//------------------------------// // 11 - Underground, Under Pressure // Story: The Conversion Bureau: Dogs of Winter // by Cloudhammer //------------------------------// “Rover still think this plan is a bad idea,” he pointed out from his spot in the line. “Yeah, well, you could have wimped out and stayed home to watch the pups,” Rangel shot back with a grin, pushing another layer of stone to the side. Beside him, Ten Howls grunted as he shoved his own layer. The two formed the lead of the small formation, slowly extending their tunnel. Behind them, Rover, Fido, Spot, and half a dozen other dogs kept the excavated material moving. The Cards brought up the rear, stamping the scree flat to keep the tunnel floor smooth. They’d been digging the tunnel for the better part of a day, winding in a loose spiral upward from one of the ancient tunnels that ran beneath Scythion. They’d left the mountain den a week prior, spending five days walking in torchlit darkness to reach Iron Talons’ eyrie. “Are we close?” Spade whispered. “A moment.” Ten Howls closed his eyes and place a paw on the stone, the rock shivering slightly. “Not far now, there’s a tunnel just ahead and above us.” “Do you know where we are relative to the target areas?” Rangel asked. “I think so,” Ten Howls opened his eyes and shook his head to clear his vision. “Alright. So, we all know our roles, right?” Rangel looked at each small group. “Ten Howls, you have the prisoners, me and my pack handle the armory.” “And we’ll hold the entrance,” Spade added. Ten Howls nodded. “Then let us begin. And if any of us fall, there will be a place for us in Sirius’ Great Pack.” He glanced at the ponies. “Except maybe for you.” “Well, let’s just make it a point to all come back,” Diamond shot back, a grin on his muzzle. Rangel and Ten Howls looked at each other, nodded, and turned back to the front of the tunnel. Moving even slower, they carefully inched forward, until the stone began to drip free as they made the breach. Rangel took a deep breath as he stepped softly to the tunnel floor. “Well, here goes nothing.” He glanced left and right, confirming the tunnel was empty, taking a few deep sniffs. “Okay, I think the armory’s this way. Ten Howls, you move quick and get those dogs out of here. We’ll give you as much time as we can before making a move.” Ten Howls nodded. “Rangel pack be careful.” He padded down the hall to the right, sniffing constantly as he headed further into the eyrie. He could smell the stench of griffons everywhere, but underneath it were trace scents of dogs. He growled softly as the copper reek of blood also made itself known. He gripped his axe tighter and headed down the next tunnel. The tunnel sloped upward, side rooms carved at equal intervals. It made for slow going, as he had to stop and clear them one at a time. At this level it seemed most of the rooms were storing things like blankets, tents, and other tools. “Packs could use all of this,” he muttered. “Must bring more back to raid later.” He moved forward, reaching a steeply winding tunnel which headed up to the next layer. He put a paw to the stone as he climbed, eyes half-closed as he listened to the story it had to tell. It wasn’t pleasant. He could practically feel the anguish of the dogs who had carved this stretch of tunnel, the claw marks screaming at him as he ran his pads over them. He had to chew his tongue to keep a snarl bottled up inside, and fed it to his resolve instead. Emerging into a sprawling chamber, he saw it was filled with dozens of crates, stacked almost to the ceiling. A central avenue ran the length of the chamber, and he could see a griffon patrol standing at the far end. He hurried to the side, down one of the branch paths that went between stacks. When no alarm was raised, he let out the breath he’d held and turned to look at the closet stack of crates. He carefully slid one down to the floor and peeked back down the corridor to see if he’d been overheard. The griffons were still there, squawking back and forth. He sniffed at one of the nails, shrugged, and gave it a tentative lick. It had to have come from the same land Rangel had, it tasted entirely too pure, refined like nothing the griffons could make. He was even more curious what was inside, though the letters on the side eluded him. Going slow, he pried the nails free of the top, nibbling on one as he lifted the lid and set it to the side. Within, he saw rows of strange, cylindrical objects, packed into a soft material that kept them from bumping into each other. He lifted one out and looked it over. The bulk of the cylinder was a flat grey color like shale, with a red band around the top. He turned it over, feeling a weight inside it. He pried the top off and found a sphere inside, with the same coloring. A curious ring was attached to the top, and he saw it was attached to a metal spike that held a flat piece of metal down. He hooked a claw through the ring and pulled at it some, but froze as he heard the click of talons on stone. He stuffed the sphere into a pocket, set the lid back in place, hurriedly stacked the crate, and ducked out of sight as the griffons came down the main aisle. “We should have prisoner detail, guarding these supplies is an insult,” one of the griffons grumbled with a clack of his beak. The other rapped his compatriot on the shoulder. “Guarding these supplies is crucial. You remember when one of those mongrels breached a grenade? The deep worms love the smell, and can smell it for miles. You want to explain to Iron Talons why some of his precious human weapons found their way down a worm’s gullet? The most merciful fate you could expect would be getting sent after them.” “I still think we should simply take the weapons from the humans, they are weak, they can’t even survive exposed to background magic.” the first griffon muttered as they continued on down the corridor. Ten Howls slid from behind his crate, and cautiously rearranged the sphere to make sure it wouldn’t fall out or bump into anything else. He glanced back into the main aisle, seeing the tail of the rearmost griffon vanish, and turned to head deeper into the eyrie. He still didn’t know what this ‘grenade’ was, but if the griffons wanted to be careful around it, then he wanted it too. As Ten Howls moved down the tunnel, Rangel gestured to the left. “Let’s go. Stay close, and keep it as quiet as you can.” The other dogs nodded and they set off, moving quickly to the next intersection. Rangel