Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Of Ballet and Bullets ❯ Mean Guns ( Chapter 13 )

Of Ballet and Bullets

 

Part 13 - Mean Guns

 

A Full Metal Alchemist fanfiction, By Serenanna

 

Warnings and Disclaimers: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist or any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them to play with. I'll return them later, promise. There is violence, adult content, and sexual situations in this story. So, if you're under 18, leave now before your virgin eyes are scarred forever, if you're over 18, enjoy!

 

Story Notes: I'm begging you, dear readers, for the enjoying of everyone else reading this fic eventually, don't spoil it by giving away the plot twists about to drop from here on out to the end of the climax (heh). Given the build up to this point, it would be a disservice to your fellow readers. Time frame for this fic doesn't matter as my knowledge of FMA is a bit scattered but obviously before the ending and Maes's death, and set during the anime series. Also, this is an Ed/Winry and Roy/Riza fic (Two for the price of one!). Being this is fanfiction, liberties were taken with the actions of the characters and certain parts of the fic are not canonal, I just don't know which ones. Read the above disclaimers again if you're still squeamish about reading this, blood splatter included, but I assure you, it'll be worth it in the end probably. Again, no pieces of automail, skirts, guns, tuxedoes, or ballet dancers were harmed in the production of this piece of . . . well . . .

 

**********

 

The music had stopped.

 

The panicked screams outside their little box would have been deafening if it weren't for the new walls separating the two alchemists and the two women from danger, for now. There was the sound of rushing, shouting, but no more gunfire. Riza was the first to spring into action in the aftermath, digging into Roy's pants pocket and coming out with a handkerchief. She tied it over the wound on his arm, the white cloth quickly became saturated with blood. Furiously, the usually unflappable Lieutenant was muttering under her breath, “I knew it, I just knew it. How could I be so stupid? So slow? I should have seen it before, but I just knew it.”

 

“Does this mean I'll hear the `I told you so's' now or later in full chorus?” Mustang asked, frowning at the bandage over his arm.

 

“No, I'll be saving them for a rainy day,” she said in all seriousness till her eyes met his, the unintentional meaning clicking in her head as she slowly grinned, “That isn't what I meant.”

 

“Could have fooled me . . .”

 

“Roy . . .” Riza said, her slight humor at the disastrous situation dissolving into a threatening glare, “Not now.”

 

“No shit,” Ed grumbled across from them, getting back to his feet after he had knocked the Colonel over, “We need to get out of here.”

 

A small whimper of fear came from across the box, and the young alchemist looked over to see Winry's blue eyes staring back at him, as wide as saucers. His heart clenched in his chest while looking at her petrified form pressed back against the wall. The feeling only got worse as her small voice finally spoke, “What's going on, Ed?”

 

“I'm sorry, Winry. I can't explain now, when we're out of here, and safe, I'll-.”

 

A new emotion flashed across her face. Fear was replaced with anger as the pieces in her head clicked, “This is another one of your missions, isn't it?”

 

Ed's face fell, unable to deny it any longer, “Well . . .”

 

The mechanic's face contorted in full fury, taking on the look that came over her before he received a wrench to the head. Before she could even think about finding a weapon to use on him, Riza broke in, “Punish him later. We need to move. Fullmetal, evacuation plan B, now.”

 

He resisted the urge to salute and dropped back down into a crouch at Winry's feet, lifting her skirt. “Ed!” she screeched, pulling a foot back to kick him, “This isn't a time for-!”

 

Her words were cut off by a clap and rush of light followed by feeling his hands on her shoes. She sunk lowering onto the ground, blinking as he backed away and skittered over towards the Lieutenant. “You transmuted my shoes?” she asked, still in a bit of shock.

 

“Would you rather run in heels?”

 

Ed had a point there, which made Winry's mouth snap shut. Roy was back on his feet, pulling off his gloves to reveal a second set underneath, red transmutation circle on the surface. There was another clap, and Riza's heels were suddenly turned into flats as well. Yet, she seemed to ignore the sudden change while messing with her handbag. The pistol that appeared in her hand made the girl's eyes widen in fear. The amount of ammunition she saw in the woman's purse didn't help either. The woman pulled out a strap from within, using it to tie the container over her waist, ready to pull another clip at a moment's notice. “We're taking the stairs down the back to the stage loading dock. From there it's just a dash down the street to the car we arrived in, Roy?” Riza said, pulling the hammer back on the gun.

 

“I have the spare keys, but we should regroup and stick to the plan. Hughes should be waiting for us on the third floor since-,” he tried to explain, dark brows furrowing.

 

“That was when you weren't the target, Colonel! I will not-!”

