Prometheus: Awakening

Chapters

Ch.1-The City of Hidden Sins
Ch.2-Haunted
Ch.3-Questions, But No Answers
Ch.4-Mornin'
Ch.5-Keep Your Head Down
Ch.6-The Golden Ticket
Ch.7-Complications
Ch.8-The Search Continues
Ch.9-Deals, Dillemmas, and One Drunk-Ass Redneck
Ch.10-Operation Goodman (Part 1)
Ch.11-Operation Goodman (Part 2)
Ch.12-Freedom
Ch.13-No Rest for the Wicked
Ch.14-Black and White
Ch.15-A Casual Late-Night Vegas Drive
Ch.16-Frankenstein's Monster (Part 1-Creation)
Ch.17-Frankenstein's Monster (Part 2-Rampage)
Ch.18-Frankenstein's Monster (Part 3-Confrontation)
Ch.19-Frankenstein's Monster (Part 4-Disappearance)
Ch.20-The Patriot
Ch.21-My Enemy, My Ally
Ch.22-Count On It
Ch.23-New Developments
Ch.24-Monster
Ch.25-When in Doubt...
Ch.26-Action and Consequence
Ch.27-Skeeter Pledges Sobriety
Ch.28-Disturbance
Ch.29-Snowball
Ch.30-Tumble
Ch.31-Avalanche
Ch.32-Swept Away
Ch.33-Silence
Ch.34-A Losing Hand

Ch.1-The City of Hidden Sins

Las Vegas; famous for its bright lights, big casinos, and expensive atmosphere.

Some come to test their luck and strike it rich in the casino, though these people often leave with more disappointment in their hearts than money in their wallets. Others walk around aimlessly and take in the sights, the many flashing signs and occasional fountain displays never failing to mesmerize. Still others come to attend live performances by some of their favorite artists, mostly singers and illusionists.

For some, this metropolis is a beautiful oasis in an otherwise desolate sand pit.

For others, however, it’s the site of a power struggle that has raged for decades.

There is an underground society of kingpins, thugs, thieves, and mercenaries. Blood is constantly spilled as warring factions fight for dominance in one of the wealthiest cities in America, no faction ever gaining more than a few inches of ground before the chips turn in another’s favor. A small percentage of this society remains neutral, never taking a side in the never-ending conflict and instead feeding off of it.

Money, power, sadistic pleasure…all of these are reasons people involve themselves in the dark happenings of the underground.

Then there are the very select few who don’t have a choice.

This story begins with one of those select few, on the night when his life began to rapidly spin out of his control.

((((((*******))))))

White staggered out of the open double doors, following two of his four bodyguards while the other two held the doors open for him.

“Kroger? Buddy? You-hiccup-you look fantastic tonight.” he said to one of the guards holding the doors.

“Thank you, sir.” responded Kroger. He then proceeded to grab his charge gently by the arm and escort him to the curb to wait for the valet to bring the limo around. He continued to support the man in the white tuxedo as he began to look around.

“Heeeeyyyy...where’s Janey? She missed out on all the-hiccup-fun.”

“Ms. Wilde went to get your ride, sir.” Kroger replied.

“Such a sweet, sweet lady…” White thought out loud. “She deserves a-hiccup-raise. She works too hard.”

“I’m sure the casino staff would agree if you put it to them.” Kroger suggested.

Eli squinted in thought for a minute. “Yeah…yeah. I think-hiccup-I’ll do that. Tomorrow. When I’m-hiccup-sober.”

“Hold your breath, sir.”

“Yeah, good idea. Good idea.” he muttered before complying.

Kroger shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. Though his boss might have a habit of hitting the bottle too hard, he enjoyed working for him. Appreciation for hard work aside, White was one of the last honest tycoons left in the city. He could haggle, argue, and shout over most anyone in the city; but in the ten years they'd known each other he'd never resorted to filthy under-the-table nonsense to get his way.

Which, unfortunately, made him a target for the people that did. Which was why Kroger tapped his foot anxiously whenever they stood out in the open like this.

What is taking that woman so long? he thought impatiently. She should have been here when we left.

Anxious as he was, he looked down in surprise at the sound of his charge chuckling quietly. Said charge noticed his senior guard’s questioning look.

“You want to hear a joke Kroger?”

Kroger got the feeling the joke he was about to be told would have all the comedy of keys being jingled in his face, as was typical of White’s drunk jokes. However, he shrugged and did his best to play along.

“Alright. So…a guy goes to the movies, right? He sits down, ready to watch the movie. A few moments later a pig sits down right next to him and he stares at it like…”

Kroger zoned out as he pretended to be amused, silently wondering if there was ever a time when this joke had actually been funny. Well, I guess anything’s funny when you’re drunk.

“…to which the pig replies, ‘Well, I liked the-’”

He was interrupted by a sniper round passing through his head, painting the sidewalk behind him red.

“OH SHIT!!” Kroger yelled. “TAKE COVER! CALL AN AMBULANCE!”

One of his men slid behind a car and began punching numbers into his phone, leaving the other three to drag the rather pudgy man behind the safety of a nearby car. While two of them stood up and aimed handguns up and down the street, Kroger pulled off his suit jacket and began the seemingly futile endeavor of trying to keep the blood in his employer’s head. He looked up to find one of his men staring at him in confusion and scowled heavily.

“What!? Do you have a better idea!?” he growled, then in a more authoritative tone, “Did anyone see where that shot came from?”

“Negative.”

“No, sir.”

“Shit.” he repeated. “Connelly, when’s that ambulance getting here?”

On a rooftop six blocks away, a shady figure lowered his rifle to inspect the grisly scene he had created.

“And people wonder why honesty is such a rare commodity here.” Allen said as he turned away, unscrewing the silencer. He packed the rifle and silencer inside the timeworn guitar case next to him, clasped it shut, and swung it onto his back. “Sorry White. Nothing personal.”

With that he turned and ran towards the edge of the building, slowing just enough to catch the service ladder and slide down to ground level. He landed in the alleyway below with a brief stumble and resumed running, gray scarf flowing behind him. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the scene of the crime when the cops showed up. He’d have a lot of explaining to do if they stopped him, even more if they searched his person or the guitar case currently on his back.

Running slowed to jogging after a few minutes, then to walking as he lowered the scarf from his face and adjusted the fedora atop his head. He looked behind him briefly to ensure he wasn’t being followed, then faced forward and stuck his hands in his pockets. He was now a guitar performer at some backstreet bar that nobody had ever heard of, just trying to get home to his crappy house in South.

He definitely hadn’t just killed one of the richest men in Vegas.

((((((*******))))))

Twilight slowly woke up, groaning as she did so.

“Well, that definitely didn’t go as planned.” she said, taking a glance at the shimmering ring of white runes in front of her. “I guess I calibrated the Breach wroooooh my goodness...”

The first thing she noticed was that she was no longer a pony. Instead, she’d turned into some kind of bipedal creature with almost no fur and more clothes than she had ever worn in her entire life.

“What in Equestria…?” she said to herself.

She got up and attempted to walk, discovering to her relief that she had absolutely no trouble whatsoever.

“Oh good.” she said, sparing the runes another glance. “I was worried a thousand years might have been too long.”

She looked around and noticed the shattered remains of a mirror not far away from where she’d awoken. She picked up one of the larger pieces and examined her face. It was slightly flatter than it had been before she’d gone through and, like the rest of her body, lacked any fur. She was even missing her horn, which made her even more uneasy.

Her mane and eyes hadn’t changed at all, though. Twilight took comfort in the fact that there were at least two things about her that were still the same.

She abruptly snapped back to the matter at hand. “Come on Twilight. Stop admiring yourself in the mirror and get busy. You don’t have long.” she said to herself, beginning to explore her surroundings.

She’d awoken in a dark alleyway, the only source of light coming from a fire burning in a barrel a short distance away. Trash littered the ground, and the walls were covered in strange symbols. They looked like letters organized in strange patterns, but apart from that she had no idea what they could possibly mean. There were also strange sounds coming from another path to her left, like something big was flying past.

Finding nothing else noteworthy, she picked up the pad and paper that she’d dropped after landing and proceeded down the alleyway toward the noise.

What she saw upon rounding the corner was absolutely breathtaking.

Huge signs emblazoned with colorful lights were everywhere, and the buildings they belonged to towered above her. She could have sworn a few of them surpassed even Canterlot in height. The source of the rushing noises was the occasional large metal contraption moving up and down the street, humming as it went past. Everywhere she looked, there was more to be seen. More lights, more buildings, more crazy contraptions. Twilight began to wish she had five more pairs of eyes.

“This is…wow!”

It had taken her months to figure out the relic discovered by Star Swirl so many centuries ago. Months of frustration and, more often than not, pain. There were many who believed it couldn’t be done, including her mentor. Still, she had persevered, and now she could appreciate the fruits of her labor.

“Enjoying the view, I take it?”

Twilight looked to her right and saw another of the creatures approaching her. He was dressed in a yellow jacket and a baggier, more worn-out looking version of the denim article she now wore. He gave her a friendly smile, which she returned.

“It’s amazing.” she replied, to which the stranger nodded in agreement.

“I sometimes wish I could just grab a lawn chair and a cold one, set up right here, and drink in the majesty of it.” he told her. “Yeah…Vegas at night is Vegas at her finest.”

“Vegas?” Twilight asked, not understanding.

He looked at her quizzically. “Yeah, Las Vegas? You know, the city we’re currently standing in?”

Twilight laughed embarrassedly. “Sorry, I’m…uh…I’m not from around here.”

“I can tell.” he replied. “For one, you sound way too nice.”

“Too…nice?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yeah.” said a new voice to her left. “Also, anyone from around here would know enough not to go wandering around alone, especially after dark.”

The grey-maned newcomer wore the same basic attire as the man Twilight had been talking to. However, he appeared to be heavier in build and was holding a baseball bat in a manner that unsettled her. She looked to her right, only to find the good-natured man she’d been talking to stalking towards her with a knife. They slowly started backing her into the alleyway she’d just come out of.

“How much green you think she’s wearin’?” The large one asked his companion.

“I think we’re about to find out, Baird.” replied the shorter one.

Twilight's panic was growing. “Why are you doing this?” she asked shakily.

“It’s nothing personal, sweetheart. A man’s gotta eat, is all.” the one called Baird answered. “Now do me a solid and hold still, will ya?”

Suddenly the shorter one feinted a lunge with the knife. Twilight turned to face him, but the real danger came from Baird and his baseball bat. It was a tactic the two goons had used on countless people; one that was one-hundred percent guaranteed to incapacitate the average victim so that they could mug the unfortunate soul with little to no issue.

Unfortunately for all three of them, Twilight was not the average victim.

Before the bat came within a foot of her, she shrieked and sent both men flying back with a pulse of pink energy. They landed hard on the concrete a couple meters away with two loud ‘oofs’.

She stared for a moment, not sure how she’d managed that without her horn. She quickly decided not to question it, however, and ran as her attackers began to stir.

The first to speak was Baird. “Jase, what the hell just happened?” he asked as he sat up, rubbing his head.

Jase didn’t respond. Baird looked over, thinking his friend to be unconscious. What he saw instead made him slightly nervous.

Jase’s nose was crooked and bloody from their target’s defense, and he had a maniacal look in his eye as he suddenly took off after her.

I’m getting too old for this. Baird thought as he got to his feet and ran after him.

((((((*******))))))

What were you thinking, White? Not paying back money someone lent you is one of the fastest ways into a coffin in this city.

White had recently opened an opera theatre, the funding for such a project having come from some rather…questionable…sources. The theatre had been thriving for close to a month now, but for some odd reason White had placed budget priority on things to keep the theatre afloat rather than repaying his creditors.

Which was incredibly stupid for someone as experienced in the Vegas economy as White.

Unusually stupid.

Allen suddenly felt that his definition of “questionable” could use a little refinement.

He was dragged out of his thoughts as he caught sight of a beautiful ’69 Mach 1, waiting patiently for his return.

“Hey there gorgeous. Miss me?” he said with a small smile. Naturally, the car remained silent.

“You too, huh? Don’t worry sweetheart, we’re going home right now.”

He stuck the case in the back seat and was about to get in and drive off, pausing only when he heard a loud clang come from a nearby alleyway. He stared at the offending alley for a moment, then shrugged. It was probably just some stray animal, and quite honestly he was too tired to care. He’d been up for the past two days tracking White down, and he was tired beyond tired.

He got in the car, shut the door, and leaned his head back with a sigh. Then he shook himself awake and started searching for his keys. “C’mon, just a little longer.” he said to himself.

He rolled down his window, hoping some fresh air might keep him awake long enough to get home. He was just about to start the car when he heard another clang from the same alleyway as before.

He stopped and listened intently once more, wondering why on earth that alleyway was so noisy tonight. He strained his ears for another sound, and finally heard something he had not expected to hear tonight.

Another clang, closely accompanied by a scream.

“Dammit.” he said as he shot out of the car and bolted down the alleyway.

As he ran, he was conscious of the silenced pistol and dagger strapped to his person. Since he rarely got into any close confrontations, these two weapons were all he carried around.

That’s fine. I won’t need anything else.

Probably.

((((((*******))))))

Twilight was by no means an athlete, owing to years of holing herself up in her study. So it came as no surprise when she saw one of her pursuers quickly gaining on her. She was barely five meters away from him, which was close enough for her to tell that he was well and truly after her blood.

Even so, Twilight was confident that he could outrun him; because while her opponent definitely had the upper hand in terms of cardio, Twilight made up for her poor physical conditioning with outstanding magical talent.

She sent a burst of energy at his feet, with the apparent intent of tripping him. He easily jumped over it, but was helpless to dodge the surprise second burst that caught him midair in the upper body region, effectively clothes-lining him and sending him flying into the side of a dumpster. Seeing her attacker sprawled on the ground once again urged Twilight to keep going.

Jase sat up with a groan, then glared angrily at the girl as she continued to retreat. He got to his feet again and dialed a number in his phone as he resumed pursuit. “Frank! Are you still at the bar?” he panted.

Twilight’s mind raced as she tried to work out a plan. If she could knock her pursuer down again, maybe she could double back and reach the Breach in time to reopen it and escape back to her dimension. Then, next time she did something like this, she’d be sure to bring-

PANG

Her mind got no further as a pipe swung out and met her forehead, knocking her to the ground.

She tried to stand back up and continue running, a task made extremely difficult by the fact that she couldn’t tell which way was up. Come on Twilight, before he catches up!

But by the time her dizziness began to subside and she was able to stand up, it was already too late.

“Jase, what’s-”

“Shut up, Frank!” yelled Jase.

And that was all Twilight heard before her right leg exploded in agony, tearing a pained scream from her lips. She felt herself being hauled up and dragged before suddenly being tossed against a wall, which only added to the intense pain she now felt.

She looked up and could just barely see Jase, standing over her like some predatory animal with Frank's pipe in one hand and his knife in the other, blood seeping from his nose. He was staring at her with almost psychotic intensity, which only seemed to grow as he dropped the pipe and raised his knife to slash her open. She squinted as she tried to use her magic to defend herself, panicking even more when nothing happened.

Luckily for her, at that same moment, Baird caught up to them and grabbed Jase’s wrist.

“Jase, this is going way too fucking far!” he yelled as he also grabbed Jase by the back of the neck.

“GET THE HELL OFF ME!!”

There was a moment’s struggle, and then Jase managed a hard elbow to Baird’s ribs. As the giant fell to his knees, Jase approached Twilight, knife glinting ominously in the low light of the alleyway. He kneeled down and pressed the blade against her throat.

“Please,” Twilight begged, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks. “Don’t do this.”

“The world will thank me for this.” Jase said, maniacal eyes fixated on her. “The world will be better off without that voodoo shit, princess.”

Twilight shut her eyes tight, preparing for the end. Her family, Princess Celestia, her friends…tears began to flow freely as she realized she’d never be able to see any of them again. She wouldn’t even get to say goodbye.

She was going to die in this dark, filthy alleyway, and her only company would be her crazed executioner and his friends.

“Good b-”

PING

Twilight opened her eyes slightly as she felt the knife suddenly leave her neck. She started as she saw Jase lying a few feet away, groaning. His friends stared slack-jawed for a moment at his unconscious form before shifting their gaze upward. She followed their gaze and found what held their attention.

Another figure stood close to where Jase had been a moment ago. He was dressed in a long black coat, matching hat, and a grey scarf which covered his face. In his hand he held another, slightly longer, knife. His stance was calm, and he spoke to them in an equally calm voice.

“Good evening, gentlemen.”

Author's Note

Hope you enjoyed! This is my first story, so criticism is both welcomed and appreciated!
Remember to click that thumbs-up if you enjoyed and leave me a comment with your thoughts!
Thanks! :twilightsmile:
Also, in case you're wondering what a Mach 1 is:

Nothin' like good ol' fashion American muscle.

Ch.2-Haunted

Frank raised an eyebrow at the newcomer as he opened his pocket knife. “Is that who I think it is?”

“Yup. The Ghost of Las Vegas.” he burly man replied, tightening his grip on his weapon. “Honestly thought he’d be taller.”

“I get that a lot.” the man said dismissively. “Sorry, but can we move this along? I’m on the clock at the moment.”

“Cops?”

“Yeah. So you guys should probably go, too…unless you want to be caught flying your colors.”

“On the contrary, my friend. The cops ain’t gonna care what we’re wearing if we hand your scrawny ass over to them.”

“Hmm…sounds risky.”

“Worth it, though. Or haven’t you heard how big the price on your head has gotten since that incident at the bank?”

“Goodman can tack on all the zeroes he wants. He’ll never catch me.”

“Whatever you say kid.” Baird said before charging at him. Frank stayed back, content to wait until the stranger had his back turned so he could take him by surprise.

He was caught off guard, however, as said stranger rolled under Baird’s wild swing and attacked him first. He barely managed to duck under the elbow aimed at his head, allowing the Ghost to completely pass by him. Then he pivoted and aimed a slash at his opponent’s back, only to have his arm grabbed and painfully forced behind his back, his knife clattering to the ground.

He heard Baird roar as he prepared to take another swing at the Ghost. “Get him, man!” he yelled encouragingly.

Suddenly, he howled in pain as the dagger sank into his thigh, then panicked as he felt his attacker disappear. “Wait, wait, wait-!”

PANG

Baird stepped back in shock as Frank hit the ground, unconscious. “Shit!”

“Nice aim, slugger.” Ghost said, Frank’s knife ringing against his own as he proceeded to applaud him mockingly.

The clapping stopped, however, as he jumped out of the way of a diagonal swing from Baird and slashed at his exposed side. He grunted in pain, but otherwise ignored the light gash and swung again, horizontally this time. The other man simply ducked under the bat, rushed forward, and slammed the pocket knife into his leg.

As the bruiser howled in pain, Allen spun and drove the brass pommel of his knife into the back of his head. The man fell to the ground, but continued to struggle.

“Oh, for the love of God! Just stay DOWN!” he yelled, emphasizing the last word as the knife pommel met the base of the other man’s skull and he finally fell still.

“Thank you! Geeez…” he muttered as he sheathed the knife and turned his attention to the victim.

She’d gone unconscious while he’d been busy with the three stooges, which didn’t surprise him in the slightest given her injuries. Her head was already beginning to swell and her right leg was bent awkwardly, obviously broken. There was also a small cut on her neck from the first man’s knife, but it didn’t look to be too bad.

“Nothing a quick trip to the hospital can’t fix.” he thought out loud as he made to exit the disgusting alleyway, sleep once more taking a position at the front of his mind.

Then he stopped, listening.

The sound of distant sirens came to him, still miles away. He spun around to look at the girl seated against the wall, unmoving.

He turned to look towards the alley’s exit, then back to the girl on the wall, then looked down and sighed. “Fuck my life.”

He walked back and picked her up, muttering an apology as she groaned in agony at the sudden movement before once again walking towards the exit.

He quickened his pace as the sirens in the distance grew louder. “Wow, you guys are late. I must’ve whacked poor White like…what…twenty minutes ago?”

He reached his car and quickly deposited the girl in the passenger seat before circling around and getting in himself. He started the engine, then paused with wide eyes as he saw two cruisers roll by in his rear-view mirror. He waited for a full minute to see if they were going to double back then, finally deciding they hadn’t noticed him, put the car in drive and headed for the hospital.

Another groan sounded from his right. “Hang in there, lady.” he said tiredly. “I’ll have you in an ER in no time.”

For the next few minutes, Allen navigated the streets of Vegas with precision born of years of dodging thugs and police alike. The cops were searching every back alley and side street in the district for anything suspicious, not realizing that the guilty party was actually casually rolling down the main street. That was how the LVPD operated: if you weren’t acting like a suspect, then you probably weren’t one.

Before long, the hospital came into view and Allen began to turn into the front lot, only to turn back onto the main street with a small screech of his tires.

An ambulance sat in front of the hospital’s double doors with its lights flashing, MTs carrying a man in a blood-stained white tuxedo out of the back on a stretcher. The ambulance itself was surrounded by patrol cars, their occupants guarding the front door to the building. One of them shone a flashlight in his direction, making him instinctively duck down a little.

“Shit.” Allen swore under his breath. He knew the girl needed medical attention, but he wasn’t willing to risk getting arrested for her. “Well, I guess you’re not going to the hospital then. Not today, anyway.”

He turned down another street, heading for his house now. He kept a fully stocked medical kit in his bathroom, and not just the simple modern family kit for everyday cuts and bug bites. His kit covered injuries ranging from said cuts and bites to broken bones and major gashes, and even contained antidotes to commonly used poisons. It certainly saved him from having to register himself at a hospital.

Gotta remember to thank Arnie again. he thought distantly.

Suddenly, police lights started flashing behind him.

He began to panic, then forced himself to calm down. You’re innocent. You’re innocent. Just remember that you’re innocent. he thought as he gently came to a stop. He watched as the cop did the same, got out, and started towards him; all the while trying to think of a good cover story. Naturally, he had a stock excuse for situations like this; but that story didn’t cover the unconscious girl in the passenger seat, so he’d have to think of a new one, fast.

There was a knock on his window, and he promptly rolled it down. “Good evening, officer. Is there a problem?” he asked cheerfully, right before realizing who he was talking to.

“Hey buddy!” said the officer, just as cheerfully.

“Oh, hey Mr. Sully!” Oh, thank Christ it’s you.

Sully had been a close friend of Allen’s stepfather before he died, and since then he’d been like an uncle to Allen. A fact he was quick to exploit as he shut the engine off. “Busy night?”

“You could say that.” the older man said with a tired sigh. “You know Eli White, right?”

“Yeah. Rich guy. Opened an opera theatre recently. What happened to him?” Allen asked, feigning ignorance as best as he could.

“Take a wild guess.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, it’s a…it’s a real doozy.” said the officer with a cringe, casually leaning on the roof of the car and looking at him a little more seriously. “Look, I’m sure you had nothing to do with it, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t ask why you’re out so late.”

“We’re coming home from the bar.” Allen replied, gesturing toward the girl in the passenger seat. “Also, before you breath-test me, I’m sober.”

“Don’t worry, I can tell.” Sully said with a chuckle. “But what happened to her?”

“She got drunk, lost her balance, and knocked herself out on the counter. That wouldn’t have been my issue, except that her ‘designated driver’ got drunk and passed out in a booth.” he said in feigned annoyance. “And, of course the rest of her friends were either drunk or can’t drive even when they’re sober.”

Sully shook his head. “That’s sad. Which bar is it?”

“You know where Pablo’s is?”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll keep an eye on those kids.” he said, then asked as an afterthought. “Hey, why does it seem like you’re always the designated driver?”

“Well, I am only nineteen.” Allen replied innocently.

Sully raised a brow, conveying to the smartass in the driver’s seat an unspoken request to actually answer the question.

Allen chuckled, then looked back at the officer with a sad smile. “You know I’ve had practice with Skeeter.”

“True. Poor kid…”

“Probably the only person in this city with a genuine excuse for being drunk all the time.” Allen agreed.

Sully nodded sadly, then stood up. “Well, I won’t keep you anymore.”

“Yeah, I better get her to my house and get a pack of veggies on her forehead. She’s going to have a long-ass day tomorrow.”

“Give her my condolences.” the gray-haired officer said, walking away.

“It was nice talking to you Mr. Sully!” Allen called.

“Likewise! Have a good rest of your evening! Take care of yourself!”

“You too! Don’t work too hard!”

With that, Allen re-started the car and resumed his journey home. He silently thanked whatever powers that were that the old man hadn’t questioned the presence of an instrument case in his back seat.

((((((*******))))))

It took another fifteen minutes for Allen to get home. Naturally, the farther he got from the scene of White’s assassination, the easier it was to avoid the police until he finally reached the southern district.

He always felt safer whenever he entered the southern district, and not just because of the slight decrease in gang activity in the area. Officially, the surveillance systems for the district had suffered a catastrophic malfunction and were beyond repair. Only Allen and his boss knew that they had been intentionally disabled, specifically for the purpose of providing a place for him to hide.

Sometimes it was a good thing to work for one of the most powerful people in Vegas.

Sometimes.

He soon pulled into the weed-covered driveway of an old two-story house. The blue paint was faded and chipped, there were a few shingles missing from the roof, and the lawn and beds were overgrown and overrun by weeds. As he pulled in, he also could’ve sworn he saw a striped tail disappear under the porch, and silently prayed that whatever creature it belonged to didn’t have rabies.

All in all, it was an ugly little shack. But it was home.

Allen shut off the engine and got out, circling around and retrieving the girl and his rifle case before heading to the front door. He managed to find his house key and unlock the door despite his burden, then proceeded to deposit the girl on the couch and locked the door behind him. Sighing, he went downstairs and laid the case down on the worktable in the basement before heading to the bathroom upstairs and grabbing the med kit.

As he came back downstairs, he checked the box’s contents to make sure he had everything he needed. “Anesthetic, alcohol, cotton balls, gauze, 3-0, bandages…okay, good.” he muttered.

He pushed the coffee table out of the way and knelt down next to the makeshift hospital bed, setting the case down nearby and extracting a small pre-prepared syringe. He then exposed the broken leg and injected the numbing agent into the affected region, the patient giving another pained groan as he did so.

He got up and walked into the kitchen while he waited for the drug to take effect, retrieving a small bag of frozen vegetables out of the freezer. He came back and laid the bag over her swollen forehead, then returned to his prior position by the med kit and gave the break an experimental flick. He smiled when she didn’t react.

“I love anesthetic.” he said to himself.

The bones appeared to be merely split, a fact for which Allen was thankful. If they’d been totally shattered, he would’ve been there for a long time trying to fit all of the pieces back together properly, and he didn’t have enough anesthetic for that…or enough skill to perform an operation of that delicacy. The break also hadn’t penetrated the skin, which eliminated any possibility of infection. All he had to worry about was making sure that the leg was straight as it began to heal.

For the next few minutes, he worked the leg back into its proper position, doing his best not to puncture or pinch anything in the process. When he felt satisfied with its appearance, he wrapped the area tightly with bandages to prevent the bones drifting out of place again. He stood up to scrutinize his handiwork, giving the leg a few flicks. The anesthetic had almost worn off by now, meaning she would’ve groaned painfully again if he hadn’t done his job right.

Her only reaction was to shift slightly away from him, and he smiled triumphantly. “Who needs a medical license anyway…” he muttered as he turned his attention to the cut on her neck, quickly cleaned and bandaged it, and then packed everything back into the box. His job done, he went upstairs and took a shower to remove the night’s grime and tensions.

He came back downstairs, still combing the water out of the shaggy brown mat on his head, and turned on the TV. As he flipped over to the ten o’ clock news, he also dialed a number into his phone and held it to his ear, listening to tonight’s biggest headline.

“…casino where millionaire theatre owner Eli White was brutally murdered just over an hour ago. Doctors are working to do what they can, but the lead surgeon has already called the operation a lost cause, given the sheer size of the wound and the amount of blood lost. Police have named the culprit as the infamous Ghost of Las Vegas, due to the fact that the bullet retrieved from the scene was bare of any distinguishing features or fingerprints and therefore impossible to trace back to the manufacturer. This is not the…”

Suddenly the dial tone ended and an artificially deepened voice answered. “Admin.”

“Channel thirteen.” Allen said simply.

He waited patiently as his boss found the specified channel and read the headline.

“Nice work. I’ll wire your cut to your bank account and get back to you on Wednesday.”

“Wow, two whole days off? You’re so generous.” Allen replied sarcastically.

The Administrator paused. “What crawled up your ass?”

“I’ve been awake for forty-eight hours straight locating a man so I could blow his brains all over the sidewalk. Pardon me if I sound a little cranky.”

“Just make sure that’s all I hear out of you.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll put another hit on you.”

Six months ago, Allen had made the mistake of refusing a job from the Administrator, who had responded by painting a fifty-thousand dollar target on his forehead and broadcasting his location. He’d been forced to run all over Vegas for three whole days, hiding in every nook and cranny he could find, before his boss had called him back to “renegotiate” the terms of his contract.

Physically, he’d managed to survive the ordeal with minimal injury. However, he was now unable to sleep unless he had his revolver on hand, and had also taken to sleeping in the armchair in the living room rather than his own bed.

Allen growled in annoyance. “Fine. Just for the record though, you pay me to do my job. You can’t pay me to like it.”

“Noted.”

“Goodbye.” Allen answered before hanging up.

He went into the kitchen and sat his phone on the counter, then retrieved a bottle of brandy, ice, and a glass and made himself a drink. He only drank after a successful assassination, in an attempt to ease his conscious. It was a personal rule of his that kept him from going insane with guilt while at the same time preventing him from turning into an alcoholic wreck like his best friend.

He walked back into the living room and flipped the channel to see if he could find anything to take his mind off tonight.

“Our top story tonight, the millionaire murder-“ Next.

“-died shortly after admission. Guards were helpless to-“ Moving on.

“-better pray, because when I get my hands on them, I’m gonna-” COME ON.

“-wanna add a few dashes of cinnamon to give it that little kick, ya’ know?”

Allen paused for a moment, then shrugged and took a sip of brandy. He probably wouldn’t find anything better and, quite frankly, he had nothing against cooking shows. And that cake did look pretty good…

“We interrupt this program to give you a shocking news update. Millionaire theater owner Eli White has-“

“Screw this.” Allen growled, switching off the TV. “The universe just won’t let up, will it?” Only silence answered him.

He went back into the kitchen, angrily downing the rest of the brandy on the way, and dropped the cup in the sink. Then he went around the house, checked all the doors and windows to make sure they were locked tight, and finally picked the revolver up off of the coffee table. Then he settled into his recliner and waited for sleep to take him. He didn’t have to wait long for the weight of the past few days to begin closing his eyes.

Before nodding off, he cast a glance at his new house guest.

“What the hell were you thinking, going off on your own in Vegas?” he asked her quietly. Naturally, she didn’t answer.

He shrugged wearily and leaned back in the chair. Within just a few minutes, he was sound asleep.

Author's Note

Hope your enjoying so far!
Be sure to leave a like if you did enjoy, and follow me for more content and important story updates, as well as the occasional concept picture.
Also, keep in mind that criticism is welcomed and appreciated. Why? Because I'm not perfect and I won't pretend that I am.
Thanks everyone! :twilightsmile:

Ch.3-Questions, But No Answers

Equestria

“What do you mean she never made it back!?” Shining Armor asked none-too-calmly.

He’d been eating lunch with a few of his friends when Spike had come bursting into the mess hall; babbling about Twilight, teleportation, another universe, and a breach in something. Shortly after the drake’s rather confusing report of events (and giving him a paper bag), a private had burst in and given him a more refined version of what had happened.

Needless to say, he hadn’t taken the news well.

Said private continued trying to calm down her hysterical captain. “Exactly that sir. Princess Celestia has requested your immediate presence in Twilight’s study, along with as many unicorns as you can round up in the next five minutes. I believe her majesty has a plan for rescuing Miss Sparkle.”

“Did she give you any details?”

“No, sir.”

Shining sighed and nodded his understanding, slightly less panicky now that he knew they at least had a plan. “Alright. Everypony spread out and spread the word. Unicorns and earth ponies scour the castle, pegasi check the grounds. You have five minutes.”

“Yes, sir!” was the collective response before everypony galloped or flew off to their assigned search areas, leaving Spike and Shining alone in the mess hall.

“Didn’t she abandon that project?” the stallion asked.

“Yeah, and for a long time I heard nothing about it.” Spike replied. “Then, we were hanging around in the study one day and she was reading and she suddenly went ‘of course!’ and before I know it I’m jotting down a bunch of random numbers while she rotates the rings on the Breach.”

“And…I’m just finding out about this why?”

“She was worried you’d think it was too dangerous and try to stop her.”

“Why would I-” Shining stopped and thought for a second. “Okay, so maybe I would have. But you’ve got to admit, I had a good reason.”

“That’s what I said!” Spike replied heatedly. “I kept trying to tell her this was a bad idea, but she wouldn’t listen!”

Shining sighed. For one of the most gifted unicorns in Equestria, his sister could be really dumb sometimes.

“Come on.” he told Spike. “Let’s go find out how her majesty plans on bringing her home.”

((((((*******))))))

Spike waited anxiously on the upper level of the study with Shining Armor and his parents, watching as unicorn after unicorn trotted into the room, all of them confused about the purpose of their summons.

“Come on, come on, hurry up…” he said quietly.

He still couldn’t understand why he’d let Twilight go through the Breach. He’d told her that he thought it was a bad idea, but he hadn’t done anything else to stop her. She’d told him not to worry right before she went through, so he’d done his best not to. Instead, he’d sat and waited patiently for her safe return.

For ten minutes, he'd just waited.

After ten minutes, he'd begun pacing nervously.

Then, after half an hour of no activity, the portal had closed and cut off any hope that she would return in the next few minutes…and Spike had finally decided he could start worrying again.

Two hundred-meter dashes and two unintelligible strings of random words later, he was waiting on the upper landing of the study, anxiously tapping his claws together as Shining directed the arriving troops and castle staff downstairs toward where the Breach sat waiting. His parents, Night Light and Twilight Velvet, sat over by Twilight’s desk. The former was in the middle of keeping the latter from having a mental breakdown, and Spike couldn’t help feeling guilty as he continued to stare at the lower levels.

“I should’ve done something to stop her.” he said out loud.

Night Light heard him, walked over, and laid a comforting hoof on his shoulder. The drake turned and looked at him sadly.

“This isn’t your fault, okay? You know as well as I do that when Twilight has a ‘moment’, nopony can stand in her way.”

“If you say so.” he replied, remaining unconvinced. He then returned to watching the lower level, shaking his head at the rather small group that had accumulated in the past five minutes. “Is this seriously everypony they could find!?”

“Most of the troops are out overseeing the preparations for the Summer Sun celebration.” Shining said calmly. “Plus, they did only have five minutes.”

Spike sighed heavily. “Well then, I hope it’s enough for whatever the princess has planned.”

“That makes two of us, Spike.”

The whole family turned to face the source of the newest voice, and immediately bowed to the slender white alicorn that approached them.

“Now, now…this is no time for formalities. We have work to do.” said Celestia

No sooner had they risen than Shining addressed her. “Forgive my forwardness your majesty, but I’ve been very anxious to know the details of the plan you’ve come up with for rescuing Twilight.”

Spike nodded vigorously. “Yeah, what do we do? Do you have some kind of enchantment for reopening the Breach, or are you going to use some ancient artifact…what’s the plan?”

Celestia sighed as she prepared for the disappointed looks she was about to receive. Then she looked them in the eyes and told them her plan, putting as much faith behind her words as she could.

“The plan is to use a basic energy transfer spell to reenergize the Breach and hopefully force it back open. Captain, you will then lead a rescue party through to the other universe, deal with whatever kept Twilight from returning on time, and bring her back home.”

All four of them stared blankly at her for a long time. The silence she received as an answer made her almost wish that they’d start screaming at her about how terrible that plan was. Instead, they responded quite calmly.

“That’s it?” Spike asked, disappointment layering his voice.

“Your plan is to pump the Breach full of energy and just…hope for the best?” Velvet asked disbelievingly. “With all due respect, please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m afraid not.” Celestia replied. “My knowledge of the Breach gate’s mechanics isn’t as broad as Twilight’s. Without any further information, this is our best option.”

Spike and Shining sighed in unison, and Velvet appeared to be on the verge of fainting, which made her feel even worse about her lack of understanding. “I’m sorry. I wish I were more prepared for this.”

“We all could have done something differently.” said Night Light, everypony turning to listen. “But that doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done and no amount of worry or self-deprecation will change anything. The best thing we can do now is go through with the only plan we have, and hope it works.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Velvet asked.

“Then we’ll work to find one that does.” said Shining.

Velvet looked at each of them in turn, her husband sharing her son’s look of determination while Spike held one of doubt. Finally deciding that hysterics weren’t going to save her daughter, she took a deep breath and put on the most confident smile she could manage.

“Then let us not waste any more time.” Celestia said, starting toward the stairs.

“Yes.” Velvet agreed, taking a deep shuddering breath. “Standing around won’t bring my daughter home so I can ground her for the next month.”

Night Light glanced at her as they went down the stairs. “You do know that we technically can’t do that, right?”

“Says who?” Velvet retorted. “I don’t care how old she is. She’s in a lot of trouble for making me worry like this.”

Her husband shook his head and smiled. Well, at least she’s not panicking anymore.

Celestia and Shining Armor followed close behind, while Spike stayed on the landing to watch as they all took their positions at the front of the congregation.

Celestia faced all of the ponies gathered in the small study and raised her wings for silence, which came almost instantly. Only when the last whisper had been hushed down did she speak.

“We haven’t much time, so I’ll skip the pleasantries and get right to the point.” she began, lowering her wings. “As some of you might know, Twilight Sparkle has been researching an ancient artifact known as the Breach gate, which possesses the ability to transport the user into other universes. About an hour ago, she succeeded in opening the gate and traveling to another universe. However, she has yet to return.”

There were a few stray whispers from alarmed ponies in the crowd, which quickly silenced themselves as Celestia spread her wings again.

“Anypony who knows Twilight knows it isn’t like her to be late. Our best chance at bringing her home safely is by using a basic energy transfer spell to reactivate the Breach and, hopefully, force it back open. Should we succeed, Captain Shining Armor will lead a rescue team through the gate to deal with whatever kept her from reaching the return portal in time and bring her home safely. Any questions?”

The entire congregation remained silent, waiting for her next order.

“Then let’s not waste any more time.” Celestia said as she turned toward the Breach and ignited her horn. “Everypony aim for the small lock on the bottom and fire when ready!”

Celestia’s beam hit first, followed closely by the Sparkle family’s beams. Slowly at first, but faster as everypony finished charging their horns, more beams began feeding the lock. More and more appeared until there were about fifty unicorns feeding the Breach.

Spike watched the Breach intently from the upper landing, jumping to his feet as he saw the runes on the rings and the spaces between the door panels glow pure white, just as they had before Twilight had opened it.

It’s working! It’s actually working! he thought excitedly.

THUNK

Suddenly, the beams vanished and everypony was blown back several feet, landing either on their rumps or on their backs. Even Spike, who was nowhere near the Breach, toppled over backwards from the force of the blast. He quickly got back up to survey the gate, only to groan in frustration as it grew dark once more.

Shining sat up with a groan. “Uuuugh…well…that went well.”

“Truth be told, that went about how I expected it to.” Celestia agreed as she stood up.

“So what now?” Night Light asked as he helped his wife up.

“Now…we need to work on understanding the Breach so we can figure out how to open it, since obviously we went about it in the wrong fashion.”

“But how? Where do we even start?” Velvet asked despairingly. “If we start from scratch like she did, she could be stuck there for months!”

“We might have to.” Shining said sadly.

“Or we could just look through her notes.” said Spike, who’d joined the group while everypony else had been talking.

Suddenly, all eyes were on him.

“What?” he asked, slightly uncomfortable with the new amount of attention he was receiving.

“Do you know where the notes are?” asked Celestia.

“Of course! Right this way…” he said enthusiastically, now heading back upstairs with the princess and his adoptive family close behind.

He jogged over to Twilight’s many bookshelves and propped the ladder against the far right side. He then climbed up to a section halfway up the case and started tossing various binders down to the ponies below.

“You think she took enough notes?” Night Light asked Velvet jokingly as he caught the fifteenth binder.

“To be fair, interdimensional physics must be quite a broad subject.” Velvet answered matter-of-factly.

After tossing thirty-two fully stocked binders, Spike finally slid down the ladder and dusted his claws off as he rejoined the group.

“This will take some time to look through.” Celestia mused.

“Look at the bright side: we’re not starting at square one.” Night Light said, to which Shining nodded.

“We should take it in shifts to search the binders for anything pertaining to opening the gate.” Velvet advised.

“Unfortunately, we won’t all be available all the time.” her husband countered. “Princess Celestia has a country to run, Shining’s got an army to run, and you and I still have jobs.”

“I’m sure my editors will understand me taking a leave of absence, especially once I tell them the circumstances.” she replied.

“But you can’t do it by yourself, honey. You need help.”

“We could always get Moondancer. She studies as much as Twilight, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind lending an extra hoof.”

Once again, all eyes turned to the purple dragon, who slightly cringed under their unwavering gaze.

“What?”

“Buddy, you are on fire today.” Shining said with a grin.

Spike grinned and took a bow.

“Then it’s settled. Spike, go find Moondancer so that we can assign shifts. Captain, you may return to your post. I’m going to go dismiss these ponies.”

As everypony went their separate ways, Spike turned to Shining. “I hope we get her back.”

“Don’t worry Spike, we will.” Shining replied as he walked away.

Night Light raised a brow as he passed. “You don’t sound too sure of that.” he said quietly so Spike wouldn’t hear.

Shining took a moment to glance back at the drake, who was now organizing the binders on the desk. “I have no doubts that we’ll get her back. I’m just worried about what condition she’ll be in when she gets home.”

((((((*******))))))

Washington D.C.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, pick up already…” Myles whispered anxiously as he listened to the dial tone. “Hurry up dammit! Before it disappears!”

Finally, the dial tone ended and a groggy voice answered. “Hello Myles. Why are you waking me up this late? Early? Whatever?”

“Mike, put your glasses on and get to your computer! Now!”

He listened to the sudden flurry of activity on the other end as his partner woke himself and his computer up and slapped on his glasses.

“Alright, I’m here.” said a much more awake-sounding Simmons. “What’ve you got for me?”

“Sending…now.” replied Myles as his fingers danced across his keyboard.

For a long moment the other end of the line was silent as Simmons watched the satellite feed his computer junkie of a best friend had sent him.

“Myles, is this live?” he asked.

“You bet it is.”

“Then get Remus on the line. He needs to know about this.”

There was a moment’s delay as Myles connected their boss to the call. The dial tone had barely started before the line was answered.

“This had better be good. You know you aren’t supposed to call me unless it could be a threat to national security.”

“This is important, sir. I assure you.” Myles replied. “There’s been a prolonged break in the Earth’s EM field that started about ten minutes ago and has been there ever since. Agent Simmons has the live satellite feed, so he can confirm. This is the longest EM break in recorded history.”

“Wait, you’ve known about this for ten minutes and I’m just finding out about it? Why?” asked Simmons.

“I’ve been trying to get you guys a definite location of the source using a government satellite, but every time I try to focus in on it-”

“-it starts screwing with the satellite.” Remus finished.

The line was silent for a moment before Simmons spoke up. “Sir?”

“This isn’t the first time this has happened. It’s happened one other time, and the consequences were so terrible that all involved were sworn to secrecy under penalty of death.”

“What happened?”

“I’m not at liberty to tell you anything else, except that it is of utmost importance that we deal with this before it becomes a national threat.”

“Sir, with all due respect; if we’re going to deal with anything, we need to know what it is first.”

Remus was silent for a moment, then he sighed.

“The first thing you need to understand is that everything you’ve ever heard regarding the multiverse theory is…well, it’s true. There really are an infinite number of universes, all home to a completely unique set of circumstances. But all the theories you’ve ever heard have glazed over one important fact.”

“Which is?” inquired Myles.

“Our universe, Terris, is not at the center of this vast web. It also isn’t the only universe capable of having such an impact. There are six other ‘parent’ universes capable of creating other ‘child’ universes. The only one with the means of bridging the gap between us, however, is Ethis.”

“What ‘means’ of transportation could possibly bring them over here, to our universe?” Simmons asked, awestruck.

“The source of the EM field break is called a Breach, an interdimensional portal connected via network to every other universe in existence. The first time it was activated, I was visited by a bearded man in a robe who, to my great surprise, was shocked to discover that he was human.”

“What happened to him?” Myles asked.

“At first, he seemed peaceful enough. He was more interested in learning about Terris than anything else for the first few hours. Then…and to this day I still cannot understand why…he went on a rampage. He ran back towards the Breach’s last known location, firing all manner of unearthly energies from his hands, even succeeding in killing a man before he was finally put down.”

“How have we heard nothing about this?” Simmons asked, bewildered.

“Obviously, me and the boys did a good job cleaning up.” Rufus replied.

“This is un-frickin-real.” Myles said simply.

“I wish.” Remus said sadly. “I hope that you now understand why we need to wrap this up, and do so quietly. We can’t risk letting whatever psychopath that portal spat out run free, but we also want to avoid a panic. Mr. Avalon, do you at least have a general location of the break?”

Myles zoomed in as far as he could with the satellite before it began flickering.

“It seems to be centered in Southern Nevada.” he replied.

“Alright. Agent Simmons, I’m handing you control of three of the CIAs best squads as well as requisitions clearance for any equipment you think you’ll need to track down whatever came through the Breach. Mr. Avalon, you will stand by for technical support. And gentlemen?”

“Yes sir?” they responded simultaneously.

“I cannot stress enough the importance of this operation remaining covert. Can I count on you to see this through without being detected?”

“Of course, sir.” Simmons answered for both of them.

“Good to hear. Simmons, I haven’t forgotten your request for my recommendation for the presidential Cabinet. If you pull this off without a hitch, you’ll get that recommendation. Guarenteed.”

He gasped audibly. For the past two years he’d been trying to get into the president’s most trusted inner circle of advisors, where he believed his administrative skills would be better employed and he’d be able to do more good for his country. He was fully eligible, except that the recommendations he had didn’t carry enough weight. But if Remus, a former Cabinet member himself, recommended him; that spot was as good as his.

Myles chuckled. “Sir, I believe you’ve made Agent Simmons soil himself.”

“And you’re next Avalon. You remember that request for additional funding you sent me?”

“Yes. Wait, are you actually-”

“Do you remember how much it was?” Remus interjected.

“Yes…why?”

“Double it.”

Simmons heard Myles squeak over the line and sniggered. “Now who’s soiling themselves?”

Suddenly, voices could be heard in the background. Remus cleared his throat.

“Alright sweetie, I’m gonna have to let you go. The wolves are back.” He paused and pretended his wife was talking to him. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you too, hon. Bye.”

Myles cackled like a hyena after Remus hung up. “Good bye, honeybunches!” he said in a high-pitched, girly voice. “Oh God...”

Simmons wasn’t listening, however. He was too busy punching the air in triumph.

Author's Note

Hope you're enjoying so far! :twilightsmile:
Be sure to leave a comment with your thoughts and give me a thumbs-up if you enjoyed. Also, as always, criticism is both welcomed and appreciated.
Thank you and have a wonderful day!

Ch.4-Mornin'

“I still can’t believe it’s only been another year.” said Allen’s stepfather, shaking his head.

“You say that like you’re the one who just finished fighting through his sophomore year.” his mother joked.

“What can I say? The sooner he’s finished with high school and working with me and the boys, the happier we’ll all be.” he replied through a mouthful of roast beef. “You know how hard it is to find a partner you can trust nowadays? Everyone’s either being bought off or b-”

“Not at the dinner table, sweetheart.” his mother curtly interjected.

“Right, sorry.”

“It’s gonna be so cool!” Logan piped up. “You two are going to be like the Batman and Nightwing of Las Vegas!”

His stepfather raised an eyebrow quizically. “Don’t you mean Batman and Robin?”

“No. Robin’s kind of a wimp.”

Both parents stared at him for a moment. “Wow.” they said in unison.

“Hey, I call it as I see it.” Logan said with a shrug. Then he turned to Allen. “Hey, speaking of the Dark Knight, they’re making another Batman movie! It’s going to have Scarecrow and Ras al Ghul working together! You wanna see it when it comes out?”

Allen just sat there, staring at each of them in turn.

They sat there, staring back in confusion.

“Uhhhh…Earth to Allen?” said his stepfather.

“Are you alright, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Logan flicked his ear, bringing him out of his stupor.

“No. I’m seeing three.” he finally replied.

His stepdad looked around the kitchen, then back at him. “What…us?”

“Yeah you! You’re all supposed to be dead!”

“Allen, sweetie, what are you talking about?”

He stood up in his frustration. “I heard the gunfire! I saw what was left of the house! You guys were…” he stopped. That thought still made him slightly nauseous.

They just stared at him blankly, like he was speaking a foreign language. He stared back, confused.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked them.

He stopped as he heard the sound of tires screeching outside.

He spun around and stared at the front window in horror. “Oh no…”

“What’s wrong Allen?” Logan asked.

He turned back to his family. “Get in the basement! Move, dammit! MOVE!”

“You know you’re not supposed to talk like that in this house.” his mother replied sternly.

“What the-”

He was interrupted by the hail of bullets that began tearing through the kitchen, and immediately dropped to the floor to avoid them. He looked back up at his family, still calmly seated around the table.

“GET DOWN!!” he yelled desperately, but it was no use. One by one, they burst into clouds of black smoke as the bullets found their respective marks.

The gunfire stopped as quickly as it had begun.

Allen stood up as he stared at the table where his family had been seated just seconds before. “This isn’t happening…”

Suddenly, he heard the sound of a hammer being pulled back behind him, and his horror turned to boiling rage.

He knew who it was. It was the one responsible for Allen’s current situation.

He turned and charged at the man in the suit, the pocket knife raised to strike. The other man simply smiled and pulled the trigger.

Allen bolted upright in the arm chair, aiming the revolver wildly around the room. Then he let it fall back to his side as he himself fell back against the chair.

“Dammit.” he said simply.

It was still there. Four years and it was still fresh in his mind. Like a stain on the carpet, it simply refused to leave. His gaze drifted over towards the kitchen, the aforementioned stains still clear as day in his mind’s eye, then down to the revolver in his right hand.

He stared blankly at it, noting that it was fully loaded and the hammer had yet to be pulled.

Acknowledging that both could change in the space of a second.

For a whole minute, he sat thinking. Then he laid the gun down on the table in front of him, got up with a sigh, and went into the kitchen to start making coffee.

As he leaned against the counter, watching the rich dark liquid drip into the waiting coffee pot, he turned to look at his new houseguest.

Who in their right mind goes wandering around Vegas alone, especially at night? he asked himself for the second time.

He shook his head, then leaned down and grabbed another pack of frozen veggies out of the freezer. Whatever. In a few hours you’ll be the hospital’s problem, anyway. he thought as he walked over to replace the thawed pack already on her head.

He lifted the pack off of her head and promptly dropped both packs in shock.

The bruise was almost completely healed. There was a vague red area to show where it had once been, but that was it. The giant swollen area that might have been the herald of potential brain damage was gone.

He tossed the veggies back in the freezer, then went back and checked on her leg. Again, he was shocked by how fast she’d healed. Her leg had been pretty much snapped in half last night when he’d bound it up, and every shift or gentle tap before the anesthetic had been followed by a loud groan of pain. Now, as he prodded, poked, and even lightly slapped the affected area, she showed no signs of discomfort beyond moving the leg away in her sleep.

“Holy hell…”Allen said as he stood back up and looked back and forth between the bruise and the leg, trying to understand how she’d made such a miraculous recovery. Then he shook himself out of his stupor and started searching for his boots.

“Let the actual doctors worry about it.” he said to himself. Then he grabbed his phone and keys off the counter and left for the post office, grabbing his hat off of the hook before shutting the door behind him.

((((((*******))))))

Twilight woke up with a start.

The first thing she noticed was that she had a throbbing headache. She gently laid back down, trying not to aggravate the pain more than she already had, and looked around the room she now found herself in.

She appeared to be on the couch in somepony’s living room. The room itself was decently furnished, with a couch, armchair, and a coffee table. There was also another table with two strange black boxes resting on top, one larger than the other but the purpose of both escaping her. Twilight was slightly surprised to see that there were almost no wall decorations, apart from a picture hanging next to the front door which she had trouble making out.

Where in Equestria am I, and how did I get here? she thought.

She carefully tried to stand up and noticed two more things. One, she wasn’t a pony anymore. Two, there was something wrapped tightly around her right leg. She lifted the pant leg to see what it was and discovered that most of her lower leg had been bandaged, and moving it caused her a slight amount of pain.

She stared at the leg for a moment, and then everything started coming back to her. The Breach, the bandits, the chase, the pipe, the knife, and then…nothing. She supposed that was when she’d fallen unconscious.

She dug deeper, trying to remember anything that might give her a clue as to where she was right now, then remembered the fourth creature that had appeared just before she’d blacked out. Who was he? And why had he-

Suddenly, she heard the sound of the front door being unlocked. She quickly laid back down and feigned unconsciousness. While she now had a vague idea of where she was, she wasn’t ready for another confrontation with this world’s inhabitants. Not yet.

The door opened and she heard something walk in, humming to itself as it went behind her and into the kitchen. She waited for a moment after the footsteps stopped, hearing nothing else except the sound of paper. Then she lifted her head ever so slightly, deciding the stranger was occupied enough that she could risk a peek.

It was another one of the creatures from last night. He had a messy brown mane and was rather thin compared to the bandits from last night. He was also much younger than they had been, though something about him made him seem much older at the same time.

She laid her head back down as the creature turned around and opened a cupboard, extracting a mug and filling it with what she assumed was coffee. She heard him take a quick gulp, then he passed behind her and disappeared upstairs.

Her mind raced as she heard a door close upstairs. He was, without a doubt, the one who’d saved her last night. He probably knew what had happened after she’d blacked out in the alleyway. She could ask him, but felt hesitant to approach the one who’d probably taken down her assailants.

If she was going to ask him anything, she’d have to make sure she was the one in control.

((((((*******))))))

Allen came back downstairs, rubbing his now clean-shaven face, and headed back into the kitchen and re-donned his jacket. The girl’s wounds had healed miraculously fast, and that could be good news or bad as far as he was concerned. Just to be on the safe side, he was going to drop her off at the hospital so that they could make sure she was at least healing properly. The hospital staff would also be able to get in touch with whatever family she had.

For all I know, that could have been some weird strain of cancer. He thought as he stuck his now-unsilenced pistol in his jacket’s holster and turned back to retrieve the girl from his couch.

The girl, however, had other plans.

Allen only had time to turn and see his charge stand up and raise her hand before the world turned pink and he was sent flying backwards, landing against his back door with a loud grunt. In a flash, he redrew the pistol and aimed it at the doorframe.

But the girl was nowhere to be seen.

“Lady, I’m not looking for a fight, but I’m also not afraid to empty this clip into you!” he yelled as he tried to get back to his feet.

Suddenly, his vision exploded.

“GAH! WHAT THE HELL!?” he screamed as he covered his eyes in agony, feeling the gun fly out of his hand as he did so.

When his vision finally cleared, he immediately looked towards the living room, wondering why all of his furniture was pink. He then looked up and stared, his guest casually staring back from his kitchen table with her hand raised in his direction. He tried to get to his feet, only to find that he was frozen in his current position. With nothing else to do, he glared angrily at his patient-turned-captor, then raised an eyebrow when the pink overlay vanished and he could see properly again.

“I’m going to release you.” she said, obviously trying to sound more intimidating than she looked. “If you attack me, I’ll be forced to immobilize you again. Do you understand?”

“You are the world’s worst houseguest.”

“Good enough.”

Allen suddenly felt the pressure leave his body, shuddering slightly as felt himself able to move again. He looked over at the girl still calmly seated at the kitchen table, hand surrounded by a pink aura and directed at him, and casually crossed his arms and legs.

“Great. Now,” she said, relief spreading across her face. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going give me some answers. Alright?”

He gestured to her. “Ask away.”

“Where am I and how did I get here?”

“You might already remember, but last night you were attacked by three lightly armed thugs. You were beat up pretty bad and by the time I got there, you were unconscious. I took care of the thugs and had to transport you to my house,” he gestured to the area they were standing in. “for medical attention.”

“Why didn’t you transport me to a hospital instead?” she asked, suspicious.

“I was running from someone at the time, and they were waiting for me at the hospital. But you still needed help, and I have a full medical kit upstairs.”

This appeared to surprise her slightly, and she let the hand drop to her side, though he noticed that she kept the energy active.

“Well, thank you then. That was very kind of you, and I’m sorry about the rough treatment. After what happened last night, I had to make sure I had the upper hand while we talked.”

He waved off her apology. “No big deal, I completely understand. As for rough treatment, I’ve suffered much worse than being tossed across my own house.”

“That’s terrible.” she said sadly.

“Eh, fact of life in a city like this.” he said dismissively. “Can I ask you a question, though?”

“Um…sure.” Twilight said.

He gestured toward the living room door. “What in the flying fuck was that?”

She turned and looked at the door, then back at him in confusion. “What?”

“Let me try that again.” he said and instead pointed at her hand. “What in the flying fuck is that?”

She glanced quizzically at her still-glowing hand. “You’ve never seen magic before?” she asked incredulously.

He continued pointing but felt his face go blank. He sat like this for a full minute before speaking again. “Say that again?”

“You’ve…never seen magic before?” the girl repeated uncertainly, confused as to what the issue was.

A long moment of silence passed between them. Then he started getting up. She tensed, obviously unsure of what he was about to do.

He ignored this and walked past her, reaching into the cupboard above the sink and retrieving his bottle of brandy. He opened it and poured a little bit of the amber liquid into his coffee, swirled the contents and took a large gulp. Only then did he turn back to her.

“Sweetheart, there’s no such thing as magic.”

“What? That’s absurd!” she replied, a little heated.

“Look, I’ve been to a few magic shows in Vegas. It was amazing at first, but then I started learning how all of the tricks worked. It’s all trapdoors, smoke, and mirrors; that’s it.”

“Okay, so there was probably no magic in the shows you’ve been to, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist!”

“It doesn’t exist.” he echoed.

“Yes it does!” she replied heatedly, standing up. Allen’s hand tensed around the handle of his mug at the sudden movement, but she didn’t seem to notice. “If magic doesn’t exist, then how do you explain this?” She held up her still-glowing hand.

“Shall I go through my grocery list of explanations for that?” Allen asked calmly.

“Humor me.” Twilight said.

“Fine. I’ll start with the least likely. One: this isn’t the total bullshit I think it is and is actually happening.”

“Which is correct…” Twilight muttered.

“TWO: I’m high as a kite right now. I don’t do drugs and I don’t plan on starting, so that’s a no.”

“Good for you.”

“Thank you.” he replied before continuing his rant. “Three: I’m drunk. I only had one glass last night so that’s unlikely.”

“Wait, do you drink often?”

“Define often.”

Twilight opened her mouth to specify, then realized she’d much rather not get an answer to that. “You know what? Just continue.”

Allen shrugged. “Four: I’m crazy. While I doubt that, I also can’t ignore the fact that it’s a possibility.”

Twilight was suddenly apprehensive. “Anything I should be worried about?”

“I sleep with a revolver in my hand, but that’s not for house guests. Just anyone who breaks in.”

“Okay…what’s reason five?”

“And the reason I think is correct…I’m dreaming.”

Twilight stared dumbfounded at him for the longest time. “Dreaming?”

“Yup, dreaming. I’m probably going to wake up and you’ll still be passed out on the couch. Or you might not be there at a- OW!”

He grabbed his arm in pain, then glared accusingly at the girl innocently playing with a ball of pink electricity.

“Still think you’re dreaming?” she asked smugly.

“Dreaming…and starting to get rather ticked off.”

“How do you think I feel?” she said angrily. “I literally have a handful of tangible evidence to prove that I’m right, and you refuse to acknowledge it!”

“Because I know what makes sense and what doesn’t!” he replied, pointing at the energy again. “And that most definitely doesn’t make any sense!”

“Yes it does!”

“Alright, fine.” Allen said, pulling together every ounce of patience he had left. “Let’s pretend for a moment that I’m not dreaming-”

“Would you like me to shock you again, just to be sure?” she said innocently.

“Do it and I’ll knock you out with my coffee mug.” he growled. When the apparent threat had no visible effect on her, he continued. “Magic doesn’t exist on this planet, so what planet are you from, then?”

“I’m from-“ she started, then she stopped as the realization hit her. “Oh no…” she whispered, the pink energy disappearing.

Allen raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What?”

Twilight didn’t hear him. “Oh no, no, no, no, no… this is bad. This is really bad.”

“What?” asked Allen, starting to get worried. “What’s really bad?”

Twilight took a seat at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands. She took a couple deep breaths to calm herself, and only then did she speak to Allen.

“To answer your question, I’m from a place called Equestria. It’s a country mainly populated with ponies where magic is a lot more common.”

Allen looked down at the mug of brandied coffee he was holding and quietly set it on the counter. That’s it. You’re cut off.

Twilight continued. “I arrived in your world using an interdimensional portal called a Breach. Once opened, it quickly consumes the magic powering it and then shuts when it runs out. The idea was to come to your world, see a few sights, take a few notes, and then go straight back home.

Allen was starting to see where this was going. “But then you got jumped.”

She nodded. “The Breach can’t stay open for more than half an hour without a constant source of power, and that’s when it’s on standby.”

Allen crossed his arms. “So it’s shut now…”

“…and I’m trapped here.” Twilight finished sadly.

For a while, neither said anything. They just sat there thinking.

Twilight silently cursed herself for not being more prepared. She should have, at the very least, talked to Shining about this. Maybe she could have convinced him to lend one or two guards to accompany her. It was her own fault that she’d almost died last night. And it was her own fault that she’d never be able to see her family or friends ever again.

The weight of this last realization caused her to lower her head onto the table and cover it with her hands, hiding her slowly-forming tears from her host.

Allen was still trying to determine whether or not he should believe anything he’d just heard. He would have immediately had her shipped off to a mental institute for everything she’d just said, except there was no mistaking the stress in her voice and actions. Crazy or not, she clearly didn’t belong in a place like Las Vegas.

“There’s no way you can go back to where you arrived at and reopen it?” he asked, deciding to put any perceived craziness aside for now and play along.

“No.” she said shakily. “The energy powering the Breach needs to go into a conduit on the actual gate. I can’t reopen it without a place to put that energy.”

“And no one else at home knows how to operate it?”

“There’s a list of factors that made it possible for me to travel here, the most important being a full moon in both the destination universe and the one I came from. But nopony else knows that but me.”

While Allen raised an eyebrow at her odd word choice, she suddenly raised her head in realization.

“Unless Spike gives them my notes!” she said with a grin. “Then Princess Celestia can reopen the Breach as soon as it’s ready!”

Allen’s eyebrow raised even further. “Hold up, Spike and Princess…who now?”

“Princess Celestia. She’s the immortal ruler of Equestria. She’s an Alicorn, one of the most powerful beings in existence where I come from.”

Allen decided not to ask what an alicorn was. “How powerful?” he asked, liking where this was heading.

“She controls the rising and setting of the sun and moon.”

His mind locked up at that, and he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “You know what lady? You need to stop talking, or I’m gonna get a nosebleed.”

“Lady? Oh, that’s right! We haven’t properly introduced ourselves! My name is Twilight Sparkle.”

Of course it is. Allen thought to himself, but introduced himself just the same. “My name’s Allen Flynt. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise.” Twilight said with a smile, which he returned. This girl was definitely crazy, but at least she was nice.

Well, compared to any other stranger I’ve met, at least. he thought to himself. “Not to push you out or anything, but how long will it take for the Breach to open back up?”

“Our moon goes through a full cycle in approximately one week. What about yours?”

“About two.”

“Then it shouldn’t take any longer than that, I don’t think.”

“You don’t think?” Allen said uneasily. “Just how many notes do you take?”

Twilight just laughed embarrassedly. That told Allen everything.

“Oh no. Oh God. Oh shit. You’re one of those OCD smart person types, aren’t you?”

“Maybe...” Twilight replied sheepishly, rubbing her arm in discomfort.

“Sonuva…” he cursed silently before taking a deep breath. “Well, we better go to the store, because I don’t have enough food for one person, let alone two.”

“Wait…does this mean I can stay?” she asked uneasily, causing him to roll his eyes.

“Well it’s not like you have anywhere else to go, right?”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” he replied with a similar smile. “Now…since that leg’s obviously not broken anymore, you’ll need to take those bandages off. We don’t want people giving you more than a passing glance.”

“Why’s that?” Twilight asked, confused.

“I’ll explain on our way to the store.” Allen replied shortly as he went to retrieve his handgun.

“Hey, would you mind if I asked you a few questions about your world on our way there?” Twilight asked as she unwrapped the bandages.

“Uh, sure. I guess.” he replied.

“Great! First, what can you tell me about those mechanized carts that I saw last night?”

Allen paused. “You mean cars?”

He heard scratching behind him and turned to find that she had produced a pad and pencil and was quickly scribbling notes. “And how exactly do those work?”

Allen stood there for a moment, then sighed.

It’s gonna be a long two weeks.

Author's Note

Hi Twilight! :twilightsmile:
Thought I'd try lightening the mood a little bit, 'cause so far this fic has been pretty serious.
Remember to leave a comment and hit the thumbs-up if you liked it.
Peace!

Ch.5-Keep Your Head Down

Twilight sat in silence, the facts coming far too quickly for her to process all at once.

“I know it’s scary to think about-” Allen began.

“Scary? It’s horrific! How can anypony be okay with this!?”

“Most people aren’t, but that doesn’t mean they’re going to do anything about it. Anyone brave enough to try isn’t long for this world, after all.”

“Law enforcement? Military?”

“Cops are either under the gun themselves or being bought off, and this is still too isolated an issue to get the military involved, especially given the war they’re fighting overseas. There just isn’t anyone left with the guts or skills needed to make a difference.”

“Says the one who dispatched all three of my attackers last night.” she countered.

“I’m a…special case…but even I have my limits, and frankly…”

Twilight watched uncertainty cross his features as he trailed off. “What?”

“Nothing.” he replied with just the slightest amount of force, then he continued in a more level tone. “Do you understand now?”

She sighed as she turned to face the road before them, watching as it flew under the hulking machine she now sat in. “I understand, but I still can’t believe it.”

“What can’t you believe?”

“That your kind would go to such extreme lengths for access to magic, or anything for that matter. The ends don’t justify the means.”

“If more people shared your views, Vegas would be a much better place. As it is, anyone who’s tried to make things better has wound up dead in a gutter.”

Silence filled the car, and Twilight found herself running through the possible consequences of her capture. Death seemed inevitable at first, but then darker possibilities made themselves known; possibilities which included imprisonment, experimentation, forced servitude, and other fates she found even less preferable. The longer she thought about it, the wilder her imagination became and the bleaker the future seemed, and the tighter she hugged herself.

A fact that her new benefactor noticed as he pulled into his driveway. “Hey.”

She turned to look at him, and he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Relax. You couldn’t be in better hands. As long as you stick with me, you’ll be going home safe and sound in no time. Promise.”

He watched as a little of the color returned to her face, but she still didn’t sound entirely convinced as they exited the vehicle and began removing groceries from the back seat. “How am I supposed to relax with a good portion of your world’s population after me?”

“Because they aren’t.” he explained, shutting the door and locking it. “Right now, no one has any idea that you exist. It’ll stay that way as long as we don’t go advertising our presence, so rule number one: keep your head down. No magic in public, and no drawing attention to yourself in any way. If everything goes to plan, we’ll be able to send you home and no one will ever know you were here.”

“And if they do find out?” Twilight asked skeptically.

“We’ll improvise.” he said as he unlocked the front door. Sensing her lack of confidence, he continued. “Those thugs that attacked you are currently the only three people on the planet that know about your abilities, and given how one of them sounded like a mental patient I don’t think their word is going to carry much weight. If anyone else starts looking for you, I’ll have no problem persuading them to stop.”

“What happened to them? The thugs, I mean.” she asked, depositing groceries on the counter.

“Probably arrested. They were stupid enough to go around flashing their gang’s colors all over Vegas and I left them unconscious in an alleyway. I’m sure we won’t be seeing them again any time soon.”

“Great.” she said with a relieved smile. “Need any help putting these away?”

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks for bringing them in, though.”

While Allen put away groceries, Twilight wandered into the living room to search for something to occupy her time. Unfortunately, the room appeared to be bare of entertainment of any kind, and she was left to pace the room aimlessly as she waited for something to catch her attention.

The strange-looking boxes on the far table gave her a few minutes’ distraction as she pondered their purpose. She could try asking Allen, but she doubted she’d receive an answer. He had grown weary of her questioning halfway through their grocery run, politely asking her to stop after only fourteen questions about U.S. politics.

The devices quickly losing her interest, she continued her journey around the room, finally pausing by the front door to look at the picture hanging next to it. It showed a slightly younger-looking Allen in front of three other people, his family she supposed. She cocked her head in curiosity when she realized he didn’t share features with any of them, not even his mother.

Oh, except for their eyes. she corrected herself, looking into the same black pit as she glanced between the two of them.

She turned away just as she heard the fridge close in the kitchen, walking back to sit on the couch and…do absolutely nothing.

Allen walked in just in time to hear a bored raspberry escape her lips and smirked. “Having a good time?”

“Just contemplating the mysteries of the universe.” she replied sarcastically.

“I’ve learned that it treats everyone differently, and that karma is just a holy word used to justify payback.” he explained as he kicked off his boots and hung up his coat and hat.

She glanced at him with one eyebrow in the air. “Sounds like you have time to think.”

“Way too much, actually.” he replied, sitting down in the chair next to the couch and pushing a button on a device she hadn’t previously noticed. Suddenly, the larger of the two boxes flared to life, images and sounds pouring from its previously black surface. Twilight stared in wonder, the device recapturing her interest. Allen noticed her expression and snickered audibly. “I take it Equestria doesn’t have cable?”

“Cable?” she repeated in confusion. He pointed at the screen, and she nodded in understanding. “Oh. No, no we don’t.”

“I pity you.” he said with a shake of his head.

The room fell into a peaceful silence, broken only by the news broadcast coming from the television. Allen silently thanked the universe for moving on from last night’s headline, instead focusing on a recent interview with George Midas in which he once again denied any affiliation with the gang which bore his name.

“Soo…where’s your family?”

He immediately thanked his past self for putting so much work into a convincing poker face. “Uh…who?” Smooth.

“I saw them in the picture by the door. Did they go somewhere today or…” she trailed off intentionally, prompting him to answer.

“They live over in…Ohio. Other end of the country.” He prayed that she hadn’t noticed the brief pause that had been pregnant with his lie. “They moved last year, and I took the house. Worst decision I ever made.”

“Did you try moving back in with them?”

“Nah. It was time for this bird to leave the nest. I might’ve messed up, but that’s not their problem anymore. Doesn’t matter anyway, I’ll figure something out.”

Twilight nodded. “Well, you still appear to be doing pretty well for yourself. What do you do for a living?”

Please stop asking questions. “I’m in a band.”

“Really? Neat! What kind of music do you play?”

Seriously, stop. “Mostly different kinds of rock. We don’t really write our own material, just do little cover gigs for bars and maybe a house party or two. It pays the bills.” he said with a shrug, then noticed an opportunity. “By the way, if you see an old-looking guitar case sitting out somewhere, please leave it alone. I am very protective of my guitar.”

“Understood.” she said with a nod. Inwardly, he began searching for an Oscar to give himself.

“Fantastic. Now, there’s things we need to take care of, the first being your sleeping arrangements. You can have the upstairs bedroom, just let me tidy it up and move some things to the basement.”

“Wait, that isn’t your room is it?” Twilight asked, concerned.

“No…not really...” he said slowly.

She started shaking her head, disbelief evident. “I can’t just kick you out of your own bed. You’ve already done so much for me.”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand; I haven’t slept upstairs for close to six months.” Allen said, waving off her argument. Me and my fat mouth.

“Why?” she asked, puzzled.

Allen sighed. “The house was broken into six months ago. It scared the living daylights out of me and now I feel better if I’m down here where I can guard the door.”

“That’s terrible.” she said sadly, a shrug from her host her only response. “Wait…do houses in this area get broken into often?”

“Surprisingly, no. You’d think they would, considering we’re in the lower-income district. But hey, if you don’t have anything to complain about, y’know?”

“I guess you’re right.” she said.

“Of course I am. And that’s rule number two: Allen is always right. Rule number three: If Allen isn’t right, see rule number two.” he said, grinning.

Twilight couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sure thing, smart guy.”

“Great. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he continued. “I’ve got to get your room ready so we can move on to step two.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“Getting you cleaned up.” he said flatly, causing her to look down and cringe at the amount of filth she currently wore. “People might take notice of some lady who looks like she just took a nap in a dumpster.”

((((((*******))))))

“Myles, any luck cleaning up the scan from last night?”

“No Simmons, nothing yet.” Myles replied irritably. “Just like the last time you asked, and the time before that, and the time before that. When I have something for you, I will call you to let you know! Now let me work, or I’ll electrocute you with your cell phone!”

Simmons was stunned silent for a moment. “You can do that!?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Myles replied devilishly. “Would you like to find out?”

His reply came in the form of a dial tone, the link to his partner intentionally and abruptly severed. He smiled devilishly and leaned back in his chair, resuming his work on the satellite scan from the previous day. “Sucker.”

Hundreds of miles away, on a bridge overlooking a narrow waterway, Simmons stared at his phone as he tried to determine whether or not Myles had the ability or the nerve to kill him with it. He decided that while he probably wouldn’t kill him, irritating a man who could drain your bank account with the press of a button probably wasn’t a good life decision. So instead he put the device away and looked around for a distraction, since supposedly this city had many.

It took him a bare second to realize he was standing before one.

The narrow waterway he stood over opened out into a huge lake which caught the midday sunlight perfectly. He had a good view of the dam about a quarter of a mile away, which braced itself against the larger rock formations that lay on either side. The lake was dotted with a few smaller rocks, some seabirds, and even a sailboat a few hundred meters away, gliding across the calm water like a swan.

