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After a few minutes of searching, Sandra found a vacant phone booth outside a small open pub. Hearty laughter was pouring out of it's open doors and Sandra could hear rustling and bumping of more than just chairs. She turned to Alphonse, who was beginning to peer inside the pub suspiciously.
"Hey, Al? What's Mustang's number?"
Alphonse turned. "Huh, what?"
Sandra waved the phone with emphasis, and Alphonse in turn began reeling off the number to Mustang's direct office. After dialing the number, and listening to the first few rings, a rustled man stumbled out of the pub, laughing loudly and coughing. His crew cut was messy though it was short and his glazed eyes scanned the area around him, settling on both of the figures standing by the pay phone.
"Hello?"
A woman picked up the phone, most likely the operator.
Sandra turned back to the phone. "Can you connect me to Colonel Roy Mustang, please?"
"Name and code please?" The woman asked politely.
Looking back at Alphonse, she mouthed, 'help me,' and went back to the phone, "Can you hold on for a sec, ok thank you."
Staring at the drunk man (who began calling someone inside), Al reeled off Ed's code to Sandra -which he had memorized in case Ed ever forgot- and watched silently as she repeated it to the operator. She stood still by the phone until she turned back with an empty smile. "Ok." She said. "Thank you."
The sound of crackling was subtle as she was placed on hold, mostly leaving Sandra in silence. After a few meager seconds, there was click, and then, "Hello?"
"Hey Mustang." Sandra sighed. She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked down at the ground.
"What happened, Ed?"
Sandra chuckled. Clever man.
"He's not there."
"Then come back, you can find him lat-"
"Someone got him Mustang."
There was no response, just a muffled groan from the other side of the phone and creaking as Mustang leaned back in his chair. "Fucking great."
"There's more to it though. It was basically planned from start to finish, my guess it's the same people who-"
"Fullmetal, I want you back in the office immediately."
Sandra staggered. "What, n-no. I can't, he's sti-"
"NOW, Ed. No room for discussion."
Sandra stood in silence, at a stalemate with herself. Should she disobey or listen? It's not like Mustang understood what she was going through. The guilt, the anger, the fear that she could be next. It just kept coming across her mind that she lead them straight to Daniel, damn it, it was all her fault.
"Fullmetal." Mustang pressed.
Sandra scoffed into the phone, "Just shut up."
Slamming on the receiver with a simmering attitude, Sandra walked passed Alphonse briskly. "Let's go."
Following closely behind, Al asked her, "Where?" Just as the drunk patron shouted "Happy Hanukkah!" waving around a bottle that was probably concealed in his jacket.
Sandra kept walking. "Let's go."
"She's not your subordinate, Colonel." Hawkeye said calmly. Mustang looked up at her with a small scowl.
"I know she's not, but it's not like I could talk to her by her real name through the -"
"That's not what I meant, Sir."
Looking up at the rest of the group, he watched them silently agree with Hawkeye, either nodding their heads or blinking away from his gaze.
Breda closed a pamphlet.
"She may be sixteen, but it's not like she's had the same type of deal Edward has."
"Yeah boss, go easy on her." Havoc added. "She's not exactly comfortable with the military."
Mustang sighed. "What was I supposed to do?"
"Uhmm, not snap at her?" Havoc asked sarcastically.
Feury tilted his head. "If I remember correctly, she's not really comfortable with confrontation either, like that time about her being left handed and all."
"Meaning she's a bit fragile." Falman nodded. He gestured to Feury. "How's that 'talk' about being left handed going, by the way?"
Feury shrugged. "She hasn't told me anything yet."
Mustang clapped his hands together. "Well, you're just going to have to wait until she comes back."
The others went back to their work, mumbling.
Watching the blond and the armored boy leave, Aaron drank the rest of his beer slowly, savoring it's crisp taste of artificial lime and toasted barley. Tossing the empty bottle in a nearby trash can, he walked away towards the direction of the edge of town, where the abandoned factories lay.
He chuckled as he put his hands in his pockets, shuffling the stray pieces of paper inside. He pulled few out, and easily picked out one with a few scrawlings inside. He continued walking, searching through streets for an abandoned phone booth, deciding each one he found was far too close to the pub he had left.
After walking for five minutes, Aaron decided he was well away from the bar, and picked a stray straggler from the street.
"You know where I can find a pay phone?" He asked.
The man pointed a bony finger to a corner and sighed. "Tere..." He whispered.
Not bothering to thank the useful patron ("Basturd" The man muttered.), Aaron made his way to the pointed phone and tapped in the number on his scrap of paper.
Three rings.
"I hope you've got info?"
"Definitely. I'll meet you at our usual spot. You're gonna enjoy this."
"Hmm."
Sandra's anger cooled as she walked up the steps of the Central Command center, apologizing to Alphonse for her behavior on the way back, snapping at him and walking in silence.
"It's okay Sandra, your just upset."
Sandra sighed slowly and looked towards the ground, a sure sign she felt guilty. "But I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you, Al."
Walking up the the office, Sandra walked directly through the doorway and towards the couch, where she slouched down, trying to hide her face.
"Sandra?" Mustang queried. Sandra drew herself closer to the couches frame.
"Leave me alone." She said. "Everything's bad enough as it is."
Havoc chuckled. "You're so horrible with children, Colonel."
Before Mustang could retort with his own answer, Sandra turned around to face Havoc. "You're not so great with women either, hotshot."
Breda, who had replaced his cup of water, choked again.
Aside from his coughing, everyone stared at Sandra and her simmering attitude, which diffused quickly under their stares.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just..." She threw her head onto the couch. "This day is so horrible." Was heard, muffled through the fabric. She laced her arms behind her head and sighed.
"We'll find him." Al said.
Sandra looked up from the couch, her face flushed. She stared at the room for a bit before slinking back onto the couch, crossing her arms and continued to stare at the floor. "Sure."
Sandra sat on the couch for a few minutes while Al continued to relay their events, laying out the rough sketch of the man that had Sandra had drawn.
"The woman at the clinic said he looked military." Al said, making Sandra perk up. She sat up from slouching with a concentrated stare. She blinked.
"Hand me that?"
Al walked briskly over to Sandra, handing the paper over with a cautious glance.
She took it carefully, as if it was made out of fragile material. She looked at the picture for a while, her expression unreadable. With a frown, she sighed and placed the paper back in Al's hand.
She stood up, walking towards the doors of the office.
"Where are you going?" Mustang asked.
Sandra shrugged. "I need to sleep this off. Today really fucked me over."
Maybe it was the way she slumped, maybe it was the sound of abandoned hope in her voice, maybe it was something else, but Mustang and the others let her walk away, deciding it was best for her to leave.
*Starts running*
I didn't do jack squat okay!? I didn't want to end this chapter like this okay!?
Alright. *Dodges book* I'm sorry for making this chapter so short, but be appeased. It'ssomething.
Welcome to the Salty Spatoon, how salty are ya?
Sandra's probably the most salty out of all of us.
*Dodges knife*
It's a joke!
I'll try to update faster, but promise nothing