Chapter Two
"These accommodations are..." Roy trailed off, looking around the little room with its peeling wallpaper and layers of mold in the corners of the ceiling and flooring. He grimaced.
"Frightening. Well, we are on a recon mission in a border town," Maes said, wiping his glasses as if that would make the room look less dingy. "Who set up this missing?"
"Gran, but you know he didn't make arrangements for anything." Roy set his duffle on the twin bed nearest the window and glanced back at Maes, thinking his friend looked wrong out of his military blues. None of them had worn uniforms on since leaving Central since it didn't pay to advertise when one was checking the safety of the border. At least Drachma, just to the north, had a peace agreement with them. Roy jumped back, seeing a bug scuttling across the floor. His mind leapt back to growing up in Satie in that rotting house of his father's. "Damn, that thing was big enough to carry us off."
"Well, your little body at any rate." Maes smirked, glancing up from his unpacking.
"Screw you." Roy sat on the sagging bed. "At least when I'm fitting comfortably on this sad bed, your legs will be hanging over the footboard of yours." He gestured at the barely painted iron footboard.
Maes made a face. "As if sharing a room isn't bad enough, I get stuck with you."
"You're my best friend," Roy pointed out, opening his duffle to dig out the toiletries. He needed to wash up after the long train ride. "How did that happen?"
"I ask myself that daily. When do we get started?" Maes stretched, his eyelids looking heavy behind his glasses.
"Not until dawn. We should get some sleep. Damn, I'm the commander. I should at least get the single room," Roy groused.
"You're the one who brought a female officer along. So long as it's not in the field, you know the rules, no sharing rooms with them. This dump only had three open rooms, as frightening as that is. Don't bitch. You could be stuck with Dinwiddie instead, having to hear him doing all those calisthenics that he loves."
"No, instead I'll get to hear all about your new girlfriend all night long." Roy grabbed up his toiletry bag, wondering what condition the communal bathroom was in.
"Gracia's a great gal." Maes beamed then it faded fast. "But I thought we'd talk about your new girlfriend."
Roy's lips pinched. "I don't have one."
"Like hell. I know you well enough to know that look," Maes said, his eyes dark behind his glasses, his voice taut.
"Well, I'll give you time to work on the lecture. I need a shower." Roy muscled past his friend.
Maes let him go. Roy hiked down the poorly lit hallway to the communal bathroom. It was empty. He locked the door and reluctantly stripped. He rooted past the raw chemicals in his kit, basic stuff that he kept in case he needed to do other alchemy other than fire. He found the special soap Jenna made for him. Care packages from the Ravensdale wouldn't be complete with out herb ridden, goats' milk soap.
Roy didn't want to put his feet in the rust-stained tin tub. The shower head spat orange water on him. Everything about this place reminded Roy of home; the cold water, the mildew like ribbons along the tub, the cracked tiling. He expected his father to yank open the curtain and try to sell him to a brothel again. He didn't even know if the elder Mustang was still alive and more importantly didn't care.
Roy had no intentions of dallying in the shower but when spider dropped down from the ceiling on a web, he quit the shower in a hurry. The floor mat squished under foot and he shoved his feet into his shoes while still wet just to get off the floor. He dried off, his wet hair sticking up at odd angles. Roy didn't even bother pulling his shirt back on. He just wanted out of the dank hotel bathroom. He startled when he opened the door and Hawkeye was standing there.
She jumped back. "Sorry, sir. I was just about to knock." Her eyes descending momentarily to his bare chest then snapped back up.
"It's really rather...miserable." He pressed his towel to his chest. "I do apologize."
"No one promised our jobs would be easy, sir," Hawkeye replied, in an all business tone.
Roy nodded. "There's a huge spider in the shower, just so you know."
Hawkeye shuddered. "Lovely."
"Quick, too. Missed killing him," Roy said, even though he hadn't tried. Retreat had seemed a better option when faced with the eight legged menace, especially when it was nearly as big as his hand.
"I hate spiders," she grumbled.
