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Edward Elric didn’t stand up for the report duty.
Have you heard this one before?
Well, nothing new.
Roy have also ignored that. Things happened. Trains broke down, phones cut out, kids overslept their stops, sometimes even ate some suspicious food and spent the day puking their guts out into the toilet.
So, he kept working.
Until the phone rang.
“Colonel Roy Mustang,” he introduced himself when he picked up the phone.
Behind him, in the background, there were crackles indicating that the caller was holding the phone incorrectly, probably in a room with poor acoustics.
“I’m telling you, that bastard won’t even pick up,” he heard Edward’s distant voice. Ah. A smile spread across his face.
“I can barely hear you. What’s going on, Fullmetal? Can’t you reach the handset?”
He pulled the phone away from his ear so the burst of anger wouldn’t damage his eardrums.
Among the crackles of the handset, a voice emerged. Too quiet to be an insult and too deep to be a child’s.
The syllables flowed as Roy’s heart was washed over by a cold stream of realization, finally followed by steely determination. He pressed the phone to his ear again with enough force to crush the delicate cartilage and leave an imprint on his cheek.
“...street, you are to deliver 100,000 cens in a suitcase, or you can say goodbye to your Alchemist.”
“Where?” Roy asked frantically.
He was answered by the dull tone of a disconnected call.
Roy sat in complete silence for a long second before he slammed the handset down on his desk with enough force to leave a dent. With the same intensity, he sprang to his feet and marched into the outer office.
“Edward has been kidnapped.”
It must be said that the team reacted appropriately. No panicking, but also no joking one might have expected: “this isn’t the first time,” “bet he’ll escape like last time,” or “third time’s the charm.”
“What are the orders, Sir?” Hawkeye asked matter-of-factly.
“Call the dorms and check if Alphonse is in the room. If not, call Mrs. Rockbell, ask if she knows where the boys might be. Though they’re probably in the city. Furey, get in touch with Hughes’ investigative unit. Havoc, report the situation to human resources. We need to start all formal procedures. And the budget department too. They’re asking for a ransom of a hundred thousand. Have them act as they do withdraw money it in case the kidnappers are overseeing.”
“If they have the means to oversee us withdrawing money, they’d also know that according to protocol we don’t pay ransoms,” Breda noted.
“Indeed. Nevertheless, we must secure all possibilities.”
“Sir? Where are we supposed to meet them?” Falman asked.
Something on Roy’s face must have slip away, because Hawkeye’s hand, already dialing the number, froze.
“Sir?” she asked, though it sounded like a reprimand. It was remarkable how this woman somehow already knew how to react to his answer.
“The call quality was poor. Unfortunately, I didn’t catch the place where we’re supposed to meet,” it wasn’t a lie. It was a diplomatic answer. Hawkeye seemed to see through it because her eyes narrowed in a promise that they would return to this topic later.
For the next hour, it was frantic. Fortunately, not tinged with panic like during Ed’s first kidnapping when they not only didn’t know what to expect, but the boy was only twelve years old. The second kidnapping, almost a year later, was reported by Edward himself, who came with the kidnapper tied up and carried by his brother, with only a rope burn on his wrist.
So currently, no one panicked, carefully concealing their worry. Nevertheless, it was frantic because through the rather small office passed probably a hundred people, half of whom were mere gawkers or mockers doing nothing but getting in the way.
After an hour, things quieted down a bit, and after another hour, only three people entered, whom Roy couldn’t even see through the large stack of paperwork, full of forms, reports, and files that had appeared, brought by people showing up over the past two hours.
The phone rang once more, probably again with some information about the procedure.
“Roy Mustang,” he introduced himself automatically.
“We didn’t get the money. Should I understand that you don’t want your Alchemist back?”
Roy’s heart stopped, and a huge lump rose in his throat. He glanced at the clock. It struck 4:00 PM.
In that moment of silence, through the poor call quality, he managed to hear Edward’s voice.
