The Eyes of Discord

Dark Flare crept through the dimly lit stone hallways of Canterlot castle, far below the levels that most ponies ever saw.  She hadn’t encountered any guards as of yet, though she had been forced to dash down several side halls at the sound of patrolling hooves.  Each time, her heart had exploded with fear of discovery.  Each time, she had gone unnoticed.

Flare confidently strode forward, her eyes now focused solely on a door directly ahead of her.  From behind the door, the faint clanking of metallic objects could be heard.  She glanced around one final time, making certain that nopony would interfere.  All she saw was the gray stone of the castle, and the dull glow of torches.  Flare placed a hoof on the door of interest, a wooden construct.  She felt a surge of adrenaline run through her, though she tried to be cautious.  Many operations had failed for lack of attention to detail.

Flare’s right forehoof slid forward, and came to rest upon the door handle.

Was this really going to be this easy?

She applied pressure to the handle, its copper structure out of place among the rest of the door’s wood.  It slid down, and the door pushed half an inch inward. It typical Canterlot security.  Flare slowly pushed the door open, trying hard not to make a sound.  Thankfully, it appeared that what the Canterlot crew lacked in security, they made up for in maintenance;  The hinges were well oiled.

The interior of the room glowed with a strange, artificial light.  Flare eyed the light sources with curiosity.  The glowing glass bulbs dangled from the ceiling, casting light around the entire area.  She ignited her horn for a moment, trying to magically inspect the devices.  Though they gave off a fair amount of energy, none of it seemed to shout ‘magic’ at her.

How intriguing… I may have to… acquire one of these devices.

Flare shook her head, annoyed that she had allowed herself to get too focused on one object.  Stuff like that gets you killed.  She scanned the room, panicking, as the light’s imprint slowly faded from her eyes.  Around her, tables stood, bearing all sorts of fascinating glass and metal gadgetry.  Flare finished her survey of the room, and let out a faint sigh of relief.  The room was barren of life, except for the assassin herself.

Her eyes flicked to another door at the far end of the room, this one slightly ajar.  She heard the sounds of more than one ponies working behind it.  Wordlessly, Flare reached into her saddle bags, removing her armament.  She felt her heart began to beat faster.  The black object slid from her side without a sound, cradled in her gentle aura.  She looked the unfamiliar weapon over once more.

Flare had been instructed in its use, but still, the object seemed foreign to her.  Which, she supposed, it was.  The side of the weapon bore an interesting engraving; several numbers and letters, and then the single word.  Berretta.  Her magical grip flicked the small switch that adorned the black piece of machinery.  Flare took a confident step towards the door.  It would all be over soon.

<(^)>

Alex looked over his work.  It was, of course, a cannon.  Not one that would stand a chance back on Earth, but a cannon none the less.  The barrel inside had been rifled, by Alex’s own hooves, and the large metallic tube was now secured onto a wooden cart.

Technically, even though the weapon was incredibly basic, it would still serve its lethal purpose.  Interest in military affairs had spiked through the roof after Equestria had nearly been demolished two years previously.

“So, you really think that this one is going to work?” Metalspark rubbed the metal surface with a rag, earning a shine from the metal.

“I already told you,” Alex carefully scooped some black powder out of a nearby container. “We’ve put so many reinforcements into this stupid thing, if it blows up in our faces again, I will personally eat the remains.”

“I’m going to hold you to that you know.” Metalspark grinned at his friend.

“I know you will.” Alex said, “That’s why I really hope that this one is going to work.”

Alex glanced to the right of the cannon, taking inventory on the table that held the equipment for firing it.

Let’s see, black powder, ramrod, cleaning rags, fuses…

If he’d still possessed fingers, he would have snapped them.

“Shells!”

Alex turned his gaze over to a crate on a distant shelf.  It was simply marked; ‘MUNITIONS.’ He set down the scoop he had been using to transfer black powder from the larger storage container into the smaller travel pouch.

“Here, Metalspark, can you get the rest of the powder?  I’m gonna go grab some ammo.”

The other unicorn nodded, and took a step towards the container of black powder.  Meanwhile, Alex strode over to the shelf that held the needed projectiles.  He carefully slid the shell laden box from its place, watching as it floated lightly before him.

If only I’d always been able to do this…

BANG

Alex jumped, dropping the box of shells, startled at the sudden noise.

Oh crap, the black powder!

Alex whirled around, preparing to extinguish a burning pile of explosives.

“Metalspark!  You ok buddy?”

He stopped.  The other unicorn’s horn slowly stopped glowing, and the scoop of black powder crashed to the ground.  A plume of dark dust rose from the impact zone, staining the air.  Alex stared at Metalspark.  A trickle of blood ran down the side of the pony’s head, and then he collapsed.

As Metalspark’s body crumpled to the floor, it revealed the dark figure standing behind him.  Alex stared at the deep black pony, frozen in place.  Fear had not yet set in for Alex, merely confusion, and concern.  The new pony turned its attention from the fallen worker, focusing now on Alex.  Alex broke free of his shocked state, and threw himself behind a nearby workbench.  As he did, another loud crack rent the air.

