"He did what!" Starlight was infuriated with her subordinate, or at this point the better term would be 'Insubordinate'.

"Well, he nearly killed me what was I supposed to do! I was damn lucky to get the illusion up in time!" The mare spoke up.

The mare in question, though she was the same one that Cloud thought he killed, still was in one piece. She looked around the room, almost conveying her point that she'd rather be anywhere but standing before Starlight. It said yet another thing that she shouldn't have uttered.

"What made you think it wasn't him! He even said his name!" Starlight yelled at her... insubordinate. "Whatever, what did you tell him?"

"Well, I told him there was another bugout near his motel, that was it really."

"What do you think he'll do about it, do tell me."

The sarcasm was almost as the word itself translated to, the tearing of flesh.

"Personally I think he'll not follow it and step right along, it's not like what I said revealed anything."

"I think you should take a look around for a second. Get your head around something."

"What's that?"

"The fact that if he takes what you said seriously he could easily find another weapons cache."

"Like where?"

"He probably already found it."

And thus, the meeting ended.

Her breathing had steadied, it was the anesthesia. Her mouth had a gentle slit running diagonally across her mouth. I could only notice her scar because of the stitches, but it'd soon look like just another crease in the flesh of her lips. I looked down at her, the Makarov in my jacket pocket. I trusted nopony anymore, there wasn't a single pony that was who they said they were.

The doctors said nothing, there wasn't anything to say. So I walked through the open tent doors and went along my way, all the way back to the motel. It wasn't a long walk, but when I got there I finally noticed something, it wasn't much but it got my attention. Admittedly much more than it should.

'There's a weak spot in the drywall...'

When drywall is put up anypony can easily slice off layers of the stock and make it thinner, in which case lowers the price and durability. Looking at it the pony who filled it in was on one of two things, a serious budget cut or was hiding something. I knocked on it, gently as to insure that it didn't break.

The weak point went a lot farther than it should, which ruled out it being a repair as the rest of the drywall in the apartment was much thicker. It went from corner to corner, and it was shaped oddly, I knocked gently to see if I could confirm this. It sounded hollow. It didn't go far however, most likely only slightly between the layers of drywall that separated me from the room next door, which since the recent incident had been empty.

I lifted my knife up to my right ear, the window breaker facing the wall.

One swing

I swung hard at the greenish tinted wall, which slammed a hole directly through it and clunked against the wood that held the two layers of drywall together. I pulled my hoof out, ripping white shards of wall out and onto myself. I was coated in a whiteish tint as I kept swinging. It got so thick that I had to pull a rag around my mouth and nose to breath.

As soon as I could get a pony sized hole in through it, I entered with a flashlight.

I guess to anypony else, who'd definitely be out of touch with the situation, I'd look paranoid. It paid off however, I walked through the crawlspace, there were newspapers on the ground and signs that somepony had been here. Those signs were things like empty soda cans, beer bottles, and food wrappers. The wrappers crunched under my hoofs, whereas I avoided the bottles. Once I reached the end it was nearly pitch black save for two streaks of light, almost gentle in appearance, from both sides of the drywall.

I turned my flashlight off and crouched down to see where the light was coming from, it didn't fully register what I was looking at until it was too late.

You have gotta be kidding me...

On my left it looked through the eye of a pony in a painting that was in my room, giving a clear look at my couch. Although the eyeglass could be rotated, the dust indicated that it hadn't been for a long time. I turned around to the other.

The other room was a mess, brown stains on the walls and police lines everywhere, the officers must've not been on duty right now as nopony was there. They had bigger concerns and had already searched the place clean. The lines where the bodies were was visible to me, as the lights in the room was on. I pulled back from the peephole.

"Well. That explains a lot actually." I said to nopony in particular.

I looked around, there had to be some things I missed. There was a space where the dust was uneven, it looked like it was where a lawn chair was. The empty squares on the wall must've been where pictures at one point where. I looked around and found a glimmer in the distance, I shined my flashlight on it, an Yugoslavian M70 was against the wall, complete with an extra magazine and the weird 'Sorta like an AK yet not at all' hoofguard.

I picked up it, it was unbalanced thanks to it's under-folder style stock. It fired the standard 7.62x39, which was in my opinion the perfect intermediate carterage for unarmored opponents. I slipped the magazines into my jacket pocket and found my way out. That was when I slipped on something and tumbled into a wooden support beam.

I pulled myself up, a cut running across my cheek from the sharper end of the unusual rifle's stock. I looked back at what I slipped on, it was a note. I picked it up and pulled away.

There was no time to waste, that is before a noise complaint goes through. So I covered the wall with a bookshelf in order to keep anypony's prying eyes from noticing the hole in the wall. I also made a point to put tape over the left eye of the painting on the wall, just for good measure.

I sat on the couch and read the note to myself.

'Target: Cloud Dasher/ Octavia Melody.

Sex: Male and Female

Age: 25/28'

Well they already got something wrong, I'm 23 and Octavia is 22. Nice try.

'Aliases: The death bringer.

Possible connections: Multiple gang relations/Equestrian Government.

Height: 6'3 and 5'5

Weight: Unknown

Reward: 50,000$'

I skimmed over the biography of the targets, seeing as they were probably completely off. Once I got to the mission details I continued.

'Stop by 930 Hare Street for further instructions.'

Well that was easy, I hadn't been on Hare Street as far as I was aware so I guess it's the next point on my map.

I folded the stock under the rifle and put the magazines and rifle in my rucksack, the time was coming.

Author's Notes:

Well, I like to make it a point to only make Cloud Dasher use weapons that I've owned/fired/handled before, which is why I picked an AK as weird as the M70 from Yugoslavia. I've fired a couple and am currently investing in one so the way I see it is that they're almost exactly like an AKMS except for the fact that they have a different handguard, pistol grip, and have built in grenade launcher sights hint hint nudge nudge