A/N: Ok, so, I know I said one more chapter, but I totally fibbed again. However, this chapter is over 10,000 words long, so I think you'll understand why I cut it in two. And anyway, I'm posting the final chapter in the next five minutes, so no worries. The reason it took so long . . . well, there are a multitude of reasons, a plethora even. Long story short, drama, research, other projects, and keyboard assassination. Seriously, I've lost count of how many times I've replaced my keyboard this year. A few guys at Best Buy know me on a first name basis now, but they call me the Keyboard Assassin. Luckily, I find it more funny (and pathetic that I've killed enough keyboards to be considered a professional slayer of keyboards) than offensive. Anyway, as for the chapter, I got a little carried away here and there, but I hope it turned out all right anyway. And I was not exactly one with the editing, so please forgive the mistakes. Enjoy!

Same disclaimer applies, I don't own FMA or any of the characters therein. Would be nice *sigh* but still not mine anymore than they were in the last chapter.

Chapter 17

Have Fun Storming the Castle!

The early hours just after dawn found their little infiltration unit gathered in the parlor once again, bleary-eyed and clinging to coffee mugs like life preservers in a flood. Surprisingly, Ed was the only one wide awake, though Roy had his doubts that his lover had actually slept at all to begin with. He made breakfast for everyone – omelets filled with ham, sausage, bacon, and overflowing with cheese – then commenced their final briefing while they ate. He used the white board and projector to show them the buildings schematics, making sure they knew all the safe routes in and out of the building, using still shots from security camera footage to make absolutely sure they had a mental image of the routes.

Once he'd covered their entrance and escape, he then went on to detail the actual plan. Many of the details he left "fluid", as he called it, so that each person would be able to act independently based on the situation. He told them that the reason for that was because he didn't have an entirely accurate count on the guards, and two of the guards moved around quite a bit, as did the scientists. Remaining flexible was his way of accounting for variables. He told them, quite simply, that they each only had to achieve their objectives. The method for doing that would depend on how the cards were dealt. However, he also made sure they had all the information and equipment they might need in order to make good decisions on the fly.

After the briefing, they left in twos and threes, staggering their departure so that they didn't appear to be in cahoots or otherwise up to something. By the time the last group walked out the door – Ed, Al, and Roy – Riza and Izumi were already in place to take out their observers. Unbeknownst to their watchers, Ed had sent Maes and Riza up to the roof before the first pair had left. From there they'd spotted the spies pretty easily.

Riza handled the first one, and while the second one was distracted by the sudden collapse of the first one, Izumi snuck up on him and sent him off to lala land. After literally tying up their loose ends – as in with zip-ties, blindfolds, and gags – the infiltration team was free to head over to pick up their mobile command center and Sig's delivery van from the body shop without worrying about their movements being reported. The watchers, who had been stashed in the trunk of Riza's car, would be left at the secret lab to be arrested with the rest of the thugs.

Their next stop was the auto body shop owned by the Curtis's friend Mason. Mason was a stalky man of average height with olive-toned skin, dark hair, and a friendly, open personality. He seemed remarkably excited to be in on their little clandestine caper, like a kid sneaking out in the middle of the night to play pranks. The Elric brothers seemed to like and respect the guy, treating him a bit like some kind of favorite uncle. Roy could remember Ed mentioning that when he'd first started at Central University at the age of sixteen, he'd had to move in with Mason. Since Ed was underage at the time, he'd needed to live with an adult, and Mason had apparently volunteered. If anything, that fact made Roy respect the man as well, since it showed a high degree of character to be so willing to help out someone else's child.

With a flourish, Mason pulled the tarp off of Vanzilla to show off the fruits of his labor. Replacing the primer gray was perfect white with a factory-finish sheen and a large blue, red, and gold logo for some random plumbing company. The back windows were painted over with white to camouflage the fact that they were covered in black-out fabric inside. Roy wouldn't have even known that it was Vanzilla at all if he hadn't already known about the changes that were being made to it.

The butcher shop's delivery van had received a similar makeover so that it couldn't be associated with the Curtises, and its presence wouldn't be questioned any more than the presence of the "plumber's van" would be. The freezers had been removed from the back and replaced with something covered by a drop cloth, the fabric falling in such a way that the shape seemed almost like a canon of some sort. Roy wondered if maybe it was the "Emma" Ed had mentioned before. Certainly it gave off an almost sinister feeling that concerned Roy a bit. He'd just have to trust in Ed's "no deaths" policy, which Ed had told them extended to enemies and allies alike. He told them bluntly that if he had any say in it, nobody was going to die during this incursion. So, sinister feeling aside, Roy would have faith that whatever jack was hidden in the box, it wouldn't be lethal at least.

While Ed, Riza, Sig, Izumi, Jean, and Paninya were getting changed into their new gear, Al explained to Roy and Breda how the computer network in Vanzilla operated. His tutorial also covered some tips for efficient use of Ed's reenactment model as well as tricks such as snapping still shots from the footage that would be fed to them through the ground crew's cameras – which they were jokingly referring to as "ear-cams". He also gave them a few more details about what Ed would be doing to kill all incoming and outgoing communications. It sounded remarkably complicated, and, for all that Roy was just as big a nerd as any of his fellow lab geeks, most of it was over Roy's head – far enough over his head that, with a little push, the whole mess could land on Mars. Roy just figured that as long as the craziness did what it was meant to do, he wasn't too concerned with not understanding how it did it.

When Ed and the rest emerged, they were dressed all in black from head-to-toe – black long-sleeved shirts, black cargo pants, black tactical vests, and black boots. They looked like they were either a SWAT team or a terrorist group, though, considering what they were about to do, they were actually a little bit of both. With the bulky clothing, Roy couldn't tell if they were wearing Ed's ingenious homemade body armor or not, but he had no doubt that they were. Ed even insisted that those staying in the vehicles wore the armor too, just to be on the safe side. Ed had stuffed his golden hair into a knit cap that was pulled low, and he'd even cut a little hole in the cap so that it wouldn't interfere with his ear-cam/microphone/earbud assembly. Everyone else on the ground crew had the same sort of caps in their pockets, and Ed helped them get the caps on and such situated properly, hooking up their ear-cams and communications equipment then making sure to have each person test the rig. Breda, Roy, Al, and Fuery got ear-cam assemblies too, just in case something went horribly wrong and they needed to prove and/or review what had happened. Ed really was leaving nothing to chance.

"Let's mount up kiddies!" declared Ed once they were all prepared to his satisfaction.

