Chapter 31: Equivalent Exchange

Hughes frantically twisted the rotary of the phone with his right hand, all the while the left was pressed up against the wound from the strange woman who had attacked him. If he hadn't recognized the tattoo on her chest, he wouldn't have been prepared to fight back against, her, and he would probably be dead now. He had managed to slam a knife into her head, and that had allowed him to get away.

'Got to talk to Roy,' Hughes groaned, using all his strength to maintain his consciousness as he got past the digits for the eastern region. He had to call Roy from out here, on a non-military line. With what he had just seen in the records office, he could not take a chance that someone might be listening in on their conversations. If that happened, then both of them would be dead before the morning.

Afterall, they would have to die for knowing that the country of Amestris was an Alchemic circle.

'The constant riots, the unending wars,' He thought, remembering his conversation with Yuri and Captain Focker, 'The slaughter of Ishval,' painful memories of sand and blood, 'All to make an alchemic circle...for the creation of a Philosopher's stone,' the violent incidents on the map matched the circle that Edward had drawn for him during their meeting earlier in the day almost perfectly.

"Hello, East City Headquarters?" came the voice on the other end of the line suddenly spoke up, and Hughes felt a bit of of tension leave his chest, though he was hoping that it didn't have anything to do with the amount of blood that he'd lost from the shoulder wound.

"Yes," he said with as much controlled voice as he could muster, "I need to speak with Ro-Colonel Mustang immediately!"

"Sir," it wasn't a familiar voice, perhaps a new girl that had replaced Yor Forger when she had moved into Central after marrying Lloyd, said with a bit of a rote script, "We have a policy against connecting calls to officers from an outside li-"

"I'm using an outside line because it's an emergency," Hughes screamed into the phone, his hands shaking from the frustration and blood loss, "This is Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes, Intelligence Division. I'm calling in from Central."

He heard a pause on the other side, then a muffled rumbling from there as well, likely the woman covering the phone so he couldn't hear. After about ten seconds, her voice reappeared, and asked, "Can you please give me your Code."

"Fine," Maes sent his left hand, the one with the wounded shoulder, into his coat pocket, and pulled out his wallet. He pulled it out so fast, that several pictures and bills flew out behind him, but he only barely noticed them as he flipped to the back of his identification card, and began to recited, "Uncle, Sugar, Eight, Zero, Zero."

It took two seconds for her to respond, "I have verified your code, hold a minute while I transfer you."

"Please hurry," Maes said, though the dial tone for the transfer had already begun, "The military, the whole country is in grave danger!"

CRUNCH

"Please hang up the phone, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes."

Maes felt his blood run cold. He knew that voice, he had heard it only a few hours earlier while saying good bye to the Elric brothers. He turned around, and then looked back to see a short haired woman in officer blues pointing a gun at his head. Her brown eyes, usually so earnest, were now staring a hole into his head...one that might become literal if she pulled the trigger of the weapon in her hand. Maes felt his stomach drop, remembering Fuhrer King Bradley's words from earlier in the day. Anyone could be their enemy, they couldn't trust anyone.

"2nd Lieutenant Ross?" he continued to stare her in the face, looking directly in the eyes to try and connect with the woman he had trusted...and then he looked down a little further on her face, and almost felt a bit of glee as some of the despair of betrayal left his body. He barked out a laugh that caused the "Lieutenant" to raise an eyebrow.

"What's so funny?" she asked, the gun still pointing at Maes's head.

"You aren't her," he finally laughed, as the thing still stood their like a statue, the gun pointed directly at his temple, "Who are you? Because I can tell you right now I know you aren't 2nd Lieutenant Maria Ross."

"No," the imposter said, not moving an inch from the accusation, "I am Lieutenant Ross. We have met sever-"

"The disguise is pretty good," Maes felt his teeth grind together for a moment, trying to buy himself time as he moved his left arm slightly in it's coat, and felt that his other hidden knife was still in position. He then gritted his teeth, preparing for the next few seconds that he knew would determined if he would live or die, "But the 2nd Lieutenant has mole under her left eye."

The imposter continued to frown, though the eyes widened slightly. But then, that frown disappeared, as the edges of the mouth twisted upward, and it seemed she was barely containing a laugh. The figure then pulled it's left arm up to it's face, all the while keeping the right arm pointed directly at Hughes, though the movement had caused the gun to lower from his forehead to his throat, and then placed a finger directly beneath her left eye. In a flash or red lighting, the skin of the imposter began to move. Flakes seemed to break off from the skin of the creature, dissipating in the red light, and then, where the flake had previously been, a new mole had grown directly where it would normally be on Maria's face. Hughes felt his stomach drop at the sudden transformation, as the woman closed her eyes, the cruel smirk that didn't seem to belong on the 2nd Lieutenant's face staring him directly in the eyes.

