Riza threw one last, quick glance over her shoulder as she hurriedly made her way down the steps of the military hospital. Wrapping her arms around herself, she hugged the General's jacket closer to her body, hoping to block out the cool, icy wind that had picked up. And yet, regardless of how warm she tried to keep herself, she still continued to shiver.

It wasn't long after the General and Edward had left that she began to feel uncomfortably claustrophobic in that small, windowless hospital room. Eventually those feelings of confinement had overrun and surpassed the feelings of pain she felt in her joints and body; to the point where she needed to just go.

She had waited until she heard Breda, whom was stationed outside of her hospital room, leave. Grabbing the General's black trench jacket he had inattentively left behind, she had thrown it over her shoulders and quietly slipped out and closed the door behind her, and made her way down the hall.

It was by pure chance that she had passed an empty nurse's station with a lost and found box. Without even slowing down, she dug her hand into the box and grabbed the first hat she found: a black, unassuming messenger boy's cap. After seizing it and glancing around to be sure that no one was around, Riza tore the surgeon's cap from her head and replaced it with the newfound cap. She'd replace it with a more appropriate covering once she reached her ultimate destination.

But now that she was well-covered, she briskly made her way toward the one place she could really think: Central Headquarters.

She promised herself that she would be gone for only an hour. It took only twenty minutes to get to that… place, so at the very least, the General and Edward would be gone for at least that amount of time; especially if they were going to be looking around.

Just for an hour…

That was all the time she needed to clear her head. To be at a place where she was always herself; doing something that was hers and hers alone.

She'd deal with the General's inevitable chiding later… that is, if Breda even realized she was gone.

As she turned a corner onto the main street that led to Central HQ, Riza was surprised to find a mass of people walking in both directions along the sidewalk she was on. Taking a few quick measures to ensure that her jacket and hat were secure, she advanced, navigating her way through the crowds of people. Apparently it was a busy night in Central. For what, though, she was unsure.

As she continued to make her way through the mass of people, and after muttering a few apologies to people she had accidentally jostled in her haste, she began to notice more and more just how loud they all seemed to become. Once she had made that realization, it seemed as if the sounds intensified exponentially. Those that were whispering seemed as if they were talking, and those that were talking normally sounded as though they were screaming.

The cacophony was only part of the overall barrage of stimuli, however.

Another gust of wind whipped past Riza, threatening to pull the cap from her head. Reaching up quickly and forcing it back down, she tried to keep her composure as a wave of scents pummeled her senses; some sweet, others rancid, and some completely unfamiliar. Sucking in a deep breath, she trudged forward, seeing the end of the large crowd just a few hundred feet in front of her. But unfortunately, also seeing every fine detail of every person before that point.

As if seeing them for the first time, her eyes darted from one person to another, then over to another. Every movement, whether it be a loose strand of hair flapping wildly in the relentless gusts or a hand raised animatedly during conversation, was perceived by her.

The over-stimulation was nauseating. She took a deep breath as she stumbled out of the crowd, eyes watering from the sensory overload. To her right she caught a glimpse of an alleyway. Stumbling into it, she made her way far enough into it to lean heavily against the side of the building. After a few moments, she slowly sank to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest as she rested her back against the brick wall.

Any numbing effect from the cold, harsh wind had long passed; the pain in her joints and body having returned all at once. Squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth, she leaned her head back and rested it against the wall, trying desperately to alleviate it… or to at least stop the overflow of stimulants.

After sitting for a few moments and trying desperately to keep her composure, a noise brought her out of it; ringing loudly in her ears. Slowly opening her eyes upon realizing that the thundering noise was the sound of footsteps on gravel, she wearily turned her head toward its source.

A small, wrinkled gentleman stood a few feet away, his concerned eyes watching her intently. "Miss," he spoke softly, his voice just above a whisper, "Are you alright?"

She watched him for a few moments, unwavering in her gaze. Even in the dimly lit alleyway, she could make out his slightly dilated pupils. Hear the detectable increase in his heart rate. See his brow creased in concern. A heartbeat later, she nodded slightly and shot him a small, weary smile. "I'm fine," she murmured reassuringly, hoping he would take the hint and leave.

The old man took another step forward, his eyes scanning down her and to her feet.

Her eyes followed his downward until she too was looking at her own feet. She had nearly forgotten that she had forgone trying to keep her boots on her feet. Because after she had stood up from the hospital bed, she realized that the muscles in her feet refused to relax to the point where she couldn't touch her heels to the ground. Discovering that walking on the balls of her feet was her only option, she had decided to abandon the notion of shoes entirely.

"Your feet must be freezing," he exclaimed quietly, his eyes never wandering from her bare feet. He went to take another step forward, but was stopped when she spoke again.

