It was safe to say that Manhattan had not been under such strict lockdown since the September 11th attacks.
Military Police had shut down the entire street system and public transit in a ten block radius around Gavin/Schummel. Any undeployed JRSF forces had immediately been activated and sent in to secure the area, as well as to protect the Bureau and Fort Hamilton.
The only thing on global news was either the stunning footage of the Potion detonation, or reels upon reels of tanks and APCs rolling down Wall Street, accompanied by clips of Soldiers denying civilians entry to, or in some cases exit from, the cordoned off zone.
In reality the chaos was less devastating than it appeared. No friendly forces had been lost or adversely affected during the attack, and none of the Gavin/Schummel employees or PER agents had been able to escape in the confusion.
No other civilians had been affected by the Potion detonation, thanks to the building's negative pressure containment systems.
The terrifying military buildup was more a precaution than anything else.
One Hutch was grateful for.
He held out hope that perhaps the events of the day would shock Earthgov into more sweeping action to ensure that the purple-tinged scene wasn't repeated on a city-wide scale.
Despite the chaos introduced by the PER's hidden failsafe, questioning of the known agents as well as the other employees, was proceeding at a remarkable pace. Hutch had personally gone out of his way to ensure the Ponies went first.
It wasn't that he held any sort of specific grudge against the species, but he was all too aware of the activism surrounding acceptable Police and Military treatment of their kind, and he had a duty, first and foremost, to protect the innocent citizens under his care, irrespective of species.
That meant ensuring that the known, and unknown PER agents in the sizeable crowd of Potion-affected suspects did not use their condition to escape questioning.
Each interrogation was carried out by a team of three; A Human to ask the questions, a Unicorn to cast what small truth detection spells could be used reliably on Earth, and a Gryphon for their sheer observational skills.
If a suspect became hostile, or uncooperative, the Gryphon would engage in intimidation tactics, while the Pony would offer a hoof of friendship. Or as Hutch called it; Good Cop Bad Cop.
Prisoners who were known PER agents, whether due to their actions, or because their genetic profiles had come up in a terrorist database search, were being remanded to the few Gryphons still at Fort Hamilton. Hutch did not know what they were doing to the prisoners in there, nor did he want to. For once, he was angry enough to want results, no matter where they came from.
Human civilians who had been deemed 'clear' were being escorted to the edge of the cordoned zone, and held there until the entire questioning process was complete. There was no sense in giving the press any real information until the task was complete.
Cleared Ponies were being whisked away to the Bureau for the usual trauma counselling, psychological profiling, training, and other forms of aid that were generally provided to victims of forced Ponification. They too, however, were being prevented from speaking to the press by armed guards, who served the dual purpose of protecting them should a riot break out.
In the past, Ponification attacks had been known to trigger flash-riots of pro-humanists too caught up in their anger to stop and realize that their violent actions made them no better than the PER.
Hutch stood atop an APC and surveyed the busy back-and-forth march of suspects, cleared civilians, and troops. For a moment, he tried to imagine dealing with that sort of catastrophe without the multi-species talents of ConSec and the JRSF.
The mental image was too frightening, so he abandoned the pursuit, and instead went in search of a strong black coffee. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
Fyrenn was not new to near-death experiences. Both in recent, and distant memory, there were several events that stood out as times when he had been sure of his own demise.
Despite that, he still felt a sense of regret, and a little fear. The concept of dying itself didn't bother him, so much as the knowledge that it was likely for naught. If IJ and Carradan weren't dead by Kryn's paw, then they had almost certainly failed to extract the information they had come all this way for. How else to explain the fact that they had been under for almost an hour.
With the deep sadness and anger of the pack, the Wisps had gone from equals, to a nearly unstoppable force. Fyrenn alone was bleeding from a dozen new cuts and gashes. There was not a single member of the party who wasn't sporting at least one fairly painful injury.
The combat had devolved from strategy to a mad attempt to ward off the incessant incoming strikes of the enemy. Fyrenn's skills were being taxed beyond their theoretical limits just to find a clear path through the razor sharp magically aided bony edges the Wisps were throwing at him.
A barb came whistling in from his left. He dodged and flipped to avoid a sharpened hoof, spinning to deflect an incoming assault with his sword.
He stole a look at Kephic between blows; His adoptive brother had an expression of resolve that bore a lethal finality. All four Gryphons exchanged quick glances. They didn't need words in this instance, they were in agreement. Better to die on the offensive, than on the enemy's terms.
The Wisps seemed to sense the change of tack as well, and surprisingly withdrew several feet, forming a circle *just* close enough that they could prevent the Gryphons from making a clean escape by flight.
Fyrenn had no intention of protecting himself anymore. His only consolation would be how many enemies he could take with him, and the fact that he was going to die in combat.