Inwardly, he wondered why he’d never come to Vegas before. It wasn’t as though the city and it’s attractions were any big secret. Maybe it was the crime rate, or perhaps his lack of skill in card games. Never mind, it was definitely the crime rate.

Midday came and went, Simmons remaining lost in the picturesque scene before him until a loud grumbling summoned him back into reality. He looked down at his gut for a moment before turning his back on the beautiful view and heading back to town to find something to eat. There had been a hotdog stand on the way to the bridge, if he remembered correctly.

He hadn’t gone more than ten feet, however, before his phone rang and flew out of his pocket. “Talk to me.” he ordered without hesitation.

“Sir, I believe we’ve located the epicenter of the anomaly.”

Simmons started jogging back to his car, hotdog nearly forgotten. “Where are you?”

((((((*******))))))

Simmons stood in the middle of an old alleyway. Aside from the extreme amount of graffiti on the walls and the overflowing dumpster, there was nothing particularly interesting about it. The six men in full containment suits seemed to disagree, however, as they continued running their devices over the walls near the aforementioned dumpster.

He turned to the officer in charge. “So what did you find?”

“The entire area, especially the small space next to that dumpster, is littered with EM scars, which are the faded remnants of breaks in the electromagnetic field. Normally, in the case of a natural break, the scars would be randomly scattered all over the place with no decipherable pattern. This time, however,” he pointed to the previously referenced area by the dumpster. “the scars have been condensed into a ring of runes located by said dumpster. There is no doubt in my mind that this is the place we’ve been searching for.”

Simmons’ confidence gave way to excitement, then skepticism. “So…what, that’s all? Any evidence that might lead us to the anomaly?”

“Unfortunately, no.” replied the officer. “All the evidence we’ve gathered so far only confirms that they were here, which…given the giant ring of alien nonsense behind me…is kind of obvious.”

Simmons sighed. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to hear when they found what they were looking for, but he found himself feeling disappointed regardless.

“Alright, give me a minute.” he said, leaving the alleyway and beginning to pace along the sidewalk, getting out his phone as he did so.

Myles groaned in irritation as his phone rang for the seventh time in the past few hours. He would have ignored it, but he knew if he did Simmons would just keep ringing.

“Like the annoying younger sibling I never had…” he muttered in annoyance as he answered. “What!?”

“Calm your tits, will you? We found the site of the break.” Simmons replied with a little heat.

He heard an unusually irritated sigh come from his partner. “Well, that’s several hours of my life I’m not getting back.”

“Sorry.” he replied, irritation quickly replaced by genuine sympathy for the man’s wasted effort.

“Meh. Was that all you called for?”

“Actually, I need you to work your magic on the city’s surveillance.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because that’s all we found. There’s no telling where they went after they landed. I was hoping you might be able to put that gigantic brain of yours to use and give me some idea of what happened.” Simmons explained, then added as an afterthought, “Also, don’t tell our boss that I told you to do this without clearance.”

“So…hack into something that I won’t have clearance to hack into for another few hours so that we can see things that no one’s told us we’re allowed to see yet?”

“Yes.”

“Can do!” the computer junkie said happily. “Put me on speaker and turn on your Wi-Fi.”

“Out of plain curiosity, why am I doing this?” he asked while he followed his partner’s instructions.

“Because it’ll make your phone a little more open to my software. I’m going to piggyback my hacks into your phone via your call signal.” he explained while he typed command after command on the keyboard. “Once I do that, I can use your phone to find a vulnerable antenna or device connected to the city network, establish myself inside said network, and then we can see if there’s anything in the area that can give us a clue about what happened last night.”

“You can do that?” Simmons said, amazed.

“How do you think I found that terrorist group bent on blowing up the capital building? I called their leader to gain access to their network, then shut down all their security measures so you and the big guns could find them.”

“Wow…you’re good.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Myles said smugly, continuing to type. Finally, he managed to break into the network running the street cameras. “There. Now let’s see what we got.”

He looked through all the cameras nearest Simmons’ position. “Huh, not much.” he said quietly to himself.

“Anything good?” asked Simmons on the other end.

“Not really. Doesn’t look like there was a living soul out last night.”

“Keep looking. There has to be something.”

Myles continued sifting through camera after camera. “Anything?” Simmons asked hopefully.

“Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing happening in any of- wait, what’s that?” Myles suddenly focused on one of the cameras, rewinded, and brought up the focus.

“What’s what?”

“There’s a car leaving the street that alleyway is on. The only car I see on the road right now.”

Simmons could barely contain himself. “Got a license plate? What does it look like?”

“Calm down, Mike.” said Myles. “I can’t see many details considering how far away it was from the camera. All I can tell for sure is that it was a vintage muscle car. It’s hard to tell what make it is, let alone what its plates say.”

“Dammit.” said Simmons. “You can’t switch to a different camera, get a better angle on it?”

“No, this is the best view I have on the best resolution my equipment can give me. The driver heads south into the more low-income portion of Vegas, and they haven’t been maintaining their cameras there.”

“Well, fuck. Alright, let me think for a moment.”

Simmons thought long and hard about all the facts that had just been presented to him. The anomaly appeared shortly before the car left that street, which meant there was a small chance that whoever was in it might have at least witnessed something. The trouble was that they’d completely vanished after leaving the scene, and he had no other leads so far. Without any other cameras to spot the strange car on, he had no idea where they could be right now.

But maybe he could figure out where they’d already been.

“Myles, bring up the Las Vegas news highlights from last night.” he said.

“Alright…may I ask why?” Myles asked, typing audible in the background.

“Whoever was in that car last night made an effort to stay out of sight. I want to know what he was hiding for, and the news might be the best place to start.”

“One second, and… done.” There was a moment’s pause. “Ouch.”

“What did you find?” inquired Simmons.

“The most unfortunate rich guy in the world.” replied Myles, who proceeded to read the news article he’d found. “‘Rich Theater Owner Assassinated’. Millionaire theater owner Eli White was brutally assassinated last night at about nine o’ clock via serious gunshot wound to the head. The triggerman, believed to be the infamous Ghost of Las Vegas, made a clean getaway. Lieutenant Eisenburg commented on this mysterious case. ‘What makes him so difficult to catch isn’t the fact that he sands off the manufacturers label and scrubs the rounds, but that we can never get a visual or any footage of him leaving the scene. The only reason we know he’s a guy is thanks to testimonies provided by the hostages of last year’s state bank heist. All surveillance within a mile of his target is shut down for exactly ten minutes…just enough time for him to cut and run.'”

“That has to be him.” said Simmons. Myles didn’t answer. Instead, he once more resumed typing. “What are you looking for now?”

“I’m hacking into the Nevada State Bank to peek at their archived security data.” Myles replied. “I want to see what you’re up against.”

“Good idea.” agreed Simmons. There was a few more seconds of typing as Myles retrieved the data and sent the feed to Simmons, a small ping informing him that it was received. “Alright, let’s meet the Ghost.” he said, Myles taking his cue to hit the play button.

The video started out like any average heist. A large group of hostages were being guarded by four heavily armed men. Four more men were patrolling the halls, and the last five were grabbing the cash and stuffing it in duffle bags.

Suddenly the feed went black.

“Uh…Myles? What’s wrong with the feed?”

“Nothing. This is exactly what was caught on camera, or rather, what wasn’t caught on camera. He must have another hacker working for him who disabled the cameras.”

“Do I see some hacker versus hacker action in the near future?”

“I hope so.” Myles said wistfully. “Hey, you want those testimonies?”

“Thrill me.”

“Basically, a hoodie ninja came in, knocked out the guards and patrols without being detected, and ran before the cops came in. Not much to go on here. Any ideas for finding him?”

“I’m going to pay L.V.P.D. a little visit. They could’ve missed something on that bullet they found last night.”

Myles sounded doubtful. “The news article said the forensics team couldn’t find fingerprints, a manufacturing company… heck, our guy even bleached the rounds so that we couldn’t find the manufacturer’s fingerprints.”

“He’s careful, there’s no doubt about that, but no one’s perfect.” Simmons said knowingly. “There’s got to be a trace left somewhere, even if it’s not on the bullet. No one can just disappear.”

“Anything you need from me?” Myles asked.

“Yeah, get the other parties over here and tell everyone to exercise extreme caution while we’re here. The Ghost could be onto us at any time, and I don’t need him getting the drop on us, too.”

“Roger that.”

“If I were you, I’d also have a guard or two to watch your back.”

“Simmons, no one knows where I live or work. Do you really think that’s necessary?”

“Yes.” replied Simmons simply. There was a brief silence.

“I’ll look into it, then. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Simmons hung up, then returned to the research group in the alleyway and walked up to the officer in charge. “Wrap things up around here, then tell everyone to find places to stay the night. We’re probably going to be here a while.”

“Yes, sir.” replied the officer, who didn’t waste a moment in relaying the orders to everyone else. Simmons went back to his car.

“Now, let’s go find that bullet.”

Author's Note

Hope you're enjoying the fic so far! Let me know what you think about it in the comments below, and also don't forget to hit that like button.
Thanks guys! :twilightsmile:

Ch.6-The Golden Ticket

Twilight was practically skipping in excitement as they walked toward the glass doors of the public library. Allen glanced around nervously, worried that his new companion’s antics would attract unwanted attention. “Hey Twi? Not to kill your buzz or anything, but could you tone down the giddy schoolgirl act?”

“Right, sorry.” she said sheepishly, though still grinning like she’d just won the lottery. “Learning about another culture firsthand is…interesting…but there’s no substitute for a well-stocked library. By the way, I hope you don’t mind staying for a few hours.”

“I don’t have any plans today.” he replied with a shrug, his voice immediately dropping in volume as they entered the building. “I actually used to spend a lot of time here back in the day, even when I wasn’t in school. Still do, in fact.”

She looked at him in surprise. “You didn’t strike me as the type to enjoy reading.”

“I do occasionally, but that’s not the only reason for coming here. I mostly come here for the peace and quiet…and also the indoor coffee place that gives discounts when you show them your library card.” he added with a grin, making her roll her eyes. “The crime rate around this place is actually the lowest in the city, believe it or not.”

“Really? I mean, I know it’s a library, but why the big difference?”

“Two reasons. One…and don’t ask me how this happened…this place has become some kind of holy ground. If you even raise a fist around here, you will be targeted by the community. There isn’t any actual mandate on the issue; it was just some kind of unspoken consensus among the people who live here. There’s only ever been one fight here, and it was ended pretty quickly.”

“By the community?”

“Nope.” he said, jerking a thumb to the right. “By reason number two.”

Twilight looked right and felt her jaw go slack. Leaning against the wall by the librarian’s desk was a man that dwarfed even Baird in size. He was completely bald, of a much darker complexion than Allen, and bore a large scar over his right eye, said eye now rendered useless. It was a sight that would have been all the more terrifying had it not been for the book that held his attention and the happy tears rolling down his face, attention unwavering even as they approached the desk.

“Hey Robbie, what’s that?” Allen asked.

Robbie looked over to find the source of the voice, smiling when he saw him and raising the book so he could see the title.

“Huh. I didn’t think you were into romance.”

The larger man nodded briefly, then looked past Allen to frown at the newcomer with the pink fringe, who hid behind her companion with a small squeak.

“My cousin from out of town.” he explained. “Don’t worry, she’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

Robbie simply nodded again and returned to his book, smile and tears returning within seconds.

“He was arrested for three counts of murder, but got a reduced sentence because it was technically self-defense.” Allen explained as they walked away from the desk. “He was practically a time bomb when he finally got out of prison, so they sent him here to perform community service. I guess he liked the atmosphere, because he asked if he could work security.”

“Is he…dangerous?” Twilight asked, still eying the giant cautiously.

“Only if you disturb the peace. He’s a pretty cool guy, never says much and spends most of his time reading…but hell hath no fury like he does when you start a fight in his library.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t come here for a fight.”

“Amen, sister.” he replied before turning towards a counter on the far wall. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get my coffee.”

Twilight was left to comb through the library’s many bookshelves, grabbing book after book and making a mental note of where she’d found each one so she could replace them later. She also made sure her selections covered as many topics as possible, ranging from history and social studies to anatomy and modern science. By the time she finished, her collection of books was taller than she was, the table she’d set them on creaking slightly in protest.

Allen returned just as she opened the first one and stopped, staring. She noticed this and stared back, blinking twice in confusion.

“Hey Twi?”

“Yes?”

“You’re funny.”

“Um…thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

They continued their impromptu staring contest for a moment longer, then Allen took a seat on the other side of the table, Twilight shaking her head in dismissal and returning to her book. Allen watched for a while, smirking in amusement at the fortress of reading material surrounding her, before growing bored and looking around for something else to occupy his time.

Kinda slow today. he thought as he sipped at his drink, enjoying the near-perfect silence. Normally, the place would be packed with high school students cramming for whatever quiz or test was coming up. Today must have been a holiday, however, as the only people there besides him and Twilight were diehard bookworms like her and caffeine enthusiasts like him. And, of course, the ever-present Robbie.

Eventually, he looked back at the bookshelf behind him, frowning slightly as he took note of the rather broad selection of paperbacks adorning the space. He scanned the cover of each one, his eyes suddenly lighting up as he recognized one of the titles and leaned his chair back to grab it. He righted himself a second later and gave the mystery novel in his grasp a closer inspection. “Study in Scarlet. Man, the titles really don’t give anything away, do they?” he muttered as he opened to the first page.

An hour, then two passed in silence, he counting clues while she steadily filled her notebook. Any outside observer might have found the scene almost comical, her upright posture and unwavering concentration a stark contrast to his slouched position on the table, head in one hand and book in the other. It wasn’t until almost noon that Twilight finally set her pencil down, flexing the discomfort out of her fingers.

“I might have passed physics if I’d had that kind of focus.” Allen remarked.

“How do you fail physics?” she asked incredulously.

“You take a nap.” he replied with a chuckle.

“That’s not funny.” she said with a frown. “Your parents must’ve been furious.”

If she’d been paying any less attention, she might have missed the brief change in his expression. It wasn’t one that she could readily identify, and it was gone before she could give it more scrutiny.

“You…could say that.” he said simply, taking a sip of his now-cold drink.

Deciding her observation warranted investigation, she set her hands on top of her book. “What are they like? You don’t talk about them much.”

Allen smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Not so fast, lady. Questions about the universe I can handle; but if you want any more dirt on me, then you’re going to have to give me some on you.”

“Such as?”

“You can start with yourself and your family.”

Twilight stared at him suspiciously, then shrugged. “I live in Equestria’s capital city of Canterlot. I’ve had an interest in learning since I was a filly, which led me to be accepted into Celestia’s school for gifted unicorns. My mom’s an author, my dad’s an alchemist, and my older brother is the captain of the Royal guard.”

“What about Equestria?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is it a nice place? You know I’m looking to move.” he said with a grin, earning an eye-roll from her.

“It’s definitely more…conservative…than your world probably is, but the atmosphere is much more peaceful. The ponies are nice…well, most of them anyway…and it seems like there’s always something interesting happening nearby.”

“Do you partake in these interesting happenings, or are you the introvert that I think you are?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she answered with a deadpan look.

“True.” he replied, taking another sip of his coffee. When he sat it back down, he found Twilight staring at him with a small smile and a raised eyebrow, drawing a sigh from him as he began formulating yet another story. “Alright, fine. My stepdad-”

He was interrupted by a loud ringing coming from his coat pocket, and immediately put a finger over the earpiece to muffle the noise. He glanced up to find a disgruntled-looking Robbie glaring at him, grinning sheepishly as he waved an apology and hit the reject button to silence it. He then looked at the caller ID, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the number.

“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked.

“Nothing, it’s just the band manager. I’ll be right back.” he reassured her before getting up and walking back to the entrance, mouthing an apology to the giant by the desk. He received a good-natured shrug in response and proceeded outside, where he scanned his surroundings for potential eavesdroppers. Once he was completely sure he wouldn’t be overheard, he redialed his boss.

“Admin.”

“Didn’t you say I was off until Wednesday?” he asked bluntly.

“You would have been furious with me if I’d let this wait until tomorrow.” they replied. Allen could have sworn he detected excitement in the usually monotone voice.

“Fine, I’ll bite. What’s the job?”

“Mayor Goodman will be giving a speech on Saturday at about noon in front of city hall. Your job is simple: eliminate him.”

Allen whistled in surprise. Mayor Harold Goodman told sweet lies about making Vegas a safer place by tracking down and locking up fixers, while at the same time hiring fixers to take out key supporters of his opponents to ensure he was reelected. Anyone else he deemed to be a threat to his position and reputation was eliminated in the same brutal manner.

He was also indirectly responsible for his family’s death.

“You're right. I would have had a fit.” he said with a smile.

“You think that’s good, just wait until you hear how I’m paying you.” The Administrator continued.

“Oh?” Allen asked, his interest piqued. Killing that fat snake would be a reward in and of itself, but to promise something even better was a tall order.

“Mayor Goodman has been poisoning this city for far too long. The cartels, the attacks, the corrupt police force…it’s time to put an end to it. It’s time for you to put an end to it.”

“You never struck me as the righteous type.”

“Since his first election, I’ve been forced to watch as he slowly lowered this city into chaos. You remember what Vegas used to be like, right?”

“Party central. People were much happier, more carefree, and the biggest problem the cops had to worry about were the folks who partied a little too hard.”

“And then Goodman took over.” the Administrator agreed. “Now, the air is thick with tension and the smell of gunpowder. You and I are going to fix that. You know Kyle Remington, right?”

“Of course. I’ve been protecting him since he left the army six months ago. I never found out why, though.”

“Because he’s a revolutionary. He knows what this city should be like, and he’s planning on running for mayor. If he replaces Goodman, this city will take a huge step in a more peaceful direction.”

“Fantastic.” Allen said.

“It really is.” the Administrator agreed. There was a moment’s pause, then Allen continued.

“Not to sound like a dick or anything, but you still haven’t gotten to my reward.”

He heard his boss take a deep breath. “You know...this organization has really grown since I recruited you. Cartels have been either completely taken over or cut off from the city, allowing me alone to benefit from their wares and business. I have over a hundred fixers at my beck and call, and almost twice as many informants. The best in Vegas if I do say so myself.”

“Your point?”

“While I have many skilled individuals in my service, you are and always have been the best in the business. You’re efficient, you’re quiet, and…your best quality in my opinion…you hate your job. You’ll walk away and I won’t have to worry about you causing any grief.”

Allen leaned forward slightly, suddenly devoting all attention to the phone. “What do you mean ‘walk away’?”

“Exactly that.” Admin replied simply.

He was silent for a long time, hardly daring to believe where this was going. “You’re kidding.”

“I assure you, I’m not.”

“I can leave?” he asked quietly.

“In peace.”

He could have jumped for joy right there in the middle of the library’s courtyard, but skepticism held him down. “How do I know you won’t just whack me when the jobs done? You don’t seem like the kind of person to just let their former assets roam free.”

“I never assign hits on my own people.”

Allen scoffed. “Now that’s complete bullshit. What about the hit you put on me a few months ago, huh?”

“It wasn’t a hit. It was a scare tactic to keep you from leaving. Every one of the fifty fixers I sent after you had strict orders not to kill you. Mildly wound, if necessary, but not kill. You were never in any real danger.”

“Really?” said Allen, irritated.

“Well, you’re alright aren’t you?”

“Alright!? I have PTSD because of that fucking stunt you pulled, jackass! I haven’t slept properly since then, and I’m always expecting armed gunmen to break down the front door!” he suddenly looked around, hoping nobody had heard his little outburst.

There was a pause. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t part of the plan.”

Allen took a few seconds to calm down. Apologies weren’t going to get him to sleep, but holding a grudge wouldn’t make life easier for anyone. “We’re going way off-topic. Can I trust you to keep your end of this deal?”

“You can bet your life on it.”

“Then let’s talk about how we’re gonna make this happen. I need a list of buildings with a view of city hall, and you can disregard distance. I don’t care how far it is, I’ll make the shot.”

“Cocky much?”

“Cocky never.”

“Noted. I’m working on a list as we speak. Is there anything else?

“Depending on the distance, I might need a better bullet. Less friction with a little more powder in the casing, maybe. That’s all I can think of off the top of my head. I might have more when I pick a spot.”

“I’ll only be a phone call away. And Ghost?

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. I will not forget this.”

Allen heard them hang up and put the phone back in his pocket, then turned and started for the library again, staring at the ground the whole way.

One more. One more and I’m free. One more and I can stop.

Three years. Three years since Frost, since the Demon, since the City Slayer activation. Three years of guilt and brandy-fueled nightmares and suicidal thoughts, of killing people simply because someone told him to. It had taken three years to reach this moment, and freedom could not have felt better.

His elation was short-lived, however, as the looming prospect of an empty future made itself known. His career as a fixer had cost him any chance he’d had at a decent future, and had turned him into something of a stranger to the community he’d grown up in. There weren’t many avenues he could take out of this situation.

Mentally, he slapped himself for his pessimistic attitude.

I can figure that out later. Maybe I can convince Admin to help me dust off my old life, or maybe I can get Skeeter to help me until I can get my life sorted out. Anything would be better than this.

Twilight looked up as he approached the table. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he responded casually. “My manager just gave me the time of our next practice session.”

Twilight lit up. “Neat! Can I come?”

“Sorry, no.” said Allen as he quickly tried to think of a good cover story. “It’s in the same neighborhood where those thugs attacked you. I don’t want to take any chances that they’ll be there and recognize you.”

“Alright.” she said, looking slightly disappointed.

“Speaking of which,” he continued. “I’ve got to head to a store in that area to get some strings. I’ll drop you off at home first, so…you know, don’t open the door to strangers.”

“Okay…but what if someone breaks in while you’re gone?”

“Then you have my permission to do to them what you did to me yesterday, only make sure they stay down until I get back.”

“Can do. Do you want to leave now?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. I’d like to beat the traffic. C’mon, help me gather these up and we’ll go check them out real quick.”

“Thanks, and thank you for bringing me here.” she said with a smile.

“What’re friends for, right?” he said with a grin.

Twilight shook her head and turned to grab half of her stack of books, never noticing the frown that replaced her new friend’s grin as he took his.

Well, definitely not for lying to. he thought to himself as he started for the front desk.

Why was he lying to her? It wasn’t like he had to fear her finding out, since she’d take her knowledge of his existence with her when she left.

But if she finds out, she might get scared and run off. he rationalized. If that happens, she’ll either die or put the both of us at risk.

He nodded to himself, satisfied with that logic, and fished through his pocket for his wallet.

What she doesn’t know can’t hurt us.

Author's Note

And now the end is in sight.
Let me know in the comments section what you thought about the chapter (because I do so enjoy talking to you fine ladies and gentlemen :ajsmug: ), and be sure to give me a thumbs-up if you enjoyed.
Thanks! :twilightsmile:

Ch.7-Complications

Billy leaned casually against the side of the loading dock door. He and his boss had just taken delivery of a dozen cakes for some convention they were having inside. His boss had then disappeared into his office with the delivery driver to finalize payment, leaving Billy to wait by the door.

He sighed and dragged a hand down his face, bored out of his mind. He’d been instructed to stay put so that when the next truck arrived, the driver would have someone to help him unload the goods. Unfortunately, that truck had been delayed for another fifteen minutes because they’d dropped one of the cakes, so Billy was going to have to wait for at least half an hour against the door.

He looked around at the rest of the back room, then sighed again. “Fuck it.” he said, starting towards the bathroom. Maybe he could disappear for a few minutes and mess around on his phone.

He hadn’t gone five steps, however, when he noticed someone walking towards him. Someone dressed in a black jacket and matching fedora with a gray scarf covering his face.

Someone who definitely did not work here.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be-” he was abruptly cut off as the stranger clamped his hand over his mouth. Before Billy could do anything else, the stranger grabbed his hand and pressed something into it. Billy looked down at the hundred-dollar bill now in his grasp, then looked a question at the intruder.

“You keep your mouth shut and do exactly as I tell you, there’ll be nine more of those for you.” said the stranger quietly, removing his hand from the boy's mouth.

Billy stared blankly at him for a moment, then smiled as he tucked the bill into his pocket.

“How can I help you, sir?” he asked politely.

((((((*******))))))

“Admin.”

“I’m all set.” said Allen as he drove away from his new vantage point. “I’ve picked a cozy little spot on top of the Palazzo Hotel. All I’ve got to do is get my car a quick check-up and I’ll be good for Saturday.”

“You’re sure you’ll be able to hit him from there?”

“I wouldn’t have picked it otherwise.” replied Allen.

The Administrator grunted in acknowledgment, and he continued. “Hey, relax. You picked me to do this job for a reason, after all.”

“Because you have the best chance of making the shot.” they agreed.

“No, because you know I will make the shot.” Allen corrected.

"I don't know that."

"I do."

“Overconfident much?”

Allen smiled. “It’s only overconfidence if I miss.”

He heard a chuckle from the other end. “Very true, sir. Very true.”

Allen turned left, heading for his home in the southern district. The Administrator spoke again.

“You know…you don’t have to do this.”

“Come again?” Allen asked.

“You can walk away right now if you want to. I won’t stop you. I’ll meet you on Monday at the spot where I recruited you to hand you your information, and then you and I will cut ties and this nightmare will be over.”

“I appreciate the offer, but no.”

“Why?”

“If I walk away from this, you’ll have to fill the spot with one of your other fixers.” Allen explained. “I’ve seen their work. They’re pretty good, but they don’t have much experience at extended range, which is the only way to kill Goodman and get away with it. If you use them to do the job, there’s a fifty-fifty chance that they’ll miss. If that happens, Goodman will make sure we never get another chance like this.”

“If you insist.” the Administrator conceded. “Speaking of your retirement though, what’s your plan?”

“To retire.” Allen replied absently.

“Okay, but how? I mean, I know it's none of my business, but would it hurt to at least let me know that you have a plan?”

The Administrator waited a moment, but didn’t receive an answer.

“Uh…Ghost?”

Allen remained silent as he watched the car trailing behind him.

“I need you to jam all communications within a hundred meter radius of my phone. Now.”

((((((*******))))))

“Captain Simmons, this is Sergeant Major Jeffry. We are currently tailing a suspect. They’re in a vehicle which matches the description you gave us.”

“Do not engage. This is the guy who single-handedly foiled a state bank heist. Just keep tailing him until he gets wherev-”

Jeff cringed as a high-pitched tone suddenly replaced Simmons’ voice. “Son of a-what the hell just happened!?”

“What is it?” asked Carl, his driver.

“Nothing, just…keep driving.” Jeff replied, attempting to redial Simmons.

Carl turned back to the road and concentrated on keeping a visual and a distance at the same time, while his partner put the phone to his ear again. There were a few seconds of silence before Jeff hung up.

“Dammit.” he said. “Now I can’t even get a dial tone.”

“So no Simmons, then. What do we do?”

“What we’re doing now. Just keep following him until we find out where he’s going.”

Carl looked doubtful. “You do realize that you can’t reach Simmons probably because the suspect already knows we’re here, right?”

“I’m perfectly aware of that. But do you have a better plan?”

He got no response. “Then keep driving.”

((((((*******))))))

“Alright, jammer’s active.” said the Administrator. “So what made you so jumpy?”

“This same Jaguar’s been on my tail for the past few blocks.” Allen replied, still eying the silver car suspiciously.

“Any gang-related distinguishing features?.” asked Admin.

“On the car? No, nothing. And I can’t see whoever’s inside.” Allen replied. “Hold on a second. Let me try something”

Allen dropped his phone onto the passenger seat and then turned right, away from the route he’d originally been traveling. He chewed his lip as he watched the silver car follow closely behind him, then quickly take cover behind a city bus.

“Nice try pal, but I see you.” he muttered.

He turned right again, now heading back the way he’d come, and peered behind him to watch his pursuer. Instead of following him again, the car continued forward, heading towards the central district.

Allen waited and watched behind him for a few minutes. Sure enough, he saw the Jaguar fall back in behind him about five cars back, stalking him like the predatory cat it was named after.

“Very creative.” Allen picked his phone back up. “Hey, you still there?”

“Of course. You still being followed?” Admin responded.

“Yup. It’s a tail. I’m sure of it.”

“Who do you think it is?”

“I have no idea, but whoever it is, they’re no novice. They could be fixers, private investigators… who knows. Doesn’t matter anyways. What matters is how I’m going to lose them.”

“You could always lead them into an alleyway and shoot them. That’ll solve your problem real quick.” Admin suggested innocently.

“I’m not even going to dignify that.”

He heard a sigh on the other end, followed by some underhanded comment about pacifism.

“What was that?” Allen snapped.

“Nothing. So what’s your plan then?”

Allen thought for a moment. His home in the Southern district wasn’t too far away. If he booked it and got home as fast as he could, he at least wouldn’t have to worry about cops finding him, but he risked letting his tail find out where he lived.

So how do I get rid of them…he thought, glancing into the oncoming lanes. He sighed as he steeled himself.

“Admin, I’m gonna have to get back to you.” he said before tossing his phone in the passenger seat.

((((((*******))))))

Carl tapped his thumb against the wheel nervously. “Is he still watching us?”

“I don’t think so.” replied Jeff, who was watching their target intently through a pair of binoculars. “That trick never fails. That and we’re a good five cars behind him in heavy traffic. I think we’re good.”

“Never fails, huh? What about in Seattle?”

Jeff fell silent for a moment. “Hey Carl?”

“Yeah?” replied the driver.

“Shut up.”

Carl shot a grin at his partner, then turned back to their quarry.

Suddenly, with tires screeching, said quarry made a wild U-turn and started to quickly pull away from the two agents through oncoming traffic. Carl spun around and took off after him.

“He’s trying to get back to his safehouse! Follow him!” yelled Jeff.

“No! Really!?” Carl shot back as he floored the accelerator, chasing after the slower Mustang. The black muscle car made a sharp left through oncoming traffic, and he followed without much difficulty.

“I don’t get it. He knows we’re following him, so why’s he leading us home?” Jeff asked aloud.

“Isn’t it obvious? He’s trying to make us crash before he enters the district.”

“And if he does it quickly enough, he won’t have to worry about cops following him in, either. Smart.”

Their quarry made another left, sliding around a massive pickup and squeezing between two other cars. Carl followed with ease.

“Try to pit him when we get close enough.” Jeff said. “We don’t want to drag this out longer than we have to.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve almost got him.” Carl responded shortly.

Both cars continued their deadly waltz through traffic for another few seconds before the muscle car made another left, passing directly in front of a city bus.

“He’s close! Think you can hit him!?”

“With pleasure. This tool’s going dow-OH SHIT! NO!”

The source of Carl’s sudden panic was revealed as an eighteen-wheeler loomed into view from behind the bus, horn blaring. He attempted to turn back into the correct lane, then his eyes widened as he realized it was already too late.

((((((*******))))))

Allen grinned wickedly as he saw the Jaguar do a crazy flip over the front of the eighteen-wheeler, landing on its roof and crushing against the pavement from the force of the crash.

“Hasta la vista, jackass!” he said, picking up the phone again. “Hey.”

“Hey. I’m going to assume from your triumphant screaming that you took out the tail?”

“Yeah, without killing them, I might add. You can drop the jammer, by the way.” he said smugly.

“Yeah, well good for you.” the Administrator replied bemusedly as he complied.

Allen pulled into the cracked parking lot of a donut shop and parked the car, got out, and started jogging toward the intersection where the Jaguar sat smoking. He arrived and easily blended in with the rest of the crowd that was already watching.

“Admin, I’m at the intersection.”

“How bad is it?”

“Pretty bad. The Jag’s laying on its back, the front’s smashed in, no glass to speak of, and both front wheels are gone.”

“Ouch.”

Allen saw one of the doors suddenly pop off. “Hold on, the drivers are getting out.”

“Anyone we know?”

“Um…” Allen squinted to see the men who’d been tailing him. However, nothing about them really stood out. “No. Who the hell are these guys?” he asked himself more than anyone else.

“No gang-related apparel?” inquired the Administrator.

“No,” Allen replied, watching as police cruisers pulled up to the flipped Jaguar. “Just your average Joes.”

“Could be fixers.” they suggested.

“No. These aren’t fixers. They’re too…formal.”

The police went through the usual textbook wellness checklist with everyone involved in the crash, then turned to the guys who had been in the Jaguar.

“Who, then?”

“I have no cl-” Allen abruptly stopped as he saw one of the tail drivers flash a badge at the cops. It wasn’t the brass seven-pointed star of the LVPD, though. This one was a more brightly toned shield, one which made the police instantly stand up straighter. Allen gasped.

They weren’t gang members, fixers, or cops.

They were federal agents.

"Shit!” Allen hissed, sprinting back to his car.

“What? What’s wrong? Who are they?” the Administrator asked, slightly worried.

“Feds, man! There’s fucking feds in Vegas!”

“What!? Why!?”

“How the hell should I know!?” snapped Allen, getting back into his car. He quickly started it and drove off, several cars honking angrily as he flew past.

“This is bullshit. Why now!? Just when we’re about to whack the biggest mobster in Vegas!?” asked Admin.

“I don’t know. Listen, I’m gonna haul ass back to my neighborhood and lay low, before those fuckers can organize a road block and cut me off from the southern district.”

“Understood. I’ll keep an eye on the city, to see if I can determine just how bad our situation is.”

There was a moment’s silence as both took in the gravity of their newest dilemma.

“We’re going to have to modify the plan for Goodman’s assassination.” Allen pointed out.

“You still wanna go through with this!?” The Administrator asked, shocked.

“Of course I don’t. But we’re on a tight schedule and I’m the best you’ve got.” Allen replied with a sigh. “Besides, if we succeed, I’ll be able to vanish into thin air and escape the feds for good.”

“Glad to hear you’re still up for it. I’ll keep you informed.”

“Thanks. Talk to you tomorrow.” and he hung up.

Allen tossed the phone onto the seat beside him, then turned on the radio. He felt himself start to relax after the initial shock of discovering that Vegas was infested by government agents, but he was still worried.

As Allen tried to drive home as inconspicuously as possible, he couldn’t help but continue worrying. Because truth be told, he actually did know why the feds were in Vegas. He didn’t know how he knew, and he didn’t know how they’d found out, but one thing was absolutely certain.

The feds were on the hunt for Twilight Sparkle.

Author's Note

Hope you're enjoying so far! :twilightsmile: I already have a general idea how the rest of the story's gonna play out, except for this one gap in the middle. But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
As usual, be sure to leave a comment and also give me a big thumbs-up if you enjoyed.
Thanks!

Ch.8-The Search Continues

Equestria

Celestia lay awake in her bedroom. The day had been long and taxing, and she was tired beyond belief. But her mind simply wouldn’t rest.

It had been three days since Twilight’s disappearance. Her family was becoming more and more stressed as each day passed, if Shining Armor was any indication. The captain looked as though he hadn’t slept properly since his little sister had disappeared. Celestia would have loved to send him on a leave of absence, but neither he nor his position would allow it.

Moondancer and Velvet had been sifting through Twilight’s notes since her disappearance. Celestia hoped that they were taking breaks to eat and sleep, because she hadn’t seen them at all since the incident. She also suspected that they’d abandoned the shift schedule and had begun sifting through the notes together nonstop. While their dedication was admirable, they could only go so long without sleep.

Celestia finally gave up on sleep and got up, stretching her wings. She then slipped on her royal attire and left her bedroom for the study. They’re going to take a break, Celestia thought to herself, even if I have to make them do so. With that thought in mind, she made her way through the halls as quickly as she could without making too much noise.

She spent ten minutes walking through the quiet stone hallways of Canterlot Castle. Except for the occasional nighttime patrol, the halls looked completely deserted. Occasionally, one of the torches on the wall would flicker gently, sending her shadow dancing across the opposite wall.

She looked up as she stepped into the pale moonlit courtyard, staring at the silhouette of Nightmare Moon above her.

Just a few more weeks, Luna. she thought somberly. We’ll be together again soon.

It had been nearly a thousand years since Luna’s banishment, but it felt like much longer than that. Every day Celestia had spent without her sister had been spent feeling as though a piece of her was missing. It had been utter torture, wrought on her by her own thoughtlessness.

But it was almost over.

She suddenly stopped and glanced backwards. Lost in her thoughts as she was, she had almost walked straight past the entrance to Twilight’s study. She shook her head to clear it, then opened the door with her magic and walked inside.

The study was dark except for a few candles sitting atop the writing desk. Also on the writing desk were several stacks of notes and the heads of an exhausted-looking Moondancer and Twilight Velvet. Celestia shook her head in sympathy, then picked the sleeping mares up with her magic and carried them outside. She looked around and spotted an incoming patrol down the road.

“Guards!” she called.

The four stallions quickly trotted over and stood at attention. “Your majesty?”

“Please take Moondancer back to her room, and Twilight Velvet back to her home.” Celestia ordered. “Instruct your reliefs to bring Moondancer a very large breakfast in the morning and make sure that she eats it. Nightlight will take care of Velvet.”

“Yes, your majesty.” They chorused, taking the exhausted mares in their magic before setting off.

“Thank you.” Celestia said, before shutting the door and returning to the writing desk to look over their progress.

They’d taken all of the binders with information pertaining specifically to opening the Breach and stacked them to the left of the desk, while everything pertaining to other topics such as its origins was stacked to the right. Most of the binders on the left were covered in sticky notes which highlighted information of high importance. Judging by the number of sticky notes, she judged they were coming along nicely.

Celestia smiled. Hold on just a little longer, Twilight.

Just then, she heard the door open again. She turned and saw Shining Armor enter the study, stopping in his surprise at seeing her there.

“Captain, shouldn’t you be asleep?” she asked sternly.

Shining cocked an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you?”

Celestia stared at him for a moment, then sat down and began looking through the information highlighted by the sticky notes. Shining took a seat on the opposite side and did the same.

They worked in silence for the most part of an hour before Shining spoke up.

“So how’s Spike doing?”

“He seems to have as much trouble sleeping as you and I. He says the emptiness of their room scares him, and asked if he could stay in my room until she comes back.”

“What were you expecting?” Shining asked out of curiosity.

“I was expecting him to burst into fit of hyperventilation every few hours when he’d think of something terrible happening to her.” she replied. “Either he doesn’t believe those things will happen, or he’s trying not to think about it. Either way, he isn’t doing well.”

Shining grunted in response and continued sifting through his binder. Another few minutes passed before Celestia spoke again. “How’s Cadence?”

“She was devastated when I told her what happened. You know she feels like Twily’s her little sister. She hasn’t been eating, and no matter what I say to her she always replies with ‘I’m not hungry right now’.”

“Mm. What about your father? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Calm. He keeps telling us not to worry about him and that he’s doing fine, but I’m not stupid. I’ve seen him pouring himself a drink more than once every day since Twily’s disappearance, and Dad never drinks.”

“We’re all finding different ways of coping.” said Celestia. “Twilight means a lot to all of us. That’s why we have to hold out hope that she’s alright. At least until we can find out for certain what happened.”

“Do you think something’s happened to her?” asked Shining.

“I have no idea. What I do know is that we have to believe that there’s at least a slim chance that she’s alright. If we don’t, we may never see her again.”

“Agreed.” Shining replied before returning his full attention to his binder. Celestia did the same, and not another word was spoken for the rest of the night.

((((((*******))))))

Las Vegas

“You did WHAT?!” bellowed Simmons.

Jeff stood in the middle of a portable base of operations, confused as to what he’d said to upset his boss. “I showed him my badge so that we could get blockades set up to catch the suspect, sir.”

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?! MOST OF THE GANGS IN THIS CITY HAVE MADE DEALS WITH THE FUCKING COPS! YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS BACK OUT THERE AND MAKE SURE THOSE COPS DON’T TELL ANYONE WE’RE HERE!” Everyone in the base noticeably cringed at Simmons’ shouting.

“I already did, sir.” Simmons stared at the agent for a moment. “The story we gave everyone is that we were detectives in pursuit of a murder suspect. We also threatened the officers we spoke to with treason charges if they talked about us. No one’s going to look twice at us.”

Simmons took a minute to calm down. That story gave enough excuse for the two agents to be speeding down the freeway like they had been, and God knows this city wasn’t short on murder. Jeffrey obviously had all bases covered with this little mishap, so Simmons figured he could afford to go easy on him.

“Alright, fine. But you still don’t go flashing your badge to every Tom, Dick, and whoever in the city. This is supposed to be a covert operation, understand?”

“Understood, sir. Won’t happen again.” replied Jeff.

Simmons nodded. “Dismissed.” Jeff gave a salute and then exited the trailer.

Simmons went to a desk with a computer at the back of the trailer and sat down. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a second.

Trying to hide three covert government units in a city like Vegas was like trying to hide an elephant in a convenience store. The soldiers and scientists under his command simply did not fit in with the folks in Vegas. He’d been up for a majority of their time here trying to keep his agents from screwing up and blowing their cover. He’d been successful so far, but it was only a matter of time.

I need to find that sneaky bastard now. he thought. I need a miracle.

Simmons sat up when he felt his phone vibrate. He smiled as he slid his phone out of his pocket and saw it was Myles.

Speak of the devil. he thought as he answered.

“Hey, what do you got for me?”

“Good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

Simmons sighed. “I think-“

“Alright, bad news it is.” Myles said, deliberately cutting off Simmons.

Simmons gave a small chuckle despite himself. “You little shit.”

“Naturally. Anyways, the bad news is that our guy had a jammer going during the chase. It rendered all the street cameras he passed utterly useless.”

Simmons groaned. “Are you telling me that we still have no idea where to find him?” he asked miserably.

“Nope, and that’s the good news.” replied Myles. “I followed all of those downed cameras back to where the chase originally started. Before that, I can see him leaving from behind the Palazzo hotel.”

“The Palazzo Hotel? Any idea why?”

“Uhh…no. Isn’t that your department Mr. Detective?”

“Smartass.” Simmons thought for a moment. “The Ghost is a sniper, so he needs a decent vantage point to work.”

“So you think we’ll be finding him on the roof in the near future?”

“Unless you have another theory?”

“I hear they have a killer breakfast buffet.” Myles said seriously.

“Again: smartass.”

“But of course. Can you imagine me without my sparkling sense of humor?”

“I can, and I can honestly say it fills me with fear.”

“No joke?”

“Myles, I see myself at some boring desk job.”

“God, that is a scary thought!” Myles replied with exaggerated fear in his voice.

There was a moment of silence between the two.

“Hey Myles?”

“Sup?”

“Don’t ever change.” Simmons said with a smile.

“You got it boss!” Myles replied cheerfully. “Give me a call and let me know when you nab the guy.”

“Sure thing pal. Thanks.”

“Good luck.” He hung up.

As soon as the call ended, Simmons dialed another three numbers. All three lines were answered almost instantly. “Sir?” the officers asked in unison.

“Gentlemen, I want squads to stake out the Palazzo hotel. Jones’ squad will take first shift, Oxley’s second, and Brody’s third. I want eyes on all areas at all times and I want you to-”

Suddenly his phone rang again. He checked and saw, to his surprise, Myles’ name in the caller I.D. He added him to the call.

“Yes Myles?”

“Hey, just saw this on the news. Mayor Goodman’s giving a big speech at city hall on Saturday.”

“So?”

“So, city hall’s in plain view of the top of the Palazzo. I think our guy’s about to be involved in some bad politics.”

“Mr. Avalon, you are on fire tonight.” Simmons said with a grin.

“I aim to please, sir. If I may make a suggestion, though? Wait until after the Ghost kills the mayor to arrest him.”

“Why’s that?” asked Simmons, confused.

“There’s no two ways about it: that mayor is one fucked up piece of work. This city will be better off without him.”

“Understood. Thanks for the intel.”

“My pleasure.” Myles said before hanging up.

“Gentlemen, I’ll call you as soon as Goodman takes the stage. When I tell you to, I want you to rush in and arrest the Ghost before he can get away, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” The officers chorused.

“Good. Dismissed.” He ended the call.

He leaned back in his chair once again and smiled, sighing contentedly.

“Checkmate, sir.”

Author's Note

Kind of a short chapter compared to my other ones, but this one's mainly to keep the flow together if you know what I mean. So don't expect to see too many chapters this short.
I would also like to thank you guys for the awesome feedback I've been getting on this story. You're all too kind to little ol' me. :pinkiesmile: :heart:
As usual, be sure to leave a comment letting me know what you thought about the chapter and hit the like button if you really enjoyed. Thanks guys! :twilightsmile:

Ch.9-Deals, Dillemmas, and One Drunk-Ass Redneck

“Where are we going exactly?” Twilight asked.

Allen had said that he needed to run an errand and asked Twilight if she wanted to come with him. While she was used to spending many hours secluded in her study or the royal library, she was quickly running out of reading material. He had promised to take her back to the library soon so that she could find something else to read, but until then she was stuck with what she had. So, she’d decided to take a break and go for a ride.

She also preferred to be with him at all times ever since she’d learned about the federal agents in Vegas. Allen hadn’t gone into detail about what would happen to her if she was captured, and she’d prefer to never experience those details firsthand.

“We’re going to visit an old friend of mine.” Allen replied. “He’s the one who put the Mach 1 back together after I found it in the scrapyard. He’s been wanting me to bring it into his shop for a tune-up for a while, and since I have nothing else to do today, I figured today would be perfect. We also have some…personal things to discuss.”

“I see.”

They were cruising through the southern part of Vegas where none of the cameras were active. Luckily, their destination was also in this area so they wouldn’t have to risk detection on the more urban roads.

After about fifteen minutes, a mid-sized concrete garage came into view. A neon sign on the front of the building read “Henry and Son’s Auto Repair & Custom”. Allen drove over the cracked parking lot and onto one of two parking bays. All was quiet on the inside except for a small radio playing on the worktable and the snoring of a man in the chair beside it. They got out and, while Allen went to switch the sign to “closed”, Twilight looked around the room with interest.

The whole place was filled with strange machines and thick cables which ran every which way. There were two sets of metal rails on the floor, one of which was occupied by the Mach 1. There was also a small lot outside in the back filled with cars of varying types and sizes.

This looks interesting. she thought to herself.

“Skeeter! SKEEEETEEER!” she heard Allen calling across the shop. She walked over and found him shaking the sleeping man, trying to wake him up.

The man wore a wool hat which was currently folded down over his eyes, a denim vest over a green T-shirt, and jeans. He was also covered head to toe in grease. He slept with his feet propped up on the table and the chair leaned back, a large wrench held tightly to his chest.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, concerned.

“Nothing. He’s just hungover.” Allen replied casually.

“You say that like it’s completely normal.” she said, shaking her head at the man.

“Sadly, it is completely normal.” he replied with his own head shake. He then noticed empty bottles under the chair his friend was sleeping in, and leaned down to take a closer look. “Whoa…”

“What?”

“He must have gotten some good news recently, because that’s way fewer bottles than I was expecting. Here, help me wake him up.”

“Is that even possible?” she asked uncertainly, staring at the drooling mechanic.

“Of course. Go get some ice out of that fridge over there. I’ll be right back.”

While she went to get the ice, Allen went around the garage in search of a good-sized bucket. He found one sitting on a shelf on the other side of the shop, and took it over to the sink to rinse it out and fill it with the coldest water he could get out of the tap. He then walked back over to the worktable, where Twilight joined him a second later, holding several ice cube trays.

“Is this really necessary?” asked Twilight as Allen cracked the trays off into the bucket.

“Well, the alternative is slapping him until he wakes up, which I don’t want to do. One, it’ll give him a headache; and two, that wrench might end up hitting me in the face.”

“Never mind, then.” she said as he grabbed a wrench off the table to stir the bucket with. After a few seconds of this, he lifted the wrench out of the bucket and tested the water with his fingers, quickly pulling them out again. “Perfect.”

Twilight sighed as she watched Allen approach the sleeping man with the bucket of water. He stepped close to Skeeter, then turned back to her. “You might want to step back.”

She nodded and took three large paces backwards. He turned back to the unfortunate mechanic, took a deep breath, and prepared himself for whatever drunken nonsense was about to fly out of his best friend’s mouth.

“RISE AND SHINE, SKEETER!!” he yelled.

The mechanic suddenly fell backwards out of his chair, flailing his wrench around wildly as the bucket of ice-cold water was dumped on him. He quickly scrambled to his feet, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“YOU AINT NEVER GONNA TAKE ME ALIVE YOU STARCHY SUM’ BITCH!!”

He stood, wrench above his head and teeth bared, ready to combat his attackers; only to find Allen standing a few feet away, bucket behind his back and innocent smile upon his face.

“Good morning, buddy!” Allen said cheerfully.

Skeeter just stood there with a blank look on his face and wrench still poised for attack.

“Hey Al?” he said.

“Sup?”

“Ya’ll suck.” he said with a smile.

“You too, buddy. You too.” Allen replied.

((((((*******))))))

“Bullshit.” Skeeter said, disbelief evident in his voice.

He and Allen had retreated to his office, presumably to discuss what needed done to the car and whatever personal things Allen had been referring to; leaving Twilight to observe the many machines in the garage. As soon as Allen had told him about the Administrator’s offer, he’d started shaking his head.

“I shit you not, sir.” Allen replied seriously.

“Forgive me, but Ah’m having a little trouble wrappin’ mah head around this. It doesn’t seem just a lil’ too sweet a deal to ya?”

“That’s what I thought at first. But the more I talk to Admin, the more I’m convinced that this isn’t some scam. I’m a hundred percent certain they’re letting me go.”

Skeeter dragged a hand down his face and sighed resignedly. “Look man,” he said. “if y’all want to go through with this, I won’t try ‘n stop ya. But let me just say that I think this is a really bad idea.”

“Your concern has been noted, but let me just say you probably couldn’t stop me even if you tried."

Skeeter raised a brow. “That a challenge?”

“Maybe.” Allen replied, smirking.

They stared each other down for a few seconds, then Skeeter bent down and opened a fridge he had hidden under the desk. He returned with two beers which they promptly opened on the desk. Skeeter raised his.

“Well then, here’s to hopin’ everythin’ goes to plan.” he said.

“Amen.” agreed Allen. They both took long swigs before setting their respective bottles back down.

“Actually, speaking of plans-” Allen began.

“Oh, please tell me ya got one.” Skeeter said with a look.

“That was one time! Give me a break! I was still a novice!”

“Calm down, ah’m kiddin’. So what about yer plan then?”

Allen took a deep breath. “Skeeter, I won’t lie to you. There’s feds in Vegas.”

Skeeter stared at Allen blankly for a moment. “What?”

“Calm down Skeeter.” Allen said, seeing the signs of a coming panic attack. Skeeter had an unexplainable fear of the federal government. He believed that the government was secretly rounding up certain citizens for research purposes and that he, for some reason, was next. He’d already been to three different therapists, all of which had recommended that Allen have him institutionalized. Allen had no clue what had brought his friend to this wacky conclusion, but he refused to believe that it was something worth sending him to the madhouse over.

“Why would ah do that!?”

“They’re not after you. They’re after me.” Allen immediately regretted that statement.

Skeeter’s eyes widened. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better!?”

“Skeeter-”

“Ya’ll gotta be crazier than me to go on this job wit’ them fuckers in town!” he said as he stood up.

“Skeeter!” he said loudly. “They won’t catch me if you help me!”

Skeeter stood still for a moment, then slowly sat back down and took another swig. “Whaddya need?”

“I think they’re looking for the Mach 1, so I need an invisible car.” Allen replied simply.

Skeeter laughed loudly for a few seconds, until he realized his friend wasn’t joking. “Wait…ya’ll serious?”

“I don’t mean Harry Potter invisible. I mean Ghost invisible.”

“Ahhhh.” Skeeter said as he finally understood his friend’s meaning and got up. “Unfortunately, ah got just the thing.” Skeeter said, opening the door to the lot out back and walking out.

“Unfortunately?” asked Allen, confused as he followed the mechanic.

“This piece o’ shit’s been an eyesore in my lot, but I keep it in case y’all need it.”

“What piece of shit are you talking about?” Allen asked as they walked past dozens of Skeeter’s masterpieces. His work mostly consisted of vintage cars from Thunderbirds to Corvaires; some in the middle of being worked on and covered up to prevent damage to the internal components, others finished and proudly displaying their near-immaculate finishes to the rest of the lot. In the far corner of the lot sat a doomsday bug-out bus, a father-son project Skeeter had been trying to finish in his spare time.

All in all, Allen thought it was a pretty impressive collection. “Seriously, I can’t see…oh.” He stopped as he finally saw what Skeeter was talking about.

“Yeah. Oh…mah gawd.”

For a moment, both just stared in disgust at the brown Prius hiding behind the bus at the end of the lot.

“Painted accordingly, ain’t it?”

“I appreciate you keeping this for me, but there was no need to poison the rest of your lot with this…abomination.”

“Agreed. Will y’all do me a favor after yer done with it?”

“Free up that parking spot?”

“Please ‘n thank ya.”

Allen grinned. “With pleasure.”

“Good.” Skeeter replied as he began walking back. “Ya know…although ah’m sure ya got this all figgered out, ah’m still hesitant about lettin’ ya do this.”

“Again, your concern is noted, but let me remind you that you can’t stop me.”

“Oh?” he challenged.

“Oh.” Allen answered.

“Ya know, ah could toss ya’ll in one o’ these here trunks ‘til after Goodman’s speech.”

“Just as I could toss you into one of these here trunks and run off with the turdmobile.” Allen replied in a dangerously calm voice.

“Tousche.” Skeeter replied.

“Hey Skeeter?” He looked over at Allen. “I know you’re worried. Don’t be. This won’t be the most dangerous job I’ve ever been on, especially with you loaning me that car. I’ll be finished before you know it, the feds will eventually give up looking for whatever they’re looking for and leave, and we can celebrate my retirement properly.”

Skeeter smiled at his shady friend. “Yer right, Al.”

“Of course I am.” Allen replied, making the mechanic roll his eyes. “By the way, not a word of my ‘employment’ to my cousin, alright?”

“Sure thing. Now c’mon, Black Beauty needs her checkup.”

((((((*******))))))

While Skeeter took a look under the Mach 1’s hood, Allen sat playing a game on his phone and Twilight (having already pestered Skeeter for information on every piece of machinery in the store) read an automotive enthusiast magazine. Skeeter preferred to be the only one who worked on the Mach 1, because he believed anyone trying to help him just got in the way. And truth be told, no one knew the ins and outs of a car better than he did, especially when it came to the Mach 1. So Allen was used to just kicking back while Skeeter went to town on his car.

Twilight closed the magazine and watched Skeeter for a few minutes. Noticing how focused the mechanic was on his work, she spoke quietly to Allen. “He’s concentrating like a surgeon.”

“He is a surgeon.” he replied. “But instead of people, he performs surgery on cars.”

“I’ve never imagined anyone who drinks as much as him could manage that kind of focus.”

“Yeah, Skeeter’s a real piece of work.” he said distantly.

Twilight looked at him, his tone sparking her curiosity. “Are you two close?”

“Brothers in all but blood.” he responded with a smile. “I’ve gotten in and out of almost as much trouble with him as I have with my actual brother.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never talked about your immediate family before. What are they like?”

Allen sat silent for a moment, debating on whether or not he actually wanted to discuss this with her. Eh…why not?

“My stepdad was a detective, one of the best. He was a real pleasant guy to be around, but you couldn’t look him dead in the eye for too long, or you’d start to feel like you were being X-rayed. My mother was a stay-at-home. She and I used to be homeless, hiding on top of buildings and fighting to find what we needed to survive, until we got busted by my stepdad for shoplifting. I’m still not sure how it happened, but shortly after that we ended up moving in with him. Within a year they were married, and within another I got a little brother.”

“What kind of ‘trouble’ did you two get into?” Twilight asked with a smile.

Allen grinned. “It was him and I versus the world. He was always getting picked on at school by these upper-class kids, so we’d made a tradition out of egging their houses on weekends until they stopped. We got in fights, we shoplifted, dodged the local street gangs…all without our parents finding out. Him and I were inseparable.” He suddenly stopped grinning and looked down at his boots. “Well, almost anyway.”

“What happened to them?” Twilight asked, concerned.

Allen suddenly heard the hood slam shut and looked up to see Skeeter wiping his hands on a towel. He suddenly straightened up. “Hey Skeeter!”

Skeeter looked up from the front of the car. “Huh?”

“How’s your brother?” Skeeter had a twin brother in the army, a fact which went a long way to explaining his alcoholism.

The other man suddenly grinned. “He’s on his way home.”

“No shit! Really!?”

“Really. Should be back by Sunday. Just in time, huh?”

“Oh yeah, just in time to help us get rid of that monstrosity in your backyard.”

“Yeah, we could take it out to the desert ‘n toss Molotov cocktails at it ‘til it explodes!” he said, cackling like a maniac. “Hey Tanya, you comin’?”

“Huh?” Twilight stopped staring at Allen when she heard her fake name called. “Oh, sure! Sounds like fun!”

“Sweeeet. We’ll have the whole gang here.” he said, grin fading as he turned back to the Mach 1. “Well, everything under the hood looks a’right, now let’s see ‘bout the underbelly.” he said as he moved over to the remote controlling the hydraulic lift. He pressed a button and the tracks that the car was sitting on began to slowly raise up. Twilight noticed an odd creaking as it went up.

“Um, is it supposed to make that noise?”

“No.” said Skeeter. “There’s somethin’ wrong with the pressurizer under the floor. I’m still waitin’ on the replacement.”

“Shouldn’t you wait to get under cars until after you fix it?” asked Allen worriedly.

“Probably, but the damage ain’t too bad. It’ll still do its job.” said Skeeter, crouching under the car.

“Hey, you’re the mechanic, not me.” Allen said with a shrug as he turned back to his game.

“Don't worry. Everything’ll be-”

CLINK

Three pairs of eyes shot up and stared at the car.

“-fine?”

CLUNK

Suddenly the entire assembly came rushing down toward the mechanic’s head.

“OH SHIT!!” he screamed. He hit the floor and covered his head with his hands, eyes shut tight and prepared for death.

Death that never came.

Skeeter slowly opened one eye and turned to look up at the car that should have killed him. The whole assembly was surrounded by a faint pink aura. He turned to look at his friends, and saw a very pale-faced Allen staring at his cousin’s hands, which were engulfed in the same pink aura. Skeeter looked back up at the car, then back at her hands.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do:” he said. “I’m gonna scoot out from under this car; you, miss, are gonna put her down real gentle; and you, Allen, are gonna start explainin’ what in the name of pale blue uncle Ferdinand is going on right now. Ready? Go.”

((((((*******))))))

Allen and Twilight were in the car heading home about an hour later.

“I think he took it surprisingly well.” said Allen.

“Really?” said Twilight.

“Yeah. Nice catch by the way.”

“Thanks.”

Just then, Allen’s phone rang. He picked it up and frowned at the screen. “One second, please.” He answered and put it to his ear. “Hey Skeeter, what’s up?”

Twilight sat there wondering what was being said until Allen spoke again.

“Skeeter, listen to me. You don’t need institutionalized, alright? I saw it, too. You’re not crazy.” he paused while Skeeter spoke. “Yes, I’m sure.” Another pause. “Trust me, if that’s going to happen to anyone, it’ll at least happen to me first.”

Twilight sighed. “So much for taking it well.” she said to herself.

((((((*******))))))

Allen’s phone rang again as they pulled into his driveway.

“Come on, Skeeter. The shock’s gotta wear off eventually.” he said as he dug his phone out from between the seats. He finally succeeded, and took a look at the caller I.D. “Scratch that, it’s my boss. Here.” He handed Twilight the house key. “Top lock. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Alright.” Twilight said. She found it a little curious that he wanted to take a call from a band manager in private, but she didn’t press the issue as she left for the house.

Once she was out of sight, he answered the phone. “What do you got?”

“Well, I’ve discovered just how big of a problem the feds are.”

“Oh God.” Allen groaned. He could tell by their tone that this wasn’t good news.

“They’re everywhere in the city. Patrolling. Searching for you. However, according to my sources, there’s a larger concentration around the Palazzo.”

“Dammit, they know exactly where I’m going to be.” Allen said. “That really complicates things.”

“Think you can find a new vantage point before tomorrow?”

“Hell no. I know a few spots that might do, but I don’t have the time to figure out how I’m going to get to them.”

“So, we’re screwed then? Goodman wins?” Admin asked sadly.

“Absolutely not!” Allen replied angrily. “There’s no way I’m letting that snake go free. We just have to improvise.”

The car was silent for a long time while both thought about possible solutions to the problem now facing them. Then the Administrator spoke up.

“I think I have an idea. It’s a bit of a stretch, but I think it’ll work.”

“I’m all ears.” Allen said.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do…”

Author's Note

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you...Skeeter!
Be sure to tell me what you thought about this chapter in the comments section and click that like button if you enjoyed. Thanks! :twilightsmile:

Ch.10-Operation Goodman (Part 1)

“Alright I’m headin’ out.” Allen told Twilight.

“Where are you going? To another practice session?” she asked, noting the guitar case slung on his back.

“Uh, no. This is actually the band’s last big show. We’ll probably only be there for an hour or two.”

Twilight looked disappointed. “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, we all agreed it wasn’t working. A small-time band like ours never stood a chance in a city like this.”

“Too many bigger acts. I understand.” she said with a nod. “Still, I bet you guys will sound fantastic.”

Allen nodded appreciatively. “Thanks. Hey, what do you say we go out for lunch when I get back? We gotta celebrate and find somewhere to spend all the tips I’m about to get.”

“That sounds great! I’d love to!”

“Great. I should be back at about two, and then we’ll head to a joint I know.” Allen said as he walked out the door.

“Sounds like a plan. Good luck!” She called.

“Thanks!”

Allen then shut and locked the door, stuck the case in the back seat, and set off for Skeeter’s to trade his car for the piece of ecocrap he had waiting for him.

((((((*******))))))

“All agents, be advised: Goodman takes the stage in half an hour. Stay alert and report any suspicious persons or activity. We cannot allow the Ghost to escape again.”

Neither Jeff nor Carl responded, instead opting to continue watching the Palazzo’s parking lot. Both were seated at an outdoor café table watching for any signs of their quarry. There were eleven other pairs stationed around the building doing the same thing, and they also had Avalon watching the inside of the hotel through its security cameras.

They’d taken the Ghost’s last escape quite personally. Carl was upset that, for the first time since his teens, someone had managed to outdrive him. Jeff, being the one in charge during the chase, had received many strings of abuse from his comrades, and they just kept coming.

“Like they could’ve done any better.” he said sourly to himself.

“What’s that?” asked Carl.

“Nothing. Just keep your eyes on the lot.” he replied.

Carl looked at his partner. “Hey, don’t let those tools get to you. If it had been anyone else in the passenger seat spotting for me, we probably never would’ve even seen the guy to begin with.”

Jeff was about to respond when his radio sounded again. “Hey Jeff, try not to screw up this time, alright? We don’t want to have to clean up your mess again.” Reese sneered. Reese had just enough superiority over Jeff to punish him for insubordination or retaliation of any kind. His mission in life was to make Jeff’s life a living hell, and there was nothing he could do about it. “Hey Jeff? That required a response.”

Jeff clenched his teeth, but responded as politely as he could. “Of course, sir. I won’t.”

There was a snicker on the other end. “You better not.”

Jeff bit back the retort that was balancing on the end of his tongue. “One day, Reese…”

“Calm down bro.” said Carl. “There’s no need to give him the satisfaction.”

“I know.” he said, taking a breath.

“In an ideal world, his ass would be back in D.C. scrubbing toilets or something.”

“No.” Jeff corrected. “In an ideal world, he’d be the one we’re hunting for. And we wouldn’t need him alive.”

“Yeah, there you go.” Carl said chuckling. “One can dream, though.”

“They certainly can.” Jeff replied with a smile, returning his attention to the parking lot.

((((((*******))))))

The lobby of the Palazzo was relatively quiet. There were one or two groups scattered around the room engaged in casual conversation, but not making enough noise to disturb the peace. Even so, no one noticed the figure in the light brown trench coat as he crossed the lobby to the reception desk.

“Good afternoon, love.” he said with a heavy English accent.

The receptionist hastily stowed her phone under the desk. “Good afternoon, sir! Welcome to the Palazzo hotel! How can I help you?” she said with a nervous smile.

The man smiled warmly. “Checking in. Should be under ‘Johnathan Demetrius’.”

The lady typed on the computer for a few seconds. “Ah, yes. Your room is ready Mr. Demetrius. Would you like any help with your bags?”

He shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I can handle my own luggage.”

“Alright then.” she said as she produced his card. “You are in room thirteen-zero-eight. If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Much appreciated.” The man said as he took the card. He then quietly added, gesturing under the desk, “Nice shot by the way.”

The receptionist’s eyes widened considerably.

“Don’t worry, love.” he continued. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thank you.” she whispered, smiling for real this time.

The man then walked over to one of the elevators and pushed the button, humming quietly to himself and lightly swinging a worn-out guitar case as he waited for the doors to open.

((((((*******))))))

City Hall

Goodman straightened his tie for what felt like the millionth time.

“You’re on in ten, sir.”

“Understood.” he replied to the stagehand.

Goodman really did not want to be here doing this, but he didn’t have much of a choice if he wanted to stay out of prison, let alone in office. Somebody in financial had managed to leak some sensitive information which partially linked him to the death of his last opponent’s campaign manager. The press was having an absolute field day with the information.

He couldn’t ignore what the people were saying about him, nor could he deny that most of it was the truth. Of course, he didn’t plan on telling them that. He now had to put these people’s fears to rest, or at least shut them up long enough to do something to cover up his involvement.

“Hopefully they’re still as gullible as they were last time.” he said to himself, then shook his head and smiled. “Who am I kidding? Of course they are. This’ll be over in time for lunch.”

Suddenly, his phone rang. “Speaking of lunch...”

He cleared his throat before answering. “Mr. Freid! A pleasure as always!”

“Goodman.” the caller responded simply. “We are still meeting to negotiate the new contract, correct?”

“Of course! I’ll be there at two o’ clock sharp.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you meeting us like this.”

“Mr. Freid, you and your men have been invaluable assets in my campaign. Your request for a renegotiation of our contract is only to be expected. In fact, I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”

“On in five.” the stage director called.

“I’ll be there at two, sir. Just make sure I stay alive long enough to make it there!” he said with a chuckle.

“Of course. See you soon.” said Freid, right before the line went dead.

Goodman pocketed the phone and straightened his tie again. “Yes. Nothing to worry about.”

((((((*******))))))

Twilight was bored.

There wasn’t a word to describe just how very, very bored she was.

She had read every book they’d gotten from the library already. She’d investigated every aspect of the house, managing to fill one of many spare notebooks that Allen had given her. She’d even braved the internet again, managed once again to come across some very obscene pictures, slammed the top down and thrown the device across the room in her frustration, then used her magic to quickly repair it. Now, she was stretched across the couch with nothing to do but blow the occasional strand of hair out of her eyes.

She wished Allen was here. He might be a bit shady and keep a ton of secrets, but he was still a nice person to be around. He’d probably make some wisecrack about how bored she looked, after which she’d probably transfigure his hair into a flower pot or something to get on his nerves.

Maybe it was because of his confidence, his easygoing nature, or because he’d saved her life. Whatever the case, he was one of the quickest friends she’d ever made.

Now if only I knew a little more about him.

Twilight wasn’t stupid. She’d noticed how hesitant he’d been when she’d asked him about his family, and the intentional change of subject when she’d asked what happened to them. He was a mystery she planned on solving.

Maybe, during lunch, he’d be in a good enough mood to answer those questions. If not, at least she’d have tried, and at least she could get out of the house for a bit.

Until then, however, she was stuck here with nothing to do.

She looked around, once more searching desperately for something to do. Her eyes settled on the T.V. remote sitting on the coffee table. She stared at it for a moment, then shrugged and levitated it over to her hand.

She took a moment to study the device, then pushed a button labeled ‘power’ at the top. The T.V. flickered to life, and a man in a tuxedo appeared on screen,

“-now go live to Samantha Gautier, with coverage on the mayor’s city-wide address.”

The picture changed to that of a woman in a dark blue coat. Twilight let the remote drop to the floor and lay there listening to the reporter.

This might be interesting. she thought.

((((((*******))))))

Allen swiped his keycard through the lock and stepped inside the hotel room. He sat his suitcase and guitar case on the bed and took his phone out of his pocket. He dialed the Administrator, then turned the phone on speaker and set it on the bed so he could work.

“Hey, you in position yet?” asked the Administrator when they picked up.

“Yeah, just getting set up.” Allen replied, grunting with the effort of moving a heavy writing desk towards the window.

His employer was silent for a moment. “What are you doing right now?”

Allen finished moving the desk and stood up, panting. “I don’t want people to see my rifle barrel sticking out of the window, but I still need a stable surface to set it on.” he explained as he extended the rifles bipod and secured the silencer. “So, I just moved this desk over to the window.”

“Oh.” the Administrator said. “Well then…alright. You’re wearing gloves right?”

“Of course. How much time do I have?” Allen asked as he knelt down and began adjusting the focus.

“Five minutes to showtime.” they replied. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

“Absolutely.” Allen said shortly. “Wind speed?”

“About twenty miles per hour. Remember, you didn’t have to do this. I could’ve found someone else to hit Goodman. You could’ve walked free without risking federal custody.”

“I know, but I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this job. Success is too important, so we can’t take any chances.” Allen replied. “After this though, you can count on my permanent retirement.”

“You sound so much older than you did three years ago.”

Now it was Allen’s turn to be silent. “I’m tired Admin. I’m tired of being involved in this mess. I’ve destroyed families, made enemies, and killed innocent people who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. This job has torn me in half several times over, and I’m done. This is my last assignment. Then, I’m packing this rifle away for good, and pulling my final disappearing act.”

“I understand.” replied Admin. “One minute.”

Allen concentrated on the podium. It was two and a half miles away, so the bullet would arrive at the podium approximately two seconds after leaving the barrel. He’d have to compensate for any small movement Goodman made.

“Damn, this is gonna be tricky.” Allen said quietly.

“You sure you can do it?” the Administrator asked worriedly.

“Admin, have a little faith will you?”

“Sorry.”

“I said tricky, not impossible. If I’d said impossible, then I’d let you worry a little bit.”

“Overconfident much?” they sassed.

Allen chuckled. “Like I said before, it’s only overconfidence if I mi-”

CLICK

Allen’s eyes widened as he heard the noise, and he immediately leaned to his right just as a large kukri knife buried itself in the desk. He immediately stood and elbowed his attacker in the face, sending him back several feet.

“Hold still, ya mongrel!” the man shouted with a gruff Australian accent, charging again.

Allen did the complete opposite and kicked the man in the gut, buying himself just enough time to unsheathe his own knife and get a good look at his opponent.

He was wearing an outbacker’s hat, a vest and red shirt with sleeves rolled up, some very rugged-looking pants, and a pair of snakeskin boots. The grizzled face behind his glasses had a nasty scar on the left cheek. He held the kukri off to the side with his feet apart, ready to slice Allen wide open at the first opportunity.

Allen glared at the would-be assassin. “You sneaky little fuck.”

The man grinned. “Bloody nance.”

“So how exactly did you know where to find me?” Allen asked as he slowly got used to the smell of the outbacker.

“A friend o’ mine’s been listening in on your phone calls. He’s crafty that way.”

“You heard that right?” Allen called to the Administrator.

“I've already traced his bug. We’ll get him, you worry about Steve Irwin over there.”

“Piss off, wanka!” the Australian retorted angrily.

Allen took advantage of the momentary distraction to lunge at the enemy fixer, who spun right to avoid the stab. Then, with the speed of a snake, he brought the kukri around and tried to slit Allen’s throat. Allen, however, grabbed the arm and twisted it. The fixer howled and aimed a punch at Allen, who was forced to let go of the kukri arm to avoid it. Then they both backed up and began circling each other, each waiting for the other to make the next move.

“You ready to meet Sharpy?” the man asked with a wicked smile.

Allen was too busy thinking to say anything. This guy was faster than a bat out of hell. He was going to have a hell of a time surviving the next few minutes, but he also had another problem.

Goodman had already started giving his speech, and once he answered the press’ questions, he would walk off the stage. If Allen didn’t hurry up and take care of this guy, Goodman was going to walk free, and he’d probably never get a second chance to finish this.

Author's Note

DING! DING! DING!
It's the showdown of the century between my OC and the one and only REEEED SNIPEEER! Place your bets now folks!
Please leave a comment telling me your thoughts, and hit that like button if you enjoyed.
Thanks guys! :twilightsmile:

Ch.11-Operation Goodman (Part 2)

“…and while I understand your concerns, I must ask you to understand that we are doing the best we can with the tools we have.” Goodman said, concluding his speech.

Hundreds of people were gathered before the stage. Most were reporters, either listening intently to Goodman’s speech or scribbling away on notepads. There was the occasional click of a camera, but otherwise the crowd was completely silent.

Goodman continued. “Are there any questions?”

A reporter near the stage spoke up. “Why hasn’t the federal government sent anyone to help hunt down the hitmen?”

“I have asked for the government’s assistance in our war against these murderers, but the government is under too much stress right now to send any aid. After all, it can’t be easy running a country and a war overseas at the same time.”

“Why have no attempts been made lately to apprehend the Ghost?” asked a third reporter.

“We can’t catch him, that’s why. By the time Vegas’ finest hear about his recent activity and arrive on the scene, he could be miles away in any direction.” said Goodman, swinging his arm out for emphasis.

“Why haven’t you tried to find out where he lives? He’s obviously staying somewhere in Vegas.”

“We have tried. We sent a four-man undercover team into the southern district last year with the best weapons money can buy. Their objective was to tail the bastard and find out where he lives. You know what happened to them?”

There was a pause as Goodman looked around at the audience, seemingly waiting for a response.

“No? Me neither. And of course, we don’t dare send maintenance crews in there to fix the cameras, because the same thing could happen to them.” he continued, earning a few anxious whispers. “The Ghost isn’t just crafty; he’s also paranoid. There’s no way to catch him off guard because he’s already thought of every possible way we can catch him. He is always in control.”

((((((*******))))))

Allen struggled against the wall as the kukri slowly inched closer and closer to his face. His own knife lay useless a couple feet away.

“One sniper to another, mate? Give. Up.” the outbacker spat triumphantly.

Allen chose to do the complete opposite, bringing his feet up and kicking the other fixer hard in the chest and sending him stumbling backwards. He quickly scooped his knife back up and turned back around, jumping backwards as the outbacker lunged with the kukri.

