Chapter 9: Work of the Devil...

"Truly disgusting, that creature Shou Tucker."

Yor Briar watched as her mentor and commander continued to prune the hedges with a large pair of shears. She had been invited back to the Garden Estate earlier this morning, and she always found it so peaceful here. The estate was sixteen miles outside the outskirts of East City, and it had only taken a short car ride to get to the front gate. Of course, it had been one of the Garden's own cars that had picked Yor up, as she had not enough money to own one, and it was just far more simple for the organization to send a car to pick up their agents for discussion. Less likely to possibly give their headquarters location away to a random taxi driver.

The man in front of her, "Shopkeeper", always was so courteous to his subordinates. His dark brown skin was engulfed in long white hair, all leading up to his little bowler hat. He had been the man who had first noticed her talents a decade and a half earlier, and had sough to help her grow within her talents. He had asked her to come and discuss something, likely the success of her last mission, but when she had arrived his mind was on a discovery that had occurred back in East City while she had taken the afternoon drive to the Estate.

"For a man to transform and mutilate one's own daughter, despicable," he continued to prune the branches of one his beloved shrubs, that crissed and crossed around the maze around this home. Yor couldn't help but agree with him. For a man to treat a little girl like nothing more than an animal. It was despicable. There was part of her that wished to rush back and stab the creature in a human body.

...but-

"It is good the government has discovered his crimes," the voice of the shopkeeper seemed almost relived. Yor mostly understood why, killing a state alchemist would be too high profile to be done easily, especially with how many contracts tended to come from the government itself. Speaking of which.

"Sir, you wished to speak with me about my last mission," she finally spoke up. She did not like to seem rude, but she did want to find out the specifics of the call. It was quite unusual for her to be called, it had almost been six months since their last meeting, "I killed Karl Fritz as requested. I completed a standard clean up of the scene," she remembered washing away all her prints and any trace of her presence at the sight of the assassination of the Blue Group's chief fund raiser, "Did I miss something. Was there a secondary targ-"

"No, no," the Shopkeeper laughed, almost like a bird song. All the while, he continued to to prune off another dead branch from the hedgerow he had been working on, that winding twisting thing along this garden path, "You completed that mission perfectly Yor, as always. I was just wondering more about you."

"Me?"

"Yes, Yor, how is everything going for you?" He asked, "How has things been outside of work?"

"Well," Yor thought for a moment about the question, "I have maintained my cover position at East City headquarters without any questions, I think I am generally well like, though at the moment I think the Colonel may be frustrated with me. I seem to have said something that made him upset."

"Unfortunate, but that can happen."

"I have also have continued to keep up with my little brother," she laughed, rubbing the back of her head, "He seems to be doing very well in Central, but he is so busy now in Central Intelligence. I heard they made him a 2nd Lieutenant," she felt her mouth curl into a smile, "I'm so proud of how well he is doing."

"Good to hear," the shopkeeper said. And for a few minutes, a silence hung in the air. The shopkeeper continued to prune the branches, continuing to cut away dead and dying wood, and laying it on the path beside him. And Yor stood there, silent.

"Is that it?"

"...," Yor blinked, "Yes, that's about it."

"...," The Shopkeeper stopped, and then set down his shears. He then walked up to Yor, and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Yor my dear, why do we kill people?"

"To protect the peace of the world," Yor said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Because it was, that was what the Garden had drilled into her since she had been brought in all those years ago. She saw the Shopkeeper nod at that, but he then turned around, and picked up one of the dead branches, and showed it to her.

"What do you see?" he asked. Yor looked down on it, then answered.

"A dead branch."

"Look more closely," the shopkeepers hand moved over to one of the tiny off shoots of the branch, and at the tiny leaves on it, "This branch was not completely dead, there was a chance that it might grow again," Yor could see the specks of green on some of the little foliage, "But, I still cut it off the bush, why?"

Yor shook her head quickly, wanting to hear what the Shopkeeper had to say.

"Because, could a random spark hit this branch, then it would catch fire too quickly. That fire would have enough fuel to grow, and then," he gestured his hand over the entire hedgerow, "it would be enough to possibly kill the entire plant," he tossed the branch back down onto the path behind him, "So, I removed the detritus from the bush, and robbed that spark natural kindling."

Yor nodded.

"But you see, I don't cut more than is necessary," he pointed to one edge of the hedgerow, which began to turn and twist far to the right, "See there, the bush has not grown in a straight line, and instead is growing on it's own," the bush twisted along, still mostly along the path, but it twisted every little bit, causing it to appear to have small bumps, "Nature, growing on it's own certain, in whatever way it will most naturally do so," he was smiling more widely now, "That is how I raise this garden. I trim away the detritus, I keep the plants from overwhelming one another or becoming so clustered that they will choke each other, but I let them grow. I don't attempt to cull them into some kind of perfectly symmetrical, precisely placed exhibit. I let them grow, because that is what nature does."

