Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY, it belongs to Rooster Teeth.
Chapter Three: Aggressive Negotiating
"This is Watchdog to Snowbird. All clear on the ground approach to the pass."
"Acknowledged, Watchdog," the crisp, collected voice of his superior came over the radio communications suite, "Stay vigilant."
"As ever, Ma'am," Private Douglas turned off the communications and allowed himself to lean back into his chair, running a hand through his trimmed, black hair as he monitored the camera feeds covering practically every possible area of approach for the train. Not a bad assignment, he thought to himself, Considering our unit wasn't originally pegged for this.
Unit Five were an expeditionary force – an armed force expected to be able to operate for extended periods away from the field. To this end, they utilised equipment not often found in other Atlesian units, simple and rugged short-wave radio communicators, portable power generation, maintenance and logistical tools, once they had even been dispatched with mining and refining equipment to attempt to obtain their own Dust from an abandoned mine near an objective.
"I still don't get it," he glanced to the side at his partner, Private Teal, as she voiced the question most of their unit had been wondering since their escort mission began, "Why do they need us to guard the tin-men? There's nothing that can survive near this stretch of rail but Grimm, and their interest in the finest Atlesian Military Tech tends to end once it stops shooting them in the face."
He shrugged. "Who knows? I've heard some pretty crazy stories about what's been going on in Vale these days. Gang wars at the Docks, White Fang everywhere, there was even this one crazy report about giant elemental spirits going at it near some old warehouses, but nobody seems to believe that one."
"Okay, but the last bit of bullshit aside, it still doesn't really justify why they'd call us in," Teal countered, "A regular guard detachment could have kept thieves and the White Fang away."
"Like I said," Douglas agreed, leaning his head back on his interlinked hands, "Who knows? I'm not going to complain though. This is an easy assignment."
Teal's face turned sour. "If you keep tempting fate like that, it won't stay easy for long."
"Not that superstition crap again," Douglas rolled his eyes, "How many times have I said something like that on a mission, only for absolutely nothing to go wrong? You think you'd learn by now."
"Watchdog," both Privates straightened up as the comms crackled into life again. "We are entering the pass. No hostiles in the sky, is there any movement on the ground?"
"Negative, Snowbird," Teal reported promptly, "We have no – wait," she blinked, "We have a sighting. An Ursa, at the treeline to our East. Looks to be a loner, probably just curious."
"Acknowledged," Snowbird responded, "Keep an-"
"Wait," Douglas leaned forward as he spotted movement on several other screens, "We've got more movement. Ursa again. And there's a Beowolf. What's going on?"
Snowbird was silent for a moment. "Watchdog, we have contacts approaching by air. Larger contacts match the radar profile of Giant Nevermores, smaller contacts seem to be Griffins."
"More Ursa and Beowolves showing up on the ground," Teal began looking concerned, "We've got an Alpha here as well – no, two."
"It's an attack," Snowbird barked over the comms, "Sound the alert and activate the automated defences! Mechanised units are to funnel the enemy into kill zones for the turrets, infantry are to stay on the train and repel boarders! I will handle the enemy in the air and provide close-in air support where possible."
Private Teal opened up comms for the entire convoy. "All forces, be aware, we are facing a significant and immediate Grimm attack. Orders are as follows..."
"Why here?" Private Douglas muttered, "This pass is the perfect ambush location, it offers significant cover from the tree lines and the cliffs hide incoming aerial units from fire until they are close enough to cause problems, it's why we were so alert," he frowned, observing on the cameras as men and women of Atlesian Army Unit Five dug in and readied themselves for a fight, "This was the area where any smart enemy would have hit us."
Teal muted the comms, orders passed along, and turned to him. "So what's your point?"
"Well," he clenched his fist, "Since when have the Grimm ever fought smart?"
She blinked, and her face went pale. "Oh. Sweet fucking Maiden of Summ-"
Her curse was cut off as the train jerked heavily, throwing them both out of their chairs and into their desks with a heavy crash.
Douglas stumbled to his feet first, glancing at the screens to see what had forced the train to slam the emergency brakes. All across the screens, he could see troopers similarly knocked down desperately trying to get back into position as the horde of Grimm began to approach from the treelines. In response, beams of light lanced out from the train's on-board turrets, lashing into the mob of Ursa, Creeps and Beowolves and carving through several at a time.