“I told you he wouldn’t pay! Knowing that bastard, he’d even demand money to take me back. I bet he’s furious because of all the paperwork.”
“Shut him up already!” the speaker shouted, the irritation in his voice revealing this wasn’t the first time he was giving this command.
“You heard him! Shut up, kid!”
- WHO ARE YOU CALLING A KID SO SMALL THAT HE CAN BE IMMOBILIZED BY TIYING HIM TO A GRAIN OF SAND, BECAUSE HE IS TOO TINY TO MOVE EVEN A SPARK OF DUST?
“For the love of God! Shut him up already!” This time, beyond the irritation in the voice of the man Roy decided to call “chieftain,” there was a note of desperation. Roy could really relate to him.
“So? Didn’t you gather the funds?” the chieftain apparently turned back to the handset.
“No…” Roy wanted to finish with: “No, we gathered the funds, but we don’t know where to deliver them,” but he didn’t manage to finish.
“In that case, I’ll be merciful and lower the ransom to 75,000, but if you value his life, you’d better bring the money by 6:00 PM this time!”
“Wait!”
But once again, Roy was answered by the dull tone of a disconnected call.
“Damn it!” he growled and slammed the handset on the desk again.
All they could do now was to keep searching and wait until 6:00 PM for them to call back.
Of course, they didn’t manage to locate the unknown kidnappers in an unknown area in just two hours. Damn, half an hour ago, Hughes barely managed to find Alphonse, who was non-kidnapped, two-meter-tall steel armor.
So, still desperately searching for any clues, the time finally passed. Now Roy, Riza, Hughes, Breda, and Al gathered around his desk, anxiously watching the clock’s hand move from X to XI, finally approaching XII. But before the hand reached the highest point, the phone rang again.
“Colonel Roy Mustang,” Roy said immediately after picking up the handset, then quickly added, “If this is about Ed, you need to repeat where we are supposed to go.”
For a moment, there was complete silence from the other side, interrupted only by the crackling of the poorly adjusted handset and a distant voice, which, if you strained your ears, could be identified as Ed’s voice.
“You know, these bonds are pointless.”
“Shut up, kid,” sighed another voice somewhere in the background. Deep and tired. Underling – or at least that’s what Roy decided to call him.
“No, seriously. You can easily get out of this.”
“What do you mean you don’t know where you’re supposed to go?” the chieftain’s voice almost startled the listeners as they focused on the sounds in the background.
“Look, I’ll show you.”
“Simply. I didn’t hear you give the address.”
“How are you planning to...”
“By the trash bin on the corner of Riddle Street and...”
“Hey, no! Don’t move! Rickie! He’s escaping.”
“What the hell is going on there?”
“Relax! I just want to show you how to tie knots better! You have to tie each leg separately!”
“Jack? What’s going on? Hey! Why isn’t he tied up?” a third voice appeared in the background. Roy was willing to bet it was “Rickie,” unless “Rickie” was the chieftain.
“Relax. You’ll tie me up in a moment,” Edward’s voice. Slightly amused, not terrified as a 14-year-old should be during a kidnapping.
“Hey! Don’t move! Where do you think you’re going?”
“Don’t interrupt me! I’m showing you how to properly tie someone up. Look. First, you circle one leg and tie a knot... Sir, could you stay still? Thank you. And now the other leg... and then you tighten it like this...”
“What the hell,” Chieftain whispered near the handset.
Roy also wanted to know “what the hell,” and judging by the faces around him, he wasn’t the only one.
“Jack! Don’t let him tie himself up!”
“Don’t interrupt me when I’m explaining something!” Edward’s voice sounded unexpectedly firmly for a fourteen-year-old.
“Jack!” Rickie’s voice called.
“There’s one more problem,” Roy suddenly said, surprising everyone gathered around his desk, and probably Chieftain himself.
“And what’s that?” the man growled, clearly unsettled by what was happening deeper in the room.
“75,000 is a lot. We can’t gather such a large amount immediately.”
“What the hell? You’re the military. You’ve got all our taxes.”
