Notes: I'm sorry it took a month to update this story. I had a busy few weeks, plus no Internet over last weekend, and frankly, I've been quite stuck for a while. I hope this chapter manages to live up to your expectations; thanks so much to all of my reviewers. I'll try to make the story pick up some more over the course of the next chapters; we'll have to put assassin-Roy to more work XD

It's been fun writing Roy, Ed and Al in particular. Oh, and Riza. How can I forget Riza? I'm considering introducing a little more Royai in the later chapters, I'm such a huge fan of the pairing :) It'll all depend on where all this is going to end up, though, so we'll see.

Thanks to theflamefangirl and BlackLioness for reviewing the previous chapter!

Anyways, here it is. Happy reading!

P.S. I found a dumb mistake in the chapter so I've fixed that. I hope no one noticed how Raven made Al's leg fall off by hitting his shoulder.... Heh.

Chapter Six: A Man's Pride

"He's over here! He's just killed someone – he's going to get away!" Edward's head snapped around at the sound of the policemen.

"Al! Come on! We're not gonna let him get away!" Edward rapped on Al's armoured torso, and dashed off in the direction of the commotion. He cursed. He could barely see where he was going; the sidewalk was dark and the only streetlamp nearby was flickering unhelpfully, casting shadows in every corner. Al followed his brother, his metallic footsteps echoing loudly.

Al called out, "Brother! I think he's over there!" Ed nodded and sprinted forward. It had been a mistake. Before he could fully grasp what was happening, Edward found himself hurtling backwards, his gut on fire. He heard Al cry out even before he hit the ground; he skidded across the pavement rather painfully. Ed, his teeth gritted, tried to get up, but another blow to the face knocked him back down. Dimly, he heard Al's voice, sounding as if it was coming from very far away. He looked up, blinking frantically, only to see a black booted foot coming down towards his face with incredible speed.

This time Edward was quick. He flung up his automail arm to block the kick – it was a powerful one – then pushed it away, and rolled to the side, ending back up on his feet. He clapped his hands together, turned his arm into a blade – just in time to meet his assailant's furious punch with the flat part of his blade. And then, Edward caught his second glimpse of the assassin known as Raven.

The first time he'd encountered the bastard, he'd committed the man's appearance to his memory. That was when Raven was trying to kill an overweight man whose name Edward couldn't recall. He was of medium height with a strong and lean build; his hair was as dark as his black mask and clothes. Something about him struck Ed as familiar but he couldn't quite place what it was…

Raven's knife-arm was nothing but a glittering blur of silver as it came flying in for the kill. Ed yelled and parried, feeling himself being forced backwards by Raven's sheer strength. "Alphonse! Help me out!"

They exchanged several more blows. Raven was fast. His knife seemed to be everywhere at once. Once or twice Ed felt white-hot slivers of pain here and there, where the blade cut into his skin. To his grim satisfaction he managed to slice into his opponent's clothes, just once. He was hoping he had gotten to the flesh but couldn't have said, from the unchanged speed and fury of the strikes he was being dealt.

Raven suddenly dropped low and lashed out with his legs, using his free arm as a pivot. Ed's feet were swept out from under him and he hit the ground once again. He saw the knife flash. It was poised for his chest. It was then Alphonse came lunging in, tackling Raven to the side. Edward didn't even hear a gasp from the assassin. No sign of surprise. No emotion at all, even as he was being attacked – half-squashed – by a massive suit of armour. Al had him locked under one metal arm, effectively immobilizing him… for about thirty seconds. There was a loud, hollow clank; Ed got to his feet. He felt himself gaping from surprise. For the Raven bastard had somehow struck Al's thigh hard enough to make his leg come loose. It just fell off, hitting the ground with a clang. Alphonse's exclamation of surprise was clearly audible as he toppled over to one side. Even as Edward called out his brother's name, the first thought that entered his head was rather embarrassing.

That's never happened before…

And what was stranger was that even the dark emptiness inside Al's armour had failed to impress Raven. Was anything going to catch this man by surprise? Edward doubted it. He desperately wanted to go help Al, who was trying to get ahold of his leg, but he knew that it was far too risky for the time being. He was preparing himself for more rough treatment, assuming a defensive fighting stance – but nothing came. Edward slowly lowered his fists as he realized that the assassin, once again, had run off. He'd just vanished, having melted into the darkness.

"Brother!" Al cried, his detached leg clutched in his hand.

Ed turned. "Al! Are you all right?" He patted Alphonse's armour, pushing him up to a sitting position.

Al shook his head vigorously. "I'm fine, Brother, what about you? There's blood on your face!"

