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Drabble 4
The house was a remote tumbledown farmstead on the Suffolk coast. The house was bigger on the inside, leading Callum to speculate very loudly over the radio about Timelord-Wizard interspecies breeding. It did appear, however, to actually be used as a house. The terrorist end of the business appeared to be focused around the disused milking parlour in the largest of the outbuildings. Ruth couldn't honestly say seen a lot of anti-muggle squib terrorists before so the rule book on how to deal with them was rather blank.
The coastal location however, was clearly for pure old-fashioned convenience. Looking at the video feed being sent back to the Grid from the tiny camera attached to Harry Potter's glasses, Ruth was able to tell at once that much of the materials must have been smuggled ashore overnight on the stretch of remote coastline that bordered the north sea. Illegal arms, explosives and various electronics that could only have been obtained on the black market along with what looked like an array of unexploded WW2 ordinance that had probably been discovered locally.
"Wizard One to Mama Bear," Arthur Weasley's voice echoed over the radio, "I can't believe I'm using a real radio!"
"I knew we shouldn't have trusted Callum to draw up the call signs," Ruth muttered to herself.
"What's that Mama Bear?" Arthur was whispering so loudly he was probably being more obvious than if he wasn't whispering at all in the first place.
"Nothing, Wizard One. Alpha One, status?"
A frustrated sigh came over the radio. "Are you sure I can't go in with them? Can't you ask Papa Bear again?"
"Do as you're told, Alpha One. You asked for field duty and Papa Bear;s letting you go on field duty."
"But they're doing magic!" Callum's voice exclaimed over the radio in the exact manner of a toddler on the verge of throwing a tantrum. "And I'm stuck in a pickup half a mile away with a bunch of broomsticks."
In the end, half a mile away turned out to be barely a safe distance when the spells started flying. Without the ability to apparate, the squib ringleader of the group decided to make a getaway on foot as his three lieutenants tried to fight off Harry Potter and Arthur Weasley. Callum got to have his moment of glory by walloping a known terrorist over the head with the wooden end of a Nimbus 10,000 and tying him up with the knee-length socks from Potter's Quidditch kit, which didn't appear to have been washed since the last time it was worn. And possibly the time before that.
"Status, Alpha One?" Ruth demanded. By this point half the Grid was listening in. Her boss Harry Pearce was standing leaning over hear chair, listening to every word that came in over the comms.
"Tell Papa Bear we got 'em!" Callum grinned down the line.
