ANSWERS TO REVIEWS:
Lily: You're welcome :)
Curligurl0896: Ah, sorry about the lack of EdWin fluffiness! I promise though that that will definitely come in later chapters! ;) Thank you for pointing out my mistake, I sometimes write so fast and forget to proof read (my biggest enemy .) that I completely miss such things! Seriously thank you! :) The situation with the military is certainly getting more difficult the more we find out! ;)
Pouda-P: haha thanks Pouda-P! :D Don't worry now that I've gotten a bit of the military stuff outta the way, I'll write another chapter focusing on Winry and all the others!
Panic: Oh an office job huh? Ugh, I know that feeling, I remember having to work an internship off at an office and it had been strenuous to say the least. But good luck with it! :) Thank you very much :) I thought I may have overdone it with demonizing Olivier ^^ Ahh, what better way to bond siblings than in war (just kidding) I wanted to save those situations for the next chapters when the confrontation with Olivier comes up! ...I'm starting to get scared about that mind link ya know...I actually wrote down most of the Homunculi's positions already and I had Lust as a intelligence officer already (a highly skilled one of course). ;)
Intel on the Enemy
A smirk grew on Bradley's face and the shadows disappeared, "What brings you here Selim?" he was smiling.
Selim Bradley smiled innocently, the previous image of menacing sharp teeth cloaked in shadows seemed a fleeting illusion now, "I wanted to visit you daddy!" he ran up to his father and hugged him just as a knock sounded on the door.
Bradley's visible eye flashed in realization before he unlocked and opened the door only to reveal Lieutenant General Mustang.
She was holding files in her hands and when she saluted to him she noticed the young boy clinging to his father happily, her eyebrows rose in surprise at seeing the little boy here. Had Bradley brought him to work? It seemed highly unlikely, since as far as she knew, he often tried keeping business and pleasure separate.
"Apologies sir, shall I return-" she was about to apologize, until Selim broke apart from his father and took Riza's hand.
"Please stay! You're the nice lady that works for dad right?" Riza nodded, smiling down at the child.
Bradley looked at the folders in her hands, "Is there anything that requires my attention Lieutenant General Mustang?" he narrowed his eye at the files.
Riza turned her head to him, "Yes, sir," without a word, she handed him the files and the first thing that filled his vision was white.
A blank sheet.
Bradley looked quizzically at Riza, but the woman just fixed him with a look.
He turned his attention back to the paper, this time looking thoroughly. He spotted something in the bottom left corner.
Delta.
His eyes moved to the bottom right corner.
Romeo.
Top right.
Alpha.
Top left.
Charlie.
Middle.
Hotel.
Forty degrees to the right.
Mike.
Forty deegres to the left.
Alpha.
His eyes narrowed, "Drachma?" his gaze lifted again to regard Riza, "Have there been any news?" she knew he had seen the pattern.
It must have been something important and secret if Riza went through the trouble of encoding her message to him. What had Drachma done now?
She motioned her head toward the paper and Bradley looked at it again. He turned it around and on the back of it, there stood a single word in the middle of the pure white.
COMING.
Rage began to grow inside of him, Drachma was coming. To Central? Of course, Riza knew the formations of the attack, Mustang was the first to report to her. So she had confirmed his suspicions.
Selim suddenly grabbed onto his shaking arm, "Miss!" he called over to Riza, who momentarily tore her gaze from her superior and leaned down to look at his son.
"Yes Selim?" she smiled kindly.
"Do you mind if daddy and I are alone now? Daddy wanted to show me some cool stuff he has here!" Riza blinked in surprise and Bradley grabbed his son's hand.
"My apologies, Lieutenant General Mustang. It seems my son is impatient to snoop around," Bradley's seemingly bright smile hid a plethora of suppressed rage.
Riza just shook her head and smiled, "It's quite alright General. I hope you understood my message," Bradley nodded curtly before he dismissed her and once again, closed and locked the door.
He let go of his son's hand after giving a warning squeeze, "That may have just gotten us into trouble, Selim. Watch your actions carefully next time," he sent his son a stern look.
Selim smiled innocently, "But father, you promised to show me some of your military things here right?" he tilted his head in child-like curiosity.
"I suppose," Bradley moved to sit at his desk.
