Manehattan – Docksides – Early Evening
A ruby red sunset glinted off the looming buildings, skyscrapers, and apartment complexes. Several blocks, train tracks, and smoggy smokestacks away, a lone yellow chariot was pulled to a stop in a dingy intersection of rust-brown warehouses.
The stallion paused for a moment to catch his breath. Adjusting his yellow cap, the pony looked over his shoulder. "Here we are, Miss! Eighth and Buck Street!"
"Mmmm... uhm... y-yes..." Shuffling, Satin Cynders struggled to hop out of the taxi. This was mostly due to the copious amount of thick scarves and bulky cloaks she was wearing around her otherwise petite figure. "Thank you very much. That will do."
The stallion squinted. "Say, what's with the beekeeper getup anyways?" He bore a gruff smirk. "You from Afghanistallion or something?"
"Ungh..." The reporter rolled her blue eyes, fumbled around in her cloak, and produced several bits. "Here you go. And a little bit extra to forget that you were ever here."
"Golly... I'm all for a special tip and all, lady, but are you sure you don't want me to—like—stick around and make this a two-way trip for ya?" His eyes reflected the darkening silhouettes of buildings against the setting sun. "I'm not sure if you've ever been here before, but this ain't exactly Canter 21."
"Yes," Satin grunted. A golden lock of hair dripped out of her hood and she tucked it back in. "I'm sure. If anypony asks—I was never here."
"Heh... your funeral." The stallion smirked. "Lemme guess... stallion back at home has been fooling around so now you're out here to club the mistress."
Satin clinched her teeth. "I'm not married."
"Whew!" The stallion tipped his hat and galloped off. "Now there's an even bigger crime than I thought!" A mischievous whistle, and the grizzly pony disappeared amidst the urban muck.
"Unff..." Satin groaned inwardly as she trotted along. "I hate being attractive."
Fog horns echoed in the distance. Seagulls shrieked for a bit, then were silent. The haunting melody of buoy bells formed a continuous cadance.
Satin kept to the shadows, hugging the grimy walls of half-abandoned warehouses as she made her swift way west. At last, she came upon the concrete edge of the Manhattan landscape. She looked down into a straight fifteen foot drop into the Haydson River, lined with tugboats and fishing ships pressed compactly together, bobbing as one.
The waters of the Haydson rippled red—one last ominous wink of the dying day. Barges hovered in the distance, and when Satin glanced past them, she could see the hazy gray line of Neigh Jersey beyond, lined with twinkling lights.
She took a deep breath—then instantly regretted it.
"Mmmfff..." Her muzzle scrunched. "...why I can't I snoop out a crime story in a flower garden? Just once?"
Just then—
Swoooooooosh!
—a green body streaked behind her, landing nimbly with a flicker of blonde mane hairs. "Boo!"
"Aaack!" Satin Cinders jumped clear off her hooves. She landed, fishing wildly around her cloak. In the process, no less than five loaded cans of mace landed on the concrete beneath her—slipping from her grip. "Dammit—!"
"Haa-haa-haa-haa!" Lightning Dust laughed raspily, bending over to slap her knee. "Holllly shit, girl!" She pointed at the cans while they were still rattling to a stop. "The Hell were you packing to take out?! A hydra?!"
"Grrrrr..." Satin snarled. "That wasn't funny! Do you have any idea what happens to lone ponies in the middle of a place like this?"
"Uhhhh... actually? I was gonna ask the same about you." Lightning Dust cocked her head aside. "I thought I told you to dress inconspicuously."
"I am dressed inconspicuously."
"Tch... for real?" Lighting Dust plucked at the edges of Satin's cloaks. "In this mummy get up?! Are you here to stage a sting operation or flirt with a camel?"
"Lightning..."
"Why's it that everypony but me needs to learn how to calm down and think sensibly?" Lightning smirked. "Lose a few of them fabrics, Cindy. If shit hits the fan, you don't want to be tripping over yourself."
Grumbling, Satin yanked her hood down, freeing her blonde tresses in the evening air. "If my informant didn't act like a juvenile delinquent, then maybe I'd not have any reason to run in the first place!"
"Shhhhhhh... calm your crotchtits. I've told you once and I'll tell you once again! I've got this in the bag!" Lightning peered down the line of warehouses. "The exchange will be happening in about two hours. We're lucky. Let's revel in it."
"I'm not here to revel in anything, Lightning. I'm here to expose a massive crime organization, and you're all I have to depend on—"
"Yeah yeah." Lightning waved a hoof, yawning. "You got the stone?"
Taking a deep breath, Satin reached into her cloaks and produced an enchanted shard. "Here it is."
Lightning did a double-take. "Cheese and crackers, lady! This thing's the size of a hippo's vibrator!" She grimaced. "How the Hell am I supposed to hide that on my body?!"
"I told you the size of it before!" Satin whispered loudly, shoving the sound stone into Lightning's grip. "You told me to 'relax' and that you would 'make do.'"
"Really? I did? When was that?"
"Tuesday."
"Wow. I had a lotta balls on Tuesday." Lightning took the shard with a smile. "Well, in that case, the morons will never sniff out what's listening to them. You gonna be okay on your end?"
Satin parted her robe to reveal a rectangular receiver, complete with tape recording equipment. "I'll have to remain stationary and within three blocks of your position. Now..." She gulped. "Where exactly is the Jasmine Enterprises warehouse where the exchange will be taking place?"
Lightning turned and pointed south. "Over in that direc—wait." She spun around completely. "Over there! The building with the brown water tower on the top. Heheh... my bad."
"Unnngh..." Satin face-hoofed.
"Hey..." Lightning leaned in and hugged a forelimb around her shoulder. "Relax! You and me? We're doing an awesome thing here!" She winked. "Lots of innocent ponies' lives are gonna be spared and all that sappy shit."
"I wish being heroic didn't feel so positively idiotic," Satin said.
"Eh... that's just society's standards bitchin' at ya in your head."
Satin squinted at her. "Society's standards or common sense."
"Eh..." Lighting waved a hoof. "I prefer to listen to neither." She smiled. "My best friend is adrenaline."
Satin sighed. "I was afraid of that."
Lighting raised an eyebrow. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"
"Only that I wished we had more ponies on on this." The reporter cleared her throat. "Your friend, for example."
"Hey. Buck him." Lightning's nostrils flared. "If the guy can't take the risks to get a decent job done, then I wonder how he even manages as a guard in the first place. Besides... we're better off just the two of us. Don't wanna make too many waves, y'know?"
"Harmony forbid..."
"Anyways, you'd better go find a lofty place to position your receiver. Me?" Lightning juggled the sound stone and flapped her wings, taking off. "I've got a date with Jasmine's henchies tonight. Don't wanna disappoint."
"Just be careful," Satin said.
The reply was a dry chuckle, and then Lightning was a distant speck over the warehouse buildings.
Standing alone, Satin felt a nervous chill. She sighed and started searching for exposed fire escapes. "Could be scarier," she muttered to herself. "At least there isn't a creepy desert nearby to drag my body."