Chapter 14: Counterattack




Darius must have expected Sanders' to let his jaw drop as he had already shifted to block nearly everyone's sight line to him. Darius made it look like he was grabbing another set of drinks and Sanders used the pause to get himself back under control. Attack the Society?! Had Darius lost his damn mind?!


"I'm more than positive I misheard you just now," Sanders said as Darius dropped two new drinks onto the table. Darius motioned for Sanders to try it, but his face was as deadset as it had ever been.


"You did not. We're attacking the Society tonight," Darius said before taking a quick swig. Sanders shook his head and stared down at the liquid in his new drink. What was Darius thinking? Yes the improved platform gave them a potent new weapon, but even Sanders could tell it wouldn't be enough to break this siege.


"Darius, this is-" Sanders started to say, but stopped as Darius motioned toward his drink. Sanders let out a sigh before taking a quick sip. It was strong, but not nearly as strong as the last stuff. He actually managed to get this down without wanting to barf.


"I am aware of the risks and what we can't achieve. However, tonight is the only night we can take the Society off-guard and the last night we have to save Rome," Darius said pausing to take another drink. Sanders fought to keep his face neutral as Darius continued.
"This snow has forced nearly everything in Rome to a halt and looks to have done the same on the Society side. However, the Society should have access to vehicles and equipment more than capable of dealing with this weather. Yet they have backed off... why?" Darius asked. Sanders' eyes narrowed as he considered the implications.


It was true, the Society did have weather-resistant vehicles and gear. He'd seen Isabella and the others use them back when he was part of the Society. And, now that he thought about, a few inches of snow wasn't really THAT big a deal to normal-sized people. So why had they backed off? Sanders couldn't see a good reason so he glanced back to Darius. Darius leaned in a bit closer before answering.


"Because their preparing for the final push. Up till now, there was always a chance we might get desperate enough to try another assault on them. Unlikely, but possible. And if we did, they needed enough troops to crush the attack AND keep the rivers under observation. After all, this entire siege is about keeping the truth of the Shrink Disaster from spreading. If we had managed to slip out via a distracting suicide attack, it would still be a lose in the Society's eyes,” Darius said before pausing to take a sip.


"But with this storm, the chance of us making any major moves are, practically, zero. Our troops are exhausted, the people in no mood for heroics that will leave them in danger, and the snow itself would slow any advance to a pathetic crawl. Put simply, we'd be insane to try and attack them. Which is exactly why we HAVE to do just that," Darius finished with a steely gaze. Sanders took a big gulp from his drink as he processed all this. Darius' logic all seemed sound to him. As horrid as it would be if Rome and its people were massacred, if the computer and Manchent's message survived, then there would still be hope of someone else managing what they couldn't. That threat to the Society's power would still exist and the maniacs would NEVER feel safe as long as it did. There was only one thing that bothered him.


"You said that this is our last chance to save Rome. What do you mean?" Sanders asked. Darius' gaze shifted ever so slightly away and a very subtle sigh escaped his lips.


"The Society have not been sitting on their hands as they keep us bottled up in here. Undoubtedly, they have been moving massive amounts of supplies, equipment, and other things up to their camp. And considering the reports of how little giantess activity we have seen compared to usually, it is also likely that most were allowed to return to their base during this snow storm. A chance for them to get out of the cold, to rest... and prepare," Darius said locking eyes with Sanders again. Prepare for wh-... Oh God… A final push….


"They're going to overrun us... just grind us down until they can bury us with sheer numbers and exhaustion," Sanders said and Darius nodded.


"Yes... unless we force them to change their plans. That's why we HAVE to attack them now. The supplies they need to sustain such an assault are sitting in their camp, a camp that is at its most vulnerable. We HAVE to destroy their supplies and force them onto the backfoot. Otherwise the pressure they have been putting on the line will seem calm," Darius said with a iron rod in his voice.


Sanders nodded in understanding and was about to ask for details on the mission, but was stopped as Derek started to argue with someone. The man looked to be a high up Roman of some kind, probably wanting to look good by getting some one-on-one time with the “hero”... Darius narrowed his eyes at the man before turning back to Sanders.


"Go, I will handle this fool. No one here will be that suspicious of you slipping out, you made it rather obvious you were uncomfortable, but someone will start to wonder where you went, eventually. And then our traitor problem will rear its head. You and the attack force need to be hitting the base BEFORE that happens. Marketa will be leading Gerald's squad and be in charge of the platform. She, also, has all the information we could get that we thought might help. Good luck," Darius finished rather quickly before getting up from the table and heading toward the increasingly frustrated man.


Sanders waited a few heartbeats before dumping the last bit of his drink into a nearby trash can and slipping out the door. He was sure a few people saw him, but, like Darius had said, none of them looked surprised. More importantly, no one followed him as he half-walked half-ran from the courthouse.


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Sanders arrived at Poole's factory a few minutes later and found it rather active for being closed. The sounds of drills, hammers, and other tools rang out as Sanders rounded the corner of the Roman-built factory and headed into the massive construction yard.


