This is truly a week for thanks. Partially because it's Thanksgiving, but mostly because I'm posting this chapter. I'm joking, of course. Chapter 22 starts now.
Chapter 22
Panic. Fear. Anxiety. Worry. All of these things settled into Ed's chest at once, his stomach seizing up at Kimblee's proclamation. He felt himself nearly stumbling backwards but managed to balance himself before he did so. Kimblee, himself, began to cackle once more, but Mustang seemed to have had enough. In the blink of an eye, he forcefully grabbed Kimblee and slammed him against the chair.
"You're lying!" Mustang seethed, but his words seemed to have no effect on Kimblee. "Damn it, Kimblee! Stop laughing!"
"I have no reason to lie to you, Mustang," assured Kimblee. "Bradley plans to kill Ling Yao."
"What if I believe what you say and it was all just a lie? I get discredited and Bradley goes free," Mustang pointed out. Kimblee shrugged.
"That's just a gamble that you'll have to take," Kimblee told him. "You can choose to believe me or not, but we both know that if you do nothing, Bradley wins either way. You can't have everything, Mustang. Sometimes you have to make the hard choices."
Somehow, at Kimblee's words, Ed was starting to calm down, and from his glance over at Mustang, it looked as though the head detective was starting to do the same. Mustang pulled away from Kimblee but still retained the fierce look on his face.
"Say that I do believe that Bradley is going to kill President Yao, how could he even manage it? Everybody at the gala tonight knows that there's enhanced security. How could Bradley possibly slip through the net?"
"They're all looking for an assassin, not the commissioner of the police!" Kimblee shouted, as if it were obvious. "Not to mention, Bradley's had this planned for months. Apparently things were just made complicated when he shot Claudio."
"You're saying that Bradley shot Prince Claudio, too?" Mustang asked, surprised. Ed, on the other hand, wasn't surprised whatsoever. Greed had told him that Homunculus Corp was behind the assassination of Prince Claudio. At the time, of course, they hadn't yet connected the evil corporation to Commissioner Bradley; once they had, so much happened that the thought of the assassination fell completely by the wayside. However, now that it was rearing its ugly head again, the truth made sense. Ling's life was in danger.
"Mustang," Ed breathed out, grabbing the head detective's attention, "Kimblee's telling the truth."
"Bradley had said you were a smart one, Elric. That was why he put you on suspension," Kimblee revealed. Ed snapped a look at him; a look which clearly made Kimblee laugh with mirth. "Didn't you ever wonder why Bradley suspended you for just a week? Funny how it was just enough time that the gala fell nicely into it."
"What are you trying to say, Kimblee?" Ed demanded of the lunatic.
"I'm saying that Bradley tried his hardest to remove you from the police station. He knew that you were investigating Hughes' death with Mustang," Kimblee explained. "Eventually, the two of you would connect the dots, so he decided to completely remove one of you from the situation. By suspending you for a week, he figured he'd buy himself enough time to succeed tonight. Obviously, he didn't plan for the two of you working off the books."
"So, now it all makes sense," Mustang said, his face drawn into a scowl. "He wanted the investigation to stop long enough to carry out his plans. Tell me, is Bradley pulling the trigger himself, or is he leaving it up to a man like you?"
"People like me are just the clean-up crew," Kimblee answered with a smug smile. "Something like this, Bradley wouldn't leave to chance. He may not be as good a sniper as your pal, Hawkeye, but he's more than capable of pulling the trigger."
More logic entered Ed's brain with those words. Bradley had disappeared during the first gala. While he and Winry had been speaking with the Bradleys, the commissioner had slunk off after someone had come to speak to him. That had no doubt been the cue for the man to do what he had really come there to do: kill Prince Claudio. Mustang speaking again brought Ed out of his thought process.
"So, why are you telling us all this, Kimblee?" he asked angrily. Kimblee quirked an eyebrow.
