Mission: Implausible

by JohnPerry

Chapter 5: Reunited and It Feels So Good

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Hayview was the part of San Franciscolt that the locals liked to pretend didn’t exist. Situated on the southern end of the city facing the bay, the area was a far cry from the rolling hills of picturesque houses, streets and parks that made up most of the city, or even the bustle and tall buildings of downtown. It was a wasteland of shipyards, docks, industrial buildings, warehouses, roads and rail tracks that carried the huge amounts of freight that moved through the district.

So it was really no surprise that nopony would have suspected the building that Octavia was currently sneaking into was the site of any sort of illegal activity; despite its huge size, it was a nondescript warehouse which fit in perfectly to its surroundings. There wasn’t even a sign saying who owned the building. The grey mare crawled along the roof, quietly prying open the cover to a ventilation shaft and slipping inside. Her bow sword was strapped to her back, but she had opted to go without her normal disguise; it was quite pointless with these villains at this point.

Octavia crept through the vent, treading lightly so as not to make any noise. Her ears picked up the sound of conversation from up ahead and she silently made her way to a vent opening in the floor of the shaft. She peered through the slits in the cover, looking down at a large, well-appointed office. There were fine decorations, wood panelling on the walls and comfortable furniture, but what drew the cellist’s attention was who was occupying the room. Con Mane sat at one end of the office, accompanied by Carrot Top, while Gustave LeGrand and Mulia Mild stood at the other end.

“Oh, Connie,” Carrot Top cooed, clinging to one of Con Mane’s legs with one forehoof and stroking his mane with the other. “I love it when you take me places. You know I live for danger,” she purred, batting her eyelashes at the stallion. Above them, Octavia felt very sorry for this brave yet incredibly unfortunate mare.

“Anything for you, my darling,” Con Mane replied, grinning at the orange mare. “Would you mind waiting outside for just a moment? I have some business to take care of with these two,” he explained, indicating Gustave and Mulia. Carrot Top smiled and left the room, giving Mane a sly smile before exiting. The griffon, who had his arms crossed the entire time, grunted and shut the door behind her before glaring at Con Mane.

“You know, zis iz not much of a secret base if you keep bringing your petite amies here,” Gustave grumbled.

“I too am concerned about that filly,” Mulia stated. “Are you certain she can be trusted?”

“Golden Harvest? Of course!” Con Mane chided, waving a hoof dismissively. “My fillies would never betray me.”

“For our sake, I hope you’re right,” Mulia huffed. “Now let’s proceed with the meeting. Since the spies have been seen to, let’s settle the matter of next month’s distribution. The good news is that with the warehouse fire, we have a ready-made excuse for raising the price of flour considerably this quarter.”

Octavia rose to her hooves and continued along the shaft, leaving the sound of her enemies’ conversation behind her. The vent began to slope downward, forcing the agent to proceed carefully, pushing a hoof against each wall as she slowly made her way down. Through another vent cover she could make out the cavernous space of the warehouse, filled with stacks of bags and boxes of various baking ingredients ready to be distributed elsewhere. The vent, however, seemed to continue down, descending beneath the warehouse.

The slope of the ventilation shaft continued to steepen. Coupled with the increasing darkness of the shaft, it made it more difficult for Octavia to descend safely. The slick metal of the vent made getting a solid grip impossible, and a few times the cellist nearly slipped as she descended. Finally, the vent flattened out again and Octavia could make out light coming through another vent cover ahead. The grey mare crept towards it carefully, looking down through it to see a small, blank room containing only a few small furnishings and a familiar white-coated mare with a blue, spiky mane.

“Vin-” Octavia cried out joyfully as she placed her hooves on the vent cover, which promptly gave out beneath her. There was a great clatter and a brief moment of panic as the grey mare tumbled out of the vent and plummeted to the ground, landing ungracefully next to Vinyl, who looked surprised for but a second before grinning broadly.

“Hey, Octy,” she said cheerfully as the cellist groaned and picked herself up off the floor. Vinyl was lacking her goggles, but otherwise looked unchanged from when Octavia had seen her last. “Glad you could drop in. I knew you’d be coming soon enough!”

“You knew? How?” Octavia asked, looking perplexed.

