Chapter Three

After he finally came to, Hughes didn't know where he was for several long moments. Everything hurt. He felt like one big bruise. He couldn't feel his hands and only wished he could say the same thing about his leg. It felt like Mustang had worked alchemy on it, fire licking from mid-thigh to knee.

He tried to focus on where he was but his glasses were either missing or taken. Hughes cursed his poor eyes. He concentrated for a moment and heard breathing. He wasn't alone. Hughes scanned around and picked out a largest blob. He squinted, trying to bring the person into focus and failing.

"What am I doing here?" He figured he'd get a better shot at an answer with that than with 'who are you?'

"All in due time," the blob said, doing something Hughes couldn't see but he heard the clink of metal on metal.

"I'd appreciate being untied," Hughes said, giving the bonds at his wrists an experimental tug.

The blob laughed. "I'm sure you would, traitor."

"Traitor?" Hughes couldn't help but blurt that out. He had no idea what was going on but it was taking a turn for the worse. "I don't even know who you are. How could I betray you?"

"Not me. Your own people turned you over for crimes against them and the good kingdom of Drachma."

"I think you have the wrong man. I'm not a criminal and neither were any of my companions," Hughes said, trying to keep his voice even. He didn't want to let on how much pain he was in nor how worried he was about Mustang and Hawkeye. At least Mustang might have gotten away from these kidnappers who surely had to have mistaken him for the lieutenant colonel, though he wasn't sure why.

"That's not what we've been told."

"By whom?" Hughes shifted his weight then hissed as the pain in his leg blossomed into full blown agony. The bullet had to have taken a good bite out of him.

"It's nothing you need to worry about." The blob loomed close enough for Hughes to see it was a dark-haired man. "Your precious military is done with you and now you'll tell me everything you know about the plans to raid Drachma."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Hughes licked his lips. This man knew he was military but how? Hughes realized in a sickening flash that he had been set up. "I'm not military."

Blob laughed again. "Of course you're not and you know nothing about plans to invade Drachma."

"I really don't," Hughes replied quite truthfully.

"Well, let's pretend I don't believe you and then you can have some time to rethink your answers. I have a little persuasion I think you might like." The man set something down close enough Hughes could make it out.

He stared at the car battery and everything inside him went to ice.

X X X

"Rest, Hawkeye. You probably have a concussion," Roy said, feeling more than merely terrible after the short but strenuous hike from the crash site to town. He was going to hold a grudge against hills for some time.

"Lieutenant Colonel, sir, I'll be fine," Hawkeye said, standing next to the door to their new hotel room.

Roy eyed her sourly. She looked anything but fine, pale and bloody. He had gotten into their old rooms unseen, changed his clothes and gathered up some changes of clothing for him and her along with some money and their toiletry kits since his had chemicals for alchemy if he needed it. He wanted those rooms to lay fallow; let the men who took Hughes think he and Hawkeye died in the woods. Roy had found them a slightly more upscale hotel room while Hawkeye patrolled outside the place, since her wounds were still uncleaned and her clothing bloody and he didn't want to explain how that had happened to some hotel clerk. "Then go wash up."

"Sir, shouldn't we be-"

"Yes, we should be looking for Hughes but we'll get nowhere looking like this. Or worse, if we contract a fever or an infection we'll be good to no one. Clean up. I'll call Central to let them know we came under attack and request back up," Mustang said, distaste for the odious task plain on his delicately-planed face.

Hawkeye nodded, looking suddenly weary. She put all three of her guns on the solitary bed and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. Roy placed the call. As he waited to be connected, he tried not to think about what might be happening to his friend. His eyes roamed around the room. It was far cosier than their purposes required but it was small and out of the way, a place where lovers met, clean, sweet. It was the sort of place he would have loved to have met Hawkeye in if they were anyone but who they were, in the circumstances they were under. A voice rumbled hello on the other end of the line.

"General Gran, sir, it's Mustang. We were ambushed. Dinwiddie and Swackhammer are gone. Hughes has been taken captive by unknown aggressors and I believe he was shot," Mustang reported, keeping his voice from hitching as he said that. He wouldn't allow his emotions to betray him.

"Are you or Hawkeye injured, Mustang?" Gran grumbled.

"No, sir. Hawkeye and I are banged up but nothing serious." Mustang touched the crease in his side. "I was winged by a bullet but I'll be fine."

"And you have no idea who did this?" Gran roared.

Roy held the phone away from his ear. He hated Gran and for all his loud 'concern,' Roy knew Gran didn't give a damn about him or his men. Ever since Ishbal, Gran had treated him with nothing but disdain and maybe he even deserved it. "No, sir and I'm not sure why they would take Hughes."

"They must have mistook him as the commander."

"I don't..." Roy trailed off, a nervous tickle in his belly. They hadn't been in uniform. If someone knew they were military, then they had been betrayed. He had no idea if it was by someone on his team or someone in Central. It wasn't good to tip off Gran or whoever might be listening on the line to his suspicions. "You're probably right, sir."

"Do you have any hope that Major Hughes is still alive, Mustang?"

"Yes, sir, I do. They killed Swackhammer and came after Hawkeye and I. They took care to take Hughes with them when they could have gunned him down. They mentioned a target. I'm fairly sure they wanted Hughes alive. I may need help in extricating him, sir," Roy said.

"I'll have help on the way but I may be forced to send soldiers from Central. There are no free troops in your area," Gran said, sounding suddenly slippery.

"Understood sir," Roy replied tightly, not sure he did. It sounded almost punitive to him but he couldn't say that to a superior officer "I'll be in contact."

"Where do I call you, Mustang, if I need to?" Gran asked.

