Chapter One: Danger By Moonlight

Author note: This story is the sixty-fourth in the Magical Flashpoint series. It follows "Homeward Bound".

Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own Flashpoint, Harry Potter, Narnia, or Merlin.


The building on the outskirts of Toronto was much like most of the other buildings on its block, all of them high-rise condominiums packed full of apartments and families. The builders of this particular condominium had been a bit more adventurous, crafting a building that used glass as its primary exterior, with large concrete rectangles providing additional support for the balconies and floors of the building. The structure itself was staggered, with a large outdoor area above the building's fourth floor and the rest of the building taking up progressively less space. On the building's west side, an additional four floors rose to another outdoor area before narrowing to match the rest of the building and rising another two floors. Above even those floors, the topmost two floors were also the smallest, reserved exclusively for those willing to pay for the most elaborate views and largest penthouses.

A black and white helicopter hovered above the eighth floor outdoor area on the west side, its pilot watching carefully for any signs of activity below him. His co-pilot and backseat engineer were likewise engaged, all of their attention focused on the high-rise's lobby and the graceful second and third floor balconies that overlooked it.

In the middle of the lobby, two men were struggling near a large device; one was wearing a black and gray uniform while the other wore an all black uniform that looked as if it had been inspired by medieval armor. Though the first man – lean and raven-haired – was putting up a good struggle, his tan-skinned foe was winning the fight, slowly forcing the first man back and away from the device. Except for the two combatants and the device, the lobby was empty and the doors to the nearby office hung open, as though the occupants had left in a hurry.

Above them, on the second floor overlook, another fight raged as a brunet in black armor – the same as his tan-skinned first floor counterpart – struggled with a blond man in black and gray. Right next to the fight, a brunette watched, expression disinterested and her posture lax, despite the fact that she wore a uniform just like the blond's. The blond's teeth bared in a snarl as the brunet wrestled his weapon away, gasping in something like relief.

On the first floor, the tan-skinned man reared back and punched his opponent in the face, stunning him long enough to drag him over a meter away from the ominous device in the middle of the lobby. He paused near a handy pillar and punched the nearly unconscious raven again, knocking him out. Opponent dealt with, the officer was starting to turn when a gunshot rang out; the device detonated, flinging both men into the far wall like ragdolls.

As the explosion echoed, the brunet caught a suddenly limp blond and twisted, looking up with a horrified expression. Above them, on the third floor balcony, a tall bald man was lowering a sniper rifle, face completely blank and light blue eyes glazed over.


133 hours earlier (6 days earlier, 9:37 PM Toronto time)

Lisa watched in awe as the Red October dove away from the torpedo trying to destroy it. Beside her, Lou had his arm draped over her shoulders, a wry smile on his face as he regarded her amazement at the old movie. He was watching her more than the movie; he'd seen it a thousand times before and knew all the scenes by heart – or nearly so. It was much more fascinating for the constable to watch as Lisa leaned forward, completely enthralled by the Red October's fight for survival.

Her deep brown eyes sparkled in that way he adored, widening in delight as the USS Dallas threw itself in the line of fire, deliberately passing behind the Red October to acquire the Soviet torpedo. "They're doing it, Lou!"

"Sure are," Lou agreed, smile turning into a grin as Lisa bounced. Under his breath, he murmured, " 'Hope to Christ this works. All right, Chief, put us on the roof.' "

On the screen, the actor voiced the same lines, the temporary captain turning to the temporary second in command, who coolly calculated the timing before the Dallas escaped the pursuing torpedo.

Watching the sub shoot upwards, Lou whispered, " 'Come on, Big D, fly.' "

Lisa cheered as the sub burst out of the water, its nose rising dramatically in the air before gravity pulled it down with a huge splash. The Red October's crew, oblivious to their captain's defection, cheered as well, celebrating the battle between their sub and the Americans. At her side, Lou watched the action with fresh eyes, enjoying the movie all the more because she was enjoying it.

He had, out of a certain sense of obligation, introduced Lisa to the requisite chick flicks and romance comedies at first, mentally gritting his teeth at the absurdities both genres seemed to revel in. Wordy watched them with his family after all; they couldn't be that bad. Except…they were worse, taking all the fun out of movies and obsessed with stereotypes that Lou had never seen in real life.

Still, Lou was prepared to endure for Lisa's sake, though he did beg Wordy to point him to some better female-friendly movies – surely they couldn't all be so…bland, biased, and downright boring. To his surprise, Wordy had taken one look at his list of movies and tossed it on the spot. Then he'd lent Lou his family's copy of the BBC's Pride and Prejudice, promising to have a much better list in a day or two. The tan-skinned constable had taken the two-part movie home, dreading the experience, then ended up laughing just as much as Lisa at the antics of Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Collins, and the famous Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

By the time Wordy came through with his list of movies, Lou had already hit on a better strategy. Start with the classics and work his way forward. Though he'd been nervous when he put in Ghostbusters, Lisa howled at the library ghost scene and he knew they'd be all right. Wordy's list had much the same idea and even included a 'Do Not Watch Under Any Circumstance' section that Lou wished he'd had earlier – most of his original list was in that section.

