Crossfire

Blackened Roses, Part 2

The smell of rubber and leather was overwhelming in the little hole-in-the-wall bondage store. Various items and gear hung from the rafters, and the walls were lined with masks, suits, fake hooves, bizarre costumes, and other paraphernalia. Sable actually covered her nose when she entered, but Jack had seen worse things than a pony fetish store.

A mare with a black-skull cutie mark and sunken eyes approached them. “Hi! Welcome to the Buck Boutique, specializing in…”

“Save it,” Jack interrupted, flipping open his badge. “I’m Detective Jack Hoover and this is Detective Sable. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Oh, um…okay.”

“For starters, do you keep purchase records?”

“Of course,” the mare replied.

“Alright. How many of your…erm…specialty apparel items have you sold in the past month?”

“Well, I don’t keep track of that. I mean…”

“You run this whole place by yourself?” Sable cut in.

She shook her head. “The other guy, Slick, couldn’t come into work today. Called in and said he had the trots. Sounded awful.”

Jack made a mental note to get Slick’s personal information, then continued. “We’re investigating a murder, and we believe the killer may have purchased an item from this store that was involved in the murder.”

“What?!” the mare exclaimed, backing up.

“Easy, easy,” Sable said soothingly. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Angie.”

“Well, we need to see the purchase records. Do you have close-circuited TV in here?”

Angie shook her head again, and Jack sighed. “Then, we’ll go the long way. If you’d be so kind as to retrieve the purchase records.”

She nodded and sped off, and a minute later she was back, holding a file between her dirty teeth. Jack took it and opened it, examining the contents.

“You sell bondage suits, correct?”

“Yes. Male, female, pegasus, unicorn, inflatable, straitjacket…”

“How many of these ponies bought one of your suits?” Sable asked, and Angie looked thoughtful.

“Ummm…let’s see, he wanted the inflatable…also wanted a ball head and a whip…nice guy…she was only looking for a corset, I’ve seen her before down on Red Street…oh!”

“What?” the detectives said simultaneously.

“There was this guy…yeah, called himself Sphincter…he was a very rude unicorn…”

“Unicorn?” Sable piped up. “How was he rude?”

“Well, he wanted to buy a rubbersuit but didn’t have enough bits to accommodate the horn portion. I told him he could just purchase a regular earth pony suit, but he refused. We got into an argument, but he eventually bought the earth pony suit and left.”

“Did he pay with bits or credit?”

“Bits. But by law you have to submit your ID in order to purchase from here.”

“Do you have a receipt of his ID?” Jack said hopefully.

“I think so. Hold on…” She ducked behind the counter, and sounds of rummaging could be heard. Jack turned to Sable with a stupid grin on his face, but she was unsettled by all the latex and leather that lay around her.

“Aha!” Angie exclaimed, holding up a piece of paper. “Here it is!”

She gave it to Jack, who read it over:

Purchaser Name: Sphincter

Species: Unicorn

Item: 1-0029X Full-Rubber

Price: 299 Bits

ID Check: Positive

Purchaser DOB: 1/23

Purchaser Place of Residence: 224 Hoofington Avenue, Keyluck Apts., Floor 15, Room 9

“Does that help?”

Jack looked at Sable, who smiled. “Yes, I believe this helps us very much.”

\*\*\*\

While I’d expected the reception at Equestria City to be…well, fancy…I hadn’t expected for things to turn out the way they did.

After the cab dropped us off in front of the mansion Twilight buzzed us in. Because of the attack on President Freemane, security had been raised for both him and his opponents, and I caught sight of musclebound gun-toters at nearly every corner. Once inside, however, the guards blended in with the crowd of partygoers, and I felt very alone even in a sea of ponies.

Twilight led me by the hoof to join her brother and the Princess. When Shining Armor saw us, he gave a low yelp of joy.

“Twili! Ah, so good t’see you, little sis!”

“Hi, Shining Armor! Great party! Hi, Cadance!”

The princess smiled. “Always a pleasure, Twilight. And who is your friend?”

