The Waterstone of the Wise [8]

[scriveyner]

.:Chapter Eight:.

The engines of the cargo plane were noisy in the hold, not nearly as muffled as they would be from up front. Sofia sat beside Edward, her legs pulled to her chest and nestled against his side. He had not discouraged her from getting this close and it was comforting; it was startlingly easy for Edward to think of her as a sister.

It was cold in the hold. Nicholas sat further down, his back to one of the wooden crates, staring blankly at the cargo webbing across from him, his thoughts clearly a hundred miles away. Indy on the other hand was on his feet, poking through the crates curiously, his hat pushed back on his forehead as he squinted at the German printed on the outside of each box. He was too far away for Edward to ask what he was looking for without having to shout - and while the noise of the engines would likely mask the noise, Edward did not want to take any chances.

Ling was, after all, on this plane as well.

This was the last leg of it. They were headed to Eiselstein’s castle. Edward would take back his father’s notebook and kick the man’s ass into the next century. His system was shot through with adrenaline at the thought, even though it could be hours until they made it to the castle Edward wanted to be on his feet and throwing punches into the air.

His automail did not twinge when he was running on pure adrenaline. However behind the rush he could feel that there was a biting exhaustion waiting for him. After this adventure, then what? Back to a life of mediocrity and boredom, grading papers and dealing with students and a government who watched his every move with suspicion? Edward sighed and stared at his gloved hands.

Sofia put her head on his shoulder and sighed as well. Edward stiffened awkwardly - the noise of the engines made small talk all but impossible.

Indy clumped back over, a crowbar slung over his shoulder. He dropped to a crouch in front of Edward. “Oi, you should come check this out.”

Edward nodded and Sofia sat up, allowing Edward to get slowly to his feet. Nicholas watched them both with interest now, but he did not get up either as Indy took Edward to some of the first crates in the hold.

Indy had been hard at work, prying the tops off of some of the crates. “Check this out,” Indy said, and Edward lifted the lid of the crate.

It was full of weapons. More accurately, guns. Lots of them. “There’s more,” Indy said loudly, over the hum of the engine. “Loads more. All these crates are either guns or ammunition!” Indy slapped one of the crates he hadn’t opened yet. “It’s like Eiselstein is preparing for his own personal war!”

Indy was right. The crates didn’t bear the seal of the Nazis on them - these were Eiselstein’s own personal weapons cache. Edward gripped the edge of the crate as he thought hard. The first thought he had had was that Eiselstein was going to make the same foolish mistake Eckhart did, and was going to try to take an army through the Gate to conquer Amestris. That would require considerably more in the way of resources, though, and Edward was willing to bet that the Nazis were not going to be interested in funding a second failure.

But to open the Gate it had taken both Envy - as the Great Dragon - and his father’s life. There were no more homunculi lurking about on this side of the Gate, so what was Eiselstein going to use -

The Philosopher’s Stone.

Edward took a step back, staggered at the enormity of the thought. “I know what he’s doing!” Edward’s voice carried just above the noise of the engines.

“I was wondering if you’d figure it out.”

Indy did not even hesitate when they both heard Ling’s voice. He turned and swung the crowbar in his hands like a baseball bat. Ling ducked under his swing and shoved Indy in the back, making him stagger forward toward two large, burly men in black. Thrown off his balance by Ling and the rumbling of the plane Indy could not quite get a second swing out of the crowbar with the same intensity as the first.

Ling stood in front of Edward. He did not move to attack him yet, just stood with his hands folded in front of him and an endearing smile on his face. “So you’ve figured it out then, Professor?”

“Eiselstein is going to open the Gate,” Edward said. “To get to the country that will allow him to create as many Philosopher’s Stones as he can get away with.”

“And bring them back here, yes,” Ling said. “One reserved for the personal use of the Nazi Fuhrer, one for the League’s dissemination, and the rest for whatever he wishes.”

“He’s going to betray you,” Edward said. “He’ll betray you AND your League. Why would he come back through the Gate? The price isn’t worth it.”

“Then one of us will go after him,” Ling said. “It doesn’t much matter, as long as we’ve got both you and your brother the Gate can be kept open almost indefinitely. It just needs to be big enough for one man - not an army.”

The sudden sound of a gunshot made both Ling and Edward flinch, ducking involuntarily in the tight cargo hold. Edward lifted his head to see one of the very large thugs topple over backwards, a neat red hole in the middle of his forehead. He glanced back the way the shot came and saw Sofia standing against a crate, her pistol braced with both hands and a look of determination on her face.

“Holy shit,” Edward said. “She can shoot!”

“I told you I could!” Sofia yelled at Edward, although he doubted she could hear his exact wording. Indy was still swinging his crowbar at the other thug, now not nearly as outnumbered as before.

