Captain John Graves watched the crate, which had 'extremely fragile' stamped on it several times, being unloaded. Dust swirled around, and a baking heat seemed to penetrate through to his bones. When the crate had been established in a nearby tent he dismissed the men, and started to carefully open it. It was always the same, he thought. Whenever you thought things couldn't get any worse, a General would come up with some damn fool idea to keep you entertained instead of actually, say, being allowed to sleep. He carefully pulled the bubble wrap away from a large mirror, checked his orders, and carefully stood it upright. Yep, this was definitely the craziest thing he'd been told to do. Still, it beat being told to hike into the mountains, or patrolling through streets waiting to be shot. He pulled up a camp chair, and settled down to keep watch.
The sun blazed down as Twilight Sparkle and her friends walked up Canterlot's crowded streets towards the castle. Pausing only to drag Rarity away from the display of her new fall line in Hoity Toity's shop and Pinkie Pie away from the cake displays, they soon arrived at the palace and were ushered into the presence of Princess Celestia.
“My Little Ponies,” she said, “I have a most important quest for you. I have received a request from one of my counterparts, Elizabeth, for help. She needs you to bring the magic of friendship to an area that has been ravaged by terrible fighting.”
“Don't worry your majesty, we'll blast them with friendship in no time,” said Rainbow Dash.
“I'm very pleased with your enthusiasm, but this place is not in our world, and you must be prepared for what you will find. They have very little magic in their world, though I understand that there is some sort of large enchanted web. And they are not ponies – their appearance may shock you. Knowing all this, do you still wish to take on the job?”
“Of course, Princess,” said Twilight Sparkle. “You can rely on us.”
Celestia led them over to a large mirror.
“You will reach their kingdom through this mirror. Each of you should take your Element of Harmony with you, to give you the best possible access to magic.”
Twilight settled the Element of Magic on her head, and walked up to the mirror. The surface was shimmering. She took a deep breath, and stepped through. A wave of cold washed over her, followed by a blast of heat and a sudden sense that everything was wrong, and she fell down onto the ground.
John had just poured a cup of tea from his Thermos flask when the girl fell out of the mirror. The first thing he noticed about her was that her skin was bright purple. The second was that she was completely naked, except for a tiara.
“My God,” he said. “Are you – are you all right?”
“What's wrong with my hooves?” she murmured, looking at her hands in distress. A second girl fell out of the mirror. Her skin was blue. She was rapidly followed by four more girls, and a purple dog.
This must be what going mad feels like, John thought. Or maybe he was actually dead, and it turned out that he'd had some really strange desires he'd never admitted even to himself. He peered out through the tent flap – life on the base outside seemed to be proceeding as normal. The heap of pastel coloured teenage girls started to disentangle themselves. They all seemed to be staring at their hands.
“I-I'll try to find you girls some clothes,” stammered John. “Stay right here.”
He dashed out of the tent and over to the supply tent. He grabbed trousers and shirts in the smallest size he could find, and he dashed back. On the way, he saw the purple dog being petted by one of the privates.
Fortunately, the girls had stayed put – in fact most of them were still looking at their bodies in a very confused way. He put the clothes down in front of them, trying to shield his eyes.
“Here you are ladies, sorry if they're not the right size.”
“Why's he giving us those?” said a voice with a heavy American twang.
“I think I want to go home,” said another.
“Celestia warned us that they might be different,” said the purple one. “He's wearing them too. I guess they wear them all the time.”
There was a gentle touch on his arm. John dropped his hand for a moment and found himself looking into a pair of large violet eyes in a pale face.
“Do you mean to say,” she said, “that here, everypony wears clothes all the time?”
“Erm, yes,” said John, desperately keeping his eyes on hers. “Definitely.”
She gave him a dazzling smile. “I love this place already,” she trilled.
“So tell me,” said Twilight, once they had all wriggled into their new clothes, “why do you need the magic of friendship?”
