"Passengers, just wanna let you know we are about an hour out of Manehatten, and looks like a smooth trip all the way there. But as you can see out your nearest window, the weather is not going to be so cooperative, so might wanna keep your umbrellas hoofy. That's all for now, but we'll keep you posted, and once again, thanks for joining us on the inaugural journey of the Trans-Equestrian High-Speed Railway."
Looking outside, Mayor Mare could only agree with the conductor; the pouring rain showed no signs of letting up. Every bolt of lightning lit up a small cloud of white droplets around it before reflecting off the river, creating an even larger, longer streak of light. Visually impressive as it might have been, it would be much less pleasant when she finally had to step out of the train. Though of course, she thought to herself, she was lucky to be on the train in the first place. The TEHSR didn't even pass through Ponyville; she only got her ticket for this trip due to Celestia's profuse sense of guilt for all the trouble the Elements of Harmony seemed to bring with them.
Mayor Mare couldn't see it, but a half-dozen black-and-purple shadows were descending on the train, matching its incredible speed.
"Mares and gentlecolts, this is the conductor, we've just been conta-"
The intercom suddenly went dead. This drew the attention of all passengers aboard, whose ears were further aroused by two shortly-ensuing, massive claps of thunder. The main overhead lighting followed the way of the intercom, leading to a brief moment of panicked darkness until the magic-based emergency lights kicked in and bathed the floor in red.
Mayor Mare couldn't hear it, but under those two thunderclaps, two shaped charges of plastic explosives had been detonated, ripping her train car loose of its fellows in front and back.
Now concerns were starting to be raised. Two stewardesses chattered with each other nervously about what protocol said to do in a situation like this. A bureaucrat sitting across the aisle from the Mayor began to loudly voice his dissatisfaction with the train system. She herself was just frankly puzzled, trying to figure out what in Equestria was going on.
Mayor Mare couldn't feel it, but the car was beginning to slow down. But more importantly, nor could she feel the sudden but subtle jolt of hooves touching down on its now-exposed rear platform. And amidst the confusion, nopony noticed the back door cracking open, or the clink-clink-clink of metal bouncing along the floor. At least, not until it erupted with a mighty blast of light and sound, as though the storms outside had been suddenly let in.
The figure on the back raced inside, a long coil of thin cord in hoof, practically ripping off the back door as he returned. Below the flashing windows, another of the shadows flew along the train car's left side, pasting a line of charges onto its underbelly. Seconds later, they detonated, throwing the car off its tracks.
Inside, Mayor Mare was just regaining her faculties when she felt a sudden, violent jump beneath her hooves, and the entire world spun into chaos. Though she couldn't focus or understand any of it, she could tell that they were falling, at least until something ripped her backward, out of her seat and down (or rather up) the aisle.
Mayor Mare couldn't see it, but she had been pulled free of the doomed train car, through the open rear door. She couldn't hear it, but the screams of her fellow passengers howled just above the roar of the storm, for the split-second before it hit the river's surface and began to sink. She couldn't feel it, but what had saved her from their fate had been a long strand of military-grade paracord, tethered to the bridge above and suspending her well above the torrent.
Because that paracord had been looped and tightened around her neck, snapping it as it dragged her from the falling car. Mayor Mare had survived the train crash, only to die by hanging.
"So in conclusion, all bodies have been accounted for, and we are still investigating the cause of this tragic, if unusual, accident. Now then, we are ready to field a few ques..."
The ordered crowd of journalist burst up in a roar of attention-seeking hooves and voices, each looking to be the one to trap the press secretary in the web of perceived lies and half-truths. Above the throng, one of them was able to stand out and be chosen; the others quieted down and waited for the next opportunity.
"So one car was disconnected from the rest of the train and thrown into the river, while the others went completely untouched. Was this a targeted attack?"
"The Royal Investigative Service has been contacted, but we are not prepared to definitively answer that question."
The uproar resumed, and the process repeated itself.
"So all the bodies recovered were confirmed to be drowning victims?"
"Well... yes, we can confirm that almost all the victims died because of drowning."
However brief it was, Penstroke's faltering had betrayed him, and as he shifted his notes about nervously in his hooves, he knew everypony screaming at him had the same question in mind: "Almost?" Sensing a moment of weakness, the photographers joined in the commotion as every camera in Canterlot Square had its crosshairs aimed at the press secretary.
