//------------------------------// // Robbing Hood // Story: Wild Card // by Barrel-of-fun //------------------------------// Edited by: PieisGood4U Blazinblade7 fireshadow11 After picking the lock on a few of the filing cabinets inside the vault I had reached a conclusion. Paperwork is really boring. Even if you don’t have to file it or anything, even if you're just looking through it to find incriminating evidence on a massive company, it is still ridiculously boring. So I had adapted my plan slightly, instead of having to search through a cubic fuck-ton of papers, I’ll just let the bad guys show me where they’ve hidden the files. It’s so damn foolproof! Also, if anyone out there ever plans to hide in a vault for an extended period of time, I have one piece of advice for you. Bring a form of entertainment. I was currently on my forty second consecutive game of solitaire, having already eaten the sandwich that I had brought to keep myself from starving to death. That would have been really embarrassing. To have someone eventually open the vault only to find my corpse inside. Not to mention it would really mess up the plan. I was trying to figure a good place to put the Queen of Hearts when I heard a muffled conversation from beyond the confines of the vault, followed by the sound of a dial being spun. I hastily gathered up all my cards and returned them to their pouch on my belt before hurrying into the most shadowy corner of the vault and crouching down there, ensuring that the enchantment on my coat was facing outwards. The door swung upon smoothly, revealing Pencil Pusher and three other stallions, two large dumb-looking brutes, who I assume to be some form of security guard, as well as a smaller than average Earth Pony. Profit Margin I assume, we meet at last. I remained concealed in my hiding place as they strode forwards into the documentation vault, Margin leading the way flanked by his two guards whilst Pencil Pusher just stood there and began to shake nervously. Was that stallion ever not nervous? But then, considering the company he was in... “You two!” Margin barked to his guards. “Grab the documents and move them to the safe in my office. Pencil, get to work on forging some fakes. Good fakes, mind you. We don’t want this ‘Corporal Storm’ to notice any discrepancies do we?” “N-no sir! Right away sir!” Pencil said, hurrying away to complete his assigned task. I watched as the guards went over to one of the many filing cabinets that filled the room and swung open the lowest drawer, revealing the mass of papers inside. The two rent-a-guards quickly began to grab the documents with their mouths and transfer them into the bags they had across their backs. Do things not get a bit...saliva-y whenever a pony grabs them in their mouths? Whilst the brutes were distracted with their strenuous task of lifting a few pieces of paper, and Margin was even busier overseeing them to make sure they didn’t accidentally eat some paper and choke to death, I decided to slip out for a bit. Stretch my legs, you know? It also prevented me getting trapped in the vault when they had finished their slightly criminal activity of hiding their larger criminal activities. Criminals are very active people, I should know. Once the trio had finished retrieving the documents, they strode out of the vault and began to head down one of the many corridors that made up this maze of a building, completely unaware that I was tailing them. Heh, tailing ponies. They already have tails, so am I tailing their tails? Best not follow that train of thought, for that way madness lies. I crept after the three stallions, careful to maintain a reasonable skulking distance so that I didn’t have to needlessly strain the enchantment on my coat. I’m still not sure just what the extent of this spell is, and I’d prefer it if I didn’t find the limit of it whilst in the middle of an enemy's lair. Well, enemy's office block. Same difference. The stallions eventually reached what could possibly be an elevator, except rather than any electronics it had a weighted pulley system. It was still relatively ornate, despite its primitive mechanisms. The velvety red interior of the lift room was wholly at odds with the dark inside of the lift shaft that could be seen beyond a brass grate. “Top floor.” Margin ordered. “Let’s get these to my personal safe.” The trio stepped in, one of the guard stallions closing a gate on the front whilst the other loosened a rope, causing the lift to begin to gradually rise up into the obscurity of the shaft. Damn, I’m going to lose them! I looked both ways down the corridor, frantically turning my head in hopes of finding an alternate way up. Down one corridor there appeared to be a small sign, with a picture of a pony climbing a staircase emblazoned on it accompanied by a small arrow. Bingo. I hurried to follow the arrows directions, eventually reaching a narrow staircase that spiralled upwards into the depths of the tower. That is an awful lot of stairs. I quickly began to ascend, taking the small pony stairs three at a time in my haste, practically leaping up on the spiralling stairwell. My legs burned as they forced me up more and more levels, signs next to me appearing as little more than blurs as I flashed past. Top floor. That’s what Margin had said. Top floor. Why are there so many god damn stairs? I finally reached the top, stumbling off of the staircase with sweat running down my brow and my legs nearly collapsing out from underneath me. “I vow, before all the gods in the universe, that if I ever meet the inventor of stairs I’m first going to thank him for the great usefulness of his invention...and them I’m going to kick him in the nuts.” I muttered under my breath. Once I had got my breath back that is. I heard the lift arrive before I saw it. A cheery little ‘ding!’ echoed out from down the hall, the sheer happiness of the sound serving only to emphasis the misery that I now felt in my legs. Though, to be honest, I