The Medallion
Con Mane
Admiral Biscuit
“Going somewhere, Joe?”
I shifted my eyes to see the reflection in the mirror. Sweets, my waitress and right-hoof mare, was standing in my office door, a damp rag in one hoof and a look of bemusement on her face. With good reason—I don't think she'd ever seen me dressed up.
“I'm off to a reception at Prince Blueblood's estate,” I said. “It's a long shot, but if I can make him believe that donuts aren’t ‘common carnival fare,’ it might bring about a little boost in business.”
Sweets let out a little snort. “He’ll change his ways when you sprout wings and fly. You just managed to snag an invite, and you're gonna hobnob with the nobles and leave me here all by myself, aren't you?”
I leaned down and carefully slid my cufflinks into place, thanking Celestia that I'd thought to bring my tuxedo to work—I hadn't planned for the afternoon rush, and didn't have time to trot home and get it.
I gave Sweets a reassuring smile. “Okay, so I probably won't be able to sway Blueblood. Might be some other party-goer who'll see things my way, though.”
She punched me lightly on the back. “Oh, Joe, don't let me spoil your fun. I'm just teasing. You don't take enough time to yourself. Get out of here—there are things besides a donut shop in life, you know.” She gave me a wicked grin. “Who knows, you might find some cute little pegasus there.”
“Thanks for the show of support.” I tugged my bowtie straight and turned around to face her. “How do I look?”
She reached up and brushed a strand of my mane back. “Knock 'em dead.”
I rolled my eyes. “I swear, Sweets, ever since you had your foal, you've been acting more and more like my mother.”
“You love it, Joe,” she assured me, sticking her tongue out.
I could have trotted across town and gotten to Blueblood's mansion in a half-hour, easy, but one doesn't just arrive at a Prince's reception on hoof. I took a short taxi trip across town, winding up at a rundown stable on the south end of Canterlot. The cabby raised an eyebrow at my choice of destinations, but he said nothing, just took my bits and clopped off in silence.
Once he was gone, I gave the secret knock on the front door and stepped back. The spy-hole in the door slid open, and a pair of rheumy eyes scrutinized me from inside the dim room. I heard the soft clicking as the latches slid back, and the door opened to admit me.
As soon as I was safely inside, the stallion glared at me. “You're late,” he hissed, his faded blue irises barely visible under his slit eyes.
“I couldn't get away any sooner,” I apologized. “Sweets would have thought it odd if I’d left in the middle of the afternoon rush..”
He kept grumbling under his breath as he stomped into the next room, his tail flicking from side to side in agitation, and it was with the barest of civility that he hoofed over a duffel bag and pushed a pair of invitations into my breast pocket.
“Two invites?”
That got him to break into a small smile. “Your marefriend.”
“I don't—“
“You do now.” There was a slight skip in his step as he led me into the next room. The bastard.
“Joe, meet your marefriend.” He motioned to a light magenta mare wearing an expensive-looking gala dress. Her violet mane was expertly permed, and held in place with a diamond clasp which was a perfect match to the necklace draped around her throat.
“I'm Charm,” she said. “Pleased to meet you, Joe.”
“I've never had a partner before,” I protested.
“Four eyes are better than two,” she said sweetly. “Come along, Joe, we don't want to be late.”
I grabbed my duffel in my field and let her lead me to the waiting carriage. Being a gentlecolt, I helped her in, and my opinion of her rose as I put a hoof on her flank—she might have looked like eye candy, but I could feel the muscles under her coat, and despite the seeming confines of her dress, she moved like a dancer.
We quickly got underway, the team setting a brisk pace through town. I opened the duffel bag and began to slide my supplies into clever pockets in my tuxedo—it had cost a fair number of bits to have the jacket fitted, but the last thing I wanted was for suspicious bulges to give the game away. Naturally, Charm had it easy—she could carry nearly anything in her dress, and nopony would know.
Her eyes lit up as I opened the velvet sack and pulled out the medallion. A clever forgery, it was in all ways identical to the one Blueblood kept in his study—except, of course, this one wasn't cursed. I’d been in favor of letting him put it on, become possessed by a malevolent spirit, and ultimately die horribly, but my superiors hadn’t wanted to deal with the mess that would cause.
I looked at it thoughtfully. She could hide it anywhere and nopony would know—but did I trust her that far? I decided that I didn't, and slipped it into the side pocket of my tux.
Satisfied that I had everything I'd need for the night, I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes, mentally reviewing the layout of Blueblood's estate. I'd been up late several nights going over the floor plan again and again, plotting out access routes and escape routes.
