Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Balance of Power ❯ All This and a Bag of Chips ( Chapter 24 )

"All This and a Bag of Chips"
Arc One: Chapter Twenty-Three
PART ONE
Balance of Power

WARNING: Post Series, Post Movie **SPOILER HEAVY** and slightly AU

A/N With sincerest apologies for taking eight bloody months to get this chapter out. To those who have hung with us, we are eternally grateful.

Chapter Twenty-Three -- "All This and a Bag of Chips"
Part One:

All This and a Bag of Chips
Arc One: Chapter 23

June 3, 2006 - 10:42pm
Wichita, Kansas

"Bella, did you see the file on Susan Ames?" Heather asked, as she shuffled through a stack of folders. Nope, nothing to see here, folks. All is as it should be, nice and routine. Tiger has been handed off to a pair of orderlies and is off to get his arm x-rayed, and Ray left with Gene to play some cards and keep the boy company while they wait for his friend to return.

At least that was the story on the surface. Except the 'orderlies' weren't staff and she'd heard Gene mention something about alarms just before Ray had wheeled him to parts unknown. Let them handle it, she thought. Ray knew Gene best and had a wonderful rapport with the boy. On top of that, Ray was also privy to more of what was going on right at the moment than she was. Not that she resented it any. Heather had decided with the first whisperings of a 'plan' to get Tiger out of the hospital that she would much rather be on a 'need-to-know' basis. And she didn't need to know what the big nurse and his be-speckled, geeky cohort was up to.

Bella, the short duty nurse, without tearing her eyes away from screen before her, reached beneath a stack of paperwork to retrieve the misplaced folder and passed it across the counter. Then she pulled away from her desk and stood to stretch her arms languidly over her head. "Damn, swing-shift kicks my ass." Without waiting for a reply, she slipped out of her heavy, black shoes and kicked them under the desk. Reaching out with her foot, she captured a pair of flowered crocs and slid into them with a sigh. "I know Christa hates these things, but she doesn't have my corns."

Heather glanced up with a half-smile. "Too bad you don't know anyone in the medical field."

Bella chuckled, "Forget that, none of the doctors here know a thing about feet!"

~`~`~`~

At the far end of the corridor, in a cramped office that might have been a closet at one time, Ray crouched near Gene's chair. The young boy was elbows deep in a bundle of wires that had been pulled out from a half-hidden access panel. Gene was methodical, carefully clearing the mass to the side without dislodging any connections. On the floor next to them was a laptop that Gene had hacked into the hospital security system, which was currently scrolling reams of code that could have been Greek for all that Ray could understand it. He shot another nervous glance at the door while Gene continued fiddling. Though it was locked, he was certain someone was going to come poking their head in any second.

A small grunt from the side made Ray spin back around in time to see Gene pull his hand free from a sparking connection. "Dammit kid, you planning to fry yourself?"

Gene glared back through his heavy glasses, then gingerly picked up the grouping of wires again. "Well, turning off the power would help, but I think the staff might be a little suspicious if they can't make espressos between rounds." He dove back into the tangle of wires, effectively slamming an invisible door on Ray. A moment later, he murmured, "This should do--" The rest of the comment was cut off when they heard a muted whistle and then the floor vibrated.

"Odd."

"X-ray's right below us, right?" Gene asked.

"Ye--" At that moment, the alarms started screaming and the sprinklers clicked on, shorting out the laptop and the exposed wiring. Ray sprung to his feet and yanked Gene's wheelchair back. "What the hell did you do?"

Gene went pale and his eyes were so wide that the pupils looked tiny. "I swear, that wasn't me."

~`~`~`~

Al settled into his seat as Lt. Colonel Hughes -- Brig-- no, Mister, Al corrected -- pushed his wheelchair down the hall. The girl who had come in with him quickly took the lead. The way she forged ahead, with an almost palpable confidence that didn't completely cover an underlying sense of caution, reminded him of how his brother acted in unfamiliar and potentially dangerous situations. And, oddly enough, her mannerisms helped to ease a few of his worries. At the very least the girl looked like she knew what she was doing which, Al had learned from watching Ed for so many years, was half the battle. And he'd always felt safe in Hughes' presence, a natural effect he had no doubt, came from the older man's authority as a parent. He snuck another glance up at Hughes, only to find a pair of green eyes and glasses already gazing back down at him. They exchanged such shy, absurd, and ecstatic smiles filled with so much unspoken emotion that Al had to look away and blink back more tears. A heavy hand ruffled through his hair, the girl turned around and mouthed "almost there." Al was minutes away from seeing his brother again... it was the best he'd felt in weeks.

Which was, of course, when the explosion struck.

Emergency lights blinked, alarms wailed, and water rained on them from the sprinklers above. Hughes struggled to pull the wheelchair to a stop on the suddenly slick linoleum as the girl rushed to an intersecting hallway and peered around the corner.

She turned to face them, her expression a mix of disbelief, slight panic, and (another Ed favorite) supreme irritation. She waved for them to move and pointed to a doorway to the right, all the while holding one hand to her ear and muttering what Al was sure was some very creative language.

He quickly hopped out of the wheelchair and followed Hughes through the indicated door. They were in some sort of storage closet, the walls lined with shelves and supplies. An acrid smoke billowed through the vent above that reeked of scorched rotten eggs, and Al yanked the front of his tunic over his nose to filter some of the stench. Next to him, Hughes tried to cover a cough without much success.

A heartbeat later, the girl slipped inside and pushed the door almost all the way closed, leaving the smallest sliver of hallway showing. "Dammit, Ducks! What are you doing?!" she hissed to no one. "Tom? Reilly? Ducky and Term are in trouble, hello?" With an exasperated sigh, she pulled something out of her ear; beside her, Hughes did the same. "I can't believe him!" the girl whispered dramatically.

~`~`~`~

Bella wriggled her toes while she typed. At the adjacent desk, the other nurse, Christa, had just returned from break. The younger woman tossed her purse haphazardly beneath her station before dropping lightly into her chair. Glancing at Bella, she frowned slightly. "Ugh, you're wearing those eyesores again?" Clicking her tongue with exaggerated disgust, she met Bella's eye with a chuckle.

Shaking her head, Bella smiled before turning back to her computer. Then she frowned. "What the--?"

Then all Hell broke loose.

~`~`~`~

"What happened?" Hughes whispered in the dark, cramped closet.

"He... they... I'm going to kill him!" the girl barely managed to force out.

"Heist," Hughes replied calmly, "we don't have time for that."

Heist frowned, and her brows knit together as she collected herself. "The room, the rendezvous point, is leaking water and smoke."

Hughes groaned.

"And," Heist continued, "the night guards are calling in backup."

Footsteps echoed louder and louder and Heist whirled around to spy through the crack in the door. Hughes, two heads taller, also edged in close to watch the goings on in the hall. The noise passed quickly and Hughes exhaled slowly as he cast a grim half-smile Al's direction. "Just a couple of hospital workers."

Al nodded and they both turned their attention to their guide. Heist had resumed grumbling to herself, but in their cramped quarters, Al could make out what she was saying. For the most part it was little more than obvious expletives and creative epithets aimed at Ducky, but among the muttered curses she was rapidly working out plans of action... and discarding them just as quickly.

"Okay... Maybe the sprinklers shorted their radios... Backup could be caught up somewhere else... Think, Heist, come on, you've been in worse jams before..."

"We need to leave," Hughes urged gently.

"I know, I know. Damn Ducky! I should have known he'd screw this up somehow."

"We don't know that Ducky and Ed are even involved in this," Hughes said.

Al struggled to hide a smirk and wondered if Hughes had really forgotten all the paperwork Colonel Mustang had to do whenever Ed had returned from a mission.

Heist stared at him derisively and pointed to the vent above. "That is classic Ducky right there. He's been in love with the smoke bomb since my brother introduced him to them when we were kids. They're one of his favorite low-tech inventions of the century, right after the Chinese take-out box." Abruptly she fell silent. The tip of her tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth as she rolled it between her teeth.

Hughes growled, "Heist-"

"Screw Ducky. We don't need him."

Alarmed, as he had really only managed to piece together that Ducky was working with Ed, Al started to protest, but Hughes motioned for him to wait. Heist nodded to herself as she worked out some plan in her mind, pausing briefly to assess who was making the next round of footsteps outside.

