Notes: Yeah, I know this took a long time to write. I was pondering on the future of this story and came up with character sketches (of my several OCs), profiles and stuff like that, so I wasn't actually working on the chapter itself for a while. I had an awful last week of school at the beginning of March; thankfully it's break now but I've been failing to write because of my new obsession of the TV show, Criminal Minds. So yeah, I'd like to apologize for the long wait. Anyways, now about the chapter itself… I decided to shove Ed into the mix – Fullmetal's presence always makes for interesting situations. I'm also thinking of making Tyson MacDougall into a bigger character, as I have some plans for the guy… If you'd like to see the sketches I might post some on my DeviantArt account in the near future.

Whew, that was a lot of chitchat… Onto the chapter now.

Here we go.

Chapter Five: "Yo, Fullmetal."

Three Weeks Later

Edward Elric felt that there was a noticeable air of unease in the streets of Central. It was barely past five o'clock, but as autumn approached, darkness fell fast every day. There weren't very many people in the normally busy roads; Ed and Alphonse were two of the very few human beings walking in the middle of the sidewalk like they were doing. Everyone seemed to be… afraid of something.

"Hey, Al, what's going on here? Something's off, don't you think?" Edward remarked as they made their way to the headquarters.

Alphonse shrugged. "I dunno, Brother… But it is a little too quiet here… We can ask the Colonel about it."

"If the bastard's back, that is. Who the hell does he think he is? Since when did he take random three-month vacations without notice?" Ed growled. He had to admit that it was strange. It was even more so when Lieutenant Hawkeye had told the brothers that she was unable to contact him. Colonel Mustang was unorganized sometimes, but this…. it was rather odd… The brothers had received news of the Colonel's return. Neither of them was sure if this was true, but they had decided to try paying Headquarters a visit.

Al exclaimed in exasperation. "Brother! The Lieutenant said it was a diplomatic mission to Drachma!"

Ed just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Probably he was just off on a bunch of dates with girls he picked up on the streets…"

"Don't, Brother," Al sighed, sounding cross, as he always did when Ed got foul-mouthed.

"Whatever," grumbled Edward; he lifted his eyes upwards and let out an exaggerated sigh. The white building that was Central Headquarters was looming above them. "Damn, here we are."

"Yup. Let's go." They walked on and reached the door of Mustang's office. Ed, as usual, knocked more loudly than necessary with his metal knuckles. Also, as usual, the Colonel's drawl reached their ears. He always recognized the footsteps of the Elric brothers, as well as the rapping of Ed's fist, far before they entered his office.

"Come in."

Edward hadn't seen Colonel Mustang sitting in that chair for a long time. Strangely enough it almost pleased him to see his superior back in his office again; for a while Ed had thought that Roy would never show up again.

…not that he'd been worried or anything…

Roy casually waved a hand. "Yo, Fullmetal."

"Hey," Edward grunted. Mustang was seated in his chair, holding a pen and almost obscured behind a large stack of papers and books. He was alone; his subordinates were probably off on errands. Ed looked at him closely. Did Mustang look a little pale to him? "Have you been starving yourself or something, Colonel?"

Alphonse started to say something, but Roy spoke first. "I suppose you can say that. What about you? Is it just me, or have you gotten taller?" Ed bristled, but this time he couldn't tell whether Mustang was mocking him or being genuine. He did feel a little bigger than three months ago… Of course Ed had no idea that Roy completely meant it. It felt like a very long time since he'd seen the blonde boy and his brother. A very long time… Was that why Edward seemed to have become more mature?

"So… how did your trip go, sir?" Al attempted to inject some polite conversation into the silent room.

"Fine," Mustang replied simply. "How about you two? How have you been?"

"We're just dropping by Central to take a little break… We're both tired. But we come here, and the city looks dead – what's going on? Is there something happening around here?"

"Hm?" Roy raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Just as I say. The city looks dead. There's no one on the streets. We've come to Central enough to know that something's not right."

"Well…" Mustang's hesitation was obvious. "There have been some killings lately."

Edward's eyes widened. "Killings? You mean, murders?"

"Well…" Roy's hesitation was clear to Ed. "Yeah. Someone's been targeting people and eliminating them for the last month. He only gets men in the military, for some reason… The seventh was killed only two days ago."

Edward took a moment to digest all this. "A serial killer?" Al gasped.

"I guess you can say that… The guy has the entire military here scared to bits."

