No plan survives contact with the enemy – and boy did we ever have contact.

There were six witches here. Six! If asked yesterday on our chances of finding six witches in the same region and not murdering each other, I'd have said less than zero. Yet here they were, trying their absolute best to kick my team's ass in what could only be called a coordinated attack.

It was really too bad they were weak as hell.

One worked hard to cover the blind spot of her friend, using her rather silly water manipulation to try and make a shield. She was dark skinned and dark haired… and then she was painted red. Her shield had splattered a heartbeat before she did; it offered no resistance to my shot at all. The one she was covering was throwing stone, like the one we met yesterday. It looked like her, too.

Twins sharing the exact same power were unusual in the extreme.

Ivan managed to put a dagger in the eye of one, a rather hefty witch wearing a viking helmet of all things, and carrying a hammer. The helmet clearly needed better eye protection. As she went down (with an earthshaking thud) a thin twig of a girl who couldn't be over 12 fired some sort of liquid fire at him over the freshly made corpse.

He barely ducked it in time. Alicia was doing better, her whip latched onto one blonde in a dress that looked like it had been expensive before it was reduced to muddy rags, and she was using that witch to batter another witch into the turf; one of the witches we had seen in the files I had been forced to read yesterday.

They had numbers, and moved to cover each other like a hunter team did, but what they were lacking was strength. Other than the twin throwing rocks at us, the other witches were barely a problem; they couldn't hit us. It was almost funny, really.

“Sasha, to your left!”

I barely turned my head, just enough to confirm there were no kids in the line of fire, and put three shots into a slip of a girl with claw hands; she went down with a screech kind of like a teakettle's. Whether she would stay on the ground was anyone's guess. I fanned right with my right handed pistol and caught the witch in the muddy dress as she flew past; Alicia had either gotten sick of using her as a club, or she had gotten free on her own.

They weren't acting like witches in another way; they were fighting to the death rather than fleeing. I was more than happy to oblige, but something was off, here. I also intended to revisit the decision the Gloom had made regarding me not being allowed a mini-gun. At least you didn't have to reload a mini-gun as often, and the weight was a fair trade off for the firepower. Really, if he'd just let me have one, I'd find a way to carry it!

I reloaded while running right, away from the main melee; the rock thrower saw me, but missed. Then I was back in, snapping off head shots.

Honestly, with the forces arrayed against us, we really should have been pressed more; instead we just cleaned house. Oh, it took some effort, but compared to Russia? To her? On second thought, I probably shouldn't use Olivia as a benchmark for judging difficulty.

“Ivan, Alicia, New kid, you alright?”

Ivan and Alicia both gave me a yes, while the new kid – the much vaunted spotter we'd heard all about yesterday – gave me a glare.

“My name is Wendy, as you well know, Mr. Sasha.”

Wendy was younger than I was, which was unusual for people not in the hunt. It was almost like the French misunderstood why hunters were seldom over twenty. She looked like a little girl, a waif one might find on the streets or an orphanage asking for more porridge. She didn't wear a hat at all of course, even in full combat gear; no sense in tempting fate. I had taken one look at her and shaken her down for one, and she had gotten all huffy.

I didn't find one, and when Alicia had stripped her completely she hadn't blanked on us.

“Whatever.” If she could be backtalk, she was fine.

“Look, Mr Sasha, shouldn't we be getting in contact with the other teams? We were just attacked, they should know.”

“Just a moment, new kid.”

She also liked protocol, which was just adorable.

The bodies of the witches were doing something weird; they were melting. Old movies lied to us; witches corpses acted like normal human ones after they died. They decomposed, and stank, and made a mess. These were making the mess a little early by becoming some sort of green snot. I watched next to Ivan, a little bemused.

I turned to the new kid.

“This normal, here?”

She blushed and stammered.

“O-of course not! I've never seen anything like this before!”

I hadn't either, but witches were weird. All the slime seemed to be flowing in the same direction – towards the ocean. Even shooting it just made it reform and start out again. So I started following.

“Sasha, what are you doing? Shouldn't we, you know, not do something like that?”

I watched the mess bubble as it flowed uphill.

“Shouldn't we wait for reinforcements?”

I turned to look at Alicia. Was she stupid or something? She knew damn well that reinforcements weren't coming. I had made the call, and the nearest team currently on a job and days away. The nearest french team was currently being attacked; we had heard the panic in the radio chatter, even if I couldn't understand the words. Wendy didn't seem too torn up about it, so I wasn't worried yet.

