OUR CHAMPIONS, pg 3
Rita Skeeter
Now, for our final champion, and the one I just know you're all dying to learn about. Captain Bradley Gordon is the self-described hero of the Triwizard Tournament.
"He'd have died, you know. In this small way, I can pay that young man back for saving everyone from You-Know-Who. If I die in his place, it'll be a hero's death."
Quite a quote from this strapping man of war. But war isn't the only thing on his mind. According to students that are familiar with him, he is often seen hanging around one Hermione Granger, a muggle-born that fellow students describe as "about as pretty as a centaur's hindquarters."
Her beauty notwithstanding, it appears that the girl is quite popular, as she is reportedly seen not just with Harry's Hero, but with Harry Potter himself. A love triangle? Maybe.
One thing is for sure, though. The events of this tournament will be incredible, and you can count on your beloved reporter to bring you exclusive news at the greatest speed.
Saturday morning, at 0430, Brad reported to FOB Phoenix for a security briefing. It was weird, seeing Jason sitting next to Lt Knight of Phantom team. It was where he usually sat during briefings, but now he wasn't in command of Reaper any more. Not for the duration of the tournament, anyhow.
Jason looked uncomfortable still. He'd talked to Brad the night before, saying he missed Brad being in charge. By all accounts, Jason was the right man for the job. He'd done an admirable job at getting Sgt Freeman up to speed and was handling all of the command decisions exactly as he should. He just didn't enjoy it.
He'd been pleased with the performance of Sara as well. There were no available operators to pull from, so they had to pull someone from the regular ranks to fill in for him and keep the team up to strength. She'd done well in the various drills and exercises last year and had handled herself well in her encounter with Sirius Black.
Now that she was training with Jason and the team, he'd learned that she was also a very quick learner. She was a natural shooter and when it came to room clearing and other such exercises, she managed to fit right in. She was confident in herself and her abilities, and that frame of mind was important in an operator.
It didn't leave Brad missing his team any less, though. He was spending a pretty fair amount of time at the range lately, having nothing else to do. His kit had been approved, so he spent countless hours familiarizing himself with where every piece of equipment was and how it operated. Most of this gear was configured as it normally was.
His magazines were set in their pouches, stunner rounds were the easiest to access, lethal rounds took a little more effort. He'd opted to use stunner rounds to start things off. It was an incredibly dangerous tournament, but a tournament nonetheless. Lethal munitions would be a last resort. He put his grenades in their usual pouches and his combat knife on the left side of his chest for easy access if things got close.
Still, he wanted to be as fluid as possible in his movements. He drilled on changing magazines, fire and movement, solo room clearing techniques, accessing various kits and equipment, and even just keeping himself familiar on the screen layouts on his SOLDA device. When seconds mattered, he wanted to be reacting and not fumbling.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," Sumner greeted everyone as he walked into the room, holding a small folder. The room quieted down immediately and Sumner began. "I want to start this briefing with a word of good news. We've been approached by several shop owners around Hogsmeade who have expressed their thanks to TFA for providing security and business to their shops. They've never had much crime, but they've had zero break-ins since we took over and, since we are spending our R&R down there, they're enjoying a bit more profit too. Way to win hearts and minds, people."
"Yeah!" someone called out as everyone clapped.
"Now, the first event of the Tournament is this week. We are rotating platoons effective tomorrow at 0700. 3rd platoon, I want you to keep rotating two squads to the paddock in the Forbidden Forest. Teams found Karakoff, Madame Maxine and Hagrid out there trying to sneak peeks, so keep it tight-" Sumner cut himself off, noticing Brad for the first time. He beckoned Brad forward.
"Sir?" Brad said, standing up and heading to the front of the room.
"You're dismissed from this briefing and future briefings until further notified," Sumner said, formally. Brad frowned and Sumner continued. "You're a champion, now. You can't be getting an unfair advantage on the competition by attending security briefings. Dismissed."
Unfair advantage? There was nothing fair about how this was going to go down, but he understood. The last thing they needed was for TFA to be accused of bending or breaking rules. "Yes, sir." Brad saluted, turned on his heel and left the room.
He made a stop at the armory, where he checked out another several boxes of training ammunition for his HK416 and his sidearm. He'd been burning through the ammo lately, being that there wasn't much else to do but prepare.
By the time he'd checked out a Humvee and made it to the castle, people were stirring. Brad popped in to the Great Hall and saw that Harry, Ron and Hermione were already eating. He'd not been able to spend much time with them, so he took a seat.
"Hey, guys." It took Brad a moment to realize that the mood wasn't particularly great. Hermione was red in the face as she read a newspaper, Harry and Ron reading over her shoulder.
