General Walther had always been a busy stallion. He had been particularly busy almost every day for the past six years. He was even busier than usual over the next two days.
He woke up early the next morning and packed up his items. Other than his steel briefcase and the package he had brought from Canterlot, he only had one suitcase. Once he had everything packed, he said his good-byes to Bronze Star, SIG Sauer, Rainbow Dash, and everypony else he was acquainted with.
Originally, he had planned to go straight to Hoofington after saying farewell. Last night, he had decided to make another quick visit to Canterlot first. He had promised to replace everything Trixie had lost, and he intended to keep that promise. The brilliant azure mare had given him a list of her lost property before they parted ways. He put in an order for a large wooden trailer, some fireworks, and several other items.
Once he was finished shopping, he brought the objects to the transportation department and requested that they be delivered to the Municipal Building in Hoofington by tomorrow afternoon. He did this for two reasons. One, he was going to travel to Hoofington by a standard passenger train, and none of its box cars were large enough to hold the trailer. Two, he aimed to keep a low profile while he was in Hoofington, and he felt that he would seem quite conspicuous if he went around the city with a trailer in tow.
Once his order was confirmed, Walther travelled to Hoofington and rendezvoused with the Firebrand Regiment. The team had already been informed that Walther had been put in charge temporarily. The team was accustomed to having separate tasks on their assignments. Since SIG Sauer had been temporarily relieved of his command, everypony else in the team had to accept an additional amount of responsibility. Thankfully, they were ready to compensate for setbacks. After all, the entire unit was operated by a very specific chain-of-command.
The Firebrand Regiment was composed of ten ponies, including SIG Sauer and Walther. In addition to being an elite group, they also formed a very close-knit group. While they all had ranks and titles, they just addressed each other by name most of the time. The only occasions when they avoided using their own names was whenever they were in the field.
When they were in the field, they used codenames instead. Their codenames were simple but unambiguous. They were all known as "Omicron," followed by a number. Each person's number was determined by his or her place in the team's chain-of-command. The more authority they had, the higher their given number.
Omicron-1 was a Pegasus stallion named Heckler. He had a brown coat, a beige mane, green irises, and a quarterstaff for a cutie mark. Before joining the Regiment, he had been in the country's border patrol. His previous job had involved monitoring all the activity along the nation's borders, as well as evaluating everypony who wished to enter Equestria and determining which of them could be allowed passage. He had managed to locate and turn away dozens of would-be invaders on the northern border.
Omicron-2 was an Earth Pony stallion named Koch. He had a purple coat, a red mane, grey irises, and an anchor for a cutie mark. Before joining the Regiment, he had been in the Navy. He had been posted on many different ships throughout his commission. Most of them were freighters, frigates, and research vessels. He had even been on a few warships, and the list of his attainments on the sea was extensive.
Omicron-3 was a Unicorn stallion named Peacemaker. He had a scarlet coat, a gold mane, black irises, and a syringe for a cutie mark. Before joining the Regiment, he had been a physician. He had served in the army as a combat medic, and he had saved the lives of many of his fellow officers. He was very knowledgeable on how to make people feel better, as well as how to hit his opponents where it hurt.
Omicron-4 was an Earth Pony stallion named Glock. He had a blue coat, a green mane, yellow irises, and a shield for a cutie mark. Before joining the Regiment, he had worked at Canterlot Castle. As a matter of fact, he was an ex-Captain of the Royal Guard. He had spent years protecting the Equestrian Royalty in the most direct way possible. His scowl was enough to make any potential aggressor back away.
Omicron-5 was a Unicorn mare named Beretta. She had a tan coat, a brown mane, pink irises, and a scope for a cutie mark. Before joining the Regiment, she had been in Special Forces. Her skills as a marksmare alone was enough to earn her a spot on the group. She was recognized as one of the top five best sharpshooters in the country. Every time she fired a projectile, she always hit her target.
Omicron-6 was a Pegasus mare named Caracal. She had a sky blue coat, a light blue mane, dark blue irises, and a tool chest for a cutie mark. Before joining the Regiment, she worked for the Equestrian Threat Neutralizing Agency. She was one of the corporation's top spies and undercover operatives. In her time, she had successfully infiltrated over a dozen criminal organizations and helped bring them to justice.
Omicron-7 was an Earth Pony mare named Ruger. She had a taupe coat, an orange mane, red irises, and a cluster of wires for a cutie mark. Before joining the Regiment, she had worked for the defense department. She was a certified expert in mechanical and electrical engineering. She had been part of a special division who developed various types of armaments and safeguards. When the weapons were tested in the field, she was also the one who supervised their trials.
Omicron-8 was a Unicorn stallion named Carabine. He had an aqua blue coat, a lime green mane, sherbet orange irises, and a flashlight for a cutie mark. Before joining the Regiment, he had worked for the Military Enforcement Corps and a number of security firms. He had a reputation as a master of tactics, and he had a very strategic mind. He could draw up a plan to handle just about any scenario.
Walther was Omicron-9, and SIG Sauer was Omicron-10. Although Bronze Star was not an official member of the team, the Firebrand Regiment still answered to the young prince, and they regarded him as their superior officer. For that reason, they often referred to him as Omicron-11.
Anyway, when Walther met up with his colleagues, they informed him of everything that had happened since they got to Hoofington. Material Study had arrived two days beforehand. They had tried to determine where he hid his chemical compounds, but he managed to conceal his entire stash beneath their notice.
On the plus side, his business transaction was still scheduled to take place in the same room at the Rosebud Hotel. He had booked that suite several days in advance, and he planned to check out the day after he completed the deal. Because of this, the Firebrand Regiment could go forward with their original plan to capture him.
The Regiment was still no closer to finding out who Material Study's buyer was. All they did know was that he was connected to Lavender Dazzle, and that he was somepony they had contended with once before. Beyond that, his identity was a complete mystery.
Although the team had reviewed their plan many times over the past several days, Walther proposed that they go over it one final time. He wanted to make certain that there was absolutely no uncertainty, and that they had accounted for every possible situation. Ultimately, he determined that the Firebrand Regiment was indeed ready to complete the operation.
The next day, they carried out the plan. In afternoon, they made their way to the Rosebud Hotel. When they were a block away from the building, they separated and went to their posts.
Beretta climbed to the roof of the building across the street and set up her firing apparatus. Caracal flew up to the window of Material Study's suite and drifted there. Peacemaker stood outside the front entrance of the building and kept watch on the sidewalk.
Everypony else went inside the building. Ruger stayed in the lobby so that she could monitor all the activity on the ground floor. Glock positioned himself at the back of the building so that he could ensure that the back door was covered. Heckler, Koch, and Carabine made their way up to the eleventh floor. Once they got there, they split up and guarded the exits. Heckler stood by the stairwell in the east wing, Koch stood by the stairwell in the west wing, and Carabine stood by the elevators.
Lastly, Walther got to the top of the building. He would supervise the mission from there. He would also keep an eye on the roof access. That way, all possible escape routes were covered.
When Walther arrived on the roof, there was nopony else there. The maintenance and security staff were not scheduled to come up until the evening. He saw that as a major advantage; he would be able to regulate the mission without any interruptions.
Walther trotted over to the southern end of the roof and kneeled by the edge. He had taken his steel briefcase with him. After extracting his feather key and using it to unlock the case, he opened the lid and dug through the files until he found one labeled "Regiment Roster: Hoofington."
Walther also removed a tiny plastic bag. Inside was a small cylindrical device that was scarcely the size of a bottle cap. He carefully inserted the device into his earhole and locked it into place between his earlobe and eardrum. Once it was set, he muttered softly "This is Omicron-9 to all units. Do you read me?"
Over the next few seconds, eight voices responded "Loud and clear, Omicron-9."
Walther's earpiece was actually a communicator. Every member of the Regiment had one of these devices. They were powered by a mixture of electricity and magic. Ruger had developed these devices so that the group could remain in contact with each other during their missions.
"Okay, guys; this is it," Walther pronounced, "Lavender Dazzle's associate is scheduled to arrive within the hour. Keep in mind that he will be heavily protected. Just remember; Omicron-11 has authorized us to use whatever force we need to bring him and Material Study in. The associate's bodyguards are disposable."
"We have our priorities straight, Omicron-9," Carabine assured him.
"Good," Walther remarked, "Be ready, and, more importantly, be careful. I don't have to remind you that even in the most straightforward operation, things can go wrong. If anything new crops up, report it in straightaway."
"Acknowledged," the other eight replied simultaneously.
"Alright, Omicron-9 out," Walther stated.
The mahogany Pegasus turned back to his briefcase and searched through its contents again. He pulled out a marker and what appeared to be a small blackboard.
This was no ordinary blackboard. There were only two of it in existence. The Firebrand Regiment had one, and Bronze Star had the other. They used the blackboards to correspond during missions. Whenever somepony wrote on one of them, the words magically reappeared on the other one.
