AN - Just a quick reminder that this is an AU story, and a heads up that I did change a few things. Enjoy!
Brad did his best to adjust his legs, which were starting to tingle again. It wasn't an easy endeavor on the bench seat of an MH-6, especially one stacked with three people. At least he had experience with long flights like this, poor Neville was probably having a rough time...not that he'd let it show.
Something had changed in Neville recently, Brad decided. The boy looked determined, dangerous even. Not to them, but he no longer looked like a boy controlled by his fears. That was a good thing; no one deserved to live stuck beneath their own fears.
They'd done what they could to get him more comfortable for the flight. He was wearing a British jumpsuit that had been set aside at RAF Leeming. Colonel Sumner had called ahead and arranged a rapid refueling of the Little Birds, though rapid had been a bit of a subjective term. It did give time for Neville to change into something that blocked the wind a little better, though.
Brad felt his wrist vibrate and looked down at his SOLDA device. He had a message from Colonel Sumner.
Captain,
Good work securing your objectives and staying focused on the mission. I understand the anxiety you must feel. Know that she has been moved to Hogsmeade and has been seen by our medics, as well as the schools. She is stable and her parents have been notified. They are likely to arrive shortly. Godspeed,
Sumner
It took Brad several attempts to read through it all as the wind whipped at him. When he finally did get through it, a weight lifted from his chest. If she was stable, the rest could wait. She wasn't in danger anymore.
He glanced down at the city zipping past beneath them. They were over London now, lights stretching in every direction. Highways, roads, cars, billboards, and everything else that knitted together to form civilization. It was a beautiful sight.
"Approaching the target," his pilot said, a reminder that he wasn't here for sightseeing. Their helicopters were flying dark, no light at all, and they were using clearance codes that Sumner had obtained from UKSF.
He checked his rifle, making sure that it was loaded with a stunning magazine. They weren't carrying any lethal ammunition aside from their sidearms, but it didn't hurt to be sure. His experience in the Triwizard Tournament had left him a bit paranoid.
The entrance to the Ministry of Magic was inconveniently located in Whitehall, the heart of the British government. Their LZ, the closest rooftop to the target that was big enough to land on and that didn't leave them walking around civilians for several blocks, was the Department for International Trade...a government building.
There would certainly be security all over the place, and they weren't precisely authorized for a special operations raid in the middle of London. Sumner told him that a Commander at UKSF, the only individual that was in on the magical secret, was planning to spin this as a planned probe of their government security in the area. The insert was sure to be noisy and attract attention, so they would say that the assault team aborted, unable to find a weakness.
Still, that would only work if they didn't get caught. If they did, it would mean answering a lot of uncomfortable questions for a lot of people.
He knew that General Thomas had tried, several times, to get MACUSA to bring the British fully into the fold on the TFA program. Britain was one of our primary partners, after all. MACUSA steadfastly refused on the grounds that the British Ministry needed to play a significant role and it wasn't in any position to do so. In fact, with Voldemort around, attempts to do so would likely cause major problems, both in the Ministry and the muggle government.
So, they had to land the team on a government building, haul ass downstairs and across the street to an alley, where a phone booth would take them inside the Ministry. If they ran across security, which would likely be armed since this was the seat of national power, it was a safe bet that they'd shoot first and ask questions later. Brad wanted to avoid confrontation if possible, but they had the ability to stun if they met resistance...best they could do on short notice.
"Thirty seconds." The helicopter dipped down and Brad shifted his weight again. The last thing he needed was for his ass to cramp as they rushed downstairs.
At that same moment, several city blocks around them blacked out. The only light around was now produced by the headlights of the few cars still out and about at three in the morning. With their helicopters blacked out, no lights nearby, and the security cameras off, they were giving themselves the best chance possible at slipping by unseen.
Down the road, backup lights kicked on, flooding the street a block away with light. Brad could make out figures running in the streets. It was likely that between the sound of helicopters and the power outage, they were shitting a collective brick.
"Go, go, go."
Phantom's helicopter touched down, remaining in place for barely a second. All four operators slid off the bench seats and were checking for targets before it had a chance to lift off. As soon as it cleared, their helicopter swooped in.
Brad felt the soft jolt of their helicopter as it tapped the rooftop. He unbuckled and slid off the bench, pleased to see Neville right beside him, keeping pace.
His helicopter didn't loiter either. It immediately lifted away, following the first out of the area. The less time they spent nearby, the better chance they wouldn't be identified. They were also low on fuel again, so both would be headed to a nearby RAF airbase to refuel.