"That unbelievable hag!" Hermione exclaimed, slapping the newspaper to the table. Even Mike gave Hermione a weird look at the uncharacteristic outburst. "I can't believe she got away with printing this!"
"Lemme see," Brad said, grabbing the paper. He read Rita's article and was amazed. It was almost entirely fabrication. He'd never said any of that, and the implication that there was some kind of love triangle between Hermione, Harry and himself...it was preposterous.
Operators were, by their nature, not fond of reporters. It was born of their covert nature, as reporters did their level best to pry into things best left alone. The operators did their best to work without anyone else knowing. It was a relationship destined for conflict.
Bad reporters though, liars...those were a league unto their own. Brad was certain that no one in the task force would believe that horse-shit report and he was equally sure that none of them would appreciate a reporter taking such liberties with one of their guys. Life was gonna get uncomfortable for her quickly if she came back around there.
"Don't worry about it, nobody is gonna believe this trash," Brad assured her.
The rest of that morning at breakfast it appeared that the students of Hogwarts, especially Slytherin, and many of the Durmstrang students were hellbent on proving Brad wrong in that statement. More than once Hermione or Brad looked up to see students huddled in hushed whispers and barely audible conversation about the three of them.
"This is ridiculous," Hermione said, pushing away from the table and leaving the Great Hall. Harry, Ron, and Brad quickly followed. Brad did his level best to ignore the heads turning their way.
Out in the Entrance Hall, Reaper team was just heading inside, evidently finished with the briefing. Mike crossed the distance to the upset Hermione quickly, giving her a hug.
"Don't pay any attention to that BS," he told her. She nodded her head in agreement, but it obviously did little to assuage her.
"Sup, hero?" Jason greeted Brad, a good-natured grin on his face. Brad took the jab in stride.
"Saving lives, every day," Brad replied, rolling his eyes.
"I just can't believe you're trying to get things on with Mike's girl," Jason said, quiet enough that Mike and Hermione wouldn't hear. Brad raised an eyebrow and Jason smiled again. "Too soon, yeah."
"They unveil all of the secrets of the tournament at the briefing?" Brad asked. Being relieved of his command had been weirdly stressful. It was an interesting change of pace, not being in command and having duties pull him in several directions. He wasn't used to it, though. Now, without briefings as well, he was looking at a lot of free time.
"Enough, bro," Jason confirmed, the joy rapidly replaced with worry. That wasn't a good sign.
"That bad, huh?" Brad asked. He knew better than to expect any hints or tips. The colonel was determined that the tournament would keep its integrity. That meant he went on the same paltry supply of intel as everyone else.
"Keep your shit in gear," Jason said. It was something they said when a particularly nasty fight was coming up. Great.
"In better news," Mike spoke up loudly, his arm around Hermione as she leaned into him comfortably, "today is a Hogsmeade day. Everyone wanna go? You too, Brad?"
Everyone agreed that some time away from the school would be good, and Brad was looking forward to doing something that might get his mind of the first task, only a few days out.
They headed upstairs to the Gryffindor tower, a few hours to spare before they could head to Hogsmeade.
After a particularly vicious tournament of Wizard's Chess between Eric, Ron, Harry, and Jason, they'd headed down to the Entrance Hall, meeting everyone third year and above who had plans to visit Hogsmeade today. Reaper was doubling as the protection element for the trio along with the rest of the students for the trip to and from Hogsmeade.
Brad was surprised to see a small number of students from both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons as well among the crowd of students. Evidently, they were the adventurous sight-seers of their classes. He tried his best not to notice that Fleur was among the Beauxbatons students.
They were standing near where the trio and Reaper team had stopped and Brad could hear her talking to another one of the girls in French.
"Es-tu attiré par lui?" the girl asked, giving Brad a once over that she didn't try and hide. Fleur grabbed her friend's arm, pulling her away from Brad and the rest of them.
"Il a rejoint le tournoi pour m'impressionner, il est comme tous les autres garçons," Fleur replied. She started to turn back and look at him as she spoke, but caught herself. Her friend rolled her eyes in an exaggerated display.
Not for the first time, Brad wished he could speak French. He was certain they were talking about him, but had no idea what they were saying. It left him at a disadvantage.
"Good morning, everyone," Professor McGonagall said, apparently having made it to the front of the Entrance Hall. "If you will all follow me, we will start the walk to Hogsmeade." The crowd began its walk.
Some of the students, mostly third years that were going for the first time, leapt ahead full of energy. Most were content with a leisurely pace. Brad hung back a little, happy to just be walking among a crowd of people that were all interested in their own business.
He was dressed in denim jeans and a white and black flannel shirt, a tan jacket zipped up over the top of it. Another perk of not being perpetually "on duty" meant he wasn't required to be in uniform all the time. Brad was very comfortable in his multi-cams, but damn were jeans nice every now and then.
