She had half a second to react. It was just enough.
Daring clenched her jaw tight shut and tightened her neck muscles, leaning into the incoming blow so that the top of her forehead would take the brunt of the it. Her eyes instinctively closed in a wince. This is gonna hurt…
It did. Dusty Tail’s hoof rammed against her head, and she learned what a nail feels when a hammer pounds it into a wall; the pain doubled when the back of her head smacked against the floor. The pain filled her head, seemingly magnified as it echoed off the interior of her skull, so much so that she was aware of nothing else.
Ow. Seriously, ow.
The real world slowly reasserted its presence, vision blurred and every sound slow and thick like molasses trickling down her ears; the pain reduced itself to a heavy, thumping ache, like a steady bass drum inside her skull. She realized that she had been forced onto her chest, and her forelegs and wings were being tied with strong rope; her tail had even been pinned beneath coils of rope. A rag had been stuffed into her mouth, which was then sealed with a strip of duct tape, and a black hood had been placed over her head. Her shirt and hat had both been taken off, and she felt a hoof running down her tail, removing her concealed razor and cuff key.
Keep still, Daring told herself. Trying to fight back at this point would just get you and Dash hurt. Plus, if they think you’re unconscious, they might be more willing to talk out loud.
“What are we gonna do with them?” she heard Sledgehammer grunting, along with the sound of ripping duct tape and the hiss of uncoiling rope: no doubt him tying up Rainbow. Daring felt her blood starting to boil, but forced herself to keep still.
“I don’t know yet,” Bright Sparks replied. Her voice was muted, as though she had her head turned away. Daring could hear her fidgeting, a sound like one hoof rubbing against the other.
“We can’t just let them go,” Sledgehammer pointed out. “And keeping them here is a bad idea.”
“If they’re here, they could easily lead the cops to us,” Dusty pointed out, grunting as he tightened the knots binding Daring’s hind legs, harsh enough to make her wince.
“We’re not gonna have to abandon this place, are we?” Black Licorice protested, sounding like a disappointed kid being told that they were moving. “We just got here, and I liked this place.”
“I did, too,” Sparks sighed. “And I put so much work into it...but they’ve endangered us. We’re gonna have to move. Better safe than sorry.”
“How ‘bout this?” Red Licorice suggested. “We take ‘em somewhere outside of town and leave ‘em tied up there. By the time they get loose and find help, we’ll be long gone.”
There was a murmur of consent around the room.
“Okay, sounds good,” Sparks nodded. “Sledge, stick ‘em in that crate there, then take ‘em somewhere and ditch the box. We’ll have to ditch the car, too. Here; take this teleportation crystal so you can get back when you’re done. Gear, you’d best get ready for tonight.”
“Gotcha, boss,” Gear replied. Daring heard a rattling like clothes hangers.
By now, the ponies binding Daring had finished tying her forelegs behind her back and securing her hind legs. She was roughly grabbed and lifted up, a muffled grunt of surprise escaping her as she left the ground.
The pony carrying her dropped her down onto a wooden surface with all the care and consideration that one might give to a sack of potatoes. She felt and heard something else being dropped beside her, something which let out a muffled grunt and a cry of alarm. Rainbow Dash.
Dash began struggling against her ropes, letting out a muffled stream of curses and cries for help. Daring grasped Rainbow’s hoof and squeezed it gently. Rainbow stopped struggling and calmed down, though Daring could still feel her trembling slightly. It’s okay, kid. I’m gonna get us out of here.
She heard a distinct cli-click of a gun being cocked and gulped. I hope.
“Hold on,” she heard Bright Sparks say, her voice surprisingly soft. “I wanna talk to her.”
Daring heard heavy hoofsteps approach, Sparks grunting quietly with every other step. She felt hot breath on the side of her head, a soft sigh into her ear.
“You remember the good old days, little sis?” Bright Sparks whispered quietly. “Back when we could just do the job—steal from a drug baron’s safe, photograph some city councilpony in bed with the whore of the week, or go spelunking in the Macintosh Hills for some silver relics…” Sparks let out a little laugh. “That was a fun trip, you remember that?”