Both teams readied themselves beside the rooftop access door as Neville pointed his wand at it. "Alohomora!" she shouted. The door clicked open at the same time as Lt. Knight gave him a light smack to the back of the head and put a finger to his mouth.
All of them had been there, in the heat of the moment with adrenaline rushing through their veins. It was easy to get carried away and shout, but noise discipline was going to be critical if they wanted to remain undetected. The helicopters were already going to have drawn attention, they didn't need to add to that.
Brad rushed down the steps with Reaper close in tow. Phantom took the rear with Neville in the middle. Without the constant thrum of helicopter rotors, Brad's ears felt empty. Even the soft sound of boots against the metal stairs didn't fill that void.
At the bottom of the stairs they found another door. Brad quietly pushed it open, revealing an expansive office, as dark as everything else around since the power had gone out. That was how they preferred it, as no one had better night vision equipment. The only light came from an EXIT sign posted above a door to the right of the elevator bank, which lay directly across from them.
The majority of the floor was dominated by a veritable city of cubicles, orderly only in their placement. Each individual pod had different computer setups, chairs, and even differing levels of cleanliness. Brad had a hard time imagining coming to work here.
To their left was a long wall, the single occupant offices, probably reserved for important department heads or something.
They breached, fanning out and everyone taking a different firing lane, quiet and efficient. Two of the Phantom operators took the closed offices while the rest of them checked pods. The room was clear, thankfully.
mp-ump-hump-thump, the sound of feet slapping stairs echoed from the exit door at the other end of the floor. Everyone ducked down, Brad dragging Neville with him, just as the door burst open. Someone entered, panting. A bright flashlight swept across the top of the cubicles, but all of the operators were already down.
Brad saw both of the Phantom guys, ducking low, crawl into cubicles to hide. If they could get through this without shooting anyone friendly, that would be ideal. He pushed Neville, following him into the nearest cubicle as the sound of panting came closer.
"-status?" someone crackled audibly over the runners radio, evidently a handheld.
"Christ," he muttered, keying up the radio. "I've only just got up here. Gimme a sec to get to the roof!" he walked past Brad's cubicle, his bright beam bouncing off the door. "Fuckin' impatient." he mumbled, fumbling with the keys as his radio squawked something inaudible to them.
"Tell 'em to pound sand!" the security guard shouted into the radio as he got the key in the lock and opened the door. "We don't need fuckin' commando's searching the building, I think I'd have noticed something if paratroopers were storming the place!"
The rest of his shouted diatribe was muffled as the door closed the rest of the way. No one needed a better invitation. They raised up out of the cubicles and quickly made for the stairs.
Lt. Knight opened the door and held it with a boot, his rifle trained at the rooftop access door. Brad moved to the front of the stack and headed down the stairs. There were a lot of stairs and they moved down them quickly, trying to get to the bottom before the building security guard got back.
Five stories later, they made it to the bottom floor. Brad opened the door just in time to hear an echoing shout from upstairs, the guard evidently still arguing over the radio. They pushed out and into a dark, narrow hall, lined by offices and doors. Fortunately, the nearest of the doors was labeled with a glowing EXIT sign as well.
Brad opened it and felt the cool night air once again. They wasted no time, the entire team filing out and getting the door shut quickly.
The night around them was dark and quiet, aside from the sound of arguing from down the road to the left, toward the other end of the building. Brad looked around for a street sign and was surprised to see it posted on the wall of the building, rather than it's own post. Great Scotland Yard.
Neville pointed across the street with a big grin. There was an alleyway of sorts. "The phone is in there," he whispered. Brad was glad he had the presence of mind not to shout again.
Phantom led the way this time, Neville up at the front with Lt. Knight, while Brad took the rear, looking for any sign that they'd been detected. They made it all the way into the alley without incident, and found themselves staring at a picture perfect, fire engine red, phone booth.
"You'll have to pick up the phone and dial magic...um, 62442…that'll get you in." Without waiting for invitation, Neville stepped into the booth and began typing.
"Neville!" Brad whispered harshly, but it was too late. Without a sound, Neville disappeared and the phone gently floated back to the receiver.
"Guess he's going first," Lt. Knight grunted, stepping into the phone booth. He typed the numbers, and he too disappeared. They repeated that process until Brad found himself alone, staring at the booth. Freakin' magic.
Grabbing the phone he dialed. 62442-
He was standing inside a fireplace, surrounded by green flames. They were warm and familiar, but also surprising, and he jumped forward to get out. His night optics disabled, overwhelmed by their proximity to the bright flames, in an attempt to keep from blinding him.