risked a quick glance around the corner, seeing two griffons apparently standing guard. Slung across their backs he could make out the outline of M249s. He motioned, and the pack moved back slightly. “Okay, that’s really irritating. We could try to get them to come to us, but if they don’t take the bait, there’s no way we can make it down that hall without being turned into paste.” “Could dig?” Spot asked, scraping a claw along the floor. “Worked on griffons before.” “That… is actually not a terrible idea.” Rangel admitted. “You want the one on the left or the right?” Spot tapped a paw. “I take left.” “Okay, Fido, you help him out. Rover, the right one is all yours. I’ll be the distraction.” Rangel rolled his shoulders. “Alpha always the distraction,” Rover muttered as he started to dig. The griffons frowned as faint scratching echoed down the corridor. “You hear that?” the one on the left asked. “Cover me, I’ll take a look.” He started down the corridor, only to stop as a diamond dog turned the corner. “Hold on, this isn’t Vegas. I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.” Rangel turned and ran down the tunnel. He heard the angry screeches of the griffons as they gave chase, and looked back over his shoulder in time to see them turn the corner. In their haste, they didn’t notice the twin holes filled with scree until they were right on top of them. Fido and Rover were already moving, grabbing the griffons by the head and smashing them into the floor. One was simply stunned, but Fido’s lay unmoving, head clearly at the wrong angle. “Okay, let’s bury them and keep moving. Don’t want to risk another griffon having heard that.” Rangel pulled their weapons free and slung one across his back. “Fido, you carry the other. See that little bit of metal there?” He pointed at the trigger and Fido nodded. “No matter what, do not touch that. I’ll teach you how it works later.” The pack moved on, the tunnel stretching out into the distance. At first, it remained the same dim glow broken by torchlight, but as they walked, the ambient light grew steadily. “Are we heading outside?” Rangel wondered. Fido leaned forward and sniffed. “Fido smell fresh air. And more griffons.” As he said it the smell became apparent to the rest of them, and they cautiously advanced. Eventually Rangel could see wan sunlight coming from the exit, and he waved a paw to pause. “Any guards at the end?” “No, Alpha.” Fido sniffed slow and deep, eyes half-closed. “’But many griffons ahead.” “Okay, let’s see what we can find. Spot, I want you up front, keep out of sight and let us know if anything is looking our way. Fido, Rover, keep an eye behind us, make sure no one sneaks up on us.” Spot nodded and started to creep forward, ears alert as he approached the tunnel exit. He sniffed again as he reached the end, waved back, and leaned out to peek into the space beyond. He stiffened and waved again, urgently. The rest of the pack moved up behind him. “What is it?” Rangel asked, even as he leaned out to look. His eyes widened as he froze, trying to come to terms with what he saw in front of him. “Spot have very bad feeling.” In the cavernous space that could only be a hanger, five large airships hung at anchor, griffons swarming over them: carrying boxes, securing lines, or patrolling. Rangel squinted at one of the boxes, and his expression darkened. “Son of a bitch.” “What Alpha see?” Rover asked. “Those boxes are full of ammunition for these,” he shrugged the M249. “With all those boxes, they’ll have thousands of rounds each.” “But griffons already own country, that too much for fighting dogs,” Fido pointed out. “This isn’t to fight Ten Howls,” Rangel whispered, “it’s for Equestria.” Ten Howls rose from his half-crouch, accompanied by the scrape of stone on bone as the two griffons slumped to the ground. He pried his paws free of the tunnel floor and hurried to the slab that blocked the entrance to the slave quarters. He pressed a paw to the rock and closed his eyes, letting his stonesense guide him. Slowly, the stone began to slump, his paw pushing further as he forced a hole. Suddenly, the slab gave with with a grinding crash, and he hurried in. Bewildered and alarmed yelps greeted him as he entered the vast space, and he shook the cloud of dust off. He stood tall, rolled his shoulders, and took stock of the room. Approximately thirty dogs cowered at the far end, though those with a clear view started perking their ears in hope. “Come! I lead you to freedom!” Ten Howls gestured urgently. “But griffons kill us if we run!” Somedog protested. “Griffons kill you if you stay!” Ten Howls strode forward, grabbed the first dog by the scruff and hauled them to their paws. “Follow Ten Howls, and you can at least die on your paws like a dog, not rot in dirt like worms!” He roughly pushed the dog toward the entrance, and moved to grab a second dog. But moving the first galvanized them, and dogs started hurrying for the door. Ten Howls ran back to the front of the mob, ensuring they didn’t stumble on any patrols. Thankfully, he soon smelled the familiar scent of the ponies, and spurred his charges on. “Go, follow ponies, they help Ten Howls lead you to safety!” He barked, turning to Spade. “I trust we are in agreement?” Spade nodded. “Did you see Rangel?” “No, he not back?” Ten Howls scowled as he glanced down the direction Rangel had gone. “Ten Howls go find him. Ponies take dogs back to connecting tunnel.” Spade put a hoof on his shoulder. “No, Ten Howls. Rangel and the others are part of our her-… pack, we’ll bring them back.” Ten Howls eyed the pony for a moment, then nodded. “Very well, Spade pony.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved the sphere. “I find this in box, maybe you can use?” Spade coughed in surprise, taking several steps back. “Um, where did you find that, and is the pin still in?” “Spade mean tiny ring?” Ten Howls flicked at it curiously. “It still in, though not sure what it for.” Diamond half-flew forward, gently lifting it from Ten Howls’ paw. “How’s about you let me hold on to that, big guy.” He pushed the pin further in and sighed. “Okay, it’s safe.” Moving slowly, he put it in his bag. “How many of them did you see?” Ten Howls frowned. “I did not count, but saw lots of boxes, all with same writing. Griffons seem concerned, said they attract deep worms.” “Do they?” Spade mused, looking at the other Cards. “Oh no, boss, I know that look, we’re not pulling Kabul again.” Diamond protested.