The pain pulled Flash from unconsciousness and he stirred with a moan. Darkness met his gaze; the metal surface pressing against his side was cold and unforgiving.
Flash started to sit up, only to grunt in pain as his already aching head smacked against something hard. It was then that he felt the harsh cord wrapped around his hooves and the duct tape over his mouth.
The memories came flooding back: driving home from work. A motorist flagging him down, saying he needed help getting the engine to start. Bending over the open hood. Something striking him in the back of the head...
Panic flooded through his heart and he began struggling fiercely, trying to scream through his gag, kicking the roof of the trunk he was locked in.
It refused to give. Flash was trapped. No one was coming. No one knew where he was.
He tried to stem the tide of the memories, but they flooded forward, overwhelming him: the sight, the smell, the feeling of the fire against his skin…
“Scream for me, pig,” Tinderspark snarled, the lighter dancing across his chest. She giggled out of her horribly deformed mouth as he flinched away from the heat, chest heaving as he panted through his nostrils, mumbling in terror through the tape across his mouth.
Flash tried to pull away, but the ropes securing his hooves to the overhead plank refused to yield, creaking and groaning as he struggled. His wings strained against the ropes, desperate to give him escape but failing. Tinderspark laughed; the lighter flame cast her burns and melted skin into horrible light and shadow.
“Yeah, that’s it,” she grinned, licking her chops. “We’re gonna be having bacon and pork tonight.” And she thrust the lighter forward into his chest, right over his heart.
Pain radiated across his muscles and skin, burrowing down into the bone, tunneling to his frantically beating heart. He closed his eyes, a scream racing up from his lungs through his throat, and he let it out, hoping, begging that somepony would hear, would help him, but the tape muffled it. No one was coming. No one would come.
The lighter was removed, but the pain remained, as strong as before, and he sagged in the bonds, panting and gasping through his gag, fighting a desperate battle against tears.
“There it is,” Tinderspark giggled like a schoolfilly, circling around him. “It’s okay, pig, let it out…”
Flash shook his head, grasping control of his runaway breathing and heart, forcing them to slow. Panic would not save him. He had to slow down and think.
He closed his eyes and began to pray. The same prayer that had carried him through his father’s death, through his mother struggling with her blindness after the accident, through the academy and his early months on the force, and through the abduction.
Mother, you are my shepherd; I shall not want, he thought to himself, blocking out everything but his words, but the light in his chest that he pictured growing with every word. You lay me down in green pastures, and guide me to the still waters. You lead me down the path of Your righteousness and strength and restore my soul. Though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death…
“I shall fear no evil,” he whispered, the words muffled by the gag, weakened by the pain as he dangled in the ropes, but he kept the prayer going. “For You are with me; Your hoof in mine comforts me…”
“Praying?” Tinderspark snorted. “None of your gods can save you now, pig.”
She thrust the lighter into his back again, and once more pain raced across his nerves, skin and bones screaming in agony. He shuddered and shook in his bonds, breath catching, but kept the prayer going.
“You lay...for me...a table in...the presence...of my enemies,” he gasped out, slamming his eyes shut to block the tears.
“Scream, dammit!” Tinderspark snarled, pressing the lighter against his back.
The pain intensified and his muscles shook and convulsed in a desperate bid to escape the fires, and he gasped out the rest of the prayer even as the agony tore at his consciousness. “You...crown...my head...with...oil...my...cup...runneth...over…”
“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Tinderspark snarled, throwing the lighter down like a child flinging down a broken toy. She stormed off down the dark hallway, grumbling to herself.
The pain continued to radiate across his body, but Flash forced himself to breathe slowly, steadily. Inhale slow, pray on the exhale. “Surely mercy and goodness...shall flow over me...all the days of my life...and I shall dwell...with my Mother...forever and ever…”
“Amen,” Flash whispered, taking a deep breath and opening his eyes.
Right. Make a plan.
Flash tested his bonds. Coarse rope, tightly bound. He wasn't getting those loose any time soon.
Maybe he could open the trunk. He reached out, running his hoof along the metal surface. He followed the curve down towards the bottom of the lid; maybe if he could find the trunk release cable, he could pull it and open the trunk.
No dice. A growl escaped his gag.
His hooves found the locking mechanism, but without any tools, he had no chance of opening it himself.
Flash's eyes were starting to adjust to the dark of the trunk. He spotted the brake lights, wires running to the metal contacts. Getting an idea, Flash squirmed around and grabbed the wires of the closest light, yanking them out with a brief flash. After some more wriggling and grunting, he lined up his hind hooves with the brake light.
He lashed out with a sharp kick at the light. Pain ran up his legs at the impact; the thump made his pounding head ring with pain. But the light was nearly pushed out of the frame.
Flash wound up and kicked the light again. With a crack, the brake light tumbled out of the frame, crashing against the concrete floor.
Huffing and sweating from exertion, Flash wriggled around to peek out the hole. Outside, the world was shades of gray, lit by flickering orange lights. The scent of oil and exhaust assailed his nostrils. A parking garage.
