A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.
SEVENTEEN
Northern Sahara, North African League Occupied Territory
Forty six kilometers west of Britannian-North African frontlines
March 27, 2005
The North African League patrol consisted of four four-wheeled drive vehicles, two of which had a mounted heavy machinegun on their roof and the other two had a small caliber anti-tank rifle swinging from an exposed mount. The patrol had fourteen men, all heavily armed with small arms that the North African League had purchased from the Soviet Union some sixty years prior to the start of the conflict.
It was not a particularly heavily armed patrol, but it was also not a lightly armed patrol, and was standard for patrolling through contested but relatively secured areas. In fact, none of the fourteen men that were part of the patrol thought it likely that they are going to be jumped by Britannian soldiers while they were conducting their patrol.
By contrast, the Britannian unit that had been observing them while hiding behind a small outcropping of rock numbered ten men, one rifle section, one heavy weapons section and two relatively junior officers who are supposed to be in command of them including one Sub-Lieutenant Harry Potter.
The small Britannian unit had chosen an outcropping of rocks perched in the perfect position where the paved road built by the Holy Empire as the occupier of Egypt veer off from a perfectly straight alley, as if avoiding the outcropping. The effect was that the patrolling trucks would at least slow down in order to negotiate the right – almost ninety degree – turn to the side. It was the perfect ambush position, and not one of the marines did not openly wonder if the road was designed to be built that way exactly as a defensive measure when Britannia planned for the highway.
Between the ten men, they have seven assault rifles, three machineguns, two of them medium, and a whole cache of fragmentation grenades that might cause some damage when used in an interior setting, and the featureless flat terrain that the unit now found them is the complete opposite of an interior setting.
Nevertheless, Lieutenant Richardson, in command of the unit that was supposed to be doing reconnaissance work deep behind enemy lines, was determined to ambush the enemy patrol, which is why the ten man unit was hiding behind the small outcropping with their personal weapons at the ready rather than trekking through an alternate route that Harry had suggested the moment that their perimeter guard had reported the approaching dust.
The ten man unit from Marine Force Recon had been inserted via parachute. One of the transport planes from the local transport squadron attached to the Eight Army had lent them a transport plane. It was the first time for Harry to jump off of a perfectly good airplane – not that he had jumped off a bad one, in any case – and it was a night jump, but Lieutenant Richardson would not have it any other way.
Harry also suspected that the marine lieutenant was not thrilled with the prospect of having Harry on his team, and that led Harry to believe that the Lieutenant would be even more angry when he learns that the mission of this unit was not to locate and destroy North African League supply caches as they had been led to believe, but rather, they are tasked with determining if there is any truth in the rumors that the North African League indeed had a mage unit on the field and, if so, where it is.
Harry turned his attention toward his right where the marine lieutenant was crouching, his elbows perched on an unstable looking rock as his hands supported the binoculars that the lieutenant had been using to mentally count down the approaching patrol. Beyond the lieutenant, in a single file, crouched the rest of the marines, and none of whom had nervous looks on their faces. On the contrary, each one of them looked as if they relished the fact that they are about to engage in a firefight.
'It's not as if we had been ordered not to engage in a firefight,' Harry thought as he returned his attention on the rifle that he had been issued prior to being deployed. He would have preferred to jump into combat without the rifle, but the young officer realized that he could not very well depend on his magic alone while in the field, especially considering the fact that none of the men with him right now had been given the clearance to know about magic.
It was irritating, but Harry would have to play the part of a regular sailor for the foreseeable future. It was a good thing, however, that he had been trained on how to use this particular rifle model – and many other rifle models – when he was still studying at the Naval Academy.
At just twenty five inches long, the AR22 is the standard issue assault rifle of the Holy Empire of Britannia, with both the Imperial Ground Forces and the Imperial Fleet using them in addition to a number of other local and national law enforcement agencies all around the Holy Empire. The weapon is a bull-pup configuration assault rifle that fires a medium caliber – five point seven millimeter – bullet at around nine hundred rounds per minute sustained. Fed from a fifty-round box magazine mounted at the top of the weapon, the rifle is ergonomically designed and with spent shell casing being ejected downwards, it requires no field maintenance in order for it to be used by left-handed shooters.
