A/N: So much for finishing this story last week. This chapter and the next took a lot more research than I was accounting for lol T_T

Enjoy~

The eight of them could feel the hair on the back of their necks standing on end, the afternoon sun blazing down onto the lot of them through the dense pines they were slowly wading through. The dirt smudged on their faces was beginning to dry and crack, their cheeks itching something fierce. Lightweight rifles rested in their hands, each finger held behind their trigger, waiting for an unsuspected enemy to breech their stealth mission. A trip that usually took five minutes up the hill towering above the community center suddenly was a twenty minute endeavor, each step oh-so-cautious and aware of just what it was they were setting out to do. This wasn't a typical raid this time around, this was a potential kamikaze.

Kyle stopped the group with a firm hand held back behind him, each of them freezing in place. They could see him looking around the foliage, his nose wrinkling trying to pick up the fresh, showered scent that Rats had the privilege of carrying with them. He nodded sharply when the clear was given and they huddled in around each other. Cartman, Kenny, Stan, Christophe, Token, Craig, Clyde, and Kyle all knew just what came next. They knew that there was an unusually high potential that at least one of them wouldn't be able to carry out the rest of the mission should things go awry. But they pushed that fear down into their toes, knowing full and well that any hint of fear would do nothing more than bring about disaster.

"All right," Kyle said softly, looking at each of them firmly. "Here's where we split, you all know the men you're to aim for, correct?" They all nodded and Kyle gave them as much of a smirk as he could manage in the chalked dirt over his pale features. "Craig, Clyde, and Token, you all need to trek towards to the front of the building, they have three stationed there. Stan and Kenny, you two hit the East side. Cartman, take the West, it's the least suspected to get attacked since all that's there is a dumpster. Think you can take out two on your own?"

"Please, Jewboy," he scoffed quietly. "All I have to do is pretend its you and Rambo himself couldn't outshoot me."

"At this point, go right ahead and tape pictures of me to them if it fucking helps you," he rolled his eyes. "Christophe and I will get the three in the back. Now, the front side will be taken down last, do you understand?" he stared specifically at Craig, Clyde, and Token. They nodded briskly. "Good. Stan, time?"

Stan checked his watch, "3:58," he read.

"All right then, we have seventeen minutes to take these fuckers down and make sure we aren't trailed. The girls, Butters, and Tweek should have gotten the kids that they can over this way by then. Ike and Gregory hopefully will be over at about 4:20 with the documents I need..." he trailed off and looked at the team with a heavy sigh. "Cartman, you're going to start the assault. Get them both down, in two shots, do you understand?"

"I know how to fucking shoot a guy, Jew!" he snapped.

Christophe smacked him on the head, "'e iz your commander and you will respect him, Tubby!"

"Ay!"

"Shut the fuck up and keep your emotions under control, Cartman," Kyle scowled. They didn't have time for this. Three hours before Kyle would have to face the Rats and every second was too precious to waste on pathetic bantering. He looked around at the boys and shook his head. "Guys, I know I say this every fucking time, but this time around, I'm dead serious: We have one shot. We tested the scopes, they all work fine. If you miss, you have absolutely no one to blame but yourselves, do you understand me?"

They all nodded and Clyde spoke up, "Who's after Cartman?"

"Ken and Stan," he nodded at the boys. "Then Christophe and I, then you three follow. Remember: One person shoots at a time. The suppressers will only do so much, and your own targets will realize what's happening, but if we have more than one going off, it's going to alert more Rats."

"What happens if more come?" Token blinked.

"You three plus Stan and Kenny are going to remain in your positions until the kids come along. Any Rats that wander by, snipe them down," he narrowed his brow tightly. "Tophe, Cartman, and I will go from our positions and come to the front. We'll take out any of the Rats on the inside of the building and relinquish it from their hold. If we do this right, we're going to have a lot of firepower on our side. So let's just hope that the kids of the town will listen to the girls and Butters and Tweek and come help us."

