AN - In the interest of forewarning, this is a violent chapter. I hope you all are well. Enjoy
"Copy, Spriggan 3 in place," Kingpin said over the radio as the last of the four perimeter teams radioed in. "We have containment."
Brad was riding shotgun in the second SUV, part of a convoy of four, driving down a road of hard packed dirt just wide enough for the SUVs to pass through without scraping the paint off. It would have undoubtedly concerned the neighbors to see the row of black vehicles speeding down their lonely country road, if either of them had been awake.
"Dagger Flight, confirm your ETA?" Kingpin asked.
"Dagger 1, ETA eight mikes." The response brought a slight frown to Brad's lips. Dagger Flight was a pair of AH-64 Apaches, which would be providing overwatch for the raid. They were evidently running a little behind, the raid would begin before the Apaches were on station.
"Copy, eight mikes."
"We're sixty seconds out," the lead driver alerted them. Brad responded by snapping his NVGs down over his eyes. They clicked on at the same time as their driver, a corporal from 3rd Platoon, turned off the headlights. They didn't want to get spotted early, seconds counted.
They were rapidly approaching the suspected headquarters of the Death Eaters, for what they hoped would be a decisive blow against the organization. With any luck, Voldemort would be there.
All four of the perimeter teams, using the designation 'Spriggan', were from units well seasoned in operations back in the States, and all of them had Aurors imbedded in them. Those Aurors had spent the day quietly dismantling the protective charms and wards set on the residence. They had reported that the charms were quite powerful, a good sign they might find Voldemort.
"Good luck in there," Hermione said, reaching up from the back seat to give his shoulder a squeeze.
"Thanks," Brad replied, only just stopping himself from giving her a thumbs up that she wouldn't see in the dark.
She was here about their secondary objective, rescuing a muggle prisoner being held here. Brad had some suspicions as to how Hermione had heard that. However she learned it, she'd actually gone all the way to FOB Phoenix and straight to Sumner's office, where she did some combination of begging and demanding to be here, just in case it was Mike.
Sumner had agreed, on the condition that Hermione stay inside one of the SUVs with a driver until the raid was over and the scene was secure. Brad wasn't sure, but he thought maybe it was guilt from the loss of Jason, along with the many months they'd been without Mike.
The intelligence guy, Burke, had stressed that they had no reason to suspect that the prisoner would be Mike. Personally, he hoped Hermione was right.
The lead vehicle turned right, going up a driveway that was paved with fresh asphalt. It arched in a long U-shape, the apex of which ended at a large metal gate. It was time. He felt his SUV turn and the engine revved high, accelerating to keep up with the lead vehicle. Now that they were here, shit was going to get loud.
"Entry team on site," Brad said. He was leading the assault element. The SUV screeched to a stop. He threw his door open and jumped out. Operators from Spectre, Wraith, and Wendigo joined his team, converging on the metal gate.
"Setting charge," Captain Dallas of Wendigo team declared. Brad saw him place the explosives and stand back. "Breaching."
The explosive charge detonated with a loud clang as the metal gate warped and jumped open. The four teams poured through the gate. Brad could see over a dozen lasers playing over different surfaces, mostly the windows and doors of the mansion looming ahead of them.
Brad took Reaper to the left of a small hedge maze that was in their path, along with Captain Dallas and Wendigo team. The other two teams took the right side. Lights were springing on inside, no doubt in response to the explosion.
"Hit the power," Brad said as the front door porch light flipped on.
Spriggan 4 had been prepared for the order. Their interdiction point, along the road that they'd driven in from, was where the grid extension box was. It was how this mansion, along with the neighboring properties, got their power. The estate went dark.
Brad moved to the front door as Captain Mason from Spectre team did the same from the other side of the yard. Wraith and Wendigo teams were extending snap ladders that would take them through the second floor. Mason beat them to the door.
"Placing charge," he said, sticking a smaller explosive just above the door handle. "Breaching front door."
