The plead for mercy was silenced with a punch and an explosion of ash. As the body's dry remains settled back on to the asphalt it's killer rose tall; still a simple silhouette highlighted by the dim streetlamp. Spitting at the newly formed dust heap, the figure turned and stepped closer to the light.
She was a larger woman hardened by well-developed muscle, yet she had an attractive femininity still about her. Despite it being over seventy years later, she was still dressed in her riveting uniform. Her hair pulled back into her bandana. Finally noticing her company, she grinned and raced toward the small crowd that was watching her.
"Joe!" She jogged over to a wiry man, but made sure to stop before getting too close to him. The last thing they needed was for him to grumble about her showcasing how much taller she was than him. He needed to keep his dignity around the new arrivals, and so she leaned forward in order to reach out her hand for him to take.
He gave her a knowing smile, but snubbed her extended arm. With a quick shift of the sniper rifle across his back, Joe opted to tip his hat to her instead. "Lottie, so nice of you to have come to meet up with us." Even after all the years running together, Joe's heavy Italian-American accent still made it hard for Lottie to figure out when he was being sincere or snarky. "How's the front lines?"
Lottie ignored the rest of the group and focused squarely on the thin man. "Well, for starters, it's 'bout time y'all showed up. Hank, Mollie, 'n I nearly cleared out Central Park all by our lonesome. Nearly didn't leave nothing for y'all to do."
"Yeah, well, ain't like I didn't try to hurry these guys. We're here now, though, so where's Hank?"
Lottie thumbed behind her to a building with broken-out windows and singed bricks. "He 'n Mollie be in there waiting for ya. Tremere should be showing up soon too. They arrived last night and are just clearing out Time Square real quick." She waved for the group to follow and headed across the street.
As she held the door open for the new arrivals she mentally counted them. Six. Joe made a point in stopping by some rinky-dink town on the way, and he was only able to bring six recruits with him. At least Hank was able to recruit thirteen Tremere and their lord. Shaking her head, Lottie followed the last man in - a hulk of a man that towered over even her large stature - and then skirted past the group in order to again lead.
The building was practically only holding together with spiderwebs and gum from squatters. Old support beams for the upper floors had collapsed, creating a maze of halls that were still useable. Some of the apartment complexes became new routes throughout the building; Lottie leading the group through giant holes in the connecting walls. Towards the back of the building a burly man stood over a makeshift table of construction horses and drywall. A well-worn map of New York City was pinned to the drywall with a couple of metal spikes.
As the small crowd entered the room the man stood straight. He was shirtless, but it kept a moment for anyone to tell. The only parts of his exposed body that didn't seem covered with hair were his palms, his nose, and around his eyes. He had a regalness about him despite his ragged pants and lack of any other clothing.
"Lottie, you've returned, I see." The man's voice was deep and rumbled a bit, "How did you fare in finding our cavalry?"
"Eh," she shrugged back and shoved her hands in to the pockets of her jumpsuit. "Had to take a few of them there Malkavians that was waiting for me. They were spineless pushovers though. Little harm done. Nothing a quick feed can't cure."
Hank nodded as he reached into a mini-fridge tucked behind him. He tossed her a bag they had liberated from a local blood bank. "Not good that they seemed to have known where the meet point was. We'll have to keep our communications to a minimum to prevent further leaks."
Lottie ripped open the bag and began drinking as she strolled towards the door. Propping a foot up against the wall, she leaned back and enjoyed her snack. Hank watched her cross the room, but lost interest as he saw the wiry man with the rifle. "Well met, Joe, it's about time you came and joined us." He paused for a moment to scan the small crowd at the door, and then check that there weren't any others waiting in the hall. "Shame you've brought such a measy crew, but any help is greatly appreciated."
Joe scrunched up his face and again shifted the rifle strapped to his back. Removing the baseball cap off his head, he bowed slightly. "Sorry 'bout the late arrival, Hank. Cobleskill is a bit of a small joint, but I think I got some power hitters. These guys can make a difference. I know it."
Hank nodded and walked up to the small group. "Alright, so let me know about these 'heavy hitters', what were you able to recruit?"
A man in full plate mail armor stepped up in front of the group, helmet in hand. He extended the other one and smirked. "Nice to finally meet you, Hank. I'm Dan. I'm in charge of these guys, so just let me know where you need them."
Hank threw his head back in a belly laugh before taking Dan's extended forearm in hand. The two comrades shook before Hank stepped over to the small collection of Dan's subordinates. "It is nice to finally meet the renowned Dan from Cobleskill, as well. So, Dan, Joe, what did you bring me to fight with?"
The remaining five recruits nervously looked at each other before one of them stepped forward. He was as fortified looking as Hank, but smaller and a little leaner. He seemed to be built of nothing but sinew. He covered up the majority of his body with an oversized black trenchcoat and a hat, but his eyes seemed more alert than everyone elses. He extended his arm for Hank to shake and gave a quick glance that silently instructed the others to line up for introductions.