Originally, the place had been an old mom and pop auto-store. A few rusted, and utterly useless, auto parts were still scattered about the area, old monuments to the building’s original purpose. However, the rest of the work area had been dramatically changed with new scaffolding, work benches, tool shelves, and everything else a major factory needed to run its projects. The old hydraulic pumps that had been used to raise cars still worked and one was now being used to keep the reinforced platform off the ground without Pyrrha's aid. A number of other large projects, including one that seemed to be turning a rifle into a new turret, were scattered about the huge work area as well, some using the other hydraulic lifts while others were left on the ground. Sanders could imagine the noise, smoke, and general barely contained chaos that ruled this place during the day. Right now, though, all the chaos was contained in and around the platform.


As Sanders moved closer to the platform a very familiar bit of earthquakes shook the ground. He turned just in time to see Pyrrha skid to a halt beside him, a gust of wind following behind from her huge form displacing so much air. Her massive head set itself onto the ground and she blasted him with a gust of warm breath.


"Did I do good, Sanders?" she asked as he shook his head at the craziness of this. And the fact that he hadn't felt so much as a ping of fear as Pyrrha's building-dwarfing mass had zoomed toward him. Hell, if anything, he had been exciting himself to see her happy, eager, face.


"Yes you did very good, Pyrrha. Everyone feels a lot better seeing you with our new weapon," Sanders said giving Pyrrha's cheek a rub. A big smile spread over her face and she let a chest rumbling purr escape as he rubbed her.  Sanders might have moved in closer and used the excuse of pets to snuggling into her warmth, but noticed Poole heading his way. Pyrrha's warmth would have to wait...


"Sanders! Good to see you managed to slip away from your fans to grace us lowly workers with your presence!" Kenny said with his usual big smile and bigger laugh. Sanders gave him a half-faked annoyed face before accepting his open hand.


"If you're a lowly worker I hate to imagine what your underlings are," Sanders fired back causing Kenny to let out another laugh.


"HAHA! Why their workers too! Just ones with easier jobs, hehe. A lot easier considering how much work this thing has been..." Kenny replied before turning to lead Sanders to the platform. Pyrrha tagged along as well, but keep her footsteps light and nearly unnoticeable. Poole seemed a bit unnerved by that, but Sanders had long gotten used to it.


Getting a better look at the platform, Sanders noticed that there weren't that many people working on it. In fact... it was really only a small handful. The rest of the activity were from people on the ground moving ammo crates or hauling them into the interior of the platform. And one other thing leapt out at him, everyone here, save Kenny, was a Phoenix.


"I'm guessing Darius insisted only Phoenixes know about this?" Sanders kinda asked, though he was positive he knew the answer. Kenny's smile faltered for a second and a bit of anger appeared in his eyes. But it faded quickly and he nodded.


"Yes... Thought it would help keep this a secret," Kenny said with unusual tacturness. Apparently the factory owner did not agree with that sentiment. But that issue was pushed aside as Jimmy noticed them and repelled down from a spot he had been checking over.


"Sanders," Jimmy said with a nod, which Sanders returned, before continuing, "We're doing a few last minute checks before we get Pyrrha suited up. Once we're done, and Markete's people get the last of the ammo loaded, you'll be good to go." He looked rather confident of that, but Kenny had a bit of worry on his face.


"Just fair warning, I would have preferred to have a few more days of testing, but... well I'm sure Darius explained our time constraints in his own smartass way. Just don’t put too much faith in the armor and try not to do any real crazy maneuvers," Kenny warned, getting a slight smirk from Jimmy at the smartass comment. Sanders smiled as well and nodded in understanding.


"Got it, we’ll keep things as uncrazy as possible,” Sanders said as he glanced back up to Pyrrha. She smiled down and nodded in agreement. Kenny seemed a bit more relaxed hearing that, but still looked worried.


"Still, just in case, I'd like to do a few checks on the straps for the platform. Checks that would be easier with the ca- Pyrrha there," Kenny asked, though he glanced between both Pyrrha and Sanders. Pyrrha didn't look very eager to leave him, but Sanders knew Kenny wouldn't have asked if it wasn't important.


"Go help him Pyrrha, we don't want the straps breaking and us all falling off of you," Sanders said with a brighter smile than he felt. Fuck why did he put that thought in his head? Despite the unappealing mental image, his words worked and Pyrrha sighed before nodding. Kenny lead her toward the front of the platform and started to yell up at the workers on the platform. Jimmy gave Sanders another nod before pulling himself back up to the platform as well. With both of them busy, Sanders turned to head to where the other Phoenixes were working. It would be best if he meet Marketa before the mission started and got a feel for her style of command. Thankfully, she wasn’t hard to find.


Marketa was rather short, probably only 5'4 back when she was full sized, but was quite the looker. Her short, curly brown hair ringed her face like a mane and her black skin was almost like jet. Most of all, though, was the obvious fitness to her. She wasn't close to Gabby levels, but her muscle was obvious even in her heavy furs. He was a bit surprised that she was the second to that crazy pyro Gerard, she didn't seem the type to "fit in" with him. Still, she seemed capable enough as she keep the ammo boxes moving to the platform and no one seemed annoyed or anger at obeying her.


As Sanders approached she gave a quick nod to him before seeing the last box was on its way. With the ammo about to fully loaded, Marketa turned to face him.


"Sanders Cutter, it's an honor to be serving alongside you," Marketa said with a salute and a bright and energetic smile. Oh great... seems his tales of heroism were spreading into the Phoenixes too... Despite the unwelcome revelation, Sanders managed to give her a smile and return the salute.


