The Waters of Lethe
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA nor historical characters. I just like to play around in it's world and torture Ed for awhile
Author's note: post series and slightly AU. Some movie events will happen, but differently
Warnings: movie spoilers. Also violence and death, maybe sex.
Beta: Jedimasterwithapen
64. Operation Longinus begins (Betrieb Longinus fängt an)
The plane shook when first two, then four more of the one seat jets roared past and Alfons fought the controls to bring it back into trim. Once the machine was again level, he descended slowly and carefully through the clouds. He watched the instruments spin down the altitude and kept an eye open for his first view of land.
Then the clouds seemed to break apart and Alfons Heidreich beheld Shambala for the first time. He was conscious of a vague disappointment. This world looked distinctly underwhelming. Below him was endless meters of sand in every direction. Above the sand arced a blue sky full of the same puffy white clouds under a blazing white sun. Very pretty, but nothing to write home about.
Alfons looked at the plane's compass and noticed he was on a heading of due west. Far ahead were small black specks he realized were the one-seat jets. Because he didn't know where else to go, he decided to follow them.
He noticed the faint outline of buildings after a few minutes, and soon after they roared over a good-sized town. Ant-like dots below him were people looking up and he wondered if they knew about rockets, and if they spoke his language. Again, Alfons wondered what all the fuss about "Shambala" was about because so far it looked just like the world he'd left behind.
But before he knew it, the plane had left the town behind and he noticed the other planes were preparing to land. Alfons expertly tilted the control stick and came around in the maneuver known as "side slipping" to lose speed and altitude before he brought his machine down in a perfectly smooth landing. To his relief, the sand was packed hard enough to hold under the jets wheels.
He turned off the engine and listened to it tick quietly before he unlatched and pushed back the canopy over his seat. The heat of Shambala hit him like a mallet, and he gratefully soaked it all in like a sponge. It had been so cold in the factory he thought he would never be warm again. If Shamballa was this warm all the time, maybe he would never return to Germany.
He unbuckled his harness and decided he should release the Puppet from his as well. But he had barely taken a step out of his seat when armed men rushed up and demanded he come down. Alfons had already found out arguing with men holding guns wasn't a good idea, so he carefully backed down the footholds built into the plane's fuselage.
Alfon's feet had barely touched the sand when he was forced to his knees and his arms were bent behind his back and the wrists were tied together. He grunted in pain and protested, "Hey! Don't tie those ropes so tight!"
At least they set him down in the shade under the plane's wing and he watched the rest of the one seat jets, and then the cargo planes land. One came in at too sharp of an angle and it plowed an ungainly furrow in the sand, its nose crumpling flat by the time it came to a stop. But the seatbelts Alfons had mandated be installed in all the planes did their job and all the occupants survived without a scrape.
The Thule soldiers were well trained. They responded to orders bawled by their Grupenfuhrers and mustered quickly to unload the supplies and set up a command post under a tent in a matter of minutes. More tents mushroomed around that central one until a mass the size of a small town was erected, complete with rudimentary streets and a roughly rectangular parade ground.
Eventually, both Alfons and the Puppet were moved to one of the recently erected tents where they sat together in silence. Alfons glanced at him from the corners of his eyes, but when the other man didn't react, he glared openly at the killer of his friends.
"Hey! You!" Alfons snapped, but the Puppet never responded. Alfons sighed in exasperation and stretched his legs out to relieve the pins and needles feelings in them. He was bored, plus hungry and thirsty. He had to pee too and hoped someone would come by and untie him soon before he wet his pants.
But it wasn't until the sun was beginning to set before two soldiers did come and do just that. He was rubbing his sore wrists when handcuffs were snapped shut around them. But at least his arms were now in front of him. Plus, the guards did lead them to a newly dug latrine and Alfons sighed with the most intense relief.
After they returned to the tent, one of the soldiers gave Alfons a cup of lukewarm water and a bowl of steaming hot beef stew while his fellow fed the Puppet.
"Open your mouth!" was the first order, and the Puppet obediently opened his mouth. A spoonful of stew went in, and it was followed by a second order of "Chew!"
Fortunately, once started, the Puppet seemed to be able to continue eating solely on instinct, although his blank stare was somewhat unnerving. After another hour passed the air grew chillier as the sun lowered under the western horizon, and Alfons began to shiver. His teeth were chattering when Eckart finally came by to inspect her Puppet.
"Make sure the rocketeer is also kept warm!" she ordered and one of the soldiers gave him two blankets. Alfons took them gratefully, he folded one to sit on and hunched in the wooly warmth of the other.
As night drew on and the sky filled with stars, two cots were set up and Alfons huddled under the blankets on one of them. The Puppet lay facing him on another, and he finally closed those staring, barely-blinking eyes once ordered to go to sleep.
Alfons thought he would never get to sleep himself, but exhaustion got the better of him and he slumbered, if fitfully on the narrow cot.
That was how his first day in the more mundane than mysterious world of Shambala came to an end.
Operation Longinus had begun.
Alfons awoke with a jolt the next morning as early sunlight filtered in through an opening in the tent. A bugle was blaring and men were shouting.
"What's going on?" he asked one of the guards.
"We've got visitors, Herr Hedreich. A delegation has come from the nearby town." The soldier leaned over and tapped the Puppet on his shoulder and snapped, "Wake up!"
Those staring golden eyes snapped open, half closed, blinked a few times, then opened fully.
"Sit up!" The Puppet obeyed instantly as Hess entered the tent. He bent down and waved a hand in front of the blond man's face, and smiled when the figure didn't even flinch.
"Get him washed up and brush off his clothes. Feed him some breakfast, give him a pill, and then bring him to the western side of the camp. Eckart wants our guests to see what they are up against in case they plan to defy us."
Alfons tagged along behind the Puppet and his two guards. No one stopped him, and no one seemed to care. He made sure to stop a few feet behind Eckart, who held the Puppet loosely on his leash as the delegation from the town approached.
A group of about a dozen people was led by a pretty woman who had two-toned hair - mostly brunette - but with a fringe of pink bangs. She wore a plain white dress of simple lines underneath a dark blue cloak to keep her warm in the morning chill.
Walking beside her was one of the largest men Alfons had ever seen. Neatly dressed in brown pants and vest, and a white shirt, he was nearly bald, except for a small curl of blond hair on his forehead. Pink sparkles inexplicably flashed next to the man's head and Alfons supposed they were caused by the angle of the sun. That could be the only explanation for them.
The two parties stared at one another for a few heartbeats, and then Eckart opened her mouth to speak.
But she was cut off by the other woman who spoke in a clear voice that brooked no argument.
"My name is Rose Thomas, and I am the Holy Mother of Lior. You are trespassing on Amestrian territory and you must leave. Now."
Author's note #2: Sadly, this is the final chapter to be betaed by Jedimasterwithapen, because her real life has gotten in the way. That is always more important then fictional ife, so I'll be delving back into the beta reader pool on .