"They will, Ky," Kenny nodded. "We'll take these fuckers down."

"Don't get cocky, Ken," he looked over at the blonde. "Remember, we've done that before and we've slipped. This is the time that we need to be on our toes and remember what the end result is: We get our fucking lives back. Count the shots you hear before you make yours, understood? Don't forget that Cartman has two and myself and Tophe have three..." he paused and let out a deep breath. "Good luck, remember to not let them scurry and remember to make sure your guns are on semi-auto, all right? Let's do this."

They nodded and he signaled for them all to split apart. Clyde, Craig and Token made their way up the left side of the hill, the remainder taking the right. Christophe and Kyle walked neck and neck, each pair of calculating, steel-laced eyes focused on their target. Kenny, Stan, and Cartman couldn't help but glance around nervously, just waiting for someone to come along and spoil their plot.

"Do not act like pussies now," Tophe looked back and spit at them in a harsh whisper. "Zhis is ze final conflict, you must be strong."

"Guys, it'll be okay," Kyle reassured them softly, a hint of the old Kyle flashing back through his eyes. They instantly all relaxed at least in the slightest, knowing that seeing that was usually a good sign. Kyle was confident that they could pull it off, otherwise he would have already sauntered up to the Rat leader and handed himself over. He knew they had the ability and the skill, and a part of him flashed back to how Stan said the Rats only got the best of him because of luck. He couldn't help but hope that this time, that luck was on his side.

Cartman stopped off, crouching behind a tree and staring at the West side of the brick and his two targets. He looked up to see Kyle holding up four fingers. Four minutes before the first shot. He mirrored the action to show he understood. Kyle paused and opened his mouth a bit to say something before simply nodding at him curtly. Cartman blinked and nodded back, watching as the remaining four crept away towards their own positions. The heavyweight looked down at his watch, watching the seconds ticking by agonizingly slow.

Stan, Kenny, Kyle, and Christophe continued along the hill, silently and ducking behind trees. Stan vaguely remembered how they once played army on this hill. Himself and Kyle fighting for the US and Cartman and Kenny fighting for Australia in what they called the Wallaby War. It was all fun and ducking around trees making 'pew pew' sounds until Cartman told Kyle he couldn't fight for America because of his 'dirty' Israeli ancestory and they ended up brawling until Cartman couldn't walk for a few days and Kyle was blinded by two black eyes. He couldn't help the small smile on his face at the memory: each of them forming battle cries, each of them 'fighting' for what they believed was 'right'. It was unbelievable how much and how little things had changed.

Kyle and Christophe came to a stop and Stan and Kenny paused with them. Kyle gave them both as reassuring of a smile as he could muster, knowing how much was on the line between them all. Stan smirked, leaning in and whispering, "The wallabies will never take us."

Kyle nearly snorted in laughter, covering his mouth and forcing his chuckles down, waving the two of them off. Kenny winked at the redhead and he nodded, watching the two of them walk off towards their own positioning as he crouched down with Christophe and army crawled to the front of their section behind a large berry bush. Tophe looked at him confusedly, "Wallabies?"

He just shook his head and laughed softly. "The greatest battle to ever take place on this hill," he whispered. "Until today at least," his smile fell and he frowned, kneeling down and placing his rifle up to his shoulder, an itchy trigger finger rested behind the pull, rearing to go. Tophe followed suit, the tension between them unbearably thick. Every ounce of laughter was squeezed down into Kyle's boots, he refused to let one ounce of doubt cross over him as they knelt side-by-side. His own words rang in his ear, to not get cocky. A part of him couldn't help itself however. He knew his team, he knew that they could do it. However, they had never attempted this huge of a plan before because it was such a huge risk. One slight blunder didn't mean just one of them could be lost, it could be every single one of them. He forced down a nervous gulp, his toes cracking in his position. He flickered his eyes over, seeing Christophe grating his lip, obviously craving a cigarette as he tended to do when things started to get rough. Kyle couldn't say he wasn't right beside him in that.