Daring did: that winter had been cold, and the snow had piled around the bases of the hills, making the climb up to the caves hard and long. But they’d been promised a hefty sum for the ancient buffalo totems that had been lost in the caves long ago, and the Family always came through, especially when treasure was involved. After three days of spelunking in the echoing darkness, they’d found the dropped relics hidden in a small side cave.
“The good old days,” Sparks continued, audibly smiling. “Back when we could just do the job, get paid, and go home.” She sighed. “But those days are over,” she said, her voice heavy.
“I wish you could see things my way, Daring,” Bright Sparks continued. “We both want the same thing: we want the end of all the corruption and crime in this city. We want Zugzwang and Whitestone and Coin Toss and the rest of them gone.”
Daring let out a soft growl. Sparks sighed. “Look, I hate working with Zugzwang, too; Gerwhin bastard creeps me out.”
The other ponies all let out noises of agreement. “But it’s all part of something I should’ve learned from you: the best way to destroy your enemy is from within,” Sparks stated.
Daring was silent. “If you hadn’t been part of the first Family, you wouldn’t have been in a position to stop Mojo and the rest of them,” Sparks continued. “Same with me: once we get rid of Whitestone, then Zugzwang’s next. We’ll have an army, Daring. An army that we can use to make sure that no one else needs to suffer as we did. No more gangsters. No more petty thieves cutting throats in back alleys. No more rich ponies lining their pockets on the lives of ponies beneath them. We’ll make sure of it.”
Daring growled at her again. Sparks sighed. “I should’ve known you’d say no,” she muttered, disappointment in every syllable.
Then she leaned in even closer, so close that Daring could feel the static electricity dancing between Sparks’ snout and her cheek. “Now, listen, Daring,” she hissed. “This is my family now. And I will do anything to protect them. Anything. I’m only letting you off this time because you’ve got the kid with you, and cause of our history. Cross me again, and I’ll bury you alive. Clear?”
Daring would’ve spat at her if it wasn’t for the tape, so she just settled for glaring through the black hood in Sparks’ general direction.
Sparks moved away and Daring heard her bend down next to Rainbow Dash. “Count yourself lucky, kid,” she hissed. “Anypony else would’ve slashed your throat and dumped you in the river.”
Rainbow Dash resumed her stream of curses, fighting futilely against the ropes.
“Word of advice: when we’re done with you, get away from her,” Sparks continued. “She’s going to get you killed one day.” She moved away. “Okay, Sledge, get ‘em out of here. The rest of you, start carting stuff out the mirror.”
“Right,” Sledge nodded. “I know a good place. Hey, Dusty, give us a hoof.”
Daring heard something lift up and slam down over her; the top of the box. Then the box was lifted up and she felt herself being jostled about as the box was carried up a flight of stairs.
“You sure about this plan?” she heard Dusty Tail whispering, his voice muffled by the top of the box. “It might be better to just get rid of them.”
“I didn’t join up for this to hurt kids,” Sledgehammer agreed. “But if the explorer bitch hangs around much longer, she’s gonna ruin everything for us.”
“What are you saying?” Dusty asked, his voice tense.
There was the sound of a door opening, and Daring felt the box shifting downwards as they were carried onto a porch.
“I’m saying, no matter what Bright says, I gotta get rid of her,” Sledgehammer growled quietly. “Right now.”
Daring gulped again. Uh-oh.
“Sparks’ll be mad,” Dusty pointed out.
“You gonna tell her?” Sledgehammer asked. The box slammed down hard, prompting a grunt from both mares.
“No, you’re right; we gotta get rid of her,” Dusty agreed. “But I’m just saying, she might not be real happy with you for disobeying her.”
“Scarlet will understand, and Sparks will listen to her,” Sledgehammer stated. “You’d best get going, partner. Got a lot to do.”
