Author's note at the end of part 3.
Words in italics: thoughts, dialogue in a foreign language, radio communications, and flashbacks.
PARADIS CITY
PART 1
"Godmother, this is Reaper actual, over."
"Reaper actual, this is Godmother, send traffic, over."
"Godmother, we have disembarked and are moving towards the objective, over."
"Copy, Reaper actual. No sign of enemy activity in the AO, break. Stay frosty and engage only if engaged, over."
"Wilco, Godmother. Reaper actual, out."
Forever Fall Forest, Kingdom of Vale, 15:24:13
The Forever Fall Forest was a particularly quiet place. The Grimm rarely ventured there, as the students of Beacon Academy and their teachers often trained there. No exercises were scheduled in the forest that day and, as such, calm reigned supreme over the forest. Sunlight bled through the canopy, casting streaks of amber across the trees and the ground. The sound of birds chirping could be heard as bees buzzed towards their hive, high up a tree. The wind rustled the crimson leaves, but the usual sounds of small animals were absent. A silence unnatural to the Forever Fall Forest.
Boots crunched against fallen branches, the sound sharp in the quietness of the woods. Moving in disciplined formation, soldiers in camouflage fatigues advanced through the trees. Their movements were precise, practiced; their attention on their surroundings, their gaze scanning the forest for any enemy, their weapons following their gaze.
They moved in four fireteams of four, spaced for both mutual support and blast dispersion. In the lead was their commander, a man with a short dark beard peppered with white—a testament to years of service. His second-in-command, ten years his junior, followed a short distance behind, keeping a watchful eye on their flank.
An hour and a half earlier, an SDC train transporting a large cargo of dust ores was attacked by the White Fang. The incident alone wasn't unusual-White Fang attacks on SDC cargo were a common occurrence. However, something was off. SANCOM was in contact with the crew until communications were abruptly cut off. In addition, the presence of Adam Taurus among the attackers raised serious concerns and SANCOM feared the worst for the crew of the train.
Thus, 1 Troop, 1st squadron, 3rd Special Forces Regiment, currently deployed in Vale, was ordered to investigate. SANCOM deployed two drones from the 22nd Air Reconnaissance Squadron, codename "Vulture", to reconnoiter the area, locating part of the locomotives deep in the forest. The rest of the train had reached its destination 15 minutes ago, but something—or someone—had separated these cars from the rest.
The commander slowed his pace and raised a fist.
"Halt!"
The troop stopped as one, the men kneeling on the ground, weapons up, eyes scanning the treeline. Their breaths were steady, measured. No one spoke.
The commander let his rifle hang from its sling as he pulled a PDA from a pouch on his vest. The screen flickered to life, displaying a tactical map of the area. After a few moments, he pressed his radio.
"Vulture, this is Reaper actual, over."
A brief crackle, then a reply.
"Reaper, this is Vulture, send traffic, over."
"Vulture, we are less than 500 meters from the objective. Is there any hostile presence?" Over."
"Reaper actual, there are four Beowolves 200 meters from your current position, straight ahead. There are no other hostiles in the area. Over."
"Roger that, Vulture. Reaper actual, out."
He exhaled before pressing another button on his radio.
"All Reaper elements, this is Reaper 1-1. Grimm spotted 200 meters in front of us. Form skirmish line. Maintain dispersion. Stay frosty. Let's move."
He stood up. The rest of the unit followed suit, shifting into a single line formation, with the commander's group in the center. They advanced further into the woods.
A minute passed before they reached a small ridge overlooking a small clearing. As the unit stood on the edge, they saw them.
Four Beowolves, hunched and snarling over something on the ground. Something red. Something human-shaped.
The wind shifted. One of the creatures stiffened, its nostrils flaring. It turned its head—and three shots punched through its skull before it could make a sound. The others barely had time to react before they too collapsed, black mist hissing from their disintegrating corpses.
The team advanced, weapons raised, scanning their surroundings in search of a threat. The moment the bodies vanished, they saw the thing the Grimm had been feeding on.
A man. Or what was left of him.
"Is that a…" One of the troopers began.
"That's one of the crew members." The second-in-command muttered.
