Phillip sat on the curb, eyes closed as he forced himself to breathe slowly and deeply. In for three. Hold. Feel the stone beneath your hooves, the wind on your back. Out for three. Let your muscles relax. It’s okay. You’re okay.
Yet his hooves would not stop shaking, and his heart trembled in his chest like it was going to leap right out of his ribcage at a moment’s notice. He opened his eyes with a sigh and looked around.
The museum was awash in red and blue lights from the cruisers and ambulances parked out front. Ponies roamed to and fro and the crackling of radios and voices provided constant background noise.
Phil looked over to a nearby ambulance, staring into the open back. Daring was sitting on one stretcher, holding an ice pack to her head with a shaking hoof and staring at the floor; Phil could see the tips of her wings twitching involuntarily as she took slow, deep breaths. Sergeant Coastline was on the other stretcher, also holding an ice pack to his head, frowning pensively.
“Phil?”
Phillip looked up as Suunkii hurried over, his bag of equipment rattling by the zebra’s side. Suunkii bent down and hugged Phillip, who stiffened momentarily before returning the embrace.
“Are you all right? Is Daring?” Suunkii asked, pulling back to study Phil, his wide emerald eyes staring out of his ashen face.
“Fine,” Phillip nodded. He shook his head and extended his arm, trying to force himself to think clearly through the fog of shock that hung over his head. “Plague Doctor used…”
The yellow smoke was thick and stinging, clawing at his eyes, nostrils, and throat as it invaded him. It smelled of chemicals and rust and he choked on it as it filled his lungs. The eyes, red as blood, stared at him through the cloud for a moment, blazing with hate...then the pupils grew to swallow the light whole--
Phillip shook his head, gasping for breath, tasting the cold, wet air of the outdoors. It’s okay. It’s okay. They’re not here.
“Phil?” Suunkii asked.
“Plague Doctor used a toxin. Need you to take a blood sample,” Phillip said, extending his arm again.
“Yes, I see,” Suunkii nodded, pulling out a syringe and a test tube. “Are you sure that you are all right? What happened? Give me as much detail about your symptoms as you can.”
“He…” Phillip swallowed and closed his eyes, mopping his face. “He snuck up on us. Nearly took us out right then and there. Had these...vials on a bandolier. Made smoke. It...” He took a breath. “Made me see things. Hear things. That weren’t there. Made me…” He swallowed back his shame. “Made me scared. Rapid heart rate. Faster breathing. Sweating.”
“I see,” Suunkii nodded, swabbing iodine on Phillip’s shoulder. “I strongly recommend that you two monitor your symptoms for the next few days, to be sure that there are no residual effects.” He took the syringe in his hoof and clamped his teeth onto the plunger’s mouth grip. “This may sting a bit.”
Phillip barely felt the syringe go in, acknowledging it only with a small grunt. He instead watched as Daring got up off the stretcher in the ambulance, dropping the ice pack onto the cloth and shrugging off the paramedic as she trotted over to them.
Suunkii finished drawing Phillip’s blood and placed the syringe into his bag. “Are you all right, Daring?” he asked her.
“I’d be better if they didn’t get away,” Daring grunted. “You need to prick me?”
“Yes,” Suunkii nodded, bandaging Phillip’s foreleg. As he pulled a fresh syringe out of his bag, he glanced at the two detectives.
“If I might ask…” he said slowly. “What did you see?”
An oily voice laughed in the distance and Phillip’s skin crawled as he felt hot breath running down his back. He shuddered, then took a breath to steady himself. Running wouldn’t solve anything.
“Zugzwang,” he admitted. “I saw Zugzwang. It...freaked me out more than I thought it would. All of a sudden, I just forgot all of my training. I just wanted to get away from him.” He shook his head. “Shit...I thought I was over all that.”
“You must not blame yourself,” Suunkii said tenderly, swabbing Daring’s forearm with iodine. “Your experiences left deep scars, and it appears that this hallucinogenic toxin forces one to relive their deepest fears.”
Daring hesitated for a moment, turning away as Suunkii poked her shoulder with the syringe, then sighed. “A namorodo,” she admitted.
“That’s why you froze up,” Phillip realized.
“Yeah,” Daring nodded. “I should’ve known it wasn’t real, but...it’s like my brain was totally, completely convinced that it was there. Took me a while to snap out of it.”
“And you did, just in time to save my life again,” Phillip replied, managing to smile at her.
Daring cracked a feeble smile at him as Doctor Suunkii bandaged her foreleg. “Do I get a lollipop now?” she asked him, earning an eye roll and a small grin in response.
“I know that you are not going to rest for now,” Suunkii said. “But you should both monitor yourselves and each other for any further developments; if you feel any unusual symptoms, get to a doctor immediately. There is no telling what else that poison has done to you.”