Eyes still cast downward and voice lowered in warning, Riza growled, "I'm fine."

He froze, either taken aback by her uncooperativeness... Or in realization that something wasn't quite right. She could see in her peripheral vision that he was struggling within himself, trying to decide if he should obey her wishes to leave her alone or not. Finally, he took a slow step back, then another and another, until he was finally at the mouth of the alleyway. When he paused once again, she raised her eyes to meet his, her expression hardened.

That was the final nail in the coffin. Realizing that she indeed did not want his assistance, he slowly turned away and hobbled around the corner, disappearing into the continual crowd that was milling by.

Closing her eyes and resting her forehead on her knees, she sighed heavily; hoping, praying that this was just one long nightmare.

After finally making her way to Central Headquarters, Riza slipped in through one of the back entrances, hoping to avoid seeing too many people. Luckily, it seemed that most of the officers were out or in other parts of the building, because her interactions between herself and anyone else were few and far between.

Finding the women's locker room that housed her locker, she discarded her hospital attire and cap, redressing herself quickly but carefully with her spare uniform and rarely used officer's hat. Shrugging the General's jacket back over her shoulders and awkwardly slipping on her extra pair of boots, she departed hastily, lest she encounter someone she knew.

Navigating through the halls of the command center, she soon found herself outside the double doors that led to the shared office space she and the men shared. Pushing the door open just a crack, she slid inside and closed it with a small click behind her. Leaning into it, she glanced up at the room before her, a sense of calm washing over her. Despite the lights being shut off, she could clearly see their desks scattered about the room, bathed in the faint glow of the moonlight that radiated through the office's large windows.

Not wanting to sit and dwell for too long, however, she swiftly made her way over to the doors that led to the General's office. Pushing them open, she quietly padded around his desk and sunk onto the bench that hugged the bay window it sat in front of, basking herself in the soft light that flooded the room. Training her gaze on the courtyard below, she sighed deeply. This was home.

Riza let her eyes wander around the courtyard, silently noting whether or not there were any changes in structure, placement of objects, or anything else that could be "suspicious."

After the official announcement was made regarding the passing of the Fuhrer's torch to Roy, Riza had quickly jumped into action, already formulating a plan regarding the safety measures they would implement for the big event. Riza had always been a planner, even though the inauguration wasn't for a year after the announcement. With a man like Roy Mustang, it was good to begin planning well in advance. Most of the planning included finding and disabling any place that could be used as a vantage point for someone that may want to do the General harm.

This area provided her with the best view, allowing her to see nearly every weak spot. She had frequented that one spot so often that Havoc playfully referred to it as the "Hawk's Perch." Upon first hearing the name he had given to it, Riza had rolled her eyes. But she didn't correct him, so the name stuck. So when the General would be looking for her after hours, he'd always check the "perch" first.

She had been so absorbed in scanning the ground below, Riza almost didn't hear the sound of the office's door creaking open. Eyes widened and heart racing, she jerked her head upward.

Standing in the doorway, leaning heavily into his curved wooden cane, was General Thomas. Noticing her eyes on him, he smiled broadly through his salt and pepper beard, matching her stare with his own.

The hairs on her neck stood on end. Despite the inviting grin he had on his face, his eyes were calculating and cold.

She was never fond of him before, merely tolerating his presence when he was around. The man was an expert at making small, subtle jabs at the choice of Roy taking over as the next Fuhrer. The General sometimes didn't catch it, but she always did. She knew that he would cause problems for them once Roy took his rightful position as the leader of their nation.

But now, with her senses in this state of flux, she could see and deduce so much more about him. This man was so much more than he readily projected to the world: this man was very, very dangerous.

"Fancy seeing you here, Captain," the grey-haired General finally spoke, his deep voice ringing in her ears. "It's funny... I was just on my way to the hospital to speak with you and a couple of other men. Looks like I'll have one less interview to conduct there."

He hobbled around the desk and pulled Roy's chair out from behind it, settling into it as if he owned it. The over-confident air about him greatly irked her, though she hid her disgust well behind her blank mask.

Leaning forward,he rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. "You look like you're doing well," he continued, making his words more of a question rather than a statement. Scanning her up and down, his eyes stopped on her head, zeroing in on her uncharacteristic hat.

"Mild head concussion," she murmured in response to his stare. "It keeps the cold pack in place," she added, referencing the hat.

Seeming to take the excuse as fact, he nodded. "Well, I won't take too long then, Captain. Just a few questions about what you saw." He wasn't giving her the option of backing out.

"There was nothing to see," she responded apologetically, with a small dash of false regret. "All I remember is being taken… the rest of the details are fuzzy."

The older General furrowed his brow at her recounting, frowning as he did so. After a few moments of contemplation, he sighed and leaned his cane against Roy's chair. He slowly stood and turned toward the bay window, clasping his hands behind his back.

