//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: No Fighting in the Peace Room, Part 1 // Story: Escalation 84: A Post-Nuclear Story of Humans and Ponies // by dafid25 //------------------------------// November 4th, 1984, 0700 hours General Edward Charles "Shy" Meyer United States Army Train en route to Ponyville, near White Tail woods The morning train drove past the forests as the few passengers on board were discussing something. "Mr. President, it was lucky that the reds at Vancouver...Vanhoover brought guns and vests, but what's to say this time, these ninja bug ponies don't bring RPGs or even IEDs? "General Meyer asked, sitting opposite President Reagan. "I think maybe crazed movie fans with exploding bullets should suffice for them," Carter said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Reagan leaned forward and protested, "Mr peanut, that's not even funny in the slightest, and you know it." Carter ignored that statement and returned to his seat. "Anyways, those ponies seem very confident that they can handle attacks and urged us there is no need for too many guards or Secret Service agents." General Meyer continued, "they even had the..." Elements of Harmony" to organize the entire thing." Reagan picked up the file on the desk with Celestia's signature. "Let's see here...hey, I like this one, even have the word "Shy" in her name, just like you." He said as he pointed at the pink-maned yellow pegasus. "Sir, that was more of a nickname if anything else." "Can it." The president continued to flip through the pages reading Celestia's introduction on the elements of harmony until he stopped at the page where it said: "Pinkie Pie" and the words "Party Planner" next to it. Reagan started to read from the report, "She handled a diplomatic visit with Yakyakistan, where many bad-tempered yaks live. The prince almost demolished whatever facility they were being hosted in Ponyville if he didn't like anything in the slightest. Fortunately, Pinkie Pie was able to save the day with her methods. Her parties usually include vivid colors, cupcakes, confetti, balloons, and all the other party stuff you can think of..." "I, for one, am starting to look forward to our stay there, sir." General Meyer grinned. "And I, for one, am not exactly looking forward to dancing to whatever the latest music she puts on while a disco ball shoots out flashing light beams," President Reagan sighed, "I'm too old for this." Meanwhile, as Carter is drinking his coffee, he remembered something on the reports the Princess of Friendship gave him. "Remember in the report we found out one of our missing soldier ended up in Ponyville?" "Yes," General Meyer replied, "got washed down a river and nearly got poisoned to death, good grief." "You think we should go and shake hands with him during our visit?" Carter asked. "Sure, that's good PR," Reagan spoke as he read through the file. "Can't have enough of those these days." "I am still worried about the potential threats of a changeling assassination." The general muttered, "Secret Service also seems to think so, hence the twelve bodyguards. But by the looks of it, I feel we may not even be safe if we had an entire regiment surrounding the town." "Can't argue with that. If they can pose as a mayor of a major metropolis, then there is no telling what else they can't mimic." The president looked out of the window and closed the blinds. "Let's hope it doesn't involve a Derringer or a Carcano this time," Carter said as he closed his side of the blinds. "Carter, shut it." The ex-president said nothing as he closed his eye for some much-needed rest. . . . November 4th, 1984, 1110 hours Captain Willhelm Lambert "G-0" European Intelligence Services VIP Protection Squadron Ponyville Train Station, Ponyville It was a special moment as chancellor Helmut Schmidt stepped off the train. The ponies around him cheered as he waved to the crowd. The press came rushing towards him as the agents, led by Captain Willhelm Lambert, blocked the media from going too near. "Good luck, everyone. May god be with us all." Lambert said as he stepped out of the train. Under his opaque glasses, the captain started scanning for potential threats in the crowd. Near the area where Schmidt was shaking hands with the elements of harmony and the town's mayor, there were at least a couple dozen of ponies nearby, either cheering, taking photos, or just looking. Every agent on the scene was briefed about how the fabled changelings attempted to trap and kill Soviet Army generals. All of them knew what and who they were. Every squad member