"Guards," she whispered, carefully closing the door completely, her hand still on the handle. She waited for the noise to subside and began to pull the door open again. "Come on. Ducks can take care of himself."

~`~`~`~

Ed could barely see through the restraining coils of slippery rope. Hanging upside down, he had to fight against vertigo as he attempted to free his right arm to cut through the fibrous material. Thankfully he'd managed to transmute his arm just before they crashed through the grate. Even more thankfully, he hadn't sliced his leg open when the loops of rope pinned his arm to his side. At his back, Ducky thrashed fanatically, adding to Ed's exasperating struggle to free them both. Spitting water from his lips, Ed gave his shoulder a hard twist, and felt the barest give in the rope. About that time, someone burst through the doors at the far end of the room --

~`~`~`~

-- Something's hanging from the ceiling, Bill thought as he blinked water out of his eyes. It was writhing and smoking, and it looked like part of it had been scorched. To Bill, it brought to mind the victims from a campy movie he saw with his buddies sometime in the late eighties..."Killer Robot Clowns from Space" or something to that effect. They'd been ensconced in a sticky mass of cotton candy, sorta like sugary cocoons. The soggy, rope bound concoction before him was equally unlikely within the context of a hospital X-Ray room. But there it was. The sound they had heard was soft spoken cursing and small grunts of discomfort.

Bill immediately dropped into cop mode, brandishing his fire extinguisher like a weapon. "Freeze!" --

~`~`~`~

-- Ducky wriggled even more furiously, and Ed desperately wished he had a free leg to kick him. This additional movement was obviously poorly met because he heard another order to freeze. Knowing he had only seconds, Ed relaxed his body as much as he was able, releasing his breath in a steady stream. The tiny amount of slack was minimal, but he took it. With a vicious cry, he pushed out with his automail, and was rewarded with a wet, ripping sound as the rope finally gave. --

~`~`~`~

-- Bill was gratified to see Bruce take up position a short ways away, his gun steadily trained on the tangled mass before him. Reaching for his walkie-talkie, he was once more rewarded by a sizzle of intermittent static. Count on a hospital to cut corners with security. Returning his attention back to the hanging mass, he was just beginning to wonder how the two men had become so hopelessly entangled when there was sudden movement from beneath the ropes.

"I said freeze!!"

There was a second where the mass seemed about to obey.

And then there was a flurry of movement as a wild animal burst out of the cocoon --

~`~`~`~

-- "Shit, he's armed!"

Ed felt a single shot whiz past his ear. Peripherally he was aware of Ducky hitting the floor behind him. This was pushed to the back of his mind as he leapt and slid, feet first, across a table sprouting some kind of metal, branch-like appendages. He had the barest remembrance of the Rockbell's Automail table, and then he was colliding into the larger man.

With a grunt, the man staggered back, but didn't fall. Ed bounced back after the first strike, performing a quick handstand as he flipped out of the way.

Not wanting to inflict mortal harm on the men, as well as trying to reduce his threat, Ed quickly transmuted his arm back. He ducked once more behind the bizarre table in hopes of hiding the alchemic modification, and frowned when he saw how much he'd shredded the latex covering.

Turning his eyes back to the current situation, he saw the man, who looked like some sort of patrol officer, turn to his companion. While he was briefly looking away, Ed charged again.

He hadn't counted on the big officer having quick reflexes. The blow from the metal canister the officer was holding felt like a punch from Greed's fist, solid and unbreakable. He couldn't help the yelp of pain as he hit the floor. For several seconds he lost all equilibrium as the world tipped on its side.

He could hear a faint buzzing, and the gentle patter of raindrops caressed his cheek. When he opened his eyes, the officer was standing over him, still looking ready to fight, but with an oddly guilty look on his face. Then the eyes shifted to Ed's right arm, and the look went from guilty to horrified.

Pushing down the queasy feeling in his stomach, Ed started to rise.

"Stay on the floor, hands where I can see them!"

Still dazed slightly, Ed let his eyes drift to the right. The other officer had Ducky backed in a corner and was restraining him with some kind of odd, plastic manacles. Rolling his eyes back to his own opponent, Ed saw he still hadn't dropped the metal can that vaguely resembled a CTC extinguisher. That was good, a gun would have put a crimp in his plan. Focusing himself, he knew he only had one shot.

With a toothy grin, Ed lunged.

It was over in seconds. Needing just a moment to catch his breath, Ed felt his head where the canister had left it ringing. He felt as though his eye was going to explode from the left side of his face. It had only taken a second to disable the security man before him, once he actually managed to punch him. He blamed the headrush from hanging upside down and strapped to Ducky for his sluggish attack.

Ducky.

Ed whirled just in time to avoid a tackle from the second security guard. Still against the wall, Ducky appeared to be struggling with his restraints. Concentrating on the current battle, Ed paused at the gun leveled on him. He blinked at the steady stream of water in his eyes, his hands held ready at his sides.

"Okay kid, just take it easy." The security guard facing him now was younger than the other one and his face had the look of someone unused to confrontation. This might have made for an easy fight... except for the gun gripped tightly in a shaking hand.

Ed was less worried about himself than he was for the other man in the room. Clenching his teeth, he balled his hands into fists. "I'm not a kid," he muttered darkly.

The guard seemed to mentally steel himself as he forced his hand steady. Keeping his eyes locked on Ed, he pulled his radio from his belt. "B-base, this is Campbell. We have a situation in X-Ray room three. Wright is down and I'm holding two intruders. I need backup, now!"

The hiss from speaker was loud, but Ed could still make out the words. "Backup is on its way. You were ordered to wait for their arrival before proceeding!"

The guard grimaced, still facing Ed. "The situation escalated and we were forced to respond. Be advised there are possible incendiary devices present."

There was a pause, and then the voice was back. "I copy that, do you require bomb squad?"

Breathing quickly, the guard nodded his head. "Ye-yeah... you better do that. And make sure that backup kicks it into high gear!"

Returning the walkie-talkie to his belt, the guard -- Campbell, he'd called himself -- took a more stable stance as he gestured at Ed with the gun in his hand. "Lie down on the ground, face down and hands outstretched. Now!"

Glaring, Ed nonetheless did as he was told. His forehead tickled where a small cut bled slightly and he moved to wipe it.

"I said don't move!"

The sound of a hammer being cocked made him rethink his decision so he dropped his hand back to the puddled floor. Lying still, he heard the sound of several footsteps and the room was suddenly flooded with bodies. Voices filled the room as the area was secured. After several moments, the constant drum of water trickled away, then stopped. Ed could hear Ducky protesting as he was manhandled to the ground to sit nearby. The other guard Ed had knocked out earlier was being checked over. He was sitting up slowly and rubbing his head.

This enough of a distraction? thought Ed irritably as he was manhandled up by the arm and then shoved down to sit next to Ducky. His head was really hurting and he had no doubt the whole left side of his face was going to be one big bruise.

A security guard found one of the duffles and started going through it. Another hurried over to stop him as some lingering smoke from Ducky's smoke bombs drifted out. "Put it down, there could be an explosive!"

In his haste to relieve himself of the potential bomb, the guard dropped the bag to the floor, causing several security men to wince and lurch away. The actual result, though, was to loosen the contents and send several of the smoke bombs to roll out onto the white vinyl where they sputtered slightly and died.

The guard who'd originally dropped the duffel leaned over and picked one up, quickly stating the obvious. "It's just smoke bombs!"

A couple of guards chuckled in relief... at least until the implications started to sink in.

"Oh shit!"

Ed winced at all the guns leveling on him. By his side, Ducky twitched nervously, wriggling his shoulders in an attempt to get comfortable. "Hey, I got poor circulation, you wouldn't mind loosening these just a little... pleeeeease?"

Ignoring Ducky, the head security officer focused on Ed. "Where are the others!" He demanded briskly.

Ed shrugged. "What do you mean? This was just a practical joke--"

"A dare!" interjected Ducky, only to find more weapons swinging his way.

Frowning, Ed nodded. "Yeah, a dare."

The guard nodded, unconvinced. "You don't lie very well, but you do it better than your partner. Now, once more, where are the others?"