But far behind and above any of them, another far more traditional set of crosshairs landed on the same pony. These were the crosshairs of a telescopic hunting scope, and on the roof of an apartment complex opposite the Square, they were all that separated the press secretary from the eye of his assassin.
"We've heard reports that the Mayor of Ponyville..."
She tuned out the ambient noise, focusing only on the pony in her sights.
As the crosshairs landed just below his forehead, her breath came to a controlled pause.
Bringing the tip of her right hoof smoothly back, she felt nothing as the action triggered, and a hoof-long metal shaft was launched from the weapon. The projectile cut through the space between them remorselessly, losing no speed as it began to drop. Too focused on regaining the press' attention and his own composure, Penstroke never even had the chance to see it coming.
The tear of paper as a hole clean as a bullet's (not that bullets of that caliber existed in Equestria, mind you) was ripped into the notes.
A short splash of blood as the bolt instantaneously caused and sealed a traumatic wound.
An inappropriately ordinary "thud" as the immediate world fell silent.
Well, I say "fell silent", I mean "took a quiet moment to register what had just happened, then erupted into pandemonium." Bodies threw themselves on top of the press secretary's, mares in the crowd screamed in the rather cliche fashion, and armored guards whirled around with swords drawn, trying to hide their own confusion.
And all the while Nightshade watched on, chuckling quietly at the chaos as she began to break down her crossbow. Folding the bow's hinged arms into the rest of the body, she removed the scope and set the weapon into a form-fitting cavity in the cushiony foam that filled its hardback case. Taking one last look at the Square, she placed the scope in its own opening in the case, closed and fastened it shut, and left her perch. With a light flutter of her wings, she descended into the building's enclosed courtyard.
"Lightning to Air Base. It's done, on the exfil." A voice came back on her magitech earpiece. "Lightning, this is Air Base, solid copy. Nice work." She pressed through a glass door into the apartment building, strolled confidently into a maintenance closet, and disappeared.
With a few solid smacks against his desk, Leatherneck attempted to perform percussive maintenance on his small radio, to no avail.
"Blasted thing still won't play!"
"Ease up, it's probably an incoming sandstorm blocking the signal," replied his squadmate, Watchful Eye, who was filling up his canteen. In spite of the adequate air conditioning, something about working at a desert outpost made him near-constantly thirsty. Maybe it was the fact that there was unless you were on post at the top of the watchtower (which he was about to be), there was nothing to see outside but sand, sand, and more sand. Maybe it was that the only interruption to their daily sun-baking was the occasional possibility of being overrun by a massive windstorm of that same sand, which made the sun-baking far preferable. Maybe it was something else entirely, but either way it made him thirsty.
"Yeah, look outside, it's gettin' darker already. Gotta be a storm blockin' out the sun," Leatherneck agreed, spinning in his chair.
"I'm headed up to the hotbox to relieve Dusty, maybe get a fix on how big this mother is."
"Gotcha, I'll let him know you're on your way."
As Watchful pulled a bandana up over his muzzle and went outside to begin the long stairwell-climb up, Leatherneck grabbed hold of a walkie-talkie.
"Dusty, the Eyeball is comin' up early for you, you lucky bastard. Seen anything interesting yet?"
No reply.
"Hey Dusty, comms check, you readin' me up there?"
Still nothing but white noise. Leatherneck was starting to become concerned. He turned around in his chair to see that yes, Watchful Eye was still there.
"Eyeball, take a new radio up with you, Dusty's has gone dead."
Watchful Eye just stood there, grinning at him in an oddly menacing fashion. Which was odd, because nopony in the Royal Guards had ever known Watchful Eye to be the menacing kind. Somewhat aloof, sure, but also generally harmless. Even odder was seeing him spit green goop out of his mouth, which nopony had ever known him to do. Unfortunately, Leatherneck would not be able to report his buddy's newfound quirks, as that green goop had pinned him to his chair, and somehow made its way over his face. While being both green and goopy, it also appeared to be soporific, as he found himself inexplicably nodding off, in spite of the panic he should've felt. Yeah, yeah, little sleep would be nice...
Nightly check-ins from Royal Guard Outpost W-3 ended that evening, and would not resume for a very long time.