Walther removed the cap of the marker and wrote on the blackboard Everything's in place. Once he finished writing, the words lingered for about ten seconds. Then they slowly faded away. It would only take a couple seconds for the words to reappear on the other blackboard, regardless of the distance between them.
At this time, Bronze Star was in the study at the embassy in Ponyville. He had his blackboard on his lap. The only other person in the room was SIG Sauer. The two stallions were sitting in silence, waiting to hear from their colleagues.
When Walther's statement appeared on the blackboard, Bronze Star looked over at SIG Sauer and informed him "They're ready."
"Very well," SIG Sauer remarked.
The highest-ranking active member of the Firebrand Regiment was usually tasked with providing Bronze Star with real-time updates of their missions. For that reason, SIG Sauer normally carried the other blackboard around. The pine green Unicorn had given it to Walther shortly after the mahogany Pegasus was given provisional command of the group.
Bronze Star took out a marker and wrote a single word on his blackboard: Understood.
Walther received this response a couple seconds later. Once he got it, he placed the blackboard back in his briefcase and returned his attention to the edge of the building.
The streets in Hoofington were somewhat crowded and noisy. However, there was relative silence between the Firebrand Regiment over the next half-hour. Nothing especially notable happened in all that time.
Once that half-hour ended, so did the interval of inactivity. Peacemaker looked to the left of the hotel and noticed that six stallions were nearing the building. One of them appeared to be flanked by the others. The scarlet Unicorn stepped off to the side and said into his earpiece "This is Omicron-3, checking in."
"Go ahead, Omicron-3," Walther retorted.
"A group of stallions are approaching from the east," Peacemaker professed, "Five of them are moving in a circle. They seem to be surrounding the sixth one."
"Could that be the buyer?" Heckler inquired
"It might be," Walther admitted, "Omicron-5, can you get a glimpse of them?"
Beretta redirected her scope at the group of stallions and concentrated on their movements. As she followed their movements, she thought aloud "The five outer stallions are totally visible. I can't make out the sixth one, though. His head is covered."
Walther leaned over the edge of the building and focused on the ground below. He could see the stallions, but he was on higher ground than Beretta, and he did not have a scope. So it was difficult for him to make out anything specific about them.
"Does one of them have a claret coat?" Walther queried.
"Actually, yes," Beretta replied, "The one in the back does. Looks like a rather unpleasant fellow."
"He probably is," Walther observed, "As you know, we were able to identify one of the buyer's bodyguards in advance. We were informed that he's a claret stallion. I'm certain that's him."
"That means the stallion in front of him must be his employer," Koch speculated.
"My thoughts exactly," Walther commented. He sat up straight and spoke into his earpiece "Everypony, stand by. The target has arrived."
At those words, the other members of the group snapped to full attention. The main part of the operation had officially begun.
A minute later, the six stallions reached the front of the building. The valet held the door open for them, and Peacemaker watched them as they entered the hotel one-by-one. When they were all inside, he informed the others "Target has entered the premises."
"Omicron-7, verify," said Walther.
Ruger was standing in the middle of the lobby. She observed the group of stallions as they walked through the room. They were still moving in the same pattern as before. All of them wore long coats, and the one in the middle wore a fedora.
When they reached the front desk, the stallion in the center told the receptionist "Excuse me, I am here to meet one of your guests, but I do not know his room number. Could you give it to me?"
"Certainly, sir," the receptionist answered, looking through the hotel records, "What is his name?"
"Material Study," he informed her, "I believe he's on the eleventh floor."
"Yes, sir," she affirmed, "You can find him in Room 1128."
"Thank you," the stallion in the fedora said in response.
He and his companions walked away from the front desk and headed towards the elevators. As they waited for the lift to arrive, Ruger proclaimed into her earpiece "Confirmed; it's the buyer. He's making his way upstairs as we speak."
"How is he getting there?" Walther queried.
"The elevators," Ruger apprised him.
"Omicron-8, they're coming your way," Walther disclosed.
"Got it," Carabine acknowledged. Every member of the Firebrand Regiment was currently wearing a belt of assorted tools and weapons. The aqua blue Unicorn removed his belt and hid it behind a table. Then he backed away from the elevators and leaned against the wall. He was behaving casually to avoid tipping off the buyer and his bodyguards.
When the elevator arrived on the ground floor, the six stallions piled into it. Once the doors closed, Ruger notified the others "They're on their way up."
"I hear you," Carabine avowed.
He waited in total silence for about thirty seconds. Then the elevator arrived, and the six stallions stepped out of it. They did notice Carabine, but they paid him very little mind.
"Good afternoon," he greeted cordially.
A couple of them gave him a nod in response. The rest showed him no friendly gesture whatsoever. They simply trotted past Carabine and headed down the hallway. When they arrived at Room 1128, one of the stallions knocked on the door. It was quickly answered by Material Study.
"Good, you're here," the bearded stallion remarked. He stood aside to allow the six stallions inside. The stallion in the fedora entered first. His bodyguards followed him individually. The claret stallion was the last one to enter. He made certain to shut the door behind him.
Once he was alone again, Carabine retrieved his belt and put it back on. Then he mumbled into his earpiece "Target has made contact with Material Study."
"Very well," Walther declared, "Don't take your eyes off that door, Omicron-8."
"Acknowledged," Carabine asserted.
Walther peeked over the edge of the roof again. He saw Caracal hovering in the air outside the window to Material Study's suite. She was close enough that he could have just called out to her, but he knew better than to shout. Any loud noises of that sort could easily ruin the whole operation.
He muttered into his earpiece "Omicron-6, you're up."
"Affirmative," Caracal responded, "Do you want me to get a visual on the targets?"
"Negative, leave the visual to Omicron-5," Walther advised her, "Right now, all you need to do is listen."
"Roger that," the sky blue Pegasus remarked.
Caracal had been outside of Material Study's suite for almost forty minutes. Although she had been able to hear sounds from within, she had been unable to make out spoken dialogue. With the window closed, there was only so much she could discern. Fortunately, she had a way to remedy this problem.
After receiving her last order from Walther, she removed an object from her belt. It was a headset which was designed to resemble a stethoscope. Or at least half a stethoscope. It did have a full chest piece, but it only had one eartip. Caracal inserted the eartip into her free ear. Then she took the chest piece, held it against the bottom right corner of the windowpane, and lightly pressed down on it. The chest piece clung onto the glass as if it had been glued to it.
This device was designed to pick up sounds through solid surfaces, such as concrete, wood, and metal. It was very useful for overhearing conversations that were supposed to be confidential. Conversations such as the one taking place inside Material Study's suite. Caracal removed her communicator from her other ear so that she could concentrate solely on this discussion.
Material Study and the buyer were sitting at a table in the center of the room. The five bodyguards stood at various spots around the suite. It was rather large and spacious for a pedestrian hotel.
Caracal was able to eavesdrop on the entire discussion. It begun when she heard Material Study say "You certainly are punctual. Neither a minute early nor a minute late."
"Lavender told you I'd be here at a certain time, so here I am," a gruff voice retorted, "Of course, it might have helped if I knew which suite was yours before I got here."
"Oh?" Material Study stated cheekily, "Did you have to go door-to-door looking for me?"
"No, I got your room number at the front desk," the stallion in the fedora informed him.
Material Study scoffed and perceived "That hardly seems like an inconvenience. It couldn't have delayed you by more than thirty seconds."
"I don't care about wasting time," the other stallion declared, "What really concerns me is the shelter of this suite. At least if I knew beforehand that this was where the meeting would take place, I could have had my bodyguards check it out in advance."
"What would be the point of that?" Material Study queried.
"They would've been able to ascertain its safety," the stallion in the fedora replied.
"It seems safe enough to me," Material Study observed slyly.
"To you, maybe," the other stallion debated, "But I prefer to be a little more cautious. You never know. Perhaps you, Lavender, and I are not the only ones who knew about this meeting. There's always a chance that somepony else is listening in."
"I highly doubt that," Material Study countered, "I've been in this room for every minute of this past two days. I searched it myself when I first arrived. It's totally clean. It hasn't been wiretapped or anything. Other than room service and housekeeping, nopony else has been in here since I got settled."
"That does set my mind at ease a bit," the stallion in the fedora pronounced, "All the same, I feel we could have done more to better prepare for this meeting. I cringe to think what might happen if the authorities got wind of what we are doing here."
"Aren't you being a tad overprotective of yourself?" Material Study perceived.
"It is not my own well-being that I worry about," the other stallion declared, "I am far more concerned about my organization's plans. The government could step in and ruin them at any time. Now would be the perfect opportunity for them to do that. That said, I believe my anxieties are very much warranted."
Caracal had overheard everything the two stallions had said so far. She had been listening intently to them this whole time. Her concentration was momentarily broken when she heard Walther's voice over her communicator. He asked her "Omicron-6, what's going on down there?"