“Detectives.”
Officer Starwatch, Cold Case, and Captain Oak approached them, their faces grim.
“I’m guessing you lost them,” Daring said.
“Misfortune was upon us,” Captain Oak nodded. “The first officers were just arriving when the two fiends who stole the Rings exited the building, and the unicorn was able to teleport himself and his friend beyond our perimeter. We didn’t see where they went.”
“And the Plague Doctor flew out of an upper window before we could secure the air,” Starwatch admitted. She hung her head. “I tried to chase him, but he was too fast; I lost him in a cloud.”
“I’ve already got a ring of officers scanning the area for any sign of them,” Cold Case reported. “If they left any trace, we’ll find them.”
“I hope so,” Phillip said, turning to face Daring, seeing the same haunted look in her pale red eyes.
The sun rose slowly over the city of Ponyville, casting the buildings into shades of cold grays and whites. The frosty air bit at the flesh of those who dared venture outside.
Inside the police precinct, Cold Case stood at the window of her office, staring out at her city as if she thought that she could spot her prey from her vantage point. Inserting her pipe into her mouth, she took a long draw of the cinnamon-flavored tobacco, hoping that the stimulant would dispel the phantom of exhaustion that was hanging over the room.
She turned to face the other occupants of the room, all of them standing before her desk: Phillip Finder, Daring Do, Doctor Suunkii, Twilight Sparkle, Red Herring, and Flash Sentry. Their faces were all creased with exhaustion, shadows beneath their eyes, blinking and stifling yawns.
Cold glanced down at the paper on the desk in front of her. An old photograph of a stallion in a black, beaked mask stared back at her. Once more, she read over the bold-printed words.
WANTED BY THE ROYAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
"PLAGUE DOCTOR"
Murder, terrorism, war crimes, kidnapping, armed robbery.
Name unknown--pegasus--red eyes--yellow coat--approx. 3' 9"--slim build--cutie mark unknown
Often accompanied by a raven
This unidentified pony is believed to have been a high-ranking member of King Sombra's secret police during the Crystal War. He is known to have completed several assassinations of Equestrian military and political officials, to have been involved in equine rights violations against the Crystal Ponies, and to have used prisoners of war for biological and chemical weapon experiments. He is also wanted in connection to multiple murders, robberies, and abductions throughout Equestria committed after the war.
ARMED AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS: DO NOT APPROACH.
“Right,” Cold Case said, chewing on the stem of her pipe. “Report. Did you find any trace of the Plague Doctor or the Ring thieves?”
“No,” Red admitted, shaking his head. “We did find vehicle traces in a nearby alleyway that we believe are from their getaway vehicle: looks like a van. Unfortunately, we lost their trail on Hummingbird amidst all the other traffic. And they took routes that avoided surveillance crystals. Detective Rubber is doing his best with what he’s got, but I wouldn’t hold out hope.”
“Didn’t find any useful clues in the museum,” Phillip reported, pausing to try to swallow and remove the taste of cotton from his mouth, casting a longing glance at the coffee machine in the corner. “Jammer erased any surveillance footage; it was put in at 9:04 that night, well after the museum closed, but before the wankers got in.”
Cold gritted her teeth. “The museum theft needs to be our priority right now. Whatever that terrorist has planned for the Rings, he has to be stopped. How did they pull off the theft?”
“The guards at the museum were all drugged with a Confounding Potion,” Doctor Suunkii reported. “It is a potion intended to put its victims into a trance-like state for a period of time, during which they are incapable of responding to most stimuli or forming memories. The source was the coffee machine in the locker room. It is apparent that the thieves were hoping to replace the actual Rings with the copies and be gone before anypony had a chance to notice anything wrong.”
“That, and the fact that somepony placed a jammer on the security crystal all points to one thing,” Flash said. “One of the guards was an inside pony.”
“Which means that we’ll have to question them all,” Red grunted. “Unless there’s some way to narrow it down…”
A rapping at the office door interrupted them. “Chief?” an officer asked, opening the door. “Sorry to intrude, but we just got a message for Finder and Do from Trottingham PD.”
“Bring it in,” Cold Case nodded.
The young officer entered, holding out a manila folder. “Here, detectives,” he said, extending it to Phillip.
“Thank you,” Phillip said, taking the folder and opening it up. His eyes brightened as he studied the contents. “It’s a letter from Detective Skybrush.”
Dear Detectives Finder and Do,
Heard about the theft over the radio last night. I hope you’re okay; I wouldn’t want to end up facing the Plague Doctor! I can’t believe he’s in Ponyville, he hasn’t been seen for years!
