Chapter 1 - "Out of the Shadows"
MARE DO WELL: REBIRTH
A My Little Pony Fanfiction
By Unknown Nemesis & KingOfMyOneTrueWorld
Chapter One - “Out of the Shadows”
The veil of night had fallen over the nation of Equestria, covering the land under a warm blanket of indigo, complemented by the stars that winked like faint pinpricks of light in the darkness. The milky white glimmer of the moon bled through a cluster of clouds, shining down on the proud city of Manehattan like a cosmic spotlight. The metropolis bustled with life, especially during the late hours of the evening. The resident ponies were out and about, attending late night dramas at the theatre, gambling at casinos, dating at a restaurant, or partying at one of the many bars, to name just a few on a long list of recreational activities. Such lively business earned Manehattan the title, “The City That Never Sleeps”. But beneath the surface of carefree fun and peace, lied a rotten core run by lawless gangs, professional crime syndicates, and drug rings that preyed upon those who could not afford the more luxurious attributes of the city. The city of Manehattan never slept, and neither did the underworld.
“Cherry!”
Cherry Harvest let out a startled yelp as her husband, Flynn Moonshine, burst through their apartment door in a panic.
“Flynn, what’s wrong?” she asked with worry.
Flynn sped to the window, peeking outside through the curtains, then glanced back at Cherry.
"Cherry, I need you to listen to me, okay?” he said, making a visible effort to appear calm. “We need to leave, now.”
Cherry’s eyes widened. “Leave, what for?! Flynn, what’s going on?!”
Flynn placed his hooves on his wife’s shoulders and lowered his voice to a hushed whisper. “It’s the Mafia. They’re on their way here!”
“What?!” Cherry gasped, raising a hoof to her mouth. “Can’t we call the police?!”
“The cops wouldn’t make it time, not when those thugs already have a head start!”
“But what would they want with us?!”
“There’s no time! I’ll explain as soon as we’re out of this blasted town. We need to go--now!” Flynn hissed, every word dripping with desperation.
Cherry saw the plea in Flynn’s eyes and relented.
“Alright, I’ll go wake up Daisy.”
“Good,” Flynn nodded. “I’ll find us a carriage. But move fast!”
Cherry darted down the hall and into her daughter’s bedroom. She flipped on the lightswitch and gently shook the slumbering filly awake.
“Daisy, sweetheart, wake up,” she whispered.
The filly mumbled incoherently as she fluttered her eyes in an effort to adjust to the light.
“Mommy?”
“Come on, sweetie, we’re going for a little ride, okay?”
Flynn’s horn lit up as he flung open drawer after drawer in the kitchen, scrounging up whatever spare change he could find. He hoarded the bits into a small pile on the counter and did a quick tally.
Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen! Good, that should be enough to pay for the carriage!
He scraped the pile into a small sack and shoved it into his pocket.
“Flynn!”
Cherry came into the kitchen, carrying the groggy Daisy on her back.
“Mommy, I’m tired,” muttered the filly.
“I know, honey, you can sleep in the carriage, alright?” Cherry cooed, rubbing Daisy’s head.
“Are you ready?” Flynn asked.
Cherry nodded.
“Alright, then let’s get out of here!” Flynn led his family down the apartment hallway, making sure to move as swiftly and quietly as possible, so as not to disturb the neighbors. The last thing he needed, was for them to get caught up in this mess as well. He threw open the door and leapt down the front steps, but froze in his tracks. His eyes widened into saucers at the sight before him.
In front of his apartment complex, a group of sharply dressed ponies stood in a semicircle, trapping Flynn. A bulky, dark grey earth pony shoved his way past the burly ponies, offering a disingenuous smile as he chewed on a toothpick.
“Evening, Mr. Moonshine,” he said. “Where are you headed in such a hurry?”
“S-Shakedown,” Flynn sputtered, his throat choking on fear. “I-I didn’t expect to see you here so soon! To what do I owe the pleasure…?”
Shakedown removed the toothpick from his mouth, flicking it to the side. “Let’s cut to the chase, you owe us some protection money. You were late on last week’s deadline. The boss was beginning to think you were holding out on us.”
Flynn gulped. “Shakedown, please! I don’t have the money to pay you! My convenience store’s profits are falling this month, and I’m giving you at least half of whatever I’m able to make! If this keeps up, I’ll be forced to file for bankruptcy, I’ll lose everything--!”
Shakedown held up a hoof, silencing Flynn.
“I didn’t come to hear you grovel. I came to make sure the debt is paid in full. If you don’t have the money, my boss is willing to accept a substitute payment.”
One of the ponies flanking Shakedown gave a toothy grin as he levitated a bat, waving it at Flynn’s face.
“I-I…” Flynn scrambled to utter a word, let alone formulate a sentence in his fear-induced state.
A sudden, sharp gasp from behind Flynn made his blood run cold.
Oh, Celestia… Cherry, Daisy!
His worst fears were realized when he followed Shakedown’s gaze behind him, spotting the terrified mare frozen in the doorway. Daisy hugged her mother tight, quivering with dread.
“M-Mommy, I’m scared…” she squeaked.
Cherry wanted to say something, to give her daughter some assurance that things would be okay. But the look on her husband’s petrified face provided no such assurance, and she herself unable to do the same.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Shakedown chuckled.
Flynn whipped his head back around to faced Shakedown.
“No, please! I’ll do whatever you want, I just need more time! Please leave my family out of this!”
“More time, eh?” Shakedown echoed faintly, rubbing his chin in thought.
“Yes, just give me a week! I’ll have the money for you then, I promise! You have my word!”
Shakedown thought for a moment, allowing a tense silence to settle in. Then the stallion’s mouth stretched into a grin.
“You know what, Flynn, sure! I’m a reasonable stallion. I’ll give you more time.”
Flynn felt a wave of relief wash over him.
“Oh, thank you--!”
Shakedown interrupted him, “We’re just going to hold on to your wife and daughter for insurance.”
Flynn’s relief evaporated into pure horror, Cherry emitting a gasp as she started to back away, holding Daisy close to her. Shakedown’s smile widened as a large Diamond Dog lumbered to his side.
“Bulldog, if you’d be so kind?”
“No! Leave them alone!” Flynn moved to intercept the Diamond Dog, but his face was struck with a pair of hind hooves, knocking him to the floor. Two of Shakedown’s cronies stood over their fallen victim.
“Nice kick, Haymaker.” remarked the first stallion.
“It’s what I do, Coltrane.” the second cricked his neck.
The pair continued their onslaught, kicking Flynn in the stomach and face multiple times, until he was reduced to a twitching heap on the ground, blood seeping from a broken muzzle.