"Nothing of precedence, Omicron-9," Caracal informed him, slipping her earpiece back into her ear for a moment, "They're just exchanging Smalltalk for now. I'll get back to you when they start discussing business."
"Verified, over," Walther asserted.
The mahogany Pegasus picked up his blackboard and wrote the words It has begun on it. The words soon disappeared. Walther waited patiently for a response, and twenty seconds later, the words Move in on your call appeared on the blackboard.
Several stories below, Caracal took out her communicator again and continued listening to the discussion between Material Study and his buyer.
"If you're so worried about the government interfering with your plans, why would you even bother with them in the first place?" Material Study queried in perplexity.
"Some things are worth taking a tremendous amount of risk for," the buyer proclaimed, "Just because I am willing to accept the risk, that doesn't mean I cannot worry about its repercussions, as well. You must know that the authorities would love a chance to put away my organization. The tiniest misstep could doom us all."
"Well, that's your problem," Material Study scathingly spoke out, "Look, I don't give a mule's flank about your plots. I don't share your ideals. I don't even have any ideals. I'm just in this for the profit."
"So I see," the buyer remarked in disappointment, "Then you're just a regular mercenary."
"Oh, spare me the lecture on conscience," Material Study spat back derisively, "Sure, I'm a mercenary. But you're a collaborator, and these other gentlestallions are hired grunts. We're all dishonest ponies here."
The buyer did not given a comeback straightaway. After sitting in silence for a bit, he just smirked and stated "Oh, I beg to differ. Not ALL of us are so dishonest."
"What do you mean?" Material Study said inquisitively.
At that, the buyer announced to one of his bodyguards "Maelstrom, come over here."
The claret stallion slowly approached his employer and stopped when he was just two feet away from him. Then he mumbled in a deep voice "What can I do for you, sir?"
"Just stand there for a moment," the buyer instructed him. The claret stallion nodded and remained still. His boss turned back to Material Study and told him "Maelstrom here is the head of my security detail."
"I know, Lavender mentioned him when she came to visit me," the bearded stallion recalled.
"She did that so that you might have some idea of who you're dealing with," the buyer elucidated.
"I DO know who I'm dealing with," Material Study declared, "You think I would have agreed to this transaction if I didn't know whose money I was accepting?"
"No, I do not," the buyer bluntly observed, "But there are people in Equestria who are more dangerous than me and my affiliates. People who do not share our 'ideals,' as you put them, but all the same, people you'd never want to cross. Maelstrom is one of those individuals."
"Really?" Material Study remarked, clearly unconvinced, "That's a little difficult to believe. I've never regarded an attendant-for-hire as particularly menacing."
"I can see why you'd think that," the stallion in the fedora proclaimed, "After all, many attendants-for-hire do their jobs just for money. That's something you have in common with them. However, Maelstrom here is more than your average attendant-for-hire. Every time somepony seeks out his services, he protects them with his own life."
"Commendable of him," Material Study drily commented.
"Yes, but not nearly as commendable as what he does to ensure the well-being of his customers," the buyer proclaimed, "Whenever somepony threatens whoever he is protecting, he goes to great lengths to keep them alive and well. If it comes down to it, he will not hesitate to permanently silence the threat."
There was a brief interval of silence, and then the stallion in the fedora turned to the claret stallion and told him "Maelstrom, tell Mr. Study about your last client."
"Very well, sir," the claret stallion coincided. He then turned towards the bearded stallion, and once he had his undivided attention, he explicated "Before I was employed by this fine gentlestallion, I worked for a gangster. He used to belong to a very powerful organization. When he was in it, nopony dared to touch him. Then one day, he got himself in a lot of trouble. To maintain their image, his organization cut off all ties from him. That solved their problems, but it didn't solve his. Less than a day after he was disowned by his mob family, somepony hired a professional assassin to take him out."
"So, how long did he last?" Material Study inquired.
"Oh, he's still breathing," Maelstrom informed him, "The assassin isn't, though. He made the foolish mistake of underestimating me. He spent weeks looking for my previous employer, and eventually, he found us. When he did, I gave him a warning to back away. But he was determined to eliminate my previous employer, and he moved in for the kill. He was very quick, but I was quicker. He never saw me coming. Mostly because I threw a skewer through his eye."
Material Study listened to everything the claret stallion said. When he was finished, the bearded stallion gazed off to the side of the room and remarked "That's quite a fascinating story. And a rather extravagant one."
Maelstrom narrowed his eyes and perceived "You don't believe me, do you?"
Material Study lightly shrugged and retorted with "No offense, but I find it unlikely that an attendant-for-hire triumphed over a professional assassin."
Maelstrom did not respond immediately. After another period of silence, he scoffed, stepped closer to the bearded stallion, and pulled a small box out of his coat pocket. He placed the box on the table in front of Material Study, and he beckoned him "Open it."
Material Study was slightly confused, but he complied with this request. The box was hardly bigger than a ring case. Material Study picked it up with his front hooves, and popped it open.
When he saw what was inside, Material Study dropped the box and recoiled in surprise. He stared at the box's contents in astonishment for about twenty seconds. Then he gradually looked up at Maelstrom. The claret stallion bore a wicked grin on his face. Material Study muttered in shock "What… is… that?"
"A little memento from the assassin," Maelstrom wittily enlightened him, "While I did throw a skewer through one of his eyes, his other eye was undamaged. I thought it'd be a shame to waste it."
"That's… unhealthy," Material Study commented in disgust.
"Well, look at it this way," Maelstrom cheekily declared, "By holding onto this, I'm essentially preserving what's left of that assassin. I don't just do this job for the money, Mr. Study. I also do it for the prestige. I stick to my own code, and I value my clients' lives as much as my own. Anypony who jeopardizes my boss's safety is not safe from me. That includes people who are not as wary as him. So let me say this: if anything happens to him while we're here, I'll hold you responsible."
Normally, Material Study was not intimidated by threats. But it was not every day that a stallion boasted about killing somepony and gave him a box with an eyeball as proof of the deed. He gazed up at Maelstrom nervously and insisted "Okay, I get the message."
Maelstrom nodded in approval, picked up the tiny box, closed it, and slid it back into his coat. After that, Material Study turned to the stallion in the fedora and asked him in bewilderment "Where do you find these people, Raoul?"
"I have my resources," the buyer candidly responded, "As do you, Material."
While the two stallions continued talking, Caracal decided to check in. She reinserted her earpiece into her left ear and whispered "Omicron-9, come in."
"What is it, Omicron-6?" Walther queried.
"Material Study just referred to the buyer as 'Raoul,'" she informed him.
Walther was surprised to hear this. "Are you sure?"
"I heard it with my own ears," Caracal asserted.
Walther gazed over the edge of the building and muttered "You don't suppose he means…?"
"I don't know, sir," the sky blue Pegasus proclaimed, "His voice is definitely familiar, but I'm not sure if it's him."
Walther turned his attention to the mare on the roof of the building across the street. He inquired "Omicron-5, do you have a visual?"
"Affirmative," Beretta replied. She had her scope concentrated on the window. She had an excellent view of most of the suite. She thought aloud "Material Study and his buyer are seated at a table. Every part of Study is visible from the waist up. But one of the bodyguards is standing between me and the buyer. I can't make out his face."
"I could try to get a visual of the room," Caracal offered.
"Negative, Omicron-6," Walther told her, "Don't risk giving yourself away. If just one of the people in that room spots you, this entire operation will be compromised."
"Understood," Caracal said in acknowledgement. This entire time, she had been listening to both the dialogue between her colleagues and the conversation inside the suite. She turned back to the window and whispered into her earpiece "I have to go now. They just brought up Material Study's stash of chemicals."
"Alright, get back to us when he reveals the location," Walther instructed her.
"I will," she decreed. Caracal then removed her communicator and returned her full attention to the discussion inside the suite.
"So, do you have the compounds?" asked the individual known as "Raoul."
"Yes, I have them," Material Study proclaimed.
"Then where are they?" Raoul enquired.
"They're… close," was all the bearded stallion said at first.
"They're not here, are they?" the stallion in the fedora theorized.
"Of course not," Material Study sharply remarked, "Lavender advised me to hide them somewhere other than here. And even if she didn't, I still would have done so."
"Why's that?" stated Raoul.
"For one thing, many of those compounds are unstable," Material Study expounded, "I know better than to bring over two hundred pounds of volatile substances to a public building. That'd be a hazard to the community's safety. Plus, I needed some insurance."
"What do you mean by 'insurance?'" Raoul queried.
"I need to be assured that I won't be cheated," Material Study answered him frankly, "Although you might not share my thirst for wealth, I know for a fact that your organization needs money just as much as I do. The amount you're offering me is extremely generous. Almost seemed too good to be true."
"Well, I give my word that it IS true," Raoul guaranteed the bearded stallion, "You'll get your money, Mr. Study. But only after this transaction is completed."
