FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I Hope your holiday preparations are going well, folks! I'm pecking away at these chapters slowly but surely, and so far, it's going well. At least, in my opinion! Thank you so much for all the positive messages and comments from the last chapter. It warms my heart every time a notification pops up on my phone.

Also, it's no secret to any of you that have been around for a hot minute and know me, that I LOVE Mi-24 helicopter gunships. They're literally my fav. You'll get to see one in this chapter.

Have a video! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4JhkjtCnVQ

Also, the same warning applies with the last chapter. War violence, dark subject matter, etc.

Consider yourselves warned.

Also, tell me in the comments who your favorite characters are and why! I've gotten several messages about it, and I'm curious as to what everyone else thinks.

Anyways, without further delay…

Enjoy!

++++++

On the Banks of the River Haidenaab, Pressath, Germany

_ June 25th, 2011 2223 local_

_ Staff Sergeant Danielle Austin_

_ Designated Marksman, Lucky Seven-Seven_

Staff Sergeant Danielle Austin “Texas" was no stranger to the outdoors, especially when it came to hunting. She'd spent many a season in the woods on her parent's farm in upstate New York, her grandfather's weathered old 1963 Remington 700 clutched in her freezing cold hands. She'd taken many deer with that old rifle, stocking their fridge with venison every season. The rifle that she carried now was a lot different from grandad's Remington, and the prey was a lot different from the deer she'd chased and tracked in her youth.

The M39 Enhanced Marksman Rifle was a beautiful weapon. Manufactured by Sage International, the M39 was a derivative of the proven M14 service rifle that had served faithfully since the Vietnam war, with a few functional and reliability changes since. Atop the rifle sat a Schmidt Bender Police Marksman II scope, with a variable zoom between three and twelve power. Colloquially known by the military supply system as the M8541 Scout Sniper Day Scope, it had proven itself in Danielle's hands both on the range, and more recently, in combat.

“I'd rather be deer hunting." She muttered to herself, slipping stealthily through the thick underbrush as fast as her 6'1" frame would allow. She slid a strand of unruly brunette hair out of her line of sight, tucking it back behind the Peltor headset that was attached to her helmet. Through the noise amplification of the headgear, she could hear Elisa's quiet breathing from directly to her left, over the noise of the slowly running water of the river. A slow head turn confirmed her partner's position.

The raptor turned to look at the sergeant, tilting her head in confusion as she heard her whisper. Danielle chuckled quietly as she caught her gaze, earning a less than pleased warble from the female Utahraptor.

Elisa was average sized, about the middle of the road as far as the raptors in Lucky Seven-Seven went. Her brown hide was a little lighter than that of her comrades, a pattern that the scientists referred to as 'arid' but everyone else referred to as tan. That being said, it was a very dark, almost coyote tan. The distinctive raptor 'tiger' stripes ran along her back as well, a feature that every RSH raptor shared.

“Don't look at me like that, Texas." Elisa said quietly to her guardian, her whip-like tail flicking quietly behind her. Her neck curled up into the shape of an S, eyes as indignant as she could manage while still staying on alert for anything that may harm them.

“You started it. And you know I'm not from Texas." Danielle responded, sticking out her tongue at the raptor's offended look, causing her partner to roll those big, expressive amber eyes of hers. What exactly the raptor had started, neither of them could begin to guess, but it was the principle that drove Austin. Danielle always made it a habit to rile up her partner, and sometimes, it was too easy.

The sass that Ellie possessed on the average day made sure of that. She definitely had the most humanlike personality of the pack, and it showed.

“So you keep telling me. Don't make me leave you for dead out here." The raptor whispered, bringing her face close to Austin's with an evil glare.

“Don't threaten me with a good time." The human replied, pushing her snout away with a gloved hand, earning another indignant warble as Ellie went back to her proper position on Danielle's flank. Her nickname had originated from her last name when she'd first joined Lucky Seven. Alcohol may or may not have been a factor.

She'd given up fighting it long ago.

Despite having an ego larger than both Adine's and Reuben's size put together, there was no other raptor that Texas would want to have at her side. The raptor was calculatingly smart, and scarily stealthy compared to the other pack raptors, save maybe for Angel. She sported a devil-may-care attitude that was both laughable and terrifying, depending on which end of the incident that one was on.

“Star to Texas, we're in position on the north side of GW street, near the gas station. Not much patrol activity out here, and everything is lit up. They must not be too worried about any attacks." Her radio crackled, letting her know that their sister pair was in position on the south side of town.

