Chapter 27

Mindy, Trixie, and I clop our way down the metal staircase they've rolled up to the jet for us to disembark with. Waiting at the bottom are two men in suits. Their clothes and expressions fairly scream "government stooge". Seeing them makes me grind my teeth, as I've already had more than enough of government-types.

"Which one of you is Irony Smith?" the taller one on my left asks. Of the two, he seems the more experienced one. He has an air of "seen it all, done it all, didn't bother with the fucking T-shirt". His partner, however... not so much.

Shifting to two legs, I cross my arms beneath my breasts and stare them down for a moment before answering, "I assume that you're looking for me. You may call me Irony Shieldbreaker."

The senior man gives a single nod. After a moment of silence, he turns to look at his partner. The younger man's eyes are bulging in their sockets, his face flushed enough that he looks like he's about to have a massive coronary. His partner elbows him in the ribs, hard.

With a grunt, he finally removes his gaze from my bare chest, and looks me in the eyes. I didn't think it was possible, but he manages to turn a couple shades darker. He sputters for a moment, then finally starts speaking, "Miss... Smi... err... Shieldbreaker is it? Ahem. Yes, Miss Shieldbreaker, we require your presence, for debriefing."

"Debriefing," I state, giving him a hard stare, the tone of my voice making it blatantly obvious what I think of that.

"Irony, do you want the Great and Powerful Trixie to get rid of these guys for you?" Trixie asks me, an evil smirk on her muzzle.

Junior goes from red as a valentine's heart to white as a sheet so fast that I'm surprised he doesn't faint dead away at our hooves. Evidently he's heard about her actions... interesting, I smirk to myself. Senior looks me in the eyes and smiles, obviously enjoying the discomfiture of his young partner.

My smirk widens to a grin, "No, it's okay Trix, I think I'll humor these gentlemen. You and Mindy should return to the farm."

She tilts her head, cocking an eyebrow at me, "Trix? Really?"

Shrugging, I reply, "What can I say, they're for kids."

The senior man busts out with a loud guffaw, making his partner jump at least a foot. I swear, I even see a squirt of brown come out his pantleg. Oh, sweet Celestia, he's still wet behind the ears... can't be but a couple months out of Quantico!

Wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes with his left hand, the agent reaches out his right to shake mine, "Miss Shieldbreaker, I do believe I like you. Thank you, I needed that."

"No problem, Agent..." I trail off.

"Johnson. Johnathan Johnson. And, no, that's not an alias. My parents had a horrible sense of humor," he fills in the blank, turning off the laughter like he is flipping a switch.

I smile, "Tell you what, call me Irony and I won't call you John-John. Deal?"

"Deal."

I nod goodbye to Mindy and Trixie, Trixie sputtering a little herself at my joke. She keeps shooting me dirty looks over her shoulder as they trot off.

"So, John, where are we going?" I ask my new friends.

"That's classified," replies the newbie from behind me.

"Damn, he's newly minted, isn't he?" I ask John.

"You have no idea. Last week he damn near drew down on a group of high school kids," he chuckles.

"Whoa, that's intense. What's his name, anyway?" I glance back at the younger man, catching him staring at my ass, "What's your problem? Haven't you ever seen a naked anthropomorphic pony before?"

He sputters, his face flushing like the setting sun again.

John snorts, "Busted, Rookie."

"My name's not Rookie, sir, you know that," the kid grumbles.

"Yes, I do, but to me you'll always be Rookie, even when you've been on the job a decade or two, because I got to break you in."

"Seriously?"

I laugh, "It's the same in the military, kid. It's nothing personal. So, what's your name?"

"Tony. I'm seriously going to have to put up with being called Rookie forever?"

"Only by John. Everybody else will stop when the shine wears off," I give him a friendly smile.

"Come on Malone let's--" John cuts himself off at the look on my face.

"Malone?" I slowly turn my gaze onto the younger man, my eyes narrowing dangerously. "Any relation to a Chris Malone? Of the CIA?" my voice goes lower with each word, the last one coming out as a bass growl.

"Yeah... he's my cousin. Why?" his voice cracks, his throat swallowing convulsively.

"Never mind," I turn from him, forcibly unclenching my fists, not even having realized that they'd clenched in the first place.