Allen tried to stab him in his exposed back, but he was already up and leaned back to allow the knife to pass by harmlessly while raising the kukri for a downward slash. Allen spun past the slash and slammed knife into the man’s side, smiling at the scream of pain that marked his opponent’s defeat.

What he didn’t realize was that said opponent had received wounds like this many times before.

The pommel of the kukri knife suddenly slammed into Allen’s forehead, sending him to the floor with a yelp of surprise. He started to get up and heard a metallic click, and looked up to see the outbacker pointing a silenced SMG at him, smiling sadistically.

“Ya know, you and I are a lot alike mate…except you’re-”

He was cut off as the gun was kicked out of his hand. He stared for a moment at the now-empty appendage, then angrily turned back to Allen and raised the kukri again. “Hold still, ya mongrel!”

Once again, Allen did the complete opposite and kicked the other man in the crotch, causing him to bend over in agony. He then slammed the flat of his boot into the outbacker’s face, snapping the hunting glasses in two and sending him to floor, his hat bouncing away. He tried to pin the enemy fixer and grab his knife out of his side so he could finish him, but he was quickly thrown off.

“Nice try mate,” said the outbacker smugly as he removed the knife and tossed it behind the bed. “but I’m not givin’ it back.”

“Alright then, plan B.” Allen said, quickly drawing his silenced pistol and pointing it at him. He only managed to squeeze off one round, though, before his enemy used the oversized knife to smack it out of his hand, then charged at him again.

With no weapons left and a very angry Australian assassin charging at him with a kukri knife, Allen realized he had very few options left.

So he mentally steeled himself and charged at said Australian in return.

Just before the man could strike, Allen grabbed the kukri handle and his face and brought the both of them crashing to the floor, earning an elbow to the face.

He quickly rolled to his feet while the outbacker struggled to recover. Taking advantage of the other man’s temporary head trauma, he charged again and delivered a knee to the gut, three quick jabs to the face, and a spinning head kick. He then grabbed the man by the back of his vest and slammed him into the wall, grabbing his arms and forcing them behind his back while he looked around the room for something to finish him with.

He grinned wickedly as his eyes set upon the flatscreen on the other wall.

Taking the outbacker’s arms in one arm and pushing against the back of his neck with the other, Allen ran towards the television and slammed the Aussie into it face-first, grimacing with effort of keeping his face inside the violently sparking screen as he fought desperately to escape.

Suddenly, the man succeeded in freeing one of his arms and punched Allen in the jaw, forcing him to let go. He then made a wild swing with the kukri and succeeded in giving him a shallow gash in his midsection.

Allen yelped and retreated a few paces, watching as the char-faced Australian recovered and turned his insane, blood-shot eyes on him. He screamed and charged once again, kukri raised with the intention of slicing him in two.

Allen dove to the side to avoid the strike. While one hand held his bleeding midsection, the other searched the area around him for anything of use.

The Australian pivoted and, seeing his target sprawled helpless on the ground, took the blade in both hands and raised it to finish him off.

Allen cringed, preparing for death, when his fingers suddenly found a handle and trigger. He raised the SMG and sprayed in his opponent’s general direction.

He lay there for a moment, hardly daring to breathe. Then, when he didn’t feel a cold piece of metal crash through his ribs and into his heart, he opened one eye to observe his surroundings. He then collapsed onto his back with a sigh of relief.

The outbacker lay a few feet away, blood seeping from just over a dozen bullet wounds in his torso.

“Ghost? Are you there!? Ghost!” he heard the Administrator yelling.

“Dude, quit yelling! Jesus!” Allen snapped.

He heard a sigh from the other end. “Thank Christ. Hey, Goodman’s leaving! If you’re gonna take the shot, you need to do it now!”

“Roger.” Allen replied, staggering to his feet and staggering back to his rifle. He knelt down and sighted Goodman again, seeing the gray haired man in the blue suit wave to the audience as he began to exit right.

“Negative twenty…up a little to compensate…” Allen muttered to himself.

Goodman had nearly made it to the stairs, but Allen forced himself to concentrate and not rush the shot.

“More…” he muttered.

He took in a deep breath as Goodman reached the top of the stairs.

He let it go slowly when his foot hit the second step…and fired.

They waited in anticipation as Goodman neared the bottom of the stairs. “Please don’t miss.” Allen silently begged the bullet.

He smiled as Goodman’s head snapped sharply to the left, blood staining the canvas behind him. “Curtains bitch.”

“Yes! Oh God, YES!” cheered his former employer. “Sir, it’s been a pleasure working with you!”

“I wish I could say the same.” Allen replied. “I also wish we had more time to celebrate.”

“Speaking of which, you have about five minutes before the feds realize you aren’t on the roof.”

“Shit, I forgot about them.” he said absently as he opened the suitcase and extracted a spare shirt, along with his black coat, fedora, and gray scarf. He also tore up one of the sheets on the bed and wrapped it tightly around his midsection, gasping as pain shot from the wound.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” the Administrator asked worriedly.

“Steve Irwin tried to gut me with a kukri knife.”

Allen paused as he heard a snort of laughter on the other end. “What’s so funny?”

There was a moment of silence before they spoke. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. You could’ve died.”

Allen chuckled. “Relax, I’m kidding” he said. “By the way, did you find your guy?”

“Little bastard snuck into our headquarters and disguised himself as a maintenance worker. We caught him trying to get out through the vents, so he’s dealt with.”

“Great.” Allen turned to survey the battle-torn hotel room. “Now what am I going to do about this?”

The damage wasn’t the problem. He didn’t care if people knew he’d been here, because they were probably going to find that out anyway. What bothered him was the giant blood stain on the carpet that had come from the kukri slicing him open. If the forensics team swept through here and checked each individual stain (as they undoubtedly would), that stain would give them a name and a face to hunt for. Allen couldn’t have that, so he had to find some way to destroy the evidence.

And he was running out of time to do so.

He looked frantically around the room in search of bleach or disinfectant of some kind to cover his tracks. He started panicking when all he found were complimentary shampoos and lotions.

“Come on, come on! Throw me a fucking bone here!” he said anxiously.

“They’re on the roof.” Admin warned.

“Shit!” was Allen’s only reply.

He was about to make a run for it and take his chances when an oil lamp on one of the nightstands caught his attention. He walked over to it and noticed a box of matches next to it.

“Well, that’s convenient.” he said as he retrieved his knife from behind the bed.

“What is?” asked the Administrator.

“Admin, I’ll call you back when I’m on the road.” he replied before hanging up.

Having retrieved all of his gear, he quickly struck a match and lit the small piece of oil-soaked fabric inside. He waited for the flame to completely swallow the fabric before smashing it on the carpet and leaving.

He made sure to activate the fire alarm before leaving the building.

((((((*******))))))

“Spread out and find him!” Reese shouted to the rest of his squad. “Guard the doors! Make sure he doesn’t get away! Move it!”

While everybody else scrambled around the roof in search of the Ghost, Jeff and Carl stayed by the door and rolled their eyes.

“No shit, Napoleon.” said Carl. Jeff sniggered in response, then looked around.

Carl turned to him. “Something wrong?”

“There’s not exactly many places to hide up here.” Jeff responded. “I don’t think he’s here.”

“But…wait. You think he was in a hotel room?”

“I’ll bet my badge on it.” he said. He looked over at his commanding officer and took a deep breath.

This is going to suck. “Reese!” he called.

Said commanding officer turned and approached him. “What do you want, Jeff?” he said tiredly, as if certain Jeff was about to waste his time.

“I don’t think our guy is up here. I think he’s in one of the hotel rooms.”

“I didn’t know you were paid to think.” Reese sneered. Jeff growled inwardly, but kept his composure.

“We need to lock down the building, sir. That way we can-”

“I’m sorry, is that your call to make?” Reese said loudly. A few of the other agents stopped to watch the conflict.

“No sir, but-”

“Who’s in charge here Jeffry? Me or you!?” His voice was slowly rising to fever pitch, as was Jeff’s temper.

“You sir. I’m just-”

“You know what Jeff? Simmons seems to be under the impression that you’re one of the finest agents that the academy has turned out in the past few years.”

Jeff’s eyes widened in surprise. Wait…what?

“But you know what I think?” Reese leaned in real close to Jeff’s face. “I think you’re just some punk-ass, insubordinate little…” He suddenly trailed off and sniffed a few times. “Do you smell smoke?”

Suddenly, the fire alarm began going off in the building. Jeff stood confused for a moment, then ran to the front end of the roof and looked down to see a pillar of smoke rising towards him from a hotel room fire about three floors down. Far below he saw a brown car quickly exit the parking lot and get on the main road, heading south.

Carl joined him a second later. “Holy shit! What happened!?” he exclaimed as he saw the fire. He looked over at his partner and noticed how very angry he looked. “Uhh…Jeff?”

Jeff didn’t answer, instead continuing to glare angrily at the parking lot far below. He heard Reese approach the edge and gasp as he saw the fire. “What the hell-”

Suddenly, his lower jaw made contact with the roof of his mouth and he dropped to the roof, followed by several of his teeth.

For a moment, all attention was focused on the man whimpering on his back. Then all agents turned to watch a very depressed-looking Jeff walk towards the exit.

((((((*******))))))

Allen dialed the Administrator as he drove along the busy freeway, watching fire engines speed past as they headed for the smoking hotel.

“Hello?”

“Time to update my list of offences. Ready?” Allen asked breathlessly. “Theft, murder, assault, destruction of public property, destruction of private property, resisting arrest, assaulting public officials, impersonating public officials…and now arsony. The list just keeps getting bigger, doesn’t it?”

“How you haven’t been caught yet is beyond me.” Admin agreed.

“Which reminds me: I don’t think you’re getting the deposit back on that hotel room.”

“Yeah, what the hell were you thinking, by the way!?” they asked loudly.

“Hey, it’s not like I had a gallon of bleach sitting around!” Allen shot back. “Covering up the evidence wasn’t an option, so I had to incinerate it instead.”

He heard a heavy sigh from the other end. “I’m not happy about this.”

“Neither am I.”

The car was silent for a few moments, then Allen spoke up.

“Look on the bright side, though: we did it.”

“That we did sir, that we did.” Admin said with a chuckle. “Remember to meet me at ground zero in two days.”

“Sure. I’ll see you there.” Allen said, then he hung up. He tossed the phone into the passenger seat, then turned off the freeway and headed for Skeeter’s.

“Dude’s gonna be pissed when this piece of shit shows back up in his lot.” he said with a chuckle.

Author's Note

You knew who was going to win. We all did :ajsmug:
Be sure to comment, leave a like, and follow me for more epic content like this.
Also, thanks for the feedback guys. :twilightsmile: :heart:

Ch.12-Freedom

Skeeter was worried sick.

As a result, he was also moderately pissed off.

“This job’s gonna be a cakewalk, he said. Ah go in, shoot the guy, then leave; he said. Really, Allen? Well ya didn’t say nothin’ about FUCKIN’ HOTEL FIRES, DID YA!?” Skeeter yelled to the ceiling. “Swear to God, if ya’ll come back without callin’, Ah’m gonna stick mah wrench so far up yer ass, Ah’ll have to…to…”

He trailed off as he heard his phone ring in his pocket. He quickly pulled it out and answered. “Allen?”

“Hey Skeeter.” replied Allen. Skeeter noted how breathless he sounded.

“Man, ya’ll better start explainin’ shit! First of all, why the hell-?” Skeeter began, but was abruptly cut off.

“I’ll explain everything when I get there, but you’ll need to grab your med kit first.” said Allen.

“Mah med kit!? Man what the hell-?”

“Skeeter!” Allen interrupted again. “I can’t explain things when I’m bleeding out, alright!? So just get the damn box and close shop please!”

“Alright!” Skeeter hung up and went to find his medical supplies. “Boy, ya’ll got some serious explainin’ to do.” he muttered angrily.

((((((*******))))))

Allen sat at Skeeter’s worktable while he cleaned, stitched, and bandaged the gash in his side. While that happened, he recounted everything that had taken place during what was supposed to be a cake job. Skeeter had calmed down by the time he finished, but was still pretty annoyed.

“Knew Ah shoulda kept ya’ll from that job.” Skeeter mumbled.

“I’m not even going to dignify that.”

Skeeter grunted in response, then leaned back to check his work.

“How’s it feel?” he asked.

Allen gave him a look. That’s a really stupid thing to ask.

“I have a big fat gash in my side. It hurts.”

“How bad, jackass?”

Allen stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. “Not as bad as it probably should. Thanks, by the way.” he said as he tugged his shirt back on.

“S’all good.” Skeeter said simply as he went to his office to put his medical kit away.

“Also, sorry I couldn’t get rid of that piece of shit Prius for you.” said Allen, trying to find some way to lighten the mood.

Skeeter chuckled. “No worries man. We gonna need some fireworks to celebrate anyway. Hey, you could bring yer girlfriend along!”

Allen laughed. “She’s…she’s not my girlfriend, buddy.”

Skeeter came back with two beers. “Bullshit.”

Allen shook his head as he took the bottle that his friend offered him. “I shit you not.”

Now it was Skeeter’s turn to shake his head. “Nah, you’re shittin’ me. Ah know it.”

“What makes you think I’m lying to you?” asked Allen as he opened his bottle, wincing as the action sent pain shooting through him.

“Well…ya still ain’t told her about whatcha do for a livin’.”

Allen raised an eyebrow. “What I did, and I haven’t told a lot of people. I wasn’t even planning on telling you. What’s your point?”

“You’re worried about what she’ll think of ya.” he said as he took a sip of beer.

“Skeeter, I’m trying to protect her from an entire world that would extort her for her abilities. Now what do you think will happen if I tell her about my job? How do you think she’ll react?”

Skeeter thought for a second. “Probably be scared shitless.”

“Exactly, which could lead to her into doing something dangerous that would put the both of us on the radar. Which isn’t a good idea in a city infested by federal agents.”

“That may be true, but Ah saw the way ya’ll was lookin’ at ‘er yesterday. Ya’ll enjoy her company much more than mine or Arnie's. Ah may be a hopeless drunk, but Ah ain’t stupid. Ah know love when Ah see it.”

“It isn’t love Skeeter.” Allen replied, slightly annoyed. “We’re just friends. Now drop it.”

For a long while, each glared at the other

“Whatever.” Skeeter mumbled. “Damn, ya’lls a real stubborn sumbitch.”

“Look who’s talking.” Allen retorted. Skeeter shot him a dirty look, then returned to his beer.

They sat there for a few minutes, enjoying the silence and punctuating it with the occasional swig of beer.

“On another note, it’s finally over.” Allen said with a smile.

“Yep.” Skeeter replied contentedly. “Got any big plans?”

“One pretty simple one, actually.” Allen said, downing the last of his beer. “Get a full-time job, lay low for a bit and wait for the feds to leave, then leave this dump for good using the money I’ve saved up during my career as a fixer.”

“Leave?” Skeeter repeated with interest. “Where ya’ll gonna go?”

Allen thought for a moment. “Canada.” he said simply.

“Canada? Oak leaf country?” his friend asked, wondering if he’d heard right. “Seriously?”

“Yup. I’ll be out of American jurisdiction, with the added benefit of being a complete nobody. Admin’s going to forge some new personal records for me and erase my previous ones, and as soon as I’m sure that no one will notice me, I’m gonna pack what I can into the Mach 1 and put this cesspool in my rearview mirror.”

Skeeter sighed. “Ah’m gonna miss seein’ you two roll into mah shop every coupla’ weeks.” he said sadly.

Allen reached over and patted his shoulder. “Thank you Skeeter. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me these three long years. I doubt I would’ve made it this long without you.”

Skeeter grinned. “Hey, what’s family for, right?”

“True. Just remember: I’m keeping my phone number. If you ever need anything, anything at all, I’ll just be a phone call away.”

“Thanks buddy.” Skeeter said appreciatively.

Silence returned to the garage for another few minutes, both men having finished their beer and now simply letting their minds wander. Skeeter looked over at Allen. “Quick question?”

“Shoot.”

“Feel free not to answer this, but why’d ya’ll hate bein’ a fixer so much?”

Allen’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Skeeter had never asked such a personal question about his job. “What kind of question is that?”

“An honest one.” replied the mechanic. “Ya’ll was pretty gung-ho ‘bout workin’ for that robo-creeper when ya first told me about ‘em, ‘bout gettin’ revenge on the fucker that killed yer family. Now, Ah can’t blame ya fer that. Anyone else woulda’ reacted the same way, Ah’m sure. Wha’s buggin’ me is what happened when ya finally got ‘em. Ya’ll sounded like ya was on a war path before the job, but when Ah came and saved yer ass afterwards, ya’ll was scared of somethin’ and wouldn't tell me what.”

Allen turned to look at him as he continued.

“What the hell did ya’ll see in there?”

He stared at Skeeter for a long moment, wondering whether or not he should tell him, then turned back around. “Let’s just say I saw myself clearly for the first time.” he said quietly.

Skeeter stared back at his best friend, trying to figure out what he’d meant by that, when said friend suddenly got up and threw his trenchcoat back on. “I better get going. I promised Twilight lunch.”

“Oh?” said Skeeter, mouth suddenly stretching into a wide grin.

Allen glared at him in annoyance as he put his fedora back on. “Can I take someone out to lunch without you saying things?”

“Sorry.”

He shook his head as he got back in the Mach 1, groaning contentedly in the leather driver’s seat.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” he said as he turned the key, grinning as the car roared to life. “Never again, darling.”

Skeeter bent down and looked at him through the passenger window. “So when ya’ll wanna torch that Prius?”

“I’m meeting Admin in two days so they can give me my old paper records and we can properly cut ties. I’ll be over right after that, and we’ll head out together.”

“Good deal. See ya then!” he said as Allen backed out of the garage. The other man waved in farewell before speeding off toward his house.

Skeeter leaned against the garage door and watched with a frown as the black muscle car disappeared around a corner.

What ain’t ya’ll tellin’ me, man?

He stood there for a few more minutes, silently contemplating the mystery that was his best friend.

Then he shrugged in defeat and switched the store’s sign back to ‘open’.

((((((*******))))))

Allen pulled back into his driveway and got out, not even bothering to lock up the car before starting towards his front door. There wasn’t much point, seeing as they were about to leave again in the next five minutes.

He was searching through his pockets for his house key when he noticed a flicker of movement in his living room window. He stopped, suddenly apprehensive.

What the hell…?

Finally locating his key, he approached his front door, slightly more cautious than before. He didn’t have a choice. He had to go inside, regardless of who was in there. He unlocked the door and opened it slightly, peeking through the crack in an attempt to see anything suspicious waiting inside.

Suddenly, some unseen force grabbed him by his shirt collar and dragged him inside, slamming the door behind him. He staggered to a stop, holding his side in pain, and looked wildly around the room for his attacker. He calmed down slightly when the only one he noticed was Twilight, leaning casually next to the kitchen door. “Twilight, what the hell!?” he asked angrily. “That wasn’t funny! You scared the living-”

He stopped as he saw the look on her face. It was a look unlike any he’d ever seen before, and he had trouble reading it for a moment. It looked like the oddest mix of anger, sadness, and fear. He was about to ask her what was the matter when he finally noticed that the T.V. was on. He looked over and his breath caught in his throat, Gautier’s voice finally carrying over to him..

“…still have no idea who did it or if the two incidents are connected. Forensic teams are sifting through what’s left of the hotel room for any clues as to the identity of this mysterious terrorist, but they’ve already stated that any such clues have likely been incinerated. Police are beginning to question…”

“Well…” he began, trying to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand. “…that’s-”

Before he could get any further, however, the guitar case flew off of his back and levitated over to her in a pink aura, unclasping and opening as it went. The case finally reached her and dropped to the floor, leaving his rifle floating in plain sight.

For what felt like an eternity, they both simply stared at the weapon.

“Twilight, listen. I-”

He stopped as she aimed a ball of crackling energy at him. “You’d better start being completely honest with me.” she growled. “What were you doing before you rescued me? Why were you in that part of town to begin with?”

Allen sighed. He should have seen this coming sooner or later. Twilight was too smart and he was keeping too big of a secret. There was no way out now except to cooperate.

“I was on an assassination job. I’d finished and was on my way back to my car when I heard you scream.”

“I can’t believe this!” she said loudly. “All this time, I thought you were better than the rest of your world, when it turns out you’re just like them!”

“Excuse me!?” he said angrily. “I am nothing like them! Unlike them, I didn’t get a choice in the matter!”

“We always have a choice! You chose to become a killer!” she replied.

“Don’t act like you know me! You don’t know anything about me!”

“Because you won’t tell me anything!”

Allen snorted and shoved past, headed for the kitchen. Twilight continued to rant.

“So tell me something! Anything! Why do you kill people for a living? What did you mean by not having a choice? Why did you even bother saving me that night?”

“I don’t owe you anything, especially answers.” Allen growled as he poured himself some brandy.

"You're kidding." Twilight said incredulously.

"No, I'm not!" he raged. "A week ago, I was happily sulking in my armchair with my revolver and a glass of brandy! Then you show up, and suddenly I'm being tossed across my house and hunted by the federal government!"

Twilight shook her head with a mix of anger and desperation. “What would your family think if they saw you like this?”

Allen froze, eyes wide.

Twilight raised an eyebrow at his reaction, then jumped slightly when the bottle slipped from his grasp and shattered on the kitchen tile. She looked at him, slightly worried.

“Allen?”

He suddenly turned around and leaned against the counter.

“Allen, what-”

“I wouldn’t know what they’d think.” he quietly interjected. “It’s not like I can ask them.”

Twilight clapped her hand over her mouth, realizing that she’d just crossed a line. “I’m-”

“Don’t. Just go away.” he growled.

She stayed for a moment longer, trying to think of something she could say to make up for what she’d just done. Then, realizing she couldn’t, she turned and disappeared upstairs.

Allen continued to lean against the counter for a few more minutes, then straightened up and walked back outside to lock his car.

He came back inside and locked the door behind him, stopping as he noticed the picture hanging next to it. His mother, stepfather, and little brother all grinned back at the stony-faced ex-assassin, who stared at the picture for what felt like hours before the tears began streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry.” he finally said to them. Naturally, they didn’t respond.

Allen took a shaky breath as he turned, picked up his rifle and case, and carried them to the basement.

His career as a fixer may have finally ended, but the pain it had caused him was here to stay.

Author's Note

The cat's out of the bag now.
Please leave a comment telling me your thoughts and give me a thumbs-up if you enjoyed.
Also, please remember you're awesome. :twilightsmile:

Ch.13-No Rest for the Wicked

Allen sat at a worktable in his basement, cleaning his rifle for the last time and listening to a nearby radio.

“While Goodman’s death is a tragedy,-”

“The tragedy is I didn’t kill him sooner.” Allen muttered.

“-we have no time right now to stop and mourn. We need a new leader; one who will uphold the foundations set down by Goodman and build on them. One who will do their part to make the streets of Vegas a safer place. That new leader is right here with me, ladies and gentlemen. Please give a warm welcome to Mr. Kyle Remington.”

The crowd applauded for a few seconds while the grizzled veteran-turned-politician made his way onto the stage and up to the podium.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen.” he began as the crowd settled down. “I understand quite a few of you are still shaken up after the events of this afternoon, and I offer my sympathies. Violence of that caliber is reserved for the battlefield, not a major city.”

He sighed. “Every day, however, we are forced to witness the same level of brutality. We are forced to acknowledge that this once beautiful city has indeed become a battleground. The gangs, the fixers, the entire Vegas underground community…they’ve turned our fair metropolis into a warzone."

A ringtone sounded briefly, and Remington paused briefly before continuing. “Well…if it’s war these people want, then it’s war they’ll get.”

Allen stopped working and looked over at the radio. That didn’t sound like any campaign promise he’d ever heard.

“Step one is making Las Vegas’ finest honest again. I’m sure a handful of you already know this, but LVPD is full of crooked cops. They’ve been killing the good cops, assisting cartels, delaying response teams, and making it all-around impossible to clean up this mess. Even as I speak, private investigators are rooting out these damn snakes and getting the LVPD back in working order again.

“Step two is using the eyes of the people and the soon-to-be-reformed police department to apprehend the street gangs and hired guns that have been running these streets for the last few years. It won’t be easy, given the sheer magnitude of the task, but we’ll be able to pull it off with the combined effort of the people and the police.”

There were a few short cheers from random members of the crowd.

“I won’t lie to you,” Remington continued. “This city won’t be perfect. It’ll have crime just like any other city when all is said and done. However, it’ll be a damn sight safer by the time we get through with it.”

The crowd cheered in approval, and Allen shut off the radio. “Best of luck to you Remington. You’re gonna need it.”

He went back to quietly cleaning the components of his rifle. There wasn’t much to clean, as it had only been two weeks since he’d cleaned it last. He honestly wasn’t sure why he was even cleaning it. He should have found some way to dispose of it and destroy all evidence of his former employment.

For some odd reason, however, throwing away a perfectly good rifle still sounded like a pointless gesture.

Probably because the rifle’s not the reason you’ve been forced to do this for three years.

He sat the rag and barrel down on the table and put his head in hands.

Why do you want to toss it, anyway? The safest place for it would be in that case with you. So who are you really hiding it from?

His nails began digging into his scalp as he silently begged his conscious to shut up.

Oh, of course! You’re hiding it from yourself! That way you can run away and deny that any of this ever happened, just like you started doing three years ago.

Allen got up angrily and stomped upstairs to the kitchen to wash the residue off of his hands, then walked into the living room and sat down in his armchair, rubbing his bandaged torso. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV, trying to drown out his conscious.

“Our top story tonight: the assassination of Mayor Goodm-” Change.

“-a victim of the very monsters that he sought to-” Change.

“My little girl screamed when she saw the bl-” Change.

“-Goodman assassinated-”

“-murder-”

“-killed-”

“-assassin-”

SMASH

Allen sat there for a few seconds, then calmly walked over and unplugged the sparking and sputtering TV with the remote stuck in it and went back to the kitchen.

Nice throw.

Shut up. Allen replied as he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms.

Make me. Oh wait, that’s right. You’re out of brandy, aren’t you Butterfingers?

Allen grit his teeth, his temper rising. Would you kindly go fuck yourself?

I can’t. My body can’t twist like that. Also, I have no body.

You’re hilarious.

And once upon a time, so were you. You know, before you decided to let one tragedy rule your entire existence.

You know what!? Burn in hell!

Give it a few years and we’ll go burn together.

Allen sat down at the kitchen table, feeling his sanity slipping away with every second he spent listening to his guilty conscious. Until about an hour ago, he’d been in possession of a magical potion that could calm the voice in his head. Panic threatened to overtake him as he realized said potion was now a pile of glass in the garbage.

Damn shame, too. That stuff had the nicest aftertaste, even if it did render me mute for hours at a time.

Shut. Up.

Or what? You gonna kill me, too? Sorry, but you can’t solve all your problems like that, amigo. I go where you go. You won’t escape me, not even in hell.

Allen felt his nails digging into his scalp as he begged for the voice to stop. If this kept up, he would likely go insane right at his kitchen table.

His head settled upon the table as he continued to battle for his sanity. For once in his life, he wanted to simply stop thinking.

He wanted the voice to stop.

He wanted someone to tell him…tell him honestly…that he wasn’t as bad as he made himself out to be.

Good luck with that. You know as well as I do that the Baileys are the only ones who know you well enough to make a call like that, and their biased as all hell.

Voice was right. He couldn’t trust Skeeter’s or Arnold’s judgement. He needed someone who had no idea what to think of him.

Suddenly, he sat up in realization. Then he was heading for the stairs.

Oh sure, because she’s totally qualified to judge you properly. She doesn’t know anything about you.

Then I’ll tell her.

Seriously? This’ll be rich. Make sure you tell her about the guy you pushed off of Hoover dam.

Allen hesitated halfway up the stairs. What if he told her, and she still saw him as a monster? How would he be able to live with himself knowing that Twilight’s unbiased opinion of him was that he was a monster?

He shook his head and continued his ascent. He might not be able to live with himself in that case, but he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be able to if he didn’t at least try.

He arrived at Twilight’s door and knocked lightly. “Twilight, can we talk for a sec?”

She didn’t answer.

“Look,” he began. “I know you probably have mixed feelings about me right now, and I can’t say I blame you. You’ve asked me questions and I’ve avoided or outright refused to answer them. I’m sorry I haven’t been honest with you, but if you still want answers to those questions, I’m downstairs in the living room.”

She still said nothing, so Allen sighed and went back downstairs, sat back down in his chair, and waited.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Then twenty…

…and he still didn’t hear the stairs creak as she came downstairs.

In fact, he didn’t hear anything upstairs at all.

He went back upstairs, a little extra urgency in his step than before, and knocked on her door again. “Twilight?”

No answer.

He knocked again, harder this time. “Twilight, are you in there?”

Still nothing.

He tried the doorknob, only to spring back in pain as it bit him.

“Fuck you, too.” he said angrily. The doorknob merely hissed in response. He shook his head and turned back to the door.

”Twilight, say something so I at least know you’re alive!”

Silence.

Allen backed up a few paces. “Say something or I’m going to break down the door.”

The only sound was the creaking of the wood boards under his feet.

“Alright, then.” Allen said, then he charged and rammed the door with his good side. The old hinges gave easily under the added force, and the door came crashing down.

Allen picked himself up and took a quick look around the bedroom. Then he got up and sprinted downstairs.

“TWILIGHT SPARKLE YOU HAVE TO BE THE STUPIDEST SMART PERSON IN EITHER OF OUR UNIVERSES!!” he yelled, his voice echoing slightly throughout the otherwise empty house.

((((((*******))))))

Twilight hugged herself tightly as she walked down the darkened street.

Why? Why him, of all people? she thought. Allen had seemed like such a wonderful person. He’d saved her life, given her medical attention when she’d needed it, and even given her a place to stay. He’d done his best to keep her safe and keep her from worrying too much about getting home. He'd been one of the best friends she’d ever had.

Then she’d seen him kill the mayor of Las Vegas.

The connection hadn’t been hard to make. He hardly ever left the house unless it was absolutely necessary; and even when he did, he always took her with him. Then, on one of the few days she didn’t go with him, the mayor of Las Vegas was assassinated.

Allen had obviously been the assassin.

The part that continued to baffle her was why.

At first she’d been shocked. This had been the second time since her arrival that she’d witnessed the brutality this city was famous for, and it still managed to catch her off guard.

Once she’d figured out who the murderer was, however, she’d turned to denial. Perhaps it had just been a coincidence, and everything Allen had been telling her was the truth.

Then the facts disproving her theory had begun to pile up, and her uncertainty had grown exponentially. She didn’t know what to think of him. She’d had to find out for certain, and the only way to do that had been to find out what was in that case.

After she’d seen the rifle, it had been easy to hate him. After all, she’d had no reason not to.

And then she’d hit a nerve by mentioning his parents.

For the briefest moment, she’d wondered if that had also been a lie. His reaction had silenced that small doubt, though.

And now she was walking down the street in the middle of the night, trying to figure out how to feel about the situation. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to hate him or hug him tightly and apologize for what she’d said.

She just needed to know why.

Twilight let out a long, pent-up sigh. Unfortunately, the only one with an answer to that question was the man she had just teleported away from; and even if she asked, he was unlikely to give her an answer.

She looked up from the ground for the first time since leaving and stopped.

She was surrounded by tall concrete buildings, which signified that she was no longer in the southern district of Las Vegas. She turned around and looked back the way she’d come, only to groan in frustration at the skyscrapers she’d passed.

She sighed in defeat, realizing she was now hopelessly lost. She would’ve tried just teleporting back, but there was a rather large problem with that plan: she was out of range. While she had no idea exactly how far away she was from Allen’s house, she could almost guarantee that she wasn’t skilled enough with the spell to make that kind of jump. If she tried it, she might end up being spread all across this plane of reality.

Let’s just try and retrace our steps, shall we?

As she turned and started back the way she’d come, however, there were three things she failed to realize.

The first was that she was on camera, though that in itself bore no consequence as long as she didn’t use magic.

The second was that she was in the general area where Allen had rescued her, which was Midas gang territory.

The third was that Jase was watching her keenly, and he had a few more friends with him than before.

And they all had guns.

((((((*******))))))

“I knew this would happen, I fucking knew this would happen,…” Allen muttered impatiently as he listened to the dial tone. The Mach 1 rumbled down the late evening street as he searched for her.

As soon as he’d discovered that she wasn’t in the house, he’d grabbed his night gear and car keys and shot out of the driveway after her. By now she could be anywhere, even (God forbid) the main city. He had to find her before someone else did.

Suddenly the dial tone ended, and a groggy-sounding voice answered. “Huh? Whatcha want Allen?”

“Skeeter!” Allen exclaimed in relief. “Wake up man! I need you to help me find Twilight!”

“Ain’t she with ya?”

“No. She found out, man. She found out I was a fixer.”

The other end was silent for a moment.

“Ah’m sorry to hear that.”

“Forget it, we’ve got a bigger problem. I have no idea how long ago she left. She could be in downtown by now, for all I know. This city’s gonna eat her alive if we don’t find her first.”

“A’right. Ah’ll get in mah pickup and search the southern district. Maybe she was tryin’a get to my place.”

“Alright. I’m headed for downtown then.”

There was another pause.

“Hey Al?”

“Yeah?”

“Ah really am sorry.” Skeeter said sympathetically.

Allen sighed. “It’s not your fault, Skeeter. If I wasn’t such a raging dumbass, I wouldn’t have even gotten mixed up in all that nonsense.”

“I’ve told ya before, you can’t blame yourself for how you reacted!” Skeeter replied firmly. “Anyone else woulda reacted the same way you did!”

“Trust me Skeeter, there’s very few people who would have reacted the way I-”

Allen was suddenly cut off by the sound of an explosion. He looked right and watched as a towering fireball rose from a construction site in the downtown area.

“Skeeter, do you see that?”

“Yeah. Ya think that’s her?”

“Absolutely. Pedal to the metal, man! I’ll meet you there!”

“Gotcha!” Skeeter replied before hanging up. Allen tossed the phone into the other seat.

“How is it that you manage to find yourself neck-deep in trouble every time you leave my sight?” he asked a distant Twilight.

((((((*******))))))

Even if she could hear him, Twilight was far too busy to respond.

Not a minute after turning back towards the southern district, she’d noticed that she was being followed by a man in a yellow hoodie. She hadn’t thought much of it until she saw more men in varying types of yellow attire beginning to surround her, recognizing one of them as Jase.

As soon as she’d seen him, she’d blown everyone in the area off their feet, ran into a nearby construction site, taken cover behind the base of a crane, and fired spell after spell at her attackers.

This had frustrated Jase greatly, who’d been expecting this to be as easy as it had been last time. Apparently, the little girl had been holding back last time, because she was absolutely wiping the floor with them now. Already, two of his comrades were buried up to their necks, a third had been turned into a pig, and still none of their bullets seemed to be hitting her.

Jase had looked around for something to shake this witch off her game, and had settled for the exposed gas tank on a dump truck near her. What he didn’t see was the refueling tanker that was parked close behind it.

Twilight had nearly been knocked out for the second time that week by the resulting explosion. Luckily the dump truck had absorbed a majority of the explosion’s force, which had caused it to sail into the crane that dominated the area and crash down next to her.

Now, as she attempted to bring her heartrate back down to an acceptable level, the bullets suddenly stopped striking her cover. Confused, she peeked over the top at her attackers.

She quickly ducked back as the pipe end near her head gained a few new dents. They must be trying to conserve ammunition. she thought.

She looked around and noticed a scaffold that overlooked a good portion of the battlefield to her left. She teleported to it and conjured a barrier between her and her attackers, then summoned a thunderhead above the group closest to her. She smiled as three of the gang members did a weird jig and then collapsed to the ground, twitching and smoking slightly. She then turned to the remaining four and sent the cloud in their direction.

Unfortunately, just as she was about to fire the thunderhead again, one of the thugs landed a lucky shot on the scaffold’s supports, and the whole structure toppled over. Twilight jumped out with a shriek and landed on a pile of freshly turned dirt, rolling behind it to avoid the gunfire that lit up the area where she’d been not a second before.

She spat out some dirt as she got up, then formed another shield and walked out to take care of the remaining men. She got one and watched him topple over shakily. The others continued to fire, but their bullets merely stopped at the barrier and dropped to the ground.

She was about to take down the remaining three when they suddenly stopped firing and began to retreat. Twilight grinned at their retreating backs, then jumped at spun around at a low groaning sound coming from behind her, her face blanching as she looked up.

The crane was toppling towards her, the dent that the dump truck had left in its side now much more evident.

Well, time to go! she thought as she prepared to teleport again.

Suddenly, pain exploded through her right shoulder, and she fell to her knees in agony. She looked behind her and noticed Jase standing a good distance away, evil smile etched across his face and pistol extended in her direction.

She glanced back towards the crane and, with no time to teleport, threw up the strongest barrier she could muster. She heard it crash for a second, and then felt her shield shatter, then everything went black.

((((((*******))))))

Carl pulled up next to a pawn shop and sat there for a moment.

“You’re sure you don’t want me there?” he asked his partner.

“Yes.” replied Jeff flatly. “I’m the one who screwed up, I’m the one who’s got to face the music. Alone.”

The two friends were silent for a moment, then Jeff opened the door and got out.

“If it’s any consolation, I hear he’s getting demoted.”

“Great. I lose my job, and all he gets is a demotion.” Jeff replied miserably before shutting the door.

He put his hands in his jacket pockets and began walking down the street. Simmons had ordered him to meet him at a bridge a few blocks away so they could ‘discuss his future in the organization’. In other words, he was meeting Simmons so he could hand in his badge and disappear.

He sighed as he walked. There had been no second thought, no rationalization, no anything to stop him from punching his superior. By the time he’d finally come to his senses, it was already too late. All agents on the roof were already staring open-mouthed at Reese as he rolled on the ground, holding his mouth in agony. There had been nothing left to do but walk away.

And now the only thing left to do was hand in his badge.

After a few minutes of walking, he turned a corner and the bridge came into view. Simmons leaned against the side rail staring at the city lights in all their nighttime beauty. Jeff took a deep breath and approached, leaning casually against the rail like his boss and staring at the city.

“I'm going to move here.” said Simmons wistfully.

Jeff looked over at him in confusion. “Sir?”

“I’m going to move to Vegas when I retire. That way, I can come to this bridge every night, lean against this railing, and just lose myself in the majesty of this city.”

“Oh.” Jeff responded simply. “Sir, not to be rude, but could we possibly just get this over with?”

Simmons turned to stare at him in confusion, causing Jeff to stare back in equal confusion.

Simmons decided to end the awkward silence. “Son, why do you think I brought you here?”

“I punched my squad leader in the face earlier today. I thought I was here to hand in my badge.”

“Wait, you punched Reese?” Simmons asked incredulously.

Oh joy. He didn’t know, and now he does. FUCK! “Yes, sir.”

“You floored that egocentric, disrespectful, insubordinate little shit stain who thinks he’s all that just ‘cause his dad’s a higher-up in the federal food chain!?” the captain continued with a grin.

Jeff stared blankly at his boss for a moment, not sure how to process his response. “Yes…sir?”

“Good! You and I are probably gonna get a little heat over that, but it should be nothing major once word gets out that he was impeding a federal investigation.”

“Oh…well good!” Jeff said with his own grin, still having trouble processing his commander’s response. “Sooo…why am I here then?”

“First, what exactly did you say to Reese before you noticed the fire?”

Jeff thought for a moment. “That we needed to lock down the hotel because he was probably in one of the hotel rooms.”

“So what you’re saying is we would’ve caught the guy if you’d been in charge?”

“Well…probably. Yeah, I guess.”

“Fantastic. You can have his job then.” Simmons said as he offered Jeff a small dog tag.

Jeff looked down at the tag that helped all agents distinguish each other from the local populace, noticing this one was marked for second lieutenant. He looked back up at his commanding officer.

“Sir, I…I can’t even-”

He was interrupted as Simmons’ phone rang. “Just get me the Ghost and you can keep it, lieutenant.” Simmons said before answering. “Yeah?”

He suddenly looked back at Jeff, suddenly excited. “You’re sure?”

Jeff stared back at Simmons, wondering what was going on.

“Roger that.” Simmons said before hanging up, then walked off briskly.

“Sir?” Jeff inquired as he hurried to keep up.

“The anomaly’s been spotted in a construction site in downtown, which means the Ghost isn’t far away. Grab Carl and all the other patrol units and get ready for a chase. Tell them to bring the Sweepers.”

“Yes, sir. If I may ask, what are you doing?”

“I want to go meet the bastard who managed to evade the government for almost a week.” he replied simply.

((((((*******))))))

Twilight slowly opened her eyes, then groaned and held her head in agony.

“Ugh…what hit me? A train?” She then looked down and saw the bent framework of the construction crane resting atop her legs. “Oh. Never mind.” She sat up with a grunt, hissing as the bullet wound in her shoulder flared in agony, and took a moment to look around the construction sight.

It looked like an absolute war zone. The dump truck, tanker, and the area surrounding them were still on fire. Portions of the destroyed crane littered the site, one of which had her trapped.

Twilight attempted to levitate the beam a tiny bit so she could squirm out.

It didn’t budge.

She stared for a moment, then redoubled her efforts to move it. She struggled like this for a few more seconds, then collapsed in exhaustion. She was too weak, and the crane was far too heavy. While the shield she’d conjured just before the crane had landed on her had saved her life, it had also taken a tremendous amount of energy. The rest had been sucked away by her body as it attempted to repair itself.

“Terrific.” She panted in annoyance. “This couldn’t get much worse, could it?”

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to say stuff like that?” replied a voice behind her. She looked back, and her blood ran cold.

Jase was walking towards her, pistol held tightly in one hand. She started to struggle with the beam once again, causing Jase to chuckle cruelly.

“Nice try bitch, but you ain’t getting away this time.”

Twilight looked back at him. “Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you!?”

Jase went from cruel happiness to dead seriousness in a split second. “You’re dangerous, you know that don’t you? Those crazy voodoo powers you got? They ain’t natural. You’re a danger to everyone on the fucking planet. The world’s screwed up enough. It doesn’t need help from a freakshow like you.”

“You’re crazy if you think killing me is going to solve anything.” she spat.

“Quite the contrary, princess.” he said as he pulled the slide back and pointed it at the bridge of her nose, causing her eyes to cross as she stared at it. “I’m one of the sanest people you’ve ever met.”

Twilight gulped audibly.

“The world will thank me for this.” he said with a maniacal grin.

She shut her eyes and waited for the gunshot that would finish her.

Instead of a gunshot, though, she heard a car horn.

“What the f-OH SHIT!” Jase screamed. Twilight opened her eyes just in time to see a black muscle car slam into Jase and send him flying. He landed in a crumpled heap a few meters away and lay still.

She watched as the Mach 1 pulled up next to her. The door opened and a masked man in a black coat and fedora stepped out and shut it behind him. His eyes narrowed as he looked over at Jase’s body. “Should’ve done that the first time.”

“Allen!?”

He turned back to her. “Twilight, you’re an idiot.” he said simply.

She stared at him, unsure of how to respond.

“I know I keep a ton of secrets, but at least I’m not trying to kill you.”

Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “Secrets are one thing. Lies are another thing entirely.”

“So that’s why you ran off? Because I lied to you?”

“Because I don’t even know if I can trust you! You might not be who you say you are! What if you’re trying to find some way to extort me just like everyone else!? I don’t know anything because YOU WON’T SAY ANYTHING!!”

She was glaring harshly at him by this point. He simply stared back, completely unfazed by her rage as he waited for her to finish. Then he knelt down next to her.

“You’re right. I owe you an explanation.”

“I-YOU-what?”

“I promise I’ll explain everything, but first we have to get out of here.” he replied as a red pickup pulled up next to the Mach 1. He turned to look as a man in a ski mask got out and began searching through the bed.

“What took you so long?” Allen asked anxiously.

“Had to find mah jack.” Skeeter replied shortly as he extracted the aforementioned piece of equipment. “Explosions mean debris. Debris means liftin’. Liftin’ means Ah need mah jack.”

Twilight was about to ask what a jack was when a round bounced off of the crane piece she was trapped under.

“DOWN!!” Allen barked as he dropped into a crouch and drew his pistol. “Skeeter, you work on freeing Twilight and patching that wound in her shoulder. I’m gonna go draw their fire.”

With that he sprinted over to the relative safety of the overturned dump truck’s bucket. Twilight sighed and rolled over to her back, wincing as the bullet wound in her shoulder ignited again. She looked at Skeeter as he slid the jack under the beam and started cranking.

“Skeeter, what am I supposed to make of all of this?” she asked.

He looked at her and raised a brow. “Why’re ya askin’ me?”

“Because you know him better than anyone, and I’m willing to bet that you knew about his job, too.” She replied accusingly.

Skeeter stared at her for a moment, then sighed. “Ya know, there’s allota people on this planet who’d give anythin’ to have the job that he’s got. Ya get a big gun, a big paycheck, and ya get to shoot people for a livin’. Ya wanna know somethin’ else?”

“What?”

“Allen woulda happily been done with it three years ago if he’d been allowed. The only reason he’s still doin’ it’s ‘cause his boss screwed him over.”

With that, he returned to lifting the beam, leaving Twilight to think about what he’d said.

((((((*******))))))

Allen stood behind the wrecked dump truck, listening to the rounds bounce off of the heat-treated iron bucket.

“Yes! Good job, fellas! Keep shooting the bucket! You’ll make it through eventually!” he taunted.

“Shut the fuck up, get out here, and fight like a man!” one of the thugs yelled back.

Allen peeked around the corner and looked around for anything he could use to distract the thugs, squeezing off a few rounds to scare them. Looking up, he noticed a bundle of steel pipes suspended from a crane truck that had survived the chaos its larger cousin had caused.

“That’ll work.” he said to no one in particular.

He quickly ducked back as rounds began striking the bucket again, then backed up as far as he could while still remaining in the cover of the bucket. The coupling connecting the crane’s hook to its cables came into view, and he fired at it. It managed to take three shots before finally shattering, allowing its load to drop and scatter loudly on the ground below.

By the time the pipes hit the ground, Allen was already back in his prior position next to the dump truck. As soon as he heard his enemies shouting in panic, he spun around the bucket, sighted, and emptied his clip into every knee, thigh, and shoulder he saw.

He stood there for a moment, looking at each of the thugs as they nursed their various debilitations. Then he reloaded his pistol and walked back to his two friends.

Skeeter finished patching up Twilight with a rough, improvised bandage just as he got there. He looked back as Allen approached. “Ya get ‘em?”

“Yeah.” replied Allen. “We shouldn’t have any problems leaving.”

“Well then, I’ma leave before the cops get here. Stay safe ya’ll.” he replied, tossing his jack back into the bed.

Allen nodded and looked over at Twilight, who was trying to rub the feeling back into her legs after being pinned by the crane section for so long. “How are you doing?”

She looked up at him. “A few hours ago, I found out my roommate is a hired killer; possibly having something to do with the death of his parents. I try to take a walk to help me figure out how I should feel about this, and I get ambushed and incapacitated by armed thugs for the second time this week, wake up to discover that I’m trapped by a piece of destroyed construction equipment, and almost get shot in the face.” She took a breath and shrugged. “All that considered, I think I’m actually doing quite well.”

“Great.” he replied, offering her a gloved hand. “Then get in the car, let’s go home, and I’ll give you a proper bandage and tell you a little story about how highschool sophomore Allen Flynt became an assassin-for-hire.”

Twilight accepted the hand and he hauled her up, then the two of them got in the Mach 1 and set off for home.

“You’re really going to tell me? Everything?” she asked.

“Yes.” Allen replied shortly.

“Why now?”

He took a deep breath before answering. “Because I need someone to tell me, truthfully, whether I can be forgiven for what I’ve done. And right now, you’re the only one with the ability to judge me fairly.”

Twilight was taken slightly aback. “What about Skeeter?”

“He’s too-” he began, but suddenly stopped and straightened up in his seat. Twilight stared at him, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.

“Allen?”

“Keep quiet and stare straight ahead. We’re surrounded.”

Twilight did as she was told, but couldn’t help glancing out of her window to see what the fuss was about. Then she saw them, and her breath caught in her throat.

Two other cars were driving slightly ahead of them, the passengers of each aiming guns at them. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw another, larger vehicle directly behind them. A man with a much larger gun aimed at them through the sunroof.

“Can you push them away from us?” Allen asked.

“No, not after what happened at the construction site. I don’t have any energy left.” she replied nervously. “Where are we going?”

“No idea.” he replied. “I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”

Author's Note

Miss me? :moustache:
Sorry for vanishing everybody, but I have a very good reason for not updating in nearly a month: life. In just a month I have succeeded in purposely getting myself fired from McDonalds (by the way, never take a job at Mcdonalds), I managed to secure a new job, and I succeeded in dodging my parents on Thanksgiving (don't ask). You could say that I've had a very eventful November.
Shenanigans aside, I want to thank all of the people who stuck by me this long. Please take this longer-than-average chapter as a token of my gratitude and as an apology for making you wait so long.
As usual, be sure to leave a comment and click that thumbs-up if you enjoyed.
Thanks everyone! :twilightsmile:
P.S.-Indenting's a bitch.

Ch.14-Black and White

Simmons paced anxiously in front of the small armada of vehicles, checking his watch every now and again. What the hell is taking so long?

This opportunity was simply too good to screw up. Not only had the anomaly and Ghost both come out of hiding, but they’d practically advertised their location and made it nearly impossible for his men not to find them. If Ghost managed to take the anomaly and disappear again, he’d never forgive himself for his incompetence. He’d simply hand his badge to the nearest agent and retire right there, in the middle of the twilit Nevada desert.

For the third time in the last ten minutes, he looked down at the radio in his hand and prayed for a call from the team he’d sent after them. He stared at it for a moment, then put it back into his pocket.

“Jackson to Captain Simmons, Jackson to Simmons.”

The radio practically flew back out of his pocket. “This is Simmons. Report.”

“Target has been captured. Moving to rendezvous.”

Simmons grinned excitedly. “Understood.”

He put the walkie away again and punched the air several times. The soldiers nearest him looked at him and took a few steps back, but he didn’t care. It was pretty much mission accomplished at this point. Even if by some miracle Ghost managed to escape them again and get back to the city, there was no way in hell he’d make it back to the Southern district. The anomaly was theirs, and his position in the Cabinet was guaranteed.

His phone slid out of his pocket and he scrolled through his contacts until he found the one belonging to Myles. He’d barely put the device to his ear before the dial tone ended.

“Did you get her?” Myles asked excitedly.

“We got her. It’s in the bag, well and truly.” Simmons responded calmly.

“YES!” he screamed triumphantly. “FUCK YOU GHOST! YOU AIN’T SNEAKY ENOUGH FOR ME!”

“Dude! Easy!” Simmons said loudly, rubbing his ear.

“Sorry, this took way longer than I thought it was going to. I was actually starting to think we wouldn’t be able to pull it off.”

“Seriously man? Why on Earth would you ever think that?”

“I was weak, I’m sorry!” the computer junkie whined.

Simmons chuckled quietly, and Myles continued. “Hey, by the way, you better not go silent in the White House. If you disappear, I swear to God I will hack your Facebook and make you very unpopular.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Simmons said with a smile. “So what are you going to do with all your new funding?”

“Become the single most dangerous man on the planet. Seriously…with all the new hardware I’ll be able to afford now, I’ll be able to start a war while kicking back and drinking a latte.”

“That’s…actually quite disconcerting.”

“Relax, will you? I already have the ability to hack the nuclear arsenal of both the U.S. and Cuba, but you don’t see me using it, do you?”

“You just told me to relax, then told me something that makes me extremely afraid of you.”

“Oh…huh. Whoops.”

There was a long, tense silence between the two friends.

“Myles, don’t ever change.” Simmons said with a smile.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Myles replied.

Simmons suddenly looked over as four pairs of headlights appeared in the distance. “Hey, here they come. I’ll get back to you.”

“Good luck.” Myles replied before hanging up.

Simmons put the phone back in his pocket and took a position front and center of the small fleet of cars to wait for the smaller party to arrive. He watched the Ghost pull to a stop about thirty feet away, the escort that had brought him here spreading out behind him to form a makeshift blockade, ensuring that he wouldn’t try to make a break for it. The machine gunner kept his LMG trained on the fixer as he got out and walked to the front of his car to lean casually against the hood.

Simmons realized that this was the first time he’d actually seen the Ghost, and thought distantly that the name suited him well. The long black coat and the hat which shaded his eyes, both coupled with the dark gray scarf which hid his face, gave off the vaguest impression that he’d just left his own funeral. As he sat against the hood of his car, Simmons couldn’t help but notice how very unperturbed he seemed, as if nothing they did to him could possibly affect him.

Simmons smiled inwardly at the prospect of showing him just how wrong he was.

He put his hands in his pockets and walked toward the fixer, stopping about ten feet away. The other man simply stared at him, his black eyes scanning him for weakness.

For a long while, both men continued to simply stare each other down, then Simmons decided to break the silence.

“So…you’re the little rascal who’s managed to give my boys the slip twice in a row.”

“And you must be the starchy who’s been making my life so difficult for the past few days.” Ghost replied.

Simmons nodded with a small smile. “Captain Simmons.”

“Ghost, though you probably already knew that.”

“Correct.” He glanced behind the masked man and frowned at the girl in the passenger seat. “Aren’t you going to ask your friend to join us?”

“She’s fine right where she is.” Ghost replied, an implicit warning evident in his tone.

Simmons raised an eyebrow. “Careful now. Don’t forget who’s in control of the situation.”

“Oh, I’m perfectly aware of who’s in control around here.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the other man’s overconfidence. “A gambling man, are we?”

The fixer shook his head. “I hate gambling. Gambling’s for fools with too much money and not enough sense. I prefer games that take actual skill, like chess.”

“I see.” he said, registering the unspoken challenge.

The Ghost continued. “I’d also prefer to know why I’m here.”

Simmons frowned in confusion. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Not really.” The other man gestured toward the dark-haired girl in the car. “I know why she’s here, but what do you need me for, exactly?”

“Well, I could’ve just had you killed, but I didn’t for two reasons. One, that’s not my style. Two, if I’d done that, ET over there would’ve started tossing my men around like water balloons.”

Simmons noticed the other man’s eyes widen slightly, then return to their previous state. He wondered for a moment what that had meant.

“So you know what she is and where she’s from, and you’re still hunting her like a fucking animal?” Ghost asked, interrupting the agent’s thoughts.

“Well, of course. She’s an interdimensional terrorist. Why wouldn’t I?”

For a moment, the Ghost simply stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”

“My commanding officer was part of the organization that had to cover up the last ‘incident’ her people caused. She’s a threat to national security, and he wants her detained so we can figure out how to launch a counterattack and take care of these maniacs once and for all.”

“What exactly did he tell you?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Well, if what you’re saying is true, then I should just hand this chick over to you right now.”

Simmons considered his response for a moment, then shrugged. “You’re familiar with the multiverse theory, correct?”

“Vaguely. I haven’t read much into it, but I know enough to get by.”

“Alright. According to what my boss knows, that theory is mostly true. The difference between the theory and the truth, however, is that we aren’t the only universe capable of creating variant universes. The reason she’s here is because she used the Breach network, which serves as a bridge across dimensional barriers. Before he met-”

“Stop.” Ghost ordered. Simmons complied, slightly annoyed at being interrupted. “How the hell does your boss know all that?”

“He worked for the organization that-”

“Who he worked for doesn’t explain such in-depth knowledge of a subject that still has the world’s greatest minds scratching their heads. I already know about the Breach network from my friend in the car, but she knows what she does because she studied the actual gate.”

Simmons raised an eyebrow at that. “What’re you saying?”

“You know damn well what I’m saying.”

Simmons did, in fact, know what the assassin was saying. He refused to believe it however.

“Maybe he learned about it from the first of these creatures to arrive here.”

“If that ‘creature’ was really a terrorist, do you honestly think they’d give your boss such sensitive information?”

“Sensitive?”

Ghost sighed. “Let’s say you’re right. Your boss had no prior knowledge of the truth about the multiverse theory. Then this magic-wielding terrorist poofs into existence, tells him exactly where he came from, and starts trying to kill people. You tell me how much sense that makes.”

Simmons had to admit that Ghost had a point. One of the most important factors in running a successful terrorist organization was discretion. If you went around singing and broadcasting your location, the whole world would be kicking down your front door in a matter of minutes.

He pushed away the doubts creeping into his mind. There had to be a reasonable explanation for Remus’ secrecy.

“Remus has always had this country’s best interests in mind.”

“So have you.” Ghost countered. “If your interests are the same as his, then why is he lying to you?”

Simmons opened his mouth to retort, then realized he didn’t have one.

“Need some help? Your boss lied to you, which means the guy he killed wasn’t a terrorist. By extension, that means my friend over there isn’t a terrorist. So what does he really want her for? Who’s the real terrorist?”

Simmons suddenly glared at him. “Says the man who’s killed over two hundred innocent civilians in the past three years. What do you want her for, exactly?”

“I’m trying to keep her safe from this city and the government-funded tools your boss sent to capture her.” Ghost replied heatedly.

“You? Keep her safe?” Simmons said with a laugh. “You’re a fixer! A mass murderer for crying out loud! The only reason she’s not dead yet is because no one’s paid you to kill her!”

Ghost’s left eye twitched in response, and he stood up. “And you think you’re any better, captain? Why, because you work for the federal government?”

Simmons took a step forward. “It’s my job to-”

“Your job!?” Ghost repeated, also taking a step closer. “Your job is to follow orders and whack who they tell you to whack without making a fucking scene! You know what the difference is between you and me? Where we get our money!”

They were only about five feet apart now and getting closer.

“I think it’s pretty obvious who the better man is here, don’t you think?” Simmons retorted, still advancing. “Probably the guy who doesn’t have to hide his face behind a scarf like some street rat of a mugger.”

“You mean the guy about to cart an innocent woman off to God-only-knows-where and torture her for information on how to get to her home country and commit genocide on her people?” Ghost spat in return. “Yeah, sounds like a real hero.”

There was a moment’s pause, then Simmons started walking away.

“You know what?” he said calmly. “I don’t even know why I’m having this conversation. I could’ve had you killed and been on my way ten minutes ago.”

“I know why.” Ghost said smugly. “It’s because you know I’m right.”

Simmons stopped moving.

“You’ve spent the last ten minutes trying to get me to say otherwise, but you know I’m right. You know the only terrorist in this situation is you.”

Simmons spun and closed the distance between them in a few strides, grabbing the shorter man by his jacket. “You’re playing a dangerous game, kiddo.” he growled.

“So are you. The difference is I’m winning.”

“Really?” he replied with a smile. “Doesn’t look that way to me.”

“Then I guess you’ve just forgotten what we’re playing.”

Now Simmons was confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You know how you win a game of chess? You take control of the game. You force your opponent to make moves that will benefit you in the end. If you play the game right, by the time he realizes what’s going on…”

Simmons felt the lightest tug inside his jacket and looked down to see Ghost slip his pistol out of its holster and press it into his chest. His eyes widened as he looked back up at the Ghost.

“…it’ll already be too late.”

((((((*******))))))

The captain suddenly reeled from an uppercut before being pulled back, Allen’s arm around his neck and the gun now against his temple. The agents surrounding them suddenly raised their guns to aim at him, but they didn’t dare fire for fear of hitting their leader.

Allen grinned under his mask as he addressed the soldiers surrounding them. “Alright, fellas! Here’s how this is going to work! You’re all going to drop your guns and go sit by that bush over there!” He gestured toward a desert shrub a good distance away, then returned his attention to the soldiers. “Don’t do what I say or try to be a hero, and your commanding officer is a dead man!”

One by one, every one of the armed gunmen tossed their various firearms onto the sandy desert plain, then walked over to the aforementioned shrub and sat down. The Allen watched as every last one did as they were told, turning around to make sure the group that had captured them was also following instructions.

Once the last man had taken his place by the bush, Ghost half-dragged Simmons over to the passenger side of the car and opened the door.

“Get in the back seat.” he told a wide-eyed Twilight. She complied, and he none-too-gently shoved Simmons inside and shut the door. He kept the gun trained on him as he walked around to the other side, got in, and started the car. Then he turned back to Twilight.

“If he moves, set him on fire.”

“I-” Twilight began, then paused at a wink from Allen. “I…thought you wanted him drenched in acid.”

“Either or. Doesn’t really matter.” he replied as he drove out of the circle of cars and headed back for the city.

Desert sand gradually gave way to grass and asphalt the closer they got to Vegas. Twilight did her best impression of a hungry cat as she watched Simmons, who in turn stared at her like some scared rodent.

Finally, after about ten minutes, Allen picked the gun back up and pressed it against the bridge of the captain’s nose, making his eyes cross.

“I’ve got good news and bad news, boss. The bad news is that I can’t risk you and your boys finding out where I live, which means your usefulness has just come to an end.”

Simmons’ face lost all color at those words.

“The good news is that I don’t want to kill you, so I’m just going to ask you to get the hell out of my car.”

The color returned to Simmons face as he waited for Allen to stop the car, then relief was replaced with confusion when he didn’t. “Um…”

“I believe I said get out.” Allen growled as he pressed the gun barrel against the man’s right eye. “Now.”

Simmons opened the door and watched the road fly past his feet for a moment, then turned around to look at him one more time. “Are you sure this isn’t going to-”

Twilight suddenly raised her hand, and he leapt out and rolled to lessen the impact. Allen watched him disappear in his rearview as Twilight slid back into the front seat and shut the door. “Well…that was exciting.”

“I’ll say. Nice acting by the way.”

“Thanks.” she replied, then turned to stare out the window. “So…home then?”

“Not yet.” Allen replied seriously, causing her to turn and raise an eyebrow at him. “The agents we just drove away from couldn’t have been more than a fraction of the whole operation. That captain’s not an idiot. He didn’t want to put all of his eggs in one basket in case we managed to get away.”

“Which means the rest are on their way.” Twilight finished with a sigh. “You don't think you can make it back to the Southern district before they find us?”

“Maybe, but I don’t want to risk someone following me in. That’ll put-”

Suddenly, a maroon sports car shot out of an alleyway to his left, the woman in the passenger seat drawing her pistol and aiming at his rear tire. Allen slammed on the brakes and rammed the other car, sending it careening into a different alleyway before flooring it and heading north.

“Well that was fast!” he said angrily. He looked over at Twilight and saw her gripping her seat tightly. “You might want to get used to that. I’m probably going to have to do that a lot.”

“You’re kidding, right?” she asked in a panic.

“Nope. Sweetheart, you’re in for the ride of your life.”

She stared at him for a moment, then turned as she noticed more cars fall in behind them, one of which happened to be the SUV from earlier.

Suddenly, more than ever, she wished she could just go home.

Author's Note

I think I'm about caught up now.
You remember that gap I told you about a couple chapters ago? I'm about to hit it. So be prepared for a moderate to huge gap between chapters. Sorry.
In the meantime, remember to comment and hit that like button.
Thanks guys! :twilightsmile:
P.S.-I also request that you show Punished Yamsmos some support, because he's going through some things right now and I think he needs it.

Ch.15-A Casual Late-Night Vegas Drive

Jesse locked the door to her shop as she left, then went and sat on a nearby bench to wait for her boyfriend to pick her up. She wrapped her coat a little tighter around herself, then searched through her purse until she found a small bottle of pepper spray.

Vegas was a dangerous place to be, especially at night. Jesse had found that out firsthand shortly after moving here, when she’d been forced down an alleyway by a man wielding a knife. She’d gotten lucky that time, however, as a nearby police officer had seen the two of them walk into the alleyway. He’d arrested the would-be rapist on the spot and advised that she take a self-defense course. Along with taking his advice, she’d begun carrying around a bottle of spray everywhere she went. She was as prepared as anyone could possibly be without carrying a firearm. Even so, late night in Vegas still scared her.

She hummed quietly as she sat there, trying to dispel the nervousness she felt as she sat waiting. She worked as a florist, and had received a rather large order for a wedding earlier that day. The money made the job well worth it, as well as the fact that she really enjoyed working with flowers. But neither made it easier to endure the fear that gripped her after the sun went down.

She suddenly tensed up as an odd rumbling noise met her ears. She looked down the road in the direction of the sound, gripping the bottle tightly as she realized it was an engine. No, wait…several engines. She stood up, squinting through the darkness as she tried to make out the source of the commotion.

Said source was revealed as a jet-black muscle car came sliding around the bend and flew past her, catching her long hair in its tailwind. She looked back the way it had come and bolted for the cover of her store as about a dozen other cars flew like jets after the muscle car, their occupants leaning out of windows and firing guns at it. A few lost control and spun out, one taking out the bench she’d been sitting on. They quickly recovered, though, and resumed their pursuit.

Jesse cautiously peeked out of the door. She watched the cars as they disappeared around another corner, silently wondering what the driver of the muscle car had done to piss off so many people.

((((((*******))))))

“Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh, OHMYGOSH!!” Twilight screamed in terror, furiously gripping her seat as Allen drifted around a corner.

Allen said nothing, as he was too busy trying to keep the two of them alive. He looked behind them to see how many were still on their tail.

“Dammit.” he growled.

“What!?” Twilight said in a panicky voice.

“Well, I was trying to lose some of them in that turn we just took, but all I did was slow them down a bit.”

“You can do this, right?” she asked hopefully. “I mean, you must have done this a million times before. Right?”

“Wrong. I do my best to avoid situations like this. Sure, I can drive better than a majority of Vegas, but I’ve only been in a situation like this one other time.”

“Great! How did you survive?”

He sighed heavily. “Not right now.”

“What did you do?” Twilight asked again, slightly more insistent. She was tired of him not telling her things.

“I’ll explain it when-”

He was interrupted as the rear window suddenly shattered into a million pieces, causing both of the car’s occupants to jump almost a foot out of their seats.

“SHIT!” he yelled, picking up the pistol he’d looted from Simmons and firing behind them. Twilight heard a few screeches and crashes from her position below the window as his bullets popped the tires of any enemies who got too close. “You know, it would have been nice if you had at least let me know you were leaving!” he yelled angrily.

Twilight rounded on him in an instant. “Yeah!? Well it would’ve also been nice if I’d found out about your ‘job’ from you instead of the local news network!

“How long are you gonna keep playing that card, huh!? Allen retorted.

“UNTIL YOU EXPLAIN TO ME HOW IN EQUESTRIA YOU BECAME A HIRED KILLER!!” she raged.

“I TOLD YOU I’D EXPLAIN EVERYTHING WHEN-!!”

Their bickering was abruptly cut off by a bullet slicing through his left cheek. Twilight began leaning away from him as he looked past her at the Lamborghini to their right, his left eye twitching.

“PISS OFF AND STOP SHOOTING UP MY CAR!!” he roared as he swerved into the Lamborghini and sent it smashing into a light pole. He then slammed on the brakes, allowing two more of their pursuers to shoot past him. Before they could react, he slammed into the right one’s rear tire and popped the left one’s tire with the pistol. He turned to watch with an angry grin as they swerved and slammed into each other, one spinning out and the other completely flipping over.

“Fucking assholes…” he fumed, turning back around.

Twilight sat up. “So, are you just going to keep driving and shooting or do you actually have a plan?”

Allen took another sharp turn onto a highway, causing her to grip the seat in terror. She then glared at him accusingly. He did that on purpose.

He continued on as though he hadn’t noticed her reaction. “I’m taking us to the northern district.” he explained. “It’s practically a maze in there, what with all the back alleys and side streets and everything. If we make it there, I might be able to lose these guys.”

His tone made her nervous. “You don’t sound too confident about that plan.”

He gave her a worried look. “It’s a really big ‘if’. First we have to-”

Suddenly an explosion rocked the car, and the whole thing began leaning heavily to the right.

“God dammit! Can’t I finish a damn sentence tonight!?” he raged as he fought to control the unstable muscle car.

“What just happened!?” Twilight asked, panic growing.

“They popped one of my rear tires!” he yelled, now just as panicky. “We’ll never make it to financial this way!”

She peeked through her window at the back tire. Sure enough, there was a double trail of sparks coming from the now exposed rim, swinging back and forth like a fish tail as Allen fought to maintain control of the metal beast.

Twilight considered the wheel for a moment, then stretched her hand out towards it. A smile crossed her face as the pink aura surrounded her hand, then disappeared as the aura flickered like a candle about to go out. I hope I have enough magic for this. she thought to herself.

Allen dropped the empty pistol, extracted his own, and turned to aim out the back window in preparation for a desperate last stand against the army of federal agents behind them.

Suddenly, the whole car lurched and sped up, and Allen found it much easier to control. He looked first at the road before them, then at Twilight.

“Did you just…?” He trailed off as he noticed how exhausted she was. “Jesus Christ! Are you alright!?”

“I’ll be fine. Just…try not to lose…another tire.” she said, then immediately passed out.

Allen turned back to the road. Think man, THINK!

There was still another couple miles of highway to go, during which they would be completely exposed. He looked in his mirror and saw the vast federal armada speeding down the narrow highway, ready to tear the Mach 1 to pieces. One of them tried to pit him, and he gently braked and shoved him into an exit.

He looked back into the mirror at their pursuers. If he could create a pileup, they might be able to make it to financial in one piece. But he needed a lot of cars for that, and the feds were only coming at him two or three cars at a time, obviously trying to avoid the very situation that he wanted to create.

“That’s fine. You won’t come to me, so I’ll have to come to you.” Allen said, dropping the pistol and gripping the wheel with both hands.

The feds behind him swerved out of the way as he suddenly slammed on the brakes, allowing them to shoot past. He started to rapidly swerve left and right, trying to cause as much chaos as possible. The cars surrounding him tried to avoid being rammed, but there was no avoiding the speeding Mustang or the force behind it. Cars were slammed into walls, into each other, and a few even made it over the divide into the oncoming lane.

After a few seconds of this, Allen shifted gears and quickly pulled out of the rapidly-forming junk heap before it could sweep them up. He took a look behind them and slapped the wheel triumphantly, grinning ear-to-ear behind his mask as he watched the feds repeatedly crash into each other far behind them, cars flipping over and flying through the air in a beautifully choreographed display of destruction.

He admired the scene for another few seconds, then turned back to the road and sped off toward the main city. The feds wouldn’t stay down for long, but Allen would be well hidden by the time they resumed the chase.

((((((*******))))))

Jeff sat up, holding his head. He’d realized too late what the Ghost was about to do, and had been forced to endure the experience of having five cars doing one-twenty each slam into his car at almost the exact same time.

He looked over at the driver’s side and found Carl slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious. He reached over and gave him a gentle shake.

“Carl! Carl, wake up!” he said loudly.

“Ugghhhh…” Carl groaned weakly. “I can’t feel anything below my neck.”

“What!?” Jeff said, instantly panicking.

“Oooowwwwwwwww.” Carl continued with a pained hiss. “Never mind.”

Jeff sighed in relief. “Don’t fucking do that.”

“Sorry.”

Jeff shook his head to clear it and reached for the radio on the floor. “Team one is down. Team two, move to intercept target in the financial district. Refer to Avalon for exact location. And medical team, rendezvous at my position on highway twelve.”

He heard a loud groan from his left.

“Bring a couple boxes of aspirin, please.”

((((((*******))))))

Allen heard a groan from his right and looked over to see Twilight sitting up and holding her head.

“So how was your nap?” he asked.

Twilight ignored the joke as she held her head. “Why does the right side of my head hurt so much?”

Allen scratched the back of his neck. “I, uh…I made a pileup to stop the feds. I was swerving all over the place, so your head might have hit the doorframe a few times.”

“Oh, alright.” she said, too concerned with her slowly-dying headache to even care.

Allen looked back at her.

“You feeling any better?” he asked.

“A little, except for my head. Why?”

“Because right after you fixed my tire you passed out cold. I’m not exactly sure what happens when you run out of magic, but that did not look healthy. At all.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” she said with a small smile.

Allen smiled back behind his mask, then noticed movement in his rear-view mirror. He turned around to look behind them and noticed an SUV turning onto the street behind them.

“What’s wrong?” asked Twilight, also looking back and noticing the large armored vehicle. “Is that them?”

“Yeah, but how did they find us that fast? Wait, what the hell is-?” He suddenly cut himself off as a man rose through the sunroof aimed his LMG at them. “SHIT!!”

Twilight suddenly found herself pressed flat against the seat as Allen bolted down a side street to avoid the sudden burst of machine gun fire that lit up the area where they’d been a second before.

“I thought you lost them!” Twilight said loudly.

“So did I!” Allen replied, then facepalmed. “Oh fuck, I’m an idiot.”

“What?” Twilight asked.

“They have a hacker with them. That’s the only way they could have known exactly where we were.”

“Alright, what’s a hacker?” asked a confused Twilight.

“They’re computer junkies who know how to bypass the security for the operating systems of all kinds of technology. Data archives, electric generators, private computers, cameras…nothing is safe from a professional hacker. They’re watching us through the street cameras.” He turned onto another street, and they were met by more Lamborghinis. “God dammit!” he said angrily, quickly turning and speeding off with the feds in hot pursuit.

The SUV suddenly pulled out up ahead. Allen pulled his pistol back out and fired three shots at the tires. His jaw dropped when nothing happened, then the soldier with the machine gun opened fire, forcing him to turn down another side street.

“Dammit!” Allen said again. “They’re herding me toward that SUV!”

“Why didn’t your gun do anything?” Twilight asked.

“Their tires must be bulletproof.” Noticing the confused look on her face, he elaborated. “Normal tires are basically rubber tubes filled with air, which are easy to puncture. Bulletproof tires are just solid rubber, which makes blowouts almost impossible. I’m willing to bet the windows are bulletproof, too.”

“Great…so what do we do?”

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking…” he said. Suddenly the SUV popped up on their left, close enough for Allen to get a good look at it. The cocky bastard in the gunner’s port was now waving at him, machine gun aimed at his head.

For a moment, Allen simply stared back. He knew exactly how to take care of the SUV’s occupants, but it was a risky maneuver which could very well end in him dying horribly. That’s been happening way too often lately.

He pulled right up next to the larger machine and holstered his pistol. “Hey, Twilight?”

“What?” she asked.

This makes the top of the list of things I never thought I’d say to her. “Take the wheel.”

“What!?” she exclaimed. Allen said nothing else, instead opening his door and leaping onto the side of the SUV.

