A Step Closer To The Truth
Havoc made a small clicking sound with his tongue and sat down, facing the colonel. “I expected that we would just meet at the entrance of the Green Dragon, not waltz in it,” he hissed through his teeth.
“Relax, Havoc. You’re in civilian clothes, right?” Mustang’s deep voice was calm, almost nonchalant about the whole situation.
“That doesn’t mean anything. These guys,” and with that Havoc pointed at the thugs that were sitting on the other tables, practically surrounding them, “can smell military men a mile away.”
“As long as you act like one,” Roy said. “So just blend in, okay?”
Havoc huffed. He tried to do what the colonel advised him to, but it just didn’t seem possible. The Green Dragon was a place notorious for its fill of lowly underworld personas in Central and, naturally, everyone within those four walls despised every kind of authoritative figure of the State. If he and Mustang were discovered, then they would be lynched.
“What are we doing here anyway?” Havoc asked, lighting a cigarette in the hopes of hiding the nervousness in his voice.
“Gathering information and avoiding being overheard.”
“What do you mean?”
Roy didn’t answer him this time though. With a brief, discreet wave of the hand that told Havoc to stay silent for a while, Roy called one of the waiters.
“Yes?” the man said.
“I’m looking for some able-bodied men for a job I have.”
“Oh? Had something particular in mind?” the waiter asked, not in the least surprised at that strange request.
“It requires an alchemist too,” Roy said, making a face as though he was thinking. “They said I should talk to a man called Wilson about that.”
The waiter shook his head at this. “Sorry, you’re out of luck. I heard Wilson’s working for someone else.”
Roy acted surprised. “I see. Do you know who?”
The waiter shrugged. “Some dame; a real doll at that. That’s all I know about her though. She just came once, talked to Wilson and that’s it.”
Roy nodded in an absentminded manner. “Gotcha. Thanks.”
“No problem,” the waiter said, and he resumed with his work.
Havoc blinked, not really understanding what just happened. “Who’s Wilson?”
Roy smirked. “You should know. You and Beregond fought him when he kidnapped that Ishbalan kid.”
The lieutenant’s eyes widened slightly at this. “You tried to find out who employed him?”
“Yes.”
“So what now?” Havoc asked.
“Now we’re going to other matters,” Roy said seriously. “When you got back to Headquarters, did you hear about Connors?”
“Yeah, though it would be hard not to. The whole place was buzzing about it when I arrived,” Havoc answered. “That certainly explains why he didn’t get to spread the word about Beregond.”
“Yes. Pretty convenient.”
Something in the tone that Roy used made Havoc look at his superior quizzically. “What’s wrong?”
“Connors was poisoned.”
Havoc stared Roy incredulously. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. He died of arsenic poisoning,” Roy said. “And that’s not all. Fawcette is dead as well.”
At those words, Havoc immediately shook his head. “I don’t know where you got your information, but I’m afraid this time you have it wrong. Fawcette got transferred to the North. I heard of his departure a couple of hours ago.”
Roy raised an eyebrow. “Quite an amazing feat, considering the Fawcette I saw has been dead for at least twelve hours.”
Havoc felt that his jaw would drop on the floor. “H-how did you…?”
Roy gave the lieutenant such a look that Havoc stopped midway.
“Never mind. I’ll take your word for it.” He huffed out a puff of smoke in a dismayed manner. “Things are really starting to get out of hand, if you ask me. First it was the Lab 5 incident, now somebody is making sure Beregond isn’t discovered. I’m not complaining in the last case, but who would do that?”
“That’s simple enough to answer: somebody who is probably aware of Beregond’s nature.”
Havoc frowned. “Maybe. But how could anyone know?”
“Most likely from Syndow,” Roy said. “Connors sent him here by someone’s command a few days ago.”
“What? By whose orders?”
“If I knew, I would have told you already. But it’s probably the same somebody who thinks Beregond is more useful if he remains untouchable by any curious snoopers.”
