The morning light filtered through the front lobby of the Ponyville Police Department. It was unusually quiet, with no creature to be seen save for the receptionist and two mares near the front doors.

The light shined off Beacon Fire’s golden armor which covered her from chest to hooves. A trio of silver stars were lined across the front of the chest plate, denoting her rank. Her normal flowing mane was tied back into a strict ponytail. A single-hoofed broadsword was sheathed at her side – its golden handle and guard matched her armor, and a round fire opal was seated in the pommel.

She looked to Cold Case, who had taken to one of the seats. Her eyes were slightly red and distant and she was staring straight ahead. The scent of cherry and pine hung in the air from her constant smoking, and even though her pipe was now empty, she kept nibbling on the tip.

Beacon looked at her sympathetically and sighed. “You don’t have to come, Cold,” she said softly. “I can handle this on my own, you and your department have done enough and have been through enough already.”

Cold’s look hardened to a scowl as she pulled out the purple coin, tilting it in the sunlight so it glinted off the 10. “No,” she said quietly. “I’ve let my problems push me around enough. I’m coming with you on this.” She pocketed the coin and looked up at her.

Beacon nodded, then turned to the sound of the front doors opening. Phillip and Daring rushed inside, followed quickly by Frost Glide. The thestral gave the Lieutenant General a brief salute before hurrying down the hall and disappearing into the briefing room.

“What’s the news?” Beacon asked. Cold got to her feet, pocketing her pipe. Her black coat shifted to reveal the presence of body armor underneath.

“Looks like Coin was telling the truth,” Phil reported. “There’s signs of a lot of recent foot traffic, griffons from the feathers we found.”

“It’s in the basement,” Daring continued. “There’s some loose floorboards that are cleaner than the ones around them. Underneath there’s a passage big enough for a griffon – if my memory serves me right, should be a straight shot to the Ponyville Marketplace.”

“Then we most likely have our target. Excellent work.” She turned to Cold. “Let’s go debrief your department.”

Cold nodded, and the group headed down the hall and through the door Frost had gone through.

For the second time, Beacon and Cold made their way to the stage, where Captain Hewn Oak, Frost Glide, and Pineapple Pizza were waiting. Officers and staff filled the seat once again, though more seemed to be wearing body armor and a few had their riot shields with them. The room went quiet as the Lieutenant General walked up the aisle alongside the police chief, armor clinking with each step.

As Cold joined Captain Oak and Phillip and Daring took their seats, Beacon walked up to the podium. The golden helmet that completed her armor sat on the podium facing the audience.

Beacon cleared her throat. “Ladies, gentlecolts, creatures of Equestria,” she addressed. “I want to start by saying thank you for putting your lives on the line and for helping us in our investigation. Your city is in good, and capable, hooves.” She glanced at Cold, whose face remained stoic.

“As of this morning, we have identified the possible hideout for Iron Claw and the remainder of her cohorts. It is located within what you all know as the Under, in the old Ponyville Marketplace. It will be dangerous to get to, and even more dangerous to confront these griffons.

“If any of you wish to join our raid, you may, but I don’t want any of you to feel pressured to. You have all done more than enough already. With a single call, I can have a platoon of royal guards here by this afternoon and they will help me finish this matter. Those who wish to join me, please speak now.”

Silence lingered over the crowd for a few seconds. Eyes glanced between one another in debate. Cold Case looked out over the crowd and did her best to keep her icy mask firmly in place – but it didn’t stop the ice in her stomach.

Then, Prowl stood up, causing the rest to look at her. She puffed out her chest and gave a salute.

“With all due respect, Lieutenant General, these are just some griffs with guns,” she said. “We’ve handled worse than that. I’ll go with you.”

It didn’t take another second for Bumblebee to stand up and salute as well. “I go where my partner goes,” he said. “For the chief.”

Phillip smiled as he and Daring rose to their hooves. He nodded to Cold. “For the chief.”

“Pain in the ass as she may be,” Daring said with a smirk and saluting with her wing.

“Ah, Tartarus,” Red muttered next to them, getting to his hooves. “For the chief.”

One by one, patrol officers and detectives rose from their seats one by one, each proclaiming in their own way “For the chief.” When the proclamations were done, every active duty officer was standing at attention.

