Games without Frontiers
Chapter 22: Strike a Match
Rating: M for Violence
Trigger Warning: Sexual Intimidation/Violence
Soundtrack: The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy
The gunshot cracked through the sky like thunder, and the hair on the back of Roy's neck stood at full attention. Roy and Maes turned in the direction of the sound, but it was Maes who was off like lightning, headed toward the place from which the sound came. Roy followed, pulling a glove from his pocket in preparation for what he might face. Rain or not, he would figure this out.
He skid to halt beside his friend, who was standing, panting, and looking up at a roof. "There," Maes gasped. "It came from there."
Roy looked up. It was a few rooftops from where he'd last seen Riza. Now...there was nothing.
He heard footsteps and spun, holding out his hand, ready to strike. Havoc slid around the corner, with Fuery hot on his heels. He clenched his hand into a fist and concentrated. He started a litany in his head: keep it together, keep it together. You don't know what happened. Keep it together.
"How are we going to get up there?" Havoc said after Maes filled him in.
"The same way they got up there?"
"They?" Roy croaked at Fuery.
Fuery, eyes round and wide, offered, "I don't think the First Lieutenant would shoot at nothing, sir."
"Hey!" Maes called from around the corner. They ran to the site, and saw him climbing a metal ladder on the side of the building. "Come on."
Each one of them scrambled up. When they reached the top, they were faced with nothing more than a rooftop packed with crates, covered with tarps. They each took a section of the roof to search, but found nothing to indicate anyone had even been up there. At first, Roy angrily thought that perhaps Maes had been mistaken and was about to tell him so in no uncertain terms, when his foot kicked something hard and heavy that skated across the gravel for a foot before spinning to a stop.
A gun.
Roy's heart stopped as he closed in on it. He would have known it anywhere. He reached down to pick it up.
"Don't touch it!" Maes shouted, freezing him where he stood.
Riza would have never have left her gun behind.
"How in the hell did they get off the roof so fast," Havoc cursed.
"I don't know..." Roy said, his voice deep with suppressed rage. "But I can tell you she didn't leave this roof of her own free will." He indicated the drag marks and followed them with his eyes. They ended at the far end of the roof.
Maes came close and looked down at the ground, staring at the gun.
Roy's gaze grabbed at Maes. It was as close to pleading as he would come aside from his usual dissembling. A thousand unspoken words flew between them, the first and foremost a plaintive request from somewhere near Roy's boots.
Maes looked at the others on the roof, and looked back at Roy. "I..."
"Please, Maes."
Reluctance skittered through the green eyes for a microsecond, but then closed them, as if in thought. Or prayer.
When Maes opened them, the first thing he did was look at Havoc and Fuery. "What you see here stays here, got it?" He barked, freezing the two officers where he stood. He waited until he received an affirmative response then turned back to the gun on the ground.
Roy watched, riveted, as Maes reached in a pocket. "This is not going to be easy, Roy. I don't have much to work with." Pulling out a small scrap of chalk, he began to draw on the ground. Roy followed the simple pattern with his eyes, noticing Maes' economy of motion. The man didn't waste time with embellishments or subtlety; his was a simple and straight-forward alchemy. Comprehending, deconstructing and reconstructing. But the matter he exchanged was very finite. There was no guarantee that he had enough to do what he needed to do.
"Roy..." Maes began.
"I know...Just...please," Roy said, just shy of begging.
"Give me the gun. Carefully. Keep your gloves on."
Roy handed it over, hanging from his finger in the trigger hole with shaking hands.
Maes look a long breath, and exhaled. He looked down at the transmutation circle and gingerly placed the gun in the center. Then, before anyone could blink, he laid his hands palm down on the edge of the drawing.
Blue-green light sparked down Maes' hands and into the array. There it lingered for a heartbeat before crawling slowly over the gun, leaving golden trails here and there across the metal. Maes looked up at Roy, relief in his gaze. "Sweat."
Roy jaw muscle twitch. "Her condition. Makes her palms sweat."
Maes nodded, smiling grimly. "Good thing."