“Do you think it has to do with that new thing Beregond can do with his alchemy?” Havoc asked before he could help it.
This time it was Roy who stared at Havoc in surprise. “What new thing?”
Havoc bit his lower lip briefly, clearly hesitating. “You know more about that stuff, so I’m not sure how big a deal it is. But Beregond doesn’t have to clap anymore to make something, the way the Chief does. He just waves his hand and… poof! Statues sprout off the ground in a jiffy.”
An enigmatic smile tugged on Roy’s lips. “Really?” He crossed his arms. “Yes… that could be it. In fact… As long as there are State Alchemists, the military can always make sure that the best of the bunch work on the research for the philosopher’s stone. First it was Marcoh; then Shou Tucker… who knows who’s going to be next? Personally, I’d definitely have Fullmetal and Beregond on my list of candidates.”
Havoc tensed. “What you are saying is that the two incidents are connected.”
“Exactly,” Roy said. “And there’s one link that connects them.”
Havoc blinked. “What?”
“Douglas.”
Havoc coughed as he suddenly choked on his cigarette smoke. “The Führer’s secretary?!”
“That would be her,” Roy said in the most natural tone there was. “It all makes sense. The waiter said that it was a woman that employed Wilson. It could only be a woman with a lot of power and connections so that the mercenaries would do their job without being noticed by the State; a woman who would be able to get her hands on the alchemists’ files and pick those that could be placed on the research for the philosopher’s stone; a woman whose orders Connors would be more than willing to obey and so have Syndow sent to Central. And, speaking of Connors, the late brigadier general died after drinking some tea which was supposedly meant for Bradley; but the only one who serves tea to the Führer is her. She had every opportunity to slip that poison in Connors’ cup, and it makes perfect sense that she asked the coroner not to let that kind of incriminating information go public.”
“But if that’s the case, don’t you think the Führer would have understood something was up? It’s his secretary we’re talking about!” Havoc exclaimed.
“I know.”
It was then that realisation caught up with Havoc.
“The… Führer…?” he breathed out. “Are you serious?!”
Roy’s expression showed that he was dead serious.
“True, there isn’t all that much tangible evidence like in Douglas’ case. Nevertheless, while Bradley can be ruled out as an accomplice to all this just as easily, there are also some facts which actually place him in a very key position in this conspiracy theory. He was the one who created the position of a State Alchemist by law, making it easy for the military to keep data on all alchemists. He was the one who gave the command to deploy State Alchemists in the battlefield of Ishbal, thus getting information on each one’s… potential. It was through Basque Grand, a man the Führer placed personally in charge of the research concerning the philosopher’s stone, that the first stones Marcoh created were used. He personally picked Douglas as his secretary, when no one else in Headquarters even heard of her. And, more importantly, he has the money that Douglas certainly needed to carry out some of her missions.”
“And he was the one that ordered us to silence about everything that’s been happening,” Havoc added, rubbing his temples as he felt a headache settling in. “Beregond’s words finally make sense now.”
“Indeed,” Roy said. “If I remember correctly, Dûrinas was an important man in Beregond’s world. He then turned out to be the worst traitor, trying to create a philosopher’s stone at the expense of others.”
Havoc nodded weakly, recalling the Gondorian’s story only too clearly. “And that means that Bradley is very likely trying to get his hands on the philosopher’s stone at the expense of State Alchemists.”
“Yes.”
“But what about those mercenaries? What could he possibly gain if he caused that kind of crisis in Central?”
“Lives.”
Havoc gasped. “What?”
“The sergeant and I concluded long ago that the basic materials for a philosopher’s stone are human lives,” Roy explained. “After Lab 5 was destroyed, Bradley had to get them through other means.”
Havoc wasn’t one to feel squeamish easily, but he couldn’t help but feel sick now. “So what happens now?” he managed to ask.
Surprisingly enough, Roy shook his head. “Nothing.”
Havoc blinked, taken aback. “Nothing?” he echoed in disbelief.
