Applejack and Fluttershy nose around the empty room for a while, but quickly discover the boxes are full of foodstuffs, and nothing else seems remarkable about it, save that the shelves are uncomfortably tall for ponies, and none of the brands are familiar.
"Applejack, I don't think this is Equestria," Fluttershy says, lifting up a can of soda. "I don't recognize this at all."
"I think you're right there, sugarcube," Applejack frowns down at the large bag of King Arthur brand flower, "what's this critter riding on this pony? Some sorta minotaur?"
"Um, I think maybe it's one of those humans Twilight told us about?"
"Huh, I bet you're right. Why're we still ourselves then?"
"I have no idea."
The two ponies just stare at the colorful logo for a minute.
"Well, I reckon we won't find out hangin' around in here," Applejack closes the box. "Looks like just the one door, so I s'pose we should start there."
Fluttershy hesitates for a moment as the farmpony opens the door and walks out, then follows her friend out on to the rickety staircase leading down into the bar proper.
Behind them in the storeroom, the five or six hidden microphones cheerfully keep broadcasting.
The ponies are nearly mobbed by supporters when they leap down from the statue. For a while, Twilight's mostly just hoofbumping and accepting thanks or pleasantries, but after a good fifteen or twenty minutes, a familiar face works her way to the front.
"Hello Rachel," she says, feeling a lump in her throat. The policewoman just stares at her for a second, and the rest of the crowd pulls back and quiets down at the intensity of her gaze.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Princess," she finally says. "There's turning Mr. Gray down, and then there's that."
"I know. But I feel good about it, Rachel. I know it's the right thing to do."
"I think you might be right," Rachel sighs, "because I've got some news you need to hear."
"Wait, are they sending some kind of police crackdown? I thought protest was protected."
"No they aren't, and yes it is," Rachel sighs. "Look, I'm glad so many people support you, but this one's a bit, uh, delicate. Can we go somewhere a little more private?"
"Is it urgent? A lot of people want to talk to me right now."
"Of course it's urgent! Fuck, you think I don't know you're busy? I just spent ages fighting through the crowd!" She takes a deep breath. "Look, it's about our...injured friends."
Twilight frowns, then nods. "Okay everyone," she raises her voice, letting it carry over most of the crowd, "I'll be right back." Then, in a flash of light, Rachel, Mary, and the ponies are gone.
Applejack and Fluttershy have just made it to the bottom of the stairs, and are preparing to explore the bar, when a heavy thud sounds from the back hallway. Fluttershy immediately leaps behind the cover of a table.
"What do you t-think that was?" she whispers.
"I'm gonna find out," Applejack replies, and trots into the hallway. At the far end, past the heavy, sound-thwarting kitchen doors, the door to the alley is on the floor, hinges pulled free from the wall. A hulking human in thick clothing looms over the door, a massive battering ram held in both hands.
"Well hello there partner," Applejack says, "what can I do you for?"
He doesn't answer, and instead casts aside the battering ram, reaching for something at his belt. He doesn't get it. This isn't Applejack's first trip to this particular rodeo, and as soon as he decides to move rather than speak, her hooves are off the ground and she's going full-tilt down the hallway. Before he can get his gun free, her hooves slam into his chest. The body armor spreads the impact and probably saves his life, but it isn't magic, and her earth pony body is, magic and muscle honed by years of applebucking and adventuring. He topples over, his helmet cracks open when his head slams down on the short stairs between bar and alley, and he's out like a light.
Applejack's momentum carries her forward, and Fluttershy is right behind. Both mares burst through the door and into the alley, where six other humans, similarly dressed, are waiting, guns drawn. Before either pony can react, a volley of small darts fly from the weapons, each with a tiny popping sound. The shots are hasty, but the humans are experienced. Two of them hit Fluttershy, and one Applejack. The earth pony feels a little prick as the dart pierces her flank.
She turns to her assailant, ready to charge in, aware the tiny projectile hasn't injured her, but then her head swims. Oh buck, poison. Beside her, Fluttershy passes out without ceremony, breathing evenly but evidently down for the count. Tranquilizers, then...
She's a bit slowed, but the humans clearly haven't ever met an earthy pony. Her native magic swells from her bones and the swimming sensation fades. The humans are just staring, expecting her to pass out.
For two of them, it's their last mistake. She leaps at him with speed Rainbow Dash would envy, and this is a direct, prepared strike with her forehooves against an unsuspecting target. Their sharp edges break through the armored vest, driving the polymer into his chest. Like Rainbow Dash, Applejack's used to the magical resilience of Equestria's natives, and doesn't expect the human to lack it. She's committed to her maneuver, though, and launches herself off his broken form, slamming her head into the face of the man next to him, ruining it with a sickening crack. She lands eyes wide, taken totally unprepared by the limits of flesh and bone devoid of magic.
