Transfer
When Roy arrived in Eastern Headquarters with Second Lieutenant Breda, he was surprised to meet Lieutenant General Grumman there. The old officer was very happy to see the young Colonel; for, as he said, he really wanted to enjoy a game of chess with him.
Roy was still troubled by Breda’s discovery, of course. However, he also knew Grumman quite well. When the Lieutenant General came to meet him personally, there was also a very important matter which needed discussion. That was why, after dismissing Breda, he followed Grumman to the older man’s office.
A quarter of an hour later, the game had progressed quite a lot. Still, Grumman didn’t say anything about the reason for Roy’s presence in his office just yet. Roy was a patient man, though, and he knew that his patience would be rewarded sooner or later.
“I have some interesting news for you,” Grumman said then, moving another one of his chess pieces.
“Oh?” Roy said, keeping his eyes on the game.
“I received an order for your transfer to Central a couple of hours ago. You’re to start working there in two days’ time.”
“I see.” Roy crossed his arms as he became lost in thought. “That’s rather sudden, I must say.”
“From what I gathered, King Bradley was impressed by two of your subordinates – a sergeant and a second lieutenant.”
Roy nodded, and he made a mental note to thank Havoc and Beregond at first chance.
“It’ll be lonely here,” Grumman continued on. “You’ve been quite interesting.”
This was the first time since the conversation started that Roy allowed himself a small smile. “Not as much as your stories of when you were young.”
Grumman chuckled. “Well, when I was a young officer it was so…”
It was then that Roy moved one of his knights; a move that Grumman certainly didn’t expect, because he remained staring at the chess-board in surprise.
“Got you there, Lieutenant General,” Roy said with a smirk.
“Hmm.” Grumman looked at each of his pieces in deep thought, until he finally moved a pawn forward. “Thanks to your hard work, you also made my job easier.”
“I, too, was able to learn a lot from the work you gave me here,” Roy replied, quickly taking the pawn with one of his bishops. “I really appreciate it, Lieutenant General.”
Grumman didn’t answer at once, clearly contemplating his options before making his next move. “The bad thing is that Brigadier General Hakuro will be replacing you. I don’t like him; he’s too stern.”
“You know how most of the brigadier generals are. I wish you good luck.” And with that, Roy moved his queen, a look of triumph on his face. “Checkmate.”
“Ah!” Grumman could only stare at the board with eyes widened before exclaiming excitedly: “I finally lost!”
“I finally beat you,” Roy said, his smiling broadening.
“This is special,” Grumman declared, taking out of his pocket a small journal. “So that makes it a total of 1 win, 97 losses and 15 draws.”
“I’ll gladly take that win,” Roy said. He started picking up the pieces and placing them inside the board; whereas Grumman stood up, a broad smile on his face as well.
“Talking about special, would you take my granddaughter as your wife? She’ll become the future Führer’s wife, after all.”
But Roy shook his head. “Don’t think too much ahead, Lieutenant General.” He stood up and got ready to leave, but then he suddenly stopped in his tracks as though remembering something. “Talking about special, I have several more subordinates that I want with me in Central.”
Grumman smiled, handing Roy his chess-board. “Of course. Take them.”
“You have my thanks.”
And with that, Roy saluted the lieutenant general and walked out. When he entered his office, Riza was already waiting for him, her expression business-like.
“You’re late,” she noted.
“Got held up,” replied Roy. “Any news so far?”
“Lieutenant Havoc called just a quarter of an hour ago,” Riza said. “Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette arrested Sergeant Beregond.”
Roy pursed his lips. “I see. And, to make matters worse, Connors found what he had been looking for.”
“Did Lieutenant Breda say that, Sir?”
“Yeah.” Roy’s brows creased to a frown. “Things are turning for the worse.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Riza asked.
“Maybe,” Roy said. “Call the others. I have something to announce.”
Riza nodded her acknowledgement saluted courteously before exiting. As for Mustang, he sat behind his desk and knitted his fingers as he became lost in thought.
“Sir, we brought the suspect,” one of the privates said, saluting Fawcette. As for the lieutenant colonel himself, he was sitting behind his desk, his back resting against his chair, a smug look crossing his sharp features.
“Very well. Bring him here,” he said.
The private nodded signalled to someone outside. A few moments later, a couple more privates walked in, escorting a very angry-looking Beregond.
“I bet you don’t like this situation, do you, Sergeant?” Fawcette asked, his gaze drifting on the man’s handcuffs. Yes, the sight was quite gratifying indeed.
“I certainly don’t,” Beregond said in a low, dismayed tone. “Aren’t you tired of arresting me all the time? Because, personally, I’ve grown sick of it.”
Fawcette snorted. “Still acting high and mighty, I see. It’s a pity that there are none of your friends here to save your ass this time.”
“Yes, a pity that they can’t see you making a fool of yourself again.”
