]o[ ]o[ ]o[

Games without Frontiers

Chapter 23: I'm the Pain You Tasted

Rating: M for violence

Soundtrack: Firestarter - the Prodigy

The heat of his breath lingered on her neck.

"Perhaps I can get you to sing for me," Kimblee whispered, then his tongue darted out, circling her ear.

Riza shivered in disgust, feeling as if he'd just doused her body in acid.

"He took my teacher. He got all the accolades. He got all of the promotions, the recognition. The Hero of Ishbal." He was saying, even as his hand started wandering again. "What can he do? Nothing without a spark. I can touch anything..." his hand cupped one breast, squeezed. "And set it aflame. Any...thing."

Riza started struggling again, in pure instinct to get away.

"He's useless in the rain. He's helpless without a spark. I can do what I do anywhere. Anytime." His hand moved lower, wandered slowly along her waistband. "Would you like to find out how well?"

Riza couldn't keep it back any longer. "No..."

His breath was hot and slick on her neck. "Why not? Once they're finish with him, you won't have anything to keep you warm anymore." His palm flattened on her stomach again, moved in slow circles. "Because, I'm not stupid. I know that this little...thing...came from him. I know it like I know you'll like what I can do to you."

"Bastard."

"More than likely." A hand reached up and encircled her bound wrists. "What are you going to do about it? You're useless without your hands."

She itched to kick him. Her leg even twitched; he felt it, and sneered into her face.

"You touch me, bitch, and you know what will happen to you," he spat.

And he took the hem of her shirt in both hands and tugged in opposite directions. It tore straight up the middle, laying her bare to his gaze.

Riza clenched her teeth, but couldn't keep the scream from escaping.

In the Academy, soldiers – female and male – had been counseled that this thing could happen any time in battle. They'd been advised to submit and preserve their lives. She thought she'd been conditioned to handle it, but she didn't know if she could. Submission was not part of her nature.

She was glad that she only cried out, made a random sound. Not screamed the name that had been on the tip of her tongue. She wouldn't give this animal the satisfaction of knowing that he was right.

]o[

The four men in the street froze at the sound.

Waited for it come again.

The shriek that followed made Roy's blood curdle in his veins. And he was running, like the scream was a lodestone pulling him directly to its source. He knew it was a short outburst, but it felt like the echo bounced around his mind, guiding him, pulling him.

About a hundred feet away, he picked out the tiny glow from the inside of the building. It was him.

When he would have ran straight into the maelstrom, Maes suddenly jerked him back just as they reached the building and slammed him against a wall, planting a palm in the center of his chest. Roy growled into his friend's face then saw the glint of metal between Maes' fingers and the cold look in his eye. Roy watched impotently as Maes peered around the corner. He watched his friend's expression, to read what he was seeing the room. He saw the color wash from Maes, casting his skin in an eerie glow. Maes muttered something unintelligible before he let the knife fly.

There was sick, gasping sound, then an odd rustle and Roy couldn't stand it anymore. He rushed around Maes and pushed his way into the room.

He saw her, tied to a pipe above her head. Pinioned and jessed and wild. His gaze skirted over her, concentrating on the pulse at her throat, trying to ignore the fact that her shirt… She's alive.

The flash of something passed by the side of his head, the breeze from it ruffling his hair. He turned. Kimblee was laying on the ground, scrabbling at the knife protruding from his left hand. He was twisted and twitching, and Roy could see the other knife sticking out from his right hand. And he hadn't even seen Maes throw the second knife.

Roy's lip curled in a nasty grin.

"Sir, allow me." Havoc's voice stopped him from raising his hand. He watched in mute, frustrated fury as the Second Lieutenant stepped around him, gun raised. Roy cried out, but too late as bullets tore through the air and into first one kneecap, then the other.

Havoc holstered his gun. "He definitely won't be moving now. He's all yours, sir."

Roy looked over once again at Riza. Fuery was standing in front of her, untying her hands; Maes was trying to get her breathing returned to normal. His gaze moved quickly over her, unable to register everything he saw. Not yet. Not yet.

Mostly alive. He'd wanted to take him mostly alive. Not an option anymore.

"Get her out of here," Roy ordered over his shoulder, his voice implacable.

Havoc scooped Riza into his arms, ignoring her weak protests to the contrary. "I've got orders, ma'am," was all he said as he rushed her from the building.

Fuery stopped and stood next to Kimblee's writing form. He pulled back a foot and kicked the man in the side of his head. Then he followed Havoc and Riza out.

