AUTHOR'S NOTES: A looong chapter this time, but there's a lot that happens. For those of you bored out of your minds with the talking chapters, this one is pretty much all action.
Zagan Airfield
Near Zagan, Republic of Poland
4 September 2001
10:30 PM Local
Cinder Fall tapped her artificial fingers on the control wheel of the Antonov An-2 transport impatiently. From flying the highest-performance fighters in the world to flying this antique. And I thought I'd hit rock-bottom with that F-86 Lil' Miss gave me. She smiled. Actually, I kind of liked that old bird. It had some character, and it could move. She glanced around the cockpit, and her smile disappeared. Not like this old shitbox.
Cinder supposed she was being unfair. The An-2 was actually a good aircraft, even a great one: it was a biplane, a throwback to World War I, but it had been designed just after World War II as a utility aircraft. It was surprisingly large, tough, reliable, and easy to fly—and was so slow that, in a headwind, the An-2 could actually fly backwards and remain controllable. Because it was mostly wood and fabric, it was also cheap and easy to repair, and even a little stealthy. Since the Polish Air Force still used them for general duties, it was simple to fly from just outside Warsaw to Zagan without anyone being the wiser; no one looked twice at the An-2. Since the transport had plenty of room, it easily held all of the Hound's strike force. Cinder still hated flying it, and figured that, despite her flowery words, this was one way Salem was getting back at her.
There were other reasons Cinder was impatient and irritable. One was that she, and the strike force, were being forced to wait for the Hound to actually show up. They had left two hours previously, while the Hound would follow in his Night Raven. Practically invisible to NATO radars, he would find a good stretch of road and land: despite its size and complexity, Salem's engineers had stayed true to their Soviet design backgrounds, and made it so the Night Raven could land on unimproved airstrips. The Hound and two very uncomfortable companions would disguise the aircraft beneath the trees, secure transportation and rendezvous at the airport.
The second was the sight Cinder had out of the An-2's windscreen. Parked in a nice row was Weiss Schnee's Typhoon, Blake Belladonna's F-14 Tomcat, and worst of all, Ruby Rose's F-16, red trim and flaming rose and all. The Harrier she didn't recognize, but given the markings, it belonged to one of Robyn Hill's Happy Huntresses. Cinder fought down the urge to go toss a hand grenade into Crescent Rose's cockpit or intake, but they couldn't afford to make noise. There was a swarm of mechanics around the F-14, and guards besides.
One of the team stuck his head into the cockpit. "Miss Fall? He's here, ma'am."
"Good. About damn time." Cinder slid out of the pilot's seat, walked down the cabin—the An-2 was a taildragger and sat at an angle—and out the door. The Hound stood there, dressed in a black flight suit; except for the silver eyes and the ears, Cinder thought, he looked all too much like Adam Taurus again. Cinder spared Adam a brief thought. Well, you're fish food now, and your girlfriend's plane is right there, sitting pretty. Stupid ass. You should've stayed with me.
The Hound motioned at two SUVs. "Good evening, Comrade Fall-"
"Might want to knock off the 'comrade' stuff," Cinder interrupted. "That's not very popular among the Poles, and if we're overheard…" She nodded towards the hangars and small control tower, where there were a number of Polish Air Force personnel.
"Right, of course. We were lucky, and procured these two vehicles. The owners are apparently camping."
"Did you kill them?" Cinder didn't care much if he had, but it could raise an alarm.
"No need. They were asleep, so it was very simple to hotwire them and drive them over." The Hound stared past her at the fighters. "Those could be a problem if we have to leave in a hurry." He silently counted the number of guards.
Cinder saw what he was thinking. "Too many people. Besides, if we leave them intact and have to get out of here in a hurry, we could steal them." She fought down another smile. It would be the height of irony and revenge if she stole Ruby's own aircraft. That would burn up that little bitch so bad!
"Wait, I know those aircraft." The Hound cocked his head to one side, as if confused. "Those are Ruby Flight's aircraft, are they not?"
"Yeah," Cinder confirmed sourly. "Weiss Schnee has the Typhoon, Blake Belladonna the F-14, and Ruby Rose has the F-16. The Harrier belongs to someone else; I don't know. Yang Xiao Long flies a F-23." She looked at the aircraft again. "If you're thinking of blowing them up, it would make way too much noise. Believe me, I've been thinking about it for the past thirty minutes."
"Ruby Rose…the silver-eyed girl," the Hound said.
"Unfortunately." Cinder smirked. "You two should hook up and make silver-eyed puppies."
"Silver eyes." The Hound apparently hadn't heard Cinder's jibe. "Where do you think she went?"
"Ruby? Who cares?" Cinder shrugged. "The Schnees have a summer mansion west of town. Weiss probably wanted to visit her mother or something."
The Hound stood there silent for long minutes, to the point where Cinder almost snapped her fingers in front of him. "Silver eyes," he repeated. Then he turned to his team, lounging around the An-2. "Change of plans. We must go to Schnee Manor and get the girl. The silver-eyed one."