From the first day he had laid hand to a weapon, he had resolved never to pass away from infirmity, or age, or some freak accident. He had truly always wanted to go out with a bang, a literal explosive one, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
He raised his sword, and cast a final look at the hilt. Perhaps there were other benefits to the situation. He grinned, with the expression of a warrior immersing himself in his last grim recollections, "See you soon Skye," he murmured, as he lifted his weapon high, and braced himself for one final effort.
He never got the chance to swing.
The ground beneath the Wisps vanished.
To Fyrenn, it almost looked like a moment from the Looney Tunes. One second the circle of ground was there, the next the Wisps were falling down a donut shaped chasm that seemed to have magically appeared beneath their hooves.
From the ground on either side of the new moat-like chasm, four figures burst into the light in pairs; A Lupine and a Pony in each. Carradan grinned, a wolfish expression that gave him a passing resemblance to his larger escort, "Up and at em' boys and girls! It's GTFO Time!"
IJ stomped a hoof as she took to the air, "We don't have *time* for you to stop and stare! GO!"
Fyrenn didn't argue, given the fact that the stunned Wisps were already starting to recover. He expected them to issue forth from the makeshift trap in short order, and he planned to be long gone by then.
The Lupines took off in a mostly Southerly direction at considerable speed, and the Gryphons swiftly took to the sky to follow IJ and Carradan's example.
The Wisps tried to follow, but in vain.
The instant rekindling of hope brought on by the sudden rescue gave them all a second wind, and they quickly began to outpace both the Wisps, and the pack below, easily reaching small airplane speeds, even without the aid of the stiff tailwind.
The pack were more than outrunning the Wisps, the Gryphons were simply leaving both in the dust, and IJ was putting them all to shame, rocketing ahead with temporary bursts of speed so great that Mach-threshold moisture cones were forming on her wings.
Neyla found breath and time to shout across to Fyrenn, "What does 'GTFO' stand for anyways?"
Fyrenn laughed, with the ludicrous airy humor of one who has been spared the gallows, and put on a burst of speed, "It means we owe Carradan and IJ a round of drinks, is what it means."
"Enough information to shut down some low level operations, a plan to purchase another building downtown, a few design prototypes..."
Hutch tabbed through the data on the tabletop touchscreen, "Really, the biggest achievement was shutting down their access to us through Gavin/Schummel. The entire company was bought and paid for by the PER."
The board was briefing the Earthgov Council by videoconference. Some members of the Board were still in the field, and half the Council was a world away on business in Asia, but the marvel of modern communications made that a non-issue.
General Sorven gestured to Seyal, "I was present for the interrogation of Roland Gavin; He confessed to us under oath. About thirty years ago he had an illegitimate son. The company was in rough straits, and he covered up the incident to maintain public image. A few years ago the child apparently returned with proof of his ancestry, and used his unique position for leverage."
One of the Councilors shifted position and leaned towards the screen, "Did we get a name?"
Sildinar snorted, "He was too careful for that. Apparently he always communicated with Gavin remotely, and he never gave him anything that would be traceable."
"So we have nothing?"
Hutch shook his head, "It's true that we aren't exactly any closer to this guy, but at least we have *something* on him. More importantly, we just took a major asset off the board for him. Gavin/Schummel has been their main source of Potion manufacturing chemicals, and the specialty parts for their dispersion cylinders. With them out of play, the attacks should slow considerably, and decrease in scale."
Another counselor spoke up, "It would seem, then, that the operation was a success.
We'll arrange to have the Marine Special Forces stood down."
Hutch looked aghast, "Councilors! If nothing else this proves the PER has considerably more assets than you expected."
Sorven nodded, "I'm with him. I've seen enough to make me think we need to treat these guys with a little more respect, and proactive hostility."
Sildinar thumped his fisted claw lightly against the table, "They were running an entire company under your 'watchful' eyes. It took the intervention of your military to rectify this. Trust your warriors. Their instincts are *well* honed."
"This Council will not condone an act of Martial Law. Our word on this matter, is *final.*"
As the image on the screen faded, Sildinar shook his head, "I hate your human political structure."
Hutch sighed, "Join the club. The only ones who think it's worth anything are the ones who run it on a day to day basis."
Sorven started at the empty black screen, "Give them *some* credit. A single world government isn't the easiest thing to maintain."
Sildinar grunted, "True, but it won't mean a damn thing if they let their enemies tear it down before its time."
"Well? Did we get what we came for?" Fyrenn fired off the question all four Gryphons were dying to ask the instant the group landed. They knew they were being shadowed at a distance, but their exhaustion demanded they rest and eat. The Ponies, having less endurance, we in particularly bad shape.
