AN - I normally can't update so quick, but this chapter was ready already so here goes. Hope you all enjoy
In the dusky sky above Sweet Home, Oregon, a chain of events began that was becoming commonplace throughout the United States. Tomorrow morning, there would be nothing about it in the newspaper. There would be no idle gossip about it. People would go about their day as though it was any other, unaware that they were now safer than they were last night.
Just over a mile into the sky, a single Predator C Avenger was flying. It had been recording data since the early morning hours, and now as night fell its mission shifted. Signals were received from several states away, by an operator locked in a secure room. The time for intelligence collection was over, it was time for action.
Powerful optics looked down on a single, large cabin, tucked away in the in the woods above Foster Lake. Bright green beams of light skipped around from the wood line, angled toward the cabin as the ground team made it to their final waypoint.
"Reaper team is on Orchid." None of them were sure who chose to use types of flowers for the checkpoint code-names, though it was responsible for some amusement during their briefing. Down on the ground, Captain Bradley Gordon whispered into his throat-mic, alerting the operations commander, Sentinel, that their team was at the final checkpoint. He, along with the seven other operators of Reaper team were hidden in the woods outside the target cabin. MACUSA had been giving JSOC intelligence about any location they suspected housed dark creatures.
This location was suspected to house a particularly violent werewolf pack. They were smart, finding lone hunters or elderly retired RV campers to hunt. JSOC ordered one of its Avengers into the area, a stealth drone with internal weapons racks that could carry up to three thousand pounds of explosives and could stay in flight for up to twenty hours. After confirming that there were in fact werewolves in the area, Reaper team was deployed.
"Sentinel copies, Orchid," the voice replied. With the final waypoint occupied, the Avenger operator switched his optics to thermal and scanned the cabin, confirming that all ten werewolves were present. After a careful count, then recount, he submitted the confirmation code to command. "Reaper team is a go."
"Reaper copies, go," Gordon confirmed, and started slowly toward the cabin. It was nearly pitch black outside, and to compensate for it, each of the operators wore a set of GPNVG-18 goggles on the front of their helmets. The goggles had four lenses that worked together to create a ninety-seven degree field of view, keeping their peripheral vision intact during low light operations.
Gordon was headed toward the front door, as Sergeant First Class Sanderson took his four-man fireteam to the rear door. Gordon gripped his rifle tightly as he neared his entry point. His rifle, an HK416 was developed for the special operations community. It used a gas piston system that significantly reduced weapon malfunctions, making it a much more reliable rifle. Each of them fielded the latest in weapons suppressors, holographic sights, grips, and flashlights, customizing to the comfort of each individual operator.
"Reaper, be advised-" whatever Sentinel was about to say was cut off as the front door of the cabin burst outward. Several men rushed outside straight at them, snarling violently. While werewolves only changed during a full moon, the more violent ones still kept a number of their animalistic tendencies while human. They were very strong and would do everything they could to physically tear people apart, or worse in Gordon's opinion, eat you.
"Light 'em up!" Gordon shouted even as he began rapidly firing into the closest target. Their magazines each had a red stripe, and each round fired was its own hybrid of a stunning spell. Gordon's target collapsed as several shots plowed into its gut, and Gordon shifted targets. Within several seconds, all ten werewolves were on the ground, unmoving.
"Reaper 2, secure the cabin!" Gordon called to Sanderson on the radio. The four operators at the back of the cabin entered and verified that there were no more threats while Gordon and the rest of Reaper team went about binding the werewolves. The task was much easier now that they had the grey striped Incarcerous rounds. Each shot fired bound the target securely with ropes from the shoulders to their waist.
"Cabin secure," Sanderson's voice came over the radio. Gordon, satisfied that the site was secure, ended his portion of the operation.
"Sentinel, Reaper team. Site secure, all targets accounted for." Gordon said as the rest of the team began lining up the bound werewolves.
"Sentinel copies, stand-by for retasking." Everyone on the team stopped what they were doing at those words. Retasking meant that something else was going on, near enough to their location that they were going to be the response.