It was partly successful. He snapped the goggles up on his helmet and everything had a dim haze as he blinked his eyes to adjust. The operators around him were also rubbing their eyes, with the exception of Lt. Knight and Sgt. Cody, the two that had entered right after Neville.
Those two had moved forward, one to either side of the long hall ahead of them. They took up defensive positions along the columned walls, ready for any response by the Ministry of Magic.
The hall around them was large and long, the walls and floors made of a beautifully polished dark wood. Torches hung evenly from the walls, distributing a dim but sufficient light. The walls were inset with gold in various ways, from small statues and sculptures to intricate designs. Fireplaces were also evenly placed along the hall, giving the operators cover and concealment for their approach.
Their objective lay down at the end of the hall, past what Neville had undersold as a "big fountain." To call it big almost seemed insulting...the thing was enormous. He could make out the majority of a horse and several other creatures, before he focused on his lane of fire, that is.
"Moving up," Lt. Knight whispered, his voice coming through the headset. At once, all four operators from Phantom stepped away from the outsides of their fireplaces, moving up past several more before again resuming cover.
"Bounding," Brad said as soon as they were in place. He beckoned Neville to follow, and then moved several fireplaces past Phantom before ducking behind another fireplace to take cover. "You're good, go."
They only repeated the process a handful of times before regrouping at the last of the fireplaces, the entire element hugging the left side of the hall. Directly ahead of them was the giant fountain, its figures much clearer. The ceiling in this chamber stretched up past what he could see from behind the fireplace.
From the fountain, the hall cut diagonally to the left. According to Neville, this is where the Golden Gates were, along with the Ministry security checkpoint, and the elevators were beyond that. This would be their first point of contact.
Brad didn't envy Phantom. When they threw this plan together to go get Harry, it hadn't really registered how massive the Ministry building was. Phantom had to keep the Floo fireplaces secure and there had to be fifty or sixty of the things. It was going to get ugly quick if they were discovered.
"Knight," Brad murmured low, signaling to the leader of Phantom team. Being the overall commander of the operation, Brad was in charge of the tactics. "Your team is taking the far side of the fountain. I want two to hug the fountain and two to hit the wall, then we all collapse in toward the gate. Eric, Sara, you're taking the fountain on our end. Everyone good?"
They nodded and shouldered their rifles. Neville would be staying back, watching for the all clear signal. Brad had made it clear to Neville that he was there to act as a guide and get them to Harry, he was not there to fight.
Brad moved to the edge of the wall, a foot or so away from it, and began creeping out until he had a decent line of fire. Jason did the same, crouching low so that the two of them could put fire down range simultaneously. "Go!" he ordered.
The six operators sprinted for the fountain. Eric and Sara stopped as they reached it, turning their weapons on the gate. Phantom disappeared around the other side. Brad waited a moment, giving them time to get into a better position. "Move up."
As one, the operators pushed forward to the gate. Almost immediately, his heart skipped a beat. The Golden Gates were just that, intricate golden gates that stretched up to the ceiling. A security booth was present on this side of the gate. The door to the security booth was open, and a pair of bodies lay outside it.
They quietly approached. By unspoken agreement, the operators that were moving from the fountain went directly to the bodies, while the others cleared the rest of the elevator room. Brad and Jason walked past the bodies and through the gate, willing themselves not to even glance down at the bodies.
The room beyond those gates was large and circular, the roof not nearly as high as that of the fountain room. Elevators were spaced evenly, wrapping from one end of the gate to the other, and the middle of the large room was dominated by a cafe and its tables. Jason ripped the door open and checked inside, clearing the last potential hiding spot.
"All clear," Jason said.
"What's the status on those bodies?" Brad asked, nodding to Jason as he stepped out, his rifle hanging more comfortably in front of him.
"Both are uniformed security, both dead." Knight said, confirming what Brad suspected.
"Copy. Phantom, get yourselves into a defensible position. Reaper, let's get the bodies moved to the security booth and get on the move."
While Reaper team moved the bodies, clearing the walkway and providing some modicum of respect for the dead, Phantom got set up.
Knight sent one of his guys to the fountain to keep an eye on the Floo. The others grabbed tables and chairs, overturning them to create a makeshift defensive position at the gate. It was more likely that a response would come from the elevators, after all.
"Good luck," Brad bumped gloved fists with Knight once they were done.
"You too."
Neville opened an elevator for them and they stepped in, giving Phantom one last look before continuing. When the doors closed, the elevator jumped back and then rocketed down. All five of them grabbed the nearest wall to brace themselves, just in time for the sudden stop. The elevator jumped forward and halted with a ding.
The doors opened to reveal a long, dark hallway, lit by faint blue torches. The walls and floors were all black tile. All four operators raised their rifles, exiting the elevators and dropping their NVGs over their eyes.
