The Heist

AN: Happy New Year, guys! I am off from work within the next week, and enjoying my free time immensely. I hope your new year started off on a great note!

Lan Fan watched the campus speed by as the car drove away from the Great Hall. The crowd surrounding the hotdog vendor and the bicyclist began to disperse. She looked at the driver in front of her, noting the cigarette trapped between his lips. He wasn't old; early thirties maybe. Beside her, Ling slouched in his seat, the ever-present smile still plastered on his face.

"When is your next class?" she asked.

"I have one now, actually," he answered. "But it's not too problematic. The syllabus we received at the beginning of the course outlined the topics that would be covered. I can always catch up."

She frowned. People like him paid so much to be able to register at a school, and yet they didn't take it seriously. She knew that Operation Greed was a much bigger, more urgent priority for Ling than studying was, but why pay for education when he wasn't going to reap all the benefits? Bah, people with money.

The crowd of students thinned as they wound their way past the narrow streets of the campus. The man – Havoc, she thought Ling called him – drove them about fifteen minutes outside of the school territory, and stopped in front of a small, old building, not worn-down and shabby, but boring and functional. He then led them to a room on the lower floor, a wide expanse of space bordered by simple white walls. It housed tables with computers and laptops, a large metal cabinet, a low wooden desk, and several couches.

"Hideout?" she asked, and Ling grinned in agreement. "It's kind of conspicuous don't you think?"

Havoc snickered. "The computers are loaded with games and pictures of cats. It takes a specific password to boot it up to the right hard drive partition with the information we need. If anyone comes in here, they're most likely going to think these are owned by a bunch of lonely gamers." He cleared a space on the low table, and motioned for them to sit down. Grabbing one of the tablets, he drew up a document, and presented it to them.

"Here's the result of our meeting with Henry Chu."

Lan Fan perked up. They had already met with Chu? This was moving a lot faster than she thought.

"This is a copy of the actual contract Grumman signed just this morning," Havoc continued. "Mustang had Falman draw the provisional deal yesterday, but it was only approved earlier today."

Ling took the tablet in his hands, scrolling through it faster than Lan Fan could read. She heard Edward's protests against him too, but he didn't stop.

"I don't understand," Ling said. "That's a strange thing to ask for – a piece of washed up land beside the mines."

"Yeah, we had some trouble understanding it too," Havoc admitted. "Though it is a little naïve to assume we'd always know your father's motivations."

"Good point," Ling offered the tablet to Ed, who began his own series of scroll-throughs. From his bag, Ling took out his own laptop and began typing some notes.

"I guess this is as good a time as any to discuss the next steps of the plan," he said. "You guys have already taken your first steps. It's Auto-Mail's turn." He turned to Edward. "This next part is crucial. As my mother would dramatically say, it is 'the point of no return.' Well, almost. We can still retract the operation after Aut-Mail has sealed a deal with 7-11, but it would rouse my father's suspicion a lot. Whatever we do, we do not want to arouse that man's suspicion. So... are you sure about this?"

Ed returned the tablet to Havoc. "Winry said she was sure about it. And to be honest, I think... I think Auto-Mail is faring a lot worse than we want to admit. Chu has been attacking our main sponsors. He already 'bought' Resit Cavern and Weom and co. Either we take Chu out and Auto-Mail can breathe a little easier for the next few years, or we fall apart now. But how about you?" He turned to Havoc. "Are you sure you want to risk your positions in the government conspiring with the black markets?"

Lan Fan actually wondered the same thing.

"It's a little embarrassing," Havoc said, rubbing the back of his neck. He took one last draft from his cigarette and put it aside in a tray. "You kids might be too young to remember, but the revolution years ago–"

"I remember," Lan Fan interjected. "The Sanitary Movement. Yeah, I remember it well..." she trailed off when the three gave her interested stares. She shifted uncomfortably, pushing the memories of sudden eviction and scrambling for fake papers out of her mind to focus on their discussion on hand.

Ling nodded, almost as if agreeing with her, but there was something in his eyes – the same one she'd seen when he didn't get quite what he wanted, but resolved to follow it up later.

"The usurpers made a deal with Chu back then," Havoc continued. "Millions of sens for the revolt against Bradley, in exchange of something we thought was a fair trade... until now. We still haven't been able to pay back the loan, and now we're needing the collateral."

"What is it?" Lan Fan asked.