"Aren't you?" Ed said, his eyes narrowing involuntarily. "Shouldn't you be in hiding or something? What if you're targeted next? If this person's been getting experienced soldiers this easily, shouldn't you be a little nervous, too?" He tried not to sound too concerned. He wasn't really, of course, since he knew that Mustang was a confident bastard who could take care of himself, but at the same time, this situation struck him as not very good at all. The military had to stay intact, for who else would keep Amestris under control? What was this bastard going for, anyways? What was his goal? Already the gears in Edward's inquisitive mind were beginning to turn, trying to grasp for any clues despite having just arrived in Central.

"Well… I honestly don't believe in those stupid stories about the killer being a phantom that's going to hunt down every last member of the military, so no. I'd fry him if he came after me, and you know that – probably, judging by his precise kills, he does, too." Mustang, as always, was calm and laid-back. He twirled the pen in his hand a few times, glancing down at the paper on his table.

This was a reaction Ed had been expecting from him. The Colonel didn't like to show any kind of fear or weakness… Just like me, Edward thought bitterly, the corners of his mouth turning into a deeper frown.

"You should be careful, Colonel," Alphonse said, voicing his older brother's thoughts, "this person must be a legitimate professional, since he's been able to get so many victims without being caught…"

"Yeah, we know. We're doing our best to capture him but we've got no leads… It's pretty pathetic, if you ask me, he's just a single person. We've placed a high reward for his arrest, and everyone's looking for him. It's pointless. We don't even have a name – just an alias. We know he likes to call himself 'Raven'. He's got skills. He takes down experienced generals as if they were sitting ducks, he kills them nice and clean with a dozen different kinds of weapons. Then he just disappears. It's unlike anyone we've ever had in Central before."

Edward sank into a thoughtful silence. Roy had returned to his paperwork, obviously finished saying what he needed to say about the Raven character. It was then there was another knock on the door. Ed ran to get it as Mustang called out, "Who is it?"

A stunned quiet greeted the newcomer. Edward's jaw dropped open, and Alphonse gasped, a little too loudly. Roy, seeing who it was, leapt up to his feet and saluted mechanically, the surprise not showing on his face. "Furher Bradley! What brings you here, sir?"

King Bradley?! What the hell's he doing here?

"Good afternoon, Colonel Mustang, I'm sorry for barging in like this." Bradley was smiling and waving his hand. His single eye fell on Edward and Alphonse. "Ah, just as I'd heard – the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother is here."

"Er, yes, sir." Ed stammered lamely.

Bradley acknowledged him with a nod. "I trust you've caught up with news of Central City?"

"Yes, sir." Ed, still flustered, had no idea what else to say. What was the Furher doing here? What did he want? Did it have something to do with him and Alphonse?

Roy said, "I've just been informing the Elric brothers of the assassin – "

"Ah, the so-called Raven?" The Furher put his hands behind his back. "As a matter of fact, that is exactly the matter I wish to discuss right now."

"About Raven, sir?" Roy was surprised.

"Yes, since the Elric brothers are here, I'd like to give them a special mission."

Something about that made Edward nervous. "A mission?"

"I would like you and Alphonse to capture and arrest this Raven for me. You two are the perfect pair for the job."

Edward couldn't help but gape. "Arrest Raven, sir?"

"The reward will be great. We need to get a hold of this criminal before it is too late. He has a great goal that he will undoubtedly achieve if he is not stopped."

"But, Furher, sir – we already have our entire police force on the lookout for him. We'll catch him eventually." Roy protested before clamping his mouth shut at the considerable pressure of Bradley's one-eyed gaze. The older man just shook his head.

"If we have the Elric brothers on the murderer's trail we will catch him ten times faster."

"Sir – they're just boys. This is a professional killer that has taken down seven veteran soldiers." Edward was annoyed and oddly touched at the same time. Ha! Mustang was actually worried about him? I'm not a little kid any more, bastard.

"They've seen much more than the average child. But, since you insist, Colonel, why don't we have them decide instead. This is an offer for them, not for you. It is not your choice to make." At the Furher's falsely friendly but firm tone Roy had no choice but to withdraw. He met Edward's eyes as if urging him to make a wise decision.

Was a feeling of opposition against Roy what drove Ed to make his choice? His desire to be better than the Colonel Bastard? Or was it something else? Maybe it was his natural way of wanting to protect people, even people he had nothing to do with… Either way, Edward came to regret saying what he said right now.

