Cold Case stared at the baggie of the strange drug as Phillip finished his story, thoughtfully rolling the meerschaum pipe held beneath her teeth from one side of her mouth to the other.
“This is all very helpful,” she finally declared, looking up at Phil from across the table with her one visible eye. “Though I wish you’d brought this to me sooner.”
“You know about this drug,” Phillip deduced.
“We’ve been looking into this drug for the past few months,” Cold Case explained, taking the unlit pipe from her mouth and tapping out the nonexistent ashes into the ashtray on her desk. She stood up and walked over to a map of Equestria and related territories that had been crammed into an empty space on the wall. Blue string linked dots on the map, with photographs and shipping manifests and crime scene reports tacked up in between them, many of them overlapping each other. Pinned to the top of the map was a sheet of paper with REVELATION scrawled on it. The other agents in the office–Flash Sentry, Prowl, Bumblebee, and Tealove–all paused in their work and looked up to follow their progress.
"Revelation, as it's known on the street, is a potent hallucinogenic that's been creeping into the drug market across Equestria," Cold explained. "It's highly addictive, which means that the gangs who sell it make quite a bit off of it. The problem is, it's also unpredictable. Some takers have no effect. Some go insane and wind up in a padded cell. And some die gruesomely." She tapped a photograph of the corpse of a young stallion spread out on a table. Phillip winced at the picture; the victim was grotesquely frozen in rigor mortis, hooves held up as though fending off an unseen assailant, hind knees drawn up close to his chest. His face was frozen in a grimace of terror, bloodstained teeth exposed for all to see.
"Bit off his tongue and choked on it, poor bastard," Cold said. "But there's a common thread; some of the victims have similar visions. They talk about a sleeping monster in a temple somewhere, one that gifts them knowledge and visions." She gave Phillip a meaningful glance. "A giant, dog-like beast with another paw on its tail. Sound familiar?"
The memory of a terrible statue illuminated by his flashlight beam danced before Phillip's eyes and his stomach twisted in instinctual revulsion. "Yes."
"And that's not even the oddest part," Cold continued. "Some of the users seem to be able to see the future."
Phillip raised an eyebrow. "Dinky di?"
"Yes," Cold nodded. "Agent Sentry. Tell him about the fire."
"Ma'am," Flash said, standing up. "I noticed this detail while reviewing testimony from some of the users. One user from Fillydelphia was taken in by the local police after he caused a disturbance at a hydroelectric dam over the Delamare River, saying that there was going to be a fire and they all needed to get out. He kept saying that there'd be a fire and 'the blonde earth pony' would die if she didn't leave.
"The next day, there actually was a fire at the dam," Flash continued. "And the only victim was a blonde earth pony who was trapped in a room with the fire."
Phillip's eyebrows lowered. "Cause of fire?"
"The Fillydelphia Police and Fire Department turned the dam upside down, but there was no evidence that it was anything but an accident: an electrical fault," Flash explained. "They questioned the Revelation user for hours, but all he said was the Beast showed him that the fire would happen and he needed to see it again to learn more."
Cold tapped a photograph of a dam pinned to the map, connected to a line tracing it to Fillydelphia. "Agent Sentry reviewed other testimony and discovered that at least five other users of Revelation claimed to have visions of future incidents: a train crash in Appleloosa, a mayor's aide dying of a heart attack in Canterlot. And he further found that many of these individuals, the ones that had had these more specific visions of the...Beast, as they called it, had another connection."
Phillip's eyes went to the top of the bulletin board, to the symbol pinned to the top. A pyramid topped with an eye, flanked by two sphinxes.
"All of them had visited a local lodge or been contacted by members either right before or soon after they started using Revelation," Flash said.
"Ripper job, Flash," Phillip nodded, causing Flash to puff up, faintly glowing with pride.
"Deflate your head before you float away, Agent Sentry," Cold stated.
"Sorry, ma'am," Flash cleared his throat, shrinking back down and shooting a glare at a snickering Bumblebee.
