Chapter One: Evaluation Day
Author note: spoilers for 03x13: Fault Lines. Pretty much the entire episode. And I am using dialogue from the episode. This story is the thirty-third in the Magical Flashpoint series. It follows "Broken Dawn".
Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own Flashpoint, Harry Potter, Narnia, or Merlin.
The man behind the desk chuckled as he placed his call. How appropriate that the very technology the Muggles had introduced to his world would be part of their downfall… The phone rang twice, then was picked up.
"Hello?"
"Have you had time to peruse the file?" the man asked, skipping pleasantries as his eyes gleamed with excitement. It had been long and long since he'd personally involved himself in more than planning and behind the scenes execution…he'd forgotten how enjoyable it was to see a plan come together, to tip the row of dominos and have a front row seat to the fallout.
There was a disturbed silence from the other. "I have," he finally responded. "I also pulled his official file; none of what you found is in there."
The man in the office allowed a deep sigh of regret. "I feared as much," he murmured. "You see, then, my concerns?"
A sputter. "How is he even still on-duty?" the other blurted in dismay.
Another sigh of regret, this one with tinges of remorse. "Quite simply? There is no one to take his place. That and a great deal of political influence of his own." The man let that hang, glee showing on his face, even as none showed in his voice. "It must be completely legitimate, you understand? If there is even a whiff that his removal is motivated by…our concerns…his political 'allies' will act and all our efforts to pull him back from the edge will fail."
Silence lingered on the phone line and the man in the office forced himself to wait patiently. Finally, the other party spoke, "I believe I understand your concerns. It…will not be easy…and I cannot promise success…but I think I know a way to accomplish what you ask."
"And?" Patience, patience, the man reminded himself, though he clutched the phone tighter in his excitement.
"If this works, we will not have to do anything, sir. They will do all the work for us."
"What do you have in mind?"
The faintest of smiles came through in the other man's voice. "You'll see."
Constable Ed Lane pulled into the parking lot of SRU Headquarters in his black Ford Flex Limited; the car gleamed in the late spring sun and its owner parked and retrieved his bag as he got out. The constable started walking towards the building, then halted as he stared up at it. Once again, he asked himself when it had come to this…when Sophie had gotten so fed up with his job that she couldn't take it anymore.
As he had every other time, he pushed his dilemma away and strode into the building, a smile coming to his face as he spotted Winnie and two of his teammates in the atrium. "Word up!"
All three looked over and Wordy shot Ed a wide grin, calling, "Eddie!"
Spike, peeking around the column he was leaning against, grinned himself and added, "Big day."
"Study hard?" Ed jibed as he rounded Winnie's desk.
"What's that thing called?" Spike asked immediately, plastering a confused look on his face.
"Yeah, yeah, the long metal thing," Wordy agreed, laughter gleaming in his eyes.
"Loud noises…" Ed led, as solemn as a teacher coaching a struggling student.
Spike's eyes cleared and he pointed at Ed with a triumphant, "Gun!" As Ed pointed back and grinned, Spike questioned, "See? Why do we have to requalify?"
Before Ed could reply or Wordy could toss in another joke, Donna Sabine appeared behind them. Though Ed was still getting used to having another SRU team 'in the know', he found he rather liked it. This year, they all knew, the Boss would have to do the evals despite the incredibly difficult past few weeks he'd been through, but maybe next year, Team Three's primary negotiator could pick up a bit of the load as well.
"Hey, hey," Donna greeted them all.
"Donna," Ed returned.
"Edward," she drawled, before asking, "You guys ready to get your butts kicked?"
Ed's eyes lit up. "Your team's playing the bad guys?"
"Yeah."
Keeping his expression steady, though his eyes danced with suppressed mirth, Ed clarified, "Let me get this right: Team Three against Team One?"
"Yeah, that's right." She could see where he was going, but Donna wasn't giving an inch.
A slight grin broke through as Ed teased, "Team Three against Team One?"
"Yeah," she jibed, "Go suit up. And, uh…"
Ed's humor faded. "What's going on?"
The blonde head turned towards the nearby room, then back. "Commander Holleran wants to see you in the briefing room."
"Okay," Ed acknowledged, though a twinge of unease surged.
"I'll see you out there," Sabine volleyed before departing.