"Al?"

"Yeah?" Alphonse looked at his brother.

"What do you think?"

Al's hesitation was obvious. "I don't know, Brother… It sounds a little dangerous…"

Edward faced Bradley; determinedly, he said in a loud and clear voice, "We'll take the job."

He pretended not to notice Mustang's deep and long sigh.

fmaFMAFMAFMAFMAfma

Mustang had been sitting on his bed, massaging his temples, for the longest time. He didn't really believe in God, but somehow he knew that if one existed, he wasn't being held in high favour. The past few weeks had been hell; just when he would have thought that things couldn't get worse, Fullmetal had shown up and made things even messier…

The stupid boy. The stupid, stupid boy. Bradley hadn't helped at all, of course, but Edward… What the hell drove him to accept the Raven mission? Roy was dismayed. With the Fullmetal Alchemist hot on his tail, life was going to get a whole lot more difficult. The brat was young but he had the skills, guts and the brains – Roy knew that he should be worried. Or rather, Raven should be.

But the thing that was truly gnawing at him was the fact that he had no desire to hurt young Edward or Alphonse, though he knew it was unavoidable if he wished to survive and escape capture. The boy was going to put all his effort into the hunt – he had seen it in those golden eyes. Would Raven be able to resist the urge to impale, shoot or strangle Ed like he'd done to his previous victims?

Roy flopped back onto his mattress and let out another sigh. He tried to console himself with the fact that he didn't have to work tonight. There had been no note with a name on his light switch when he'd returned home. Mustang wasn't sure whether to be relieved or suspicious; he remembered the lack of activity back in the facility right before he had been forced to become a killing machine. Those memories kept on coming back despite his best attempts to forget all that he had gone through. How could he forget when there was a mask and a dozen different weapons sitting under the floorboard under his bed?

How many had he killed so far? Was it already seven? Seven? It seemed like such a small number – it was, compared to the hundreds Mustang had blown up in Ishval. Yet it didn't feel that way. Attending the funerals of the deceased military officers and watching their sobbing families was heart-wrenchingly difficult. But Raven and the syndicate craved their blood; Mustang had no choice but to obey, fearing for the lives of his subordinates.

Even Riza couldn't guess what her superior was doing every night. None of Mustang's other men suspected anything, either. Hawkeye still seemed to be suspicious, however, and Roy knew he needed to be extremely cautious. He never let anything slip, and he acted as he always did. His never let his night job get in the way of his daily work. His façade was perfect, impenetrable.

Impossibly, Roy was beginning to get used to his new lifestyle. He learned to track and research his victims more efficiently. He also taught himself to manage his time better, to catch naps and rest whenever he could, for his nightly missions were draining. Some of the men he had gone after put up good fights, just like Johnston, his first kill, whose bullet had left a vivid red scar on his skin. One particularly memorable general managed to keep up with Raven's vicious blows for what Roy estimated to be about a minute. That was the longest so far – most other men found Raven's speed overwhelming. Roy still couldn't believe how fast he was able to move when he had to. Sometimes he barely felt human any more. The way his victims screamed when they saw him coming, he would have thought that he was wearing a monster mask instead of a plain black one…

The police that came after him were stupid, slow and cowardly. They had no chance of capturing him. On top of that, Raven knew of all their plans and movements, thanks to Roy Mustang's convenient position in the heart of the military. This made Roy realize, once again, the frighteningly precise planning Tyson MacDougall must have done. MacDougall had picked a perfect candidate for his mission – a skilled and intelligent soldier who worked in the centre of the country's government, in the same building as King Bradley. Roy was afraid to think what a man like MacDougall would be capable of if he was to lead the country after bringing down Bradley. After all, there had been no mention of who was going to take over after all this was finished, and Roy didn't dare ask.

Lost in his own thoughts, Mustang had let his guard down. Suddenly, he felt an unfamiliar presence nearby, here, in his apartment. Keeping his breathing normal, Roy slowly sat up, and reached for the pocketknife he always kept on his bedside table. He stood and made his way to the dimly lit living room, hardly making a sound, listening, blade poised like an animal's claw.

There was a rustle behind him – his arm shot out as if of its own accord. A split second later, he found his hand clenched around the collar of the intruder. Seeing the person's face, his eyes widened.

"MacDougall?"

It was him, exactly as Roy had remembered from their single meeting. He even seemed to be wearing the same suit and tie. "Good evening, Raven." His voice was the same – calm and controlled.

