C.R. Detective Agency: Case File, Corrupted Roots

C.R.’s Detective Agency: Case File, Corruptions Roots. By: Snoopy8009

Chapter 3: One Piece At A Time

After fighting with the door and lock C.R. was in luck and unlocked the back door. Carefully pulling it open enough to peel inside, C.R. finds a dimly light hallway, about a pony and a half apart, one way led left the other right. After a minute of watching and waiting, he goes inside, carefully closing the door, the music is much louder now, almost deafening, the smell of perfume and sex wafted into his nose. Taking a guess C.R. goes left, after a short trot and an increase in music volume, he comes upon a red plush looking door with brass studs lining the door and in the middle a tiny round window with colorful lights dancing beyond, before he could peek through the back of a pony’s head appears and the door starts to swing towards him, starting to panic and nowhere to go, C.R. readies himself, deftly pulling out Snub, he grips it with his mouth and is able to pull the trigger with his tongue. The pony was busy yelling to another unseen pony, causing the first one to stop mid-way to talk, C.R. couldn’t hear the second one but going from the first one it sounded like the first one was in trouble with somepony higher than him.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the door swings back to its closed position and the pony moves off, taking a deep breath and calming himself, C.R. holsters and un-cocks Snub. Quickly looking through the window C.R. sees a big open area, filled with a few off duty Sparkle Guards, you can always tell from their movements, everyday street ponies and other more scummy bunch gathered around, on the wall to the left was a long bar with stools. On far end a small ‘Exit’ sign is dimly light, ponies sat and drank their poison of choice, the end closest to himself was blocked from the small window, panning to the right slightly there was tables set up for more drinking and the added benefit to watch the dancers, the middle area was lined with brass bars to establish a boundary that the guests could go and from what he could see there was a red velvet rope leading to probably VIP spots, the back wall was the same deal as the middle, except for the addition of a second floor. The wall closest to C.R. must have been stages; everypony was looking towards that wall. The left side of the Pig Pin wasn’t visible in this position. Seeing enough he goes back to the door he slipped into to try the other way instead.

After a short while and thankfully uneventful trot, C.R. comes upon a heavy wooden door, from the smell and look it probably came from the Everfree Forest, a brass key hole stands out from the dark wood, using one of the two possible keys left, and he gently presses it inside the key hole. It turned easily with a solid thump from the lock signaling the release of its hold on the door. After opening the door, a click of the light switch turns on a sickly yellow light, C.R. quickly scans the room in search of the container that the last key unlocks, failing to find anything in his visual sweep from the doorway, he moves inside, closing the door as he went and moves behind Hog’s desk, a heavy wooden one with various writing utensils and paperwork, a nice sized map of Manehatten hung on the wall behind the desk. Glancing at the papers on the desk reviled nothing important, mostly business expenses; ‘you think he’d be paying his dancers more than this, cheap bastard’ C.R. thought.

Trying the drawers on the desk also reviled nothing too impressive, some old bits, a old revolver with bullets, way too big for that caliber, rolling freely inside the drawer, more junk paperwork, and current porno magazine. Plumping down onto Hog’s chair, ready to give up his search, C.R. looks to the clock on the wall. ‘Shit, almost time for me to go’ was his thoughts. If Slips information is to be trusted C.R. had about fifteen minutes before Hog’s return. Glancing at the map on the wall, he finally notices that it stuck out from the wall farther than it should normally be. Getting up from the chair and feeling a little tense he gropes around the frame, a latch was half way up the side. With a grin and a whisper to no one in particular ‘There you are…’ he pulls the latch, causing a loud click and a soft squeak as it swung the map outwards.

Behind was a fairly good sized wall safe with warn golden leaf work all around it, big words etched into top middle of the face said, ‘Flim-Flams un-breakable safe!’ and a tiny version of said brothers faces winking at you, one on each side of the etching, a keyhole was smack in the middle of the safe, brass surrounding it. Sliding the key into the keyhole, a *Thunk Thunk* could be heard as the key turned. The door smoothly opened as if it was just bought off of the show room floor, say what you will about the Flim-Flam brothers but they know how to make a damn good safe, inside was about a whole length of a pony’s hoof, there was a lot of currency on one side, the middle sat a very expensive looking gun, a golden pistol with pearl handle, etched into the side of the pistol was a beautiful cursive writing that simply said ‘Enforcer’.