“Leave him alone! Stop it, please, stop!” Cherry cried out, but was quickly silenced by Bulldog clamping one of his paws over her mouth. He did the same to Daisy, reducing her sobs to muffled whimpers.
“Alright, boys, that’s enough.” Shakedown inserted himself between Haymaker and Coltrane, and crouched to Flynn’s level. “You have one week. Go to the cops and Bulldog gets to have a little... fun.”
Bulldog’s fanged jaws stretched into a malicious smile, his eyes fixating on Cherry with lustful intent. The mare quietly whined, tears streaming from her eyes.
“N-No, don’t…” Flynn reached for Shakedown’s leg, but suffered another kick to the ribs.
“Let’s get going, boys, I think he’s got the message.” Shakedown snickered.
The gang prepared to depart, leaving the broken Flynn on the sidewalk. Daisy thrashed against Bulldog, reaching out to him.
“Daddy!” she cried, muffled through the paw.
Haymaker shot the filly a cold glare that pierced through her like knives. “Shut it, kid, lest I--AGH!”
He was suddenly yanked off his hooves, causing him to land face first onto the pavement. Haymaker looked down to find a cord wrapped around his hind legs.
“What the--?!”
The cord began to pull Haymaker away from the group and up the side of the apartment complex. Haymaker screamed and flailed his hooves, but to no avail as he disappeared over the roof. It happened so fast, the rest of the mobsters barely had any time to react.
“Haymaker?!” Shakedown glanced around the buildings, the houses and apartment buildings surrounding him and his gang like trapped animals. “Who’s out there?! Show yourself!”
His wish was granted immediately, as a figure burst from the shadows, rolling right behind Coltrane and delivering a sturdy buck to his face. Coltrane was propelled across the street, his body slamming into a fire hydrant. Bulldog hurled his hostages to the side and swung a flurry of mighty paws at the assailant, but the attacks were easily evaded. With a snarl, Bulldog threw himself at his attacker, slamming into them. He rammed the assailant against the wall, causing them to audibly grunt in pain. Bulldog pulled back, letting the assailant fall to the ground. He clasped his hands over his head, preparing to bring down an axe-handle, until he was cut down by a blow to the groin. Bulldog whimpered loudly and collapsed to his knees, rendering him vulnerable enough for the attacker to slam their forehoof into his face, knocking him unconscious.
“Stay back!” Shakedown shouted at the figure. They turned their head, to see the mobster holding Daisy in a headlock. The filly kicked and struggled against her captor, but he only tightened his grip.
“Daisy!” Cherry and Flynn cried out.
“None of you come near me or she dies!” the remaining mobster backed away again. In the moonlight, Shakedown could finally make out his attacker. They wore a dark blue mask and a largely purple outfit, complete with a cape and hat.
The masked pony advanced and Shakedown tightened his grip on Daisy’s neck.
“I’m not messing around, I’ll break her neck! I’m not afraid to do it!”
A moment of intense silence followed, then the masked pony’s eyes narrowed and they spoke in a feminine voice.
“I believe you.”
The masked pony produced a small projectile shaped like a question mark, then tossed it at the thug, the gadget circling around him like a boomerang and slamming into the backside of his head. Shakedown grunted, dropping Daisy to nurse his cranium. The masked pony lunged forward and tackled Shakedown to the floor, flipping over his body and landing a few feet ahead of him. Shakedown scrambled to his hooves, throwing a few desperate hooks at the masked pony, but none connected. Ducking an attempted punch, the masked pony retaliated, slamming her own hoof into Shakedown’s chin, knocking him to the ground.
“Mommy! Daddy!” Daisy rushed into her family’s hooves, crying into their chests. Flynn and Cherry barely held back their own tears as they embraced their daughter.
“Thank Celestia, you’re both okay!” Flynn kissed his wife and daughter, hugging them both.
“Come on, let’s get out of here!” Shakedown shouted as he leapt to his hooves and fled down the street, followed by the still conscious Coltrane.
The masked pony prepared to pursue the fleeing criminals, only to be halted in her tracks by Daisy, who’d wrapped her in a hug. The mare’s mask hid her surprised expression as she looked down at the filly.
“You saved us!” Daisy buried her head into the masked pony’s chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
For a moment, the mare did not respond. Daisy raised her head to look at her savior, then felt their hoof softly petting her mane.
“It’s alright,” she finally replied, returning the hug in kind. “You’re safe now. Go on back to your family now.”
Relinquishing the hug, Daisy withdrew to her parents, who stared at the masked mare incredulously.
“You saved our lives,” Flynn said, managing a smile through his bruised face. “Thank you.”
Cherry nodded. “How can we ever repay you?”
“There is nothing to repay,” the mare turned away from the family. “The authorities have been notified and are on their way. You won’t have to worry about them again. Take care of yourselves.”
She raised one of her forehooves, with a gadget strapped to it shooting out a cable that pulled the vigilante off the ground and toward the rooftops, where she disappeared over the balcony.
“Ugh, my head,” Haymaker groaned as he sat up, slowly opening his eyes. His head still throbbed with pain and his vision was hazy from disorientation. He rubbed his hoof against his temple in a weak effort to quell the aching in his cranium. “What hit me?”
The answer came in the form of the masked mare violently seizing Haymaker by the collar and hailing him to his hooves. He was slammed against the side of a brick chimney, the mare’s hoof firmly entrenched in his neck. A gag forced its way from Haymaker’s mouth as his vision began to focus. His eyes were met by the light blue lenses of the masked mare, which cut into him like a scalpel.
“Who are you working for?” the mare asked.
Haymaker gritted his teeth. He'd been asked this question countless times, and he never felt obligated to disclose that information. Not unless he wanted to wind up in the gutter.
He growled, “Piss off, you cu--ACK!”
The mare dug her forehoof deeper into his windpipe, cutting him off. Her lenses narrowed into a glare.
“Believe me, you don't want to finish that sentence,” the texture of her voice changed, taking on a darker, menacing tone. “You were going to take that stallion’s family from him. You were going to take a filly away from her father over extortion money. Do not test me. I will repeat my question, who are you working for?”
Haymaker coughed, struggling to get his response out. “You have no idea who you're messing with,” he gasped. “Do you know what he would do to me if I told you anything?”
“Something like this?”
The mare dragged Haymaker towards the ledge of the building. The stallion’s eyes widened with horror.
“What are you doing?!”
The mare said nothing as she shoved Haymaker against the ledge, holding him so that his torso hung off the side of the complex. Haymaker’s world spun from vertigo as he realized they were at least five stories off the ground.