"No, not never mind! You obviously have a problem with Chris. One that affects you strongly enough that you looked ready to kill me just at the mention of my last name. I want to know why," the kid looks about ready to piss himself, but he's plucked up his courage enough to press the issue. Maybe he's made of sterner stuff than I first thought.

"You really want to know?"

He nods, a determined look on his brow.

"I take issue with any man that will cold-bloodedly murder a fellow pony, orders or no," closing my eyes, I turn away again.

"I--"

"Let's go, John. Take me wherever you will," I interrupt Tony, walking swiftly, forcing the agents to catch up.

We proceed in silence the rest of the way, John taking the lead. He guides us to your typical black government SUV. Holding the rear door, he gestures for me to get in. I take a seat, and they both follow me in.

Looking around, I realize that the back is completely enclosed, the windows blacked out, a barrier between us and the front. I can't see where we're going. I guess they were serious about our destination being classified...

We sit in silence for several minutes before I decide to break it, "I'm sorry about your cousin."

Tony opens and closes his mouth several times before finally speaking, "He-- he's not dead, is he?"

I shake my head, "No. Not that I wasn't tempted, but I try to refrain from outright murder, even when it might be deserved. I meant I'm sorry he's such a bastard."

He shakes his head sadly, "I'm sorry that you had such a bad experience with Chris. I don't know the situation, nor do I want to. I'm sure that if I'm supposed to know, I'll hear about it. I also won't make excuses for Chris. He's gotten really, um, intense, over the last couple of years. I can't say as I like who he's become."

"Intense... that's one way of putting it. I can't blame you for not liking who he's become. He strikes me like he's some sort of zealot."

"Funny, that. He is the entire reason I decided to go into government work, after all. Though I chose the FBI instead of the CIA. I always looked up to him when I was younger, but I found the CIA to be too...deep... for my tastes.

"Anyway, I saw how proud his parents, my aunt and uncle, as well as my own, were of him. It got me thinking about being an agent, and the stories he told made it seem glamorous, so that settled it for me.

"Unfortunately, as I said, he's become really intense over the last couple years. If you ask me, it's that Admiral Volker he's been working hand-in-hand with. I'm not sure what an Admiral has to do with the CIA, but I guess that's above my pay-grade."

"Your cousin is some kind of special. We left him in Minsk. In my opinion, he's lucky I didn't kill him. If you want the truth, I'm not sure that option is completely off the table, should I see him again," I state sternly, giving Tony serious eye contact.

"Well, if I see him, I'll make sure to pass that along," he says quietly.

Conversation kind of dies after that.

* * *

*Trixie*

"Mindy, Trixie doesn't like that those FBI agents took her friend Irony away," the pale blue unicorn spoke softly.

"Oh, don't worry. She'll be back at the farm in a few hours. They won't be able to keep her long," the perky white unicorn said, a far-off cast to her features.

"What do you mean?" Trixie asked, confused.

"Hmmm? Oh, nothing. Hey, let's go, Soarin should be here, with Lightning Flash and Moon Shadow, to pick us up," Mindy replied.

"Flash?! Let's go!" Trixie said, bouncing almost as much as Mindy.

The two mares made their way to the edge of the airfield, where they spied the familiar shape of Irony's Oldsmobile. Inside they could just make out two pegasi and a unicorn. Opening the back door with her magic, Trixie practically dove inside, right into the waiting arms of Lightning Flash.

"Trixie has missed her Lightning Flash!" she murmured, smothering his muzzle with kisses.

A blue blur streaks out of the passenger door, bowling the white unicorn over before she could even get to the car, "Mindy!"

"Soarin, you silly billy pony!" she replied, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"I missed you so much Mindy! I hardly slept at all, I was so worried about you!"  the Wonderbolt gushed.

"I missed you too," she said, booping him on the nose with her hoof.

Flash, finally managing to catch his breath after Trixie's assault, said, "Don't ever leave me again! I was beside myself with worry the whole time you were away."

"Speaking of worried, where's Irony?" the grey unicorn situated behind the steering wheel asked, a hint of fear easily noticed in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Moon Shadow. Irony had to go to a meeting with the FBI. She'll meet us at the farm," Mindy told her, "She'll only be a few hours."

"I guess she can take care of herself..." Moon Shadow said quietly before putting the car in gear and turning toward the farm.

* * *

*Irony*

"We're here," John says, finally opening the door after what feels like an hour.

"Let's get this over with," I say, my voice devoid of feeling, kind of like the wonderful place they've brought me.

