Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

For those few who have the talent and potential, I only have one thing to say:

Carpe Diem

-Harry POV-

I was 5 years old when I first considered the fact that my family didn't want or like me. It might have been the considerably less amount of presents I got compared to my brother. It might have been the love and attention that I never received. It might have even been the subtle yet frequently annoyed looks they sent my way. I don't really remember when I started to notice or what exactly tipped me off, but it was obvious those feelings were there.

But being 5 years old at the time, my mind childishly held on to the hope that I was wrong. My parents loved us equally. Why wouldn't they? There was no reason for them not to. I mean, we were almost identical twins! The only difference was our eyes, and I have to say that my brother's hazel eyes had nothing on my emerald ones. So in the end, I provided an excuse for everything that happened. My brother got more presents than me because he had been a better son, not because they didn't care about me. I never got any love and attention because I was too quiet and unnoticeable, not because they purposefully ignored me. The annoyed looks I got were just figments of my imagination.

And on the days that forced me to think such thoughts, I would lay on my bed unable to sleep, thinking of ways to make myself better; how could I change myself to make them love me? After all, it was my fault for not being good enough, right? I was the one who had to change. So on the next day, I would work extra hard to be the best son my parents could ever want. I would make help the house elves make breakfast, and watch my family greedily devour my food without a shred of gratitude. I would try to join my family in a game of Quidditch, a game that I never particularly enjoyed, only to be sent away for ruining my brother's fun. I tried these things and more. And each time my family failed to acknowledge my effort, I just gritted my teeth and carried on, holding on to the belief that my hard work would one day bear fruit.

But I guess there was one person who never ignored me, and that was my brother. Even if all he ever did was tell me about all the things I never got to do, sometimes even lording it over me, it was still better than nothing.

It wasn't until I was 8 years old that I understood for a fact that my family didn't want me. 3 years of denial came crashing down on my 8th birthday.

It was an accident. Well, that was what I wanted to say. But in reality, what I did that day, I did on purpose.

I woke up that day thinking that it was the day all my work would pay off, that everything would be different from before. My parents would wish me a happy birthday and mean it, and my godparents would remember that they had 2 godchildren instead of 1. I didn't really care about what everyone else thought or did. They were unimportant. They were strangers, all here to catch a glimpse of the famous Boy-who-lived, Benjamin Sirius Potter. I bet none of them even knew that he had a twin.

Back then, I didn't know one important fact about human nature: that people just aren't capable of changing completely. At least, not in the way I wanted them to. People don't just wake up one morning and change the way they've been living for years. That's why my family didn't wake up that morning loving me as much as my brother. It's a fact that I've accepted now.

My brother was the first one downstairs, yelling his head off in an attempt to wake everyone else up. By the time I made my way down as well, everyone else was already settled in the dining room and enjoying a house elf prepared breakfast. A quick glance at the food showed me that, once again, breakfast consisted of all of Ben's favorite food and none of mine. This happened so frequently that I didn't even remember what my favorite food was anymore.

I quietly took my place at the end of the table, helping myself to some food. The dining table was long and sturdy, one befitting the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. My father always sat at the head of the table, and everyone else sat wherever they wanted. Ben usually sat at his right hand side, even though that was supposed to be my spot as Heir. But we never followed those traditions, not even at official dinners. I waited for someone to wish me a happy birthday, just like I heard them do for Ben not even 5 minutes before. But, as usual, no one bothered to even greet me.

Breakfast went by slowly. Ben sat between my parents, shoveling bacon and eggs into his mouth. In between bites, he would argue with dad and Uncle Siri, who was sitting across from him, over who the best Chaser on Puddlmere United was. Uncle Siri was supposed to be my Godfather since I'm older, but sometimes I get the feeling that he would rather be Ben's godfather instead. I couldn't remember the last time he actually spent any time with just me. Mum sat across from Uncle Remy, Ben's Godfather, and took turns between wiping my brother's mouth and debating with the werewolf over something about Charms.

It seemed like the picture perfect family, and I wanted so much to be a part of it. But, I didn't complain. They still saved a place for me at the table. That meant they still cared about me, right?

I was so naïve back then. I never noticed that it was the house elves who always set the table. They, being the diligent workers they were, would never have forgotten to save me a seat.

Breakfast ended with my dad announcing what he had planned for the day: a visit to the dragon reserve in Romania, a surprise present in Diagon Alley, and a ginormous party worthy of the great Boy-who-lived.