"That's not what I agreed to," Material Study pointed out, "The deal was half now, half later."
"I know," Raoul commented, "We will honor that bargain. First, I'd like some assurances in return."
"You mean that before I tell you where the chemicals are, you want me to assure you that they're really there?" Material Study presumed.
"Not only that, but also that you actually have the chemicals," Raoul illuminated.
Material Study frowned and mumbled impatiently "So now we're questioning MY honor?"
"Nopony's questioning anything here," Raoul countered, "I'd like to believe you're a stallion of your word, Material. However, before I show you any money, I'm going to need solid proof that you do in fact have these compounds."
"Lavender Dazzle vouched for me," Material Study reminded him, "Isn't her testimony enough?"
"Not for me," stated Raoul, "Lavender is much lower in our organization's hierarchy than I. Since I speak for a much larger portion of it, I need more convincing of your trustworthiness."
For about a minute, the two stallions sat in uncomfortable silence. Then Material Study smirked and heatedly uttered "Very well, if you insist."
Caracal heard the sounds of furniture being moved and hoofsteps going across the room. She put her communicator back in her ear and muttered "Omicron-5, what's happening in there?"
"Material Study just got out of his chair and walked over to his bed, Omicron-6," Beretta apprised her. She paused for a moment, and then she added in "He's pulling something out from underneath it. Now he's carrying it back to the buyer."
"Can you tell what it is?" Caracal queried.
"It's a small wooden crate," Beretta notified her colleague, "Material Study's setting it down on the table. Now he's removing the lid and pulling out a few glass vessels. They appear to contain various types of liquids."
"Could those be some of the compounds?" Glock hypothesized.
"I believe so, Omicron-4," Caracal responded.
"I'll go ahead and let Omicron-10 and Omicron-11 know," Walther declared, "Call in as soon as you have confirmation, Omicron-6."
"You got it, Omicron-9," Caracal asserted, taking out her earpiece again.
Inside the suite, Raoul raised an eyebrow and stated in perplexity "Why didn't you just tell me you had samples of the chemicals on-hoof?"
"While I like to be prepared, I prefer to just use words when I negotiate," Material Study explicated, "Clearly, I'll need more than words here. So as a symbol of my goodwill, I'll give you these specimens of my products. Is that a suitable arrangement?"
"Yes, it is," Raoul replied. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper that had been creased several times. He unfolded it until it was a smooth sheet.
"What's that?" Material Study queried.
"A list of all the materials we ordered," Raoul informed him, "I'd like to make sure they're all here."
"I thought you might," Material Study pronounced, reaching into the box and pulling out another sheet of paper, "So I went ahead and included a list of the whole inventory in the crate."
"I'd prefer consulting my own copy of the list," Raoul muttered straightforwardly.
"Suit yourself," Material Study wryly agreed, dropping his paper back into the box, "Take as long as you need to look over this stuff. I'm in no rush."
"Very well," Raoul acknowledged.
The next several minutes were spent in relative silence as the stallion the fedora examined the contents of the crate. All of the glass containers had been labeled to indicate what was inside of them. That made identifying the compounds a lot easier.
Every now and then, Raoul picked up one of the flasks and got a closer look. At one point, he considered pulling out the cork of one of them. Before he did that, Material Study advised him "If you're going to open the flasks, don't inhale directly above them. Some of these compounds are deadly enough that the fumes alone could kill you."
"Noted," was all Raoul said in response. He only opened a few of the flasks. Whenever he unscrewed the top of one of them, he held his breath, and the other stallions covered their muzzles as a precaution. As soon as he was finished examining the contents, he sealed the flask back up.
Twenty-five minutes later, he leaned back in his chair, smiled in satisfaction, and declared "They're all here. The poisons, the contagions, the nerve agents, the hallucinogens, the stimulants… everything."
"So, how about you show me something in return?" Material Study suggested.
The stallion in the fedora nodded in agreement and gestured for his bodyguards to approach him. Once they were all gathered around the table, they each removed four bags from their jackets and dropped them in front of Material Study. All of the bags made a metallic clinking sound when they landed on the surface of the table.
The bearded stallion picked up one of the bags and pulled it open. Inside was a pile of bits. Material Study grinned widely at the sight.
As he examined his prize, Raoul proposed "Feel free to count it if you want."
"I think I'll wait until later," Material Study declared, closing up the moneybag and setting it on the table, "It would take a while to count five thousand bits in one sitting, and I wouldn't want to waste your time."
"I appreciate that," stated Raoul, "You'll receive an additional five thousand once we have the rest of your stash."
"I'll tell you where it is in a moment," Material Study assured him, "Before I do, there's something else I must know."
"What might that be?" Raoul enquired.
"I need to know if you and your people are equipped to handle volatile substances," Material Study explicated.
"Of course we are," Raoul snapped impertinently, "Do you think we would have asked for those compounds if we weren't prepared to transport them?"
"I didn't say that," Material Study retorted, "I'm merely being cautious. This is one scenario where the expression 'let the buyer beware' does not apply. I've been working with harmful chemicals for decades, and if there's one thing I've learned about them in all that time, it's that there is always a risk when transporting them."
"How often do things do wrong?" Raoul queried.
"If things are done properly, rarely," Material Study expounded, "If they're done improperly, accidents can happen quite often. Twelve years ago, I worked for a chemical production company in Baltimare. One day, we received a request for a shipment of nitroglycerin from Las Pegasus. At the time, we did not have the necessary safety equipment on-hoof. However, the shipment was urgently needed, so we were ordered to get it to Las Pegasus without the safety equipment. Many of my colleagues and I objected, but our concerns were dismissed. So we had to proceed without the safeguards."
"So, how did that turn out?" Raoul inquired in interest.
"We didn't even get halfway to Las Pegasus before one of the carts collapsed," Material Study recounted, "We were in the wilderness when it happened, but the ensuing explosion could be seen for miles in every direction. Most of the convoy was killed in the blast. Several of the others lost limbs or became comatose. I was one of the few who were not hospitalized. And needless to say, the rest of the shipment did not arrive on time. Because of that, a lot of projects were set back for months. All because we didn't have the safety equipment."
"That's rather unfortunate," Raoul commented.
"Indeed it was," Material Study concurred, "Ever since that incident, I have never taken transportation of harmful chemicals for granted."
"Well, luckily, we didn't order any nitroglycerin," Raoul pointed out.
"I know, but the materials you did order are just as hazardous," Material Study professed, "I need you to assure me that you will handle them with extreme care. As disastrous as that mishap with the nitroglycerin was, it was at least containable, since it occurred in the wild. But Hoofington is a crowded city. If you and your companions experienced a similar mishap here, the results would be catastrophic."
"Then I can assure you that no such misfortune will happen here," Raoul proclaimed, "We have no intention of using those compounds to bring harm to the citizens of Hoofington. We're saving all of them for the citizens of Canterlot."
When Caracal heard that, she muttered under her breath in worry "Oh no."
She put her communicator back in her ear and spoke into it "Omicron-9, are you there?"
"What is it, Omicron-6?" Walther inquired.
"Better get everypony ready, sir," Caracal advised, "Material Study is going to give this 'Raoul' the location of his stash any second now."
"Very well," Walther acknowledged, "Omicron-1, Omicron-2, Omicron-8, move to your secondary positions."
"Roger that," Heckler, Koch, and Carabine replied simultaneously. The three of them moved through the hotel's eleventh floor until they were a few meters away from Room 1128. They were unarmed at the moment, but they were prepared to draw their weapons at any time.
Inside the suite, Material Study stated "Alright, you've convinced me that you can handle transporting the chemicals. Just make sure nothing happens to them before you reach the capital city."
"Nothing will go wrong," Raoul assured him.
"Very well," said Material Study. There was another short pause, and then the bearded stallion revealed "I hid the compounds in a pawn shop three blocks down the road. The name of the shop is 'Tools, Wares, & Trinkets.' The compounds are stored in barrels labeled 'Specialty Vinegar.'"
Raoul took note of all this. So did Caracal. Outside the window, the sky blue Pegasus looked down and waved her hoof at Peacemaker. When he saw this, the scarlet Unicorn waved back in acknowledgment. Then he spoke into his communicator "Omicron-9, I just got the signal from Omicron-6. Material Study has given away the location of his stash."
"Copy that, Omicron-3," Walther acknowledged, "Omicron-8, are you and the others in position?"
"Affirmative, Omicron-9," Carabine responded.
"The buyer and his bodyguards should be leaving soon," Walther apprised him. "The moment they open that door, move in. If you need back-up, I'll send in Omicron-4 to assist you."
"You got it," stated Carabine.
At this time, Heckler was standing to the left of the door to Room 1128, Koch was standing to the right of it, and Carabine was standing directly in front of it. He stood in such a way that anypony who looked through the peephole would not see him.
"Good job, Omicron-6," Walther said approvingly, "Get out of there and fly up to the roof."