“Well, I figured, anyway.” She looked up at the vent cover, which was hanging open off its hinges. “Sorry about the vent, that was my bad. I took out the screws holding it secure so that I could play with them.”

Octavia looked up at the ventilation shaft, which sat a good few meters above them. “How did you get up there?”

“I didn’t, I just unscrewed them with my magic,” the DJ answered, tapping her horn with a forehoof. “I thought maybe I could use the screws for some kind of unlocking device or something that could break a lock, but so far all I’ve managed to do is use them as quills.” To illustrate her point, Vinyl levitated one of the screws up and used the sharp end to dig a scratch in the wall. Now that Octavia looked, she could see that her friend had covered an entire section of wall with tic-tac-toe games, sheet music and draft designs for various devices. “This song is coming along really well,” Vinyl added, indicating the music sheet. “I just needed a day or two to relax and focus with no distractions. Captivity has been really good to me so far.”

Octavia ran a hoof along the heavy metal door that sealed them in, trying to slide her sword through the crack but finding it too narrow for the blade. The door itself proved resistant to an attempted stabbing with the sword. “I don’t suppose you could levitate me up there?” she asked, looking up at the ventilation shaft.

Vinyl shook her head. “Too heavy. I’m only good at picking up small objects.”

“Well, great,” Octavia grumbled. “Escape is sitting right above us, but it lies just outside of reach. We can’t get out the door, so-”

“Oh, we can get out the door,” Vinyl said, trotting up to it and lowering her horn down to the general area where the lock would be. A moment later, the sound of bolts sliding into the door and the turning of gears could be heard before the door swung open into a narrow, poorly lit hallway. “Pretty general design, really,” the DJ commented, taping a hoof on the door. “Supposed to be too complex for a unicorn to unlock with their magic, but if you know how it works then it’s a snap for somepony like me.”

Octavia stared at her friend, her mouth agape. “You...you mean this entire time you could have escaped on your own?

“Well, no, not really,” Vinyl replied calmly. “I could open the door, but I figured the building was secure enough that I would have an impossible time breaking out. That’s where you would come in,” she added, winking at the cellist.

“You...but...” Octavia sputtered. “You mean to tell me that you were locked in a cell you could have easily escaped from, sitting around, writing music and waiting for me to show up and break you out?!” she yelled. “Vinyl, I was worried sick about you!”

“Wow, you do sound like my mom,” the DJ snickered.

Octavia huffed and crossed her forelegs, staring coldly at her friend. “I think it is very inconsiderate of you not to be in mortal danger after I spent so much time fearing for your life.”

“...Okay, now not so much,” Vinyl replied, looking concerned and slightly spooked.

Octavia marched out the door and into the dingy hallway, grumbling under her breath as she passed Vinyl, who smiled despite herself. “So...how did you find me? Actually, for that matter, where am I?”

“In a supply warehouse on the southern side of the city, near the shipyards,” the cellist explained, trotting briskly down the hall. “That mare who has been following us is actually a double agent going by the names Golden Harvest or Carrot Top, and she was the one who led me here. As we speak, Con Mane and your two dear kidnappers are meeting upstairs planning cartel business.

“We have all our rotten eggs in one basket,” she continued, coming to a halt in front of a door at the end of the hallway. “Our objective now is to-”

“Blow up the basket,” Vinyl finished, grinning.

“...Actually, I was thinking we could have slightly less wanton destruction this time around, if it’s all the same to you.”

“But Octy! Wanton destruction!” the DJ pleaded. “I want a ton of destruction!

Octavia groaned, smacking her face with one of her forehooves. “Fine,” she said, standing up on her hind legs and unsheathing her sword. “Let’s just get this over with.” She took one look at the door before swinging her sword over her head and down upon the door, slashing off the handle and letting the lock mechanism fall to the ground with a loud clatter.

Golden Harvest burst into the main office room, looking panicked. “Connie!” she cried as the three cartel leaders turned towards her, surprised at her intrusion. “The two agents, they’re here! Octavia has broken Vinyl out and they’re making their way up here!”

WHAT?!” Gustave bellowed, whipping around to face Con Mane. “You told us ze were taken care of!”