"And isn't it beautiful," and Yor had to agree. The garden of the estate was magnificent. While there were clearly plants that had been placed by a human hand, they were placed in such a way that if one didn't understand natural climate, it would appear that they had been their as naturally as possible, with huge beds of dozens of flowers having spread out from a likely original set somewhere inside the mass of foliage. Trees seemed more like they were part of an ancient forest, not a human maintained garden.

"It is sir."

"Well, our assassinations, are like cutting out the branches that would cause damage to the plants," he waved his hand down at the culled branches, "sparks are a regular occurrence in nature, and while you can attempt to stop them, ultimately, you can't. And if a spark has a large amount of detritus as fuel, it can destroy a whole forest."

"To use a recent example, the Ishvalan conflict," Yor nodded, remembering hearing about it even though she never went into the desert, "The shooting that sparked the battles that caused an eight year war, terrorist attacks in towns like Resembool, and the eventual destruction of Ishval itself," Yor nodded, "That was a spark. We probably couldn't have stopped that shooting."

Yor felt herself blink. If they couldn't stop the shoo-

"But we could have made the conflict less damaging overall,," the Shopkeeper shook his head, "If we had been more careful, we could have just been able to remove more of the kindling," he twitched his fingers, "many priests of Ishvala had already been calling for a resumption of the conflict before the shooting, and they were given the righteous anger they needed to demagogue their way into starting the war," he grabbed up one of the branches he previously cut off, and tossed into a bin that held a lot of the garden waste, "Poison might have lowered the temperature. They all died anyway in battle."

He continued to grab up more branches, "A mayor of a nearby town called Ralston closed down it's Ishvalan temple after a riot. He was trying to use the anger at the disruptions to assist winning his next election. He gave a target to Ishvalan insurgents, and so angered many of the Ishvalan minority inside his town that they gave aid to a massive bomb that killed three hundred, including the mayor himself, not six weeks after the closing of the temple, and so outraged the country that all opposition to sending the military in disappeared," the branch was in the bin, "A knife for a scapegoat might have cooled enough heads to reveal the plot, and keep thousands alive."

A third branch was in his hands, and he tossed it into the bin, "An arrogant general named Fessler ordered the killing of twenty prisoners of war right when it looked like peace talks might have caused a ceasefire. He would eventually pay for it, with a stray bullet catching him during the last days of the war," there was almost more disgust there than on the previous two, "if the shot had come earlier, the alchemists might have never been forced to march."

"Wars are not calculated things, they are built on kindling of negative human interaction," the Shopkeeper was finished with all the branches, which were now piled into the bin itself, "It was not some plan by some evil conspiracy that allowed a war that nearly exterminated the whole of Ishval. It was allowing so much kindling to build up that the people on both sides felt they had to keep fighting," he shook his head, "And because of that kindling, the forest that was Ishval burned away."

"And it was a tragedy, because Ishval was beautiful," the Shopkeeper looked at her with his distinctive red eyes, "My homeland was different, not as green as I like to live, but magnificent in it's own right. The songs of Ishvala carrying over the dunes, the sandstone sculptures shading the children during the midday sun, the joy of spring water bursting through sand stone by the strength of the moon," he smiled happily, lost in his thoughts, "And it is gone now, the temples, the priests, the people. There are survivors, but Ishval as I grew up in has burned away," he shook his head, and Yor could see tears in his eyes.

"I never realized how much I loved Ishval until it was gone," tears were now flowing down his face, "I didn't have enough love for it, and because of that the world burned."

His smile was sad as he looked Yor in her eyes, "That is why I worry about you Yor," he placed a hand on her shoulder, "You are a brilliant assassin, perhaps the best to have ever been grown in the Garden," he shook his head, "But I worry...that you don't love the world enough sometimes. You seem to simply be content to let the world pass you by, rather than to take in the world's beauty."

"I think it's important that you make some more connections in your life. To find that beauty in this world, and grab a hold of it," Yor suddenly realized that tears had welled up in her own eyes, and were flowing down her own cheeks, "With that connection to the world, you will see why we do what we do, and be prepared to reach your true potential."

"...," Yor tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She slid her arms up around the Shopkeeper's chest, and he returned by pulling his arms around her shoulders. She had never heard her master speak about his Ishvalan heritage before, and to hear the loss in his voice had been...affecting. They stood there for a moment, before they let go, and he looked down at the watch on his wrist.

"Look at the time," he laughed, "It appears it is getting late. You should probably get back to your home."

"Of course," she nodded, "I will try and make more connections Shopkeeper."

