They watched as Envy twisted and screamed as the flames ate at the homunculus, devouring what was left of the sad pathetic creature. When the fire died down bits of flesh and ash scattered and floated away then disintegrated along with his fading curses.
"You know," Havoc said breaking the silence. "Ed's not going to forgive you for this."
"I don't expect him to," Mustang said. "I caused this mess."
"No, not that. I'm sure he wanted to be the one to get rid of Kimbley."
Mustang chuckled and winced, his leg throbbing. "Well, it's no fair for him to hog all the homunculi slayings. Besides, why should he complain? He was the one that said to fix it myself."
Havoc laughed as he stood, unable to argue Mustang's point. "I'll go find something for your leg."
Mustang nodded as he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Havoc watched him for a second feeling a little more compelled to be nicer towards the Fuhrer. He didn't linger too long, knowing he'd have to hurry. Mustang was losing a lot of blood and looked ready to pass out. As much as he felt the Fuhrer could use some rest, he didn't want to be left without the Flame Alchemist as a last resort backup.
His search for medical supplies was successful. But it also produced a few unwelcome surprises he knew he should have prepared himself for.
The first was through the door that opened from the chamber into another room; an expansive room full of very real, yet un-animated, homunculi. A red glow was cast upon them from several tanks against a wall to his left. The dim light didn't reach all the way to the back of the room but he could see enough. A chill went up his spine as his eyes passed over row upon row of them. And he thought there were a lot that had come through the tunnel. Their numbers were nothing compared to what it could have been.
There was a pump somewhere circulating oxygen through the tubes that were connected to each one. The chests of the bodies hanging upside down rose and fell in perfect unison. He didn't want to waste too much time but figured while he was there he could do something to prevent soulless, artificial bodies from ever being revived again. He located the pump hidden in the shadows of the dark room and turned it off. With a final sigh and push of air the chests rose one last time. Then with a huge gust of exhaling air from hundreds of bodies at once it was silent.
Havoc left hurriedly feeling like a mass murderer. He tried to tell himself what he did was right but of all the people he killed during the war they had the chance to fight back. These homunculi didn't. They were artificial humans who had no rights or choices; created to be manipulated to do the bidding of other corrupt humans and homunculi. It almost didn't seem fair to destroy them so mercilessly since they never asked to be created in the first place. He argued they had no souls. The only thing that would give them that spark of life came from the souls of others; others who came from real humans who had raised and loved them and then had their spark torn from them unwillingly. He pushed it from his mind. It was one of those complicated ethical questions he didn't want to get into but he was. He left the room in a hurry.
The second unwelcome surprise was the holding cells he found. Some of the doors had been ripped off their hinges and flung every which way. He steeled himself as he walked down the corridor. Many of the cells were empty. The ones near the end not so much. Even before he reached the first one with the dismembered bodies he smelled the blood. Further on body parts could be seen in the shadows lying on the floor of the corridor. He'd seen some horrors in his lifetime but it wasn't like he was immune to it. He turned away, covering his mouth as he gagged. Fortunately what little he had in his stomach stayed there after a good fight with his body's natural reflexes. He didn't know what could have been a worse fate for the prisoners that were held in these cells; being sacrificed to create a Philosopher's stone... or being killed by creatures that contained the souls of former comrades who were once imprisoned here.
He also came across a few Drachman soldiers and several men not in uniform who had met a similar fate as the prisoners in the holding cells. He eventually found an office that had a first aid kit. He did a little rummaging around looking for paperwork, hoping there was something documenting who the prisoners were. Nothing. All he found were alchemy research notes. Volumes and volumes of them along with sketches of transmutation circles that looked like the one on the floor of the chamber but in different variations. He left them. They would be destroyed soon enough.
He went back to Mustang who looked like he'd passed out. As soon as Havoc started bandaging his leg - setting a bone that badly broken beyond his skill - Mustang's eyes fluttered open.
"I was beginning to think you were going to leave me here," he said tiredly.
"The thought did cross my mind," Havoc smirked getting a cautious chuckle from Mustang.
"You know I would have if I were in your shoes."
"Yeah, I know."
He finished bandaging Mustang's leg and helped him up. It took awhile to make their way out of the underground bunker; Mustang leaning heavily on Havoc for support, wincing if he set his broken leg down and cringing as he tried to lift it. Finding a good spot to rest outside against the heavy bunker doors, Havoc eased Mustang down and dropped beside him exhausted.
It had been dusk when they arrived, now the sun had completely set and it was dark enough to see the stars twinkling over head. There were some lights still working back the way they came in the Drachman camp. After resting for a few minutes Havoc got up reluctantly. "I'll scrounge around for something to bury the evidence. Maybe something to eat and drink while I'm at it."
He didn't get a confirmation. Mustang was out cold, his breathing irregular. Havoc left, not bothering to wake him.
An hour later after another search he found some rations, canteens of water, painkillers and just enough explosives to cover the evidence of what had been done in the underground base. He wondered about the amount of explosives that had been destroyed earlier on their first trip and what was still left. He figured the Drachmans planned on expanding the underground base, in anticipation of their "growing army".
He packed everything into a jeep and drove carefully back to the bunker. He was feeling the fatigue now. His movements were sluggish and slow. He couldn't remember the last time he slept more than twenty minutes. But he pushed through the exhaustion as he set the explosives underground in the room where the homunculi were, the office and just inside the entrance of the bunker, laying the fuse line carefully. Getting Mustang back on his feet Havoc nearly had to carry him to the jeep. But Mustang stopped him suddenly.
"What's wrong?" Havoc asked worriedly.
"Let me do it."
"Alright," Havoc nodded knowing what Mustang meant. He helped the Fuhrer hobble back to the end of the fuse line and picked it up. Mustang snapped his fingers but nothing happened. He snapped again and again, getting irritated.
"Too tired?" Havoc guessed.
"No," Mustang said looking confused as he frowned at his hand. "I have enough energy to create a small spark."
He tried several more times but still nothing happened. Finally Havoc dug his lighter out and gave it to Mustang. He glared as he swiped it from Havoc like it was a step down for him; to be reduced to using something so mundane as a lighter. He fumbled with it and Havoc stifled a laugh. Mustang ignored him and finally lit the lighter and touched it to the fuse. It sparked and crackled as it ran up the line.
"How long do we have?" Mustang asked as Havoc helped him into the back seat of the jeep.
"A couple minutes," Havoc said jumping into the drivers seat and started the engine. Putting the jeep into gear he drove away quickly. "I set three fuses, they meet up with the main one underground where they'll divide and hit the homunculi chamber, the office with all the research and then the bunker doors."
They were about fifty yards away when there was the sound of a muffled explosion. The ground shook slightly, hardly felt in a moving vehicle but several seconds later there was a much louder and earth shaking explosion. Safely out of range Havoc stopped. He turned around to watch the fireworks. Mustang was looking back as well. There were a few more fiery explosions from the mouth of the underground bunker. The thick metal doors were blown off and sent hurtling off in the distance. Tongues of flame shot out and spiraled to the ground. Black smoke began to obscure the opening which had collapsed. They sat there watching, faces slightly lit up by the red and orange flickering flames.
"That's it," Mustang said softly with a sigh. He looked away. "We'd better go. Ed and Al may need us."
"Like you'd be much help," Havoc snorted thinking of the bone that was sticking out of Mustang's leg.
But it wasn't what the Fuhrer was thinking as he looked at his gloved hand, flexing his fingers. Havoc didn't say anything else. He turned back around and put the jeep into gear.