"Lieutenant Hawkeye, speaking."

Silence.

"Who is this?"

Several moments passed by, and Riza came very close to simply returning the phone to its cradle on the desk. The sound of ragged breathing stopped her, however, and her brow furrowed ever so slightly as she waited for an answer.

"Colonel Mu—Mustang."

The whisper did not have enough volume for her to identify the voice, and in alarm she glanced at the open door to the Colonel's inner office. He remained at his desk, brooding over paperwork, occasionally moving his hand to give his signature, and his phone remained in its stand.

Thus assured that he had not managed to leave the building and get himself all but killed without her notice and permission, she returned her attention to the telephone, repeating her words sternly, with a note of warning in her voice. "Who is this?"

"I—I need to … to speak with … Colonel Mustang."

The slightly longer, broken sentence gave her an idea of the caller—if not the identity, then the condition. The gaps between words had been to allow for desperate-sounding breaths of air, and the words themselves barely coherent. She had become fairly familiar with the sound of the wounded, and in this line of work, their determination to deliver a message even with their last breaths—familiar enough to realize the urgency of this call.

"P—please, I … I need to speak … with Co—Colonel Mustang."

The voice had gained some volume in desperation, breaking over a few of the syllables, and Riza's hand curled tightly around the telephone. "Of course. One moment, please." Her other hand shot to the phone's base with the speed she usually reserved for whipping out her gun, and transferred the call to her superior.

She heard the Colonel's phone ring within his office, and the habitual glance in that direction let her know that he had jerked to attention to pick it up before it could ring a second time. She forced herself to set her own down before he responded with a terse Hello.

One of the others in the outer office—Sergeant Fuery—inquired as to who had called. It had only been a few moments since the call came in; he could wait a few more until his answer came with the impending chaos.

Her eyes remained on the Colonel. The frown on his face had become even deeper, the furrows in his brow more pronounced, until he stiffened and looked in her direction, meeting her eyes. She tightened her fist resting on the desk, otherwise maintaining her calm.

He did not look away from her when he spoke again into the phone. "Fullmetal?"

An unnatural silence descended upon the room, until a chair scraped against the floor, ending the moment, and the four men in the outer office scrambled out of their seats to try to listen in on the call.

Riza did not join them, staying where she stood by the desk, eyes fixed on the Colonel's face. He had looked away, first to his men and then to nothingness, speaking again and focusing on the conversation. His careful mask over his emotions had shattered, if only for a second, and she knew what would be going through his mind.

If Hughes had been able to deliver his message, it would have sounded a lot like this call.