Whump! The door smashed inward and Brad was right there, pushing inside through the smoke. He saw a Death Eater sitting on the floor of the foyer, holding his face. Evidently he'd been on the other side of the door when it had blown in.
"One down," he said for the benefit of the rest of the teams, as well as Kingpin, who would be keeping track of numbers. Brad shot him twice and continued his sweep, moving to the right of a pillar in the foyer and into a large lounge. There were several couches and chairs arranged to entertain guests, all of which were empty at the moment.
He swept along the right wall, watching other lasers that marked the lane of fire for each of his teammates. When he reached the far corner, he turned inward. Sara had made it to the corner diagonal to him, while Eric was back near the foyer.
"Room clear, moving," Brad called out, hearing a similar call from across the foyer as Captain Mason led Spectre through the other side of the first floor.
Brad heard muffled shouts, stomping footsteps, and suppressed gunshots from upstairs as his team collapsed in toward the only other doorway in the lounge.
A pulse of green light shot from the doorway, narrowly missing Sara. She ducked and fired several shots while Brad and Eric charged forward. By the time Brad had made it to the doorway, the target had slumped to the floor. "One down."
They cleared a reading room, a bathroom, the dining room, and finally the kitchen, listening to reports as each room in the house was secured.
Brad was bringing his team back around to the front to regroup with Spectre when he heard unsuppressed gunshots from the front of the house.
"Conta-" someone yelled over the radio. It was cut off. Brad bolted through the front door, his team close in tow. Hermione was over there.
"Kingpin, Reaper, shots fired at the entry point, we're responding."
Mike felt his muscles straining as he, along with three burly Death Eaters, tried to push a stone statue up into place. It was something Bellatrix had obtained for Eden and she wouldn't stop talking about it.
Apparently the middle of the night was the perfect time to put it up. Eden was gone, off searching for some old wand, and she wanted the damned thing set up before he came back.
All of this was academic, of course...in his mind. His body was moving on its own as he exerted every ounce of effort he could manage, trying to get this statue upright. The other three Death Eaters were struggling as well.
"We ought to just use our wands," one of them said, a thick, slavic accent to his voice. "Much easier this way."
"No," Bellatrix purred, running her hand along the chin of the statue as they strained. "The effort makes it mean more."
Mike wanted to tell her she was the only one not putting in any effort, but he had no control over his mouth. He heard a distant, recognizable sound. It was getting louder. The sound of automotive engines.
He felt the statue finally shift and rock into place. They let go, the others sighing in relief. His own tight muscles wanted to stretch as well, but instead he simply stood still, waiting for Bellatrix to tell him what to do.
Tires screeched from close by. The main road, if you could call it that, was hard packed dirt. The only way for tires to screech would be if they were on the pavement of the driveway. The Death Eaters looked around, all of them confused by the sound. Probably weren't used to the sounds cars make.
BOOM! An explosion thumped in his chest, even through the hedges.
Holy shit, Mike thought, is that an assault team?
The Death Eaters all pulled out their wands, Bellatrix included, but she didn't let them leave the center of the maze. She held a finger to her lips.
Any doubt that this was a raid disappeared as he heard dozens of boots shuffling past in the grass outside the maze, followed by the power cutting out. Mike wanted to scream out. Wanted to alert them somehow. Instead, he stood obediently.
Bellatrix furrowed her brow and then leaned in toward the others. "We can't apparate, someone's blocked us."
She beckoned for them to follow her, and they did. Mike was at the rear of the group, unable to see anything. They got lost a few times, the maze confusing in the dark, but finally made it to the entrance, facing the right side of the property.
As they stepped out to the grass, the Death Eaters looked around for threats. Mike could hear suppressed gunshots coming from the house, along with the occasional flash of spellfire.
Mike looked around. In the moonlight, he could see the silhouette of the warped gate. On the other side, a row of parked SUVs.
Bellatrix started walking quietly toward the gate, and Mike followed automatically. He prayed that someone was there, guarding the vehicles. Someone had to see them, they were so close.