“Right. Good luck,” Dusty said, and Daring heard his hoofsteps trotting away, followed by a car trunk slamming shut. A moment later, the car beneath her shifted, and an engine rumbled to life. Tires scratched against the pavement as the car began to move.
Time to get out of here. Daring let out a deep exhalation, relaxing all her muscles and retracting her chest. This gave her a bit of wiggle room inside her ropes, and she started trying to free her tail, sliding it out from beneath the layers of rope binding her.
The car suddenly veered around a tight corner and she was tossed within the box, slamming into Rainbow Dash. Both mares let out a grunt of shock.
Come on...just a little farther…
With a final effort, Daring managed to free her tail. She shifted, her attention shifting to the cigar tube hidden inside her. With a grunt, she started pushing it out of her. Rainbow Dash let out a confused grunt at the noise.
Finally, Daring felt it coming out. Grasping it with her tail, she slid it all the way out and deposited it into her bound hooves (Ew, ew, ew…). Carefully, she unscrewed the tube and extracted the two razor blades. She pressed one into Rainbow’s hooves; the other mare fumbled with it for a moment, then started cutting at the ropes around her hooves, hacking and sawing blindly. Daring started sawing at her ropes as well, her attempts smoother from practice.
The car stopped at an intersection, and a faint scent wafted up into Daring’s nostrils; the scent of river water and fog. The river! Her heart rate sped up, and she doubled her efforts to get loose.
Bit by bit, the fibers started to part, the rope creaking and snapping as it broke. Soon, she could just snap them off, and she could help Rainbow with—
The vehicle suddenly ran over a bump, jolting her around inside the trunk. The razor tumbled from her grasp.
Daring’s racing heart leaped into her throat and she started fumbling around desperately for the blade. Shitshitshitshit! Where’d it go?!
The car descended a hill and stopped, but the engine kept running. Daring heard hoofsteps approach and the trunk open. Then the top of the box creaked open; Daring saw some light behind the black hood, then a shadow crossing her face. There was the sound of water languidly lapping against the shore, creaking wood, a whispering of wind through the trees, and the distant growl of a boat motor. Daring’s heart started beating so fast that she thought it might burst inside her, every beat making her head pound even harder. She started fighting the ropes as hard as she could.
“All right, up you go,” Sledgehammer grunted, and Daring heard him lifting Rainbow Dash out of the trunk. Rainbow grunted loudly and Sledgehammer let out a wheeze as a heavy blow rammed into his chest.
“You little—!” he snarled, scrabbling to grab Rainbow. Rainbow started struggling fiercely, trying to scream for help. It was all in vain, for Sledgehammer lifted her up like a sack of potatoes and carried her away. Daring continued feeling around for the razor blade.
In the distance, she heard what sounded like a dumpster opening, then something crash down inside the dumpster; Rainbow’s shouts became more muffled as the top of the dumpster crashed shut. Sledgehammer’s hoofsteps approached her once more, and his shadow fell over Daring’s face. She doubled her efforts to free herself, but the ropes refused to give.
“What’s this?” she heard Sledgehammer say and heard him lifting up the cigar tube. He chuckled and tossed it back down next to her. “Should’ve checked you more closely. Well, you can take it and the rest of your gear with you.”
This was it. With her hooves still bound and nopony around to help or hear her scream, Daring Do was dead. Any moment now, she’d feel his hooves around her neck or his blade in her chest…
But instead, the trunk slammed shut. Daring paused in confusion, wondering. Had her execution been reprieved?
But then she felt the car rev and start forward, tires crashing over wood slats. And Daring realized what he was doing and screamed, her helplessness emphasizing the terror, her cries muted by the gag.
A moment later, the car was flying…
And then it crashed down with a massive splash that rattled her bones. It bobbed for a moment, then started to sink. Cold water seeped in, bathing her hooves, embracing her wings with its chill. She panted frantically through her nostrils, struggling to keep her head above the rising tide, still fighting against the ropes that might as well have been iron chains.
Nononono...no, Faust, please...not like this...
