Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. The wonderful characters and settings of the RWBY universe belong to Monty Oum and RoosterTeeth.

Chasing Shadows

Chapter Eight: The White Fang

Blake's footsteps were near silent as she leapt across the rooftops of the abandoned downtown district of Vale. The area was on of the closest to Beacon and as such was still a hive of activity, filled with Grimm drawn by the unnatural call of the great Dragon currently frozen atop the destroy CCT tower.

Blake had only returned to Vale a week or so ago. It had been nearly a month since she had been on the fateful visit to Patch and she had put as much distant between herself and her partner – ex-partner she reminded herself, I've abandoned her, even if it was for her own good. I knew what this would do to her the day I left. Blake carried on moving away, she would continue to protect her team from the shadows, even if they weren't aware of it.

It was what she was best at after all.

Blake had been brought back to the ruined city to follow a lead she had picked up on a small village, located somewhere near the Vale border which she had spent the past two weeks heading for. It was difficult on foot, Vale was a huge city that encompassed a huge portion of the kingdoms land and after that it was just a scattering of villages amongst dense forests, and the climate only got hotter and more hostile as you closed in on Vaccuo.

Her information suggested there was a large White Fang build up in this area, although she still couldn't quite work out what exactly they were building up for. Even with the fairly large numbers they could produce without alerting the distracted Atlas forces in the city it still wouldn't be enough to present any significant threat without the Grimm they had last time. Perhaps they intended to start an entirely Faunus section of Vale, ditching the uniform to slip quietly unnoticed amongst the rebuilding efforts.

Blake didn't know, but she was going to find out.

She had waited until night began to close in before leaving the rumble stained room she had made her home for the past two days. She had finally found the hauntingly familiar red strips painted on the side of a dilapidated bar. Returning to her temporary setup she had staked out the entrance the first night, watching what must have been well over a hundred faunus, unashamedly displaying their White Fang affiliation without fear of arrest or retribution.

Tonight she had decided to make her move, the former nightclub had several entrances to the main building, once reserved for staff or VIP guests they now allowed Blake almost unopposed access to the building. They wasn't any significant presence of guards, they clearly felt the combination of nearby Grimm and with the attention of the Atlas forces almost solely dedicated to protecting the rebuilding and repopulation efforts would prevent anything other than a wondering Beowolf or two from coming anywhere near the underground base.

It was almost too easy for her to slip in undetected. Her mask sat uncomfortably upon her face, not physically, it was more concerning to Blake just how well it fit, as if it was made for her and her alone, after nearly two years apart from the organisation. She had also changed into one of her alternate outfits, the white top and black trousers from the last time she had infiltrated a meeting was back.

Blake strode confidently through the small number of people who were up and about. Blake knew from experience that unusual faces weren't an uncommon sight within the White Fang, the very nature of the organisation meant members would disappear, either arrested or dead and would be replaced within a day or two by a new recruit. This was especially true within an operation of this size; there was no way one person could know everyone here.

The inside of the nightclub had been turned into a storeroom, what once was a wide open dance floor had been divided into a maze like collection of artificial paths, formed by the crates of supplies that ran from floor to ceiling. Blake could here the crates being moved down into the basement of the club, where they would no doubt remain once this section of the city as returned to its former glory.

She reached the entrance to the subterranean section of the nightclub and nodded to the guard on the door. The masked stag faunus, with his small antlers rising from his head raised his fist to his chest, striking the blood red emblem on his white uniform before sliding it across his chest. It was the same signal Blake recognised from her time in the organisation, used to identify members in the street without risky code words or phrases. It was an action that could easily be disguised by a coughing fit or clearing of the throat. Blake mirrored the move, slamming her fist to the area just above her left breast before dragging it slightly straight down. The guard nodded to her and opened the door, letting the cat faunus into the heart of the operation.

What she saw shocked her.

The small basement of the club used once for storage of simple spirits, soft drinks and food supplies before the battle had been turned into one of the biggest armouries Blake had ever seen. The area had been mined out to encompass what must have been at least an entire block of the city. The area was lit by huge spotlights, numerous Paladins, painted in the distinct bone white and blood red of the White Fang were standing in sets of four, and even more were striding around the room carrying huge boulders and trailers filled with rocks and other mining materials.

Blake slipped into the shadows behind her; skipping past the check in points stationed only a few meters in to the room. Luckily her entrance was perfectly unnoticed, the loud hum of activity along with the general busyness of the operation meant no one paid much attention to the single, unknown face that had just slipped in.

Blake could instantly see what they were doing here; the size of the operation was explained instantly. They were mining under the city, creating a series of tunnels and tracks that intersected with the sewers to give the White Fang almost unlimited access to even the most restricted sections of the city. The largest two tunnels led in familiar directions, one to the docks for Beacon and the other to the central district of Vale, and, if Blake was a gambling woman, right to where they were currently rebuilding the city.

That wasn't the worst thing they were doing here however. Blake noticed the crates on her way in, along with the hundreds more that had already been moved down here. Most were filled with food and water, many others with forms of dust to power the vast operations that was being run. However she had seen the boxes marked with the black tiger, it was a symbol the fang used only for their most precious of cargo. Blake had seen it used before on biological weapons, various gases designed to knockout entire garrisons of police or soldiers. She had also seen it used with the more powerful explosives, specially refined fire and energy dust designed to do one thing and one thing only, destroy.

