Chapter Eight: Iris
Iris flowers represent faith, hope, and wisdom. Depending on the color and region, it may also mean courage, admiration, eloquence, purity, and many more.
Fletcher was worried.
When the three military personnel came back from the woods, they came empty handed but with a firm expression in their faces. The air around them reeked of determination and he wasn't exactly sure if it was the kind that he would appreciate.
He kept his distance from them, making sure that he remained out of their sight. They hadn't been paying attention to him before. He didn't want them to start doing so anytime soon. There was something he had to do and catching the attention of the people who supposedly were law enforcer wouldn't help him at all, nor the people he wished to help.
The three went to see Mr. Lotus immediately. Fletcher carefully tailed them, making sure not to be seen. His heart thumped loudly against his chest. He had a bad feeling about what was going to happen here. Should he go and see Ives? He had a feeling that he should.
Where he stood was too far to listen to the four's conversation, but he felt his stomach clench when Mr. Lotus began pointing to the direction of Ives' house. Soon they were marching there and Fletcher followed, almost dutifully, while at the same time trying hard to keep himself calm. This whole thing spelled trouble, and it was something they couldn't afford right now. Not at these times.
He watched as they knocked at the door. Watched still as they began asking questions to him, and watched as he shook his head somewhat frantically, eyes darting around in panic. He simply stared as their voices rose – very clearly indicating an argument, though he couldn't catch any word being spoken – but was that Cadie's name Mr. Lotus shouted? – and it put him in a disadvantage, not knowing what exactly was going on. Then the blond man from the trio stepped forward and brandished a pair of cuffs from his pocket and attempted to cuff Ives. Struggle as he did, Ives was no match against the man's physical prowess and was soon dragged along to the city hall.
And all the while, Fletcher was staring with an open mouth and trembling fingers. Ives was taken. What should he do? Going to the three military personally would end up disaster, considering that they were most likely trained in combat, but he needed to help Ives somehow.
Ives' eyes strayed and met his gaze. His mouth moved, and Fletcher caught his message,
Warn Moss and Agnes.
Giving a quick nod, he turned and walked as fast as he could, trying hard not to arouse suspicion. It didn't take long for him to reach his house, and he sneaked inside his garage. Under the piles of junks was a short motorbike. Normally Ives would be the one to use it, but he had no problem driving it, himself.
It didn't take long for him to start the engine, and soon he was driving through the forest, eyes darting from the path in from of him to the compass he sloppily slapped to the bike's head, and back to the path again. He knew where Mimosa and Agnes would be at. He'd been there, too, a few times.
After all, he had been helping them all this time.
If he were to be completely honest with himself, Edward felt pretty helpless right now.
How could he not? He was bound, he couldn't use alchemy, and on top of that his automail leg was totally busted. In the dim light of the prison he once occupied he couldn't see just how bad the damage was, but now that he was blessed with light he could see that it was battered pitifully, chords jutting out of place every here and there and steel groaning whenever he tried to move it. Agnes had tried to forcefully move it, and the action made the metal prosthetic let out a suspicious sound as pain spiked up to Edward's thigh – clearly the nervous connection was busted, too.
Both Agnes and Mimosa agreed not to touch the automail.
Edward heaved a silent sigh of relief. Death by wrench was already guaranteed without the need of someone messing more with his metal limbs.
And besides the obvious mobility problem, his whole body felt like it wasn't listening to his orders. There was a familiar disconnected feeling that came after drugged sleep creeping in every inch of his skin, and Edward knew that even if he had no problem moving he would have a difficult time trying to flee.
Yep, Edward felt like crap alright.
He glanced to the still sleeping Kelly by his side. The jeep they were using to go wherever Mimosa and Agnes were planning to go jerked violently, and the girl hit her head on the seat. Edward winced. He wanted to try to get the girl more comfortable, somehow, but being bound really wasn't going to help his noble mission. If anything it would only hold him back.
He shifted his gaze away, out of the window. Trees whizzed past, and he wondered where he was taken, exactly.
