NOTES: Decided to continue the story again.
Blink
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: I am not the owner or creator of Harry Potter.
Chasing a Shadow
Raid
Auror Special Forces Headquarters, Ministry of Magic, London...
The team leaders sat quietly in the large meeting room. No one spoke as they all waited anxiously for Kingsley Shaklebolt to arrive. They were going to raid the safehouse that Harris Earl had found only weeks ago. They had posted watches on the two possible locations that Earl had narrowed down to, but it had taken all this time before they finally got a break and found out which one it was.
Hermione and Ron sat together, both leaders of two seperate teams of six. They were elite Aurors, some had even tried to be Hit Wizards but had been taken out of the program. It was not because they were not good, in fact they were well qualified, but it was because Kingsley had requested them to be put into his program.
The door to the meeting room opened and Kingsley walked in, his robes billowing from the movement. He stopped and turned to look at them all, his expression serious and his lips pursed into a thin line. He clasped his hands behind his back as his gaze swept the room. He nodded.
"Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we are going to conduct our very first raid," he paused, "This will be the first true test of the capabilities of the ASF, and we must do well; not only for the good of the ASF, but also because this raid is of the utmost importance to the Ministry, and possibly, to the world."
He unclasped his hands and started to make motions with them as he continued to talk, "The target is an abandoned factory in Sweden. Our mission is to assault the factory, recover any intelligence material, and capture as many enemies as we can. This new enemy organization is dark and very good at concealing themselves. We have little information on them, except that they are using both muggle and wizarding forces," he walked around a little, "Recovering information is our top priority in this mission. Kill only when you cannot capture them safely."
Hermione looked to Ron, who nodded slowly. They both could feel the adrenaline slowly pumping into their bloodestreams.
"The attack begins in two hours. A storm is going to hit them in about that time, which should give us ample cover in the darkness. We will try to infiltrate the factory silently, but if our cover is blown, you are free to move quickly to capture the facility," Kingsley finished and then asked if there were any questions.
A few minutes later, they were all filing out of the room, but as Hermione and Ron were about to leave, Kingsley motioned for them to stay behind. They looked at each other curiously before they went over to Kingsley.
"You will not be going on this raid," he told them flatly.
They started to protest, but he raised his hands to silence them. "I have another mission for you," he said.
Hermione and Ron were talking logistics on the way to the portkey rooms. Their new mission would involve another raid, albeit a little smaller, and would be bent on recovering a Ministry asset who was believed to be held there. They were also tasked with recovering any information that could be found at the target location.
Twelve ASF operatives followed them, carrying packs and other equipment that they would need. They filed into one of the large stone portkey rooms and the heavy steel door banged shut behind them once they were all inside. A basketball lay on a pedestal in the middle of the room, waiting for them to grab on.
The teams had no idea what they were doing, though they could guess, but Hermione and Ron had decided to tell them once they got there. They asked no questions, knowing better than to do so, but Hermione could tell they were very curious.
"Ten seconds to portkey activation," a voice echoed around the room.
"Alright everyone, grab hold!" Hermione said strongly as she reached forward to grab the basketball.
They room started to spin suddenly and before they knew it, they were in an empty warehouse. The air was hot and humid as they cast light spells. This would be their base of operations while they were in Libya and Ron instructed the others to set up.
A few minutes later, magical tents were set up along with a few chairs, and a table, upon which lay a detailed map of Tripoli and the surrounding areas. The nice thing about the map was that they could zoom in and out by tapping it with their wands, which was useful if they wanted to study a specific area more closely.
Once they were set up, they secured the warehouse by making sure there was no one else around. They then proceeded to hide the warehouse and set up wards. They all met up around the table and Hermione and Ron then told them everything they knew.