“And that’s when the cases got kicked down to us,” Prowl commented. “As far as most ponies are concerned, it’s just a new designer drug that’s in the hooves of some pretty dangerous gangs. What most ponies are baffled by is how it even works: by all accounts, it shouldn’t, and there’s no explaining where the magic came from.”
"And half the problem is, they keep changing the bloody formula," Tealove added. "It's like whoever's making it is experimenting with it, trying to get the best formula."
“And your take?” Phillip asked.
“The method is irrelevant,” Cold Case replied. “What matters is that there is a dangerous drug making its way through Equestria. And the Knolls are connected to it.”
She stuck her pipe back into her mouth. “Agents Prowl, Bumblebee, and Sentry. Go with Phillip to the Knoll’s estate and have a look around. Talk to the Knolls themselves and ask them about Joseph.”
“Already on it, ma’am!” Flash Sentry declared, zipping up what could have passed as a casual black vest if one ignored the golden phoenix badge on the breast and the thin layer of dragonscale armor expertly sewn beneath the cloth. He secured a vambrace of thin metal to his left foreleg.
“What about Tea?” Bumblebee asked as his body was briefly surrounded by a green flame. When it cleared, the changeling had been replaced with a slightly chubby yellow earth pony with a slicked yellow and black mane.
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, love,” Tealove waved him off. “I’ve still got some paperwork to finish up ‘ere.”
Bumblebee and Prowl both donned their own vests and secured holsters to their sides before covering them up with coats. Flash was already waiting at the door, fidgeting anxiously like a dog that was eagerly waiting for its master to take them for a walk.
“Relax, Sentry,” Prowl chided him gently. “You don’t get points for being the first out the door.”
Phillip followed his escorts back up the stairs and out the doors of the RBI field office. The security officers at the front door shot a few derisive snickers at their backs; one of them sniggered to his coworkers, “Hey, look, they forgot their tinfoil hats.”
Rolling his eyes, Phillip exited out into the chill evening, shivering and lowering his head against the cold wind. Why the bloody hell is snow a thing? Should make that my next case, he pondered to himself, looking up at the last vestiges of crimson that were painting the western sky as the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon.
As he headed to his motorcycle, something crossed his mind, something that he should have remembered long ago. The Knolls' country club was in the Whitetail Woods.
Not far from the Whitetail Monastery where Daring was working.
He hopped onto his bike and kicked it to life with a sudden sense of urgency and pulled out of the lot well ahead of his companions, pushing the speed limits as he headed to the northeastern borders of Ponyville.
A hot iron rod pierced Daring’s side and she jolted awake, her scream of pain muffled by the dirty rag that had been forced into her mouth. She writhed away from the pain across the rough stone floor, squirming in the ropes that had been secured tightly around her body and wings.
“Keep still,” Leah Knoll urged, placing a hoof on Daring’s shoulder. With her other hoof, she continued tightening a set of makeshift bandages around Daring’s wing, binding her gunshot wound.
Daring glared up at her, but fatigue from her wound and blood loss was setting in and she lay back down on her side, taking deep breaths. She looked about the room.
The basement was dimly lit by only a single bulb overhead. Most of the room was taken up by boxes and other bric-a-brac that had been placed down here for storage: along one wall was a dusty wine rack with vintage bottles resting atop them.
Caballeron was lying on the floor a few feet away from them, similarly bound and gagged, green eyes blazing with fury as he glared up at the Knolls. The donkey couple were milling over them uncertainly, shooting glances at one another.
“Good, she’s awake,” a nasal voice declared. The brown pegasus reemerged and glared down at Daring Do; his face had been hastily stitched up and balls of cotton were pressed into his nostrils. He growled, then drew back his foreleg, which still had his pistol strapped to it.
Daring had just enough time to brace before the kick landed against her gut, sending fresh pain through her body. She curled up into a ball, grimacing as more kicks rained down upon her body, each blow making her stomach turn and her head spin. Caballeron started struggling furiously, targeting her assailant with a flurry of muffled curses.
