Chapter 34: Back in East City

"Um, Colonel," Havoc's voice carried through the din of Eastern Headquarters, with dozens of secretaries, policemen, and soldiers rushing to and fro. Riza wouldn't have been able to make it out if she wasn't so used to the specific pitch of his whine, "I'm pretty sure it's against protocol for you to be leaving for Central without any orders."

"Aren't you supposed to be looking for Scar right now?" Roy shot back, not even bothering to look up as he was stuffing several papers into his briefcase. Jean's jaw suddenly creaked to the left a half inch, the thankless task clearly effecting his attitude, but Jean remained silent, continuing to glare at his superior. Finally, Roy sighed, before nodding, "It is against protocol, but after last night, Havoc, I'm going to need to be in Central as quickly as possible."

Riza had been woken up by the phone at just a little after ten. Normally, she would have been up alongside Roy, mostly to keep him focused on his actual work, but she'd been given the night off. She had a new puppy after all, and she needed to make sure Black Hayate had been comfortable. She'd had to give Roy one of her usual threats about the work he needed to finish while she was away, and she was then able to head home, take her dog out, eat dinner, and head to bed early.

Roy had been panicking when she'd finally picked up, saying something about Maes Hughes being cut off before they could talk. Maes often called East Headquarters, if for no other reason than to gloat over his family to Roy, but he wasn't the sort to call and then hang up. No, it would always have to be Roy who hung up the phone, almost always after Maes had pushed just the right button to knock him for a loop. But a dial tone on the other end meant that somehow, as the phone was being patched through, Maes had been cut off. That something was wrong was only further emphasized when it was revealed the call had been an external phone, explaining why the call had had to be patched through, rather than automatically going to Roy's desk from the military's phone office.

Fearing something had happened, Roy had spent the whole night pacing, wondering what had happened. He had made several calls to Central Police, but no one could give him any kind of answer. Unfortunately, the office appeared to be understaffed, especially that late at night, so no one was able to help him until after midnight. While that eventually lead to patrols being formed of Military Police, it wasn't much comfort to Roy, who spent the rest of the morning shaking, hoping beyond hope his best friend was okay.

Finally, after six in the morning and another unsuccessful call, Roy had decided he'd be going to Central to help with the search. Northing RIza could say would dissuade him...so she stated she would be going to, and set aside the work they would need to do on the ride over so they could be productive. Though, she gave a side eye at Roy, who was tapping his pen against his desk at such a speed that she almost thought he was trying to talk to her in morse code, she doubted they would get any real work down with the Colonel's worries on such display.

'I'd hope we'd get some news about Maes,' she sighed, before shaking her head, 'But considering what that new might be...'

That, was something she wasn't going to consider.

"We've been digging through that mess for weeks now," Havoc groaned, the conversation pulling Riza from her thoughts, "We've found some blood, and Scar's jacket, but I'm telling you, if it was him, his body's probably been blown into scraps by the explosion."

"Well, my orders were for you to not stop going through the rubble until I saw a body," Riza winced at the spite in the Colonel's voice, but sighed, as Havoc simply groaned, and began to walk away from the desk. Havoc knew that something was up, and was just trying to help, but when Roy got like this, there wasn't anything that could be done.

"The train leaves the station in half an hour," Roy's voice was quieter, but it was no less intense. Riza nodded, making sure she had both her standard issue pistol, and her secondary light revolver loaded for a confrontation. They couldn't be sure, but at the moment, this was all they could do. Roy stood up, making sure to pick up his breifcase, "Let's get heading toward the stat-"

"COLONEL!" it was Millie, one of the office girls, "THEY FOUND LIEUTENANT COLONEL HUGHES IN THE HOSPITAL!"

"WHAT!?" Roy shouted back. Riza turned to see the young blonde woman standing in the door, waving at them to follow. Roy nearly knocked over his desk as he charged toward the phone room, Riza right on his heels. She could hear Havoc behind her, as well as plenty of the soldiers who had been meandering around the office. After a few seconds, they were in the main room, with Camilla currently speaking on the phone, and Sharon doing her best to transcribe everything that was being said. Their eyes lit up as Roy rushed over to him, and the blonde woman tossed the phone to her commanding officer.

