Mare-Do-Well: Everfree

by PaddedCell

Chapter Six: Break-In

"I don't know what you think you're playin' at, kid. We got a war to fight out there on the streets, and you lost the shipment of ammo? Dammit, those were sixteen cases of ammo! You get that shit back, or you're out on the street again, pal." A grim stallion roared at a stony-faced colt. Entering the main hall, the two resistance members and Scootaloo were just in time to stop the colt from getting himself shot for talking back, failure to deliver, or both.
"Whoa, hold on.. What's the big deal here?" Ironwork reasoned with the angry stallion, who was evidently the boss.
"The 'big deal' is that this little twerp over here lost our shipment of ammo." The stallion yelled, pointing a hoof. Scootaloo, who had been watching the events unfold, now let her eyes roam the headquarters of the resistance movement. It was a manmade structure, and evidently it had existed long before the resistance itself. At a guess, it must have been some underground storage area or basement for one of the businesses in the former city of Canterlot - Though the entryway to the building above seemed to have been blocked with debris, a possible result of the building's collapse or demolition. Crates littered the place, and tables were set up for gun maintenance and planning. A few side-rooms were accessible via doors set into the walls of the main hall. Flickering neon lighting illuminated the place, and the rebels hard at work within. However, a smashing of glass tore her from her observation before long. The boss had tossed a glass bottle at the wall.
"I've had it up to here with unreliable troops. You wanna fight the fight, man? Be my guest, dammit." The stallion called out, storming into a side-room and slamming the door behind him with a rear-bound buck of the hoof.
"Who's that guy?" Scootaloo asked Heather quietly. Ironwork began talking to the ammunition delivery colt.
"He's called Tarnish.. Well, we call him Tarn. He's the head of the resistance movement, and our figurehead. We're hoping he'll lead us to a victory sometime soon.. But then again.. He does have a short fuse. That isn't wonderful to have in a job that requires slow, logical planning." Heather explained, sitting back on a crate. Ironwork returned to them.
"Well, it looks like we got ourselves a problem. The mail-kid here managed to get his transport van and its contents confiscated by the Street Mares while getting our outside ammo supplies from the sewers to here." He muttered.
"Sewers?" Scootaloo asked, raising an eyebrow. Heather explained.
"The sewer tunnels in Everfree lead to a water runoff pipe which dumps the city's unclean water out of the waterfall near Ponyville, where it's pumped from the reservoir at the bottom into a water treatment plant. We can have our associates outside the city manufacture and supply us with fresh ammunition at regular intervals, to keep the war going. The runoff pipe happens to be the easiest way to transport ammunition in through the Everfree City walls without hassle. Well, apart from the odd parasprite in the sewer pipes, and maybe the fumes down in the tunnels. Unfortunately, the ammunition can't be transported directly from the sewer tunnels into the HQ - it has to be loaded out of a sewer entrance and transported here via some kind of van, because of its sheer weight." Scootaloo slowly nodded, though thoughts had begun to form inside her head. If she could somehow manage to get out through the city's sewer, perhaps she could find a way back into the Lair, and regain her equipment to join this crusade better equipped. 'Crusade'. Childhood memories flashed inside her head, and her heart ached a little. Still, she didn't need to go searching for a talent anymore, at least. She smiled.
"So if the ammo has been taken by the Street Mares, where would it be now?" She asked.
"That would be the Processing Vault." A scrawny resistance member called out, tossing over a map. Scootaloo unfurled it across the surface of an empty weapon crate.
"That place is guarded, albeit lightly.. Locked down and kept under the authorities' watch. It's where all the confiscated goods go, to be processed before being put into storage for Street Mare use." Ironwork grunted, tapping a hoof down on the map. An idea flashed across Scootaloo's mind.
"They might also be keeping my equipment there. It was only taken a week ago. If I get hold of that, I'll be able to unlock my equipment stores down in the Lair.. It's my own HQ." She added the last part upon seeing the confused faces.
"So the plan is to break in?" Ironwork asked, a cynical tone to his voice. Scootaloo smirked.
"Yep.. This will be easy."

The wind whistled and howled across the rooftops of Everfree as pale moonlight shone down on every tile and carven curve. Now, in the dead of night, Scootaloo moved closer to the Vault. Dressed in a dark raincloak and combat vest similar to Ironwork's attire and armed with a silenced, long-barrelled rifle, she leapt across the rooftops toward her target. Spreading her wings from beneath the cloak, she soared down and across the spaces between streets, swooping gracefully back up to the opposite rooftop and continuing onward. Eventually, the dull grey concrete of the city wall rose up before her, and looking down, she saw it. Nestled away, set into the border wall between two other buildings, was the Processing Vault. A huge corrugated iron door barred entrance from the front, and a pair of guards stood to its sides. On the roof, a concrete tower holding a roving floodlight and its operator, another armed guard. As if this wasn't enough, security cameras dotted the street around the front entrance. Observing all this through a night vision scope she had packed, Scootaloo planned her attack accordingly.

Shrouded in the shadowy, rough cloak around her, with the hood pulled low over her face, Scootaloo darted to the edge of the rooftop she stood upon. Swinging the silenced rifle onto the lip of the roof, she took careful aim. In keeping with tradition, the ammunition she had brought was non-lethal; darts filled with a powerful tranquiliser fluid. Loading the weapon with a clip of ammunition, she aimed down the thermal scope. She fired, a quiet pop of gunfire emitting from the gun's barrel as the dart sailed to meet its mark. The shot lined up perfectly, hitting the guard in the roof tower and knocking him quickly into unconsciousness. Now to bypass the door guards and sneak inside. Feeling around in her combat vest, she pulled out another set of ammo clips. These had been specially issued for the mission, at her request. A different kind of dart, similar to one of her hoof-mounted weapons; darts which would emit a huge electric shock, electrocuting an enemy or scrambling electronic machinery. Loading the rifle, she began firing. A mere few minutes later, the security cameras in the street had been electrocuted into malfunction.
"Now comes the fun part." She muttered to herself. Firing an electrical dart at one door guard, she watched the other run to check on the casualty. Leaping off the rooftop, she glided down to the ground on her wings - landing just behind the concerned guard. Swiftly kicking his right hind leg to destabilise him, she wrapped a hoof around his neck in a chokehold, and cut off his air supply. The moment she felt him shudder and go limp from loss of oxygen, she let him slump to the floor. Now, she could infiltrate the Vault without attracting attention. The front door would not be an option, and so she snuck around the side of the building to take a look for some other entrance. Luckily, a small side-entrance was set into the building, and it had been left unguarded. Taking one look around for good measure, Scootaloo mustered up her courage and slipped inside.