Marc approached the nearest opponent wielding a rifle with a bayonet affixed. The combination gave them more reach then Marc had, but limited their mobility. Marc opened with a thrust, and followed through by a slash, giving him a measure of their reactions. The opponent turned out to be surprisingly adept with the weapon, as he deflected the thrust handily and followed through with a slash of his own.

The mortar made a loud thump as it hit the ground. Contact fuses sometimes failed to detonate given the soft ground. This initially appeared to be the case, but this also had a pyrotechnic delay.

He kept his pistol drawn using his off hand. It was fortunate that he had the foresight to reload while intercepting his opponents. He was expecting some sort of witty banter, but these two proved to be as stoic as the finest soldier on parade.

Seeing no need to drag this out, Marc began to circle the two, forcing them to adopt a defensive stance. Eventually one moved away from his partner enabling them to strike from two directions at once.

In the background there came the sound of muffled gunfire. It appeared that his team had found something within the redoubt and were engaging. Meanwhile there was a loud woosh from the sniper’s position. That mortar might prove useful to me.

The remaining Krauts were waiting for him. Marc had sacrificed stealth and blood to reach them. This put him at a disadvantage because vampires had a limited reserve to draw from. If one expended too much they risked surrendering to their base instincts to feed.

Such vampires were threats to friends and foes alike. They killed without thought, until their thirst was satiated. I’ve seen them mow down dozens without slowing down.

Marc drew his sabre which led both Huns to flash him a curious look. While swords were still common among the officers, the blade in particular was decidedly unusual as it was a Spanish pattern abandoned a century ago. That only indicates how young these two are.

He scanned the horizon and noticed another two moving in from ruins of the town. Marc knew he could not effectively engage both groups before it was too late. So he had to alert the snipers and engage the most pressing threat.

He pulled out his revolver and fired off two rounds. The first struck the Hun in the back, and the other made a loud clang as it pieced the helmet. The shot was about an inch too high, but it was still enough to slow the man down.

Marc moved to his new objective like a blur, covering the two-hundred yard distance in twenty-two seconds. The snipers were now engaging, and he suspected a mortar or two would come next.

Murphy knew to hold the high ground, which is why his snipers provided covering fire from that point. One of their innovations was the addition of a mortar team. If Murphy and his men had to withdraw, they could do so under the cover of high explosive rounds. The infantry’s way of giving someone the finger.

He caught something moving from the corner of his eye. Below him someone was moving along the ground towards the sniper’s nest. The outline clearly showed the distinctive spiked helmet. Regardless, their lack of heartbeat confirmed it was another vampire.

That’s also why the enemy missed Marc. They were expecting humans, not a vampiric opponent. If I was them…

Marc was not referring to the ghouls. The men were more than capable of eradicating dozens of them without risking a single man. Ghouls were also scavengers and not predatory by nature. They’re only dangerous if caught by surprise or cornered.

What bothered Marc about the last mission was the vampire running into the fray. Not every opponent he faced were fanatics, some of them embraced reason very much like Marc did. If we can learn, so can they.

On a hunch, he focused on an open area near the factory. In a war the high ground was coveted. That’s how General Wolfe suffered a humiliating defeat at the Montmorency Falls. He must’ve had one hell of a chip on his shoulder to think he could overcome fire from an entrenched enemy while scaling sheer two-hundred foot cliffs.

The two other groups were approaching the redoubt. Craters and debris made the terrain treacherous, but the waning gibbous provided more than enough illumination.

Murphy wanted to plan the attack for last night, but Marc  steered him away without divulging the why. Vampires are never out in the open in the full moon for no reason.

Predictably they were flanking their objective, enabling them to use enfilading fire if needed. That tactic worked well for them their last time out.

“Now if I was the enemy,” Marc whispered. “Where would I be hiding?”

He grabbed his scabbard and ran towards his next vantage point. Marc had been there when Murphy briefed the men, enabling him to follow along just in case the tides of war shifted against them. If everything works out as intended, they’ll never have known I was here.

He reached the water tower for a railway line and climbed up the ladder. He knew from aerial photography of this site that the tower was still standing. Impressive considering how heavily this area was bombed.

From there he caught sight of Murphy and the forward edge of his group. By now, his team was effectively split in three, with the smallest section going for what remained of an old factory. The building was tall, sturdy and gave them a good vantage point to engage.

Unfortunately their side never accounted for the advent of indirect artillery fire and had to evacuate while under fire. This led to a high number of casualties during the withdrawal. When factoring in the underground chambers it amounted to the perfect environment for a ghoul nest. Nearby sightings confirm a large nest is in the area.

When the last man was out of sight, Marc stood from his vantage point, once more adorning the rank of a captain. This time he carried a sword and scabbard just in case. Back when he served under le Roi he learned to appreciate the curbed blade of a cavalry sword. The shape was ideal for sending a rider off his mount.

That was a trait found in Murphy and Marc was thrilled his second fostered that within his men. Now the team of twenty was travelling over ground, their silhouettes near impossible to see as they travelled using the natural cover. As a vampire he saw their outlines perfectly, what he lacked were the details, but he knew the men well enough to identify them.

They were a mile out from their objective, the ruins of a small redoubt, or more precisely earth fortifications with a small complement of buildings above and below ground. A place used to store munitions for cannons designed to fight in a war long forgotten.