Best Kept Secret
Author: MoonStarDutchess
Chapter 148: Even Into Hell
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of FMA or any of its characters, world, etc. I do own my original characters if/when they make an appearance. I gain no profit from this fanfiction other than much needed writing practice.
Warning: This chapter can be triggering in some aspects regarding abuse.
Riza stood at attention when Bradley walked into the room. Her body was already stiffened, but tensed further when his eyes focused into hers, as if trying to read her. She hoped Storch thought to hide somewhere in the long supply closet so Bradley wouldn't see him through the small window in the door. If he looked inside, he'd have less of a chance to see him if he were hidden amongst the boxes of paper and office equipment. If Storch hadn't hid, at least he had the excuse that he was borrowing supplies.
She began studying Bradley's face while trying not to make it obvious that she was doing so. He showed no signs of knowing about Storch. From the way he looked, she wondered if his mind was working at top capacity. As of late, every time he came in, he looked increasingly exhausted. Perhaps someone less observant wouldn't have noticed, but she made it a habit of studying her enemies in detail for weaknesses. When she was first assigned to Roy's team, she'd began reading books on body language and gestures so she could better understand people without a word spoken to her.
Bradley's state wouldn't have bewildered her if he were human since these past few weeks had been hectic on everyone. But he wasn't human. Homunculi weren't likely to experience exhaustion, but Bradley showed all the signs of it. Perhaps it was because he was once human.
Or it could've been an act on his part since he had a guise to maintain.
"At ease, Lieutenant Mustang," he said. "I wasn't expecting you to be here in the office quite yet."
Her face remained formed into a neutral expression despite the odd statement. He knew her hours, and she wasn't working at a time she wasn't supposed to be. "I had several files that needed organized, sir."
He nodded. "Regardless, I'm pleased you're here. We have urgent matters to attend to." He paced the length of her desk once, his gait ever so slightly limped, before stopping in front of her. His brows were slightly furrowed. "I wanted to wait a bit longer, but now is as good a time as any."
"Yes, sir?" It was hard to relax when the tenseness in her shoulders would not decompress. She resisted the urge to roll them. Her stomach grew queasy, and as her chest tightened, it grew harder to breathe. She forced her body to be "at ease" as much as she could. While some of her sensations were due to him, others were due to her own instincts screaming at her that something was going to happen.
"As you know, the ceremony for the signing of the treaty will be this Friday," he said as if he were regaling her with the weather report rather than about an event that will affect two nations and millions of people. "You have your duties completed?"
"I do, sir," she said, proud that her voice sounded so damn professional when it didn't feel like it would even work. She wanted to reach up and rub her throat.
"Lieutenant Orwell will be taking your place at the event. He'll be here this afternoon for you to go over the details with him."
"Did I do something wrong, sir?" She needed to appear displeased at not being able to attend even though she knew something worse was coming her way. She'd had this feeling dozens of times before and had never been wrong.
"Not at all," he said. "You've been exceptional. I have a more important duty for you. He moved closer to a chair in front of her desk but didn't sit. She locked her knees so she didn't shake. "We've discovered that Claudio plans to go back on his deal even once he signs the treaty."
She pretended to be surprised at that even though she knew it was bullshit. "He seemed so sincere," she said. "With everyone so happy, he has the people fooled well. Myself included."
"Yes, I too admit I was drawn in at the potential of a peace, but we have irrefutable evidence that says otherwise."
More bullshit. That meant they either doctored evidence or had none at all. It wasn't as if they needed proof. Bradley had the power to seal the records from everyone except the higher-ups, and most of those were on his side.
"I'm sorry to hear that, sir."
"In return for his betrayal, we've decided to take action from the shadows so we don't disturb the tentative truce we already have between our countries."
She almost cringed at what she knew to be an intentional use of the word shadows. She knew he was lying and that disturbing that peace was exactly what he wanted to do.
A grin had splashed across his lips for a split second after he said it.
"But there will still be a signing, sir?" she asked.
"Yes, there will be."
With the way Bradley was acting, by going through with the signing of a useless treaty, they didn't know Claudio was a fake. She was told she'd have a replacement at the event, so she knew a huge bombshell was going drop on her. In the back of her mind, she could dictate his words verbatim as he spoke them.
He grinned. It wasn't one that he usually used. The one that made him appear friendly. This one conveyed demented amusement. "He will conveniently be executed by a lone sniper."
A sick amusement equal to his was bubbling in her, threatening to come out in the form of bitter laughter upon hearing his word choice. Conveniently. She'd never been told her murdering was convenient before. Efficient and ruthless, sure, but never convenient. How many more people would have to die by her hands before her life ended?
At least with Roy and the other soldiers, people had a chance to fight back. Snipers hid. They skulked in darkness like cowards. People never knew what was coming. She'd heard snipers argue that at least their kills didn't feel an extreme fear before death. At least their deaths were quick. She wasn't sure which was better. Not having a chance to defend, not knowing you needed to, and dying, or knowing you were going to die by facing your executioner head on.
