//------------------------------// // Chapter Tres // Story: The Cutie Mark Crusaders Fly Delta Airlines // by V-Pony //------------------------------// "21...22...23," the Applebloom's excited voice filled the airliner cabin with its country twang and the first-class passengers with a certain sense of apprehension; well, the ones who hadn't gone to sleep in their nice comfy seats, anyway. For the ones that hadn't, no amount of heating, vibration, or strong liquor brought by Jan the flight attendant could calm their nerves stretched to the breaking point by what they'd first assumed to be three innocent little fillies. For the second time that day, Discord felt a disturbance in the Force, and it left him snickering to himself, though he had no idea why. Hmph, somepony somewhere must be causing some wonderful chaos! "34...35...hee-hee, 36..." the yellow filly's bright red bow bobbed up and down in time with her tiny giggles. The past couple of hours had been filled with energetic hijinks of all sorts, ranging from freeze-tag, to Marco Polo (which of course, being ponies, had everything to do with kicking a ball up and down the aisles while blind-folded), and a particularly rowdy game of "dodge-the-airline stewardess," who was just about ready to jump off the plane rather than face the impending wrath of her boss once the passengers complained about what these three fillies had been doing. High-rollers or not, this was well beyond ridiculous! "43...44...45..." Applebloom continued to giggle and count, her muzzle buried in her hooves as filly-sized rumbles and snickering filtered down from the storage bins overhead Just WHAT were those ponies up to NOW?! All the while, James Wilkins continued to keep his cool and stay reclined in his seat, only once or twice peeking out from eyelids that feigned sleep on this long and arduous journey. Rowdy fillies or not, they were hardly dangerous compared to whom his supervisors suspected might be on this flight... "48...49...50! Ready or not, here Ah come!" Applebloom suddenly sprang up Still, he was finding them to be terribly- "AGH!!!" The flustered combination of squeak and squeal sounded from the overhead storage bin above James as its hatch fell open and Sweetie Belle tumbled out. The flailing unicorn (who had no business trying to fly) knocked James' glasses off and fell on his meal tray, catapulting his orange juice over the seat and into the lap and chest of a suddenly awake and enraged elderly gentleman who'd had just about enough of these ponies! "Ridiculous!" That's the word I was looking for, James thought as the gentleman whirled to glare down his round nose at the equally red-faced filly, orange juice spewing from his walrus-like mustache. "Utterly ridiculous! Didn't your parents teach you any better!?" he turned his gaze upon Scootaloo and Applebloom peering out from the storage bin and from under the seats respectively. "Well?" "Uh..." Sweetie Belle rubbed her mane for a moment, her eyes darting from the floor to her friends and back. Here we go again, she thought. "I kinda live with my sister cuz my parents are always going to hoofball games and on vacation and stuff." "W-what?" the gentleman cocked his head in confusion as Applebloom took her well-rehearsed turn. "Mah parents are dead," she declared with a bit too much enthusiasm, just wanting to get back to playing hide and seek and not catching the agape mouth of the shocked older man. "Scoots?" "Eh, I still don't wanna talk about it," the pegasus filly waved a dismissive hoof before diving back into the storage bins, her trail of destruction illustrated by the occasional crashings of undoubtedly fragile things from overhead. "Eeyup," Applebloom declared with a bob of her red bowed head and scrambled out from under the seats, helping Sweetie Belle untangle herself from James' meal tray before they galloped off down the aisle. As she did so, the elderly gentleman shakily sat back down and tried to go back to sleep, a bit embarrassed that he'd shouted so harshly at the poor fillies, unknowingly becoming yet another member of that particular club. Meanwhile though, James saw right through their act and could only shake his head and chuckle lightly. They were good, alright...too good. He'd have to keep an even closer eye on them, not just on this flight, but possibly even beyond depending on the amount of chaos they created- "HEY GIRLS! Ah've got the best idea ever!" Applebloom's voice carried from near the cockpit, causing a fresh bout of indigestion among the majority of the passengers within earshot. "Let's see how many people's seats we can jump over without missing!" You can't be serious, James cocked a concerned eyebrow as Jan sneaked a subtle nip of brandy out of the