“Do you have to bandage the human?” asked Shale Press with disgust and indifference. “He’d very much suffice without it.”
The timid yellow colt shakily answered as he continued to roll a reel of medical tape around Alistair’s bruised shoulder.
“W-Well ma’am, the Director gave us specific orders to ensure a one-hundred percent safe processing of the sapient at all times. This includes health concerns.”
“It would do fine without us licking its wounds,” she spat, “a little gangrene never hurt anypony.”
She got up from her kitchen chair and moved over to the windows. Quickly peering through the wispy shades, she made sure that no pony was watching them through the cover of darkness. In her line of work, preparedness was a key factor in success and she’d had quite enough unexpected occurrences foiling her plans. Brushing the shades away, she turned back to the colt.
“Where’s the rest of your group? I didn’t get to have a word with them as we carried this loathsome sack of unconscious meat back here.” She gestured her hoof to the sleeping Alistair as he lay on her sofa, undisturbed to the environment around him.
The colt uncapped a bottle antiseptic with its mouth and began to dab Alistair’s facial cuts as he responded. “They’re probably back at out provisional headquarters, resting up and preparing for what comes next in the plan.”
Shale folded her hooves. “And where precisely is this headquarters?”
“Rooms 304 to 306 at the Whispering Oaks motel, its right next to the bowling alley.”
She shook her head disdainfully. “A bit foolish having all of your rooms in one vicinity, you attract unwanted attention. You should have considered different motels or at least separated rooms.”
The colt sighed as he injected a syringe full of antibiotics into Alistair’s wrist. “Yeah well, we got here just the other night and plan on leaving just as soon. We aren’t particularly prepping any long term operations in this ditch.”
She glared at him. “Watch your tone, boy. If you haven’t learned your place in this organization yet then I’ll be happy to instruct it to you.”
The colt looked down sheepishly. “Yes ma’am.”
Peering over at the digital clock she kept on the counter, Shale nodded to herself. Quickly trotting over to the entrance to her bedroom, she called once more to the colt.
“I must speak with the Director at once. Do you think you can handle the human by yourself?”
He nodded strongly.
“Good. There’s a syringe full of sleeping potion next to the microwave. If you even suspect that it’s waking up, inject the serum as quickly as possible before it realizes what’s going on. Think you can handle it?”
He nodded once more.
Slipping into her darkened room, she briskly pushed aside her white fold away closet and stepped in. Bumping her way past the few hanging clothes she had in the closet, she felt around for the hollow white wall in the back. Tapping her hooves thrice against its surface, the wall hermetically hissed open.
Stepping into the hexagonal chamber, she impatiently walked over to the mirror that sat in the center of the room. Standing instead of kneeling, she tapped her hoof expectantly against the plate metal floor, her urgency taking away any formality the meetings were supposed to have.
Slowly, the reflection of the mirror began to shimmer with a white fog, replacing the picture of the room with a completely different image. The face of the Director slowly materialized into focus, his orange fur and mirrored glasses being clearly seen through the dodgy connection. This time he looked intently through the glass, his normal patronizing attitude gone.
“Agent Press, why are you contacting me at this hour? You should be traveling to HQ at this very moment as we discussed earlier.”
Shale straightened her legs together as she responded. “Something came up, sir. Developments in the capture of the human to be precise.”
He impatiently waved with his hoof. “Yes-yes, Agents seven to seventeen should have intercepted it by now, I already know this.”
“No sir, something else involving that,” she smiled in anticipation of what she was about to say. “The aforementioned agents were unsuccessful in subduing the human, every one of them were defeated in direct combat with the target.”
“What!?” yelled the Director. “How could that be!? Those were eleven well-trained agents with heavy combat experience. Two of them are in the Royal Guard for crying out loud!”
Shale shrugged. “It seems he was more then what our intelligence suggested. Observations can never account for everything.”
The Director restlessly rubbed the top of his forehead. “And did it get away…again? Do we have to send in a bloody army just to tie down a single creature with rope?”
She grinned even more, trying very hard not to look proud. “Actually, Director, once the human had easily dispatched the pursuing agents, it was I who was finally able to subdue the little whelp.”
“Really?’ he said as he raised an eyebrow. “You? After you tried and failed twice, you finally were able to succeed on your third go?”
Shale nodded her head. “I can understand that you question my abilities, but covert liquidations were never my specialty to begin with.”
He shook his head. “And do you have any proof that you accomplished this seemingly impossible task?”
“Yes, this.” She held up her right foreleg to the mirror, fully showing the burned fur and skin where Alistair had grabbed her with his electric palms. The wound still stung, no amount of ointment or bandages seeming to quell the sharp and ringing pain. She had specifically gone against treating the wound immediately, knowing that it would be a solid piece of evidence for her case.
“Hmmmmm,” acknowledged the Director, “it seems that you have convinced me Shale Press, not only of your story but also of abilities. I should’ve never doubted your talents despite the minor hiccups you faced. Good job.”
She smiled happily. “Thank you sir.”
He put his hoof up to stop her. “Let’s not celebrate too early, there’s still work to be done. The matter of transporting the human comes next and this part may prove to be the most difficult.”
“What have you arranged?”
The Director looked around on his side of the mirror, searching for something that was in his mysterious quarters. Sighing to himself, he looked back at Shale. “I can’t seem to find the diagram I set up earlier so I’ll just describe it to you:”
“At nine o’clock tonight a passenger train will be coming into station there in Ponyville. It will be empty. You and the other agents shall board the train while inconspicuously placing the human inside the cargo hold. Remember to fully seal it inside the supplied shipping crate that agent twelve has about him.”
“After half-a-day’s journey, the engineer will mysteriously stop in an isolated location within a mile radius of HQ. You will remove the human, still in the shipping crate, and transport him manually to the base’s loading dock. To give you cover, half of the group will spilt off into a separate group while the other group shall be with the package. If asked by a civilian, your cover story is that you are an archeology team searching for Discord-era relics in the forest and the crate you are carrying is the excavation equipment. Any questions?”
Shale raised her hoof. “Just one sir…what are we going to do with the human once we reach HQ.”
The Director smiled, his mirrored lenses reflecting Shale’s queried face. “You leave that to me. Director out.”