Into the lion's den
Police Captain Iron Bear’s den was out of step with the rest of the house, which was artfully decorated and modernized. Here, wood paneling reigned supreme above the faded green carpet. Framed citations, awards and medals decorated the walls, along with the Captain’s diplomas and certifications. Of the two bookshelves, the one that was largest by far contained a staggering variety of heavy non-fiction books ranging from law to chemistry, history and psychology. The smaller one held a selection of fiction, including some Westerns by Plains Walker, one of my favorite writers.
Ordinarily, the den was large and comfortable, with a lumpy red couch and several reading chairs. That’s how it was when we’d arrived, Figgy in tow, causing the Captain’s wife to wake him from his nap. Twenty minutes later, Figgy had been moved to a different room and the den was filling up with police officers.
Currently, the office had only standing room left, stallions and mares both in and out of uniform packed in tightly. I was lucky that I got to stand on the desk, or I might have been crushed. I attracted the occasional glance, but for the most part these officers took their Captain’s explanation of my situation at face value.
As the Captain explained, those glances changed from confused or amused to impressed. After all, I’d somehow managed to uncover the evidence surrounding a major smuggling operation and several corrupt cops. And, what’s more, I’d done it while being stuck in a filly’s body.
For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe again. It was as if I’d been walking around with tight bands constricting my body and mind, and now those were gone. I had never realized before how important having respect was. And not only from others, but self-respect as well. I felt my sense of who I really was coming back to me, and I knew I wasn’t going to give this feeling up again.
I couldn’t.
The Captain himself was a solidly built older stallion with a thick, iron-grey mustache and a very slight Stalliongrad accent. He led the planning session with a calm and experienced efficiency, and it wasn’t long before we were ready to go. His ice-blue eyes swept over the assembled officers who had come at his call.
“Any questions before we get started?” he asked.
“Yes. Are you ponies all out of your minds?” Every eye turned to Persimmon, who was standing in the doorway. “I can’t believe you’d risk Cinnamon like that! He’s only a filly!”
That caused some chuckles from the officers, which dried up quickly when they realized that neither the Captain nor I were joining in.
“You mind if I take this one, Captain?” I asked.
“Go ahead,” he said.
“Thanks.” I looked at Persimmon, but my answer was for the whole room. “Whatever I may look like, I am, first and foremost, a police officer. The Captain has accepted that,” I said, gesturing at the stallion, who nodded.
“Many of you have accepted it, as well,” I continued. “For those of you still doubting me, know that I’m resolved to do whatever it takes to get Mulberry out of there, safe and sound.” I looked around the room, meeting the eyes of my fellow officers. “If I can use what happened to me to make this operation safer for all of us, then it’s both my right and my responsibility to do so. Would any of you do less?”
I glanced around the room. Nopony seemed inclined to disagree with me.
“Alright. Any other questions?” Captain Iron Bear looked around the room. No further questions were forthcoming. “Right. You all know what you need to do. Everypony get to your assigned locations, and good fortune to us all.”
The ponies murmured their affirmations and began moving out. I heard some muttering as they were leaving, and I picked out the names of the six corrupt officers that Figgy had named. They were spoken of with attitudes ranging from disbelief to outright disgust and anger. I knew how they felt. No officer likes to hear that somepony they’ve worked with has betrayed the force.
These were the most trusted officers that Iron Bear could contact in time. They were beat cops, cops out on vacation, cops who were off-shift, and they had all come running when their Captain called. That, alone, was a sign that the gruff stallion deserved my admiration. The fact that he’d insisted on treating me like an adult cinched it.
As the room emptied out, I hopped off the desk, no longer in danger of being crushed under unwary hooves.
“You be especially careful, Sergeant Swirl,” the Captain said.
I nodded. “You can count on it, sir.” I started walking, then hesitated and looked back. “And, sir?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for believing me. About being an officer, I mean.”
“I’ve heard of stranger things,” he said with a shrug. “And I’ve met Miss Persimmon before. She’s a level-headed mare. Once she vouched for you, that settled matters as far as I was concerned.”
I nodded, my mouth stretching into a wide smile. It was nice being taken seriously, for a change. I started walking again, Persimmon joining me as I walked out the door.
“I still don’t like this,” she said, scowling back at the Captain as if it was his fault. “The risk is incredibly high.”
I shook my head. “I knew the risks when I signed onto the force. Operations like this are part of the job. Not only that, but this lowers the risk for everypony else.”
“I can’t convince you to change your mind?” Her voice was plaintive, a tone I’d never really heard from her before.
“No,” I said shortly. Then, I sighed.
How could I explain it to her? Maybe she was right about me needing to prove myself. Maybe this was all some stupid macho thing to try and regain my lost stallionhood. But this was also the first time in weeks I’d been treated like an adult by other adults. The first time since I’d wandered through that patch of poison joke that my opinion had mattered, that my voice was listened to, that anypony had relied on me for anything important.
And then there was one other thing, even more important than any of that. It was my trump card, and I decided to play it.
“Mulberry is still a hostage,” I said as we walked together towards the front door. “And it’s at least partially my fault for getting involved in this whole mess. I’m the only one that can do this. If I don’t… well, maybe we can get her out unharmed, and maybe not. And maybe more ponies get hurt than would otherwise have to. It’s worth the risk.”
Persimmon was quiet the rest of the way out of the house, even as we passed through the door and through the tasteful garden in their front yard. She stopped by the front gate and locked her eyes to mine.
“You can’t ask me to like it,” she said, then drew in a deep breath. “But… I accept it, I suppose.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Just come back safe.” She offered me a wry smile. “I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt, you know.”
“Like I’d ever do that to you,” I said with a grin. Then I sobered up. “You know where the tree is, right?”
“Yes, I go past it every morning on my way to work,” she said, then patted at her borrowed saddlebag as if reassuring herself it was still there.
“Just stick to the plan, and everything will be fine,” I said. I glanced at the sky. The evening was moving along, and time was running out. “I’d better get moving.”
Persimmon gave me another crooked smile before she walked away. I watched her go for a few seconds before I turned and glanced back at the house. The Captain, Iron Bear, was standing by the front door, and his commanding ice-blue eyes locked onto mine. He gave me a nod, a mark of respect. I returned it, then turned and trotted away.
Two turns, several blocks, and a quick consulting of street signs later, I found myself in the right area. I slowed from my previous trot and tried to look casual as I walked down the street. It was a fairly nice neighborhood, all well maintained apartments and cozy little storefronts; the perfect place to live if you were a young couple looking to start a family. Or if you were part of a smuggling operation looking to avoid notice.
When I’d heard the name of the place, I’d kicked myself. It should have been obvious. Looking for a smuggler calling himself “Mister Sunshine”? What more likely place to look than “Land of the Sun Imports”?
It was a store very much like many others I’d passed on my way here. Big glass windows out in front on the first floor, which was dedicated to retail space, and three more stories of brownstone apartments on top. According to Figgy, this was where the mysterious Mister Sunshine both lived and worked from. The top floor was his living area, the second his office space. The apartments were otherwise either empty or used by the smugglers themselves. The tenants were all fictitious, with convincingly forged histories.
It was a front, and a damned good one. Nopony would look twice at a place like this, and any activity would be assumed to be either because of the fictional tenants or the store on the first floor.
I noticed the guards out front as I approached. They weren’t standing around and looking intimidating, oh no. They were a couple of older stallions, saggy-featured but still thickly muscled, sitting on a wrought-iron bench in front of the store and chatting like the old chums they probably were. They could have been anypony’s grandpas. One was a unicorn with a light orange coat and a thinning grey mane, the other a dull brown earth pony with a jet black mane, an obvious dye job.
