SeekerAstria - Thank you so much for sticking around. I think my transitions are rough is because each section was posted individually but I'm putting a couple together here so I don't continue to draw this story out any longer than need be. jenelric - Thanks! Krows Scared - Hope this is soon enough. starshine - Thanks! Kyorma - Sorry about the sleep loss, hope it lives up to expectations.

Thanks everyone for the kind replies.

The Present

The door to Mustang's office flew open and Hughes burst in. Crinkling in a tight grip, he held a map he had picked up on the way back from the train station. It took him a moment to realize the room was empty. Not good, he thought as he stalked to the staffroom door and pulled it open.

Still no Roy, but he found Falman, Hawkeye and Breda all standing around one of the desks.

"Where's Roy?" he quickly asked as he shut the door behind him.

"Havoc took him home," Falman said. "He was looking quite unwell, sir."

"Well, that's good." Hughes rubbed his forehead lightly. At least he would not have to worry about Roy being in the middle of it all.

"But we also have a problem," Hawkeye said evenly. "MSG Fury is missing."

Before he could question further, he saw what the three had been looking at, a smashed pair of black framed glasses.

Breda picked them up. "After I couldn't find him at the hospital, I headed over to the dorms hoping he had just overslept. I found these on the sidewalk."

Slowly pulling a chair from a desk, Hughes heavily sank to the wooden seat. The crumpled paper coming to rest on the desk in front of him.

"Do you think she's taken Fury?" Roy would be pissed but—

"Sir?" Hawkeye asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised, sir," Breda said. He scrutinized Hughes for a moment. "You know where she's hiding."

Three sets of eyes settled on the Lt. Colonel. He sighed. "I'm not positive, but I have an idea."

"Let's take her down," Breda said firmly.

Hawkeye shook her head. "It could be a trap." She frowned. "Still."

"Then we be careful," Falman interjected. "Where is she?"

"The Temple of the Sun God in the Remnant."

The rich amber depth of Hawkeye's eyes shimmered with an old fear as she stared off across the room. "It's like Medes all over," she whispered.

Shaking his head, Breda said, "She doesn't have the people at her disposal like last time. The Hareti, for the most part are gone. You and the Colonel took out half of the ones that are known to be with her."

Reaching across the desk to where Hughes sat, Hawkeye grabbed the piece of paper he had carried in. Smoothing it out, she laid it so all could clearly see it. "This is an old map."

"They didn't have anything of the construction area and I didn't have time to hunt something up," Hughes responded.

A blue pencil was pulled from a holder and Breda traced a large circle around a group of structures. "All of this is cordoned off and abandoned."

"They are going to expand south," Hawkeye said, "and add some more housing, demolish this run down area. The city planners want to rival Central."

"Not too many people hanging around either," Breda noted as he stroked his bearded chin, his mind already plotting a game plan. He looked to Hughes and asked, "Are we keeping the Colonel out of the loop?"

Hughes straightened. "If possible."

Studying the map again, the 2nd Lieutenant pressed his finger to an intersection near where some construction was currently going on. "We'll need back up but we want to keep a low profile and at a distance. We can't afford to spook Rhodes and the Hareti now. They're so few in number they could slip away without being noticed."

"Like how they got here," Falman noted.

"Yeah." The red haired man then looked back at Hughes and Falman who looked on curiously. "Guns," he said looking at Falman. "We need to be ready for anything."

"Yes, sir!"

He then glanced at Hughes. "Sir, we need men."

Hughes smirked. "I think I can handle that."

When it was only Breda and Hawkeye left, he met her eye. "If this was Medes, where would the attack come from?"

There was, even so many years later, a place in Jean Havoc's mind that still heard the clicks of an empty gun chamber. He did not see the woman holding the gun, nor the man she was attempting to fire on, all that he possessed was a sound over the crackling din of a burning city.

He could still see Hawkeye vanishing into the thick cloud of dust and smoke that surrounded him and the expectation that he would never see her again. Funny thing about that memory, he had calmly accepted that he was dead; it was only a matter of time before the dark cloud closed in on him and took the light away.

Years later, he could hardly accept that it had been so easy and thought he would not face his demise with such grace when the time came upon him again. Though if he were lucky, an unexpected bullet to the head would make the passage easier.

In that place, where the memory resided, he knew death did not come. Instead of lying there, waiting for the cloud to choke the life out of him, he saw figures moving about.

Shadows taking on human form.

He remembered the Colonel, then a Major, stepping from the haze and pulling him to his feet. It was an unnecessary cruelty he thought at the time, so much pain, but urged on, he managed to walk with a great deal of support. The other men seemed to fall into place behind he and officer he leaned against as they walked over the debris covered road toward light and fresh air and a working vehicle.

He glanced back into the rearview mirror as he cut the engine of the car. The Colonel sat forward with his head tilted downward. He did not look so good and Havoc doubted he should leave the man alone.

Jumping out of the car, he pulled open the back door and waited as the Colonel took his time getting out. A gloved hand pressed to the doorframe as he steadied himself.

"I can always whip back around to the hospital—"

"I'm fine," Mustang growled but it did not possess his usual fierceness.

"If you say so, Chief," he said, tipping the cigarette up and down as he closed the door and walked a few steps ahead of Mustang to open the wooden gate but paused and looked at the dark clouds rolling overhead. In the distance, he could see the deep blue of approaching rainfall.

After what seemed forever, Mustang made it up the few steps to the door of the base house he called home. He fumbled with the keys, trying to shift them around in his good hand, but he could not easily separate out the right key to the door.

"I could help," Havoc said.

"No," came a stern but frustrated reply.

Havoc nodded with his usual understanding and switched his cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other while he searched his pockets for his lighter.

The keys slipped from Mustang's gloved hand clattering to the floor. Havoc was quick to kneel down to pick them up. He knew almost immediately his mistake.

The Colonel struck him across the back of the head sending him falling to the landing like a bag of sand. "Damn," Havoc muttered as consciousness faded.

"Sorry about that," Mustang said as he pulled the black sling off. Carefully—painfully—he straightened his injured arm and then knelt before the unconscious Havoc and picked up not only his keys, but also the car keys still in Havoc's grip.