Eclipse IC (Tactical Horror/Vampire Outbreak/Character RP)

[Khasinkonia]

Special Agent Briley, Josephine F.
idësjenigwas, nosanima ilëdado gidugas didoslësoweja’a, igena’i, igëtl(u) aya’a

Josephine was never the best at parachuting, frankly. Even in the excitement of the drop, though, she couldn’t help but notice Markwell’s lag in opening his parachute. Her mind raced as she did everything she could to steer in his direction. It was surely her mistake; Markwell knew what he was doing. Time felt agonizingly slow as she clenched her jaw in hopes of willing the wind to bring her where she was supposed to be. And then, the crash. It wasn’t going to be a soft landing, but it sounded worse than it was supposed to. Josephine tried to fixate on where Markwell had landed from his quicker plummet, but for all she’d worked, reflexes could only go so fast, and she was nearing her own landing too.

It was always going to be a damned tree, wasn’t it? Josephine felt her organs push down as her entire parachute caught on a tree, leaving her suddenly dangling. She patted her sides down and grabbed a knife after what felt like probably too long. The last strands snapped themselves for her weight, and Josephine hit the ground with a thud, but no crunch, thankfully. It was a longer drop than she’d imagined, anyway. But that may have been time’s little trick playing again. She blinked rapidly to try to adjust her eyes more quickly from the comparatively brighter environment aboard the plane, and started to get her bearings. Sparser canopies made for easier navigation, but if Markwell had gotten moving, it would still be a pain to catch him. Josephine moved quickly through the woods in the direction she recalled Markwell being headed relative to her.

Finding him wasn’t actually as hard as she thought. Despite the rough terrain, she was progressing at a good clip, and the woods weren’t so dense that it was hard to see a decent distance ahead—and they were getting less dense by the pace. She scanned her surroundings as quickly as she could. At last, she laid eyes on Markwell. He didn’t look to be in a good way, seeing as how he hadn’t gotten down from his parachute yet. He was writhing like a bug caught in a web. As she got closer, he seemed to panic more.

“Agent!” she hissed, “Nobody but me here; lemme get on up there and help you!”

She made her way over to the tree and started climbing. When she reached him, she spoke again, more quietly as she pulled out her knife.

“Agent Briley, reporting for duty.”

She made short work of the parachute from the outside, and then replaced her knife to grab a light. She held it in her mouth and offered her free hand to Markwell.

[Arengin Union]

Hot Zone I
Co-written by Arengin Union, Khasikonia, Theryra, Intermountain States, Dyelli Beybi, United Islands of Polis, Ardchu & The United Federation of Terrans

---

As Griggs and his team cautiously moved through the dilapidated building, their senses on high alert, they encountered only remnants of what once was. The two-story structure stood as a grim testament to a life now lost, its stone balcony jutting out precariously from the second floor, weathered and worn by time and neglect.

Inside, the air was heavy with the stale scent of decay, and the team navigated through the debris-strewn rooms with a sense of grim determination. They found signs of human habitation – dried bloodstains, scratch marks on the walls, and scattered remains – all chilling reminders of the horrors that had unfolded within these walls.

Despite the ominous signs, the building appeared deserted, devoid of any immediate threat. Griggs and his team meticulously cleared each room, checking every nook and cranny for any hidden dangers, but they found no sign of the ferals they had anticipated encountering.

As night pressed on, the wind outside began to howl, whipping up clouds of dust and debris that obscured the landscape beyond. Griggs, standing on the balcony overlooking the desolate surroundings, knew they were running out of time.

With a sense of urgency, he turned to Comms Specialist Aiko Nakamura, ordering her to troubleshoot the communication issues that had plagued them since their arrival.

"Nakamura, what's the status on those comms? We need to get them up and running," Griggs demanded, his voice laced with urgency.

Nakamura nodded, her fingers flying across the keyboard of her laptop as she worked to diagnose the problem. "I'm on it, Captain. Just give me a moment," she replied, her voice steady despite the mounting pressure.

Meanwhile, Griggs surveyed the horizon, his keen eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of movement. In the distance, he caught sight of rapid, frenzied figures darting towards their position, their unearthly screeches echoing through the night.

Realizing that they were about to be overrun, Griggs sprang into action, deploying another blue flare to illuminate their surroundings. With grim determination, he rallied his team, instructing them to fortify their position and prepare for the impending onslaught.

"Get ready, everyone," Griggs barked, his voice cutting through the howling wind. "We've got company incoming. Keep your eyes peeled and your weapons at the ready. We hold this position at all costs."