They were nice and casual, nothing obviously sinister about them, not unless you knew what to look for. Heck, even I probably would have walked right by them if I hadn’t known. It was the little things that gave them away. It was in how they would casually look up and down the street on a regular basis. It was how they seemed to weigh everypony that they saw, including me. I saw myself registered in one of the old stallion’s eyes, weighed and then dismissed as a threat, all within the space of a second.
Good. I wanted them to underestimate me. I felt myself grinning and forced myself to stop it.
Besides the two old stallions on the bench, the street was largely empty. A few shoppers on their way to a cozy home and a nice dinner. Some children playing pointless foal games in the street, sometimes chasing balls around, but mostly just them running around and shouting.
The only excitement was in the form of a large covered wagon half a block away that was having trouble with one of the wheels. The team of four burly stallions was collected around the faulty wheel and discussing what to do with it. The elderly guard stallions on their bench kept turning to look at them with eyes that held more curiosity and amusement than suspicion. As I got closer, I heard the two of them joking about the stallions’ plight.
“Poor suckers,” the orange one was saying. “That sorta crap always happens when you’re close to the end of the day and just wanna get home.”
“Yeah, or early in the morning, in order to screw up the rest of your day,” the other said. They both laughed.
I was still getting closer when a third guard stuck his head out of the shop. This one was about as subtle as a brick to the head, and I couldn’t stop the grin on my muzzle at the sight of him. The younger stallion, dressed in a police uniform, glared at the four teamsters with their broken-down wagon and started talking out of the corner of his mouth at the two guards.
“What’s goin’ on out here?” His stage whisper could probably be heard halfway up the block.
“Nothin’ you need to worry about,” the elderly earth pony said. His tone was light but held an undercurrent of contempt that made the younger stallion flinch. “Get back in the shop and mind your business, Chains.”
The red unicorn grimaced and started going back inside, stopping cold when he saw me. His eyes widened, and I had no doubt that he recognized me, even without my black and purple body suit.
The grin had never left my face since I’d seen him, and now I broke into a cheerful little trot. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up, in spite of how much more dangerous it made things for me. Still, I had a feeling I was looking a little too malicious. I tried imitating Plum as I got closer, widening my eyes and perking up my ears.
“You!” Chains said, his voice full of loathing.
The older stallions exchanged a confused look, then glanced between the unicorn and myself, probably trying to figure out how the little pink filly merited so much hate out of a grown stallion.
“Yup!” I said cheerfully. I stopped in front of the older stallions and turned my grin up a notch. “How you doing, Limpy?”
Chains growled in a rage as his horn lit up. I never got a chance to find out what he was planning to hit me with, because the elderly unicorn’s horn flared a bright green just a split second before a flash of green light cracked across Chain’s face, knocking the unicorn staggering to the side.
“What in Tartarus is wrong with ya?” The orange unicorn hissed savagely as he stood up and got chest-to-chest with the corrupt cop. “She’s just a kid!”
Honor among thieves. I would have laughed, if these weren’t the bastards that had kidnapped Mulberry.
“He’s probably just mad that I kicked him in his ‘no-no place’,” I said, not able to stop myself from sniggering. I lifted the bags off of my back and placed them in front of the still seated earth pony. “It happened back when I got this from the warehouse.”
I flipped open the bag and the earth pony gawked at what he was seeing. “Rut me with a rake!” he shouted as he jumped up off of the bench to get a better look.
“That’s a filly, Boulder!” the orange unicorn growled. “Watch your damned language!”
“Never mind that, Brassy, you gotta see this!”
Brassy gave Chains a warning glare before he stepped back and took a look inside my saddlebags. He gasped and bit back an exclamation when he saw the nectar jar.
“I think this belongs to you guys,” I said, giving them my best Plum-inspired sweet smile. “And I thought I’d bring it back.”
The older stallions exchanged a worried glance. Chains was glaring at me from his post in the doorway of the shop.
Boulder gave me a warm smile as he knelt down on the street. “Hey, kid. That’s an interesting jar. Where’d you find it?”
The original plan had been to bluff past any questions like this as long as I could, all in the hopes of being brought in to meet the boss. With Chains here, though, I could afford an unexpected tactic: honesty.
“You can ask him,” I said, nodding at the red unicorn. “He was there.”
“Chains?” Brassy turned to give his subordinate a level glare. “Care to explain?”
“I don’t know what the kid’s talking about,” he muttered. “She’s touched in the head, or somethin’.”
“You don’t remember the warehouse?” I asked, faking innocence as best as I could. “You tried to stop me leaving, so I kicked you right between your hind legs and walked out.” The older two stallions were gaping at me. Chains was giving me a look that promised an early and preferably painful death. I put on a confused look as I stared back at him. “I’m surprised you don’t remember it. It wasn’t that long ago.”
I could see it when it clicked for the two old stallions. Their eyes lit up and they both started up with deep, rolling belly-laughs. Chains flushed an ugly red as Brassy elbowed him in the chest. The orange stallion was gasping for breath, but he managed to get out a question.
“T-This is the ‘two or three big guys’ that decked ya, kid? This little filly?”
“Give him a break, Brassy,” Boulder said with a grin. “She’s probably tougher than she looks.”
“Tougher than he is, for sure!”
That set the two off again, laughing boisterously. The four teamster stallions turned from their stricken wagon to give us a curious look, then shrugged and turned back to try and fix their broken wheel. Meanwhile, I was doing my best to look good-natured but confused, like a little kid who knew they had done something funny but wasn’t sure what it was.
“M-maybe… Maybe this is the griffon he said was with ‘em?” Boulder said eventually.
Brassy whooped and held his ribs as he laughed. “Griffon?!”
“Yeah! He said there was this griffon! Gave him the stink-eye, said it was gonna hamstring him!” Boulder started laughing again, tears rolling down his face.
“Shut up!” Chains bellowed, his face flaming.
I don’t think Chains was prepared for that to work. He sure looked like he was regretting it when the laughter stopped like it was cut off by a knife.
“Kid,” Brassy said in a pleasant and conversational tone. “There are certain things you never want to say to me or my buddy here. That’s one of them. You understand?”
“Y-yeah…” Chains said, backing away from the pair of them.
“Yeah!” I said in my most scolding tone of voice. “You wanna respect ponies older than you! My Dad said so.”
That got another chuckle out of the two older guys, though nothing like what happened before.
“I like this kid,” Boulder said. “Can we keep her?” He gave me what was probably supposed to be a warm smile. I managed not to shudder in revulsion.
Brassy rolled his eyes and then turned to me. “Okay, kid. So, you found this jar in a warehouse. Why did you take it, and why are you showing it to us?”
“Well, it belongs to you guys, right?” I said, trying to flutter my eyelashes and look innocent. I probably should have practiced that, because I have no idea if I pulled it off.
“I didn’t say that,” Brassy said. “But let’s pretend I did. Why did you take it?”
“Because I wanna join your gang!” I said with a grin.
The three stallions all looked at each other, faces blank with confusion.
“You wanna what, now?” Brassy asked.
Boulder leaned in close to Brassy and said quietly, “We shouldn’t be talking about this out here.” Then he asked me, “Does your mom know where you are, kid?”
“She doesn’t care where I am, as long as I’m not running around in the house,” I said, rolling my eyes and shrugging. “Look, can I see your boss?” I looked between the three of them. “My dad always told me that I should deal with the boss first, if I could.”
That was true enough. Take out the biggest fish you could, that was Dad’s motto. Then you scoop up the followers when they’re swimming around leaderless and confused.