It was then that Fawcette lost his own temper. He banged his hand on the desk with such force that the privates flinched. Beregond, however, still remained glaring at the lieutenant colonel, fingers twitching.
“THE ONLY FOOL IN THIS ROOM IS YOU!” the lieutenant colonel shouted at the top of his voice. “Or did you think we wouldn’t find out about you eventually?”
Beregond’s eyes widened in surprise. “Find out what?” he asked.
Fawcette smirked in satisfaction. “I’m talking about your real name, Sergeant. Or should I say… William Brice?”
Beregond’s surprise vanished at once to be replaced by an expression of incredulity. A snort of laughter escaped his lips. “You’ve finally lost it,” he declared, not caring about cordiality towards this higher-ranking officer.
“Or maybe I’m finally seeing through you,” Fawcette said coldly. “You know that I’ve been searching for any information about you, that’s no secret. Just like you know that I came up with nothing. But how could anyone leave no traces of his existence, not even so much as a birth certificate, and still be here before me? It’s not possible.
“Unless… that person is no longer among the living.”
Beregond raised an eyebrow. “So now you think I’m a ghost?”
“Hardly,” Fawcette answered with a sneer. “More like someone who staged his own death.”
“Even if I am who you claim, why would I do a thing like that?” Beregond asked.
“That’s what I want you to answer me.”
“How am I to do that?!” Beregond exclaimed. “I’m not even that man!”
“There’s proof that says otherwise, Sergeant!”
“I’d like to see that proof!” Beregond exclaimed angrily.
“It’s on its way, don’t you worry about that!” Fawcette shouted back.
Before the Gondorian had any chance to reply to that, there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” Fawcette said edgily.
The door opened and a woman walked in. Fawcette instantly tensed and saluted, an action quickly followed by the other privates as well. The only one who didn’t react the way he was supposed to was the sergeant; he was merely looking at the woman with mild interest and curiosity.
So he doesn’t know her.
“Miss Douglas… That’s certainly a surprise,” Fawcette said. “May I help you?”
“As a matter of fact, you can,” Douglas answered, her face expressionless. To Fawcette, that woman was practically an iceberg. “The Führer wishes to see you.”
Fawcette mentally grumbled. He was about to get the sergeant to confess, and now this had to happen.
However, no one could deny the Führer’s request and that was a fact. So, Fawcette didn’t have all that much of a choice in the matter.
“I’m coming,” he answered. He picked some of the papers that were on his desk and glared at the sergeant. “This interrogation is far from over.”
“Lieutenant Colonel, this way, if you please,” Douglas said, motioning her hand to the exit.
Fawcette nodded, and with one last order to his subordinates that the sergeant wasn’t to go anywhere, he followed Douglas out the door.
Roy was at his desk when he heard the knock on the door. Guessing who it could be, he immediately let out a commanding: “Enter!”
Sure enough, Riza opened the door.
“Sir, we’re all here,” she said.
“Good. Come in.”
The moment that Roy said those words, all of his subordinates walked in and stood in attention in front of him. Roy mentally smiled to see the crew with such discipline and loyalty reflected in their eyes.
“So…” he started. “Sergeant Major Kain Fuery… Warrant Officer Vato Falman… Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda… and First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye,” each of the officers’ posture became prouder as they heard their names, “I’m in a position to announce that I was ordered to be transferred to Central. What’s more important, I was given permission to choose any officers I want to come with me. And I want you all by my side. You’re expected to pack any belongings you wish to take with you by tonight, so you can take the early train tomorrow morning. No objections, I trust?”
“None, Sir!” all the officers said.
“Good. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Hawkeye and I will go on ahead by car tonight,” Roy said. “If anyone asks, the official answer is that we’ve gone to the nearby military posts for one last inspection before our departure. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir!” was the unanimous reply, and all the officers saluted.
“Excellent. You’re dismissed,” Roy said, saluting back. And with that, Breda, Falman and Fuery exited, whispering between themselves about this turn of events. Riza was about to walk out, too, but the colonel’s voice made her stop in her tracks and face him.
“Lieutenant Hawkeye… How long do you think it will take for us to get to Central?”
“At a good speed of 60 miles per hour and provided we don’t do any stops on the way, we should be there by tomorrow morning, Sir.”
Roy nodded his acknowledgement. “Thank you. That will be all.”
Riza bowed and closed the door behind her, leaving Roy to his own thoughts.
Beregond looked at the clock on the wall and heaved a fed-up sigh. It must have been a quarter of an hour since Fawcette left with that woman, and he hadn’t shown up yet. Though he was somewhat relieved that that farce of an interrogation didn’t continue, he had still grown weary of being stuck in this room.
There was the option of using his alchemy and transmute brick fists to hit the guards so that he would escape, of course; a very tempting option at that. But, Beregond was aware that that would hardly help matters. If anything, it would probably make him seem guilty.
And so, Beregond just waited.
