It was so easy to forget how uneven alchemy made a fight. No ordinary guy ever had a chance.
Mustang's men watched her warily from their desks, all twitchy and afraid to meet her eye. That was good: nervous dogs were easier to train.
“Sir,” he says, and Roy could be imagining it, but he thinks Falman’s usually flat tone has a hint of panic in it. “Have you read this memo yet?”
While the Chief practices his best vengeful face and looks up the recipe for a fake corpse in some freaky alchemy cookbook, Breda and the rest of Team Mustang get to deal with the really annoying bits of this operation.