Chapter Six

Meanwhile, the two sisters had wandered far from the path and each other.

- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"

Nina hummed absently to herself as she pulled on her military uniform, still stiff and new and uncomfortable, at the foot of her bed in the hotel room. She wondered if she would ever get used to wearing it. It caught in all the wrong places, tight around the elbows yet loose around the stomach, and she wished she could just forego it like her father.

"You seem happy this morning," Trisha remarked huskily behind her, still yawning and rubbing her eyes. "Thinking about work today?"

Nina snorted. "Oh, right," she said sarcastically as she buckled her silver watch onto her belt. "The paperwork makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"There are perks to the job, you know," Trisha said, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Nina chose not to reply, knowing where Trisha was headed. Even so, she had to turn her back to hide the silly grin that crept up onto her face as the form of Maes Mustang swam before her eyes, smiling handsomely.

"So," Trisha continued slyly, brushing out the tangles in her wavy hair, "when are you going to tell him?"

"Don't be stupid," Nina snapped, the smile slipping off her face. She glanced over at her sister and wondered why she had ever wanted to cut her hair short instead of keeping it long like Trisha's. She also wondered why she had been the one to inherit their father's golden irises; it was such an ugly color, nothing like the glittering blue of Trisha's eyes. Nina heaved a sigh, but Trisha wasn't finished yet.

"Maybe you could write him a letter or something, telling him of your ardent passion." Trisha sighed romantically, clasping her hairbrush against one cheek.

"Shut up," Nina muttered, heat rising in her cheeks.

"Dearest Maes," Trisha fantasized, ignoring Nina. "I have long desired to tell you what burns inside me, but have been unable to summon the courage until this moment. However, our love cannot be held in check by-"

"I said, shut up!" Before Nina even realized what she was doing, she took two steps towards her sister, balled her fist, and punched Trisha in the face as hard as she could.

Trisha's hairbrush fell from her hand to clatter on the floor; the sound seemed incredibly loud in the sudden silence. Nina held her clenched fist in the air, staring with shock into her sister's equally shocked eyes. Then Trisha turned abruptly and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind herself with a snap.

Nina and Trisha did not speak all the way to Headquarters. The walk that was already long enough seemed to stretch on forever without Trisha chattering away, either complaining about their fellows or laughing about them. Nina found that even thoughts of the Lieutenant Colonel couldn't interest her for long. She was uncomfortably aware of the large red bump on Trisha's cheek, glaring its silent accusation at her. But Trisha didn't mention it, neither in anger nor forgiveness, so Nina decided it was probably best not to bring it up. At any rate, she wasn't going to talk about it before Trisha did! But the overcast sky growled with distant thunder, giving voice to the words their sullen silence didn't say.

When Nina opened the office door, she was greeted by the smell of tea and a pile of envelopes thrust into her arms. Dirk called out cheerily, "Good morning, and sort this mail!" He turned to Trisha and said, "And you can get me some tea," as though this was a special privilege only given to a lucky few.

"Get it yourself," Trisha snapped. "It wouldn't kill you to walk down the hall every now and then!" With those words ringing in their ears, she swivelled and stomped right out the door again, presumably to fetch her paperwork.

Dirk scratched his blond head. "What's with her?" he asked the room at large, but received no answer. Mustang had yet to arrive, Fuse was already feverishly at work, Bones was busily sharpening a pencil, and Nina hunched her shoulders over the stack of mail so she wouldn't have to meet anyone's eyes. Seeing he would get no response, Dirk shrugged and left the room to follow Trisha's advice and get his own tea.

Nina suppressed a sigh as she mechanically sorted the mail into separate piles for each of them. She and Trisha hardly ever got mail, since their father was in Central as well, and they received weekly phone calls from their mother, but the men were always swamped with letters or notes of one kind or another. Near the end of the pile, she found a magazine called 'Gardening for the Expert,' which was covered with pictures of flowers of all types. Confused, she looked on the back cover to see who it was for.

For a moment, she was certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. Or maybe she hadn't gotten enough sleep last night. Surely, those typed letters couldn't spell Garth A. Bones. "Er...Bones...is this yours?" she asked the large man hesitantly, holding up the magazine.

