A seemingly accidental shot gets Riza in trouble.

A Shot In The Dark I

With her front pressed to a sandbag and her eyes trained forward, she lied in waiting. It was silent – by far too silent for the middle of a road. Behind their own lines, no one dared to speak. Not even cough, as if a symphony of foreboding bloodshed was due any second.

A voice was heard, making most of the soldiers wince in dreadful anticipation. They relaxed again upon realising it had come from the enemy lines. Someone was asking questions, another giving orders that travelled along the clumsy barricade of crates, tables, chairs and even cars. The rebels might have been amateurs, but they had taken down an entire division by themselves. A prepared division.

The moment of surprise was over – the military had taken position with a barricade of their own dead ahead.

The dead was what Riza feared, no matter the side.

The military calmed to some extent. Chats became audible, murmured speculations and comments being uttered. Hardly any of the men had ever been to the front lines, and there were but two soldiers who had been to war. One of them was her. It was almost infuriating how inexperienced their platoon was – those who had to have her back. And as far as she knew, there were no other infantries coming to cut the rebels off either.

Another thing she knew – something that made her infinitely more tense – was the absence of snipers. Had there been any, she would not have been half-kneeling, half-lying on the dew-moist cobblestone and a dusty sandbag. Whether their targets had snipers, they couldn't tell.

Still, despite the absence of watchful eyes on them, Riza could feel a certain gaze burn into her from the side. She was nowhere near keen on glancing back.

She had not known him for very long. She would not have known him at all were it not for Eastern Headquarter gossip and Havoc's fondness for it. He was a three-day stubbled twenty-nine-year-old; young for a First Lieutenant like her. Just not as young as her. One of the many things he was 'falling behind' with when it came to what she labelled as self-imposed, unnecessary goals.

She had apparently beaten him in the annual training competitions, both in shooting as well as running. She never saw it as a competition but rather as an exercise; an evaluation of one's own strengths and weaknesses. That, and a chance to reflect well on her Colonel.

She was also a tad more over-punctual than the young First Lieutenant, and her reports were often more substantially detailed than his.

Riza never cared for anyone's praise unless it was that of her direct superior. Neither did she spare a glance at the records or contest results. She wouldn't even have known his face or name had it not been for his outburst as Havoc had gleefully retold.

Right now, that man was glaring at her from the side as if there was no common enemy they needed to focus on.

"Quiet down," Roy raised his voice over the whispers from behind, "and don't move a single muscle until I say so – we're not aiming to provoke them," he ordered. A few awkward 'Yes, Sir's came from here and there, unsure whether to confirm or stay silent as per his words. Riza suppressed a sigh. Working with amateurs was not so much annoying as it was bloody dangerous.

The remarks picked back up though. Riza glanced up to where her superior was standing in front of them, right behind the first row of sandbags. He was too focused on their opponents to throw a tantrum, and he was already upset with the higher ups who had given him the insufficiently qualified division. Holding her tongue and staying focused would be the best she could currently do for him, so doing it she would.

Tsk, it came from the side. Riza ignored it. In fact, she blanked it out altogether until there was another click of his tongue, this time clearly aimed at her. It was pathetic, really. Like being picked on – years after – by a former clique leader who was envious that Riza had taken the most popular guy at school to prom. Not that she had ever done anything relatable, but she was sure this was what it would have felt like.

Only this was not school. And the man had a loaded gun.

"Boot-licker," he sneered. She pretended that she had not heard. The sand rustled where he moved around on purpose. Her eyes did not stray from the slit through which she could see the barricade. Someone moved behind it, but was gone the next moment. "Colonel's pet," Windecker mocked further.

"Shut it," Roy hissed from in front of them. He could not have understood what had been said, and he did not turn once to check who it was. He was busy showing the top brass that he could lead any man, no matter how incapable, into the battlefield and return victorious.

A moment of silence passed, then the rustling began anew.