I thought I was going to have to spend the whole day feeling like a tagalong. Not that dragons or Diagon Alley weren't interesting or anything. I just knew that with all the paparazzi around, I would be shoved off to the side, not being able to see or buy anything cool.

I didn't have to worry. Why? Because they didn't take me. Whether they forgot to take me or simply didn't want to take me is debatable. But what matters is the fact that I was left behind. Again.

It hurt, but I sucked it in. I still had the party to look forward to. As long as I had a good time there, this birthday would have been a success. So I trotted upstairs, deciding to spend time in my favorite part of the manor: the library.

The day went by and my family came back. The adults separated into teams to get the manor ready for the party and Ben ran towards me, gushing and raving about the great day he had. I tried to ignore it all, and when that didn't work, I tried to look at the bright side of things. He got to play with a rare and cool dragon? Well good for him. I would rather be safe and away from big man eating creatures. He got a practice wand at Diagon Alley? That's great. I'll just stick with my wandless magic and not have to worry about remembering those weird hand motions.

The party started a few hours later. Guests started to pour in from both the floo and the front door. The manor was packed in minutes. I tried to enjoy the party, but after the 10th person mistook me for my brother, I was already at my limit. I spent my time after that slinking in the shadows. With how little people seemed to notice my presence, it was quite easy.

Soon, it was time for presents. It was always presents before cake. Ben sat at the seat of honor and people lined up to give him gifts to open. It took an hour or so for the line to dwindle, and I'll admit that although the majority of the gifts were childish or easy to break, some of them were actually pretty good. I wasn't surprised that when the line ended I still hadn't received anything. After all, everyone came for the Boy-who-lived, not his twin. Why would they bother getting me a gift? No, what I was looking forward to the most was what would come next.

My parents, Uncle Siri, and Uncle Remy stepped up in front of us. It was time for them to give their presents. Last year, I got one gift and that was from Uncle Remy. It wasn't the best gift, but I was just happy to get anything. Uncle Siri had long since stopped giving me anything. My parents, once they realized they forgot to get my anything, promised to get my something good this year, so I was excited.

Uncle Remy walked up first with something in each hand, and gave me a small smile as he put my present in my hand. I gently unwrapped mine, carefully making sure I didn't rip the wrapping paper too much. Uncle Remy gave me a book on plants. Not the most useful, especially since I remembered seeing a copy in the Potter Family Library, but a gift was still a gift. I peeked over at Ben's side and noticed he received a book as well; one on the uses of pranking spells in battle. It was way more useful and looked more interesting than mine, but I didn't care. Uncle Remy was Ben's Godfather after all.

Uncle Siri stepped up and handed my brother something long and wrapped up. I knew immediately that it was a broom. When he walked passed me without even looking, I swallowed down the hurt. There was probably a good reason he didn't get me a gift. Maybe we were supposed to share the broom?

My parents came up last, each one holding a gift. Imagine my surprise when instead of giving one to us each, they handed both to my brother, who eagerly tore them open. I didn't stay to see what was inside. I left the table the moment it became clear that my parents weren't going to give me anything, just like last year.

I'm not going to lie. It hurt. To bring my hopes up with empty promises, wasn't that just cruel?

And so I found myself disappointed and upset like every other year. Was next year going to be different? Did my parents really care?

Doubts crept into my mind, and all the injustices I had faced flashed before my eyes. But I stopped myself before I could go too far.

'No,' I thought at the time, 'they love me. Next year will be better.'

I walked around the room to calm down; building up hope with every step I took. But then I saw the cake, and my hope came crashing down. It really shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. Where my name once stood beside my brother's on the cake, now stood nothing. And suddenly, all I could feel was hate. In anger and disappointment, I flipped the table with the cake over. Well, it was more like my magic flipped it over. My emotional state had already made my magic volatile. The cake just set it off, making me perform my first bout of accidental magic in a long time.

The once noisy room became silent instantly. My parents, who were half way across the room, seemed to teleport directly to my side in mere seconds. Funny how its only when I do something wrong that they notice me. They shouted and yelled, first in surprise, then in anger, and then in disappointment. Ben was by their side, bawling his eyes out at not being able to eat cake. The guests surrounded us, and glared at me for daring to make their beloved Boy-who-lived cry. And before I could even get a word out, someone beat me to the punch.

