//------------------------------// // Agent Mustang // Story: Longbox One-Shots, Book 1 // by EngineGear //------------------------------// "AJ, just give me your coordinates, I'll find a safe landing site for you." "Too bad this ain't gonna be a safe landing. Ah'll try to force it down." "I'll get Comet on the line; he'll know what to do, please....hang on." "Listen sugarcube, this is ma choice, ya hear?" "I hear you, Applejack, I here you." ///////////////// 3 Years Later: Sept. Solar Year 1948 "Mustang.....Mustang.......MUSTANG!!!!!!!" "Yeah, Yeah... I'm coming," Mustang said begrudgingly. It has been three long years since Applejack's heroic sacrifice. A day has not gone for Mustang to remember the last words to said to her. He's been on missions back and forth, but now, instead of working field cases, Mustang was stuck compiling data, facing indifference from his superiors, and treated condescendingly. He's been demoted to rookie status for almost six months; all because he punched a drunken agent for badmouthing AJ. "We need that report on the last mission status, pronto." his boss said, toning a cigar. "And while you're at it, get me that the boys some coffee, will ya?" Mustang sighed. "Yes sir," With that, Mustang went to pick up the mission files. Once he got the files and coffee, he overlooked an important case file codenamed "Argos." It's been labeled as a Class 10 mission and whenever there was a Class 10 mission, it would usually take a dozen agents to complete it. But this was different; nopony has ever completed this mission...ever. "Uh, sir, What's with Mission: Argos?" Mustang questioned. "Just a very difficult mission we've been trying to complete for over two years now. But why am I even telling you this? Get back to work, rookie." "But, sir. This mission seems important. Maybe I should report this to the higher ups." "Look, if I wanted the contact the higher ups, I would've done it already. But the fact that we're struggling with this Class 10 mission is enough just to find the proper agents to complete it. So, would you kindly piss off and get back to work?" "Yes, sir." As Mustang gave his boss the files and coffee, he went back to his desk when the case line rang. "Case Line!!" the boss shouted. All the agents stood up, including Mustang. The boss answered the phone. "Class X Mission: Requires 2-3 agents to finish." As Mustang went to volunteer, several agents were quick enough to beat him first."Sorry, Mustang," the boss said. "This mission requires high-ranking agents, not a rookie like yourself." The other agents laughed as Mustang sat down. "Sir, I've been missions like this before, and I can help if you give me the chance." "You wanna help? Start by writing an apology letter to the agent you sock in the face six months ago." "With all due respect, sir, he was drunk and at the same time, talking shit about Applejack." "Yeah, yeah...we all miss her, sport. Anyway, get back to work." As the office closes up for the night, the boss walked up to Mustang. "Rookie, the boys and I are going for some drinks. I could ask you to join with us, but, HQ wants sompony to stay in for the night and proofread these reports. See you tomorrow, rookie." Rookie. Mustang despised that term, and how it's stuck with him for six months. It sucked working at a desk job. The pay was crummy, his co-workers belittle him every single day, his boss has no faith in his skills, and the long hours of work is stressful and boring. As Mustang finished up filing and proofreading the reports, the case line rang. "We've got a location on 'Argos'. 40.6512 degrees North, 75.9522 degrees West. The enemy will not, I repeat, will not hesitate to use lethal force. 3 to 5 agents recommended to complete this mission." Mustang wrote down the coordinates as fast as he could, but then thought for a moment, realizing that this could be his chance to prove himself. Without any second thought, Agent Mustang went to complete the mission alone, carrying a tricked out briefcase with him. Arriving at the location, Mustang ran into a couple of thugs guarding the warehouse. One of the tough thugs walked toward Mustang, staring him down. "You lost, buddy?" "Nope." "Then turn around. We've got a gas leak to contain and the last thing we need is somepony getting infected." "Wow, hope no one got hurt." "You ain't from around here, are you?" Mustang smirked. "No, I'm from Brookhaven." With that, Mustang punched the thug in front of him, elbowing two thugs by his sides and bucking the last one across the face. The thugs tried to fight back, only to get their flanks handed to them again and again until he