“WHAT THE HAY DO YOU THINK YOU’RE-EEEEEK!!” Twilight suddenly screamed and grabbed the wheel to keep the car from smashing into a building, then scrambled into the driver’s seat.

“Okay, okay…nothing to worry about. How hard could driving this thing be?” she said, attempting to calm down enough to figure out how to operate the giant hunk of metal on wheels. She stared in confusion at the pedals by her feet. Why are there three pedals if it only goes backwards and forwards!?

“Nothing to worry about.” she said, confidence returning as she cautiously stepped on one of the pedals. “So…this makes it go for-”

The tires screeched and she abruptly began to lose speed, one of the feds behind her swerving to avoid her maniacal driving. She immediately took her foot off the brake and floored the accelerator.

“Never mind. That makes it go forward.” She corrected herself, panting slightly. “Alright, and now gently left-AAAAAAAGH!!”

She screamed as she suddenly swung left and collided with a car full of feds who had tried to take advantage of Allen’s absence by snatching her out of the car. “GENTLER!!” she screeched as she straightened out. She looked back at her pursuer spinning out behind her and grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry!” she said with a wave, before hastily putting her other hand back on the wheel and searching for Allen.

The SUV had made considerable headway while she’d been busy learning how to control the car and, although the massive vehicle had begun to swerve slightly, she’d never catch up at the speed she was going right now. As she tried to figure out how to go faster, she became aware of a loud rumbling coming from up front. Her eyes shot wide open in realization as she looked down at stick beside her, remembering that Allen would reposition it whenever the car started making that noise.

She attempted to emulate his actions, and was rewarded as the Mach 1 lurched slightly and sped up, eating up the distance between her and the SUV.

Her hands tightened on the wheel and stick, and she did it again. She grinned with delight as the car roared and sped after the enemy vehicle.

“Ohmygosh! Ohmygosh! I’m driving! I’M DRIVING!” she shrieked excitedly.

((((((*******))))))

Allen landed on the SUV and immediately raised his hand to catch the butt of the machine gun as the gunner tried to knock him off. The passenger door ahead of him swung open and he kicked the soldier in the head before he could point a gun at him. He turned back to the gunner and, bracing himself against the side of the van, yanked the machine gun away and let it fall to the rapidly moving road beneath him with a clatter.

He noticed the soldier in the passenger seat coming back for another go, and immediately grabbed the gunner by the neck with his left hand and drew his knife with the other. He aimed a light slash at the soldier’s neck, where there was a gap between the helmet and shoulder armor, and was rewarded with a scream of pain from the man.

He turned back to the struggling gunner, brought the knife up, and sliced through the strap securing his helmet to his head. He pulled the helmet off and let it disappear behind them, then reversed his grip on the knife.

“NOT SO COCKY NOW, ARE YOU!?” he yelled over the sound of rushing air, then slammed the brass into the man’s temple. As he slumped over the top of the car, Allen sheathed the knife and brought his pistol back out.

Just as he was about to engage the driver, he heard a loud smash behind him and turned to see a dark green Cadillac spinning away, the Mach 1 quickly recovering from its attack.

He stared for a moment, stunned. Where the hell did she learn how to drive like that?

He shook his head and turned back to the SUV, leaning into the passenger door. The driver took out his pistol too late, and Allen shot both of his forearms. “Where’s your bullet-proof glass now, buddy?” he jeered.

He holstered the gun and waited for Twilight to pull even with them, then hopped onto the door. She scooted back into the passenger seat, and he slid back into the driver seat and quickly turned down an alleyway.

He turned to Twilight. “How the hell did you learn how to drive like that?” he asked, still amazed.

“Mostly trial and error. By the way, if you ever throw me into the deep end like that again, I’ll turn you into an orange and eat you.”

He gave her a look. “Oh please, you can’t tell me that wasn’t fun.”

“It most certainly was not!” she said angrily.

He continued to stare at her disbelievingly.

“At least not at first.” she said after a moment.

He shifted gears as he turned back to the road. “Uh-huh…”

“Back to the matter at hand, how do we escape someone who can see our every move?”

Allen didn’t answer, instead retrieving his phone from his coat pocket.

“Allen?” Twilight asked.

“There’s only one person in all of Vegas who can help us right now, and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to talk to them until Monday.” Allen answered as he put the phone to his ear.

“Who?”

“My boss.”

The dial tone only rang once before the Administrator’s artificial voice answered. “I was wondering when you were going to call me.”

“Cram the jokes, because we have a huge problem.”

“Yeah, you’re playing chauffer to a chick that can turn armed thugs into farm animals.”

“And the feds are after her. They have a hacker and they’re watching my every move through the street cameras. How strong a jam can you make without breaking my phone?”

“How strong do you need it?” they asked.

“Honestly, I need you to shut down the financial district, at minimum.” Allen replied.

He heard what sounded like a snort on the other end. “Yeah. Right. You’d probably lose your ear if I tried that.”

“Dammit. Then we only have one other op-”

“No.” The Administrator answered before he could finish.

“Admin-”

“Absolutely fucking not!” they interrupted again, anger slipping past the voice morpher.

“Listen to me-”

“No, you listen to me!” they interjected angrily. “I’m still having nightmares about the last time we used it! Do you have any idea what it’s like to hear hundreds of people screaming out in pain, all accusing you of murdering them!?”

Allen remained silent for a moment, then replied in deceptively calm voice, “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

They instantly fell silent. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” Allen replied coldly as he made a sharp turn onto the main road. “It’s different this time. There’s a lot more at stake than just my identity. If the feds catch her, there's a good chance that they'll start a war they can't win."

The Administrator sighed resignedly. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Let me know when you’re ready.” Allen said, then hung up and set the phone on the dashboard.

“What’s going on?” asked Twilight.

“We’re losing the feds.” he replied shortly. Twilight watched as he turned off the headlights.

“How is-” she was interrupted as the mirror to her right exploded. Allen shot down another alley in an attempt to dodge the hailstorm of bullets. Twilight looked behind them, paling as she counted all of the cars currently chasing them. “Um…Allen!?” she warned, voice shaking from fear.

“I know. Just hang on.” Allen said calmly. She turned to look at him, wondering how he could be so calm all of a sudden, and noted the look of pained determination he now wore.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

He hesitated before answering. “Do you know why I didn’t tell you about how I escaped last time? Or, as a matter of fact, how I became a fixer to begin with?”

“Why?” she asked, wondering why he was bringing this up now of all times.

“Because what I did brought about the deaths of several hundred innocent people, and for the past three years, I’ve been trying my hardest to forget that fact.”

Twilight stared at him, not sure how to respond.

Suddenly his phone rang again, and he quickly snatched it up and answered. “Is it ready?”

“God forgive us.” The Administrator replied sadly.

“It won’t be as bad as last time.” Allen reassured them as he turned back onto the main road. “You know they took precautions against it in case it happened again.”

“Yeah. Precautions for hospitals and other inpatient facilities. Not people stuck in their homes.”

“We can’t ask for much more right now.” Allen replied.

Suddenly a fed slammed into their rear and sent them fishtailing all over the road. Allen managed to recover and rammed the enemy car in return, sending it careening into a shop. He looked back and noticed two more SUVs behind the army of smaller cars.

“We’re out of time, Admin! Is it ready or not!?” Allen asked in a panic.

“Standing by.” they replied.

He took a deep breath. “Then throw it.”

At first Twilight didn’t notice anything other than a distant ‘boom’, and started to wonder what Allen and his boss were so afraid of. Then the lights started to flicker all around them.

“What’s-” she began, but fell silent just as quickly.

((((((*******))))))

Jeff was sitting in the back of a large van letting a medic attend to a nasty gash on his forehead. All around him, fellow agents were either attending to each other’s wounds or being carried out on stretchers. A few were even trying to drive whatever cars still worked away from the pileup.

Suddenly he heard what sounded like a distant explosion.

“Did you hear that?” he asked the medic.

“Yeah, what was-” she suddenly stopped. “Holy crap! Look at the city!”

Jeff looked and saw every light in the city flicking on and off at random. “What the hell is-” he started.

And then he heard it.

He heard the sound that had marked the deaths of over five hundred people three years ago.

It was a sound unlike any he had ever heard before, one that made his blood run cold and made every heart in or near the city forget to beat.

It was the sound of Las Vegas screaming in agony.

Author's Note

Happy Holidays! Have another long chapter! :pinkiesmile:
I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far, because apparently some people aren't as I recently hit 7 dislikes. :trixieshiftleft: I don't get what the deal is, but I won't let it bother me. :pinkiehappy:
Next chapter will probably come after Christmas/Hanukkah/whatever the heck you're celebrating at this time of year. :pinkiecrazy:
Remember to comment, give me a thumbs-up, and to have a merry holiday and a happy New Year's.
Peace! :twilightsmile:
P.S.- Did you guess the reference?

Ch.16-Frankenstein's Monster (Part 1-Creation)

It was dark.

It was quiet.

For the first time in almost three years, the streets of Vegas were devoid of life.

Even the people coming out of bars and casinos were too scared to break the silence, because for the first time since that fateful day three years ago, the entire city was dead. Streetlights, traffic lights, apartment buildings, ATMs,…everything was dead. The city of Las Vegas, famous for its bright lights and big casinos, now lay comatose.

The only sound to be heard in the sleeping streets was the rumble of an engine as one of the men responsible desperately sought out a hiding place.

“Allen, what-”

“I’ll explain everything once we have a decent hiding spot.”

“Why can’t you just take us back to the southern district? Why are we hiding in a city full of federal agents!?” Twilight whispered, compelled to not disturb the silence.

“Because this city’s full of federal agents.” he whispered back. “Even with the all the ones I took out on the highway, there’s still enough roaming around that I might accidentally bump into one. If that happens, we’ll be running for our lives again and all of this will have been for nothing.”

Suddenly, one of the armored SUVs crossed their path a few blocks ahead. Allen quickly turned down another street, praying that they hadn’t been spotted.

For the next few minutes, neither of them made a sound. Allen continued to drive through the pitch-black city in search of a temporary haven, while Twilight simply stared out the window.

Eventually, he turned down the ramp of an underground parking garage and parked in the far back corner behind a minivan. He shut off the engine and then leaned his head back and closed his eyes, removing his mask as he did so.

“So…what did your boss do to the city?” she asked.

Allen took a deep breath. “They hacked into the operating system for the city power grid and uploaded a virus.”

“A virus? Like the common cold?”

“Kind of. A computer virus spreads in about the same way a cold virus does: by corrupting portions of the operating system and using them to reach other, unaffected portions. The virus my boss used was made to shut down the city’s non-vital power supplies, mainly lights and cameras. That way, I’d be able to make a getaway where one would normally be impossible.”

“But that’s not what happened.” Twilight stated.

“No. It isn’t.” He took another deep breath. “The virus programming is so complex that not even they could have predicted what happened the first time we used it.”

“Which was?”

“Instead of just disabling the non-vital power supplies, the virus went haywire and disabled everything. Immediately after its first use, we nicknamed the virus City Slayer, because it literally killed Las Vegas. Lights and cameras went out, sure, but it also caused unexpected collateral damage. At first everyone just noticed the annoying little inconveniences that came with the shutdown. The accounting systems for banks abruptly stopped and lost track of everyone’s money, and the whole city experienced plumbing problems.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he recalled that day from three years ago. “Then news of the really dark consequences started going around. Almost everyone who’d been on life support during the shutdown had died, and certain machinery with electronic safety measures had failed and killed whoever had been unlucky enough to be standing near them.”

Twilight turned to stare out the window at the minivan next to them, hugging herself and silently pitying the victims of the first City Slayer activation.

“The good news is that after we used it the first time, the city began installing countermeasures in case it ever happened again.” he continued. “Backup power generators, emergency cutoffs,…the whole nine yards. There’s no way it will ever be as bad as the first time.”

“Why did you need to use it the first time?” asked Twilight.

Allen didn’t answer.

Twilight turned to look at him and was shocked to see a few tears running down his face. Noticing her look, he quickly wiped his face off and took a deep, shaky breath.

“Earlier, I promised I’d tell you the story of how I became a fixer. Do you still want to hear that story?”

“Yes.” Twilight responded forcefully.

“Are you sure? There are some things in this world that aren’t worth knowing, Twilight. What I’m about to tell you might change the way you think about people. Even after you make it home, you may never see things the same way ever again. So think about your answer carefully.”

“I have, and I need to hear this.”

“Then do me a favor. Two, actually.”

“What?”

“One, don’t stop me. It’ll be easier to get through this if I just keep going. And two, when I finish and you have the whole story, just...” he stopped and took a shaky breath. “Judge me fairly. I need your unbiased opinion.”

She stared at him for a moment as she wondered what he needed her opinion for, then nodded.

He took another breath before he began. “Four years ago, you would not have believed anyone who told you I was going to become a fixer. I wasn’t innocent, of course. No one in this city is. We’ve all done something at one point or another that we shouldn’t have. But while I’ve gotten in my share of fights and done my share of shoplifting, I would never have thought of killing anyone. In fact, I was working on becoming a detective.”

He looked over at Twilight, expecting her to interrupt him. Instead, she kept true to her promise, her only reaction being to stare at him in surprise.

“My family, of course, couldn’t be happier with what I’d chosen to make of myself. My stepdad, being a detective, had seen the horrors of Vegas firsthand every time he went to work, and he was so proud that his adopted son would be combating those horrors right alongside him. My mother still had nightmares about our life before him, and she was just happy that I’d never have to go through anything like that ever again.”

He smiled as he continued. “Then there was my little brother, who just thought I would look awesome in my long black coat. Him and I were the best of friends. We got in and out of so much trouble together.”

Twilight couldn’t resist asking. “Such as?”

He thought for a moment, then chuckled heartily. “We went out for a night on the town this one time, to do all the things siblings do in Vegas. We met up with a few friends of ours, egged the houses of everyone picking on him, chugged ICEEs to see who could go the longest without a brainfreeze…which was almost always him…the usual mischief.”

Twilight was trying hard not to laugh at this. “That’s adorable.”

Allen shrugged, still smiling. “He was my wingman of mayhem. It was us two versus the world, and as far as we could tell, we were winning. Our friendship was really challenged on that night, though. A small Midas group was in the area, lifting radios out of cars, when they were spotted and someone called the cops. Unfortunately, Logan and I were both wearing yellow shirts that night. The cops tried to arrest us, even though we obviously didn’t have any radios on us. So we did what any sensible human being in Vegas would do: we turned tail and hauled ass down an alleyway with the cops in hot pursuit.”

Twilight covered her face with her hands while Allen continued, his voice heavy with nostalgia. “Each of us could have abandoned the other for the cops and gotten away that night scot-free. But we wouldn’t do it. Logan was too young to face the cops alone, and being the older sibling meant it was my job to take the fall for our little escape attempt. He wouldn’t have it, though, because he knew that would damage my chances of getting a job as a detective. So we stuck together and, by some miracle, managed to lose them and get home before Logan’s bedtime.”

Twilight couldn’t help but remember all the trouble she and Shining Armor had gotten into growing up, and smiled warmly at the thought. Then she realized that Allen hadn’t actually explained anything yet.

“As wonderful as your family sounds, I don’t see what they have to do with how you became a fixer.” she said, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

The smile on his face fell abruptly, and he sighed again. “They have everything to do with it. You see, in order to rebuild someone, the first thing you have to do is tear them apart.” He paused. “I was sixteen at the time…”

((((((*******))))))

Past

“No.”

“Yer kiddin’.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“C’mon, man! Ah saw the way she was lookin’ atcha! Ah know that look!”

Allen rolled his eyes. “I saw the way she was looking at me, too. I’ve also seen her look at ten other guys the same way.”

Skeeter sighed. “Ah swear, yall’r gonna die a virgin.”

Allen was leading Skeeter down the worn-down street to his house. It was the last day of their freshman year and Allen’s mom had invited Skeeter over for dinner to celebrate. She had also invited Arnold, but he'd politely declined in favor of catching up on sleep lost to studying.

“Look, there’s no way I’m going for Clara. You know as well as I do that she’s slept with just about every guy in school, and probably some of the girls. She’s a cheap slut who’ll go for anyone she meets, and I’m keeping myself well away from that mess.”

Skeeter shrugged in response. “Fine. More for me.”

Allen gave him a look. Really?

Skeeter saw this and responded a little heatedly. “Look man, Ah can’t afford to be choosy like ya’ll. Ya’ll are workin’ on bein’ a detective, and I’m just a mechanic. Ya’ll are semi-decent, while Ah’m findin’ grease in places that don’t seem possible. Ah gotta get my fun in when Ah can, and Ah gotta do it while Ah’m young and still semi-good lookin’.”

“Skeeter, relax. There’s a certain charm that comes with being a mechanic, especially one as good as you.” He paused for a moment, then grinned. “One day, some racer chick of a golden girl’s gonna roll into your garage and ask that you make her car go faster. You’ll do that, she’ll be happy and try to pay you, but you’ll say something sappy like ‘no charge for a damsel like you’. Then she’ll love you, you guys’ll grow up and get married, and you’ll live happily ever after. The end.”

Skeeter shook his head with a smile. “Wishful thinkin’. Extremely wishful.”

“You never know, man.”

For a while, both boys walked down the road in silence. The year had been long and hard, and there had been times when the many stressors of high school had threatened to overwhelm them. However, they’d persevered and carried each other through, and now they were a quarter of the way through this nightmare.

The silence was broken by an odd rumbling noise. Skeeter glared at Allen. “Seriously?”

“Hey, when you worry about your exams as much as I do, you tend to forget about less important things. Food, for example.”

“No wonder yall’r so fuckin’ skinny.” he replied with a sigh. “Well then let’s double-time it to yer house so you can-”

Both boys suddenly stopped, listening.

Up ahead, from around the corner, the sound of gunfire met their ears.

Allen looked at Skeeter.

Skeeter looked at Allen.

Then they both took off toward the sound, intent on discovering its source.

“Who do ya think it is?” Skeeter panted as they ran.

“I dunno.” Allen responded. “The Powells have been pretty active lately, could be them.”

“Nah, who’s the victim?”

“No clue.”

“Aww, c’mon man. This is yer department, ain’t it?” He jeered.

“No, it’s my dad’s department. He tells me which gangs to watch out for, but he never tells me about potential targets.”

The gunshots stopped as quickly as they started. The two glanced at each other, then doubled their pace. Suddenly a white Chrysler came flying around the corner.

“MOVE!!” Allen yelled. They both dove for the sidewalk, landing on their bellies with loud ‘oofs’. Allen was a bit quicker to get up and turned to watch the car slide around a corner and speed off for the main city. He then turned and resumed sprinting toward the bend, Skeeter still trying to pick himself up.

He rounded the corner and stopped. There was a crowd of people gathering in front of his house, all clustering on the driveway and slowly moving toward the front door. His heart began beating even faster as he noticed that the house itself was missing the living room window and the front doorknob, and was pock-marked with bullet holes.

He sped toward the house, intent on reaching the door before the crowd could cut him off. He could see Mr. Sully in the crowd, too. Noticing Allen, he waved him toward the house. He waved an affirmation and made for the door, Sully still doing his best to keep the crowd at bay.

Allen cleared the steps in one bound and threw open the door.

What he saw inside made the world around him stand still. “Oh God, no…”

His stepdad lay against the wall by the door frame, T-shirt and the carpet beneath him stained red and a bloody hole where his eye should have been. His revolver still sat in his lifeless hand, slightly smoking.

Allen fought the urge to vomit and noticed another pool of blood in the kitchen. Knowing what he’d probably find in there he decided to avoid that room, instead noticing a pile of LEGOs on the floor by the couch, some half-finished creation sitting amidst the many small plastic parts.

“LOGAN!?” he called out as he ran upstairs. His little brother had been told that if someone ever broke into the house, he was to run upstairs to their parents’ bedroom, lock the door, and hide. Allen hoped against hope that he’d made it in time.

That hope died in his chest as he easily opened the bedroom door. “Logan?” he called again.

“Allen, over here!” a small voice responded. Allen’s hopes soared as he quickly ascended the stairs, then died again as he looked over and saw his little brother, teary-faced with a bloody hole just below his shoulder.

“Logan!” he exclaimed as he shot over to the poor child, throwing his bag to the floor as he went. Just how sick is this city!? he thought to himself.

“Allen…it hurts…” Logan started weakly.

“I know, buddy. Just hang in there.” Allen responded as his phone shot out of his hoodie pocket and called the emergency helpline.

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a voice answered.

“Armed gunmen just shot up my house! I need an ambulance ASAP!” Allen replied as he shed the hoodie and pressed it against his brother’s bullet wound.

“Stay where you are, sir. Paramedics are on their way. Try to control the bleeding until they arrive.”

No shit, really? “Understood.” he said. He then sat down next to Logan to wait for the paramedics to arrive.

“Hey Allen?” he asked.

“What’s up?”

“What happened to Mom and Dad?”

For a moment, Allen debated on telling him the truth. He decided against it, figuring Logan had enough to worry about at the moment. “Dad got hit like you did and Mom’s taking care of him until help arrives. But they’re both okay.”

“Good.”

“How was your last day in second grade?”

“It was great!” Logan said happily, then he coughed and colored the carpet in front of them red. Allen stared at it nervously, but he continued on like he hadn’t even noticed. “We had a pizza party, we played dodgeball, and I got a B in Math!”

“Sweeeet.” Allen said with a grin and a high five.

“It was great until Tyler and his friends pushed me into the trashcans. Hey, can we go throw toilet paper at his house?”

“As soon as you get out of the hospital, we’re gonna grab some eggs and our paintball guns and go to town on the front of his place.”

“Yes!” he said, pumping his fist for emphasis. He hissed as the movement sent pain through his chest. Allen gently patted his shoulder.

“Try to take it easy until then, alright?”

“You’re the boss.” he said with a grin that was short two teeth.

“Don’t forget it.” Allen said smugly. They resumed staring out the window ahead of them for the next few minutes. He started to hear sirens in the distance. Hurry up, dammit.

From downstairs came the sound of vomit hitting the floor. Skeeter must have finally caught up and noticed his stepfather next to the kitchen door. “Al! Where are ya, man!?”

“Upstairs!” Allen called back.

The room was silent for a few seconds, then Logan spoke again.

“Allen?”

“Yeah?”

“Was it supposed to rain today?”

“I don’t think so, why?”

“It’s getting really dark outside.”

Allen forgot to breathe for a moment. It was bright as could be outside.

“Maybe I’m wrong.” he said, trying hard to keep the dread out of his voice.

“I don’t feel so good.” Logan said weakly. Allen looked over and noticed how pale Logan had become. Please God, no. Not him, too. “Allen, am I-”

“No.” Allen said, abruptly cutting him off. “You’re not. You’re gonna be just fine.”

“Promise?” he asked.

Allen almost answered, then shut his mouth as Logan coughed again and stained the carpet even more than before. Just then, Skeeter made it upstairs, going as pale as Logan when he saw the blood in front of them. Knowing what was coming, he went back downstairs to wait on the front porch, giving the two some last few seconds of privacy. Allen stared at the giant splotch for a long time before answering.

“Promise. Everything’s going to be alright.” he said with tears strolling down his face. “Just close your eyes and rest for a bit. Everything’ll be back to normal when you wake up, I promise.”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you too, buddy.” he replied. “Don’t worry. You’re gonna be just fine.”

He kept saying this over and over. Even after he felt Logan slump against his arm. Even after the paramedics showed up and laid the body on a stretcher. Even after Skeeter helped him out to the swing on the front porch.

“You’re gonna be just fine.”

((((((*******))))))

Present

Allen stopped talking for a moment and sat there, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks.

“That was what finally broke me.” he rasped. He rubbed the tears off of his face, then stared angrily at the steering wheel in front of him and continued, his voice rising. “I promised him that he was going to be fine. Well he’s certainly fine now, isn’t he!? He’s definitely not hurting anymore!”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Twilight’s tear-stained face. For a moment he just stared at her, then he slumped back into his seat.

“Killing innocent people is one thing. It happens all the time and there’s not much you can do to prevent it. But it takes a special kind of monster to kill an innocent child, and when that child is your own flesh-and-blood younger sibling, all you want is to watch the people responsible die.”

He sighed. “But that wasn’t enough for me. I didn’t just want them to die. I wanted to kill them personally.”

((((((*******))))))

Past

Allen sat in the lobby with his head in his hands, staring at the floor. He hadn’t moved for the past five hours. Not to eat, not to drink, not even to go to the bathroom. When he’d arrived at the hospital, doctors had told him that Logan was still alive and that they were doing everything they could to save him. He knew Logan had already lost too much blood; but if his brother did by some miracle pull through, he wanted to be the first to know.

His mother and stepfather, on the other hand, had been pronounced dead shortly after being admitted. This hadn‘t surprised him, though the reality of it had still hit him pretty hard.

Skeeter had stayed there with him for as long as he could, trying to help Allen cope with his loss. Eventually, though, his father had called and told him that he needed help with something. Allen had insisted that he go to work, saying that he wasn’t worth Skeeter’s father injuring himself. Skeeter had reluctantly complied, leaving Allen alone in the lobby to wait for the doctor’s return.

Three nurses had come to visit him since then, to see how he was doing and if he needed anything. All three times he’d responded in a monotone, telling them he was fine. And he still hadn’t moved.

He was still in the same position when the gray-haired man in the high-collar leather biker’s jacket sat down next to him.

The man said nothing to Allen as he sat down, instead retrieving his cell phone and punching in a few numbers. He didn’t have to wait long for someone to answer.

“This is the kid you wanted? This skinny little runt?”

Allen said nothing, but his full attention was suddenly devoted to the stranger next to him.

“Of course not, but I’m failing to see what you see in him.”

Allen sat up and stared at the man, who continued to ignore him.

“That’s it? It’s unusual, sure, but it’s nothing earth-shattering.” The man paused as the person on the other end responded. “Fine.”

He held the phone out for Allen. “It’s for you.” he said simply. Allen stared at the phone for a long moment before taking it.

“Hello?”

“Allen Flynt?” Allen was surprised by the artificially deepened voice that answered, and even more surprised that it knew his name.

“Yeah…yeah, that’s me. Who are you?”

“My name’s not important.”

“That’s debatable.” Allen replied suspiciously.

“Excuse me?”

“Try to view this from my perspective, Robocop.” he replied, standing up and pacing. “What would you think if you came home from school one day to find that your house and family had been shot to pieces, and shortly after that you got called by someone doing his best to pretend he doesn’t exist? Someone who knows who you are, mind you!?”

“I know how this must look-”

“No kidding! Really!? It looks like I’m being called by the same person who wanted my family killed!”

“You misunderstand. I’m not the one who ordered the hit.”

Allen forced a laugh. “Really?”

“Really. I know who did order it, though, and I also know it had nothing to do with anyone except your stepfather.”

Allen stopped pacing and glanced at the man who’d given him the phone, who hadn’t stopped staring at him since he’d handed him the phone. They stared at each other for a minute, then Allen resumed pacing. “I’m listening.”

“His name is Michalis Frost, also known as the King of Las Vegas. He’s been freely running the streets of Vegas since Goodman took office two years ago. The two of them have been working hand in hand to get Goodman on that podium; Frost ensuring Goodman doesn’t have to worry about his competition, and Goodman protecting Frost from the legal system.”

“How does this concern my stepfather?”

“Detective Granger was getting too close to uncovering their partnership. If the public found out, Goodman would face life in prison, and Frost would have to go into hiding or face far worse.”

“So why’d they kill the rest of my family?” Allen asked through gritted teeth.

“They were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

He shook his head, barely keeping his anger at bay. His family had simply been casualties of a shady political campaign. They’d been murdered for no reason other than two old con artists wanting to make some quick cash off of drug cartels.

He could have snapped right there and stormed up to city hall to strangle the mayor.

Instead he took a deep breath and tried to stay rational, starting to see where this was headed. “Where exactly do I fit into all of this?”

“It’s simple. You’ll be the triggerman.”

Allen smiled as he tried to milk this moment. “Me? But I’m just your average high school freshman. I’m going to be a detective just like my old man.”

“And I was going to be a politician. Instead, I’m running what’s about to be one of the biggest fixer organizations in the history of the Las Vegas underground. Destiny’s a funny thing, huh?”

“As much as I’d love to blow both of their brains out for you, I fail to understand how I’m the best qualified for the job.”

“Your stepfather used to take you to the range all the time before last year, just for fun. Did you ever get a look at your scores?”

“I did.” Allen responded simply

“Then need I say more?”

“Yes, because I’m sure there’s more to the job than being a good shot.”

“Correct. On top of that, your frequent ‘excursions’ have shown me that you possess a skill most other fixers seem to lack: ingenuity. If you can’t solve a problem one way, you search for another way; and you keep searching until you find something that works.”

He cocked a brow at this. “How long have you been watching me, exactly?”

“Since you were twelve.”

“Great.” He sighed. “Why haven’t you sent anyone else after him?”

“At the moment, I don’t have anyone else. I’m looking at a few other hopefuls, but the last fully-trained fixer I have is the same guy who handed you the phone and, quite frankly, he’s overdue for retirement. You’re my best option. You can take or leave the offer, but if you want to see the King face justice sooner than later, I suggest you take it.”

Allen thought for a moment. He’d been ready to go out and personally kill everyone involved in his family’s murder. If agreed to do this, not only would he be able to do just that, but he’d get paid to do it. It was practically a dream come true.

At the same time, though, something held him back. Am I really ready to just…go out and kill a man?

Suddenly a tired-looking doctor came back into the lobby, blood covering the front of him. He looked around until he spotted the teen in the red T-shirt staring at him expectantly, then shook his head sadly.

Allen felt the small ray of hope die in his chest, a boiling rage taking its place. No…I’m ready to kill everyone in Vegas.

The doctor returned to the operating room, and Allen turned back to the phone. “You’re sure you can find him?” he asked.

“Sooner or later. He can’t hide from me forever.”

Allen smiled. “Alright. You’ve got yourself a new fixer.”

“Welcome aboard. Would you kindly hand the phone back to my associate? I need to make some arrangements for your training.”

“Sure.” he said as he complied. He sat back down and smiled at the ceiling.

Your move Mr. Frost.

Author's Note

Just in time for New Year's. Remember to comment and leave a like if you enjoyed.
Stay safe and have a happy New Year's everyone! :twilightsmile:

Ch.17-Frankenstein's Monster (Part 2-Rampage)

Present

Allen stopped and took a breath, Twilight continuing to stare at him in surprise. Though she knew why he had done so, she still found his eagerness to become a hired killer slightly unsettling.

“After agreeing to be the Administrator’s new clean-up guy, I spent six months training with the retired fixer. I spent a few months after that doing a bunch of miscellaneous clean-up jobs, either to help the Administrator weed out Frost’s location or to fund the whole operation. I even dropped out of high school just so I could focus on finding him. Skeeter gave me my space during this time, surprisingly, and didn’t ask many questions other than ‘are you still alive’. I guess he figured he’d respond the same way given my situation.”

“Didn’t you?” she asked.

His expression darkened as he thought back to the earliest days of his employment. “No. No one would’ve responded as violently as I did.”

((((((*******))))))

Past

Allen sprinted down the stairs three at a time, his phone ringing in the kitchen all the while. He slid into the kitchen, swiped his phone off the counter, and answered just before the call went to voicemail.

“Please tell me you’ve got a lead.” he said. It had been nine whole months since his family’s murder, and his hunger for revenge had not wavered in the slightest. While killing other scumbags in Vegas had allowed him to vent some of his frustration, Michalis Frost remained his primary target.

“You’re in luck.” The Administrator replied, and Allen felt his heart skip a beat. “His name is Joseph Heines. He’s Frost’s security advisor, otherwise known as the reason Frost seems to be invisible ninety-nine percent of the time.

“I’d love to meet him. Where is he?”

“That’s the bad news. I have no clue where he is, as he seems to be just as good at hiding himself as he is at hiding his boss.”

“Dammit.”

“The good news is I know where the people are who do know.”

“Oh?”

“Yup. Two people. I’m sending you their profiles now, as well as a list of places you might find them. Good luck.”

“Who needs luck?” Allen said smugly.

“Riiiight…whatever. Just don’t fuck this up, alright? If the advisor finds out you’re looking for him before you find him, then it’ll be nearly impossible to track him down.”

“Relax, boss. Everything’s under control.”

“Alright, if you say so. And Ghost?”

“Yeeees?” he drawled out.

“Try to leave them in one piece this time.” the Administrator said, anxiety evident even through their voice morpher.

“Dude, for the tenth time, it was an accident!” Allen replied defensively. “The cutoff wouldn’t work, and by the time I reached the plugs it was too late!”

“Ghost, you killed a guy with a hydraulic press! That’s not exactly something you do on accident!”

“It. Was. An. Accident.” Allen retorted, emphasizing each word.

“Whatever.” they huffed. “Look, I’m not asking you to become a pacifist, alright? I’m just asking you to exercise some self-control. Accident or not, a hydraulic press does not make a good interrogation tool.”

Debatable. The guy sang like a parakeet as soon as I turned it on. “Duily noted.”

A sigh came from the other end. “Alright. Good luck, let me know when you've dealt with Heines, and…God help me…behave.”

“Yes, mom.” Allen sneered before hanging up.

Allen tossed the phone back onto the counter, then jogged back upstairs to get ready for the full night of work he had ahead of him.

((((((*******))))))

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Conrad.” said the arms dealer.

“Likewise.” replied Vince, before getting in his van. He stole a look towards the back, smiling at the close to two dozen large silver cases stacked neatly, waiting to be unloaded. He turned back around as two men raised the garage door, starting the engine as he did so. He then pulled out onto the busy street and headed for the drop-off.

The sun was already beginning to set over the Vegas skyline by the time he made it back to the city. The buildings had become giant black silhouettes against the evening sky, the lights that made them stand out becoming much more pronounced. Traffic began to slowly die down as people settled into their homes or bars for the night.

Vince drove around for another fifteen minutes until he found the place he was looking for. He entered a parking garage connected to a hospital and parked in the far right area, then took the keys out of the ignition, hid them in the glove compartment, and got out and headed for the bar.

In two days, The King’s cronies would come around to pick up the guns, and he and his friends would each be getting a couple thousand bucks for their services. They were all going to spend the night at the bar celebrating the large payday they were due to receive, and Vince couldn’t be more excited.

He nodded to two officers as they passed him. They eyed him suspiciously, but continued walking. He smiled as they did so. The cops in this city seemed to possess the uncanny ability of being able to sense when someone was guilty, but that didn’t help when they had no evidence to back up their intuitions.

Suddenly, he was forcibly ripped from his thoughts by the sight of one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She had shoulder-length black hair, cobalt blue eyes, and was clad in a tight-fitting leather biker’s outfit. She smiled as she saw him, winking as he passed her. He had trouble tearing his eyes away from the beautiful angel and stopped to watch her as she walked away, swinging her hips slightly as she went.

Vince wondered how she hadn’t been arrested yet, because looking that beautiful simply had to be illegal.

He stared for only a moment longer, then started jogging after her. You know what? The guys can wait. This angel’s digits can’t. he thought as he chased after her. He raised a hand to tap her on the shoulder, his mind sifting through several possible pickup lines.

And then he saw the kid in the black hoodie.

The boy had his hood up and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a tight-fitting one-strap crossing his chest.

And he was staring at him with a smile that could’ve paled the devil.

Vince made a split-second decision and ran down an alley, the angel completely forgotten.

He ran for about fifteen minutes, frequently switching alleys and running through shops and restaurants, trying desperately to shake that little brat even after he thought he’d lost him. Once, he looked back and could’ve sworn he saw him disappear down a different alleyway. The thought of that little demon spawn catching up to him and playing twisted games with his corpse urged him to double his speed.

Only when he caught sight of the bar did he slow down to catch his breath. For a moment he sat there coughing, then he started laughing.

“Little punks. Thinkin’ they can scare me.” he said to himself, straightening up. He was actually slightly annoyed that the little runt had kept him from getting the strange girl’s number.

Oh well. There’s always next time. he thought, starting towards the brightly-lit watering hole, ready to tell his friends all about his little adventure.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder, and he spun around to see who had the guts to touch him.

His eyes widened when he saw the demon, now holding a crowbar.

“Hi.” he said cheerfully, before slamming the tool into Vince’s head.

((((((*******))))))

Maya shut the door behind her and started shedding her biker’s gear, silently wondering who the handsome fellow was that she’d passed earlier. He’d looked familiar, but she couldn’t think of where she’d seen him before.

Oh well. she thought as she sat the bag containing the components of her rifle on the worktable in her bedroom. Vegas isn’t that big. Maybe I’ll see him again.

She was going about the room gathering the things she needed for a shower when she heard a small thump come from the kitchen. She stopped and listened, wondering what had caused the small noise.

“Miley?” she called out cautiously.

She received a small mewl in response.

“Miley, you better not be trying to sneak treats again, little missy.” Maya said firmly as she entered the bathroom.

Another mewl was Miley’s only reply.

Maya smiled and shook her head as she turned on the water and undressed. As she got in and started washing her hair, she could’ve sworn she heard another thump. Miley, if I catch you with your head in that jar, I swear to God…

After a few minutes she got out, dried off, and got dressed to head to her meeting. As she pulled a tank top down over her head, she heard something shatter. She threw the bathroom door open and started toward the kitchen.

“Miley, what is your deal tod-!?”

She was abruptly cut off something was forced against her neck from behind. She struggled to wrench the metal tool away from her neck, even as she heard her assailant chuckling evilly.

“Nice place you got here. Hope you don’t mind, but I helped myself to some of your leftover pizza.” he said as he squeezed her neck even more. “Couldn’t control myself.”

She fought for a few more seconds to retain consciousness, but she couldn’t stop the world from fading away around her. Distantly, she felt herself hit the floor.

((((((*******))))))

Vince woke with a start, instinctively reaching for his handgun. He instantly realized that, not only was the gun missing, but he was also bound tightly. He struggled against the bonds, trying to loosen them enough for him to slip out and escape, but gave up after a few minutes. Shit.

As he sat there panting, he became aware of someone stirring behind him.

“Hello?”

“Uuugh…what…where the hell…?” Maya began, starting to struggle with her bonds just as he had.

“I don’t know where we are, but you have to keep your voice down.” Vince replied.

He looked around, trying to make out their surroundings. They appeared to be in some kind of factory, given all of the complex machinery that surrounded them. There was also a strong smell coming from somewhere nearby. What is that?

“How are we supposed to get out of here?”

“I’ve got a small knife in my right pocket. Grab it, cut me loose, then I’ll cut you loose and we can leave.”

“Alright.” she said as she reached in said pocket. “I think I got it.”

“No sweetie, that is not the knife.” replied Vince. “Feel free to continue grabbing that, though.”

“Perv…” she snapped.

“Right, I’m the perv.”

“You’re a sick freak, is what you are.”

Suddenly a new voice ended their little argument. “You lovebirds looking for this?”

Both captives looked up at a nearby catwalk, finally noticing the teenager in the black hoodie innocently playing with a pocket knife.

“You…” Vince growled.

“Did I seriously get kidnapped by some little kid?” Maya asked in annoyance.

The figure didn’t answer, instead casually leaning against a nearby support beam and pulling out his phone.

“Right, let’s see who we’ve got here today…” he muttered as he scrolled down whatever he was looking at. “Vince Conrad. Twenty-six years old. Canadian-American. Arms smuggler. Sheesh, Vince. Your name’s connected to thirteen different cartel busts. You’re not too good at covering your tracks, are you?”

Vince responded by staring open mouthed at their captor. Maya wasn’t as fazed.

“So you’ve got some dirt, big d-“

“Also on the stage,” the youth continued. “Maya Jimenez. Also twenty-six. Family illegally immigrated from Mexico. Fixer. Wow…you were investigated for the assassination of Mayor Preston. Luckily for you, there wasn’t enough evidence to connect you to the crime.”

Now it was Maya’s turn to gape at the shady teenager. How did he know I’m an illegal immigrant?

“What are you, an undercover cop or something?” Vince asked, still baffled.

At this, the kid burst out in uncontrollable laughter. The two captives watched as he wheezed uncontrollably, gripping the handrail for support. Eventually, he managed to get control of himself and he turned back to them.

“No, I’m not.” he said, still chuckling. “Let’s just say I have a guy, alright?”

“What do you want with us?” Maya asked.

“Honestly, it doesn’t even have anything to do with you two. It has everything to do with the King of Vegas.”

Both of them chuckled at this. “In over our heads a bit, aren’t we?” said Maya.

“Not at all.” the boy responded calmly.

“Kid, let me give you a good piece of advice. You ready?” Vince chimed in. “Give up. Whatever the King did to you isn’t worth getting yourself killed over; and with the power he’s got, that’s exactly what’s gonna happen.”

“You talk about him like he’s some sort of god.”

“He kind of is.” Maya said, Vince nodding in agreement.

“No, he isn’t.” the boy responded firmly, both captives turning to look at him. “You can kill anyone if you know how to find them.”

The boy’s dramatic change in tone was what caused Vince to start looking around. His eyes fell upon the pile of empty gas cans in the far corner. “Oh shit…” he breathed, now noticing the puddle of gas they were sitting in

“Nice catch there, Vinnie. So I guess you understand your situation now, am I right?”

“Look man, what the hell do you want!?” he asked frantically, hearing Maya gasp as she too noticed the puddle of fuel.

“Information.” the teen said simply. “I want to kill the King, but I can’t find him. He has a kickass security advisor who manages to wipe the both of them off the map whenever my guy gets close to finding him.” He leaned over the rail to leer evilly at them. “However, my guy tells me that you two know where I can find said advisor.”

“I’ve got no clue.” Vince said automatically.

“Me neither.” Maya said at almost the exact same time.

The stranger said nothing as he reached into his pocket.

“Now come on, man. This isn’t worth getting-” Vince started.

“Getting what? Blood on my hands?” the boy asked with a dry chuckle as he struck the match on the railing. “I’ve already killed about two dozen people trying to find this guy. What’s two more matter?”

With that he dropped the match onto the catwalk floor. A small trail of fire sprung from where it landed, slowly making its way down to the floor where Vince and Maya sat struggling.

“Where’s his advisor?” asked the teen fixer. “Tell me and you won’t burn to death.”

“If you kill us, you’ll never find him!” Maya said in a panicky voice.

“Well, that’s one to think about this.” the kid said, holding his chin in mock contemplation. “On the other hand, if you won’t tell me what I want to know to save your own lives, you’re never going to tell me. If that’s the case, then I have zero reason to keep you alive anyway.”

“Look man, I don’t even know, alright!? I’ve never even talked to the guy!” Vince yelled, voice cracking in fear.

“Probably not, but he’s the one who organizes all of your arms smuggling deals, and messages regarding those types of deals aren’t sent electronically for security purposes. That means you receive a paper copy from someone. I want that someone.”

“And what about me!? What makes you think I know where he is!?”

“He’s your contractor. You meet him in person to receive your jobs because he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t trust phone lines, secure or not. You two don’t have much longer, by the way.” he added.

Sure enough, the trail of fire was a mere ten feet away and still steadily advancing.

Maya finally caved. “Alright, alright! I’m supposed to meet him on Hoover dam at eleven for my next job assignment! Now let me go!”

“Thanks for your help.” said their captor as he extracted a silenced pistol from inside his hoodie.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell!? You said you would let us go!” protested Vince.

“When did I say that? I just said you wouldn’t burn to death.” he replied, feigning confusion as he pulled the slide back and let it spring forward with a loud ‘click’. “I can’t afford to have you two running around, letting everyone know that I’m after your boss. All I can do for you at this point is make your deaths as quick and painless as I can. So…adios!” With that, he popped the smuggler in the head, then aimed at the fixer.

“YOU ASSHOLE!!” she screamed just before going limp against her colleague.

“Yeeeeah…I know.” Allen said with a grin. He then holstered the weapon, put his hands in his pockets, and walked back downstairs as the smell of cooking flesh began to fill the small factory.

((((((*******))))))

Joseph looked at his watch for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.

“Anything?” he asked the giant of a man who stood near the car.

“No, sir. She still hasn’t responded.” the guard answered, putting his phone away.

He groaned in frustration. “Why is she late? She’s never late.” He stopped and thought for a moment. “Well, except for that time she got stuck in traffic.”

“There are almost no cars on the road at this time of night sir. I don’t think she’s stuck in traffic.”

“No, no, of course not…” Joseph said distantly, checking his watch once again.

His bodyguard stared at him for a moment, then sighed in frustration. “Sir, I really think we should leave. There are many possible reasons as to why Ms. Jimenez has not answered, but the most likely is that she’s been compromised. If that’s the case, her assailant may have our location and be on their way right now.”

Joseph stared at the road with his hands in his pockets. “Call her one more time.”

“Sir-”

“Do it.”

The guard sighed as he slid his phone back out of his pocket and dialed the fixer’s cell phone again, putting it to his ear and listening to the dial tone for the third time that night. Sure enough, the call went to voicemail after a few seconds. He made to put the phone back in his pocket as he turned back to his employer.

Suddenly, an arm wrapped itself tightly around his neck and he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. He distantly realized that he was being attacked and tried to tell his boss to run, but the arm around his neck cut off his cry of alarm. So he did the next best thing.

He took the phone still in his grasp and smacked it against the car window as hard as he could.

Joseph spun around at the light noise. “What the hell was-OH SHIT!!” he yelled as he noticed the fixer that had just killed his bodyguard.

“You motherfucker.” Allen whispered in the guard’s ear before dropping him and extracting his pistol. The runaway contractor fell to the concrete with a yelp as he shot him in his left thigh.

He tried to ignore the pain as he struggled back to his feet, when he was suddenly seized by his jacket collar and thrown toward the edge of the dam. He recovered himself just before reaching the edge, though there was no avoiding the nauseating sight of the concrete ground far below.

He turned around and saw his assailant slowly approaching him, and panic gripped him instantly. “Look kid, killing me won’t solve your problems, alright? Your wasting your time!”

“Clearly you don’t know what my problem is then.” the boy replied, stopping about two feet away, his expression cold.

“Then tell me! Maybe I can help!” Joseph said, seizing onto his last chance to survive this.

The teen fixer appeared to mull this over for a moment, then smiled warmly. “Alright.”

Hope filled the contractor’s chest as he continued. “I’m trying to find a man named Michalis Frost so I can kill him for what he did to my family. My problem is that some guy named Joseph Heines is keeping my intel guy from finding him. I’d leave the poor guy alive since I have no beef with him to begin with, but I can’t take any chances that he’ll warn his boss and tell him to leave town before I can get my hands on him.”

The hope left as quickly as it come as the fixer’s smile turned from warm to sadistic. “I would appreciate any help you could give me Mr. Heines.”

“Now, listen. I-” Joseph began, but was abruptly cut off as the boy’s gloved hand wrapped around his throat.

“You want to know how you can help, boss? You can lick the concrete at the bottom of this dam. See ya!”

And with that, he pushed the man off the edge and walked away, ignoring his distant screams.

Allen walked back to his van, wincing slightly as he heard a wet ‘smack’ in the distance, and pulled out his phone. He whistled as he punched in the Administrator’s number and waited for the dial tone to end.

“Admin.” they said as they picked up.

“Heines is dealt with.” said Allen. “It won’t be long until Frost realizes what’s up.”

“Understood. It might take a little while to get a definite location, so you might as well go get some rest so you’ll be ready when I do. Speaking of which, expect a package to be sitting on your front porch.”

“Is it what I think it is?” he asked with a grin.

“Go see for yourself kiddo.” the Administrator replied. “I’ll call you when I have a location.”

“Understood. Peace.” Allen said, then he hung up and got in his van, ready to go home and unwrap his belated Christmas present.

((((((*******))))))

Present

“I don’t believe you.” Twilight said flatly.

“Didn’t I ask you not to interrupt?” Allen asked in annoyance.

“Didn’t I ask for the truth?” she retorted. “There’s no possible way someone could go from being…that…to being what you are now.”

“Wanna bet?” Allen said with a grim smile, and Twilight edged back slightly. “I was after blood. The amount didn’t concern me. Frost had taken something precious from me, and I was determined to make him pay for it. Anyone who tried to stand in my way was bound suffer the same fate.”

Twilight shook her head in bewilderment. “So…then how did you go from being a serial killer to a vigilante?” she asked.

Allen sighed. “I went out to the desert to find Frost. I found him, but I also found something else. Something that I really and truly was not prepared for.”

Author's Note

Some imagination I got, huh? :pinkiecrazy:
Don't forget to comment (pleeeease!). Also, if you enjoyed this chapter, PUNCH that like button in the face LIKE A BOSS! (yes I did.)
Also remember you're awesome.
Thanks guys! :twilightsmile:

Ch.18-Frankenstein's Monster (Part 3-Confrontation)

Past

“What, you think he could be somewhere else?” Allen asked, slightly impatient.

“No, I know he’s here. That’s not what I’m worried about.” the Administrator replied. “I’m worried that this could be a trap.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s been twenty-four hours since you whacked his advisor. That’s ample time to realize what’s going on, and yet he hasn’t left the area.”

“Maybe he thinks he has nothing to worry about.” Allen said with a smirk, imagining the look on Frost’s face when he realized that he did, in fact, have something to worry about.

“No, that’s not it.” they replied, causing him to raise a brow in curiosity. “Frost is a lot of things, but a fool isn’t one of them. I think he wants to face you.”

“Well then, all the more reason to get going.”

“Ghost, wait! Think ab-” they began, but Allen hung up before they could finish, then resumed looking at the area surrounding the bunker with his new rifle.

He was on a rocky bluff overlooking what appeared to be a refurbished Cold War bunker and the surrounding area. For the past two hours, he’d been watching the guards shuffle about their patrol routes, memorizing each and every one. He’d also taken note of a comms tower near the bunker, three snipers on the roof, and a truck full of…something…that would drive in while another drove out every thirty minutes.

Another cartel. Well, I guess if you want to buy and/or sell something illegal, this is definitely the place to do it.

He took a deep breath and steadied himself as another truck swap began. With everyone’s focus drawn to the box truck, he turned to the snipers on the roof and dispatched each of them, starting with the one at the back so as to prevent detection, then hit the power box on the comms tower so they couldn’t call for help, just in case he was discovered.

By this point the truck swap had finished and the remaining seven guards had resumed their bored shuffling, not even paying any attention to their comrades as they silently cursed their luck at getting assigned to such an arid and dreary location. Allen smiled as he reloaded.

This is too easy.

Three of the men were busy unloading the merchandise in the garage. Their attention was focused on their little group, so Allen decided he’d save them for last. He turned back to the other four, braining each one as soon as the focus was off of them. One of them turned in time to see his buddy’s head explode, but Allen whacked him before he could do much more than gasp in astonishment.

He reloaded again, then turned back to the three workers. He frowned as one of them began shouting to his friends, having noticed the dead bodies. Before they could do anything else, he took out the two in the back. He was about to shoot the last one, but he rolled into the cover of a concrete barrier.

Allen chuckled as the man’s head slowly rose above the edge of the barrier, carefully pivoting as he tried to determine Allen’s position.

Like a fucking parascope. he thought as the man crumpled into a heap.

He gingerly packed the rifle away in the guitar case he’d bought specifically for the purpose of concealing it and tucked it in behind some desert brush; then he got up, stretched, and began navigating his way towards the bunker, getting out his pistol and checking that it was cocked and ready, as well as his belt to make sure he had all of his extra clips and his new pocket knife.

He also touched a finger to the frag grenade hidden in a fold in his hoodie. The grenade was plan B. Allen was determined to kill Frost, even if he had to die with him.

Nine months…it’s really only been nine months… he thought.

He had come a long way from being the cocky street junkie of a high school freshman. The more he looked back on who he’d used to be, the more alien the idea seemed. He knew he’d changed since the Administrator had hired him, but he’d never thought about how much. The enormity of his transformation actually frightened him slightly.

He quickly shook his head to clear it. Stay focused. he thought as he passed through the garage and made to open the door to the parts inside.

As soon as his fingers brushed the doorknob, he stopped. He stood there for several seconds, listening.

There wasn’t a single sound.

This really is too easy.

Instead of swinging the door wide open like he’d been about to, he did so slowly and with extreme caution, stopping as he met resistance. It wasn’t very much, and he could have easily missed it if he hadn’t been careful.

He shut the door again and put some distance between him and whatever trap they’d put together on the other side of the door. So Admin was right. He did know I was coming.

He jogged around the building, looking for another entrance. It wasn’t long before he found a small vent in the back, about ten feet above the ground. He looked around for something he could climb on to reach it, only seeing a dumpster on the far right corner of the building.

Allen stared at the vent for a moment, then shrugged, took a few steps back, and charged at the wall beneath the vent. He jumped, stepped up on the wall, and caught the grate of the vent with both hands, ripping it from the wall and landing hard on the ground. He got back up and walked back to his prior position, rubbing the pain out of his backside, then repeated the process and snaked his slim form into the vent.

Allen shuffled inside the metal duct, taking care to only put his weight on supported areas so as to avoid making noise, and all the while keeping an ear out for guards. About twenty feet in, he came to a fork in the path and sat there for a moment, confused as to which way to go.

He turned to go right, then stopped as he heard voices coming from the other side. He turned back to the straight path and shuffled further, trying to discern what they were saying.

“You’re serious?” asked one voice. Allen scooted forward to another vent as quietly as he could so he could see who was talking. He reached it and peered down into a hallway which ran perpendicular to his duct, listening to two guards as they approached.

“Would I lie to you?” replied another voice.

“No, but at the same time, I find it pretty hard to believe that he ain’t scared at all. I mean, I know we’re talking about an experienced knife fighter against some pissy little high school freshman on a revenge quest-”

Allen narrowed his eyes at the first man’s voice . Fuck you, too.

“-but I heard about what happened to Vince. The body was burnt stiff to the point where they had trouble fitting him into the body bag! This kid ain’t playin’ around!”

“Gives you the creeps, don’t it?” agreed the second. “And he didn’t waste time either. He spent maybe six months training off the radar, then every day after that was the news reporting murder after murder after murder.”

“And you mean to tell me he’s just casually sitting in his office, not a care in the world?”

“Just reading last month’s stats. I think he actually wants the kid to find him.”

“Better him than us, right?” joked the first man. When he didn’t receive a reply, he turned to repeat himself, stopping as he noticed his companion twitching on the floor with blood pooling around his head. He looked up and raised his pistol, only to be hit in the face with a vent cover and pinned against the wall.

“I need some directions.” said Allen, pressing the knife more firmly against his neck.

((((((*******))))))

The bunker was way bigger than Allen had previously thought, actually extending five stories underground. Frost’s office was on the fourth one down, so Allen had been forced to forsake the safety of the vent for the hallways to make any decent progress.

He was on a time limit. He only had ten minutes until the next truck swap. When they got here and noticed all of the dead guards outside, the first thing they would do is call for backup. Allen didn’t want to be here when the backup arrived.

He ducked behind a stack of boxes to allow another pair of guards to pass, waiting until they turned the corner before proceeding.

On top of all of this, he had something else to bother him: he’d be facing a skilled knife fighter in an enclosed area. Allen’s specialty was ranged combat; and although he too was skilled with a knife, his effectiveness with it depended on the element of surprise. Frost was expecting him, which put him at a disadvantage.

Allen turned the corner and caught sight of the door to Frost’s office, slightly ajar. Inside, he could hear voices. He smiled. Well, maybe not a major disadvantage.

He began walking toward the door, slowly and carefully and barely breathing.

This was it. This was where he’d make that bastard pay.

Pay for what he’d done to his family.

To his brother.

To him.

He reached the door and gently pushed it open until he could see the desk…but there was no one there. The voices were coming from a laptop on the desk.

Suddenly, every fiber of his being screamed at him to move.

He somersaulted into the room, a dagger swinging through the area where his neck had been a mere fraction of a second before, and came to a crouch facing the door. He dove right with a yelp of surprise as Frost tried to follow up with a thrust and brought up his pistol, only to have it kicked out of his hand. Before Frost could follow up again, Allen stood up and shoved him back, his own knife flying off of his belt and snapping open in the blink of an eye.

Frost was dressed in a suit, of all things. Mid-length black hair partly covered his face, which bore a confident smirk and two sapphire blue eyes that never strayed from his opponent. Allen couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy as Frost stared at him, as if the man could read his thoughts. All the same, he tried his best to look intimidating as they circled one another.

“Dressed for the morgue, I see.” Allen sneered.

“Good one.” Frost responded smoothly. “So…to what do I owe the pleasure Mr.-?”

“Allen, and I’m here to kill you for what you did to my family.”

The other man stopped circling for a moment and held his chin in thought, recognition twinkling in his eyes. “Allen…Flynt? Right? Forgive me, this isn’t the first time some moron on a revenge quest has burst into my office.”

“You don’t say.” Allen replied.

“Indeed. Now, if I’m understanding the situation correctly, your stepfather was detective Lawrence Granger?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, you have no one to blame for what happened to your family but him. He’s the one who stuck his nose where it didn’t belong and started telling people things they didn’t need to know. If he’d left well enough alone I wouldn’t have needed to do what I did. Now listen: I understand that you’re angry-”

“Angry!? Angry!?” Allen said fiercely. “I’m angry that you killed my parents, but my eight-year-old little brother!? I’m beyond pissed for what you did to him!”

As they continued to circle each other, Allen took note of his pistol sitting under a vanity mirror in the far corner, then looked back at Frost as he tried to work out how he’d reach it.

Frost sighed and straightened up. “I’m sorry. Really. Believe me when I tell you that I take no pleasure in what I do, especially when I hear how it affects people. Understand, however, that this little mission of yours can only end with your death. It’d be better for you if you just walked away.”

“You honestly expect me to walk away after everything you’ve cost me? Especially now that I’m so close? I don’t think so.” Allen assumed a wide stance as he said this. “This ends here, one way or the other.”

Suddenly, he pivoted and threw the pocket knife at Frost, who strafed to his left to avoid the spinning blade. He made to take advantage of the situation, but Allen had already dived backwards to the vanity, retrieved his pistol, and leveled it at his chest.

Frost dove behind his desk as three shots hit the wall where he’d been a second ago. He hauled himself back up into a crouch and drew a revolver from inside his suit jacket. I tried to warn you kid. Really, I take no pleasure in this.

He rose to return fire, then yelled in surprise as Allen dove over the desk and tackled him, the laptop and other objects scattering to the floor. He felt him trying to wrench the knife away from him and quickly kicked him off. He responded by slugging him in the face, forcing him to drop the knife in shock. Before he could pick it up, however, Frost kicked him in the face, sending him staggering back. He then slammed him against the wall by his throat and proceeded on choking the life out of him with the revolver.

As the edges of his vision started fading to black, Allen began to feel something he hadn’t felt since he’d seen his house covered in bullet holes: fear. This man was going to kill him, just like he’d killed his family nine months ago.

NO!!

Allen raised his feet and kicked the man square in the chest, sending him toppling over the desk. He barely paused to recover as he scooped up the dagger on the floor and vaulted over the desk, raising the blade to finish the job, only for Frost to kick him in the chest and roll away.

Allen stood back up, ready to resume his assault, then froze as he saw his opponent aiming the revolver at him.

He looked around wildly. Frost was too far away to attack without getting shot, and he’d dropped his gun when he’d tackled him. He had to improvise, fast.

His fingers tightened around the ivory hilt of Frost’s knife, even as he became aware of the pocket knife that lay between the two adversaries.

Frost pulled back the hammer. “I’m sorry kid, but I tried to warn you.” he said just before he would have pulled the trigger.

Allen said nothing, instead tossing the dagger up in the air.

Frost saw it sail past the chandelier on the ceiling…

…and instantly realized his mistake.

He looked back down just in time to see Allen shoot forward like a bullet, snatch the pocket knife off the floor, and sink it into his gut. He then turned and caught the dagger out of the air and buried it in his chest.

Frost stared in shock at the two knives that had suddenly appeared in his torso, barely registering the fact that Allen had just snatched the revolver away.

“This…no…” he stuttered.

He stumbled over to lean against his desk, but tripped and landed against it instead. He looked up and saw Allen aiming the revolver at him.

“You seriously tried to talk me out of killing you? After everything you’ve done?”

“This…this makes no…sense.” Frost said, still staring at the knives in his body.

Allen smiled. “Makes perfect sense to-” he began, but trailed off.

He felt something. It was the oddest feeling, like some divine power tapping him on the shoulder. He turned to see what on earth had caused it, his eyes alighting on the mirror once more.

He stiffened in terror as something stared back.

It was wearing a black hoodie like Allen, and was holding a gun like Allen…

…but it wasn’t Allen.

The creature in the mirror was covered in blood, had pale skin, and wore a smile that could give a man a heart attack. Allen could have gotten past all of that.

But he could not stop looking at those eyes.

They were the eyes of psychopaths and mass-murderers, of bandits and marauders. They were the eyes that had happily watched people bleed to death and witnessed the destruction of nations. They were the eyes that turned the bravest men into fleeing cowards with just a glance.

They were the eyes of the Devil himself.

That can’t be me… he thought numbly as he stared into those blood-red eyes. It just can’t…

Frost stared at him in confusion, wondering why he was still alive. Then he erupted into a coughing fit, splattering blood all over his front.

Allen heard him in the distance, and the revolver shook uncontrollably as he returned to reality, the demon in the mirror turning back into him.

“You did this to me.” Allen said quietly.

Frost froze. “What?”

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!!” Allen roared, rounding back on him and leveling the revolver again. “YOU DID THIS TO ME!!”

Frost stared into his killer’s eyes and gasped.

The irises had turned a fiery red.

No. No! THAT’S NOT POSS-!

A revolver round ended his thought process.

((((((*******))))))

Present

“My past literally came back to haunt me after that. Everyone I’d killed, the graphic details of their deaths…everything started hitting me like a freight train, try as I might to ignore it.” Allen said in a shaky voice. “For days afterwards, I couldn’t talk to anyone. Everyone I knew was in danger. Shit, the whole fucking city was in danger. All I wanted was to stay in my house and keep the thing that I’d seen in the mirror away from the world, because I was afraid that the next living thing I saw would be my next victim.”

Twilight stared at him blankly as she processed everything she’d just heard, then spoke calmly to him. “If you were so afraid of killing people, then why didn’t you quit your job as a fixer?”

“I’d fully intended to. And then we activated the City Slayer for the first time.”

Author's Note

Hope you enjoyed. It's hard to coordinate a good fight scene when you're sick. :pinkiesick:
Remember to comment and like the story. Thanks everyone. :twilightsmile:

Ch.19-Frankenstein's Monster (Part 4-Disappearance)

Past

Allen did his best to avoid the patrols as they rushed to investigate the gunshots that had sounded throughout the bunker, all the while trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the truth.

This is all his fault. he thought desperately. He knew what he was doing. He did it on purpose. He turned me into this…thing.

But he couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him otherwise.

Suddenly, an alarm started blaring through the halls and interrupted the argument he’d been having with himself, bringing with it the panicked shouting of every guard in the facility.

They must have found the body. I need to leave before they lock down all the exits.

He shot out from behind the stack of crates he’d been using as cover, startling two guards on their way to the front door. Allen instinctively aimed his pistol at one guard’s head, but found he couldn’t shoot. He began sweating as he tried his hardest to squeeze the trigger, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Both men looked at each other in confusion as they watched him slowly lower the gun.

Finally one of them shrugged and aimed his shotgun at him. “So long, dumb-AAAAAAGH!!”

Instead of blasting the little punk point-blank, the guard dropped the gun started hopping around on one foot while holding the other in agony. His friend stared at him in shock for a moment before joining him, his SMG clattering to the ground.

Allen sped past them and continued down the hall, disabling any guards he came across in the same fashion as the first two. It grew more difficult to do so the further he went, which he assumed was because the guards he dispatched were warning their comrades about his tactics. Even so, he always managed to find the top of a shoulder or a knee sticking out of cover, and downed enemies were about as dangerous as dead ones.

Allen was beginning to run out of ammunition when he finally reached the door to the garage. He grew even more apprehensive as he saw that the booby trap he’d noticed before had been disarmed. He opened the door ever so slightly and tried to peek through the crack to see if there was anyone waiting on the other side.

“Fire!”

He dove to the side as the door was nearly ripped off its hinges by gunfire and rolled back to his feet, now panicking. There had to have been at least twenty people in the garage waiting for him to walk through the door. He only had one more spare clip, a half-empty one in his pistol, and the revolver he’d looted from Frost.

Maybe I can go back and grab a gun off of one of the-

Suddenly, about a dozen guards came around the corner, forcing Allen to take cover in a room just across from the garage.

He flattened himself against the wall to avoid the second barrage from outside and winced as something pressed into his back. He reached around and grabbed the offending object, bringing it close to his face so he could see it in the low light.

It was his grenade.

Allen stared at it for a moment, then let it drop to the floor and crossed to other side of the door. He was done killing, and that was all grenades were good for.

Even as he began trying to disable the guards in the hallway, however, he kept glancing at the grenade.

The pistol clicked empty as he took out the last one’s kneecap, and he quickly loaded in his last clip. Just as he was about to move for the garage door, however, more guards poured in from around the corner to replace the ones he’d taken down, forcing him back to the other side of the door.

He let his hands fall to his sides. There were simply too many of them, and more just kept coming. This would be the end of him unless…

“No.” he said to himself. “I won’t do it.”

But he couldn’t stop staring down at his only way out of this mess.

He heard one of the guards calling out in the hallway. “You and you, come with me. We’re gonna go flush him out.”

Allen heard footsteps approaching around the corner and sprang to the other side of the door, emptying six rounds into their legs. He sprang back just as the squad in the hall peppered the doorframe, staring once more at the grenade.

It’s not my fault. he thought as he picked up the grenade and pulled the pin. It’s your fault for shooting at me.

He waited for a second before turning around and chucking it into the garage, ducking back before they could shoot at him again.

One of them stopped shooting and watched a small metal object bounce and roll under the truck parked in the garage. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to warn his teammates, but he was too late.

Allen cringed away from the door as the garage was suddenly filled with fire and flying wreckage, then spun around and charged through the heavily damaged garage door. He heard the guards in the hall shouting as they tried to reorganize themselves and wasted no time in getting back to his vantage point.

He took a second to look back at the damage he’d caused, his gut twisting up at the sight of the garage; now filled with fire, scrap metal, and dead or dying guards. Then he shook his head vigorously and grabbed his rifle case. It’s not my fault. There was no other option. he thought as he sprinted back to his dad’s van.

The voice continued to disagree with him.

((((((*******))))))

“It’s done.”

“No kidding! Really?” The Administrator replied sarcastically.

“YES,REALLY!!” Allen replied angrily. “WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM, HUH!?”

They paused, obviously shocked by his sudden outburst. “Ghost?”

Allen didn’t respond for a long time, then he sighed. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do this job anymore. I…I just can’t.”

“What happened?”

“I saw the devil smiling at me in the mirror before I killed Frost. He looked exactly like me.”

The line was silent for a long time as the Administrator processed what they’d just heard.

“We’ll talk later, but for right now, listen. When you blow up a garage in the middle of the night, people are bound to notice. Said people called the cops.”

“Please don’t tell me they’re after me.” he groaned.

“Said people also noticed a maroon SUV speeding away from the scene toward the city, and police are now in pursuit. I recommend you find somewhere to hide until-never mind, too late.”

Allen spun around in his seat, and what he saw made the voice in his head instantly shut up.

“Shit!” he hissed as he saw police lights in the distance, as well as a chopper’s searchlight which was focused on him. He turned around and pushed the gas pedal as far as it would go. “I’m open to suggestions!”

“You won’t be able to lose them by yourself. Even if the cops lose sight of you, there are cameras on just about every street corner.”

“Okay, and the good news!?”

“I have an idea. I’ve been working on a little project I like to call Smokescreen. It’s a computer virus. It’s coded to send all non-vital city electrical systems into standby for ten minutes, then burn itself out.”

“Great! How’s that supposed to help me!?”

“The power to street lights, cameras, and pretty much anything else that isn’t immediately important will be temporarily cut off. All you have to do is take out that searchlight and cut off your headlights and you’ll be able to pull an instant David Copperfield.”

“How long?” Allen asked.

“About five minutes. Just dodge and weave until then.” The line went dead after that, and he stuck the phone in his pocket.

“Just dodge and weave. Easy, right?”

His answer came from close behind. “Stop the vehicle now!”

He turned and gaped at how close the police had gotten while he’d been on the phone. One car approached his back right wheel, and he swerved in front to cut them off. Another approached from the other side and he rammed into it, sending it crashing into a building. “Yeah, easy.” he said confidently.

“Stop your vehicle now, or we will open fire!”

“Or not.” He suddenly turned down an alleyway in an effort to lose some of his pursuers. A few of them managed to make the turn, while the rest either slid past or slammed into the wall.

Allen turned back onto the main street with four cruisers still in hot pursuit. Suddenly, his back window shattered and he ducked down to avoid the gunfire now tearing up the back of his car.

“God dammit, hurry up Admin!” he growled as he extracted his pistol and aimed out of the now-windowless back window. He managed to take out one cop’s front tire and watched him spin out, his comrades swerving to avoid him while continuing to fire.

Allen noticed the chopper following close behind the cop cars, aimed up at its light, and emptied the rest of the clip, hoping that one of the five remaining bullets would hit the light. He smiled as the light exploded in a fit of sparks, then holstered the pistol and extracted the revolver.

Allen cringed as a bullet bit through part of his ear and took out his rear-view mirror.

“Five minutes my ass.” he growled angrily as he turned back to the road ahead of him.

He looked in the mirror to his left to see how close the cops were, and a small red light on the side of the chopper caught his eye. He stared for a moment, wondering what it was, then noticed a glowing dot of the same color crawling towards his rear tire.

“Oh God, NO!” he yelled as he swerved, but it was too late.

Allen heard and felt the explosion from the rear left of his car, felt the whole thing suddenly spin left, and watched the road he’d previously been traveling down rush up to meet the right of his car. There was nothing he could do to stop what was about to happen, so he did the only thing that he could think of at that moment.

He placed one hand on the ceiling and braced for impact.

He quickly shut his eyes as he felt the entire world roll around his SUV, smashing against it and trying to crush him alive while also trying to cut him to ribbons with all the glass shards bouncing around inside. This continued for what felt like an eternity before the car finally, mercifully, came to a stop on its left side.

Allen moaned painfully as the world continued to blur and spin around him, his rifle case resting on top of his right arm. He was covered in cuts from the shattered windows, and his forehead rang painfully where he’d smacked it against the steering wheel, accentuating the already intense pain radiating from his nose. Outside, he heard the remaining three cruisers screech to a stop and deposit their occupants, as well as the beat of the chopper’s propeller above him.

Well, fuck. he thought grimly as he heard footsteps approaching his overturned SUV.

Suddenly a shot rang out, and the footsteps retreated back the way they’d come. “Enemy in the alley! Enemy in the alley!” he heard one of them yell. Allen sat confused for a moment, then noticed two flashes through the car’s sunroof as two more shots rang out. He heard the sound of something hitting the upturned side of his car, then the hum of the chopper disappearing into the night.

“Get yer ass movin’ man! I ain’t got all damn day!” he heard someone shout.

Skeeter!? Allen thought as he holstered the revolver still clutched in his hand and began to crawl out through the sun roof, dragging the rifle case with him. Once outside, he slung it onto his back and limped over to where his best friend was crouched behind a dumpster with his lever-action shotgun, taking cover directly behind him and re-drawing the revolver.

“How’d you find me?” he asked.

“Yer all over the news. Kinda hard not to know where ya’ll are.” Skeeter replied. “Before we go any further, I got one question: Didja get ‘em?” Allen had told Skeeter about Admin's lead before he'd left for the bunker.

“Yes.” Allen said shortly.

Skeeter looked at him in confusion. “Ya don’t sound too happy ‘bout it.”

Allen was about to respond when his phone rang. He slid it out of his pocket and punched the answer key while Skeeter resumed firing. “It’s about damn time!”

“Sorry, I had a few kinks to work out of the programming.” The Administrator responded. “Besides, did it really kill you to wait a few more seconds?”

“ALMOST, YEAH!!” he yelled into the phone.

“Okay! Calm down! Jesus…”

“Who the hell’r ya’ll screamin’ at?” Skeeter asked.

“My boss.” Allen answered before turning back to the phone. “Look, could you please just do your thing so I can get out of here?”

“Hold please.” they replied. “Launching Smokescreen…now.”

Suddenly a dull ‘boom’ sounded in the distance. Everyone stopped firing as they heard it, lights all around them starting to flicker on and off at random.

“Hey, is this killer light show part of the plan?”

“No, it isn’t. Something’s not right.” they replied. Allen swore he could hear keys being punched in the background as the Administrator growled at his computer screen. “No, no, no, knock that shit off.”

The lights began flickering more rapidly. “Admin, what the hell’s going on!? What’s wrong!?”

“I don’t know! I-wait a minute. What the hell is-oh God. Oh God,please! No!” Allen’s head snapped toward his phone at the sudden change in tone.

“Admin?”

“No. No, no, no, no, no! NO! ABORT! ABORT!” they screamed, the morpher crackling as it was subject to the unnaturally high volume of the Administrator’s voice.

“Admin, what the-hello? Admin?” Allen looked down at his phone, and the black screen stared back.

“Al, what the hell’s yer guy doin’!?”

“I don’t know, but I have a bad-”

And then he heard it.

It was the loudest, lowest baseline he’d ever heard. The ground began to shudder as the volume increased, and everyone in the city covered their ears in an effort to preserve their hearing.

Both boys watched open-mouthed as every building in the city went dark, one by one. The streets below them grew darker and darker, and a black shroud fell over the entire city. Only after the last skyscraper had blacked out did the noise finally stop.

For a moment, neither of the two boys dared to do anything but breathe. Finally, Allen spoke quietly.

“Skeeter?”

“Yeah?”

“We need to go. Now.”

“Uh-huh.” Skeeter agreed, getting up and leading the way to his truck.

Allen stayed back for a moment, then turned away from the comatose city and limped after his best friend.

((((((*******))))))

Present

“They never forgave me for what they’d had to do that night.” Allen said somberly. “They blamed it on my incompetence as a fixer, saying that it wouldn’t have happened if I’d been more careful. And what finally pushed me over the edge is that they were right. I was truly out of control.

“They wouldn’t let me quit, saying that I owed them for what I’d forced them to do to this city. They told me I couldn’t walk until Las Vegas was safe again. So, not one week after the incident, I was back to whacking high-rollers and gang members.

