Two Men's Faces
The sound of a knock on the door woke him. He opened an eye, waiting to see if the knocking was just his imagination, only to close it again when he heard nothing. He had almost fallen asleep again, when the second knock on the door violently yanked him away from the land of dreams. Letting out a sigh, he forced himself out of bed and fumbled his way to the door, where his robe was hanging from a hook. It didn’t take a great mind to figure that it was very early in the morning – practically still night, in fact.
A third knock snapped him out of his musings.
“All right already,” he muttered under his breath. He scratched the back of his neck, his other hand combing his unruly hair in a more presentable state, and walked up to the door. “Yeah?” he called out.
“Breda.”
If Roy Mustang wasn’t alert before, he certainly became now. Snatching his ignition gloves from the small table nearby just to keep things on the safe side, he unlocked the door and opened it.
The second lieutenant was really in front of him; Roy could easily recognise his subordinate’s bulky form even in the darkness of pre-dawn.
“I take it it’s not good news,” he said, his eyes locking on Breda’s.
“I’m afraid so, Sir.”
Roy nodded. “Come in. Mind you, the coffee isn’t fresh.”
“In the state I’m in, Sir, that’s the least of my problems,” Breda replied. He took out his overcoat and, still holding it in his lap, he settled on a chair in the kitchen. “Connors doesn’t stay in one place, even for the night.”
“I’m not surprised. I hate to admit it, but Connors knows how to put all his energy where it matters,” Roy said. He grabbed two mugs and filled them with coffee before passing one to Breda; then sat down across the lieutenant. “Well?”
Breda’s answer came in the form of an envelope. “This is a copy of one particular death certificate from the last village Connors visited. According to the caretaker, Connors has one, too.”
Frowning, Roy took the envelope and opened it, unfolding the piece of paper that was inside. He instantly looked at the data that interested him the most.
“William Brice, male, unmarried, born 28th February 1875, died at the age of 27 of the plague, occupation archaeologist and birthplace…” Roy froze, looking closer at the paper. “Resembool.” He looked at Breda incredulously. “Is this correct?”
Breda nodded. “The caretaker said that he even knew the guy.”
“I see.” But, in truth, Roy was getting immersed in the paper as he read now all the data carefully, especially the place of death and the name of the informant who announced Brice’s death.
“Did you read it?” Roy asked Breda.
Breda nodded again. “Do you think the Elric boys are aware of this, Sir?”
Roy, however, shook his head. “I doubt it. If they were, I’d definitely tell.” Roy’s fingers started tapping the surface of the table as he thought matters carefully. “Do you have a picture?”
Breda took out a photograph out of his pocket and gave it to the colonel. “The last one. Connors got one, too.”
“Which means that we could be in trouble if we don’t act,” Roy replied, looking at the thoughtful face of the young man who seemed to simply stare back at him.
The same face that belonged to a Gondorian soldier from another world.
“And,” Ed continued, holding up the crude sketch of Envy he had made in a piece of paper, “just before I was knocked about by this guy again, Scar appeared, destroying the walls of the main hall.” He placed the paper down and turned once again to the others. “Then everything’s like a blur. I remember trying to get Al out; then you, Hughes; and afterwards the water.”
And there it was where he ended his story. Though Hughes, Armstrong, Havoc and Beregond had listened with utmost interest to everything the boys said, none of them spoke at once. Not that that was all that much of a surprise; what Ed said sounded almost too incredible.
Yet there was no denying that what he said was nothing but the truth.
In the end, it was Armstrong who broke the silence.
“Soul guardians… Shou Tucker alive… two Homunculi named Lust and Envy… and according to Marcoh’s notes, the red water is the origin of the red amplifiers.”
Ed looked at Armstrong incredulously. “You knew about them too?”
Armstrong nodded, an unusual expression of grimness settling on his face. “I had to use one, back at the Ishbal Massacre. All the State Alchemists did. But I doubt there was anyone who ever thought there would be so many mysteries concerning them.”