"Colonel Mustang is here!" she shouted into the receiver as it entered his hands. Roy quickly placed it against the side of his head, and took a deep breath in.

"This is Colonel Roy Mustang," he said firmly. For a moment, his face was a solid rock, as he took in the call. Finally, after about twenty seconds, he let out a great sigh, as his shoulders slumped in relief. Riza felt her own shoulders loosen too, and could see looks of relief over the office girls and most of the staff currently around them. Roy finally spoke up, "Good to hear that he's conscious," at that, a couple of shouts went up from the staff, and Riza couldn't help but smile. For all that Maes could annoy the staff with his constant calls, he was still well liked by almost all of Eastern Headquarters. Maes then rubbed his shoulder, "Shoulder injury and blood loss," he frowned, "Sounds like he took quite the beating," he then looked over at Riza for a moment, and she nodded at him, to which he nodded back, "Okay, let me know when he is able to call me again, I'll remain by my phone until he is capable of getting on call."

At that, Roy handed the phone back to Camila, who began to make the last few necessary by protocol comments to end an official call. Roy gave out a sigh, before turning back to the staff. At first everyone, who had been on edge to learn about the popular Hughes, tensed at the thought of having dropped their duties to hear what had happened. He then smiled at them, and raised his arms up.

"He's okay!" and again, a cheer went out from the rest of the staff.

"Ha, man, he's going to be calling you up again talking your ear off pretty soon then?" Havoc laughed, some of his exasperation gone, "He rubbed the back of his head, "And just imagine how much of a pain he's going to be when he learns how worried about him you were."

"Yeah," Riza could see a vein pop on Roy's forehead, "And just imagine how much of a pain it's going to be for you having double shifts on the Scar search."

"Wait-Colonel!"

Riza sighed. More than likely, they would try and get Maes on the phone later today. They'd need to reach out and hopefully manage to get him to explain exactly what had happened that had landed him in the hospital. She'd have to call and cancel their tickets, but it wouldn't be too much of a problem. Really, she was just glad that her worst fears had not been realized.

"I freaking hate jobs like this," Jean Havoc squawked, something that most of his fellow soldiers likely felt like joining in on, but they were too low to get the privlege of calling out this crappy work, "We're going to break all our backs digging through this rubble," Jean leaned backward, and groaned as he looked up in the sky, "and of course, the chance of us finding that guys body are well under half. Just a shitty situation all around."

Weeks since the explosion that supposedly had ended Scar's life, and no new information to go off at all. Really, it was just the sort of shitty job that guys like him, young commissioned officers with mid level prospects, got assigned to. It was important, but not so important that they were going to actually have Mustang himself do it.

"Still," he sighed, rubbing the back of his head, "Need to take the good with the bad," he looked down at the pistol on his right side, "Chances are, I'm not about to get my brains blown up fighting him. Considering how long it's been, the chances of us actually getting into a fight a miniscule."

It's not that Havoc didn't like fighting, or that he was some kind of desk jockey. He had even come to Mustang's attention due to his skill as a covert operator. But he wasn't a monster like all the others around him. Hell, even Hawkeye was terrifying on an unbelievable level. So he was perfectly happy with never seeing that crazed serial killer ever again, thank you very much.

"Eh," he sighed, just shaking his head, "Might as well get working on the northern quarter," he began towards some of the part of the investigation zone, towards where there was still buildings and a relatively active road, "the buildings will probably give us some shade, so that might make today slightly less shitty," he then turned back towards the Military Policemen behind him, "You here that! To the northern quarter today!"

"Sir!"

Less than fifteen minutes later, Havoc and dozens of his soldiers were picking through the remains of what had been a small cab rental office. It had been one of the only buildings hurt in the explosion, and luckily no one had been in it at the time. They hadn't been able to take apart this one because of some kind of request for the owners to dig throu-eh, it wasn't worth thinking too much about.

"Just one more crappy part of the job," Havoc rubbed the back of his head, sweat already covering his palm as he leaned forward on his shovel, waiting for some assholes to go through their files so nothing confidential was lost. Hell, that Matthew McMahon had seemed like such an old codger, insiting that his cabinets be removed so "No one's personal information was lost."