"Just Sanders is fine, and I'm really not all that special," Sanders said, trying to temper Marketa's obvious hero worship. However, it seemed to only make it worse as her eyes brightened further. Sanders was about to try a different approach, but was interrupted by a voice behind Marketa.


"Damn right he's nothing special..." a snide female voice said. Sanders glanced around Marketa and saw a familiar, and unwelcome, face glaring at him. Tiffany. Oh great... and it seemed she was still mad about shoving Henderson into Flonne. Before Sanders could do anything other than inwardly sigh, however, Marketa whirled on the still glaring Tiffany.


"Did I ask for your input?! Get your ass to the platform and help your talking dildo make sure the cannon is working!" Marketa bellowed causing Sanders to jump a bit. Even more shocking, however, was Tiffany’s reaction. Without a single comment, complaint or anything, Tiffany just fled as fast as she could. Hell she almost looked relieved to be fleeing and not having to stay.


Marketa glared after Tiffany for a few seconds before letting out a low growl and turning back to Sanders. Her enraged look slowly faded as she took a few deep breaths.


"Sorry about her. Tiffany seems to have a stupid need to be a fucking bitch at all times. Lost her brother and thinks it's a free pass, cunt everyone has los-" Marketa stopped before clamping her mouth shut and taking another breath. Sanders was starting to see that she did indeed "fit in" with Gerard....


"Don't worry about it, I've... experienced her before," Sanders said causing Marketa to smirk.
"Anyway, Darius said you'd have more information about the mission." Marketa's smirk vanished almost instantly and she gave a crisp nod as her face became almost robotic. She took out a small Roman-made notepad and flipped it open before reading through it and looked back to Sanders.


"Our main objective is the destruction of supplies, personal, and anything of else of military value in the Society's camp. My squad, yourself, Pyrrha, Henderson, and his spotter are the only troops we will have on this mission. We have, however, been authorized to make use of the first models of the new wingsuits, one of which I will be taking," Marketa added as her unflinching stare cracked a tiny smile,
"the C4 explosive we recovered from the Reapers along with a few additional charges that the Romans took from the Army Reserve Base nearby. We will use the explosives to destroy as much equipment as we can while Pyrrha and the platform gives us cover. Once we are satisfied with the destruction, or the threats become too great, we will retreat back to the line. Sama- Captain Samantha will be receiving news of our attack once we move out and will have the line ready to cover our retreat."


Sanders blinked as Marketa finished her military-like briefing. It was... unexpected, but did get him the info he was looking for. Sneak in with Pyrrha, wingsuit to the stuff, blow them up, kill anyone who comes out, leave before they get overrun. It was simple enough, but he doubted things would stay simple once they got there. The Society had already pulled out a weapon they never expected in the Reapers, who knew what would be waiting in their camp... Despite that, Sanders keep his face neutral as he nodded. No reason to let Marketa or anyone else see his worry.


"Alright. Guess my only other question, then, is where do I get my wingsuit?" Sanders asked. Marketa's stone-like face broke into a big grin.


"Right this way, Sanders. Poole and Jimmy made sure to finish it before starting on the platform," she said with a smile before turning to the platform.


"Explosives team, get down here! We're suiting up!" Marketa yelled with enough force to easily punch through the various noises of the workers. He was really, REALLY starting to see why she had been the second to Gerard. By the time Marketa and he arrived at where the suits had been stored, the rest of the team had gathered and all came to attention. Sanders, though, barely noticed them as he spotted his suit waiting for him.


Kenny and Jimmy had outdone any expectations Sanders had. He had feared his chest piece would look odd or out-of-place on the rest of the suit. Instead, it looked like it had always belonged there. It was almost like...like the day he had been given that suit...


Marketa began to give orders to her troops, but Sanders didn't hear them. He was lost in memories of better times. Isabella smiling down at him as she set the box down before him. Trying it on for the first time... Aviel poking f-... Aviel...


Sanders snapped back to the present as fresh anger and hate washed through him. The others were all getting into their suits and Marketa gave him a worried look. He waved it off as he started to put the suit on. He stopped as he noticed something on the back on his chest piece. A picture... Why wa-FUCK he forgot to take the  picture out of.... of........


Staring back at Sanders was his own smiling face... Behind him was Isabella's massive head, a rare smile gracing it. And on her shoulder sat the ever-cheerful Flonne, who just had to wave for the camera... The picture had been sewn into the back fabric of the chest armor and a small message had been left beside it.


"It never hurts to remember what you are fighting for."


Sanders didn't know who had wrote it. It could have been Jimmy or Kenny... but he was sure they would have said something when he had seen them. Whoever it was, though, was right... it was. And who he was fighting against. Sanders looked at the ripped part of the photo, where another person's half smile should have been... a person he once considered as close as a big sister should have been. A person he wished with all his heart was at the camp, so that she could, finally, pay for her crimes.


Despite his delay, Sanders was the first to fully don his suit. He did a few checks on it, made sure the wings worked, before snatching up his machine gun. It was fully loaded and had a new, much smaller, drum of ammo built onto it, the backpack drum was too heavy to be used with the suit. He'd have less ammo, but he'd make due. Everything was ready and he started to head to the platform.


"Sanders?" Marketa said, causing Sanders to remember that there were others with him. He turned back as the demo team, now fully suited up themselves, looked to him.