Maes looked at the other two sketches Ed made. “And then there’s the transmutation circle for creating the philosopher’s stone.” He straightened his glasses in discomfort. “This can’t be good.” He turned to Ed’s direction, but he noticed that both boys were looking at Beregond. The Gondorian had picked up the sketch with the ouroboros on it and was now examining it thoughtfully.
“What’s on your mind?” Al asked.
“Just thinking that I might have found another connection to my world,” Beregond answered with a sigh.
Armstrong and Maes quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, something that made Havoc, Ed and Al murmur in their direction: “Long story, we’ll tell you later.”
“This is like an image of an amlug; a serpent of great evil,” Beregond explained. “Back in the old days, Middle-earth was plagued by them. Some of them were wingless, but some had wings, just like this one. Nevertheless, all of them served one master: Sauron.”
Ed’s eyes widened as the young alchemist understood to what kind of connection Beregond was referring. “That’s right! Envy said they were told not to kill me!”
“Which means someone must be guiding them,” Maes mused aloud. He took the sketch from Beregond’s hands, casting a brief glance at it. “Something might pop up if I fish through the crime list at the tribunal.”
“I’ll do some investigating on any of Dr. Marcoh’s subordinates that probably participated on the research of the red stones,” Armstrong said, holding in his hand a list of several names. “That reminds me,” he added, facing Havoc and Beregond. “You two searched amid the rubble of Lab 5. Did you find anything?”
Ed and Al turned to the two men in question. Beregond had told them earlier that morning of his own adventure in Central, and they couldn’t help but feel intrigued.
But Havoc and Beregond’s answers weren’t hopeful.
“All we found was the transmutation circle on the floor,” the Gondorian said.
“And even if there were something else,” Havoc added, “those mercenaries probably made sure it’s gone now.”
Everyone fell silent at this news. They didn’t want to hear that at all.
What they did hear, however, was a very loud stomach growl that made them all turn to Edward’s direction. Ed’s face turned crimson and he shuffled his legs.
“Yeah…” he said softly. “I’m kind of hungry…”
“Come to think of it, I could use some food as well,” Beregond said then, rubbing his own stomach. “May I be excused till I get something from the canteen?”
Armstrong and Hughes chuckled. “Yeah, go ahead. Just bring something for us too!” Maes said with a broad smile.
“Of course,” Beregond answered, and got ready to walk out the door.
“Wait!” Havoc suddenly exclaimed. “I’m coming with you! I mean… you’ll need some help to carry all the stuff.”
Beregond frowned, but something reflected in Havoc’s eyes made him understand that he had to indulge the lieutenant.
“Sure,” he said, smiling.
And with that, the two men exited. After saluting Lieutenant Ross and Sergeant Bloch, who guarded the door, they went down the hallway.
It was when they turned around the corner that Beregond noticed a silly grin on Havoc’s face.
“By that look I can safely assume something very good happened,” the Gondorian noted, a mischievous smile tugging on his lips.
“Good hardly cuts it,” Havoc said, still grinning. “I saw Sarah and Alice yesterday.”
Beregond’s face lit up. “You did?” But, at the next moment, his eyes widened in realisation. “Don’t tell me! You and Sarah…?”
Havoc nodded, always grinning.
Beregond instantly stopped in his tracks, eyes locked on Havoc. “You actually…?”
“No… But I realised what she means to me,” Havoc answered.
“That’s great!” the Gondorian exclaimed. He nudged the lieutenant. “So when is the wedding?”
“Beregond!” Havoc said, punching the sergeant on the arm. “You, of all people!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Beregond said, lifting his palms in a gesture of peace. “But seriously… do you consider it?”
Havoc didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yeah. But it’s still early. I mean, I’m stationed in East City and she’s here.”
Beregond nodded his understanding. “That’s true. I wouldn’t worry though. If both your feelings are strong enough, you’ll be able to come up with a solution.”
“I hope so,” Havoc said.