“Well,” said John, “there's a man who we think is hiding here called Osama bin Laden. He's attacked the Americans who are our allies – our friends. So I think the general idea was, maybe you could find him, and persuade him to be a bit less unfriendly.”
“I don't understand, why didn't the American princess ask for our help?”
“They don't have any princesses.”
“No princesses?”
“They have a president. They vote for him every four years. He's a man. Like a -” he glanced down at his piece of paper, “like a stallion.”
There was silence.
“Of course, there's nothing wrong with that,” said Twilight in a rush. “I'm sure that some stallions could do a great job of leading.”
“I'm glad we're working for a princess, though,” said the one with the heavy twang.
“Applejack!” said Twilight.
“Well, I am. She's in the job for life, she's going to make sure she does the right thing. How are you going to get anything done if you're messing round changing people all the time?”
“But every time they changed, you could have the most amazing party,” said the one who was a rather alarming shade of pink.
“We're not here for parties, Pinkie Pie,” said Twilight.
“Yeah, we're not here for parties, we're here to kick some Osama butt. I'll cram him so full of friendship that he'll be hugging people for a week,” said the one with blue skin.
“Rainbow Dash, you have got to get your priorities straight,” said the one with the amazing violet eyes. “Before we got into battle we must be appropriately accoutred. I'm afraid these clothes have neither the style nor ease of movement required.”
“Stop bein' so fussy, Rarity,” said Applejack. “We can do magic perfectly well in what we're wearing.”
“We could do magic with no clothes at all,” said Rarity. “That's not the point. I'm engaging with the culture we're visiting, unlike some ponies who would just want to kick the problem into submission as soon as possible.”
The debate was clearly going to run for quite some time. John turned to the yellow skinned girl next to him, who was fiddling nervously with her hair.
“Are they always like this?” he asked.
“Oh no. They can be much noisier,” she whispered.
“I'm John Graves, by the way. Captain John Graves.”
“I'm Fluttershy.”
They stood in silence, contemplating the arguing girls. After several minutes John tried clearing his throat, which had no noticeable effect.
“Ladies, excuse me,” he said, trying to be heard above the din. “Ladies. LADIES!”
The hubbub died down. They all turned and looked at him.
“Maybe we could actually discuss how to find Osama? None of our intelligence has given any indication -”
“Oh, that's easy,” said Rainbow Dash. “We'll just use magic.”
“As the one who has to do the magic,” said Twilight, “it's a bit more complicated than that. We can't just start from nothing. We need some sort of connection to him – the easiest thing would be a person who knows the location, though of course then you could just ask them.”
“Actually, asking doesn't tend to work very well. People who know bin Laden don't tend to like talking to us.”
“Oh.” Twilight looked puzzled. “Well, if you have someone like that, I think I could help make them more talkative.”
“Well, I'm not sure who the Americans have,” said John, “but I'll see what we can do. In the meantime would you like some refreshment? There's tea and coffee in the mess.”
“Do you want us to help tidy it up?” asked Twilight.
“Tidy up what?”
“The mess.”
Ten minutes later they were settled at a table in the mess. Twilight and Fluttershy had opted for water, while Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Applejack and Rainbow Dash had decided the coffee looked more interesting. John left them picking at some crisps and ran to his commanding officer's tent.
“Major Gordon,” he said, “the package from London arrived. It actually worked.”
Major Gordon turned and ran his hand over his sunburned face, tugging at his moustache.
“I can't believe it.”
“They say they could help us find bin Laden, sir, if we can give them someone who knows where he is.”
“Dear God, that would mean talking to the Americans. I'm not sure my ulcer could take that. They're always so damn enthusiastic.”
“Still sir, if we have the chance -”
“Yes, yes, I'll make the call. So, what are they like?”
“Perhaps, sir, you'd better see for yourself.”
John knew that there was something wrong when he heard the music. A private staggered out of the mess tent looking stunned. He saluted John.