"...What did she write on that paper?" Selim suddenly asked, his gaze uncharacteristically serious.
Bradley smirked, a dangerous glint in his eye, "Something very interesting Selim, but nothing we already didn't anticipate," Selim nodded.
Bradley slammed a black pin over the map, right over the location where Drachma was.
The black pin symbolized annihilation or a destroyed territory.
Greed sighed heavily, blowing a wayward piece of his hair out of his sharp eyes, "Alright, remind me again why I'm tagging along with you lot?" he rolled his eyes when Ling slammed into his side overenthusiastically and wrapped an arm around him.
"Because! Ed said it would be wise for you to tag along and besides, Armstrong is injured, which means she will need all the help she can get!" Ling grinned, fist bumping the air happily.
Greed grit his teeth, it was kind of hard to believe they were in the middle of a war zone with this guy being so cheery and happy-go-lucky as it was.
His gaze fixated itself on the other soldier's back.
Well, he couldn't say the same about Kimblee. Maybe Ed had wanted to punish him for his sly comments earlier or something, but he knew that him and Kimblee weren't exactly diaper buddies.
"So, you know the coordinates bomber?" Greed didn't bother uttering Kimblee's name, like for nearly everyone that got on his nerves, which was everyone, he had come up with a nickname.
Ed was runt or on especially dark days, beansprout. He used to be short, sadly he was nearly the same height as Greed now, but Greed still used the nickname to occasionally rile him up. Alphonse was cinnamon roll, since he was so innocent and a goodie two shoes. Ling was piss ant, because he was Ling. Mustang was sparks or ' Captain Useless' as he liked to call him on rainy days. Armstrong, Alex not that scary-ass sister of his, was bald sparkly idiot or sparkly idiot for short. His sister was ice queen.
Ah, right. He shouldn't forget his girlfriend's awesome nickname, princess badass.
Greed grinned, his thoughts making a detour to think of her. The way she sometimes covered her face when she laughed because she was embarrassed to show people her teeth, even though nothing at all was wrong with them. The way she would be so modest in comparison to some other women that flaunted all their stuff. The way she would scream at him because he either forgot to buy the milk or eggs and he would need to go out and get them again. Or the way when she would write the grocery list she would include in brackets 'don't forget' or 'Yes, we will eat that'.
"I see someone's thinking of their girlfriend again~~" Ling drawled out the last word, leaning in close to Greed and cackling loudly when Greed's irritation visibly grew but before he could say anything, Kimblee started chuckling.
Greed's head snapped to the mad bomber, "And what's so funny huh?" he glared daggers at his back.
Kimblee shook his head, his blue eyes meeting Greed's burning violets, "Oh nothing much. I've met the entertaining young lady before," the smirk on his face caused Greed to feel a spark of anger.
"Oh really? Where?" he challenged, feeling his fists shaking.
Kimblee was the epitome of calmness, "If I recall correctly, that was on the day where she visited the General's wife, it was the same day where I had gotten deployed here. She was quite entertaining to observe, her jokes were a pleasure to hear as well but not as pleasurable as my explosions," with every sentence uttered from Kimblee's mouth, Greed's nerves were thinner and thinner until they threatened to snap.
Greed scoffed, irritated. Ling looked between the two men, one completely unfazed and the other steaming with irritation. He sighed, "Oh brother..."
"What?!" Greed barked at him, if he would be a dog, he would be trying to bite Ling's head off.
Ling shook his head, "You get jealous so easily..." he deadpanned.
Greed crossed his arms, "It's not jealousy. It's called protectiveness," Ling rolled his eyes.
"Whatever you say," the Xingese soldier let his gaze roam across the increasingly cold and bare terrain. They were nearing Fort Briggs it seemed.
Kimblee suddenly slowed, "Slow down, we don't know how the situation looks like exactly so there may be enemy soldiers hiding somewhere nearby," he rested a hand on the rifle slung across his chest, the other was placed securely on one of his many bombs strapped to his hips.
Greed eyed the bomb suspiciously, "I sure hope you know where you're throwing this thing," Greed reading his weapons too, two semi-automatic machine guns. He was armed to the tooth.
Ed had warned him about possible ambushes along the way and since he had the ever present worry child tagging along, he decided to arm himself as best as humanly possible.