Ed had never been able to pull off innocent with any great success, the number of times Winry had dented his skull with a wrench was proof of that. In any case, their intent was very obvious, and they were trying to pull off a distraction after all. Might as well make it spectacular. He could already hear Al groaning in trepidation. "You got me. The real reason we're here is to kidnap one of your patients. My team has already infiltrated the hospital and probably completed their objective by now."

He could feel Ducky's eyes burning into the side of his head. Smiling internally, Ed glanced over at his companion. Yeah, he looked close enough. "Although, WE weren't supposed to get caught!" Grinding his teeth together, he suddenly lunged at Ducky, punching him in the cheek.

With a yell of surprise, Ducky fell back, bowling over the guard who'd been standing behind him.

In seconds, Ed felt arms wrap around him. He fought down a grin -- it was going perfectly. Pretending to struggle, he used his right hand to collect a daub of blue paint from the knuckle of his left. Allowing himself to be subdued, he drew a quick array on the floor at his feet.

With a thunderous eruption, the floor sprouted tentacles. Many of the guards attempted to fire, but quickly found themselves hopelessly coiled in the writhing material.

Most of the lights burst out in a shower of sparks at the blast of alchemic power. As the room dimmed, the confusion became even more apparent. Thankfully, none of the guns discharged, the men obviously had the intelligence to not fire blindly.

Ed was only forced to knock out one of the guards manually, feeling a burst of fierce pleasure as he did so. He still wasn't done however. The transmuted floor was all well and good, but only in a temporary capacity. Reilly had already warned him that excessive use of alchemy was to be avoided at all costs, and she'd even managed to sound eerily like Al when she reminded him that he tended to go overboard. Not to mention the yelling, cursing, and even crying of the guards was more than his aching head could tolerate.

Time for the more traditional approach. One of the duffles had fallen into the room with him, and was currently lying in a soggy pile near the cold-cocked body of the last guard. Ed's duffel was almost in the room, hanging suspended from the same broken chunk of metal that had stopped their plunge to the floor.

Several items had fallen from the hanging bag, including one thing Ed had been looking for -- a roll of Duck tape. He rolled his eyes as he retrieved it, still confused as to why it was named after a waterbird.

For that matter, he still hadn't figured out why Ducky was named for one either.

Tearing off a piece of the silver-grey tape with his teeth, Ed went to the first guard and taped his mouth shut. Stripping off a bit more, he used it to bind the arms and legs as well.

Straightening, he looked around the room at the rest of the guards. Stretching his back, he got started. Within twenty minutes, he'd finally finished, though he'd had to resort to using some of the rope by this time, having exhausted all the tape.

Drawing out another array, he returned the floor to normal. Ignoring the gripes and complaints of the still bound Ducky, Ed retrieved a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of gloves from his own duffel to hide his arm.

Finally, he turned back to his partner. Feeling only a teenie bit guilty, he quickly dispensed of Ducky's restraints by transmuting one finger into a sharp blade to cut through the tough plastic.

Ducky frowned as the white strips fell to the floor. "Hey, how come you didn't have to wear cuffs?"

Ed looked at Ducky pointedly as he changed his shirt and pulled on the gloves. "I'm not the one with a blue face."

Nodding jovially now that he was finally free, Ducky looked around the room, his eyes slowly widening. "Dude, that... was... AWESOME!!!!!!!"

Ed was somewhat surprised by the reaction, half expecting a tongue lashing for ignoring the other man's plight while he attended to the guards. Though on a schedule, he allowed himself a very brief feeling of pride as he too looked around the room. In Amestris, alchemy was a well understood science. Though impressive, it was recognized for what it was, a useful tool. But here, on the other side of the gate, it was literally magic to those unfamiliar with it. A simple thing like transmuting a floor was more than enough to impress an ignorant mind.

As far as ignorance went, Ed couldn't even pretend superiority... far from it. Nearly everything about this world was strange and foreign to him. This room alone contained things he couldn't begin to guess the purpose for. Metal and plastic objects, looking almost like mechanisms of torture, dotted the shelves on three of the four walls. The fourth wall was even stranger, most of it dominated by what appeared to be a coated window judging by the light it cast. But there was no way it could be natural light. Ed knew beyond a doubt that they were too far towards the middle of the building for that to be an outside wall.

Pieces of shiny paper were clinging to the window. Looking closer, Ed could see what appeared to be odd pictures of bones. Most of them had something wrong with them, breaks, and out of joint sockets. One picture even showed what looked like heavy screws inserted through a wrist. To Ed's eyes, it presented a macabre sight, an unpleasant reminder of his own hours in surgery, and he looked away quickly. It was time to leave. Gathering his duffel, he tossed the other one to Ducky.

"Come on, we need to meet up with the others, get Al, and get the hell out of here!" Without looking back, Ed ran for the door.

Stumbling after him, Ducky paused at the exit, looking around again at the struggling guards. "So awesome!!!"

"Come on Ducky, move your ass!!" He looked back to see the young hacker run out the door. Good thing, because Ed wasn't entirely sure where they should be going. Already the small flutter residing in his chest had started to grow. It would only take moments for that flutter to evolve into blind panic, and Ed just didn't have the time for it. "As far as I'm concerned, we can screw plan B. I came here to get Al and I'm not leaving without him!"

Ducky had only just managed to catch up with him, breathing heavily. Ed blinked at the hacker's face, feeling a bubble of amusement in spite of his fears. The makeup had hopelessly smeared, covering his neck, shirt collar, and even his hair in sticky blue muck. In addition to that, his right cheek had swelled slightly where Ed's fist had struck, and he was certain it was probably bruised as well, though he couldn't tell through the layer of paint.

His amusement died quickly in a wave of guilt as Ducky pinned him with a glare. "You punched me you jerk!"

Ed didn't lower his eyes or look away. He supposed he could have been gentler, but he'd allowed his pent up frustration take over his emotions. "Sorry."

Pushing past him, Ducky grabbed the door to the stairwell. Feeling like a first-rate bastard, Ed turned to follow, only to be stopped by Ducky's laughter. "So we gonna stand around here jawing all night, or do you want to rescue your little brother?" Grinning, Ducky spoke in that airy tone he used to communicate on the walkie-talkie. "Reilly, hon, change of plans. D.D.T. is moving forward to collect the package, get back with a location, over."

Eyes wide at the flip in Ducky's mood, Ed paused for only a moment before darting forward. Ducky had already started down the stairs and he was... singing.

"I'm on the run with things to do
I've got a burnt orange peel
And a potato stew
I've got work to get done
I've got work to get done
Nobody knows where to run"

Feeling all traces of remorse bleed away, Ed ground his teeth together and followed. Maybe he should have hit him with his right hand after all.

~`~`~`~

"Come on," Heist said, "Ducks can take care of himself."

"What about my brother?!" Al whispered frantically.

Heist pushed the door closed again and looked thoughtfully at Al like she'd suddenly remembered he was even there. "Oh, yeah. Ed has your clothes. Guess you'll just have to wear that until we get back to the hotel." And then she returned her attention to what lay beyond the door.

"Oh, here." Hughes fumbled reaching in an inner pocket of the scrubs he was wearing until he withdrew a marker that he pressed into Al's hand. "Ed said it was alchemically neutral."

"Thanks."

"Come on, boys," Heist said, pulling the door open. "Time to move."

They stole quietly down the hall back in the direction they had come with Heist keeping up a running commentary and a quick pace. "There's a staircase," she murmured conversationally, just loud enough to be heard over the alarms, "at the end of this next hall. Three flights down to the parking garage. As long as we can get there before the guards, we should be home free--"

"Hey you! Stop!"

Al chanced a glance behind only to see a pair of guards jogging towards them. Then a hand clamped firmly around his arm and he focused his attention forward. Heist had already sprinted to the next intersection; Hughes dragged Al to catch up to her. There were more people here, nurses and aides escorting patients towards exits. The sprinklers were off in this wing, but the alarms rang on, adding to the general chaos of the evacuation.

Heist continued leading the way, maneuvering deftly through the crowd, slowly building a bit of distance between them. She would occasionally look over her shoulder, frown and slow down, but a few steps later her pace picked up again. Though they had been traveling at a fairly quick stride, apparently Heist thought they could be going faster.

About halfway down the hall, Heist veered to the right and disappeared. When Hughes and Al reached the spot, a hand beckoned from behind an unmarked door. They entered what looked like an empty office in the middle of remodeling; Al surveyed buckets of paint and supplies, tools and a step ladder.

"Change of plans," Heist announced without preamble. "One floor up, follow the signs to the cafeteria. It closed two hours ago and deliveries are in the morning, so it should be empty. Take the service elevator in the back to the loading dock -- the cafeteria's on it's own alarm section, elevators should still be working. From there it's just a flight of stairs up to the parking garage."

"Why the sudden change?" Hughes asked.

"You move too slow, old man," Heist replied evenly.

Al watched the two exchange a look, and then Hughes nodded in silent understanding.

"I'll head them off," Heist insisted. "Get Term Jr. out of here." Then she opened the door wide enough to point out another stairwell across the hall. "Tell Ducks not to worry," she shot over her shoulder before she slipped out and bolted off.

Dangerously close behind, several guards ran by; Hughes quickly closed the door of their hideout lest they be seen. He waited a few moments before peering outside again and when the coast was clear, Hughes took Al's hand and they crossed the hall and bounded up the stairs.

They were going against the flow of foot traffic, and Hughes absorbed the brunt of the jostling as they made their way up one stair at a time. It only took a few steps for Al to notice that Hughes was struggling to keep pace. By the time they reached the next level, he could no longer hide his grimace. Still, he held the door open and beckoned for Al to go first. There were fewer people on this floor, and as they followed the arrows to the cafeteria, the crowd thinned out even more.

The eating area was deserted, a few security lights interspersed throughout the room the only illumination.

As soon as they'd crossed the threshold Hughes fell back against the wall next to the entrance and grasped at his shoulder with a wince.

It was then Al realized that the man was in agony. He'd gone pale and clammy and he was breathing heavier than he should have been. "General?"

Hughes quirked a pained smile and said, "Maes, Al. I'm not an officer here." He glanced over at the shoulder he was holding and shrugged with the other one. "Just a minor accident; nothing to worry about."

Al wasn't convinced, but he also knew they didn't have time to fuss over it. He held out his hand and said, "We'd better get going then. I'll help you."

Hughes looked like he was about to protest, but thought better of it and took the offer. Al was just tall enough to fit under the bigger man's good arm, and he took some of the weight.

As Hughes moved away from the wall, Al wrapped his arm around his waist, then jerked back as the other man hissed and Al's arm felt sticky and wet. He stared down, saw redness and gasped, "You're bleeding!"

"Let's get a move on," Hughes said.

Al didn't argue as they limped toward the kitchen of the cafeteria; every moment they wasted was one closer to getting caught.

~`~`~`~

Ed peered out the stairwell door. Not surprisingly, the corridors had quickly filled with moving bodies --primarily hospital staff with a smattering of confused patients. However, in increasing numbers, security people in the familiar blue had begun filtering through the throng. The time they could spend hidden behind the door was finite; already Ed could hear footsteps thudding up the stairwell. Hiding among the crowd might be difficult as well, there weren't a lot of people out there dressed in black and covered in blue face paint. He felt Ducky tap his shoulder, and he turned, only to gape in surprise.

"Where did you get that?!"

Ducky grinned through the remains of his makeup. "I nicked it from one of the laundry carts while you were busy ogling the X-Ray room."

Ed shook his head, accepting the white coat with bemusement and even a little respect... at least until he slid his arms into the sleeves. Ed glared darkly as Ducky guffawed. "Think you could have found one in my size?" he asked through tightly clenched teeth.

Ducky's eyes shone, and Ed could tell he was having difficulty repressing his response. Before the reply could be made, however, Ed turned back to the door, double rolling the long sleeves. With any luck, the guards wouldn't notice that his coat was dragging on the floor.

Glancing back at Ducky, he was relieved to see the man had sobered up, though the traces of a smile were still evident in the crinkles around his eyes. Sighing, Ed pushed through the door, fixing his face with a neutral expression and hoping Ducky would do the same. As they moved into the hallway, Ed angled for the elevator, hoping that the group of doctors headed down would be enough of a cover to conceal them from the wary guards.

The elevator trip was brief, and fortunately uneventful. As soon as their floor appeared, the two men hurried out, making their way towards the nurse's station midway down the long corridor. The pace here was slightly more relaxed than the floors above. There were more patients mingled with the hospital staff, and they were clearly trying to minimize any threat that could be present.

They threaded their way through the thinning crowd, Ed following Ducky, who seemed to be following arrows on the floor and signs pointing toward the cafeteria. While this section of the hospital was less crowded than the previous floor, it also had the disadvantage of making the two young men stand out more. At least they were managing to avoid security. Ed just hoped the other man knew where he was going -- the last thing they needed to do was get trapped somewhere with only one exit.

A set of wide doors graced the far end of the hall with 'Cafeteria' painted in big red letters overhead and Ed was hesitant to enter. His gut was screaming trap and he was about to hustle Ducky towards another stairwell. Unfortunately, the thunder of several people pounding down the stairs took that choice away from them. They'd barely managed to get hidden in the cafeteria, when a group of security spilled out of the stairway doors; the lead man of the group talking animatedly on his radio. The voice that responded seemed unnaturally loud and was directing them towards Ed and Ducky's current location. Swearing desperately, Ed cast about for escape and saw the steel doors behind the counter. Far be it for him to look a gift horse in the mouth. Latching on to Ducky's sleeve, Ed half-dragged the other man towards the doors. With a final quick glance over his shoulder, he hurried the both of them into the kitchen... and stopped short.

~`~`~`~

"Please, continue," Sidney gestured to the discarded cell phone. "I would hate to interrupt." The echoing sounds in the parking garage were loud, but Bond could still hear the tinny female voice squawking from the tiny speaker. Hell, he was pretty sure he even recognized it. The grey haired man didn't move, and his eyes remained locked with Sidney's own.

He continued his methodical stroking of the woman, Reilly's, neck. Far from sexual, the motion instead made him feel calmly powerful, knowing he could crush her at any moment. The other man seemed to be aware of that fact as well, but save for a slight tremor along his jawline, his expression gave away nothing. The standoff couldn't last, someone always broke and did something rash.

It would be the woman. Already Sidney could feel her gathering herself for some kind of action. He tightened his fingers enough to make her gasp, and she relaxed against the door again and he allowed the barest of smiles to show. In other circumstances it would have appeared charming. "Well well, we seem to have a situation here."

The other man didn't so much as blink. Sidney dropped his hand from Reilly's neck long enough to twist it into her masses of sweaty curls. It would be harder for her to break away from him now -- not without losing some scalp in the process. Leaning closer, but keeping most of his head hidden behind Reilly's, he pressed his lips to the back of her left ear. "All right darling, now reach behind yourself like a good girl and open this door won't you? And try not to be clumsy -- I can still use you as a shield even if you're dead."

Following his instructions, Reilly worked her arm awkwardly behind herself, having to hitch her shoulders back and her breasts up in order to reach the handle of the van. At the slight incline the van was resting at, the door dropped open quickly, half spilling Reilly until she grabbed the steering wheel. At the same time she cried out in obvious pain as her hair was pulled by the hold Sidney had on it. His arm was still through the window, so her range of motion was severely limited.

Sidney knew this was his most precarious position. He could see that knowledge reflected back at him in the other man's eyes. For the briefest of seconds, his head had been in full view. He expected the other man to fire, and had already prepared to eliminate the woman the second he did -- but there was no shot, and he had to allow the barest admiration for the other man's patience. He could have made a good agent with the proper training.

By this time, Reilly had regained her footing, and Sidney was able to reposition the muzzle of his gun at the base of her neck while he tore his other hand free from her scalp. She hissed at the twiney snaps as several hairs were pulled out, but he ignored her discomfort. Reaching around the open door, he returned his free hand to her neck while repositioning his weapon at the spot behind her left ear.

The lot was still basically empty at this point, so Sidney had her back with him towards a collection of smaller vehicles, never taking his eyes off the silver-haired man on the other side of the van. Unconcerned at being seen, he had no wish to be near anything taller than himself. The last thing he needed was some skinny kid leaping down on him from above --

~`~`~`~

-- Tom never flinched as Reilly was hauled roughly from the van. His gun never wavered when -- for just the barest moment -- Bond's head was exposed as Reilly lost her footing. He didn't dare risk the shot, no matter how good he was. As the two moved slowly away from the vehicle, Tom eased around the front of the hood, never breaking eye contact with the other man. Bond backed Reilly between two compacts, the space behind him open and clear. As of yet, the man had made no demands. Instead, he seemed to be simply buying time. Tom had no doubt as to whom his true target was. There wasn't much time.

~`~`~`~

"Brother!"

Ed felt his body slammed backward as something launched into his chest, nearly knocking him back out into the main part of the cafeteria. He felt Ducky place a restraining hand against his back to steady him and then all he knew was the young man with his arms wrapped around him in a fierce embrace. "A-Al?" Ed squeezed his eyes shut as he felt a poisoned sickness lift from his gut and evaporate as he clung to the shaking form of his little brother.

The last time he'd had such a reunion with Al, they'd been buried under heaps of metal and Al had melded part of his soul into his old armor body. Then, his embrace had nearly crushed Ed. By contrast, the body he now occupied felt tiny and frail. Ed was worried he might actually hurt his brother if he held him too tightly.

As Al's hitching breath subsided a bit, Ed finally looked up to see Ducky standing a short distance away talking quietly to Hughes, who looked a little worse for wear. Turning back to his brother, Ed smiled crookedly. "Hey, come on, you weren't afraid I'd let you down were you?"

Al managed a chuckle, wiping the moisture from his cheeks.

With Al calmed somewhat, Ed stepped away from him, saying, "We don't have much time. Security's probably headed this way."

Al was immediately all business again as he nodded and pointed toward the back of the kitchen. "Heist said the loading dock is back there."

Hughes and Ducky joined them then, and Ed glanced back at the the younger man for confirmation.

"If Heist said it'll get us to the rendezvous, then it'll get us there," Ducky said.

At that moment, the sound of the cafeteria doors swinging open with a loud bang reminded them of the need to move now. Ed grabbed Al by the sleeve, and bolted for the loading dock. He didn't look back but knew Hughes and Ducky were hot on his heels.

Reilly had drilled into them the need for subtlety, but discretion was a luxury during a foot chase. Ed chuckled at the confusion the guards must be feeling about now. The sudden appearance of a wall where a hallway used to be was sure to put a crack in their sanity. With a surge of relief only slightly less than what he felt upon finding Al, Ed charged up the last set of stairs leading to the dock. He couldn't wait to sag down in the van for a well deserved break. Maybe he could even convince Reilly to stop at one of those hamburger places. Keeping that thought in mind, and a wide smile on his face, Ed slammed open the door, glancing over his shoulder with a yell. "Come on guys, quit dragging your feet!" In the distance, he could just make out the van amongst a cluster of smaller vehicles. After making sure Al was keeping up, Ed looked back towards the van. He frowned, slowing just a little. Something was off... the driver's side door was hanging open...

~`~`~`~

Heist charged through the doors into the parking garage stairwell and jogged up to the next floor. A sense of urgency was pushing her, but it was no longer the need to elude capture. She'd led the security team pursuing her on a merry chase throughout the hospital, dodging and ducking and luring them down dead-ends that only she knew the way out of. At one point, when she was certain she wasn't being followed too closely, she dumped the wig in the hamper of a cleaning cart and made a bee-line for the rendezvous.

No, it was an unexplainable feeling that something was going terribly wrong. The chatter on the walkies had all but stopped from Hughes and she'd lost contact with Term and Ducks awhile ago. Even Tom and Pandora were unusually quiet... and that disturbed her the most.

For once caution took over, and instead of her barreling blindly out of the stairs into the garage, she hesitated and glanced out of the small window in the door. It looked like everyone had made it; they were all standing around, facing a familiar form. She broke out in a grin and almost dashed out to tackle Siddo in a big bear hug. With him there, they'd be sure to make it out without having to come up with bail money.

Except something wasn't quite right about the scene. Tom was pointing his gun at Sidney, and everyone looked scared and pissed. Heist couldn't see Pandora well though; just a patch of curly hair and a part of her shoulder, but it looked like she was using her own body as a shield between Tom and Sid. Tsk, tempers, she thought. Tom and Sid probably had a communications malfunction and Pandora was playing peace-maker. Well, Heist thought as she grabbed the bar to push open the door, at least Pandora will knock reason into both their heads. Literally, if she has to.

As she started to step out, she caught a better view and forgot how to breathe. What the bloody hell?!

~`~`~`~

Ed felt cold. Unlike previous evenings, the temperature after sunset had dropped considerably. Bond had his hand wrapped firmly around Reilly's throat with a small gun leveled at her head. Even so, the small weapon was nothing compared to what he could do with his alchemy. Ed had seen the devastation caused by those transmutations, he knew what Bond was capable of. Reilly looked tense, her eyes declaring plainly that she'd sacrifice herself before letting anyone else be hurt. A few feet away, Tom stood with his own gun leveled. He appeared relaxed, but there was tension in the line of his shoulders. He was ready to move the instant an opening presented itself. Al and Ducky were closest to Ed, the older of the two seconds away from a nervous meltdown, and if things weren't resolved soon, he was bound to do something stupid. As for Al, he was still as a stone, his eyes riveted on the scene before him. The smirk on Bond's face told Ed he'd purposely allowed them all to soak in the situation, to see it from all angles.

Without a doubt, he had the upper hand. And the really frightening thing was, prior experience showed Bond wasn't afraid of making a scene. They couldn't count on random passerby to provide a distraction, Bond would just kill them too.

"You see how it is, don't you Fullmetal? Everything is in place--" Bond's grip on Reilly's throat tightened and he turned his gun on Ed. "Don't... even consider it."

Ed slowly moved his hands apart and his eyes shifted around the group again. The assassin's position gave him a clear view of everything. When Ed glanced at Tom, he saw that the older man was looking at him.

Tom gave a minute shake of his head. 'Don't be rash--'

Ed lowered his brows, returning his attention back to Bond, who's smile had been replaced by a look of false compassion. It stank of rotting meat.

Silence.

Eyes strained from staring, fingers stiff from clenching. A drop of sweat rolled and dropped. The heat was rising again. The electricity in the air pulsed like a plucked chord, humming through the teeth.

It had to break soon...

It had to break...

 

~`~`~`~

No way! Heist thought, even as the truth sank it's sharp teeth into her brain and coiled like a snake in the pit of her stomach. Why? Whywhywhy?! Tears started to sting her eyes as the realization of Sidney's betrayal became more solid. She felt sick and scared. What had she done? Stupid, Heist. You're so damned stupid.

Shame burned her, and the temptation to just slink back into the stairwell and hide was overwhelming. Maybe if she became MIA long enough, they'd all get away safely and write her off as a casualty of war. The Gods knew that she would probably only make matters worse if she tried to help out now...

Except she couldn't move. Her heart pounded and black spots formed at the edge of her vision from the lack of oxygen and she forced herself to breathe again.

It was all so unreal; everything was moving through molasses, as Ed's hands twitched and Sidney swung his gun from Pandora's throat to point at him.

"Even this world is infatuated with guns. Yet unrefined as they might be, Fullmetal, they are still very effective," Sidney was saying to Ed.

"What do you expect us to do, Bond? Just let you walk out of here with Hughes and the boys?" Tom asked.

Ed's eyes darted to her, then came instantly back to Sidney. Heist didn't think the other man had noticed, but she knew Ed knew she was there.

"No, you pathetic fool. I expect you -- all of you -- to die." Sidney leveled the gun towards the van, and Ducky and Tom ducked...

...And Heist went from fear and shame to pure rage. Rage at Sidney for betraying her when all she'd ever done was try to help him out, and at herself for being played for a fool. Her hand clenched tightly on the walkie and she gritted her teeth. She hoped she'd at least read correctly what she saw in Term's eyes as she wound up for a strong fast-ball pitch.

~`~`~`~

"Gnuuh!"

Ed slapped his hands together the second Heist's walkie-talkie slammed into Bond's temple. The distraction was very, very brief... but it was long enough. A flash of transmutation, and Ed lunged, slicing Bond's gun in half at the handle. In the same move, he shoved Reilly aside with his left hand. She hit the ground heavily, rolling away from the struggle as Ed ducked under Bond's swinging fist. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to dodge the knee that caught him under the ribs. Grunting, he grasped his middle, coughing. He felt Bond take advantage of his brief weakness to slam the broken handle of the gun into his shoulder. Luckily, Bond had chosen the right side, and Ed was able to dodge before Bond recovered from the stun of metal on metal. Rolling to the side, he gathered his feet beneath himself and launched his body at Bond, slamming him with his automail shoulder.

Bond didn't stumble as he'd hoped. Instead, the older man wrapped his hands around Ed's skull and squeezed. Digging his fingers into Bond's wrists, Ed felt himself starting to black out. Suddenly Ed heard the concussion of a weapon firing just as Bond released him and jumped back. Blinking rapidly, he looked around to see Tom lining up for another shot. Turning back to Bond, he saw that the other man had crouched down and drawn a circle on the side of a car. Then grinning smugly, he slapped one hand on the symbol. With a flash of golden light, he pulled something long and slender from the side of the car.

Realizing what had been transmuted, Ed leaped forward, tackling Tom as he ran forward, apparently to try for a cleaner shot -- seconds before Bond raked the area with a newly created sub-machine gun.

Ed could feel tiny stones pepper his face as the bullets kicked them up in passing. Still hanging onto the older man, Ed threw the both of them behind a lime green truck. Glancing around, he was relieved to see everyone else had scattered out of harm's way. Looking back at Bond, Ed could see the man fiddling with something on his wrist. With hideous premonition, Ed gasped, lurching to his feet. He barely registered Tom's hand as it grasped for his ankle. Tearing away, he started to charge for the renegade alchemist, but the blink of red from the roof of the van brought him up short. Spider-bomb, he thought, remembering the description Hughes had given him of the weapon that had killed Kitten. He didn't need to be a genius to comprehend just how devastating that weapon would be if it went off, and what the bomb didn't destroy, the resultant damage to the garage and its proximity to the hospital would finish. The bastard means to take out as many people as he can.

~`~`~`~

Maes hadn't bothered to wait long enough to find out what, exactly, Bond was transmuting. After seeing some of the devastation the assassin had wreaked, it was more prudent to take cover first and ask questions later. Diving for the moderate safety of a nearby SUV, he scooped Al up on his way. He'd misestimated his trajectory, though, and hit hard on his bad shoulder, rolled and lurched up with a howl into a squat with his back slamming into the knobby, oversized tires of a pick-up truck. He panted and swallowed down the rising nausea and tried valiantly to remain conscious through the exquisite pain, and barely registered that Al was helping him further toward the front end of the truck for better cover.

"Stay here, Mr. Hughes," Al said as he helped the man lean against the other tire of the truck and ducking a hail of ricocheting bullets.

"Al, I--" Maes choked and the nausea surged anew, but for a different cause. Just past Al's shoulder, Maes could see the roof of the ninjavan... and the red eyes of a spider-bomb blinking out, one by one. "...oh hell," he whispered. Gruesome images of Kitten flashed through his memory, and Maes gagged. Beating down the urge to empty his stomach on the floor of the garage -- there isn't time for this -- he came painfully to his feet. "Al, the roof! There's a bomb on the roof of the van. Help me get everyone under cover," he ground out weakly.

Al whipped around and looked up, just as another eye clicked shut on a metallic spider, then he made to dart toward the vehicle, but Maes frantically dragged the wriggling, kicking boy away with one arm. "It's going to blow us all to hell, Al! Get away!" he yelled.

"Lemme go, Mr. Hughes! I can take care of this!"

"You can't do anything to stop it! He's probably got an alchemic failsafe in there again!"

"You should listen to your elders, Alphonse Elric," Bond shouted from his spot in the drive of the garage. "Your friend here has witnessed just how spectacularly my little toys do what I tell them to."

As Maes stumbled out from his cover, the assassin came into view and the arrogance on Bond's face infuriated him.

"Rumour has it," Bond continued, smirking at Maes, "that if it weren't for you witnessing her demise, no one would have been able to identify the girl... Kitten, wasn't it?"

Off to the side, Maes heard a strangled sob and spared a quick glance over at Heist, who was treading closer to the rest of the group as though in a trance. "Don't--"

"You killed Kitten?" she choked as tears rolled freely from eyes that were too large for her pale, bloodless face.

"The only use of a pawn is for sacrifice, my dear," Bond said. "And she fulfilled her purpose beautifully."

Maes barely heard her whisper, "Bastard," but the suddenly clenched fists and jaw was warning enough.

She launched herself at Bond as he brought the machine gun up and aimed.

Maes knew he'd never make it to her in time to keep her from being murdered and shaking with impotent fury, he slammed his eyes shut and turned his head. He couldn't bear seeing yet another young life ended by that insane son of a bitch... and a resolution had begun to settle deep in his gut.

The impending rain of bullets never came though, and Maes spared a glance to see that Ed had put himself between the assassin and Heist. Because he knows Bond needs him alive. And as dangerous as it was to put him in a foul mood, Maes couldn't help relishing the supreme irritation on Bond's face.

"You're proud of that?" Ed said, disgusted and disbelieving, and taking the focus off Heist. "Kitten was nothing to you."

"Oh, I am, Fullmetal. I am. That spider was a work of art, as was the explosion it caused. Of course it wasn't nearly as breath-taking as the complete and total elimination of Ms. Reilly's little world." Bond shot a cold smile at Reilly, and said, "How does it feel to lose every precious memory of your entire life; to suddenly find yourself bereft of home and hearth?"

"Why?" Reilly whispered. "What did I do to you?"

"You interfered with my plans, Mary Reilly. And you annoy me."

"What do you want, Stealthworks?" Maes snapped.

"Why simply to go home," Bond said, then he pointed the machine gun at Ed, then Al and Maes. "And you three are going to help me achieve that goal."

"What guarantee do we have that you'll disable the bomb if we go with you?" Ed asked.

"None," Maes said, bitterly. "But if we don't go, it's a sure bet he will blow this hospital up."

"Very astute, General Hughes. I can see you earned your posthumous promotion," Bond sneered.

Next to Maes, Al shifted and tensed, ready to pounce. Every parental instinct within the older man wanted to order the boy to stand down; there were plenty of adults here to deal with the situation. Except... while Reilly might be able to think on her feet under most circumstances, this was out of her abilities; any move she made right now would get her killed and she was wise enough to know that. Heist and Ducky had great minds for technology, but zero skills in dealing with trained assassins from either world. Besides, Heist was out of the game anyway. A darting glance told Maes she'd moved in closer to the rest of the group, and she was seeking comfort from her childhood friend, if the death-grip she had on his arm was any indication. That left himself and Tom. Both old soldiers, both spent time in Intelligence, and neither of them were squeamish about killing the bastard in front of them.

Provided they could get the drop on Bond and both take him out together. An incredibly difficult task under the best of circumstances.

Their eyes met briefly over the ten feet that separated them and Maes knew from the grim set of the old man's lips, that Tom had been running the odds through his mind as well, and he'd come to the exact same conclusion...

...they were all in over their heads.

It was going to be left to Al and Ed. Children, who hadn't been children for a very, very long time. But these were Elrics; every bit as brilliant and capable of pulling miracles out of their asses The only thing he and Tom could do, would be to provide back-up and support.

And if those boys couldn't save the day? Well, they were all already dead anyway, weren't they?

"You want me to open a Gate," Ed said, amazingly calm. "I can't do that. I'm not like you, Bond; I don't go around killing people."

"Indeed?" Bond leveled the machine gun at Heist once more, and sounded almost convincingly contrite as he said, "My sincerest apologies, Dear, but I need your assistance one last time." Then his finger tensed on the trigger while Heist remained rooted to the spot, too terrified to move.

"Don't!" Ed blurted. When Bond turned his attention back to the younger alchemist, Ed said, "Don't. I--I'll do it. Just... don't kill my friends."

Al slipped away while Bond wasn't looking, and Maes assumed he was creeping toward the van while his older brother was negotiating with the assassin. A quick glance around assured Maes that the rest of the group knew what was going on and were making every effort to pretend like nothing was going on. Even Ducky seemed more concerned about Heist and was doing a damn fine job of not reacting.

Bond considered Ed for a moment, never wavering in his aim at Heist, then he laughed once, a bitter, barking sound. "I don't believe you, Fullmetal." Then he faced Heist and squeezed the trigger.

Everything happened at once. As bullets strafed toward her, Ducky cried out and bulled Heist to the ground, rolling them both under a nearby sedan. At the same time Ed clapped and transmuted his automail arm, and with a wordless shout, lunged at Bond. Reilly dove for cover under a truck behind the assassin, and Tom found a compact to hide behind that would also give him a fairly clear shot... provided Ed managed to get out of the way.

Maes stumbled back to his previous cover by the off-road truck, and caught sight of Al as he -- lightly, silently -- jumped up the front of the ninjavan then to the roof where the spider rested. He softly clapped his hands, and rested them against the weapon's brushed metal back. White designs flashed across the exterior, brightened, then faded and settled to the muted red of glowing embers. As the spider arose off the van with a hiss of steam, Al looked back at Maes with a hell-bent grin. "I'm an Alchemy NINJA," he mouthed.

~`~`~`~

Ed had his right hand balled into a tight fist and was about to deal a blow that would -- hopefully -- disable Bond, when he caught movement from the corner of his eye above and just out of the assassin's view. The distraction lasted only an instant, but it was enough for the rogue alchemist to get him into a choke-hold. As his vision crept into black, the object moved into full view and Ed stopped struggling. It was just enough and with an exhaled breath, he clenched Bond's wrist, twisted and whirled then jumped back.

The other man sneered arrogantly as he stumbled then quickly regained his footing and reached for his wrist. "You fight well, Fullmetal. Too bad you're--" That was when Bond blinked and glared down at his bare wrist. The only sign that his confidence was shaken was a quick scan with only his eyes over the floor of the garage.

Ed chuckled and dangled the stolen watch between his thumb and forefinger. "Looking for this, asshole?"

Bond snarled and took a step toward Ed, but stopped and a slow, cold smile spread across his face. "Nice work," he said, then gestured with a thumb at the van. "Too bad your attention-span is as short as you are."

Instead of Ed's usual tantrum at the short comment, the young man allowed his arrogant smirk to grow into a huge, triumphant grin.

"You really shouldn't make fun of my brother's height," Al said from his perch on the roof. "He gets upset and then bad things happen to people who tease him like that."

Bond spun, but he never had the chance to look up. He saw the spider just as it leaped from the side of the vehicle and attached itself to him with a hiss and the reek of singed flesh. With an anguished scream, Bond struggled to tear the bomb from his face and chest as he flailed backwards, whirling and falling into a shiny, new SUV.

Ed stared, stunned. He'd never expected his gentle little brother to do something quite so vindictive. He was going to have a talk with him when things calmed down.

A slap on his back and the yanking of his collar broke the spell, as Tom dragged him and nearly tossed him into the van. "Let's go. Now!" he ordered over the rising wail of police sirens.

Ed scrambled to get to the back as the rest of the gang piled in and had barely managed to climb into the far back seat with Al and Heist when he was hurled the rest of the way as the van took off with a screech of burning rubber.

~`~`~`~

As the ninjavan cleared the hospital parking lot and tore into the street, Ducky whooped loud enough to make Tom sitting in the passenger seat next to him wince. "We did it! WediditwediditWEFUCKINGDIDIT!"

“Save the celebration `till we get to Amber's,” Tom said as he hit the speed dial on his cell. “And do you think you could drive like we're not the Dukes of Hazzard?”

Ducky forced his foot to ease off the gas and cast a glance at the side-mirror. The buildings all around them were lit with a whirling, crazy strobing of red and blue, but nothing emerged from the lot they'd just exited. As far as he was concerned, they'd succeeded, and it was going to be easy-peasy on the home-stretch.

“Yeah, Amber,” he heard Tom saying.

A glance into the rear view showed Ducky that everyone was getting settled. No one looked any worse for wear, although they all looked ragged and worn. Reilly was the only one left not in a seat, but she was busy helping Maes get buckled in. The man had banged his bad shoulder some time during the fracas, and now he was sweaty and ashen. His eyes were closed and Ducky thought he might be a bit green about the gills. He genuinely hoped Maes wasn't in too bad of shape… and he also wondered if he had anything on the off-hand chance the man blew chunks. He certainly looked about ready to.

“We're on our way,” Tom said. “Anything you need?”

All the way in the back, Ed and Al were forehead to forehead and talking to each other low enough no one else could hear. Even in the reflected kaleidoscope of light from the police cars' bubbles creating a dizzying bright and dark that bounced off the interior of the ninjavan, Ducky could tell Terminator Jr. was pale and drawn. The alchemy-fu the kid used was as awesome as his brother's, but it took a lot out of him.

“No. No. Looks like we all made it through without too much damage. Might want Alden to take a look at Maes to make sure he didn't damage his shoulder any worse.”

It had always amazed Ducky just how many emotions could play on Ed's face at the same time and now was no different. The kid looked excited and relieved to be reunited with his brother, but at the same time he was deeply worried. What amazed him (and he knew it shouldn't, considering), was just how much Al was like his older brother in that aspect. They're worried more about each other, than themselves.

“So what's the word?” Ducky caught a glimpse of furrowed brows on the older man beside him as he listened. “You sure? We're going to be able to get all the way down there without some local yokel trying to make a name for himself?”

Ducky checked the road ahead of them again, then the side mirror to see they still weren't being followed, then his eyes flicked to the far right corner of the rear view and Heist. She was sitting sideways in the back bench, next to Ed and Al, and watching out through the back window. He couldn't see her face, but she was jammed as far into that corner as she could get with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms were hugging them tightly. She was perfectly still, and that was a bad sign. She was taking the news about Kitten as hard as he'd expected. He also wondered just what Bond had meant when he said he needed her assistance one last time. In the end it didn't matter, as far as he was concerned. She'd saved the day with that massively kick-ass pitch of her walkie at Baldy's head.

“Shit!”

At Tom's explosion, Ducky's eyes snapped back to the front and he instinctively slammed on the brakes. Reilly was thrown off-balance and fell into the back of his seat, shoving him into the steering wheel. He could hear Maes groan in pain from the belt snapping against his shoulder and three distinct thumps of bodies hitting the floorboards all the way in the back along with muttered curses.

What he was more concerned with, however, were the two cop cars that had screeched to a halt at the end of the narrow street and were currently blocking their escape. “Oh, Hell. Now what?”

“Amber, I don't think these guys got the memo!” Tom shouted into the cellphone as Ducky threw the van into reverse and barked the tires going backwards. He hit the brakes as he spun the wheel and flipped it around, kicked it back into drive, and bulleted for the next intersection.

Ducky barely had time to avoid a collision when two more cop cars barreled out of the hospital lot. "Dammit!" He gritted his teeth and slammed his foot into the accelerator, ignoring the startled protests of the rest of the passengers. Yanking the wheel to the right and unbalancing everyone once more, he swerved and squeaked past the second attempted blockade. He winced at the thump and metallic screech as the passenger side hopped onto the curb, then dropped back down with a thud.

He pushed the gas pedal harder in the straight-away, and heard Heist blurt, "Holy Chinoles! That was impressive!"

A glance in the side mirror showed that one of the cops had managed to get turned around and was giving chase. "We got company!"

Tom was shouting into the phone at Amber, and Maes was in the middle of an argument with Reilly about whether they should just stop now and give up until this whole mess could be straightened out. Ed, naturally, had more than a few colorful words about that idea, to which Reilly alternated between shouting at him to shut up and taking his side as she argued with Maes. Ducky didn't say a thing, but wished they'd all just chill so he could concentrate.

"Cooperate until Amber can take care of it,” Tom snapped.

“Bullshit!”

“Brother, we can't fight them."

Ducky didn't slow down.

“You in the black van,” one of the officers bellowed over the loud-speaker. They were close enough that the man probably didn't need the bullhorn, but apparently if the budget paid for it, he had to use it, no matter how painful it was to everyone else. “Pull over now! We know you've got the kid. Let him go, and it'll go a lot easier on you.”

“What the hell?”

“They think I kidnapped my own brother?!”

“Tom,” Reilly said, her voice wavering. “If Al gets separated from us, he'll get lost in the system, and then even Amber won't be able to find him.”

“You're kidding, right?” Ducky asked, as he darted through a red light, barely avoiding getting t-boned by a sports car.

The grim set to Tom's mouth told him that she wasn't.

Ed started to launch himself through the center of the van, but Al yanked him back down with a strength that surprised the hacker. “Brother, wait.”

“They're not separating us, Al.”

Ed was struggling to get free of the smaller Elric's grasp, but Reilly reached back and cuffed him across the cheek. "Park your ass and shut up, Ed!"

The flash of light from the explosion lit up the inside of the van an instant before they heard the deafening thunder clap. Ducky reacted instinctively and slammed on the brakes and the concussion was strong enough when it reached them, that it lifted the back of the van, shoved it twenty feet further before it dropped it with a rattle and protest of strained suspension. Silence rang through the vehicle as everyone digested what, exactly, had just occurred. Casting a quick glance in the side mirror once more, Ducky saw the cops spin and tear back toward the hospital, and then heard Tom softly say, "Let's go before they change their minds."

Ducky swallowed, nodded and hit the gas.

"You're a Goddess, Amber," Tom said into the phone, sounding incredibly relieved.

"Tom, Old Chap, give that woman a big sloppy smooch for me," Ducky said, in a failed attempt to lighten the mood. Instead it came out squeeky and shaky.

"We'll get her a bottle of good scotch instead," Tom said, as he closed the phone and fell back in the seat with his eyes closed.

~`~`~`~

June 4, 2006 -- 2:07 am
Rose Hill, Kansas

Amber poured two highball glasses of scotch, then shoved one across the table to the grey-haired man on the other side. Tom was a young 60, but the dark rings under his eyes and the heavy creases around his mouth made him look so much older. Still, he was holding up rather well, under the circumstances. "You look like you need this," she said.

She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the sound of a hiss. At the far end of the kitchen, the green-eyed man named Maes Hughes was straddling a chair with his arms crossed over the back of it and his shirt missing. Behind him, her husband, was replacing the pulled stitches on his back. She held up the bottle, a silent offer.

Hughes considered it a moment, then nodded. "Maybe it'll--" he winced and grunted as Alden jerked his hand back, adding another stitch to his tender back "--deaden the pain."

Amber poured him a shot, then crossed the room to give it to him. "Either that, or you just won't care."

"Whatever works," Hughes said, then knocked back the shot with a grimace. "Smooth," he said.

"Aye," Alden said, "ye made a good choice." A poke with the needle elicited another gasp and grunt from Hughes. "Although," Alden continued, "I don' think I'll be askin' just how ye managed to get yer hands on this after the liquor stores were all closed."

"Good idea."

Amber was curious about other things, though. The call she'd received before the ragged group arrived had only raised more questions and concerns. Bond was alive and in critical condition, with burns over his face, chest and arms that would leave scars. If he lived. He was currently under guard and unconscious, but the prognosis was uncertain at this point.

The bomb squad had arrived in time to dislodge the bizarre weapon off of him, along with quite a bit of flesh. Unfortunately, time was of the essence and they didn't have the tools or the opportunity to use delicacy. As it was, they'd only managed to sandbag a bunker around the thing just before it blew. The structural damage was minimal, but one of the officers lost his life from flying shrapnel when he was unable to get enough distance before it exploded.

Preliminary reports indicated that this explosive was similar to others that had occurred around the mid-west over the past few months. Which meant that they couldn't identify the catalyst, or any of the components for that matter. At least we know who's responsible now.

She turned her attention back to Tom. He'd be able to fill in the blanks, she was sure. The problem was, would any of it make any sense? The more she learned about the situation involving her old protege, the stranger things became.

With the exception of Hughes and Tom, the motley mob that had arrived on her doorstep were scattered throughout the house, comatose from physical and mental exhaustion. It was just as well. The quiet would help. "So, start from the beginning."

Tom downed his drink without a wince and said, "It's a long story."

"We have all night, dear."

**********

June 4, 1919 - 11:47 am
Central City, Amestris

Roy slipped into a seat at a small table tucked away in a corner of the cafe patio. He'd seen Schiezska safely off early this morning and now it was merely a waiting game. He choked off a yawn when the waiter arrived with the menu and shot him an apologetic glance. When he was alone once more, he attempted to look over today's selection. Unfortunately the list blurred into a single amorphous blob.

He'd been spending far too many nights with insomnia as company, unable to pinpoint why he'd been feeling so anxious of late -- and when he did sleep, it was fitfully; filled with disturbing images that were forgotten the moment he opened his eyes, but left a residue of heartbreak, fear and restiveness.

He yawned again and pulled at his right glove to take it off, but paused with his hands touching. A flash of a polished bronze pony tail whipped in the wake of the small form darting off through the crowd along the boulevard. Roy blinked and tried to focus, but by then the figure had disappeared. Writing it off as a result of sleep deprivation, he pulled both gloves off, and picked up the menu again.

He sensed someone near and peered over the top of the menu just as a lovely woman with a voluptuous hour-glass figure and thick, raven-black hair settled in the seat across the table from him. She dropped an enormous shoulder bag on the patio next to her feet, and gave him a cat-in-the-cream look.

"Muriel," he said, as a genuine smile formed.

"Hello, Roy," she responded with a purr. "I see you took my recommendation for lunch."

He set the menu aside and propped his chin on his folded hands. "You always did have impeccable taste, Dear."

"Of course. I dated you, didn't I?"

Roy cocked a brow and smirked. "Careful there. You'll give me a swelled head."

"Roy Mustang?" she said with feigned shock, "Humble and modest?" She leaned forward, giving him a lovely view of cleavage. "Who are you, and what have you done with the notorious Flame Alchemist?"

He waved off the joke with a chuckle. "Those days are long gone, Muriel."

She arched a brow as she sat back. "Disturbing." Then she leaned down and rifled through her bag and came back up with a manila folder thick with reports. She passed it over to him and said, "That's everything, Lovey. I won't ask why all the secrecy, but none of this is classified information."

He took the folder and scanned the contents quickly. He'd read it more thoroughly later, when he was at home, but for now he wanted to get an idea of what he might be dealing with. "So how are things at the Geological Society?"

"Same ol', same ol'," she said. "We look forward to things getting a little shook up once in awhile." She nodded at the folder. "Those are all the little tremors we've had over the past six months. A lot of the information is pretty sketchy, though. Most of the reported epicenters were out in the wilderness, after all. So it's hearsay information from people who just happened to be in the area when they occurred."

"Between Lior and Ishbal, outside of Rush Valley... Risembool? What was the damage to that one?" Roy asked as he skimmed the report. He found what he was looking for and felt the blood drain from his face. "Am I reading the latitude and longitude correctly? This was about a kilometer south-west of the town?"

"Yeah. No appreciable damage," Muriel said. "There was a house there once, apparently, but it had burned down a few years ago, and no one lives there now."

Roy clenched his jaw, and tried to will his heart-rate to slow. "Did you find the book I asked for?"

"Just waiting for you to ask," she said as she leaned down again and dug in the shoulder bag. She tossed a thick tome onto the table, knocking a layer of dust from the cover and into the air. "What you want with an old anthropology book, though..."

Roy took her hand and brought it to his lips. With a wicked grin, he said, "Weren't you the one who suggested that I would be far more interesting if I would only expand my interests beyond alchemy?"

Muriel winced then chortled. "Leave it to you to make my words come back and bite me in the ass."

"And such a lovely one at that."

The rest of the lunch moved on to lighter subjects and gentle flirting. By the time they'd parted company, though, Roy's mind was back on the files and the book. Anthropology wasn't the entire description. The subject was more refined than that. The book was a little known treatise about some rather ancient religions, and if what Roy suspected was true, those old religions might be able to tell him why tremors had been occurring in the places they have.

He fingered a silver watch in his pocket that wasn't his, and strolled back to work, feeling lighter than he had in the past couple weeks.