Brad supposed another perk of wearing this attire was that he actually blended in with the rest of the students pretty well. He wasn't sure if it was his outfit or the fact that these students were eager to get their adventure in Hogsmeade started, but hardly anyone looked at him, let alone made comments about the morning's newspaper.
Fleur and her friend were walking behind Brad for a brief time. It seemed, after a short while, that they were again succumbing to the cold, and they darted ahead of him. Her friend, a brunette with dark eyes, smiled at him as they passed. He tried to smile back, but she'd already turned around.
Ahead of him, Mike and Hermione held hands the whole way down, pushing at each other and laughing. Eric and Ron talked chess strategy, their match in the mini-tournament earlier having been a close one. Eric won, but only just.
As they made it to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, Brad couldn't help but admire the static defenses positioned in the woods on either side of the road. He knew exactly where to look and still found it challenging to spot them.
Using small, camouflaged defensive positions that were manned at all times, TFA could monitor traffic on the road into and out of town. If for some reason, someone were to try and attack Hogsmeade from the road, those two fighting positions would the first line of defense. He doubted if anyone else in their group would even notice the two positions and was content to keep it that way.
Mike and Hermione went to a small tea shop while Harry, Ron, Eric and Jason headed to the Three Broomsticks for drinks. Brad had fond memories of Butterbeer and was looking forward to another, but he wasn't quite done milling about by himself yet. After agreeing to head there after his walk, he set off.
He wasn't going anywhere in particular, just enjoying the sights. The students from Durmstrang were packing themselves into Zonkos and appeared excited at the prank items in particular. Fleur and her friend were at Hogsmeade station, looking at the train tracks and various landscape pictures posted of the countryside that were hanging from the walls.
Brad found himself migrating her way when he felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned and, to his dismay, saw none other than Rita Skeeter. She was without the cameraman this time. She chewed the tip of her quill with a wicked smile on her face.
"I don't suppose you're free for an exclusive?" Rita asked. Brad opened his mouth to respond, but was cut short by a furious, heavily accented shout from behind him.
"Go away, you 'orrible woman!" Fleur was shouting. Her face was red and she was waving her hands at the reporter as though to shoo her away. Her friend didn't look too happy either. Evidently, the piece on Fleur wasn't flattering either and Brad made a mental note to read it. "Leave an' print your lies somewhere else!"
Brad felt a swelling of pride at how fast the TFA security elements closed in on them. Fleur hadn't finished shouting, and three separate two-man teams were on them. Brad recognized Lieutenant Miles, the leader of 2nd platoon.
"Miss Rita Skeeter," Lieutenant Miles greeted her cheerfully. As Rita turned to face him, her face flushed by the recent accusations, the two soldiers behind her grabbed her wrists and elbows, forcing her arms behind her back. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to detain you for disturbing the peace. And Colonel Sumner would like a word as well."
"What are you-?" She attempted to free one of her arms, which earned her an arm painfully twisted further behind her back. She didn't try to fight them after that as they placed her wrists in flex cuffs. Miles ordered a Humvee to their location and within five minutes Rita Skeeter and Lieutenant Miles were driving down the road to Hogsmeade Outpost.
The outpost was really a recently unoccupied house that Colonel Sumner had purchased for use by TFA. As close as the FOB was to Hogsmeade, it was still necessary to have some kind of meeting and staging area in Hogsmeade itself. One of the bedrooms had been converted into a meeting room, another into a communications suite. Everything else, including the other two bedrooms, pretty much looked like a normal house.
Brad turned to see how Fleur was doing, she'd looked pretty heated. She'd disappeared, however. After looking around for a minute, he decided he was done mulling about town and headed to the Three Broomsticks.
"Miss Skeeter," Colonel Sumner greeted the reporter. She was sitting at the kitchen table and Sumner had just sat down on the opposite side. She was looking forward to putting the Colonel in his place. She'd never been so humiliated, being arrested in public for disturbing the peace after that French ditz did all the screaming!
"You have no idea-" she started, grinning wickedly at the Colonel with the satisfaction that an article by her could ruin him. He cut her off, however.
"Close your damn mouth for a moment!" Sumner said sharply, staring her in the eyes in a way that unnerved her. She was used to people tiptoeing around her. She had a massive following through the Daily Prophet and she'd ruined more than one career when someone crossed her. Still, he looked supremely confident that he held all the cards.
"I don't take threats to my command lightly, you understand?" Sumner asked, not breaking eye contact. He waited for a moment and she responded with a nod. "I know for a fact that what you wrote about Captain Gordon, and about most of the other champions...that was fabricated. Untrue, plain and simple. That means you're either stupid and bad at your job, or lying to get more readers."
"Now, just a mo-" Rita began to protest, but she was immediately shut down as Sumner continued talking and raised his voice.
"EITHER WAY," he said sharply, then lowering his voice again when she closed her mouth, "I find myself at the same conclusion. You're trying to stir up trouble where there isn't any and I won't allow that."
"You can't stop the press," Rita said, forcing a confident smile.
"You're right in that. What I can do, is restrict your access." Sumner didn't smile, didn't wink or give any outward sign that he was enjoying this. She could feel it though. He liked wielding this power over her, the smug son-of-a-bitch. "Before you will be allowed on Hogwarts grounds, you will check in with the front gate. You will be assigned a liaison for any visit to the Hogwarts grounds and you will not go anywhere without them. If you violate these rules, you will be treated as a trespasser and that is what will be reported to the Daily Prophet. Are we clear?"
"Well, I-" Rita started, but Sumner was giving her absolutely no room to maneuver in the conversation.
"You either understand or you do not," Sumner said forcefully. Rita nodded her head in agreement. "Wonderful. Miss Skeeter, you are free to go. Sergeant, please escort her to the front door." One of the soldiers grabbed Rita by the upper arm and lead her out of the house.
When the door slammed shut behind her, she stood up straight and straightened her glasses, smoothing out her skirt. That smug muggle was going to pay and she knew just how to do it.
Harry looked at his watch. It was approaching ten o'clock at night, the time he was supposed to meet Hagrid. The half-giant had, much to Harry's surprise, managed to be quite sneaky in getting a note to Harry under the noses of Reaper team.
Meet me at the cabin, ten o'clock, and bring yer cloak
Harry wasn't sure what it was about, but Hagrid had been pretty bold to get the note to him and that concerned Harry. Hagrid had never been a stickler for the rules, unless of course Dumbledore had set them. Ten o'clock was past curfew and Hagrid was aware of that. It made Harry wonder again.
He sat up in bed, looking around the room. Everyone else was asleep. He slid silently out of bed and padded over to his trunk, where the invisibility cloak was kept. He reached in to pull it out and almost jumped out of his skin when a hand grabbed his shoulder.
"You don't need to use that," Jason said, closing the trunk with the cloak still inside. "If you're cold, there are extra blankets." Jason looked Harry in the eye and knew immediately that he was trying to sneak out. He was just giving Harry an out.
"Oh, right," Harry said, stumbling a bit as he stood up. Jason steadied him and lead him back to his bed. Harry sat, feeling heavy. It didn't look like he was going to make that meeting with Hagrid after all. Jason got him an extra blanket, even though it was reasonably warm in the Boys' Dormitory.
"Here you go," Jason said, setting it on the end of the bed. "And don't worry about anyone getting to ya, one of us will be up at any given point during the night." So, Jason was keeping someone from Reaper team awake to keep watch. That meant he wasn't getting out.
At FOB Phoenix, Colonel Sumner sat behind his desk heavily. He was tired. It was rapidly approaching midnight and he still had a lot to do.
Fucking dragons! What in the flying fuck were they thinking? He was in his forties and he had no desire to go toe to toe with a dragon. He couldn't fathom pitting seventeen-year-olds against one.
He'd had to devote two squads at any given time to patrolling that section of the Forbidden Forest, paranoid about some enterprising student wandering into the paddock and being burned to a crisp. Sure, Charley Weasley and a handful of other dragon keepers were present, but they were having a hell of a time keeping the dragons under control.
It was just as well that he had people patrolling the forest. More than once, they'd caught Karkaroff trying to sneak a look. They'd caught Madame Maxine trying as well. It was better for the integrity of the tournament if they were all on even footing.
Still, Sumner was pained not giving his man intel on the dragons. He was not accustomed to having his men fight on even terms. A special operations force, by nature, fought against steep odds. It was almost always an outnumbered force in unfamiliar terrain fighting as quietly as possible. In order to increase the odds of survival, they had the best training and equipment available and they often operated with as much intelligence as possible on their targets. Weapons, numbers, training, behaviors and habits, anything that could give his fighters the edge.
He'd sworn to Dumbledore to uphold the integrity of the tournament and he intended to do so, but it went against everything he'd been trained to do.
Sumner set the stack of papers he was reviewing on his desk, taking a sip of his coffee. He wasn't sure why, but at that moment, he decided to look over at his filing cabinet and saw a small bug of some kind bouncing off of the keyhole, as though trying to get through it.
Sometimes, he hated nature. The last thing he needed was a keyhole full of bug guts in his Top Secret filing cabinet.
Glancing around his desk, he found the copy of the Daily Prophet that he'd read earlier that morning. He glanced at the cover one more time, fuming at that slanderous reporter. He rolled up the newspaper, crept to the filing cabinet and whack! He glanced at the newspaper, confirming the kill, and then tossed it in the trash.