The team looked at each other in confusion, because this was not the plan. None of them spoke up—none except for Cinder. She almost yelled at him, then remembered the Poles not that far away. "Are you out of your mind?" Cinder hissed. "That's not the objective; Watts and Polendina are."
"Plans change. My orders are to find and recover all silver-eyed warriors for my Mistress; failing that, I am to kill them. That order supersedes all others." The Hound spoke the words almost robotically, as if he had been forced to memorize them.
Cinder bit back a nasty comment. She remembered Salem's words that her attempt at cloning warriors had been largely failures, and even the Hound only did exactly what he was told, with very little to none of his own initiative. She grabbed his shoulder. "Listen to me. No one on this damn planet wants to see Ruby Rose on a slab more than me." She brushed back the hair, exposing the horror of the left side of her face. "But Watts and Polendina are the objective, and I'm not going to be the one facing your Mistress if you fuck this up!"
"I have my orders." Once more, the Hound was quiet for a time, as if trying to make up his mind; Cinder realized that was exactly what he was trying to do. Like a computer, the Hound was dealing with conflicting orders, and could not resolve the paradox. Oh God, Cinder thought with a silent groan, he's going to stand there all night like that.
"Okay, look," Cinder said, because anything was preferable to sitting here, "even I know it's a bad idea to split the party, but let's do it this way. Watts doesn't have too many guards, so I'll take him—" She pointed to a man who had been her copilot on the flight over "—and four other people. We'll go get Watts and Polendina. If there's too many guards, we'll sit tight and wait for you. Then we'll rendezvous back here at the plane, or we'll use the alternate plan." The alternate plan was to take their ground transportation and head east, to be lost in the refugee traffic, and eventually contact Salem or simply drive to friendly lines. "You take the rest of the team and go get Ruby, or kill her or whatever." And even if you screw up and fail, Cinder thought with satisfaction, at least you might just kill Ruby Rose in the process.
The Hound nodded. "That sounds like a satisfactory plan. Are you sure you don't want to come with us, given your hate for Ruby?"
"No, because like I said, I don't want to piss off Salem more than she already is. Besides, if I see that little silver-eyed cunt, I'm likely to rip her fucking eyes out." Cinder felt her artificial hand clench into a fist involuntarily.
"Mistress Salem would prefer you not do that," the Hound informed her. "Such people are rare. I myself am the clone of one—"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Cinder said dismissively. "You—Lieutenant?"
The man nodded. "Schrage, Comr—er, Miss Fall."
"You're with me. You, you, and especially you." Cinder picked another man wearing a blue beret, a woman with a Dragunov sniper rifle; the last was a bear of a man, with a shaved head and a heroic mustache, who looked so stereotypically Cossack that she was surprised he didn't have a saber. She then poked the Hound in the chest. "Don't fuck this up, because I'm not covering for you with Salem. Got it?"
"Yes, Miss Fall." The Hound quietly organized his team and crowded them into one SUV; Cinder did the same with the other.
Schnee Manor North
Near Zagan, Republic of Poland
4 September 2001
10:45 PM
Ruby walked into the spacious dining hall, which at the moment, seemed even bigger than it was: there was only Weiss, Whitley and Blake present, along with Klein Sieben. When they had arrived, although it was late, Klein had insisted on fixing them dinner. Willow had asked not to be disturbed. "Nora's asleep," Ruby informed them. "She's feeling better, but she's still pretty weak."
Weiss sipped her coffee. "Poor girl." She suppressed a shudder. Nora's arms and legs were swathed in bandages, making her look like a mummy; Klein had quietly told her that, though Nora was healing well enough, her limbs would be horribly scarred for the rest of her life.
"More cake, Miss Belladonna?" Klein asked.
Blake pushed her plate away. "Oh God, no. Three slices of Black Forest cake is two slices too many. Ruby can have the rest."
Ruby sat. "Don't mind if I do." Klein gave her a very generous helping. "Thanks." She took a big forkful and ate it. "Mmm!"
Weiss shook her head. "Blake, don't you wish we had her metabolism?"
Blake nodded. "No kidding. And you'll know she'll be prowling around the kitchen looking for leftovers at 2 AM."
Ruby stuck out her tongue, which was covered in black crumbs and chocolate; Weiss made a nauseated face. The door opened and May strode into the room. "Well, just heard from the airfield, and…and is that Black Forest cake?" She tried not to openly salivate.
Klein beamed. "It is indeed, Miss Marigold. Would you like some? There is still plenty, even accounting for Miss Rose's metabolism."
May hesitated, torn between her taste buds and her waistline. The former won. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'd love some." She blinked and remembered what she was there for. "Anyhow, they've got our birds gassed up, and figured out what was wrong with your Tomcat, Blake."
"Fuel pump?" Blake replied.
