The car wasn't in the best of shape. It was an automatic ford van that clearly needed a tune up on it's transmission. The part previously listed had trouble changing gears. The suspension was a problem as well; the van rocked back and forth at any speed beyond 55 MP/H. I had to keep at 50 MP/H as I left Canterlot through the North gate. Passing through it only required a small toll.

"Who were those guys?" Octavia broke the silence.

"My guess is as good as yours, my bet is they're mercs. They were armed far too well to be some gangster or thug on the block."

"So you mean someone is paying to kill us?"

"Well that's what I do. I don't find it odd that somepony else does it to."

"Well that's not what I meant. I meant that who would be hiring them?"

"Somepony that knows I'm onto them, and the only pony I'm onto is Starlight. I'd guess they were hers."

I pulled up through a toll booth; I put the change in the booth's box. It slid down into the slot, and the electric gate was raised. I drove through at a solid rate and made my way through to 'Our Town'. It was quite the ways away, so I'd have to stop in the neighboring cities for supplies. The first (and probably only) city that we'd need to head through was Whinnyapolis.

Whinnyapolis is famous for it's coffee, which the mayor of Whinnyapolis makes very clear in most of her speeches. I've never been so I've never really cared. The people of Whinnyapolis look up to her though. It'd explain how she's served 5 consecutive terms in office. All I know is she doesn't look half bad. Knowing nothing about Whinnysotian politics, I'd probably vote for her because of that.

Octavia was bored to hell in the car, we had driven two hours and were 4 hours out from Whinnyapolis. She passed the time by turning on the radio or rummaging around the ex-owner's stuff in the back of the van. It was practically a house, they had a bed in the far back and a microwave attached to the back car charger port. Wasn't exactly a luxury vehicle, but it'd do for them. The fact they only had one bed would have some issues though. Did they take turns on who got it and the others just slept in the seats? Beats me.

The radio was playing classical music; Octavia's choice not mine. It calmed her down a bit after that shootout at the apartment. It did a number on how the stress she was under. Unfortunate I know, but I think after a while she'll get used to it. I sure as hell did.

I heard the sound of a pump shotgun in the back; in a fit of fear I threw the car into a swerve to the right, through 2 lanes of traffic. I barely made it to the edge of the road without hitting a car. I looked back to see Octy on her head; her tail touching her nose. She looked up at me, and I looked past her at the Mossberg shotgun that was in the back.

It wasn't one of the cheap Mossbergs, it was a 590 twelve gauge shotgun. The Mossberg 590 is their full length model of the Mossberg 500 sawed off, both of them chambered in 12 gauge unless modified to fit the 10 gauge. Something wasn't right about it, it was far too new for some mercenaries to have acquired.

"Hey Octavia, pass me that."

She managed to get to her hoofs and grasp the firearm in her mouth, she pulled it over to me in the drivers seat.

"Not even a warning. No sorry?" She was more then irritated.

"Don't pump a shotgun without warning me, you're lucky I didn't pull my handgun and shoot first."

"Good point."

I pulled my attention to the weapon.

"Well this is odd."

"What?"

"The etchings. Look at them."

"Well I'll be..."

The etchings never lie; they were put in by the factory itself.

'Property of Griffonstone law enforcement.'

I couldn't piece it together. Did Griffonstone have something to do with this? They had to, nopony else would be able to access a police issued armament. It was even harder to believe they could pull a standard issue firearm off the rack unnoticed. Something wasn't right. I had a flashback to a night in Ponyville, just soon after I had gotten the contract.

"Well, never thought you'd say that Cloud. Listen, if you need more info just listen. The firearm you acquired (along with most of the other ones in the building) were taken from Ponyville government issued arsenal. The one kept for the Police Force as a impound for confiscated weaponry. So in short, the only pony who can access those with no record would be Mayor Mare. It's likely now that their weapons, which were confiscated, are now back on the rack there."

Twilight had said that.

If Starlight had connections in a town as normal as Ponyville, it'd be easy for her to have connections in a rundown shit hole. She promised them twenty bucks and they'd be all over it. It makes a lot more sense than Mayor Mare's reason. She just wanted some money for herself.

"Octavia, you're a good driver right?"

"Well I'd like to think that I am. Want me to take the wheel?"

"That'd be nice; just follow the map."

She switched seats with me, and I stood in the back. The shotgun was in pristine condition. Not even a scratch lay on the barrel, trigger, or stock. It certainly wasn't new though. A quick inspection of the barrel revealed that there was quite a bit of wear from firing. My guess: they just are good about cleaning their weapons on everything but the barrel.