"A Ministry operative, callsign Swede, has gone missing. Her partner, another Ministry operative, callsign Curly, was found dead a few weeks ago by the Libyan Ministry of Magic. The report, however, took some time to get through to us because of the nature of their secret operation here in Libya," Ron began, "Eventually, we sent over another operative to try and find out where she was taken and this operative eventually identified the location of where, supposedly, Swede is being held."
"We are not raiding tonight," Hermione addressed the team, some of whom reacted negatively to that.
She glared at them to be silent, and they quickly shut up. "We are not going to go in there blindly without further intel on the situation," she told them, "We will go over there and look the place over. Ron and I have agreed that we can raid once we have gathered sufficient information about the area."
Ron nodded, "We need to know how many potential enemies we will be facing. We need to know how to assault the place, the easiest place to enter and leave, the safest way to exfiltrate, and if there are any other enemies stationed around the area to reinforce them."
"We also need to know the extent of their defenses and wards and we have to be careful of collateral damage. The Libyans have given us leave to recover our own operative, but they will not take kindly to us injuring their people and damaging their cities," Hermione spoke.
She then pointed to a bright red circle on the map that lay on the table. With a tap of Hermione's wand, the map zoomed into the circle, which was around the area of the building where Swede was being held. The streets were numerous and narrow, with dozens of alleyways, which would be a nightmare to go through if they were to do so under attack. They could have people posted on the roofs of the buildings or people in alleys waiting.
They set out a plan to reconnoiter the area thoroughly, which they would begin to execute in the early morning. After the timetable was set, they proceeded to turn in for the night as the first two watches were picked. They would be up for another three hours before they were to be relieved.
Hermione spoke to Ron briefly before they both turned in for the night. They had wanted to raid that night, and they felt a little down about not doing so, but they would get their chance soon enough.
Minister's Office, Ministry of Magic, London...
Amelia Bones sighed as she closed the folder of the report she had been reading. Her eyes were bloodshot, having slept little over the past few days. Since the death of Fudge and her appointment to the office, she had worked non-stop to undo many of the damages that Fudge had wreaked upon the Ministry and the magical community.
She had sent apologies to many of the races, especially the goblins and centaurs, for the wrongs done to them by the previous administration. She had set to work to finish the renovations on the Ministry, which had slowed while Fudge was still in office. Amelia had shifted around personnel to help the desperately undermanned departments that needed them.
Fudge had scared away many wizards and witches from applying to work for the Ministry, and they were paying the price for that now. She had authorized the use of aggressive advertisement of open jobs in the Ministry and good incentives so as to bring in more personnel that she so desperately needed.
The true deprecation of the Ministry under Fudge's hand was never fully known to her until the moment she took the office of the Minister of Magic. She now wondered whether or not all her hard work would be able to undo the damages done by the ex-Minister before the darkness struck once again.
The most troubling news to her was the sudden appearance of this new dark organization. Not only did they pose a danger to the seriously weakened Ministry, but also to the whole magical community. She was banking all her hopes on the ASF now, for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, or DMLE, needed all the personnel they could to defend the Ministry, its assets, and the people. The ASF, on the other hand, would handle the Ministry's offensive operations.
The fire to her office suddenly roared as the head of a very old friend and mentor suddenly appeared in the flames.
"Albus, what can I do for you?" she finally spoke up.
"No, Amelia," he replied, "the question is, what can I do for you?"
She considered that question then, though she had already previously thought that Dumbledore would eventually offer his help in any way possible. He would probably call on what little the Order had left to try and support the Ministry, for he knew the extent of the damage that Voldemort and Fudge had both caused a little more than she did. He was also, after all, the most powerful wizard for the light there was. But he was getting old, and so was the Order, so she had some doubts as to whether or not he could really provide help.
"Well, Albus, besides the fact that I am seriously undermanned, there is one thing that I think you can help me on," she said.
"Oh? And that is?"
She told him about the Dark Order.
Outside an abandoned factory somewhere in Sweden...
