The crusaders were ill prepared for the sudden attack against their fuel depot. This location was used to store the fluids they used for their trademark flame throwers, and while every Purge location was guarded they had not expected the sudden strike. An infrared scanner showed the incoming hostiles, allowing the Purge to set themselves up behind cover. They had dumped their baptizers, and a couple of them had anti-tank rifles, designed to take down enemy armour. They were rare among the Purge, as vampires almost exclusively relied on their regeneration an nigh-immortality to protect them from harm. The rest was using impalers, pump action weapons that fired large metal-reinforced stakes at high speed, with enough force to pierce most armour. However, it was clear from the start that Freelance's humanity would be their foremost advantage.

As Blood managed to reach the snipers, who had set up behind a large window in the Purge building, they proved surprisingly hard to kill. Their armour had been designed to deflect blades, a titanium suit shaped to guide the main force of the blade away from them, and it was only on the second strike that Blood was able to pierce the armour. Even more infuriating was the fact that no matter what Blood did, they simply refused to give up. He tore the Crusader that had wounded him in half, and the top half reached for a rifle. It was only Blood's reflexes that saved him from taking an armour-piercing round to the face, as the sneak attack from the supposedly dead man nearly blew his face off. The other two simply stood back up, mortal wounds not even fazing them as they drew their swords. Their blood flowed from them like a river, but until their brain broke down they would fight. This was the true strength of the Purge, and the true reason for their fearsome reputation. For even a vampire fears an opponent that refuses to die.

Meanwhile, the other Freelance agents would find themselves facing covering fire from the Impalers. Heavy bolts slammed into the Pelican, and on occasion on slid past the armour of an agent. But the power armour was well designed, and these things had never been designed to fight armoured targets. By comparison, bullets were excellent at piercing the plate mail the Crusaders preferred, several dropping to the ground as expertly placed shots blew their faces off. But after only a few wounds they changed their tactics, rushing towards their enemy with no consideration for their own well being. Met with a hail of bullets, they simply charged bullets. Men with holes in their chest simply didn't care, only a few dropping from head wounds. They screamed as they charged, swords drawn, drenched in their own blood. Their words were lost, but the image of the undying charge would be forever branded into the memories of those present, as they desperately unloaded entire clips into the mass of metal and blades.

Outgunned and outmanned, the Purge were destined to lose this fight. But they were determined to take as many Freelancers as possible with them before the outpost fell.