PROLOGUE
Cucuta, Colombia. April 27th
Footsteps pounded the hard, dusty ground of the rundown streets of Colombia – Cucuta, Norte de Santader to be exact. Dust clouds kicked up with every sharp twist and turn taken, wooden window shutters slammed shut as they were passed. The two runners, one male and one female gestured wordlessly to each other about a building they were approaching, though whether the lack of words was out of skill or due to fatigue was unclear. Taking a sharp right, directly into the path of the old, abandoned building, they ducked inside and headed up the stairs, not stopping until they were safely barricaded inside what looked like an old bedroom.
Heavy breathing filled the dense air as both bodies attempted to regain their lost breath. Peering outside though a broken slat in the window, they watched as 4 figures dressed all in black ran by, casting shadows in the dim street lights. They shouted to each other in rushed Spanish before heading off in different directions.
"How in Merlin did we end up in this situation?" The male asked, causing the female to huff, "Don't huff at me, I wouldn't be here risking my life if I hadn't have met you."
"Yes well, i'm sorry that you had the unfortunate luck to spill my coffee all over me and my new clothes. How hard it must be for you, to not take any of the blame in this." The blonde spat back, glaring at the brunette before turning back to peer outside.
Daphne Greengrass had not envisioned herself holed up in a run down building when she took the job 3 weeks ago. She had been promised by Dempster Wiggleswade that the job was perfectly safe, just 'a few unexplained disappearances to check on, nothing dangerous' – just a regular law enforcement piece for the Prophet. Daphne couldn't wait to get back home to strangle the largely obese man, perhaps even wax his moustache off the muggle way whilst she was there. She had taken a job at the Daily Prophet as a fact checker, nothing special, nothing exciting, just a simple way to make a living after her parents up and left London to places unknown and Astoria moved in with the Malfoy's. A dream to maybe, eventually become a journalist, Daphne had jumped at the chance to prove herself with the job but here she was, knee seep in a scandal that could prove to be biggest story the Prophet had handled since the defeat of Voldemort and all she wanted was to go home, curl up in bed with Magiflix and pretend that none of it had ever happened.
"You bumped into me, if my memory serves me correct."
Daphne rolled her eyes at the southern american twang that was grating on her last nerve. Tristan Harper was the current bane of her existence, the thorn in her side and her saviour, although she would never admit that to him. A Hit Wizard on a mission for the Magical Congress of the United States of America (MACUSA), he was in Colombia to detain a gang of wizards who had become embroiled in muggle drug smuggling – they had been seen to be smuggling drugs through magical means to evade detection, for a cut of the money – a clear breach of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy - and it was Tristan's job to bring them back to America.
Their paths had crossed when Tristan had spilled Daphne's coffee all over her whilst he was in the middle of a recon mission, which according to him, had been going well until Daphne had appeared and 'bumped' into him, ruining the said mission and allowing the subject he had been following to leave his sight. He stormed off, leaving Daphne in a heap on the floor before following her back to her hotel, where he proceeded to insult her and then almost threaten her when he a got a little paranoid. She didn't see him again until 2 weeks later.
She had been happily getting on with her research, smugly pleased with herself as she found more and more information on the disappearances of the 2 wizards she had been assigned to look into, Delphin Monbast and Randolph Morgan, both of whom had mysteriously vanished after last being seen leaving the shadiest part of Cucuta, heading down the highway towards Bogota. It seemed to Daphne that Monbast and Morgan were involved in whatever seemed to be going down on the streets after dark, between the overly sinister muggles who met on dimly lit, quiet corners and it didn't take long, after a generous tip off to speak to the barista at the local café to learn that it was all about drugs, something she wasn't quite familiar with.
When Daphne had been cornered by a gang clad in all black, whom she couldn't help but wonder whether they were extremely hot in the daily baking South American sun, and threatened with something metal that she recognised to be a gun, from the numerous muggle news reports in London, she realised that the job she had taken was more than she had bargained for. They had been shouting to her in aggressive Spanish before the apparent leader, tattooed and surly, had began talking to her in English and Daphne hadn't been sure whether she preferred being shouted at in Spanish – at least she didn't have to understand what they were planning on doing to her for asking too many questions. When the gun was raised to her chest, her heart pounding in her ears, life disappointingly not flashing before her eyes, which made her believe she hadn't even lived a life good enough to warrant even a small montage of her achievements, Tristan emerged, wand out and spells and colours flashing in all directions. Stunning at least 2 of the men, Tristan grabbed Daphne and they ran, turning at ever corner to avoid rogue bullets and poorly aimed spells.