“Hello, Captain. Who are the new girls?”
“They're special ops,” muttered John.
“Very special,” said the private.
“Haven't you got somewhere to be, man?” barked Major Gordon. The private scuttled away, and Major Gordon turned to John. “Well, come on, let's see them.”
They stepped inside. Someone had put up balloons and streamers, and a disco ball hung from the centre of the ceiling. Fluttershy and Twilight were sitting where he had left them, and looked the same except that Fluttershy's clothes had been transformed into a tasteful camouflage miniskirt and blouse. Twilight was wrapped in a blanket, and Rarity was working feverishly in a corner, with a sewing machine she had acquired from somewhere, and a copy of GQ. She appeared to be trying to reform the T-shirt and trousers into the outfit the girl on the cover of the magazine was wearing, which mostly involved removing fabric. Rainbow Dash and Applejack were racing around the edge of the tent. A couple of privates had joined in, but were rapidly falling behind.
John's eye was caught by a pink blur, which shuddered to a stop in front of the major. John registered the cannon and desperately pushed Major Gordon out of the way, which meant he received the chocolate cake full in the chest. Streamers drifted down around them.
“Sorry about your shirt,” said Pinkie, bouncing slightly. “I guess I loaded the cake in the wrong section again. Isn't this fun? Do you have any balloons? Coffee is wonderful, by the way. I'm going to have it at every party ever. Want to dance?”
Major Gordon got up off the floor, brushed himself down, and looked down at John with a grim smile.
“I'll go and phone the Americans,” he said. “I think they're a perfect match for each other.”
The rest of John's day passed in a blur. First he had to stop Pinkie Pie instigating a camp-wide party, then he had organise the removal of the decorations from the mess tent, track down Twilight's missing dog, make sure six vegetarian meals would be ready, avoid any mention of what everyone else was eating, and try to keep his eyes away from the flesh exposed by the new outfits. Why did it have to be GQ, he thought. Why couldn't someone have had a copy of 'Nuns Today'? By the time he collapsed in his bunk he was pretty sure he would rather have been on patrol than doing this. Unfortunately this feeling was confirmed two minutes later, when he was woken up by what sounded like a brass band and found that Pinkie had arranged a 'camp bed party' for him. Fortunately it only took till 3am for the caffeine to wear off.
The next day he was trying to corral everyone into the mess for breakfast when the Major approached, with a woman in fatigues beside him. When she saw the group of multicoloured teenagers, the only sign of surprise she gave was the slightest raise of her eyebrows.
“This is Lieutenant Martinez,” said Major Gordon. “Lieutenant Martinez, Captain Graves. And the, er, special ops team. Well, I'll leave you to it.”
He hurried away.
“Right,” said Lieutenant Martinez brusquely. “So what exactly can the Teenage Mutant Pastel Schoolgirls do?”
“They say that if you have someone who knows where bin Laden is, they can get the information out of him.”
Lieutenant Martinez gave him a sceptical look.
“Uh-huh. Look, my commanding officer told me to go along with this, but I know a wild goose chase when I see one. Let's get this over with. I've got someone for your girls to work on back at our base.”
They started towards the Americans' Jeep, when John realised that someone was missing.
“Where's Fluttershy?” he asked Twilight.
“Maybe she went to look for the wild goose?” suggested Pinkie Pie.
Ordering the rest of them to stay put, John ran back to their tent – nothing. He ran to the edge of the camp and found Fluttershy there, kneeling among the rocks.
“You really had me worried there,” he said rather crossly. “You shouldn't wander off like that.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry. I just heard the squeaking and knew I had to do something to help. It hasn't rained for so long, they were getting terribly thirsty.”
She gestured at the ground, and John saw she was surrounded by about thirty gerbils, hopping around the saucer of water she had put down.
“Aren't they just adorable?” she said.
“We have to go, Fluttershy.”