"That's for breaking my nose, you bitch!" the pegasus snapped, then gave her another kick. "And that's for meddling in things that aren't your business!"
He stalked away with a frustrated huff. Daring uncurled herself, taking deep breaths to try to force down the pain and nausea.
The butler descended the stairs. "I've cleaned up and no one appears to have heard anything," he reported. He scowled at Daring and Caballeron as though they were a particularly stubborn stain on the ground. "What should we do with them?"
"Was hoping that you'd know," the pegasus grunted. "It might've been better if you'd just let them go."
"And it might've been better, Breeze Runner, if you hadn't dropped a bag of Revelation and made them suspicious in the first place," Steady Hooves scowled.
"They were going to find the other idols anyway," Breeze Runner snapped back. "That part isn't my fault!"
“Honestly, it’s probably for the best that they found them,” Steady stated, pacing in a small circle. “We weren’t getting anywhere with just the one idol and watching the Monastery…especially not after you let your son scarper with it,” he added bitterly to Joseph.
“Now, look here, Steady Hooves!” Joseph Knoll protested, standing up straighter. “We took you in out of the goodness of our hearts and you abuse us like–”
“Oh, stuff it, you old, shallow jackass!” Steady Hooves barked. Joseph Knoll’s expression of outrage flickered as he quailed beneath his own butler’s anger.
“You barely even knew what that idol truly was–you dug it up by accident building this club and thought it was just a fun trinket to put on your wall! Have our sessions shown you nothing about what you were facing?! The majesty at the tips of your hooves?!"
Joseph Knoll backed away, his courage failing him entirely. Leah walked up and laid a hoof on her butler’s shoulder, giving him an imploring look. Steady Hooves glared at her for a moment, then sighed.
“Right,” Steady said in a calmer tone. “They have three of the idols, which means they knew where to find two, which presumably means that they know what they’re for.” He leaned down to face Caballeron. “You could just make this easier for all of us and tell us about it, you know,” he mused.
“¡Chupela!” Caballeron snarled through his gag.
Steady Hooves cocked his head to one side, then turned and looked at Daring. “You know, you seem to care por tu novia an awful lot,” he mused. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want her to get hurt. ¿Comprende, amigo?”
Caballeron’s eyes flicked to Daring Do, concern fighting with the defiance on his face. Daring shook her head firmly. There wouldn’t be any point: now that they’d seen these goons’ faces and knew their names, there was little chance they were going to let them live.
From far up above, the doorbell rang out, prompting everypony to look up. “Who would that be?” Leah asked aloud.
“At this hour? Probably the police,” Jeremiah answered nervously. “Someone might have heard that gunshot.” He gave Steady Hooves a brief glower.
“I’ll deal with them,” the butler replied. He took a moment to adjust his suit and brush himself off, then hustled up the steps, disappearing from view.
“What do you smell?” Phillip Finder asked Bumblebee as they stood at the door of the Knoll’s mansion.
Bumblebee, still in his guise as a normal earth pony, leaned his head back slightly and sniffed the air. “Lots of mixed emotions,” he said quietly. “Lots of anger and fear, though…” He sniffed, then shuddered. “Something bad’s going on here.”
“Eyes and ears, boys,” Prowl said from behind the group, her ears flicking back and forth as she scanned the growing shadows of the grounds. Flash Sentry shifted nervously beside her, just behind Phillip.
Hoofsteps sounded from within the mansion and the door squeaked open, allowing a uniformed butler to poke his head out. “Good evening. May I help you?” he asked, his face creasing into a well-crafted professional moue as he cast his critical eye over the four.
“Hi,” Bumblebee smiled at him. “Special Agent Bumblebee with the RBI. These are my colleagues, Prowl, Sentry, and Finder. We had some questions for Mister and Missus Knoll.”
The butler sniffed in distaste. “Mister and Missus Knoll are unavailable at this time,” he declared. “And they certainly would not speak to law enforcement without the presence of their attorney. Good night.”