He waited for a response from Caracal. When it did not come, he queried "Omicron-6, do you read me?"
"She hasn't put her earpiece back in," Beretta apprised him, "She can't hear us, Omicron-9."
"Well, we have to pull her back," Walther declared, "Omicron-3, see if you can get her attention."
"Copy that," Peacemaker acknowledged. At this time, he was still standing at the front door of the hotel. He tilted his head upward. Caracal was hovering in the air ten stories above his head. He knew how to get her attention.
He approached the wall of the building and pressed the tip of his horn against it. Then he cast a spell on the cement holding the bricks together. The cement began glowing a shade of bright yellow. At first, it was only on the ground floor, but the glow quickly started spreading upwards. Fortunately, none of the ponies on the sidewalk seemed to mind.
Before long, the glowing cement reached Caracal. It did not take the sky blue Pegasus long to notice it. She recognized it as one of Peacemaker's charms, and she gazed downwards to where the scarlet Unicorn was standing.
Once he had her attention, Peacemaker swiftly pointed to his left ear. Caracal soon realized what he meant. She put her communicator back into her own left ear and asked "What's up?"
"We're about to close in," Peacemaker notified her, "Omicron-9 wants you to meet him on the roof."
"Okay, I understand," Caracal affirmed, "I'll be right up."
She turned to the window and reached her hoof up to it to remove the chest piece of her headset. Just before she could detach it, she heard one of Raoul's bodyguards say "Sir, before we leave, I need to take a look at something."
"Very well," Raoul coincided, "What might that be?"
"Come here," the bodyguard replied, "I'll show you."
Caracal expected the bodyguard to say something else, but she did not hear anypony in the suite speak. After a short while, she looked to the building across the street and queried "Omicron-5, did anything just happen in there?"
"The buyer and one of his bodyguards walked off to the side of the room a minute ago," Beretta informed her, "They've moved away from the window, so they're out of my line of sight."
"Oh, well, it doesn't matter anyway," Walther declared, "We've already got the information we need. You can fall back, Omicron-6."
"Roger that, Omicron-9," Caracal stated.
She turned back to the window and placed her right front hoof on the chest piece of her headset. Before she could dislodge it, something caught her eye. The window's latch was surrounded by a small sparkling cloud. By the time she recognized the cloud as a magic aura, the latch was flipped open.
A split-second later, the entire window was surrounded by the same aura and it was pulled open. The chest piece to Caracal's headset was still attached to the glass, and the eartip to it was still secured in her right ear. As a result, when the window was forced open, she was dragged up along with it.
Caracal was caught totally off her guard when this happened. Before she had time to react, a pair of front hooves shot out through the window and seized her by the throat. Caracal found herself face-to-face with a burly Unicorn.
He grinned malevolently and muttered "Well, well, what do we have here?"
"Maybe she's a spy," one of his colleagues conjectured.
"A rather attractive spy…" another of them commented.
"Well, she ain't no filly scout," a third bodyguard observed.
"At any rate, she's seen too much," the buyer declared. He told the Unicorn at the window "You know what to do."
The brawny bodyguard nodded his head and tightened his grip on Caracal's neck. She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but he had a firm hold on her.
From the ground, Peacemaker could see that Caracal was violently shaking. He placed his hoof against his earpiece and demanded "What the Tartarus is going on up there?"
"One of the bodyguards opened the window!" Beretta notified the others urgently, "He's got Omicron-6 by the neck!"
"Take him out!" Walther commanded, "Now!"
"Aye, sir!" Beretta acknowledged.
Beretta had a small box of tiny metallic capsules next to her. She used her magic to pick up one of the bullets and she loaded it into the chamber of her firing apparatus. Then she gazed through the scope and concentrated on the bodyguard who had seized Caracal. Once she had her aim lined up, she used her magic to launch the projectile.
The bullet sailed through the air in a straight line. It struck the bodyguard directly between his eyes, just below his horn. He yelped in surprise and released Caracal. Then he stumbled backwards and collapsed onto his back, dead.
"He's down!" Beretta announced.
"Good," Walther pronounced, "Omicron-6, retreat immediately! Omicron-1, Omicron-2, Omicron-8, get in there now! Arrest Material Study and his buyer! I don't care about the others!"
"Copy that!" Carabine called out.
As Heckler and Koch armed themselves, Carabine pointed his horn at the door to Room 1128 and cast a spell to unfasten all the locks. Then he drew his weapon, and he rushed inside the suite with Heckler and Koch.
"Federal agents!" Carabine shouted, "Get on the ground now!"
By this point in time, Caracal had managed to retrieve her headset and fly away from the scene. Raoul, Maelstrom, and another of the bodyguards were kneeling by the body of their fallen companion. Material Study and the other two bodyguards were standing closer to the door.
The two standing bodyguards chose to ignore Carabine's order. One of them took out a cleaver and the other took out a mallet. They tried to attack the intruders.
The one with the cleaver swung his weapon at Heckler. The young Pegasus dodged the blow and thumped the bodyguard on the back of his head. As the bodyguard stumbled, Heckler grabbed him by his shoulder, pulled him close, drew a dagger from his belt, and stabbed him with it in the side of his neck. A couple seconds later, the bodyguard dropped his weapon and slumped over.
The one with the mallet tried to clobber Koch with his weapon. The Earth Pony darted away from him and removed a long length of thick metal wire from his belt. When the bodyguard came at him again, Koch maneuvered around him and wrapped the wire around his neck three times. Then he pulled on the ends of the wire with all his might. The bodyguard soon fell victim to strangulation.
Now there were three bodies on the ground. Material Study, Raoul, Maelstrom, and the final bodyguard were all on their hooves, facing the three members of the Firebrand Regiment.
"Don't try anything," Carabine warned them, "Or you'll get the same thing."
The four stallions did not need to be told twice.
"Put your hooves behind your heads," Carabine ordered them.
Raoul and his two remaining bodyguards complied with this order. They leaned back and placed their front hooves on the backs of their heads. Material Study did not move a muscle.
"You, too, Mr. Study," Carabine added in.
The bearded stallion nodded his head and slowly lifted his front hooves. At this time, he was standing right next to the table, and all the samples of his compounds were still on the surface of it. He briefly shifted his gaze to the flasks, and then he looked back to Carabine.
Just when his front hooves reached his scalp, Material Study stepped forward, snatched two of the glass containers, and threw them on the ground. They shattered in approximately the same spot, and when the chemicals mixed, they emitted a thick grey smoke.
"Cover your muzzles!" Material Study alerted the others.
Raoul, Maelstrom, and the other bodyguard quickly moved one of their front hooves over their faces. Out of impulse, Heckler, Koch, and Carabine did the same. The smoke rapidly spread throughout the room. In less than ten seconds, it covered everything.
"Run!" Material Study yelled.
He, Raoul, Maelstrom, and the other bodyguard hastily bolted towards the exit. Because of the smoke, it was difficult to see where they were going, but they managed to get past Heckler, Koch, and Carabine.
Once they were out in the corridor, Maelstrom gestured to the left and told the others "This way, quickly!"
As the four stallions galloped down the hallway, Heckler, Koch, and Carabine made their way out of the room. Carabine hastily closed the door behind them. The three stallions had managed to avoid breathing in the smoke, but their exposure to the smoke had not left them entirely unscathed.
Heckler had a bit of a violent cough, Koch felt as though his eyes were burning, and Carabine had suddenly developed a strong thirst for water.
Despite the dryness in his throat, Carabine managed to utter into his communicator "Omicron-9, we have three hostiles down. But we also have a situation."
"Explain!" Walther commanded.
"Some of the chemicals were spilled," Walther apprised him, "The suite is now contaminated with a toxic smoke. Material Study and the others managed to get past us. They're heading towards the western stairwell. We need backup!"
"Hang in there," Walther advised them. After a momentary pause, he stated "Omicron-4, get to the western stairwell. Intercept the group before they reach the ground floor."
"Right away, Omicron-9!" Glock responded.
As the blue Earth Pony made his way to the western stairwell on the ground floor, Walther spoke to Ruger next: "Omicron-7, I need you to get the hotel's head of security. Tell him to shut down the ventilation to Room 1128. We cannot allow the smoke to spread to other suites!"
"I'm on my way!" Ruger coincided. After making certain she had her government credentials with her, she rushed to find the head of security.
By the time she got to his office, Glock had already trotted up four flights of stairs in the western stairwell. As he ascended, he could hear eight pairs of hooves rapidly approaching from above.
As they got progressively closer, Glock paused, stared upwards, and quietly uttered into his communicator "Omicron-9, the hostiles are nearing me. I'm about to engage them."
"Be careful, Omicron-4," Walther urged him.
"Always, sir," was all Glock said in response.
He then hid around a corner and waited. Before long, the four stallions were upon him. Material Study was at the front of the group. Without morning, the blue stallion jumped out into the open and bucked the bearded stallion in the head. The blow was so powerful that Material Study was knocked out straightaway.