“Look, kid… What’s your name, again?” Brassy asked me.
My heart froze for a second and I cursed myself. I’d never thought of a fake name to give them! Something in my very soul balked at giving these scum my real name. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“Strawberry!” I said. I flinched as the name came out of my mouth. I amended it quickly. “Strawberry Lemonade.”
“Nice to meet you, Strawberry Lemonade,” Brassy said with a grandfatherly smile. “But why in the world would you think we’re in a gang?”
“Because he’s here,” I said, pointing a hoof at Chains, “and he was one of the gangsters in the warehouse. Him, a pegasus, and a huuuuge earth pony, the biggest one I’ve ever seen!”
The two older ones gave Chains a look that held absolutely no humor. The red stallion shrank back further into the store.
“I mean, I’ve been looking for you guys forever. And I finally found ya!” My Plum impersonation was coming more naturally to me now. I leaned my head forward while looking around as if I were getting ready to tell them a huge secret. “So, I give you this, and you can let me join! But I wanna talk to your boss, okay? He should meet me.”
The two older stallions exchanged another glance, and I saw Boulder give an almost nonexistent shrug.
“Tell ya what,” Brassy said. “Let’s talk inside, alright?”
“Sure!” I said as my heart began thumping. The moment I walked through that door was when the real danger started. I might not ever walk out again.
I picked up my saddlebags in my teeth and trotted into the store, all while doing my best to act with the giddy excitement I’d so often seen from Plum. Inside the shop were tables and shelves, all loaded with Zebrican and Safarian imports. Masks and combs, little dolls, beaded necklaces, all kinds of crazy things. I even saw what looked like a woven rug from one of the giraffe tribes.
There was also a pegasus behind the counter, one I recognized. He glanced up when the three of us came in. Chains was over in a corner, pretending like we weren’t there.
“Why don’t we leave your bags with Dust Devil over there, okay?” Brassy asked me.
I hesitated, pretending to think it over. Then I shrugged and dropped my bags to the floor. “‘Kay, but I keep the jar on me until I see the boss.”
Boulder chuckled as I reached in and dipped the jar out with a hoof. I held the thing in my mouth while Brassy’s magic lifted the bags off of the floor. He trotted over with them and passed them over to Dust Devil, leaning over to whisper something to the stallion before coming back to join us. No doubt he’d just said something along the lines of “Search these bags, find out what you can.”
It didn’t matter. There was nothing in there that would identify me, now.
“Come on,” Brassy said as he trotted to a door at the back of the store. “You too, Chains.”
Chains grimaced and came over to join us. We made an odd procession as we passed through the doors and started climbing stairs. Brassy was in the front, followed by me, then Boulder, and finally Chains, dragging his hooves at the rear.
When we got to the second level, I looked down the hallway and saw four doorways leading to different apartments. I wondered if Mulberry was in one of those right now, and my hooves itched to take off, leave these stallions behind and go look for her. Instead, I focused on climbing to the next floor.
The third floor was different. No long hallway leading towards the front of the building. Instead, there was a waiting area that looked for all the world like a doctor’s office. A fancy doctor’s office. There were chairs along the walls, richly upholstered in burgundy velvet. The walls were a cream color, trimmed with dark oak.
A rich mahogany desk was located in the back of the room, next to a large wooden door. Behind the desk was what looked like a secretary, a middle-aged unicorn mare with a light pink mane and a grey coat. She looked up as we entered, her face measuring and expressionless, one of her hooves going underneath the desk where, I presumed, there was a panic button.
“Wait here,” Brassy said and started walking towards the desk.
Chains stepped forward as if he intended to follow along behind. He ran into Boulder’s outstretched foreleg.
“Not you,” the earth pony said with narrowed eyes and a slight smile. Chains gulped and nodded before taking a step back again.
The three of us waited while Brassy talked to the secretary or receptionist or whatever it was that the mare was. Heck, maybe she was a bodyguard. Then Brassy went inside, closing the solid wooden door behind him.
It only took two minutes before he poked his head back out again, addressing the room at large.
“Strawberry Lemonade, you’ll have to wait out here for a while. The boss wants to talk to my buddy, Chains, here.”
Chains’ eyes widened in a panic. He glanced behind him to see that Boulder had somehow moved between him and the exit. The earth pony was just standing there nonchalantly as if there was nothing much going on. I wondered for a half a second if the unicorn was going to make a break for it. I’d have paid good money to see what Boulder would have done to him if he’d tried. Instead, the stallion steeled himself and followed Brassy past the door, which opened and closed too quickly for me to get a good look behind it.
“Come on, kid,” Boulder said. “Let’s go have a seat, okay?”
I replied with a nod, unable to talk with that damned jar in my mouth. My stomach was churning slightly at the taste of it. Some of the nectar must have gotten on the outside. I wandered over to one of the chairs and jumped up into it. I sat on my rump and spat out the jar, holding it in my hooves as I waited.
I sat patiently for a minute before I remembered that I was supposed to be a little kid. I let out an overly dramatic sigh and started kicking my back legs.
“This is taking forever,” I said in my very best whine.
“It won’t be long, kid.” Boulder said. “The boss just wants to ask Chains a few questions about what happened in the warehouse.”
“Fine,” I said with a dramatic grumble. My heart was still racing, and I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out I was sweating buckets, but this was actually getting kind of fun.
While I waited, I was planning. The question about my name had caught me off-guard, and I wasn’t going to let that happen again. I started planning out a fictional biography for myself, keeping the details vague enough to adjust them on the fly if needed.
As the minutes passed, I no longer had to pretend to be anxious. The sun was on its way down. This whole thing would be a lot more dangerous once the night came. I found myself caught between hoping things would speed up, and wanting to delay them a while longer. This was where the whole plan could fall apart.
Finally, the door opened. Chains came out, his head slumped down with Brassy right behind him. The red unicorn was headed for the door when a voice from the office stopped him.
“Boss wants you to take a seat, Chains. He’s not quite done with ya, yet.”
Chains nodded jerkily and moved to another seat, as far away from me as he could get. I can tell you that I felt positively hurt by the avoidance.
“Strawberry Lemonade? The boss will see you now.”
I did my best to hide my raw nerves as I hopped off of the chair, trying to project an attitude of eager excitement. I trotted in through the door, which Brassy closed softly behind me.
“Cooool!” I said as I looked around the office. And it wasn’t all acting, either.
The office I walked into made the reception area look plain and drab. The walls, painted a deep red, were complimented nicely by the rich, dark-stained oak. The floor was hardwood, covered with expensive Zebrican imported rugs. Bookshelves lined the walls, heavy with books bound in cloth, wood, or even a few with leather, which was not quite illegal in Equestria, but was pretty damned close. The lamps in the room were electric modified from old gas lamps, the brasswork intricate and solid, the bulbs protected by thick crystal.
There were doors on either side of the room, no doubt going to more private areas for the boss. There were a couple of low, heavy tables that looked older than my grandmother, each with a few plushly upholstered chairs around them. The desk that dominated the room was almost the size of Plum’s bedroom and was probably worth more than my mom’s house.
There were two other figures already in the room. One was Breaker, the enormous grey stallion standing to one side of what would have seemed like a huge chair if anypony else were next to it. I gave him a wary look. He gave me a bored look back through half-lidded eyes, and then went back to staring stoically at the door.
Seated behind the desk was the elusive Mister Sunshine. He had his elbows up on the desktop, his hooves pressed together with his chin resting on them. He looked down at me from his half-moon glasses and made a strange half-smile beneath a studious expression.
I didn’t have to fake my interest as I looked at him. Even though I knew what to expect, thanks to Figgy’s testimony, I still hadn’t had many opportunities to see one of his kind in person.