The butler started to close the door again when Prowl stepped forward and blocked the door with a foreleg. “We heard a report that there was a gunshot here,” she stated.
The butler glared back at her. “There are no firearms in this household, Agent,” he said coldly. “What that caller may have heard was a large piece of furniture that fell over. If you’ll excuse me.” He closed the door with some force.
“What now?” Flash asked as they retreated from the door.
“Look around,” Phillip said. “Wanker’s lying.”
“Darn right: I could smell the lie coming off him,” Bumblebee frowned.
“Butler also had residue on his cuff. Using a gun with a bad seal,” Phillip added, leading the way around the building.
“Oh. Didn’t see that,” Flash admitted as they followed him.
“You saw. Didn’t observe,” Phillip chided him. “Need more practice.”
They reached the backyard of the mansion, a stretch of well-tended grass leading up to the ranks of the forest. Phillip and Prowl both took out flashlights, switched them onto a low setting, and began to sweep the area.
“Look,” Bumblebee said, pointing. “The handle on the back door has been broken recently.”
“Guys,” Prowl hissed, crouching down to the ground. Her flashlight illuminated a trail of dark red splotches marring the grass.
“Blood,” she reported, gently touching the thumb of her wing to the stain. It came away damp. “Fresh.”
Phillip backtracked the trail of blood into the edge of the woods, leaves crunching beneath his hooves as he scanned the area with his flashlight; his breath came in sharp, rapid hisses, every exhalation condensing before his face.
Flattened and crushed twigs and leaves before his face told him the story of a struggle. The teardrop-shaped red streaks painted on the leaves and grass informed him that the loser had been dragged back toward the house.
Something gold caught his eye. He crouched down and pushed aside a bush. His flashlight revealed two golden pegasus feathers, stained with red.
Phillip’s stomach clenched and a thunderous growl rumbled in his throat. He turned back towards the house, drawing his pistol from his pistol as he crunched forward.
“Hold up, Finder,” Prowl snapped, blocking his path. “We do this by the numbers.” She raised a hoof to her ear. “Prowl to Central. Blood and signs of a struggle at Twenty-Seven Knoll Street. Entering building.” She and the other agents all drew their sidearms. “Sentry, take point.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Flash Sentry nodded, taking a deep breath and raising his left foreleg with the vambrace. “Paratus,” he declared.
With a sharp clicking, a black square metal shield unfurled from the vambrace. The thick metal was inscribed with magical wards, the intricate designs flickering faintly with stored power. RBI was painted across the shield in stark white.
Raising the shield before him, Flash Sentry proceeded to the back door, the other agents behind him. He took up position at the door, gun raised as the other three stacked up on the wall to the right, Phillip at the back.
Flash and Prowl nodded to each other, then Prowl reached out and tested the fractured door, finding it to be unlocked. She pulled it open, eliciting a squeak of protest. Flash swept to the left to check the hallway. “Clear,” he declared and entered, with the others tiphoofing up behind him.
“Blood on the threshold leads that way,” Phillip said, pointing ahead.
Bumblebee sniffed the air again. “I smell a lot of fear and anger from below,” he whispered.
Prowl opened up her mouth and exhaled noiselessly, her ears wiggling. “There’s a set of stairs down the hall. Two doors down on the right.”
They proceeded ahead, with Flash and Prowl quickly and quietly sweeping the two rooms that they passed, a dining room and a sitting room.
Phillip lingered in the living room for a moment, his eyes scanning the area instinctively. The scent of fresh cleaner stung his nostrils and he spotted damp patches on the carpet and on the rumpled couch. Looking over to the trophy wall, he noticed the conspicuous blank space on the shelf, with the faint circular space.
A piece of the puzzle suddenly fell into place and he growled again as he followed the agents.
Prowl signaled a halt at the top of the basement stairs. “Voices from down there,” she reported, her ears pointed down the wide steps to where a wooden door was waiting.