“Roger Star, keep to the plan, stay safe, and stay quiet. Bug out if you run into trouble. We're kicking off in one mike." Danielle responded, listening to the acknowledgement from her sister element.

They'd made the trek back towards the Russian Garrison at Pressath throughout the day, moving slowly and quietly so as not to be spotted by Russian patrols. Enemy presence that day had been lighter than expected, concentrated around the towns and villages and leaving the back country largely untouched. They'd skirted around a patrol that had been sweeping along the road to Weihersberg, moving north from Pressath, but that was the only one they'd had to actively avoid.

They'd heard talk amongst the Russians as they passed through the wooded area in which they were hiding. The American and German Resistance at Grafenwöhr had been crushed early that morning, and no more Americans were thought to have made it out. Helicopters were monitoring the southern woods, just in case, but they'd likely be headed west that afternoon to support the 12th Guards Tank Army on the push towards Nuremburg and Munich.

Their mission, self-planned and self-assigned, was to hit the Russians responsible for hurting their Commander, Jacob “Six" Dixon, the night prior. The intel they'd gleaned from Angel had mentioned that a Spetsnaz patrol had attacked them in the woods just north of Grafenwöhr, so they were especially looking for soldiers carrying advanced weaponry, or wearing patches featuring a stylized bat. Angel had been specific about the last bit, remembering their patch with a slight shudder that she had thought she'd hidden well. It was them they wanted the most, without question.

“You ready, Ellie?" Danielle asked, checking once again that her suppressor was securely affixed to her M9 Beretta sidearm. Her M39 was slung securely across her chest, resting comfortably on a convertible three-point sling with the stock collapsed in. On her back, her assault pack was loaded with all kinds of mischief in the form of high explosives, and she had a few targets in mind for where to put them.

“Yeah, let's do it."

Elisa and Danielle crept from the woods, splitting up as soon as they reached the edge of the shadow cast by the streetlights, blocked by a small number of vacant civilian houses. Their doors stood open, dark entryways like gaping mouths as Texas slid past them. She peeked around the corner of a large brick house, catching sight of her first target.

The large, red and white sign of one of the ever-present Avia gas stations burned bright against the darkened sky. A Russian Ural sat underneath the overhead canopy facing north, it's hood up and the driver crouched over the engine. He motioned for another man in the cab to try and start, only to have the metallic grind of the vehicle starter echo forth. The soldier that was on the front hopped off and headed towards the attached garage of the fueling station with a loud curse.

Texas took the opportunity and moved, jogging across the road at a crouch, her M9 gripped in both hands and held at the low ready. Her footfalls on the pavement were quiet, her tan Altama brand jungle boots cushioning each step as she vaulted onto the short concrete curb divider next to the cab of the Russian Ural, raising her pistol and squeezing the trigger as soon as the Russian soldier inside picked his head back up.

The pistol in her hands bucked lightly, the ugly snap of the 124 grain 9mm round coming only a split second before it contacted the soldier's head, filling the inside of the truck cab with red mist. Danielle felt the powder residue on her face almost before she smelled it, the chamber of her already black M9 covered with the dull gray carbon ash of a spent round.

In case I needed a reminder of why I hate suppressors. Too damn dirty.

The staff sergeant advanced, checking her left and right one more time to make sure that she hadn't inadvertently alerted any enemy soldiers with her surprise. She caught the shadow of Elisa moving out of the garage, blood fresh on her forepaws and a predatory glint in her amber eyes. The gaze watched her for a moment, an eerie glow just at the edge of the gas station's LED lights, before she spun and moved to the fill hatches for the underground fuel tanks. The raptor's forepaw claws slid perfectly through the holes on the large square covers, pulling them up and sliding them over so that her human could gain easy access to the underground storage tanks.

“Thanks, Ellie. Go cause some trouble. You've got fifteen minutes." Danielle whispered, bending down by the uncovered fill ports, unslinging her assault pack and setting her pistol to the side.

“I'll be close. If you get into trouble, call me." Elisa said just as quietly before turning and stalking off at a quick jog.

Danielle opened the main pocket of the assault pack, grabbing one of the large cardboard tubes that held a standard M67 Fragmentation grenade and setting it aside, opting instead for the two three-block C-4 explosive charges that she'd brought from their limited supply at the Castle. She reached down, placing a charge each on the diesel and gasoline tank respectively. She'd taken the time before they'd left to prepare the charges, cutting the standard, time-delay fuse to the proper length for fifteen minutes before taping it all together. All they needed now was for her to pull the pin, which she immediately did on both.