Beacon looked on in surprise, as did Cold. Her mask slipped as she stared in wide-eyed surprise before quickly composing herself.

“Then from this moment until victory, you are under my command,” Beacon said. “And, it goes without saying, a part of Equestria’s finest. For Police Chief Cold Case and for Equestria!” She raised a hoof in the air and the crowd cheered and stomped.

“Yeehaw!” Deputy Braeburn cheered from the back, waving his hat in the air.

Cold shrunk back to try and hide her embarrassed blush and failed. Captain Hewn Oak crossed over and held out his hoof to shake, which Beacon promptly did.

“May the Princess watch over us, and drive the snakes from their den,” he said firmly.

Beacon nodded firmly. She levitated her helmet over, carefully fishing her ponytail through a hole in the back while sliding it over her horn and ears. When it was finally in place, her ponytail looked like a fiery knight’s plume.

“Let’s start hunting our snakes,” she said.

The Saddlebags Brothel still stood in one of Ponyville’s older neighborhoods out of sheer ignorance to time and the city’s lengthy and costly list of condemned buildings in need of demolition.

It could’ve been an elegant mansion once, its three stories towering over the suburban homes around it. However, its paint had long since faded and peeled and every single window was broken. All that remained of the red lamp by the front door was a few jagged shards. The front porch was pockmarked with holes and its railing was gone. The brothel’s sign lay propped up against the porch by the front stoop, barely legible.

The neighbors were surprised with a fleet of police cruisers and vans pulled up to the residence, lights flashing. They began to scatter and head inside when the cops poured out, dressed in body armor and brandishing assault rifles and riot shields. Captain Hewn Oak arrived along with a pair of ambulances, their paramedics awaiting on standby.

Beacon, Cold, Phillip, and Daring piled out of Beacon’s Commander Super Six and headed for the front door, followed by some of the detectives.

“We should make sure the building’s clear before we head into the basement,” Phil said, looking up at the old structure.

Red looked to the front door. Numerous chains crisscrossed the battered oak door, each locked by a padlock. A sign declaring the building as condemned hung over the peep hole.

“Easier said than done,” he remarked. “Unless the back entrance is any different.”

Matchstick rolled her eyes and pointed at the various broken windows on the first floor. “Take your pick,” she said flatly.

Red grumbled under his breath and motioned to the gathered officers. He walked around to one of the front windows and smashed out its remains with his riot shield. Another pegasus officer and a thestral officer walked over and the trio flew inside.

“Police!” came Red’s muffled bark. “Anyone in here come out with your hooves up!”

The gathered ponies waited with baited breath. After several minutes of rattles and thumps from within, Red and the officers reemerged.

“Upper floors are clear,” he reported.

“Alright, basement’s around the back,” Daring said, walking around the side of the house. The rest of the group followed.

The basement entrance was a pair of old wooden doors next to the back porch, slanted over a flight of stone stairs. The chains that should’ve been wrapped around the metal handles lay in the unkempt grass, rusted and broken.

Beacon motioned to the officers, who raised their shields and weapons. Amber magic gripped the doors and flung them open, letting loose the stale air of rot and earth. The officers descended like an armored tidal wave.

“Police!” Flash barked from within the ranks. “Come out with your hooves up!”

No one responded. The uneven floorboards protested the police’s intrusion. The wooden support beams around them groaned occasionally. What had been the wooden staircase was nothing more than a handrail dangling against the wall, leaving the door hanging over a precipice.

There were signs of recent activity, however. It looked like there had been a rush job to sturdy the support beams by nailing new wood onto the old, and there was litter scattered about in the corners.

Sure enough, against the western wall was a section of floor that looked disturbed, the dust long dissipated. If one focused their sense of smell, the earthy scent wafted from those floorboards.

“We’re clear,” Red barked. Several unicorn officers lit their horns to light up the basement as Cold and Beacon descended.

“Alright, here’s the plan,” Beacon said, turning to the officers. “Captain Glide, Officers Prowl and Bumblebee, stay up here and guard the house. Keep your radios on and make sure no one slips in on our six.”

“You can count on us, Lieutenant General,” Prowl said, she and Frost giving salutes before the trio went back up the stairs.

