Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.
AN: Hello! Responses to guest reviews for the last chapter can be found at the end of this post.
Also, a little character/codename reminder: Riza/Loki...Roy/Tyr/Mr. Sexy Voice...Becca/Freya...Havoc/Dagr...Breda/Ymir...Ross/Hel...Fuery/Sig...Elicia/Little One...Olivier/Ice Queen
And now, for the long-awaited Exchange. I hope you like the chapter!
The Mansouran Exchange
The days following Riza's unexpected chat with Barry, and the run-in with Katie, included a nearly eight-hour drive from Paris and the opening of the safe house in Munich, among other things. They had decoded the text that had originally clued them into the exchange and, thus, the remainder of the time had been spent waiting, resting, and preparing. They thoroughly surveilled the Munich Residenz, a former royal palace that had at one tie been the seat of the German government. A benefit would be taking place at the Antiquarium within the Residenz, and Kimblee was using that event as a smoke screen for his own.
And yet, despite everything going on, the interaction at the club with Mustang was never far from her mind. She seemed to smile frequently around him, her heart rate would occasionally spike, and she kept glancing at him like teenager. While before she recognized that he was a good-looking guy, now she kept contemplating his perpetual smirk, angular jaw, and broad shoulders. It was ridiculous, and she felt a little like an idiot.
In fact, Mustang sans shirt in the elevator repeatedly flashed in her mind, and she easily recalled his athletic frame. She smiled at the memory of his fingers gently brushing over her cheek, pushing hair out of her face. It was during their flight to Paris, before the meeting with Maurice, her head laid on a pillow which rested on his lap. He'd thought she was sleeping. If not for the situation in the club, she might have been able to keep all those thoughts in the back of her mind. At least for the duration of the mission.
That kiss in the club was just supposed to be a quick thing, and then his arm was around her, his body was right there, and she was suddenly a little lost. She recovered, of course, but there was a second where she could do no more than watch him, somewhat amazed by how good it was. Then they left, and the heat from his hand flowed through her top, his fingers grazing the skin just above her jeans. In that moment, with every nerve in her body on high alert, it was all she could think about. She tried to tell herself it was nothing but, since just thinking about it caused her to shudder, she remained unconvinced.
In truth, lately she had been trying to decide if she should be concerned about how well they were all getting to know each other. On the one hand, becoming familiar meant they worked together effectively, but on the other such attachments complicated things. Her job and her life, along with those of Becca and Fuery, depended on their ability to maintain multiple covers and aliases. They could not be seen openly spending time with FBI agents as that could jeopardize the lives of everyone involved. Riza and her team had completed many missions, and one unquestionable common denominator was that they disappeared when it was over. If this ended like any other mission, she, Becca, and Fuery would never see Mustang, his niece, or his team again. She already knew she was not thrilled about that prospect.
However, she also had to consider the fact that her team had lost two irreplaceable members, which placed their future in question. For better or worse, this mission had already changed their lives, and would likely continue to do so. She had no idea what would happen after they completed the operation, and that was equal parts liberating and terrifying. This was the only life she knew.
She looked up sharply when Becca appeared in the doorway. "Hey, sexy lady. Do you have the medallion?"
"Yeah," she replied, taking it from a drawer. "And I'm glad you're here." Picking up two shot glasses, she held one out to her friend. "We are in Munich, and we're about to start an important mission...you know what that means."
"Yes! It's time for pre-op tequila." She contemplated the liquor with a nod. "This is a good idea...we did this before our last three Munich jobs and they were awesome."
"And I don't want to ruin the streak."
They clinked glasses, downed the tequila, and Becca moved back to her room with a wave. "I need to finish getting ready...I'll see you downstairs."
The door closed and she watched her reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath and attempting to push everything but the mission aside. Warmth radiated through her thanks to the drink and she shut her eyes momentarily, letting her body relax, clearing her mind. She bent forward to adjust a strap on her shoe and rose, half-turning to check her reflection and make sure the one-shoulder, deep charcoal affair would hide the tattoo. It stopped just above the knee and she lowered a hand to the small slit there, adjusting her thigh holster to keep it invisible. There was a knock and she said, "It's open," thinking her friend had come back for something. She partially turned again, playing with the neckline. "Hey, Bec...can you see the salamander tattoo?"