 

She would have shouted at him further if it weren't for the sudden crash of gunfire ringing around them. Despite themselves, everyone in the box ducked at least until it registered that it was in the hall above them. Riza put her head up, listening to the sound, “It's in the distance, maybe one of the balconies. Sir . . . please?”

 

Her brown eyes turned to Roy, pleading with him to listen. Despite how much he wanted to resist and stick to the plan, she had a point. Everything had changed, whether he liked it or not. “Alright. Take point, Lieutenant. Take the rear guard, FullMetal. Miss Winry . . .” Roy said as he turned to the girl, frowning in a profound sorrow that made his black eyes droop, “I'm sorry . . .”

 

She nodded, looking down at the carpet, “Thank you, sir . . . I just want to go home . . .”

 

No more needed to be said after that, even if it took all of Ed's will to keep from saying something. Damnit! Why was he letting the bastard apologize to her in the first place!? He didn't deserve her understanding! This was all Roy's plan and fault to begin with, and Winry was forgiving the prick and not him! He wanted to scream and yell at the unfairness of it all till one look in his girl's blue eyes quelled his temper. She was disappointed in him, and the truth was, he disappointed himself. All he could do now was make sure she was safe. “Edward,” Riza called from the curtained passage, snapping his thoughts.

 

Taking a deep breath, Ed fell in line as they filed out. He took one look back at the alchemized wall with regret. His life was off the hook, but suddenly, he wished it wasn't.

 

**********

 

Chaos, utter chaos. Those were the only words Falman and Fuery could describe the state of the balcony as while crouched down against the railing. As soon as the light had flashed from the right side of the hall, panic broke out on the floor beneath them and quickly grew till throughout the auditorium. The screams of terrified women and shouts of men only seemed to grow louder as the audience was on their feet. A crack of gun shots hitting the railing before the two men triggered the stampede, forcing them down as people rushed for the exits.

 

The sound was deafening, barely able to hear the continued cracking sound of metal shots hitting wood let alone each other. How had they been targeted? How did they know where they even were? Where was Maes or the Colonel when they needed them? Where was anyone that could help them? “These handguns are useless! We need to get to the rifles! Where'd the First Lieutenant assign them?!” Vato shouted over the noise.

 

“Two sets on this balcony! One to the right and one to the left! They should be in compartments in the floor Major FullMetal made!” Kain yelled back, eyeing the quick moving crowd wearily, “But how are we going to get though that!?”

 

Falman grabbed the Master Sergeant by the collar and pulled him along. He turned and started crawling towards the right end of the balcony, barely avoiding the feet of people running in the opposite direction towards the doors. The gunfire had stopped at least until they heard return fire from the balcony below them. They both froze at the noise, wondering who it was down there. Havoc and Heymans were supposed to have that floor while Armstrong covered the hallway. “Keep moving. They need help,” the Warrant Officer said before crawling once more.

 

***********

 

The hallway ringing the performance hall was packed with people pushing and shoving their way to supposed safety and away from the danger. The two alchemists and their companions seemed to be in the middle of it as they stepped out of the curtained doorway. Riza's natural instinct was to press back against the wall amidst the sea of panicked people before them, nearly cutting off the other three behind her. Stepping to the side, she looked up in time to see someone else struggling through the tide of people and coming straight towards them. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw the man reach into his jacket once Roy came out from behind the curtain. “Down!” she yelled, shoving the Colonel out of the way.

 

Without thinking, she brought her pistol up and shot.

 

The sound cracked as more people screamed around them. The man went down clutching his shoulder, disappearing in the new stampede. Riza moved forward to investigate, heartbeat pounding, when a hand grasped her shoulder to draw her back. “Let's go!” Roy shouted in her ear, propelling her away by force.

 

She turned just in time to see another man coming towards them, shoving through the crowd till he was almost on top of them. Before the First Lieutenant could whip the gun around, a small plume of flames exploded through the air in front of them, coming from Mustang's hand over her shoulder. She shut her eyes tightly at the flash and heat and tried not to add her screams to the others around her, opening them to see nothing but black char at her feet where the man had been. Riza's stomach quivered at the sight and smell. The only thing that settled it again was the relief that they were still alive. Winry emerged next, having the same reaction to the sight that the Lieutenant had suppressed as she covered her mouth and nose, “Oh God . . .”

 

It took Edward coming up behind the mechanic and hauling her away to keep her from retching. The color drained away from the faces of the two adults as they stood together over the body of their would-be killer. Ed was right. Their assassins were after Roy and had laid in wait for them just in case. They weren't safe there anymore. “What if they know the rest of the plans?” the Colonel asked, barely audible over the screams around them.

 

That was one question Riza didn't want to know the answer to, “We need to go, sir, now.”