He glanced at the front-facing cameras, and felt his heart sink even more. An enormous, black, quadrupedal creature moved calmly up the track toward the train, briefly raising its head and massive trunk to let loose a sound that seemed to shake the air; the Trumpet from Hell, as it was nicknamed in the forces, though one trooper was infamously on record as calling it 'the wrong side of bed song', because hearing it was the precursor to a very, very bad day.
Teal slammed on the comms first. "Goliath to the front of the train, I repeat, Goliath to the front of the train!"
Inside her ship, the Special Operative attached to Unit Five stood up. "Take command of the Snowbird," she ordered the co-pilot, "Hover above the train, focus the cannons on the Goliath."
"What about you?"
Winter Schnee observed the quickly opening battlefield coolly. The Atlesian soldiers were back in defensive positions on the train, disciplined streams of fire lashing out of specifically designed firing windows into the oncoming horde of Grimm. The turrets were proving to be worth their weight in gold, succeeding in keeping the horde at bay, but were mounted on top of the train with little cover.
A roaring noise directed her attention to the rear of the train, where a squadron of light vehicles was rushing forward, swivel-mounted automatic turrets tearing into Grimm with lethal effect. The Grimm, of course, reacted, moving to follow the vehicles. It was a tactic used since before living memory, using mobile units to lure Grimm into the scopes of your most powerful guns.
"The turrets need to be protected," Winter declared, "If those flyers make it here, they'll tear them apart. I'll take care of that," she pressed a button on her scroll, and the side door to the Snowbird opened. Without a moment of hesitation, Winter leaped out into the world.
For a moment, she felt the pure exhilaration of freefall – the wind blowing through her hair as air resistance futilely tried to slow her descent, the ground looming larger and larger… still focused, a large glyph shone into life underneath her. From the glyph, a great shape began to bloom outward, borne from a blazing white light. Her feet landed on a heavily-feathered torso, as great wings formed out at either side. A large, feathered tail sprung into being behind her, while large claws hung underneath, and a sharp beaked, four-eyed head came into being at the front of the creature.
She raised a hand, and at the last moment, the white Giant Nevermore pulled out of the dive it had formed into, Winter crouching low to keep her balance as the massive bird pulled up into the air above the mass of enemies. Not missing a chance to get a shot in, with a flap of its huge wings, a barrage of sharp feathers rained down upon the Grimm like a hail of spears, skewering dozens of them.
She carefully hid a smirk as she heard the cheers of her soldiers, focusing on the flock of flying enemies looming ever closer as she gained altitude and velocity.
From this distance, she could see at least three Giant Nevermores and at least two dozen or so Griffins – a formidable threat to any Atlesian unit not equipped for anti-flyer work.
Fortunately, that was why she was here. She raised her hand.
Runes and symbols, older than civilisation, drew themselves into existence, forming a circular glyph that hovered in front of her outstretched palm. Hand wrapping around the hilt of her sword, she drew the blade, slicing through the Glyph in one, smooth motion.
The circular shape fractured into dozens of white, glowing shards, slowly floating away from one another – she clenched the fist of her free hand, and their separation stopped in its tracks.
Finally, she punched her arm out, opening her hand and directing her power.
The shards rocketed forward toward the flock of Grimm, a horizontal rain of white, blazing death. The barrage pelted their hides and slammed into their bodies. Several of the Griffins fell out of the sky, their disintegrating bodies hurtling toward the ground in free-fall, while she saw the Nevermore nearest the front falter and stumble in the air, costing it valuable moments in which to pull itself together.
Moments she would capitalise on. With a wave of her blade, her own avian summon put on a burst of speed, hurtling toward the scattered enemy formation. She braced herself as it bore down on the faltering enemy.
With a crunch, white giant slammed into black, and her Nevermore tore into its floundering prey with unbridled ferocity. The hapless creature was not used to defending itself from an enemy of similar size, and her own creation soon caught the advantage in the battle.
Winter did not waste time watching. She waved a hand, and suddenly, dozens of white glyphs appeared in the air around what was now an extraordinary, primal dogfight.
She leapt from the back of her own Nevermore, leaving it to finish off its counterpart, and felt her feet land on the nearest glyph. A quick slash to her left, and the Griffon attempting to blindside her found itself missing everything from the top jaw upward.