They all climbed into their respective modes of transportation – Sig, Izumi, Al, and Fuery in the delivery van, and Ed, Roy, Riza, Breda, Paninya, and Jean in the former Vanzilla. Needless to say, everyone was in awe of the teched-out van – even Roy since he hadn't seen it since the finishing touches had been put on it. A server had been hooked up and was humming away in a little cubbyhole, a strange jury-rigged cooling system keeping it from overheating. Ed and Al's laptops were strapped down to little swivel-trays that swung out of the underside of the worktable, the two laptops hooked into the server with fire wire and their power cables winding away to vanish into the bundle of wires that ran up the wall of the van then along the join of the roof and wall. The wires all ultimately hooked into a black metal box that had a rather shockingly huge black cable running from the other end of it to the front of the van where it disappeared under the dashboard.

"All hail the Science God," murmured Breda, admiring Ed's handiwork with understandable awe. "Ed, I've said it before, but I'll say it again. You are The Man!"

"I admit, I probably had a little more fun with this than I really should have," said Ed sheepishly, a fetching blush coloring his cheeks. "But I haven't been able to really cut loose and design shit since I was a kid, so it's only fair that I get to go a little wild now that I have the perfect excuse for it."

"I would love to crawl inside your brain," said Breda wistfully. "I'd just hang out for a whole weekend on a lawn chair, sipping margaritas and watching the chaos go by."

"Nah, my head is crowded enough as it is without unwanted visitors," said Ed with a chuckle. They hit a bad bump in the road, and Ed's good cheer was quickly forgotten, Ed squeezing his eyes tightly shut and muttering to himself too softly for any of them to hear.

"You all right there, Science God?" asked Breda with friendly concern.

"Yeah, just not a fan of cars – or van, in this case," said Ed, mustering a slightly shaky smile. Roy reached out with the hand not holding the overhead strap and squeezed Ed's leg – just a gentle pressure to remind him that he wasn't alone, that comfort was close to hand. Ed flashed him a strained smile of gratitude. "Is it sad that, for me, the ride there and back is probably going to be the hardest part of the whole operation?"

"A little bit, yeah," responded Roy teasingly.

Ed shook his head and popped a stick of gum in his mouth before offering the pack to Jean who was sitting in the front passenger seat. "What is this for Boss? Some sort of super spy trick for staying cool under pressure or something?" asked Jean, sounding like he was only half joking.

"Nah, I just figure when I have to put the mask over my face, I don't want to have to smell stale coffee and chewed-up omelets. Haven't you ever worn a dust mask or whatever? You totally have to re-breathe your own funk-nasty breath. I think I'll pass, dude. I like my masks to be minty fresh thanks all the fucking same," replied Ed honestly, and though the others laughed, they also took a stick of gum. The mask Ed referred to fit over the nose and mouth and looked like some kind of gothic-style surgeon's mask – made of some kind of hard, lightweight plastic and painted with a black matte finish. Ed told them that, although the masks would work for disguises, that wasn't their only purpose. He'd mostly created them because he wasn't sure what sort of chemical or biological agents they might find hanging around down in those labs. He hadn't seen anybody running around in biohazard suits while he'd been snooping through their security camera footage, but he was too paranoid to risk it. Ed claimed that the masks could filter out most airborne contaminants and aerosol-based weapons like pepper spray or tear gas. It would also serve to muffle their voices enough that they wouldn't be as easily recognizable. It was another reason why Ed's amazing little microphones were so perfect, because they didn't just pick up audio signals, but also vibrations from the throat, so the masks wouldn't make much difference in how well they would be able to hear each other. If Ed wasn't recruited by the CIA after this was all over, there was no justice in the world. The sort of shit he'd come up with on the fly for this operation would make even James Bond feel outclassed.

"And you know, now that I think about it, oxygen masks at the hospital smell funky too," continued Ed as he idly chewed his stick of gum. "But they don't really smell like bad-breath-funky. They always seem to smell like beef bouillon. And those fucking nose tubes are worse. They smell like rubber and beef bouillon. It's not happy, let me tell you. You'd think it'd make you crave beef, but it really doesn't. It just makes you loathe all things beef flavored. After I lost my arm and leg, by the time they took me off of oxygen, I ate nothing but chicken for a month. I couldn't even look at a cheeseburger without remembering that stench."

"Seriously? Beef bouillon?" asked Breda, incredulous but still laughing with everybody else.

"Of all the ridiculous things you guys could talk about, you choose bad breath and beef bouillon," chimed in Al over the radio, startling all of them. "Brother, I'm not sure what's wrong with you, but I'm pretty sure there's a medication for it."

"Thanks, Al, your vote of confidence is so uplifting," said Ed with heavy sarcasm. "You do know I have some of your embarrassing baby pictures on my laptop right? And a whole van full of people who have never seen you running around with a diaper on your head rather than on your-"

"Do that and I'll tell them all your middle name," counter-threatened Al, but Ed was unfazed.

"And I can tell them yours in return, and yours is way worse than mine," Ed riposted. "As long as this doesn't turn into another debacle like that prank war in high school . . ."

"Oh, you mean the one where you called me by my full name over the school's PA and the next day I returned the favor by calling your full name and upping the ante by announcing you were needed in the nurse's office to pick up ointment for an unfortunate rash?" asked Al and the brothers both chuckled.

"Yeah, and I retaliated by actually giving you an unfortunate rash that made everybody think you had the worst case of acne in the history of teenagerness. That'd be the one," said Ed, his grin impish and at the same reminiscent. "Good times . . ."

"And that's why geniuses should never be allowed to be involved in prank wars," announced Breda in his best school marm impression, shaking his finger at Ed.

"Or pillow fights," added Al. "To be honest, I may be nearly a match for brother in intellect, but even I don't know how he and Winry do it. They do something to the pillows that somehow makes them so hard that a simple application of the correct force can break wood." All but Riza, who was currently driving, turned to look at Ed in utter horror.

"It's not like I can do that with just any pillow," said Ed with a shrug. "It has to be a feather pillow. And it takes a little while to prepare it right. But if you think that's bad, you should see what I can do with a damp towel."

"Yeah, those rat-tails he makes can draw blood," said Al and they could practically hear him shiver at the memory.

"I liked having a way to defend myself in the locker room," Ed said in his defense. "The sort of bastards who like to bully guys of perfectly average fucking height, especially when the average person in question has long hair and a face like mine . . . I may be gay, but there's a limit to how much I'm willing to wrestle with naked men. I'd rather they keep their hands and dangly bits to themselves, and if they didn't agree, I made sure they couldn't use either for a good long while."