The voices did indeed become louder as they slowly and cautiously descended the steps and stacked up at the door once again. Prowl pressed her ear against the door, listening intently.
“Six ponies,” she whispered. “Two on the floor…hostages. Two ponies with guns standing over them: one at 11, one at 2. Two other ponies, unarmed, farther back.”
“–should just get rid of them,” one voice was saying from within. “Take ‘em out to the reservoir–”
“Is…is that really necessary?” a tremulous voice asked, barely audible. “There’s no reason to–”
“No reason, Jeremiah?” the butler’s voice snapped back. “They’ve seen our faces! They know what we’ve done! There’s no room for soft-heartedness here. In fact, maybe I should show–”
“Shit,” Prowl hissed, trying the handle and finding that it was locked. “Sentry, the door!”
“I’m behind,” Phillip declared as Flash approached the door and pressed the shield against it.
“Ruptura!” Flash shouted.
The shield let out a hum, a high note that was held for a few heartbeats, and then the door shattered with a thunderclap, flying apart into harmless debris as Phillip and the agents burst into the room.
Time slowed for Phillip, his hoof already traveling back towards his back pocket. Daring Do and Caballeron lay on the floor, bound and gagged. A brown pegasus stood over Daring, his pistol still aimed at her, turning towards the door with an expression of shock. The butler was whirling about, moving his gun from Caballeron to the intruders. Behind them all, a pair of donkeys in rich clothing were diving for cover behind the furniture.
“Lumen!” Flash shouted.
The sun suddenly rose within the basement, a blaring white light blazing from one of the wards on the shield. The two gunponies roared in agony and reeled back, clutching their eyes.
Phillip’s hoof seized the boomerang and drew it out in an instinctual movement that he’d practiced a thousand times. A snap of his hoof sent the weapon spinning through the air with a whistling, still seemingly moving in slow motion to his eyes.
The boomerang struck the brown pegasus on the foreleg, knocking the gun away from Daring and the agents. As soon as the weapon was away, Daring drew her bound hind legs up and kicked her assailant in the chest, sending him flying back with an “Urf!”
The boomerang continued its arc around and made for the butler…and missed as, by some twist of fortune or some dark instinct, the unicorn ducked. His squinting, hate-filled eyes focused on the nearest target and the gun slowly came up, hoof already pressing down on the trigger. Phillip crouched down, hind legs ready to spring at his target.
Two deafening explosions echoed through the basement.
The butler stumbled back, slumping against the wall, his expression going from fury to mild shock in a moment. “Oh, damn,” he mumbled and slid to the floor, painting the stone bright red. His final breath rattled out of him as he fell.
Phillip was frozen for a moment, then looked around, time starting to reassert its normal flow. Flash Sentry was standing next to him, shield still held up, smoke rising from the barrel of his .44 Colt; his eyes were wide and his trembling body heaved with every breath.
Bumblebee was cuffing the brown pegasus, who was coughing and wheezing on the ground. Prowl was approaching the back of the basement. “You two! Come out with your hooves in plain sight!”
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” the jenny cried as the couple stumbled out from behind their cover and sat down, forelegs raised.
Giving the body of the butler a brief glance, Phillip bent down and cut the struggling Caballeron free, tugging his gag out of his mouth.
“I’m fine! Help her!” Caballeron snapped.
Phillip cut Daring Do loose, his eyes taking over the crude bandages on her wing and the bruises and cuts over her body. “Flash. Get an ambulance,” he ordered.
“R-right,” Flash stammered, folding his shield back up and holstering his pistol. “S-Sentry to Central. Need an ambulance and backup at my location. Two wounded, three suspects in custody, one suspect down…”
Daring gave Phillip a weary but genuine smile as he pulled her gag off. “So what’s a PI like you doing in a basement like this?” she asked as he started to redo the bandages around her wing.
“Feel like it’s a story as long as yours,” Phillip replied, a strange relief rushing through his body at her words.