Havoc cringed. "Not sure I'm supposed to say. This would be a topic to bring up next time you see the colonel himself. But let's just say that it is in Amestris' best interests to have it back as soon as possible."

"So you're going to use the operation to get around your contract? Steal back the collateral without paying off your debt?" Ed snickered. "I'm starting to question just how much trust I put in you."

"It's a little too late for that kind of questioning," Havoc replied. "It's your turn to have tea with Cthulhu."

"Alright," Ed sighed, slinging his arm over the back of his chair. "When do you think would be the best time to do it?"

"It would be best if you do it before Mustang's team is ordered to start the investigation," Ling suggested. "That way, you already have the contract, and we can coordinate our moves around what we already know."

"The investigation starts by the end of the month," Havoc said.

"And how much more do we need to plan?" Ed asked.

"Quite a bit more, actually," Ling said, opening up a document on his computer. He didn't bother hiding it from Lan Fan, which made her feel relieved. "We'd want the whole act to be as convincing as possible. Which means that we have to show signs that Mustang's team actually tried their very best to infiltrate the black markets for information. And Auto-Mail needs to show that they were well prepared for their advances and were able to deflect them thanks to Chu's funds. All of this needs to be coordinated."

Havoc whistled. Lan Fan nodded in assent. It seemed like a huge amount of work before the end of the month arrived, only two weeks away. And she still wasn't quite sure what her part would be in all this.

"And I was hoping the frame-up would involve your team actually finding the stash of money Auto-Mail borrowed from 7-11, as well as the actual contract."

"That might come across as spectacular luck on our part or some real carelessness on Auto-Mail's. If we aren't synchronized perfectly, we might as well wave a banner saying 'Something fishy going on here'," Havoc said. "I'll pass it on to Mustang. He likes ruminating on things like that." Lan Fan heard Edward snort.

They packed up after that, setting up a date for regrouping after eight days. Havoc reminded them that should they want to contact Mustang, they'd need to go through the encrypted lines. He dropped them off near the campus, and Lan Fan wondered if anyone from the fiasco earlier would notice them and wonder why they hadn't been detained.

-o-

On the night Winry and Ed set out to meet with Henry Chu, Ling packed Lan Fan in a rented car and drove her to Tobha. It was a little more than an hour's ride from Dublith, and they started their journey just after dinner. On her lap was Ling's backpack, filled with some of the papers that had taken up permanent residence on his desk in the secret room, as well as his laptop.

She had taken out the blueprints of Chu's office in Tobha, the newest one he had built in South Area. Apparently the man was always on the lookout to build newer sites; it helped him access more people if he stooped about like a vulture, or so she heard.

But Edward and Winry made the appointment with Henry Chu in Rush Valley. He would not be anywhere near Tobha. And if their sources were correct, he'd make his way to the financial district of Central by catching the midnight train.

"What kind of security do we have to worry about?" she asked Ling, squinting at the blueprints against the yellow light of the passing lampposts. It would terrible if she failed in her duty of guarding her client the first time that they actually went on an official job-related mission.

She tried to quell her thumping heart. It would be even worse for her if she got caught.

"Security guards, cameras and alarms at the very least," Ling answered her.

"Are we going undercover?"

He grinned, "Would you like it if we did?"

Lan Fan shook her head, fighting the infectious effect of his smile. "I'm not sure what good that would do for me," she glanced at her left side. There weren't many people she knew who practiced martial arts and who only had one arm. She would be pinpointed much too quickly either way, unless part of her cover would be to attach a fake one. She didn't like the idea of that. Much too unwieldy; perhaps if she had at least a few days to practice moving around with it.

"Well, we're not going to," he said, passing her a chocolate bar. "Even though XYZ Ltd. is a large company, the employees working together are trained vigorously. They would recognize anyone who isn't among them anyway. The best way to go about this would be to avoid detection at all costs."

She liked that idea.

"So we sneak," she stated. The bodyguarding work she had done in the past was quite different from sneaking. A whole lot different.

"Don't worry too much," Ling said. "I've been in the Tobha site before. I know a little bit about how to infiltrate it. I will show you once we get off the highway."

"You've been there before?"

"Yes! That's how I got a copy of the blueprint after all."

"So what are we going to do back there?"

"Just something I call general snoop-work. I try to find whatever I can about my father's current business deals, or even something in his personal life, that can help me. Also, as a member of Auto-Mail, one of the things I can provide to other clients is information about the general state of affairs among common financers."

"Did you know about Auto-Mail's money problem?" Lan Fan asked.