The unit moved in, their boots shifting loose dirt as they gathered around the body. Half the poor man's head was missing. His back was riddled with bullet wounds. The way he was sprawled out, arms stretched forward… He had been running when he was gunned down.
"He was shot," the second-in-command said grimly. "Took rounds in the back. Probably tried to flee."
"This is bad, captain." One trooper said, looking at the body before averting his gaze.
The captain didn't hesitate.
"Godmother, this is Reaper actual, we have found a dead crew member, roughly 100 meters from the objective. He was shot in the back trying to flee. Over.
"Copy, Reaper actual. Keep us posted. Out."
The captain turned his attention towards his men.
"All elements, move on the objective. On the double!"
The unit surged forward. A few moments later, the abandoned train cars were in sight. However, the closer they got, the worse it got.
"Captain, four bodies, straight ahead." A trooper called out.
Four bodies laid on the ground side by side next to the front car.
"Blair! Get over here!" The captain called.
Lance-corporal Jeanne Blair, the unit's medic, rushed over, a large medical duffel bag slung over her shoulder, bouncing on her back as she ran. She dropped the bag on the ground. She knelt beside the first body, fingers pressing against a cold, motionless neck. She moved quickly to the others, checking for any sign of life. After a few moments, she gave the captain a grim shake of her head.
"They're dead, captain Lloyd." She told the captain. "Judging from their position and the blood spatter on the car, they may have been executed."
The captain muttered a quiet "shit" before turning his attention back to his men.
"Patrols 2 and 4, form a defensive perimeter. One and three, on me!"
The men of Two and Four began moving, forming a semi-circle. As they moved, they took note of several signs pointing to the recent presence of the perpetrators. Various footprints on the ground, some with trace amounts of blood.
Captain Lloyd climbed first onto the flat bed wagon, quickly followed by the rest of the search party. The remains of a large, four-legged security bot were strewed everywhere on the wagon. Some crates were missing. Others had been pried open, their contents stripped away. The White Fang had stolen the dust on board.
The sleeping car was their next target. The captain pointed at the car's door.
"Baird, Bomber! Check if the door's locked."
Corporal Robert "The Bruce" Baird, the unit's signals specialist, and lance-corporal Harry "Bomber" Harris, the demolition expert, moved up, positioning themselves on either side of the entrance. The others took cover behind crates. Harris reached for the handle and turned it.
"Door's unlocked, captain." The lance-corporal called out.
"Good. You two take point."
"On your mark, sir." Baird readied his rifle. Harris adjusted the collapsible stock of his shotgun.
"Breach!"
Harris swung the door open. Baird was the first in, rifle raised, flashlight flicking across the small, dimly lit hallway. He veered right into one of the rooms. Harris followed, peeling left into another one.
"Clear!" came the calls as each room was checked, one after another. Troopers O'Malley and Beharry, the last men to enter the car, took point at the doorway leading into the next wagon. The door was lying on the floor, having been knocked down from its hinges. The captain, now at the back of the group, pressed on his radio.
"Alright. O'Malley, Beharry, on my mark. Breach!"
They pushed into the next car. What they found on the other side was like something out of a slasher film.
Shattered crates. Bullet-riddled security drones. Bloodstains smeared across the walls and floor. The bodies of train crew members lay where they had fallen—some slumped against seats, others sprawled across the floor. Some had bullet wounds. Others had been cut.
Torn apart.
Limbs severed. Heads missing. The work of a blade—sharp, precise, ruthless.
The captain's jaw tightened.
"Godmother, this is Reaper actual. We found more dead crew members. They appear to have been murdered by the White Fang, over."
"Copy, Reaper. Keep clearing the cars. Gather what intel you can. Godmother, out."
The captain turned towards one of his team leads. "Cameron, get your boys to start documenting everything. Command's going to need this."
"Wilco, boss. O'Malley, Beharry—start taking pictures."
As they moved through the remaining cars, the pattern repeated: more bodies, more destruction. They collected what evidence they could, but the deeper truth of what had happened here remained elusive.
Fifteen minutes later, they regrouped where they started. Captain Lloyd exhaled loudly, relieved to be out of that slaughterhouse. He turned to his second-in-command.
"What do you think, Gary? Taurus?"
Sergeant Gary "Lion" de Pass crossed his arms. "Apart from these four," he gestured to the four bodies Blair had examined earlier, "most definitely. But it could also have been Belladonna's handiwork."