"Leave. Now." The one who spoke was my father.

The word "leave" is simple yet powerful. Although the meaning generally meant the same, the scale of the intended meaning varied.

Leave this room.

Leave this house.

Leave this area.

Leave my life.

Leave and never come back. That's what I took it as after looking at my parent's eyes. The emotions that ranged from disappointment to annoyance, from anger to borderline disgust.

I was 8 years old when I left my family and home. The only things I owned were the clothes on my back and the knowledge I acquired throughout my short life, and there was not a single person in this world that I would call a friend.

Years later, I would debate about that particular birthday, wondering if it was the best or worst day of my life.

For those soldiers who have begun to lose hope each day,

Carpe Diem

The city was cold, I determined, as I stood on the rooftop of a fairly tall office building. The sun was to my back as I surveyed the scene below me; and while it was bright, it provided no heat on this cold winter day. On the ground, people were scurrying to and fro, expertly maneuvering around obstacles that stood between them and their destinations. A street musician placed himself near a café, playing classical music that no one bothered to listen. I had to admit though, the man was quite good. This particular plaza was nearly packed full of people at this time of day, but we had determined long ago that the amount wouldn't hinder our mission.

I laid my equipment out with a steady and experienced hand, making sure that everything was in order. Each part had to be in perfect condition, because even the smallest nick on the most inconsequential piece could jeopardize everything. Assembling all the parts took less than a minute, and I was ready in no time. All I had to do now was wait, which if you asked me, was the hardest part of all. I looked through my scope and found each member of my team before locking onto my target.

The wind began to blow and I absentmindedly adjusted accordingly. My breathing and my heart rate were both slow and in synch, something that was without a doubt necessary for my job. The earpiece in my left ear buzzed to signal that the channel had been turned on.

"This is Command. Team Fox, what is your status? Over." The voice was nasally and I immediately identified it as the mission leader since it was a voice that I had heard countless times throughout the day.

For some reason, the man always seemed to rub me the wrong way. It didn't matter what it was: the way he talked, the way he walked, or even the way he just stood there. Every time I saw him, I just wanted to punch him in the face. I think the thing that bugged me the most was his attitude. Why Boss would let someone like him lead a mission was beyond me. That man couldn't lead a team out of a paper box! But orders were orders, and a good soldier always followed orders.

I sighed as I thought about the hours that led up to this moment. This supposed easy mission had so many near disasters, it wasn't even funny anymore. And contrary to what normally happened, it wasn't the field team's fault. It wasn't my team's fault because my team had performed flawlessly: or, as flawlessly as a team could perform when given flawed orders.

But I digress. Right now, there was a job to do and I knew that the rest of my team was waiting on me. It wasn't the time or place to mentally insult the man who would be issuing orders soon. I looked through my scope once again and saw that the target was unobstructed. "This is Fox 1. I have the solution. Over. "

It didn't take long for everyone else to report in.

"Fox 2. In position. Over."

"This is Fox 3. Also in position. Over."

"This is Fox 4. No solution. Changing position. Over."

"Fox 5 here. ETA 30 seconds to designated position. Over."

"Fox 6. I have the solution. Over."

Good. We were almost ready, though Fox 4's 'no solution' did worry me a little. There were times when just two out of three just wouldn't be good enough and this was one of those times. You never know what could happen during a mission, so making sure that we had all our bases covered was essential. But, Fox 4 was a professional, just like me. As a professional, I knew that the 'no solution' would be fixed soon enough.

Exactly thirty seconds later, my earpiece buzzed with noise again. Good, mission command was on top of things.

"Fox 5 and Fox 4. Status? Over."

"This is Fox 4. I have the solution. Over."

"Fox 5. In position. Over."

"Roger that. Begin phase 4 of the mission on my mark."

This was it. I measured my breaths and steadied my body. There would be no mistakes from me. There would be no mistakes from my team. Our training would make sure of it. And even if on some off chance there was a mistake, I was confident that we would still pull through.

My ears twitched in anticipation and I could hear some heavy breathing through the earpiece. I knew who it was without even thinking about it. My team was too well trained to not be able to control their body at a time like this. That left only one other person who was tapped into our channel.

But seriously, if just sitting there caused him to breathe like that, what would being on the field do to him?