“Fifteen minutes on the charges. Starting the clock now." She announced over the radio.

With another quick motion, she took the cardboard tube off the M67 frag grenade, dropping the dunnage into the hole before sliding the cover back on as quietly as she could. The safety clasp on the spoon was already removed, replaced by a wrap of black electrical tape. The soldier moved back to the Russian truck, popping the release on the fuel cap. She let it fall on its chain before pulling the pin on the grenade and dropping it into the full tank of diesel. Danielle recapped the tank and slinked off, out from under the high-power LEDs that she'd already lingered in far longer than she was comfortable. She didn't stop until she was around the corner of the next house.

It wouldn't take long for the fuel to eat through the tape's adhesive.

++++++

In downtown Pressath, Germany

June 25th, 2011 2227 Local

Staff Sergeant Madison Woods

Rifleman, Pack Lucky 7-7

Staff Sergeant Madison Woods, aka “Porn Star", wished that she'd had the time to visit the countryside before the war had started in earnest, but alas, it was a little too late for that. An accomplished marathon runner, she had held out hope that she'd be able to participate in the Elstertal run that had been scheduled to take place that September, but with the arrival of the Russians, she knew that was now a pipe dream. Even if they left tomorrow, the area would not be the same for a long time to come. The lines of burned civilian vehicles that they'd passed on the way in serving as a stark reminder to that.

The threat of war had hung over the area for several months, ever since the reintegration of the former Czech Republic back into the New Soviet Union through a landslide election. Having been hit by the aftereffects of the mass starvation and crop deaths that had originated in Russia, it was only a matter of time before the massive material stockpiles of the New Soviet armed forces saved them as well. And thus, the process that had taken most of the former Soviet states repeated itself once again.

As a result, a buildup of troops had begun on Germany's borders the likes of which hadn't been seen since the cold war. When she was first assigned to Lucky Seven-Seven those few short months ago, they'd spent the majority of it training, conducting night operations and testing, and getting to know what was now their operational territory.

She'd taken a pass opportunity and spent a night in Friedenfels less than two weeks before, the local Weissbier and a local to warm her bed had been the highlight of her time spent in Thuringia so far. Her accommodations were in a lovely, three-story Gasthof that was now a smoking crater, levelled by New Soviet rocket artillery on the night of the war, much like the rest of Friedenfels. Those rockets had come from just across the border in what was now Occupied Czechoslovakia.

As much fun as she had that night, she couldn't help but miss her pack. Even when she could forget her duties as a non-commissioned officer, not to mention her charge, it wasn't the same without hearing the frequent chatter that was their camp.

No matter if it was Six telling some crazy story, Elisa fucking with Austin, Austin fucking with Elisa, or the off-key country singing of Reuben in that always funnier-than-it-should-be Tennessee accent, she missed it. Not to mention the soft breaths of her partner, a male Utahraptor named Fox, as he slept next to her. She'd missed that most of all. The feeling of safety when she was asleep next to him was unparalleled to any that she'd ever felt before, and she knew that his amber eyes were always watching out for the pack.

And always watching out for her.

That same pack had coined her call sign after having one two many alcoholic beverages in camp, leaving her with the moniker of “Porn Star". The men had found that outrageously funny, and much to her chagrin, assured her that Madison Woods was a porn actress. The second bout of laughter came after the Utahraptors had gotten wind of it, and had to be told what exactly pornography was, and why Madison Woods was indeed a porn name.

Needless to say, it stuck. And, in a part of Madison that she wouldn't admit, she was proud of it. Just as she knew all her compatriots were proud of their own monikers. It was, after all, a military tradition that dated back many years.

All good things must come to an end, however.

Since the night of the war, the whole pack had been separated, off doing missions that nobody had assigned, because they were just as surprised as everyone else whether they admitted it or not. A half hour's warning was all any NATO forces had before the Russians started raining from the heavens. Most units that were in the field were understrength as soldiers cycled on leave for the fourth of July holiday, a move that was not considered troublesome due to a massive military exercise taking place in central Russia that same week. It wasn't until the paratroopers started dropping that the command for the German theater realized that said exercise hadn't existed at all.

She missed the nights they'd spend together as a group, and with Six wounded, and Angel distraught, not leaving his side, the reality of their situation finally hit home for the members of Lucky Seven-Seven. The scenario that they'd hoped would never come to pass, did indeed, and they were right in the middle of it.