As Bellatrix neared the gate, a face peeked around the corner. With reflexes like lightning, she grabbed the figure. Mike felt adrenaline spike at seeing whoever it was on the wrong end of the attack as they were yanked off their feet and through the gate with hardly a sound. Bellatrix had a hand clamped around their throat.
"Who might this be?" she asked, peering closely. A soft squeal of glee as she whispered, "I remember you!" She turned to one of the Death Eaters and told him to keep their prisoner quiet.
He watched the muscular man pick them up. She was a thin, muscular woman, one hand clamped around her mouth. He was close enough to see her terrified eyes…
Her terrified eyes. His heart sank and if he could, he would have vomited. What could Hermione possibly be doing here!?
He tried again, tried to scream, to move...to do anything to help her. His desperate screams echoed uselessly in his brain, begging his body to just do something.
"Hermione, where'd you go?" someone whispered loudly from the driveway. A head popped up from the driver's seat of one of the SUVs, jumping at the sight of Bellatrix and the other two Death Eaters.
"Holy shit!" he cried in surprise, yanking out his sidearm and cranking off several shots. The Death Eaters ducked as he shouted "Conta-"
Bellatrix, who stood unwavering through the whole thing, caught the soldier in the face with a killing spell. He slumped to the ground and she turned to them.
"Get in the car!" She hissed, "Take the girl! You drive, muggle!" She sneered it at him. None of them were likely to have experience driving.
He wanted to drag his feet. Wanted to refuse. Delay. Anything. They were so close.
He got in the driver's seat, cranked the wheel to get around the lead car, and hit the gas.
Brad reached the gate just in time to see an SUV turn and leap past the lead vehicle. He raised his rifle, his laser reaching the back window just in time to see it pass around the driveway curve.
Eric was jumping into the driver seat of the third vehicle and Sara was headed there as well.
"Reaper, we have an SUV on the move, unknown hostiles inside." Brad slid into the passenger seat, the ground leaving his foot as the vehicle kicked forward. He slammed his door shut as they darted around a body on the ground. Eric sped down the bend in the driveway and they caught view of the tail lights as they disappeared to the right.
"Turning right," Brad reported as he rolled his window down. Sara had done the same on her side in the rear drivers seat, both of them ready to fire once they caught up. Like hell someone was getting away.
They turned onto the packed dirt road, following faint tail lights obscured by a dust trail. Branches and leaves assaulted the sides of the vehicle as the engine roared, Eric pushing to catch up with the fleeing SUV.
Whoever was driving it had some experience. They were sticking tight against dips and turns in the road, maximizing their forward momentum and barely touching the breaks. Eric was doing an excellent job at keeping up, but they were hardly gaining any ground.
After several moments of tight turns and bumps, they neared the interdiction point manned by Spriggan 3. They would have parked their own SUVs in the intersection ahead, blocking someone fleeing from getting through to the main road.
"Spriggan 3, we're coming up," Brad said into the radio as the branches on his side of the road disappeared, revealing flat farmland. He didn't hesitate. He pushed his rifle out of the window first, his upper body trailing with it. He watched the laser bounce around as he tried to target the car, planning to either shoot out the back window or skip a round up into the rear tires.
Instead, their target banked hard to the right a few hundred feet before the turn that would have revealed Spriggan 3's roadblock. The wooden fence exploded as the SUV passed through it, kicking up a plume of dirt and grass as it drove through the farmland, diagonal toward the intersecting road.
How the hell did they know there would be a roadblock?
Mike felt the tires skidding as he hit the dirt road and corrected for it, minimizing the loss of traction. He was acutely aware of how close pursuit would be. Shit, he wanted them to catch up, but his body was reacting on its own.
He felt the pedal push in and they tore down the road, listening to branches smacking the sides of the SUV, along with Hermione's scared protests.
She had been wedged into the middle of the second row, between Bellatrix and one of the Death Eaters. The other two were in the third row, watching nervously behind for pursuit. The Death Eater beside Hermione was holding her down while Bellatrix did something. Mike couldn't see it from the rearview mirror when he glanced back, but from the sounds of it, Hermione didn't like it.
