November 5th, 1958
The next morning the four alchemists met the military truck when it pulled up outside the house in the still-falling snow. Fortunately it was down to flurries and the roads were being plowed again. Ed was sure none of them looked any more refreshed than they actually were. He had finally dozed off at some point and gotten maybe two or three hours of sleep. Al looked irritated and dragging. Ed was convinced that Roy was hung-over and hiding it. Tore was the only one who looked like he had slept at all, and Ed wasn't going to voice the fact that the kid was the only one whose wife wasn't missing.
They let the soldiers drive as they headed out of town. They were more experienced with this weather and the area anyway. It would make things go faster. Tore sat up front with the soldiers, looking anxiously and yet eagerly out the windows. Ed, Al, and Roy sat in the back and pretended they were capable of patience.
"This is ridiculous," Roy grumbled as the truck made its way through the early morning streets, still mostly clear of traffic. "For a matter like this there should be a government investigation going on; military mobilization to go after these guys; not a couple of token soldiers and a beat up truck."
"Be grateful we have that much," Al suggested, though he didn't really look any more pleased than Roy did.
"There's nothing they could do that the three of us can't," Ed nodded, though he felt sour this morning. He wanted to hit something – or someone, preferably whoever had gotten their hands on Winry. There would be violence when he got a hold of those men! "Do you really think there's any one out in those mountains, alchemists or no, who can take the three of us?"
Roy smirked, apparently pleased by the egotism of the statement. "Of course not. Still, it doesn't change the fact that our hosts who so dearly hoped to change things are hardly lifting more than a finger to help."
The truck cab fell into deep silence. If the two Drachman soldiers understood Amestrian, they were either very good at holding their tongues, or paying more attention to the treacherous roads. Either way, Ed didn't care if this was just another three missing women to the local authorities; as far as he was concerned this was an Amestrian national emergency!
His attempts at patience failed very quickly.
Winry could not remember the last time she had been so sore. She suspected it might well be the day Ethan was born and even that memory seemed gentle in comparison to the hard, cold truck bed on which she currently lay on her stomach, arms tied behind her back and ankles bound together. Every bump in the road jostled her bruised body and made her head ache with a constant throbbing.
When she turned her head to the side, she could see Riza, also tied, lying on her side facing her, and barely catch a glimpse of Elicia. The truck was apparently heated up front, because occasional warmer air came from behind her, but it wasn't enough to keep her from shivering without her coat.
Riza was awake too. Both women were gagged, making real conversation impossible. They had first been shoved into one truck and drugged with something held up to their noses that knocked them unconscious. Winry vaguely remembered a foggy haze of time when they were walked from one truck to another, and then dosed again she supposed because time blanked after that too.
She had awoken as she was now, with no idea what time it was or how long it had been since they had been attacked in the street. By now surely Edward knew they were missing? She couldn't imagine the guys weren't looking for them, but she had no way of knowing if there was a search going on, or if anyone had any idea at all of where they were being taken.
If they did, it was more than Winry knew. She still had no idea why they had been kidnapped in the first place. It might well be politically motivated, but the men who had attacked them seemed to be familiar with their work and that implied that Winry, Riza, and Elicia were only three victims in something much larger.
Not that they were going to stay victims for long if Winry had anything to say about it! At the first opportunity they would escape. What worried her most right now, was the fact she had barely seen Elicia stir. She was breathing, but she still appeared to be unconscious.
Riza's expressions said she knew no more than Winry did, but that she agreed that they needed to break out. It was a good thing they knew each other well or communication would have been impossible. As it was, general ideas could be expressed with a little facial gesturing and badly garbled mumbling through gags.
The truck came to a stop, and the settling lurch sent Winry falling against a wooden crate behind her. Owww…I want a refund on the travel arrangements.
The back of the covered truck opened, but the only light that came in was reflecting off the snow outside. Silhouetted figures jumped up into the truck and with banging footsteps came over and hauled Winry and the others to their feet. One of them bodily picked up Elicia.