Their beautiful Thuringia was overtaken by death.

Tonight, they were on a mission of retribution, looking to contribute a little more to the death that had overtaken their territory. Nobody hurt their team leader and got away with it, especially if Danielle and Madison had anything to say on the matter.

“You going after the party, Star?" Fox's masculine voice came over her radio, making her shift her gaze to where he was standing just shy of the post office. A pair of Russian Sentries lay dead at his feet, having been pounced out of the darkness by a horror that they could not even begin to comprehend. She ignored the shine of blood on her partner's claws as she keyed the radio.

“Yeah, I am. Gonna try and go around the back and find a gas meter or something. I've got one charge left, so we're gonna make this count." She responded, giving him a thumbs up as she advanced up the street. They'd left a few similar presents for them at the town's other gas station, and that would ensure the maximum amount of disarray and panic when they did cook off.

She laughed to herself as she swept her suppressed M4A1 over darkened windows, watching as the dim green chevron on her rifle's Trijicon RMR sight traced a haunting pattern in the dark. The reflex optic, attached to the top of her 3.5x35mm ACOG scope, was a godsend in the tight quarters of the village. She'd tested it on a lone sentry that had been enjoying a cigarette outside the looted ruins of an electronics store, and it had worked just as it had dozens of times on the range.

She made her way up the narrow thoroughfare, following the sounds of what seemed to be a boisterous celebration coming from just down the block. The security in the village had been lighter than normal, something that had surprised the two pairs as they'd watched the village in fading daylight. The lights were on in a few buildings, and only a few token sentries patrolled the streets. It wasn't like a disciplined enemy, as the Russians had proven themselves to be, to be so…lax.

The Russians were confident that they'd destroyed the last of the troops from Grafenwöhr, but they weren't counting on Lucky Seven-Seven right in their back yard.

Woods peeked around another corner, immediately startling at the sight of an Mi-24 Hind Gunship sitting in the tight clearing, four men standing around it with weapons at the ready. The heavily armored gunship sat quietly, pilot and gunner sitting in the aircraft but with the bubble-like cockpit windows open. The ominous, iconic Russian camouflage and Red Star stuck out in the pale light of the waning moon, blackened only by soot from the machine's massive exhaust ports.

The men that surrounded the helicopter were different from the rest of the troops they'd seen in the village, dark colored bandanas on their heads, with AN-94 rifles clutched in leather-clad hands. Their camouflage pattern was also different, looking like brown leaves on a light green background. She ducked out of sight as she made note of the night vision devices present on each of their heads, ducking back behind the building.

“Fox, I've got some kind of security detail on a helicopter back here. Mean looking motherfuckers. Gonna see what happens. Be ready to bug out if shit gets loud." She whispered into her radio, two clicks acknowledging her report, but adding nothing further.

The NCO mentally kicked herself. They'd observed the village for over an hour before it got dark, and they'd not seen anything to announce that helicopter's presence. If they'd fucked up and started the party too early, it would have annihilated them without much effort. She hadn't been blind to the massive amounts of ordnance that had been hung under its wings, everything from guided anti-tank missiles, to upwards of 128 unguided fire-and-forget rockets in underslung pods. That's not even mentioning the .50 caliber rotary cannon on the front, and it's associated thermal optics.

The presence of said gunship here was…odd, to say the least. The one thing they'd been thankful for over the last few days, save Angel and Six's return, was the absence of Russian helicopter support. In fact, the only rotary-wing flying machines that they'd seen had been some of the bulbus Mi-17 transports, all headed west.

Regardless of the reasons for the machine's presence, Madison knew that she had to do something, and quick. Catching one of the Soviet flying tanks on the ground was too good an opportunity to pass up. She had to make sure it would never fly again.

Or die trying.

Quiet talking from the left distracted her before she could make her move, two more soldiers joining the group from nearer to the party. They spoke in hushed tones, but Madison didn't need the green sun of her night vision or the moon to tell her that one of them was a senior officer, the bars on his unarmored uniform top occasionally catching just the right amount of ambient light to shine. She couldn't tell about the man next to him.

She brought her weapon to bear from the edge of the building, tracing her RMR's green chevron towards the officer. The whirring of a fuel pump from the helicopter made her hesitate, and she watched as flames flared from a small exhaust port on the back of the machine, followed by the whine of the gunship's turbine APU.

They were getting ready for takeoff!