"This look like the spot?" Brad asked Neville, who'd heard about the dream in much more detail from Harry. Neville gulped and nodded, so Brad moved forward.
With his optics down, he could see through the hall better...sort of. The polished tile was reflecting torchlight in a way that caused the floors and walls to appear like they were flowing. The tactical advantage of his sights outweighed disorientation, but it still made him queasy.
They were moving quicker down this hall then they did at the atrium, without the controlled bounding. The hall was long and plain, and without any cover, bounding would do less good. Better to get through this funnel as quickly as possible.
When they did reach the end of the hall, they were deposited into a large, circular room. Here, there was no tile, just shining black floors, walls, and ceilings that looked as though they'd been carved out of one solid...stone? Maybe ice? It was hard to tell with the reflectiveness. A dozen doors were placed in uneven intervals around the room.
"God love you, Hermione," Brad muttered, looking at the doors and trying not to pay attention to the way the floors shimmered in his night vision. The doors were all without handles, and would have been identical were it not for the markings on a few.
Three had a glowing red X imprinted in the middle, and one had a lightning bolt. It didn't take much effort to guess which way they needed to go. Brad tried to push on the door, but it didn't budge. He pushed harder, trying either side of the door, to no avail.
He felt around the edges for a triggering mechanism of some sort as Jason began pushing from beside him, straining with the effort. They worked like this for a few moments until Neville walked over. When he gave the door a tentative push, it opened right up.
"That's some bullshit," Jason muttered.
The room beyond the door was bright and all four operators again lifted their night optics. Bright, white lights danced around the large room, filled with every kind of clock Brad had ever seen, along with many dozens more that he hadn't.
"This is the way!" Neville exclaimed excitedly, evidently recognizing the place.
Brad had to reign him back in, taking the point and walking through the room toward a door on the other side. It was disconcerting, knowing that someone could really dream about a place they'd never been with such accuracy.
As they reached the end of the clock room, a deep whump sounded from the other side of the door, followed by exploding glass. All four operators shouldered their rifles, and Brad felt the painful spike of adrenaline rush through him.
"Breach!" Brad called out. Jason threw the door open, revealing a massive, dark room. Row after row of towering shelves filled the room, each shelf containing several hundred glass orbs.
Brad immediately pushed in, his rifle raised. He was greeted by a streak of green light, which flashed by his head. He ducked, trying to discern where the fire had come from. Ahead, deeper into the room, several red and green flashes pulsed.
"Let's move!" Brad ordered, hearing the bootsteps of his team right behind him. Glass exploded as spells missed their targets, hitting shelves of orbs. The glass that showered down from those explosions, evidently being pulverized into a fine dust, created something akin to a fog. It dampened the colorful light they were approaching and made it difficult to tell who was friend or foe.
"We've got to get out of here!" he heard Hermione shout, off to the left. He shifted his rifle to the right, to a dust covered lane between shelves where a pair of green lights were streaking away.
He thumbed his rifle to automatic and fired a long burst down the lane, tracking from one side to the other. It was satisfying, hearing the audible pop-pop-pop of the glass balls exploding. Some of the rounds must have met their mark, because the spellfire from that hall stopped.
"Friendly, coming up!" Brad shouted, ducking between shelves to where he thought he'd heard Hermione. Behind him, he heard Jason let out a long stream of gunfire and curses.
"Rgaaaaaaah!" A frustrated screech rang out, and all at once, the room went quiet. No spells were being fired, and no orbs exploding, the dusted glass settled to the ground. Brad found Harry and a half-dozen others on the other side of the shelf and crossed over to meet them, his team taking up defensive positions.
Neville greeted some of the others as Harry crossed over to Brad, looking grim. His eyes were darting around, the same as Brad. Neither of them thought the Death Eaters had just left.
"Glad you're still alive," Brad said by way of greeting. He looked around at the others. They looked scared, determined...older than they really were. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the same frustrated, female voice from moments before.
"You can't get out," she thundered, her voice echoing. "We outnumber you, we're better than you, smarter." She laughed, an almost hysterical glee in her voice. "We don't rely on little muggles and children to fight for us."
"Contact rear," Jason shouted, drawing Brad's attention. Sure enough, black, smoky silhouettes were forming in the halls, back the way they'd come. There goes their easy retreat.
Between the dark lighting and the shitty lines of sight, it was hard to get a decent count. There were a lot of them, though.
"We just want the prophecy," a familiar voice called to them from their left. Brad looked and saw Malfoy's father standing just close enough to be recognizable, his wand in hand but not quite pointed at them. "Give it to us, and you may leave unharmed."
