Chapter 5: Location: Unknown

An old mental medical facility stood in the middle of a silent clearing in the woods. The facility was set deep in the forest by the north-eastern border of Amestris and a few miles south-east of Yoxeqa. The facility was abandoned nearly forty years ago and was all but forgotten, except by the select few who used it for their purposes.

Deep in the basement of the facility, both Edward and Mustang sat slumped against one wall, unconscious. Their coats were missing, leaving them in only their clothes and exposed to the chilly air that hung in the basement.

When Edward woke up, the first thing he heard was the sound of a chain rattling as he tried to move his arms. A block of wood, with two holes surrounding his wrists, prevented him from clapping.

He inwardly groaned. Well, they're well informed.

Edward could see nothing in the permeating darkness of the cell. However, he could feel the wood of the cuffs that circled his wrists. The cuff was attached to the wall by a short chain, with no more than a foot of slack. The chain was set low enough in the wall that Edward could slightly bend his elbows and sit easily on the floor, and he would not be able to move far even if he stood.

Beside Edward, Mustang was similarly chained to the wall, except his cuffs were metal and clamped around each wrist. The cuffs were connected by a single link, which pulled his wrists together above his head. Mustang remained unconscious.

Edward shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, as he waited, and waited, still unaware of Mustang's presence.

About an hour later, but what seemed like forever to the antsy teen, Mustang began to stir. The sound from beside him caused the young alchemist to jump. Much to his chagrin, his heart rate picked up, fluttering for a moment before settling back down to a more or less normal pace.

Mustang slowly pulled himself out of unconsciousness. He felt drowsy from the tranquilizers still running through his system, and he could feel a bruise forming from where he had been punched. Mustang blinked multiple times if only to convince himself his eyes were actually open.

Mustang heard Edward as he shifted, and Edward thought it might be Mustang beside him but did not want to call out until he was sure.

"Fullmetal?" Mustang whispered.

Mustang had no reservations about checking to make sure that the sound he heard had come from Edward.

"Mustang? So that was you?"

Mustang sighed in relief. I was worried they had separated us.

"Yes, Fullmetal, it's me."

Edward merely grunted and then went silent.

Although Mustang was glad that their captors had not separated them, it also worried him. Now, both alchemists would be able to know how the other was doing, which could be both a blessing and a curse.

Unbeknownst to the two, just outside the cell, Damien leaned against the door. He was listening intently. A small grin spread across his face as he heard the two alchemists within talk and then grow silent.

Damien was the very man the supplier called to warn the rebels about the two State Alchemists, and he was the same man, with light-colored hair, who brought the three youths to the basement of the supplier. Despite this, the citizens did not know the link between the recently returned kidnapped youths and the rebel group because the youths themselves were unaware of the connection. The military guessed at the connection, but they had yet to find substantial evidence of the link due to the supplier's silence.

Damien had no intention of giving the alchemists any information regarding his involvement with the kidnapped youths or his connection to the supplier, even if they guessed it. A derisive pleasure welled-up at keeping the two alchemists in the dark, and it filled him with a vague sense of satisfaction.

This just might be quite a bit of fun.

The thought stoked his ego.

Inside the cell, Mustang began to prepare himself mentally, and Edward shifted yet again.

"Well, we just might have found the rebels."

Mustang looked in Edward's direction, even though he could not see him. "Maybe. Edward, you cannot say anything to them, rebels or not."

Edward grunted, "I know, I wasn't born yesterday."

Mustang rolled his eyes but chose to ignore Edward's tone. He felt that he was becoming much more adept at not jumping at Edward's taunts and attitude.

It was at that moment that Damien chose to enter the cell. Damien opened the door and stood there for a moment, allowing the light from outside to wash into the cell. Edward and Mustang looked worse for wear. The light revealed their rumpled clothing, wane faces, and the darkening bruise across Mustang's temple.

The light silhouetted Damien's form, but due to the darkness within the cell, the two alchemists could still not see Damien's features clearly, although they could now see each other.