“The economy is struggling,” Roy said calmly. “Most taxes go to fortifying the borders for defense against neighboring countries. The rest go to maintaining infrastructure and communication networks.”
“What the hell?” Chieftain repeated, ever so eloquently. He fell silent for a moment, presumably trying to understand what Roy said, which allowed...
“Rickie!” Jack’s voice could be heard during the pause. “It’s incredible! He’s right! There’s no way to escape from this.”
“Alright. I’ll drop it to 60,000 cens. Hurry up. You have until 8:00 PM.”
And again, the phone went dead with the dial tone.
“Roy!” Maes was the first to speak, his voice full of reproach and his eyes blazing with anger.
“Colonel! How could you say something like that? What if the kidnappers do something to my brother?” Al’s voice genuinely stirred guilt within him. He didn’t let it take root in his chest, though.
“Don’t worry. You heard it yourself,” he nodded at the still lifeless and dull handset. “He was able to get out. Not only that. The fact he didn’t escape means he wasn’t in danger and had full control of the situation.”
There was a moment of bewildered silence as the others, more or less willingly, reached the same conclusions.
“But if that’s the case... why didn’t Ed come back?”
“I don’t know,” Roy admitted honestly, “But I know he had a reason.”
Even if that reason was to have fun. Of course, Roy couldn’t blame him. After all, he himself had just found the mild amusement in all this mess.
“Besides,” he added, “even if I wanted to, we couldn’t pay the ransom.”
“And why not?” Hughes frowned. Roy allowed himself a slight smile.
“Because Riddlie street is quite long. And he still didn’t finish giving the exact location.”
5:58 PM
“Roy Mustang here.”
“We still haven’t received your money,” Chieftain’s dissatisfied voice and crackles in the background.
Roy intentionally paused so he and the others listening could catch what was happening in the background.
“I know it’s a tough topic,” Ed’s voice said, “but we need to talk openly and honestly about our life choices.”
“We’re still gathering the funds,” Roy lied smoothly, making sure amusement didn’t creep into his voice. “The budget isn’t cooperating. We’re negotiating, but it looks like we might have to fundraise among the soldiers.”
“You need to ask yourselves what you want and how much you’re willing to sacrifice for it,” Ed’s distant voice continued.
“You’re screwing with me!” Chieftain exploded.
- "I wouldn't dare," Roy lied again. "You should read the military regulations. There's a regulation stating that regardless of rank, captured soldiers won't succumb to blackmail or ransom demands."
- "Committing evil will weigh on our conscience forever. You'll remember that your family's happiness was built on..."
- "In that case, I'll make it easier for you. 50,000. You have until 10:00 PM, same place."
- "What led you onto this path of crime?"
Jack's response was interrupted by a click and the sound of dialing again.
- "Did Edward just...?" Breda began, then shook his head in disbelief.
- "Did he give kidnappers the talk about 'life choices'?" Roy clarified, equally perplexed.
- "Brother's talks are terrifying," Al sighed.
For a moment, Roy wanted to comment, but just in time, he remembered that before meeting the boys, Edward was Alphonse's older brother, responsible for raising him. He briefly wondered how Ed's version of "the talk" went. His aunt had always delivered quick lessons, providing precise guidelines, underscoring implications, and then telling him to wait in his room to reflect.
Looking at the faces around him made him realize they, too, recalled their parents' versions of "the talk," and envisioned Edward in that role.
And though he wanted to pretend that was amusing, it was not a funny idea funny.
Especially when someone remember how did ten-year-old Ed looked like right after the human transmutation.
It was sad.
And, if he was honest, a bit scary.
- "Gentlemens and ladies, it's time to go home."
- "Sir?" Riza looked at him puzzled.
- "But, sir!" Al protested. "The kidnapper will call in two hours!"
- "Indeed," Roy nodded, suddenly feeling weary. "And when they won't be answered, they'll probably dial my home number. If not, they'll contact me first thing in the morning. Demised"
Reluctantly, they withdrew, everyone except Alphonse, who towered over the desk in his steel armor.