"Are you alright? You seemed a bit... out of it," Marketa asked with a worried look. Sanders sighed inwardly as he thought of the faces he had to have been making while in his head. But as his eyes, instinctively, looked down he saw the picture and its message... He gave a firm nod.


"Yes. I was just thinking that it never hurts to remember what we are fighting for... And what we are fighting against. Those monster in that camp knew what the Society did during the Shrink Disaster and STILL choose to side with them. They wallow in their own little pools of power and control while treating their fellow humans like toys or fodder, things to be cast aside without a second thought!. But tonight, tonight we are going to give them a cold dose of reality. That the toys and fodder can fight back and, most importantly, are more determined and more motivated than they could ever HOPE to be," Sanders paused as he glanced back at the picture, "Because we have something far, FAR more important to fight for than power."


"Damn straight!" one of the people yelled before the others took up the yell. Sanders was a bit surprised by how loud they were, till he realized cheering was coming from behind him. The workers on the platform, the other troops, and even Henderson, though he stopped after a glare from Tiffany, were all cheering and getting pumped up for the mission. Sanders hadn't meant that to be a pep talk... hell he was really just talking about his own rage at Aviel, but it had worked as one. Marketa gave him a smirk before bumping his shoulder.


"They didn't tell me you were an inspirational speaker too," she said before yelling for the cheering to die down and everyone to get back to work. Sanders hadn't known it either...


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A few minutes later saw Sanders being lifted, by Pyrrha, to the "crown" that sat on top of her head. Calling the thing a crown was rather misleading as the small pillars that encircled the platform didn't even pass the halfway-point of Pyrrha's huge ears. In fact, it looked closer to a yamaka that someone had tried to militarize: straps, metal, and all. The straps keeping it in place passed on either side of Pyrrha's ears before hooking together below her chin. In theory, that was to keep it from moving out of place even if Pyrrha swung her head around. A few tests showed it working well enough, but Sanders was going to make sure he was ready to bail just in case.




Still, it was a going to be a very welcome change to having to cling to Pyrrha's hair or ears. The pillars all had hooks on them that he could attach to which would let him keep both arms free. Even better, it had a turret stand in the middle so he could hook the machine gun in and not have to haul it around. Even the drum of ammo was set next to it, ready to be hooked in in case Sanders needed to throw a LOT of firepower downrange.
 
But, as with everything, there was a downside... and a big one in this case. Behind his part of the platform, and raised a bit higher, was a pseudo lookout spot. A lookout spot occupied by Tiffany... Sanders understood why she needed to be here. Unlike with the old platform, Tiffany couldn't really spot from beside Henderson. He and the rest of the gun crew were stuffed safely away in the armored shell of the platform. But that same armor made it impossible for Tiffany to do her job. Which meant she needed to be outside... and the only reasonably safe place to be outside the platform was beside Sanders and his machine gun... And to make matters worse-


Suddenly, the radio Tiffany had in her hand crackled to life. Sanders couldn't make out what it said, but Tiffany nodded and gave a quick, and crisp, affirmative.


"Everyone is ready inside, Mr. Hero. Whenever you are ready to lead us gloriously forward," Tiffany said in a snide tone. Ugh... It would have been so easy to tell Pyrrha to flick her off her head... But they needed her for this mission and she had their radio, the only means he had of talking to Marketa and the rest of the platform. Jimmy had promised to fix that later, but radio was their only option for this mission. So Tiffany, and her fucking mouth, would have to stay and Sanders would just have to pretend she wasn't here.


"Alright. Pyrrha, let's get moving," Sanders said as Pyrrha lifted the platform off its hydraulic stand and started forward. No sounds of ripping or bits of metal crashing down came from behind them as Pyrrha headed out of the factory and into the biting cold. Snow was still falling from the sky, but only tiny, even compared to them, drops. The platform was holding and now... now...


Sanders didn't have to give the command as Pyrrha sprang forward and into a four-legged jog. Sanders locked the machine gun into the stand and pulled the fur scarf he had over his mouth. It was going to be a cold run to the line.


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"All forces on the line are to be on high alert."
-Darius


Samantha had to reread the orders William had delivered a third time as she was SURE she had read it wrong. But no, the madness in paper form was still there. High alert...HIGH FUCKING ALERT!! Did Darius not know how worn out her troops were? Did he think they were machines, capable of constant vigil?! DId she think they were too stupid to realize the implications of being put on high alert when they hadn't been attacked in so long?!


Suddenly, someone cleared their throat and Samantha whipped her furious gaze up to the offending party. Despite the withering gaze Samantha had leveled at him, William gave Samantha an understanding smile. It would have been nice to bite off his head, to scream and rage at this stupidity... but William didn't deserve that and she'd feel even worse once she calmed down. He was just the messenger… a messenger that sympathized with her anger...


"Fucking bastard... Charles!" Samantha yelled, doing her best to get her anger under control. Her second appeared in the doorway a second later and gave a quick salute.


"Cancel all rests and off duties. We're going to high alert," Samantha said, keeping her voice even despite the bubbling anger inside her. Charles blinked a few times and opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it as he glanced toward William


"I...Of course, Ma'am. I'll get Graves and his people up as well," Charles said before saluting and moving off. Dammit, she had forgotten this was supposed to be Graves' night off. Dammit Darius! Graves and his people NEEDED a fucking rest and now...