“Who was she?” he asked the private closest to him in his attempt to pass time.
But the private didn’t answer. In fact, he didn’t give so much as an indication that he had heard the Gondorian, and remained standing in attention and looking ahead. It was a wonder what the private was looking at exactly, nevertheless that’s what he did.
“Really?! That’s interesting!” Beregond said in a matter-of-fact tone, and then resumed with his wait.
Fortunately, five minutes later, the door opened and Fawcette walked in.
Beregond was certainly surprised to see the lieutenant colonel quite red on the face, and that wasn’t all. Fawcette’s whole body form was trembling, even as he took out a key from his overcoat and unlocked Beregond’s handcuffs.
It didn’t take a great mind to understand that Fawcette was enraged about something. The question was: what?
Beregond decided that he didn’t want to know.
“Get out.”
Beregond blinked and regarded Fawcette in disbelief. “What are you playing at?”
“Just get out!” Fawcette growled. “And make sure I don’t see or hear from you again!”
Beregond frowned, but he had no intention of arguing about this. He bowed his head slightly, eyes locked on Fawcette warily, and then turned on his heel and walked out. He didn’t bother to look back as he closed the door and headed for the exit.
He had barely turned around to the next hallway, when the same woman that Beregond had seen in Fawcette’s office called him.
“Yes?” he asked, eyeing the woman curiously as she walked up to him.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Sergeant. I’m Colonel Juliette Douglas, the Führer’s secretary. I wanted to apologise on behalf of Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette.”
“I thank you for your kindness, Miss Douglas,” Beregond answered politely. “But I assure you this isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with the lieutenant colonel’s suspicious nature.”
“Nevertheless, his conduct should have been better, considering your actions helped him in arresting the mercenaries who threatened to disturb the peace in Central.”
“You know of that then?”
Douglas nodded. “As a matter of fact, that’s the reason for my presence here. The Führer would like to see you. Right this way, if you please.”
Taken aback as he was, Beregond didn’t object. After all, he knew perfectly well what a Führer was, as well as how unwise it would be to refuse such a request. And so, moments later, he was following Juliette Douglas through corridors and stairs, until they reached a large oak door on the top floor. Douglas knocked and opened the door enough so that she could address Bradley in a discreet manner.
“Sir? Sergeant Beregond is here, just as you requested.”
“Ah, excellent. You can send him in, Miss Douglas.”
Those words made Beregond’s heart miss a beat. And when Douglas told him that he could step in, his legs instantly carried him inside as though on their own accord – or rather, because he wanted to be sure that his ears didn’t deceive him.
To his horror, they didn’t. And all he could do besides saluting was stare with bated breath at the one face he hadn’t wanted to see in this world - even though this face looked younger by a couple of decades and it was missing an eye.
Even though it now belonged to a different person.
“So you must be Sergeant Beregond,” Führer Bradley said, a cordial smile gracing his features. “I heard so many things about you that I just had to make your acquaintance.”
“Your Excellency is only too kind,” Beregond said, making sure his voice was steady. “But I’m nothing but a soldier in his service.”
“Quite modest, I see,” Bradley replied, his smile only broadening. He made a motion with his hand to point at the chairs in front of his desk. “Do sit down.”
“Thank you, Your Excellency.”
“A simple ‘Sir’ works for me just as well, Sergeant; there’s no need for such extensive formality.”
“Very well, Sir,” Beregond said, correcting himself.
“Good. Do you know why you’re here?” Bradley asked, resting his back against his chair, sipping his tea.
“Colonel Juliette Douglas told me that it has to do with those mercenaries that were placed under arrest.”
“Placed under arrest thanks to you and Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc. It’s a rare thing to see such loyalty nowadays, and that’s why I wanted to express my gratitude.”
Beregond swallowed hard, something that apparently didn’t go unnoticed by the Führer because his next words were: “No, I don’t have any doubts as to your loyalty, Sergeant, even though officers like Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette seem to believe otherwise. That’s why I decided that you should be spared of such accusations from now on. It’s distracting for the military and it prevents the men from trying to find the real perpetrators within the ranks. Yes, there is a breach in the army, Sergeant. So you see why everyone is ready to point the finger to someone else”.
Beregond listened on, and yet the only words that registered were ‘breach’ and ‘everyone’s ready to point the finger at someone else’.
He didn’t like what it reminded him of at all.
“That’s also why I must ask you that you’ll reveal none of this to anyone else. You won’t speak of the incidents of Lab 5 or of the mercenaries to anyone else except the people that were with you in the hospital before your arrest. Is that understood?”
“Understood, Sir.”
“I’m glad. You’re dismissed, Sergeant,” said Bradley. “I believe Lieutenant Colonel Hughes is already waiting for you at the exit. I phoned him to come as soon as I dealt with the matter of your interrogation.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Beregond said before standing up and saluting.