He glanced at his watch by his face. Twenty seconds. His breathing became rapid before he forced it back down. Losing his cool was simply not an option. He ran through his gun training with Stan. Don't forget the recoil. Let the gun become a part of your body. Don't try to stop it from coming back onto you because you'll lose it. Relax and remember, it's stronger than anything on their body, so you'll win. That little tidbit Stan gave him filled him with renewed energy and he counted down the seconds until the assault from Cartman.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Muffled explosions broke in the crisp air, birds scattering through the woods behind them. Two more followed quickly thereafter in succession and Kyle took aim at a confused looking Rat's head through his scope. He quickly shot him down, watching as Christophe easily picked off the two of the man's comrades running to help the fallen Rat up. They held their breath, listening closely. One bang. Two...they nearly froze. Where was the third?! They looked at each other worriedly before flinching as the noise filled the air once again. They sighed in relief, stealing a glance at the bloody mess made at the foot of the building.

"All right, let's go," Kyle ordered, leading the charge down the steep hill. They each looked in opposite directions, guns still held tightly in their grasps. Each step threatened to slip them up and send them tumbling down the hill but they kept themselves taut and upright, speeding down and noticing Cartman making his way down his side as well. Kyle veered towards the side and Tophe followed closely behind, the three of them rendezvousing at the West wall in a puddle of spilled blood. Kyle looked down at the mess of the Rat's heads, grimacing at brain matter still wiggling about in their skulls. He shook himself out of his stupor and led the way, putting his gun on safety and strapped behind his back. He glanced around the corner, seeing two of the Rats downed in their stations, another further away from the building. He smirked. Bastard tried to run for help.

He slowly crept along the side towards the window, looking in through a break in the blinds inside. His green eyes scanned along, finding three men inside, playing cards at a table in the front. No weapons on any of them. Perfect.

He grinned a bit, looking back at the two beside him. "They don't have guns, so we're using knives. We don't wanna go deaf with the acoustics in there," he whispered. They nodded, placing their own rifles on safety and grabbing their hunting knives from their holsters. Kyle grabbed his own, a part of him sentimentally upset that it wasn't one of the ones he used to take down any of his recent victims. But it was no matter. This one was fresh and new, it was about to get its first taste of what it was capable of. He glanced again at the men, judging their sizes a bit for ease. "All right, I'll get the smallest guy in the middle," he whispered. "Cartman, you take the bigger one on the left, and Tophe you get the other one on the right, got it?"

"Got it," they said together.

He made way to the front door, standing up and glancing to see Craig's group and Stan and Kenny watching the area for strays. He nodded approvingly before placing his hand on the door handle and glancing at his counterparts. He counted down with the fingers on the handle, slamming it open and rushing inside, the two of them close behind.

The three Rats looked up and over in shock, seeing nothing but a furious redhead and two brunettes charging at them with set glares on their faces. Kyle was the first to make contact with his victim, slamming into him and sending him through the card table, the cheap wood splintering and falling down the middle at the force of their weights. Kyle snarled, that same bloodlust back in his emerald stare as he plunged his knife down into an unprotected throat.

Christophe easily grabbed his man and whirled him around, slashing through a tanned neck and watching him bleed out with a demented, hungry grin. Cartman's target was currently being held by his hair, a good few inches shorter than the heavyweight. Cartman stabbed without hesitation into the man's breastbone, grunting at the effort to maneuver his knife upwards through the body's stronghold. He finally managed to make it sail up towards his chin as smooth as butter, dropping him to the ground.

The three boys stood together, watching satisfactorily as each of their victims choked on a mess of blood and sobs. "Like stuck pigs," Christophe muttered as they all finally fell still, whipping out a cigarette and handing Kyle one as well. He lit them up and they all let out heavy sighs of relief. Kyle smiled a bit, realizing how easy that all had been, how his nerves had tried to work up about this mission for nothing.