"It's just a scratch, don't worry about it." Edward wiped his face with the back of his gloved hand; crimson came off on the white fabric. Not so far away, he could hear the racket of the policemen. They couldn't have been more useless… Despite the weight of his failure to capture Raven, Ed made his best attempt at a grin. "Al! Give me your leg. I'll fix you up."

"Brother…"

As he took Al's leg, tucking it under his armpit, Edward clapped his hands together and said, "Al, stop worrying. We're going to get the bastard. I promise you, we're going to catch him. I'll figure something out."

Alphonse scratched at his head. "No, Brother… I was just about to tell you…"

"Hm?"

"Your automail, Brother. It looks broken."

Ed glanced at his arm at that. He realized that it was feeling a little limp, and he was right. Something was off.

"That bastard!"

Edward tried not to think of how he would tell Winry Rockbell about this little incident. He'd promised her to stay out of trouble for at least a few weeks; of course he hadn't told her that he and Al had agreed to look for a convicted murdering man in a mask. Ed also tried to banish the picture of her wrench from his head. It was almost as frightening as thinking of whose face lay under Raven's mask.

fmaFMAFMAFMAFMAfma

Even when he was aching all over from Raven's scuffle with Edward Elric the night before, Roy felt like going to work earlier this morning for some reason. He supposed it was because he wanted to take a rare leisurely walk to Headquarters for once. The persistent stinging of the gash Edward had cut into his upper arm wasn't pleasant, but he had caught a few hours of sleep, which was not bad compared to his usual nights. As Mustang changed into his dress shirt, he took a glance at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall. He felt like a patchwork doll, with all those breaks in the skin and the bandages holding it all together. Since when had he had so many scars? Ed had probably added another dozen bruises to his collection last night. Raven hadn't been pleased at the prospect of having to go easy on the boy, but Roy knew that he wouldn't be able to bring himself to harm the Fullmetal Alchemist. However, Raven couldn't be stopped from inflicting a few cuts on Edward, and casually knocking off Alphonse's leg. Behind the protection of the mask, Raven probably felt that he could do anything and be able to get away with it…

He had to admit that it was strange to fight Fullmetal like he was doing. He was astonished that Edward seemed to have no clue that he had, in fact, brawled with no one other than Colonel Mustang. How could he not notice anything? You're covering your face, how the heck would the kid know? Roy told himself, but it only made him feel queasy again; his act was truly convincing to everyone – even to Hawkeye, even to Edward. When he was Raven, he changed his way of walking, his fighting style, his voice, even, whenever he needed to say anything during an operation… It was so perfect. So flawless.

Roy sighed, straightened his uniform and began packing his briefcase. He had also made sure to put on his gloves, since his knuckles were raw and bruised from the amount of flesh it had pounded on in the past few months. He picked up his briefcase and made his way to the door; he opened his mouth to speak for the first time in probably twelve hours at least. "What could be possibly so interesting that it makes you stare out the window for half an hour, Snake?"

The still-masked man replied without turning, "None of your business, Raven, but if you really would like to know, I am just in the process of pinpointing possible locations where would-be killers can hide."

"I wish you would be a little more useful around the house instead of using up my food supply." Roy was in the process of pulling his feet into his boots.

"Well, I am supposed to pretend not to be here, am I not?"

"Dusting the bookshelves for me couldn't hurt."

"I'm comfortable where I am, thank you."

Roy muttered under his breath as he bent down to pick up the newspaper. "Eating my food doesn't really convince me of your non-existence, you know…" His eyes swept over the headline. They widened. "What the hell…"

A photograph was plastered on the front page. It was blurred and underexposed, as if it was taken very hastily and in the dark. It was probably the case. The caption read that a photographer had taken the shot before being sliced into several pieces by his subject – a man clad in black,a man in a mask. It was a black mask. Roy stared at the picture for a few seconds before confirming that it was not of himself – of Raven. The hair was too long, and the mask wasn't scarred enough. But it was the same mask. It was definitely the same mask. Roy's mind had begun to race as he skimmed through the article at a feverish pace. It was describing how this man, this masked phantom, was the Raven; how this time he'd gone for a normal citizen instead of another military officer. How his killing method had suddenly switched from what looked like relatively quick murders to a complete dismemberment…

"Raven, what could possibly hold your interest you for so long? Is it something I should be aware of?" Snake's voice finally pulled him out of the article.

Mustang's head snapped up as he folded the paper in half and tucked it under his arm. Snake was still at the window. "No, you wouldn't find it useful." Snake replied with what seemed like a dubious silence; Roy shook his head and turned to the door. "I'll be back by seven. Don't do anything stupid to my apartment, please. And by the way," he said as he began to walk out, "don't call me that unless I happen to have a mask on."

