//------------------------------//
// III. A Simple Job 
// Story: Pony Noir: We Crusaders Three 
// by Commissar Rarity 
//------------------------------//


III. A Simple Job

 
One day, we finally had It. Our final job. We were to head down to the apartments in Hoof’s End and find a pony named Breezy. There’d a package waiting for us and we were to take this package straight back to Spike and not even peek in it. He promised to pay us double our usual rate so we snatched up the opportunity and set out for Hoof’s End.
 
 Hoof’s End, for those not in the know, was fairly close to the rougher side of town. Remember GH Lane and the Diamond Dog projects from before? It’s in the same area. It wasn’t the safest place to be, but then again we were stupid enough to be walking down GH Lane in the dead of night, so we were stupid enough to head to Hoof’s End.
 
 The apartments were some of the crappiest outside of the projects. When we first entered Breezy’s building, I commented that I half-expected it to come crashing down when we shut the door. It smelled faintly of unwashed horses and grease.
 
 “What was the apartment number?” Bloom asked, squinting to try to make out the number on a door.
 
 “313,” Scoots read off the piece of paper Spike had given us. “We need to go up two floors, Bloom-Bloom.”
 
 “Ah know that!” she snapped. “Ah just didn’t know the number.”
 
 “Uh-huh.” Scoots didn’t sound convinced.
 
 “Will you two shut up and follow me?” I asked, already halfway up the stairs.
 
 
 Room 313. The door was partly open. I looked behind me. No Scoots or Bloom. Rolling my eyes and sighing, I leaned against the wall, waiting for them. After what seemed an eternity of painful, sluggish moments, the other two fillies walked around the corner to meet me.
 
 I pushed the door open. “Mister Breezy? We’re here to pick up the package. Babyface Spike sent us–”
 
 There was a dead body. Probably Breezy’s. Lying in a pool of blood, nothing else in the room, not even furniture. Bloom made a strangled noise and Scoots made a sound that was something like “Eeeeee”. The package was nowhere to be found.
 
 I said the only thing that came to mind, the only thing that could accurately describe the situation we now found ourselves in. It was a very dirty word.
 
 
 We did what came natural to three fillies who just discovered a dead body. We ran away screaming at the top of our voices. We had a hideout a few blocks away, so we went there to recover from the shock.
 
 Bloom was curled up in a ball, shuddering. Scoots was staring out the window, watching the cars go by.
 
 “He was dead!” Scoots said for roughly the fiftieth time.
 
 “Yes he was,” I said. I was still processing everything. The words “DEAD GUY” kept flashing in big red letters in my mind. Also flashing: “SPIKE IS GOING TO KILL US”. “Oh, Celestia,” I said. “We didn’t get the package. We didn’t get the package.”
 
 “Forget the package!” Scoots yelled. “Dead guy! Blood! Everywhere!”
 
 “Yeah, blood everywhere is exactly how they’ll describe our bodies when Spike is done with us!” I shrieked, my voice cracking. I winced at the sound. “We need to go back and get the package.”
 
 Bloom had snapped out of her catatonic state and rolled over to look at us. “Sweetie’s right,” she said. “Spike’ll kill us if we mess this up. We need to go back and get it.”
 
 “Screw that!” Scoots fluttered her wings, eyes wide in fear. “Dashie was right, I should’ve left you guys for the air force academy-”
 
 “What!” Bloom leapt to her feet. “You were plannin’ on runnin’ out on us?”
 
 “You were planning on running out on us on Dash’s advice?” I’m certain a vein on my head was standing out. “She’s a lush! I wouldn’t trust a weather report from her if she just came inside.”
 
 Scoots was about to leap to her hero’s defence when she must have realised it wasn’t worth it. “Fine, let’s just drop it and go get that package. And, uh, not mess with the dead guy while we’re at it.”
 
 That sounded like a good, intelligent idea coming from Scoots for once, so I dropped it and we started back to the apartment. When we got close to the apartment, we found a rather nasty surprise.
 
 Cops. Lots of them. And heading the pack, our favourite detective – Derpy Hooves, her eyes crossed, ordering the other cops around. Derpy’s eyes were that way because she had been too close to a perp’s gun when it went off. We found that out later, on a day we weren’t running from her.
 
 “Oh, crap, Derpy,” Scoots said. “We gotta get out of here.”
 
 Derpy seemed to perk at the sound of her name, and one of her eyes floated in our direction. She locked on us and turned to face us completely.
 
 “We better run,” I suggested. We ran. Again.
 
