Author's Note:

I finally got around to watching The Conqueror of Shamballa. I think it was a pretty okay movie. Some plot points confused me and didn't make sense, but it definitely could have been worse.

In this chapter there is some room for interpretation so I want to make it clear that there will be no romantic subplots in this story. There will be some good friendships and implied glances, but nothing really past that. This fanfic just has too many subplots. It's causing a bit of a problem in the writing process.

For reference bruised ribs take 3-4 weeks to heal and broken ribs take six weeks to heal. So the pain would be pretty intense, even more if you are engaging in heavy construction work.

I am really grateful for all the reviews and feedback I have gotten so far. Thank you so much for the continued support.

I own nothing.

Mustang pulled back the curtain and gazed onto the street below, creasing his brow as he did so. He observed a rather small figure, notably wearing black gloves and a hat covering golden hair, cross the street and round the corner onto a converging road. His eyes remained fixated on that distant intersection, hand clenching the fabric.

Behind him, he could feel his companion's eyes trained on his back, likely noticing the rigidness of his shoulders. Mustang hid his emotions well, but Riza Hawkeye knew him better.

"You should close the curtain," Hawkeye said, after a moment. "Someone might see you."

Mustang released his grip on the curtain, letting it fall back into place. He turned to face his subordinate. They had decided to meet in Hawkeye's room this time. This meeting was just between the two of them, so space wasn't an issue. Plus, her window had a view of the street.

"I doubt the townspeople are that observant," Mustang said, taking a seat on the bed beside her.

"It's not them I'm worried about," Hawkeye said. She turned to grab her bag. "We should get started. The postal truck to Heinsworth leaves at six o'clock."

Covert missions had strict protocol regulating contact between the intelligence team and the military. Prior to the mission, secure methods of communication and security codes were established. To ensure their secrecy, only the ranking officer on the intelligence team had knowledge of them. Any sharing of those codes was met with an immediate court martial.

It had taken Colonel Mustang approximately 15 seconds to come to the conclusion that following those orders would be a terrible idea. According to military reports, Ukon was hostile territory. They had absolutely no way to predict what dangers they might encounter on the mission. Should Mustang be killed, then the rest of the team would be stranded.

Hawkeye handed the Colonel a sheet of paper and a pen. Mustang received them, twirling the pen in his hand.

On the top of the paper, he wrote: "To My Dearest Jacqueline,"

"Address the letter to either 'Jacqueline' or 'Kate,'" Mustang explained. "So we can be sure it reaches Havoc or Feury."

"And the security code?" Hawkeye asked.

Mustang jotted down a few more sentences.

"The code is in the third sentence. See what I wrote: 'Here the tulips are blooming.' The number of letters are four - three - six - three - eight. It's an even - odd - even pattern. It can also be an odd - even - odd pattern, as long as it alternates. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"For the distress code, put the security code in the fifth sentence," Mustang said. "The secondary security code is just to restate the opening greeting. I'll probably end with 'Missing You, Dear' or something."

Hawkeye nodded. "And where will the letter be addressed?"

"492 South Main Street, North City. All Ukon's mail is being processed and screened in Heinsworth. It honestly doesn't matter where we address the letters. As long as they are addressed to 'Jacqueline' or 'Kate.'"

"We should probably put the inn as the return address. So that they have some means to contact us," Hawkeye said.

Mustang nodded and wrote the address on the envelope.

Once more, he felt an unrelenting worry pry at his mind. Mustang wanted nothing more than to discuss the issue with her. But at the same time, fear held him back, afraid that they had both come to the same conclusion.

So instead, he asked her about the mission.

"How are your evaluations of the town?" Mustang asked.

Hawkeye's gaze was fixated on the door.

"I have yet to find anything particularly noteworthy," she said. "There are several abandoned buildings in the town, but none of them show signs of suspicious activity. There might be some hidden storages on private property. But without any leads, it is pointless to search for them."

"And the defensive and offensive capabilities of the town?" Mustang said.

"Ukon is fairly isolated. Most of the town is surrounded by untouched forest. The nearest city is Heinsworth and the only transportation between the two towns are the train tracks. The tracks themselves run along an open field, making them susceptible to ambush. There are possibly backroads and trails going through the forest, but the military has no records of them. As for the town itself, I was unable to access the building records. It would be relevantly easy to construct a hidden basement or other secret room. In short, Ukon strength mainly lies in it's inaccessibility. Should the military try to attack Ukon, transportation to the town itself would be difficult. While gaining control of the town should be easy."

She fell silent, tapping her shoe against the floorboards.

Anyone else would have assumed that she was done speaking. However, Colonel Mustang understood his Lieutenant well. Although she seldom expressed her true emotions, he knew that the subtle creasing of her brow was a sign of frustration.

"Is there anything else noteworthy?" Mustang said, silently asking her to speak her mind.

"Intelligence missions are supposed to be slow," Hawkeye admitted. "But something feels off."

"You noticed too."

Hawkeye nodded.