That thought quickly melted away as an angry yell broke out from behind him and a strong arm grabbed around his chest, a knife suddenly at his throat.

"Drop your weapons and I won't slash up Red here," the Rat snarled.

"Sheet," Christophe muttered, dropping his knife and slowly placing his rifle on the ground along with Cartman. They held up their hands and backed away from the two of them, watching Kyle carefully.

"Leggo!" Kyle yelled, backing his head away from the blade on his neck.

The man shook him, "You drop yours, too, Red," he spat. He paused. "Wait. You're that fuckin' kid the Commander wants so much," he scoffed in realization. "Oh, I'm gonna get a nice promotion for bringing your scrawny ass back, you little fucker."

Kyle growled, letting his left hand fly up and back with his cigarette, slamming it into the soldier's exposed eye. The man let out a blood-curdling scream, losing his grip on Kyle. The redhead pivoted around and let his own blade fly into his throat, watching the man drop to his knees, pulling the knife out and throwing it to the side. He screamed all he could manage, his hands wrapping around his throat to stop the blood flow. Kyle's eyes widened, backing up from him, noticing his injured eye was practically a waterfall of tears, a hazel iris and pupil already looking scorched and milky surrounded by a fierce pink. The three of them stared in awe as the man fell to his side, convulsing and trying to fight his way up.

"Jesus Christ," Kyle muttered, grabbing Cartman's knife from the ground and walking over, kneeling next to the man. The Rat screeched at him angrily, reaching up and wrapping his fingers through Kyle's curls. The boy yelped, grabbing the man's hair back and slashing through his jugular as quickly and cleanly as he could manage. After a few more moments of convulsions, Kyle felt the tension of his roots go slack, a massive hand sliding off his head and falling limply onto the ground.

Christophe helped him to his feet and brushed him off, "Kyle, are you okay?" he asked seriously.

He nodded, placing his hand on his throat, noticing he had a thin slice in the skin from the blade. He sighed and shook his head, looking around the full warehouse. "Wow," he murmured, stepping over the bodies of the Rats and gazing at the arsenal before them. One side filled with supplies to keep the Rats happy: Food and blankets, books and hygiene supplies. The other side filled with what they wanted most: Weapons of all shapes and sizes. Kyle grinned wildly, a glint passing through his eyes, his knowledge he'd picked up from a stolen weapons guidebook from the Rats years ago rearing its head once again as he headed over to a crate labeled '5.56 mm rounds, magazine (30 rd)'. "Awesome," he nodded approvingly. "Sparky is going to be very happy, this is an upgrade from his pathetic 20 round life," he chuckled.

"What else we got?" Cartman asked, glancing around.

Kyle made his way through the arsenal, licking his lips hungrily. "Looks like we have some M9 Bayonets, a couple M500's...a shit ton of Berettas, holy shit," he gaped, staring at the huge collection of handguns against the wall.

"We 'ave a few different grenades over 'ere!" Christophe called out, holding a couple up for Kyle to see.

Kyle squinted, walking over and looking at them closely. "Well...this one with the pin is just a M67," he muttered. "But this..." he took the other one and held it carefully. "Holy shit, this is a fucking 433," he gaped. "Which means..." he handed it back over to Christophe gently and went through the section Christophe had found them in, sorting through metal and plastic alike. "Aha!" he cried out joyously, snaring two long guns out of the chaos, one looking like a wonky javelin and the other seated with a large chamber on its underside.

"Are those grenade launchers?" Cartman gaped.

Kyle nodded wildly, "An LMT Rail mounted for the one-hitters," he held it up pointedly. "And this little guy is the M32, we can shoot six grenades at those fuckers without so much as breaking a sweat..." he paused, looking at it with a cocked head.

"What iz wrong?" Tophe asked concernedly.

"Well...everything else in this room is Army-issued," he frowned, thinking over his weapons guide carefully. "But the M32...it's part of the Marine Corps. They're the only ones with the permission to use it for military conflict from the US."

"So?" Cartman cocked his brow.