He nods, then they lead me into the flat gray building, lacking even a single window or door beyond the entrance we use. There are no distinguishing features, besides its lack of distinguishing features.

"Nice place you have here, John," I quip mildly.

"Yeah, my dream vacation spot," he replies with half a smile before waving his badge against the door frame. There's a metallic buzzing, and he's able to open the door. We file inside, him in front, Tony bringing up the rear.

We stroll past a few empty offices, down several equally empty corridors, and up to a simple, everyday elevator. Can't they do anything right? This place is so fucking normal, it screams covert!

John waves his badge across a blank square of wall next to the elevator. The doors open, making no noise, and we cross the threshold into the small square room. Tony punches the floor buttons in a seemingly random order, though I can tell it must be a password. After the last button is pressed, they both wave their badges in front of the panel. The doors close, and we whoosh down at a pace quick enough that I can feel my stomach drop.

After 30 seconds, we come to a halt, causing both agents to lurch slightly. The doors open just as soundlessly as they did before, and we step out into the hubbub of a fully functioning FBI office.

"Johnson, Malone, get your asses over here. About damn time you two imbeciles got back with your charges!" we hear yelled from across the room.

Both of my companions cringe at the arrogant voice. Oh, I can already tell I'm going to like this asshole.

A compact man storms up to us. He can't be more than 5' 6" and has to look up to all of us, though that doesn't seem to bother him none. He looks younger than I would have expected, late twenties.

He glares back and forth at John and Tony, "Who the hell is this bitch? And where the fuck are my packages?!"

"Sir, this is Irony. The other, ahem, package, did not arrive with the plane. We were told that she was flying home under her own power, and as such has not arrived," John answered, slipping into a blank-faced persona.

He looks me up and down, starting at my feet, like a piece of meat he's considering buying. After an insulting length of time, he speaks, though not to me, "You guys can't seem to do anything right. You were supposed to bring me two ponies. Instead you bring me one half-pony. Get her some damn clothes, and put her on ice in Interrogation Two. I'll be back."

"Yes sir," both of my companions intone before taking me by the arms and guiding me to a cold metal room.

Tony steps out, returning momentarily with an orange coverall. He hands it to me with a sheepish smile. I simply nod, then quickly don it, finally covering my nudity. John pulls out a pair of handcuffs, motioning for me to sit at the table. I take a seat and hold my wrists near a ring set into the table.

"I'm sorry, it's protocol," John says, his eyes begging my forgiveness as he cuffs me to the sturdy metal table.

"It's okay, John, I understand," I reply, drawing out a smile from the older agent.

They file out of the room, leaving me to sit in my lovely new outfit, looking like nothing so much as a convict. I shrug, chuckling to myself quietly, I hope they don't think this will actually soften me up. If they do, they're in for a big surprise. I know I'm probably in for a bit of a wait. Wouldn't do for me to think I was important.

I spend considerably less time alone than I expected, only about half an hour. The little Napoleon comes in carrying a thick folder and a cup of coffee. Without saying a word, he sits down across from me, setting out his cup and file, very carefully ignoring me.

He pulls some pages from the file, and makes an obvious point of reading them while sipping carefully at his coffee. Having been privy to more than one interrogation of enemies while on active duty, I realize he's simply going  by the book. I choose to remain silent, seeing how long it takes for me to wait him out.

"So. Tell me about your mission to Minsk," he starts in after only another ten minutes.

Apparently he's impatient as well as arrogant, what a surprise!

"And to whom am I speaking?" I quietly ask.

"That's not for you to worry about," he replies curtly. "Now, tell me about your mission."

"I will gladly answer your questions, just as soon as you tell me who you are and show me some credentials. I'm not in the habit of spilling my guts to unknowns."

He pauses for a moment. I can see his ire building, but he reaches into his jacket and pulls out his identification. He sets it down, sliding it over to me. I pick it up and look it over, "Special Agent Steinwick. Nice to meet you. I'm known as Irony Shieldbreaker." I proceed to tell him about the mission in detail, leaving nothing out, not even my own interrogation of Malone.

Steinwick's face is scrunched up in open anger by the time I finish the retelling, "You did what?! How dare you lay a hand on a Federal Agent!"

Staring into his eyes, I calmly answer, "I claim that right as a sentient being that is unwilling to watch a man commit murder right before my eyes without facing consequences for it!"