"I already told you: I want to see who wins. If both sides are armed with the same information, then which side is going to prevail? The bloodthirsty commissioner with an agenda or the pained detective out to avenge his best friend? Which one of the two is truly fit to lead the police force? That's all I care about. After all, I'm going to jail anyway." Suddenly Kimblee leaned forward. Both Breda and Havoc moved to restrain him, but the crazed detective's gunshot wound stopped him from leaning forward too much. "So, Roy Mustang, do you really think it's a good idea to sit around talking to me when Ling Yao gives a speech at 8: 15 and you're still in South City?"
It was like a switch was flipped in all their brains. The peril which they were facing suddenly became real, and the time that they had felt incredibly short. Mustang, naturally, was the first to take charge.
"Breda, stay with Kimblee and bring him over to South PD, I don't care if Archer throws a hissy fit," he ordered. Breda nodded and picked Kimblee up. Kimblee groaned but otherwise said nothing. "The rest of us are heading to Central. Fullmetal rides with me. Havoc, grab Feury and let's go. We have no time to lose."
Havoc dashed from the room right away, Armstrong taking the lead after him. Mustang looked to Ed who nodded back, as if in confirmation. The two chose to not waste a single moment talking and they quickly left after the other two cops. Within moments, Mustang had started his car and peeled away towards the highway.
"Fullmetal, you worked in Central for six months, right?" Mustang asked once they had pulled onto the highway. Ed turned in his seat to look at the head detective.
"Yeah, why?" Ed asked in bewilderment. What did his work in Central have anything to do with now?
"So you'd know the streets and what's where," Mustang said. Ed could see Mustang was trying to confirm something, but he couldn't quite see what. So he just nodded his head. "How close is the Armstrong Estate to the Presidential District where the gala's being held?"
Finally, Ed understood what his companion was going for. "About a twenty minute walk."
"Good." Mustang fished into his pocket and tossed the phone he took from it to Ed. A loud horn sounded as the older man swerved to avoid a car. "Hawkeye's the first on speed dial. Call her and tell her to meet us outside the building where the gala is."
Not bothering to ask why or discuss it, Ed pressed the button and Hawkeye's phone began ringing. After two rings, the female detective picked up. "What do you need, sir?"
"This is Ed," Ed said, but didn't bother to explain anymore of why he was there. "Mustang says to head straight to the gala and wait for us there. We're on our way to Central." Movement on the other end of the line told the forensics specialist that Hawkeye was already mobile. Still, it seemed she had questions.
"What's going on, Ed?' she asked briskly. "Did the plan work?"
"Too well…Bradley's going to assassinate Ling when he gives his speech in a little under an hour. We have to stop it!"
"Then I'll see you all there." Then the line cut off. Ed deposited the cell phone into a cup holder while Mustang looked at him inquisitively.
"She'll be there." Mustang nodded as he further accelerated his car. Suddenly, an unpleasant thought hit Ed. Al and Winry were at the gala. Their lives could potentially be in danger, especially if any remaining operatives of Homunculus were left lurking around. Panicking, Ed dug into the folds of his own jacket for his own phone.
"What's wrong, Fullmetal?" Ed didn't answer, fumbling with his phone as he tried to dial Al's number. After all, Winry wouldn't have her phone on her. "Fullmetal!"
"My family!" he cried exasperatedly, finally managing to call Al's cell. One ring…two rings…"Come on, Al, pick up!" Three rings…Four rings…
"Hi, you've reached Alphonse Elric. I'm not available at the moment, so leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible." The beep sounded shortly after.
"Damn it, Al! Answer your cell! Ling's about to be shot!" Deciding that nothing more needed to be said, Ed ended the call.
"Relax, Fullmetal, we'll get there," Mustang assured him. Ed, however, felt like he had temporarily forgotten how to breathe. His family was in danger, and if not his family, then at least someone who was going to become part of his extended family. Now, this case was far too quickly taking an exceedingly personal turn.