"So...the commander told me they were a special sect of the government," he squinted quizzically. "I figured maybe they were just part of the army. But how the hell are they able to snag weapons from two branches of the military? That's not how it works...this doesn't make any sense."

"Maybe an exception was made?" Christophe shrugged.

"Maybe..." he mused, setting the launchers against a shelf and sighing. He looked around the room and nodded. "Either way, we have plenty of weapons, a ton of magazines, and first aid kits galore over there," he pointed towards the other end of the building. "We can fucking take these assholes down if we do this correctly."

"And just how is correctly?" Cartman questioned, crossing his arms. "You really need to start filling us in beforehand, Jewboy."

"Every time I did that in the past, you all got orders mixed up," he countered. "We take this one step at a time and we can more easily come out ahead."

"'e iz right," Tophe nodded. He glanced down at his watch, "Eet is 4:14."

"Excellent," Kyle grinned. He walked up towards the front of the building and peeked out the window, seeing a crowd heading towards the center. "Looks like they recruited pretty well," he nodded in approval. He opened the doors, Stan and Kenny heading from their position to meet him at the front.

"Tweek ran up and told us they got every kid!" Ken said excitedly.

"One problem, though," Stan said awkwardly.

The pure glee in Kyle's chest died at his tone. He knew his best friend way too well to let that slip by. "What?"

"They...uh...they don't know why they're here," he winced.

"Aw fuck," Kyle scoffed. "Well, since we have them all, maybe we can convince them of what we need, hm?" The three of them split to the sides, letting kids file in. Stan and Kenny watched Kyle scanning over each of them, knowing that he was mentally preparing groups to split them all into for whatever he had knocking around his mind.

"You think we can?" Kenny asked vaguely over the heads of the kids. Kyle nodded, a gleam in his eye. The two standing opposite of him found comfort in that gleam, knowing that his wheels were turning.

They watched for awhile until the line came to an end, Bebe, Wendy, Rebecca, Butters, and Tweek bringing up the rear. "Number?" Kyle asked.

"About 540," Wendy informed him.

Kyle sighed, shaking his head. "Jesus, they decimated our numbers. It used to be well over 1,500..." he bit his lip, looking at the group inside. "Looks like most of them are 12 and older?"

Bebe nodded, "A few straggling younger kids here and there but yes."

"Well that gives us somewhat of an advantage I guess," he muttered. He glanced up to Clyde, Craig, and Token, signaling for them to stay in their positions before walking into the building with the other following close behind. They could all hear the confused murmurings of the children, the sounds of awe at the fully stocked facility.

Kyle heaved a heavy sigh, making his way through the crowd to the front of the room. He walked over to a table littered with papers and pushed them aside, hopping onto the sturdy wood and glancing around, taking notice of all that he could. These kids looked weak. Weak, tired, and hungry. He frowned. This was definitely a long shot. His head shot up at the sound of the door opening and closing from Stan and Kenny, Ike and Gregory quickly maneuvering their way towards him. They thrust up a wad of papers to him and he grinned, "Thanks you two. There was no way in hell I could have carried this shit on the field," he chuckled. He opened his blueprints and scanned over them, nodding to himself as they watched in interest.

"You got a plan worked out, Ky?" Ike asked.

He shrugged, "As good of one as any of us can throw out now." He smiled at him sadly before looking up, motioning at Stan and Ken to stay at the door as lookouts. Christophe and Cartman came to the other side of him, standing next to Ike and Gregory on the floor and looking out at the crowd.

"Do you z'hink we 'ave a chance, Kyle?" Tophe murmured.

"There's always a chance," he said firmly before looking back out at the crowd. "Cartman, do that annoying whistle thing you can do," he directed.

Cartman rolled his eyes, placing two fingers in his mouth and letting out an ear-shrilling whistle. All the kids groaned and looked towards the front of the room, directing their attention to the lanky redhead towering above them.