 

She moved forward around the ash and fired a shot straight up into the ceiling. The crowd parted on instinct away from them, giving them a wide opening in which to run. Turning away, she led them through the hallway and passed the rushing crowd towards the set of stairs, not bothering to look back or make sure they followed. Roy's hand on the back of her bare waist was all the reassurance she needed that they were still alive and moving.

 

***********

 

Havoc ducked again as more bullets spray into the railing before him, cracking the wood. The crowd on his level had thinned out to just people jamming through the doors, obvious to all except the need for safety.

 

Well, this wasn't totally unexpected, but he had been anticipating that he could have at least hit something in that box by now. He just knew their assassin would end up coming from that particular area of the theater hall after speaking with the Lieutenant Colonel. It was the same box on the third floor Heymans was last seen outside, with her. Why did the First Lieutenant have to be so damned right about the woman? He'd been watching closely afterwards, unable to see much till the long barrel emerged from the darkness of the enclosure. Upon the sight of it, he ran for one of the rifles they'd hidden around the theater earlier that week.

 

That was how he ended up there, crouched under the railing, cursing that Maes had taken Armstrong off his floor to pursue this new development. He was the one being shot at now, damnit! The hail of gunfire stopped, and he popped up again, firing a few more rounds across the theater. Jean ducked again in the return fire, reloading more shots into the rifle. Nothing. He'd hit nothing. As he waited for the enemy to stop and reload, more gunfire exploded from the balcony above him, the sudden crack making him wince. It sounded like two shots. Fuery and Falman were on that floor. Guess he wasn't alone anymore. “Took you both long enough!” Havoc shouted, turning to shoot as the enemy sprayed upwards instead of on his position.

 

Having been bought enough time, Jean looked through the rifle's scope, barely able to make out the movement in the dark box. If Breda was still in there, somewhere, he couldn't see him. “Shit . . .” he cursed, realizing the only thing he could see clearly was the gun before he was being shot at again.

 

He ducked. What was he going to do? He had to hit something. If they could kill this bastard assassin now then it would all be over, and this strange case could go down in department history. Major FullMetal would be safe, for a little while, and office life could return to normal. Normal, yeah, like that would ever happen. Since when was any of their lives ever normal? Fire returned from above him, and the assassin's bullets went up again to the third balcony. Havoc popped up, aimed into the darkness of their target's location, and opened fire.

 

The gunfire from within the box stopped.

 

“Yes!” Jean shouted in triumph, fist pumping in the air, “Take that you fucking bastards!”

 

His celebration was cut short as a rumble jolted the floor under his feet, knocking him down. Havoc looked away as a burst of purple-tinged light shot forth from across the hall with a sizzle of energy. Alchemy, but were they on their side? When the light died down, a series of sharp spikes jutted out from the box in all directions. It had to be Armstrong's work. Jean paled. Breda could have been in there. Slinging the rifle over his shoulder, Havoc took off running.

 

**********

 

Somewhere along the way of running through the hallways and stairwells of the Conservatory, Havoc met up with Fuery and Falman on the third floor. All three officers ran in the same direction towards the source of their problems, the box for the interrupted ballet performance that night credited to one Marguerite Everard. And yet, as they got closer, they slowed down at the sight of Lieutenant Colonel Hughes sprawl on his rump and panting on the marble floor in front of the form of Second Lieutenan Heymans Breda, who was passed out and snoring. Major Armstrong loomed in the background, seeming idly restraining a man in a tuxedo who was thrashing and shouting wildly against the tall, muscular alchemist, attempting to break free.

 

There was only one thing missing from this happy picture. Well, four seeming related things Jean realized as he blinked, “Where's the Colonel and company?”

 

Maes frowned at him, “I was about to ask you the same thing. None of you saw him? Or the First Lieutenant? Or Major FullMetal? Or Miss Rockbell?”

 

Three heads shook at him, making the Lieutenant Colonel groan, “They must have broke the main plan and evacuated. We can get to the bottom of this though.”

 

“Excuse me for being blunt, sir, but what the hell happened to him?” Falman asked, pointing towards the unconscious Breda on the ground.

 

“A woman it appears,” Maes said with a highly amused grin.

 

“Lucky bastard . . .” Fuery muttered with a frown.

 

“Unlucky, I'd say,” Havoc added with a sniff, digging for his pack of cigarettes in his tuxedo jacket, “Said woman could crack glass with her laugh alone. One of her goons must have punched his lights out before the shooting started. He looks fine, but probably will get a splitting headache the moment he wakes up.”

 

“This was where we found him, so I'd assume you're not too far off,” Maes said as he scratched the hair on his chin, contemplative, “Guess she liked him enough not to get him killed in the firefight accidentally, but . . .”

 

“Um, speaking of which . . . where is she? This Margie woman?”

 

“Margie who?” Falman and Fuery asked in unison, looking highly confused.