“The rest of you, phalanx in a wedge,” Beacon continued. “Means stick close together and keep your shields up until we get to the target and keep an eye out for ambushes.” She turned to Daring. “What’s the marketplace like?”

“It was a walled-in space, roughly square, with four entrances,” Daring said, shutting her eyes as she played back her memory. “There’s no gates, but they probably have the entrances fortified. There’s another tunnel on the opposite side, but I don’t know where it leads.”

Beacon paused for a moment. “Alright, here’s how we’ll hit it,” she said. “Sergeant Pizza and I will helm the attack on their front gate, the gate closest to the tunnel. We’ll draw as many of them as we can. A smaller secondary group will make their way around the Marketplace with their shields up and block off the back tunnel.

“Chief Case, Detective Finder, Detective Do, Detective Red, Detective Flash, you’ll be the secondary group. Take a few officers with you. Stay low and try not to draw their attention.” Beacon turned to the officers. “If anyone gets hit down there, raise your shield and do what it takes to get them out of there and to the ambulances – I’ll not have anyone dying in a hole, am I clear?”

Most of the officers murmured affirmatives. Beacon nodded firmly and ignited her horn. The floorboards covering the entrance were flung to the side, and the Lieutenant General led the way in, followed by Cold Case and the officers.

The tunnel was indeed wide enough for a griffon, but barely so. The gradually sloping path seemed well traveled, with talon prints overlapping back and forth in the dirt. The officers found them stretched rather thin to make their way inside, the last few keeping their shields on their back and glancing over their shoulders.

“Tight fit,” Daring remarked. Phillip grunted.

“How much further until the Marketplace?” Cold asked without looking behind her, her horn sparking with blue magic.

“Not too far,” Daring replied. “This is a shallower part of the Under.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Flash said, glancing at the stone around them.

“Easy there, jackaroo,” Phil muttered. “Shouldn’t be long now.”

They saw the Marketplace before they got out of the tunnel – multiple glowing orbs like a dozen monster eyes. Beacon and the other unicorns snuffed out their horns as they quietly exited the tunnel, crouching low.

The Ponyville Marketplace was indeed four cobblestone walls, with a partially crumbled tower at each corner that nearly reached the ceiling of the cavern it resided in. What had once been a welcoming sight to ponies of old now looked like a monster waiting to pounce.

Numerous rocks had fallen between the tunnel entrance and the front gate, which as Daring had suspected was barricaded with stones and broken wooden debris. The golden glows they had seen were lanterns hanging from the battlements of the walls and by the front entrance.

The officers huddled up behind the rocks. Beacon, Cold, Phillip, and Daring took one closer to the Marketplace as Red hoof-selected the remainder of the secondary group. Wheellock and Braeburn, both now armed with a scoped Summerfield Rifle, dropped to their bellies and took aim at the towers.

“Think you can handle that?” Wheellock whispered to him.

Braeburn smirked and tipped his hat. “I practice in my spare time. Point out an apple on a tree and I can get it for ya,” he replied.

As Red came over with a trio of officers, he nodded to Beacon. She looked to the others gathered with her and took a deep breath, letting out slowly.

“Time to make some noise,” she whispered.

Slowly and quietly, she rose to her hooves and approached the front gate. Her horn started sparked and blazed, and an amber magic shield with a flame emblazoned on the front of it materialized before her. The amber haze spread outward until a nearly-spherical bubble hovered over the group, wisps appearing on the surface as if it were aflame like a small sun.

“Iron Claw!” Beacon’s voice echoed through the cavern. Even the officers tensed from its tone. “This is Lieutenant General Beacon Fire of the Equestrian Army. This is your one and only chance to surrender peacefully. Lay down your arms and come out with your talons up!”

There was a brief commotion from within the fortified compound – no doubt griffons scrambling at Beacon’s sudden appearance. Clicks and clacks leaked out of the windows, and gun barrels started poking out of windows and along the battlements.

A lone griffon stood atop one of the parapets, glaring down at Beacon Fire with a single golden eye – an eyepatch covering her left. She gripped the cloak that covered her body with one talon and tore it off, dropping it behind her.

Iron Claw’s namesake glinted malevolently on her good set of talons – equally matched by her scythe-like hook for her other hand. Her brown and white feathers were sparse in places, showcasing the battle scars that decorated her like tattoos. In any case, most of her other feathers were hidden under armor plating – the forearm pieces in particular had bent claws for breaking weapons and tearing into victims.