As the first waves of ferals closed in, Griggs tightened his grip on his rifle, his jaw set in a steely resolve. They may have found temporary refuge in this abandoned building, but their fight was far from over.

Graves had two complaints about the current situation.

The first was he was currently holed up in a house about to be overrun by ferals. The second was he was using a Glock.

A borrowed one from Horowitz perhaps; but a Glock nonetheless.

“If I die. Please don’t let them know I used this piece of crap.” The breacher wasn’t talking to anyone in particular as he stepped up to a window and peered out in the dancing, flare illuminated surroundings.

Éaighnon would sigh deeply, before preparing himself for the fight ahead. Close quarters was his thing, although it might be tough. He kept his wits about him, and made sure everything was loaded and ready for action.

Roscher was scared, but knew that he could maybe wire something up without bringing the building down... maybe a incendiary rigged up here, a tripwire there... it just might work. For a little bit, or at least give them some more visibility.

"Hold fire! Im friendly!" Chloë had finally managed to find her easy back to the group, but then found herself between people with guns and feral wanting to snack on her. After about 3 seconds of thought she had opted to run towards the gun and hope nobody mistook her for a vampire. Yelling she was friendly was hopefully enough to get them to pause long enough to recognise her voice, silhouette... or anything really.

There was a brief moment of silence before the front door swung open with a squeak and a massive form filled its frame.

“Get in here Dutchie!!!” Graves gave a swing of his arm to exaggerate his point.

Chloë didn't need to be asked twice, she sprinted for the doorway, flinging herself through it. Though she didn't stop there, "Where do you need me?" she called as she readied her rifle, her breath ragged from the desperate sprint.

Graves closed the door before he shoved a cabinet, previously barricaded in front of it, back into place.

“Pick a window. More then enough lunes inbound.” The breacher gestured at the broken down house around them. All the while methodically removed frags from a pouch and lining them on a broken counter. A row of half a dozen grenades ready to be tossed.

As the chaos of the impending battle loomed within the dilapidated house, Griggs heard the commotion from Chloë, a surge of relief flooding through him as yet another team member found their way to safety. But his relief was short-lived as he spotted more lunes emerging from the horizon, their unearthly forms silhouetted against the darkness.

Without hesitation, Griggs deployed another pair of flares at the perimeter of the house, casting an eerie glow that illuminated their surroundings. He moved past Nakamura, who continued to fiddle with her computer, her brow furrowed in concentration. Griggs didn't wait for her to respond as he took hold of her ACR rifle and ammo pouch, a silent understanding passing between them as he moved into the house .

Making his way to where Graves and Chloë were, Griggs looked at Chloë "Glad you made it Two..."

Then, with a swift motion, he tossed the ACR rifle to Graves.

"Make each shot count lieutenant. We're gonna need all the firepower we can get," Griggs commanded, his voice firm with determination.

Griggs then turned his attention back to the balcony, his grip tightening as he set the enhanced sight of his MK18's hybrid scope. As the incoming wave of ferals drew closer, their grotesque forms looming ominously in the darkness, Griggs steadied his aim, his finger poised over the trigger.

"FIRE AT WILL!"

With a steady hand Griggs unleashed a barrage of gunfire upon the approaching horde, the deafening roar of his weapon echoing through the night. Each shot found its mark, striking down the oncoming lunes with deadly precision as they closed in on the besieged house.

Graves leveled the red dot on the first form he could make out of the gloom. The unfamiliar rifle shuddering in his grip as the burst knocked the feral back briefly. Then it was clambering to its feet again. In time for his second, longer burst to send it sprawling.

Then a second form took its place. Graves’ aim shifting to it as he touched off the trigger again.

Chloë,meanwhile, was as mechanical as she always was. Find target. Fire. Next target. She sat back from the window, resisting the urge to get too close in case something outside made a lunge for her.

’Its a whole herd of lunes’

Graves tried to keep his thoughts calm at the growing mob he could see in his side of the house. Bursts of gunfire lashing out and sending ferals reeling back.

But they were still gaining ground. Scrambling and clawing over their fallen.

“Frag out!!” Graves armed and tossed the first of his pre-positioned grenades. The crump of its detonation muffled slightly by the bodies pressed together. The howls of the survivors echoing with the fading blast.

Horowitz and Sim were at the second floor, Horowitz occupying one of the windows while Sim has his M4 trained from the stone balcony. Both begin to fire at the oncoming horde of ferals as soon as they heard Griggs's orders.

