Year 5, Week 19, Friday
The elevator doors opened to reveal a scene of chaos. Scared ponies were milling about the lobby, all trying to get away from the windows and doors. The human staff and guests were trying to do what they could, but when fear finds its way into the herd, it’s notoriously difficult to shake loose.
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” A bellowing voice cut across the anarchy like the decree of the gods themselves. The ponies abruptly found themselves stopping as one, newfoals and natives alike. All eyes turned to the elevator as the first gold-armored figure stepped out, the emblem of the Sun and Moon glinting.
Cloudhammer surveyed the room and nodded once. “Alright, I need you all,” he indicated the humans, “to take everypony to the back rooms, or to the basement. Barricade yourselves in and wait for rescue.” He turned to the other guards with him as the now orderly group of civilians started filing toward the service stairs. “We’re going to drive off or incapacitate the enemy attacking the pony district first.”
“But what about the serum research facility?” Flare asked.
Cloudhammer shook his head with a heavy sigh. “They’ll have to hold out on their own, our first priority has to be rescuing civilians.”
Lariat, Dusty, Anvil and Wrecker all nodded their assent, their eyes already growing colder as they called upon their training.
Aegis’ head still buzzed with the fact that the one giving orders just might be his own flesh-and-blood father, but for now he could fall into the happy distraction of disclipline.
Cloudhammer looked at them all and ruffled his wings. “We’re going to have to improvise, since we don’t have a conventional squad. Aegis, you and the earth ponies will be in charge of the brunt of attack. Flare, your job is to force them to keep their heads down with your magic. I’ll provide aerial recon and assistance as I deem needed. Does anypony have objections?”
Nopony spoke up, though Flare’s ears briefly twitched back.
Cloudhammer nodded. “Alright. Earth Guard, take a quick look out the front, see if it’s clear.” He waited until they were out of earshot and then turned to Flare. “Talk to me.”
Flare hesitated, ears folding back further. “I... I’m afraid sir. There’s going to be civilians around too... I don’t want to hurt them-”
Cloudhammer’s armored hoof rang as he struck Flare on the center chestplate. “I need you to drop that right now. You’re acting like a scared colt who’s wet the bed. If we don’t get out there and help those civilians, they will die. Control your magic and control yourself.”
Flare took a couple deep breaths. “A-alright, I’m with you, sir.”
“Good. Now come on, let’s go.” The two guards trotted to the front doors with the others. The street was clear for the time being, but a buzzing roar of gunfire from down the street indicated one of the gun-trucks wasn’t too far away. The seven ponies began to head in that direction, one of them spreading his wings and taking to the sky.
Corporal Burton now had thirty officers loosely under his command, but not all of them were physically with him. Soon after the attack on the Bureau had started, more of the black trucks had come around the corner, the damn minigun trucks mixed in. There’d been fifty-seven officers at that point, but some had chosen to hold their ground, buying the others time to disperse back into the pony district and the surrounding city.
“This is Unit 5-32, they’re all over my ass!” Another officer shouted out over the radio.
“Unit 5-32, this is 5-21. Take a blind corner and ditch if you can. Destroy your radio before you go.” Mark shouted back.
“R-roger that.” The radio crackled as that same damn band saw noise drowned out whatever the officer was going to say next.
“Fuck me, this is a disaster. Where the fuck’s our backup? We need the goddamned National Guard or the Army here.” He groused as he turned the corner. His blood suddenly ran cold as he saw three of the armored trucks sitting there, the one in the middle sporting a minigun. He watched in horror as the barrels began to spin, and dimly felt his hands throwing the car into reverse, but was too slow, as tongues of flame spat out and bullets shredded through his engine block. The car stopped dead, fluids spraying onto the pavement.
“Fuck, fuck!” Mark started scrabbling at his seatbelt in an attempt to get free. He saw the gaping muzzles of the minigun swinging to face directly at him, the men in the other Suburbans were getting out, rifles raised as they started to walk forward. He closed his eyes in anticipation of the coming bullets.
Suddenly, there was a flat whoosh and screaming. Well, more screaming, anyway. Mark opened his eyes in time to see a literal wall of flames extinguish itself, the men rolling on the ground trying to put out the fires. His eyes widened as a literal wall of gold thundered out of the alley, beelining for the closest truck.