Blake ducked behind a stack of crates as a solitary guard walked by, gun held lightly in his relaxed grasp. Blake made herself as small as possible, crouching low to remain unseen in the poorly lit gaps between the crates.

The guard passed by without incident.

Then, from her hidden place, squeezed tighter than one of Yang's hugs between two boxes, she heard him.

That voice, it was so familiar. She had heard it almost everyday for several years. It couldn't be anyone else, she was sure, but still she had to check. To see with her own eyes he'd survived and was here.

Blake slunk out from her hiding place, peering above the boxes to look towards the voice. He was right there, standing not twenty meters away from her, barking out orders in the distinctive, vicious snarl that was all too familiar.

So, he did survive the train. Blake hadn't been sure; none of the other White Fang members had survived or been so uninjured as to make it out of the wreckage of the train before the Grimm had descended upon them. However, Professor, sorry, Doctor Oobleck, Torchwick and even Zwei had all made it out so she supposed it was possible.

This was just her luck, one of only a handful of people who might have recognised her and he was running the very operation she had decided to shut down. Good job Blake, she thought to herself, good job.

"In just over a day the main drill will reach the central district. We must begin to set the explosive; we can't afford any delay lest we risk those humans finding us. Everybody knows their assigned duties, so make it quick and get it done." Snarled Banesaw, his distinctive tattoos rippled with the immense muscle in his arm as he shook his fists towards the dispersing crowd.

Blake would have to act fact, she couldn't let the White Fang tunnel under the city, they would destroy everything all over again.

She needed a plan. Now

It would be risky. Foolish, even.

She should leave, reassess.

But tomorrow would be too late.

Her actions were hot headed, rash.

Just like Yang.

Wait, Yang! That was it.

Fire.

Explosives.

She had a plan.

Sneaking back around the supply crates Blake melded into the nearest group of twenty or so White Fang. A few of them were talking amongst themselves and so no one noticed the black haired girl slide in behind them. She would need a Paladin, one of the black tiger crates and a huge slice of luck for this to work. Hopefully she could do it without killing too many people. She wished that number was zero, but she knew that was simply impossible.

Blake followed her group to the stash of black tiger boxes. Opening the lid she found exactly what she expected inside. Several arm length crystals or a distinctive bright orange colour, the result of mixing the fiery red and golden yellow an energy crystal together to form this compound.

She watched as the others took a box from the pile and wondered over to a Paladin each. Blake followed without breaking step, being sure to keep and eye out for the lieutenant, who was surely lurking amongst his workers, ensuring everyone did as instructed.

They placed the box on the floor in front of their Paladin and jumped in the machines, bringing it to life with a series of well learn actions. Blake took a second to open her box, and then pretended to examine her machine as she had seen Yang do to her previous bumblebee bike many times before. All the while she carefully slipped the explosive crystals in between the armour plating of her Paladin's legs and mid section. She was very cautious with the delicate crystals, which were highly unstable, hence the need to ship them in separate, specially marked containers.

Finally she finished her 'checks', stuffing the last crystal in behind the plate just below the knee, leaving one corner visible to her. She would be needing that soon. Blake jumped into the cockpit but didn't bother strapping herself in; she knew she wouldn't be in the machine for very long. She had hopped to be the first in line, but several had already beat her too it. It was a shame, but they could survive a few days during which time they could be dug out.

She knew they wouldn't be however.

Into the queue she went, managing to control the Paladin with only a little difficulty, these machines had been designed for use by the Atlas military, they weren't the most complicated of machines. In her mech's hands she held the now empty crate of explosives, if only to keep up appearances. Slowly she nudged forward with the rest. Whilst the tunnel was more than big enough for humans or faunus to walk down it threefold, it was only tall enough to allow Paladins to walk down the middle one at a time.

Finally she got to the tunnel entrance.

Blake jerked a lever in the cockpit, flinging the Paladin's arms around wildly. Next she jerked one of the machines legs, making it seem to all those outside the machine she had simply lost control of the machine. Finally she stepped into the tunnel, blocking off the others from making any progress before she thrust Gambol Shroud into the mass of electronics under the main console, forcing the lumbering machine the grind to a halt.

By now all eyes were on her.

Blake jumped from the cockpit and put as much distant between herself and the mech she could without ruining her plan, she would need to make the shot first time otherwise she's be swarmed before she could take a second. It was risky, but necessary. She had promised her teammates that the White Fang would no longer hurt them; she wouldn't allow them close to anything they held dear.

She had to do this.

"What is going on!" screamed a voice from her left. It was the same grisly snarl that had forced her hand in the first place. Banesaw stalked towards Blake, his chainsaw held menacingly at his side and he walked towards his incompetent worker.

Then he saw her.

Her.

Blake Belladonna.

Behind his mask his eyes widened in fury. His chainsaw began to rev at the flick of his wrist and he gave a low growl as the bear like man charged towards his prey. Blake knew the game was up; all around her the other members moved away, it wasn't unlike Banesaw to physically discipline those who he felt had failed to contribute enough to the war effort.

She turned and flicked Gambol Shroud into its pistol form, taking only the quickest of glances as she aimed for the speck of orange sticking out from her Paladins leg.

Bang.

She took the shot.

A/N: Well that's this weeks chapter done. I really had trouble finding the time to write this so hopefully I'll be able to review and edit it some more once I've got the time. As always this is unbeta'd, so be a star and point out my spelling and/or grammar mistakes so I can fix them.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I love you all in a totally platonic way.