After you left Trottingham, I continued examining Perfect Deal’s motel room. Didn’t turn up much else, and what I found is already being forwarded to your lab. However, I did ask if he’d made any phone calls while he was there. Turns out he used the public payphone across the street quite a lot. I subpoenaed the phone records and there’s one number in Ponyville that turns up a lot. I sent you a copy and highlighted the number for you. Maybe that’ll help with this.
Silver Plate’s been released without being charged, but I don’t think the DA’s fully convinced. You’d better find this Perfect Deal guy fast. Good luck.
Detective Skybrush.
Behind the letter was a record of phone calls, with several lines highlighted. Phillip and Daring both studied it, tired grins on their faces.
“That mate’s blood’s worth bottling,” Phillip nodded.
“Yeah, he’s almost more helpful than you,” Daring added, grinning at Red and earning a Flying Feather in response.
“Best get to work,” Phillip said, taking the folder and heading for the door.
“Hold on,” Chief Cold stopped them with a raised hoof. “Are you sure you two are okay?”
Daring rolled her eyes with a groan. “We’re fine, Cold. The toxin wore off completely after only a couple hours.”
Cold frowned at her, the skepticism on her face failing to completely hide the concern in her eyes.
“Cold, really,” Phillip said. “We’re fine. I promise. And we’re being careful.”
Cold sighed. “All right. Go.”
Phillip and Daring promptly exited, heading downstairs.
“Right,” Cold nodded. “Do any of you have any other clues?”
“We should be putting the squeeze on the Industry Kings again,” Red suggested.
“How’s that?” Cold Case asked.
“I completed an analysis of blood samples from the four dead ponies from the landfill,” Doctor Suunkii reported. “One of the victims, Greg Granite, had trace elements in his blood that were similar to traces in Phillip Finder and Daring Do’s blood. I am convinced that this is the Plague Doctor’s hallucinogenic toxin, though Greg Granite received a much stronger dose. I believe that this was enough to terrify him into committing suicide.”
“That, and the Doctor’s raven killed Curveball,” Flash added.
“Somepony has to know who he is or where he is,” Red growled. “They’re tied into this mess somehow. Now that I think about it, I bet that it has to do with their smuggling operations.”
“Good idea,” Cold said. “Get in touch with your informants, see if they’re willing to talk. And keep me posted on anything else that turns up.”
“I somehow doubt it,” Flash muttered, but followed Red out.
“Chief, I spent most of last night studying the toxin samples,” Twilight said, pausing to yawn. “Doctor Suunkii and I were able to break down some of the basic components, but the rest is...I have no idea what it is. This is the best sample that we’ve gotten of his toxin in years; if I’m going to create an antidote--”
“You’re not going to,” Cold Case cut her off. “I know you’re intelligent and experienced, but this is beyond your ken, and your focus. I’ve already sent a message to a contact in the military.”
“You refer to Lieutenant General Beacon Fire,” Suunkii stated with a small quirk of his eyebrow.
“Yes,” Cold replied with absolutely no change in her tone. “She’ll be coming here tomorrow to collect your samples and any data that you have made.”
“But--” Twilight started to protest.
“Twilight,” Cold cut her off again in a gentler tone, placing a hoof on the younger unicorn’s shoulder. “I know that you want to help stop him, but the best that you can do right now is to focus on crime scene evidence. The best scientists in Equestria have been trying to make an antidote to the Plague Doctor’s toxin for years, and none have succeeded. Let this one go.”
Twilight looked like she was going to argue further, but sighed and nodded. “I understand.”
“Good,” Cold nodded, dismissing them. “Now get to work. Bring me that Doctor.”
The indigo-coated earth stallion fidgeted in his seat in the interrogation room, his eyes going from his hooves to the stallion across the desk from him before quickly darting back down. Phillip stared silently at his target, leaning back in his chair as he flicked through the folder in front of him.
“Moon Watch,” Phillip finally said. “How long have you been working security for the museum?”
“Ten years,” Moon Watch replied in a voice that carried a trace of a Mareish accent, glancing up at him before focusing on the folder on the table between them, subconsciously brushing off his mud-brown parka. “But I’m guessing you already knew that.”
Phillip stared at him, never blinking, never moving his gaze away. “And before that?” he continued.
“I was a cop in Trottingham,” Moon Watch grunted, still staring at the folder. “Worked there for nearly twenty years before deciding to retire and move here for a quieter pace. Look, what’s this about?” he protested, looking up at Phil for the first time. “I have other things to do.”
“About your time in Trottingham,” Phillip continued as if he had not heard. “Uneventful career?”
“Completely normal,” Moon huffed. “Made it up to sergeant, hurt my knee in a fight, decided to retire. What does it matter?”
“Why did you do it, Moon?” Phillip asked. “Why’d you help steal the Rings?”
Moon Watch froze in his seat, his eyes bulging in disbelief. “Wh-what?! How could you say--?!”