I stopped my train of thought right there. To continue would cause my annoyance level to rise, and that could prove fatal in the long run. I mean, who cared if the mission leader was some prick who couldn't be bothered to jog every now and then? Who cared if the mission leader was a sycophant who got his position by kissing up to the right people? Who cared if he used his father's resources instead of his own power?

Not me.

So, I tuned out the almost pant like breathing that was resonating in my ear.

It was almost time. I tensed and relaxed my trigger finger a few times to help make things easier. The panting stopped and I heard the man draw breath to prepare for his next words.

"3…2...1...Mark!"

In six seemingly random places throughout and around the plaza, six people simultaneously moved. Their movements were precise and quick, leaving no room for errors. Three bullets coming from different directions zoomed towards the plaza, accurately lodging themselves into three separate people. The man who had been situated in the middle of these people barely registered the death of his 3 bodyguards before he felt a prick on the back of his neck and passed out. Before he could fall, he was promptly held up by two inconspicuous people and carried away while a third person walked behind them to make sure the coast was clear.

The second that all 3 bodies fell lifelessly to the ground, pandemonium ensued. No one noticed the kidnapping of a fourth victim. From an outsider's view, it was over even before it began.

That's because it was. The whole phase actually took less than minute to complete, a record if I do say so myself. My breathing resume to a more natural pace and I began to pack up my equipment. I tapped my earpiece once to confirm that it was still there and reported in. "This is Fox 1. Target neutralized. Over."

"Fox 4. Target neutralized. Over."

"This is Fox 6. Target neutralized. Over."

"This is Fox 2 with Fox 3 and Fox 5. Package secured. Moving on to phase 5. On route to drop point. ETA 10 minutes. Over."

"This is Command. Fox 2, report once the package is delivered to complete the mission. Team Fox, head over to the safe house for now. We expect you at Base 9 no later than 1900 hours. Over."

I smiled as I headed over to the safe zone to meet up with the rest of my team. My pace was slow and easygoing so that I wouldn't attract too much attention. It didn't take me long to spot the signs that pointed to our latest safe house: a discreetly marked wall here and a partially covered symbol there.

I was the first to arrive, followed by Fox 4 and Fox 6 a few minutes later. They wore clothing similar to mine, though not identical. All of us wore a different colored hat and sunglasses to cover our faces. Though it might seem corny, we used the different colors to tell us apart while on covert missions like this. Fox 4 wore a scarf that was wrapped so high up that it covered her mouth as well as her neck. The only thing showing was her nose, but that wasn't an unusual sight given the cold weather here. We were all sporting fur coats, though none of us actually needed them since we passed our extreme weather training with flying colors. In this case, to not have such heavy clothing would have made us stand out too much. Our pants were specially made to be both light and comfortable, making them easy to run in.

Upon seeing me, the two of them nodded once before taking their seats. Neither had bothered to shed their disguises, just like me. The table we were sitting at was a cliché round table. It was plain and held seven chairs for seven people, though one of the chairs hadn't been occupied in a while. Well, figuratively speaking that is. In the literal sense, none of the chairs had ever been occupied before.

We waited in silence instead of celebrating. I guess you could say it was Team Fox's motto: until the last man (or woman when you wanted to be technical) is confirmed safe and sound, there is nothing to celebrate.

About twenty minutes later, the door opened, and all of us tensed for our weapons. The stiffness in our bodies left when we saw who entered. Fox 2 walked in first with Fox 5 and Fox 3 flanking her. It made for an imposing sight, kind of like a celebrity and her bodyguards. All 3 nodded to us once before making their way to the table.

Each person walked to their designated chair and sat down gracefully. The only seat still empty was the one directly to my left. I surveyed my team and quietly lamented the fact that we were one man down, wondering if everyone else was doing the same. I shook my head once to shift my thoughts away from our missing teammate. "Fox 2, how was the delivery?" I asked a moment later.

Fox 2's answer was quick and professional. "Mission complete." At those words, it seemed like all the tension left the room.

With a sigh of relief, everyone began loosening up and shedding their unneeded clothing. There was still 2 hours left till we had to report in, so we might as well get comfortable while we waited. The safe house was to keep us safe after all, so there was no need to keep our disguises up.

I was the first to get comfortable, and spent a few minutes stretching out my arms while I waited for the rest to do the same. When they finished, they all sat quietly on their seats facing me and waited for me to start our after mission routine. "So, ladies and gents, any thoughts on today's mission?" I began the mini debriefing with the usual question.