"And all mortal men should know better than to incur the divine wrath of the Science God," said Breda and everyone in the van bowed to Ed like worshippers, making him laugh uproariously. "Besides, pissing off geniuses is never a good idea. I mean, haven't they ever seen Real Genius or Revenge of the Nerds? Pissing off nerds never ends well. Next thing you know, there're surveillance cameras in the sorority house, jock straps full of liquid heat, ninja amateur dental work, and houses overflowing with tidal waves of fairly unsanitary popcorn."

"Breda, you're totally showing your age," teased Ed with another bright laugh. "I wasn't even born yet when those movies came out. I won't say I haven't seen them. I've totally seen every single movie featuring super awesome nerd-heroes that Hollywood ever produced. But yeah, half of them predate me."

"Dude, everybody in this van predates you," pointed out Jean, deadpan.

"Touché," conceded Ed.

"Time to put on our game faces, boys," said Riza as the van slowed. "We're here."

As soon as they pulled to a stop, Ed took a deep steadying breath to calm his leftover riding-in-cars jitters. Once he was a little more relaxed, he took over Roy's seat and began setting up the first part of their operation: take out their communications. He had already done the bulk of the work, so really all he had to do was open then execute the program he'd already created. As soon as that program began running – a waving pirate flag replacing the more typical hourglass that would normally indicate wait-time – Ed got all the video feeds up and running too. He had already showed Breda and Roy how to navigate all the surveillance measures he'd set up and had given them a crash course in how to use the reenactment model for route-scouting purposes. By the time he had finished teaching them, they were just as poised and battle-ready as the rest of their posse.

The plan was to move in around lunchtime. Nobody ever expected anything to happen during lunchtime. In fact, most people tended to let their guard down and think only with their stomachs. It was the best time to attack if only because an attack would be the last thing the enemy would expect. Night would have been better for stealth purposes, but Ed was more interested in the element of surprise – which really was a form of stealth all its own. If they could catch their enemy with respective proverbial pants down, they might have a chance of taking them out before they could get a shot off. After all, just because Ed's team wouldn't be using live ammo didn't mean that the enemy would be following the same rule.

There was no visible activity outside of the location which, as shown by their previous reconnaissance, was a huge run-down warehouse with boarded-up windows and a weed-choked courtyard. On the monitors they could see two black vans and a navy blue SUV – so cliché – parked in the loading dock around back, but there didn't appear to be anybody guarding the vehicles. "Are we going to do anything about their transport?" asked Riza, clearly thinking the same thing Roy had been thinking.

"Not necessary," said Ed with a shrug. "Emma will take care of them as soon as we haul anchor."

"But who, or what, is Emma?" asked Riza, but Ed just gave her a downright evil little smile and put a finger to his lips.

"I'm not the kind of guy to kiss and tell," he told her with a wink. "You'll find out soon enough. Let's go."

Their biggest challenge was going to be the approach. In broad daylight, they were more than a little conspicuous with their all black SWAT-like fashion statement. Having the towering Sig in their group didn't help either, especially burdened as the big man was with the hefty black gym bag full of equipment on his back. The approach was one problem for which Ed had few solutions. The best he could manage was to patch in a video loop on the feaux-warehouse's courtyard cameras to conceal their movements. It carried with it two basic flaws. One: as long as the loop was patched in, the control tower wouldn't be able to see what was happening in the courtyard any more than the bad guys could. They'd only have the views from the cameras worn by the invaders, and those were limited to the direction each person happened to be looking. Two: the bad guys could discover their little deception, thereby costing them the element of surprise. It was risky, but it was the best they could manage.

The next problem with the approach was avoiding being seen by those that were physically present. This was an easier problem to solve. All they had to do was calculate sight-lines from all available portals that would allow a person to spot them. It wouldn't be possible to look through the tall windows since they were all boarded up and also too far from the ground. Their only issue would be the small window in the front door. As long as they stayed out of sight of that one window, they'd be home free. It would be easier to avoid being seen the closer to the window they got, since the size of the area visible from the window was much wider further away from it but decreased as distance from the window decreased.

They parked the van where it couldn't be seen from that tiny window. As soon as a video loop began, Al and his team created a distraction a little ways up the street so that nobody would notice the pseudo-SWAT posse jumping out of the plumber's van. Ed and his team ran across the street and into the shadow that the faux-warehouse cast across its courtyard, staying low and just outside of the predetermined sight-line of the door. When they actually reached the door, they stayed under the window, Riza taking up a position that would allow her to be the first to enter, tranq gun at the ready. Sig took up a position immediately behind Ed and Riza, his gaze trained on the courtyard and the street beyond while his bulk hid Riza and Ed from view. Roy couldn't see what Ed was doing, but he could hear him cursing under his breath the whole time accompanied by a number of odd beeps and a distinct sound of something sizzling. Then, suddenly, Ed hissed, "Yessss! You're up." A jerk of his chin indicated he was referring to Paninya.

According to Ed, Paninya hadn't always been the law-abiding citizen she was now. She was an orphan and had grown up on the streets, surviving by less-than-lawful means for many years. Then she lost her legs and was left with no option but panhandling until a gruffly kind automail mechanic had taken pity on her and given her legs. He taught her a love of engineering, and of helping people, but she had managed to maintain some of her less law-abiding skills even into adulthood. Those skills included a deft hand at lock-picking. She had the door open in no time flat, her and Ed exchanging impish looks over the fruits of their labor. Roy didn't need to see the lower half of their faces to know they were grinning.

On the whispered count of three, Paninya pulled the door open, remaining behind it and under the window while the rest of them simply stayed out of Riza's way. When the guard suddenly popped up in front of her and grabbed the muzzle of the tranq gun, she didn't even have time to react before Ed had flowed around her and clocked the guy in the chin. There was a crunch as of bones breaking, and Roy and Breda both winced. The guy dropped to the ground like a stone, and Riza popped him with a tranquilizer dart before pivoting around Edward to take out the other guard on the warehouse level. This one was standing on a balcony of some sort fifty yards or so away, backlit by the large windows of what must have once been the boss's office once upon a time when the warehouse was still in use.

When the second guard had slumped to the floor, Ed quietly closed the door behind them while Jean and Izumi moved to secure the two guards with zip ties. All weapons and communication devices were stripped from them and either smashed, claimed, or otherwise rendered unusable. Even if the poor bastards woke up sooner than expected, they wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. Assuming a loose formation with Ed in the vanguard, they headed for the shadowed wall beneath the balcony.

