The White Aryan Resistance was dropped in together.

Ever since their compound was taken down in a violent siege by law enforcement in 2022, the warden of Redemption Incorporated's Utah facility was looking for a way to get rid of the entire gang, lock stock and barrel. Malleus spent a year and a half negotiating a price for the entire militia, with the intention of dropping them off in Baltimore's, one of America's blackest and most violent cities. 

WAR loved the idea. Wilhelm Heinrich (William Henry) Straussner, the leader, was finally getting the race war he always wanted. They were the first infusion of criminals into Baltimore; Malleus wanted a war in the streets, and they got it by sending heavily armed white supremacists into bad neighborhoods run by the Black Guerrilla Family. The anticipation of watching that storied street gang and an Idaho-based white supremacy militia had viewers glued to the feeds provided by the miniature drones constantly buzzing overhead.

The bombed out landscape of West Baltimore turned out to be a deathtrap for WAR, a maze of rowhouses inhabited by tough, stringy, pissed off ghetto residents that sprouted automatic weapons overnight, assisted by drops from Malleus. They weren't the most proficient with their weapons, but neither was WAR. The typical WAR grunt was a trailer-raised white person with a lot of bad tattoos that nonetheless enjoyed wearing camouflage as a militant fashion statement and toted a Kalashnikov and some other equipment. They were big, bearded boys and they got the idea that this was going to be an easy fight because they shot a preacher and a couple older black folks on their way in. WAR didn't expect organized guerrilla insurgency, but that's what they got. IED here, sniping there, grenades and molotovs over the fences. The confines of the rowhouses and the narrow streets, boxed in with parked junker cars and trash containers and other junk, created tight confines and no visibility that made Normandy's bocage look like a cakewalk. The locals didn't like the street gangs, but that was before the entire city was turned into a warzone. They'd joined up when it became apparent that a bunch of pissed off white supremacists were going to invade, and put up a surprisingly unified front -- they saw the way those fuckers shot the preacher, they knew they were violent and genocidal.

Weeks of fighting for the ghetto was wearing thin on WAR's supplies and it seemed like the locals had the shit (and drugs) stockpiled for the long haul -- the ghetto was trading their drug supply for more ammo and using it sparingly -- a lot of the traps were welded together from metal junk and cunningly built to kill while conserving ammo. 

And then Malleus' next drop came...supplies in downtown. Compared to West Baltimore, Downtown was a doozy...and WAR, being mobile on bikes and pickups, came roaring in for it. 

What Malleus didn't tell them was that the second drop of criminals came in. Crazy fuckers like Cro-Magnum and Cartoid. They weren't organized, but they were at least as crazy as WAR...

Sanger was trying to get away from these guys when he heard the noise of diesel coming from a ways off, and knew that there was nothing good about that situation. In the holding facility they'd been stuck in, they were given feeds of Urban Apocalypse, which was watched gleefully while a bunch of them shot up, smoked up or jerked off, but now the reality was hitting home -- they were dropped in place to create a spectacle for a TV audience that wanted to see someone die, and they didn't care who.
 
"Fuck," Sanger breathed.