“Cool!” I said after spitting the jar into one of my hooves. I did my best enthusiastic grin. “You’re a zebra!”
The zebra chuckled. “That I am, little filly. And your name is Strawberry Lemonade, I understand?”
“Yeah!” I said, nodding. I was busily reminding myself that I was excited to be here, I was really happy to meet the boss, I was enthusiastic about joining a gang. All the while, my heart was thundering in my chest and my nerves were telling me to take a break for it. “Hey, your office is really neat! I like those lamps.”
“Thank you, my dear,” the zebra said with a chuckle. “And you have something that belongs to me, you say?”
I nodded, walking on three legs until I reached his desk. I had to rear up on my hind legs in order to place the jar on the desk. It was too far away for the zebra to reach easily, and I heard Brassy chuckle behind me. The jar became enveloped in his magical aura and floated over to the zebra.
“Thank you, Brassy,” Mister Sunshine said as he took the jar. Then he frowned. “This seems a little light, my dear,” he said as he bounced the jar in his hoof.
“That’s because I’m not stupid,” I said smugly. “I took that smelly stuff out and put it in my thermos, then I hid the thermos where nopony else will ever find it!” I grinned at him and said, “I’ll give it back once you let me in your gang!”
I wasn’t sure how the crime boss would react. I was hoping for amusement. I was afraid of anger. I was entirely at his mercy, and I knew it. I tried to keep that knowledge off of my face, instead trying to keep on a mask of a little filly who thinks she’s cleverer than she really is.
It must have worked, because the old zebra started laughing.
“I must say, I like your spirit.” He studied me for a while longer, long enough for me to start fidgeting. Eventually he looked up at Brassy. “You checked her, of course?”
“She had some saddlebags, boss. They’re downstairs. She wasn’t carrying anything else.”
“Right.” Mister Sunshine’s eyes measured me for a few seconds longer. “Right,” he said again. “Well, I like a little risk, so why not? But first, little filly, you have to tell me how all of this came about. And I want the truth, alright?”
I slumped with relief. If they noticed, hopefully they’d just assume that Strawberry Lemonade was glad she’d gotten her wish to get into the gang. Cinnamon Swirl, on the other hoof, was just glad that he wasn’t about to get brutally stomped on.
“It all started a while ago. My family moved here from Ponyville, and I started going to school here in Hoofington, but I didn’t have any friends. I met this weird filly,” I said, apologizing mentally to Plum for having to say that, “who didn’t have any friends, either. She invited me to a sleepover at her house. I didn’t have anything better to do, so I went.”
I said all of that as quickly as I could, seemingly without taking a breath. Plum had taught me well. I continued on in the same fashion.
“When everypony else was asleep, I got up to use the bathroom, and I heard voices downstairs. I went to see what was up, and there was this gangster there talking to the filly’s mom! I could tell he was a gangster, ‘cuz he was dressed like one. He had a piece of paper and was trying to give it to her, but she kept saying ‘no’. Eventually he left, so I snuck into the kitchen and took the paper. I saw the address, so I thought I’d try to find whatever it was that the gangster wanted. And I figured it was this jar, because there was a lot of them under the fake bottom of the chest!”
“I… see,” Mister Sunshine said, looking slightly taken aback by the flood of information. “And… why did you want to get involved with my organization?”
“My dad,” I said. I was starting to enjoy this ride, using a modified version of the truth. “He used to be involved with gangs when I was little, and it always seemed so exciting!”
“Who was your father?” Mister Sunshine asked
I was riding high now, invention coming to me quickly. “Fruit Punch,” I lied breezily. “He ran with the Manehattan Quickhooves for a while.”
The Quickhooves were a real, but now defunct, low level gang that had started about fifteen years back. A gang war had erupted about four years earlier, and the survivors had been scooped up by the local police. Hopefully that would be enough to cover any flaws in my story.
I scuffed at the floor with a hoof as my ears drooped. I didn’t have to fake my sadness when I added, “He died when I was little.”
Mister Sunshine exchanged a look with Brassy. “You ever heard of Mister Fruit Punch, Brassy?”
“Can’t say I have, boss,” the unicorn replied. “Never knew much about the Quickhooves, though. Smash and grab guys, from what I heard. Some protection, I think.”
The zebra nodded and leaned back in his chair, steepling his hooves under his chin while his emotionless eyes dissected me.
“And, if you join our organization, what is it you want from us?” he asked finally.
I grinned. I was ready for this. My planning time in the waiting room had been put to good use.
“There’s lots of stuff I want to buy,” I said, perking my ears up. “Mom says I can’t get earrings, but I want some. And there’s this filly from school that keeps showing off this stupid necklace she’s got. I’m going to get a better one, just to show her!” I stopped as if a thought had just occurred to me, then I leaned forward and gave the zebra a narrow look. “You will pay me, right?”
Brassy and Mister Sunshine both laughed. The zebra clapped his hooves together and smiled down at me. “Delightful! You’re going to go far, young miss.”
Breaker didn’t react at all during any of this. If it weren’t for the subtle movement of his ribcage, I could have thought he was a statue carved larger-than-life.
“Well, I guess that all makes sense. And you say you got past Chains when you left the warehouse?”
“It’s not my fault! He tried to stomp me!” I said, waving my hooves as if I thought I’d get into trouble. “I had to buck him where my dad said a filly should never kick a colt unless he was being a jerk!”
Brassy lost it and started laughing like a loon. His boss, even though he was smiling himself, gave him a stern look that dried up the laughter.
“That’s very brave of you, to go into the warehouse all by yourself at night,” Mister Sunshine said.
I knew when I was being tested. I slumped my shoulders and sighed.
“I wasn’t by myself,” I said as if it were being dragged out of me. “That filly I was staying with followed me! I was wearing my pajamas, since they’re all dark and I’m all pink, and I thought it would help me not be seen. I think she thought I was playing a game, or something. So, she put on some superhero costume and followed me all the way in! She wouldn’t go home, even when I told her to!”
Mister Sunshine nodded, and I knew I’d passed his test. Chains must have told him the real story.
“Okay, Miss Lemonade,” Mister Sunshine said. “All you have to do, now, is tell me where to find the thermos that holds the nectar.”
“Nuh-uh,” I said, shaking my head. “I told you, it’s in a spot nopony but me can find. If you want your nexter back, I can take you there.”
The smuggler leaned back in his chair, once again studying me with those glittering eyes. I wondered briefly if I’d oversold it when I’d deliberately mispronounced “nectar”, and my nerves started twanging like a badly tuned guitar. I gave him my best impudent grin and prayed that a cold sweat wouldn’t start running down my face.
“Very well,” he said finally. “I’ll have some of my acquaintances go with you, to make sure you’re safe. Brassy?”
“Yeah, boss?”
“Get together three or four of the boys and escort the little lady to her treasure trove, will you?”
“You got it, boss.”
I held back a sigh of relief. The first part of the plan had gone off better than I’d expected. Now it was down to the rest of it. I could only hope Persimmon had done her job.
“And then you’ll let me join, right?” I asked.
Mister Sunshine hesitated before shrugging. “Sure, why not?” he said with a chuckle.
I gave it maybe a ten percent chance that he was serious about that. The odds were much better that he just wanted his supply back. Whatever it was he planned to do with “Strawberry Lemonade” after that, I was probably better off not knowing. And it didn’t matter anyway.
“Awesome!” I said, grinning and jumping up and down for a few seconds.
Mister Sunshine smiled down at me from behind his glassy eyes. “Fare thee well, Miss Lemonade,” he said. “I hope that ours will be a long and fruitful relationship.”
