“An absolute failure!” Krieg shouted, slamming his fist down on his desk. “From start to finish, this was an utter humiliation. Victor, your explanation had better be damned good.”

  “They had more men than expected,” Victor replied flatly, standing at a rigid attention. “And Amaranth was able to join her team and outflank our forces. Despite that sir, I believe this was a success, overall.”

  Krieg began tearing into the weak excuse Victor offered, and not for the first time in recent weeks Craig Muller was glad he wasn’t a parahuman. In an organization like Werwolf, or Fenrir’s Chosen, or Empire Eighty-Eight, powers were a ticket to more money and more status. But it would also make him a target for the failures currently stacking up against them.

  It was something that had only been getting worse as time went on. Craig remembered how things were under Allfather, when he’d just been a little rat running a small-time street crew. He’d survived more than most unpowered members, which did at least explain his presence here to some degree.

  At the same time, Craig hadn’t been involved in fighting the Terriers at all so far. He had secured a large piece of territory for Fenrir’s Chosen in the aftermath of Leviathan’s attack, then kept it quiet the whole while. It had been where the casualties of Shatterbird’s ambush came to recover, safe and secure deep in the South End of Brockton Bay.

  But now he was being dragged into the war room at three in the morning, in the aftermath of a failed defence his men had no part in. He was tired, sore, rather annoyed that this twit in charge of the remains of the Empire was raging at him. But he was a professional and didn’t dare let it show on his face.

  “Captain Muller,” Krieg snapped, making him stiffen slightly.

  “Yes sir,” Craig replied flatly.

  “You ignored the call for reinforcements.” Ah, so that was it.

  “Not exactly sir.” He cleared his throat. “I have no mobile teams under my command. It would have taken us too long to assemble, equip, and travel. I determined it was too likely the PRT would have responded by then, and we simply don’t have the troops to waste engaging the government.” With losses stacking, they needed to husband their forces.

  “Excuses,” Krieg spat. Craig remained quiet, earning a hard glare. “I expect you to fight for our cause, captain. How long have you been a member?”

  “Just about twenty years, sir.” Long enough he knew the ‘cause’ was a distant memory. If Allfather could see what had become of them, he’d have wept.

  “You’re the most experienced human leader by far,” Krieg said. “Your skills have been squandered, it seems.”

  “I have ensured my quarter is kept quiet and profitable,” Craig countered, feeling sweat pricking at his back. He was no coward, but he was far too old to be charging around with the kids on the street. “Not only that, but I’ve made it a haven for the many, many casualties we’ve been taking.”

  “Any low-grade lieutenant could do the same,” he replied, making Craig’s blood pressure rise a few notches. “You will be given command of our strike teams and answer directly to me. With your experience, I’m certain you’ll find success where others have failed.” He grit his teeth til he felt them creak.

  “Yes sir,” Craig said tersely. There wasn’t much else he could say, not if he wanted to keep his tongue. “May I go then? It seems I have a lot of work to do.”

  “I suppose,” Krieg said. “You were not part of this failure captain, and for your sake I hope you perform better that your predecessor.”

  “Good luck, Captain Muller,” Victor offered as Craig turned sharply on his heel.

  “Thank you sir,” he replied as he walked out. “I’ll take all I can get.”

  The state of the Einsatzgruppe Schwarz was abysmal, when Craig arrived. The fighting force had been reduced my over half since the Terriers appeared on the scene, and of those only twenty were in fighting shape. Since the enemy had taken their Tinker, there was no longer a reset button for injuries, so they were stuck with back alley doctors once more; Othala’s services were backlogged to much to even consider his new command. Worse still, many of the remaining soldiers were relatively new, some barely even jumped in.

  His work was cut out for him, but he set about it as best he could. Fortunately, for the first week of Craig’s posting, he was given some slack by the enemy. He used it as efficiently as he could, reequipping his teams, acquiring transport to replace the teleportation devices, and try to give the new blood some kind of training before they faced off against the hardened soldiers of the Terriers.

  Craig spent his own time divided between setting up his own forces and studying the enemy. Amaranth, their leader, was far from a tactical genius. Indeed her execution was so straightforward he was shocked she hadn’t lost any men so far. Luck, it seemed, was on her side.

  But there were ways to put a stop to her. The Tankgewehr, a weapon sent over by their European allies, had apparently wounded her seriously enough to put a stop to her antics for a time. Unfortunately, the Tinker hadn’t come with his weapon so their uses of it were limited. Though he’d asked for it, he’d been swiftly rebuffed. Only for parahumans, it seemed.