“Eventually, I managed to get over myself and start reaching out again, even if I only had Skeeter and his brother left to reach out to. Still, there was always that little voice in the back of my head reminding me of a time when I had completely lost control. I learned that I could tone it down with the occasional glass of brandy, but there was only one surefire way to shut it up completely until my next job.”

“You became a vigilante.” Twilight said.

He nodded in agreement. “I knew I couldn’t make up for what I’d already done to these people, but…I don’t know. There’s just something about helping people that takes the edge off and allows me to sleep at night.”

He sighed and turned to look at her. “Now I have a question for you, and I need you to be completely honest in your answer. It’s a question that has kept me up at night for the past three years; and one that only you, an unbiased third party who knows more about me than anyone else in this world, can answer.”

“You want to know if you deserve forgiveness?” Twilight asked.

“Please.” he replied.

For a moment, she simply stared at the dashboard, uncertain of how to approach the matter.

“I hate to say it, but…well…I’ve never had to judge somebody like this before. I’m not really sure if you’re asking the right person.”

Her heart wrenched as he looked away sadly. “I understand.” he said with a sigh.

She stared for a moment longer, then turned back to the dashboard. He needed this, that much was clear. He wouldn’t have told her everything he just had if it wasn’t extremely important. The least she could do was think about the facts and tell him what she thought.

She wanted to tell him that he did deserve the forgiveness that he desired, given how kind he’d been to her since her arrival and his habit of saving her from armed thugs, but this wasn’t about her. This was about Allen.

This was about the boy who’d lost his immediate family in the space of a few seconds, who’d felt his little brother die in his arms. The boy who lost, not only his family, but any mercy he held for the people who’d taken them from him.

He’d soon gone from being merciless to downright sadistic, holding zero regard for the pain he inflicted on his victims and maybe even going so far as to enjoy it. That in itself would have been enough for her to deem him unforgivable.

Then he’d described the demon in the mirror, and the subsequent madness caused by his guilt. His hatred of the world around him had been replaced by a fear of the monster he’d become. That fear had driven him to completely change paths, and instead help people whenever he could.

But for every person he saved, he killed two more.

He wasn’t evil, but he wasn’t a saint either. He was walking the thin gray line between the two.

She took a deep breath, then turned back to him. He turned to look at her.

“I’m going to be blunt. The things you’ve done are unforgivable. The things you continue to do are unforgivable.” She watched his expression fall back into miserable acceptance, then continued. “Having said that, I think there’s still hope for you.”

He looked back at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You aren’t like any of the other people in this city. You aren’t greedy, sadistic, or anything else that they are. You’re not the picture of innocence, but despite everything you’ve already done, you’re still trying to be a good person. Right now, I think you’re walking the line between being what Frost was and what your stepfather was.”

Allen thought about her words for a moment. “So what you’re saying is…”

“I think you still have a choice.” Twilight finished.

Allen looked down and contemplated the steering wheel. He wasn’t forgiven, but he wasn’t condemned either. He didn’t have to be a murderer. He could be anything he wanted.

He wondered when the last time was that he’d had a choice at all, let alone one this important. Then he smiled.

He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. He fully intended to make the best of his next one.

“Thank you.” he said to Twilight, who smiled warmly in response. “After all that I’ve done, it’s nice to know that my life isn’t set in stone.”

She returned his smile. “You’re welcome.”

She continued to watch him as he turned to smile at the steering wheel in front of him. That’s a good look for him. she thought with satisfaction.

He suddenly looked up in realization. “And I couldn’t have heard this on a better day, either.”

She raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Allen grinned happily as he looked at her. “I’m retired.”

“Retired?” she asked in confusion, then the realization hit her. “Wait…retired!?”

He nodded, still grinning. “Goodman was my last job. With him out of the way, a new guy can step in and clean up the mess he and Frost made of this city. This’ll allow the Administrator’s organization to operate more smoothly, so he said he didn’t need me anymore.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s great!” she said, beaming.

“You still coming with us to blow up the car I used to get to the job?”

“Absolutely!” she said enthusiastically, before realizing what she’d just agreed to. “Umm…why are you blowing up a car?”

“Because it’s an ugly piece of ecoshit that handles like a pregnant whale.” Allen said casually.

Twilight stared at him for a moment. “Ooooookay then!” she said, turning away to look out the window at the other car.

Allen chuckled softly and leaned his head back, content to wait out the rest of the blackout in peaceful silence.

And just like that…it never happened.

Allen frowned as the voice of his guilt interrupted his happiness. You just don’t give up, do you?

You think any of what she said changes anything? You have a choice…good for you. What are you going to do with it?

I’ll figure it out.

I already have.

Oh?

You might think that you’ve changed, that you’re not the angry brat that you were when this all started. You know the truth, though. You’ll never change.

Whatever you say.

Don’t believe me? You’re still angry, I can feel it. You can feign pacifism all you want, but one day you’re going to snap. And I can’t wait until you do.

Suddenly, the lights in the parking garage came back on. Allen stretched in his seat, then started the car. Well you might have to.

“I’m pretty sure they’ve given up the search by now. I don’t know about you, but I’m freaking exhausted.” said Allen.

Twilight nodded her agreement. “Let’s get out of here.”

“To Skeeter’s we go.” he said as he pulled out and set off. Twilight gave him a look, which he returned. “He’s going to want to take a look at Beauty. By the way, be ready for an earful.”

“Speaking of which, I had some questions I wanted to ask you over lunch about this world’s physics. I hope you don’t mind.” she said with mock innocence.

“Oh joy.” Allen grumbled in mock annoyance as he made for the garage’s exit, smiling as she chuckled.

He pulled up the ramp and then suddenly stopped. For a moment, the two of them just stared straight ahead, not saying a word.

“How?” Twilight asked, finally breaking the tense silence that had befallen them.

“I don’t know.” Allen responded as he covered his face again and opened the door. “Just stay here.”

He got out, shut the door, and calmly walked to the front of the car with his hands raised and faced the large platoon of feds surrounding the exit.

Simmons motioned toward Allen and suddenly about fifty guns were being aimed at him.

“Step away from the vehicle!” he called.

Huh? Allen thought as he complied. Why are they telling me to-?

He was interrupted as Simmons spoke again. “I’m sorry about this Ghost. I tried to work this out peacefully, but you’ve left me no choice.” He suddenly raised a hand in the air. Allen looked around as a few guns were cocked and loaded.

He quickly realized he was standing before a firing squad, ready for execution. Simmons stood in front of them, ready to end his life with a simple hand gesture.

Allen’s brow contracted in anger, and he made two rude gestures of his own as he braced himself for the bullet storm head his way.

“Wait!”

His eyes widened as he heard a door open and running footsteps. He turned and saw Twilight running to stand in front of him. “Twilight! Are you crazy!?”

“Ma’am, step away from the Ghost and get down on the ground!” ordered Simmons.

“Let him go and I’ll come quietly!” she retorted.

“No you won’t!” Allen said angrily. After all he’d done to protect her, he couldn’t let her just surrender to the feds, and especially not for his sake.

Simmons stood shocked for a moment, then quickly recovered. “Why? When we can just kill him and take you anyway?”

“Because if you kill him, I’ll make sure a good half of you go down with him.”

“Twilight!” Allen growled, grabbing her arm.

She shook him off and turned to him. “I’m not letting them kill you. It’s not fair.”

“You know what else isn’t fair? A random brainy chick as kind as you coming here from a whole other universe just to wind up a torture victim by the federal government!” he said desperately.

“They’ll take me no matter what you do. Just give up.”

“Absolutely not!” Allen said, then brandished his knife at three soldiers approaching them. “Back off.” he growled, causing the men to stop and point their guns at him again. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Twilight smiling sadly at him.

“Allen…”

“No.

“Please. I don’t want to see you go down in a hail of gunfire. I’m not worth that.”

He turned to face her. “You’re right. You’re worth so much more than that.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise at that. “What’s that supposed to-?”

She was interrupted as feds slapped handcuffs on her and forced Allen to his knees at gunpoint, the knife clattering to the ground behind him. Allen watched helpless from the pavement where the agents had him pinned as she was led to one of the SUVs and shoved into the back. She gave him one final sad smile before the armored vehicle took off and she disappeared from view.

Allen sat watching the SUV long after it disappeared from view. Eventually, the feds let go of him and backed away, guns raised. They needn’t have bothered, though. Allen didn’t even bother getting up as the feds got back in their respective vehicles and sped off after the SUV.

He sat there long after they disappeared.

Then he got up, retrieved his knife, got back in his car, and drove back to Skeeter’s garage.

Author's Note

The feds have won.
As usual be sure to leave a comment giving me your thoughts, and hit that thumbs-up if you enjoyed.
Love you guys. See you later. :twilightsmile:

Ch.20-The Patriot

Twilight was huddled in the corner of the small white room that the soldiers had placed her in. A medic had come by earlier to remove the bullet in her shoulder and give the wound proper attention, a process which had caused her an excruciating amount of pain. After that, however, she had been left alone to observe the few semi-notable aspects of her cell and let her mind wander.

She thought about her family back home, trying so hard to figure out how to open the Breach Gate. Once again, she was facing the prospect of never seeing them again. Only now, instead of being murdered by a psychopath, she was being taken captive by this country's government.

She wondered what was going to happen to her. She knew the feds wanted to interrogate her for information on how to get to Equestria, but what methods would they use? Would they resort to torture? What would they do with the information she gave them?

She had no doubt that they would eventually get what they wanted from her, whether she was willing to cooperate or not. The only thing that could prevent them from reaching Equestria after that was finding out where the portal would appear and getting there before it closed, but she doubted that would stop any creatures as persistent and technologically advanced as them.

For a moment, out of dread for what was coming, Twilight quietly wondered if she’d made the right decision by giving herself over to the feds. Then she mentally slapped herself for the second time that night. Of course she had.

Her capture had been inevitable. The outcome of their last encounter with the feds had been the most desirable, especially considering what they’d been about to do to Allen.

Thinking about Allen made her contemplate what he’d said to her right before her capture.

You’re worth so much more than that. What did he mean by that? she thought as she stared at the opposite wall, then shrugged in dismissal. It didn’t matter anymore anyway.

In a couple of hours, she’d be on her way to the country’s capital for her interrogation, and then she’d have plenty of other things to worry about.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door to her cell suddenly opened. Her eyes narrowed as the source of her misfortune stepped in and closed the door behind him.

Simmons looked over and smirked at her angry look. “You look like you really want to kill me.”

“Kill, no. Disfigure, maybe.” she replied icily. Her magic had recharged quite a bit while she’d been sitting in the cell, and already several oddly enticing ideas for retaliating against her captor were swimming around in her head.

“But you won’t. Why? Because you know if you do, your slim shady of a boyfriend will be dead where he stands.”

Twilight said nothing as she continued to glare at him. Simmons shook his head as he leaned against the wall opposite her and crossed his arms.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions, and I want some honest answers in return. Understood?”

“Fine.” she replied shortly.

“Why did you come to our universe?”

“For research purposes.”

“What was so interesting about our universe that you wanted to research it?”

“It wasn’t about your universe. It was about understanding the Breach Gate, and before I could go any further with my research I had to know how to operate it.”

Simmons raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you mean? Didn’t you already send someone through it a few years ago?”

Now it was Twilight’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “A few years ago? The only other pony to figure out how to activate the Breach was Star Swirl the Bearded, and he vanished over a thousand years ago. I only managed to figure it out a few days before I traveled here.”

Simmons stared at her for a moment at the term ‘pony’ and of the use of such a strange name, then mentally shrugged. Remus had told him that the first ‘visitor’ hadn’t used to be human. That and, quite honestly, it wasn’t the strangest thing he’d heard all week.

“So what are you saying?” he continued, an edge creeping into his voice. “That my boss is lying to me?”

“It’s possible. After all, honest people seem to be in extremely short supply in this universe. There does, however, seem to be a surplus of armed gunmen willing to follow orders.”

“That’s cute coming from you.” he said with a smile.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if all you were doing was testing the Breach gate, then why are you still here a good week later?”

Twilight sighed. “I was attacked by three gang members shortly after arriving, and they knocked me out before I could get back to the portal.”

“All your power and you couldn’t handle three guys?” Simmons asked. “I find that hard to believe.”

Twilight visibly blushed at that. “Look, I didn’t realize they were dangerous until it was too late, alright!? I was hit in the head with a pipe, which prevented me from using my magic and…wait. Why am I trying to justify myself to you?”

Simmons said nothing, instead continuing to stare at her in thought. Was she acting? It seemed likely, and maybe she could’ve used that ‘magic’ to fake her blush. She could be trying to manipulate him into letting her go.

Or she could be telling the truth.

Simmons shook his head in annoyance. You idiot. You’re thinking exactly the way she wants you to.

She suddenly interrupted his thoughts. “Can I ask you a question now?”

“No.” he said without hesitation. She continued anyway.

“Why are you here? Why can’t you just let me enjoy the last few hours of my interrogation-free life in peace?”

Simmons put his hands in his pockets. “I’m trying to determine whether or not you can be honest with me.”

“Why does that matter?” she asked.

Simmons sighed, wondering why he was even wasting his time with this. “Let’s just say your little act of heroism at the parking garage caught me off guard. I was told that I was hunting down a cold-blooded terrorist, and as far as I know cold-blooded terrorists don’t go sacrificing themselves for random people.”

“Well, gee! I wonder what that could possibly mean!” Twilight replied as sarcastically as she could.

“Look, I know what you’re trying to tell me, but I also know what my boss has told me. Who am I going to believe: the esteemed Cabinet member whom I’ve worked for and who’s helped prevent terrorist attacks for the past two years, or the weird interdimensional chick with superpowers?”

“That’s a good question, actually.” she said. “Do you trust the girl who’s been doing her best to avoid, not only you, but any human being other than the two she’s already met? Or should you trust the man who’s sent you halfway across the country to kidnap said girl, bring her back for interrogation, and get ready to invade a country that you’ve probably never even heard of until just recently?”

Simmons opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. “Another question: what did he promise you in return for doing this? Nobody in this universe does anything for free, so what did he promise you?”

Simmons thought briefly about the Cabinet position that awaited him back in D.C., and about Myles’ huge budget increase. Could they have been nothing more than bribes? Incentives to do as they were told without asking too many questions?

He shook his head angrily and glared at her. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Considering it’s probably the main reason I’m here, I disagree.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter what I’m getting out of this. What matters is why you, who supposedly aren’t even supposed to be here, would bother giving yourself up for a complete stranger, and a cold-blooded murderer at that.”

“Maybe because he’s not as cold-blooded as you think he is.” she spat. “And also, says the man who would’ve watched him get torn apart by gunfire without even flinching.”

“I do what I do in service of my country. It may not be pretty, but it is necessary.”

“Are you serving your country? Or are you serving one man?”

He stared at her for a moment, contemplating her question as well as her body language.

She glared back at him, silently daring him to continue.

He suddenly straightened up and opened the cell door, turning around just before he left. She simply continued to glare at him. He lingered for another moment before exiting the cell, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Twilight sighed and leaned her head back against the wall, once more alone with her thoughts.

((((((*******))))))

Simmons exited the trailer and walked over to stand on a nearby ridge, away from the rest of the operation. Once he was sure that no one was going to overhear him, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and put it to his ear. “So? What do you think?”

“I’m no master at reading people like you are, but it sounds like she’s telling the truth.” replied Myles, who’d been on speakerphone during the conversation.

Simmons grunted and began to chew his lip in thought.

“Simmons? Do you really think we’re being used?”

He was silent for a moment as he considered the question, then sighed. “Quite honestly Myles, I don’t know. The more I talk to this girl the more I’m convinced that she’s telling the truth. Remus might have lied to us about the first incident, if there even was a first incident. He might have a more personal interest in whatever is on the other side of that Breach. If that’s the case, then there might be more at stake than national security.”

“So…what do we do then? We’re so far into this mess that we don’t exactly have many options. If someone finds out that we know what we do, Remus will know eventually. Then, God only knows what’ll happen to us.”

“Which is why I’m giving you a chance to save yourself.” Simmons said. “You tell Remus that I’ve gone rogue, and that should absolve you of all responsibility. I’ll figure out what I’m going to do about this, then go into hiding and hope for the best.”

“You’re joking, right?” Myles asked flatly.

“Myles, listen. I-”

“No, you listen. You and I have been working together since freshman year in high school. We’ve always had each other’s backs, and that’s not going to stop here. Got it? Whatever half-baked plan is rattling around in that government-issued cranium of yours, count me in.”

Simmons couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t ever change, Myles.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Now what’s the play coach?”

Simmons began pacing along the ridge, contemplating what their next move should be. As soon as Remus found out that they were acting against him, they’d become priority targets. They needed to keep their defection a secret for as long as possible, or they’d never be able to bring him to justice. The problem, however, was that Remus was privy to the operation’s every move. Trying to do anything without him noticing would be impossible.

Unless they didn’t do anything.

Simmons grinned as a lightbulb went off in his head. “Myles, are you ready for a challenge?”

“Bring it.” Myles answered.

“I need the name and number of a man who we know absolutely nothing about, and I need it within the next hour.”

“Ghost?”

“Ghost.”

“I’m not sure he’s going to be entirely thrilled with the idea of helping us, considering all the hell we’ve put him through tonight, let alone the rest of this week.”

“On the contrary, my friend. He won’t be able to say no once I tell him what we’re offering.”

“You sound like an evil mastermind, and I love it. Luckily for you, I decided to record both of your conversations with him, which means I have a pretty mean voice print of our soon-to-be associate. Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll give you an audience with the most dangerous man in Las Vegas.”

“Sweeeet.” Simmons said happily.

There was a few minutes’ silence, broken only by the repetitious clicking coming from one end of the line. Then Myles spoke up.

“Holy shit…”

“What? Did you find out who he is?”

“Of course I did, and my decryption software’s working on retrieving his number. However, I also found a whole bunch of other things that I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Spare me the details. I just need his number.”

“Right, right, sorry. The encryption on his phone is surprisingly heavy, so this might take about fifteen minutes. I suggest you figure out what you want to say to him, and try to keep it short.”

“Alright, see you in fifteen minutes then.” Simmons said before hanging up and resuming his thoughtful pacing.

Author's Note

Aaahh...good to be back. :derpytongue2:
Be sure to leave a comment and give me a thumbs-up if you enjoyed.
Peace. :twilightsmile:

Ch.21-My Enemy, My Ally

Arnold sped towards his brother’s garage, his Jeep’s engine shattering the early-morning silence of the southern district.

He’d landed at the airport a little over an hour ago, picturing the look on Skeeter’s face when he realized his twin brother had come home a full day early and drenched him with bucket of cold water, when all the lights in the airport had begun flickering and then went out. A quick look through a window at the blacked-out city was all he’d needed to confirm his suspicions.

Unfortunately, though he would’ve preferred to leave as soon as possible, he’d had to wait for the power to come back on so that he could retrieve his luggage. He was transporting a large case of ammunition back to the family garage to add to their already impressive stockpile, as well as more rifle rounds for Allen. Leaving said case behind would’ve been almost as good as walking into a police station with a loaded gun, so he’d been forced to wait for the power to come back on.

Questions burned through his mind, mainly why the city had been shut down for a second time, as he finally approached his destination.

“Holy shit…” he breathed as a battle-weary Black Beauty came into view. The entire chassis was covered in dents and bullet holes of varying sizes, the windows were all gone, and the right mirror was missing. He also noticed that both of the taillights and one of the headlights had been shot out. All in all, it looked as though she too had been in a firefight overseas.

He pulled right up next to the poor beast, shut off the engine, and jogged straight inside. Looking around, he noticed Skeeter sitting alone at his worktable with his head in hands.

“Oi! Skeets!”

The mechanic suddenly jerked up and spun around, grinning when he saw Arnold in the doorway of his shop. “Arnie!? Ya’lls way early, man!”

“Aw, sorry. Ah can head back if ya’ll want.” Arnold joked.

“Man, get yer damn kit and get in here.”

Arnold sniggered as he went back out to retrieve his luggage from the back of his truck, hauling it upstairs to a storage area that had long since been converted into a guest bedroom. He gently set the cases containing the ammunition and his gun on the bed with his heavy duffle bag, then walked back downstairs with the full intention of finding out why he’d been stuck at the airport for over an hour.

He reached the ground floor and looked around, noticing Skeeter back in his prior position at the worktable. He pulled up a stool and took a seat, his brother looking over at him as he did so.

“So…what happened? Why’d the lights all go out again?”

Skeeter breathed a heavy sigh. “It’s kind of a long story. Ya’ll might wanna get comfortable.”

For the next half hour, Arnold listened as Skeeter recounted the events of the last week. He told him about Twilight and what she was capable of, how Allen had found her, the Goodman job, his late-night run to help Allen rescue her, and her eventual capture by the federal occupation.

He shook his head sadly as the story finished. “Where’s he at now?”

“Roof. Just leave him be.” Skeeter said as he saw him start toward the service ladder to the roof. “He’s in kind of a mood right now ‘causa what we found under the passenger seat.”

“What?” asked Arnold. Skeeter gestured toward the shattered remains of an extremely tiny device on the table.

“A beacon ‘r somethin’. He said their leader musta’ dropped it there at some point ‘r another. He thought they was watchin’ him through the cameras.”

“All that fer nothin’.” he said sadly, shaking his head again. “His boss musta’ been pissed.”

Skeeter visibly shuddered. “Yeah, fer about five seconds. After that, Ah ain’t never seen Allen so angry or heard him shout for so long. Ah don’t know what Admin said; but Allen threatened to, and Ah quote, ‘stuff his next word back down his throat with a sniper round if he heard from them any sooner than tomorrow evening’.”

“Damn…and ta think he used to be scared a’ them. Whaddya think made him so angry?”

“Honestly, Ah think he liked er’.” Skeeter replied.

“Yer kiddin’.”

“Ah asked him a’ course, and he denied it, but Ah saw the way he was lookin’ at ‘er the other day. He almost couldn’t take his eyes off ‘er.”

Arnold shook his head again. He, like Skeeter, remembered a time when Allen had been more than a little socially guarded. Years of surviving on the open streets had made it difficult for him to trust anyone who wasn’t family. He and Skeeter had become friends by accident when they’d both been caught stealing from the same corner store and had to make a getaway. Skeeter had invited him to hide out in his garage while they waited for the cops to give up, and the three had quickly become good friends.

Even after that, however, Allen’s trust issues had persisted. While he managed to give them both a variety of well thought-out excuses on why he didn’t have a girlfriend, they both secretly knew it was because he hadn’t achieved that level of trust yet.

So it must have been absolutely devastating, Arnold thought, to finally trust someone that much only to have her stolen from him.

When is this world gonna leave ya’ll be, Al?

((((((*******))))))

Allen sat in a lawn chair on the roof, still fuming over his most recent conversation with the Administrator.

No sooner had Skeeter discovered the pill-sized tracker hiding in the area next to his passenger seat than his boss had called and started screaming at him about the city-wide blackout he’d wasted. Allen, having already spent his vast reserves of patience for the day, had immediately begun screaming back. After a good five minutes of uninterrupted rage, followed by a death threat that he’d be more than happy to make good on, he’d finally hung up and told a wide-eyed Skeeter that he was going to the roof to cool down.

After a few minutes, his anger slowly began to simmer back down into guilt. He’d promised Twilight that he’d keep her safe. He’d promised her that she’d be back home with her friends and family in no time at all. And then he’d led her straight into a trap.

It had been the absolute simplest piece of technology. A radio no bigger than his thumbnail, dropped on the floor next to the seat without him noticing. He’d believed them to be safe when the virus had been activated, so he’d hidden in the parking garage to wait out the feds. He’d thought that finding them would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Instead, the situation had been similar to a cat waiting directly outside of a mouse hole.

The worst part had been admitting defeat. The Administrator had never been able to locate their base of operations, which was obviously hidden somewhere outside of the city, and the soldiers that had captured them had made sure he stayed put until Twilight was long gone. He could get in the Mach 1 and start searching the outskirts for their base, but that could take hours and they probably wouldn’t stick around for long now that their mission was complete. Even if he did find them, he didn’t stand a chance against the entire federal occupation.

Allen removed his hat and ran a hand down his face as he slumped further into the chair, staring down at his boots. The day had been long and taxing, the night even more so, and already he could feel his eyelids drifting shut.

He made no effort to keep them open, instead praying for a dreamless sleep. Just a few hours of absolute ignorance.

He growled in annoyance as he heard his phone ring in his pocket.

Cursing quietly, he searched through his jacket pocket for the offending device and answered it. “Admin, what did I just fucking-”

“Ghost?” interrupted a familiar voice.

Allen sat stock still for a few seconds before getting to his feet, his anger returning full-force as he paced the rooftop. “And what the hell do you want? You call to gloat?”

“No, I-”

“You got what you wanted, right? You succeeded in kidnapping an innocent girl, and now all that’s left to do is for you to return to Area 51 or wherever it is you’re from, right!? What more could you possibly want!?”

“To tell you which route we’re taking out of Vegas so you can come pick her up.” Simmons replied calmly.

Allen abruptly stopped pacing and stared straight. “What?”

“I need you to listen carefully, because I don’t want to talk to you longer than I have to. We’re taking highway fifteen, the most capital-direct route out of the city. Your friend will be in a cell at the front of a semi trailer, which will be surrounded by four heavily armored SUVs. I suggest you hurry up and get in position, because we’re leaving soon.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Simmons sighed. “Let’s just say our conversation in the desert is starting to hit home. I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I’m not so sure. I want to give her back to you, but I also want to conceal my involvement. So…I need you to miraculously find out what route we’re taking and intercept us.”

Allen chewed his lip in thought. On one hand, this might be his only chance to save Twilight. On the other, he could be walking into another trap.

He shook his head. Trap or not, he was getting Twilight back from the feds.

“Alright, then.” he said to Simmons. “See you in a bit.”

“Good luck, sir.” the captain replied before hanging up. Allen put the phone back in his pocket, picked up his hat, and slid down the ladder to the lot below.

Skeeter and Arnold looked up as he reentered the garage, staring at him as he began pacing around the garage and muttering to himself. Both men exchanged confused looks before Arnold spoke up. “Hey Al? Ya’ll uhh…ya’ll okay?”

Allen abruptly stopped and spun around, looking at him in surprise. “Arnold? When did you get here?”

“Bout twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh.” Allen replied, still staring at him in surprise. He suddenly shook his head and gave him a serious look. “Did you bring your SMG?”

“Yeah, got it upstairs.” Arnold replied, eyebrow raised in confusion. “Why?”

“Go get it. Skeeter, grab your lever-action and the keys to October. I’ll explain everything on the way to my house. We don’t have much time.”

((((((*******))))))

Simmons sighed as he ended the call, then put the phone to his ear again. “Well, my faithful accomplice, that’s that. We are officially guilty of treason.”

“Meh.” Myles replied flatly. “So, is this the part where you go into hiding? Shall I get to work on your falsified credentials?”

“No, I can’t. I need to stay.”

“What!? That’s suicide! You’re seriously going to stick around after pissing in Remus’ beer like that!?”

“If we’re going to bring Remus down, we’re going to need to know all of his dirty little secrets. All we have to go on right now are hunches and the words of two questionably innocent people. The only way I’ll be able to get more dirt on him is by working closely with him.”

“You’re insane.”

“Possibly, which is why I’m telling you to back out now. The only way they’re going to find out about my involvement in this is if someone has managed to break into the secure connection you established between me and Ghost. If they’ve managed to do that, then they’ll be after both of us. It’ll be the end for me, but you still have a chance.”

“Screw that.” Myles snapped.

“Myles, please. I’m not asking as your superior. I’m asking as your friend.”

“We already discussed this. If you’re gonna to be digging up skeletons on anyone, you know you’re going to need me. That, and if worse comes worst, I at least want to know what happened to you.”

Simmons sighed in exasperation. “Fine. God, you’re stubborn.”

“Likewise.”

There was a long pause as the two men took in the gravity of the commitment they’d just made. Suddenly, Simmons heard someone shouting behind him. He turned to see his newly-promoted lieutenant waving him back to the convoy.

“Looks like we’re heading out. I’ll call you back after it happens.”

“I’ll be waiting. And Simmons?”

“Yeah?”

“No matter what happens after this, I just want you to know that it’s been a pleasure working with you.”

Simmons smiled warmly. “The pleasure was mine, Mr. Avalon. Now do me a favor and turn back into your regular cocky self. I miss the jokes.”

Myles chuckled. “Can do, boss. See ya in a bit!”

“Peace.” Simmons said before hanging up and making his way back to the trailer.

Author's Note

It takes a brave man to stand up against the odds for what he believes is right, but it takes a braver man to stand alone.
I'd like to thank you guys for all the positive feedback I received after completing the revisions. It means a lot to me that you guys are still so invested in this story. :heart:
As usual, be sure to give me a thumbs-up if you're enjoying and leave a comment with your thoughts.
Peace. :twilightsmile:

Ch.22-Count On It

Twilight jerked awake at the sound of her cell door opening and looked up to see Simmons closing it behind him. Her eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms and stared at her.

“Can I help you?” she asked, making no effort to hide her displeasure.

“Not really. Just wanted to say goodbye."

“Goodbye?” she repeated, confused.

“Yes, goodbye. You’re leaving.”

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, then narrowed again. “Is that your idea of a joke? What the heck’s wrong with you!?”

“Shhh!” the captain hissed, gesturing for her to quiet down. “None of the other agents know what I’m telling you, and I’d like to keep it that way if you don’t mind.”

“And what exactly are you telling me?”

“I called your friend right before we set off about an hour ago. He knows what route the convoy’s taking and he’s moving to intercept us. I don’t know what he has planned, but I think we can be reasonably certain that you won’t be here much longer.”

“Sorry, I’m just having a little trouble believing anything you say.” she said coldly.

“I completely understand. You have the right to take everything I say with a grain of salt, but just know that he is coming.”

Twilight stared at him for a long moment, trying to detect any traces of dishonesty or amusement. Finding none, she spoke to him in a much calmer tone. “Why are you doing this?”

Simmons hesitated before answering. “Earlier, you asked what my boss was offering me in exchange for capturing you. He’s going to…he said he’s going to guarantee me a position in the president’s inner circle of advisors. All I had to do was capture you and bring you to D.C. without making too much noise and the spot would be mine.”

“That doesn’t sound suspicious at all.” Twilight said sarcastically.

“My partner and I are starting to think that way, too.” Simmons replied. “We were rather surprised by how you responded to your capture. We’ve come to the conclusion that our boss lied to us about you, and there’s a good chance he’s lying about a few other things as well. I don’t know what his real endgame is, but I’m quite certain that it has nothing to do with the well-being of this country.”

Twilight scoffed. “Your point? It seems like everyone in this universe always wants more than they have. What makes you any different?”

“Some of us still hold to the ideals that this country was founded on.” Simmons retorted, then took a breath. “I wanted the Cabinet position because I felt I could do more good there than I’d ever be able to do as a simple CIA agent. I felt it was the only way I’d be able to make a real difference in this world instead of just being another soldier.”

She cocked an eyebrow at that. “Really?”

“God knows this country has enough maniacs with guns.”

Twilight stared at Simmons for a while, beginning to see him in a different light. He glanced around the small cell, slightly uncomfortable with the intensity of her gaze.

“Humans are strange creatures.” she said finally.

“Yeah, we know.”

Twilight gave him a small smile, then turned serious again. “What will you do if your boss finds out what you’re doing?”

“Hopefully, he won’t and I can just pass this off as an accident. He knows Ghost gets help from a professional hacker, so I might be able to use that as an excuse for his sudden appearance. With any luck, I’ll be able to pin all the blame on Ghost, stay in business long enough to find out what my boss is really up to, and bring him to face a Supreme Court justice.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“I’m trying not to think about it too much.” Simmons said nervously. “Consequences for treason can range from a lengthy stint in prison to the death penalty.”

Twilight shook her head sadly. “Of course they can."

Silence filled the small cell after that, both of its occupants waiting patiently for the arrival of the masked man who would rescue Twilight. Simmons was now quietly contemplating what the future held for him if his involvement in her escape was discovered, while Twilight fumbled with a dozen mixed emotions; joy at the prospect of being rescued, surprise at being aided by one of her captors, sympathy for the consequences he could look forward to if his treachery was discovered…

“Captain Simmons?”

“Hm?” he responded, looking back over at her.

“Thank you.” she said. “You’re taking a huge risk to help me escape, and I just want you to know how grateful I am for that.”

Now it was her turn to feel uncomfortable, Simmons cocking his head to the side and studying her while she rubbed her arm anxiously.

He contemplated her for a moment longer before responding. “You know, I think I’m starting to see why Ghost is so adamant about protecting you.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“When Ghost called you innocent, I’ll admit I let the term fly over my head. Let’s face facts: no one in this world is innocent. Everyone’s done something at one point or another with the intent of harming someone else or has taken something that doesn’t belong to them. But you?” he said, pointing at her. “You may not be from around here, but you’re still probably the only truly innocent person in the world.”

Twilight was slightly surprised. “Is this universe really that bad?”

“Maybe, or maybe you’re just-”

Simmons was interrupted as his radio beeped. “Lieutenant Harris to Captain Simmons. Harris to Simmons. Come in.”

“Pardon me.” Simmons said as he slid the radio off of his belt and pressed the button. “Simmons here. Go ahead.”

“A large red pickup just pulled out into the middle of the road up ahead. What are your orders?”

“Can you drive around it?”

“Possibly. Given the terrain, however, it might be slightly ris-WHOOOAAA SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!”

Both Twilight and Simmons cringed at the yelling that suddenly filled the cell. Simmons immediately shot out of the cell, almost forgetting to lock it behind him, and bolted over to a window just in time to see one of the escort vehicles pass by, its left wheel rolling away and bumping into a group of rocks.

A second later, he stumbled away from the window as the trailer gave two huge jolts and knocked a majority of its occupants off their feet. He grabbed onto his desk, which was bolted to the floor, and waited for the trailer to stop shaking.

After a few long seconds of wobbling around like children on a trampoline, the occupants of the command trailer finally managed to stand upright. They began milling about; talking amongst themselves, helping those who fallen back to their feet, and making sure no one had been injured.

Simmons straightened up and walked back over to the window to fumble with the lock, wanting to lean out and see just how serious the damage was.

Before he even reached it, however, he heard his radio beep over the conversations of the other agents.

“QUIET!” he shouted, and the trailer instantly fell silent.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen.” said a familiar voice. “This is Ghost broadcasting on an open channel. Let me explain the situation to you. You are currently holding a good friend of mine inside that trailer, and I want her back. These fine gentlemen are coming to retrieve her, and you are going to keep your hands in the air while they do so.

“Now, fair warning: I’m quite upset about what you guys put us through two hours ago. If you give my boys any grief, or if I see someone’s hand dip behind the dashboard, just remember that bulletproof glass is virtually useless at this range. That is all.”

Simmons stared wide-eyed at his radio for a few seconds. That was some damn good acting, kid. Almost too good.

He shook his head as he slid the radio back onto his belt and went to unlock the cell again.

“Sir! We can’t just hand the anomaly back to him!” said a nearby sergeant. “Not after everything it took to finally catch her!”

“Cullen, are you willing to die here?” Simmons said, proceeding to open the door.

“If I have to, then yes!”

“Well I’m not, and a good three quarters of this convoy would agree. I refuse to have the lives of everyone outside riding on my conscious.” He paused to drag a shaken-looking Twilight out of the cell, then continued in a dangerously low voice. “Do you have a problem with that?”

The sergeant looked away in defeat. “No sir.”

Simmons nodded. “Well, in that case, open the door. We wouldn’t want to keep those ‘fine gentlemen’ waiting, after all.”

((((((*******))))))

“Like fucking fish in a barrel.” Allen said smugly as he loaded a fresh clip into his rifle, the spent clip clattering against the bed of the truck.

“Why wouldja fuck a fish in a barrel? Sounds difficult.” Arnold piped up, effectively shattering his moment of glory as he wrapped a bandanna around his face.

“Why wouldja fuck a fish at all? Also, how wouldja do that?” Skeeter asked, donning his ski mask.

“Why don’t you both go fuck each other?” Allen snapped, irritated at how short-lived his victory had been. “Well play comedy club later, but for now go collect Twi so we can go home.”

“Yes, sir!” they replied in unison, getting out and saluting him before picking up their respective firearms and starting towards the semi.

Allen sighed as he bent down and resumed watching the now-disabled convoy through his scope. You two are gonna give me a fucking aneurysm one day, I swear to God.

He loved the twins like they were his own flesh-and-blood siblings, and treated them as such. At the drop of a hat, he would run to their aid if they ever needed his help. They were the absolute closest thing he’d had to a family after his own family had been taken from him.

Even so, it wasn’t always healthy to deal with both of them at the same time.

He adjusted his focus slightly so he could better see the escorts in the back. He’d been slightly worried about having to deal with four armored SUVs, especially considering how difficult it had been to take out just one. Anxiety had been replaced with confidence, however, when he’d noticed that there was nothing protecting the axels of each escort. The thin metal rods had snapped like twigs under the near-point-blank force of his rifle shots, and he’d had the satisfaction of watching each escort spin out and even flip over on one occasion.

The semi had been even easier to deal with, despite its size. All he’d had to do was pop its front tires and watch it grind to an extremely slow stop on its bumper. It was now so far ahead of its escorts that they posed little to no threat to his friends.

He watched for a moment as they approached the left side of the trailer, which slid open to allow a slightly shaken-looking Twilight to exit. He was pleasantly surprised to see that the feds had given her proper treatment for the wound in her shoulder, then shrugged and resumed panning the scene ahead of him.

The twins arrived and took up positions on either side of her, then began the trek back to the pickup. Allen was surprised by how very smoothly this rescue was going, having expected at least one of the agents to make some risky move in an attempt to gain the upper hand. The fact that they were being so cooperative was…unsettling.

“What are you starchies up to?” he mused.

He got his answer as the trio reached the back wheels of the semi. The passenger suddenly kicked the door open and threw himself at Skeeter, who buckled under the surprise extra weight. Allen took aim, but could not get a clear shot as the two men battled for the upper hand. Arnold dropped his machine gun and stooped down to yank the surprise attacker off of his brother, only to keel over from a hard kick to the gut.

Just off to the side, Allen noticed one of the other agents reach for his door handle and snatched up his radio. “YOU MOVE, YOU DIE!” he yelled, watching the agent raise his hands above his head again before returning his attention to his friend

For a while, Allen watched the fight anxiously, looking for any opening he could use to end it. Just as he was debating on risking a shot, however, Skeeter managed a hard left jab to the agent’s throat followed by a headbutt. As the other man held his nose in agony, Skeeter sprang to his feet and tossed him into the side of the truck, slamming the butt of his shotgun into his temple for good measure.

“Niiiice.” Allen said with a grin as the agent fell unconscious to the road.

The three continued their hike back up the road while his gaze darted between the escorts, the trailer door, and the semi driver. Eventually, they reached the big red pickup and climbed in, Twilight sliding into the back and the twins taking the front seats. Allen waited until they were all settled in before addressing the feds again.

“Thanks to most of you for cooperating. Now, we’re going to leave, and you’re all going to stay put for about ten more minutes. Remember…I’m watching you.”

With that said, he knocked on the roof and Skeeter drove forward. He pivoted in the truck bed as they passed the escorts so he could continue watching them, crosshairs jumping between the escorts and the trailer even as the distance to them continued to grow.

Eventually, Skeeter took them all down a decline and Allen, having lost sight of his targets, opened the back window and squeezed himself back into the cabin. He set the rifle in the space between him and Twilight, then leaned his head back and breathed a sigh of exhaustion. “You fellas know what I’m doing as soon as we get back to the garage.” he said sleepily as he lowered his scarf.

“Amen.” Skeeter replied as he, too, removed his mask.

Arnold chuckled as he untied his bandana. “Ya’lls a coupla’ lightweights, ya know that?”

“Bite me.” Allen replied with a yawn.

Twilight looked blankly between the twins for a few seconds, then shook her head in dismissal. “Thank you guys so much for coming to rescue me."

Arnold turned around in his seat. “It was our pleasure. By the way, Ah don’t belive Ah’ve had the pleasure of makin’ yer acquaintance ma’am.”

“Nor I yours.” Twilight replied cheerfully, extending her hand. “Twilight Sparkle.”

“Arnold Bailey. Pleasure.” he said as he accepted the handshake, making her wince as he nearly crushed her hand with his. “Whoops, sorry. Army grip.”

“Oh no, it’s fine.” she assured him, shaking the feeling back into her hand. “Trust me, I’ve had worse things happen to me tonight.”

Allen chuckled at that. “I’ll say. You took a bullet to the shoulder, survived having a crane fall on top of you, and learned how to drive in less than five minutes.”

“Wait, she can drive?” Skeeter asked suddenly.

“More or less.” Twilight answered. “It’s not like I really had a choice.”

“Oh, so you wanted to hop onto the side of a speeding SUV and take out all three of its occupants by yourself? Why didn’t you just say so?” Allen asked innocently.

“Even if I did want to, you didn’t really give me much time to say anything! You said ‘take the wheel’ and you were gone!”

“Please…you know you enjoyed yourself.”

“I…just…no I didn’t!”

“Will ya’ll two get a room already?” Skeeter suddenly interjected, causing Allen to glare at him.

“Screw you pal.”

“What he said.” Twilight seconded.

“Calm down kiddos.” Arnold said calmly. “Le’s just focus on gettin’ home so I can put ya’ll down for a nap. Lil’ Skeets needs his dipey changed, and Al wants his bottle o’-”

“Skeeter.” Allen said calmly.

“Roger that.” replied the mechanic, who promptly slapped his brother in the back of the head. Said brother just laughed in response, then turned to stare out the window.

Twilight shook her head at their antics. “So what happens now?”

“Now, we lay low.” Allen replied. “Skeeter’s gonna repair the Mach 1, and tomorrow night I have to meet with the Administrator so I can pick up my falsified credentials.”

“I’m comin’ with you.” Skeeter said automatically.

“No. I have to do this alone.”

“Al…”

“No Skeeter.” Allen said firmly, then in a calmer tone, “Thank you, but no. Admin’s more paranoid than I am, and I don’t want to risk scaring them off by bringing any extra help.”

Skeeter opened his mouth to speak, then sighed and closed it. “Fine.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. When I get back, we’re gonna give that Prius what it deserves and have a big bonfire in the middle of the desert.”

“Sounds good.” he said with a smile. Arnold chuckled sinisterly, causing Allen and Twilight to stare at him in confusion.

“What’s so funny?” Twilight asked.

“You’ll see. Tomorrow night.” Skeeter replied, still smiling.

The occupants of the back stared at those of the front for a moment, then shrugged and leaned back to enjoy the rest of the ride.

Twilight stared out the window, watching Las Vegas edge closer with every passing minute. She didn’t think she’d be seeing it ever again, let alone so soon. She never thought she’d ever see another friendly face again, and yet here she was surrounded by the biggest bunch of jokers she’d ever met.

She turned to look at the reason for her good fortune, which had its head leaned back against the seat, trademark fedora resting on its lap. Allen seemed to sense her staring at him and looked back at her with tired eyes.

For a moment, they both just stared at each other; then Allen cracked a wide, cocky grin. Twilight smiled back at him, then turned to resume staring out the window.

Gang members, feds, entire armies could come after her, but she knew he’d be right there beside her, ready to face them no matter the risk.

Author's Note

This took longer than I intended it to. I think I'm losing my touch.
The next chapter might take a while, as I'm going through a few financial issues at the moment. Don't worry, though. I won't be gone for nearly as long as last time. :twilightsheepish:
As always be sure to leave me a comment with your thoughts and click the like button if you enjoyed.
Peace! :twilightsmile:

Ch.23-New Developments

Las Vegas

“This is gonna suck.” Simmons said with a sigh as he put the phone to his ear.

All around him, agents were busy trying to repair the damage Ghost had done to the convoy, a task made even more difficult by the way he’d disabled it. The only agents with any mechanical knowledge had already determined that the escorts were useless until they could get back to the city and buy replacement parts, which of course meant that they’d all have to cram together inside the comparatively small command center.

Still, none of them complained.

At least they didn’t have to give Remus the bad news.

“Think of it like cough medicine.” Myles said reassuringly. “Just do it and it’ll be over before you know it.”

“Right. Cough medicine. Because a bad taste in my mouth is the absolute worst thing I have to worry about if this goes wrong.”

There was a sigh on the other end. “The glass is always half empty with you, isn’t it?”

Simmons was about to reply when the dial tone suddenly ended and the slightly anxious-sounding voice of his commander answered. “Captain Simmons, I thought I told you not to call me until you were back in D.C. Where are you?”

Simmons sighed again before answering. “We’re broken down in the middle of the Nevada desert. Sir, the anomaly has escaped.”

There was a moment’s pause.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?” Remus yelled, forcing Simmons to hold the phone away from his ear in order to preserve his hearing. “YOU HAD HER LOCKED UP IN THE COMMAND CENTER, SURROUNDED BY GUARDS,…AND SHE STILL GOT AWAY!?”

“There wasn’t much we could do to stop her, sir.”

“BULLSHIT!! YOU TOLD ME YOU’D MADE SURE SHE COULDN’T USE HER ABILITIES!!”

“She had help from the hitman, sir. I-”

“HOW THE HELL DID HE KNOW WHERE YOU WERE GOING!?”

“Ghost does have a skilled hacker working for him, sir. Perhaps said hacker was tracking us as we left.”

Remus groaned in frustration. “This is bullshit. Please tell me that you haven’t been compromised, at least.”

“We have not, though the chances of that happening get better the longer we stay.”

“No one’s more acutely aware of that fact than me.” the commander mumbled, then as an afterthought, “Well, except for you and Myles maybe.”

Simmons breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Remus didn’t suspect his involvement at all, which meant that he and Myles were still safe.

“So far we’ve been able to pass off any ‘mishaps’ as gang-related activity, which has had the added benefit of putting some distance between us and curious civilians.” he continued. “Still, it’s only a matter of time before someone starts doing the math, and then we could have a real mess on our hands. It doesn’t help that the only person who knows exactly where the anomaly is hiding manages to disappear every time we get close to him.”

“Speaking of which, why have I never heard of this ‘Ghost’ before?” Remus asked, wonder evident in his tone. “I mean, you’d think a marksman of that caliber would be famous all over the country.”

“I think it’s because his activity is centralized in Vegas. He’s never operated anywhere else, so he’s not as big of an issue anywhere else.”

“And you have no way to find out who he is?”

“No. He takes extreme care to never leave any noticeable traces wherever he goes, and any digital footprints he leaves behind are quickly scrubbed off by that hacker of his. And, of course, there’s no one left alive who knows what he looks like. We were lucky to capture him for half an hour before he escaped for the city.”

“And?”

“The best I could determine is that he’s about twenty and has some serious trust issues.”

The line was silent for a few moments. Simmons cleared his throat and held the phone away from his ear slightly, just in case.

“What was he wearing?” the commander asked calmly.

“Um…” Simmons began. Of all the ways Remus could have responded to his lack of information, a request for a description of the fugitive’s attire was at the bottom of the list. “…a black trench coat, a gray scarf over his face, and a black fedora. Why?”

“I’ll call you back in a second.” Remus said suddenly, the line going dead immediately after.

Simmons stared at the phone for a second, more confused than ever, then put it back to his ear. “That was…strange.”

“Do you think he knows who he is?” Myles asked, sounding as confused as Simmons felt.

“I think we’ll find out when he calls back.”

((((((*******))))))

Washington D.C.

Remus ignored the stares he received from those he passed by as he hurried to the bathroom. He entered the furthest stall from the door, locked it, and immediately drew his phone out of his pocket.

“It’s not possible. There’s no way it’s him.” he muttered as he opened his browser and began searching old news headlines.

There was only one person he knew that matched the profile that Simmons had just given him, and his mention of the Ghost’s fedora only supported his hypothesis. The problem was that said person was supposed to be dead. While his continued good health was a truly outlandish concept, it would explain why his go-to retrieval man was having so much trouble. But there was only one way to be sure that it was actually him.

After a few minutes of searching, he finally found the major headline he was looking for. His eyes narrowed as he read.

CITY-WIDE BLACKOUT CAUSED BY MURDER SUSPECT

Last night, at around 9 p.m., police were dispatched to investigate reports of gunfire accompanied by an explosion on the Las Vegas outskirts. The investigation quickly escalated into a high-speed chase as a maroon SUV was spotted fleeing from the scene. The chase lasted for about ten minutes before police managed to disable the suspect’s vehicle.

The suspect and their accomplice, both of which remain unidentified, are believed to have evaded capture by use of last night’s city-wide power failure. Investigators suspect that the blackout, which caused the deaths of just over five hundred innocent people as well as thousands of dollars in property damage, was caused by a homemade computer virus created as a contingency plan.

Having lost the suspect, police moved to investigate the aforementioned gunfire, and were shocked to discover a repurposed Cold War bunker littered with close to twenty dead bodies. Sergeant Watson commented on the scene: “We’ve been in a high-speed chase, seen Vegas go completely dark, and stumbled upon what appears to be a recently-destroyed smuggler’s checkpoint covered in corpses…all on the same night. You’d think we’d seen everything, right? So did we.”

Officers were surprised for the fourth time that night when the body of Michalis Frost, the infamous King of Las Vegas, was discovered in what appeared to be his office with two knives buried in his chest and a large bullet wound in his forehead. Watson continues: “Frost was supposed to be untouchable, yet here we find him slaughtered like some kind of animal. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little scared of whoever did this to him.”

Even more shocking, the forensics teams tasked with uncovering the identity of the killer are already calling for the case’s dismissal. “There’s no trace of the culprit on the scene or in the getaway vehicle. No fingerprints, no DNA samples of any kind, the security footage was corrupted somehow…whoever they are, they got away clean.”

Remus read a little further, then closed the browser and leaned against the wall. “Well played Flynt. Well played.” he said quietly.

((((((*******))))))

Las Vegas

Simmons leaned against the command trailer, chewing his fingernails while he and Myles waited for Remus’ call.

“If Remus does know who he is, maybe we should tell him to get out of town.” Myles suggested.

“Why? The safest place for him would be right where he is.” Simmons replied. “He can see us but we can’t see him. It’s perfect.”

“Yeah, but it’s just a simple matter of figuring out what happened to the OS for surveillance in the southern district. You do that, and suddenly he has nowhere to hide.”

“And you never tried that because…”

“Because I’d actually have to be there, and field work is for jocks like you. Besides, we were chasing other leads.”

Simmons scoffed, annoyed that his job had been made so difficult by his friend’s unwillingness to travel. “Pansy-ass computer jockey little-”

Suddenly the line beeped, signaling that he had another call.

“Hold up.” he said as he switched lines. “Sir.”

“His name is Allen Flynt.” Remus said abruptly, startling Simmons. "We’ve run into each other one other time and…well, let’s just say things didn’t pan out the way I’d hoped they would.”

“I’m listening.”

“Flynt’s father was a former member of the agency. He sided with the first anomaly when he went on a rampage, believing that we were somehow responsible for his actions. We managed to take care of him early on, but his son picked up right where he left off and wiped out about half of our unit with what we thought was a suicide bombing.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“Correct. It was actually a coordinated maneuver designed to not only avenge his father, but also give himself and the first anomaly a chance to escape. The plan failed of course, and we all assumed that he died in the explosion. Apparently, not only is he alive, but he’s still pretty pissed off about what happened to his dad. I’m not sure what his endgame is, but if he’s still in league with these terrorists, then he’s as dangerous as she is.”

“Great, so next time we’ll make sure to throw them both in a cell.” Simmons replied.

“I admire your confidence, but you’re in over your head. Lawrence Granger was one of the best strategists this country has ever known, and his son is just as good if not better. Only one person has ever managed to successfully outthink Granger or Flynt, and you’re speaking with him.”

“So what’s the plan then?”

“I’m coming down to personally oversee this mission. I want you to get the occupation set up in Nellis Air Force base and await my arrival. I’ll call ahead to let them know you’re coming so they can assign you some space. Don’t do anything else until I get there, understand?”

“Understood sir.”

“Good. Remus out.”

Simmons waited until he heard the line go dead, then switched back to Myles. “So…”

“I believe the part where he said they know each other, but that’s the only part I believe. You think we should tell him who’s coming?”

Simmons thought for a moment before replying. “Later. For right now let’s try to avoid calling him too frequently, just in case someone’s monitoring my call history. But we’ll definitely need to tell him that he’s running out of time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Myles, we’re setting up at a military base right next to the city where Ghost is hiding.”

“Maybe he wants a more reliable base of operations. That trailer’s hardware is pretty obsolete.”

“Maybe…or maybe he already has a plan for ending this.”

((((((*******))))))

Equestria

“I assure you, commander, I completely understand the dangers posed by these shipments.” Celestia said, making no effort to hide her exasperation. They’d had this conversation half a dozen times already, and she was beginning to feel like a broken record. “However, I must also urge you to understand the impracticalities of storming the Everfree to root out these settlements.”

“What impracticalities!?” Commander Stronghammer half shouted, half pleaded. “With all due respect your majesty, if we charge in and arrest these barbarians, we can find out who is supplying them and arrest the suppliers, too! We’ll never have to worry about them raiding the public ever again! I urge you to reconsider!”

“I will not, for two reasons. One, I refuse to send good soldiers to their doom in a forest teeming with beasts that are likely to swallow them whole at first glance, assuming said settlements are actually in the Everfree. Second, even if we succeed, the smugglers will know to disappear in the event that their clients sell them out to us. Then we’ll be no closer to solving the problem than before.”

“Your highness, I-”

“Enough.” she growled, and the commander instantly fell silent. She sighed and put on a tired smile. “I understand your concerns commander, and I find your desire to bring this conflict to an immediate end admirable. However, brute force will not solve the problem we face until your spies come back with a significant lead on the source of these shipments.”

The commander hung his head in disappointment. “Understood your majesty.”

Celestia nodded. “Then let’s not discuss this matter again until we can actually do something about it. You are dismissed.”

She sighed as she watched Stronghammer walked away sadly, then arched her back, which emitted several distinct ‘pops’.

Celestia often found herself comparing open court to an average schoolday: sometimes it was interesting, and sometimes it wasn’t. Some days made her laugh, while others tested the limits of her nigh-endless patience. Regardless of the context, however, open court was a stressful business.

Made even more stressful by the fact that she had something else she’d much rather be doing.

It had been an entire week since Twilight’s disappearance. While Velvet and Moondancer had managed to finish categorizing her notes and were working around the clock to get the gate open, progress felt painfully slow. Maybe it was her being impatient, or just the fact that she wasn’t directly involved with the project. In either case, she longed to take part in the research and help in any way she could, if only to distract herself until her student’s (hopefully) safe return.

Unfortunately for her, her position simply wouldn’t allow it.

She sighed once more, an action that did not go unnoticed. “Your majesty, are you alright?”

She looked to her left at her secretary, whose eyebrow was raised in concern, and couldn’t help but smile. While Ink Blot’s talents in documentation and organization made her invaluable as a secretary, she also seemed to possess the uncanny ability of knowing when ponies around her were distressed and why. “We could probably get away with closing court early today, if it would make you feel better.”

If she wasn't my secretary, she might be my psychologist. Celestia thought privately. “No, that’s quite alright Ink. Who’s next?”

The dark grey unicorn scanned the list of ponies who had requested an audience with the princess, eyes narrowed in an effort to better read her own tiny writing. Suddenly, her eyes went wide. “Oh no…”

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Celestia asked, slightly uneasy.

Ink looked back at her anxiously. “It’s him.”

Celestia realized who she meant and immediately regretted not closing court early. “Why? Can’t we just take somepony else? Anypony!? I don’t care who, just please not him!” Her voice was almost pleading.

Ink Blot was about to suggest that they hurry up and leave while they still could, when the most unearthly sound filled the throne room.

“Auntie!”

Both princess and secretary cringed visibly at the voice that suddenly assaulted their eardrums. Celestia quickly sat up straight and put on a fake smile while Ink Blot hid her face behind a piece of blank parchment and pretended to write.

The princess watched her blonde-maned flesh-and-blood strut down the red carpet towards her, his muzzle in the air as if this world was beneath him. He walked this way wherever he went, and every time she saw him, she couldn’t help but wonder how in the world they were possibly related.

Very, very distantly. she mused, before addressing her nephew. “My dearest Blueblood, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Blueblood opened his mouth, and she mentally braced herself for whatever self-absorbed nonsense she was about to be subjected to.

Instead of her nephew’s whiny drawl, however, she heard a muffled argument just outside the doors to the throne room.

“I’m sorry miss, but her majesty is currently seeing somepony.”

“But this is extremely important! She’s needs to see this, and she needs to see it now!”

Celestia’s ears perked up as she recognized Moondancer’s voice. Blueblood simply scoffed at the interruption. “The nerve of some ponies. Now, auntie…why-?”

He found himself interrupted for a second time as a golden aura suddenly opened the doors behind him and the argument being held outside became more pronounced. The guards outside were barring the way with their spears while Moondancer angrily pleaded with them to let her pass. All three turned at the sound of the door opening.

“My apologies, princess.” said one of the guards, the other giving the pale yellow mare a curt look.

“No, that is quite alright.” Celestia assured them before addressing Moondancer. “Have you found anything out?”

“Even better!” she said excitedly. “We made it move!”

The princess’ eyes widened considerably, then she grinned and rose from her throne, turning to Ink Blot as she did so. “Would you please close court for me, then meet me at Twilight Sparkle’s study?”

“Of course, your majesty.” Ink replied cheerfully, gathering her various supplies.

“But…but…” Blueblood stammered.

“Oh, I’m sorry Blueblood.” she said as she descended the stairs to the throne and made for the door. “I’m afraid I’ll have to meet you again the next time I hold court.”

“But-”

Moondancer was practically bouncing in place with excitement as Celestia made her way out of the giant oak doors, her guards falling in behind her. He barely registered as her secretary walked past and exited the throne room as well, off to tell the line of ponies waiting for an audience that court was now closed.

Blueblood found himself standing alone inside the giant, brightly lit room. For a moment he continued to stand there, then he hung his head and muttered angrily to himself as he, too, made his way out.

((((((*******))))))

Celestia stared slack-jawed at the fully-powered Breach gate, her usual grace completely abandoned. Her secretary and Spike stood next to her, staring at the artifact in a similar fashion.

The gate had reached full power much faster than last time, and unlike last time it didn’t backfire and send everypony in the study sprawling onto the floor behind them. Instead, it had risen out of the floor, the once semi-circular artifact now a floating disk in the air. The runes and the spaces between the door panels now glowed a brilliant white which darkened the rest of the gate. It was truly a remarkable sight.

Which wasn’t doing much else.

“How did you do it?” Celestia asked Moondancer.

“Apparently, it’s finished recharging.” she answered. Noticing the question in her eyes, she elaborated. “The gate itself isn’t the doorway to another universe. It’s simply the frame in which the actual doorway materializes. However, it also doubles as the battery that allows the portal to stay open. In theory, with a constant supply of energy, the portal could stay open indefinitely. However, if the battery runs out while the Breach is in use, the gate locks down so that it can recharge itself. With nowhere to put the energy that you were trying to open it with, it just threw it all right back at you.”

Celestia returned her attention to the mysterious doorway floating in the middle of the room.

“That makes sense, I suppose.” Ink said, finally finding her voice. “But if the gate’s fully charged again, then why isn’t it opening?”

“I wish we knew. As it is, all we’ve managed to do is turn on the lights.” Moondancer said, shaking her head in frustration. “What are we missing? Why is this thing so difficult to understand? How in Equestria did Twilight manage to get it open to begin with!?”

“Because she took into account the one thing that we didn’t.”

Everypony turned to face Velvet on the upper landing, studying several pages of notes as she tried to make sense of the situation. She suddenly removed one of the pages and floated it down to Moondancer, who took it in her magic and scanned it.

“I don’t see what you’re…” she began, only to trail off as confusion was replaced by comprehension. “Oh. Wait…OH!”

“What is it?” asked Celestia.

“Simple! That’s what it is!” she said excitedly. “The whole system is dependent on lunar cycles!”

“The Cosmic Divide.” the princess said quietly, comprehension dawning.

Spike and Ink said nothing, content to leave the talking to those who actually knew what they were talking about.

“What we didn’t understand before was that the lockdown was only one of two reasons why you couldn’t reach the other universe the first time.” Moondancer explained. “The other reason is that the Divide is still interfering with the gate’s ability to find said universe. So now that the gate is obviously recharged, all we need now is…”

“…a full moon in both universes, during which time the Divide will be at its weakest.” Velvet finished. “According to Twilight's notes, our universe goes through it's lunar cycle twice as fast as the one she traveled to, meaning we'll be able to pass through it this Saturday. The problem we’ll face once the portal does reopen, however, is finding Twilight.”

“Hold on a second…” Moondancer said before suddenly trotting up the stairs to the writing desk and sifting through several binders. “Where is it…where is it…found it!” she said, holding up several pages in triumph.

“Found what?” asked Velvet.

“Basically, a cheat sheet for the runes on those rings.” the younger mare replied. “There are different methods of establishing a link to other universes, which can be selected by rotating those rings on the frame. You can directly connect to the other universe’s gate, travel to a location with the highest concentration of beings from your own universe, or follow somepony who’s already gone through.”

“So we don’t have to find her then!” Spike said happily, speaking for the first time since the conversation had started. “The Breach will find her for us!”

“Now we just have to wait for a full moon.” Velvet said, smile fading slightly. “A full moon which is only another week away.”

“Maybe we don’t have to wait that long.” said Moondancer optimistically. “The closer we get to a full moon, the weaker the Divide becomes. In the next few days, it should weaken to the point where we can simply punch our way through, or at least be able to make contact with her.”

“That could work.” Celestia said, nodding thoughtfully. “Very well, then. Starting tomorrow, we’ll meet here at nine in the morning and nine in the evening to power the Breach. That way, as soon as we’re able to make contact with her, we can.”

“I’ll start making room on your schedule.” Ink Blot said, levitating out a roll of parchment and beginning to write.

“Thank you Ink.” she replied before readdressing the others, simultaneously heading for the stairs. “On that note, I’m afraid I must return to my duties. Remember, everypony: nine o’ clock sharp.”

“We’ll be here.” Velvet said. Celestia nodded and strolled out, her secretary not even looking away from her work as she followed.

The remaining trio returned to the Breach, Moondancer’s horn lighting up as she levitated the “cheat sheet” in front of her and began adjusting the rings on the gate. Velvet sat down next to her as she did so, while Spike went back upstairs to tidy up the mess of notes on Twilight’s writing desk.

“I should go give Night Light and Shining the good news.” the older mare said, getting back to her hooves as he finished. “They’ll want to help with the Breach, too.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” Moondancer said as she continued to rotate the three rings.

“Good night.” she replied as she ascended the stairwell to the upper landing. She paused about halfway up and turned back around. “And Moondancer?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.” she said with a smile. “I don’t think I could’ve figured this out nearly as fast by myself.”

Moondancer smiled back. “Of course. It was my pleasure.”

She turned to continue up the stairs and exit the study, Spike also thanking her before hurriedly following. She watched both of them exit the study, then turned her attention back to the gate.

Author's Note

Sorry this chapter took so long. I've been trying to juggle work, life, and sleep for the past two weeks. The problem is that I suck at juggling, both figuratively and in real life.
Be sure to leave me a comment with your thoughts and, if you're enjoying this story, click that like button down there.
Peace. :twilightsmile:

P.S.-Fuck Blueblood.

Ch.24-Monster

“One…two…THREE!”

Twilight wasn’t sure whether or not to feel amused at the three men straining to remove the broken pressurizer from under the floor. The replacement part for Skeeter’s hydraulic lift had arrived late in the afternoon, and the three of them had immediately gotten busy disassembling the rather large contraption so they could install it.

A task made slightly difficult by the fact that said replacement part weighed more than any two of them put together.

“Are you three sure you don’t want help?” she asked.

“Nah, we’re goo-GAH! FUCK!”

“Mah bad.” said Arnold sheepishly as he lifted the heavy machine off of Allen’s foot.

“Not that we don’t appreciate the offer, ‘cause we do, but it’s always jus’ kinda been the three of us. Ah know it probably sounds like traditionalist bullshit…and in all honesty it probably is…but we jus’ wouldn’t feel comfortable acceptin’ outside aid, even if that aid can use teminumkesis.” Skeeter explained before turning his attention back to the task at hand. “Alright…ya’ll two get up on the lip n’ get ready to haul this sucker out.”

Twilight nodded, supposing the mechanic’s answer made sense. After spending so many years as an unofficial family, some activities must feel almost sacred to the three of them, even something as mundane as replacing broken equipment. It was friendship on a level similar to what she had with Cadence and-

Wait…what was that last part?

Twilight looked back down at a breathless Skeeter, the question dancing on the tip of her tongue.

“Twilight.”

She looked over to see Allen staring at her, an amused look on his face as he leaned on the now-fully-extracted pressurizer. “Yes?”

“Don’t. You’ll save yourself a gigantic headache.” He looked down at Skeeter with a grin. “You did that on purpose.”

“Ya’ll can’t prove that.” the mechanic responded as he walked over and turned up the radio on the worktable.

Twilight shook her head at the antics of her three companions as they dragged the old part away and began the taxing process of carefully lowering the new one in.

“You should really invest in some sort of small crane for projects like this.” she commented.

“Actually, Ah’ve already got one. See that big square metal arch thing near the ceilin’ at the front?” She looked around until she noticed a large heavily-worn piece of equipment near the front of the garage, the top of it almost touching the ceiling. The bottom of the machine was set on tracks that stretched the length of the building, and a hook was attached to a track which ran under the top. “That beauty used to be able to slide back and forth across the shop, carryin’ machines and parts of all sizes. Sadly, she went shortly before the pressurizer did, and Ah ain’t had the money to git ‘er fixed.”

“Too bad.” she replied. “That would probably be pretty useful right now.”

“Probably.” Allen agreed. “But hey, no sense crying about something you can’t ch-AAAH! DUDE, SERIOUSLY!? AGAIN!?”

“Ah’m sorry! Mah hands keep gittin’ all sweaty!” Arnold said defensively.

Allen turned back to the new pressurizer, shaking his head in annoyance. Twilight silently wished he’d lighten up and stop taking it so personally. It was only an accident after all.

She watched as Arnold shot a grin at Skeeter, who responded with one of his own.

Wait a minute… she thought as she looked between the two men. That wasn’t an accident!

Twilight shook her head in confusion. Why would they intentionally drop the heavy piece of machinery on Allen’s foot? Had he done something to them and this was their way of getting back at him? No, that couldn’t be it. Not with the way they were grinning to each other.

Were they picking on him simply for the fun of it? To get a reaction from him? That seemed more likely.

He looked up at her for a moment, face contorted slightly with the effort of keeping the heavy machine in the air. She looked at Skeeter, then Arnold, then back to him as she tried to convey the information to him. She was slightly surprised when he simply nodded and mouthed his reply. I know.

She raised her hand, a pink aura surrounding it, and looked a question at him. He appeared to disagree at first, then shot a look at Arnold, the ghost of a smile still on the marine’s lips. He glared at him for a moment longer, then turned narrowed eyes back to Twilight and nodded.

She returned her attention to the twins, who tensed as they prepared to drop the heavy machine again, together this time. Skeeter mouthed a countdown to Arnold, who grinned as they prepared to assault Allen’s foot for a third time.

3…

Skeeter looked over at Allen, making sure he hadn’t noticed them.

2…

Twilight prepared herself to act as she wrapped her magic around the twins’ feet.

1…

Allen smiled as he felt the pressurizer begin to drop and pulled his foot back.

Now.

“AHH! SON OF A BITCH!” the twins screamed in unison, yanking their feet out from under the heavy machine as Allen stood hunched over in laughter.

“What in the name o’ Lincoln’s knickers just happened?” Arnold asked, pressing down on his toes to make sure they were still intact.

“Ah dunno!” Skeeter said with equal shock. “Mah foot wasn’t even under…the…”

He trailed off as he noticed Twilight innocently continuing to observe his old crane. Too innocently.

He looked to his left. Allen smiled back at him.

He looked back and forth between the two for a few seconds, slowly comprehending the situation. “Sonuva…”

“Karma’s a beautiful gal, ain’t she?” Allen said cheerfully.

Skeeter glared accusingly at the girl on the edge of the alcove, who had also turned to smile at him. “Karma’s a God damn cheat, ‘s what she is.”

Twilight sniggered. “Oopsie!”

Skeeter rolled his eyes and looked back at the pressurizer. “Alright, let’s quit fuckin’ around and line this sucker up so Ah can bolt ‘er in.”

“Hey, you guys started this.” Allen replied, still smiling as he grabbed a corner.

After they finished aligning the new part, Skeeter ordered his two assistants to take five while he mounted it to the floor. They did so without complaint, perfectly content to leave the mechanic to his business while they went to get a cold drink. They completely ignored the beers in the fridge in favor of waters, since there would be plenty of time for drinking later that night.

For a while, they all just stood around the worktable, listening to the racket made by Skeeter’s tools as he worked. Twilight sat on a stool, her eyes wandering over the many pieces of equipment in the shop. Allen took the occasional swig from his water bottle as he leaned against the table. Arnold stood up straight, occasionally glancing over at where his brother remained crouched by the base of the pressurizer, ready to act if he needed help.

He needn’t have bothered, though, as said brother emerged from the small alcove in the floor and wiped the grease and sweat from his face. He too approached the fridge and made to grab one of the ever-present brown bottles inside.

“Ahem.”

He turned around to find Allen raising an eyebrow at him in an expression he knew all too well. He looked away and saw his brother wearing a similar expression, while Twilight simply looked at him in silent pleading. He locked eyes with all three of them, then sighed and retrieved a water bottle instead. He took an exaggerated few gulps, then spread his arms out wide with his mouth still full, receiving a few eye-rolls in response.

He then took his rightful place in his fold-out and joined his friends in the companionable silence that had fallen over the garage, broken only by the music coming from the radio.

“Hey Allen, don’t you have to meet the Administrator soon?” Twilight asked suddenly.

“Yeah, I’ll have to go get ready soon.” he replied, then with a sigh he added, “And since Beauty’s still out of commission, I’ll be taking the turdmobile there.”

“Git ready?” Skeeter repeated, confused. “Whaddya mean?”

“You know; shower, eat something, make sure I’m ready for a gunfight…the basics.”

“‘Kay, them last two I get, but a shower? Why ya gotta look pretty fer that jackass?”

“Because whether I like it or not, that jackass is still my boss until he hands me my paperwork, as well as the only reason I’m going to be able to disappear. I’d prefer not to potentially jeopardize that plan by wearing your garage to our meeting.”

“Disappear? Where are you going?” asked Twilight.

“Canada.” Skeeter replied.

“Actually, I’m staying here.” Allen corrected.

Skeeter looked at him in surprise. “Since when?”

“Since yesterday. Admin called and told me he could do some magic tricks with my public records so that I could keep my basic profile and still stay off the radar. Basically, I’m going to be the same person and a complete stranger at the same time, if that makes any sense.”

“It does.” Twilight reassured him.

“Kind of.” Arnold said, scratching his head. “Why were ya’ll plannin’ on headin’ fer oak leaf country anyway?”

“Because I didn’t know Admin can do what he’s doing with my records. I thought I was going to have to leave the country so the feds couldn’t get to me, but I keep forgetting that Admin’s a freaking magician.”

“Well, shit man! And Ah was gonna start cryin’ at the bonfire party tonight!” Skeeter said, trying to refrain from laughing and look angry at the same.

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Allen sassed.

“I still fail to understand why we’re blowing up a perfectly good automobile.” Twilight said, shaking her head.

“There ain’t nothin’ good about that monstrosity.” Arnold spat as he glanced over at the Prius in disgust.

“What’s wrong with it? It seems to be in good working order, and I read in one of your automobile enthusiast magazines that it can run on gas or electricity. That seems pretty efficient to me.”

“We wouldn’t expect ya to understand, seein’ as ya jus’ got here n’ all.” Skeeter explained. “That…thing…has rejected mah every attempt to give it performance upgrades and therefore make it more than a mindless machine. There’s nothing Ah can do with it, and that’s frusratin’ to say the least.”

“That’s why we hate it.” Arnold continued. “Allen’s reason fer hatin’ it goes along the same lines, but his is more…practical.”

“I understand exactly what you mean. He relies on his car to get him out of situations like the chase we were in two days ago. The Mach 1 handles quite effectively, can reach a higher speed than most vehicles, and has enough weight to hold its own when it has nowhere else to go, whereas the Prius, and I quote, ‘handles like a pregnant whale’.”

“Couldn’a said it better mahself.” Skeeter said with a chuckle.

“Shh.”

Everybody turned to look at Allen, who was fiddling with the volume dial for the radio. Twilight noticed that the music had ended, replaced by a man’s voice. Her heart sank as she heard what was being said.

“-the events of late Saturday evening. While it remains unclear who caused this city-wide power failure, its effects were devastating nonetheless. The death toll is set to reach above one hundred, and a good many more are in critical condition, despite the precautions taken by the city after the previous incident. The victims range from elderly patients on life support at home to critically inj-”

Skeeter abruptly stood up and switched off the radio. Allen made no move to stop him, instead hanging his head.

Twilight hugged herself as she felt the guilt settling in. They could have avoided all of this. The chase, the virus, their capture…it all could’ve been avoided if she hadn’t been such a fool. She was responsible for every life that had been lost that day. Essentially, she had killed all of them herself, and it weighed on her conscious like an anvil.

“This is all my fault.” she said miserably.

Allen immediately looked up at her. “What? No! Absolutely not!”

Twilight stared back at him, confused. “If I hadn’t gone off-”

“It’s not your fault.” he insisted, cutting her off. “You had every right to react the way you did. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine for not telling you about my job and for not thinking to look for a tracker.”

“Al, shut up. Ya’ll got as much right to blame yerself as she does.” Skeeter said sternly. They both stared at him in confusion, and he sighed before elaborating. “None.”

“So then who’s fault is it, Skeeter?” asked Allen flatly.

“Not to be rude, but this isn’t really the type of accident that just happens.” Twilight continued. “Someone has to be held responsible for this.”

“Personally, Ah blame the feds.” Arnold piped up. “Everything was fine n’ dandy before them starchy bastards showed up. Ah feel like they put ya’ll in a position where ya didn’t have any choice but to do whatcha did.”

