Best Kept Secret

Author: MoonStarDutchess

Chapter 150: Braided Info

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist and gain no profit from this fanfiction other than writing practice. I do own any OC's that make an appearance.

Roy loosened his grasp on the paper in his hand. The tight grip had become habit when Riza was reassigned. Not only papers but also several pencils had suffered under this vice-like hold. He read over the first line again, but then stopped, having already committed the contents to memory. He hadn't been surprised when Major Armstrong had given him the documents, ones of which he'd already burned, but he hadn't expected these from the other Armstrong. He dodged it when Olivier Armstrong hurled it at his head; he wouldn't put it past her to put a few flat rocks within the manila envelope's confines.

Her information was concerning different matters than that of Major Armstrong's, but it tied together more than he wished to admit. The major's info concerned the location of the real prince and the terrorists with him, so he was able to have a few allies here, and from the East, to handle surveillance on the place until it was time to strike.

He wadded up the papers, tossed them in the shallow metal bowl he kept on his desk, and snapped. They turned to ash in seconds.

Olivier's information was more regarding Edward's whereabouts, and the happenings outside of Central and at Briggs. Edward's movements were tracked rather well considering the events surrounding Claudio. Olivier was passing the info to him on a regular basis using different, potentially violent or uncomfortable, means.

He knew her overt hostility towards him wasn't entirely genuine. Though they nettled each other a lot and their relationship wasn't the most civil in the world, there was a mutual respect underlying it all. He knew some of that respect was due to Riza. He was aware that the General offered Hawkeye a position at Briggs every year. The woman had good taste in officers.

Anyone that had faith in Riza was worth allying with. There were other reasons to be "friendly" with her, but that was the biggest in his opinion.

Breda had told him that the war in Pendleton was increasing in brutality the longer it went on. It was fortunate that they kept the man mainly behind a desk.

Fuery had been dealt the worst in regards to location. He'd been laying communication lines in the south. He'd long hoped he'd never have to see the horrors of battle within the young sergeant's eyes, but that hope was destroyed when he returned.

Falman was sending info from up north before Olivier became so forthcoming. Her information expanded on what Falman said, and confirmed that all of this with Claudio and the treaty was indeed being done to cause many deaths, if not all out war. Amestris was fighting with, or had volatile relationships with all the countries around them save Xing, and that was only because a large desert separated the two countries. He expected something big to happen with Drachma soon with Olivier not being there anymore. There was a transmutation circle being dug under Briggs; he reasoned no war would happen there until it was done. The problem was that they didn't know how close it was to being finished.

Breda left his post without hesitation when called to help. That had been a few months ago. He'd been wandering around Central since then. He wore a disguise, blending in well with the crowd-packed streets and, as usual, had been instrumental in gathering information.

He'd not heard any outrage about Breda going MIA, but that didn't surprise him. Western Command was so inept, the structure so convoluted, that if the soldiers and lower officers weren't so dependable and good at what they did, they would've already been overrun. They were lucky Creta had little ambition concerning invasion. Despite that, he still kept an ear out for comments and a watchful eye on any paperwork that might bear his name.

Fuery had been brilliant in his desertion. He'd destroyed his helmet, the radio he had (not before screaming into it), and threw them into the battle areas. He'd hidden his tracks and left through a long pathway he'd previously scouted to avoid any area where troops congregated. If patrols passed by, he'd hide. Roy'd asked how he hid on a wide battlefield, but the young man's eyes darkened and Roy changed the subject.

The official paperwork had come across his desk even though it shouldn't have. He knew it was to mock him. To show a "one down, the rest to go" intention. He'd played the angry officer, but the real hurt occurred when he saw the young man's parents grieving him. The fact there was no body in the casket as they lowered it in the ground was another blow against closure for the two.

If Fuery survived the final battle in all of this, they'd get the best surprise of their lives when the dust settled. For now, Fuery was staying behind the scenes, making sure the majority of their communications were secure and in optimum condition for The Promised Day.