Both Alchemists were along the right-side wall. Edward was closest to the door, his left arm partially blocking his sight of the door. There was just enough room for the door to open and maybe one more person to sit between Edward and the door. Mustang was to Edward's right, farthest from the door, and within a few feet of the back wall. Mustang noted that there were only about one and a half meters* between his feet and the opposite wall.

The cell appeared to be an old janitor's closet. The walls were painted a dark grey, and rust stains indicated where things used to hang along the walls, but all the shelving and hooks had long since been removed. A drain pipe could be seen in the back left corner, and just above it, a spigot jutted out from the wall.

Damien stalked into the room.

Edward pulled at his restraints, "where are we, you bastard?"

"Well, you weren't quite going the right way to find us. So, we decided to help you out a little bit," Damien taunted coolly.

"We were going in one direction! That could mean anything!" Edward growled.

Mustang blinked at Edward. His head was still a little fuzzy, but he was sure that he had just told Edward not to say anything to their captors. He considered telling Edward to be quiet for the briefest moment, but saying anything could be just a detrimental as saying nothing at all now that it has started. So, Mustang waited for the moment.

Damien nodded at Edward's words, "True."

Edward strained against the restraints again and snarled, "what do you want, and who are you anyway?"

The man only looked at Edward in response, but his gaze shifted to Mustang for a moment, and Mustang saw the disdain in the man's eyes.

Mustang's jaw twitched. Heh, they might just be the rebels. It doesn't make much sense for it to be anyone else. Who else gives that kind of look toward someone like me, an officer in the Amestrian military and the Hero of Ishval?

Damien spread his arms out wide. "The government is far from righteous. We want to make a glorious revolution." A small, smug smile settled on Damien's face as he looked down on the two alchemists.

"So, you are with the rebels!" Edward sneered, "But, talking about righteousness and revolutions is rich coming from someone who works with human traffickers." Edward was seething, "You are far from righteous yourself."

"Human trafficking, whatever do you mean?" Damien feigned ignorance with a look of surprise.

Edward paused, but from his look, both Mustang and Damien could tell Edward did not believe in the man's innocence.

"Wartime permits even the most atrocious of actions. It allows one to justify all of their actions." Damien turned his attention once again to Mustang, "something you know well, no, Mustang? Or should I call you the Flame Alchemist, Hero of Ishval?"

Mustang remained silent and glared but then turned to Edward. He made a calculated decision, "Don't engage him, Fullmetal," he murmured. From Mustang's perspective, it seemed as though the man were taunting them. Everything about Damien seemed purposeful to Mustang like he had a goal in mind. Mustang's assessment was what made his decision as to whether he should say something to Edward or not. Although Mustang typically would not say such a thing in front of a captor, in this situation, it seemed as though it would not make a difference, and he was right.

Damien merely shook his head, the faintest line of a smirk around the corners of his mouth, and walked out the door, closing it behind him and leaving the two alchemists in darkness once more.

After leaving the two alchemists, Damien walked outside. Stars dotted the sky. The rebels had brought the two alchemists to the base and to him as the sun had begun to set. The sunset had been a glorious red. Damien saw it as a good omen for their success. The call from the supplier had irritated him. He expected the military to act, but for the supplier to accuse him of anything was going too far in Damien's mind.

After the capture of the two alchemists, Damien had stood sentinel at the door, waiting for them to wake up. Now, though, the sun would rise soon, and a new day would start.

Damien glanced behind him. The rebels slept, except the two on guard. The rebels truly wanted to make the nation of Amestris a better place. Too many wars had ravaged their lands, and far too many people had died. They however, trusted Damien, who came to them as a unifying and directing force at one of their own's request.

However, Damien only joined the rebels for the chaos that would ensue from their endeavor, and he enjoyed manipulating them like puppets on a string. Damien smiled and took in the darkness around him.

They justify their violence with the violence they have seen. They justify violence on others, others not even involved in their crusade or with their enemy, so that they can have a better future. Oh, how intriguing the whole thing is. How much more so will they justify violence on those who do align themselves with their enemy?

