April 3rd, 1964

There was something exhilarating, and yet extraordinarily dull, about driving for days into enemy controlled territory that was so oddly familiar. Odd, only in that it was Amestrian soil. It was not a road Aldon had been on before, since he had taken the main train to and from Central to North City and up to Briggs. Not that he hadn't explored all over the area while they had lived up there. The several days of winding through back roads ever closer to Briggs by a horribly circuitous route started to wear on him quickly. He wanted to arrive! Now that they were finally going to Briggs he wanted to be there, find out who was alive, blow things sky-high, and get gone.
Never had he missed Cassie and the kids so much as during the drive towards Briggs. He and Cassie had gone there over a decade ago; young, in love, a little giddy with freedom. They had left married and expecting Coran; still young, still in love, but with a better sense of the world. Briggs had been good to them, despite its harshness. They had visited a couple of times since, though Ollie and Kit had never been able to come visit them in Resembool. They couldn't both get the time off at once usually, though they kept in touch.

"You're pensive tonight," his mother commented as she sat down next to him in a chair in the living room of the empty house they had rented from a small town they were passing through one night. The room was currently crowded with a good number of the people on the mission so they were hardly alone. The lights were on, there was a fire in the fireplace, and someone had gotten a few bottles of beer somewhere in town and they were making the circle. There wasn't enough for everyone to have one to themselves.

It was such an interesting lot, mixing the engineers in with the soldiers and alchemists… and his mother. She was also, he had noticed soon, the only woman on the mission. "I'm usually pensive," he replied with a smile and a shrug. "Just the usual ponderings."

"Well you think too much," Perry Faulkner, one of the other engineers from his unit, snickered as he shoved a beer in his hand. "Even for one of us."

"Gee thanks," Aldon snickered, and took a polite sip before handing it back. "What about you? Always moaning about your girl back home."

"Hey, I've got a really worry there," Perry laughed, sitting down across the small coffee table from them. "Someone could try and steal her away before I get home and propose."

"So you're saying I don't have to worry about someone trying to poach on my lovely, young wife?" Aldon called him on it with a smirk. Cassie was highly desirable in his opinion!

"Sure am," Perry replied. "You've got five boys right? Having seen the photos – ad nauseum I might add – to prove she's hot, most guys are going to assume she's pretty devoted to you. What's the point of going after a woman like that? Especially if it'd saddle you with someone else's five kids grown enough to know what's going on." He stopped there and took a drink.

All very good points. "Lucky me then," Aldon grinned. "The only men in the village that try to cut in at dances are the old men who say she looks like their favorite granddaughter."

Winry chuckled. "They always say that."

"Oh," Perry looked embarrassed, as if he hadn't really been paying attention. "You want some, Mrs. Elric?" He offered her a drink.

"No thank you," Winry shook her head and declined with a polite smile.

"I think there's tea going in the kitchen," Aldon commented then. "You want some, Mom?" He looked at her, and briefly contemplated how weird it was to have this conversation with his mother in a war zone.

"Thank you, Aldon," she smiled up thankfully. "I would love a cup of tea."

Aldon wouldn't mind one himself. "I'll get it." He stood up and headed for the kitchen as he heard his mother ask Perry more about himself. Questions Aldon already knew the answer to. He knew half the guys here already and, he knew, by the end of the mission he would probably know every one of them a little bit; and miss any they lost.

When this is over, I'm never leaving my family again.

April 5th, 1964

Winry looked through the binoculars the Brigadier General running the mission – a forty year old man by the name of Vernon Larkin – held up for her. Through them, she could see well the formerly impenetrable wall of Briggs. On this side, it still looked wholly intact. By now, she suspected they had repaired most of the damage on the other side. "I can't imagine trying to approach anywhere along there," she commented. They were parked way back in the hills amongst the trees to the south-east. Beyond them was nothing but a wide flat expanse leading all the way to the Fort.

"That's why we aren't," Larkin commented. "Our entrance is over there." He gestured to their right, where the Fort vanished into the mountainside. "The entrance is a door inside a cave up in those hills. The tunnel leads down into the rocks, and eventually to a door that runs right into the fort itself."

Winry tracked his finger with the binoculars, and could just barely make out, though it was far from a road, a jagged section of rocks that looked like it could be climbed, if barely. A bit of water trickling down it declared it a frozen waterfall, now thawing out, however much it did, for the spring. "So that's what we're climbing at night." It looked pretty treacherous.