Winry tried to struggle against them. The door was open, they could escape! For her troubles the two men holding her smacked her on the tender spot on her head where she had been knocked out the first time. Stars and pain exploded fresh and she had to struggle just to stay on her feet as they dragged her out of the truck and down into the snow. By the time her vision cleared again they were inside a building of some sort, going down a flight of stairs. Then she was tossed down, slamming hard onto a stone floor.
To her surprise, the gag was removed. As she tried to work moisture back into her mouth and clear her vision, she heard a creak and a slam, then keys rattling. Great, what was this, a cell?
As soon as Winry could see, she realized it was just that. She didn't know where they were, but they were definitely in a cell. In a basement or cellar perhaps? From the little bit of bluish-white light filtering in from above, she could see the very edges of the stairs they had come down, the glint of metal bars, and then Riza lying on the floor beside her. Definitely a basement cellar. "Riza, are you okay?" she managed to ask.
There was a long moment of silence. "Besides a splitting headache, I am fine for the moment." Riza sounded irritated. "They took my gun."
Winry shivered in the cold. "Where's Elicia."
"The next cell," Riza replied. "I can see her past you."
So they weren't even all together. At least they hadn't been fully separated. "So," Winry asked, "How about we get out of here?"
"I think that sounds like an excellent plan," Riza replied with a soft snort. "I've been working at these ropes all day. If I can just get my hands in front of my face I think I can untie yours."
"How do you plan to do that?" Winry asked curiously.
As she watched, Riza began to curl herself up, moving her hands down towards her hips as she brought her legs to her chest. Riza paused for several seconds then chuckled wryly. "I had narrower hips the last time I did this."
"Didn't we all?" Winry chuckled. Childbirth would do that.
Still, with a little more wiggling, Riza got her hands past her hip bones and, slowly, one leg at a time, she managed to bring her feet through the loop.
"Ingenious," Winry commented when Riza was done.
"Flexibility," Riza counter-argued. "Can you roll over?" She flexed her fingers.
"If you can do that I'm sure I can managed that much," Winry replied, feeling emboldened by the chance to do something.
Suddenly the ceiling above them shot bright with narrow streams of golden light and she froze, startled, until she realized that it was a floor! There was definitely a building above them, and a fairly old or cheap one if all it had was plank flooring above the basement.
Voices came through the cracks with useful clarity. Unfortunately, they were still speaking in Drachman. Winry listened intently, hoping Riza picked up more than she did.
::You completely screwed that up!:: one man growled at another and what sounded like paper hitting wood followed. ::It's all over the news. You had to grab those women? Are you daft?::
::They looked like good targets,:: the other man stammered. ::How was I supposed to know they were the alchemists' wives?::
::Three well off Amestrian women?:: the man snorted. ::I guess we'll have to use them to our advantage.::
::But we promised Tamirov three new test subjects!:: The other voice objected.
::So we give him splits on the ransom. He'll take money,:: the angry voice retorted more thoughtfully. ::Besides, the older two are out of the age range for his experiments. Only the youngest is still viable anyway.::
::You'd know,:: the timid man replied. ::So what now?::
::I'll take the youngest with me. You stay here and keep guard over the other two until I have a chance to discuss this with Tamirov.::
Winry wasn't sure how much else they said and hoped she had understood the conversation properly. Horror filled her veins. They did know who they were, and still they were going to take Elicia!
Riza looked just as angry. "We have to get out of here," she replied. "Winry move!"
"Right." Winry had forgotten all about rolling over. With a little leverage she managed to shove herself over so her hands were near Riza's. She felt the ropes come loose less than a minute later. The biting eased, though they continued to sting. Still it was a massive improvement. She sat up and turned around, quickly doing the same for Riza. "Elicia's still unconscious." They both started to work on their leg bindings.
"And in the other cell," Riza sighed. "How are we going to get out of here?"