"Hey, Hawkeye," Windecker hissed. "Is it true you went on a solo mission with your boss last week?" he asked quietly. Not quietly enough, because another solider snickered at the implication. One of his desk buddies for sure. Riza kept on focusing forward, something that became indefinitely harder with nothing so much as twitching on the other side. Not to mention the pest in her ear. "Bet you slept your way up," Windecker provoked. "Wasn't Grumman your superior before? Oh, wait, that wouldn't change anything, right?" he went on jeeringly, only hushing when Roy growled over his shoulder.

Something stirred behind the barricade. Riza's heart drummed a little faster. Her eyes stared ahead as if alight. The mention of her sleeping with her superior officer did not help her concentrate in the slightest. It was not the first time she had been accused of it of course, but anyone who knew her was well aware of how she had earned her rank through nothing but merit.

That did not exclude the fact that she had indeed made love with Roy on numerous occasions, but he did not promote her for it.

"Not even trying to defend yourself? Why doesn't that surprise me?" Windecker went on, breaking her focus. Roy never did; she was the perfect soldier in his presence. Only he had never been there when she had been denounced of sleeping with him, and right now, for the first time, it was so very possible to steal a glance at his back; at those broad shoulders she would scrape down with her nails while he—

Riza swallowed, keeping from shaking the images from her mind. How unprofessional, she reprimanded herself. She knew that if Roy had known – and not been busy proving himself in the face of danger – he would have been more than delighted with her mental cinema.

"I bet he only hired you 'cause—" Windecker was interrupted by a nudge from the side, making him aware of the Colonel's death glare. He shrunk, awkwardly clearing his throat. Roy's eyes wandered briefly through the few rows of soldiers, eventually halting on his First Lieutenant. When she felt it linger, she looked up. Keep them in check, he seemed to tell her, I'm counting on you.

She nodded her understanding.

"We'll talk later," he grumbled, turning to peer at the rebels' barricade again. Riza was certain he had not meant her – they did not need words to communicate. Windecker and his teammate seemed to think otherwise, snickering.

"How does it feel?" he asked, eyes sparking up with glee. How not rolling her eyes was even harder than focusing was a mystery; one she hoped to never uncover. In any case, Riza's biggest hope was to end the mission quickly – she could feel Roy's agitation, and the last thing she needed was him reading a report about his own platoon's chattiness.

Bang! A shot fell. Riza nearly jumped out of her skin. So did Roy and the rest of the soldiers. Her ear was shortly numb, buzzing, whistling, her vision blurred with sudden adrenaline. She loaded her weapon in anticipation. The shot had not come from the enemy, but they would surely respond. It had been right next to her.

"Who fired that?!" Roy hollered at the top of his lungs. He nearly drowned out the incoming attack.

Gasping, Riza grabbed his leg. Tearing on him until he staggered to his knees, she only just got him out of the line of fire. With a massive boom that tore on their eardrums, a canon burst through the upper half of their defence. The soldiers shouted in shock, scrambling to take better cover. It would have been nothing short of a miracle if one or two were not beheaded now. Just like Roy almost had been.

Another shot, then another, both from the enemy lines.

Pang, Riza fired through the slit in the sandbags. Her gun clicked as she reloaded, another shot and another click following in quick succession. Two hardly moving shadows collapsed behind a crate. They screamed; she had not aimed to kill them after all.

More shots hailed their way. Riza tried hard not to miss any shooting nearby – potential outposts or snipers – but her own shots rang in her ears. Her heart was thundering in her ribcage, nearly knocking the breath out of her lungs. Whoever had fired that shot almost had her Colonel on his conscience.

And she remembered only one person to have loaded his gun already…

"Cease fire!" Roy furiously barked. Riza took her finger off the trigger at once. Several others followed suit, only one accidentally firing again. The shot tore through the sudden silence. Bang, bang, the rebels answered, a sandbag bursting at the side. Then it was quiet. Sand trickled softly, boots faintly audible from behind the barricade.