"The water's already cold, or maybe it was never hot." Roy sighed. "Sorry. Good night, Lieutenant."
She sighed as well. "Good night, sir."
Roy started back down the hall to his awaiting lecture. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Hawkeye studying his back. He grinned when she blushed at getting caught and ducked into the bathroom. Oh yes, she's interested...and that's not a good thing. Damn it. Roy understood the importance of the no fraternization rule. It was there to keep unscrupulous people from abusing those below them but it wasn't just inconvenient sometimes. Sometimes it downright hurt, like now.
Roy went back into his room and saw Maes was already trying to curl up in his little bed. His knives hung from their leather sheaths from the knob on the end table. He hoped Maes had already nodded off but the squinting eyes said otherwise. Maes fumbled for his glasses, settling them back on his long nose. Roy pointedly said nothing, setting down his stuff, then peeling back the thin, dingy bedding. At least it looked relatively clean. He crawled into bed and tried to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Roy?" Maes' tone had the expected bite. Roy was hoping his friend would have changed his mind about having this conversation but apparently not.
"Nothing," Roy mumbled, wondering if he rolled over and faced the window Maes would take the hint and not hector him about Riza.
"It didn't look like nothing today on the train."
"I just wanted to talk to Hawkeye. She seemed left out," Roy said, knowing there was nothing he could really do shy of ordering Maes to shut up to avoid this and he respected his friend too much for that. He knew Maes only had his best interests at heart. Besides Hughes would ignore the order anyhow.
"Roy, you can't afford to get involved with this woman. There're more than enough women out there for you to pass on Hawkeye." Maes rolled up onto his elbow, looking across the room at Roy.
Roy huddled up on his side, not really looking at Maes. "It's not like that, Maes. I know better. I know exactly what you're talking about. I'm not looking to start up a sexual relationship with Riza."
"You're calling her by her first name," Maes pointed out.
Roy tossed an arm over his eyes. "Talk to me about Gracia, Maes."
"I'm not that easily distracted, Roy." Maes sounded utterly irritated as the bed groaned and rattled as he shifted his weight on it.
"You remember telling me how it felt when you first met Gracia, like you were gliding right over the edge," Roy muttered.
"And you laughed at me and said I was a romantic fool. What does that have to do...oh." Maes sat up, swinging his long legs off his bed.
Roy let his arm drop. "I'm in free fall and it's really going to hurt when I hit."
Hughes leaned forward, hands on his knees. "How did this happen?"
Roy wouldn't look at him. He concentrated on a patch of mildew near the ceiling. "Like I know. I've never felt like this and you'd know it would be the one woman in the world I can't...this isn't fair," Roy growled.
"Well...you'll think of something," Maes said, doubtfully.
Roy snorted bitterly. "Maybe I'll get lucky and the mission will chew me up and I won't have to worry about it."
"Do we need to have another conversation about the suicidal talk, Roy?" Maes' voice went gruff. He stood up and took a step closer to Roy who held up a staying hand.
Roy just shook his head. He wasn't going to put his friend through that pain again. "I'm good, just talking stupid."
"Anyone who believes that, stand on their heads," Maes muttered, having been through enough bad moments in the last year to buy into Roy's line of garbage. He knew just how torn up on the inside Mustang still was. "You do something foolish out there, Roy, and live, I'll kick your ass all the way back to Central."
Roy smiled in spite of himself. "Thanks, Maes."
Maes laid back down on his dilapidated bed. "So, how discreet do you think you can be?"
"If I have any plans of acting on this feeling, more discreet than I've ever been in my life." Roy turned toward the window just in case Maes could see the fear in his face.
X X X
A coffin, my room is a coffin, Riza swore she could reach out and touch any of the four walls from her bed. On one hand there would be no other soldier snoring in her ear, but on the other the place was making her claustrophobic. To top it all off, not only was the bathroom as disgusting as Mustang had said, he had caught her checking out his butt. How, embarrassing and what was worse, she was laying here, thinking about the tight, tiny thing.