Iron Claw flared her wings, both prosthetics. “Give me Cold Case,” she said, her tone icy. “Or I will make you ponies suffer.”

Phillip glanced at Cold, who swallowed quietly and readied her service weapon. Sweat dripped down her stoic mask.

“I’m afraid that’s not part of the deal,” Beacon replied sternly.

“Then die!” Iron Claw spat, disappearing behind the parapet.

And then all hell broke loose.

Muzzle flashes lit up the Marketplace. The air filled with lead. The shield pulsed with every bullet it broke apart. Only white hot rounds from the incendiary BARs made it through. They hissed and warped the surrounding air, melting into the ground mere inches around Beacon.

Gritting her teeth, Beacon retreated behind the rocks as bullets pinged around her. “Hold your fire!” she barked.

Officers poked their rifles around the rocks, ducking from the incendiary rounds. Over the gunfire, grunts and cries of pain reached Beacon’s ears. They twitched, and she grimaced.

“Incendiaries are in the windows,” she called back to Wheellock and Braeburn, grunting as she maintained the shield and opened holes for the snipers. She turned to Phillip and the others. “After they’re done, we can make cover for you.”

Phillip nodded. Daring gulped, ducking as bullets whizzed past her head. Cold took deep breaths, trying to steady her hammering heart.

“Acknowledged!” Wheellock barked. Through the hole in the shield, she leveled her weapon towards one of the windows. Rounds kicked sand up in her face, but Wheellock’s only reply was to exhale and tighten her grip on the Summerfield. Her aim wouldn’t be thrown off that easily.

Summerfield let out a sharp retort, Braeburn’s following not long after.

Silence.

“Cover!” Beacon ordered. “Get the injured back!”

A few officers swapped their guns for their shields as they reached for their fallen comrades and started to drag them to safety. It wouldn’t be long before the griffons would start firing again. One officer was coughing up blood from a shot that had went past his vest. His partner urgently whispered encouragement as he pulled him back.

Pineapple offered a pair of grenades to Matchstick, and the two of them dashed from one rock to another. Matchstick’s hooves shook as she cradled the explosives near her chest. One slipped. Although Matchstick caught it before it fell, her hooves never stopped trembling.

“Nervous?” Pineapple asked with a breathless laugh.

“Nah!” Matchstick grinned. “I disarm explosives for a living; not often I get to use one!”

“Just pull the pin and aim for the wall,” Pineapple replied.

To demonstrate he pulled the pin on one grenade and lobbed it over the rock. It detonated into a large fogbank of white clouds against the left side of the wall. Matchstick fiddled with the pin on hers and used her magic to fire it towards the right side, where it blanketed the wall in another cloud.

“Aww, not frags?” Matchstick whined. Pineapple just grinned back.

The last two grenades ended up at the center, obscuring the barricaded gate. The griffon gunfire quieted down. In its place were curses, complaints, and commands to pick targets carefully.

“Shields up, go, go, go,” Beacon hissed to Phillip, before turning to the officers. “Lowering shield! Get behind cover!”

Phillip and Daring led Cold, Red, Flash, and the gathered officers around the right side of the rock and against the cavern’s wall. The rest of the officers hunkered down behind the rocks as Beacon’s shield flickered out. After a ragged sigh of relief, she drew the assault rifle strapped to her side, opposite of her sword, and peeked around her rock.

Gunfire greeted her. Beacon yanked her head back. Her eyes traced some bullets hitting the gravel in front of her. Slower, yes, but these shots were more focused. Beacon looked over to Pineapple and gave a decrescendo whistle – almost like a bomb dropping. Pineapple perked up and nodded, reaching into his messenger bag. “Uh, what’s going on?” Matchstick asked.

Her eyes widened at the answer: a trio of dynamite sticks with a long fuse. They exchanged grins. “Got a light?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Matchstick’s horn sparked with her eyes.

Pineapple sprang up and pitched the bundle of explosives like a baseball straight for the barricaded gate. “Fire in the hole!” At Pineapple’s words, every officer joined him in ducking down.

They didn’t have to hide for long.