- "Sir... I..."
- "If you'd like, Alphonse, you can stay overnight at my place."
- I’d appresieate, Sir.
Roy was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner when the phone rang. He frowned and checked the time to be sure. It was 9:24 PM. Too early.
- "Yes?" he answered the handset, holding it to his ear, expecting it to be his aunt, probably asking to verify rumors already buzzing in her ears at headquarters.
- "Roy Mustang?" recognized Chieftain's voice.
- "Who's speaking?" – he tried to act.
- "Don't pretend you don't know!" It didn't work. "We've kidnapped your alchemist! We demand ransom!"
- "Oh really," Roy lazily shifted the handset between cheek and shoulder, returning to cleaning after his meal. He also nodded to Alphonse, who patiently sat in the room, directing his intangible gaze towards him.
He allowed a pause after his statement to listen to the background noises.
He could indeed hear Edward Elric's young voice, but the exact words were lost in the background hum and the clinking of steel as Alphonse approached him.
- "I just didn't expect the call to come half an hour early."
- "You were expecting a call?" Chieftain's tone rose. "Are you not planning to pay the ransom for your alchemist?"
Clearly, Chieftain wasn't as naive as Roy had thought, since he connected his seemingly casual response to possible implications.
- "I told you we're still raising funds. There's no way we can find 50,000 cenz in two hours."
- "Then why are you at home instead of looking for them?" Chieftain thundered, visibly angry.
Roy allowed himself a theatrical sigh.
- "Because it's nearly ten at night. There are no soldiers in headquarters except for the guards. How do you expect us to fundraise with empty chairs?"
There was a moment of silence, or at least what could be called silence in Chieftain's terms. The crackling and murmurs persisted, and in the background, Edward's voice, now unobscured by clinking armor, was perfectly hearable.
- "The energy needed to break interactions can be excessive, but rupturing atomic bonds requires precise energy measurement, or else the excess can excite electrons, altering their properties. That's why it's easier to shape materials than to change one into another..."
“that men indeed is a lazy bastrad” - Roy heard Chieftain muttering words that they probably weren't meant to hear. Roy could imagine who passed on this information – likely when they couldn't reach the office and had to look up his private number in the phone book.
(Alphonse emitted a sound combining irritation and embarrassment out of armor.)
Then Chieftain continued, this time much louder, probably addressing his words to the handset again.
- "So, should we extend the deadline for ransom payment until tomorrow morning?"
- "Nine am is best." Roy agreed, ignoring Alphonse's furious glare. If his brother could escape and hadn't done so yet, he might as well spend the night as a hostage. As recompensation to all stress paperwork he had caused so far.
- "Alright then, by nine. I'll lower the demand to 40,000. Just don't test my patience!"
- "Fine. Good night," sighed Roy, then hung up.
About forty minutes later, the phone rang again.
- "Yes?" Roy answered, picking up the handset.
There was a moment of static and muffled sounds. "Remember the half-life of unstable particles, which partially alters the flow of energy in reactions..."
- "How do we shut him up?" Chieftain's voice came through in desperation.
Roy couldn't help but smile.
- "Shut who up?"
- "Don't play dumb! Make him stop talking!" Irritation burst out, quickly giving way to silence.
Chieftain took a deep breath.
- "How do we silence him?"
- "Hmm..." Roy pondered, then, because Ed’s opinion over him was not exactly wrong, asked:
- "Has he told you yet about molecular geometry?"
- "About what?" Chieftain's voice rose an octave higher.
Roy couldn't suppress a smile.
- "Pentagonal bipyramidal, octahedral, trigonal planar?"
"No, he hasn't told us." The denial came immediately, and Roy wasn't sure if it was a response or a desperate denial of the perspectives that had just emerged before the man
"Hmm..." He theatrically pondered. "Perhaps there's a way."
"What?" Chieftain didn't even try to hide his desperation.