Damien's mind turned to the two captured alchemists.

I cannot wait to find out.

Back inside the cell, Mustang and Edward tried to make sense of the brief encounter.

"What was his deal?"

Mustang gave Edward a sidelong glance, "he's one of the people who have taken us captive."

"No, duh," Edward rolled his eyes.

Mustang looked around the room, even though he could not see anything, "We're probably in a basement given the lack of windows in here and outside the door. The cement and constant chill also suggest a basement."

Edward grunted and rolled his eyes again, "oh, who's the smart Colonel?"

A vein popped in Mustang's temple, "Fullmetal, this is not the time!"

Edward looked away from Mustang, knowing full well it was not the time, but not really finding it in himself to care.

Inwardly, Edward was fuming at their predicament.

I'm stuck here with him. First, I was stuck on the mission with him, and now I'm really stuck in this dingy, dark hole in the wall cell. Al and I should be out trying to find a way to get our bodies back, not stuck here miles apart and doing nothing!

Mustang, on the other hand, was frustrated. He would have pinched the bridge of his nose if he could have.

Mustang sighed, Stubborn and impulsive….

"But weren't we the same when we were his age?" Hughes's voice echoed through Mustang's mind.

After a moment, Edward shifted again, and Mustang turned his head, listening.

"So, what are we gonna do to get out of this one, oh big and useless leader?"

Mustang's eye twitched, "really now?" Mustang took a deep breath, "well, from the looks of it, they have your wrists in a block. You won't be able to use alchemy like that, right?"

"No, duh."

"I was checking Fullmetal. You can do alchemy without clapping, after all."

"Yeah, even like this or without my arm, I could do alchemy if I had something to draw the circle. That is how I did alchemy originally."

Edward's words were heavy with sarcasm, and Mustang reminded himself again to remain calm and act like an adult rather than rise to Edward's goading.

"I know that. I need chalk, too, without my gloves."

"Oh, you can actually do alchemy without them? I thought you were useless without your gloves since you can't use alchemy when it is wet or when it's raining."

Mustang glared, "yes, as a matter of fact, I can do other alchemy. My alchemy teacher taught me all the basics, like anyone else." Mustang continued, although he did not quite know why, "My master, he didn't want to teach me flame alchemy at first, but I persisted."

Edward was silent for a moment, thoughtful, "why?"

"Because flame alchemy is dangerous. You've heard the stories of Ishval," Mustang's voice ended in a near whisper.

Edward twitched. He might have taunted the Colonel on any other day, but he knew concerning this matter, he should tread lightly. Even Edward had his demons, and that Mustang had them too, was one of the few reasons Edward grudgingly trusted Mustang, even if he was loath to show any sign of it.

Both alchemists fell into an awkward silence, and hours passed. Edward eventually fell asleep, but Mustang sat silently, his mind full of images from the past.

When the door banged open, Edward jerked out of his light slumber and glowered at the intruder. Mustang did not twitch but watched with cool, calculating eyes. Only the briefest waver in the form of a blink showed he was surprised not to see the tall light-haired man from earlier.

We never did get his name, Mustang mused.

The new man was short and square-ish. He was shorter than Mustang and maybe only a head taller than Edward. A gun rested on his hip, and from the way he walked while fiddling with the holster, Mustang could tell he was neither used to carrying the weapon nor adept at using the gun. This in of itself was a cause for concern.

"Do not engage," Mustang hissed low enough for the man at the door not to hear.

Edward heard him but continued to look at the new arrival.

The man flicked a switch on the outside of the door, and a light above them flickered to life. Both alchemists blinked in the sudden light. The man began to speak as their eyes adjusted. His face was smug and condescending.

"What are two state alchemists doing up north, here? The government must either be taking us seriously or not at all, considering you don't seem to have any backup."

Mustang kept his face neutral, but Edward scowled at the man's words.

The idiot just might give us the information we need. Mustang inwardly grinned.

"What do you want keeping us locked up in some basement closet?" Edward snapped at the man, and Mustang inwardly groaned.

