Author's Note:
The first draft of Chapter 12 was twice as long as a regular chapter. After much consideration I decided to split it in half, the first half being Chapter 12 and the second half being Chapter 13. This makes it easier for me to edit and revise. It also gives the reader more time to process the information. The only drawback is that the pacing might be a little slow.
Reviews are always appreciated.
I own nothing.
Ed leaned against the corner of a building, trying his best to blend in with the morning crowd.
He scanned the buildings in front of him, slowly reading each faded sign. It had to be here somewhere. Ed shifted his posture, trying to make out the signs on the far side of the street. He let out a breath when he finally spotted it. There at the end of the street the words "Wilfred's Convenience" hung in blue letters above the doorway of a small store.
It was the convenience store owned by Meg's father.
Ed's stomach turned. He grabbed the rim of his hat and pulled it down to cover his eyes.
He didn't want to do this.
Meg had already done so much for him. The very last thing he wanted to do was endanger her.
But the intel team was getting desperate.
Since the incident in the forest two days ago, they had spent every free moment scouring the town for evidence. However, it seemed that the White Wolves had already covered their tracks. Neither Viera nor the group of thugs had resurfaced again and none of the townspeople would admit to knowing anything. Hawkeye even went as far as to break into the town's archives, but there wasn't anyone on record with the name "Viera."
In the meantime, the vandals had received multiple assignments. They were all fairly minor: collecting blueprints, tailing people, and gathering supplies. The intel team had tried to analyze these tasks to no avail. If there was any motive behind these assignments, it certainly wasn't clear to them.
Ed honestly didn't know what to make of it.
Mustang was apparently thinking something similar. He had decided to focus team efforts on uncovering information about Viera. As he explained it, it was more worthwhile to pursue a possible leader in the White Wolves than try to grapple with whatever puzzle piece the vandals were giving them.
Which brought him back to Meg.
As much as Ed hated it, she was the only lead they had.
Ed reached up to adjust his hat, taking a deep breath as he did so. One step at a time he made his way over to the convenience store. He came to a stop just shy of the door. Sunlight was streaming in through the dusty front windows, casting the inside of the store with a warm gleam. Ed spotted Meg among the rows of merchandise, sweeping the floor.
He pursed his lips into a fine line and pushed the door open. A bell jingled above him, signalling his entrance.
Meg looked over and smiled upon recognising him.
"What brings you here?" she asked.
Ed opened his mouth to answer. But before he could, a voice called out from behind the shelves.
"Meg," the voice said. "Who is it?"
"Just one of my friends," Meg replied.
A middle aged man wearing speckled glasses stepped out from behind a row of shelves.
"Nice to meet you," the man greeted.
"Nice to meet you too," Ed replied. "If you don't mind, may I please speak to Meg outside?"
Meg looked at her father.
"Go ahead," he said.
"Thank you," Ed said.
They both stepped outside.
Meg turned to him once the door was closed.
"What's this about?" she asked.
Ed glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.
"I need to ask you about Viera," Ed whispered.
Meg shook her head.
"You need to leave," she said.
"Please," Ed said. "I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't desperate."
"I can't help you," she said.
"But-"
"No," she said. "I'm sorry, but I can't risk it."
"Please," Ed said.
Meg simply shook her head.
"No," she repeated.
Ed sighed deeply. "But you do know we're with the military, don't you?"
Meg closed her eyes. For a moment Ed was afraid she would refuse him again, but she slowly nodded.
"How do you know?"
"I can't-"
"Please," Ed said. "I need to know."
"No," Meg said. "You have no idea how dangerous these people are. If they found out I helped you-"
She looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
Ed's stomach turned. He took a step forward, fighting the growing repulsion in his chest.
"I'm sorry about what happened the other day," he said. "I'm sorry that you were attacked. But if this continues to go on only more people are going to get hurt. The White Wolves already blew up a train station. Can you imagine what they are planning next? Ukon could be thrust into complete chaos. The people I'm with are trying our hardest to stop it before it gets to that point, but we need your help."
Meg said nothing.
"Please," Ed said. "We can't do this without you."
She took a deep breath and turned to face him once more.
"Fine," she said. "But we can't talk here."
Ed followed Meg down the side alley that ran next to the shop. There was a small garden located in the back of the building. As they entered through the picket gate, Ed took a moment to look around. There were vines growing on the back wall of the building. The swirling green foliage clung to the tan stonework. The garden itself consisted of neat rows of fawn lilies and multicolored freesias; the vibrant colors contrasted by the dark soil. The most prominent feature, however, was an oak tree located behind a row of bushes. It stood nearly as tall as the building itself.
Meg led him under its low branches. There was a small bench leaning against the side of the house. From this spot they were completely out of sight to any passerby.
They both sat down.
"It's a beautiful garden," Ed said.
Meg smiled. "I do my best to maintain it. Sometimes Paul helps too."
Ed imagined what Paul might look like wearing a straw hat and pink garden gloves, hunched over in the dirt as he tenderly pruned a bush. He couldn't help but grin.
"So what exactly do you want to know?" Meg asked, bringing him back to the task at hand.
"I guess start with how you know who we are?" Ed asked.
"Well, when I first met you I thought you looked familiar," she said. "My father has a stash of old newspapers, so I went through them. There was this old paper from the Ishvalan Civil War. The Flame Alchemist was on the front page. The rest wasn't that hard to figure out."
A backwater town like this was likely rampant with anti-military sentiment. Meg probably grew up believing that the military was full of murderous extremists, yet she still decided to help them. Ed felt an undeniable respect towards the girl sitting next to him. He glanced over at her, attempting to meet her eyes. However she wasn't looking in his direction, instead focusing on a group of finches singing on the fence.