 

Maes shrugged, “Marguerite Everard, one of Roy's many conquests. She seems mixed up in this.”

 

“Mixed up? I'm starting to think she caused this whole mess,” Havoc said with a frown.

 

“We still don't know that. If we knew where she was, it would help.”

 

“She's gone, you fucking assholes! Let me the hell go!” Armstrong's captive shouted, jumping again despite the Strong Arm alchemist's tight grip. The attention of all the officers turned towards the man, seeming to take him into consideration for the first time. “This would be one of her goons, I'd assume,” Maes said as he got up off the floor stiffly, and walked closer, “You're not too bright are you?”

 

“Go to hell!” the man shouted back. Hughes' eyes narrowed behind the glasses, frowning deeply. Of course this always happened. Suspects always resisted questioning. Unfortunately, with Mustang and his party missing, every second counted and should be wasted on idiots like that guy obviously was. Maes glanced up at Alex, who nodded then brought down a large gauntlet-covered hand on the suspect's neck and shoulder. He cringed at the pain, only to seemingly cower more so as the alchemist's hand began to squeeze.

 

“Now that wasn't a very nice thing to say to Lieutenant Colonel Hughes,” Armstrong scolded, sounding almost cheery in his lecturing, “You should apologize right away, and then answer his questions well, especially the one's pertaining to your association with Delmark Arms and Miss Everard. A beauty she may be, but is such a woman worth protecting in the face of such . . . overwhelming villainy?”

 

To accentuate his point, Alex's hand tightened to the point of nearly crushing the man's collar bone, making him shout in pain.

 

“I'll talk! I'll talk! I'm sorry!” He cried out as the hand let up slightly, “She told us to protect the box while she shot at the dark haired guy! She didn't want to kill him, just scare him in to running! She's got some other people I've never seen before stationed to capture him! I saw them milling outside the back of the building before I got here! I don't know where she left to, or where she's taking him! But she's gone! The bitch is gone, and I know nothing else!”

 

“So you don't know her base of operations?” Maes asked, his eyebrows knitting together at the revelation.

 

“I don't know! I only do security for Delmark! She ordered a few of us just to protect her and that pit bull of hers for tonight! She didn't tell us anything till her bodyguard knocked out that tubby guy, and then she started pulling out the rifle pieces from under her gown! She's crazy!”

 

“Shit . . .” Havoc cursed in the background, rubbing a hand down his face, “Where's the bodyguard? How many men did she have here?”

 

“He's dead,” Armstrong and Hughes said in unison, frowning as they pointed towards the box's curtain before the Lieutenant Colonel added, “Two other dead guys in there too. We found this one cowering in the corner. Some security you are, buddy.”

 

“It's a job! I ain't getting killed for that bitch! There's like two dozen of them that I saw anyway! What are you gonna do against that many?!”

 

“Damn . . .” Jean cursed again, groaning, “If there's that many waiting for the Colonel, he'd in trouble.”

 

“What else do you know?” Alex asked, a heavy, intimidating tone to his voice that was decidedly uncharacteristic of the gregarious man. The would-be killer almost squeaked his answer, “I know nothing! I swear!”

 

“Alright, it's obvious this was just a distraction for us. The First Lieutenant was right after all it seems. We need to find the Colonel and the other teams, and track this woman down,” Maes said as he turned back to the other officers, “Falman, take out lovely contestant here into custody, and wait for the police to show up. Explain the story without going into details. Fuery, get on the phone to my department. Brosch and Ross should be in tonight. I want them to dig up everything they can on Everard, addresses or real estate in her name specifically, also places her company owns, warehouses, storage yards, anything suspicious. I need it as fast as they can find it. Havoc, patrol around the outside. Look for anyone suspicious, any large trucks, or the Colonel and company, and take them out if you can. Armstrong, head down to the Colonel's box, and see if you can trail them. Knowing Mustang, just follow the flames.”

 

“Sir!” the four officers snapped to attention, saluting him before running off with their new orders. Once they were gone, Hughes turned his attention back to Breda, frowning at the man's snoring. He had no idea how lucky he was right now just to be alive, even if he was incapacitated. The Second Lieutenant was also lucky that most of the details of this adventure were going to be cooked into oblivion before being presented in reports to the top brass. Dereliction of duty could have gotten him court-martialed if it ever came out. Yet then again, this whole case was spiraling out of control. Attempting to keep it under wraps could get them all kicked out of the military or locked down for a good long while . . . or it would have if Major General Mitchell wasn't preoccupied with his new secretary. Thank God for paperwork bureaucracy and lazy, oversexed Generals.

 

There was snort and grunt in the middle of Heymans's sleep followed by groaning, “Make it stop, mommy.”

 

Maes smirked, “Rise and shine, sleeping ugly.”