"Yeah. Nothing too complicated. They should have it fixed within the hour." She sat down as Klein placed a slice before her, and a cup of coffee. "Anyhow, I talked to Robyn too. No news about Wroclaw; it's on a total lockdown. Something hush-hush; Ace Flight and Winter Schnee are involved."
"Winter?" Whitley raised an eyebrow.
"Don't ask me, mate. I haven't the slightest." May took a bite. "Oh…oh, that's just…my God, Mister Sieben, come back with us to Swidwin. We'll pay you whatever you want if you make this for us every night. Fiona would marry you."
Weiss looked into her coffee in thought. "I wonder what's going on."
"And if Yang's involved, and Pyrrha and Ren," Ruby added.
"Like I said, not a clue." May dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "I hate to be a bitch, but Robyn said no on the whole spending the night thing. She wants us back by 2 AM at the latest. She said get filled up on good food—which I am thoroughly complying with—and grab a nap, then head back."
"Damn," Blake said. "I was looking forward to silk sheets and feather pillows for one night."
"Yeah, well, it's utter chaos up north. I guess the Danes broke, finally. The Jutland Division got knocked back ten kilometers—that's six miles for you colonials—and it's all hands to the pumps to keep them from being pushed into the Baltic. That takes priority over visiting your buddy or your mama."
The tone of May's voice grated on Weiss. It implied that Ruby Flight had come to Zagan on a joyride, just to see how Nora was getting along and check in on Weiss' family. "We didn't just come here for that and you know it," Weiss snapped. "We came here to get Blake's F-14 fixed, and because you were low on fuel. There's no reason to be cruel. Besides, don't you have family you'd like to see every now and then? I seem to recall a Henry Marigold."
May stopped eating and tossed her fork onto the plate. "I had family. Past tense. But I didn't want to be their son and heir, and go into the family business of being rich arseholes. They let me join the RAF, because they said I needed to 'get it out of my system.' And after I got done with my commitment, I was supposed to come home and take over the company—not that we ever did much with it, other than sit around and make money. I said to hell with that, because people needed me. And when the RAF wouldn't allow me to continue on, because my father pressured them not to, and other reasons…well, I told them to go to blazes. I joined Robyn's Huntresses and never looked back. And to the Marigolds, that meant I wasn't their son anymore. And I made damned sure that everyone knew I wasn't their daughter. So fuck 'em. They've got Henry, just like your family has Whitley there. No offense, mate."
"Some taken," Whitley replied with a smile. "Not sure I like being compared with that twit."
May waved if off. "You get what I'm saying."
Ruby clearly didn't. "Wait…you're their son, but…um...you're also their daughter?"
May laughed. "I'm transgender, Ruby." Ruby still looked very confused. "Don't you know what that is?"
Blake and Weiss were grinning. "Ruby led a sheltered life," Weiss explained. "She's from South Carolina." She took a drink of coffee.
"I'm from North Carolina!" Ruby protested. "Dammit, Weiss! I'm not sheltered! I know what a transvestite is!"
Weiss spit her coffee out, May exploded into laughter, and Blake and Whitley soon followed. Klein politely held back, but he was smiling. "Transgender," May said between snorts. "I'll explain it later." She wiped her eyes. "Thanks; I needed the laugh—" The power suddenly went out.
"Oh, that's just rich," Whitley said. He slid his chair and got up.
"First time this has happened?" Weiss asked.
"First time for us. The power grid's been taking a beating, with the demands of the war and all. We're on an independent grid—a direct line to Zagan's coal plant-but I guess it was only a matter of time." Whitley began walking towards the door. "We have a generator near the edge of the estate. If someone can go switch that on, I can use Father's computer to get everything back online-" The doors opened, and Whitley almost walked into his mother. She leaned against the doorjamb, a bottle of vodka in her hands. "Oh. So kind of you to join us, Mother. I thought Weiss and I had destroyed all the liquor in the house, but apparently we were mistaken."
"You missed one." Willow handed it to him. The wrapping was still on it, and intact. "I…I hid this one. And I've been spending the last two hours staring at it." Her hands were shaking. "Get it away from me, Whitley."
May wolfed down the cake in the darkness. "Your own power grid? Must be nice to have perks. Then again, you are the Schnee Company. What don't you own? Power grids, shipping companies, coal mines, hell, you people own Lufthansa."
"Like the Marigolds aren't rolling in the rhino," Whitley shot back.
"People!" Ruby raised her hands. "Let's not get into this, okay." She got up. "Blake, let's you and me go get that generator running." She swigged down her coffee after a quick last bite of cake, then left, the Faunus trailing in her wake.
"I'll go check on Nora," Weiss said. "It's not going to hurt her, but losing power knocked out her diagnostic machines."
"I'll go with you," Klein told her. "Miss Willow, if you wouldn't mind accompanying us?" He turned to May. "Take all the time you need, Miss May. I assume…?" May nodded. "Good. There is more coffee in the pantry." He grabbed the vodka on the way out.
"Thanks." May settled back into her seat and resumed eating. "Transvestite," May snickered. "God, wait until I tell Fiona."
