Clan Wars: Chapter 5

Warning: Character "T" is the same as "Vick". Character "Jake" is the same as "Scott". "Character "Ashley" is the same as "Alice" Vinuts are the same as Shepherds. ALL STILL UNDER HEAVY CONSTRUCTION.

         Six, my best friend, started up the car and while I opened up the shotgun side door and climbed in. Once I got in his car we hurried out of the parking lot and onto the street. I told Six to drop me off at my house and then meet up at the "Obechya" which meant in Russian, "Base". As I got out of the car I made a nasty remark towards his Hispanic ethnicity and started cracking up as he cursed me in Spanish. I unlocked my door to my house and walked inside. It was a thin, two story house out in the country. On the first floor, was a small living room with two couches, and a table. Walking straight, was an old kitcken, with a stove, window looking out back, and a small dining table with 4 chairs. To the right was a staircase leading up to a bathroom, and a bedroom across the hall. To the left of my house was a garage with a Grand Cherokee Jeep. I liked it for its simplicity but capability. It was enough to carry gear and it could also be used as a tactical assault vehichle. The only bad thing about was because of its curved shape, it was a bitch to bullet proof. I'll have to eventually tell someone the story about what happened to that cat when it got... integrated into the jeeps armor.... maybe I shouldn't actually I continued onto my room and changed into straight fitting jeans, a dark green t-shirt shirt that read "Infidel" and all-terrain leather hiking shoes. I heard a rustle from the other side of the room and smiled. I turned around to see Jacapo, my pet rabbit. "Hungry boy?" I said and walked across the room to pet the bottom of his long ears. I never kept Jacapo in a cage or box, so he was free to roam my apartment, yet he preferred to take his naps in my room. I reached in my mini fridge and pulled out two carrots and put them on his blue plate that was inscribed "Jacapo". I walked across the hall to my small but cozy bathroom and ran cold water over my hands, and lightly styled my short black hair. (Yes, bathrooms are capable of being cozy. At least for guys...) I pulled my leather jacket off my coat rack at the bottom of the stairs and walked out the door, still wearing my pistol underneath my jacket in my shoulder holster. I got in my jeep and started to drive down the road, when I turned up the radio. It was flooded with the news about the cult suicide. I listened for more information but didn't find much.

It sounded like the only information the police had was that bodies were found at 8 AM this morning in Harlem. When things like this happened, possibly supernatural things, us younger wizards met at The Base. It was like a minature model of The Clan's HQ (located in Moscow), but it was in New York. Each major city in most counties had a Clan embassy, so The Base, was New York's Clan embassy. I pulled into a storage lot, the size of a football stadium. I went to a regular looking storage container in the 34th row, number 9403. It had two padlocks on it, and a combination lock. I took my key ring off my belt loop and unlocked both padlocks,. I entered the numbered combination and stepped inside. In front of me was a large, 8 feet high, and 3 feet wide safe that took of half of storage container. It had a combination lock on it, with a large wheel handle. I entered the combination, turned the heavy metal wheel and opened the door. I stepped in the safe - right into a steep stairecase heading down, which was just faintly illuminated by candles held by metal slots on the wall. I closed the safe door behind me, and started walking down. I always liked the solitude these stairs gave me...



I walked into the series of tunnels that the staircase led too. This was The Base. A gathering place for us younger wizards. Instead of being a club or a tree house, this was more like a barracks. Young wizards eager for a fight against evil things came here for meetings, preperations, and rendevouzs. There were more Shepherds here now than I've ever seen. Shepherds were the soldiers of The Clan if they were called for combat operations, but in the peace time they generally operated as policemen of the Underlife. We refer to all things relevant to magical existence as part of the Underlife. Possibly because most of our bases were in fact underground. Maybe its just because we had to almost constant stay "undercover" from the normal society. Right now, there were at least 40 Shepherds at the Base presently which meant the tunnels around the main chamber were packed. Some were standing around, talking or looking nervous. Others were in conferance rooms or main chamber, talking in groups. I saw a group of my friends in one conferance rooms. I walked in the room and looked around seeing Six standing by the group but watching a TV. He was wearing khaki pants and a regular sized polo shirt, with a focused look on his face. I whistled to get his attention then walked over to him and the group. "Hey whats going on?" He walked to me and murmered "Theres something big going on. The profile we had on this Cult says they have close to 90 members in the area. Only 20 of them are lying on the ground dead. So where is the other 70?" I nodded and thought about it. A lot of the times some of the Cult members chicken out. But 70? It doesn't make sense.