 “Hey! You fillies! Stop!” Derpy yelled.
 
 “Where are we gonna go?” Bloom asked.
 
 “Heartstrings!” I said.
 
 “That loony detective?” Scoots looked doubtful.
 
 “Hey, she helped me a while back with that rat problem!” I shot back.
 
 “Yeah, and then we stole the hubcaps off her car so we could buy donuts. Don’t you think she’s still mad about that?”
 
 “Maybe. But what’s better – angry Heartstrings or angry Spike?”
 
 “Angry Heartstrings,” Scoots and Bloom said simultaneously.
 
 
 Lyra Heartstrings. The only private detective in Ponyville. She was a nice enough pony, a little brusque at times. She had an office downtown with her secretary, BonBon. We knew Heartstrings because she paid us to help her with a case once. She needed some info, see, and Pip had the info only he wasn’t squealing. She paid us to pressure him, we did – though we woulda done it for free – and we got a favour out of it. And after she repaid the favour, we stole her hubcaps as a show of gratitude.
 
 And now here we were, looking for her help again. We piled through the door to her suite. BonBon looked up from her desk with a look of distaste.
 
 “Oh, it’s you kids again,” she said in her thick Manehattan accent. “Lyra ain’t gonna be happy to see youse.”
 
 “We really need her help!” My words were coming quick now and I hoped she could keep up. “Tell her this’ll be a perfect way to tweak Detective Hooves!” Oh, I forgot to mention – Heartstrings used to be a cop, but she got framed by some crooked detectives. Derpy took her place, and even though she was straight, Heartstrings still hated her replacement.
 
 BonBon rolled her eyes and sighed before clicking the phone. “Lyra, that gang of ruffians is here to see ya. They need your help tweaking Detective Hooves.”
 
 There was a pause, and then Heartstrings’ melodious voice drifted from the phone’s speaker. “Send ’em in.”
 
 We let ourselves into Heartstrings’ inner office, her sanctum sanctorum. The blinds were drawn and it was smoky. Heartstrings leaned against her desk, hoof curled around a glass of Somepony Special. A lit cigarette glowed in her mouth.
 
 “So, you three came back to see me,” she said, levitating the cigarette away and smashing it in the ashtray. “Wanting my help after you stole my hubcaps.” She lifted her glass and sipped from it. The tension was killing me. “What did you think I would say? Of course I’ll help! How I hate that Derpy Hooves!” She froze, something finally clicking in her mind. “Wait, what did you do?”
 
 “Nothing!” Scoots yelled in a panic. “We kinda sorta stumbled onto a murder scene and Derpy started chasing us!”
 
 “Okay, well-” Heartstrings broke off her sentence as we heard a sound in the outer office.
 
 “I want those fillies!” filtered in an all-too-familiar voice.
 
 “Oh hell,” Heartstrings said under her breath. Then, louder, “Okay, kids. There’s a closet. Get inside and I’ll take care of Hooves.”
 
 There was indeed a closet, set off to the left side of the room when viewed from the doorway, which was where we were. Heartstrings shoved us inside and shut the door. The only light to be had in the stuffy closet was a crack we could barely see out of. There also was hardly enough room for one pony, much less three.
 
 The door to the office opened, and Derpy stumbled in, followed by BonBon.
 
 “I tried to keep her out but she came in anyway,” BonBon’s nasal voice grated.
 
 “That’s fine, sweetheart. Go take the rest of the day off.”
 
 “It’s five-thirty. You’re giving me half-an-hour off.”
 
 Heartstrings waved her away, and she walked out in a huff. Derpy adjusted her fedora.
 
 “You got any booze in here, Heartstrings?”
 
 “Yep.”
 
 “You gonna share?”
 
 “No.”
 
 There was a silence. Derpy turned her head, and one of her eyes rolled in the direction of the closet. My heart skipped a beat, hoping she couldn’t see us through the crack.
 
 “Where’s the Crusaders, Heartstrings?”
 
 “They jumped out the window and ran off,” she lied.
 
 “The window’s closed and the blinds are drawn.”
 
 “I’m allergic to the sun.”
 
 “Your window faces east.”
 
 “It’s a bad allergy.”
 
 “Uh-huh.” Derpy didn’t look too convinced. “I hope you realise that–” Whatever she said next was blotted out by Scoots and Bloom arguing.
 
 “Get your hoof out of my ear!” Scoots hissed.
 
 “That’s not my hoof!” Bloom shot an angry look, I think. Too dark to tell.
 
 “Shut up you two, she’s right out there!”
 