“We know you got several calls from Trottingham,” Phillip said, pushing the phone record list with the highlighted numbers forward. Moon Watch’s home telephone. “We know it came from one of the ponies who stole the Rings.” He leaned forward slightly.
“He knew about Fig Leaf, didn’t he?” he hissed.
Moon Watch froze, sweat running down from beneath his mane of silver hair.
“I had a friend pull your file from Trottingham PD,” Phillip said, turning the page to reveal a personnel file. A younger Moon Watch stared up at them, smiling from the page, adorned in a new police uniform.
“It’s clean. Too clean,” Phillip said. “All except for one thing: an arrest record from your last year there. Bloke by the name of Fig Leaf was arrested for counterfeiting and drug-running. Committed suicide in his cell before he could be charged.” He scowled at Moon. “Bloody convenient.”
“That’s…” Moon Watch started to protest, but his voice caught in his throat.
“And you were the one who arrested the bloke,” Phillip continued. “And here’s the thing: there’s some rumors that Fig and his smuggling ring was connected to another tosser, Golden Harp. Trottingham citizen. Ties to the Mareish Mob. And your brother-in-law.” He scowled at the sweating stallion across from him. “Very bloody convenient,” he repeated.
Moon Watch stared at Phillip for a few moments longer, then his face hardened. “I did not steal the Rings,” he stated coolly. “Those phone calls are none of your fucking business. And if we’re done here, I have a meeting.”
Phillip just stared at him in silence for a few moments, then leaned back and gestured for the door. Moon Watch stood up and stalked for the door, shooting the detective a venomous glare as he exited.
“You’re a loose end, Moon,” Phillip said as the door opened. “Bear that in mind.”
The stallion paused in the door for a moment, head turned in thought, then he exited. He kept his head low as he sped down the hall, ignoring the two creatures that had been standing at the one-way mirror.
“Would you mind explaining yourselves, detectives?” Captain Hewn Oak asked Phillip as he exited the interrogation room. “You are allowing your best suspect to leave without a confession.”
“He wasn’t going to talk, Captain,” Phillip replied calmly. “But as I said, he’s a loose end.”
“And I’d bet anything that he’s heading to get whatever payoff he was promised,” Daring Do said, puffing on her cigarette.
“Ah, I see,” Captain Oak nodded. “Letting the snake go free to tempt the fox from its den.”
“Exactly,” Phillip nodded. “After you, Daring.”
“Such a gentlepony,” Daring said with a small grin as she turned and headed the opposite way that Moon had left. Exiting out a side door, she immediately took to the sky, settling on a cloud hanging over the front doors.
The elder earth pony was heading for the closest trolley stop, his head low, eyes darting back and forth as he licked his lips. He sat down on the bench as a couple of police officers passed by, averting his gaze.
Daring flipped open the enchanted notebook and scrawled a note on it. He’s taking a trolley.
After a few moments, a reply in Phillip’s hoofwriting appeared on the page: Right. I’ll tell Flash and Red.
Daring watched as the trolley rattled up to the stop, brakes squealing as it halted. Moon got up and hustled onto the vehicle, pushing past the ponies exiting. After a few moments, the trolley started back up and continued down the road, its bell dinging to clear the way.
Daring took off and flew over the trolley, making sure to stay directly above it so that nopony inside could see her. She moved from cloud to cloud, cover to cover. She paused at every stop, carefully watching the ponies that exited.
It was on the fourth stop that she finally spotted the earth pony leaving, his head turning from side to side as he hurried down the sidewalk. Fifth and Sunflower, she quickly scrawled into the notebook, following him from above.
As she stalked her prey, she saw a motorcycle with a sidecar pull up on a parallel street, pausing at a stop sign. The driver, an orange pegasus in a black pleather riding jacket, pants, and a helmet with a tinted visor, glanced over at his passenger, a black-maned earth pony in a blue vest wearing a cap and a scarf. The passenger in the blue vest and white pants tossed his scarf over his shoulder and pointed to his eye with a hoof.
I have the target.
Nodding, Daring continued to watch Moon Watch head down the street. He paused at the corner of a small bar with the name “Ace in the Hole” displayed in flickering neon over the door, looking around for any pursuers, then pushed the door open and headed in.
Daring glanced at her notebook. Heading in.
The motorcycle turned a corner and parked on the other side of the block, and the riders disembarked, the driver removing his coat to reveal the suit beneath it and trading his helmet for a fedora as he climbed off. The two stallions trotted into the Ace in the Hole one after the other as a rust-colored Diplomat 600 pulled up and parked in a public lot across the way. Daring took up position overhead, staring down at the squat building as if she could see through the brick ceiling.