"Thank you for pointing that out," the figure laughed, still using Maria Ross's voice, but with a venomous bite within it. Anyone who had met Maria could not hear that in her voice, as the creature behind Hughes laughed about the whole thing, "I guess I've gotten kind of complacent these days. Most people aren't usually so observant, but that could cause a problem in the future if I'm not more careful."

"...what are you?" Maes growled, and this time the imposter did bother to hold back it's laugh. And while there were still elements of Maria Ross's voice there, there was another voice their too, and there was more cruelty in that voice than Maes could ever imagine coming from another human being. Maes couldn't even bring himself to look at it anymore, looking away, back at the phone, all the while still hearing the tone as the transfer was happening to Mustang, The figure settled down, and answered Maes.

"Oh, I'm your worst Nightmare," it finally said, before pausing. Maes sighed, and then let loose his own little smirk as he looked down at the phone. He let his left arm hang loose, and began to move his arm within the sleeve of his left shirt to unhook his knife, "Your quick wits may be helpful to me Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, but they are going to be why you die tonight."

"Die," an image of Gracia smiling at him while holding Elicia was held in her arms flashed through his mind, "Sorry about that, but I've got a wife and kid at home," he released the final mechanism holding the knife to his arm, and caught it in his left hand. He twisted suddenly, his left arm filled from pain from his shoulder wound armed with his short throwing knife, with every intent on stabbing the imposter Maria Ross in the face.

Except...

It wasn't Ross's face that was looking back at him when he finally could see the form again.

Gracia Hughes was now standing there, smiling at him with the same smile she had when he had left for work in the morning. Light blond hair framed her gentle smile, all the while her body was still highlighted by the fading light of red that was slowly wrapping downward along the imposter's legs. Hughes stopped his motion to release his knife, and stared for a second, all the while the figure still had the standard operating side arm pointed at his head.

"You wouldn't stab your own wife, would you?" the figure asked, and Maes Hughes felt tears well up in his eyes and his jaw begin to tremble. And then the figure smirked, a sick laugh as it added, "Pretty good acting huh?" as slowly it pulled the trigger in it's hand.

BA-BANG

...

Hughes felt pain.

'God, so much pain,' he thought, his eyes closing when he heard the gun shot.

The world was a flash, and he couldn't see anything, and all he felt was anguish and pain.

'Am I dead?'

And then, the second was over, and he began to regain his senses. First, was his sense of touch, and the pain came through harder and faster than before. However, he felt himself suddenly smirk as it happened as he could feel that somehow, someway, the bullet hadn't ripped into his face.

It had hit his left shoulder. That was still bad, as it had also managed to reopen the wound from earlier, but it meant that somehow the thing had missed a killing blow to him.

The next sense to return was his hearing. And what he heard most, was static. This caused him to lose his smirk.

'Shit, the bullet must have gone through my shoulder and into the phone,' he considered, 'I can't get to Mustang now.'

Of course, he then remembered that he was trying to stay alive, and considered the lost phone a necessary sacrifice. Still, he didn't know what had happened, and for the briefest of seconds, he still couldn't see.

And then his eyes finally returned to full function, and Maes was greeted with the sight of his wife's head bent over it's left shoulder, blood pouring out from the side of the head. Red lighting indicated that this wasn't his wife in the slightest, and Hughes looked over the spray of blood over the right shoulder, indicating that someone had shot his wife's doppelganger from his left.

"What the-" the imposter declared, red lighting still pouring from where the shot had landed-

BAM

Only for the body of his wife to bounce to the side, an eruption of blood this time from the shoulder. Once again red lighting sparkled from the wounds, and the thing pretending to be Gracia Hughes turned, and then aimed the gun away from Maes, rage so hateful across Gracia's face that he wondered how he ever could have mistaken it for her.

"Come out you-"

BAM-BAM

Two more shots slammed into "Gracia" again, one in the stomach, and then another in the head. All the while, the magic red sparks were still running, and Maes caught the view of a bullet hitting the ground, as the wound from the side of the head healed away. Despite the hits that should have caused the imposter to collapse, it was still screaming angrily, and then raised it's gun in defiance.

'You can't kill this thing with one shot,' Maes considered, and then looked down at his left arm, and cursed. He'd lost all feeling in it, and when that happened, the knife had fallen to the ground. It was now sitting next to a spray of blood, and some of the lost papers that had fallen out of his wallet...including a picture of Maes, Gracia and Elicia, 'So that's how he knew what she looked like,' he thought for a moment, before looking out at the crazed figure, pointing it's gun towards where the shots had been coming from. He then took one last look back down at the picture, and then pushed himself from the booth.