"Tell that to me when you have loved ones in danger." He was grateful that Roy had wisely decided not to say anything. Instead, both men chose to look at the clock. It was only a little after 7:30. Breathing heavily, Ed glimpsed a sign that read "Central City: 10 miles".
The nervousness that had plagued them since they started out didn't abate. Almost every mile, Ed found himself dialing Al's number. Every mile, Al didn't answer that call. And every mile, Roy would simply mutter "We'll make it," in response. The tension was frying their nerves. Finally, as the clock turned five to eight, the two men entered the outskirts of Central City. Mustang asked Ed to call the other car; it turned out they were only a few minutes behind them.
The closer they got to the gala, the more congested the traffic became. When they were finally within a few blocks of the gala, the rows of cars and people became so thick they had to stop the car and run. It was 8:05.
"Police! Move!" Mustang yelled, but while some people moved, most of the crowd didn't even bother to turn their heads. "We don't have time for this."
BANG! The shot was fired into the air, and the people backed away instantly. The two men didn't bother to wait for any other reaction. They sprinted forward, tumbling their way through the crowd as the entrance to the gala was in sight.
"Sir!" cried the voice of Hawkeye as they approached her. "I'm sorry, sir, but they won't let me in. I told them it was an emergency-"
"It's fine," Mustang said, cutting her off. "Come on, we have five minutes before that shot is fired. Every second we waste brings Ling closer to death." Ed didn't even bother saying anything. His throat felt dry and his hands felt clammy; any thought he had was catching in his throat. The three moved forward, but Ed glanced behind them, hoping to catch a glimpse of Havoc and the others bringing up the rear. They weren't there.
Steeling himself, Ed turned back around to follow his older companions as they came up to a big hulking man that was guarding the entrance to the gala. Ed's memory twitched. He had seen this man somewhere before, but he couldn't remember.
"What are you doing here?" the man asked, holding up a hand to stop Mustang. The man had spoken extremely slowly and still Ed's memory craved the answer to just where he had seen this man before.
"Amestris Police. We have confirmation of a possible assassin on the premises," Mustang announced authoritatively. "We'll need your help to locate the man."
"There are no…assassins here. That would be…such a pain," the man said with a leering smile. Mustang huffed impatiently.
"I don't have time to deal with this nonsense!" Mustang declared, drawing his gun and pushing past the hulking guard. The guard stumbled a little as Hawkeye made to follow her superior. In this moment, Ed finally figured out where he had seen the man: ten days ago at the previous gala. He had come and spoken to Bradley right before…
"Mustang, wait! He's-" Before the full warning could be spat out, Mr. Indol reached forward with surprising speed and grabbed Hawkeye. Her gun tumbled from her grasp and Indol swiftly grabbed it, forcing it to her head. Mustang stopped in his advancement as Indol shimmied into the building, edging in front of him, his grip still entirely firm on Hawkeye.
"Don't take another step…Detective Mustang," he warned, his voice rumbling. "You're such a pain, detective. If you move, the lady detective dies."
Ed found his fist clenching. They were running out of time. Any minute now, Ling was going to step on that stage to take a bullet. Knowing that they had to make some kind of move, Ed glanced over at Mustang, hoping to see some sort of plan developing on the head detective's face. He didn't. Instead, Mustang's jaw was tight and he looked prepared to kill. Of course, killing would only lead to retaliation in the worst way possible against Riza.
Indol's grin widened even further, if that were possible. "That's right, detective. Now turn around and-"
"Don't worry about me, sir!" Riza yelled, cutting the man off. "You came here for a reason. Don't let me slow you down." Now Ed's gaze was torn between the two of them. Riza looked furious and defiant while Mustang's look had shifted to…calculating?