So far, this early morning scouting expedition wasn't a success. I really think we needed to follow the slime. We could always go ahead and bail the french out later, but this was a clue now, clearly oozing away from us.

“Wendy.”

She zipped to my side so fast I could suspect her of using powers, if she had a hat, standing at attention and saluting. “Yes, Mr. Sasha?”

“Status on the other teams?”

“All engaged, Mr. Sasha, but fighting well. So far there are few casualties and no deaths. It seems the highest number of witches was sent to us.”

And if I remembered the grid assignments correctly, the nearest french team was a bit over six kilometers that way. To the other side, the nearest team should be in between seven and eight… the fight caused us to drift a little from our course, as fights are wont to do. Still, it was the french.

“Have they called for help yet?”

Wendy, still standing at attention, shook her head. Well if they haven't called for help, then we should probably follow the slime. So I started off, my team right behind me. Wendy soon shook herself out of attention and started doing her job too, scouting ahead of us.

I had asked for Wendy; survivors of witch attacks, especially lone survivors, always made me nervous. Normal people didn't manage to escape often unless they were allowed to. Plus, she was simply too perky to be normal.

We lost the goo very close to the beach. The beach wasn't a very nice one here, it was full of slick rocks and gull shit. You'd think green slime would stand out, but it didn't.

Wendy held up her radio; she had been looking for a way down. She ran back, eyes wide.

“Mr. Sasha, sir! There's a team not two kilometers away, they were chasing a witch they had routed, and they ran into another one! They are requesting reinforcements!”

Hm, there had to be a cave around here, or maybe a ship or something….

“Mr. Sasha?”

“Yeah, yeah, let's go. Lead on.”

She took off, and boy could she run.

Ivan jogged up as I picked up the pace myself, with a lopsided grin.

“I think she likes you, Sasha.”

I snorted.

“Please, she's like 14. Don't be a creeper.”

His grin just widened.

“She's older; your age, and you know it as well as I do. But still, she seems to have quite the crush on you, eh? Always looking at you, even during fights.”

Ah, so that was what this was about. Well, that and the chance to joke at my expense. He'd noticed her watching, more than she maybe should. Yeah, I could deal with that; I already had my suspicions. Lone people just didn't survive witch attacks.

And of course, the French wanted to prove me wrong on that, not even ten minutes later. The sounds of combat drew us in, to where a lone Frenchman in their special forces armor was trading shots with two older women, witches with actual lines etched into their beautiful faces. The first was using what appeared to be conjured wood as javelins while the second looked familiar….

Oh come on! I call bullshit. No way this many witches had identical twins with similar or identical powers, not without the Hunt hearing about it. Something was clearly up. In this case it was the twin of one of the witches I knew well from an earlier hunt. She was blue eyed and blue haired, and always stood out in a crowd. Despite that and her obvious old style pilot's helmet hat, she had yet to be caught, because she had some form of air manipulation as her go-to power. Kasthir was her name, and she had gotten away from other hunters simply because her ability to fly was without peer.

The Gloom hadn't let me try; I had been busy with the blood witch in Bavaria when Kasthir had vanished, months ago. Right now, she was doing a fair impression of a natural disaster, spinning localized tornadoes up with her feet, then releasing them, but she looked OLD. I'd seen drawings and paintings of Kasthir, and even a rare picture, and she couldn't have been older than 25. Here she looked a solid mid 40's, for some reason.

She was also missing a lot more than normal for her, given the reports I'd made other people read to me. It could all be perfectly innocent… but something was up; I could smell it, and it only got more rank with each passing moment.

I rang us in, my shots on target, and wood javelins about to kill our new friend exploded, probably only horribly maiming him with splinters instead. The witches didn't even turn before moving; that kind of combat awareness was unusual, even in veterans, and it threw Ivan's aim off.

But instead of keep up the attack, the witches started to retreat, running flat out.

Which seemed to make sense at first glance, as they were now outnumbered and may even be outgunned. The problem was, they were against me. I had no issues shooting them in the back. The flying witch dodged of course, somehow either having eyes in the back of her head or a guardian devil watching her back. The wood conjuring one wasn't as lucky; she lost the use of both arms.

She went to goo as soon as her face hit the dirt; I didn't even get the chance to answer questions.

