//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 - Dead to Rights 
// Story: A Dance With Death 
// by Dee Pad 
//------------------------------//

The night air around the harbor of Horseshoe Bay was still, yet salty.  Under any other circumstance, the quiet lapping of the salt water against the wharf and the hulls of the large fishing vessels and cargo ships, and the white lights of both the full moon and the tall, bright lamps illuminating the wharf in the darkness of the night would be relaxing and calming, but the particularly strong odors offset the peacefulness of the night and effectively wrinkles the noses of any creature not accustomed to it.

Also, the squadron of police officers didn't exactly add to the atmosphere in any positive way.

The entirety of the Baltimare Police Department were peppered throughout the area, combing the wharfs halfheartedly.  They'd been hanging around there for half an hour at this point, mostly confused and impatient.  However, the one person with them who was not an officer—at least, not anymore—wasn't present at the moment, but was just arriving.

Limbo sauntered casually across the wharf, sipping from her insulated mug.  Seeing as the cops were busy not knowing what they were supposed to be doing, she figured she'd go for a refill on coffee while she let them do their thing.  She found several of the officers congregated around one area at the edge of the wharf, including Night Owl, who was looking more than a little frustrated.  Limbo saw exactly why so many cops had gathered in one spot, that being the large box of donuts.

"Really?  Donuts?" Limbo said to Owl.  "You guys are just perpetuating all the stereotypes these days, huh?"

"Says the caffeine-dependent detective," he quipped back.  "What did I say about the snarky comments?"

"There was no snark there.  I'm just a little disappointed in you guys."

"Forgive me if I'm not broken up about disappointing you."

"So, any luck?" Limbo asked with a slurp of her coffee.

"Does it look like it?" Owl groaned in annoyance.  "Guy leaves a ransom note telling us to come to the harbor and make the exchange, but doesn't specify where exactly he's waiting for us.  Nopony's seen hide nor hair of anypony here other than us."

"Have you checked any of the plants or storage buildings?"

"All the doors we've checked are locked.  This guy's an amateur for sure.  When you're making demands, you can't be vague like this.  Makes it harder for everypony involved."

"But makes it easier to take a lackadaisical approach, right?"

Owl glared at her through narrowed eyes.  "You wanna get off you pedestal for five minutes?"

"I just don't agree with the plan here.  You really think the kidnapper is dumb enough to accept I.O.U.s?  This is a hostage situation.  A person's life hangs in the balance here."

"I didn't hear you proposing any ways of getting fifty thousand bits in such a short time frame.  Even Mayor Highstrung couldn't organize that much for us.  And we don't exactly have any way to contact this kidnapper to negotiate an extension."

"I'm just saying, we're taking a risk here."

"The risk would be not showing up at all.  At least by being here we can try and negotiate something, maybe get them agree to do this tomorrow night instead or something.  You know, assuming we actually find out where they are!" Owl snapped at his subordinates, their muzzles and beaks coated in glaze and powdered sugar.

"Sarge!  We found something!"

A pair of earth pony mares—one cobalt blue, one cherry red—hurried across the wharf and over to the sergeant, their full-bodied manes that matched the color of the other's coat bouncing with each step.

Owl prepared a frustrated snarl just in case.  "I swear to Celestia, Paddy, if this is about another freaking jellyfish or some crap..."

"Nuh-uh, Sir," one of the mares—Paddy Wagon, the one with the blue coat and red mane—said with a shake of her head, her mane swaying back and forth.  "Not this time, I promise."

"Then out with it."

The other mare, who Limbo knew was Paddy's twin sister Siren, with her red coat and blue mane, held out a piece of paper with some tape stuck to the corners.  "See?  Lookit!"

Owl snatched the paper from them and analyzed it.  All it said was "PrEsS," spelled out in magazine clippings like the ransom note.  He scowled at the pair of them.  "I hope you remember where you found this."

Siren hesitated.  "Uhhh..."

"I do, Sarge!" said Paddy excitedly.  "It was somewhere down that way."  She pointed down to the end of the wharf, presumably around the corner of the processing plant.

Limbo gave Owl an arched eyebrow.  "Really?  Nopony checked down there while I was gone?"

"These two were supposed to, but probably got distracted by a fish jumping out of the water or something," Owl chided.

"It was pretty though," Siren argued.

"Just lead the way," grumbled Owl, signaling for the rest of the officers to follow them.

Paddy and Siren lead the force along the wharf until they reached a locked door with a sign that read, "AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT.  ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK."

"You sure this was where you found it?" asked Owl, doubting the twins' ability to recall the details.

"Yep."  Paddy slapped the paper back onto the wall, the reapplied tape barely able to hold it there again.  "It was right next to this intercom."

Indeed, there was an intercom on the wall next to the door, protected from the salty spray of the ocean by a transparent cover.

"So the kidnapper wants to communicate with us through this, I guess," Limbo inferred.  "Makes sense.  They probably don't want to reveal themselves to us."

"Alright, let's just get this over with," said Owl.  "Siren, hit the button."

The mare turned to him in surprise.  "Huh?!  M-Me?  Uh, 'kay."  She flipped the cover open and tapped the button, then waited.  "Um...  Nothing's happening, Sarge."

"It's not a buzzer, Siren.  Seriously, we have walkie-talkies that work the same way.  Hold it down to talk."

"Oh."  Siren did as she was instructed, leaning in to speak through the intercom.  "Hellooo?  Anypony home?"

Owl rolled his eyes, running a hoof down his face.  Limbo couldn't help but snicker.

When there was no response, Siren turned to Owl again, a little worried that she'd done something else wrong.  "Th-There's no answer."

"Maybe they're in the bathroom," Paddy postulated.

"Just keep trying until we get a response," Owl ordered, thoroughly exasperated by this whole ordeal already.