“Oh, Celestia! No, no, no! Please, no!”
“Your boss,” the mare simply said.
“Shakedown! I work for Shakedown!”
“The one at the top, not some flunky,” the mare said, her voice expressing a tinge of irritation.
Haymaker bit his lip.
“I don't know, I just work for Shakedown--!”
The mare started to push Haymaker further off the ledge.
“No, don't!” he screamed.
“Last chance,” she growled. “Give me a name or they'll be scraping you off the pavement.”
Haymaker’s nerve broke and he blurted out, “Tommy Gun! We call him, The Tommy Gun! I don't know his real name! I swear!”
“Swear to me.”
“I swear! I swear!” Haymaker nodded rapidly, his eyes glued shut with fear.
The mare stated at him intently for a moment, searching for any signs of dishonesty. His sweat, panicked voiced, and fearful eyes were all the proof she needed. She pulled Haymaker back onto the safety of the roof. The stallion let out a gasp before he broke into a fit of relieved panting.
“There, now was that so hard?”
Haymaker never got the chance to reply, for when he looked up, he caught a glimpse of the mare’s hoof rushing straight for his face. The world fell into blackness upon contact.
A slight chill hung in the air as Mare Do Well traversed the landscape of Manehattan’s rooftops, leaping from one building to the next. She paused for a moment to wince at an aching pain in her shoulder, then continued Eastward.
Mare Do Well spotted her destination, a large tower that proudly stood above its neighboring skyscrapers. Manehattan knew it as Ace Powers Industries; Mare Do Well knew it as home. She quickened her speed and gracefully leapt off the building she currently occupied and fired her grappling hook at one of the many windows, catching the ledge. She pulled herself toward the window, placing her hooves along the ledge, allowing her to peer through the glass and into an empty bedroom. She gently pushed the window open and climbed inside the room, sliding the window shut behind her.
As soon as the window clicked shut, the lights suddenly turned on. Mare Do Well spun around in a defensive stance, only to relax at the sight of a white Unicorn standing in the doorway, her purple mane messy and in knots.
The Unicorn muttered, “Belle?”
Mare Do Well exhaled and stood up straight.
“Hey Amethyst,” she replied, taking off her hat and resting it against the foot of the nearby bed.
Amethyst Powers; Belle’s best friend, fellow business entrepreneur, and professional worry wart.
“Another night of ‘work’, I see?” said Amethyst, more matter of factly than an inquiry. “Belle, are you aware that it's almost three in the morning?”
Mare Do Well removed her mask, revealing Belle Hearts, a light orange Earth Pony sporting dark brown mane, which she wore in a ponytail.
“It's 2:55 AM, to be precise,” Belle said as she unclipped her cape.
Amethyst rolled her eyes. “My point still stands. What kept you out for so long? This is late, even for you.”
Belle didn't look up as she continued to undress.
“A family was being terrorized by some thugs, nothing major.”
“I don't buy that for a second,” Amethyst frowned. “You don't go on patrols until nearly three in the morning for ‘nothing major’.”
Belle sighed and conceded, “Okay, so I took some time to gather leads.”
“Oh?” Amethyst quirked an eyebrow, her attention peaked. “On the Don of the Mafia, I presume?”
Belle nodded. “The one and only.”
“Well, don't leave me hanging. What did you find?”
“Not much, unfortunately. Just an alias. He goes by ‘The Tommy Gun’ in some circles.”
Amethyst rubbed her chin as she processed this information.
“Tommy Gun? Can't say I’ve heard of anypony going by that name. Still, we at least have a name to go by.”
“Better than nothing at all.”
Belle slid the rest of her costume off, only to wince in pain, a grunt escaping her lips. She caressed her hoof over the sore, muttering a cursed under her breath.
“Belle, you’re hurt!” Amethyst gasped, rushing to her friend’s side. “What happened?”
“Ugh, my shoulder’s been nagging me for the past hour,” Belle groaned. “One of the thugs I stopped earlier was a Diamond Dog. He caught me off guard and rammed me into a wall. I may need to see Gearbox for this.”
Amethyst guided Belle out of her room and towards the staircase.
“Take it easy, Belle.”
“Amethyst, it’s probably just a bruise. I can walk fine on my own.” Belle said.
“I’m not taking any chances.” Amethyst replied as the pair descended the stairs, entering a workshop.
Across the room, a dark blue Earth Pony was busy at work with welding, the torch generating a stream of sparks that just barely illuminated the workshop. With the flip of a switch, Amethyst bathed the workshop in light and shattered the mare’s concentration, visibly evident by her head snapping towards the ceiling.
“The fuck?”
“Ahem,” Amethyst called out, garnering the Earth Pony’s attention.
“Oh, it’s just you, Powers,” said the mare, setting aside her welding tools and lifting her mask to reveal a black, messy mane. “I see Belle’s back, eh?”
“Speaking of which, Belle was hit by a Diamond Dog earlier and her shoulder is sore. Mind giving it a look, Gearbox?”
“Aye,” Gearbox set her mask on the work desk, gesturing to a table to her left. “Bring her over to the table.”
Belle was brought to the table as instructed, and she propped herself on it in an upright position. Gearbox examined her shoulder and started pressing down on a few points, to test her reactions. Belle hardly flinched the first few times, until Gearbox touched her shoulder blade, and she quietly sucked air through her teeth.
“Ah, here’s your problem,” Gearbox hummed. “You’ve got a nasty bruise, but nothing serious.”
Belle shot Amethyst an I told you so look.
“Powers, mind fetching an ice pack?”
“Of course,” Amethyst nodded and headed upstairs, leaving the two alone.
Gearbox reached under her table, pulling out a first aid kit. As she was withdrawing some bandages to dress the bruise, Gearbox allowed a sly smirk to cross her face.
“She overreacted again, didn’t she?”
“You know it,” Belle chuckled.
“I swear, she gets more wound up every night.”
“She worries when I’m on duty. I can’t really blame her for it.”
“I never did, though it wouldn’t kill her to have a little more faith in you.”
“Here we are,” said Amethyst, returning from the kitchen with a bag of ice in a magical aura.
“Hold it on her bruise for me while I apply the bandages,” Gearbox instructed.
Amethyst placed the ice onto Belle’s sore, which made her visibly shiver.
“Oh, don’t be a baby,” Gearbox teased as she placed the bandages over the ice pack to hold it in place. “You deal with thugs on a nightly basis, an ice pack’s nothing. There we are, all finished.”
The mares backed away, giving Belle the space to hop off the table.
