"This is a mess." Kurt said bitterly, overlooking the east side of the White House from the second story of the Treasury building.

  Kantai Element had the same insertion plan as Cobra, but was dropped to the East instead of West. Beneath the Treasury Building, they were supposed to enter the the tunnels and infiltrate the White House from there. Only come to find out that the tunnel had been collapsed. Tetsu analyzed that the collapse had been caused from the other side, likely initiated by defenders to prevent its use.

  That meant they had to take the hard route: Through open terrain across Pennsylvania avenue, across the north lawn and right up to the front steps of the White House. An easy stroll through the park. Except that park was an active warzone. Gunshots and bursts of automatic fire rang out as a police cordon on the northeast corner fought desperately to maintain a coherent line of defense against a determined insurgent enemy. MRAPs and police vehicles burned or were savaged by intense incoming small arms fire.

  Bodies littered the streets and the hulks of cars burned brightly. Black smoke wafted skyward and the stench of char was thick. Only superior firepower from rooftop snipers and machinegun positions allowed the loyalist White House security forces to hold on against a foe that outnumbered them. Despite their efforts they were completely pinned. The west side had been taken by vampiric cultists and a frenzied fight was underway directly down the middle of the lawn as insurgents fought to seize control of the seat of power.

  Vespera stood nearby, hands still bound in glowing manacles designed to burn if she so much as thought about fleeing. Her crimson eyes scanned the battlefield with a predator's keen observance.

  “I fail to see how sacrificing eight lives for a camera appearance is tactical brilliance,” she said.

  “You’re not here to see. You’re here to speak,” Perelli snapped, "And even then only when I tell you to."

  He turned to the team. "I suppose there's nothing for it, gentlemen. Wilhelm, Marcus, on the flanks. Frames, Tetsu and Chennault, front wedge. Weber, I want you shadowing our rear. Kurt, Milo, Waters, you’re on overwatch. Tora stay with Vespera. You stay centerline. If she bolts, shoot her. If she turns, shoot her."

  “I’m right here, you know,” Vespera muttered.

  “And you’re not trusted,” Kurt replied, chambering a round.

  Perelli finished, "Alright, haul ass, shoot fast. Don't stop until we're through the front door. DO NOT engage Secret Service or Capitol Police. If they draw on you, take one for the team." He looked at each of them. "Tooth and nail, Rifles."

  They breached from the side stairwell at a dead sprint, spilling into the open street. Gunfire greeted them instantly. Sharp cracks and whistling of ricochets off Wilhelm’s assault armor filled the air. He responded with a ferocious roar, firing his rotary grenade launcher across the avenue. The explosion hurled a half-dozen cultists into the air, limbs flailing. He interspersed his barrage with smoke rounds, creating a thick cloud of white smog that quickly carpeted the battlefield.

  They sprinted across the smoking no-man’s land, darting between wrecked cruisers and dead men’s barricades. Marcus laid down suppressive fire with his light machine gun, sweeping through windows and doors where muzzle flashes strobed. Chennault, the new frame, leapt over the line and began tanking shots from snipers nests, bodyguarding the element.

  A cultist broke from cover with a machete and molotov cocktail in hand, charging directly at Perelli.

  Perelli instinctively turned, gun raised, but he wasn’t fast enough.

  Vespera moved in a blur, catching the attacker mid-lunge. Her fangs flashed, but she didn’t bite. Instead, she drove her chained hands into his chest, shattering his ribs with casual brutality. She moved in a blur and before Perelli could blink, the cultist was on the ground. The body dropped at his feet. The ruptured incendiary cocktail splattered over the body.

  He met her eyes. A strained “Thanks.” managed to force its way from between his lips.

  “I do nothing for free,” she hissed, not breaking her stride forwards. The words carried sinister implication.

  They pushed through the ruins of the north lawn gate, the shadow of the White House looming closer. But the closer they got, the more frenzied the enemy became. Cultists, many in tattered black robes, surged from the hedgerows and ornamental gardens. Some carried guns. Most didn’t. They were high on bloodlust, shrieking praises to the Black Sun. Interspersed among them were thralls, barking orders.

  Waters went down to a lucky shot; taking an armor-piercing round straight through the visor. Weber caught his falling form and dragged his body back while Wilhelm lit the enemy up with white phosphor grenades.