"Well," a voice drawled out after a moment of silence. My head tilted towards the speaker to indicate that he had my attention. This was Drake Black, formally Draco Malfoy. He sat in his favorite position, the Indian Style, on his chair, something anyone else with his upbringing would balk at. Half a tattooed fox paw print with the number 5 in the middle showed prominently on his right ankle, the other half being covered by his socks. His face had an aristocratic look to it, which told many things about his parentage. His brought up his left hand and smooth his blond hair back in habit before continuing. "I don't know about the rest of you guys, but I thought that Command could have done a better job with the coordination, planning, information gathering, and….well just about everything."

I heard a few people snicker and tried to keep myself from doing the same. I had to admit, Command did do a lousy job today. If it had been any other team but mine, the mission would have probably failed.

"Drake's right…Woah, I didn't think I would ever use those two words in the same sentence without the word 'not' somewhere in between. Anyways, what was up with Command? And did you hear his voice? It sounded like he was pinching his nose the whole time!" More snickers followed as the speaker, Kenichi Kaminaga, ignored the indignant look on Drake's face. Kenichi was a well built and sturdy individual, with spikey snow white hair. His appearance gave off a thuggish look, but he's easily one of the more complacent members of the team.

"What di-" Before Drake could finish his comeback, a new voice spoke out directly from my right. "Now, now. This isn't the time for arguing. Drake, I'm sure that Ken didn't mean to insult you, right Ken? "

I never knew a voice could be so sweet yet scary at the same time. Ken's red eyes widened and he swallowed nervously as he fell into his old habit of tracing the tattooed 6 on his right forearm. I couldn't help but pity him and hope that he answered correctly.

"Right, Ken?" The words came out more forcefully this time.

"Yes!" Ken blurted out a second later. "It wasn't an insult, Angela! Nope, what insult? You know I didn't insult you, right Drake?"

Drake, who probably didn't want to see Ken cry, hastily nodded in confirmation. I turned my head and noticed my second-in-command smile victoriously. It was scary what lengths my team would go to just to avoid making Angela Liu angry.

I let my eyes wander down a little, noting that the black jacket she had on when she came in was piled in front of her to make a make-shift pillow. The black dress shirt she was wearing wasn't buttoned up all the way, so I could make out the beginnings of what I knew was a tattoo that rested over her heart: the upper half of the number 2 stood out between the fiery red paw print. Before my eyes could wander any lower, Angela pulled up her jacket pillow to cover herself before giving me a small glare.

I shook my head to get rid of any unnecessary thoughts and then cleared my throat to gain everyone's attention. "Well to answer your earlier question, today's mission leader was, for lack of a better term, a Noob. Garret Doberman. His dad was one of Boss' advisors before he was KIA while protecting Boss at a meeting three months ago." I paused briefly to take a quick look at everyone's faces and noted the look of understanding. Garret Doberman might be a prick, but his father was a damn good man. "I'm thinking Boss felt obligated to give Mr. Dobberman's son a chance to see if he could live up to his old man's legacy. I'm sure you noticed, but this mission was so easy even a newly formed team could have succeeded. Why, then, do you think we were sent?"

"I'm thinking this was a test, right?" I nodded at the person who said that and wordlessly asked him to elaborate. Ryan Selwyn was perpetually sleepy, something he always blamed on his upbringing. His eyes were dropping down, as if he would fall asleep any minute. His head was held up by his right hand while his left arm carelessly sprawled on the table, displaying a prominent tattoo of the usual paw print and the number 3. His long black hair was tied up in a "manly" ponytail, as he puts it. "To send an elite team like ours to do a mission like this, that is probably the only reason unless we were being punished for something. We aren't, are we? I don't remember doing anything bad this month to warrant any punishment." He topped off his words with a yawn and was promptly smacked in the back of the head by the person sitting on his right. "Aww, man. It sucks having to sit between two girls…." he mumbled before ducking his head to dodge another strike that came from the opposite direction.

The girl to his right sat cross legged, showing off the number 4 inked into her left ankle. Her slightly curly brown hair hung just below her shoulders no longer having the frizzled look from before. She huffed before both reprimanding Ryan and adding on to his answer. "Honestly Ryan, how you can still be sleepy after all the naps you take is beyond me. But, back to the topic. This was probably to test Garret's competency, wasn't it? On a mission that would result in a near 100 percent success rate for our team, any major issues would be the fault of Command, right?" She looked to me, as if seeking confirmation. Hermione Granger always sought new information, whether good or bad.