As Ed headed for the briefing room, he heard his boss's voice rise, just a bit. "Commander, why the last minute change? And if you knew things were going this way, you could've told me before today."
"Could've told you what?" Ed demanded as he entered the briefing room. "What's going on?" He looked between his boss and Commander Holleran expectantly.
It was Holleran who spoke. "We've got somebody else to do your team's psychological evaluation this year."
Confusion, backed by unease, surged. "Sir, almost a third of our calls are classified," Ed protested. "Until last week, the Boss was the only guy who could do the evals. What, are you going to have Team Three's primary negotiator do them?"
Although, ordinarily, Ed would have resented even the idea of Greg not doing the evals, even a blind man could see that the Sergeant was struggling to keep his emotional balance after a year of close calls, both work-related and personal; quite simply, Greg needed help, needed a break, before he broke. The problem with getting that help had always been the magic-side hot calls and Madame Locksley's stubborn refusal to bring another SRU team into the Auror SRU…it left Team One and their Sergeant with no one but Greg to do the evals; no one else had access to all the information needed for the psychological evaluations.
Commander Holleran frowned, shaking his head. "No, not Team Three's negotiator," he replied, a tinge of regret in his voice. "We need someone more objective."
"Objective?" Ed inquired, incredulity in his voice. Even the most objective person in the world couldn't do a proper evaluation without Official Secrets Act clearance. And, judging by the look on Holleran's face, that was not the case with whoever was doing the evals.
"Your team's had a lot of tough calls."
"That's the job," Ed countered. "And our toughest have been magic-side."
Holleran ignored the 'magic-side' emphasis. "Twice as many traumatic calls as any other team. We need to see if there are any weak links, stress fractures…"
"Excuse me?" Ed's voice oozed outrage. Bad enough his boss was being pushed aside, but now his team was being insulted?
The Boss stepped in, likely sensing the impending eruption. "I'm gonna be in the room, Eddie." An expectant look was turned on Holleran. "Right, Commander?"
"You'll observe," Holleran conceded, though he tossed the Sergeant a mild warning look.
"Observe?" was Ed's incredulous echo.
Then Holleran dropped an even bigger bomb. "Donna Sabine's gonna run your team through tactical requalification."
"I drill my own team," Ed hissed, hackles rising. First the evals, now this?
"She's gonna run you through the shoot house, test your team's skills, and then break you down individually."
Something was wrong with this picture and Ed hated not having the whole picture. "Okay," he growled, "What the heck's going on?"
To Ed's supreme displeasure, Greg stepped in again. "Thank you, Commander." The Sergeant ushered his team leader away with a quiet, "Come on."
As the two left, Ed glanced at his boss, inwardly still seething. "You knew about this," he accused.
"Just take it easy," Greg murmured. "We've got nothing to worry about."
Ed wasn't sure he agreed with that; visions of Jill Hastings and her fury over the blacked out transcript danced through his head. That had been one transcript…how much angrier would the mystery psychologist be at being denied dozens of transcripts?
Donna Sabine led the way towards the SRU training area, giving them the initial brief. Ahead of them were the two primary practice buildings, one a squat two story affair with a flat roof and a high railing around it. The building sported both indoor and outdoor stairs, giving both attackers and defenders multiple ways in or out and none of the large windows around the structure had any glass. Nearby, a second building with five stories in the front and two-and-a-half in the back loomed. It would not be used for any of the tests Team One had to pass, even though they'd all been in it many times before. On a grassy area between Team One and the second building, an obstacle course had already been set up, for use later in the day.
"Okay, you got ninety seconds upon entry to clear the building," Donna finished, turning to walk the last few steps backwards
"Ninety seconds?" Spike questioned.
"Yeah," Donna confirmed with a nod. "Does that worry you, Spike? Spending a little too much time in the truck?"
"No, I mean, ninety seconds- I'm gonna have to bring a book or a magazine or something," Spike retorted, drawing laughter from his teammates.
"All right," Ed drawled, "You got any more surprises for us?"
"Of course. Think this was a pony ride?" Donna questioned.
"Let's do it," Parker decided.
"Okay, five minutes," Donna called, backing up before turning to job towards the building. "Gear up, figure out a tac plan."
As soon as she was gone, Spike's humor dropped. "Guys? Ninety seconds?"