The men he had spying in Liore were relaying information to him as well. There were reports of a man talented with alchemy helping the people there. Long blond hair, glasses, tall. A vague description despite him being amongst people with dark hair and brown skin. Then, he found out the man's name. Hohenheim. At that moment, he knew things would be escalating quicker than he presumed.

Edward was also heading towards Central, but had no idea when he would arrive.

Scieszka had been keeping a look and ear out for new information. She was good at more than memorizing things. The bookworm had been invaluable to his spying network, no one expecting the timid woman as being a communication threat and tended to speak freely around her. If they even noticed she was there. According to her, no one had said anything regarding the men of his former team.

The men.

Riza's name had been flying through every section of headquarters. Both aloud and in whispers. At first, she'd thought nothing of it since she knew of the plan for it to appear as if the secretaries and other female officers were jealous of her. The words said about her sleeping her way to the top. Their allies were running a "professional dislike" campaign and it was so effective that some of the generals and colonels familiar with Hawkeye had reprimanded the people who spoke ill of her. He made sure to note who they were as potential allies in the future.

He'd expected to hear all of that, but then she gave info that sunk into his stomach like a baseball-sized piece of lead. The information came from eavesdropping on two officers in the records room. It was about getting a gun for Riza. She had plenty of guns, so he wasn't sure what that meant. He was confident that it wasn't' going to be used on her, since she was being kept alive to keep him in line. It was more likely she would be the one using. But all he had was the assumption.

It could've been something as simple as her service firearm messing up, though it was unlikely considering the immaculate condition Riza kept her guns. And she would've mentioned it to him if it had. On more than one occasion, she complained about the changes in firearms the military was making. It was likely something more nefarious, but until he got more information, he couldn't make a judgment on what to do.

And he despised that.

He had to figure out how to get her out of her situation so she could fight. There were so many variables involved and he was clueless how to get them in check.

The homunculi were oddly at ease with everything going on. Bradley had been lenient where their personal lives were concerned. She said she occasionally got prickles of the homunculi here or there, but they weren't paying attention to her the way one would think they would. Of course, they could be watching him when he's alone, but he had no way of detecting that.

Riza had mentioned Bradley acting different during work. He was observant, but he didn't have the eyes Hawkeye did, nor was he around Bradley enough to be able to ascertain any changes.

He was about to pick up his coat from his chair so he could go home when someone knocked at his door. After giving permission to enter, Storch came in. His face rarely showed a smile, but there was usually some sort of tell that a sense of humor or civility lurked under there, but now his expression seemed even dourer. He had a large box of pens in his hand and clipboard under one arm.

"Colonel Mustang, I'm here to notify you of the coming events and remembered you wanted some ink pens, so I brought some."

Roy looked to the cup on his desk, filled with pens, then back at him. He kept his face expressionless, having said nothing to the man about needing pens. Storch approached and set the box on his desk. He slid them over to rest in front of him. Roy felt his muscles tighten as he recognized the significance of the pens. They weren't the typical ones like in supply closets around Central HQ or in his cup.

Storch had been with Riza.

"Thank you," Roy said. "And how are events coming? I have little to do with them. I have to work headquarters that day instead of going to the festivities."

Storch met his gaze. "There are many people who envy you. Some of us would rather be in headquarters alone, and the rest of us have to be as solitary and as focused as a sniper during the event. It's getting burdensome."

"I imagine so," Roy said. Shit.

"I'm sure no one would fault you if you showed up for the signing at least. Keep headquarters and the prince in your sights."

Storch took a few steps backwards. "I just finished talking with Lieutenant Orwell. He has Bradley's schedule arranged well enough that things should go smoothly even with the lack of staff at his side."

Roy stiffened. Riza was supposed to be taking care of that. And lack of staff? Riza was supposed to be there with Bradley too. "Lieutenant Orwell is a very capable officer. I have little doubt things will go smoothly with him in charge." He had no clue who the fuck Orwell was.