The slime was gone quickly; by the time I got to where I'd downed her, there wasn't even a drop to sample.

I had a sneaking suspicion tickling the back of my mind. If I uttered it loud now though I was pretty sure all kinds of shit would hit the fan.

“Any of the other teams in trouble?”

I checked. The guy we'd managed to reach was still alive and mostly in one piece. Wendy's face as she listened to him jabber didn't give me much hope for his team, however. I got back in hearing range and she came running up.

“Mr. Sasha, sir, Team 4 is wounded about a kilometer back that way. Marco was just telling me it's really bad, and we should go back and check on them! We are the closest team, and I have medical training, and….”

I had to cut her off. Just too excitable.

“Lead the way.”

She took off with a squee sound; even Alicia rolled her eyes as we moved to follow. I gestured to Ivan to help the French guy… Marco, I guess his name was. Normally I'd already be off chasing the witch, and Alicia or Ivan would be doing the first aid thing, but splitting up here would get us killed, and going after Kasthir would have us run headlong into an ambush; I was sure of it.

For a wonder, one of Marco's team, a tall statuesque blond, was still alive. Of course, she was alive with about a foot of wooden javelin in her guts, but it was something. Alicia lifted her a little bit while I cut the javelin so it wasn't pinning her; removing it would have her leaking things she'd rather keep. Ivan was making a stretcher.

I let Alicia do the bandage work while I cornered Wendy.

“So, where are the other teams now?”

“Pulling back. All the other teams have taken casualties.”

For once, she sounded less than chipper; it was refreshing in a way.

“Fatalities?”

She nodded, cradling her earpiece.

“Three, with possibly two more expected, including Delilah.”

Delilah must be the blonde. Well, I didn't think we'd lose her, but her fighting days were probably over. What that really meant was that all cohesion was gone; instead of a strike force sent in to surround our enemies in a wide net, we had been reduced to small teams trying to stay alive and get out of the hot zone.

If the witches were inclined, they could make this as bad a disaster as Paris had been. The only question was, how badly were they hurting?

“How many scored witch kills?”

“Five teams, Sasha sir. A total of Seven witches downed by the other teams in addition to ours, and no prisoners.”

That was pretty unusual too. When witches went up against teams that didn't have something like our generators, the fights that we had stacked in our favor generally became a slaughter. In some cases not even painstakingly manufactured high explosives were enough; so why were the numbers skewed more like a series of seasoned Hunt teams at work?

Again, I had a theory; it was the kind of theory that warmed the heart even as it left everything else cold.

We hiked Delilah out of there, and were not attacked on our way out, something that pointed at a hidden weakness somewhere, just out of sight. After all, I'd be doing it, if I could.

It didn't matter. I knew that whatever was going on, the witches involved feared a proper Hunt team getting past that beach. So that beach was where we had to go. Fighting a seeming army of witches for just the three of us wasn't really an option, which was annoying; our generators would probably run dry before we got anywhere. So we would have to get sneaky, somehow.

Alicia would throw a fit; she still refuses to talk about the last time we had to get sneaky. But just doing my normal thing was going to get us buried in witches, I was sure of it.

Delilah managed to hang on all the way back to the staging area, which was untouched. They had carts for the wounded and we dumped her in one, next to her groaning comrades.

Well, we were gentle about it.

Covering the wagon train on it's way out was boring; even then there wasn't an attack. I was counting minutes. When nothing showed up to jump us even with the city in view, I gave up any hope of more excitement. A signal and my team got close.

“Generator charges?”

Alicia made a show of looking at hers. “Still good. 32 percent.”

Ivan didn't. “30 percent.”

I frowned. They had more than I did; I was sitting at 28 percent. With this many witches against us? Well, they hadn't left hats behind, so they weren't real witches. There, I admitted it, the French had been fooled; big surprise.

“We need to leave this mess behind, and get to the train.”

The train was the only place I was sure was clear of listening ears. Ivan knew something too, I could see it in his eyes. Alicia just looked like she wanted to raid the liquor cabinet. Which, come to think of it, was not a bad idea.

Of course, the moment we broke off from the very obvious procession that every citizen was staring at, Wendy noticed.

“Where are you going, Mr. Sasha sir?”

“Got to call in at headquarters. Radio in the train.”