Ling's face darkened with concern. "I did. We managed to bribe Resit Cavern to hold out a bit before succumbing to XYZ, but Father threatened the co-owner, and that was that."

Lan Fan stayed quiet for the rest of the way, focusing instead on the floor plan of the small building. There were only two floors and a basement. Ling had joked that the basement was reserved for "persuasion," but she didn't find that a joking matter in the least.

Ling parked the car in front of a bus station. "This is the outermost station in Tobha. It wouldn't be a good idea to park anywhere near 7-11 even in a rented car. We'll take the bus the rest of the way, and back when we return."

"What if we need to make a quick getaway?" Lan Fan asked.

"Run fast." From one of the compartments he pulled out a small waist bag, and opened it for her to see. There was a credit card, a wad of cash, a bus pass, and a cellphone inside, as well as some gears and a few electronic gadgets. "This is for you."

Ling then pulled the blueprint from her, switched on the car light, and took out a pen.

"We make our entrance here," he told her, circling a door at the western side of the building. "It leads into a storage room, and just outside of it is a small staircase to the upper floor. This," he boxed a room on the second level near the back. "Is my father's study. This is where we want to go."

"Why can't we go through the window?" Lan Fan asked.

"The windows have alarms. Anything that can be used as an entrance does, even the air vents. We're going through the storage room, because that's the route to the study that I'm most familiar with. And also, because of the cameras," Ling took out a stapled bunch of papers from his bag. They contained pictures of a camera model, and small notes on the side.

"My father uses wireless IP cameras for surveillance. There is one installed in the storage room itself," Ling explained. "Lucky for us, because we can use this." He held up a short memory stick. "It has a virus. We can transmit it to the monitors and central storage, which would corrupt the system. That way, we wouldn't need to worry about the cameras at all after the infection."

"What if they have anti-virus?" Lan Fan asked. She doubted someone like Henry Chu would allow his computers to be so unprotected.

"This should get past those," Ling said. "At least, that's what Fuery tells me. He designed it himself. That said, we do only have fifteen minutes tops to do our stuff, before someone might be able to get things back in order."

"Fifteen minutes? That's not a lot of time at all!"

"You'll be surprised. The biggest time killer would be getting from the storage room to the study. Of course it would be a little harder if someone catches us, so I'm hoping you have a lot of practice being stealthy." He took out a bottle. "Here's a sedative if someone does manage to catch us. It gives the extra benefit of wiping out the past twenty-four hours of the recipient's memory."

"Where did you get this?"

"It was a joint project between Mei and Edward's brother, Alphonse," Ling said.

Lan Fan bit her lip. At first, Ling had seemed only an overzealous teen trying to put on shoes bigger than his feet. But now, she was starting to see that she had underestimated him a tad bit. He was much more well-prepared than she expected.

He smirked, "They're sort of... an item." He then flipped off the light, and jumped out of the car. She followed suit, and they both walked the rest of the way to catch the next bus.

-o-

The frigid air bit Winry's skin. But she didn't know if the shiver that followed had to do with the cold or with the ominous shadow behind the 7-11 building attempting to swallow her. Ling's warning came ringing in her mind, had been ringing since she had left her house.

Henry Chu could ask for anything as collateral. Anything.

Winry shook herself, hands clasping in fists to keep in the warmth. She reminded herself firmly that this was just a ruse. They were in a better position than those who came to him with all other doors closed. If Chu asked for something they could not afford, there was no imminent danger to themselves. The operation would be at risk, but there were no personal threats to any of them.

Plus, she thought, well aware that she was comforting herself much too frequently for ease to truly take root. Most of the money would be untouched. They would bargain for a reasonable amount that a group of rebels trying to evade the government would likely make, but since they would be involved in the fabricated purging of their own network, there really wasn't much to spend on.

"When is that bastard coming?" Ed growled beside her. "He's been making us wait for half-an-hour now! In the cold, no less!"

Winry had set up an appointment with XYZ Ltd. for tonight, and had received in their correspondence clear instructions that they were to wait outside of the lobby, before they would be escorted inside by none other than Chu himself.

"One would think he'd treat his customers a little nicer than this," he continued.

Winry shook her head. "With the kind of collaterals he asks for, I doubt being nice is the first on his priority list."