"They're surrounding us, boss," Sara murmured, gesturing to their right where more silhouettes were visible in the dark. The DA members backed up toward Jason, who was covering the hall back the way they'd come. Brad shouldered his rifle toward Mr. Malfoy at low ready, not quite aiming it.
They were outnumbered and this lull in combat wasn't going to last. He needed to figure out where to go from here. They couldn't assault past so many of them, not directly, but-
"Here!" Harry shouted. He produced a glass orb, one Brad hadn't noticed before. He threw it toward Malfoy, who jumped forward to catch it. "Run!"
It brushed Malfoy's fingertips, fell to the ground, and exploded. Eric, who'd been covering the area deeper into the room, sprinted down the hall in the only direction they hadn't seen Death Eaters. The DA members followed his lead as Jason started rapidly firing, shifting targets between shots to keep everyone back.
Malfoy snarled at Harry and Brad. Brad shouldered his rifle, firing several rounds, which struck a cloud of black smoke where Malfoy had been. It was time to get the hell out of there, the place was a defensive nightmare.
"Let's move!" Brad ordered, pushing Harry after the others. He tapped Jason, who collapsed back, and did the same for Sara. Eric could take point and look for an exit while they covered the retreat. Brad shouldered his rifle again, firing bursts at approaching Death Eaters as he quickly started walking backward. There were too many of them, firing too many spells, for him to stay put.
He had to duck to dodge a pair of incoming spells, and then dive behind one of the shelves of glass balls to dodge another.
"We've got you covered, MOVE!" Jason shouted. It felt like suicide to go back into that hall, but he did it without hesitating. He knew Jason would keep him covered. He heard the rapid snaps of suppressed rifle fire as he sprinted down the hall toward the others.
"I've got an exit!" Eric's voice crackled over the radio. Brad ran past Jason and Sara, changing his magazine as he went. He watched the DA members, a dozen shelves ahead of them, ducking together through the shelves on the right.
A new magazine in his rifle, he spun and readied himself to fire. "Move!" he ordered. Jason and Sara bolted back, not hesitating. A dozen flashes of light, ranging from green, to red, to purple, all flashed down the hall after them, blasting glass orbs from the shelves. "Eric, guide us in!"
He heard rifle fire from behind him as Jason and Sara passed. Eric had probably taken up a spot in the hall to do just that. A smoky figure darted up the hall at them and Brad fired a burst into it, managing to catch it when it was more solid than not. Out of the smoke, a black robed figure appeared, crumpling to the ground and smacking their head on a shelf.
A pink jet of light erupted from the shadows to his right and caught him across the front of his thigh. He gritted his teeth at the searing pain, trying to ignore it as he swapped magazines. He was surprised to feel his pants sticking to his leg and wetness on his knee.
He fired a long burst at the source, who ducked behind a shelf.
"You're clear, move!" Eric shouted.
Brad turned and ran, struggling to get his right leg to cooperate. He glanced down to see a neat slice through the front of his thigh, blood sliding down the front of his pants. It wasn't spurting and there wasn't time for a tourniquet, so he kept moving, albeit slower than he'd prefer.
As he got closer to Eric, who was trying to direct his fire in several directions at once, Jason ran out. He grabbed Brad by the loop on the back of his vest and yanked him forward off of his feet, dragging him the rest of the way toward the door.
Eric collapsed in behind them, firing as he went. Brad was shoved through the door and plunged into instant darkness. He was surprised by sudden weightlessness. It felt like he was underwater, only he could breathe just fine.
It wasn't until he looked around and saw the unmistakable shape of Saturn on his left that he understood. He was floating...in some miniature version of the solar system. Looking around, he could see the others. They were all going the same general direction, toward an open door on the other end of the room.
Between them, he could see Earth and the Moon. Jupiter was off to the right, easily the largest of the planets in the room. Oddly, the sun wasn't present, though the planets were arranged like they should be orbiting something.
As he rotated, continuing to move the same way as when he'd been thrown into the room, he saw Jason and Eric floating in behind him. Both were doing their best to keep an eye on the door they'd just jumped through.
Several flashes erupted from the muzzle of Eric's rifle. It wasn't until then that Brad realized that he wasn't hearing any sound. He did, however, feel muffled shockwaves of rifle fire smacking against him.
A red streak of light flashed past Jason by a margin of inches, and he responded by sending his own silent stream of gunfire through the doorway. Brad saw the spell strike Jupiter. The pseudo planet swallowed it, ejecting a small cloud of material back out into the room.