When the storm hit, it hit hard. The blizzard sent a thick sheet of snow down towards the already snow-packed ground, accompanied by explosive gusts of wind that could have blow the ASF operatives off their feet had it not been for the fact that they were magically protected by passive shields.
The task force trudged through the snow, disillusioned, just in case the Dark Order had people watched closely, even in the blizzard. Their feet fell through the thick, and steadily rising, snow, but the holes left in their wake were quickly covered up.
The ASF was assaulting the factory from all three of its open sides, west, southwest, and south. The other side of the factory was embraced by a large, dark mountain that would have taken too long to go over. Brooms were out of the question here, for they were not trained to fight on them, but Kingsley planned on making the ASF as mobile as possible, and thus they would need to train to fight on brooms some day.
He and fourteen others, for each attack group consisted of two ASF teams, and each team consisted of six operatives plus the leader, kept working their way towards the factory. He did not have time to assemble his own team yet, but he would do that soon enough.
Bright lights emenated from the factory, though the blizzard made the lights indistinct and hazy, making it seem as if the factory was glowing due to the reflection from the snow. He wondered why they would keep all the lights running, but decided that it was probably because there were some muggles soldiers there.
"Hold!" he yelled, though he could barely hear himself through the howl of the wind. He swiped the air with his wand and the wind silenced itself around them.
The group stopped and waited for Kingsley to give his orders.
The factory consisted of three large buildings, two parellel to each other, and one that was perpendicular and to one end of the two. It formed sort of a "U" shape, but they were not connected. The two parallel buildings were the warehouses, within which the heavy equipment and the gist of the factory were held. The lone building was the administration center.
Large chimneys rose up from the two warehouses, spewing for dark smoke that contrasted greatly with the torrent of white snow that came from the sky.
They were on the western flank of the factory, which was laid out perpendicular to their line of attack so that they were coming in from the left of the "U". They would split up upon reaching the westernmost warehouse, one team would infiltrate the warehouse from there, while the other team would swing around the top of the "U" and get to the other warehouse.
One of the other attack groups, coming from the south, and thus headed directly towards the administrative building, was to infiltrate the building. The remaining attack group, bearing in from the southwest, would support the attack on the warehouses from the other side while Kingsley's group attacked from the other, farther, side.
Clenching his jaw, he called to his magic and cast a spell that threw a blast of wind in front of him. The falling snow was blown away, revealing for a moment a clear space in the blizzard, and allowing him to see that there was no one patrolling the outside of the westernmost warehouse. At least none that he could see clearly.
"Check the wards!" he cried.
They all simultaneously sent scanning spells and detection spells towards the factory. Obviously, there were anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards, but there was also an alarm ward and a motion-detector spell that was interwoven into the alarm ward. The fact that the blizzard was not tripping the alarm showed that it was tuned only to big movement, specifically animal or human movement.
He carefully discussed with the team leaders and decided that, depending on who had cast the spell, it was possible to dismantle the alarm ward without breaking the alarm. One of the teams had an operative who was especially skilled at wards, and she was brought forward to work on it.
Kingsley relayed a message through a magical pendant that he and the other leaders held. Through it, they could communicate, just by holding it with a hand they activated the voice-capturing part of the charm that was on the pendants. Otherwise, the pendant allowed anyone who was talking to be heard by the others who were wearing the pendant. It was a great asset, and although there have been no reported limitations to the range yet, Kingsley had a feeling that there was a limit.
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...
Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore paced slowly around his office. One hand tucked behind his back, the other stroking his long, white beard, he digested the information that Amelia had given to him. He had been aware of the movements of a dark organization of some sort, but he had dismissed the thought as merely some Death Eaters wishing a revival of their previous plans of pure-blooded domination.
He had then ignored most of the news that came his way concerning dark tremors, rumors, and odd events here and there. Perhaps that was not the best choice to make, but it seemed to be the best course of action back when he first heard of these things. After all, why ruin the fragile peace with more talk about dark wizards and evil madmen?