After firing a few bursts from his M4, Sim loaded a 40mm into his under barreled M320 and let the satisfying "Thump" play as the grenade was let loose and flew towards the vamps. He saw a small explosion from the distance and a couple of lunes and their body parts flying. After a brief grin, he loaded in another 40mm but continued firing at the ferals, only switching to under under barreled when he sees a cluster.

Horowitz had her sights focused on the lunes and fired bursts after burst at the ferals. The entire house was firing at the vamps yet the lunes seemed endless.

"Are we being attacked by the entire population of the city?" she wondered as she inserted a fresh magazine into her carbine. She turned to her left and noticed Sim firing another blast from his grenade launcher before turning back to the window and continued her shots.

Graves’ satisfaction at the grenades, his and Sims’, faded as he caught sight of the wounded lunes.

They were missing limbs, disemboweled partially, but they were still coming. Screeching as they dragged, crawled, limped their way alongside their sprinting fellows.

“We need bigger guns sir!!!” Those suffering direct hits were staying down but the wounded were coming back for more.

Michaels was on the first floor silently aiming down the sights of his rifle as pulled the trigger and let his bullets fly on Grigg's orders. Even with Graves and Sims' grenades' they still kept coming despite their wounds.

Still he kept firing at the incoming vamps with steely resolved. Tossing out his own grenade out when his rifle ran empty and he quickly reloaded his rifle. Seeing a group of vamps get messed up by the explosion.

The odds were not great but, Michaels was not keen on dying tonight despite it and could only hope that can hold out.

"Stairs are a good choke point," Chloë remarked without lifting her eye from the sights of her rifle.

“Cept these lunes climb like f’ing geckos.” The breacher commented as he swapped a magazine. Punctuating his comment with another burst and a second frag.

"Oh God, not again." was the only thing running through Marshall's head as he kept firing his M4. He felt lucky that he had the hindsight to switch out the CQB barrel he used in LA for a slightly longer one. At this point he kept the fire selector on three-round burst because God knew how long they'd have to stay there.

In a weird twist, the PEQ-16's UV light was powerful enough to deter some ferals for just a bit as they suddenly got shined on by what was essentially a mobile sun. But from the first floor he couldn't notice. His main concern at this point was making sure he didn't die, no one else on the team dies, and that no ferals make it in. His M4 clicked empty and Marshall put the gun down, grabbing his frag grenade, pulling the pin, and then tossing it out the window in an underhanded toss.

They were getting too close for his liking. He switched to full auto, muttering to himself. "Please, please, God not again! Don't force me into a corner again!" Silently pleading to the Lord or anyone within earshot. But then again, with the symphony of destruction, who else would have been able to hear?

"Basement?" Chloë suggested, swapping her magazine a few moments after Graves, "I'm not sure there are enough of us to cover all angles of approach."

The deafening sounds of gunfire echoed through the dilapidated house and beyond the desert as Griggs maintained his position, his eyes focused on the ferals. With each shot, he fought back the encroaching beasts, the team's determination was steadfast despite the odds stacked against them.

Suddenly, a feral leaped up towards the balcony in the direction of the captain, its grotesque form mere feet away from Griggs. Before it could reach him, the feral exploded in a mess of blood and guts as Sim unleashed one of his grenade rounds with lightning speed.

Griggs nodded in gratitude towards Sim before turning to Nakamura, "We need comms, now!"

Nakamura's brow was dripping with sweat as she rapidly tried to find the issue with the communications system. After a tense moment, she finally deciphered the problem, identifying it as some type of communications scrambler, possibly TE, she mentally deduced.

"We've got it!" Nakamura exclaimed, relief evident in her voice as she brought out the radio to Griggs. "You're connected with command."

Griggs wasted no time in contacting Command, his voice frantic, "X-Ray 12, X-Ray 12, blue monday, blue monday!"

A cackled voice came over the radio in a manner in seconds, "X-Ray 12 this is Overlay Sunder, we expected your confirmation an hour ago, how copy..."

"We had to drop early and are under siege by ferals," Griggs explained urgently. "Requesting air support and immediate extract."

There was a brief pause before Overlay responded, "Understood, X-Ray. We'll do everything we can to get you out of there. Transmit your coordinates, and we'll scramble QRF and any available support."


"Copy and out!"

Griggs said as he looked at Nakamura, "transmit our coordinates!" He ordered as he turned back to the position.

Several vamps began to crawl up to the balcony, Griggs fired at one's head and burst another at the chest, sending it reeling backward. With a determined look, he turned to the team.

"Hold the line, everyone. Support is on the way. We can't afford to let up now."

Graves backed up from his downstairs windows, still firing, the bodies beginning to pile up as they threw themselves into the breach. The opening clogging with corpses even as fresh ferals tried to shove them out of the way.