“It’s the least I could do,” Bradley answered, saluting back. And with that, he locked his gaze on the paperwork on his desk, as though not heeding the Gondorian’s presence anymore.
Taking that as a sign that he could leave, Beregond turned and exited, surprised to see that Miss Douglas was waiting for him.
“This is your first time to Central Headquarters, yes?” she asked.
Beregond nodded.
“Then allow me to escort you outside. Please, follow me.”
Beregond complied, wishing to study the woman further. It was strange but, the more he stared at her through the corner of his eye, the more he felt puzzled by her for some reason - especially by her facial expression.
Or rather, lack thereof. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he would have ventured to say that her look was very much like a dead person’s.
He cringed. After all, it wasn’t the best thing to think about a woman and, more importantly, a woman that was working so close to the Führer.
Speaking of which…
“So… Miss Douglas…” he ventured. “If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you been working as the Führer’s secretary?”
“Almost five years,” she answered simply.
“You must consider yourself very lucky.”
“It was an honour I accepted gladly, admittedly.”
“I’ll say. They say he’s done some radical changes as to how this country runs. He was the one who gave the alchemists the right to enlist in the military, giving them the title of State Alchemist, right?”
“You’ve done your homework, I see.”
“One should know under whom he serves,” the Gondorian answered. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yes. Just as one should know about the people who serve him,” Douglas answered then, her eyes locking on Beregond’s for the first time throughout their conversation. I believe we have a common acquaintance; a certain Professor Syndow. He spoke quite highly of you when we talked. He described you as… ‘unique’.”
“Indeed?” Beregond said, keeping his tone neutral.
Douglas nodded just slightly. “Uniqueness is a trait that the Führer always looks for in his men. So you must consider yourself very lucky as well.”
“I suppose I must,” Beregond said, careful with his choice of words.
Douglas didn’t say anything this time. However, she soon stopped and addressed Beregond again. “This is as far as I can go, I’m afraid; I have to return to my duties. The exit is straight ahead. I bid you farewell, Sergeant.” And with that, she turned and walked away, without as much as looking behind her. Beregond watched her go, unsure what to make of the conversation he’d had with her.
That is, until he decided that the best thing to do was keep walking toward the exit. He could only smile with relief when he saw Hughes waiting for him outside, and Hughes returned the smile just as readily.
“Good news, I take it?” Maes asked.
“Yeah… I got cleared.”
“Great!” Maes grinned, patting Beregond on the shoulder. “Come on, we’re heading at my place. Everyone is waiting for us there.”
“Wait,” Beregond said, eyes widened. “What about Edward and Alphonse?”
“They’re there too. After you were taken away, Edward ‘convinced’ the doctor to discharge him, and he was even ready to use the same argument on Fawcette to let you go. Al had to hold him by the collar so I could leave.”
Beregond stared at Maes in disbelief for a few moments, and then laughed hard. “That would have been interesting to see.”
“Maybe next time you’ll get arrested,” Maes said, teasing along. However, his face soon sobered up somewhat, and his look changed to that of curiosity. “By the way, what happened in there? When you walked out, you looked as though you had just seen a ghost.”
Beregond sighed. “In a way… I did.”
And that was all he said.
King Bradley hardly looked up from his paperwork when the door opened again. He knew perfectly well who had just walked in.
“So what do you think of him, Miss Douglas?” he asked.
“He certainly knows how to be on his guard,” she said. “I mentioned Professor Syndow to him and I didn’t detect any reaction.”
“Are you surprised? It certainly explains why we didn’t get to know of him sooner,” Bradley said. A frown settled on his features. “There’s something else that’s been puzzling me though.”
“Such as?”
“The way he kept looking at me while we talked… it was as though he knew me.”
Douglas raised an eyebrow. “That’s impossible.”
Bradley stared at Douglas hard. “Is it? Should I remind you of Edward Elric’s reaction when he first looked at you?”
Douglas snorted. “That’s different, Pride.”
“Really? In what way, exactly?” Bradley said chuckling. He untied the patch and dropped it onto the desk, so that his covered eye would reveal itself. His ouroboros-shaped pupil locked on the female homunculus. “I’m by no means saying that he created me; I know who my creator is and I’m loyal to her. Nevertheless, let’s not forget that we were created on the basis of someone else. Maybe he knew that other one.”
Sloth frowned. “That seems more logical.”
“That, however, could also be a problem. He could talk to someone about it and so arouse unwanted suspicions.”
She shook her head. “If the Fullmetal Alchemist didn’t say anything about me, then I doubt he’ll do anything of the sort. Still, I’ll keep my eyes open.”
“Good. And there’s one final thing we have to deal with. According to that man Fawcette, there’s some evidence that could incriminate the sergeant and have him discharged.”
“Where’s that evidence?”
“His superior, a Brigadier General Connors is on his way to bring it to me. What do you think it could be?”
Sloth crossed her arms. “I don’t know. Whatever it is, it mustn’t be seen by anyone else. We can keep a better eye on him while he’s in the military.”
