Part of him wanted to run over to wherever Bates was recovering from his trauma and throttle him for such an appalling failure. The other part vaguely understood that there was little that the lieutenant could have done to prevent it. It doesn't matter, he thought. We assaulted the club and encountered calculated strikes from both south and east sides from still-unknown numbers of other enemy forces. There is no possible, tactical way I can finish this. We're done down here.
Olson had been dragged in, unconscious and severely wounded, missing three fingers from his right hand along with sporting at least four other bullet wounds. He had come to long enough to scream and rave something about crazed madmen butchers before passing out again. From what Redgick could gather, he was referring to another down below faction which had joined the fight, spilling out of sewers and other buildings in the midst of the Citizen soldiers. They featured wildly aggressive and haphazard tactics, but Olson's interior had been torn to shreds by the frenzied assault. His men were scattered, disorganized, and frightened by the ferocity of the enemy.
On the other hand, Bates and his remaining forces couldn't provide any information about the ambush group from the east. It sounded as though they attacked, fled, then caught the subsequent pursuit of Bates' men in a crossfire. Efficient and brutal, but no one had seen enough to identify the attackers. The only witness was the lieutenant himself, whose brains had been scrambled by some explosion.
Redgick scowled as he considered the possibilities. Yet another faction out of hiding? Such a coordinated attack on both flanks of the siege of the club? This took planning and consideration to pull off. A small stray thought passed through his head. It's almost like…
It dawned on him, as though his head had broken the surface of turbulent waters. They knew we were coming. A world of possibilities spread through him as his stressed mind began to frantically fire around ideas.
If they were careful enough to detect an attack and respond accordingly, that meant they used careful intelligence gathering. If they minimized their casualties by utilizing careful hit and run tactics, then it implied a familiarity with strategic planning. If more than one faction was involved, that meant alliances had been formed, and they were no longer a loose rabble of undesirables.
Redgick's hand gripped the back of a chair, his knuckles turning white. All of this meant one terrible thing: the people of Old Haven were not some passing nuisance or mild annoyance. They were a real, tangible, and serious threat. They were organized, unified, and they had learned how to fight. He almost didn't want to believe it, but the proof of it rested with two hundred of his men, killed in a strike both swift and brutally efficient. Then what would an intelligent military leader do next in this case? he asked himself. His eyes widened, knowing the exact answer. He would send a vicious strike against the nearly-crippled enemy forces engaged in retreat… We need to get out of here, he thought.
Of course! He ran to the radio and called the other base. They had a direct line with the surface and could send for reinforcements. "Alpha base, come in!"
"This is Alpha, go ahead."
"Has there been any contact with the surface since our last communication?"
"Yes, sir. They requested an update, and as per instructions they were informed of the delay but an overall smooth campaign." There was a pause as the tech cleared his throat. "The High Inquisitor did not sound very happy about the setback. He said-"
"Look, it isn't important right now!" he said sharply, cutting the man off. "I need you to contact the surface again and tell them to send every available soldier or... or Inquisitor as reinforcements. Tell them everything we thought about the inhabitants was wrong. Tell them we were attacked by a highly trained force of unified factions. Tell them that they knew we were coming!"
There was silence on the other end. Finally, the man spoke, dropping regulations, "Jesus. Are you serious?"
"Yes! Do it now!" Redgick shouted.
"All right! Okay, I'll contact them right away!" the tech shouted back. "If they send troops, where do you want them to go?"
"We set up Gamma base inside of an empty liquor store building about a mile and a half southeast of the target. It's by, hold on," he ducked his head out the window and saw a bent and faded street sign, "Trenton Avenue. Send them in this direction, and tell them to hurry. If enemy forces discover our location, I believe they'll send a counter-attack." Tension once again filled his voice. "We're going to try and pack up and vacate this area, but tell them to hurry; I don't know if we can hold them off if they come here."
"Yes, sir. I'll contact them immediately, sir."
"Good. Thank you." He put the radio down and breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing just slightly. With reinforcements, we might just make it, he thought. Of course, even if we make it out, they're going to flay me alive. He walked outside and barked some orders to uninjured soldiers waiting for instruction. He kept some on a wide patrol pattern with specific direction to avoid enemy contact and provide an immediate report if they found anything. Back inside he started coordinating the teardown of Gamma base. God willing, we'll come back to finish this sometime soon, he thought.
The prospect that they had so severely underestimated their enemy still made him nervous, but with more proper attention, he knew they could not possibly stand against the full attention of the Citizen regime.