The man merely smiled and jeered, "oh, think you're so smart figuring that out?"

"No, you…"

Mustang's eyes widened as he listened to Edward. What is he thinking? I told him not to engage!

"Wait… Full…"

"…told us yourself just now."

Mustang grimaced. Is he trying to rile him? We need to do this the smart way!

The man stared at Edward, and his face turned purple as he stormed over to the two alchemists.

I told Fullmetal not to engage! I can't keep reminding him when they are here. It will only make things worse!

The man's fist lashed out at the teen. At the same time, Mustang gripped the chain above him to lift and support his weight, and using his right leg for leverage and balance, kicked out with his left leg. He also managed to give himself more distance by using his right leg to pull himself farther from the wall, stretching his arms and back. The man's knee was the only vulnerable spot he could reach at his current angle.

Glad I'm still in shape despite the desk job!

Mustang's kick just barely connected with the man's knee, and the man fell forward, his fist missing Edward's face by inches. Unfortunately, he landed on the teen's legs. Edward grunted as the man rolled off, clutching his knee.

When the man stood, Mustang knew the man was going to take out his anger on him now, and that was exactly what he wanted.

As the man prepared to punch Mustang, Mustang swept his leg out once more, tripping the man again. Although Mustang would have preferred not to incite the man further, he was already obviously angry, and Mustang wanted to keep the man's focus on him.

"You have awful form," Mustang goaded.

Edward began to protest, but Mustang cut him off, "be quiet, Henry."

Edward looked at Mustang for a brief moment. He understood the message Mustang meant to send by using his code name, despite their cover already being compromised. Edward was to follow orders as both a Major to a commanding officer, but also as an apprentice toward their master. Yet, Edward's stubborn streak won out in the end.

As if, I'm just going to sit here, bastard!

"They know, I'm not Henry."

By this time, the mas was standing again, and at Edward's words, he laughed. All the while, an angry sneer still dominated his face. The laughter came more from annoyance, and what he considered a futile attempt from Mustang to control the situation.

Do neither of these alchemists realizes their situation?

Edward tried to draw the man's attention, "Yo, you! You were talking to…"

Mustang interrupted, "You can't even beat me while I'm sitting and chained to a wall."

The man turned to face Mustang once again. He was not in the mood to be taunted by two captives who should, in his opinion, be much more intimidated due to their vulnerable position than they were acting. You're far too haughty, Flame.

Mustang was again sitting on the floor, looking up at the man, and the man only briefly looked at Mustang before he stomped down on Mustang's ankle, grinding his heel into the joint. While Mustang did grimace, he managed to suppress the yell that clawed at the inside of his throat.

"You all think you're so brave and good, but what you did in Ishval was horrendous, and you, along with all the others, didn't believe the soldier who claimed to know nothing of the shooting of that little girl."

"No," the man continued, "you all went along like good little pups and slaughtered innocent people."

The man twisted his foot more. Mustang tried to pull his foot out from under the man, but he had shifted his weight so that most of it was pinning Mustang's ankle. As the man's anger built, he also could not bear to look at either a moment longer and swiftly turning, stormed out of the cell.

Mustang winced and pulled himself back up into a more comfortable sitting position with his back against the wall. Mustang rolled his shoulders as much as he could with his wrists restrained above him. After kicking at the man, he had wound up in a slouched position, and he was only now able to correct his posture.

Edward hissed at Mustang, "What the hell was that about? You were the one who told me not to engage them!"

Mustang rolled his eyes and shrugged but then turned to look Edward in the eye. It was the first time since their capture that they had had any light while alone. The man had not turned out the light after leaving.

"Fullmetal, you need to remain calm and focused. You need to remain above the situation and keep a clear mind. I know you know this is not a game, but you cannot provoke the enemy like that."

Edward began to protest, but Mustang cut him off. "You need to stop talking to them when they come in. We're in a vulnerable position, and we need to assess it clearly and take any chances we can get for information. We need that information if we are going to escape."