'No one cares who rents your cabs, you old coot,' Havoc groaned, returning his shovel to his shoulder, and walking back towards the rubble, 'Just meant if Scar was here, we might have los-'

"Oh, excuse me sir!"

Havoc stopped, and turned toward the street that had once run up along this former building. Standing there was a tall man in a white suit with a white bowler hat covering the top of his head. He had long curly white hair flowing down his back, and deeply tanned skin that was made even darker by the shade of his wide brimmed hat. Despite his apparent age, in his mid-fifties at least, he was remarkably solid in his footing, waving at Havoc while standing taller than the Lieutenant was. Havoc let out a short groan as he waltzed on towards the older man, not really happy to have his work delayed again.

"Can I help you sir?" he asked, his left hand instinctively making towards the pack of cigarettes in his pocket only to stop to try and keep military appearance in tact.

"Why yes," the man had a deep voice, though it was surprisingly calm. Havoc couldn't really make out was going through this man's mind, his eyes were covered by the glasses, but the strength in the voice was clear, "You see, I am a business partner of the Mr. McMahon, and-"

"Shi-," Havoc nearly shouted, but caught himself, and did his best to regain his composure. He then quickly bowed towards the taller and older man, "Sorry sir, it's just been," he remembered seeing the persnickety old fella with glasses glaring at him with contempt as he explained the importance of maintaining the confidentiality of the files in his office, "It's been a bit difficult to assist your partner in making sure that his business is protected as well as complete our search for the man who caused this disaster."

"No, no," the taller man was chuckling, and for a second, Havoc wasn't sure whether that was something good or bad, "You see, I am actually here to apologize for my partner."

'Oh, what do you know, Good,' Havoc felt relief suddenly come over him, 'Honestly, just getting an apology just makes this whole shit show a bit better.'

"Hey, it happens," Havoc decided it would be best to be conciliatory, "I can't imagine what it's like coming back to work on a Monday and suddenly seeing your whole business blown sky high. He was probably just trying to cling to the little control he probably felt he had."

"Still, that does not excuse how he behaved," the man's wide brimmed hat shook to the side and back, "Honestly, the man is older than I am, but he still will act like a self important school boy at times," Havoc couldn't help but five a little smirk, "Once he told me about your interactions, well I thought it might be best to bring a bit of a peace offering," and then the older man removed form his wide coat a glass bottle, at least twice the size of a usual one, "I own a vineyard out in the country side, so I thought it might be good to...wet the thirst of the men who he made life so much harder."

At that, Havoc didn't even bother to hide his grin.

It was only five minutes later when Havoc and his dozen or so men had joined the older gentleman sitting behind some construction equipment to hide they were slacking off. The man had brought cups for all of them, and so Havoc and his boys were getting the ability to enjoy just a bit of a break from all the digging.

"Ah man," Jean laughed, wiping his lips, "This is some good booze here," he stopped, and then rubbed the back of his head, "Sorry, it is a really fine wine sir."

"Oh, a mighty good booze indeed," the older man chuckled, causing all the soldier around him to cheer. Havoc almost shook his head. How could a guy like this be the partner of an asshole like McMahon, he'd never know, but he wasn't complaining. Still, the older man looked over at Havoc, and then a small frown appeared, "So I suppose you haven't found the body of the terrorist who set off the explosive, am I correct?"
'Ah,' Havoc could feel the mood dampen slightly, but still, the free drink was more than enough to push the negativity to a minimum, 'Guess he would be interested in that.'

"Yeah," Havoc shook his head, "That guy, Scar," the older gentleman didn't react, so he clearly was somewhat in the know, "We haven't found anything beyond a bloody jacket, and that was reported in the paper a week ago," the older man raised his hand to his chin, "We've been digging ever since, but we still can't find anything to identify him," Havoc couldn't help but shake his head, "We've found some bodies, but most of them were too charred to tell anything."

"And anything you could tell probably leads you to believe those aren't him," it wasn't a question.

"Right on the money," Havoc nodded, taking another sip of the wine, "I can't tell if he was blown up, died in the river, or if he's now a hundred miles away making his next move," he shook his head, "Just a big old mess."

