RDI Canterlot: Code Blue

“H-hello? Is anypony there?” The pegasi tapped her hoof against the table, squirming in her seat.

Behind the one way mirror, Cover Story, Wire Tap, and Soarin observed the uncomfortable mare. “You know her, Lt?” Asked Wire Tap, sipping from his styrofoam cup.

“Uh, I’ve seen her. Think her name’s… Tropo Sphere?” Soarin sighed. “What’d she do?”

Cover Story shrugged. “That’s what we’re here to figure out. You find Barrel Roll yet?”

“He has a… doctor’s appointment, of sorts.” Wire Tap and Cover Story exchanged a glance.

“Of sorts, huh?” Soarin gave a frustrated sigh.

“It’s not what you think. Do you know how traumatic it is to listen to a pony die and know you can’t do anything about it?”

Before either agent could answer, the door to the interrogation room opened, and Braeburn and Bon Bon entered. Bon Bon took a seat opposite Tropo Sphere while Braeburn slammed the door shut. Tropo Sphere flinched, and Braeburn smirked.

“So. Tell me, PFC Tropo Sphere. Why’d you run?” The pegasus didn’t answer, fiddling with her hooves. Braeburn leaned in, until his face was nearly opposite of her’s.

“Mare asked you a question.” The pegasus hesitated.

“I… don’t know. I guess you scared me. The way you were staring at me agent....”

“Bon Bon. And if you have nothing to hide, why were you scared?”

Soarin pressed his face against the glass. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to watch an interrogation!” He exclaimed. “What’s their tactic? Good Cop Bad Cop?”

“Um… more like Bad Cop Worse Cop,” replied Wire Tap. He exchanged a glance with Cover Story, who just shrugged.

“So tell me, PFC Sphere. What are you hidin’?” Questioned Braeburn in a casual tone.

“Nothing!”

“You just have somewhere to be?”

The pegasus nodded frantically. “Yes! I was late for a meeting!”

Braeburn suddenly slammed his hoof onto to the table. “Bullshit! You just said you were scared off by her stare!” The pegasus shrunk back in her seat.

“Wha- what?”

Bon Bon chuckled. “I wouldn’t get cute here, Private. This is a murder investigation, after all.”

“Cut the crap. Why’d you kill Sand Storm?”

“I didn’t kill him! He was my friend!” Braeburn threw his hooves in the air, backing up.

“Oh, did you hear that, Agent Bon Bon? They were friends!”

“So they were, Agent Braeburn!” Bon Bon replied, matching his sarcastic tone.

“Why, ah guess we’ll have to let her go then!”

“Well, Agent Braeburn, perhaps something occurred to compromise their friendship? Or maybe their relationship wasn’t a classic friendship.”

Braeburn reached into his vest pocket and produced an evidence bag, slamming it onto the table. “Ah had the pleasure of going through Sand Storm’s personal effects earlier. Care to explain the pill bottle?”

Bon Bon flipped some pages on her clipboard before sliding it across to the mare. “Our Medical Examiner also found traces of drugs in Sand Storm’s system. Stimulants. Take that and the pills and put two and two together.”

“What- what does this have to do with me?”

Bon Bon leaned back in her chair. “Well, you’re a corpspony, PFC Sphere. That means you have access to all types of medications from the sick bay. Tell me, if we were to do an inventory, how many drugs would we find missing?”

Tropo Sphere slumped over in her chair.

“Got her,” said Wire Tap, smirking at Cover Story. “Broken already. I win the bet.” Cover Story grumbled to himself before pulling out some bits and tossing them over to Wire Tap.

“Okay. Look, flying these things causes a lot of stress, okay?” The pegasus sighed, her eyes darting from Braeburn to Bon Bon. “The pressure these guys face is unreal. There are, like, a bajillion things they have to keep an eye on when in the air, and the training schedule barely gives them enough time to sleep.”

Bon Bon tapped the evidence bag. “That where the drugs come in?”

“Look, Sand Storm asked me, okay? This was his idea. He said that he needed a little something to keep alert in the cockpit. I said no, but he kept bugging me, then he offered me cash-”

“How much?” questioned Braeburn.

“I didn’t want to! It’s just, he was getting aggressive, and-”

Braeburn shot up, sending his chair crashing to the ground. The impact caused Tropo Sphere to jump.

“How many bits, soldier?!” He barked.
“15,000, Sir!” Tropo Sphere responded, snapping to attention.

“Awful lot for a corporal,” commented Bon Bon.

“They were paying him more for volunteering as a test pilot, ma’am!”

Braeburn nodded, and Bon Bon closed her folder. “Thank you, private. I think we’re done here.”

“At ease, soldier,” Braeburn said as he opened the door.

“Sir- Agent Braeburn, am I going to get in trouble for this?” Braeburn shrugged. “That’s not my decision, PFC Sphere.” Braeburn pulled the door opened, and Spitfire walked in, followed by two other pegasi in uniforms. “It’s up to your bosses.”

Trop Sphere sunk down in her chair. “Crap.”

“Hm… Looks like the main power routers are operational. Don’t see a problem with the propellers, or the hydraulics for that matter. Doesn’t make sense. Any problems should have been caught during the pre-flight check. But if it was this minor, I guess it would be missed. Huh.”

The elevator doors dinged open, and Braeburn and Bon Bon walked out. Bon Bon raised an eyebrow, observing the pegasus that was currently pacing around the salvaged wreck, muttering to himself. “Cowpony, who in Celestia’s name is in our evidence garage?” came a voice from behind them.

