Chapter 4: Taking Down the Blue Squad

The train steamed down the iron rails leading away from East City towards Central with a steady click-clack-click-clack of its wheels and a few sporadic jolts to its carriages and cargo, where the tracks became abruptly uneven before quickly smoothing out again. Life inside the train was fairly subdued. Most of the passengers contented themselves with quite conversation or picking their way through a piece of literature that they had brought along for the ride.

Edward Elric yawned and stretched out further on the uncomfortable bench seat that he was sprawled out upon, before looking over at his brother, Al. The younger blond boy was curled up fast asleep on the bench seat opposite Ed with his blue coat folded under his head as a pillow.

Ed sighed, lacking the heart to wake his brother, so that he might catch some much needed shuteye, while his brother traded off to the task of monitoring the train's activities.

"The colonel better not have been wrong about this," he muttered to himself, while turning to glare out the window at the passing countryside. So far, he and Al had seen nothing suspicious. Though, what they were supposed to be looking out for hadn't exactly been clear. All that Mustang had given them to go on was that this train was the one that General Halcrow and the general's family would be traveling on, upon their return to Central from their vacation in the East, and that there was a high probability of the train being targeted sometime before it fully left the East District. Targeted how and by whom, Mustang hadn't said. "Not even under his command yet and the bastard is already giving us vague orders."

"You know he has his reasons."

Ed looked back to his brother, finding Al awake and staring up at him. Out of the two of them, Al trusted Mustang the most, despite having less actual contact with the colonel.

"I know, Al, but it would have been nice if he had at least told us a bit more about who we should be watching for," Ed said, peeved. He didn't actually mind the assignment, and he understood that it was crucial to their futures as State Alchemists. Mustang had said as much. However, the monotony of the train ride was wearing on him. Going on two days of hard bench seats and the never ending rattle of the train's wheels against the tracks had slowly grated on his nerves and obliterated his patience. He just wanted whatever was going to happen to just happen already, so he could stop worrying about it.

"We'll know them when they make their move," Al said confidently and pushed himself upright in his seat.

"I suppose," Ed said grudgingly.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Al suggested, his knowing gold gaze sweeping over Ed's slumped stature and taking in the droopiness of his brother's eyes. "I'll wake you, if something happens."

Ed nodded and slouched down further in his seat. They'd be entering Central Prefecture in a few hours. If he was lucky, he'd get in a cat nap, before all hell broke loose. Then again, he'd prefer for all hell to break loose now, deal with it, and then sleep the rest of the way to Central. But, life rarely did give a person what they wanted.

–

Colonel Roy Mustang glared at the silent phone resting innocuously at the corner of his desk and drummed his fingers impatiently against the smooth, wood surface before him, exercising restrain the best he could, as he endured the pointed stare of 1st Lieutenant Hawkeye and the curious, somewhat concerned gaze of 2nd Lieutenant Havoc. While the morning had started off normal enough – Hawkeye distributing a round of coffee and Havoc placing an unlit cigarette in the corner of his mouth, before the blond man started in on his share of the paperwork that had accumulated in the office overnight – the two had soon noticed their CO's lack of focus. Hawkeye, of course, had repeatedly threatened him with her pistol to get to work, but he just hadn't been able to bring himself to read over the long winded reports that she and Havoc continued to stack upon his desk, when he knew that at any moment General Halcrow's train was going to be attacked and the Elric brothers would take action in response to said attack, as he instructed them to do.

It was a worrisome situation.

"Sir," Hawkeye began, only to falter as Mustang's glare switched from its fixed position on the phone to meeting her pointed stare head on. Straightening her shoulders under his ire, she resolved herself and pressed onward, "Sir, is there something going on that we should know about, or perhaps something that you require assistance with?"

"Everything is in order," Mustang said, forcing himself to appear relaxed.