“How do you feel?” Amethyst inquired.
“Better already,” Belle smiled.
“I’d recommend taking it easy for the next few days, as well as some painkillers, just to be safe.” Gearbox advised.
“Thank you, Gearbox.”
“If only it were that simple,” Amethyst sighed. “Belle can’t exactly ‘take it easy’ when she’s out and about every night.”
“You worry too much, Amethyst. I’ll be fine.” Belle said, hoping to assure her friend.
Amethyst shook her head, not entirely convinced.
“Nonsense. Every time you leave this apartment at night, you’re risking your life. I think you downplay the danger in your job too much.”
Gearbox interjected herself into the conversation.
“To be fair, she’s been at this for a little over a year now and hasn’t come down with anything worse than a few cuts and bruises.”
Amethyst responded with a heated glare. Gearbox dismissively waved her hoof.
“What, I’m just saying.”
“You may say that now, Gearbox,” said Amethyst, “But you never know if she may wind up having to be carried home next time, or worse, she doesn’t come back at all. In this line of work, that’s a very real possibility.”
Gearbox crossed her hooves over her chest.
“Well, aren’t you just the positive thinker?”
“That’s enough, both of you.” Belle said, getting both mares’ attention. “Gearbox, I appreciate your vote of confidence, but there’s nothing wrong with her being concerned over my well-being. And Amethyst, I know that this isn’t an easy job for you. It certainly isn’t for me. But I chose to do this. I need you to respect that, and trust that I know what I’m doing.”
“I just want you to be safe, Belle,” Amethyst said in a hushed, sincere voice. “Whenever you come home with bruises like this, it’s hard for me not to worry.”
“And I get that, but I’m as careful as can be. I was just caught off guard.”
“See, that’s what worries me. You were taken by surprise and this is what happened. The next time you get caught off guard, could also be the last time.”
Belle breathed and turned away from both mares, leaning against the table.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be alive, but I am. I wouldn’t be here, unless there was a reason,” she turned back around to face her friends. “I’m not crazy, Amethyst. I just know that I need to do this, and I know in my heart that it’s the right thing to do. I have to do this, because nopony else will.”
There was a long string of silence between the three mares. It was Amethyst who finally broke it with a resigned sigh.
“Alright, Belle. I don’t completely get it, but do what you have to do.”
“Just remember that you’re not alone in this, okay, you nutcase?” Gearbox added with a pat to Belle’s back. “You’ve got Powers and I here to help you anytime.”
This brought a smile to Belle’s face.
“And I’m thankful to have friends who are as willing to help as you are, and I can’t think of anypony else I’d rather have.”
“Well, of course, you’ve Amethyst Powers backing you.” Amethyst said with a cocky smile of her own.
“There’s our resident narcissist.” snarked Gearbox.
Amethyst placed a hoof over her chest with a feigned hurt expression. “Whatever do you mean, Gearbox? I’m not narcissistic, just self-indulgent!”
“This is coming from the mare who had a golden statue of herself made and placed in front of her company’s building for all the world to see.” Belle retorted.
Amethyst let out a giggle, followed soon after by a yawn.
“Well, I don’t know about you gals, but I’m pretty beat. I think now’s a good time to hit the hay.”
“Yeah, I could use some rest myself,” Belle concurred.
“Sleep’s a no-go for me,” Gearbox was already putting her equipment back on. “I’ve got to finish installing these computers, running systems checks, and all that crap. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
“Try not to overwork yourself, Gearbox,” Amethyst warned.
“Ha! That was so funny, I forgot to laugh--minus the initial scoff.”
“You at least remembered to smile!”
“Yeah, yeah, go to bed already.” Gearbox rolled her eyes and pulled down her welding mask, shifting her attention back to her work as the other two mares departed her workshop.
“Typical Gearbox.” Amethyst remarked as they strode down the hall side by side.
“You know here, once she gets going, she doesn’t stop.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Belle chuckled. “I’m aware of the similarities.”
The two stopped in front of Belle’s bedroom.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” Amethyst asked.
Belle opened the door and gave her friend a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, Amethyst. I’m heading straight to bed, no more vigilante activity tonight. Heroine’s honor.”
“Alright, be sure to get some rest. I’ve got big news tomorrow. Goodnight, Belle.”
“Goodnight, Amethyst.”
Belle shut her bedroom door.
“The boss isn’t going to happy about this,” said Shakedown as he trotted down a hallway, flanked by Coltrane. Their chests were weighed down with fear and unease as they drew near a large wooden door at the end of the corridor. Shakedown raised his hoof, but paused before turning to Coltrane. “You want to tell him?”
Coltrane shook his head fervently. “No way, man, I’ll pass.”
Shakedown sighed, then braced himself as he knocked his hoof against the door.
“Who is it?” rumbled a deep, gruff voice.
Both stallions cringed as his voice sent chills up their spines. They suddenly felt light-headed, as if they would pass out from sheer fright at any moment. Shakedown managed to keep himself composed enough to respond. “Mr. Gazillion? It’s Shakedown and Coltrane, sir.”
A string of silence followed, neither stallion daring to move a muscle, as if they were being watched through the door.
“Come in,” the voice finally said.
Shakedown gulped and pushed the doors open, allowing him and Coltrane to enter. They were immediately greeted with the foul smell of cigar smoke that burned their nostrils. The room was well-lit, showing off a red carpet that ran from the door to a desk at the opposite end. A large, black stallion leaned back in his chair, puffing small wisps of smoke from his lips as held the cigar firmly in his teeth. A massive, dark grey Diamond Dog flanked Gazillion’s desk, arms folded over his chest. Behind the stallion, sat an armored Griffon, whose face was obscured by his helmet’s visor. The stallion’s golden eyes honed in on the stallions, locking them where they stood. His eyes narrowed and his brow arched in a manner that spoke of his mood; and it was not a pleasant one.
“Good evening, Mr. Gazillion,” Shakedown nervously smiled as he tried to sound cordial. “How are you this evening--?”
“Did you take care of business with Moonshine, like I told you?” Gazillion bluntly asked, cutting Shakedown off.
“Yes, sir, we did… or at least, we were, but… but…”
Gazillion’s eyes narrowed into irritated slits. “But what?”
“I… I don’t know how to say this, but… we were attacked by Mare Do Well again, and we had to… run before the cops showed up.”
Gazillion glared at the pair for what felt like minutes, his gaze cutting into them like surgical knives.
“S-Sir?” Shakedown whimpered.
“Tell me something, boys,” Gazillion finally said as he smothered his cigar in an ashtray, then leaned back in his chair, never taking his eyes off the pair. “Do you like pissing me off?”