'I'm going to get home,' he gritted his teeth, and was back on the sidewalk. The enraged imposter caught him as he moved, however, and then returned the gun it was wielding back towards Hughes, pulling the trigger as it did so.

BAMBAM

It had been too wide an arc, and the shots were in no way accurate, but the second bullet did catch Maes in the side of his left leg. He kept his footing, but felt himself slow down even further.

"You're not goin-" BAM

And again, the imposter's head was thrown back, before in a final rage, the creature fully committed itself to one shooting at it. Maes, almost immobile from the second shot, barely managed to keep himself upright, looked back, and saw where the firing was coming from. A medium sized car was sitting on the road, it's lights out, but a man clearly visible, firing a pistol from the left side of the vehicle. Whoever it was, they had to have a great shot, since he was hitting the imposter with almost fifty yards of distance between them while using a side arm.

BAM

Again, the imposter fell backward, this shot hitting it's left knee cap and causing it's leg to buckle, before, in it's rage, raising it's gun, and firing back at the car.

BAMBAMBAM

All three had hit the car, but the first two only seemed to strike into the full metal of the body of the vehicle. The third managed to hit the mirror next to the shooter, and force him back inside. And then, for a moment, the entire street was quiet again.

VRROOOMMM

The lights on the front of the car suddenly lit up, and the spotlight was directly on the imposter. The figure was still recovering from the last few shots that had hit it, trying to recover the stability in it's leg, so it couldn't do anything, as the engine of the vehicle roared, and was closing the distance as fast as the gas powered machine could go. Within a moment, the front of the vehicle was only inches in front of his wife's imposter. And on the imposter's face was a look that, were it not currently wearing his wife's Maes might have actually laughed at.

CRRAAUUGHSSASSSHHHHHH

The vehicle did knock the imposter to the ground, and left some ten feet behind the vehicle that had just ran it over, but somehow the imposter had given as good as it got, with the front where the collision had occurred slightly caved in from the impact, and a large spiral of cracks on the windshield from the impact. For a moment, Maes wondered how a human body could do that to a car that size, but he was brought out of his stupor, when suddenly, the right side door was open into the car.

"GET IN!" came a male voice from inside, and Maes, at this moment running on only instinct and adrenaline jumped into the seat. He twisted himself into a seated position, and then he heard the engine roar once again. He took a moment to look over, eyes passing the gun that had been used to save his life sitting only inches from him between the driver and passenger seats, and felt his eyes widen.

There sat Lloyd Forger, a mix of anger and terror over his features. Maes quickly closed the door, then the doctor slammed his foot onto the acceleration pedal.

RRRREEERRREEERREEEERRRRRR

"COME ON!" he heard Dr. Forger scream, and then he looked backward, and he saw the blonde man's jaw drop, "Oh my God."

Maes looked back, and felt his stomach jump to his throat. The car was being held in place by a tentacle, that was wrapped underneath around the trunk and allowing the wheels to screech as they made contact but could not move. Maes's eyes followed the mass of flesh to the body of the imposter, standing defiantly in the streets. Gracia's head was mangled beyond all recognition, but it was slowly reforming, with red lighting dancing all across the creature's body. It opened it's mouth, and the second voice, the one that he had heard hidden beneath the fake Maria Ross's screamed out at them.

"YOU AREN'T GOING ANYWHERE YOU ROTTEN HUMANS!"

BAM

Maes saw the head of the thing roll backwards from another shot, and he felt the car drop, and then move. He heard what sounded like screaming metal as pieces of metal flew off the back of the car. The screeching dissipated, and in it's place was the hum of an engine firing the whole of the car forward at the fastest speed possible. Within a second, they were a hundred yards down the street.

Then two hundred.

Then three hundred.

Maes kept his eyes the thing as it receded into the background, but they were already too far away for any more retaliation. He felt his shoulders suddenly relax, but then he felt the pain return to him. On the edge of his vision, he could see a bit of darkness, and he shook his head. He was feeling so tired.

"Nice work there," Maes looked over. Lloyd looked calmer than before, though clearly his nerves were still frayed. He was focusing his eyes forward, on the road, and clearly trying to understand what the thing he just saw was.

"Nice wo-" Maes looked down, and suddenly realized he had the gun in his right hand. He must have grabbed it, and shot the thing, going completely on instinct. He shook his head, and then groaned, as he felt the pain begin to push around him again. He looked over at his shoulder, he could see more blood beginning to flow out. He'd need to get to the hospital, he'd have to call Mustang...

