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Chapter 9

Rebecca's fingers tapped against the driver's wheel off beat, the music that crooned through the static of the radio a piano that Havoc hummed along with. She was utterly frayed and he was utterly calm; Riza thought that if she had to sit in the car any longer with them she'd go insane. Her hands were already shaking where they were pressed to the skin of her thighs, clammy with the moisture that perspired across her body.

She was nervous, absolutely and incredibly nervous. In an attempt to perhaps make things easier on her, she'd worn some of Rebecca's clothing. A mid-thigh skirt, a pair of heels, a purple blouse with the first couple buttons opened to reveal the curve of her throat. Roy hadn't seemed like the kind of man to be enthralled with appearances, but he was a man. Any other distraction to lead him away from the notion that Riza was about to ultimately betray him was warmly welcome, even if it was uncomfortable.

They were parked outside of Command, across the street, with the front gates in plain sight. Grumman was scheduled to be back tomorrow morning and this had been the second time that the trio planned a stake-out waiting for the colonel to leave the building. They'd tried yesterday, but either Mustang had taken the day off or never left to go home. Either way, they were cutting it close. The Commander would be beyond angry if Riza blundered this one up, considering that she was even lucky he let her have this chance in the first place.

"This guy is a workaholic," Rebecca muttered under her breath. "And you met him at a bar? I don't see how."

"It's only half past six," Riza replied evenly, in a controlled voice. Amazingly, since she felt like she was flying to pieces on the inside. Rebecca snorted at her but Riza could barely pay her any mind. She should have worn more clothes; he was going to think she looked ridiculous.

And what did that matter? she thought with a twinge of bitter sarcasm. She was about to take him hostage, rip him from his life. He was going to hate her passionately despite any ties they had made before hand. The last thing she needed to be worried about was her appearance. What the hell had gotten into her?

"Yo, black hair, looks Xingese-ish. Is this our guy?" Havoc said suddenly, interrupting Riza's train of thought. Thankfully. She was thinking like an idiot.

She turned her eyes out the window of the vehicle and it was instant, the kind of affect that seeing Mustang's face had on her. Her anxiety melted as she remembered how he looked when he smiled. It would be no problem to get him alone. He would follow her because he trusted her. This was going to be cake; she had no reason to worry.

Resolutely, she steeled herself against knowing that she was going to betray him, that she could never hope to be his friend after she committed this act. He would absolutely loathe her, and she knew that. Expected it. Welcomed it, as long as he was still alive.

"Yes, that's him," Riza murmured. She tapped both of her friends' shoulders and they turned to face her where she sat in the backseat, loading her handgun. "Follow behind discreetly and whatever you do, don't jump the gun. Remember the plan. I'll signal to you when the coast is clear." She sheathed her gun inside her purse and closed the bag tightly. The skirt was much too tight to hide a weapon on her thigh.

Rebecca reached back and squeezed her wrist as she opened the door. "Please be careful, Riza."

She smiled at the concern on her friend's face. "I'm more worried about you two. Behave, okay?"

Havoc began to protest childishly at her comment, but Riza shut the door before he could say anything more. Taking a deep breath, she tugged down the sleeves of her blouse and clutched her purse. Her face softened; she smoothed out her mask and crossed the street so that she would be on the sidewalk that Mustang would turn down. She hid behind a particularly thick pillar of the front gate until she thought that he was close enough to notice her and then she began to walk.

Satisfaction surged through her at the incredulity in his voice, though it was accompanied by anguish. How she wish she didn't have to trick him. "Riza?"

She paused, pretending to be astonished as she turned toward the sound of his voice. It seemed he had grown even more handsome in the weeks that she'd been face to face with him. "Roy?"

He laughed disbelievingly and skipped down the last few steps of Command before coming to a rest at her side. The smile on his face was contagious and Riza found herself mirroring his expression, though her stomach churned sickeningly. He could be dead right now, she reminded herself. You could do worse things.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he said and the warmth in his voice doubled the guilt that pressed on her shoulders.

"I could say the same," she said in as light a voice as she could manage, peeking over his shoulder at the large complex behind him. "You didn't tell me you were a military officer."

He chuckled and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Caught me." For the first time, he seemed to note her outfit and she almost blushed at the appraisal in his eyes. Slowly, he looked back up to her. "Where are you going?" His voice was much heavier now and the nervous jump in the guilty swirly mess of her stomach surprised her.

"I was just on my way home from work," she explained somewhat shyly.

"It's kind of dark out," he replied, his eyes darting once more to her exposed legs. "Do you usually walk home in the dark?"

She shook her head, hoping that she still remembered enough details from her story last time she met Roy that she wouldn't blow her cover immediately. Kidnapping him was going to save his life, she tried to remind herself. This was saving him. Oh, how she wished there was another way. Why did he have to work for the military?!

"Usually, my grandfather gives me a lift, but he's out of town for the weekend," she told him. She allowed herself to smile slightly and it made her sick to see him smile back at her. She didn't deserve that. "I can handle myself; don't worry about it."