"That is correct, Mione," I replied as I laced my fingers together in front of me and rested my chin on them. "So, given your expressions, I take it that you were not satisfied with Command's performance today?"

Drake snorted out a laugh. "Satisfied? That bloke was bloody incompetent. It's a miracle that we managed to finish the mission without someone dying." And while they snorted at the exaggeration, I saw everyone nod in agreement at the overall meaning.

Everyone continued to talk about their experiences and how they felt. I could tell you now, the bad definitely outweighed the good. "Hmm, if that's how you guys feel, then write it in your reports." I said before I got up from my seat. "But don't forget. What you write in your reports could potentially destroy Doberman's career. Are you guys willing to do something like that to someone recently orphaned?" I want to use 'orphaned' in a loose sense since the man was 17 and ¾ years old. But, 17 was still technically underage in the Mundane world.

I knew what I was going to write in my report, but I was curious about the others. Particularly Hermione, since she had the kindest heart out of all of us. She tended to identify with people too much and it showed in the way she talked and acted. Even earlier, I noticed that she used the name 'Garret' while everyone else called him 'Doberman' instead.

Angela was the one who replied to my question first. "Of course. Here, it doesn't matter what your background is or how much money you have. All that matters is your ability and let's face it, Garret Doberman is as good at leading missions as a 2 year old. I think the only thing he would be good for is cannon fodder…or maybe a test subject for the T&I department*." Ah, classical Angela. They didn't call her the Sadistic Angel* for nothing.

"Wow. That was pretty harsh, even for you," Drake said as he let out an involuntary shiver. "Shouldn't we cut him some slack? He's probably going through a rough patch right now. Besides, if he's half as good as his father, than he would be an asset to us."

Ryan shook his head. "But she's right. Our organization isn't about talent or hard work. Those are important, but what matters most are the results. Doberman didn't produce great results today, so he's out. He can work some desk jobs and let people like us work missions." The black haired youth plopped his arms on the desk in front of him before resting his head down in another lazy position. His blue eyes began to droop as he yawned for the umpteenth time that day. "If, by some off chance, he does get better, we can just put him in a better position then. As for right now, he isn't needed."

"But, if you think of it that way, the result of today's mission was still a success. So technically, shouldn't Garret pass?" Hermione pointed out as she tried to help the man.

"That's not entirely true." It was Ken's turn to drawl. "Today's true mission was to judge the performance of Mission Command. Everything else could be considered secondary."

"So, we're all in agreement?"

And for the battered and broken who've lost the will to pray,

Carpe Diem

We arrived outside the designated Base 10 minutes before the scheduled time. Like most of the Bases in foreign countries, this one was disguised as an ordinary shop on an ordinary street in an ordinary commercial district.

My, that was a lot of ordinaries.

The front of the shop was in German, giving a big hint as to which country we were currently in. All six of us walked in together and greeted the clerk sitting at the front desk. We passed by the curios and antiques that littered the shop and made our way to a door that held an 'Employees Only' sign.

Now, I want to say that the door had a top notch security system complete with fingerprint and retina scanning. I want to say that the door led to a secret elevator that went down 100 floors before opening to a gigantic room filled with dozens of computers and TV screens that streamed videos directly from different cameras.

I want to say all that, but unfortunately I can't due to budget reasons.

So instead, I took out a key that was given to me before the mission started and unlocked the door. We walked into a small and plain room that housed many other doors. Remembering my instructions, I walked towards the third door on the left, which led to some stairs. We went down about 2 floors before we were met by, surprise, yet another regular door which finally took us to the real Base.

Now, just because we had a tight budget didn't mean we had no security at all. Throughout the whole journey, we had to make sure to avoid triggering any booby traps. That's right, booby traps: things like wrong doors that led to spiked floors and touch sensitive tiles that shot arrows at you. All in all, the complexity of the traps made sure that intruders didn't stay intruders for long.

When we walked in, the Boss' face was already up on the main screen. We all snapped to attention and saluted him. The debriefing took place at exactly 1900 hours. The official debriefing didn't take place until 1930 hours, when a certain mission leader had retired and left the Base for the rest of the day. I made the oral report brief and to the point since the Boss could find the other details in the written reports.

