The goblin's first wave sent arcs of lighting flying in every direction. Bright, blazing fulmination engulfing a whole host of turrets. Frying their electronic components and lighting their stored ammunition on fire.

The night came alive with the roars of rising fires. Our top of the line equipment having been reduced to little more than funeral pyres within seconds.

The second wave picked up the funnel. His magic dispelling and re-attaching to the outer iron frame. Like fingers of mist forming and deforming around the box, until at last they engulfed and lifted it up. The goblin snapped his fingers and a lighting bolt fell from the sky. It was so large and thick that, for a moment, it seemed as though a blueish-purple pillar had been erected there instead. The energy lingering in the area for a few precious heartbeats before finally dissipating.

I frowned. Taking in the awesome might of the blast.

Then, I turned back to assess the state of their target. The frail old grandmother shivering in my chair, the iron mesh still wrapped over her own dress.

My attention drifted away from her as the rising magic in the air made my skin break out in goosebumps. My eyes wandering away until they rested on my old gear. On the hammer.

I narrowed my eyes.

'Not yet. Not until the target's been secured and any hindrances have been dealt with. The funnel did its thing and teleportation will stay affected for another hour or so. We have everything on hand for now. My boys are doing their thing and they're doing it well. I have to trust them. The last thing I need is for some scout to swoop in and steal her away when I'm busy pulverizing his boss. Not to mention the chances of being ambushed mid-swing.'

My hand went to my scar once more. The rough texture sending more rage and adrenaline into my system.

'Stop it fool. Control yourself. Focus on the bigger picture.'

The warlock out there had to be level 3. At the very least. Possibly higher.

Which meant the grandmother was in serious trouble. We could take him out. Or, rather, I could. But that would leave me, our trump card, occupied while their target remained in place.

That tea she drunk likely contained several enchantments layered atop each other. A charming spell for sure. Probably two separate tracking spells on top of that. With a minor weakening curse to seal the deal.

No. The area would have to be fortified further before I left and her path of retreat had to be secured.

"This is Weasel going for Burrow. Over."

"Badger here Weasel. Standing by. Over."

"Mole here Weasel. Standing by. Over."

"Mole. Get the rest of your squad up here with me and Apple. Activate deterrents 1, 3 and 6 before you leave and barricade the door to the basement on your way up. Over."

"Copy that Weasel."

Good.

The shrapnel and chemical sprayers wouldn't stop a scrying attempt or a makeshift portal, but they would leave anything that tried those avenues in a world of hurt once they tried to sneak in that way. Which was all we could hope for, now that one or more Quislings had compromised the premises. The target would have to be extracted through one of our usual routes once the tracking spell wore off.

"Badger. Send out two units to rendezvous with nearby sensors. Activate the Cyclops protocol in our pre-designated location and get ready to activate the Lemay protocol on Burrow."

"Copy that Weasel."

I frowned at is tone. Where Mole had remained professional, Badger had allowed some emotion to slip through. Understandable, under the circumstances, but far from ideal.

I turned my eyes back to the screen. Tracking this Gokoran fellow as he rode his monster through the torn-up soil.

He was snapping his fingers at uneven intervals as he hummed. Ripping landmines away from their hiding places and sending them flying in all directions. Shocking explosions rocked the neighborhood. Sending shattered shards of wood and plaster up into the air as all the nearby houses imploded.

A Suggestion was dropped in front of the party, with another two being deposited near their flanks. The wizard lifted those up too, only to hiss a stream of curses as cold iron rained down on him and his minions.

Those moving on foot near the edges of the formation were killed outright. The hot scrap shredding their enchantments and weakening the magical integrity of the whole group. In these cases, the idea was for the fallen bodies and wounded survivors would slowly weaken the mage, as his efforts would be stifled by the presence of the metal within the bodies. Add in the shards embedded within the previous waves and the magic would slowly be suffocated out of the area.

However, if the mage was dissuaded or otherwise perturbed, he didn't show it. Remaining stoic even as his troops faced the Intra. Their shells turning into running, screaming candles lighting up the night as their veins caught fire from within. Green skin and hexed fabric sloughing off of them like grease off a burger.

Gokoran waved in a circular fashion. Moving his arms around the front of his body until they met at the center of his frame. He clapped, once, then twice. The sharp slaps silencing all his soldiers, before sending their remains careening into the sad remains of the houses around the park. Setting fires throughout the area.

More soldiers came out of the portal to replace the old ones. Their cruel leader moving onwards without the slightest acknowledgement of the massacre.