Bones looked up, and his face instantly brightened. "Thank you!" he cried fervently, as though she had just pulled him from a flooded river. Taking the magazine reverently into his large hands, he gushed, "I've been looking forward to this issue for weeks! Ever since I first started my garden, I've been wanting to sculpt hedges!" So saying, he buried himself among the floral pages of his magazine, leaving Nina to blink at him, feeling dazed. She glanced around at the others, but they were hard at work as though this was an everyday occurrence, pens scratching away like hens busily foraging for food. After a moment, Nina returned to her work as well, thinking, Well, at least I know why he smells like lilac now.

Half an hour later, Trisha returned to the office with the paperwork it usually took only a few minutes to retrieve. Nina kept her head down, so she didn't notice how red-eyed her sister was. After a while, though, Nina realized something else was out of place. "Where's Lieutenant Colonel Mustang?"

Fuse spared a glance at the clock. "He was called in for an early meeting with General Gladstone."

Nina's heart leapt to her throat. "You don't think he's...?"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and shared dark looks; none of them had been completely convinced by the Fuhrer's assertions that the General and his Wolf Brigade were trustworthy. This would be the perfect chance for Gladstone to get the Lieutenant Colonel out of the way, Nina thought, suppressing a shudder of fear.

"He told us he could handle it," Dirk said, his expression clearly stating he didn't believe a word of it. "He said, 'I'll keep my eyes open, and I'm a pretty good shot, if I do say so myself.'"

Bones shook his head, picking up his pen once more. "One of these days, that arrogance of his is going to get him in a very tight spot."

"But it won't be today," said a familiar voice as their superior officer strode into the room. Everyone immediately stood and saluted, and Lieutenant Colonel Mustang returned the salute with an assuring smile. "The General has informed me that the Sect's store of weapons has been discovered." He nodded as they all murmured in interest. "We're being sent to take it out. This is a very important mission, men. We cannot afford to fail. And...keep your eyes open. There's no telling what might happen."

It seemed Mustang didn't completely trust Gladstone either.

Nina was practically quivering with excitement and nerves. Lieutenant Colonel Mustang had been given an extra squad of men besides his subordinates for this mission, and everyone – even she and Trisha – had been given rubber bullets for their guns. "The Fuhrer insists on not using real bullets when facing the Sect," Fuse had explained, handing the two of them a pistol each. "Says he doesn't want anyone killed or seriously injured. Unfortunately, the Sect are using real bullets, so try not to get hurt, okay?"

"Yeah," Dirk had chimed in, ruffling both golden heads at the same time. "I, for one, would feel really terrible if we let two kids like you get hurt."

Tapping her foot and pretending to be offended, Trisha had said, "You know, technically I'm your superior."

"Oops! Well, just stay safe, Cornerstone, ma'am."

Now, as they stood at an intersection not far from their destination, all levity was absent from their party. Not a single smile showed itself in the small crowd of blue-clad men. Nina felt conspicuous standing next to Trisha, the two of them the only females in the group, and the only ones to wear anything besides the uniform. Nina began to wonder if it might have been wiser to leave their bright red coats behind this time, but then Mustang began giving out orders and there was no time to think about anything else.

"You four, scout ahead! The rest, surround the building in question and cut the enemy off from it. Fuse, set up your radio at this junction. Solid Stone, Cornerstone!" he barked at last. "You will infiltrate the building itself when we have drawn the Sect out – at my signal. Ensure the building is empty, then seal off all entrances completely with your alchemy." He turned to the group at large and said, "Let's move out!"

Everyone started forth to the positions Mustang specified, four men breaking off to scout ahead and Fuse turning to the side to set up his radio equipment. The clatter of military-issue boots seemed unbearably loud in the eerily empty street. The pistol filled with rubber bullets was heavy on Nina's belt, a strange weight she had no desire to become accustomed to. The chalk in her hand was so light by comparison.

The Sect's armory was only a few streets down. It was a rather unimpressive building: a run-down, abandoned grocery store. A neon sign reading 'Open' hung lopsidedly in the window, no longer glowing, and beneath it sat an ancient cardboard sign announcing 'Apples, 10 cenz apiece'. Barely had the first soldiers begun to move around the corners of the building when men in civilian clothes came rushing out to meet them. Nina barely had time to wonder whether they had known there would be so many people, and whether it was just paranoia to think that the Sect seemed to have expected them, when the sound of gunfire rang out. Mustang barked out orders while calmly shooting one Sect member's leg and another's gun arm, causing all he hit to drop to the ground in pain. It seemed he hardly had to look where his innocent little pistol was pointing; he hit his target each time with amazing precision.