"Power cut, sir." The Hound's lieutenant dropped down next to him in the hedges. "How does it look?"
"Strange," the Hound mused. His eyesight was good enough to see in the dark, so he handed a pair of night vision binoculars to his lieutenant. "There's no guards. There may be some inside, but nothing outside. That's odd."
"Not necessarily, sir. This place has no strategic importance, and with the White Fang pretty much gone, the Schnees have nothing to fear."
"I don't like it," the Hound replied.
"Wolf One, Wolf Three," their radio headsets crackled.
"Go ahead, Wolf Three."
"Two people have left the house through the back door and are moving through the backyard. They seem to be heading towards an outlying structure of some kind."
"Are they armed? Can you identify?"
"No weapons that I can see, Wolf One. Identification…" Wolf Three's voice trailed off. "It appears to be two females—one is a Faunus with black hair, the other is a human with reddish hair."
The Hound tensed. "Blake Belladonna and Ruby Rose." He smiled at his lieutenant. "This may be much easier than we thought—assuming they're not bait." He slid back from the hedge and straightened up. "Wolf Three, hold position—I'm coming to you." He touched the lieutenant's shoulder. "Give me five minutes, then hit the mansion. Unless it's got silver eyes, kill everything in it."
Ruby unlocked the gate surrounding the backup generator—which was inside a thick concrete building. The lines were buried underground, unlike the main line, which was above ground until it reached the estate itself. She then unlocked the main door and stuck the thick key ring in her pocket. "Better not lose this or Whitley will kill me."
They walked into the dark; Ruby cursed as she tripped over a length of cable. She pulled out her cell phone and used the screen to illuminate the room a little. "Okay, okay…there we go." She pulled a lever, and it began humming. And for a minute or two, humming was all it did. "Come on, you piece of shit." Ruby aimed a kick at the console.
Blake chuckled. "Ruby, don't worry. It'll work."
"Yeah, well, nothing else has."
"What's eating you?" Blake asked. "It's not about not knowing what transgender means, is it?"
"No," Ruby seethed, though that still made her feel dumb, and Ruby hated feeling dumb. "It's May's attitude. I get that she's pissed at her family—I can't blame her—but does she have to be so damn rude? And then what's happening up north…" Ruby set the flashlight down on a counter, and leaned against it. "I mean, Blake…we sit there and cover the 1st Armored, and they're advancing for once. We're actually kicking some ass. And then we hear that it doesn't matter, because the Jutland broke. I don't blame them—God, they've been fighting like crazy—but it seems like every time we do something to get one up on Salem, she's two steps ahead of us. So now Ironwood's going to pull the 1st Armored back, and we're back to reacting to Salem instead of actually hurting her! And he just wants to abandon Poland anyway!" Ruby resisted the urge to kick the generator again. "Blake, I've made you guys throw away your careers, and for what? Nora almost gets killed, Oscar gets captured and he's probably dead—" her voice broke on that "—and now Yang, Ren and Pyrrha are God knows where, assuming Winter didn't just arrest them and throw them into the slammer next to Uncle Qrow." She looked at the floor. "I don't know what to do anymore."
Blake leaned against the wall next to her. "Ruby…I know you don't always know what to do, but it's a point in your favor that it's never stopped you from doing something. Maybe it wasn't always the right thing, but you move. You don't just stand there. And you don't run." Blake smiled ruefully. "That's something I've had problems with. I used to be like you, but time, and the White Fang, and Adam…well, it took its toll on me. When I met you, I didn't think girls like you could actually survive, but I was wrong." She put an arm around her friend. "It was a little strange at first, because you were younger than me, but…I'd follow you anywhere, Ruby. No matter what."
Ruby smiled. "Thanks, Blake." A lightbulb above them switched on as the generator came up to full power. "And there we go. Let there be light!" She picked up the phone on the counter and punched in a number. "Whitley? You guys got power? Cool. We'll head on back."
Blake pushed off the wall and walked to the door. To her surprise, it opened just as her hand reached out for it. An oblong object rolled through the gap and stopped when it hit her boot.
Hotel Great Escape
Zagan, Republic of Poland
4 September 2001
11:25 PM Local
Cinder stared at the hotel through her binoculars. "I don't know. What do you think?" She handed the binoculars to Schrage. "There's no guards."
He took a look. "We didn't anticipate there would be—not on a hotel. But something doesn't seem right. There's a good number of cars in the parking lot."
"Tourists?" This from the other woman in the team.
"At the beginning of September in a war zone? Not likely, Daina."
"Refugees, then." Daina was not so easily dissuaded.
"Could be. Especially with the Krauts being so reluctant to let them in." He put the binoculars on the dashboard. "But I agree, Comrade Fall. Watts said he was under heavy guard, but we don't see any evidence of that. And I doubt that the CIA would let Penny Polendina go anywhere without an escort. There should be something."
Cinder looked at the dashboard clock. "Let's give it a few more minutes."