Mustang sighed. "The military was convinced that Ukon would be crawling with White Wolves. All evidence pointed towards it: the demolished station and the destroyed tracks. But so far our major breakthrough has been a street gang." He shook his head. "It's obvious that the White Wolves are planning something, but there just don't seem to be any clear leads."

"We shouldn't be so quick to dismiss the vandals. They might know more than they let on." She paused for a moment, contemplating the implications of her next words. "Hopefully Edward will be able to figure it out soon."

The pen stopped abruptly mid sentence, ink blotting onto the page.

Hawkeye looked up at her superior officer, taking one look at the strained expression on his face before looking away once more.

"There is no use blaming yourself for what happened," she said. "That won't help Edward or yourself."

Mustang just shook his head, his teeth clenching hard together.

"Has Edward mentioned the incident?" Hawkeye inquired.

Mustang let out a breath.

"No," he said. He leaned backwards on the bed, laying down on the sheets. When Hawkeye didn't protest, he raised his hands to rub his eyes. "He keeps putting on a brave face, acting like everything is fine. But he is going to reach his limit soon." He took a breath. "He's so proud. I don't know what to expect when he finally crumbles."

"It doesn't matter what state he is in. What matters is that we are there to pick him up when it happens," Hawkeye said.

"I don't think he'll accept my help," he said.

"Don't be so sure, Colonel," she said. "He looks up to you more than you know."

"That's because he's so short," Mustang retorted.

Hawkeye shook her head.

"But it certainly isn't helping that you are relentlessly teasing him," she said.

Mustang stared up at the ceiling.

"I know," he said. "But in a weird way it… it helps to give him a reason to hate me. Someone to direct his feelings at. Plus, now almost all of the construction workers know what he looks like. Hopefully they'll look out for him when I cannot."

"But that isn't all that's on your mind, is it?"

Mustang sighed. Hawkeye knew him way too well.

"Edward's run in with the White Wolves," he said.. "It's the biggest setback he's had since..."

He trailed off, not finishing the rest of his sentence.

"Since he and his brother committed human transmutation," Hawkeye finished.

Mustang nodded. "Joining the military gave him hope. It was something to do, a goal to look forward to. But now, he's had a major setback and all he can do is wait until his injuries heal." He paused. "I'm afraid that he'll do something risky. And that he'll get hurt again in the process."

"The best we can do is keep an eye on him. Try to keep him from going down the wrong path," Hawkeye said.

They fell silent for a few long moments. Mustang kept staring up at the bare ceiling. This backwater inn hadn't even attempted to paint it.

"What is your impression of Lieutenant Reed?" Mustang asked suddenly.

Hawkeye tugged at the cuff of her sleeve.

"He seems like a model officer, hardworking, and devoted," she paused. "Yet I noticed that he likes to spend most of his time alone. Oftentimes, he has to push himself to socialize."

Mustang nodded. "I actually spoke with him the other night. Something about him struck me. Like he had a lot of things weighing him down," he paused. "But he is hiding something. What he did during the Parktown Incident. It is not something that happens by accident."

"Do you have any theories?"

"Nothing I can confirm."

He rubbed his eyes, fatigue spreading across his face.

"I'm sorry I brought you into this," he said, looking up at her

"There is nothing to apologize for," Hawkeye said, holding his gaze. "Besides, someone needs to watch your back."

Mustang smiled and closed his eyes.

Hawkeye watched him for a moment, before turning back to look at the door. She'll give him one minute. One minute before she shook him awake and demanded that he finish writing the letter. One minute until they dived back into the mission at hand.

But until then, for just one minute, she will let him escape all the fears and responsibilities that weighed him down.

Ed waited until he was safely hidden within the shadows before slumping against the alley wall. He took a few ragged breaths, groaning at how the movement further agitated his ribs. He gritted his teeth and formed his hands into fists, trying to ignore the pain. This was starting to get really tiresome.

He hadn't expected construction work to be this strenuous. Their days consisted of hours of lifting, hauling, and assembling under the scorching sun. The heat combined with his automail was enough to leave him worn out by the end of the day, but his injuries were making things almost unbearable.

It started yesterday when Ed had been struggling to lift a heavy plank. He was able to get it halfway off the ground before white hot pain jumped up from his arm and across his chest. He let out a startled yelp, the plank dropping to the concrete floor. Ed had expected Mustang, who was standing right next to him, to make some kind of snide remark. But the Colonel had simply looked at him for a moment, before lifting the plank himself and suggesting that Ed grab the toolbox. After that Mustang handled most of the heavy lifting.

In fact, since the mission started, Mustang hadn't even mentioned Ed's run in with the White Wolves. In some ways Ed was grateful that the Colonel hadn't brought it up, because he really did not want to talk about it. But at the same time, he was infuriated that Mustang was going out of his way to care for him.

Ed gripped his collar, remembering the incident this morning.