"Yes, the events remain on schedule, though some of us have to be there earlier than others."

"Isn't that usually the case?" Roy replied.

"Not for commissioned officers," Storch said. Roy stared at him and gave a firm nod. Storch walked over to the door. "I must be going, sir. Hope the pens are to your satisfaction. You should test them all out to make sure."

"I'll do that," Roy said. "Thank you for going out of your way to get them. I know it was probably inconvenient to do."

"Yes, sir," he said and left the office.

Mustang pulled out his chair and took a seat before opening the box of pens. He examined the lid and removed the pens to look around the box. He noticed the box said ten were in it, but there were only six.

His brows furrowed as he began unscrewing each pen to look inside. In his first pen, he found a small piece of paper curled inside. He removed it and proceeded to do the same to the other pens.

GnatsuM deliamkcaLb YelDarb yllaciSyhp dekcaTta demRahNu

It was such a rudimentary way of sending a message. Nowhere near on the level of what Riza would've come up with, but effective. It helped that Storch was good at speaking of one thing but meaning something else.

He got a sheet of paper and began unscrambling each word.

He made out his last name from GnatsuM, which mean Storch was likely referring to Riza. It was weird hearing her called Lieutenant Mustang now. Riza had no qualms about taking his last name, once saying she couldn't choose her despicable father's name, but she could choose his. She hadn't intended to do it yet for obvious reasons.

He set about going through the other words.

DeliamkcaLb. Blackmailed

YelDarb. That would be Bradley. Whatever it was Storch wanted to say would be about him as well. Not that he hadn't expected it.

YllaciSyhp. Physically.

DekcaTta. The grip on his pen tightened and he forced himself to remain seated instead of rushing out of the office and up to Bradley's.

DemRahNU. Unharmed. That word did little to alleviate his anxiety. His body tensed even more than it already had, and no matter what he did, he couldn't force himself to relax. He hadn't been able to relax at work ever since she was stationed under that monster. For the times at home, he'd been able to hold her, sometimes forget the world as he made love to her, but the morning would come and with it bring the burden of her danger back onto his shoulders and fear into his heart.

He threw the pen across the room as hard as he could. It clanged against a filing cabinet, the reverberations seeming to last a full minute rather than the few seconds in reality. "Damn it!" What kind of husband was he that he couldn't protect his wife? He had every confidence that she could take care of herself but… He cut his thoughts off there before he drifted into what ifs. Condemning himself and thinking about the past wouldn't help Riza.

Mustang. Blackmailed. Bradley. Physically. Attacked. Unharmed. He wasn't sure what order they were supposed to be in, but he couldn't bring himself to care when the meaning was so clear. The message combined with the rest of the info he had.

He thought about the things Storch said. Where he got the pens, he must have been there when this happened. Then there was the stuff about snipers, Lieutenant Orwell taking over her position. Watching from a distance.

Then there was what Scieszka said. About a gun for Riza.

He gripped the arms of his chair and cursed a string of expletives that would make even the hardest soldier crumble beneath their emotional weight.

AN: In the manga, Storch is loyal to Bradley, he's even seen fighting on behalf of the military during the Promised Day in the manga (and I think an anime clip but not sure). I really wanted to use existing characters and twist them for this fic, but not major ones, hence Storch. I just thought I'd clarify that since I haven't before to my knowledge.

Hello! I hope you are all doing well. It's been a while. It was really difficult for me to summon up the courage to post a new chapter. I have a lot of stuff written, but nowadays it's hard for me to summon up the courage to post. I want to say thank you to everyone who left reviews and/or favored, and put this fic on alerts in my absence. I had to deal with a lot of emotion stuff due to both my lack of confidence in my writing, anxiety both due to writing and real life issues, and a lot of family hospitalizations. Thank you for sticking with me and encouraging me while I was gone. Luv you lots.