He was a tall, thin man with black hair that was graying at the temples giving him the appearance of a distinguished, courtly gentleman. But Drachmans were never known as gentlemen and his cold steel gray eyes made that very obvious, as they narrowed with disapproval upon hearing the Captain's report. He was already upset when he left the capitol of Drachma. The travel delays coming all the way to the south hadn't helped either and the more he heard from the Captain, that was escorting him through the underground base, he became even more furious with the turn of events.
It wasn't the haunting cries that echoed through the underground chambers that disturbed him. It was actually music to his ears.
They were the people who had defied the government – or rather, the military - through the years. Protestors, separatists, revolutionaries, anarchists... they were all the same: traitors and they got what all traitors of the Drachman military deserved. If they didn't conform they didn't belong. Once they tried to rise up and make some noise, their rebellious movements were quickly quashed and their leaders imprisoned, never to be seen again by family and friends. Nobody questioned the disappearances. Since the war the government ran as usual with the facade of rebuilding. They did as such but behind the scenes the government turned a blind eye to the military's activities as long as it didn't reach the press or disrupted their day to day routine of running the largest country that was on the brink of imploding from the stress of war. It was necessary to let the military run as it saw fit in order to keep the country together. It was too bad that freedom the government gave the military would soon turn against them and then would turn upon another government that had humiliated them one time too many.
The torturous cries grew louder yet it didn't affect him. He walked with a purposeful gait towards a man he needed to speak with urgently, his highly polished boots clanking loudly on the metal grating of the walkway.
This meeting served two purposes: one, to see how progress was advancing and two, to demand an answer for some unplanned activities that caused the distress within the Drachman government. The man he wished to speak with stood still as a statue leaning against a railing, observing something down in the lower levels that glowed red and orange. There was a look of awe and eagerness that lit the eyes behind the thick glasses that reflected the fire of alchemical energy from below.
"General Grumman," he barked but there was no response. It shouldn't have been surprising the old man wouldn't hear him. Grumman was old and there was a lot of noise but that didn't stop him from getting irritated.
"General Grumman," he tried again and still no answer.
He never liked the Amestrian traitor and this just confirmed his dislike. But what Grumman had offered them was too good to pass up and so the old man was tolerated. But someday soon he would wear out his welcome.
Setting his face in an appropriately disgusted expression, the Drachman General straightened his uniform then took the last three steps towards the older man until they stood side by side. Grumman jumped slightly at the unannounced presence of his visitor.
"General Dragomir, so good of you to join us," Grumman said, blinking rapidly through his thick glasses, a patronizing smile playing on his lips.
"I can assure you, General, this is not a social visit," Dragomir sneered putting as much contempt in the word General as he could.
"Eh? What was that?"
"I said," he began again raising his voice, "this is not a social visit…"
"Ah, just a moment," Grumman said holding his hand up then removed the ear plugs that had been blocking out all the noise. "I'm so sorry, will you repeat that?"
"No," Dragomir stated flatly, shaking with anger.
"Then it must not have been important."
Dragomir's cold gray eyes narrowed on the shorter, older man, as he tried to maintain his composure. "But this is," he growled. He had more concerns other than the older General's rudeness. "Why is it that the Amestrian military is seeking our cooperation to search for the Fullmetal Alchemist's missing wife and son within our borders?"
"Who knows?" Grumman shrugged with a bored look. "I can't help it if the man has a lot of enemies."
"It's a little suspicious… the timing of all this," Dragomir pressed. "They go missing the same time you and that fool Tringum are in Amestris."
"Yes, it is, isn't it?"
"What is Tringum up to?"
"Oh, he's just having a bit of fun," Grumman finally conceded.
"At the cost of exposing this operation!" Dragomir pointed out heatedly.
"Don't worry, all will go..."
"And why," Dragomir continued, interrupting Grumman as he looked down off the balcony to the lower level, "are those two bit alchemists doing the work that Tringum should be doing?"
"He's taking care of the first problem," Grumman said simply as if it were obvious.
"Well, he wouldn't have to if he'd stuck to the original plan."
