//------------------------------//
// Scene 4 
// Story: Equestrian Underground 
// by Krysto 
//------------------------------//

Having abandoned the bustling marketplaces of Ponyville's center, the pair of stallions found themselves at the steps of the town records building. The old-style marble construction loomed before them, decorated with intricate reliefs of pony scribes and historians of amazing quality. Atop the stark white steps, in front of the ornate wooden doors stood a pair of unmoving, unflinching stallion guards, their manes cut back into identical slicked up mohawks. Any casual observer would clearly be turned off by their fearsome appearance which in short summed itself up in two words: keep out.
“Awfully tight security for a public building, don't you think Flash?”
“Agreed, and worse still, I fail to imagine any possible reason as to why.” Flash responded dismally.
“Perhaps if we avoid eye contact they won't notice us.” Quick responded with a hint of sarcasm.
“Yes, a pair of stallions, dusty from their near death experiences in the public market will look perfectly normal ascending the steps of a records building. We'll fit right in, Quick.”
Without a proper response, Quick began his ascent with Flash a short distance behind him. He braced himself mentally for the inevitable confrontation to come, nearing the guards whose apparent purpose was solely to halt their progress. He loomed ever closer and could feel their gaze boring into him. Steeling his nerves, Quick made the final step and stood before the great wooden doors. He took a deep breath. Quick placed his forehoof on the gleaming metal handle and paused.
Nothing.
Quick nervously swung his head from side to side, his eyes darting between the two guards, a thick tension in the air.
Still nothing.
“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going inside mister?”
The gruff voice of the left guard suddenly snapped Quick back into reality once more. Realizing that he wasn't about to be mauled in a two-on-one brawl, he took decided not to take his fortune for granted and pushed aside the doors, now surprisingly quite a lot smaller than he initially remembered, and stepped into the main lobby.
Flash quickly caught up and stood beside Quick in front of the main desk.
“You weren't about to simply leave me to those two guards were you?”
“No, no. I figured that if you got in over your head I'd be there to bail you out.”
“Or run for your life?”
“Oh please, Quick, have a little faith in me, just this once.”
Remembering the task at hand, Quick made his way to the front desk.
“Excuse me ma'am, but might you know where we could find the catalog of archived newspapers?”
The secretary looked up from her paperwork and stared at Quick from over a pair of half-moon spectacles. Her voice was dry and monotonous.
“I'm sorry sir-”
“Sirs” corrected Flash.
“Yes, well I'm sorry, sirs, but the newspaper archives are currently off-limits to visitors.”
“I thought this was a public building, how could records be off-limits?” Quick responded swiftly.
The secretary paused for a moment and looked about in seemingly random directions.
“We've been having issues with visitors stealing articles for their personal collections.” She replied with a hint of uncertainty in her voice, perhaps, as Quick noted, with an even slighter hint of fear; of what he couldn't identify.
“Ma'am, I don't think you understand. Me and my friend would very much like to know where to find the archived newspapers. Now could you please help us locate them.”
A warm glow came over Quick's horn once again and the secretary stared back almost lost for words.
“I apologize again, sir, but the rear wing has been locked off by my superiors. I don't have the key.”
“Very well, Ma'am. It would do well if you forgot we were here today. Wouldn't do to have anyone looking for us, now would it?”
There was no response to the secretary, who stared back as blankly as before.
“Let's go, Flash, there's nothing more for us here.”
Flash was almost as lost for words as the stupefied secretary.
“But aren't going to try to get into the rear wing or something?”
“No, no. I think we have all that we needed for the moment.”
This statement puzzled Flash, but he knew better than to argue with Quick.
“Where to now then? If we're giving up on our hunt for incriminating evidence, what then should we do?”
Quick was already descending the marble steps. He stopped and turned his head towards Flash and the two guards that stood guarding the doorway.
“We're done for today. Now let's find ourselves a room for the night and turn in.”
This response left Flash even more confused than before.