"You're absolutely right, Ms. Rockbell," a voice, cool and low, floated from the doorway, as the glass panes, locked merely moments before, slid to the side. Out stepped several men, at the front of which was Henry Chu. "Being nice is not the first on my priority list. Being smart is." He gave her a smile, dashing on his Xingese features, but Winry saw nothing of Ling in it. His short hair was combed back, graying at the roots, yet sleek and shiny. She wondered if that was the reason he was thirty minutes late, and almost laughed about it.

Ed, on the other hand, glowered at the tall man.

"But," Henry Chu reached for Winry's hand, and for one numb moment, she didn't know whether to recoil or to play along. Her indecision left her unmoving, and she watched as he lifted her hand to his lips and gave it a soft kiss. "Being nice is my second."

Ed made a sound as if he was throwing up in his mouth.

Winry gave an uncomfortable laugh and weaseled her hand out of Chu's grasp. Behind her, she could practically feel disgust oozing off of Ed in buckets, and she balked at the image of him making faces at this one person who needed to purchase their lie tonight.

Henry Chu merely smiled, a charming one, and nodded his head in the direction of the door.

They followed him and his bodyguards – at least Winry thought they were guards, but perhaps they could be thickly built assistants – through the lobby, up a wide set of stairs, and down a carpeted corridor. She had to give Ed a warning glance to remind him not to let his temper get the better of him. Finally, they were ushered inside a large, clean office. Chu settled himself behind a long, oaken desk, empty except for a laptop gleaming silver in the lamplight.

"Sit down," he gestured towards the chairs opposite from him. "Now, as I understand it, you two are from Auto-Mail." He said the last word slowly, almost as if savouring its taste, and there was a twinkle in his eyes that reminded Winry of a wolf.

"Yes," she replied. "We wish to apply for a loan."

Chu smiled, hand rubbing his chin. "I see, I see. Though to be thoroughly honest, I am quite surprised to hear from you! I'd have thought that Auto-Mail was doing quite well on its own. For certain, I have not heard from Auto-Mail since I have built this company."

Winry nodded politely, pointedly ignoring the fact the he knew full well he'd eaten out two of their biggest sources of money.

"Auto-Mail has recently met some... misfortunes," was all she said.

Chu nodded, and opened up his laptop. "Fair enough. How much do you need?"

Well, so it was true what they said. Hardly any questions asked.

"Four million sens," Winry said, confidently, as if she and her entire team of Auto-Mail admins had spent weeks calculating this exact value.

Chu raised an eyebrow. "Four million," he muttered, though he looked more amused than surprised. "That's quite a bit of sum. This isn't going to be a boring meeting, is it? But then again, I doubted that it would be." He leaned back against his chair, and began typing.

Winry saw Edward fidget on his seat, and held her breath. This was his part. Nobody else could hijack a person's attention like Ed could. And for the frame to work, they needed Chu's full attention on this one particular piece of information.

"We're deflecting a government investigation," Ed said with the perfect combination of pained reluctance and embarrassed admission. She could have almost laughed for the second ill-timed moment of the night. She hadn't known that Ed could act this well.

Chu's fingers paused over his keyboard. Slowly, his small smile spread into an outright sneer and he cocked his head to the side, as if assessing something about them, about the situation.

"How interesting," he replied. "I doubt four million sens is enough for that, my lad."

"Don't call me your lad!" Ed snapped. "Or do so many kids now come claiming you as their father that it's much easier for you to assume that every kid is yours?"

"Ed!" Winry hissed, eyes wide in outrage, but Chu just laughed.

"I like you," the Xingese man replied. "I've heard of your late father, Edward Elric. Renowned mathematician. His algorithms are now used widely in the sciences. I had a great deal of respect for the man. So let me give you a piece of advice. I know things that you don't, and trust me when I say that the amount you ask is not enough for that kind of goal."

Winry suspected that Chu was referring to the fact that a team of state militants came to him earlier in the week. How dramatically ironic for them to know what he assumed they didn't. She cut in before Ed could open his mouth again. "I don't mean to be cheeky, but how do we know that you're not just buoying the price up so that the collateral would just be as pricey?"

"Well, how about this? I will name the collateral for four million sens," he said, clasping his hands so he could rest his chin on top. "And I will give you a leeway of another million for the same price."

"And what would that price be?" Ed asked.

Chu smiled. A toothy, predatory smile. "You, Ms. Winry Rockbell. You every weekend until the debt is paid."