Snake just chuckled. The bastard.

fmafmaFMAFMAFMAfmafma

"I see you're still hanging around my office, Fullmetal." Roy raised his eyebrows as soon as he saw Edward's bright red coat and Alphonse's shiny armour. "Shouldn't you be looking for that assassin?"

Ed stuck out his lower lip. "He doesn't come out during the day, apparently, so there's no point."

Mustang set down his briefcase on his table, nodding back to the shouted greetings of his subordinates. They were all going about their business and Hawkeye was overlooking them as usual. Life was still normal, unlike how he'd felt when he first saw the headline this morning. Roy turned his attention back to the boys. "You know, that could just be a strategy of his? Luring his pursuers into a false sense of security?"

"Maybe. But I'm tired. We met up with him yesterday, Al and I… I think he knows me pretty well by now." Ed flopped down into a nearby chair with a sigh.

"You fought him?"

"Yes, sir." Alphonse answered him this time.

"What happened?" Every single one of Roy's muscles knew exactly where, how and when he'd struck Fullmetal, and they were also aware of the spots where he'd been hit. But by now he was an expert in pretending to be oblivious.

"We tried to catch him, but he got away." Edward said bluntly, turning away from his superior.

Without looking up from the process of unpacking, Roy asked, "Is that where you got that band-aid?" Edward only glared at him before saying,

"He's good, you know. Really good. I'm surprised that he didn't manage to kill me already."

"He even knocked off my leg with a single strike," Al added quietly. "No one's ever done that before."

Trying to keep his expression on the neutral side and injecting some concern into his voice, Roy inquired, "Are you two okay?"

Ed shrugged the question off. "We're fine."

Roy absently thumbed through some papers before saying, "Didn't you use alchemy against him?"

"We were trying to, sir, but he was too fast…" Alphonse said.

"Too fast for you brothers' alchemy? Now that's saying a lot."

"We can see why they call him inhuman now. I've never seen anyone who could fight like that. If he'd stayed any longer…" Edward didn't need to finish his sentence. He knew that he could have gotten himself very seriously damaged. He was making an effort to hide his still-broken automail, but Roy had already noticed that the boy's metal arm was behaving unnaturally. He also recalled dealing the elbow joint a particularly strong blow with his knife the night before, and feeling something snap under the force. How did he even remember these things? He had no idea.

"He apparently killed someone else last night, too." Mustang said, and tossed Edward the morning edition of the paper. His intention – no, Raven's – was to throw off his pursuers by using this piece of news as an advantage. Ed's eyes widened as he read; Alphonse gave a small gasp from over his brother's shoulder.

"We saw him near the bank last night! This murder took place at the other side of the city… What is this guy, a ghost? How the hell is he everywhere at once?" Ed sounded angry. Roy assumed that the boy was blaming himself for the casualty. Because he'd failed to capture the killer, another life had been lost… Ha! If you're thinking it's your fault, what am I supposed to do, Fullmetal? "This is stupid…"

Mustang couldn't help but smirk at the adjective used. "Stupid?"

The fury in Edward's golden eyes was real. "This isn't funny, Colonel."

"I never said it was." Roy said easily, pretending not to notice anything and casually beginning to sign a document.

Alphonse cut in before Ed could hurl another vicious verbal attack at Mustang. "Colonel… I don't think Brother and I can do this by ourselves…"

"What're you talking about, Al? We can do this! We were so close last night!" Ed protested. His face went almost as red as his coat when Roy looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I-I don't want other people to get involved…" He said at last, looking down at his feet, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "Besides, we'll need that prize money." Edward added, rather lamely.

The righteous little boy… Inwardly, Roy sighed, while Raven urged him to take this opportunity to use for his advantage. "I'll give you another week," Mustang replied finally. Raven liked this decision. He didn't need any more men running after him or his mysterious copycat, for the matter, every night. "But shouldn't you go fix your arm first?"

"What?" Ed was surprised. How did Mustang notice that?

"You really think I'm an idiot, don't you." Edward started to bristle again at that, and Alphonse was in the process of trying to hold his brother back – it was then Hawkeye conveniently intervened. She stepped right in between the brothers and Roy's desk, and said,

"Colonel?"

"Hm?"

"You have more paperwork here, due by the end of the week." She promptly put the monstrous stack of papers and folders down on Roy's desk. Edward, despite himself, gave a snigger at Mustang's look of absolute horror.

"Brother!"

"What?" Ed just grinned innocently, got to his feet and began to swagger to the door. "Come on, Al."

Roy sighed, and called out, "Where will you two be headed?"

"We'll visit Risembool today, to see the Rockbells. Expect us back by the end of tomorrow; we'll start looking for Raven again that evening."