When the chemist collapsed onto the ground, Raoul and his bodyguards halted in their tracks. Glock turned his attention to them. He smirked and cockily remarked "Leaving so soon? You only just arrived."
There was a moment of silence, and then Maelstrom took aside the unnamed bodyguard and told him "Hold him off. I'll get our boss to safety."
"Right," said the bodyguard.
Raoul and Maelstrom quickly turned around and galloped back up the stairs. While they made their getaway, the other bodyguard pulled out a short sword and charged towards Glock.
In response, the blue stallion hastily drew a short sword of his own from his belt. He and the bodyguard spent almost an entire minute parrying each other's blows. After that minute, Glock gained the upper hoof. He maneuvered around the bodyguard and clobbered him on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword.
The other stallion was disoriented only for a fraction of a second, but that was enough time for Glock to finish the fight. He grabbed the bodyguard by his sides, lugged him over to the banister, and tossed him over the rail.
The bodyguard screamed as he fell four stories to the ground. When he landed, the screaming stopped. Glock peered over the rail and saw the bodyguard crumpled on the floor.
He grunted in satisfaction at his victory. Then he turned back to the unconscious form of Material Study. As he knelt down next to chemist and frisked him, Glock said into his earpiece "Omicron-9, another of the hostiles has been dealt with, and Material Study is in custody."
"Excellent work, Omicron-4," Walther remarked, "What about the buyer and Maelstrom?"
"They're making a run for it," Glock apprised him, "I believe they're trying to access the roof, sir."
"If they are, we'll be ready for them," Walther assured his colleague, "Speak to you soon."
He had said 'we' because he was no longer the only person on the roof. Caracal had flown up to the roof as soon as she had gotten free from Raoul's first bodyguard. For a couple minutes after that encounter, it had been a little difficult for her to respire. Fortunately, she was now breathing steadily again.
After he spoke to Glock, Walther turned to the sky blue Pegasus and asked her "Are you prepared to fight?"
"Definitely, sir," she answered. There was a short pause, and then she mumbled "I hope I am, anyway."
"What do you mean?" Walther enquired.
"Omicron-10 wasn't kidding about Maelstrom," Caracal informed him, "He's not just an unethical hired hoof. He's a total sociopath as well. At one point during the meeting, he boasted about killing a professional assassin and keeping his eyeball as a trophy."
Walther winced a little at that. Then he eased down and reassured his colleague with "I still wouldn't worry. We've contended with worse. Besides, assassins have nothing on us."
"I really can't argue with that," Caracal sardonically commented, smirking.
The two of them kept their focus on the door to the roof. A minute later, it swung open, and Raoul and Maelstrom stepped outside. They came face-to-face with the two Pegasi. Raoul groaned angrily and muttered "You've got to be kidding me."
Maelstrom was equally irritated, but he did not let his annoyance show. He turned to his employer and told him "We should go back down, sir."
"I wouldn't recommend that," Walther drily stated, "Your colleagues have been neutralized, and you are totally surrounded. If you keep running, all you'll do is prolong the inevitable."
The stallion in the fedora scoffed in amazement and thought aloud "I would expect nothing less from you… General."
Maelstrom seemed somewhat intrigued by that statement. He turned to his employer and said "Sir, do you know this stallion?"
"Yes, Maelstrom," Raoul explained, "He and the other people we've encountered are part of a Special Ops team. I encountered them a few years ago."
"Under slightly more favorable circumstances," Caracal added in, "At least back then, you weren't conspiring to overthrow the government."
"Whoever said I plan to do that now, Caracal?" Raoul inquired mockingly.
"You did," Caracal frankly replied, "I listened to your entire meeting with Material Study. I heard you say it with my own ears."
"Then it looks like you got me," Raoul bluntly observed.
"Yes, we do," Walther commented. He gradually approached the stallion in the fedora and told him "You're under arrest for high crimes against Equestria."
Before the mahogany Pegasus could reach Raoul, Maelstrom stepped in front of his boss and sternly remarked "Actually, he isn't."
"Actually, he is," Walther cheekily countered, "I'd suggest you stand down. Let's not add resisting arrest, assaulting federal agents, attempted murder, and being an accessory to conspiracy to your list. As of right now, the worst you can be charged with is giving aid to a known criminal."
"Oh, I beg to differ," Maelstrom pronounced. He gestured over at Caracal and stated "If she was eavesdropping on us the entire time, then she already knows I'm a killer. You'd be able to use my own testimony to charge me with first-degree murder. I'd rather die than go to prison."
"You might want to reconsider that stance," Walther recommended, "My superior has ordered me to capture your boss and Material Study alive. But he doesn't care what happens to you. That's not to say he just wants you dead. If you cooperate, he may be willing to let you go free."
"Considering what your colleagues did to my coworkers, I find that extremely unlikely," Maelstrom snappily retorted.
"I apologize for the loss of your associates," Walther told him sincerely, "But they refused to surrender. We had no choice but to fight back. You must understand that if you do not stand down, I will be forced to do the same to you."
Maelstrom chuckled and remarked "You think you can beat me, old stallion?"
"Oh, yes," Walther answered straightforwardly, "I encourage you to think carefully about this. Go up against me, and you'll be getting yourself in a whole lot of trouble."
"I'm no stranger to trouble," Maelstrom disclosed, "Aside from that, you wouldn't be the first government agent I've put in the ground."
"I'm not talking about the legal issues," Walther clarified, "I'm talking about your chances of survival. If you attack me, you most certainly won't be leaving this building alive."
"We'll just see about that," Maelstrom muttered heatedly. He cracked the knuckles in his front hooves and popped his neck twice.
The veteran Wonderbolt was prepared for a vicious struggle. He spread his wings and raised his own front hooves in a defensive stance.
Caracal trotted to his side and said reassuringly "I've got your back, General."
"I appreciate that, Caracal," Walther disclosed, "But I've got this. You just make sure Raoul doesn't try to escape."
"You can count on me, sir," she guaranteed him.
The sky blue mare turned her attention to the stallion in the fedora. As she stepped closer to him, she cheekily remarked "How about we see how tough you are without your bodyguards?"
Raoul smirked and said aloofly "Let's not fight, Cara."
"No, let's," Caracal spat back heatedly, "And don't ever call me that again."
"Oh, my apologies," he stated derisively, "Would you prefer 'Dirty Little Whorse?'"
At that, Caracal scowled and murmured "Big mistake."
Then she swung her front hoof at Raoul, striking him full on the muzzle. He stumbled backwards, but he quickly recovered. He turned back to Caracal, glared at her, and remarked crossly "You asked for this."
Without warning, he thrust his front hoof forward and struck Caracal on her throat. He hit her on the exact same spot one of his bodyguards had seized less than twenty minutes earlier. She trembled, but she did not lose her balance. Once she was facing Raoul, she moved in to attack him again.
The two of them were quickly engrossed in a heated scuffle. Raoul was larger and stronger than Caracal, but she was the more agile and more skillful one. Both of them were equally determined to put the other in a world of pain.
However, their dispute was playful wrestling compared to the confrontation going on just five meters away from them.
Only seconds after Caracal and Raoul started exchanging blows, Walther and Maelstrom engaged each other in combat as well. The fight between them was nothing short of deadly.
For the first thirty seconds, they both delivered and blocked a multitude of fierce blows. At one point, Maelstrom socked Walther below his throat. The veteran Wonderbolt almost got the wind knocked out of him. Before he even had a chance to recover, Maelstrom thwacked him on the side of his face and kicked him between his front legs.
After that, Walther collapsed onto his stomach. As he struggled to get back on his hooves, Maelstrom leered down at him "Had enough, old stallion?"
"I'm just getting warmed up," Walther assertively pronounced. Then he delivered a swift uppercut to Maelstrom's chin. That single blow almost knocked the claret stallion onto his back. That gave Walther enough time to stand up and collect himself. Once he was up, he spat out a bit of blood. Then he lowered his head and rammed it against Maelstrom's chest.
Their bout only got more intense from here. However, the conflict between Raoul and Caracal was reaching its end.
In the past few minutes, both of them had inflicted a great of damage onto each other. Raoul was bleeding from his muzzle, Caracal sported a black eye, and both of them were covered with bruises.
The fight reached its climax when Raoul gripped Caracal by her front and back and flung her onto the ground. While she was on her stomach, he got on top of her and held her down.
She tried throwing him off, but he had her pinned down.
Raoul smirked and cheekily stated "This remind you of anything?"
She was not even going to dignify that with a response. She just glared at him out of the corner of her eye and demanded "Get off. NOW."
"I don't think I will," he uttered calmly.
At this time, Caracal's wings were expanded. Raoul was lying directly between them. He took a moment to look at them. Then he smirked again and observed "These wings haven't changed a bit since the last time I saw them. Nice to see you've kept them in good shape."