“Exactly!” Skeeter said, gesturing toward Arnold. “Ya’ll wanna hold someone responsible? Hold them responsible! Everthin’ that’s gone on this past week’s happened ‘cause them fuckers can’t leave well ‘nough alone!”

Twilight looked over at Allen uncertainly, who calmly shook his head at the twins. “It’s not that simple.”

“Like hell it ain’t! Ya’ll both need to quit overcomplicatin’ shit. Feds show up, feds cause trouble, feds don’t give a shit. End of story.”

Allen stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. Skeeter wasn’t going to let up until he did, so they might as well skip the drama. Plus, whatever prevented Twilight from thinking that any of this was her fault was a good plan.

“Great. Wonderful. Now chug yer water, grab yer coat, get in that shitstain on wheels, and go get ready for yer meetin’.”

“Make sure ya’ll clean behind your ears when ya git home.” Arnold added.

“And brush yer teeth…”

“…and comb yer hair…”

“…don’t forget flossin’…”

“Thank you Mom! Thank you Dad! I love you! Goodbye!” Allen said loudly, smiling as he snatched his jacket off the hook and made for the front door.

“Allen…” Twilight said quietly.

He stopped and turned around, slightly concerned at her tone. “What’s up?

She glanced worriedly at the twins, then looked back at him. “Please don’t leave me alone with them.”

Allen rolled his eyes. “You’ll be fine. They’re not that bad. Besides, if I’ve managed to survive over a decade with them, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

She sighed anxiously in response, earning another eye-roll from him as he turned around, got in the “car”, and set off for home. He floored the gas as he turned the corner, attempting to compensate for the time that said “car” was going to cost him.

((((((*******))))))

The faintest hint of red was all that remained of the sun’s light, the moon shining brightly upon Las Vegas as she began to stir. Already the distant sounds of music, laughter, and police sirens could be heard. Night life in Vegas was approaching full swing, and soon Allen and his friends would be enjoying their own festivities.

But there was one thing he had to do first.

It was nearing eight o’ clock when he parked in an alleyway just off the main road, got out, and started walking. When he’d first started his training as a fixer, this had been the time and place where he’d meet the instructor before traveling to another location to begin the day’s exercises. It only made sense that they should meet at the same time and place for this meeting.

He hadn’t been walking for more than five minutes when the hospital came into view. A brightly lit six-story building which took up an entire block just by itself, he’d been here one other time under much darker circumstances. He shuddered at the memory of his family’s bloodied forms entering the sliding glass doors on wheeled stretchers, then shook his head to clear it.

Stay focused, man. he thought as he covered his face and took a seat on a bench on the sidewalk.

He slid his phone out of his pocket and dialed the Administrator, the dial tone sounding once before the line picked up. “Admin.”

“I’m here.”

“One second.” replied the artificially deepened voice of his employer. There was a few seconds’ pause, then they spoke again. “Where are you?”

“On a bench out front.”

“Alright. Give me five minutes.”

The line went dead, and Allen put his phone back in his pocket. He stretched, then crossed his arms and legs to wait. There was hardly anyone else around, most of the city being either at home sleeping or on the Las Vegas strip partying. One or two people were walking on the other side of the road, but otherwise he was alone.

Suddenly he saw a red flicker on the concrete in front of him, and looked down to see a glowing red dot crawling around on his chest. He raised an eyebrow at it. Laser sights? Amateurs…

He drew his phone again, about to redial the Administrator. If someone noticed the dot on his chest, they’d call the cops, and the meeting would have to be rescheduled. He had been waiting three years for this moment. He was not waiting any longer.

“Leslie! Turn off your damn laser before you give us away!” ordered a nearby voice.

The dot on his chest immediately vanished, and he calmly slid his phone back into his pocket. A few seconds later, a young man in a suit and glasses took a seat next to him, setting a black leather brief case on the ground between them. He had sandy brown hair and appeared even skinnier than Allen, and positively reeked of authority.

Allen did his best not to stare directly at the newcomer as he took in his appearance. He could swear he’d seen a much older version of this man on a podium a few years ago, before Goodman had taken office.

Instead of addressing him, the man took out his phone and began rapidly sifting through menu options, ignoring him completely. Allen immediately recognized the act and played along. To any casual passersby, they were simply strangers who happened to be sharing a bench as they waited for someone to pick them up. There was nothing outstanding about them, so no one would pay them any mind.

Both men were silent for a long time before Allen finally decided it was time to get the ball rolling.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m afraid not.” the other man answered in a slightly nasally voice.

“You can’t be more than a few months older than me.”

“And yet I’m a skilled hacker and the kingpin of what is quickly becoming the most powerful underground organization in the country.”

Allen nodded and turned a little to the left to face the man.

“Are all your guards as skilled as Leslie, Admin?”

“Cut him some slack. It’s his first real assignment. You can take your mask off by the way. We’re invisible.”

“You call this a real assignment?” Allen replied as he pulled the scarf down from his nose. “My first assignment, I was thrown into the deep end and told to swim. If he can’t handle that, then what’s the point of having him around?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve set an outrageously high precedent. No one has the drive you did when you were training.”

“Except you, right?”

The other man looked at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about Cyrus.”

He was silent for a long moment, then sighed dismissively. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Minus the wrinkles and gray streaks, you look exactly like him.”

“Well, saves having to explain it to you then.” Cyrus replied before tapping the briefcase with his foot. “Your old records are in one folder, your new ones in the other.”

“Good.” said Allen, grabbing it and standing up. “Thank you for doing this, and it’s been…an experience working with you.”

With that said, he began walking away, much to the confusion of his former employer.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Retiring. Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Cyrus sighed in exasperation. “So I go through the trouble of arranging a face-to-face meeting with my most valuable operative before his retirement, and he just says thank you and walks away? That’s fucked up.”

“What did you expect, a poem? The only reason I agreed to have this meeting was because I wanted to meet the guy behind the creepy voice. Otherwise, you could have just left this at a dead drop.”

“I expected that you’d have questions.” replied Cyrus in a slightly irritated voice.

“Questions?” Allen repeated with a laugh. “I learned to stop asking questions after my sixth job, because you refuse to answer them!”

“Well, now I’m an open book, so is there anything you want to know? Maybe how in the name of God the son of a mayor of Las Vegas became your former employer?”

Allen shook his head in amusement. “Even if it wasn’t already obvious, I doubt I’d care. No…”

Cyrus raised an eyebrow as he sat back down on the bench, then recoiled slightly at his sudden angry expression. “…what I’d love to know is why I’ve been stuck with you for three whole fucking years.”

Despite his change in demeanor, the Administrator answered quite calmly. “I believe I explained that when I hired you.”

“I WAS A FUCKING KID!!” he shouted angrily, making the other man jump slightly. “I’D LITERALLY GOTTEN MY DRIVER’S LICENSE THREE MONTHS BEFORE YOU HIRED ME!! WHAT THE HELL MADE IT ALRIGHT FOR YOU TO HIRE SOME RANDOM STREET PUNK TO DO YOUR DIRTY WORK!?”

“Calm down you idiot! I can’t help you if you get your brains blown out!”

For a few seconds, Allen continued to bare his teeth at his former employer like some ferocious animal, then turned away to let his anger dissipate.

Three years of regret, misery, and bitter hatred that he’d buried deep in the back of his mind were all resurfacing at once. The repressed memories of his many victims and the details of their deaths had returned full-force to haunt him, playing through his mind like some demented home video, and the man responsible for those memories now sat beside him.

He turned back to glare at said employer. “Why?” he growled.

“Because I was on a time limit.” he responded. “Frost was monopolizing the fixer industry, buying off fixers left and right. In perhaps two years, he would’ve had a finger on every trigger in the city and no one would’ve been able to stop him. I needed someone that wouldn’t take long to train, and also someone that I could trust to get the job done every time.”

“And I repeat…I was a kid.”

“A kid that could shoot almost as well as some members of the secret service. You finished your training within six months, leaving ample time to track down-”

“I. Was. A. Kid.”

Cyrus sighed. “What do want from me, an apology?”

“I don’t know, how about some sign that you at least regret what you did!? You approached an innocent kid in his moment of weakness and gave him the opportunity to go after the bad man who did him wrong! Then, when he fucked up as he inevitably would, you used that as an excuse to keep him around for another three years!”

Cyrus stared unflinchingly as Allen continued to rant. “You played on a child’s anger, turned him into a murderer…and you don’t even seem to care!”

“Did you get the job done?” he asked.

Allen stared disbelieving at the other man for a moment. “Well yes, but-”

“Then I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

Allen stared blankly at the stranger sitting next to him. He’d heard the words, seen his lips move…but he still wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “What?”

“I hired you hoping that you would eliminate the people who stood in the way of a safer Vegas.” Cyrus replied, staring him dead in the eye. “You not only delivered…you excelled. Whether you like it or not, your skills paved the way for that vision and now I can make it a reality. As such, I do not regret tricking you into getting involved, nor do I regret the four years’ worth of blood on your hands.”

Allen continued to stare at him for a long time, the words slowly soaking into his mind.

As he fully comprehended what was being said, he was surprised to find that he wasn’t angry. He, in all honesty, didn’t know what to feel at this point. He’d been lied to and manipulated by this man for four whole years, and he was more surprised than anything else at the man’s indifference. Anyone else would have felt something, but his former boss could care less. It was mind-boggling.

“What kind of subhuman abomination are you?” Allen finally asked.

Cyrus turned to stare at the road in front of them. “I’m the monster I needed to be to get the job done.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” he replied. “Do you know what my dad said to me the night before his assassination?”

“What?”

“He told me what monsters are, and they aren’t what I thought they were. They’re people who aren’t bound by their moral code; not afraid to ‘fight dirty’ if you will. It’s generally accepted that these people go too far in pursuing their goals, and thus are generally rejected by the public. In most cases, that stereotype is quite accurate.” He paused momentarily for breath. “But sometimes, what the people need is someone who isn’t afraid to cross the line.”

“Like you?”

Cyrus nodded before continuing. “I didn’t realize what he meant until after he died. When Goodman took over and I heard the allegations against him, that he had been the reason for my dad’s death, I began to understand. Goodman’s hold over Vegas was all-encompassing. Finances, healthcare, education…it was all his to control. But it wasn’t because he was stronger than anyone else. It was because he wasn’t playing by the same rules as anyone else. He’d allied himself with a crime lord in order to achieve his ends, and taken other less-noticeable means to ensure that he stayed in power. And when I realized that, I knew what I had to do. I needed go even lower and fight even dirtier than Frost or Goodman. I needed to become a bigger monster than the both of them put together.

“I’m not proud of the things I had to do to get here, but I don’t regret them either. No matter how horrible my actions were, or how far over the line I stepped, everything I did benefitted this city. The things I’ve done have put a man on the podium who will ensure that the things that need to be done to make this city safe again are done. Vegas is on her way to recovery because I wasn’t afraid to do what needed to be done.”

Allen was at a loss for words. He wasn’t sure whether to applaud the man next him or draw his silenced pistol and shoot him in the face. Three years of serving the guy, wondering what his motives were, and that was not the answer he’d expected.

For several long moments, they both sat in silence; Allen staring at Cyrus as he tried to think of a response, and Cyrus staring at the road as he waited for said response.

What do you say to something like that? he asked himself. He sat thinking for the longest time before the answer finally came to him.

There was nothing left to say. The Administrator had answered his question. This was the end of the conversation.

He got up and grabbed the briefcase off the ground again. Cyrus looked over at him, confused once more. “That’s it? You’re not going to say anything?”

“Nope.” Allen replied, not even turning around as he walked away. “I got everything I came here for. Thank you, Admin. Good bye.”

With that, he crossed the street and disappeared into an alleyway, heading for his car.

Cyrus stared at the alleyway his former associate had disappeared down for a few moments, then shrugged and made his way back the way he’d come.

Author's Note

1-A weird little something happened. I actually published this chapter last night. When I looked at it this morning, the chapter title was there but the chapter was not and it wasn't published. I'm not sure what the hell happened, but I guess it's not too big a deal now that it is up.
2-I've said it once and I'll say it again: I suck at idle chapters.
Please leave a comment with your thoughts and give me a thumbs-up if you're enjoying. Next chapter, we're going to blow up a piece-of-shit Prius in the middle of Death Valley using a highly unconventional molotov cocktail blend! :pinkiecrazy:
See you then! :twilightsmile:

Ch.25-When in Doubt...

“Maybe I should’ve gone with him.” Twilight said uncertainly.

Arnold turned around to grin at her. “What, we ain’t enough for ya? Ya miss yer boyfriend already?”

Twilight glared at him and raised a gently sparking hand for him to see. He snickered good-naturedly and turned back around, knowing enough by now to know that she wasn’t going to hurt him. She rolled her eyes and turned to continue watching the Prius that was struggling to follow them.

They were on their way to the Bailey family’s Cold War bunker, an underground stack of shipping containers converted into a living space which housed all of their ammunition and nonperishable foodstuffs. According to the twins, the Cold War had been a rather lengthy period of time which had held the possibility of nuclear war. Preppers across the nation had built similar bunkers only to find out that not a single missile was to be fired. The Baileys’ bunker had been finished shortly before the “war” ended, and had been repurposed as a warehouse for storing spare parts, tools, extra ammunition, and other miscellaneous items that had no place in the garage.

The bunker was buried in the middle of Death Valley, the massive desert region that lay a few miles away from Las Vegas. She and the twins, who were driving there in Skeeter’s pickup, were making decent progress considering the box trailer they had to drag with them. Allen, who had (strangely enough) insisted on driving the Prius there, was not faring as well, even with Twilight magically parting the tops of the dunes for him.

“How’s he doing back there?” she asked.

“Lemme ask…” Skeeter replied as he picked up the radio sitting on the dashboard. “Hey Al, ya’ll okay back there?”

“Please for the love of our fair lord in heaven tell me we’re almost there.” Allen replied, static making it difficult to understand him.

“We got ‘bout a quarter of a mile left.”

“Thank fucking God! If I never have to drive one of these damn things again, it’ll be too soon!”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Heck yeah it is! This thing hugs the ground so hard, I can barely get it over the top of the dunes even with Twilight helping me! I’ve almost gotten it stuck like twenty times since we left, and once I actually completely lost control of the damn thing and went sliding down the dune!”

“Was that when ya’ll had the button pressed and ya’ll was screamin’ yer fuckin’ head off?”

“How long ago was that?”

“‘Bout half an hour.”

“No. That was something else.”

Twilight reached for the radio, which Skeeter handed her. “Do you want me to make the cuts deeper?”

“Nah. We’re almost there, so things are starting to smooth over.” he replied. “How’re things up there?”

“Oh, you know…Arnold is trying to get me to shock him while Skeeter silently encourages him.” She smiled as both occupants of the front seat stiffened at her words.

“Try to keep from doing so until we get there. Skeeter doesn’t drive well when he’s being electrocuted.”

“Of course.” she said, then handed the radio back to Skeeter.

They continued in silence for the next fifteen minutes, Twilight watching the dunes approach and cutting through them with her magic. The twins didn’t even turn to tease her anymore, obviously afraid that their actions would make her…and by extension Allen…unhappy. It was all in good humor of course, but Allen was famous for his “angry big brother” mode. They had quickly learned not to be in the way of an angry Allen shortly after meeting Logan and hearing about the cruel treatment he’d had to endure at school.

Twilight couldn’t help chuckling slightly at one point when she heard Allen spout a rather impressive string of what she assumed to be swear words, once again not realizing that he had the button on his radio pressed.

“Geez.” Skeeter said in surprise. “Ah thought Ah was bad.”

“I’m quite certain he learned every single one of those from you.” Twilight commented.

“Ah wish, but Ah’m pretty sure ‘bout halfa’ them was in Spanish, and Ah don’t speak Spanish.”

“Oh.” Twilight said, turning her attention back to the front. She raised an eyebrow as she noticed something sticking out of the sand just ahead. “What’s that?”

“That there’s the entrance to the bunker.” Arnold replied.

They drew closer and Twilight was able to make out the weathered metal door of a shipping container, partially covered by sand. They parked next to it and got out, Skeeter moving to unlock the heavy door while Arnold retrieved a metal case from the back seat.

Twilight eyed said case curiously. “What’s in the case?”

Arnold simply grinned at her. “You’ll see.”

She stared at the marine for a moment, then shook her head and walked over to join Skeeter as he finished opening the bunker door. Her eyes widened in surprise at the cavernous tunnel that stretched beneath the sand. “Oh my…”

“Ah heard it took mah great-grandpappy almost forty years to get this thing built.” Skeeter agreed as they began their descent into the dark tunnel. “That’s plannin’, diggin’, placin’, cuttin’, weldin’, wirin’, and buryin’…all done by him and his folks. Almost sucks they never got to put the damn thing to use.”

Twilight looked over at him in surprise. “Didn’t they build this to wait out the aftereffects of a nuclear war?”

“Ah did say almost.” he replied, opening a panel at the other end of the tunnel and flipping a few switches. He smiled as lights all along said tunnel flickered to life, bathing the interior in a soft yellow light. “Beautiful. Just beautiful. Ah’ll tell you what Twi, this here’s gotta be the Bailey family masterpiece. A real testament to our ingenuity. When Baileys build somethin’, we build that sucker to last. With proper maintenance, o’ course.”

“I thought the Mach 1 was your masterpiece?” Twilight teased.

“Yeah. Mah masterpiece. No one else’s.” he said firmly as he opened the door to the inner living area. “Ah take pride in the fact that no one else in mah family could manage the sort of precision n’ love that Ah put into cars. Even mah pops was impressed with me, and he taught me everythin’ Ah know.”

“What happened to him?” Twilight asked before she could stop herself. Skeeter’s smile faded and his shoulders sagged, and she quickly made to cover up her mistake. “I-I’m sorry. Don’t answer that.”

“Nah, nah, it’s fine. It’s a kinda dumb story actually.” he said. “Mah dad died ‘bout two years ago from lung cancer.”

Twilight hung her head in shame, feeling worse by the second. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Eh…what can ya do?” he replied with a sad smile, before walking around the room and rummaging through various boxes and cases. He suddenly straightened up and stared straight ahead, brow furrowed in thought. “Or did Ah leave it downstairs?”

“Sorry?”

“Nothin’. Ah’m jus’ tryin’ to find somethin’.” he said before continuing. “So you know how Ah drink a whole lot? Well, he was the same way, ‘cept he smoked. It caused him a whole ton o’ problems breathin’. Me n’ Arnie tried to get him to stop, but he was convinced he was fine. Thought he breathed in worse every time he worked on cars. The ol’ geezer was jus’ too damn dependent on them damn cigs.

“One day, he started wheezin’ like crazy n’ finally collapsed. We called an ambulance and sped off to a hospital, where we waited for a few hours while they tested n’ stabilized him. Few needles ‘n a few scans later, we all got the diagnosis, and just over two weeks later he passed.” He chuckled slightly before continuing. “Ah uh…Ah asked him if he had any regrets about a week before he died. Ya know what he said?”

“What did he say?”

“‘Only that Ah never made it with that Midler lady.’ That old man was in way over his head.” he said with a grin. At a confused look from Twilight, he explained, “Betty Midler. She’s a singer.”

“That’s adorable.” she said with a giggle.

“Yeeeeaah…” he replied nostalgically, then shook his head and continued searching through boxes. “Where is the damn thing?”

“What are you looking for?”

“It kinda looks like a…oh wait! Here it is!” he proclaimed, holding out a small device for her to see. It looked like a small remote with a lever on the side and an antenna sticking out of the top.

“What’s that for?” she asked.

“You’ll see.” Skeeter said with a grin, turning and walking back out of the bunker.

Twilight stared after him for a moment, then sighed dramatically and followed. Why is it that I can never get a straight answer out of you boys?

((((((*******))))))

“You’re an idiot.”

Arnold just smiled at Allen as he held the open case for him to see.

“Arnold?”

“Yeeees?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Matter o’ perspective, I think.”

“No, it’s a matter of you being an idiot.”

Twilight emerged from the bunker’s cavernous entrance, Skeeter not far behind, and noticed Allen glaring at Arnold. “What’s going on?”

“Arnold’s an idiot.” Allen answered plainly.

“Uh-huh…” she replied, not sure how to respond. She walked over to stand next to him, wondering what was inside the case, and frowned in confusion at the multitude of grayish-green blocks inside. “Umm…what am I looking at?”

“A case full o’ good ol’ fashioned C4!” Arnold said happily.

“Military grade plastic explosives.” Allen said, already sensing her question.

“Wait…Explosives!?” she replied in shock.

“How you managed to get a whole case full of that stuff past airport security is beyond me.”

“It wasn’t easy, Ah’ll tell ya that much.”

Allen facepalmed and turned away groaning. “Oh my God, Arnie. I love you like a brother but you’re such a fucking idiot.”

“So Ah’ve heard.” he replied with an eye-roll.

“You do realize what would’ve happened if you’d gotten caught, right?”

“Yeah, which is why Ah didn’t git caught.”

Allen rubbed his eyes and sighed, then turned to glare accusingly at Skeeter. “You told him to bring explosives?”

“O’ course Ah didn’t!” he replied as he raised his hands in defense, then he grinned mischievously. “Then again, Ah didn’t tell him not to, either.”

Allen looked back at Arnold, who was wearing a similar grin, and sighed again. “Well…might as well use it then. Let’s get the Prius to a safe distance.”

“WOOO! THIS BABY’S GONNA BURN!” Arnold screamed excitedly as he grabbed the detonator from Skeeter and jumped feet-first into the open passenger window.

Allen rolled his eyes and smiled as he climbed in, started the car, and drove it about a hundred yards away from the rest of the group. While Arnold got out to set up the explosives, he opened the leather briefcase still tucked behind his seat and pulled out one of the two folders inside, inspecting its contents to make sure they were his newly-forged records. Satisfied, he shut the case and got out of the car, tucking the folder under his arm as he began the trek back to the bunker.

“So exactly how many laws did he break by bringing that case overseas?” he heard Twilight ask as he made his way towards the pickup.

Skeeter actually began counting on his fingers as he tried to answer her question. Allen shook his head as he approached. “Let’s just say he ripped the law book in half, took a flamethrower to it, and then pissed on the ashes.”

“That was…needlessly graphic.”

“Hey, you asked.” Allen replied as he sat the folder in the backseat.

Twilight shook her head and turned to watch Arnold as he placed the charges, only to find him hurrying back over to the group. “That was fast.” she said, surprised.

“It ain’t hard if ya know how.” the marine replied quickly, before holding the detonator out to Allen. “Now, ‘nough screwin’ around. Let’s light this candle.”

Allen looked at it in confusion. “Don’t you want to blow it?”

“Whose retirement are we celebratin’ here?” he replied, Skeeter getting his phone ready.

“Fair enough.” he said, taking the detonator with a grin. “Countdown?”

The twins took up positions on either side of him, Skeeter grabbing Twilight and dragging her closer. “It’s gonna be jus’ like the ball drop!” he said giddily.

“The what?” Twilight asked.

“Later.” he replied before starting the countdown. “Ten!”

“Nine!” Arnold joined in, almost bouncing on his toes with excitement

“Eight!” Twilight said, grinning nervously as she covered her ears.

“Seven!”

“Six!”

Allen stared intently at the Prius, his fingers curling around the trigger with anticipation. He suddenly felt a hand on each shoulder and looked back to see his friends, no…his family…counting down with as much excitement as he felt. He turned back to the Prius, grinning happily and wishing the moment didn’t have to pass.

“Two!”

“One!”

“FIRE IN THE HOLE!!” Allen screamed as he finally pulled the trigger.

The Prius suddenly jumped several feet in the air, instantly turning pitch-black as it was enveloped by the fiery explosion. The doors, hood, wheels, and windows all exploded outwards and covered the area with a mixture of glass and car parts. All four spectators squinted their eyes at the sheer brightness of the blast, and were left with an uncomfortable ringing in their ears when it finally subsided.

They stood there for a mere fraction of a second to appreciate the smoldering wreck before them, then Arnold ran towards it screaming and jumping as if he’d just won the lottery. Skeeter quickly saved the picture, then ran to join his brother in dancing around the falling scraps of burning rubber and upholstery. Even Twilight started bouncing up and down, half laughing and half cheering.

Allen turned back to the metal husk which now housed the blackened remains of his former life and stared for a moment. He then leaned back, raised his fists to the heavens, and screamed to let the whole world know he was now a free man.

((((((*******))))))

It didn’t take long for the shouting to die down and the twins to finally settle, and soon they all began milling about to set up the bonfire. Arnold went to the back of the pickup to grab the cooler while Allen and Skeeter searched for decent seats. They ended up rolling two truck tires out of the bunker, Skeeter having brought his lawn chair and Arnold content to sit on the cooler. The seats were placed around the still-flaming hybrid, drinks were passed out (soda for Twilight, who insisted that she didn’t drink), and all present seated themselves to talk the night away.

“So then he lights the fuse, drops the damn thing right in front o’ the poor bastard’s snout, and later wonders why it chased him all the way back home.” Skeeter finished.

“That’s an animal rights case if I’ve ever heard one.” Twilight said, shaking her head.

“No kidding.” Allen agreed. “Exactly how drunk do you have to be to pull something like that?”

Skeeter scratched his head as he tried to remember. “Let’s see…Ah think it was three beers and a long island. Mighta’ been more, Ah ain’t too sure. Was a while ago.”

“Friggin’ dumbass…” Arnold muttered as he took a sip of his own beer.

“Speaking of dumbasses,…” Allen began, turning to Arnold.

“Ah thought Ah was an idiot?” The marine replied with mock confusion.

“…how much C4 did you rig that thing with?”

“Three bricks.” he replied. “Any more, and we might’ve had to worry about shrapnel.”

Twilight looked over at Arnold for a moment, slightly surprised at his matter-of-fact tone of voice. She hadn’t taken him as the type of person to be skilled at anything besides joking around. She suddenly realized how very little she actually knew about Skeeter’s twin.

“Hey Arnold? Would you mind telling me a little bit about yourself?”

He quickly swallowed his beer and raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Me? Why? Ah ain’t no one special.”

“Well I know Allen’s story, and I know Skeeter’s been working towards being a mechanic for most of his life, but I don’t know anything about you. You just sort of…” She trailed off, trying to find the right words.

“Dropped in?” he finished, earning a nod from her. He leaned back and stretched, his back emitting a few satisfying pops, before continuing. “Well, there really ain’t much to tell. Actually, mine and Skeets’ stories are pretty much the same ‘til about two years ago, when pops died. Before that, we were barely managin’ to keep the garage in the black, seein’ as how a whole bunch o’ these other customs shops was openin’ up in the north ‘n east districts.

"The one thing we had goin’ for us was pops’ reputation as debatably the best grease monkey in Vegas. When he finally kicked the bucket, not only was we stuck with the funeral costs, but some o’ the folks we relied on to keep the place afloat stopped comin’. We had a few loyal folks, o’ course; folks like Allen who considered the Bailey’s to be family friends, or at least knew enough about us to know that Skeets can do anything pops could and more.

"Wasn’t enough though. Garage started sinkin’ deeper ‘n deeper into the red, and we was facin’ bankruptcy ‘n foreclosure in just a few weeks. Allen helped in any way he could, but we was runnin’ outta options fast.” He sighed before continuing, disgust evident in his voice. “That was when I decided it was time to suck up mah pride and join the army.”

Knowing the distrust all three men shared for their government, Twilight could understand how difficult that decision must have been. “That was noble of you.”

“Noble, she says…”Arnold repeated with a snicker. “That’s funny. Nah, family comes first is all.”

“Still…” she said quietly.

Arnold took another swig, then turned back to her. “What about you? What’s yer story?”

“My story?” Twilight asked, slightly confused.

Arnold nodded in response. “Ah don’t think no one here but Al knows a damn thing about you. What’s life like on the other side, princess?”

“This’ll be good.” Allen chuckled, earning a glare from Twilight. When Skeeter had explained to Arnold what little he knew about her, he'd forgotten to include the part about her being a pony.

“What?” Arnold asked, looking over at Skeeter, who was trying hard not to laugh.

She took a deep breath and turned back to him. “The first thing you need to know is that I come from a world mainly inhabited by magical talking ponies.”

The marine’s face went blank for a moment as his mind attempted to process what he’d just heard. “Ya’ll serious?”

“Yes.” she said simply.

He continued staring at her for a moment, then shrugged. “Alright, go on.”

Now it was everyone else’s turn to stare blankly at him. Allen was the first to speak up. “That’s it? No headaches? No questioning your sanity? Nothing?”

“Ah’ll grant it sounds like bullshit, but so does some young gal with the ability to lift cars and electrocute people with her mind. Yet lookie what we got here.”

Allen traded a look with Skeeter, then shrugged and took another swig of his beer.

Arnold gestured to Twilight, who nodded as she continued. “My life isn’t as…interesting…as yours. In fact, it’s quite boring by comparison. I live with my parents in Canterlot, our country’s capital, where I study magic, magical theory, magical history, and a whole list of other subjects. My brother’s the captain of the royal guard, and that’s…really all there is to tell.”

“Royal guard?” Skeeter repeated. “Ya’ll got a monarchy over there?”

“It used to be a diarchy, but something happened to one of the rulers a long time ago.” Twilight replied, her brow furrowing as she tried to remember what exactly had happened. “I actually can’t remember what it was. I know I read about it somewhere, but…”

“Just worry ‘bout it when ya git home.” Arnold suggested. “Ain’t that big a deal.”

“I guess…” she said distantly.

They waited for her to say something else, but she remained silent. Looking for some way to break the empty silence, Arnold turned to Allen. “So what’d Robocop have to say?”

“I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone about the conversation, and I’m going to stand by that promise, but let’s just say that the last three years make a lot more sense now.”

“Uh-huh.” Skeeter said, wishing for more but knowing better than to ask. “So what’s next on the retirement plan?”

“A job.” he replied simply. “A real job, mind you. Maybe I’ll try resurrecting my career as a detective. I might have a very specific skill set, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do some good with it, right?”

“Seems like ya’lls been doin’ a lotta good lately. Rescuin’ pretty gals from the local thugs, takin’ out corrupt government officials, rescuin’ those same pretty gals from feds…ya’ll been busy lately.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that, actually.” Twilight said, attention returning to the group. “Do you remember when you stopped to rescue me even though the authorities were looking for you?”

“Yes…” Allen answered, already having an idea of where this was going.

“Why didn’t you just leave me for the authorities? I’m sure they would’ve taken me to a hospital.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No, just curious.” she answered with a shrug.

“The problem with cops is that they like to be thorough.” he explained. “They check every street, every alleyway, sometimes even buildings. That takes time, and you didn’t have a whole lot if the swelling on your head was any indication. You needed help then, not half an hour later.”

“Listen to him.” Skeeter said with a grin. “So chivalrous.”

“Oh bite me.” Allen replied. Accepting his status as a murderer was one thing, but calling him a hero just felt wrong.

“It does kind of sound like something from a story book.” Twilight agreed with a smirk.

“Right…the psychopath turned vigilante saving a random stranger from the local police and then assassinating the mayor not one week later. I’m a real Prince Charming.” he replied sarcastically. “You can tell all your friends and family about my noble acts of selflessness when you get home. As for right now, let’s drop it.”

She nodded and turned to stare silently into the fire. Allen stared at her for a moment, then looked past her at Skeeter, who was staring at her in confusion. He gave Allen a look, then turned to Arnold.

“Hey Arnie, wouldja mind helpin’ me with the spares for Beauty?”

“Sure thing.” he replied, not even questioning why Allen stayed behind as he got up to help his brother.

They disappeared inside the bunker to grab the spare parts they would need to fix the Mach 1, leaving Allen and Twilight by the bonfire. The two were silent for a long time, Allen drawing his coat tighter around him to ward off the cold night air as he waited for Twilight to say something. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned to look at her.

“Twi, what’s wrong?”

Twilight looked back at him and smiled. “Hm? Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m fine, really-”

“You keep drifting out of the conversation every time someone mentions you going home. What, you don’t want to go now?”

“Of course I do! I miss my family and my friends, and this place gives me anxiety every time I hear about how brutal it is! I can’t wait to go home, but…what if they still haven’t figured out how to open the gate?”

“You don’t think they can?”

“Of course not! I know they can as long as they follow my notes, but…”

“You took an extreme amount of notes?”

“There’s no such thing.” she replied firmly before sulking again. “I just hope they figure it out before this lunar cycle passes. I don’t think I can last another two weeks with the government trying so hard to capture me.” Her head snapped sharply to the left as she heard Allen chuckle. “What’s so funny?”

“You know what your problem is?” he asked. “You don’t have enough faith in us to get you through this. Everyone back home is doing everything they can to get that portal open and bring you home safe and sound. If they’re as smart as you’ve made them out to be, I’m pretty sure the only thing keeping them from rescuing you right now is the full moon. As for the feds, forget them. They wouldn’t risk entering the southern district when they don‘t know where I live. Remember, the surveillance is still off.”

“True…” Twilight quietly agreed.

“And even if they do, they won’t stand a chance against the four of us.”

“The four of us?” she repeated. “You’re counting the twins?”

“I know them. They’ll enlist themselves even if I tell them not to.”

“Wow. That stubborn, huh?”

“I prefer ‘dependable’.” Allen replied with a chuckle. “So don’t worry about it, alright? Whatever happens, we’ve got your back.”

“Thank you for that.” she said with a grateful smile.

“My pleasure. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna go help-”

He was interrupted as his phone started ringing. Twilight watched as he slid it out of his pocket. “Who is it?”

“Admin.” he replied, slightly surprised.

“I thought the two of you were done talking.” she said.

“I’m done taking jobs from him, but we still have each other’s numbers. Be right back.”

He walked away, answering the call as he did so. “What’s up?”

“The feds, what else?” replied the artificially deepened voice he was so familiar with.

“What are they up to now?” Allen asked irritably. Not three days had gone by and the feds were already back to harassing them.

“Nothing.” Cyrus replied, to his surprise. “That’s what’s bothering me. They’ve set up at Nellis Air Force base and are just sitting on their hands. Plus, some big wheel showed up in a chopper earlier today. I don’t know who he is or what he’s here for yet, as I’m still waiting on a report from my guy on the inside...but I feel like something big is happening.”

“And you’re just telling me this now?”

“I didn’t know about it until I got back from our meeting.”

“Alright, well…it’s probably just their boss. He’s probably pissed that they can’t catch Twi.”

“But why’s he making an appearance about it? It doesn’t add up.”

“I don’t know.” Allen replied, watching the twins gently slide a wax paper-covered hood into the back of the trailer. “All I know is you won’t find out by asking me.”

“Yeah…alright. I’ll let you know if I find anything out.”

“I appreciate it. Bye.”

“Good bye.”

Allen slid the phone back into his pocket and walked back over to where Twilight sat waiting. She turned to look at him as he approached. “What was that about?”

“Nothing really.” he replied, sitting back down. She raised an eyebrow at him, a subtle reminder that she didn’t like being left in the dark, so he elaborated. “The feds have set up shop at a military base just outside of Vegas and I think their department head is taking over command.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently he’s not happy that they can’t seem to hold you for more than a few hours at a time.”

“I can imagine. Should we be worried?”

“No. This doesn’t change anything, except that now we know where they’re stationed. They still can’t see us, so we still have the upper hand. In a few days, you’ll go home, they’ll give up, and we’ll all live happily ever after.”

“If you say so.” Twilight said, still not totally convinced. Seeing this, Allen gave her a light elbow in the arm, making her look at him in confusion.

“What’s rule number two?” he asked with a smirk.

Twilight stared at him for a moment, wondering what he could be talking about. Then the realization hit her and she rolled her eyes. “Allen is always right.”

“Damn straight.”

She shook her head and turned to face him. “But what if-”

“What’s rule number three?” he asked with a grin.

Twilight sighed dramatically, then smiled at him. “See rule number two.”

“And what’s rule number two again?” he asked, the grin somehow getting bigger.

“I’m not doing this.” she said with a chuckle as she got up to grab another soda.

“I’m always right.” he answered for her.

Twilight shook her head as she sat back down, still snickering.

Allen smiled reassuringly at her and stood up. “Don’t worry, okay? You’re gonna be just fine.”

“Whatever you say.” she replied, taking a sip of her soda as he turned to go help the twins.

Author's Note

I'm sorry I made you guys wait so long for this chapter, but I've said it before: I suck at idle chapters. This was probably a pretty garbage chapter, too. I'm sorry about that, but you can't do step two without step one right? :twilightsheepish:
On the off chance that you did enjoy this chapter, be sure to give me a thumbs-up and leave a comment with your thoughts.
Peace. :twilightsmile:

Ch.26-Action and Consequence

Simmons was silent as he made his way down the narrow hallway, occasionally passing troops and fellow agents as he went. He was wearing a simple cap to cover his eyes, as well as a jacket he’d “borrowed” from another agent in an effort to remain inconspicuous. He’d somehow managed to avoid detection thus far, but he wasn’t sure how long his luck would hold out.

His phone rang and he immediately answered it. “Myles?” he whispered.

“Are you almost there? I called you like half an hour ago, and you were just setting off.”

“I had to make a few detours. If someone recognizes me, they’re going to know I was here, and then we’ll be screwed if Remus finds out what happened.”

“Well detour faster, will you? We kind of have a time limit here.” Myles said impatiently.

“I know, just…keep quiet for a second, alright? I see the door.” he said as he turned a corner and saw the door to Remus’ office.

Myles had attempted to hack into Remus’ laptop, but since it wasn’t accessing any network there was no way for him to reach it without help. Remus himself was at a video conference with members of the Cabinet, which Simmons had immediately decided to take advantage of by manually connecting Myles to the laptop. This might be their only opportunity to find out what he was actually up to.

Simmons looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching him, then approached the door. He frowned at the keypad above the handle, then smirked when he heard said keypad beep as the door unlocked. “Thank you for that.” he said as he quickly stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

“No problem. Now hurry up and jack in so I can get started.”

The office was rather small for an agency head in Simmons’ opinion, and was completely bare of any defining features except for an oak desk in the middle and American and Nevada flags which stood like sentries by the door. A large window took up one wall, bathing the whole room in bright orange evening light.

Simmons made his way over to the desk, extracting a USB cord from his pocket and plugging one end into his phone as he went. He turned on the laptop and slid the USB end into the port as it booted up, then began tapping his fingers impatiently on the desk.

“Alright, here we go.” Myles said as the computer finished, breezing past its password protection and going straight for the files. “Let’s see what kind of skeletons our fair Remus has been keeping in here.”

Simmons said nothing as he continued to tap a rhythm on the desk, eyes locked on the office door and ears strained for the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Wait…what the hell…?”

“What?” Simmons asked, interested. “What did you find?”

“Nothing.”

Simmons sighed angrily. “This isn’t the time for jokes, Myles! Quit fucking around and-”

“I’m not joking.” Myles interjected, silencing Simmons. “There’s really nothing in his files. No folders, no documents…it’s completely empty. I’m gonna go deeper.”

Simmons suddenly stiffened as he heard whistling in the hall. He quickly went to take a peek through the crack at the bottom, expecting to see the polished black shoes of his boss nearing the door. Instead, he saw a pair of worn brown work boots and a mop head.

He got up and breathed a sigh of relief as he realized it was just a janitor and walked over to the window, opening it just enough to be able to look down. There didn’t appear to be anyone around and, as a bonus, there was a closed dumpster just below him that would make for an easy way down should he be unable to leave the way he’d come in.

“Un-frickin-believable.” Myles said in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.

“Still nothing?” Simmons asked, returning to the desk.

“Nada. His computer’s completely blank, wiped clean.”

“Emails?” he asked hopefully.

“This thing hasn’t been online since it was purchased.”

He sighed dejectedly and leaned against the desk. “So let me get this straight…we’ve aided the escape of a person of interest…”

“Yup.”

“…flat-out lied to our commanding officer…”

“Check.”

“…infiltrated said commander’s office and hacked his laptop…”

“Mm-hmm.”

“…all for nothing?”

“Kinda seems that way.” Myles said. “What do you want to do now?”

“I…don’t know.” he admitted. There weren’t many places the agency head could be hiding such sensitive information. He hadn’t told Myles, but he had been banking on the laptop holding the evidence needed to convict Remus of…whatever Remus was guilty of. The fact that it was empty did more than complicate the situation.

Maybe I can trigger an investigation without the evidence. he thought to himself, then immediately dismissed the idea. Shining government record or not, he didn’t possess the weight that his boss did. If he tried to start anything without the evidence, the most they could do was call Remus in for questioning, and even then it would be his word against theirs.

Simmons ran a hand down his face, then crossed his arms and stared at the laptop as he wondered at the thing that had been bothering him since Remus’ arrival. Were they wrong? Was it possible that Remus was innocent? That this had all just been a misunderstanding?

He shook his head angrily and jammed his hands into his pockets, beginning to pace the room. Ghost had already pointed out how flawed his commander’s alibi was, and the anomaly’s behavior only bolstered his suspicions.

“Uh…Simmons? You alright in there?” Myles asked, uncomfortable with how silent his partner had become.

“We’re missing something Myles. You and I both know Remus is hiding something.”

“But if that’s the case, then where’s it at? It would be right here on his computer, right?”

Simmons glanced over at his phone. “You think he’s innocent now?”

“Of course not. I smell the same rotten fish you do, I just can’t seem to find it.”

“Maybe he’s hiding it on his phone.”

“He’s not stupid. Even the best phone security is pretty weak. He wouldn’t risk discovery by storing information that sensitive behind such weak security. Even if he stored it in a separate location, all you’d need are the passwords from his devices and you’d get it anyway.”

“You think he knows that?”

“If I’ve learned one thing over the years, it’s that he’s surprisingly tech-savvy.” Myles replied. “Something made even more obvious by the fact that the aforementioned information is nowhere to be found on his computer.”

Nowhere on the computer, nowhere on his phone, not in a separate location…

Simmons stopped pacing.

“You said there was nothing on the computer?”

“Yes. Do I hear an epiphany coming on?” Myles asked hopefully.

“Not even his government clearances?”

The computer junkie was silent for a moment before the realization struck. “Wait…are you saying…?”

“If he had the clearances, then they would be here.” Simmons answered.

Myles whistled in astonishment before replying. “So right now we’re all operating outside the chain of command?”

“Black ops. Yup.”

“Holy shit…and just when I thought this trip couldn’t get any more exciting. What a plot twist.”

Simmons opened his mouth to agree with him, but stopped as he heard the distant sound of dress shoes clicking against the floor. “Myles, shut down! Now!” he whispered.

There was a moment’s silence before the other man replied. “Done. Get out of there.”

Simmons quickly shut the laptop, yanked the cord out of the computer, jammed it and his phone into his pocket, and vaulted through the hinged window and hung onto the sill. He fumbled with said window for a second until he heard the door open, then dropped to the dumpster below and sprinted away from the building as fast as his legs could carry him.

((((((*******))))))

“The swap’s finished, boss. All our guys are in position, everyone’s been assigned squads, and all around we’re set to go.”

“Good to hear, August.” Remus replied as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. “And you’re ready to move if he tries to make a run for it?”

“He ain’t gonna get very far, that’s for sure.” August said with a sinister chuckle.

Remus’ eyes narrowed at those words. “Just remember that I need her alive. If you go crazy and kill her, then all of this was for nothing. She’s our only chance to make this work.”

“Relax boss. We’ve got this.”

“Alright, good.” he replied. “The encryption should be down in a few hours. Stand by until then.”

“Roger that.”

“Remus out.”

With that he hung up, took a seat in the desk chair, and propped his feet up on the desk with a tired sigh. He checked the time on his phone and realized he’d been gone far longer than he’d intended. That didn’t surprise him, considering the difficulty of the task he’d just accomplished. Whoever had written that encryption had been something of a genius. He’d almost had to reset the servers twice.

And yet I still beat it. he thought smugly as he crossed his arms and closed his eyes, already feeling himself drifting off into dreamland. Normally, he’d travel back to the city and retire to his hotel room, but tonight he felt content to sleep where he was. That hotel bed sucks anyway.

As he sat there waiting for sleep to take him, he began to worry about Flynt. Ever since he’d found out he was alive, he’d worried about what would happen when he finally succeeded in making it to Ethis. He had to do this, regardless of how Flynt felt about it. But he hoped that the younger man at least had the good sense not to get in his way.

Heavens knew he’d already suffered enough.

Deeper and deeper he drifted, his musings gradually giving way to blissful ignorance. The world around him became little more than a barely intelligible mix of pleasant sensations. The warmth of the waning sun, the rhythmic ambience of the army base combined with the relative quiet of his office, the gentle breeze from the window that played across his face…

Remus’ eyes snapped open, and he immediately glanced over at the slightly open window. The same window that he had closed when he’d left a few hours ago.

His mind instantly went from half-conscious to full panic as his gaze fell upon the laptop on his desk. He sat up and placed a hand under it, feeling the barest trace of warmth left over from its previous use, which couldn’t have been more than a few minutes ago.

“Shit!” he hissed as he reactivated the laptop, walking over to peer out of the open window before shutting and locking it.

How could he have been so careless? Using the terrorist angle had been a risky gamble to begin with. Someone was bound to suspect sooner or later that something in his story didn’t add up, and now that someone had tampered with his personal laptop, which he had stupidly left sitting out on his desk in plain sight. He just hoped that they hadn’t been on long enough to actually get into his files.

The computer finished booting up and he quickly restored the previous session, hoping against hope that his secrets were safe. Said hopes were dashed as his file browser was immediately brought up, showing his lack of clearance quite plainly.

His fists clenched as he watched his plan begin to fall apart, then relaxed. The situation was still salvageable. All he had to do was find out who had just gone through his files, and since they would’ve had to have been in front of the computer to do so, that would be easy.

He brought up the archived footage captured by the built-in video camera above the screen. Normally, said camera would be used for video calls, but Remus had repurposed it as a means of keeping track of whoever accessed his laptop. Since he was the only one allowed to do so, any face that wasn’t his was fair game.

The feed began playing, and Remus folded his hands together to watch. He frowned as Simmons’ face appeared on the screen, a frown which only deepened when he noticed the man wasn’t doing anything.

Myles…

Of course it was them. It couldn’t have been anyone else but them. Simmons’ creative thinking combined with Myles’ ability to get him in and out of places where he wasn’t allowed had been what made them such a valuable asset. They were also well-known for occasionally violating protocol or deviating from given orders to follow one of Simmons’ hunches. No one else had the ability or the nerve to do what they had just done.

That didn’t stop him from wishing that the face before him would vanish, to be replaced with another. Preferably one that he didn’t recognize.

He sighed as he powered down the laptop and dialed Simmons’ number. He’d attempt diplomacy first since it was his best agent, but Simmons could no longer be trusted on this mission. One way or the other, he needed to permanently resolve this matter before it went out of his control.

((((((*******))))))

A distant red haze was all that remained of the suns light by the time Simmons exited the base, making his way toward the place where he would meet his commander. Under better circumstances, he might have taken a moment to gaze at the beautiful masterpiece crafted from the heavens. As it was, his partner’s incessant panicking prevented him from properly appreciating the sight.

“Don’t do it.” Myles said fearfully. “Just grab a car and get out of there. Get as far away from that damned city as possible.”

“What kind of plan is that?” he replied, making his way along the outside of the wall as he searched for Remus.

“IT’S A BETTER PLAN THAN YOURS!” the hacker yelled, then took a shaky breath. “Your plan is fucking suicide!”

“Myles, you seem to be forgetting who’s in control here.” Simmons said with a smirk. “We have information that could put Remus in a federal locker for a long time.”

“Really? The guy locks your phone down and not ten minutes later tells you to meet him outside the base…and you think we’re still in control?”

“He might’ve locked my phone down, but he can’t do anything to you. He knows if anything happens to me, you’ll take this info to whoever you need to in order to lock him up.”

“Oh great. As long as you die with a purpose, right?”

“You know, I do have skills other than giving orders and performing detective work.”

“Oh! Right, sorry…you also get taken hostage by mercs.”

Simmons’ smile fell. “Oh come on, that was one time out of the past four years! Have a little faith, will you?”

There was a short pause before Myles sighed in acceptance. “Alright, you’re right. So what are you going to do about this then? Pretend like we don’t know anything so he’ll unlock your phone?”

“I'm assuming that he already knows that we know. What I want to do is worm a confession out of him.”

“Ohhhh…”

“His lack of clearance is one thing, but if we can record him admitting his reason for doing all of this, we’ll really blow him out of the water.”

“So you’re just going to bluff your way through this and…oh, this is a terrible plan and I love it.” Myles said with a chuckle before growing serious again. “But what if something does go wrong and he doesn’t confess?”

“Whatever you hear will probably be confession enough.” Simmons said simply as he turned a corner, noticing Remus leaning against the wall a short way’s away. “Alright, showtime.”

“Roger.”

He set the phone to speaker and tucked it inside his jacket pocket, then continued walking along the wall toward where Remus waited patiently. Remus gave no sign that he even noticed him as he leaned against the wall next to him. They were beyond pleasantries at this point and they both knew it. Going through formalities would simply be a waste of time.

Remus waited a few seconds before addressing him. “Simmons, I won’t beat around the bush. We both know why I called you here.”

“I’m afraid I don’t, sir.” Simmons replied. He decided to start by pretending he didn’t know anything, hoping that Remus might accidentally let a few things slip.

“Really? Well then allow me to refresh you…” countered the commander, turning to face him. “About an hour ago, you hacked into my personal laptop and discovered that I lack any form of government clearance, which means you also know quite a few other things.”

“Not much, really. Just that you’ve been lying to us since before we got here.”

“Alright, you’ve got me. She’s not a terrorist, we’re not at war, and I’ve been using you to get to Ethis.”

“That’s…all we needed to hear.” Simmons said, surprised at how cooperative the other man was being. “Myles?”

“On it.” the younger man replied, keys clicking in the backround. “Wait, what?”

Simmons raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What is it?”

“My comms are jammed! I can’t contact anyone!”

“Good.” Remus replied, causing Simmons to glare at him. “Then we have a little while to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Simmons retorted. “You ordered federal agents to illegally occupy Las Vegas, ordered the capture of an innocent girl, and could have possibly started a war with beings from another dimension. You’re going to be put away for this Remus.”

“Do you really think a Supreme Court justice is going to believe anything you say about magical gateways to other dimensions?”

“If I can’t get her to testify, then I’ll convince someone from her universe to represent her. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to help us put you in a federal prison.”

Remus nodded in understanding before he replied. “That’s assuming I allow you to live for that long.”

Simmons was taken slightly aback by the forwardness of the statement, but he quickly recovered. “I don’t think you realize how very screwed you are sir.”

“You see, we have you trapped.” Myles chipped in. “We have the dirt to put you in federal custody. Prison once we get the anomaly to testify. If anything happens to Simmons, I’ll know it’s you trying to cover this up and I’ll just give everything I know over to the higher ups. One way or another Remus, you’re going behind bars.”

“You really don’t know half of what’s going on here.” Remus said sadly. “You lost control of the situation as soon as I discovered that you’d been on my laptop. Let me ask you something: how safe do you feel right now Myles?”

Neither Simmons nor Myles knew what to say to that. As far as they were concerned, Myles was unfindable by anyone. However, Remus’ continued confidence was making them slightly nervous.

“Relatively.” Myles finally answered.

“I can promise you that I know exactly where you are, and should the need arise I can have you dealt with in a matter of minutes. As for Simmons,…” he gave the man in question an unsettlingly confident smile. “I’m pretty sure I can take him.”

Simmons found his voice once more and glared at his commander. “So then why haven’t you killed us yet? It would certainly save time.”

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come, and it’s former owner sighed. “Do you know how hard it is to find good, honest men in this world? To find men who selflessly strive for the betterment of society rather than their own selfish ends? To find men like you?”

Simmons raised an eyebrow, wondering why Remus was resorting to idle flattery all of a sudden.

“Not easy, I assure you, and even harder to find such men who work so well together. To kill you would be an absolute waste. That’s why I want to give you an opportunity.”

“An opportunity?” Myles repeated flatly.

“Yes. You might be wondering why I’d go through all the trouble of organizing this little occupation. The truth is far from simple, but let’s just say that there are greater powers at work than even the anomaly can comprehend. Powers that seek to eradicate us ‘lesser beings’.”

“And you want us to help you fight against them?” Simmons guessed.

“Or, at the very least, keep your trap shut long enough for me to do my job.” Remus said with a nod. “In a matter of hours, I will know exactly where she and Flynt have been hiding. Once I do, I’m bringing the axe down and finishing this. Are you going to be there when it falls? Or are you going to help me?

Simmons put his hands in his pockets, appearing to consider the offer. In reality, he was sizing up his opponent-to-be. He noticed a gun handle sticking out from under the man’s suit jacket, and decided that would be his first move. Myles, unfortunately, would have to fend for himself.

“I don’t think so, Remus.” he said finally, taking his hands out of his pockets. “Myles, are you going to be alright over there?”

“I’ll be fine.” Myles replied confidently. “I’m looking all around the area, but I don’t see anyone. I think he’s bluffing.”

The commander sighed sadly, then pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Simmons stared at the phone in confusion for half a second.

He’d barely registered the distant crack of a rifle before a round tore through his head, sending him crumpling sideways against the now blood-covered wall.

“Simmons!?” Myles called fearfully.

Remus finished sending the attack order and slid his phone back into his pocket, glancing down at the bloodied mess that used to be his best agent.

“SIMMONS!!”

“Simmons is dead, Myles, and I’m afraid you’re next. A strike team is on its way to kill you right now. They should arrive in a matter of seconds.”

Silence answered him, and he felt sympathy for the computer junkie on the other end. He’d dragged the two of them into this without a second thought and now they were both paying the price for his own lack of forethought. “I’m sorry Myles.”

“No you’re not.” the hacker replied quietly. “But you will be.”

Suddenly, Remus felt a lot less sympathy for the other man.

((((((*******))))))

The four men burst into the large apartment, pointing SMGs in various directions. It didn’t look much different than any other apartment, except for the closed blinds and high-end electronic equipment set up in the living area.

Their sergeant straightened up. “Split up and find him. He didn’t leave, so he must be hiding somewhere.”

“Yes sir!” The other three chorused. Two of them took the hallway left to the bedroom and bathroom, one headed into the living area, and the leader stood guard by the door.

A few minutes later, the two men who’d investigated the hallway returned, both shaking their heads. “Negative.”

“Living room’s clear.” The third said as he rejoined his comrades.

“That’s impossible.” The leader said, shaking his head in confusion. “Go double-check.”

“We did sir. We’ve torn the rooms apart. He’s definitely not in there.”

He sighed dramatically. It’s just a web head. He can’t be this hard to find. “Alright, hold on.”

He drew his phone and dialed the commander. The dial tone ended almost immediately, and he wasted no time explaining the situation. “Sir, Agent Avalon is not in the building. Something isn’t-”

“Good evening sergeant.”

The man stopped talking as quickly as he’d started. “Avalon?”

“I understand you have orders to kill me, correct?”

“What? No.” the sergeant replied, deciding to get crafty. “There’s been a leak in our security. Your safety might be at risk, so we’ve been assigned to escort you to a safe location.”

“Damn, that was convincing.” was Myles’ very unconvinced reply. “I might have believed you if I didn’t already handle all my own security.”

Suddenly, the lock to the front door clicked, attracting the attention of all four men. Oh boy… the sergeant thought nervously. They were trapped like rats.

“Sir, could you do me a favor? I want you to give Remus a message for me.” the hacker continued.

The man’s eyes squinted in suspicion. “What is it?”

Suddenly, they all heard beeping coming from the floor just below them. The sergeant looked down, eyes wide and mouth going dry.

“Fuck you.”

And that was all he heard before the whole apartment exploded.

Author's Note

Be sure to give me a thumbs-up if you enjoyed, and also leave a comment telling me what you thought about the chapter. Or if you want to just...I don't know...talk.
Peace. :twilightsmile:

Ch.27-Skeeter Pledges Sobriety

Skeeter straightened up and arched his back, wincing as it popped several times, then looked down to scrutinize his handiwork. When he’d started work on Black Beauty yesterday, he’d marveled at the fact that Allen had managed to get her all the way back to his garage. There were bullets in every place he could think of, including various nooks and crannies in the engine. It had taken a good four hours to remove them all, and that was before he’d actually started repairs.

Allen and Arnold had naturally volunteered to help him with said repairs, but he had respectfully declined. Beauty was the culmination of his mechanical expertise, his very own ninth symphony. As soon as she entered the shop, she was officially his and his alone.

With nothing else to do the following morning, Allen had left with Twilight to go find something to eat, Arnold content to sleep the morning away. Skeeter was left completely alone with his masterpiece, and he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t pleased. No distractions, no one else in the room…just him, Black Beauty, and a full pint of razor-sharp focus.

Now, as he finally took a step back to admire his work, he couldn’t help but smile at the shiny eight-cylinder before him. Most of the pistons had needed replacing, along with a few other vital components such as the fuel lines and crankshaft. He’d gotten particularly frustrated at a few rounds that had somehow lodged themselves in the revolving mechanism and made it nigh-impossible to remove, halfway through deciding to work on the body and come back to it later. All in all, it was work on a level similar to when Allen had first brought her in two years ago, and the payoff was just as satisfying as before.

Allen and Twilight walked in just in time to see him close the hood. “Hey there gorgeous.” Allen said with a grin as he saw his car.

“Skeeter, are you sure you don’t have magic?” Twilight asked as she too marveled at the newly refurbished Mach 1.

“What kinda question’s that? Course Ah got magic!”

Allen rolled his eyes. “Oh lord…”

“Whaddya think the grease is for?” the mechanic continued, grinning as he gestured to the filth covering every square inch of his body. “Ya think Ah git covered in this stuff as Ah work? Naw ma’am. This here’s mah magic grease. Ah rub it all over mahself and mah clothes before Ah git to work. Gives me super mechanic powers.”

“Oh really?” she replied, amused.

“You betcha.” he replied. “Bailey trade secret.”

“I take it the wrench is your magic wand, then?” Allen asked.

Skeeter scoffed in response. “Wands r’ fer noobs. Ain’t that right Twi?”

“Oh, yes.” she replied smugly, sharing a fist-bump with him.

Allen rolled his eyes again. “Whatever. Test-drive?”

“Shotgun.” the mechanic replied simply as he opened the door, then abruptly stopped and looked down at his greasy attire. “Maybe Ah should change first.”

“What, are you worried about getting your ‘magic’ all over the seat?” Allen asked impatiently, then sighed regretfully.

Skeeter grinned his biggest and stupidest grin, one he reserved for whenever Allen screwed up as royally as he just had. Even Twilight hid her face in her hands as she tried not to openly laugh at his poor choice of words.

“Oh, sure!” he said in annoyance. “You don’t know what porn is, but you know exactly what that sounds like!”

Twilight tried and failed to respond to that, instead turning away to continue laughing. Allen shook his head and turned back to the mechanic, who had also begun to crack up.

“Get your head out of the oil pan and get in the damn car, jackass.” he ordered, ducking into the driver’s side. Skeeter snorted in barely contained laughter as he did as he was bidden, and the two backed out and took off down the street. Twilight shook her head, still chuckling quietly, and walked back into the garage toward the waiting area, sat down, and picked up a magazine.

Upon arriving back in Vegas, she’d quickly burned through the garage’s limited supply of reading material. She’d tried pestering her new friends for information, but Skeeter and Arnold barely had any knowledge of anything that didn’t have to do with cars, and what they did know she’d already found out from Allen, who admitted that at this point he was pretty much useless without his laptop.

With her main (and possibly only) form of entertainment out of the question, it had gotten to the point where she was constantly relying on the three of them to break the monotony of what had become daily life in the garage. When they weren’t around, she was forced to default to reading whatever she could get her hands on…even if it was an automobile enthusiast magazine that she’d practically memorized already.

She sighed resignedly as she flipped the pages to a semi-interesting debate concerning the balance between power and economy in the automotive industry, just as Arnold came downstairs with a yawn and looked around. “Where’d everybody go?”

“They’re out testing the Mach 1.” she replied flatly.

He looked over at her. “Ya’ll sound bored as hell.”

“I really am.” she admitted. “There isn’t much for me to do around here.”

“Ah. Sorry ‘bout that.” he said sympathetically, just now realizing the predicament the scholar probably faced here.

“It’s not your fault.” she said with a smile, then a grin. “Besides, now that the Mach 1’s fixed, Allen and I can go home and I can use his computer to do research! I think I’ll do international relations next…well, provided I don’t encounter the same issues as I did last time.”

“Issues?” Arnold repeated, an eyebrow raised curiously.

Twilight hesitated, then shook her head. “I’d…rather not talk about it.”

He squinted at her for a moment, then shrugged and went over to the fridge to find something to drink. “Backtrackin’ a little, why do ya’ll wanna study international relations of all things? Sounds kinda borin’.”

“Well, I’ve never thought of war as more than a once in a lifetime experience. Humanity, however, seems to get in one every couple of years. The first World War, the Vietnam War, the second World War, the Cold War, and now one overseas? I just want to know why you keep fighting.”

“Religion, greed, and people takin’ shit too personally.” the marine said under his breath as he shut the fridge, soda in hand. “Hey, if yer so bored, why didn’t ya’ll go with ’em?”

“Do you remember when Skeeter said that garage repair was sort of a…‘you guys’…activity?”

“Yeah.” he said with a nod, already knowing where she was going with this.

“I feel like the Mach 1 is in similar territory, except specific to just Allen and Skeeter.”

Arnold nodded as he took a swig from the bottle. “Well, she is kinda theirs. Al fell in love with ‘er soon as he saw ‘er two years ago, and Ah’m sure Skeets’ already told ya ‘bout the blood, sweat, and tears he’s put into her well-bein’. Honestly, they treat that car like a kid they had together.”

“That makes me wonder for whatever reason: have any of you ever had a marefriend?”

Arnold raised an eyebrow at her odd word choice. “Marefriend?”

“Girlfriend, sorry.” Twilight corrected herself. She tried to keep up with the native lingo as much as she could to avoid confusion, but the occasional slipup was unavoidable.

Arnold grinned mischievously at her. “Why, interested in someone?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “No, it’s just that I can’t imagine how three boys can love one car so much.”

“Ooh, good one.” he remarked, genuinely amused.

She nodded appreciatively. “Thank you.”

Both of them turned towards the garage entrance as the sound of an engine met their ears, the source suddenly sliding into the cracked driveway and fishtailing until it faced the street at an angle. Twilight smiled as Skeeter and Allen exited the Mach 1, both grinning like schoolchildren.

“Hey, bein' scared's one thing, mistrust is somethin' else.” Skeeter explained, smiling devilishly. "Scared woulda meant not comin', but mistrust means shoot them fuckers first."

"That makes sense." Allen replied before looking at the original occupants of the garage. “Morning everyone. What’s up?

“Ya’ll ever had a girlfriend Al?” Arnold asked.

“Uhhhh…why?”

“Twi was wonderin’.”

“If any of you have had a girlfriend.” Twilight quickly added, glaring at Arnold as he smirked at her.

“I get it, don’t worry.” Allen assured her. “I haven’t, but uh…Skeeter had a really short fling with this chick in eighth grade. Can’t really remember what happened…”

“She stood me up at that dance n’ went with some rich fucker instead.” Skeeter reminded him, no longer smiling.

“Oh yeah. Fucking tramp…”

“…and Ah was flirtin’ with this chick over in San Fran for a few months, but…” Arnold trailed off briefly. “…well, I’d actually prefer not to talk about it.”

“She turned out to be a dude.” Skeeter finished for him, grinning evilly as he received the finger.

“That’s…wow.” Twilight said, torn between shock and sympathy.

“That’s internet datin’ fer ya.” Skeeter said with a shrug, walking over to the fridge and extracting a familiar brown bottle.

Allen cocked a brow at him. “Skeeter…”

“Oh, come on!” the mechanic growled in annoyance. “Sixteen hours to get Beauty back on her feet! Sixteen! Ah’ve earned this!”

The other three occupants of the garage sighed collectively as he popped the cap off on the fridge and took a long draft. He smacked his lips dramatically before addressing them again.

“Besides, it’s just one. What could one possibly do to me at this point?”

“Besides shut down your liver?” Twilight offered.

Allen opened his mouth to comment, only to be cut off by a bright flash above the worktable.

Everyone in the garage stared at said table in silence for a few seconds before Allen decided to try talking again.

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

“Didn’t have nothin’ combustible over there.” Skeeter replied, just as confused.

The air flashed twice more, shimmering slightly afterwards.

Twilight suddenly leaned forward in her seat. “Wait a minute…”

“What?” Allen asked.

“I think-”

Suddenly, all four of them were blinded as the worktable exploded in a third, giant flash.

“FLASHBANG!!” Arnold yelled.

“Then where’s the ‘bang’!?” Skeeter snapped. “Also that was a pretty late callout!”

“Both of you cram it!” Allen yelled, his vision slowly returning. “What in the name of all that’s holy just happened?”

“I dunno, but it scared the crap outta me!” Arnold replied, his voice slightly higher in pitch.

Twilight suddenly gasped, drawing Allen’s attention.

“What?” Allen asked, looking in the direction of the worktable and promptly let his jaw drop. “Oh. Hi.”

The area above the worktable was now dominated by what he could only describe as a four-foot wide hole in the air. Beyond said hole was a room with a second landing, large window, and many packed bookshelves. And inside the room, eyes scanning the garage, was-

“PRINCESS CELESTIA!” Twilight screamed happily, sprinting over to the table.

“Twilight! Thank goodness!” replied the princess, relief evident in her expression but quickly replaced with confusion. “Um…Twilight? What happened to you?”

“What? Oh!” Twilight said, suddenly remembering that she’d been a pony the last time she’d talked to her mentor. “It’s a part of the Breach’s equilibrium mechanic. I’ll turn back once I cross back over.”

“I see. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” she answered, smile suddenly replaced with a worried expression. “How’s Spike? Shining? Mom and Dad?”

“They’re…alright…but we’ve all been worried about you.” she said seriously, making Twilight wince guiltily. The alicorn princess suddenly turned to her left. “Speaking of which…Moondancer, could you go get Twilight’s family?”

“Right away, princess!” replied a voice just out of view, the clicking of hooves against stone marking the owner’s departure.

The sound of receding hoofsteps was suddenly replaced by the pitter-patter of small feet approaching the Breach opening. Suddenly, the top half of Spike’s head appeared, his eyes going wide as he saw her. “Twilight!” he exclaimed.

“Hi Spike.” she said, smiling again. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know: happy to see you again, angry at you for not listening to me when I said this was an accident waiting to happen.” he replied crisply as he reached towards the portal, only to be stopped by Celestia.

“It’s not stable enough to use yet.” she said. “I’m surprised we’re even able to talk to her.”

“Drat.” the drake replied in annoyance, before turning back to Twilight and raising an eyebrow.

Twilight sighed regretfully. She had a lot to apologize for, not the least of which was writing off Spike’s warning. “I’m sorry Spike. You knew from the start that this was a bad idea and I should’ve listened to you.”

Spike glared at her for a moment longer before allowing his expression to soften. “Just…hurry up and get back here, will you? We’ve missed you.”

“I’ll try.” she said, smiling warmly at him. His face moved, and she could only assume that he was smiling back at her.

“By the way,” he continued. “what happened to your-”

“YOUNG LADY, YOU ARE GROUNDED UNTIL YOU DIE!!”

Twilight winced again as her mother suddenly charged into view, the anger on her face making it evident that she’d done nothing but worry for the past week and a half. “NOT A SINGLE WORD TO ANYPONY AND YOU JUST CASUALLY WALTZ THROUGH A SWIRLING VORTEX TO PARTS UNKNOWN!? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED SICK WE’VE ALL BEEN!?”

Night Light calmly walked into view and stood a good distance away, obviously content to wait out the fury being directed at Twilight rather than get involved.

Velvet noticed this and turned to glare at him. “Aren’t you going to yell at her!?”

“You seem to be yelling enough for the both of us.” he replied calmly.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a bemused look. “At least say something.”

He turned to look at Twilight, who could already feel how disappointed he was in her and shrank under his gaze. “We can’t legally ground you anymore; you’re too old for that. However…” he added as his wife opened her mouth to argue. “…as your parents, we have other ways of making you suffer.”

Twilight shrank even further at that.

“Twily!?” called Shining Armor as he darted in, Cadence close behind. Moondancer had obviously elected to stay outside, deciding this was a family matter and that she could speak to Twilight later. “Are you alright!? Please say you’re alright!”

“Shining!” Twilight said, smiling once more as her big brother came into view. “Yes, I’m fine!”

He breathed a sigh of relief, then stared blankly at her for a moment. “Uh…what happened to-”

“It’s just something that happens when you go through the Breach. I’ll turn back to normal when I go back through.”

“Ooh.” everypony but Celestia responded in unison.

“Twilight, you had everypony worried out of their minds!” Cadence said miserably. Twilight guiltily noticed how thin she looked.

“I know! I’m sorry, everpony! I really am!” Twilight replied with equal misery. “The Breach opened, and I charged straight in without a second thought. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“But why didn’t you come back through? What happened?”

Twilight hesitated before answering. “I was attacked shortly after arriving here. I…they…”

She trailed off as memories of that fateful night came back to haunt her. The terrifying psychopath with the knife, what he’d been about to do to her, her family never seeing her again, and pain…so much pain…

“Twilight? Are you okay?” Spike asked, noticing how quiet she was getting.

She heard him and tried to respond, only to choke back a sob as more of the memories surfaced. Her family stared wide-eyed at the tears that had begun rolling down her face.

“Twilight, honey, what’s wrong?” asked her mother, anger completely forgotten.

Twilight started as she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Allen staring at her. She stared back for a moment, then took a deep shaky breath. He took that as his cue to continue the story and turned to face the ponies on the other side of the portal. “They almost killed her.”

The group in the study collectively gasped. Allen continued, ignoring them.

“I think it started with a simple mugging, then escalated when she used her magic to defend herself. When I found her, they were getting ready to finish her off.”

“Twilight…” Cadence whispered.

“I…I came so c-close to never seeing any of you ag-gain, all because of a s-silly mistake I made.” Twilight said, tears still flowing without restraint. “I am so, so sorry everypony.”

Velvet too began tearing up, wishing for nothing more than the ability to jump through the hole in space and hold her daughter close until she stopped crying. The rest of Twilight’s family appeared to be exercising more restraint, if only a little.

“You saved her?” Celestia asked, addressing Allen.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” she replied with a smile, along with a majority of the ponies there. Shining Armor alone stared at him suspiciously, but didn’t say anything.

“Just…go easy on her, alright?” he said, removing his hand from her shoulder. “She’s gone through hell and back since she got here. Things are only just starting to calm down.”

They all looked back at Velvet and Night Light, who nodded simultaneously. “We’ll keep that in mind.” replied Night Light.

“By the way, I don’t believe we’ve heard your name, sir.” Celestia said.

“Allen Flynt. Nice to meet you.” he said with a smile.

“Princess Celestia. Pleasure.” She turned to the other ponies in the room. “This is Twilight Velvet, Night Light, Shining Armor, Princess Cadence, and Spike.”

“Nice to meet you all.” Allen said, jerking a thumb at his compatriots in the waiting area. “The two in the back are Skeeter and Arnold Bailey. Skeeter’s the one covered in grease, Arnold’s the one in military fatigues.”

“They seem...distant.” Celestia remarked, noting their open-mouthed expressions as they stared through the large hole in reality.

“Your sudden appearance broke them, I think. Hold on.” He took a deep breath. “YO, BAILEY!”

Arnold jumped and grinned sheepishly at him and the ponies in the study. “H-hey! How ya’ll doin’? That’s good. Ah’m fine. Really.”

“That’s good to hear.” Celestia replied with a chuckle.

Allen rolled his eyes and glanced curiously at Skeeter, who was giving no indication that he’d even heard him scream his surname.

“Skeeter?”

The mechanic turned and stared blankly at him.

“You alright buddy?”

Again, Skeeter seemed not to hear him, instead continuing to stare blankly at him. Allen began to worry that he was actually broken.

He turned to Arnold, about to ask whether or not this had happened before, when the mechanic suddenly turned the still-fresh beer bottle upside down. All watched as its liquid content poured onto the floor and seeped into a nearby drain, then jumped in shock as it hit the floor and shattered. Allen looked up from the shattered glass at his friend’s still-blank expression.

Skeeter stared back at him for a moment, then turned and walked toward the front of the garage.

“Skeets, where ya goin’?” Arnold asked worriedly.

“Fuck this shit, Ah’m out.” was the mechanic’s only reply as he walked past the Mach 1 and crossed the street.

Allen exchanged a look with Arnold, then turned back to the Breach. “Uhh…so I’m sure you all have some catching up to do. You guys do that and…me and Arnold are going to go make sure that Skeeter is still…well…sane.”

“My apologies.” Celestia said guiltily. She had gotten tired of waiting for the clock to strike nine and had simply gone to the study to attempt activating the Breach herself. She hadn’t actually expected it to work, and she certainly hadn’t expected to startle these…beings…the way she had.

“No, no, it’s not your fault. There’s no way you could’ve known. We’ll be right back.” he said as he turned to leave. “Hey Arnold, where do you think he’s going?”

“Last time I saw him like this, he went to that ol’ playground and just sat on the swing.”

“A grown man covered in grease in a children’s play area? We better hurry before someone gets the wrong idea.”

With that, both men jogged after the mechanic, leaving Twilight alone with her family and friends. She cleared her throat uncomfortably, waiting for one of them to start the conversation. Finally, her brother spoke up.

“Twily, I know you were excited that you finally got the gate to work, but would it have killed you to tell Celestia you were going through? Or, at the very least, come find me so we could go together?”

Twilight looked away in shame. “I was worried you’d stop me from going through. I’d put so much effort into getting the Breach to open that I wouldn’t be able to stand not being able to see the other side. It had become something close to an obsession.”

“I understand that feeling perfectly.” Celestia said, much to the surprise of everypony else. “Still, while we may have been averse to the idea of marching into unknown lands, I cannot stress enough how foolish it was to go alone.”

“I know. It was no excuse for coming here unprepared, or without telling anypony. I’m very sorry.”

Everypony nodded, content to let the conversation rest there for now. They’d spent far too long worrying about Twilight’s well-being. There was no point ruining their reunion by constantly berating her for her mistake.