Mustang always woke up early. Something Ed could never understand. The Colonel took his time to get ready, hogging the bathroom for a good half an hour. Ed actually did not mind this at all. The way he saw it, the longer Mustang stayed in the bathroom, the longer he got to sleep in. However this morning, much to his surprise, after Mustang was done with the bathroom, Ed had entered it to find a glass of water and two pain relief pills sitting on the counter. For a brief second, Ed considered flushing them down the toilet in an act of defiance, but the ache in his ribs convinced him otherwise.

Ed would never admit it, but he had been able to pass through most of the day without that much pain. However, that was hours ago and the pills were starting to wear off. No matter what, Ed knew that he was not about to ask for more.

Ed took another deep breath and rolled his shoulder, pulling at his collar as he did so. Enough feeling sorry for himself.

He had a job to do.

He began to walk down the alley, toward the eastern part of town. The vandals met in the backroom of an abandoned clinic. As usual, there was a guard posted near the entrance. The "guard" was one of the oldest, biggest, and strongest kids in the gang. Ed didn't like him at all, which was fine, because he despised Ed even more.

As usual, the guard scowled as he saw Ed approach from down the alley.

Ed adjusted the papers beneath his jacket. He tried to keep from grimacing and focused his eyes on the ground. Should he be lucky, he would be able to slip in without a problem. However, luck wasn't something he usually had.

"What's inside your jacket?" the guard asked, stepping in front of the door.

"Just papers for the meeting," Ed said.

"Show me," he said, crossing his arms.

Ed held back a glare and begrudgingly opened his jacket.

"See, it's just paper," Ed said.

The guard narrowed his eyes. As much as he wanted to harass and belittle him, he also didn't want to make Ed late for the meeting. Eventually, he stepped to the side, cracking his knuckles as he did so.

Ed tried not to roll his eyes as he slipped through the doorway.

The backroom had an eerie feel to it. The windows were boarded shut and the lights had long stopped working. Candles were placed around the room, but failed to properly illuminate the space. Dark shadows lingered in the corners. The walls were lined with empty and broken shelves. An old exam table, with a questionable crimson stain, took up most of the space.

The leaders of the vandals looked up as Ed approached.

His name was Paul. Ed had figured that out at the second meeting. Paul was overly arrogant, but he was well respected. A good half of the kids went along with the vandalism solely because Paul led it.

"Here are the papers," Ed said, passing them to Paul. Paul took them without even muttering a word of gratitude and began to flip through the pages.

"Is this all you could get?" he asked.

Ed gritted his teeth. Those papers detailed the train station's reconstruction. It had taken days to get all that information.

"Yes," Ed said.

"Are you sure?" the boy asked.

"Of course I am," Ed said.

Paul sighed. "Well, we're just going to have to work with what we have." He began to put the papers on the table. Then as if remembering something, he looked up and scanned the crowd.

Ed looked around the room as well, trying to figure out who was missing.

Suddenly, they heard rapid footsteps echo from outside. The group grew tense as the footsteps approached. Paul began to hastily gather the papers. They all watched as a figure approached in the doorway.

But everyone relaxed when they saw who had arrived.

It was just the brown haired girl.

"Where were you?" Paul asked.

The girl leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. "Sorry, my dad wouldn't let me leave the house. I had to sneak out."

"Sneak out?" Paul asked. "You haven't had to sneak out since..."

The boy fell silent, a look of understanding crossing his face. The girl returned his gaze and nodded. Paul took a breath.

"We'll discuss it later," he said, once again taking out the papers. "These are the plans for the station's construction."

The girl walked over to him and began to look them over.

"This is a lot of information," she said, looking at Ed. "Good job."

Paul ignored them.

"It looks like they plan to get the roof and exterior walls completed within a few days. After that they would work on the interior for about a week, before moving on to the tracks. We should probably strike again before they finish the interior. Any suggestions on what we should do this time?"

Ed tuned them out. It wasn't anything interesting. (In the end, after a good half an hour, the kids would decide to steal the tools next.)

As the kids were scheming, Ed focused his attention on the brown haired girl. She was usually more talkative, giving insight to every comment, but today she was quiet.

So quiet, in fact, when she finally spoke, almost no one heard her.

"Haven't you guys forgotten something?" she asked softly.

"What is it?" Paul asked.

"Remember the last time, when we tried to egg the station. Mark was there to stop us," she said.

Paul furrowed his brow. "Yeah, but he ended up backing down. He will do it again," he said.

"You are forgetting that afterwards, he went straight to the town council and made a very convincing argument on why they should stop the vandalism. The council said that they would do something, but we all know that they won't. So what happens when Mark finds out? What's to stop him and all of the construction workers from coming after us?"

"But the construction workers don't know that we are responsible for the vandalism," Paul said.

"Mark knows," she said. "He could tell them."

"The second he does that he will find out," Paul said, gesturing towards Ed.

"So we're just going to deal with it as it goes?" she said.

"That's what we always do," Paul said.

"That is not a plan."

Paul scowled. "Well it isn't as if we can anticipate what everyone is going to do-"

"But that doesn't mean that we can't prepare," she said.