Roy watched the glowing light, trailing off into a pattern, like sand poured in two lines. Maes had an unbelievable knowledge of the human body, and knew that each one was different from the other. While the general chemical makeup was the same, there were delicate differences, something in the codex that was the human being that made each one individual. Riza's sweat was uniquely hers; he calculated the composition, broke it down, and then used what was on the gun to seek for more of it. Like finding like. Roy followed the faint trail it as it meandered, narrow in places, and in places wide and circular, like a hurricane pattern.
"She was fighting as she was taken," Maes concluded.
Of course she was. Roy cursed.
The light continued across the roof, the trail going smaller and smaller, toward one the stacks of crates on the roof. Now the trail was almost negligible, but it scattered small, golden dots around the edge of the tarp.
Roy ran toward it, skidding to a stop and looking down. He snatched the tarp from the crates, considered the stack for a moment and noted that, of the boxes there, one was stacked neater than the rest, and it was stacked alone. He waved Maes over; Havoc followed the Lieutenant Colonel, his rifle at the ready.
Pushing the other boxes aside, Maes and Roy looked carefully around the ground around the last box. Maes hesitated for a heartbeat, then drew his circle on the box, touched it lightly. It lit up like a Solstice torch. Some of the glow was golden, some was a feverish red, the sign of another person in contact with the surface.
Roy didn't hesitate. He dragged the box to the right and saw the trap door beneath it. In the back of his mind, he could picture Riza, examining one of the other stacks and not hearing the noise over the patter of the rain. Perhaps she had examined the stack; perhaps she hadn't reached it yet. Either way, the manner in which her assailant moved on her clued him in to the insidious nature of the predator.
One of the only skills Roy admired about the Crimson Lotus Alchemist was his ability to move stealthily. The way he could move up on a victim, whether inanimate or not, was flawless. Most never saw him coming and when they did they were too late. A trembling started from the soles of Roy's feet, and traveled through his body as he reached forward, looking for the way to open the trap door. If he touched Riza…
If he had, she wouldn't be alive, and we would know it.
He found the hidden catch and carefully swung the door open. The residuals from Maes' alchemy picked up the trail again, continuing, straight and sure, through the hole and stopped about halfway down a metal ladder, trickling into a small smattering of red and gold spots. Without a second thought, he climbed in the hole and down. He didn't even care if the others followed.
Dropping the last foot to the floor, he peered into the darkness, hoping beyond hope he'd reach the end of the trail. All that met him was darkness, unrelieved and not alive. He could sense the walls on either side of him, and knew he was in a narrow corridor. He heard the others dropping down behind him, then heard the flick of Havoc's lighter.
"Stay back, sir." A small circle illuminated the Second Lieutenant's face as he moved in front of his commanding officer, followed by Maes.
Roy could barely see a half-foot in front of him, but he heard the scratching of what could only be Maes drawing his circle again. He watched the flicker of Havoc's lighter dip toward the ground, where Maes probably crouched and saw the blue-green flash when his friend activated the circle. Interestingly, he only saw a red trail, but it shone bright and true, in a thick band down the corridor. He wanted to cast a flame to see by, but knew better than to show his hand so soon.
A few more yards and again the blue-green light, sparking and sorting itself into the trail that Maes had gathered from the chemicals.
"Nothing here, sir," Jean said, holding the lighter in front of him so he could see.
"Sir?" It was Fuery. Roy turned toward him, and looked at what the Master Sergeant was holding in his hand. When Roy saw it, fear clotted with rage in the throat and he took the thing, turned it in his hands.
"That her hair clip?" Maes asked. "Even better. Give it to me."
Roy took the clip from Feury's hand then froze. He'd sent her up there. And this had happened. It took three tries from Maes before he even acknowledged the other's voice.
"Colonel!" Maes stood in front of him, called directly into his face. "You've got to pull it together. I can find her. I promise you, with that I can find her. Give me the clip."
Roy blinked, then glared. "Then do it. Now."
Maes took the clip and examined it quickly and carefully. He saw what he wanted and carefully pulled strands of hair from the fastener of the clip. It was a treasure trove of the chemical makeup of Riza Hawkeye. This time the trail picked up, a strange, fine line moving around the red trail. It was confirmed; he had her. The trail led quite a distance away, before fading into what looked like tiny grains.
Roy didn't recall how many times Maes had to Seek, but he knew he would owe his friend so much for this. Maes had held the secret of his alchemy close to his chest for many years, using it only when there was no other choice. It was but one weapon in the fortified arsenal used to get Roy to the top and he prized it above many others.
