Disclaimer: I do not won Fullmetal Alchemist. Hiromu Arakawa does. I only own the OC characters.

Description: This next one is based off of the movie Taken. I've only watched half of the movie, so this story will not follow that exact plot line. I've put my own twist to it. WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual content and non-consensual drug use.

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Edward Elric entered the empty hotel room that he would be staying in. The town that he was visiting for a mission struck him as slightly odd. The man who had driven him here, who was supposedly his personal taxi driver, just put him off. There had been something hidden underneath that person's look, like someone examining a rather interesting specimen. But, he decided to put it off, dismissed it as his mind playing tricks on him.

The Colonel Bastard made him go on this mission without Al, his little brother. Naturally, he was in a foul mood because of this decision. Mustang had said something about the empty suit of armor not being qualified for this specific assignment. It didn't make sense. Al had always gone with him on missions before. Why was this one time different than any other?

Speaking of which, the colonel had also told him he needed to call him once he got there. Setting his trunk on the bed, the young alchemist dialed for Mustang's office using the phone on the nightstand. He prepared himself for whatever banter the bastard would throw his way.

"About time, Fullmetal. Did you have a smooth trip?" Mustang inquired.

The temple in Ed's forehead bulged slightly. "For your information, Colonel, the trains that go out in the middle of nowhere have no cushioning. Tell me again why you're exercising so much caution when sending me out to the sticks."

Mustang continued in a stern tone. "Like I've told you, this mission isn't anything like you've handled before. The people involved in these disappearances have the skill and numbers equivalent to a terrorist organization. That's why only qualified State Alchemists are equipped to neutralize them."

"Bullcrap! C'mon, Mustang, you know I can handle a few terrorists. You didn't have to go so far as to hire me a personal driver," Ed complained.

Mustang perked up and side glanced at the receiver. "What personal driver? I didn't hire anyone to do that."

Edward stopped his annoyed ranting. "Don't tell me you don't remember. The guy waiting for me at the station said you hired him to escort me around."

The colonel immediately became apprehensive. Something wasn't right. He hadn't hired anyone to escort Fullmetal. That could only mean... but how had they caught on to what the military was doing? "What did he look like, Edward? Describe him to me."

Ed was caught off guard. Mustang never called him by his actual name inside of work. "Um," he began. "He was, uh, he was tall. Fully grown, firm build. Dark hair and lightly toned skin. Dark eyes." The young alchemist didn't understand Mustang's urgency. "What's this about, Colonel? Is there something you're not telling me?"

Mustang clenched his fist on top of his desk. Damn it, how could they have known? "Fullmetal, you need to leave right now!" he exclaimed.

Ed's eyes widened in confusion. "What? Why? What's wrong?"

Mustang cursed himself for not debriefing the boy enough earlier. He thought he could have exercised caution, but these people were one step ahead of him. "Just do it now! You're not safe there!"

Before the teen could question him more, he heard a knock at his hotel room door. He was instantly set on edge. No one else should have known he was here. "Colonel, someone's at my door."

Immediately after he said that, a huge crash shook the door in its frame. The knocking turned to pounding. "They're trying to break in," Ed exclaimed.

Mustang cursed under his breath. "You need to hide, but keep me on the line. Make sure that I can eavesdrop."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Ed inquired, but another pound on the door sent him scrambling into action. He set the receiver behind the phone dock, and wriggled under the bed. He stayed still even as the door was kicked open, one of the hinges breaking off. He heard footsteps wandering around the room, as well as voices.

"Does he think he can hide from us? He's just a kid."

"I wouldn't go underestimating him if I were you. He wouldn't have gotten into the military if he didn't have exceptional skill." Edward recognized that voice. It was the driver from earlier. Why the hell was he here?

"Still," the second man said, "he'll get us some good dough once he's conditioned. Serves those State Alchemists right."

This "conditioning" that these people mentioned sent the boy's heart racing. He'd rather not be subjected to it. It didn't sound like anything good. His heart nearly skipped a beat when the men entered the bedroom where he was hiding. Holding his breath, he watched their feet wander around the room, seeming to survey the area.

"He doesn't appear to be here," the driver said. The footsteps echoed back the way they had come, sounding as if though he had exited through the bedroom door. Ed let out the breath he had been holding. The coast seemed clear. Now, he could take these goons by surprise.

"Gotcha," a voice said behind him. A strong pair of hands gripped Ed's ankles, roughly pulling him out from under the bed. He was forced to face the second man, a normal figure with brown hair and emerald eyes. His face held a confident grin. The teen went to clap his hands together, but the man grabbed his right wrist and pinned it to the floor, while he used his other arm to press against the boy's chest. "Ah, ah, ah," he said. "Can't have you using alchemy. It would make this much more difficult."

Ed grit his teeth, and kicked the man in the face with his left leg. The intruder's hands flew to his now broken nose, blood dripping through his fingers. But before the teen could continue with his retaliation, the man seemed quick to recover, and he was angry.

"You little bastard!" he shouted, gripping the boy by the hair. He tossed Edward to the wall behind him. The back of the boy's head hit the wall hard, causing him to see stars. He lay still after he fell to the floor, the world spinning around him. Eventually, darkness crept up on him, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

The cocky grin was back on the man's face as he picked up the boy, holding him like a damsel in distress. The driver from before had looked on, confident that his accomplice could overpower the child. Something caught his eye, however. The receiver to the phone was placed behind the dock. That meant that whoever the boy was talking to was still listening.

The driver walked over to the nightstand, and picked up the receiver. Holding it to his ear, he said, "Hello, Roy Mustang. I appreciate you sending your subordinate to us. He really is quite the catch."

Back in Central, Colonel Mustang grit his teeth. This bastard was going to pay. Having gotten to his feet when he heard the fighting going on, the colonel had listened on with growing dread. This man was mocking him, teasingly antagonizing him with how easy it was to overpower the youngest of his team. Gripping the receiver tightly, he vehemently said, "I don't know who you are, but if you think you can get away with this, think again. I'll hunt you down and burn you to ashes myself."

The driver on the other end grinned. "Good luck with that, Colonel. You're going to need it." With that, the line went dead. Mustang slammed down the receiver, frustrated and angry with himself for getting Edward into this situation.

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Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I've been getting awesome comments about this series so far, and I really appreciate it. Despite all the horrible things happening to Ed, I do enjoy writing this. Speaking of this story, this one is going to be much more brutal than the last one. If any of you have seen Taken, then you know exactly what I mean. My version of this plot will be less action-y and more angsty.

I've been spending a lot of my summer looking at colleges and occasionally visiting a few in my home state. Like now, for instance. My mom is going to be taking me to A&M for a day. I'm getting close to having to pick the colleges I want to apply for. Thankfully, my grades and GPA give me a variety of options. Unfortunately, most of the colleges who spam me are private, expensive schools. But enough of my rambling.

Praise is appreciated and constructive criticism is encouraged.

-The_Mayflower