Chapter 398: The Purge of Vienna Comes to an End
The sun rose over Vienna, but it brought no warmth, no light—only a blood-red sky obscured by the thick, choking smoke of burning buildings. The battle had raged through the night, and though the streets were lined with corpses, the purge was far from over.
The Werwolf Brigade had spent the early hours of the morning consolidating their hold over the city, dividing it into sectors that were systematically cleared one block at a time.
The roar of engines filled the air as armored personnel carriers, infantry fighting vehicles and tanks patrolled the ruins, their mounted guns swiveling in search of any lingering resistance. What little coordination the revolutionaries had was collapsing, their fighters scattered, their lines broken. The purge was entering its final stage.
In the gutted remains of a once-pristine opera house, Major Gunter Mueller stood over a table strewn with city maps, casualty reports, and ammunition manifests. His uniform, bearing the insignia of the Werwolf Brigade and the Iron Division, was stained with soot and dried blood. He pulled a cigarette from a battered tin case, lighting it with a match struck against the edge of the table.
"Sector Five has been cleared,"
an officer reported, his voice devoid of emotion.
"The stronghold near the Danube was overrun. We captured a few dozen combatants. The rest were shot resisting."
Mueller exhaled a plume of smoke while expressing his thoughts in a stoic and emotionless fashion. One that was symbolic of his lack of care or concern for the destruction they had wrought upon Vienna and its people this night.
"Good. Any high-value targets?"
The voice of the officer was equally as merciless as he expressed without thought, nor hesitation of the wicked deeds they had committed in the name of fortune and honoring a contract with the house of Habsburg.