"Kids, you know us," Kyle started loudly, gesturing to his team. "We are the resistance team who's been fighting against the Rats these last two years, the only reason that any of you here have been saved from their gunfire. Well now, we need your help." He paused, watching faces contorting in confusion and worry. "The Rats are planning a full-out cleansing of South Park," he said firmly. "Remember how our parents, older and younger siblings, our aunts, uncles, grandparents, how everyone was dropping one by one?" He saw a few nods and pressed on, "Well now they're targeting us. It's not going to be your parents this time, it's going to be your best friend. It's going to be your girlfriend or boyfriend. Guys, it's going to be all of you."

"How do you know?" a kid spoke up from the front, crossing his arms and glaring at the boy before him.

"Because I was captured by the Rats," he glowered. "I was told their plans. They're not bluffing. We've all watched them shooting down kids for fun. Now they want to wipe us all out. They've already taken nearly 1,000 of us kids down, well I say we don't give them one more!"

"What can we do?" an older girl raised her brow.

"We fight," he set his eyes firmly. "Look around you," he gestured out around the facility. "We have the weapons, we have the numbers. We outnumber those bastards by nearly 250 people. If we work together, we can take them down, we can stop this war and we can tear down that fucking wall that's kept us like prisoners for two years!"

Another boy stepped forward skeptically, "You've been fighting them for two years, why are they just now wanting to do this?"

"Kid, it's a long fucking story," he growled. "And we don't have time for me to tell you a goddamn epic. I need you to listen to me and listen to me very carefully," he paused and his lips curled in frustration. "You have two choices here and only two: Either you die a coward, or you fight. You fucking stand by us and fight and have a chance to get out into the world once again. If you don't, then you're going to be shot down just like your parents."

The kids all looked around at each other confusedly, soft mutterings echoing around the room. "But we've never fought!" a voice cried out from the crowd.

Kyle glanced at his watch and frowned. "We have two and a half hours to show you how to properly use your weapons. It won't be much, but it's what we have as of now." He saw the skepticism still reeling on their faces and he glanced past the crowd to Stan and Kenny. They both motioned for him to keep going and his eyes sparked a bit.

"You know..." he started. "I...learned something today," he bit his lip, looking to see he caught their attention once more. He certainly hadn't been on this end of that line in a long time, but with those words, it came flowing back to him, memories of his childhood flashing before him in a picturesque song. "I learned that the needs of the many indeed outweigh the needs of the few. However, there's times when the needs of the many can only thrive when that few stand up for their cause and lead the masses into the thrall. I am the few, and I am telling you right now that if you listen to me, I will get you out of here. I will make sure that your parents look down on you with fucking pride because you will have fought tooth and nail to get out, to succeed where they failed. I learned today that none of us can fight this battle alone, as is true with so many battles we face in our lives. We're fucking South Park and those bastards have no fucking idea just what it is our town is capable of! So I ask you to realize that only with our help can we become what we once were, can we stand up and take back our town, and can we end a war that's spiraled so far out of our control. Any of you brave enough to realize our cause will lead you to the outside of that wall, stay and fight with us. Any of you that still believe that the coward's way out if the best route, then I suggest you march your fucking ass out of here and stand in front of the firing squad without us. Now, who the fuck is with me?!" he shouted.

The kids all seemed to spark to life at once, erupting in a cheer that the group had heard from the adults of their lives on so many occasions. Kyle looked over the crowd with a smirk, leaning down as Ike pulled on his pant leg.

"The fuck is up with this town and its love of speeches?" Ike snorted.

Kyle shrugged and chuckled, ruffling his dark hair. "Must be a hereditary thing." He straightened back up, winking at Stan and Kenny who were beaming proudly across the way. He held up his hands to quiet the kids down and his face fell back into its steely gaze. "All right," he grabbed his blueprint from his waistband and looked over the crowd. "Here's the rules for this fight:" he said firmly. "One, you are to listen to me without question, do you understand? I don't have time to get into any debates with you. I know the Rats better than they do half the time and we're going to take advantage of that. Two: Mercy is not an option. I don't give a fuck if you find a Rat that's legless and has fucking lung cancer and is hooked up to an oxygen tank. You shoot that fucker where he sits and make damn sure he doesn't hobble back up. This isn't a mission just to run past them, we're going to wipe them out, is that clear?" he watched heads nodding briskly in unison and nodded back curtly. "Good."