Time ticked by, and the journey was spent in silence. It had to be hours, at least… or was it only minutes? His sense of time was off.
Edward knew how futile it was trying to pry Agnes or Mimosa of why they were doing this. They were absolutely tight-lipped, and no matter what he said they refused to give him any clue. Of course, there was no clue on where exactly the missing people were, and where he would end up in the end.
He had almost dozed off when the jeep came into a jerking halt. The sudden stop made Edward hit his head to the window, and he let out a soft curse of pain. Agnes and Mimosa soon dragged him out of the jeep, and he saw that the two ladies had brought him and Kelly to an abandoned warehouse, built in the middle of the forest.
Agnes hoisted him up on her back and grunted with exertion. "Why are you so heavy?" she grumbled to Edward.
Ed didn't bother hiding the amusement in his voice. "Automail. You can always let me go if you feel that I'm being too much of a trouble, you know."
"Not a chance. Your price will be worth it."
Edward frowned at Agnes' words, but said nothing in return.
They entered the abandoned warehouse, and Edward finally saw that it wasn't as abandoned as the look would say. Inside, the place was clearly well kept, with clean floor and working lamp. A few tables and chairs sat in the room, waiting for people to come and use them. Agnes dumped Edward on one of the chairs, groaning all the while. She then took a key from her pocket and opened his cuffs, pulling his hands behind the chair and bound him with the cuffs again. He would have fought, but the disconnected feeling in his limbs prevented him to actively fight the bounds. By his side, Mimosa put Kelly's prone body down gently. Edward found that he felt jealous, somehow.
"Why are you taking us here?" Edward asked cautiously.
"Someone wants to meet you," Mimosa answered with a small smile, looking apologetic and hopeful at the same time. "But there is still time before he gets here. You can just sleep and rest if you want."
Edward was determined to do the opposite of that. He forced himself awake, alert eyes darting everywhere. His automail leg gives sudden spikes of pain every now and then, and even though he would normally find it troublesome, he welcomed the additional help to keep himself awake.
Kelly stirred beside him, and he immediately looked over. "Kelly?" he called softly.
Kelly groaned and blinked owlishly. Her eyes found his immediately, and she called back, "Big Brother…?"
"How do you feel?" Edward asked gently, immediately putting Kelly's condition as the priority over his own, ignoring his own busted limb and pounding head.
"Sleepy." Kelly's eyes shut close again. "Head hurts."
"Maybe you should rest again," Edward told her, eyes darting around once more.
Kelly, however, stubbornly opened her eyes and pulled herself upright, pushing herself to Edward's side and leaned to him. He stared at her in confusion. "Kelly?"
"If you want to stay awake, I'll stay awake too," she slurred a bit, but the stubbornness was clear in her eyes. Edward couldn't help but chuckle and nod, letting her do just that. He was fairly certain that she'd fall asleep again soon, though.
Time passed without much incident. At some point, Kelly did fall asleep again, snoring softly against his side. Edward glanced at her and marveled about how innocent she looked. For a brief moment, she was a young Alphonse, and a pang of guilt gnawed at his gut. Even in a situation where he was clearly threatened, his guilt refused to leave him be. He bit his lower lip and looked around again, almost wishing that something happened just so he could get his mind off of the guilt.
A knock on the door echoed through the place. Edward looked up immediately, staring intently at the leaf of wood, senses on high alert and mind whirling and wondering how to get out of his restraints somehow, despite the fact that he already knew it was impossible. Agnes stood up and walked to the door, opening it, but the light spilling in from the gap made it impossible for Edward to see who was the guest. He couldn't hear what they were talking about since their voices were muffled by the leaves of the door, but their tone held a note of urgency, perhaps even panic. No matter how hard Edward strained his ears he couldn't hear what they were talking about.