I grinned back at him. “Me too.”
Brassy led me out of the office and had me wait in the reception area with Boulder while he rounded up a few stallions to join us. Chains, with a look of dread covering his features, walked into the office when the receptionist called his name.
“Relax, kid.” Boulder’s voice was jovial. “We ain’t got that many cops on the payroll that he can afford to waste ya.”
Chains straightened up a little. “You think so?” he said, hope raising in his voice.
“Yeah. He’ll probably just get Breaker to give you a nice little talking to.” Boulder’s dry chuckle was all kinds of nasty at the panicked expression on Chains’ face. “Don’t keep him waiting, kid.”
Chains licked his lips, braced himself, and walked into the office. Whatever was going to happen to him next couldn’t have happened to a more deserving stallion, as far as I was concerned.
The wait seemed to drag on forever. I started pacing restlessly in the reception area while I waited for the orange unicorn to come back with the gangsters who would escort me to the park. Meanwhile, my mind was racing. The first part of the plan had gone better than expected. But the next part was at least as fraught with danger, and not just to me.
It wasn’t long, maybe only a few minutes, and Brassy came back with four other stallions in tow. One pegasus, two earth ponies, and another unicorn, all of them in nearly identical vests and fedoras. I wondered briefly if they all used the same tailor, one who specialized in gangster stereotypes. The pegasus was even sporting a ridiculous handlebar mustache large enough to make me wonder about how it impacted his aerodynamics.
We were underway immediately. I was in the middle of the group as we went downstairs, me and the six stallions. We went out through the store on the first level, and that’s where Brassy stopped.
“We’re heading out,” he told the pegasus behind the counter. Then he turned to Boulder and said, “I’m going with Miss Lemonade, here. You okay on the bench by yourself?”
“Eh, I’ll be fine,” Boulder said. “Get going, ya old bastard.”
“Watch your language in front of the kid!” The scolding was half serious, half good-natured.
“That’s okay,” I said. “I know all sorts of swears.”
Honestly, he had no idea.
“A lady doesn’t swear, kid,” Brassy said, this time completely serious. “So, no swearin’ around me, got it?”
I nodded, schooling my expression to seriousness.
“Can I get my saddlebags back?” I asked.
“Sure, kid,” Brassy said, giving a nod to Dust Devil.
The stallion passed them over to me and I put them back on as quickly as I could. As I trotted outside to join the others, I nosed into one of the bags and took out a toothpick, crunching it firmly between my teeth. Brassy saw that and gave me a little chuckle, probably thinking about how the cute little filly was already acting like a tough gangster.
“The sun’s going down,” Brassy said as we trotted out the door. “We’d better get a move on.”
I glanced at the sky. The sun was still half a hoof above the horizon, which meant that there was still time. Not much, but it would do.
“Your folks okay with you being out this late, kiddo?” the pegasus gangster asked me.
I shrugged. “My mom’s used to me staying out late. It’s fine.”
A couple of the stallions exchanged glances at that.
“You oughta be careful running around after dark,” Brassy said seriously. “Bad things can happen to little fillies at night.”
“I’m careful,” I said. I put as much indignation into my voice as I could. “I can take care of myself, you know!”
“I’m sure you can, kid. Just watch out, okay? There’s some bad sorts out there.”
Don’t I know it.
“Okay,” I said, trying to sound as if I meant it.
A short distance away from us were the four teamsters, who were still working on fixing up their wagon. Talks had apparently degenerated to the point where they were arguing over whose fault it was. The four of them all seemed to notice us standing there at the same time. They quieted down and looked over towards us with guilty expressions before starting up discussions once again, this time in a more reasonable volume.
“So, where to, little miss?” Brassy asked me.
I grinned and switched the toothpick to the left side of my mouth. “We’re going to my favorite park!” I said loudly.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of the teamsters as he flicked an ear and stomped his back left hoof.
“Okay, listen up you four,” Brassy said to the younger gangsters. “It’s gonna be a little conspicuous if all five of us are walkin’ with the little lady, here. So, you guys are gonna hang back a ways and watch our backs, alright?”
“You got it, boss,” one of the earth ponies said.
“Walk casual, like it’s just a coincidence you’re going the same way we are,” Brassy said. He got their affirmatives, then turned to me. “Right. Lead the way, kiddo.”
Brassy swept a foreleg in front of his chest, indicating that I should take the lead. I grinned and, head held high, I trotted off with Brassy next to me while the other stallions trailed behind us. I looked back in time to see one of the teamsters break off from the others and approach Boulder, who was sitting on his bench and watching us walk away.
As I turned my head forward, I heard the teamster ask the gangster, “Excuse me, but do you know anywhere that might still be open and can do wagon wheel repairs?”
I didn’t get to hear Boulder’s reply. We rounded a corner, and I started leading Brassy through the most scenic route imaginable. We went the wrong way several times, rounded back, and crossed our own paths more than once.
It was almost like they weren’t being led by somepony who’d grown up in this town and knew these streets like the back of his hoof. Somehow, I kept getting turned around over and over again, burning off precious minutes while the stallions all grumbled behind me. Oh, the shame of it all and boy was my face red.
“Kid, I’m pretty sure we’ve been here before.” Brassy finally said to me after we’d crossed the intersection of Trotter Street and Buckle Avenue for the third time.
“Um,” I said, then shuffled a hoof, trying to look embarrassed. “I think I’m a little lost.”
“Well, where are we going?”
I glanced at the horizon again. The sun was starting to set. We had maybe another twenty minutes of daylight left. I can only hope I had delayed long enough.
“Silver Park,” I admitted.
“Well, that’s not far away,” Brassy said, ruffling my mane. “Mind if I lead the way?”
I sighed as if I were a little kid who knew she’d messed up. “Fine, I guess.” I let my head drop and my ears droop.
Brassy laughed and ruffled my mane again. “It’s okay, kid. We all get lost, sometimes.”
It was only five minutes later when we finally reached the park. Three minutes after that, and we were approaching the tree. I glanced around as we walked up to it. There were a few more joggers around than I might have expected at this time of the night, what with this chill in the air, but it wasn’t enough to remark on. Also, there were a few more couples sitting on the nearby benches than I would have thought there would be. But it was still just a normal late evening in the park. I smiled and started moving towards the tree when I saw something that almost stopped me in my tracks.
Lying on a bench near the tree was a burnt-orange mare with a jet black mane. She was pretending to read a book while sending sidelong glances my way. What’s worse, she was pretending to read it while sitting in a pool of expanding shadow. At least she had it the right way up.
I stared at Persimmon, wondering what her presence meant. She was supposed to plant her bag and leave, not hang around. Was she here to warn me? Maybe I hadn’t taken enough time getting here. Maybe something else had gone wrong. I stood there for a moment, wondering what I should do.
“Something wrong, kid?” Brassy asked, and I realized that I’d stopped for a second. Our gangster escort had caught up with us and were doing a horrible job of acting casual.
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s in this tree, here.”
I put the mare out of my mind. I didn’t have much of a choice but to proceed as planned. My heart thudded along with my hoofsteps as I approached what the kids called “the secret tree”.
It wasn’t that the tree itself was a secret. It wasn’t hidden, it wasn’t even all that unusual. What it was, was three trees that had started growing so close together that they had fused into one massive trunk. A lightning strike when I was a colt had killed off one of the three trees, and when it had rotted away, it had left a hole at ground level just big enough for a pony my size to crawl into.
“Wait here,” I said to the stallions. Not waiting for any acknowledgement, I got on my belly and wriggled in.