The phone call would come in soon. He was sure of it. According to the train schedule, there was only an hour left before the LE 04840 would be crossing over into Central Prefecture. If the Easter Liberation Front was going to retaliate for the capture of one of their generals, Halcrow's current vulnerability was too great of an opportunity to pass up. The ELF would need to act soon and shut down the train to further passenger exchange before leaving the Eastern District, as well as begin the negotiations for their agent's release.

"Chief, with all due respect –"

Whatever Havoc was about to say was cut off by the shrill ringing of the phone. Practically jumping at the object that had been the focus of his irritation for a good majority of the morning, Mustang snatched up the receiver and pressed it to his ear.

"We've got a call to headquarters from General Halcrow. He says that it is an emergence."

"Patch it through," Mustang ordered urgently. This was it. There was a second of silence, before the general's voice came on the line.

"It's me. Colonel Mustang, are you there? – Speaking for the Eastern Liberation Front, Blue Squad," a gravelly voice interrupted Halcrow. "The name is Bald. We got the train and your general."

"What do you want?" Mustang asked, taking note of the name Bald and the reference of Blue Squad. He would use the information later, when interrogating the outlaws.

"Don't play stupid. We lost contact with one of our allies last Friday, someone who was supposed to deliver a manifesto to you."

"I don't know what you mean," Mustang said in response to the accusation, keeping his voice calm and smooth. Seeing as he had been the one to engineered Mark Petro's capture, he knew very well what Bald meant. However, admitting as much would only make Bald feel more entitled to his current course of action than the man already did.

"Okay fine, I'll give you the short version." Bald huffed angrily into the phone. "You have our leader in prison eight. Bring him to Central Station. We'll have ourselves a trade."

"Very well then, we have a deal," Mustang consented, following the plan that he had established with the boys for this particular eventuality. "But I don't want any fatalities. If one man –"

The line went dead.

"You're sure about this?" Hawkeye asked uncertainly, having picked up on the general essence of the phone conversation between her CO and Bald. "They have the general. They're serious."

Mustang nodded. He knew very well how serious the situation was. He knew better than even she did. Despite having put a protective detail on Halcrow, he had expected something of this sort to happen regardless. All actions have consequences, after all. Now that contact with the rebels had been established and Bald believed that he and his men would get their way, which meant that they would be less incline to hurt Halcrow or any of the passengers for the time being, it would be up to the Elric brothers to take action and save Halcrow, Halcrow's family, his ass (because it would be his ass, if anything happened to Halcrow or Halcrow's family), as well as secure their own futures in the Military. It was a tall order, he knew, but he had confidence in their abilities. They would not let him down.

"Sir, you know the general's police on negotiating with terrorists. He'll hold you –" Hawkeye protested from where both she and Havoc now stood before his desk awaiting orders.

"Easy, Hawkeye," he soothed and let a smirk play across his lips. He'd hardly call the plan that he had in place a negotiation, and he was confident that, while Bald most definitely wouldn't be happy about it, the general would be please with the end results … that is, until Halcrow found out what it was going to cost to be once more indebted to him. "No one's really negotiating with anyone," he informed. "I've already made arrangements."

"Sir?" Hawkeyes said, surprised.

"Please send for Hughes," Mustang requested, looking up at her. "Security, along with an investigations team, will need to be present when the train arrives at Central Station."

"Yes, sir," Hawkeyes said, before snapping a salute and retreating to fulfill the order.

"Get in contact with the Transit Commissioner," Mustang said, turning his gaze on Havoc. "Tell him that we have a hostage situation with LE 04840, but not to worry, as the Military has a course of counteraction already in place and the situation ought to be fully resolved, before the train even reaches Central Station."

"Might I ask what the Military's course of counteraction is, sir?" Havoc ventured.

Mustang simply nodded to the still open doors of his office. There would be time to fill everyone in later. Right now, they had a job to do.

With a salute, Havoc obeyed the dismissal and left to get a hold of the Transit Commissioner.