The sergeant readjusted her point of aim, watching as the Mi-24's gunner jumped out of his seat at the front of the aircraft. The man, clad in the olive-green coveralls common of Russian pilots, bent down near the helicopter's 12.7mm rotary gun turret, pulling off what appeared to be a daylight lens cover. She squeezed the trigger on her rifle as the chevron centered on the back of his head, dropping the man forwards like he'd been struck by a high-flying baseball.

The smudge of back-blast propellant from her suppressor had barely spattered on her face before she shifted once more, putting a round through the pilot's flight helmet. The man slumped over, the noise of the spinning APU covering the sharp snap of the suppressed 5.56mm NATO round as it entered the right side of his skull.

Her rifle moved again, this time placing the sight's tritium-illuminated reticle on the forehead of the officer, squeezing the trigger quickly and watching the puff of her shot strike him dead center. She quickly repeated the process on the other man, who was opening his mouth to shout, but the gunship's whining APU drowned out any sound that echoed forth. He fell by the other officer's side, and that's when one of the guards noticed the strobing spark of her shot against the green sun of his night vision.

The man's AN-94 came up quicker than she expected, the 5.45mm barrel appearing like a cannon in her vision as she flipped her selector to fully automatic, squeezing the trigger and striking the man with four rounds in his upper torso before he could fire. She swept the barrel to the other three, taking advantage of their close grouping to land similarly placed shots on their heads as if they were popup targets on the range.

The soldiers dropped just as the helicopter's APU aborted and shut down with a puff of white smoke, having not received the command from the pilot to start the machine's twin TV3-117 turbines. The whole engagement lasted less than fifteen seconds, from the time she'd fired her first shot, to the time her M4's bolt locked to the rear on an empty magazine. She quickly changed it, dropping the spent one and locking a fresh one home, rifle scanning for more targets that hadn't yet appeared. Nobody seemed to have noticed the helicopter's aborted start, or if they had, didn't feel it necessary to investigate.

“Ruthless shooting, Madison. You're clear to move up. We've got five minutes until Texas' charges go and all hell breaks loose." Foxy's deep voice echoed over her headset, a smile gracing her mouth as she moved forwards. Once again, the comforting presence of her protector blanketing her mind.

She moved forwards under Fox's watchful gaze, sweeping the rifle over the fallen men as she approached the helicopter, checking the open cargo compartment for anyone that may be playing possum on her. Finding nobody, she moved towards the Russian beast with her weapon at the high ready, the green ghost lines traced in her sights ever present. Reaching the helicopter, she climbed up the awkward steps so that she was level with the pilot's seat, pulling the pin on an M67 fragmentation grenade and placing it behind the man before pushing his body back on it, holding the safety spoon in place. If her pending improvised building demolition didn't damage the helicopter, then a grenade detonation in its heavily armored cockpit definitely would.

Satisfied, Woods dropped off the helicopter and stooped down by the officer that she had killed at the onset of the engagement, rifling through his pockets like an experienced thief. She found a wallet, which she pocketed, but found no other documents on his person, much to her disappointment.

“You short on cash?" Foxy's snarky whisper came from next to her as the male joined her in the courtyard, earning an eyeroll as she ripped off one of the dead man's three-starred shoulder boards that identified him as a colonel. She didn't pay any mind to the escorts, as they didn't have any patches, and were almost guaranteed not to have any identifying documents on them.

She couldn't help but wonder if this guy had been important enough to warrant his own personal security detail, but the helicopter told her that he was. It was a shame that he didn't have a briefcase on him, or anything similar that she could loot

The other officer was but a lieutenant she saw. His uniform markings were all in the sky blue of the airborne forces, and likewise, he didn't have anything of note on him, but she took his wallet and one of his shoulder boards as well.

Satisfied with the intel collection, she moved away from the helicopter to the rear of the building, finding the massive gray gas meters after a brief search. She dropped her assault pack, grabbing the last remaining three-brick C4 charge before placing it on the back of the meter assembly. Reaching back to arm it, she was interrupted by the rear door of the building swinging open with a loud slam, forcing the sergeant to swing around behind the meter and out of sight.

A Russian soldier stumbled out of the building, a loud belch echoing even over the sound of boisterous singing inside. He didn't notice the dead men that lay just on the edge of the shadow of light cast from the doorway, more concerned with fumbling with the fly of his uniform trousers. She heard the spatter of liquid as the man relieved himself, followed by the sickening crunch as Foxy grabbed the man in his jaws, crunching off the strangled cry with a sharp bite and a toss to the side. He made eye contact with Madison a moment after, the light from the doors making his amber eyes shine with devilish light. Blood ran down his jaws and dripped on the once-clean concrete of the back patio, no doubt from the man's ruptured jugular.

