It was remarkably not that difficult to locate Mr. Wright. Sure, some time and effort was involved, but really that was just contacting local motels and asking if the various clerks remembered a surprise British guest.
“Well, yes ma’am, he did sound a bit like you,” said the person Rarity was speaking to. While Morgan had classified her accent as “pretentious mid-atlantic,” everyone agreed that Rarity did sound rather more posh than the average American.
The telephone was fairly simple to use, although after being exposed to the internet and firearms, merely being able to convey one’s voice over long distances did not impress Rarity much.
After acquiring Mr. Wright’s room number, the plan was set into motion. They would enter the city covertly and watch for him. Once he was confirmed to be alone in his room, then came the hard part: a snatch and grab.
“But what if he’s armed?” asked Rarity.
“So will we,” answered Bear. “Covertly, of course. No sense in stirring up bystanders if we can help it.”
“How are we supposed to get through a locked door?” Rarity pressed.
“Kick it,” said Jenny, shrugging.
Veronica thought for a moment. “Rarity, I know that using magic might help them locate you here at the cabin, but do you think you might be able to use it to breach the motel door?”
Everyone else was suddenly also deep in thought. Rarity didn’t like what she was seeing. “Darling, I’m not good with force. In case you hadn’t noticed, small precise jobs are much more my talent. What’s wrong with picking the lock?”
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” said Morgan, “but I want to see the unicorn kick down a fucking door.”
There was a general murmur of agreement. Rarity rolled her eyes. “Tell me what I need to do.”
“Should be easy,” said Rob. “Hit the door near the handle with your foot, but figure out how to do it with magic.”
“Don’t I get some practice?”
“You can’t use magic here or they’ll find us.”
Plans made, the decision was put forth to begin the next day. Lying in bed that night, Rarity did some counting and realized that she was only about a third of the way through the month. And I’m already doing operations. “Black” ops, even.
She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Apprehensive certainly, but proud that they trusted her or scared that her life was still in danger? After contemplating it, Rarity decided that there was no reason she couldn’t feel both. That didn’t make sleeping easier.
The next day, preparations were made for the kidnapping of Mr. Wright. Rarity had to adjust her wardrobe somewhat. The mission would be carried out in civilian clothes with concealed weapons. She was reluctant to subject nicer, flimsier garments to the rigors of whatever the task required, but agreed that it was probably for the best.
Rarity also managed to quickly fashion a different style of holster for carrying a firearm concealed. A copy of a magazine called Guns and Ammo had been found inside the cabin, and she used it to get an idea of possible appearances. The inside-the-waistband version looked uncomfortable, so she stitched the leather into a compact design that rode on her belt, snug to her hip. A loose blouse was able to conceal the gun without much trouble. The weight was a concern, but Rarity decided that for surveillance purposes she would probably be sitting a lot and that at least one side should be comfortable.
The six of them got into the vehicle and headed for the city of Battleground. There was not much to do except set up at various locations in the area and wait. Photographs of Mr. Wright had been obtained, and Rarity studied them carefully as she sat with Veronica in a small café across the street from the motel.
Coffee had never been Rarity’s favorite beverage, but her companion promised not to be judgmental over several spoonfuls of sugar and liberal amounts of creamer. If they were going to sit there all day, the caffeine boost might be needed.
Fortunately, it did not turn out to be that long of a wait, but still long enough. The waitress was not pleased to have rented out a table for a few hours just to keep topping up two cups of coffee, but Veronica left enough money to compensate.
The two of them casually walked out of the café as Mr. Wright parked a car in the motel lot. Veronica tapped out a text message to the others if they hadn’t seen.
“I’ve always wondered,” murmured Rarity. “What’s the difference between a hotel and motel?”
“I think motels have the room doors on the outside and hotels have them on the inside.” Veronica scanned the area and began to cross the street with Rarity tagging along. “It’s probably lucky we got the former. That way, we don’t have to deal with desk clerks or elevators or anything. This is supposed to be just a quick in and out.”
Rarity caught a glimpse of Bear and Rob coming their way from the opposite direction. Jenny and Morgan pulled up in the SUV. They all converged on the motel room that had been rented to Mr. Wright. Bear nodded to Rarity. Nervously, she stepped forward and took a slow practice kick to line up. She drew a deep breath to steady her nerves, and then booted the door off its hinges in a shower of blue sparks.
Bear and Jenny were first through the door, but both of them stopped dead before getting very far, taking gagging breaths and unable to advance. Some sort of haze hung in the air, separating them from Mr. Wright.
“Freeze motherfucker!” shouted Morgan. He didn’t seem to be affected by the air quality, but as he tossed out his magic-imbued length of chain, Mr. Wright batted it away and shoved him into a wall.
Rob’s face was aghast, clearly from receiving an unexpected shock. If the psychic was surprised, then clearly things were not going well. He was knocked aside similarly to Morgan, falling into Veronica.
Rarity had watched the whole event unfold from outside the room. Mr. Wright clearly had training in advanced unarmed combat. More troubling was how he had been unaffected by Morgan’s magic, evaded a mind reader, and how a werewolf and vampire had been kept at bay.
Adding all that up, Rarity decided that there was only one course of action that hadn’t been tried yet. She yanked out her gun and pointed it at Mr. Wright just as he turned to see who was still a threat to him.
The shot was not a very good one. Rarity would later claim that she was under a lot of stress, which was true. The bullet did, however, lodge in Mr. Wright’s upper leg, dropping him to the floor.
While he was distracted, everyone escaped. It was not a particularly proud moment, but a retreat in one piece beat the possibility of adding the underestimation that had already been made. Somehow, Mr. Wright had been able to oppose everything—magic, stray thoughts, and supernatural creatures. The one thing he hadn’t counted on was a former pony with a handgun.
Unfortunately, that proved to be only a minor setback as well. The six of them hadn’t gone very far in the time it took Mr. Wright to awkwardly crawl to his car and begin driving with his good foot. Morgan, who was keeping an eye out the back window of the SUV, ripped off his most impressive string of profanity to date. It rather lacked enunciation, but got the point across.
The car chase that ensued was something Rarity did not hope to repeat ever again. Already untrusting of vehicles, being thrown around inside one on twisting roads while battling pursuit left an even more negative impression. It somehow got worse when Morgan grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her into the rear cargo area.
“Are you crazy?” demanded Rarity.
He shoved a grenade into her hands. “No. You’re just the only one who can make certain that this takes out his car.”
With the delay fuse on the explosive, the movement of both vehicles, and the winding road, Rarity could see how it would be difficult to make the weapon effective if it was just tossed out.
She hesitated a moment, but pulled the pin and dropped the grenade out the open window, slowing its travel until it bounced beneath the car. Mr. Wright tried to swerve but that only aided the car’s momentum toward the roadside as the grenade blew off one tire and sent the vehicle out of control.
Rarity watched as the car flipped over and crashed to a halt in the ditch She wanted to be sorry about it, but the shock of doing something so awe-inspiring made it difficult to know how exactly to feel.
Morgan clapped her on the shoulder. “Nice job. You’re a real badass now.”
She really wasn’t sure how to feel about that.