"That guy," Mustang pointed with his chin toward the door, "is not experienced and far too angry. He would be a great source of information if we could remain calm and use the situation to our advantage!"

"Oh, so you're going to blame me because you couldn't get your precious information? Well, I have my own way of getting things done!"

"No!" Mustang growled but cut himself off.

Mustang took a deep breath, "I'm just saying we need to be more coordinated. We cannot go off on our own. This is supposed to be a coordinated effort. A team effort."

"I never wanted to be on a team with you!"

Mustang sighed, "I didn't exactly want to team up with you on a mission either, brat."

"Who are you calling so short he could drown in a droplet of water!"

Mustang snorted, "You!"

Edward jerked at the restraints while snarling insults at Mustang.

Mustang shook his head while suppressing a smile, somethings never change.

Less than half an hour later, Damien returned to the cell.

"You seem to have angered one of my little friends." Damien strolled into the cell-like he owned the world, a bucket in one hand, which he set down as he stood in front of the two alchemists.

"Well, if he weren't such an idiot…."

"Fullmetal!"

Both Edward and Damien turned to Mustang. Edward glared, and Damien smiled. Damien turned to Mustang and stood in front of him.

"Well, I was talking to you only anyway."

Damien kicked out, catching Mustang in the stomach. Mustang had no time to defend himself. Unlike before, where Mustang was able to unbalance the other man despite sitting on the floor, Damien was obviously more skilled. Due to Damien's unencumbered position, he was able to move too quickly for Mustang. So, even though Damien stood where Mustang could easily kick the man's shins, he was unable to do so, and Damien's kick winded him.

Mustang gasped for a moment, his vision tunneled, and that was all the time it took for Damien to land another kick, this one to Mustang's chest and driving him into the wall. Mustang felt something bend but not break.

Edward's face flushed with anger.

"You know, you know our names, but we don't know yours." Edward wanted to distract the man, even if only for a moment.

Be thankful I'm not goading him, Colonel Bastard, but only asking a question. I hope this is good enough for you!

Mustang panted against the pain in his chest.

Damien paused, only glancing at Edward out of the corner of his eye, but turned back to Mustang and gave him a long look. The corner of his mouth ticked up in a small smile, and his eyes narrowed haughtily before he answered.

"Damien, you may refer to me as Damien."

Both alchemists were startled by the ready answer, and Damien took advantage of the distraction.

He kicked on more time, this one meeting the side of Mustang's head, and Mustang slumped against the chains, his chin at his chest.

Damien stood in front of the unconscious alchemist.

Edward gapped, "Leave him alone!"

When Mustang went slack, clearly dazed, something in Edward's chest fluttered, and his head jerked quickly between Damien and Mustang. Edward pulled at his restraints as he attempted to stand.

Damien ignored Edward, and after picking up the bucket, splashed the cold water on Mustang. Mustang's head cleared, and he jerked forward, sputtering.

"Well, now, can't have you missing my warning now, can we?" Damien commented blithely. Then he knelt, looking both alchemists in the eyes, and sneered, "Keep the snarky comments to yourselves."

Damien looked at both captives, then turned, and without acknowledging either, walked out of the room, taking the bucket with him but left the light on.

Mustang turned to Edward once Damien was gone.

"Don't worry. We'll get out of this."

"How? How do you know?!" Edward stared incredulously at Mustang.

Water dripped from Mustang's hair, and he shivered involuntarily, "Look, Edward, I told Hawkeye I would report once we reached Yoxeqa. Remember, I gave us four days after leaving Egmuridcu. Since the rumors are mostly from Yoxeqa, the plan was for me to call her on an outside line as a presumed lover so that we could have a check-in as soon as we reached the city.

"We might not be exactly sure how long we've been here, but if we don't report within twenty-four hours of the timeframe in which I told Hawkeye I would call, she'll take it up with the superiors. They might still delay due to the nature of our mission. However, at least there will be paperwork in place showing that Hawkeye initiated and proposed a search. They won't wait long anyway since they were going to send up the second group after we'd been in Yoxeqa a few days."

