Sawyer must have understood as he went the opposite direction. The aim was clear, seek and destroy the stragglers.

Upon reaching cover, he replaced the spent rounds in his revolver, snapped it back into place and waited. Gunfire was loud but readily filtered out by a disciplined mind. That was a curse for a young vampire because they were easily overwhelmed by external stimuli, forcing them to master this skill. Otherwise, a bullet will cure them of it.

He heard the faint heartbeats of Murphy’s support team, and several from Duff. That was not what he was looking for.

One minute…

All the while Duff was actively engaging several targets. There was heavy, machine-gun fire intermixed with trench guns. Given the number of vampires Marc spotted before contact, he half-expected things to quiet down.

Instead, a Hun slipped through the debris of an alley hoping to escape the hail of gunfire. Gilpin caught up, lunged at him with vampiric speed, and tore the man’s chest open using his claws. That’s going to leave a mark…

“I’ll go clockwise,” Marc said, without waiting for acknowledgement.

He dipped his sword arm as though the slash had been effective. His opponent smiled, as if someone injected a concentrated dose of courage straight into his veins.

When the Kraut tried to leverage his advantage, Marc hit the man with the hilt of his sabre. It was enough to stun him, giving Sawyer the chance to finish him off with a combination of bayonet charge and gunfire.

Piercing the heart was not generally fatal for vampires. However, it could freeze the victim for a period, especially if recently turned. Sawyer’s target never had a chance to move… again.

Marc dodged a swipe of claws, cutting through the fabric of his tunic along his sword arm. He used this opportunity to slice and free his opponent of his head. Just like that we have the numerical advantage.

Sawyer twisted his rifle to free the bayonet from the victim. Now both circled the remaining Hun, who was teetering on the edge of panic. That might have made him more dangerous, but Marc learned how this game was played long ago.

Two minutes…

Silent as a predator ought to be, Sawyer approached them from the rear with his rifle at the ready. When Marc nodded, Sawyer fired a shot at point-blank range sending a spray of brain matter and bone into the air.

Whereas Marc fired two shots at the talker. The first hit true, right in the middle of his eyebrow while the second penetrated nearer to the base of the skull.

Both moved in near synchrony, Marc attacking with his sabre while Sawyer did so with a combination of rifle fire and bayonet charges.

Marc’s face remained neutral even as he pulled his revolver from its holster. Four vampires might be a threat, but this was hardly formal German.

These were street kids and looked the part. Marc guessed Drusilla was turning gang members and sending them off as fodder. If I turned just ten of my men, we could decimate a division.

He kept his face neutral, careful to maintain a standoff without getting himself cornered. That gave them the perception that he was worried, but that soon changed.

Marc smiled, while calmly reloading his weapon prior to holstering it. He grabbed a rope leading off the balcony and used it to get to the ground level.

Before reaching the ground, footsteps were heard. He let go, found his footing and ended up facing another three vampires.

“Drei jejen eener… Mach det vier,” the lead man said, while another man exited the stairwell. (Three against one… make that four.)

One vampire was struck in the shoulder which would slow him down. Still, they peppered their targets with gunfire without sacrificing accuracy. They just need to hinder their advance.

Marc peeked around the corner and spotted the husks of two burning vampires. Three seconds later he caught a distinctive high-pitched twang of a tripwire breaking off from the hatch leading into the clockwork mechanism.

The men secured it with chains, but Marc added this additional precaution. This caused a grenade he had altered to detonate with a significantly shortened fuse. Before it even hit the ground the grenade went off, filling the area with shrapnel and fire.

The signal was enough to alert Duff. Simultaneously a rope was dropped from above, just as a mass of burning pitch was dropped onto the balcony’s entrance. The flares that followed six seconds later engulfed the entryway in flames.

Marc unsheathed his sword, with two rounds chambered. He held his position, relying on his hearing to confirm they were not trying to flank him.

“Clear,” Murphy called out, while taking the rope up with him.

This signalled the next phase of their response. Three snipers began firing at the approaching Huns. The opposition were clearly not prepared for an armed resistance.

He squeezed off another two rounds before ducking around the corner. He was not sure, but judging from the German swears at least one round found its mark. No one seems to be complaining about my shots being about an inch too high.

Murphy fired off a white flare. It lit up the path along its trajectory, travelling in a high arc before burning out. We don’t want to bring down artillery on our position… yet.

Three minutes…