"Darius better have a DAMN good reason for this," Samantha half-said and half-hissed at William. William's smile didn't so much as twinge as he patted Samantha's shoulder.


"I can't tell you what is going on, yet, but I can assure you this IS important. And that your people will be glad they are awake to see this," William said as a small twinkle seemed to appear in his eyes. Samantha was about to ask him what that meant, but stopped as she felt something. Was that a qu- oh no...


Leaping from her desk, Samantha rushed out and into the command center. Charles was already yelling for someone to get the turrets on the radio as the rumblings increased in volume and strength. Dammit how had Darius known about an attac- wait... Samantha glanced back to William and saw how calm he looked. And more importantly, that the source of the quakes wasn't in front of them...


Suddenly, the quakes reached their crescendo and everyone had to fight to keep their feet. Samantha looked out the nearby window and saw a massive figure rushing past the line and heading straight for the jury-rigged wall the Society had built. Jessica... and with a platform that looked closer to a tank than a base on her back. All the anger and frustration Samantha had had a second ago vanished as a wave of realization and excitement washed over her. Dammit Darius indeed...


"Everyone, I want the turrets loaded and ready to fire! Vicki, get our bombards dug in and prepped for defensive fire! Ken, I want our medical station fully staffed and ready to take wounded. Charles," Samantha paused as her second turned away from the window, a look of shock still on his face. He stared at her for a brief second before the same realization appeared in his eyes.


"Spread the word," Samantha said and Charles gave an enthusiastic salute as a big grin appeared on his face.


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"Hold on," Pyrrha warned as she bent down in front of the wall. With a grunt of effort, Pyrrha leapt into the air and cleared the wall the big mean ladies had built. She landed on top of a broken metal mov- car and quickly bounded off it and back into the snow. Pyrrha took a second to kneel down in the shadows and give her friends time to recover.


"Are you alright?" Pyrrha whispered to Sanders. She had been worried about going over it so fast, but Sanders and the black lady on the box had insisted. Something about this being time sensitive? Pyrrha didn't know what that meant, but she trusted Sanders knew best.


"Yeah... yeah I'm good. Taylor?" Sanders said, asking about the other lady on her head.


"I'm fine," she snapped back before pausing as a voice came out of the odd b-radio.
"Marketa reports their good too," the rude lady said. Pyrrha would have told her to be nicer, but she was supposed to keep quiet. She'd tell her later.


"Alright. Let's move, Pyrrha, slow and low," Sanders instructed and Pyrrha gave a small nod. She keep herself low to the ground as they headed forward. A few yards away, Pyrrha could just make out the shapes of tents and other things. Even with her better vision, the near pitch-black night made it hard to make out anything distinct. But it is definitely the camp.


Inching closer, Pyrrha keep a sharp eye, and nose, out for any signs of patrols. So far, though, she wasn't seeing or smelling anything moving about. In fact, most of the scents she was getting were rather muted... like somethin- Their inside the tents. Pyrrha slowed to a stop as they closed to within a yard or so and hid behind a mo- car that the mean ladies hadn't moved.


Now that they were closer, Pyrrha could make out more than just the tents. Most of the area had been cleared of the worst of the snow and wires snaked over the area. The wires headed to the various tents in the area but all converged at a rumbling ma-generator. Beside the tents were piles of boxes, though Pyrrha didn't know wha- Those are the supplies. There looked to be three big piles of supplies in total, though other boxes were littered about the area as well. In the middle of the camp was a fire pit, though it was unlit.


"Any patrols?" Sanders asked and Pyrrha shook her odd thoughts away. She gave a quick shake of her head in answer.
"No? Seriously?"


"Is it really THAT surprising? You think these arrogant cunts would belittle themselves by even considering us sub-humans would dare attack them?" the rude lady said. Rude, but has a point.


"Good point... How many are in there, Pyrrha?" Sanders asked. Pyrrha leaned a bit further out of her cover and took a few sniffs of the air. It was hard to get a good sense of numbers thanks to the smells being muted by the tents, but she was fairly sure there were ten or so big mean ladies. She also smelled some of the little winged ones, but a LOT of her sisters... Thankfully, their smells were just as diminished as the others. They were inside too.


"Ten big ones, a few flying, but lots of ca-" Pyrrha stopped as the wind shifted and she caught the scent of something far, FAR closer. Pyrrha's head snapped up and barely managed to spot a tiny figure on the hood of the car. The figure tried to flee backwards, but Pyrrha was quicker. She sprang up and snatched the figure off the car before landing back on the ground. The figure clawed into her with surprising, but familiar, strength. Reaper, kill it! Pyrrha tightened her grip and a wet crunch came from her hand.


Pyrrha had no time to inspect the remains, however, as she caught the scent of more of the Reapers. Only they weren't heading for them- They're trying to warn the others! Warn Sanders!


"Sanders, the Reapers-!" Pyrrha started to say but was interrupted.
"I know! Do you see the supplies?"
"Ye-"
"Get us to them! Go!" Sanders ordered and Pyrrha nodded before springing out from her cover.


No sooner did she come out of cover did a barrage of arrows come flying toward her. Pyrrha leap to the side to avoid most of them and a good bit of the rest simple bounced off the armor she was wearing, but some still managed to hit her right hand and lower arm. Ignoring the pain, Pyrrha rushed forward and made a bee-line for the closest pile of boxes. However, a huge force of Reapers was already set up in a line between her and the pile.