Pride smiled, his grin maniacal and intimidating. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that.”
TBC…
Roy was still troubled by Breda’s discovery, of course. However, he also knew Grumman quite well. When the Lieutenant General came to meet him personally, there was also a very important matter which needed discussion. That was why, after dismissing Breda, he followed Grumman to the older man’s office.
A quarter of an hour later, the game had progressed quite a lot. Still, Grumman didn’t say anything about the reason for Roy’s presence in his office just yet. Roy was a patient man, though, and he knew that his patience would be rewarded sooner or later.
“I have some interesting news for you,” Grumman said then, moving another one of his chess pieces.
“Oh?” Roy said, keeping his eyes on the game.
“I received an order for your transfer to Central a couple of hours ago. You’re to start working there in two days’ time.”
“I see.” Roy crossed his arms as he became lost in thought. “That’s rather sudden, I must say.”
“From what I gathered, King Bradley was impressed by two of your subordinates – a sergeant and a second lieutenant.”
Roy nodded, and he made a mental note to thank Havoc and Beregond at first chance.
“It’ll be lonely here,” Grumman continued on. “You’ve been quite interesting.”
This was the first time since the conversation started that Roy allowed himself a small smile. “Not as much as your stories of when you were young.”
Grumman chuckled. “Well, when I was a young officer it was so…”
It was then that Roy moved one of his knights; a move that Grumman certainly didn’t expect, because he remained staring at the chess-board in surprise.
“Got you there, Lieutenant General,” Roy said with a smirk.
“Hmm.” Grumman looked at each of his pieces in deep thought, until he finally moved a pawn forward. “Thanks to your hard work, you also made my job easier.”
“I, too, was able to learn a lot from the work you gave me here,” Roy replied, quickly taking the pawn with one of his bishops. “I really appreciate it, Lieutenant General.”
Grumman didn’t answer at once, clearly contemplating his options before making his next move. “The bad thing is that Brigadier General Hakuro will be replacing you. I don’t like him; he’s too stern.”
“You know how most of the brigadier generals are. I wish you good luck.” And with that, Roy moved his queen, a look of triumph on his face. “Checkmate.”
“Ah!” Grumman could only stare at the board with eyes widened before exclaiming excitedly: “I finally lost!”
“I finally beat you,” Roy said, his smiling broadening.
“This is special,” Grumman declared, taking out of his pocket a small journal. “So that makes it a total of 1 win, 97 losses and 15 draws.”
“I’ll gladly take that win,” Roy said. He started picking up the pieces and placing them inside the board; whereas Grumman stood up, a broad smile on his face as well.
“Talking about special, would you take my granddaughter as your wife? She’ll become the future Führer’s wife, after all.”
But Roy shook his head. “Don’t think too much ahead, Lieutenant General.” He stood up and got ready to leave, but then he suddenly stopped in his tracks as though remembering something. “Talking about special, I have several more subordinates that I want with me in Central.”
Grumman smiled, handing Roy his chess-board. “Of course. Take them.”
“You have my thanks.”
And with that, Roy saluted the lieutenant general and walked out. When he entered his office, Riza was already waiting for him, her expression business-like.
“You’re late,” she noted.
“Got held up,” replied Roy. “Any news so far?”
“Lieutenant Havoc called just a quarter of an hour ago,” Riza said. “Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette arrested Sergeant Beregond.”
Roy pursed his lips. “I see. And, to make matters worse, Connors found what he had been looking for.”
“Did Lieutenant Breda say that, Sir?”
“Yeah.” Roy’s brows creased to a frown. “Things are turning for the worse.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Riza asked.
“Maybe,” Roy said. “Call the others. I have something to announce.”
Riza nodded her acknowledgement saluted courteously before exiting. As for Mustang, he sat behind his desk and knitted his fingers as he became lost in thought.
“Sir, we brought the suspect,” one of the privates said, saluting Fawcette. As for the lieutenant colonel himself, he was sitting behind his desk, his back resting against his chair, a smug look crossing his sharp features.
“Very well. Bring him here,” he said.
The private nodded signalled to someone outside. A few moments later, a couple more privates walked in, escorting a very angry-looking Beregond.
“I bet you don’t like this situation, do you, Sergeant?” Fawcette asked, his gaze drifting on the man’s handcuffs. Yes, the sight was quite gratifying indeed.
“I certainly don’t,” Beregond said in a low, dismayed tone. “Aren’t you tired of arresting me all the time? Because, personally, I’ve grown sick of it.”
Fawcette snorted. “Still acting high and mighty, I see. It’s a pity that there are none of your friends here to save your ass this time.”
“Yes, a pity that they can’t see you making a fool of yourself again.”
It was then that Fawcette lost his own temper. He banged his hand on the desk with such force that the privates flinched. Beregond, however, still remained glaring at the lieutenant colonel, fingers twitching.