The name of the organization troubled him deeply, because he seemed to recollect hearing the name so many years ago. He frowned as he struggled with his memory. Why did the name sound so familiar?
It was then that he was interrupted by a knock on his door, which startled him. He was deeply entrenched in his thoughts that he had ignored the little warning spell that he had set up to go off whenever the gargoyle was moved. He vaguely remembered feeling the slight buzz of the spell on his body, but he could not tell if it was because he was walking around or because of the spell.
"Come in!" he said, fixing his eyes upon the door as he walked around to sit behind his desk. He already knew who it was, but he was still a little troubled by the fact that he had not noticed the warning. The side effects of old age.
Remus Lupin, one of his most trusted friends and followers, entered the room, closely followed by Arthur Weasley, who, he had heard, was recently promoted to a new, high-ranking position within the DMLE after having been moved from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. They both looked uneasy, which further troubled the aging headmaster.
"Remus, Arthur," he greeted each with a nod as he said their names, "What may I do for you today?"
"Well, Albus," Arthur began, but then felt unsure of himself and fell silent.
Remus decided to step in then, "Harry is back."
The shock evident on Dumbledore's face was indescribable, but Remus would recall later on that he had never seen so much emotion displayed in so short a time. The silence itself was astounding, for the headmasters that hung in their paintings all around the office, most of whom would cough and make some other noise every now and then, just fell utterly silent. Dumbledore did not know what to say, and neither did Remus and Arthur.
Eventually, the headmaster cleared his thoughts enough to speak, albeit a little warily, "H-How do you know?" he asked.
"Well... much to my surprise, I went to Gringotts today to withdraw some money, and when I opened my vault... well, you know that we're not that particularly well off, although the job is bringing in a lot more than I had hoped for.." Arthur trailed off, but then resumed again after a moment, "You see, Albus, there was a rather large... mountain of money in there. Galleons, sickles, knuts.. whole stacks of them... and then I asked where the money had come from, and well... they were not supposed to tell, but there was only one person who could've done that.."
"I checked Harry's trust fund, since I am, legally, still his guardian and so entitled to know some information... and I found out that his trust fund no longer exists and that it had been emptied out.. today!" Remus exclaimed.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his mind still numb. It had been years since he had last seen Harry, and he had eventually wondered whether or not he was still alive. To know that he was here, in England, and alive, was just too much, especially with the Dark Order still fresh in his mind.
"Please, sit for a moment," he muttered absentmindedly to the two, who looked at each other, shrugged, and then sat down.
They waited for the old wizard to recollect his thoughts while they too contemplated the implications of Harry's return.
Potter Mansion...
Harry returned to the mansion, his mind still dazed from what he had just learned in the past hour. He did not think that there were vaults involved in Gringotts with regards to his being the heir of Gryffindor. He had known that long ago, but the vault and the title was overwhelming. The fact that he was also the heir of Hufflepuff surprised him greatly, and he had a feeling that Dumbledore had known all along.
He wondered what good hiding his heritage could possibly do, but he decided not to dwell on it because he felt his anger rising again. He might do something he would regret if he was clouded with too much emotion.
"Dobby!" he called the elf, who quickly appeared next to him with a pop, "Could you please bring that journal of yours over to my study? And some snacks and juice while you're at it."
Dobby agreed and popped away to do his bidding as Harry headed for his study. There were a dozen studies in the mansion, but he had chosen one specifically for its view of the beautiful grounds of the mansion. It also had the biggest windows and was the biggest study of them all.
He ascended one of the four staircases of the mansion, and just as he was about to turn to head for the study, which was on the second floor, he came face-to-face with Henry's portrait.
"Harry, my boy!" he cried enthusiastically, "How was the trip?"
"Very revealing."
"What's wrong?"
Harry shook his head, "Nothing really, except for the fact that I am Hufflepuff's and Gryffindor's heir.."
