Year 5, Week 19, Friday
The staff in the command truck were now really on edge. Sections Beta and Charlie had dropped off the air and were not responding. Furthermore, Squad Four from Alpha Section had not checked in. They were about to send another squad to see when the radio hissed and an angry voice came onto the channel.
“Targets secure, ready to move out.”
The staff all collectively let out a sigh and began to call into their headsets. The officer for squad Four looked at the senior commander. “What do we do about Squad Four, sir?”
The officer opened his mouth, but then closed it, thinking. “Send squad Three. But if they’re not here in five minutes we leave without them. Make sure they know that.”
“Roger that. Squad Alpha-Three, investigate Squad Four’s location. You have five minutes ‘til the bus leaves.”
“Roger that,” Staff Sergeant Fred Serrick said as he put the radio back on his belt. “Alright, here’s the deal. Squad Four’s not responding. We’re gonna go in, take a look around, then bug out. Five minute limit, let’s move!” The squad hustled down the stairs, nodding to the other squads as they filed out to their trucks. They advanced down the hallways toward the staff offices, stopping at a side hallway.
“Sir, I got bullet impacts on this wall.” One of the soldiers pointed out.
“Alright, let’s investigate the side hallway. Keep your eyes peeled.” Serrick’s mood darkened as he saw a large pool of blood in the hall, brass shell casings littering the floor. “Alright, check the side rooms.”
The soldier opened the first door on the right and recoiled. “Sir, I got bodies! Looks like Staff Sergeant Pruitt and two men from Squad Four. No sign of the others.”
“Alright, check them, then we sweep the other rooms.” The soldier moved in, rifle raised as he checked the corners, then knelt down by the first body, it was lying facedown, and he gripped its shoulders to roll them over. As he started to turn the body over, a soft click was heard.
“GRENADE!” The soldier shoved the body back flat and leaped backward, landing flat on his ass outside the doorway as the grenade exploded. “Fuck me, that was close.”
“Alright, we leave em. Let’s check the other rooms and see if we can figure out what happened here.” Serrick said as the squad moved to the next room. They stacked up, and kicked the door in. The room turned out to be empty, and they checked the next room, also empty. The last door on the left was shut, and one of the soldiers tried the doorknob.
“It’s locked sir, what do you want to do?”
Serrick checked his watch. “Fuck it, there’s only a minute till extraction. Let’s bug out.” The soldiers hurried down the hallway toward the exit.
Inside the barricaded daycare, Rangel relaxed a hair, taking his finger off the trigger. “Okay, I think we’re good.” The other soldiers relaxed their weapons as well, though that didn’t go too far to assuage the fears of the ponies cowering in the corner.
“So what happens now?” Cirrus asked guardedly.
Rangel looked over, safing and then slinging his assault rifle over his shoulder. “Well, I think that once the rest of the force clears out, the police will move in. When that happens, we’ll surrender.”
“Thank you. I know how hard it must have been for you to do what you did,” Cirrus said.
“Don’t, I didn’t do it for you, I did because of them.” He gestured with a hand toward the foals.
Cirrus nodded before he trotted back over to Cheerheart. “We’re going to hold out here for a little while longer, how’re the foals holding up?”
“They’re doing okay, some of them want to go to the bathroom, and three of them wet themselves when the soldiers...” she gulped, “shot those other soldiers.”
Cirrus nodded. “Excuse me, Private Rangel? Some of the foals here need to go use the bathroom, think one of you would lend us a hand?”
Rangel looked at their scared eyes, then sighed. “Alright, but two of us will go with you, one to go first and make sure it’s safe, then the other to escort the foals.”
“I’m going with you.” Cheerheart’s voice was weak, but she managed to get to her hooves and trot to stand next to Cirrus. “These foals are my responsibility, after all.”
Rangel looked at her, then nodded. “Fair enough. But stay with the soldier, and don’t do anything stupid.” He turned to the rest of the squad. “Polkowski, take the lead. Fredericks, you cover the ponies.”
Miller chuckled. “Well look at you. Only a Private and you’re giving orders like a NCO.”
Rangel scowled mockingly. “You want to pull your made up rank? We’re deserters now, after all.”