The sounds of the diesel engines of the approaching patrol vehicles tore Harry out of his reverie and he focused on the present. Without being told, he pulled the charging handle of his weapon, chambering one round and aligning the same with the barrel. With that simple action, Harry was ready to fire his weapon in actual combat for the first time, but Lieutenant Richardson did not give the signal. Instead, the marine officer allowed the four patrol vehicle to actually move past the rocky outcropping where the ten of them were hidden.
For a few moments, Harry wondered if the lieutenant had changed his mind about attacking the patrol, but with a simple movement from the lieutenant, Harry instantly discounted the idea. Harry was reminded of the original plan of the lieutenant when one of the marines broke cover.
The marine in question brought himself up to full height as he stood from the outcropping – though that was not a problem with concealment since the patrol had already moved past them – with a tube mounted on his right shoulder. The marine tracked the last vehicle on the North African column for a few moments, but once he was sure that he was going to score a hit, he pressed the tiny – well, tiny compared to the size of the weapon – red button on one side of the tube.
The smoke and back blast produced when the anti-tank weapon known as the AT-6 was fired was an advertisement on the location of the man firing the weapon. It was also considerable enough that in infantry school, Britannian recruits were taught that the man firing the weapon should not only be ready to scoot after he had fired the weapon but also to make sure that there was no one behind him when he fires the same.
For all those shortcomings, however, the AT-6 is a formidable weapon in its own right. Its unguided projectile is not large enough to be able to defeat the armor of a modern main battle tank, but at eighty four millimeters, the weapon could defeat the armor of an infantry fighting vehicle or even a second rate main battle tank – such as the ones being used by the North African League. It was more than enough to turn the last patrol vehicle in the column into a fireball for a few moments before it became a blackened pile of charred metal mixed in with the acrid smell of burning flesh.
The sound of small arms fire was quick to follow the explosion of the last vehicle. The Britannian marines had three machineguns with them including two medium caliber weapons that could be used to pin down the surviving North African League soldiers. At the same time, Lieutenant Richardson and a few of the marines broke cover in order to cross the road. The lieutenant took the one light machinegun that the unit had with him and Harry was quick to realize that the lieutenant was trying to set up another firing position at the other side of the road.
The opposing soldiers, though surprised by the sudden ambush, were not amateurs. They took some time in order to recover from the surprise, but after they expended that precious time, they began to fire back. The last vehicle in the column was one of the two carrying a heavy machinegun on its roof. It would have given the North Africans an advantage with its heavy rapport and ability to suppress the small Britannian unit. They still have one of those, and though two would be better, having one is better than nothing.
It was obvious that one of the North African soldiers realized this, and said soldier quickly opened the cupola on the roof of one of the two vehicles, obviously with the intention of manning the rather large machinegun on the roof. Harry was quick to deal with him though, and the young sub-lieutenant picked off the unfortunate North African soldier with a quick three-round burst from his rifle.
The man fell forward, half of his body still inside the truck. The position meant that unless one of the men inside the truck would pull down the body, the cupola where the heavy machinegun was positioned is useless.
It was the first kill of Harry, and he found himself not even thinking about it – well, aside from the fact that he realized that it was the first man that he had killed in his lifetime. He shrugged it off to the adrenaline rush running through his body and suspected that he would be thinking about it after this firefight was over and done with. It was not something that he was particularly looking forward to though.
Harry turned his attention toward the group that Lieutenant Richardson had taken with him. The five marines had nearly made it to the ditch on the side of the road, but they had to hit the paved asphalt before they could do so when one of the North African soldiers tossed a grenade toward them from behind the door of one of the patrol vehicles. The grenade landed a few feet to the side of the fire team and exploded a few moments later. Shrapnel scythed through the air almost immediately after the grenade exploded, and Harry knew that that was the reason why Lieutenant Richardson and his marines hit the dirt.
After the explosions, however, Lieutenant Richardson was quick to exhort his men back to their feet so that they could run to the ditch on the side of the road. Harry watched as the lieutenant and his fire team practically threw themselves into the side of the road in order to avoid the lethal fusillade of bullets that were on their way.
By this time, the sounds of the North African weapons are drowning out the sounds of the Britannian weapons, though the Britannian marines are, by no means, silenced. It was just that the larger caliber of the North African guns is noisier than the relatively small caliber rounds that the Britannians were using.