A few feet above him, a beaker of liquid shattered, spraying a red fluid out across the room.  Alex flinched as a few drops landed on his hide, and felt his heart sink as the smell of cherries filled his nostrils.

It took me so long to get all the ingredients right too…

Perhaps thoughts of experimental energy drinks were inappropriate in life threatening situations, but weird things tended to happen when under…

Wait… is that a…

BANG

Alex reflexively pressed himself up against a stone cooling slab, glancing around for anything that might be used as a weapon.

Great, so now ponies have guns.  I wonder when that happened?

Alex fixed his eyes on a nearby jug, his horn beginning to emit energy.  The jug glowed softly, and then levitated a few centimeters off its shelf.  Alex could hear the hoof steps of the other equine, treading across the room, trying to get a line of sight on the cowering unicorn.

Alex took a deep breath, and then sprung from his hiding spot, flinging himself across the room.  Mid flight, the gray unicorn’s eyes found his assailant.  He twisted his mouth in a shout, releasing the pent up energy in his horn.  The magic channeled through the air, dragging the jug with it.  The jug shot across the expanse of the room, gleaming with a wicked magical glow.  As Alex skidded to a stop next to a stone furnace, the jug impacted the black unicorn, sending her crashing to the floor.

Alex tensed to throw himself behind the furnace, but paused.  The other pony did not move.  Cautiously, keeping a careful eye on the fallen assassin, Alex crept up to Metalspark, grabbing the other ponies foreleg.  He held it for several seconds, before allowing it to flop back to the floor.

Alex sat back, defeated.  Slowly, he shook his head, and then left the dead pony where he lay.  A resolute yet weary look on his face, he continued over to the black unicorn.  He could now clearly see that it was a mare.  Alex watched as her chest faintly rose and fell.  He strode up to her and noted the weapon that lay beside her.

He grimaced, looking at the piece of black steel.

And where did you come from, eh?

He presumed that it must have been left on the battlefield, after the war, two years ago.  They had actually assumed that not all human technology was found.  A rather large amount of guns, ammo, different electronics, and even a working armored personal carrier had all been recovered from the battlefield.  The items had been inventoried, and then locked up, hidden from the rest of the world.  This one must have fallen through the cracks… along with who knows what else.

Alex leaned in, taking a closer look at the unconscious unicorn.

I suppose that I should get something to tie her up with… wait.

He hadn’t noticed it up until then, but it almost looked like her horn was still…

“Ugh!”

He was slammed into the ground, the black unicorn suddenly pivoting over him, pushing the gun into the back of his head.

“Where are the blueprints, colonel.  I would prefer to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

The voice sounded like a snake hissing in his ears, laced with menace, and able to bring dread to the strongest of hearts.  Also, she was well informed, he wasn’t wearing his uniform, she had known his rank in advance.  Alex grunted a curse in reply, drawing a knock on the side of his head.

“I’m not messing around here, buddy.  Where are the plans?  You know what I’m talking about.  How does all of your crazy crap work?”

Alex turned his head to the side, allowing him to speak more freely.

“What are you going to do if I don’t tell you?  Shoot me?  Then what, are you going to dig through the entire room, trying to find the right paperwork, even though the royal guards will probably be here within three minutes?”  The other unicorn hesitated, and Alex cast about the room, looking for something to use against his captor.  His eyes settled on a small pouch, just five feet to his left.  He instantly recognized it as a powder horn.  It must have fallen when Metalspark… he couldn’t think about him.

The mare got over her brief mental stupor.

“I don’t need you.  The guards probably just think that the shots were normal parts of your work.”

Alex’s mind began to race, drawing on the spell that Twilight had taught him, more than a year before.  He had done it once before then… but that had been an accident.

“Goodbye, Mr. Alex.”

The world seemed to move in slow motion.  Alex’s horn glowed brilliantly, while the assassin manipulated her own magical grip on the gun.  The trigger slid smoothly backwards, sending the hammer crashing down on the shell casing.  The powder within ignited, and propelled the projectile down the barrel, straight into… the empty space where Alex had been a split second earlier.

“Wha…?”

The black unicorn spun wildly, searching for the new location of her target.  Alex appeared in a flash of light on the far end of the room.  She focused in on him, bringing the gun to bear.  Alex merely raised a forehoof, waving.  She hesitated for a moment, confused by his friendly gesture.  Then, the small pouch of black powder exploded.  The explosion knocked her to the ground, and sent the handgun to soar through the air.  Alex caught the weapon neatly in his magical hold, levitating it over to himself.

Now comforted that the weapon was under his control, he turned to face his assailant.  He saw nothing.  Alex frantically glanced about the room, afraid that he was about to be ambushed.

No… not there… then where the… There!

He pointed the small firearm at the unicorn, just as she scampered out the door.  Instinctively, he fired a shot anyway, chipping the door frame.  Frusterated, he charged out after the unicorn, trying to draw a bead on her.  As he entered the second room of his work area, Alex was just in time to see the door slam, and a few papers flutter to the floor.

Wait… papers… Crap!

Alex saw a wooden box lying sideways on the floor, papers scattered around it.  Far less papers than there should have been.  It was no setback to him, as he had most of the designs committed to memory.  On the other hoof, what a misguided pony might do with some of those designs, that was a disturbing thought.

