The Game of Three Generals
by Lady Norbert
A/N: In case anyone wonders, no - Miles' nickname for Olivier in this chapter is not canon. I just thought it would be cute; I ship them a little bit. :D I had originally said I wasn't going to do a chapter from the Northern Wall's point of view, but surprisingly, it worked out much better than I expected. Don't give up hope, my friends!
And sorry for the slight dearth of upates. Lots of nasty weather + chronic pain condition = bad week.
Chapter Fourteen: The Gold General
The Gold General: The General able to move vertically, horizontally, or diagonally forward. In the Chess Motif set, it is represented by the alchemical symbol for gold.
Lieutenant General Olivier Mira Armstrong is, as a general rule, regarded as the most powerful woman in the Amestrian military, and could give a large majority of the men a run for their money too. A noblewoman with a prestigious lineage dating back centuries, she inspires nothing less than awe and fear in most people. Those who serve underneath her love her with an almost slavish devotion. Those who do not have better sense than to even consider challenging her authority.
Even Fuhrer Grumman had considered making her his successor instead of his grandson-in-law, a contemplation in which she had felt the full force of the compliment. But she had been genuine in her rejection. To be the first Lady Fuhrer of Amestris would, indeed, have been a great thing; but why deal with all that nonsense when she already rules uncontested over the north country? Let the arrogant flamethrowing bastard have the big chair, and all of its attendant headaches.
Of course, now that he's been sentenced to die for a crime that Olivier is fairly certain he didn't actually commit, she wonders if she did the right thing after all.
She's been following the coverage of his trial, of course. Oh, she will tell anyone who will listen that she detests Mustang and doesn't care if he lives or dies. There's a certain amount of truth in those remarks, too. But she doesn't really want him to be killed off, especially since the news bulletins have made much about the former Riza Hawkeye's "delicate condition." (If Riza Hawkeye has ever been in a delicate condition in her life, it must be now.) Olivier may not particularly like Mustang but he at least has good taste; Olivier has a lot of respect for the Lady of the Hawk's Eye, and likes to amuse herself by thinking that the other blonde generally just humors her upstart husband in his whims.
No, she doesn't want him killed off in this situation. Especially because she can smell the railroading all the way from Briggs. She first has her suspicions when his most loyal followers stumble off of the train and up to the fortress, reassigned to her in order to help keep Drachma at bay. "As if I need your help," she snaps, and sets them on icicle-scraping duty. As the trial progresses, it becomes unflinchingly obvious that Mustang is being framed. The aggressive prosecution, the unconcerned judge, the parade of witnesses all centered on character defamation - it's very, very evident to a neutral party. In fact, she finds it almost ridiculous enough to make her want to smash her radio.
When Mustang takes the stand in his own defense, she almost pities him.
When she hears the impassioned stance he offers that he would never have done this to his wife - that "I don't love anything more than my wife" - she relents, and actually does pity him. For once, he is being completely honest with the world, and for once, she respects him.
So now Mustang's little circus of trained monkeys want to rush down to Central and try to save him from the firing squad.
Olivier doesn't care. Let them go. Of course, she can't make it that easy, but she has a feeling that they don't need her to make it easy either. She gives them the little push they need, and they're off and running. By now they've probably reached the train station.
The question remains, then, what is she going to do?
Truthfully, she doesn't have to do anything, not really. She doesn't owe Mustang anything. On the other hand, she did once promise (however grudgingly that) that, if the need arose, "the shield of Briggs will come to the aid of the sword of Ishval." And keeping promises as significant as that one is a tradition which has been handed down through the Armstrong line for generations.
She therefore picks up the phone and demands a direct line to Ishval Command.
After a few minutes, the familiar voice is on the line, and she involuntarily smiles. "Lieutenant Colonel Miles."
"Keeping busy in the desert, Miles?" she drawls.
His voice alters as he identifies the caller. "To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure, Ladyship?" She's amused; he hasn't called her that in a long time.
"I'm guessing you heard the news about Mustang."
"Ah. Yes, I did... everyone here at Ishval Command is taking it hard. He's well liked here."
"Tch. Well, I wanted to make sure you followed procedure."