Before I was really prepared, the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the mansion. A doorpony was waiting there, step-stool at the ready. He gave Charm a helping hoof, but left me to my own devices. I showed him our invitations, and he promptly turned us over to the butler before giving his attention to the next carriage.
We went in shoulder-to-shoulder, almost but not quite touching. The butler announced us, and Blueblood gave me a brisk hoof-shake, and pecked Charm on the cheek. For just a moment, a wave of jealousy washed over me, when I saw how he was looking at—everypony knew about Blueblood's habits—but I could work with that. I could turn it to my advantage.
Charm saw the opportunity as well. “Oh, Prince Blueblood, you're too kind,” she said sweetly, nuzzling his cheek. “I just recently moved to Canterlot, and of course I heard of your marvelous garden parties, and the fete you held last autumn, and I told Joe here that we simply had to attend the next one.”
“Excuse me, my dear,” I said. “Over by the buffet table—it's Fancy Pants. Do you mind if I go and introduce myself?”
“Not at all!” She looked at me brightly for a second, before returning her attention to Blueblood. “We'll just have a nice little chat. Perhaps I can persuade Prince Blueblood to show me some of his private . . . collection. I've heard it's unparalleled.”
“You heard correctly, my dear,” Blueblood said as I walked off, barely resisting the urge to punch him in the face on general principle.
I did make sure to introduce myself to Fancy Pants—there was no telling who might be watching, who might have overheard our conversation. Then I decided to avail myself of the buffet, which also gave me the opportunity to see who else was present.
Like most high-born unicorns, Blueblood was more of a believer in appearance than effectiveness, and his guards were easy to identify. He would have done better to have ordinary-looking ponies blending in with the crowd to augment the flashy guards, but that would not have fed his vanity. I'd spotted them all before I even finished my plate of hors d'oeuvres.
I spent the next hour waiting for my opportunity. The party dragged on, and the wine flowed like water; soon, the crowd got loud enough to drown out the chamber orchestra. All the while Blueblood circled the room like a hawk, looking for unattached mares—although he kept going back to Charm, who was doing an admirable job of keeping him distracted.
As he moved to the center of the room, I saw my moment. He began loudly announcing his latest charitable venture—more of a feel-good proposal than anything that would have an actual effect, I assumed—and I ducked into the hallway that led to the bathroom.
I shut and bolted the door behind me and quickly opened the window. It was a tight fit, but I made it through, and galloped across the lawn to the south wing of his house. Blueblood had far too much faith in his guards; to my surprise, the Prench doors to his conservatory weren't even locked.
I wiped my hooves on the mat, and lit my horn with the barest of glows, just enough to avoid tripping over any furniture before moving through the room. Once I was at the hallway door, I stuck an ear against it and listened for any noise.
The hallway was blessedly empty, and I took a moment to orient myself before heading to his study. I put a hoof on the handle and pushed.
Blueblood wasn't quite that trusting, apparently. This door was locked.
Fortunately, I knew the right ponies, and I had the cure for that lock in my breast pocket. I slipped out a slender case of tools and went to work. It felt like I was in that hallway forever, horribly exposed, but it probably took less than thirty seconds before I felt the tumblers slide home, and I was in.
The medallion sat on a marble column in the center of the room. Even in my pale horn-light it was obvious. I didn't approach it right away; first I re-locked the office door. No sense having somepony follow me in that easily. Unless I missed my guess, not many ponies would have a key to Blueblood's study, and that ought to buy me some more time.
I examined the medallion carefully. It looked perfectly innocuous to the naked eye, but once I began scanning it with my horn, the wards jumped out at me. There was nothing particularly harmful—Blueblood wasn’t that much of a fool. I licked my lips and began teasing apart the enchantments. This was its own sort of puzzle, one I'd excelled at back at the academy. Once I knew just how the spells were interlaced, I could defuse them, switch the medallions, and be back to the party before anypony knew I was missing. Charm and I could then quietly take our leave, and it would be days or weeks before the substitution was noticed—if it ever was. Regardless of when the theft was noticed, by tomorrow the medallion would be disenchanted and melted down, before some moron put it around his neck.
It was a great plan, and if I'd had a few more minutes, it's exactly what I would have done. But my blood ran cold as I heard a voice from outside say, “I thought I just saw somepony go in the office.”
“I'll get a key,” a second voice replied.