He had to see his family...

He felt his eyes grow heavy.

"Please get me to a doctor, I think I lost a lot of blood."

"Will do," Lloyd nodded, clearly thinking about the hospital he'd need to arrive at. Still, despite that, he was beginning to lose his consciousness, he needed one last bit of information. He'd already learned the answer to one mystery tonight, might as well see if he could go two for two.

"Thank you," he said, a smile on his lips as he drifted from the waking world, "Agent Twilight."

The last image he saw before he drifted off was Twilight's shocked face marked by his jaw dropping in an instant.

Humankind cannot gain anything...

"Damnit Lloyd," Franky took in another breath of his cigarette, tapping his free hand on the desk, eyes straining under the one lamp he had on, "Where the hell are you?"

It had supposedly been a quick little surveillance plan. Twilight, after the party the previous night, had learned that the Elric Brothers were going to be heading out of town from his conversation with that Rockbell girl had been frustrated he hadn't been able to learn more about the Fifth Laboratory, he had decided to try and spy on them one last time before they left to see if they had found anything. He'd snuck into the hospital they were being housed at...

Only for Fuhrer Bradley and his entourage to arrive before he did. With the extra security, he'd been unable to break in to get in a good position to spy on the brothers before the brothers had left. Twilight had missed was had probably been an important meeting between the Elrics and a gaggle of other officers who they considered confidants. By the end of the afternoon, Ed, Al, Winry and one of their remaining bodyguards had already gotten a train to the South. Lloyd couldn't follow them obviously, since everything important to Operations STRIX was still in Central itself, but Twilight had admitted that he felt like he'd let a great opportunity slip through his fingers when they left.

But Twilight had had an idea. Maes Hughes had been working with the Elric Brothers on their investigation, and so he decided that for once, he'd go and spy on Maes Hughes at his office, rather than have Hughes spy on him. Twilight had asked to borrow Franky's car, and to use it to allow him to monitor the Intelligence Office for a night while they waited for another car to come in.

"Five hours," Franky's eyes were affixed to the clock at the top of the room, showing it was almost midnight, "and he's still out using my car. Mr. Super Spy was supposed to call in every hour."

Twilight's plan had been to wait until Maes left the office, and then take advantage of his leaving to try and sneak in. Every hour, he'd call in to let Franky know what was happening from a nearby payphone so the calls couldn't be traced, just in case the military knew something was going on. Yet in the third hour, between 8:15 and 9:15, something had happened. The calls had stopped coming in. The different scenarios continued to play in his head. Had Hughes found him out? Had he been picked up by a military police officer? Had he skipped town with Franky's car?

"I just don't know what to do," the portly man sighed, before taking in another puff of his cigarette, and watching as the minute hand swung up to signify there were only ten minutes left in the hour, "I don't know what the h-"

RINGRING

"Finally," he coughed, and threw his hand to his phone. He pulled the phone off the handle so quickly it caused the receiver to fall over, and he placed it next to his head, "You have some explainin-"

"Shut up and listen," Twilight said. The man on the other side of the phone was panting, "I-"

"No, you shut up," Franky pointed back at the phone, "Do you know how long I've been having to wait for even the-"

"This is serious," Twilight cut back, "I'm at the night clinic on Seventh an-"

"You're in the hospital?" Franky felt his blood run cold. Damnit, now he felt bad. Twilight had likely gotten hurt pretty bad if he had to go to one of those. Normally, with a few small wounds he could just come to the shop and they'd be able to stitch him up and put some medicine in him to keep him going, "What happened to you?"

"Not to me," Twilight's voice was strained, "But Hughes got shot," Franky immediately wondered if Twilight and the Intelligence Officer had gotten into a fight, but quickly dismissed it, considering there would be no way that someone like Twilight would let a man he considered an enemy live if he could help it, "He was attacked by..."

"What?" Franky asked, his curiosity piqued, "Did the military turn on him? He turn traitor or something? Uncover some rock he shouldn't have?"

"I'd guess," in the background, Franky could hear the sound of a car rolling by. Despite everything, Twilight had been smart enough to probably go out to a public phone before making a call again, "I don't know what he found, he was still out when the Doctor finished stitching him up and they put the IV in, but," Twilight then stopped, "Wait, you are writing this down, right?"

"Oh shit," Franky growled, putting out his cigarette, and then grabbing for the pad of paper beneath his counter. Just as he had it, he knocked it over, and cursed to himself as he heard it hit the floor. He bent down to pick it up-

TINGLING

And while he was down there, he heard the bell over his front door ring. Someone had just come inside the door itself. For a second, Franky felt a rush of panic, but he calmed himself, before looking under the counter, and reaching for the pistol he carried there for emergencies. He picked up the pad in his left hand, and reached with his right toward the gun.