And then Edward realized Ling was no longer standing across from him. He stood quickly to see that Ling had darted across the hold to where Nicholas had gotten to his feet.

The solid thud of Indy hitting the steel side of the cargo hold made Edward glance back at him. The thug he was fighting had Indy by the neck, the crowbar dropped useless to the floor somewhere. Edward was torn by a moment's indecision before he vaulted over the box he was standing behind and headed for Ling.

“Stay away from Nick!” Edward yelled, using a crate as a springboard and whipping his leg around fast, trying to catch Ling in the midsection. Ling managed to block Edward’s blow as well he could but it still spun him away from Nicholas. Sofia yelped and climbed over the crate she had used to brace herself when Ling slammed into another one near her. “Help Indy,” Edward yelled at Sofia. “Ling is mine!”

Sofia nodded, revolver held tight in her hands as she tried to find a better shooting vantage point. Edward put her out of his mind, planting his feet firmly in a martial artist’s stance and keeping himself between Ling and Nicholas.

“You don’t have to protect me,” Nicholas said.

“No,” Edward responded, his hands up in front of him, tracking Ling with his eyes. “But I owe this asshole the beating of his life.”

Ling straightened, getting situated in a similar stance to Edward’s at the same time. “We’ll see about that,” Ling said, eyes narrow.

~ * ~

Indy kicked at the man who had his arm locked around his neck. He had dropped the crowbar - it had clanged to the floor somewhere out of reach - when he was startled by the second thug getting shot in the head. The only other person armed in their merry little band was the woman - Sofia - and damn, that had been a good shot.

But that was the least of his concerns at the moment. Right now, his priority was to not lose access to oxygen. Indy had no purchase against the man who held him tight against his body, and he was going to black out soon if something did not happen to even the odds.

This time the gunshot ricocheted off of the metal behind them both, the shot missing the other thug’s temple by a hair. He let out a surprised noise, his arm loosening just enough for Indy to suck a huge breath into his abused lungs and grab a handful of his opponent’s hair. He still did not have quite the purchase required to do serious damage but it was enough to make the man swing him around toward the bulkhead.

Indy braced his feet against the metal of the wall and shoved back.

Luck was with him. The plane hit some turbulence at that very moment. Combined with the momentum he just gave the man the thug staggered backwards off his balance and Indy’s feet finally touched the floor again.

However, the man had not let him go yet. Indy twisted under his tight grip, struggling hard to get free. With both of his feet on the ground now he was able to run the man backwards against the wall - except that wasn’t a wall there, that was where the controls for the cargo bay ramp was. He felt the man grunt loudly as he hit all those controls, and with a lurching groan, the entire cargo bay area shuddered.

Edward slammed back against the wall where the restraint webbing hung from. Nicholas had moved barely just in time, and Edward grabbed a fist full of the webbing and somehow kept his feet.

Ling was holding back nothing, and that was just the way Edward wanted it. He swiped the blood from his face with a snarl and launched himself at the assassin, blooding thrumming in hie veins.

His entire world had narrowed down to the dark-haired man with the taunting grin and the too-fast strikes. Ling had learned to compensate for Edward’s automail; his strikes were toward flesh and bone - although he did miscalculate once, or perhaps he did not realize that Edward’s false leg included a knee, because Ling’s heel strike reverberated off of the automail joint and he swore something in Chinese.

The fatal misstep was when Nicholas, trying to keep out of the way of the circling combatants, got too close to Ling. Ling turned suddenly on him, grabbing Nicholas by the front of his shirt and spinning him between Edward and himself.

“Ling!” Edward yelled, frustrated. “Coward!”

“Opportunist,” Ling corrected. “Now, Flamel, I know you have some bit of the Stone on you, do you not? I suggest you surrender it to me before I break your neck.”

It was at that moment that the entire back of the plane shuddered. Edward grabbed the restraint webbing, hanging on to it as Sofia shrieked, clinging to one of the cargo crates. Ling had nothing to hang on to but Nicholas, and Nicholas used the moment to shove Ling away, scrambling aft.

Indy was still locked in the hold of the black-clad thug, struggling to get free. “Sofia!” he gasp-shouted. “Sofie, do something-!”

Sofia climbed on top of the crate she had been clinging to, aimed with her pistol and shot the thug in the shoulder, centimeters from Indy’s ear. The man howled and let Indy go completely, his hand going to his wound. Indy turned around and slugged him, and this time he staggered right back into the controls and grabbed one, trying to steady himself.

Instead of keeping him steady, the control clicked downward, and with a whirring noise the loading door at the aft of the plane started to open.