-o-

The door to the storage room was situated between the office building and a neighbouring burger shop, and the greasy aroma of grilled meat almost distracted Ling from opening the door. The cold air didn't pierce past his knitted cap, and his gloved hands helped against the blowing wind as much as it did to hide his fingerprints. He fumbled with the lock for a minute, remembering the little tricks he'd learned from Paninya, and within moments, he heard the undeniable click of the tumblers giving way. He pulled the door open, slowly, and allowed Lan Fan to squeeze through.

"Remember," he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Don't worry. It's my neck before yours."

They kept to the walls. Ling hoped that the camera hadn't been relocated since he had last visited. He noticed that it was still wedged between the two tall shelves, and exhaled contentedly. He pulled Lan Fan down to squat beside him against the first shelf to hide themselves from the camera's view, as he readied his laptop.

"Time to send Mr. Virus," he whispered, and he ran the program that hijacked the connection from the camera to the receiver, and used that same connection to transfer the contents of the memory stick. Within moments, he glimpsed a small, flashing red light at the base of the camera, indicating an error in reaching the central system.

Bingo.

"Let's go."

He rushed to the door, which was fortunately locked from the inside only, opened it, and after inspecting that there was nobody nearby – most of those in this part of the building seemed to be rushing to the camera room – he crossed the few feet between the storage entrance and the staircase in several wide steps. His shoes were silent on the stairs. He couldn't hear Lan Fan behind him, and that was good. He had dressed her similarly in dark garments, with a high collar that hid half her face. She still wore his Greed mask that she had turned into a hat, and he couldn't help but smile at that.

Reaching the top of the staircase, he opened the door that led into the main floor, and glimpsed into the hallway leading out. No one was there. But the hallway was long and narrow. If someone were to turn, he and Lan Fan would not have anywhere to hide. He patted the shooter hanging from his belt, and double checked that he'd loaded it with Mei's sedative. He slipped through the door, and began walking down the hallway.

Ling crossed its length quickly, eager to get to a wider space littered with entrances to many rooms. Rounding the corner, he found two guards, exactly in front of his father's study. He moved back against the cover of the wall, but he heard the surprised yelp of one of the guards, and knew that he'd been spotted. Ling grabbed the shooter from his belt, but before he even had a chance to move, he heard the telltale popping noise of the shooter going off twice.

He looked up, and found Lan Fan standing before him, her own shooter poised in her hand. Turning his head, the two guards were now slumped against the wall.

Nice. She was so fast. He gave Lan Fan a quick smile, before approaching his father's door. Like the one in the storage room, he worked Paninya's magic on this one as well.

"Here, pull them inside," he told Lan Fan. It would be nice if they could prop the guards up in mock display, so anyone peeking for a quick check wouldn't notice something wrong right away, but they didn't have time. He dragged one of them by the pits, and Lan Fan took the other by the collar.

Once inside, Ling rushed to the table, and began rummaging through the papers piled there.

"Don't take anything. Just pictures," he instructed her.

His father was a smart man. If any of Ling's past excursions had taught him something, it was that his father had a pattern for where he placed his things. Chu would put useless, unhelpful, and even misleading things in places like safes, locked drawers, and hidden binders. But the real treasure were stowed away haplessly on desk surfaces, tucked in between fashion magazines and pictures of pretty women. So that was where he told Lan Fan they had to look.

Ling found a list of upcoming appointments under a paperweight. He snapped a photo of it. He flipped through a notebook with scribbles, and began taking pictures of random pages, especially the ones with numerical figures on them. Glancing at his watch, they were at the nine minute mark. There was a camera installed in the study. Ling noticed that it was still flashing the red light. Good.

"Hey, take a look at this," Lan Fan held up a woman magazine, and took a picture out from in between. Ling almost cringed, but noticed the oddity of the image.

"That's not an attractive woman," he commented.

"I... don't think it's a woman at all," she stepped beside him, and they both inspected the picture. It was an image of an old person, dressed as a woman alright, with round spectacles hooked over their nose. There was a flamboyant, purple hat sitting on their head, a gaudy scarf wrapped around the neck.

It took a moment for Ling to recognize where he had seen the face before. "Wait, is that who I think it is?"

"It's President Grumman," Lan Fan said. "Crossdressing."

"Nah, he uses that as a disguise," Ling explained. "Been at it since before the Sanitary Movement. I heard he used it quite often then."

"I don't think this picture is that old."

"He's been known to employ that strategy from time to time. Gets him in certain places he otherwise would have trouble going to."