 

The face that had previously been pressed into the cold marble floor turned towards him, one eye cracked open slightly, “Huh? What the hell happened?”

 

“I was hoping you'd tell me?”

 

“Ugh . . . I think I was kissing a girl then saw nothing but black . . . must have been some kiss.”

 

Hughes snorted in chuckles, “You were knocked out by her bodyguard I think. Smooth, very smooth, Breda.”

 

The rotund man chuckled too then winced at the growing throb in his head, “Don't tell the Colonel? I don't think I'll ever live it down . . . Ugh, where is the Colonel? You look like hell. Did we get the assassin?”

 

“That's a long story . . . can you move?”

 

Slowly, Breda struggled to get up from the floor, stopping ever so often to rub the bump on his head, “I think I'm fine. Might not be too useful though . . .”

 

“You went over all the evacuation plans and the map of this place with Lieutenant Hawkeye, right?”

 

“Yes, sir, but I don't see how-.”

 

“What's the quickest way from here to the outside?”

 

“The stairwell all the way at the end, then though the door under the stage to the backstage and out onto the back streets. It's quicker than heading to the lobby, or, if we were on the right, quicker than taking the loading docks. The First Lieutenant insisted on the stage loading dock in case of an emergency though. Havoc should have parked their car not far from there . . . Why do you ask, sir?”

 

Hughes frowned and walked back into the box to pick up the discarded sniper's rifle as well as a shotgun, throwing the latter into Breda's hand. He fumbled with the weapon, nearly dropping it before getting a good grip on the stock.

 

“They're walking into a trap. Come on, Second Lieutenant. If this woman knows everything I think she knows, the Colonel's going to need all the help he can get,” Maes said as he walked down the hall towards the stairs mentioned previously before breaking into a run.

 

Heymans followed him, trying to run as well. This was perfect. First, he gets knocked out after getting the first taste of action in months. And now, here he was, running into more action but of a different variety, the type that made him gulp down on the hard lump in his throat between pants. He grumbled breathlessly to himself, “This night just keeps getting better and better.”

 

**********

 

After taking to the stairwells, the speed of the four people slowed down till they were almost crawling along walls in their descent. Riza wasn't taking any chances, watching every corner from her point position. The adrenaline in her system was still high after the encounter in the hallway, expecting similar people after them from every corner. The only thing that kept her calm enough to function well at that moment was Roy's hand on her back, the touch reassuring her that he was still there. Behind her, Edward was similarly paranoid as he stuck close to Winry at all times while walking precariously down the steps backwards and looking upwards for anyone chasing them.

 

The tension in the air seemed to seep into all of them, even the mechanic girl as she moved hesitantly with each step downwards. A chill ran down her spine at even the slightest sound, not having felt this sort of tension in a while. The last incident where she'd been dragged into Ed's military world was when they had both been captured by that killer Barry the Chopper. It wasn't something she'd ever thought she'd experience again, but this, this was much more nerve-wracking than being chained to a meat hook while watching Ed do battle. Why couldn't one of them have given her a weapon? Maybe not a gun, but why not something blunt and heavy that she could have thrown or swung at someone? Perhaps only then would she have felt not quite so much like useless baggage.

 

Riza stopped when they reached another landing, getting closer to the door that led into the theater's underground. The party trailing her stopped as well. Roy stood over her shoulder on the next step up, cautiously whispering in her ear, “What is it?”

 

The door below them was open, her eyes on it.

 

It was faint, but she was sure she had heard a shuffle of feet that wasn't theirs. Maybe it was her paranoia acting up again. Her foot rose up to take another step, but stopped in a heartbeat when a noise shattered the silence. Someone had coughed, and it wasn't any of the three people behind her. Roy moved past her on the stone stairs, fingers clicking. Orange-red plumes of flame filled the well and the door below them followed by the screams of men and shouting. “They're here! They're in the stairs! Move!” came from below them.

 

“Everyone back up!” Roy shouted as Ed had already turned, pulling Winry by the hand with him back up the steps. The two officers followed till the young alchemist stopped on the next landing. There were feet pounding down the stairs from above them. “Damnit! I knew it!” he shouted, letting go of the girl's hand to clap his together before touching the wall.

 

Blue-white light and crackles of energy filled the stairwell as Winry screamed from nearly being blinded. When it was over, the eldest Elric was already halfway through the new hole in the wall and beckoning the rest of them forward. None of them wasted any time in following as the shouts above and below became louder. As soon as they were all through, another clap came from the young alchemist as he crouched to touch the ground at his feet. The wall sprouted back in place, silencing the passage as well as plunging them into darkness when the light faded. “Brilliant, FullMetal. Now we're stuck,” Roy complained, unable to see anything before him, “No one move.”

 

“We're alive, aren't we? And it's better than you roasting us alive!” Ed yelled, scowling in the dark.