reminded themselves that there would be no peace talks if the Chancellor or the General were to be shot dead. A fact that the fabled Queen Chrysalis most certainly knows if everyone else knew as well. "Just look at all these ponies..." "Agent G-4, focus." Lambert ordered, "also, speak German." As the chancellor walked further into the town, Lambert began to see this town in its full glory, the scenery was just not compatible with whatever was left of earth, and the atmosphere was welcoming. The houses are like cottages in the days old, and the roads are paved with stone instead of asphalt. However, the building, a sweets shop they are about to enter, is e different story. It looks like a giant oversized gingerbread house, with frosting on its chocolate roof and the tower shaped like a muffin. He has seen this from the briefing, but it doesn't make it any less bizarre seeing the entire thing up close. Two of the ponies, who are the owners, as stated from the intel reports, were standing outside as the element of laughter led the chancellor and the general to walk into the shop. Lambert followed in and saw another human, namely Tom Philips, Private First Class of the US army, dressed as a classical American GI, shaking hands with Schmidt. Camera flashes went off in rapid succession as this went on. "I have heard about you. Are you feeling any better, young man?" Schmidt asked in his accented English. "Ah, it's nothing. The elements of harmony are good ponies, even patched me up." The private said as the translator repeated the sentence in German to General Brandt. "Alright, kid, the American president will be here later. Stay safe." General Brandt said as he patted Tom's shoulder. "General Brandt wishes you well and reminds you the President of the United States is coming next." The translator told Tom. "Follow me! Mr. Gorbachev and the rest of his team is waiting over there!" The element of laughter leads both representatives to their tables. Suddenly, the GI in the room tapped Lambert's shoulder, "Ya speak English?" "Ja, I do. What is going on?" Lambert turned to face Tom. "Listen, I haven't got much time. You know who is the schoolhouse teacher?" "Cheerliee, right? We got briefed about this beforehand." "Saved me some time there. Now, I saw her preparing the visit from your boss just on my way here, but I remember hearing a faint gun loading from outside her window, and when I went inside, I heard something that sounded like a gun being tossed into the trash can before I entered the classroom. " "A gun?" Lambert raised his alert. "Affirmative. I didn't ask her about it to avoid raising attention." "Scheisse." Lambert muttered, "They are here." Outside Sugarcube Corner, Agent G-4 heard his earpiece blaring his captain's orders. "All units, we have possible changeling infiltrators in the area, posing as this individual..." Just great, what the fuck is it? "Cheerliee, Schoolhouse teacher, Cherry colored pony with a pink mane, have her under arrest if seen, over." "Received and Understood, out." G-4 reported. At the same time, the final guest to be arriving comes. Tom immediately stood to attention and saluted as Lambert returned to guard duty. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. President," Tom said as he shook hands with Reagan. "You holding up? How do you feel being washed down a river?" The president asked. "I'm feeling mighty fine. You have the...uh...element of kindness to thank for it." "Son, you ever considered settling down here? The place seems great to me." Carter stepped forward and shook his hand. "Correction, it's very great here, but if I am ever to settle here, I would at least need to get discharged," Tom said awkwardly as he saw General Edward walking up. "Well, good thing I am here. Do you want to get discharged right now?" The general jokingly said. "I think I will pass that for now," Tom replied, "you're a pretty good general to me." Everyone laughed at that statement. As all the guests sat at their table, Lambert was outside the Sugarcube Corner, notifying the other security teams. "We will take it from here." the officer from the Soviet delegation team replied, "thank you for your intel, comrade." The captain then said through his earpiece, "G-4, follow the soviets to capture the changeling. I will notify the chancellor about canceling the schoolhouse visit, over." . . . November 4th, 1984, 1140 hours Premier Nikolai Ivanovich Ryzhkov Sugarcube Corner, Ponyville "This is delicious. My compliments to the chef." The premier said to Pinkie Pie as he took another bite off his omelet. "Ooh! Thank you!