Winry wasn't sure. How… wait. In a moment of potentially vain hope, she reached up into her hair. "I have a hair pin," she replied triumphantly as she pulled it out.
"You're going to pick the locks?" Riza looked momentarily skeptical.
Winry smirked, feeling much more confident than she had in hours. She was free and she had a tool. "It's been a while, but it's not that difficult."
The door at the top of the stairs thumped as a bar shifted.
"We're out of time," Riza replied, cursing softly.
"Quick, the ropes." Winry wrapped them back around her legs so they would look right, then draped the rest around her wrists in an easy to remove binding and lay down, her hands away from the doors so no one would see them. Riza did the same. They both closed their eyes and tried to look unconscious.
The man who came down was grousing to himself, and clearly the tougher of the two men upstairs. There was a rattle and a tin plate slid under the cell door into their confinement.
Then there was rattling and the door to the next cell opened. ::Stupid foreigners,:: he groused. ::Never do know how to handle things. So soft too. Look at them. I hope Tamirov likes this one. They're already more of a pain than they're worth to me.:: There was the sound of a soft hefting grunt and a body being lifted. Then footsteps as the man went back across the dark cellar and up the stairs. Then the door slammed shut again heavily.
Winry lay still for another minute despite the almost irresistible urge to leap up and try and run after Elicia! Damn it! By the time she picked the lock the man would likely be gone anyway. She heard the sound of a car motor a moment later, and then it pulling away and vanishing into the distance. "Let's get the heck out of here," she whispered, sitting up sharply as soon as it got quiet.
The tin in their cell turned out to be luke-warm potatoes and beef, not very tasty either, but Winry realized just how hungry she was as she made herself take a few bites with one of the dented forks stuck in it. How long had it been since they had eaten? Then while Riza ate the rest, Winry worked on the door as quickly as she could manage.
It only took two minutes to open the lock, and that was because it was old and didn't want to pop open. "That was easy," Winry stuck the pin back in her hair. "Let's get out of here and find help."
"We've got to rescue Elicia," Riza agreed. "And find weather wear if possible. We can't go running around in the snow for too long without coats." Neither of them had theirs anymore. Winry's had been ripped off in the fight and apparently Riza and Elicia's had been removed.
"Upstairs?" Winry suggested. Though she hated the thought of delay, the idea of freezing was even worse.
"If there's not still a truck outside with anything," Riza replied, nodding. "Let's go."
They hurried up the stairs and tried the door from inside. It took some effort, but it came open. They did not stop in the doorway. Waiting would only give the man inside time to come looking for them if he had heard the noise and came to investigate.
Icy wind buffeted them and sliced right through Winry's warm wool sweater and the shirt underneath it. Snow blew around them, though it seemed to be from the ground and not falling. She was about to step around the corner when Riza's hand on her sweater yanked her backwards. "There's a third." She gestured into the snow.
Winry looked more carefully, and a shape resolved itself, walking in their direction. Not good! Winry glanced around frantically and spotted a snow covered bucket which looked like it had bars of metal sticking out. She grabbed at one and pulled out a crowbar. Another revealed a small shovel.
"You get behind him," Riza suggested."I'll-"
"Too late!" Winry squeaked as the man saw them and picked up a run, barreling into Riza.
Winry spun and swung purely on instinct, feeling a sickening crack and crunch under the crowbar's heft as it hit the Drachman in the head. He dropped immediately.
"Thanks." Riza shook herself and looked down at the body, lying in the already trampled snow right in front of the door. "I'm out of practice. I should have heard him."
"Snow makes it hard," Winry offered the excuse. She ignored the squeamish feeling in her stomach. She had never killed before.
"Let's put him in the cellar," Riza suggested. Together they hefted the dead body downstairs, laying him in the furthest back cell there was. It was darkest there.