I really didn't; hunter teams were always on their own in the field, but I'd requested the train stay, just in case, since we had no reinforcements. The Gloom had been off on some policy meeting with his peers, but I'd been promised the use of the train for 24 hours, barring an emergency. That time limit was running out.

Wendy was following us.

The train was right where we left it, and I waved to the gunners as I walked up, giving the signal to forbid entry as I went inside. The bar was right to one side of the door, and I didn't waste time. Still, Alicia almost knocked me out of the way with her fat self.

“Watch it, fatty.”

“Shut up, wimp.”

Ivan facepalmed.

“Can't you two just stop? The bar is big enough for all three of us.”

I made a point of looking at the bar; it could fit ten people, easily.

“Maybe so, but Alicia takes up two stools, and hogs all the tequila.”

Alicia got in my face, probably to give me a taste of her toxic breath.

“Two stools?!?! I'll have you know I don't weigh a kilo over 70!”

She almost made two of me, so I told her so. Before we could really get going, a voice interrupted us.

“E-excuse me, Mr. Sasha, sir?”

It was Wendy. On the train; without holes in her. How in the hell did she get on the train? I pulled Wendy inside and she squawked. A quick glance outside revealed both gunners were still there, looking out at the cleared platform. They didn't notice me.

“How did you get on the train, Wendy?”

she looked confused.

“I walked?”

Something was very wrong here.

“You should have been shot on approach.”

I had to put a finger in my ear to clear it after her screech.

“WHAT?!? WHY?!?”

“Because that's standard operating procedure for unknowns trying to get onboard our trains. That's why the people in the station are very careful about what platforms they get near. Didn't your buddies tell you?”

“No, I… I just thought everyone else was being superstitious or something.”

“Nope. Well, at least not entirely.”

“Ivan, Alicia, watch her.” I started through the car. Something was wrong here. I'd get Alicia to back me up, but she was still more interested in the tequila than anything else. I sipped my own beer as I strode along; rear gunner first.

There was someone in the final car. Someone else who wasn't my team.

It was Vivian Lachance, the spotter who we'd interviewed. The one we'd already vetted, and hadn't had a witch hat, the one who'd been on all the missions the French had lost before we'd got here. She was a bit bigger than me, (though not taller!) and well built. Her brown hair was short, and had highlights. She was pretty – but her grin was a little too wide, her blue eyes a little too flat, right now.

Vivian had also been inspected at my insistence and bore the strip search under Alicia's watchful eye with pride. Then she had requested she be the spotter for my team as we went into the forest searching for the witches she'd seen. When I told her no, she tried to insist. I insisted back, and she was benched, left at the French firehouse/base under a few watchful eyes. Something about her had just rubbed me wrong.

So what was she doing here, alone? What exactly were the gunners doing?

“Hello, Sasha.”

“Vivian. Mind telling me how you're not dead, right now?”

She smiled; kind of like my smile when I'm drawing down on a witch.

“Silly Sasha, you know that already, don't you?”

I gave her my own grin and drew. She moved as if she were boneless, twisting around my (low power, I didn't want to get billed for another wrecked train) shots as if they were obvious. Maybe they were, to her; she was fast. She might even be faster than me.

Nah; the return slash from an arm that was now sporting a blade made of water was so slow I was able to just lean back. It was like she couldn't pull off the same speed on the attack… or she was toying with me.

I HATED being toyed with.

Water was spilling down from the gunners nest, dragging a uniform down the ladder. That kind of explained a few things.

The enclosed space wasn't really suited to my combat style. But then again, fire extinguishers were my friend, at least in this case. We had the chemical foam kind, which worked much better than simple compressed water for putting out fires. I put two shots in the one behind her, and it sprayed her in the back as I dodged another swipe.

Turns out she didn't like that.

The slashing sped up; I had to move my beer bottle out of range twice before I could drain it; I flipped the empty at her head, and she dodged that as easily as the shots that followed by twisting around me. Four shots left in my left gun, five in my right, and she was too close to get a good shot out of either. Some racket broke out behind me.

“Sasha, we got a problem!”

I shook my head as I threw myself backward.

“No shit!”

My back wasn't stopped by water Vivian; there was some resistance but I broke through it. I was honestly surprised I wasn't cut to ribbons, Hunt armor or not, but it seemed the foam had done more than slow her down; it had made her lose her edge. Heh.

I managed to get through the door and shut it in her face, buying me a second or two. There was a fire extinguisher in each car, so that was something; but the first one she took didn't seem to hurt her all that much.