“Nah, you’re the one who got us into this mess, might as well follow you the rest of the way,” Miller said with a wry chuckle.
Polkowski slid the desk out of the way, slowly opening the door and sliding out into the hallway, rifle raised. After checking the hallway, he motioned for Fredericks to follow him. The soldier nodded and gestured to Cheerheart and the foals to move, and the group cautiously made its way toward the restrooms.
Once they were out of earshot, Cirrus looked up at Rangel. “So tell me then, what made you join a group like this?”
Rangel was silent for a few seconds. Looking down at the light green pegasus, he finally took a breath. “Well, you Equestrians show up out of the blue, wielding magic that killed hundreds if not thousands of people in the two months before. Then after that space mission, there’s suddenly talk of some kind of ‘Barrier’ that’s going to kick the Earth out of our reality and back to yours? How could people be expected to believe that? And then you come along and say the solution is for us to become like you?” Rangel’s knuckles were white as he clenched his hands. “What kind of solution is that? We’re giving up our very humanity, all that we are, and you didn’t expect some of us to choose to fight back?”
Cirrus blinked. “Well, I don’t mean to insult your opinion on things, but attacking a city? Shooting defenseless ponies because of something none of us can help? I understand how you feel, I really do. I struggled with it for weeks before I even set foot in a Bureau. But there’s got to be better ways than by killing innocents who are just trying to help in the limited ways they can.”
Rangel did a double take. “Wait, you’re not a native?”
Cirrus shook his head. “Not at all, but thanks for thinking it, I guess. As for the giving up our humanity thing, I’m the same as I was when I walked in. Well, on the inside at least.” The short, awkward conversation was ended by Cheerheart, the foals, and the soldiers returning. Once the foals were settled back down, Cirrus gave one last look over his shoulder at Rangel. “For what it’s worth, I am glad for what you did. I’m the only family my sister has outside the police department.”
Rangel didn’t reply, instead double checking his rifle. Inside, he found the edifice of his beliefs, that he’d considered rock solid, while not crumbling, had some significant weathering. He didn’t accept ponification, but he was starting to believe that what the HLF was doing was... wrong. He felt his shoulders slump a little as the traitorous word took root. But, they were wrong. Not in resisting ponification as the only way out. But the pony, Cirrus, was right. There was nothing worthwhile to be had in this. “Hey, Cirrus.” The pegasus looked up. “What was your name? Before you changed, I mean.”
“Chris. Chris Whitt.”
Chief Nance was daring to let himself feel hope. With the help of the Apaches, they’d steadily pushed the trucks back, toward the the serum research facility. They’d taken down two dozen of the trucks, forcing the gunmen from them and confiscating their weapons. Though they’d suffered casualties of their own, twenty-two officers dead and fifteen more wounded. “Alright, let’s keep these assholes moving! Don’t let them set up a position!”
“Sir, look!” Jacobs pointed up, as the two Apaches that had been giving them support cut loose with another burst of chaingun fire, the guns falling silent almost too soon. The helicopters didn’t hesitate before wheeling toward the river, the officers looking forlornly after them.
“Okay, show’s over! They’re just out of ammo, and we’re not going to let these fuckers get the chance to push us back! Keep them on their back foot!” Nance shouted, but even he had to admit that without the Apaches, they were likely to be pinned down again, and this time without the precinct to help keep them safe.
However, the trucks did the last thing he expected them to. With a squeal of rubber, the trucks turned about and sped away, heading toward the Bureau. “Well, that was unexpected.”
“What should we do?” Simmons asked, slinging the rifle he’d appropriated.
“Don’t have a choice, way I see it,” Nance said as he holstered his pistol. “Alright! I want four of you to take two cruisers, keep on them and report what they’re doing! If they turn to engage, get out of there. As for the rest of us, there’s going to be a lot of civilians who need help, so that’s what we’re going to be doing. I want the five of you,” he said, pointing to Jacobs, Simmons, and three other officers, “ to come back to the precinct with me, we’re going to see if we can’t get this clusterfuck under some semblance of order.”
The officers nodded, piling as many officers as they could into the working cruisers they had, others moving out on foot toward downtown.