“As I said, these are mere theories. They are logical, they are probable, but theories nonetheless. The only thing we can do without arousing any suspicion is to dutifully obey our orders and be on our guard until we find something that proves us right.”
“What about Lieutenant Hughes and Major Armstrong? With all due respect, Boss, but at least these two should be informed that they’re probably taking orders from the enemy.”
“Remember, we should have something definite in our hands first,” Roy repeated. “However, you’re right. If there’s anyone we can trust from Central Headquarters when the time comes, it’s Hughes and Armstrong.”
“But then who are we gonna tell?”
“Hawkeye and the others. That’s all.”
It was then that something else registered within Havoc’s mind. “Speaking of which… Where’s Hawkeye?” he asked curiously, finally noting the woman’s absence.
“She’s gone to gather any information concerning Professor Syndow’s whereabouts. I had Hughes on it, but he got tangled elsewhere by the look of things.” Roy looked at his watch and immediately stood up. “There’s a telephone call I have to make right about now, so I must go.”
“Understood,” Havoc replied with a nod, rising from his chair also. “What would you have me do in the meantime?”
“Be at Central Station at 20.00,” the colonel answered. “That’s when Falman, Fuery and Breda will be arriving. Until then, if anybody asks, you don’t know anything.”
“Okay, Boss.”
The first phone-call Roy did was to Central Headquarters, where he was very sad to inform the Führer that he and his men had missed the train and they had to take the next one, which would reach Central quite late at night. Roy apologised for the inconvenience he might have caused with such a misfortune and asked the Führer if he could be so kind to put off their meeting till first thing in the morning. Bradley agreed with many a laugh – that man seemed to find everything funny - and even told Roy that he would make arrangements so that he could be expected and his men would be placed at the proper dorms for the night.
“Thank you, Sir. You’re only too kind,” Roy said cordially, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible. As soon as he hung up, he decided that he might as well make one more phone-call while at it.
“This is Knox.”
“And I’m a man of my word,” Roy replied.
“So I see,” Knox said. “Did you find your answers then?”
“I think so,” Roy answered truthfully. “Did anyone ask you about Fawcette?”
“No, which that in itself is quite odd.”
“Oh?” Roy asked, raising his eyebrow. “What else is odd?”
“There are tight rope marks around the man’s legs that clearly show that he got strapped; and that’s not all. Both ankles were dislocated as though someone pulled them downwards.”
Roy pursed his lips as a suspicion formed in his mind.
“Someone… or something. I didn’t get to tell you before, but the nurses that brought Fawcette in said that they found him in the sewage.”
“That explains it,” Knox said, his tone contemplative. “The murderer put a weight around Fawcette’s legs to make sure the body remained submerged.”
“But, apparently, the rope slipped of its place and now we got to know about Fawcette. That confirms what I found out.”
“Which is?”
“That whoever killed Fawcette made sure that the late lieutenant colonel wouldn’t be missed. In fact, according to info from inside Headquarters, everyone thinks he’s been transferred.”
“This isn’t good,” the doctor said grimly. “Three deaths in such quick succession can only mean that either the murderer is a maniac, or he wants to desperately hide something.”
“I’m afraid so,” Roy said with a sigh. “But we might have an advantage just yet. Did you tell anyone about the body?”
“No.”
At last, some hope, Roy thought relieved. “That means the murderer doesn’t know about his slip-up yet. Can you make sure that it stays that way?”
“Hmm… I’ve already stripped Fawcette off his uniform, so he’s just one tag away from being labelled ‘unknown’.”
“Good. Thanks.” And with that, Roy was about to hang up; but Knox’s voice stopped him midway.
“Mustang?”
“Yes?”
“I really hope you know what you’re doing – for both our sakes.”
“That’s why I’m planning on staying ahead of them,” Roy said and finally placed the receiver down.
