Chapter 6
Gathered at Soarin’s house after the successful operation, Filthy Rich thanked us profusely for rescuing him. I was hoping that would translate into a particularly generous reward, but did not voice that thought out loud.
“Frankly, I’m even more impressed that you got in and out without those thugs even knowing,” he gushed. “I’d call you action heroes, but maybe that’s not even impressive enough.”
“Well, it takes skill to complete the mission without raising an alarm or needing to fire a single bullet,” said Soarin, modestly. Rather unmodestly, he added, “Now, real panache would be bilking the thugs out of a five hundred bit ‘gift’ to ‘misplace’ the gas meter inspection paperwork while signing them up for a new utility plan.”
“Did you actually try to do that?” I asked.
He chuckled. “They don't call me Buck Wingley for nothing. I thought about it, but you were too good at your side of the operation at getting Rich out so I didn’t have time.”
“So why did they kidnap you, anyway?” said Rainbow to Rich.
It took him a few minutes to lay out his side of the story. Soarin had given him a drink and he pulled heavily on it between paragraphs.
“During the hours I was in captivity, I had a lot of time to think about this. I also received a clue when I overheard the gang arguing. A couple of them wanted weapons from me instead of money. Then, one suggested that they get me to give them both money and weapons. That kept them arguing for quite a while.”
“Do you have weapons?” I asked.
“My store sells all manner of things, though the items that some ponies call weapons I call sporting equipment,” he said tactfully. “But I don’t think that was what they were talking about. You see, I had a run in with government suppliers a few years back. This was around the time that Princess Twilight was ascending and who would be protecting Ponyville was called into question if she were to move to Canterlot. So the Royal Guard was looking at perhaps setting up a garrison here. They’d contacted me for supplies. Somewhere, a wire got crossed, and they instead ended up shipping supplies to me - including an entire trainload of clearly-marked military-grade weapons. Of course we sent it all back, but there was a front-page newspaper article and even today ponies occasionally come into the store on the assumption that we sell such things. I keep a file of contact information of various government agencies, just in case.”
I actually remembered this incident. I hadn’t been involved, but in my line of work, the story got around. Particularly because I knew the ponies who’d crossed the wires. Unlike Rich’s assumption...it hadn’t been an accident.
Cover can mean many things, but in the end it boils down to hiding the truth. It can be a fake name. It can be a prop, such as briefcase of blueprints if you’re posing as an architect. It can be a grand public display to distract from the fact that something is going on behind the scenes.
Such as misdirecting a trainload of weapons to Barnyard Bargains, in order to disguise that several crates were instead being passed to ponies like me. A trip like that allowed several opportunities for the paperwork to be creatively modified along the way. I doubted that anypony had planned on there being a newspaper article and the backlash on Rich’s business, but as long as there was no hint about missing weapons, then the operation was a success.
And, I suddenly saw an opening, a connection back to the company.
“Could you get me a copy of the contact information you have?” I asked. If I were lucky, there might be a familiar name there, and now if I could find the right spin, I might have some leverage, or at least a way to open the conversation with somepony so I could ask why I had been put out to pasture.
“Well, I suppose I could do that,” Rich said. He paused. “But I do also owe you quite a substantial reward. You certainly went well above and beyond on the original job I gave you.”
The less he knew the better. I didn’t correct him, just presented him my notes on the Flim Flam brothers to complete the original job for which he'd hired me.
Going beyond that original job, we decided Rich should lay low for a couple of days, until we’d fully dealt with the Third Street Thugs. We made arrangements for him to stay with Soarin.
In the meantime, I caught Diamond Tiara after school the next afternoon.
She seemed surprised to see me stepping out of an alley towards her, and perhaps even more surprised that I knew the route between the school and her mother’s house.
I lowered my sunglasses. Ponies have large eyes, and concealing them can make one seem subconsciously untrustworthy. Not that I particularly needed Diamond to trust me, but I did bring her good news. “You’re father’s safe.”
“Oh thank Celestia!” She let out a giant breath, head dipping towards the ground.
I hadn’t realized she was under such tension, though I probably should have assumed. She hid it well. I said, “I’m surprised you went to school.”