When they got close enough, it became easier to see through the shadows to Ed's intended target – two doors set into the wall, one directly below the balcony and one only a foot from the outer wall. He stopped at the door directly beneath the balcony and had Sig turn around so that Ed could get into the bag on his back. He pulled what looked like a strip of metal, approximately a foot-and-a-half long, five inches wide, and almost an inch thick. Holes had been punch through the metal on either end, and it seemed to have been molded so that the ends would sit flush against the wall while the rest of it arched away from it slightly. When Ed placed it so that one hole-punched end rest on the wall and the other on the door, Roy was able to figure out the purpose of the design. The curvature of the piece was meant to accommodate doorframes. Ed next pulled a huge bolt gun from the bag, and with a somewhat maniacal look in his eye that gave the impression of a hidden evil grin, he set bolts in each of the holes on the strip of metal.

"That takes care of the entrance to the foyer and elevator," said Roy, casting a quick glance at the displayed floor plan. "And the other door is undoubtedly the stairwell entrance."

"There's a guard on the third landing of the stairwell, heading your way," Breda informed the crew. "You might wanna do something about him before making your next move."

"Nope, I'm all about the multi-tasking," said Ed, sounding like he was having way too much fun. "Teacher, think you can take down the guy on the landing while I handle the door to the first sub-level?"

"Come on, who do you think you're talking to, brat?" snorted Izumi. Just before they entered the stairwell, Ed stopped and turned to everybody.

"All right, we've got 2 minutes max to get these exits locked down. You need to take out any guards that pop their ugly heads out, restrain them and catch back up with the rest of us. If we get separated, you know the drill," he cautioned his team, and once he'd gotten positive replies from all of them, he finally opened the fire door.

The stairwell was just generic white with concrete steps, the edge of each step grooved to prevent careless feet from slipping on them. The guard was almost right on top of them as soon as they entered, but he barely lasted a second against Izumi. She moved so fast, her own ear cam barely caught the movement. Roy was tempted to try to do a slow motion replay just so he could see what she did. Even as she was trussing up her victim, Ed and the rest of the group were already standing at the first sub-level door, bolting it closed like he had the first door he'd come to. A second later, there was pounding at that door and shouting. Breda and Roy could see a scientist and another guard just beyond the bolted door, the scientist panicking while the guard tried to smash the door latch with the butt of his gun – fat lot of good that was going to do him.

By that time, Ed and his crew had already moved on to the next door out of which someone was already stepping out to investigate. Ed used the piece of metal he was holding to brain the guy then left him for Paninya and Izumi to tie up. He was nothing if not efficient. Somebody else was apparently about to open the door – a guard from the look of it, but armed with a really big knife as opposed to a gun, and wearing a disturbing grin like he was looking forward to using his sharp and pointy toy. At a nod from Ed, Sig grabbed the latch and held the door closed so Ed could bolt it shut, temporarily heading off the threat.

"The guy that was at the second sub-level door is already running to the elevator to try to get to you from another floor," Roy told them, and Ed gave a distracted hum to let Roy know he'd heard. "He'll most likely try the first floor or ground level for access, but failing there he'll be heading down."

"Just let me know which way he goes," Ed told him as he began bolting the third sub-level door. There was one more to go then they'd use the fifth, and final, sub-level door to enter the facility. "Do me a favor. Count up the black hats and let me know what numbers I can expect. I need a head count so I can adjust our strategy."

"Roger that," said Breda, and he and Roy looked to the security camera footage and conferred until they could agree on a number. "Well, good news or bad news, Boss?"

"Give me the good news first," replied Ed resignedly.

"All right, there are only two guards on the entire hallway where we think they're keeping Hohenheim," Breda told him.

"The bad news is that there are a lot more guards than we had initially guessed," said Roy, and the other ear cams showed Ed's wince from multiple angles. "It looks like we've got fourteen total with four down and ten more to go."

"Fuck my life," growled Ed then he heaved a huge sigh. "It's all good. We can do this. The only problem is that as we close up these doors, more of them are going to head to the fifth sub-level until they're all going to be concentrated on that door, waiting for us to go in. But there's nothing we can do about it. We just need to move faster." And that was exactly what they did, all of them running down the stairs so quickly that watching their ear cam feeds became extremely nauseating.

"Jee-zus, it's like Die Hard meets The Blair Witch Project," muttered Breda, rubbing his eyes for a moment, and there was a round of soft snickers from their mini invasion force.

"Sorry guys. Just bear with it a little longer," said Ed, his breathing quicker, but still carefully controlled. There was something to be said for the results of years of physical conditioning. After the fourth sub-level door, they all but leapt the last few stairs to get to their point of entry before the bad guys. "All right kids, looks like we got here in time to set up a little surprise for our skeevy little playmates."

He reached into the big black bag and pulled out something that looked like a black pipe – about three or four inches in diameter and three feet long – with some sort of handle attached halfway down its length. He also pulled out a jury-rigged tripod then set up his weird pipe so that one end was braced on the floor while the tripod propped up the other end at an angle. Three guards came in sight at the end of the hall, and Jean's ear cam showed Ed's eyes glittering maniacally. The running guards skidded to a halt, not at all sure what to make of what they found but well-trained enough to be cautious. "Fire in the hole," said Ed a little too cheerfully.

There was a sort of hollow popping sound, and a small spherical object launched toward the guards from the pipe. The men tried to duck back around the corner, but it was too late. The sphere suddenly burst open, blanketing the other end of the hall in some kind of gas. "What was that?!" demanded Breda.

"Modified potato gun," said Ed, a shrug implied in his tone. "Aaaand a modified smoke bomb." While Paninya packed the no-longer-quite-a-potato-gun away in the bag, Ed signaled for Izumi and Jean to follow him to the other end of the hall, the three brandishing little battery-powered handheld fans which they used to dissipate the gas. The guards were on the ground, rolling around and writhing, hands clutching their face as they hollered and whined in purest distress. "This is why fucking with geeks is a bad idea," said Ed with malicious glee.

"Jeez Mary Poppins, what are you going to pull out of your bag next, a coat rack and a rubber tree?" muttered Breda, and Ed snickered.

"Nah, next is a spoonful of sugar, baby," snorted Ed as he and Izumi knocked the guards out – which was actually pretty merciful at this point. As each one fell unconscious, Jean came up behind Ed and Izumi to tie up the guards and strip their weapons, keys, and keycards. Ed pulled a glove off of one of the downed guards and used the putty he'd created to take impressions of his fingerprints and thumbprint, squirreling them away for later use. "All right, fifth floor is mostly storage and shit. The fourth floor is where I think we'll find Hohenheim. Once we've made sure he's secure, we'll get to work gathering evidence."