Edward scoffed, "If they don't know where we are, then it won't help any. He said we were going the wrong way!"

"You can't trust what he says, Edward. I would expect you of all people not to believe him."

"I don't!" Edward yelled, his voice cracking slightly. "Stop being all technical. It's ticking me off!"

Mustang started, and then his eyes narrowed.

He must feel afraid. No, not quite afraid, but he definitely must feel some sense of insecurity. Anyone would, especially if this sort of thing happened on their first mission.

Edward's eyes, slightly widened and pupils slightly dilated, meet Mustang's, "You keep getting hurt because you keep distracting them after I say something!"

"We're more or less prisoners of some rebel or anti-government group, Edward. They aren't going to be hospitable."

"I know!" Edward gasped, "but I wasn't," he paused. "I wasn't expecting this," he whispered. Then a glare flashed in his eyes, "You kept taunting them!"

"No more than you," Mustang leveled a stern look at Edward.

Mustang was not sure what to feel or say. I'm not so sure if "going back to the mission" and treating him like the apprentice is the right thing to do here. I need to treat him like a soldier, but damn this is getting hard.

"Edward, you don't want to be treated like a child, so I won't do you the disservice of treating you as such. You are a soldier now, and you need to act like one. No matter what happens, you need to say nothing of the mission, and you should avoid talking to them entirely. Asking them about themselves is asking for trouble if you don't go about it the right way. We cannot compromise the mission or others. You know what I mean."

Edward began to protest, but Mustang cut him off.

"You haven't really said anything so far, but goading them is not going to help. You may inadvertently give something away. You need to remain quiet and ignore them."

Edward nodded at Mustang's words.

"So far, they haven't done much, and mostly because of how we respond to them. However, if they torture you, remember this, if they are any good, they will always get you to talk. The question is, what will you say? So, recite the periodic table if you have to. You are the Fullmetal alchemist, and you have the guts to embody that name. Live up to it."

Mustang watched the trepidation leave Edward's eyes, and determination replaced it. Edward swelled at the end of Mustang's little pep talk.

Mustang's thoughts returned to the not-so-distant past. He'd seen something similar in Edward's eyes only about two years ago. He'd seen the miserable dejection and hopelessness leave those same eyes when he suggested Edward use the military's resources to try to help restore his and his brother's bodies. He saw the same spark then that he saw in Edward's eyes now.

Edward grinned, hell, yeah.

Mustang smiled and smirked. The kid will be okay.

About 24 hours later…

Hawkeye paced the office.

Mustang was due to call today, and that is with the one-day buffer!

Hawkeye took a deep breath. He's more than capable, and so is Edward. I'm worrying too much. I still have some time. If I don't hear from them by tomorrow, I'll call the general to let them know they're 24 hours late.

As she settled into her work for the day, the constant nagging in the back of her mind distracted her. Every so often, Hawkeye would look at the clock, her toe tapping, her pen stilled, as she waited and waited for the phone to ring.

The rest of the team looked on in worry, casting occasional glances her way, keeping busy, and also staying out of the way of the gun-toting First Lieutenant.

By the end of the day, the tension in the room was palatable, and the goodbyes were quiet as Hawkeye sat, eyes trained on the phone.

Something was wrong with those orders, and even though they found nothing to indicate the trafficker knew of their identities, it doesn't mean he didn't. Why hasn't he called yet?

A worried First-Lieutenant went home for the night. The sun rose once more, and Hawkeye began her plan to alert the military. They would give a little time between the missing person's report and officially reporting them Missing-in-action.

I hope no one tries to declare them AWOL. We need to find them! This isn't them running away, something must have happened, and we're just going to have to fix it.

Yay! I was able to introduce my two antagonist OC's. Note I did not say villain (this is going to be so much fun). They play a significant role in this story, and I am so excited to hear what you think of them. Although I created Mangele in my last story, these two are really important, so any feedback on characterization as the story progresses would be very much appreciated.

*Just in case: One and a half meters is almost 5 feet (4.92126) or something like that.

Thanks for reading!