"There is nothing we can prepare for," Paul said.

She pursed her lips.

"Paul, I don't think you are hearing me," she said.

"I am hearing you just fine. And I am telling you that you do not need to worry. So drop it," he said.

"But this is a serious problem," she said.

Paul opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off.

"She has a point you know," Ed said.

Paul's eyes snapped to Ed.

"Stay out of this," he said.

"Well it's sort of my business, me being a part of the construction crew and all," Ed said. "Look, all I am saying is that it would be wise to take precautions."

"Is that a threat?" Paul asked.

"No it's called intelligence, maybe you've heard of it," Ed spat. "Listen, some of the construction workers are getting really pissed off by the setbacks. A lot of them are leaving. However, more are leaving then are willing to come in. So sooner or later they will turn to the city council to stop the vandalism. If that doesn't happen, then what is to stop them from taking matters into their own hands."

Ed slipped his hands into his jacket and formed them into fists, just as a precaution. He wasn't really sure why he was standing up for the brown haired girl. Logically speaking, he should just keep his head down. However, these kids were about to get stuck in the middle of a war they were not ready to fight. Even if the military and the White Wolves locked heads, Ed would do his best to keep the vandals and the construction workers out of the fray. It was the least he could do.

Paul, however, was oblivious to Ed's true motivation.

"What is your point?" Paul said, gritting his teeth.

"My point is the same as your friend's: we need to be careful. Watch the construction workers, see if there are any signs of them forming vigilante groups, and don't start any fights with them," Ed said.

"He has a point," someone whispered.

Once more, Paul looked to the brown haired girl.

They exchanged a glance.

After a moment of hesitation, Paul nodded.

"Alright, we'll discuss it later," he said. "This meeting is dismissed."

The kids around them moved to exit through the doorway, but both Paul and the brown haired girl stayed where they were. Ed began to wonder what had happened between the two. They seemed close, not the type to be put off by a little disagreement.

Ed lingered back among the kids, making sure he was one of the last one's to exit through the doorway. As soon as he was outside, Ed took a loop around the building. Once certain that the alley was clear. Ed crouched beneath one of the boarded up windows. From this spot he could easily eavesdrop on their conversation.

"You don't know that for sure," Paul said. His voice was strained and it sounded like he was pacing.

"It may be unavoidable," the girl said.

"It's way too risky," Paul said. "You're not doing it."

The girl made a disgruntled noise.

"Why can't we just wait for them to come to us?" Paul asked. "You don't need to seek them out."

"You know the type of people they are. It would only get worse the longer we wait. It is best to ask now while they don't have a clear plan, then it won't be so bad," she said.

Ed furrowed his brow. What were they talking about? Could it be the White Wolves?

"No," Paul said. "I won't allow you."

The girl scoffed. "You don't control me."

"Do you hear yourself? This isn't some playground argument." His voice dropped so low that Ed almost didn't hear it. "This is about visiting the White Wolves' headquarters. You could be shot on sight just for showing up."

"I know," the girl said. "But the longer we wait the worse it gets, the more drastic the vandalization. We could get hurt. People could come after us. The Wolves have changed. I don't think they will protect us."

The boy sighed.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," he said.

"Neither do I."

"Just promise me that you won't go alone," Paul said.

"I promise," the girl said.

Underneath the window Ed contemplated what he had just heard. So they were considering visiting the White Wolves' headquarters. That meant that the girl knew where it was located. It was obvious that showing up at a resistance group's headquarters was unwise, but it sounded like it was something more.

The White Wolves have changed.

What did that mean?

Ed didn't give himself the time to ponder. He could figure it out later. Right now he had to leave. The longer he stayed here the more likely he would be caught. Ed stood and pulled at his collar. His ribs had begun to hurt again. Picking up his pace, he turned toward the center of town, trying to put distance between himself and the abandoned clinic.

He was halfway down the street when he heard someone call out to him.

"Hey!"

Ed froze, fear washing over him in a nauseous wave. Hesitantly, he took a glance over his shoulder.

The brown haired girl was walking towards him. Ed searched her face, trying to gauge her emotions.

"Hello," he said, trying his best to sound casual.

"I just want to thank you for standing up for me," the girl said with a smile.

Ed relaxed a bit. Maybe she hadn't seen him.

"There's no need to," he said, returning the smile.

The girl shook her head.

"I also want to apologise for the way Paul was acting. Please don't hold it against him. Today has just been very stressful," she said.

"Don't worry about it," Ed said. "It's fine."

The girl looked down at her feet.

"Where are you headed?" she asked.

Ed paused for a moment. Technically speaking, he was supposed to report back before going to the inn for dinner.

"I don't mean to pry or anything," the girl said quickly. "But I was just going to wander around the town for a bit. I'm not very eager to go home. Would you like to join me?"

A month ago, Ed would have accepted solely because of the girl's ties to the White Wolves. However the more Ed thought about it, the more appealing the idea of a pleasant walk became.