"Yes," the tan man nodded his head, and Havoc almost smirked a bit as he leaned forward, "This is truly a mess."

"Though I am glad to know that he isn't with you right now," at that, almost everyone looked over at the man, though the gentleman didn't even seem to move.

"You figured it out then?" the older man said more seriously now, most of the humor lost in his voice. Suddenly, an aura of danger came over the man's thin frame, even though not a muscle had yet moved.

"Well, it's not that hard," Havoc shook his head, "I mean, dark skin, long white hair, sunglasses," it was just really a richer person's version of Scar's own costume from back when Havoc had last seen him, "I was actually wondering if you were here to scout for him for a minute, but I'm like ninety percent sure you are just a concerned citizen now, and a hundred percent sure you aren't working with Scar."
"Not bad," a slight laugh was in the background of the gentleman's voice, but only slight, "Though why do you say that?"

"You clearly don't like him for one," Havoc had noticed the older man's actual disappointment on learning Scar wasn't dead, "But more importantly, if you were looking to find if we'd found anything out, you would have acted like you were just coming here for more of your business partner's notes, and not to shoot the shit with us," Havoc leaned back for a second against the equipment, as most of his men seemed to take that as good enough, "Though I have to ask," Havoc looked over, "Do you have any clue where that asshole may have crawled off to."

"I'm hoping it's straight to hell," the older man said, before rubbing his chin, a sad look on his face, "Though if I had to guess..."

"You're awake!"

Scar's eyes went over a small blonde boy, with soft brown eyes. They boy was smiling at him, as he pulled off an old rag from his head. Then, a new wet one was placed on top of it. Scar could only barely see the boy as he seemed to turn on his heel.

"You...you healed me?"

"Yeah," the boy laughed, turning back from the opening to smile again at Scar. Scar couldn't help but blink at the Amestrian just giggling at him, "We pulled you from a sewer, that was really weird."

"You helped an Ishvala-"

"Why not," the boy leaned forward a bit closer, and suddenly that brown became tinged with red, "My Mom's Ishvalan."

...

"Hey gramps! He's awake!" the boy finally shouted out.

Suddenly, there was a great deal of activity, when several hands grabbed at the edge of the tent, and the flaps were flipped open. In walked a short man, but he was clearly fully Ishvalan, with deep tanned skin and a long white beard. The man was giving Scar a smile, as he pushed into the room, and kneeled down next to Scar.

"My goodness, we were worried you never wake again young man," the old man chuckled, walking in with his hands held behind his back, "Especially since the military itself also happens to be looking for you."

"...and you aren't going to report me?" Scar asked, in muscles tensing, but real fear growing as he couldn't feel his limbs move at all despite him using all his will to try and command them to push.

"Of course not," the old man gave Scar a massive smile, "This little shanty town," he stopped, and thought for a moment, "Well, shanty city more likely," he chuckled, "has thousands of Ishvalans."

"Thousands," Scar nearly jumped up. That couldn't be possible. The genocide of Ishval had been-

"Yes thousands," the old man chuckled, "There are thousands of us all across Amestris, in colonies and ghettos and communes," suddenly, behind him, the flaps opened once more, and a half dozen clearly Ishvalan men pushed their heads through. They ranged from being as old as "Gramps" to as young as Scar himself, but they were all healthy, and none seemed to have the wounds of battle, "But even with that many, there is no reason to abandon a kinsmen in need."

Scar, for the first time in what felt like ages, allowed himself to smile. He laned backward, and felt a great breath of guilt suddenly push itself out of his lungs, and into the open air.

"Hey," one of the men in the background asked, "Is there anything else he needs?"

"Yeah," another said loudly, "maybe some water or new clothes."

"I am well my brothers," he said as loudly as he could, and then coughed, before calming himself. The old man was leaning over him, smile still on. Scar, in control once more, began the Assurance of Ivana, "The Entire world-"

"rests in the bosom of Ishvala," the crowd around him, even the little boy with white skin, said aloud, and for the first time in years, Scar felt like he was home.

_

"...yeah," Havoc nodded, "I wouldn't be shocked if he's there," Havoc looked over at the river, "Just float on out of the sewer, get picked up in the river, and then about three or four miles until your in Little Ishval," Havoc shook his head, "And once he's there-"

"The chance of finding him are near zero," the older Ishvalan agreed.