"Agreed. But no reason we can't be proactive." Schrage nodded at Daina and the man in the blue beret. "Daina, you and Stormavik find some good high ground. Stay under cover as much as you can. We're three blocks away, but we have to assume that they're watching the streets." Both nodded as they opened the rear doors and left the vehicle. Daina's Dragunov was in a duffel bag that she threw over her shoulder. She and Stormavik began laughing loudly and joking in Polish, in case anyone was watching, and headed for an apartment building.
"Does this mean I can stretch out?" the big Cossack said.
"Sure, why not?" Cinder replied. There was a sigh of relief from the back seat. "What do they call you again?"
"Horror Show," the big man grinned. "For what I do to my enemies."
"More like what happens whenever he eats beans," Schrage joked. He checked the clock as well. "The Hound should be attacking around now."
Schnee Manor North
11:25 PM Local
Blake instantly recognized the object for what it was, and kicked it back out the door before shoving it shut. "Down!" she shouted at Ruby, and dropped to the floor. The flashbang went off before she even completed the word, blowing the glass out of the window in the door. There was a scream on the other side.
Inside the manor, Weiss, Willow and Klein were behind Whitley in Jacques Schnee's old office. He still held the phone in one hand, and they heard the report of the detonation both through it and from outside. "What was that?" Willow's eyes were huge.
"Weiss! There's someone—look out, Blake—" They heard the phone clatter against something, and there was a lot of yelling before the line went off. Then there was a crash from the front door, and another two whumps, much louder.
"What in the—" Whitley began.
"Flashbangs," Weiss interrupted, remembering Beacon. "What the hell's going on?"
"That's not important." Klein pushed Willow towards the door. "Miss Willow, get to the guest room and stay there—the door is stout. I will be there directly." He reached into a drawer of the desk and gave it a hard jerk. The drawer opened to reveal a pistol, a Walther P.38. "Miss Weiss, take this. Your guns are downstairs in the sitting room with your survival vests. I will retrieve them and Miss May, then we will fall back to the upstairs and hold as long as we can." He looked at Whitley. "Mister Whitley, please get on your cell phone and call the police. It's better than nothing."
"I can do better than that," Whitley said. "When I was in town yesterday, someone said that there were a lot of American troops at the Great Escape Hotel. I'll call them—they'll be much more heavily armed than the cops."
"Very good, Mister Whitley."
Weiss cocked the P.38. "I'll go with you."
"No. Stay with your mother." Klein smiled. "I know ways around this house that not even you do, Miss Weiss. Now go." The portly butler ran out the door.
Blake had thrown her weight against the door, but was thrown backwards when several people hit it at once. She ended up against the wall she and Ruby had just been leaning against, knocking the breath out of her. Ruby, for her part, was still on the floor, next to the generator handle.
The Hound walked through the door behind two of his bigger men. Beyond them, Blake could see a badly burned man being dragged into a ditch. The Hound pointed to Ruby. "Take the girl."
Ruby jumped to her feet and punched one of the men, but it was like hitting a brick wall, and he grabbed her in an arm lock. "What about the other one?" he asked.
The Hound regarded Blake, who was gasping for breath. "She's of no consequence. Kill her." He thumbed the one holding Ruby out of the room, and backed out as the other man drew a pistol. Ruby kicked and flailed to no avail. "Blake!" she shouted. "You motherfucker, let go of me!" The door closed behind them.
Blake sagged to the floor as the man stepped forward. "Please," she begged. "Don't do this." The pistol raised, and Blake reached out a hand, as if to ward off the bullet.
It was a distraction. Her other hand was reaching for the keyring that had fallen out of Ruby's pocket. Blake scooped them up and hurled them at the gunman as she twisted to one side. He instinctively brought up one hand to ward off the keys, as he fired a shot that missed Blake's calf by an inch. She quickly reached up, grabbed the generator handle, and slammed it downwards, plunging the room and the manor grounds back into darkness.
Willow had taken the bottle of vodka with her when she and Weiss retreated to Nora's room; Weiss had been too busy to notice. Whoever was after them was clearing the lower floor rooms; there was the rhythmic thump of flashbangs.
Willow's face was so pale it nearly glowed in the faint light of the room. She grabbed the bottle like a drowning man would a life preserver. "Mother, don't," Weiss said. "I need you sober."
"I…I…" Willow was frozen with fear and indecision. Her trembling fingers twisted the bottle open.
Then they heard screaming from the backyard. Weiss looked out the window and her eyes widened; Ruby was being bodily dragged by two men, kicking and yelling the whole way. Weiss flung open the window, pointed the pistol, and fired. It was a bit far and she was afraid of hitting Ruby, so she deliberately fired wide. It worked: one of the men let go to raise a submachine gun, while the other, dressed in a black jumpsuit, continued to drag Ruby towards the back door of the manor house. Weiss ducked as the submachinegun shattered the window above her.
"I can't do this!" Willow screamed. "I can't do this!" Before Weiss could stop her, she ran out the door and down the hallway. The bottle fell to the floor and began emptying itself across the carpet.