When the train from East City whistled its arrival, every passenger that was on board came out and rushed to greet the people that had been expecting them. And soon, the place was filled with smiles and exchange of idle talk concerning the trip and how tiring it was or any other kind of news.
On the other hand, there were three men dressed in civilian that weren’t in the mood for any sort of happy talk.
“Oh, man… My back’s killing me,” said Falman, stretching himself after so many hours crammed in the train seat.
“I’m so sleepy I can barely keep my eyes open,” Breda said, rubbing his eyes.
“Hayate, not so hard!” Fuery moaned, trying to control an exuberant Hayate who kept tugging on his leash.
But Hayate didn’t want to calm down. He had been forced to remain inside that moving room for hours on end, and he had to take care of certain pent-up feelings now. In fact, the matter had become so urgent that Fuery was soon dragged outside the station and to the nearest lamp-post.
“Fuery! Quit fooling around!” Breda cried out.
“Coming,” replied Fuery, but that was easier said than done. Hayate didn’t seem willing to abandon the lamp-post just yet.
That is, until he picked up another scent; an all too familiar one. Breaking free from Fuery’s grip, he immediately hurried past the crowd that was surrounding him, and as soon as he caught sight of her, he screeched to an abrupt halt and barked happily.
Riza was still in her civilian’s clothing, even though she had got rid of the glasses and her hair was tied back once again. The moment she saw the dog, she smiled broadly and knelt down to pet him. “Did you have a good trip, Hayate?” she asked him affectionately. “You didn’t cause any trouble, I hope?”
“No trouble whatsoever, Lieutenant,” Fuery said at once, approaching the woman. In a matter of seconds, Breda and Falman appeared as well.
“Good to see you again, Lieutenant,” the warrant officer said.
“Are you here on your own?” the second lieutenant asked.
“I’m right here,” another voice sounded close to them and soon Roy was next to them, nodding his own greeting to the newcomers. Some of his grimness must have been visible in his countenance, because everyone looked at him quizzically.
“I take it your visit to your old friend didn’t go as planned?” Riza questioned, eyebrow raised ever so slightly.
“You could say that,” Roy answered with a slight nod. He looked around, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s Havoc?”
“Present!” Truly enough, Jean showed up from amid the crowd. “Sorry for the delay; too much traffic.”
“Better late than never,” Roy said. “Are we expected?”
“Not yet, from what I understood, Sir,” Havoc answered, smirking. “Somebody informed them that you were delayed.”
“I wonder who,” the Colonel replied dryly. He turned to everyone. “We should go, gentlemen. I know of a place where we can talk without being listened in on.”
Roy stopped his car and stepped out to check his surroundings. Though he could detect a couple of new houses here and there, the neighbourhood looked peaceful and pretty much isolated from the rest of Central, just as he had left it more than three years ago. His gaze locked on the house in front of which he had parked, scrutinising the small iron-gate that separated it from the rest of the buildings.
Still intact, he concluded. There was no sign that anyone might have broken in, so it was safe to use the place for his own ends. He signalled to Riza and Fuery to step out also and they complied instantly, Hayate following close to their heels.
“Have you seen where the others parked?” Roy asked Riza as soon as she came up to him.
“Around the corner, just as it was agreed on, Sir,” the woman answered.
“Good.”
“Sir, how did you know there was such a place?” asked Fuery, his eyes widened in wonder.
“I used to live in that house back at my old lieutenant colonel days,” Roy answered with a small smirk. “I rented it to an elderly couple in exchange to keep it clean for me while I was stationed in East City. Though it’s unfortunate that the husband died a couple of months ago and the woman moved in to her sister’s, this will work to our advantage.”
It was then that Havoc, Falman and Breda came up to the others, looking at the house also.
“Is that it?” Breda asked.
“Yeah,” Roy said. He took out of his pocket two keys and used one to open the iron-gate. “After you, gentlemen.”