On a whim, the constable popped in Memphis Belle one night and was utterly shocked when Lisa loved it, eagerly demanding more action movies. He obliged, soon discovering that Lisa's taste in movies was more similar to his own than he'd thought. At first, Lou fretted, worried he'd influenced her away from genres she might enjoy, but she simply whacked him on the shoulder and told him she was more than capable of deciding what movies she liked.

Obediently, he stopped worrying and soon found himself thoroughly enjoying Lisa's voyage of discovery. Movies could show them places they would never visit and times that were long past, something magic probably could do, but for some reason, never had. At least, not from what he'd seen. Aside from a few cautions that movies needed to be taken with a grain of salt – or simply seen as fantasy – Lou kept quiet and just watched his girlfriend explore her chosen world. He was thinking about introducing her to his video game collection next, but had yet to decide which title would give her an easy time while still allowing her to see what video games could do.

Absently, Lou turned his attention back to the movie, smirking at the sight of Alec Baldwin aiming his gun at the Russian cook/saboteur. Lisa gasped and cuddled close to her boyfriend as the hero fired, ending the internal threat to Red October. Lou hugged back, reveling in her innocent joy. It was easier than dealing with his own emotions. Easier by far than handling the tangle of the past several months.

On the screen, Baldwin and Connery made it back to Red October's command deck, both of them observing as the Dallas's captain gave the order to turn the massive sub towards the other Russian sub. To himself, Lou mouthed, " 'The hard part about playing chicken is knowing when to flinch.' "

As the torpedo shot towards its originating sub, Lisa tensed, then screamed; the boom of the on-screen explosion in perfect sync with someone pounding on the door. Lou snapped up his remote, pausing the movie before he strode to the door; a frown appeared when he checked the peephole. He pulled the door open, brows arching at the man panting on the other side.

"Wordy?"

"I got company," Wordy gasped out, glancing over his shoulder as Lisa joined her boyfriend, worry shining at the visible cuts and bruises on the big constable clad in an old t-shirt and shorts; the clothing was sweat-stained and the man himself had dirt and grass stains on his hands and knees.

Several cracks interrupted Lou's first question and the three were caught off guard by the wizards in dark robes and white masks.

"Impedimenta (1)!" Lisa screamed, her wand appearing in her hand to point past Wordy's arm at the newcomers. A turquoise beam leapt at the foremost wizard and Lisa stepped forward, expression fierce. Brandishing her wand, she hissed, "Flipendo (2)," casting a blue spell at a second wizard that knocked him backwards into his fellows. More spells followed as Lisa cast a quick shield before engaging the dark wizards in a whirlwind fight that swiftly escalated.

"Lou! Your badge!" Wordy rapped out, whirling to face his pursuers, fists rising. Lou dove back into his apartment, scrambling for both his phone and badge; he had no idea if anyone besides a member of Team One could trigger the Portkeys, but he wasn't taking any chances. Not with Neo Death Eaters on his front step. The Auror seized both and gave a fleeting thought to his backup weapon before shaking his head and racing back to the door.

"Wordy! Got 'em!" he yelled, plunging out into the hallway. "Lis!"

"On it," the witch acknowledged, casting a wide angle Banishing Charm before tossing a locking spell at the apartment door. Wordy snarled as his target flew away from him, but hustled to his teammate's side.

Lou held out the phone instead of the badge. Larger and untraceable. "Lis, grab on." Wordy's hand landed on the phone at nearly the same instant as Lisa seized his shoulder. "Haven."

The Portkey whirled them away.


They landed hard and the trio ended up sprawled all over each other on the safe house floor. On the bottom of the pile, Lou winced, hoping they hadn't accidently broken Lisa's wand; until he and Wordy could get to the backup guns hidden in the safe house, it was their only weapon. Above him, his team leader groaned and the less-lethal specialist relaxed; Lis was on the top.

It took a minute or two to untangle themselves and Wordy muttered something rather ungracious under his breath, but Lou didn't say anything. They'd all changed since Sarge had…left. They'd even changed as the initial shock and grief wore off. Ed took Sarge's protectiveness towards his team to new heights, mother henning all of them to death. Wordy went the opposite route, becoming cool and cold. He still cared; they all knew that; but he rapped out orders with a rigid, unforgiving edge to his attitude and tone. He wouldn't let them get close either – either physically or emotionally. Not even Ed had been spared Wordy's change of heart, prompting more than one fight between the best friends.