I tried to look away, but Twilight pulled me closer. “This is my good friend Scootaloo. She was one of your flower fillies, remember?”

“Ah, yes, I seem to remember one filly in particular who found wearing a dress to be quite…how did she put it? Uncool.”

Everypony laughed, and I blushed. But it was true. Dresses weren’t my thing.

“Well, gotta say, you’ve grown up, Scootaloo,” Shining Armor said, taking a sip of cider. “What are you up to nowadays?”

“Um…well, I joined the Manehattan Police Force…”

“Really?!” said a pony to my left, and I recognized him as Rook Bishop, son of Shining Armor and Princess Cadance. Despite all the attack ads by Freemane on TV, in person, Bishop didn’t seem like a bad guy. He’d inherited his father’s long cobalt mane and snowy-white skin, but everything else, including his personality, was his mother’s. He smiled genuinely as he shook my hoof.

“Splendid! Here to protect me as well, are you? I say, with a mare like you around I hardly think any wrongdoer would even attempt to ruin this evening…”

His tone was pompous, the voice of a Canterlot elite, but he seemed nice enough. Shining Armor and Twilight started up a conversation, and Princess Cadance went to greet other guests. I was alone with Rook Bishop.

“…have special ties with the MHPD, I must say. Of course, our relations with them were slightly soured after the Hoover incident…”

I broke out of my bored trance. “Wait. What? Hoover incident?”

“Oh yes!” Bishop exclaimed. “See, a fellow by the name of Jonathan Hoover, called Jack by his peers, was a member of the Canterlot Guard before Titus Freemane came to be. Hoover was a top-notch guardspony, my father always said…”

“Talking about Hoover, eh?” Shining Armor cut in as Twilight smiled. “Yeah, I remember him. Good pony. Good guard. Except…”

“Except what?”

“Well, just after the Royal Guard fell under conversion to the New Age Initiative, you know, that law requiring the use of firearms in the Royal Guard…well, there was one guard in particular that refused to carry a gun, preferring the old ways of a spear and armor. This guard happened to be the personal bodyguard of Senator Blueblood.”

I gasped. Senator Blueblood? But…

“Wasn’t he assassinated, like, last year?”

Yeah. He was. I remembered hearing about it at the marehouse. Shining Armor nodded.

“Yes. You all know it well. Blueblood was leaving Hotel Equestria when he was shot by an extremist. Two other ponies were killed in the gunfire, and the ambassador for the Changelings was paralyzed so that he couldn’t shapeshift anymore. Well, not only did we lose a good senator, but we lost the initiative in the Changeling Conflict, which you know led to…”

“The War for Change,” I finished, recalling the seven-week conflict that had been splashed all over the news. I still remember the horrifying images of ponies and Changelings with guns, killing each other with bombs, and using tanks against each other…

“But…you’re saying…”

“Yes. That day was Jack Hoover’s last day as a Royal Guard. He blamed himself for the senator’s death and for the conflict that arose as a result of it. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Scootaloo has!” Twilight said, oblivious of my discomfort. “She’s working with him?”

“Working?” Bishop chimed in pompously. “You mean Hoover is with the police force?”

“Uhm…well, sort of…he’s a detective with the MIA.”

“Manehattan Investigative Agency?”

I nodded. Shining Armor’s face went blank. “Well…give him our regards, would you, Scootaloo, when you go back to Manehattan?”

“Of course,” I responded politely. Shining Armor gave me a courteous nod.

“Excuse me. Shining Armor?”

“Yes?” Shining Armor turned around to meet…

Shining Armor.

“Queen Chrysalis says hello.”

BLAM.

/*/*/*/

The apartments on Hoofington Avenue were the highlight of the Underzone. If there was a hell, this would probably constitute hell in Equestria. Jack and Sable pulled up in their car just outside Sphincter’s apartment building.

As Jack stepped out of the car, a shot rang out. Then another. Something plinked off the hood of his vehicle.

They were being shot at.

“Motherbucker!” Jack cried as Sable drew her gun and took cover behind the car. He also drew his pistol and did a quick sweep to determine the position of the shooter.