"Double time that lineup." Gordon said, and everyone got back to work. Sanderson came jogging down the front steps to Gordon with something large in his hand.
"What do you make of this?" He handed it to Gordon. It was a person's head. Or vampires head, as the case was. Gordon inspected the blood stained lips, and noted that behind them were elongated, sharp teeth. "Who's it look like though?" Sanderson asked, obviously with someone in mind.
"Uh," Gordon took a better look and paused. He dropped the head and rotated his left wrist to face him. Each of the operators carried a Special Operators Linked Data Assistant, or SOLDA. Most of them pronounced it "solja" often followed by a pop culture joke, or simply as their PDA. It was a flexible touch screen that wrapped around their wrist. On it, they could access anything they could need: maps of the battlefield, UAV footage, language translation, access to the Orbital Cargo Delivery Satellite network, the list of high value targets, among other functions. It was the HVT list that he needed.
He took a quick look through the list, checking the pictures as he went. Jackpot. Collin Averman, a notorious vampire nest leader. The nest was one of the oldest in the United States, and MACUSA estimated there were over fifty vampires in it. If its leaders head was here, he couldn't imagine the nest being far off. In fact, he imagined they would likely be pissed off.
"Reaper team, take up defensive positions immediately." Sentinel beat him to the order. They must have figured it out as well. "You have a company strength force of vampires bearing down on your position."
Great, he thought to himself, fifty plus vampires. The nest found them. He cut the introspection short and changed his magazine to lethal rounds. Vampires were fast and while they could be taken down with the stunning ammunition, he was not certain that they could get around to binding them all before others started waking up. He wasn't going to lose his guys trying to keep the bad guys alive.
"Go lethal," he ordered as his men hustled inside the cabin, leaving the bound werewolves to their fate. They circled up in the center of the living room, getting behind overturned furniture and ensuring the best firing lanes possible. Fifty was a lot to hold out against, but if anyone could do it, he would bet on his guys.
"Reaper team, Sentinel," their command element called over the radio. "Extraction helicopter will be on station in three mikes. Hold out until then, then double-time to the bird. We are dropping a payload on the house as soon as you're in the air."
"Three minutes…" Sgt. Strong muttered, mirroring the sentiment shared by the entire team. Three minutes was a lifetime in combat. He checked his watch quickly and began the painfully slow mental countdown.
Gordon, closest to the broken main door, heard a wet squishing sound. Sounds like they made it to the werewolves. He imagined they were being torn apart by the vampires. Bound and stunned, they were completely unable to defend themselves. Gordon might have felt bad, if they weren't tearing innocent people apart for sport less than a day ago that is.
"Contact!" Staff Sgt. Nelson shouted, just before he fired several shots. After those initial shots, all hell broke loose. The sound of breaking glass barely drowned out the suppressed gunfire as the vampires made their bloodthirsty assault. Vampires were among the more curious creatures in the wizarding world. They remained completely in control of themselves, unless of course they caught the scent of blood. Once that happened, they went wild, they frenzied. Almost like sharks. After what felt like an eternity, Gordon heard the soft thrumming of helicopter rotors.
"Get ready to break, rear door to the LZ. Fireteam one to the door, then cover. Fireteam two the bird, then cover." Gordon shouted his orders over the cacophony that was erupting around them. "Break!" he yelled. Staff Sergeant Grimes, Sergeants Steele and Matthews, and Gordon broke from their cover while the rest of fireteam 2 stayed behind, holding the position with a high volume of gunfire. As soon as Gordon's fireteam made it to the door, Gordon turned with Grimes to cover the withdrawal. Both sergeants stepped outside, covering the other end of the exit so they wouldn't get ambushed right as they left. "Team two, go!" Gordon yelled.
"Moving!" Sanderson shouted, and his fireteam left their cover, running for the door. As soon as they made it outside, they could see a pair of SUH-60 Blackhawks, one getting ready to touch down in the clearing about two hundred yards from the cabin, and the other circling above. The SUH-60 was an upgraded variant of the venerable workhorse of the United States military, its most notable difference being the flat angles designed to refract radar pulses and streamlined rotors that made it one of the quietest helicopters utilized by the military.