He glanced at his watch again and growled, knowing every second was precious at that point. He had to work quickly. "I'm going to split you into groups," he announced. "Anyone from the ages of seven to nine, go over to the right side of the room by the medical supplies," he pointed. "Wendy, Bebe, and Rebecca, you're going to teach them how to be the med team on the field." The girls all nodded, heading over to the area. He watched as a group of about fifty made their way over with them. "Okay, ages 10 through 12 I want you over in the weaponry by the bayonets," he gestured. "Christophe, I want you to show them how to slash a man in the back of the knees," he directed.

Tophe grinned devilishly, "Brutal, I love eet," he winked. "Come, kids. We shall put your small bodies to use, oui?"

"Find a better way to phrase that, Tophe," Kyle scoffed a bit before turning back to the crowd. "Ages 13 to 15, go over to that wall of handguns," he nodded. "Ken!" he called out to the back. "Show them how to load the magazines and shoot..." he paused. "Make sure that the damn magazines are empty before you actually pull the trigger this time!"

Kenny pouted. "I know my goddamn gun safety, Kyle. You gave me a fuckin' quiz," he winked playfully. "All righty, kids. Let's show ya how to be badass."

"This isn't fucking 'Die Hard', Dickhole!" he lectured. "Show them how to conserve!" He shook his head as Kenny waved dismissively. "Okay, 16 through 17..." he bit his lip. "Actually, sixteen year olds, head over to that section of grenades," Kyle directed. "Seventeen I want you over with the M500 shotguns. Any kids remaining are to go to the assault rifles," he looked up at his best friend. "Stan, can you handle teaching two guns at once?"

"No problem," he smirked.

"Sparky's got some 30 round magazines in a crate," he smiled. "We're playing heavy this time around."

"Sweet," Stan nodded approvingly.

"All right, teach the M16s and the M500s," he nodded, watching Stan saunter off to his sections.

He looked down at Cartman left staring at him expectantly and sighed. "Cartman, I'm so going to regret this, but the grenade launcher is yours."

Amber eyes burst with excitement. "Really?!" he squeaked before coughing and nodding. "Yeah, yeah I figured. Only I with my masterful aim could-"

"Save it," he bit. He hopped off the table and stood in front of him, a domineering force against him despite being nearly five inches shorter and about half the size of the boy. "Look, you're going to teach the sixteen year olds grenade safety, all right?" he quirked his brow. "I'll give you a rundown of how the launcher works. Make damn sure you handle those fuckers with care or you'll kill us all in here, capiche?"

He scoffed, "I think I know how to be careful, Jewrat."

He narrowed his eyes. "Don't call me a fucking Jewrat," he hissed. "You wanna call me Jewboy or something go right the fuck ahead but don't you attach that bullshit onto me."

Cartman raised his hands defensively, "Sorry, Princess, Jesus." He backed away slowly from the fiery redhead and made his way towards his own squadron.

Kyle sighed in aggravation and threw his prints on the table, scanning over them with Gregory and Ike, Tweek and Butters watching curiously. "What do we do now, Kyle?" Gregory asked softly.

"I plan out where each team is going to be stationed, find a way to concoct how to get all the Rats in one place for the final assault..." he paused and sighed, his eyes drooping tiredly. "And I get myself ready for my own assignment."

"Your assignment?" Ike cocked his brow.

He looked at his little brother and smiled sadly, ruffling his hair once more. "I have to get ready for a business meeting."

A/N: AGH so much planning my head hurts.

Next time is the battle to end all battles. Or something. It's a fight anyway.

Thanks for R&Ring!