Hank gave a toothy grin at this new man. "Ah! Another Gangrel! Fantastic!" He joyfully shook the man's arm and glanced behind him. At the back of the line was the miniature giant Lottie followed in; he was protectively standing behind a tiny spitball of a woman. "Oh, three Gangrel for the fray. Even better. Fantastic, what else have you brought me?"
As Hank dropped the trenchcoated man's arm Dan stepped between them. "As you noted, we do have three Gangrel in the mix. The two in the back are Ronan and Una-"
He was quickly cut off by a loud grunt from the man-giant and a giggle from the woman. "Ach, sorry 'bout that, Ronan here don't speak nothing but Gaelic. He understands English well enough, though." Hank and Lottie both stared at Dan, who simply shrugged. Una's own Scottish accent was so thick it was hard to recognize that she did know how to speak English.
"Anyway," Dan gave the couple a silencing stare. With a sigh he gestured towards the man in the trenchcoat that had walked up to Hank, "we just call him The Gangrel, but he is probably one of my most skilled and trusted soldiers."
Hank gave Dan a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Names are not nearly as important as skills out here." He turned towards the three Gangrel and gave a shallow bow, "Welcome, my friends."
The last two from Cobleskill gave each other uneasy looks before the female walked over to Dan. She stayed silent, but gave him a stern look that resembled a scolding wife. Dan choked down a laugh and motioned towards the woman as he addressed Hank. "This one is Katelyn, a fellow Brujah and my Sheriff."
The woman rolled up her flannel sleeves as she scoffed. "Yeah, fine. Enough of these pleasantries, can we get to fighting already? We didn't travel all the way down here to have a tea party." At no point did she even bother looking at Hank as she addressed Dan.
"Bit of a spitfire, this one, isn't she?" Hank gave a crooked smile that popped his sharp fang over his lower lip. Dan cocked an eyebrow as Katelyn huffed back over to the door. She gave Lottie a once-over before leaning against the wall beside her.
The final Cobleskill member adjusted his sleeveless tee and cracked his knuckles. "No offense, there, guys, but she kinda has a point. I'm here to punch things. So, when are we gonna punch things?"
"Another of your fellow Brujah?" Hank thumbed over to the slender man who looked like a metal band roadie.
Dan pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes under his sunglasses. "That would be Victor. He's-" Dan opened and shut his mouth a few times; struggling to figure out the best way to word his introduction. Eventually he just decided on, "He's a valuable fighter too. Itching to collapse someone's face in." Victor puffed his chest out at the compliment and gave an elbow nudge to The Gangrel.
"Well, I thank you all for joining in our little battle." Hank walked back over to his table and gestured at the map. Pen marks covered the paper and random bits of rubble scattered across the surface like a makeshift Risk game. He pounded his hands down on to the drywall tabletop, shaking the structure and leaving a few marks from his long fingernails. With the back of his hand he swept a small collection of screws over to the Hudson River portion of the map. "With any luck we can finish cleaning out Manhattan before the night is out."
"A'ight." Joe fixed the baseball cap back atop his head. "So let's fetch Mollie and let's get a move on. I'm tired of the Lunatics running my backyard, ya know?"
"Patience, Joe," Hank walked past the group to stand in the doorway beside Lottie and Katelyn. He took a few breaths, sniffing the air. "She went to meet up with the Tremere, but it seems they have finally arrived. They're making their way through the building as we speak." He then walked over to Dan, firmly laying a hand on the armored man's shoulder. "While we wait, I shall show you my plan. Come with me."
The two looked over the battle plan that Hank had drawn up on the map. It seemed simple enough, the Gangrel would follow Hank and pick off the front line of Malkavians holding down the last stronghold in Manhattan. Meanwhile, Dan and his fellow Brujah will race past and become the shields needed for the Tremere to work their blood magic and take the next wave of Malks down. The teams will leapfrog like that until they can push their way through to the Sabbat Bishop known as The Hatter; once done with their wave they will run through the hole the other team created and hit the following wave. Joe will be support to both squads by snipping from the rooftops as he made his own way towards Hatter.
"Miss us?" A chirpy little voice called out from the room entrance. Lottie grinned and held out a fist. The new woman pounded the top and bottom of the fist with her own before the two finished their handshake with a fist bump.
"Welcome back, Mollie. I hope your journey was less eventful than Lottie's was."
The little Irish punk rocker eyed up Lottie finishing the last drops of her blood bag. "I'd wager so considering I managed to not get banged up. Why? She ran into some kooks while she was out?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle, don't you worry your little head about me." Lottie crumpled up the bag and tossed it to a corner of the room. Hank stared at the litter for a moment before glaring at her. Mollie snorted a laugh as Lottie sheepishly walked over to pick up her trash.