“Well, I couldn’t tell mom anything was wrong.”
I sensed very deep-seated family issues there, and avoided them. “He’s laying low for the moment, but I’ll let you know when you can go back to his house.”
“So you found him? After those stallions took him? What happened?”
I wasn’t sure how much Rich would want his daughter to know, but there was no hiding the fact from Diamond that he had indeed been taken. “Some associates of mine are very good at solving these kinds of problems.”
“So you’re like...secret agents?”
I winced, however accurate that might have been. “Nothing so dramatic. Now that your father is back, I doubt he will want word of this escapade to get around. I’d also ask that you not discuss my involvement.”
“Keep it a secret? So you are a secret agent?” She smiled, the first time I had seen her do so in the short time I had known her. I would have been more reassured if it didn’t hold so much mischief.
Despite that, she was earnest enough. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anypony. I’m just so happy to have daddy back.” She started to shake my hoof, but then just went ahead and hugged.
An embrace from a filly was not exactly the reward I had expected from this job. But Rich seemed generous enough, so I would be sure to get some sort of monetary compensation, too.
That evening, I headed for Rich’s house. The old adage about criminals returning to the scene of the crime is partially true - for example, if they think the pony they kidnapped and who escaped from them might have gone home.
Rainbow was with me. Rich was staying at Soarin’s place and Diamond was at her mother’s, so we had the house to ourselves. We didn’t turn the lights on, just waited around. I helped myself to some yogurt from the refrigerator.
We’d brought some equipment: a few basic night vision sets, tripwires, door braces, and duct tape. Not that we were expecting a battle, but it’s always better to punch above your weight.
Pursuant to that, we rolled heavy tonight.
Being a defender gives you certain advantages. You have time to survey the ground and build up your cover. You don’t need to worry so much about portability and concealability of your weapons.
Ponies will debate to death the relative stopping power of various pistols, but none compare to a shotgun. And, no shotgun can match the accuracy, range, and capacity of a rifle.
Around midnight, when even the birds were quiet, it was easy to hear a few sets of hooves coming up the cobblestone driveway. I thought I heard wheels, too.
Rainbow and I were on the second floor. I was in Diamond Tiara’s room, in fact. We’d opened windows slightly in order to hear sounds such as those, and also to fire through if it became necessary.
I slipped next door. I could vaguely make out the sight of Rainbow in the darkness. “Are you ready?” I whispered.
Clack-clack. “Totally.”
I paused. “Is that a shotgun?”
“Hmm? Oh! Like it? I saw it at the barn and couldn’t resist. What can I say? Mac knows his stuff. He really polished up the action. He’s almost a better gunsmith than an arms dealer. He’s great with his hooves.”
“I didn’t need to know that,” I said, trying to convey annoyance as well as I could at a whisper.
“Well, he’s good with his hooves, but being an earth pony he also sometimes holds things with his mouth, and let me tell you, if he's good with his hooves, he really knows how to use that ton-”
I started shooting out out the window.
The custom carriage coming up the driveway was quite distinctive, with a flame paint job and chrome wheels. We’d left the porch light on, and it was easy to make out the carriage as it came closer. Based on recon I knew it belonged to the Third Street Thugs.
The two stallions pulling it nearly planted on their faces ducking to avoid the bullets I’d fired over their heads. As they wheeled around to run for it, the passengers in the carriage almost fell out, but they too kept their heads down.
Sure, we could have just killed them, but bodies are easiest to dispose of when they leave under their own power. Plus, Rich - nor I - needed that kind of attention.
When they were well out of sight and earshot, Rainbow and I policed our brass and left.
The next day, the Guard came to town on an anonymous tip, rounded up the Third Street Thugs, and Rich was able to return home. During the time he’d crashed with Soarin, I think didn’t much care for it. Either one of them.
As Soarin complained, “Now I’ve spent a night with Spoiled Milk and her ex-husband?”
“Nopony asked you to sleep with him,” Rainbow replied with a grin.
Soarin rolled his eyes in such a way that indicated he was mostly angry with himself for giving her the opening.
