//------------------------------// // 11 - A Threat Revealed // Story: The Conversion Bureau: The St. Louis Massacre // by Cloudhammer //------------------------------// Year 5, Week 19, Friday Corporal Burton stared for a second, not believing his eyes as the trucks just drove away, like they were going for a leisurely Sunday drive. “Where the fuck are they going?” His eyes twitched closed as Lariat started to move past him, the light glinting off the gold armor. “Where the fuck are you going?” “They’re leaving the Bureau and serum facility, we should press forward and search for survivors,” Lariat retorted. “Hold on First Lieutenant. We need to be careful, they might have traps set up or an ambush waiting for us,” Cloudhammer said, rubbing his forehead with a hoof. “I’m used to watching for traps. Some of the things you run across in the Everfree are a bit more...active... in their means of deterrence,” Aegis volunteered. “I admit, though, I’ve never seen what might qualify as a ‘human’ trap...” “Everything alright Cloudhammer?” Flare asked, giving the pegasus a sidelong look. Cloudhammer didn’t answer as the headache transformed into a spike of freezing cold. A voice suddenly intruded on his thoughts. ‘General Cloudhammer? This is Warrant Officer White Noise. I’m relaying orders from Celestia. We’re ready to deploy a contingent of Royal Guard into the city to help, but we need confirmation of the security of the Beacon Stone in the Bureau.’ ‘I see. Well, we’ll be making our entry soon, we need to make sure there aren’t any surprises waiting for us. I’ll have Flare charge the Beacon Stone once we’re sure it’s clear.’ ‘Understood. Stay safe General.’ The freezing sensation faded and Cloudhammer shook his head to dispel the last of it. “Something wrong Cloudhammer?” Corporal Burton asked absently, his eyes mostly focused on the serum facility ahead. “Just getting new orders. There’s an artifact in the Bureau called a Beacon Stone. If we can secure it, we can start bringing more Royal Guard and medical unicorns into the city to start treating the wounded.” “You mean back up? Finally!” Aegis sighed in relief. “Hate to admit it, but even I’m getting a bit tired.” Lariat grinned. “Come on then, what’re we waiting for? Those civil aren’t going to rescue themselves.” Putting his shoulder into one of the cruisers with a grunt, he pushed it far enough to make room and started to trot purposefully toward the Bureau. “Don’t have to ask me twice. Anvil, Dusty, Wrecker, you heard ‘im. Star formation around Flare. I have point. Cloudhammer, we’re ready when you are.” Aegis looked at Flare. “Assuming you are, Flare?” Flare nodded, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.” The ponies started moving forward, and Corporal Burton shook his head. “Alright, officers forward! Keep your weapons up and eyes sharp! Maybe we’ll luck out and find someone they left behind, get some actual answers for all this insanity.” The officers moved forward cautiously alongside the ponies, all eyes trained on the entrance of the building ahead. Eventually they reached the steps and made their way to the doors. “Clark, Don, check those corners, then we make our entry,” Burton whispered, and the officers nodded, scanning the lobby with their weapons before carefully entering the Bureau lobby. The broken glass crunched under their feet and hooves as the police and guards surveyed the devastated room. Cloudhammer’s eyes were hard as he trotted to a fallen guard, a pegasus. Rolling it over, he sighed as he looked at the face. “Someone you knew?” Burton asked as he walked to stand next to him. “No. That’s the worst part,” Cloudhammer muttered before he looked up. “The hallway to the right leads to the administrative section and the daycare. The left leads to the Conversion rooms and the housing facilities. Aegis, I want you and Flare to come with me. Lariat, you take Anvil, Dusty and Wrecker, secure the Conversion rooms. Corporal Burton, could you split your men up as well? Once we secure the Bureau we can move to the serum research facility together. “Makes sense to me.” Burton quickly divided the officers up. “I’m coming with you guys.” “Just be careful, and we’ll let you know when you need to stay clear of the Beacon Stone while Flare charges it.” Cloudhammer took a deep breath before leading the way down the hall. They picked their way down the bullet-scarred hallways, the ponies and officers eyes growing colder as they saw each fallen body. It was when they reached a side hallway that Cloudhammer’s nose twitched. “Just what is that smell?” Corporal Burton pointed. “Got a couple human bodies here. Those look like some of the terrorists.” He carefully entered the room, and grimaced as he saw the ruin of the closest body. “Looks like someone rigged a grenade as a trap.” “But who would do something like that?” Flare asked, his ears swivelling as he looked around nervously. “Someone who was trying to bag whoever’d investigate these bodies...” Burton