*****     *****     *****


Limbo's apartment was practically dead silent, the only sound a brief, tired yawn from the detective's assistant.  Limbo had left to accompany the police in the afternoon, and now it was almost two in the morning.  It wasn't like Samba wasn't used to staying up this late, but she had been waking earlier lately because of this new job.  She was also accustomed to idling the afternoon hours away, but that usually involved going out and finding something to do.  Samba couldn't exactly do that right now because she was technically on the clock right now, plus she and Webber were supposed to be keeping one another company.  No way in Tartarus was she going to go out on the town with a spider crawling on her back.

So, she'd been looking for anything she could do to occupy her time.  The television on the kitchen table was the obvious choice, but for some reason, Samba could not, for the life of her, figure out why there was no color, nor how to fix it.  Either way, she couldn't find anything on that was particularly interesting to her, so she'd just left it on a station that was airing random sitcoms for background noise.

The other option was to actually try and be a good assistant and clean up the apartment.  Limbo's office looked like a hurricane had struck a news stand.  Random papers and news articles had been strewn throughout the apartment; on the desk, on the dining table, the couch, the floor.  The problem was, Limbo seemed like the kind of mare who had a sense of organized chaos, so Samba had no idea how to go about organizing this stuff.  She kind of felt like messing with Limbo's files and documents might be overstepping her bounds anyway.

So what else could she do?  The only option left was to make a cup of tea and actually try to interact with her company.  To that end, Samba had managed to find a deck of cards in one of the kitchen drawers, and now she and Webber were engaged in a battle of wits at Limbo's desk.

Webber had five cards placed face down in front of him.  He tilted one up to check it, then flipped it over to show Samba the two of spades.

Samba, sitting with her own cards against one hoof and head leaning lazily on the other, simply responded with a somnolent, "Go fish..."

Webber stared at her vacant expression for a moment, then scurried over to Samba and pulled down her cards.  The spider was quick to point out that she possessed a two of clubs.

"Oh.  Sorry, I guess I'm not really paying too much attention," Samba apologized.

Webber just sat there, glancing back and forth as though he, too, were pretty bored.

"I mean, if you've got any other suggestions on how to pass the time, I'm all ears."

The spider didn't really move.

Samba stared at Webber.  She was still a little unnerved whenever he would stare straight at her, his unmoving form keeping her just a teensy bit on edge, but it wasn't like she didn't trust him.  Webber apparently had a history of being both mischievous and a little temperamental, but he'd been pretty agreeable and chill all day, just kind of minding his own business for the most part.

The mare took a slow sip of her tea before letting out a quiet sigh.  "I feel like I'm not helping as much as I could, you know?" she admitted to the spider, voicing what had been on her mind all day.  "Limbo said that you help her out during investigations, right?  I think she said, like, infiltration and reconnaissance?  What does that say about me if a spider is more help to her than I am?"

Webber took a step forward, causing Samba to flinch defensively.

"O-Okay, sorry, I didn't mean to insult you."  Samba ran a hoof through her mane, twirling the strands.  "I just want to help more.  You were there when I introduced Limbo to Rhapsody, right?  I've never exactly been a reliable person.  I can't even take care of my own kid properly.  All I want to do is make myself even a slightly better person, but how am I supposed to do that when I'm just sitting around doing nothing?"

Webber turned around and crawled off the desk.

Samba just sighed with a shake of her head.  "Look at me, airing my grievances to a spider.  I must look like a crazy person."

She watched as Webber scuttled over to the door, turning around to look back at her.  Samba straightened up in her seat, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"What?  You suggesting we go anyway?"

Webber then climbed the door, stopping next to the handle.

Samba got up and walked over to the door, looking Webber in all eight of his little eyes.  "We can't just go after her.  Like she said, it could be dangerous."

Webber just tapped the handle insistently with one of his legs.

Samba bit her lip apprehensively.  It was true that she wanted to help Limbo, but she also didn't want to get herself hurt or possibly killed.  The thought of getting assaulted, stabbed, burned, bludgeoned, or strangled was enough to give her pause.

But that was the root of the problem.  She wanted to change—to be more like Limbo—but how could she do that if she was only thinking about herself?  This whole endeavor shouldn't be about herself, it should be about the people she cares about: Rhapsody and Pirouette.  Limbo was a martyr, with no regard for her own wellbeing when others' lives were on the line.  Samba just needed to do what she did when she asked if she could work with Limbo; just suppress the thoughts in her head that were holding her back for even a few seconds, long enough to make the decision.

Samba mentally prepared herself with a long, deep breath.  Her internal desire to better herself waged a brief war with her sense of self-preservation, and for just a short moment, the former held the advantage.  She stared with determination at Webber, nodding resolutely.

"Alright, let's do it."

Despite her words of self-encouragement, Samba didn't move.  She just stared at the spider, who was staring back expectantly.  She might have worked up the courage to throw caution to the wind this once, but she still hesitated to pick up a spider.  That required yet another breath to prepare herself, holding out a hoof and closing her eyes.

"Just hurry up."

Webber crawled up her leg, making his way to her back where he came to rest.

Samba shuddered, an icy chill running up her spine at the feeling of his eight spindly legs crawling over her coat.  "N-No offense, Webber, but...  Ew, ew, ew..." she whined with an uneasy wince as she exited the apartment.  "We cannot get to the harbor fast enough."


*****     *****     *****


The wharf of Baltimare's harbor was quite large, extending most of the way across the southern shore.  It made sense, of course; Baltimare was Equestria's largest port town, and, prior to Princess Twilight Sparkle taking up the throne, was from where the majority of the kingdom's exports shipped out, especially before the invention of the airship.  But in the last twenty or so years, Baltimare had also developed a rather lucrative fishing industry.  While ponies obviously didn't eat meat, many of Equestria's neighbors—such as griffons, hippogriffs, and changelings—did.  As such, it behooved Equestria to provide its allies with resources that may have been difficult to acquire themselves.  For instance, Griffonstone, the capitol of the Griffon Empire, was located at the peak of a tall mountain range, so seafood had been more of a luxury there before the formation of the Allied Kingdoms of Equestria.  So now Baltimare was also Equestria's primary exporter of seafood products, the many large buildings at the harbor serving as either warehouses, cold storage, or processing plants.