“What crazy bastard would come into this shitshow?”

---

“Mako 2 to Mako Actual. We’ve reached the turnoff and we can hear smalls arms.” Captain Jessica Fisher-Graves gave a tilt of her head as she climbed up further in her command cupola and opened the hatch.

The steady whipping of the wind barely audible over hit growling of the convoy’s engines. But she could hear the distinctive roar of automatic fire mixed with the muted thunk of grenades in the distance.

‘At least we aren’t late to the party’

The thought passed through her mind as she dropped back into her Stryker and toggled the company comms.

“That must be X-Ray and it sounds like the spooks still need our help. Mako 2 will continue on to X-Ray down the road. Mako 3, divert to that clearing two clicks off. Set up a perimeter and be noisy about it. Draw some of these lunes off. Me and Mako 1 will swing around to the North and try to cut the horde off.”

She toggled her computer display m. Helpfully highlighting grids for her unit commanders before she toggled her radio again.

“Make me proud Bravo, Actual Out.”

One of the privates strapped in the troop bay, raised a fist to his Captain.

“Rangers lead the way ma’am.”

Fisher returned the gesture. Grinning rather viciously for the events about to come.

“Screw that!!! Bravo leads the way!!!!”

---

Éaighnon also began firing at the horde that approached them. He hoped that Roscher knew what he was doing, setting up those traps.

Roscher, meanwhile, had very little idea what he was doing. He laid lines, set up grenades on corners, and just did his best to avoid destroying load-bearing stuff. He was sweating, getting the job done fast.

Michaels breathed a short sigh of relief as he heard the news from Griggs while reloading his rifle. They just need to hold out a bit longer. "If the vamps start to overwhelm us then we retreat to the second floor and hold the stairs." Saying it to who else is on the first floor as he kept firing at his window. Slowly backing up as the bodies piled up at his window but they still kept coming.

The roars of the ferals intermingled with the din of battle. So the human participants didn’t hear the roaring of diesel engines until the glaring of UV floodlights snapped on with a resounding sound. The floodlights were strapped to the exterior of their vehicles, three Strykers and a pair of MRAPs trundled forward, turrets firing as their targets began to scatter under the fire and the searing gaze of the UV spotlights.

Trotting behind the vehicles was a loose wedge of Multicam clad Rangers. SIG rifles up and searching as they followed in the wake of their armored vehicles.

A fusillade of fire and UV lights erupted from the opposite side of the clearing. Trees breaking as the eight Strykers of Mako Actual and Mako 1 erupted; cannons spraying.

Griggs continued to pour rounds into the relentless horde of ferals, their twisted forms pushing forward despite the onslaught. His muscles burned with exhaustion, but he knew he couldn't relent, not until they were all safely extracted.

As the chaos of battle raged around him, Griggs caught sight of the arrival of backup, the glare of UV floodlights illuminating the scene. He grumbled under his breath, relieved that reinforcements had finally arrived.

"About damn time," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of gunfire and roars of the ferals.

Turning to Nakamura, he issued a terse command. "Move, Nakamura. We're getting out of here."

With urgency in his voice, Griggs began to bark orders to the rest of the team, his eyes scanning the chaotic battlefield as he directed them to haul ass and peel to the waiting transport.

"Fall back! Move, move, move!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Get to the extraction point, now!"

Despite the overwhelming firepower from the Rangers and the blinding UV lights holding back the ferals, the beasts continued their relentless advance. Griggs gritted his teeth, determination etched on his face as he continued to fire on the incoming horde, buying precious seconds for his team to retreat to safety.

With each step backward, the team fought tooth and nail, their resolve unyielding even in the face of overwhelming odds. The ground shook beneath their feet as the rumble of armored vehicles drew closer to the house.

Roscher, having finished wiring the place, yelled over the storm of fire.
“Ven should I collapse zis place?!” He shouted, retreating back with the rest of the team.

“Wired? What did you w-“ Graves question was cut off as a feral broke scrambled into a doorway. Flailing limbs hitting a wire.

Heat registered a brief moment before the explosion threw Graves backwards; the breacher landing in some unlucky member of TF666. His armor luckily taking the brunt but leaving him winded as he tried to scrambled to his feet. Borrowed ACR awkwardly dangling on its sling.

“Stupid German bastard!!!” Graves wheezed as he picked himself up. Who wired a house one was defending?

---

Outside the Rangers came to a halt. Their vehicles idling as the dismounts hurried into better firing positions. No need to brave the swarm when their weapons could literally clear the way.