"I know you can," he said before running a hand through his hair. "Look, Riza, I. . .know you said that we'd never meet again but I'd really prefer to walk you home." He looked at her awkwardly. "I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if I didn't."

She saw the gears in his head turning, watching him deduct that she would refuse given that she refused him last time they'd met. A part of her was tempted to deny him now, but that wouldn't keep him safe the way she wanted it to. This was her choice. Abducting him was the only way to save his life and while he wouldn't know it at first, maybe eventually he would understand.

Besides, she knew that as soon as she consented to the walk, he would offer her a sly smile that would make her skin feel electrified, no matter how the guilt weighed on her.

Trying to look flustered, Riza slowly nodded and allowed the blush she'd been holding back to color her face ever so slightly. "I'd like that," she murmured quietly.

It was ridiculous that he should look so happy. Idiot. Trusting her so easily. He made kidnapping him ridiculously simple and she would laugh if she didn't hate herself for this. "Lead the way, then," he said graciously, gesturing before him.

He walked too close to her. She could handle any situation with Mustang, but his proximity was making her thoughts hazy. Which was bad. It reminded her why she'd severed all contact with him in the first place. He was too dangerous; she was unpredictable because she couldn't be sure what he would do. It scared her.

Of course, he was a fairly open book now; she doubted anyone could pretend to be so genuinely delighted. And this coming from the man that she'd seen through the sight of her rifle with a grumpy look on his face. Such a different end of the spectrum. She supposed that she'd be on the sour end of his expressions by the end of the night.

"So how have you been?" he asked, sounding slightly anxious. Her eyes caught a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye; the anxiety seemed to be caused by something other than the situation, as he didn't look particularly nervous. Then he hadn't noticed the vehicle following behind them at a slow pace.

"I've been well," she admitted curtly, gently, though she hadn't been. Tormented by memories of his kindness. Knowing that she'd never find something quite like that for the rest of her life. He had made a complete mess of her emotions, and she was trying to hide it from everyone at the compound. And then, after the elation of finding a face to put to the purpose of taking down the military, his face appeared in the scope of her rifle. How utterly cruel. "And you?"

He shrugged and her heart leapt into her throat when his elbow rubbed against hers just barely. "Just fine. A little stressed, but who isn't these days?"

She looked over, hoping her eyes conveyed kindness and not the despair that really curled in her chest. "Want to tell me about it?" That wasn't part of the plan. The words had tumbled out of her mouth of their own accord and now they were stuck between her and Roy where she couldn't take them back.

Hesitation seemed to hold him back for a moment but then he sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I shouldn't," he explained, glancing over at her. "Wouldn't want to worry you unnecessarily."

"Is it about the Resistance?" she asked softly. She couldn't have retained the words if she tried.

He seemed surprised. "How did you know about that?"

"I know more than you give me credit for," she replied flippantly, though her mouth tasted sour. If she told him here and now that she was from the Resistance, what would he do?

"They haven't done anything to you, have they?" he pressed, his voice sounding dark. She waved him off with as much cheer as she thought was characteristic.

"No! I've got my guns, Roy." She rolled her eyes playfully and turned the corner of the street, leading him down a dimly lit road that was almost deserted. "It's me they're afraid of." If only he knew how much truth was actually in her words. Her stomach roiled sickeningly as he continued trusting her, leading him down an empty street. No one would see him disappear.

They alley was to her left now. She took in a deep breath to steady her hammering heart and then took Roy by the wrist and pulled him into the dark corridor. He was silent, but he felt tense as she tugged him into the shadows and his eyes reflected the light of the moon so she could see the confusion there.

"I think someone is following us," she whispered, though it hurt her to say it. She didn't want to hurt him.

"Really?" While he had his back turned to peek around the corner, she rifled through her purse for the syringe that Havoc had smuggled out of the medical center back at the compound. Gripping it firmly in her hand, she never gave Roy the chance to face her again.

Shoving him against the brick wall, she pressed her chest to his back and braced her high heeled feet against the concrete, plunging the needle into the side of his neck. He yelled out in shock and tried to reach back to swat at her, tried to push away from the wall, but the morphine was working inexplicably through his veins already. She felt him going limp beneath her and the tears formed in small droplets at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said, the drops of water rolling down her cheeks. Her hand plucked away the empty syringe and she threw it on the ground, overcome with the grief of what she had done to a man who had trusted her, to her only friend outside of the compound. He wouldn't hear the apologies she whispered into his neck; the medicine had knocked him out cold and it was Riza, still pressing her body against his, that kept him upright against the wall.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled, pressing her face to the rough wool of his uniform. Her tears darkened the material and she tried to gather herself before Havoc and Rebecca would pull up to the sidewalk, but she wondered if she had ever hated herself more. Killing someone was an offense that stained her hands with blood, but betraying someone who trusted her in the absolute worst way made her feel sick unlike anything else.

After a few moments of regaining composure that she never should have lost in the first place, she turned him and slowly guided him to the ground. The site at his neck where she'd pushed the needle in was puffy, but other than that, she had avoided hurting him in any physical way. That was a relief; at least he wouldn't have to begrudge her of that.