All of that is to say the place pretty much perpetually smelled like salt and fish guts.

Samba's nose was curled the whole time since she'd arrived at the harbor.  She didn't live terribly far from the wharf, but far enough that the odors didn't really reach, so being there in person was a little overwhelming on her olfactory senses.  Still, she soldiered on.  As large as the wharf was, she knew the cops were nearby, as she had passed their carriages along the way.

However, Samba's steps were apprehensive and a little shaky, and she glanced back and forth as though suspected she they weren't alone.  She took a deep, unsteady breath, which didn't go unnoticed by the spider sitting on her back.  Samba felt a light tickle on her back as Webber tapped her, looking at him over her shoulder.  If she had to venture a guess, the look on his face was perhaps inquisitive.

"Sorry, I guess I'm just a little on edge," she admitted, keeping her voice quiet.  "The last time I was out this late, some maniac tried to attack me."  Once again, she looked around nervously.  "And now I'm out here actively trying to stop a potentially dangerous kidnapper.  M-Maybe this was a bad idea after all.  Like Limbo said, I don't have any training.  I couldn't beat somepony in a fight.  I'm worthless to everypony here.  I should probably just go home before I get hurt."

She was about to turn tail and leave, but Webber tapped his legs repeatedly on her back to stop her, pointing one leg forward demandingly.

"Come on, Webber, I'm actually kinda scared here," Samba pleaded.  "Besides, Limbo and Night Owl are professionals.  They don't need me here getting in the way."

Once again, Webber just pointed forward.

Samba paused.  She had been quick to backpedal on her choice to come out here.  Leaving now wasn't going to accomplish anything.  She took another breath, this time to steady her nerves.  "You're right...  You're right.  Change can't happen if you don't take risks.  Gotta just... be brave and push forward.  Don't think, just do.  Don't think.  Just do."

She took a step forward, immediately tripping over an unseen rope on the ground and faceplanting, the fall causing Webber to be flung off her back as well.

Samba pulled herself up with a pained groan.  "Okay...  Maybe think a little."

She stood back up, shaking it off and continuing on her way.  Webber followed from the ground, weaving around the puddles here and there.

As Samba navigated between the warehouses and processing plants, she eventually began to hear voices to break up the silence of the night.  She peered stealthily around the corner of the building she was next to, spotting a group of police officers as well as Limbo standing at a door and fiddling with an intercom.  Samba made the decision to hang back unseen and figure out what they were doing.

A cherry red mare with a blue mane was repeatedly tapping the button on the intercom.  "I think it might be broken or something."

"They wouldn't tell us to use it if it was broken," Owl argued, his forehead starting to turn red from how often he'd placed his hoof there already.

"Maybe there's a password," a blue mare with a red mane speculated.  She pressed up next to the other mare and pressed the button.  "Open sesame."

"That's not how an intercom works," Limbo corrected.  "Even if it was, the kidnapper never gave us a password to use."

"We just gotta guess.  It's probably something tricky, right?" the blue mare said.

Limbo smirked.  "Tricky for you would probably be just making your phone password 'PASSWORD.'"

"Ha, show's what you know.  My password's 'NOTPASSWORD.'"

The red mare nudged her.  "Paddy!"

"Huh?  Oh, shoot!  Uh, I mean...  Oh, sugar...  Ah, I'll just change when I get home.  I already got a clever one in mind."

"Lemme guess: 'NOTNOTPASSWORD," Limbo snickered.

Paddy blinked.  "N-No.  Er, well, not anymore."

Owl pressed his head against the sheet metal siding of the building with a long groan.  "Somepony just kill me and end this night, please."

Samba pulled back around the corner once more, looking at Webber, who was lingering on the wall beside her.  "Uh, I'm not sure what they're doing, but it's probably a bad idea to let them know I'm here.  They'll probably just make me go home and Limbo won't be too happy.  So what do I do?"

Webber turned around and skittered across the wall of the building.  Curious, Samba followed him around to the opposite corner, between the plant and the cold storage building beside it.  Webber had lead her to a set of stairs leading up to a door.

"I mean, there's no way that's unlocked, but it couldn't hurt to check," said Samba as she and Webber ascended to the door.  She tried the handle, but there was no give.  "Figures.  What now?"

Webber began to scurry up the wall.  Samba looked up to find that a window near the roof was slightly ajar, allowing just enough space for the spider to fit through.  Samba simply waited after Webber disappeared into the building.  After a few moments, she heard a metallic clatter.  On a whim, she tried the door again, and it actually opened.  She opened it slowly, poking her head in.  Webber was waiting on the walkway inside, a metal pin sitting next to him that he'd apparently pulled out of the latch on the door.

"Wow, you really are an infiltration specialist, huh?" Samba whispered with an impressed smile.  "I can see why Limbo relies on you."

Webber waved the compliment off with a modest flick of his leg.  Samba wondered if he would be blushing if he could.

Samba didn't fully enter the building just yet.  She cautiously looked around, though it was difficult to see in the darkness.  What she could make out was that she and Webber were on an elevated walkway overlooking the large interior of the processing plant.  Below them were many machines and a network of conveyer belts used for processing the seafood the fishercreatures brought in to port.

The only light source in the building currently was to the right of where Samba was.  It appeared to an overseer's office, overlooking the production that would normally be happening below.  The interior was clearly visible through the large window stretching across the front of the room.  In fact, Samba was could see a blue pony inside.

"Hey, that's Trixie!" she exclaimed, though still kept her voice down.

She was about to hurry over to the office, but halted and ducked back outside when she heard somepony else's hoofsteps.  Samba spotted somepony climbing up a staircase close to the entrance of the office.  She couldn't tell who they were from this distance or in this lighting, but either way, she decided it best to hang back for now, unsure what she could do with the potential kidnapper right there.