Another diverted gaze to Hawkeye later, and Ed saw her insistent glare. Her eyes were pointing somewhere, but Ed knew that despite Indol's head possibly being full of bricks, he'd still suspect something if they turned around. In fact, whatever Hawkeye seemed to notice, Indol seemed equally oblivious of, his own gaze fixated on Mustang.
"Fullmetal," Mustang began in an undertone, "if I fired my gun here, do you think I'd cause a panic in the ballroom?"
"It's pretty far down the hallway," Ed answered.
"Yes or no?"
"Well, if it's only those two: no." Mustang smirked at that.
"Good," he responded before raising his voice. "I'm sorry, Riza."
Ed had no time to even think about what Mustang was doing. In seconds, the head detective's gun was up and he fired. It was a good thing the detective was a decent shot. The bullet nicked Riza's shoulder and she grit her teeth momentarily. She hadn't been the target however, and the bullet slammed into the shoulder of the larger man behind her. Indol cried in pain as Riza seemed to use all of her strength to jam her elbow into his chest. Mustang grabbed Ed, not without protest, and pulled him aside as Riza also dove out of the way.
A great cry resounded from behind them and Ed saw Armstrong charging up the steps. For the second time that evening, Armstrong slammed into their enemy and tackled him to the ground. The gun in Indol's hand cascaded across the floor. Mustang let go of Ed and quickly retrieved it, before going to Riza.
"I'm fine, it's just a graze," she assured him with a smile. "We don't have time."
Mustang nodded and left her grasping her shoulder. Instead he approached Indol. "Who are you? What's your code name?"
"Sloth…" the man answered slowly but angrily.
"What are you doing here?" Mustang questioned. Ed found himself getting antsy. Did they really have time to ask these questions?
"Hired as security."
"Homunculus Corp is the extra security they hired for the gala?" Ed asked, completely surprised at the revelation.
"We needed insurance," Sloth answered with another leer. "But most of them don't know the plan."
"Where's Bradley? !" Mustang demanded angrily. Sloth just began to laugh and, in an obvious fit of rage, Roy slammed Sloth's head into the ground. The large man barely seemed fazed by it. "Where the fuck is Bradley? !"
Taking a breath in the midst of his guffawing, he answered with one word, "Roof."
Ed didn't bother standing around a second longer, taking off as soon as the words had left Sloth's mouth. He heard Mustang calling after him but didn't bother stopping. His eyes quickly located the service stairs to the roof, and he dashed straight on to them. By now, there was probably less than a minute left before the shot was fired. They had been idiots to get distracted like this. Other than Kimblee's mistake, Bradley's planning had been impeccable. Of course, Homunculus Corp had been hired on as extra security; that was the only way to ensure that no one would go on the roof. A loud clang below told Ed that Mustang had joined him on the stairs. After what seemed like an eternity, but was likely only thirty seconds, Ed reached the access door to the roof and kicked it open with his automail leg.
Only five seconds were needed to see Bradley positioned at the glass domed ceiling over the ballroom. Ed dug his feet in and rushed toward the commissioner.
"Don't worry, I'm in position," Bradley seemed to be saying as Ed thundered toward him. "Of course it will. That's why I'm doing it."
"BRADLEY!" Ed yelled, drawing a jerk reaction from the commissioner. He ducked as Bradley randomly fired the sniper rifle. Coming out of his crouch he saw Bradley take something out of his ear. In the next second, the older man had smashed that something, and kicked it off the roof.
"Fullmetal, I thought you were at the Southern Dreams Motel," he said angrily. In that instant, Ed saw nothing remaining of the old commissioner. Instead of the kind but hard commissioner, he saw an assassin: cold, calculating and angry. Ed would even go as far to say he was wrath personified. "Well, I can't say I expected you to get past Sloth."