At least for the moment. While devastating, their ammo was not endless. Bravo company would have to leave eventually; even if the thump of mortars and grenade launchers signaled the distraction element was drawing off a sizable number of the swarm.

“X-Ray this is Mako Actual. Get you people on damnit!!!” Captain Fisher was screaming into her headset; eyeing the optical feed as her gunner tore a trio of ferals literally apart.

The familiar heavy beat of her Ranger’s 6.8mm’s resounded even through her closed hatches. However, even those big rounds wouldn’t hold this ride back for long.

Soon it would come down to trying to rescue a random spook team or pulling or company out of lune central.

“Screw it!!!” She tossed her handset down while unstrapping her rifle. Sidestepping her way to the rear ramp which she toggled; stepping from the night vision friendly interior into the UV lit night.

She found the familiar broad form of Sgt. Wayers; and pulled his helmeted hour down to her level.

“Get two teams and follow me!!!” The sergeant didn’t question his captains sudden appearance on the battlefield. He simply pulled the Rangers she requested.

“Walkway!!!!” A rehearsed drill as the Rangers tossed ten or so UV flares in a ragged line leading to the house. Which between the Floodlights, heavy weapons and flares dissuaded the lunes to easier approaches. “To the house.”

The Rangers didn’t so much arrive as nearly run into X-Rays sudden retreat out of the house.

“Hey, I zought ve vere retreating from zis position anyvay, ja?” Roscher said, helping Graves up. “Zis position is becoming untenable.”

Éaighnon emerged from the fog of dust that was beginning to settle. “I gotta agree wit him here, not a good idea, Roscher.”

Sim stopped firing when he noticed the UV lights and the armored vehicles. “Looks like reinforcements have arrived,” he pointed out to the others at the second floor. Hearing Griggs barking order for the task force to fall back, he nodded.

“Let’s go, Horowitz,” he said to her as both lowered their guns and followed Griggs.

Chloë, followed in the wake of the others, pulling up the rear as she cautiously followed the others, ready to open fire on any enemies approaching from the rear. She'd inventory her ammunition later but she suspected she'd used far too much already. Hopefully their reinforcements would allow her to filch some in what she hopes would be a period of calm before they continued the mission...

Being on the ground level, Marshall decided to keep the front door occupied with gunfire as the rest of the Task Force began to filter out through the back door. He kept laying down fire, but eventually he sensed that most of the team were now gone from their positions upstairs. He looked to the nearest figure just in time for the floodlights the Rangers' Strykers has flooded whatever openings with blue light.

"Go! I got this!" He said as he ejected an empty magazine, having thrown it into a magazine dump pouch, unsure if it went in or not. He reached for the right side of his body armor, feeling for the larger 60 round magazines and putting it in his M4. He anticipated the possibility of being in a sticky situation, and now was the exact reason to use one of the two 60 round magazines.

"We're leaving! Anyone still in here get out, now!" Marshall flicked his fire selector to automatic and started laying down longer bursts of fire as he slowly fell back, making sure that no one else was left in the house.

Fisher noted that the spooks definitely had the look down. Fancy looking armor and uniforms, wide array of personalized weapons, and a general sense of disarray mixed into their general command structure.

At least compared to her Rangers.

“Move it spooks!!!” The Captain grabbed a spook, a lithe looking brunette, and shoved her towards the armored vehicles and the cordon of Rangers.

Gunfire from inside drew her gaze to a figure blazing away with an M4 while backing towards the door. Too slow though.

“Wayers!!!” Fisher shouted as she stepped into the house. The broad sergeant squeezing by her. The spook with the M4 barely registered the broad shouldered sergeant before he was bodily lifted and sent stumbling to the back door. Fisher’s rifle came up as she took the spook’s place while Wayers, having removed the spook, hefted his M250. Then the pair of Rangers fired.

Heavy 6.8mm rounds tore through the freshly surging lunes. Effectively stopping their charge, for the moment. in the confined space of the hall. as their dead and wounded fell back against the wave trying to bash their way in.

Secure for now. Fisher and Wayers began to turn when three more spooks hurriedly hustlers out of the living room. Fishing nearly keeling over an ACR wielding-

“Jess??” The familiar arctic eyes of her husband, were wide.

The creak of the stairs behind them however caused both to turn as the spindly form of a feral prepared to pounce from its perch. Neither of the Graves guns were in position to bring it down in time.

The feral was just about to land on the unsuspecting pair, its teeth bared in a menacing snarl, claws poised to strike. But before it could make its deadly leap, the creature was suddenly engulfed in a spray of rapid gunfire. Captain Griggs, his eyes narrowed in determination, had swiftly moved into position, his weapon unleashing a storm of bullets that tore through the vampire's twisted form.

