Chapter 8
The Raid
Winry ambled out of the makeshift boardroom, as usual several steps behind the Dissident officials.
"I think they may be close to giving in," Roy remarked, watching the military brass leave.
"Thank God," Winry sighed, massaging a stiffened muscle in her neck. "I swear, I am so close to smashing their heads together just to see if anything rattles around in there..."
"Can I help?" Envy asked, looking delighted at the prospect of violence.
Winry cuffed him lightly on the side of his head.
"So you're making progress?" Al supplied, looking positively ecstatic on her behalf.
"Slowly but surely," Winry grinned.
It had been several days since Winry's breakdown, and if he hadn't witnessed it himself Ed could have sworn it had never happened. She seemed as steely and as confident as ever. But sometimes, when she looked at him or at Al, her face would soften slightly and a strange light would come into her eyes. That was when he knew it hadn't been some sort of hallucination or crazy dream. She remembered it too.
It spoke volumes of the trust she placed in both brothers that she had allowed it to happen at all. Ed was under no delusions – Winry had broken down back there because she had wanted to. Some part of her had known it was alright, had known that she was safe with them, in every sense of the word. If anyone else had been with her...Ed suspected they would never have known anything was wrong.
Because that was what Winry did. While he and Al had never made any real effort to hide what they were feeling (and even if they did, they weren't very good at it) Winry might be the best actor he had ever seen. It seemed inconceivable that she could smile and joke and laugh with the others after what she had confessed to them. It seemed impossible she could have borne that pain for all those years without ever breaking.
But Winry had always hidden pain behind a mask of joy. He remembered seeing her point a gun at Scar so many years ago and realising how much sorrow she was still carrying with her. It had been a startling realisation – that Winry could hide such things so well, bury them so deeply, that not even he or Al could see them.
It was the way she dealt with her parents' death, the way she dealt with all that been forced on her and everything she had been forced to do. It was the only thing Winry could do to remain functioning. And now that she'd released some of the pain that she had held inside for so long...she could only get better.
Winry felt Ed's gaze on her, and hid a fond smile. He and Al had been wonderfully discrete, never bringing up her breakdown, not even when they were alone. She was glad they weren't going to push her; she wasn't sure she was entirely comfortable with another soul-baring discussion – they took a lot out of her. She hadn't cried like that since...well, ever.
It seemed all three had reached a silent, unspoken agreement. Winry would talk more when she was ready, but until then, all parties involved would act as though it had never happened.
"Good going, Commander," Breda suddenly barked as a laugh, clapping Winry on the shoulder. The gesture was companionable, but still had an aura of respect about it.
Al saw the momentary blankness flicker in Winry's eyes – the split-second tension that always quivered across her body when she was touched – before she seemed to realise Breda wasn't a threat. He had seen it before, and wondered about it, but it was only now he knew the reason behind it. He supposed anyone who had endured what Winry had endured would be wary of physical contact.
"How about a game of shogi?" Breda offered.
"No way!" Winry scoffed. "I was bent over a table matching wits with stuffy old men all day. What makes you think I want to do it again?"
"Oi! Watch who you're calling a stuffy old man!"
Winry grinned mischievously. "Just telling the truth. Shogi's out. How about a game of football?"
For a moment, Ed was sure he hadn't heard right. Winry had suggested they play football?
"I'm in!" Paninya yelled. "I call Envy!"
Winry sighed. "What do you say, Scar? Up to helping me teach these two a lesson?"
Scar shrugged. "As you wish, Vharla."
"You don't have to make it sound like I'm forcing you. You're perfectly capable of saying 'no'. Do you want to play, or not?"
"I said I am going to play, so I will." Scar's voice was bland, but Ed didn't think he was imagining the gleam of pleasure in his eyes.
"Anyone else?" Winry asked, looking around.
Looking at the current participants, Ed found himself thinking he wanted to sit this one out. He felt that this game would be far more entertaining from the sidelines.
oooooooo
"Envy, jump for it!"
"I got it! I got it!"
"Not for long!"
Ed leaned back against the wall and reflected that he had been right – this game was more entertaining from the sidelines. It wasn't quite football, but it had many of the same basic rules.
Envy had leapt for the ball, but now he had to deal with Winry charging at him like a runaway train. He dodged nimbly, but Winry changed directions practically in mid-air, snatching the ball from his grip.