"Taylor, tell Marketa we're going loud!" Sanders yelled before his machine gun erupted to life. Bullets went flying down from Pyrrha's head and began to chew through the Reapers who had fired at her. At the same time, lights began to come on in some of the tents and movement could be seen in them. So much for surprising them...


Pyrrha plowed her way through the tiny Reapers. She batted or simply stepped on most while Sanders shredded others. Despite their efforts, though, Pyrrha felt a few managing to clamber onto her legs and arms. More stabs of pain began to run up her arms and legs as their blades cut into her. Ugh she HATED these tiny things! Use the flak guns Jimmy put on us!


Rather than stopping to pull them off, Pyrrha activated the button Jimmy had told her about. A sudden explosion came from her wrists and ankles and the Reapers that had grabbed onto her vanished instantly. Flak wrist bands, gotta love that. Even better, a lot of the Reapers that were closing in, also, were knocking to the ground.


The backpack Pyrrha was carrying started to blare to life too as their guns ripped more Reapers apart. The rude lady was yelling something into her radio, but stopped all of a sudden. A second later, the loud WHOOMP of the big gun filled the air. A figure in one of the tents suddenly lost her head as another big lady yelled in surprise. Taylor went back to yelling things as the light in the tent suddenly went out.


With the Reapers in front of them either crushed, shot, or shredded, Pyrrha rushed forward before slowed to a stop next to the pile of supplies. More Reapers were pouring out of hidden spots in the sn- bunkers and a few were, already, getting onto the supplies. However, the big mean ladies hadn't gotten out and neither had any of her sisters.


"Get us to the top of the boxes, Pyrrha. Once we're off, keep the Society distracted. Taylor, tell Marketa it’s time!" Sanders yelled as his gun went silent. Pyrrha gave a short nod before clambering up the boxes and stopping once her head was above the top of it. She hissed and tried to swat more of the Reapers away, but for everyone she managed to crush two more seemed to come...


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Sanders released his machine gun and locked in the smaller magazine. With his gun ready, he unhooked from the crown before running to the side of Pyrrha's head. With a flick of his wrist, the wings sprang out from his suit and Sanders leap off and into thin air.


For a horrifying second, Sanders found himself plummeting toward the ground. His mouth was halfway to forming a call for help when, suddenly, he was yanked upward by his suit. He grunted from the sudden change in direction, but the shock was replaced with wonder. He was flying... He was really flying!


Panic gave way to wonder and excitement as the battle raging around him was forgotten. Sanders shifted his weight and watched as his flight path shifted with it. He had to shift back quickly, though, as he almost turned over. He didn't know if the suit worked upside down and had no interest in finding out. His joy came to an abrupt end, however, as an arrow whizzed past him. Fuck, the battle!


Snapping back to reality, Sanders looked down to see a few Reapers already starting to clamber up the piles of boxes. They were still rather low on the pile, but were making fast progress thanks to their enhanced abilities. Hell, they were jumping half way up a box before scaling the rest with ease. A few were taking pot shots at him and the rest of the team, but most were wildly off target. Even with their enhanced strength, the arrows were only accurate out to a certain distance, a distance he and the rest were, thankfully, beyond. The same did NOT apply to his machine gun, however.


Sanders tried to level his gun on them, but no sooner did he unspread his arms did he start to plummet. He, quickly, spread them and swore as he remembered he wasn't flying, just gliding. And the wing flaps between his arms and chest were a major component to him being able to do that. If he unspread them to fire, he'd drop like... well a human. He needed to reach the ground if he wanted to engage the Reapers. And he needed to reach it fast as they were already halfway up the pile...


Thankfully, Sanders was approaching the top of the large pile of supplies. He tried to figure out how to slow down and land, but only succeeded in nearly falling short. With a curse of panic, Sanders slammed into the box, jarring himself and tumbling to the ground. He skidded on his chest piece a few feet, but came to a stop rather quickly. He hoped no one had saw that, but his hopes were dashed as more thuds came from behind him.


Sanders looked back and saw Marketa and her team coming in for a landing. Thankfully for his ego, they all landed with just as much grace as he had and seemed just as clueless on how to land properly. Maybe they should have asked some of the Romans to give them a crash course on using these things… Still, they all managed to reach the top.


"On...On your feet! Kens, get that C4 over here. Rest of you, take up covering positions!" Marketa barked out as she picked herself up out of the heap she had wound up in. Sanders and the rest of the team got to their feet as Kens rushed to Marketa. He whirled to turn his back to her and she, quickly, got to pulling out the C4 from his backpack.


"Reap-!" someone yelled before being silenced as an arrow punctured his face. Sanders swore as he whirled to face where the arrow had come from. Not bothering to get a target, Sanders simply sprayed the area with gunfire as others from the team did the same. The archer, caught in the open, was blown back by the sudden spray of fire and was sent tumbling down off the crate. Two more Reapers, however, managed to duck back down below the edge of the crate to avoid the fire.


"Keep spraying the edges! They can't dodge automatic fire!" Sanders ordered, remembered his fight with the cybernetic assassins. They were quick enough to juke out of the way of burst fire, but couldn't dodge gunfire that was sprayed in their general direction. There simply wasn't anywhere to dodge TO.


