Athena: Fall of Europe (IC)

[Vacif]

Vince Farkas
Antwerp Refugee Camp

"Allen-Montgomery!" bellowed Vince. He allowed a smile, he was part of the team on his first mission. His first mission.... How long ago that was. As to their predicament to about transport, he spoke up. "We could take bikes. That's what my men did, a lot less effort, and a lot faster than walking, and not nearly as loud as a vehicle. Much more maneuverable when we get into areas where people left behind their automobiles. Spotted some trouble zones where civilians simply left their vehicles clustered at intersections. But on that note,we could simply acquire some of those vehicles for our use. When panicking, people tend to leave the keys in the car, and if they are low on fuel, well there are many vehicles to siphon from."

Regarding the edginess of their current situation with the American's reasonable argument, "We should not congregate outside here for so long, best head inside before any of them see us. (I'm assuming we're outside). Upon hearing of the destruction of the Dam, Vince's shoulders sagged slightly. He'd made a good number of friends at Ooster, of which did not return to their home nation. From the description he was provided, chances were, they did not live. A visible frown would appear on his face if it were not for facial obstructions courtesy of his balaclava.

[Auropa]

Daniel Bedlam
Antwerp

“Damn you’re ugly” he muttered under his breath. It wasn’t but a few moments ago that Daniel had found himself on the wrong side of lady luck, after hiking god knows how long through miles of god knows what he had finally reached god knows where in Antwerp. Following instinct he skirted the closest buildings before scouting the streets only moving in when he was sure he was alone. His plan was to get some rest check his bearings and move on but one thing lead to the next and soon enough he found himself drifting off to sleep. Wasn’t even a good sleep too, ended up having another fitful round of nightmares. Some about himself being melted under a sea of plasma but a few more vivid ones around watching his friend’s lives being cut short to sound of screams and a fire. Worst of all though was that ‘fitful’ part of his not-so-relaxing rest was unfortunately audible and caught the attention of a particularly murderous something.

When Daniel finally regained consciousness it was thanks to a combination of distant soft scuttling sounds and the experience to recognize that death itself might as well be making that noise. His eyes shot open and every muscle in his body demanded he sprint to safety but experience taught him that doing so was death. He scanned the room, thankfully finding it empty, then slowly raised himself from the wall taking care to not make a sound. All the while the soft scratching drew closer. Definitely not human he thought to himself as he moved to his rifle he had idiotically left against the far wall. For a second the scratching stopped. Daniel stopped. Hell the whole world could’ve stopped for he knew. For a few seconds he just stood there crouched determined not to make a noise. That thing knew he was near but didn’t know exactly where. If it did, his nightmares would’ve quickly turned to reality. Then as quickly as it stopped the scratching resumed and continued to grow ever so slightly louder. Daniel was less than a meter away from his rifle but still out of reach, too fast was too noisy and too slow would be too late. By then scratching sounded like it was just in the next room, searching for another kill. And like hell Daniel would give it to him, his hand was mere millimetres from his weapon and with one final push he felt the cold embrace of steel in his grip then turned to the door rifle ready.

“Squeak, Squeak. Squeak!” And a small brown mouse shot passed the open door. With it a smile spread across Bedlams face as he began to lower his rifle and straighten up. ‘Well that’s disappointing’ he thought right as the unmistakable sound of a plasma gun being discharged thrice sounded and the world lit up. Three rounds passed across the door with at least one hitting its mark as it silenced a fleeing mouse. Rifle back up and body crouched low Daniel refused to surrender the initiative and moved. In an instant he had crossed the room and stood behind the door. In the same moment an unmistakable sound of clicking could be heard as the short alien raised its head to the new noise. Then it stopped. It raised its arm ready to fire. Took one step, and had a round pass straight through its head.

And now he was here. After waiting several more minutes and rechecking the area for any more surprises he came back to his little campsite, making sure to insult his prey on the way, then he set about reshaping his plan. This was too close and had the alien been a little more lucky and decided to start its check at the other side of the corridor would’ve almost certainly gunned him down. Like it or not, he couldn’t survive this deep behind enemy lines. Sighing, he decided that it was time to think about leaving. Antwerp had fallen, the line had broken and any chance of a full success was blown to pieces. Now, he needed supplies. Food, ammunition, equipment and anything your average Joe would need while fleeing a literal alien horde. Looking over his map he plotted a course and decided on a route before finally packing up.

He didn’t have much to begin with, learned the hard way about how staying light and mobile was essential to surviving, which brought a new problem to mind. Getting to the refugee camp and stocking up would be easy, the problem was carrying what he needed out of the city and back across the front. No point thinking on it now though. Once everything was set and done he stopped just before leaving remembering there were just a few essentials left to cover. Pulling out his knife he notched tally across four others bringing his score to a nice round number then made his way to the fallen creature. “Sorry buddy…” he began as he crouched down and worked his blade into the creature’s wrist. “…But I’m gonna need a hand in killing your friends” he said with a smirk as tore the hand free from its arm. Upon doing so the small weapon it had held burst into pieces. Scooping the bloodied fragments like a kid in a candy store he went on to pack them into a small under portion of his bag before setting off.

-------------------------- 4 hours later ---------------------------------------
‘Well shit'. Not a whole lot to say when it looks like your plan has been well and royally screwed. Getting to the Camp had been as uneventful as he hoped but now it looked like things had gotten out of hand. At first glance the camp looked deserted but Daniel knew otherwise. He could hear the distant noises and see things in places they shouldn’t be. What was really weird though, was that every now and then it was almost like he could hear a word or two. From this distance it may just be the wind distorting the sound or it could actually be other survivors. Then again, it could just be a trap. Honestly none of the options seemed ideal. The issue with aliens in the camp was clear enough but meeting more people presented a different problem. True, he’d love some company and someone to watch his back every now and then but it also made a bigger target and if they were civilian, well they’d be little help. Still no point sitting on his ass he thought as began to move towards the camp taking care to stay in the shadows as much he could.
Seconds turned to hours as adrenaline once again poured through his body. There was definitely something here. Tents were open and recently paced though and some were seemed to of been moved and just happened to be in a perfect vantage spot. None too surprisingly, he stayed clear of those. Finally he was at the camp's edge he crouched behind the nearest tent rifle at the ready. Then he heard movement and stopped. A patrol two maybe three individuals. Sounded human but he wasn’t going to risk giving himself away. He’d put a round in each them if they so much as looked at him the wrong way.
"Allen-Montgomery!"
“What the hell?” Was all Daniel could think of saying as the loud greeting pierced the silence. Doing so however wasn’t exactly the sneakiest thing to do and sure enough the next few seconds involved a troupe of NATO soldiers surrounding guns at the ready. With a giant grin “take me to your leader” was all Daniel could think of saying as he dropped his rifle and raised his arms.