  A sigh escaped his lips as he ran racked the charging hand on his carbine. They had been given HK53s to replace the MC51s the previous captain had decided were ideal, seeming to forget there weren’t Brutes in the Terriers who could be put down by bullets at all. Better to have something more practical for dealing with Amaranth’s supporting forces. With any luck, his soldiers could hang onto theirs and not give the enemy more materiel.

  The break in fighting didn’t last as long as Craig would have hoped. Yesterday had been the first attack in some time, but he was on his way to the second in just as many nights. The Terriers weren’t as hurt as he’d been led to believe. Troubling, that they recovered so fast. They’d likely co-opted that Tinker, Kraftwerk, to heal their men.

  “Almost there sir,” the driver, Harry, commented as they rounded a corner. He didn’t need to announce it, Craig could hear the gunfire.

  “Make ready to—”

  He never finished his sentence, the crack of bullets and shattering windscreen cutting off his orders. The car swerved and slammed sideways into a lamp post, throwing Craig against his seatbelt. More rounds whizzed by as he leaped from the car and took cover behind it. The other vehicle had pulled to a stop just ahead, and the team there was returning fire.

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  Up the road, a large van blocked the way. Muzzle flashes came from the edges, and he could see silhouettes moving to and fro. Shouting, Craig rallied his troops to force their way through. He remained with a small fire team by the cars, trying to provide cover fire as the others moved forward. The return fire doubled, and he heard the tires on both cars blow out as he ducked behind the frame. Seconds later, there was a roar and when he looked again the van was racing off, chased by potshots from his team.

  “Hold fire!” Craig bellowed. “Regroup, on me!”

  He gathered those of the einsatzgruppe who were uninjured, most of them fortunately, and began rapidly moving towards the grow op they had been called out to. The enemy was gone, their taillights rapidly dimming in the distance. The house was a raging inferno, and as he approached he saw a number of bodies out on the front lawn.

  “Oh thank christ!” a short-haired kid cried as they approached. “Thank fuck you’re here. They came out of nowhere man.”

  “The Terriers?” Craig asked, though he knew the answer.

  “Yeah, yeah, with the guy who can’t be killed.” The kid swallowed hard, looking on the verge of tears. “They dragged us out here and said— god they said we either leave the city or die. Rick and Matthew thought they were bluffing but then they—” A racking cough doubled him over, but Craig could put the pieces together from the two corpses on the grass alongside the three men still alive.

  “Sir, we should go,” his lieutenant, Briggs, said sharply as sirens grew louder.

  “Agreed,” Craig sighed. “Bring the survivors and the bodies, we can at least give them a proper burial.” They were too late this time, but he knew that wouldn’t always be the case.

  After all, they only had to be lucky once. Amaranth had to be lucky every time.

  “Move in!” Craig bellowed, firing a burst towards the Terriers across the street.

  His team followed his orders exactly, making methodical advances while others kept the enemies heads down. The Terriers were holed up inside a crack house, firing intermittently from the windows. His team had come from the back, but it seemed they’d been expecting that. Fortunately, their capes hadn’t come out to play, so he was on relatively even footing.

  At least, until a grenade exploded between three of his soldiers.

  “Fall back!” Craig shouted as two more plumes of earth rocketed into the air, knocking two more men to the ground. Clouds of white smoke began spreading out across the backyard, and when it reached him he coughed violently. “Gas gas gas!”

  He dropped to one knee as cries echoed his warning around him, digging into the pocket on his hip and swiftly pulling out a respirator. Craig fastened it over his face, then rose and ran towards the nearest silhouette in the gas half-blind. He found Briggs struggling into his own mask, tears streaming down his face. A shame they didn’t have proper gas masks, but at least they could breathe. Craig slapped Briggs’ shoulder to get his attention, then led him to gather the rest of the squad.

  Once they were all assembled, he led them towards the house. It was quiet now, but as they got closer he saw flickering orange light streaming through the thinning clouds of tear gas. When they got to the rear door, Craig could see the front porch in flames, though the inside just seemed to be filled with smoke.

  He didn’t hesitate, kicking in the rear door and racing inside. A quick check through the three nearest rooms was all he got before the smoke was too thick. No survivors, just a few bodies inside in no state for recovery. From what he’d seen, the house had been ransacked too. Craig got his team out, then went around the front of the house, but found an empty street with none of his people on the front lawn.

  Had the Terriers gotten into kidnapping, ransom maybe? There certainly wouldn’t have been anyone here worth anything, even for potential interrogation. No, more likely the only people here were laying dead inside their own funeral pyre. Craig led his men in retreat, nothing they could do here anymore.