Through the window, Samba watched as the kidnapper spoke to Trixie, though obviously she couldn't hear what they were saying.  But their back was turned to the window, so Samba and Webber took the opportunity to sneak over to the door, the mare discreetly peering through the window on the door.  Her eyes widened when she finally saw the kidnapper: a grey unicorn stallion with an ashy white mane and a half-melted candle for a cutie mark.  She ducked down out of view again.

"Oh, wow.  It's that guy that was in line behind us.  Huh.  You know, that actually makes sense now that I think about it.  Geez, I knew some guys took rejection pretty hard, but resorting to kidnapping isn't gonna win her over.  Guess my advice didn't do much in the end.  Hm.  Come to think of it, I could've been in Trixie's position if it wasn't for Limbo that night.  What would you call that?  That's not irony, right?" she asked, looking to Webber.

The spider just gave her an uncertain shrug.

Samba poked her head up again to see what the two were doing.  Trixie was actually tied to a chair and had a piece of cloth in her mouth as a gag, though, oddly, she wasn't struggling or panicking in any way.  She almost seemed bored.  Maybe there was credence to Limbo's assumption that she wanted to be kidnapped.  The other thing that Samba noticed was the strange, silver ring on Trixie's horn.  It was probably safe to assume it wasn't a wedding band, as she hadn't been wearing it earlier.

The kidnapper suddenly jumped as though something had startled him.  For a moment, Samba thought he might have spotted her, but he instead hurried over to a console on one of the desks on the opposite side of the room.

Meanwhile, outside the building, Limbo, Night Owl, and the other officers were still busy trying to get in contact with the kidnapper.  Siren was repeatedly pressing the button on the intercom as fast as she could until she eventually stopped, out of breath.

"Hoo...  Okay, how many was that?" she asked.

Paddy scratched her head.  "I think, like, fifty?  Maybe?"

"Come on, Paddy!  You were supposed to be counting!  You can't estimate because you're afraid I'll beat your record."

"Guys, I really don't think the intercom turns on if you 'just push it a bunch,'" Limbo said with an exasperated sigh.

"How do you know?" Siren argued defensively.  "At least me and Paddy are trying something.  You've just been sitting there making fun of us."

Limbo rolled her neck.  "Alright, then let me have a crack at it."  She shoved the two of them aside, pushing the button and leaning in to the intercom.  "Hey!  You in there or what?!  We ain't waitin' all night!"

After only a moment, a stallion's voice finally came back over the speaker.  "Oh, geez!  I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here already!  I-I was in the bathroom!"

"Oh, hey, I was right," said Paddy.

"Nice job, Limbo," Siren complimented with a genuine smile.

Owl finally stood up from his defeated and exhausted sitting position.  "About freakin' time."  He pushed Limbo aside to use the intercom, much to the detective's hypocritical chagrin.  "Listen up.  You've got a lot of nerve to leave a ransom note demanding an exchange and not even setting a time to meet.  It's three in the friggin' morning, you dunce!  What, were you in the bathroom for six hours or something?!"

"I-I said I'm sorry!" the voice called back defensively.

Limbo pursed her lips in thought.  "Why does that voice sound familiar?"

"Look, we need to discuss this whole situation," Owl demanded.  "You're obviously new to this kidnapping stuff, so let me explain a few things to you about how this is gonna go down, got it?"

The group could hear an audible gulp over the speaker.  "O-Okay..."

Back inside the processing plant, Samba watched as the kidnapper spoke to somepony through the console on the desk.  He looked pretty uneasy, sweat starting to run down his face as he spoke rather frantically with the person on the other end, whom Samba assumed must have been the cops.  She couldn't quite hear what was being said through the door, but it looked and sounded like he was receiving a stern talking-to.  All things considered, the guy seemed pretty much like he was when Samba spoke to him earlier that day: passive and nervous.  For a kidnapper, he wasn't coming across as threatening at all, which might explain why Trixie didn't seem particularly concerned with her situation.

Still, Trixie needed to be rescued.  The police were here to simply give this guy fifty thousand bits in exchange for Trixie's release.  Obviously he wasn't planning to turn himself in after making the exchange, so there'd still be a criminal on the loose.  Given this guy's rather submissive attitude, maybe Samba could help without having to put herself in any danger.

Samba slowly and quietly checked the handle of the door, but the kidnapper had locked it behind him, perhaps in case the cops decided to rush him.  She carefully scanned the room while he was still distracted by his discussion with the police.  Eventually, she spotted a key sitting on another desk close to the door.  That alone didn't do her much good as long as she was locked out, so she kept looking.  Samba looked up to the ceiling and spotted a ventilation duct stretching across the length of the office, wall to wall.  And almost directly above Trixie was a grate.  Samba's eyes followed the duct toward herself, noticing that it extended through the wall above her.  Coincidentally, there also happened to be another grate above her as well, not that there was much that she herself could do with it.

"Psst.  Webber."

The spider followed her pointing hoof to the vent.

"You think you can sneak in there and get the key without getting spotted?"

Webber wasted no time skittering up the wall and slipping through the grate into the vent.  All Samba had to do now was wait.  She cautiously peered inside again, the kidnapper still apparently receiving a firm verbal lashing based on his meek and wimpy posture.

After a few moments, Webber exited the grate in the office, rappelling down on a nearly invisible thread of webbing.  However, he happened to be descending right in front of Trixie, and the moment the bound mare spotted the spindly spider, her disinterested demeanor suddenly shifted, her pupils narrowing as she stared at the arachnid just inches in front of her face.

Outside, Night Owl was continuing to firmly explain the situation to the kidnapper.

"I know you don't want to hurt Trixie, kid.  We can't get the money on such short notice, so why don't you just let her go, turn yourself in, and we might go easy on you."