There, up in the fifteenth floor, approximately. A flash. BOOM. The ground snapped up next to his hooves. It could only be Sphincter.

“This is Detective Sable, we are taking fire at 224 Hoofington Avenue! Repeat, shots fired! Shots fired!”

Jack pulled a spare clip from his jacket pocket as he felt something snap past the hood of his sweatshirt. But as soon as he popped up from behind the car, gun ready, the shooting had stopped. He looked up. Nothing was in the open window on the fifteenth floor.

“Son of a parasprite! He’s running!”

“The stairs in the apartment!”

Jack nodded, and the two galloped through the doors of the apartment building. Upon entering the graffiti-adorned lobby, they noticed that the elevators were broken and that there were two staircases.

“You take left. I’ll take right,” Jack said. Sable nodded.

It would be one of the worst mistakes in his career.

Jack burst through the door, keeping his Brigadier pointed at the top of the stairs, listening for hooves on asphalt. When he did hear the noise of somepony coming down the steps, he aimed and waited for a moment.

A pegasus appeared.

“FREEZE! HOOVES ON YOUR HEAD! GET ON THE GROUND!”

“OKAY! OKAY!” the pegasus cried, laying down on the ground. “Geez, for the love of Celestia, don’t shoot!”

“Get out of here,” Jack said swiftly, allowing the pegasus to pass him by.

Then he heard another shot. Muffled, as though through a wall.

Sable.

With adrenaline kicking in, he raced back down the steps, knocking over the pegasus he’d almost shot, and entered the other stairwell just in time to see a unicorn with a gun jump out a window.

Another unicorn was slowly tumbling down the stairs, blood oozing from her flank.

“SABLE!” Jack screamed, running over to her and checking her pulse. The wound looked bad, but she was breathing. Taking her radio, Jack called for an RA unit and proceeded to jump out the window.

He hadn’t realized he’d been on the third floor when he jumped, and when he landed he felt as though he had broken his legs. Recovering quickly, Jack saw Sphincter running down the alleyway. He had a clear shot.

He raised his gun.

Then the radio crackled to life.

“…all units, all units, be advised, lock protocol is now underway, we have reports of an assassination attempt in Equestria City…”

Jack froze. Memories came rushing back.

…Blueblood, in his trademark white suit, leaving the hotel after a good breakfast…

…Jack Hoover, dressed in old Guard uniform, spear at the ready, looking ridiculous compared to the macho stallions with mane-cuts and sleeveless T-shirts under which their muscles bulged…

…a car, its rear window fully lowered…

…a hoof sticking out. Grasped in the hoof is a fully automatic Ungulate 300…

…Blueblood, his trademark white suit now red from blood…

Crash.

Jack returned to his senses when he realized that Sphincter had jumped the fence. Cursing himself, he galloped after the unicorn, smashing through the iron fence and nearly breaking his shoulder doing so.

He had just enough time to witness the unicorn relieve a stallion of his car and speed off. He talked into his own radio.

“Base, this is Hoover, report disregard for lock protocol, armed suspect fleeing the scene of a shooting at 224 Hoofington Avenue, get me some buckin’ backup and show me in pursuit!”

With that, and without waiting for a response, Jack jumped into his bullet-riddled car and sped off after the shooter, cursing himself over and over for not pulling the trigger.

\*\*\*\

One inch.

One more inch and Shining Armor would have been a dead pony.

The bullet instead struck his cider glass, sending shards anywhere, and continued past his ears until it buried itself in the wall of the mansion.

Before I could come to my senses, the shooter was gone. I hadn’t even seen him. Twilight and Cadance were screaming, and Rook Bishop was motioning for a guardspony. Shining Armor seemed to be fine with only a few nicks from flying glass.

Then I saw it.

A flash of black and green in the rear of the mansion.

A Changeling. Queen Chrysalis…

I beat my wings until I was hovering over the panicky crowd and dashed through the open doorway into the Equestrian night.

The assassin had a car waiting for him, and as I watched it sped off down the spiraling entranceway of Shining Mansion. I hadn’t flown in years, so there was no way I could have caught up to them with only my wings.

