The Black Cello Mafia
Chapter 5: The Fall: Part 2
Octavia ducked behind another line of chairs as more gun fire whizzed past her head. She had taken out four police ponies, got cut by a grazing bullet at her cheek, and her mane was becoming completely messy. The police grew ever closer to controlling the current situation with a massive toll on the mafia's count, with only five members left and at least double that for the police forces. Octavia blindly fired two bullets from her magnum over the chair she slumped behind, one hitting her target she could tell by the sound of a body hitting the floor. All of the windows had been busted by a mafia member with a large pump shotgun, blasting two cops out with the glass, a stray pellet wounding another. He was quickly shot down after his attempt to turn the tides of the battle. Now laying next to his dead body, Octavia seized the shotgun in her hooves and brought it to her chest. The Thompson was running out of bullets and Octavia needed another weapon. Throwing the Thompson's trigger guard around her hoof, she peeked around the corner and spotted a sole mare in uniform, aiming at whoever was behind her. She was crouched behind the opposite side of the cellist's cover, not being able to see she was there.
Octavia brought the machine gun up and shot the last three bullets through her neck and jaw, peels of skin flying off as she went down. Acting fast, she dropped the gun and picked up the shotgun, cocking the pump and blasting away a confused stallion in uniform. Blood splattered the ceiling as Octavia fired and fired again, taking down two more officers. The remaining members of the mafia took this chance and hastily took out the rest of the police. After a moment of looking about the aftermath, Octavia noticed her fellow members staring at her. Three stallions and two mares stood before her, breathing exasperatedly from the raging adrenaline pumping through their veins.
Noticing her self breathing heavily, she sat down for a moment, still looking at the ponies in front of her.
"What?" She asked, peering into the quiet earth ponies.
They all shared a glance before the red furred mare spoke up. "What do we do know, ma'm?"
Growing confused, Octavia looked down at her self and the floor, blood dripping from her suit. She let the empty shotgun fall to the floor with a loud clatter. She couldn't tell if she was shot or if it was the gushed out matter from her former enemies. She understood that these ponies oddly enough, looked up to her as some sort of leader. She did rank above them, but she really never gave orders before. Dust landed on her head as another explosion rocked the floor above her.
Looking to the speechless ponies in front of her, she commanded. "Well? You here the explosion, the gun fire! Go help the battle!"
They all scurried at the order, some running through the hole in the wall and the rest running through the exit. Octavia looked out of the demolished windows as her breath slowed, her body slowing with it. Wind whipped at her clothing and hair, sending the smells of the city up through her nose. She dreamed of being back on the streets, happily walking along after had waking up on a weekday morning, spending her living moments to take in the scenery and appreciate the slow crawl of time. This was not the case and she realized when more explosions sounded out. The battle seemed to escalate to her, and she responded by standing up and leaving the battered room and out of the door. Stepping out into the hallway, she found two elevators staring her in the face. These were not the same as before as she watched the left elevators floor counter rise higher and stopping at thirty.
Someone else is going to Filthy. Realizing, she called the right lift and waited for the doors to open, going over the possibilities of who it was. Punching thirty one she had stepped in, she stopped thinking and pulled the hammer on Apple Bucker, ready for what was about to come.
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Applejack and Pinkie Pie assessed the situation from the lobby of the office building, looking over the destroyed elevators and the mass of bodies.
"No way we can get in through here." Applejack said, poking at a dead cop.
Pinkie kept looking around, the cigarettes smoke trail following her head rotation.
"I've got an idea. Follow me." Pinkie said, walking back out of the lobby. Police carriages cluttered the curb, count quickly by twos Pinkie could tell that they were in the dozens, each carrying at least four per vehicle. Applejack soon came out but stopped behind the pink mare. Looking back at her, she rose an eyebrow.
"Wait...do you hear that?" She asked, looking up at the sky.
Pinkie flexed her ears to find the noise Applejack pointed out, and soon found it. A different siren sounded out around the air, a loud uproar of three different tones, a distinctive tone separate from normal police vehicles.
"Tactical enforcement." Pinkie said, looking back at Applejack who nodded.
Pinkie told Applejack to hurry, turning around the building and moving at a fast trot now. Over the side, she found what she was looking for and begun to climb.
"A fire escape?" The apple pony sounded out from the ground. Pinkie looked down at her.
"Yeah, well you did it to get into my house. Now come on or you'll be lit up by the pigs in armor."
Shrugging, she begun to follow. Pinkie stopped at the seventh floor to see the great metal carriages turn into the parking area of the building, massive amounts of large stallions in black metal wielding militia grade weapons came tunneling out of the back doors of the carriages. She saw machine guns, shotguns, grenades, anything ultra damaging towards flesh.
"Shit, this means it's spiraled out of control." Applejack had reached the pink mare, causing her to turn her head in surprise of a voice. Looking back down to watch, she took the grounds of the situation.
"It's fallen out of the police's hooves and into the government's. We have to hurry." She finished, climbing up the stairs and the orange pony pursuing her.
Applejack grunted behind pinkie as they neared the top. "After the next five floors, climb into the window there. It's Filthy's office window. No doubt we'll want to be there."
The pink mare nodded and resumed her ascension. Reaching the clearing of the 30th floor, the two mares shared a glance before Pinkie threw the window open and filed in. Papers were strewed everywhere in a mess, coupled with a knocked over drink table, split alcohol, and blood trailing around in a pool. From in front of the desk, Pinkie could see the top of a pony's head; or at least what was left of it. Dragging her gaze from the crater of brains, skull fragments and blood, the southern mare and ex-party pony saw the remaining ponies alive. A single mare with a messy black mane with blood spotting her fur and suit, holding up a revolver to the second pony. A charcoal black pegasus stallion with brown hair, looking aloof down the barrel of the gun currently shoved into his face.