The team split up into groups to spray each edge as Marketa and Kens got the explosive set. Sanders tried to be sparing with his own fire, knowing his machine gun had far more oomph than the others rifles. And while they were only dealing with Reapers so far, he knew that was unlikely to continue.


As if pressing that point home, another chest-rattling WHOOMP erupted from the air cannon. Two giantesses had managed to get out of the tent and the first had been greeted with a cannon blast. The baseball-sized shell smashed into her energy shield, but lost too much force before getting through. Rather than punching a hole right through her gut, it only doubled her over. But her shield was still down which meant...


"Pyrrha, turn your side to the downed giantess!" Sanders yelled, knowing his voice would cut through the noise enough for her superior hearing to catch. Pyrrha stopped her swatting of Reapers to give a small nod. She had to leap off the supplies to do it, but she managed to bring the side of the platform to bear. The giantess had enough time to look up before her face and upper body were punctured by a full broadside of the typhoons on the platform.


The other giantess, however, was quicker and smarter than her comrade. Rather than try to take on the armored monster, she rushed to a nearby tent and dived inside. Even worse, she didn't turn on the light making it impossible for Taylor to get a bead on where she was. Hopefully she was just calling in help... help that wouldn't get here before they were done.


Another arrow slammed into another soldier, killing her instantly, and Sanders swore as he realized moving Pyrrha away had let the Reapers be more bold. Worse, some of the team was having to stop their suppressive fire to reload. They needed to ge-


"Explosives set, let's move!" Marketa, suddenly, ordered as she rushed to the edge closest to Pyrrha. Sanders and the rest of the team did the same, firing quick bursts behind them to keep the Reapers pinned down. Their less focused fire, however, let a few leap out and get shots off. Sanders tried to pick them off as he ran, but there were simply too many. Another Phoenix took an arrow right in the shoulder and collapsed into a heap. Sanders tried to turn back for him, but was pulled off the edge by someone else. A short burst of gunfire came from above them, but was silenced almost immediately. Dammit...


Pushing the lost soldier out of his mind, Sanders focused on landing as the team approached the side of the platform. Once again the group proved unskilled and all of them simply slammed into the metal surface. Most, including Sanders and Marketa, managed to weather the impact and grab hold, but others were not so lucky. Thankfully, the more sure handed of the team managed to grab them before they plummeted to the ground far below. Sanders made sure they were all hooked on before turned to face Pyrrha's head.


"We're on, Pyrrha! Head to the next pile!" he ordered before turning to fire a quick burst at the top of the supplies above them. A few Reapers were forced to dodge back before they could get a shot off, but started to move forward again as soon as he stopped.


"Bu-" Pyrrha started to say, but Sanders cut her off as Marketa shook the detonator at him. The Reapers had to be working on disarming the explosives, but she couldn't detonate it with them still so close.


"NO BUTS! GO PYRRHA, NOW!!!" Sanders yelled as loud as he could. Pyrrha got the message and starting to kind of crab walk toward the other pile, keeping herself, and the platform, between them and the worst of the Reapers. Marketa waited till she had got a foot or so away before pushing the detonator.


The night, briefly, turned to day as the C4 exploded in a sudden fireball of fury. The moment of daylight vanished just as quickly as it came and left only flying bits of wood, plastic, and what looked to be food. Thankfully, they had backed away enough for the debris to simply ping off them or splatter in the case of the food. A cheer quickly went up from the team and Sanders joined in. One down...


"They're taking out the supplies!" a giantess yelled.


"Ya think?! Someone do something!" another yelled as Pyrrha closed in on the second pile, managing to outpace the Reapers with ease.


By this point, the giantesses that were still in their tents had turned off their lights and were hidden from sight, giving no targets for Taylor or Henderson. Sanders was a bit surprised none of them seemed eager to rush them. Then again, they had no idea how many shots that turret had and two of them had been killed by it already. Add in the shock of THEM being attacked and their perceived invulnerability being dashed, all in the space of a few seconds... Whatever the reason, they needed to make use of it. If the giantesses did get their nerve back and all rushed them, they'd have no choice but to retreat.


"Hurry, Pyrrha, get us to the top of the next pile!" Sanders ordered as Pyrrha stopped crab walking and turned to face the pile. Like the last one, she clambered up til her back was level with the top and the team leap off and glided over to the edge. This time, Sanders managed to keep his feet after landing, but still stumbled forward a few steps.


"Amber, your turn," Marketa ordered as the female Phoenix headed over. Sanders and the rest turned to cover the edges, but the Reapers had fallen behind and Pyrrha had put herself right in their path. She and the typhoons were taking a heavy toll and it was looking like they wouldn't reach them in time. They might be ab-


A sudden, and loud, hiss got everyone to turn toward one of the tents. The tent the second giantess had dived into... Out of the tent came what Sanders had been dreading since they arrived, a cat monster. And it was followed by another, and another, and another. Each one made a beeline for Pyrrha, hissing, roaring, and ready to kill. The turret fired and killed the first and the typhoons started to shred the second, but more and more of the monsters were pouring out of the tent. And the Reapers keep charged forward to get to grips with Pyrrha. By the time Marketa and Amber had finished setting the explosives ten had exited the tent and more were still coming.