 

“Oh, yes. Like you two yelling at each other is helping a lot,” Winry said, highly annoyed.

 

“Quit it, all of you. We need to find out where we are, and find another exit. The loading dock is now out of the question,” Riza said as she tried to find a wall or something to orient herself with in the dark. With a small start, she bumped into something soft, grasping handfuls of fabric. “Riza! Hold on! You ok?” Roy yelled, sounding obviously concerned.

 

“I'm fine, Roy . . . a light would help though.”

 

Fingers clicked in the dark, soft golden light springing to life. The flame held in the air just above Mustang's fingers, long enough for him to find a light switch on a wall. The soft light was replaced by harsh, bright bulbs over hear that illuminated a riot of colors around them. Somehow, they'd stumbled into one of the ballet's storage rooms and into the wardrobe department specifically. Riza clung to a rack full of red velvet costumes after stumbling into it, the rich material hanging around her yellow hair as she scowled, “Well, this is much better.”

 

Roy helped her up, and pushed her ahead of him, “Come on, Lieutenant. This is no time to be playing with clothes.”

 

Her mouth opened to argue with him, but snapped shut again as she marched forward. He could vaguely hear the grumbling in her wake, something along the lines of him not being worth the effort. The two teenagers filled in behind the two adults as they moved through the maze of racks and boxes, past props and screens while looking for a way out in silence again. “This place didn't look that big on the maps . . .” Ed wondered out loud, staring up at the arched vaults over their heads.

 

“Stay focused, FullMetal, at least till we're home,” Roy muttered.

 

“You mapped the place you took me for a date? Why didn't you just station men in blue uniforms all over the building while you were at it?” Winry groused bitterly, the veins in her forehead popping in anger.

 

“Of course not, that would have been too obvious. They were all in tuxedos too,” Ed said under his breath.

 

His date's anger exploded as she stopped walking to turn on him, “Oh that just makes it so much better!”

 

“Children, please save it for later?” Riza begged as she pushed past more dusty props before adding in a whisper to herself, “When I can properly punish the Colonel for this crazy plan too.”

 

“I heard that, Lieutenant,” Roy growled, about to continue on till he saw something along one of the walls, “Riza, do you remember what was outside of here on the map?”

 

The blonde in the black gown paused, thinking over his question before answering, “The storage should lead to a hallway along which was the dance studios. At the end of hall was stairs down to the stage door or up to the backstage . . . why?”

 

“That's how we're getting out. We just have to find the door, and I think I see it. This way,” Roy said as he moved past her. They wove through more crates till the Colonel stopped in front of heavy set of metal doors. Testing the knobs, he quickly realized though that they were locked shut, “Damn . . . FullMetal?”

 

“Right, one locksmith, coming right up,” Ed said as he clapped his hands together before touching the door. The steel dissolved away onto the ground in the light, the doorway cleared when their sight returned to normal. Stepping into the new hallway, the young alchemist stopped suddenly, seeing something in the dark. As the others started to come through behind him, Ed turned and barreled into Riza, who in turn was pushed back into Roy, who almost fell onto Winry. “Back! Get back!” he shouted in warning before the sound of gunfire filled the air over their heads.

 

All four collapsed in a pile over a set of now cracked crates, bullets passing above them. Disoriented, Hawkeye could hear shouting in the distance along with running footsteps, “They're here! Storage! Contain them!”

 

Crouching behind one of the wooden boxes, the Lieutenant fired into the darkness around the door. There was a scream of pain and an immediate return of gunfire as the others hit the floor as well. “You just gave away our position!” Roy yelled at her.

 

“What am I suppose to do?! Not fire back?!” Riza shouted, squeezing off another bullet in the dark which was followed with soft thud, “That's two . . .”

 

“Call for reinforcements!”

 

“Shit,” all three officers cursed as Mustang turned to Ed, “Any ideas, pipsqueak?”

 

“Why me?!”

 

“Because you got us in here, idiot, now get us out!” Winry yelled at him, glaring from her spot behind a crate.

 

“How was I supposed to know they were following Colonel Bastard this much?!” he shouted, nearly standing up when more bullets passed over their heads and into the wooden crates. Winry yelped at the noise and Riza ducked again. The two women glared collectively at the men, the fury in their eyes speaking much on what they wanted. Edward grabbed mechanic, drawing her into his lap before yelling over the gunfire, “Everyone hold on to something!”

 

His hands clapped together and touched the stone floor under them.