trailed off as he noticed that of all the doors on the side hallway, only one was closed. Gesturing to Cloudhammer and the others, he lifted his rifle and moved to stand beside the door. Waiting a moment for the ponies to get into position, he tested the doorknob, trying to push the door open when it turned. With a light thud it ran into something and wouldn’t budge. “Shit. Well, might as well, they know we’re here,” he muttered, “St Louis police! Open the door!” There was a muted scuffle of noise and the door opened a crack. “Show me your badge first!” A voice replied, as cold as black ice. Burton thought about it for a second, then pulled out his badge and held it to the crack. The door opened a little wider, and after a second more there was a sigh of relief. “Alright. Just give us a moment.” The door closed, and something heavy could be heard sliding across the floor. A few voices spoke quietly with each other, and a number of clatters could be heard before the door was opened. Burton shoved it the rest of the way with his foot and entered the room, rifle raised, the ponies following after him. He stopped for a second to process the scene in front of him There were four terrorists in the room, all standing with their hands held in front of them. Clustered around their ankles were a dozen foals, all staring at the officers warningly. Around them were four adult ponies, three mares and a stallion. And standing between all of this and them was an earth pony mare and a pegasus stallion. On the desk, four assault rifles, pistols and grenades sat harmlessly. “So, mind explaining what in the hell is going on here?” Corporal Burton asked. One of the men lowered his hands, but kept them in view. “Well, we want to surrender ourselves.” Burton blinked. The Guardponies all blinked. As one their eyes widened in disbelief. “Wait, you what?” Flare managed to stammer out first. The terrorist laughed despite himself. “We’re surrendering. You know, putting down our arms and giving up?” “We understand what you meant, but it’s surprising, given the behavior of the rest of you today,” Cloudhammer said with a snort. Rangel scowled, looking down at the foals around him. “Well, sometimes a man has to choose what values he’s willing to throw away and which ones he can’t.” Burton narrowed his eyes. “And would it be a valid assumption to make that you had something to do with those bodies in the other room?” The foals all shrunk back, and Rangel took a breath, but Cirrus beat him to it, “Now see here! Those other humans wanted Steve and the others to kill us all, and they courageously turned their weapons on their own to protect us! Then when other soldiers came looking for them, they set up the booby trap and were ready to lay down their lives to defend ours! So don’t criticize them! I’m proud to call Steve my friend in spite of all this!” For a moment, no one said anything. Cirrus’ wings were flared upright, and he was breathing heavily, a hoof digging angrily at the carpet. Then Steve shook his head and put a hand on the pegasus’ shoulder. “Calm down there buddy, not a thing he said that wasn’t true.” He looked up at Burton. “He is right, my commanding officer ordered me and the rest of us to kill these foals. But we just couldn’t bring ourselves to do so. So we killed them, set the grenade trap, and barricaded the room.” Burton thought it over before he shrugged. “Well, I can’t fault you for doing it, but I guess I’m still not sure what prompted you to remain and defend the ponies when you could have tried to escape.” Rangel nodded. “Well, for starters, it’s not like we could go back to the HLF after killing our commanding officers. Not to mention after we went to the trouble of saving these ponies, just abandoning them didn’t seem right.” Every single guardpony went stiff. Cloudhammer’s eyes narrowed. “Did you say that you’re members of the HLF?” Rangel swallowed nervously in the face of the pegasus’ piercing glare. “W-well, not anymore. I still think ponification is wrong, but I’m not about to cross a line like shooting kids about it.” Cloudhammer held his glare for a second longer before nodding. “I do think I’d like to talk to you further about the HLF. There’s a lot we’d like to know about them, and any information you all can share would be most appreciated.” “Now hold on a second! These men have committed crimes here in St Louis! They’re under our jurisdiction now!” Burton protested. “That they may be, but I still want to be able to find out what they know. Now, there’s the serum research facility that still needs to be cleared. Flare, I want you to go charge the Beacon Stone, let White Noise know he’s safe to begin sending their aid into the Bureau. Corporal Burton, you have custody of these humans. Though if I may, I’d like you to assist us with clearing the facility.” “Uhhh, sure.” Burton gestured for his men to take the four terrorists into custody. “We’ll be holding you here for the time being, since we don’t want