Roy kept his hand up for his soldiers to freeze. Riza did not dare turn around and see whether anyone had been killed by the canon. Her brain would only conjure Roy into the picture; bloody and dead, and she knew she would not sleep for weeks.

Voices reached them, if hardly. Like murmurs, unintelligible instructions wisped over to the platoon, moans of pain lacing into them. Riza's shoulders dropped. Those rebels did not want to fight anymore than her; than most of the military division, probably. But they could not simply let them go, and approaching them for arrest would entail risking their lives.

Roy opened his mouth for a rebuke when an explosion ripped through the air. A wave of heat and dust chased down the cobblestone, howling through the sandbags, the pressure making a few topple. Smoke arose from the barricade. Riza stared on in horror. The flames down the street bit her eyes even from a distance.

A military uniform caught her attention. Up on a rooftop, the soldier saluted to a higher ranking officer. A diversion; a distracting manoeuvre, that's all this had been. Pawns for a General. And all those people – all those brave men and women fighting for their cause, albeit with brutality, killed. Murdered in cold blood, no matter the checkmate position they had been in. They could have been left to ask for food and water; surrender to stay alive – they did not have to be bombed to bits!

Riza sank into herself, a defeated sigh escaping her.

They waited until the military police had secured the area. Some soldiers had begun to chat, peeking over the sandbags, relaxing. They all fell still when Roy rose to his feet. His eyes drilled into each of them, down at their weapons. A vein was pulsing on his forehead, neck flaming red.

"Who fired the shot?" he asked in a dangerously serene tone. Paralyzed, the soldiers remained mute. No one dared exchange a glance, least of all steal one at the Colonel. "Who fired it?!" Roy roared.

"Hawkeye," Windecker coughed under his breath. Roy whirled to glare him down, then grabbed Riza's arm. She yelped, now on her feet.

"Explain this, Lieutenant, what happened here?" Roy was beyond livid, hardly seeing the shock on her face.

"A shot was released, prompting the enemy to respond, sir," she rushed, straightening her back.

"I know what happened, I want—" he broke off in a fuming huff. Pinching the bridge of his nose, cursing to himself, he dismissed them all.

Never had there been a faster or more disciplined decampment. Riza could not help but notice how Windecker was the first to be out of sight. She stayed, only moving when her superior officer did. A lump was forming in her throat, making it hard to breathe. She had failed him. She had not fired the shot – he must have known she had not – but she had failed to extend his orders to the men.

Almost immediately – too immediately to have been a coincidence – they were met with the grim expression of Major General Halcrow. Riza's heart constricted. She understood that the Colonel had been responsible for his men, but assigning only newbies and those who had hardly ever been required to actually fire a gun outside of training exercises? It was too purposefully unfair.

"Colonel Mustang," Halcrow towered them threateningly. "Brigadier General Grand would like a word with you." Roy saluted, as did Riza. She could feel the heat from his nape, sharing his embarrassment, suffering at least as much as much. If only she could have taken the blame and—

"First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye," Halcrow halted her in her tracks. He held out his arm, preventing her from following Roy. She could only watch him salute to the Brigadier General, and she feared just how negatively Roy would report to her later. Whenever she was there with him, despite his shame of being scolded in her presence, it was easier to soothe him. She knew what had been said; she could outbalance his depressed perception. "You are under arrest for escalating a delicate situation and endangering fellow soldiers."

Riza froze from head to toe. Slowly, eyes wide, she turned to look up at Halcrow. The arm having acted as a barrier now started herding her backwards. A car had parked there – a criminal transport vehicle. As if she was some sort of unpredictable felon who could not be contained on the backseat of a car.

Heart caught in her throat, Riza failed to respond. She could not have called out anyway; she would have only impaired Roy's reputation further.

Stripped off her gun and helmet, Riza found herself standing rigidly in the back of the transporter. The doors fell shut with a heavy clank, the lock clicking. The last thing she saw was Halcrow exchanging a word with Windecker.