His enemy was taunting him, Roy knew. The explosion had been a diversion, meant to lead them into a trap. But, Kimblee knew that they had heard the shot, and knew that Roy's team would double back and follow. He even probably hoped they would follow. The bastard enjoyed thinking on his feet, improvising as he moved along. He was damned good at it, too. Kimblee was drawing out his game, teasing, taunting. He thought he had them in his control and that he could play this game out however he wanted.
But there was a flaw in Kimblee's plan.
Kimblee thought he had all the time in the world.
"There she is," Maes said softly, and the four men watched the trail move like quicksilver across the floor and through a door on the other side of the room.
]o[
Riza came awake all at once, gasping for air. The hood was gone from her head, but the darkness snatched any evidence of her location before she had a chance to orient herself. The first thing she did was still and concentrate on her body, trying to feel for any injuries. Any pains. Anything that would have confirmed the worst of her fears. The only thing that screamed at her were her shoulders, the right dislocated and the left almost so from being pulled up where her hands were tied above her head.
From...elsewhere...there was nothing. No twinge, no cramps, only a vague sense of nausea that probably derived from her fear for her unborn child. Her relief was immense; surely after such rough handling, she would have felt something had she been miscarrying. She hoped.
Then her feelings crystallized into the coldest of fears when she heard that lit-fuse, rasping chuckle again.
"Awake, little bird?"
There was a pop and a flash, and tiny circle of flame appeared in front of her. Fake flame alchemy, she knew it for what it was. Only a rudimentary form of it, just enough to illuminate. She hoped it cost him a lot.
The flame lit a face she remembered. She looked into the black holes of his eyes, the shadows masking any bit of humanity that might have been there.
She made her own gaze harden. "They will find me."
White teeth flashed. "Oh, I count on that. The little firestarter won't let his little tiercelet get too far from her perch, will he?"
As much as she wanted to speak, Riza made herself stay silent. She wouldn't rise to this creature's bait. She wouldn't engage him, because that was what he wanted. She would wait.
"I remember you, you know. Do you remember me?"
"Fortunately, I don't," she lied. She remembered this psychotic bastard. Raze and Ruin. Two sides of the same coin. He was Ruin. Appropriately nicknamed.
"Hmm. Too bad. You were a tough little thing." He reached out a hand.
"Do not let him touch you," he heard Roy's voice clearly in her mind. There was no telling what would happen if he touched her. She not only remembered him, but remembered his unique specialty in alchemy. The actual theory lay somewhere on her back, below the last of her left ribs. She ducked her head from his reach, her eyes riveted on the array on the palm of his hand.
"I remember you had this smudge of dirt on your little nose." He chuckled again. The sound sliced across her spine. "Precious."
He tilted his head. "Did he get you to sing for him, little bird?" he asked. "All he had to do was crook his little finger, and they would all sing for him. Did it work for you?"
Riza sneered, but held her tongue.
"Well, no matter. He'll find you. And then I'll have him." Kimblee stood, stretching slowly. "It took him long enough to get on this case."
She risked a few words, beyond curious. "You… did all of this to get him?"
He looked at her. "Oh, she has a voice!" Then he shook his head. "That was just a benefit. I have a larger reason for what I've been doing." He reached out again, this time managing to run his hand through her hair. "But, don't you worry your pretty little head about it right now. You should concern yourself with what I intend to do to you."
Riza didn't like the way that sounded, or the look in those burning holes the man called eyes.
]o[
Maes was getting tired. The energy he expended on the Seeking was taking its toll. But he wouldn't stop, not until they got close enough to track them on their own. There had to be something there, something they could use to follow.
Ah, there. He grabbed Roy by the arm and jerked him to the evidence of dragging he'd found on the ground. "Here," he said, slightly breathless.
Roy stared, his jaw working furiously. "For every inch he dragged her..."
"It's only for a few feet, but..."
"It's good enough." Roy placed a hand on Maes' shoulder. "Thank you, friend. I owe you much for this."
"Just save a piece of the bastard for me."
"How about I let you carve his heart out with one of those knives?"
"Sounds fair."
"Don't forget about us, sir," Havoc growled from somewhere behind them.