"Mother!" Weiss exclaimed, then flattened herself against the floor as another burst came through the window.
"What th' hell is goin' on?" Nora stirred weakly on her bed, still groggy from the painkillers. "Who's shootin' at us?"
Weiss rolled towards the bed. Luckily, from where it was positioned, there was no way outside fire could hit it. "We're under attack," she told Nora. "Who, I don't know, but they're trying to drag off Ruby. My mother's run off to get drunk."
Nora nodded slowly. "Survival vest. Gun." She pointed at the endtable, and Weiss saw that Nora's survival vest, cut off of her when they'd brought her to the mansion, was sitting there. Weiss quickly grabbed it and saw the holster underneath. "Go…go help Ruby." Nora smiled weakly and held out her hand. "I'm okay."
"All right." Weiss pulled the pistol out of the holster—it was a .38 revolver—and handed it to Nora. "I'll knock twice when the coast is clear, okay?"
"You bet." Nora shooed her out of the room. Weiss quickly kissed her friend on the forehead, then dashed out of the room. Nora painfully reached up, checked the gun was loaded, then pointed it at the door. Something occurred to her, and she giggled. "Never thought I'd go out like Jim Bowie at the Alamo."
The gunman in the generator room blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the sudden darkness. He spun around slowly in a circle, trying to find Blake. He had almost gone completely around when, out of the corner of one eye, he saw a pair of yellow eyes, aglow in the dark. He began to whirl when a cable fell around his neck.
Blake crossed her arms and threw herself backwards on the floor, tightening and twisting the cable. The man fell back onto her, but she brought up a knee into his back, denying him any leverage. She pulled tighter, baring her teeth. The man's hands scrabbled at his neck, there was a gag and crunching noises, and his hands went limp. Blake let go, grabbed his pistol, and shot him in the head.
She opened the door, only to duck back behind it as the second man, the one who had grabbed Ruby, fired a burst towards her. She'd gotten a glimpse of the Hound, who had dragged Ruby through the back door of the manor.
May heard the explosions and knew whoever was assaulting the manor—her first thought was that it was White Fang—wouldn't take long to get to the dining room. Unfortunately, she'd left her pistol with everyone else's, in the sitting room. It might as well be on the moon.
She swallowed one last bite of cake and rolled under the heavy table. When the doors opened and two objects were thrown in the room, May clapped her hands over her ears, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth to equalize the pressure as the flashbangs went off. It still felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. She heard something fall down next to her, and opened her eyes: it was the decorative candleabra that had been the centerpiece of the table, blown off by the concussive wave. No candles were in it.
May saw three people, two men and a woman, enter the room. All three held MP5 submachineguns and were dressed in black jumpsuits, a black hood obscuring their features. As the lead man drew even where she was, she reached out, grabbed his ankles, and pulled. Taken by surprise, he fell to the floor with an oof. She rolled out to grab the fallen man's submachinegun, but saw his female companion, who hesitated at the sight of her sudden appearance. May scythed her legs through the woman's and tripped her as well.
May reached down again for the MP5, but this time was grabbed from behind, twisted around, and shoved to the floor. To her surprise, her assailant looked her directly in the eyes, as if searching for something; whatever he found, he didn't like, because he raised his weapon to fire. May scrabbled for something; her hand closed around the candleabra. She grabbed it and rammed the tines into the man's leg. He howled in pain and fell back.
May rolled over, still trying to get to the MP5, and found it: it was being pointed at her. She slapped it aside and stabbed the candleabra into the man's throat. It wasn't a fatal blow, but it was more than enough to force the gunman to let go. Now finally in the possession of the submachinegun, May rolled over and opened fire, spraying the second man who had attacked her; he flew backwards against the window and slid down, leaving trails of blood behind.
She tried to scramble to her feet, only to be tackled to the floor: she'd forgotten the woman. The MP5 went flying from her grasp. She kicked, missed, and tried to grab the gun, but then had to bring up her hand as the woman stabbed downwards with a knife. May gritted her teeth in pain: the only way to stop the knife's plunge was to grab the blade with her bare hands. It cut deep into her hand. She left off trying to grab the MP5 and instead rammed her thumb into the woman's left eye, and dug into the socket. The woman howled in agony and twisted away; May let go of the knife, gasped as it sliced down her side, but got a hand on the submachinegun. One handed, she stuck it into the woman's side, underneath her armored vest, and pulled the trigger. Bullets scythed through her and the woman, with one final cough of blood, fell lifeless onto May's legs.
That left the last man. Holding a hand to his bleeding throat, he found the woman's gun and began to raise it, even as May, with fighter pilot reflexes, pointed it at him. She pulled the trigger, and was awarded with a click of an empty magazine.
The gunman smiled. "I got you now, bitch," he spat in accented English.
"Well, shit," was the only thing that May could think of to say. A gunshot went off and blood hit her in the face, but to May's surprise, she didn't feel the bite of a bullet, and the blood wasn't hers. The gunman pitched backwards, an ugly red hole where one eye used to be.