knocked one of the thugs straight to the glass of the office with his briefcase, scaring the guard on watch. With quick secession, Mustang shot the guard's gun away from him. "Please don't shoot me," the guard begged. "Get up and start moving," Mustang demanded. The guard complied as Mustang moved him into the corridors of the warehouse basement. When they got far enough, Mustang cuffed the guard against a pipe. "How many guards left?" "F-F-Four." "Including you?" the guard nodded. "Alright, I want you to cry for help, like you mean it." The guard, hesitated at first, complied. "Help!!...Help!! HELP ME!!" The other two guards went to investigate while the third went to guard the Argos. As the two guards found the bound guard, Mustang surprised them by beating them up with a blunt pipe. Within seconds, the guards were out cold. "HELP!!!, HEEEEEELLLLLLLLPPPPPP!!!!" the bound guard kept shouting. "That's enough," Mustang replied as he moved on. Using a rear-view mirror, Mustang spotted the room that 'Argos' is being kept. The young guard, panicked, quickly locked the doors; but that didn't stop Mustang. He unloaded an entire clip of bullets to make a hole, reached into his briefcase, and threw in a smoke bomb to lay out the final guard, while holding the door in so that the guard wouldn't get out, before finding the vial marked with a strange symbol entitled ‘Argos’. Before Mustang could leave, one last heavy guard–the biggest so far, decked out in a gas mask, ambushed Mustang, throwing across the room. The two fought until the heavy pinned Mustang against a wall, slowing choking him. At the last moment, Mustang broke free from his attacker, slipped a combat knife from him briefcase and threw it at the heavy, stabbing him in the head. Catching his breath, Mustang took the serum and left, not before coming back to the bound guard. "Learn how to count, nimrod." /////////// The next day, Mustang was working at his office desk when he is confronted by his boss and several other pissed off agents. "MUSTANG!!" "Yes, sir." "Last night, you took a mission," the boss said, sternly. "Last night, I completed a mission," Mustang countered. "Without even attempting to report in or get the proper authorization?" "The mission was time-sensitive." "Don't give that 'time-sensitive' crap. We have protocols. No one is above protocol. Not even Captain Equestria's old flame." With that cold remark, Mustang stood up from his seat and looked right into his boss' eyes. "Don't you start." "Please. Let's stop pretending, shall we? Everyone knows why you're here." "I'm listening." "You were grieving, so they kept you on, so that you would feel useful. I call it 'pity.' " "If they wanted to make me feel useful, they wouldn't have made me work with you." Before the conversation got heated, the case line rang. "Good, maybe the higher-ups would like to hear from your insubordination." As the boss picked the phone, his face turned stoned cold by the voice on the line. "Fletcher." "Comet Blaze...sir...w-what could I for you?" "A few things," Comet Blaze said calmly. "Since Mustang did an excellent job on complete the 'Argos' mission, I've decided to give a reward. Tell him he'll be running W.I.N.G.S. with me." "Him?! Agent Mustang?! But, sir. He complete the mission without authorization." "So what? Captain Equestria went on a mission without authorization, who do you think flew her behind enemy lines to save over 800 soldiers?" "You did, sir." "Thank you, Fletcher. Let Mustang know that you're honored to bring him the news. And one more thing...I want your office cleared out by Monday. That goes for anyone that belittled Mustang's skill on the field." "Yes, sir," the boss replied begrudgingly. Fletcher walked towards Mustang, facing him with sweat in his face. "It is my honor... to congratulate you on your promotion to run W.I.N.G.S. as one of its co-founders. Please, allow me to carry your bags." Mustang smiled. "Thanks, sir, but as has always been the case, I don't require your help." Mustang walked out of the office while the other agents were speechless of what transpired. ///////////// Meanwhile, Comet Blaze is sitting by a swimming pool enjoying his martini. Next to him was Cormack, his old war buddy, sitting right next to him. As they drink, several mares were in the pool, giggling and having fun. The odd thing about them is that they were wearing these weird undergarments. "It's called a bikini," said Comet. "...in case you're wondering." "The bikini, You invented it?," Cormack asked. "No, the Prench. Wish I came up with that idea sooner." Cormack looked at the playful mares. "Bikini, I like it."