“Hit ‘em while they’re down! All together now!” Aegis bellowed, the metal rhino horn adorning his new helmet glinting wickedly in the sun as the five earth ponies slammed into the side of the Suburban, the force of the impact rocking it clean onto its side. The minigun truck began to drive around the overturned vehicle, the gunner having managed to dodge the fire. As he started to squeeze the trigger something crashed onto the roof of the Suburban beside him. Turning, the last thing he saw was a pair of hooves that connected with the side of his head, just under the rim of the helmet.
Cloudhammer snorted as the gunner slumped down into the body of the truck. Turning his head, he bellowed into the alley. “Flare! Relieve them of their weapons!” He looked down as the driver opened the door and started to get out, only for Aegis to slam into the door from the other side, crushing the driver painfully. “Thank you Aegis.” He leaped down to the street as an orange glow enveloped the weapons, yanking them away, some of the soliders crying out in pain as their fingers broke. Flare’s face was impassive as he ripped their sidearms, knives and grenades off as well. Lariat was already busy tying them up and gagging them, Dusty and the other earth ponies helping hold down the ones who were still determined to fight.
Mark got out of the cruiser, knees shaking at his close call. Hurrying down the street, leaving his sidearm holstered, he slowed as he drew near the ponies, making sure to keep his hands in view. “Thanks for the assist there, I thought I was a goner.”
Lariat looked up from tying the last of them up. “No problema Officer. Almost didn’t get here in time.”
Cloudhammer trotted up to him. “What’s the situation at the central Bureau?”
Mark rubbed the back of his head, trying very hard to get his shaking back under control. “I saw them first showing up, but they chased us off pretty quick. We started trying to establish a perimeter, but more of those damn trucks showed up and we had to withdraw. We’ve been trying to stay mobile and help civilians where we can, but we don’t have the firepower to deal with these guys.”
Cloudhammer took a few steps forward. “Well, we’re here to take back this part of the city, then move on the Bureau and the research center. Can you rally the officers to help us?”
Mark stared blankly at the pegasus, then started laughing. “I’ll hand this to you, you got spunk.” He looked back at the chewed up wreck of his cruiser. “Though the cruiser’s not going anywhere...” He trailed off as he looked over at the other, undamaged Suburban. “But, I think these gentlemen won’t mind us borrowing their ride, now will they?”
“Nyet, I think they would not mind at all,” Anvil said with a throaty chuckle. They gathered up the discarded guns and knives, all the ammunition they could find, the radios, and the grenades. Dragging the men to a bus stop bench, they used the cable ties and handcuffs in Mark’s cruiser to secure them hand and feet. Mark made sure to destroy the radios in the other two trucks before they climbed into the armored behemoth. Flicking on the truck’s radio, he adjusted it to the police frequency. “All units, this is Unit 5-21. I’ve commandeered one of the enemy vehicles with the assistance of some new friends. All units capable meet at 7th and Locust. Santa’s comin’ early this year.”
A chorus of affirmatives competed for the radio, the officer’s voices now laced with hope.
“Alright, let’s go turn the tables on these bastards-” He looked up suddenly as a dull buzz filled the air. In a storm of noise six helicopters flew overhead, five of them continuing on while the sixth wheeled around, coming back toward them. “Oh shit.” He started undoing his seatbelt and hurriedly unlocked the door, climbing out. “Everybody out, right now.”
“What’s going on?” Flare asked.
“I want to make sure he knows we’re friendly...” Mark opened the doors for the ponies, waving his arms in what he hoped was a friendly manner. After a few seconds the helicopter banked up and away. “Alright, let’s see...” He opened the rear and rummaged around for a few seconds, before pulling out a roll of silver grey material. “Knew they’d have this somewhere.”
“Wait, you wanted duct tape?” Flare’s eyes widened in realization as Mark quickly taped the word “FRIENDLY” across the roof. “Oh, I get it.”
“There ya go. Now come on, the others are going to be waiting.” Mark said with a grin as they all piled back into the Suburban. The engine roared as the heavy vehicle drove away, leaving the bound soldiers to curse their superiors for choosing such a hot day for the attack.