"Let's get 'er done then," said Jean, and the whole group moved on toward the elevator.

Like a big metal Jack-in-the-Box, the elevator had a surprise inside. It was the guard with the knives that they had seen earlier. He (or was it she?) was small and slender and had long lanky dark hair that somehow gave the impression of a palm tree's fronds. Despite his (or her?) size, he wasn't so much skinny as whipcord lean, just like Ed, and he had a really appalling number of knives attached everywhere he could feasibly fit a sheath that he could reach with ease.

As soon as the elevator doors opened he/she came out swinging – or in this case, slicing. Ed managed to dodge, but Paninya caught a glancing cut across her right bicep. "Fall back!" commanded Ed, and the rear line stepped back, the vanguard leaping back to join them. Faced with a solid line of offense and defense, their knife-happy opponent dropped back just out of reach, wary and searching for an opening. He had a truly disturbing grin on his face that sent a shiver through Roy and Breda both, and they couldn't imagine it was any better in person. Ed made a quick gesture to Izumi who nodded minutely to show she understood.

Ed and Izumi leapt in at the same time, baiting Palm Tree Head until he was entirely engaged in trying to fend off two extremely formidable fighters at once. They would each leap into the fray, entirely distracting the enemy only to leap out and allow the other one to engage. They kept him so busy that he didn't even notice Sig taking aim, his gun tracking Palm Tree Head's every move. As soon as Ed and Izumi got him standing still for longer than a second, Sig fired, almost point-blank. Palm Tree Head went rigid, letting out a little whimper as strong spasms shook his small frame. The second the guy stopped shaking, Ed stepped in and punched him in the head with his automail fist.

He went out like a light, and they were quick enough to strip him of his impressive number of knives. It was actually more knives than they could find room for in the bag, so they donned a few of them for lack of a better solution. Maybe they'd even come in handy or something. After making absolutely sure they had got every last knife, they zip-tied the guy's wrists and ankles just like the other guards then left him with his buddies.

They took the elevator to the next floor, and once the elevator doors opened they got to find out first hand just how well their body armor worked. The first shot caught Ed in the gut, the body armor keeping it from piercing his stomach but doing nothing to shield him from the impact. It knocked him back into Paninya who had been standing directly behind him. "We can't see a shooter!" exclaimed Breda, as the ground team threw themselves out of the line of fire, plastering themselves to the sides of the elevator while Havoc enthusiastically pressed the "Close Doors" button on the elevator control panel. As soon as the doors were closed, Ed curled forward with an arm around his stomach.

"Damn it, that suuuucked," he wheezed.

"You gonna be all right kid?" asked Izumi, leaning down to get a good look at his face.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. But go ahead and wrap up Klepto's arm while I catch my breath," Ed told her breathlessly. Since they couldn't call each other by name, and everybody knew that Ed often called Paninya a klepto, it was as good a handle for her as any. Really, they'd thought of everything under the sun, covering every eventuality, every minor detail, but somehow had completely forgotten to give each other handles so they wouldn't have to reveal their real names. One would think, as many nerds as they had in their crew, somebody would have thrown out some ideas on that score.

"I've got eyes on the shooter with the thermal imaging," Roy told the team. "He's just inside a doorway, in a small space between the doorframe and the wall that just so happens to fall in the cameras' blind spot. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Nothing's broken," answered Ed, sounding like he was already getting his wind back. "It's gonna be a bitch of a bruise later though."

"So, what's the next move?" asked Havoc.

"Smoke 'em out," said Ed with a little more glee than the situation strictly called for, not that Roy could blame him. "How about the guards on Hohenheim's door? Are they holding their positions?"

"Yeah, but if I'm reading these results from your model right, there's a high chance that the guy on the left will jump in if it looks like his comrade's in a pinch," replied Roy and he heard Ed sigh. "Also, it looks like they're better armed than our other friends."

"All right," said Ed as if he'd come to a decision. "This is gonna be a two-pronged attack. I'm gonna fire two smoke bombs. One is to take out the guy firing on the elevator, and the second will create a smoke screen to get us closer to the pair of goombas guarding the goal. Cancer-stick, you and me will go in low and take advantage of the smoke screen to get closer to the door. I have another trick up my sleeve, but I need to get close enough, and I need you ready to shoot them if I screw up. Teacher, Bigfoot, take out our lone gunman. Make a show of it, so they don't notice what's happening inside the smoke screen. Everybody, put on your goggles for this next bit, or you ain't gonna wanna my friend anymore once the smoke hits you."

"Gotcha, Boss," confirmed Havoc. "But why do I gotta be Cancer-stick?"

"Hey, if I can be Klepto, you can deal with being Cancer-stick. Man up. And you smoke too much, especially for a jock, so it makes sense," Paninya counter-complained, and Havoc could only slump in defeat. "Besides, we don't want to give him cause to call us anything worse."

"Good point," said Havoc, and Ed suddenly had a cheerfully evil gleam in his eyes.

"You ready to kick some ass?" asked Ed, and Havoc sighed and rolled his eyes before nodding. They set up the modified potato, using the control tower's directions to aim for the doorway where their trigger-happy little friend was hiding, since the control tower could see what Ed was pointing at even if Ed couldn't. Ed rigged the gun so he could pull trigger with a jerk of a rigged cord so he wouldn't have to put himself in danger in order to get that first shot off. As soon as they were set up, had their goggles snugly in place, and everyone was pressed against the walls of the elevator again, Paninya reached over and pressed the button to open the elevator doors.

Ed jerked his leg, and, with a "foomp" sound, a smoke bomb was launched at the doorway through which the gunman had shot at them. There was a loud yell followed by cursing, and a few seconds later the cursing turned into tortured whimpering and begging. Ed wasn't generally cruel by nature, so he gestured for Izumi and Sig to rush forward and knock him out. Meanwhile, Ed and Paninya moved the modified potato gun into position. Because of the thickly billowing smoke, they weren't able to aim it well, but they didn't really need accuracy, just proximity.

The second smoke bomb sailed through the air to land within a few feet of the two door guards who had been alarmed by the first smoke bomb but had made sure to hold their positions. They were professionals and knew better than to get distracted from their given assignments. Sadly, the range on the modified potato gun wasn't great, especially shooting from the hip, so the smoke from the bomb wouldn't be able to quite reach bouncer 1 and 2, but Ed had said he just needed to get close. Hopefully, the smoke would reach at least far enough for what he had planned.