"True, but it will be taken care of."
"Are they here?"
"Who?" Grumman asked innocently.
"You know who I'm talking about."
The old man sighed. "Yes, they are."
"Then why are they not dead yet?"
"Dead or alive the Fullmetal Alchemist will come for them. Tringum has seen to it."
"And what is being done to stop him from finding his wife and son here? He was not exactly an easy catch during the war. He's dangerous and we can't let him see what is going on here."
"You have no confidence in your own men?"
"I am not ignorant of his actions during the war and he is a General now. He's had time to hone his skills."
"Ex-General," Grumman pointed out, though Dragomir obviously didn't care about that little detail. "But there is nothing to fear. As I've said before, that little problem will be taken care of."
"I hope so, General," Dragomir said dangerously. "You are not as indispensable as you think you are. Remember that if this clean up project of Tringum's fails."
Dragomir turned on his heal and left but before he got any further Grumman called out to him.
"General, if I were you I wouldn't kill Fullmetal's wife and son just yet."
The Drachman General turned back around. "What makes you think I had that in mind?"
"I know how we traitors think," Grumman said knowingly getting a scowl from Dragomir in return. "Anyways," he continued, smirking, "Fullmetal's wife is the daughter of Maes Hughes, a war hero in Amestris. If she were to be found dead within the borders of Drachma it could cause quite a scandal."
"So what do we do with them? Keep them imprisoned forever?"
"No, I had something else in mind. To throw the Amestrians off the trail support the search. This will convince the Drachman government to offer assistance. Then you could just happen to discover them and bring them to safety along with their abductor."
"Their abductor!" Dragomir exclaimed, shocked by the notion. "You mean turn Tringum over. But he'll talk and expose this whole oper..."
"But nobody will believe him," Grumman soothed. "As far as Fullmetal knows, Tringum is only out for revenge. If he talks he'll just sound like a jealous, revenge driven lunatic."
"And you believe they will not suspect anything?"
"They won't," Grumman said, lying easily.
Dragomir took a second before responding. "I'll think about it."
"You do that, General," Grumman said smoothly putting the ear plugs back as he turned to look back down at the work going on below him.
Dragomir left. When he was far enough away from Grumman he motioned the Captain that had guided him earlier over to him.
"I want snipers stationed at all entrances and keep them hidden, even from Grumman," he hissed, keeping his voice low. The Captain strained to hear the General's orders. "Make sure they are all given accurate descriptions of the Fullmetal Alchemist. If he takes one step in here, kill him. Got it?"
"Yes, sir."
"I also want the guards outside doubled. There orders are to shoot to kill if anyone suspicious gets too close. As for Fullmetal's missing wife and son, you know where they are?"
"In the holding cells, sir. We were told by General Grumman to leave them be."
"If the Fullmetal Alchemist does come, kill them as well. Station armed guards at their cell."
"Yes, sir, but..."
"But what, Captain?"
"He's just one man, why go through all this trouble?"
"That one man," Dragomir growled stopping in his tracks, "did a lot of damage during the war. I should know. I was there when my unit was trapped by him and the Strongarm Alchemist, forcing our commanding officer to surrender, ending the war. He is not to be underestimated even if he's alone and unarmed."
"Yes, sir," the Captain said finally understanding the seriousness of the General's orders and that they should be followed precisely. But there was still one thing he was worried about. "But if the Fullmetal Alchemist is killed here, on Drachman soil, it could create even more tension between us and the Amestrians."
"Not if he was here illegally, which he would be."
"But his wife and son…"
"They're dead bodies will just have to be discovered elsewhere, say… Xing."
The Captain stood there slack jawed then composed himself. "That's an excellent idea, sir."
"It is," Dragomir said continuing on his way, the Captain catching up with him. "That will give the Amestrians something to do so they're no longer focused on us. But this is a back up plan. Let's see if Grumman and Tringum follow through. If they can't I don't want any mistakes, Captain. We will clean up this mess if we have to and point the blame elsewhere to continue with our plan."
"Yes, sir," the Captain swallowed overwhelmed by the complications the matter presented.