"I really am sorry, Lieutenant," Phillip apologized again an hour later. "If I'd known that that was one of your boys, I would've—"

"It's all right," Lieutenant Yellow Ford reassured him from across his desk. He was a tall pegasus with a watery green coat and a sunshine yellow mustache, although his advancing age was indicated by the deepening crow's feet extending from his violet eyes. "It was an honest mistake. Though, if you'd told us that you were coming, we'd have appreciated your help. The Mareish Mob has been a pain in our collective arse for months now."

"I honestly didn't realize that Coin Toss was part of the Mob," Phillip explained. "He's been the primary drug dealer in Ponyville for months now: flooding my town with his poison." He hissed softly in disgust. "I was just trying to follow him back to find his supplier. Speaking of whom, has he said anything?"

"Yeah," Yellow Ford replied with a scowl. "He said he wanted a lawyer. And until he gets one, we can't ask him for the time of day."

"Great," Phillip muttered, standing up. "But there are other ways of finding information." Exiting the office, he trotted down the hallway, turning over his next move in his mind, considering every option and what he might lose and gain from every decision.

But then he heard a name, spoken by a familiar voice, from an interview room next to him that caused him to pause: "—Lyra." Pausing at the door, he peered through the small crack and saw Bon Bon, her mane disheveled and her eyes streaked with red, sitting in front of another Guard. "I tried to chase after them, but they were too fast! Those mob ponies took her, and I couldn't do anything about! I..." She broke down into tears, lowering her head onto the table.

Phillip's stomach turned over in his chest. He pushed the door open and entered, immediately moving to Bon Bon's side. Sensing his presence, she looked up and blinked at him through her tears. "Phillip? What are you doing here?"

"What happened?" he asked quietly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Bon Bon sniffled and began to explain the whole story, from her first encounter with the extortionists, to Lyra's brave stand to the kidnapping. Phillip listened in silence, never allowing himself to react externally save for asking an occasional question, but with every word, the coldness in his chest grew, extending down to his hooves. When Bon Bon had finished her story, he sat in silence for a few seconds, allowing the cold fury inside him to percolate into his brain, filling himself with icy resolution.

The solution appeared before him. Rising, he looked Bon Bon in the eyes and spoke calmly: "I'm going to get her back. I promise."

"Where are you going?" the Guard asked.

"The Green Bull," Phillip replied. "The bartender there lied to me. He probably knows more than he pretends."

"Good luck to you, mate," the Guard replied. "We've been trying to get something out of him for years, but he's locked up tighter than the Canterlot Vault."

"Any vault can be opened," Phillip answered, pausing at the door. "You just have to find the weak point."

"Let me come with you," Bon Bon said, rising up. "I might be able to help."

Phillip thought for a moment, then nodded and continued out. "Come on, then."

The familiar bell jingled to announce Phillip's entry into the bar. As before, every head turned to face him, some with curiosity, some with surprise, a few with open hostility and anger. The blue-bearded bartender's eyes widened when he saw him. "Oh, hell," he muttered.

"G'day," Phillip greeted him with his quietest, most carrying whisper, approaching him with a measured pace. Behind him, Bon Bon followed closely, glancing around nervously at the patrons who followed their path with owlish gazes. Subconsciously, she reached up and tightened the strap around her shoulder that held Lyra's shillelagh to her back, just to reassure herself that the weapon was still there.

Tavern glanced around nervously, as if trying to find an avenue of escape, but was pinned behind the bar and could only watch as Phillip approached, leering into his face.

"You lied to me about Coin Toss," Phillip growled. "So now you're going to start being honest."

"You just asked me if I'd seen him before you came," Tavern protested. "He arrived in town and showed up here after you'd left."

Phillip's eyes narrowed and darkened. "I happen to know that is a load of horseapples, because I know he arrived in Trotterford yesterday and was dropped off here by taxi. You want to try that again?"

Immediately, Tavern changed mood, a deep scowl crossing his face. "I don't particularly see how it's any of your damn business, snoop. And you'd best be wide about insulting me in me own bar."

Phillip was silent for a moment, glancing behind him to check the patrons for any potential threats, then turned back to Tankard. "I want you to meet somepony, mate. This is Bon Bon." He gestured for Bon Bon to step up. She trotted forward a half-pace, nervously meeting Tankard's glower. "Her wife, Lyra Hearstrings, was just kidnapped by the Mob," Phillip continued. "They're both good ponies, friends of mine. If you know anything about it—"

"I don't," Tankard cut in. "And it's none of my concern. I guess she'll just have to find some other wagon to get her hole in." He curled his lip at Bon Bon. "Unnatural little freak." And with that, he hocked and spat right into Bon Bon's face. She winced as the little goblet struck her in the cheek, slowly dribbling down her neck. A few of the patrons laughed out loud at the sight.