"It's over Bradley," said Mustang calmly. He had finally joined Ed's side, his gun trained directly on Bradley. However, Ed couldn't take his eyes off the far more imposing man. It was dark out now, but he was framed by the light coming from the ballroom. He seemed to have discarded his tuxedo for the moment, having exchanged it for a skin-tight black t-shirt that made him more imposing than ever. On top of that, he continued to hold the sniper gun at the ready, and Ed noticed the distinctive shape of a sword sheath on his back.
Applause rose from below, and Ed supposed that Ling had taken the podium safely. Bradley took advantage of the momentary distraction and threw the sniper rifle at the both of them. Neither saw it coming and the gun slammed into the both of them, knocking them off balance. From the corner of his eye, Ed saw Bradley race toward the only other door on the roof. Wasting no time, he sprung up and Mustang with him. Together, the two went after Bradley.
"Armstrong took Sloth into custody," Mustang informed him as they ran. "Havoc and Feury are handling other security details while they wait for an ambulance. They'll join us when they're finished."
"That could be a while," Ed retorted.
"Doesn't matter. We averted the crisis we were trying to, so now we just have to catch Bradley," Mustang reminded him, but Ed couldn't help but scowl. "Here."
"What the hell? !" Ed exclaimed, taking the gun that Mustang handed him. They quickly stopped by the door, now slightly ajar. Mustang peered in surreptitiously but seemed to see nothing. "I'm not killing Bradley for you."
"It's for protection," Mustang corrected him. "Besides, killing Bradley is my job." Ed saw the ominous dark shadow cross over Mustang's face and his stomach sunk. The man before him truly wanted Bradley's blood, and would stop at nothing to get it. Envy's blood hadn't quite been enough for him. Yet, Ed couldn't quite find the words to stop him. "I'll go in first, so cover me."
Ed nodded, gulping down whatever fear he had of facing Bradley. Mustang kicked the door open and darted in, his weapon held at the ready. Ed followed behind him, his hands clenching the gun uncomfortably. He stopped short as he ran into Mustang's back. Wondering why he had stopped, he peeked around Mustang to a sight that absolutely froze him.
Bradley wasn't running, or hiding; he was simply looking for an appropriate place to fight. The room they were in, dimly lit by the overhead lamps, was more than adequate. It seemed to be some sort of rooftop storage space, with towers of crates and other various knickknacks adorning the room. Just from a cursory glance, Ed noticed a bunch of plastic bottles, a wastepaper basket, a glass vase and what looked to be a metal safe among the room's contents. Standing in the midst of these corridors of forgotten objects was Bradley, his sword drawn. For a brief moment, he wondered why the commissioner even had it before realizing it was likely a lucky charm of sorts to the man.
"You know, Mustang, you've been an upstart since the day you joined the academy," Bradley said coolly, taking a step forward. Both of the younger men took a step back as the door closed behind them. "But I will admit I was impressed with you: apprentice to the legendary Berthold Hawkeye. Even now, I'm impressed you backed me into such a corner.
"Stay calm," Mustang warned Ed in a whisper. Well, easy for him to say, Ed thought.
"But a cornered animal is the most dangerous. I learned that watching you try to catch Hughes' killer. Now, however, I'm tired of playing games. I've come this far and I certainly don't mind a few more bodies!"
Bradley rushed forward and Ed tripped backward, the gun tumbling from his hands and towards the door. Mustang didn't fall and Bradley took a powerful slash with his sword. Mustang backpedaled to avoid the attack and tried to aim his gun. Unfortunately, the sixty year old man was far faster than he looked. In a split second, his sword changed direction, batting away Mustang's gun like an irksome fly. The shot misfired as Bradley jammed his knee into Mustang's stomach, knocking him back.
Ed finally got back onto his feet and barreled for Bradley. The commissioner seemed to sense the move, however, as he made another swipe, this time aimed towards Ed. Ed jumped back and planted his right foot, swinging at Bradley with his left. The resultant metal sound indicated that both had blocked each other's blows. Ed's eyes swiveled to behind his foe, where he saw Mustang regaining himself and darting behind one of the crate towers. Realizing that his diversion had worked, Ed's arm whipped out, knocking Bradley's elbow up. Bradley's grip loosened and Ed managed to get free, barely avoiding the sword slash as he raced down the corridor.