Not sparing the defeated enemy a glance, she shot off like a bullet toward the next glyph. Another Griffin had placed itself between Winter and her objective – the creature had no time to react as her sword carved it in half.
She sprang between one, two, three glyphs, appearing, upside down and foot raised above a third Griffin. With a shout of exertion, Winter slammed her foot down with a thundering kick, the blow impacting the back of the Grimm with the thunderous boom that always accompanied a blow breaking the sound barrier before it struck home. No set of wings on Remnant could have kept a creature the size and strength of the Griffin in the air after taking such a hit from above, and it hurtled down – directly into the Giant Nevermore passing underneath. Bird and Beast screeched and roared as they descended to the ground like a tumbling, feathered meteor, before they landed with a thunderous impact a moment later, killing them both.
Winter landed neatly on another Glyph platform – and instantly pushed off from it as a giant, black feather flew through the position she had formerly occupied. Several dozen of it's fellows followed it. The Special Operative was a silver-white blur as she darted from platform to platform, dodging the massive, sword-sharp projectiles that could slice a grown man in half and tear through vehicle-grade armour with ease.
She glanced at her attacker. The last of the three Giant Nevermores was pulling itself up to launch another feather barrage with a flap of its wings. This time, she saw it coming.
Forming another, large glyph, countless miniature, white birds began to circle her body. Pushing a hand out toward the Nevermore, her birds spread out and flew at the creature, forming a wall of white, flapping wings.
The volley of black feathers met her birds head-on, slicing through the first resistance they met with ease, the fallen birds popping in a cloud of white vapour. But the flock was too thick – the feathers losing momentum as they went through more and more of her creations. Soon enough, a new cloud formed in the sky as white vapour covered the hundred-meter space between Human and Grimm.
The Nevermore was not fast enough to catch Winter as she flew out of the smoke and slammed into its neck. In an instant, her blade stabbed upward, piercing through its throat, up into its head, killing it instantly.
She spared her own creation another glance, only to see another feather barrage, this one bright white instead of pitch black, tearing into the remaining Griffins and slicing them into figurative ribbons, her Nevermore's counterpart already disintegrating as it fell from the sky.
Using the rapidly-disappearing body of her most recent kill as a platform, she jumped through the air, landing neatly on the back of her flyer. She channelled her power into the bird even as she directed it back toward the battle on the ground, the gouges and cuts it had suffered in the short brawl mending themselves as it dove toward the train with an ear-splitting screech.
She focused her attention on the most problematic target: the Goliath. The enormous Grimm was being hammered by the Snowbird – but while her ship had powerful armaments for its size, it wasn't enough to stop it entirely, and the beast was slowly ploughing through the beams toward the train.
With a gesture, her Nevermore dropped into a dive, moving toward the Goliath to pepper it from the air.
At least, that had been the plan.
Her eyes widened as she saw the great beast raise it's head toward her, the trunk unfurling, before it let loose with a devastating, roaring trumpet that eclipsed the first in volume. A literal wave of pure sound rushed toward her creation as Winter practically threw herself from the bird – which did not last a second as the sonic attack crashed into it, falling apart into a cloud of fine, white mist.
Forming more glyph platforms down toward the ground, Winter landed neatly on the first, before she jumped from glyph to glyph to land safely on the field, focused on the gigantic Grimm.
The distinctive sound of dropships in flight distracted her slightly. Had there been reinforcements in the area? She hadn't remembered any forces operating near the rail line when she read the mission briefs. She glanced back toward the train.
And blinked, in surprise.
She idly considered the multitude of questions she now had. The Goliath stomped toward her.
'How on Remnant did the White Fang manage to point a large force of Grimm at the train with such effective timing?' Luring the Grimm into a force of your enemies had been tried many times in war, but the creatures were utterly unreliable and were just as likely to attack your forces than the opponents, and yet a terrorist group had seemingly succeeded where every military in Remnant's history had failed.
She leaped into the air to avoid the sweeping trunk of the monster.
'How did they know the timetable for the train? And why were the White Fang trying to hijack it? Were they aware of the prototypes?'
Landing on her feet, she scowled as she considered the possibility of the Atlesian military having leaks. There was, however, an efficient way to find out, and hopefully start plugging those leaks.
"This is Special Operative Schnee to Snowbird," she communicated, "Get a wide-range transmission to all Atlesian forces in the field: take prisoners, wherever possible!"
