Hey again everyone! I'm back!

Slowly but surely working my way through the story as best I can; university can take a lot out of you, plus work and life in general, you know?

Anyway, thank you all again for your patience and a big welcome to any new followers and readers! You all have my forever gratitude.

Enjoy!


Chapter 65

"I feel like that was almost too easy." I mumbled. I knew Raven wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but you'd think that a military man would know better than to blurt out something like that.

Raven and Armstrong talked for a little bit longer, and while I couldn't see their faces, Armstrong sounded tense; if Raven was making a move I would leap out of hiding and punch him in the face myself.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment; I heard something about the underground advance team, and I turned to Buccaneer.

"Advance team?" I wondered.

"We sent a squad to investigate the tunnel further; that's our cue to move." Buccaneer told me, standing to leave.

"Hold on," Ed transmuted a length of rope, and I could see where he was going with this idea. "It has to look convincing."

After getting the Elrics tied up, we headed back down the halls and ran into Major Miles and another man that looked vaguely familiar. He was dressed in white from head to toe, black hair tied into a low ponytail, and his hat covered his face, but something in the way he held himself made my skin crawl.

"What's going on here? What are you doing?" Miles asked.

"Prisoner exchange; we're moving the Elrics from the east cells to the west. May I ask who this is?" Buccaneer looked to the other man.

"This is Mister Zolf J. Kimblee; he's Major Miles' honored guest." Miles said, but right after he'd said Kimblee, I'd latched onto Ed's hand so tight that he made a pained squeaking noise, and everything got reduced to a strange buzzing sound in my head.

I could feel my heart racing and hoped to whatever higher power there was that Kimblee couldn't hear it; my breath was coming in small, shallow gasps; my hands were going numb—

"EJ!" A hand on my shoulder and Al's voice brought me back around. I unclenched my hand from Ed's wrist, mumbling apologies even though my hands shook.

"Nice to see you remember me, Angel." Kimblee said, and the use of my state name coming from him made me jump.

He really hadn't changed much in the last few years. Serving time in prison had made him skinnier and his hair longer, but his eyes were still the same.

Piercing, cunning, with a glint that only came from someone on the verge of insanity; Kimblee had a crazy switch that he could flip in an instant.

His were the eyes of a predator.

I could only stare up at Kimblee in response, even as he introduced himself to Ed and Al (and mistook Al for being the Fullmetal Alchemist) and try to get my breathing back under control.

I didn't officially calm down until we were back in the cell, and even then I felt like the slightest noise could set me off.

"Samuels, you okay?" Ed asked me. I could tell he was favoring his arm where I'd gripped him; thankfully my nails were short and the worst that could happen were bruises, but that didn't mean I didn't feel bad.

I bit on a loose bit of skin on my cuticle while I thought about the honest answer.

"I'm better anyway." I finally said around my nails.

I could feel Ed's eyes on me, but I couldn't make out his expression. Even so, the boys were itching to know my past with Kimblee, so I took a deep breath and told them about my past experience with him, albeit I skipped a few parts.

Those were moments I didn't want to relive.

Two big hands gripped mine in the best impression of a hug that Al could give at that time, with his hands being bound the way they were.

The creak of the cell door interrupted the moment, and who should step inside the cell but my second least favorite person: General Raven.

I sent him my best death glare, which I'd perfected in the years since I'd last seen him, but Raven kept his attention on the Elrics; I didn't miss the nervous glances he would send my way though.

He gave us the assurance that he'd let us out soon, and yet there was something he was holding back from us, and he was getting ready to gloat about it.

"I've already spoken with the general; she's going to put the Homunculus back underground, and seal up the tunnels entrance." Raven said, and he had my full attention now.

"General Armstrong is on our side now, alchemists."

Not the news I'd wanted to hear. I'd gone into a pacing frenzy not long after Raven left to take care of things, and with their hands restrained, there wasn't much either of the Elrics could do to really stop me.