"Did you tell anyone?" Ed asked.
"No," she said. "Not my father. Not even Paul."
"Thank you," Ed said.
Meg shook her head.
"I didn't do it for you," she said. "For the safety of everyone around me, the Wolves can never find out that I helped you."
"They won't," Ed said.
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Meg nodded.
"My father used to be a member of the White Wolves," she said. "The organization wasn't always like this. The former leader believed in passive resistance and peaceful compromises. But then several months ago, he died. No one is certain how. Honestly, it doesn't even matter anymore. The second in command and the explosives expert have taken over. It's because of them that the Wolves have been behaving so violently. My father couldn't support that, so he left."
"So then why affiliate yourself with the group?"
"I thought if I curried favor with them, then they would leave my father alone," she said.
"Has it worked?"
Meg shrugged.
Ed decided to change the subject.
"Can you tell me more about Viera?" he asked.
"She's their explosives expert," Meg said. "When I first met her I didn't think she was that bad. She was so much nicer than the others, but over time she became as cold and cruel as the rest of them."
"Sounds dangerous."
Meg nodded. "She's the mastermind behind the Wolves' plans. There's word going around that she's planning something big."
"Do you know what it is?"
"No. They haven't told us anything," she said. "But everyone seems pretty confident that the military won't be able to touch us."
"Do you know where I can find Viera?" Ed asked.
Meg shook her head. "I don't even know how to contact them. They're always the ones to find us, not the other way around."
"Do you know where the other members might be?" he asked.
Meg thought for a moment.
"I know that a lot of Wolves hang out in a bar somewhere, but I don't know which one."
"Would your father know?"
Meg shook her head frantically. "You can't ask him."
"Okay I won't," Ed said. She was already doing so much to help them, the best he could do was honor her wishes.
"What do you know about the second in command?" Ed asked instead.
"I've never met him," Meg said. "But I think his name is Jason."
"Know anything else about him?"
"Not really," she said. "Apparently he's especially skilled in combat, but that's all I know."
"How about the group of thugs that attacked us?"
"I don't know their names," she said. "I think they used to be in the military, but you wouldn't know by the way they act. They mostly run around causing trouble."
"Then why do the White Wolves tolerate them?"
"Something about their leader being really powerful," Meg said. "I honestly don't know anything more about them. They're not exactly the kind of people I like to be around."
"Okay," Ed said. "Do you know anything else that might be of use to us?"
Meg thought some more. "The Wolves used to have a main base in the forest, but they tore it down."
"Any idea why?"
"It's probably related to Viera's plan, but I'm not sure," she said. "What I do know is that a lot of Wolves are gathering in Ukon. Again I don't know the specifics, but it's probably related to Viera's plan."
"How do you know if someone is part of the White Wolves?" Ed asked.
"They don't wear anything distinctive," she said. "It's mainly the way they act. They often hang out in groups. Most of them are arrogant and self important. Ordinary people are generally really cautious around them."
"Okay," Ed said.
Meg looked down.
"I know that's not a lot to go on," she said.
"No, you've been a great help," Ed said.
Meg smiled.
Ed glanced around for a clock. The shift would be starting soon.
"I'm sorry, but I must get going," he said, standing up. "Thank you for everything."
Meg stood up too. "You're welcome," she said. "I guess I'll see you at the meeting this afternoon."
"Yeah, I'll be there," Ed said. "Wouldn't want to miss a bunch of kids pooling over blueprints."
"It's not that bad," Meg said. "Maybe afterwards we'll check out the mansion again."
"I'll be looking forward to it," Ed said, turning to leave.
Once he was out of sight he increased his pace to a slow run, navigating through the side alleys. His ribs ached in his chest, but the pain was manageable. Technically he still had a little time left before the shift started, but he wanted to report to Mustang as soon as possible.
The inn's door was propped open to let in the cool morning breeze. Even before his feet had reached the steps, Ed could smell the scent of bacon and fresh bread wafting down the street. His stomach growled. Thanks to his little excursion, he'd had to skip breakfast. Ed slipped in, scowling as the aroma intensified. He was tempted to plop himself down and inhale a plate or two, but he forced himself to head for the stairs.
Back in the room, Mustang was pulling on his shoes.
"How'd it go?" he asked.
Ed quickly repeated everything Meg had said.
Mustang stayed silent after Ed had finished speaking, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.
"So Viera really is that dangerous," Mustang said. "We'll have to be careful from now on."
"I thought we were already being careful," Ed said.
Mustang rolled his eyes.
"I'll probably take another look around town this evening," he said. "See if I can find this bar Meg mentioned."
Ed nodded and cast a glance at the clock. They'll need to get going soon. He took a breath. There was something else he wanted to discuss.
"What's going to happen to this town?" Ed asked.
"What do you mean?"
"The White Wolves blew up an entire train station," Ed said. "How is the military going to respond?"
"They already are. Isn't that why we're here," Mustang said.
"Don't give me that," Ed said. "The military won't just have us take a look around and leave. What happens after we've finished gathering intelligence?"
Mustang fell silent, staring at a single spot on the floor.
"Did you ever wonder why you were assigned to be my apprentice?" Mustang asked.
Ed scoffed. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Answer the question, Fullmetal."
Ed rolled his eyes.
"Well if I had to guess, I'd say it was the result of your meddling."
"You're wrong," Mustang said. "I requested to have Hawkeye, Reed, and myself assigned to this team. That was all. I wasn't the one who fabricated our cover IDs." He stood up. "But if I did, I would've had you pose as Hawkeye's son. It's more believable since you both share physical attributes. Plus, a single mother taking her son on a dangerous assignment in order to make ends meet is the perfect cover. It makes you sympathetic and that makes people underestimate you. Furthermore if you were posing as her son, then you wouldn't even need to be a construction worker. This would allow you to explore the town while everyone else was stuck at the construction site. Wouldn't that be more practical?"