"I-I can't do that.  I d-don't want to go to jail at all."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before kidnapping somepony," Owl growled through grit teeth, growing increasingly impatient.

"I-I..."

"Mmph!  Mmgh!"

Limbo quirked an eyebrow.  "Wuzzat?"

"Hm?  O-Oh, that's just Trixie.  Hey, calm down, it's just a spider."

Limbo's eye widened.  "A spider?"  A sudden realization of what that might mean came over her.  She shoved Owl aside abruptly to commandeer the intercom.  "H-Hey!  More important things going on right now!  Forget the spider, yeah?  Pay attention to us!"

"R-Right, my bad."

Owl pushed Limbo back.  "You mind?  I'm in charge here, remember?"

Inside, Samba breathed a sigh of relief.  The kidnapper had seen Webber, but seemed to pay the spider and Trixie's panic no mind and returned to his negotiations.

Trixie couldn't remove her eyes from the spider, watching it shakily as it landed on the floor in front of her and scurried over to the desk to the left.  Webber crawled up the wall, onto the desk, and over to the key the kidnapper had laid there.  Trixie could only stare in utter bewilderment as the spider affixed the key to its abdomen, using its silk like makeshift rope, then climbed back up the wall, across the ceiling, and disappeared into the vent again, leaving the captured mare more than a little flabbergasted.

Samba waited until Webber returned, the spider quickly descending from the outside vent and untying his acquisition.  Samba took the key with a pleased giggle.  "Nice job, Webber.  Hey, we make a pretty good team, don't we?"

Webber pointed to the door.

"Oh, right.  Guess I actually have to do something before I can say that."  Samba looked at the key in her possession, ruminating on what she was about to do.  She took a deep breath, knowing that there was risk involved.  "Well, here goes nothing."

Back outside, Owl was still arguing with the kidnapper through the intercom.  "Alright, I'm getting pretty fed up with this.  We don't have the money with us, we've explained that."

"I-I specifically said to bring fifty thousand."

"We've been through this!  There was nothing specific about your note!  That's why we need to do these negotiations."

"B-But...  I-If you don't have the money...  I c-can't guarantee Trixie's safety."

"Oh, please, I can hear your vocal chords quivering.  You don't have the guts to hurt her."

Limbo rolled her eye.  "Oh, yeah, goad the kidnapper.  Real professional there, 'Sarge.'"

"Am I wrong?  You think he's got the cojones to do it?"

"It was more a comment on your bedside manner than his conviction, but I'm not gonna say I disagree with you."

"Y-You guys shouldn't just write me off like that.  I've got knife in here.  Uh, somewhere...  Where'd I leave th—Gyah!  Wh-Where did—Huh?!  Y-You?!  Wh-What the hay are you doing here?!"

Owl quirked an eyebrow at the kidnappers odd reaction.  "Uh, you okay in there kid?"

Limbo had a feeling she knew what was happening, gesturing for the cops to follow her.  "Let's go!  There's definitely a way in somewhere, we've gotta get in there now!  Move, move!"

Owl grabbed her by the hoof, pulling her back.  "Hey!  These are my officers.  They follow my orders."  The other cops just stared at him expectantly.  "Well?  What are you all waiting for?  Go!"

The squad of officers rushed around the building, Limbo leading the pack.  If she was right about what she thought was happening inside the processing plant, then she knew a door had to be open somewhere.  The first one they came across was up a set of stairs, so she and the police force hurried up, barged through the unlocked door, and immediately ran toward the lit office.

Night Owl took the lead from there, busting the door open.  "Freeze!  You're under—huh?"

The culprit that they'd been negotiating with through the intercom was already laying on the ground, shivering and covering his head with his hooves.  "D-Don't hurt me!  Please!" he pleaded pathetically.

Owl next turned his attention to the beige mare he hadn't expected to see there, too befuddled to say anything.

"Hey, guys," Samba greeted casually.

Owl just glanced between Samba and the cowering kidnapper.  "The hay is going on here?"

"Maybe save those questions for later, Owl," Limbo suggested.  "Just apprehend your criminal."

"Don't tell me how to do my job," Owl sneered, grabbing the kidnapper roughly and forcing him to his hooves.  He passed the culprit along to his fellow officers, who slapped some cuffs to his legs to prevent him from making a break for it and escorted him outside to the carriages.

Samba removed the gag from Trixie's mouth, the magician breathing an exasperated and less-than-grateful sigh.

"About time," she huffed.  "What took so long?"

"You're welcome," Limbo deadpanned sarcastically.

Trixie stuck her nose up at her as Samba loosened her bindings, allowing her to stand again.  "It's not like I needed your help anyway.  Given a little more time, I'm sure I could have made my own grand escape.  I'm just saying, most law enforcement departments wouldn't have so much difficulty negotiating with such an inept kidnapper."

"Says the person who got kidnapper by said kidnapper," Owl reminded her.

"Let's not give the guy too much credit," said Limbo.  She shifted her gaze to Trixie, the blue mare flinching slightly under her accusatory glare.  "We know that you were trying to get targeted, Trixie.  Somepony said that you 'randomly cancelled' the meet 'n' greet today.  I'd be willing to wager that this was barely even a kidnapping.  He probably just showed you the note, you said 'finally,' and just voluntarily walked off with him to humor your own ego.  How far off the mark is that would you say?"

A slightly embarrassed blush filled Trixie's face, and she puffed out her blushing cheeks indignantly.  "Hrm...  Fine, yes, are you happy now?"

"What is wrong with you?" Owl chastised.  "That punk could barely get a sentence out without quivering.  There's no reason you had to go through this, and make us go through this."

Trixie lowered her head slightly, looking surprisingly remorseful.  "Can you blame me?  Barely anypony remembers who I am.  My best friend gets all the accolades as headmare of one of the most prestigious schools in the kingdom, my rival has gone on to become ruler of all Equestria.  And where does that leave me?  A guidance counsellor.  Not that I dislike my job, but I just don't get the same recognition I used to anymore.  The name Trixie Lulamoon has faded into obscurity..."