"Hufflepuff??" Henry asked in confusion, which further suprised Harry.
"You mean to say... you never knew?"
"Never!" replied the portrait, scratching his head, "But then again, heirs are determined by age, and so it must be that during our time there was someone older than us who was the heir of Hufflepuff. It just so happens that you are the eldest in the current surviving line of Hufflepuff."
Harry threw his hands up in the air and walked around the portrait, resuming his walk to the study. "Just my luck," he spoke bitterly, "Fate is again giving me things I never asked for, and never would have, and fate expects me to use these gifts and abilities to fight evil."
Henry followed after him but remained silent, letting the young man vent a little.
"Why am I the only one?" he asked, still bitter.
The old man in the portrait could not feel as much emotion as an actual person, but to the extent that he was able to, he felt pity and sorrow for the young man that walked before him. He just wished he could help him in some way, but being a portrait, that would be difficult.
"I am alone," he whispered, stopping abruptly before the door of the study, one hand on the handle.
"No, you are not, Harry James Potter," the firm voice of Henry replied from behind him, "You have friends, Harry, powerful and loyal friends. You have allies, some that you may not know about until much later, and most of all, the world will be fighting with you. You are defending them, Harry, and they will help you defend them from the darkness. You are not alone!"
Harry turned, a lone tear slowly rolling down his cheek. His cold, hard, emerald eyes softening a little as he regarded the man in the portrait, who was staring back at him. The young man nodded, but said nothing, as he stepped into the study, carefully closing the door behind him and shutting himself from the world.
Henry's portrait floated for a moment in front of the door as he contemplated whether or not to try to talk to him again. He decided against it. It would be better for Harry to vent a little and think through on his own. He needed some time alone, and he would respect that.
Five minutes later, just outside the abandoned factory, somewhere in Sweden...
Kingsley swung his arm back and then forward, as if to propel them to the warehouse by flinging them, catapult style, with his hand.
They broke into a run, but were still seriously impeded by the thick snow. That was when Kingsley finally felt the anti-apparition ward settle on him. They could not break down that ward because then everyone in the factory would feel the ward and they would all apparate away, or at least would be notified of the ASF's presence.
Surprise was an advantage in this situation, especially since they wanted to capture as many enemies as possible so as to glean information from these prisoners later on.
They were silent, saying nothing as they neared the western wall of the westernmost warehouse.
Fifty feet, thirty-five, twenty, ten feet...
Kingsley and the other operatives gathered around near the wall. Kingsley ordered them to split up and they moved quickly and silently to do their tasks.
Kingsley's team was the one tasked with swinging around to attack the warehouse on the other side. When they reached the far end of the first warehouse, he told the rest of the team to stop as he took a peak around the corner. They were still disillusioned, but it was only a matter of time before they were spotted and they would have to cancel their disillusionments else face possible friendly fire.
He saw two dark figures, vaguely, walking in the blizzard. They seemed unfazed by the storm, judging by the way they were walking, and he assumed they were wizards. He saw that the wizards' backs were facing him, so he took a chance and used the wind spell he had cast earlier to clear the area for a little bit so that he could see a little clearer.
He saw that two men were on the roof of the other warehouse, which meant that there were probably two up above them now. They were carrying muggle weapons with them, which meant they were most probably muggles themselves.
He hated the fact that he had to think about muggle enemies now, not that the muggles he had gone against were any problem, but these muggles seemed better than most. They were professionally trained, the best of the best, and so they were that much harder to kill, even with magic.
He called to the team and told them of what he saw. The factory had a courtyard in the middle of it, the middle of the "U", and so there might be other enemies there too.
Kingsley told one of the operatives, a small man named Jacob, to scout out the courtyard. His small stature, for he stood two inches shy of six feet, would allow for him to sneak by a little more unnoticed than the others. Jacob also specialized in stealth infiltration, according to the file that he had read, and so was perfect for the task. Not that the others could not handle stealthy missions, it was just that he was the best candidate out of all of them.
