Mac was up before the sun the next day. If the madame wanted this stallion dead, he supposed he had no choice. He had wrestled with the moral dilemma of killing a pony not connected with his mission all night.
Ah suppose this is just another stop on the way... he thought, dressing himself in the dingy room given to him by his new employer. A shuffling sound distracted him. A newspaper slid beneath the door with a note tied around it, a last known location of his target, and a grainy photograph. He took the paper, removing the note and stowing it in the pocket of his duster. He tossed the paper on the bed, but took a second glance once he caught the headline.
ARMY OF THE SUN SWELLS IN RANKS! WORLD POWERS TAKE SIDES AS TENSIONS MOUNT!
Mac's jaw hung slack as he scanned through the opening paragraphs.
The kidnapping of a vital part of the equestrian national defense six months ago has finally warranted a swift and just response from the crown. The army of the sun's ranks continue to grow as recruits flock to punish those who would commit crimes against the kingdom.
The lawless territory newspapers usually had a pro-equestria slant, but Mac couldn't doubt the truth in black and white. He knew at the outset of his mission that it would only be a matter of time before word of Rainbow's disappearance became public knowledge. Once that happened, he knew the Princesses would have to do something.
He would have never guessed that something was rebuild the Equestrian army. Further down the page, a picture of his wife and son stared back at him. His time was running out. Mac knew an invasion would only complicate things.
"Another ponies blood on your hooves."
Mac cut his eyes to the old victorian chair in the corner. The light from the lantern didn't quite reach, though there was no need for it. He knew who was sitting there.
"He knew what was coming. I gave him the choice."
A bright red point of light rose, and then rested on the chair's arm as a cloud of smoke veiled the shadowy figure. "You sure didn't hesitate, did you?"
Mac hated when he showed up. "You know what happens when you hesitate."
A scoff echoed from the corner. "Yeah, I do. So, have you thought about what I said?"
Mac's face twisted into a snarl. "Ah ain't a murderer."
"You don't think so?" The figure leaned out of the shadows. "You know what murderers do, don't you?" Mac stared back at the face that he saw every day in the mirror. "They kill. You've killed." His dark passenger sat back, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Connect the dots."
Mac and Bentgrass arrived at the castle in the dead of night. As they stepped off the chariot, they passed numerous pairs of guards, each saluting as they passed.
"This gets tiresome, trust me." Bentgrass said, noticing Mac watching as he returned every salute they received.
"So, where exactly are we going?"
"Mr. Apple, I'm guessing all you know about this castle is that it's where the princesses live, am I correct?" Bentgrass said over his shoulder.
"Well... I mean..." Mac began.
"Take no offense, Mr. Apple, I meant none by it. In fact, if you had known what goes on in the castle basements I'd have had you arrested for espionage."
They came to a door with the sun and moon carved upon it, and no visible means of opening.
"We own the shadows." Bentgrass spoke, and a silver light traced the sun and moon, and then became a portal. Mac stared in awe as he turned to him. "After you."
Mac stepped into a brightly lit room, with all manner of ponies in labcoats working and testing various newfangled equipment.
"Welcome, Mr. Apple, to a room that does not exist. This is the Special Services Division headquarters," Bentgrass explained, walking past the scientists paying no attention to either of them. Macintosh wagered Twilight would give her new wings to get a peek into this room. Bentgrass kept walking until they reached another door, though this one actually had handles.
Upon opening it, they were greeted by Princess Luna herself, sitting on a rather ornate onyx throne, her symbology carved into it, as well as the rest of the room. Macintosh instantly bowed his head.
"Arise, Macintosh Apple. I have heard of your plight," Luna replied. Bentgrass bowed as well.
"Your Highness, as you can see, Mr. Apple has accepted your offer."
Mac raised an eyebrow. "I did?"
"Macintosh, there is more to your loved ones disappearance than you know. In fact, far bigger players had their hoof in this crime than you may realize."
"I don't understand, who would want to hurt Rainbow?"
Luna frowned. "It is not Rainbow they wish to harm, but Equestria itself. For now we have kept this news from the public, but it will not remain that way." The princess began pacing in her office as she continued. "Soon, ponies will find out, and war will be inevitable. Celestia's hoofs will be tied, and an invasion will be the only option. At this moment, there is a fragile trail of breadcrumbs you may be able to follow, a chance for you to stop a war before it begins."
"What the Princess means is, we have a few leads, and we need an operative to follow up on them. We believe you to be the perfect stallion for the job."
Mac was stunned. "Me? But, I ain't no secret agent, I'm a farmer! How'm I supposed to stop a war all by myself?"
"We can train you, we can equip you, but most importantly, we can give you the authority to act as the will of the princesses," Bentgrass explained. "But, how you act with that authority, is up to you."
Mac looked back to the Princess. "Macintosh, your wife has saved our nation and the world, hundreds of times, but now, she needs you to come to her rescue. Will you take up this most important task?"