"Becoming a damsel in distress probably isn't gonna help your reputation, you know," Samba pointed out.

Trixie's lifted her head again, huffing in frustration.  "The plan was to make a daring escape on my own using my magical prowess, rescuing the Ghost of Baltimare's other victims in the process and once again being seen as a hero in the eyes of the public.  But not only did that loser slap one of these inhibitor rings on me, which made escape more complicated, but it turns out he's not even the Ghost.  So all of this was just a colossal waste of my time."

The other three ponies looked at the silver ring affixed to Trixie's horn curiously.

"I was wondering what that was," said Samba.  "So, I'm guessing an inhibitor ring prevents you from using magic?"  She turned to Limbo and Owl for an answer, but the two of them both seemed a little vexed as they stared at the ring.

"Yes," Trixie answered in their stead.  "And I would appreciate it if somepony could remove this so I can go home, please.  I'd like to just forget that this happened."

"Well, you'll have to wait a little longer," Owl informed her.  "Inhibitor rings don't come off that easily, so you'll need to come back to the station with us."  He leaned in authoritatively, though Trixie didn't budge.  "Besides, we need to have a talk about your part in all this.  You're not exactly an 'innocent bystander' here."

Trixie just rolled her eyes.  "Fine, let's just get this over with."

Night Owl escorted Trixie out, leaving just Limbo and Samba in the plant's office.  Samba was first to speak before Limbo had the chance, her ears folding back apologetically.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, Limbo.  But it didn't feel right to just sit around and do nothing."

Limbo scratched her head with a groan.  "Look, I get it.  I'm not going to claim I haven't done reckless junk in the past, even back when I still had a life to risk.  I guess the least I can do is postpone the scolding until after we deal with the kidnapper back at the station."  She smiled proudly at her assistant.  "Besides you did good.  If you hadn't shown up, this whole thing would have been drawn out at the very least."

Samba blushed with a bashful grin.  "Uh, well, I can't take all the credit.  I had some help."

"Speaking of which, where is Webber anyway?" Limbo asked, looking around the office.  "I know that spider the guy saw was him."

Webber revealed himself by crawling out of Samba's silky mane, having hidden himself within her luxurious locks.

"I wouldn't have had the gumption to come here if he hadn't encouraged me.  Well, more like pressured me, but apples and oranges."

Limbo chuckled.  "Yeah, he's a bad influence, but a good friend.  Anyhoo, let's get out of here.  This place smells rank, and that's something coming from a mare who's flesh is partially rotted.  Come on, Webber."

Limbo stuck out her hoof for Webber to climb onto her and into her eye socket, but the spider instead retreated back into the silky confines of Samba's smooth, wavy hair.

"I think he finds my mane more comfortable."

Limbo lowered her hoof again, a little surprised.  "Oh.  Well, I guess it's nice to see you two hitting it off, but I didn't expect you to allow him to use you as a nest so soon."

Samba noticed the look on her face and smirked.  "Limbo...  Are you jealous?"

Limbo scoffed, snorting rather loudly and defensively.  "Jealous?  What?  No.  Why would I be jealous?  You're jealous.  Shut up.  Let's go."

Samba giggled.  "Sure."


*****     *****     *****


Samba waited quietly and patiently, she, several officers, and even Trixie staring through the one-way glass into the interrogation room.  The only sounds that could be heard were a tired yawn from one of the officers and the clopping of Night Owl's hooves through the intercom as he paced back and forth.

Every now and then, the bat pony shot a venomous glower at the young stallion seated across the table, causing the kid to flinch and crack his already flimsy shell further.  Limbo simply watched him in silence, rolling her one eye while she waited for the sergeant to actually get started.  Owl stopped pacing for a moment and glanced down at the spellphone and wallet laying on the table containing the identification of their apprehended criminal.  He glared harshly at the unicorn, the narrow slits of his pupils drilling a hole through the shaky perp.

"Wick Nimble, huh?" Owl practically growled, repeating the name displayed on the stallion's I.D.  He slammed the table, startling the stallion.  "Alright, I'm gonna let you in on a little something.  I wasn't in a great mood from the start of the day because a certain somepony showed up and dropped this case on me."  He shot a look at Limbo, who simply flashed a condescending grin back at him.  "But it's now four a.m., and I know I might be a bat pony, but even I don't like being up this late.  So we better get this over with quick, or I can't promise this won't get ugly."

Limbo leaned on the table, also glaring at the captured kidnapper—Wick Nimble.  "I don't often agree with Owl, but I'm with him on this.  You got a lot of explaining to do, so I suggest you talk fast to avoid ticking us off."

Wick glanced back and forth between his two interrogators, an uneasy bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.  "I-I don't know why you guys are doing the whole 'good cop, bad cop' thing.  I'm being totally compliant here.  And isn't good cop, bad cop supposed to have... you know... a good cop?" he gulped.

Limbo scoffed.  "Tch.  You'd be hard-pressed to find a good cop in this city."

"You wanna dial down the snark for two minutes?" Owl snapped at her, gnashing his short fangs.  "The only reason you're in here is because I don't have time to tell you to leave."

"Then you won't mind if I start with the questioning," Limbo asserted.  She turned to Wick.  "Alright, I'm just going to cut to the chase here.  What's your connection to the Ghost?"

"Ghost?" Wick echoed in confusion.  "What are you talking about?  What ghost?"

Limbo slammed the table, perhaps more aggressively than necessary.  "Don't play dumb!  I know you have some sort of tie to the Ghost of Baltimare!"

That only served to puzzle the perp further.  "Wait, that Ghost?  I-I don't have anything to do with them, I swear!"

"You expect us to believe that?" Owl questioned skeptically.

Limbo gave Owl a slightly astonished look.  "What, you're on my side all of a sudden?  Weren't you insisting earlier that I was grasping at straws?"