The drones that still held payloads hovered away so as to not be taken out of the action too soon. Those that had dropped their Suggestions dove at the growing mob. Descending like hawks in pursuit of mice.

Gokoran intercepted them too, but did not account for the frag grenades they carried within them. Nor did he predict the generous helpings of powdered cyanide or white phosphorus contained within the few drones housing chemical grenades instead of conventional ones.

The surprises did not affect him. Rapid winds collecting the falling death and gathering into clumps around him. No doubt in preparation for another throw.

It was then that Falcon, Turtle and Parrot squads took their shots. Aiming at his head, heart, stomach and spine from roughly two-dozen angles. Each unit having followed our battle-plans for re-enforcements and spread out to different sniper nests.

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Iron-tipped death flew towards Gokoran. Their travels bringing a sadistic smile to the goblin's face. His crimson eyes ran red with crackling fires. Lines of red and orange embers leaping from within his sockets.

The iron made it through one shield. Then two. Before suddenly careening away and hitting the conscripts walking slightly behind him. Their corresponding parts exploding in the same locations my snipers had targeted on Gokoran.

More troops merely walked out of the portal to replace the ones he lost. Not showing any fear or dread in their revolting features.

Gokoran kept moving. His great beast sauntering towards the designated Burrow without a care in the world.

The wizard laughed. He actually brought his head back and mocked us openly.

His mouth was still moving when the second volley arrived. Bulkier, more well-armored goblins exploded in showers of gore in place of their leader once more. Only, less fell during this round.

Falcon's squad having fired a fraction of a second after Turtle and Parrot's own. These caught Gokoran at the exact instant his shields were falling back into himself. The spell having taken too much damage at once and necessitating a re-cast.

Gokoran's eyes flashed a brighter red of red mere instants before the metallic missiles arrived. Turning his body violently at the last possible moment. That was how the shot that should have gone through his right eye ended up grazing his skull. Taking his right ear clean off and leaving a weeping, oozing gash from whence he bled.

Two more shots found his chest though. One bouncing off an emergency amulet and another embedding itself deep within his left lung.

The last remaining bullet found his ride instead. Ventilating the monster's skull in the fashion of cartel executions. Bits of yellowed brain matter staining the grass below it. The beast fell and did not rise again.

Once more, the soldiers started panicking after their leader took damage. Some in the rear dropping their spear and trying to flee back into the portal. Only for their incoming comrades to disembowel them in cold blood.

Gokoran wheezed. Looking down at himself as if he honestly couldn't believe this was happening. His grubby, ring-filled fingers clutching at his chest as if to stem the bleeding. All the while, his ear lay behind him on the ground and his spittle was changing color as his vitae flowed up and through his throat.

He made some signs with his thumbs and another light enveloped him. His wounds struggling to close in spite of the anti-magical iron resting inside the warlock.

"B-Bastards! Barbarians! How! How!? How dare you! How dare you touch me!? ME!?" He coughed. Chucking a bit of lung through his mouth as his chest tried to knit itself back together. "

I'll turn you all into roaches and watch as you're eaten by spiders and ants! I swear I'll...!"

Ten more shots found him simultaneously. Another Suggestion falling right atop his head in order to seal the deal.

The flow of soldiers did not stop. It didn't even slow down. Instead, new units clashed against the old ones. Stabbing and striking at them with spears and flails of decorated silver. Slaying the deserters until they too realized their leader had been felled and was rapidly being consumed in cleansing fire.

Then, they too ran, only for the cycle to repeat itself when the new arrivals cut them down in turn.

Worse, the clouds of gaseous Intra were still wafting over the whole park. Inundating all life with the deadly chemical cocktail.

Once a few drops made it through the skin and into the bloodstream, a new candle would light up the night. The bonfires spreading as more Intra was activated. Either before breaching the skin or half-way through their journey.

No amount of magical armor would be able to save them then. The legions that had laughed in the face of common ammunition turning into so much boiling slurry as their bones charred and blackened inside their breastplates.

There were screams as well. Horrible, drawn-out cries of anguish. Curses flying out at no one in particular.

The corner of my lips curled upwards. Ever so slightly.

'There were a few bumps on the road, but we managed. As always. I'd even go so far as to say that we overperformed. That Gokoran runt must have been an elite if he had other mages working under him. His death here might have saved a couple thousand soldiers out in the trenches. Not to mention the lives saved by keeping Granny here.'