–

Ed grunted, as he put one foot in front of the other. Train walking was not as easy or as cool as it had sounded down below, after he and Al had taken out the two gunmen, who had suddenly jumped up from their seats and announced that they were taking the train hostage. The force of the wind whipping at his body made it very difficult to take even a single step, let alone jump the gap from one car to the other. He could only hope that Al was having an easier time of things down below.

–

Al smirked internally, as he entered the cabin and saw the two gunmen, who were holding the passengers hostage, look to him in confusion. There was just something to be said about adults facing a child in combat. They hesitated. They underestimated. Most importantly, they never expected a kid to actually attack them with the intention of seeking a fight, when the safer bet for the child would be to cower and submit instead.

And they call us the naïve ones, Al thought, as he watched the gunmen drop their guard the slightest bit just at the sight of him.

"Hey, boy," the burly, dark haired man barked. "What do you think you're doing?"

"P-please, sir," Al said, letting fear quaver his voice. "I-I'm looking for my brother, sir. He w-went to stretch his legs and we got s-separated. Those men back there said I c-could find him, i-if I really felt that I n-n-need t-to. He's m-my only family."

The burly man looked to his accomplice, a light brown haired man wearing a stock hat. A silent conversation seemed to pass between the two, before the burly man sighed and turned back to Al.

"Alright, you can go find your brother," the man narrowed his eyes threateningly, "but no funny business, kid. You understand? You find your brother, and then both of you sit down and keep quiet for the rest of the trip. You go that?"

"Y-yes, sir," Al said, looking grateful. "Thank you, sir."

Too easy, Al silently cheered himself, as he began to approach the unsuspecting gunmen. Brother would be proud.

Upon coming up level with the first of the gunmen, the one wearing the stock hat, Al pretended to trip and fall into the man. In the process, he made sure to knock the man's gun out of the man's hands and send it flying under the nearest seats. For now, he disregarded the startled screams of the passengers and focused on controlling the situation.

"Hey, what do you –"

Al didn't let the man finish. While simultaneously kicking out with his right leg at the fast approaching burly man, who was no doubt coming to pull him off his accomplice, he thumped the stock hat man already under him over the head with his left fist. There were two distinct thwacks of metal meeting flesh and bone, followed by the burly man crashing into the side of the seats a little ways back up the aisle. The closest passengers jumped away in fear, as the force of the man's landing caused the man to yell out in pain and sent the burly man's gun skidding across the floor.

"Oops," Al said innocently, before setting to the task of ensuring that the two gunmen were out of the fight and wouldn't be getting up and causing trouble anytime soon. Looking down at the two unconscious, bound up men a few minutes later, he grinned. "Now, no funny business, you two. You both just sit here and keep quiet for the rest of the trip. You go that?"

–

"Ha! Finally made it!" Ed said in triumph, as he clamored his way atop the steam engine. "Now," he said, while carefully and as quietly as possible making his way over to the right edge. Securing himself so that he didn't fall, he lowered the upper half of his body down over the edge, so that he could peer into the engine room below. He jerked back quickly at seeing two gunmen holding the conductors at gun point.

I'll need a distraction, he thought, as he accounted for the likelihood of him getting into the room below without him or one of the conductors getting shot. Even if he made his own entrance through the roof, bullets were likely to start flying with no regard for the life that they would take. While it was a possibility that the gunmen just might shoot each other and save him the trouble, it was more likely that he or one of the conductors would get shot full of bullets. Either way, though, flying bullets was completely counterproductive to his goals. Mustang didn't want anyone shot – not him, Al, the passengers or train employees, not General Halcrow, the security detail on board, or even the gunmen themselves.

"No fatalities, Ed, and try not to let anyone get shot, if you can manage it," Mustang's voice had instructed sternly through the phone. "Gunshot wounds and fatalities cause too much paperwork. Just try to keep it as clean as possible, all right?"