After several angry comments they lead him to the centre of the camp. The soldiers relaxed a bit more after he willingly surrendered his weapons and gave his name but still decided he still needed to be questioned properly, after all he was the only civilian to make it to the camp. Hell of a group though, a bunch of NATOs maybe some Germans and a bunch of Russians. Wait, wrong uniform, Czech He thought. There was a bunch of them. Soon enough he was led to one group with his escorts close behind. But managed to have a few moments to listen to the conversation and guess roles and positions.

It seemed like people weren’t happy sitting in the refugee camp. They must have known that should a firefight break out, the tents wouldn’t help much. Though moving was an issue apparently. Something about bikes and civilian vehicles was being discussed but he couldn’t pick up much else. Not too far away it looked like the Germans were prepping to move out, or at least some of them. Interestingly though, one of them seemed out of place moving between everyone like a ghost. It wasn’t like infantry men (or girls in this case) to move around so subtlety. He made a quick mental note and tried to do the same on all the apparent leaders in the moments before they noticed him approaching.

First were the two standing close together, probably friends. One was a woman, European medic, NATO maybe? The other was a young Czech, seemed to be overflowing with confidence, and held himself in a certain way… Definitely ex-ATHENA. Okay, better than nothing Daniel thought. Next was a sniper who looked angry, a sergeant wearing ATHENA colours (and non-too shockingly looked ready to crush an army), the German who had shouted earlier and another sergeant looking a few years older than himself.
Only then did he realize almost half the soldiers were in their earlier 20s. Great, he thought to himself as he wondered if he should shoot himself now or just wait for the aliens to do it later. Still, time to make introductions he figured. As he walked up to the group dressed he put on his biggest cheesy-out-of-place smile “You guys may not believe this but I think I just saw an alien.”

[Sonitusia]

Antwerp, Belgium
Feldwebel Odetta Carrius

---

She wasn't due for another hour, so Odetta returned to the ever growing group of ATHENA operatives that had decided Antwerp was a great place for a reunion. And of course it was, there was practically almost nobody around to stop them. Except maybe a rogue ET, which may be among them for all Carrius could tell. From the looks of it, these people had a tighter relationship than she could understand. Maybe it was bad of her to not really partake in an active social life during her time in ATHENA, but there was no helping it for her.

Apparently the men and women were making introductions. "Feldwebel Odetta Carrius of Gebirgsaufklärungsbataillon 230," she said out of nowhere from behind the man who said that he had seen an alien. She put a hand on his shoulder and her old pistol pressed against his back, asking, "I haven't seen you before, but that could be due to my absence from ATHENA. Mind if you state your name before some Parabellum finds a nice spot to call home in your back?"

[Auropa]

snip"

You can learn a lot about a person from first introductions. You can see if they're kind, caring, considerate or a screw-you and then some type of person. Now a gun to the back tends to fall deep into the latter group. That said, nothing gets a person as talkative as the feeling of a cold barrel, interestingly though Daniel didn't even have to turn around to guess who it was. He never even heard her get close and felt the gun before anything else, definitely the out-of-place German soldier. Plus being ex-ATHENA explained the skill, that sort of training never does quite leave a person.
“Not one for conversation huh? Well, I’m Daniel Bedlam, I’d turn and shake your hand but that Paraba-whatcha-ma-call it is surprisingly snug against my spine. Sill ATHENA huh? I thought you guys got destroyed when the aliens took Ooster. Now, if you’re curious as to why am here I was under the assumption this was a refugee camp…”
Pausing for a moment he toned down his over the top smile and tried to begin again.
“Sorry, I’m rambling. Saw a lot of bodies on the way here and I didn’t expect to find any help. Almost shot some of your guys over there whilst trying to scavenge enough food to get out of the city.” Not a lie but still far from the whole truth he thought. Just as important to not antagonizing anyone as avoid giving reasons to doubt him, they all have the same enemy in the end after all.

[Sonitusia]

Antwerp, Belgium
Feldwebel Odetta Carrius

---

"I was ATHENA, would've gotten back in when der Außerirdische decided to drop on us, but I had to keep the front yard clear."

Carrius put away the Mauser and patted the man on the back, confirming he wasn't a threat. "Sorry for the hostile greeting, can't tell who is who these days, ja kameraden Bedlam?" she said, though she would continue to keep an eye on him. She'd seen enough death back home from surprise attacks, and having one occur right now wouldn't be something pretty.

[Bentus]

Emilie Girard
Antwerp

---

The news from Brussels was not something Emilie had wanted to hear. She seemed to be visible perturbed by word of the attack on NATO and UN Command in Europe – a look of real uncertainty flashing briefly across her face. For the past few days, she’d been operating with the anchor of her last received order: make all due haste towards the city for evacuation and regrouping. Suddenly, that had been cast into doubt, and Emilie didn’t quite know how to proceed.

The Russian’s almost imperceptible smile put her on edge, and Emilie bit back an instinctive retort as she suspected that the man enjoyed delivering the bad news. Trou du cul, she cursed inwardly – even if she remained silent out loud. The French woman took a moment to process the information, pushing back her immediate concerns. If Brussels had fallen, then the next logical line of defence fell within France – the prospect of her home coming under the weight of ET’s boots filled the woman with dread.

“Vince is right. We’re too exposed out here.” She responded eventually. “If Brussels is going to fall,” If it hasn’t already, “then we can’t stay here for long. ET will eventually catch on to us, and we don’t have nearly enough people to hold an entire city.” Emilie hated being this blind, for all they knew they could already be too far behind the front to even hope of reaching friendlies – or alternatively a counter-attack could have been launched and a rescue was mere hours away.

The soldier glanced around quickly, pointing towards the large structure of City Hall. “City Hall’s as good a place as any to try and figure out where to go from here. Odetta,” Emilie turned towards the German woman, sighing slightly at her typical bluntness with the newcomer. Alors, good to see she hasn't changed. “I think your Commanding Officer is the highest ranking one of us here.” Emilie neglected to mention that he was one of the two officers she’d seen so far.

The last thing on her to-do list was to start taking orders from a Russian spook.

[Sonitusia]

Odetta nodded, activating her radio headset. God help her if she could find where the Lieutenant had set up camp. "Herr Schumann, a little birdie told me you can find a recap on the situation at the city hall," she reported in German. She waited a few seconds for a reply, and then heard, "Jawohl Carrius, I'm headed there now."

Confident she had sent the man to the right place, she returned to the group before her. "What've you all seen regarding our extraterrestrial friends? Because the situation at home was quite fierce awhile back."

Meanwhile, the Lieutenant whistled as he entered Antwerp's city hall, escorted by a Corporal Lueder. The young man was interesting to talk to, and he trusted him with his life. He also trusted the G36 he was holding. It might have heat problems, but this wasn't Egypt. There were countless times when the Corporal could be counted on to save his arse, which quite frankly, was a plenty. Such is the life of the front lines.

"Guten tag," he called out as they entered, looking for someone, "Anyone need a suave German Leunant and his dashing subordinate?"