Roy just widened his smile.
"Lower the demand to 20,000 cenz."
"I can go down to 40,000."
"I'm afraid you offered that price during our previous conversation."
"Well, yes, but previously it was 50,000."
"Indeed," Roy agreed. "But now we're at 40,000, and bargaining involves lowering the price. To 20,000."
There was silence on the line for a moment.
"The bond strengths are also influenced by the angles between molecules. The most concentrated is the octahedral shape, where all angles are 90 degrees..."
"30,000?" His voice slightly faltered towards the end, and although Roy had no doubt that if he insisted, he could lower the price by another 10,000, he took pity on the man who had been stuck with Fullmetal for the entire day and likely the entire night.
"Deal"
"So then? what is this?" Chieftain hurried him.
"Give him something to eat," Roy said simply.
He didn't even receive a response. The static on the line intensified again, indicating that Chieftain's head had moved away from the handset, and in the background, a slightly less distinct voice could be heard shouting, "Hey! We've got some sandwiches! Bring them all!"
Then came the dialing tones.
Roy stared at the handset for a moment, shrugged, and put handset down.
An hour later, as Roy lay in his bed lazily flipping through the pages of a book, the phone rang. He glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, but the lifeless object, of course, didn't fall silent out of fear.
"Hello?" he answered.
In response, he heard static cracles and music. Though 'music' might be a generous term.
A campfire glows beneath the stars,
Whispering tales of lands afar.
Around it gather friends so dear,
Facing dark night with laugh not fear.
"20,000!" A sharp voice broke through the melody.
"I'm sorry?" Roy asked.
"20,000. The food stopped working."
If Roy thought he knew what a desperate person sounded like, now he just was proofed that he was wrong.
And perhaps that's why such great empathy blossomed in his chest that he couldn't bring himself to demand a lower price.
His resolve to help was also influenced by the fact that he now heard the wailing of not one but three voices.
"Don't pay him any attention ," he heard Alphonse's voice through the handset.
The boy must have heard the phone and picked up the handset to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Who are you?" Chieftain asked sharply.
"His brother," Al replied without hesitation.
"I don't know if that will work," Chieftain admitted. "My men are singing too."
"Then tell them to stop," Mustang advised.
"They won't listen as long as he's singing," and then quieter, as if not intended for their ears, he added, "They've become damn good friends."
"So tell Ed that if he doesn't go to sleep now, he'll not only be tired tomorrow but Winry will find out he does not pay attention on his health," Al threatened. "And that he overstressed his Automail when we were in Uwe. Ant that… that I will be disappointed"
"Thank you," Chieftain sighed. Uncertainly, but with such relief in his voice that Roy was sure he could be crying now. "Thank you."
The phone rang promptly at nine am.
"We haven't received the money," Chieftain quiet voice came out murmuring from the handset.
"I think there is something wrong with connection ," Roy muttered, hearing no voices besides the background static and Chieftain himself sounding unusually weak.
"No," his interlocutor denied. "It's just me whispering."
"Why?" Roy frowned.
The answer came after a moment.
"The kid is still asleep," Chieftain revealed at last, as cautiously as if speaking those words would bring them bad luck, or in this case, wake up a little devil.
Roy had to stifle his amused chuckle.
"Yes. Fullmetal usually sleeps until ten."
"Do you have the money?" Chieftain demanded.
"No. Not yet," Roy lied.
"Then let's do this," another pause and static. Roy could imagine the man nervously pacing to glance at the still sleeping boy. "If you manage to get to the designated place within an hour, you can deliver only 10,000. Deal?"
"We'll do everything we can," Roy promised, leaning back casually in his chair and lazily staring at the stack of documents on his desk.
In moments like these, he agreed with his friends. He was cut out to be a politician.
The phone rang again.
"As I can see, you still haven't raised enough money," Chieftain barked over the phone as soon as Roy picked up.
"No," the colonel smoothly lied.
"You have until noon. 10,000 cenz."