Sanderson and his fireteam ran for the jet-black helicopter, even as the one flying over watch began providing cover fire with its M134 minigun. It was standard practice, especially in aviation to load every tenth cartridge as a "tracer round" which upon firing, would burn brightly. The bullet travels so fast that it leaves a streak, showing where that shot was placed and giving a machine gunner the ability to correct his aim. The eight-barreled M134 fired upwards of six thousand rounds per minute, so fast that a burst looked more like a steady laser beam.
"Covering fire!" Sanderson shouted as his fireteam reached the extraction helicopter. They turned and formed a semicircle around the open side door, and started firing as Gordon's team headed their way. Once they reached the helicopter, they started loading up.
"One, two, three…" Gordon counted as each of his men got aboard the helicopter. It was a simple thing, but it ensured that no one got left behind on accident. Combat was chaotic. Keeping calm and methodical kept you alive. "Seven!" Gordon shouted as Sanderson climbed aboard, then reached a hand out. Gordon took it and was heaved into the helicopter. "Everyone is accounted for, go!" Gordon yelled. The pilot didn't need to be told twice, and immediately the helicopter lifted from the ground, banking toward the right.
"Weapon away." They heard over the radio as the helicopters continued rising. It was another several long seconds before there was a bright flash and a loud detonation. The Avenger had dropped a two thousand pound bomb directly on the cabin.
It was originally believed that only a wooden stake to the heart or sunlight were the only ways to kill a vampire. It turned out that wood or silver damaging the brain would also work, though that still was not the only way. Catastrophic damage would also kill most dark creatures believed to be impervious to all but certain, specific deaths. Explosives or even just a high volume of gunfire could do it.
The rest of the vampire coven was destroyed in the blast. JSOC, after its first few operations, had formed a unit to clean up after operations. They made sure there was no evidence that the military had been there, and that no evidence of the supernatural existed.
There were very few neighbors nearby, and even fewer who cared about those around them. The remoteness made it easier to set up a drug trade. By the time the authorities were called to investigate, the scene was a familiar one, albeit on a much larger scale. Deputies and the fire marshal investigated the site and ruled it an accidental explosion in a methamphetamine lab. It happened a couple times a year at least. Case closed.
Their MACUSA liaison had been ecstatic when they informed him that they not only wiped out a dangerous werewolf pack, but had also eliminated one of the oldest and most dangerous vampire covens on the west coast. Reaper team alone had taken on several werewolf packs, a pair of vampire nests, a particularly violent family of sasquatches, and a pair of dementors. After each successful operation, it was tradition to unwind.
"Another one down!" Bradley Gordon shouted, raising a glass of root beer. His team was celebrating the success of their latest operation. Staff Sergeant Eric Grimes was fiddling with the radio, and had finally gotten reception to the classic rock station. The rest of them were otherwise occupied within the "operators bar." Many special operations units had a bar, filled with food, alcohol, and entertainment. They would go there for celebrations or just regular hanging out between missions. The Spartans were no different.
Well, they were slightly different. Being that Gordon, at sixteen years old, was one of the older Spartan special forces operators, they could not stock alcohol. They had a fantastic assortment of sodas, though they routinely griped about the fact that they were the only Special Forces unit that couldn't consume alcohol.
"This'll work," Eric said, satisfied with the music selection. He went and sat at the bar with Gordon, selecting a bottle of his favorite, cherry soda. Eric was the team 'model' and had exceptionally good looks. He was routinely jabbed at for it, but took it in stride.
Sergeants Jason Steele and Ian Harden were again at the corner table, sitting across from each other, locked in a vicious arm wrestling battle. The two were often found lifting weights together and were by far the largest on the team. They were constantly locked in battles of strength, which to this day had not determined a clear winner.
Sgt. David Strong was the only other one sitting at the bar, furiously scribbling in his sudoku book. He was their forward observer, and math was a necessity for calling in air and artillery strikes. He started doing math puzzles to help get used to it, and now he did it because he "enjoyed it," though the rest of the team gave him a hard time for it.