Winry was glad there was no blood on the snow. But they really needed to get moving now. The man upstairs – if he still was – would eventually figure out his buddy was missing. Back upstairs, she looked around. The truck was gone. There wasn't a whole lot of traffic on the road here though it seemed. The tracks pulled up to the house from one direction, and then much newer and deeper ruts took off to the right, West. The building was indeed a dilapidated house along the base of a cliff set back just a little from the road on the north side.
Riza closed the door behind them and dropped the bar in place, locking it shut. "Let them think we're in there as long as possible."
"Do we go inside?" Winry asked. Her head throbbing, battered, bruised, and cold she wasn't sure if she'd be much help in taking down the man inside. They also couldn't be entirely sure that there was only the one now. They had been captured by so many, and only heard two in conversation. The third had already been an unpleasant surprise. Riza looked fairly beaten up too.
"Let's head East," Riza suggested after a moment. "Look at the clouds."
Winry glanced to her left and noticed what Riza meant. There was the glow of city lights turning the clouds pink. It might be miles, but there was something there even if Winry doubted it was Petrayevka after driving for so long. She was glad she was dressed for cold weather aside from having lost her coat and gloves. "Let's get moving. Maybe we can find someplace between here and there to take shelter." They just needed to get moving.
"Roy won't be far behind us," Riza replied with steady assurance.
"Ed and Al too," Winry agreed, hoping that sounding confident would help her feel more assured. "If we keep to the tire tracks the snow's not so deep," she suggested.
Hurrying at a fast walk to conserve energy, Riza and Winry headed back up the mountain road, hoping to find shelter, or rescue, and that they wouldn't have to turn back just to survive.
Winry felt guilty for not going the other direction. We'll come find you, Elicia. As soon as we can I promise we'll get you away from them.
November 6th, 1958
Alphonse was ready to scream. Of course, he had been for most of the day but he had refrained, hoping at any moment they would come upon the girls and their captors and the nightmare would be over.
They had driven all day through falling snow, which had stopped around mid-afternoon about the time they stopped in a small village for gasoline for the truck. No one had any leads and so they went on. At that point in the mountains there were few branch roads, so it seemed unlikely that the men they were pursuing would have diverted from it. The officers with them knew the area and were certain that the alchemical lab was nowhere near there. As it turned out, they did know some Amestrian.
They had moved on, driving on into the darkness with no leads, no buildings, no branching roads; nothing. It got dark and still they drove. Food had been rations in the truck with them, but that was hardly filling and it was all pre-prepared to avoid cooking so it was all cold. They only took a pit stop when someone absolutely had to go, and those were brief.
The world seemed to close to nothing but the darkness, the walls of rock around them, and the strip of white in front. Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts, so there was little conversation now. Al wondered if Roy and Ed were as wrapped up in their own horrible fantasies of what might have happened to the girls as Al was, though he tried to think positively. The longer things took, the harder it was to remain optimistic.
A short gasp from the front seat made him sit up sharply. "What?" he asked, noticing that Roy and Ed had jerked into alertness too.
Tore looked sheepish as he turned his head around. "Sorry I… I was thinking."
"What were you thinking?" Ed asked his student.
Tore looked like he didn't want to say. "I… it just occurred to me that maybe this is what happened to my Mom."
There was a moment of awkward silence.
"That's possible," Ed admitted softly.
Tore nodded. "Uncle Pierce was an alchemist. He's the one who brought her to Drachma right?"
Al felt a feeling of mild horror settle on him at that thought as much as the worry over Elicia and the others. "You think he brought her to the alchemists?"
Tore shrugged. "The doctors in the city said they couldn't have done anything right? Maybe it wasn't really doctors he was bringing her to see."
"That makes sense," Ed commented thoughtfully, his chin resting in one hand. "Though I don't like the sound of it. Think they duped him? They don't sound particularly charitable."
::They're not,:: the driver, Lieutenant Vizhenko, commented flatly. One of the few things he had said, though the two men had gotten a little more conversational as the day went on and they realized the three Generals with them were not sticklers for propriety.