“Apparently my information was mistaken,” he replied, glancing at Golden Harvest. “You two go down and see to them, we’ll follow you in just a moment.” Gustave and Mulia nodded and raced out of the room, leaving Mane alone with the orange mare. A distant boom, loud enough to rattle the walls and emanating from somewhere downstairs, underscored the urgency of the situation.

“Connie, I’m telling you, Agent Octavia got on the train yesterday, I saw it!” Golden Harvest implored. “You have to believe me, I saw it happen-”

“It’s alright, darling,” Con Mane said in an assuring tone, walking over to the mare and placing a hoof on her chin, lifting her face so that it was looking into his. “I don’t suspect you of any wrongdoing.” Golden Harvest gave him a small, hopeful smile.

Mane’s reassuring smile turned into a smirk and his expression became sly. “I don’t suspect you of wrongdoing, Golden. I know what you did.” The mare’s expression froze and traces of fear began to show. “Did you really think I didn’t know who you were? How my wannabe competitors hired you to look up on me?”

“I...” Golden Harvest paled and her mouth became dry. Con Mane gave her a toothy grin as he leaned closer, looming over her given his size.

“I like to look into the backgrounds of any mares I’m interested in. Call it a guilty pleasure,” he added, winking at her. “And you are an intriguing one. Trained in spy work but never a member of Her Majesty’s Secret Service. Tell me, how does a carrot farmer wind up working for the Pinkieton Detective Agency?”

“The same way a donut maker winds up in charge of a city, I suppose,” Golden Harvest ventured.

Con Mane chuckled. “Touché.”

“So...if you knew who I was, then...” The mare swallowed and she broke out in a nervous sweat. “What do you intend to do with me?”

“You know that old adage that says ‘keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?’”

Golden Harvest’s pupils shrunk and she tensed, readying herself to strike the moment the situation called for it.

“Well, I always thought that was complete nonsense,” Con Mane said with a laugh. “I don’t see you as an enemy. In fact, I see you and I being very good friends.” He took a seat on one of the plush couches in the office, inviting Golden Harvest to sit beside him, which she did with some hesitation. “What are these competitors paying you for this assignment? Because I guarantee you that it is a fraction of what I could give you.”

“You want to buy me off?” the orange mare asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, far more than that,” Con Mane answered, grinning slyly. “I want you by my side. Between the two of us we have everything we need to handle any of these fools from Her Majesty’s Secret Service.” The stallion took one of Golden Harvest’s forehooves in his own, his eyes boring into hers. “I have my wealth and power here, but you have the connections in Canterlot. With those, San Franciscolt could be only the beginning, my dear. Think of it: two former agents running the most powerful conglomerate ever known! What I’ve accomplished in San Franciscolt we could repeat in every city in Equestria!

“So, how would you like to help me run an empire, Carrot Top?”

“HIT THE DECK!” Vinyl bellowed, lobbing some sealed containers of baking soda vigorously shaken together with vinegar. Octavia ducked as her friend threw them over her head at some approaching guards, watching as the pressurized contents exploded as they hit the ground and showered the guards with a white, bubbly mixture.

“Wow, this place is full of baking soda!” the DJ exclaimed. “Hey, we could make like the biggest baking soda volcano ever with all this stuff! And the warehouse could be the volcano!”

“Do we have enough time to construct something like that?” Octavia asked, ducking behind a set of crates as the blinded guards stumbled back in a hasty retreat and a group of unicorn guards opted to just start trying to hit them with blasts of magic.

“Um...Nooo...” Vinyl answered slowly. “But it would be really cool is all I’m saying.”

“Focus, Vinyl,” Octavia insisted as a blast of magic tore off a piece of the crate she was crouched behind. “We need to take care of these ponies.”

“I’ve got just the thing.” Vinyl grasped her saddlebag, which she had managed to retrieve from a storage room near her cell, and began emptying its contents onto the floor. Octavia stared at the wide variety of objects in this growing pile, which included, among other things, some small metal instruments, rope, copper wire, flares, several gum wrappers, tweezers, electronic devices, the oxygen tank and masks they had both used earlier, various plugs and attachments, headphones, recorders, strings of beads, extra goggles and a rubber duck.

With the bag emptied, Vinyl promptly began shaping it into something else, rapidly unzipping side compartments which unfolded into new appendages, becoming boxier and growing in scale until finally, the saddlebag resembled a...