 “No, I didn’t,” Heartstrings replied. “You sure?”
 
 “Found prints in the blood.”
 
 “Conclusive?”

 “Yep. They hang around there, don’t they? You think they’d have an idea?”
 
 “Maybe. I don’t hang around them all the time.” Heartstrings sipped from her cup again.
 
 “Well let’s ask.”
 
 Heartstrings nodded, and set her glass down. Moving as one, the two detectives started towards the closet.
 
 “What’s going on?” Scoots asked, right as Heartstrings pulled the closet door open. We tumbled out at the feet of the two detectives.
 
 “There you kids are. I’ve been chasing you forever,” Derpy said. We were doomed. “Were you running because you thought I was going to arrest you?”
 
 “Well… yes,” Bloom said.
 
 “I was chasing you because I needed you for questioning,” she explained. “We found paw prints in the in the blood. They obviously came from a Diamond Dog. Since you three hang out around the projects a lot, I figured you might know of any criminals operating there.”
 
 All the tension in my gut released at once. I flushed to think of how foolish we were, thinking that Derpy was trying to arrest us.
 
 “The Rocky Miners,” Scoots said. “They’re the biggest gang in the projects. If anyone’s dumb enough to try to move in on Spike’s territory it’d be them.”
 
 Derpy and Heartstrings exchanged glances. Then, the police detective flicked her goofy eyes back to us. “Who runs the Rocky Miners, and where does he live?”
 
 “Fido, and we have no idea. The Dogs don’t like us pony folk much, in case you didn’t notice.” Scoots winked at me as if to say ‘Can ya believe this dweeb?’
 
 “I know where they might be,” I said slowly. It was true too – I had an inkling of what the detectives wanted.
 
 “Oh?” Heartstrings looked doubtful, Derpy doubly so.
 
 “You’ll have to take me along. I know how to get there but not where it is. If that makes any sense.” Again, true. I’d stumbled across a Diamond Dog hideout while exploring the projects. I didn’t know if it was still there, this happened before I met Scoots so long ago.
 
 “Fine,” Derpy sighed. “Just you, though. I don’t want three dead fillies on my conscience.”
 
 “Heck no!” Scoots protested. “Either you take us all, or none!”
 
 “Ignore her,” I advised. “They’re dumb.”
 
 “You’re not goin’ alone, Hooves,” Heartstrings eyed the pegasus warily. “I go too. You need backup, and not backup on Spike’s payroll.”
 
 Derpy nodded, fixing her yellow eyes on me. “Right then. Let’s go.”
 
 
 I sat in the back of Derpy’s cruiser, the two detective mares in the front seats. I found it strange that their animosity had dissolved so quickly. They seemed almost like friends – like old friends. I pushed that thought from my head and called out directions as I remembered them.
 
 My mind wandered while I did so. All I could think about, strangely, was the other day. When Rarity… When she came out and surprised me that one day. She had been just as beautiful as the day she left me. Maybe more so.
 
 And had that been sorrow in her voice as she called my name? No, it couldn’t have been. She didn’t care… did she? Did she actually still care for this grubby sister of hers? Was it possible, even remotely, that she still loved me?
 
 I didn’t have time to finish this line of thought as we had entered the projects. Heartstrings tensed, keeping one hoof on the butt of her gun. Derpy glanced over at her, not missing a beat when I called out some last-second directions. “Cool down, Ly,” she said. “We’ve done this before.”
 
 “Not against Diamond Dogs. They’re animals.”
 
 “So are we.”
 
 “Well, yeah…” Heartstrings trailed off lamely.
 
 We travelled in silence for a short while until I saw something I remembered. “Here! This is where they were!”
 
 Derpy slowed to a stop and peered out at the abandoned-looking warehouse. She and Heartstrings exchanged a brief glance, and then they opened their doors almost in unison. As they stepped out, Heartstrings leaned back in and said, “Stay here.”
 
 They trotted off to the warehouse, guns at the ready. I sat in the back for a moment. Oh, screw, I decided, I’m following. I opened the door and hopped out, doing my best to slither up to a window unnoticed.
 
 I shoved my face against the glass, peering in. Derpy and Heartstrings were inspecting one of the many wooden crates stacked up. From what little I could make out in the darkness, the warehouse was full of them.
 
 “The Big H,” Heartstrings said, levitating a syrette from the crate into the air. The syrette glowed a mint green, casting eerie shadows on the crates and wall.
 
 “Then it’s either Diamond Dogs or Pie,” Derpy muttered.
 