They were also organizing, and Harry knew that he could not allow that to happen since it was obvious that the North African soldiers still outnumber them. In any case, Lieutenant Richardson and his fire team are now separate from the unit that Harry has and though the lieutenant had picked a perfect position in order to divide the attention of the enemy, the lieutenant and his fire team was still not ready to support.
Biting back a curse, Harry brought the stock of his assault rifle against his shoulder and joined the four men of his fire team at laying down suppressive fire against the North Africans. This does not appear to be succeeding much, however, and every now and then, Harry would hear a sharp hissing sound near him, the sound of one of the bullets fired from the guns of one of the soldiers on the other side hitting something too close for comfort to Harry.
A quick dash of movement on one side of the North African line caused Harry to turn his attention there and this time, he did curse. Four North African soldiers had detached themselves from their main firing line and one of them grabbed a hand grenade from his combat webbing. Even more disturbing was the fact that this detached fire team was setting up opposite the position of Lieutenant Richardson and his fire team who was still not up and firing.
Harry spared the man who was supposed to be commanding the unit just a second or two of concern before he returned all of his attention on the situation in front of him. at almost the exact moment that he did, Lieutenant Richardson and his fire team finally reentered the action, stomping their presence with the chainsaw sound one usually associates with the firing of a machinegun.
From his position, however, neither Lieutenant Richardson nor any other man in his fire team could see the detached North African fire team that Harry had seen. Harry watched while firing his weapon as the North African soldier that he had earlier marked pull the safety pin on his grenade. It was obvious that the man intended to toss the fragmentation grenade at the direction of Lieutenant Richardson and his fire team, though at the distances involved, the grenade would probably land in the no-mans land between the two forces.
Harry, however, had a better idea. As soon as the North African soldier pulled his right hand in preparation to toss the grenade, Harry fired a quick burst with his assault rifle. The distance involved meant that the man was actually just a few milliseconds away from letting the grenade fly, but he was too late.
He grunted in pain as his knees gave way, and the grenade – with its safety pin pulled out of the firing mechanism – was still in his hand. Even a post-battle autopsy would not be able to identify properly where the rounds from the rifle of Harry hit the man, because just a second or two after he fell to the ground, the grenade in his hand exploded, causing shrapnel to scythe through the air around him.
Two of the remaining three men in the detached unit died five seconds after the explosion as a result of the shrapnel, while the remaining one other was wounded and also fell to his feet before another quick burst from the assault rifle of Harry ended his suffering.
Unsure of how many men were left in the ranks of the other side, Harry returned his attention toward the direction of the main body of the North African soldiers. By this time, the North Africans were hunkering down behind their vehicles, occasionally venturing from their cover for three to four seconds in order to fire a quick burst with their assault rifles before hunkering back down. It was obvious that they had switched tactics when their detached fire team was destroyed. Their method of firing, however, meant that they could not hit a barn side, but it advertised the tactic that the North Africans had decided to use.
Aside from conserving their ammunition as they are only firing a quick burst and even then, infrequently, the North Africans were obviously waiting for reinforcements. They may have summoned them via radio or the reinforcements might be another patrol heading their way, either way, Harry knew that they could not let the enemy reinforcements reach them before they finish this encounter.
A good one hundred feet away from where Harry and his fire support team were still firing at the direction of the North Africans, Lieutenant Richardson agreed, but he could not communicate his intention to attack as he has no radio – after all, his unit only has one radio and while he has it, Harry and the fire support team does not have one.
Biting back a curse, the lieutenant decided that he does not have a choice, though he did say a quick prayer and hope that Harry would get what he wanted to get without being told of it. The Force Recon officer does not trust Harry, at least, not when it comes to this. With no other options available, however, and with time running out – though he does not know how fast that time would run out – he was forced to make a decision.
"Stay here and provide covering fire, just in case," Lieutenant Richardson instructed the marine who was operating the squad automatic weapon. The marine private nodded his acknowledgement of the order at the same time that he fired a quick burst toward the direction of the North Africans. It was not meant to hit anybody, rather, it was meant to ensure that the North African League soldiers stay hunkering behind their vehicles.
The heavy sound of the medium caliber machineguns from the position of the fire support team was also encouraging.
"Let's hope the sub-lieutenant and the support team keeps the enemy hunkering down long enough for us to get into position," Lieutenant Richardson said. He quickly signaled to the three other men in the fire team to follow him before he advanced forward slowly, using the ditch as a means of concealment to cover the movement of him and his men.