 

Blue-white light arched upwards around them in a circle with a loud spark. Riza's gunfire stopped as Roy pulled her close, shielding her as a series of booms echoed around them through the stone. The floor dropped suddenly with a jarring pitch, falling straight down and taking them with it. Their shouts were lost in the sound of the crash on the floor below. A cloud of dust floated upwards in the aftermath, making them cough as if the disorientation from the impact wasn't bad enough. Despite not knowing where they were or where they were going, Roy pulled the Lieutenant with him as he staggered off the floor's remains. He sounded choked on the dust, almost croaking when he spoke, “We need, to move, go, FullMetal.”

 

“Couldn't, agree, more,” he coughed every other word, wobbling to his feet while yanking Winry with him. They'd been plunged into darkness again, only a shaft of light spiraling downward from above illuminated anything around them. Feet pounded above them as soon as they were enfolded in the inky blackness, coming closer to when the stone floor had fallen away. Ed hugged the blonde tight when she tried to run at the approaching sound, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep her from coughing, “Don't move or speak.”

 

Roy and Riza held their breaths as well, peering up into the light and waiting for their enemy's approach. Shadowed figures peered over the edge of the hole, looking down. The Flame Alchemist's fingers snapped, fire shooting upwards as horrified screams cried out over their heads. None of them stayed see the aftermath of the fireball, running through what was an underground passage. There seemed to be nothing but darkness ahead of them till the barren hallway gave way to a few dim gas lamps overhead. From then on, it seemed that there was nothing but one narrow, exceedingly long way ahead of them. “I'm having bad flashbacks,” Ed muttered as they got further away from the scene, “We're not lost, are we?”

 

“This passage connects the loading dock to the freight elevator by the stage door. We're heading towards the dock,” Riza said, moving back to take the lead, “I don't like this.”

 

“They could have abandoned the docks now after I firebombed the stairs,” Roy added, his hand on her back again.

 

“I still don't like it.”

 

“Flashbacks of what, Ed? Being lost?” Winry asked, her gown hiked up almost to her knees as she ran.

 

“Don't ask,” Colonel Mustang and the pint-sized Major muttered in unison. The young woman huffed, shutting up as the passage turned another corner. After a moment, she complained bitterly, “Why do I even bother anymore? Getting answers out of you is harder than making you sit still long enough to fix your automail. I can't believe I let you talk me into this visit.”

 

Ed grumbled but didn't reply to her ranting, frowning more with each step while glaring daggers at Roy's back. When this was all over, that bastard was going to pay for single-handed ruining his relationship with Winry, or so help him he'd . . .. Well, he wasn't too sure what he'd do, but he was certainly going to make sure pain and humiliation was involved.

 

Soon enough, the hallway stopped at another closed door, causing a collective, exhausted groan from all of them. “I'll get it . . .” Ed said sullenly as he tried to get past Roy to the door.

 

Riza beat him to it, firing a shot through the doorknob that startled the others to jump. She then kicked the door wide open. The Colonel grinned, “That's my girl.”

 

Ignoring the comment, the Lieutenant marched right on through while they fell back into line behind her. The light was as dim as where they're just emerged from, each watching the expansive area for any movement. It was empty and cold, winter wind blowing through the large open door before them. There was nothing but snow outside as well as the night. “It looks clear . . .” Winry said softly, somewhat relieved as they kept walking.

 

“Don't say that. You could jinx us,” Roy muttered under his breath, brow furrowing.

 

Riza resisted rolling her eyes, “I didn't know you were that superstitious, sir. I would have brought a few lucky rabbit's feet.”

 

“Or maybe a four-leaf clover,” Ed snickered, still looking out for danger.

 

Mustang bristled in anger, “Just yuck it up now. When this is over, you'll both be-.”

 

The gas lights abruptly died, the overhead door slammed shut, and the sound of metallic clicks in the air stopped the words from his mouth, replacing it with a curse, “Shit.”

 

In the darkness, the shouting started all around them, “Drop your weapon! Put up your hands!”

 

Ed could barely see in front of him except for the brilliant purple of his love's gown and her pale hair. Suddenly that spot of color was yanked sharply to his right and surrounded by black. He screamed and tried to lunge forward, “Winry!”

 

She screamed as well, struggling in the hold on her wrists with all her strength. And yet, her fight was reduced to a whimper when a click sounded by her head, the barrel of a gun pressed to her temple. Lights flooded back on, brighter than before. The overhead door rumbled open to reveal the back end of a large truck parked in the bay. About a dozen men surrounded them, each armed with rifles and masked in black. Ed's heart slammed in his chest at the sight, his worst nightmare given to reality. They might have well just put the gun to his head as well, not that it made a difference. The man holding her shouted, “Don't move, punk, or I'll shoot!”

 

“Winry!”

 

“Do as they say, FullMetal!” Roy shouted, sighing in resignation as he put his hands up, “They got us . . .”

 

“Sir . . .”

 

“Put your gun down, Riza . . .”

 

“But-.”

 

“Do it.”