"Spike, that's what the cross training's for," Ed replied, outwardly unconcerned.
"Standard test's three minutes," Wordy muttered.
"Nothing about this year's been standard," Lou countered quietly, though he looked just as unhappy as the rest about the ninety seconds requirement.
"What's going on?" Sam asked, "Why is Donna running this?"
"Yeah," Spike agreed, "Why we got outsiders running the psych test?"
"Yeah," Ed observed, staring straight at his Sergeant, "That's a good question."
Jules picked up on the undertones immediately. "Do you know who's doing it?" she inquired of their Sergeant.
"Time and place," Parker chided. "Let's focus."
Ed accepted that with nary a stumble. "Okay," he decided, "They're gonna be looking for two entry teams, we are gonna give them three. They're going to be glued to the doors; we are going to take the windows. So Spike, Wordy, Lou: Black Bravo Two. Jules, Sam: Black Bravo One."
"We'll go in with hooks," Sam put in.
"Boss and I'll take the back door," Ed continued, "We need you guys to clear and cover our entry."
"Copy that," Jules acknowledged.
"And remember," Ed finished, starting forward, followed by his team, "Slow is smooth, smooth is fast…"
Together Team One called, "Fast is lethal!"
The man who arrived wore an impeccable black suit and tie along with plain black wingtip shoes, and carried two bulky suitcases, one silver, one brown. He strode into the open briefing room, his stride unhurried and his professional demeanor already in place. As he entered, the room's ambient light shone against his close cut silver hair.
Team One raced around the side of the training building, equipment already in hand and ready to go. Spike, Wordy, and Lou carried hooks and climbing rope in their hands; already they scanned the building for the best spot to throw their hooks. Every member of Team One now had large goggles around their necks, ready to pull up and protect their eyes from the grenades about to be thrown into the subject building. The group stopped by two windows and the three hook throwers twirled the hooks and tossed them up to the building's roof, where they snagged on the railing and held.
"Let's set the hooks room by room and watch your blind spots," Ed yelled as the first hook flew upwards. "We'll link up second floor," the team leader added as the second hook flew. "Blocks on point, cover with rifles!" The last hook soared and the three climbers approached the ropes and prepared to hold them steady while their teammates entered. "Sam, Jules, let's go!"
The first smoke grenade flew through the farthest window and the assault was on. Parker tossed the second grenade, sticking close to his partner as Ed yelled, "Bravo Two, hard entry, more grenades!"
As Sam braced himself against the wall and Jules raced forward, the team leader ordered, "Hit 'em hard, smoke 'em out!" Sam gave Jules a leg up to the window and Jules grunted as she grabbed hold and pulled herself up.
"Let's go!" Ed roared as Jules disappeared and Sam darted away to let Wordy take his place and give the blond sniper a leg up through the same window. As Wordy pushed Sam upwards, Ed called, "Break your wing, eyes left. I'm on point."
Even as he spoke, Lane and Parker fell back to the outside staircase and headed up to reach the back door. "Sam, Word, cover us," Ed barked over the comm; nearby, the trio of climbers attacked the ropes and started up the side of the wall, keeping their eyes open. "They're gonna be stacked at the door. Go, go, go, let's move! Show them how it's done!"
Inside, Sam and Jules headed through the first hallway, checking for any ambushes as they moved. Jules whipped around a doorway right next to her and fired, taking out the first subject. "One down. Sam's on his way," she reported.
Inside the briefing room, the new arrival set down a stack of light blue folders with a thump. Each was marked with the Strategic Response Unit seal and each represented the official file of a member of Team One. Carefully, methodically, the man picked up the first file, opening it to reveal Jules' picture. After a brief inspection, he placed her file on the desk, open, and picked up the next folder to reveal Sam's file and picture. He placed Sam's file right below Jules'.
"Twenty seconds from entry," Spike called as he, Wordy, and Lou climbed.
Lou, in the lead, called, "Wordy, cover me from a window."
Wordy, in the middle, grunted acknowledgement and kept moving.
The man inside the briefing room set down Lou's file, just below Spike's, and picked up the next file, opening it to see Wordy's picture. He started a new stack of open folders with Wordy's file.
As he headed up the stairs, Parker tossed another smoke grenade into the subject building, but stayed focused on the door as, behind him, Ed called, "Sam, we are in position."