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed, "MR AND MRS CAKE! THEY THINK IT'S DELICIOUS!" As Pinkie Pie ran off the scene, Ryzhkov turned to Carter, sitting near him at another table, "This isn't so bad after all." "I wholeheartedly agree, Premier Ryzhkov," Carter said as he picked up the sandwich on his plate. Meanwhile, a journalist asked Gorbachev, "Mr. Gorbachev, what do you think of Ponyville so far?" "It's a very charming town, comrade," the General Secretary replied, "I wish that in the future, all of humanity could enjoy such living standards, which is why we are here, to discuss the end of the war..." Akrhomeyev muttered under his breath, "I still don't feel comfortable doing this. It felt like we are monkeys in a zoo, and the ponies are the tourists." "Relax, comrade Akrhomeyev," Yazov drank his cup of coffee, "It's for the greater good of the union." "...Thank you, Mr. Gorbachev," the journalist said as Yazov put down his cup, "also, can you explain to our readers what is that big red mark like an island on your head?" Schmidt, sitting at another table, almost spat out his tea while Reagan tried to hold his laughter. "Well, comrade, you see, this is what we humans would refer to as "Birthmarks," and as its name indicates, it is there from when humans are born..." "Ponies, am I right, Comrades?" Ryzhkov said to the table. Akrhomeyev slightly shook his head and thought, this is going to be a long day. . . . November 4th, 1984, 1330 hours Chancellor Helmut Schmidt Caroulsel Boutique, Ponyville "The General is very impressed with the sets of fashion here." The translator said to Rarity. "Oh, THANK YOU, Mr. Chancellor! You have NO idea how much work went into this! For this dress, I worked night and day, day and night, to get the fabric for it right!" Rarity explained excitedly, with cameras going off at a rapid pace. "Well, have you considered making similar clothing for humans in the future?"Chancellor Schmidt asked. "I'm sure they will be selling like hotcakes." Rarity's expression somehow got even more excited, and if it weren't for two human leaders and all the press in the boutique, she would have been screaming in happiness. She calmed herself down to the best of her ability and replied, "Oh, goodness me, I would most certainly consider that! I mean, fashion is my passion, and I seek to open my eyes to multiple types..." As the conversation continued, Captain Lambert asked over his earpiece in a corner, "G-4, is the changeling captured?" "Just caught her attempting to escape." G-4 replied, "GRU sedation darts made that one short." "Return immediately, over."G-0 replied. As Lambert walked back up to the storefront, Rarity was still talking to the chancellor in an excited tone. "...also, would you like to attend the opening of my new boutique next week in Manehattan?" Rarity finished her sentence. Chancellor Schmidt smiled, then replied, "Well, unfortunately, I would be swamped rebuilding Europe by that time. However, I would like to congratulate you in advance on the successful opening of your third boutique." As Rarity introduced her fashion endlessly and the cameras kept taking pictures, Lambert returned to the corner, communicating on his earpiece about something. . . . November 4th, 1984, 1350 hours Lieutenant Igor Grigorashenko Spetsnaz GRU Basement of Ponyville schoolhouse, Ponyville. "Comrade Lieutenant, he's awake." someone in the basement reported to Grigorashenko. The lieutenant turned to the changeling that had been tied up and asked. "Alright, I am now asking for three very simple things. Where is the real Miss Cheerliee, where are your accomplices, and who took the gun." "But what if I tell you to eat shit, eh, human?" The changeling snarled, "Your worthless race will-" Grigorashenko took out his sidearm and whipped the changeling in the face with it. "Please answer my questions." He said, "don't try screaming." The other officer walked up as he screwed a black cylinder on the end of his pistol. "I forgot to mention, changeling, nobody can hear us shoot either." Igor added, "we will figure out who your friends are, one way or another." The changeling spewed, "I have been trained by Heldrec's finest. You will not-" "Ivanov, do it." A silenced shot came out of the suppressor's end, hitting the changeling's rear leg, who screamed in pain. "What did I say? Screaming will not help." Igor started to raise his voice. "Now be good and tell me, Where is the real Miss Cheerliee, where are your accomplices, and who took the gun?" "He...hehe...Cheerliee...she's still in her own basement, you