Inside, The Ace in the Hole proved to be a small, close affair. A circular bar was set in the center of the room, dozens of beers and ciders on tap and many other liquors prominently displayed in a rainbow of colorful glasses. Booths were set up along the perimeter of the bar, a little more than half of them occupied. A jukebox stood next to one of the two doors that led to a separate room; the box crooned out a light jazz tune, the notes mingling with the constant chatter of the patrons. The scents of liquor, tobacco, and sweat hung in the air.
Phillip and Flash proceeded to the bar and sat down on the stools, taking a casual glance around the bar as they did so. “Seven o’clock,” Flash whispered to Phil as he put his forelegs on the bar.
Phillip grunted in affirmation, turning to look at his student. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the indigo earth pony sitting in a corner booth, his head down as he pondered the bottle of beer in front of him, smoke from his cigarette (Mareboro Smooth, judging by the scent) obscuring his face.
“What’ll you have, boys?” the hippogriff bartender asked them.
“Uh...Blue Moon,” Flash said.
Phil looked over the taps and frowned to discover that Kanga-Rum was not on the menu. “Same,” he grunted.
As the bartender got their drinks, Phillip allowed his gaze to pan over the rest of the crowd. The other patrons were all mostly focused on their drinks and cigarettes and newspapers; topics of conversation ranged from last week’s Manticores game to last night’s robbery.
“--heard that some masked freak was part of it,” Phillip heard a blonde unicorn telling his friend. “Some guy wearing a healer’s mask. The...Plague Doctor?”
His companion, an overweight green-maned unicorn, snickered. “Yeah, right,” he said. “From what I heard, that freak hasn’t been seen in years.”
“Who would even go around dressed like that?” the unicorn snorted. “Like a damn Nightmare Night costume…”
Ice ran down Phillip’s spine and he gripped the bottle tight like it was a lifeline back to reality.
“Phil? What’s wrong?” Flash asked, gripping his shoulder.
Phillip closed his eyes for a moment and took a slow breath in, embracing the fear, accepting that he was afraid. Then he slowly let it out, exhaling his fear out with it.
“I’m fine,” he nodded, giving Flash a small smile.
Flash frowned at the talking ponies. “I don’t see why Chief Case won’t tell everypony that the Plague Doctor’s here,” he grumbled. “Ponies should know.”
“Flash, it was barely three months ago when we had zombies and an eldritch monster running around town,” Phillip replied. “Think she just doesn’t want to start a panic.”
Flash let out a thoughtful murmur. “That’s fair, I guess,” he said. “I just don’t think that we should be hiding this from ponies.”
Philip let out a noncommittal grunt, continuing to scan the room. “Wonder who he’s meeting,” Flash murmured. “Bet he’s hoping to get the rest of his pay--”
Something caught Phillip’s attention: a stallion sprawled across one chair next to the door, leaning back in his seat while enjoying his smoke and the bottle of bourbon that he held in his left hoof. The purple unicorn had a white beard clinging to his jaw, stained yellow from menthol. He was wearing a black parka, currently unzipped, and a pair of jeans. A gold earring dangled from one ear, glittering in the light. As Phillip watched, the stallion shifted in place, adjusting his parka; he kept his right hoof on the umbrella that was standing on the ground next to him.
Phillip pretended to peruse a newspaper in front of him. “Flash. Unicorn at one o’clock. What you make of him?”
Flash glanced at him under the pretense of scanning the street outside. “Okay,” he muttered. “Number one, it’s the Moon of Frost and he’s sweating. Two, he’s been inside for a long time, judging by the ashes in that tray, and he’s still wearing his parka. Three, the skies are supposed to be clear all week and he’s holding an umbrella.”
“Aces,” Phillip nodded. “One other thing. You see how his right pocket is weighed down? How it’s still draped over him, unlike his left side?”
“Yeah,” Flash confirmed, checking him once more. “Looks like there’s...something in it? Something round?”
“Don’t stare at him, you drongo, you’ll give us away,” Phillip hissed. “Yes, there’s a roll of coins in his pocket. Gunpony’s trick; you have a gun in the waistband. Weight of coins keeps the jacket covering it and keeps it out of the way when drawing it.”
Flash glanced over at Moon Watch, who was fidgeting in his seat, glancing at his watch repeatedly. “I know I’m not supposed to jump to conclusions,” he said. “But something tells me that he’s here for Moon, and not to pay him.”
“Same,” Phillip confirmed.
“So what’s the play?” Flash asked. “I--”
But his thought was interrupted by their target suddenly rising and walking towards Moon Watch. The security guard glanced at him as he approached, then returned to his drink, fidgeting with his watch. The unicorn with the earring took a breath as he passed Flash and Phillip, one hoof gripping the umbrella by the middle.
Phillip watched the stallion as he passed, one eye on the brolly. Why the hell would he bother--?