[Unified Free Lands]

Anka had listened silently to the others but now she spoke up, even if she was sure the others would disregard her opinion. "Why not move south by the E-19 towards Luxembourg? We can draw out the enemy and if we reach Luxembourg City, it is a more... What's the word? Defensible position. We keep drawing them out and then we strike, as in counter attack, after we've regrouped and restocked in Luxembourg."

"Of course, I'm just a private, and my idea might make us killed," Anka added with a sigh. There's a mistake in there somewhere and I can't figure out what it is... Again, she felt out of place being with these experienced soldiers. She had a moment of homesickness, but then she remembered that if Athena's work failed, she wouldn't have a home to go back to when this was all done.

[Lunas Legion]

Roger barely stiffed a laugh at Anya's suggestion. "Yeah, that'll get us all killed. Anything vaguely eastwards is a death sentence, as that's advancing towards the E.Ts with air superiority, superior tech and generally whatever you'd expect from E.Ts, if it hasn't been overrun already. We can't fight 'em. Not here. Not now. We don't have the numbers, the tech, the support..." He shrugged.

"Anything of any use, really. I say we head west. Not on the E-34, main roads are out of the question. They'll be clogged with civvies or other retreating units or both. We stick to back roads, and head for the Channel. Once we're there, we move along the coast until we find a ship or a recognisable defence line. If the first, we head to the UK. There'll be a command structure there, even if it's just British Army and no NATO assets. If the second, well, we just found NATO again, crisis over. Once we've got back with a proper organized force, then we can start showing 'em what for. Doing anything earlier's just suicide."

[Auropa]

Daniel Bedlam

'So we’re completely blind…' Daniel thought to himself.
After the little incident with Odetta everyone had seemed to forget about him. Considering he had several guns pointed at him before, he wasn’t exactly annoyed at this. After a few short words with his guards they returned his gear, everyone was in this together and being unarmed these days was practically a death sentence.
Still there wasn’t much he could do to help so he left the leaders, if you could call them that, to themselves in favour of the regulars. So far it had seemed that just about everyone had made it here by skin the skin of their teeth. Bikes, sewers, last stands and a whole lotta luck had brought people through the thickest of fighting only to get stuck in the centre of what was an occupied, or soon to be occupied, city and no matter how people tried to hide it one fact remained everyone was scarred. Considering that literal aliens have invaded and taken the country, gave a good a reason as any.
'Well, no real point standing here.' he thought as he began to lay on the floor.
'Might as well leave all the planning to the military.' And little by little he began to tune out the general commotion happening around him and started to fall asleep

"Of course, I'm just a private, and my idea might get us killed,"

'Okay! Not sleeping after hearing that!' With an irritated and slightly over exaggerated sigh he got to his feet and looked over one of the nearby maps. Whilst listening in and trying not to chuckle to the sergeant’s cold reply he began make sense of what was happening. Everyone was still trying to figure out their next move. Admittedly though, the sergeant’s wasn’t bad but he did have one major concern with it.
“May not be my place to judge.” He called over “But the Chanel’s likely a war zone, if I have a vote I say we aim for option two, maybe see if we can’t find some foliage, hopefully skirt around ET entirely. Honestly I’m sure if NATO exists anymore but I’d be happy for a chance to get out of this city.” He figured it wasn’t worth mentioning he was ambushed and nearly killed the moment he entered the city. Everyone had enough reasons to want to leave already.

[Anowa]

“May not be my place to judge.” He called over “But the Chanel’s likely a war zone, if I have a vote I say we aim for option two, maybe see if we can’t find some foliage, hopefully skirt around ET entirely. Honestly I’m sure if NATO exists anymore but I’d be happy for a chance to get out of this city.”

I shrugged, "Groupie's got a point, crossing the channel will paint a massive target on our backs." I sighed, thinking of a game plan, "Brussels is getting attacked, that means it's no longer a safe haven, best bet is to head west along the E17 to Ghent then Lille, regroup with the French. At this point Belgium is already gone." I sighed again, "I'm gonna look around for supplies, any of you are welcome to join me, if not, scream if something happens."

With that I started off around the camp, seeing if I could find guns, ammo, medical supplies, MREs, water, fuel, transport, anything really. Despite my joy to be joined up with some old friends, I knew we wouldn't be able to fully reconnect. After they left a lot of things about ATHENA got declassified for it's ground team. New species reports, ship classes, tech, all recovered from the base in South America, and I couldn't tell them.

[Tiltjuice]

Just British Army?

Lindsay gave no voice to the response she intended, nor to the irritation behind it. The American marine probably didn't realize the import of his words, just as he'd disregarded the two rifles trained on him. He had the look, too, of a seasoned veteran, but that made things all the worse. How did someone with his apparent experience ignore that? Either he was shellshocked, suicidal, or perhaps both. That made her next step clear, at least; she, like Emilie, distrusted the Russian officer.

"Sergeant, I respectfully recommend we link up with Feldwebel Carrius' CO at the city hall and follow up on everyone's ideas, as we are not pressed by the enemy for now."

The situation was bizarre, even for a world under extraterrestrial invasion. Finding herself advising an NCO who might be expected to advise the German lieutenant made her head spin. At this point, she just wanted to do her job.

"What've you all seen regarding our extraterrestrial friends? Because the situation at home was quite fierce awhile back."

"Very little. I was pulled straight out of Belfast to come here. Seeing nothing for now is good and bad, in a way. Herrmann, I don't feel that would be a good idea unless our goal is to help guide refugees to safety, and prevent any alien terror attacks on them. Two others from my patrol headed that way already, and they're no doubt struggling to get through the crowd. If we intend to link up with the French, the best way would be to head directly to Paris via Brussels. It is more dangerous, but we're a small group and we stand a better chance of making it through, especially with proper recce, which shouldn't be a problem. If we want to get to someplace and regroup, heading northwest and finding transport to England is better, in my opinion."

The Canadian had walked off, however, and she exhaled. Is everyone in this group so restless?

[Lunas Legion]

"If only to get out of this damn weather." Roger shrugged. "Also, mind putting the rifles down people, or pointing them somewhere that isn't at me? Don't mind if you keep 'em out, but the whole thing's a bit annoying really."

Well, at least his dislike of ATHENA now had a proper basis. Bunch of show-boating glory-hunters indeed. Wanting to head to Paris via Brussels? Did none of them have any understanding of what the hell they were fighting? There again, they wouldn't know. None of them had fought a proper frontal war. Hell, they hadn't even fought a guerilla war. They'd fought sporadic battles against undirected probes. That wasn't a war, as much as the media hyped it up to be one.

Wait until they get a proper welcome. Roger smiled slightly as he turned, still ignoring the rifles and keeping the M249 readied, and walked twitchy over towards the Town Hall. Oh, they'd get a proper welcome in time. '03 all over again, and they were the Iraqis.