"Couldn't we send some patrols through that town then?" one of the younger men, Stephens, barely enlisted, asked. Havoc let out a groan, as several of the older men just shook there heads.

"Sending a military patrol into a place with over ten thousand Ishvalan refugees," Havoc said aloud. The young man stopped, thought for a moment, and then nodded. Havoc shook his head, "And since there are tens of thousands of them, going through each one of those hovels, tents, and cabins would take weeks, with hundreds of men we don't have," he sighed, "Certainly not without calling in more men from General Grumman's command."

"Well then," Stephens then offered, looking over at the gentleman, "What about you sir," the older man looked at Stephens, who seemed to wither under his gaze, "Wouldn't you maybe be able to go and ask since," he stopped, and rubbed his head, not really wanting to say it, but Havoc was glad that the kid had implied it.

"No," the gentleman shook his head, "My clothes would mark me as an issue as much as your would," he sighed, "My manners and distance to the community of my people make exploring that place difficult for one such as me," he stopped, taking in a sip, "Certainly if I were to try and go in and out of the city multiple times to report information."

"So the best we can probably do is just keep our eyes peeled for anything suspicious coming out of that town," Havoc nodded, "Maybe keep a bounty up for Scar's head, and then hope that he really just got incinerated here," he sighed, leaning his head back, "Not a fun result, but probably the best we can hope for."

"Well then," the older Ishvalan stood up, "I shall hope that someone with better eyes than I is looking into the that town," he turned, but Havoc couldn't help but think he was promising to have someone do it by himself. Maybe he was going to pay for some kind of private detective, "But, thank you for indulging this old man's need for closure."

"Thank you for the booze!" Havoc shouted toward the retreating man, who seemed to laugh, and wave as he walked out of the construction area, and back onto the main street. Havoc and his men continued to wave at the retreating gentleman, more than happy with the little break the older man had provided them. Still, after a few minutes, Havoc looked back towards Stephens, who was busy, looking inquisitively at the ground, "Something wrong private?"

"Sir," Stephens asked, clearly a bit perturbed, "Did...did he ever tell us his name?"

"Hughes is on the phone Colonel Mustang!"

Sharon's words cut through the office, the room now far emptier than it had been all those hours ago in the morning. Sharon, nor any of the other girls were here. Only Roy, Riza, and Sargent Fuery, who had set up a small recording device just to make sure to see if something was wrong. And it was that recording that was playing again, with the four of them staring at the recoding machine as it played.

"It is strange to hear your voice played back like that," the glasses wearing officer said aloud. He had been chosen to join Roy's team for his communication equipment skills, so he was going to be key in telling if anything was going on with the lines as the recording played.

"I got it," Roy's voice cut in, "Hello, Maes, are you there?"

"Yeah, Roy, I'm here," Maes's voice sputtered through, "I'm a bit worse for wear right now."

"No problem," Roy's voice was there again, though the relief was palpable in the recording. For a few seconds, there was silence, as the air seemed to be allowed to clear from the shock that Roy had been feeling, "So, anything you can tell me about why you got shot last night?"

"Well, remember the Twilight case?" Riza felt herself nod at that. It had been a topic of discussion for the two of them when they weren't just shooting the shit, "Well, we got him, but he kind of got me too."

"Shit," Roy seemed worried, "Any specifics on the guy or-"

"Eh, ya know. Got him when he wasn't looking, but he was armed, and managed to hit me when I wasn't expecting it. It was lucky that Dr. Forger was here to help, or new on who Twilight was wouldn't have gotten out, and I might be in a pine box."

There was a click, as Roy had hit the stop on the listening device. He leaned back, and began to rub his chin for a moment. Fuery looked at him for the moment, but Roy just kept waiting for a second, still thinking about what was being said.

"He's not saying everything," Roy concluded, and Riza couldn't help but nod. It was clear enough. There were certainly some major details that were being shared, but it was very vague, like stuff had been scrubbed. More importantly was mentioning something with Lloyd Forger. The agent of Central had been a common topic of discussion between Roy and Maes, and that there wasn't anything else being said there meant that, "if Dr. Forger was involved, then Central Command had to be involved," Riza continued to nod, "So more than likely, something happened that got him wounded, and it had to deal with Command itself," he then reached down and clicked the start button.