Of course, 
With a small puff of purple flame, a tightly bundled scroll marked with the EU official seal dropped from the space just above Quick's head. He calmly took hold of the scroll in midair and unraveled it pensively before him. Quick pored over the text wordlessly, leaving a dumbfounded Flash to only wonder what was going on.
“Ok, Quick, can you let back in the loop here or something?” He asked at last, finally being fed up with Quick's silence.
“This, my friend, is a private letter from Singe, EU's official maildragon.”
“Maildragon?”
“Twilight Sparkle isn't the only pony in Equestria with a maildragon you know. They're not common but they are highly reliable. She tracked us to within an inch of our actual location.” He paused for a moment, then immediately added “and before you ask, yes, I was expecting this.”
“So then what does it say? If this is word from on high, it must certainly be important, right?”
“Well, for starters, it's not good news. EU's chief-in-staff caught wind of our exploits and she's not happy. Says, and I quote, that we're on a 'wild goose chase' which can only end in 'a significant waste of time and resources'. This coming from the very pony who hunted down the lost tribe of zebras that had supposedly discovered the secret to everlasting life. Referring to this project, which could very well rewrite perhaps not only the entire history of Ponyville, but all of Equestria, as a waste of time. Well that's a serious implication, Flash” Quick let out with a heaving sigh.
“Well, Quick, what if she's right? I mean, we've been at this all day and we have no solid evidence at all. So far all we have to back up the story is a small collection of rumors and suspicions with no real founding. What's the motive? Why would such a thing exist in such a peaceful town?”
“You don't get it, Flash, this is my life's work. If you fail out of this project, you can always go record films with somepony else; you're good at what you do, but if I fail out of this project, I'm done. This is, or was, my last chance, and that was my final warning. For me, this is all or nothing. My reputation is on the line. I'm balancing on being either a respectable and notorious reporter or a complete flop who can only scrounge up blurry photos and half-baked plots.”
An awkward silence ensued causing Flash to eye the ground with uncertainty. He had heard of Quick before and had secretly looked up to him as being the model of success. Ending up his camerapony was not sheer luck or chance, but a pursuit worthy of the most devoted of fans, though he would never admit this. He had tried to hard to keep Quick from knowing his true feelings, but at this point, he wondered if he had tried  too hard. Any secret worth keeping is never obvious he had said, but this secret wasn't that important, was it? Quick had finally started to show the cracks in his confidence. Flash finally broke the silence.
“Alright, alright. Suppose you're on to something. Let's look at this from a new perspective. You're the reporter here; you have experience with this stuff. How do we build the foundation for a credible case here?”

Flash's sudden change of heart left Quick thinking for a moment. He was right, this entire case stood on an unstable foundation of feeble evidence. They had to build a solid argument with real and supportable evidence if they were to continue this project.
“Ok, you're right. We need to rethink this case” Quick admitted half-heartedly, “if we want to so much as start this case, we need to work at it from the right angles. Normally for a conspiracy theory to be validated you need a few key details. First, you need a motive. Why would anypony or any ponies want to build a criminal organization from the ground up? What possible gain is there? From a motive we can find actions that pursue this motive. Any organization this large has to leave hoofprints behind somewhere. We need evidence that somepony somewhere has done something to somepony else and once we find that we can link it all back together. Once we put together enough of these little actions here and there we can link them all together. And when that's all said and done, we make one final stab, Flash. We go right for the core of this Applecore and we find the pony behind all this.”
This sudden surge of confidence left Quick gasping for air and Flash contemplating what would come next. Before he could formulate a response, Quick started again.
“So if we want evidence, we need to get to those archived news reports. We need time, and seclusion and clearly somepony doesn't want us to do that. So you tell me, Flash. How do we get in that room with nopony else noticing?”
Quick finished this last question with his trademark smirk, a look that meant trouble for anypony even thinking of getting in his way. Flash had already caught on to his plans.
“So, Quick, you lead the way. Just let me know when and where this is happening.”
“I think you already know, Flash. Right here. As for when, I suppose this plan leaves us a few hours to kill. Care to help me find a place to stay for the night?”