"...ma'am?"
"Have his personal effects sent to Central. I'm sure they'll be a great consolation to his wife."
"Oh. Yes, of course, I should have thought of that."
"Yes, you should. He left you in charge for a reason."
"I will of course have them packed and sent on the next available train. In fact, I think I should bring them personally."
"I think that would be wise. You wouldn't want them to fall into the wrong hands. I should warn you, though, that from what I've been told, nobody ranked lower than a General is able to get near either of the Mustangs."
"That does create some difficulties for the delivery. I'll see what I can do."
"Good. Meanwhile, how goes the cleanup following that glass factory explosion? That must have really scarred the landscape."
"You could say that. We were lucky - no fatalities, and only a very few serious injuries."
"Will taking this trip to Central at such a time put a mark on your service record, do you think?"
"It's a risk I'm willing to take. By the way, Ladyship, the next time we meet, can I interest you in a game of chess? I got into the habit of playing with General Mustang and I'm somewhat lacking for an opponent now."
"Tch, that man's obsession. You know, he left a set with me the last time he was at my family's mansion. The pieces are still all lined up in position."
"Pity. Well, General, much as I enjoy speaking with you, I'd better get a move on if I'm to deliver Mustang's belongings to Central as soon as I can."
"Of course. Travel safely, Miles."
"Thank you, Ladyship."
Olivier exits the train in Central City and looks around with an air of disinterest. She stalks through the streets to the command center, ignoring anyone who dodges out of her way, and slams her hands down on the desk of the admitting attendant on the prison level. "I'm here to see Mustang."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but he can only have visitors of a certain clearance-"
"You see these stars, Sergeant? You see this sword? I have all the clearance I need."
"...yes ma'am," he squeaks. "I'll get the interview room ready."
She's sitting at the table and waiting when the prisoner shuffles into the room; it shocks her to see how defeated he looks. His countenance brightens slightly when he sees her. "Armstrong?"
"You look like hell."
"Yeah, this place'll do that to you. Pardon me for staring - you're the first person who's come to visit me that I don't think was involved in putting me here in the first place."
"Please. I don't care for convaluted schemes; I would have just killed you and been done with it. Firing squad, huh?"
"Yeah. Kind of ironic, considering my wife's occupation."
She levels a glare at him. "Tell me exactly what's happened. I have the guards out there terrified, they're halfway down the hall."
Talk he does. He explains Acheron, what he had done to Riza in the desert, what he's doing now. He explains Dong Bao and their allegiance. He explains Piper's role, Hakuro's ignorance of the truth. She listens without comment.
"When is the execution?" she asks finally.
He shakes slightly as he answers. "Friday."
"Three days? That soon?"
"High crimes and misdemeanors, my dear General. I'm convicted of having committed a bunch of sins in one fell swoop - murder, arson, treason, and familicide all in one explosion. Under the circumstances, they thought it best to off me as quickly as possible." He grimaces. "That, of course, is the official explanation."
"Does Hawkeye know?" She still thinks of her as Hawkeye.
"Yes. They're giving us a few hours before... before it happens. So I can say goodbye."
"You're giving up," she accuses him.
"I'm out of options, princess. They took my men, they've essentially taken my wife, every ally I've got is who knows where at this point. You're the only friendly face I've seen since I was arrested, other than Fullmetal during the trial, because you're the only ally I've got who's got a high enough security clearance to see me."
She starts to tell him the truth - that his men are here in Central, and they're working to get him out of this mess alive - but something stops her. Partly she's afraid to get his hopes up, in case they don't pull it off. Partly she doesn't like admitting she has no idea what's going on.
"I'll see what I can do for Hawkeye," she says instead.
"I appreciate that. She's going to need friends around her and the baby." He looks at her with sincere concern. "But watch your own step, lady. They know that Grumman offered you the post. If they think you're a threat, they'll take you down too."
"Please. I've killed better men than this Piper character in my sleep."
"I have no doubt of that. But he answers to Acheron, and Acheron managed to outwit Grumman. I just don't want you to get hurt."
"Tch." She appreciates the concern, but tries not to show it. There's a warmth there, however, that he unfortunately can probably detect.