Beregond couldn’t help but smile, because it had just become obvious to the Gondorian that Havoc did have such powerful feelings for Sarah. That thought was pushed aside, however, because at that moment he noticed the sign that signified the direction of the canteen.
But he never had the chance to take a step further, for the two soldiers came face to face with Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette, and he wasn’t alone. He was accompanied by two privates, who made sure their guns were visible to Beregond and Havoc.
Fawcette smiled in triumph at Beregond. “There are two ways we can do this, Sergeant. You either come quietly and without much fuss or… well, it won’t be pretty. Choose.”
Meanwhile, outside Ed’s room, Ross and Bloch were still standing guard. However, that didn’t stop from young Bloch to start a conversation with the second lieutenant.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” he asked. “From the sound of things, it could be something pretty serious.”
Ross, however, shook her head. “I don’t want to get involved in any more dangerous business, so I don’t think anything,” she answered with finality.
“Oh, you people,” a voice said seemingly out of nowhere. “Is this the Fullmetal Alchemist’s room?”
Ross and Bloch turned to the direction the voice sounded. “Yeah,” Ross replied. “It’s over this…”
But neither Ross nor Bloch managed to finish their sentence, because they had become too stunned. They could only stare incredulously as the Führer entered the room.
That was the same reaction Hughes, Armstrong and the Elric Brothers had when they saw him.
“Sir?!” they finally exclaimed.
Führer Bradley waved his hand dismissively. “Do be quiet please, such a commotion is unnecessary.”
“But, Sir, why did you come here?” Maes asked, still unable to believe his eyes.
“Why, to drop off a get-well present,” Bradley answered as if he was stating the most natural thing in the world. Sure enough, he walked up to Ed and gave him a bag with a melon inside.
“Err… thank you…” Ed stuttered.
“What’s the problem?” the Führer asked, the eyebrow under the string of his eye-patch quirking. “You don’t like melons?”
Ed looked as though he wanted to scream: “THAT’S NOT THE PROBLEM HERE!”
But the Führer didn’t seem to notice. He merely looked at each and everyone that happened to be present in the room. “I must say that I consider it quite fortunate that I found you all here,” he said, first casting a glance at Armstrong. “It seems that you’ve done a bit of investigating these last couple of days. In search of two missing soldiers, I believe?”
To say that Armstrong was startled would have been an understatement. He looked at the Führer with eyes widened. “How did you…?”
A corner of Bradley’s lips tugged to a half-smile. “Don’t take my intelligence network lightly. And now we come to you, Edward Elric,” he said, his only eye scrutinising the young alchemist. “The philosopher’s stone was it?” If he ever paid heed to Ed’s flinching at those words, he didn’t show it. “How much do you know?”
Nobody spoke.
And then, the most unexpected sound filled the room: the sound of laughter. The Führer’s laughter.
“I was only kidding! No need to be so defensive!” he said, still laughing.
Everyone looked at him with an expression that reflected how many of their brain-cells got fried at seeing the most powerful man in all of Amestris acting like a teen.
However, Bradley was far from finished. In fact, he had become quite sober as he said: “Needless to say that I’m aware of the seriousness of the situation that nearly jeopardised the citizens’ safety here in Central city. As I also know that I owe most of my thanks to a certain Sergeant Beregond and a Lieutenant Jean Havoc for putting a stop to those mercenaries’ schemes. They work under Colonel Roy Mustang like you, isn’t that right, Major Elric?”
“Um… yes, Sir,” Ed answered.
Bradley smiled. “They will be happy then to know what great service they provided the Colonel. After all, I always reward officers with such an excellent crew.”
Maes’ eyes narrowed slightly, understanding perfectly well what the Führer was implying. Roy had just got his transfer.
“But I was told that they would be here,” Bradley said then, looking around as though searching for them. “Did I miss them?”
“They’ll be back shortly, Sir,” Armstrong answered.
“Ah! Excellent. You don’t mind my waiting for them now, do you?”
None did. Then again, no one would have dared to say that they did.