“You sure this is the guy?” Trace asked, turning right at an intersection, the siren of his Commander wailing.
“It has to be,” Phillip replied from the passenger seat. “Unless the caller was lying, their neighbor matches the description. Former construction worker, purple earth pony, ear was missing.”
“The guy will be running by now,” Trace stated, speeding through another stop sign. A police cruiser fell into line next to them. Phillip turned to see Bumblebee waving at them from the passenger seat, with Prowl at the wheel. A police motorcycle joined the chase.
“Even if he is, we can find him,” Phillip stated.
The car turned up another road and screeched to a halt. The house before them was a simple white single-story establishment that stood next to the road, with a short, inclining driveway leading up to the garage door. A pale blue Global C series van stood in the driveway, parked in haste before the doors.
Trace and Phillip both disembarked, with Prowl and Bumblebee climbing out of the cruiser. The motorcycle driver swung his legs off the bike and removed his helmet, revealing Flash Sentry.
“How you doing, jackaroo?” Phillip asked him, drawing his revolver from his holster with his free hoof.
“I’m okay,” Flash nodded with a smile, drawing the shotgun from the bike’s holster and loading a breaching round directly into the chamber. “How’s your arm?”
“Better,” Phillip nodded, shrugging his shoulder. “Doesn’t hurt as bad; maybe one more day with the sling.”
Flash nodded and settled his face into a determined expression, licking his lips. “Let’s go get this guy.”
“Hey, don’t worry, Flash,” Bumblebee declared with a broad smile, retrieving his shield from the trunk of the cruiser. “They’ll be shooting at the biggest target; that’s me. Just stay behind me and you should be okay.”
“We’re all gonna be okay,” Prowl declared. “Because we’re trained for this.”
“All right, team, standard breach and clear,” Trace stated, checking his Filly M1912 and racking the slide to bring a round into the chamber. “This guy filleted Stone Wall, so he’s definitely dangerous, but we want him alive if we can.”
They proceeded up the driveway and clambered onto the porch, stacking up by the door. Trace’s horn lit up, sparks dancing from the tip as he prepared the flash spell.
“Hobnail!” he barked. “This is the police, open up!”
There was no response from inside. Trace jiggled the doorknob, but the door didn’t open. “Okay, do it,” Trace nodded to Flash.
Flash stepped forward and fired the breaching round into the door lock, the specialized round destroying the wooden frame. Then he kicked the door in. Trace followed up by firing a sphere of light into the room, which detonated with a blinding flare.
Bumblebee and his shield led the way in, with Prowl aiming her sidearm right over his shoulder. Flash followed up; his hooves trembled slightly as he swept his shotgun from side to side, but he moved as quickly and assuredly as the other officers. Trace followed behind, with Phillip bringing up the rear, walking on his hind legs with his pistol up.
The living room was a clutter of gear and boxes, nearly covering the couches and coffee table. The combined kitchen and dining room was equally messy, the sink filled with dirty dishes, the trash can filled with takeout wrappers and the remnants of many meals. The sheets of the bed were rumpled and tossed aside, many pornographic magazines littering the mattress and floor. There was no sign of anypony within the house.
“See?” Trace said, holstering his gun. “I told you that he was gonna run.”
Bumblebee dropped his shield next to the bedroom door with a heavy clatter, sighing and massaging his shoulder. “Well, a pony with one ear can’t get very far.” He thought for a moment. “Though, that pony with one leg did get pretty far on his own…”
“That was a silly radio show, Bee,” Prowl rolled her eyes. “We’re not characters in some ridiculous story that runs on dramatic cliches.”
Phillip paused, sniffing the air. “What is that?” he muttered. “Anypony else smell that?”
“What, Bumblebee’s hair gel?” Prowl asked, drawing a snicker from Flash and a raspberry from Bumblebee.
“I already knew Arc Light was coming over later,” Phillip stated flatly. “Saw the condoms in his pocket.”
Prowl and Flash both laughed while Bumblebee turned a furious shade of scarlet.