"10,000?" Roy repeated, slightly surprised. "You asked for 10,000 last time."
"Well yes. But costs have gone up."
"How exactly have costs gone up?" Roy lost all his lazy amusement, leaning forward over his desk, muscles tensed, ready to act.
What was said next completely bowled him over.
"We had to order takeout."
Roy managed to muffle the handset before bursting into laughter.
"Are you telling me the kid eate for 10,000?" he asked incredulously.
"Definitely over 10,000 grams. Do you know how much he eats? I swear, I couldn't believe it when he ordered a second round, but damn it, a third? We ate enough food for twelve people! And the worst part is, because of this kid, my men ate double too!"
"So the costs weren't just because of Fullmetal," Roy deduced, forcing himself to remain calm.
"If it weren't for him, this wouldn't have happened! He provoked them!" Chieftain snapped.
"Still, some of the money didn't end up in Edward's stomach."
"But it ended up in their stomachs because of him!"
"Nevertheless."
“Ah! Alright. 8,000 is my final offer."
"I'll see what I can do," Roy assured him.
Again, he lied.
"What about four thousand?" Chieftain sounded pleading. It was a strange role reversal, as the abducted side should be the one pleading.
"Hmm..." Roy pretended to contemplate, allowing himself to listen to the sounds coming from the background.
"Your brother sounds like an angel," Jack's deep voice said. "My daughter Margaret has trouble talking to strangers, but she gets attached very quickly. I'm sure she'd like you."
"But not more than me," Rickie added.
"We'll see," Edward laughed. "I have a tendency to break children's hearts with alchemy."
"That would be cheating."
"In love and war, all tricks are fair," Jack laughed.
"Please," Chieftain sighed. "4,000 is not an impossible amount. I'm sure you earn more yourselves."
"The military isn't as generous as you think," Roy lied, though he couldn't bring himself to be malicious.
He could no longer denay.
It was becoming increasingly clear.
He felt sorry for this man.
He knew exactly how Edward could get on someone's nerves.
And he also knew how perfectly he could foil even the best-laid plans, even if they seemed impossible to foil.
Take, for example, undergoing the Automail surgery and rehabilitation within a year, causing himself to be the sponsor of not a fifteen-year-old genius, but a controversial commander of twelve-year-old.
"I'll see what I can do," he sighed. "Give me two or three hours."
This game should end.
And if 2,000 disappear from Edward's account... well. Let's consider it payment for lodging, food, and round-the-clock child babysitting.
Not even half an hour passed.
"1,000 and come and take him now!"
And then clattering, banging, buzzing, and it became clear that the handset was dropped, and now new voices surrounded the phone.
"Hey, Bob?" Jack spoke.
So that was Chieftain's name. Roy thought it somehow didn't fit him.
"What's going on, Jack?" Even with the distorted sound, it was clear Chieft... Bob was on the defensive.
"Well... I was thinking... I don't want to be a criminal anymore, you know?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Well because... this whole idea, you know? With the kidnapping and ransom... I... I don't think it was a good idea."
"We've already talked about this! You don't have another option! You need that money!"
"Well, technically... but it doesn't look like we'll get them, does it?"
Eavesdropping on the poor sound quality was interrupted by Roy's door smiling against the wall
"We tracked them!" Hughes said with a glint in his eye.
"Who?" Roy asked, shocked. Hughes smiled.
"Ed's kidnappers. I checked all the restaurants in town, only one got such an early morning order as you mentioned. There are a few factories nearby, and only two have empty warehouse halls. One of them is near the old hospital, and no one goes near it."
"Great, Hughes. And now..." He gestured for his friend to sit before returning to eavesdrop on the conversation.
Just in time.
"Think about Margaret! She needs that money! She needs treatment! Who do you think we're doing this for?"
"Maybe I could hire myself ...."
- "You’re already working two jobs! Rickie and I are the same. We’re living like paupers, saving every penny, and we don’t even have half of it! After a year, we decided that the military ransom was our only chance!"