[Senkaku]

Antwerp


Arkady snorted very faintly at Lindsay's suggestion of Paris via Brussels, and ignored Emilie's pointed reference to Odetta's superior's rank. Westerners take orders from Westerners. Such is the way of things. Perhaps the fellow will be competent, or at the very least malleable.
He spoke again, in the same soft, cool tone.
"Having just been in Brussels, I can tell you going anywhere 'via' it is not going to end remotely well. Before the command center started being bombed we were dealing with aliens setting up forward landing zones in the city's outskirts and enemy artillery positions. And the likelihood of Paris still being in French hands by the time we could get there, through enemy lines, is probably low- French high command got caught with their pants down just as much as anyone else with the first attack on the Fulda Gap. I would concur with the suggestion of finding passage to England." He paused for moment, thinking of how to frame what he was going to say. I can hardly say that ET didn't seem to want to whack a freighter full of GRU operatives, but... "I know many evacuation boats have departed relatively unmolested, at least from what I was told at UN Command, so that may be the safest option and the one that offers all of us the best chance at survival." He shrugged. "But perhaps the French will hold the aliens after all, and Paris will be a better bet. Regardless, meeting Feldwebel Carrius' CO at the city hall seems like a prudent idea in the short term. We are slightly exposed here."

---

Moscow
Ramenki-43

---

//command: play audio list "most recent"
/opening -file- "Meeting 664: Minutes: Section 1"
/play

REDACTED (1):

So, we will begin this meeting with a quick report from Admiral REDACTED, regarding recent events in the Navy's purview in our operational theater.

REDACTED (2):

Thank you, REDACTED. Now, as I'm sure you're all aware by now, the submarine REDACTED has been REDACTED off the coast of REDACTED. We have now confirmed, through satellite imagery and reports from the freighter REDACTED, that the incident was caused by intentional hostile activity. Current analysis indicates that there may have been a micro-leak aboard the vessel's reactor, triggering enemy short-range Cherenkov radiation sensors. All boomers are henceforth being moved to a REDACTED-mile radius with orders to REDACTED their entire payloads at a list of enemy targets in REDACTED if they come under any sort of attack. With the approval of REDACTED, we have reached out to the REDACTED to inform them of this, as it would be a grave error to risk nuclear war with our fellow humans at such a time. However, the destruction of the REDACTED and the damage inflicted on the freighter by the blast and by previous damage taken while in REDACTED, has complicated the GRU's efforts. I will leave it to REDACTED to explain.

REDACTED (1):

Cherenkov radiation? Are all of our submarines properly shielded against that, to avoid detection?

REDACTED (2):

We believe the enemy has only short-range sensors of this type, but in light of developments made several years ago by the REDACTED, all of our high-end submarines have been updated. However, obviously those serving in the REDACTED Fleet, and the older ones like the REDACTED, were not prioritized to receive the technology, which may explain its failure. I assure you, however, our other vessels are now completely safe.

REDACTED (3):

If I could speak now? The GRU fortunately did not lose the entire REDACTED when the REDACTED was blown up, but several agents were killed simply due to the ship's proximity to such a huge explosion. The ship had also previously been forced to abandon REDACTED early, which stranded an asset, codename ATREUS, on the mainland. Because of ATREUS's placement in the REDACTED, his confirmed status as alive and healthy, and his previously-displayed skills, I would advocate for a modification or postponement of plans by the REDACTED to deploy REDACTED weapons against the enemy. This is partly out of a slight personal fondness for ATREUS, I will admit, but looking at things coldly, ATREUS could provide extraordinarily valuable intelligence to improve the destructive power of future REDACTED strikes. If the attack cannot be delayed somehow, I would recommend priotizing ATREUS's extraction.

REDACTED (2):

There simply aren't any assets at the moment capable of pulling him. I've spoken with General REDACTED about this as well and she agrees. ATREUS is on his own, but I doubt he would be affected by the REDACTED strikes we have planned.

REDACTED (3):

Well, the REDACTED attack plans have not yet even been shared with my agency, so it's hardly as if we could plan around it for you, with ATREUS or with any of the admittedly very few other operatives who are still stranded behind enemy lines. ATREUS is now only the only one among said operatives who isn't compromised for future missions or essentially neutralized, yet we do not have any information to work with to try and save him!

REDACTED (1):

Director, Director. Please. The REDACTED may actually have finally come up with something for-

/terminate_feed
[-file- "Meeting 664: Minutes: Section 1" is over]

---

In his pocket, Arkady's phone buzzed ever so faintly, though he did not take it out to look.

String: 66164. If initiated, proceed to local [113], enter the furnace area, and activate Special Device present behind "door". Timer: 1:30:00

-TANTALUS

[Anowa]

I sat down on a crate, before fishing out a medium sized PDA, on the back in masking tape was a name 'Cmdr. Leon Pier' within were the contents of his personal PDA, including autopsy reports, language translations, technology reports, and everything else related to ATHENA's operation. How it all fit onto this tiny thing I had no clue, but regardless, the commander was dead, and as far as I knew, I was the ranking ATHENA officer... despite only being a Sergeant. And it had been the third time I've turned the thing on.

I was prompted by a screen when I turned it on, on it was a single file reading "Dear poor bastard."

I tapped it and up came a line of text:

Dear, Poor Bastard
If your reading this than that means my biosigns have flatlined and I have ceased to be. Which is most likely a bad thing seeing as that would mean ATHENA is gone as well. However, on the off chance their still around, or that you are ATHENA, than within your hands you hold the encyclopedia extraterra. This device holds every scrap of info we've acquired from the alien threat. It is (in my opinion) humanity's last chance of survival. I, Leon Pier, within all my power as a Commanding Officer appointed by the UN to safeguard earth, hereby order you to get this device up the chain of command, at any cost. Your mission cannot be slowed by any event, the death of friends, family, and foes cannot slow you, time is of the essence. Good luck, and God speed, whoever you are.

Vigilo, Confido.
-Commander Leon Pier.

With that I sighed, turned the PDA off and stood, I'd go over the info within later, but now? off to get some supplies.

---

The sound of the bickering faded a bit as I wandered into the camp, I stopped at an occupied tent, filled with what was a one point a soldiers barracks earlier. I found very little other than a duffle bag and some toothpaste. The next tent was more fruitful, it had a few boxes of 5.56 Ball, and a couple road flares. Granted I would've liked 7.62 NATO JHP, but in times like this we deal with what we're given. The next tent was a surprise, an M4 was laying neatly on a cot, loaded with a few full mags, all were a bit coated in... something. It looked like lubricant, but smelled different, must be new SI stuff. It was at that point that something in my gut felt... odd. Just like the Mojave way back when we went after the downed pilot. I wasn't wrong them either. I cautiously left the tent, duffle now filled and on my back.

My final stop was a white tent with a big red cross on it. It was obviously my first stop for medical supplies, something I'm sure Emilie would be ecstatic over. I pushed aside the tent's flap, to be met with the stench of death and ammonia, the smell of decay. Several bodies lay on blood drenched stretchers, either on beds or the ground I counted fifteen bodies in total, a few were civilian while others wore obvious military uniforms. They wee in several states of death, most soldiers had a miriad of plasma burns dotting their form, as well as scorch marks from their ammo cooking off. A few civilians wee similarly wounded, but most were coated with the gaping wounds of either an abducted or a... Lictor.... Ammonia... FUCK. The bodies weren't decaying, they were fresh if a bit cold and pale. I crept further into the tent, hoping to find something that could help, and I did a decently sized red gym-bag, filled with a myriad of medical supplies. Also coated it what I now recognized as a Lictor's old secretions. Not hazardous, but very greasy.