"Miss May! Are you quite all right?" May twisted around and saw Klein standing in the door of the kitchen, Ruby's smoking Beretta held in a professional grip.
"Mostly." May threw off the dead woman's body and shakily got to her feet. "That must've been a damned hard culinary school you went to, Mr. Sieben."
Whitley tried to ignore the flashbangs and gunfire as he dialed the number to the Great Escape with one hand, and typed on the computer keyboard with the other. He found the folder where the program for the manor's cameras were—it was labeled Willow's Recipes, which his father wouldn't have been caught dead opening—and switched them on.
Finally whoever was at the Great Escape answered their phone. "Good evening," the hotel worker said.
"Put the head of the American force on the line, now," Whitley ordered. The worker spluttered something, so Whitley shouted, "This is Whitley Schnee, you stupid bastard! I own that hotel, and if you want a job tomorrow, you'll put on the Americans!" He wasn't sure if the Schnees owned the hotel or not.
There was a brief pause, then a new voice came on the line. "This is Mr. Johnson." The voice held a Southern-sounding drawl.
"If you're the head of the American troops there, we need help!" Whitley tried to keep his voice down; it wouldn't be long before whoever was attacking the manor made their way to the second floor. "We're under assault at the Schnee Manor, on the west side of town! Unknown assailants, but I think they're professionals—they're using flashbangs!" He ducked as another burst of gunfire erupted from the backyard. "I have American air force personnel here—Lieutenant Nora Valkyrie and Captains Ruby Rose and Blake Belladonna! And my sister—she's Luftwaffe! And, May, uh…" He couldn't remember May's last name. "Someone from the Happy Huntresses!"
"This better not be a prank." Whitley, exasperated, held the phone in the air. There was the detonation of a flashbang, loud and close enough to shake the room. "Okay, Mr. Schnee," Johnson said. "We're on our way. Hold tight. Should be there in fifteen minutes."
"I don't know if we've got that long!" Whitley exclaimed. The line clicked off, and he stared at the phone for a moment in indignation. Then he saw movement in the cameras.
The manor had a PA system, used when a member of the family needed the staff to come help them with something, or to make an announcement for dinner; there was a microphone on Jacques' desk. Whitley grabbed it and turned it on. "Weiss! To your left!"
Weiss had been waiting at the head of the stairs, behind a balustrade. As the Hound dragged Ruby, still cursing and kicking at him, into the foyer, headed for the front door, Weiss drew a bead and fired. She was a qualified markswoman, but at the last minute, Ruby tugged hard at the Faunus and dragged him out of the line of fire. Weiss' shot missed by inches.
The Hound ducked behind the stairs, pinning Ruby against the wall with one arm while he drew his Skorpion machine pistol with the other. Ruby tried to squirm free, and when that didn't work, she bent over and bit the Hound in the arm. "Ow! Dammit!" the Faunus snarled. He brought the Skorpion down across her skull. Ruby's eyes rolled back and she dropped. He let her subside to the floor. Through the balustrades of the stairs, he could see two more of his team on the other side. One tossed a rope over the railing of a balcony that overlooked the foyer; the hook was covered in fabric and made very little noise, especially over the noise of shooting coming from the backyard and the kitchen. He shimmied up the rope. The other held her position, readying a flashbang.
The PA crackled to life. "Weiss! To your left!"
Weiss didn't question her brother. She whirled and fired the P.38. For a snapshot, it was deadly accurate, catching the man between the eyes and throwing him backwards off the balcony, dead before he hit the first floor.
"Yeah!" Whitley cheered. "Good shot, Weiss!" He hadn't realized the PA was still on. He peered at the cameras, and felt the cold hand of fear grab his stomach. They had all forgotten the fire escape on the south side of the manor, but the assault team had found it. Two of them were coming down the hall, towards the open door to Jacques' office. One slid to a halt and tossed in something.
Whitley dropped behind the desk and burrowed under it as the flashbang went off, the shock knocking the computer at and shuddering the chess pieces off its set. Bullets shot through the air above the desk, tearing into the bookcases behind. "I know you're in here," Whitley heard one of them say. He heard footfalls coming into the office. There was nothing around to use as a weapon, even if he knew how.
Blake found a spare clip for the pistol on the corpse's body and reloaded; the problem was, the person she was engaged with was doing the same thing. Every time she had stuck her head around the corner of the half-opened door, he had fired a three-round burst. Her ears picked out the clack of a magazine being rammed home. From the manor, she could hear a great deal of gunfire. Great, stalemate. How the hell do I get out of here? She glanced down at the corpse. Why didn't this asshole carry a MP5? He was a big man, and he wore an armored vest.
Then she had an idea. Blake shoved the pistol into a pocket of her flight suit, then got under the dead body and pulled it to its feet, ignoring the splatter of blood and brain matter that one of her feet stepped into. Grunting with exertion, she pulled the body over herself, dragged both of them over to the door, and flung it open. Instantly, there was the sound of gunfire, and Blake prayed that her opponent was a good shot and would aim for center mass.