The staff in the command tractor trailer knew something was wrong. Squad 3 of Section Beta had stopped responding, and now Squad 2 was reporting renewed police activity, these now armed with all too familiar assault rifles.
“Hold them off, we still have the miniguns.” A voice called out over the radio.
“Roger that- I got movement right! Is that-? IT’S A GODDAMNED RHIN-” There was a crunch of metal, followed by shouts of surprise and pain as the sound of hooves thundering on pavement could be heard.
“Squad 2? Respond at once. Squad 2?” The radio operator looked up worriedly. “Squad 2 isn’t responding.”
“Sir! Squads 4 and 5 reports six Apache helicopters in the city! They’re pulling back, but they’re hitting us hard. What are your orders?” Another operator looked up, a trace of real fear in his eyes.
“We stay where we are. We still have a job to do.” The officer in charge picked up his own radio. “Section Alpha, what’s the status on clearing the Bureau and facility?”
The radio crackled, sporadic gunfire ringing out. “Still working on it. The Package reports it’s nearly through the final barrier to retrieving its targets.”
“Well hurry it up, things are starting to get hairy out here.” The officer barked before slamming the handset down.
“Alright! Listen up! Things are going to shit outside, so we are going to step this up. Squad One takes the fourth floor, Two gets the third floor, Three the second, and Four will finish clearing this floor. Leave no survivors, those are our orders.” Staff Sergeant Aaron Pruitt ordered coldly.
The squads fanned out, the majority heading into the stairs, while Pruitt led Squad Four towards the administrative wing of the Bureau.
“Miller, Polkowski, Rangel, clear the side hallway. The rest of you with me.” The three soldiers moved down the side hallway, checking each room as they went. Rangel moved to the last door on the left, only to find that it wouldn’t open, though the handle wasn’t locked. Shoving his shoulder against it hard, he felt whatever was on the other side slide a few inches back, allowing him to see into the room.
Six adult ponies stood in the opposite corner, five of them shaking with fear. The sixth, a pegasus, stared at him with determination in its eyes. What gave him pause was the dozen or so foals that cowered behind them.
“Rangel, you got somethin’?" Miller asked as he moved up and looked in. His eyes widened too, and he squeezed his rifle nervously.
“What do we do?” Rangel asked.
“We got our orders...” Polkowski muttered, but his heart clearly wasn’t in it.
“I dunno about you guys, but I didn’t sign up to shoot kids.” Rangel said, a bit of steel finding its way into his voice.
“What’s the holdup you three?” Pruitt’s voice boomed, the Staff Sergeant leading the rest of the squad down the hall.
“Sir... it’s a daycare. Dozen kids, six adults. No combatants.” Rangel replied.
“And how is this a problem? I gave you an order son.” Pruitt said as he moved up to the door and kicked it, shoving the door open enough to be able to enter the room. “Well, this’ll be easy. Rangel, take care of this.” He turned and started to walk away.
“No.”
Pruitt stopped and turned around. “What was that Private?”
Rangel trembled a little, but held his ground. “Sir, these are noncombatants.”
“Are we going to have a problem soldier?” Pruitt looked around at the rest of the squad. “Our orders are to clear this building. That means. No. Survivors.” He took a step forward, putting his face right up into Rangel’s. “So. Clear. That. Room.”
Rangel’s eyes twitched, looking to his fellow squadmates. Miller, Polkowski, and Fredericks all looked downcast. Pruitt and the other two members of the team stared coldly at him. He felt his training telling him to follow his orders, but his own sense of honor had seemed to pick up a new strength and was reminding him very loudly what it was they were asking him to do. It was one thing to shoot at other soldiers and those Royal Guard, who were at least fighting back. But this...
“Rangel! I officially hold you derelict in the line of duty. If you fail to follow orders in the next five seconds, I will carry out the punishment for disobeying a superior officer on the battlefield!” Pruitt bellowed.
Rangel felt his shaking hands suddenly stop, and a sense of calm coming over him. Looking to his squadmates again, he saw the same expression on their faces. Lifting their rifles, they made their choice, and so sealed their fate.