He knew the answer before she even finished speaking.
"I will."
Mac found his way into old town that morning, a reported hangout of his target. From what he'd gathered, old town was where you went when you had nothing left to lose. It had more bums than Mac had ever seen in Equestria. This was squalor like he'd never witnessed. Ponies, griffons, dragons, you name it, living under bridges, beneath cardboard boxes and overpasses and even on park benches. Everyone he came across seemed to be emaciated, begging him for a spare bit, or appearing as though they'd mug him, should he refuse. Or, at least, try to mug him anyway.
The haggard old madame from the brothel not only wanted this stallion dead, she wanted proof. That proof had to be a bolo tie his target was never seen without, and the bloody crossbow bolt that killed him. According to her, she wanted to mount it over her bar. Truth be told, Mac couldn't care less about what she wanted to do with it. He was after information, and information only.
The further he walked into old town, the more dilapidated it became. Abandoned buildings dotted the streets between the few stores still struggling to make money, and fires from vagrant camps gave the air an acrid stench, as it smelled as though the bums had taken to burning trash, and street debris, instead of wood.
Mac scanned the droves of worn and weathered faces, but had only the photograph she'd given him to go by. After asking around, he managed to get a last known location of his target. In an alleyway, behind and abandoned saloon and gambling house, he found not a stallion, but a colt. A young pony probably barely an adult, sitting in front of a barrel full of burning trash to keep warm, staring at a small box in his hoof. Mac walked up behind him.
"Are you Tumble Weed?" He nearly startled the poor colt out of his skin. Quickly, he scrambled to his hooves.
"Y-yes, I don't want no trouble, mister," Tumble said, trying his hardest to sound tough. Mac failed to realize how intimidating he must look in his traveling outfit. He was far from the simple, soft spoken stallion he been what seemed like a lifetime ago.
"You know madame Flowers?" he asked sternly. As the seconds ticked by, he began to realize this wasnt his fight.
"I do," the colt said, clearly summoning his courage from the deepest pit of his stomach.
Mac stepped towards him. "You been puttin' hooves on her mares?"
"W-what? No! I've never hurt anypony!" He admitted. It made sense. This was a fairly lithe young stallion, and Mac wagered some of the mares would probably be able to take him on if he ever got rough with them.
"Alright, any reason madame Flowers wants you dead?"
"Dead?!" The color drained from his face. "I... it's Peach Blossom."
Mac raised an eyebrow. "Who is Peach Blossom?"
Tumble hesitated. "She's my fiancé. Or, she would be, if I could get to her." He showed Mac the small box with a tiny engagement earring in it in the shape of a tumbleweed. "I knew Flowers didn't like me around her best bartender, but I never thought she'd want me dead. We were gonna get out of this dead end town and start a new life somewhere."
Mac had been had. He certainly wasn't about to end an innocent life, but he needed whatever information madame Flowers had. "Listen she sent me here to kill you—" The colt stumbled backwards. "But I'm not going to!" he completed. "But we need a plan to make her think that. You'll probably need to leave town."
"Leave town? I can't leave without my sweet Peach!" Tumble protested.
"Look, what makes you think she'd want to leave her job and run away with you anyway?"
Tumble shook his head. "She ain't working there because she wants to. She's working off debt to Madame Flowers, but she doesn't make enough to get herself out from under it, and she adds to it every day!"
Mac thought for a moment, before rolling up a sleeve, revealing his hidden crossbow. He removed a bolt and took it in his hoof. "Gimme your leg," He said, taking it rather than waiting for Tumble to offer.
"Hey, what—Ow!" Mac drug the tip of the bolt across Tumble's leg, drawing a crimson line of blood out of his light blue fur.
"She wants proof of your death, so I'm also gonna need your bolo tie." He looked as though he'd just asked him to remove his skin.
"But it's all I have to my name! Besides the earring, this is all I got!"
Mac leveled with him. "Do you want to see Peach Blossom again or not?"
Tumble sighed. "I do..." he slowly removed his only article of clothing and gave it to Mac.
"Now, stay here until nightfall, and meet me outside the saloon at high moon. I gotta plan to make sure you and Peach get outta here, without Flowers bein' any the wiser until you two are long gone."
Rainbow's head was pounding. The first sense she regained was smell, and the dankness of her dungeon filled her nostrils, giving the air a weight. She then realized she was laying on a cold, stone floor, with the icy grip of a shackle around her left hind leg. Dash forced her eyes open, spying a small, yellow colt next to her. Every sense awakened as she scrambled to her son, rousing him from his slumber.
"Zap! Zap, are you okay, can you here me?"
"M-mom?" He asked sleepily. "Where are we?"
"Allow me to answer that," A sickeningly familiar voice replied from the shadows. "you are my prisoners," The queen of the changelings stepped from the shadows. "In the royal hive."