“Oh!” Bradley exclaimed, his good eye catching sight of the list of names on the table nearby. He picked it up and examined it carefully. “A list of the names of those who worked on the research on the philosopher’s stone.”
“You know of that, Sir?” Armstrong asked incredulously.
“Of course! I’ve investigated this matter quite thoroughly myself, in fact. I’m afraid to say that all of these peoples’ current whereabouts are unknown. They disappeared a few days before the incident at the laboratory.” He didn’t pay attention to the gasping sounds as he continued on. “Yes, I’m afraid the enemy is always one step ahead of us. Even with my intelligence network, we presently know nothing of the objectives or how far the enemy has penetrated.”
“In other words,” Maes ventured, “to conduct a research would be dangerous?”
“Yes. Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, Major Armstrong, Elric Brothers… I have judged that you are worthy of being trusted, so I will have to order on your discretion. And I will have to give the same command to…”
It was then that the door opened with a loud bang, and Havoc rushed in. He was greatly agitated, everyone could tell that. Havoc, on the other hand, could only stare when the first thing the lieutenant caught sight of was the Führer.
“S-sir?” he stammered, his eyes widened.
“At ease, soldier,” Bradley said calmly. His good eye examined Havoc from head to toe. “Second Lieutenant, I see. And by the description I was given I can safely assume you’re Jean Havoc.”
“Yes, Sir,” Havoc answered, swallowing hard.
By that time, Ed and Al had noticed something else; something that they didn’t like at all.
“Where’s Beregond?” Al asked, his voice full of worry.
Havoc bit his lower lips in hesitation before replying: “Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette has just placed him under arrest for actions against the State.”
“WHAT?!”
It was Ed who screamed that, his face contorted in wrath. But his wrath was quickly changed into apprehension as Bradley raised his hand as a sign for him to quiet down.
“Did Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette name those actions?”
“No, Sir,” Havoc said. “But, Sir, whatever Sergeant Beregond is blamed for, it can’t be true!”
“It certainly contradicts with what I’ve been hearing about the Sergeant so far. Hmm…” Bradley didn’t speak for a few moments, clearly lost in thought. “Then obviously this must be some sort of misunderstanding. I’ll have this matter cleared in no time. Rest assured.”
And then there were more noises heard from the hallway.
“Sir! Where are you?”
Bradley made a face as though he was caught red-handed in doing something very wrong.
“Looks like my annoying subordinates have come after me. The consequences for sneaking out of work.” Without missing a beat, he opened the window and jumped outside. Luckily for him, the room was on the ground floor, and so, at the next instant, he was walking away carefree as though nothing had happened.
“Farewell!” he said, his body posture proud as it fit a war-hardened soldier. “We shall meet again!”
The only thing that the others could do was watch him go, their jaws - even Al’s metal one - was ready to drop. And that was how Winry found them all as she walked in after her call to Pinako, oblivious to everything that had happened.
And yet, by the face Ed had, she somehow knew that her trip back to Resembool would have to be postponed for the time being.
The train still travelled at great speed, its engines roaring and the landscape whooshing by in a blink of an eye. Yet the passengers hardly paid heed to it, being accustomed at such a way of travelling. So, everyone was either reading their newspapers or talking to their fellow traveller, whereas others were taking a small a nap.
However, Brigadier General Connors, who was on his way to Central in the company of two lieutenants so as to find the Führer and inform him of the discoveries he’s done, was simply lost in thought. That was the reason that he didn’t hear the conductor calling his name the first time. At the second time, he snapped his head up as though he had woken from some bizarre dream-like state.
“Yes?”
“There’s been a call from you. A certain Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette wishes to speak with you.”
Connors’ eyes widened slightly at this. “Very well. Show me the way.”
The conductor did. After placing his escorts by the door as guards, the brigadier general entered the small booth and picked up the receiver. “What news?”
“The ape has just been placed in his cage, Sir,” Fawcette said, his grim satisfaction evident even at the tone of his voice. “And I have all the charges I need to keep him there till you arrive.”