Just then one of my good friends Tyler walked up. He was built like a strong runner with medium blond hair. He was wearing athletic shorts, flip flips, and a t-shirt that said "2009 Boston Marathon". I shook his hand and he returned it firmly. "How have you been brother?" I asked. He grinned and nodded, "Better than you by the looks of it." I laughed "I've always told you to get those small eyes of yours checked." Tyler grinned wolfishly. Just then, a Shepherd I didn't recognize came up. "Hey guys, its bad. A neighborhood in Harlem just got hit but . We think its that Cult from earlier. Twelve people dead, more wounded." We all went silent. The 'Intel Alarm' rang loud in our ears, utterly shattering the silence and nearly our eardrums as well. The 'Intel Alarm' as us Shepherds called it meant that our Intelligence wing had just acquired Intel that continued a D.A. (Direct Action) Mission, or basically a raid conducted my the Shepherds. We all, almost in a synchrinized motion, began to gather our things in our things inside our barracks lockers like guns, ammo, staves, torches (the large magical wand which were usually about 1 1/2 feet long), combat webbing, and bags. Like I said, Shepherds usually acted as policemen in times of peace, but we could be called on for combat. Kind of the the Army Reserves. So even though we didn't come to The Base loaded for bear, we had the necessaries at The Base to become well armed. After about 15 minutes we were ready and about 20 of us gathered in the parking lot as our commander came to the middle. He was a rough man in his late 70's but appeared to by 40 and in exellent physical condition. He wore cloths similar to everyone elses, but they seemed more worn and battered. Amoung us Shepherds, he commanded great respect. We came into a closer circle and it got quite. Finally he spoke, "Alright guys, we have intel that this attack was from one of the local cults. This is without doubt one


of the worst attacks from a cult that I have ever heard of." I don't know if its possible, but it seemed to get more silent. Commander Hoss had been in the game of killing "boogey men" for a long time and if he was suprised by the scale of this attack, we knew we were in for a treat. Even though our name, "Shepherd" implies us to be soldiers, we are almost never on the offensive. We usually patrol bad neighborhoods, and investigate. We also provide some security for the Magical higher ups now and then. "One element is going to go to the neighborhood. You will act as spectators, but secretly pull security on the scene as the police forces handle the clean up." This will be Element Delta. The second Element, Alpha, will head to the suspected cults hide out." I knew right then that me, and all my friends wanted to be on Alpha for this mission. We were eager to ride the calvary into the fight. "Now our main goal is to find evidence of the attack from this cult. If they don't wish to comply, and respond hostily, you will


be in your full right to kill every last one of them. Because they will try to kill each and every one of YOU, to the last man." He looked over the crowd, as if knowing the ones that were going to die already. "Your Element Sergeant will fill you in on the way there. So pay close attention. I know you boys have been trained for missions like these, but these boogey men seem to be packing magical potentional. They are to be considered a major threat. Do not underestimate them." He looked us over again, and nodded to our Element Sergeant who began to funnel us into our vehichles. And with one last shout, Commander Hoss told us "Its go time boys, lets saddle up!" There was a cheer from the crowd mixed with "Hooah"s and "Hoorah"s. After about five minutes of confusion, we finally got assigned to our Elements and put into vehichles. Predictably, Six, Tyler, the guy who dilivered the news about the Cult attack originally, and myself were all loaded in the same car, my Jeep. I was driving with Six in shotgun, and Tyler and noobie in the back.