Owl didn't remove his gaze from Wick.  "Trixie herself confirmed to us that the only reason she went with you is because she thought you were the Ghost of Baltimare, looking to validate her self-perceived importance by making a 'grand escape,' or some crap."

"I can hear you, you know," came Trixie's voice through the intercom.

"Um, you're not supposed to touch that, Miss," the voice of Siren told her.

"Hey, get your hooves off—"

Night Owl just shook his head as the intercom turned off, returning his attention to Wick Nimble.  "So, you gonna claim she said nothing to that effect?"

"She didn't, I promise!  She just said some stuff about being 'great and powerful,' that's all.  Just sounded like she was bragging.  I guess that explains why she was so agreeable, but, to be honest, I was still kinda relieved when I finally gagged her."

"Preach," mumbled Limbo.

Owl looked across at their reflections in the one-way window, in Trixie's general direction.  "Can you confirm that, Miss Lulamoon?"

He received mostly silence, but there was some distinct grumbling coming through.

"Trixie," Owl repeated more firmly.

There was another moment of silence before her voice came through.  "I was told not to use the intercom."

"Just answer the damn question!"

"Hmph, fine, no need to get snippy."  Trixie sighed, reluctantly answering his question.  "But, yes.  I suppose I never outright mentioned the Ghost of Baltimare in his presence."

"So you're really claiming this has nothing to do with the Ghost?" Limbo asked once more.

"I swear," Wick reiterated, raising his hoof solemnly.  "I don't wanna do or say anything right now to make this worse for myself, so I'm being one hundred percent honest."

"Then what exactly was your reason for kidnapping her?  Just the money?" Limbo inquired.

Wick shrugged, lowering his head with a sigh.  "Basically."  He twiddled his hooves sheepishly.  "I, uh...  I recently graduated high school, but I have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life.  Real life is kinda terrifying.  I worked at the Mango store at the mall for a bit, since I felt like I knew a fair amount about spellphones.  Uh, apparently not as much as I thought, though, since I got fired after a week.  So I just resorted to what I thought was gonna be a simple job down on the wharf."

"Guess that explains how you had access to that place," said Limbo.

"Well, I actually stole the manager's key, so I'm guessing I'm probably gonna get fired from that job too."

"I think that's the least of your worries," Owl deadpanned.

"A-Anyway, I was just super desperate for money.  I hated my job down there.  I just wanted out and was willing to do anything to get money without having to work an awful job."

"And you resorted to kidnapping and ransom," Limbo inferred.  "Bit of a big leap there for a kid so young."

"Trust me, I wouldn't have done something that drastic if it weren't for that guy."

That caught the attention of his interrogators.

"'Guy'?  What guy?" Limbo probed, leaning on the table.

"You saying you have an accomplice?" inquired Owl.

Wick drew back as the two of them inched closer, their eyes drilling into him.  "Uh, w-well, not exactly."

"Is it the Ghost?!" spat Limbo, practically climbing onto the table.

"N-No!  Er, I mean, I don't know.  I don't know who he was!"

Owl pulled Limbo back to give the nervous unicorn some room to breath.  "Explain," he demanded tersely.

Wick took a deep breath.  "Okay.  Uh, so, I got home from work one day, and I found a piece of paper somepony had slid under my apartment door.  I guess whoever it was knew who I was, because they seemed to know how stressed I was and desperate for cash.  The note said to meet at a pub downtown."

"Wh-What pub?" came Samba's voice over the intercom.

Wick pursed his lips as he tried to recall.  "Uh...  I think it was called... 'The Brewery'?  Maybe?"

"That's where you work, right, Samba?" asked Limbo

"Uh, y-yeah..." Samba confirmed quietly.

"We're interrogating Wick right now.  Let's focus on this 'guy' for now, alright?" Owl interjected.

"Oh, o-okay.  Sorry."

Night Owl stared directly at Wick.  "Anyway, what happened when you went to meet him?"

"Uh, well, I guess I should start by saying I never actually met the guy face to face.  The note specified exactly where I was supposed to sit.  We were sitting back to back in adjacent booths, so I only heard his voice."

"What did he tell you?" asked Limbo.

"Not much.  He really just discreetly confirmed that he was the one who left the note and not to turn around, then passed me an envelope with his wing that had the inhibitor ring and detailed instructions on how to perform the kidnapping.  The target, the time and place, the method.  He really did all the work.  I just had to put the ransom note together and actually kidnap Trixie.  But he probably wasn't expecting Trixie to actually go along with it.  It was actually a lot easier to pull off than he made it sound."

Limbo stepped forward, waving her hoof.  "Whoa, whoa, back up a second here.  You said, 'with his wing.'  He was a pegasus?"

"Uh, maybe.  I guess he could've been a griffon or a hippogriff, but like I said, I never actually saw him other than the wing, and it was too dark in the place to pick out the color of his feathers."

Limbo rubbed her temple in frustration.  "No, no, this can't be right..."

Owl placed a hoof firmly on her shoulder, directing her attention to him.  "Limbo, don't go jumping to conclusions just yet.  We don't know if this guy is the Ghost or not.  Let's get some more details before we start making assumptions."

The detective hesitated, finding it difficult to not fixate on this possible complication.  But she took a breath and nodded.  "Right, right.  What about the ring, then?  Inhibitor rings are typically only available to law enforcement.  So where'd he get it?"

"I called Hole Punch on the way back and he confirmed that all of our station's rings are accounted for," Owl informed her.  "Some sports leagues use the rings to give unicorns or other magic users a handicap, but athletic inhibitor rings don't have locks built into them.  Trixie's does, so the one that he put on her either came from outside the city, or directly from a manufacturer."

Limbo quirked an eyebrow at Wick.  "You said you worked at a Mango store, right?  Mango Inc. is one of the leading manufacturers of inhibitor rings."

"I worked there for a week!" Wick repeated defensively.  "We didn't have access to anything except phones and computers!"