Once the hall had filled with smoke, Ed and Havoc ghosted forward, their feet hardly whispering across the floor as they passed through the makeshift cover. Breda navigated for them, calling out simple face-of-a-clock directions to get them right up next to the door guards while staying within the smoke's concealing folds. "Hey! Watch out! They've got their guns drawn!" warned Roy, but neither Ed nor Havoc was able to acknowledge the warning without giving away their position. Roy could only hope that they'd heard and that Ed, like always, had a plan.

Suddenly, something that looked a bit like a landmine, of all things, slid across the floor from within the smoke, coming to a stop right in front of the two guards. They looked down at it then up at each other with obvious confusion then there was a loud buzzing and a sharp fizzling sound like electrical discharge. Without warning, their guns were yanked from their hands to fly to the mine-looking device on the floor where they stuck like they'd been welded there. A second passed in stunned silence before one of the men crept toward the device, the other inching toward the smoke and peering closer as if to trying to see through it. Then the man who had approached the device shouted out in alarm and fell forward to land on the device. He pushed and pushed as hard as he could but couldn't seem to lift his upper torso from where it was stuck. He yelled at his friend to call for help, but as soon as the other man turned toward his downed comrade, an automail fist flew out of the smoke to connect with his jaw and send him reeling into unconsciousness. Ed and Havoc strolled out of the smoke wearing smug looks of triumph.

"Yep, this place sure is awesome," began Ed as if chatting idly. "Great security and safety measures, right down to the steel-reinforced floor. That's why you can't get up. My little super magnet here has caught the metal in your gear, your guns, and the floor and made you all the best of friends." Ed crouched down in front of his victim. "Oh no, don't get up on my account, buddy. You look pretty comfy." Ed punched the guy then stepped back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a garage door remote and pushed the button on it. The fizzling sound stopped, and Ed turned to Havoc. "Do me a favor and get this guy tied up while I get started on the door. The rest of you, watch my back. Control tower, how are we doing on the body count?"

Breda and Roy took a minute to confer and make a tally then Roy answered, "Eleven down, three to go. They're upstairs on the second floor. They've put all the scientists in one room to guard them, and have settled in for a siege."

"That's do-able," said Ed with a little sigh. "Let me know if anything heads our way. Time to deal with Hohenheim."

"Good luck," said Roy, knowing that Ed was going to need all the help he could get. If he believed in God, Roy would be praying that this next meeting ended better than Ed's last chat with his erstwhile father.

Ed got started opening the door, working his magic with the keypad, swear words falling like the words of a spell that somehow forced the stubborn thing to open. When he finally succeeded, he moved to stand in the open doorway, peering in. On the first pass of Ed's ear cam, the room appeared dark and empty, but then Ed stepped to the side and did something with the still open keypad lock and the room's overhead lights flickered on. And there he was, curled up in a corner, covered in a thin blanket and just starting to wake. There was a glint of gold as he lifted his head, and two more as he blinked owlishly the intruders. "All right, old man, even if you recognize any of us, don't say our names. This is being recorded for posterity, and it'll be better for all of us if our names aren't known."

"But what in the world are you doing here?" demanded Hohenheim, still groggy. Apparently, not being a morning person was something else Ed inherited from his father. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?"

"Tch, I know it better than you do," retorted Ed petulantly. "And that's not the fucking point. Look, we're not technically here to rescue you. The cops'll be doing that in a few minutes. We're just here to gather evidence and make sure the bad guys can't kill the scientists, eliminate their hostage, or bury evidence once the cops bust down the doors. We're giving them this lab like a gift and recording everything so Ouroboros can't pull their usual shit and get out of a conviction. I will see them swing. End of story. There's a kid out there who's been waiting almost twenty years to be with his dad. I may hate your guts, but I've never denied that kid anything. So, man up, and do your fucking part. When the cops question you, tell them everything. I've already taken steps to make sure that there won't be reprisals for your testimony. You just gotta make sure it's a testimony worth all the bullshit I've gotta go through to protect it. You got that?"

"Yes, I believe I do," said Hohenheim with a heavy sigh. "You've always been too stubborn for your own good."

"Look, do you know anything about what they're trying to pull off here? If I know what I'm looking for, it'll be a lot easier to make logical conclusions about where I might find it," asked Ed impatiently.

"I know they've been trying to interpret the research they stole from you, for starters. They're also trying to restart my own research, which is why they brought me here and not to one of the other labs," answered Hohenheim, and Ed indulged in a fit of cursing. "Talk to some of the other scientists upstairs. Most of them are here because their families are being threatened. They're as much hostages as I am. Some of them have been here for years under duress. If you can find a way to keep their families safe, I don't doubt they'll jump at the chance to help you."

"Old man, just hang tight here. By the time I'm done, the guards will be knocked out or tied up, and this door will be locked from the inside. By the time the cops come in, all of the electronic locks will be disabled. I'll leave you a device that will give the locks enough juice to open once per jolt. The cops know to come to you to gain access to the rest of the doors, so they'll come here first," Ed explained hurriedly. Ed pulled another curved metal bar out of the bag, but this one was split in the middle and had a weird cage wrapped around a keypad that had been placed to one side of that split. There was just enough room between the copper bars of the cage to allow someone access to the keypad.

"A Faraday Cage?" asked Hohenheim, watching as Ed bolted the split bar over the door.

"It'll protect the lock. Speaking of which," Ed dug an orange box out of the black bag and set it on the ground beside his father. "Don't open that box until the cops get here. There'll be a flashlight, a communication device that links only to my private network, and the device which will allow the cops to open the other doors. I taped the instructions to the device. I dumbed them down a lot, but you may still need to interpret them for the cops. I highly doubt any of them are fluent in Nerd. The lock on your door is an eight-digit keypad. The key is the one day I won't ever let you forget." Hohenheim thought about that for a moment than winced and nodded. Roy couldn't help but wonder what day that would be, but knew that now wasn't the time to ask.

Ed opened the lock so they could leave, telling his father how to lock the door behind them. He left without another backward glance – so much for father-son reunions. The ground crew went up and down the hallway, checking all of the rooms and making sure to catch pictures of everything that was even vaguely evidence-like. Once they'd done all they could on that floor, they finally returned to the elevator. However, this time they used a bit more caution and made sure they were all plastered to the sides before the doors opened.