Under the gun sat some important looking file, grabbing it up and setting it onto the desk, he flips through it, inside the file was documents about the all gangs in the whole city, some of the names had been scratched out, some had been highlighted with the words ‘Recruit?’ next to them, some had both. Looks like Slips wasn’t lying about Hog moving up his operation. After glancing through the list of gangs, some familiar others not, he comes upon a list of ponies names, witnesses that need to be quieted, those that are in Hog’s pocket, and more. Each list had been organized by district of the city, Market District, Harbor District, Noble District, and a few others.

As he was about to continue reading he heard the door lock and the doorknob jiggle accompanied by the voice of Hog on the other side. ‘By Luna’s fucking beard’ quickly closing the safe, locking it and swinging the map back over the safe, C.R. grabs the file, leaving the keys on the desk top. His heart rate soaring from adrenalin kicking in, he searches desperately for a way out, no way can C.R. take on all of Hog’s guards and the buildings security at once. Seeing a vent grate just above some filing cabinets, C.R. bounds to it, slightly denting the top of the cabinets and luckily enough it looks like it was only held in place with clips for easy removal, prying it open he goes inside, quietly closing the vent grate as he went. As the door opened he could hear Hog talking to another pony.

“Huh, that was strange, I’ll have to get that door looked at later, but in the mean time let’s talk business.” Hog came into view, C.R. feeling like he was in the clear now, heart beat slowing slightly. Before Hog got halfway to his desk, he stops mid-stride, staring intensely at his desktop. After a moment of confusion from C.R. he then realizes what he was staring at, the keys, the Celestial damned keys! Quietly moving deeper into the maze of vents C.R. could hear Hog yelling.

“INTRUDER! SECURITY GET YOUR LUNAR DAMNED FLANKS IN HERE!” A bell starts going off somewhere in the building and the eco of hench ponies scrambling into Hog’s office, “I WANT THIS FUCKER FOUND, LIKE YESERDAY PONIES, MOVE IT!”

‘Well there goes my quiet in and out plan’ C.R. thinks, figuring out a new way to get out alive he continues onwards. After crawling for a ways, going left and right, listening to the ponies running around underneath him with the club DJ still at it, causing loud music to bounce around in the vents, C.R. reaches a branching point, the one on the right going up, one going straight ahead, and the last one on the left going down at a steep angle, hearing the cling clangs of ponies scrambling along behind him, he decides going straight would be too risky, the ponies following would get a clean shot at him if he didn’t make the next bend in time, and going down probably leads to the basement with the possibility of no exit, so he goes right and up all the while praying to Luna.

Soon after taking the right passage, the dance music starts to get louder than ever with its steady beat *Dun, Dun, Dun* with a warble here and there, it wasn’t no smooth jazz but it wasn’t the worst thing he’s heard either. C.R. comes upon a straight path that leads to a dead end; it was lined with multiple small vent holes for escaping air. The cling, clangs of the other ponies had started to get louder, they must have split up. ‘Looks like this is my Ali-mare’ C.R. thought, moving as far as he could to the end of the vent, so he can be a little harder to hit, with a protest from the metal panel below him, he suddenly feels the vent floor disappear under him. A loud *CLANG* echoed throughout the room and no doubt in the vent as well, C.R. gave a yelp as he fell and hit the floor, followed by the squeaking of the vent door as it swung freely. Trying to gain his bearings in the dark room, C.R. smelt a strong sent of bleach, some kind of tree smell and other chemicals all invaded his nose at once causing him to cough.