Amidst the confusion and cacophony of battle, Nina watched Mustang out of the corners of her eyes, both to admire his skill and to wait for his signal. In the meantime, she ducked around blue-clad men, transmuting the walls of adjacent buildings in the attempt to trap the Sect men as before. But this time, soldiers were mixed up with them as well, and a simple cage wouldn't work as it had before. Besides, after a few minutes she realized that more and more men seemed to come pouring from all sides. They would have surrounded the soldiers, but a bit of quick chalkwork from Trisha sent them racing away from a few simple man-sized stone hands.

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang ducked behind one of these hands for cover, and as Nina was darting past, she heard him shout to Dirk, who had just rushed up, "What do you mean, Fuse isn't there?!"

Nina couldn't hear Dirk's answer over an extra-loud flurry of gunshots, but when she ducked under the stone hand Trisha was kneeling behind, she turned to look back at Mustang. He looked harried, but then his gaze fell on her and he gritted his teeth. Holding his hand up in the air, he snapped his fingers.

"The signal!" Nina cried to Trisha, darting from her cover and dodging through the confusion of fighting men. Once they made their way into the building, Nina breathed a sigh of relief. It was quieter in there, and apparently deserted. She opened her mouth to say something to Trisha, remembered they weren't speaking to each other, and moved off on her own, frowning.

The building still had the air of a grocery store (Nina almost thought she could smell the produce), but all the food and household goods had been replaced with crate upon crate of guns, grenades, ammunition... "Where'd they get all this stuff?" she wondered aloud, rummaging through a crate she had found sitting open. Taking out a rifle and turning it over in her hands, she saw, emblazoned clearly on the butt, the military insignia. Nina gasped, her hands flying to open more crates, and in each one the results were the same. The Sect was using the military's own weaponry.

"All right, drop your weapons and put your hands on your head."

Nina gasped and looked up; a large man stood over her, pointing a machine gun at her. Seeing no way out of it, she threw up her hands, her stick of chalk clattering onto the floor. The man warily advanced, keeping his eyes on her.

Then Trisha slid towards him from where she had hidden out of sight, aiming for his legs and tripping him up. With a yell, the man fell as his legs were pushed out from under him. Nina wasted no time in grabbing her chalk again, and the two sisters transmuted a nearby empty metal shelf into a chain which wrapped around the man's arms, pinning them to his sides. The man gritted his teeth in fury and struggled against the chains, but he could only make them rattle against each other.

Trisha crossed over and picked up the man's gun, glancing down at the insignia that had obviously suffered a crude attempt at removal. "Military," she said softly.

"Yeah," Nina returned, feeling awkward. Then, remembering their orders, she began to move throughout the large building, closing off every window and door.

Trisha did the same, moving in the opposite direction, but after a minute or so Nina heard her say sharply, "We have to get out of here."

Nina whirled around and saw, down at the end of the aisle, the chained man hunched in a corner, the chains pushed up his arms far enough to allow limited movement. Nina started towards him, but Trisha, who was closer, whirled around and started running towards the nearest unsealed exit. "Just leave him! He's-"

"No, we have to-"

"Nina, get out of here now!"

Before Nina could protest further, Trisha grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her at a run towards the door. They were nearly there when a small explosion knocked them off their feet. Nina threw her arms over her head as more explosions followed the first, gaining in strength each time. Presently, she became aware that Trisha was crouched over her protectively. "We have to get out of here!" she shouted over the noise.

Nina tried to agree with her, but the next explosion cut off her words. Instead, she grabbed Trisha's hand, and the two of them dove for the door several hundred yards away, flinging it open and racing out into an alleyway. The next explosion seemed to rock the entire world, and Nina thought she could hear a wall collapsing nearby. Finally, though, the noise gave way to relative silence. She could hear men barking orders nearby, but there were no more explosions, no more gunshots.

"You idiot!" Trisha shrieked, punching Nina on the arm. "Why didn't you get out of there when I told you to?!"

Nina's anger blazed up. "Well, you conveniently neglected to mention that he was setting up a bomb!"

"I was trying to tell you, but you kept-"

"What happened, you two?" came a familiar voice. The sisters looked up to find Dirk coming towards them. Other than a nasty cut above one eye, he looked unscathed.