"It's not safe yet to give out that number, sir. We may have to stay in the wind. I'll keep contact the best I can," Mustang replied.

"Do your best, Mustang, to not create an incident with the Drachmaians over this. I regret to say it but Major Hughes is expendable under those circumstances. We need to keep the peace." Gran didn't sound too regretful to Mustang.

Roy hated hearing it but he knew it was also true. They couldn't risk the tenuous peace with the Drachmaians. Though Amestris didn't seem to be good at keeping the peace. He and Hawkeye would have to be very careful because he'd be damned if he was leaving Hughes behind. "Understood, sir."

Roy hung up and mentally shook off the slime of talking to Gran. He sat on the bed and picked up Riza's gun. He unloaded the other two guns. When Hawkeye came out of the bathroom, he pointed the pistol at her, cocking back the hammer.

Hawkeye froze instantly, her face going even paler than it had been. The freshly formed bruises stood out starkly. "Sir?"

"You and I need to have a little chat," he said, tightly, aiming for her face.

"Is that necessary?" Hawkeye went to wave at the gun but hitched seeing Roy tensing, his finger on the trigger.

"I've two men dead, one kidnapped and it very likely was an inside job. So, yes for right now I say it is necessary, especially since I don't know enough about you by half. I've seen what you can do with a gun and on the off chance that these three aren't all your guns, you'll have to forgive me if we talk like this, Lieutenant. Now, tell me your movements last night," Mustang demanded, the gun never wavering from her head.

Hawkeye licked her lips, but otherwise didn't seem too nervous. "I have no one who can vouch for my movements, sir, after you yourself saw me go into the shower. Before then, I simply took out what I needed for the night from my rucksack, cleaned my guns then showered, sir. I didn't sleep well. Either Dinwiddie or Swackhammer were snoring. I could hear them through the wall so I had to pass several hours not sleeping."

"And you filled those hours how?" Mustang demanded to know and had to wonder what caused her to blush so violently.

"Reading, sir. It has occurred to me, as it obviously has to you, that we weren't in uniform today when we were attacked. I made no calls nor left the hotel last night. I had no opportunity to betray our position. I didn't even know the route we'd take or the vehicle we'd be in."

Roy eased down the hammer and put the gun aside. "Good point. That leaves our betrayer either dead by the car, betrayed by their own compatriots, or we were set up before we ever left Central."

"By whom, sir?" Hawkeye relaxed a little with the gun no longer trained on her.

"No idea. Gran sent us but there could be any number of breaks in the chain between him and us. Of course, it could be a case of mistaken identity but I find that highly unlikely," Roy said. "But why take Hughes and not me?"

"They wouldn't likely mistake you two," Hawkeye said, inching toward the overstuffed chair near the window. Roy waved her on and she sat down wearily. "They might have only known to go for the commander and Hughes is the oldest. They might have just assumed..." Hawkeye trailed off with a blush. "Not that you look..."

"I'm well aware I look young, Lieutenant. I am young." Roy ran a hand through his hair then winced as his side pulled.

"I should look at that wound now that I have something to clean it up with, sir," Hawkeye said, dragging back to her feet.

Roy nodded listlessly, pulling off his shirt. "We get sent on a mission to an isolated hunk of mountainous terrain outside of town, a place easy to have someone lying in wait for us. That can not be by accident."

Hawkeye went to the bathroom and wet a towel then started to cleanse off the wound better. The bullet had cut a shallow rut in his side from just left of his navel up to the lower jutting edge of his ribs. "I wouldn't imagine so. How are we going to find Major Hughes, sir?"

"Cautiously. There have been reports of insurgents in this area that don't like the peace between our countries. It could have been them. It could have been something else entirely. Our only clue is that emblem those men had. I've been instructed to leave Hughes behind if it looks like it could cause a diplomatic incident," Roy said bitterly, scrunching the bedspread up under his hands.

Hawkeye's eyes came up sharply. "Sir?"

"I have no intentions of leaving him." Roy winced as she touched a sensitive spot. His side looked like he had been splashed with violet paint. "I don't leave my men behind."

"He's more than one of your men, if you don't mind me saying. He's obviously your friend," Hawkeye remarked as she opened the med-kit he had salvaged from their room. She started bandaging him up.

"Yes, he is, the best one I've ever had, and with just the two of us, I'll trust we can be discreet in our search for him," Roy said.

"I'll settle for not giving you cause to point a weapon at me again, sir, not that you really needed it," Hawkeye mumbled.

"I couldn't be sure of that," he replied, keeping to himself he still wasn't sure. She could be a very good actress.

"No, what I meant was...how did you do that today?" She sat back, her eyes big and limpid as freshly brewed tea.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. The lines of her face were captivating. He fought to cling to his good judgement and ignore how she made him feel inside. "You know they call me the Flame Alchemist."

She nodded. "I just never gave it much thought I suppose. This is what you did in Ish-"

"No!" Mustang snapped, pulling away from her. It sounded as if she did know and was testing him to see what he was capable of doing. "I don't like talking about that time."

"Sorry, sir." A stunned expression slapped itself on her face.

Roy sighed. "It's all right. You didn't know. I can transmute the air, make it combust. I just need a spark. My gloves are specially made for that purpose. You're right. I don't need a gun. Then again, I don't want to burn this place down with me inside so a gun seemed more reasonable."

Hawkeye nodded again. "All right, sir. That should help." She taped off the bandage. "Now what?"

"Now we go out and make some discreet inquires." Roy tried to get up and slumped back down. "Just give me a few minutes to catch my breath." He hated himself for saying it. He didn't know how much time Hughes had but his body was already pushed to the limits. Hawkeye didn't look much better. Surely a few moments to recoup wouldn't be fatal.

TBC