"Good job, Team Fox. Once I go over the written reports, I'll make a decision about what to do with young Garret. Now, I know you guys just finished and would like some rest, but I have a new mission for you. It's a Priority 2 and you are the only capable team available right now."

I nodded at his words in understanding. It wasn't unusual for us to do back-to-back missions. "A category N or a category M one?"

"M. Pack your bags, you're headed to London. All necessary information will be given to you once you arrive at London Safehouse # 4. And Gale? I know you and your team have history there, but I expect no personal feelings to jeopardize the mission! I'll authorize you to reactivate Fox 7. Backup will be provided if necessary, but I doubt you and you team will need it. Now, get to it!"

"Yes, sir!" We saluted the Boss and watched as the screen flickered slightly before turning off.

I turned to the rest of my team and saw the thoughtful yet happy looks on their faces. Happy for the chance to reunite with our missing team member. Thoughtful for the reasons why we would be reactivating Fox 7 a whole year early. "You heard the man. We're moving out!"

My green eyes narrowed in thought. I hadn't been to England for around 5 years, and I hadn't been to London in almost 8. There were a lot of painful memories associated with that place for not just me, but Hermione and Drake as well. A category M meant the mission was Magic related. Hopefully, it won't have to do with them. I don't know how I would react if it does. But as I mentioned before, orders were orders.

I wonder what kind of mission we'll get.

*The T&I department – stands for Torture and Interrogation. A newly formed department made at the request of Fox 2 AKA Angela Liu after watching a particularly bad interrogation done by an ill prepared team. This department is tasked with teaching the skills of interrogation using both mental and physical attacks. It also performs any interrogation a team deems too hard to perform or too vital to mess up.

*The Sadistic Angel is one of Angela Liu's many nicknames, some of which include The Bloody Angel, She-Who-Scares-The-Crap-Out-Of-Me, and The Angel of Doom. Let it be noted that the word 'Angel' is used as a tribute to her first name rather than her spiritual and holy qualities. This particular nickname came about during a T&I department demo. Let's just say we don't talk about that anymore.

-Character Profile-

Name: Harrison Gale

Position: Fox 1

Info: Leader of Team Fox who spends most of his free time training. He loves to learn and try new things, often taking a member of Team Fox with him. He excels at all types of fighting, both armed and unarmed, and intelligence gathering. The phrase 'Jack of all trades, but master of none' is what he uses to define himself, though most would argue that his definition of master is skewed. He has the Team Fox logo with the number 1 in the middle tattooed on the nape of his neck.

Name: Angela Liu

Position: Fox 2

Info: Second-in-command of Team fox. She is the creator of the T&I department and the teams main interrogator, mostly because no one wants to fight her for the position. She specializes in close combat, but is no slouch when it comes to long range attacks. She has the Team Fox logo with the number 2 in the middle tattooed right over her heart.

Name: Ryan Selwyn

Position: Fox 3

Info: A martial arts master who is the team's leading unarmed combat specialist. It is said that he is always sleepy due to the fact that he spent most of his childhood waking up at 4 in the morning to train. Now, he loves taking naps even when he doesn't need to and just claims that he is making up for lost sleep. He has his Team Fox logo sporting the number 3 tattooed on his left forearm.

Name: Hermione Granger

Position: Fox 4

Info: The strategist of Team Fox and favors long range combat, and is therefore adept at using all forms of long range weapons. She and Fox 2 are best friends, despite their clashing personalities, and is often used as a way to mellow Fox 2 whenever she goes into her 'Sadistic Mode.' Her Team Fox logo is tattooed on her left ankle.

Name: Drake Black

Position: Fox 5

Info: Raised as an aristocrat from birth, he is the political mastermind behind Team Fox. He attends formal meetings with his Team Leader and is responsible for placating the higher ups when missions go awry. He prefers to not get his hands dirty, and uses a large array of poisons to get his job done. He is also the team's healer and sports the Team Fox logo over his right ankle.

Name: Kenichi Kaminaga

Position: Fox 6

Info: A sword specialist who favors wielding dual blades over the traditional katana that the members of his clan prefer. On the surface, his well- muscled body gives observers a feeling that he prefers strength over speed. But, he is overwhelmingly fast and nimble. As physically the strongest member of Team Fox, it is his job to manage the equipment. Fox 2 has affectionately called him the team's pack mule on more than one occasion. He has the team logo tattooed on his right forearm.

Name: ?

Position: Fox 7

Info: Stationed at somewhere in London for undercover work.