Our Sergeant was good about putting us with guys we knew and trusted. I knew Six had a USP Tactical pistol, and Tyler had a sturdy 9mm Beretta, but I didn't know what the new guy was packing. The car was completely silent pulling out, until Tyler started talking to the noobie. "Hey Vick, hows that thing going with your dad?" The noobie, Vick apparently, smiled slightly. "He's hanging in there. Hosptial is treating him good." Tyler nodded. "Good." Element Alpha 0-3 had about 3 cars total in the convoy. We had 12 guys, all with a good amount of combat magic skill, and I was comfortable with all their abilities. My curiousity could last no longer so I turned around and asked "So what are you packing back there Vick?" I heard the sound of metal rubbing on polyester as Vick drew his piece. "Glock 17, extended clip. Holds 18 rounds." I nodded in approval, Six now turning around to check out his Glock. Everyone loves Glocks. I was in the middle of the convoy, with an SUV in front of us, the Element Sergeant in that vehichle. He got on the radio that linked all of our vehichles. "Alright guys, this is Sergeant Bower, and I will be conducting this raid today." We all smirked and grinned.



"Okay listen up. Lead Vehichle, I will be leading this squad, Squad One. The middle vehicle, Squad Two, will be lead by Scott. The rear vehichle's group will be lead by Brandon, Squad Three." Vehichle 1 will conduct initial approach while 2 and 3 wait on stand by." There was a minute pause in the radio chatter. "The target is a warehouse, 3 stories high, about 100 feet long, and 70 feet wide. If things go bad, Squad Two will assault from the front to support Squad One. Then Squad Three will flank from a back door, that intel says is at the very back of the buildings at the top of a stair case." There was a small break where some conversation could be heard over the radio, supposedly discussing something about the mission. He continued what he was saying after conformation of some detail "Don't play by their rules guys. Don't limit yourself to just gun fire or magic. Use whatever is best for the job. We give full quater, remember that. If someone surrenders, put their lights out, but leave them breathing." We all looked around in the jeep. This thing could go really wrong, and we knew what we might get into in a few minutes. "Remember your training, use your head, use your teamwork, and for god sake use your weapons... if needed." We all grinned very gung-ho grins. "And if you have any questions, ask me after the battle. Or investigation. Whichever they choose." The vehicles started to slow down a bit. "Game faces gentlemen. Bower out." and the radio crackled off." Yeah, like a Cult would allow us to properly investigate them. I thought. "Lets do this." Vick said ambitiously.



We pulled into a remote trail off of the highway and headed down it for only a minute or two before we all got out, very quietly. Also, one thing all Shepherd soldiers learn is to disable the inner lights to their vehichles. This helps with stealth, so that when we get in or out of our vehichles, we aren't a bright beacon of activity. We all crouched down and hid in the forrest surrounding the target building. Squad One all got up and moved to the front door. As they were doing this, the Shepherdes from Squad Three were already circling around to the flank of the building, getting in position for their possible rear assault. I had a feeling, it was a VERY possible assault.

When Squad One got to building, they were confronted by two large metal doors, side by side. I was anxious about this mission and before I thought I was ready, they started to bang on the front door. Sergeant Bower was the first one to speak, yelling "This is Sergeant Bower, represnting all the families of The Clan. I order everyone in this building to file
out of the front door one by one, with your hands above your head. We are authorized by The Clan and the Allied Counsels to search this warehouse on suspicion of black magical activity and the basic corruption of the common good. If you comply, you will not be harmed tonight." Everyone could hear clattering noises inside of the warehouse. Then a very, very deep voice came form inside the warehouse.

" How funny. The so called 'Shepherds' are really the lambs being brought to the slaughter house. Clan dogs, I will give ye one chance to leave in peace. Do not mistake my gesture of generosity for patience." Boomed a very deep and loud voice. It was a thunderous and ominous. 'This thing can't possibly be human, the voice is all wrong. Not only is it to deep, its as loud as a person with a microphone and a dozen amps. Thus I dubbed this new fellow, Deep Voice. I dub a lot of people.