Phillip snarled and moved forward, reaching out to grab the bartender by the neck, but a hoof stopped him. Bon Bon held him back, slowly reaching up to wipe her face off with a tablecloth. "Let me take care of this," she said softly. Before Phillip could do anything to try to stop her, she stepped forward and bravely faced down the bartender, who seemed bemused by her sudden boldness.

"I don't care what you think of me," Bon Bon said softly. "But I'll have you know that I love my wife. She and my daughter mean everything to me." Suddenly, she snapped her hoof forward, grabbed the bartender around the neck and pulled him into her face, her eyes suddenly burning with malice. "So if you know something about her and don't tell me, then I will ***************** you ********** in the ********** like a ************! Got that, you ***********?!"

Complete, stunned silence fell over the tavern. Everypony, including Phillip, stared wide-eyed at Bon Bon, who glared right into Tavern's face. Sweat trickled into his blue beard as he considered his limited options, his throat convulsing like he was trying to swallow a rock. Finally, he burst out, "The Blackwater moors! Their headquarters is somewhere in the Blackwater moors! They've probably taken her there!"

"Thank you, dear," Bon Bon smiled, patting Tavern on his sweaty cheek gently before shoving him back against the wall.

"C'mon," Phillip said, taking Bon Bon by the foreleg and quickly guiding her back out the door. Every head followed them as they left, dozens of eyes searing into them right up until the door shut behind them. As soon as they were safe outside, Bon Bon let out a quivering sigh and began to tremble slightly, her body finally betraying her inner fear and anger.

"You should go back to the manor," Phillip advised her. "Tell Tootsie that I'll bring Lyra home. I promise I will."

Bon Bon took a couple of deep breaths, slowly bringing her shaking back under control. "No," she said, her voice determined and her eyes narrow. "I'm coming with you."

"Bon Bon, it's too dangerous," Phillip insisted. "You saw what some of those ponies were like in there. The actual mobsters are going to be worse."

"I know. But if I go back to the manor, I'll have to tell my daughter that I know where Lyra is. And she'll ask me why I'm not looking for her." She closed her eyes in shame. "And the only reason that I'll have for her is that I'm a coward. Tootsie deserves more than that." She opened her eyes and glared right at him in defiance. "I'm coming with you, like it or not."

Phillip considered her for several seconds of silence, then finally nodded slowly. "You stay near me. I'll keep you safe."

Bon Bon nodded slowly and gave a weak smile, following him back to the Guard station. "By the way, where'd you learn that kind of language?" Phillip asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"My father was a sailor," Bon Bon replied.

The makeshift cell was really a storage room for the mob's main "product." Stacks of white and brown powders wrapped in plastic lifted themselves up to the ceiling of the underground cave, adding their stink to the odor of wet dirt and rotting wooden reinforcements that hung in the air. Two mobsters stood at the threshold, leering at their prisoner; the dim light from the lantern hanging from a chain from the ceiling cast their faces in eerie shadow.

Lyra trembled as she looked back at them from the back wall. The ropes around her legs were beginning to ache, and she shifted to try to keep the circulation going: the raw, reddening burns in her skin reminded her that struggling was futile. At least her kidnappers had removed her gag and blindfold.

"Don't look so nervous, love," a red-headed unicorn sneered, revealing his yellowing teeth. "We just want to be friends, give you a warm hospitality."

"Real warm," laughed the skinny rat-faced pony next to him.

"Stay away from me!" Lyra shouted, attempting and failing to put some courage into her voice. Both of her guards laughed, leering in closer. Her heart leaping to her throat, Lyra pressed herself up against the wall in a desperate attempt to get further away from them.

At that moment, a series of booming footsteps could be heard approaching. The two mobsters immediately halted and turned, their faces blanching in terror as they snapped to a position of attention as a pony stormed up to them. This was a huge dark green earth pony, taller and wider than Big Mac himself with a flaming red mane and beard. His cutie mark was a coal black shillelagh with a huge knob on the end, not unlike the one that he was carrying in a sheath on his back, and his burnt orange eyes blazed with fury as he looked down on his two superiors.

"What exactly is she doing here, you blighters?" he growled nasally. Lyra noticed that his nose was twisted unnaturally, as if it had been broken several times and never repaired itself properly.

"We...she embarrassed us, boss!" the rat-faced pony whimpered. "She took down three of our boys back at the Heartstrings Manor, humiliated us in front of her whole clan!" Lyra grinned to herself.

"We had to strike back! Save face!" the red-headed unicorn explained. "We can't let the Mareish Mob become a laughingstock!"

"We also can't afford to get the whole Guard coming after us!" the boss snapped back. "And now that you idiots have just kidnapped a prominent citizen and brought her here, that's exactly what's going to happen!" With one movement, he withdrew the shillelagh from the sheath on his back and brought it down onto the unicorn's head with frightening speed, stopping just short of striking him. The thug went as still as stone in fright.