In a few minutes, all the soldiers had gathered in the living room, listening to everything that Roy, Riza and Havoc had been up to so far. Havoc told of Lab 5 and the mercenaries, as well as the Führer’s interest in them. Roy, on the other hand, told of Connors and Fawcette’s deaths, as well as how they were connected to the events Havoc described. The three lower-ranking officers blanched at hearing that Bradley’s interest in the case was probably not as benign as it appeared at first.
Roy couldn’t blame them for that kind of reaction. After all, if it turned out that it was just them against the leader of this country and who knows how many officers supporting him… the outcome could prove quite ugly.
“Gentlemen… when I placed you in my unit, I chose you because you were prepared to share a certain goal with me. I realise that you were hoping that we wouldn’t have to reach to that goal so... violently. So I must ask you all a certain question: are you still with me?”
Everyone looked at each other for the briefest of moments; that was all the amount of time they needed in order for the same thought to cross their minds. They turned to Roy.
“Always, Sir!”
Roy couldn’t help but smile at that answer, because he realised that he had one important advantage against the Führer, if it came down to ever facing him. The loyalty of his men wasn’t based on deception and they would remain loyal to him no matter what.
“Thank you,” he said softly, yet he was certain his eyes reflected his gratitude. That earned from his men a small smile of their own.
But Roy knew that he had to carry on with their debriefing; so he cleared his throat and turned to Riza. “Did you find anything about Syndow?”
The woman nodded. “I managed to locate the soldiers that were escorting him while he was in Central. I say were, because the professor is no longer here. It seems that he travelled south to look at some ancient writings that were discovered during some excavations.”
Roy snorted. “And he got so excited about it that he forgot to inform his family.”
Falman frowned. “But if someone has really taken an interest in Beregond’s nature and the professor was sent South…”
“…There are more people involved,” Roy completed. He let out a huff and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is getting better and better,” he stated sarcastically.
“With all due respect, Sir, but I believe this is the least of our problems,” Breda said at that moment.
“What do you mean?”
“If the Führer is really involved as we speculate, then his command of silence about any of the events takes a whole different meaning. It is a warning.”
“A warning?” echoed Fuery before he could help it.
Roy crossed his arms. “Right… ‘Stay out of the way and you’ll live.’ He wanted to make sure no one else dug into the matter any further.”
It was then that Havoc’s eyes suddenly widened. “Wait…” he breathed out.
Everyone looked at him, certainly surprised at the state of shock that he seemed to be in now.
“What is it?” Roy asked.
Havoc swallowed hard. “While we were discussing things at the hospital, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes said that he would do some research on the ouroboros tattoo Ed and Al saw.”
Roy gasped before he could help it. “Did he say where he would search?” he asked quickly.
“I think it was at the tribunal,” Havoc answered.
“Damn it! That idiot!” Roy cried out. He frantically opened his watch to check the time inside. “Half past ten. He might be there doing his research,” he muttered under his breath and instantly stood up. “We must hurry; maybe it’s not too late yet.”
“Yes, Sir!” the others said at once and followed Roy out of the house.
TBC…
Subtitles
- Brother's Debt
- Fullmetal Body, Fullmetal Heart
- A Quiet Day
- In The Night
- Two Men's Faces
- Transfer
- Making Plans
- Shadows Of The Past
- Underworld
- The Price Of Immortality
- Departure
- The Key
- Enemy Revealed
- A Step Back
- A Step Closer To The Truth
- A Race
- Rush Valley
- Responsibility
- Izumi
- Time To Stand Still
- Wild Child
- Encounter
- Riddles In The Dark
- In Search For Answers
- A Teacher's Mistakes
- Complications
- Visits
- The Nature Of A Homunculus
- Dante Of The Deep Forest
- Kidnapped
- Fight At The Devil's Nest
- Innocence Lost
- Blood Spilt
- Recovering
- Bearers Of Ill News
- The Flame Alchemist
- True Colours
- Markings On The Ground
- The Mission
- Heading To Liore
- Change Of Plans
- The Scar
- Holy Mother
- A Mother's Face
- Final Moments