She eyed the situation on the train – Atlas troops were successfully holding the Grimm at bay for now, but she needed to handle the Goliath right now unless she wanted that to change. Turning back to the Grimm, she waved a hand, and dozens of glyph platforms surrounded the monster.
She then made another gesture, and a large, golden glyph, not unlike a ticking clock, formed underneath her feet, encompassing her with a subtle, golden glow.
Time dilation was one of the most powerful parts of the Schnee semblance, and Haste was one of the most common uses. Under the effects of Haste, a fighter who was merely quick could seem like a blur, even to opponents with hunter training or higher-level Grimm.
Someone on Winter's level, however, who was that quick anyway – well, suffice to say, the effect became even more pronounced.
The world slowed down, the formerly frantic sounds of battle becoming a dull and plodding backdrop. She took a step forward, then another. The Goliath was focused on her. She saw it raising it's trunk to attack again, all too slow.
She flashed forward, attacking at full speed, her blade carving a gouge out of the Goliath's side as she jumped to her first glyph. Her second attack sliced the back of the left rear leg at the tendons, her third the right rear leg. Her third and fourth attacks carved through the front legs. She saw the Goliath's body begin to slowly crumple as damaged limbs were rendered unable to carry weight. Her fifth attack sliced neatly through the trunk at the base, severing it from the monster's face.
Ten seconds. Less than a second of real-time.
It wasn't done yet. She observed it desperately trying to let loose with the sonic attack it had initially been targeting her with, in an attempt to damage something, anything, before it fell. She formed a platform beneath its head, leaping over toward it.
Landing on the glyph, she crouched low, before launching herself up with a savagely powerful upwards kick that slammed into the Goliath's lower jaw, snapping the beast's mouth shut just as the shockwave was about to leave it.
Winter gritted her teeth as she felt the pressure trying to force the jaw open, but she held firm, and the Goliath's body experienced the unfortunate sensation of an expanding shockwave powerful enough to level trains being trapped inside of it with the only exit point being an open wound at the front of the face. The creature's head practically exploded outward, the sonic shockwave blasting off harmlessly into the sky as the Special Operative was blasted down into the ground.
Winter saw and heard the effect of Haste finish before she felt it. The world sped back up, and the sounds of gunfire, shouting and explosions came rushing back as the body of the now-dead Goliath, head utterly ruined and already beginning to vanish, fell with a thud audible even over all the other noises assaulting her ears once more.
She got to her feet, taking a moment to catch her breath, before she turned back to the train. The smaller Grimm seemed to have stalled in their assault – the Alphas and Majors remaining were backing away, starting to retreat toward the trees. She knew they were more intelligent than most Grimm – perhaps they felt that without the Goliath, odds were no longer in their favour. The less intelligent Grimm remained, however, throwing themselves at the Atlesian guns with suicidal fervour.
White Fang troops, however, were now engaged in a furious, close-range firefight with Atlesian Soldiers – and they were losing. While the force attacking the train would have been more than enough to overwhelm any surviving troops or automatons from a regular guard detail after a serious Grimm attack such as the one they had faced today the superior equipment, discipline and training of the Atlesian Expeditionary Troopers was showing through today. Which lead Winter to one conclusion.
"They didn't expect us to be here," she murmured to herself.
She began running toward the stalled vehicle, cutting down several smaller Grimm who attempted to get in her way. With a single leap, she bounded up, landing on the roof of the second carriage.
And found herself face-to-face with four dumbfounded White Fang troops. One of them had seen her coming, and was already levelling his pistol at her.
Winter was conscientious of the fact that she needed prisoners. With that in mind, she decided she would put on a show of force. Time began to slow once more as a glyph formed under her feet.
She saw the bullet leave the pistol chamber, and begin flying in her direction. Impressively, the round was on target to hit her centre-mass, which said something for the reaction time and on-the-spot accuracy of the shooter.
As the bullet got closer, she brought her free hand up, catching it in the palm of her hand, and yanking down to cut out its momentum. She held the bullet up between two fingers as time began to speed back up again.
The four terrorists stared at her in shock. She wasn't surprised. Anyone with a bit of huntsman training could block or dodge bullets, but to see someone actually catch one in their hand must have been an unfortunately novel experience.
"Cute," she said calmly, "But I don't need a gun to do that."