Could've at least let him finish. She thought to herself.

“Well, that's about the most horrifying thing I've ever seen." Madison muttered, coming out from her hiding place and reaching her hand back to the explosive. She armed it with a solid click, the clacker detonator safely pinned in her pocket for when their own party got started. As soon as Danielle's charges went, she'd trigger her own.

“Hey, bloodbath, I need your teeth here for a second." Woods called, waving the male over to where she stood. He obeyed without question, avoiding the light as he moved to stand in front of her. She pointed the main supply pipe for the gas meter to him.

“Hold your breath and twist this pipe off. Then, run away as fast as you fucking can! Don't breathe until you're away from it." She ordered, making a twisting motion with her hands.

The raptor nodded his understanding, taking a deep breath before closing off his lungs and bringing his powerful jaws to the pipe. He bit down on the metal and twisted his strong neck, several thousand pounds of bite force rending the metal like butter. The instant acrid taste of sulfur odorant hit his tongue, making the male recoil and pivot on his heels. He ran behind the blurry form of Madison, breathing only when his tail cleared the square. The sulfur taste in his mouth made him heave, but he didn't slow his pace as they beat feet out of dodge. He didn't stick around to see the gas moving in through the open door of the building's kitchen.

“Texas, clear of objective." Danielle's voice announced over their radio as they broke into open ground just past the post office, bounding over the railroad tracks and jumping down into the shallow edge of the river, giving them cover from the mayhem that was about to let loose behind them.

“Star and Foxy, clear!" Woods announced on the radio, bringing her rifle around to cover their rear. They slowly moved around the slight bend of the river, away from the road bridge on the south side of town. They didn't want to take fire from their flanks if the Russians managed to recover from their panic.

“Elisa?" Danielle's voice came over the radio, looking for her partner.

“It's almost time. We've got to have less than thirty seconds before her charges go. Elisa better be clear." Madison said, pulling the electronic clacker detonator out of her pocket. She undid the safety clip and folded the handle over, waiting for the rest of the fireworks to start.

“Ellie?" Texas' voice came again, a hint of worry seeping in on the edges.

“Ellie, clear!" The strangled voice of the Utahraptor stuttered over the airwaves, forcing the pair to make eye contact. They didn't have to say anything to know what the other was thinking, the worry evident in both of their eyes.

That tone was very un-Ellie like.

“I hope she's okay." Madison muttered as the first explosion ripped through the sky from the northmost Avia gas station. The red fireball went skyward silently for a few moments, before the massive shockwave struck their position, dead branches and leaves shaking from the trees above them. Woods clicked the detonator three times and set off her own fireworks show.

The pair watched as the world went to hell around them.

++++++

In downtown Pressath, Germany

June 25th, 2011 2225 Local

Elisa

Delta, Pack Lucky 7-7

Elisa dragged her sickle-like claw along the uniform pants of the Russian soldier in which it had just been buried, wiping off the blood that coated its surface. The onyx scythe had torn through both the man's Kevlar and his ballistic plates, the ceramic/polyethylene protective insert not doing much against the eight-inch penetrator with a thousand pounds of angry raptor behind it. Both he and his partner had died before they'd known she was there, mouths twisted in silent agony even as she repositioned and dragged both of their bodies into a nearby alley, tucking them behind a foul-smelling dumpster that made her turn her snout up in disgust.

The raptoress poked her head out of the alley, glancing left and right before moving down the street, hiding in the shadows of the buildings that were unlit. Fortunately for her, a lot of the street lights were inoperative, either shot out or destroyed in some form or fashion.

She moved silently and quickly towards what looked like a large church steeple, oxidized green from years of exposure to the elements. The sounds of a party could be heard from a blue building across the street from the church, singing in Russian drifting forth from within. The sign was mostly gone, but the raptor could make out 'Gasthof'. She could see several Russians through the front windows, blue berets shining in the artificial light. She could smell the sharp tang of alcoholic beverages over the delicious scent of cooking meat, and the tang of human sweat.

Let them celebrate. The more of them distracted, the better.

She could smell Madison and Foxy nearby, the sharp cinnamon scent of male Utahraptor evident over everything else in her sharp senses. They'd no doubt heard the party as well, and would no doubt deliver an appropriate gift.