The door clicked shut and a much deeper voice replied, "Not from where I stand." Mustang appeared behind her in the mirror, and then she inhaled quickly when his fingers grazed her shoulder blade, pulling the fabric aside to check the distance between the edge of the dress and the tattoo. "It should stay covered...you have room to spare."
"Thanks." Ignoring the lingering sensation of his skin on hers she faced him, looking him over as she did. Shit, the man could wear a suit. "Looking sharp, Mustang. You clean up well." She reached up to fix a mostly unnoticeable imperfection in the knot of his tie.
He chuckled. "Thanks." His voice softened a fraction, his gaze moving over her face then down to her dress. "You are stunning." She smiled and he held up a small box, adding, "I brought your comm for the evening. Our computer guys did something special...I'm not sure what. They lost me when they started talking about transducers and filters and time discretization."
"Signals processing isn't your strong suit?"
"I like to think I could understand it if I wanted to." He took them both out of the box, handing one to her and placing the other in his own ear.
She situated hers comfortably just in time to hear Havoc: "Say, Freya, you think you might be ready soon? I'm not sure if you know this, but we're kinda on a timetable here."
Riza shared an amused look with Mustang before leading the way out of the room and down to the kitchen as Becca responded, "You can't rush perfection, asshole."
"All I'm saying is I better see some phenomenal shit when you come downstairs." Havoc gave them a wave as they entered the kitchen together while Elicia watched them, a look on her face that sixteen-year-olds have when they think they know everything.
"Hey, Little One," Rebecca said. "Do me a favor and punch Dagr in the nuts."
Mustang grabbed his pistol from the table, and pointed at his giggling niece with the clip. "Don't do that, kiddo...it's really not nice."
"Okay, Tyr," Elicia began. "Why does everybody get a cool codename but I'm just Little One?"
"Cause that's what you are." Becca passed into the kitchen, silk whispering, and put an arm around the teen's shoulders. "Our Little One. Sorry kid, but you just unofficially acquired a bunch of older siblings. And nobody fucks with our little sister." Letting go, she picked up her own weapon from the table before continuing. "We're like a streak of tigers, protecting the cub, and Assface is like the evil lion nemesis we have to hunt down."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Havoc jumped in. "Tigers are cool, but I'm pretty sure we're more like panthers. Sleek, stealthy, majestic...pretty much awesome."
Breda's laugh came loudly over the comms. "You idiot...you're about as majestic as a toothpick." He and Maria were in position at the Munich Residenz, where they would plant a booster that would give Fuery uninhibited access to, and full control of, the location's systems.
"Thanks, dick. I mean, Ymir." Havoc took a few steps toward Becca. "That is some phenomenal shit, Freya. You too, Loki."
"I know," the brunette responded with a grin, playing absentmindedly with the skirt of her dress. "Are we ready to go or what?"
Riza glanced at Mustang and nodded. "Let's move out." She saw him hug his niece, giving her a kiss on the top of her head, before saying a few quiet words to remind her to not distract Fuery. Then, they walked to the garage and she accepted the hand he held out to help her into the car, her muscles tensing minutely at the contact. Once seated she said, "Ymir, Hel...you're on."
"Copy that...But could someone remind me why I have to do this?" Breda sounded the tiniest bit anxious as he and Maria made their way through the building.
Havoc's laugh sounded a bit more like a cackle. "A little nervous, Ymir?"
"Well, Dagr, a.k.a. Jackass, you might remember that I'm usually the one behind the computer, not out in the field. And I'm still a little new at the sneaky spy stuff."
"You'll be fine, Ymir," Mustang replied, taking a longer route to give Havoc and Becca a suitable head-start. "Don't forget to play the cameras, guys."
"Yeah, and you're a nerd," Havoc added from the other car. "So we send you to do nerd things."
"Do the letters FO mean anything to you?" Breda asked and, since his voice had quieted, she assumed they were inside a more secure portion of the facility.