did feel a great sense of achievement in beating the elevator to the top. Screw you, inventor of elevators, you’re not so great. Concealing myself to the best of my abilities, considering the complete lack of shadows around here, was a difficult task, eventually I simply settled for hiding round a corner and listening to what was going on further down the corridor. I heard the muffled thudding of steps, the three stallions leaving the lift. The guard’s hoof falls were easy to hear, whilst Margins were barely perceptible. He had a light touch, evidently, I wonder if that transfers over into his business arrangements. Something tells me no. A clunking sound reached my ear, followed by an eerie groan as the door to Margins office was opened. The hoof falls retreated inside, another groan signalling the door being closed. I left my hiding place and scurried over to it, pressing one ear to its wooden surface in an attempt to hear what was going on inside. How was I supposed to know where the safe is? What if it is hidden somewhere? “Duh, boss, where’d we hide da safe again?” I heard one of the guards slur out. “Behind the portrait you idiots. Sweet Celestia, you just cannot hire good guards these days.” Margin’s angry tone responded. Thank you dumb guards. And thank you narrative causality. I heard the sound of clicking, followed by something being swung open. There was a brief rustling as the papers were loaded in and then a ‘clang!’ as the safe was shut again. As I heard the hoof falls approaching my position, I realised my mistake. I had been listening when I should have been running for it. Never make that mistake again. I looked both ways, noticing that there was no place to conceal myself along the smooth walls of the corridor. The stairwell was too far away, and I couldn’t exactly hide in the lift. I may not know the precise limits of the Turncoat but I do believe that standing in the middle of a brightly lit hallway like an idiot may test its abilities a bit. The handle of the door rattled slightly as somepony on the other side placed a hoof upon it, forcing me to make a rather stupid decision. I reached over my shoulder and grabbed my braid, swinging it so that it was wrapped around my neck and out of the way. I then turned and ran directly at the wall closest to me, running up it as best I could before springing out into the open space in between the two walls. My arms exploded outwards in one direction whilst my legs went in the other, both of them reaching their respective targets at around the same time. As the door underneath me swung open and the stallions stepped out, I did my best to balance the forces between my strong goat legs and my weak noodle-like arms. It was more than a bit difficult but I managed to do it, keeping myself suspended above the stallions as they walked under me and towards the lift. Luckily none of them bothered to look up, believing that they were safely unobserved in their crime. The criminal trio entered the lift and began to descend, gradually moving downwards until they were completely out of sight. The moment the tops of their ears disappeared down into the shaft, I released my grip, allowing myself the sweet relief of falling down onto the thick carpet. “Ow.” I said, my voice muffled by the thick wool. I hauled myself to my hooves, swaying slightly from the dazing that my sudden and violent greeting of the floor had given me. Once I had managed to get my eyes to stop rolling around, or perhaps it was the room that was rolling around, I approached the door to Margins office, kneeling down to examine the lock. This may actually by the most difficult lock that I’ve picked since I came to Equestria, considering that it is meant to protect something rather than just keep somepony locked up. Ah, the many uses of locks, how I often pontificate on this subject whilst robbing people. I retrieved a pick from my belt and went to work, idling humming a tune to myself as my clever fingers made short work on the lock’s various mechanisms, tricking the device into thinking that the key had been inserted and turned. Obligingly, the lock clicked open, allowing me access to the largest and most fancy room I had possibly ever seen. The first thing I noticed, and anyone who entered the room would notice, was the sheer size of it. It was huge! It had to take up almost all of this floor, perhaps even all of it. A whole floor devoted to one room may seem ridiculous, but if you take into consideration the sheer amount of stuff that this room was filled with it no longer seems like such a ludicrous concept. Marble statues covered much of the available floor space, their gleaming white surfaces reflecting the light provided by a giant three-tiered chandelier that hung from a thick gold chain in the ceiling. A soft, luxurious red carpet covered the floor, matching the gleaming varnished wood of the walls and the dark mahogany desk that stood at one end of the room. The wall behind the desk was mostly taken up by a huge window pane, though deep green curtains with a gold edging currently covered them. Overall, the room gave off an aura of luxury so thick that you could choke on it. Now then, Margin had said that the safe was hidden behind a portrait. This would make my search relatively simple, if it weren’t for one small problem. There was about twenty portraits of various rich looking Earth Ponies in the room. “Oh god damn it all.” I muttered. Okay then, Margin seems like a fairly narcissistic guy, he would probably hide the safe behind a portrait of himself, right? That cuts my search down to the five portraits of Margin, each one had him looking more rich and pompous than the last. Sweetie Belle needs to teach this guy the meaning of the world ‘subtle’. I moved over to the nearest painting and checked behind it, finding nothing. I repeated this with the next two portraits, moving their gold-edged frames and then carefully putting them back in the same position when I was met with disappointment