“But no,” Phillip continued, sniffing the air as he walked slowly towards a closet door. “I smell rot.” Drawing his pistol again, he opened the door.
The closet was nearly stuffed full with gym bags: an open one revealed that it contained two shotguns, their barrels sawn down, a dark blue jumpsuit, and some stolen grenades, including frag, stun, and smoke. But sprawled across the floor of the closet was a unicorn with a boot and a nail for a cutie mark, green eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling. The stallion’s left ear was torn away, the remaining flesh red and ragged, and his throat had been sliced open. The body used to have a light purple coloration, but now the left half was pale, veins visible beneath the thin layer; the right half was a map of dark purple and bleached white lividity.
“Hobnail,” Trace grunted. “Guess he didn’t run after all.”
“Minimal blood on the floor,” Phillip observed. “Based on lividity, he was lying on his right side at first, but somepony moved him in here six-plus hours after death.”
“They killed Hobnail because he was a liability,” Flash concluded. “But somepony else moved him...why?”
“He’s been dead since at least last night, judging by rigor and lividity,” Phillip muttered, testing the limbs.
“But if that’s true,” Trace frowned. “Then who called in—?”
Trace's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a revving engine outside.
A dark blue four-door van sat parked beside the road, the passenger staring at the window of the bungalow through binoculars.
"They haven't found the body yet," Star Cluster grunted, adjusting the focus on the binoculars. A BAR sat sprawled across his lap. "But when they do, they're mine."
"How'd you know they'd come here?" asked one of the ponies in the backseat.
"When I saw that posting they made, I knew who it was," Star replied. "I met Hobnail a few times back before Cold Bitch fired us. Just wish I'd had a chance to kill the sumbitch myself."
“I wonder why you only brought two ponies with you,” the driver commented dryly.
Star Cluster turned and shot a glare over his shoulder at Bentley Browndust, who was scanning the roads for any signs of other police.
“That supposed to mean something?” he growled. Both the ponies in the back shifted slightly, also glaring at the donkey.
“Just saying, usually when you go to a fight, you bring a bunch of other ponies to hide behind,” Bentley stated bluntly. “Like your ambush at Peach Orchard.”
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting Zugzwang to show up!” Star Cluster snapped at him. “And I wasn’t hiding; I needed the advantage!”
“And yet, you ran away,” Bentley pointed out.
"Watch your tongue, jackass," the bulky green earth pony in the back snarled. The pegasus with the brass-colored coat hissed and slid his hoof into the circular foregrip on the pump-action shotgun.
Star Cluster gritted his teeth, his horn sparking with barely concealed fury. “You think I wanted to run? To abandon Red Sun, and Desert Wind, and Monsoon and the rest?! My old partners?! You think I liked leaving them behind for Zugzwang to kill?!” He squeezed the binoculars so tight the plastic almost cracked. “If I didn’t run when Zugzwang showed up, I’d have died, too; but I couldn’t save my partners. And he’s going to die for that.”
Bentley looked at him, his eyebrows rising up towards his brow, then sighed and nodded. “You’re right, I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I...didn’t think of it that way.”
Star Cluster grunted and turned away the binoculars back up to his eyes. "Okay, they've found the body. Emerald, Cartridge, we're up. Bentley, kick it."
Bentley grunted and hit the accelerator. The van responded immediately with a growl like a dragon awoken from their nap, pulling away from the curb and down the street.
Star Cluster leaned out the window, a sparking and trembling sphere blossoming from the tip of his horn. As the car drew level with the bungalow, he launched the crackling sphere right at the window, behind which were the shadows of the gathered ponies.
The sphere struck the wall and exploded with a crash of lightning and thunder. Glass shattered and the dust of pulverized walls flew up into the air, glistening in the sunlight.
Even before the shrapnel struck the ground, Star Cluster and his two cohorts were diving out of the van and charging towards the front door of the house, guns in hoof, hearts thudding to the rapid rhythm of revenge.