After Rich was back home and settled, I went to visit him. He’d already seen my work regarding the Flim Flam Brothers, and it was time to balance accounts. Rich had not actually promised to give me the diamond brooch for my efforts, but given his generosity so far, and what he owed me, I was fairly confident.
But just in case, I had one more card to play, if it came down to it.
He received me in his office and invited me to sit. “As promised, the rest of the payment for the Flim Flam investigation.” He pushed the bits across the desk to me.
He leaned forward, seemingly still intent on speaking, so I did not prompt him. “As for the rest…”
A cloudy look went across his face. “...Ms. Octavia, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I recently learned a few things about your situation that trouble me.”
My situation was supposed to be secret. I was more disappointed than surprised that he might have found out, though. Rich was a pony of means, and with means came ways.
“You’re Harshwhinny’s daughter, right?”
“...Oh! Yes, I am.” This time, it was a little more difficult to conceal my surprise.
“I get the feeling that she would not sanction you doing this kind of work,” he said. “As a parent myself, I wouldn’t want to go against her wishes. And her, specifically. I think you’ll agree with me that there’s nopony who would want to cross your mother.”
“So I see you’ve met her,” I said lightly.
His tone shifted. “That’s also partially why I’m hesitant to give you the contact information that we talked about, out of concern about what you might do with it. If you catch my drift.”
“I think I've shown you that I can be discreet.”
He nodded. “Not to doubt you, but I’m just a humble small-town businesspony. I'm concerned about what might happen if it were revealed that I was the one who provided this information to you.”
Time to play my hand. “I think we’re past that. I notice your butler, Garcon, still hasn’t come back after getting a whiff of this. First he tried to sell you out for the assumed weapons, and he’s still out there with this secret. Even if he doesn’t have the full story, he’s a threat to you. But if you help me, it would be easier for me to help you.”
He studied me, brows knit. After a long moment, he slowly sat back in his chair. “I suppose you’ve more than demonstrated your ability by this point. Alright, Octavia, name your price.”
“Let’s start with the diamond brooch.”
His eyes went up and he smiled. “Oh? I thought you’d already earned that.”
He took it out of his desk drawer and put it in front of me.
What had Spoiled Milk said, a gem the size of a baseball? Hardly. Though, it was still quite a rock. Worth the custody rights of a filly?
From a different drawer in his desk, he produced a portfolio case. “I have records of the mistaken shipment here,” he said. I noticed his voice had lowered.
The two of us spent a few minutes going over it. It was enlightening.
Leaving his house that day, I immediately went to hock the diamond brooch. Following that, I paid Spoiled Milk back her two hundred fifty bits for canceling the job. I didn’t give her time to sputter and complain. Unlike my own mother, this was one middle-aged mare I could pointedly ignore, and honestly I found the experience refreshing, even as I was somewhat aware I was projecting my emotions about my mother onto Spoiled Milk.
Soarin wasn’t pleased that I’d angered one of his sugar mamas, but a third of the money from selling the brooch placated him somewhat.
“Wow, and I did basically nothing,” said Rainbow, receiving her third.
“I’m glad you said that,” I replied. “I’m going to need a favor.”
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It's gonna involve explosions innit?
10541855
Everything is better with explosions.
Why do I think that Octavia getting pastured was tied to this weapons shipment?
10541855
That only makes Rainbow agreeing easier.
Side note, I've actually started rewatching the original series thanks to this. Thank you!
"Why do you need 20mm ammunition?"
"Tiger hunting."
"I thought tigers were endangered?"
"The Germans can make more"
10541855
10541911
Explosives are like violence and fire (and if you are of a programming bent, XML); if it does not solve your problem, use more
Hrm
With a school life schedule in the past, and even to now, I only caught a few glimpses of Burn Notice. And all those times that I did, it is very entertaining. I didn't know the main character could see floating text... unless this is just an Octavia ability.
But I mainly want to know if you are going to attempt to match the really long seasons in writing. I can say that this is a joy to read
10543223
At the moment, I'm looking at 11ish chapters for this story.
10542314
Heh.
Octavia sold the Broach. Interesting.