I quickly left the tent and made my way back to the group, rifle at the ready, and in a state of slight nervousness. I tossed the bag of medical supplies at Emilie's feet, and walked straight past everyone and up to Odetta, "We need to leave, now. Which way are we going?"

[Pan Asian Amercian Coalition]

Cpl. Allen-Montegomery
Antwerp

It was good to see he wasn't the only ATHENA operative still up and running. He would've settled for some NATO or EU guys, or hell even police, but this was just dandy. Some of the old crew back from ATHENA was more than just another drain on the budget in the eyes of government. Marilee, Lindsay, Farkas, Emilie. They were all still here, and they were just as glad to see him as he was to see them. As he saw it though, they were in the middle of a small standoff. He approached calmly, hands hovering near his rifle until the Russian and the Marine decided that not angering the highly experienced operatives was the better course of action. He kept a wide berth between him and the opposing pair. If a fight broke out, he knew which side he wanted to be on.

"I see there's a bit of a shituation here. Mind filling me in?"

The shituation seemed to diffuse itself as he walked over, but the presence of the new element still put him further on edge.

"Quick FYI guys, " he addressed his fellow ex-ATHENA operatives as he neared handshake distance " everyone within 30 klicks of Brussels got zapped. Nothing human-aligned on the roads there. The last wave of retreating NATO guys are probably near the French border."

Edgar was not pleased about the news he brought, and his voice reflected this. Glancing over his shoulder, hands unconsciously gripping his battle rifle, he quickly looked over at the two odd men out.

"Whose these guys?"

He was not pleased about them being there, either. But that did not stop him from helping himself to some spare 7.62 ammo from a nearby crate and some convent SCAR mags.

"We need to leave, now. Which way are we going?"

Turning his head quickly to see the new arrival, a familiar face from ATHENA, approach hurridly. Something had spooked him, and in an abandoned city where every shadow could be an enemy, that was never a good thing.

"What's the rush, besides the obvious?" he asked, but the nervousness seemed to get Edgar a bit worried.

[Shyluz]

Artem watched the flurry of activity as he meekly ate his rations, glancing at the other folks from his 'toon and his older comrades. Apparently, Allen-Montgomery had survived. Always a plus. "I say we bypass Brussels entirely, skirt around the border, and head to the Maginot Line. From there, we could take the underground rail system to inner France, where there's still NATO. Hell, there's probably some line remnants there too." Artem said, clutching his headset as he spoke. "It's good to see that you're still kicking, Carrius, Monty." He finished, grasping the headset with a determined force. "Either way, we need to move."

---

Number two was having a hell of a day. Firstly, her boss had apparently run into some old crush, as well as a load of old comrades. The first thing she ate in the last few days was a NATO ration, which tasted about as good as it sounded. And then, she proceeded to watch the 'Old Blood' duke it out over destinations. Fun times, ahoy! Her ass. Now, of course, seeing someone on a tablet at times like these meant one of a few things-- intel, which could be of use, Candy Crush, which also could be of use, or loved ones, which could be of depressings. Shrugging, The rogueish woman walked over to the ATHENA trooper, peeking at the PDA which displayed a wall of text in English. "I can speak English," She said, a thin smile playing her lips, "But I can't read it. Gist, please?"

[Anowa]

The rogueish woman walked over to the ATHENA trooper, peeking at the PDA which displayed a wall of text in English. "I can speak English," She said, a thin smile playing her lips, "But I can't read it. Gist, please?"

"What's the rush, besides the obvious?" he asked, but the nervousness seemed to get Edgar a bit worried.

I turned my head to the younger woman, "The gist of it is 'Classified', so I hope you didn't get anything from it." I turned my head over to Monty and spoke a single word:

"Lictors."

It was word that anyone who was with ATHENA during the first invasion would recognize, the boogiemen who raised a godawful stink and sent more than a few home to a closed casket, without being seen. It was something I could never really fight on an even scale, and that both angered and scared me.

[Bentus]

Emilie Girard
Antwerp

---

Emilie clenched her hands silently as Arkady casually predicted that Paris’ fate, resisting the urge to tell the Russian precisely what she thought about his plan to cross the channel. Even if the capital had fell, she was certain that there would be some kind of resistance, some way in which her countrymen were continuing to defend their homes. And yet this connard was proposing that she abandoned them, fled rather than making ET pay with blood for every inch of France that they took from her.

Herrman’s sudden appearance, and the bag of medical supplies, drew Emilie’s attention and a smile to her face. However, the latter quickly disappeared when she saw the Athena operative’s spooked expression. She didn’t know the man to be easily frightened.

“Lictors.”

Merde. Emilie’s brow furrowed as she tightened her grip on the P90. She scanned the tents, now seeing every shadow as a potential source of the most hideous death she could imagine. Memories of her time in Athena, fighting against the horrifying creatures and seeing the damage that they could do, came flooding back unwanted.

“City Hall. Now.” She stated simply, briskly making her way to the large structure and fully expecting everyone else to be right on her heels. If Edgar was right, then they really needed to find some shelter and figure out how to get out of Antwerp.

---

Sweeping old forms, documents, and other worthless desk items, Emilie immediately moved to clear a large table in the centre of the room. It was a fairly open space, probably a conference room previously occupied by some mid-level local politicians and a few chairs lay neatly around it – although Emilie had no intention of sitting down. The presence of Lictors had put her on edge, and she wanted nothing more than to put as much distance between her and those aliens as she possibly could. Reaching into a pocket, she pulled out a folded map of the surrounding region – eastern France and Belgium dominating the parchment – and spread it out before them.

“Monsieur Schumann, we have to leave this city as soon as possible.” Emilie quickly explained to the German Lietenant, having saluted briefly and haphazardly as soon as she’d entered. “We have reason to believe that the aliens have deployed what Athena calls ‘Lictors’ to the field. I don’t know if you came across them on the German front, but they are bad news all around. If all of Antwerp is infested, then securing the city is impossible.” Emilie glanced down at the map, wondering how much of the land it displayed was still in human hands. “The only question is where do we go, and how do we get there.”

[Cerrania]

Antwerp, Belgium
January 14th, 2025
Petty Officer Third Class Raymond Gayles

---

All Quiet On the Western Front.

That was, of course, implying that Antwerp was the ever-elusive Western Front. It also implied that there was a war to be had somewhere. From what Raymond had seen on the news feeds and from radio reports, it was more of a slaughter. ET had made a mockery of the world's military forces, driving them back in a vicious assault on the European lines of defense. The program which had originally driven back the Alien threat around the time Raymond was getting his SEAL status in 2020, ATHENA, was devastated as well. The aliens had launched one of the largest attacks in recorded history.

