Chapter Twenty Six – Final Preparations
"Grayden, good to see you up and walking around again," Jennifer said.
Grayden nodded his head. "I hate doing that spell. It takes a lot out of guy," it had taken almost a week of rest to get back up to form. "Three times in two days. Not fun. Looks like I'm going to be called on again."
"You managed to detail all the protective magic that surrounds the house," Jennifer said. "But we're still working on how to penetrate it fast enough to take whoever is inside by surprise."
"That's going to be tricky," Grayden said. "Wand magic may be easier to detect, but its nature makes it harder to remove. Those protective spells are pretty heavily interlocked. Just forcing past them might end up destroying the house."
"We know," Jennifer said. "My grandfather sent over several books with counter spells and the Council has loaned us one of their best warlocks. Between him, Talerie and myself we should be able to find a way around the spells. It will take a few more days though."
"A warlock?" Grayden was puzzled. "Why isn't Ms Rosenberg helping?"
"She has a number of other responsibilities," Jennifer answered. "She is also busy setting up the Council's strike. Besides, we have no idea what would happen if a witch of her power were to enter one of the enclaves. The barriers were crafted specifically to keep people like her out. You and Talerie are both covered as the Crown's representative and, no offense, neither of you is in her league."
"None taken," Grayden responded. "Let me take a look at what you've got so far. I may not be the spell caster you are, but I do have my moments."
"Come on," Jennifer responded. "We're set up in Talerie's office."
"Two people just popped up in front of the house," Lt. Cranston said. "One man, black and a women, short, looks like orange and purple hair. They just disappeared into the enclave. Nothing on the external mikes. Guess they used one of those portkey things."
The other man in the surveillance truck pulled up a still shot of the two on one of his monitors. "No ID on the women," he said. "Facial recognition got a hit on the man. It's Shacklebolt."
"I guess that's our confirmation that he's working for Riddle," Cranston said. "I'll pass that on to 5. That makes only three people we've picked up entering or leaving the house from the street in last four days. Still no sign of Black."
"Too many ways in and out of the house that we can't monitor," the other man said. "I hate doing surveillance on magic wielders."
"So what do you make of it Willow?" Faye asked. "Took longer then planned. Suzzette and her team had a hard time getting it. Five days searching the forest and then an hour fighting past the demons guarding it."
Willow closed her eyes and passed her hands over the scepter. "Definitely feels like wand magic created it," she said. She opened her eyes and pointed to a mark at the base. "And that's the symbol of D'Karsh."
"So you think this will entice Riddle's people out of hiding?" Eric asked.
"They've gone to great lengths to get a hold of D'Karsh's other artifacts," Willow said. "From what Dawn could learn, this scepter was supposedly one the last things he created. I think they may want to get a hold of it. Take the pictures."
"Do we know what this thing is for?" Eric asked as he picked up the digital camera.
"Not yet," Willow replied. "All Dawn learned was that D'Karsh took steps to make sure it didn't wind up in the hands of his student and was kept away from other Wizards. It's popped from time to time over the centuries in various peoples' collections. But just as an oddity. Those demons got it after they killed the last owner and ransacked his belongings a few years ago."
"I think that's got it," Jennifer said. "We're going to have to coordinate the timing of the spells carefully."
"Shouldn't be a problem," Grayden replied. "I'm worried about how long it's going to take. Someone in the house might spot us."
"They haven't shown any interest in the surveillance vans," Talerie said. "We should be able pull the truck up close enough to the protective barriers. Working inside they won't see us."
"We're still not going to have that long until the Wizard who strengthened the protective charms notices that they've collapsed," Grayden pointed out. "Even isolating the enclave."
"Major Chisholm is confident this will be a fast hit and run strike," Talerie replied. "We should be out in less then ten minutes. Fifteen on the outside."
"I'll inform Director Buford we're ready," Jennifer said. "We'll have to time it with the Council's strike. I figure two days to set everything up."
"Sounds about right," Grayden said. "Two days and Riddle won't know what hit him."
The clerk looked up when the shop bell at Buckland's entrance went off. He was squib. The Wizard who owned the shop hired him to run the operation on Charing Cross Road so he didn't have to constantly move back and forth through the tunnel connecting it to his shop in Knockturn Alley. He also got along better with the muggle customers than his boss.