“...A stereo?” Octavia asked incredulously. Sure enough, Vinyl had shaped her saddlebag into what appeared to be a stereo system, with speakers that had folded out of the side compartments. “What good is a stereo going to do us?”

“Oh, poor, sweet, naive Octavia,” the DJ scoffed, picking up a pair of headphones from the pile of objects on the ground and plugging it into the stereo. “Here, put these on. Tell me, does this sound loud enough to you?”

Octavia reluctantly complied, holding the headphones over her ears as more magical blasts sped past them overhead. She frowned as she focused on listening to whatever it was Vinyl was trying to play while the DJ tweaked a few knobs on the stereo. “I don’t hear anyth-OW! OW! YES THAT’S LOUD!!!” she suddenly screamed, flinging the headphones off her head and directly at her friend’s face in her alarm. Vinyl took this in stride, smiling as the grey mare rubbed her ringing ears, trying to recover from whatever it was she had just heard.

“Mu-hu-hoh-hoh-hoh!” a familiarly nasal laugh reached them. The two agents started, realizing the hail of magical fire had momentarily ceased as one of the villains drew nearer. They peered around the edges of the crate, spotting Gustave LeGrand standing in the middle of the room, accompanied by many of the warehouse guards. “It iz hopeless, my little ponies! Surrender or moi, Gustave LeGrand, shall make an example of both of you!”

“Oh yeah?!” Vinyl hollered, standing on her hind legs and exposing her head to view above the crate. “Then you’d better be ready to bring the noise!” she exclaimed, slamming the stereo down on the crate so that it faced the griffon and the pony guards.

“Err...and what iz zat?” Gustave asked, peering at the stereo with an incredulous look that matched Octavia’s.

“Oh, it’s nothing special, it’s just my BASS CANNON!” she yelled, smacking a button on the top of the device, which promptly began to whirl into life. The speakers on the machine began to glow brightly as electricity crackled and the sound of overwhelming bass lines roared into existence, its heavy beat seemingly thumping through the very soul of every individual in the room. The cannon began to call forth the almighty power of electronic music, glowing with the strength of a thousand strobe lights; a blinding aura that caught everyone in the room in awe before...

...before the light began to fade and the music emanating from the machine began skipping rapidly, sounding less like the mighty beat of the universe and more like a broken record. There was a loud bang as one part of the machine burst, sending sparks and smoke in the air before the whole thing fizzled out completely. Octavia gazed at it for a long time before turning an angry glare on Vinyl.

The DJ shrugged. “It’s a prototype.”

“HOH-HOH-HOH-HOH!” Gustave laughed uproariously, raising his arms into the air and closing his eyes, which proved to be a strategic mistake as Vinyl, in her quick wit, found a new usage for the malfunctioned bass cannon: hurling it at Gustave’s face. The griffon promptly collapsed to the floor, knocked unconscious.

Right! Anypony else want a piece of me?!” Vinyl hollered. The guards responded with a volley of magical blasts, forcing the two agents to duck behind the crates again. The DJ kept up her thus-far effective tactic of throwing random objects at her enemies, using her magic to open the crate in front of her, which was filled with small bags of flour ready for display in grocery stores. She levitated some out before flinging them across the room. This proved to have rather spectacular results if one of the bags collided with a magic bolt, resulting in either a fiery explosion or simply a huge cloud of flour, depending on the nature of the magic used by the individual guard.

Octavia drew her sword, holding it in one hoof by her side. “Vinyl, give me cover! I’m going to-” She paused, her attention drawn by a strange whistling sound, like something rushing through the air. The grey mare turned around and barely managed to get her sword up in time to block the attack of a dark, hooded figure. Octavia had just enough time to recognize the form of Mulia before the mule moved impossibly fast, swinging her blade at the cellist’s head. Octavia ducked and Vinyl barely avoided injury, getting a few stray hairs on the top of her mane loped off before the white mare rolled out of the way of the swordfight.

Mulia fought furiously, using her frighteningly quick speed to push her advantage, but Octavia countered her every move. Even as she fought for her life, the agent couldn’t help but marvel at this elderly mule’s nimbleness. How she was able to move so quickly was beyond Octavia, but every swing was swift and forceful, with the cellist responding with coordinated, focused maneuvers to block her attacks, waiting for the right moment to strike back.