 “Smells like wet dog,” the unicorn observed, making a show of sniffing the air.
 
 “Like I said, Diamond Dogs or Pie.”
 
 There was the deafening crack! of a gunshot and the whole place lit up. A crate splintered and the detectives ducked into cover. Derpy returned fire, aiming blindly for where she thought the shot came from.
 
 “Stoopid ponieez! We outnumber you!” came a growling, slightly whiny voice. Must be Fido. More gunfire punctuated Fido’s statement. Heartstrings squeezed off a shot, a lucky one. A Dog dropped from the rafters, dead before he hit the ground. He landed with a wet thump that made me queasy.
 
“Okay, now we even! Maybe you not so stoopid, ponieez.” Again, gunfire followed Fido’s speech, and once more, Heartstrings nailed the shooter. I guess I underestimated her and she was really good, not just lucky.
 
 Heartstrings and Derpy scanned the rafters for Fido, guns at the ready. Faster than the eye could see, Fido dropped down, landing on Derpy. The blond mare struck the hard concrete floor, bouncing with the impact. I winced in empathy as Heartstrings pivoted around to face the Dog. She tried to squeeze off another shot, but Fido tackled her, sending her shot wild. I ducked just in time as the bullet exploded the window I was peeking in from. Glass showered me, covering me in nicks, but I didn’t notice.
 
 I scrambled back up. Fido had pinned Heartstrings, his claws wrapped around her throat in a grim parody of a lover’s embrace. He growled gutturally as she struck at him feebly with her hooves. Her breath was coming in short, ragged gasps.
 
 The beast atop her snarled wetly, slobber befouling its voice. crack! Fido’s head exploded in a red, chunky mist. Derpy! Somehow, she had recovered enough to shoot him.
 
 “Nice shot,” Heartstrings rasped, her musical voice hoarsened by the attack.
 
 “I was aiming for his leg,” Derpy wobbled slightly, eyes even more askew.
 
 Now that the excitement was gone, I could see the Dog more clearly. His fur – the parts that weren’t mange-ridden or matted with gore – was a bluish-grey. He wore a dark vest and a satchel slung around his waist.
 
 “Hey hey,” Heartstrings bent down to examine the bag. “What’s this?” She nudged it open, and withdrew a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. My heart skipped a beat. Spike’s package! How was I going to get it from those two?
 
 “Maybe the girl knows,” Derpy said woozily, cradling her head in her hooves.
 
 Heartstrings nodded, and the two started for the door, Derpy leaning on her for support. I ran back to the car as quickly as my legs could carry me. Luck must’ve liked the stack of my deck, ’cos I managed to get inside and settled before they left the warehouse.
 
 The two lurched slowly over to the car, Derpy still using Heartstrings for support. For the first time, I noticed the pegasus’s blond mane was matted with blood. The minty green unicorn was in no better shape, paw-shaped bruises already darkening on her throat. A pang of guilt worked its way into my heart for some strange reason.
 
 Heartstrings took her erstwhile partner over to the passenger side, and slowly eased her in through the door I opened for them. The unicorn picked the keys from Derpy’s pocket, shut the door and walked over to the driver’s side.
 
 “What happened?” I asked with concern. I’d originally planned to fake it, but now that I saw the damage, I really was worried.
 
 “Ambush, kid,” Heartstrings said flatly. “Hooves got the worst of it.” A beat. Then, “Found a package on Fido. Don’t suppose you know what it is?”
 
 I paused for a moment. I looked at Derpy, lying back on the seat moaning softly. I couldn’t lie. Heartstrings and Derpy got hurt for me, hurt bad. “It’s Spike’s. He sent us to get it from Breezy.”
 
 “And you found a corpse instead.” There was dead silence. I couldn’t find anything to say, there wasn’t anything to say. “I ain’t gonna screw, kid. Me and Derpy, we been angling to take out Spike for a while. Ever since I got booted off the force, in fact. If I give you the package, will you promise to help me take that snake out, no matter what?”
 
 I didn’t even need to think. “Hell yes. I hate Spike.”
 
 “Really?” Her lovely gold eyes glittered at me in the reflection of the rear view mirror. “Then why are you working for him?”
 
 Dash’s face filled my vision, magenta eyes bloodshot and swelling with tears. “To help a friend,” I said quietly.
 
 “A friend. We always start so noble and fall so far.” Heartstrings sounded bitter, but that was the last we spoke on the drive back. She dropped me off at the Haute Couture, package in tow. Time to face the music.
 
 Time to save Rainbow Dash.