As the feral fell to the ground in a heap, Griggs wasted no time, moving to the side of Graves and Fisher, his grip firm as he grabbed Graves by the arm.

"Come on, let's move!" he barked, urgency lacing his words as he propelled them forward.

The Rangers had been effective in both drawing in the feral horde and cutting it down with their relentless firepower. But even with their skill and determination, the reality remained that their ammunition wasn't endless.

Griggs continued to fire against the oncoming horde as he and the rest of the team peeled back one by one, retreating towards the waiting armored vehicle. Each member of the team moved with purpose, their movements synchronized as they fell back into the safety of the Striker.

Meanwhile, the house began to crumble under the strain of Roscher's explosive wires, the structure groaning and shuddering as it threatened to collapse at any moment.

Griggs, positioned at the ramp of the Stryker alongside other Rangers, shouted out commands, his voice cutting through the chaos of battle.

"Move, move, move!" he yelled, his tone commanding as he urged everyone to hurry. With each passing moment, the danger grew more imminent, and they needed to evacuate before it was too late.

Fisher practically threw herself out of the house as the explosion of a grenade resulted in deafening groan. A side of the dilapidated building falling away.

She was barely on the ground for a second before one of her Rangers hauled her to her feet.

“Rangers mount up!!!!!!” Fisher dumped the rest of her magazine into a stumbling feral. The roar of an ACR beside her had another lune wilt with half a head.

Graves had taken a position by her side. Applying rifle fire to her blind spot.

A habit from the first time they had fought side by side. Though this was a long ways from Chicago.

The fighting retreat of the Rangers and X-Ray was enough to discourage the charge…barely. Fisher was one of the last to load up in the Stryker. Sgt. Wayers practically hip checking her inside as the massive machine gunner slowly backed into the protection of the Stryker bay.

Michaels shouted to anyone still in the house. "If you do not leave now then you are dead." Quickly dumping a empty mag and replacing it with a fresh one. Michaels than left the house and trailed behind the group acting as a rear guard as he sprayed gunfire as he ran. "We can get out of this just keep moving." Shouting again and keep a eye out behind him for any stragglers.

He managed to reach the Stryker and took a seat near the front. Watching if they need a extra hand and simply waited to see if the team was safe.

The command Stryker’s ramp rose with a resounding clang. The gunfire of outside becoming muted except for the chatter of the roof mounted turret. Fisher turned in her commander’s seat.

“Captain Griggs!! Is this all of them?!!!”The spooks wouldn’t have fit in one APC; so they were spread among the vehicles along with her Rangers. All of whom were hurriedly mounting back up in preparation for a quick departure

As Griggs quickly loaded up a new magazine, he glanced up to meet Fisher's intense gaze. With a grim forwardness, he replied over the din of the roaring engines and the muffled sounds of gunfire.

"Everyone who's regrouped should be mounting up," he stated back to Fisher, his voice firm and clear. "If they're not here, then they're shit out of luck."

His words were blunt, reflecting the urgency of their situation. There was no time to wait for stragglers or hesitators. Every second counted, and they needed to evacuate before the feral horde overwhelmed them.

Éaighnon and Roscher had managed to escape with the rest of the team, with explosions still going off behind the German. They both hopped into the vehicles, Éaighnon patting Roscher on the back, congratulating him on some of his work, although Roscher doesn’t seem to be having much of that.

“Wir wären fast gestorben…” Roscher whispered, not really to anyone.

---

Markwell's relief was palpable as Josephine appeared before him, like a beacon of hope in the midst of uncertainty. He looked at her with gratitude shining in his eyes, almost as if she were an angel sent to rescue him from the chaos.

"Josephine," he breathed, his voice tinged with relief. "Thank the stars you're here."

He quickly composed himself, realizing they were still in a precarious situation. As they readied themselves to move, the distant sounds of gunfire echoed through the air, a sign that the rest of their team was not too far from them.

"We need to move, and fast," Markwell urged, his tone urgent. He knew they had to reach the others before it was too late.

With determination fueling their steps, the two agents trekked through the darkness of the desert, their senses alert for any signs of danger. Finally, they arrived at the vantage point overlooking the intense skirmish between the team and the horde of vampires.

From their position on the rocky hill, Markwell watched the chaotic scene unfold below. His brow furrowed with concern as he passed a pair of binoculars to Josephine, allowing her to get a closer look.

"It seems Griggs has led them into a deathtrap," Markwell observed grimly, his gaze fixed on the unfolding battle. He knew there was little they could do.