A wave of pressure, heat and splinters of debris fell over the officers. The cavern shook from the disturbance, and dust rained on everypony – at least that was the only thing that fell from the ceiling.

Yet another silence hung in the air. Beacon’s horn ignited as a smaller version of the fiery shield appeared before her, her assault rifle leveled its edge. “CHARGE!” she roared, storming towards the still smoldering remains of the front gate.

The officers – except those attending to the wounded – sprang from their hiding places, shields against one foreleg and guns in the other. Braeburn and Wheellock abandoned their rifles for smaller arms and followed up in the rear. Pineapple and Matchstick grabbed their guns and vaulted over their own cover. A united blue wave surged into the Marketplace, gunfire erupting anew.

Two griffons fell from Beacon’s rifle. Something stirred at the corner of her vision. She spun around, her shield melting a burst of bullets. Her eyes narrowed at the culprit: one of the double-barreled BARs, manned by a griffon on a balcony and mounted on a makeshift turret.

It didn’t take long for it to be joined by its twin at the other side of the courtyard.

Beacon’s colleagues raised their own shields. Some turned in time to deflect the second turret’s fire. Others backed away from the arc of fire. A few officers fell by Beacon’s hooves, breathing but barely. She shielded them, fighting a growing tremor.

More griffons emerged from the doors under the balcony. Officers opened fire, cutting down some of the griffons and forcing others behind broken stalls, wagons, crates, and other debris of the marketplace. A few officers fell, and sweat dripped from Beacon’s hooves. Could she get them all home safely?

Pineapple produced a sparking grenade from within the shielded group and lobbed it towards the left turret. It fell short, but the explosion of lightning caught a few hiding griffons in its bolts. The left turret stopped firing. Its operator screamed, covering his eyes with his talons.

It was enough for Braeburn. He braced his assault rifle on an officer’s shield and silenced the griffon. He jerked back thrice before falling over on the rampart. Braeburn ducked back down below the shields just in time to avoid a retort, bracing a hoof over his hat…

Or at least, he would have. Instead, his hoof touched bare mane. He looked backwards and frowned.

“That was my favorite hat!” he cried, staring at the holes torn into the leather.

Beacon, meanwhile, took potshots at the griffons on the right. A few unlucky ones peeked out in time for her bullets to find weaknesses in their armor, and they dropped wounded or dead.

Her horn beamed. Flaming wisps swirled in the air around her. They launched at the griffons’ wooden cover like grenades, splashing the debris in amber magic and catching it on fire.

Griffons fled the frying pan that was their original position… and into the fire of the officers. The officers charged in on the right flank as the remainder mopped up the griffons on the left.

Beacon aimed her gun up at the lone turret griffon and opened fire. With a grunt, he fell, dragging his turret with him. Ash and debris flew into the air when his body crashed into the courtyard.

Silence fell over the courtyard.

Despite the calm, officers continued to huddle behind their shields. Wide eyes scanned the area, trembling hooves complemented by sweat.

The air remained still. The officers allowed their tense muscles to loosen, collectively breathing a sign of relief.

Beacon glanced around one last time before extinguishing her shield with a huff. She glanced at Pineapple, who tossed cloud grenades on the flaming debris.

“Sergeant Pizza, round up their weapons and find me our guns. Everyone else, fan out and make sure these griffons are dead or restrained,” she ordered.

Pineapple nodded. His first target was the right turret gunner’s body. Meanwhile, the rest of the officers and Braeburn saluted. The latter plucked his hat off the ground, dusted it off and slapped it back on his head.

As the others dispersed, Beacon scowled as she scanned the battlefield.

Officers they made their rounds. Some carried their injured out the ruined front gate. Others slapped cuffs on those griffons who showed life and took the guns from both the dead and living.

Someone was missing.

“Where is Iron Claw?” she muttered to herself.

“General!” Pineapple waved to her. He and Matchstick stood near a dead griffon with a scoped BAR. “We got a problem here!”

The secondary group hunkered close against the wall, shields raised towards the marketplace as they inched their way towards the back. They sidled against the rock, hoofsteps light to avoid crunching the gravel.

When the cavern shook, they all hunkered down again, Red raising his shield over his head as dust showered on them.

“Are they trying to bring the entire cavern down on us?” he grunted.

“The Lieutenant General knows what she’s doing,” Cold replied, brushing off some of the dust from her coat. She looked at Daring. “How much further?”

