Once again, night fell on Canterlot, and it was a chilly one. On the roof of a rather expensive apartment, Dallas, Wolf, Hoxton, and Chains all got into position next to the ceiling access door.
"Okay, remember," Bain reminded them, "go in, plant the 'evidence', and come out, quick and clean. The guy isn't here at the moment, and won't be for a while, but there are a few guards patrolling about. Thankfully, I did a check earlier, and there aren't any detection spells or other security systems in place."
"Let's get to work then," Hoxton said, just now finishing picking the lock to the door. One by one, they slowly entered, keeping their suppressed handguns at the ready. They crept down the stairs, ending up just behind a guard milling about. Once he was sure there weren't any others in the area, Wolf took him down.
Soon after the body hit the floor, the guard's pager started going off. Wolf, being responsible, answered it.
"N- No problems, here. This place isn't haunted, though, is it?"
The operator gave a quick chuckle. "No, I don't think so. Just be more careful next time, alright?"
The call disconnected, and Chains dragged the body upstairs, out of sight.
"You're still good, no alarms raised," Bain reported.
Hoxton moved forward, keeping his eyes peeled for any other guards. He found none, and he walked into what looked like the bedroom of this politician. On the nightstand, there was a small picture of the politician in question.
"This guy looks like a right wanker," Hoxton remarked quietly.
"You wouldn't be wrong. This guy's name is Blueblood, and he is notorious for being one of the most unlikable ponies in Canterlot. It shouldn't be hard to get him arrested for our crimes."
Suddenly, Hoxton heard footsteps, and a guard came into the room and noticed him. He started drawing his gun, but the Brit was faster on the draw, and shot him in the leg. "Hands up, sunshine," he ordered. The guard complied, dropping his gun. Hoxton ordered him to the ground and to cuff himself, and again the guard complied.
"That's two down, two to go," Bain said.
Meanwhile, Dallas, Wolf, and Chains had gone to the lower floor. Another guard was in the hallway, and Chains took the shot, then answered the subsequent pager call.
"I thought it was someone breaking in, but it was just my shoe squeaking."
"Okay, okay. Look, don't drop the pager again, alright? It's bad enough working for this douche, I don't need you all making this harder for me."
Once the body was disposed of, the three started placing the stolen art pieces around the apartment. Splitting up, Dallas went back upstairs, coming face to face with the last guard. Dallas wasted no time and shot him.
"No problems here," he told the pager operator. "Just waiting for my shift to end."
"Yeah, yeah. Alright, what the fuck is going on down there that you all keep dropping your pagers? This happens again, I'm sounding the alarm."
"Alright, all guards taken care of," Bain told the four. "You've got plenty of time, now. I'll have a friend of mine start sending the coke now. Start looking for his vault."
Placing the last of the art pieces, Hoxton noticed a nearby bookshelf that looked a bit... off. Moving it, he found a small hallway with the vault at the other end. "Found the vault," he reported.
"Good. You placed all the artwork?"
"Yeah, it's all in place," Wolf answered from the roof, waiting for the coke.
"Alright, the drugs should be there right about now."
From a nearby rooftop, a shadowed figure whistled, then started tossing bags to the apartment roof. Wolf grabbed them and chucked them down the stairs, one by one. There, Chains grabbed them and threw them to Dallas, who took them to Hoxton, who took out the cocaine and placed it just outside the vault. After eight bags, it was all placed.
"Okay, his vault is simple enough, electronic lock. Let me just..."
The vault door squeaked loudly, opening slowly. Inside, there were a large number of gold bars, and even a few blocks of US dollars.
"Done. Open season on loot, boys, so make the most of it."
Once again, the baggage train occurred, this time in reverse. On the way, Hoxton killed the guard he took hostage and answered the pager; no loose ends, after all.
"That's it. No more chances. Next time I will sound the fucking alarm."
All four of the criminals struggled with the weight of the gold, but they soon got it up to the roof. There, they threw the bags down into an ally, where their van was waiting. One trip down the fire escape later, they were loading bags into the van, as well as themselves.
The van pulled out, and the four high-fived each other. "Not a single alarm raised," Bain said. "Excellent work, gentlemen. I suspect this gold, along with what our client will pay us, will make a pretty good paycheck."
As they rode off into the night, Chains laughed. "I oughta get in politics, if I get money like that!"
Dallas laughed back. "Then you couldn't steal anything, anymore."
"Sure I would. How else do you think politicians make their money?"
This made sure the four were laughing all the way to the safe house.