"It's safe enough if you know the way," Lieutenant Robbs – one of those who had escaped Briggs by this very passage – commented. "Just too visible in daylight to patrols; especially on the approach. The climbing part is really only a couple of hours. After that there's a rough trail up to the cave." They would be leaving the trucks hidden.

"Everyone should be ready to go right after dark," Larkin commented. Behind them, Winry could hear the men stirring. "It will take an hour to walk to those mountains, despite how close it looks, two to scale, and another one to reach the cave. That's if we make our best possible time."

No wonder so few people had tried or managed to escape. Without a vehicle, it was a frigid day and a half walk to the nearest small village over the ridge. The one – Aldon had told her on the drive up – Cassie had been on her way back from when she and the other girls had gotten caught in the blizzard the day they found out she was pregnant with Coran.

Winry's own memories of Briggs were not so long-lived. The last time she had approached those gates she had been heavily pregnant with Sara. The last time she had left them, she had carried her daughter in her arms, and travelled home to Central to help nurse Edward back to health. Her memories were not all bad ones; but she had never particularly wanted to visit this wasteland again; especially not after Drachma. At least, she mused, she was getting fairly good at getting around in cold weather.

The night trek up to the cave was an arduous, tense hike. It was a cloudy night – like most – which was good, since it meant there was no distinct moonlight to give them away. However, that also made it difficult to see. They could not use flashlights or anything that might mark them out in the dark landscape. So they strung out, keeping close enough together to see the person ahead of them.

Winry breathed easier, if only for a moment, when they found the rock face and Lieutenant Robbs showed them the beginning of their climb. They weren't lost. They would find shelter and be able to hide before daybreak. At least, that was still the objective.

If there was anything Winry refused to admit, it was that there was anything she couldn't do now that she could do when she was thirty. Not that she had much rock climbing experience to begin with, but she would not let the steep hike daunt or slow her. Breathing deeply, ignoring the stitch that formed in her side half way up, Winry scrambled along, between Aldon and another of the engineers, keeping up so that no one would feel the need to offer the old lady on the trip any assistance.

The rocks were cold and rough, even under her gloves. Color she didn't know, and while she wasn't climbing straight up most of the time, it certainly seemed like it if she tried to look up or down. Really though, after the seeming water-fall, the trail turned into more of a twisty bed, then a trail zigzagging up into the rocks. She did not dare to relax until they moved away from the edge of the precipice, inland. Once they were no longer visible from the area below, she felt her heart beat a little easier. It helped that the trail also started to level out a little, at least comparatively.

They stopped finally for a break, which consisted of standing around, panting and warm for the moment, even in the cold night air; drinking warm water from canteens that had been stuffed under coats. It was not a long stop; they didn't want to stiffen up, get cold, or lose too much time.

Winry pushed on. The best she could tell, it was nearing midnight, if not already passed. They should be near their destination… right?

About five minutes later, a crack in the rock beside them resolved itself out of the darkness.

"Here we are," Robbs grinned, looking at the fissure with a satisfied smile. It was barely big enough for a man to squish through. Winry was sure she would fit, if snugly. She had no idea how anyone larger might get out, but she supposed it was possible if they contorted themselves.

It took nearly ten minutes to get everyone through the entrance and into the cave. It was only there, in the pitch black, that someone finally turned on a flashlight. Then another person dug out his, and soon several had popped on. Not that it did anything for warmth, but it was comforting! They took another short break before continuing on. Winry stuck close near Aldon as they wended their way down into the mountain. It was only slightly treacherous in places, a combination of carved tunnel and natural caverns. The tunnels were tight, but Winry found them homey, even when she had to duck occasionally to avoid a stalactite. At least they were homey in comparison to the open caverns that seemed to stretch out beyond them, swallowing the light from their flashlights as if it were nothing. Those places made her feel small and alone, even with the rest of the team. Get lost in one of those, and someone might never find you.

The temperature grew slightly warmer, and she guessed they must be honestly underground, possibly below even the top layers of Briggs. Winry had never been so happy to see a slab-metal door. When they came around a turn she almost cheered. Behind her, someone else did give a whoop.