"Wouldn't that be a bit strenuous? I won't mind if you guys need another day off, you know… I can fill in for you… " If this actually happened, it could become a problem. Roy couldn't be Roy and Raven at once. What would happen if he was ordered to arrest Raven? Sooner or later someone clever would be able to put the pieces together, and his cover would be blown. Mustang was only saying this because he knew that Ed's pride wouldn't be able to take it. As always, he was correct.

"We'll be fine." Edward replied curtly without turning. "I'll see you later, Colonel."

Roy lazily waved a hand. "If you say so, Fullmetal." He had to smile at Edward's loud grumbling, fading into the distance as the brothers walked away.

fmafmaFMAFMAFMAFMAfmafma

Mustang had never liked whiskey. Even the scent of him made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. He preferred milder drinks that didn't render people plumb drunk. But of course, half of these stupid higher-ups were probably alcoholics that didn't really give a damn about drinking ethics and such. Mustang couldn't have cared less if they drank their lives away. He just didn't see the point in inviting someone like him to come along.

The general or lieutenant general, whoever he was, slapped Roy on the back, chugging down his own serving of whiskey. "Come on, Mustang, drink up, drink up!" It wasn't as if they were going to pay for it or anything… What's the fucking point of this? Mustang glared at the large, frothing mug sitting on the counter before him. The overpowering stink of alcohol and cigarette smoke, coupled with the loud voices and laughter made him feel nauseous. He regretted accepting his invitation out of politeness. Why did he have to be polite to these pigs? He just wanted to get out of this stupid bar.

Raven was adding these military men, all still in uniform, to his list of future targets. There was one grossly overweight one who seemed to be left-handed, a general; another with a scarred face, receding hair and a double chin, lieutenant general; a younger man with a moustache, lieutenant general again… For some reason, this time Roy felt like helping Raven create his little list. All of these superior officers of his were dull-witted, arrogant, greedy and foolish. The bar seemed to strip away any dignity they happened to have left; they were savages. This was the reason of Amestris's slow decay. This, and King Bradley, perhaps, the man who employed and promoted these worms. Nearby, Roy located several clusters of other customers, whispering amongst themselves. Judging by the way they kept on casting furtive glances this way, they were talking about the rambunctious soldiers in their bar. Weren't government officers supposed to be respectable men? What was this? Couldn't Amestris have officials that people could be proud of?

With these angry thoughts in his head, Roy shrugged off the stranger's arm from his shoulder and pushed back his chair. He mumbled an excuse, put a few coins on the counter and slunk away. He saw one of the generals find the change and slip it into his own pocket. Not that anyone really seemed to notice or care. Pathetic.

Mustang breathed in the cool evening air that hit him in the face when he stepped outside. Ever since his little incident with the syndicate, he'd hated feeling confined, whether it was in his own home, his office or anywhere else… He put his hands deep in his overcoat pockets and walked briskly, wanting to get home quickly in case he had another assignment. Venomously, he almost hoped he would have to kill one of those fools from the bar.

He hadn't gotten far when his well-developed instincts told him that something was off. It felt like someone was watching him or following him – or both. The streets weren't completely dark yet, for the sun was still setting, but there were still plenty of shadows cast in almost every corner. There could be anyone hiding, anywhere.

At once, Raven completely took over his mind and body. Let me handle this, he whispered. Just sit back and enjoy the show, Roy-boy. He automatically fell into a comfortable fighting stance and took in every detail of his surroundings. There were so many possible hiding spots… Perhaps he was overreacting? No. Raven never overreacts. There was definitely something watching.

As soon as the gunshot rang out, Roy – Raven – had already ducked and dived for cover. Several more shots came in succession; Raven had chosen to stay concealed by a telephone pole for the moment. He knew that he couldn't stay for long, however; the bullets were already blasting away at the concrete. Taking a quick glance up, Raven saw the bright discharge coming from about two stories up. Judging by the quick and merciless fashion in which this gun was being fired, this was definitely a professional gunman, yet Raven could tell that it was no sniper. He knew the incredible accuracy a sniper should have, but it wasn't here. If this was a sniper, he would already be dead by now.

Suddenly, it was quiet. Raven let out a slow breath. He reached into his pocket, drew out his pocketknife – at the same time he heard a thump of someone landing on soft-soled boots. His attacker had come down for him. He suddenly desperately wished that he had a gun. Instead, he saw something that might serve him even better at the moment – several rusty poles, leaning on a nearby brick wall. With his gloved hand, he reached for one. Gripped it tightly, feeling its firm weight in his hand, its roughness – his muscles tensed as he prepared to strike.

All the while, Roy Mustang wondered what the hell this was all about.

TBC