> The Manehattan Sanction > by Graymane Shadow > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > A View to a Kill > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Manehattan Sanction Seems like every time I come here, it’s raining. It wasn’t that Starlight Glimmer minded the rain. For her current mission, the benefits and drawbacks were a wash, really. On the one hoof, the clouds helped obscure the moon, and the increased darkness made it easier for her to avoid being seen in her current location. On the other, the occasional flicker of lightning heightened her chances of being spotted by the wrong pony, not to mention the increased difficulty of making the shot. As the best markspony in the Service, that last part wasn't really a risk. Just something she kept in mind. At least the tarp was keeping her mostly dry, though her chest and tail were soaked. The rooftop of Le Petit Plat, one of Manehattan’s finest eateries, was hardly her preferred choice for a sniper's nest, but it had two things that made it suitable for the night’s work. First, it had three methods of escape that wouldn’t require her to use magic, something she considered essential. Teleports were flashy and noisy, and when trying to escape both were things to be avoided. Second, it had a perfect line of sight into the penthouse suite owned by Astral Meadow, her target that evening. For a pony clever enough to have hidden his activities for years, having an apartment only a few stories off the ground with great sightlines thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows seemed like an uncharacteristically stupid move. But, in her years of working in the service of the Crown, Starlight had long since learned that even the brightest ponies could be stupid when they wanted to be. That the glass wasn’t even bulletproof was ample evidence of that. She checked the time. Meadow would be arriving home soon, assuming he didn’t stop on the way home from the charity gala. She doubted that would be the case. The ponies of Station M (Manehattan) had done a bang-up job of shadowing the businessman for the past five months, and they had found that he always made sure to be home early on the third Tuesday of each month. He had an auction to run, after all. The dossier on her target had been notable for the lack of the usual biographical information, but given the subject it was hardly a surprise. Everypony with even the slightest bit of awareness knew who Astral Meadow was. Nearly every major happening in Manehattan over the past decade had borne his hoofmarks, and with good reason. A billionaire, Meadow had made a name for himself with his generous philanthropic work, always claiming that he wanted to give back to the people who had helped him get to where he was. Starlight wondered how much of the charity had been genuine, and how much of it had merely been attempts to curry favor. Even Princess Celestia hadn’t wanted to believe the evidence at first, though she’d quickly come around after seeing that it was incontrovertible. Astral Meadow was more than a philanthropist. He was also a foal smuggler, supplying the seedy underbelly of Manehattan and other parts of Equestria with orphans and foalnapped children. And he’d been doing so for years. To succeed in her position, Starlight had developed a certain detached coolness toward the darker things in life. It was one of the first things they’d taught her when she’d joined the Special Branch of Equestrian Intelligence, and she prided herself in her not-inconsiderable talent for it. But she had found it very difficult to maintain that coolness after reading the reports detailing what had happened to some of Meadow’s victims. The photographs had only served to make things worse. The only reason she was still on the mission was that every other pony in Special Branch had reacted the same way, and perhaps none more than Princess Luna, their leader. “Send a damn message, Glimmer,” Luna had said when she’d given Starlight the assignment. “Let these foul ponies know that the shadows will not protect them any longer.” Of course, that was easier said than done. There were considerable politics involved, complicated by the fact that Meadow was currently the leading candidate for the mayorship of Manehattan. Celestia had agreed with the need to send a message, but she had made it clear that there could be no political blowback directed at Canterlot, to say nothing of Special Branch or the Princesses themselves. That was why Starlight was on the rooftop, watching through the scope of a FarSight sniper rifle as the lights in Meadow’s penthouse turned on. As her target appeared in the scope, she had to swallow the urge to kill him right there. Astral Meadow was the primary objective, but the secondary objective was nearly as important; getting photographs of the other attendees that evening, for use in later prosecution. She activated the small camera attached to the side of her scope, bringing one hoof up to rest on the shutter button. Starlight didn’t recognize the first two ponies, but the third made her pause; Iron Cuffs, the Chief of the Manehattan Police, had just entered the room, a smile on his face as he greeted Meadow warmly. Either the intelligence is bad, or he’s here for the auction. As much as she wished it were the former, her gut told her it was the latter. That would certainly explain how the operation had remained hidden for so long. She snapped pictures of the fourth, another pony she didn’t recognize, and the fifth, who she did. Flower Tree was Meadow’s business partner in the foalsmuggling. It made sense she would want to be there to see the latest fruits of her cruel hoofwork. The five ponies sat in various chairs, chatting idly with their host, who was serving them all copious glasses of some libation; brandy, if she had to guess. As that was going on, she removed the camera from her scope, sliding it into the small saddlebag on her right side. There wouldn’t be time for that after she’d fired – she estimated she had thirty seconds at most before eyes started being cast outward. Less, perhaps, with Chief Cuffs involved. Either way, she intended to be gone before then. Once everypony had their drink, Meadow took his place in the most padded chair, the one near the fire, and gestured to somepony she couldn’t see from her vantage point. As the first terrified filly was led into the room, she felt her tension ease, even as bile rose in her throat. The intelligence was good…and damn it to Tartarus for being so. There was nothing left to do but take the shot. She sighted in on Meadow’s head, waiting for him to stop moving as he laughed at a joke he’d just told. As she stared into his glowing eyes, she felt a surge of hate, which she had to tamp down lest her hooves start shaking. “Watch the filly, you bastard,” she whispered, taking one last breath to steady herself. She blinked once to clear her eyes, made sure the crosshair was in the right place, and pulled the trigger. Even suppressed, the sound of the shot echoed off the buildings around her, but wearing earplugs, Starlight didn’t hear it. As soon as she saw the flash of red through the scope she pulled back, tossing the tarp away and throwing the rifle down on the ground. Picking up the flask she’d been issued, she tugged the stopper out with her teeth before using the contents to douse the rifle. The bespoke acid immediately went to work on the metal, which bubbled and sagged. If anyone happened to search this rooftop later, all they would find would be a pool of untraceable slag. She wadded up the tarp, picked up the brass casing from the round she’d fired, and ran for the ladder at the back of the roof. Half-an-hour later, she was safely in her hotel room, nursing a glass of scotch as she turned the camera over again and again in her hooves. In the morning she’d turn it over to the head of Station M and be done with the whole affair. She couldn’t help wondering how they would handle Chief Cuffs. Probably a forced retirement, she decided, followed by a lot of questioning to find out what else he knew. With any luck, he’d be ‘disappeared’ afterward. Either way, she was glad that wasn’t her problem to handle. Finally feeling calm enough to sleep, she drained the glass, setting it down on the nightstand before sliding into the cool sheets of the bed. She slept soundly that night.