Shakedown and Coltrane exchanged worried looks, eyes widening with concern.
“N-No, sir! Absolutely not!” Shakedown spat out quickly.
“Yeah!” Coltrane parroted. “Quite the opposite, actually! We hate pissing you off!”
“I used to believe that, boys. But after three straight months of wasting time, resources, and manpower to fix your screw ups, I’m beginning to think otherwise.”
“Sir, please let us explain! We’ve tried everything!” Coltrane begged, his legs threatening to give out under him.
“We’ve doubled patrols, upped the rackets, and moved shipments, but the bitch is always one step ahead of us, and she’s been cracking down on us hard these past few weeks!” Said Shakedown.
“Sounds to me, like you boys are more adept at producing excuses, rather than results.”
“But sir--!”
“Shut up, I ain’t done talking!”
Both stallions clamped their mouths shut immediately.
“You’ve become quite a liability lately. I think it’s time we reevaluated your place in my organization.”
As if given a silent order, the Diamond Dog unfolded his arms, then made his way behind the two stallions. Both were frozen in place, shaking like leafs as the hound loomed over them. His eyes bore an indifferent expression, but his shadow wreaked of malevolence.
“Shakedown,” Gazillion said, “you’ve been around for over fifteen years now, and have demonstrated a good degree of loyalty. Ever since I promoted you to run your own district, you’ve produced mixed results, thanks to your little vigilante problem. As for you, Coltrane, you’ve only been around for the better part of a decade, and that’s about it. You’ve done nothing noteworthy, you’ve proven yourself to be little more than muscle, and unreliable muscle at that.” Gazillion shifted his gaze to the Diamond Dog. “Orson, I think the verdict is clear.”
Before Coltrane even had the chance to open his mouth, Orson’s massive hand clamped itself around his muzzle and hauled him off his hooves. Orson brought Coltrane to eye level, baring his fangs.
“Have fun with your new toy.” Gazillion remarked.
Orson smiled at Coltrane, then bared his fangs as he growled. “Tell me, little pony, are you afraid?”
Tears poured from Coltrane’s eyes as he screamed and thrashed in Orson’s grasp.
“All I needed to hear.”
Orson carried the wailing Coltrane out of the room before slamming the door shut, leaving Shakedown alone with Gazillion and the Griffon. To Shakedown, it was the most frightening display of ruthlessness he had to witness. For the don, it was business, and such brutality contrasting with his nonchalant attitude only made him even more frightening.
“Shakedown, let me make something perfectly clear to you. I want you to pay very close attention, because I’m only going to say this once. You’ve got one more chance, got it? One. Last. Chance. Fail me again, and your next screw up will also be your last! Got it?”
Shakedown nodded vehemently. “Yes, sir! But what about Mare Do Well?”
“What are you, an idiot? It’s just one mare playing dress up! Do whatever you need to! Poison her, drown her, cut her throat, bash her head in, or fill her full of lead! I don’t care! When she shows up to shut you down, have a party waiting for her… and by party, I mean a whole lot of stallions who are gonna kill her! Am I clear?!”
“C-Crystal, sir!”
“Good,” Gazillion exhaled, then relaxed in his chair, lowering his voice to an even pitch. “Now get out of my sight.”
Shakedown scrambled through the door and out of the office. Orson walked in a few seconds later, wiping his mouth with a red-stained cloth.
“Think this vigilante is going to be a problem?” Orson asked.
Gazillion didn’t reply, instead taking out a glass and depositing a few rocks into it. He proceeded to silently pour himself a shot of scotch.
“That bad, sir?”
“You want a glass?” Gazillion simply said.
“No, thank you.”
“Suit yourself.” The don gulped down the shot, then grimaced as the alcohol flooded his taste buds. “It wasn’t so bad having her around, at first. She took out what was left of my competition, but now that I’m the only boss left in town, she’s set her sights on me. She’s quickly become the biggest pain in my flank.”
Orson arched an eyebrow. “Afraid for the business, sir?”
Gazillion snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Aluminum Metallic Gazillion ain’t afraid of some mare running around in a stupid costume. But she still complicates things. As annoying as the pigs can be, at least they’re only as troublesome as the law allows. The fact she operates outside the law, is what concerns me.” He rubbed his chin. “She’s been most active in Shakedown’s district, so I’ll bet she’s going to strike another one of his operations soon. It’s best we stop her now before she starts branching out. I’ve got a job for you, Orson. I’ve got a shipment coming up this week. I’ll have Shakedown undertake the exchange. If Mare Do Well shows up and Shakedown proves incapable of handling the situation, step in and take care of it yourself.”
Orson grinned. “With pleasure, sir.”
Chapter 2 - "A Long Day Ahead"
Chapter Two - “Long Day”
Belle trotted down the street in blissful content. Night had fallen, bathing the sky in dark blue and littered with stars. The weather was perfect; warm with a slight breeze. All felt right with the world. Belle looked to her left and smiled from ear to ear at the filly beside her.
Her daughter, Sunny, beamed in return.
“What did you think of the carnival, honey?” Belle asked, knowing the answer.
“It was amazing!” The filly chirped with delight. “Can we go again? Please, Mom?”
Belle laughed. “We will, next year.”
The two continued walking, unaware that they were passing by a dark alley. The world around them seemed to lose its color, the vibrant lights now dull and lifeless, and the slight breeze a cold chill that nipped at their necks.
“A local store owner was robbed earlier today.”
“The Mayor has received more death threats.”
“Gang wars all over Manehattan leave several hospitalized after being caught in the crossfire.”
Belle and Sunny traversed through the dark alley, only to be greeted by a pair of glowing, red eyes that stared at them with malevolent intent. Belle’s maternal instincts kicked into overdrive, and she pulled her frightened daughter close as the figure drew a weapon. The world appeared to move in slow motion as it raised the weapon at the pair.
“Hideous slaying of a group of charity workers last night.”
"A stallion was beaten to near-death, then robbed of his possessions and taxi wagon."
"Crime is at a record high in Manehattan! The city has gone to Tartarus and no pony seems to be doing anything about it!"
The last thing Belle heard, was her daughter’s screams before the ear-splitting BANG!
Belle shot up in her bed with a gasp, cold sweat glistening off her brow. She frantically looked around, before realizing she was in her bedroom, then let out a shaky sigh. Nightmares. Again. It was always the same one, too. She checked the clock mounted on her wall.
8:09 AM.