plane's fridge. The stewardess locked her helpless gaze with his for a moment, realized he wasn't going to be much help, then took a second, much less subtle swig. "That sounds like fun!" Sweetie Belle grinned and prepared to climb up onto the nearest seat. They're serious, James groaned as Scootaloo followed suit, her tiny wings buzzing. "Haha, I've got wings and you don't!" "Hey, no fair!" Sweetie Belle squeaked in protest as the pegasus raspberried her. "Nopony said I couldn't, so there! No take-backsies!" "That doesn't even count here, Scootaloo! Applebloom, do something!" But the earth pony filly could only shrug helplessly. "She's got a point." "OH COME ON!" the unicorn tossed her hooves towards the ceiling, but to no avail. "Pfft, whatever. You're just scared to lose," the pegasus filly sneered as she judged the distances between the seats. "Applebloom, this idea is the bomb!" Oh...shit James' eyes widened, hoping that nobody had heard that. But of course they did as evidenced by the growing murmur amongst the passengers at the rambunctious pegasus' naive wording. "Oh god, she said bomb," Scootaloo's ears caught the near-whisper from behind. She turned to see a blonde woman leaning into a man with a tan as orange as Applejack. "Yeah, so?" Scootaloo cocked her head. "You got a problem with it or something?" "Uh, yeah. You can't say that on an airplane, kid," the man shook his finger at her. "Why not?" "Seriously? Kid, don't you watch the news?" Mr. Spray Tan scoffed. "Or don't you have that sorta thing in that backwater place, Equestria?" "What the hay?!" Applebloom jumped onto the seat next to Scootaloo. "Equestria ain't a backwater! So what if they've got a lotta farms-" "Baaackwater," the man droned and laughed dismissively, his wife snickering as well. "'Sides, that ain't tha point here anyway," Applebloom shook her hoof right back at the couple. "Tha point is ya'll are getting stirred up over mah friend sayin' 'bomb.' Who cares what she says? It ain't like she's got a bomb!" "It's the principle of it, child," the elderly gentleman from earlier chimed in. "You can't say that here!" "But why not?" Sweetie Belle queried. "Why would she have a bomb on an airplane anyway?" "To blow us all up!" the heavyset, bearded man cried in a wheezy voice that grated on James' nerves. But before he could silence the behemoth, all hell began to break loose. "She's going to blow us all up with a bomb?!" a frightened passenger a few rows back leaned out and stared up the aisle. "She is?!" "Oh shit, really?!" "Oh god, why'd I wanna go to Japan today?!" "I'm not gonna blow anypony up!" Scootaloo shouted. "What the hay is wrong with you guys?! I mean, if I had a bomb, I'd get blown up too!" "She's going to blow herself up too!!" "What? No! Argh, you humans get freaked out over the dumbest stuff!" The pegasus face-hoofed. "You know, if we really wanted to take you guys out, we'd just bring a gun or something," Sweetie Belle mumbled, but not quite quietly enough. "THEY'RE PLANNING TO TAKE US ALL OUT WITH A GUN!!!" the heavyset man bellowed loudly enough for the pilot and co-pilot to hear, prompting the latter to open the cockpit door and stare out at the growing consternation behind them. Like Jan, he too locked eyes with James as if to say do something already before shutting the door again. "So much for catching some decent Z's on this one," James muttered before rising from his seat, stepping out-all five foot-three of him-and observing the rising panic popping up among the passengers like Redenbacher in a forest fire. "Alright folks, calm down," he raised his hands and patted the air to get their attention. "It's all under control." "And just who the hell are you to give orders, shorty?" Spray Tan scoffed. But his eyes widened fearfully as James' hand reached into his suit jacket and the man caught the glint of a metal pistol barrel under the fabric; a SIG Sauer P229, to be exact. "Whoa man, take it easy!" Spray Tan jumped back and nearly into his confused wife's lap. But instead of pulling the gun from his suit, James rolled his eyes in irritation at the man and withdrew his hand, his fingers clenched around a blue and brass badge emblazoned with the words UNITED STATES FEDERAL AIR MARSHAL. The badge gleamed in the overhead lights as he raised it above the noise of the restless passengers. Meanwhile, the Applebloom and Scootaloo cocked their heads in confusion. What the hay was a- "Like I said, it's all under control! Young fillies," James turned towards the ponies with a serious expression so swiftly replacing his kindly features that he suddenly looked much taller than his slight frame had any business being. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and approached the ponies with authority. "You're going to have to come with me now." "But what did we do wrong? And who the hay are you?" Scootaloo protested before Sweetie Belle nudged her sharply with a hoof. "He's an air marshal. They're like the Royal Guard but on planes," the Unicorn filly asserted before turning her green eyes up towards Marshal Wilkins. "I think we're in a lot of trouble, girls." Scootalo continued to scowl defiantly while Applebloom very nearly peed herself on the spot; Grannysmith had told her stories of what the Royal Guard would do to little ponies that misbehaved and the ones she'd seen in person were so big and scary and stoic that it made her shiver every time she locked eyes with one. She couldn't imagine what a human version was like... "That's highly likely," James nodded solemnly before gesturing towards the back of the plane. "Step lively, ladies and this will go smoothly." "But we didn't do-" Scootaloo began before both Applebloom and Sweetie Belle jammed their hooves in her rowdy mouth and shuffled her off ahead of them, with Marshal Wilkins close behind. "Jan, give the passengers all a round on me," James nodded at the flustered airline stewardess before he led the fillies back to the Coach section, pulling the class dividing curtain to behind him and shutting them off from the prying gaze of the passengers eager to see the three fillies get their just desserts. "So, are you gonna like, read us our rights or something?" Scootaloo queried as soon as her muzzle was free from her friends' hooves. But to her surprise, James merely chuckled and shook his head before tucking his badge away and kneeling down to their level. "W-what's so funny about you dragging us back here and arresting us, huh?" "First off, calm down young lady," James clapped a hand onto her small shoulder and smiled, this time just as kindly as before, and it thoroughly confused the Pegasus filly. "You're only in as much trouble as you put yourself in back here, and right now you're still ok. I just had to get you three away from those scared people out there. Secondly, who said you were under arrest?" "Aren't we, though?" Scootaloo squinted up at him, trying to gauge the man who'd gone from friendly, to authoritative, and now back to cheerful again. He's like a shorter human version of Celestia or something. "Haha, one of these days, you'll have to read up on something called Miranda Rights," James shook his head and patted her shoulder once more. "No, you're not under arrest, but I don't want you three going back out there, preferably till we land. You really put a fright into those passengers out there and the longer they think I've got you under arrest, the longer they'll stay calm and the better off we'll all be today." "But we didn't do anything wrong. Well, at least not out of the ordinary from what we usually do," Applebloom grumbled and scuffed a hoof off the cheap airline carpet as James stared at her in disbelief, wondering how long their Equestrian rap sheet might be in that case, and how in the world they got on the flight if it was really that bad...unless the legal system there was just really lax in comparison. "Yeah, I mean, all we said was 'bomb' and they got all freaked out," Scootaloo declared. "Isn't that enough?" James cocked a brow. "Those people out there thought you were a trio of maniacs after that, I'll bet." "I don't get it," Sweetie Belle spoke up. "We said 'it's not like we have a bomb'." "You said bomb on an airplane," James replied. "What's wrong with sayin' 'bomb' on an airplane?" Applebloom queried. "Really?" The Air Marshal asked in utter disbelief. "What are they teaching you ponies over there?" "Math, Science, History. Some magic," Sweetie Belle answered with a sincere smile. "That sorta thing mostly." "Have they taught you anything about Earth history? Specifically airline history?" James rubbed his forehead, trying to fend off an inevitable migraine. "Rainbow Dash told me you had bombers and stuff in the military way back when!" Scootaloo grinned, zooming around the aisle like a small plane. "Like, what if we were bombardiers on one in the military and we said 'bomb' on an airplane then?" "But you're not in the-" "Bomb bomb bomb, bomb-bomb-bomb-bomb!" Scootaloo laughed and jumped onto the seats, leaping off and making exploding noises with her mouth as she attacked invisible bad guys. "Kaboom! Take that!" "Are you gonna arrest her?" Sweetie Belle asked as Applebloom facehoofed. "No, luckily for her I'm not," James shook his head for the umpteenth time that day, wishing Jan would bring him some of that no-name beverage she'd been sneaking earlier. "I've got more common sense than those folks out there to know that you fillies don't intend to blow up this plane or shoot