She knelt before him and took the handkerchief out of her purse, tying a gag around his mouth with as much care as she could allow under the circumstances. When he woke he would no doubt be disoriented and very angry. Hopefully, he'd remain sedated until they got back to the compound and contained him in a room but precautions were mandatory. She didn't want him to hurt Rebecca or Havoc, but she also wanted to protect Roy as well.

"This is such a fine mess you've gotten yourself into, Hawkeye," she muttered with self-loathing. Could she go through life without hurting anyone close to her or was she just a time bomb? Well, with Grumman weaseling as close to her as he could get. . .

She shook her head. No. Do not go down that path.

Her eyes turned back to Roy's face, now lit by a slice of moonlight peering over the top of the buildings. He had fine facial features, she thought, blinking at him. It was by sheer luck that she had ever gotten the chance to be smiled at by him; she'd gotten more than she deserved anyway. Another smile would never cross his face, not while he was looking at her.

"I really am sorry," she said, reaching out to tenderly sweep his bangs out of his closed eyes. Her whole body felt heavy with the guilt, despite having saved his life. You'll never know how truly sorry I am.

Only a minute later, Rebecca was putting the car in park as she pulled up to the curb. Riza stood guard over Roy's limp body and watched as Havoc left the car, his face grim as he took in the scene.

"You look upset," he noted as he brushed past her to heave the military colonel off the ground. A grunt of surprise crossed Havoc's lips; Mustang must have been heavier than he initially thought.

"I don't know why I'd be upset," she snapped at him, coming to help with the weight.

Rebecca opened the back door of the vehicle and pushed the pillows and blankets aside before Riza and Havoc lowered the unconscious man down. After they'd situated him in a reasonably comfortable position, Rebecca leaned in and snapped a pair of shackles around his ankles and his wrists. He wouldn't be going anywhere without assistance anytime soon.

Riza thought she was doing a remarkable job concealing her emotions as Havoc slammed the door shut, Rebecca immediately jumping into the driver's side and poising her foot to take off the clutch. The mask on the sniper's face cracked a little when Havoc slid into the backseat with her instead of opting for the front with Rebecca.

"What are you doing?" Riza asked as he pulled the door shut behind him.

He didn't answer, only wrapped around his arms around her shoulders and pulled him into her chest as Rebecca wordlessly took off down the street. She blinked against his warm body before she found her hands clutching at his shirt, pulling him in tighter against her.

"I don't know what happened between you and that colonel," Havoc said after a moment, "but I did see his face when he recognized you, Hawkeye, so you can't fool me. Don't lie to me. I can't help you if you lie to me."

Her grip tightened and his smell plugged her nose and she knew with so much certainty that Havoc was irreplaceable as her own soul. "I'm sorry," she whispered out against his chest after a long stretch of silence. That seemed to be the only word she could say today.

She felt his laugh more than she heard it. "You're incredible."

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It was supposed to have been a simple mission. Riza's plan was to be Roy's bodyguard when they'd gotten back to the compound because this was unprecedented. The Resistance didn't take hostages; they singled out the problem officers in the military and killed them in their own offices. They didn't risk their lives to kidnap them and certainly not such a high ranking one as a colonel.

Which was why Riza was mad at herself for believing that this mission was going to be quiet. She overestimated the value of privacy that other members of the Resistance held for their fellow comrades; she knew without a doubt that the only people who knew of their recon mission to kidnap Colonel Roy Mustang besides Grumman and Armstrong were Rebecca, Havoc, and herself, and none of them would have leaked a word about it. Which meant that there had at some point been an eavesdropper.

At least thirty people stood outside the garage of the old warehouse, all of them holding guns, most of them older veterans of the cause. Rebecca cursed loudly as she pulled the vehicle to a stop and put on the parking break. "What are these idiots doing?"

Riza tried not to grit her teeth as she reached for the latch on the door and threw it open.

"Where do you think you're going?" Havoc demanded, grabbing her wrist before she could exit the car.

"I'm going to go talk to them," she said coolly. "Let go of me."

"Without a weapon?"

She looked at him over her shoulder. They both knew that Riza Hawkeye armed was more dangerous than half of the mob outside. "They don't need to see a threat, they need to see reason. I'll be fine; just. . .be prepared, okay?"

He relinquished his hold on her reluctantly and sat back as she slammed the door shut. She tried to smile reassuringly at him and Rebecca as she walked toward the group of people but it felt half-hearted and bland at best. A part of her could feel the anger welling up inside; after everything she'd been through tonight, having to deal with these bunch of idiots was not something she was looking forward to.

"Is there a problem here?" she asked loudly as she marched forward to meet them, concealing the contempt in her voice.

"No problem, Hawkeye," the man at the front said in cool voice, though he sounded sincere. "Just doing our duty."

"And what's that?" She came to a stand still about ten feet from the leader - for the life of her she couldn't remember his name - and propped her hands on her hips. Their eyes were stuck to her tightly and it took her a moment to remember that she was dressed unconventionally from her usual garb.

The man sounded like he was smiling. "Working as prison guards, miss."

Her voice hardened into steel. "Under whose orders?"

"Commander Grumman's, ma'am."