Five hours of sleep. That’s a new record, she thought humorlessly. After that episode, Belle knew there was no returning to the world of slumber. With a sigh, she climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom. She turned the nozzle and warm water sprayed from the faucet. Belle sat in the shower, letting the water run down her face and soak her mane. The bathroom was quickly coated in a relieving cloud of warm fog. Belle looked down at the drain, lost in thought.
"Two years," she said with a hint of reminiscent melancholy. "It's been two years since that night. Yet, I can still hear her voice, as if it were just yesterday."
As Belle let her mind wander further, the memories washed over her like the shower water.
"Look, Mommy, I made you a drawing!
"Wow, look at how many stars there are!"
"That puppy is so cute! Can we keep him?"
"That was so much fun! Can we do it again?"
"Happy Mothers Day, Mommy!"
"I love you, Mommy."
...
"Mommy, I'm scared."
A knock at the door made Belle jump in surprise, snapping her right back to reality.
"Belle? Belle, are you in there?" Amethyst’s voice called out from the other side.
"Yeah, it's me." Belle replied, "I'll be out in a few minutes."
"Alright, I'll be waiting downstairs. I'm making breakfast!"
"Okay, sounds good."
Belle could hear Amethyst walking away from the door, then she turned off the shower. She grabbed her towel and started to dry off. Belle stopped for a moment to the fog away from the mirror, so she could see herself. Belle's reflection showed her mane as a frazzled mess, still dripping with water, and her eyes were a slight tinge of red with small bags beneath them.
"Looking like a million bits, Belle." She murmured sarcastically. Belle finished drying herself off, then left the bathroom.
She descended the stairs, and entered the kitchen to see Amethyst standing near the oven. He magic moved the frying pan in a circular motion, cooking a few eggs. As the Unicorn was cooking, Gearbox sat at the counter, reading the newspaper with a plate of freshly buttered toast beside her.
Belle poured herself a mug of coffee before joining her friends at the counter.
"Belle, you haven't lived until you've tried one of my--" Amethyst sentence died the moment she turned around and saw Belle's appearance. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what happened to you?"
Gearbox lowered her newspaper to see what Amethyst was fussing about, only for her eyes to grow wide when she got a look at her fellow Earth Pony. "Damn, Belle, you look like Tartarus chewed you up and spit you out."
"Well, good morning to you, too." Belle deadpanned, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of her coffee. She caught the speculative looks her friends were shooting her way. "I didn't run out again, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just had a rough night.”
"’Rough’ would be putting it mildly." Gearbox retorted, and Amethyst made a sound of agreement.
"Well, if we're finished gawking at my complexion, can I have some food now? I'm quite famished." Belle said, wanting to move on from the matter.
"Why, of course!" Amethyst said, her jovial tone returning as she levitated a plate of omelettes and freshly made buttered toast.
"Here you are, a slice of my famous omelette from your truly!" the Unicorn added.
Gearbox leaned over the table and whispered into Belle’s ear, "Between you and me, Belle, I'd suggest you stick with the toast. Her omelette has more egg shells than it does yoke."
Belle faintly chuckled at the comment, then at Amethyst’s subsequent expression of annoyance.
"Hey, I'm standing right here you know!"
Gearbox laughed in response. "Oh, hush, Powers. You know I don't actually mean a word of it."
Belle interjected before the argument could continue, "How's the equipment coming along, Gear?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah! Did a systems check and everything's good to go! Not only will you have your own digital Encyclopedia, it'll also be able to identify any substance. Plus, it acts as a storage device, to keep track of whatever you find."
Belle smiled. "I knew you wouldn't let me down, Gear.”
"Like there was ever any doubt?" Gearbox rubbed her hoof on her chest, then looked at it with a confident smirk.
"Ahem."
Amethyst cleared her throat in an exaggerated manner, catching Belle and Gearbox’s attention.
"On a non-superhero related note, I've got a big announcement! This Friday, I'm hosting a party that marks the 100-year anniversary of Ace Power Industries!" She declared enthusiastically.
"Really? That's great, Amethyst." Belle grinned. Knowing how deeply Amethyst cared for her company, she didn’t expect anything less in preparation for this milestone.
"Can you believe it's been 100 years already?" The Unicorn asked. "To think I inherited it from my father, who inherited it from his father, who inherited it from his father, who won it from a friend in a game of poker!"
"You must have lost out on those poker genes, if your time in Los Pegasus is anything to go by." Gearbox snarked.
"Okay, that was a cheap shot. I was just starting!" Amethyst moaned in a weak attempt to defend herself.
"You've lost every poker game you've ever played, and abysmally at that."
"Well, I haven’t had much time to practice; as you know, I’ve been pretty busy running a multi-million bit company."
"She's never going to admit she just sucks at poker, will she?" Gearbox asked Belle.
"That's about as likely as you giving up swearing," Belle retorted.
The blue mare scoffed. "We know that ain't happening any Celestia damn time soon."
"My point exactly."
"Laugh it up, you two." Amethyst rolled her eyes. "Back on topic, I’d love it if my two best mares were able to attend this momentous event!"
Neither had to think about their answer.
"Eh, why not?" Gearbox shrugged. "I ain't got anything better to do… and who am I to
turn down free food?"
"Of course I'll go." Belle smiled softly. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Amethyst."
"Wow, I never took you for a formal partying type, Belle." Gearbox commented with a nudge to her shoulder.
"Not often, no." Belle admitted. “But Amethyst has done so much for me in the past year. It's the least I can do to return the favor.”
“Heh, fair enough.” Gearbox smirked.
"Oh, you girls are the best!” Amethyst clapped her hooves together, “I can't wait to make your dresses. But first thing’s first, we need to do something about that complexion of yours, Belle.”
“But Amethyst…” Belle whined over Gearbox’s laughter.
"No buts! When you’re done, it’s straight back to the tub for you, young lady!” Amethyst said, waving a hoof at Belle.
"Oh, this is rich! Belle being treated like a child just made my day!" Gearbox exclaimed through fits of laughter.
"Thank you, Gearbox, you really are a best friend a mare could ever ask for." Belle hissed through gritted teeth at her snickering companion. Then, a lightbulb went off in Belle’s head, bringing a sly smile to her lips.
"Say Amethyst, since you’re being ever so kind as to fix my appearance why not give Gearbox a makeover while you’re at it?"
Gearbox’s laughter ceased as her amused expression evaporated into one of horror.
"Oh that's a great idea Belle!" The unicorn clapped her hooves in agreement, "I've been meaning to take a crack at that mane of hers for years now. What do you say, Gearbox?"