"There was a bomb in there," Trisha announced. "The guard in there set it off."

Dirk shrugged. "Well, at least they won't be able to use their weaponry any more, I guess. Everything that was in there is gone now. Come on, the fighting's over."

As the two of them hurried to follow him out of the alleyway, Nina remembered the insignia on the guns and started to tell Dirk, but when they stepped out of the alley the words died in her throat. Men were lying all over the ground. Some groaned, clutching an appendage or struggling to get up, but others were chillingly still. Most were Sect members, but there were men in military blue as well. A putrid stench lay heavy on the air, and Nina realized with horror that it was the smell of blood and dying bodies. She wondered if she was going to be sick.

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang standing and giving orders was a wonderfully familiar sight. Nina hurried over in time to hear the soldier that had just run up to him say, "Sir! Sergeant Bones is requesting your presence."

"Where is he?" Mustang asked. As the soldier pointed Bones out, Mustang nodded to Nina and Trisha, beckoning them to follow him. As they walked, he muttered, "Things got a little out of hand here. The Fuhrer will not be pleased."

"Sir!" Nina said breathlessly. "The weapons in there – they all had the insignia of the military on them!"

"What?!" Mustang demanded, and after a moment he swore explosively. "Well, this day just gets better and better," he growled.

Bones was crouching over one of the many bodies littering the ground. When he heard them approaching, he looked up. Nina gasped; his normally stolid face was anguished, streaked with tears. "Sir..." he said in a trembling voice.

Nina looked at the man he was holding, and her heart went cold. He was in civilian clothes, but there was no mistaking that face she had become so familiar with. It was Fuse.

Mustang, Nina, and Trisha crouched down around him, and Dirk came rushing up as well. On closer inspection, Fuse was still alive, though the red stain on his shirt suggested he might not be for very long. He coughed weakly, his eyelids fluttering open and fixing immediately on Mustang. "Sorry...sir..." he whispered.

"Fuse!" Lieutenant Colonel Mustang grasped one of Fuse's hands.

Fuse's voice grew softer and softer as he spoke; everyone leaned in to catch his words. "June...24...Hom...un...culus..." Then his voice died away altogether, and he sagged in Bones's arms, his eyes wide and staring.

Nina pressed her hand against her lips, trying to stop their trembling, but her eyes filled with tears anyway. She barely registered the words he had said as she stared at his lifeless body. She watched, as though from a great distance, Bones tearfully closing Fuse's eyes, Dirk hunching his shoulders as though he was cold, and Mustang bowing his head over the hand he still held. Much closer to home, Nina felt a warm hand close about her own. Trisha was crying too.

Nina slowly dragged her feet up the carpeted staircase of the hotel. She felt tired and worn, both physically and emotionally. Once they had returned to Headquarters, Lieutenant Colonel Mustang had gone to inform Fuse's family of what had happened, and had returned looking old and tired. There had been a lot of paperwork waiting for them back at the office, but for once none of them had complained. They hadn't spoken much either, until Mustang said quietly, "The funeral's on Saturday." Then they had all fallen silent once more.

Nina sighed, rummaging around in her pocket for the key to their room. She realized numbly that her chalk was gone, lost somewhere in the confusion of all the explosions. I'll have to get my spare, she thought vaguely as she stuck the key in the lock and turned it, letting herself into the room.

Trisha lay on her side on top of the covers of her bed, staring straight ahead as she had been when Nina had left her. Nina softly closed the door, kicked off her shoes, and padded over to her sister on the rough hotel carpet. The ugly red mark on Trisha's cheek stared up at her, looking even more painful than it had that morning. Nina hesitated, then lifted the bag of ice in her hand and gently laid it on the red bump.

Trisha started at the sudden cold, then relaxed when she saw what it was. Putting up a hand to hold it there, she whispered, "Thanks."

Nina sat on the floor, her back pressed up against the wall by the head of Trisha's bed. The two of them were silent for several minutes, but then Trisha softly asked, "Nina...if I died...what would you do?"

Nina looked up in surprise, and saw that Trisha's eyes were closed, her lip trembling ever so slightly. Nina looked away again and thought the question over. Finally, she replied, "I guess...I'd miss you so much that I...I'd want to bring you back."

Trisha sniffed. Without looking, Nina reached over and grasped her little sister's hand tightly. The two of them stayed that way for a long time.