Sergeant First Class Ryan Sanderson, Reaper teams second in command, was napping in a hammock they had installed in the corner opposite the "arm wrestling" table where Jason and Ian liked to sit. Ryan lived and breathed work and most of the guys thought he was a bit of a hard ass. He did not tolerate incompetence very well, but there was no one quite like him in a fight.
Staff Sergeant Sam Nelson had just returned from the bathroom, and headed for the bar. He, like Ryan, kept to himself a lot of the time. He was the shortest guy on the team at about five foot seven inches, and what he lacked in height he made up for in temper. He got behind the bar and went straight to the coffee machine, pouring himself a generous cup. He was an avid coffee drinker, one of the only in the unit. He sat down at the bar quietly and stirred in his sugar and creamer.
"Goddamnit!" he shouted, startling Ryan awake and causing heads to turn as he spit his sip of coffee across the bar. "Matthews," he yelled at Sgt. Mike Matthews, the unit's prankster. If he spent half the effort he spent on elaborate pranks on his job instead, he probably would have at least made Staff Sergeant. "Quit putting the damned salt in the sugar jar!" His face was red as he stormed to the sink and rinsed the rest of the cup down the drain.
"My bad," Mike got out between fits of laughter, "last time, for sure." He was smiling into his own drink. Sam huffed, certain that it was definitely not going to be the last time. Meanwhile Ian was complaining to Jason that he was distracted, and that was the only reason he lost the arm wrestle.
"Rematch," he said, putting his arm in position. Jason laughed and quickly grabbed his friend's hand, and just like that they were locked in another battle.
Gordon smiled at the scene. He was proud of his guys, and they deserved some down time. He took another sip of his root beer, content to watch the team.
"Colonel, please, come in." General Thomas beckoned Sumner into his office. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing toward the chair in front of his desk.
"Sir," Sumner greeted the general, and sat. He was still trying to get used to being called Colonel. The promotion from Captain straight to Colonel was unorthodox to say the least, but it appeared that none of the other officers Thomas trusted for the assignment had success in their vaccinations. Colonel Sumner was far from the last officer General Thomas would have picked for the assignment, but someone like Major Loren, with experience leading large numbers, would have been nice.
"I just got word from MACUSA, their ambassador just returned from the UK." General Thomas was not a fan of these political games, and knew Sumner wasn't either. "Apparently, the British Ministry is still chafing about the incursion into Hogwarts. I haven't been expressly asked, but I can read between the lines. You, along with Informer Woods will be going to Britain to meet with the Minster of Magic to issue a formal apology for the incident. You'll leave immediately."
"Right," Sumner said curtly. He knew logically that he hadn't done anything wrong given the information he had at the time. He knew the apology was more political than anything, but that didn't keep him from feeling a little irritated by it.
"Just apologize about the misunderstanding and placate any concerns they may have about the task force and the Statute of Secrecy," the general said. He dismissed Sumner, who left to fetch Informer Woods.
Several hours later, Colonel Sumner and Informer Woods were walking through the atrium of the British Ministry of Magic, being led by a ministry official calling himself Burton. The floors were a polished, dark wood of some sort, and Sumner's dress shoes clicked with each step. He tried to ignore the stares as he walked along. He stood out from the crowd in his dress uniform.
"Impressive, innit?" Burton said, gesturing at a fountain they were walking past. It was significantly larger than the one he had seen in the Woolworth Building and in the center was a large golden statue labeled "The Fountain of Brethren." A witch and wizard stood proudly, and a centaur and two creatures he was not familiar with stood near, staring up adoringly at them.
"Yeah," Woods said, thinking along the same lines as Sumner. Brethren didn't seem to be quite the right word.
"Right this way, yea?" Burton continued on toward the elevators. Sumner mentally cursed at the thought of riding another magical elevator and braced himself. Once inside, he realized it appeared more or less like a normal elevator. Old fashioned perhaps, with a pull down gate, but normal.