She found it a moment later. Despite her speed, Mulia needed to hold her weapon with both of her forehooves, while Octavia was capable of holding hers in just one. This gave the cellist just enough of an advantage in maneuverability to be able to land a blow. Mulia swiped across at Octavia’s side, but the mare caught the mule’s blade with her bow, holding it in place just long enough for the agent to lunge out with her other hoof and punch the villain square between the eyes.

Mulia staggered back, catching herself and crouching low to the ground before springing into the air and launching herself at Octavia. The grey mare sidestepped, narrowly dodging the mule’s blade and intercepting the next attack with her own sword. Vinyl stood to the side, hesitantly holding a bag of flour aloft within the grasp of her magic and looking for an opening where she could strike Mulia, but the swordfight was too fast for her to make any move.

Even with her mask on, it was clear that Mulia was growing increasingly frustrated, swinging her sword wildly to try and catch Octavia off-guard. In an attempt to strike a decisive blow, the villain rose up on her hind legs and lifted her sword high above her head, ready to bring it down on the agent. Octavia, seeing what Mulia had in mind, quickly dropped to the ground, landing on her side and swiping at the mule with her hindlegs, knocking Mulia off her hooves. She landed with a loud ‘thud’ as the grey mare sprung back to her hooves, brandishing her sword in anticipation of when the villain would suddenly leap up at her.

But Mulia didn’t get off the floor. She merely laid there with an extremely pained expression on her face. “Ooooohhh, my poor hip...” she moaned.

Vinyl and Octavia looked up at each other. The warehouse guards were all too preoccupied to pay the two agents any mind, as they were busy dealing with small fires, trying to clear their vision of flour dust or just flat out fleeing for their lives. This lapse in the fight gave the two musicians a chance to appreciate the fact that one of them had just beat up an incredibly elderly mule.

“You will not speak a word of this to anypony. Understood?” Octavia growled.

“I didn’t say anything,” Vinyl replied, grinning slyly.

“Then keep it that way!” the cellist snapped. She took a quick glance around before sheathing her sword. “Let’s find Con Mane while the guards are occupied.”

“Right,” the DJ said with a nod, using her magic to levitate her malfunctioned bass cannon back to her and fold it back into a saddlebag before hurriedly throwing the objects in the pile back inside. “Better see to ‘Le Grand’ here,” she added, using a section of rope to tie up Gustave.

“What about her?” Octavia asked, indicating Mulia, who still lying on the ground and moaning in pain.

“I...don’t think she’s going to be getting up on her own,” Vinyl replied. “You kinda saw to that.”

Octavia grimaced at the DJ. “Hush,” she grumbled.

“Ooohhh,” Mulia moaned again, looking up to glare at the two agents. “I’ll have you young mares know that you are both very rude! You’ll both be hearing from my lawyer!”

“Well, the nice thing about being a secret agent is that it’s hard to hold somepony liable when you don’t even know their identity,” Octavia explained airily, already marching out of the room as Vinyl quickly wrapped up her task and caught up with her friend.

The two agents slowly approached the door to the main office, readying themselves for what lay ahead. From out in the hallway, they could hear the pained cries of a mare coming from inside the office.

“That sounds like Carrot Top!” Octavia whispered urgently. “Somepony must be torturing her!” she added in a horrified tone.

“Con Mane must have found out about her,” Vinyl said grimly. She tensed herself, sneaking around to the other side of the door as Octavia slowly drew her sword. Carrot Top’s cries became louder and more frequent as the two glanced at each other and, with a curt nod, dove for the door at the same instant and forced it open, ready for whatever was waiting for them on the other side.

STOP RIGHT-AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!!!” Vinyl screamed in terror, flinging her forehooves over her face to shield her eyes from the awful sight that lay within the office. Octavia’s reaction was silent but no less horrified, her expression suddenly becoming very pale. In the middle of the floor was Con Mane and Carrot Top, the former with his usual suit and bowtie removed, laying together in a very intimate position. Suddenly, the reason for Carrot Top’s cries became all too painfully clear to the two agents.

UGH!” Vinyl yelled, backing out into the hallway to put as much distance as she could between herself and this act of intercourse. “Oh, for the love of...just...EWW!!!” she sputtered, shuddering violently. “Really?! With HIM?!