Roy looked back. "Don't worry. You'll all get your chance. But the coup de grace goes to me. Understand?"
"Once we find out what he was doing and who he was doing it for," Maes reminded.
Roy just looked at him. Maes held himself from a flinch, wondering if this was what his friend looked like on the fields of Ishbal.
]o[
"I'm sure it will take them some time to find us," Kimblee told her, still moving closer. Riza held herself still, even though every instinct in her screamed to scurry away from this creature, stay out of his reach. "It'll get boring while we wait."
"They will find us."
"So you said," He ran wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger. "But what shall I do while I wait?"
"Don't touch me," Riza blurted, then cursed herself.
Kimblee laughed. "I don't think you're in a position to tell me what to do, little bird."
"Stop calling me that."
"Why? Don't you like little endearments?" He leaned in. "What does he call you when no one is around, hmm? Does he have a little pet name for you?" His mouth hovered around her ear, so close she could feel his lips. "Does he have a name for you that makes you shiver?"
"He calls me Lieutenant," she growled, leaned back and spit in his face.
He sat back and wiped the spittle from the side of his face. Then, he balled up his hand and cold-cocked her in the jaw. Her head snapped back, connecting with the wall behind her. Dazed, she shook her head, tried to clear her vision as he leaned in again.
"Do that again and I'll blast you like a holiday torch."
"I'd rather you do that than come near me again."
"Oh really?" His mouth twisted into a parody of a smile as he closed a hand around her neck. "Would you rather?" He trailed his palm down her front, halting somewhere below her navel. "Well. What is this? What is this extra bit of something I sense here? There's a little more of you here than meets the eye, little bird. Isn't there?"
Her eyes widened and she remembered. He could use the composition of her body to form his explosives. He could pull them from her and fashion them into ignition and fuel. He knew exactly how much of what was in a human body.
He could tell if there was more than should be. He could feel the child resting there.
"How would you like it if I exploded this little… thing inside of you instead?" He shifted so he was even closer, his breath circling her ear and crawling down the side of her neck. "I'm sure it won't hurt much."
A small sob escaped her, despite her best efforts to hold it behind her teeth.
"I could do that, you know." He shrugged. "It wouldn't matter. He'd still find us. He'd just have a little surprise waiting for him that he didn't expect."
"No." Riza bit out.
The head tilted again. "I wonder... whose little spawn is this?"
"None of your fucking business."
"Indeed. That tells me what I need to know."
She noticed with growing dread he hadn't moved his hand.
"No. I don't think I'll heat things up quite yet. At least, not that way."
]o[
"Sir," Havoc said as they moved through the dark streets and dank alleyways. "The Lieutenant Colonel...he..."
"Is an alchemist. Yes."
"But, how–,"
"Long story, Jean. Just keep what you've seen to yourself. No one – and I mean no one is to know about it. If the wrong person were to find out–,"
"He would become another weapon for the state."
Roy grunted an affirmative.
"And that would do you no good in getting where you want to be."
Roy turned and stared at Havoc.
"Geez, give me some credit, Mustang. I know what your ambitions are. I know it's more than jokes and empty claims. That's why I'm here."
Roy blinked.
"I believe in what you want." He peered into an open door of an abandoned building. "When you become Fuhrer, people won't have to become weapons. They won't be held hostage to their abilities. Our men won't be forced to be killers to survive."
Roy's eyes narrowed. That was the most succinct thing he'd heard come from Havoc's mouth in a long, long time.
"The others believe in you too. All of them. We all have your back, sir. When the time comes, we'll be there."
Roy caught the inflection in Havoc's tone. All of them. He wondered what was meant by that.
"If we didn't believe in you, none of us would have accepted your offer to become part of your staff."
Roy had nothing to say to that. He had never really been sure if they truly believed in his ability to reach his goal, or if they were just following orders.
"Remember. In order for me to know what I know... I had to spend some time talking with the Lieutenant Colonel about your – ah-hem – situation."
Roy nodded, unable to speak. His mind was busy processing too many variables. Now, to find out that he truly had his people's support, now, when it was possible that—his mind shied away from that thought.
Havoc read it all over his face. "Sir, we'll find her."
He'd sent her there.
And then he heard it. Softly, but from a few buildings away.
A cry. A sob of fear. In a voice he would have recognized had he been on the other side of the world.