Harry was quick to see the plan of Lieutenant Richardson even though he was not told of it. Harry had seen the lieutenant – purely by accident – as the lieutenant led his men forward. This was despite the fact that the lieutenant and his people tried to remain concealed behind the ditch. It just so happened that the lieutenant crouched too high at one point while he was creeping up and Harry saw that.
"Okay," Harry said. He turned toward his machinegun operators and said, "the lieutenant is planning something, let's keep the other side hunkering down behind their trucks long enough for the lieutenant to spring whatever it is that he is planning on doing."
"You already know what he is planning to do, don't you, sir?" one of the marines asked Harry before the steady beat of the machinegun drowned out any sound in the area.
Harry did not nod, because while he suspected what the lieutenant was planning, he was not actually sure. From the way that the lieutenant was moving, Harry guessed that the man had two options. He could move closer toward the North Africans and lob a few grenades at them then mop up the remaining resistance or the lieutenant could opt for the suicide approach and actually charge the North Africans with gun blazing.
Having been assigned to this unit just a few days prior to this deployment, Harry was not sure of the real personality of the marine force recon commander, though Harry was going to bet that the lieutenant would chose the latter option.
Harry was quickly proven right when not even three minutes later, Lieutenant Richardson and three other Britannian marines emerged from behind the ditch with their guns blazing. The position of the ditch meant that the lieutenant was perpendicular to where the North Africans are, and because of the heavy fire coming from the position of Harry, the North Africans were focused there, completely missing the fact that a detached force of Britannian marines had already moved behind them.
After that, it did not even take five minutes for Lieutenant Richardson and his marines to mop up.
Temporary Headquarters, Imperial Grand Fleet
Gibraltar, Holy Empire of Britannia
March 27, 2005
Admiral Cline returned the salute that the sailor that was on guard at the door offered him, but the chief-of-staff of Lord Alexander actually paused for a few moments before he nodded to the other guard to open the double doors enough to allow Admiral Cline to pass through.
The chief-of-staff carried with him a brown manila envelope that their intelligence people had given to him just ten minutes prior. Inside the envelope, Admiral Cline could confirm the intelligence that the Prussian Empire is, at the very least, aware of the existence of the North African League mage corps, though Admiral Cline was prepared to bet that the intelligence could further be refined to provide undoubted proof that the Prussians instigated that corps.
Admiral Cline stepped across the threshold and into the relatively large room, though hall would probably be a more apt term for it. Built to colonial standards, the hall was the centerpiece of the colonial building located just a kilometer away from the waters of the Straits of Gibraltar that Lord Alexander had chosen as the temporary headquarters of the Grand Fleet. No one, not even Admiral Cline himself, knew when Lord Alexander intends to make the headquarters permanent, or even if the General-Admiral intended for the building to be the headquarters at all.
That, however, was not the reason that Admiral Cline was here, and was disturbing a planning session that he was not supposed to be a part of because despite his high rank, Admiral Cline is technically outside the chain of command of the Grand Fleet.
Admiral Cline could see everyone inside the room, the senior officers of the fleet – minus the officers who had to be left behind in the British Isles to cover Britain in the absence of Lord Alexander and the majority of the fleet – and they are huddled with each other near a table, with Lord Alexander at the head of the table. From this distance, it was not easy for Admiral Cline to actually hear what the General-Admiral was saying – or to actually see what was on the surface of the table where the officers are gathered – but he suspected that it may have something to do with the operations of the Grand Fleet in the coming days.
Already, the Grand Fleet had initiated a series of patrols using their cruisers into the Mediterranean, and though the patrols are originally meant to be a show of force, the cruisers have been encountering – mostly civilian, though – North African League traffic and dealing with them. The patrolling cruisers had also turned back more than two dozen Prussian ships that are attempting to enter the North African League, though because of neutrality laws, the fleet could not confirm the suspicions of Lord Alexander that the Prussians are supplying the North Africans.
The patrols do keep the cruisers at their toes and Admiral Cline could identify the three cruiser commanders of the Grand Fleet – Admiral Cyrus Brendan, commander of the Grand Fleet's armored cruiser divisions, Admiral Adrian Byron, commander of the heavy cruisers, and Admiral Jonathan Philip Chadwick, commander of the light cruisers – closest to Lord Alexander.