Lan Fan left the picture tucked in the magazine, and went back to the stack of books she was scouring through. "There are more of him here," she pulled out newspaper clippings and online article printouts, highlighted and noted, from between the stacks. All of them about the president's whereabouts and political leanings.

"Interesting." He took a snapshot of each of the articles, and tugged them back to where Lan Fan found them. "Okay, I think it's time we start wrapping up."

Lan Fan looked around, as if she still wanted to continue rummaging through the room. "Maybe we'd find other things," she said.

"We might have found more than you think we have," Ling assured her. "Like they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Come on," he urged.

He went to the windows, noticing the small gadget attached to the sill. Exiting was much easier than getting in, usually, because the alarms could be disabled from the inside. He didn't know the code to shut the alarm off, but he did notice the wedge in plastic at the bottom of the device, which allowed him to pry open the battery compartment and remove the power source.

Ling lifted the window pane, and stepped out on the ledge. This had been his exit of choice last time too. Because of the study's location, he now faced a brick wall that separated the office building from the next block of offices. One strong jump was all it took for him to grab the top of the wall. From there, it was easy for him to swing himself over.

Lan Fan was hot on his heels. She didn't forget to shut the window, but it would already be clear that someone had infiltrated the office. From the surveillance virus to the two unconscious men, his father would definitely hear word of this. It was a good thing that Ling was not the only one who was interested in his father's business. The man had a good list of suspects to choose from.

The two jumped off the wall, and landed on the street on the other side.

"Hey!"

Ling barely had time to turn around, before he registered the sound of a gun going off, and Lan Fan stumbling against his back.

"Run!" she whispered to him, a hand latching onto his arm. He sprinted.

Another shot, and Lan Fan pushed him ahead. "Go in front of me!" she ordered.

He looked at her, but she didn't look hurt; she was pulling her hat low on her head, fixing up the collar of her coat to cover her face. He kept running. He felt a piece of metal ricochet from the impact of another shot, as the bullet hit a group of garbage bins.

The alley opened up, and he rounded the corner.

"Go the other way!" he told her.

"I'm supposed to protect you," she said, but stumbled backwards as another shot was fired. Ling looked back into the alley, and found the gunman running after them. It was too dark to make out specifics – and he hoped that the same thing can be said about them – but he could tell she was a woman. Her red hair was tied back in a pony tail.

"We'll make better progress if we split up," he began running down the eastbound street. "I'll meet you at the car!"

He saw guards spilling from the front door of the office. Ling crossed the street, just as he began to hear cars revving up from the office's parking lot. Looking behind his shoulder, he saw that the woman had decided to follow him instead of Lan Fan. She was directing the others; she must be the lead guard for the night. Ling lifted his tranquilizer, and released a needle. When the woman keeled over in the middle of the street, he knew he hadn't missed.

Ling looked ahead and saw an open Xingese noodle house. He ran inside, where a young Xingese woman was serving two diners. She looked up at him, startled, and he put a finger to his lips. He took off his coat, reversed it, and wore it with the blue skin out, instead of the black. He pulled off his hair elastic, and shook his hair free, like those women he saw on shampoo commercials.

"Vegetarian dumplings?" he asked, holding up two 10-sens bills. The young server hesitated, confused, but nodded her head. "I'll, uh, grab it on my way out," Ling said, placing the bills on top of the counter, and made his way through the kitchen. He heard sounds of protests from the girl, but he ignored them. He took out a small, sling bag from his backpack, transferred all his things to it, and dumped the backpack in the trash can by the kitchen.

He heard an angry and surprised yelp from one of the cooks, but Ling merely stated in Xingese that he had already paid for the dumplings up front. He grabbed a plastic bento tray filled with the dumplings, and made his way out the back door.

He took a moment to listen to sounds of pursuit. Slowly, he made his way out to the street. He glanced around. He couldn't see any of the guards' cars. From the sling bag, he took out his headphones and one of his school notebooks. Hopefully from here he'd look like an ordinary student trying to squeeze a bit of studying at night. He walked towards one of the bus stops, and boarded the next one that came by. Just before it closed, one of the guards from Chu's office came in.

Ling looked away, trying to be appear as nonchalant as he could. The man walked slowly down the bus. He stopped in front of Ling. Ling allowed himself one glance at the man, a seemingly curious one that somebody innocent might give. He'd learned over the years that trying to avoid looking at a strange scenario was a good indication that you had something to do with it. The man was observing the passengers, including him. Slowly, Ling turned back to his phone as if he was adjusting the volume of the music he was listening to.