No one the Wizarding world knew about Buckland's except the owner, his employees and a few outside 'investors'. The store was illegal. Most of what they sold as antiques were actually spent charms, old portkeys and other useless knick-knacks. The stuff was supposed to be inert. And if something bad did happen, it would only happen to muggles foolish enough to buy it. They used the muggle currency to purchase muggle artifacts that were illegal in the Wizarding world. Items that they resold, at a substantial markup, at the shop in Knockturn Alley. A rather lucrative practice.
A young women entered the store. She was dressed casually and appeared very nervous.
"Hi," she said. Her accent marked her as American. "Are you in charge?"
"I run the store," the clerk answered. "How may I help you?"
"I was wondering if you could give me some information on an old antique I inherited from my grandfather," she said. "He died a couple of months ago and left it too me. I've been trying forever to figure out what it is. Someone told me your shop specializes in this sort of thing."
The Clerk was intrigued. Buckland's kept a deliberately low profile among the London antique community. They may rely on muggles as customers but they didn't want to be swamped by them. There was however a few items Buckland's made it known they were looking for. The Clerk didn't know why. And he was smart enough not to ask. A nosey squib didn't last very long in Knockturn Alley.
"Do you have the item with you?" he asked.
"No," she replied. "It's back at my grandfather's house. I do have a couple of pictures." She took the photos out of her pocket and handed them to the clerk.
He looked through them. He paused on one them. It was close up of a mark on the base. His boss had told him to keep an eye out for that mark. He didn't know what it meant. But Buckland was very clear he wanted any item that bore that mark.
"This is an interesting piece," he said. "Would you be interested in selling it?"
"No," the women replied. She noticed how his eyes lit up when he saw the symbol. She heard his heartbeat increase. Gotcha, she thought. This was one of Debra's first solo assignments and the first time the powers had sent her a vision. So far she was doing well. "This is one last things of my grandfather's I have. All I really want to know is its history."
He nodded. Why buy when you can steal. "If you give me your contact information I can research the item and send you what I learn."
He watched, as she seemed to think through his suggestion.
"Well," she said. "I'm going to be leaving town tomorrow to head back to the states. I'm currently staying at grandfather's house," she paused and fumbled around in her purse. "Here's the address and phone number. If you can send me anything this afternoon or tomorrow morning, I'll get it before I leave."
"I'll see what I can do," the clerk replied. "Do you mind if I hold onto these photos?"
"Not a problem. Thanks for your help," Debra turned and left the store. The clerk followed her to the door. After she left, he flipped over the closed sign and locked the door. He had to speak to Buckland immediately.
"M-master," Pettigrew said.
"Yes Wormtail, what is it," Voldemort spat in response.
"Buckland just came," Pettigrew said nervously. "He brought these," he handed the photos carefully to his master. Voldemort looked through them.
"Yess," Voldemort smiled. Pettigrew fought the urge to step back. "Fortune truly smiles on us. Summon Lucius. I have a task for him. A way to prove his loyalty after turning his back on me for all those years. And you shall accompany him Wormtail. You've proven capable of thievery, if little else."
"Yes M-master," Pettigrew bowed. "Buckland said that the woman who possesses the scepter will be leaving tomorrow. He doesn't know to where."
"Then hurry Wormtail," Voldemort said. "I want the scepter retrieved tonight."
"Yes Master, Wormtail will do as you ask."
"As it should be," Voldemort smiled again. Wormtail backed slowly away from Voldemort and turned to summon Lucius Malfoy. "Wormtail, one more thing."
Wormtail turned back towards Voldemort. "Yes Master."
"Make certain that Snape hears nothing of this."
Wormtail did not know why, but Voldemort was very clear about what Snape was to be told and what he was not to be told. Snape was never to learn about Buckland or the shop. He was kept out of certain meetings. All quietly of course. To most Death Eaters Snape looked to be highly trusted member of the inner circle. Only those part of the true inner circle knew the truth. Wormtail did not ask questions though. Reasons did not matter to him. His Master ordered it. It would be done.
"As you wish Master," Wormtail again turned to fulfill his Master's desire.