Since becoming a State Alchemist, his life was full of endless missions, reports, and dead ends. Endless days of worrying about his brother, their secret, and their bodies. Long nights full of him making promises he wasn't sure he could keep. He had almost forgotten how simple his life had once been.

Back in Resembool, a pleasant walk would have been the highlight of his day. Perhaps he missed that more than he realized.

"Where do you want to go?" Ed asked. At the latest, he had to report back by dinner. He could have some fun until then.

"Well Ukon isn't that big of a town, but there are some cool sights here and there," she said. "Have you seen the mansion yet?"

"Mansion?"

"It's an old abandoned building in the far eastern part of town. Bit of history to it," she said. "Come on I'll show you. You might like the architecture,."

Ed pushed all thoughts of the mission out of his mind. Declining that for once, even if it was only for an hour, he would revert back to that simple country boy he had once been.

The mansion was located on a slight hill near the eastern edge of the forest. It sat in the middle of a dried out lawn and was surrounded by a large iron fence. Years ago, it was once a magnificent building. However, any past beauty had faded with age. The paint was peeling and portions of the brick wall were crumbling. The once spectacular stained glass windows were now shattered.

The girl led Ed past the fence and through the backdoor of the mansion.

"Before this country was founded, Ukon was a small trading town. People used it as a stop before heading to Xing. After this country was founded this rich noble was sent to Ukon to set up an outpost. He built most of the town, including this mansion. Though it was abandoned after they put it in the town hall. Every now and then some council member would put forth a proposal to renovate this place, but there is really no point to it," she said.

They were inside the mansion now, walking through the old rooms. Ed could tell that it had once been lavishly furnished, but all that was left was threadbare carpet and peeling paint. There was a huge mural over the grand staircase that Ed was sure would have been beautiful, if moss wasn't growing over half of it.

"The downstairs isn't that much," she said. "But the attic is really cool."

Ed followed her up the marble staircase until they reached the top floor.

"Paul and I found the attic by mistake one day while we were playing hide and seek," the girl said. They had entered an old bedroom and walked over to the closet. "Watch." The girl pushed at the closet's back wall. The wall slid back an inch or two before triggering a mechanism and sliding to the side, revealing a hidden staircase.

Ed's eyes went wide.

"Come on, it's even better upstairs," she said.

Unlike the previous floors, the attic was relatively untouched. It was a small room, perhaps half the size of Mustang's office. The ceiling, so low that Ed could brush it with his fingertips, was covered with elaborate engravings. Two small windows, on opposite sides of the room, allowed sunlight to fill the space. The room was full of chests, shelves, and an arrangement of elaborate objects.

Ed saw paintings, sculptures, vases, teapots, and clocks. To his immediate left there was a chest engraved with flowers and birds. Curious, Ed opened the chest to find a vast assortment of quills, ink, and fancy parchment. He opened another to find it full of embroidered linens. A shelf of vintage books caught his eye and he began to flip through them.

"Does the town council know about this?" he asked.

"The attic? No, I think we are one of the only ones to find it," she said. "Do you like it?"

"It's amazing," Ed said, looking around. "Do you like to explore?"

"Yup, Paul and I used to do it all the time," she said.

"Used to?" Ed asked.

"It's complicated," the girl said. "He's my best friend. My dad was often gone on business, so I spent most of my time playing outside with the other kids. Paul always made a point to look after me," she sighed. "But this vandalism stuff is going to his head."

"Then why not just stop," Ed said.

"It's not that simple," she said, crossing the small room and picking up a telescope. "The Wolves ordered us to vandalise the station. They are a resistance group. We can't really say no."

"But why do they want you to do that in the first place?" Ed asked.

"Who knows," the girl said. "They haven't been so reasonable recently."

Ed tilted his head. What did she mean by that?

The girl took the telescope and looked out the window.

Ed guessed that she didn't want to talk about it. He could ask her about it tomorrow. He had already found out a lot today.

They struck up a casual conversation after that. The girl told Ed of her various explorations around the town. Surprisingly, Ed found himself drawn to his childhood in Resembool. Ed recounted stories of his childhood, the time it rained so hard half the fields flooded, the time they went searching for their friend's lost pig, and the time they learned to swim. He was careful to never mention Resembool by name. Or anyone by name for that matter.

While they talked the girl played with the telescope, trying to glimpse the desert in the distance. Ed flipped through the old books, looking for anything that could be useful for their investigation. Unfortunately, everything here was at least a century old.

Ed wasn't exactly sure how much time had passed. He didn't have his pocket watch. Mustang had made him leave it at the inn.

"You should be getting back," the girl said, suddenly, looking out the window.

"What time is it?" Ed asked, looking up from his book. He had found a quite interesting one detailing the history of Ukon. The girl looked out the window and at the sun.

"Sunset is in an hour," she said. Ed looked down, he hadn't realized so much time had passed. "You should get going. I don't want your Master to worry."

Ed almost choked at the word Master.