He was desperate to slam on the breaks. He could picture himself leaping back there and strangling the life out of Bellatrix. It might be the death of him, as the other Death Eaters wouldn't just watch, but it would be worth it.
Instead, he tucked into the curves of the road, making sure the vehicle stayed as straight as possible. He angled just right, reducing the loss of speed around each bend and turn and accelerating quickly after.
"I know, you fought so brave at the Ministry," Bellatrix said as Hermione's squeals grew more panicked. "But, I lost friends there, and here fate drops you in my lap!"
He managed to look back in time to see that Bellatrix had an ornate, silver knife. He didn't know where she got it, but the burly Death Eater was holding Hermione's arms over her head with one hand, the other pinning her to the seat. Her shirt had been lifted, revealing her navel, which Bellatrix was tracing the knife around.
Mike caught all of that in a split second glance, and for the second time, he wanted to vomit. He wanted to do something to help her.
Instead, the betraying portion of his brain focused on the road and remembered that this road was going to end soon. If he had planned an assault on the area, it's the spot he'd place a blocking unit.
The large bushes and trees to the right vanished, revealing mostly flat farmland, and he cranked the wheel. All of the occupants slammed to the left and Bellatrix cursed, dropping the knife to the ground.
They were bouncing and bumping along the farmland. Mike hoped they'd throw an axel or something and the rig would stop dead. He caught Hermoine trying to squirm, the panic in her voice apparent as Bellatrix popped back up with the knife and a wicked grin, evidently determined to do this here and now.
He felt a small pang of relief in his panic as the following SUV crashed through the opening he'd made.
The rear window exploded and the rest of the occupants ducked. Mike didn't, his body was concentrating on driving. He angled toward the smallest bush in the row that lined the paved road toward Dewlish.
For the first time in his life, he hoped one of those rounds would impact the back of his head. If they nailed him, he'd be done. The vehicle would roll to a stop and be swarmed by special operators. Hermione would be safe.
He could see multiple flashes in from the rearview mirror. The thumping impact of bullets against the frame of the car sounded, but infrequently. It was a hard shot to make between two moving vehicles bumping across uneven land.
They burst through the little bush and he cranked the wheel perfectly, sliding them onto the road. The tires gripped and they leapt forward. He saw a few pairs of headlights on the road behind him, likely the interdiction team speeding to catch up. They were blotted out by the pursuit SUV jumping onto the road, close behind them.
"Get them, you useless buffoons!" Bellatrix screeched at the two rearmost Death Eaters as a pair of bullets splintered the front windshield. It made his view of the road more difficult. Maybe he'd miss something and crash. "As for you, you owe me a little flesh."
"No! NoooOOOOOO!" Hermione shrieked. It echoed the cab of the car, running up several octaves. Mike glanced back and could see Bellatrix was running the blade down, skin flaying neatly from her navel.
His vision blurred from the tears in his eyes at her anguished cry. It tinted red with rage, with the desire to kill that woman for harming the love of his life.
A brick house passed on their left and the trees to either side of the road disappeared. All farmland...and one, big oak tree to the right.
Mike's fingers twitched on the wheel, his foot wobbled on the accelerator.
"Pleeeeease, pleeEEEEEASE!" Hermione squealed.
Mike cranked the wheel, aiming for the tree. He missed. His body revolted against the action, but a hair too late.
They crashed through the wooden fence and the passenger wheel clipped the tree roots, launching the SUV up and rotating it sickeningly. The car slammed back to the ground sideways and pitched back up into the air.
Mike watched the ground flying toward his window. He took that final, minuscule moment, to pray that Hermione would be okay.
Mike opened his eyes, not sure what had happened. His head hurt. Everything hurt.
He was laying on his back, staring up at a beautiful, starry night. Something was digging into his back. Slowly, with effort, he tried to look down. His neck hurt and he realized he couldn't see anything out of his left eye. He tried again, pushing past his bodily protests.