The stallion half-paused behind Phillip, weight shifting. The blue eyes flicked to him for a moment.
It was enough warning. Phillip snapped aside, swatting the umbrella down as it speared towards his side; the blade that had sprung from the tip of the umbrella sank into the wood of the bar, missing Phillip’s leg by an inch.
Phillip’s elbow crashed into the assassin’s jaw as Flash struck him in the gut, pushing his breath from his lungs and forcing him back onto his haunches. Patrons leaped back with startled shouts, staring in disbelief.
“Stay down,” Phillip snarled to his prey, seizing his foreleg and flinging him to the ground like a rag doll; the unicorn grunted as his limb was twisted behind him, writhing in pain.
“We got him, we got him!” Flash reported into the radio that he whipped from his pocket. Within moments, Red Herring and Daring Do burst into the room.
“Out of the way, out of the way, police business,” Red ordered, drawing his weapon and hurrying over to their perp as Flash Sentry pulled out hoofcuffs. Patrons began to file out, murmuring to one another. Moon Watch stumbled out of his chair and began to scramble for the back door.
“Not so fast, buddy,” Red growled to the security guard, who immediately froze.
As Flash fastened the hoofcuffs over the assassin’s hooves, Phillip quickly patted him down for any other weapons, extracting a pistol with an enchanted suppressed barrel, which he quickly rendered safe.
Noticing the odd sheen to the earring, Phillip plucked the earring from his ear. The glamour spell promptly vanished, revealing a blue unicorn, his orange mane shading his angry golden eyes.
“Trato Perfecto,” Phillip growled.
“Not bad,” Daring commented, pulling the umbrella spear out of the bar and examining it. “Word of advice, though: next time, pick a less obvious weapon. You were asking for us to find you.”
The assassin glared at her for a moment, then sneered. “Maybe I wanted you to,” he hissed, a strange smokey emerald glow slithering into his eyes.
With a snap, the cuffs sprang open, clattering to the floor.
A red sphere blossomed from his horn and all four detectives were sent flying back: Phillip and Daring both tumbled over the bar, knocking over glasses and plates with a great clattering and sending the bartender jumping back with a scream; Flash was sent sprawling over Moon Watch while Red was thrown into a booth and smacked his head against the window.
Writhing in pain, Red glared up at his prey as the unicorn rose up onto his hind legs, the sinister smile on his face cast in red light. A tug on Red's right foreleg sent an electric jolt of fear up his spine and he grabbed his sidearm with his free hoof, resisting the magical pull on his weapon as it was nearly pulled off his foreleg.
With a roar like an enraged bull, Flash charged the unicorn, reaching for his hind legs like a linebacker trying to drop the quarterback. Trato leaped over his head, sneering as the pegasus passed beneath him.
He didn’t see Daring and Red both drawing their wings back until it was too late.
Two combined wind gusts slammed into the unicorn like a pair of wrecking balls and he was sent flying out the window, glass raining down upon him as he rolled across the street, leaving trails of blood behind him.
“Get him!” Red shouted, jumping out the window after him as the last screaming patrons fled the bar. Flash, who had rolled out of his failed tackle, dove out after him, with Daring and Phillip right on his tail.
Trato Perfecto snarled at them as he rose back to his hooves, red mist sealing his injuries.
“Hooves up!” Red ordered him, reattaching his sidearm to his foreleg and raising it.
Trato snarled and stamped the ground. Red lightning cracked across the pavement beneath his hooves and fragments of stone flew up to mold around his body, fusing onto him like a layer of black armor. He sneered at the two officers as the helmet formed around his head, shaping itself like a jagged mountainside; his glowing horn jutted out of the construction and venomous green light emerged from the deep eyeholes, smoke swirling from the dark caverns. It stomped towards them, the rocks groaning and cracking with every movement.
Flash grimaced and took a breath, raising his weapon. “Is there a plan here?”
“Same as always,” Daring replied, pulling out her whip as Phillip drew his waddy. “Shoot it until it dies.”
Trato’s horn lit up like a firework and crimson serpentine shapes blossomed from the horn, twisting in midair to form a glowing red net that flew at the four ponies.
“Look out!” Flash shouted, shoving Phillip aside, but he and Red dodged too late: the net entangled the two pegasi, sending them tumbling to the ground.
“Motherfucker!” Red snarled, struggling against his bonds.
Glowing red swords blossomed in the armored pony’s hooves and he charged like a living avalanche, roaring in fury.
Phillip threw himself out of the way, catching himself with his free hoof, his weight shifting in a cartwheel; upside-down, he beheld the armored behemoth glaring down at him as his conjured swords cut through the air.
Landing, Phillip snapped his hoof out; the foil-wrapped smoke bomb caught the sun briefly as it struck Trato in the face, the lightning trigger sparking and sending smoke billowing.