"What are you doing here? You could have used the front door, you know." Mustang cautiously released his grip on the man's front and lowered his knife. "Or you could have left me a note. It might be a good way to avoid getting your throat slit by mistake, sir."

"I prefer to do business in a more personal manner, and this isn't a normal circumstance, either. I thought it would be best for me to come meet you in person." As MacDougall was straightening his tie, Mustang noticed that he wasn't wearing his sunglasses. This made the scars on his face stand out more vividly. Yet the face was oddly handsome. When their eyes met for a moment in the dimness, Roy saw that MacDougall had the brightest green eyes he had ever seen – they were almost eerily so. They were clear and intelligent, not unlike Roy's own.

"What's this business that brought you here at one in the morning?" Roy broke the silence, glancing at the clock.

"Several things. Firstly, I'd like to congratulate you on an excellent first week. You've gone beyond our expectations – your methods are proving very effective. You're also doing a good job of evading the authorities."

"Thank you, sir." Mustang knew this was only the surface of what MacDougall wanted to say. He wouldn't have come here, not like this, just to praise him on his performance.

"I also have some news for you." MacDougall continued.

"News? Good or bad?"

"I wouldn't know. Neither, I suppose. It's more like a new mission I'd like you to undertake, Raven."

"It's not another assassination?" The word came out so easily now.

"It may include one. You see…" MacDougall paused to take out a cigarette from his pocket. Lighting it, he continued, "We believe that someone is targeting Thomas Anderson."

This only mildly surprised Mustang, for some reason. "Anderson? Snake?"

"Yes. We have a good guess of who it might be, but we have yet to find solid facts."

"I'm guessing that that's going to be my job…"

"Your intelligence will greatly assist in our operation. Also, I'll have ask you to help capture the man."

"Who is this person? Do you have any idea?" Mustang's brain was already gearing up to work.

"We're not sure. Snake has a theory… You might want to talk to him." Roy didn't flinch when MacDougall exhaled cigarette smoke into his face. Havoc had gotten him used to second-hand smoking.

"Talk to him? How? I haven't seen him for a month." Mustang was sceptical. But more than that, he had no desire to face his mentor again. It was him who had transformed the righteous Colonel Mustang into a faceless, unfeeling killer, and Roy didn't feel like forgiving him for that, not yet, even though there was still that strange sense of respect for the older man in him.

MacDougall fell silent for a moment, just drinking in his cigarette smoke. Roy could tell he wasn't thinking; he was simply biding his time, enjoying the suspense he had created. At last, he spoke. "He'll have to come to you. It'll be the best way to carry this out. It'll lure the killer out; it'll give you a chance to catch him unawares. Snake will take care of himself, and his presence will go unnoticed by everyone but you."

"You want me to live with Snake?" Mustang failed to keep the disbelief from his voice. "You want me to live with him?"

The corner of MacDougall's lips twitched, as if he was trying not to smile. For a moment Roy almost considered punching him in the face, so that it would fall apart at the scars. "Well, I suppose you can think of it that way."

"But that's ridiculous."

"He won't bother you."

"Oh, of course a near stranger crouching in the corner of my tiny apartment isn't going to bother me." Roy snapped. "What am I to you? I wish you'd stop giving me more and more difficult tasks to do. Giving me numerous war veterans as my targets is bad enough, but what is this? Am I your little puppet?"

MacDougall showed emotion for the first time. He smirked. Mustang hated to admit it, but this man was quite like him – a handsome devil. A handsome, infuriating devil. "Yeah, that's exactly what I think you are. You're just another weapon of mine, albeit a perfect one." The grin vanished from his face. He leaned in close, and Roy was forced to acknowledge their difference in height. He smelled like Havoc – of cigarette smoke. MacDougall's voice dropped to a whisper. "And if you don't do as I say, I can guarantee you that Anderson has some ugly things in store for you, Raven."

Mustang said nothing, his injured pride making him bristle. MacDougall turned to leave, and gave his employee a clap on the shoulder. He waved a hand lazily. "By the way, Snake wants you to eliminate someone called Brigadier General Allen Pike. That'll be tomorrow's target for you, since I've wasted quite a bit of your time already. Catch some sleep."

Roy wanted to laugh. Now he was being told to catch some sleep? And I wonder who was taking it from me in the first place?

He stood and watched MacDougall's pale whitish head disappear through his open front door.

TBC.

Reviews will be appreciated!