Amethyst and Belle turned to face Gearbox, only to find an empty, spinning seat that was abandoned in a hurry. The omelette and toast were absent from the plate, indicating the meal had been devoured in a few bites. The sounds of rattling metal came from the workshop downstairs, and Gearbox returned to the kitchen with her tool bag saddled over her back, prepared for departure.
“Okay, this was fun and all, but I just remembered I’ve got some important commission work today,” Gearbox said, her head whipping about frantically in search of the door. She breathed a sigh of relief as she found her path to escape. “Ah, there ya are, ya sneaky bastard.”
“Don’t you think you should try getting some rest, Gear? You did work all night, after all.” Amethyst said with a tilt of her head.
“Nah, I’ll be fine. Sleep is for the weak anyway, Powers,” Gearbox said, adjusting her saddlebag.
“What's wrong, Gearbox? Afraid of the Powers Special Makeover?” Belle taunted.
Gearbox’s stride increased as she neared the door. “Okaygottagoseeyouguyslaterbye!”
The blue mare briskly disappeared out the door, leaving Amethyst and Belle staring in collective amusement.
“That mare really hates makeup, doesn’t she?” giggled Amethyst.
“About as much as you admitting you suck as poker.” Belle retorted.
“Hey!”
“It’s the hard truth, Amethyst. Live with it.”
“Just finish your breakfast, so we can work on that face of yours,” Amethyst said as she cut herself a piece of omelette.
Belle groaned, her face sinking in a deadpan expression. “I can already tell this is going to be a long day.”
Swift Force drifted between sleep and wakefulness with his head pressed against his pillow, a small puddle of drool lay near his open mouth. The Unicorn felt his internal alarm was going off but couldn't quite figure out why. Swift slowly cracked an eye open, only to recoil under the sting of the morning light filtered through his window beside the bed; the warm glow hadn't been deterred by the other apartments that surrounded Swift's room. He blinked and yawned.
“What time is it?” he mumbled drearily. He moved his eyes, forcing his head upright to glance at the clock on the nightstand.
“Eight,” he started, but his words stretched into a yawn, “Mmph… thirty. Okay.” His head thumped back against the pillow as his eyes drooped back shut. He then froze as his eyes snapped open.
“8:30?!” he exclaimed, his voice rising in panic as he checked the clock again. “Oh, crud, I slept in! I’m gonna be late!”
Swift wrestled with his covers, until he inadvertently fell over the side of the bed with an audible thud. Swift scrambled to his hooves, but tripped over the sheets still coiled around his hooves. He kicked himself free, then stumbled into the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, he quickly splashed his face with warm water, then combed his mane to make himself more presentable. He quickly applied a layer of deodorant, as well as some cologne for good measure.
Darting into the kitchen, Swift swiped a piece of bread from his pantry to scarf on, then retrieved his saddlebag on the way out the front door. He spilled onto the sidewalk, making a dash for down the sidewalk. As he rounded the corner, his momentum propelled him directly into a blue mare. The ensuing collision knocked both ponies to the ground. Swift’s belongings remained in his bag, which couldn’t be said for the blue mare’s things that now littered the ground.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the mare grumbled through gritted teeth. She shot Swift a heated glare while rubbing her head. “Learn to watch where you’re going, ya prick!”
Bullets of embarrassed sweat slid down Swift’s forehead.
“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry, ma’am! Here, let me help.” he said. Swift’s horn glowed as he collected the mare’s possessions and held them out as an appeasement offering.
The mare grabbed the tools from Swift and deposited them into her bag, mumbling curses as she did so.
Swift sighed, “I’m really sorry about that, miss…?”
“Gearbox,” the mare grunted, as she strapped on her saddlebag.
“Gearbox. I didn’t mean for that to happen, I’m just in a hurry.” Swift checked his watch. “Oh, man, I’ve gotta run! See ya, and sorry again!”
Swift darted past Gearbox, but the mare called out to him.
“Hey, twit, I wouldn’t go that way, if I were you!”
“What?” Swift turned his head but didn’t slow down. “Why?”
“See for yourself!” Gearbox yelled back, pointing down the road in front of Swift.
Initially confused, Swift looked forward as directed. He quickly realized what she meant when a muscular Earth Pony, wearing construction garbs, came into view. Swift immediately dug his hooves into the ground and skidded to a stop before he could be caught in another collision. The work pony continued on, unaware of Swift’s presence.
Gearbox trotted to a panting Swift.
“They’re doing construction down there. That road’s going to be closed for a few days,” she explained, “I guess you don’t read the papers much.”
“No, but I wish I did! I've got an interview coming up! Oh I'm gonna be so late!” Swift said, growing more frantic by the second.
Gearbox rolled her eyes with a sigh. She hated seeing others have panic attacks in front of her.
“Where and when is your interview?” she asked.
“At the Brass Hooves Newsletter, 9:30 sharp!” Swift replied in grief.
“Brass Hooves Newsletter, eh?” Gearbox stroked her chin. “That’s on the far side of Manehattan.”
“So, you can see why I need to be there as soon as possible!”
“Lucky for you, I know how to get around, so I can give ya a shortcut.” she mused.
“You do?” Swift stared at Gearbox, feeling a pang of relief. “Oh, thank Celestia! What kind of shortcut?”
“A rough one; emphasis on rough.”
Swift’s ears flattened with the acknowledgement that this wouldn’t be pleasant. “I’ll take what I can get at this point.”
Gearbox shrugged. “Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn ya. You got any bits?”
“Yeah?”
“How much?”
Swift did a quick accounting of his currency. “About 40 or so.”
“Good enough,” she said, “I know a pony that can get you to the Brass Hooves Newsletter in time. He's got his own taxi cart.”
“Thanks a bunch,” Swift nodded, pulling a few bits from a pocket in his saddlebag.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Gearbox dismissed, then she pulled out a whistle and blew into it.
Swift looked around, his anxiety increasing in the form of tapping his hoof along the concrete impatiently. There was a gust of wind as something came careening from the sky, its shadow enveloping the two ponies as it drew near.
“Hey, taxi!” Gearbox called out, beckoning the shadow over with a wave of her hoof.
The object circled around and landed in front of them. It was a taxi cart, but of a different variant. The cart was mounted on a cloud with an inverted color scheme of the traditional yellow and black. Mounting the taxi, was a burly Pegasus with the build to rival even the Captain of the Royal Guard.
“Since when did taxi carts fly?” Swift found himself thinking aloud.
“Since the princesses got fancy carriages,” Gearbox replied in a smart alec tone of voice, then addressed the driver. “Twit, meet my old pal Zeke. Zeke, meet twit.”