"All of you; leave!" Roy spat.

"Roy…" Maes said in a tense, deep voice.

Roy spun and glared at his friend. "Leave."

"Mostly alive, Roy."

"LEAVE!"

He waited, taking deep, gasping, and calming breaths. When he couldn't hear them behind him, Roy returned his regard to the mewling, twitching creature on the ground. He moved snatching the knife from Kimblee's palm, ignoring the scream coming from his victim. He moved toward an iron bar lying on the floor, and knelt down, scratching a quick circle on into the concrete floor. He spun when he heard Kimblee scrabbling and growled, a fierce, bestial sound. Mostly alive my ass.

Roy snatched a knife from Kimblee's hand, wiped it off, and scratched a transmutation circle into the ground. He transmuted the bar into a chain, then moved again, snatching Kimblee up by his collar and dragging him to the pipe. The other alchemist couldn't even struggle through his pain. It was an easy thing to string the bastard from the same pipe from where Riza had been hanging, hands spread so he could not touch them together.

He stood there, watching Kimblee spin and growl impotently.

"How's that feel?" Roy asked, closing on the other alchemist.

Kimblee laughed, spitting blood toward Roy, spattering his great coat.

Roy backhanded him. "You dare to try and use flame alchemy to frame me?" He grabbed the man by the throat. "What a pitiful attempt. Why would you do something so stupid?"

Kimblee laughed. "You won't find out from me," he rasped. "Just know...there is...more to this...than you'll ever...know."

"You always thought I was inferior to you, didn't you," Roy said, pacing a semi-circle around his prey. "Just because you could start things just by a touch."

"Little...firestarter..."

Roy laughed, an ugly sound. "Yes. That's me. The little firestarter, the Raze to your Ruin. You always hated that I got my certification before you. Got my promotions before you." He sneered. "You always hated that I wouldn't become your little fiendish partner."

Kimblee stilled his twisting and pierced Roy with a look born of conflagrations.

"You thought to frame me?" Roy shook his head. "I can't believe you went through all of this to have some sort of revenge. No, this must be an afterthought. There must be more." He tightened his hand. "Tell me."

"Had… to be… sure…"

"Sure of what?"

Kimblee croaked out a laugh. "You'll know soon enough," he rasped.

Roy pulled his gun. Useless, was he? Aimed and pulled the trigger. He wasn't as good as his First Lieutenant, but he didn't need to be.

Kimblee howled. The blood was pumping from the wound to his thigh, exactly where Roy knew the artery would be.

"Think I'm stupid? Havoc's aim was a bit too low." He pointed the gun. "You want to try for somewhere else? I thought not." He holstered the gun and held up his hand again. He could feel dampness wicking through the ignition cloth, rendering the thing ineffective. He frowned slightly.

Kimblee caught the expression and tried to laugh around the blood slowly leeching his life away. "Useless...sonofabitch..."

Roy cocked an eyebrow. Just then, he remembered something Kimblee had told him on the eve of their rampage through the Dahlia sector: 'the one thing worse than death is to avert your eyes from it. Look straight at the people you kill. Don't take your eyes off them for a second. And don't ever forget them, because I promise that they won't forget you.'

So he captured and pinned Kimblee with his gaze. "You're right. These gloves are rubbish in the rain." The tiny flame caught the sparkle of the metal in the center of his palm. Havoc's lighter, pressed into his hand as he entered the room. "But this isn't."

Kimblee's eyes widened.

Roy spun the flint wheel with his finger. It gave him the spark he needed.

]o[

"Put me down."

Havoc acted as if he hadn't heard her, and continued moving until he reached the other side of the street.

"Havoc," Riza repeated, squirming a little. "Put me down."

As soon as he was able, he stopped. "Are you sure, sir?"

She glowered, noticing that he'd reverted back to calling her 'sir', rather than that annoying 'ma'am'. "You have to put me down. Now."

"If you're still hurt–,"

Riza looked over at Hughes, asking with her eyes for some help.

"Havoc, put her down," Hughes said. "Really. He can't see her like this."

Havoc looked own at her, flushed, and allowed her to slip out of his arms and place her feet on the ground. For a split second she wavered unsteadily.

"You see?" Havoc said, pointing. "She–,"

"I'm all right." Riza re-oriented herself and looked toward the building.

There was a bright flash and swirling sound coming from inside, a piercing shriek, and then she heard the unmistakable sound of crackling flames.

"Dammit, Roy," she heard Hughes rumble.