He watched the slightly shimmering figure of Jacob move through the snow and around the corner, carefully watching the two wizards that were patrolling the area close to them. They glanced over his way every now and then, but his disillusionment charm was working and they had not seen him.
"What is it you think they are making in there, commandeur?" the team's regular leader, Anton, asked in a slight French accent. He was a big man, taller than Kingsley by about an inch, and heavier than the ASF commander - that was his official title.
"I don't know, Anton, I don't know." Kingsley thought about it for a moment, but he really had no clue what they could be making in here that was important to this Dark Order. Whatever it was, they would be able to gather information on the Dark Order and hinder, however slightly, their operations by taking out the factory.
Just then, Jacob came back, his still invisible form momentarily surprising Kingsley, who had not been paying attention. They gathered in close to listen to his report.
"There are four more men, wizards I think, in the courtyard and, from what I saw, one man just inside of the door that leads to the administrative building from the courtyard. I think he is a muggle, but I am not sure."
Kingsley nodded, though he doubted that they saw him do so, "Okay, here's the plan. We get in as close as possible without detection and stun the six out here on the ground. You four," he pointed to four of the operatives, including Anton, "will take out the four in the middle of the courtyard."
Two other operatives would take out the first two wizards and then Kingsley and the last remaining operative, Jacob, would take out the muggles on top of the far warehouse. Anton and his three other men would then take out two muggles, who Kingsley assumed would also be patrolling the top of the warehouse, from the middle of the courtyard.
They all acknowledged the plan and in seconds they moved into action. Kingsley gave enough time for Anton and his men to get closer before letting the two other operatives get close to their targets. Flashes of red later, all six were down, quickly followed by two carefully aimed shots at the two muggles on the far warehouse, who were taken out by stunners as well.
After the two on the first warehouse were taken care of, they met up near one of the entrances to the far warehouse.
So far so good, everything was going to plan. Kingsley grabbed his pendant and asked for sitreps from the other two groups, both of whom said that all was well. They had taken out guards in their areas and were infiltrating their respective buildings.
Kingsley felt very strange. Everything was going too well, something wasn't right.
But what?
Potter Mansion...
Harry flipped through most of the normal stuff. There were bombings, shootings, fires, a small earthquake, flooding, storms, and other natural events. He did note that there were some odd things that Dobby managed to get a hold of. There were bombings of government buildings here and there, some prominent banks were robbed, some failing companies suddenly seemed to have astounding success, and some unsolved murders and assassinations of prominent government and corporate officials all over Europe.
There was something about some of the things he had taken out of the journal that did not make sense. Harry had this gut feeling that they were connected, perhaps through the Dark Order. He would have to check the Guide, the name he had given to the book that knew a lot more than he did and also had told him to do things that were very benificial.
He was still unsure as to who had sent the book, but he would eventually find out. Somehow. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind.
Harry needed to think on the present first. He had to connect the pieces, fill in the blanks, and put together another plan on saving the world. But then a question surfaced on his mind that troubled him greatly.
Should he ask for help?
Sure, he was stronger, faster, smarter, and more knowledgeable, but in the end, he was still only one man. One wizard, who was supposed to make a difference, but how much of a difference could he make if he stood alone?
His mind churned that question, trying to find an answer, but he was unsure. He had worked with others in the last war, with friends and allies, but every loss was a blow to him. Every death, every injury, he blamed on himself. It was something that could have been avoided had he been doing it all on his own.
The long, sleepless nights that had kept him awake all those years ago came back to the surface. The faces of all those who had died because of his inability to protect them all, because of his weakness.
Harry shook his head, chastising himself for suddenly thinking that way. What was he thinking? They had helped him, they had wanted to help him, and they had known the risks. They knew the consequences of what they were doing, and yet they still did it, not only because they wanted to help him, but because they wanted to help protect themselves and their families.