A red pegasus was eyeing the stranger, more amused than concerned. “Hey, Lock. That’s Sky Sailor,” answered Cover Story as he trotted over. “He’s a former Wonderbolts Technician, here to check out our wreck and find evidence of sabotage.”

The pegasus chuckled. “He any good?”

“He better be, he wrote the damn flight manual for half our air force,” interjected Soarin as he joined the group, followed by Wire Tap.

“Don’t believe we met. Assistant Special Agent in Charge Lock Heed. You are?”

“First Lieutenant Soarin, Wonderbolts,” answered Soarin. “So you’re their boss, huh?”

“Sure, you could say that. You guys working that sabotage case, huh?” Braeburn nodded.

“Yep. Well, tryin’ to. We don’t have much to go on. Security footage has been scrubbed, and we still can’t find the damn ATC.”

“So you’re looking for somepony on the inside.”

Bon Bon sighed. “Yeah. Doesn’t help, though. It could be any one of dozens of engineers.”

“Agent? I think I have an answer,” called Sky Sailor.

The group surrounded the wreck, listening as the engineer spoke. “I’ll explain this as simply as I can. This right here is the liquid cooling system. It works to keep the engine from overheating. Now. I’ve examined the ducts connecting it to the engine, and I’ve discovered several cuts.” The pegasus pointed out several tiny nicks in the piping.

“One small leak brought this whole plane down?” Questioned Lock Heed.

“One leak isn’t a problem. Several leaks is another story,” Sky Sailor answered. “These leaks prevented the cooling system from doing its job. As a result, the engine overheated, and, well I guess you know the rest.”

“Well, why didn’t he alert the Control Tower there was a problem? Aren’t they supposed to remain in contact?” asked Bon Bon. Sky Sailor shared a glance with Soarin.

“Covert mission,” responded Soarin. “Standard op is to hold radio silence unless there’s an emergency.”

“And in this case, the radio was busted, so he couldn’t call for help and the tower thought everything was fine,” observed Cover Story grimly.

The elevator dinged, and a gray unicorn stuck his head through the doors. “Hey, you fellas working that sabotage case, or are you standing around like a bunch of statues?”

“Hey, boss. We were just going over the wreck.” The unicorn sighed.

“Well, you’ve got another wreck to go over. We had a Code Blue over Canterlot 5 minutes ago.”

Soarin furrowed his eyebrows. “Code Blue? What’s that?”

“Well, we usually use that when there’s a vehicle in trouble,” replied Cover Story. “Like a wagon, a boat, or-”

“-an airplane. Come on, let’s roll. I’m not holding this elevator forever.”

Several Canterlot Police ponies had formed a perimeter around the scene, encouraging curious ponies to keep their distance. Soon, two carriages appeared, pulled by earth ponies dressed in navy blue windbreakers with ‘RDI’ printed on the back. “So, that’s all you’ve got?” mused the unicorn.

Bon Bon nodded. “Yup. We didn’t have much to go on, to begin with.” Special Agent in Charge Dead Drop sighed, closing the case file.

“It’s a start.” The carriages stopped, and the team jumped out. Each pony was wearing a windbreaker over their usual suits, along with caps and sunglasses. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

A smoldering wreckage lay in front of them, several firefighters observing it carefully. Dead Drop frowned as he watched two paramedics reload an empty gurney into the carriage. “They wanted to take the body, but I figured we shouldn’t disturb the wreck until you guys got here,” an officer was saying.

“A wise decision,” commented Dr. Graves. “I can’t say how many cases have been hindered by ruined crime scenes.” The officer nodded, his eyes still on the wreck.

“Can’t say we’ve ever had one of these before. Lucky it didn’t go down in the middle of town.”

“Lucky for us, not so much for the pilot,” observed Braeburn.

“Braeburn, Bon Bon, witness statements. Cover Story, sketch and shoot. Wire Tap, get with Soarin and find Captain Spitfire. Lock Heed, with me.” The agents nodded, carrying out their orders.”Where’s Fire Fight?”

Lock Heed shrugged. “I don’t know, probably back at base. I’ll make a call, see where he’s at.”

As Lock Heed pulled out his radio, Dead Drop watched Dr. Graves advance to the body. “Lock, tell Fire to find that Sky Sailor pony and hold him. We’re going to need him again.”

Dr. Graves shined his flashlight into the damaged cockpit. “Hm. At first glance, I’d say blunt force trauma, but I can’t say for sure.”

“Hey, boss,” called Braeburn as he trotted over. “Done with the interviews. Not many ponies saw it go down, mostly ponies just saw it hit the ground. Bon Bon’s looking for any security footage from cameras, but ah doubt we’ll find any.”

Dead Drop nodded, kneeling next to Dr. Graves. “Time of death, doc?”

Dr. Graves gave a small smile. “Nearly there, my friend. Give me time.” From his bag, the unicorn removed a liver probe. As he was about to insert it, he froze. “Wait. Something’s-”

Before he could finish, the pilot’s eyes suddenly flew open, the pony gasping for breath. Dr. Graves cried out in shock, recoiling from the cockpit. Braeburn instinctively drew his pistol, before realizing there was no threat. Dead Drop whirled around and shouted at the direction of the ambulance. “Unload that gurney! Now! He’s still alive!”