"I suppose it'll be just us then agent..."

Josephine nodded solemnly and handed back the binoculars. She rubbed her hands together for a moment, and then asked, “So, is there anything we can do to help ‘em?”

Markwell's surprise was evident as he regarded Josephine, almost as if he couldn't believe she would ask such a question in the midst of the chaos unfolding below. He regarded her with a cold, calculating gaze before responding in a plain, almost cold tone.

"There's nothing we can do for them," he stated bluntly, his voice devoid of emotion. "The team is as good as dead, and we have to focus on our mission."

With a swift motion, he retrieved his satellite phone from his pocket, flipping it open to reveal a GPS tracking their location. He studied the device for a moment before speaking again, his tone laced with a hint of ruthlessness.

"We're about 45 miles south from Albuquerque," Markwell informed her, his eyes glinting with a shady intent. "We'll slip out quietly and begin hiking towards the city. Our mission continues, regardless of the fate of the others."

There was something unsettling about the way Markwell spoke, as if he saw the chaos below as an opportunity rather than a tragedy.

Josephine was silent for a moment, clearly shocked at what Markwell had said. After a moment, though, she simply said, “Roger that. I’m sure they’ll figure it out. Let’s get rolling.”

Markwell observed Josephine's response with a momentary flicker of curiosity in his eyes, but he quickly brushed it aside with a dismissive nod. He adjusted his grip on his carbine and gestured for Josephine to follow as they began to make their way through the desert terrain.

Their NVGs provided crucial visibility in the darkness, guiding their path through the rugged landscape. The only sound accompanying their movements was the soft crunch of gravel beneath their boots, punctuated by the occasional gust of wind.

The agents' radios emitted nothing but static, further isolating them from the ongoing chaos behind them. Markwell glanced at Josephine briefly before remarking, "Good thing I brought the satellite phone. We'll call Command once we're out of this combat zone."

With a determined stride, they pressed on into the night, leaving the sounds of battle behind them as they moved closer to their destination.

---

As the convoy rumbled on, Griggs found himself seated in the cramped interior of the Stryker, surrounded by the low hum of engines and the occasional clatter of gear. He shifted slightly in his seat, adjusting his grip on his rifle as he glanced over at Fisher, who was stationed at the commander's seat.

"Thanks for arriving on time, Captain," Griggs said, his voice slightly strained from the tension of the recent engagement.

"We wouldn't have lasted much longer out there..."

Everyone in the team who had been in the house had managed to make it, each member spread around the APCs and now provided a moment to rest. A much needed one at that.

[Sivio]

Struggle

Collaboration between Arengin Union, Sivio, and Rynagria

---

Sebastian's intervention served as a beacon of reason, his words resonating with those present and offering a moment of clarity.

Andrade, still reeling from the sudden turn of events, nodded solemnly as Sebastian spoke.

"He's right," Andrade conceded, his voice carried a weary tone as he lowered his pistol.

"We can't afford to let our differences tear us apart, not now, not when we're so close to making a difference."

Payton, her gaze hardened, stepped forward in agreement. "Correct," she affirmed, her tone resolute. "We've fought too hard for too long to let this moment slip away because of petty disagreements. We stand together, or we fall alone."

Sebastian's words seemed to resonate with the others as well, their expressions softening as they considered his plea.

As the tension began to ease, Holten stepped forward, his expression grave yet determined. "We need to focus on the task at hand," he urged, his voice commanding attention. "The package needs to be opened, and we need to determine its contents before we can make any further decisions."

"Betcherson, proceed," Andrade acquiesced.

As Betcherson approached the package, his fingers deftly working to bypass the digital lock, the room was suddenly rocked by a series of explosions, closer and more powerful than before. Dust and debris filled the air as screams of agony pierced the chaos, several people were thrown back at the sudden impact.

Andrade struggled to regain his footing, his senses reeling from the blast.

Commander Payton, enraged, raised her FAL, her voice cutting through the chaos. "We're under attack," she declared, her eyes flashing with determination. "We need to defend this FOB, now!"

Holten, his expression grim, turned to Andrade and his team. "We need to get out of here," he urged, his voice urgent. "We'll cover your escape, but we need to move quickly."

Andrade glanced around at his team, their faces reflecting all kinds of mixed emotions, he himself was shaken and battered, "We came here for a mission," he reminded them, his voice out of breath as blood ran down his head.

"We..." He seemed unable to bring words out as his head kept ringing from the explosion, "We gotta..." He couldn't make a call now. It was now up to the team to decide what to do.