The older man smiled and nodded at that. He waved as she left, and she waved back. As she left his sight, passing by the small chateau that he resided in on the sprawling estate, she thought to herself...

'How am I going to make more connections though?'

Maes Hughes sat in a borrowed desk, face held in his left hand, as his right and crunched up the paper Roy Mustang had just given him not three minutes earlier. Roy felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach as he saw his best friend try his best to maintain his composure. Even in Ishval, Maes hadn't looked this disgusted, and he had by no means been a raging jingoist during the conflict. But this...this hit far too close to home for a young father about to see his own child turn three in less than two months.

"His own daughter," Maes repeated again. He'd arrived in East City only an hour earlier on the overnight train from Central, and had been all jokes as he entered the office. He had arrived in a command center that was in no mood for jokes, and soon had his entire attitude shattered when he was handed the report on what had been discovered in Shou Tucker's residence the previous day, "What kind of man does that?"

"After reviewing the records," Roy said, wanting to get the whole messy day out of the way, "We are pretty sure that the first chimera was Shou Tucker's missing wife."

"His wife too?" Meas seemed to be asking the world more than himself. He pushed up his glasses, and rubbed his temples more, "What kind of man does that."

"A bad one," Roy said, before handing Maes a cup of coffee, "But what right do I have to say that."

"Roy," Maes growled, "Would you please drop the self hating bullshit for five seconds. Ishval was a travesty, but even you know you wouldn't do this-"

"Really," Mustang snapped back. They were the only ones in the room, with even Hawkeye out dealing with the last of the arrangements for Shou Tucker's arrest and containment, "I've set enough people on fire, and I chose that when I became a dog of the military. This isn't the work of the devil, like the doctor said, it's the work of us alchemists," Roy looked down at the ground, "And we are all far too human."

Maes and Roy maintained their ground for the next few moments, just contemplating what had happened over the last day. Maes eventually fully twisted up the paper into a ball, and tossed it into a waste basket. He wasn't going to need it anymore. Roy looked down on his desk, picked up one of the two cups of coffee, and handed it to Maes, who took it, and sipped it. They then sat there for another few moments, as the pitter of the rain came on the windowsill.

Finally, Maes had had enough.

"So, you have him under guard of course," Roy nodded at his friends question.

"When the Elric brothers and Dr. Forger alerted us to what Shou Tuker had done, I set him under house arrest," Roy remembered the exact moment he had been told what had been going on in his jurisdiction, "I sent a medic to patch him up enough that he'll live long enough to get to Central. I put up two guards at the exit to the house, and then called into Central to report Tucker to the proper authorities," Roy finally felt a smile come to his face, "They're sending Major Armstrong to pick him up."

"Ah, Alex," strange the aristocrat may have been, he was undeniably the most moral man either had met in their time in the military. If he was being sent, it meant that it was unlikely that Central was actually trying a cover up, "Maybe even high command is a bit disgusted by this?"

"Possibly?" Roy wondered if maybe they were going to hand him over to someone that might put him to work under lock and key, but then shook his head, "No, probably," if for nothing else, then the realization that that Tucker had been lying to them for the past two years. Command never did like to feel like they were being made fools out of. And for whatever else you could say about Shou Tucker, he had managed to pull a two year con over the entirety of the military.

He almost admired the deception, even if he had nothing but contempt of Shou Tucker the man.

"So, the Elric brothers were studying at Tucker's place, that explains why they were there to catch Tucker," Maes had moved on to the next topic, his mind likely going a mile a minute, "And the psychiatrist was there too?"

"Dr. Forger?" Mustang scratched his chin.

"Yeah. What was a head doctor doing outside of his office in the mid afternoon?"

"He actually didn't have anymore work going on," Roy remembered interviewing the doctor alongside Ed and Al after the arrest of Shou Tucker, "He had had a session with Tucker the day before last, and he found him a bit off putting. He then looked over the files, because he found Shou Tucker so off putting during their conversation," Roy pulled up the files, "He said he found it strange that Tucker's wife disappeared around the same time as the creation of the first chimera, and he used a picture of her to compare it to a picture of the chimera itself. He thought it looked too familiar, and then remembered that Shou had spoken about doing something drastic. He didn't know how much time he had left, so he took his standard pistol, and went to go check on Tucker before anything could happen," Mustang shook his head, "Unfortunately, it was too late for him to get there to save Nina."

"...hey, better than any of us did," Maes admitted, "That he managed to figure it all out from a medical file and a hunch, I wonder if we could recruit hi..."

Maes went silent, and then cupped his chin for a moment. Roy looked at his friend, and blinked. He let the silence hang for a moment, recognizing that Hughes was considering something. He always got quiet like this when his mind had made a connection that no one else noticed. Hell, it was why he had been such a great study partner at the academy before the war. Finally, Maes looked up, and stared at him.