  Tetsus sensors gave him early warning of a flanking force sweeping around the East Colonnade. They would be caught in a pincer if they hesitated.

  “Break left! THROUGH THE FOUNTAIN!” Perelli ordered, urgent but steeled.

  Chennault charged ahead, clearing the way. The ground erupted around them as a heavy machine gun dug into the press briefing garden opened up. Perelli saw the muzzle flare, turned to shove Vespera down and took the round to the shoulder instead. Tora was quick to recognize the machinegun as loyalists and he popped off a smoke grenade in front of them, then followed it up with a flashbang to disorient the crew.

  Perelli grunted, the armor stopping the round, but transmitting the blunt force trauma all the way down to his bones and knocking him down. Vespera stared at him, her expression one of stunned silence.

  Perelli shrugged it off, the pain transmitting through his entire arm.

  “Don’t just stand there,” he grunted. “Fucking run.” He allowed himself a rare curse.

  She hesitated. And then, slowly, her hand wrapped around his forearm. She pulled him to his feet, even as another round cracked past her ear.

  They made it to the South Portico steps with Wilhelm and Marcus battering through cultist resistance with brute force. Weber tossed a breaching charge at the front doors as Kurt fired his last mag into a line of fanatics charging the northeast corner.

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  Overall, their charge had had a positive effect on the battle. The defenders were brought precious breathing room and a cultist charge was placed off kilter.

  “Charges set!” Weber yelled. “Brace!”

  But just before he could press the trigger, the doors opened. He frantically safed the device.

  A suited figure with a P90 at low-ready poked out. "Inside." He told them sternly.

  Kantai Element was escorted through a barricade erected in the White House foyer. Secret Service agents, most in tactical armor, but some still in black suits manned the doors, keeping their weapons pointed ahead. They were in various states on tactical dress, indicating the situation inside had devolved rapidly when it started. The only thing they all had in common was a white cloth tied around their left shoulder. They all regarded the Vanguard troopers warily, but didn't raise their weapons. The Rifles did the same. The stature of the fully plated Vanguard force dwarfed the beleaguered defenders.

  The back of the large room and the stairs that ascended to the first floor were blocked off. The security forces here were laser focused on their sectors of fire. It quickly became apparent to Perelli that this was a pocket of resistance and they didn't have control of the building.

  An agent approached, evidently the man in charge. His suit was disheveled but despite the combat going on around them, his dark shades were in perfect condition. Soot and burns marred his face. He had clearly had a long day.

  "You guys are Vanguard?" He asked.

  Kurt, who had found himself at the front of the formation answered. "Yes."

  Because he was at the front and middle of the gaggle of troopers, he must have looked like the highest ranking member. As soon as he said "yes", one of the agents turned at fired on him with his pistol. The pistol-caliber round pinged off the side of his helmet.

  The traitor stood up and yelled, articulating some defiant slogan. Before he got two words out and before any of the Rifles could react, another agent shot the traitor and his body crumpled from its place on the barricade.

  The situation immediately grew chaotic with the Vanguard troopers quickly forming a tight circle with guns pointed outward. The defenders began to swing their muzzles onto Kantai but were stopped short by a yell from the senior agent.

  "Everybody hold your fire!" He shouted at the top of his lungs.

  Perelli kept his HR-15 leveled at the disheveled agents chest, an intense Mexican standoff formed. Muzzles swept over targets, profiling and categorizing threats. The Ensign didn't see intent to kill in the eyes of the surrounding agents. They looked tired. Some weren't even focused on his troops, but instead gazed disdainfully upon the fallen traitor.

  The senior agent held his hands up and said with as much sincerity as he could muster, "We're not the enemy. We've been dealing with infiltrators like that all day." He nodded towards the dead would-be assassin.

  "Kurt, you good?" Perelli asked, not yet lowering his weapon.

  The R3C had shrugged off the impact pretty quickly. "I'm alright." He said, then muttered, "Rang my bell pretty good, though."

  Perelli lowered his HR-15. "Guns down." He ordered. The rest of Kantai quickly followed.

  The senior agent explained, "We saw you guys coming. Sorry for the friendly fire, our comms are down and the cops outside have been instructed to shoot at anything that moves. I'm agent Hartman, I'm in charge here. You're here to help?"

