The Water Alchemist

Unraveled

Welcome back to The Water Alchemist. I don't own any of the intellectual property of Fullmetal Alchemist.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Unraveled

*** 

"Colonel," Lieutenant Hawkeye called from the door as she barged into the office unexpectedly.

Mustang looked to her over the top of the journal and rose a brow as she shut the door behind her. Most of his subordinates were sent out of the office on various tasks, one of them being Hawkeye, and he was expecting not to be disturbed as he studied the contents of the journal. He had stumbled across something quite useful when Hawkeye had interrupted. He book-marked the page as she laid down a set of papers in front of him, and he set the journal aside.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" he asked, taking up the papers, tapping them together on the desk.

He skimmed over them, flipping through to see what the urgency in her step was about, and his eyes narrowed before widening with surprise when he found it. He quickly shuffled the papers into his desk, along with the journal for safekeeping.

"A car is already waiting, sir," she said as he stood, sending his desk chair into a spiral behind him.

He snatched his coat from the rack at the door and shrugged it on as he nodded to Hawkeye. He left the chair spinning as they exited his office. They arrived fairly quickly at the scene, having ordered the driver to make haste, and on the surface, MPs were everywhere. They lined the streets, blocking off the intersection, stopping the flow of the bustling city around them. A crowd had gathered, and the MPs were doing their part to keep a perimeter, which Mustang and Hawkeye crossed with ease. It was broad daylight after all, and they had stumbled upon something unsuitable to the public eye. Mustang looked around as soldiers saluted him until his eyes found the man in charge of the investigation. He looked stoic as he spoke with an officer, not yet noticing Mustangs' approach. When he did, he turned to look at Mustang through glasses that hid narrow brown eyes and sat on his square nose with a grimace.

"Colonel Mustang, how did I know you'd show your face around here," he said, his tone both annoyed and indifferent, a perfect balancing act of duty and rivalry, his hands clasped behind his back.

His face was as apathetic as a gargoyle, set to watch steadfastly over its charge with a certain disinterest. Maybe that's what made him the perfect officer to conduct this investigation, his complete loyalty to his service and complete disregard in the realm of emotions. Mustang eyed the overturned man-hole cover at the man's heels.

"Let me see the body," Mustang said curtly, skipping the pleasantries.

Usually, he did well to mask his true feelings, especially when it came to work, but this was not something he felt was work-related. His status just happened to let him pass the threshold.

"I'm afraid I can't let you further than this. Authorized personnel only," the man said, frankly.

Mustang scowled. Colonel Henry Douglas was an officer of equal rank to himself and someone he particularly looked forward to ordering around once he became Fuhrer.

"I said, let me through, Douglas," Mustang said, his jaw clenched. He had to see it for himself. He had to be sure before he could move forward.

"I'm afraid you don't have any jurisdiction here, Colonel. This is my operation. I think it'd be best if you left," Douglass said with a scowl, crossing his arms.