“Of course, I'm sorry if I made us late. Goodbye, little friends.”
The gerbils set up a loud squeaking.
“Well, I'm sure you can come if you really want to.”
When they arrived back at camp, Lieutenant Martinez looked unimpressed by the addition of thirty gerbils to the party, but allowed them in the Jeep. Her expression seemed to indicate that even that couldn't make things any worse.
It was a three hour trip, but it felt like days, trapped in baking heat, the squeaking of the gerbils and the chattering of the Equestrians forming a high-pitched wall of noise. Rarity quizzed him on the current fashions while sympathetically removing the gerbils that tried to nest in his hair. It took him two hours to realise that Rainbow Dash had been quietly planting the gerbils on him. By the time the American camp came in sight John never wanted to see another Equestrian or gerbil again in his life. When they arrived, Lieutenant Martinez led them to a tent. Inside was a private, who was guarding an Afghan man in civilian clothes. As they entered, the private was saying:
“- and don't even think about trying to escape, you low life scum, or you're a dead man.”
The prisoner said something. The private turned to a second Afghan man who was wearing fatigues and drinking coffee.
“What did he say?” asked the private.
“Oh, the usual, that you will roast forever on the fires of hell, and so on.”
“Why, you -” The private noticed the newcomers for the first time and fell silent. This caught the attention of the other occupant of the tent, an officer who had been looking at the prisoner with an expression of extreme distaste. Martinez saluted him.
“These are the experts from the British camp, sir,” she said. “And Captain John Graves. Captain Graves, this is Colonel Jackson.”
“I guess I shouldn't be surprised that British special ops are a bunch of girls,” Jackson sneered. “SAS, I suppose?”
“Actually, they're not British,” said John.
“I can't believe we're doing this,” said Jackson. “You don't have a girls' tea party when you interrogate subjects, you stick their face in the sand and stick a gun to their head and say 'Hey Abdul, how'd you like that, yeah, you're lying in the sand. Yeah.'”
“How do you know he's lying?” said Pinkie Pie. “Is it because of the gun? Is it a sort of spell? Or is it a sort of sandwich? I'll usually tell people things if they give me a sandwich. Maybe cake would work better? I could use the cannon, I'm sure I'll get it the right way round this time-”
“Absolutely not,” said John.
There was an awkward pause.
“This is Hussein, our interpreter,” Lieutenant Martinez said, gesturing at the coffee drinker. “And this,” she gestured at the other man, “is Abu, who we think is a courier for bin Laden. If we're right, he'll know where bin Laden is. So do your thing.”
Abu started speaking rapidly in what John thought might be Arabic. After a few seconds Hussein turned to Martinez.
“He thanks you for the offer, but he cannot use prostitutes as he has promised to be faithful to his wife. But he is very impressed that you got six matching ones just for him.”
“Tell him they are special interrogators who are going to extract information from him using a new technique,” said Martinez.
“What's a prostitute?” asked Pinkie Pie.
Abu spoke again.
“He's asking you not to torture him,” Hussein said. “He says he doesn't know anything.”
“Yeah, right,” said Jackson. “Just you wait. You might not have said anything yet, but even you crack eventually. You thought being made to listen to Barney the Purple Dinosaur was bad? You should what this bunch of hippie communists watch.” He turned to John. “No offence.”
“None taken,” said John. “I'd certainly class 'Antiques Roadshow' as a weapon of mass destruction, but we'll be doing something a little different. Carry on, Twilight.”
“Please tell him that this isn't going to hurt at all,” said Twilight.
Abu did not look reassured.
The six friends stood together. After a few seconds the pieces of jewellery they were wearing started to glow. Twilight opened her eyes and no pupils were visible, only a dazzling whiteness. The air seemed to be alive with some unfamiliar force. Abu started to yell very loudly. John squeezed his eyes shut against a dazzling flash of light, and a crackle of power in the air. He opened his eyes and saw only the sunlight filtering through the tent. The chair Abu had been sitting in was on its side and he had fallen against the private, leaving them both sprawled on the floor. The private propped himself on his elbow and turned to Abu.
