Chapter 15
Previous Chapter: "Four king ninety, it's four king sixty. We've got a homicide on Muller Drive, "came the voice over the wires.
"Negative, four king sixty. Give it to Burke."
"Sorry. Captain said to give it to you. Male Caucasian, age seventeen."
"Great. Did he have blond hair and big dimples?"
There was a long pause. "How'd you know ...?"
Severus and Harry both paled. They jumped into the car and Severus put his foot to the gas.
Severus slammed on the breaks outside his house and burst out of the car, sprinting up to the door. He flung it open and stopped dead. On the floor beneath the door was a tiny envelope, 'Seasons Greetings!' written in block letters on the front. Slowly, he picked it up and opened it.
'YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER.'
There was a snapshot with it. His eyes clenched shut after he saw the image of his daughter tied to a chair, blood seeping from a cut on her forehead.
"Bastards," he mutters. "Bastards."
Harry stared at him sorrowfully. The telephone started to ring. "Sev," he said softly.
Severus looked up and snapped out of it. Down the hall, Trishia moved to answer the phone.
"Don't answer that!" he yelled and rushed to scoop up the receiver. "Snape." He listened intently, a look of dread on his face. He hung up and stared straight ahead, unseeing. Trishia looked worried.
"Hon, what is it?"
"They took our kid ... Assholes took my kid ... "
Harry's jaw tightened, a look of brutal hatred sweeping across his face.
Auror Headquarters, Ireland
Burke leaned back in his chair, flipping the page of the comic book he was reading. Behind him, a group of Aurors are singing 'Deck the Halls'. Badly.
The phone rang.
"Burke, Homicide – just a moment, please – " He turned to the singing group. "Hey, will guys shut up, for Merlin's sake!" The room quiets. Slightly. "Yes, can I help you?"
Unbeknownst to Burke, Theodore Nott's voice came through the receiver.
"Hello, I'm calling from the Daily Prophet. We just obtained word that Harry Potter had some trouble on a case tonight – "
"Yes, Sergeant Potter has been killed. He was shot through the chest by unknown assailants."
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
"It's a bad day for all of us. And what is your name, sir?"
"Good-bye."
On the other side of town, Nott was in the back of a limo, Draco Malfoy sitting next to him. Nott hung up the phone.
"Bingo. Potter is out of the picture."
"Pity," Draco said, insincerely. "I want Snape taken alive."
"He may not talk."
"We have his little girl. He'll talk."
Godric's Hollow
Trishia walked around her daughter's room, touching things and trying not to break down crying. Severus entered and looked at her sadly. He handed her a gun.
"Take this. Until it's over, I don't want you to let it out of your sight." Trishia nodded. "They're not going to hurt her," he said reassuringly. "If I do exactly what they say ... they'll let her go. She's coming home."
"What about you?"
Severus didn't answer.
Harry paced in the living room, carefully pulling bits of glass from the assassination attempt out of his arms. He heard a noise and spun around, startled.
Carrie Snape stood there, looking adorable with her blue nightgown and cat cuddled in her arms.
Harry relaxed and walked over to her. "Hey, Missy."
"I can't sleep," she mumbled.
"Uh-oh, not good." He picked her up. "Who's your friend?"
"Snicket the cat."
"He's a cutie."
Carrie looked at him and slowly reached out a hand to touch the lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead. She looked fascinated.
"Ouch."
Harry smiled and whispered softly, "Yeah. Ouch." Suddenly, he hugged the girl tightly and closed his eyes.
When he opened them, he looked incredibly old and very tired.
Later
Carrie fell asleep on the couch, snuggled beneath an afghan. Harry and Severus stood across the room, conferring in hushed tones.
"You know they are going to kill her," Harry stated bluntly.
"Yes."
"If you want her back, you've got to take her away from them."
"I know."
"Good. We do this my way. You shoot, you shoot to kill. Get as many as you can. Don't miss."
"I won't miss."
Harry surveyed Severus. Finally, he said, "We're going to get bloody on this one. You're going to have to trust me."
"How ... how good are you?"
"What?"
"Are you only crazy or ... are you ... as good as you say you are?"
A pause. "No one can touch me."
"Good. Kill every fucking one of them. Okay?"
Grim determination showed in the fire in Harry's eyes. "Get half. I'll kill the other half."
The phone rang.
"Here we go," said Harry.
Le Mort, France
The apartment was dark when he arrived. Out on the street, carolers stood belting out 'Hark the Herald Angels Sing'. Harry glanced up at the wall calendar: the 22 of December.
He walked across the room and opened a closet. He pulled out an old cardboard box. Sitting next to it, he downed a shot of whiskey.
Inside the box was a black trench coat. He took it out and donned it. Underneath laid a hunting knife, which he held up to his face. The cold steel was reflected in his eyes.
Harry strapped the knife to his ankle. He added two more guns to his body and strapped another holster, plus wand, to his arm. He stood up and glanced over to the wall. The picture of his beautiful wife was still there.
"Forgive me."
A knock sounded at the door and Harry spun around quickly, gun in hand.
"It's me," Severus voice came through the door.
"Come in slow," Harry said cautiously.
Severus entered, eyeing Harry's outfit. He rested the briefcase he was carrying on the bed and opened it. It was filled with ammunition.
"Hollow points," he explained. "Armor piercing."
Harry nodded. "You weren't followed?"
"No." He watched as Harry grabbed handfuls of ammo. The older man began to hook a small microphone underneath his collar.
"Testing one – two – three?"
"Fine," replied Harry. He peered at the clock. "It's twelve-thirty. Let's move."
"Don't get to close," Severus warned. "They'll spot you."
Harry hoisted a long-range, sniper rifle over his shoulder and smirked at Severus' wide-eyes.
"Thousand yards, okay?"