"Minister's office." Burton scanned the buttons, finally selecting one. The elevator jerked backwards, then up quickly, then to the right for what seemed like a long time before it came to a stop. It was not as jarring as the American ones, but it still wasn't a smooth ride. "Out ya go." Burton indicated the open door. "Minister's office is down the hall to the right. Can' miss it." Both men stepped out, and Burton closed the elevator door.
"Down the hall, to the right," Sumner repeated, looking at the long hall ahead. He started walking, with Woods close in tow.
"Can't miss it," Woods finished Burtons comment, amused by the strange man. They made their way down the hall passing doors with several different labels. "Assistant to the Minister," "Deputy Assistant to the Minister's Assistant," and so on. Finally, they reached the final door on the right. It was a black door, across the top, labeled in magnificent golden letters read "Minister of Magic."
"Looks like the place," Sumner said quietly. He knocked twice and was answered almost immediately.
"Come in," a man's voice said. Sumner opened the door and saw a short, plump, balding man sitting behind a desk that could only be described as "excessive" in the Colonel's opinion. The man, who Colonel Sumner determined must be Minister Fudge, was a little red in the face. It took Sumner a moment to notice that, standing farther into the room, there was another man.
He was tall and very old looking, and had a long grey beard that passed his waistline. He looked up at Sumner with a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. It was the headmaster of Hogwarts, though for the life of him, Sumner could not remember the man's name.
"Good day to you, Colonel Sumner, I believe it is," the man greeted him cheerfully, obviously not holding a grudge about the incursion.
"Headmaster," Sumner said, deciding that some greeting was better than nothing.
"Dumbledore," he said, answering Sumner's unasked question as though he had spoken it aloud. "Don't worry, I am not offended. But then you are not here to see me are you?"
"I imagine it does concern you, so you may as well stay," Sumner said, deciding he liked the headmaster already more than Minister Fudge. The short man looked on at the short conversation with his mouth slightly agape, as though he wished to interrupt it. "That is, if it is agreeable to you Sir." Sumner looked at Fudge for his reply.
"Yes, of course," he said quickly, obviously attempting to seem cheerful, though it appeared he had not yet gotten over whatever he and Dumbledore had been talking about. No one said anything about it. "Please, go on," Fudge gestured toward Sumner. Woods stood near the door, and Dumbledore continued to stand near a far bookshelf, thumbing through an old book of some kind.
"Sir, on behalf of the United States military, and the American magical congress, I would like to apologize for the incursion into Hogwarts. Had we known what it was at the time, we would not have gone near it, I assure you. As for Task Force Ansible, you can rest assured that we are well aware of and uphold the International Statute of Secrecy. We take the safety of the magical community very seriously. Should you ever need our support, MACUSA and JSOC would like to assure you that you'll have it." Sumner had rehearsed it in his mind several times before they took the floo network to Britain, and he spoke flawlessly and professionally.
"Is that what you're on about?" Fudge asked, a genuine look of amusement crossed his face. "Water under the bridge dear fellow, goodness. Ambassador Goodwin took my ribbing much too seriously, I'm afraid." Fudge said waving his hands as though to blow the whole idea away from him.
"Might I ask about this Task Force you speak of?" Dumbledore asked politely. Colonel Sumner eyed the man for a moment. It was hardly being kept a secret within the magical community.
"Task Force Ansible is the unit I lead. It was created with support from the magical government in America to combat threats to both magical and muggle citizens alike. Currently, we have been undertaking operations to clear the United States of dark creatures," Sumner said, proud of the men and women under his command.
"Fascinating," Dumbledore said simply. "And you say that you would be prepared to assist Britain?" Fudge shifted uncomfortably in his seat, though Dumbledore seemed quite at ease at the moment. There was something Sumner was missing, though he couldn't figure out what.
"Yes, I have been authorized to offer support, though final decisions would need to be made by President Harris and General Thomas," he said, not sure about what Dumbledore was after. Woods had discussed the matter in depth with President Harris, who had received several howlers and other particularly unpleasant mail from Ministry officials around the world, upset at the cooperation with the muggle government. Proving internationally that the muggles could help would be a huge relief to MACUSA.