Jules and Sam were still dating, but it was more out of a sense of obligation than because they truly wanted to. Lou, the team's new backup negotiator, had pressed Jules on why; they'd been willing to risk their spots and their entire team, so what had changed? She hadn't answered, instead snapping that he should focus on learning how to negotiate better. He hadn't asked again, opting to just watch instead. He watched them dance around each other and he knew. They still loved each other, but somehow, someway, Sarge had been an integral part of it. In losing him, they'd lost their foundation and without that, their whole relationship was falling apart.

Lou understood, even if it was different for him; he hadn't met Lisa through work and though his team had saved her, they weren't part of his relationship. Not that Sarge's death hadn't affected him and Lisa; it had, but it wasn't the end of them. He'd lost count of the nights he'd practically cried himself to sleep in Lisa's arms, grieving a man who'd almost been a second father to him. She never complained, just held him and stroked his hair. Her strength had given him enough of his own to get through each day without him. It would never go away, but slowly, painfully, Lou was coming to terms with his boss's death. Though he would never forgive himself or his teammates for letting Sarge fall. For believing the lies he'd been forced to tell them. He would never take a sudden change in a friend at face value ever again.

Which just left…Spike. If Ed had gone all mother hen and Wordy had gone completely cold, Spike had turned into a shell of a man. Apathetic and going through the motions; there was no life in his voice or his eyes. He did his job and went home, falling into bed almost as soon as he was through the door – at least according to his mother. Lou had tried inviting Spike over to his place, but the bomb tech had refused in a dead monotone that did nothing to hide how badly he was taking the Sarge's death. One night, Lou had simply turned up at the Scarlatti residence and bullied Spike out of bed, but it hadn't done any good. Spike had merely sat on his floor, knees tucked close and chin resting on the space between them while he hugged his legs. He'd refused to respond to any of Lou's prods and Lou knew he'd gone back to bed as soon as his friend left the room. Wary of Spike's behavior, the budding negotiator stole his friend's backup gun and found something new to worry about when Spike failed to demand it back.

"Coming?"

Lou came out of his reverie and eyed Wordy warily, not liking that cold, uncaring tone from his friend. In those few instants at his apartment, he'd seen the old Wordy and he wanted that Wordy back. Not this near stranger who'd replaced the generous, good-hearted constable who didn't know the meaning of the word 'quit'. The Wordy who always offered encouragement and did his best to see the good in people, no matter how bad a situation got.

Without speaking, Lou pushed himself back to his feet and let his eyes narrow. "Wordy, what's going on?"

Wordy swallowed hard, half-turning away from his teammate. "Look, just gimme a sec to see if Shelley and the girls made it."

Shelley and the… Lou's jaw dropped open, horror lighting his eyes. What in the world was going on? Without any further protest, constable and witch followed the big man down the stairs into the lower, protected level of the safe house. It was something Giles had insisted on when they'd first come up with the idea of Portkeys set to a safe house; in theory, it meant Team One could hide themselves and any one they brought with them if need be. Not that they'd needed it…until now.

To Lou's considerable relief, Shelley and the girls were in the basement, safe and sound, though they were all shaking with nerves and fear. Lou hung back, holding out an arm to keep Lisa still while Wordy hurried to his family.

"Daddy!" Ally cried, reaching out to her father; Wordy scooped her up and threw his free arm around Shelley. Their remaining two girls clung to their parents' legs and Lou was forced to swallow a lump in his throat. Their Wordy wasn't gone, just buried by grief and regret. Struggling to adjust to a world without Sarge and find his place as Team One's new team leader.

For several minutes, the couple simply watched the family, neither of them speaking, though their concern and curiosity was palpable. Finally, Lou cleared his throat – while reluctant to break Wordy away from his family, he and Lisa needed to know what the heck was going on. Why had Neo Death Eaters been chasing Wordy and why was his family in the safe house? Worse…where was the rest of Team One?

Somehow, Lou had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer to any of his questions.


Wordy stiffened at Lou's discrete cough. He knew Lou needed to know what had happened, why he'd turned up on his teammate's door with dark wizards right on his tail, and Lisa deserved to know what she was in the middle of. But with his imagination running wild and 'what-if's pressing down, it was…hard. Hard to let go of his family and face the music.

Gently, Shelley pried Ally away from him and nodded towards the patient couple. Wordy smiled weakly; he'd always known she was stronger than him by far. Then he drew in a deep breath and turned to face Lou head on. "So. Explanation."

"That'd be nice," Lou agreed, meeting Wordy's gray eyes.

Sighing, Wordy scrubbed his hands through his hair. "Okay."