For a moment, I didn’t see the bag. A sense of dread washed over me, and I was sure I was going to die that day. Then I saw it: a hint of canvas. The relief that flooded over me was like being drenched with warm water on a cold day.
I flipped the bag open and grinned as I reached in. The thermos was there. So was the tape recorder. A deft flick of my hoof, and I had it recording. With the thermos pulled in tight to my chest, I left the recorder and bag behind as I wriggled out.
I could feel the mud and leaves that were matted into the fur on my belly as I stood up. Brassy held his hoof out, waiting for the thermos to be passed over. I hugged it tighter to my chest.
“Just a minute,” I said. “If I give this over, I get to be in your gang, right?”
“Kid, let’s not play games,” Brassy said. He was smiling, but I could hear the patience wearing thin in his voice.
“I need to know!” I said. “That your boss, that zebra… Wait, what’s his name, again?”
“Mister Sunshine,” the pegasus said. Brassy elbowed him in the ribs, making him squawk like a chicken.
“Mister Sunshine,” I repeated with a nod. “He’ll let me in, right? I want to be in your gang!”
“Do you even know what the gang is, kid?” Brassy asked me, frowning. “What we do?”
“Sure! You run capers, like in those pulp books, right?” I grinned at him. “Heists and bank robberies, and stuff like gambling dens, and you’re all really cool and stuff!”
“We don’t do that kind of stuff so much,” Brassy said. “Bank robberies are dangerous. Gambling dens? Yeah, some of that. Mostly, though, we’re in the import and export business. Pretty boring work for a kid.”
“Import and export?” I asked, trying to sound confused. “Wait… like the smugglers in Daring Do and the Secrets of the Crystal Caverns?”
“Heh. Maybe a little like that.” Brassy said with a nod. “Maybe you’re better off just giving that over, going home, and forgetting all about this?”
“What?” I tried to sound upset. “No! You promised!”
I looked around. In spite of the sun now nearly completely down, the number of ponies casually walking along the park paths seemed to be increasing.
“Kid, just pass it over,” Brassy said.
His patience sounded like it was nearly gone. I decided to go for one last effort.
“What is this stuff, anyway?” I asked him. “It smells like butt.”
Brassy sighed and ran a hoof over his mane. “It’s called aldavii nectar, and it’s very valuable.” He sighed again and stepped closer. “Come on, kid. I want to get back before dark, okay?”
I stared at him for a few seconds. Behind him, I heard an earth pony mutter to the pegasus, “Hey, this is a pretty popular place all of a sudden.”
I glanced around. He was right. More joggers and walkers than ever. And behind the stallions I saw something that made me want to grin. I managed to keep a lid on it, instead holding out the thermos with a sigh. Brassy’s horn glowed and a bright green aura took it.
“It’s weird that you called it that,” I said, switching the toothpick to the right side of my jaw. “Because I could have sworn it was plain old chocolate pudding.”
Brassy narrowed his eyes at me, then unscrewed the cap on my trusty thermos. He sniffed at it, and was so distracted by the contents that he didn’t hear one of his goons say, “Hey, aren’t those the guys that were out in front of the store?”
“You playing games with me or something?” Brassy asked me. The kindly grandpa routine was over. “What the hell is this?”
I grinned up at him for a split-second, then took a deep breath.
“Chocolate pudding!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Chocolate pudding, chocolate pudding!”
As code words go, I suppose it could have been worse. I was shouting it over and over, and all of the gangster stallions were staring at me like I’d lost my damned mind. That’s why it came as a complete surprise to them when they found themselves rushed and surrounded by “late-evening joggers”, all of whom were suddenly sporting police badges on lanyards and shouting things like “Police! You’re under arrest!”
The earth pony mooks and the unicorn were already down, each covered by two or three officers. The pegasus tried to make a break for it, only to be knocked, wailing, out of the air by two police pegasi and pinned firmly to the ground.
“Shit!” Brassy shouted, obviously forgetting about not swearing in front of the “little filly”. He whirled in place, narrowly missing being tackled by an earth pony officer. Then his horn glowed, and I yelped in shock when I felt a band of force solidify around my midsection.
I started kicking and hollering up a storm. That is, up until I felt the cold metal of the knife against my throat. That quieted me right down.
“Everypony back off!” the orange unicorn shouted.
Everypony froze. Then I heard a shout of distress from Persimmon. Two of the officers moved to restrain her while another one of the officers, a sergeant according to his badge, made a pacifying gesture towards Brassy.
“Let the filly go, pal,” the sergeant said. “You know you aren’t walking away from this, right? You really want to be up on a murder charge, too?”
Brassy laughed bitterly. “What’s it matter at my age? I go back to prison now, and I’m never setting a hoof outside as a free pony ever again.”
“That’s too bad,” I said softly.
I’d turned my head so that I could see him clearly. He rolled an eye over at me, and I saw a flash of guilt in his eyes.
“Sorry about this, kid,” Brassy said. “I like ya, but I can’t go to prison.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I said. “Because you don’t have a choice.”
Did you know that the very best way to stop a unicorn’s spell is to disrupt their concentration? I shouted and lashed out with a forehoof, hitting him right in the base of the horn. The old unicorn yelped in pain, clapping his hooves to his head as his magic winked out.
I found myself in free-fall for half a second before landing on my hooves, staggering, and falling on my side as the knife thunked blade-first into the dirt next to me. Immediately, the sergeant was there, helping me up.
“You okay?” he asked me as he helped me stand up.
“I’m fine.” I looked over to where Brassy was being restrained by two unicorns, horns glowing, and no less than three earth ponies. His face was set in a furious snarl as he was dragged away from me. “Mulberry?”
“We got her,” the sergeant said. “She’s safe and giving her statement now.”
The whole world went a little grey and swimmy for a few seconds before I remembered to breathe again.
“Good,” I felt myself saying. That probably qualified for understatement of the year. “How’d it go down?”
“Not bad,” an accented voice said. I turned to see Iron Bear walking up behind us. “The plan, it went nearly perfect. I wasn’t expecting you to get so many of their crew to come with you. Made it much easier when we moved in.”
“I have a dangerous face,” I said, deadpan. “What did you mean by ‘nearly perfect’?”
A sour look crossed the captain’s face. “That Mister Sunshine got away. Him, and some huge bastard with him. They went through us like a ball through bowling pins. Whoever didn’t get knocked aside, Mister Sunshine blew some powder in their faces and they fell over, paralyzed.”
That was new, and more than a little worrying.
“They alright?” I asked.
“No worries. It wears off fast.” Chief Iron Bear scowled. “Still, between the two of them, we now have four officers out for medical evaluations.”
“Glad you still had enough left over for part two,” I said, glancing at the criminals currently in detention. “Hey, I almost forgot. You might need this.”
It only took a few seconds for me to wriggle back into the hollow part of the tree, grab the saddlebag, and scoot back out. I took out the tape recorder, hit stop and then rewind.
Brassy saw the recorder and groaned. “What the hell? Who are you, kid?”
I took out the other item in the bag.
“My name—that is, my real name—is Cinnamon Sugar Swirl,” I said as I walked towards him, looping the lanyard over my head. “Police sergeant, formerly of the Ponyville P.D. and currently on temporary assignment with the Hoofington P.D.”
I spit out my toothpick and dropped the badge to my chest where it swung gently, glinting in the last rays of the setting sun. Brassy’s eyes followed it like it was a hypnotist’s watch. I couldn’t help but smile as a grim sense of satisfaction welled up in me.
“And you are under arrest, you sonofabitch.”
~~*~~
It took a half hour or so for us to give our statements and be cleared to leave. The Captain insisted on assigning a police sergeant to walk me home. Persimmon tagged along too, though I’m not sure why she didn’t just head home.