"I'll head back," Ed said. He stood and dusted off his clothes. "But I don't think he likes me that much."

"That doesn't mean that he doesn't care. You're his apprentice," she said.

"That means nothing," Ed said, bitterly.

"Really? Can you honestly say that he has never looked out for you? That he never did you favours just because?"

Ed was silent.

"Adults look after us in their own way. Sometimes it's annoying, but in one way or another they still care," she said.

She stood and brushed off her clothes.

"You can borrow that if you want," the girl said, pointing to the book Ed had been looking through. "It's not like anyone is going to miss it."

"Oh," Ed said. "Thank you."

"No problem," the girl said. "Feel free to come here anytime you want. Just make sure to put the wooden panel back in place."

"Will do," Ed said, tucking the book under his arm.

They descended the stairs and exited the mansion.

Once outside, they stood in front of the large iron gate.

"Well, I'll see you later," the brown haired girl said.

"Sure thing," Ed said.

The girl smiled and began to walk away.

As Ed watched the girl walk down the street. He suddenly remembered something.

"Wait," Ed called. "What's your name?"

The girl turned back and smiled.

"Call me Meg."

A while later, Ed was walking toward the center of town.

He rolled his shoulder, his ribs aching painfully in his chest. Even breathing was starting to hurt.

Nevertheless nonchalant, he passed by a pastry shop and stopped to gaze at the window display.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Reed sitting on one of the outside chairs. He was reading a book, crumbs lying on a napkin before him.

Mustang had insisted that Ed contact someone after every meeting with the vandals. Mustang himself was the most logical option, but it would look suspicious if Ed went running to him after every meeting. Plus the group already knew that they didn't get along. Hawkeye would have done it, but she was busy doing sweeps of the town.

Ed felt uncomfortable meeting in such public places, but Reed had said that it looked more normal than meeting in some alley. Reed had also insisted on meeting at a different place everyday. Ed had a feeling that Reed was better at intelligence work than he let on.

Ed held no complaints about the Lieutenant. He took Ed seriously, treated him like a fellow officer, and didn't press personal issues. Whenever Ed and Mustang would have an argument, he didn't do much more than raise an eyebrow.

Ed respected that.

"How did it go?" Reed asked, barely moving his lips.

"The meeting was simple. The kids plan to vandalize the site in about a week. But something else happened," Ed said. They needed to be brief. "Paul and the brown haired girl, Meg. They had a conversation after the meeting. From the sounds of it, Meg wanted to visit the White Wolves headquarters."

If Ed hadn't been staring at the window display, he would have noticed Reed stiffen at his words. He would have noticed him averting his gaze to scan the crowd. But even if he had been looking straight at Reed, he would have likely assumed that the Lieutenant was uneasy about the mission. He would never have guessed the true anxiety prying at Reed's mind.

Ed continued. "Paul was opposed to it and made her promise not to go there alone. It sounded like he wanted to wait for the White Wolves to come to them. However for some reason Meg said that that would be worse. She mentioned that the White Wolves have changed and that they weren't being reasonable, but nothing specific. Also, during the meeting she seemed more cautious and wanted to take extra precautions. Paul was initially against it, but agreed to be more careful."

His ribs were feeling even worse. Ed gritted his teeth and formed his hands into fists. He just needed to tough it out for a bit longer.

"I supported her during the meeting, so afterwards we started a conversation and ended up hanging out a bit. She showed me an old mansion in town, but there was nothing mission related," Ed said.

"What did you do at the mansion?" Reed asked.

"Nothing much," Ed hesitated. Although Meg hadn't said to not tell anyone. He sort of wanted the hidden attic to remain a secret. "She showed me a hidden room. I went through books detailing Ukon's history, but couldn't find anything useful. We told stories about ourselves. She played with an old telescope."

"Telescope?" Reed said. "What floor were you on?"

"Third story, but the ceilings were really tall so it was more like the fourth," Ed said, confused.

There was a moment of silence.

"That was clever of her," Reed remarked.

"What do you mean?" Ed asked.

"From the sounds of it, a lot of things are changing and the vandals need to make a move. It is unlikely that Meg would stand by and do nothing. She probably went to the mansion so that she could scope out the town. She most likely brought you along so that it wouldn't look suspicious and she would have an alibi. Remember that in the beginning she was opposed to having you in the group. She might trust you a bit more now, but she still should be wary about making you her friend," Reed said.

For a second Ed forgot about the pain in his ribs. He would hate to admit, but that did sound pretty clever.

"But then what was she looking for?" Ed asked.

"I don't know," Reed lied. "It is likely that either Meg or Paul will make a move soon. If Meg is truly that subtle then we might easily miss something. Keep an eye on Paul instead. If Paul seems really uneasy or anxious about something then Meg is probably making a move. She seems cautious and probably wouldn't do anything without him knowing."

"Do you think Meg might be the key to this?" Ed said.

"Most likely," Reed said.

Ed looked down at his shoes, unsure if he was worried or excited at that prospect.

"Is there anything else?" Reed asked.