"Ahh...the immortal words of Burt Reynolds," Jean responded reverently. "That guy had one hell of a mustache, and he has the distinction of being one of my personal heroes."
"A dubious honor," Breda quipped. "And Tom Selleck's mustache was better. It was a classy mustache. A clastache, if you will."
"I will not," Havoc retorted. "...and for the love of mike stop naming things...you suck at it."
"Here's a funny story, no one answered my freaking question."
Riza chuckled. "You know why. We would plant it ourselves, but we want to avoid any risk of suspicion as long as possible at the exchange."
"Thanks, Loki, I feel so much better knowing that it's okay if the crazy guy finds me."
"I thought you might."
Mustang looked over at her, taking the tickets she handed him. "What about it, Hel? We haven't heard much from you."
"Well, other than the fact my codename makes me sound like the devil's spawn, I'm great," Ross drily told them. She had become much more friendly with Riza's crew of late, though it was clear she still harbored some cautious reservations.
"I think it makes you sound like a badass," Becca chimed in. "Like you're gonna rain hell down on people...get it?"
"We're in," Breda told them. "Placing the booster now."
"See? That wasn't so bad, Ymir," Havoc teased.
"You can't see how nervously sweaty he is. Seriously, it's gross," Ross commented. "We're good. Exfil to base."
"Copy," Fuery interjected. "I'm in...I have the cameras and the security guards' comm frequencies. Target is not on site."
"That's normal," Riza reminded everyone, trying to avoid discouragement. "If he shows, he won't be early."
"Okay," Becca's gleeful voice came through the earpiece. "We are in like gin...got the secret VIP package. It's just a small card, made of unexceptional card stock, and it says 'B42, 2300.' That's it."
"Copy," she said. "We'll be there in five...and don't forget we're ditching the cars tonight."
"Yes, ma'am."
Not a minute later they parked, and Mustang chivalrously assisted her in alighting from the vehicle. They strolled down the sidewalk and then slipped into a side door using a borrowed pass, following the hallway toward the main lobby. When they reached the door to the Antiquarium, he pulled the tickets from his jacket and displayed them to a guard. They entered, scanning the room. "We're in, Freya."
"Copy, still no sign of target."
Riza grabbed a pair of champagne flutes and handed him one, unintentionally brushing his hand in the process. Taking a sip, she lightly held onto the crook of his arm with the other hand. "Two potentials at the bar...ten o'clock."
He met her eye momentarily and nodded. "I saw them."
"I have eyes on them," Fuery said. "They're good with the cameras though...can't get a clear line of sight."
"We're on it," Mustang replied.
"Freya, meet me for a brush," Riza added as they moved indirectly toward the bar, downing her drink and setting it on the nearest server's tray.
"Will do, Miss Thang."
She chuckled. "Freya, you are great at many things, but I don't think you can pull that off."
"Yeah, it felt really weird."
"Try being on the receiving end."
In the middle of the floor she passed close to Becca, taking the card and medallion and dropping them both discretely into her clutch. They kept walking and Mustang snapped photos of the men with his phone once they were within range, sending them to Fuery.
"Wow, not bad, Tyr. Great angles on their faces," the computer expert congratulated. "And the photo comparison says...Javier Celantos and Miche Barikov...known associates of Kimblee's. They are wanted all over the place in connection with a variety of crimes. It looks like they do it all...anything from security to hits."
"Thanks, Sig." Mustang shared a look with her, and she knew they were both hoping there were no hits ordered that night. With an amused smile, he leaned toward her and said, voice low, "I know this is my first evil-doers' convention...but this seems pretty tame."
She laughed, a small grin lighting her face. "What did you expect? That everyone would be running around with ropes and blowtorches?"
He shrugged. "The blowtorches must come out just before the exchange."
The few hours before the meeting were uneventful, with both two-man teams continuing to observe the room at large. To anyone else they might appear to be wandering, but they kept tabs on any suspicious individuals, and searched for any guests that they deemed likely to attend the exchange. Throughout the evening Kimblee's men showed no signs of untoward behavior, simply taking advantage of the open bar and occasionally socializing. Not once did the arms dealer himself join the party, and there were no other unexpected occurrences, which in itself was a surprise. The seeming normalcy of the evening worried her, and as the minutes wound down to 2300 hours she kept watching, as if expecting something to happen.