“Shouldn’t be too—”

Gunfire erupted anew. Everypony, including Daring, winced, but it wasn’t long before Daring adjusted her helmet and continued, albeit with a slight waver in her voice.

“Shouldn’t be too much further.”

“Let’s keep moving,” Phil said. “Can’t let them get away.”

Cold nodded.

The space between the marketplace’s wall and the cavern’s wall widened after they passed the right gate – which was also barricaded, but seemingly unguarded. Sure enough, off to the right was a small tunnel that traveled upwards.

“What’s the plan?” Flash asked as they stepped up to the tunnel.

“We use our shields like a wall,” Phil said, pointing to the marketplace as they turned around to face it. “Crouch behind them and stop anygriff that comes our way.”

“Solid plan,” Daring nodded, setting her shield up on the ground. The others did the same until they had formed a loose black wall in front of the tunnel entrance. By the time everypony got into position, however, the cavern was quiet.

A distant voice gave orders. One of the officers rose, his ears perked, before his colleague pushed him back down.

“Maybe the Lieutenant General didn’t need us after all,” Red remarked.

Something shifted behind them, like dust falling from the ceiling. Phillip’s trained ear honed in closer. His eyes shot wide open.

“Move!” he barked, rolling out of the way. Cold lunged to the right as well.

Daring only had time to flinch. Metal tore through her wing and side and she hissed. At the corner of everypony’s peripheral vision, there was a glint of light. One of the officers cried out, and something smacked against the cavern wall.

“Fucker!” Red said, rolling to his hooves. Everypony drew their service weapons.

The pale orange of a familiar coat stopped their hooves before they could pull the trigger. The other two officers had fallen back to cover their wounded teammate, fresh gashes across his back.

Iron Claw’s devilish sneer pierced the darkness of the tunnel. Her bloodstained talons ever so lightly dug into the flesh of Flash Sentry’s neck. She held the pegasus against her chest like a shield.

Flash’s widened eyes pleaded silently to Phillip and the others.

“Drop the guns,” Iron Claw said in a quiet, breathy voice.

Phillip and Daring glanced at one another. They growled, a storm surging in their minds.

But the storm was in vain. First to follow Iron Claw’s demand were Daring and Phillip. Red was next, frowning as he dropped his weapon and nodded to his two officers. They glared at the griffon as they obeyed Red’s implicit order, legs shaking.

Cold‘s sapphire eyes stared into Iron Claw’s lone gold one. She gave off a barely audible sigh—the last pony to concede.

“Are you okay?” Phil whispered to Daring, looking over her injured wing and bleeding side.

“Well, I’m not flying anytime soon,” she replied through a wince.

Iron Claw let out a laugh. “Ah, I thought this day would never come,” she said, glaring down at Cold. “It has been a long time, murderer.”

Cold barely winced at the venom in her voice. “Iron Claw,” she said, her voice quaking. “I’m sorry for what happened to Gjord, I—”

“Do not speak his name!” Iron Claw roared. Flash gulped as the iron talons dug a little deeper. “Here is what I want. I could care less about the rest of your miserable lives – I only want that tik.”

She pointed to Cold with her hook before slowly leveling it against Flash’s barrel. “Unless you want to see what his insides look like, you will come with me, Cold Case. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Cold said tersely.

“Then come along. Holster your weapon, if you want – it won’t save you,” Iron Claw ordered. “But do it slowly. Nice and slowly.”

Cold slowly and methodically holstered her service weapon. She glanced to Phillip and gave a slight nod. Iron Claw backed into the tunnel and Cold slowly followed after her, eyes locked on the griffon’s.

“Let him go, Iron Claw,” she said. “I’ll follow you.”

“Ah, yes, yes you will,” Iron Claw grunted as she flung Flash down the tunnel. Sand flew into the air when Flash barreled into Red, causing Phillip and Daring to raise their revolvers.

Iron Claw raised her own weapon – not a gun, but hoofheld detonator. The officers froze when they eyed Iron Claw’s thumb, her thumb on the red trigger.

“But your friends will not play as nicely,” she said with a chuckle. She looked past Cold; the devilish grin hadn’t left her face. “Leave us, or I will bring this cavern in on your heads… and theirs.” She nodded towards the marketplace.