Brad's back hit the wall and he looked over in time to see Sara reaching out. He grabbed her hand and she pulled him through the open doorway, where he dropped to the ground, gravity suddenly normal again.
"-okay?" she asked, as sound returned to him suddenly. Hermione took over, looking at his leg as Sara fired through the open door at an enterprising Death Eater who had just jumped into the...planetarium?
Brad pulled out his IFAK, planning to either put on a pressure dressing or tourniquet, depending on how deep the wound was, but was again reminded about how useful magic was.
"Episkey," Hermione murmured, her wand directed over the slash in his leg. A pressure dressing would have been fine, at first glance. Instead, the pain in his leg dulled and the wound went from an open gash to a vague, pink line. "Hmm, you'll probably-" she started, but Brad waved her off, standing up.
"It'll do, thanks."
Jason and Eric were pulled in by Neville while Sara directed several more shots at the open door across the room. The Death Eaters were sending spells at them more frequently, but their accuracy was awful at this distance. Sara had a distinct advantage with her ACOG sight and her accurate fire was keeping them pinned down.
It gave Brad a chance to get a look at his surroundings. Hermione, who was doing the same, smiled at the big tank of green fluid in the center of the room, filled with some weird fish or something.
"We're back in the Brain room," she said, "we can get to the entrance from here-" she looked around, seeing a few identical doors.
"Shit!" Sara exclaimed, ducking. A purple jet of light rocketed down the hall past them, bouncing off the glass tank and starting a small fire on a nearby desk, which someone patted out. "They're pouring in now, we've gotta move."
Sara fired a few more shots and retreated further into the hall. She was right. There were probably a few dozen Death Eaters now floating toward them. A few more spells passed though the hall, increasing the sense of urgency.
"Ehrm," Hermione glanced between the doors, not sure which way to go.
"This one," Harry pointed at the one to their right and started walking. Hermione glanced worriedly at the other, and then followed the group.
Brad jogged ahead, signaling for Harry to stop. "Jason and I will go first, then you guys, followed by Sara and Eric." He looked to Jason, who nodded that he was ready.
Jason kicked in the door and Brad burst through. Jason was close in tow, the two of them scanning for threats in the chamber beyond.
They were on an elevated platform that ran wall to wall on either side of them, descending in step-like fashion down to a ground floor dominated by a large, ancient looking...archway? It looked like someone had taken an ancient doorway and set it in the middle of an arena. In fact, the steps looked wide enough to double as seating.
"Oh, not here again!" Hermione exclaimed as the group ran through, being herded by Sara.
"They're right on our ass," she informed Brad.
"Look!" Hermione shouted, pointing across the room. "That's got to be the way out! It's the only other door."
She was right, of course. Brad could see that on the other side of the archway, there was a set of steps, or seats, that led up to an elevated platform like theirs, with a single door. He couldn't see any other way in or out.
"Let's go," Brad ushered them on, taking one last look through the brain room before shutting the door. He wished he'd thought to bring some claymores or something. A hundred steel balls ripping through a few Death Eaters would probably slow their enthusiastic chase by quite a bit.
They'd made it to the bottom floor when the door they were running toward burst open. Several columns of black smoke burst through, striking the ground atop the platform on either side of the door. Death Eaters began firing spells down at them.
All four operators dropped to their knees, opening fire on the newcomers. Brad watched in satisfaction as a masked figure slumped to the ground in his targeting reticle. He shifted fire to the next target, the Death Eaters panicking under the withering fire.
They were bullies, used to showing up in force and having their prey cower before them. It was a whole new game when the enemy savagely fought back.
"Behind us!" Eric cried out, turning his rifle back and firing the way they'd come. Their pursuers had caught up.
Sandwiched between hostile forces on the high ground and with very little cover, the operators did what they could to negate the enemy advantage. Sara too shifted her fire to the pursuers as the DA members started to fire off spells, the dark amphitheater flashing in bright, colorful streaks.
Death Eaters dove to the sides, ran down the steps at them, and some disappeared into columns of smoke that shifted around the room, all trying to escape the volleys of fire. Many succeeded, some didn't.
Most of the Death Eaters were too busy trying to shoot spells back at them, or dive out of the way of incoming spells and gunfire, to pay much attention to the ones dropping to the ground.
"Move up!" Brad ordered, firing several shots into a muscular looking Death Eater that had appeared just a few feet behind Harry. "Push, PUSH!"
Brad led by example, charging at the few remaining Death Eaters between them and their exit. He wasn't sure what lay beyond the door, but he did know that if they stayed and tried to hold the low ground, they'd all be dead.