"EJ, you gotta calm down; you're gonna give yourself a heart attack!" Ed held his hands out to try to placate me, but I was too far gone for that.

It made me wish I had spider powers so I could climb the walls and maybe that would help curb some anxiety.

"Well I can't, Ed; I just can't. Not just one," I held a finger in Ed's face, "But TWO of the major forces of my unresolved anxiety problems are here wandering around what's supposed to be the most well- fortified military base in the country, a Homunculus got INTO said military base, and now the most feared general in the Amestrian military is siding with Raven. So you can imagine that it's gonna take a little more for me to calm down!" I huffed, catching my breath, before I remembered something else.

"And another thing: who had the bright idea to let Kimblee out of prison? The man's a psychopath that was imprisoned for life for good reason! And yet he's roaming around free!" I kicked the opposite wall at that point, slightly oblivious to the pain; all I felt was a slight twinge like I'd bumped into a doorframe.

Even thinking about Kimblee was starting to trigger some old memories . . .


Where do those b**ds in Central get off, sending a little girl like her into a war zone?, Commander Foley thought angrily, watching the girl sitting next to him in the truck as it rumbled its way to the Amestrian base camp. The higher ups had called a few of the soldiers back to be an escort for a special guest who would be stopping in, and Foley and the rest of his team had been part of that.

Foley had felt his stomach drop at the sight of the little girl being escorted into camp. She couldn't have been more than eight years old, with a shock of red hair and big, scared eyes. Her face was so pale she could've been made of glass, and she was trembling.

"Sir, why is there-!" One of Foley's men, Stanton, protested immediately, only to be cut off by the general.

"Soldiers, this is Miss Emmaly Jasper Samuels. The Fuhrer thought she would be a good morale booster for you; so please show her every available courtesy, won't you?" The general patted Emmaly on the head and she stiffened.

"Commander Foley would you please step forward?" The general demanded. Foley did as he was told, stepping up to Emmaly and kneeling to her eye level. Up close he could see that those eyes were bright blue, filled with confusion and sadness alongside the terror already building up.

The generals hand slipped to her shoulders and she flinched, letting out a squeaking noise; Foley did his best not to punch his commanding officer.

"Go on with Commander Foley dear; he'll take care of you." The general gave Emmaly a little push forward.

Emmaly had gone with Foley and his men just fine, but just as they were about to board the truck, one of the men that had come with the general tied a strip of cloth around Emmaly's eyes.

"She doesn't need to see this." He whispered sympathetically to Foley, glancing over his shoulder at the General and narrowing his eyes in distaste.

Foley had a hunch as to why Emmaly had been brought there in the first place; go in under cover as a morale booster, when in reality she was either there as punishment on her part, or on the soldiers part. A few of the men had several small children at home about Emmaly's age, and they would have done just about anything to see them again.

Once the truck made its way into base, that's when the smell hit. Foley and his men had adjusted to it at this point in the war, but Emmaly had not. The stench of blood, sweat, death, and general human misery made her pale face turn bright green. Not a moment later, the poor girl was throwing up into a spare bucket kept in the truck for situations just like this.

Foley rubbed Emmaly's back after she'd finished throwing up to help the nausea settle down. The truck had finally dropped them off at base camp, something that had seemed to be so short turned into an agonizing trip.

Foley did the compassionate thing and let Emmaly sit in his arms as they continued the trek through camp, letting her cling to his uniform if only to keep a grip on herself after what she'd been through.

"Poor kid;" Hutcherson commented, his face matching the queasy grimace Emmaly wore. "No one should have to get used to that smell, and yet here we are."

The group had wandered into the base and joined the small circle of soldiers sitting around talking, amongst whom was Roy Mustang, the newly appointed Flame Alchemist, and Riza Hawkeye, the newest sharpshooting sniper. Every person had come from a different background: some just civilian men who were fighting to support their families, some fighting because they felt they owed Amestris their loyalty, and some fighting simply for the sake of fighting.

Zolf J. Kimblee was a perfect example of this last option.