Two semi-automatic machine guns were in each of his hands, three smoke bombs and three explosive bombs were strapped on his belt, ammunition belts were slung across his chest and another was loosely hanging off one side of his hip and down his thigh. He had two military knives secured at his thighs, back legs and he had two hidden blades within his soles, he just had to press a button at the back of his boots and they would nicely come out.
Oh yeah, technology was sweet.
Additionally, he had two dual pistols strapped to his back, another berretta M9 caliber 9mm secured at his hip. Though Greed's style relied more on speed, strength and close combat, he often resulted in using firearms as long distance alternative fighting once he got close enough to his enemies to kick their asses.
He looked over at his brother and smirked, Ling hadn't come with lightweight either. A bazooka was strapped on his back, if he didn't know his brother's strength, he would have thought that poor sod couldn't have carried it. He was naturally thin, but that didn't mean he was weak, oh no. Ling was proficient in using bombs and a combination of firearms and close combat techniques, primarily from their homeland Xing. Greed himself knew how to fight in Xingese combat methods, but that wasn't quite his style so he opted to only use it when he was weaponless.
Kimblee however, was full of his explosives and bombs and whatnot. Most of the explosives he carried on himself were personally created by him, added with a "blast" as he usually said it with a wicked twinkle in his eye.
Greed wasn't afraid of Kimblee, but the guy was seriously nuts if it brought him pleasure in hearing things explode.
The group crouched down low, ears and eye open and alert at their surroundings, ignoring the chill invading their bodies.
Greed had been at first against Kimblee leading their group to Fort Briggs, but he knew the route far better than Greed did and knew a few shortcuts and loopholes, having been to Fort Briggs far often than Greed or Ling.
His proficiency in explosives was a nice bonus in arctic terrain such as this, so Greed could understand why Mustang often sent Kimblee out to help should they require reinforcements.
However...
"Doesn't this whole situation smell funny to you?" Greed quietly asked, eyes staying alert on the white land.
"How so?" Kimblee inquired back.
"That Ice Queen can't possibly be injured and hell even if she was, just how strong are these guys at Drachma anyway? Our military exceeds theirs in firepower and experience," Ling couldn't help but agreed with his brother's reasoning.
Kimblee frowned, "I agree, however keep in mind that Drachma surpasses us in numbers and numbers are a dangerous thing. You can have two of the most powerful soldiers on your side facing a whole battalion of weaker soldiers. The party with the mass army of soldiers wins because after some time their sheer numbers overwhelm even the most powerful," Greed didn't like to admit it, but what Kimblee was blabbering on about made sense.
Ling frowned and Greed noticed the uncharacteristic notion, "What's wrong?" he rose an eyebrow suspiciously.
Usually when his brother was serious that was never a good thing, Ling slowly looked at Greed, his face contemplative, "I wonder...we know Armstrong would rather take her right arm than send out a telegram warranting help...what if Drachma somehow got their hands on our communication lines and sent a telegram in their name?" Kimblee stopped advancing forward and turned to regard Ling.
"Highly unlikely I believe...they would need to get through Armstrong's line of defense to do so and that is even more unlikely than her being injured," Kimblee rubbed his chin but lifted his gaze to regard the two brothers, "However, you aren't wrong. I've thought of this too, if the reason they had sent out the telegram was another,"
Greed rose an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest, "You mean she isn't really injured?"
Kimblee nodded mutely in agreement.
Ling frowned in confusion, "But why couldn't she just write what the real matter was? Maybe she really is injured and it's so severe she had no time to be discreet?" Kimblee's gaze darkened.
"Whatever the case may be, we need to keep moving. We are just short of the Fort now," he nodded to the two brothers before turning his back and moving forward, crouching down low again.
Greed and Ling looked at each-other before following suit.
Riza looked behind herself before she slowly entered into the shady bar, the dim, red and orange lights illuminating the whole place in a dark setting, where one associates the red light district.
Riza spotted the familiar, burly woman behind the counter, nursing a drink before seeing her and waving her over. She wasted no time and strode as casually as possible toward the bar.
The elderly woman waved a hand nonchalantly, "You can relax here, just me and my girls are here and nobody else," Riza's shoulders dropped slightly in a sign of relaxation at the revelation and she smiled tiredly.
"It's good to see you after such a long time Madam," Riza nodded her head in respect.