"I guess," Ed said.
"Furthermore, why assign you as my apprentice? Why not pair you with Reed? We're both powerful alchemists. Wouldn't it make more sense to spread us evenly throughout the group?"
Ed looked down at the floor. Though he hated to admit it, Mustang was making a good point. From a tactical standpoint, it didn't make sense to pair them together.
"So then why am I posing as your apprentice?" Ed asked.
"In the circumstance that Ukon destabilizes, it allows both Hawkeye and Reed to be easily extracted, thus ensuring their safety. Meanwhile, you and I can both remain here," Mustang said.
"But if the situation were really that perilous, why leave us behind at all?" Ed asked. "Why not extract us too?"
"Because we're both State Alchemists," Mustang said simply.
Ed rolled his eyes. He was getting really fed up with Mustang's cryptic answers.
"That doesn't make sense," he said. "We'll just be doing the same thing, but with two people instead of four. Working to identify the White Wolves, figuring out where they're hiding, waiting until-"
"You're not getting it," Mustang said.
"Well what else would we do?" Ed asked.
Mustang looked away, a certain darkness in his eyes.
Ed's blood suddenly ran cold.
"No," he said. "They wouldn't."
"They have in the past and they won't hesitate to now."
"But these are people," Ed said. "Civilians."
"Ishval had civilians too," Mustang said.
"But we still don't know who's a member of the White Wolves. We wouldn't know who to target," Ed said.
"It wouldn't matter," Mustang said. "Most of the town supports the White Wolves anyway. That's reason enough."
Ed stood in stunned silence.
"Do Hawkeye and Reed know this?" Ed asked.
"I didn't tell them," Mustang said. "But they might've guessed it."
Ed formed his hands into fists.
"These people have no idea what they're getting into," he said. "I grew up in a town even smaller than this one. When you live in such a backwater, you don't really realize just how powerful the military can be."
"I know," Mustang said.
Ed fell silent for a moment.
Before he joined the military, he knew what he was getting himself into. He knew what it meant to be a State Alchemist. Knew that he would be scorned, ostracized, hated, and despised. He knew that one day he might be ordered to do the unthinkable. He'd accepted that fact long ago.
Or at least he thought he did.
"Fullmetal," Mustang said, rousing Ed from his thoughts. "If it comes down to that, then let me take care of it."
"Colonel-"
"I mean it," Mustang said. "I am more than capable of taking care of this on my own."
Ed clenched his jaw.
"If you're doubting my abilities-"
"Fullmetal!"
Ed glared at his commanding officer; a fiery retort on the edge of his lips.
But then he stopped.
There was this look on Mustang's face. It was the hard determined gaze of a trained soldier, of a man who had seen unspeakable horrors. But creeping out from the seams, so subtle but so utterly unmistakable, was a deep desperation.
"Please."
Ed looked away.
"Fine," he said. "Have it your way."
"Thank you."
Mustang sat down again and sighed heavily. "I don't want this anymore than you do," he said. "But this mission is being overseen by Central Command, possibly even the Fuhrer. Our orders are clear."
Ed looked away.
Part of him wished he could forget everything he had just learned. But another part, the more reasonable part, knew that it was better to find out now than later down the road.
For the first time since the mission started, he found himself feeling glad that Al wasn't here. At least his younger brother wouldn't have to witness whatever atrocities he may be forced to commit.
Wait a minute.
Ed looked up, surprised that he hadn't realized it sooner.
This entire time Mustang had been bearing the burden of the mission, willingly submitting himself to whatever horrors lay ahead. From Ed's understanding this was Mustang's way of protecting him and preserving whatever innocence he had left.
It was the very same thing Ed was doing for Al.
That small similarity lay between the two officers. A detail so minuscule, but so meaningful. It wasn't enough to bridge the gap between the two. Both of them were still too stubborn for their own good. But in that moment, they were able to reach a mutual understanding.
And that was progress.
Ed suddenly spun around.
"But only if it gets to that point!" he declared. "And you can bet your sorry ass that I'm going to do everything it takes to prevent that from happening!"
The look on Mustang's face gave way to a simple smile.
"I wouldn't expect anything less." Mustang stood up and pulled on his jacket. "Now come on," he said. "We're going to be late."
They proceeded in silence to the construction site.
Mustang adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. Miraculously, the bullet missed all of his bones and ligaments. However, he hesitated to say he was in the clear. His entire forearm remained sore, itchy, and the threat of infection continued to loom over him. The constant manual labor was certainly not helping matters. Tasks that he could usually complete without even breaking a sweat now caused him to grit his teeth and stifle a cry of pain.
Mustang was starting to understand Ed's frustration.
In addition, this mission was progressing incredibly slowly. The White Wolves had been sporadically attacking the military for months. Most of it was property damage, but it was only a matter of time before more and more people got stuck in the crossfire.
They needed to be stopped.
It would probably be wise to scout the bars in town. With luck, he'll be able to discover the one the White Wolves frequented. That should help in identifying some of their members, maybe they'll even overhear some of their plans. "Jason" was a far too common name to risk another trip to the records room. Plus, if the White Wolves had erased all evidence of Viera, they probably did it for Jason as well.
Mustang looked up at the cloudless sky. He wondered if it had been wise to tell Ed his theory.
What evidence did he have anyway? There were plenty of reasons why they could've been paired together. Maybe they were worried about Ed's injuries and wanted to partner him with the strongest member of the team. Maybe whoever made their cover IDs just wasn't skilled at intelligence work. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Or maybe the stress of the mission was finally getting to him and he was seeing threats that weren't really there.
But he knew he was kidding himself.
The military would not hesitate to burn Ukon to the ground if that meant annihilating the White Wolves.
Mustang glanced at the townspeople around them. He observed as they went about their day, murmuring greetings, buying groceries, and talking of the weather.
He couldn't let that happen.
Mustang glanced at Ed.
He would protect them all.
As the day passed Mustang kept an eye out for the others, trying to spot an opportune moment to relay the information. Unfortunately there was a lot to do at the site, so they were unable to slip away.
They weren't totally out of luck though.
The clock struck at 12 o'clock, signalling the start of the lunch hour. Ed hammered one last nail into place before looking over at Mustang. In response Mustang gave him a slight nod. Ed immediately began to scan the site, looking for the others. Age and recklessness aside, Ed was a prodigy.
Mustang lifted his head to observe the crowd. The site was clearing pretty quickly. With luck, they should have enough time for a quick conversation. Behind him he heard Ed stomp heavily on a plank.
"Would you like some help with that beam, ma'am?" Ed asked.
"Why thank you," Hawkeye answered.
Mustang crouched to the ground, seemingly taking great interest in rearranging the toolbox. Behind him, Ed recounted his encounter with Meg.
"So what do you think?" Ed asked.
"Well it all seems plausible," Hawkeye said. "Although Meg does have the motive to lie, it sounds like she was telling the truth."
"What makes you say that?" Ed asked.
"She didn't downplay the information at all. She volunteered vital information, specifically giving us the names of both leaders and their skill sets," Hawkeye said. "Plus, she has yet to tell anyone of our true identities."
"Good point," Ed said.
There was a moment of silence
"Is there anything else on your mind?" Hawkeye asked.
Ed sighed.
Even without seeing him, Mustang could tell he was stressed.
"These people," Ed said. "They have no idea what they are getting into."
"Are you referring to the townspeople or the White Wolves?" she asked.
"Both," Ed said. He paused for a moment. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt."
"Hopefully no one would be," Hawkeye said. "This mission isn't over yet. There's still time to turn this around."
"I guess," Ed said.
There was the sound of shuffling feet.
"Anyway," Hawkeye said. "I must be going. Thank you for gathering this information. You did a good job."
Mustang heard her footsteps fade away. He closed the toolbox lid and latched it. Wordlessly, Ed came up behind him and they walked off toward the street.
"So what do you want for lunch?" Mustang asked. He scanned the nearby shops. Where was Reed?
"The deli over there sells good sandwiches," Ed said.
Mustang followed his gaze. Sure enough Reed was sitting at some of the patio tables outside.
"Sounds good," he said.
They walked over. Mustang paused outside the shop and passed Ed some bills.
"Get me something," he said.
"Anything?" Ed asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Well," Mustang hesitated. "Something edible."
Ed gave a wicked grin.
"And with substance," Mustang added.
But Ed had already entered the shop.
Mustang stood still for a moment wondering if it was wise to trust Ed with something as crucial as lunch. Shaking his head, he walked over to the patio tables and sat down at the table next to Reed.
The other officer didn't so much as look up at him. However he leaned back in his seat, a small gesture that he was paying attention.
In a low tone, he began to relay the information to Reed. Mustang kept his eyes on the street the entire time. Watching the people pass by, ensuring that no one was paying any attention to the two construction workers in front of the deli.
Which was a shame, because if he had been paying attention to the officer next to him, Mustang would have seen a dark look cross his face, the worried lines ingrained in his expression, and how his lips pressed into a thin white line. The subtle clues that something was amiss.
But he wasn't looking in that direction.
By the time Mustang finished talking and finally glanced over, it was already too late. The telling expression on Reed's face had once more been replaced by an emotionless mask.
"And Meg told him all this?" Reed said, eyes fixated on the table.
"Yes," Mustang said. "The vandals are having another meeting this evening, so Ed's going to keep an eye on her and see if she reveals anything else."
Seemingly only processing the first word, Reed nodded and crumpled his trash into a ball. He stood up from the table.
"Thank you," he said, turning to leave.
Mustang watched Reed walk off into the distance. Now he was not a psychologist by any means, but he was pretty good at figuring out what made people tick. So perhaps it was a bit worrying that every time he started to make a solid assumption about the man, Reed would do something peculiar that seemed to invalidate it.
Since the incident a few days ago, Reed had become even more reserved. He barely spent time in the common room. Sometimes he would show up for breakfast or maybe dinner, wolfing down a piece of toast and exchanging some jokes before excusing himself once more. Mustang assumed that Reed was spending most of his time in town, conversing with the townspeople or acquainting himself with Mark.
But he could very well be wrong.
Mustang knew from the Parktown Incident that Reed both had trouble trusting authority and a habit of keeping suspicions to himself. Therefore it was reasonable to conclude that Reed was keeping something from him, possibly something very important.
However just because someone could be keeping a secret didn't mean that there was a secret. Thus far, Reed had been a productive member of the team, sharing insights and concerns and lending his skills whenever needed. There was no reason to suspect foul play.
Mustang looked up at the blue sky, wondering if the stress of the mission was getting to him.
The door to the shop swung open, interrupting his thoughts.
"Got our food," Ed said, holding a large paper bag in his arms. Slowly, he began to unload the bag's contents onto the table. Sandwich after sandwich after sandwich after sandwich was placed onto the wooden surface.
Mustang gaped at the growing pile of food.
"Why did you get so much?" he asked.
"I'm hungry," Ed said simply. He nonchalantly slid Mustang's sandwich towards him, before sitting down to eat, seemingly set on consuming the impressive pile of food.
Mustang stared at him for a moment longer before rolling his eyes. At least he had actually gotten him a sandwich. Deciding that he was too hungry to squabble with Fullmetal, he figured he'd let this one go. Mustang unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite.
And immediately spit it out.
He grabbed a napkin and began to furiously wipe his tongue.
"How much mustard did you put in this!" Mustang exclaimed.
Ed looked up at him, an expression of pure satisfaction on his face.
"That's payback for making me skip breakfast."
That evening, Ed made his way over to the abandoned clinic.
The situation with the vandals was perplexing to say the least. The moment the vandals received their new assignments, Ed had instantly become suspicious. Up until now, all their work had been related to the train station. So why the change?
Furthermore it was too much of a coincidence that it happened the very day after the incident in the forest. It was likely that these orders were a deliberate part of the White Wolves' plans. However Ed had yet to find out the true motive behind these orders. There were just too many possibilities. Meg was also attacked that day, so maybe they were simply trying to keep her busy. Or perhaps the White Wolves were short on manpower and out of desperation assigned the vandals grunt work. Maybe it could be something else entirely.
Unfortunately, none of the vandals seemed concerned. They were all ecstatic that they were finally entrusted with something other than vandalism. No one was more prideful than Paul. He had become borderline insufferable these past few days, ordering everyone around without a second thought. Multiple times, Ed had to resist punching him in the face.
Speaking of the devil, Paul was standing guard outside the clinic. Ed tilted his head, it was unlike Paul to undertake such a menial task.
Paul looked up as Ed approached.
"The meeting is cancelled," he said.
Ed stopped in his tracks.
"What?" Ed asked.
"I said the meeting is cancelled," Paul repeated, rolling his eyes.
"I meant why," Ed said. This didn't make any sense. When he'd spoken to Meg this morning, she had said that there was going to be a meeting.
Unfortunately, Paul's response was less than helpful.
"None of your business," he said.
"Well, is there going to be another meeting tomorrow or?"
"I said it's not your business," Paul repeated.
"Then how will I know when the next meeting will be?" Ed asked.
"Not my problem."
Ed bit back a retort.
This didn't make sense. Paul had been so set on having consistent meetings. He wouldn't have changed his schedule on a whim.
"Well what am I supposed to do until then?" Ed asked.
"I don't know," Paul said. "Why don't you get the schematics of the construction site?"
"I gave you those four days ago," Ed said.
"Then get me the new ones."
"They're the same ones."
Paul threw up his hands.
"Fine, then don't do anything," he said.
Ed tilted his head. It was unusual for Paul to give up an argument this quickly.
"Did something happen?" Ed asked.
"I told you it's not your business," Paul said.
Ed thought for a moment.
"Is it Meg?"
Paul spun around quickly. Before Ed could react, Paul shoved him, the force of the blow causing him to stumble backward.
"Leave!"
Ed didn't need to be told twice. He was down the alley before Paul could utter another breath.
He came to a stop once he was concealed within the shadows. Ed took a moment to inspect his shoulders. Luckily, Paul hadn't shoved him that hard. He leaned against the bricks and watched him for a while. Every few minutes, a group of kids would walk up to him. However, just like Ed, they were simply told that the meeting was cancelled. When pressed for more details, Paul didn't give any more information than a stern gaze.
At least Ed knew it wasn't personal.
Though it was a bit of a disappointment. Paul trusted some of the older kids. At the very least, Ed had expected that he'd tell them what was going on.
Ed scowled. Why couldn't he make it easy for him just this once? He'd been looking forward to returning to the inn and taking a nap. But alas, it appeared that he'll be spending the afternoon sulking in alleys and hiding behind crates.
Lamenting over the loss of a perfectly good evening, Ed started to recount his encounter with Paul.
Something had probably happened to Meg. Her absence was unusual in itself. Furthermore when Ed asked about her, Paul had shoved him. Ed rubbed his shoulder. As arrogant as Paul was, he wasn't the type to get physical. For a few moments, Ed considered running off and checking on Meg. A group of thugs had already attacked her. She could be in danger. However Ed cast a glance at Paul, pacing back and forth across the doorway. He wouldn't be here if he had better places to be. If Meg was in danger, he would be at her side.
Maybe whatever happened wasn't serious at all.
Ed glanced at Paul again. Whatever it was, it probably happened last minute. Otherwise they would've had time to circulate the information among themselves.
When the last group of kids had been dismissed, Paul turned down one of the side alleys. Ed followed at a length, trying his best to be inconspicuous.
As they continued to walk, the change in Paul's demeanour became increasingly apparent. Paul was accustomed to sauntering down streets, waving to each and every acquaintance and flashing cocky smiles. Now he trudged forward with his hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes downcast at the floor. They passed a group of kids playing hopscotch. One of them called out to Paul, but he didn't even look up.
What could've possibly caused this change in behavior? Ed considered scenario after scenario, but none of them seemed likely.
They arrived at Meg's street. Paul paused for a moment at the corner, his hands turning into fists at his sides. If Ed didn't know any better, he'd say Paul looked nervous. Having seemingly steeled his nerves, Paul shook himself once more and headed straight for the alley beside Meg's house.
Hidden in the shadows, Ed waited until Paul had disappeared from view before following him once more. He slowed his pace when he arrived at the back alley, trying to figure out where Paul went. Ed scanned the entire alley, checking the side streets, the bushes, even the bench under the oak tree, but there wasn't any sign of Paul. He walked around the entire perimeter of the building but found nothing.
Ed bit his lip. Where had Paul gone?
He paced back and forth along the alley, trying to think of what to do.
Suddenly he heard voices above him.
Looking up, he spotted a window on the side of the building. He attempted to peek inside, but he was too... well... the building's foundation was too tall. Yes. Damn whoever designed these shops with needlessly high foundations. That's just a waste of concrete.