Okay, Joe. Plan B: bold smash-and-grab. I bucked the plinth over, wincing as the wards went off. It took but a moment to lift the real medallion off the floor and replace it with the fake one.
To throw anypony off my tracks, I stopped by Blueblood's desk and tore open the drawers, scattering papers across the room to make it look like my actual target had been there, and broke a glass case full of bejeweled cufflinks, snatching them all up in my aura and spraying them across the room. Accounting for them all would take some poor pony a half hour, at least, and make it less likely that they’d give the medallion anything more than a cursory glance.
I grabbed the window in my aura and yanked it inward, flinching as broken glass sprayed across the carpet. At first glance, it would look like somepony had broken in from outside, hopelessly confusing the guards. The door shuddered in its frame as whoever was outside shoulder checked it, but I didn't care. For all his skimping on security, the doors were solidly-built. One more second, and I was free.
I jumped out the window, casting a gravity spell on myself. Sadly, I wasn't particularly skilled at them, and I hit the ground hard, but it was still a lot better than an unslowed fall.
It was only a matter of time before somepony saw me on the lawn, so I galloped directly back to the safety of the bathroom.
I ducked back inside, slammed the window closed and locked it, pulled the curtains shut, and turned on the light. It only took me a moment to empty everything out of my pockets—except for the medallion, of course—and dump it into the toilet tank. It'd be found sooner or later, but I'd be long gone by then.
I wiped the sweat off my face with a towel, brushed my hooves clean, patted my tuxedo back into shape, and headed back to the party.
Charm spotted me as soon as I slipped back into the room. She was standing right next to Blueblood, and I gave her a little nod, followed by a small hoof gesture across my neck. I didn't dare risk anything else, but she got the message.
I considered my options. By now they would have gotten into Blueblood's study, and unless his guards were complete idiots, they would have found the hoofprints leading back to the bathroom. At that point, they'd probably wonder if it had been one of the party guests who'd committed the burglary—and it wouldn't take them long to find out I'd been missing. I could protest my innocence, but if anypony checked my pockets, I was doomed. I couldn't explain away the medallion.
Trust in Charm, I thought. I waited until she was looking in my direction, and bumped into the mayor of Baltimare—hard. “Sorry,” I mouthed. “Too much to drink.”
“Hmf.” He stuck his muzzle in the air, but that had been all the opportunity I needed to transfer the medallion, and I was sure Charm had figured out what I'd just done.
A minute later, I was wondering if I'd over-reacted—but just then I felt a hoof on my shoulder.
“Come with me, Joe.”
I turned to look into the hard face of one of the guards.
“What's this about?”
“I think you know.” I could have made a break for it, but that would have been a clear admission of guilt, and might have jeopardized the whole mission and blown my cover.
Two other guards were waiting in the hall, and they pressed me up against the wall. “What's going on? What did I do?”
“Somepony just broke into Blueblood's office,” one of them hissed. “I think it was you—you spent an awfully long time away from the party. Turn out your pockets.”
“What if I don't?” I put a little tremble in my voice—I couldn't act too eager to comply, and I needed to make sure Charm had the opportunity to do what needed to be done.
He shrugged. “Then I'll rip off your jacket and go through your pockets myself.”
“I didn't do anything,” I whined as I began reaching into my pockets and turning them inside out.
Of course, they weren't satisfied when their search turned up nothing, and they patted me down in an overly-personal manner . . . and still found nothing. Two of the guards exchanged an uneasy glance. “What if—“ one of them began.
“I know he did it. Maybe he just didn't have time to steal anything, or maybe he hid it somewhere else.”
They should have taken me further away, but they weren't that clever. The doors to the ballroom opened, and a fancy mare hesitated in the hallway, uncertain what to make of me with all my pockets turned out and my bowtie askew, surrounded by three buff stallions. She gave out a faint gasp, and then Charm galloped to my rescue.
She burst through the doors, her face livid, with Blueblood hot on her heels. “What are you doing?” she shouted at the guards. “Release my stallion at once!”
Charm spun to face Blueblood, and in full view of every single guest, smacked him in the cheek—hard. “How dare you! I cannot believe—I am not that kind of mare, Prince Blueblood! Joe, we are leaving at once.”
All three guards and Blueblood exchanged a 'what just happened?' look as Charm grabbed my hoof and dragged me back into the ballroom. Everypony's eyes were on us as she stormed towards the front door, her muzzle held high.