“THE ONLY FOOL IN THIS ROOM IS YOU!” the lieutenant colonel shouted at the top of his voice. “Or did you think we wouldn’t find out about you eventually?”
Beregond’s eyes widened in surprise. “Find out what?” he asked.
Fawcette smirked in satisfaction. “I’m talking about your real name, Sergeant. Or should I say… William Brice?”
Beregond’s surprise vanished at once to be replaced by an expression of incredulity. A snort of laughter escaped his lips. “You’ve finally lost it,” he declared, not caring about cordiality towards this higher-ranking officer.
“Or maybe I’m finally seeing through you,” Fawcette said coldly. “You know that I’ve been searching for any information about you, that’s no secret. Just like you know that I came up with nothing. But how could anyone leave no traces of his existence, not even so much as a birth certificate, and still be here before me? It’s not possible.
“Unless… that person is no longer among the living.”
Beregond raised an eyebrow. “So now you think I’m a ghost?”
“Hardly,” Fawcette answered with a sneer. “More like someone who staged his own death.”
“Even if I am who you claim, why would I do a thing like that?” Beregond asked.
“That’s what I want you to answer me.”
“How am I to do that?!” Beregond exclaimed. “I’m not even that man!”
“There’s proof that says otherwise, Sergeant!”
“I’d like to see that proof!” Beregond exclaimed angrily.
“It’s on its way, don’t you worry about that!” Fawcette shouted back.
Before the Gondorian had any chance to reply to that, there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” Fawcette said edgily.
The door opened and a woman walked in. Fawcette instantly tensed and saluted, an action quickly followed by the other privates as well. The only one who didn’t react the way he was supposed to was the sergeant; he was merely looking at the woman with mild interest and curiosity.
So he doesn’t know her.
“Miss Douglas… That’s certainly a surprise,” Fawcette said. “May I help you?”
“As a matter of fact, you can,” Douglas answered, her face expressionless. To Fawcette, that woman was practically an iceberg. “The Führer wishes to see you.”
Fawcette mentally grumbled. He was about to get the sergeant to confess, and now this had to happen.
However, no one could deny the Führer’s request and that was a fact. So, Fawcette didn’t have all that much of a choice in the matter.
“I’m coming,” he answered. He picked some of the papers that were on his desk and glared at the sergeant. “This interrogation is far from over.”
“Lieutenant Colonel, this way, if you please,” Douglas said, motioning her hand to the exit.
Fawcette nodded, and with one last order to his subordinates that the sergeant wasn’t to go anywhere, he followed Douglas out the door.
Roy was at his desk when he heard the knock on the door. Guessing who it could be, he immediately let out a commanding: “Enter!”
Sure enough, Riza opened the door.
“Sir, we’re all here,” she said.
“Good. Come in.”
The moment that Roy said those words, all of his subordinates walked in and stood in attention in front of him. Roy mentally smiled to see the crew with such discipline and loyalty reflected in their eyes.
“So…” he started. “Sergeant Major Kain Fuery… Warrant Officer Vato Falman… Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda… and First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye,” each of the officers’ posture became prouder as they heard their names, “I’m in a position to announce that I was ordered to be transferred to Central. What’s more important, I was given permission to choose any officers I want to come with me. And I want you all by my side. You’re expected to pack any belongings you wish to take with you by tonight, so you can take the early train tomorrow morning. No objections, I trust?”
“None, Sir!” all the officers said.
“Good. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Hawkeye and I will go on ahead by car tonight,” Roy said. “If anyone asks, the official answer is that we’ve gone to the nearby military posts for one last inspection before our departure. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir!” was the unanimous reply, and all the officers saluted.
“Excellent. You’re dismissed,” Roy said, saluting back. And with that, Breda, Falman and Fuery exited, whispering between themselves about this turn of events. Riza was about to walk out, too, but the colonel’s voice made her stop in her tracks and face him.
“Lieutenant Hawkeye… How long do you think it will take for us to get to Central?”
“At a good speed of 60 miles per hour and provided we don’t do any stops on the way, we should be there by tomorrow morning, Sir.”
Roy nodded his acknowledgement. “Thank you. That will be all.”
Riza bowed and closed the door behind her, leaving Roy to his own thoughts.
Beregond looked at the clock on the wall and heaved a fed-up sigh. It must have been a quarter of an hour since Fawcette left with that woman, and he hadn’t shown up yet. Though he was somewhat relieved that that farce of an interrogation didn’t continue, he had still grown weary of being stuck in this room.
There was the option of using his alchemy and transmute brick fists to hit the guards so that he would escape, of course; a very tempting option at that. But, Beregond was aware that that would hardly help matters. If anything, it would probably make him seem guilty.
And so, Beregond just waited.
“Who was she?” he asked the private closest to him in his attempt to pass time.