Ellie moved away from the celebration, tucking through the courtyard of the church. She passed flowering trees, dark and quiet in the light from the waning moon. The party's noise behind her, she spotted a building ahead that was lit up, standing out from its darkened brethren on either side. Next to the propped open door was a hand-painted signboard with a stylized bat, a luminous number sixteen standing out on the dark background.

Found you!

She ducked across the dark street, keeping out of the squares of light that issued forth from the building's windows, no attempt at hiding or laying low evident on the Russian's part.

That was a mistake for which she was going to make them pay.

Her amber eyes peaked in through the corner of the window, noting a single soldier at the front desk of what used to be a tax law office. He looked bored, writing in a notebook in front of him with a yellow pencil. His body armor and AN-94 rifle were sitting in the corner a few feet from him. A striped blue and white shirt stuck out from his uniform collar, one of the distinct signs for which she was looking.

The bat patch on his shoulder just confirmed it.

The raptor ducked back out of sight, moving into the alley, finding the building's electrical box without the slightest bit of trouble. She grabbed the padlock in her teeth and twisted, snapping the metal without effort, opening the large gray door that protected the meter from tampering. Wrapping her forepaws around the meter portion, she yanked backwards, ripping the entire contactor from the unit and plunging the building into darkness. She heard the Russian curses echoing from the man at the front desk as he stood, followed by the sweeping white beam of a flashlight reflecting on the window glass as he searched for the interior fuse panel.

Elisa slinked back to the front, climbing the short concrete steps before slipping in through the ajar front door, thankful that the hardwood floor was solid and noiseless. She halted outside the anteroom door, tapping her left killing claw rhythmically on the polished wood and causing the beam of the soldier's flashlight to turn back towards her. She stayed just out of sight as she heard the man's footsteps approach.

“Mikhalev?" The mans voice called, no concern evident as he stepped back through the portal. He didn't have a second to react as Ellie's jaws closed on his head, teeth penetrating his skull with no effort on her part. She ignored the taste of the man's blood as it ran down her jaw, human decidedly not on her menu, before lowering him quietly to the ground.

The building was eerily silent, save for the snores of sleeping men. She figured that they'd been on a non-stop combat rotation as well. If it was anything like the one they were on, sleep was something that had been lacking since the war began.

The raptoress turned and moved down the opposite way, heading for a small hallway with several doors on each side. She could smell more soldiers inside each room, their scents mixed in with even more sweat and the ever-present smell of propellant. Somewhere, she could smell the distinct odor of PVV-5a, the Russian version of C-4 plastic explosive. The sharp chemical odor of RDX is not something that she could miss easily, even without her bomb-detection training.

The raptor turned the knob on the first room with her forepaw, sliding the door open with a quiet creak. Four soldiers lay on cots in what looked to be a former office, the ornate, polished desk pushed against a wall of various expensive looking books. The steady snores of the men told her that she'd not been detected. One gaze at the Russians had her once again seeing red, instincts to suppress intruders to their territory roaring to the front of her mind.

She quickly dispatched the first two with her forepaws, turning before the steady patter of blood splattering on the floor could wake the other two, dispatching them in a similar fashion. She turned, blood-soaked tracing out into the hallway as she repeated the performance in three more rooms, for a total of sixteen kills.

The pressure that throbbed in her skull, tinting her vision crimson in bloodlust was roaring, brought to light by the satisfying kills of intruders to her pack's territory.

They will all pay!

“Five minutes, Ellie." The voice of Texas echoed in her headset, the volume quiet. The raptoress gave two clicks in acknowledgement on her push-to-talk pad, lest her voice give away her presence.

The raptor climbed the stairs at the rear of the building, hearing nothing that betrayed anyone awake on the second level either. The smell of RDX was getting stronger as she advanced, blocking out everything but the scent of blood and antiseptic in the last room. She stepped into another small antechamber, immediately taking note of a soldier manning a large radio set, facing away from her. He was snoring softly, obviously asleep, and she ensured that he would remain so with the slash of her claws on his throat.

_ That explains why nobody is investigating the power. They're all asleep. Pathetic._

The next door was where the strongest explosive odor was emanating from, and she entered it quickly, pleased to find it unoccupied save for a large table, a map case and dispatch bag sitting on the corner next to a Bizon submachine gun. She looked for the weapon's owner, not finding him until she heard a toilet flush in an adjoining room, followed by Russian curses at whatever was causing the power outage. She ambushed the man as he came out of the dark bathroom, tearing out his throat with her powerful jaws, spattering blood down the off-white walls. The metallic-iron taste on her tongue was ignored as she watched the man bleed out with a morbid curiosity, arterial spray like some morbid fountain as his body panicked, even though he was already dead.