Yet you really couldn't tell by looking at Antwerp.

The city was a ghost town. Deathly quiet, empty, and eerily still, the city made Raymond nervous. Turning to his sniper, Jessie, he saw much of the same worry. Jessie was always a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, a fitting opposite to Raymond's hard shell. As their boots thumped against the pavement, Raymond heard Jessie sigh.

"This giving you the same creepy-as-fuck feeling?" Jessie asked, hoisting his SSR higher onto his shoulder and then scanning the buildings above. Raymond gave a grunt of agreement, also raising his SCAR-L to low-ready, should any trouble come. Perhaps it was just his jumpy nerves after being separated from his unit a few klicks out, but Raymond expected trouble. Something he had learned from his brief time fighting the "moon-men" is that they always had a trick or four up their sleeve, always. So as Raymond swept his aim into an open coffee shop and searched the immediate vicinity for threats, he searched for more than just silly little grey men. Satisfied with the emptiness of the shop, Raymond let his rifle fall to his side and slid a few chairs away from the table. Procuring a city map of Antwerp he had picked up from a welcome center on the fringes of the city proper, he laid it out on the table and observed it intently.

"C'mere," Raymond grunted at Jessie, who was searching behind the counter for any rations. When the sniper did come, he dropped a granola bar on the map. Raymond ripped it open without a word and took a monstrous bite, before nodding in thanks and pointing at the map, "'Bout a klick from the NATO camp. Best chances for survivors there. Back alleys or main roads? Status of back alleys ambiguous." Raymond continued. The disjointed way he threw together sentences often unnerved people, but Jessie was unfazed by it, having spent the last six months dealing with it.

"Main roads would probably be better. Opens up sight lines for ol' Bessie." Jessie said, beaming and tapping the rifle by his side. Raymond just shook his head. Jessie, who fought with Bessie. Raymond had always known there was a reason Jessie got the nickname "Twinkle-Toes" in BUD/S. Yet, a decision had been made, so Raymond shrugged and folded up the map, tucking it back into his packet and gripping his SCAR before moving on. He set off at a slow jog down the road before finding his direction and making a sharp turn towards what he was sure was the NATO camp. The streets of Antwerp were fairly straight, with some winding off into narrow passages with blind curves that made Raymond nervous every time he stepped around the corner.

It turned out, that after one too many of those turns, he was bound to find trouble. After approximately half a click, Raymond turned onto what was to be the final street before the NATO camp when he spotted a small patrol of ET moseying their way down the block.

Fuck. He said to himself, stopping dead in his track and slamming against a wall out of their view. Turning to Jessie, who was next to him, he gave the hand signal for seven ETs. From the looks of it, there was one Aggie, two Blues, and four Greys. Standard patrol for ET. Peaking his head around the corner, Raymond got a better look at the adversaries. They were still a hundred metres out, and had their back turned at the moment. Scanning for any advantageous firing positions, Raymond found one in the form of a jutting terrace with thick stone walls on the second floor of a nearby book store.

"Book store terrace. Twelve meters, go." Raymond hissed, turning the corner sharply and hunching low before dead-sprinting to the entrance to the shop. Sliding inside, he wheeled around the stairs, Jessie in tow, to the terrace and crouched to a stop behind the stone wall. Peaking his head over the wall, Raymond watched the patrol as they slowed to a crawling pace and eventually stopped moving. Out of his peripherals, he could see Jessie had mounted his rifle on the wall and was ready to go. Raymond flicked the safety off of his own, and made sure he had ample ammunition. Both of their weapons had suppressors, not that it would matter much once the ETs had their position.

"I got 1 and 3. Suppress 2 and 4, leave 5, 6, and 7." Came Jessie's whisper, before the command,

"Engage."

[Senkaku]

Moscow
Ramenki-43

---

"All rise for the President of the Russian Federation, Anatoly Seliyev!"
The scraping of chairs mingled with the rustle of cloth and the clink of medals and awards as the assembled brass of the General Staff rose to their feet. In this deeply-buried concrete room, illuminated by the eerie blue glow of dozens of screens and the harsh white light of LED panels in the roof, were nearly all of Russia's highest-ranking officers from every branch of the military and intelligence services.
"Be seated," the President said curtly, taking a seat. Once again, crisply pressed uniforms crinkled as the men and women around the huge long table sat back down.
"Can I have an update?", Seliyev said impatiently, looking at General Tretyakov, the commander of the Strategic Rocket Forces.
"All land-based missiles that have been earmarked for Operation Blizzard are fully accounted for, in position, ready to fire, and are not under any sort of threat from the enemy." Tretyakov inclined his head to Director Sayansky, the head of the GRU.
"We've used an old back door from before 1991 for the ATREUS Contingency, which we believe should fulfill both Blizzard and ATREUS's operational requirements. All other weapons are in place, armed, and ready to go."
Admiral Balakin pointed to the huge screen that took up the far wall. "As you can see, the Knyaz Oleg is the only boat not already in position. Her missiles are armed and ready, and we should be in firing position within five minutes. Commander Akulov will send up his signal drone when he is ready and relay the order to commence firing."
"Very well," the President said coolly. "Do we know how the Americans are doing?"
Director Sayansky shrugged. "They know when we are firing. I got them to promise another missile, which amounts to another dozen warheads, but they insisted all the strikes had to be in Denmark. 'Something something international law something something' was what they gave me when I pushed more."
Anatoly snorted. "Their president doesn't want to hurt his poll numbers too much if it doesn't work as hoped. Oh well. It's something."
Balakin suddenly looked up from his tablet. "Mr. President, Commander Akulov is broadcasting a ready signal. Shall I give the order to open fire?"

The room held its breath for a moment, and the President nodded.
"Commence Operation Blizzard."

---

The Motherland had sat idly by twice as invaders from the west had stormed across her wide and fertile plains and brought death and ruin. She had had many opportunities to prevent such devastation as was visited on her, but instead had only reacted once the enemy was within the gates. For that slowness, it had become necessity to sacrifice at the altar of victory the lives of tens of millions of Russians, young and old, rich and poor, from every far-flung reach of the vast country.

After the second time, one phrase was written on monuments the world over: Never again.

---

In a cold, dark, and distant sea, there was suddenly a light. This light was quickly joined by more, towering over the murky, hungry waves on pillars of smoke as they broke free of the great dark underwater leviathan that had held them close and arched through the surface of the sea and towards the dim and distant stars.
The Russian ballistic missile submarine Knyaz Oleg had just launched 20 Bulava missiles, each carrying six MIRVs with 150 kilotons of explosive power aboard. Elsewhere, off the coast of Iceland and in the frigid depths of the Arctic Sea and the stormy North Atlantic, three other submarines were firing their own payloads- a total of 80 Bulava SLBMs, with 480 MIRVs between them.
Moments later, four RS-24 Yars ICBMs, each carrying eight MIRVs with 250 kiloton warheads, were fired from mobile positions along Russia's extreme western border with Belarus. An American submarine off the British coast also lobbed three Trident missiles, with a total of 24 hundred-kiloton MIRVs between them, into the fray.