Getting up and realizing he was in one of the no doubt many janitorial closets, he gives quick thanks to Luna for this blessing. As he got up and moved to the door, he could hear the ponies were almost to his escape hole, he could vaguely hear two of them say something like ‘…going up around the side!’ followed by another one saying ‘…one smart son of a bitch’ seeing a big white jug of bleach on the shelf, C.R. grins as un-screws the lid and then grabs the handle tossing it into the vent. A loud scream could be heard, must have gotten in somepony’s eye, he followed up by tossing an equally large jug of window cleaner after the bleach.

Tying an old rag to his face, C.R. could hear the rapidly retreating yells and choking noises from the vent. Feeling his eyes start to burn from his chemical bomb, he stashes the prized folder under his hat, pulling out Stub and cocking the hammer, C.R. crashes out the door of the closet. Music instantly started assaulting his ears along with a tiny whizzing sound that didn’t really follow the music. Going to his left he flips over the nearest table for cover. Peeking out from his makeshift cover C.R. could see he was on the second floor and looking down he could see everything he seen before, except for the exit sign. C.R. could also see lots of Thompson wielding security personal, in various outfits, most were in normal club security, few others had full on body armor, those must have been Hog’s guard, everypony who had any brains in their heads had cleared out, ‘Good minimal casualties’ was all he had time to think.

All of the security personal was currently scattered throughout the first floor, taking pot shots. C.R. could feel his cover whittling away from the .45 caliber bullets, poking his own gun out from cover he started blasting, not expecting to hit anypony it was more to make them take cover so he could move freely.

*BLAM, BLAM* the thumps on his shredded cover stopped, rolling to the side he bounds up and sprints for the ledge, not bothering to aim C.R. fired one shot in the general direction of the security personal, leaping over the rail, he falls towards the first floor, firing two more shots as he went. By this time they had gotten brass balls or were just too stupid to be scared because they had gotten out of cover and their guns were answering him.

C.R. could swear time slowed down, so much so that he could see the contrail following the bullets from their guns, the muzzle flash seems to last minutes instead of seconds and the DJ kept the music loud and the bass drop seemed to make ripples in the air, the DJ even changed the tempo to make even gun fire sound like music, the zinging bullets only added to the music like it was something the god of war himself would approve of, it was almost hypnotic in a way.

Reality kicking back in and C.R. landed fast and hard, squarely on one of the many tables, causing it to shatter like glass and leaving a big chunk of broken wood sunk deep in his flank, crying out in pain through his gun handle he climbs off the wreaked table. Gaining his bearings he finds the exit sign and with all haste he dashes on 3 hooves to the door. He only slowed down to turn his head back to shoot in the direction of the hench ponies, unfortunately ‘Stub’ is a six round capacity revolver, only allowing him to shoot back one more time before the hammer clicked on an empty cylinder. Not having the ability to reload and run at the same time and not wanting to be left out in the open to reload C.R. stuck to running, just as he is about to turn the corner at the exit door a loud, deafening ‘boom’ drowns out the music, followed by parts of the brick wall dusting C.R.s head, Hog must have finally caught up and he was pissed.

Not bothering to confirm this, C.R. ran out the steel door, coming to the front of the Pig Pin, slamming the door shut and yanking the wooden steak out of his flank, he blocks the door shut with the piece of table. Soon after he hears hooves beating on the steel door, followed by the scream of the ‘Enforcer’ causing loud *pings* with sizable dents in the steel door, luckily it held fast.

The rain not letting its heavy assault up yet made it so the blood from his wound will not leave a trail and the clean rain water helped wash out his wound. Taking off the make shift mask, he tries to stem the bleeding from his flank and starts limping off towards his office.

After putting a sizable distance between himself and the Pig Pin C.R. stops to adjust his fedora, Hog must’ve gotten close to killing him he though because his fedora was allowing more rain on his head than usual. He stopped suddenly; patting his naked head spinning around to see if it fell was on the ground behind him. “FUCK!” he yelled, “First my trusty trench and now my favorite hat, can it get any worse?” asking no one in particular. As if on cue a taxi cart zooms by, causing a particularly dirty puddle to splash over him. C.R. had then muttered with a deadpan look “Of course it would…”