Cold’s eyes widened, her breath hitching in her throat. Beacon and her officers had walked into a trap.

“Your griffons are in there too.” Daring kept her revolver leveled. Red and Flash untangled themselves, the latter checking his neck for injuries.

“You can have them. They are either dead or captured by now anyway,” Iron Claw spat. “I have what I came for. Now leave.”

Phil’s eyes drifted to this pocket holding his boomerang: it’d take less than two seconds to draw, aim, and throw, knocking the detonator out.

It’d take even less time for Iron Claw to push the button.

Muttering a string of curses, Phillip and Daring lowered their weapons and holstered them. After a grim nod from Phillip, Red backed away as Phillip draped one of Daring’s legs over his back and helped her up. The officers helped carry the other injured teammate with one leg draped around each of their shoulders.

Cold watched them leave before turning to Iron Claw. The crack in her façade was not on her face; her chest rose and fell with rapid, ragged breath. The griffon gave a dark chuckle.

“Follow me, murderer,” the griffon purred. “Your judgement day comes.”

By the time Phillip and the others had rounded the marketplace back to the entrance, most of the officers had already evacuated. Paramedics were taking out the last of the dead griffons hastily – and understandably so. Nopony wanted to stay in the marketplace.

Beacon Fire stood at the entrance and approached them as they rounded the marketplace. Her worried eyes did a quick scan, and she bit her lower lip.

“Iron Claw has Cold Case?”

Phillip nodded. “She’s wired the cavern to explode. We need to get out of here.”

“Yeah, Sergeant Pizza found the explosives in the marketplace. Thankfully he has a nose for those things, but he didn’t have enough time to defuse them,” Beacon said. “You need to get out of here. I’ll go after Cold and Iron Claw.”

“Are you sure?” Phil asked.

“Iron Claw’s using you for leverage, right?” At this, Phillip and Daring nodded. “Then get out of here, and she won’t have any bargaining chips. I can handle a griffon hoof-to-talon. Go, now!”

She charged past them at full gallop, fiery sparks trailing from her horn.

“You heard her; let’s move out!” Red said, helping Flash to the exit. The officers picked up the pace behind them.

Phillip whistled to one of the paramedics and beckoned them over.

“What are you doing?” Daring asked.

“I’m not going to let Beacon and Cold face her alone, and you’re in no shape to fight,” Phil said, quickly kissing her on the cheek. He looked to the paramedic. “Get her out of here.”

“Phil, wait!” Daring called as he turned around and charged after Beacon. She grunted as the paramedic supported her and led her towards the exit.

“I sure hope she’s everything Prowl made her out to be,” she muttered.

“IRON CLAW!”

Cold whipped around to see Beacon Fire charging up the tunnel after them, her horn leveled like a spear as she galloped. Her eyes blazed along with her horn. Close behind her was Phillip.

Iron Claw spat a curse under her breath. Cold looked back at Iron Claw just in time to see her activate the detonator and disappear further into the tunnel.

The tunnel shook. A wave of dust and heat swirled into the tunnel. It slammed Cold, Beacon, and Phillip into the gravel. Rocks crumbled behind them, crushing the marketplace entrance.

Cold furiously wiped the dust from her eyes. “No!” she shouted, starting to run towards the cave-in. Beacon caught her by the leg.

“They’re fine. They got out,” Phil coughed, wiping away the dust.

Cold turned to them with a blaze in her eyes. Her chest heaved as she tried to collect herself. “Are you sure?” she asked with a glare.

“Iron Claw only wired the marketplace and they were on the way out when I left them,” Beacon said, setting a hoof on her shoulder. “They’re alright.”

Cold was silent for a moment before she nodded and wiped at her eyes – there was more wetness there than dust.

“Let’s go,” she said icily, charging up the tunnel.

“I’m with you, partner,” Phil said with a nod, following her.

“Right behind ya,” Beacon said gruffly as she followed in hot pursuit.

Author's Note

The griffons have been defeated - now on to the awesome final battle! You're going to want this to listen to for it.

Not much to say about this chapter - it was the first of the fight scenes to get edited, so I hope you liked it. I couldn't help myself with the chapter title. :P

Stay tuned next week for the next chapter of Frost and Fire!