Indy grabbed his hat as the cargo area filled with wind. Edward was still hanging tight to the restraint webbing, several of the crates sliding toward the aft of the plane. Nicholas staggered, with very little to hold on to before Ling grabbed him.

Nicholas struggled against Ling's grip. It was hard to see or hang on to anything with the amount of wind coming from the open cargo ramp. Ling made a grab for the black velvet drawstring pouch that Nicholas was wearing around his neck, and Nicholas shoved him hard, with both hands. Startled, Ling released him and Nicholas took two large steps backward - and vanished right off the extended cargo ramp.

There were only seconds to act, and Edward did not even hesitate. Sofia was screaming but he could not hear the words, the volume of wind was far too much. His hair whipped around his head and his ponytail struck like a living thing, but Edward bolted aft. Ling danced out of the way before Edward could grab him too, but Edward did not bother to waste more time on the assassin. Without breaking stride Edward slid down the cargo ramp and dove after Nicholas.

With all the wind in the cargo hold even Indy could not hear what was going on. His attacker had lumbered forward again, but he was staggering and that meant the man was lurched forward - his jaw just at the right height for several sharp punches. His opponent slumped forward and landed, unconscious, on the floor.

Now Indy could hear Sofia's screams. He turned to see her, hanging on to the restraint webbing on the side of the plane, her pistol in one hand as she aimed it at Ling. "No!" Indy yelled, his voice not carrying through the noise. "No, don't shoot him!"

The recoil made Sofia stagger back, her feet slipping on the beveled metal floor. She hit Ling, but where it was hard to tell. He staggered back, and vanished off the cargo ramp.

Indy winced, and turned back to the control panel, locating the cargo ramp and pulling it so that the ramp retracted and closed. After a few long moments the whipping air died down and for the first time Sofia's sobs could be heard as she clung to the restraint webbing with both hands.

He moved across the now scattered crates to her. "Sofie, what's wrong?" He looked around sharply and realized, with a sinking feeling, that they were along in the aft of the plane. "Where's Ed and Nicholas?”

Instead of answering, Sofia turned her face into her arm and cried. Indy straightened, pushing his hat back on his head. There was nothing they could do, now. "Sofia," he said instead. "Sofie, I'm sorry-"

The door that separated the cargo from the front of the plane slammed open, and two men started yelling in German. Indy jerked upright, but both men were holding pistols pointed directly at him. Indy looked around, and then slowly, held up his hands.

~ * ~

The wind made it nearly impossible to hear anything, never mind see. Edward's eyes teared up almost instantly. He kept his arms and legs together, scanning desperately for any sign of Nicholas.

This was probably the stupidest thing he had done in a long history of stupid, off-the-cuff things - but now was not the time for a laundry list of regrets. He squinted and then, luck was with him because he saw Nicholas in free fall, spinning through the air. Edward tucked his arms and legs in together and angled himself toward the alchemist.

There was no time to be afraid. He put his hand in his waistcoat pocket and found the shard. Clutching it tight in his automail hand, Edward transferred it from hand to his mouth, holding it securely in his teeth as he closed the gap between them.

He hit Nicholas in mid-air. The impact was enough to drive the breath from both their lungs, and somehow Edward did not drop the shard. He could not yell any instructions to Nicholas, who thrashed against him, so Edward instead tightened his arms around the other man as they plummeted headfirst toward the ground.

There was not a lot of time to play around. Edward crunched the shard as hard as he could, the fragments sharp and cutting his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He did not even KNOW if this was going to work, he had no guarantee but if it didn't ... they were both dead, so it better.

Edward closed his eyes, focused everything inward, on that sharp metallic tang of blood in his mouth, that strange sweetness that the shard had - and that small glimmer of hope. He reached inward, grabbed at that trace of power, and then opened his eyes and clapped his hands.

The reaction was instantaneous. It was second nature, it always had been, Edward pressed the palms of his hands, one against Nicholas' back, the other his own arm. The fabric of their coats rippled, the blue charge of alchemical reaction flowing around them both as Nicholas went limp.

The patchwork parachute flew open, jerking them both hard. It wasn't big enough, but it slowed their descent considerably so that Edward could minimize the damage done.

He had done all he could. Edward tightened his arms around Nicholas as the tree line came rushing up at them. They weren't free falling, not any more, but this was NOT going to be pleasant.

~ * ~

The military-issue truck braked hard, slamming to a nearly complete stop on the road. The officer who had been dozing the passenger seat was slammed back against his seat and he shouted obscenities in two languages, before focusing on the driver.

<"Are you mad!"> he demanded in German. <"Why did you stop!">

<"Because,”> the driver said, indicating the road in front of them. <”They fell from the sky.”> For the first time the driver looked forward, in time to see a make-shift, patchwork parachute settling over the figures that had broken through the canopy above.