But the private didn’t answer. In fact, he didn’t give so much as an indication that he had heard the Gondorian, and remained standing in attention and looking ahead. It was a wonder what the private was looking at exactly, nevertheless that’s what he did.
“Really?! That’s interesting!” Beregond said in a matter-of-fact tone, and then resumed with his wait.
Fortunately, five minutes later, the door opened and Fawcette walked in.
Beregond was certainly surprised to see the lieutenant colonel quite red on the face, and that wasn’t all. Fawcette’s whole body form was trembling, even as he took out a key from his overcoat and unlocked Beregond’s handcuffs.
It didn’t take a great mind to understand that Fawcette was enraged about something. The question was: what?
Beregond decided that he didn’t want to know.
“Get out.”
Beregond blinked and regarded Fawcette in disbelief. “What are you playing at?”
“Just get out!” Fawcette growled. “And make sure I don’t see or hear from you again!”
Beregond frowned, but he had no intention of arguing about this. He bowed his head slightly, eyes locked on Fawcette warily, and then turned on his heel and walked out. He didn’t bother to look back as he closed the door and headed for the exit.
He had barely turned around to the next hallway, when the same woman that Beregond had seen in Fawcette’s office called him.
“Yes?” he asked, eyeing the woman curiously as she walked up to him.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Sergeant. I’m Colonel Juliette Douglas, the Führer’s secretary. I wanted to apologise on behalf of Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette.”
“I thank you for your kindness, Miss Douglas,” Beregond answered politely. “But I assure you this isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with the lieutenant colonel’s suspicious nature.”
“Nevertheless, his conduct should have been better, considering your actions helped him in arresting the mercenaries who threatened to disturb the peace in Central.”
“You know of that then?”
Douglas nodded. “As a matter of fact, that’s the reason for my presence here. The Führer would like to see you. Right this way, if you please.”
Taken aback as he was, Beregond didn’t object. After all, he knew perfectly well what a Führer was, as well as how unwise it would be to refuse such a request. And so, moments later, he was following Juliette Douglas through corridors and stairs, until they reached a large oak door on the top floor. Douglas knocked and opened the door enough so that she could address Bradley in a discreet manner.
“Sir? Sergeant Beregond is here, just as you requested.”
“Ah, excellent. You can send him in, Miss Douglas.”
Those words made Beregond’s heart miss a beat. And when Douglas told him that he could step in, his legs instantly carried him inside as though on their own accord – or rather, because he wanted to be sure that his ears didn’t deceive him.
To his horror, they didn’t. And all he could do besides saluting was stare with bated breath at the one face he hadn’t wanted to see in this world - even though this face looked younger by a couple of decades and it was missing an eye.
Even though it now belonged to a different person.
“So you must be Sergeant Beregond,” Führer Bradley said, a cordial smile gracing his features. “I heard so many things about you that I just had to make your acquaintance.”
“Your Excellency is only too kind,” Beregond said, making sure his voice was steady. “But I’m nothing but a soldier in his service.”
“Quite modest, I see,” Bradley replied, his smile only broadening. He made a motion with his hand to point at the chairs in front of his desk. “Do sit down.”
“Thank you, Your Excellency.”
“A simple ‘Sir’ works for me just as well, Sergeant; there’s no need for such extensive formality.”
“Very well, Sir,” Beregond said, correcting himself.
“Good. Do you know why you’re here?” Bradley asked, resting his back against his chair, sipping his tea.
“Colonel Juliette Douglas told me that it has to do with those mercenaries that were placed under arrest.”
“Placed under arrest thanks to you and Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc. It’s a rare thing to see such loyalty nowadays, and that’s why I wanted to express my gratitude.”
Beregond swallowed hard, something that apparently didn’t go unnoticed by the Führer because his next words were: “No, I don’t have any doubts as to your loyalty, Sergeant, even though officers like Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette seem to believe otherwise. That’s why I decided that you should be spared of such accusations from now on. It’s distracting for the military and it prevents the men from trying to find the real perpetrators within the ranks. Yes, there is a breach in the army, Sergeant. So you see why everyone is ready to point the finger to someone else”.
Beregond listened on, and yet the only words that registered were ‘breach’ and ‘everyone’s ready to point the finger at someone else’.
He didn’t like what it reminded him of at all.
“That’s also why I must ask you that you’ll reveal none of this to anyone else. You won’t speak of the incidents of Lab 5 or of the mercenaries to anyone else except the people that were with you in the hospital before your arrest. Is that understood?”
“Understood, Sir.”
“I’m glad. You’re dismissed, Sergeant,” said Bradley. “I believe Lieutenant Colonel Hughes is already waiting for you at the exit. I phoned him to come as soon as I dealt with the matter of your interrogation.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Beregond said before standing up and saluting.
“It’s the least I could do,” Bradley answered, saluting back. And with that, he locked his gaze on the paperwork on his desk, as though not heeding the Gondorian’s presence anymore.