"It would explain why they never came home," Tore nodded. "I… I just hope that means maybe we'll find them."
Al didn't voice what they were all thinking; if his mother and uncle hadn't been used for alchemical experiments themselves. "Maybe we will," he replied simply.
"I wish we'd gotten anything useful from Petrayevka," Roy commented, changing the subject. "But there's been no ransom demands, no leads, nothing more than what we're already following." They had radioed back a couple of times but with no affirmative results in reply. No new leads either.
"Which just makes them idiots," Ed quipped sardonically. "Talk about going for the wrong targets."
"Well they'll learn just how stupid they are soon enough," Roy replied. "Assuming they survive."
"Hey now," Al objected. "Don't you think you're jumping the gun a little?" He was ready to fight for his wife, but Roy sounded awfully cavalier about just killing whoever they came across.
He should have been expecting Roy and Ed's replies, which came in perfect unison. "No!"
::There is a town up ahead,:: Vizhenko cut in to the argument. ::We should stop for the night. We need to refuel again anyway.::
"We'll refuel," Ed nodded grimly, "But we keep going."
Both Drachman officers looked dubious and exhausted but the other one, Major Maskovich, nodded. ::Yes, Sir.::
Al hated yet another delay, but it wasn't as if it could be helped. If the truck ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere they would be stranded, and the delay in rescuing Elicia and the others would be even longer. He just hoped she was all right; or at least somewhere warm and safe instead of out in the weather.
Cold ached, then it burned, and then it went numb. Winry couldn't feel her face, or her toes in her boots; her fingers were tucked under her armpits to keep them warm as she and Riza trudged through the cold winter night. She had lost track of how long it was since they left the shack. She didn't know the hour or how far they had come. There was no way to judge really. She suspected it had to be at least five miles by now though, and while the glow of the town seemed closer they still had not reached it.
Her headache was only another small misery. Winry was fairly certain she didn't have a concussion, or she'd be much worse off by now, but it was small consolation. She was terrified for Elicia and losing confidence in her and Riza's survival the longer they were out in the open.
At least they did not appear to have anyone in immediate pursuit behind them. If they were lucky no one would notice they were gone before morning.
Winry glanced over at Riza, who stared ahead with grim determination, her hands also tucked under her arms, feet moving in a steady rhythm that seemed to be out of nothing left but sheer will. If they stopped, they would die eventually from exposure. It was just that simple.
Winry refused to give in, despite the heaviness of her eye-lids, the crying out of her body for real sleep, for food, warmth, the simplest elements of survival. In the dark, frigid night, Edward seemed very far away. Amestris, Central, their home, it might as well be a dream. Sara, Aldon, Ethan; her children, all too far away and with absolutely no idea that anything was wrong. Winry wondered if their absence had even been reported to Central or if the Drachmans were hiding the fact.
This nightmare was reality, and oh how Winry wished she was dreaming. "I wonder what the kids are up to," she asked into the cold. Riza was walking as close beside her as they could get without interfering with each other's movements; it offered them each just a little more warmth.
"Asleep most likely," Riza replied with an amused little smirk. "Even Maes doesn't stay up this late anymore. He gets pretty worn out helping Elena with their brood."
"How are they doing?" Winry asked. She couldn't take the silence anymore; the sound of the wind. Besides, she honestly wanted to know. It seemed miracle enough they were still married after Maes' near court-martial over a year ago. With three little children she doubted they had much private time.
"Better," Riza replied, her expression softening. "Maes still seems to feel like he hasn't atoned for his mistakes though, and that worries me."
"You don't think he'll do something stupid?" Winry asked. She didn't say again. She still felt sympathy toward Riza, Roy, and the whole family for the strain Maes' past actions had put on their family. He was a good-hearted man, but when he did do something foolish it tended to be big and public. Winry loved him like a nephew, but no one could deny that sometimes his common sense went out the window.