Octavia remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes off the pair. Carrot Top blushed furiously while Con Mane remained the only pony in the room to take the whole matter in stride, casually removing himself from the orange mare and slipping his suit back on. The grey mare opened her mouth to speak, but it took a long while for anything to come out. Finally, she managed to get out a feeble, “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve had a change of heart, Ms. Octavia,” Carrot Top said, still blushing but speaking in a confident tone. “I will be working with Mr. Mane from this point forward.”

“I told you I always get what I’m looking for,” Con Mane said, winking at Octavia. “No mare can resist me.”

“But, what about the other baking company you said you were working for?” the cellist asked Carrot Top, utterly bewildered by this turn of events. “Was that all just a lie?”

Con Mane chuckled, putting his bowtie back on. “Oh no, she was telling the truth. I’ve simply given her a better offer.”

“We are going to run this city together,” Carrot Top added, stepping closer to Con Mane and giving the stallion a half-lidded look. “Side-by-side.”

“Is it something in the water here?” Vinyl asked in an incredulous tone, sounding almost hysterical. “Seriously, what could any mare possibly see in this guy?!”

“No mare is impervious to my charms,” Con Mane said, straightening his bowtie. “Don’t try to deny it.”

“Oh, buck off!” the DJ shot back. “Wait, no, don’t. You’ve been doing enough of that today,” she added, shuddering. “Now listen: your two partners downstairs have been taken care of and the police are already on their way. Your cartel is finished, Mane.”

“On the contrary, this just means there’s only one owner rather than three,” he replied, smirking. “And I think you’ll find it difficult to dismantle our organization without the full set. Darling,” he added, addressing the mare standing beside him, “I think you and I should have some time alone outside the city. Somewhere secluded while we wait for this to blow over.”

Octavia stared at the orange mare. “Carrot Top-”

You may refer to me as Golden Harvest,” the mare shot back.

The grey mare remained silent for a moment before her expression grew severe. “So be it,” she said, drawing her sword. “We will end it here, then.”

“I think not, my dear fillies!” Con Mane cried before grabbing Golden Harvest with one of his forehooves while pressing a button on his watch. Suddenly a section of the wall behind the pair slid open to reveal an escape hatch. Before either of the agents could act, Con Mane and Golden Harvest backed into the hatch and raced down out of sight, the stallion pressing the button again to seal the entrance shut behind them before Vinyl and Octavia could jump in after them.

Octavia reached the wall just a second too late. “No!” she cried in frustration, banging a hoof against the wood paneling. “Come on, we have to follow them!” she yelled, turning around to head for the exit.

“Hang on, we don’t even know where he’s going,” Vinyl said, holding up a hoof to stop her friend. “Besides, I’ve got an idea. Give me your watch.”

The cellist looked confused but obliged, removing her hoof device and giving it to Vinyl, who held it up against the hidden door as she scanned the wall with her magic.

“What are you-” Octavia began.

“Trying to figure out the radio frequency Con Mane used to control this door,” Vinyl answered, cutting off her friend before she could finish her question. “Now to just program it into the watch, and...done!” she cried, grabbing it in her hooves and pressing a couple of buttons. “Now we should be able to listen in on Mane’s channel!”

Sure enough, within seconds they could hear the stallion’s voice coming through the speaker on the device. “Emergency, I am requesting an emergency evacuation from San Franciscolt. Have an airship ready for departure immediately.”

The voice of a different stallion began speaking. “Roger that, Mr. Mane. Shall we keep it on standby at the airport?”

There was a pause before Con Mane spoke again. “Negative. Any major points of entry out of the city might be monitored, and I need to move as quickly as possible. Are there any towers an airship can dock with within the city itself?”

“Only Sutrot Tower, sir.”

“Then send that airship to Sutrot Tower as quickly as possible. Over and out.” The call ended and Vinyl and Octavia looked up at each other, both with a small grin on their face.

“Shall we head them off?” the cellist asked with a tone that suggested they were about to leave for a pleasant outing.

The DJ grinned broadly. “Buck yeah.”

Next Chapter: Invaders Must Die Estimated time remaining: 26 Minutes
Return to Story Description


Login with