It was good that they did, because as soon as the doors opened, shots rang out hitting the back of the elevator. Some of the bullets ricocheted dangerously before Ed could toss out their last smoke bomb then hit the button to close the elevator door. Since they'd known they were expected, it had been easy enough to prepare a couple tricks in advance. "That's two more down, and the last guy is in the room with the scientists. But I warn you, he's a big 'un," Breda told Ed, and Ed nodded.

"Then let's wrap this up," he said and opened the elevator door. This time, they were met with the sounds of men crying out piteously, and Havoc and Paninya rushed out to knock out then tie up their victims. "I think these next two floors are going to be Yahtzee, evidence-wise. So keep a sharp eye out. If anybody recognizes any of the scientists, don't keep it to yourself. We need info on them if we're going to talk them around."

"The scientists are in the last lab on the right, and the door is locked and barred by filing cabinets on the inside," Roy informed the team. Ed cursed in English and German interchangeably.

"Got any bright ideas, Science God?" asked Breda.

"I might be able to . . . nope, I got nothing," said Ed with a sigh, his shoulders slumping.

"I've got this," chimed in Sig, drawing all of their eyes to him in surprise. "Just get the lock open, Brat, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Roger that," said Ed, his grin apparent in his eyes though the mask covered all other evidence of his fit of glee.

Ed took care of the lock, and Sig went through the door like a bulldozer. The scientists all yelled and screamed and scattered, trying to get out of the way of the unstoppable force that had burst through the door. Once on the other side, he came face-to-face with a man that was easily his equal in size and breadth, and that's when two mountains crashed together. While Sig had the guy entirely focused on their contest of strength, Ed and Izumi slid into the room on either side of the mammoth men. They moved to stand behind the immense guard and jumped up as if to attack. Faster than should have been possible, the powerful guard disengaged and swept the two fighters aside, swatting them like insects. That sweep of his arm was strong enough to send both Ed and Izumi flying, Izumi landing atop Ed in an ungainly tangle of limbs.

Sig was having none of it. The guard had hit his beloved wife, and Sig was apparently intent on making damn sure the guy never got a chance for a repeat performance. Sig let loose on the guard like the wrath of God – or the Gates of Hell. The guard was scary fast, but Sig was as implacable as the mountain he resembled – and he was pissed. The problem was that the guy just would not go down. Sig hit him over and over again, but the guy just would not fall. Finally, Ed ran over and snatched Havoc's gun from him, turning and firing repeatedly at the burly guard. It took four shots before the guy finally succumbed to the electric shocks then Ed added one more to grow on, and Sig was able to get in a last few hits to the guard's head. At long last, Goliath went down with a huge thud.

Unfortunately, zip ties were not going to be enough to rope this guy, so Ed had to improvise. He used the zip ties first – they were barely long enough to go around the guard's massive wrists – but then he took two of his curved bars and clamped them around the guy's enormous arms, bolting them together. The bars wouldn't work as shackles on their own, for obvious reasons, but they'd do just fine to keep the guy from getting enough leverage to break the zip ties. Not too surprisingly, the guy had no weapons, but he didn't really need any. The guy was a weapon.

Ed and the team turned to the scattered scientists, placing Sig at the door to make sure nobody got away. "You, I know you," said Ed suddenly, removing his goggles and peering more closely at a scruffy blond middle-aged man with hollow cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. "You did a lecture over at Central U a couple years back on the relationship between plant proteins and inert minerals. Nash Tringham, right? You probably won't remember me, but if you recognize me, please don't say my name out loud."

"How could I forget you?" asked the man with a tired chuckle. "Your eyes are very distinctive, and you were so outspoken and inquisitive, and so young. You're only a year older than my oldest son and already so far along in your studies. It was quite the shock. But what on Earth are you doing here?"

"That's sort of a long story," began Ed sheepishly. "Ouroboros took somebody important to my brother. I'm here to get the evidence I need to ensure that once he's freed, he stays free. We have plans within plans in place. When I'm done with them, Ouroboros won't have the clout to cover their sins anymore. I get the feeling that you're here because of your sons. Am I right?"

"Yes," replied Tringham, head bowed in defeat. "Their mother is gone. They're all I have left in the world. I can't let anything happen to them. I just can't. But if you . . . if you can guarantee that they'll be safe, I'd do anything, anything at all."

"Good, that's what I was hoping to hear," said Ed, his smile apparent in his voice. "Yo, Sexy, you got Dr. Tringham pulled up yet? He won't be in the model, but if you type his name into the search box you should be able to pull up his employment records, background checks, and anything else. Then you just have to click the little skeleton holding the flag in the corner of the screen. That'll feed the data pulled up in the search into the model. You'll do that with whoever else we can get names on too. We need to get the info so I can round up their families when we leave here. We can move them to the Old Coot's safe house until we get the all clear from the cops."

"Dude, we need to have a talk about your naming sense," said Breda, shaking his head.

"Why? You knew who I was talking about, didn't you?" countered Ed, unrepentant.

"Yeah, but I'm not calling him Sexy," said Sig, and Ed, Paninya, Izumi, and Al all burst out laughing, the four of them all but guffawing. Serious situation aside, Ed almost had to sit down he was laughing so hard. The scientists just looked horrified or puzzled.

"Ugh, if I laugh any harder, I'm gonna pee my pants!" exclaimed Paninya.

"The last thing we need to do is feed his ego," added Riza, though Roy could swear he heard a tiny chuckle out of the impassive blonde sharpshooter.

"Fine, we'll call him Pyro since he's that too," said Ed, dashing a tear from his eye. "That was great. Hah, I needed that. All right crew, listen up. We're running out of time and we still need footage of the research. Let's get on it. We're burning daylight. Dr. Tringham, can you point me toward anybody else working here who might have people that'll need protecting? I need to know so my control tower can find them and get them laying low while we finish off Ouroboros."

With Dr. Tringham's help, they were able to identify those scientists who were there involuntarily, Izumi and Paninya pulling them aside to have a quiet conversation with them about their options. Those who were there for the money were given two options: turn state's evidence or go to jail for a very long time. It didn't take the greedy bastards long to figure out which was the lesser of the two evils, especially with Sig breathing down their necks and Ed giving them his hard-eyed glare.

Once they had the scientists squirreled away in the same room as Hohenheim, Tringham walked Ed and his team through the labs, pointing out which experiments were which, where the notes could be found, and which scientists were assigned to what research. He was even able to help Ed find his own stolen notes. Roy could tell just from Ed's body language that Ed was fighting tooth and nail not to just grab his notes and shove them in the bag. It was probably killing him to leave them behind, knowing that once they became "evidence" he most likely wouldn't see them again until after the trial. But he did finally force himself to turn away, making sure that these bastards would be caught red-handed with the stolen goods – which is not to say that he wasn't muttering curses under his breath for the rest of the time they were exploring the labs.