Placing the bullet on her thumb, she flicked it with her index finger. The round blasted into the shooter's pistol with more force than the gun itself was capable of producing, knocking it out of the man's hand. The unfortunate grunt yelped in pain, cradling his hand as the others backed away warily.
"Have you ever heard the saying, 'Manners maketh the man'?" Winter asked them coldly, "Because what your friend there just did was rather rude."
She took a step forward. They took a step back. The sounds of the battle were quickly fading away – the remaining Grimm were being mopped up by the mobile units, while the White Fang's dropships were lifting off and leaving as quickly as they could.
"Then again, it should not surprise me," she continued, "For a group so determined to be treated like Humans, you members of the White Fang always seem strangely willing to ignore the prerequisite attributes implied."
She saw fists clench, but nobody moved. Good. If they weren't attacking after an insult like that, they knew they were beaten.
"Now, lay down your weapons and surrender," she ordered, "You're going to tell me everything you know."
One by one, they did so. Then, the one who had shot at her started chuckling.
"Oh?" Winter tilted her head, "Was something I said amusing?"
The man snorted. "Yeah, actually. The fact that you think we could even tell you a damn thing."
Her eyes narrowed. "Explain."
The terrorist did so, gleefully. "We aren't told anything. We don't even have contact with other groups any more. All we knew today was to attack the train when we saw a signal! I bet you could make us talk," he grinned, "But we can't tell you what we don't know."
She frowned, putting the pieces together. "Cells. You've started operating in cells."
At that point, one of her troops made it up onto the roof. "Ma'am, all Grimm have either retreated or have been eliminated, and all terrorist attackers have either retreated or have been incapacitated."
"Casualties?" Winter asked.
"Ten, Ma'am," the trooper reported gravely, "Eight lost to the Grimm, while Troopers Douglas and Teal died denying the comms centre to enemy terrorists before additional troops could reinforce."
She clenched her fist in anger. Ten good men and women, dead, and if what the ingrate in front of her was implying was true, she might not even get anything to show for it.
"Take these four away to be held with the rest of the prisoners," she ordered, "And bring the logistical units up to fix that break in the rail line. I want this train moving within the hour."
The trooper saluted. "Yes, Ma'am!"
As the four terrorists were led away, Winter pulled out her scroll, and began considering her report to General Ironwood.
Ultimately, the prototypes were still secure. Given that they were the only possible motive for an attack, not losing any of them made today an objective success.
She only wished that it felt that way.
"Well," Glynda commented, "His penchant for bringing his work wherever he goes certainly hasn't changed."
Ozpin could only silently agree as he observed the enormous airships floating above his school. He certainly was not a fan of having such an overt display of military force in his city, but it was something he would have to bear for the sake of keeping one of his most important allies on his side, and frankly, given the current climate, they may even be a help.
"What the hell is he thinking?" snarled the other occupant of Ozpin's office. He and Glynda turned to Qrow in surprise. "He knows we're supposed to be discrete, right? What part of 'parking giant airships over vale' is goddamn discrete?"
"Discretion is not as much of an issue, now," Ozpin pointed out, "Our enemy has already made their opening moves. Given the current situation, I actually feel that having a strong presence on the streets may calm the people's fears," he sighed, "That does not mean I don't feel they are an eyesore, however."
Whatever Qrow was about to say next was cut off by the elevator door opening. A tall, well-built man, black-haired with a hint of grey and wearing a smart military uniform walked into the office with a smile on his face.
"Ozpin, Glynda," James Ironwood greeted them, "It's good to see you. I wasn't expecting so many," he eyed the third man, "Qrow."
"Jimmy," Qrow greeted with a challenging smirk, "I wasn't expecting to be here myself. Ozpin called me back when I sent my little message."
The two men stared each other down, tension palpable in the room.
"Yes," Ozpin replied, "In response to some discomforting developments in the city, that I'm sure you've heard about."
"Straight to business, then," Ironwood sighed, "Yes, I have. I have news of my own to share as well, but that can wait for a moment."
"Very well," Ozpin repressed a hint of curiosity, "As you are aware, we have recently been having trouble with a young woman with a penchant for fire. It began when Glynda intervened in a battle between one Ruby Rose," Ironwood stirred at the name while Qrow's lips twitched, "And a mysterious young woman who was overseeing the robbery of a dust shop in downtown vale, that the former interrupted."
"Rose," Ironwood questioned, "Any relation to -"
"Yeah," Qrow replied shortly, "Her kid."
"I see," Ironwood nodded, "Please, go on."
"After that, we got reports of several incidents in town, but nothing really noteworthy until I received a rather interesting email from an anonymous source."
"This would be the thief," Ironwood frowned.
"Indeed," Ozpin agreed, "Roman Torchwick. Formerly a local thief, exceedingly difficult to pin down due to a combination of his own wiles and his unusually competent partner, a young-looking girl called Neopolitan. It seemed that he had formed an alliance of sorts with Hei Xiong, a local information broker who also traded in hired criminals, and was taking action to try and remove our mutual problem from Vale."
"Why?" Ironwood questioned, "Did he give a motive?"
"Simple lifestyle preservation, we believe," Glynda replied, "The dust supply was being hit hard, and we as well as the police were cracking down on criminals across the city to try and find the source. Torchwick and his ilk had two choices: either lie low and hope it all blows over, or try to remove the problem at it's source. Torchwick chose the latter, we believe at least partially due to not understanding the scope of what he was pitting himself against."
"Torchwick's information actually almost lead us to capturing the culprit," Ozpin continued, "When one of our combat teams, led by Glynda, engaged a White Fang outpost while she was present. However, the culprit managed to get away."
"And I heard that attack caused quite a bit of collateral damage, too," Qrow snickered, "Did you really need to level half the warehouse district?"
"I do not believe you are in any position to chide anyone over collateral damage, Qrow," Glynda sniffed.
"You're arguing hypocrisy to the guy who acts like a role model to a bunch of kids and drinks more than all their parents put together," Qrow pointed out before, as though he had suddenly reminded himself about his need to do so, taking a swig from his flask,
"Anyway," Glynda returned to the topic. "The enemy we were hoping for unfortunately escaped, but we captured the rather infamous White Fang member known as the Lieutenant. I'm sure you're aware of his list of known and suspected crimes, James."
"I am," Ironwood said appreciatively, "Getting that lunatic off the streets was a major win. Some of the crime scenes he has left behind..."
"Indeed," Ozpin interrupted, "Which lead us to a few weeks of relative peace, until the incident at the docks, which I am sure you're well aware of," his tone then hardened, "And which we still need to have words about. How is that girl?"
"Penny," Ironwood resisted the urge to sigh, "I can explain, Ozpin. Suffice to say, she was lucky. If Taurus had sliced her a couple of inches higher, he would have gone straight through her power core and killed her."
"You can't kill robots, Jimmy," Qrow rolled his eyes.
"Penny is not a mere robot, Qrow," the General replied, eyes narrowing, "She is a synthetic human, with a fully sapient artificial intelligence. She is as alive as you or me."
"Nontheless," Ozpin cut in, "As I said, we can discuss the girl later. What was important was that, with Torchwick's intervention once more, we found ourselves with Adam Taurus in captivity."
"Has he said anything since our last communication?" Ironwood asked instantly.
"Nothing of use," Ozpin replied, "He has grown steadily more unstable during his time in captivity, and has reportedly developed a rather unhealthy fixation with one of my students," his tone hardened again, "As you can imagine, I am rather reluctant to see him back out on the streets."
"Ah, yes," Ironwood said carefully, "The White Fang defector."
"Her name is Blake Belladona," Glynda replied sharply.
"Taurus' protegé, before she left," Ironwood replied, just as sharply, "We have done some research on your little celebrity, Ozpin, and we've linked her either directly or indirectly to several crimes, even some deaths when a freight train was hijacked several months ago."
"Miss Belladona has shown an earnest desire to repent for her past misdeeds," Ozpin said firmly, "And I believe she can do more good by becoming a huntress than she can by serving time in prison."
Ironwood did not look impressed. "I'm sure you had your reasons, but seeing a criminal get away scot-free with their crimes will never stop being a problem for me, Ozpin."
"Heh, I bet you busted a few of those screws loose at the next part, then," Qrow snarked, arms folded as he sat on Ozpin's desk.
"Of course, we then had Miss Schnee's little public relations gambit," Ozpin chuckled at the man's surprise, "Oh, I had nothing to do with it other than giving the go-ahead. The idea and implementation was all Weiss Schnee."
Ironwood raised an eyebrow. "I see somebody isn't following the party line. As you can probably imagine, I've had quite the earful about the whole thing from her father," he shook his head in irritation, "While I appreciate the resources he provides, I hope I'm never that overbearing to any children I ever have."
