It took a while to track down the mysterious mare who seemed to be Caricature’s boss. Rapier took her name—or at least the name Redheart had gotten from the hotel clerk—to his Captain. In a couple of days, he came back with news.
Redheart had been staying in her apartment, not turning the lights on, not making any noise. By now, the ponies at the hospital were probably going nuts about her disappearance.
Rapier tapped on the door, using the prearranged knock they’d discussed. A couple of others had come by looking for her, and she’d ignored them.
“Good news,” said the stallion as he came in. He had a few groceries that Redheart hadn’t been able to go and buy for herself. “She wants to meet with you.”
“Really? Where?”
“To make things easy, just use the address you got from the hotel.” Rapier shrugged. “I have to say, I’m a little surprised this came together so quickly. I don’t know who this mare is, but Captain Armor seemed to think she was somepony important.”
“You’re coming with me, right?” asked Redheart.
“That’s right, but I’m supposed to stay outside.” He laughed. “Oh well, I meet plenty of VIPs already. I probably wouldn’t recognize somepony famous who works in the sneaky business anyway.”
Rapier showed her train tickets that had been provided. The meeting would be the next evening.
“So what have you been doing to kill time?” he asked.
Redheart showed him her needlepoint work. “It’s a gift for a friend’s birthday. If it’s not too much trouble, do I have to stay dead? I’d hate to miss it.”
“Well, maybe after this meeting, we’ll see. I doubt you’ll have to keep hiding forever.”
+
Redheart approached the house’s front door. The sun was almost down, and she could see the glow of the moon on the horizon, patiently waiting its turn to rise. She knocked.
The door opened, revealing the yellow mare named Ms. Fromage she had seen before. The pony nodded and stepped back to let Redheart in. She indicated the coffee table in the living room and the two of them sat.
There were few personal touches in the room. No photographs and no evidence of hobbies. Redheart suspected that the house wasn’t actually lived in, and only used for meetings such as this.
“Are you armed?” asked the pony.
The question had come out of the blue, but Redheart answered it truthfully. “I have a medical scalpel in my pocket.”
“Not the best weapon for self defense.” That was true. A scalpel did not make a great weapon. The blade was relatively small and easy to damage. It was not good for stabbing, only carefully performed slices.
“It was all I could lay a hoof to.” Redheart grinned suddenly. “It’s not razor-sharp; it’s sharper. The obsidian ones cleave down to just a couple of molecules thick, but I prefer a good stainless steel blade. They’re less brittle and easier to replace.”
The yellow pony looked amused. “Very well. It’s a shame that a civilian such as yourself feels vulnerable, but that is unfortunately what this situation has come to. I have to offer you my apologies for letting things come to this.”
Redheart wasn’t sure if she should offer consolation, a sort of, “Oh, it can’t be your fault,” type of statement. Perhaps it had been her fault, however, so the nurse said nothing.
“With Caricature gone, we’re going to need a new head of the section he ran,” said the other mare. She sighed. “Actually, we’re going to need a whole new section. It looks like you are about the only pony under him who isn’t dead or injured.”
Redheart pulled down the bandage on the side of her neck. “He came within a few cups of killing me, too.”
She got a distasteful look in return. “I heard about that.”
“From Dominator?” asked Redheart.
The pony appeared to consider a question for a moment and then nodded. “I know you’ve been very curious about that.”
“It’s something that just kept coming up.” Redheart shrugged.
“I suppose we should talk about what we’re going to do with you now.” Ms. Fromage crossed her hooves. “We can use your skills.”
“As a nurse? Or did you mean something else?”
The other mare laid a manila folder on the table. It was labeled Dominator and was much thicker than the one Caricature had carried. “This is what you want to know. It’s everything about Dominator. I’m willing to let you in on it. I’d like to work with somepony like you.”
Redheart considered the folder. Saying that having a look at the contents was tempting was like saying Baked Bads caused food poisoning. She knew that once she opened the cover, there was no going back. She would know everything about Dominator—how all those ponies had been killed and who had helped her when she was struggling to free herself.
Several long seconds passed. Redheart reached out towards the folder and slowly pushed it back across the table. “I’m sorry. There are things that are more important to me than knowing that."
Ms. Fromage appeared to be somewhat disappointed, but looked at Redheart as if seeing her a different way than before. “I understand.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered at the offer, it’s just that I had my taste of this secret agent stuff, and it’s just not me. I want to do something else with my life. In fact, I think I owe my life to Dominator. Just...say thank you for me.”
The other mare raised her eyebrows. “I can do that."
The two of them were silent for a moment. Redheart made a move to get up. “I suppose I should go figure out what I should be doing with the rest of my life.”
Ms. Fromage stopped her. “Perhaps medical school?”
+
Redheart returned to her place late that night. She paused for a moment outside the building. A casual observer would have noticed her idly touching the thin necklace she wore. The nurse tucked it back inside the neck of her sweatshirt and went into the building.
She got out her key and unlocked the apartment door. After stepping inside, she turned on the lights. Caricature stood in the center of the room.
Redheart backed up against the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I needed a place to lay low for a while. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that somepony was still living here.”
“Don’t come any closer,” she warned.
As if mocking her, Caricature took a step forward. “Didn’t I teach you anything about the business? All those times I showed up unannounced—didn’t you learn not to blunder into places?” He chuckled.
Redheart stared at him. “You just did.”
Realization washed over the stallion in a long moment. Caricature’s face hardened with rage and he charged. Redheart met his attack with one of her own. She slammed a hoof into his chest, right over the bandage that covered the wound that she’d stitched. The stallion gasped in pain, the cry turning to fear as he saw Redheart draw a weapon. The burnished steel blade of her scalpel slit his throat as easily as a sheet of paper.
She stepped aside as Caricature fell. Blood had already begun to spread across the floor. Redheart put a hoof on the back of his neck and leaned close to the stallion’s ear. “It’s a powerful thing, holding somepony’s life in your hooves. How does it feel to be on the other side of that?”
Caricature could only gurgle in response. Redheart went on. “As much as you probably don’t deserve it, my special talent is saving lives. I’ll make sure that you live to see punishment for what you’ve done.”
She began to damp the blood flowing from Caricature’s deep, but not quite fatal, wound with her sweatshirt. She needed a new one anyway. The door opened and Rapier came in. His eyes swept over the scene. “You got him. Everything worked out like it was supposed to.”
Redheart shrugged. “Well, maybe he got a little more hurt than I intended.”
Rapier nodded in agreement. “If I ever end up in the hospital, remind me never to piss off my nurse.”
Author note: I had a lot of fun in the creation of this story. I should point out that if you read my other stuff, you might have a theory about Dominator. It's whatever you want it to be, okay? Don't think too hard about it. Thanks for reading.