"You know," he said aloud, pulling himself back above the counter, "The closed sign means someth-"

And standing in the open front door was Fuhrer King Bradley. The older man was smiling at Franky holding the door barely open with his hand. Franky felt sweat begin to pour down his back. Slowly, he set down the pad on the countertop, and slowly reached his hand over to the phone sitting out. He reached it up to his face, all the while keeping his eyes on the Fuhrer and his hand concealed with the pistol.

"I'll call you back."

He then hung the phone back on the receiver. The Fuhrer's one visible eyebrow raised slightly as he looked at Franky, who shrugged to himself.

"What can I say," Franky admitted. He was so scared that he could barely keep seeing straight, but he did what he could to keep his eyes focused, "The girls love me."

"Of course they do," the Fuhrer remained standing in the doorway. Franky's eyes went down to the sword on the older man's waist, his mind racing to plan a way out,

'Should I just try and shoot him?' he asked himself, trying to see if the Fuhrer had another weapon besides the blade, 'He still needs to close, and if I can get him before he get's to me...,' Franky looked outside, 'I don't see any bodyguards,' but his mind was quick to take everything in, 'But he probably has this place surrounded if he's coming right now,' he felt his hand tighten around the gun, which he slowly raised up, still not revealing above the top of the counter, 'Need to see if I'm gonna have to take him down or I can get out of this.'

"So," Franky laughed, as the Fuhrer still just stood there, "What brings the Fuhrer out to my humble shop this late at night?" he undid the safety on the pistol as it rested in his hand, "I'm honored, but I wouldn't think a man like you would need a smoke this late."

"Actually, I don't smoke," the Fuhrer waved his hand, keeping the fatherly voice he maintained whenever he spoke in public. Franky had never liked that voice, and he had grown to hate it after he had gotten his leg blown off in one of Bradley's wars, "I did previously, but my wife hates the smell of the stuff," the cyclops's one eye was directly on Franky, "Rather I am here on an investigation into active sedition going on in my country."

'"I know you are a spy",' Franky filled in the blank. Still, even if he was dead, at least he'd try and give him some time.

"Then why have you come here?" Franky felt his glasses begin to fog up, the sweat beginning to steam them.

"Because," the Fuhrer reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a piece of thin metal. It was about a foot long, and only a centimeter or so thick. He tossed it, quite ably for a man his age and with only one eye, onto the counter top. Franky gave one last look down, and felt his blood run cold when he saw a license plate with the numbers 05252019.

That was his license plate number.

"I think we're going to have a bit of a cha-"

Franky pulled out the gun, aimed it at the Fuhrer.

And Bradley was gone.

And then Franky felt his neck erupt into pain. his left hand reached up, and he felt blood gushing from around his throat. He lost control of the pistol, having it drop from his hand and clatter to the floor. As he tried to keep himself upright, he blinked, and looked around, his attention finally turning behind him, to see Bradley standing behind the counter, returning his saber to the scabbard, blood dripping from the blade.

'Shit,' Franky lost control of his feet, and his head slammed against the top of the counter, 'He's fast.'

"Honestly, had it been a normal human," the Fuhrer continued, not even bothering to look back at Franky as he felt his life pouring from around his throat, "You might have actually been able to shoot me before I could get to you," the Fuhrer looked back into Franky's personal quarters, and the curly haired man couldn't help but curse at his growing helplessness, "Though, I suppose this is why when you want someone dead, you send someone you know will finish the job."

"Ack," was the best that Farnky could respond. He could feel his vision blur. He glared at the man who had ruined his life. Slowly, he reached his hand beneath the counter again. His free hand rubbed up against the back of the counter one last time, and he smiled as he felt the switch there. With one last bit of strength, he gave a smirk at the Fuhrer, and flipped the switch.

BOOM

The Fuhrer jumped backwards, again over Franky, as a small explosion happened in the back rooms. It was an emergency to cover up any evidence, but since he probably wasn't making it out, this was probably the best he could do. Still, he had hoped he might take the old man out with the bomb as well, but with how fas...

'God,' Franky thought, 'I can't see anymore.'

"Not bad," he heard Bradley's voice begin to disappear into the background, as everything got darker and darker, "Bombing so I can't find any more info about what you know...that makes things more difficult," and then, after a pause, Frank Franklin heard the last words he ever would.

"You humans can be so troublesome."

...Without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost.

That is the law of equivalent exchange.