“Hey, man, are you all right? That was some tumble you took there. Did you hit your head?”
Abu started to speak.
“He thanks you for your kind consideration,” said Hussein. “He's quite all right, but he's anxious he may have hurt you as he fell. The chair has rather sharp corners, he hopes you won't be too bruised.”
“Aw, don't worry about it, I've had plenty worse knocks,” said the private. “Can I get you anything to feel better? A glass of water or something?”
“What the hell happened to them?” said Martinez.
“It's the magic of friendship,” said Twilight.
“Yeah, well keep it well away from me, ok?” Martinez nudged Hussein. “Ask him where bin Laden is.”
Hussein spoke to Abu and he replied.
“He says he's not meant to tell you. It's a secret,” said Hussein.
Jackson rolled his eyes.
“But he has to tell us!” said Pinkie Pie. “We're going to throw bin Laden a party to make him less grumpy, and it won't be a surprise unless we know where he lives.”
Hussein translated and Abu broke into a broad smile as he replied.
“He says that's a nice idea, he could certainly do with cheering up. Apparently he's in Abbottabad, in a big new compound. If you have a satellite picture, Abu can point it out.”
Jackson's jaw dropped for a second, while even Martinez looked impressed. But it only took a few seconds for Jackson to recover.
“Yeah! We're gonna kill bin Laden!” he yelled, punching the air.
“I thought you were going to throw him a party?” said the private who was still on the floor. “I think that sounds like a much nicer idea.”
“We'll throw him a party all right,” said Jackson. “With a whole lot of fireworks.” He turned to John and the Equestrians. “OK, thanks for your help guys, have a good trip back.”
“You accepted Equestria's terms for helping us,” John said, appalled. “They have to carry out the operation. You can't just cut them out now.”
“Like we're going to let six girls take on Bin Laden,” said Jackson.
“You're going to need some help. You'll at least have to talk to the Pakistani security services,” said John.
“If we wanted bin Laden to know we were coming, we could just announce the operation on Al Jazeera,” said Jackson. “No, we'll do it alone.”
“Colonel Jackson,” said Twilight, “we came here to do a job, and we intend to get it done. We appreciate your help finding Abu for us, but we can take it from here.”
Jackson chuckled. “Sure you can, sweetheart. Have fun with that. See you guys later, I have real work to do. Lieutenant Martinez, see they get back to their camp. And get the exact location of the compound off of that guy.”
Jackson hurried out of the tent. John turned to Martinez.
“You've seen what they can do. Surely you must believe it's worth giving them a chance.”
“A chance to do what? What can they do that a special forces team couldn't?”
“I don't know what a special forces team could do,” said Twilight, “but we wield a powerful magic, the magic of friendship. It will allow us to destroy the evil part of this man bin Laden, while keeping the good part alive.”
“Just imagine that,” said John. “Bin Laden sending out messages to his followers to stop fighting, to follow a peace process. How many lives could that save?”
Martinez looked uncertain. Then she looked at Abu, who was showing pictures of his children to the privates.
“Okay,” said Martinez, “I believe you. A bin Laden who just wanted to hug kittens would be worth seeing. But how can we do it? They'll already be organising the special ops team.”
“We get there first” said John.
Twenty minutes later they were heading out of the American camp, with Abu and Hussein hidden in the back. Until they were out of sight they stayed on the road back towards the British camp; then Lieutenant Martinez turned round and headed towards the border with Pakistan. It was uncomfortable even for John; all the Equestrians had sweat running down their faces, and Spike panted on the floor. At last the sun set and everything was black except for the tiny strip of land the headlights illuminated in front of them. After several hours they came to a couple of huts and a pole across the road. John turned to Twilight.
“You're sure this is going to work?”