anyone." "Yeah. Ah mean, we don't even have pockets to keep bombs and guns in. Why would they freak out like that?" Applebloom asked. "Well, when you coop a lot of people up in a small space like this for a long time, it's already stressful enough," James explained as Scootaloo finally "came in for a landing." "Tell me about it! I'm going crazy not being able to see the sky," the Pegasus filly opined. "Well, humans aren't much different in that regard. And when you say something like that-" "You mean 'bomb'?" "...yes, that," James sighed. "Considering Earth's airline history, it tends to scare people because they can't get away." "You keep talking about the airline history," Sweetie Belle tugged his sleeve. "What's up with that?" "Well, it's..." James paused for a moment, wondering if he should spare their naive minds the gory details. But before he could continue, all hell broke loose as he was interrupted by the most horrifyingly unexpected series of noises imaginable from the front of the plane: the sudden sharp crack of a gunshot followed by the screams of dozens of horrified passengers. From his kneeling position near Scootaloo, James unholstered his gun quicker than thought, his training kicking in as he drew the firearm up to a ready position while he chanced a quick glance down at the 3 confused and scared fillies in coach with him, their eyes glued to his shining SIG pistol. "Stay back and keep quiet," James ordered with a tone that brooked no argument while he crept towards the dividing curtain, placing himself between the curtain and fillies behind him. He knew that the recently elevated threat level against the airline industry was why he'd been placed on this particular flight, and that although things had turned deathly-serious in an instant on the plane-something his training had taught him could and would happen eventually-that same training had also taught him how to take charge of and keep people safe during these scenarios. He was ready. He could do this! But before he could reach the fabric barrier and check on the passengers, the intercom crackled to life overhead. "Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen...ponies...marshal. This is not your Captain speaking," the voice of the heavyset bearded man filtered thru the cabin above the panicked airline occupants. "And unless you want this plane to make a much quicker-than-scheduled landing in the Pacific Ocean, I strongly suggest you all remain much more calm than you are right now!" The man's sudden outburst caused a fresh bout of screams from the passengers before a second gunshot into the floor did the trick; the cabin fell deathly silent but for the occasional whimper from Jan...then again, it could have been Mr. Spray Tan. "What is it you want?" James called out down the aisle, trying to peak around the curtain before he heard the groan of the injured Captain over the intercom. "For you to stay back there and keep those filthy little fillies out of my business," the man replied nastily. "The Captain here can still fly, but only just. The Co-Pilot though...well, he's a different story." A wheezing series of chuckles sounded over the intercom before abruptly ceasing and being replaced by an almost reptilian-cold voice. "Now then...everyone return to your seats. Stay calm. Marshal, stay back there. Captain, put your damn hands back on the controls and fly." And with that, the marshal heard the slamming of the cockpit door and then silence beyond the curtain. He knew from when he first entered the plane that the cockpit door had a small, circular window thru which the pilot-and by extension the hijacker-could see back down the aisle, and the marshal knew he could likely see his every move even from the far end of the plane. He'd make good on his threat if he saw James try to exit Coach. James suddenly released the breath he'd been holding for what seemed like an eternity with a great whoosh, deeply inhaling and exhaling twice to calm himself before turning back to the utterly terrified fillies huddled under the seats behind him. "G-great...so w-what tha hay do we d-do now?" Applebloom's words broke the silence of the Coach section, unknowingly echoing James' exact thoughts. Despite all his training, all the scenarios, all the probable outcomes...he had nothing but 150 feet of open aisle full of terrified hostages between himself and the hijacker behind a locked door with a gun to the head of the only man qualified to fly the damn plane! He didn't know if the co-pilot had been shot or if the hijacker had killed anyone, and he damn sure didn't know his motives. Hell, he couldn't even see what was going on beyond the curtain for fear the hijacker would kill someone else! Just what could they do?!