Then, just as she was about to head downstairs, Fuery said, "A new signal just popped up and then vanished. Identifying and locating..."
Still, she finished her current glass of champagne and set it aside, meeting Mustang's eye. He gave her a quizzical look, clearly wondering if she should go given the mystery signal, and then nodded a moment later. She left in the direction of the restrooms and, with a quick scan around the hallway, she passed them, taking the stairs to the floor below and using wall-plaques to guide her to room B42. As she walked, she again had the feeling that something was not quite right; the night had been too quiet. For a sale this important Kimblee should have had more men on site, and she would have even expected him to oversee it in person. "Sig?" Riza muttered, hoping for information since once she entered the room she would have to avoid speaking in order to conserve her cover.
"Sig, could they have been testing a video signal?" Mustang asked. "The buyers might want to get a look at the merchandise."
A moment of silence and then, "No, it wasn't strong enough to stream that, it's more like they tested an emitter and a receiver, or sent a message. It could be how they're communicating with the target." He paused again. "But the signal was centered in room B42."
She paused in the middle of the hall, her gut urging her to abort, but after a moment's consideration she continued. There was no choice, they had to know the identity of the buyer, and could ideally use the ensuing transaction to locate and apprehend Kimblee. Showing the card to the guard at the door, she entered the room and took a seat in the back, taking a look at the individuals already there. "I'm in." She saw the same attendees they had taken note of earlier, in addition to a few more faces that had chosen to infiltrate as members of the staff instead.
Glancing at the time, she noticed that exactly seven minutes still remained until 2300 hours, and the curiosity of the other guests was beginning to grow. Some were communicating over the phone with their associates, discussing money and transportation, while others sat silently watching the guards that stood steadfastly at the front of the room. The burly men were positioned on either side of a table that held only a speaker, and she inferred that the hired muscle would likely be communicating the details of the auction to their boss.
"Sig, what were the target's most recent movements?" The tension in Mustang's voice was only moderately elevated, but she knew he was likely more worried than he let on.
"Target is definitely in Munich...arrived two days ago, but that's all I have. He's tough to track," Fuery informed them. Essentially, despite their best efforts, Kimblee could be anywhere, and they could only wait to see if the exchange would actually occur.
"Could that signal be used to send something simple? Like a code?"
The line was silente while Fuery checked something. "Yes."
The appointed hour approached and she watched the crowd for anything out of the ordinary, brow furrowing when the guards stepped outside. At that point, she refused to wait any longer and stood, exiting through another door into a different hall. "Guards are on the move." Treading lightly, she followed the wall and leaned around the corner, just catching sight of the guards as they disappeared at the end of the hallway.
In the same instant, Mustang said, "Abort...everybody get the hell out. Sig, trip every alarm you can."
She heard a chorus of 'Copy' and Riza broke into a sprint, passing the door to room B42 as the alarms rang and the other possible buyers hurried out. She raced through corridors toward the stairs, keeping her eyes peeled and one hand near her pistol. Then, all the light's died simultaneously and there was piercing static through her earpiece followed by silence. An electromagnetic pulse. Shit. The fact that she was still alive meant the device was non-nuclear, and that she had very little time left.
Just when she neared the door to the stairwell it swung open and Mustang burst out, sliding to a stop when he saw her. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she did not even have a chance to ask why the hell he wasn't outside already before he grabbed her hand, pulling her after him. They climbed back up to the main floor and ran down one hallway after another, diving into the next open room they saw.
He somehow managed to kick the door closed just before landing on top of her. They were in the process of rolling away from the entrance when there was an ominous, painfully loud explosion. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling his arms encircle her as the shockwave coursed through the room. They brought their heads together and she placed a hand behind his neck as the floor trembled and the building shook. Riza kept hoping that the others had made it out safely.