"Explosives set, let's go!" Marketa yelled before falling in beside Sanders.
"I think this is all we are going to get..." she admitted with a sigh. Sanders was starting to think that as well as the catmonsters began to close in. Pyrrha could outpace them once she got going, but she couldn't fend them off while they set the explosives. And if she left them on the supplies those things would make a meal of all of them with ease. But they needed to destroy all of the supplies or risk the Society managed to make due with what they have. This NEEDED to work or Rome would...


"Give me the last charge," Sanders told the Phoenix carrying the last backpack. Sanders’ general reputation proved to be useful, for once, and the man handed it over without questions. Marketa started to voice an objection, but Sanders cut her off.


"We all can't make it to the last pile, but one of us could. Keep them busy, that's an order!" Sanders said before heading to the edge of the supplies closest to the last pile.


"Technically, you're not the boss of me!" Marketa yelled after him, but didn't make any movement to stop or follow him. Instead, she and the rest of the team leapt off and started to glide down to the antsy Pyrrha. And for good reason, as the catmonsters were only a few feet from her now and the Reapers were starting to climb onto her. The turret roared out again, blasting the closest catmonster apart, but more were right behind it. Sanders wanted to keep watching, but Pyrrha and the rest disappeared as the rigged pile rose to block his view. He gave a silent prayer that they'd be safe.


Unable to help, or even watch, the others; Sanders focused on his own situation. He was gliding down from the supplies and toward the snow far below. It didn't look to be too deep, thanks to the Society clearing the area recently, but it'd still slow him down. Worse, being on the ground meant he would be all too vulnerable to a passing catmonster or a patrol of Reapers. Sure his gun could bring the hurt to either, but would also draw attention. Attention that would spell his doom...


Sanders glanced around and tried to see something he could attach to with the grapple. He had seen Victor use the grappling hook in his wingsuit to keep in the air, Sanders might be able to do the same. He was sure there was more to it than just hooking to something, but Sanders would never learn if he didn't try. However, there was a major problem. There was nothing to hook TO. The only thing between Sanders and the next pile was a single tent. Worse, the tent was slightly out of the way, AND was out of range, AND might have a giantess in it. He might be able to glide far enough to get in range before hitting the ground, but that was a big if. And even if he did manage it, Sanders doubted it would give him enough lift and speed to get him all the way to the pile. Shit, he shou-


A sudden explosion caused Sanders thoughts to stop dead. He glanced back and saw the second pile go up in smoke, fire, debris, and body parts? What the? Sanders just caught the form of Pyrrha, running to the outside of the camp, but going in a way that shouldn't hav- Of course... she had gone back over the supplies. That was why there was bits of people mixed into the settling debris. Marketa must have figured the explosives could be used to kill two birds. Even with that trick, though, there was a lot of catmonsters chasing them and even some fairies looked to have joined in. Dammit, he should have told them to leave and not even bother coming back for him... or just left with them considering Pyrrha would NEVER agree to leave him... Dammit!


Seeing how he had put everyone at risk with his "heroics", Sander knew he had to risk the tent. They didn't have time for him to hoof it to the last pile and still manage to escape. Either he figuring out how to, quickly, glide to the last pile with the help of the tent, or he was going to have to give up on getting it. If it came to that, he'd use the whistle to call in Pyrrha and order a retreat. That last pile wasn't worth getting them all killed... even if it might mean they all die when the Society makes that push Darius warned about. But one was a possible death while the other was assured death, there really wasn't a choice.


Sanders shifted his weight and veered his glide toward the tent. The nailed down canvas rose higher and higher above him as his tiny form sped along toward it. After some experiments, Sanders figured out how to increase the speed of his glide by shifting his arms just right. He was zooming along now, fast enough to make it hard to keep his eyes open, but still wasn't close enough to the tent. Dammit, come on! He couldn't let this turn into a fool's errand!


The ground was only a few scale yards below him now. The snow was getting worryingly close and he was starting to get keenly aware of how fast he was going. If he hit the ground at this speed he'd be lucky not to break something, even if he was landing in snow. Sanders had to make the call soon, either go for broke, literally, or slow down and admit defeat. The immense tent was tantalizingly close, but still at the edge of the grapple range. Fuck it, a broken bone or two was worth th-


Suddenly, a massive gust of wind caused Sanders to slam his eyes shut. He tried to yell in surprise, but the air seemed to be sucked right out of him. He was dimly aware of the wind catching on his suit and being flung somewhere, but his entire sense of direction seemed gone. For what seemed like a minute, it felt as if Sanders was trapped in a freezing cold tornado and then, then he slammed into the ground.


The impact would have drove the air out of Sanders, but all of it had already been sucked out. Instead, all it did was cause him to, silently, cry in pain. He gasped for air and coughed up much of what he managed. Despite the pain, confusion, and lack of oxygen, Sanders grabbed his machine gun and rolled himself onto his back. No sooner had he rolled over did a massive quake rock the area, sending snow flying. Sanders wiped the sprayed snow from his eyes and looked up... and up... and up.... but he ignored the instinctive fear as he pointed his gun up a-


Sanders' finger hovered over the trigger of his machine gun as a ball of wind sat, ready to blast out, in the fairy's huge hand. Neither of them made a move, however, as they locked eyes with each other. Flonne looked even bigger than she had in the middle school...