Ed hesitated.

"No," he said. "That was it."

From the corner of his eye, Ed saw Reed studying him. It was only then did Ed realize that he had been pulling at his collar again.

"I'm fine," Ed lied. If only his ribs would hurry up and heal.

After a moment of thought, Reed discreetly put a few coins on the table. "You were here for a bit. Go into the shop and buy something. Tomorrow, I'll be hanging out around the town's center," Reed said.

Ed took a step back from the display and brushed past the table. He pocketed the coins and entered the shop.

Once inside, the sweet aroma of baked goods swam around him. Ed allowed himself to take a deep breath and let his shoulders relax. He chose a small slice of cake with red frosting. As he was about to pay, he dug around his pocket for the change Reed had given him. His eyes instantly grew big when he counted the coins. Most of the small desserts in this shop were below 300 cents.

Reed had given him 1000.

Ed held back a look of surprise and passed the cashier the money. With one hand he took the small cake while and with the other he played with the extra coins. Reed must have accidentally given him too much. Ed intended to return the extra change. However, when he turned around to leave the shop. Reed was gone.

Almost every town in Amestris had a town square, Ukon was no exception. The square was located in front of the town hall. An assortment of shops and stores lined the exterior. While in the center laid an ornate fountain. Many people were walking about, enjoying the evening breeze. A newspaper boy was walking back and forth, selling papers. To his left, a group of construction workers were flirting with some locals. While in front of the sandwich shop, two men were engaged in a heated debate over the proper way to deal with wood rot. A group of young children were playing next to the central fountain. Nearby, sat a lone construction worker.

Reed stared at the book on his lap, trying to resist the urge to scan the crowd. He had only been sitting here for half an hour, but it felt like twice that much. He tried not to think about the single rose submerged in the water behind him. He had placed the meeting signal to the other Drachman spy this morning, but he had been meaning to speak with her since yesterday.

In an attempt to get his mind off of his growing anxiety, Reed thought of the other Drachman spy. He wasn't exactly sure what to think of her. From what he had seen, she had a cold and ruthless personality. However he had the slightest feeling that she was a bit inexperienced. He had been able to put a knife to her neck. Perhaps she just didn't get much field work.

Reed couldn't help but wonder who was the better spy. On one hand he practiced covert skills practically everyday, plus he had pretty good aim. However her ruthless personality would become invaluable if she ever had to-

Reed shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking about that.

No matter who was the better spy, by Dagger protocol, she was the commanding officer. So he had to follow her orders no matter what.

'Which was just wonderful'

A movement in his peripheral vision made Reed look up. Almost instantly, he recognized the other Drachman spy. She looked the same as she had in the alley, exactly the same dress and hairstyle. The only difference was a sketchpad in her hands.

Casually, she opened it and began to sketch the fountain.

"Are you sure no one is following you?" she asked. Loud enough for him to hear, but soft enough to not be overheard.

"The rest of the team is busy," Reed said.

He was right. Mustang spent his evenings at the inn, chatting with other construction workers and collecting intel. Ed would most likely be heading back to the inn now. Hawkeye was doing sweeps of the town, double checking some buildings for clues. As long as Reed returned by dinner time, no one would be suspicious.

Reed let his eyes scan the crowd.

"Though I can't say the same for you," he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"There are two members of the White Wolves located approximately 60 feet (18 meters) to your right," Reed said.

The other spy smiled.

"So you are observant after all," she sighed. "But that's not that impressive."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"There are two more White Wolves behind you," she said.

Reed stiffened. Slowly, so that no one would notice, he removed a small mirror from his pocket. He held it against the book pages and brought the book up to his face. This allowed him to see behind him.

"Look a little more to the right, near the bookstore," she said.

Sure enough, she was right.

Reed set his book down.

"What's going on?" he asked. "For days there wasn't a single trace of the Wolves in Ukon. Then over the last 24 hours, they all just started showing up."

"Well I wish I could answer that, but they don't necessarily trust me," she said. There was a look of scorn on her face.

"They allow you to walk around Ukon. That's impressive in itself," Reed said.

"Well, you can say I'm a bit of a special case," she said.

"What do you mean?" Reed asked.

"I'll tell you later. It's not important right now," she said.

Reed looked down.

"So what did you want to talk about?" she asked.

"I was hoping you knew what the Wolves were planning," he asked.

"Do you have any specific concerns?"

"Jeopardizing the station's construction is a stupid move. It is only going to send more military personnel to Heinsworth. After all, it's the closest military base to Ukon. All it accomplishes is making it harder to raid the base and increasing the possibility that the military would get involved. Plus those kids are just a plain liability," Reed said. "Something isn't lining up. The Wolves wouldn't be this careless."

"Well, I'm all for finding out what their plans are, but it's not like I can just ask someone," she said. Her shoe struck the ground in frustration.

"So what should we do?" he asked.

"Well you were their contact longer than I was. Is there anyone you can ask?" she said.

As much as Reed wanted to say "no," he knew that that would have been a lie.