peaked cap buffoons-" Igor stepped on the fresh gunshot wound, causing the changeling to scream. Ivanov reported in , "Cheerliee is in her own basement, have the law enforcement look into that." "Who are your accomplices?" Grigorashenko asked in a stern voice. "How about you tell me your name, coward? Only fucking cowards hide their names like little fillies-" "You could have just asked." Igor sarcastically smirked, "I'm Pavel Ivanovich Batov. How about that?" "Well, listen up, Batov, when the guard finds your family, they will tear their limbs off one by one-" Another whack. "My real name was nowhere close to that. That was the general my grandfather served under during the great patriotic war." "Real or not, I'm sure this Batov is just as much of a pussy as you are." Seeing the changeling still resisting interrogation, Igor devised a new plan. He sighed and stood up as he activated his walkie-talkie, "Comrades, no progress on getting the changeling to speak. How's Cheerliee?" "Law enforcement found her. She's still breathing, no injuries as it seems." The lieutenant put out a shocked face, then replied,"We will keep you updated. Out." Grigorashenko sat on the floor, defeated, then leaned against the wall. "You win, changeling." "Wh-what?" "Chancellor Schmidt has been killed." Igor sighed, "along with Comrade Gorbachev." Visible joy on the changeling's face can be seen, long and wide smile. "I knew it...finally! He did it..." "Just...before I let you go and get executed for sheer incompetence, can you tell me one thing?" The lieutenant sniffed. "Yes...human?" "Who was the changeling all along? I want to die with answers." Igor wiped his tears. "Oh, the grey pony with the brown mane following the mayor. He's the one who has the gun." The changeling said pridefully, "now, do you want to get killed by your firing squad or me?" "What's your name?" Ivanov asked. "I'm Rosi, but that is irrelevant anymore." The changeling replied, "Untie me as you pro-" "Thank you, Rosi," Grigorashenko said calmly as Ivanov raised his pistol. Rosi then let out a face of sudden realization and fear before Ivanov fired. . . . November 4th, 1984, 1345 hours President Ronald Regan Sweet Apple Acres, Ponyville "Well, I'd be damned. That's one way to harvest apples." The president said to Applejack, "I couldn't even dream of harvesting this entire orchard without at least a regiment of workers." "It's all in the buckin'," Applejack said proudly, "and hard work." Carter joined in and said, "I was also a farmer before I got into politics, peanut farmer, that is." "Certainly more successful than your presidency." Reagan took a jab at Carter. Sensing a potential argument, Applejack quickly diverted the topic, "huge shame ya didn't get to taste the zap apple jam, best-selling item here! Well, right behind our Apple Cider, that is." "Well, I assume it's also out of season for those?" General Edward asked politely. Applejack replied, "Well, ah still have a barrel in the barn. Let's go grab a mug." "Mr. President, the secret service just told us it tested negative for poison ." The general whispered to the president. "Schmidt is there right now, and the batch is safe." "Heck, why not," Reagan said to the mare, "lead the way!" "Hoo-wee!" Applejack exclaimed. They saw the European delegation team as they headed to the barn. "Schmidt! Ponyville treating you well?" Carter waved at the chancellor. "Wonderful, thanks." Schmidt replied to the former president, "it's lovely here." As the journalists kept focusing on the politicians and the cowgirl, Jürgen Brandt got close to General Edward Meyer and said, "General Meyer, we got a problem. We already found a changing infiltrator." "Why the fuck am I not surprised? Is he caught?" General Edward asked, his face hardening. Brandt whispered, "Two, actually. Spetsnaz GRU operatives managed to apprehend the one disguised as a school teacher. After interrogation, they found out the hidden one is the brown-haired clerk following the mayor." "Well, what are you waiting for? Arrest him immediately!" The American lowered his voice. "He's missing, and one of our agents just found the actual clerk. Actual one's sedated and tied up in his own house." Brandt said. "Shit...We still got 15 minutes to find that son of a bitch." "I have already sent one of the agents to check the castle in advance for changelings. The castle's lobby will be the most convenient if they want to strike." Meyer sighed, "I hope your agent can deal with this." . . . November 4th, 1984, 1405 hours Sergeant Martin Farves "G-4" European Intelligence Services