The Second War Spreads
He saw the ambers glow bright orange as he took a drag from his Marlboro cigarette. How long had he been waiting he wondered? He rolled over to the night stand and looked at the bright red digital numbers, 9:27, with the little indicator light meaning it was in the PM. The auror rolled back onto his back and groaned. Only an hour and 40 minutes, geez, time goes so slow when you wait.
The cell phone rang, FINALLY!
He reached out and grabbed the Startac and flipped the phone open. "Kelley" he said with all the authority he could muster. A familiar female voice answered back, "Mike, we found him," she continued, "He is going to the movies." "Which theatre?" he replied with a quizative voice, "AMC 15 over at the new mall." "Tag his ass," "I'll be there in 10 mikes, I'm driving over!" He sprang from the bed, and started making a mental checklist as he starting collecting his things.
"Badges, check", he mumbled to himself.
"Knife, pistol, radio, keys, phone, check, check, check and check."
"Oh, and a spare wand," "Cannot forget that one."
Finally, after he was sure he had everything, he ran out the door, into the summer air.
It was beautiful June night. Not too hot, and none of the coolness of some spring nights. He ran down the open walkway, down the stairs, to his red rental car. It was a Friday night, he remembered. Denver's suburbs, where like most other cities, there where cars going everywhere. Lucky them he thought, they don't have to work. But, he remember, he loved his job, he was made for this job. The odd, long hours, the danger, the thrill of the chase, it was like an intoxicant, and tonight he was going to get another fix.
His mind was a blur, he went through the motions of driving, not really paying attention until he happened up the theatre. Stop at the red light, stupid, he thought to himself. He looked left, when a car passed, he took a quick right, into the theatre parking lot.
He exhaled, that felt good.
"Into the fire again, Mike," he said to himself, and got out of the car, and started walking to the theatre entrance. Mike caught himself, auror mode now. He started scanning everywhere. He saw the team's van, but no team. Ugh
He raised his arm to talk into the cuff mic. "This is Mike, I'm at the theatre." "Now, where the hell are you people, and where is the tag?"
"This is Marcel." "The tag is in the ticket line second from the left; Linda is two people behind him."
"Want to take him now?" Marcel said, his voice was getting on edge, ready for action.
"Negative," Mike replied, "He could have friends watching."
"And he could start an incident, "another voice that Mike recognized as Tom Mallory's, another long time team member.
"We will have to take him in the theatre," remarked, Mike.
"Linda, get 4 tickets to whatever movie he is going to see, acknowledge with two beeps." Mike said softly. Mike heard the two beeps, in his earpiece. He loved his team; they operated like a well oiled machine.
Mike watched Linda purchase the tickets. Our tag is going to have a big surprise he hoped. There were a lot of civilians around; he hoped this snatch and grab did not go south. Deep down, it did not matter, they needed him, more like, they needed the information he had. It was only a few hours, before, before innocent blood was spilled, Mike signed.
Turning away for a second, Mike spotted Mia over in a corner with some sort of tacky fake palm tree, and walked over.
Mia's brown eyes and black hair, matched perfectly with her olive skin. She was wearing tan short shorts and a loose pink top. No doubt the top was to hide the gear she had underneath, Mike thought, but it did not hide her well toned and sexy body. Sexy, Mike smiled, if he wasn't engaged, he would have loved to take that body for a spin. He mentally slapped himself. Get your mind out of the gutter and back to your job fool. You are an Associate Director and team leader for God's sake.
The other members of the team walked over.
Tom Mallory, he graduated the same year Mike did from North American Magic Academy. His was an old wizarding family, by American standards, stretching back over 180 years. Tom would have to be dragged out of the field; he hated office work, and refused two promotions already. Mike was surprised he had not gone into the military, like is father and sister, but Tom said, he wanted more action. He got his wish.
Marcel LaShrit, was another NAMA alumnus, although, he was two years behind Mike. Marcel was a first rate auror, he could recon any place or situation and come up with a plan to attack it. He was wearing his usual faded black jeans, black combat boots and black t-shirt. Most of his family fled France in the 1820s. They were accused of using witchcraft and consorting with the Devil. The first was true, the second was not.
Linda Middleton was his second-in-command; she was Mike's fiancée's best friend. Amy and Linda had both gone to Salem Witch Institute in Massachusetts. Linda's family had to escape from Tanzania when she was only two years old. The national government was not too fond of her family and its magical heritage and power.
Jim Mueller was the old man and loving grandfather of the group. He was only 33, but we all thought he was so worldly and wise. Especially, since rest of the team had not ever reached 30. Jim had that Middle America work ethic and sensibility. This attitude help to balance most of the team's East Coast mind set.
Chris was straight out of the hills, Beverly Hills that is. Neither of her parents were magical, they totally freaked when they found out they had a real, honest to god witch. She was Alicia Silverstone from Clueless, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer wrapped up in one. More then once had an opponent underestimated her fighting ability because of the way she dressed. Tonight was not exception; the white miniskirt and black halter top were barely there.
Mia Hernandez was the firecracker of the group. Never mess with a Dominican chick from Brooklyn. She knew Voodoo curses that would make you have a very bad day. She was only a year behind Mike at NAMA.
This was the team. These people, too young for their own good, were the First Special Investigations Group, the best damn aurors in the Federal Bureau of Magical Enforcement. They lived, breathed and hunted down criminal witches and wizards like the vermin they were. They gave no quarter and expected none in return.