"I'll be teaching you your lesson later," the boss said coldly, slowly withdrawing the weapon. "It turns out that it's not as bad as you might think." He looked over at Lyra. His fiery gaze sent shivers up and down Lyra's spine and she curled up to try to make herself smaller, as if to try to avoid the gaze of a dangerous predator.

"The Guards can't find you here," he told her, a sneer crawling up his face. "And your family will pay a hefty ransom to get you back, little lady. Sure as my name's Blackwater Thorn, you're not leaving this place in one piece!"

"You see anything?" Bon Bon asked for the fifth time in the past half hour.

"Yeah," Phillip answered, peering through his monocular as he scanned the muddy marshes of the Blackwater moors. "A lot of grass and bushes, and not much else."

Bon Bon sighed and sat down on the wet grass beneath her. "Oh, this is hopeless," she moaned. "We're never gonna find her!"

"We definitely aren't going to if we give up," Lieutenant Yellow Ford told her, taking off his beret to wipe sweat from his brow. "Take heart, Bon Bon. If your wife is a Heartstring, then she's a strong one. We will find her."

"Promises, promises!" Bon Bon snapped at him in frustration and fear. "You keep saying we'll find her, but when?"

"Lieutenant! This is team four, we found something!" a voice called over Ford's radio. "We're flashing a signal mirror to guide you to us." As he spoke, a light began flashing on the horizon, guiding the searching Guards towards them like moths to a flame.

"Copy, on the way," Lieutenant Ford replied. "See? You just gotta stick with it!" he grinned to Bon Bon as he pursued Phillip across the moor towards the moors.

"Wait for me!" Bon Bon panted, jogging after them as they raced off without her. When she finally reached the light, she found several Guards gathered around an abandoned carriage that was stuck in the mud. Phillip was crouching near the wheels, examining the ground for any clues.

"Bon Bon, is this the carriage that they used?" he asked without looking up.

Bon Bon had to catch her breath before answering. "Yes. Yes it is, I'm sure."

"It's empty. Looks like they got stuck and had to abandon it." Lieutenant Ford whistled through his teeth. "Well, that's a fret, isn't it?"

"I got tracks here," Phillip reported, bending over a trail of hoofprints on the ground. "At least eight ponies. This one's tracks are the deepest; I think he was carrying Lyra." He started to follow the tracks, bending hound-like over the marks. The Guards followed close behind; Bon Bon brought up the rear, clutching a cramp in her chest as she did so. Over hill, over dale, the group followed the hoofprints across a half-mile of moors and up a rocky hill. At the top of the hill, the group paused to catch their breath and gather their bearings. On the other side of the hill lay a valley. Settled into the valley was a small village constructed of stone cottages.

"The trail leads into that village," Phillip said, already starting to descend, but then stopped, looking around. "Where's Bon Bon?"

One of the Guards looked back, peering down the hill. Bon Bon lay several feet below them, panting heavily. "Little help?" she called up. Shaking his head, Phillip walked down the hill, lifted Bon Bon up onto his back and carried her up and over the hill. The troops marched down into the village, trotting down packed dirt streets. Dozens of stallions, mares and foals paused whatever activity they were doing to watch the parade, eyes wide in surprise. When Phillip passed, still carrying the humiliated Bon Bon on his back, the titters of their observers followed them.

A wide-shouldered dark brown earth pony with a scruffy blue mane and a generous gut approached the group. His cutie mark was a tall glass of milk and a hunk of cheddar cheese; mud stained his forelegs almost up to the elbows. "Well, it's been donkey's years since we've had the Guard down in our humble abode," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm Skim Milk; you could say that I'm sort of the head of this little town of ours. What can I do you for?"

"We're looking for a kidnapped mare," Lieutenant Ford replied. "We've followed the trail of her kidnappers to this village. Have you seen anything strange recently?"

Skim blinked in apparent surprise. "No, I haven't heard of any kidnapped mares here." Towards the back of the group, Phillip set Bon Bon back down on the ground, his narrowed eyes focused on the farmer.

"We're going to have to take a look around your village and question some of your neighbors," Ford answered, signaling his Guards to spread out.

"I'm sure you'll find that there's only honest ponies here, sir," Skim Milk replied. "If you need me, I'll be at me farm." He tilted his head back towards a farm slightly removed from the rest of the village before turning on his tail and walking back to the farm.

Bon Bon looked around the village, at the dozens of faces staring back at her. Not a single one looked familiar, and her heart sank in her breast. "What do we do now?" she whispered, more to herself than anypony else.

"We keep looking," Phillip replied, walking into what looked like a small pub in search of both a drink and some information.

Author's Notes:

Bon Bon's got a very...interesting vocabulary. And wow, there's a lot of Irish slang in this chapter.

I'm simultaneously juggling this story and three writing assignments (the smallest of which is five pages at minimum), and I had to battle through a bad case of writer's block to finish this chapter. But I did it. I hope you're all enjoying and are looking forward to the next!