- "Well, yes, but Ed is only five years older than her. I don’t want to traumatize him…"
- "He’s a military dog, for fucks sake! Just like those who make us live like this. Get a grip!"
- "No, Bob. You’re the one who needs to get a grip. What we’re doing is wrong."
At that moment, something must have broken inside Bob, as the static on the line suddenly cleared, and Roy heard the voice much more clearly.
Almost too loudly.
- "Hey! Mustang! Are you still there?" Bob shouted into the handset.
- "I’m here," Roy confirmed calmly.
- "Then get your ass over here and get that brat out of here. You don’t have to pay anything!"
Meanwhile, in the background, Jack continued as if he wasn’t paying attention to the phone call, "And for everything we do, we must pay. That’s an equivalent exchange from which there’s no escaping."
- "Damn it! I’ll pay you! Just come get him! Now!!!!"
Then the handset slammed down, and Roy once again heard the dull sound of a disconnected call.
He looked at Hughes meaningfully.
- "Just in time. We’re going after our Alchemist."
Edward and the three men were found outside the warehouse Hughes had mentioned. Edward appeared relaxed, standing and chatting cheerfully with a well build man and a young, skinny fellow in his twenties. When their car pulled up nearby, Edward turned around and waved to them with an open smile before returning to the conversation.
- "Your brother was worried about you," Roy scolded him as he approached the group.
This brought a fleeting remorse to Edward’s face.
- "He knew I’d manage," Edward said. "He wasn’t worried. He knew I wasn’t in danger. If it had been otherwise, he would have rescued me," the boy smiled.
Roy didn’t know how to react to the realization of the trust placed in him. So instead of dwelling on it, he buried it deep in his mind and critically regarded the two remaining men.
- "You must be Jack," he addressed the tall, more muscular man, who, though not matching Major Armstrong in size, certainly could be considered a distant cousin.
- "And you must be Rickie," he said to the skinny man, who nodded. No one asked how he knew their names.
- "And you’re Colonel Mustang," Jack addressed him. "We’ve heard a lot about you."
- "I suppose those stories were adorned with many florid adjectives," Roy smiled politely.
- "I tell you, he even talks like a jerk,"
- "He talks like a politician," Jack responded calmly.
- "I already like him," Hughes confirmed at the same time Edward grimaced.
- "Look, jerk. You’ve already infected him with your jerkity."
- "Jerkiness," Roy corrected.
- "See?" the child exclaimed. Hughes laughed.
But they weren’t here for jokes.
- "Where’s Bob?" Roy asked.
Edward’s smile stiffened.
- "You know what, jerk? Kidnapping means holding someone against their will. Besides, I’m not tied up, and you don’t really have any proof that—"
- "Enough, Fullmetal," Roy cut him off with a hand gesture, trying not to be swayed by the familiar look from the boy. Instead, he stared into Jack’s eyes. "Where’s Bob?"
The man’s eyes flashed in a way that the previously warm gaze seemed as illusion. In that brief moment, Roy understood how this man could agree to kidnap a child. He really wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley at night. But then the flash disappeared, replaced only by resignation.
- "I’m sorry," he said simply. Then he nodded for them to follow him.
It turned out that Bob had been locked in a small building that had likely served as a guard booth or a tool shed. And although there was a window in the room that he could break to escape, the man simply sat against the wall. Though his face showed he would rather be anywhere but here and not dealing with the military, the sadness in his eyes revealed that despite his reluctance, he was ready to face the consequences for his actions.
- "Bob, as I understand?" Mustang asked, leaning against the doorframe. The man nodded glumly.
- "Mustang."
Neither of them said anything more, so a strange quiet settled between them.
Eventually, Bob broke the silence.
- "I didn’t give you the address." The implication of "you knew where to come" hung in the air.
- "I found out him less than an hour ago."
- "That doesn’t change the fact that you knew."
- "And you clearly knew that you didn’t need to give it."
- "Heh." Bob sounded resigned. "Looks like our roles have reversed. If they ever were like I have suspected."
