Chapter One: Rotating Team Leaders
Author note: This story is the thirty-sixth in the Magical Flashpoint series. It follows "Researching the Solution".
Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own Flashpoint, Harry Potter, Narnia, or Merlin.
Jules Callaghan lay face down, her eyes closed and her form almost deathly still. Next to her, Lewis Young was just as still; he'd collapsed close enough to Jules that his shoulder and arm were brushing her back. Both were breathing, but it was so weak and shallow that a casual observer would have been forgiven for thinking they were dead.
On the opposite side of the room, Greg Parker and Sam Braddock were also sprawled on the ground, Sam on top of his Sergeant. The barest hint of red light traced around the fallen Sergeant, but otherwise, the two men were in much the same condition as Jules and Lou.
Outside the building, in the Command Truck, Spike Scarlatti lay in a heap, half on his toppled chair and half on the floor. His head hung at an awkward angle, guaranteeing a crick in his neck when he woke up. If he woke up.
Next to a small pile of weapons, Kevin Wordsworth glared at the man in front of him, his hands slowly balling up into fists as he stared at the other. His eyes were set, his shoulders rigid, and there was a coiled tension in his frame that spoke to his desire to unleash his inner fury on his opponent.
The other man's expression betrayed not so much as hint of unease at the death glare the constable was giving him. Light blue eyes were cold, calculating, and the man's hair was so light colored that it was a tossup as to whether he was blond or white haired. "My offer is quite simple, Auror Wordsworth," the man purred.
Wordy tensed even further, but did not reply.
Inspecting his nails, the blond continued, "I can cure your Parkinson's Disease." Ignoring the sharp inhale from the brunet, the man added, almost as an afterthought, "If, of course, you agree to work for me."
"Work for you?" Wordy echoed dully.
Sharp eyes fixed on Wordy's face and held his gaze. Incredibly, the man smiled, a tight, vicious little smile. "Yes, Auror Wordsworth. You would be my inside man on Team One, my ace-in-the-hole." A casual mocking shrug. "Or you can remain as you are: a man whose days on his team are numbered." The vicious smile grew. "A man doomed to die with his mind in tatters and drooling like an infant.
"So what shall it be, Auror Wordsworth? Life? Or death?"
1 hour earlier
"How's your arm doing?" the Sergeant asked his friend as he leaned back in his briefing room chair, the pen in his free hand tapping the armrest as he spoke with his team leader over the phone.
"Better, but the docs want to run a few more tests," Ed Lane reported. "Sophie told me to shut up and let them run their tests, so it's gonna be a couple more days before I can come back."
Greg allowed a soft chuckle at Ed's fond, exasperated tone. "I guess we'll have a couple quiet days then," he teased his team leader. "How's Isabel?"
A new father's wonder was clear in Ed's voice. "Growing every day," he replied. "And she came through the C-section like a champ."
Parker let his smile grow, focusing on Ed's pleasure and pride in his new daughter rather than the decision that still lay ahead of his team leader. "Treasure every day you get with her," Greg counseled. "And Healers or no Healers, you still took seven bullets, Eddie. Don't push yourself too hard trying to get back; we can manage until you're back on your feet and cleared."
Silence filled the phone line and Greg heard Ed's automatic control of his reflexive reaction. "I hear you, Boss," Ed finally replied. "I already told Sophie, though, if I do have to leave SRU, it's not now. Gonna be on a higher note than me getting shot."
"She agreed?" Greg couldn't help questioning.
It was Ed's turn to chuckle, though his was sad and a trifle regretful. "Yeah, Greg, she did. Took me awhile, but she agreed with my argument that me leaving right after the evals went so bad wouldn't be good for the team."
"Okay," Greg acknowledged. "We'll figure the rest out when you come back, Ed." He glanced up at the clock and winced. "I got to go, Eddie."
"Copy that, Boss," Ed rejoined. "Talk to you later."
"Later," Greg agreed, hanging up. He looked down at his binder and scrawled a quick note that Team One would not have to vote on a new team leader, not today at any rate.
The Sergeant debated telling his team about his nipotes' situation, but decided it could wait until Ed was back. Fortunately, Commander Holleran had successfully lobbied Madame Locksley to delay Team One's magic-side evals until Ed was back on duty. In the meantime, Team One wasn't cleared for magic-side duty, but Greg actually considered that a plus; it gave his team some breathing room after the evals, Ed's shooting, and everything else that had hammered at them over the past few months.
Below his note on Ed's status, Parker wrote down several names, in order of their seniority. Since Ed was only temporarily off-duty, the Sergeant was free to decide who the team's acting Team Leader would be. He expected that his plan would meet with some resistance, but his solution wasn't intended to be long-term; Team One would rise to the challenge as they always did. As the Sergeant plotted how to present his solution to his teammates, they straggled in, one at a time, looking much better than they had the week before.