But then I saw a beauty of a machine sitting all alone in the parking lot. A chrome-plated F2 Lightning 900, one of the fastest motorbikes in Equestria.

I smiled. Though I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ridden a scooter, they didn’t call me Scootaloo for nothing.

I flew down to the bike and proceeded to hotwire it, remembering the tips I’d learned from my time on the streets. The engine roared to life, and in spite of the situation I could not help but feel a little giddy.

The assassin and his driver had crashed into the gate, knocking it down slightly, and were preparing to ram it again as the driveway guards opened fire. I couldn’t reach them in time.

So I improvised. Seeing a small partition on the edge of the elevated parking lot, I gunned the engine and let the wind do the rest.

Before I knew it, I was flying. Not with my wings, but with the bike. Dim lights grew below me, and I hit the ground with such force that I nearly fell off. Struggling to maintain my balance, I hit the brake until I smelled burnt rubber, then gunned the engine again. By now the assassins had crashed through the gate and were barreling down the EQC Highway. Growling, I sped after them.

Only then did I realize that I had no bucking clue what I would do once I caught up to them. My cutie mark was a gun, all right, but I had no gun. What was I gonna do, drive by and politely ask the assassin to slow down?

I kept driving, dodging traffic and other obstacles as the battered car raced ahead.

The chase went on for about an hour until we reached the EQC-Manehattan Expressway, which led to the Trinket Tunnel, the shortest pathway from Equestria City to Manehattan. The assassin took a hard left and, suddenly, found himself facing oncoming traffic.

Very stupidly, I followed him into the tunnel.

Now the only things I could see were the lights of the cars that were barreling towards me. Wishing that my cutie mark had been a bike and not a gun, I swerved and dodged as the assassin hugged the left side of the tunnel, trying to avoid hitting any cars. I knew I’d caused a minor pileup, and pretty soon I could hear sirens.

Sirens coming right toward us…

At the last moment, a tire exploded on the assassin’s car, and he swerved into the middle lane, on a collision course with a speeding roadster…

WHAM!

The impact was incredible, but I only had a second to view it before the wreckage of the roadster careened towards me. Taking a leap of faith, I jumped from the bike and flapped my wings harder than ever.

I suppose if I was being judged I’d get an A for effort, but an F for follow-through. The crashing cars missed me, but I still slammed face-first into the asphalt, sliding and bouncing a couple hundred feet before finally rolling to a stop amidst a scene of chaos.

Oh, bucking Celestia, the pain. OOOH…

It was painful.

Very, very painful.

Smoke began to fill the tunnel, and I could just barely make out the lights of the police cars through the haze. Fire and debris were scattered across the tunnel, and as I picked myself up, reeling with pain, I saw a dark shape detach itself from the wreckage of one of the cars.

The smoke cleared for a moment, and I could make out a sleeveless leather jacket over a gray hoodie…

“Jack!” I screamed, happy though in extreme pain. I limped toward him, and when he saw me he smiled. We embraced, and I began to cry from the pain.

BLAM!

I was suddenly covered in brain matter. Jack slumped in my hooves, and when I looked at him there was a bloody hole where his left eye should have been. I was about to scream, but was silenced when he suddenly morphed into a black, necrotic creature with wings and a craggy horn.

The Changeling.

I dropped its body. It lay motionless on the ground, bleeding black. Ponies were reacting to the shot, but I wasn’t. I was just looking for him, looking for…

He still had the gun pointed, his eyes hard and his face bloody. He must have hit the railing after the cars had collided. But it was him. The jacket. The hoodie. The straight brown mane.

Jack Hoover.

He saw me, and I saw him, and suddenly he was running towards me, calling my name. At that moment, however, the pain finally shut my body down. I drifted into unconsciousness, but I had one last thought and one last vision before darkness overtook me.

My last thought was Man, for a gun-hater, he can really shoot.

My last vision was of his gray eyes and bloody face standing over me, saying my name over and over.

Then darkness. Unconsciousness.

Night night.