“I meant to ask, where exactly are you?” Velvet asked. “The way Mr. Flynt described your attack made it seem like muggings are almost commonplace where you are.”

“You have no idea.” Twilight began, thankful for the slight change of subject. “I’m in a city called Las Vegas. It’s startlingly similar to Las Pegasus in that its economy is mainly driven by casinos and high-class hotels, but it’s also a center for gang violence and cartel exchanges. People are always fighting for more control of Vegas’ economy, so the streets are practically battlefields. It isn’t just Las Vegas, either. According to Allen, things like this are quite common in this world.”

“Speaking of which, who is he?” Shining said, his lack of trust plain to everypony. “Not that I’m complaining, but that was pretty convenient when he just showed up out of nowhere and saved you from certain doom. Has he asked you for anything in exchange for keeping you safe?”

“Only that I keep my head down and don’t make a scene. The less attention we attract, the better.”

“Huh.” Shining replied, slightly surprised. “Living in a city like that, I’d expect him to have at least wanted something in return.”

“He and his friends aren’t like everyone else here. They’re good people just trying to survive.”

“That’s another thing that’s been bugging me. What’s with these words you keep using? ‘Everyone’, ‘people’…”

“It’s just how they say things here. Ponies became people, everypony became everyone…it’s just the native language.”

“Ah.” she said with a nod. “And what about hell?”

“It’s the…human version of Tartarus, I believe.”

Both sides of the portal fell silent for a moment, then Cadence spoke up.

“So…when he said you’d been through hell and back…”

Twilight looked toward the garage entrance where her newest friends had disappeared. “It’s an expression he used to convey how hectic our situation has been this past week.”

“Define ‘hectic’.” her father said, concern mixed with curiosity.

Twilight launched into a lengthy recap of the events of last week. Her friends and family made for an excellent audience, asking questions only when necessary. She, for her part, told the story as best as she could: how she woke up on Allen’s couch and began interrogating him, discovering that the federal government was after her, meeting Skeeter. When she reached the part about discovering that Allen was a fixer, however, she faltered.

“What? What did he do?” Spike asked, practically hanging on her every word at this point. Shining stared intently at her, determined to learn as much as he could about the shady figure in the fedora. Twilight hesitated for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t think it’s my place to say.” she said finally. “If he wants to tell you, he will. For now, let’s just say that life in this city isn’t fair.”

There was a moment’s pause while she let that information sink in, finally broken by her father. “So…you found out what he did for a living, then what?”

“I…went for a walk to try and wrap my head around it.” Twilight said sheepishly. “That was the second time in a week my common sense had deserted me, and also the second time he’s saved me.”

Spike’s jaw dropped as she recounted the incident at the construction site, followed by everypony else’s as she told them about the falling crane. She told them about the car chase, all too eager to tell them about her first (and most likely only) time driving. She conveniently left out the conversation she’d had with Flynt while they’d been “hiding”, instead skipping straight to her capture and subsequent rescue.

“He’s retired now?” Shining asked when she finally finished.

“Yes, and thank goodness.” she replied. “He’s become so much more cheerful since his last meeting with his boss.”

“Do you like him?” asked Velvet.

Twilight blushed slightly, the question catching her completely off-guard and causing everypony to turn and cock an eyebrow at her. She looked around and backed up defensively. “What!? It’s a perfectly honest question!”

Shining facehoofed. “Geez, Mom…”

“Hey, sorry about that.” Allen said as he reentered the garage, Skeeter and Arnold close behind. Skeeter looked over at the portal in his garage, he and the ponies inside it staring blankly at each other for a moment before he shrugged and took a seat in his lawn chair.

“Sorry for startling you, sir.” Celestia said sympathetically.

“Don’t be. In fact, thank you.” Allen said with a grin, causing everyone and everypony to look at him in confusion. “Your majesty, my good friend here had a bit of a drinking problem before you showed up and shocked him into sobriety. He won’t even touch the stuff now.”

“Really!?” Twilight asked, beaming at the mechanic.

“Ya’ll done yet?” Skeeter said irritably.

“Yeah, c’mon man. Lay off.” Arnold said, his voice stern but his face grinning down at his twin.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just so excited!” Allen said giddily. “I mean, it seems like a week for fresh starts, am I right? First my retirement, then Skeeter pledging sobriety…what’s next? More customers so that Arnold can quit the army? That would be freaking awesome…”

“Ah admire yer optimism, but that ain’t how it works.” Arnold said sadly. “There’s only two ways outta the army: in a wheelchair ‘r in a casket.”

“Still…one can dream…”

“They certainly can…” he agreed wistfully.

Allen stared off into space for a moment, then looked over at Twilight. “So what did you guys talk about?”

She shrugged lightly. “Oh you know…just telling them about all the fun things we’ve done together.”

“Define ‘fun’.” he said flatly.

“Getting shot at and staging daring rescue missions mostly.”

“Ah, yes. So much fun. Did you tell them about…that?”

“No. If you want to tell them, that’s up to you.”

“Much appreciated.” he said with a smile, which disappeared as his phone began ringing in his pocket.

“Who’s that?” Arnold asked as he pulled it out and checked the ID.

“No clue.” Allen said quietly. “Think I should answer it?”

“Could be Simmons.” the marine offered.

“Maybe.” he said, staring at the still ringing phone for another second before answering it and putting it to his ear. “Who is this?”

The garage was silent for about half a second as the caller identified themselves, Allen subsequently nodding in recognition and turning to them, covering the mic.

“It’s Avalon, Simmons' partner.” he said quietly before turning away and walking towards the back. “Yeah, what’s going on?”

Arnold watched him walk away, then turned back to the group. “Ah know they helped us ‘n all, but Ah still don’t trust ‘em.”

“You’re kidding.” Twilight said, slightly surprised.

“Ah agree.” Skeeter said, sitting up. “Feds are always workin' some kind of angle. Maybe Al trusts that snake, but Ah sure as hell don’t.”

“What angle could they possibly be trying to work by giving Twilight back to you?” Cadence asked, confused.

He shrugged in response. “Ah’ll be honest with ya, Ah usually leave questions like them fer Allen. He’s the brains of our outfit. Ah’m just the mechanic.”

“What was he like when you talked to him, Twilight?” Celestia asked.

“Simmons? Well…at first he thought I was some sort of interdimensional terrorist, so we weren’t exactly buddy-buddy during our first conversation. I think he was trying to determine whether he should trust his boss’ word or mine. Our next conversation was much more pleasant, though at first I thought he was just playing on my hopes when he said Allen was on his way. He said he planned to uncover his boss’ dirty little secrets and put him behind bars before he started hurting other people.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that makes one of us.” Arnold said skeptically.

Suddenly, Allen reentered the garage, drawing the attention of everyone on either side of the Breach. His conversation with Myles had become much more urgent, and they listened anxiously as he paced around them.

“Avalon…no, Avalon! Stop being angry for a second and listen to me! You don’t want anything to do with this, alright? You need to hole up somewhere and keep your head down. If what you’re telling me is true, then he’s probably already looking for you. You need to abandon your equipment...” He trailed off as the other man spoke. “I understand how that feels, believe me. I also understand that you won’t survive if you attempt this.”

Twilight looked over at Skeeter and Arnold, who looked at her with equal confusion. What had happened to make Simmons’ mysterious partner so angry?

They turned back to Allen as they heard him sigh. “If that’s what it takes to keep you away from this mess, then fine. I’ll do it. Just, leave all your tech and stuff where it is, pack the essentials, and run. Don’t even take your phone, got it?” There was a pause as the other man answered. “Alright, good luck. Thanks for the warning.”

He hung up and turned to face them all. “Sorry to interrupt the family reunion, but we’re about to be on the federal radar.”

Author's Note

Oh yeah. That, and a rift in space-time opens between Earth and Equestria. Nothing too interesting.
Be sure to leave a comment with your thoughts, and also give me a thumbs-up if you enjoyed. Also, make sure the folder that you have this story saved to has the "track unread" option enabled so that you don't miss new chapter notifications.
Peace. :twilightsmile:

Ch.28-Disturbance

Nellis Air Force Base

Remus was standing by the window in his office, looking out towards the city where both his enemy and quarry remained hidden, when his phone rang. Without turning away from the window, he pulled it out of his pocket and answered. “Remus.”

“Lieutenant Larson. Teams have finished stocking up and are preparing to mobilize.” the caller informed him. “They’ll be in position around the Southern District in about twenty minutes. How’s the decryption coming along?”

“It failed. Whoever wrote that encryption went to great pains to ensure that it couldn’t be undone.” he replied. “Doesn’t matter. The cameras would have given us an advantage, but I have a pretty good idea of where he is. How’re the agents taking the news?”

“The official story is that you were exchanging classified information with Simmons regarding the operation when he was assassinated by the Ghost, who also tried to kill you but failed. Agent Avalon has gone into hiding, just in case Ghost has sent someone after him. I doubt you’ll find anyone readily able to question that story.”

“Good. The longer I can keep them on my side, the better.”

The line fell silent for a few seconds, during which time Remus could practically hear his lieutenant’s next question approaching. “Yes, Larson?”

“Are we doing the right thing here?” he asked. “I understand how important it is that we reach Ethis, but is all of this really necessary? Perhaps if we just explain the situation to them-”

“Any opportunity we may have still had to negotiate was lost when we kidnapped the traveler. In any case, you know how Flynt would react to seeing me again.”

“Understood.” Larson replied regretfully. “By the way, I know you said this guy would be a pain in the ass, and I don’t mean to question your orders, but didn’t you say you wanted this girl alive?”

“I did.”

“Then…aren’t explosives a little over the top?”

“They’re an added precaution.” Remus explained. “Avalon has undoubtedly warned Flynt about what we’re planning here, and if my research is to be relied upon, he’s going to enlist the aid of his best friends. One of them is a full-time mechanic and part-time prepper who’s undoubtedly prepared for about ten different scenarios like this one, and the other is a seasoned marine. Even with explosives, capturing her won’t be easy.”

“Okay…so then what about your latest request?”

“Same story.” he replied with a grin. “Plus, let’s face it…that thing is freakin’ cool.”

“And conspicuous as all hell.” Larson added curtly. “You won’t be covering this one up.”

“I know.” Remus said, smiling fading as he turned away from the window to pace the room. “This will officially mark our defection from the U.S. government, if my sudden departure for Las Vegas didn’t give those pencil pushers back in D.C. any clues.”

“Think it’ll be a problem?”

“Not if we catch the traveler now. If we can catch her and get to Ethis before the government hears about what we’ve done, we’ll be able to avoid any unnecessary conflict. Speaking of which, I assume you’ve briefed everyone about step two?”

“Ditch the hardware, merge with society, and await further contact.”

“Good. We’re all set then.” Remus said as he started towards the door. “Notify me when the teams are in position. I’m heading for the command center now.”

“Understood. Larson out.”

With that, the line went dead, and Remus left his office for the command trailer.

((((((*******))))))

Southern District

“…dead?” Twilight repeated quietly.

“He and Myles were digging around on their boss’s laptop for information they could use against him. He found out and tried to have them both killed, but Myles got away.”

Twilight stared off in shock. Simmons hadn’t even gotten a trial before being executed. If that was what the commander did to his own agents, what would happen to the rest of them if they were caught?

“Ah take back everything Ah said about the poor starchy.” Skeeter said, shaking his head sadly.

Celestia spoke up from the portal. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but what did you mean when you said you were all going to be ‘on the federal radar’?”

“Didn’t the Administrator disable the surveillance system for this district?” Twilight asked.

Allen started pacing. “Not necessarily ‘disabled’. It was more like he shut it down in a way that forced it to tell anyone who tried to turn it back on that it was broken. He’d designed the encryption to work against even the best technical help, too, so that whenever they tried to fix the problem it would appear as though they were making it worse.”

“But their commander found a way past this?” Shining asked.

“If Avalon was to be believed, and I see no reason why he’d lie to me.”

“Well…can’t Admin fix it?” asked Arnold.

“I doubt it. The feds already know that the district surveillance isn’t broken, so trying to fool them now is pointless.” Allen suddenly stopped pacing and pulled his phone back out of his pocket. “But maybe he can tell us how long we have.”

“How’s that gonna help?”

“We’ll know how much time we have to prepare.” he responded, putting the phone on speaker and resuming his pacing.

Not a word was uttered as everyone and everypony present waited, then leaned forward slightly as the dial tone was replaced by the artificial voice that was all too familiar to Allen.

“Ghost?”

“We have a problem, Admin. I need you to check on the status of your encryption for south surveillance.”

“One moment…” There was a lengthy pause accompanied by the clicking of keys on the other end of the line. Skeeter’s leg bounced impatiently while they waited. Allen caught Twilight’s eye as he passed by her, a worried look on her face. He smiled reassuringly, trying to convey a sense of confidence in the situation that he didn’t currently possess.

“Um…there’s nothing wrong with it.” Admin said flatly.

“What?” Allen replied. He stopped and looked over at the rest of the group, who merely reflected his own surprise and confusion. “You’re kidding.”

“Who told you there was something wrong with it?”

“One of the two rogue agents who helped us rescue Twilight. According to him, his partner was conversing with their boss, who let slip that he’s about to have our locations.”

“But he never mentioned the encryption?”

“No…I suppose he didn’t.”

“Good, because I’m running all the detection software that I have. Some fucker was taking shots at it earlier today, but that’s completely normal. You’re still in the dark.”

Allen bit his lip as he continued pacing. Was it possible that Myles was trying to play him? For all he knew about Simmons and his mysterious partner, the tipoff that had allowed him to rescue Twilight could have been a ruse to make him trust them. He could’ve charged straight out of the Southern district with Twilight, thinking that they were about to be in danger when in fact they weren’t.

He dragged a hand down his face in frustration. Why would they bother? They’d had Twilight, and he couldn’t have stopped them from driving off with her. Someone was pulling strings, but it definitely was not their new allies.

“You’re sure that encryption’s holding?”

“Quite sure.” Admin replied.

“Then what does the outside of the district look like?”

“One moment…” There was another brief pause as the Administrator brought up various camera feeds around the outside of the district. “Oh boy…”

“What?”

“Armored cars. Lots of them.” Twilight visibly stiffened, memories of their last encounter with armored vehicles still resonating in her mind. “They’re hiding in back alleys all over the place, not doing much at the moment, but their intentions are obvious. They’re waiting for the order to move in.”

“Sonuva BITCH!” Skeeter yelled angrily, making all present jump as he stood up and began pacing angrily. “Ya’ll tellin’ me we’re all trapped like rats!?”

“Skeeter, calm down.” Allen ordered.

“I thought you said they wouldn’t risk entering the southern district with the surveillance down!” Twilight said fearfully.

“I didn’t think they would.” he admitted.

“I still don’t understand.” Velvet said, shaking her head. “What do they want her for? She told us they needed her alive, but why?”

“Their boss…Remus, was it?” Twilight asked, receiving a nod from Allen. “Remus wants to cross over to Equestria. We don’t know why, just that he won’t give up, and he thinks I can help.”

“Admin, can you give us any details about their weapons?” asked Allen.

“No. I get the distinct impression that they know I’m watching, because they’re hiding both personnel and weapons. However, if their newest base of operations is any indication, you may as well be fighting the national guard.”

“So they could have explosives fer all we know…great.” Skeeter growled.

“Explosives!?” everypony cried at once.

Dammit Skeeter. Allen thought as he turned to tell the ponies in the study to calm down, only to be nearly knocked over by Arnold as he rushed past to take cover by the door with his SMG. He watched with a growing feeling of exasperation as the marine scanned the street for enemies, determined to hold off the incoming feds for as long as he could. “Hey Al,” he called over his shoulder. “ya’ll might wanna grab yer rifle and get up to the roof.”

Allen opened his mouth to respond, then stopped as he heard the fridge door open. He whipped around to see Skeeter holding another beer. “Screw it. Might be mah last one, anyway.”

Allen stared at him for a moment longer, then turned at the sound of commotion by the worktable. Twilight’s family was trying to force open the Breach, their horns glowing brightly but the portal growing no larger. Twilight herself simply sat down on the floor, hugging her legs as she tried hard not to panic.

“It’s not working!” Celestia said through the strain. “Spike, go find more unicorns!”

“Al, there’s a chance we can survive if we hold the garage! Go git yer damn rifle!” Arnold yelled over them panicked voices of the ponies.

Skeeter popped the cap off of the bottle and raised it to his lips, then yelped in surprise as the bottom half exploded.

Everyone in the garage looked back at the mechanic in shock. In the study, six horns died down and a purple drake stopped hallway up the steps.

Allen simply continued glaring at Skeeter, the smoking end of his silenced pistol still leveled at the brown bottle in his hand.

“Um…Mr. Flynt?” Celestia asked cautiously.

“I expect this from you people.” he said quietly as he turned to face her, sticking the weapon back in its holster. “Even Twilight, after all she’s been through this past week. But YOU TWO!?”

Skeeter took a cautious step away from him as he looked back and forth between him and Arnold, his face contorted by disbelief and rage.

“WE HAVEN’T SURVIVED AS LONG AS WE HAVE BY PANICKING LIKE LITTLE KIDS ON THEIR WAY TO THE DENTIST-” he glared at Arnold as he said this, the marine setting his gun down sheepishly. “-OR JUST GIVING UP!!” Skeeter turned and tossed the half of the bottle that remained into a nearby trash bin, then turned back to Allen with shame written on his face.

“Sorry Al.” they said in unison.

Allen took a deep breath, then turned back to both groups. “I’ll admit this doesn’t look like a cakewalk, but surviving the feds is far from impossible. The twins should know this better than anyone, since your family’s been preparing for a scenario like this for close to a hundred years.”

Skeeter and Arnold exchanged worried looks. “Ya’ll talkin’ ‘bout buggin’ out?” asked Skeeter.

“Well we can’t stay here, can we?” Allen asked.

“We need the Outlaster for that plan to work and…well, it ain’t finished man.”

“What more needs done, and how fast can you do it?”

“We got the big lug armored up, suspension’s been upgraded to compensate fer the extra weight, all the windows been replaced…the big problem is the engine.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothin’ major.” he replied, pointing behind Allen. All eyes fell upon a giant hulk of an engine in the back of the shop. Sure enough, not a piece was missing from the gargantuan assembly, its chrome finish glinting in the dull light of the garage as it hung from a large metal support structure on wheels. “‘Cept Ah ain’t installed it yet.”

Allen continued staring at the engine for a moment, wondering how on earth he hadn’t noticed it there for the past few days, then shook his head and turned back to Skeeter. “So how long?”

The mechanic’s brow furrowed for a moment. “We gotta get the damn thing outside ‘n get it bolted in right, which’s gonna be a minor pain in the ass. If Arnie helps me…twenty minutes maybe.”

“Twenty minutes?” Twilight repeated. “Do we have that much time?”

“No, we don’t.” Allen answered, putting his hands in his pockets and once more continuing to pace. “The feds could be here any minute.”

“Then we need to keep them busy somehow.”

“I know.” Allen said with a sigh, mentally preparing himself for the argument he was about to have with her. “You know…they’ve only ever seen you with me. I could probably get a good bunch of them to follow me if I charge out of South like a bat out of hell.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously. “You say that like I won’t be with you this time.”

“That’s probably because you won’t be. You’re staying with Arnold and Skeeter. That way-”

“No.” she stated firmly.

“Twilight-”

“You remember that night as well as I do, and they were nowhere near as well-equipped to catch us as they are now! What you’re suggesting isn’t a plan! It’s suicide!”

Allen pinched the bridge in frustration. “Which is exactly why you shouldn’t be there. I have the best chance of baiting the feds, so I have to go. If something does happen to me, I want you as far away as possible.”

“If I’m not around, they’ll kill you for sure!” she said angrily.

“And if they catch you, then this will have all been for nothing!”

“You…I…THIS ISN’T FAIR!! YOU JUST RETIRED!! THINGS WERE FINALLY LOOKING UP FOR YOU!!”

Allen stepped back in surprise at her outburst, staring at the tears now rolling down her cheeks.

“This city’s already taken away everything you care about.” she sniffed. “You could have moved on as soon as Admin dismissed you. You had no reason to help me after I woke up, so why did you? Why are you still helping me?”

Allen stared blankly at her as she said this, not sure how to respond.

“Twi! Do you even realize what you’re suggesting!?” Shining exclaimed.

“Why?” she repeated, ignoring him.

Allen crossed his arms. “Because this city hasn’t taken everything from me yet.”

Twilight stared at him in confusion. “What?”

“I still have two brothers…” he gestured toward the twins as he said this, then gestured to Twilight. “…and a very good friend of mine to watch out for.”

Skeeter rubbed his neck uncomfortably while Arnold cleared his throat. Twilight just stared at him, waiting for him to finish.

“My family’s dead, and I can’t change that…but if protecting what I have left in this world means getting torn apart by gunfire, then I will die happily. You’re right, it’s not fair. But you want to know something sweetheart?”

“What?”

“This is Vegas. Nothing about this cesspool is fair. We make it work anyway.”

Twilight wiped her eyes on her sleeve and looked back at him. “Can you promise me that you’ll come back?”

He stared blankly at her. “What?”

“Promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll come back to us. Please.”

For a split second, the front of Allen’s mind was occupied by a startlingly vivid image of a little boy covered in blood. The vaguest recollection of a promise similar to the one he was being asked to make also came to mind, and for a moment he was tempted to say no. He looked down at Twilight, fear of the answer he was about to give her evident in her expression.

“Twilight…” Celestia began sadly. “I don’t think there’s much he can-”

“I promise.” he replied. Fuck it.

Twilight’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Whatever happens, I’ll find some way to make it back.”

Twilight stared at him for a moment, searching his features for any signs uncertainty. Finding none, she wiped her eyes on her sleeve again and smiled. He patted her shoulder encouragingly, then turned back to the rest of the group.

“In that case, I don’t believe you finished explaining the plan.” said Celestia.

“Right. I’ll act as bait and try to keep my distance from the feds to maximize the time we have before they realize Twilight’s not with me. I’m going leave through the eastern side to hopefully drag away the feds standing guard there so that the way to the bunker is as clear as possible. However, if Remus is as smart as Simmons has made him out to be, then he’ll know something’s up as soon as I leave the district. Chances are good that they’ll leave a few guys behind to keep an eye on things.”

“What do we do if we’re spotted?”

“Run ‘em off the road. Admin, are you still there?”

“Just enjoying the show.” he replied calmly. “What do you need me to do?”

“Can you jam their comms when I leave the district?”

“Of course I can. Wait…when you leave?”

“I want to keep them out of the loop for as long as possible. Activating it when I leave will add to the illusion that Twilight’s with me. The longer everyone else can stay off their radar, the better.”

“Understood. The program I'm going to use will shut down all cell-based communication devices for exactly half an hour. This will leave the feds without a way to coordinate themselves, but it also means we won't be able to communicate with each other.”

“That's fine. We’re all meeting at the bunker, so we won’t have any issues finding each other. You guys can finish the Outlaster and book it for the bunker as soon as you’re ready, and I’ll lose the feds…somehow…and meet you there.”

“Flynt, one more thing.” Admin called.

“What’s up?”

“Once you leave Vegas, I won’t be able to help you anymore. I can only reach so far past the city limits before I risk losing connection.”

Shit. “Alright then.”

“One question.” Celestia called from the Breach.

Allen turned towards her. “Yes?”

“Judging by the size of that engine, whatever this…Outlaster…is must be quite massive. If you’re trying to avoid detection, then wouldn’t it make sense to travel in something less conspicuous?”

“Remus will be expecting that.” Allen replied. “In fact, if Avalon was to be believed, he’s probably expecting a lot of things. At least this way, if things go south, they’ll have enough armor and firepower to hold out until we can regroup.”

“Fair enough.”

“Any more questions?” he asked, turning to face everyone in turn, noting the same determined expression on all of them.

“Yeah.” Skeeter said suddenly. “Ain’t ya’ll forgettin’ somethin’?”

“Huh? Oh!” Allen raised his hand just in time to catch the keys to the Mach 1. “Thanks.”

“Try to bring ‘er back in one piece this time.” the mechanic said with a grin.

“You’re the boss.” he said as he slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition, smiling as the great beast came to life. “Good luck everyone!”

“Good luck yerself, ya crazy bastard!” Arnold called after him.

He grinned as he pulled out of the garage, but instead of turning left toward the bunker, he turned right toward his house.

“One stop first.” he muttered to himself.

Author's Note

As I'm sure you're aware, feels aren't really my strong suit, so I apologize if this chapter didn't measure up.
If you did enjoy though, be sure to shoot me a thumbs-up (there's a button for that just below the view count on the left, and pressing it also grants you eternal happiness). Also, be sure to leave me a comment with your thoughts, because I love talking to people.
Peace. :twilightsmile:

Ch.29-Snowball

Arnold watched in confusion as Allen turned and drove the completely wrong way. “Where the hell’s he goin’?”

“C’mon Arnie.” Skeeter said as he approached the massive engine block. “Ya’ll really expect him to take on a bunch of feds with a silenced pistol? He’s goin’ home to gear up.”

“He better hurry.” the marine replied anxiously.

“Twilight?” called Celestia.

Twilight hurried over to the portal. “Yes, princess?”

“Is it possible for you to take this portal with you, or for us to follow you?”

“I don’t think so. As far as I know, the Breach was only created as a means for transportation, not communication. I think you may have to power down the Breach until later, maybe sometime late in the evening.”

“Would nine o’clock be a problem?”

Twilight looked over at the twins, who simultaneously shook their heads.

“One way ‘r another, we should be settled by then.” said Skeeter.

“Hopefully, beside a cozy campfire in the desert.” Arnold added.

“Indeed.” Celestia agreed. “In that case, we’ll leave you to prepare. Good luck to you all.”

“Twiley? You stay safe little sis.” Shining said, worry evident in his tone.

“I will. I’ll talk to you all tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” her mother replied. “We love you dear.”

“I love you, too. Goodbye.”

She sighed as the portal closed, hiding the worried faces of her family once more. Skeeter exchanged a look with Arnold, then turned back to Twilight. “Hey Twi.”

Her head snapped up and turned towards him. “Hm? What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, but this’ll probably go a lot faster if ya’ll help us.” he replied.

“Of course.” she said getting up and walking over to them, wrapping the engine in her aura as she did so.

She continued to hold it as Skeeter and Arnold undid the metal fasteners keeping it attached to the mount, giving a small grunt as it was finally released. She slowly carried it out back, taking care not to bump it into anything and potentially damage it. The twins hurried past her, Skeeter carrying a toolbox and impact wrench while Arnold unraveled an extension cord. She reached the end of the lot, where Skeeter climbed onto the plow to guide the massive contraption into position, then began securing it in place from the top while Arnold worked on the underside. Her job done, Twilight sat down on a nearby stack of tires, once more falling back into depression while the twins immersed themselves in their work.

Really, what would it have hurt? Simply letting somepony…anypony…know that she’d figured out how to operate the Breach could have prevented all of this. Instead, like the fool she was, she’d charged straight into unknown territory without a care in the-

“Hey Twi, what’s on yer mind?”

She looked up as she was abruptly dragged from her self-deprecation, noticing the mechanic staring at her in concern as he continued to work. Ignoring the fact that he was managing delicate mechanical work without looking at what he was doing, she shook her head.

“I think we have more important things to worry about right now than me.”

“Lady, until this here metal giant’s up n’ runnin’, we got nothin’ but time.” Arnold called from underneath the behemoth on wheels. “Is it about yer family?”

Twilight sighed resignedly. If she’d learned anything about the twins, it was that they were stubborn. While she would prefer that they simply worry about what was immediately important, they obviously wouldn’t let this go until she cooperated. “Yes. In the chaos of the past week and a half, I’d completely forgotten that I have a family back home that’s worried sick about me.”

“No one can blame ya fer that. Ya’ll went from a peaceful life o’ studyin’ to the Vegas life o’ bein’ beat up and shot at. That’s a lot for one gal to stomach.”

“And who’s fault was that?” Twilight replied, somewhat angrily. “I jumped headfirst into a world that I knew nothing about, with no precautions or defense or plan of any kind. If it weren’t for Allen, they may have spent who knows how long wondering what happened to me.”

“Except he did show up, and you’re fine now. Yer folks know that, just like they know we’re gonna see you through this nonsense. So what’s the issue?”

“What’s the issue?” she repeated. “I scared the living daylights out of everyone I care about! I could’ve been killed or worse! They should’ve been unbelievably furious with me for what I did, so why aren’t they!?”

“Probably because they’re too happy knowin’ that yall’re still okay.” Arnold called.

“Twi, yer folks just spent over a week worryin’ that ya’ll might be dead. Now that they finally managed to get through to ya and found out that yall’re alive, ya really think they’re gonna ruin the moment by bein’ pissed at ya? Ya’ll think they’d want that?”

Twilight looked away in thought. If it were one of them here in her place, how would she react to finally seeing them again? Probably the same way.

“Yer folks are smart, Twi.” Arnold continued. “They know there ain’t no point bellyaching’ about coulda’s n’ shoulda’s. What’s happened has happened, so just make the best of it.”

“I suppose…” she said.

“Hey, c’mon. Quit worryin’ about it.” Skeeter said with a smile. “Yer folks’ll still love ya when ya git home. Worry ‘bout this then.”

“Alright.” Twilight relented.

“Great. Now do me a favor and hand me that impact down there.”

The requested tool floated up to the mechanic’s hand, and Twilight winced slightly at the racket it made as it finished bolting the engine in place. Five minutes later, Arnold crawled out from under the bus as Skeeter hopped off the plow.

“Ya got everythin’?” Skeeter asked his twin.

“Exhaust, bottom mounts, fuel injection, fuel return…” Arnold said quietly, counting the parts on his fingers.

“Plugs?”

“Got ’em.”

“Then let’s bring this thing to life.” the mechanic said as he turned to the door, wrenched it open, and climbed up to the driver’s seat. The key was already in the ignition, as he’d had no need to worry about anyone stealing a bus with no engine. He gave it a turn and listened as it turned over several times, then grinned as it rumbled awake.

“IT’S ALIIIIVE!!” he heard Arnold scream outside.

Skeeter climbed out and started jogging back to the garage. “C’mon! We ain’t got much time left! Let’s grab what we need and git on the road!”

((((((*******))))))

Allen practically threw the front door of his house open and immediately descended to the basement, searching around for anything he could use to survive the approaching conflict. In mere minutes, the worktable that had once been used as a place to clean and repair his various firearms was littered with spare magazines, a folded pocket knife, and even two grenades. It was the best armed he’d ever been in his life, and yet still he searched.

“C’mon…where the hell did I…” he trailed off as he thought for a moment, the drawer before him remaining half-searched. He suddenly snapped his fingers and darted all the way upstairs to the attic, searching around for the large plastic crate of things that he’d removed from his room before giving it to Twilight. Upon locating it, he dragged it out of its hiding spot and began sifting through its contents until he found what he was looking for.

“Hey there.” Allen said with a smile as he extracted a brown leather belt with holster attached. The smile only widened as he pulled out the shiny top-break revolver resting in said holster.

He remembered when he’d first seen Larry use it. It had been on his twelfth birthday, which his stepfather had decided to celebrate by taking him to the shooting range, much to the chagrin of his mother. Allen had been practicing with a pretty basic handgun when he heard the revolver go off all six times in rapid succession. Larry had grinned at the open-mouthed expression directed at the target sheet, which now bore six perfect headshots arranged in a crude imitation of a smiley face. When asked how he’d managed such incredible accuracy, his only response had been ‘Practice’.

For the next two years, Allen had practiced almost religiously, determined to achieve that same level of accuracy. Only when he entered high school and his education started demanding more attention did he hang up his holster. Then, the Christmas before the incident, Larry had surprised Allen by taking him to the range and letting him use the revolver. He’d attempted to recreate his stepfather’s masterpiece from two years ago, marveling at the perfect smiley face that he’d added to the faceless target sheet.

Good times… Allen thought as he removed the holster from the belt and attached it to the harness hidden under his jacket. He paused just long enough to take the two accompanying speed loaders out of the pouch on the belt, then went back downstairs to retrieve the rest of his gear.

His phone rang as he descended the stairs to the basement, and he quickly put it on speaker and sat it on the worktable. “Hey.”

“Jam’s ready to fire. Are you ready?” the Administrator asked.

“Almost, just grabbing a few spare necessities.” he replied. “By the way, quick question about that jam…”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you suggest that the other night when the feds were chasing us?”

“The jam doesn’t do anything to cameras or radios. Using it then wouldn’t have helped you.”

Allen looked up from the revolver he was loading to stare at his phone. “Hold up…they'll have radios? I thought you said they wouldn’t be able be able to coordinate?”

“I did? Huh…my bad.”

He stared blankly at the phone. “Wow. Professional.”

“Shut up.” replied his accomplice defensively. “I’m only human, after all.”

Allen sighed in annoyance. “Whatever. It’ll have the effect I want anyway, and maybe there’s a small chance they won’t have radios.”

“About as small as the chance that the Outlaster won’t be noticed. Seriously, why not just get a minivan or something? The trunk and passenger space are both huge, and there’s no way they’d expect you to try escaping in one.”

“Cyrus, think for a second.” Allen responded as clipped the pocket knife to his belt. “What would you do if you were looking for someone in a specific area, but didn’t know what car they were driving?”

The call was silent for a moment as he thought. “Run the plates and find where the car came from.”

“Exactly, and any cars I’ll radio you once I’m out. plates are also fair game. The Outlaster is really the only good option here.”

“Alright, but shouldn’t you make a plan B in case the bunker stops being an option?”

“Yes we should.” Allen replied as he picked up his phone and dialed Skeeter, mentally chastising himself for not thinking to do so before leaving the garage. The dial tone sounded twice before the mechanic picked up. “Skeeter?”

“Yeah?”

“You guys almost done?”

“We’re grabbin’ some essentials to stick in the back. Might be a long trip.”

“Probably. Listen, in case the bunker isn’t an option, do you have anywhere else we can go?”

“Huh…there’s Malcolm up in Alamo. He’ll help us ‘s long we don’t bring the feds to his door.”

Allen did his best to ignore the bad omen inherent to that name. “To the north? We’ll have to go through the city?”

“Yeah, but Ah know a good straightway. Maneuverability’s the problem with this thing, but if it ain’t got no reason to slow down, chances are it won’t, ya know?”

“Good. You still have your radio?”

“Yeah, and yours should be in the glove box.”

“Alright, tell me if you have to abort to plan B.”

“If I may make a suggestion gentlemen?” the Administrator piped up.

“What?”

“Destroy your cell phones.”

“Right. Skeeter, got that?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell Arnie, too.”

“Alright. I’ll radio you once I’m out. Otherwise, radio silence unless you change to plan B.”

“Gotcha. See ya’ll in a bit.”

The call ended, and Allen made for the front door. “Alright, I’m leaving.”

“I’m launching in ten minutes. Sound good?”

“Perfect. I guess-”

He suddenly stopped at the door.

Pausing, he turned around and took a long look around the room. His eyes darted around as he recalled various events of the past decade. The day he’d first stepped foot inside, the day he’d introduced the twins to his parents, the day Logan had come home wrapped in his baby blanket…

…the day he’d found his stepfather plastered against the wall opposite him and his brother literally hacking up a lung, the day he’d unpacked his rifle in preparation for Frost’s assassination, the day he’d spent curled up below the couch in fear of the demon in the mirror…

“Ghost?”

Allen shook his head, then shut and locked the door and turned to his car. “Sorry. I just had the weirdest feeling that I’m not coming back here.”

“You don’t sound too bothered by that.”

He slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. “Oddly enough, I’m not.”

“Well…I’m hanging up. Don’t forget to toss your phone. It’s the only way they’ll be able to track you when you leave.”

“Understood. Bye Cyrus. Thanks for your help.”

“Likewise.”

The line went dead, and Allen dropped his phone underneath the front tire. He backed out of the driveway, listening to the small ‘crunch’ the device made as it was crushed under the wheel, then shifted gears and made for the east end.

((((((*******))))))

Carl stared anxiously at the road leading further into the Southern District, occasionally stealing glances at his partner. Said partner never took his binoculars off the road, save for the occasional glance at the monitor hooked up to a device on their dashboard which pinged every time a car passed by.

There was no mistaking the impact that Simmons’ death was having on him, just as there no mistaking the reason for it. The captain had done so much for Jeff since his entrance into the CIA, and thanks to Ghost he’d never be able to repay him.

A fact that he and Carl were all too aware of.

“Nothing yet?” asked Carl.

“No. Just civilian after civilian.” replied his partner.

“We’ll get him, man.”

Jeff shook his head angrily. “Can you believe Remus wants him alive? After everything he’s done?”

“Didn’t give a reason, just said we need to capture him, too. I don’t freaking know.” Carl said as he mimicked his friend’s action. “I do know one thing, though.”

“What’s that?” Jeff asked, taking the binoculars away from his eyes to look at him.

Carl grinned devilishly. “He said alive, but he didn’t say unharmed.”

“That’s true…” Jeff said, considering his options as he returned his gaze to the road. “Dibs on his kneecaps.”

Once more, they were waiting in a silver Jaguar on the side of the road, watching around for any signs of their quarry. One of the other lieutenants had attempted to assign Carl to gunner duty, only for Jeff to intervene and reassign him to driver duty. Carl couldn’t have been more relieved that his friend had stepped in, since his prowess behind the wheel was matched only by his terrible aim.

“What was Larson thinking, anyway? Me on gunner duty?” Carl said with a shake of his head.

“I think he transferred from a different unit. I haven’t seen him around until just recently.”

“That new unit Remus called in?”

“Yeah. Can’t understand why he called them, though. It’s not like we’re taking very heavy casualties.”

Carl nodded his agreement. “The most damage Ghost did to us was in that chase the other night, and even then we only suffered minimal casualties. Maybe they’re here specifically to help storm the district?”

“Maybe…that would also explain where the new armored cars came from. We had…what…ten before?”

“If that.”

“I guess Remus is just getting impatient. Wouldn’t surprise me after what…heads up.”

Carl leaned forward to peer past his partner, also noticing the black car approaching them at what could hardly be considered the speed limit.

“Start the car.” Jeff ordered, tossing the binoculars in the back and pulling the slide on an SMG.

“Here we go.” the wheelman muttered as he mentally prepared himself for yet another chaotic game of cat-and-mouse.

((((((*******))))))

Here we go… Allen thought as he approached the edge of the district, suddenly much more conscious of the empty passenger seat. The confidence he’d displayed at the garage was gone, replaced by the urge to keep the gas pedal pressed all the way down until the feds were gone. It was one thing talking about taking on an army, but actually doing it and surviving would be a miracle wrapped in a blessing.

He glanced in his rear-view mirror, immediately recognizing the silver Jaguar from almost a week prior, flanked by several other sports cars and at least half a dozen armored SUVs. He made a right, heading north towards the main city, and picked up the radio off of the passenger seat.

“Skeeter! Come in!”

His call was answered in half a second. “Skeeter here.”

“I just left South!” Allen shouted as he heard gunfire behind him. “Looks like I got at least the majority following me! Now would be an outstanding time to leave!”

“Understood. We’re boardin’ now, should be past city limits in twenty. Hopefully.”

“Good! See you th-” A shot suddenly tore through the side of his headrest, making him jump. “Going quiet! See you there!”

He tossed the radio back into the passenger seat and gripped the wheel tightly as slid around another corner.

It’s gonna be a long-ass twenty minutes.

Author's Note

Who is that Remus guy? And why does he want Allen alive?
If you enjoyed this chapter, be sure to hit that like button and follow me for more content. Also be sure to leave a comment with your thoughts, or if you wanna just talk.
Peace. :twilightsmile:

Ch.30-Tumble

Twilight held tightly onto one of the seats as they rode, the rumbling of the massive engine making it difficult to hear anything else. She looked between the twins, Arnold holding his SMG tightly, watching as they ate up the distance between themselves and the edge of the district. Skeeter simply stared ahead, watching for feds as he drove.

Both men wore their respective masks from the rescue mission a few days prior in hopes that concealing their identities would enable them to return to the garage when Twilight went home and things finally settled. Twilight had already pointed out how slim that chance was, and they’d responded by changing the subject. The thought of not being able to return home was too much to deal with right now.

Instead, they sat in a tense silence, scanning the streets for an enemy they knew was waiting for them. They didn’t have to wait long.

“Look left!” Skeeter called, and both passengers immediately complied, noticing the group of four SUVs blocking the road. They were arranged in a makeshift wall, a majority of their occupants patrolling on the other side. It was hard to tell given the distance, but it didn’t appear as though they’d noticed the Outlaster yet.

“Well, we don’t wanna go that way.” Arnold said, eyes staying on the enemy until it left his line of sight.

“It’s not like one area can be easier to get through than another.” Twilight countered. “One way or another, we’re going to encounter feds when we leave.”

“Think magic’s gonna help us here?”

“Maybe if there were fewer soldiers. I can only do so much at once, and we might have a few seconds at best once they spot us.”

Skeeter frowned underneath his ski mask. Even with Allen dragging a chunk of them away, it looked as though the feds still had enough people to form a strong perimeter around the district. The Outlaster was strong enough to plow through any resistance, but heavy armor wouldn’t stop the feds from broadcasting their location; and as Twilight had just pointed out, they would be there to greet the trio no matter which way they tried to leave.

Skeeter passed more blockades, some having five or even six cars. He finally stopped behind the rec center, intent on conserving fuel while they figured out an alternate approach. They couldn’t stay here, but if they tried to leave they would most certainly be spotted. There had to be some way to-

“We could try goin’ west, then loop around back east.” Arnold suggested.

Twilight looked at him, puzzled. “How would that help? Not only would we still be seen, but we’d have a longer way to go.”

“True, but think for a sec.” he said as Skeeter turned around to listen. “So far we’ve seen every avenue blocked off by a squadron of four or more cars, right?”

“Right…” she said with a nod.

“That looks intimidatin’, Ah know…but ya’ll gotta remember that south is a big place. Really big. With a ton of streets that they’d need to guard.”

Skeeter reached under the back of his mask to scratch the back of his head, not immediately understanding where his brother was going with this. Twilight, however, had no such trouble.

“They don’t have enough people.”

“Nope.” Arnold agreed. “You’d probably need a good part o’ the national guard to box someone in here like that. What they musta’ done was send a squad from each o’ the other blockades to reinforce the ones on the east end once Allen rushed ‘em. They musta’ known what we’d be tryin’ soon as he did what he did.”

“How?” Twilight asked, frowning.

Arnold simply shrugged. “Experience?”

Skeeter turned back around and resumed driving, turning west. “So how many ya reckon is in the ones on the west side?” he asked.

“Maybe…three cars? Ten to fifteen guys at each block?” Arnold replied. “We can make it through that, right?”

“Absolutely.” Twilight said confidently as her hands began to glow. “Just make sure you hit one of the cars, Skeeter. I’ll handle the rest.”

((((((*******))))))

Allen swerved as the Jaguar rammed into him again, then replied by flooring the brake pedal and allowing it to collide with his bumper. He returned his foot to the accelerator as the silver car fought to regain control behind him.

“That’s my girl. Sick ‘em.” he said, patting the steering wheel affectionately.

He had been swerving like a madman through the limited traffic of the eastern residential district for the past ten minutes, trying to lose the only cars that seemed to be able to keep up with his. Ten minutes, and already Beauty had taken quite a beating, back window missing once more and an undoubtedly warped rear bumper from the Jaguar’s unrelenting assault.

Still, he found little room to complain. One, the pursuit had taken them far away from the SUVs, and two, the occupants of the other cars still hadn’t managed to get a good look at his empty passenger seat.

“Keep comin’ guys. I can do this all day.” he muttered to the cars in his mirror. So far, two of the pursuing vehicles had bitten the dust, one slamming head-on into a pickup truck, the other into a concrete wall. Now only the Jaguar and three others remained, and while the driver of said Jaguar seemed quite capable, Allen had no problem taking him out personally once the others had crashed.

Financial was only a mile away now. Leading the feds there at this time of day was a risky move. Traffic would be beyond crowded, leaving very little room for error. While his pursuers would almost certainly crash in the mess of commuters and taxis, he was in just as much danger.

Suddenly, one of the SUVs pulled out in front of him, the gunner opening fire.

“COME ON!!” he screamed in frustration as he was forced to turn to avoid the bullets, then laughed as he heard one of the feds spin out behind him, the gunner immediately staying his trigger.

“Nice aim!” he called back to the man in the sunroof. His amusement was short-lived, however, as yet another SUV tried to T-bone his right side. He tapped the break to allow it to fly past, then quickly turned the way it had come as another one rounded the corner and opened fire.

“Come ON!! HOW ARE YOU ALL GETTING AHEAD OF ME!?”

The answer, he realized, was obvious. They’d probably positioned people in back alleys all around the city, ready to give chase or cut him off at a moment’s notice. Just as they had several nights ago, the feds were working together to force him into a less favorable position. They were herding him into other, stronger units and trying to box him in. It was like an old-fashioned fox hunt, and he was the prey.

Behind him, the ever-present Jaguar continued to close in on the Mach 1, the passenger leaning out to fire his SMG at him and forcing him to duck down to avoid the shots.

That Jaguar was becoming a real problem. He suspected it was the same duo from before the Goodman job, and obviously they were taking their defeat quite personally. So far, he’d been spared a majority of their punishment, owing to his car’s better handling and his knowledge of the area. However, the Jaguar was not only much faster than his car, but being handled by a driver who was clearly learning his tricks and doing their best to make sure he couldn’t use them. The “home field” advantage that Allen held over his opponents was useless if he couldn’t get where he needed to in order to make it work.

The Jaguar gunner stopped perforating his car as he reloaded. Allen sat up a little more in his seat and drew his pistol, considering taking advantage of the temporary lapse in machine gunfire to take him out.

Suddenly, yet another armored car rounded the corner just ahead of him, the gunner leveling his LMG at him. He stared at it fearfully, suddenly feeling the SMG target the back of his headrest. Panicking, he dropped the pistol onto his lap, turning the steering wheel as far left as it would go while simultaneously flooring the brake pedal.

His pursuers, unprepared for his maniacal U-turn, swerved to avoid him. A few slammed into each other or into buildings, the rest simply spinning out. He immediately slammed his foot on the accelerator, determined to get as far away as possible before they recovered and came after him again.

I take it back. I can’t do this all day. HURRY UP SKEETER!!

((((((*******))))))

Arnold stared in confusion at the mage a few seats back, wondering what on earth she was doing. He would’ve asked, but she seemed to be in deep concentration, so he left her alone.

She was kneeling down, palms flat on the floor, and appeared to be pouring energy into it. Every so often he’d see the energy pulsate or spark lightly, as if it were alive and getting impatient. Skeeter, too, noticed strange things happening to their getaway vehicle, particularly around the plow on the front, which was glowing a faint pink and sparking angrily.

Finally, Twilight stood up with a tired sigh and dusted her hands off. “Finished.”

“What was that all about?” Arnold asked.

“I condensed a small fraction of my magical energy into the plow. Once it comes into contact with something, it’ll send a violent electric pulse outward, disabling electronics and stunning everyone nearby.”

Skeeter quickly turned around in his seat. “But…we’ll be fine, right?”

“Of course.”

He gave a small sigh of relief. “Good to hear.”

They continued down the street for a few minutes, silence once more dominating the inside of the bus. Twilight and Arnold looked up as heavy metal suddenly started playing from the bus’s speakers, then cut out as Skeeter continued to fiddle with the channel buttons. For a few moments all they could hear was static, then a news broadcast faded into clarity.

“…property damage as this deadly chase continues. Citizens are urged to stay in their homes to avoid any more unnecessary casualties. Police are being dispatched to intervene as we speak, and several blockades have already been set up to halt the assailants and their quarry. It remains unclear who said quarry is or who their pursuers are given the lack of license plates, but what is clear is that both parties are armed. So far, the chaos seems to be staying in the eastern parts of the city, though given the erratic nature of the quarry it is likely that…”

“We need to double-time.” Arnold said plainly.

“Ah’m pushin’ this beast as fast as it’ll go.” Skeeter replied. “We’re almost outta the district.”

Indeed, not thirty seconds later they were treated to the sight of the promised three armored SUVs blocking the road over the next hill. Arnold hurried to the back of the bus, preparing to silence anyone who managed to avoid the blast.

“Hey Twi?” Skeeter called. “Ya’ll better hang on to somethin’.”

Twilight did just that, watching as the soldiers in front of them scrambled out of the way. A thought suddenly occurred to her.

“Skeeter?” The mechanic turned toward her slightly, eyes never leaving the road. “Won’t the soldiers at the other roadblocks hear us when we smash through?”

Skeeter grinned maniacally. “Only one way to find out!”

((((((*******))))))

Jeff suddenly leaned away from the window, hissing as he held the bullet wound in his upper arm.

“Med kit’s behind you.” Carl said absently, his gaze dancing between the Ghost and various hazards on the road.

“Thanks.” he replied as he reached behind his seat and retrieved the white tin box, wincing as he unintentionally stretched the wound. “This is such bullshit.”

“Something’s different.” Carl muttered.

“Huh?”

“He’s fighting differently than he did a few days ago.” Carl elaborated so his partner could hear. “He used to do more ramming than anything else, probably to conserve ammunition. Now-”

“-he’s purposely trying to keep us at a distance.” Jeff finished as he searched for a pair of tweezers, his partner nodding in affirmation. “He can’t be worried about damage to his car, considering what we’ve already done to it.”

“Twice.” the other man agreed. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I’m thinking I want a look at the front seat of that car.” Jeff replied with a nod as he picked up his radio.

((((((*******))))))

Allen’s attention bounced between the road and his handgun as he struggled to reload it. Finally succeeding, he turned around to continue firing at his rivals in the Jaguar, only to glance back and forth in surprise and confusion when he didn’t see it.

He spun back around and ducked as he heard gunfire pepper the hood, straightening up when it stopped and firing two rounds at the shooter. He then retracted the pistol in satisfaction as he watched the man retreat into the relatively safe confines of his car, said car falling back into line with the rest of his pursuers as two more took its place.

Allen chewed his lip anxiously as he shifted gears again, trying to make up for the speed he lost every time he took a corner. The situation was escalating beyond road rage to all-out chaos, and he still hadn’t heard anything from Skeeter.

Have they been caught? he thought worriedly, then immediately shook the thought away. The mechanic had proudly gone into detail about just how unstoppable his “side project” was. If he was to be believed (and Allen saw no reason not to), it would take an act of God to even slow that bus down. Plus, he had faith in their ability to find a way around any potential hiccups.

No, the only one in any danger was him.

And right now, that was just how he wanted it.

The two cars now chasing him were slowly but steadily gaining on him, their gunners leaning out of windows as they tried to get a fix on his head. He turned to aim behind him, wondering if the feds had invested in bulletproof tires for the smaller vehicles after the last time they’d done this.

Then a black and white SUV slammed into the one on the right, red and blue lights flashing menacingly, and all hell broke loose.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?” he screamed. “NOW YOU GET INVOLVED!?”

All around him, LVPD cruisers were emerging from parking lots and side streets and even the driveways of homes. Whereas before the calamity had been contained in the road battle between him and the feds, now the cops were engaging both sides with overwhelming numbers. They rammed into the feds, into him, and even each other on more than one occasion. The chaos soon resembled that of a demolition derby in full swing.

Allen drifted around a corner to the right as he attempted to escape the chaos, instead almost running head-on into a fed SUV. He turned left to avoid it, his eyes going wide as another one T-boned two police cruisers. Everyone was attacking everyone now in this chaotic waltz. Allen felt about ready to puke as he tried to keep track of it all. The feeling was exacerbated as another fed car slammed against his left rear side, purposely forcing him out of the residential area and toward a busy highway. Even through his nausea, he found that odd.

It was almost like they were trying to-

An explosion immediately ended that thought process, and he suddenly found himself fighting for control of the Mach 1. He glanced to his right, and his heart sank as he saw the dreaded double-fishtail of sparks in his rear-view mirror. There was no way he’d survive like this, not with the current chaos. He turned back to the front, looking past the highway just a few blocks away which separated the east from financial.

His heart leapt. He still had a chance.

All he had to do was make it past the highway and he could lose them in an alley, hide the Mach 1, and find a new car.

“C’mon Beauty! Just a little further, sweetheart!” he called out. He could’ve sworn the car jolted forward in response, determined to deliver its master to safety.

A police cruiser suddenly slammed into his right, forcing him into oncoming traffic and nearly making him crash into a light pole.

To his left, a gunner from an overturned fed SUV opened fire, forcing him to duck behind the questionably safe cover of the door until the gunner was out of sight.

He silently marveled at the durability of his car; broken and battered but continuing on, undeterred.

We can make it. he thought confidently as he stared at an appropriate alleyway just through the underside of the highway. We can-

Suddenly, he was distracted by a bright flash from atop the highway. He looked up, raising his pistol to engage whoever was firing at him from above, then felt his jaw drop as he saw a familiar silver sports car parked above him, safe from the carnage beneath it. Shock turned to dread as he noticed the double glare of a pair of binoculars coming from the passenger window as it sat above him, and he suddenly felt painfully conscious of his empty passenger seat.

He leaned over slightly as he passed under the highway, feeling around the floor on the passenger side for his radio. Their cover was blown. It was time to abort to plan B.

Finally managing to find the small black handheld, he raised it up to his face and pressed the button, hastily returning his eyes to the road and scanning around for danger.

The warning died in his throat when he saw the soldier with the RPG.

There was nowhere to turn, nowhere to hide. He felt his heartrate rise as he watched the soldier raise the explosive ordinance in slow-motion, the chrome tip of the missile aimed at the passenger door of the Mach 1.

Sorrow gripped him like a vice as he looked down at the steering wheel of his beloved companion.

“I’m sorry.”

With that, he grabbed the radio and his pistol in one hand and opened the door with the other, holding the fedora to his chest as he jumped and rolled to safety.

Mere meters away, the former queen of the streets of Las Vegas erupted in a glorious fireball, her former beauty now marred by hellfire.

((((((*******))))))

Remus sat in a chair at the front of the trailer, rubbing his temples as he considered everything he knew about Flynt.

He considered, he contemplated, and he reflected.

Then he growled in annoyance as he continued to come up short.

He had Flynt’s method of planning down to an absolute science. He was a rash, protective, paranoid young man who’s lack of trust in the world around him had led him to adopt a “shoot first” fighting style, incapacitating or disabling his opposition before they could make a move against him. Since their last confrontation, he’d learned that Flynt had also begun relying heavily on his friends, their differing areas of expertise more than making up for his various weaknesses. He’d read all about the vigilante phase shared by the three boys in their childhood, and they were without a doubt a formidable team.

It only made sense that they should work together to escape the city.

So when his second-in-command had informed him that Flynt had flown out of the southern district like a bat out of hell…attempting to protect the traveler by himself…he’d been effectively stumped.

Flynt wasn’t stupid, Remus knew that for certain. He undoubtedly knew the risks of facing such numbers and firepower alone, and the disabling of their cell phones was clearly meant to give him some yet-unconsidered advantage. Thus, Remus deduced that the boy’s suicide run was part of something bigger. But what?

Remus was still grumbling to himself when he heard the aforementioned second lieutenant hailing him through the radio next to him. “Lieutenant Jeffrey to Commander Remus! Jeffrey to Remus! Come in!”

Intrigued by the urgency in the man’s voice, Remus snatched up his radio and fumbled with the button. “Remus here. Go ahead.”

“Sir, The anomaly isn’t in the car!” Jeffrey all but shouted over the sound of engines and gunfire.

Remus’ mind went blank. “What?”

“She’s not in the car! The Ghost is a decoy!”

Remus sat there, blankly staring at the other agents for a long moment. Then he hastily flipped through channels until he found the one he was looking for. “All blocks, check in!”

“West one, standing by.”

“West two, standing by.”

Remus listened intently as each group checked in, the same bored monotone informing him that their status had not changed.

“West eleven, standing by.”

“West twelve, standing by.”

...

Remus felt his face contort in anger as he growled into the mic. “West blocks twelve and fourteen, move to assist thirteen.”

“Roger.” was the simultaneous reply.

Remus tossed the radio back on the desk and rubbed his face with his hands. Now they were screwed, well and truly. She could be anywhere in the city by now, and he had no means of determining where or even which direction she’d taken.

The worst part was that it was his own fault, having given the order that had allowed them to escape undetected. He’d been under the assumption that if they did try something like this, Flynt would have had them leave the same way he had, but clearly he’d been mistaken.

He leaned back in the chair, rubbing his face as he tried to think of some way to salvage the situation. There had to be some clue as to where they might’ve gone, something he hadn’t considered.

“Sir, damage report from West thirteen.”

He picked up the radio again. “Report.”

“Looks like something massive smashed through the block. I’d say it was magic, but I don’t think magic would cave an armored door in like this, although it was definitely magic that took down the men stationed here.”

The mechanic’s work, no doubt. he thought to himself. “Twelve and fourteen, continue tending to the injured agents. Everyone else, keep your eyes peeled for a doomsday bugout vehicle of some kind and be ready to mobilize.”

He crossed his arms as he considered this new information. Flynt’s friends were undoubtedly guarding the anomaly while he served as a distraction, and since they obviously couldn’t hope to hide whatever gigantic contraption they were escaping in for long, they had to have a relatively close destination in mind, perhaps a safehouse of some sort.

The other agents in the command center suddenly became aware of frantic typing coming from the corner where he sat, looking over as their commanding officer stared intently at the computer screen before him.

Remus ignored them, his fingers continuing to tap-dance across the keyboard as he bypassed various security measures until he finally found what he was looking for. He scrolled down, searching through the dates and expenses for anything of use. One particular entry caused him to raise an eyebrow in interest.

Glow plugs for a school bus from the seventies? he wondered. That must be what they’re trying to escape in, though I’m sure it looks nothing like a school bus now.

He continued scrolling, noting more school bus-related purchases as well as dozens more that were obviously meant for the finished product. He soon became frustrated, however, when he couldn’t even find those anymore.

Finally, he shut the laptop and leaned back with a sigh. He knew that the twins had a shelter of some kind somewhere, but there was nothing in their bank records to suggest where it might be. He groaned as he realized that he was just as screwed as before. The traveler would be beyond their reach soon, if she hadn’t already-

“Uh…Sergeant Cullen to Commander Remus?”

Once more, Remus picked up his radio and held it close to his face. “Go ahead.” he prompted flatly.

“Sir, some kind of APC just passed by our position. It looks like a heavily-armored…school bus?”

“Which way was it headed!?” he asked, suddenly standing.

“East.”

His heart skipped a beat. There was only one place they could be heading that made any sense.

“You and your block get after them.” he said calmly. “Everyone else triple-time it to the eastern city limits and keep them from reaching the desert.”

Having given the first order, he turned to two nearby agents. “Intercept their next radio transmission.”

((((((*******))))))

Allen ran. He had no idea where he was running, he just knew he couldn’t stop.

He ran through puddles of filth, climbed over walls, and knocked over garbage bins.

Behind him, he could hear the distant shouting of his pursuers as they followed him.

He continued running.

A police car skidded to a halt in front of the exit to the alley he was running down, two officers climbing out and hurrying towards him. Deaf to their orders for him to freeze, he jumped and began climbing a service ladder to his right. One gave his partner a leg up, said partner hurrying up the ladder after the man in the coat. He drew his pistol as he neared the top, ready to shoot the runner before he could get any further, then cried out in surprise as the heel of a boot met his face and sent him bouncing back down through the ladder cage.

Allen ran across the roof of whatever building he was on, then jumped across the narrow gap at the end of the building and caught a windowsill on the next one, proceeding to drop to the one below that and continuing until he stumbled onto the concrete ground of the alley below. He then continued running.

An outlet mall loomed above him as he exited the alleyway, obviously packed if the crowd at the front was any indication. He lowered his scarf and ran that way, not slowing down until he made it inside and merged with the crowd of oblivious shoppers. He exited as quickly as he’d come, disappearing through a door marked “staff only.”

He leaned against the wall as he took the radio off of his belt and pressed the button, still breathing heavily. “Skeeter! Come in!”

The mechanic picked up almost instantly. “Al? Ya’ll okay?”

“No, I’m not. I’ll explain later.” he replied breathlessly. “Listen, plan A is a bust. Shit hit the fan and someone saw into my passenger side.”

The door to the room suddenly opened and he tensed, expecting either feds or cops. Instead, a freckly teenager strolled in, bobbing her head to the music blaring out of her headphones. Noticing him, she lowered the headset to tell him off for trespassing, only to go pale as his knife suddenly appeared under her chin.

“Sit down, shut up.” he hissed.

“Sitting down, shutting up!” she squeaked as she complied.

Allen turned back to the radio, knife still in hand. “Just abort to plan B. They’re probably moving to cut you off now.”

“Ah don’t think so. We’re almost there now, ‘n Ah don’t see-HOLY SHIT!!”

“Skeeter!?” Allen called, suddenly hearing the distant sound of bullets bouncing off of armor plating, as well as Arnold's muffled shouting. “Skeeter!”

“Yeah, ya’ll wasn’t kiddin’! They definitely know!” Skeeter yelled back. “Well, there goes our lil’ secret!”

“Just take out anyone following you and stick to the plan! I’ll rendezvous with you as soon as-”

Static suddenly blared from the radio, making him cringe as he held it at arm’s length to spare his hearing, then disappeared as quickly as it had come. His ears still ringing, he cautiously brought it back to talking distance. “Skeeter!?” he called experimentally.

“Hello Flynt.”

Allen froze.

The voice on the other end said nothing more, yet it still resonated in his ears, bringing all other thoughts to a screeching halt.

It’s not possible…he thought quietly.

Memories of events long past immediately began replaying themselves in his mind’s eye: his family, torn apart and bloody; the call he’d gotten in the hospital; the mile-long bloody streak he’d left on the streets of Vegas afterwards…this voice brought all of this back and more.

A thousand questions ran through his mind.

He decided to ask the one that mattered.

“Frost!?"

Author's Note

Sure it probably took too long, but I feel good about this one. :ajsmug:
Be sure to leave a like if you enjoyed, follow me for more content, and leave a comment with your thoughts.
Peace. :twilightsmile:

Ch.31-Avalanche

Past

Allen glared at Frost, revolver still in hand.

Frost stared at Allen, eyes wide.

A bullet hole in the desk smoked lightly next to his ear.

Allen suddenly turned and threw the revolver at the vanity, watching the dozens of reflective glass shards crash to the floor. He prayed for a moment that the thing he’d seen in the mirror had died with it, his heart sinking as said thing reappeared and began laughing at his stupidity. The laughter grew more intense, its owner nonexistent yet all too real to him.

Frost appeared out of nowhere and joined the shadow in its maniacal laughter, his wounds nonexistent. Their combined laughter slowly grew in volume until he was holding his ears in a vain attempt to restore silence. It continued to grow until he felt his mind would break in two, and he silently begged for them to leave him alone.

“…stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it…” he mumbled.

His double approached him instead, Frost somehow laughing loud enough for the both of them. It knelt down and placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to shudder violently at its ice-cold touch.

“I didn’t start this, pal.” it said. “You did.”

It was right. He hadn’t been forced to answer that phone, or accept Admin’s offer. He hadn’t been forced to do what he did to all those people. He hadn’t been forced to become what he had. He’d done it all willingly.

He felt his memory being forced back to the edge of Hoover dam and the distant wet smack that accompanied the memory. Back to the factory where he’d incinerated Vince and Maya after shooting them both. Back to the hydraulic press “accident”, the man’s pained screams just before his grotesque demise clear as day in his ears.

Back to his house, immediately after the hit.

Logan cowered in a corner, arms over his face in an effort to protect himself from the madman that was his older brother. Allen tried to approach him, only for the boy to scream out in terror.

He backed up slowly, then began running downstairs. He reached the bottom and looked around, noticing his stepdad still against the wall. The older man glared at him with his one good eye, Allen once more feeling as though the man was staring into his soul. His mother bawled her eyes out by the counter, her entire body covered in blood.

“Please…just leave me alone.” Allen begged quietly. The guilt he felt was building to almost toxic levels, threatening to overwhelm and mutate his mind into something even more painful.

“Alone? I don’t think so.” his father replied with a demonic chuckle. “No…you and me? We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, buddy.”

“…no, no, no, no, no…” he whimpered, tears beginning to flow down his cheeks.

“Shhhhhhh…just relax…” it cooed as he felt an icy chill crawl out of his chest, up his neck, and settle on the top of his head. “By the time I’m done, you won’t even remember any of this.”

The icy sensation on his head began to grow, slowly but steadily reaching deeper. It grew to the point where it burned like fire, melting away any resistance it encountered as it greedily began to devour his mind. The initial discomfort he’d felt was replaced by fear as he saw reality slipping away from him, the room he was in losing saturation and focus in equal amounts.

“Just relax. It’s almost over.” he heard from a distance.

Was he dying? Or was he going mad? Was there a difference? Did it matter?

These questions and more occupied the shrinking portion of consciousness still left to him, until fear and curiosity gave way to resignation and apathy.

“Good…that’s good…just re-”

“FLYNT!”

Allen bolted upright and scanned his surroundings in a panic, noticing that he’d somehow wound up in a sitting position by the foot of a door. Confused, he wondered for a moment where he was and why he was there, the previous nine months coming back to him as a mere trickle of memories. His eyes narrowed as he recognized his quarry slumped against the desk, still alive.

Before he could say anything, Frost cut him off. “Flynt, do you remember me?”

He raised an eyebrow, then scowled angrily at the other man. “Of course I do. You’re the asshole that killed my family.”

Frost simply nodded, as if that had been the answer he was expecting. Allen’s scowl deepened at the other man’s calm demeanor. No one with two knives buried in their torso should be that calm.

Actually, shouldn’t he be dead by now? he thought in confusion, noting that the red stain on the man’s dress shirt hadn’t grown any larger since he’d regained consciousness.

“Flynt, you need to listen to me. We don’t have a lot of time.” Frost said as he attempted to straighten up against the desk, stopping as he heard the revolver’s hammer click.

“I’m listening.” Allen said calmly.

The other man stared down the gun barrel for half a second, then sighed dismissively. “You don’t know it yet, but you’re in danger. I’m not sure if they’ve noticed yet…or if they’ve even thought to look for you…”

“Who?”

“Don’t interrupt.” he said sternly. “If…no…when they find out you’re still alive, they’ll come looking for you. There’ll be no place you can run or hide that they can’t reach, and eventually they’ll catch up to you.”

“Who? And what’s this got to with anything?” Allen growled.

“Everything! The reason we’re here is because they came after you!” Frost replied vehemently. “We thought they’d killed you, and we all scattered to different realms to make ourselves harder to find. We were all afraid they would come after us, and confused when they didn’t. Now I know why. They weren’t after us, just you.”

“Cut the mind games and get to the fucking point!” Allen yelled.

Frost sighed in exasperation. “You’ve played chess, right?”

Allen rolled his eyes, tempted to shoot the rambling lunatic and be done with it. Instead, he lowered the revolver and crossed his arms. “Yeah, a few times.”

“We’re all pieces in this game. Powerful pieces, mind you, but still only pieces to be collected by them to increase their power. You, however, are something else entirely. You-”

Distant shouting met their ears, Allen cautiously leaning out of the doorway to check the halls.

“They heard the shots.” Frost remarked dryly.

“No shit, Sherlock.” he replied with equal dryness.

“Listen to me.” the man said, straightening up against the desk. “You need to prepare. They’ll come for you soon, I know it. We need to be ready to fight them when they do.”

“Sorry…we?” Allen repeated as he aimed the gun once more, his opponent freezing once more. “You say that like you’re going to live that long.”

“I thought we were past this.”

“You would think that.” he said, taking a step toward Frost.

The older man opened his mouth to respond, but Allen shot him in the forehead first.

Huh. Well, shit. What did you need me for, am I right?

Allen froze, still staring at the slumped-over corpse of his nemesis.

Yeah, I’m still here. Now, though…I’m just kinda watching. It really is quite interesting to watch how far you’ve come from being the hilarious little street punk you were a year ago.

Who are you? he asked the voice.

I’m…your conscious.

Leave me alone.

Buddy, you just killed close to thirty people in the past few weeks alone. You can’t make me keep quiet about this.

SHUT UP! he thought as he ran out the door, away from the truth and away from the dead man on the floor by the desk.

((((((*******))))))

Present

“I SHOT YOU IN THE FACE POINT-BLANK!! HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE!?” Allen raged.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Frost replied calmly. “And before you ask how I was put in charge of the CIA, let’s chalk it up to bottomless pockets and sharing a likeness with the real Remus.”

Allen couldn’t even think properly. He’d shot him directly in the forehead from perhaps five feet away. Blood and brain matter had exploded from the front and back of his head. He had died instantly.

Supposedly.

“I…I can’t even…what the actual fuck!?”

“Take your time. I know it’s a lot to process.”

He thought for a second, then did the exact opposite and half-flew out of the windowless break room, leaving a very frightened and confused cashier wondering what mental defect he had.

“You’re isolating my signal, aren’t you!?”

“Maybe. You know, one way or another I’m catching both of you. If you make things easier on me, I’ll make them easier on you.”

“Oh, really?” he replied sarcastically as he pushed his way through the crowded mall.

“Give up now and no harm will come to your friends.”

“Bullshit.” Allen spat before turning off his radio, hopefully eliminating the man’s ability to track him.

He caught sight of the back entrance and began shoving and side-stepping his way towards it. He was only a few meters away when he noticed the two SUVs waiting for him outside. He turned back, considering leaving through the receiving area, and caught sight of the tops of perhaps a dozen shiny gray helmets.

How they’d escaped the chaos outside was beyond him, but the fact remained that the feds had him surrounded. He could hide in a nearby store, but more than likely that was what they’d expect from him and he really didn’t have that kind of time. Instead he drew his revolver.

“EVERYBODY OUT!!” he yelled as he squeezed a round off toward the ceiling.

The effect was instantaneous. Everybody in the mall ran screaming, trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the crazed gunman, pushing past or against the soldiers searching for him. Said soldiers scanned the crowd for any trace of their quarry, as did the SUV squads outside. Once the crowd thinned, they moved into the stores, searching behind counters and inside restrooms.

Allen, meanwhile ran away from the mall with the rest of the crowd, not stopping until he was sure they wouldn’t notice him.

That should keep the cops busy, at least. he thought as he put his hat back on, having removed it so that he the soldiers wouldn’t recognize him. He slowed to a jog, looking up and down the street for a way to flee the scene.

A motorcyclist rounded the corner to his right and he quickly covered his face and ran in front of her, waving his arms. Sure enough, she slammed on the brakes, turning slightly to avoid flipping the bike as it skidded to a halt. She spread her arms out in a gesture that clearly asked what his problem was, then screamed in surprise as he shoved her off and got on.

“Sorry!” he called back to her before turning the accelerator as far as it would go, pressing his hat securely on his head to make sure he wouldn’t lose it.

((((((*******))))))

“Last turn!” Skeeter notified his friends.

Twilight once more used her magic to keep the bus from rolling over as it flew full-speed around the corner, the feds in hot pursuit.

“Alright!” the mechanic called as the bus leveled out once more. “Now we got no reason to slow down!”

“Then floor it!” Arnold yelled from the back door. “They’re startin’ to get impatient! Twi, Ah could use a hand!”

While Twilight went to help his brother, Skeeter did his best to avoid killing pedestrians with the flying pile of scrap metal. Luckily, he’d thought to install train horns in place of the regular ones, so said pedestrians heard him coming long before they saw him.

The problem was that he’d neglected to install boarding spikes on the Outlaster, and the starchy bastards pursuing them were trying to climb onto the roof.

Skeeter picked up his solution and aimed it behind him, sending one of the aforementioned bastards flying off onto the road in a shower of blood.

“Key word: tryin’.” he muttered as he swung the shotgun down and up to reload it, electing to stick to the right side of the road so that any potential boarders would be forced to approach from the left. “Hey Arnie? Would ya’ll kindly get rid o’ them fuckers before they board us!?”

“I’m tryin’! It ain’t easy, ya know!” Arnold shot back, then swore loudly as his SMG clicked empty. “Ah’m out!”

Twilight looked away from the shield she was maintaining to glance at him, then turned back around and eyed one of the bigger guns carried by the SUV gunners. “Do you want some of those instead? Or do you want another SMG?”

“Whatever Ah can get, honey.” replied the marine as he hid behind the armor plating on the back, then jumped in surprise as several SMGs, LMGs, and combat shotguns streamed in through the door and organized themselves by his feet. He stared at them for a few seconds, then grabbed one of the LMGs and pointed it out the door. “Much obliged.”

“You’re welcome.” she replied.

Twilight, unsurprisingly, hadn’t personally been engaging their pursuers even though she held a clear advantage. With the speed they were moving at and how chaotic the situation outside of the bus was, she was worried that anything she did might actually kill someone. Killing their enemies might be all well and good for her new friends, but she didn’t know how she’d forgive herself.

So as one of said friends fired out of the back door, she simply focused on keeping him from getting shot.

Skeeter swung his gun around the lever and pulled it back into the cabin, having just sent a car full of potential boarders spinning away. He squinted, then grinned as he was just able to make out the green road sign that marked the beginning of the highway out of the city. Once they reached it, the feds would only be able to come at them two or three cars at a time.

Suddenly, his radio crackled to life again. “Skeeter, come in!”

He immediately picked it up and pressed the button. “Jesus Christ man! The thing went dead silent and Ah thought ya’ll bit a bullet!”

“I’m fine. I’m headed for the highway. Are you almost there?”

“Yeah, Ah can see it now actually.”

“Fantastic. I’ll meet you there.”

“Over n’ out.” Skeeter said as he clipped it to the dashboard, then turned slightly to address his friends. “Hey guys!”

Twilight looked at him from her position next to the emergency door. “What happened?”

“Al called back! Said he’s fine n’ he’s on his way!”

“Cool! Let’s give ‘im some breathin’ room!” Arnold hollered back.

“Can do!” replied the mechanic as he rammed an SUV approaching his left.

((((((*******))))))

Allen was not having a good day.

It had started out quite pleasant. He’d enjoyed a late breakfast with Twilight during which they’d had time to simply sit and talk for the first time in days, Skeeter had fixed his car and gone with him on the test drive, and Twilight had finally gotten to see her family again, which had also resulted in Skeeter’s subsequent (though admittedly shaky) oath of sobriety. It was going to be a good day.