He's too skinny. You don't like rib-racks. Various body parts weren't listening to her brain, feeling swollen and warm at the memory of him. Deciding he wasn't her type didn't help, nor did thoughts of his arrogance or his rank. This was insane. She was not about to ruin her career over one exotic slip of a man. When they got back to Central, she'd request a transfer. That would take care of that.
Riza rolled onto her side and covered her head. Sounds of snoring from next door seemed to rattle her little room. So much for no soldier snoring in her ear. She was never going to sleep with that going on, not to mention the chaos in her head. Maybe she should just get up and pass the hours until dawn, cleaning her weapons or something. Instead her mind drifted back to that egotistical little smile he had shot her over his shoulder. She was going to need another cold, spider-infested shower if her traitorous body didn't shape up. Giving up fighting it, Riza grunted at herself and slid her hand down under the covers and below the waist line.
X X X
"Are you sure that's what you want?" Womack looked at the tall woman before him.
She pushed back her long hair from her face. "Let's just say that's the way it has to be."
His pale eyes narrowed, unsure why someone from Amestris' military would want to help him. "So what do you care about Drachmaian supremacy? It's your people we want to conquer. Why on earth would you help us?"
"Oh, this has nothing to do with your little faction's quest, Womack, and everything to do with being fair. Your target has betrayed us but if we take him out, there'll be questions we don't want to answer. If he gets killed here, there won't be any questions. He died in the line of duty. Besides, he knows things that will help your faction, and I don't care if you learn about them," she replied. "Feel free to torture it out of him."
Womack's thin lips twisted. "Sounds good to me but I still don't trust you."
"I don't expect you to, just do your job and we'll all be happy."
She watched the Drachmaian rebel leave, clutching the photo of his target. Regiene shook her head. What an idiot but at least the fool would serve a purpose. Anyone who believed his enemy would help him to attack them deserved whatever he got. His little faction had no prayer since not only would the military crush them, Drachma itself was content with its cease fire with Amestris and was enjoying the trade. Drachma would put down the rebels themselves. So long as they took out the target, she didn't care what happened to them.
She picked up the phone, and absently gave her silver pocket watch a polishing while she waited to be connected. "General, it's Cerulean. It's all set up. They'll be waiting for the target near the canyon. What about the collateral damage? Oh, I'm sure killing them all will prove to be no problem for this crew. I'll head back for Central immediately, sir, unless you want me to remain and take care of the rebels...oh, good, glad to hear it, sir. I have no love for this back water. I'll be on the next train."
X X X
"So what are we looking for, Colonel, sir?" Swackhammer looked over the back of the car seat at Mustang who sat in the back with Hughes. Poor Hawkeye was sandwiched in between them, stuck on the hump.
Mustang didn't know who had arranged this mission but they were going to regret this poor planning when he got back to Central. They could have at least reserved a truck. "Signs that someone is using these canyons to run contraband between Amestris and Drachma. There have been reports of it and it threatens the peace."
"I think we might have to get out and look around, sir. It's hard to see subtle signs from the car," Dinwiddie offered as he drove on, downshifting as the grade of the hill worsened.
"I know. We're in completely the wrong vehicle for this," Mustang grumbled. "We need to get off road."
"Lovely, a hike," Hughes sighed. "I'm still wondering why we were selected for this duty."
"It does seem odd," Mustang agreed, wishing he could think of something besides the heat of Hawkeye's thigh against his as they were crushed into the back seat.
"How so, sir?" Hawkeye asked.
"This is not my usual duty," Roy replied, peering out the window at the frosted ground. It was going to be cold and miserable looking around out there for clues. "I don't usually..."
The whine of artillery cut the early morning air and all any of them were aware of was the car rolling, whirling like a child's toy off the road and cutting a swatch down the embankment. Roy cried out as Hawkeye and Hughes' weight slammed him into the side of the car. Fire licked inside him as his breath tore away and then he was falling on top of his companions as the car went over again.
Moans filled the car as it finally came to rest on all four wheels. Mustang managed to get the door open and slipped outside. He helped Hawkeye out. Hughes bailed out the other side. Roy touched Hawkeye's head. She had a cut above her eye, blood pouring freely. Head wounds bled so much.