The sound of people coming stopped the conversation, and a new voice – heavier, deeper, holding far more authority than the other two voices, although Edward couldn't help but notice that it didn't sound nearly as commanding or as reassuring as Colonel Mustang's – cut through the air. Soon the door was thrown open, and light spilled into the room with the generosity of a raging ocean. Edward let out a small grunt as he shut his eyes tight and moved his head away from the source of light. It didn't take long before the door was shut again and the room was dark once more. Edward opened his eyes and blinked a few times, cursing the temporary blindness as he saw spots dancing beneath a layer of blackness. Gradually, he adjusted into the darkness, and he turned back.
He automatically threw himself as far back as the measly seat allowed him. He couldn't help the instinctive drive to get away when he saw that a face had zoomed so close to his as if trying to get as much detail in as little time. He stared back at the cold black eyes that studied him with cold detachment and excitement at the same time, wondering what exactly this person was trying to do with him.
"A fine one you've got here," he spoke, the same deep voice that Edward had heard beyond the door earlier, tone laced with anticipation and accent heavy and familiar. "But highly unusual. Why the sudden change in the stock?"
"That one isn't for some thirsty aristocrat, Borya," Mimosa's voice was tight. "I was hoping you can help me get in touch with the higher-up in the government."
The man, Borya, straightened up and turned to Mimosa, and Edward was grateful for the distance. "You know as well as I do that I cannot do that. As much immunity I have for my services, I am still an outlaw."
"Well, that's the thing," Mimosa's tone changed, more desperately hopeful this time. "You see, this boy is Edward Elric. Surely you've heard of him. Maybe if you bring him to the higher-ups, you can appease them enough to let you go free, and also help bring my parents back."
"Edward Elric?" Borya turned back to Edward, but this time he kept from invading Edward's personal space. "The Fullmetal Alchemist, this boy?"
"You got a problem with that?" Edward snapped irritably.
The cold black eyes regarded him with an unreadable look before Borya gave a bellowing laugh. "He's got spunk," he commented. "It will be a pleasure to make him docile before presenting him to those people in Drachma."
A flurry of emotion washed over Edward at once. Drachma. So that was where Borya was from. The realization was laced with anger that he was obviously undermined (not that he could help it; the broken automail and the fact that he was tied up was out of his control), but there was a feeling of dread slipping into his mind when he heard Borya's plan to present him to Drachmans. What exactly was he planning to do with him? Was he going to be whisked away to an unfamiliar country all of a sudden?
He suppressed a groan when it all came together. The location, the track marks leading north. "Let me guess," he mumbled. "Those missing people and everything… you took them. This is all a human trafficking shit, and you're running the show."
Borya gave him a predatory grin. "Sharp one, aren't you?" he patted Edward's head as if he was complimenting a dog, making Edward snarl at him, which he laughed at. "Human trafficking is complicated business, but the money is worth it. After all, nearly all aristocrats in Drachma will happily have a taste of virgin maidens and little kids. They will be happy to have Amestrians kneeling before them like docile little pets, because it makes them feel powerful."
Edward's alarm went off immediately. Before he could help himself his eyes darted to the sleeping Kelly still leaning to him, and Borya followed his gaze.
"I understand your concern," he told the alchemist calmly. "Yes, the girl will share the same fate. Sold to the highest bidder who will happily use her as they see fit."
Edward whipped his head back at him, gritting his teeth as he seethed. He tugged on his restraints, not for the first time cursing his inability to get out of his situation.
Borya smiled. "Don't you worry too much. You, yourself, will have a different path. I will sell you to the government. I'm sure they'll be happy to have an advantage against Amestris, somehow."
"Do you really think Amestrian government will go to save me and risk war in the process?" Edward growled. "You said it yourself. I'm just a kid. There's no way such effort will be made just to retrieve one kid."
"But you aren't just a kid, are you?" once more Borya gave him a predatory grin. "You're the Fullmetal Alchemist. The Hero of the People. The alchemist prodigy, youngest one to ever pass the test to become a State Alchemist." He nodded. "Yes, I do think your government will go to such lengths to retrieve a child." With a satisfied smile, he turned and walked away.
Edward glowered, and he looked around for any other potential threat. A familiar figure caught his eyes, and the golden orbs widened as Fletcher Nash awkwardly shuffled his feet from his spot close to the wall. Their gazes interlocked, and for a moment hope swelled in his chest. He was acting sheriff for the town, wasn't he? Perhaps he can help him escape. Get back to town and get Alphonse.