"It's possible that your contact is tied to Mango Incorporated, but even that's a longshot," Owl grumbled.  "That company has thousands of employees in Baltimare alone."

"Owl."

The bat pony turned to Limbo, her pale, silver eye full of certainty and focus.

"We can't rule out the idea that this mystery person is the Ghost."

Owl groaned, shaking his head at her stubbornness.  "I know you said you think the Ghost might not be a unicorn, but by your logic, shouldn't they be somecreature that can use magic?  Besides, would the Ghost really leave a trail like this?  This contact of his might be more seasoned in the kidnapping thing, but since when has the Ghost recruited helpers to do their dirty work for them?"

"I'm... still working that out..." Limbo muttered.  "But I still insist that the Ghost is involved in some way."

Owl rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, sure, keep chasing that goose.  We'll see where you end up."

"So, uh..." Wick meekly interjected.  "Since I was so cooperative, is my sentence gonna get reduced?"

Both Owl and Limbo glared harshly at him.

Wick shrunk back, gulping nervously.  "I'll take that as a no."

Owl ran a hoof through his mane with an exasperated sigh.  "Alright, I've hit the limit of my patience, so we're just gonna lock you up for the night and call it quits.  We'll deal with the court stuff tomorrow."

With that, Night Owl traipsed out of the interrogation room, Limbo following behind him to join the other officers in the viewing room.

"Paddy, Siren, show the kid to his room," Owl ordered wearily.

The twins saluted simultaneously, escorting Wick Nimble out of the area and to the holding cells.

"The rest of you, you're dismissed.  Go home, get some sleep," he told the rest of his team, stifling a yawn himself.

The present officers took their leave with relieved looks on their faces, leaving just Owl, Limbo, Samba, and Trixie.  The latter of which was about to leave as well, but Owl held out a hoof to stop her, challenging her offended gawking with a stern glower.

"Sorry, but you're staying here overnight too, Miss Lulamoon," he informed her.

Trixie balked at the assertion.  "What?!  I'm the victim!  You can't treat somepony who was just kindapped like this, least of all The Great and Powerful Trixie!"

Owl glared, unamused and clearly fed up with this night.  "We're not ignoring the fact that you were complicit in all this.  So consider this 'correctional therapy.'  But I'll tell you what: if you're as 'great' an escape artist as you claim to be, break out.  You manage that, I'll let you go, no questions asked."

Trixie lifted her nose with a confident smirk.  "Hmph, child's play.  Just remove this ring first."

Owl said nothing else, and just turned around to leave.

"Hey!  Where are you going?!  You can't leave this thing on me!  Get back here!" Trixie demanded, chasing after him.

With everything said and done, that just left Limbo and Samba.  The two of them took their leave of the station in silence, only the sound of Trixie's belligerent insisting audible in the otherwise quiet police station.  Thankfully, that would be rectified once they stepped outside to return to their respective homes.

Samba let out a long sigh, a small smile of relief gracing her lips.  "Phew.  Quite a night, huh?"  She noticed Limbo casting her a reprimanding glare, and she shrunk back with a gulp.  "I guess it's time for that scolding now, huh?"

"I told you it could've been dangerous.  You were just lucky that Wick kid was a total wimp," Limbo chastised.

Samba's ears folded back remorsefully.  "I know, I'm sorry.  But I really couldn't just sit around and do nothing.  It didn't feel right given what I'm trying to accomplish."

"Putting yourself in harm's way isn't how you should be going about making yourself a better person."

Samba hung her head shamefully.  It felt weird to Limbo to be talking to her like she was an unruly child, especially considering that Samba was actually a parent and she wasn't.  Maybe that was part of the underlying problem, but Limbo wanted to help however she could.  To that end, she offered a smile.

"But, as I already said, you did great."

Samba lifted her head, her ears perking up at the congratulations.

"I mean, in the end, the guy was a complete pushover, but you didn't know that.  It was pretty brave to do what you did, even if it was haphazard.  The whole thing might've actually gone sour if you hadn't shown up, but that's really Owl and the force's fault for not getting the ransom money like he asked.  At the very least, your interference prevented this thing from being dragged out.  It might've been reckless, but I guess I'm a hypocrite for giving you crap about that.  I'll give you credit for this one."

Samba blushed with a bashful grin.  "Uh, thanks.  To be honest, I was afraid I'd screw this up royally.  And I wouldn't have had the courage to go through with it without Webber."

Limbo furrowed her brow, directing her attention to the eight eyes peering out between the silky strands of Samba's mane.  "And don't think I'm going easy on you, mister.  I'm not ignoring the role you played."

Webber retreated into his keratin nest to escape her scolding.

"What, you think you can escape by stowing away to her place for the night?  Fat chance.  Get over here."

Webber slinked back out, reluctantly crawling onto Limbo's hoof and onto her back.

"Don't be too harsh on him," Samba requested.

Limbo stared at the pleading smile on her face and let out a huff through her nostrils.  "I won't put him in the bathtub at least.  But only because of you."

The pair reached an intersection on the street where they needed to part ways to return to their respective apartments.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Samba bid her.

"Yep.  And be ready for some discussions.  There was a lot of info tonight that we need to go over in detail."

"About the Ghost?  You really think that they were Wick's contact?"

"I know there's some inconsistencies, but we still can't rule it out.  Something was off about what he said.  But like I said, that's a discussion for an hour that's not outrageous."

"Right.  Goodnight, Limbo."

Limbo hesitated as Samba was about to walk away.  "Uh, hey, you want me to walk you home?  I mean, it's pretty late and dark."

"Huh?"  It took a moment, but Samba quickly realized why she'd offered.  In truth, it hadn't even occurred to her until Limbo reminded her of the night they first met.  Samba responded with a courageous shake of her head, but also a grateful smile.  "No thanks.  I think I can manage."

Limbo smiled back, sensing a newfound confidence in her friend.  "Alright, then.  See you tomorrow."