Still, every senior commander in the Grand Fleet was conferring with their General-Admiral, and that could only mean that Lord Alexander is planning a major move with the majority of the ships of his fleet. With the nearest North African League position just across the straits, a quick strike could be the order for the day, though with the intelligence that Admiral Cline was about to give the General-Admiral, perhaps even that quick strike would have to be postponed so that the High Admiral could reevaluate his options.
Admiral Cline resumed his walk toward where the senior officers of the fleet had gathered, and as he approached, not only did the topic of the conversation became clearer to the chief-of-staff of Lord Alexander, the suspicion of Admiral Cline as to what was on the surface of the table where the senior officers are huddled together became clearer.
With more than twenty five years experience as a navy officer, and with ten of those as chief-of-staff to Lord Alexander, Admiral Cline could easily identify the markers that were on the map, and from the way that the markers were positioned, the suspicion of Admiral Cline was verified. Lord Alexander was planning something big, and he had the appropriate markings for his battleship and battlecruiser divisions – the strongest element of his fleet – on the map to prove it.
The General-Admiral also appeared to be enthusiastic about the plan, and he was animated as he continued to explain his plan of attack, but Admiral Cline decided to interrupt that. Snapping his heels together and causing a sound as his dress shoes hit each other, Admiral Cline brought himself up to full attention before he saluted a second later.
The sound of the traditional salute caused Lord Alexander – indeed, all of the senior officers of the fleet – to turn his attention toward the direction of the sound. The sight of his chief-of-staff behind him caused the Archduke of England to momentarily close his eyes and shake his head, but Lord Alexander knew that Admiral Cline would not dare disturb this planning session – even though he had been invited to join the planning session but refused the request on account of technicalities – for no reason.
If it had been otherwise, Lord Alexander would have long replaced him with someone far more competent.
"Admiral Cline," Lord Alexander said, he casually returned the salute of his chief-of-staff though did so in such a way that still advertised the fact that the High Admiral is a career military officer, "I am assuming that this is not a social call?"
"Hardly, sir," Admiral Cline replied. He paused for a few moments in order to use his peripheral vision to confirm that the only ones in the hall are the senior commanders of the fleet – those who automatically have clearance to the intelligence that Admiral Cline was about to present – and once he was sure of that fact, he returned his full attention toward Lord Alexander and said at the same time that he handed the envelope to Lord Alexander, "We have credible proof that the Prussian Empire is, at the least, aware of the existence of the North African League mage corps, though this evidence would seem to suggest that they are part of its inception, at worst, this intelligence would indicate that the Prussians were the ones who asked the North African League to make the North African unit in the first place."
Lord Alexander had a look on his face that few men had seen there before, and only those who had truly served with the man would know the look on his face. Admiral Cline – as well as a handful of the men that were in the room with them – was one of those who were well aware of what the look on the face of Lord Alexander meant.
The General-Admiral was disturbed by the intelligence that his chief-of-staff had just delivered, but if Admiral Cline was being honest with himself, that was the reason that he had delivered the intelligence in the first place.
Lord Alexander opened the envelope the moment that he relieved it from the hand of Admiral Cline, but the General-Admiral did not yet took the pieces of intelligence inside the envelope, rather, he had his attention toward Admiral Cline and he asked, "Who else knows about this?"
"Intelligence and the two men who had sent the photos to them and instigated this whole thing," Admiral Cline replied, and at the unspoken question of Lord Alexander – 'who were the men who had instigated this whole thing?' – Admiral Cline added, "Colonel Carleton and Sub-Lieutenant Potter, sir."
"Harry is not going to up-channel this unless he is sure of what he had seen," Lord Alexander said. This time, the Archduke did take the photos out of the envelope. To him, there was nothing out of the ordinary, until his gaze turned toward one of the men that was in the picture. It helped that intelligence – or someone – had used a red marker to encircle the man.
Over the years, the number of immigrants and emigrants – as well as naturalization and other process to acquire citizenship – had diluted the gene pool of every country in the world. It was no longer possible to ascertain the nationality of a person based on how he looks, but the man that had his figure encircled in the picture was undoubtedly Prussian.