ET hadn't seen this before, that was for certain- and, whatever the reason, the Russian and American rockets flew on their course unmolested by the enemy.

As these missiles roared skyward, split open their nosecones, and began their fiery descent, the few surviving GRU operatives in alien-occupied Europe were also busy. Some of these "operatives" were simply stealthy, simple robots, quietly air-inserted by special GRU and SVR teams many hours before, but they sufficed.
Years before, during the Cold War and even afterwards, Russian operatives had cached certain devices across Europe and indeed the world. Many of them had gone missing, become inoperative, or simply been phased out of service, but not all. The Motherland also had plenty of these Special Devices waiting, waiting patiently for that dimly-seen day of fire that waited at some vague point in the mist of eternity.
To put it bluntly, 24 10-kiloton nuclear weapons, about the size of a suitcase, had been either smuggled into or already left in alien territory, mainly in Western Europe. As the Russian missiles descended, alongside America's small contribution, these weapons were detonated, remotely or manually, at key positions by the GRU. Within fractions of a second after the various suitcase nukes exploded, the MIRVs began to fall, hitting previously-identified alien supply depots, bases, fortifications, vehicle storage areas, landing strips, and all manner of logistical infrastructure and military formation. Europe was, from space, suddenly lit by hundreds of tiny double-flashes as vast fireballs raged into existence over the Continent's skies.
Most of Russia's nuclear fury had been reserved for the largest alien formations, in Denmark, Germany, and the Low Countries. However, a not-insignificant portion of the hundreds of warheads that fell were directed at the alien spearhead that was marching through Eastern Germany and Western Poland, including a pair of cobalt-laced bombs dropped in Poland for area denial purposes.

Never again would an enemy bent on conquest and genocide walk right up to the Russian frontier. From now on, the aliens would pay for every inch they took in the East with gallons of their strangely-colored blood.

---

Arkady, meanwhile, as they were walking towards the City Hall, had just taken out his phone (or rather, the dead man's). He'd scarcely finished reading Maria's first text, hiding his incredulity from the others, when a second came in.
We have a nuke in Antwerp, and they want me to set it off??

---

Contingency Blue-9, regarding Blizzard operational plans redirected against more relevant foe. Initiate String 66164.

-TANTALUS

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

---

When they finally got to the building, though, and headed inside, it was easy enough to slip away from the group into the deep shadows between the columns, where usually lamps and lightbulbs would have been shining had power not been cut to this part of the city. Walking silently, almost catlike up on the balls of his feet, Arkady hurried into an abandoned sideroom where some minor bureaucrat had clearly left in a hurry. He eased the well-oiled door shut behind him and pulled out the phone, typing a quick message.

Confirm location of Special Device? Sitrep: currently with group of fleeing soldiers including ex-ATHENA operators. Clear to engage device.

Maria's- or whoever was on the line in Moscow- reply was almost instantaneous.

Special Device is located String 121, blue alpha Rubicon. Right left right left straight right. Estimate yield of 10k. Authorization: voice command.

Arkady rolled his eyes skyward in frustration as his mind flicked back through codewords and strings, and then eased the door back open, cautiously pacing down a nearby hallway and then up several flights of stairs.
The room he ended up in was another mid-level bureaucrat's office, though far more organized, with the remaining papers neatly stacked and everything properly arranged. It also, charmingly, had a corpse in it- presumably the man who had gone to all this trouble to organize his papers, sitting in his chair with a pistol in his lap and streaks of dried blood running from a hole beneath his jaw. Too melodramatic to evacuate like a normal person, I guess?
Arkady opened the closet on the left side of the room, quietly moving the cardboard boxes off the floorboards. He fumbled around, feeling the floor for a moment- and suddenly, a latch clicked.
A panel opened in the floor, and Arkady sat back, shaking his head in amazement, as a black suitcase revealed itself beneath. He dragged it up to the dead man's desk, though it was difficult to be quiet since the thing was so damn heavy. The suitcase's side flipped open, clacking against the desk (though thankfully muffled by papers).

It revealed a silver box, with a simple screen and some numbered keys. The screen was already on, glowing a uniform white, with a red line running across the center.
Arkady tapped a finger on the desk hesitantly. The red line shivered.
"Arkady Pyotrivich Semyanin," he said clearly, and the red line suddenly tangled itself up with the oscillations of his voice.
"Approved," the speaker said tinnily. "Press One."
Arkady pressed one.
"Countdown initiated, 90 minutes. Mark." Arkady closed the suitcase and swallowed, hurrying quietly through the City Hall's dark, eerie corridors back to where he'd slipped away from the group. He could hear voices coming from a nearby room- no doubt they were discussing where to go next, what to do. He took a breath before entering, composing himself. Just play them properly. No reason for such skilled fighters to be lost to the world.

The Russian lieutenant walked in quickly, his face seeming to reveal alarm and fear beneath a calm mask. His voice, unlike it had been earlier, was now sharp, even commanding.
"I apologize for my interruption, but we need to leave." He swallowed, allowing the faintest tremor of concern to enter his tone. "Immediately. I would suggest Ghent, Lille, or really anywhere but Antwerp."

Please, make my life simpler and your life longer and just go with it.

[Camicon]

*snip*
"Lictors."
*snip*

Marilee Thomas
Belgium, Antwerp

"Fuckin' kidding me? Spooks in Antwerp?" Marilee shuddered. "This day just went from 'shitty' ta 'shitty and terrifying'. If there're Spooks lurkin' 'round, then we need ta get the hell outta Dodge. Don't really wanna go ta city hall after that tidbit, but if it means groupin' up with your boys," she jerked her thumb towards Odetta, "Then it's a necessary risk. Everyone, heads and guns up, look for shimmers. Y'know how highway asphalt looks on a hot day? Heat-wavy air 'n shit? Just like that. Shoot first, double-check later; Spooks'll rip ya' apart if ya' give 'em a chance."

Marilee checked her BMCR, her extra mags, and started walking to the nearby structure. She raised the rifle, not sighting on anything in particular but only a single twitch away from being so. She took a slight lead on Emilie, being the first to enter the civic building; first in to clear potentially hostile environments was what she was trained and equipped for, and the group couldn't risk their medic being torn in half by a fucking Spook.

[Anowa]

Herrman
I stood in the foyer of the town hall, reading from the PDA again, this the I was looking at the largest blob of black ink I'd ever seen, all that was descernible was the name Banshee and the commander's notes:

All that we've been able to discern from the single corpse we found at the South American base after we bombed the hell out of it, is that the 'Banshee' was capable of great psionic feats, and that they shared DNA with the Simians, except for the distinct different chromazones. meaning they're the same species. Could they be the head of the Alien's hierarchy? Regardless the info we could scrounge up was minimal and referred to ██████████ ███ '███ ███ ██ ██████'.