Taking that as a sign that he could leave, Beregond turned and exited, surprised to see that Miss Douglas was waiting for him.
“This is your first time to Central Headquarters, yes?” she asked.
Beregond nodded.
“Then allow me to escort you outside. Please, follow me.”
Beregond complied, wishing to study the woman further. It was strange but, the more he stared at her through the corner of his eye, the more he felt puzzled by her for some reason - especially by her facial expression.
Or rather, lack thereof. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he would have ventured to say that her look was very much like a dead person’s.
He cringed. After all, it wasn’t the best thing to think about a woman and, more importantly, a woman that was working so close to the Führer.
Speaking of which…
“So… Miss Douglas…” he ventured. “If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you been working as the Führer’s secretary?”
“Almost five years,” she answered simply.
“You must consider yourself very lucky.”
“It was an honour I accepted gladly, admittedly.”
“I’ll say. They say he’s done some radical changes as to how this country runs. He was the one who gave the alchemists the right to enlist in the military, giving them the title of State Alchemist, right?”
“You’ve done your homework, I see.”
“One should know under whom he serves,” the Gondorian answered. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yes. Just as one should know about the people who serve him,” Douglas answered then, her eyes locking on Beregond’s for the first time throughout their conversation. I believe we have a common acquaintance; a certain Professor Syndow. He spoke quite highly of you when we talked. He described you as… ‘unique’.”
“Indeed?” Beregond said, keeping his tone neutral.
Douglas nodded just slightly. “Uniqueness is a trait that the Führer always looks for in his men. So you must consider yourself very lucky as well.”
“I suppose I must,” Beregond said, careful with his choice of words.
Douglas didn’t say anything this time. However, she soon stopped and addressed Beregond again. “This is as far as I can go, I’m afraid; I have to return to my duties. The exit is straight ahead. I bid you farewell, Sergeant.” And with that, she turned and walked away, without as much as looking behind her. Beregond watched her go, unsure what to make of the conversation he’d had with her.
That is, until he decided that the best thing to do was keep walking toward the exit. He could only smile with relief when he saw Hughes waiting for him outside, and Hughes returned the smile just as readily.
“Good news, I take it?” Maes asked.
“Yeah… I got cleared.”
“Great!” Maes grinned, patting Beregond on the shoulder. “Come on, we’re heading at my place. Everyone is waiting for us there.”
“Wait,” Beregond said, eyes widened. “What about Edward and Alphonse?”
“They’re there too. After you were taken away, Edward ‘convinced’ the doctor to discharge him, and he was even ready to use the same argument on Fawcette to let you go. Al had to hold him by the collar so I could leave.”
Beregond stared at Maes in disbelief for a few moments, and then laughed hard. “That would have been interesting to see.”
“Maybe next time you’ll get arrested,” Maes said, teasing along. However, his face soon sobered up somewhat, and his look changed to that of curiosity. “By the way, what happened in there? When you walked out, you looked as though you had just seen a ghost.”
Beregond sighed. “In a way… I did.”
And that was all he said.
King Bradley hardly looked up from his paperwork when the door opened again. He knew perfectly well who had just walked in.
“So what do you think of him, Miss Douglas?” he asked.
“He certainly knows how to be on his guard,” she said. “I mentioned Professor Syndow to him and I didn’t detect any reaction.”
“Are you surprised? It certainly explains why we didn’t get to know of him sooner,” Bradley said. A frown settled on his features. “There’s something else that’s been puzzling me though.”
“Such as?”
“The way he kept looking at me while we talked… it was as though he knew me.”
Douglas raised an eyebrow. “That’s impossible.”
Bradley stared at Douglas hard. “Is it? Should I remind you of Edward Elric’s reaction when he first looked at you?”
Douglas snorted. “That’s different, Pride.”
“Really? In what way, exactly?” Bradley said chuckling. He untied the patch and dropped it onto the desk, so that his covered eye would reveal itself. His ouroboros-shaped pupil locked on the female homunculus. “I’m by no means saying that he created me; I know who my creator is and I’m loyal to her. Nevertheless, let’s not forget that we were created on the basis of someone else. Maybe he knew that other one.”
Sloth frowned. “That seems more logical.”
“That, however, could also be a problem. He could talk to someone about it and so arouse unwanted suspicions.”
She shook her head. “If the Fullmetal Alchemist didn’t say anything about me, then I doubt he’ll do anything of the sort. Still, I’ll keep my eyes open.”
“Good. And there’s one final thing we have to deal with. According to that man Fawcette, there’s some evidence that could incriminate the sergeant and have him discharged.”
“Where’s that evidence?”
“His superior, a Brigadier General Connors is on his way to bring it to me. What do you think it could be?”
Sloth crossed her arms. “I don’t know. Whatever it is, it mustn’t be seen by anyone else. We can keep a better eye on him while he’s in the military.”
Pride smiled, his grin maniacal and intimidating. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that.”
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