I turned my head to look at her. Realizing that she was done coughing up bile and had settled into a stance of passive detachment. Her head rocking back and forth while her eyes didn't perceive anything in particular.

Mole and his squad knocked on the door then. Distracting me from her current state.

I checked all three of the cameras and the heat sensors before buzzing them in. My hand on my pistol in case anything other than them came up to greet us.

"Mole. Report." I said sharply. Still gripping my gun.

"Deterrents have been placed. We're ready to go for the Lemay protocol as soon as we're clear. Badger and co have started tearing down the barricades blocking the back door. He should be done in two minutes."

His eyes wandered over the target. Then over to the gunshots.

"We didn't hear any shots being fired."

"I assumed as much when none of you came running up the stairs." I replied casually. Finally releasing my weapon.

While I couldn't see any of their faces, their trepidation showed through their postures.

I shook my head.

"This much is nothing. Muffling spells are some of the cheapest to use for the goblins and a well-placed one can ensure that no one comes to interrupt a kidnapping."

"Then why weren't we here with you?"

I turned my head to face the owner of that voice. So did Mole.

"What's your callsign rookie?" I asked casually while my subordinate tensed.

"Flounder." The rookie answered. His tone still filled with accusatory undertones.

"Well then, Flounder. Let me walk you through a scenario. Imagine that goblin mage is trying to set up a tracking spell. With a medium, no less. The funnel takes away their ability to teleport, for the most part. While their magic starts to lose track of the poor old granny they're trying to kidnap because of the iron panels."

I pointed to all the re-enforced walls for effect.

He nodded.

"Now, the goblins face a bit of a predicament. They could rely on Quislings but the public executions have put a bit of a hamper on the idea of selling out humanity. Even if we don't get to traitors, the mobs will and they tend to be less than understanding, if you get my meaning. Beyond that, collaborators tend to be either careless or wholly incompetent, making their use more of a gamble than anything. One they'll still attempt, but this approach typically isn't their main one. A far more common tactic is to use marked individuals. Tell me, Flounder. Do you know what a Fae-mark is?"

"Its a tattoo. That allows a human to use magic. Like fairy dust."

"Oh yes. That is certainly one way those could be used." I nodded sagely. "However. It is not the only way. People can be marked against their will. Through, interesting circumstances. Heck, sometimes the tattoo itself isn't visible and the mark appears to be a mole or a rash that only swells up once every two months. Something inconspicuous. In these cases, the human is loaded with sleeping magic that they cannot use. Its like a dormant infection that only triggers once certain conditions are met."

I pointed at him.

"Tell me, Flounder. Do you want to take this grandmother away?"

"No! Of course not!"

"Good." I clapped. "Because I'd have to kill you. And I don't like killing people if I can help it. Now, compulsion effects are usually too powerful to pass our sensors undetected and too costly for the potential prize of a single grandmother to be worth it. Tracking effects though.... they are ridiculously easy to place and almost impossible to catch unless they're active. If enough of them are concentrated in a room... say, one where two or three people are guarding a granny; then a cadre of mages would be able to bypass the funnel entirely. If only for a few moments. The reason why I was allowed to stay here instead of you, dear Flounder, is that I cannot be marked. Nor can I be affected by most magics."

"Huh? That's impossible. Nobody's immune to magic. You'd have to be...."

He stopped. His goggles locking onto my scar.

Mole grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

"You and I are going to have a long conversation after this rookie." He growled.

"I...I didn't. I couldn't.... She's...."

"You will keep you mouth shut until then. Rookie. If you know what's good for you."

Flounder stared at him. Then at me.

He swallowed so loudly that the sound echoed within the walls of the attic.

"Enough. This isn't the time to be suspicious of each other. We'll be moving downstairs and getting ready for evac in..."

All the monitors buzzed and all the sound systems screeched.

Making me wince and sending all my men to the floor.

I turned around to see what was going on, and chanced a glance at Gokoran. Or, rather, what was left of his skeleton.

The small bones were floating in the air. Beside a large, green diamond that had separated from his jewel-encrusted belt.

The gem shone brighter as the shadows near it grew deeper. Darker.

"Necromancer!" Flounder wailed. "We're all gonna die!"

The grandmother we'd been tasked with protecting shot to her feet at that.

"We are!?"

"No." I assured her and Flounder at the same time.

"This isn't our first rodeo. We'll get through this."

I went back to the desk and began tuning back to the entire company.

Focusing my mind on this final struggle of the skirmish and refusing to think on those, who might not see the end of it.