Things had sounded simpler at the time. Get on a train, wait for the bad guys to show themselves, stop the bad guys' nefarious plot, and arrive at Central with General Halcrow firmly in their debt, owing both them and Mustang a huge favor. With Mustang's sponsorship and Halcrow indebted to them, he and Al would be allowed to take the upcoming State Alchemists Certification Exam, their age disregarded.

Now faced with two gunmen in close-quarters, which he somehow had to penetrate without causing too much of a stir, before he even got the opportunity to set about neutralizing the gunmen, Ed was beginning to think that nothing in life was ever as simple as it sounded or ought to be. All things considered, however, he did have the upper hand, as he did have surprise on his side.

"Right then," Ed murmured with firm resolve and set about shrugging off his crimson coat.

Leaning back over the edge and wasting no time with risking being seen before he wanted to be, Ed flung his loosely wadded up coat towards the nearest gunman. Just as he planned, the coat expanded from its loose tangle and acted as blanket of red flying through the window and attacking the man. A decent enough distraction, he mentally patted himself on the back, as he quickly pulled back over the edge and out of sight.

"What the –" came a shout from below, only to be muffled by fabric.

"Move over, idiot! Someone's out there!" was the other's shout.

With the speed of his training, Ed crossed the roof of the locomotive beneath him and stealthily dropped into the engine room through the opposite window. He smirked satisfactorily at seeing one of the gunmen fighting with his coat, which had twisted about the man's head, and the other gunman standing totally open to attack with his own head stuck out the window that he had just thrown his coat through. The two conductors had seemed to have realized what his ploy meant and were in the process of arming themselves with two shovels that had been resting near the controls. Upon taking notice of his entrance, Ed nodded to the gunman beginning to pull his head back through the window.

Just as the gunman withdrew back into the cabin completely and the other managed to rip Ed's coat away from his face, Ed and the conductors attacked. It was quick work to subdue the two. The gunmen's guards were already shaken by Ed's distraction and before either could even so much as raise their guns, they were out cold.

"Well, that worked better than I expected," Ed said, while pushing himself up and off the man that he'd knocked out, and reclaimed his coat.

"I think we have some rope here somewhere that we can tie them up with," the taller of the two conductors said and began searching for the rope that they kept onboard.

–

"Bald," a well built man with a riffle slung over his shoulder said irritably from where he stood by a phone box with the phone receiver in hand.

A long haired man with an eye patch over his right eye looked to the man, briefly turning his attentions away from the private, first class cabin that held the military general that he and the men were holding captive. His look alone demanded an answer for why the other man was disturbing him.

"The rear cars have stopped responding," the well built man said and glared down at the phone receiver, which had yielded no communications with their partners in the rear cars.

"What's going on?" a man with a bandana tied around his head demanded, looking between their leader and the well built man with confusion.

"That damn Mustang is reneging on our deal, that's what," Bald spat spitefully.

"Did you really think this could work?" General Halcrow asked from where he sat on the bench seat across from his family within his appointed first class cabin.

Bald turned back to the general, his face contorted with rage and annoyance.

"You're a ragtag extremist group with and outdated cause. You can't out gun the State Military. Why don't you just surrender while you still c – Ah!" Halcrow yelled, as a bullet pierced through his left ear, just barely missing his head.

"I'm the one who is giving the orders around here, general. And don't you forget it," Bald said, looking menacing and not at all amuse by the general's advice. Turning to his men, he said, "I want a fresh sweep of every inch of this train. Understand? And check the outsides too, top to bottom!"

–

Al gave the passengers a reassuring smile, as he finished up securing the two gunmen that he had just taken out. Like the ones before them, the two gunmen had bought his tearful tale of looking for his brother hook, line, and sinker. If the two idiots had had any brains at all, they would have realized that this was the last car before the first class cabins, which were empty outside of the Halcrow family.

