Then again, that is the true sense of our tactics here. Hit and fade, guerrilla attacks against the larger force, never letting them rest. We burn them fast, then we fade, make them have to recover and then when their reeling, when they think that maybe they’re safe or when they’re just too tired, we hit them again. And again. And again.

“Sir? Primogen Castlerock wants you to know that a mansion in the 4th quarter, Burnlap district was recently moved into. A few days ago to be exact by a couple. I have the address sir”

“Thank you.” It’s an absent thought, as I note down the date and time before I speak up again “Have Michealson and his team swing by during the day and check it out.”

“Yes sir.” I watch the man scurry off, already losing myself in thought over another the casualties taken. We’ve lost another two of our men, a Brujah and a Toreador since the attack 5 days ago. On the other hand, we’ve slowly whittled them down, taking out their leaders in particular. But my mind keeps on returning to the problem, to the real edge to their attacks.

“Any sightings of that… thing?”

“No sir. Not since yesterday.”

“Inform me…”

“At once. Yes sir. We know.”

I shake my head, wondering how often I’ve reminded them already. That thing has me on edge. It ploughed right through us in the first attack, and even a surprise attack on it with a pair of flamethrowers and sub-machineguns did little to slow it down. It was hurt, no question about that, but it still managed to destroy a flamer and the ghoul using it as well as wrecking the entire van. If we hadn’t planned for a retreat, the losses would have been a lot worst.

I let out a slow breath, staring up at the ceiling. I need a cigar. I shake my head, staring at the walls around me and then stand up suddenly. Things won’t change that greatly within the next 15 minutes, and I need a break. Some clean air.

“I’m going up. If anything…”

“Yes sir. We understand.”

I move upstairs, to the rooftop and draw out my cigar. I light it before walking along the roofs edge, staring down at the lights of the city. Strange to think down there a war is being waged, when it looks so peaceful from up here. Distance makes it look so unimportant, so small, insignificant.

I feel the beast, the need in me claw within my chest, within my heart. A need to be set free, to run along those rooftops, to fly through the air, to hunt down my enemies and face them face to face. Its not only the beast itself that chafes against the restraint, its my own soul, my desires. To fight them, to tear them down, to take them on to see who is the better man.

I push it down, the desires, the needs, the senseless waste of resources. It takes all my training, all my will to shove it aside deep into my soul and put a leash on it. It takes all my training to remind myself that the best use of my abilities at the moment is here, in the room beneath my feet. Planning, plotting, directing. Being a commander instead of a grunt.

I hate the job, the dictates of it. I hate having to let people die and to risk their lives without me there. Asking people to do things that I can’t do. But that’s the job, and if I abandon my post it’ll mean that more will die eventually. It still hurts though.

I let out a long breath, the smoke from the cigar released into the wind. It whips past my face as fast as I let it out, staring into the night. I push aside all these thoughts, all these desires, searching for that empty place within me. A place where I can stop feeling, stop reacting and just… be. A place where the rules can be changed.

I feel my mind clear, feel myself just float in the emptiness as a part of me takes over the rest of my body. In another place, my hand moves from top to bottom, taking hold of the cigar and drawing in the smoke, my eyes shift to take in the shadows and the clouds, the lights below me. A part of me sifts through the sounds of the world around. Bust mostly, I float in the centre of my being and I consider our options.

The monsters, the creature that they are using is sent against any installation we have. Anything that is big and likely for us to use as a base of operations, or just because we own it has been hit so far. I don’t understand how something that big can hide during the day, yet it seems to disappear at will. Perhaps some form of obfuscate... yet, we should be able to find it whilst it rests. I push the ire away once more, facts are facts and we can only use what we do have, not what we wish we had.

If there is any one individual with a chance to take that thing down, it is me. Pierre has tried and has failed. He of course wants another go, but if they can get the thing out, they can’t afford to lose. Not again. The real question is how to draw it out again… whoever their tactician is, he’s good. Actually, he’s better than I am – if my help was not as good as it was, we’d be in big trouble. Fortunately for us, the Sabbat just aren’t very good at fighting together, relying on large numbers and surprise attacks more than long term tactics.

I touch the piece of paper I slipped into my pocket again. It’s in code, but I know what it means anyway – look out, there’s another force that might be diverted to your side if you don’t finish this fast. Another 3 experienced packs from the fighting in Phoenix. If they do come, it’ll be bad, very bad. Even with our hit and fade tactics, we’ll slip up sooner or later. And with 3 more packs, that means at least another 10 Sabbat. Add another 10 because they’ll certainly embrace some cannon fodder. Too many, and that’s if we’re lucky and those packs are small. I doubt they will be. We have to end this fast.

“John?”

I turn around, looking her over slightly. I smile quietly, nodding “Sandy. I didn’t realise you were back.”

“We had to pull back to get some rest and blood. Katherine lost an arm in a duel with a knight. And don’t frown like that, I was busy. She took his head anyway.”

I let out a slow breath, nodding quietly and then turn back to the lights of the city, speaking softly “I see. How is it out there?” I feel her come up to me, stand by my side as I draw in the cigar again, letting out a breath slowly. The lights below me dance in my vision for a moment before I shut my eyes and open them.

“Bad. They’re starting to tear into parks and shopping malls trying to draw our attention. They’re getting frustrated Johnathan.” She pauses for a moment before she goes on, I hear the slight catch in her breath as she does so “so are the men.”

I nod slowly, listening to her. I expected as much, few people are truly able to fight a covert war, a war of the shadows. Perhaps the hardest thing about guerrilla warfare is the fact that your victories are never large, never overwhelming. You don’t hold the field, you fade from it leading men broken and tired. And your losses, your losses seem to grow till it seems that all your doing is losing men for little true gain.

“The last group…” she falls silent for a moment and I turn to her, seeing the look in her eyes. I know it too well, it’s the look of someone remembering something horrible, something that hurt them all the way inside “they were toying with some humans. They… tore the stomach of a woman open and they were playing with her intestines, just…” her voice catches and she falls silent, a hand running across her eyes as if to wipe away what she saw “We shouldn’t have attacked them. There were too many... but…”

“I know.” I know all too well. “It’s… okay.” I reach out for a moment, touching her shoulder before letting my gaze turn back over the city set below us. “But that’s what we’re fighting to stop.”

She nods tightly at that, before she speaks again, softly “Once she’s ready, we’ll go out again.”

“No. Get some rest. Best if you get some rest. And I’ll call Pierre back in too.”

I see the look on her face, a questioning one and I speak softly. Even to myself, my voice sounds grim, cold. “We’re changing plans. Tomorrow, we give them the fight that they’ve been looking for.”

She doesn’t question what I say, instead nodding. She reaches out, touching my hand for a moment before she turns away, moving down into the rooms below where the men continue their work.

I pull on the cigar one last time, dropping it beneath my heel. I crush it before I turn from the lights set below me. The moon hasn’t set yet and it won’t for a while more. There’s a lot that needs to be done in the last few hours remaining to us. They wanted a fight, we’ll give them one. We have to end this fast.