 

“Do it, bitch, or we'll blow her head off!”

 

Ed snarled in fury, but the Lieutenant's clip popped free of the gun and clattered on the floor, followed by the pistol itself. It wasn't supposed to end like this. And yet, how it ended the young alchemist wouldn't know as something struck the back of his head hard, knocking him out cold. He collapsed to the floor as Winry screamed, tears running down her face as she tried to fight. Roy was struck on the head as well, dropping like a rock with groan. “Colonel! Roy!” Riza shouted as well, turning to rush towards him till one of their attackers' snagged her wrist and snapped her back.

 

Hawkeye shouted and fought as the men struggled to hold her back. They cursed and shouted at her biting and kicking till one of them hit her with a punch to the gut. The air was knocked from the First Lieutenant's lungs as she doubled over in pain, going limp. Whoever held her pinned her arms to her back and started binding her wrists together with rope while she was still weak. Winry didn't fight back as they tied her hands to the front, watching numbly as they also bound the two alchemists. It wasn't supposed to end up like this, captured, their fates unknown. The bleakness was clear on Riza's face, hanging her head to keep from showing the tears leaking from her eyes.

 

A leader emerged from their attackers in the form of the man holding the mechanic still, shouting over her head, “Get them all in the truck, and quick.”

 

“Sir, instructions were only for the male, the dark-haired one.”

 

“Instructions changed an hour ago. She wants the blonde too.”

 

“Which one?”

 

“The bitch who bit Alfred.”

 

“What about the twerps, sir?”

 

“Insurance policies. No one will miss them I think.”

 

Winry's ire rose at the man's harsh words, tempted to tell him that Ed would be highly missed by the State being the FullMetal Alchemist and all. Yet, wisely, her jaw snapped shut and clenched in anger. They didn't need to know who they were messing with while they were still alive. Even with the pain slamming through her heart at the sight of Edward on the ground, there was still hope. He was alive, not dead. They both were, even if they were being carted away. He was brilliant. He'd find a way to save them all right? Winry looked over at Riza, who was tugged back to her feet and towards the truck waiting for them. The two women didn't say anything, but the shared look said enough. It wasn't over yet.

 

***********

 

It was silent in the dead of the winter night but not quite that dark as the snow reflected the moonlight. Beyond the panicked crowd of audience members and performers milling outside the Conservatory for the Arts of Central City, waiting for the military and local police to show up, a non-descript white truck stood in the dock at the back of the building flanked by three cars. The sight struck Jean as mighty odd for this time of night, and seeing men dressed in black wasn't comforting either. He was positive those were the bunch of goons they were looking for, peeking at the activity from his spot at the corner of the building.

 

For a moment, he thought about being a hero, charging over there, and shooting as many as he could till he realized that he was vastly out numbered at the amount of men spilling out of the loading dock. Two dozen of them, just like their chicken suspect turned witness had said. Moments later, the truck's engine roared to life along with the cars. The men were piling into the vehicles. They were leaving. Havoc pressed back against a shallow alcove in stonework as they rumbled up the street and away from him. All four vehicles were gone, save for the tracks in the snow covered streets.

 

Turning back to the now empty street, he saw the side door open. Out came Hughes and Breda, both looking at him curiously as he shouted, “They're gone! There were three cars! One truck! Gone!”

 

“Damnit!” Maes cursed, knocking on the metal railing in front of him as the snow flew up into the air. He walked down the stairs onto the sidewalk with Heymans trailing behind them, meeting Havoc at the open loading dock. He didn't look happy, still looked hopeful, “Are they still inside maybe?”

 

At that moment, Armstrong appeared on the edge of the bay, clutching two items, “I'd say our dear, lovely Lieutenant Hawkeye at least is gone from here.”

 

The alchemist held up her pistol in one hand and the matching clip in the other. All four men paled slightly. “She pulled out the bullets. We all know Riza isn't the type of woman to casually do that,” Maes said softly.

 

“They're captured . . .” Havoc said, “We need a car.”

 

“And I need a phone, plus backup.”

 

“But we don't know where they're going,” Breda said as Jean walked into the street, following him. Hughes went in the opposite direction around towards the front of the Conservatory with Armstrong following him after jumping down from the dock. As the two groups of officers parted ways, he realized that knowledge of the location the Colonel was being taken to either wasn't as important as he thought or they already had a plan. He frowned, betting even money in his head on the latter. He'd better be right. Mustang's life was sort of in the balance now, but then again, when was it not?

 

Heymans frowned, trudging through the snow, “You and Hughes do have a plan right?”

 

Havoc grinned, “Naw, we're just sort of winging the whole thing.”

 

Somehow, he didn't believe that entirely either.

 

**********

 

To Be Continued in Of Ballet and Bullets, Part 14, Dirty Pretty Things.