Flash stuck a bound hoof out of the hole and began to wave. His heart throbbed in his chest, every beat exacerbating the pain echoing through his skull.
It was okay. Somepony would see him. Phil and Daring were coming...they'd find him...they'd find him...
"And once they go inside to get him out of there, we follow them," Star Cluster said, staring out the grime-streaked windows at the parking garage. "Swarm the entance, mow 'em down, and beat it before backup arrives."
He grinned around at his fellow Disciples standing in the empty, mold-eaten room of the abandoned tenement building across from their target building, yellowed windows looking down on the street beneath them. Among the ten other Disciples, he counted two sniper rifles, a cluster of assault rifles and a pair of shotguns, accompanied by his own Thrussian-made machine gun.
"You sure that this is enough guns, boss?" one of the snipers, a blue-gray thestral, asked, studying his weapon.
"Well, you can never be too sure," Star Cluster admitted.
Every head turned towards the door at the sound of hoofsteps.
No, not hoofsteps. Claws scratching on wood. And the rattle of metal.
"Which is why I called for help," Star smiled.
The door burst open and a black griffon with a green headband stormed through, glaring at Star cluster with shining yellow eyes. A single griffon with tattoos running down both arms wielding an assault rifle of his own accompanied him.
“The fuck did you do, Shit Cluster?” Roaring snarled, striding up to the unicorn and seizing him by the neck with a claw, eliciting a startled sputter.
There came a chorus of clicking gun mechanisms as barrels were raised and triggers prepared. “Claws off the boss!” one of the watching Disciples, a tall pegasus wearing aviator sunglasses, barked, holding his Desert Griffon sideways at Roaring’s head.
Roaring barely looked up, but his tail darted to one of his cutlasses. There was a blur of silvery motion, then the snick of a sword returning to its sheath. The pegasus in the sunglasses stumbled back.
A moment later, his glasses snapped in half and fell to the ground. The Disciple stared down in shock, his surprise increasing when he noticed a few drops of blood falling down atop his ruined accessory. Several of the surrounding thugs backed up like ripples in the pond.
Cluster swallowed. “Listen, this is how we’re gonna kill Finder and Do,” he explained. “We got the plan from Zugzwang and—”
“You got the plan from Zugzwang?!” Roaring bellowed, squeezing tighter. “Din jävla idiot!”
“It just appeared in front of me this morning!” Cluster cried. “I couldn’t resist, I just thought…” He swallowed. “Look, Finder and Do are gonna be on their way. When they get here, we need you and your guys to help us kill them! They—”
“You had to call us,” Roaring said slowly, undoing his grip. “To take care of two ponies. Because that Gerwhin horunge told you to kidnap that fittnylle.” He scowled around at all of them; every Disciple in the room stared silently back. “And you already have these morons with you.” He took in a breath.
“You’re scared of them,” he snorted. “You’re scared of two ponies who are older than most of you.”
“We’ve tried to kill them before. You’ve tried to kill them before,” Cluster snapped back, rubbing his neck. “And they always come out of it unscathed.”
“Because of dumb luck!” Roaring shouted, one claw going for the pistol on his holster. “Luck, that’s all it was!”
“So let’s make sure that we get lucky this time,” Star Cluster replied. “The more of us, the more likely that one of us gets ‘em.”
Roaring growled at him, but his companion strode up and laid a claw on the first mate's shoulder. Roaring glanced at his companion, then took a breath and relaxed.
"Fine," he growled. "Let's see how this works."
"Okay, boys and girls," Star grinned. "Let's get into position!"
Every Disciple crouched down next to the windows, drawing back bolts and clicking off safeties. The pirate started to take up position next to them, but Roaring pulled him back aside to whisper.
“You make sure that the security crew is watching her?” Roaring hissed to him.
“Yes, sir,” the other griffon replied. “That’s what the ring’s for: if they’re in trouble, they’ll activate theirs and it’ll start to get hot.”
Roaring let out a low rumble in his throat, lifting his right foreleg. The small ring with the orange gem winked back at him. “We’re risking everything for this,” he said quietly, barely audible over the other noise. “Even if we kill Finder and Do, if I lose her…”
“We won’t, sir,” the other griffon replied. “They’ll keep her safe. She’s one of us, after all.”
“No, she’s not,” Roaring replied. “That was the whole point of sending her away.”
Roaring shook his head and sighed. "Take your position, son. Let me know when they're coming." His talon went to the hilt of his sword, pulling the blade from the scabbard slightly. "Tonight, Daring Do dies by my claws."
It took Daring twenty minutes to find Flash’s motorcycle, parked by the side of a bend in Blacktail Street. It sat in the shade of a copse of oak trees, bags of groceries still sitting untouched in the sidecar, the helmet hanging from the handlebars.
"Twilight, need you to focus," Phillip said to the unicorn mare that was currently pacing in a circle next to him. Traffic passed by on the street behind them, directed around them by Sergeant MacWillard and Officer Wheellock.