“Trust me,” she said, with a confident smile. “We'll be through in no time.”
A man holding a rifle came out of the hut, smoking a cigarette. As he walked up to the passenger side window, Twilight closed her eyes. The man finished his cigarette, ground it out under his boot, and looked at John. His eyes widened. He started to talk very fast.
“What's he saying?” whispered Pinkie.
“He's saying...” Hussein looked confused. “Mom, what are you doing here, you always told me the border was too dangerous for me, but it's ok for you to go looking for a bargain in Kabul? Yes I am smoking again, it's my life and I'll do what I want. Yes, I know cousin Islam doesn't smoke... and has a better job.” Hussein paused as the guard threw up his hands and started to yell, his rifle waving in the air. “I don't know when you're going to get grandchildren, girls don't exactly grow on trees round here. You know, some some mothers would be proud that their son was serving their country. All right, all right, I'll let you through.”
They drove on.
“Wow,” said Martinez. “I think that would definitely count as cruel and unusual punishment.”
“I thought he'd be pleased to see her,” said Twilight, crestfallen.
“Could you do that at bin Laden's compound? Make them think we were friends?” said John.
“Not if there will be more than one or two people. But I have an idea...”
The building in Abbottabad was easy to find – it was the one with the tallest concrete wall around it. In the darkness, thirty tiny figures hopped towards it. One by one they approached and squeezed under the gate. The guards standing on either side ignored them.
“Oh, I do hope they don't get hurt,” whispered Fluttershy. Applejack gave her a hug.
“I'm sure they'll be fine, sugar cube,” she said.
“Do you really think this will work?” said Martinez.
“Fluttershy really does have a way with animals,” said Twilight.
“Actually, it wasn't too difficult. They really like chewing things.”
“Well, let's hope it works,” said Twilight quickly. “Is the first team ready to go?”
“Yup,” said Pinkie. “Come on, everyone.”
Abu and Hussein followed her out of the Jeep, with Rarity trailing behind carrying a large bag and Spike trotting behind her. Twilight watched them anxiously from behind the Jeep. As they entered the glare of the security lights, the guards shouted out a challenge. Abu spoke to them and they relaxed slightly, but still looked at the others suspiciously.
“Is it time for the party cannon yet?” said Pinkie Pie.
“Not yet. He's trying to persuade them that you're performers for a party for bin Laden's children. Just try to look enthusiastic.” said Hussein.
“Come on, Spike,” said Rarity. “Give them a show.”
Spike ran forward. He stood on his hind legs and ran round in circles, then sat and offered each guard in turn his paw. They looked unimpressed.
“I don't think they're buying it,” said Hussein anxiously. “I'll try to persuade them...”
He stepped forward, caught his foot on a rock, and went flying through the air. Rarity dived out of his way, and he plunged head first into her bag. After a few seconds of muffled swearing, he emerged swathed in brightly coloured scarves. The guards burst out laughing, and opened the gates.
“That was wonderful, Hussein,” said Rarity.
“Yes, well it's good to know I have an alternative career as a clown,” said Hussein.
They walked into a bare courtyard. There were a few small knots of children, who stared at them curiously. Pinkie gave a cheerful wave.
“Now can I use the party cannon?” said Pinkie.
“Wait for it...” said Hussein.
More children started to emerge from the nearby building. Then a voice started to yell, and a young man strode out of the building towards them. He looked extremely annoyed.
“Now,” said Hussein.
Rainbow Dash and Applejack raced around the outer wall. By the time John, Twilight, Fluttershy and Martinez arrived, they were crouching behind the wall. They heard the explosion of the party cannon, and the music start. After a few minutes, the compound was plunged into darkness.
“Looks like the gerbils did their job ok,” said Applejack. “Give me a leg up, Rainbow Dash.”
Within a few seconds they were both on top of the wall, and had cut away the barbed wire. Getting the rest of them over took somewhat longer, but in the end they were all crouched on the inside of the wall. They were in a garden, filled with trees and vegetables. At the other end was another wall between them and the house.