  "Sort of. We're here to escort an asset to your media room. We need to send out an emergency broadcast. Nationwide." He gestured to Vespera. "She's gonna tell them to stop fighting."

  The agent regarded the vampire skeptically. The rest of the agents became ill-at-ease at her presence.

  A burst of muffled automatic fire reverberated through the walls from upstairs.

  "Not exactly what I wanted to hear." the agent said, glancing upward. "We don't have control of the building. POTUS is pinned in the Oval House. We've been trying to break out and conduct a rescue, but this building is lousy with cultists and traitors. What you see here, we're it. Everything beyond this room is enemy territory." He gestured around him.

  "There's a fifteen man team on its way. They're using the tunnels. Their mission is to rescue your President."

  The agent sucked in air through his teeth. "The tunnels are how they managed to collapse our defenses and take the west side. If your friends are coming, they're probably meeting fiercer resistance than you did outside."

  Perelli frowned. If Cobra hadn't pushed through yet, then they were bogged down. He couldn't just stand around and wait for them, but Kantai element was already quite small, and he had taken a casualty. If he split up and pursued both objectives, he'd risk being cutdown piecemeal.

  "Do you have control of the roof?" He asked.

  The agent nodded. "Friendlies control it, but it's inaccessible."

  Cogs turned in the junior officer's head. He turned to Weber. "I'll take Alpha team and the asset." asset referred to Vespera "We'll pursue our original mission. Chief, take the assault troopers and Chennault. You've done vertical assaults before?" He asked the NCO.

  Weber looked confused at first, but caught his officer's meaning. Then he realized how risky it would be. "I have enough breaching charges to make it work. We'll be exposed as we ascend the outer walls, but the assault troopers can keep the enemy pinned while we work. Chennault can bodyguard the POTUS. We'll need our exfil to be on station when we start, however. It'll have to be a fast smash n' grab."

  Terra Vanguard Mobile Command Center

  Tambor watched the conference room display shift to a live shot of the White House. He didn't used to have nervous habits, but now he found himself strumming his fingers on the table just a little bit too quickly to be taken for idle fidgeting.

  Communications were down. He didn't even have contact with Whirlwind, who was on the ground. The silver lining was that the command and control suite on the jet was exceptionally well resourced. If they didn't have Vanguard networks like the battlenet available, then they could easily tap into other simpler radio communication methods. Right now that amounted to the police network and a few isolated military channels. None of it was of much use. The channels were cluttered with junk traffic.

  The MCC's ability to be an ISR platform was also quite good and through its external optics he could see Whirlwind make their insertion.

  It was a brilliant plan. Except Federov had clearly been working on limited information. If he only had a radio, Tambor could have warned him that the tunnels were compromised, either collapsed or under hostile control. Now, the Striker-Commander and his team had been pinned down in a subterranean tunnel fight hell.

  The other element was of particular interest, however. Before comms had gone down Tambor had the opportunity to be filled in on everything that had happened in Texas. The Junior Officer at the head of this element was the same that had been rendered unconscious by the necrologic pillar. According to the Rifle, his mind was invaded by the Black Sun and he had been given help from an angel to defeat it. There was only one angel that could be.

  And if that didn't peak his interest enough, this same Rifle was at the center of the botched L.A operation. Tambor recalled he almost had his soul sucked out by the cascade but didn't suffer any negative consequences.

  It was all exceptionally interesting. He very much wanted to see that Rifle alive. Though mostly because he wanted to know what Checkmate told him. Anything, to help clear up the mystery of the angel, the Black Sun or even himself for that matter.

  Now he watched them charge across an open battlefield to get to their objective and nearly die in the process. His breath caught in his lungs, watching that officer almost go down twice.

  He bit his knuckle, unable to continue to standby and watch. He turned off the display and turned around to go and locate Camila, only to find his loyal Lieutenant standing directly behind him. She held a parachute pack, being so adept at her job that she might as well have read his thoughts. She was also wearing one herself.

  "I have a four-man team standing by. All security personnel. Not ideal, but they volunteered. Pilot is bringing us around for a jump now. I recommend putting on your good armor." She told him.

  Tambor smiled and took the parachute.