. . .

"If you ever need help, feel free to swing by."

"Viera, I don't think I will ever come back here."

"I know, but you can never be so sure. There is a bar in Ukon called the 'Shrunken Tavern' or something. We always have a member stationed there."

. . .

"Do you know anything about the Shrunken Tavern?" Reed asked.

The contact creased her brow. "Yes, the bartender is a member of the White Wolves, big grump. Why?"

Reed shook his head.

"It could be nothing," he said.

"Tell me anyway," she insisted.

"It'll just waste your time," Reed said, shaking his head, "I rather deal with it myself."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you," she said. "Fact is, I already distrust you. So you do not want to give me another reason."

Reed bit the inside of his cheek.

"We only met four days ago. I doubt I'm that unlikable," Reed said.

The spy pursed her lips. "I am referring to the Parktown Incident."

Reed's eyes went wide. How the hell would she know about that?

"Why are you so surprised?" she asked.

"I didn't know that the incident was common knowledge," Reed said, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"It's not," she reassured. "But as I said before, I'm a special case." She paused for a second and smiled. "What else do you expect from the leader of Operation Dagger?"

Reed froze, a wave of nausea washing over him.

'Of all the spies in this country, you managed to land yourself on a mission with the freaking leader of Operation Dagger'

'Spectacular'

There were rumors about the leader of Operation Dagger. She was described as a bloodthirsty maniac. And that wasn't an exaggeration, she made all the other superiors look harmless. Reportedly, she had once killed an entire battalion because they had insulted her.

Just his luck.

"Well I told you my secret," she said. "So now tell me yours. What are you hiding?"

"Viera, the White Wolves' explosives expert," he hesitated. "I was her friend."

The contact scoffed. "Wonderful. I have been kissing up to the White Wolves for weeks, while you have major connections with the group."

Reed couldn't tell if she was just annoyed or angry.

"Well the rest of the group hated me-"

"I don't care," she said, silencing him. "Tell me, what are you going to do?"

"I'm probably going to check out the Tavern tomorrow. See what I can find," Reed said.

"Good luck with that," she said, sarcastically.

Reed looked down at his book again. He wasn't sure about what he should say next. Maybe he shouldn't say anything at all.

The spy observed him for a moment before rolling her eyes.

"You spies always look so terrified when you find out who I am. But I must give you some credit, most men would have begged for their lives by now. You are different from what I expected."

Reed looked to the side.

"What were you expecting?" he asked.

"Well, only a fool would pull a stunt like Parktown. So I figured you were either an arrogant fool or a coward." She twirled the pencil in her hand. "And I was certain that you would have complained about your orders. So either you are skilled at feigning confidence or you have conflicting morals. Maybe it's both. Maybe I'm completely wrong. But tell me, will you follow your orders?"

Reed looked solemnly at the ground.

"Rest assured that I will carry them out to the best of my ability," he said truthfully.

The spy smiled once more and looked up at the sky.

"Don't think about it too much," she said. "Just act. Once you kill one child, everything else becomes easier. Before you know it, you will become insensitive to everything around you, the perfect soldier." She paused for a moment, dwelling on that concept. After a moment, she tilted her head. "Forgive me for all the questions, but I am curious. Do you regret what you did in Parktown?"

Reed was silent for a moment.

He had spent days agonising over this, wrestling over what had happened. What he could have done. What he shouldn't have done. He had analysed every detail, replayed every action, and considered every possibility.

In the end it didn't matter how much sleep he lost or what he did.

He could never shake the uncertainty.

"I really don't know."

Author's Note:

Fun Fact: Reed's missing beard

Normally I usually catch plot and continuity errors within my first few drafts. Unfortunately, one of them managed to slip through. But it's an amusing one, so I'll share it.

Last chapter "Reed" said the Wolves never gave him anything sharp. As a result he had long hair and had to get it cut. Now being female, I totally forgot that men grew beards. I would expect that as a military officer and being relatively young, the real Logan Reed was clean shaven. Also remember that for a second, Kani mistook "Reed" for Logan Reed, so I'm guessing that he must have shaved it before then.

I know that "Reed" did not shave it at the White Wolves camp since he and his hander left right away. I also know that he did not shave it when he reached the hotel in Parktown. "Reed" was much to shaken up to do anything useful.

I have thought of multiple explanations for this, each one is improbable in their own way.

The simplest explanation is that Reed and his handler shaved it on the train after they cut his hair. Although reasonable, I think shaving a beard in the cargo hold of a moving train would be pretty hard to do. The second explanation is that Reed hadn't started growing facial hair yet, but that is also unlikely. My personal favorite, although the most unreasonable, is that "Reed" started to grow a beard, but it was so damn awful that the White Wolves begged him to shave it off. However this breaks continuity (again) and it is unlikely that they would let him shave his beard, but not cut his hair.

Either way, the thought of my little baby faced Drachman spy with a full on beard makes me smile. I mean "Reed" was only 23, that would have been hella amusing.