De Pass shrugged. "It's a possibility, sir. We don't know what sort of indoctrination she went through."
It was, indeed, a possibility. Blake Belladonna had vanished five years ago, running from her family to join the White Fang after her father stepped down as its leader. No one knew what she had become since.
The captain shook his head. "Either way, we have enough proof to tie this to the White Fang. But we'll need the security footage to confirm."
De Pass frowned. "I had Three check for a security terminal. Nothing. Footage is probably with the other half of the train in Vale."
Lloyd keyed his radio. "Godmother, this is Reaper Actual. No survivors. We've gathered some evidence, but security footage is on the other half of the train. Over."
"Copy, Reaper. Be advised—Vale PD and huntsmen are en route to your position. ETA, fifteen minutes. Over."
"Roger. Reaper Actual, out."
He turned to his men
"Everyone, fall back to the vehicles."
The men of 1 Troop returned into formation and retreated in good order.
In the sky above, the two drones kept a watchful eye over the AO.
"Vulture, this is Godmother. Return to base, over."
"Wilco, Godmother. Returning to base. Out."
The Hideout, [redacted], city of Vale, Kingdom of Vale, 17:15:54
"Wilco, Godmother. Reaper actual, out."
Captain Lloyd, still wearing his woodland combat dress, sat down at his desk and began reviewing the orders he had received.
After 1 Troop returned to base, Godmother contacted captain Lloyd for a debrief of the mission. As expected, SANCOM was alarmed by this blatant violation of the Kuo Kuana Agreements by the White Fang's Vale branch. After reviewing evidence 1 Troop had gathered—along with security footage recovered from the other half of the train, provided by the VPD—CENTCOM immediately contacted the White Fang leadership to report the incident.
In the past, the White Fang had punished members who violated the Agreements, though it had mostly been low-level operatives or expendable members who faced punishment. However, this situation was different, as the evidence directly implicated Adam Taurus, Sienna Khan's protégé, whose influence within the organization had grown significantly. Adam's status complicated things and CENTCOM feared that Khan might refuse to act against him—jeopardizing the Agreements and possibly leading to open hostilities.
In the meantime, Godmother relayed new orders from CENTCOM to 1 Troop.
With the help of their contacts in the VPD, 1 Troop was to investigate the recent Dust robberies and the train heist to determine if they were connected. If so, they needed to uncover where the stolen dust was being stored and why.
"You are to use any means at your disposal to gather intelligence," Godmother had instructed. "Leverage our informants within the city or exploit corrupt officials in the police force. Bribe them if necessary. With the Council preoccupied with the upcoming elections and the Vytal Festival, national security isn't their priority."
"What about Blake Belladonna?" Captain Lloyd had asked.
Security footage had revealed that Blake Belladonna herself had separated the train, though her motives were unclear. Lloyd suspected she had defected.
"Whether she has or hasn't isn't our concern," Godmother replied. "CENTCOM wants her apprehended and extracted. As for Taurus, we'll have to wait and see what Khan does."
A knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Come in."
Sergeant de Pass entered first, followed by the patrol leaders—three corporals, all still in combat dress, wearing their beige beret adorned the 3rd Special Forces Regiment insignia: a winged dagger.
Corporal Kyle Anderson, the last to enter, snapped to attention.
"Sir!" He saluted.
"At ease. Close the door."
Anderson complied, before joining his colleagues.
Captain Lloyd took a moment to inspect his men. From left to right were corporal Henry "Diablo" Mendez, team leader of 2 Patrol, callsign "Reaper 1-2"; corporal John "Loch Ness" Cameron of 3 Patrol, callsign "Reaper 1-3"; and corporal Anderson of 4 Patrol, callsign "Reaper 1-4".
"Alright, gentlemen," Lloyd began. "We received new orders straight from CENTCOM. We're investigating the recent dust robberies and the train heist. CENTCOM and SANCOM suspect they're connected.
He pressed a button on his desk. The large screen behind him flickered on, displaying newspaper headlines and security stills of Roman Torchwick.
"We know who's behind the robberies," Lloyd continued, pointing at Torchwick's image. "What we don't know is why he's committing these robberies, nor where the stolen dust is being stockpiled."
