Germans were flying all around. Though they were his countrymen, Krauss had long since begun thinking of them as the enemy. Close by him were Claw defenders, led by the man nicknamed "Basilisk" who had a tattoo of a lizard on his arm.
Basilisk was leading his troops in a bomb rush at the German invaders. There were, however, no invaders very close. They would just tire themselves out rushing forward like that.
"Stop, Basilisk!" yelled Krauss.
The soldier turned and stared at the general with cold yellow eyes.
"Don't leap in headlong! Get up that tree there and locate the bikers!"
Krauss pointed at a large tree which had been planted in the middle of the city. Basilisk bobbed his head then leaped onto a great branch in the tree. He scrambled to the top of the tree, and popped out on a top branch. Basilisk scanned the horizon. A German biker looked up and fired an AS gun at him.
The bullets whizzed past the Basilisk head, causing him to lose his balance. He teetered on the edge of the branch for a second, then fell. He plummeted towards earth, or, more accurately, towards General Krauss. Krauss looked up for a second.
"Oh, sh..."
Basilisk slammed headlong into Krauss' chest. The general was flattened instantly, and the Basilisk lay stunned on top of him.
"I've located the bikers," said Basilisk.
Krauss growled and flung Basilisk off his stomach, as an army of motorcycles swarmed around them. They both jumped up to crouching positions.
"We need bikers to take on the Germans," Krauss yelled over the din to Basilisk.
"We'll need bikes, too, general," Basilisk pointed out.
Krauss nodded. He stood up. He pulled from the holster on his side an officer's pistol which fired shells. Fire from the Germans was swirling all around him. He brought the weapon to bear and aimed at one of the Germans.
"Good God, general, get down or you'll be shot!" Basilisk screamed.
"Grow a backbone, colonel," Krauss replied.
He followed the biker's path for a moment and then pulled the trigger. The German tumbled off of his motorcycle, and the bike screeched along the ground, throwing up sparks.
"Eins!" yelled out Krauss.
He brought his gun to bear again. He popped a shell into the head of another cyclist.
"Zwei!"
Basilisk began firing, too. He was still crouching and was trying to break out of the tightening trap of motorcycles.
"I can't be in the middle of a battle! I'm a logistics officer, for God's sake!" Basilisk yelled.
"Yeah, get back to the gun emplacements around the walls of the city and begin firing inward."
"Inward? Are you out of your mind?"
"Drei! It'll stop the Germans, won't it? Vier!"
Krauss tried to fire again, but he was out of shells. Fortunately the attackers had taken all the damage they were willing to take and were concentrating elsewhere in the city. Krauss reholstered his empty pistol as he began walking towards Basilisk.
"I've secured four motorrads. Now I need four drivers. Can they drive?" he asked, pointing towards four Claw men with their backs turned, "You there! Ihr da!"
"They can't hear you, general. Those four are deaf. Too much punk rock."
Basilisk picked up a pebble and chucked it at one of the four men. All four of them turned around. They were wearing leather jackets covered with spikes, patches, and chains. They were all shaved bald and two of them had nose rings.
"I'll just assume they can ride," Krauss said, rolling his eyes.
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