Riza tensed, sensing a sudden and drastic change in his demeanor. His over-confidence began to shift and change into something uglier and more twisted. Something deep down inside of her screamed for her to run, but even if it were appropriate she could not; she was frozen there, unable to tear her eyes from him. That deep-set instinct inside of her howled at her over and over again, telling her that this emotion… this "aura" about him was pure, unadulterated rage. It screamed over and over again of danger.

And yet, his face barely changed. Aside from a wicked glint in his eye, the graying, wrinkled man made no other indication that would lead her to deduce what he was truly feeling. This man was a monster.

Staring through the window in front of him, the man spoke, "I'm confident that the General told you about what had transpired." He didn't allow her to answer, simply continuing as if she had agreed with him. "Then," he continued coldly, "you know what must be done."

Pushing back her escalating feelings of uneasiness, Riza slowly shook her head. "Sir, I'm afraid I don't understand what that means."

He turned his narrowed, piercing black eyes toward her, sending shivers up her spine. "Simple, Captain. An extermination campaign."

"What?" She tried desperately to hide her disbelief and horror. "Sir, that's… that's murder."

For a brief moment, he too shared her disbelief. However, he quickly concealed it behind a dark chuckle. "Murder, Captain? Hardly that... It's simply elimination, eradication, euthanasia, or whatever the hell you want to call it. It's ridding the world of abominations that were never meant to be; the unholy offspring of a twisted and demented taboo." Turning back toward the window, he continued, his voice laced with hatred. "Those beasts killed six of my finest men and then some. And from what my men could tell from that grisly scene, they created another abomination," he spat venomously.

"They've declared war on us, Captain, and I have reports that they've infiltrated Central Command; the Council has already given the order. And if you were wise, and I know that you are, youwill convince General Mustang to follow my lead. The second something like this gets out to the public, there will be chaos; because, who knows how long it will be before they start killing civilians, killing children…if they haven't already done so." Turning his darkened gaze toward her once more, his lips curled upward into a nasty grin. "This is a war I intend to win."

Too shocked to speak, Riza could only stare at the man. He truly believed what he was saying. To him, this was now gospel, and there would be no way to change this man's mind.

That voice in the back of her mind was screaming louder now, blocking out almost every rational thought in her mind. She just wanted to run, to get as far away from him as possible. She knew that if he suspected anything, he would not hesitate to kill her… right there and now. And what would that make the General? An accomplice? A traitor? Thomas would surely twist it in order to make it appear that way.

She was trapped, the restlessness she felt earlier returning with a vengeance.

She needed to go.

Go.

Go!

General Thomas was now standing at her side, clamping his massive, aged hand on her shoulder, pulling her from her internal struggle. Without looking down at her, he spoke, his voice low, "Remember what I said, Captain. This is war. And if your General does not comply, I will see to it that he never makes it to his seat at the top. That much I can guarantee." And with that, he released his iron grip, grabbed his cane and strode out of the office, leaving a speechless and petrified Captain in his wake.

Riza had waited until she was sure he was gone before finally allowing herself to breathe again. Sucking in a deep, shaky breath, she tried desperately to calm the storm that was raging inside of her. If whatever was happening to her didn't kill her… then they surely would. The military that she had devoted her life to would cast her aside without a second thought, because now they believed that active military personnel were involved.

And the General… They would cast him aside too. Maybe even kill him. Brand him a traitor, a conspirator. He'd be ruined…

Her heart would not stop its rapid beating, the pulses pounding in her ears. She felt a dread-induced sickness inside of her, threatening to make its presence known at any moment.

She needed to go. But she couldn't go back to the hospital. No. They'd find her there.

But she needed to find the General. That would be the first place he would go.

Despite not having a clear destination in mind, she knew that she needed to leave.

She was up now, her hand on the doorknob of the outer office's door. Taking another, panicked breath, she quickly pushed it open and hurried into the hall. However, she did not make it far.

Suddenly, a hand reached out and firmly grabbed her arm, snapping her back to reality. Letting out a yelp of surprise, she twisted around in confusion and jerked her arm out of the rigid grip, only to be met with the unrelenting, hardened stare of a familiar set of onyx eyes.

A/N: And so concludes Chapter 6. It appears that General Thomas has some sort of vendetta going. Also, now some tensions are going to rise and there will be some conflict.

And if it seemed as if Riza was OOC in any way (ex. Leaving even though she was most likely ordered not too), it was fully intended and you'll see why later…

Quick fun fact: The way Riza was walking is called "digitgrade," meaning that she was walking on her toes (sort of: balls of feet). Cats and dogs walk this way. Humans and bears, for example, walk plantigrade, while horses and cows walk unguligrade.