Without waiting for the doorpony, she practically dragged me to the line of waiting carriages, and—for the benefit of any who might be listening—muttered all the while about how insulted she was that Blueblood had ordered his guards to rough me up. I kept playing the role of the injured innocent, risking one glance back to see if anypony was following us, but nopony was.
Once we were safely clear of the estate, I leaned close to her ear. “Did you get it?”
She nodded. “On my way out to rescue you. I knocked him over, poor stallion. What in Tartarus were you thinking?”
“It was the only way,” I assured her. “Trust me, when they search the room and find nothing missing, they'll just brush it under the rug. Blueblood can't afford to admit he's been suckered.
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Double-oh Joe?
I can dig it.
dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/37540750/_ponies/like%20this%20fic.jpg
Bog-standard 2-man heist.
Not much to say about this one. Competently written for a one-shot, but I was hoping for a little more noir influence.
5171639
I could probably do noir, but I'd have to read a few good books in the genre first (which ain't happening before November). Any suggestions?
This was mostly influenced by Alistair MacLean's novels.
Wow. You, sir, are an asshole.
Too bad that he didn't fail after pulling something like that, he deserved it.
5172243
Except that the point of the entire operation was to keep the damn thing from killing anyone.
Asshole or not, Joe saved a minimum of one life, and likely several others besides, from death by demonic possession.
If the operation had failed, innocents would have died.
5172463
Yeah, that's true. It would've been better to wish him failure in another operation. Still, the disregard for life expressed was appalling. If Con Mane had his way, those ponies would've died as well.
5172605
I'm not saying you're wrong, but to be fair, this IS Blueblood we're talking about here.
The hate is understandable, even if it isn't condonable.
I'll have a coffee. Shaken; not stirred.
Holy crap that was awesome. As much as I'm waiting for the next chapter of OttPP, another one of these would be cool, too.
Of the One-shot-ober fics, I think this is my favorite premise.
5173608
Not Mares?
5173425
I am thinking of doing a series of these. Maybe with Donut Joe, maybe with an OC--I'm a little undecided of the best approach. I haven't written any real action stories in quite a while, so my skills are a bit rusty, but I think I can get back into it. 5171639 wants to see a bit of a more 'noir' bent, and I think I might be able to pull that off, too.
5173805 Awesome! maybe you can combine some Rl knowledge and make a noir mystery about why a wagon broke down or something.
5173805
I'd definitely be interested in seeing more stories like this one too. Especially if you do come up with a good way to make a fascinating real-world-inspired mystery based on the inexplicable breaking down of a wagon.
5174009
5175869
While I'm not sure I could come up with a convincing plot based around a wagon failure (except incidentally), one of the fine traditional locations for murder mysteries was aboard a train in travel--and they have trains in Equestria. (Heck, they did it in the show.) I'm working on the plot for another action fic. It's still hush-hush for now, but I think y'all will like it.
5179201
I actually think you could (I've come up with some nebulous ideas for it already), but I'll admit a train does seem like a better homage to tradition. Whatever you go with, I look forward to it.
I bet Now had a heart attack when Pinkie gave a long story fitting of him.
This is too good an idea to stay just stay a one-shot.
5185724
Trust me, it's not a concept I'm going to abandon.
Glad to see that there is actually another legit Con Mane fan willing to make a story on this site. It's criminal how little attention this character/concept has been given. Great story. Loved it. Hope you do more so I can compare your interpretation of the character to mine.
5360190
Thanks! I'm planning a few more stories here and there. Might even work in ninja mules.
5360304 Sweet Celestia that's brilliant. I would totally steal that idea if I didn't have morals.
5360307
Go right ahead--they're canon, after all.
i.ytimg.com/vi/0ro65QPokxc/maxresdefault.jpg
5360396 Truly tempting but truth be told, "Ninja Mules" don't really fit into the world I've created for my series. Now dastardly villain Gustav Le Grand on the other hand...
vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/mlp/images/2/2c/Gustave_as_a_silent_film_era_villain_S2E24.png/revision/latest?cb=20130304235013
5360585
And he's got the villainous mustache to twirl, too. Always a bonus.
A slick spy story? Yes, please...
*reads*
...And thank-you. I enjoyed that very much. I thought Joe would find the fake medallion missing from his jacket, and later find out Charm took it, but the 'femme fatale betrays male hero' is about as cliché as a literal mustache-twirling villain.
It would be every Christmas come at once to see Con Mane in the Civil Serviceverse of GhostOfHeraclitus, perhaps with a cameo by Written Script.
Do you still plan on making this a series one day?
Well, that was fun. :)
Good stuff.