Winry landed on the ground in a cat-like crouch and surged forward, making for the small bin at the end of the courtyard that served as the goal. Paninya shot after her, but was intercepted by Scar, the Ishbalan using his massive bulk as a physical blockade.
Winry slammed the ball into the bin and then spun on the spot, gyrating madly in an impromptu victory dance.
"Awesome work, Scar," she crowed. "We rock! You guys suck!"
"Screw you," Envy muttered.
"Buy me dinner first," Winry tossed back, grinning broadly at his obvious resentment.
"Laugh now," Paninya grumbled, retrieving the ball and setting it down in the centre of their makeshift playing field. "Envy and I shall triumph eventually!"
"I'm hearing a lot of talk there, Pan," Winry smiled, "Let's go!"
"Bring it on!"
Scar seized the ball in the rush, hurling it towards Winry. Winry leapt neatly, catching it with ease and rocketing off towards the goal. Envy sprinted after her, his inhuman speed catching up to her in seconds. Winry squealed as Envy swept her into his arms, spinning on his heel then charging down the field towards the opposite goal, carrying both the ball and Winry.
"Envy, put me down!" Winry shrieked.
She could have extricated herself with ease, but knew no way to pull herself from his grip that wouldn't hurt him (the people running Angel's Nest weren't exactly fans of the non-violent resistance) and so submitted to his manhandling with a rueful smile. As expected, when Envy reached the goal, instead of dropping the ball into the bin, he dumped Winry herself into the receptacle.
Winry cursed playfully, floundering upright. Envy had ensured she tumbled in without pain or injury, and while she found his concern touching she wasn't about to let him know that. Instead, she threw the football at his head in retaliation. Envy caught it effortlessly and moved to set it down in the centre once more.
"No hard feelings, Pidgeon?"
"Stop with that stupid nickname," Winry growled, but there was no real rancour in her voice.
The moment was broken by a deafening shout that sounded from the building. "We have an emergency!"
The game was instantly forgotten. Everyone whirled on the spot, muscles tense and veins flooding with adrenaline. Ed didn't know where Winry had hidden the knife, but the blade was in her hand in the space of a heartbeat. The blonde woman relaxed slightly upon seeing it was only Riza hurrying towards them.
"What happened?" she barked, her tone shifting in an instant from playful and laughing to hard and commanding.
"A squad stumbled upon a H-Faction encampment about twelve miles south-east of here," Riza reported automatically, years of military training conditioning her to respond to a voice that held such authority. "They say that it's small, but there are Dissident prisoners being held there.."
"Twelve miles south-east..." Winry murmured, "They're hiding in Black Glass Canyon! I thought we cleaned that place out!"
"Like cockroaches," Paninya hissed. "Can't step on them just once!"
"The Major General is going to attempt to liberate the prisoners," Riza continued. "And I thought that-"
"If we help, it might convince the Dissident brass we really are the good guys," Winry finished. "I like the way you think!"
"The Major General is reviewing the information now," Riza added helpfully.
"So if we were to just wander up to his office..." Winry supplied, smirking.
The courtyard was soon deserted, empty save for an abandoned football in the centre and two bins at opposite ends like guards protecting an empty kingdom.
oooooooo
"The squad managed to take these surveillance photos," Roy told them, tossing the small stack of Polaroids onto the desk.
As soon as Winry and Riza had explained their plan to ingratiate the Resistance and its Commander with the Dissident officials (besides him, of course, who was already won over on principal) he had been more than willing to share his information. After all, anything that got him out of another week of long-winded discussions in that stifling room was a good cause as far as he was concerned.
Winry scanned the photos, passing them to her people for inspection when she was done. Her eyes were calculating, as hard and sharp as a diamond-edged blade. She absorbed the information she needed like a dry sponge dropped into water, and Ed could see her formidable mind was already churning, already mapping out the details of a plan that would liberate the Dissident prisoners as she had liberated those oppressed in Rush Valley.
"Any ideas?" Roy asked as Winry passed the last photo into Paninya's metal fingers.
Winry's hand hovered over the rough map on the table like a hawk waiting to strike. "They rely on dogs to guard the gates here, here and here," she said, pointing at the appropriate places. "And that works to our advantage."