As he ran he saw the collection of plastic bottles sitting atop a teetering pile of crates. The brief moment it took him to look was also the moment that Bradley caught up. Ed fell to the ground, sliding over to the stack and kicking it with his left leg. The tower began to tumble as the forensics specialist rolled out of the way, avoiding yet another attack that cleaved the plastic bottles in half. Thankfully, it was Bradley's ill-timed attack that became a boon as the crates began crashing around him.
Ed jumped up and noticed a narrow corridor that led to the side where Mustang lay in wait. Not waiting for Bradley to recover, Ed hastily made his way over to the passage and squeezed himself through, coming face to face with Mustang.
"How long can you distract him for?" Mustang asked, his face one of rigid fury.
"I just got away from him, and now you want me to go back and play with that psycho? !" Somehow saying the word "psycho" reminded him of the time he was hiding from Barry. Only now it was a lucky sword instead of a lucky cleaver. Had that really been just three weeks ago? Ed laughed in his head: same situation, higher stakes.
"I just need one shot! Buy me that one-" Mustang didn't finish the order as the stack of crates between them came blasting outward. Amidst the falling wooden debris stood Bradley, blood dripping from his forehead. To Ed, he looked to be a demon.
Bradley's sword came at them once more, but Ed lifted his leg and blocked the assault with his shin. With a grunt, Ed extended his arm and disengaged himself from the defense. His other leg whipped around and pushed Bradley back with a resounding "oomph!" Ed turned and furiously said to Mustang, "Make it happen!"
Then he entered back into the fray, his elbow jerking into Bradley's jaw as the man tried to recover. Pressing his advantage, Ed aimed another well placed kick that sent Bradley back into the pile of collapsed crates. Bradley seemed to be recovering now, so Ed rushed forward and kicked at him once more. He didn't expect Bradley's move. Instead of defending against the strike with his sword, he caught the blow with his left hand. Ed tried hard to get out of the grip, panic once more setting in. Bradley's sword descended and Ed made a snap decision to block with his right arm, deciding to protect his body. The sharp metal seared across his arm and Ed cried out. Using all the strength in his body, Ed lifted his other leg and kicked himself away from Bradley.
Bradley became winded as Ed struggled to get up. Where was Mustang when he needed him most? Pain raced up Ed's arm and he gritted his teeth. Still he persisted in using both of his arms to help him stand. It wasn't working properly, something was wrong. Blood spurted out in unnatural amounts from his arm as the pain persisted. He didn't have time for this! Bradley was back to his fighting prime, slashing at him wildly; fitting for a cornered animal. Ed managed to block the attacks until Bradley's sword changed direction again.
With tremendous force, he lifted the wastepaper basket that was lying abandoned and flung it at Ed. The object hit Ed, blindsiding him as the older man's sword came back for a round two, once more slashing Ed's right arm with impunity. Ed stumbled and fell to the ground. Bradley advanced on him and Ed crawled backward, the lacerations on his arm burning with every movement. His left hand touched cool metal and Ed recognized it as the gun he had lost. Not wanting to give Bradley any more opportunity, Ed whipped the gun from behind his back and aimed it…only for it to be swiped out of his hand. Bradley's glare in that moment froze him cold as he jammed his sword straight through Ed's arm, withdrawing it just as quickly. Now the pain was too much and tears formed.
"Stay there, Fullmetal," Bradley said coldly. "I'm going to kill Mustang, and then I'll return for you."
Ed tried to lift a hand to stop him, but found that he couldn't. He could feel every bit of pain present in his right arm, but he couldn't even move it. Bradley turned around, his sword dripping with Ed's blood. This was it. They were done. At least, that was what Ed thought until Roy darted out and took a shot at Bradley. The bullet missed as the commissioner went on the attack. In a swift movement, he flung the glass vase towards Mustang with his sword. Mustang recovered quickly and shot at the vase.