"All right, everyone quiet," Robbs commented from the front of the line. "Through this door is another tunnel, but it comes out at the bottom level of Briggs in the back of the industrial areas. It's actual a part of the fort that's not used anymore. Not since the machinery was upgraded back practically at the turn of the century." He chuckled. "There's nothing particularly functional there anymore so it's used for storage for the mostly obsolete parts that are still needed on occasion. That's where our refugees should be in hiding, and where we will be basing our operations. I want everyone one to be quiet and on their best behavior."

Something that shouldn't bear saying, but often did. Winry nodded with the rest of them, now more eager to go forward. Not just to get out of the oppressive darkness, but to find the people they had come to help. Finally they could do something useful.

The door opened with an audible creak that made Winry cringe. She kept reminding herself that they were not likely to be heard by anyone dangerous. The Drachmans had, reportedly, not been down as far as this section of the Fort, despite their extensive sweeps. It was old, obsolete, and had been mostly blocked off. Apparently that had been further encouraged to keep them from being found. Though it made Winry wonder how they were sneaking in fresh supplies, for they had to be to survive. A very risky survival.

They walked for several minutes before they stopped at another door about half way down the long corridor. It was the first door they came to, though there appeared to be several more if they continued on. Robbs stopped and knocked in what appeared to be a rather complex pattern.

Winry was pretty sure she could copy it if she heard it one more time. She stood, waiting. Then there was a voice on the other side of the door. "Identification."

"It's Robbs," he replied. "I came back through the pass; I've brought reinforcements."

There was a moment's pause. "Who's with you?"

Aldon pushed past her then, and Winry noticed a bemused look on her son's face. "It's me Ollie," he replied. "Now let us in before I tell everyone here about the porcupine incident."

Aldon got a few funny looks, but the bolt shot back almost immediately and the door swung open.

Standing there, a bit ragged, scruffy, and underfed, stood a man Winry recognized after only a moment.

Ollie Larson looked past Robbs with a nod and then grinned broadly. "Don! You bastard, what took you so long to visit?" He came forward and he and Aldon exchanged a brief bone-crunching hug.

Aldon was grinning when they backed up. "The invitation must have got lost in the mail," he quipped. "Damn I'm glad you're alive."

"Me too," Ollie replied, looking around at all of them. His eyes lit on Winry and widened a moment. "Mrs. Elric?"

"We're a rather unorthodox rescue mission," Winry smiled. "How are you, Ollie?"

"Surviving." His expression returned to one more serious and to the point. "Come in," he gestured for them to follow him through the door. As soon as they were all inside the room, he closed it and shot home four bolts and two chains. There was nothing in the small room into which they were crowded, but Ollie led them into another short hallway and then another, larger room, which held boxes stacked against three walls, and a conference table with a handful of beat up chairs. "They stored all kinds of things down here that weren't in use anymore," he commented as he motioned for the Brigadier General, Robbs, and whoever else wanted to take a seat. "I'll let the others know you're here. We did get your last intelligence message that a team would be sent, but it had been long enough we weren't sure if you were actually coming."

When he left the room, Winry looked at the table and chairs more closely. They looked like they had been down here since she was a child if the style was any indication. The dim light coming from the one light bulb in the ceiling was grim. The walls were gray concrete and so was the floor. It was, fortunately, that unexpected warmth that came from being deeper within the earth still, or she knew it would have been far too cold. "How dismal."

"That describes Briggs most of the time," Robbs commented. "I was down here three months before I got out. We used to sneak out in small groups, then pairs when they started catching folks. They never found how we were getting out though, thank goodness. But there was no way we could get everyone out. Not when the entire Drachman army was parked outside, or when it was winter."

"Neither of which is quite the case at this moment," Winry acknowledged. Drachma was spread out all over the place now, and the weather was just warm enough to consider moving women, children, perhaps sick. They would get them out if they could, but their main mission had to come first.

Three men came back with Ollie, none of whom Winry recognized. They turned out to be one of the old senior foremen for fort operations, one of the long-time boiler and pipe crew heads, and a retired Colonel who had never left Briggs. Together they made up the leaders of the little hidden cell that remained deep down here.

"How many of you are left?" Larkin asked when they had sat down around the table. Winry had been offered a chair, and had accepted, too tired to turn down hospitality. It was late. She was a little surprised that they hadn't all been asleep.

"About a hundred," Colonel Taygh replied with a sigh. "The rest have gone, or been captured. Most of the folks working to keep Briggs running right now are under such close watch that they're still prisoners, even though they sleep in their own beds. About half of us down here are women or children. The families were the ones who fled first."