"Because no matter how well a dog is trained, it's not a soldier," Breda said. "What soldiers will regard as a threat isn't necessarily what dogs will regard as a threat."
"Breda's good with dogs," Winry informed the room at large.
Roy's eyes were measuring and more than a little puzzled. "I thought you...didn't like dogs."
Breda shrugged, but the line of his back had tightened. "There were a couple of dogs in the camp where they kept me. When I was trying to escape, I had to learn to interact with them."
Riza nodded slightly, remembering Breda's easy interaction with Black Hayate, of whom he had once been deathly afraid. Breda must have conquered his phobia of dogs in the camp so he could interact with the guard dogs, so they could grow accustomed to his presence and he might have been able to slip past them.
"But we aren't going to interact with these dogs for weeks," Roy pointed out, "We won't have time to gain the animal's confidence."
"I never said we would," Winry corrected. "But remember what Breda said, 'what soldiers will regard as a threat isn't necessarily what dogs will regard as a threat'. We won't walk through the gate...we'll tunnel under it. And while the dogs may not know what to make of the noises coming from the ground, it's unlikely they'll think them a threat in the same way a soldier would."
"But tunneling into the camp would take weeks!" Al exclaimed.
"Don't interrupt me," Winry said. "If we use alchemy, it'll take us an hour or so at most. We'll surface here-" she pointed to a small gap between the cell block and the storehouse. "And from there we have a line of sight to the barracks and the power station. If we blow them up with some tricky alchemy, that should be enough of a distraction to keep the guards busy for a while. Plant some men along the line of trees outside the camp, near the barracks, and with a few guns and a little alchemy they could set up a very convincing mock-attack. Then while the guards are busy dealing with the obvious threat, the group that tunneled in can break the prisoners out."
For a moment, Roy was stunned. He knew that as the Resistance Commander, Winry must have planned every battle and raid the Resistance was involved in, but it wasn't until this moment that he saw how skilled she actually was. She had glanced at a few photos and a map of the camp, identified the weak points in their defense and proceeded to lay out a plan exploiting said weaknesses.
Her eyes flared to bright sapphire as she scanned the map once more, searching out any detail she might have missed. She was cool, calm and level-headed, but at the same time he could sense the aching passion behind her words. The desire to free these prisoners – not only because it might help her people – but because she genuinely wanted to help them, because it was the right thing to do. It was a rare quality, rarer still to find it tempered with the calm professionalism Winry displayed. Roy could understand why the people in the Resistance – many of whom were twice Winry's age – would call her their leader.
"We should probably wait about an hour before heading off," Winry mused. "So when we actually arrive, it'll be dark enough to give us an advantage, but not so we lose each other in the night."
Then she shrugged and said diplomatically, "At least, that's my idea. Anyone got any others?"
Silence prevailed.
"I think...I think that's a good plan," Roy said at last. "We move out in an hour. Meet in this room."
Winry hopped to her feet. "Got it! Just one more thing; are we killing or capturing?"
"Capture would be preferable," Roy said quietly. Ed and Al looked surprised she would ask such a question, but the Major General knew the reason. The level of force you were expected to use affected everything from battle tactics to choice of weapons.
Winry nodded once, then breezed out the door with her comrades on her heels.
oooooooo
When he walked into Mustang's office an hour later, Ed was hard-pressed to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. He'd thought he'd seen every facet of this new Winry and her followers. But he'd never seen them ready for an all-out battle before.
They had traded their original jackets and pants for ones daubed with the outlandish camouflage pattern, and it was odd to see them in clothes other than the dark colours of the Resistance. Envy and Paninya were checking guns and slinging braces of ammunition across their bodies. Scar and Breda were bent over the map as though memorising every line. And Winry...
Winry was leaning against the wall with her arms folded, surveying their preparations with eagle-sharp eyes. She was wearing her black headband again, the white bisected circle of the Resistance displayed proudly on her forehead. She wore two gun belts – one at her waist and another at her shoulder – each holding a firearm and cartridges of ammunition. Another belt, this one holding several small throwing knives, was slung across her chest, and a nasty-looking dagger was tucked into a sheath at her hip. But what Ed found most surprising was that her wrist guards were no longer simple cloth, but soft leather encircling her forearms, each with a transmutation circle etched into its surface.