Green and red light burst from the cloud. Phillip had just enough time to draw in a breath before the living avalanche crashed through the smoke with a snarl.
“Bug--!” Phillip cried, futilely throwing up his forelegs a heartbeat before the armored form slammed into him. His hooves left the ground as his breath was thrown from his lungs; he felt his ribs cracking beneath the blow as he tumbled back, landing on the asphalt with a grunt.
“Phil!” Daring shouted, snapping her whip at their foe. The whip snapped against the stone ineffectively, earning an annoyed stare from the glowing green eyes.
A flicker of motion in the corner of Daring’s eye was all the warning she got. “Holy shit!” she gasped, ducking as the umbrella streaked past her like a torpedo, clad in a scarlet aura.
The blade missed her neck by inches; as it passed by, Daring caught sight of the strange sheen on the blade. Poisoned! Great, she grimaced to herself as the spear swooped around past her, a barracuda hunting for prey.
“These are the great detectives?” Trato snarled, slashing at Phillip with his swords, each strike missing by mere centimeters. “I expected better!”
Phillip gasped as he just barely ducked beneath another blade, which narrowly missed his neck. Fire shot up his shoulder as it caught his skin on the return, drawing a red line into his flesh. He twisted with a grunt, throwing himself into a somersault to disengage.
Something hooked around his ankle and tugged. “Gah!” Phillip cried out as the world tilted and the street raced up at his face. He caught a glimpse of the flying umbrella hooked around his leg as the asphalt struck him on the side of the face; pain and blood filled his mouth as he bit down on his tongue.
A crimson blade blocked out the sun.
“No!” three voices cried out as one.
A sonic boom cracked the air and Trato grunted as a leather cord wrapped around his limb, stilling his attack. Gunshots followed Daring’s attack and sparks danced from Trato’s armor as Red and Flash’s bullets struck him.
“Get off!” Trato snarled, his horn glowing. A serpentine shape burst from the appendage and twisted to wrap around Daring’s wings. Daring screamed as she fell out of the sky, tucking into a ball before she crashed to the ground.
Rolling back to his hooves, Phillip caught sight of the enchanted umbrella streaking back towards him. Sidestepping, he struck with his waddy, knocking the umbrella to the ground; the spell animating it dissipated into red dust.
Throwing off Daring’s whip with a grunt, Trato slashed at Phillip again as red auras yanked Red and Flash’s guns out of their hooves. As he ducked the attack, Phillip studied Trato’s armor, the rough plates of stone clinging to his flesh.
But not all his flesh.
The other blade whipped at him. Phillip snapped the umbrella open as he feigned a duck, his blinded foe snarling as his attack missed.
He caught Trato’s wrist in the hook of the umbrella and stretched the limb straight out, twisting around to pull the unicorn off-balance. He raised the waddy, the painted white faces of the wandjina raised to the gray sky, and smashed it down with a roar of “Bastard!”
His attack struck Trato’s elbow, where the armor was weakest. Bones cracked and broke and the unicorn bellowed in pain, dropping the sword.
A red beam struck Phillip like a truck and sent him sprawling back. He skidded across the asphalt as he fought to stay upright, the blistering heat fighting against the bubble of cool energy that surrounded him. He grunted and fought against the pressure, crushing him like a tidal wave; he tried to move, but it felt like trying to move through cement.
Phillip felt a warm pressure against his chest and grimaced: the ward carved into the layer of dragonscale armor was running out of power. Through the haze of the magic, he saw Trato advancing on him, his remaining sword drawn back to attack.
Swoop-CRACK!
Lightning crackled across the armored behemoth’s back and it sprawled with a grunt of pain, the lights in its eyes dimming; some of the fragments flew from its back, exposing his skin. Every head turned to face the attacker.
Her face drawn in concentration, her wings still bound by the magic rope, Daring drew back her whip once more, the leather cord hissing as it flew through the air.
Gather energy.
She felt the tingling of magic in her wings and pulled it in, stirred it in her gut like swirling clouds turning gray.
Focus will.
She took in a breath, taking in her rage, her pain, her desire to protect her friends from this bastard. She pushed the feelings down within her, mixing them with her magic, and pushed it out through her arm, down her hoof, and into the weapon. Lightning buzzed and crackled down the leather, dancing across the whip.
Channel spell.
With a yell that echoed off the walls of the block, Daring snapped her wrist. The whip uncoiled and struck Trato in his armored chest, the ear-splitting crack mixing with his scream of pain. Lightning exploded across his body and more of his armor crumbled away, revealing more of his chest and his head, his sword tumbling to the ground.
Instantly, Phillip was there, bashing at him with his waddy and his hooves as he kicked the sword out of reach. Trato backpedaled from the onslaught, desperately blocking every blow.