I put the Mossberg in a seat next to me, I wanted to see what else they had packed. I threw some civilian cloths off to the side, a case of 12 gauge shells, and some bathroom supplies. I stumbled across something irregular though, a set of pictures. It had one of Octavia, I couldn't tell what she was doing but it was her. The picture was taken from outside the windows, so these guys must've been watching us. Keeping that in mind, I folded that up and put it in my pocket. Under it was a picture of me, it was from a group photo when I was in the Royal Guard. It featured me in my OD Desert camouflage and a thick layer of Kevlar. I wasn't wearing a helmet in the shot but I was wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses. My face was circled in red highlighter.

I folded that up and put it in my jacket as well. I'd tell Octy about this when she wasn't driving. I pulled through the next item in the bag, and they were firearms. The next thing I removed was a Walther PPK semi-automatic handgun. This wasn't the original one, the original wasn't chambered in the .380 APC. I put that back in the bag, I'd let Octavia carry that. The next few items were just ammunition, family photos, things like that. I threw the family photos out the window.

"What were those?"

"Junk."

She didn't ask any questions about that. There were other things in the bag like combat boots and vests, I would sell what I didn't need. I moved to the next bag; it was obviously a rifle bag. I unzipped the bag and immediately jumped back. I didn't pull it out of it's case. It was a Remington CSR Collapsible Sniper Rifle. Firing the .308 this rifle was excellent at long range warfare. Above all else; it can be folded to fit in a jacket. It was the perfect weapon.

It was fully collapsed, barrel and hand guard removed from the rifle and in their respective places. Anypony else would probably dismiss it was broken, but I knew better. The barrel screws in to place on the receiver, whereas the hand guard clips onto the receiver and stays in place. It came complete with a hefty scope on the edge of the rifle bag. The scope appeared to be a x12 zoom optic. I couldn't tell yet, I'd find out when we get a place to stay.

I placed the rifle back with respect, it was gorgeous. There was one final bag in the back, it was a lot smaller and easily a handgun bag. I unzipped the front and a handgun fell out of the case. I picked it up to confirm that it was something far better then the M1911A1. This weapon was a Glock 22 Generation 4. This was the .40 Smith and Weston variant, so I had nothing to worry about on stopping power or mag capacity.

I placed it back in the case. Opening another pocket revealed that it was filled to the brim with bits. Never can get too much cash. I'm willing to bet that this was their paycheck. I checked the side pocket of the bag, and out fell a garote wire. Strong, dependable, and silent, the garote wire is a perfect choice for what I do. I put that in the same pocket as the pictures.

About 45 minutes had elapsed from when we had switched seats. Octavia had since changed channels. Now the radio was playing hard rock songs. I recognized the song playing now as 'Make me want to die' by the pretty reckless. Not a bad song.

"Hey Octavia, I thought you only liked classical?"

"What? So I can't have other interests?"

"You sorta give off that impression..."

"Well things aren't always as they seem."

She sounded irritated on that note, so I stopped talking. I was tired, so instead of advance to the front seat, I moved to the bed in the back. I closed the blinds, and was met by a nightmare.

"It's all your fault." It was dark, I couldn't tell who was talking. I'd like to say I recognized the voice, but I couldn't.

"What do you mean? What's my fault?"

"Everything." I could hear it get closer.

"Well start somewhere!" I reached for my handgun out of fear, but I touched an empty holster.

I was introduced to a blinding light. I closed my eyes to avoid adjustment, but eventually I opened them. All I saw was the filly from Filthy's house. Dangling upside down, no head or neck, blood pouring from her lifeless body. I heard the voice again.

"And it's all your fault. Think about it each time you pick up your gun, each time you pull the trigger. It is all your fault."

I felt something breathing down my neck, I turned around and saw Mayor Mare, gaping hole where the pole once was. She too was bleeding, but much more she was rotting away. Her skull was partially visible, and the maggots had already started their work.

"It is all your fault."

I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I tried again and again. Nopony would hear me. I then found myself in a familiar landscape. The mayor quivering at my knees, while she was tied to the tree. I could see every inch of fear in her eyes. This time, however, I felt it as well. I put the pipe against her, but I felt it against my own chest as well.

"Ponies like you could only care about yourself." I heard myself say.

"It's not true! You don't understand! It's not like that!" They were all thoughts.

That was when the first swing happened, I could feel the thrash against my chest. I felt every bit of fear as I hit the pole further and further. I felt the pain as it slowly impaled my body. I wanted it to stop, but the pain never did. This was my hell, it is my prison. As soon as the pole impaled me I awoke.

I screamed as loud as I could, Octavia had stopped the vehicle. She had obviously done it long ago, because she had been shaking me. Trying to awake me I see.

"What was that?"

"Just a nightmare Octavia, you get back to driving."

She did as she was told, we would be in Whinnyapolis in one hour.

Author's Notes:

Well sweet Jesus that was boring. Well I hope that nightmare made up for it. Sweet dreams