He was. The bullets thumped into the dead man's vest and body. Blake staggered under the dead weight, managed to keep the corpse upright long enough to grab the pistol, then shoved it forward. As it crumpled, her opponent hesitated for a moment, unsure if he had just shot a fellow team member.
Blake didn't hesitate. She raised the pistol, centered it, and pulled the trigger thrice. Two bullets caught him high in the chest; his own vest took those hits, though it staggered him. Blake's third shot caught him in his unarmored forehead.
She ran forward, dragged the MP5 off the second man she'd killed this night, and ran for the manor.
There were two gunmen at the door to Jacques' office. One was covering the hallway leading to the stairs, waiting for Weiss, while his partner stalked Whitley. The first man heard a door open behind him and turned around. He had the split second vision of an older woman with a rifle almost as big as she was, pointed directly at him.
Willow pulled one trigger of the Holland and Holland Royal Double Rifle. The recoil drove her backwards and she screamed in pain as the gun dislocated her shoulder. It did far worse to the gunman: the .577 Nitro Express slug caught him in the throat and tore his head from his body. The second man, hearing the gunshot, turned and ran into the hall, as Willow pulled the second trigger. This shot took his left arm off at the elbow. Both he and Willow fell to the carpet, the man shrieked as blood fountained from the stump of his arm. He tried to grab his weapon; Willow, numbed from the gun's report and the pain radiating from her shoulder, could do nothing but watch.
The door to Nora's room opened. The man on the ground weakly turned, only to die as Nora shot him twice with the revolver. She slumped against the door, in a loose robe, the .38 in one hand and her IV stand in the other. "Hi there, Miss Schnee," she smiled tiredly.
The Hound knew that his people upstairs were dead. "Move!" he shouted at his last remaining operative, grabbed Ruby—who was starting to stir, blood trickling down her face—and moved towards the front door. "Cover me." The woman nodded and stepped in front of him.
The back door opened, and the woman whirled to fire a burst. Blake let out a flurry of cursing as she ducked behind cover again. Then the woman jerked twice and died under the impact of pistol rounds, and dropped to the carpet. The Hound turned and fired the Skorpion, driving Klein back under cover of the dining room doors.
Blake saw an opportunity and leaped through the back door, but the Hound smoothly turned and fired a burst in her direction as well. It was an awkward shot, because Ruby was starting to come around and pawing feebly at him, which saved Blake's life; even so, one bullet lanced through her arm, and Blake gasped in pain.
May charged through the door with a scream. She got off one shot that hit the Hound in the left shoulder, almost spinning him off his feet, but then saw Ruby cradled in one arm. Her finger came off the trigger, afraid to fire again for hitting her. The Hound calmly readjusted his aim, and fired again. May yelled in pain as she was shot through the chest and both legs, slipped, and fell, her forward momentum almost taking her to the Hound's feet.
The Hound knelt and aimed the Skorpion at May's head as Blake and Sieben both came out from behind cover. He looked at them. "I am taking the girl," he snarled. "You will let me go or this one dies."
"You're not taking her anywhere," Blake growled. She ignored the pain in her arm. It was a glancing hit, but it still burned.
"I am taking the girl," the Hound repeated. He let Ruby slump to the floor for a moment, long enough to draw his pistol with his free hand. The bullet wound in his shoulder didn't seem to bother him.
"Ruby!" Weiss had come back to the balcony, the P.38 leveled, but didn't fire for fear of hitting her friend.
The sound of Weiss calling her name penetrated Ruby's woozy mind. She opened her eyes. Everything was blurry, almost double, as she could see the Hound reach out with his pistol, pulling her towards him with his arm. She thought about wrestling the pistol away from him, but it seemed so far away. There was another one that was closer. Ruby blearily moved her head around and saw May Marigold, her eyes filled with pain, reaching a hand out, her Beretta held by the barrel. The Hound hadn't noticed the movement, trying to scoop up Ruby and keep the Skorpion on Sieben, who had taken a step forward.
Ruby felt like she was moving in molasses, but she grabbed the Beretta out of May's hand. She let herself fall sideways to the floor, twisting around as the Hound finally noticed her movement. Pulling the trigger was almost lazy, the shot unaimed, but at this range Ruby couldn't have missed if she tried. The shot took the Hound in the abdomen, exiting from his back. He bent forward, trying to bring the Skorpion around to kill Ruby. "Get…the…gi—"
The Hound's head exploded as Weiss shot him in the back of the head. It snapped backwards, then forwards, coating Ruby's flight suit in blood as he fell onto her. Oddly, the bullet had lodged in his brain, and the Hound's face was untouched as it twisted to stare up at her.
Ruby stared in disbelief, blinking. That's weird, she thought, before the black curtain of unconsciousness dropped back over her vision. He's got silver eyes too.