“Good,” Connors said, grinning cruelly. “I’m just nine hours away from Central; expect me at about 5 o’clock this afternoon. Meanwhile, here’s what I want you to find out from him…”
And Connors started giving his instructions one by one, while Fawcette listened carefully.
TBC…
A third knock snapped him out of his musings.
“All right already,” he muttered under his breath. He scratched the back of his neck, his other hand combing his unruly hair in a more presentable state, and walked up to the door. “Yeah?” he called out.
“Breda.”
If Roy Mustang wasn’t alert before, he certainly became now. Snatching his ignition gloves from the small table nearby just to keep things on the safe side, he unlocked the door and opened it.
The second lieutenant was really in front of him; Roy could easily recognise his subordinate’s bulky form even in the darkness of pre-dawn.
“I take it it’s not good news,” he said, his eyes locking on Breda’s.
“I’m afraid so, Sir.”
Roy nodded. “Come in. Mind you, the coffee isn’t fresh.”
“In the state I’m in, Sir, that’s the least of my problems,” Breda replied. He took out his overcoat and, still holding it in his lap, he settled on a chair in the kitchen. “Connors doesn’t stay in one place, even for the night.”
“I’m not surprised. I hate to admit it, but Connors knows how to put all his energy where it matters,” Roy said. He grabbed two mugs and filled them with coffee before passing one to Breda; then sat down across the lieutenant. “Well?”
Breda’s answer came in the form of an envelope. “This is a copy of one particular death certificate from the last village Connors visited. According to the caretaker, Connors has one, too.”
Frowning, Roy took the envelope and opened it, unfolding the piece of paper that was inside. He instantly looked at the data that interested him the most.
“William Brice, male, unmarried, born 28th February 1875, died at the age of 27 of the plague, occupation archaeologist and birthplace…” Roy froze, looking closer at the paper. “Resembool.” He looked at Breda incredulously. “Is this correct?”
Breda nodded. “The caretaker said that he even knew the guy.”
“I see.” But, in truth, Roy was getting immersed in the paper as he read now all the data carefully, especially the place of death and the name of the informant who announced Brice’s death.
“Did you read it?” Roy asked Breda.
Breda nodded again. “Do you think the Elric boys are aware of this, Sir?”
Roy, however, shook his head. “I doubt it. If they were, I’d definitely tell.” Roy’s fingers started tapping the surface of the table as he thought matters carefully. “Do you have a picture?”
Breda took out a photograph out of his pocket and gave it to the colonel. “The last one. Connors got one, too.”
“Which means that we could be in trouble if we don’t act,” Roy replied, looking at the thoughtful face of the young man who seemed to simply stare back at him.
The same face that belonged to a Gondorian soldier from another world.
“And,” Ed continued, holding up the crude sketch of Envy he had made in a piece of paper, “just before I was knocked about by this guy again, Scar appeared, destroying the walls of the main hall.” He placed the paper down and turned once again to the others. “Then everything’s like a blur. I remember trying to get Al out; then you, Hughes; and afterwards the water.”
And there it was where he ended his story. Though Hughes, Armstrong, Havoc and Beregond had listened with utmost interest to everything the boys said, none of them spoke at once. Not that that was all that much of a surprise; what Ed said sounded almost too incredible.
Yet there was no denying that what he said was nothing but the truth.
In the end, it was Armstrong who broke the silence.
“Soul guardians… Shou Tucker alive… two Homunculi named Lust and Envy… and according to Marcoh’s notes, the red water is the origin of the red amplifiers.”
Ed looked at Armstrong incredulously. “You knew about them too?”
Armstrong nodded, an unusual expression of grimness settling on his face. “I had to use one, back at the Ishbal Massacre. All the State Alchemists did. But I doubt there was anyone who ever thought there would be so many mysteries concerning them.”
Maes looked at the other two sketches Ed made. “And then there’s the transmutation circle for creating the philosopher’s stone.” He straightened his glasses in discomfort. “This can’t be good.” He turned to Ed’s direction, but he noticed that both boys were looking at Beregond. The Gondorian had picked up the sketch with the ouroboros on it and was now examining it thoughtfully.