"Oh, yeah. The Mighty Charlotte Sinclair. What was it? A single Shovel-head nom on your arm a bit?" Mollie mimed biting Lottie with loud chewing sounds.
"Horsefeathers, ya nut!" Lottie tossed the retrieved back into a large, metal drum Hank was using as a trashcan. "Took me out three of 'em. Easy like. 'Sept for one who done got a drop on me."
Mollie crossed her arms and smirked, "So, how'd he get ya?"
Lottie pursed her lips and turned away, shoving her hands deep in to her pockets. "So he bit my upper arm. What of it?"
Mollie's burst of laughter was quickly silenced by Hank clearing his throat. "You ladies quite finished? We do have a lot of work to do."
Dan quickly gave his own warning stare at Katelyn as she sighed out "finally." Mollie shrugged and briefly stepped outside the door. When she returned she was followed by a line of nine cloaked figures, the last one being an all-white cloak.
"We've lost five?" Hank's voice dropped with a hint of mourning.
"Aiden?" Dan shifted his weight to look past the other eight Tremere.
The young man in the white cloak pushed his hood off and smiled. "Kept ya guys long enough? You slackers."
"Well, we can't all teleport." Dan cocked an eyebrow. "Some of us have to actually drive the three hours."
Hank stepped in to the line of sight between the two men. "I'm guessing you know the Lord of the Tremere?"
"Why I wanted to go to Cobleskill in the first place," Joe chimed in.
"Yeah," Dan added, "he grew up in Cobleskill. Was my former Sheriff until he decided to dedicate more time to his studies and running of the Tremere."
"So, Lord Aiden's countrymen have joined the fray." Hank gestured for Aiden to join him and Dan by the New York City map. As the Tremere Lord crossed the room, Hank turned towards Joe. "Yes, a fine choice you made in stopping by Cobleskill first. A place that bred stock as Aiden's must be hearty in strong warriors."
"Yeah," Victor called out from the back of the room, "we're fantastic stock. Do we get to punch things yet?"
Hank quickly showed Aiden where his group would first hit. Meanwhile, the eight Tremere lined up against the wall; staying perfectly uniform in their black cloaks as they awaited Aiden's next order. They stood silent and vigilant as the members from Cobleskill attempted to address them. Not a single one responded; stoically remaining one unit derived of individuality. They refused to even address who came from which of the Tremere havens scattered throughout New York and New Jersey.
Ten minutes past. Mollie and Lottie continued their playful banter as they passed out more blood packs to any in need of getting back to full health. Ronan uneasily stood watch over an agitated Una whom he wasn't allowing to socialize. The Gangrel and Victor took joy in attempting to break the line of Tremere as if they were guards at Buckingham Palace. Katelyn angrily tapped her foot as she kept guard at the door.
"Alright," Hank bellowed out, "Let's head out."
"About fucking time," Katelyn grumbled as she stormed out the door.
"Sorry about her," Dan shook his head and headed towards the door as well. "Victor. Come on, we have to stop Katelyn at least long enough to tell you both were we're going."
"Fine with me." Victor made one last face at the Tremere; trying to get at least one of them to crack, but only managing to get The Gangrel to chuckle. Waving defeat, the lanky man hurried after Dan.
"Mollie, Lottie," Hank pointed towards the door, "He's going to need other Brujah with him in order to defend the Tremere. Go with."
"What about you?" Mollie rushed over to the burly man with the same concern as a child would have for her father.
"I've got my Gangrel comrades to aid me, and Joe watching from overhead."
"Damn right." Joe popped a toothpick into his mouth and started rolling it across his teeth with his tongue. "Let's get this shit over with so I can finally have a nice day's rest. Okay?"
"That plan's all wet, Hank," Lottie stood firm beside her surrogate sister. "Tremere alone can handle those kooks. Three Brujah shields should be plenty enough. Three Gangrel, on the other hand, ain't nearly enough. Don't care how strong y'all are. Y'all need shields too. So me and Mollie here are coming with. Don't you dare fight me on this, Old Man."
Hank's laugh vibrated the loose walls around them. "What do you think, Aiden? It's your hide."
"The Coby group are pretty badass, and I'm not too shabby myself. We can handle on our own. You take your group with you. They won't do me any good if they're spending the whole time worrying."
The girls identically grinned like a weird set of twins. Hank gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine. You two shall help us Gangrel take our waves out. Joe, you go back to the original plan: float between the two troops via the rooftops and help where you're most needed. Are we all good now?"
The two squads split up outside the dilapidated building. Each wished the other good luck in the mission, and placed bets on who would reach The Hatter first. Both the Albany team and the Cobleskill branch were itching to show off for the other group. Pumped up and ready to kick some heads in, they raced off to Alphabet City.