She shut her eyes, burying her face in his shoulder, and could hear the crackle of the walls fracturing around them, the crash of furniture. Then, for a few seconds she could only hear the high-pitched whine that accompanied stunned eardrums while they still held each other, waiting for the ceiling to collapse. When nothing else happened she opened her eyes and took a breath, coughing from all the dust in the air, his body shaking with his own coughs
Taking in the room, she noticed they were under a table, and surrounding them were a series of fallen shelving units. It looked like a failed game of jenga. Coughing again, she let her head rest on the floor and caught Mustang's eye, his face mere inches from her own. Moving a hand upward, she wiped some blood from his forehead, taking a second to check his hairline for a wound. It was only a small scratch, and in that moment she fully recognized their position: he was straddling her right leg, and her left was partially wrapped around one of his. She found herself focusing on how dark his eyes were, how his hair fell across his forehead, and how, despite being covered in dust, he still managed to be ludicrously handsome. He smelled faintly of sage and birch, coupled with a hint of smoke from the explosion.
He removed the useless earpieces and, when his thumb swiped over some dirt on her cheek, her skin flushed. Softly, with a smirk on his lips, he said, "Please don't knee me in the groin this time."
Riza smiled, laughing quietly, and hoped he was not aware of the thud in her chest. "No need...you're not trying to arrest me." Her grin started to slip away as she held his gaze, and the look he gave her sent a thrill through her chest. She was conscious of the feel of his hips, his waist beneath her arm, the pressure of his chest atop hers. His arm tightened around her, and then untimely shouts coupled with the sounds of gunfire reminded them where they were. Their heads turned sharply toward the door when more shots came from a distance and she met his gaze once more, exhaling slowly. Almost in a whisper, she said, "We should go."
He cleared his throat with a nod and slowly rose to his feet, holding out a hand to help her up. "They're performing a sweep...making sure all the intended targets were neutralized." His voice was a touch husky, and he cleared his throat once more.
"I agree." She drew the weapon holstered at her thigh and double checked that there was a round in the chamber. "We're on the eastern end of the building." Riza placed an ear to the door. "They're coming from the west...we don't have much time."
"There's an exit one hall north and twenty-five yards further east." He pulled a firearm from his shoulder holster, checking the chamber and the clip as well out of habit.
"But that opens on the promenade. We'll be sitting ducks."
He looked at her with a small grin. "Feeling academic?"
She smiled, taking his meaning. "I believe I am...I'm out first, then I'll cover your six."
Mustang gave a little shrug accompanied by a nod as he moved toward the door. "Sounds good." With one hand poised on the door handle, he met her eyes and said, "Ready?"
Riza nodded and as he swung the door inward she raised her firearm and moved through the doorway, firing when an enemy stepped around the corner from another hallway. He fell with a bullet in the forehead. Shooting a quick look behind her to gauge Mustang's position, she paced backward behind him as he cleared the way. She held the weapon out before her as she moved, sweeping her gaze over the expanse of the walkway. She squeezed the trigger when another of Kimblee's goons appeared from one hallway, and again when a man carrying an automatic weapon stepped into view. As she continued to walk she exhaled tensely because each time she fired, it drew attention to them.
Suddenly, around ten armed men appeared at the far end of the hallway, and she was about to open fire but with an arm around her waist Mustang pulled her into another corridor. They kept close to the wall to avoid the barrage of gunshots, and right next to her ear, voice low, he said, "We need to move before we're pinned down...I have an idea."
She nodded and then not a moment later he spun them, pushing her away and grabbing the barrel of one dark-clad enemy's weapon. A shot went off and she tried to use the wall to maintain her balance, turning to fire at the other end of the hall when two men burst into it. They fell and at the grunt of pain behind her she twisted back around to find Mustang had been knocked into the wall, his head contacting it with a dull clunk. The attacker was raising his weapon and she shouted, "Down!"
Mustang dropped and she put a bullet between the man's eyes before squeezing off a few more rounds behind her in an attempt to keep the others at bay. Riza could hear too many heavy footfalls moving in their direction and stooped to help him up. He pointed at the door across the hall and she led them in, pushing a fallen shelf against it, knowing it would buy them little time.