Then Borya came to him and began giving him orders to stay put and help with the preparation to move Kelly and Edward to a new location. How Fletcher nodded to Borya was what truly crushed Edward. He was alone in this. He had no way out.
He bit his lip and wished that he had a way to escape this fate, somehow.
Alphonse crouched low in the thick bushes, hoping that it would provide enough cover from the keen eyes of the guards outside the abandoned warehouse he was spying on. A jeep was parked in front of it, and by the vehicle, a motorcycle. A bit far away from the warehouse was another jeep, bigger and dirtier.
Alphonse counted inwardly. Four guards. Once the reinforcement arrived they could take them down without much problem, and hopefully without much noise, too. It was unnecessary to draw the people in the warehouse's attention to them.
Soft rustles of the bushes behind him and the crunch of dead leaves made him turn with a creak, and immediately he felt relief rushing him when he saw Roy Mustang walking to him, followed by Hawkeye and Havoc. He let go of his fighting stance, which he had taken almost subconsciously when he felt threat coming. "Colonel, Lieutenants," he regarded politely.
Mustang nodded an acknowledgement. "Tell me what you've seen."
And so Alphonse did. He described how he had arrived moments before and spied on the building for a while. Moments after he had settled comfortably in the bushes staring at the building, he saw someone riding a motorbike coming, parking next to the already parked jeep, and revealed the identity of the rider as Fletcher Nash the acting-sheriff of Faeburn. Soon Agnes came out and both spoke in hushed tones to each other, before a newcomer came to the place, sauntering inside while the two goons he came with stayed out to stand guard.
Mustang grunted. "He must be pretty good if he can go inside so confidently without guards." He glanced around. "We need to infiltrate the warehouse and get Fullmetal back as soon as possible. Capture the mystery man. Also arrest whoever's involved. But first we need to incapacitate those two guards."
Hawkeye touched the guns she had in her holder lightly before she shook her head. "I can't do it without alerting anyone inside. The gunshot will be too loud. Someone need to go up there and render the guards unconscious."
"Sounds like a job for me," Havoc stretched his arms and moved to an alert crouch, eyeing the two guards, sizing them up.
"No, that won't be necessary," Mustang stopped him with a casual wave. At the questioning look he got, he held up his hands and showed them the gloves he was wearing. "Long distance alchemy works just as well. I should've done this from the start, sorry."
"Ah," Havoc blinked in understanding, and the crouch became more casual. "The usual 'Oxygen de Gentleman Strategy', Sir?"
Mustang smirked as Hawkeye's face became still and cold as a stone. "A modified one, though perhaps minus the 'gentleman' part."
Alphonse stared in curiosity as Mustang extended his hands slightly to the guards, looking like a hesitant magician wanting to show off his tricks but was reluctant to. Only, Alphonse knew this wasn't magic, and there was nothing hesitant or reluctant in Mustang's demeanor. His eyes glinted slightly, like a little child enjoying a game. The transmutation circles stitched to the gloves gave some jumping blue sparks. Immediately a slight breeze blew, and Mustang smirked to himself.
Alphonse turned his gaze to the two guards. He blinked a pair of imaginary eyelids when he saw the two guards frowning, and soon they were wheezing. It didn't take long before they dropped to their feet, struggling to breathe, and before long they were sprawled on the ground, unconscious, looking blue in the face.
"Um, Colonel?" Alphonse turned. "What did you do?"
To his surprise, Mustang cackled. "I cut off their oxygen supply using alchemy. They won't die, but they won't pose a threat to us at all, at least for now."
"You cut off their oxygen supply?" Havoc repeated with surprise in his tone. "Geez, Boss, you weren't kidding when you said it wasn't gentlemanly."
"W-why does it have to be gentlemanly…?"
