Chapter One: From Two Sides of Time
Author note: This story is the fifty-eighth in the Magical Flashpoint series. It follows "Son of The Fox".
Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own Flashpoint, Harry Potter, Narnia, or Merlin.
Toronto
"Entry on my mark," Ed hissed over the comm, eyes narrow as he judged the target house. "Boss?"
"I see him," Greg reported. "Pacing near green wall. Three other occupants, all on a couch, watching the game."
The team leader smirked; his boss's gryphon side could be a royal pain, but the super-vision – he was almost jealous of it some days. "Mark."
The ram bashed through the door, followed by Wordy and Sam. "Police!"
"Hands in the air!"
"SRU!"
"Weapons down, do it now!"
Camelot
The knight eyed the creature they'd come to kill. It hissed, the head and neck looking very much like a gigantic snake along with two leathery frills on each side of its head. The body of the creature reminded Sir Leon of the dragon. Not the Great Dragon, but the dragon he'd seen at Camlann, sickly and deformed, but still dangerous. Vicious and totally loyal to the Witch.
"There is the hydra, sir knight," the villager announced, gesturing with his torch while the rest of Camelot's knights caught up with the pair.
Blue eyes narrowed. "No tail?"
"None that we have seen, sir knight. Only the head." The villager hesitated, then added, "It seems to fear fire."
Interesting. "Thank you for guiding us here," Sir Leon said. "We'll handle it from here."
The villager fled while Sir Leon gestured for the knights to fan out. Sir Percival stepped up next to the First Knight. The tall noble traded glances with the brawny commoner knight, both re-affirming what they already knew. Standing together. To the end.
Then Sir Leon yelled, "For Camelot!" and Sir Percival charged, sword flashing as it cut through the creature's neck.
For a moment, the knights stared at the creature as it screeched in pain and collapsed, feeling as though the battle had been rather…anti-climatic.
Then two heads grew back, each as large as the first and just as vicious.
Toronto
The speed of Team One's entry caught most of the gang off guard. Before any of them could go for weapons, they were covered by the SRU's submachine guns. Three more gang members charged in, firing recklessly at the officers; Parker half-snarled as he clotheslined one and executed a picture-perfect takedown while Wordy and Ed swung around to cover the other two.
In the confusion, their primary subject fled, darting into the darker areas of the house and escaping before Team One could nab him. "Subject on the move!" Sam yelled, racing after the man.
"Spike, keep your eyes open," Wordy ordered.
In the house's garage, the bomb tech nodded fiercely. "Copy. He won't get past me."
"Lou, Jules?" Ed called.
"Got two more," Lou reported in. "Down and cuffed."
"Copy that." Glancing over at his boss, the team leader asked, "You good?"
Parker inclined his head, though a frown appeared. "Spike, any escape tunnels on the blueprints?"
"Nothing that I saw, Sarge, but this is an old house."
"Copy," the Sergeant acknowledged, trading a grim look with Ed. "Sam?"
"I lost him."
Camelot
Leon shouted, yanking Percival back in the nick of time as massive jaws snapped at where the big knight had been only a second before. The other knights let out shouts of their own and charged, slashing through the two new heads' necks before Leon could stop them.
Four heads grew, one of them lashing out and sending the nearest knight flying into a tree. Two other heads snaked forward, each of them seizing a knight. One bit down and the other smashed its victim into a handy rock. Leon blocked the final head, slamming the hilt of his sword into its overgrown chin as it attempted to take advantage of Percival's shock.
"Regroup!" the First Knight yelled. Fire. They needed fire. "Percival," he hissed. "It's afraid of fire."
The big knight nodded, but both knights knew. To get fire, they would have to stop fighting the creature long enough to find and light torches. Of the ten knights they'd come with, three were already dead. By the time they got a torch lit – they'd be the only ones left.
Toronto
The gang member snarled to himself, furious. So the pigs wanted to play with him and his boys, huh? He'd show them, just as soon as he got out of the trap his home-boy had gotten him into. He should've known better – he'd known that girl was nothing but a snitch! Pity he couldn't return the favor.
As he pushed the next door open, he spotted another pig and ducked back, out of sight. Then he frowned. The pig's back was to him, focused on another door. Smirking, the tattooed, dreadlocked man reached down, sneaking his favorite gun out of its holster. Time to teach the pigs some manners.
Camelot
Leon threw himself to the side, yelling in frustration as Sir Rannulf went down, eyes already blank and staring above the bloody wreck of his chest. The blasted hydra was up to twelve heads and although he and Percival had somehow managed to get a torch lit, the creature's heads were efficiently keeping both knights away from its sluggish, vulnerable body.
The last two knights of Camelot locked gazes, each understanding without words. They couldn't beat this creature. For a moment, the curly-haired knight found himself wishing, with all his heart, that they had a sorcerer. One they could trust, one that could've helped them beat this monster. A name darted through his mind and he shook it away, bitter regrets twisting his insides.
Then Sir Leon, First Knight of Camelot and one of the last Knights of the Round Table, lifted his sword and charged.
Toronto
The gangster sneered as he crept out of the hidden tunnel, gun lifting towards the oblivious pig watching the door.
Leon nearly sprawled on the ground as he stumbled to a halt, dazed. The hydra was gone, as was the forest and the bodies of his fellow knights. Instead, he stood in a stone building, behind two people, one of whom was creeping towards the other. Neither had noticed his sudden arrival. Shifting back, Leon's shoulder struck Percival's chest and relief nearly crushed the knight. He wasn't alone.
The curly-haired light brunet's attention shifted back to the other two men. Both were dressed in clothing unlike anything Leon had ever seen before, but the closest one… Bandit, his instincts hissed. The bandit lifted something and instinct crystallized.
In the days when he'd served under his King, the knight never would've considered stabbing a man in the back, but Leon had learned a valuable lesson at Camlann. Honor matters nothing to a corpse. In one fluid move, Sir Leon ran the bandit through.
Spike snapped around at the unmistakable sound of metal slicing through flesh, gun lifting automatically. Then he froze, jaw dropping open as his hands sagged in utter shock.
Standing over the body of their primary subject – were two knights of Camelot. Complete with shiny armor and swords. And blood.