"Yes, well," Ozpin sighed, "You made your deal with a rather milder devil than I did, I fear."
"Less of a devil and more like… the devil's annoying pet, really," Qrow offered, "I'm not sure I'd rank him that high."
"I believe you're referring to Torchwick again," Ironwood assumed, "And this agreement you have apparently made with him. I'm seeing an uncomfortable amount of villains getting out of jail for free in this scheme of yours so far, Ozpin."
"He has proven surprisingly successful in his endeavours so far," Ozpin defended his position calmly, "He is giving every impression that he is the sort of man who, if properly motivated, can succeed when he is far out of his proverbial weight class. Combined with his contacts in the criminal underworld, and the fact that, by keeping an eye on him, we have a reasonable ability to keep a solid hold on crime throughout the city, I thought it was best to make use of him. He has, after all, been involved in both successes to be had against this 'Cinder' so far."
"Yeah, about that," Qrow spoke up again, "I've talked to the guy. While he can't prove who's making people vanish right now, he's confident he's got a plan that will work, as long as we back off and don't try to push him on anything. I don't know anything about this 'plan'," he made quotation marks with his fingers, "But I'll keep an eye on him and will hopefully have more information soon. Honestly, compared to what you had me doing before, this is easy."
"Let's not speak too soon," Ozpin said firmly, "Now, James, seeing as we've wrapped things up neatly there, you said you had information from us?"
"Yes," Ironwood pulled out his scroll, "An armed transport train carrying prototype Atlesian military technology was attacked earlier today by the White Fang."
Glynda's brow furrowed. "While unusually overt for them, I'm not sure why this warrants the Brotherhood's attention."
"Because they used Grimm to do it," Ironwood said gravely, "A small army of Grimm attacked the train with perfect timing, followed shortly by an attack force from the White Fang, attempting to steal some prototype mechanised war machines. Now, as any general knows, a conventional force managing to use the Grimm to do their dirty work for them -"
"-Is close to impossible," Ozpin finished for him, "Unless they had some means of controlling the Grimm. Which has been repeatedly shown to be impossible, apart from the one thing that we, in this room, know about."
"Salem," Qrow unfolded his arms, "She's moving now? We're nowhere near ready. Hell, we're still down a Maiden."
"And the other trump card we may have up our sleeves is a good few years away from being able to make a difference, yet," Ozpin sighed, ignoring Qrow's scowl with long-practised ease.
"Fortunately, they were unable to get away with any of the equipment, mainly because I changed the troop rotation last-minute to have the train guarded by an experienced expeditionary force due to the recent troubles here and my best Special Operative was on hand as well," Ironwood continued, "But this speaks volumes. They knew when to hit the train. They presumably knew what was on it. This means I have leaks in my army," he clenched his prosthetic fist, "That is a situation that I can not allow to continue."
"Maybe some of those 'special operatives' decided they were a bit too special to take orders from you," Qrow snorted, "Might wanna start there, pal."
"Not now, Qrow," Glynda cut in before Ironwood could retort.
"Another problem to add to the list of many that we are forced to deal with," Ozpin nodded tiredly, "Our enemy appears to be a step ahead of us at every turn. This is why I have turned to an outside element," he turned to Qrow, "Somebody who can, for lack of a better term, shake things up, and put a proverbial spanner in the works. People who can make plans are easy to come by, but people with such a talent for breaking them? A considerably rarer commodity. Qrow, keep an eye on Torchwick, but do not interfere unless it becomes absolutely necessary. We will give Torchwick the space he requires for now. James, for now, I would like you to focus on plugging these leaks of yours. We will meet here in this capacity again in a week, and go over the situation again, then."
"Sure thing," Qrow gave a lazy salute.
"Very well," Glynda nodded.
"That is fine," Ironwood replied, before smiling, "Now, Ozpin, if we are done with the business of saving the world, I believe I need to discuss a few things with you about the even more dangerous business of running a school."
"I'll leave you to it," Qrow waved off, turning to leave, "I get enough of that crap at signal."
"Yes, I'll make my way as well. I have duties to attend to," Glynda went to follow him.
"The deadliest business there is," Ozpin agreed, "Lord only knows how many times Glynda has said it would be the death of her. Come then, have a seat, first of all, I should show you the dorms I have reserved for your students..."