He'd been given the name of "Crimson Alchemist", and Foley discovered the reason not long after Kimblee had been stationed at this post.

Kimblee was nothing if not an effective killer; transmutation circles tattooed onto his palms that made no sense to Foley, but could do some intense damage when he used them.

Just being in Kimblee's presence was enough to make anyone's skin crawl, but Emmaly seemed especially affected, putting Foley between herself and Kimblee.

"I don't like him," she whimpered, fingers tightening in the fabric of Foley's pants. "Feels bad."

Foley patted the little girl's head, not sure how to respond to that, but if Emmaly was getting a bad feeling, then that was enough for him.

Kimblee finally noticed the little redhead and turned his cold, black eyes on her, a creepy smirk creeping up his lips. His attention was turned back to Mustang not long after that, but Emmaly refused to leave Foley's side until it was time for her to go back to Central.


Kimblee's smirk hadn't left my mind for years after that; it was always lingering there in the back, and being around Kimblee again after all this time . . .

I let out a shaky breath and let my leg drop to the floor.

"Ow." I said simply.

"Hey," Ed put his hand on my shoulder as best he could. "We're not getting out of here anytime soon; save your strength."

I took a deep breath to center myself, knowing that Ed was right.

Some time later, the assistant doctor showed up with some surprising news: General Armstrong had straight up killed Raven.

"But why would she do that?" I demanded.

"That's all I was ordered to tell you." A.D. stood and made his way to the door to the outside world.

"Hey, wait a minute! When are you gonna let us out of this da** place?!" Ed screeched after the doctor.

"Who knows?" He waved over his shoulder. "Take it up with the general."

I growled, frustration grating my nerves. I hadn't liked Raven, but no one deserved to go out at the hands of Armstrong, regardless of their age.

Though if she'd taken him down because he was a creeper I could understand that part.

"Getting angry won't do any good; you both know that." Al chided. Ed pressed his head against the bars and I flopped over against Al's leg.

"I can't take sitting here doing nothing; I need to do something!" Ed hissed. The cell door creaked open once again, and the last person I wanted to see in that moment stepped in.

Of the many negative things I had to say about Kimblee at any given time, one thing that stood out was acting. He appeared to be the suave, "I have done nothing wrong in my life, ever" kind of person one second, and the next he was laughing over your exploded corpse.

You'll forgive us if neither Ed nor I had on our friendly faces when Kimblee gave his greetings.

"Oh, I see how it is, Angel. You're still not a fan of mine." He gave me a condescending smile.

"Worked that out for yourself, did you?" I asked, my fists clenching. Al put a hand on my back with a silent warning: don't let him get to you; it's what he wants.

"You should be grateful; I brought a visitor here to see you." Kimblee sounded way too happy, but at the very least he got me to stop glaring at him and sit up in confusion instead.

Footsteps from behind Kimblee, and I felt my heart stop at who walked through the door next.

Ed and Al shared my shock as the three of us shrieked at the idea that Winry would be here. She at least seemed happy to see us, albeit confused as to why we were locked in a cell.

"It's a really long and messy story, and better saved for another time." I pushed my way through to the bars and grabbed Winry's proffered hand. "Seriously though: why are you up here?"

"Well, Ed has to adjust his automail for the cold. Someone from the military contacted me and—"

"The military?" Ed cut her off as the feeling left my fingertips. Looking over to Kimblee in the most subtle way that I could, his cold eyes met mine briefly as he put a hand on Winry's shoulder.

It was in that moment that I knew exactly what was happening.

Ed had told me about his conversation with the Fuhrer right after our fight with Scar in the train depot; if Ed wasn't going to cooperate, Winry would be the first target.

And what better way to keep Ed on a leash than by dragging her all the way up north under the guise of needing to replace his automail?

For a second I could only think that the set up was too perfect; had we walked right into a trap by coming up here? And if we had, we were gonna need a miracle to get ourselves out of this one.


Cue the dramatic music!

Thanks again for reading, and I'll see you in the next chapter!