To them, dying was no problem, as long as they died for a better tomorrow. As long as their sacrifice was for something, that their sacrifice would eventually help destroy the darkness that had threatened to consume them all. Harry still had not come to terms with that fact.
Even throughout his journeys, all through the years, he kept a little piece of the nightmares that had plagued him during the war. All the faces of the dead. Friends and unfamiliar faces haunted him, tortured him, in the safety of his own bed. Yet what had he done to stop them? Nothing. He welcomed the nightmares with open arms.
It was his penance. The punishment he had to pay for not being fast enough to help a friend who had fallen, for not being smart enough to see that there was another group of Death Eaters lying in wait during an attack, for not being strong enough to fight Voldemort sooner and end the war faster.
He looked out the window of his study, the sun shining high overhead, as if to mock him. The trees were swaying in the breeze, the grass bright green, and the sky wondrously clear. Perhaps it was a sign of how things would turn out, but then again Harry never really believed in those things.
He sighed, clearing his thoughts once more. He would ask the opinion of the others later, knowing that he was in way too deep, and even with all his experience, he would need help. Pausing for a moment to consider what he had just thought, about asking for help from the portraits on the matter, made him see that maybe, just maybe, he would need help in this war after all.
Dark Order factory, somewhere in Sweden...
Kingsley ducked as bullets thudded into the concrete wall behind him. The muggles were proving to be more of a nuisance than he thought. There were few remaining dark wizards in the warehouse now, but those who were still alive were putting up a strong fight. They too were trained well.
"Second floor catwalk!" yelled one of the operatives on Kingsley's team.
Another operative responded to the call by blasting the catwalk with an explosive spell, sending shards of metal ripping into machinery and concrete. Thick smoke enveloped the middle of the warehouse, where one of the chimneys had broken and one of the large machines had exploded.
They were creating weapons here, muggle weapons, but not only guns, swords and armor too. At least in this warehouse they were, Kingsley was still unsure of what the other warehouse was making, since he had a feeling they were making different things. The other group there had no idea, and had not time to look, because they were hard-pressed to fight off the Dark Order members that were in there.
"Ah!" cried one of the operatives, falling to his side and clutching at his thigh. A bullet had ricocheted off a metal pipe and had embedded itself into the witch, who gasped in pain but remained calm.
Jacob sprinted towards the fallen witch, whose name was Helen, and quickly removed the bullet and healed the wound with a few waves of his wand. He helped her up and they were back in the fight.
There were about four, maybe five, enemies left in the warehouse. They were forced to kill three, but managed to subdue two earlier in the fighting. Now Kingsley was on the brink of ordering a mass assault on their fixed positions because they were only muggle soldiers left, save for one lone wizard who was keeping two operatives at bay with sporadic curses.
Kingsley motioned for Jacob to flank the wizard to the left while Kingsley moved in from the right. At his signal, the two operatives that were pinned down returned the favor by sending a barrage of spells and curses back at the wizard. The man's shields were strong and held firm while the other spells impacted on the thick steel machine that he was half hiding behind.
He yelled obscenities at them and taunted them, making Kingsley shake his head and smile for in a flash, he and Jacob had sent stunning spells at the wizard, but the angle at which they had sent them made the man's body spin in the air and Kingsley heard a faint cracking sound.
He winced, hoping that he hadn't broken the man's neck, not that he really cared, but he could still hold some information that would be useful. With that last wizard down, Kingsley gave the order to storm the muggles who were holed up on the second floor.
They had lost one operative, Bill Grimmauldie, during the initial firefight. Multiple bullet wounds and a curse that blasted off his left arm and shoulder had brought him down. Anton had promised revenge on behalf of his fallen teammate and had made good on his promise by stunning two enemies and killing one.