Seeing the line of windows at the other side of the room, she understood what he'd intended and grasped his arm, leading him to the window before opening it. They both slipped out and she closed it as well as she could behind them, hoping they could pull off this small disappearing act that might let them escape. But she could already hear shouts and barked orders from the other side of the door. Once on the promenade she took off her heels and they sprinted to the next building that housed the Academy of Sciences, breaking a window and climbing inside. They hurried through that room and then raced down the adjoining hall, making a series of turns.
After climbing up one floor she saw a sign that denoted a chemistry lab and directed them into it, securing the door. She was hoping that the room would provide them with cover, but would have few enough hiding places that their pursuers would not be enticed to enter. Riza guided them to the far end of the room, grabbing a few items from the first aid kit on the wall along the way, and they took refuge on the floor behind an experiment station.
She threw a look at the door and then turned to Mustang, who slid down along the cupboards and leaned his head back, eyes closed. She moved to his other side and checked the area just above his temple, where his skull had contacted the brick wall. When she raised a hand to his forehead he turned his head away with a muttered, "Don't worry about it, I'm fine."
Riza gave a soft chuckle. "Just let me take a quick look. You hit that wall pretty hard."
She reached toward him again and he grabbed her wrist. "Hey, that night we took Elicia back to the house in Virginia...did you tell your team that the bracelet was Gracia's?"
Her eyes narrowed, shaking her head in confusion. "What?" She brushed his hair away with her fingers and he stiffened subtly at her touch. "I think you may have hit..."
He grabbed her wrist once more and looked at her. "No, seriously, I'm fine. Check my eyes….this isn't a concussion talking. Just answer the question."
Riza watched him, trying to control her concern, and raised the pen light from the first aid kit, verifying that his pupils were equal and reactive. "I didn't tell them, I had no reason to. I don't think they knew about it until you destroyed it." Moving closer to get a better viewing angle, she took another look at his forehead and added, "There's a small bump and a shallow lack...it's already clotted."
He smirked. "See...it's fine. I'm told I'm very hard-headed."
She laughed softly, and then her tone turned serious. "Why are you asking me about that night?"
"Because our electronics were just killed by an EMP and I can be sure no one else is listening." He took a deep breath. "Remember the tracker in the bracelet? Before I threw it in the water I memorized the model and serial numbers, and I had a guy that used to work for my aunt take a look. The signal was obviously weak, and there was a ton of interference, but this guy can work miracles and he was able to isolate it. He could only access the limited data stored on the device, but it was enough." He paused as she wiped some blood from his forehead in the hopes of staving off unwanted attention on the return to the safe house. "Hawkeye, that tracker didn't go live until Elicia was at the house...with us."
Her eyes widened. "You have to be fucking kidding me."
He shook his head. "We have a mole."
She sat back, considering the possibility. "That would explain how he's managed to keep a step ahead...Raven's assassination, the Hughes family, the safe house, this explosion. And when he didn't go to his house in New Orleans we attributed it to Hughes' interference, but he could have been warned."
Mustang nodded. "In Virginia, I'm thinking they tipped off Kimblee, and installed the tracker in the bracelet to cover. Grumman, Breda, Ross, and Havoc were in the kitchen when I took it to wash off Gracia's blood, and they asked me about it. It was left unattended for a couple minutes at most, when I went to talk to you, and that was the only time it was off Elicia's wrist."
"This was all within a half-hour of our arrival, and my team definitely would not have known in time. Grandfather's out for obvious reasons..." She took a nervous breath, watching him.
"I know...I had opportunity. Technically I could be the mole." He exhaled. "I never would have sacrificed the Hughes family, not under any circumstances." His voice softened. "And I would never work for the man that killed my parents."
"I know." They both stilled simultaneously at the sound of movement out in the corridor. Dropping the gauze and repossessing her pistol, Riza shifted into a crouch, positioning herself to be able to fire on the door, and heard Mustang do the same behind her. Booted footfalls came ever closer, and she could hear muffled communications over their radios. They were traversing the hallway quickly, not bothering to check every room or door. Clearly, the search was more perfunctory than anything, and they did not expect their targets to have stayed in the building. When all evidence of the pursuers faded, she slid back downward to sit on the floor, breathing a sigh of relief. "We should get out soon, in case they come back."