“Ow!” said Rainbow Dash. “There's something here.”
“Feels like a chicken coop,” said Twilight.
“Oh, those poor chickens,” said Fluttershy. “Imagine belonging to such a bad person. We should let them out.”
With a little gentle coaxing from Fluttershy the chickens and the rabbits in the neighbouring coop were woken up and persuaded out of the coop. The group moved on accompanied by the sound of gentle clucking, with Rainbow Dash and Applejack scouting ahead in the darkness. It was quiet for several minutes.
“If the Wonderbolts could see me know,” whispered Rainbow Dash. “Silent. Undetectable. Appearing before you when you least expect it–”
Unfortunately at that moment her foot landed on a rabbit rather than the ground. The rabbit gave an indignant squeak and ran off, but Rainbow was already off balance and stumbled forward until she hit a wall of warm fur. There was a disgruntled moo from the darkness.
“Very silent, Rainbow,” said Applejack. “Easy there, little doggie. Come on, guys, go round either side of it.”
As the group moved forward they started to be aware of the thud of hooves behind them. It slowly increased in tempo, and they broke into a jog.
The garden guards were not enjoying themselves; not only were they on the night shift, but the lights had gone out and they were left in darkness apart from their torches. The night seemed to be even more full of rustling than usual, and the cow sounded restless. They clutched their guns, ready to defend themselves. There was a thumping of hooves, and their torches picked up a confusing mass of colours, feathers and fur. The one thing that was absolutely unmistakeable was the very angry cow at the back. They fumbled with the keys, and managed to get the door open just in time to be hit by the first wave of chickens. Twilight ran forward, followed by the others. She dashed through the door and then straight on through another. John pulled her through the door of a building on their left. The others piled in after them, leaving the cow to chase some of the guards across the courtyard.
“This is it,” gasped John. “He must be in here.”
In the main courtyard, Pinkie was playing a ukelele and singing about smiling, the children were patting the dog, and a young man was attempting to wash cake out of his hair. Rarity sat a little to the side with a group of black-clad women. She was drawing brightly coloured scarves out of her bag, which a few of the women were trying on.
“And this one,” she said, “would go perfectly with your eyes, Raifa. And with just a few strategic seams, the hang of your dress would match your figure beautifully.”
Hussein translated. The woman smiled and took the scarf, looping it over her head.
“It looks lovely,” said Rarity.
There was a strange sound from beyond the wall, a combination of clucking, mooing and screaming. The young man took his head from under the tap and ran towards it, small pieces of soggy cake dropping from him.
“I think I'd better go see if anyone in the house wants anything,” said Rarity smoothly. “Come on, Pinkie.”
“I'll be back soon, guys” said Pinkie, leaving them crowded round Spike.
They ran into the building, followed by Hussein. In the corridor they were almost hit by the oncoming wave of chickens, but managed to duck onto the stairs. Twilight ran up to them, putting on her tiara and nearly tripping over a rabbit in the process.
“Quick, we think he's on the top floor,” she said.
They dashed up the stairs. At the top there was a room only furnished with a mattress, from which a tall, bearded man had risen.
“That's him.” said Martinez. Twilight closed her eyes, and the night grew dry and taut. The jewels each of them wore began to glow. Martinez looked down over the banister – there was a young man running up the stairs, dripping water and cake. Before she could reach forward he grabbed at Rarity, tearing the jewel from her throat and holding it triumphantly.
Bin Laden reached for one of his guns.
“You swine!” yelled John, and landed a blow on the young man's cheek. He staggered back, missed his step, and fell down the stairs. John jumped down, picked up the jewel, and tossed it to Rarity. As bin Laden raised his gun, she caught it. A blazing light shone out. John screwed up his eyes against it, but it shone blood red through his eyelids. Then there was darkness again. He opened his eyes and walked up the stairs. There was no sign of bin Laden except for a beard floating gently towards the floor.