The woman smirked, offering Riza a cold drink, "The pleasure is all mine Mrs. Mustang. Heh, I still can't believe Roy finally had the guts to ask you after all this time. One would think I hadn't raised a coward," she rolled her eyes but Riza knew she meant well and giggled.
"Well, he is alright on most days I suppose," she smiled kindly.
Madam Christmas turned serious again, "So, I don't suppose you've come to chat with me over good old times have you?" her gaze briefly flickered to the women she employed before returning to Riza.
The former sharpshooter's eyes held a tinge of worry in them as she deposited the files onto the counter top, Chris Mustang opened the folder and looked at its contents. She rose an eyebrow and clicked her tongue, "So, Central is it?" she scoffed.
"Figures," her voice was filled with disdain, a clear line of hatred for Drachma.
Riza frowned in confusion, "Excuse me?" Madam Christmas looked at Riza.
"Figures Drachma would attack Central first," at the confused look on her face, she elaborated, "Our might may be strongest in Central, but the Führer is also stationed here in Central. Anyone managing a successful attack on Central runs the opportunity to directly harm the Führer and that's a risk those bastards are obviously going to take, they have the numbers for it anyway,"
Riza frowned, safely tucking the files away, "You mean to tell me they will launch a direct attack on the Führer's life? That would be suicidal with how much security Central is equipped with," she still didn't understand the motive of Drachma's movements.
Madam Christmas clicked her tongue, putting her cigarette flat out, "It's not so much an attempt at the Führer's life itself as it is directly hitting the military where it really hurts, their moral. If the Führer were to even remotely shake under the imposing threat, our military may just as well," she fixed Riza with a stare, "Everyone knows a country can't be run by itself. Many have tried and many have failed. If a king crumbles under the combined strength of its enemy, the country falls with it,"
Madam Christmas leaned forward, her gaze sharp and wary, "Now, about the thing I wanted to talk to you about," she retrieved a small stack of papers from underneath the counter and placed them on the counter top in front of Riza to look at.
The blonde sharpshooter rose an eyebrow and lifted the files, curiosity taking the better of her and opening the first page, "What is this Madam?"
"A lead," she replied curtly and Riza looked at the portrait of a young woman with long dark, curly hair and piercing red eyes, "Codename: Lust, position: intelligence officer under direct command of King Bradley. She operates under nearly anything you can imagine falling under the description intelligence officer. She works as a field and operations officer as well as a highly skilled analyst and counterintelligence officer. Rumors say she is even a double agent working for Drachma, but she has been a loyal subordinate for Bradley for a long time," Riza's eyes widened, the papers in her hands shaking, "What? What's wrong? Know her?"
Riza swallowed the lump in her throat, "No but...why isn't she included in any reports? I haven't heard anything from her at all,"
Madam Christmas sighed, "There are many things kept well hidden even within your own force, I wouldn't put it to a powerful man such as Bradley to be hiding certain things for a high price." Her eyes moved down to the file, "She commands a large but unknown number of units and she only answers to Bradley. However, I've heard her siblings work there too, in the military,"
Riza rose an eyebrow, "Siblings?" the situation seemed to spike.
The elderly woman nodded, "Aye," her gaze narrowed, "I haven't gathered enough info yet, but rumors have it that they all serve under Bradley directly and only he knows they even exist,"
"But how...how is this possible? Bradley's movements were supposed to checked and transparent even if he is in command," she didn't understand anything now.
Madame Christmas snorted, "That so? I wouldn't be surprised if there's a very tragic story hiding behind that pretty face," a manicured finger nail pointed on the face of the officer codenamed "Lust".
Name: CLASSIFIED
BIRTH: CLASSIFIED
Gender: Female
Codename: LUST
Rank: Intelligence Officer, 1st DIVISION
SUPERIOR: GA BRADLEY
PLACE OF DEPLOYMENT: CLASSIFIED
MISSIONS: CLASSIFIED
CAPABILITES: CLASSIFIED
FIELD OF EXPERTISE: CLASSIFIED
Riza read through the given information but it wasn't much. Most of it was classified, but why?
"Who was she?" Riza muttered to herself, the face of "Lust" piercing her with those very same red eyes.
What could Bradley be planning? Is Olivier really injured? And what's up with Lust in this one? Stay tuned for the next chapters! :)