to risk those fu-” he looked down at the foals, “guys coming back and trying to hurt you.” Cloudhammer nodded and turned to leave. “Alright, let’s get going. I think the answers we’re looking for will be in the serum research facility.” “Be advised Lambert, initial hostile forces are coming along the I-170 toward the freight terminal, ETA five minutes or less. Estimate enemy strength at around two hundred. Air support not available at this time.” The radio crackled into Captain Ian Hodges’ ear. “Lovely of them to not provide air support,” He snapped irritably. “Alright, listen up! We’re going to be entertaining guests in five minutes! I expect all of you to be perfect hosts and show these bastards what it means to fuck with the US Marines! Do I make myself clear?” The men they’d managed to pull together shouted their acknowledgement over their radios as the eight trucks that hadn’t been down for repairs raced across the runways toward the freight terminal. The Marines had been itching to jump into the one-sided battle that had been raging downtown all morning, and the prospect of finally being able to put the bastards down had them all wound up. Pulling into the parking lot in a squeal of rubber, the trucks formed a staggered line, men carrying assault rifles leaping out and starting to drag anything they could get their hands on into defensive positions, every so often shooting glances toward the access road. “I want snipers to push back, set up on top of the roof there!” Hodges barked, the three two-man teams nodding before running to the wall, where they grabbed a nearby service ladder and quickly started climbing up. “Sir! Movement on the road!” One of the soldiers shouted as a quarter of black Suburbans swung around the turn, the truck in the lead sporting a minigun. They skidded to a stop, the minigun swinging to aim directly at them. “Marksmen! Take out that goddamned gun!” Hodges shouted as the Marines dug into cover and the minigun opened up in a buzzing roar. Cracks of rifle fire answered as each squad’s designated marksman took aim at the minigunner. The other trucks pulled up alongside it, doors opening as the men inside started leaping out and returning fire. Suddenly, a louder crack cut over the rifle fire, the minigun driver’s head vaporizing in a spray of red. Hodges didn’t turn around, but thanked all the gods he could think of for the sniper support. “Alright! Keep their heads down! We can turn this around!” The Marines redoubled their firepower with a cheer as more black trucks came into view, a pair of large tractor trailers visible among them. The covered walkway connecting the Bureau to the research facility was eerily silent as the seven guards made their way down it carefully, the dozen police officers holding their weapons nervously. Flare had remained behind to take a break, and to coordinate the reinforcements and medical staff now pouring through the Beacon Stone. “Alright, we’ll check the research wings first, and then the rear of the building,” Cloudhammer said quietly. “Works for me,” Corporal Burton said as they reached the door, half closed. Carefully edging the door open, the mixed group made its way along the hallways, glancing about worriedly before Lariat’s ears suddenly folded back and his eyes narrowed. “Something’s not right...” he muttered. “You’re right Lariat. Something is definitely strange here.” Wrecker said, his eyes scanning the walls. “What do you mean?” Burton asked, tightening his grip. “There’s no bullet holes here, no shell casings, or magazines. Which means that if the HLF came through here, they’d either killed the security contingent or hadn’t found them yet.” Cloudhammer’s eyes widened as he realized Wrecker was right. “Good eye, Wrecker. Let’s get to the labs.” Following the signs, the group moved quickly toward the research wing. As they drew close, Wrecker’s nose twitched as a strange smell made itself known. “Hold it, do you smell that?” Anvil winced, he thought he’d been quiet about it. “Sorry, think the food from that club isn’t agreeing with me tovarich.” Everyone stopped and stared at the earth pony for a few seconds. Wrecker shook his head. “Not that smell you idiot There’s something else...” He sniffed the air again. “I’ve never smelled anything like it, have you Captain Exemplar?” Aegis took a deep breath through his snout, eyes both closed to help him focus. “Couldn’t be... Cloudhammer, is that what I think it is?” Cloudhammer didn’t even answer, his eyes wide enough the whites were visible. “No... they couldn’t be... not here...” Getting himself together, he shot a look at the others. “Tighten the formation now. Corporal Burton, have your men keep their weapons up, don’t let your guard down for a second.” “What is it?” Burton asked, a trace of fear in his voice as he lifted the rifle, the other officers doing the same. Anvil, Wrecker, Lariat and Dusty started instinctively edging closer together, their ears flat as the musky odor steadily got