Unsurprisingly. "So you're prepared to help with the plan," Larkin replied. "The one outlined in our last correspondence."

Taygh nodded. "We are. Everyone is aware that when this is done we will be fleeing Briggs or, if they really want to stay, they will have to try and blend back in to the rest of the population or stay hidden indefinitely. We have blueprints of every area we think we can hit, and are ready and at your command, Brigadier General."

"Excellent," Larkin nodded. "But not tonight," he added with a gentler smile. "I think everyone could use some rest first."

"Indeed," the old foreman, a man named Orrens, nodded. "You'll all be shown to sleeping quarters and provided drinking water and wash water. We do have an old janitor's area down here that has a sink and two toilets. So there's often a line," he winked, "But they're functional. We'll also provide breakfast in the morning, so don't worry your heads about it."

As soon as the meeting was over, Ollie approached Winry and Aldon. "I've got you guys," he smiled. "There's a room next to ours for you two. It's been empty for a while, but it's got beds."

"It's got to be better than the back of a truck," Aldon pointed out with a tired smile of his own. "I guess Kit and the kids are asleep?"

"Sam and Millie are," Ollie replied. "Kit's up. I think she'd be glad to see friendly faces."

"I'd be glad to see more myself," Aldon nodded, then looked her way.

Tired as she was, Winry had never actually met Ollie's wife, though Aldon and Cassie had plenty of stories and pictures. "Sure," she agreed.

They went down another couple of hallways, as everyone was dispersed into available sleep spaced carved out of storage rooms. Ollie and Kit's apartment turned out to be two rooms with an open doorway between them; a curtain hung across the space to separate their room from the kids'. It was as bare and meager as Winry could have expected. There was an old mattress on the floor in one corner with sheets and a thick comforter and old pillows. Milk crates in a corner made for shelves and surface space. There was an old lamp for light, clothes folded in the crates, and a pitcher of water and two chipped plastic cups. There were a few other odds and ends, but it was clear the family had fled in a hurry, and lived in relative poverty for quite some time. Still, the place was clean.

If Ollie looked scruffy and lean, his wife looked little better, though Winry suspected it had to do as much with a clearly advancing pregnancy as much as the rough living. She was a pretty woman, but her face looked thinner and more worn than in the pictures, and her thick red hair flatter, pulled back in a simple ponytail. Still, she beamed and hugged Aldon tightly. "It's good to see you Don! How are Cassie and the swarm?"

Aldon chuckled. "Busy as ever. It's good to see you, Kit. You're radiant as ever."

"Blame him," she stepped back and gave her husband a playful nudge in the ribs with one elbow.

"How are you?" Aldon asked more seriously. He looked as concerned as Winry felt.

"Not bad," she replied. "Now don't go looking all worried there, Don. We've got a doctor down here with us, and I know as much about it as anyone."

"I wasn't claiming you didn't," Aldon assured her, her spunkiness apparently reassuring. "I'm just not good with deliveries," he joked. "Warn me, okay?"

"We've got a couple of months till that yet," Ollie replied, looking relieved by that fact. "By then I hope we'll be out of here."

"We should be," Winry commented. "And leaving the Drachmans sorry we were here."

"Good," Kit's smile turned fiercely grim. "I'll never forgive them for what they've done. Sorry," she shook her head. "I'm tired. I swear I'm not normally vindictive."

Ollie gave her a gentle squeeze around the shoulders. "Get some sleep, hon. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Winry and Aldon preceded Ollie out. Then he turned and showed them the next room, which was similarly arrayed, with two beds, a couple of empty stacked boxes to serve as cubbies for stuff, and a blanket hung across one corner to use for privacy.

"How's she really?" Winry asked Ollie as Aldon set their packs on the floor between the beds.

Ollie sighed. "Doc says the baby's fine, but it's really doing a number on her. Rationing's tight, and even though she's getting part of mine, I worry."

"We'll get you all out of here, man," Aldon replied as he turned. "You can come to Resembool and spend some time with us. I know Cassie would love it if you stayed."

"It sounds nice," Ollie admitted. "Once we get out of this, I think we'll take you up on that." From his expression it sounded like a long-faded dream. Winry's heart went out to them; to all of them.

