Pawn
Riza closed the door of the Fuhrer's private offices, locking it. She sat down at the long table next to Havoc and across from Fuery.
"As you all know, I received this letter from Edward two days ago. He'd written it and given it to Emperor Ling, in the instance that he die." Mustang was again holding the envelope with the wax seal. "However, the Emperor decided to deliver this letter himself. It is our shared belief that Edward is possibly alive, somewhere, and that someone wants him dead." The Fuhrer's team sharpened, the gears in their heads beginning to turn.
"So, in that case, let's let whoever that is continue believing that Edward is dead. Fuery, I want his death broadcast. I'm thinking a moment of silence for a national hero over radio? Try and keep his photo out of the paper. He will need all the anonymity we can grant him.
"Breda and Falman, we'd like a list of every noble family, especially with military ties who have funded or bought stocks in Amestrian war efforts. You will cross check these with a list from the Emperor's court, which will be provided by Lan Fan. I want to know if there is anything tying those two lists together." Lan Fan stepped forward, producing a thick manila file and presented it to Breda.
"Finally, Hawkeye and Havoc, I want loyal units in the Eastern border towns. I want units that specialize in discretion, under cover. I do not want any suspicion that we are looking for anything. Reports on my desk tomorrow please, dismissed."
The meeting room flew into a flurry of activity, Hawkeye and Havoc met at the door already deep in discussion. Breda had the manila folder open and was reading while Falman had slipped out the door, headed for copies of personnel files. Kain was on the phone talking to local radio outlets.
Roy watched the bustle make it's way out of his door, into the larger outer office. When he finally turned again to Ling there was a self satisfied glint in his eye.
"Imperial Highness, I believe it is time for you to return to your own court. We wouldn't want your absence to raise too many rumors."
"That we wouldn't, dear Fuhrer. I'll have Lan Fan book us tickets on the next train." Ling folded his hands inside the sleeves of his robe.
"Surely that's not necessary, I could offer you my private coach at least."
"Oh I assure you I don't mind traveling incognito, but I would trouble you for dinner."
"Of course, my private estate is only up the road, please join me for dinner before you go. It's the least I can do to repay you for the information."
Roy gestured for Ling and Lan Fan to enter the backseat of the car first, sliding in behind them.
"Are you quite certain the your estate is safe?" Lan Fan inquired politely, but pointedly.
"Of course, all my domestic house staff have been thoroughly vetted by the Hawk. There is not a more secure venue for our further discussions. Not even my office. I allow it to be bugged. Of course Colonel Fuery has spliced the bugs and so whenever we need he plays idle office chatter into them. But still, bugged."
"I would expect nothing less of you, Fuhrer Mustang. Edward always told me you were the sharpest tool in the shed." Ling's mouth curved into a mischievous smirk. "Although there was a time I too believed my home and court to be secure."
Roy pinned a flattening gaze on the Emperor of Xing. "I do not tolerate rats."
As the motorcade pulled up to the front entrance of his manor, two security guards stepped to open the door of the car. Mustang led Ling up the front steps and into his estate, directing him up the sweeping staircase.
"My private dining room is attached to my living suite. I'm sure you understand that the entertaining dining room is far too spacious for our meeting."
"Ah yes, one of the downsides to being the supreme leader of your country is that it never seems like anything is private."
A valet opened the door to Mustang's suite, Lan Fan did a quick sweep to ensure there was no surprise guests in the room. The valet drew the curtains closed and exited quietly with Lan Fan as Mustang and Ling took their seats at a small polished table next to a gently flickering fireplace.
Before long a butler entered with a choice of wine and poured them two generous glasses, and returned a few moments later with their dinners. They enjoyed some idle chatter, enjoying the wine and company.
Roy sat back as he folded his napkin onto the table. "So tell me how I will contact you if I find anything of import."
"A coded telegram will suffice, I find they're the quickest between our two countries. I have a private telegraph in my palace. I will have Lan Fan provide that information to your team before we leave in the morning."
"Excellent, thank you." The Fuhrer walked over to a brandy decanter sitting on the hearth of the fireplace and poured two glasses, handing one to Ling.
"So, if we do find Edward, do you plan to keep him occupied in Amestris?" Ling took a sniff of the liquid before taking a sip, rolling it around his mouth enjoying the burning sensation.
"When we find Ed, I do not intend to lose him again. He's too valuable to up and disappear again, and by the sounds of it, without his passionate defense of my policies I wouldn't have done many of the things I have done."
"So why did you let him leave in the first place? Don't give me that nonsense about 'letting him live his own life' either. I know very well how he feels about you. Was it not a shared sentiment? Was he only a tool for you to climb the military ladder?"
Ling watched his words have the intended effect. Sliding between Roy's ribs like a knife, for the first time ever, Ling saw a flicker of something true on Roy's face. His hands met the table firmly as he stood to walk to the door.
"It is getting late, your Highness. I believe it's time for us to retire." He opened the door and motioned for Ling's exit.
"You're right of course. I look forward to hearing from you, hopefully soon. Goodnight Fuhrer."
"Good night your Highness. Safe Travels." Roy watched as Lan Fan and his butler escort Ling to the door, a motorcade awaiting to take him away. He turned to his valet.
"Burke, if you'd clean up please. I'm going to my study." Roy turned on his heel, and headed down a dimly lit hallway, thoughts swirling.
"Yes sir." the valet Burke said to his back. Burke entered the small dining room, and retrieved the recording device he'd hooked in the curtains. He secured it in his pocket, put all the dishes on a tray and headed down to the kitchen.
Leaving the trays with the dish washer in the kitchen, he stepped out of the servants door, and left the recording device in a small red bag hidden under the outer hedge of the lawn.