"Stop staring, you'll give me a complex."
Ed started. He hadn't even been aware Winry knew he was watching her.
"I was just wondering about that transmutation circle," he defended, his cheeks heating slightly.
Winry smiled, and brought her wrists together in mute demonstration. The transmutation circles touched, sparked...
And lightning crackled between Winry's fingers, arcs of electricity washing the room in white light for an instant before she fisted her hand and doused them.
The others looked in her direction for an instant, then relaxed once more.
"Electrical alchemy," Al breathed, having just entered behind Ed. "How...?"
"Some of the people held in H-Faction's camps were State Alchemists," Winry explained. "A lot of them used these kinds of shortcuts – like the Major General's gloves. A single gesture that produces a single type of alchemy. And electricity happens to be one of the most versatile."
Ed supposed that was true. After all, by varying the intensity Winry could go from merely stalling a car's engine to demolishing a building from afar.
The door opened abruptly, allowing Roy, Riza, Fuery and Armstrong to stride in. The Major General gave a cursory glance around the room, ensuring everyone was present.
"Anyone coming with us?" Winry asked.
"A small squad," Riza nodded. "Mainly to provide the distraction while we tunnel into the heart of the camp."
Winry sighed, air rushing out of her lungs in a swift stream. "Sounds good. Move out?"
"Move out," Roy affirmed.
The office was empty within ten seconds. Outside, in the sky above Central, the sun was already sinking towards the horizon.
oooooooo
"This is almost too easy," Roy smirked, watching as the guards rushed towards the demolished barracks and power station, bullets already beginning to rip through the air.
Armstrong and Scar were with the other group, their own particular brands of alchemy combining with the whizz of bullets to create a very convincing illusion of a serious attack.
"Where did Winry go?" Ed hissed urgently, looking around desperately while trying to stay hidden in the shadows at the same time.
"Don't have a heart attack, Fullmetal," Envy snorted. "Boss said she was going to get something to help us get into the cell block."
"And look what I found!" Winry sang out, materialising out of the night like a wraith.
There was something in her tone that made the hairs on the back of Ed's neck prickle. Something bitter and dangerous, menacing and cruel...
Ed then realised she was dragging a man behind her. She flung the figure to the ground in front of her and turned him over, planting her boot in his chest to keep him from rising.
"Who's-" Paninya started, but Winry cut her off.
"This is Dr. Hira."
"How do you know-"
"We've met before." The edge on Winry's voice could have sliced through a steel-plated diamond. "Haven't we, Doctor?"
This time, there was nothing child-like or enchanting about Winry's smile. This time, there was only black viciousness and raw hatred dripping from her face like blood from some hidden injury. The broken tooth didn't lend an urchin-like quality anymore; instead it made the expression somehow fiercer, more feral, like a wolf with a tattered ear.
Hira looked up and the blood drained from his face. "You..."
Winry's smile became, if possible, even more terrifying. "Me."
"You..." Hira stammered. "You..."
He seemed unable to say anything else. Winry sighed, and flicked her hair over her shoulder.
"Listen," she hissed. "We're getting the prisoners out, so we'd like your keys."
"I don't have-"
"I'm not stupid, Doctor," Winry's sarcastic drawl mocked the title. "I know you. I know your penchant for your experiments. And I know you'll have the keys."
"I don't have-"
"Don't fool yourself," Winry scoffed. "We don't actually need the keys – I can pick locks, after all. It's just that we're on a tight schedule and I would appreciate not having to jimmy every locked door open."
The man swallowed – there was something about Winry's bland tone that was very frightening – and said, "I don't have the keys."
"Fine," Winry sighed. "Envy, break him in half."
"What?" Hira yelped as Envy reached for him. "You can't-"
"Give us the keys, or spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair," Winry said flatly. "Your choice."
Hira couldn't get rid of the keys fast enough.
oooooooo
Even after the prisoners were freed, the guards subdued and captured, Ed still couldn't stop thinking about that moment. Would Winry really have let Envy torture that man? And how did Winry know him in the first place?
"Winry, don't!" came Paninya's shout.
Ed spun around. Winry was towering over the handcuffed Hira and she radiated barely-leashed fury. He hurried towards them automatically, and dimly noted that Roy, Riza, Fuery, Armstrong and Breda were doing the same.