Once his teammates were assembled, Greg leaned back in his chair, looking up at them with a quiet smile. Spike and Lou were sitting next to each other, two peas in a pod with identical gleams of mischief; Parker made a note to keep an eye on them and clear of any pranks they might pull. Opposite the duo, Wordy had his normal cheerful look; only his Sergeant could see the underlying tension of his new medical diagnosis and cautious optimism towards his treatment plan. Past the three, Sam and Jules were sitting across from each other, but Greg couldn't help but suspect that their position was carefully calculated to deflect any accusations that their relationship was crossing the line again.
Parker felt his gryphon instincts stir, the inner gryphon taking offense at the idea that members of his 'flock' were defying him; with a week of near constant practice under his belt, Greg mentally swatted the gryphon back down and told it to behave. His expression never even twitched. "News from Eddie," he announced, letting his smile grow at their eager expressions. "Nerves in his left arm are completely healed, but the docs are running a few more tests, so Ed will be back next week."
"How's Isabel?" Jules asked.
"Ed said she came through the C-section like a champ and that she's growing every day," Greg faithfully relayed.
Wordy chuckled. "Seems like they always do," he remarked, a fond, reminiscing look in his eyes. "It's the parents that do all the worrying and pacing, but then you blink and your kids are that much bigger."
Sam cleared his throat. "So who's team leader?"
Greg nodded soberly. "Thank you, Mr. Braddock, for getting us back on track. Ed tells me that he's planning on coming back to the SRU for now, so instead of voting for a new team leader, we're going to have a rotation of team leaders, based on seniority."
Wordy flinched, but his Sergeant ignored it.
"That means," Greg went on cheerfully, "This shift, Mr. Wordsworth will act as team leader." He nodded towards Jules. "Jules, you'll be up next; after you will be Lou, then Spike, and finally Sam. We'll keep rotating team leaders until Ed's back on the job."
Spike hesitantly raised a hand. "Boss, I'm usually in the truck," he pointed out.
Greg was undeterred. "On days that you have team leader status, Lewis will be in the truck."
Lou grinned, whacking Spike's shoulder. "Nice try," he teased at once.
Surveying his less-than-enthusiastic team, Parker relented. "Look, it's only until Ed comes back and if we need to reconfigure, we will." His eyes sharpened, pinning his team. "However, we cross-train for a reason. In the field, if someone goes down, we need to be able to compensate and cover; we saw that last week when Eddie went down." He paused, letting them take his statement in. "I know you can handle this, all of you."
"What about magic-side?" Lou questioned.
Greg shook his head. "Right now, we're not cleared for duty and we still have to make a decision on whether we keep working magic-side or not," he reminded the less-lethal specialist. "Unless there's some kind of emergency, we shouldn't get any magic-side calls while Ed is out." The Sergeant waited for more questions; when there were none, he tapped the table and finished, "Workout room unless we get a call out."
As his team filed out, Greg drew in a breath, held it, and let it out slowly. One week without his team leader. It was going to be a very long week. As he was about to stand and follow his teammates to the workout room, a soft voice asked, "Sarge?"
Parker looked over and up at Wordy; the younger man was fidgeting and looked both unhappy and miserable. "Yes?" Greg pressed gently.
"Maybe you should leave me out of the rotation," Wordy suggested; unable to hold his boss's gaze, he looked down.
Greg stood up, moving to stand right in front of Wordy and waiting until his constable looked up again. "Wordy, you can handle this," Greg informed him without an ounce of doubt in his voice. "I wouldn't have decided on a rotation if I wasn't completely, one-hundred percent sure that each and every one of you could handle being team leader."
"But…"
Greg shook his head firmly. "Wordy, do you trust me?"
A breath, then Wordy's shoulders straightened. "Always, Sarge."
"Then trust me on this."
Gray met brown for several seconds. A half-smile quirked Wordy's jaw. "Copy that, Sarge."
Sam did his best not to seethe as he settled into his workout. After Ed had gone down, he'd stepped into the team leader job without skipping a beat and he knew his leadership had been a large factor in their successful takedown of Ed's shooter. But here he was, shuffled to the back of the line simply because he was the rookie.
"Sarge is right, you know," Jules remarked, making her boyfriend jump.
"How's that?" Sam questioned, dividing his focus between his workout and Jules; she hopped on the treadmill next to his and brought it up to speed without replying.
For several minutes, they ran side by side, then Jules pushed her thought. "Ed's a great team leader, but if he ever goes down in the field, one of us will have to take over, Sam. And you might not be in a position to take over for him."
Sam bit back his first few replies and ran her point through his head a few times. "So, it's like when we have to practice negotiating, even though you and Sarge are the official negotiators?"
"Yep," Jules confirmed brightly. "Sarge is just doing what's best for the team; we're on probation, Sam. The better we do, the less reason Toth has to break us up."
Sam grinned involuntarily, before the real reason for his sulk came back. "But why'd he do it by seniority instead of…"
"Instead of you?" Jules interrupted, tapping her treadmill's controls to go faster. "Sam, how about you look at it this way: you did get to go first and now it's Wordy's turn."