Varan had spotted a formation of jagged rocks in the distance, slightly more east of their path, and preliminary exploration had yielded a cave large enough to fit the group.
In answer to Fyrenn's query, IJ nodded wordlessly, still trying to catch her breath.
Carradan managed to wheeze, "They sang like canaries. Three names. You shoulda seen her. It was like some kinda mental jujitsu. She knew where their emotional pressure points were and she just squeezed."
The white and blue Pony shook her head, and finally managed a few words, "I couldn't have managed it without him. He's a talented asker of leading questions, and infinitely more observant than he looks."
Everyone stared. IJ was not the complementary type.
She shrugged, "What?"
Kephic shook his head, "Nothing. I just didn't expect the two of you to ever have a good word to say about each other."
Carradan chuckled, "Hey, after what we've been through together? We're like an old married couple."
IJ glared, and shrugged off her helmet, but there was a hint of humor in her voice,
"Watch it. I know where you sleep."
Fyrenn grinned and whispered to Neyla, "Well, she's obviously not *too* much the worse for wear."
The group turned to making themselves temporarily at home.
Fyrenn and Varan were about to make a quick hunting and reconnaissance trip, when Neyla stopped them, "Ohhh no. You are staying here," she laid a firm claw on Fyrenn's shoulder, "You have three bone barbs embedded in your back right leg, and you can *not* just ignore them till they go away."
"I'll deal with them after we return."
Neyla shook her head, "Kephic can go. You let me take them out right now."
Varan nodded, "She has a point."
Kephic stepped up and added his own stern glare.
Fyrenn threw up his claws, "Sheesh. It's not as if they're bullets." Secretly, he was glad Neyla had offered to remove the offending bony spikes. They were causing him far more pain than he was willing to let on. Far more than a bullet would have. It would be a tremendous relief to have them out.
Kephic and Varan disappeared out into the night, as Neyla forced Fyrenn to lie down on the stone floor, and stretch out his back right leg. The barbs had hit home right between the joints of his greaves, and it hurt to even move his leg.
Neyla quickly unfastened the armor from his leg. Fyrenn set about removing the rest of his gear, noting that once they reached civilization he was going to have to work the matted blood from his fur, and give himself a good preen to clean his feathers.
Neyla carefully explored the offending barbs with a single talon, causing Fyrenn to wince.
She shook her head, "Don't watch. Look away while I take the first one out."
Fyrenn nodded, and stared intently at IJ and Carradan, who were busy breaking apart the tattered remains of their saddlebags to make a fire. They only had one meals' worth of wheat rations left in any case, once that was gone the only things left besides weapons and armor would be a few medical supplies, which the group was sure to expend before daybreak tending to wounds.
Neyla spoke again, "Hold very still, I'm taking out the first one. This won't hurt much."
She yanked, hard, and Fyrenn grunted in pain, gritting his beak until a few small tears escaped his eyes.
Neyla stood, and walked around to face him, "I lied. Sorry."
She dumped all three bone spikes on the floor at Fyrenn's claws.
He chuckled, "You're a lousy medic you know that?"
She smirked and raised an eyebrow, "I'd like to see *you* do better."
Carradan raised his head from looking over the fire preparations and laughed, "*Now* who's the old married couple?"
Fyrenn and Neyla both shouted, at the same time, "We are *not* a couple!"
Carradan sighed, "You two gonna just get it over with and kiss? Can you guys even kiss with those beaks?"
Neyla picked up one of the bone spikes, and menaced Carradan with it, "IJ may or may not have been jesting when she threatened to skewer you in your sleep, but *I* am serious."
Her tone was decidedly not playful, and for a moment Carradan looked a bit frightened.
"Ok ok... Good grief. You featherbrains play *rough* dontcha?"
Fyrenn raised an eyebrow, "Are you just dying to find out? Note the use of the word 'dying.' "
Carradan adopted a mocking pout, and went back to making the fire. IJ chuckled. It was low, and easy to miss, but Fyrenn caught it.
He decided to change the topic of conversation, as he stood and experimented with putting weight on his leg, which was now bleeding slowly but steadily, "Did you recognize any of the names you were given?"
The question was essentially directed at IJ, who nodded in response, "One. A Pony disturbingly highly placed in Celestia's court. The other two I *may* have heard of in passing, but don't really know anything about."
The conversation died away. As Carradan stoked the newly made fire, IJ baked improvised haycakes, and the two Gryphons tended to each other's cuts and gashes. Neyla turned out to be a half decent battlefield medic, but she wasn't much better trained than Fyrenn, with his Marine crash course in battlefield trauma procedures. None of them were passable substitutes for a real doctor.