His temper assuaged, Ed stood under the window and tried to listen in as best he could.
"Yes," a voice said. It sounded like Paul. "I turned everyone away."
"Good," someone answered. Ed recognized Meg's voice. "That's good."
"So what's this about?" Paul asked.
There was a moment of silence.
"I got new orders from Viera," Meg said. She paused again. "She wants us to completely destroy the train station."
"What? Why?"
"She didn't say. But she specifically said to use explosives, so she's serious about it."
"Explosives?" Paul asked. "Where would we even get those?"
"Viera said she'll provide them," Meg said.
Paul let out a heavy breath. There was the sound of shuffling feet, as if he was pacing.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Meg said.
"Meg-"
"I said I'm fine," she insisted.
Paul said nothing, but Ed could tell he didn't believe her.
"Anyway," Meg said. "Viera didn't give me much details. Just that it's going to happen sometime within the week."
"When did she contact you?" Paul asked.
"Right after school," Meg said. "She was waiting for me at the gate."
"And she said nothing else?" Paul asked.
"No," Meg said. "I tried asking for more information, but she kept brushing off my questions," she said.
"That's annoying," Paul said.
Ed rolled his eyes.
There was another long moment of silence. Ed scanned the street, briefly considering grabbing a box to stand on. If he could peek inside, he'd get a better idea as to what was going on. But if he moved, he risked missing part of their conversation.
Best to stay put.
"So what are we going to do?" Paul asked.
"I don't know," Meg said. "It's not as if we can refuse."
"But if we go through with it, we will endanger ourselves and further aggravate the military," Paul said.
"I know."
"We could stall," Paul suggested.
"They're not going to tolerate that," she said.
"Didn't say we had to do it for long," Paul said. "Just a few days. Enough to buy some time."
"Buying time to do what?" she asked.
"I don't know."
They fell silent once more.
Ed leaned his head against the brick wall. These moments of silence were really starting to bother him. Meg and Paul could be whispering or retreating to an entirely different room and he had no way to know. It would be so much better if he could just see what was going on. He glanced around again, but found nothing that he could stand on. Maybe he could transmute something?
There was no one else in the alley. Ed crouched to the ground, listening for the sound of approaching footsteps. Carefully, he clapped his hands together and pressed them against the dirt. There was a flash of blue light and the ground hissed as it rose up to form a small step.
Ed looked around him.
Still no one.
Smiling, he stepped up and looked inside.
The window seemed to be situated above the kitchen sink. Lace curtains hung from a rod overhead, further obscuring Ed's presence. From this vantage point, he had a full view of both the kitchen and dining room. He could see Meg and Paul on the far side of the room. Meg was seated at a wooden table, her eyes focused on the floor. Paul was pacing across the length of the room.
After a few moments, Paul spoke again.
"We could run," he suggested.
Meg looked up. "What?"
"It'd be easy. We could steal a car and head for the desert. Once we're out of the northeast area we'll be free," he said.
"You can't be serious," Meg said.
"Well do you have any other ideas?" he said, pacing once more. "Think about it. We're the leader of the vandals. Without us, it's just a band of kids. The Wolves won't touch them."
"Do you even know how to drive?" Meg asked.
"Well, do you prefer the alternative?" Paul said. "Would you rather continue being the White Wolves' pawn? A slave to their plans? Stuck in the crosshairs of a conflict that isn't our own?"
"Don't say that," she said.
"It's true," he said. "Either way this goes, we'll be in great danger. Best to leave while we're still ahead."
Meg shook her head.
"I don't want to make any impulsive decisions and end up regretting it later," she said. "Besides, there's a few things I want to figure out first."
"Like what?" Paul asked.
"Well the timing of this seems to be too much of a coincidence," she said. "And in the past they've never cared about our methods, as long as we got the job done. So it's a bit weird that they would specify it now."
"You have a point," Paul said.
"At first I just thought that it's a part of their larger plan, but the more I think about it, the less it makes sense," Meg said.
Paul nodded, sitting down in the chair beside Meg.
"Bombs are extremely volatile and dangerous," he said. "Why entrust a group of kids to them? And if the mission is that important, why involve us at all?"
Meg leaned back in her chair.
"It does seem a bit peculiar," she said. "And over the past few days they have been assigning us increasingly uncharacteristic tasks."
"So then what changed?" Paul asked, looking at Meg.
"I don't know anything if that's what you're asking," she said. "Those thugs came after me the other day, but that was it."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yes," Meg said.
Paul opened his mouth to say something more, but then closed it, shaking his head.
"What is it?" she asked.
"It's nothing," he said.
"Paul, if there was ever time to speak your mind…"
"Well," he said. "What about that construction boy?"
Ed instantly ducked under the window, pressing his forehead against the brick wall. Paul couldn't have seen him, neither had even glanced at the window. Then how…
"What about him?" Meg asked.
"Robert saw you two together the day those thugs attacked you," Paul said.
"Have you been following me?" Meg asked.
"No," Paul said. "But my friend was attacked, so I kind of wanted to know what happened."
"We were hanging out," she said. "He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and accidentally got caught up in my mess. That was all."
"And his arm?"
"What about it?"
"It's made of metal," Paul said.
Ed's eyes went wide. How the hell did Paul know that?
Meg seemed to be wondering the same thing.
"How do you know?" she asked.
"I shoved him earlier," Paul said.
"You shoved him?"
"He wouldn't leave me alone," he said. "But that's besides the point, how do you know?"
Meg didn't answer.
There was a long moment of silence.
Ed forced himself to straighten his legs, peeking back through the window.
Meg was still seated at the table, but Paul had risen to his feet again. He was standing stock still, eyes focused on Meg.
Finally, Paul spoke.
"Is he with the military?" he asked.