"Roy, the main reason someone probably wasn't able to figure out that Shou Tucker had used his wife for human transmutation is because information on highly important subjects is siloed, you should only have information on what you specifically need to know," he pointed to Mustang himself, "Like, for one thing, I don't actually have access to your file on Alchemic experiments, because that is in the Alchemic Experiments division. I have other things that they probably don't have, like your birth day and birth place," but not much more than that. Maes had helped slowly clear out parts of Roy's background when he agreed to begin working to help Roy take over the government, "It's away to keep secrets as classified as possible, fewer places where information can be lost."

"So I had information on Shou Tucker's wife leaving him but nothing on his alchemic experiments. The alchemic department didn't have information on Shou's personal life, but all the information on the chimera that was created. If either of us had managed to see that information together, we probably would have started an investigation of him," Maes looked Roy directly in the eye, "So if the information division and the alchemic department didn't have all the files to work with, why did this random doctor have all that information. He should have only had access to his medical files."

Roy felt his eyes widen.

"We...we might need to go ask Dr. Forger some questions."

He got up, as did Hughes. They both made towards the door, when suddenly, the doors exploded outward. Standing there was a panting Riza Hawkeye. They both blinked as they saw her standing there in shock.

"Lieutenant, is som-"

"The guards in front of Shou Tucker's house have been reported dead," she said breathlessly. The two stopped, and stared at each other, "We have a perimeter established, but we need you there to investigate the house."

"Did Tucker escape," Roy shouted. Riza shook her head.

"When they went inside the building, they found Shou Tucker's body," she shook her head, and for a moment, Roy felt some type of releif at realizing he wasn't dealing with another Isaac McDougal, "But, it was very bad sir," she said, her eyes looking him directly into his, "It was like he had exploded from the inside out."

"What?"

"No," Maes growled, "I thought he was last seen in Central," Roy looked over at his friend, who shook his head, "There's a serial killer named about killing state alchemists," he pointed towards his head, "He's called Scar. He has a massive scar- an X shaped scar over his forehead, and he's killed a half dozen state alchemists," Hughes looked down, a little in shock, "Including Basque Grand."

"Old man Grand?" Roy remembered only a year ago, when the legend of the war had been there to cheer on his promotion to colonel. He had always been harsh, and committed how own share of horrors, but he had never been anything but supportive of Roy in his way up the ranks, "How could anyone kill him."

"He'd been out at a tavern, and ambushed on his way home," and Roy felt like groaning. Grand always did have a tendency to drink too much.

"So we likely have a serial killer on the loose, who targets state alchemists," Mustang rubbed the back of his head, "The good news the only alchemists who are stationed here are me and Tucker, and we already know Tucker is dead now."

"...what about the Elric brothers?"

"Shit," Roy was so used to them being on the road, that he had forgotten they were still in the city for a second, "Are they still in their quarters?"

"No sir, they are supposed to be meeting with Dr. Forger today," Riza said. Roy cursed, before pointing at his subordinate, "Call the hospital right now. Have them lock down until we get there," he pointed at Maes, "Come on, H company should be on duty, you go alert them to get ready to move. We'll go to the hospital, and get those boys some protection."

"Right," Maes charged down to the mustering hall. As a high ranking officer, he would be in the best position to get the ready to march. Roy began to charge down the stairs, all the while cursing his lax guard. If he had had a few more on duty, maybe Scar would have been killed, and he wouldn't be dealing with this situation. As he pushed out the door, suddenly he realized that Riza was right next to him, gun in hand, "Lieutenant, do you have keys for my car?"

"Yes sir," she responded.

"Good," he said, and they charged towards the vehicle. As the two got in, Mustang could hear the rumbling of other vehicles behind him. He smiled, glad that Hughes already had the company ready to move out. Just as Hawkeye started their engine, another car drove up next to them. In it was 2nd Lieutenants Havoc and Breda, and sergeants Falman and Feury. The best of his staff.

"Where to Colonel," Havoc asked, saluting casually to his officer.

"To the hospital," he looked at Hawkeye expectantly, "Right?"

"I managed to get Yor on the phone," Riza confirmed, "She was delivering files again for medical examinations, so she was at the phone of the 3rd floor."

"Was Ed there?"

"Yes and no," she said, gunning the gas, and beginning to take off, "She said that Dr. Forger had agreed to talk with Edward outside. He said he was feeling claustrophobic and wanted to get some fresh air, and the doctor agreed to have it outside unless the rain really becomes too heavy."

"Shit!" Mustang growled, holding onto the seat as the car rolled down, "You told her to go bring them inside?"

"Of course," Riza nodded, and Roy sighed. Hopefully they could get in before it was too late.

'Don't worry Fullmetal,' he thought to himself, 'We're coming.'