Sam blinked, then his smile reappeared and he tapped his own controls. "Race you to the finish," he teased.
"You're on," Jules agreed, pushing her treadmill even faster.
The alarm blared out, halting every workout in its tracks. "Team One, hot call," Winnie yelled.
Wordy hustled off the bike he'd been using and out to the dispatcher's desk, Sarge on his heels. "Winnie, what've we got?" he demanded, doing his best to channel his best friend.
As Sarge came to a halt next to his acting team leader, Winnie reeled off the details. "We've got a call from one of the old factories on the city outskirts; caller hung up before 911 could get details, but it sounds like we've got a hostage situation in progress. Multiple hostages, caller might've been a hostage or a subject who got cold feet."
"Got an address?" Wordy pressed.
"Coming your way," Winnie replied as Wordy's phone beeped with a new message.
Wordy paused, then turned towards his teammates and yelled, "Gear up and let's roll."
His glance over at his boss was anxious and uncertain, but Parker clapped him on the shoulder as he walked past, his approval obvious.
With Ed off-duty, there was no reason for Team One to take all four of their usual trucks. Instead, Wordy and Jules slid into the first truck, Sam drove the second truck with Lou riding shotgun, and Greg handled the Command Truck while Spike started pulling up what data he could on their destination.
"Got a floor plan, from before the factory shut down," Spike called. "I'm sending it to all your phones, but there's no guarantee that it's exact."
"Something is better than nothing," Wordy opined. "Winnie, can 911 get any more details from that call?"
"They're working on it, but so far, just what I already gave you," Winnie replied apologetically. "I can tell you the factory shut down six years ago; company went bankrupt."
"That old means unlikely to be disgruntled employees," Greg observed. "Unless we're talking about an obsession, the company employees have all moved on by now."
"Winnie, is this factory on any one's radar?" Jules asked. "Drug Squad or Guns 'n' Gangs?"
"Nothing," Winnie informed the team. "It's in a bad spot, location-wise. Not far enough out to be attractive for the types that like to keep their business out of the city, but not close enough in to be useful to the gangs or drug dealers. This is the first time this address has popped up on any one's radar since the factory shut down."
"Okay, once we get there, spread out and see if we can nail down where the subjects and hostages are," Wordy decided. "Spike, keep pulling info on this place, let's see if we can figure out why this factory."
"Copy that," Spike agreed.
Wordy frowned as his team burst into the medium-sized factory. One definite disadvantage to this factory was that it had only two entrances. Despite the size of the building, the team hadn't been able to find any other working entrances, so the subjects, if they were watching the doors, had the advantage.
He'd placed himself in the larger team, sweeping the building with Sarge and Sam in tow. Jules and Lou had taken the factory's back entrance and the pair had already swept the four back areas and the one small upstairs room on the building's blueprints. Wordy paused, flicking his mirror out to check the next room. A quick look and he shook his head.
Instead of charging in, he asked, "Lou, Jules, anything?"
"Nothing so far," Lou reported. "Sarge, you hearing anything?"
Wordy flicked a look sideways as Sarge's face tightened in concentration. After a moment, he shook his head. "Silencing spells?" Wordy breathed, wary of the comm.
"Possible," Sarge acknowledged, glancing towards the next room.
Wordy's jaw tightened. "Jules, Lou, get in position; this is the last room."
"Copy," Jules agreed. It took a few more seconds, then, "In position, Wordy."
"On my count," Wordy ordered, steadying his breathing and doing a last minute check of his team. "Three…two…one, go!"
The SRU officers burst into the next room, weapons raised and ready. "SRU! Hands in the air!" Sam yelled.
"Weapons on the ground! Do it now!" Wordy bellowed right next to him.
On the opposite side, Jules and Lou slammed through their own door. "Police Strategic Response Unit!" Jules roared.
"Hands in the air! Weapons on the ground!" Lou ordered.
There was no one in the room; the five officers came to a stop, glancing at each other as they wondered what was going on. After a moment, Wordy paced away from his teammates. "Spike, are we at the right address?"
"Yep," Spike replied at once. "Why?"
"There's no one here," Wordy reported, glancing around at the room they were in.
A sound came from the center of the room; Team One wheeled around, bringing their weapons up. For a second, nothing happened, then light ripped outwards, passing harmlessly through the officers.
"What was that?" Wordy blurted, unnerved. When none of his teammates answered, he looked at them; they were staring at where the light had come from, blank expressions on their faces. "Guys? Guys, snap out of it!" Turning, he yelled, "Spike! Get in here!"
No response.
"Guys, snap out of it!" Wordy roared as loud as he could, even as internally he cringed at hurting Sarge's sensitive hearing.
Then the wave of light reappeared, collapsing back in on itself. As it passed through the SRU cops, they fell, one right after the other, until only Wordy was left on his feet.