VIP Protection Squadron Castle of friendship, Ponyville "Excuse me, coming through," Martin said as he made his way through the crowd of journalists, anticipating the arrival of the delegation team. He knew finding a changeling operative meant that everyone could be an assassin, and the best view to a kill, would be the second floor where the entire lobby was in sight...and range. As he ran up the flight of stairs, he checked his P7 was loaded and ready to fire. For good measure, he screwed on his suppressor. "This is G-4. I am now on the second floor of the lobby. Situation looks clear, over." He put his hand near the concealed holster as he walked into the halls. It was confusing to navigate, to say the least, as the hallways seemed repeating with the same door and wall pattern. Agent Farve, however, didn't need to look for long. "You're...Tom Philips, yes?" The agent asked, slowly approaching the GI. "Sure am. What are you doing here?" Tom asked, holding his rifle. "Security agent?" "Sergeant Martin Farves, former Gendarmerie Nationale," Martin replied, "what's with the rifle?" "You know, security sweep, wouldn't want Reagan or Gorbachev to get shot here, now would we?" Tom explained, "Now I still got my thing to do." As Tom started to walk away, Martin suddenly chased up and asked, "hey, I'm just asking, but do you happen to know who Miss Cheerliee is? We're looking for her." "Sure do. I just had tea with her before I came here. What do you want to-" As "Tom" tried to finish his sentence, he accidentally revealed a black, metallic object tucked in his shirt: a suppressed pistol. Martin did not hesitate and immediately drew his P7 from his holster, then fired it at the infiltrator, knocking the rifle out of his hands. The changeling tried to pull out the pistol tucked in his shirt, but another direct shot from Sergeant Farves rendered the gun useless. "Freeze!" As Sergeant Farves pointed his gun at the now-revealed changeling, the changeling charged onto Farves head first, knocking him and the pistol to the ground. The changeling took out a bayonet and tried to stab the agent on the floor, but after two dodges, Martin punched the infiltrator straight in the face and managed to get on his knees. "G-4, where are you? The chancellor is here!" Captain Lambert's voice came through the earpiece. Unable to answer it, Sergeant Farves kept struggling against the changeling. As Martin managed to take the bayonet and grazed the changeling's face, the changeling immediately headbutted him, causing him to lose focus. When he could react, the changeling had Martin's P7 pointed right at him. Click, the pistol didn't go off. "Wha-What? Come on!" The changeling looked at the pistol he was holding up with magic. The gun clicked multiple times but still didn't fire. And Martin came rushing at him with a bayonet, attempting to wrestle for the pistol. "Go...fuck...yourself..." Martin muttered as he was fighting for control over the pistol. The changeling held on to his pistol, and as he turned his back away from the wall, he felt something strike at his head hard, then he lost consciousness as he fell to the ground. "Hands in the fuckin' air, you son of a bitch!" The actual Tom Philips said as he pointed the rifle at the changeling. With his pistol retrieved, Martin gripped his pistol tightly and immediately fired two shots at the head of the infiltrator. Breathing heavily, he pointed his gun at Tom, asking, "Now, how do I know you are not an infiltrator, Tom Philips?" "I'm the one who reported changeling Cheerliee, and during lunch, Gorbachev had a long chat with President Regan." Tom responded, "For future reference, just call me Tom." At the same time, Lambert, who came in the back door, managed to catch up with G-4, "It's alright, that's him." "Sir!" Sergeant Farves responded, "We got him. We got the second infiltrator." Captain Lambert checked the pulse of the changeling, then turned to Tom, "You feeling alright?" "Never better, captain." Tom shook hands with him. "How are the delegation teams?" G-4 asked. "They just entered, nothing is wrong at the moment, and they will take another route to the conference room." Lambert reassured the agent, "All units, this is G-0. The second infiltrator has been eliminated, I repeat, the second infiltrator has been eliminated." Everyone let out a big sigh of relief. Then, they started to move the dead body of the changeling while Tom grabbed a piece of cloth from the conveniently close janitor's closet and started wiping the blood on the floor. -to be continued in No Fighting in The Peace Room, Part 2-