Alex dashed out of his offices, into the hallway.  The assassin was nowhere to be seen.

“Guards!”

Alex shouted, “Guards, intruder in the castle, intruder in the castle!”

As armored stallions charged down the hallway, no one stopped to notice the small black shadow slip into one of the side passageways.

<(^)>

The nondescript delivery truck drove up the pentagon, its headlights cutting through the darkness of the early night.  A small entourage of two marines, two secret service agents, and a man in a four star general’s uniform were waiting for the truck.  The plain white vehicle slid to a stop, and opened its large rear door.  Two men slid down from the vehicle, while two secret service agents remained inside.  They nodded at the other pair of agents, who acknowledged them.

The general shook hands with the first man out of the truck.

“Mr. President!  Let’s get you inside shall we?”

“Whatever you say Quentin.” President Anderson smiled, walking alongside his hold RIO from long past years.

Daniel quickly fell in stride with them, while the secret service and marines trailed behind them.  Quentin chuckled, looking at the other two high ranking men.

“Well, we certainly have moved up in the world since two years ago, haven’t we?”

“Don’t you forget it!”

Anderson shook his head, smiling.

“If it wasn’t for me working myself half dead in front of congress, we may have never gotten Nickelson impeached… and behind bars.  At least, relatively.”

The corrupt old president was kept under house arrest, not allowed to leave the premises unless ordered to.

“What do you mean, working yourself half dead?”

Quentin scoffed.

“If you hadn’t spent so much time getting popular along the way, half my annual salary says you wouldn’t be president.”

“So like, twenty bucks then?”

The three men laughed lightly, now entering the huge five sided military command center.  The doors were held open by additional marines.  Daniel took the lead of the group, leading them through several hallways, and finally to a large metal door.

“I’m afraid I’m not allowed past this point.” Quentin nodded at the door.

“Don’t you sort of… run this place?” Anderson pointed out.

“So?  Just because I keep giving everyone permission to order takeout and make sure the floors stay clean doesn’t mean I get to do anything cool.  I’ll see you in an hour or two.”

Anderson shook hands with the general, and then waited while Daniel let a small panel near the door scan his eye.  The door slid open soundlessly, and Daniel motioned Anderson through.  Anderson walked through the open portal, followed closely by the two secret service agents, while Daniel closed the door behind them.  Anderson watched as the door slid shut, blocking Quentin and the two marines from view.  Then he turned, looking at the only other notable object in the dimly lit room.  An elevator.

Daniel calmly walked up to the elevator controls, and entered a complex combination into the number pad.  The doors of the elevator opened, this time with significantly more whirring and hissing than the earlier door.  To Anderson’s surprise, he saw that the doors were a full foot thick.  Daniel entered the elevator, and then motioned for him to do the same.  Anderson quickly traversed the short distance to the elevator, flanked by the secret service personal.  Upon entrance, the think metal blast doors ground shut behind them.

Daniel sighed, and then placed his hand on a button marked “twenty three.” It was the last button on the elevator control panel.

“You have to understand,” The head of the CIA stated quietly, “that what you are about to see is top secret, completely confidential.  That especially goes for you two.” He nodded at the secret service personal. “There are only 126 people who know about what you will soon see.  Sixty nine of them are dead.  One of them was the designer of the pentagon, George Bergstrom.  The rest is made up of every president since the twenties, about sixteen secret service agents, every head of the CIA, since the agency was founded in forty seven, eight government construction workers sworn to secrecy, a bunch of scientists, and a handful of military officers chosen to oversee this, and other shady operations.  One of the saddest things is… we didn’t even know what it was until a couple years back.  That being said… enjoy.”

His hand pushed the elevator button, and the little room began to sink downwards.  After a little over a minute spent in silence, the doors opened once again.  This time, into a well lit room, filled with computers, a couple microwaves, a fridge or two, and some more doorways.  Anderson glanced into one of the side doors.  Living quarters, rather nice ones too.

“Good evening Mr. President.” Anderson quickly focused in on the source of the voice.  It was a man in a captain’s uniform.  Other than the mark of his rank, he bore no recognizable emblems or identification.

“Good evening, Captain…”

Anderson waited for the captain’s name.  He merely smiled.

“Did Dan there tell you how many people know about this here facility?”

“Yes…” Anderson eyed the man curiously.

“Well, let me just put it this way, the amount of people who know my name is substantially less than that.  The amount of people who know my name and are now dead is substantially more.  So, for convenience’s sake, let’s just call me Captain Scriptorium, alright?”

Anderson looked over than man, who looked to be in his early forties, and finally held out his hand.

“It’s good to meet you Mr.Scriptorium.”

Scriptorium smiled wider, shaking the president’s hand.

“It’s good to meet you too, Mr. President.”

Scriptorium then reached into one of his pockets, removing a key.

“Now, I do believe that you came here to see something,” he spun the key lazily around his hand.

Scriptorium grinned at him.  “Correct?”

Anderson nodded, his curiosity now growing to a huge gnawing sensation.

“Correct.”