"Sam, talk to us," Parker added, reaching the door as the grenade he'd tossed started smoking and hissing as it released its gas.
With only two folders left, the man inside the briefing room opened the first with a snap, laying down Parker's file below Wordsworth's. The final folder was opened and set down; Ed Lane glaring up from his photo. Step one complete.
Inside the building, an alarm wailed, signaling the training session in progress; Sam moved steadily, ignoring the alarm with the ease of long practice. "There's one on the door," he reported quietly, moving to a better angle. As soon as he reached it, he fired, calling, "Two down!"
At nearly the same instant, Ed and Greg surged through their door; Ed fired as he entered. "Number three down!" he yelled.
"Forty seconds left," Greg reported as he and Ed joined Sam.
Jules caught up as Sam hissed, "Jules, basement."
"Stay alert! Two targets left," Parker called as he and Ed split from Jules and Sam, heading for one side of the building and the staircase towards the roof. In the lead, Ed kept his weapon ready, but aimed down, checking for any signs of the final two subjects as he moved. At the stairs, they found one of the subjects, firing down the stairs and driving the two SRU cops back and out of range.
As he and Ed took cover, Greg suggested, "Flash bang and cover fire?"
"I don't like the percentages," Ed replied as the shooting continued.
In the briefing room, the silver-haired man opened up his brown suitcase, gently unhooking the lid of the case from the bottom, where an old machine rested. Though old, it was well cared for and in perfect working order. Its owner checked it to make sure it had arrived safely, then ran a hand over the label in one corner. Polygraph. Picking up a red pen from the other side of the case, the man moved away, his eyes examining the table and the other polygraph machine.
Serious gray-blue eyes regarded his preparations and he mentally judged whether or not he was ready for the task ahead. Clean-shaven, with brows that were still dark, unlike his hair, and with lines on his forehead and below his eyes, the psychologist was a man who regarded his job with the utmost respect and care. While not flashy or openly heroic, he believed that, in his own way, he saved lives by ensuring that those he interviewed and tested were as fit for duty as it was humanly possible to be. His standards were exact and his adherence to the moral codes of his job even more so.
Finished with his final inspection, he looked up and walked along the table, regarding the mounted screen and the images on it thoughtfully. Team One…a team of cops often seen as heroes and called in to deal with the worst situations. He'd familiarized himself as much as possible with their files and also requested to see those files marked as 'classified'. It irked him that his request had been summarily denied, seemingly without even a flicker of consideration, but he would make do. The files he had been given were a wealth of data, after all.
It was as he was regarding the computer screen that Commander Holleran arrived, suspicion in his deep brown eyes. Though Parker certainly needed help, Holleran did not understand why that help had to come in the form of this man.
"Who's first?" the psychologist inquired without turning.
"Listen, uh…" Holleran began.
"Second thoughts?" the other inquired.
Brown eyes hardened. "As I'm sure you know, I never had first thoughts," Holleran returned. "However good you are, we both know you're working with incomplete data."
The psychologist did not deny it. Instead, he pointed out, "That can still be remedied."
Holleran shook his head. "You don't have Official Secrets Act clearance."
Surprise flashed through gray-blue eyes. "I wasn't aware the Official Secrets Act was still around," he remarked. "I thought it had been replaced."
"Most of it was," Holleran agreed, watching the psychologist closely. "But the calls you've been denied access to all fall under the provisions that remain."
A thoughtful expression crossed the psychologist's face as he took in and considered Holleran's reply. "Then on that matter, we are at both an impasse and an agreement." At the startled look he got, he smiled. "You are correct that I'm working with incomplete data, but that can't be helped."
As the trio of climbers reached the top floor, they could hear the sounds of gunfire nearby. Spike, the last one, called, "We're in!" as he leaped through the window.
One of the two top shooters aimed through a grate in the floor, firing regularly to keep the men below pinned down. Below, Ed and Greg returned fire to keep the shooter's focus on them and away from their teammates.
"Team One!" Ed yelled as he fired, "He's shooting through the roof! Your four!"
"But that's not what you're really worried about, is it?" the psychologist remarked shrewdly. "You're worried about my reputation."
Holleran advanced into the room, not denying the assertion for a second. "There's gotta be a good reason to-"
"I know," came the instant agreement. "There's gotta be a good reason to break up a team."