I could have protested that I was fine, but I wasn’t in the mood to turn down the company, especially after having a knife pressed up against my jugular. As tough as I like to think I am, I still had the shakes from that. So, no. I didn’t mind the company at all.
The three of us walked through the late-evening gloom towards my house, Persimmon on my left and Sergeant Pinwheel on my right. I felt small, sandwiched between the two of them, but I didn’t gripe about it. I had other things on my mind.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Miss Persimmon said with a roll of her eyes.
“Classic divide and conquer,” Sergeant Pinwheel said. “Captain Bear had barely enough officers he could trust to even try this raid. Not to mention, the fewer gangsters in the building, the less risk to everyone.”
“So, I go in as a distraction and get as many of them to go with me as I could,” I said, adding in my two bits, “and the Captain could use his whole force on each smaller group.”
“Like I said, I just can’t believe that your stupid ‘bait’ plan actually worked,” she grumbled stubbornly.
I winked at her. “Normal folks sometimes have trouble following the thought processes of us geniuses.”
On the other side of me, Pinwheel barked out a surprised laugh. Persimmon just snorted and rolled her eyes again.
“Genius. Right,” she said, deadpan. “Did you forget that I’ve graded your homework?”
“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” I asked. “Smugglers arrested, bad cops being rounded up as we speak, Mulberry on her way home, unharmed… All in all, I call it a win.”
Persimmon tossed a concerned look my way. “I guess. I’m worried about that Mister Sunshine, though.”
So was I, but I decided to deflect the subject instead of saying so. “If he’s got any sense, he’s halfway back to Zebrica by now.”
“She… sorry, he is right, ma’am,” Pinwheel said. “If he’s stupid enough to stay in town, we’ll get him. But he’s most likely running for it. We’ve got officers out looking everywhere.”
Persimmon shook her head at that. We walked in silence for a few minutes, until my house came into sight. That’s when the mare started talking again, her voice quaking slightly.
“I still can’t… Cinnamon, when he held that knife up to your throat…”
We walked along in silence for a few more seconds.
“Yeah.” There wasn’t really much else I could think of to say. And then we were at the gate. “Well, thanks for walking me home—”
“No, I’m not done yet,” Persimmon said with a shake of her head. “The sergeant and I still have to walk Plum home. And you need to get some sleep.”
“...Right,” I said. I’d actually managed to forget about that. Of course Plum would have to go home, too.
I opened the gate and passed the others through before I closed it again. Then a thought occurred to me.
“Sergeant, would you mind waiting out here?” I asked.
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
“Not really,” I said, shrugging. “My mom gets spooked around strange ponies.”
Which was a half-truth. The rest of the truth was that if I walked through the door with both Persimmon and a police officer, I can’t imagine how my mother would act. Not to mention the mess inside. The fewer that saw that, the better.
Sergeant Pinwheel nodded and took up station next to the doorway as I opened the door and walked inside the house. Nopony was around at first glance.
“Hello?” I called as I stepped into the nearby living room.
Almost immediately, I heard the rushing of hooves as my mother pounded towards me.
“Cinnamon!” She gathered me into a fierce, rib-creaking hug. “I was so worried!”
“Cinnamon?” That was from Plum, who was exiting our living room with a look of mingled hope and desolation.
I beat on my mom’s shoulders until she got the hint and let me down. I gasped for breath for a few seconds, then smiled at Plum.
“Your mom is okay,” I said. “She’s on her way home, now.”
Plum exploded into tears the likes of which reminded me of her earlier hysterics. I was half expecting it, but I wasn’t expecting the soggy filly to fling herself onto me, embracing me in a hug nearly as strong as Mom’s.
“Thank you… thank you…” she managed to say. I was at a loss. All I could think of doing was patting her back and stroking her mane.
We stayed like that for a minute, Mom and Persimmon doing their best to look like they weren’t in the middle of an awkward, emotional scene. After a while, Plum broke contact. She offered me a weak and relieved smile while wiping a foreleg across her muzzle. She looked like she was going to say something, but my mother beat her to it once she finally got a good look at me.
“Is that your police badge?” she asked.
I’d forgotten to take it off. I glanced down at it, glinting on my chest. Then I looked up at my mother.
“Yes,” I said. “Because I’m a police officer.”
“Cinnamon,” mom said, her voice starting to sound angry. “We talked about this.”
“No. You talked about this. I wasn’t given a choice.” I planted my hooves firmly. “But now I have. And I’m taking it. I’m staying on the force, Mom.”
“Like that?” She sounded incredulous, like she was about to start laughing.
“Of course not,” I snapped back. “But I’ll be cured eventually. And, here’s the thing, Mom. Even if I’m not, eventually I’ll grow up again. And when I do, I’m back on the force. You can’t stop me, and I won’t let you guilt me out of it again!”
She opened her mouth to reply, then hesitated as her eyes narrowed. Suspicion filled her voice as she asked me, “Why were you wearing the badge tonight?”
I snorted. “Why do you think?”
The pending argument was interrupted by a solid rapping at the door.
“Who could that be?” Mom asked, frowning.
“It’s the police sergeant who walked us here,” Persimmon said, looking relieved that something had interrupted our argument. She reached out and opened the door with a hoof.
The door swung open to reveal a dapperly-dressed zebra. As soon as it was open, he blew into his upraised hoof. A cloud of white powder flew into Persimmon’s face, and she gasped in a lungful of air out of reflex. Then she gurgled and fell over, legs stiff.
I think I shouted her name. Or maybe I just swore. I’m not sure which. Plum was shrieking in my ear. I remembered later that Mother, surprisingly, wasn’t saying a thing. She was simply staring at Sunshine with narrowed eyes, her ears laid back but her body looking relaxed.
“Well, well, well. Miss Lemonade, was it?” Mister Sunshine said with his humorless smile under ice-cold eyes. “I do believe I have a bone to pick with you.”
He planted his forehooves on Persimmon’s paralyzed body and shoved her roughly out of his way so he could enter. Plum wailed in distress behind me as we watched the helpless mare slide down the hallway. An electric fury surged through my body, urging me to charge him right then and there, to do as much damage as I could before he put me down. The only thing that stopped me was the thought that I would be leaving Plum defenseless if I did.
A section of the night moved behind the zebra and Breaker came in, squeezing his massive bulk through the doorframe.
“Imagine my surprise—and, I have to say, disappointment—when, not minutes after you left my office, I found my business being raided by a large number of law enforcement officers.” Mister Sunshine’s tone was relaxed and conversational, almost cheerful. But there was a hidden edge to it, sharp enough to draw blood. “Indeed, quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”
Mister Sunshine’s smile never reached those glittering eyes of his as he moved slowly towards us. I shoved Plum behind me and started backing away. Breaker loomed behind his boss, taking up most of the hallway beyond the living room.
“And then, while fleeing, I see the stallions I sent with you being arrested in a park. How very upsetting that was! And now I see that you are wearing a police badge. Interesting. Is there anything you would like to say to me?” Mister Sunshine asked me.
“Yes.” I drew myself up. “You’re under arrest.”
Mister Sunshine looked surprised for a moment, and then a deep laugh rolled out of his chest. He cut it off with a sudden snap of his jaws.
“Breaker, take care of the mare. I’ll get the fillies.”
“Yes, boss,” Breaker rumbled.
The giant stallion stepped past the zebra, moving towards my mother. I was grinding my teeth so hard together that I swear they were ready to crack.