Mustang grinned. "You see, Alphonse, alchemy can be used in a lot of ways, and for a lot of reason. Why, if you elevate the oxygen density around a specific person, they can get dizzy easily, and they might lose their balance. When the target is a woman, it's easy to simply rescue her pretty little head from hitting the pavement and care for her well-being, and an invitation for a drink won't be bad, either. That's a nice way to score a date."
"I would say this is hardly the time to teach someone as young as Alphonse to get a date, Sir," Hawkeye interjected, somehow sounding colder than usual. "The guards will not be down forever. Should we go inside now?"
Mustang coughed into his palm. "Um, yes. Everyone ready?" He was responded with nods from three directions. "Okay. Hawkeye, Havoc. You two will stick to me and make sure to have everyone detained. Hawkeye, I leave my back to you as usual."
"Sir," Hawkeye acknowledged with a sharp nod.
"Alphonse, I need you to go to Fullmetal's side and make sure he is well." Alphonse nodded at the order. "Protect the missing girl as well, if she is there. Since both she and Fullmetal were taken should be kept near one another. Ensure the safety of all three of you, not just Fullmetal and the girl."
"Got it," Alphonse nodded again.
"Havoc, when we go in later, I want you to be at front, looking for potential threat," Mustang ordered again. "You have keen eyes and I want to make use of that."
"Geez, just say it if you want to use me as a human shield," Havoc smiled wryly, but he nodded anyway.
"Alright, now. I say this is about time we go inside. Let's – "
Whatever Mustang wanted to say, he couldn't finish it. At that time, the door of the warehouse swung open. Their attention was drawn to the group of people coming out.
At the front was the last person Alphonse saw coming, the one bringing the two guards. His hair, grown long past his shoulders and tied nicely at the base of his neck, moved briskly along the wind. Behind him a man trailed with a bound short alchemist wriggling and shouting and practically trying to throw himself off the man's shoulder, and Alphonse recognized said man as Fletcher Nash. He balled his fist in anger. He had thought he could trust the man, but clearly he had been wrong.
Then came Mimosa. She was holding a sleeping girl in her arms, gently, as if she was afraid of getting the little girl hurt. Agnes trailed behind her, closing the door with a loud BAM, and turned back to walk alongside Mimosa.
"People," Mustang's hiss held a tone of urgency. "Change of plans. We need to charge ahead before they get away."
"I'll get Brother and Kelly," Alphonse quipped immediately.
"Then we will incapacitate the others," Hawkeye took her gun from the holster and removed the safety, sharp eyes darting to choose a target. Havoc followed her example.
They waited for the group reached a state of confusion upon finding the guards sprawled on the ground, and before the confusion changed into realization Mustang snapped his finger and had an explosion going off above their heads. The distraction proved to be effective, as the people scattered at once, panic seizing their figures.
Taking advantage of it, the three military personnel and the suit of armor sprang out, ready to take back what was theirs. Unfortunately for them, the man with long hair quickly regained his composure and started barking off orders to the three behind him, all while Kelly stirred from her sleep and Edward screamed to Fletcher to let go of me this instance goddammit and oh gosh you guys came quick untie me so I can beat up these people.
Alphonse didn't pay attention to whatever the long haired man said, but all of a sudden Fletcher dropped Edward to the ground like a sack of potatoes and turned, taking Agnes' hand in his and getting up on his motorbike, Agnes securely behind him, and started the engine. Hawkeye saw this and let loose a single gunshot.
And just like that, all hell broke loose.
A/N: this is so late im so sorry
Once again, sorry that this is so late. My own tardiness disgust me. Ew. I would've posted this sooner if not for a writer's block that haunted me for so long... but then I overcame it and wrote, like, four pages worth of story. Score one for me, haha. And I also blame school for giving me lots of howework and tests. Yes. Blaming school sounds great.
By the way, does anyone know that Roy's so called Oxygen de Gentleman Strategy is a thing that actually exists? I found it in FMA's wiki page. I just can't not put it in here.
Also, I think there will be maybe two more chapters left. This is just a loose estimation, though, but we are nearing the end of the story.
Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you can share your thoughts. Leave me a review, maybe? Hope you have a great day!