"You okay?" he managed to rasp out, pulling a glove out of his civilian pant's pocket. He might be out of uniform but he still had his weapons. She nodded, feeling for her guns. Roy peeked inside. Dinwiddie had a few inches of steering wheel inside his chest. There was no sense in checking if he was alive. Swackhammer hadn't faired much better but Hughes was pulling him out of the car. Roy smelled the smoke and tried to lead Hawkeye away before the car went up.
Gun shots whistled and the frosted grass parted near Roy's foot. He jumped back, dragging Riza with him behind the tree line.
"Who's shooting?" She tried to wipe the blood from her eye.
"There." Roy nodded toward the road. Three damn trucks, his men were screwed. He had no idea who these insurgents were, probably the contraband runners. He and his men were seriously out gunned and out manned, with one exception. He'd bet they had no idea what he was. Roy's eyes narrowed, hearing a scream through the hail of gun fire.
Swackhammer fell away from Hughes. The major didn't hesitate, apparently knowing the man was dead. Hughes sprinted for cover. Roy bellowed wordlessly, stepping out from behind his cover when Hughes went down. He could hear his friend's moans of pain and had no idea how badly Maes was hurt. Roy eyed the trucks and the men between the wreck of their vehicle and those trucks. He snapped his fingers.
The heat of his alchemy felt even more intense in the cold morning. Fog rose off the grass as the air above it oxidized. Two of the trucks caught fire. Roy heard Hawkeye gasp and realized she had never seen what he could do.
"Shoot the damn alchemist then secure our target!" one of their attackers screamed.
Hawkeye's guns barked in Roy's ears as more bullets came his way. Something felt hot but he ignored it, snapping his fingers again but he couldn't cut Hughes off from their attackers, not without hurting his friend. There were still too many of the enemy for Hawkeye's guns to get them all and those his flames didn't get had a lot more ammo than he and Hawkeye had. They had the soldiers pinned down and all Roy could do was watch them drag Hughes into the remaining truck.
"Sir, we have to get to better cover," Hawkeye said, pulling on his arm.
He moved, following her deeper into the woods, knowing their attackers hadn't all gotten back into the truck. Until he and Hawkeye turned the tables, they were prey at least. He had to get one of them alive. He had to find out where they had taken his friend. "Give me one of your guns," he said to her.
Hawkeye paused and stooped, pulling a yet unused one from an ankle holster. She kept the two bigger ones for herself. They continued moving, keeping parallel with the road. Hawkeye said nothing but Roy knew she had to be hurting because he was. Maybe something had been broken in the car accident. Suddenly Hawkeye whipped around and Roy followed suit. Their attackers had caught up with them. Hawkeye killed one instantly.
"We need them alive, Lieutenant," Mustang barked, shooting one in the leg.
Hawkeye did the same then looked to Mustang to see what was next.
Mustang handed her back the gun and put his fingers together. "Now you two are going to tell me where you took my friend or you'll find out just why they call me Flame."
"Go to hell, freak," one of them growled and shot his wounded partner. He turned his gun on himself before Roy could stop him.
"Son of a bitch!" Roy kicked the man's corpse.
"Sir, you need to sit," Hawkeye said.
"There's no time for that. They have Hughes," Roy growled, looking at the two men. He noticed they both had badges on their shirts, a white shield with ten red stars. He'd never seen the like before but he knew a device to show fellowship when he saw it.
"Sir, I think you were shot," Hawkeye pointed to the bloody furrow along his side.
The heat he had felt, Roy mused, lifting his sticky shirt. The wound didn't hurt all that much.
Hawkeye forced him down then knelt at his side. "It's not deep, barely a scratch."
"Doesn't hurt much. Bind it up the best you can, Lieutenant and I'll see to that cut on your head," Roy said, hating to waste the time but what was there to do for it?
"Who were they, sir?"
"I have no idea, Hawkeye, but I'm going to find out and make sure they regret this," Roy said through gritted teeth.