At the next bus stop, the man got off. Ling didn't relax, not completely, but the rest of the commute to the farthest station of Tobha was uneventful.

Ling was anxious of how long he would have to wait for Lan Fan. He exited the station and began walking to the parking lot. Going solo on missions like this before, he never had to worry about anyone else. But it also meant that he had the full attention of all the guards whenever something went wrong. It wasn't quite a lie that he could take care of himself, but having that extra buffer – and knowing that said buffer was perfectly competent – gave him a little extra breathing room.

Fortunately, he saw Lan Fan already standing by the car when he approached. He smiled, and found himself a little more at ease.

"I didn't have the keys," she said, pulling her coat closer to her.

"I'm sorry. How long have you been waiting?"

She shrugged. "Not long."

"Good," he smiled. "Glad to know that I'm not that far behind when it comes to escaping prowess."

"I used up all the sedative needles though."

So she left a trail of sleeping bodies. He nodded, knowing that sometimes that couldn't be helped. He opened the car, and both of them settled inside. Before driving away, he opened the car light, and inspected Lan Fan. There was a bullet hole on her left sleeve, right above where her elbow would have been. He believed it must have been from that first gunshot.

"I hope you don't mind buying me a new coat," she said, a rare smile on her lips. He returned it.

"Not at all. Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked, fingering the hole in her sleeve.

"No, but I'm afraid I would have to charge some incidental fees."

He smiled wider, and began to drive out of the parking lot. As they entered the highway, Lan Fan shifted beside him. "Actually, can I ask for something again?"

"What is it?"

"...a detour, if possible."

-o-

The words struck Edward like a hammer charged with lightning, and he bolted out of his seat. His hand slammed Chu's laptop closed, trapping the man's fingers in between the metal folds. A spark of satisfaction snapped inside when he saw the man's smile crumple, replaced with a grimace.

Then amusement completely wore off, and when Chu's face clouded with a stormy rage, Ed realized he had crossed a line.

He didn't care. The line was asking to be crossed.

"That better not mean what I think it means, old man," Ed said.

The room was silent. A boiling pressure was building inside Ed, and it was seducing him to fist the man in the gut. Then he heard the telling sound of a gun click behind him.

"Ed," Winry warned. "Sit down."

Bah, she talked as if he was a dog.

He eased away from the desk, but he didn't sit back down. It was nice to be standing, satisfying to be staring down rather than up.

"It means," Chu began, talking slowly indeed as if to a dog. Ed glared. "Knowledge about Auto-Mail." He turned back to Winry. "Every weekend, you will attend me for two hours in which you will answer any question I have whatsoever about Auto-Mail."

"You want me to divulge company matters?" Secrets, more like it. But considering what Ling had to steal for Operation Greed 1.0, Edward found he could not muster any surprise by the request. Just rage.

Chu shrugged. "It's a fair trade, don't you think? Would that encourage you to pay me back as soon as possible?"

"And what do you intend to do with that information? Sell it to your friends?" Ed scoffed.

"What I do with your payment is up to me, same as I let you do whatever you wish with my money. Go ahead, pull the wool over the head of those military dogs, for all I care." Chu sighed, opening his laptop again. "You are very suspicious of me. I should take it as a compliment. You think I'm smart."

"I think you didn't get to where you are now without having a few surprises up your sleeves."

"This is getting a bit juvenile," Henry Chu sighed, running his hand through his shiny hair. "So, do we have a deal in the making or not? Five million sens for a weekend appointment with the young lady here?"

"It's four million. No way we're racking up more interest," Ed stated. "And you're crazier than I thought if you think I'd let Winry come here alone."

"Do you have a different proposition?"

"I come with her." Ed was no fool. If Chu truly wanted just company secrets, why not ask for administrator rights to their databases? No, he wanted something more substantial, a more concrete form of insurance. For every single session he has with Winry, she would be playing the role of a hostage, and Ed could not allow that. At least, he could not allow her to be alone if something should go wrong. While he was not eager to be in Chu's clutches either, safety in numbers was an advice he was willing to take this time around.

Chu chuckled. Ed's hand itched to wipe that smile off his face, but disgust at the thought of having to touch the man helped him observe some decorum. The business man remained silent for a few minutes, typing on his laptop. When he stopped, a printer wheezed to life, spitting out several pages of written document. One of the men lining the wall adjacent to the door picked up the sheets and brought them over to Chu. He split the document in half, stapling the first batch and handing them over to Ed and Winry.