  The failure weighed heavily on his mind as they drove back to their quarters. With the lack of teleportation devices, there was no way for them to respond as quick as they needed to for the Terriers’ strategy. Perhaps Krieg would authorize the use of Bifrost for their future operations. So far, the man had been kept in reserve for a potential cape strike, but with how short the engagement times were there simply hadn’t been a chance yet.

  Craig was well aware this wasn’t sustainable for Werwolf. Even when fighting the Teeth back in the day, the Empire hadn’t been keeping up a fighting pace like this. Raids were a nightly occurrence, every one of them losing men, money, and territory. When a place like this was burned out, it would take at least a week to set up a replacement, if they even got around to it.

  They needed to strike back, but the Terriers didn’t seem to hold any territory or have operations to hit. There was talk of them coming from the ghettos in the Docks, considering how they’d started by going after splinter groups there. Craig thought better of that. Amaranth was a former hero, she probably had some kind of money to set herself up in better circumstances. She certainly had enough to fund a small army…

  Still, there was no way she had the resources to destroy Werwolf. Already they had dozens of recruits coming from out of town, eager to join what was rapidly becoming a crusade. But Craig had heard rumblings of the same for their enemies, the brashness of how the Terriers operated attracting others who wanted to do the same.

  He was mildly surprised the PRT hadn’t stepped in, but Amaranth was theoretically one of their own, even if she was acting outside their rules. The weakening or outright destruction of Werwolf, and Amaranth’s own gang, was probably considered a boon to the beleaguered heroes. So long as the Terriers only hit the gang, and not civilians, they would remain untouched.

  Not for the first time this week, Craig wished for a more level playing field, like the old days. At least Coil didn’t burn out the Empire’s operations. But that just wasn’t how things were. He got out of the car when they arrived at their quarters and headed inside, stripping his combat gear and hanging it inside the armoury. He headed back to his bunk and took out his phone, sighing. Better to get it over with. Krieg picked up on the second ring.

  “Sir,” Craig said sharply. “Unfortunately, I have some bad news.”

  “Your plans seem sound enough,” Bifrost said, nodding slowly. “I believe working together would be a good idea, especially in light of the recent escalations the Terriers have made. Victor?”

  “I agree,” Victor said, making Craig’s shoulders sag with relief. “We will join you in your next counterattack, captain.”

  “Thank you sir,” Craig said, straightening up. “All we need is one good strike, and we can put them out of commission for a while. It happened at the warehouse three weeks ago, it can happen again. By the time they recover from this one, we’ll be too strong for them to handle.”

  “Let’s hope that’s the case,” Bifrost sighed. “This is starting to feel a little too much like home.”

  “I’ve never been to Germany,” Victor commented. “It’s bad?”

  “When I left, there had apparently been some kind of financial coup,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t have many details, but I believe they managed to recover somewhat. Still, the pressure is mounting, as it is here. We need to do something to push back.”

  “My men are as trained as I can get them, while being on constant notice,” Craig said. “Well motivated though, they want revenge. I do too.” Too many people he knew had died, and he was getting sick to his stomach about it.

  “We’ll have it,” Victor said confidently. “I have a weapon to deal with their leader, and we have the numbers to annihilate their little band of devils. Between the teleporting strike in their midst and the reinforcements in the cars, it will be a simple endeavour.”

  Craig could almost believe it would be, but unfortunately he knew better.

  “Come on Gruppe B let’s move it!” Craig yelled from the doorway of the ready room.

  The call had come in just seconds ago, a large raid on the biggest meth lab Werwolf had. If it was lost, that would be a huge hit to their income, to say nothing of the prestige hit. The lab had been in business since the 90s, it was what funded Empire Eighty-Eight’s rise to power, even providing cheap drugs for Medhall to undercut the competition.

  But it was also in the heart of their territory. The Terriers would be surrounded on all sides, and then have the knife of the einsatzgruppe thrust into their heart. They were well prepared, well armed, and motivated as hell. Craig just hoped that would be enough.

  His team trailed behind as he raced towards the backyard. Bifrost was waiting, a grim look on his face as he fiddled with an Uzi. Victor came out next, hefting the massive Tankgewehr that promised to kill Amaranth. Soon the squad had assembled as well, and with a crack of thunder and a drop in pressure that made Craig’s ears pop, they appeared in front of an inferno.

  “Move in!” he shouted, heart racing. “Get to co—”

  Beside him, Bifrost’s head exploded, and Craig knew they were in trouble.