Meg closed her eyes and turned her head away from him, before giving a slow nod.
Paul cursed loudly. He walked to the end of the room and back again. Over and over.
"Does anyone else know?" he asked.
"No," she said.
"Are you sure?" he said. "Because if the military is poking around, that complicates everything."
"Yes, I'm-"
But then she stopped, a horrified look spreading across her face.
"What?" Paul asked.
Meg clasped her hands over her mouth.
"What is it?" he asked again.
Meg looked up to him, a frightened look on her face.
"This morning," she said. "He came to me this morning."
"And?"
"He wanted to know about Viera," Meg said.
"Did you tell him anything?" Paul asked.
"I told him everything."
Paul cursed again.
"We were careful," Meg said. "I made sure no one was around."
"The Wolves have ears everywhere. They could've found out in other ways," Paul said.
"Like what?" Meg said.
"I don't know," Paul said.
"I'm sorry, but he was desperate. I thought if we were careful they would never find out," Meg said.
"But don't you think it's a bit of a coincidence," Paul said. "That the very day you give information to the military, we get ordered to do something incredibly uncharacteristic."
"You think they know?" Meg asked.
"Maybe. Maybe not," Paul said. "I saw him earlier this afternoon. So if the Wolves know, they have yet to do anything about it."
Ed swallowed the panic building within him. Paul did have a point. If the White Wolves had been listening in on their earlier conversation, they would know Ed's true identity. So then why hadn't they gotten rid of him? Was it possible the White Wolves weren't listening in?
That or they just hadn't made up their mind on whether or not to kill him.
"What do you think they'll do?" Meg asked.
"I don't know," he said. "For all I know they may be planning to kill us all."
"Don't say that," she said.
"It's possible," Paul said, sitting back down in his chair.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
"Meg," Paul said finally. "More than anyone else, you know how dangerous the White Wolves can be. So why take such a risk? Why would you help the military?"
"You wouldn't understand," Meg said.
"Try me."
Meg took a deep breath.
"Believe me when I say that I hadn't intended to help him. When I first found out his identity, I told myself that no matter how bad it got I would not help the military. But suddenly he was in danger and I just knew that I wouldn't be able to live with myself if he got hurt."
Paul furrowed his brow.
"So this isn't the first time you've helped him?" he asked.
"He ran into trouble with Viera a few days ago," Meg said. "I told his team where to find him."
Paul rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Meg continued. "When he came to me this morning, I was honestly going to send him away. I told him to leave. But he just seemed so desperate..."
Paul rubbed his eyes.
"Would you help him again?" he asked. "If he came to you?"
"I keep telling myself that I won't, but honestly." She looked up at him. "I probably wouldn't hesitate"
Paul let out a shaky breath.
He took a step forward to pace, but then he just stopped. He leaned against the wall. Eyes focused on Meg.
"You know," Meg said. "If you want to leave, I won't stop you."
"What-"
"I'm the one that started all of this," she continued. "You don't always have to stick by me. If you really want to leave, then leave."
Paul sat down in the chair next to her.
"You know I can't do that," he said.
"Why not?" she said. "I am perfectly capable of leading the group by myself."
"I know," Paul said. "But just because you can do something alone, doesn't mean you have to."
Meg looked away.
"I have to see this through," she said. "No matter how bad it gets. This is my mess. I can't just walk away from it."
"Alright," he said. "So we'll see it through. Together."
Meg shook her head.
"Paul-"
"I mean it," he said. "You shouldn't go through this alone."
They fell into silence once more.
"I'm sorry for putting you in this situation," Meg said.
"Don't be," Paul said.
"But I just don't know what to do next," Meg said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
Her entire frame began to shake. When the onslaught of tears seemed imminent, Paul rose and rounded the table. He grabbed a napkin and handed it to her, watching as she wiped the tears from her face. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and Meg leaned into it.
There was silence for a few long minutes: Meg stifling her tears into the napkin and Paul leaning against the table, a hard look on his face.
After a while, Meg's sobs began to taper off.
Paul looked at her contemplatively.
"How about this," he said. "We'll stall for the next few days. Finish the other orders for the Wolves first. We'll monitor the situation, try to find some answers, and see if anything escalates. Then we'll make a decision."
"Do we have any other option?" Meg asked.
Paul smiled and sat down again next to her.
"Not really," he said.
Meg looked down at the table.
Paul fidgeted with his hands, obviously wanting to change the subject.
"Do you know if…" he said awkwardly. "Do you know if the irises have bloomed yet?"
Meg smiled.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "They're a bit late this year."
"That's too bad," Paul said, flashing a smile. "They're my favorite flower, you know."
Meg playfully shoved him.
"You don't even know what they look like," she said.
"Want to make that bet?" Paul asked.
"Depends," Meg said. "What do I get when you lose?"
"How about the loser buys the winner a sweet from the bakery," Paul said.
"That sounds nice," Meg said, rising to her feet. "Hurry up so I can get my cake."
"I haven't lost yet," Paul said, following her out of the room.
Ed stepped away from the window. If they were coming outside, then he needed to leave.
Giving a cursory glance around him, he dropped into a crouch, brought his hands together, and transmuted the step back into the ground. He brushed his foot against the spot a few times, making sure to destroy any transmutation marks.
He heard the faint sound of laughter approaching from further down the alley. Ed quickly turned onto the street. He set a brisk pace and pulled his hat farther down. With luck, Meg and Paul wouldn't notice he was here.
The afternoon heat was finally starting to give way to cool evening winds. Ed wiped his forehead, grateful for the change in temperature. He pulled at his collar and rubbed his shoulder, longing for a cool shower. He was tempted to return to the inn immediately, protocol be damned. He could simply inform Mustang of the new developments later when the Colonel returned to the inn. They could just circulate the information among the team later tonight.