"Here is a preliminary outline of the loan application detailing our tentative agreement," he explained. "You have twenty-four hours to think it over. By tomorrow night I will expect either an acceptance or a supplication to re-negotiate our deal, including termination. However, after you have accepted the agreement, there will no longer be further opportunities for renegotiation nor termination."

Winry accepted the document, and folded it neatly in her bag. Ed glanced at his watch. The meeting had taken only twenty minutes. They were waiting for longer than that. He hoped that whatever Ling and Lan Fan were up to, they were finished with it.

When they exited the building, Ed gladly welcomed the crispiness of the autumn air, submerging the growing heat of annoyance inside him.

"I don't like it," he said. "This is all Ling's fault, that shifty-eyed punk."

"Shush! Stop being so loud, would you? And don't be too impulsive," Winry told him, placing a firm yet calming hand on his shoulder. "We have an entire day to talk this over with the others." She led the way out of the vicinity of XYZ Ltd. with him following her like a temperamental skulking shadow. Before they crossed the street to where they had parked their car, she turned back to him.

"I'm not afraid."

Damn. He hated it when she said that. Because it usually meant that there was reason to be, and Winry – stupid, headstrong Winry – was just the type of person who would get involved in it without batting an eyelash.

-o-

Ling headed south as directed by Lan Fan, and stopped at a 24/7 post office halfway between Tobha and South City. Lan Fan was inserting a thick pile of bills, which she had withdrawn from a bank machine on their way here, inside an envelope. She licked the seal, and closed it.

"This is for Grandpa's medicine," she told him in a low voice. There was a hesitance in the set of her shoulders, almost as if she was contemplating whether she ought to tell him about it. Ling got the notion from their previous conversation about her grandfather that she was receiving the medicine from someone not licensed to provide medication. He could understand the reason behind her hesitation.

She got out of the car, and went inside the post office. Inside, there were rows and rows of metal mailboxes on two of the walls. She unlocked one of them, and placed the envelope inside.

When she came back, she was quiet and much more somber.

"Is that how you make payments?" he asked, as he veered out of the parking lot.

"Yes. I make a deposit in that box. I usually make monthly payments, but sometimes when Grandpa is feeling worse than usual, I'd make extras. After five to seven days, I'd come back, and his medicine would be there."

Ling nodded. It was as good an arrangement as any.

"How much is it?" he asked. "I mean, if you don't mind my asking."

"It's 5,000 sens per bottle."

Ling almost stomped on the breaks. "What? Five thousand?"

Lan Fan nodded, her shoulders seeming to sag even more. "It's expensive."

"Geez, Lan Fan, for that small bottle? Are you sure your independent vendor is not ripping you off?"

"Unfortunately, he seems to have a monopoly."

Ling shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. His mind briefly flashed back to Lan Fan's old apartment, its ragged and worn-down state. Of the way she carefully handled his old mask. Of the longing in her eyes when he took her to school.

"Lan Fan, how long has your grandfather been sick?"

She stiffened. "Just a couple of years."

Oh. That meant that her grandfather became ill around the same time she lost her arm. How she handled that, he could not even begin to imagine. A sickening feeling pooled in his stomach. Suddenly, he felt very uneasy and obnoxious with his large, clean house, his shelves filled to brimming with school textbooks, his fancy clothes, and even his good health. Sure, he fainted sometimes, but compared to Lan Fan or Fu, that was nothing.

"Maybe we can ask Winry to find someone else who carries that medicine," Ling suggested. "If anyone would know, it would be her, for sure. Maybe even Dr. Marcoh would know."

"I'd... rather not," Lan Fan said, looking away from him.

"No? Well, why not?"

The girl shifted uncomfortably, hand reaching for the left sleeve of her coat. "Auto-Mail already has money issues. I'd like to keep mine out of it."

Well, that was a strange thing to say for someone who used Auto-Mail to find the source of her next paycheck. The guilt-induced discomfort he was feeling metamorphosed into something a little more sour, a feeling he'd become accustomed to thanks to his rising unpopularity among his half-siblings. Lan Fan was a treasure of secrets, most of which he had no right to begrudge. But for the first time, he wondered if his fond curiosity towards this girl was not actually part suspicion.

AN: Well, there you go. Fourth chapter. I hope things aren't boring. If the writing is dry, let me know, and I'll see how I can make things a little more interesting.