"I am focused!" Twilight snapped back. "The more time we waste, the more time Star Cluster has to hurt Flash! He might be being tortured right now! Or he might already be dead and in the Maresippi with a concrete block around his ne--"
Her rant was cut off when a stream of cold water spilled onto her head. Twilight sputtered and shook her damp mane out, looking up to glare at Daring Do, who was holding a cloud over her.
"Are we calm now?" Daring deadpanned, discarding the cloud.
Twilight glared at her, but the water dripping off her mane didn't hide the tears running from her eyes. Phillip placed a hoof on her shoulder and pulled her closer.
"We're gonna find him," he reassured her.
Twilight stared up at him, then sniffled and nodded, using a spell to dry out her mane. The three turned to the other detectives examining the scene.
Trace and Red were standing next to Flash's bike, crouching down and holding a tracking wand over the ground. Tracks shone in a golden glow on the asphalt, several different tire marks overlapping with one another.
“Okay, here we go,” Trace said, pointing to a set of motorcycle tracks leading up the road then pulling over to the side. “Flash is coming up the road and pulls over to the side for some reason.” He indicated some hoofprints walking off the bike towards another set of hoofprints that stood next to a pair of tire tracks parked along the side of the road.
“Looks like he was tricked into pulling over by somepony feigning car trouble,” Trace stated, pointing to a silhouette of a pony on the ground next to the tracks. “The other pony hit him over the head and pulled him into the car
“The kid always had a bigger heart than a brain,” Red commented quietly, shaking his head.
Phillip crouched down next to the tracks, glaring at the ground where Flash had fallen, then observing the hoofprints of the pony who had taken Flash, the scum who had—he shook his head. Had to be impersonal, no matter how hard it hurt. It was just another case.
“Close to three-foot eleven, judging by gait,” he grunted, then turned his attention to the tire tracks. “Greasedust brand tires. Going by the wheelbase, turning diameter…”
“Skymouth D7, I’d guess,” Trace replied.
"Trace, over here," Red called, standing next to a light pole that the abductor's car had bumped into. "Green paint on this scrape here."
"A green Skymouth D7," Trace nodded. "That might be good enough to call it in."
Trace trotted back to his waiting Commander and grasped the radio in his hoof, calling in a BOLO.
Twilight hustled forward and grasped Flash's helmet in her magic, turning it over. "What are you doing?" Daring asked.
"Yes!" Twilight cheered, pulling some strands of blue hair from inside the helmet. "I can use these!"
With a flash of her magic, she summoned a street map of Ponyville and a packet of salt. She laid the map down on the ground and formed a circle with the salt, drawing runes around it. She placed the hairs in the circle, then closed her eyes and took in a slow breath, her horn pulsing rhythmically as she cast the tracking spell. The salt began to glow with the same purple light and slowly lifted off the map of Ponyville.
“Quearite. Sequor. Indago,” Twilight chanted, a tremble in her voice. “Quearite. Sequor. Indago..."
The salt glowed the same purple color as Twilight's horn, lifting off the map and swirling in a small circle...then settling down on a spot on the map.
"Yes! Yes!" Twilight cheered. "He's at the parking garage on Seventeeth!"
No sooner had those words left her mouth than Daring snatched up Phillip, who barely managed to slam his trilby down onto his head as he was carried through the air. Beneath him, he saw Trace and Red diving into the Commander, with Twilight leaping into their backseat. The car peeled out with a blaring of sirens and lights, with Wheellock and MacWillard's cruiser speeding after them.
"Seventeeth Street?" Phillip said out loud. "Not far from here."
"Good for us!" Daring replied as she swooped around an office building.
The parking garage appeared before them, a three-story concrete block that sat in the midst of a shopping district. Daring circled the building, then landed atop the roof.
Phillip scanned the few cars parked atop the roof, but there were no green Skymouth D7s parked there. With a nod to Daring, he sprinted to the ramp and headed down. Beneath them, they heard the sirens and screeching tires as the Commander and the cruiser entered the garage from the bottom floor.
The two ran through the second floor, but there was no sign of their target vehicle. As they reached the ramp to the first floor, they heard a shout from beneath.
"We found him!" Trace called up. "He's okay!"
Relief flooded Phillip's veins and he hurried down the ramp, turning the corner to spot the green Skymouth D7 parked in a darkened corner of the garage, the trunk open and a brake lamp laying broken on the ground next to it. The others were gathered around the vehicle.
Flash was being pulled from the trunk by Twilight, who was quickly undoing his bonds with her magic. "Ow!" Flash yelped as the duct tape covering his mouth was yanked away.
"Are you okay?!" Twilight cried, looking him over frantically. "Did they hurt you?!"
"Just bumped me on the head," Flash said, being his head to allow Twilight to study the wound. "Honestly, I think my ego's hurt more."
Daring frowned at the scene before her. The abduction car had been taken from the site and taken to a parking garage mere minutes away. Parked in a corner of a dark, enclosed place, with the hostage left unharmed within.
Hoofsteps echoed off the concrete walls. Daring whirled around just in time to see the frag grenade streaking through the air towards them.