"You were going to do it here, weren't you?" she spat, grabbing the man's collar and lifted him to his feet. Hira was actually taller than her, but the waves of sheer violent passion rolling off Winry and the look in her eyes made him cower away from her.
"You were going to create another Angel's Nest, weren't you?" Winry's voice rose in pitch, like a sword screaming through a hurricane.
"Angel's Nest?" Roy murmured. "Wasn't that where they trained the Angels of Death?"
"Exactly," Winry snarled. "And the good doctor here was planning on setting up another such camp here."
"I wouldn't-" Hira blustered, then stuttered to a halt as Winry's knife suddenly caressed his throat.
"Go ahead," Winry breathed, her voice tight. "Deny it. I dare you."
No one moved. Hira didn't so much as twitch. Looking at Winry holding her knife to the man's throat, Ed felt as though ice water was slithering down his spine. Fear welled in his throat like bile.
"Winry..." Al's voice was small. "There's no proof...how do you know he'll...?"
"Because he was one of the scientists at the original Angel's Nest!" Winry snapped, her eyes flashing blue fire.
And then, Ed and Al understood. This was one of the scientists who had turned Winry into an Angel of Death, who had made her into a killing machine.
No wonder she seemed inches away from ripping the man apart. And for a moment, Ed wondered if he should stop her. Didn't she have the right to visit justice upon the person who'd tortured her like that?
Winry's face was chillingly calm as she contemplated the man in front of her. "I should kill you here and now."
"No!" Paninya hissed, too low for anyone else to hear. "Winry, no!"
Winry stood in front of one of the men who had imprisoned her, tortured her, twisted her mind and soul for their own heinous purposes...and felt very...heavy. Her rage was beyond the hot flush of passionate fury, or even the icy anger of a vendetta. It was a weight, a weight pressing on every inch of her skin, making her chest heave with each breath, making her muscles tremble with something that felt like exhaustion.
"Winry, don't..." Paninya pleaded. "You're better than this! Don't let him win!"
She could kill him. Maybe she should kill him. She wanted to kill him. But...
'You're better then this!'
'Don't let him win!'
Desperate, pitiful clichés. Words that had been said dozens of times to dozens of people as their friends tried to persuade them not to kill.
But that didn't make them any less true. If she killed Hira now...Winry knew that would cross a line she'd drawn for herself a long time ago. If she killed this man...it would be the first time she killed because she wanted to. It would prove that she was just a killing machine.
And that wasn't a line Winry was willing to cross.
Ed was holding his breath, then released it in a sigh as Winry sheathed her knife and took a step back. But she suddenly touched her wrists together, and a bolt of lightning snaked from her hands to lance through Hira's body. The man screamed, his body curving in a vicious arc as the crackle of electricity and the scent of burning flesh filled the air.
Winry flicked her wrists, and the lightning vanished with a rush and a snap. Hira collapsed on the ground, convulsing and retching, wracked with agony.
"That was for one and a half years of my life!" Winry spat, then turned on her heel and strode away.
At least, she would have, if Roy hadn't seized her wrist. Winry's eyes flashed, and Roy had the sudden urge to remove his hand before Winry ripped it off.
But something told him this was very important.
"What was that about?" he asked in a low voice.
Had Winry been calmer, she would have yanked her wrist from his grip (and considering her mood, maybe added a move or two that would make him think twice before trying a such a stunt again) and just walked away. But she was feeling more than a little emotional, and rationality was a long forgotten landmark several miles back.
So she tore her arm from his grasp and yanked her left wrist guard off as she pulled the collar of her shirt down. She made sure he, Riza, Armstrong and Fuery could see the numbers tattooed on her wrist, and the transmutation circle inked into the centre of her chest.
"What was that about?" she echoed. "That was about a man responsible for ruining seventeen lives and nearly ruining mine."
Riza's breath seemed stuck in her throat. "How-?"
Winry's laugh was empty, brittle and bitter. "Haven't guessed yet? I was the eighteenth Angel of Death. I survived the massacre, I escaped from Angel's Nest...only to find that scum here," she jerked her head at Hira. "Trying to start another."
This time, when Winry walked away, no one made any move to stop her.
oooooooo
AN: Once again, thanks so much LaughingAstarael.