“You okay up there, Ivan, Alicia? Fighting water or something else?”

The yell came back as the door in front of me was split in half.

“We're alright, and yes! Ivan, Wendy and I are fighting some sort of water person! It looks like Vivian!”

Good, Wendy didn't seem to actually be a part of this. Well, either that or she was biding her time. Water started to flow in between the door halves, and I shot it; she couldn't really dodge that. It didn't seem to inconvenience her at all but she took her sweet time reforming.

“The fire extinguishers work a little. Got one back here too, ate the gunners somehow.”

Probably dripped down from the ceiling and then ate them, or something.

Vivian reformed and sent a blade arm my way, sending the other when I was out of room; I ended up having to do a handstand on one of the seats to dodge that one. We needed to get off the train; any more damage to it and Gloom would bill me!

Vivian blocked the door with an arm that sprouted blades… so, next car over, taking care to duck under the other arm. Could she only use her arms to attack?

I shut the door on her bladed foot, so that was a no. Maybe it was mass involved somehow, she didn't seem to be pulling a watery puffer fish on me, which would kill just about anyone. I was now in the sleeper car, which was just a long hallway dividing small rooms with small beds. I picked up the fire extinguisher on my way, this time running straight for the dining car. I had an idea I was sure I'd curse myself for in the morning.

“Dining car, everyone!”

The fire extinguishers slowed Vivian down, allowing me to make it; She was pretty fast for a liquid. Ivan, Alicia, and Wendy were already facing off against the other Vivian. Their weapons didn't seem to be doing much either.

“Tequila.”

Alicia threw it with an eye roll, eyes on her opponent. Instead of catching and drinking it (my first instinct) I booted it along and shot it.

The effect was pretty gratifying.

My Vivian shrieked and clawed at herself, giving me time to reach the bar. I started sending bottles downrange at both Vivians while my team and Wendy ducked. Well, Ivan was ducking; Alicia was standing there, sputtering.

“I know Alicia, I know, just throw some!”

She got into the act, throwing bottles with far more abandon (and tears) than I was. I did manage to save the bottle of my favorite rum she threw, curling around it and taking the hit.

“Really, Sasha?!?

I pointed as I got up; the water Vivians had finally finished screaming and dissolving. Seems alcohol was bad for them.

“Do you really want me waking up in the morning, asking where all the rum has gone, Alicia? Really?”

She growled at me.

“I didn't see you holding back when the tequila was on the line.”

Ivan got in between us with a weary sigh.

“Children, please. We need to make sure the train is secure, find the staff or the bodies, and make a call to Central. We can all bicker pointlessly later.”

He had a point.

“Fine, Dibbs on the back of the train, again.”

I took my bottle with me. Wendy acted like she wanted to follow, but I shoo'd her the other way and she followed Alicia and Ivan instead. I could see outside the windows that the entire train station was now clear – it was one hundred percent empty. I set tripwires so nothing could sneak past along the way.

At the back of the train, I found rubbery bones mixed in with the clothes and nothing else. Well, other than the massive mess I hoped Gloom wouldn't make me clean up. At least the sleeper car was mostly intact; just some extinguisher foam in the hall. Then I sighed, went back, and checked all the little rooms. It was all clear. Now we needed to call fro reinforcements just to get the train out; I kind of knew how to do it, but I doubted Gloom would trust us with the task.

Back up front, I found my team in the radio room. The radio was, wonder of all wonders, intact and broadcasting; Ivan was relaying the situation. Central's reply was to tell us they already had a team routed to us, and would put out a priority call for all hunters in the area. None of which helped us now, of course.

I drained the rum; I was pretty tired, but I was even more pissed off.

“What say we try to go find ourselves a witch?”

Wendy looked nervous. “But our teams aren't in any shape to sortie again….”

I shook my head.

“Yeah, and they won't just 'let us' go out alone, which is why we aren't telling them. The Vivian water proves we can't trust them anyway, so let's just go. We know there is something the witch doesn't want us to see, and we know where it is. We find it, we find her.”

But we'd have to go now; a response team was probably already on the way because of the shots. I grabbed one of the emergency bags from under the seat and threw it at Wendy. She actually managed to catch it, staggering in an amusing way as I pulled another bag for me. Ivan and Alicia followed suit. I waited for them all to file out, then raided what was left of the bar; we were gone and back on the street in under a minute.