Jesse Morales navigated his pickup around the overturned wreck of a Suburban, staring curiously at the hole gouged into the side door. “What in the hell’d I miss?” Looking down the street, he could see a small knot of cruisers bunched up. He started to turn the truck down the road when his gaze was caught by the sight of a few EMTs clustered around a tour bus that had run up onto the sidewalk. A few dozen bullet holes marred its side, and two of the EMTs were treating the driver.. He pulled up to the curb and rolled down the window. “What’s going on?”
One of the EMTs turned. “There’s a couple hurt ponies on the bus, but they won’t let us on to try and help.”
Jesse looked down the road one more time before sighing and opening the door. “I’ll try to talk ‘em down. Name’s Jesse.”
“Eric.” The two nodded to each other before Jesse walked cautiously to the front door of the bus.
“Hey there, my name’s Jesse Morales, I hear you have wounded?”
A bulky, orange earth pony stallion with a shock of dark grey mane stood at the top of the steps, ears flat and eyes wild. “Stay back! I won’t let you hurt them any more!”
Jesse raised his hands disarmingly. “Look, I know today’s started off bad, but I won’t hurt any of you, and I promise these guys won’t either.”
“Why should I trust you? We come here to just visit, and the next thing we know there’s all the screaming, and then that human pointed that awful thing at us and Glitter got hurt because of you humans!” He practically shouted, a little foam at the corners of his mouth, eyes narrowed in anger.
Jesse took a deep breath. “I understand how you feel. But you can’t let what one person does color how you see all of us. I’ll tell you what. You can take me hostage, in exchange for letting these gentlemen treat your hurt.”
“Hostage?” The earth pony asked, confusion now warring with his anger.
“It means that if anything happens to Glitter and the others, you can take revenge on me,” Jesse explained calmly.
“W-what? That’s cruel, I wouldn’t do that!” the stallion protested, his ears still flat, but now his eyes were wide with shock.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t. But if you don’t let the other ponies on the bus get treated, you’re being cruel to them too.” Jesse knew he had the stallion then, he’d been to enough questionings to spot the signs, even if it was a pony.
“A-alright. Just please help them!” The stallion moved out of the way, and a few EMTs hurried onto the bus, their bags in hand.
Jesse turned to Eric, still treating the driver. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he just got some cuts from the glass and a graze from one of those damn miniguns.” Eric finished applying a bandage and looked up. “So what’re you doin down here?”
Jesse rubbed the back of his head. “Well, to be honest, I retired from the police two days ago. Was actually going to go to the Bureau when my scanner picked up all this mess happening. So I decided to come down and try to help out.”
“Same here, can’t really sit by when this kind of thing is going on,” Eric agreed.
“Yep.” Jesse said simply, before turning back to the bus. “Gonna go see how they’re doing in there.”
“Sure, we got this out here.”
Jesse climbed into the bus, settling himself into the driver’s seat next to the stallion. The EMTs had begun to treat the injured ponies, though thankfully only a few of them had been struck by bullets. “So, what’s your name?”
“Gridiron.”
“That’s an interesting name... I’m Jesse Morales.” He extended his hand, and after a second of thought Gridiron shook it.
“Not really, my dad was a big time hoofball player, named me after I stole his prized ball from his display case and bucked it clear across the yard.” He turned slightly, eyeing the hoofball emblazoned on his flank, then looked back at Jesse.
Jesse glanced at the earth pony for a second, trying to see if he was telling the truth or not. The stallion’s dark blue eyes met his levelly, and Jesse finally shook his head in amusement.
“L-look, I’m sorry I yelled at you before. I just got scared when everything started happening. I mean, they warned us in Equestria about being careful here in the human nations, but I didn’t think it’d be like this,” Gridiron admitted, his expression downcast.
Jesse shrugged. “To be fair, this isn’t exactly a normal day for anyone. Tell you what, I’ll show you around town when there aren’t lunatic gunmen shooting up the place. Well, any more than usual.”
Gridiron blinked in confusion. “Oh, o-okay. That sounds like... fun.”
Jesse laughed. “Trust me, this city is actually a pretty nice place to be most of the time. I’ve been here all my life, couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”
Gridiron pondered that as he and Jesse sat side by side, watching the medics do their work.