- " They were. But I’m afraid the roles had already reversed around 40,000." This time, a flicker of amusement appeared in the dark eyes of the old, sun-damaged face.
- "I think even earlier. I was too blinded by the prospect of wealth to notice."
- "I had the impression it was more desperation."
- "Did they tell you?"
- "I heard snippets."
- "either way it doesn’t matter now, right?"
- "It depends on what you’ll say."
- "And what could I say?"
Roy pretended to ponder.
- "Perhaps tell me when exactly the roles really reversed?" he suddenly asked.
Bob lifted his head and stared intently at Roy. The Colonel faced him.
The man wasn’t as old as his weather-beaten face suggested—about forty, maybe closer to fifty. The wrinkles around his eyes formed gentle laughter lines but were much subtler than the deep furrows between his eyes from too many moments of frowning. Slightly hunched and slouching shoulders with stringy muscles completed the image of someone bearing just a bit too much.
- "The kid was right. You really are a jerk."
Roy allowed himself a sardonic smile.
- "I thought you weren’t listening to him."
- "I didn’t want to listen. But he’s hard to ignore him."
- "Tell me about it."
Bob laughed again.
- "The kid is a gem."
Then he fell silent again. Roy waited.
- "I think… it was when he had untied." Bob finally whispered, staring at the floor. A moment of silence “did I pass?” (*)
When Roy did not answer, he sighed
- "I deluded myself that it meant nothing since he only untied his legs, but…"
- "So… Bob." Roy furrowed his brow. "That name doesn’t suit you."
Bob snorted again.
- “many tells me that” They call me Linsfract or Cap."
- "Cap?"
- "Short for Captain." He laughed. "I guess I was… a foreman on a construction site."
- "So you have experience in management?"
- "In dealing with people. Or at least, that’s what I thought."
- "Fullmetal is one of a kind."
- "Indeed." Linsfract chuckled lightly.
Then, with a sigh, he stood up and walked toward Roy and the exit.
Soon, they joined the rest—Fullmetal, Hughes, Flaman, and also two other lower-ranked soldiers and a sergeant from the budget office.
Edward clearly still wanted to argue that he was there voluntarily and that nothing had happened to him, which Hughes, bless him, consistently shut down.
From a distance, he made eye contact with his friend and nodded.
He received a similar sign in return.
No words were needed.
He agreed.
Edward grimaced slightly seeing them approach. Roy could bet the boy didn’t like Bob Linsfract, which shouldn’t surprise him, given that he himself liked the man.
They joined the group and silence fell again.
- "Is… is there anyone who could take care of the sick child?" Jack asked, breaking the tense silence.
Roy took a deep breath.
- "The military hospital doesn’t accept family members of the staff, but I’m sure they can recommend something to you, Sergeant."
- "W-what?"
- "As compensation for the heroic act of releasing the state’s alchemist Fullmetal from captivity, you will be rewarded with a merit bonus, which will be added to your service salary. I hereby recommend you to the command of Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes, to whom you will report after completing the three-month probationary and training period. Congratulations. Bob Linsfract, Jack Chopat, and Rickie Cunifor." He extended a hand gloved in white toward them.
Bob was the first to shake off the shock. He took Roy’s hand and shook it.
- "Thank you," he simply said. His voice trembled slightly at the end.
Jack didn’t even hold back his emotion, flooding with tears and repeating "thank you" until it became just a long stream of not understandable words. (Roy could bet he had some Armstrong genes)
The three soldiers who also came, and whose names Edward didn’t know looked on, confused by the scene, but said nothing, whether in a gesture of approval or simply because they didn’t want to look foolish.
And when, five months later, when Maes Hughes frequently sent one of his subordinates to Roy Mustang with "photos of Elisia," no one commented, even when Roy closed himself in his office with older the man to "view the photos." No one commented either when, for the next three months, Edward, whenever he was in the city, visited the training grounds and used his authority as a major to introduce some modifications to the training.