"We should," he agreed, and they stayed seated for a few additional minutes to ensure they were alone. He stood, pulling her to her feet, and they moved through the halls of the Academy silently and cautiously, keeping their eyes and ears vigilant. She led them to a staircase further away from the site of the bomb blast where they returned to the first floor and exited the building through a side door.
Sirens still wailed, and there was a bustle of activity near the building they'd been in for the party. Dust hung in the air and, not surprisingly, curious residents had started to gather around the site. She saw no sign of Becca or Havoc, and concern still swirled within her as she hoped they'd escaped. No matter what, they had to move, and walked as quickly as they dared in order to put as much distance between themselves and the Residenz as possible. When they were finally a few streets away, she stowed her weapon in its holster and paused to slip her shoes back on, gripping Mustang's arm for balance.
They walked for a few more blocks and she entered the first payphone she saw, dialing a number at random. Before the first ring finished she typed in an eight-digit code and, upon seeing his curious expression, she told him, "It flags the call for Sig, that way he can isolate and encrypt it without me actually having to call his number."
The ringing stopped and she heard Fuery's voice on the other end. "Thank you for calling Paradise Found...the environmentally conscious office furniture suppliers. How may I direct your call?"
Riza smiled in amusement. "Office furniture, Sig? I think my favorite was when you claimed to be the original Ben of Ben & Jerry's."
The younger man chuckled. "Just trying to mix it up. Anyway, how about a food run? I'm hungry and there's nothing to eat."
"I'm sure there's actually plenty to eat, but there is a little Thai place not far from me." Mustang gave her another questioning look, and she held up a hand as if to say, Just wait.
Fuery exhaled. "I am glad to hear from you. We got separated at the party, and some people have been freaking out." He lowered his voice. "Is Tyr with you?"
She met his eye for a second when she started to respond. "Yeah, Tyr's fine. We're on our way."
"He's fine, now back off," he told someone else at the house, and based on his mildly annoyed tone, she knew Ross must have been worriedly bothering him. Addressing her once more Fuery said, "Okay, I actually found some instant ramen here, so I'm good...Freya and Dagr are bringing the syrup, so just get home safe."
She smiled again, replied with a quiet "Will do," and hung up, turning from the phone to find Mustang leaning against the telephone booth's wall chuckling.
"That has to be one of the weirdest conversations I've ever heard."
"Really? You listen to Havoc and Breda all the time, but that's the craziest conversation you've ever heard?" They both tossed their non-functional cell phones down the sewer and followed the sidewalk in search of a taxi.
"Good point."
"First he asked if I was okay or under duress. Then he told me the house is secure and that our friends will arrive clean." She hugged herself while she spoke, the night's chill abruptly noticeable since the adrenaline was leaving her system. He slipped off his jacket in response, settling it on her shoulders, and she was not at all disappointed when his fingers skimmed her. She grinned to herself and found his gaze. "Thanks." He nodded with a smile, they walked on, and she could not stop thinking about what almost happened after the explosion.
She knew that it was best to avoid any entanglements, knew it could complicate things beyond belief, and what made that knowledge even more unpleasant was the fact that her attraction to him was more than physical. He was so much more than the promotion-obsessed FBI agent that he first appeared to be. Though he often tried to hide it with a hard exterior that was not entirely false, Roy Mustang was caring, and kind. She was also aware that, while it was a habit of hers not to get too close, she had stopped trying to keep him at a distance.
Once they finally reached a busier street, Mustang hailed a cab and they climbed in, giving the driver an address a few blocks from the safe house. They were silent for the ride, and when the vehicle stopped she was relieved to find some cash still in his jacket pocket. Once on the sidewalk, they waited for the cabbie to drive away before moving in any direction. Their pace was leisurely, the neighborhood quiet, and her right arm repeatedly brushed against his left.