That last line scared me, It seemed like it hid something important, something we needed to know.

There was a drip, at the far side of the room. I slipped the PDA back into it's respective pouch and raised my SCAR... only to see a distorted wall of flickering light paths...

My voice nearly cracked as I yelled, "COMPANY!" I opened fire, the jacketed hollow-point rounds took down one of the six in short order, but the entire magazine was expelled, forcing me to run. And run I did, two or three I could take if I were careful, but five more to go? No way José. With a gasping breath I swung a pair of doors shut, saving me time to reload, I had barely pulled the charging handle back before the door started turning into splinters, and I fired still. The gathering room was less than twelve meters away, they had to have heard the commotion. My second mag hit empty, and I had yet to kill another to my knowledge.

[Tiltjuice]

*snip*
"Lictors."
*snip*

"Fuckin' kidding me? Spooks in Antwerp?" Marilee shuddered. "This day just went from 'shitty' ta 'shitty and terrifying'. If there're Spooks lurkin' 'round, then we need ta get the hell outta Dodge. Don't really wanna go ta city hall after that tidbit, but if it means grouping up with your boys," she jerked her thumb towards Odetta, "Then it's a necessary risk. Everyone, heads and guns up, look for shimmers. Y'know how highway asphalt looks on a hot day? Heat-wavy air 'n shit? Just like that. Shoot first, double-check later; Spooks'll rip ya' apart if ya' give 'em a chance."

Marilee checked her BMCR, her extra mags, and started walking to the nearby structure. She raised the rifle, not sighting on anything in particular but only a single twitch away from being so. She took a slight lead on Emilie, being the first to enter the civic building; first in to clear potentially hostile environments was what she was trained and equipped for, and the group couldn't risk their medic being torn in half by a fucking Spook.

"Just perfect," Lindsay muttered, the corner of her mouth turning down. She'd stacked in line behind the two Canadians, Herrman in the lead. He'd stopped to read through whatever it was he found in the entryway, and it was possibly a stroke of luck the shimmers hadn't taken him by surprise. The Spook he'd downed collapsed to the floor with a wet splat and the familiar acrid smell, touched by an addition of gunpowder. The air roiled to both the left and right, some following Herrman and others apparently spreading out into a better position for a surprise rush. Arkady's entreaty was forgotten for the moment in the face of the ambush.

"Back to back!" she called out to the others, moving to Marilee's left and making sure to stay in front of the door, behind which Emilie and the German lieutenant were conversing. The rifle in her hands cracked out single shots, Mad Minute style, in an effort to keep the aliens' attention away from the Canadian infantryman.

[Auropa]

Daniel
There were just some things you just couldn’t make a joke about. Maybe if he didn’t know what was coming Daniel would’ve made a crack at soldiers being afraid of taking a ‘licking’ but knowledge can be a hell of a buzz kill and something about being torn limb from limb by a creature of nightmares just didn’t invoke much humour. So, for once in his life, he got up and did what he was told.

The trek wasn’t too long but by god it didn’t feel that way. Every minute dragged on and every passing corner felt like an eternity, Lictors tended to have that effect on people. It did give him some time to think at least. There was no real purpose or benefit to staying in Antwerp and being in a group provided far more protection and skills. The downside however, beyond being a bigger target, was that it seemed like everyone here was completely insane. Almost three people had gotten shot by their own teammates and the Russian was almost begging for a round in the back… Which ironically, was the greeting he got from another different squaddie.

The passing of another corner brought Daniel back from his thoughts, instinct kicked in and he calmly dropped to a knee and raised his rifle to survey the street. Slow silent breaths and a steady hand, that’s what he had been taught and that’s what had kept him alive this long. The next few seconds lasted eons and until he felt a pat on his shoulder from a passing NATO soldier he stayed low and ready.
“Clear.” The soldier called under his breath out as he raised his weapon and his friends moved forward. “Ex-military?” He asked as he slung his rifle over his shoulder
Raising an eyebrow at the sudden remark Daniel stayed silent for a moment as he contemplated his response.
“Yeah. Didn’t feel right sitting on my ass when the aliens came though. Decided to join whatever movements I could. You know how it is, someone has to save the day I’m the only one handsome enough.” Maybe it was just the atmosphere but his comment got a small chuckle out of the man.
“I’m Chuck” He began whilst outstretching his hand, taking it and nodding his first greeting Daniel began to make quick quiet introductions to the squad. Even surrounded by highly trained soldiers Daniel felt vulnerable in the streets, any shadow could house a Lictor and a painful death but panicking never helped anyone so he did his best to stay calm and ease tensions though through it all, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched.

Eventually the group made it to City Hall and after a thankfully uneventful journey, everyone set to their own devices. Many set to erecting defences whilst others stockpiled rations but once again a clear group of leadership became apparent as a few familiar faces made their way towards a nearby office. He couldn’t see much but he guessed they were discussing their retreat with the Schumann they had all come to meet with. Didn’t have to be anywhere near the room to hear the medic’s accent. What was really interesting was though, was who’ accent he couldn’t hear. So far Arkady had been forcing himself into every decision ensuring his opinion, or more likely the Russian opinion, was heard. Though halfway through the move to City Hall Daniel lost track of him and when he did show up he seemed distant.

In fact… As he now looked around he noticed that the Russian had once again vanished. This didn’t exactly fill him with glee. Once again he raised to feet and off the pillar he had been planning to rest against and began to look around pausing only to grab his rifle recalling the last time he was caught unarmed. He figured the man had some way of contacting his superiors. No doubt a spook wouldn’t have some secret radio, 'So where would he go for privacy' He wondered.
'Probably the roof. Nothing to block or interfere with a radio signal.' And with a quick turn he set off. Though none too shockingly he managed to get lost by the second floor and was prepared to give up when he heard something new.

"COMPANY!"

And it was close, very close. “Shit” he cursed as e took off at a sprint towards the noise. In the moments he ran, a long burst of fire rang out but it wasn't anywhere near as long as he hoped it would be.
'Damnit! Who the hell was walking around here alone!' he ironically thought as he moved. Turning one last corner, he found himself on a viewing platform above the foyer, below some crazed man was running down the hall whilst the door behind him slammed shut. A millisecond later it was naught but splinters and five monsters poured through. As Daniel raised his rifle the man let loose another clip and whilst it didn’t kill anything it definitely hurt one them bad. As it hunched over Daniel put three rounds in its exposed necks cutting its blood curdling cry short. Then moving on to the creature closest to the man, Daniel unleashed a hail of fire and through as much luck as skill, managed to get at least one round between its plates forcing it to lose balance and fall. From there, Daniel breathed out then let off four more shots. Two bounced off the plating, one missed its mark and the last splattered whatever brain the thing had.
Before he could so much as consider aiming to another they were past him and out of the foyer. That left 3 Lictores in close quarters with a building full of tired soldiers. Not wasting time Daniel reloaded and charged back down the praying for a miracle.