But I swear to the Gods above if anyone tries to radio in an air strike, I will put a bullet between their eyes in order to save the people of this town. And that, my dear, is the greater good.”

And with her words, a crashing sense of realism came down on Alicia, squashing any desire to be with a woman whom she had only moments before considered to be so desirable.             

“Well said.” Sheriff Austin replied, entering the room as Nadia and Alicia remained involved in a stare of ill intent.

“I just risked everything to help you people, and you're back here talking about killing the citizens of New Kinneston,” Austin said, looking at Alicia. “That's kind of tacky.”

Nadia wanted to continue her stare, she honestly did, but instead she found herself laughing a bit before turning to Austin. “You're kind of funny, you know that?”

“Just be glad we didn't meet at the Moose Lodge,” he said with a grin. “And when I don't have Ancients trying to kill me...there's always that too.”

 

“My Templar, should we continue our assault on Washington City?” an Ancient warrior asked, his extensive hair length an indication of both age and experience.

“Yes. But we will leave a team of Butchers behind, and they are to remain in New Kinneston.” the Templar replied. “Have them sweep through the town, and should they find any Resistance soldiers, kill everyone with a heartbeat.”

The Templar had knotted locks of gray falling down his back, piercing eyes of orange and a thin frame compared to most of those who fought under his command.

However, he carried two things that signified his authority among the Ancients. A reflective orange sidearm, which was semi-automatic but possessed a punishing amount of power; also a tattoo of black which was branded into his forehead.

Unlike Humanity's military system, the Ancients kept rank. Once proving themselves on a battlefield, they were judged based upon their leadership skills, ability to slay and precision when doing both.

After the Ancient Council determined a soldier's worth, they were branded to signify rank. Most soldiers carried a simple brand of tribal design on the right shoulder. However, Commanders were few and far between, easily recognized by that imprinting of flesh on the forehead.

And then there were the Butchers. They wore banded armor around their torso, though a large spot in the sternum area was open, a spot that revealed their branding. They had no hair to speak of, their scalps shaven to a shine of gray, with occasional scarring also finding its home there. Elongated bottom jaw teeth rose from their mouths, giving the illusion of fangs from a distance, as their shimmer-orange eyes looked almost like those during a possession of a demonic variety.

Lastly, they had huge blades strapped to their backs. Very crude, the blades had a rigid edge that, in most cases, seemed to cut like a set of teeth. Simply put, they were a larger version on the man-chete. And though the massive amount of arm strength that a Butcher could pull from usually cut its victim in half, at times it didn't, in which case they could pull the blade back to them, ripping out large bits of flesh and vital organ in doing so.

“Yes my Templar!” the soldier said, turning to execute his order.

“And have them monitor all radio traffic. We picked up a transmission less than one hour ago, it was Resistance coded and requested an air strike of this very town.” the Templar added.

“My Templar?” the soldier asked.

“The Resistance is here, I know it. Have the Butchers locate them, and spare no expense in doing so.” he replied, bone white teeth gritting roughly.

“At once my Templar.” the Ancient soldier replied.

And with that, several minutes passed as the Templar stood silent, his eyes skimming the surrounding buildings of New Kinneston. He wanted nothing more than to remain behind himself to find the Resistance fighters being harbored by the town. Murder everyone involved and then torch the city on his way out.

But, unfortunately for him, he was under strict orders from the Ancient Council. Sack Washington City at any cost. He had roughly six-thousand star-born beasts under his command, each with a hate for the Human race that knew few boundaries. Each was well experienced, well versed in the art of war and well aware that failure was not an option.

 

And though it took nearly thirty minutes, the entire Ancient Division headed out, most on foot while a few of the higher ranking demons did so by way of armored vehicles.

“Thought those bastards would never leave.” G said, turning to rejoin the rest of his group.

“Not all of them left,” Austin said as he entered the rear of the Sheriff's Office. “They left four behind.”

“Four? That's it?” G asked.

“Yea, but they are Butchers from the look of 'em.” Calypso replied.

With his words, everyone stood to their feet, each knowing the dangers associated with such a powerful unit. Certes slowly removed his hood, no longer needing to remain hidden. The town had made its choice from the lips of Sheriff Austin Garrett; for better or for worse.

“I overheard the Templar say they picked up radio traffic requesting a Resistance air strike.” Austin said.

“You bitch.” Nadia said, quickly pulling her sidearm.

Though it would do no good, her draw just a bit slower than that of Alicia, who held a weapon of her own in Nadia's direction.

“Don't worry, I didn't have time to call it in. Remember?” Alicia said, her pistol hand steadily waiting. “Now I'm going to give you just a moment to compute that, at which time you either back down, bitch, or I'll bury you.”

Nadia wanted to pin it all on Alicia, she honestly did. Sexual desires aside, they had gotten off on the wrong foot in their first meeting, and hated one another with passion since.