//------------------------------// // Detour // Story: The Big Payday // by CannedRyby //------------------------------// It was well past midday when the Manehattan-Canterlot train pulled into the train station. The ride was comfortable enough for the group (even if everypony on the train avoided their compartment at all costs) and they disembarked without a word from any of the attendants present. The Canterlot train station was more the size of a palace; marble walls and pillars combined with a completely glassed dome ceiling that somehow transfigured all of the incoming light into colors of the rainbow had the power to make any tourist stop and take a look. Ponies of all shapes and sizes made their way through the central atrium, a cacophony of busy talk and conversation all around. Good conditions to blend in undetected. Smooth let a moment to let it sink in. "We're being tailed, get a move on." "By whom, may I ask?" Ribald asked, looking over his shoulders. Sky needed only a second's glance to confirm. "Yeah, I see them. Two guardponies on our six. They're looking straight at us," he commented, not even facing the direction they were coming from. Sure enough, there were two guardponies in full armor looking directly at the group behind a moving blob of pedestrians. "Do they know what we're doing?" Mocha Joe asked, suddenly feeling more insecure under his trenchcoat. Smooth snorted involuntarily. "I doubt it. The attendant from earlier probably tipped them off, though," he paused to light a cigarette with magic and put it in his mouth, "I suggest we don't stay to find out. Ribald, Sky, take a left and head for the east exit. Mocha, follow me towards the northern one." The group nodded in unison and moved forward. The train station was so packed that they went past effortlessly, slinking past passerbys and avoiding open spaces where they could be seen. Ribald and Sky had to take a detour under a kiosk selling umbrellas when they saw that one of the guards was actually a pegasus and was hovering in the air. Smooth and Mocha didn't have it any easier, though, as their guardpony was a unicorn and was actively casting a detection spell that took the shape of a ghostly bloodhound. Regardless, they reached their destinations and a single glance at each other was all they needed to know they were home free. Canterlot was lovely this time of year, as the trees turned into brilliant shades of red and yellow and ponies started wearing autumn fashions that wonderfully complimented the Equestrian city. Canterlot Central was on a normally busy street, full of haggling street vendors and patrician pedestrians. The group met up at a hole-in-the-wall cafe on the other side. Taking their seats and waving away the waitress because they didn't need refreshments, four ponies in trenchcoats and trilbies huddled together at a solitary table in the corner. "We ditched the moron pretty well back there, Sky. Good thinking with the umbrellas!" Ribald commended Sky, patting him on the back. Sky Scraper shrugged. "Two of my worst apprentices to date, can't blame Lieutenant for putting them on station duty." Ribald burst into laughter, managing to surprise everypony at the table and scare everypony in the cafe. "That's right, I forgot you were a pro investigator, but apprentices? You used to teach?" Ribald laughed right in the former guardspony's face. Sky looked back unimpressed, but nodded. "Standard procedure for senior guardsponies. The experienced teaches the unexperienced, and I had the honor to teach 48 recruits individually. The last two barely made the grade," he remarked offhandedly. "Enough with the antics, let's get down to business," said Smooth, crushing his used up cigarette into the ashtray on the table. "It's just past midday and the party's tonight, so we don't have much time to prepare for this one. To sum it up, we're gonna have to show up here," his horn lit up and a business card with "JOE'S CATERING SERVICES" and a familiar donut shop owner pasted on the front appeared on the table. Mocha Joe turned a rosy shade of red, but found no words to express his embarrassment. If Ribald could have laughed any harder he would have had a stroke. Mocha shut him up with a slap on the back of the jokester's head. Smooth raised an eyebrow, but ventured no farther. "Joe's Catering Service is where we're going to go under disguise and prepare for the party at hand. My contact made sure four unlucky gentleponies were sick with the magiflu today, and the company is conveniently short of four workers. We're going to fill in that gap, but we're going to do more than just passing hor d'oeurves around tea tables." Another flash of magic and the business card was replaced with a pouch made of flax and tied with a string of unknown purple material. Smooth and Sky remained neutral in their expression, but both Ribald and Mocha stared at the bag in question. A solitary hoof from Mocha pointed at it. "What are we going to do with that? Wrap one of the old coot's hooves up and kidnap him?" The light-brown mastermind nodded, making Ribald scratch his head and Mocha wrinkle his eyebrows. "It's a Bag of Infinity. It stretches to whatever you can fit in it and said object or objects are held in stasis in an infinite plane..," Smooth stopped when he realized that Ribald had stopped following at 'said'. He sighed, and explained simply, "We're going to put him in a bag, but the bag can fit in a coat pocket. Understood? "Yeah, I read you, Smoothie. Corner the oldest looking stallion in the party and stuff him into a coin purse," Ribald mimicked the actions of forcing a pony into a space they really couldn't fit into. Smooth felt himself involuntarily roll his eyes, and forced four tuxedos into existence with a flash of light from his horn. Each one had clip-on bowties and fake nametags: Ribald was Rose Bouquet, Smooth was Brownie Delight, Sky was Vanilla Cream, and Mocha Joe was...Mocha Joe. The look of disgust on the brawny stallion's could have melted the nametag right then and there. "Why are all of you disguised and I get to be myself? Don't you think that defeats the purpose of getting fake names in the first place!?" Mocha Joe erupted, pointing an accusatory hoof at Smooth. Smooth shook his head. "Fancy Pants is expecting a representative from the catering company, and you fit the bill quite well. He'll probably think you're the 'Joe' in Joe's Catering Services." Smooth Operator levitated a cigarette to his mouth, lighting it with a simple spark of magic. He took a deep blow, and let the smoke release from his lungs. "Besides, he'll only be mistaking one brother for the other one. Common mistake, really." He said nonchalantly. Mocha Joe was absolutely fuming; his ears pointed downwards and Ribald swore that he had seen steam bellowing out of his compatriot's nostrils. Sky sat as cool as a cucumber. "We've got 30 minutes. Change into your uniforms, grab a bite, whatever. Meet back here and we'll go to the catering company." Smooth said. The group nodded in unison, and four ponies in trilbies and trenchcoats left the cafe on the other side of the street.