#Chapter 129 – Last Stand

The battle is drawing close, now.

Seeing that they had a slight advantage, only two men down as opposed to Rafe’s five, Victor had pressed into the offensive. Even if Rafe had set a trap ahead, his superior numbers should work in his favor.

Victor and his Betas had moved swiftly through the forest, spaced well within the trees, their rifles held at shoulder height, their eyes pressed to their scopes, searching.

They found Rafe’s troops all gathered together like rabbits in a warren.

Rafe’s troops were entrenched. They had found a well-protected area of forest with a stone wall rising behind them and several boulders on either side, perfect for hiding and sniping. Victor did a swift count as he approached – six. Good.

Rafe had collected his entire Beta team together for one final showdown, one last stand. There would be no more scouting and retreating after this; instead, Rafe had put all his eggs in one basket.

This was his alamo.

Victor’s face lights in a feral grin. Good.

Still hidden yards away out of sight from Rafe’s troupes, Victor quickly checks in with his two remaining captains. Swiftly, they confirm their positions, and agree to their route. They nod to each other from across the forest and then, as one, they charge.

They have the element of surprise, but not for long. Rafe’s troupes hesitate only for a minute before they begin to fire.

Two of Victor’s fastest Betas sprint forward, their guns strapped to their backs, knives in their hands, running for the protected area behind the boulders where their enemies are ensconced. If they can get in, they’ll do swift damage to Rafe’s troupes.

The other five members of Victor’s party move steadily behind, their fingers on their triggers, pumping wolfbane-coated rubber bullets into the encampment whenever they have the opportunity.

Victor grits his teeth as he moves forward, taking the furthest position in the line, the most protected spot. He grimaces as he sees one of his runners fall, shrieking, to the ground – felled by an enemy bullet before he can get behind the enemy line. The other takes a final leap and disappears behind the boulder.

Victor listens above the sound of gunshots and hears yells and shrieks from the enemy encampment – good, the scout has done his work. Still, enemy guns are being fired. Victor hadn’t been lucky enough to take them all out with one forward runner, and that man, he knows, was surely taken down.

Hopefully he took out enough of the enemy to make his sacrifice worth it.

Victor steadily stalks forward, wishing he had an updated count. How many men does Rafe have left? He sees shots from at least three guns, one of which must belong to Rafe. If his forward man had taken Rafe out, the others would have stopped shooting.

is still

to the side when he sees two of his own men fall, one after the other. They scream in pain, their cries echoing through the forest, but, quickly, they press their mouths shut, doing their very best to suffer in silence. Good, Victor thinks.

thinks, pressing ever forward. He’s almost at the boulders himself now. Almost ready to switch weapons from this assault rifle to a pistol, which will be better

for him. A hand appears

Victor’s years of military training prevent him from panicking. “MOVE!” He yells

as Victor works to move backward – a grenade –

of

eyes, which had long been adjusted to the

flash grenade. They hadn’t agreed to these as part of the weaponry arsenal, or else Victor would have used one as part of his own assault. He grits his

as he waits for his eyes to adjust again to the darkness. For a moment, though, he is blind, and he knows his men are too. Rafe, surely, is taking

moves into a tactical retreat, scanning the shadows of the forest that are slowly coming back into the focus, moving behind a tree to see if he can get a better layout

he thinks, four men left, plus me. Against how many?

battle with Rafe’s troupes. Bullets fly through the air, knives flash. Victor raises his own rifle to his shoulder, stepping out into the open air, pressing his finger to the

bullets find their places, one after

another of Rafe’s Betas

Victor presses forward, taking careful aim. From the

takes two bullets in the

his count, in addition to Rafe

his trigger finger as the man raises his gun in his direction, but the man falls and bursts

Rafe’s Betas down. But where the hell was

if Rafe is hiding there. Victor’s final remaining Beta is

Beta’s head jerks back as he screams, his body jolting, a rubber bullet hitting him directly in the chest. Victor’s body launches into a sprint, his instincts on over-drive, as a figure in black

as he gives himself over

two of

slings his rifle over his back – he’s going too fast, now, to give it the careful aim that it needs. He picks up speed, reaching down to his thigh to where

have been training. But Victor is still faster. Steadily gaining on him, Victor raises his pistol, ready to take a

Actually trips –

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