In a matter of minutes, the muggles who were left were mostly dead, save one who managed to survive the sudden ferocious attack. Kingsley felt good about that. The muggles were still a little inferior to them, at least from what he had seen.
"Lion and Fox groups, what's your status?" he asked, using the pendant.
"Lion group is having difficulty in the first warehouse, sir. Lost two operatives already and encountering heavy resistance. The large machinery here and the tight spaces are making it difficult to advance. Need support."
"Fox group has control of the administration building, no losses. Sending over support to Lion group," said Queren, leader of Fox group. He was a tall, thin, but lean man. Queren was sharp, a great tactician, and was also a tough fighter.
"Good job Fox group, send some operatives to gather up all the prisoners in the courtyard, that'll be our rally point before we extract," he called over the pendant-line. He smiled at that, he would have to find a name for their communications system. "I'll call in for the cavalry once we have warehouse one under control."
Kingsley told his men to gather all the unconscious enemy troops and instructed them to bring the men to the middle of the courtyard. He nodded to Anton and then left to go outside while they finished up inside.
He set up a barrier around the middle of the courtyard so that no snow or wind could penetrate it. He stepped into the barrier and the sudden change in his surroundings disoriented him for a moment. There was still snow falling heavily all around, but it was not going into the bubble.
He proceeded to round up those who were still unconscious outside. He saw that there was an operative up on the roof of the second warehouse, levitating the two muggles up there down to the ground. Another operative had taken up a position outside and was moving all the bodies to the rally point that he had created.
"We have control of warehouse one!" a voice yelled triumphantly into his ear, making him jump a little. He would have to get used to that.
"Good job everyone, get packed up and good to go, I'll call in the DMLE for extra support to sweep the area once we're done collecting our prisoners. They can look for any hard evidence over the wreckage, our work here is done," he told them, sighing with relief as he took out a small orb from his pocket.
It quickly enlarged itself to the size of a basketball, but it was weightless so he did not notice it much. Tapping the ball with his wand, thick green smoke circled around inside of it before a face appeared. It was Edward Jones, head of the DMLE.
"Kingsley? How'd the raid go?" he asked seriously, a little worry on his face.
"Good, minimal losses. We could use some help right about now, if you could spare some. I need a little more manpower to comb the place and my men need rest after a hard days work," he said, smiling.
Ed nodded, cracking a grin too, "I'll send a sweep team over. Is it open to apparition or portkey?"
"Just about to open her up."
"Good, they'll be there in no time then. Hang tight."
Kingsley thanked him and then tapped the orb with his hand. It floated up in the air and started to glow orange. A wave of orange light suddenly exploded outward from it, showing that it had destroyed the anti-apparition ward. The orb then turned blue, signaling that it was acting as a homing beacon that could be traced by the Ministry's portkey creators.
Within five minutes, the DMLE sweep team had arrived. Twenty-five aurors that were trained in sweeping any place for files, clues, and any information. They would also document the location for future reference with photos and reports. Kingsley assigned Fox group to assist them, since they had no losses, and sent Lion back to ASF HQ to rest and heal.
His own group he sent, along with the prisoners, to the special prison that was constructed specifically for the use of the ASF. It was an underground facility under heavy wards and protective spells, in addition to the fidelius charm. Only those that were told by Kingsley of its whereabouts would know where it was and would be able to see it.
They had captured a total of twenty-two Dark Order soldiers, a great feat considering that it was the first true test of the ASF. They pulled through almost immaculately, losing only four operatives.
The leader of the sweep team and Queren, Fox group's leader, came over to him.
"Sweep in progress?" he asked the sweep team leader, who gave the affirmative, however obvious the answer was. "Good. Queren, I want you to stay and support the sweep team until they pull out of here. Once you're done here, I want you to destroy the place."
"Destroy it, sir?" asked the sweep leader.
Kingsley nodded, "Wipe it off the map. They won't be needing it, and we won't either."
Author's Notes: It's been a while.