Then again, she was sure those people in Ishbal knew the chances of death by sniper were great. She'd seen them sneak around, hoping they could escape the rifle sights.
At first she'd let them go only to see them taken out by someone else.
She'd let her fellow snipers believe whatever made them feel better, but their arguments didn't mollify her guilt an iota.
"I understand, sir," she managed to say.
He held a surprised expression for a moment but it was long enough for her to spot. "You aren't going to protest?' His voice went thunderously deeper. His expression grew darker, eyebrows furrowing and eyes narrowing.
The minacious parts of him had risen to the surface, suppressing the civil persona he'd perfected through the years. "Are you finally seeing sense?"
"Not sure what you mean, sir?" she said.
"Are you finally seeing that another body in your long list doesn't make much of a difference?"
It would've hurt less if he'd slit her throat with his saber. She was an excellent officer. She followed orders even when they did not benefit her mental or physical well-being or society in general. She took orders from beasts like him, but she refused to be a submissive woman and have nothing to show for it. She was damned sick of having no information and getting no benefits from her obedience. If she were going to die, she was going to go out for a reason. Roy would've been furious at her if he knew what she was about to do.
"If I kill him, I'll either be executed or imprisoned for it. You won't have any leverage against Mustang then."
"If?" He grinned and then laughed. "If?" She refused to be daunted by his tone. "You speak like I'm giving you a choice. There are no ifs, Lieutenant Mustang. If you refuse, I'll kill you. If I imprison you, I'll threaten to kill you. That will keep Colonel Mustang in line."
With his words, the air in the room felt imbibed by fire. But she played with fire on a normal basis, was married to the wielder of it, had a symbol of it prodded and rubbed into her back with ill intentions, madness, and arrogance.
"That won't be enough leverage," she said, not letting him see or hear her anger, her fear, or any of the other myriad of emotions rushing through her. Bradley appeared entertained by her. "If I'm not free," she began, her voice conveying utmost professionalism, "he could and probably would refuse to do what you want him to. Though, I think you're overestimating how much he cares for me. I'm little more than collateral damage."
To her surprise, he inclined his head ever so slightly and moved around her desk, stopping at the side. "I'm not a fool, lieutenant." He placed both his hands on the desk and smirked. A smirk so much different from the one she loved to get from her husband.
She swallowed the saliva and acids rising into her throat. The feelings she'd had the moment he walked into the room grew worse and it wasn't because of his closeness.
She was glad her hands were positioned behind her back so she could wipe the sweat off using the back of her uniform jacket and hide the way they clenched into fists.
She was the reason Roy's hands were tied in so many ways. She was holding him back and she knew that. Damn it, she knew it and only had a handful of things she could do to change it. And even then, she was unsure if they would work.
"As for your imprisonment, lieutenant, I'm the fuehrer, I can change circumstances." He walked behind her, moving her chair as he did so.
His moves were slow and deliberate, much like the movements Pride had made. He wanted to elicit intimidation through every gesture, every breath, and every damn syllable that left his lips.
"You're professional enough not to be caught."
She closed her eyes and moved her hands to her sides, forcing them to stay open and flat against her. "And even if you were, I'd make sure to praise you for killing a fake." She'd been wrong. They did know. The stuff he'd said earlier about Claudio going back on his word was only spoken to test her. She was glad she played stupid.
"And the real one? Where is he?' she asked.
"He's dead," he said. She knew that to be a lie forged either intentionally or from a lack of information. They hadn't found the real prince yet, that was evident from the information Storch had given her.
"Once I kill the fake, it will get back to Aerugo and create a war. They'll think their real prince was murdered."
"Indeed." She was surprised that he replied in the affirmative.
She rallied the audaciousness left within her and said, "You won't kill me if I refuse, and you won't kill Mustang. What other leverage do you have on me? My friends? You'll threaten them more than you already have?"
"I hate your fucking attitude!" He grabbed her at the back of her head, gripping her hair, and slammed her onto the desk, every bone in her body protesting the action. Her tattoo burned, it screeched as if begging her to make the close contact stop. She bit the inside of her mouth and tasted blood as soon as the side of her face collided with the cold wood. "You aren't as intelligent as you think you are. If I do choose to kill you, then we will find a way to use Mustang and his life will be a living hell until we do. You will not fight me on this, lieutenant. "Do you understand?"
He leaned over her. It took every ounce of training she had to keep her breathing steady as fear rushed through her.
She heard his sword slide from his sheath. Cold metal pressed against the back of her neck.
"I asked," he growled, "if you understood, lieutenant?"
As the metal bit into her skin, she gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. She said she'd go through hell for Roy and his cause. She meant it.
She'd already been through it many times before. Many times in Ishbal. Lab 5. Finding out about her parents.
And it was guaranteed that in the next few days, she would have to venture through it again.
"Yes, sir," she said. "I understand."
AN: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for reading and please leave a comment if you have the time.
Hope everyone is doing well! Luvs ya lots.
Moon