"Everything is going to be fine," Al said, while looking to the terrified faces before him. "Just remain calm. My older brother should be securing the engine room right about now. By the time we reach Central, the situation will be fully contained. You've nothing to worry about. I promise."

"Thank you, young man," an elderly gentleman said gratefully. "You've save us. You've save all our lives."

"I've got to go," Al said and turned to the far door that led to the first class cabins.

With a firm resolve to see the mission through, Al exited the safety of the passenger car and stepped out onto its outer deck.

The sound of a gunshot cracking through the air followed not long after by what sound like cannon fire and a scream had him frozen in place.

"Brother, you're so excessive." Al rolled his eyes, upon catching sight of a metal panel and a cannon ball hurling past overhead and into the lake below. That was most definitely Ed's handy work. It was just like his brother to face off a gun with a cannon.

–

With a clap of his hands, Ed returned the cannon that he had transmuted from the metals of train to its original form.

"Hey, you, don't mess with that tender!" one the conductors yelled up at him from the engine room. "It's the life of this train!"

"Tender, huh?" Ed said, as he accounted for the coal and water that made up the fuel for the steam engine and an idea began to form in his mind. Standing atop the box of tender and looking down at the passenger car housing the first class cabins, a manacle grin found its way on to his face. This was going to be good.

Quickly picking through array designs to come up with the one that would give him the results that he wanted, Ed bent down to the metal surface beneath his feet and clapped his hands, envisioning the array. Upon pressing his hands to the box of tender, a thin pipe formed into existence, piercing through the door of the first class cabins and extending up to his position atop the tender.

Speaking into the end of the newly formed pipe, he yelled, "Attention gun toting extremists, we have recaptured the engine room and rear cars. Release the hostages and surrender. Fail to do so and we will make you surrender by force."

"Fuck off, I don't know who you are, but as long as we have the hostages, we can't lose," a gravelly voice carried back through the pipe. "Try to interfere and I'll kill these hostages one by one."

Ed scowled at his end of the pipe, before shrugging. "Alright, but just remember that you asked for it. Passengers, negotiations have failed, please take cover."

With another clap of his hands, a second pipe joined the first. This one, however, was much greater in diameter. Turning the valve, the rush of water followed by several startled yelps sounded from the first class cabins. He smirked at seeing a blue flash of alchemy on the opposite end of the passenger car followed by the water rapidly receding and the sounds of his brother doing what he did best.

Al had made it just fine and just in time. He really couldn't have planned it better.

Backing up and giving himself a running jump, Ed leaped from the tender to the top of the first class cabins. Crossing the distance quickly, he jumped through the hatch that he had blown the lid off of earlier with his cannon, when one of the goons had attempted to shoot at him.

Shouldn't have called me so small that I could be mistaken for a mouse, Ed grumbled in his mind, as he dropped onto the sopping floor of the cabin below.

Catching sight of a man with an eye patch and combat automail for a left arm that had an inbuilt gun, Ed immediately clapped his hands and drew the front plating of his own automail arm into a blade.

"You're just a brat!" the man exclaimed in surprise, as if he couldn't believe that he was being bested by a child.

"You're going to pay for that brat comment!" Ed gritted out between clenched teeth, as he launched himself towards the man.

Just as the man brought up his automail arm to get a clean shot at him, Ed rammed the blade from his own automail into it and pushed it away so that the bullets went wide. Twisting his blade, the casing of the man's arm cracked and the mechanism faltered under the strain.

"You're using some pretty cheap goods," Ed snarled, before kicking out at the man with his left leg and knocking the man back towards Al, who expertly delivered the man one final punch.

In the silence that followed, all that could be heard was the churning of the train's wheels, as it continued to speed down the tracks, and the brothers' ragged breathing.

"All right?" Ed asked, after taking a moment to regain his breath.

"Yeah, you?" Al asked in return, while grinning at his brother. They both had a few scrapes and bruise, but nothing that looked too serious.

