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Hughes scrabbled onto the ground he had covered yesterday, this time unarmed, and pulled up Winry after him. They both stared at the Reichstag, cratered and pockmarked as it was, seeing the Red flag waving from the top and the joyous troops celebrating around its' base, firing weapons in the air, dancing and celebrating their survival. In amongst the sea of Khaki though, another two blue jackets. Winry stared, trying to make out who they belonged to, before realising they were the Brigadier-General and Captain, accosted as they were by a Pravda reporter.

"Why the different uniforms?"

"They were a special commission, for a few selected officers."

"Both of you emerged from Hitler's bunker, please, what happened? They announced that Hitler was dead, but how?"

Mustang made sure to be heard over the din of celebration. "The coward shot himself."

"Another question..."

Mustang shook his head, Riza having pointed out Winry to him, and left the reporter standing in the open, seeing no other leads on his report.

They both embraced Winry and exchanged pleasantries as she led them back to the sewer entrance, before Mustang did a double-take, noticing Hughes.

"Y...y...ou're..."

"No time to explain. Please follow me."

**

Stalin toasted himself once more, draining the glass of the vodka yet again. He blinked, staring at the map, before contentedly puffing away on his pipe once more. All of Eastern Europe lay in his sphere of influence and under the thumb of the Red Army. He had achieved the breathing space that the USSR needed, and now... now he could take advantage of the situation.

A knock led his eyes to the door.

"Come in."

Beria walked in calmly, shaking the premier's hand strongly.

"Congratulations on your success, comrade Premier."

"Yes... but we must never forget the sacrifices that were demanded to gain it."

Beria nodded.

"But sir, there is another pressing issue for your attention."

"Elric..."

Beria nodded, taking the opportunity to rid himself of another suitor for the role of premier.
"Sir, I have reason to believe that Mr. Elric is working in league with the Americans."

"To what aim?"

"To destabilize our glorious USSR, and to bring an army of warriors from beyond the divide between our two worlds, calling to him a terrible force with which to subdue his enemies. Doubtless the USSR will be his first target."

Stalin merrily chuckled.

"Beria, as always you find me enemies. I'm sure you have evidence of this transgression?"

Beria laid the folder with the recent pictures of the Reichstag in front of his leader, thankfully censored before they could be published.

"He has already called his army to him, comrade Premier."

**

Condensation had formed on the window, she surmised, laying the blanket around Edward while looking at Goncharov closely.

"Do you believe it? Any of it?"

He smiled at her, taking off the peaked cap and smoothing its rim.

"I don't see that we have much choice." He stood up carefully, staying upright through the buffetting turbulence while she finished making Elric more comfortable. He was rather gaunt, but still dressed well for a civilian who had been caught in the middle of the offensive. The Polkovnik spoke through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present.

"You know, we still haven't really celebrated the victory yet."

She raised an eyebrow, hoping he wouldn't give her that same smirk she had known since before the war.

"What did you have in mind?"

"A little time alone with my wife."

She smiled as he gently held her closely.

"Married on Mamaev Kurgan, at the end of the battle... What would our parents say?"

Goncharov wiped away one of her stray hairs and smiled.

"That we make a perfect couple."

Ed kept himself from smiling, still feigning sleep.

His hunch had been right.