each time. It was only on the fourth painting that I struck gold, so to speak. If I actually wanted to strike gold then punching damn near any of the decorations in this room would accomplish that task. Concealed behind the painting was wall safe, essentially a miniature version of the one downstairs where they kept all their documents. The steel faceplate of the safe gleamed at me, reflecting my face in its mirrored surface. I took a moment to admire the view, grinning at my reflection and putting a hand to my chin. “Ladies.” I said seductively before shaking my head and getting to work. I hate safes. I hate having to break into them. They are so much more difficult to trick than normal locks, but then I suppose that is why they are called ‘safes’. Because they keep people’s stuff safe from bad men, like me. The main method of cracking a safe like this would be to steal the entire safe, as well as a large chunk of the wall it is attached to, take it to some remote location where it can be forced or blown open at the thief's leisure. Unfortunately I had forgotten to bring a pickaxe with me, so I was forced to rely on more subtle methods. All safes have one important weakness. They can’t be impossible to break into. Safe builders always have to make a way that a locksmith can open them, in case the owner forgets the code. This means that safecrackers, such as yours truly, can use this to their advantage by tricking the mechanism into thinking that they are the locksmith and it is supposed to open. I carefully placed my right ear against the side of the safe and grasped the dial with my other hand, spinning it so that it set off a series of clicks from inside the mechanism. Huh, that was strange. There were far fewer individual locks than I was expecting, only three as opposed to the usual six. That meant that the combination was only composed of three numbers, much easier than I expected it to be. I suppose hooves aren’t as capable as creating cunning mechanisms as hands are. Luckily for me, hands are as capable of breaking mechanisms as they are at building them. I began by spinning the dial counter-clockwise, listening to the little ticks that it made as the cogs inside turned. The sounds started deep within the safe, reverberating outwards through its steel hull and to my ear, which was pressed flat against the cold metal. I had to concentrate hear, listen out for any changes in the pattern. Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, clunk. There! The moment the first number locked in, I began to turn it the other way, going clockwise now as I searched for the second number. It didn’t take very long, the second number falling into line quickly before me, followed swiftly by the third. That was actually fairly easy, I don’t think I’ve ever had so much luck whilst cracking a safe. Thank you, my Lady. I swung the metal door open, to reveal to my eyes the wonders that may be inside. The interior of the safe was as clustered as the room that contained it, and just as wealthy. Bars of what looked like pure gold were stacked in neat pyramids, bags filled with small golden bits lazed the safe, displaying their opulence for the world to see. Next to them, looking bland by comparison, was a square stack of papers. The evidence I need. Then again, all that money looks pretty tempting as well. It’s so very shiny. I spent a couple of minutes deliberating this dilemma before realising something. Why don’t I just take both? I grinned as I grabbed a bag of coins and put it into my coat and was about to reach for another when I noticed something about the top paper on the pile. It was a list. A list full of names. Curiously, I grabbed the paper, bringing it up to my eyes and scanning the page. It was a fairly simple table, only four columns. The first had the name of a pony, Sterling Wind or Turning Cogs, fairly easy to recognize as pony names. The second column had what looked like the names of various places and mines, names like Deathwater Caverns. The third was obviously the names of Diamond Dogs, Swift Claws, Biter, Big Paws. The fourth column was the shortest, and perhaps the most disgusting. It was a list of numbers. Prices. It was obvious what I was looking at, it was a prisoner manifest. All the ponies who had signed on with the Company, all the ponies that had been sent to be captured by Dogs. Who had been betrayed by those they had placed their trust in. I felt my hand begin to shake, the manifest crumpling as the fingers that grasped it began to close in anger. I don’t know what was worse, that they would do such a horrible thing, or that they would be so brazen about it. So confident in their untouchability that they would reduce living beings, fellow ponies even, to mere numbers on a page. I saw Margin’s face in my mind, that cold, uncaring visage. How could he do this? How could he surround himself with all these luxuries whilst forcing others into poverty and ruin? Be lord of his little kingdom, a kingdom built on the backs of slaves. My heart shook as I looked at the manifest, and I could feel the weight of the money that I had stolen from the vault inside my coat. Blood money. It seemed to weigh a ton, far more than it should. The weight of the woe that it had caused bearing down on me. I could barely stand under it. I grabbed the bag of coins and angrily threw it back into the vault, knocking over one of the neat pyramids of gold bars as I did so. I looked around the room, at the marble statues and the fine paintings, at the luxurious rug and the expensive desk, the safe full of currency. Currency that rightly belonged to those that had suffered because of Margin. It should get back to them, to compensate them for what they have been through. I reached into the safe and gathered up all the papers, shoving them under my hat for safe keeping, before grabbing the nearest bag of gold and removing it. The gold may be a heavy burden but I shall bear it until I can get it to those in need.