Sergeant Bower had a pair of steel, because he replied in kind.
"You don't understand pal, this is YOUR last chance to leave. Leave the building, peacefully and we can all walk away tonight." There was a pause of maybe 20 seconds, with nothing. The Shepherds don't joke around. One soldier from Squad One blasted in the door with a Push, while another soldier simultaneously threw a flash-bang grenade in the door. In a flash(no pun intended), they were inside the building and were instantly greeted by gunfire. Oh shit I thought. Here we go. Adrenaline started to pump into me quickly as I patted Tyler on the shoulder firmly, "Lets go guys!" I said as we got up, all sprinting towards the building across a wet, dew covered field of grass. I was comforted to see Shepherds from Squad Three also sprinting across the long stretch of grass to the back of the warehouse. Back up. Good. I thought. My squad hit the side of the building and quickly slid in the door, and I was soaked in an atmosphere of bullets cracking everywhere, sparks from ricochets lighting up the dimly lit interior. I could tell Squad One was already in trouble, seeing as they were pinned down behind barrels, stacks of timber, and crates. The rest of my squad followed suit, getting into cover in some form. I stood behind a vertical steel beam and tried to identify targets. In the middle of the warehouse, there was a dead man with a dirty, gray robe on. A cult member. I realized, and dismissed him as I kept scanning the warehouse. A group of two cult members or 'boogeymen' as some Shepherds called them were up on cat walks firing down on us with shotguns and pistols. I also saw purple arcs fly down towards us, hitting against the warehouse wall behind us and splatting against it was an acidic sizzle. A few Shepherds were firing back, and the boogeymen went down violently as our guns and spells barked in their direction. Then boogey's started to pour out of the doors on the 1st and 2nd floors. I could see an array of weapons. Machine guns, shotguns, and pistols. One guy even had a freaking cross-bow. I stuck my .45 around the corner, my eye peering down the sights, and shot a boogey who had just raised up to fire his shotgun. I fired two bullets, both going into his upper chest and out his back, spattering blood on the stacked barrels behind him. Our guys were putting a serious hurt on these boogeys, but I could see our guys starting to get injured as well. I moved out of my cover to the far right wall which I was closest too, and moved along it feeling the bullets crack around me, and dirt spinning up from the floor.. A door that was only a few feet to my side was kicked open and a tall boogey with long, black, oily hair ran out, firing a .357 magnum in the direction of my guys. He only got two shots off before a bullet from Tyler struck him in his head, and I put three shots right into his back. Things heated up, literally and figuratively, when the magic started flying even more.


People were sending destructive spells all around the large room. Lightening, fire, Push, and other odd forces zipped across the indoor battlefield, scorching and blasting both sides. It was obvious that our spells were more controlled and precise though. While a boogeys fire spell might look like a flame thrower, ours was more like a blow torch or even a laser. One cult member who was probably on some kind of drug ran into the middle of the freaking battle! The very middle! We all learned a lesson in human anatomy and bad decision making when he was hit by several bullets, then simply but ruggedly blown in half with an explosive spell from a Shepherd. I myself saw a boogey running for cover and sent a Push rolling across the floor, which violently smacked his feet out from under him. When he tried to get up, I sent another Push that knocked him off his feet again and crushed him against a wall. When he hit, he looked like a rag doll falling down and I didn't expect on taking him prisoner anymore. I raised my other arm and fired a couple shots at him just to make sure he was down for good, and to my satisfaction, he never got back up. A boogey man sprayed bullets from a cat walk with a small machine gun, hitting Brandon in the foot, sending him down to a knee. Vick, the new guy, yelled a word in an Arabic tongue and an orange spike shot from his hand, cutting through the air quickly and striking the boogey man who hit Brandon. The unlucky boogey man was instantly engulfed in flames, but they weren't regular flames, he looked like a moving, flailing blow torch. Within seconds he collapsed, a charred skeleton. It was so odd how people chose their MLP (Magical Language of Preference). For instance, Brandon was a short, stocky, blonde hair guy but somehow decided to use Arabic as his MLP. Six was Latino yet I had heard him use Germanic words as his MLP. “Why do did you choose Arabic?” I oddly inquired to Vick. It seemed like a mad question to ask during all this chaos. The only reply I got was a sly smirk from him. Several bullets that zinged by my head regained my attention to our situation and two boogeymen took the place of the one Vick had fried. One was carrying a freaking RPG-7 on his shoulder! I raised my pistol and shot once hitting the left one in the throat, dropping him to his knees as the wooden double barrel shotgun dropped clattered down to the cat walk, his hands grabbing at his torn, bloody neck. I turned my sights on 'rocket man' and pulled the trigger... as my .45 clicked empty. I just had time to put a new clip in my weapon, when my eyes connected with the RPG man and he smiled a smile of the hunter, looking at a helpless doe through his sights.