"Well, glad to hear you had a doctor on hand," Roy's voice said, "So...guess Elica and Gracia are really happy to see you alright."

"Yeah, they're doing great. But anyway, I need to bring up a couple of thi-"

That had been the real tip off though. Maes had just talked about his wife and daughter for a second, and instead of his usual diatribe, he'd been exceedingly curt. Riza knew, and Roy knew for that matter, if Maes was strong enough to talk on the phone in a circumstance where something dangerous wasn't going on, there would have been two and a half minutes at least of descriptions about how beautiful and wonderful his family was. That hadn't happened, and had been enough to cause every red flag to go off in both of their heads.

The rest of the conversation was nearly as curt as mention of Maes's family. An announcement of Maes's promotion, and a request by Central with Maes's recommendation to come and serve as the new head of the Alchemical Research division. The offer had been there before, but with Maes now as a general, it was seen to be even more important. Roy had said he would call back in the morning, and give his official response to the offered promotion then. All told, the conversation had been less than three minutes, and while to most that would be understandable for a man who had been sent to a hospital, to them, it meant that.

"Something is definitely wrong here," Roy said, as the recording of their conversation ended. Fuery just nodded. Even as the youngest member of Roy's team, he was very attuned to the underlining planning and scheming that defined how their team operated.

"Yeah," the young man said, "I kind of wish we had more time," Fuery tapped the recording device, "Might have been enough to stretch this old baby out and see if we couldn't detect some other voices in the background."

"Probably why they ended the conversation so soon," Riza offered, and then Roy nodded. For a second, the three of them just sat there, before Riza looked up at the ceiling, "So, we know that Maes is being promoted for stopping a spy, but something really fishy is happening."

"That that fishy thing is probably why he can't say more, and why," Roy groaned, "He was on a non-military line last night while he had a military one forced on him today, Riza nodded at that.

"I hope he wasn't too sore after being dragged around like that," Fuery sighed.

"And we know," Roy concluded, "That it has something to do with Lloyd Forger," he blinked for a few seconds, "Maybe Lloyd Forger got some kind of hold on him," but then he stopped, and closed his eyes, "No, there would be no way he'd be approved to say even mention the name if it was Lloyd Forger who was pulling the strings."

"So maybe Lloyd Forger was caught up in the same thing?" Riza offered, and the Colonel nodded. After that, the three of them sat silent, before finally Roy kicked his feet, and was standing straight.

"So," Roy said, "I suppose our only recourse is to head off to Central then," Riza blinked, as suddenly a bit of panic came over Fuery's face.

"But sir," the young man's voice shook, "You said yourself, General Hughes," at that Roy's face almost formed a pout out of boyish jealousy, "Is currently being held hostage by Central Command somehow," Roy nodded, "Aren't we just walking into the same sort of trap going to Central, and having that trap sprung on us?"

"Maybe," Roy shook his head, "But Hughes is clearly in danger, and after last night, there isn't a chance that I'm about to leave him with a noose hanging around his neck," he then pulled up his confident smile, "Besides, if I'm going to become Fuhrer, I need to take whatever opportunity presents itself," his smile then became a smirk, "This is a chance to find out exactly what's going on in that city, and maybe figure out just why Command wants me there."

"I'm with you sir," Riza said aloud, and Roy's smirk returned to being a smile again, "I'll start packing up for our move."
"So will I sir," Fuery saluted Roy, who nodded at him too, "And I'll tell the others," the images of Falman, Breda and Havoc crossed Riza's mind. Then Fuery blinked, and then said, "Ah, but Havoc might be a problem."

"Eh, he'll be able to leave that crappy job looking for Scar," Roy shrugged.

"But sir," Fuery was a bit disjointed, but he continued, "He just was bragging about this new girlfr-"

"Have him dump her."

'Why does anyone think you are some kind of ladies man?' Riza couldn't help but shake her head, as poor Fuery began to cry at realizing he was going to have to relay that to his superior officer.