“What’s on your mind?” Al asked.
“Just thinking that I might have found another connection to my world,” Beregond answered with a sigh.
Armstrong and Maes quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, something that made Havoc, Ed and Al murmur in their direction: “Long story, we’ll tell you later.”
“This is like an image of an amlug; a serpent of great evil,” Beregond explained. “Back in the old days, Middle-earth was plagued by them. Some of them were wingless, but some had wings, just like this one. Nevertheless, all of them served one master: Sauron.”
Ed’s eyes widened as the young alchemist understood to what kind of connection Beregond was referring. “That’s right! Envy said they were told not to kill me!”
“Which means someone must be guiding them,” Maes mused aloud. He took the sketch from Beregond’s hands, casting a brief glance at it. “Something might pop up if I fish through the crime list at the tribunal.”
“I’ll do some investigating on any of Dr. Marcoh’s subordinates that probably participated on the research of the red stones,” Armstrong said, holding in his hand a list of several names. “That reminds me,” he added, facing Havoc and Beregond. “You two searched amid the rubble of Lab 5. Did you find anything?”
Ed and Al turned to the two men in question. Beregond had told them earlier that morning of his own adventure in Central, and they couldn’t help but feel intrigued.
But Havoc and Beregond’s answers weren’t hopeful.
“All we found was the transmutation circle on the floor,” the Gondorian said.
“And even if there were something else,” Havoc added, “those mercenaries probably made sure it’s gone now.”
Everyone fell silent at this news. They didn’t want to hear that at all.
What they did hear, however, was a very loud stomach growl that made them all turn to Edward’s direction. Ed’s face turned crimson and he shuffled his legs.
“Yeah…” he said softly. “I’m kind of hungry…”
“Come to think of it, I could use some food as well,” Beregond said then, rubbing his own stomach. “May I be excused till I get something from the canteen?”
Armstrong and Hughes chuckled. “Yeah, go ahead. Just bring something for us too!” Maes said with a broad smile.
“Of course,” Beregond answered, and got ready to walk out the door.
“Wait!” Havoc suddenly exclaimed. “I’m coming with you! I mean… you’ll need some help to carry all the stuff.”
Beregond frowned, but something reflected in Havoc’s eyes made him understand that he had to indulge the lieutenant.
“Sure,” he said, smiling.
And with that, the two men exited. After saluting Lieutenant Ross and Sergeant Bloch, who guarded the door, they went down the hallway.
It was when they turned around the corner that Beregond noticed a silly grin on Havoc’s face.
“By that look I can safely assume something very good happened,” the Gondorian noted, a mischievous smile tugging on his lips.
“Good hardly cuts it,” Havoc said, still grinning. “I saw Sarah and Alice yesterday.”
Beregond’s face lit up. “You did?” But, at the next moment, his eyes widened in realisation. “Don’t tell me! You and Sarah…?”
Havoc nodded, always grinning.
Beregond instantly stopped in his tracks, eyes locked on Havoc. “You actually…?”
“No… But I realised what she means to me,” Havoc answered.
“That’s great!” the Gondorian exclaimed. He nudged the lieutenant. “So when is the wedding?”
“Beregond!” Havoc said, punching the sergeant on the arm. “You, of all people!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Beregond said, lifting his palms in a gesture of peace. “But seriously… do you consider it?”
Havoc didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yeah. But it’s still early. I mean, I’m stationed in East City and she’s here.”
Beregond nodded his understanding. “That’s true. I wouldn’t worry though. If both your feelings are strong enough, you’ll be able to come up with a solution.”
“I hope so,” Havoc said.
Beregond couldn’t help but smile, because it had just become obvious to the Gondorian that Havoc did have such powerful feelings for Sarah. That thought was pushed aside, however, because at that moment he noticed the sign that signified the direction of the canteen.