But as tempting as it was, he knew it wasn't a good idea.
Mustang was searching the town this evening and likely wouldn't return until dinner. With information this crucial, he needed to inform the others as soon as possible. Scowling, Ed started making his way over to the main square.
When he'd arrived, he shook himself, forcing his shoulders to relax. He changed his pace to a meandering stroll, slowly scanning the area.
Reed was sitting on a bench near the center fountain, a book propped open on his lap. Ed walked up to the water's edge, tossing a few coins into the fountain. He watched as the glittering metal drifted to the bottom of the pool, shimmering in the sunlight. With a nod, he circled back, propping his foot on the bench to tie his shoes.
"The meeting today was cancelled," Ed said in a low voice. The rush of water should be enough to drown out their conversation, but it never hurts to be careful. "I followed Paul to Meg's house. Apparently earlier today they were given orders to completely destroy the train station using explosives. They weren't given any more details besides it will take place in about a week."
"Really," Reed said.
"Yeah," Ed said. "But some things aren't adding up. The vandals are just a group of kids. Why trust them with something so important? It makes no sense."
"Just because we don't clearly see a motive doesn't mean that there isn't one," Reed said.
"Well initially I thought that maybe the White Wolves had found out about my conversation with Meg. But if they knew about that, then they would also know my true identity. And if they knew that, well we wouldn't be having this conversation now would we."
"I agree," Reed said. "It's more likely that the group doesn't know we're here at all. If they did, they would've dealt with us immediately."
"That's what I was thinking," Ed said. "But unfortunately... well... long story short, Paul also found out I'm with the military. Meg seemed determined to keep it a secret though, so I don't think he'll rat us out yet. But it's only a matter of time before more people find out."
Ed glanced over at Reed, bracing himself for a lecture. However, the man only nodded.
"We'll have to be even more careful from now on," Reed said. He changed the subject. "So how did Paul and Meg react to the new orders?"
"They were spooked," Ed said, looking back at his shoe. "They both agreed that it's incredibly dangerous, but ultimately they know they can't refuse."
"So what are they planning?" Reed asked.
"They're going to stall for a few days. See if the situation improves. Paul even suggested a hack job plan of running away to the desert," Ed said. He realized that he had untied and retied his shoelaces three times. Feeling his ears warm, he switched his feet and began to untie the other shoe.
"Think they'll do it?"
"Meg refused. She seemed determined to see this through. It doesn't seem like she wants anyone else to get hurt," Ed said. He stood on one foot and pretended to knock a pebble out of his shoe. "In fact, she even said that she probably wouldn't hesitate to help us again, if the need came for it."
"Did she now," Reed said.
"Yeah," Ed said. "But I rather not ask for her help again."
"You may need to," Reed said.
"I'm putting her in danger," Ed said, slipping his shoe back on.
"She's already in danger," Reed said.
"Doesn't mean I get the right to make it worse," Ed said, tying his shoelaces.
Reed was silent for a moment.
"Think of it this way: Meg has been a vital source of intelligence. Without her we wouldn't know half of what we do now. Every bit of information we uncover gets us one step closer to defeating the White Wolves," Reed said.
"But at what cost?" Ed asked.
"In circumstances like these, the cost seldom matters," Reed said.
"So the ends justify the means?"
"Exactly."
Ed pursed his lips.
"I never agreed with that," he said.
Reed shook his head.
"This might sound harsh," Reed said. "But it really doesn't matter what your personal beliefs are. The mission must succeed."
Ed clenched his hands. His mind wandered back to his earlier conversation with Mustang.
"But it's wrong," he said.
"I know," Reed replied.
Reed looked down at the book in his lap for a moment longer before closing it and sliding it over to Ed.
"Try not to stress too much," Reed said, rising to his feet. "I have the feeling that this will all be over sooner than you think."
With that, Reed turned and walked away.
Ed watched him leave. He lowered himself on the bench, very much confused. During their previous meetings, Reed had rarely been the first to leave. Intrigued by this slight break of protocol, Ed pulled the book towards him and began flipping through the pages. Had Reed left him a message or something?
Wait a minute.
This was his book. Ed studied the simple leather cover. From a passing glance, the book appeared to be a scientific publication, but the later chapters delved deeply into the elements and their alchemical properties. It was the very book he had accidentally left in Reed's room the first day of the mission.
Ed had completely forgotten about it.
He leaned backwards, his eyebrows knitting together. The book was exactly how he had left it. His annotations were still scrawled in the margins and there was still water damage on the back pages, but nothing else was amiss. If Reed had left him a message, it sure wasn't obvious.
So Reed had just wanted to return the book.
Though it was a bit weird, Ed thought that Reed had waited until now of all times to return it; especially since he had never asked to borrow the book in the first place. However any concern Ed had was quickly brushed away. Personally Ed had lost track of how many books he'd swiped from various places only to return weeks later and hope it's absence hadn't been missed. If it wasn't for their near constant travel, Ed was sure he'd have a mountain of overdue library fees.
Plus, the team had to jump through hoops everyday just to keep everyone properly briefed. It wasn't as if they had free time to discuss literature. Therefore it was perfectly understandable why Reed had neglected to return it until now.
Though it was still mildly curious that Reed had chosen to read this book at all. Surely it had no practical use to a non alchemist.
Ed shrugged.
Maybe something about the book had intrigued him.
Author's Note:
Fun Fact:
The placements of Ukon, Heinsworth, and Parktown are all based on the official Amestris map. However at the time I was naming the towns, my computer had an update and I was unable to zoom in for a while. Turns out Ukon was based on the location of Liore. I also mistook a lot of roads for railroads. Whoops.