Despite that, the stopgap bandages and poultices did wonders for the pain and bleeding, compared to attempting to ignore the wounds, or merely packing them with snow.
Fyrenn spent the remainder of the wait for his meal examining his armor.
Overall, it was still in good condition, but there were several nasty rends and punctures in the back plate that would need mending, and a deep dent in the right gauntlet. It could have been much worse.
Eventually, Varan and Kephic arrived with enough prey to constitute a decent meal.
As the Gryphons set too cooking the strips of meat, Neyla restarted the conversation, "Any sign of pursuit, or the Steel Moons?"
Fyrenn snorted, "Or Kryn?"
Varan nodded, "Yes to the first, and yes to the second. We did not see any Wisps, but they are there. Keeping a safe distance. I expect we will lose them once we leave the tundra. They will not push their luck once we're in more habitable climes where the terrain and weather advantage is ours."
Kephic swallowed a small strip of meat raw, "As for Kryn? No sign of him. But the Steel Moons are camped about an hour's flight to our east. I doubt if they want anything more to do with us. The time after losing an Alpha is difficult for Lupines, and they have their own methods of grieving and moving on."
Fyrenn shuddered, "I didn't like him, but I certainly wouldn't wish his fate on anyone I'd call ally."
Kephic growled, "I would give a great deal for just a few minutes with Kryn."
Neyla shrugged, "Perhaps you'll get a crack at him yet. I hope I'm around to see it if you do."
Once the meal was cooked, and some snow had been brought in for drinking, Fyrenn raised a clawfull of the white substance skyward, "It's not much to toast with, but I think IJ and Stanley deserve it. Without them? We would have died, and for no real reason."
Kephic nodded, "Aye"
Neyla inclined her head and smiled, Varan chimed in, "Hear hear."
Carradan blushed, "Awww shucks... It was mostly her idea."
Fyrenn smirked, "Very well, then I'll make sure we buy her the round of drinks.
You can just start a tab."
Carradan's eyes widened, "Hang on now! I *was* a critical part of the plan! Just ask her!"
That set the group, even IJ, to laughing. Fyrenn managed a few words through his mirth, "Oh come on, did you really think we'd leave you out?" He regained control of himself, and clapped Stanley on the back, "We couldn't have done this without you."
From there, the talk turned to jokes, and stories, and lighthearted banter.
Kephic and Varan even underwent some of Neyla's medical 'treatment' much to the amusement of Fyrenn and the Ponies.
The fire, the laughter, warm food, and bandages served to hold the chill, pain, and worry at bay, both literally and figuratively. A watch was agreed upon, but only Fyrenn and Neyla had to volunteer, as the group intended to set out before dawn, in order to be rid of the Wisps once and for all.
Fyrenn claimed he was volunteering to keep first watch because his leg hurt too much to sleep, but truthfully the Wisps still made him nervous. He had no desire to close his eyes until he was sure there wasn't a single one of the creatures for a hundred miles.
He spent a few minutes of lonely vigil at the mouth of the cave before he was, unexpectedly, joined by Kephic.
"Can't sleep?"
"Same reason as you. I don't mean the leg either."
"Mmmmhmmm."
The two spent the next few hours in familial silence, taking comfort merely from the presence of a brother. Too exhausted and emotionally spent to talk.
Eventually, Neyla silently joined them, but neither of the male Gryphons went back into the cave to rest. The three simply passed the few hours of the second watch in peace, and quiet.
Each silently envied Varan his ability to sleep under any circumstances, if not the noise of Carradan's snoring he was being forced to endure.
The head of the PER stared out his office window at the darkened spire of the Gavin/Schummel building. The loss of the company was a major, but not critical blow, metaphorically reflected by the tower's darkness, which stood in sharp contrast to the other night-time lights of the city.
If nothing else, it provided an excuse to accelerate his plan.
ConSec, and the new 'JRSF', were getting more and more bold.
But what he was planning to do to them would make their small victory look utterly insignificant.
No matter that they likely understood the oncoming threat. They didn't have the political clout to put a stop to it.
Once this glorious triumph was complete, the enemies of the PER would be crippled. Cut off at the knees. There would be no one, short of the HLF, to stop them from repeating the detonation in every major city worldwide.
As for the pro-humanists, the man was confident his many mercenary Diamond Dog packs could handle them. A Human, even an armed and armored one, was no match for a single of the canines, let alone a hunting pack.
His ruminations were interrupted as Veritas let herself into the office, accompanied by the telltale soft, comforting thuds of hoof upon carpet.
"They've finished installing it. Would you like to see?"
The man turned and grinned, "Yes. Yes I would."
Together, the couple left the office and entered the elevator.
The head of the PER had always enjoyed inspecting a well constructed bomb.