Something heavy smashed into his back, knocking him forward. He hit his cheek against the stone steps in front of him and his vision went dim for a second. Without waiting for his vision to clear, he bucked his hips and rotated to the side. It sent a wave of nausea through him, but he was able to get his rifle up in time to see a Death Eater that had just knocked into him, trying to right himself and get his wand pointed up.
Brad fired several rounds at point blank range into the Death Eaters chest and face, instantly killing him. It didn't matter what a bullet was made of at that range. He slumped onto Brad's legs, and Brad had to drop his rifle to try and push the body away.
Harry and several others rushed past to the door above them while Jason took a knee beside him, providing covering fire. Neville grabbed the body and pulled it away from Brad's legs.
As soon as he was free, Brad grabbed his rifle and kicked back and away from the body, so that Neville could drop it.
It was then that he saw her, a tall, almost emaciated woman with jet black hair and wild eyes, standing beside the archway. Green light erupted from her wand, catching Neville in the back. Brad watched his determined face go slack as he fell, tumbling down the steps alongside the Death Eater. The woman threw her head back and let out a piercing laugh that Brad somehow heard through the cacophony of shouting and gunfire around him.
He raised his rifle, centering the reticle on her head, and squeezed the trigger. The rifle kicked, but not before he was jerked to the side by his vest. Jason had him by the pull handle and was yanking him up the stairs. Brad kicked at the stairs, reflexively trying to get his footing and get moving, and shouted in rage as the woman ducked behind one of the stone pillars, sensing that she'd narrowly missed being shot.
Brad finally caught his footing at the top of the platform. The rest of them had made it through the door and were running to an open door on the other end of the circular room. A robed figure was in the doorway, unconscious and blocking it from closing. Brad recognized it as their route back to the elevators.
As soon as he made it to the door, he turned, covering Sara and Jason as they retreated, ducking to avoid the streaks of light chasing after them. Jason made it first, followed closely by Sara. Brad fired off several rounds as Jason yanked the body roughly through the door so they could shut it.
"MOVE!" Jason thundered as the door closed, and Brad turned to see that the students had bunched together in the hallway, stunned. Jason was pushing them, ushering them back to the elevators, where Eric was trying unsuccessfully to call one.
Hermione helped him call an elevator while the rest of them stood in silence. Sara and Jason were covering the other end of the hall, toward the door. It was going to get ugly if the Death Eaters got that door open before they were out.
"Where's Neville?" Harry asked, a note of panic in his voice. The others looked around, confirming that he wasn't present. When Harry met Brad's eye, Brad simply shook his head. What else was there to say?
Hermione covered her mouth with her hand as Hannah Abbott's eyes welled up. Harry's shoulders slumped, but he didn't say anything. Brad didn't either. There was nothing to say.
The elevator arrived and they piled in. It was tight, Brad and Jason were the last to load up and had to squeeze their boots side to side in order for the doors to have room to close, but they couldn't afford to leave anyone back. The Death Eaters were too close on the trail.
The cramped elevator ride was short and silent. Hannah was trying unsuccessfully to keep her breathing even and her sniffles from disturbing anyone, but she was hardly the only one with tears in their eyes.
"Neville was a good guy," Jason said, breaking the silence. Even his voice sounded thick. The elevator doors dinged. "I liked-"
Jason's words stopped in his throat as the doors opened. They raised their rifles, piling out of the elevator and trying to vainly to find some kind of cover.
The security shack had been blasted to shreds and the ad hoc defensive position Lt. Knight had set up had been obliterated. Brad could see smoking bodies in the position, and there was a uniformed body in the middle of the elevator banks, clearly dead.
They scanned the area, looking for any sign of a threat and not finding one. All four members of Phantom were dead.
"We need to get you guys out of here," Brad said, a sense of numbness growing in his heart. He gestured for the DA members to go toward the Floo hall.
"Why?" a familiar, almost wheezing voice asked. Brad looked up in time to see Voldemort, standing atop the statue in the middle of the fountain, wave his wand in a sweeping motion. They were all knocked off of their their feet.
Brad fell to his back, sliding until his helmet bounced against the wall, bending his neck an odd, painful angle.
He reflexively raised his rifle, pumping several shots at where Voldemort had stood, but he was no longer there. Brad waited a second, looking for any kind of movement before pushing himself back to his feet.
A cackling laugh echoed in the hall, seeming to come from everywhere around them at once. Brad scanned for a target: the fountain, windows above them, the Floo hall, back to the fountain…
A piercing scream erupted from near the elevators and Brad turned in time to see one of the DA members, the tall asian girl, lifting slowly into the air. She screamed as she rose, never pausing for a breath, as though she had a limitless supply of air with which to vocalize her fear.