"It's thanks to them that I was able to spy on you," Caracal informed him smugly.
"What a surprise that you were given the most difficult assignment again," Raoul sarcastically remarked, "How ironic it ended up like this. I suppose you never thought I'd be lying between these wings a second time."
"No, I didn't," Caracal illuminated, "Especially since I didn't like it the first time."
"Oh, don't be like that," Raoul impishly encouraged her, "You may have been doing your job when we last saw each other. But do you expect me to believe you were just following orders that one night? No, you didn't have to go that far to gain my trust."
"Well, I did go that far," Caracal shamelessly admitted, "It was worth it to bring you down."
"I'll bet it was worth it," Raoul taunted her. He leaned in closer to her and whispered "Admit it. When you came to my room that night… you enjoyed it."
The moment he uttered those words, Caracal felt a twist of rage rising up inside her. She reared her body backwards and flung Raoul off of her. He only sailed a few feet through the air before he collapsed onto the ground. When Caracal turned to face him, her countenance was lined with fury. She jumped onto him and began pelting his face with blows. She struck him over and over and over until she had virtually beaten him senseless. When she finally relented, he was still conscious. He still had the same wicked smirk on his face, too.
"Well, go on," he beckoned her weakly yet disdainfully, "Finish it."
"No, I don't think so," she declared triumphantly, "We need you alive. I'm not going to disobey a direct order just so I can get some retribution."
"I thought so," Raoul commented. He sounded strangely disappointed when he said that.
Although the conflict between Raoul and Caracal had ended, the clash between Walther and Maelstrom was far from over.
The mahogany stallion had just decked the claret stallion in the center of his cheek. His punch was so powerful that he managed to knock out one of Maelstrom's teeth when he delivered it. However, apart from that, Maelstrom was not slowed down in the least.
A moment later, he realized that his employer had been beaten. He was impelled to intercede and defend him. But first, he had to deal with Walther.
When the veteran Wonderbolt threw another blow at him, Maelstrom dodged it and moved around him. Then he grabbed ahold of one of Walther's wings and bent the top part of it backwards.
Walther shouted in agony as he felt the digits in his upper wing become displaced. Maelstrom took the opportunity to strike him behind his knees to knock him off his hooves again. This attack had the intended effect; Walther dropped to the ground and moaned in pain.
While he was down, Maelstrom focused his attention on Caracal. At the moment, her back was turned to him. He pulled out a knife from his jacket, raised it in the air, and aimed for the back of the sky blue Pegasus' head.
Just before he could throw the knife, Walther regained his bearings and stopped him. He lifted his hind legs and bucked Maelstrom in his stallionhood. This move also had the intended effect. Maelstrom shrieked in displeasure, dropped his knife, and collapsed onto his knees.
Walther got up and began punching Maelstrom repeatedly on his head and chest. He did not stop until the claret stallion was offering no resistance. But even then, Walther was not done with Maelstrom. Once he was certain that the bodyguard could not fight back, the veteran Wonderbolt finished him off.
Walther then stood behind Maelstrom, wrapped his left front hoof around his throat, gripped him by the right side of his face, and gave his head a sharp twist. A resounding "crunch" sound echoed on the roof, indicating that Maelstrom's neck had been broken.
The claret stallion's body crumpled onto the ground. Walther gazed down at it and stood over it triumphantly. He grinned in pleasure at his victory. Of course, it was difficult to be pleased whilst experiencing aches and shortness of breath. Walther examined his injuries and started taking in deep breaths to even out his labored respiration.
Once he composed himself, Walther slowly trotted over to Raoul and Caracal.
"Are you alright, sir?" the sky blue Pegasus asked the mahogany Pegasus.
"I'm fine," he assured her, "What about you?"
"Yeah, I'm okay," Caracal informed him.
"She's way more than okay," Raoul sneered.
"Shut up," Caracal grumbled, kicking him in the side.
Raoul was already in enough pain that this blow had very little effect on him. He just coughed once and scoffed in amusement.
Walther knelt down next to him and calmly told him "As I was saying, you are under arrest for high crimes against Equestria… Sir Raoul Jowl."
"Very well," Raoul Jowl willingly coincided, holding his front legs up in surrender, "I won't offer any more resistance. I'm all yours."
"Smart thinking," Walther stated in approval. He paused for a moment, and then he lifted his left front hoof up to his earpiece and proclaimed "This is Omicron-9 to all units. The operation's objective has been achieved. We have both suspects in custody. Repeat. The operation's objective has been achieved. We have both suspects in custody. Everypony rendezvous in the lobby in ten minutes."
Over the next few seconds, the other seven members of the team responded with "Acknowledged."
All of them spoke this word with a notable amount of contentment and pride in their voices.
Once Walther heard from everypony in the team, he rose to his full height, turned to Caracal, and told her "Keep an eye on him. I'm going to notify Omicron-10 and Omicron-11."
"You got it, sir," Caracal affirmed.
Walther then trotted back to the south end of the roof. He had shut his briefcase shortly before Caracal arrived on the roof. He pulled out his key, used it to reopen the case, and retrieved the blackboard. He picked up the marker and wrote on the blackboard a single word: Success.
The word quickly vanished from the blackboard. Ten seconds later the following words appeared on it:
Splendid. Any casualties?
Walther erased the blackboard and wrote Omicron-6 and myself have sustained minor injuries. Nothing fatal.
These words soon disappeared as well. Bronze Star's response to them was this:
Good to know. What about the other side?
Walther wrote small to fit the following three sentences on the board:
All five extraneous units have been liquidated. Material Study is unconscious. The buyer has been beaten, but he's still coherent and articulate.
These words gradually faded away. Walther had to wait a big longer for a reply this time. Then Bronze Star gave him this:
Outstanding work, Omicron-9. So who is the buyer?
Walther hesitated for a moment. Then he wrote Our old acquaintance Sir Raoul Jowl.
This time after the words left the board, Walther waited even longer than before. Apparently, Bronze Star and SIG Sauer were just as surprised to discover this fact as the mahogany Pegasus had been.
Ultimately, he was given this:
Understood. You know what to do next.
Walther finished the discussion by writing down Acknowledged. I'll check in again soon.
After these words evaporated, Walther returned the blackboard to his briefcase, shut the lid, and locked it back up. Then he picked up his case, placed it on his back, and trotted over to the northern section of the roof.
He gripped Raoul Jowl by his right shoulder and lifted him up to his hooves. Then he remarked sardonically "Hope you feel like traveling. We've got a train to catch in a little while."
"Oh, joy," Raoul cheekily declared, "Where are we going?"
"The same place you planned to go after your meeting," Walther apprised him.
"The capital city?" Raoul presumed.
"Correct," Walther affirmed, "But you'll be going there under very different circumstances than you the ones you originally intended."
"I suspected as much," Raoul candidly professed.
There was a note of frustration in his voice, but he seemed relatively indifferent. Interestingly, Raoul Jowl appeared to undergo a complete personality change. During the meeting with Material Study, he had been extremely timid and overcautious, and he had been vocal about his fear of being apprehended by the authorities. Yet at this time, he did not seem the least bit nervous or unsettled by the fact that he was now in federal custody.
Walther and Caracal swiftly escorted Raoul Jowl down the stairs. When they reached the lobby, they rendezvoused with the rest of the Firebrand Regiment.
Material Study was still unconscious. In order to easily move him around, Heckler and Koch were both giving him a helping hoof.
Ruger and Glock were explaining the situation to the hotel's head of security. At Ruger's request, he had cut off the ventilation to Room 1128, allowing the toxic smoke in there to be successfully contained. Just to be safe, the head of security also ordered his staff to evacuate the guards in the adjoining rooms.
Beretta had arrived just a few seconds prior. She had been the only member of the Regiment who had not set hoof in or on the building during the operation. When the toxic smoke was produced, she had used her firing apparatus to take out the latch on top of the open window. That had allowed the window to slam shut and keep the smoke from spreading to the exterior of the building. Even after that, she had kept her eye on the suite for every moment until Walther gave the all-clear. Once he did, she had packed up her firing apparatus and climbed down the building across the street.
The only members of the group that were not preoccupied with anything were Peacemaker and Carabine. However, that changed once Caracal and Walther arrived on the ground floor. The two Unicorns quickly approached the two Peagsi. Peacemaker noticed straightaway that they were injured.
"Are you two alright?" he inquired anxiously.
"You be the judge," Caracal drily retorted, "You're the medic, after all."
"Very well," Peacemaker coincided, "I should give you both a complete medical evaluation."
"You can do that later, Peacemaker," Walther declared.
Although Peacemaker was primarily focused on Caracal and Walther, Carabine had his attention on the stallion they were escorting. He stepped up to Raoul Jowl and crossly remarked "Well, this is an unpleasant surprise."