And that was how they had ended up in the rundown building, the sun down and the shouts of Spanish curse words still ringing in the air.
"We best stay here for the night while they're still looking for us." Tristan's voice, authoritative and strong, invaded Daphne's thoughts and she nodded, glancing briefly in his direction.
"Okay, that's fine."
Daphne peered out from the broken slat one more time before turning to look around the room she was now stuck in. Sighing when she saw no means of comfort, she positioned herself in the corner of the room and brought out the Wandpad form her battered backpack, along with her notebook, filled with smudged bullet points and crossed out sentences. Her research on the disappearances were messy and uncoordinated but she understood it – for the most part and what it told her was that the two men who had vanished were part of a long list of other wizards who had disappeared in the same way.
Daphne now had realised that the one thing connecting everything – the shady behaviour, the disappearances, the gang chasing her down – was the drug smuggling ring Tristan had filled her in on whilst they were on the run and it was clear she was only scratching the surface. Tristan knew more, the American Ministry of Magic even more than he did. Dempster was in for a treat the moment Daphne landed on English soil again.
"So how did a girl like you end up here in Colombia?" Tristan broke the eerie silence that had fallen over the room and Daphne looked up from her parchment. "You don't look the type to be getting your hands dirty, no offence."
Daphne rolled her eyes, "No offence taken," Her sarcasm was hard to miss. "I was promised the job was a safe one, just checking up on a few leads, to find out where Monbast and Morgan had fled to, then come back home and write it all up." She let out a sigh. "Obviously that's not what happened and here we are."
"Yeah, here we are." Replied Tristan, his voice less than enthusiastic, which irked Daphne to no end.
"Listen here Texas," Daphne started, turning her full attention onto the American. "Stop with the attitude okay? I don't want to be here as much as you but for now, we're stuck here and until I get back home and my life is no longer at risk from scary psychos dressed in far too much black and wielding guns, we have to tolerate each other."
"So you're merely using me as protection?" Tristan scoffed but didn't dispute the fact. "And for the record, I am not from Texas, I'm from Louisiana, New Orleans if we're truly being pedantic. I am not a Texan."
"Merlin, you're getting really defensive Texas." Daphne smirked as she watched his face redden with anger, "And yes, you're my protection until I can leave so the sooner you apprehend whoever you're here to apprehend, the sooner we can never see each other again."
Daphne returned to her notes, shuffling her parchment. "Monbast and Morgan disappeared because they were involved in the drug smuggling, right? Which means realistically, with those guys parading guns around like it's the norm, they're most likely dead. Which means the guys in black were the ones who did it, or were at least involved in the whole drugs thing." Daphne paused, scanning her untidy scrawl, "But for wizards to be involved in drug smuggling, there must be a couple of wizards higher up the food chain, which must be why you're here – to catch them."
"Yes, that's pretty much the reason i'm here – funnily enough, I don't usually take vacations in South American drug hotspots." Tristan replied, sarcasm clear in his voice, as he took a seat on a small, unstable wooden stool, "I've been tracking them for 4 weeks – I found out where their headquarters are, how many members are involved and who the main players were. I was keeping an eye out on some of them when we had the coffee incident and that's when I lost them. I've been two steps behind ever since."
"I swear, if you blame me one more time for the spilled coffee, I will scream." Daphne snapped, almost baring her teeth at the American. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. What matters now is that we find them again and get this whole situation sorted."
"We?" Asked Tristan, incredulously. "Do you seriously believe that i'm going to let you help me? You're not trained, you're just a girl pretending to be a journalist for a ridiculous pater that has lost all its credibility." He stood up, shaking his furiously. "Look, I appreciate your enthusiasm, I really do but you're going to stay here whilst I go and catch them."
"Do not treat me like i'm a child" I am a part of this now, whether you like it or not so you better get on with it." Daphne folded her arms across her chest and smirked at Tristan, who was looking unimpressed at the reality of their situation. "So where do we start?"