Another button press. The images changed to stills from the train footage—showing Adam Taurus and Blake Belladonna.
"The next step is confirming whether the heist and the robberies are linked. If the White Fang is working with Torchwick, we need to know why."
He switched the display to a detailed map of Vale, the grabbed a laser pointer.
"Tomorrow, we will be operating in the city. Each patrol will have an assigned district."
He pointed at Vale's port.
"Mendez, you and your team are covering the port." The map zoomed in. "There are several tall buildings near the harbor. Get Almog and Brown posted on one with a good view while and Paul drive around."
Mendez nodded. "Yes, sir. Any chance we'll be able to enter the harbor?"
Lloyd shrugged. "I wouldn't advise it. But if you find a way in and stay discreet, go for it. Do not get caught. Clear?"
"Cristal."
Lloyd then pointed at the industrial district.
"Cameron, you and your team are covering the industrial district. If you come up dry, get a few drinks with our friends from the local precinct."
Cameron smirked. "Wilco, captain."
Next, Lloyd pointed at a specific building in the commercial district.
"Anderson, you guys are visiting Junior."
The room tensed slightly. Anderson raised an eyebrow. "Sir… isn't he a little pissed off right now?"
"Very," Lloyd confirmed. "Someone trashed his club a few days ago. Some of his guys are still in the hospital and his brother's in jail. So, yeah—he's in a bad mood."
Anderson sighed. "Great."
"You'll have access to the bribery fund. Take a 100 grand. That should cover his damages and his brother's release, plus any intel he may have." He looked at Cameron. "Cameron, you take a few thousand Lien—probably won't need more than a few hundred."
Cameron chuckled. "Cheap bastards won't last long if we get 'em drunk enough."
Lloyd smirked. "Exactly."
Finally, he set the laser pointer back on the desk. "1 Patrol and I will be meeting with our White Fang contact to see what they know."
He surveyed the room. "Questions?"
No one spoke.
"Good." He powered the screen down. "Now, what's the status on our supplies?"
Mendez, the troop's designated cook, spoke first. "We're fully stocked on food, captain. We received the kosher meat and wine sergeant de Pass requested."
Lloyd looked at his second-in-command, who smiled at the news.
"Baruch HaShem." He said.
The captain then turned his attention to Cameron, the troop's armorer.
"We're fully stocked on ammo and spare parts, sir."
"What about our medical supplies, Anderson?" The captain asked.
"We're running low on isopropyl alcohol and ibuprofen, sir."
Lloyd waved a hand. "Buy some while you're in town."
"Understood."
Lloyd glanced around. "Alright gentlemen, brief your teams. Any questions will be answered at chow time. Dismissed."
The corporals exited the room, closing the door behind them. De Pass sat down at his desk and began working on his computer. Lloyd leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face. De Pass, still at his computer, noticed.
"Tired, sir?"
Lloyd exhaled tiredly. "Yeah." He closed his eyes for a moment. "A bit bored too."
Boring was the right word to describe Vale. The city had a reputation for safety and peace, with very few violent crimes and very few Grimm attacks due to the formidable defenses along the city wall. The only "exciting" thing in Vale was the corruption scandals involving prominent members of the Council and law enforcement, which had itself been in decline in the last four years. For special forces soldiers, who were accustomed to combat operations across Remnant, being stuck in Vale was like a forced vacation.
De Pass turned in his chair, now facing Lloyd. "Yeah, I get. But with everything going on right now, we might get some action soon enough."
Lloyd stared at the ceiling.
"About that, I'm worried," he admitted. He looked back at his comrade. "This whole thing—the White Fang working with a human crime lord? Torchwick, of all people? It doesn't make sense. Something feels… wrong."
De Pass nodded grimly. "You're not alone, sir. Let's just hope that whatever's going on, we can put a stop to it."
Both men went back to work, hoping that they would be proven wrong.
Author's Notes
See the end of part 3 for the author's notes.
Leave a comment. Any constructive criticism is welcome.
Glossary:
- AO: Area of operation.
- CENTCOM: Central Command.
- Fireteam: the smallest military unit, compose of four or fewer members.
- SANCOM: Sanus Command.
- Wilco: Will comply.