"Tell me about it," Raoul flippantly observed. He gazed around the lobby and noticed the other members of the Firebrand Regiment. He scoffed and pronounced "Well isn't this sweet? Looks like almost everypony's here. The only one who's missing is SIG Sauer. Has he been promoted or something?"
"No, he's just busy elsewhere," Caracal proclaimed.
"Well, next time you see him, tell him I said he can go buck himself," Raoul harshly quipped.
"You can tell him that yourself when we get to Canterlot," Walther wittily countered, "Until then, I'd suggest you keep your mouth shut. Otherwise, somepony else will shut it for you."
"Whatever you say, General," Raoul muttered irritably.
Shortly after this, the Firebrand Regiment departed from the Rosebud Hotel. Earlier that morning, Walther had contacted the Municipal Building and asked them to keep one of their holding cells vacant. The sheriff had been more than willing to comply with this request.
When they arrived at the Municipal Building, the Firebrand Regiment secured Raoul Jowl and Material Study in the holding cell. Heckler, Koch, and Glock were assigned to keep watch over the two stallions.
The next item of business was the matter of Material Study's chemicals. Since they were already at the Municipal Building, Walther decided to inform the sheriff of the presence of the compounds. He asked for the sheriff's assistance in acquiring the stash. The sheriff was able to spare half a dozen of his deputies to bring in the chemicals. These six officers went with Peacemaker, Beretta, and Caracal to recover the stash from the pawn shop.
At this time, Ruger, Carabine, and Walther were the only members of the Firebrand Regiment who were available. The three of them stood in the foyer of the Municipal Building and lounged there for a while.
"All in a day's work, huh?" Ruger commented.
"Yeah, it's certainly been a busy day," Carabine agreed.
"Well, the day's not over yet," Walther pointed out, "Neither is our work."
"What do you mean, General?" Carabine inquired in perplexity.
"Before we head back to Canterlot, there's somepony I must speak to," Walther clarified.
"Who?" Ruger queried in interest.
"Some self-proclaimed travelling performer," Walther expounded, "She might be able to help us with a different matter of national security."
"Oh, alright then," Ruger stated, "Where is she?"
"Assuming she followed my instructions, she should be somewhere in this building," Walther thought aloud.
"She's right behind you, General," came a blunt voice from behind the mahogany Pegasus.
Walther turned around and came face-to-face with the brilliant azure mare. He lightly grinned and pronounced "Hello, Trixie. I see you're still referring to yourself in third-person."
"I know; I'm trying to break myself of the habit," Trixie informed him. She had noticed that the Wonderbolt was covered in minor injuries. "What happened to you? Were you in a bar fight?"
"Not quite," Walther replied, "You may recall I told you that I had some other business to attend to in Hoofingon. My current appearance is a result of that business."
"I don't think I want to know about it," Trixie perceived.
"Good," Walther commented, "Because even if you asked, I couldn't tell you."
"Then why don't we talk about something else?" Trixie proposed, "Case in point, I want to discuss that bargain we made."
"Very well," the mahogany Pegasus concurred, "I've already replaced everything you lost, including your trailer. I had all the goods transported here yesterday. They should be here by now."
"They are," Trixie affirmed, "I've been staying here as the town's guest for the past day. Shortly after I arrived, the sheriff informed me that a bunch of stuff was delivered here, and all of it was addressed to me. I looked over the contents, and I must say, I was very pleased with what I saw."
"I'm glad to hear that," Walther stated, "Once you fulfill your part of the agreement, all those goods are yours."
"Okay," Trixie said in understanding, "What must I do to earn them?"
Walther removed his briefcase from his back, opened it up, pulled out the photograph of Dense Miasma's cutie mark, and held it up to the brilliant azure mare. He told her "For starters, I'd like to know how you became acquainted with this symbol."
When Trixie saw the picture, she became a little uneasy. Her discomfort did not go unnoticed by the veteran Wonderbolt. After a short period of silence, he beckoned her with "Well?"
She merely sighed and informed him "Okay, I'll tell you. It may take a while to explain everything, though."
"That's fine by me," Walther assured her, "I've got all day."
Trixie softly nodded her head. There was another interval of quietness, and then she began her explanation: "As you know, I wasn't in Hoofington when the Ursa Major attack on the city took place. I didn't even know about the attack until I arrived here. That was months after it happened. I heard all about the fiasco from the locals. I was intrigued by their vivid description of it. I was even more intrigued by their account of how it was resolved."
"I understand what you mean," Walther commented, "I read the report on the attack before I came here. While many of the witnesses' testimonies were contradictory in most places, all of them seemed to match on one single point. They all agreed that it was because of a lone Unicorn that the attack was averted."
"That's right," Trixie confirmed, "Did your report say how she managed to save the town?"
"No, the witnesses' testimonies greatly differed over that," Walther recalled, "Some say she repelled it, some say she subjugated it, some say she destroyed it."
"All of those claims are wrong," Trixie apprised him, "When I was here, I asked around and I managed to get the truth from the locals. You know what she actually did?"
"What?" Walther enquired in interest.
"She just trotted up to the Ursa Major in the midst of its rampage," Trixie elucidated, "Once she was standing in front of it, it stopped wreaking havoc on the city and focused on her. They both stood totally still for about a minute, and then the Ursa Major turned around and marched back to the Everfree Forest. Nopony could explain how she did it. From what they could see, she didn't even cast a spell on the Ursa."
"Now that is nothing short of astonishing," Ruger proclaimed.
"I'm inclined to agree," Carabine muttered.
"Did any of the locals say what the mare did after the Ursa retreated?" Walther asked Trixie.
"Yes," she informed him, "They wanted to show her their appreciation, but she didn't even stay around long enough for them to say 'thank you.' Less than a minute after the Ursa Major went into the Everfree Forest, she ran into it, as well. Nopony went after her. However, I was so fascinated by the Unicorn's actions that I was compelled to seek her out. So after I got the whole story, I went into the Everfree Forest to look for her. I was out there for hours, but eventually, I found her."
"Let me stop you right there," Walther interjected, "While this is all very intriguing, what does this have to do with the symbol?"
"The Unicorn was wearing the symbol around her neck," Trixie enlightened him.
Walther's eyes lit up at that revelation. "She was?"
"Yes, it was imprinted on the trinket of a necklace she wore," Trixie affirmed.
Walther gazed off to the side and rubbed his chin. Then he looked back to the brilliant azure mare and questioned "Do you remember what she looked like?"
"She had a black coat, an auburn mane, and ruby irises," Trixie recounted, "Her cutie mark was an ocular lens."
Walther removed the photograph of Hazy Wisp from his briefcase. He held it up for Trixie to see and asked "Is this her?"
Trixie studied the photograph for a moment, and then she answered "Yes, that's her."
"Did you talk to her?" Walther queried.
"Yeah, but only for a couple minutes," she replied, "I asked her how she managed to overpower the Ursa Major. She claimed she just 'willed' the monster to leave the town alone. I asked her to specify how she came to possess such an ability. She told me that she acquired it from the 'glory of night.' I then asked her if she could teach me that ability or tell me how I could learn it. She claimed she would have been more than willing to share the knowledge with me. But there was a condition attached."
"What?" said Walther in concern.
"She wanted me to 'join their cause,'" Trixie explicated, "Before she taught me anything, she said I would have to devote myself to her organization of 'believers in darkness.' As appealing as the rewards of her offer sounded, I felt that she was asking a little too much of me. So I told her that I would need some time to think about it."
"It's a good thing you didn't accept her offer," Walther disclosed, "This mare is a political dissident. This organization of hers is nothing more than a cult of Nightmare Moon's most dangerous and most obsessive followers."
Trixie was alarmed to hear this. She sighed and mumbled "I should have known something was up with that mare."
"At least now you know," Walther asserted, "Did she tell you where you could find her if you decided to accept her offer?"
"Actually, yes," Trixie recollected, "She said I could find her in the same place I met her before."
"Excellent," Walther commented, "Do you suppose you could take me there?"
"Sure I could," Trixie responded, "But I doubt she's still there; it's been months since I encountered her."
"I realize that," Walther thought aloud, "However, this mare is involved in a huge conspiracy against the government. Even if we cannot find her, at least we'll have another possible lead to continue our investigation."
"That is a good point," Trixie admitted. After a brief interval of silence, she stated "Okay, General. I'll take you to where I last saw the mare. But I would prefer it if we did not go alone."
"Can't say I blame you," the mahogany Pegasus pronounced. He turned to his colleagues and announced "I'm going to go with Trixie to the Everfree Forest. Carabine, I want you to accompany us as backup. Ruger, you stay here. You're in command of the Regiment until we get back."
"I'm with you, General," the aqua blue Unicorn declared.
"Understood, General," the taupe Earth Pony acknowledged.
Walther nodded his head in approval. Then he, Trixie, and Carabine departed from the Municipal Building and made their way to the Everfree Forest. He did not know what they would come across in that overgrown wasteland, but he was confident that they would find something that would lead them somewhere. Somehow.