“Gladly.”
Both stallions continued on their way, making a point to avoid the writhing masses of marketgoers, who at this point were beginning to look far from friendly at this point. Quick's natural suspicions of everypony was beginning to wear on the pair, and even Flash's nerves were beginning to fray. Here and there a casual observer would smile at them as they passed by, a common occurrence twisted by their minds into a deadly threat. Did this little town in the heart of Equestria really hide one of the land's deadliest crime syndicates? Could something so wicked even exist in the first place? At this point, Flash wasn't sure anymore. Perhaps somepony out there really was out for their hides. Maybe they were no longer the ones hunting, but rather the ones being hunted.
Quick's excursion led them past the marketplace and through some of the calmer sectors of the city. All along the way, the two decided to take their minds off the situation by pointing out famous Ponyville destinations and plans to enjoy themselves if they were ever here casually instead of on business. Flash suggested grabbing some sweets from the local delicatessen, Sugarcube Corner, but was quickly shot down by Quick who reminded him how easy it is to poison a cake when they weren't looking. Even offering to settle for something not freshly baked left Quick easily pointing out every potential and fatal flaw in that plan.
As their journey continued, the crowds quickly thinned out and the buildings subsided into cottages. The cobblestone roads dissolved into dirt paths, and the entire city-aura about Ponyville made way for the rural setting of its outskirts. Here Quick stopped at a small inn boasting the views from their rooms and their competitive rates.
“This looks perfect, Flash. It's so far out of the way, nopony would ever suspect a pair of city-journalists would make this their rest stop.”
Flash wondered just how cautious Quick was willing to be at their expense, but thought better of it.
The inn was surprisingly roomier on the inside than it appeared, and the rooms reflected the rural style, being lit by lanterns hung on the walls and having beds composed of little more than a wooden frame, a pile of hay, and a thin blanket.
A one-up from sleeping on the floor, thought Flash.
“Alright, Flash. I think it's about time we,” Quick paused for a forced chuckle, “hit the hay.”
“Gee, you're so funny, Quick. Bet it took you an hour to think that one up.”
“No, but it took me quite a lot more time to plan this all out, so we'd better do it right the first time.”
“Speaking of plans, you spent the whole way here specifically not telling me what we're doing, so I suppose now would be the best time to do so. Sunset is only about an hour away, you know.”
“Ok, ok, but let's keep this quiet unless their listening.” Quick replied, suddenly shifting to a hoarse whisper.
“If we want to get into that sealed-off room, we're going to need to break in the old-fashioned way: by cover of darkness. As far as anypony is concerned, we're staying here in this old inn, and we're going to keep them thinking that until we get back. Once we get in the archives, we're going to gather all the articles we need, you're going to photograph all the important pages, and then we're getting out of there as quickly as possible. All in all, we should be able to get back before sunrise. This gives us a solid eight hours of total darkness at the minimum.”
“You know, as illegal as it sounds, this might actually be crazy enough to work, assuming this place actually has what we need.”
“Of course the information is there, Flash. Why else would they guard it?”
“I don't know, but for the same reason, why wouldn't they simply destroy it instead?”
“That's a good question to which I don't have a good answer, Flash. Destroying public records would be easy, but I suppose, if we're lucky, they never thought to do that.”
“This could easily be an elaborate trap, Quick, and I'm not usually the one to hold your suspicions, but this sounds like it might be too good of a plan.”
“Well it's the only one we have, and it will have to do. At this point, we either get what we need or fail miserably, not help me stuff these covers.”
The setup was simple, yet effective and believable. A lantern, carefully positioned in the front of the room cast shadows of both beds on the curtains on the far wall.  To any outside observer looking in, the beds were seemingly filled by two tired stallions resting after a long trip, but in fact contained nothing more than some bunched up piles of hay and some other odds and ends found in the room.
Quick and Flash slid out the rear window, past the drawn curtains which so cleverly gave away their false positions, and stole across the fields behind the inn back towards the town which, as far as Quick was concerned, was out to kill them.