Zeke gave a nod of acknowledgement, then held his hoof out expectantly. Swift slammed the change into the waiting hoof and climbed into the cart.
“Brass Hooves Newsletter, ASAP.” He said.
As Zeke spread his wings, Swift decided to quickly indulge in his curiosity.
“Hey Gearbox, how come I don’t see more Pegasus taxis around?”
A mischievous grin formed along Gearbox’s face.
“You’re about to find out, twit.”
“It’s Swift,” the Unicorn corrected, “Swift Force. Remember that name because the whole city’s going to know it when--YIPE!”
Swift’s sentence devolved into incoherent screaming when Zeke shot into the sky at breakneck speed. The wind pulled back his face, his mane flapping in the wind as it howled in his ears.
Gearbox watched the cart disappear around the corner and continued on her way. “Whatever you say, twit.”
The cart shook violently as it glided through the air, soaring over the busy streets and maneuvering around skyscrapers. Swift could see his intended destination coming up fast. Too fast. His eyes expanded into dinner plates as the anxiety of revelation had seized him.
“We’re gonna crash,” he started quietly, only to grow in volume as they got closer and close with no sign of stopping. “We’re gonna crash. We’re gonna crash! WE’RE GONNA CRASH!”
Swift let out a shrill scream as Zeke suddenly nosedived toward the street below, only to make an arc and land with a thud directly in front of the Brass Hooves Newsletter. Swift put a hoof to his chest, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm his heart, which pounded against his ribcage in a panicked fury. Still shaking, he checked his watch.
9:20 AM.
“I still have time, I made it! Thanks for the ride!” he sputtered, vaulting over the side of the cart.
Zeke nodded, then disappeared into the skies once again. It took a moment for Swift to acclimate himself with the ground after his turbulent flight. He looked forward and put on his best smile, before pushing his way through the front doors.
Swift walked in the lobby, keeping his chin high in an effort to display confidence. He approached the counter and cleared his throat to attract the attention of the secretary from her paperwork.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Yes, my name is Swift Force. I’m here for an interview with Bobby Blabby?” Swift said.
The secretary gestured to a nearby seat. Swift patiently sat down, awaiting his interview. Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he’d caught a brief glance of pity from the mare at the desk. He shrugged it off and leaned back in his seat, his confidence beginning to recover as he smiled to himself. If he could handle the stress, this interview would be a breeze. But that certainty evaporated when he heard a shout coming from behind the office door.
“Garbage, garbage, it’s all garbage!”
A shiver wormed its way up Swift’s spine as he grimaced from the intensity of the voice.
“You, you, and especially you… GET OUT! And hang your heads in shame, because you’re absolutely despicable!”
Three ponies exploded through the door and ran down the hall as if their lives depended on it. Swift’s eyes were locked in the direction of the fleeing employees, then felt his heart working against his chest again. Sweat formed along his brow as he swallowed.
“That looks like my cue.”
Standing up, Swift turned to enter the office, but the enraged voice froze him in his tracks. He bent over, catching a view of the office. A brown coated stallion with a black mane and small mustache held a styrofoam cup in a magical vice, crumpling it in his hand and allowing its contents to leak onto his desk. The stallion didn’t pay it any mind, too focused on the shaking mare before him.
“Who do you think you are?! Why in Celestia’s name did you get me decaf?! You think it’s easy to keep this sunny disposition without my cup of joe?! Get out of here, and don’t come back until you have real coffee, instead of this Ponyville import crap!”
The stallion slammed the cup into a trash can beside his desk with authority, while the mare sped out of the office, apologizing all the way as she shoved past Swift. Once again, Swift watched the young employee flee from the office, then turned to look back at the stallion as he sunk into his chair. His eyes honed in on Swift like a hawk, his nose scrunched in annoyance.
“Who the heck are you?” he asked gruffly.
Swift cleared his throat, trying to sound composed. He sputtered a reply, “U-Um, I’m Swift Force, sir. I heard you had a job opening, so I came for an interview.”
The stallion looked at the clock on his desk.
“Oh, yeah, you’re my 9:30. I almost forgot. Alright, come on, pull up a chair. Let’s get this over with.”
Swift breathed a sigh of relief and sat in the chair adjacent to the desk.
“So, what makes you think your sorry flank deserves to work here, at the Brass Hooves Newsletter?”
“Well,” Swift rubbed the back of his head, “I have a major in photography and journalism, I’m handy with a camera and pen, and I graduated from Manehattan College.”
“Is that all?” Bobby prodded, disinterest infecting his tone.
For a moment, Swift internally panicked, and it took every ounce of his being to keep a calm demeanor. He’d rehearsed this several times in his head, but didn’t expect such an apathetic response.
“I am also determined to get a story,” he quickly added, “Even if I have to crawl through a gutter to get it. If it's a story worth being told, I'll throw myself at it!”
“Is that right?” Bobby asked, sounding amused by the gesture.
“Um, yes?” Swift said, albeit with less certainty than earlier. Bobby’s inflection had killed what little confidence he’d just built up.
Bobby’s faux smile disappeared, replaced with another callous expression. “Kid, do you have any idea how many nitwits walk through that door and feed me the same crap you’re spewing right now? I'll tell you, more than several decades worth. What makes you any different?”
Swift surprised himself with how fast and firm he responded, “Because I can actually do it, I just need a chance to actually prove it!”
Bobby smirked, “A chance, huh? How about a wager instead?”
“What kind of wager?”
“One that determines whether or not you have a future here,” Bobby stood from his chair and walked toward the window and surveyed the city before him, “For weeks, every newspaper in town’s been trying to get the police to disclose the details on the masked vigilante who’s been running loose in Manehattan. So far, they've been tight lipped about the whole thing. If you can get me the scoop, I'll hire you on the spot. If not, then you can kiss your chances of working here goodbye,” Bobby turned to face Swift once more, “So, what do you say, Swift?”
Swift grinned, “I say it’s a done deal!”
“Then it’s settled,” Bobby returned to his chair, “The chief of police is scheduled to address the situation at a press conference taking place at City Hall at noon. You have twenty-four hours.”
“I won’t let you down, sir! I’ll get on it right away!” Swift hopped out of the seat and exited the office with renewed resolved and a mission.
Bobby leaned back in his seat, a smirk adorning his face.
“Let’s see if you’re worth a damn, kid.”
Author's Note
Sorry for the extremely long delay. Life got a little busy, I had to move out of state and spend a good deal of time finding a job and acclimating to it all. But rest assured, I haven't forgotten about this story, and King and I don't intend to let it die anytime soon. We hope to have another update ready for you much sooner this time. Consider this our Halloween treat to you all. 