"Your right as a sentient being? Don't make me laugh! You ugly misbegotten whore! You're nothing but the product of bestiality between man and horse!"

"That's enough. I'm not here to be maligned by the likes of you. I've answered your questions, and now it's time for me to go. Release me," I hold up my bound hands.

"Ha! You seriously think you're getting out of here? Don't make me laugh. I've got orders concerning you. Both you and your friend. Too bad I didn't get her this time, but I will eventually. Mark my words," he replies, the smugness rolling off of him in waves.

I look again into his eyes, remaining quiet. Then I let a smile curl the corner of my lips. The self-satisfied smirk slips off his face. Finally, I speak, slowly, "You can release me, or I can release myself. Your choice."

He laughs again, "Not a chance. You're not going anywhere. Not yet, anyway."

"Fine, have it your way," standing up, I tense my muscles, and twist my wrists. The chain connecting the cuffs snaps like so much string. I see fear pass through Steinwick's eyes as he realizes that he's trapped in here with me, and he's unarmed.

His fear, however, doesn't stop his bravado, "There's nowhere for you to go. You'd be gunned down before you could even leave this room, you inhuman freak!"

I slam my fist down onto the table to get his attention, "Maybe so, but you'd still be dead."

The color drains from his face as he stares at the impact crater that I've left in the center of the solid metal table. After my show of irritation, I simply stand there, with my arms crossed across my chest, waiting.

I don't have long to wait.

John and Tony come storming through the door, guns drawn, looking for a target. Seeing me just standing there calmly, they don't know who to point their guns at. They finally settle for the ceiling.

"What's going on?" John asks us.

"I need to speak with General Thompson Barnes," I state, before Steinwick can speak.

"Wh-what? Why would you want to talk to him?" Steinwick manages to sputter.

"Well, for one, he's the one who presented me with the Medal of Honor," now it's my turn to smirk.

John leaves, though I can see a smile playing at his lips at how white Steinwick has become. Shortly, he returns, carrying a portable secure phone console. He hands it to me.

"General? Yes, this is Irony, you remember me? Good," I continue to elaborate on the situation to the General. When I finish speaking, I reach the phone out to Steinwick, "It's for you."

With trembling hands, he takes the receiver, "Yes sir?"

The conversation is quite short, but it leaves the Special Agent a shell of his former self.

"You're free to go," he whispers to me after hanging up.

John and Tony lead the way, back through the office and out to the waiting SUV. Along the way, I tear the orange coverall from my body, dropping it on the floor. Both of the agents with me nod in approval.

Once we are ensconced in the back of the vehicle again, Tony speaks, "How did you break the cuffs, and what happened to the table?"

Grinning, I reply, "Never, ever, fuck with an earth pony. We will mess you up hardcore."

His head nods, a pondering look on his face.

* * *

We ride in silence for about fifteen minutes before someone decides to break dark pall that has fallen over us. Surprisingly enough, it's John who does.

In an obvious attempt to change the mood, he asks, "Hey, Rookie, where are you from?"

Tony gives his partner an odd look, but decides to humor him, "Midland, Texas. Why?"

"I just realized we've been working together for over four months, and I don't know a lot about you. Where's Midland?"

"It's located at the bottom of the panhandle. Small city, less than 500,000 people, even counting the surrounding areas," the young man seems almost wistful as he thinks back to his hometown.

"I've always preferred the mountains, myself. You born there?" he asks, trying to keep the mood light.

"Yeah. Born and raised. Never even went out of state before I decided to try for the FBI. Let me tell you, it was a bit of culture shock, going to Quantico," Tony smiles, evidently having enjoyed the new experiences.

"I bet it was. It was a pretty big shock to me, being assigned a 24 year old newbie for a partner. I figured you'd still be wet behind the ears... and I was right," Tony grimaces at John's remark, but doesn't interrupt as he continues, "though, maybe not as much so as I was at your age."

"Hey, I'll be 25 tomorrow," Tony huffs.

"Yeah, so you'll be able to rent a car, finally," John chuckles at Tony's frown.

I haven't really been listening to their conversation, but this last has caught my ear, "Did you just say that you're turning 25 tomorrow?"

"Yeah. The big 2-5. Why?" he asks.

"Oh, no reason. Happy early Birthday. May it bring you everything you could wish for, and then some," I reply cryptically.