"It started an hour ago. Maybe two. I was out in the front yard…"

Kevin knelt in front of his wife's garden in their front yard, enjoying the cool night air while he worked on a particularly stubborn part of Shelley's prized plot. No matter what she planted, nothing grew in this corner, so she'd turned to her husband to fix whatever the problem was.

The break was nice, as was the chance to tackle an issue that had nothing to do with work. There was still a hole in his chest from Sarge's loss. Hole. More like a ripping, rending wound that wept with loss and sorrow and grief. Kevin jabbed his hand shovel into the dirt, pretending, if only for a few seconds, that he wasn't Team One, wasn't a cop at all. Just another suburban husband working on the honey-do list and whiling his Sunday away.

A frown appeared as he dug through the dirt. Something about the dirt seemed off, though he wasn't an expert. Hmmm… This might just call for reinforcements from the local hardware store. Expert assistance. Now…how to break to the news to Shelley…

"Evening, Word."

"He came outta nowhere, Lou; Ed doesn't do that."

"I know, man; keep going."

Kevin jerked to the side, on his feet and brandishing the shovel before he registered his friend's presence. "Jeez, Ed, don't you make any noise?"

Ed didn't laugh and his expression was bland as he regarded his constable. "Come on, we got a call."

The brunet's eyes narrowed. "Ed, we're off until tomorrow," he countered. "Besides, if there's a hot call, you could just call me. On my phone. You didn't have to trek all the way out here."

The other didn't react at all – and something about the look in his eyes was starting to trip Wordy's alarm bells. "Come on, let's go."

Wordy was about to snap at him again when another sound drew his head sideways to see Sam and Jules, standing near his front door. A tiny spark of awareness and desperation shone in blue eyes. Realization hit the big constable like a kick to the gut and he whirled, hurling his shovel at the wizard who'd crept up behind him and been about to curse him.

The man staggered back, sputtering outrage, and Wordy launched forward, slugging his opponent in the jaw before he took off, racing for his front door. Sam and Jules never even twitched as he shoved past them. "Shelley!" he yelled, ramming into his own hallway; quickly, deliberately, he snapped around and threw his door shut, one hand ramming the deadbolt home. "Claire! Lilly! Ally!"

"Kevin, what's wrong?" Shelley asked, stepping out of the kitchen.

"Grab my phone and hurry," Wordy ordered, whipping back to face her. When she didn't move, he snapped, "Now."

While she ducked back into the kitchen for his phone, Wordy raced for the bedroom and his backup gun. He swooped in and snatched his badge off the bedside table; he was about to go for his gun case when he heard splitting wood. Instinct screamed and he threw himself back into the hallway, hurtling for Shelley and his daughters.

Claire appeared from her room. "Dad?"

The big constable skidded to a stop and thrust the badge into her hands. "Go get your sisters, Claire. You know the trigger phrase, right?"

"Yes, Daddy." Fear shone in her eyes, but she stood tall.

Wordy forced a smile. "Good, go. I love you."

She wanted to hug him, he could tell, but instead she scrambled away, calling, "I love you, Daddy," over her shoulder.

Good girl. He ran for the kitchen, smiling at Claire's yell of "Haven!" from behind him. Ahead of him, Shelley had his phone.

"Kill her!"

No! "Haven!" Wordy roared; Shelley vanished an instant before Jules could fire. The brunette turned right into her teammate's body check. She tumbled into Sam and Wordy caught that flash of true awareness in the blond's eyes before he was through his front door again.

Ed was right outside; the collision took both men down as a yellow-green curse sailed over their heads. Wordy rolled sideways and scrambled back to his feet, running full pelt for the street. His teammates' cars were parked all in a line and Wordy felt his stomach drop at the sight of Spike's sedan.

Wait… Where was Lou's car? Hope exploded in the constable's chest, maybe he wasn't alone, maybe they still had a chance. He stumbled as his foot caught the lid of some city utility thing in his yard; in the second it took to recover, he realized Sam's car was running. You crazy… Sam…you're doing it, aren't you? You're fighting them.

With no further hesitation, Wordy dove for the car, sliding inside and peeling out before any of the Neo Death Eaters could stop him. As soon as he was away, the officer put the car in high gear, racing for Lou's apartment complex.


Lou whistled low under his breath. "All of them?"

Wordy slumped, looking more careworn than Lou could ever remember and that was saying something in the wake of their Sergeant's death. "Yeah, Lou. All of them."

"Sophie? Clark? Izzy?" Thank Aslan that Spike's mother had just left on a month-long trip back to Italy.

Wordy bit his lip. "No idea," he admitted. "But probably."

For a long moment, silence hung around the small group, the weight of the situation sinking in. "Dang," Lou whispered. With most of Team One Imperiused and no idea of where, when, or why it had happened, they were, well and truly, completely on their own.


[1] Latin for 'a hindrance'

[2] Derived from 'flip' and 'end'