She didn't have much time. She tried to right her shirt as much as she could, cursing the fact that she'd lost her hair clip in her struggles. Maes swung his coat over her shoulders, shielding what she couldn't from view. Her shoulders screamed at her, reminding her that one was dislocated and one almost so. But, she didn't have time for that right now. She had to straighten herself out before he came out of that building.

"Here."

She looked up from her hair clip into Hughes' tired eyes. Quickly, she twisted her hair and put it back to rights. Then she realized–,

She almost laughed as his hand appeared again, this time holding her gun. "I wish I knew how you found us." she murmured, clipping the gun back into its holster. She still felt naked without the second gun, but it was surely better than being completely defenseless. Like she'd been in that room. The weight of the chains pulled at her, imprisoning her under that filthy stare.

Hughes nodded. She noted shadows in his eyes, but refrained from asking any questions, other than, "How do I look?"

"It's enough."

And just in time. The sound of the firestorm snuffed out just as quickly as he had been started. Roy–the Colonel–strode from the building, peeling off his gloves. He looked neither left nor right as the crossed the street, his eyes riveted to his task. When he made it to them, he finally looked up and locked gazes with her. She willed him to look anywhere else, because she could see everything filling his eyes. Things that he couldn't share in the middle of this street in front of some of these people.

"First Lieutenant," he started, his voice startling her in the quiet that surrounded them. He looked her up and down, noted the uniform back in place, her hair in its proper configuration. "You're all right?"

No, I'm not all right. I need you. It hurts where he touched me. No.

She nodded. "I'll survive."

"Good." He started to turn away, then noticed the bruise across her jaw. She saw his eyes narrow, his hand lift slightly, and his lips part to say something, but she turned away before it could cross the air between them. "What is Kimblee's status?" she asked, hoping her voice sounded almost like normal.

The pain of that blow felt better than anything else he had done...and tried to do to her. I need you.

The Colonel paused for an eternal minute, then he looked at Havoc and Fuery. "Get that bastard down. We'll release him into Lieutenant General's custody."

"He's…" Maes began.

"Mostly alive," the Colonel said, sneering. We're heading straight to Grumman and then we're going home. I'm done with this."

"Roy we have to go back to the guest house first," Maes said carefully. "The First Lieutenant-,"

Mustang held up a hand. That effectively shut everyone down. He turned then and looked directly at Riza. She clutched the coat tighter around herself, but it was futile gesture. She saw his jaw tighten at a quick flash of exposed skin and she almost expected him to turn back to finish Kimblee. "Fine," he said. "Back to the guest house. Then to Grumman." He flicked a look at Havoc and Fuery. "Get moving."

Havoc split a look between his Colonel and First Lieutenant, then nodded once. Fuery also fixed them with a myopic regard, but his did nothing more than salute and move off with the Second Lieutenant.

Riza walked slowly between Hughes and the Colonel, holding the greatcoat closed, her shoulder wailing in pain, her wrists aching, her head throbbing where she hit the wall after Kimblee punched her. Her stomach still churned, but fortunately there were no pains where she feared they would be. The other pains were a normal part of combat, something she could take for at least the length of time it took her to get to her room. But, as for the other...if she'd felt one twinge, she would have collapsed right there in the street.

And she was mortified by that feeling. She'd heard of plenty of women who lost all control when they were pregnant, who let their emotions grab them by the short hairs and run them ragged, but she never once expected her to be counted among them. But, as she walked silent between these two men, she wanted to fall into their arms and shake, and weep with relief that there were no pains, nothing to indicate that anything was wrong with her precious baby.

She didn't. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She could see the shadows in Roy's – the Colonel's – eyes. He wanted to say that it was all his fault for sending her up above the city by herself. She couldn't allow that. He was their commander, he had to know that his decision was valid, and it had been the best for the time at hand. And it was. She was a trained, born and bred sniper. Her eyes were keener than anyone else in their group. Only Havoc came close to her skills, and he was still a far cry away from her. She was the best to put above the city, given the bird's eye view, as it was.

It wasn't his fault that she'd allowed herself to be captured by the enemy. It wasn't his fault that she managed to put herself at extreme risk by some careless act she had yet to pinpoint. And she couldn't indicate by look, word, or deed that she had any doubt in his command.

The guesthouse was quiet when they returned. The few people there gaped unabashedly, especially when they moved the crispy Kimblee through the lobby and up to the desk.

The last thing Riza saw before she was led up the stairs with the other was the Colonel dropping his pocket watch on top of the reception desk.