Ollie bid them good night, and as Winry snuggled into bed a little later, the family was very much on her thoughts. "How old are their children now?" she asked.

Aldon, sprawled out in the other bed on his back, glanced in her direction. "Sam's six now I think, and Millie's two."

"Those poor kids." Winry tried to imagine living down here for over a year at that age; no sunshine, no place to play and laugh and run around. It was quiet down here; no one spoke loudly. A two year old… Millie probably didn't remember anything else.

"At least they're all alive," Aldon replied. "And I'm not leaving here until we get them out alive." There was grim determination in his voice; the same determination Winry had heard so often in Edward's when he had his mind absolutely set on something. There was no alternative; there would be no failure. He would see it done.
Winry turned off the little lamp and closed her eyes. Right now, that fierceness in her son was oddly reassuring. "Of course we will."

April 5th, 1964

Morning came far too quickly. Aldon woke with aching arms, legs, back… anything and everything used in last night's climbing expedition done on little sleep. He was startled out of drowsiness when he blinked opened his eyes in the lamp light and found himself looking into a curious little face surrounded by a frizz of blonde curls.

Millie Larson giggled in delight and ran out of the room.

"Adorable little imp," Aldon grumbled, smiling anyway, as he sat up. His mother, he noticed, was already up and dressed, currently brushing out her long blond hair, damp from washing, which fell loose at the moment. "I'm not late for anything am I?"

"No, not at all," Winry assured him as she picked up a hair clip and easily swept her hair up and out of the way in one of the styles she seemed to prefer most. It was oddly amusing that something as familiar as his mother's hair should be reassuring given the situation. "Not unless it's late for standing in the shower line. It will be breakfast time soon."

"How do you know?" He asked as he slipped out of bed and dug through his bag for clean clothes.

"The adorable imp and her brother informed me," Winry chuckled. "They were very happy to tell me anything I could possibly want to know about down here."

Millie scurried back in the open doorway. "See. 'Wake!" She pointed at Aldon.

"I see," Kit commented with a chuckle, peeking in. "I hope she isn't bothering anyone."

"Not a bit," Aldon grinned, grateful he had slept in sweats and a tank top. "She's as lovely and nosy as her mother."

The two-edged compliment had the effect he hoped. Kit wrinkled her nose at him – what she always did instead of sticking out her tongue – but smiled. "And if I weren't so nosy you'd still be courting your lovely wife," she teased with a wink.

Aldon saw the flicker of wondering amusement in his mother's eye, and was almost amazed that he didn't blush. He really didn't particularly want his mother to know any more about certain elements of his life, no matter how far in the past, than she already did. "We can debate that when Cassie's with us to defend her part of the equation," he smiled back.

"To Don's credit, he did do most of the work on his own," Ollie added his own chuckled tease to the mix as he appeared in the doorway.

Little Millie, oblivious to the banter, was staring at Winry's auto-mail kit with interest.

This was good, Aldon thought, given how dirty this conversation was getting with innuendo alone! "You bet I did."

His mother looked like she was going to laugh which, he supposed, was better than her original reaction back when that had been recent events. "As curious as I am now," Winry finally cut in, "I suspect the real reason Ollie is here is because we have to eat breakfast and get to work."

"Unfortunately, you're right Mrs. Elric," Ollie nodded. "You've actually got good timing. We had a successful raid for supplies two days ago, so we've got enough to accommodate everyone. Breakfast is pancakes, oatmeal, sausage, coffee, and milk. Kids get first dibs at the milk though," he added, looking slightly apologetic. "House rule."

"You won't hear us complaining," Aldon replied understandingly. "It all sounds good to me anyway." Though he was sure there wasn't going to be large portions of any one thing.

"There's not much of anything to put on it," Ollie pointed out.

Aldon couldn't help chuckling. "Don't worry about that," he replied. "We're not houseguests or fresh from home either. I've had enough military rations to last me a lifetime. Right now, even instant pancake mix stolen from under Drachman noses sounds like gourmet cooking. In fact, knowing that almost makes it better."

Ollie relaxed and chuckled. "Good thing too… I've been helping cook."

At that, Aldon couldn't resist wrinkling his own nose. "The fact that I'm still willing to eat tells you how hungry I must be."

Kit laughed. "Well let's go get it before it's gone. Half of the dining room is crowded full already."

A shower, however rudimentary, could wait. Right now a meal with his friends was good enough for him.