Her heart was pumping at a mile a second, breath coming in warbling chatters as she let her instincts drive her forwards. The pounding in her skull was like the engine of a locomotive on a wide-open track, running at full throttle with clear signals.

_I will make you pay! _

Turning back to the table, she slid the waterproof map case and dispatch bag over her long neck, before doing the same with the submachine gun.

She took one last look around for the source of the explosive smell, noting several green crates stacked in the corner. The locking mechanism on the crates opened easy enough, and the lid swung silently open to reveal several ten-pound satchel charges with pull-ring detonators. The tops were marked with Russian lettering, the number two followed by a series of cyrillic, which in her limited knowledge, meant that they were two-minute fuses. She pulled three before backing out of the room, pushing through the last door of the hallway without concern of being silent.

The raptor came face to face with four men wrapped in bandages on various parts of their bodies, sitting up in beds at the sudden interruption. Their eyes wide with terror, it didn't take but for one to scream in horror before all hell broke loose. She spun, screeching in anger and flicking her forepaws across the exposed chest and throat of the first man, splitting him down the center with a sickening crunch, ribs cracking under the massive force of her strike. The second man, opposite the first, got her tail to his face as he tried to produce a Makarov pistol from his nightstand, snapping his neck backwards and dropping him instantly. Moving towards the bed bound third man, she miscalculated her footing and slipped in the blood of the first man, trying to catch herself as she gracelessly fell on the third man, crushing him with her half-ton weight in a move that, while unpredicted, served the intended result.

“pozhaluysta! Pozhaluysta!" The final man wept, having fallen out of bed. He was now crawling away as fast as his wounded body would allow. He reached the doors to the rear balcony but couldn't get up high enough to open them. Instead, he turned and faced the monster that had invaded his room. Tears streamed down his face unconsciously as he tried to raise his hands in surrender, but it was to no avail.

Intruder!

Elisa brought her killing claw up, flicking it through the man's sternum and into his heart, ending his life immediately. Her jaws ripped into his shoulder, head flopping uselessly as she relieved him of part of his body before dropping him against the doors. The blue eyes stared at her as he expired, mouth open in a silent, haunting scream. They stayed open, staring at the ceiling as the raptor stood, looking away from the man to her own reflection in the glass.

She could see the tiny droplets of blood falling from her mouth, hitting the polished hardwood below her muzzle with a gentle patter. The metallic taste of human blood once again overtook her senses, blocking out all other inputs as it pushed to the front of her mind.

All the red faded from her vision in an instant.

The reflective shine of her eyes entranced her, making her focus away from the tears that were running unbidden down the side of her face, a reaction that surprised her as she watched. She hadn't expected to see that. Without further hesitation, she threw open the balcony doors, pushing aside the dead man's limp body before she took a running leap into the courtyard behind the office. As she ran past, her eyes once more caught on the sight of the blue eyed Russian, a pang of unexpected guilt rising forth in her as she took to the air.

Another leap using the trunk of a white Mercedes Benz S-Class put her on the flat roof of another building, which she quickly skirted before leaping to the ground on the other side, running full tilt until she slid quietly into the water of the river Haidenaab.

The surprisingly cold water shocked her senses as she dipped her whole head under, frantically trying to wash off the blood that coated her. The taste of human on her tongue did not ebb as she took large gulps of water, desperately trying to flush it even as her stomach screamed at her to stop. She kneaded her forepaws together, ducking her torso under as well. The hot blood felt like it was still there, despite the cold liquid, and only after a full fifteen seconds under did she stop, panting as she resurfaced. Her breathing slowed as she attempted to calm herself, tears still running freely from troubled amber eyes.

I was justified! He was the enemy! An intruder! I couldn't let him live to tell of me!

“Texas, clear of objective."

I was justified!

“Star and Foxy, clear."

He was the enemy!

_ _ “Elisa?"

Justified!

_ _ “Ellie?"

_It's okay. I'm okay. Just calm down! _

_ _ “Ellie, Clear." She responded shakily, taking a deep breath before turning. The river surrounding her was red with blood, twisting in the slow current as the river moved on.

The sound of multiple explosions rippled through the still night air, plunging the town into chaos as the female raptor retreated, fires shooting skywards behind her. As the secondary explosions started, the light reflected in her tear-laden eyes.

What have I done?