"That is most welcome news. You see, Hogwarts is in a bit of a situation and might benefit from extra protection," Dumbledore said. Fudge looked up at him with a flick of irritation.
"I am certain the dementors will be quite sufficient," Fudge said with a finality in his voice. Sumner almost did a double-take, not certain he heard the Minister correctly.
"Dementors, in a school?" Sumner asked skeptically, as though by force of will he could change what he heard.
"I am not the only one with reservations about it, I see." Dumbledore still looked completely at ease. "Surely, if I can secure some of this Task Force for the security of the school, dementors would be unnecessary."
"This Ministry must be doing something about the Black situation. Relying on foreign muggles simply won't do," Fudge tried to convince the room, unsuccessfully.
"What is the Black situation, and what about it could possibly make it worth putting dementors in a school?" Sumner asked, his voice laced with disapproval. His question was for information, his mind made up on the subject of dementors in a school.
"Sirius Black is an incredibly dangerous wizard that escaped Azkaban. He is after one of the students at Hogwarts," Fudge explained the situation, then continued on with his rationale. "Not to mention, the dementors will not be inside the school really. They will be patrolling outside."
"Sir, with all due respect, I don't see how you can even consider putting dementors at the school." He gave Fudge a pointed look, then turned to face Dumbledore. "I will have an infantry company and one of my best special forces teams at your school as soon as you're ready to receive them." Sumner didn't technically have the authority to promise that, but he felt confident that no one would approve of the alternative.
"I…" Fudge started, but decided the better of arguing. He struck Sumner as a bit of a people pleaser, which didn't do him any favors. "Oh alright, I'll look into it a bit."
"The year starts on the first of September," Dumbledore said, indicating his agreement to host the security force. "Minister Fudge, I should like to remind you that they will be on Hogwarts property. I do hope you won't try anything to make things difficult for them."
"Of course." Fudge said dryly. "Now if you don't mind, I have much work to do." He was probably tired of getting told what to do in his own office, Sumner thought to himself. The three men exited the room, saying their goodbyes.
"Colonel Sumner, I shall look forward to seeing you again." Dumbledore gave a polite nod to the two men, and with a twist, apparated away.
Colonel Sumner and Woods went back to the floo network in the atrium, Sumner trying to figure out how he should start the conversation that he promised firepower to a foreign power. It was the right thing to do, but he was sure that General Thomas would have a thing or two to say about it.
To Colonel Sumner's surprise, the general very quickly approved the decision to aid Hogwarts. General Thomas knew that the operation could help legitimize Task Force Ansible in the international magical community. Aside from that, the general could not think of a legitimate reason to send children to school with dementors. In less than a few hours, Colonel Sumner left the general's office with a deployment order typed up.
OPERATIONS ORDER
U.S. JOINT SPECIAL OPERATIONS COMMAND
TASK FORCE ANSIBLE
UNITS EFFECTED
Bravo Company
Reaper Team
FRIENDLY UNITS
Unknown
ENEMY UNITS
Escaped convict Sirius Black
AREA OF INTEREST
Hogwarts School, United Kingdom
DEPLOYMENT
Effective 20 August 2016 to Royal Air Force Base Lossiemouth
Deploy to site 1 September 2016
MISSION ORDER
Deploy Bravo Company and Reaper team to provide schoolwide security at Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry. Provide general security function. Harden school against possible
incursion by Sirius Black, who is known to be hunting a student, Harry James Potter. Protect
all students and staff on site.
RULES OF ENGAGEMENT
Non-Lethal weapons and tactics unless under lethal attack, or to defend the life and safety of
staff or student. Not to leave Hogwarts grounds under any circumstances.
CHAIN OF COMMAND
Colonel Marshall Sumner, not on site
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of School
Major Greg Davis, Task Force Ansible, Bravo Company
Captain Bradley Gordon
UNIT ORDERS
Bravo Company
Hogwarts Security
Reaper Team
Personal Safety of Harry James Potter
Signed,
General Thomas