This was my worst nightmare coming true: a threat to my family that I was powerless to stop. Desperately, I reached out in a last-ditch effort to ground myself, trying to give myself any kind of extra edge I could get my hooves on. If nothing else, maybe I could be enough of a distraction that Plum could get away. I had no illusions about my mom running away if I was still in danger.
The frustrating thing about earth pony grounding techniques is that you need to be calm and focused for them to work. I was neither. There are maybe a hoof-full of ponies in Equestria skilled enough with the technique to ground themselves while they are under attack.
Maybe that’s why I was shocked right down to my hoof-tips when my mother spun with a grace I’d never expected to see from her, planted her forehooves on the floor and bucked that bastard Breaker so hard in the chest that he flew, all four hooves leaving the ground as his breath exploded out of his lungs. He hit the wall of the living room like a wrecking ball and, with an explosion of sound like a tree struck by lightning, he kept on going, taking a large part of the wall with him.
Breaker landed on his side with a thud, narrowly missing Persimmon’s prone form, and slid across the hallway floor until he hit the wall under the staircase. He impacted that with the sound of shattered drywall and breaking studs that shook the floor under my hooves.
As the rest of us gaped at what had just happened, I saw that the massive stallion might have been down, but he definitely wasn’t out. He put his front hooves under him and was already trying to lever himself up, sections of wall falling away from him and his coat dusted white with plaster and drywall.
Mom sped past in us in a blur, stopping right in front of the dazed stallion. She reared back and then brought her forehooves together, hard, on either side of the stallion’s massive skull.
Breaker went down like a sack of wet cement.
And then my mother calmly turned to face Mister Sunshine with a face that looked like it was carved from stone.
The zebra cursed, his former decorum forgotten as he dipped his hoof into his vest pocket. I bolted forward with a shout just as he pulled it out, more white powder cupped in the hollow of his hoof. I didn’t have a plan, I just rammed him head-first in the side as hard as I could.
Mister Sunshine’s breath whooshed out of him, scattering the powder in a cloud in front of his own face. Then, out of reflex, he breathed in deeply.
“Oh, shit,” he said in a mildly surprised tone. Then he rattled deep in his throat, stiffened up, and fell over with a thud.
Plum and I stood, speechless, staring at the carnage all around us. Finally, my mother spoke up.
“Cinnamon, honey,” she said in the calmest voice I’d ever heard her use, “I believe you have some explaining to do.”
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That was a looot of great updates in a short amount of time!
Great work, can't wait to the next chapter!
OH YEA!
yup can't wait for the next chapter
As Cinnamon Sugar Swirl told your goons, zebra... You are under arrest, you sonofabitch.
XD Awesome. I did not expect three chapters of updates in a single sitting.
HA!
This chapter was mind-blowingly amazing, Cinnamon's acting and experience really shine here, and it was a legitimately enjoyable chapter, I ended up laughing and smiling more than I usually do reading fanfiction, but holy cow, Cinnamon's mom is a BADASS!
Well, that was both an unexpected and awesome turn of events.
Don't make the Mommy angry. You wouldn't like her when she's angry.
Story update galore. Should have known better than mess with the crazy mom. Crazy mom will whip you.
Swirl's mom is a badass with zen-like calmness when it matters.... Huh. Would've known?
Remember kids, this is why you don't play with drugs, they can paralyze you and allow the cops to arrest your sorry ass
Did you really mean non-fiction in this sentence?
Otherwise, Awesome story! Feels like we have about one more chapter for the dust to settle and things to wrap themselves up.
Eh... Never anger a mare. It never end well.
Also, I'm curious to know what Merlos editing comments look like
Ah an enraged mother... pfffffff An enraged earth pony mother protecting her child... The gangsters could have died
Awesome! I loved the execution of the whole plan. The only sad thing is that this wonderful story is coming to an end.
Oh goodness sakes yes!
*whistles*
Phew! That last chapter had me on edge. Nicely done Hoopy!
Hell hath no fury.
Finally, its almost over with! We just need to cure Cinnamon!
As Celestia says when she slides into a box of nails in that ponies sliding into boxes parody, "OH SHIT!"
Amazing three chapters.
I'm amazed I missed two of them.
You know I didn't think I could feel less sympathy for Cinnamon's mum but if she wanted he son to be safe in a dangerous job and could fight like that she could have taught him herself rather than go guilt tripping over protective parent.
Woah, sudden badassery! I love it!
3850826
You didn't miss two of them, he posted all three of them at once.
I'm now very scared of Almond.
aaaa
It's 11:50 on a school night and midterms start in two days and I just now find out that you've put up the next three chapters why
Oh
My god.
I THOUGHT YOU SAID NO CLIFF HANGERS
AAW YISS, SHIT FINALLY WENT DOWN.
denver.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw10237-tumblr_inline_motiamFCSn1qz4rgp.gif
denver.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/rsz/mlfw605_medium.jpg
"Oh, shit."
I kek'd so hard.
Daaaaammmnnnn Super Mom is a go. Well just proves that when you mess with a mother's children, you better hope she doesn't kill you in her protective super angry mom mode.
That should be fiction-- the non-fiction was the previous shelf.
Anyway, excellent chapters!
3853165
I'm kind of ashamed about the fact that the part of these three chapters which gets me the most excited is all the shipping fuel. The spares must be paired!
wahhh!!! Wah!!! Wah!
Y'know, there's two things that aggravate me about this story. First is that it is soon to end. Second is that I can't Favorite or Like it any more. You're on to a good thing, otherwise.
Thanks for sharing!
awesome!
3854496
You would be correct, and thanks for the catch!
.... And it's almost over. Just the epilouge to go I'm guessing.
As usuall your story flows excellently, with only a few grammer hickups (Just sentences I have to read a couple to get what they mean, I could point them out while reading but wouldn't find them again now) and your charecterisation is near perfect. I didn't realise in the story, but beacuse of this comment:
3856929
I do agree that "MR. Sunshine" is lacking description. You did spend more time describing his office then the mob boss himself after all.....
Otherwise, fantastic story! I'm both delighted and saddened to see it near the end. Hopefully you will strive to raise the bar with your next fic yes?
Thank's for the literature!
-Teslaponie
"Plains Walker"? That wouldn't be a M:TG reference, would it?
Totally freaking worth it.
Great story; has replaced Fallout: Equestria as the most compelling thing I've read in pony literature.
Hope to read more in this story-verse.
Is Plains Walker a proficient planeswalker? I bet he'd use white magic.
So Sugar mother can kick flank?
Suspicious teamsters are suspicious.
Ooooo, that's not good.
Make that definitely suspicious.
Yes!
Aw crap, Sunshine got away? That ain't good.
Yeah, figures he would show up at Cinnamon's house.
Holy crap, that was awesome! In like four paragraphs Cinnamon's mom 90% redeemed herself in my eyes. She has seemed kind of damaged the whole story long, so with that little revelation I'm thinking she has some larger history we haven't seen yet. Maybe retired from the force as well, with some sort of psychological trauma?
So I guess the story is starting to wind down? And why am I thinking Mrs. Swirl is retired ERG or ERMC? Good God we see where Cinnamon gets his..her badassery
BADASSERY HAS REACHED CRITICAL LEVELS, SIR!
Yes. She had 5 sons.
Breaker my be three times the common stallion but she is able to handle five.
Do The Math!
I can't wait to see how this wraps up at this point. Cinnamon should stay how she is, get that second lease on life. Also, ZOMGS Kick-Flank Mom Scene!
Well it seems Mom thought that this whole payback business was bringing attention away to the very important subject of her daughter being rebellious and all. She just took the necessary action to nip the problem in the bud.
Unfortunately this does not bode well for our little Cinnamon it seems.