When they were sure they'd seen everything they needed to see, Ed started to gather the team to make their escape when Tringham stopped them. "There's something else," said Tringham uneasily. "I don't know if it actually is anything, but you seem to be pretty good at getting into places you're not supposed to be able to get into. There's a door at the end of the hall on the bottom-most level. I thought at first it was another storage closet, since that's mostly what we use that floor for, storage and such. Nobody goes in that door except the CEO and some older gentleman in a lab coat. It could be something. It could be nothing. All I know is that storage cupboards don't usually warrant locks that fancy, and CEO's don't usually descend from on high for just any old thing. So either something's in there or something was in there. Either way, it might be worth a look."

"Gotcha, and thanks. You really helped us out," said Ed sincerely. "We'll make sure your boys are safe. You know how to reach me when the cops are done with you, and I'll let you know where you can meet up with your boys."

They made sure to deposit Tringham in the same cell as the others then headed for what would be their last stop before leaving. Roy reminded Ed of the amount of time remaining for them to complete their operation – time which was quickly running out. Ed promised that they'd make it, but wouldn't be swayed from at least checking up on Tringham's tip. They found the door with relative ease, but it presented two problems. Problem one: the door wasn't on the blue prints or the 3D model, so they had no way of knowing what was on the other side – no cameras or other sensors for them access, either. They'd be going in entirely blind. Problem two: the security on the door itself was nothing to sneeze at. If anything, these problems just made Ed more determined to get into the room and see what was hidden there.

It took both Ed and Paninya to figure out the door, and the pair shared a high-five as soon as they got it, the door sliding to one side like a door on Star Trek. The party entered cautiously, the two armed combatants taking the vanguard with their guns cocked and loaded and held at the ready. There was a short set of stairs, and when they reached the bottom, the party all froze. Arrayed before them was a series of . . . the only word Roy could think describe them was cells. They looked like hospital rooms – white walls, single bed with white sheets and pastel blankets, machines and medical equipment all around the head of the bed – but the front of each room was a glass wall like exhibits in a zoo. There were twelve of them altogether, all of them occupied, a couple of the occupants little more than children.

Beside each cell was an intercom with a clipboard hanging right below it. Ed was trembling as he approached the nearest cell, its occupant a woman who looked to be in her early twenties but short and slender, almost pixie-like and wearing scrub pants and a plain white t-shirt. She got out of her bed at Ed's approach and stepped up to glass to look him over critically then she reached over and pushed the button on the intercom. "Who the hell are you guys?" she demanded, the intercom making her voice crackle through Ed's mic.

"We're here to make it possible for the cops to rescue you guys," Ed told her simply. "The cops will be here in a few minutes. I'm just here so they don't have to deal with pesky things like guards and tight security. You're gonna be all right, now."

"I've heard that before," she snorted. Ed picked up the clipboard and quickly read each page, making sure to point his camera at it. He was halfway through the various notes when he suddenly dropped the clipboard. A second later he fell to his knees and curled forward, panting heavily.

"What's wrong?!" cried Roy, alarmed.

"Hey! Get it together! You're almost out of time! Get out of there first, and you can freak out when you get back to the van okay?" insisted Breda. Izumi knelt beside Ed, and put a comforting hand on his back before picking up the clipboard and scanning every page so they would have it recorded. The others did the same with the other clipboards and reassured the cells' occupants that rescue was on its way while Sig and Izumi worked on getting Ed calmed down. Roy watched it all, feeling entirely helpless and wishing with every fiber of his being that he could be there to wrap Ed in his arms.

Izumi and Sig finally got Ed moving and the party rushed out the door and up the stairs, collecting Riza along the way. They all jumped into their respective vehicles, not even bothering to be stealthy anymore. As soon as everybody was in their seats, the van took off in a squeal of tires, following the route Ed had determined for them in advance. "All right, little brother, fire up Emma," said Ed, his voice a bit ragged as yanked off his mask and hat. Everybody else did the same, turning off the ear-cams and mics. There was a sudden boom then abruptly all the facility's cameras that they had been monitoring blacked at once.

"What the hell was that?!" demanded Breda, and everybody in the van shared the same sentiment.

"Emma is the name of our homemade EMP cannon," explained Ed tiredly. "It'll take out their vehicles, disable their surveillance, and make the doors and elevators inoperable. I couldn't leave my code in place to block communications indefinitely – 30 minutes is the limit on that – but I couldn't risk word getting to Ouroboros of what we did. I don't want them to have time to do damage control. Even if the guards manage to cut themselves loose, they ain't going anywhere, anytime soon. The evidence, criminals, and captives will stay protected until the cops can do their thing. That's why the lock I put on Hohenheim's door has a Faraday Cage around it, to protect it from the EM pulse. The box I gave Hohenheim is also a Faraday Cage, and inside is a device that will give each lock just enough juice that the cops can get the doors open as needed. The cops know to go to Hohenheim's cell first for that reason. The pulse was calibrated to only effect a small area. Collateral damage will be minimal. Everybody's alive, and in a few minutes all hostages will be freed. Speaking of hostages, what do we have on the people those bastards are threatening to get the scientists to comply?"

"Breda is still running the data. As soon as we meet up with Maes, we can see what info he can dig up. He's freakishly good at this sort of thing," Roy reassured him. "But what about you? What was it you saw on that clipboard that freaked you out so bad?"

"Those bastards . . ." growled Ed, his hands clenching into fists in his lap. "Those bastards have been trying to reproduce my experiment. The difference is that they're skipping steps . . . they're testing the enzyme on humans. It isn't anywhere near ready for human trials. The projected side-effects are still . . . too fucking much for a human to tolerate. Worse, they gave that woman a degenerative disease just so they'd have something for the enzyme to work on. Hell only knows what they did to the others. But that woman is dying now just to test my unfinished fucking drug!"

"Dear God," whispered Roy, completely floored by the revelation. "Is there anything that can be done to help her?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Ed, running his hand through his bangs. He looked like he was almost in tears. "The disease that woman had is in its early stages. It can be treated. But she's never going to be completely all right. It's more important than ever now that I complete my research. Those people didn't ask to become living experiments. That woman doesn't deserve to die like that, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let her die."

"For now, let's get finish taking down Ouroboros then we can work on cleaning up the mess they left behind," said Roy, grabbing Ed's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Ed gave him a wan smile then closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Don't worry. It'll all be over soon."