The glass broke into large shards that flew outward with immense force. Roy turned away, the glass merely battering his backside. Bradley wasn't as lucky as his close contact to the vase enabled one of the glass shards to hit his face, cutting cleanly across his left eye. He screamed loudly, dropping his sword and clutching his eye as it bled profusely. Mustang hastily approached him, kicking the sword away before kicking the man to the ground. Then, with cold precision, he aimed his gun at Bradley's head. Bradley began to laugh.
"Are you going to shoot me, Mustang?" Bradley asked, his voice laced with chuckles. "Are you going to take your revenge? Are you going to prove to me that you have what it takes?"
Roy's grip tightened, and all Ed could do was stare helplessly. The dark shadow once more passed over Roy's face as he continued to hold his gun on the commissioner. Then, everything became clear. Ed no longer saw Roy holding a gun on Bradley. Instead, he saw himself in the head detective's position, and in Bradley's was Scar. At that moment, Ed understood; if Roy went through with this, everything he had worked toward would be undone. The seconds it would take for that bullet to leave the chamber would be the very same seconds that ruined everything. Roy could not kill Bradley.
"Come on, Mustang, show me you've got the stones for it. Kill me," antagonized Bradley. Ed gritted his teeth through the pain; he had to say something.
"Don't you dare do it, Mustang!" he yelled, almost impossibly loud. "Once you do it, there's no going back."
"I'm the one who had your friend killed. Just remember him. Do the dead not demand justice?"
"Do you really think Hughes would have wanted justice like this? Think of what he'd want!" Roy looked to be struggling now, internally debating over the issue. Ed had to speak fast. "Do you think everyone else would want you to do this? Breda? Havoc? Hawkeye?"
"I-" Roy stammered out.
"Shooting Bradley isn't justice. It's just cold-blooded murder."
"Murder is necessary sometimes!" Bradley cried, his tone somehow more furious. "You want to be commissioner? Then sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Are we really going to pretend I got my position by avoiding a deal with the devil? !"
"You can't do this!" Ed protested, begging for his words to break through. "Look at your face Mustang! You kill Bradley and you'll always have a face like that: the face of a monster. Do you really think you can be a good commissioner with a face like that?"
"Oh, stop debating, Mustang. KILL ME!"
Roy's hand tightened on the gun and Ed yelled out one last attempt to stop him. "Damn it, Roy! Trust your partner!"
Everything froze. It was only five seconds, but it was enough. Roy seemed to hear his words and turned to look at him. Ed stared at him fiercely, glaring into the lost and broken eyes of Roy Mustang. Then the head detective's eyes changed, becoming clear and focused. He nodded, and lowered the gun. Ed breathed in relief as the man took out his handcuffs.
"King Bradley, you are under arrest for the murder, conspiracy to commit murder and other crimes," he said as he cuffed Bradley. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be…"
Ed's head was beginning to swim, drowning out Mustang's words. He barely noticed the door behind him opening. He couldn't even see straight. Damn, his arm hurt. But why couldn't he move it? Soon, he saw Roy's face next to him.
"We got him."
"Yeah…" breathed Ed laboriously. "Next time, try listening to me right away."
"Of course, partner. Now let's get you some med-Hey! Ed! Ed!" Ed could barely register the voice. He was too far gone. The blood loss was overwhelming. He gave a quick smile, and fell unconscious.
Author's Note: Right on schedule. Well, if you can tell, this story will wrap up next chapter. I'll explain a few more things and tie up a few loose ends. Until then, well, I hope you'll wait since I'm done with the chapter, but it still needs to be typed up. In two weeks the story will end so stay tuned. In the meantime, please review and Dare to Be Silly.