"Never better," Ed said with a grin of his own, before gesturing to the heap of unconscious gunmen. "We best tie them up and then round up the others."

As Al nodded his agreement, the sound of one of the cabin doors unlatching and sliding open drew the two boys' attention. Twin sets of gold eyes widened, as a man with light blond, slightly graying hair, who was dressed smartly in a three piece suit, stepped out into the hall. There was a grim look on the man's face, as he surveyed them and the damage, as well as the unconscious bodies, scattered about the hall.

"I am General Halcrow," the man said authoritatively.

–

Mustang snatched up the receiver the instant that the phone rang.

"We've got another call to headquarters from General Halcrow. He says you're expecting his call."

"I am," Mustang affirmed, leaning back in his chair and ignoring the mixed looks of curiosity and anxiety that he was receiving from Hughes and his men, who were spread about his office and had been working with him on getting themselves organized before they headed down to Central Station to meet Halcrow's train. "Patch it through."

There was a pause and then the background noise of a moving train sounded through the receiver.

"Mustang," Mustang said into the phone, letting the general know that he was on the line.

"Colonel Mustang, this is General Halcrow," Halcrow's voice cracked with the bad connection that was common with train switchboards. "I'm calling to let you know that the situation on board the LE 04840 has been handled. We have 12 radicals in custody. I also thought you might like to know that your young alchemists are fine. Both are a little banged up, but nothing deeper than a surface wound. I suppose it wasn't exactly luck that they were headed your way on this particular train."

"No, sir," Mustang said in confirmation, while sighing internally in relief at hearing that the brothers were indeed fine – not that he had doubted them, he'd been slightly worried was all. "They weren't going to make the trip to Central until the end of the month, but I asked them to do me a favor and come early. I thought that having a backup plan in place would be more prudent than ultimately risking yours and your family's safety. As you no doubt witnessed for yourself, they are quite competent … not only in combat, but in alchemy as well."

"You want them to take the State Alchemist Certification Exam, don't you?" Halcrow asked, sounding not at all pleased with the prospect.

"I was going to check into the possibility, yes." Mustang smirked. It was time to set the ball in motion for the second part of his plan. Having the brothers save Halcrow and the train – indebting Halcrow to them – was the easy part. "In fact, I was going to approach you about it before you left for vacation, sir, but you seemed more eager to promote me and get me out of your office than to listen to what I actually had to say."

Halcrow growled at the reminder of their last conversation. Mustang didn't blame him. It had been far from pleasant.

"You're a real piece of work, Mustang, you know that?" Halcrow demanded tetchily, clearly picking up on where their conversation was headed. "What exactly is it that you want from me? These boys are just that – they're boys. The Military isn't going to let children join their ranks."

"I believe it best if we discuss this matter in person, sir," Mustang said respectfully, knowing that he had to tread carefully. If he was to succeed in getting what he and the Elrics wanted, he couldn't push Halcrow too far, or the entire operation would blow up in his face. Having this discussion with the general in person would give him the much needed edge of being able to read the general's body language and facial expressions.

"Very well," Halcrow agreed. "Once this train hostage business is settled, I want you to report to me immediately … and bring the boys with you. If I find out you've coerced them into wanting to take the Exam, Mustang, there is going to be hell to pay. They better fully understand what they're asking for or I'll have your head and there will be no way that I'll even consider doing what it is that I suspect you want me to do."

"Understood, sir. I'll be waiting with security and an investigations team to apprehend the Blue Squad, upon your arrival in Central," Mustang informed and looked up to check the clock above his office doors for the time. "I'll see you in a half-hour."

"Until then, Mustang," Halcrow said.

Upon the line going dead, Mustang let out a breath and replaced the receiver in its cradle. Looking to Hughes and his men, who were now watching him warily, he said, "We better get a move on and secure the station. While the train is no longer under threat, they have a dozen extremist in custody awaiting transfer to our holding facilities."