Riza shook her head. "No. He's too paranoid about it himself, but he's gone to the other extreme. He won't go out without Elena other than for work or missions. He's turned down three missions flat that Kane offered him because they would have taken him out of Central for more than two days. He's stopped drinking flat out too."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Winry asked. Given both Edward and Roy's issues, and how much of a problem that had been in both of Maes' major troubles, it sounded like the best decision Maes could have made. This was the most Riza had said on the subject of her son directly in quite some time.
Riza nodded. "As a point of fact yes, it's a very good thing. But I'm still worried. He tends to do things in absolutes, and when he does break it always goes explosively. He's so much like Roy." Sadness crossed her expression. "He wants so terribly to redeem himself, but I don't know if he'll ever see anything as enough."
Winry understood the problem then. She'd seen it with Edward in his low moments; when guilt ate away and become all-consuming. Roy too. Maes seemed far too inclined in that direction it was true. "It's hard to make anyone else see what they're not ready to accept," she agreed. "Hopefully Elena can do that." Maes' whole world was wrapped up in his wife and his family; Elena was a lovely, capable woman. If she couldn't help Maes through this than no one likely could.
"I hope so." Riza did not look as convinced or reassured as Winry had hoped she would. "Neither of them has been entirely the same since the hearings."
To that, Winry could think of nothing helpful or appropriate to say. Silence fell again as Winry stumbled and barely caught herself from going face first into the snow. Riza's quick grasp at her sweater was what really saved her. "Thanks," she straightened herself up.
"We'll make it," Riza replied instead of any of the responses Winry might have expected.
Winry smiled bravely and put her arm around Riza. Riza did the same. Refusing to slow down, sharing what little warmth they had, they continued onward.
Finding gas at that hour took some doing. The only station in town wasn't actually open. Edward had to resist the urge to pound something as the two Drachman officers routed out the owner of the station and got the pumps turned on. Only for the government did it get done. Still it was another half hour delay they didn't need.
While they waited, Ed, Al, and Roy drank a good bit of what remained of the coffee in the thermoses that they had brought with them. It was lukewarm or cold by now anyway, and thick sludge, but it wasn't icy and it was better than nothing. Tore made do with water and didn't complain even though Ed could tell from his expression the kid was getting tired of the stuff.
They refilled the thermoses with fresh hot coffee while the officers paid the man for his troubles, then they all piled back into the truck and headed off again.
"How far ahead can they really be?" Edward grumbled. He was tired, stressed out, irritated, and grouchy. "We may not have made any time on them at all, damn it!"
"They had at least a two hour head start on us in Petrayevka," Roy replied, unhelpfully matter-of-fact. "Another eleven hours easy before we got out of the city."
"More than half a day," Al sighed.
"Well aren't we all cheerful," Ed groused. He didn't care if he was bad company. Why start now? He hadn't even been able to really doze in the truck. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Winry. Worse, he saw the things they could be doing to her. He knew what alchemists were capable of doing to human subjects. The only time he'd nodded off he had immediately fallen into a dream in which Nina interposed with Winry. He'd jerked awake to find less than ten minutes had passed. If those were his dreams, he would prefer to remain awake.
"Well you aren't exactly mister positive," Roy replied snappishly.
"Would you both shut up already?" Al glared at them both. "That's enough."
Ed sighed and slumped back against the seat. It wasn't worth the effort of arguing anymore. Tore seemed to have passed out in the front seat. Both Drachman officers were wisely staying out of the disagreements of the men in the back seat who technically outranked them even if they weren't in the same military.
They were all close to breaking. It was pathetic really, but there it was. Neither Edward, nor Alphonse, nor Roy, could get along without their wives. They all knew it, and they were all scared shitless that they would never see Winry or Riza or Elicia again. The most precious women in the world were missing, captured, possibly to never be seen again.
Ed couldn't handle losing Winry again. He didn't have it in him.