Then he’d gotten a phone call from a former federal agent and everything had rolled downhill from there.

Now he found himself separated from his friends, being chased by the feds who were apparently under the command of a man he’d killed three years ago, committing acts of terrorism in the name of survival, and trying to reach a rendezvous on a jerky sports motorcycle because his precious Mach 1 had been blown to hell.

Needless to say, his patience was quite strained.

And the city traffic wasn’t helping.

“GET THE FUCK OUTTA THE WAY, ASSHOLE!!” he raged as an ancient Cadillac driven by an elderly man pulled out in front of him and stopped, forcing him to swerve around it as he continued to run from the feds. He’d flown straight past one of their patrol cars and had only avoided being turned into a fine Switzerland delicacy by the speed of the bike. Like moths to flame, they had all converged on his location and were trying to run him off the road.

He took comfort in the fact that they weren’t shooting at him anymore. For whatever reason, they’d been oddly tame in regards to gunfire. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but that was probably the one thing he didn’t have a problem with.

He reached the straightaway in a matter of minutes and opened the throttle as far as it would go. He’d be able to reach them in about five minutes, provided he didn’t crash first. Luckily, the midday rush seemed to be over and there weren’t that many cars on the road now. While this made life easier for the feds behind him, he was confident that they would never catch him on his smaller, faster set of wheels.

The wind roared past him, whipping the scarf around behind him and drowning out all noise except for the occasional startled car horn. He kept his hand pressed firmly on his hat for fear of losing it. Occasionally, he’d jerk the handlebars left or right to dodge a car changing lanes, but kept a straight path for the most part to maximize his speed.

That is, until the Jaguar came out of nowhere and stopped in front of him.

“COME THE FUCK ON!!” he yelled through gritted teeth as he tightly squeezed the brake handle, nearly being bucked out of the seat as he did so. He opened the throttle again, yelping as two SMG rounds found their way into his shoulder, and sped off to the left with the silver car hot on his tail once more. Clearly, the agents inside weren’t playing by the same rules as their comrades.

Allen made a right, sped to the end of the road, then turned right again just in time to see the Outlaster steam past up ahead. He turned to follow it, then stopped short as about two dozen black SUVs and assorted other vehicles flew after it. He glanced behind him, hoping the Jaguar wasn’t about to run him over. Not seeing it anywhere behind him, he extracted his silenced pistol and loaded his last clip into it, staring after the feds pursuing his friends.

((((((*******))))))

Arnold swore again as the clip in the last LMG ran dry, forcing him to switch to a less-powerful SMG. “Might need more guns soon.” he said to Twilight.

“That might be a problem.” she replied worriedly.

“Why?”

“Because I have to drop the shield to do that, and I’m seeing a lot of strange-looking new guns that I don’t want us to be hit by.”

Arnold looked past the front line of cars and grudgingly noted that the feds had RPGs trained on the back end of their getaway vehicle. Whether they were waiting for her to drop the shield, or simply ensuring that she didn’t take any more of their weapons, the crew of the Outlaster were facing a future with no ammunition.

“Skeets, save yer shots n’ just ram ‘em!” he called to the front. “We’re runnin’ low on bullets, and Ah can’t afford to leave the back fer our stash!”

“Want mah shotty!?” Skeeter asked, the gunfire and engine noise making it difficult to hear him.

“Would ya be so kind!?” he replied, catching the lever-action as it clattered down the aisle and setting it aside as his last resort.

Hurry up Al, we need the extra hands here. he thought anxiously, scanning the scene beyond the pink barrier for any trace of his friend. Seeing none, he raised the iron sights to eye level and aimed at a blue Dodge in the front, then straightened up and stared farther back as another car spun out. He waited for a second, then grinned as another one did the same. Speak of the devil.

“Is that our guy!?” Skeeter asked, also noticing what was happening.

“Yeah, he’s pickin’ em’ off from the back!” he replied, squinting as he tried to make out the distant figure with the silenced pistol. “Hey…he’s on a bike!”

“Huh!?”

“He’s on a motorcycle!”

“What the hell!? Why!?”

“How should Ah know!?” Arnold shook his head at the dumb question as he sent a few feds off the road to clear a path home for Allen.

He watched the ex-fixer swerve through the enemy’s ranks, sending any not blessed with bulletproof tires and windows spinning out behind him as he made his way towards them. The feds began targeting him, and Arnold targeted them in return, maiming or killing anyone who so much as pointed a gun in his general direction.

Allen approached them, holstering his gun and slowly rising into a standing position on the seat as he prepared to make the jump to them. Arnold scooted out of the way, continuing to cover him as best as he could while Twilight lowered her shield to let him in. The motorcycle wobbled slightly as its center of gravity shifted with its rider, Arnold’s gaze switching to it in alarm.

It was a mistake which nearly killed Allen.

The silver car approached them and opened fire, the front wheel of the motorcycle exploding in a mess of gas and rubber. The bike’s wobbling intensified, until it abruptly hit a pothole and sent its rider flying over the front with a terrified yell.

Twilight’s hand immediately shot forward, her pink aura catching him mere inches from the racing pavement below as the bike tumbled end over end away from them. Arnold angrily emptied his clip at the offending Jaguar, forcing it to retreat as she slowly floated the black-clad sniper in through the back door, pale and breathing heavily but mostly unharmed.

Arnold reloaded as three more cars took the place of the silver one. He needn’t have bothered, though, as they all suddenly rose into the air and slammed into one armored SUV apiece.

“That should keep them away. For a few seconds, at least.” Twilight growled, having temporarily forgotten her fear of getting involved in her anger at Allen’s near-death experience.

Arnold nodded and turned to Allen, who suddenly pushed past him and leaned out the back to throw up. He stood back up and wiped the bile from his lips, then looked up as he felt the marine’s hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll live.” he said breathlessly, turning around to talk to Skeeter. He suddenly had the air knocked out of him as Twilight threw her arms around him in a rib-crushing bear hug. Arnold looked on in surprise at the pained smile on his face as he returned the embrace, then shook his head and gave his friend an affectionate punch to his good shoulder.

“Thank you.” Twilight said with a smile, letting go.

“What are friends for?” he replied with a tired smile, which was quickly replaced by a look of resignation.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned. Then it clicked. “Where’s the Mach 1?” she asked slowly.

Allen didn’t answer, instead bending down to retrieve a combat shotgun and walking to the front of the bus, where he received a friendly greeting from Skeeter.

“Aw, hell.” Arnold swore quietly.

“How do you think he’s going to react?” she asked the soldier next to her, her anxiety clear in her voice.

“Ya’ll know what the five stages o’ depression are, right?” Arnold replied calmly.

“Of course.”

“THEY DID WHAT NOW!!?”

They both turned to see a beyond-pissed mechanic running down the aisle towards the back with the shotgun, Allen now at the wheel.

“Generally, he skips to stage two when somethin’ like this happens.”

“Uh-huh…” she replied.

“AH’M GONNA FEED YA’LL BITCHES SO MUCH BUCKSHOT, YOU’LL BE PISSIN’ LEAD FER A MONTH!!!”

((((((*******))))))

Carl grit his teeth as he tried to ignore the pain radiating from various bullet wounds in his upper body, concentrating instead on the iron juggernaut that continued to repel them. They couldn’t reach the sides without being rammed off the road, and the anomaly and gunner were tearing into his comrades and slowly forcing all of them out of the chase. And now, with Ghost rejoining them, they’d be able to expect enemy sniper fire in the near future.

“We can’t just keep rushing them!” he said to his partner, who was faring slightly better. “We need a new plan!”

“I know, I’m thinking!” Jeff replied, obviously frustrated. If they could get an agent on board, said agent could take a hostage and force the bus to stop. After losing close to a dozen men and watching several squads tumble away, however, he was scared to send anyone else at it. Disabling the craft was also out of the question, since he didn’t want to risk the explosives being hurled back at them.

“Shit!” Carl swore as he slowed down to hide behind one of their armored units, responding to a sudden barrage of shotgun pellets.

Couldn’t go near the sides…

Anyone approaching the back got shot…

“Got it.” he said shortly before picking the radio up off the floor, wincing as the motion aggravated one of many bullet wounds. “Lieutenant Jeffrey to East nine. Come in East nine.”

There was a moment’s delay as the requested squad leader located their radio. “East nine standing by.”

“You guys are driving one of the armors, right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Tell the gunners to get back inside and roll up all the windows, then make your way to the front. On my signal, ram into the back of their transport and hold steady so I can use you to get on top.”

Carl glanced sidelong at his companion before returning his eyes to the road. “You’re out of your damn mind.”

The sergeant seemed to agree. “Sir, with all due respect, shouldn’t you send someone more expendable?”

Jeff growled slightly at her word choice. It was one thing to be willing to sacrifice oneself for the good of the mission, but to label oneself as something easily discarded and replaced didn’t sit well with him. “No. We’ve lost too many…expendable…people already. I’m handling this myself.”

“Understood, sir. Moving into position now.”

“Good.”

“And…good luck, Jeff.”

Jeff paused for a moment, not expecting anything more than the previous callout, much less the use of his name in place of his rank.

Nonetheless, he smiled at the sentiment. “You too. All of you.”

He then dropped the radio and grabbed the med-kit once more, patching himself up in preparation for the stunt he was about to pull. Carl stared longingly at the bandages in the little plastic box, Jeff sighing apologetically as he closed it.

“With any luck, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” he said.

“You better be, or I’ll come in there and do it myself.”

The SUV reached the front line and held steady. Jeff picked up the radio once more and clipped it to his belt, then climbed out the window and onto the roof while doing his best to remain in the cover of the SUV next to them. He grabbed the radio once more and raised it to his mouth so as to be heard over the wind. “East nine, ram them!”

“Roger!” replied the sergeant, the SUV suddenly rushing toward the metal behemoth they were chasing, ignoring the abuse it received from the shotgunner as it slammed into it.

Jeff slapped the driver-side window twice, then held on for dear life as his partner swerved out of cover and rushed toward the other SUV. He waited, picking his moment, then sprang from the roof onto the SUV, barely avoiding a blast from the shotgunner as he jumped and climbed onto the roof of the bus.

He ran along the top towards the foremost emergency hatch, deciding he’d take the driver as his hostage. He’d need to hurry, though, since they’d seen him climb onto the roof. If he wasn’t quick, they might be waiting for him when he-

He pulled the hatch open, then immediately reeled back from a sharp jab to the face. He regained his balance in time to keep from falling onto the flying pavement below, the mobile platform he stood on making it slightly difficult to do so, then looked back towards the front of the bus to face his enemy.

He frowned slightly.

Arnold grinned as he kicked the hatch shut.

“Ah heard a theory once that covert types like ya’ll don’t fight as well in broad daylight. Like vampires ‘r somethin’.” he said, cracking his knuckles as he widened his stance. “Wanna test it?”

Author's Note

Next chapter might take a bit longer to do, as I'm trying to get my license so I can get this job I want. I will, however, be posting a picture of Skeeter first.
If you're enjoying the story, be sure to give me a little thumbs-up. Also be sure to leave a comment below with your thoughts.
And, of course, have a nice day. :twilightsmile:

Ch.32-Swept Away

BOOM

The SUV swerved as its windshield nearly caved in, accidentally slamming into one of its smaller cousins and sending it into the concrete barrier.

BOOM

A gunner in one of the patrol cars slumped over the door, his comrade quickly pulling him back into the relative safety of the car.

BOOM

Skeeter growled at the army of government-financed snakes that continued to assault his mobile fortress.

BOOM

Twilight took another tiny step back from her psychotic shotgun-toting friend, half-pitying the feds as they were forced down the narrow highway.

CLICK

“Shit.” the mechanic spat as he tossed his last gun off to the side. Twilight quietly sighed in relief as it joined its brothers, who had either run out of ammunition or…in the case of two shotguns…stopped working for unknown reasons.

“Hey Twi? Dumb question, but can ya’ll make weapons outta magic?”

She turned back to the aforementioned friend with a flat look, choosing to give him an equally flat response.

“No.”

“Alright, alright, jus’ askin’.” he replied, walking back to the front. “No need to git yer panties in a bunch.”

“My…what?”

He stopped mid-step and looked back at her, his new expression unreadable.

“‘Nother dumb question…do horses wear clothes where you come from?”

“Ponies…” she corrected. “…and not usually, no.”

“Not…usually? Like, what do you wear?”

“Dresses or suits, mostly on formal occasions.”

Skeeter snorted loudly as resumed his journey to the front, staggering slightly on the unstable floor.

“What’s so funny about that?” Twilight asked, confused and just a little irritated.

“Nothin’, nothin’…” he called back to her as he reached the front and raised a hand to tap the driver on the shoulder. Noticing the bloodied makeshift bandage on said shoulder, he lowered the hand and cleared his throat instead. “Ya’ll, uh…want me to take a look at that?”

The shorter man glanced briefly over at him before turning in the seat. “No, just…please take this beast back.”

“Too much for ya?” Skeeter asked as he took the wheel back.

“Way too much. At least I don’t have to worry about hitting people. The Outlaster’s been scaring them off, I think. ”

“Or maybe the feds’ve closed the freeway.”

“Maybe.” Allen replied as he straightened his jacket. He looked around for a moment until his eyes settled on his rifle case resting three seats back, and he hurried to undo the clasps. “So what was that about in the back?”

“Ponies wearing dresses.” the mechanic replied with a chuckle.

An eye-roll was his only reply. “Keep that kind of nonsense to yourself, will you? At least until we lose these clowns.”

“Yeah, yeah…hey, ya seen where Arnie went?”

He lifted the weapon up, preparing to secure its silencer, then stopped. After a moment’s thought, he tossed the metal cylinder back in the case and began adjusting the scope. “He’s on the roof.” he said finally.

“Thought so.” Skeeter replied.

Allen raised an eyebrow at his casual tone. “You’re not worried at all?”

“Yer kiddin’, right? Ah feel kinda sorry for whichever poor bastard got stuck up there with ‘im.” Skeeter replied with a grin, right before adopting an all-business expression. “So what now? Ya know we can’t bring these guys to Alamo.”

Once again, Allen found himself pushing away the dread that name tried to bring him. “I’m going to try to make a pileup. Should be easy now that we’re on the highway.”

“Might wanna hurry. It widens up ahead.”

“Got it.”

((((((*******))))))

The boarder swung wildly at his left side. He blocked it, then attempted to jab the smaller man in the gut, only to step back as his opponent spun away from the block and made to drive an elbow into his ribs.

Arnold, frustrated with how much ground he was being forced to give, changed tactics and charged at the agent, catching the lighter man by surprise as he hefted him onto his shoulder and turned to throw him off. The agent quickly elbowed his neck, forcing him to let go with a pained grunt.

As he recovered from his brief disorientation, he watched the other man slowly get back to his feet, an action made difficult by the unsteady nature of their arena.

“What’s wrong there, slick? No sea legs?” he taunted.

“Cram it you fucking hick.”

“Racist.”

A rifle sounded, and both men instinctively ducked. Arnold looked behind the bus, eyebrow raising as he saw sparks from a second shot fly off of a grill, the SUV it belonged to losing speed as it smoked violently.

What the hell’r ya doin’ man?

His opponent also watched the armored vehicle disappear behind its cousins, then turned back to him with a scowl. “Get out of my way.” he growled.

“Get off mah ride.” Arnold growled back.

The agent swung again instead, arm meeting the marine’s own, then brought a knee into his gut. He hunched over, the wind driven from his lungs, then hit the roof as he received an elbow to the back.

He lay there groaning for a moment as his opponent walked past, then quietly got back to his feet and snuck up behind. His grin widened as he raised a finger to tap him on the shoulder, fist raised off to the side.

“Jarhead lunatic.” the agent muttered.

Arnold frowned, instead grabbing the man around the midsection. He yelled in surprise as he was suddenly lifted up and over, landing hard on his back. He sat up and groaned, first from pain then from the realization that he was back where he started.

“Look buddy, ya’ll better cut the smack talk, ‘cause Ah really don’t appreciate it.”

((((((*******))))))

“Stay focused. Stay awake, stay focused. You fall asleep, you won’t wake up, and Jeff’s gonna need an escape route if things get too dicey.”

Carl gritted his teeth, his yet-untreated wounds still throbbing painfully and blood loss beginning to cloud his vision. A hundred meters away, his partner continued his main card fight with the burly marine, the latter clearly holding the advantage. In most cases, Jeff’s speed would have given him the fight. Said speed was useless in such an enclosed area, made more enclosed as his opponent continued to close the distance between them.

His comrades had, of course, attempted to end the fight for him. Unfortunately, not only was the distance too great to get a clear shot without possibly hitting him, but Ghost and the anomaly had made it abundantly clear what they would do to anyone who directly attacked their allies.

So Carl continued to drive, concentrating as hard as he could on the fight atop the modified school bus and not on his slowly-weakening body.

((((((*******))))))

“Dammit!” Allen swore loudly as his round got stuck in the van’s grill.

To his dismay, the feds had learned from what had happened on the interstate, and taken lengths to ensure that it didn’t happen again. Said lengths happened to be armored bumpers at the front which protected their wheels and axels, and Allen’s vision of a chase-ending pileup was quickly disintegrating. All he could do was keep them at a reasonable distance so they couldn’t target his friend on the roof.

“Still not getting through?” Twilight asked to his right.

“No, but right now it’s either this or kill them.”

“Let’s stick with this.”

“Yes, let’s.”

“Al!” Skeeter called. “We’re widening out!”

“Roger! Fuck…” he muttered in his frustration. As if keeping them at bay wasn’t hard enough…

He perked up as a thought occurred to him. “Hey.”

Twilight looked down at him. “Hm?”

“Could you use your telekinesis to fuck up their rides?”

“I’d need know exactly what to mess around with. Otherwise, I’d just be fumbling around in the dark.”

“Do you think you’d at least be able to remove those new bumpers?”

“From this distance? If only I were that good…”

“Fuck.” he repeated, taking a shot at one SUV off to the right and…to his pleasant surprise…decommissioning it instantly.

He slid the bolt back, watching the empty shell shoot out and fall to the floor, then looked up and raised an eyebrow.

“What are they…are they retreating?” Twilight asked, also noticing their enemy’s strange behavior.

Allen didn’t answer right away, instead watching as the patrol cars fell back behind the armored vans, then as the entire front line fell back an extra hundred meters.

“No…hold on.” he finally said. taking his radio off of his belt. “Come up here for a sec.”

“What about…?” she began, looking back at their adversaries.

“They’re not going to bother us.” he replied with confidence.

Twilight stared after him uncertainly, but followed regardless.

“What’s goin’ on?” Skeeter asked as they arrived at the front.

“Someone’s trying to call me.” Allen said as he turned the radio back on. “What do you want, Frost?”

Both Skeeter and Twilight turned sharply toward him at the mention of his presumed-to-be-dead nemesis.

“I thought I made that perfectly clear the last time we spoke.” the liquid voice on the other end replied.

((((((*******))))))

Jeff ducked under the marine’s hook, then stepped back to avoid the kick that followed. He then responded with a kick of his own, making the man bend over holding his gut, and followed up with an uppercut…only for the marine to catch said uppercut, twist his arm behind his back, and shove him farther towards the back of the bus.

He was faster than the marine, but the marine had strength born of several years’ worth of service overseas. He was not only tanking everything he had to throw at him, but returning it to him with equal if not greater force. With very little room to maneuver and the marine giving him little time to recover each time he pushed him back, Jeff found himself quickly losing ground.

Of course, if I’d been quicker on the draw when I still had a gun…

“Gittin’ tired, kiddo?” his opponent jeered.

“I’m definitely getting tired of something.” he hissed.

“Me too. Ah’m gittin’ tired o’ starchies comin’ after my family and house guest.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry sir.” Jeff replied with the sweetest venom he could manage. “Tell you what: I’ll leave you alone if you bring Captain Simmons and all the rest of my men that you’ve killed back from the dead and HAND OVER THE GOD DAMN ANOMALY!!”

“Look man, just-wait…what? What about Simmons?”

“You. Killed. Simmons.”

“Ah didn’t kill ‘im! What the hell ya’ll accusing’ me for!?”

“Not you! GHOST!”

“Al-Ghost didn’t kill ‘im either!”

“Oh, bullshit.”

“No shit! Why would he!? Simmons is the reason we was able to rescue Twilight a few days ago!”

Jeff was silent for several seconds as he ran that sentence through his mind a few times. In the end he couldn’t reply with anything other than “What?”

((((((*******))))))

“Pardon us one second.” Skeeter politely told Frost, having snatched the radio from Allen not a second prior.

“How!? HOW!?” Twilight loudly asked the heavens as she paced up and down the aisle. “THIS MAKES NO SENSE!!”

“Al, Ah read the paper the day after it happened. Two knives in his chest and bullet to the brain. Ya’ll didn’t just kill ‘im…ya’ll executed ‘im.”

“How!?” Twilight continued, now sitting down behind Skeeter.

Allen snatched the radio back and looked pointedly at both of them, waiting for them to fall silent before pushing the button on the radio again. “Yes, and I haven’t forgotten your terms. You, on the other hand, seem to have forgotten my response.”

“No, I remember it quite clearly, actually.”

“Then, I will ask you one more time: What do you want?”

“To give you one last chance to surrender.”

((((((*******))))))

“Simmons told us which route ya’ll were takin’ outta Vegas so that we could cutcha off.” the marine elaborated.

“That’s bullshit. Ghost works with a hacker who managed to find our location. That’s how he knew where we were going.”

“Ah’ll spare ya the details, but the hacker wouldn’t help us. We was convinced she was a goner until yer boss called.”

“You’re lying. You have to be.”

“Willina’ bet yer life on that?”

Jeff opened his mouth to respond, then stopped. He thought about everything he actually knew, about the situation he and his comrades now found themselves in and about everything that had happened since they’d arrived in this god-forsaken city. He then shook his head, pushing away thoughts of his own ignorance that threatened the image of his leader.

“This makes no sense.” he said quietly, still shaking his head as he struggled with feelings of respect for his mentor and betrayal at his apparent deception. “Why would Simmons deliberately act against us?”

“Lemme put it this way…how much do you actually know about Twilight?”

“Twilight?” he repeated in confusion. “The anomaly? The terrorist?”

“The bookworm.”

Jeff forced a laugh. “Really, now?”

“You callin’ ‘er a terrorist just proves how ignorant ya’ll actually are. Ya noticed how she ain’t directly attacked ya yet?”

“I certainly noticed the armors she tossed at us.”

“That’s whatcha git fer tryin’ to turn her boyfriend into a street slushy.”

Jeff shook his head as he straightened up, cracking his neck. “Why the hell should I believe anything you have to say?”

“Fine. Don’t.” the marine said with a dismissive wave of his hands. “Ah’m the sure the intel yer new boss gave ya ’bout her is much more reliable.”

Jeff glared at the other man.

The other man simply smiled.

“She can’t be innocent.” he said finally.

“There’s kids in Vegas done worse things than her.”

Jeff shook his head and looked back the way they’d come, noticing with a start that his troops were even farther behind then before . He immediately slipped his radio off the loop on his vest and changed the channel. “Carl, what’s going on? Why’s everybody falling back?”

“Remus gave the fallback order.” the wheelman answered breathlessly. “Said something about a failsafe. Some of the armors broke off, they might be moving to make a roadblock.”

“Failsafe?” he repeated in confusion. “What failsafe? Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He didn’t? Isn’t he supposed to?”

Jeff didn’t respond, instead letting the arm drop back to his side. His recent promotion meant he was privy to all parts of their attack strategy as well as any modifications, as he was one of the few tasked with making sure it was executed properly. It would be one thing if he wasn’t involved in the plan to begin with, but…

It’s almost like he doesn’t want me to know.

((((((*******))))))

“You don’t scare me, Frost.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Well, consider this for a moment: I spent several years amassing an empire that could not only sustain itself, but give me access to the equipment and resources needed to support an interdimensional campaign. I was nearly ready to launch said campaign when, suddenly, an amnesia-ridden ally of mine brought everything to the ground. I manage to scavenge most of what I need, with the exception of the equipment that would have made the campaign possible. Imagine my relief when I hear that someone with access to that equipment has recently transported herself here, then frustration when my now-former ally snatches her up and hides her.”

Allen looked over at Twilight, who glanced at him anxiously, then looked back down at the radio in his hand. “Your point?”

“We were friends once, Flynt…brothers even. But now you’ve become a liability. I have a mission to uphold, and since you continue to stand against me I will be forced to remove you from the equation.”

“Well friend, perhaps you’ve forgotten, but you’re troops can’t get close to us without being removed themselves. As for anything heavier, may I remind you that you need this chick alive?”

“Actually, I don’t.”

He looked up again in time to see Twilight’s face visibly lose color. “Relax, he’s bluffing.”

“Are you sure?” she replied.

“You see, the gate your friend used to travel here is something of a miracle.” Frost elaborated, cutting off his response. “Recently, I’ve gathered some strange readings coupled with an extremely erratic targeting pattern which have led me to conclude that it wasn’t made by the god that created the network, but rather by the Ethian ponies. Thus it isn’t bound by the same rules that the real gates are. Do you know what that means?”

Allen stared at the radio, panic beginning to grip him.

“I just need her corpse.”

((((((*******))))))

Simmons had found out what Remus was up to, and he’d been killed almost instantly to hide the truth. It had only been a matter of time before the rest of them found out as well, something the commander had obviously planned for by calling in truly loyal soldiers. Now, having failed to prevent their quarry from leaving the city, they no longer held any strategic value to him and now presented a problem.

They knew too much about the true purpose of the occupation, and now they had to be silenced.

Jeff nearly hit himself in the face with the radio as he went to contact his comrades. “Carl, get up here now! I need an extraction!”

“I’m on my way.” Carl replied.

He turned back to the marine. “You’re on your own here. I’ve already lost too many people, and I’m not putting more at risk for your sake.”

“Fine.” he replied, turning back to the hatch at the front. “Git gone n’ stay gone, starchy.”

Jeff watched him disappear down the hatch, then turned back to watch the damaged Jaguar draw closer, finally drawing level with the left side. He clipped the radio back onto its loop and sat on the edge, slid off, and landed on its roof with a heavy thud.

He squirmed back into the passenger seat and immediately picked up the radio again before his friend could ask any questions. “This is Lieutenant Jeffrey, addressing all members of the initial three units sent to Vegas, formerly under the command of Captain Simmons. Commander Remus has gone rogue, and has plans to terminate any agents with knowledge of his defection. Your orders are to split up, get as far away from Nevada as possible, and hide. I’ll contact D.C. and get them on this, but you are to maintain complete radio silence until this blows over. All lieutenants, confirm order received.”

There was a moment’s pause as the other lieutenants confirmed that their respective squads had understood the directions. “Oxley confirmed.”

“Brody confirmed.”

“Jones confirmed.”

“Cox confirmed.”

“Grizer confirmed.”

“Alright.” Jeff said, confident now that they’d all gotten the warning. “Stay safe everyone.”

With that done, he tossed the radio in the back seat and grabbed the med kit again. “You wanna switch and do this or do you just want me to do it?”

“Switch. You’re not using peroxide on me while I’m driving.”

((((((*******))))))

Twilight felt the blood drain from her face, the ability to breath suddenly deserting her.

“You’re a fucking animal, Frost.”

“If that’s what it takes to win. Goodbye Flynt.”

Allen clipped the radio back onto his belt just as Arnold dropped back down, reaching up and shutting the hatch after him.

“We might have a problem.” he said.

“No shit, really!?” Allen replied sarcastically, causing the marine to raise an eyebrow at him. He immediately took a deep breath and turned to him. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s been goin’ on while Ah was up there?” he asked, more surprised than hurt.

“Ya’ll remember Frost, right?” Skeeter asked from the front.

“Uh-huh…”

“Ya’ll remember Al killed him?”

“Killed ‘im twice ‘smore like it.”

“He ain’t dead no more, and he’s sendin’ somethin’ mean after us.”

“Shit. Ya’ll remember where I put the C4?”

“In the cage.”

Arnold followed Allen to the back, the former undoing the clasps on the ammo locker and the latter retaking his position at the back door, scanning the horizon for possible threats. Twilight got up and made her way back to her position by the door, scanning right alongside him. Behind them, a hatch opened as Arnold took a pair of binoculars up to the roof.

The highway had long since vanished, giving way to a sandy asphalt road. The air, now devoid of sound save for the massive engine at the front, seemed to stand absolutely still as it waited for the tension to break.

“What do think he’ll send at us?” Twilight asked.

“I don’t know.” Allen replied. “At this point, I thought we’d faced everything they had to throw at us. A tank maybe?”

“Oh please, no.”

“How does that shield of yours work, exactly?”

She looked down at him, fear changing to confusion. “That’s a strange question to be asking now of all times.”

“I just want to know how much punishment it can take before we run the risk of getting greased.”

“Well, basically it absorbs the kinetic energy of the projectile and transfuses it to my own reserves, leaving the projectile to fall to the ground.” she explained, then rolled her eyes at her own answer. “In other words-”

“So you could keep us safe all day then?”

She paused for a moment, then nodded. “Theoretically, if they kept shooting at us.”

“Then I think we’ll be fine.” he said confidently, then shifted in his crouched position. “Heads up, we’ve got SUVs.”

Twilight immediately threw her shield over the back, simultaneously scanning the road behind them and spotting a few black dots on the horizon.

“There’s only five.” Allen reported.

Twilight looked back down at him in confusion. “They can’t seriously hope to attack us with only five cars.”

“They aren’t.” he replied before turning towards the front. “Hey Skeeter! You got anything up ahead!?

“Nah, what about you!?”

“Five SUVs!”

“Seriously!?”

“Hey, Ah got somethin’!” Arnold called from above. “Ah think they got air support!”

“Chopper!? Bomber!? What!?”

“It ain’t movin’ fast enough to be a plane so…chopper Ah’m guessin’!”

“Twi, that shield is about to become our lifeline. Are you ready?”

“Ready. But…what’s a chopper?”

“Helicopter. This one’s heavily armored and probably equipped with heavy machine guns and homing rockets.”

“So…bad, then.”

“Yeah…bad.” he said with a nod. “Good thing you’re a magical genius, huh?”

“This isn’t at all what I studied for.” she replied flatly.

“I know. I know.”

They both turned as Arnold swore loudly and jumped back down the collapsible ladder.

“What’s wrong?” Allen asked.

“Man, it’s a goddamn Apache!”

“So?”

“So? So!? Them things was specifically designed for takin’ out tanks! What the hellr’ we ridin’ in Al!?”

“Relax. We’ve got Twi.”

“Can she stop ten thousand armor piercin’ rounds a second from tearin’ us all new sphincters?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so…okay.” he said, visibly relaxing even as he looked through a window at the rapidly approaching aircraft. His focus switched to the five ground vehicles slowly gaining on them. “Whaddya wanna do with them?”

“I’ll take care of them. Twilight, can you cover the roof, too?”

“Of course.”

“Great.” Allen said with a smile. “We’ve got this, people.”

The chopper was now charging towards them, its miniguns spinning threateningly. Below, gunmen with assault rifles emerged from the safety of the armored vehicles and opened fire, their rounds simply dropping when they hit the transparent pink barrier.

“Here we go!” he said.

Suddenly, all sound was replaced by a deafening roar. Allen’s shot missed the grill of the SUV and shattered the windshield instead as he cringed from the extreme report of the craft’s primary weapons. It stopped as quickly as it started, leaving the crew of the Outlaster deaf and disoriented.

“Damn, that was loud!” Arnold half-shouted to all of them.

“What!?” was the simultaneous reply.

“What!?” he replied.

Allen shook his head as he watched the helicopter through the front window. It kept going for a few seconds after it passed them before pivoting in the air to face them again.

“Twi! Cover the front!”

“Alright, but I have to drop the back then! I can’t hold both ends at once!”

“That’s alright, I can handle the back!” he said, pulling the bolt back and preparing for another shot at their pursuers. His crosshairs hovered over a tiny gap in the grill’s armor, then switched to the forearm of one of the gunmen. The man cringed visibly before ducking back inside, his firearm bouncing down the road.

He repeated the process for two more soldiers before the shield disappeared, the sudden barrage of gunfire forcing him to take cover on the side of the door. He checked to make sure everyone else was alright as he pulled the bolt back again and peeked around the corner, just in time to watch as an RPG was leveled at the back door.

“That’s not happening.” he muttered as he squeezed the trigger.

TINK

Allen’s eyes widened as his rifle, which hadn’t jammed once in the three years he’d had it, refused to fire. He quickly dropped it and drew the revolver, shooting the rocketeer directly in the chest. The man slumped over just as the rocket fired, the deadly ordinance soaring through air towards the pavement under the bus.

He pulled the hammer back, this time aiming for the rocket as he pulled the trigger…

…and watched the bullet glance weakly off the side.

Oh no.

Suddenly he was floating through the air, gently drifting towards the front before slamming into a seat and hitting the floor with two loud ‘oofs’. He looked around, his companions in similar states of distress.

Then fear hit him harder than a train.

They had no shield.

And a helicopter ready to tear them apart.

They were helpless.

“INCOMING!!” he yelled as he instinctively covered his head with his arms.

The roar came again, the ceiling and floor sparking brightly as the rounds tore through them. He felt himself scream as his side exploded in agony.

And then it was over.

He groaned as the ringing in his ears slowly abated, the sound of the now-struggling engine replacing it and closely accompanied by a strong smell of smoke as he tried to rise from the floor into a sitting position. The wound in his side chose that moment to make itself known, making him scream silently to himself and forcing him back down.

He lay there seething in pain for a second, then called out to his friends. “Who’s hurt?”

There was a groan from somewhere to his left that sounded like Twilight regaining consciousness. Arnold sat up in the seat above him, bearing a scratch on his shoulder and a bloody lower leg. “You’re alright?”

“Little beat up, but Ah’ll live. You?”

“I’m missing something, I think.” he said as he attempted to sit up again. “We need to get up, because they’re not stopping. Twi, are you okay?”

“I think so.” she replied. He succeeded in sitting up and was able to confirm that she was, somehow, mostly unharmed.

Passing it off as just another magic trick, he called out for the yet-unaccounted for member of their group. “Skeeter, you still alive up there?”

The mechanic didn’t respond as he continued driving.

“Skeeter!?” he called again, louder this time as he struggled to rise. Arnold scrambled off the seat and leaned over him, his face losing all color. Allen followed his gaze and felt his own heart stop, the puddle of blood under the driver’s seat paralyzing him.

“SKEETS!!” the marine screamed.

Skeeter remained silent as their getaway vehicle began to veer off course, tires screeching as they watched the road ahead rising to meet them.

“EVERYBODY GRAB SOMETHING!!” Allen screamed.

For the second time in his life, he was subjected to the feeling of the world trying to crush him as it rolled around the Outlaster, shattering the bullet-proof glass and making him forget which direction was up. He felt them hit something, and they suddenly stopped rolling and started spinning off the side of the road, slowly grinding to a halt on their left side as the engine finally died.

Dust hung in the air, clouding their vision.

All was silent, save for a man’s quiet sobbing and the sound of a helicopter just outside.

Author's Note

Welcome back everyone.
Be sure to hit that like button if you're enjoying, and leave a comment with your thoughts.
Peace. :twilightsmile:

P.S.-Fuck Microsoft in the ass with a toilet brush.

Ch.33-Silence

Allen hissed as the world began coming back to him, bringing with it a very familiar and very unwelcome sensation. He held his head and silently begged the pounding to stop, groaning when it refused and looking around for his hat.

He was laying on one of the gun cages in the back of the bus, the heap of scrap metal that had previously been their ticket to safety now resting on its side. Its interior was warped beyond measure from the battering it had taken, glass shards and firearms now strewn throughout. His companions were likewise scattered, and he struggled to get up and see if they were okay. He grit his teeth as the action earned him a stinging pain in his torso and looked down to see what the damage was, grimacing at the fresh gouge which lay just below his other one.

Clarity came slowly, bringing with it the events preceding their crash. His rifle had chosen the absolute worst time to malfunction, and panicking the way he had was the reason he’d missed the rocket. Now they were without transportation and-

“Oh God, Skeeter!” he said, quickly getting up.

He looked down the length of the bus towards the driver’s seat, once more noticing the horrifying amount of blood which now dripped down the floor towards the windows and limping towards it. A boot sticking out from between the seats made him aware of where Arnold had landed. Twilight lay against what had previously been the ceiling, still breathing but not moving.

He continued past them, unable to do anything for them at the moment. The many bruises he’d acquired in the rollover made themselves known as he went, but he ignored them. If the amount of red at the front was any indication, Skeeter was dealing with much worse.

He arrived at the front in time to hear the mechanic groan in agony and swore loudly at the man’s appearance. He was bone-white with a bloody hole in his midsection, which he was vainly attempting to plug with his hands. Headwear forgotten, Allen took off his scarf and bunched up either end, carefully lifting up the larger man’s wounded side to shove one end under his back. He cringed as the action yielded a pained yelp, then set him down on the scarf so that his own weight would control the wound in his back.

He placed the other end over the front and applied pressure, earning another groan in response. “Sorry, buddy. This is all I can do right now.”

Arnold groaned behind him, telling the world in no uncertain terms that he was not getting up any time soon. He shook his head, another oath escaping him as he realized he was on his own. Yet another followed close behind as he heard several doors slam outside, making him aware that their pursuers were forming up.

He shook his head in panic, facing the ultimate worst-case scenario. Their only means of protection and transportation had been rendered useless, one of his best friends was hanging onto life by a thread, the other two were completely unconscious, he himself was battered beyond belief, and armed soldiers were preparing to storm their wrecked vehicle and finish them off. Oh, and there was an anti-tank aircraft hovering outside with machine guns primed and ready.

Allen ground his teeth together as his panic and hopelessness were replaced by anger. “Why couldn’t you just stay dead?” he muttered.

Skeeter, who had been staring blankly down the aisle, looked back up at him with a frown. “Huh?”

“Nothing. Try to stay calm. The slower your heart beats, the more time you have to live.”

The other man nodded and laid his head back down, then suddenly began chuckling weakly. Allen looked up from the wound to give him a confused look. “What’s so funny?”

“Them magical ponies with their top hats and their sparkly dresses and their bow ties and earrings. Funniest damn thing Ah ever heard.”

“Dude, not the time or place.” he replied, turning to stare out of the back door.

“Yeah…yeah, probably not.”

Silence fell over the Outlaster, broken only by the beat of propellers outside. Allen continued watching the back, briefly wondering why the chopper didn’t just hose them down with another flood of armor piercing rounds. Skeeter stared at the ceiling, his expression blank, before suddenly addressing his caretaker. “Al…”

“No.”

He looked over at the black-clad assassin, who refused to show him anything but the back of his head. “Al, listen-”

Allen turned towards him, two tears rolling away from his eyes. “I’ve been listening. Not a day goes by when he doesn’t ask me the same fucking question, and I make the same fucking promise…that everything’s going to be fine.” he said, looking down at the barely functional makeshift bandage. “And then I sit there, waiting for paramedics to come and take the body away. I can’t do that again. I…I just…”

“Allen.”

He looked up, receiving a hard look from his friend. “Ya’ll need to be honest with me. Am Ah dyin’?”

Allen said nothing, instead looking back at the ground.

“Al!” he croaked, putting as much force into his voice as his weakened body would allow. “Am Ah gonna die ‘r not!?”

The other man remained silent. Skeeter opened his mouth to try again.

“Yes.” Allen said quietly. “You’re going to die here, Skeeter.”

Skeeter stared at him for a moment, then leaned his head back. “Alright, cool.”

“Cool?” Allen repeated, looking back up at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Ain’t no sense bellyachin’ about it.” he said calmly. “It ain’t up to me anymore.”

“But-”

“Ya wanna know what the old man asked us when he woke up in the hospital?” he interjected, Allen immediately shutting up and staring at him silently. “He asked us to be honest with him. He didn’t want us to sugercoat nothin’ or beat around the bush…he wanted us to give it to him straight. Why? ‘Cause he knew it’d be better fer all of us if we just acknowledged it…that the first step to healin’ was acceptin’.”

Skeeter looked him dead in the eye. “But that ain’t what you did, and Ah’m ashamed it took me so long to notice. Ya’ll never got over what happened to yer folks cuz you ain’t let ‘em die yet. They’ve been living in yer head fer the past four years because ya’ll done refused to let ‘em go. That’s gotta stop.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Yes ya can. The next time ya see Logan, you tell that lil’ rascal the truth. Tell him exactly what’s ‘bout to happen and help ‘im accept it. Promise me yer gonna do that…fer his sake and yours.”

“But-”

“Promise me.”

He stared at his friend for a long time, unsure whether taking his advice was a good idea or not. He feared the look he knew he’d receive from his younger sibling if he told him that he was about to die, and was more tempted to simply say no.

But this wasn’t about him anymore. This was Skeeter’s last request, and he knew he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t honor it.

Reluctantly, he nodded. “I promise.”

The mechanic smiled. “Good. Now Ah’ve got another important question for ya.”

“What’s that?”

“Ya think Ah’d look cute as a pony?” he asked with a grin.

Allen stared blankly at him for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Dude…what the fuck?”

“Ah got to thinkin’ after we broke outta south.” he said with a small shrug. “Thought if…y’know…we couldn’t get back to the garage, probably have to start over someplace else.”

“Like Ponyland?”

“Ya’ll say it like Ah’m crazy r’ somethin’.”

Allen shook his head and smiled. “You’d probably look about as cute as Wallace Shawn.”

“Don’t ya’ll go spittin’ on Shawn like that!” Skeeter replied with a wheeze. “At least he don’t look like an Eminem copyright case!”

“Fuck you, dude!” he shot back, laughing just as hard.

Laughter poured out of the previously silent Outlaster, both men unable to stop themselves despite the direness of their situation. Allen let his head hang low, his ability to breathe having almost completely deserted him. The rest of the world…Twilight, Arnold, Frost’s men, the chopper…temporarily ceased to exist as his mind was filled with thoughts of Skeeter robbing clueless businessmen at a casino.

After a few minutes, Skeeter stopped laughing. Shortly afterward, Allen also stopped, and the bus was silent once more.

((((((*******))))))

“What do you mean ‘not working’?”

Ford simply rolled his eyes as he turned to face her. “I feel like that’s a pretty universal phrase, corporal.”

“Then let me rephrase the question: Why are you sending the three of us into the lion’s den?”

“Trust me, telling Gates to hose the thing down real quick was my first idea, but the coolant system for the guns isn’t working and they’re overheated.” he replied. “Look, don’t be so melodramatic. Even if any of them survived, they’re not going to be in any condition to fight you. Just go in, confirm their deaths, and grab the body so we can move on.”

The corporal gave him a dirty look before she went to retrieve her gear and comrades. Ford simply shook his head at her nigh-insubordination and turned back to survey the medical teams.

Normally, he would have sent more people into the enemy craft, but the acquisition of the traveler put them on a timetable. Once they found out she was dead, the creatures that controlled the Breach gate would be unlikely to open it again. They would have one chance to successfully infiltrate Ethis, and they’d all need to be at peak physical efficiency.

That was why he currently had most of his people behind cover, taking a few brief minutes to repair the damage caused by Flynt and his friends.

He approached one of the injured soldiers and addressed the medic helping her. “How bad is it?”

“Not as bad as you might think, actually. The impact from the round was probably the worst part.” he replied. “As far as wounds go, this one is actually quite mild. With enough pain killers and proper binding, she should be ready to cross over once we rendezvous with the main force.”

“Good.” he replied, turning to the soldier. “So how’s it feel?”

“Numb, thankfully.” she replied with a shrug of her good shoulder. “I think a few of the other guys have broken bones. Jones seems to be doing the best. His armor took the brunt of the force from the round.”

“Good to hear.” he said, looking sidelong at the rocketeer being fussed over by one of the other agents. He then heard footsteps and looked behind him, the corporal and her teammates coming to a stop in front of him.

“We’re moving in.” she said simply.

“Have fun.”

She rolled her eyes behind her visor and started towards the wrecked school bus, the two men under her temporary command following close behind. Ford stayed on the road, watching them begin the short jog to the objective.

“Frost to Sergeant Ford. Report.”

He slid the radio off his belt as he went to answer his commander. “We’ve got them, sir. They’ve rolled over and crashed into an electrical tower, and I just sent in a team to finish them off.”

“Why? What’s the point in stealing an anti-tank aircraft if we’re not going to use it?”

“The coolant system for its guns is malfunctioning. I would’ve recommended using missiles, but you said you need the body in one piece.”

“Thank you. How many did you send?”

“Three. Most of my people got shot up pretty bad in the chase, so that’s really all I can spare.”

“You might want to consider going with them. If Flynt’s still alive you’ll need every gun you can get on him.”

“With all due respect sir, you didn’t see the rollover. There’s no way in hell anyone could be ready for a fight after that.”

“I’m sorry, were you the one that got shot in the face by that prick? I didn’t think so.”

“I didn’t mean any-”

“If you remember from the briefing, Flynt is a bit more resilient than your typical mercenary. He went up against some of my best men, half an army to back them up, and walked away with barely a scratch.”

“Lucky him.”

“No. Not luck. Something much more complicated than that.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll bet my right arm that Flynt is not only still alive, but still in near-perfect health…and you and I both know why that bus crashed.” he said grimly. “Knowing how well he takes loss, I suggest you take some of the medical team and overwhelm him with sheer numbers.”

“Are you sure-” Ford began, but was cut off by the sound of automatic gunfire. He immediately turned his attention to the bus, watching the corporal fall out from behind the hood and begin scrambling back to her feet, only to be dragged back inside with a scream.

“What was that?” Frost asked over the radio.

Ford turned away from the scene and instead addressed his troops. “I don’t care what you’re doing! If you’re able, grab a gun and get ready!”

“Lieutenant! What the hell just happened!?” Frost shouted through the radio as patients and medical personnel alike began hastily donning armor and arming themselves.

“The team is dead sir.” he said briefly before changing channels. “Gates! What do you see!?”

“I’ve got movement.” the chopper pilot answered. “No clear visual, but someone is definitely moving around down there.”

“Do not take your eyes off of him!” he changed the channel back and addressed his boss. “Sir, it’s under control.”

“Can you see him?”

“He’s trapped inside the APC with-”

“Ford! Can you see what he’s doing right this very moment!?”

“No, but-”

“Rush him! RUSH HIM NOW!!”

“Run in and take him out!” he shouted to the soldiers in cover, who immediately sprinted out and towards the enemy craft, some shooting into the air to keep their target behind cover. His radio suddenly beeped, notifying him that Gates was trying to hail him on the other channel. “What!?”

“Target sighted! Target is ar-” was all he heard before a shot from Flynt’s rifle made him jump.

The running soldiers continued running, already a third of the way to the bus. Ford glanced between them as he tried to determine who was actually hit, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he realized that no one was injured.

What on Earth was…oh hell.

He slowly turned around, inspecting their air support. The Apache continued floating in place, a golf ball-sized hole in its blood-spattered windshield.

He lifted the radio once more. “Gates, check in.”

No response.

“Gates, respond!” he said again, panicking.

The pilot remained silent as his bird slowly dipped down toward his ground-bound comrades. Ford snapped back around to face the soldiers nearing the bus and cupped his hands around his mouth.

“LOOK OUT!!” he screamed as the chopper flew overhead, turning turtle as it went.

The majority of them turned around in time to notice the bird and scramble out of the way, the less fortunate few being either crushed underneath or eviscerated by the propeller. The grounded titan then exploded, sending flaming pieces of metal in all directions and causing several more troops to collapse as the projectiles collided with them. Ford peeked over the hood in horror at the catastrophe before him, before it was obscured from sight by the thick smoke billowing from the wrecked chopper.

No sooner had the smoke covered the area than the screaming began, Flynt using his new screen to ghost between his enemies and execute them one by one. Gunfire occasionally joined the cacophony as they attempted to fight back, or as their guns were stolen and used against them.

He quickly bolted back to one of the other SUVs, pulling his assault rifle out of the back seat and returning to his position of cover to peer at the wreckage through the scope. His aim snapped to a figure charging out of the smoke, then returned to scanning the wrecked chopper when he recognized Jones. A handful of others followed close behind, most with guns and one simply running for his life.

As quickly as it began, the screaming stopped. Ford’s breathing came in deep, shaky gasps as he continued to watch the smoke for any sign of movement, knowing that whatever came out of there now was an enemy. He heard what was left of his comrades do the same, a loud clicking noise farther back telling him that Jones had loaded his RPG and was aiming it at the smoke, ready to obliterate anything that looked like it wanted his blood.

They waited in a tense silence, all eyes darting around in search of the man in the black coat. The air was suddenly filled with gunfire as movement was spotted on the right, all triggers immediately staying as they realized it was just a rock.

Is he toying with us? Ford thought briefly. No. He was probably trying to fake out Jones.

More movement, this time in the center. He followed the motion with his assault rifle, his blood freezing when he saw the oddly shaped rock headed their way.

“GRENADE!” he screamed as he dove to the ground.

One of the vans exploded nearby, killing three and sending their rocketeer tumbling off the top of the one next to it. The sergeant scrambled back to his feet to aim at the smoke, then fired wildly at his right as Flynt flew behind the cover of an SUV and sank his dagger into the throat of another soldier. He then ducked down and rolled behind the cover of another car as the assassin took his most recent victim’s weapon and fired it at him, using his body as a meat shield.

He pressed his back against the car as he felt around his belt for his radio, finally locating it and ramming his thumb into the button. “Ford to Frost! Come in!”

He’d barely finished talking when his commander responded. “Sergeant, what’s going on over there!?”

“He’s killing us, that’s what! Please advise!”

He waited, but the other end remained silent.

“Marley, get out of the way!” Jones bellowed from nearby before howling in pain as he was shot in the ankle. He then growled, switched his grip on his weapon of choice, and swung the back end diagonally at his attacker. Flynt simply spun around him and stabbed him in the back, drawing another scream.

Ford, knowing he was next, pressed the button again. “Sir, please! For the love of God! Please advise!”

The rocketeer grunted as he took a blow to the face, then again as he was drop-kicked into the backseat of the van behind him. As he scrambled to climb back out, Flynt picked up the fallen rocket launcher and fired it in after him, watching both of them burst into flames.

“Fuck this.” he said at last, sneaking around to the driver’s side of his cover.

He got in and slammed his foot on the accelerator, his enemy spinning around in alarm and diving out of the way of the approaching vehicle. Ford laughed as he sped past and turned on a dime, once more facing the assassin. Flynt swung the launcher onto his back and then, to Ford’s surprise, held his arms out in a clear challenge. The lieutenant shook his head with a smile and floored the gas pedal, once more attempting to grease the maniac.

Both men locked eyes as the distance between them rapidly shrank, crimson glaring into hazel and vice versa.

Suddenly, Flynt hopped to the left of the car and latched onto the side. Ford yelped in terror as the door opened and he was yanked out of the seat, tumbling head over heels in the sand as his car rolled away into the desert.

They came to a halt about a hundred yards away from where they’d started. Ford looked around, his vision swimming from the fall, and noticed Flynt picking himself up out of the sand a stone’s throw away. He gasped and scrambled to get to his feet, his legs wobbly and uncooperative. A gunshot rang out and he hit the ground again with a yell, holding his exploded kneecap. He panted as he looked back to see Flynt approaching him, unslinging the spent launcher from his back.

He practically ripped the radio off of his belt. “FROST!! HE’S GOING TO KILL M-” he began, before said launcher was swung into his face, sending him to the ground. He groaned in pain, holding his fractured skull as Flynt raised the weapon again.

“Wait…wait!” Ford said, raising a hand to ward off the blow. “You don’t have to-”

The large metal cylinder came down again, replacing anything else he had to say with an agonized scream.

“I do, actually.” he said before bringing raising it and bringing it down again.

And again.

((((((*******))))))

Everyone in the trailer, Frost included, flinched visibly each time they heard the man’s skull crunch. The transmission eventually cut out, Ford obviously lacking the strength required to keep the button held down. Several minutes of shocked silence followed, the sound of an engine being the only thing to disturb it, until the radio abruptly crackled back to life.

“You know, this seems awfully familiar…almost like we’ve done it all before.”

Frost sat stock-still for a long moment before shaking his head at the radio. “You possess enough skill to single-handedly bring an entire city to its knees…and you squander it protecting some foolish little girl from an entire dimension away.”

“Maybe I’m just doing it to spite you.”

“Cute.” he replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have no idea the havoc you’ve caused by doing this.”

“I really don’t care. But you know what I do care about? My family. And you just hurt them again.”

“That’s hardly-”

“You better hope we never see each other again, because if we do I’m going to kill you until you stop coming back.”

Frost sat quietly as he heard the transmission end once more, listening to the soft static emanating from the device in his hand. Said hand began to shake with increasing intensity as his frustration approached the boiling point.

“FUCK!!” he shouted, standing and throwing the radio at the far wall, shattering it like fine china. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCKING FUCK!! GOTH GARBAGE PIECE OF SHIT!!”

The other troops in the command center looked on with mixed emotions as their commander leaned against the wall, hands behind his head and his back to them.

She was gone. They’d lost her.

They were now the most wanted men and women in the nation, potential charges ranging from damage of public property to treason and terrorism…and they had nothing to show for it. Even if he could dispatch reinforcements to the retrieval team’s last known location, their quarry could be miles away in any direction by the time they arrived. They were well and truly screwed.

Silence lingered for several more minutes, one woman coughing lightly in an attempt to break the tension. Frost finally spoke up, addressing his second-in-command.

“Lieutenant, you wouldn’t happen to have another miracle in your pocket, would you?”

He saw Larson shake his head out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t suppose you have another backup plan?”

“Nope.” he sighed. “We seem to be up the creek.”

A shrill ringing interrupted his brooding, making him growl as he dragged the offending device out of his pocket and answered it. “Who is this?”

“It’s August! What the hell happened!? Where’re your guys at!?”

Oh. Right. You.

“We’re sitting here…waiting for our pickup…and instead we get ambushed by like twenty cops! Look, you’re paying me not to ask questions, I get that. But is it too much to ask-”

“Hey August?”

“…Yeah?”

“You’re fired. Piss off.”

He hung up, the sounds of angry screaming vanishing instantly. Never again. Not with cases like him, anyway.

“He didn’t sound happy.” Larson remarked.

“You heard that?” he replied. “Yeah, screw him. He was less of a mercenary and more of a psycho murderer anyways. Plus, that fee was ridiculous.”

Larson simply nodded and put his hands in his pockets, looking over at the window outside.

Frost remained where he was for several minutes before finally turning to face what was left of his comrades. They all looked back at him, some with concern and others with an obvious question.

“Well folks…we’re sunk. With no means of finding the traveler, our budget completely cut, and the entire national government screaming for our blood; this mission now has zero chance of success.”

There was silence for a moment as the news of their failure sank in, until one stepped forward and bowed his head. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Frost walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Chin up, Pierce. This isn’t your fault.” He turned his attention to the rest of the troops gathered around him as he continued. “This isn’t anyone’s fault but mine. I’ve underestimated Flynt for the second time, and the operatives tasked with eliminating him paid the price.”

He lowered his hand as he looked around at each of them. “You put your faith in my abilities as a leader, and I’m sorry to say that I’ve failed you. I’ll understand if you choose to back out. I can negotiate your reentrance into society and absolve you of all responsibility in this matter.”

He waited, then felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to face Pierce once again.

“I came here because I was told that the whole world was in danger.” he said. “I arrived with the intent of doing my part to save it. I’m not backing out now.”

Frost smiled at him before turning to the rest of his crew. “Does anyone else here share his resolve?”

He waited for a brief moment, then felt his smile widen as hand after hand was raised, marking each soldier’s loyalty to the cause.

“Thank you. I couldn’t possibly do this without you.” he said, then took a deep breath as he walked back to his original position. “While crossing the divide is still our top priority, we will have to alter our approach. Your realm, Terris, also has a Breach gate. It’s location has been lost in time, however, so we will need to find it…a task which will not only prove costly, but may take more time than we have.”

Larson stepped forward. “Do you have any idea where we could start?”

“No.” he said with a shake of his head. “The gate’s creation preceded this world’s continental drift, which will greatly frustrate our efforts. We will need the aid of a team of scientists, archaeologists, and historians if we’re to have any hope of finding it. With any luck, its location was recorded and preserved by-”

He stopped as his phone rang again, then looked up at the ceiling in disbelief as he saw the number. “Unbelievable.” he said angrily, answering it. “What part of ‘piss off’ did you not understand!?”

His second-in-command looked on in confusion as his commander’s expression transitioned from angry to surprised, then from surprised to gleeful. His confusion turned to interest at the other man’s next words.

“You have no idea how wonderful it is to hear your voice. How did you get this number?” there was a moment of silence as the mystery caller answered. “Was he now? Well, I guess he was good for something after all. Listen, I need your help finding-”

Larson put his hands in his pockets as he waited for the call to end. His interest only grew as his boss’ grin widened.

“You’re the answer to my prayers, I swear. I’ll be in touch.” he said before putting the phone away and turning towards them again, still grinning. “Scratch that, let’s find a gas station and refuel. Larson, I need a second head over here. Everyone else, continue as you were.”

The other occupants of the trailer looked at each other in confusion, then shrugged and did as they were told. Larson approached Frost and raised an eyebrow. Frost simply continued grinning.

“Do you remember Detective Granger, Larson?” he asked.

“Of course, sir. He was almost as good at hiding as Flynt.”

“Do you remember how I found out that he’d been investigating me?”

Larson was quiet for a moment, then smiled.

“What did I say? The answer to my prayers.”

((((((*******))))))

Allen panted heavily, head swimming as he limped back towards the bus, holding his midsection. He hadn’t bound the fresh gash in his side before going after Frost’s men, and the strain he’d placed on the wound had torn it open even further. Whereas before he could have gotten away with simply dressing and bandaging it, he was now going to need full-blown stitches, preferably before he passed out from blood loss.

He looked over as he passed the raging inferno that contained the charred remains of the rocketeer, promptly wondering if the gash was really his biggest problem.

I guess at the moment, yeah. he thought dimly, his gaze returning to the sand. Whatever. Sully can handle this when he gets here, provided one of those fuckers had a-

He looked up again and stopped, staring. Twilight stared back, her eyes wide.

He looked down at himself, noticing for the first time how much blood he was covered in, then looked back up at her. She in turn glanced to the left and right of him, taking in the warzone around him. He gulped audibly, beginning to feel the tension in the air.

“Twi-” he began, taking a cautious step towards her.

She ‘eeped’ and raised her hand towards him, blanched as she realized her magic was once more out of commission, and began cautiously backing up into the bus. “Please…just stay back.”

“Listen, I-” he tried again, stopping as she finally ducked back inside.

For a moment, he debated on following her in and explaining what had happened, then he sighed and instead started for one of the still-intact SUVs behind him. What had happened was he had proved to her that he had not changed at all in the past three years.

He was still just another monster.

Author's Note

Honestly, if I tried to apologize for how long this took to get out, the A.N. would be longer than the actual chapter. So I'm just going to say I'm sorry and move on.

Be sure to leave a thumbs-up if you enjoyed and leave a comment with your thoughts.

Love you guys. :twilightsheepish:

Ch.34-A Losing Hand

Twilight stared at Skeeter.

Skeeter smiled, sleeping peacefully.

She sat in the aftermath of a tangible retelling of the story Allen had told her mere nights ago. Whereas before it had held a certain surreal quality to it, this time felt almost too real. She’d initially found herself hoping against hope that this was just a bad dream, and that she’d soon be woken by the three friends as they argued about some trivial matter. Hope being the sad thing it was however, Skeeter continued to smile at the window above and Allen remained outside with all but three of their attackers.

The optimistic part of her wanted to believe that he’d done it out of defense. They’d been helpless, unable to do anything except wait to be slaughtered on the side of the road. He’d been the only one still functioning after the crash, the only one left to make a stand. She might not have minded as much if that were the case.

But the realistic part of her knew that it wasn’t. Not if the scene outside was anything to go by.

Soldiers lay strewn about like ragdolls, their wounds ranging from simple knife wounds to total dismemberment. The aircraft responsible for the latter, as well as two of its land-based relatives, continued to burn fiercely just outside. It was the work of someone who had shed all sense of self-control, contenting themselves with ripping and tearing through any they perceived as an enemy.

That couldn’t be him. That wasn’t the Allen she knew.

Or was it?

There seemed to be two sides to him. The side she’d become friends with was like an extremely sarcastic version of her father, always calm and collected. The other side, however, was an animal that smiled during the act of brutally murdering over two dozen people. She had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt by assuming that he’d seen the error of his ways and that he was an inherently good person, but now she was almost certain that she’d been too generous.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car outside, and she felt herself immediately tense in fear. They were immobile and incredibly weak, and her magic still had yet to return. If Frost attacked them now, they’d be finished.

As she listened, however, she felt her shoulders sag in relief at the distinct lack of gunfire. Whoever was here was obviously an ally, though none too pleased if their shouting was anything to go by. She stood up and approached the back door, stepping on top of the gun cage and straining her ears as she tried to make out what was being said. The stranger’s voice carried over to her as she neared the exit.

“-don’t drop by, you don’t call; I don’t hear anything about you until I see your car getting passed around like a cheap hooker in residential! Then you call me to come help you, and you can’t even explain to me what in the fuck’s going on!? Seriously!?”

Allen’s reply was too quiet for her to hear, but she caught enough of the tone to know that he was still quite agitated.

“When we-no! Absolutely not! You’re explaining this shit right now, or I’ll cart the lot of you back to Vegas and lock you up myself!

Twilight heard nothing for several seconds, then Allen began speaking again, his voice having devolved into an irritated hiss.

“…FREAKING COOPERATE!!”

She jumped slightly at his sudden change in volume, stumbling over the edge of the cage and landing on the floor with a loud grunt.

The voices outside fell silent, then Allen said something to the stranger in a more acceptable volume, said stranger asking a question in return. A moment passed before he received a rather subdued response.

Twilight got back to her feet and waited, but heard nothing else except for the shifting of sand as the two men made their way towards the Outlaster. A moment later, an older man in uniform with gray streaks marring his otherwise black hair knelt by the back door, looking around until he found her. “Twilight, I presume?”

“Who are you?” she asked, a little more forcefully than she’d intended.

“My name’s Sully.” he replied. “According to your friend here, we need to get you to safety as soon as possible. Why we need to do that…and why I shouldn’t just slap you all in cuffs and throw you in a locker…he has yet to explain.”

Twilight felt her stomach clench in fear as the younger man spoke. “Twi, go get in the front. We’ll be there in a bit.”

Sully shook his head. “She needs to help us move the supplies.”

“You and I can handle the supplies. I don’t think she wants to be anywhere near me right now.”

Twilight couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that as the older man turned to him angrily. “I’m not really concerned about what she wants right now.”

“And I’m not really concerned about what you’re concerned about.”

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to like that!?”

“Look!” Allen said impatiently. “I didn’t call you because I need your guidance! I called because we need a ride to Alamo! Regardless of how well I’ve run this show so far, I’m still the one running it! So if you’re going to help us, then get out of her way! If not, then go back the way you came!”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to risk using their vans?” Sully sneered.

“We’ll walk.”

His eyes widened in surprise. Complete vulnerability aside, you didn’t just go wandering through five miles of desert without any supplies and expect to survive. Allen had to know that.

His momentary look of surprise was replaced with a knowing glare. Allen did know that.

“When did you become such a world-class bastard?”

“All answers when we reach Alamo.” he replied with a smirk.

Sully glared at him for a moment longer, then stood up and walked away with a sigh. Allen took a deep breath before turning to Twilight. She looked back at him with a mixture of fear, mistrust, and just a bit of the anger he’d seen a few nights ago.

He shook his head and gestured for her to exit, watching as she carefully squeezed through the misshapen doorway. She straightened up and wordlessly made her way toward the white truck on the road.

“I get the oddest feeling that she doesn’t like you.” Sully remarked casually.

“Just get in the bus.” Allen replied dejectedly.

Sully shrugged and turned to climb into the wreck, the younger man following close behind. He looked around as he entered, taking in the battered interior with guns and glass strewn everywhere. “What should we grab fi-”

Both men froze as they heard shuffling coming from between the seats, a loud groan accompanying it. Sully heard a soft oath from behind him. “What is it?”

Allen hesitated. “I…dammit. I’m not ready for this.”

“Ready for what?” Sully asked, confused.

“Ah, fuckin’...” Arnold groaned. He began weakly scrambling into view, looking left and right before his gaze landed on them. “Al? Wha-Where are we?”

Allen felt his stomach tie itself into a knot and said nothing, instead moving forward to help his friend to his feet as the moments before the crash replayed themselves for him.

“…what happened to the Apache?”

He stayed quiet as he placed the marine’s arm over his shoulder and began leading him towards the front, every footstep feeling like a mile.

“Al, what happened?” he asked again, worry creeping into his voice at his friend’s silence as they approached the broken windshield. “Quit bein’ all cryptic and say…somethin’…”

Allen stumbled as he was almost knocked over, the larger man hardly noticing as he swept over to his twin on the ground. “No, no, no, no, no! SKEETER!”

He watched helplessly from behind as Arnold tried to shake his brother awake, naturally, to no avail. Sully stopped next to him, freezing when he saw the mechanic lying in a pool of his own blood. “Oh hell…”

“Yer not dead. Ya can’t be dead. Ah’m just dreamin’.” the marine rambled, trying to reason his tragic reality away. “Ah’m the one who gets flown overseas. Ah’m the one on the front lines, not you. This ain’t happenin’…This ain’t happenin’…”

Allen walked over and knelt down on Skeeter’s other side, unsure of what to do. He felt inexperienced, incapable, and unable to do anything except watch. What do you say to someone who just lost the last of those they held nearest and dearest?

He knew the feeling, of course. He knew it all too well. An important piece of Arnold’s life had just been ripped away, and his mind was tearing itself apart as it attempted to protect itself. The internal war showed plainly on his face, tears streaming down his cheeks while he smiled like nothing was wrong…like Skeeter was going to wake up with a yawn and make some crude joke about three men standing around him.

Skeeter had known what to say back when it was him, he was sure of it. Unfortunately, he realized as he grit his teeth in frustration, he’d been too self-absorbed in his own shock and misery to hear. What would his friend say in a situation like this?

“Al, he’s gonna be fine, right?”

He felt his mind go numb for a moment, looking up at the one who’d asked the question. “What?”

“Skeets! He’s gonna be fine, right!? He just needs a doctor. Get some stitches, get some blood back in him…he’ll be back up in no time!”

Tell him exactly what’s ‘bout to happen and help ‘im accept it.

“-get him to a hospital in Alamo. We gotta hurry-”

“Arnold, he’s dead.”

“DON’T SAY THAT!!” Arnold yelled angrily, his eyes welling up despite his rage.

“HE’S DEAD!!” Allen shouted back, briefly startling the marine. “I WATCHED THE POOR BASTARD BLEED OUT THROUGH MY FINGERS!! HE’S FUCKING DEAD!!”

Something told him this wasn’t exactly how his friend would handle the situation, that his approach might have been gentler; but he couldn’t think of a better method for getting through his brother’s denial.

“HE AIN’T DEAD!!”

“YES HE IS!!”

“HE CAN’T BE!!”

“WHY NOT!?”

“‘CAUSE AH WAS SUPPOSED TO GO FIRST, DAMMIT!!” he screamed, now openly crying as he hugged his brother’s corpse tightly.

Allen hesitated, then got up and went to Arnold’s right, embracing him as best as he could as he continued to bawl over the corpse in his arms.

“It was supposed to be me!” he went on, beginning to shake visibly. “Ah was…He was supposed to be safe at home, protectin’ the family business! He fixed cars, for God’s sake! This never should’ve happened to him!”

“I’m sorry.” Allen replied.

Arnold continued to cry into his brother’s shoulder, soaking the already blood-stained vest with his tears. Sully continued watching, feeling as though he should do something but feeling more out of place by the second. Allen continued to squeeze him by the shoulder.

“He was the best o’ the three of us.” the marine continued. “He didn’t deserve this.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Ah know.” Arnold choked out.

They sat there for a few minutes, one continuing to sob quietly while the other awkwardly tried to convey every ounce of support and sympathy for his loss through a half-assed hug. Sully coughed lightly and excused himself, muttering something about going outside to keep watch.

Eventually, Arnold calmed down to the point where Allen felt like he should get the ball rolling. “Arnold, we need to get out of here. We’re not prepared to deal with whatever reinforcements Frost sends at us.”

He sniffed quietly, nodding.

“Do you need help?”

He shook his head as he sat up, placing his arms under Skeeter’s legs and shoulders before shakily rising to his feet. Allen followed as he carefully limped through the windshield, then went around the bus and proceeded up the slope to the white truck parked on the side of the road, ignoring the many corpses and body parts. He slid into the back, scooting all the way to the other side so that that his brother was stretched across the back seat, his head held protectively in his arms.

Allen shut the door behind them and turned back to the Outlaster, shaking his head angrily. Fucking Frost…

((((((*******))))))

Sully rubbed the strain out of his arms as he turned away from his truck bed, having just delivered the last of the medical supplies from the SUVs. Soon after returning from escorting Arnold to the truck, he’d been asked to He turned as Allen arrived with another box of rations from the bus. “Anything left in there?”

“A few things, actually. There’s some military hardware in one of the cages I’d like to have, since Frost and his guys obviously aren't going to play fair.”

Sully nodded, then turned to look at him dead-on. “You know, I could tell it was bad when I got here…but I didn’t expect this.”

“Expect what?”

“Allen, Skeeter is dead! You kids are refugees! You can never go back to Vegas now, do you realize that?”

“Screw Vegas. I’ve always hated that damned city.”

Sully opened his mouth to ask what he meant, then closed it and considered him for a moment. “Alamo?”

“Alamo.”

He watched the younger man as he neatly stacked the boxes of canned goods in the back of his truck. This couldn’t possibly be Allen. The Allen he knew was reclusive, though still able to associate normally with people he knew and trusted. This side of him was reserved for strangers and people he knew he should be wary of. To be on the receiving end of his apathy was an entirely new experience for the veteran.

This didn’t just feel different. It felt wrong.

We really need to get to Alamo.

“Oi!”

He jumped slightly and looked at Allen, who was glaring at him impatiently. “Wh-what?”

“Could you give me a hand, please?”

“Sure, let’s go.”

“Muchos gracias senor.”

They walked back to the bus, Allen climbing through and instructing Sully to stay outside while he opened the supply cage on the wall/roof. As soon as the latch came undone, close to a dozen silver cases came tumbling down, making the older man jump back in fear.

“Relax.” Allen said. “Most of it’s just more ammunition. Except for that small one right there…that’s C4.”

“C-what!?”

“Courtesy of Arnold.”

“Is he an idiot!?”

“Yes. Now grab as many of the cases as you can carry and go. I want to leave.”

Sully opened his mouth to respond, then sighed and started picking up the cases. Allen’s a psycho murderer, Arnold somehow sneaks explosives past the TSA…honestly, what’s next?

His answer came in the form of a frustrated sigh from further inside, prompting him to look up at a thin man holding a sniper rifle. It looked beat up, the scope having been torn off and a rather large chunk missing out of the stock. He was currently staring down the barrel, lightly running his fingers over a spot near its base. “…outstanding…” he grumbled quietly.

“Um…Where did you get that?” Sully asked.

Allen looked over at him for a moment, then picked up a nearby guitar case and shoved the damaged instrument of death inside. “Alamo.”

Sully opened his mouth to argue, then sighed and turned his attention back to his stack of silver cases. He was beginning to piece parts of the puzzle together, and he didn’t like the picture they were making one bit. Memories of hundreds of investigations floated to the front of his consciousness, each involving a single bullet wound in the head, but devoid of any clue as to who had fired it. He hoped against hope that these memories had nothing to do with his friend’s son.

Allen approached what was left of the pile just as he picked up his stack, clenching his teeth with the effort of carrying the heavy cases of ammunition back to his truck. He was beginning to feel less like a patrol officer and more like a soldier preparing for war, a feeling which only intensified as he took in the stacks of rations, guns, and medical supplies occupying the bed of his truck.

The enigma of the hour arrived next to him, setting his burden down inside the bed with a grunt and looking over at him with just a touch of annoyance. “What’s the holdup, Sully?”

Sully glanced at him thoughtfully before turning back to the truck and began stacking the cases. “I swear, if you don’t-”

“Sully?”

“What?”

“When have I ever broken a promise?”

Sully grimaced as he thought about the question, then shook his head as the final box was put away.

“Exactly, now get in. I’ve got to go grab something real quick.”

The old man raised a brow in question, but did as requested. Allen then jogged back to the SUV that had rolled off into the desert, passing the sergeant without sparing him a glance. He reached it and opened the driver’s side door, spotting his prize almost immediately.

He climbed in and grabbed the assault rifle out of the passenger side, giving it a calculating look. The barrel was shorter than that of his rifle, but that was to be expected. It also had a foregrip, a red dot sight, a magazine that he estimated could hold about twenty rounds, and a recoil-control stock. All in all, it looked to be a sturdy, reliable piece of hardware. Although it was probably more tailored to Arnold’s style of combat, it would serve his needs until he could find replacement parts for his rifle.

He hurried back to the truck and climbed into the back, pulling the tailgate closed behind him and reaching past the stack of supplies behind him to knock on the window. Sully waved in understanding, and their new getaway vehicle slowly accelerated, leaving the fires and blood-soaked sand behind.

Allen watched as the warzone slowly shrank in size behind them. Under different circumstances, he may have allowed his mind to wander at this point, to rewind and analyze his recent actions. Under those same circumstances, Skeeter might have survived and Twilight might not have been deathly afraid of him. He might not have had to explain to Sully how he had disgraced his family name by becoming Vegas’ number-one hitman.

But these were not ideal circumstances. Skeeter was dead, Twilight sat in utter fear of his presence, Sully was practically flooring it to their destination so that he could hear every detail of his career, and he was barely maintaining control of the situation.

This was the hand they’d been dealt, and now they had to play with it, win or lose.

Author's Note

Remember when I posted a chapter every two weeks? Yeah, me neither. Oh well, at least it didn't take six months this time.

If you're enjoying this story, be sure to give it a thumbs-up and leave me a comment with your thoughts. If you aren't enjoying this story, do those things anyway.

Peace. :twilightsmile: