"Thank you for joining us, Colonel," General Thomas said as Sumner's connection finally went through. Thomas was joined at the table by several different advisors in one respect or another, along with President Harris. The CIA spook had his own screen up. "Now that we're all here, I suggest we get started."
"Agreed," President Harris chimed in, a grim look on his face.
"Sir?" Sumner didn't allow himself to look confused. He'd received no word about what the emergency was, just a condition red message from JSOC requesting his immediate presence via video call. Ominous and without detail, much in the style of US special operations.
"At 0800 hours this morning, Minister Fudge announced to the public that Britain could not stand by and allow MACUSA and TFA to continue spreading rumors. He has ordered all TFA personnel and MACUSA diplomats off of British soil. They're cutting ties completely." It was one of the MACUSA lawyers that spoke. They had a different title for it, but he couldn't keep all of their titles straight.
"Huh," Sumner huffed. "That's not a great idea."
"From a humanitarian standpoint, I'm inclined to agree," Harris replied. "I don't see what we can do about it, though."
"I've seen the fear people have of this wizard, sir," Sumner said, leaning forward in earnest. "He was well on his way to taking over the country and they happened to catch a lucky break with Mr. Potter. And that was when the authorities were actually fighting him. If they refuse to even acknowledge his existence, these people don't stand a chance."
"It's not our fight, Colonel Sumner," the lawyer chimed in as though the matter had already been settled.
"I've got several hundred children and double that in adults that are counting on this being our fight. And some operators hoping for a chance to get him back for how he handled one of our guys." The disdain in Sumner's voice was clear and apparent. The Colonel wasn't much for politics.
"Even so, if they don't want our help...we can't force it," Harris said, looking around the table. When no one replied, he cocked his head to the side a little. "Right?"
"We could comply with the withdrawal on paper and leave our FOB in place." Thomas waited a moment before continuing, allowing the lawyer time to get his jaw back in place. He was clearly aghast at the idea of remaining in place. "Shadow wars are what we do. We can stay in place until they realize they need help, then strike with forces already in place."
"Uh, that's not at all in standing with ICW charter-" the law nerd started, he was quickly cut off by Harris.
"That's a high-risk strategy," Harris said.
"Why are we even considering it?" Lawyer-guy asked. "What are we gaining?"
"For one thing, we gain not-a-lot-of-dead-kids," Lieutenant-Colonel Garcia said and Sumner agreed, but there was more to it than that. General Thomas continued the line of thought.
"We're trying to improve muggle-magical relations and this Voldemort character is probably the single largest threat to that goal. If he takes control of a country and lays waste to the non-magical populations, no amount of goodwill from other witches and wizards will matter. People will want blood," Thomas said, looking to Harris. "This might not be the right thing according to the letter of ICW law, but if you still want MACUSA to pave the way for muggle-magical relations, this is our best bet."
"If the ICW catches wind of this-" Harris trailed off, so Thomas finished it for him.
"If the ICW catches wind of this op, than it's going to be uncomfortable, politically. But until recently, MACUSA had little to no tie to the ICW anyway. Look, my guys are good at what they do. If we want the world at large to eventually accept and embrace magical peoples, we cannot let Voldemort take control of Britain."
Harris sat there for a moment. The lawyer-guy squirmed and looked like he had more he wanted to say, but seemed to think the better of it. "Do it."
Over the course of the day, things progressed from bad to worse. He tasked two of his officers with tracking magical-media for any further developments. That foresight paid dividends early on, and all of it meant more work for him.
For the first thing, there was a lot of anti-MACUSA sentiment being whipped up by the Daily Prophet. This was joined by some fairly blatant anti-TFA, anti-Harry Potter, and anti-Dumbledore propaganda.
He'd arranged for multiple heavy-lift helicopters to make some trips to FOB Phoenix to mimic the dismantling of the base. That was when the heavy hammerblow struck. Word came from one of the few remaining security elements remaining at Hogwarts for the summer that a contingent of Aurors arrived at the school with a warrant for the arrest of Dumbledore.
The security team had to evacuate from the castle, as the Aurors were threatening to arrest or fight them. A pair of soldiers with excellent foresight stayed close enough to set up an observation post to keep an eye on the castle. They reported that the Aurors left empty-handed and looking decidedly pissed.
Less than an hour later, it was announced by the Ministry that Dumbledore actively fought Ministry Aurors and was now a fugitive from the law. He was being replaced indefinitely by a stand-in from the Ministry by the name of Dolores Umbridge. They had very little intelligence on the woman, aside from the fact that she was a Ministry official.
That dragged Sumner's plan out back and shot it. If the Ministry was going to have a lackey so close, there was no way he could maintain the present location for FOB Phoenix. Looking at the maps, he was able to find another, admittedly less convenient, location. It was north-east of Hogsmeade and much deeper in the woods.
It wasn't without its benefits. The present location, while convenient in its distance from Hogsmeade and the school, was restricted in its size. The new location actually afforded more room, at the cost of being almost double the distance from the school. There would be enough room, however, to expand the LZ to support several helicopters at once, which could help shorten deployment times if needed.
Upstairs, Burke was finalizing the purchase of a cottage just inside Hogsmeade. Sumner planned to set up a safe house, allowing an intel team to keep tabs on things. They were supposedly sending a wizard from MACUSA that could pass for a new citizen to the little community.
Outside, he heard the clattering and scrambling as his troops packed everything up. In less than forty-eight hours, he intended to have the entire FOB moved over, if not installed and functional. A tall order, but he was confident that his people could handle it.
Pain shot through Hermione's hand at the impact, a scream ripping out of her throat as the smacking sound echoed through the empty room. Even she couldn't tell if the scream, which left her throat feeling raw, had been pain or anger or frustration. Likely some combination of it all.
Regardless, she pulled the fist back, twirling around with the momentum and striking the bag again, this time with an elbow. She felt the bag give a little. Sgt. Sara Freeman had been unprepared for the second hit. Hermione was rearing for another quick strike when she noticed Sara had let go of the bag entirely, a look of concern on her face.
Hermione wanted to be frustrated at the concern, but over the last few weeks she'd learned that Sara wasn't someone who would baby her. If Sara was concerned, it meant something. She abandoned the attack, looking down at her knuckles, which were split open, a steady trickle of blood leaking down her middle finger. She frowned at it.
"Fix that," Sara said in a voice that was fifty-fifty mix of concern and exasperation. Hermione knew the drill by now and was starting to get pretty good at small healing charms, not that she'd had trouble with them in the first place. She mended the knuckles and felt herself relax a bit as the pain receded. "Like I said, punching with a fist is just going to get you hurt. Good elbow, though."
"Thanks," Hermione said, walking to the corner of the room for a drink from her bottled water. They were at her house in London for the summer. Sara had been assigned to keep an eye on Hermione, playing the role of a new close friend that needed a place to stay until school started back up. Eric was staying with Ron at The Burrow while Jason stayed with Harry. The Weasley family and Sirius all knew more about the situation, but she didn't want her parents to worry. She couldn't imagine knowing so much about magic only to have it whisked away when her parents got a sense of the danger.
They'd all been assured that Reaper Team had not been disbanded, and that Brad was expected to return to command of the team after the summer, but it didn't feel that way at all. At least not to Hermione, and she got the sense that Sara felt similar. She was the odd one out on the team, originally a place-holder for Brad and then an addition to the team after…
She forced thoughts of Mike out of her head even as her eyes started to water. She didn't think about it anymore. With habitual familiarity, she looked at the ring, running her thumb over the red center that was still thankfully there.
She'd shown the ring to Colonel Sumner before they'd left for the end of the school year. It was conclusive proof that he was still alive. The order saying that Mike was MIA/Presumed KIA had been suspended and the status was returned to MIA. And...that was it. They still didn't have even the faintest clue of where Mike could be. He could be anywhere in England. Anywhere in the world, really.
A gentle hand on her shoulder shook her from her thoughts. She felt a flood of internal rage as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. She'd let the thoughts get to her again.
"You alright?" Sara asked. Hermione couldn't tell if the concern was comforting or irritating. She wasn't alright and she wouldn't be until they'd found him. But, barring that, she was as alright as she was going to get.
"I'm good," she replied thickly, her throat tight and already hoarse from screaming at the dummy bag. She dropped to bottle to the floor and turned back to the dummy. "Let's go again."
"Or," Sara intoned, stepping in front of Hermione and blocking her path, "we could go get those foot massages you've been putting off."
Hermione chewed the inside of her lip, biting back the anger that had so quickly formed at the mere idea of going to do something so benign as a foot massage. She didn't want to go out and be around people. She didn't want to pretend everything was okay. She opened her mouth, but Sara cut her off.
"You promised." The tone was half-reminder and half-warning. "Plus, I already called and made the appointments. We have about an hour and a half." Before Hermione could make any further reply, Sara unstrapped her gloves and started taking them off. Hermione sighed, but followed suit. She supposed Sara had been patient for long enough.
It took less than an hour for them to shower and get ready for the trip. She grabbed the Oyster cards her father had purchased so that they could get around the city during the summer, and they headed out.
It was a quick trip to the Beauty Boutique, a spa that her mother had taken her to at least once a summer for a Tired Leg and Foot Massage. Hermione had mentioned it when she and Sara had first arrived. The operator had been constantly prying, trying to get Hermione to talk about what was fun around town.
Actually, she'd probably been trying to force Hermione out of her shell, but it felt the same either way. It was irritating, and what irritated her more was that she actually did feel a little better now that she was out in town. She didn't want to feel better, not with him…
She pushed it out of her head again, clamping down on the thoughts and looking out of the window. People were walking about their lives completely unaware of the magical world and its struggles. They looked pretty happy.
She felt the bus stop and Sara nudged her in the ribs. "Is this one it?" she asked, though both of them already knew it was. She seemed pretty excited for a massage, not at all how Hermione pictured a special operations badass. Everyone was human though.
Hermione nodded even as Sara stood up. They left the bus and Sara hooked an arm through Hermione's playfully, making a show of dragging her along. Despite herself, Hermione smiled and allowed herself to be led.
"Hello, how can I help you?" asked the young woman behind the counter. Sara smiled back, dragging Hermione to the counter before finally releasing her arm.
"Hi, reservations for Sara and Hermione," Sara replied. The woman nodded, looking through the computer and clicking some boxes before beckoning them to follow her.
"Right this way." Instead of walking them toward the row of chairs she'd always gone to, however, the woman led them down the hall toward the massage studio.
Sara chuckled at Hermione. Evidently the confusion had been written on her face. "Oh, I forgot to tell you," she said, "I upgraded the package."
The hours that followed were some of the most blissful that Hermione had ever experienced. She had started things off tense. She'd come prepared to endure a foot massage and not much more. She hadn't expected that she would need to almost get naked for a massage that would last almost half of the day.
Still, whatever tension she had struggled to hold onto melted away under the fingertips of Maria. She and Sara were in the same room the whole time. Occasionally a conversation sparked up between them, but for the most part it was grunts and groans of appreciation.
When Maria finally patted Hermione on the back to inform her that it was done, she wasn't quite sure whether she was grateful to move or sad that she had to. As she and Sara started getting dressed, the ring, which had been removed per instructions prior to the massage, fell from her pants pocket and to the floor.
She picked it up, staring at the red center and for a moment, finding that she couldn't take her eyes off of it. Something beside her shifted and when she glanced over, Sara was sitting there, a look of concern on her face. Hermione slipped the ring on, but couldn't stop staring at it.
"I keep telling myself I'm lucky," Hermione said, mostly succeeding in the effort to keep her voice even, "that I know he's alive. But, when I really think about it…" she trailed off, her throat finally constricting too tight for words.
She swallowed hard as Sara wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a half-hug. Hermione didn't take her eyes off the ring. She spent a lot of time trying to avoid these thoughts and she was having a hard time saying them out loud. For whatever reason, right now, being alone with these thoughts seemed worse.
"Is it lucky?" she asked, almost too faint to be heard. She sat up, doing her best to look at Sara in the eyes as her vision blurred. "He's been with them for so long, and they're so cruel…" Hermione ran a hand over her forehead, pulling the hair away from her face as emotions finally overwhelmed her and tears streaked down her cheeks.
For once, she wished she was ignorant, but with Harry being hunted by Voldemort and his followers for so long, she'd done what came naturally to her...research. She knew exactly how cruel the Death Eaters were toward muggles and thinking of him stuck there day after day threatened to tear her in two.
"Hey," Sara said, grabbing Hermione's free hand. "We're going to find him," she promised. "We'll find him and we'll make them pay. Mike is a solid operator, he'll make it through this. I know it."
Hermione bit her lip, wanting to shove the emotions back down. Once the floodgates had opened though, they weren't so easy to close, and it took her several minutes to calm back down.
"Let's go back home," Hermione said, standing up. "I want one more round with the punching bag." If Sara was only right about one thing, it was that the Death Eaters were going to pay.
Howard Eden gripped his wand as the boat pushed forward. It was rocking on unbelievably high waves and the steady, heavy rain only changed its pace when heavy wind knocked it off course for a moment. The entire plan seemed insane.
Azkaban was unplottable, not on the map at all. There were dozens of enchantments in place preventing someone from apparating in or out, so that was out of the question. Its primary connection to the outside world was a single Floo chute directly connected to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement office at the Ministry of Magic building, also not an option.
Lucius Malfoy managed to use his connections at the Ministry to wrangle a location out of some lowly DMLE employee charged with sending food and supplies to the island. It was Eden's idea to look for something like that. Malfoy was a smart enough guy, but he had planned to ask an actual DMLE Auror!
Instead, Eden had convinced him to get someone lower in the food chain, someone who would fear the tremendous trouble they would get into for sharing that information. Self preservation was a fantastic tool in the intelligence gatherers arsenal. Even better, there was a lot less chance of that guy being connected to Malfoy, especially when he turned up dead. Food Supply Joe was not going to garner the same level of investigation as an actual Auror.
Still, he hadn't realized that he would be among the assaulting force. He wasn't particularly concerned about the fact that the island was host to a swarm of dementors. If anything, he thought he might feel more comfortable around dementors than werewolves or vampires. He knew how to take them down, and a lot of the mystery was gone now that he knew where they came from.
No, it was the fact that he was sitting on a small dingy, in the middle of a storm, surrounded by massive waves. That was not something he was fond of. He thought of himself as a man who didn't shy away from a fight, but damn it he wasn't some low level peon either. His mind was the tool, not his wand.
After somewhere between a half an hour or ten hours, he wasn't certain, they finally got into some more stable water around the island and landed at a little dock near the fortress. It was dark outside and he could only make out the silhouette when lightning flashed.
The first few flashes left him marveling at the size of the fortress. The place was not small. After that, he noticed more and more dark specks in the sky that seemed to be leaking out of the sides of the castle. Dementors, undoubtedly. As the air began to chill noticeably and dread started to stir in his gut, several of the nearby Death Eaters spawned their patronus charms.
He could make out an alligator, a couple dogs, a panther or some other big cat, and one was a large lizard of some kind. He wasn't great at identifying animals. The charms formed a protective ring around the Death Eaters, who waited for the dementors to arrive.
"This seems like a stupid idea," someone commented from behind him. No one argued, but no one agreed either. This part of the plan was direct from Voldemort himself. Voldemort was certain that the dementors would sway to a better offer than that of the Ministry.
If not, Plan B was to straight up assault the prison. The dozen Death Eaters, as long as they stuck together, should be able to keep the dementors at bay. It wasn't going to be pretty, however.
A trio of Dementors stopped several dozen feet away, the tallest of them in the center. Lucius Malfoy took that cue and walked forward, outside the protective ring of Patronus charms. They were too far away and the rain was too loud and persistent for Eden to hear anything that was said.
That was the first time he ever wondered how dementors communicated. He'd never heard of one talking, but they were obviously communicating with Lucius somehow. They had also struck a deal with the Ministry, so they had to be able to.
Eden glanced up to the sky again just in time for another flash of lightning to reveal the swarm of dementors above them. There had to be at least fifty, maybe a hundred, circling above them. He felt his stomach tighten at the view. He hadn't anticipated how unnerving the sight of an army of dementors would be.
After a few more minutes, the three dementors broke away from Lucius and the man turned to them, beckoning them forward. After the next flash of lightning, just about the time they'd made it to where Lucius was standing, Eden saw that almost all of the dementors had returned to the castle.
"We have a deal," Lucius said, his attempt at a cheerful voice not quite convincing. They followed him to the main doors of the prison, running through the list of prisoners that they intended to release.