“Get him, Phil!” Flash cheered as he and Red continued trying to escape the net.
Trato snarled and fired another spell at Daring; the beam of magic twisted in midair and flopped to the ground as it formed into a great red serpent. It slithered towards Daring, hissing and baring its curved fangs.
Her eyes widening, Daring backed up, her heart leaping up into her throat and obstructing her rapid breath. She snapped her whip at the construct, but it dodged every blow, still advancing on her as she futilely tried to free her wings from the bindings.
Phillip jabbed at Trato, then swung at his skull with the waddy. His blow swooshed through the air as Trato ducked, and then the air was forced from Phillip’s lungs by a sledgehammer blow to the gut.
“Die!” Trato snapped, sweat running from his brow as he sent a left hook into Phillip’s jaw. Blood flew from Phillip’s lips as he staggered from the blows, stars dancing before his eyes. He dodged another swing out of luck more than skill, only to receive a foreleg to the gut, his armor the only thing saving him from more broken ribs, sending him stumbling.
Red light burned into his corneas. Phillip looked up to see Trato sneering down at him with those glowing green eyes, his horn glowing as he prepared a spell, face creased in concentration as he tried to force the magic through the appendage.
Phillip gritted his teeth, fighting through the pain, focusing only on the smooth, cold wood of the waddy in his hoof. He planted his hoof and pushed forward.
A scythe of crimson energy cut through the air. Phillip watched as if it was moving in slow motion, ducking beneath it, hissing as he felt the warmth pass over him.
Trato’s expression turned from a contemptuous sneer to shock; the horn sparked and flickered like a dying light, but it was too late.
Phillip roared out a war cry and swung for all he was worth. Thunder shook the air, mixing with a scream of agony.
Trato collapsed to the floor, his broken horn falling to the ground next to him. The emerald glow in his eyes faded away and what looked like a shadow flew from his body, dissipating into nothingness.
The net trapping Flash and Red disappeared, as did the snake construct and the rope binding Daring’s wings. Daring sighed with relief and hurried over to the others as Phillip sat down, grimacing and holding his burning ribs, pain rushing in as the adrenaline faded.
“Everypony okay?” Daring asked.
“I’m good,” Phillip nodded through a wince. “Flash?”
“We’re all right,” Flash said.
Phillip patted his vest, the warmth of the wards returning to a comfortable coolness as they recharged. “Thanks, Twilight,” he smiled.
A roar alerted them all. Trato Perfecto had staggered back to his hooves; his eyes, no longer glowing, were wide with the abandoned desperation of one with no hope. He lunged at Phillip, his hooves reaching for the earth stallion’s throat…
A gunshot pierced the air. Trato stumbled, looking down as if in disbelief at the red stain spreading across his chest. He looked up to stare openmouthed at Red Herring, who was slowly lowering his smoking .45 and reaching for his radio, his face cold.
“Dispatch, Rook Six. Ten-fifty-two at Ace in the Hole, one GSW and officer injured…”
With a groan, Trato Perfecto tumbled onto the ground, his blood slowly running out onto the asphalt.
Phillip bent down next to him, gently cradling his head. “Try to hang on,” he said. “Ambulance is on its way.”
“I’m dead anyway,” Trato grimaced through his gritted teeth, tears of both pain and fear leaking from his golden eyes. “No point.”
“Who hired you?” Phillip urged. “Come clean, mate. Who has the Rings?”
Trato Perfecto coughed, black blood running from his lips, and glared at his killers. “You have no idea what’s waiting for you,” he snarled. “What I’ve seen. What he’s capable of.”
“Who?” Phillip snarled.
Trato growled, but fear flickered in his golden eyes. “You haven’t won anything, Phillip Finder and Daring Do. He’s not finished with you.”
“But we’re finished with you,” Daring Do replied coldly.
The fear danced in Trato’s ear, slowly fading like a sunset dropping below the horizon. His body slumped over and relaxed; a final breath escaped him and Trato Perfecto was no more.
The four detectives stared down at the corpse in silence as approaching sirens sounded, the oncoming wails failing to drown out his final words.
The hooded unicorn grimaced in pain, clutching his head. Instantly the Plague Doctor was at his side, reaching out to help him up.
“I’m all right,” the master replied, shaking his head. He slowly stepped out of the salt circle, the white minerals stained red with blood. He cast a glance at the small bundle of orange hairs in the center of the circle.
“Is Trato--?” the earth pony asked hesitantly, clearly already knowing the answer.
“He wasn’t as strong as I thought,” the master stated. “And Phillip Finder and Daring Do were stronger than anticipated. We’ll need other measures to defeat them. But for now…” He glared at the earth pony. “We have other plans that you need to focus on.”
The bearded stallion nodded and adjusted his ascot. “Sí, señor.”