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Octavia bucked the door to Filthy's office down, turning back round to come in. Vexing her mind, the room was completely silent among the cascading sounds of war below her. It was almost deafening to not hear anything exploding, shooting, or yelling around her. Though it seemed as though nothing had happened for the past hour to the room, still completely the same as it was when she left. Not even Filthy sat behind the desk, not a single soul.
Walking behind the desk, she picked up the melting scotch on the rocks and gave it a swig, the corroding liquid burning her throat as it washed down the massive calamity she had endured. The mess that filthy had made on his desk was gone as well, cleaned away some where...or shredded that no evidence would be found.
Octavia checked the drawers for confirmation, and the assumption rang true. Nothing was inside of them. Slamming the last drawer closed, she heard hoof steps thunder out in the hall. Ducking inside of the desk she waited until it was time to strike who ever was coming. Confused, a twin set of hooves reached her ears, rising stakes even more. Finally the hoof step stopped as they had reached the broken down door.
"What the hell happened here?" The familiar voice of Nero whispered.
Something had slumped on the desk and pushed Octavia forward, almost butting the revolver held in her hoof. Stroking back the loose strand of mane, she flexed her ears to listen.
"I don't know." A firm but unconvincing voice of Filthy Rich answered.
Small rustling came from one of them, followed by the clattering of metal hitting the floor. A chuckle from Nero made Filthy flinch slightly, jerking the desk.
"Well, Filthy...this is what I came for you know. The end of this SHIT MAFIA! Truly, I knew the consequences of what would come from my rise to power, but..." Nero sighed against the trailed sentence, followed by the cocking of a shotgun pump.
"Who could resist the power of the Unicorns?" Nero finished, pulling the trigger of his shotgun and splattering the blood and brain matter in front of Octavia, blowing out the window in the process. The blood had fallen to the floor, instantly staining the blue carpet under her hooves.
A snort from Nero made Octavia tense up with anticipation.
"Come on out, Octi dear...you're my last task."
Octavia bucked the office chair away from the desk opening, causing the stallion to pump his empty shell and blast the top half of the chair to bits. Openly laughing, he cocked his weapon again.
"I could do this all day."
Octavia stormed her brain for a quick plan out of the situation. A heads on attack would leave me in pieces, but I have nothing to distract him with, nor can I dodge an entire shotgun blast.
Octavia's train of thought was derailed as liquid dripped down on her face, trailing around the brim of the edge of the desk. Looking up, she put up her hoof to catch a drip of it. A large drop splashed her hoof, licking it she found it was the scotch. It had been spilled among the commotion. Soon the glass dropped and bumped her leg and fell perfectly onto the carpet with a decent amount of alcohol still within it. The simple idea came to her, and she readied herself to follow through with it.
The glass twirled in the air, catching the sunbeams in it's transparency and ran a solitary bar around the room, As she had planned, Nero worked on tense and tired nerves to aim up at the distraction and pull his trigger, while Octavia spun around the side of her cover to fire. The stallion's face twisted in pain as the bullet tore through his bottom left leg, but he still blasted the glass. Sharp shards rained down on to the floor like tiny daggers, some innocently fell to the floor, while others found their way into Nero's still pained face.
Octavia saw her chance and leapt over the desk, slamming her hoof down onto Nero's cranium. Dropping to the ground, the mare cautiously looked to the dead body of her former boss, catching the site of the completely dismantled face of a pony she once knew, the top hemisphere still beating and sending blood over the jagged edges of skull over them like a waterfall, and burned it in her memory forever.
In a lighting fast motion, she fired at the sound of a hoof step on the broken door, watching with regret as she watched the Commissioner, Red Dawn, fall to the floor. She had shot him in the chest, no doubt the lungs had either been grazed by her bullet or completely ripped out from the area of impact.
Slowly walking to the coughing stallion in front of her, Octavia strangely feared what would happen in effect to this action. Standing over him, she watched as he painfully turned his head to stare with his deadening eyes at her. His tongue worked around the blood that had accumulated in his mouth to speak.
"The Unicorns...they are in an alliance with the Pegasi..." Each pause gave way to a spurt of blood from his bullet wound, and caused blood to trickle our of his mouth and down his grimy face. His beard began to soak up the crimson liquid, giving the grey streaks an unnatural color.
Octavia shook her head, unable to speak. But Red Dawn continued.
"We have no Idea why...Octavia, find Twilight and take her to Canterlot...I normally wouldn't trust a criminal but...you're the last person I can actually trust now..." Red's voice had deteriorated and began to dwindle to a whisper under the stress of a collapsed lung.
"Ironic, Isn't it?" And with that, he gave one final sputter of blood before his spasming body relaxed and slunk down on the door.
A hoof came into Octavia's vision, kicking away the body of the police Commissioner out into the hall. Jumping up, Octavia backed away to watch a shaky and bloody Nero turn around to stare into Octavia's startled face. She stopped backing up as she felt blood seep around her bottom hooves, not daring to look back at the nightmarish scene of Filthy Rich.
Nero was sporting a wicked smile as he slunk towards Octavia, the ends of his mouth twitching crazily with the intense muscle strain. Octavia pulled up the revolver still placed on her hoof, aiming slightly up at the pegasus to compensate for height. The end of the barrel pressed up against the the narrow section in between his eyes as he continued to look down upon Octavia with a penetrating stare.
Everything was silent and completely lost to Octavia in the situation but the three words Nero spoke to break the sadistic smile warping his face.
"Pull...the...trigger."