Nearing the safe house, they strode along one edge of the property and he he held open the gate for her. She gave him a smile of gratitude and, as they walked by the driveway toward the side door he started to move ahead of her, reaching for the key in his pants pocket. She played with the end of one of the jacket sleeves, looking from him, to the door, and back again. With a light exhale, she gently grasped his arm so he'd turn back. His eyes were inquisitive when they found hers, and the corners of his lips were curved upward curiously.
Not giving him a chance to say anything, she stepped forward and kissed him, pulling him against her by his shirt. He ran his fingers along her neck and slipped an arm beneath the jacket, wrapping it around her and trailing a hand down her side to tease along the fabric covering her thigh. Her hands dug into his back and he kissed her a touch more slowly, drawing it out. She yanked at his shirt and heard him inhale sharply when her fingertips glided over his skin. He kissed along the neckline of her dress and then with a hand in his hair she tilted his head back up to reclaim his mouth.
When he paused to look at her they were both panting softly, watching each other with little smiles. They were still catching their breath, in a kind of limbo, and then a sliding door at the rear of the house opened and Fuery was saying, "...should be here soon."
"Well, they'd better hurry," Becca responded. "We're having my famous lentil soup for dinner."
They quickly rearranged their clothing, Mustang tucking in the part of his shirt she'd pulled free. "Just so we're clear, lentil soup was never famous."
Riza laughed quietly, fixing her dress and rapidly letting her hair down to avoid comments on its tousled appearance. "That's what we keep trying to tell her." She looked toward the patio where voices could still be heard and shared another look with him. "Well?"
He shrugged. "Ready as I'll ever be." He reached out to needlessly adjust the shoulder of her dress and she liked that he was coming up with reasons to touch her.
They started to slowly walk toward the patio and when they rounded the corner of the house, Fuery was the only one still outside. He rushed over to give her a hug. "You guys are okay! We were getting worried that you weren't here yet."
"We're fine, Kain." At the appearance of the others, she smiled in relief, pulling Becca into a hug. "I'm so glad you made it out safely."
"Same to you." Becca grabbed a glass of wine from the table and handed it to her,. "I'd say we've earned it."
She took a sip and Elicia came hurrying out of the living room, practically tackling Mustang. "Uncle Roy...before Riza called I was afraid you died." She released him from the hug, giggling when she saw his dust covered hair. "You look old...but totally distinguished."
"Thanks, kiddo."
Ross appeared at the door, her face concerned as she quickly looked him over for injuries. "You okay, boss?"
"Yeah, we're fine. Did we get anything?"
"We saw no sign of the target in the vicinity of the Residenz, and the signal that detonated the explosive was untraceable." She took a glass of wine from Havoc and added, "But Breda and Fuery worked some magic."
"We did, Boss," Breda confirmed as everyone took a seat at the table on the patio. "It was some real genius stuff, and we think we found where he's staying in Munich."
"Nice work, guys. Now we just have to figure out why Kimblee tried to kill all his buyers." Riza poured another glass, passing it to Mustang, who said, "Thanks, Hawkeye." She nodded, both as a 'you're welcome' and an approval of his story that they assumed the arms dealer had targeted the buyers. It was certainly plausible, and should keep the mole from suspecting that his or her presence had been discovered.
His niece's eyes narrowed, and she smirked from her seat between them. "How come you always call Riza by her last name?"
He chuckled as he raised the glass. "We weren't exactly on a first-name basis when we met, Lici. Maybe once you get a high-enough clearance I'll tell you the story."
Her laugh was half-snort. "Uncle Roy."
"Okay, let's dig in. I'm starving," Becca interjected, doling out bowlfuls of soup.
Riza accepted her dinner with a smile and took another sip of wine, briefly scanning the table, hardly able to believe that Havoc, Breda, or Ross were working for Kimblee. In fact, it was possible that they were working together, though that was unlikely and would have been noticed sooner. The thought crossed her mind that this was another problem with becoming too familiar, it made it remarkably easy to trust. At times, a healthy level of suspicion could keep one alive.
AN: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and have a great day! :)
Responses to guest reviews:
hermit crab: I'm so glad you liked it! Roy finally got to sleep lol :)