His upper body was laying on the ground outside of an overturned SUV. His legs were still inside, jammed up into the driver's seat, held there by the seatbelt.
Several flashes of light pulsed from above his head. He looked that way and caught the blurry view of three men running through the field, firing their wands toward something on the other side of the SUV as they ran toward a fenced section of woods.
"Hermione," he moaned, looking back. He'd crashed. Bellatrix Lestrange had been hurting her.
He pushed with his arms and his legs fell from the seatbelt. Pain lanced up his spine and he froze for a moment. It passed as quickly as it came.
He rolled over, acutely aware of blood dripping quickly down his face. He crawled toward the back of the SUV, where the window had burst open in the crash.
Peeking in, he saw Bellatrix hanging upside down from her seatbelt. Hermione was crumpled against the roof of the car, in the middle...not moving.
"Hermione," he moaned again, reaching past the broken glass. He ignored Bellatrix, focusing on grabbing Hermione by the shirt and pulling.
She was heavy...or he was weak...the pain in his shoulder didn't help. Still, he pulled her, got her out through the window without running her across the jagged glass, and laid her out in the grass.
He could see her pulse thumping in her neck. Her eyes were closed and she moaned. He couldn't tell if it was tears or blood running down his cheeks. He felt relief that she was alive...agony at the sight of her abdomen.
Bellatrix had carved deep into her belly, from her navel to the line of her pants, and then a jagged line back up again. He ignored the pain as he pulled an arm from his jacket and slid it off, pressing it to her abdomen.
She was alive, so he turned his attention back to the car. With rage pumping in his veins, he felt stronger now. He made it to his hands and knees as he crawled over.
Her knife was jammed into the headrest of the driver's seat. Mike let out the single bark of a laugh as the sound of suppressed gunfire reached a crescendo from behind the SUV. He'd been so close to catching that thing in the back of his head.
He yanked it from the headrest and set to work carving the seatbelt away. To her credit, Bellatrix kept the knife sharp. After a few sawing hacks, the seatbelt snapped and Bellatrix fell to the roof of the car with a groan.
He yanked her out through the same window, less gently than he'd been with Hermione. Her back scraped against the broken glass and her eyes shot open weakly, but he didn't stop tugging. Not until she was all the way out.
"You," she cursed quietly. She tried to sit up, slowly, not as energetic as she usually was.
Mike gripped the knife and pulled himself on top of her. Her eyes bugged as he flexed the fingers of his stronger right hand around her throat, constricting the flow of air and blood.
One of her hands clawed at his fingers while the other searched desperately in the grass around her. She didn't take her wide eyes off of his as he centered himself, sitting on her waist.
"Your wand's in the car," Mike rasped, not really knowing for sure. His throat was ragged and raw. Her mouth gaped open, but she didn't say anything. She couldn't.
Mike held up the knife in numbing fingers, letting the blade glint in the moonlight. Her eyes left his for the first time, widening further. She began to squirm and struggle underneath him.
He desperately wanted to say something. To have some witty thing to say, some words to really grind it home. All of the shit he had endured...he had nothing.
Instead, he set the blade against her sternum and pushed. She bucked wildly underneath him, trying to get him off of her, but she only succeeded in sinking the blade deeper. He didn't stop until the blade was in, up to the hilt, and she finally stopped moving.
He stayed there for a second, making sure she was really dead, before rolling off and crawling back to Hermione. When he got to her, she was awake, moaning and holding a hand against her belly.
Mike grabbed the jacket, which had fallen off and pushed it against her. She closed her hands around it, holding it there instinctively.
There was shouting from somewhere nearby. Mike looked up and saw the trees erupting in fire and explosions. In the sky near them, pulsing flashes silhouetted an AH-64, letting loose a torrent from its nose cannon. Typically a beautiful sight.
Mike turned his attention back to Hermione and his arm gave out. He collapsed beside her, too weary to hold himself up. He lay his head against hers, smelling that coconut shampoo mixed with spent gunpowder and blood. As coldness crept deeper into his limbs, he smiled. He got to see her again.