As four more darts slam into her, she has to admit, she'd have had trouble getting all of them before they got more shots off, in any case. But the unexpected fragility of even such large creatures took her by surprise, and she let it throw off her tempo. Rusty... she thinks, before she passes out.
Not twenty feet away, just as Applejack slumps to the ground in the alley, Twilight and company wink into existence in the kitchen.
"Ok Rachel," Twilight says, " what can you tell us about our 'friends'?"
"Nothing good," Rachel frowns. "It's all a massive clusterfuck. The guy they were treating for smoke inhalation got transferred out of the hospital here. Since we couldn't tell them the injury was related to the case, and it wasn't through the department, I can't really figure out where he went. We could subpoena it, but we'd need to convince a judge it was relevant to the case, and unauthorized ponyback car chases aren't exactly up to the strictest standards of evidence.
"That was pretty suspicious on its own, but hen the feds just yanked that sniper out of our cell! That one was a legit police action, but some joker from Homeland Security showed up and said they had reason to believe he was an international terrorist. They claimed jurisdiction and just walked him out. I can't imagine we'll ever see him again.
"The whole thing stinks, Twilight. I wasn't sure Mr. Gray really had those connections before, but I am now."
Everyone falls silent for what feels like a long time.
"Well," Twilight says finally, "that at least suggests he was behind the first shooting, too. Unless he's just trying to stop us from solving that one out of spite. So I think we can call that one closed. And I guess it just means next time we tangle with those guys, I need to capture one in my magic, so we don't have to take him to the hospital or police station."
Rachel looks away, but then nods. "Yeah. My department are good people, and I don't think they're in his pocket. But we can't turn down Homeland Security."
"I know," Twilight says softly, "it isn't your fault. Besides, I'm not sure we could have gotten much more out of them than this anyway. Sure, he got his people out, but he showed himself all the same, I'd say. Thanks for letting me know, though, Rachel, and sorry I snapped at you," she nuzzles the human gently, and Rachel lightly scratches her head. "You were right, that was really important. I just...there's a lot going on, you know?"
"Yeah, I know," Rachel manages a smile, "don't sweat it, I get it's stressful. I guess you should get back, huh?"
"It'll be thirsty," Pinkie pipes in, "we should get a drink first, while we're here! Who wants soda?"
There are general murmurs of assent, and Pinkie bounces out through the heavy kitchen door, making for the bar's soda fountain. As soon as she enters the hallway she stops, and the door bounces against her rump.
"You should come see this, Twi'," she says, excitement gone.
All three fallen humans are gone, but the broken door, discarded battering ram, and three splatters of blood, one small one on the stairs, and two large in the alley, leave no doubt that this was the site of a struggle. Blood trails from the larger pools to one of the doors on the opposite side of the alley, but it doesn't even open from this side.
"I don't get it," Rachel says, "this is a SWAT-issue ram, and these," she picks up some fragments of the ruined helmet and armor, "are bits of SWAT body armor. That's the same stuff that sniper was wearing. It seems like they got in a fight with someone, and they probably won, since someone was still around to drag off the injured..."
"...but who did they fight with," Twilight concludes, "since we're all here. Could it have been Rosie?"
"Rosie's great," Rachel snorts, "but I don't think she's been in a fight in her life. I saw a customer get rowdy once, her kitchen staff had to break it up. I don't think she could hurt one of these thugs, let alone three."
"What if she wasn't alone? Maybe Alanna or Annie-Jane were with her..."
"Or maybe it was your shrine guards?" Rarity says.
Twilight's eyes widen, and she runs to the mouth of the alley, but the three are still leaning on their staves around the tree, looking mostly bored. The others catch up as she stops.
"Oh thank goodness," Rarity says, "but perhaps they saw or heard something?"
"It couldn't hurt to ask," Twilight says, "but I'm calling Rosie, just to be sure."
She starts rooting around in her saddlebags for her phone, and as she does so, it lets out an unfamiliar beep.
"What was that? I haven't heard that noise before."
"New text message, I think," Rachel says.
"I don't even know what that is," Twilight pulls out her phone, and discovers the message pops up on its own when she wakes it up. It isn't a text message, though, it's a photo. She gasps, and the others stare at the tiny, floating screen. It shows a picture of Applejack and Fluttershy, caged, hooves in chains.
"What...no..." Twilight starts, then the phone vibrates and beeps again, a disarmingly innocuous word balloon indicates another message from the same number:
"Wait for instructions."