As suddenly as it began, her screaming stopped. She hovered there for a moment, looking terrified, and then flew quickly into the statue. She started to scream, but it stopped with a sickening crack as she crashed into it. Then it was silent again.
Jason and Sara were ushering the DA members together, scanning for targets and trying to edge them to the Floo chamber. They need to get them out of there.
"Harry," Voldemorts voice called, "you can spare them. Come to me. Come, and I'll let them live."
The others had gathered near Brad. Harry didn't hesitate for a moment, he started to walk toward the fountain. Brad grabbed his arm hard, still holding his rifle with the other.
"Don't you fucking dare," Brad scolded him. Harry looked dazed. Two of his friends had died, Brad got that, but Harry needed to focus. He squeezed Harry tight, painfully. "Get to the Floo, no matter what."
Maybe the painful squeeze brought clarity to Harry. Perhaps it was the authoritative look, or the determination with which Brad gave the order, but Harry nodded imperceptibly. It was enough.
"You try my patience!" Voldemort rasped, this time sounding closer.
Ding. The elevator doors opened and the smoky columns of Death Eaters rushed out, breaking the stillness.
"Move!" Brad ordered, firing on the first Death Eater to form and knocking him back. Brad shifted, firing at another when his bolt clicked back. He reached for another magazine, feeling only empty pouches. Should have been counting.
He let the rifle drop, yanking his H&K from its holster and firing as he retreated along the rear of the group, toward the Floo hall. This time, there was no enchanted munition to preserve life. These were hollow points. Brad watched a red ribbon of blood spray from the shoulder of one Death Eater that had fired a pair of spells at the retreating students.
Then, as quickly as they came, the Death Eaters disappeared, the tell-tale snap of apparition echoing with each departure. Brad looked back, seeing students disappearing into green bursts of flame through the Floo.
It took him a second to realize that Dumbledore was standing there, in the middle of the hall, staring back toward the fountain. When Brad followed his gaze, he saw Voldemort standing there, wand in hand. Harry was part way between the two.
Voldemort tilted his head, a little acknowledgement, and then a bolt of red lightning erupted from his wand. Harry ducked as Dumbledore matched the move, his own light a pulsing blue-white. Sparks flew in every direction as the two tried to force past the stalemate.
Brad rushed forward to grab Harry and pull him to safety. This shit was Dumbledore's wheelhouse. Brad's job was to get Harry to safety, and Harry was definitely not safe here.
There was a brief explosion between the dueling wizards as something broke. Voldemort jumped backwards while Dumbledore pressed forward, each of them casting spells faster than Brad had ever seen it done.
Neither of them were scoring hits. Each spell was extremely accurate, and each spell was also deflected by shields and counterspells. Brad couldn't keep track of everything going on as Dumbledore nimbly jumped to the side, dodging the centaur's head as it flung down the Floo hall, pulverizing a fireplace at the far end.
Jason and Sara were ushering the last of the students into a fireplace and Brad pushed Harry over to them.
"Go, you guys are rallying at The Burro-" Jason was struck in the back of the head by an errant bolt of green light. He slumped to the ground like a puppet whose strings were cut.
"Jason!" Brad shouted, trying to catch his friend. Jason was bigger and all Brad could do was slow him down. Eric and Harry helped roll Jason to his back. The operator was already deathly pale...not breathing...no pulse...dead.
Brad jumped toward the melee as an explosion of glass turned to dust around Dumbledore. He felt hands on him, trying to hold him back, but he yanked away. He knew they were yelling at him, trying to talk him down, but he couldn't only make out the faint muffles of voices...nothing they said made it through, it didn't matter.
He raised his sidearm as Voldemort let out a sigh, disappearing with a snap!
Brad gripped both sides of his helmet, ripping it away from his head and screaming in frustration. He wanted to kill! He wanted to make Voldemort pay, and he'd been robbed of it.
Brad felt hands on the back of his vest as he sank to his knees. Around him, Brad saw more uniforms. The multicam pattern worn by TFA. Soldiers were pouring into the Floo hall, securing it and the elevator banks beyond.
It took a long moment...Brad wasn't sure how long, but he finally got to his feet. He could see Dumbeldore talking with a very pale looking Minister Fudge.
"-an't believe I could have been so blind...all this time-" Fudge was saying. Brad ignored it.
Sara was rubbing his back. A small part of him felt embarrassed, but he didn't have the energy to put a stop to it. By the Floo, Harry and Eric were holding Jason's hands as a medic shook his head, further crushing any hope that Jason had survived.
Harry was safe…the Floo room was secure…
Mission Accomplished.