But he never had the chance to take a step further, for the two soldiers came face to face with Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette, and he wasn’t alone. He was accompanied by two privates, who made sure their guns were visible to Beregond and Havoc.
Fawcette smiled in triumph at Beregond. “There are two ways we can do this, Sergeant. You either come quietly and without much fuss or… well, it won’t be pretty. Choose.”
Meanwhile, outside Ed’s room, Ross and Bloch were still standing guard. However, that didn’t stop from young Bloch to start a conversation with the second lieutenant.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” he asked. “From the sound of things, it could be something pretty serious.”
Ross, however, shook her head. “I don’t want to get involved in any more dangerous business, so I don’t think anything,” she answered with finality.
“Oh, you people,” a voice said seemingly out of nowhere. “Is this the Fullmetal Alchemist’s room?”
Ross and Bloch turned to the direction the voice sounded. “Yeah,” Ross replied. “It’s over this…”
But neither Ross nor Bloch managed to finish their sentence, because they had become too stunned. They could only stare incredulously as the Führer entered the room.
That was the same reaction Hughes, Armstrong and the Elric Brothers had when they saw him.
“Sir?!” they finally exclaimed.
Führer Bradley waved his hand dismissively. “Do be quiet please, such a commotion is unnecessary.”
“But, Sir, why did you come here?” Maes asked, still unable to believe his eyes.
“Why, to drop off a get-well present,” Bradley answered as if he was stating the most natural thing in the world. Sure enough, he walked up to Ed and gave him a bag with a melon inside.
“Err… thank you…” Ed stuttered.
“What’s the problem?” the Führer asked, the eyebrow under the string of his eye-patch quirking. “You don’t like melons?”
Ed looked as though he wanted to scream: “THAT’S NOT THE PROBLEM HERE!”
But the Führer didn’t seem to notice. He merely looked at each and everyone that happened to be present in the room. “I must say that I consider it quite fortunate that I found you all here,” he said, first casting a glance at Armstrong. “It seems that you’ve done a bit of investigating these last couple of days. In search of two missing soldiers, I believe?”
To say that Armstrong was startled would have been an understatement. He looked at the Führer with eyes widened. “How did you…?”
A corner of Bradley’s lips tugged to a half-smile. “Don’t take my intelligence network lightly. And now we come to you, Edward Elric,” he said, his only eye scrutinising the young alchemist. “The philosopher’s stone was it?” If he ever paid heed to Ed’s flinching at those words, he didn’t show it. “How much do you know?”
Nobody spoke.
And then, the most unexpected sound filled the room: the sound of laughter. The Führer’s laughter.
“I was only kidding! No need to be so defensive!” he said, still laughing.
Everyone looked at him with an expression that reflected how many of their brain-cells got fried at seeing the most powerful man in all of Amestris acting like a teen.
However, Bradley was far from finished. In fact, he had become quite sober as he said: “Needless to say that I’m aware of the seriousness of the situation that nearly jeopardised the citizens’ safety here in Central city. As I also know that I owe most of my thanks to a certain Sergeant Beregond and a Lieutenant Jean Havoc for putting a stop to those mercenaries’ schemes. They work under Colonel Roy Mustang like you, isn’t that right, Major Elric?”
“Um… yes, Sir,” Ed answered.
Bradley smiled. “They will be happy then to know what great service they provided the Colonel. After all, I always reward officers with such an excellent crew.”
Maes’ eyes narrowed slightly, understanding perfectly well what the Führer was implying. Roy had just got his transfer.
“But I was told that they would be here,” Bradley said then, looking around as though searching for them. “Did I miss them?”
“They’ll be back shortly, Sir,” Armstrong answered.
“Ah! Excellent. You don’t mind my waiting for them now, do you?”
None did. Then again, no one would have dared to say that they did.
“Oh!” Bradley exclaimed, his good eye catching sight of the list of names on the table nearby. He picked it up and examined it carefully. “A list of the names of those who worked on the research on the philosopher’s stone.”
“You know of that, Sir?” Armstrong asked incredulously.