stronger the closer they got to the door ahead.. Cloudhammer ignored him, striding toward the door to the lab and kicking it open with his forehooves. The inside of the room was a mess, beakers and equipment smashed across the floor, and two trails of blood could be seen leading from the middle of the room, armor scattered around as if it’d been violently torn off. Cloudhammer lowered his head to peer at a piece before he stiffened. “Do you know where the HLF were going, Corporal Burton?” “Well, the I-70 leads north to Lambert airport, there’s US Marines stationed there though, so they won’t be going anywhere from there.” “Can you get in contact with them?” Cloudhammer’s voice was hard. “Not likely, it’s probable that they’ve already engaged the HLF forces already...” Burton trailed off as Cloudhammer turned around, something held in his mouth. “It doesn’t matter. If we don’t get in touch with them right now, they are going to die.” Cloudhammer said, passing the single tawny feather to Burton, who looked at it curiously. “What in the world is this from?” The firefight was proving to be more brutal than Hodges had thought. Whoever these fuckers were, they were no slouches. They’d dropped most of the minigun trucks between the snipers and the designated marksmen, and had inflicted heavy casualties on the regular terrorists. But they’d taken a significant number of casualties in return. He guessed that maybe forty percent of his men remained, but they’d knocked the hostiles down to a paltry twenty five or thirty percent. Not too shabby for being outnumbered two to one. “Sir! One of the trucks is moving up!” A Lance Corporal shouted, and Hodges risked a glance over the barricade he was crouched behind. Sure enough, one of the tractor trailers had turned around and was backing up toward them. The surviving snipers on the roof fired a few rounds at it, but its armor seemed to be thicker than the Suburbans. “What in the hell are they doing?” Hodges muttered before the back of the trailer suddenly clanged down, the interior dark from the sun outside. “Ready weapons!” The Marines swung their rifles into position, fingers on their triggers and ready to fire. They weren’t ready for what burst out of the back with an inhuman screech, landing heavily on the pavement. “What in God’s name...” Hodges gaped openly at the sight. “Is that... a griffon?” The griffon stood approximately five, maybe six feet tall, and maybe eight feet from head to rump. What he could see of its muscled upper body was covered in tawny brown feathers, lighter around its head. The back half was covered in short, wiry grey hair. Over its body it wore a bulky suit of articulated leather armor, with steel rivets dotting it, as well as a helmet composed of the same material. But what worried him more was the unmistakable profile of the M249 slung across its back, and the M32 grenade launcher held in one of the eagle clawed forepaws. Its cold eyes seemed to stare directly at him, boring into him like he was a just a piece of meat. Feeling beads of sweat starting to form, his eyes twitched toward the trailer and saw three more hulking shapes moving toward the rear of the trailer. “F-fire! Open fire now!” he shouted, pulling the trigger on his rifle, as did the thirty nine men holding the line with him. They weren’t fast enough. The griffon had already sprung into the air, and began to fire it’s grenades not at the men on the ground, but directly at the snipers on the roof. The explosions blew them to pieces before the spotters could finish getting their rifles up. The other three griffons surged out of the trailer and into the air, one holding another M249 in both clawed feet while the others each had a submachine gun held one-pawed, which they began to use to deadly effect against the now-exposed Marines. They tried to return fire, but the terrorists rose up from behind their trucks and began lending their own firepower to the chaos. The Marines put up a good showing, managing to take down ten more terrorists and knock a griffon from the sky when it got too eager for a kill. But ultimately, the griffons were too quick for the Marines to get a reliable shot, and the ones that did hit, their armor seemed to stop, leading Hodges to suspect that they had another layer of body armor underneath the leather. After another five minutes of resistance the Marines were all dead or dying. The griffons landed and began to stalk among the fallen, three of them leaning down to rip a beakful of flesh from the still living, grinning savagely at their screams. The one with the grenade launcher, meanwhile, strode up to glare down at Hodges. Tilting its head, it examined the bullet wounds in his torso and arm, and after seeming to find some satisfaction, it tossed his M4 aside and took his helmet off. Lifting the grenade launcher, it hissed a string of words at the others before swinging the launcher to collide with the side of his head, sending him spiraling into the darkness.