He saw the ambers glow bright orange as he took a drag from his Marlboro cigarette. How long had he been waiting he wondered? He rolled over to the night stand and looked at the bright red digital numbers, 9:27, with the little indicator light meaning it was in the PM. The auror rolled back onto his back and groaned. Only an hour and 40 minutes, geez, time goes so slow when you wait.
The cell phone rang, FINALLY!
He reached out and grabbed the Startac and flipped the phone open. "Kelley" he said with all the authority he could muster. A familiar female voice answered back, "Mike, we found him," she continued, "He is going to the movies." "Which theatre?" he replied with a quizative voice, "AMC 15 over at the new mall." "Tag his ass," "I'll be there in 10 mikes, I'm driving over!" He sprang from the bed, and started making a mental checklist as he starting collecting his things.
"Badges, check", he mumbled to himself.
"Knife, pistol, radio, keys, phone, check, check, check and check."
"Oh, and a spare wand," "Cannot forget that one."
Finally, after he was sure he had everything, he ran out the door, into the summer air.
It was beautiful June night. Not too hot, and none of the coolness of some spring nights. He ran down the open walkway, down the stairs, to his red rental car. It was a Friday night, he remembered. Denver's suburbs, where like most other cities, there where cars going everywhere. Lucky them he thought, they don't have to work. But, he remember, he loved his job, he was made for this job. The odd, long hours, the danger, the thrill of the chase, it was like an intoxicant, and tonight he was going to get another fix.
His mind was a blur, he went through the motions of driving, not really paying attention until he happened up the theatre. Stop at the red light, stupid, he thought to himself. He looked left, when a car passed, he took a quick right, into the theatre parking lot.
He exhaled, that felt good.
"Into the fire again, Mike," he said to himself, and got out of the car, and started walking to the theatre entrance. Mike caught himself, auror mode now. He started scanning everywhere. He saw the team's van, but no team. Ugh
He raised his arm to talk into the cuff mic. "This is Mike, I'm at the theatre." "Now, where the hell are you people, and where is the tag?"
"This is Marcel." "The tag is in the ticket line second from the left; Linda is two people behind him."
"Want to take him now?" Marcel said, his voice was getting on edge, ready for action.
"Negative," Mike replied, "He could have friends watching."
"And he could start an incident, "another voice that Mike recognized as Tom Mallory's, another long time team member.
"We will have to take him in the theatre," remarked, Mike.
"Linda, get 4 tickets to whatever movie he is going to see, acknowledge with two beeps." Mike said softly. Mike heard the two beeps, in his earpiece. He loved his team; they operated like a well oiled machine.
Mike watched Linda purchase the tickets. Our tag is going to have a big surprise he hoped. There were a lot of civilians around; he hoped this snatch and grab did not go south. Deep down, it did not matter, they needed him, more like, they needed the information he had. It was only a few hours, before, before innocent blood was spilled, Mike signed.
Turning away for a second, Mike spotted Mia over in a corner with some sort of tacky fake palm tree, and walked over.
Mia's brown eyes and black hair, matched perfectly with her olive skin. She was wearing tan short shorts and a loose pink top. No doubt the top was to hide the gear she had underneath, Mike thought, but it did not hide her well toned and sexy body. Sexy, Mike smiled, if he wasn't engaged, he would have loved to take that body for a spin. He mentally slapped himself. Get your mind out of the gutter and back to your job fool. You are an Associate Director and team leader for God's sake.
The other members of the team walked over.
Tom Mallory, he graduated the same year Mike did from North American Magic Academy. His was an old wizarding family, by American standards, stretching back over 180 years. Tom would have to be dragged out of the field; he hated office work, and refused two promotions already. Mike was surprised he had not gone into the military, like is father and sister, but Tom said, he wanted more action. He got his wish.
Marcel LaShrit, was another NAMA alumnus, although, he was two years behind Mike. Marcel was a first rate auror, he could recon any place or situation and come up with a plan to attack it. He was wearing his usual faded black jeans, black combat boots and black t-shirt. Most of his family fled France in the 1820s. They were accused of using witchcraft and consorting with the Devil. The first was true, the second was not.
Linda Middleton was his second-in-command; she was Mike's fiancée's best friend. Amy and Linda had both gone to Salem Witch Institute in Massachusetts. Linda's family had to escape from Tanzania when she was only two years old. The national government was not too fond of her family and its magical heritage and power.
Jim Mueller was the old man and loving grandfather of the group. He was only 33, but we all thought he was so worldly and wise. Especially, since rest of the team had not ever reached 30. Jim had that Middle America work ethic and sensibility. This attitude help to balance most of the team's East Coast mind set.
Chris was straight out of the hills, Beverly Hills that is. Neither of her parents were magical, they totally freaked when they found out they had a real, honest to god witch. She was Alicia Silverstone from Clueless, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer wrapped up in one. More then once had an opponent underestimated her fighting ability because of the way she dressed. Tonight was not exception; the white miniskirt and black halter top were barely there.
Mia Hernandez was the firecracker of the group. Never mess with a Dominican chick from Brooklyn. She knew Voodoo curses that would make you have a very bad day. She was only a year behind Mike at NAMA.
This was the team. These people, too young for their own good, were the First Special Investigations Group, the best damn aurors in the Federal Bureau of Magical Enforcement. They lived, breathed and hunted down criminal witches and wizards like the vermin they were. They gave no quarter and expected none in return.