Disclaimer: FMA belongs to Arakawa Hiromu
Notes: Jas' a bit shorter than the previous one - but as I said, of the past, present and future, this one is the present. (Is a gift from me to you ;D )
Ninety-five: Now
"You've got him in your sights?"
Hawkeye inched the barrel of her rifle to the left. She was safe, bunkered down in the second storey of a house where no-one would notice her unless they saw the flash of her gun. And then if her targets were far enough away she could hope that anyone who witnessed the flash itself wouldn't see the effect, and might think it was just the sunlight gleaming on a piece of glass.
"Trained right on him, sir," she said, keeping the crosshair on her target. Her palms were beginning to sweat already. During the action, she wouldn't have time to think – just act and react – and so sweaty palms and nervousness wouldn't be a problem there, but now, in the adrenaline-filled calm, she couldn't help but feel a prickle of nervousness. Everything would go to plan. It would.
"You hold that, Lieutenant. Havoc, your target?"
Another scratchy voice came through the headset Hawkeye wore. "Just a moment." A slight pause. "Mmkay, this fellow's a hair's breadth from a bullet in the spleen."
Mustang's voice returned. "Remember, we don't have long, and we want to make this a clean victory. No deaths. That is a Do Not Kill order, folks. Take them out of the battle, but let them see that we're walking the higher moral ground. So everyone's ready?"
A chorus of affirmative answers sang through various levels of static.
"Alright, then. Wait for my order . . . Now!"