"Fuck." Muttered Dani, as she quickly recovered her footing. With the standoff broken by Sebastian's speech about unity and the attack happening on the stronghold, it seems all hostilities between the two fronts have been mended. Taking immediate note of Andrade's current condition, the markswoman tightly secured her 716 to her body and produced a first aid kit. "Holten, if you could kindly send a medic our way, it would be much appreciated."

Sitting the commander down, she did her best to treat the head wound he sustained. Without even looking up from her makeshift treatment, Danielle addressed Sebastian. "Seb, you're the XO on this op, right? Why don't you coordinate the evacuation with CLF?"

A growl came from Cygnus.

"Your cowardice never fails to show itself, woman! Clearly, we must take a stand against our oppressors!" With a clenched fist, the bloodlust in his eyes was evident. "While we still have a score to settle against these traitorous calves, we can do so once our hunters have been repelled. Much as I disdain working with the lesser warriors, it is a tragic ending for them to lose their home, just as we have lost ours."

Sighing at the muscular vampire's tirade, Dani laid the situation as she saw it. "Musclehead. This is going to exactly go down like it in Los Angeles, even if we decide to hole up in here. There's not enough time to set up a successful defense of the area. This mall will just be our tombs if we stay."

In the aftermath of the explosion, Sebastian was disoriented and struggled to adjust. With time, he quickly regained his composure, driven by the urgency of the situation. Prior to this attack, his concern was the missions at hand and unity of both fronts. All that changed with the sudden attack on the base, with a shift towards the safety of the team and effectiveness of their mission. With Andrade momentarily incapacitated, leadership defaulted to Sebastian, a responsibility he neither sought nor shirked. "How is he, Dani?" Sebastian asked, walking up to the pair. Glancing at them, he knew that Andrade was in capable hands for the time being. Then he shifted his attention towards coordinating an effective response to the immediate threat.

Addressing Cygnus's fervent call to stand and fight, Sebastian's response was measured yet firm, "Cygnus, I understand the need to fight. However, strength isn't just about holding ground at the cost of lives. It's about knowing when to fight and when to move, to live another day and fight on stronger terms. Dani is right: we'll fall like Los Angeles if we stand without a plan." Sebastian's decisiveness in the face of Cygnus's bloodlust and the palpable tension was a testament to his leadership and his commitment to the team's long-term objectives. "Our priority is to ensure the survival of our team and to continue the fight," he continued, his gaze sweeping across the faces of his team members, each battle-hardened and weary from the relentless conflict.

Turning to address the group, Sebastian articulated a plan of action that balanced both urgency and strategy. "Despite the need to fight or for a unified front, at this point in time, we need to evacuate this location and regroup." Turning towards Holten and Payton, he asked, "Where's the nearest base to here? From there, we can assess our situation, tend to our wounded, and plan our next move. This is not about retreating, but about trying to fight smarter." Sebastian already began moving as he waited for their response. He issued concise instructions for their departure, whilst ensuring that everyone was accounted for and their movements were coordinated to minimize exposure to enemy fire.

As they prepared to move out once again, Sebastian recalled two quotes from Sun Tzu: "A wise warrior avoids battle. He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight." It was a guiding principle for him ever since joining the Liberation Front.

Despite the chaos, Sebastian's actions and words served to provide a sense of clarity and direction amidst the uncertainly. While he resolved to see the two fronts unified, that conversation will have to wait. For now, their survival was paramount, and Sebastian was instrumental in steering them towards the objective. Looking back towards Holten and Payton, he stated, "You need to come with us. They will capture you and require information if you stay behind and cover our retreat."

As Andrade seemed to drift into a state of semi-consciousness, Payton's fiery defiance cut through the noise of battle. Her anger palpable, she rose from her cover, her grip tight on her FAL rifle and her resolve unyielding. "I've held this position for over a year," she declared, her voice steely with rage. "I'm not about to abandon my boys now, especially the wounded. You can all leave if you want, but I'll be damned if I let those Army bastards overrun us without a fight."

With those words, Payton stormed out of the room, her men rallying behind her with unwavering loyalty. The sounds of gunfire echoed from outside as they prepared to face the enemy head-on.

Meanwhile, Holten, his expression one of visibly dismay, turned to Sebastian and the WLF team. "She can go ahead and die for all I care," he remarked coldly, his tone devoid of sympathy. "But we have a way out of this hellhole waiting on the other side of the perimeter. Follow me if you want to live."

With that, Holten and his men began to make preparations, their movements swift and purposeful. The choice was clear: stand and fight alongside Payton, or follow Holten to safety.