“Oh dear,” said Twilight. “It seems that his beard was the only part of him that wasn't evil.”
“So that's how it happened sir,” said Martinez. “We got bin Laden. The DNA evidence is right there.”
“I should have you court martialled,” shouted Jackson. “How dare you go against a direct order? I have Vice-Admiral McMagpie waiting to take my call about the preparations. You stay right there and see what he thinks of your behaviour.”
He tapped on his laptop and a grey haired man in a Vice-Admiral's uniform appeared. The picture froze and the sound cut out for the few seconds, and then McMagpie started yelling at someone offscreen about never getting a decent connection. He turned back to Jackson.
“How are the preparations, Colonel?” he barked.
“I'm afraid there has been a slight hitch,” said Jackson. “Bin Laden is dead.”
“Dead?” The picture became jumpy. “What – wrong – plan?”
“A team of six operatives from the British camp pre-empted our strike. They were aided by one of the British officers and Lieutenant Martinez, sir.”
“Connection's terrible. – six? Seal Team six?”
“No sir. Six girls and a dog.”
“Still not – you. Seal Team six and a dog?”
“I think there's a misunderstanding sir. Let me explain-”
“– sure bin Laden is dead?”
“We've sent you a sample for DNA testing.”
“Make sure you get a nice video – atmospheric – President likes – got to go.”
The screen went black.
“Get out of here before I change my mind about that court martial,” said Jackson.
They trooped outside.
“I hope you don't get in too much trouble,” said Martinez.
“We're all alive, that's the main thing. But I thought you would be happier about it,” said John.
“I am – I mean, of course I am. But I guess I feel like nothing else is ever going to be as simple again.”
“I guess so. But on the bright side, this is probably the last operation you'll have to do involving gerbils.”
Martinez smiled, and they shook hands. Then John and the Equestrians headed for the waiting Jeep.
Back at the British camp, John propped up the mirror. He turned to face the girls, a lump rising in his throat.
“I'm really going to miss you,” he said.
He held out his hand stiffly to Twilight, but she ran forward and hugged him tightly. His first reaction was to stiffen in terror, his arms held stiffly out from his sides, but after a few seconds he managed to relax enough to gently pat her on the back. Then Rarity came forward, followed by the others, until he was surrounded, being hugged from all sides.
“Try to get something done about your uniforms,” said Rarity. “Ready to fight does not have to mean without style.”
“Don't forget to leave some food out for the gerbils,” said Fluttershy. “And try to be understanding if they chew through your power cables. They don't like the lights much.”
“Remember to have a party sometimes!” said Pinkie Pie.
“Yeah, don't work yourself too hard,” said Applejack.
“But don't forget to train. You guys are kind of slow,” said Rainbow Dash.
“We're just all so glad we could help,” said Twilight.
“Yes, well, thank you,” said John, disentangling himself from the group hug. “You all did jolly well, and we're very grateful. Take good care of yourselves.” He leaned down to give Spike a pat on the head, and was rewarded with a paw shake.
Then, one by one, they disappeared through the mirror. When they were all gone, John reached out and touched the surface. It was hard and smooth. His puzzled face stared back at him. Major Gordon walked in behind him.
“So, Captain Graves, I gather you managed to assassinate the world's most wanted terrorist in the most annoying way possible for the Americans.”
“It wasn't really me, sir,” said John. “It was them.”
“Well, I'd strongly suggest you keep your role quiet. Otherwise you'll be walking round with a target on your back. Just attempt to appear completely harmless.”
They walked out of the tent.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something that's been bothering me, sir. The body armour for women soldiers is really badly fitting. I'm going to start a campaign to improve it.”
“I couldn't have thought of a better cover. Very cunning. Maybe you should ask for nicer fabric as well.”
“I was thinking of doing that, sir.”
“Jolly good. Come and have a beer.”