“Of course! I’ve investigated this matter quite thoroughly myself, in fact. I’m afraid to say that all of these peoples’ current whereabouts are unknown. They disappeared a few days before the incident at the laboratory.” He didn’t pay attention to the gasping sounds as he continued on. “Yes, I’m afraid the enemy is always one step ahead of us. Even with my intelligence network, we presently know nothing of the objectives or how far the enemy has penetrated.”
“In other words,” Maes ventured, “to conduct a research would be dangerous?”
“Yes. Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, Major Armstrong, Elric Brothers… I have judged that you are worthy of being trusted, so I will have to order on your discretion. And I will have to give the same command to…”
It was then that the door opened with a loud bang, and Havoc rushed in. He was greatly agitated, everyone could tell that. Havoc, on the other hand, could only stare when the first thing the lieutenant caught sight of was the Führer.
“S-sir?” he stammered, his eyes widened.
“At ease, soldier,” Bradley said calmly. His good eye examined Havoc from head to toe. “Second Lieutenant, I see. And by the description I was given I can safely assume you’re Jean Havoc.”
“Yes, Sir,” Havoc answered, swallowing hard.
By that time, Ed and Al had noticed something else; something that they didn’t like at all.
“Where’s Beregond?” Al asked, his voice full of worry.
Havoc bit his lower lips in hesitation before replying: “Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette has just placed him under arrest for actions against the State.”
“WHAT?!”
It was Ed who screamed that, his face contorted in wrath. But his wrath was quickly changed into apprehension as Bradley raised his hand as a sign for him to quiet down.
“Did Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette name those actions?”
“No, Sir,” Havoc said. “But, Sir, whatever Sergeant Beregond is blamed for, it can’t be true!”
“It certainly contradicts with what I’ve been hearing about the Sergeant so far. Hmm…” Bradley didn’t speak for a few moments, clearly lost in thought. “Then obviously this must be some sort of misunderstanding. I’ll have this matter cleared in no time. Rest assured.”
And then there were more noises heard from the hallway.
“Sir! Where are you?”
Bradley made a face as though he was caught red-handed in doing something very wrong.
“Looks like my annoying subordinates have come after me. The consequences for sneaking out of work.” Without missing a beat, he opened the window and jumped outside. Luckily for him, the room was on the ground floor, and so, at the next instant, he was walking away carefree as though nothing had happened.
“Farewell!” he said, his body posture proud as it fit a war-hardened soldier. “We shall meet again!”
The only thing that the others could do was watch him go, their jaws - even Al’s metal one - was ready to drop. And that was how Winry found them all as she walked in after her call to Pinako, oblivious to everything that had happened.
And yet, by the face Ed had, she somehow knew that her trip back to Resembool would have to be postponed for the time being.
The train still travelled at great speed, its engines roaring and the landscape whooshing by in a blink of an eye. Yet the passengers hardly paid heed to it, being accustomed at such a way of travelling. So, everyone was either reading their newspapers or talking to their fellow traveller, whereas others were taking a small a nap.
However, Brigadier General Connors, who was on his way to Central in the company of two lieutenants so as to find the Führer and inform him of the discoveries he’s done, was simply lost in thought. That was the reason that he didn’t hear the conductor calling his name the first time. At the second time, he snapped his head up as though he had woken from some bizarre dream-like state.
“Yes?”
“There’s been a call from you. A certain Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette wishes to speak with you.”
Connors’ eyes widened slightly at this. “Very well. Show me the way.”
The conductor did. After placing his escorts by the door as guards, the brigadier general entered the small booth and picked up the receiver. “What news?”
“The ape has just been placed in his cage, Sir,” Fawcette said, his grim satisfaction evident even at the tone of his voice. “And I have all the charges I need to keep him there till you arrive.”
“Good,” Connors said, grinning cruelly. “I’m just nine hours away from Central; expect me at about 5 o’clock this afternoon. Meanwhile, here’s what I want you to find out from him…”
And Connors started giving his instructions one by one, while Fawcette listened carefully.
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