Not only did his uniform give him away, Lord Alexander realized that he had seen the man before, and at that, his mind returned to ten years ago at a castle in Scotland where the children of suspected magical separatist – 'really, suspected?' Lord Alexander thought, 'they fled the British Isles, is that not enough evidence to prove that they are separatist?' – had threatened him and his wife with their wands before the Oath forced them to stand down.
"One of their numbers was killed that day," Lord Alexander commented, it was a comment that caught some of his officers by surprise, but a comment that caused Admiral Cline to nod.
"A Gregory Goyle, I believe, sir," Admiral Cline replied, before he added in response to the surprised look on the face of Lord Alexander, "I checked the reports and files that we had when I realized that I had seen this man before, sir."
"Just because they threatened me and Lady Emma before does not make them Prussian, Admiral Cline," Lord Alexander said. He flipped through the next photo in the series and found the familiar man standing on top of an elevated platform, evidently watching maneuvers, "What we do know is that Dumbledore and his cohorts fled to the Scandinavian Union, this lot may as well have fled there."
Admiral Cline understood that Lord Alexander was not doubting his intelligence, what the General-Admiral was doing was covering his bases, and asking the questions that Admiral Cline knew almost every senior officer of the fleet wanted to ask.
Admiral Cline was sure of that because the man in the picture was wearing the uniform of a Prussian Kaiserliche Marine commander. The other officers in the room could not see the picture.
"The uniform, sir," Admiral Cline replied, "Is the standard uniform of a Prussian commander, in fact, sir," the admiral added, "In the next photograph, he is facing the camera, please note the insignia on his left breast pocket."
Lord Alexander turned to the next picture and nodded, "Teutonic Knight," Lord Alexander said. That alone would have identified the man as Prussian. Of course, it would also seem to confirm the earlier allegation that the Prussians organized the North African mage corps.
For decades, Britannian Intelligence has speculated that the Teutonic Knights not only perform the same duties as the Britannian Imperial Knights, they are also the same as the Imperial Knights, meaning, their ranks are actually recruited from mages that are part of their military.
"I would need to speak with Colonel Carleton, Sub-Lieutenant Potter, and the man who had taken these pictures," Lord Alexander suddenly said before he stuffed the photographs back into the envelope, "I would have wanted Hermione to confirm since she went to school with this man but she and Emma are supposed to be meeting with the Spanish Foreign Minister and could not be disturbed," he shook his head, "Ready the Iron Duke and his escorts, I would be travelling to the front."
"Sir..," Admiral Dalton suddenly said.
Lord Alexander silenced him with a single motion of his hand, "I am in command of the theater and I am yet to see the front," he said, "This is the perfect opportunity for the same."
"In my absence," Lord Alexander continued, "Admiral Dalton, per our hierarchy, you have command of the fleet in Gibraltar in my absence, but the standing cruiser patrols are to be maintained," he smiled slightly, before he added, "Specially now when we may have enough evidence to drag the Prussian Empire into this mess we are dealing with."
Northern Sahara, North African League Occupied Territory
Approximately Sixty kilometers west of Britannian-North African frontlines
March 27, 2005
The supply dump was located in the middle of nowhere but Harry supposed that the fact that is located in the middle of nowhere was the reason that this site was chosen in the first place. Reconnaissance over flights would have spotted the dump, so Harry was forced to conclude that the North Africans did not intend to keep this one particular dump up and running indefinitely.
After a brief firefight with the North African soldiers defending the dump – and it was a brief one, the seemingly new recruits started throwing their weapons and running away the moment that they realized that the Britannians had taken the vehicles of one of their patrolling columns and was now firing at them – Harry and the marine force recon team was easily able to deal with the padlocks and the chains that kept the precious supplies in the crates away from the hands of marauders and the soldiers sent to guard them who would most likely be the first ones to steal them.
The contents of the crates were actually one of the reasons why Harry and Lieutenant Richardson came to the conclusion that the dump was probably going to be emptied soon. The crates contained mostly perishable supplies, ready-to-eat meals accounting for most of the crates, though there are a few crates of bullets, extra fuel cans – mostly unfilled – and some medical supplies. Even more importantly for Harry and the rest of the team, there are some crates that contained explosives, the kind that Britannian behind-the-lines unit are trained to exploit and use for scenarios such as this.
The moment that Harry opened the crates containing the explosives, Lieutenant Richardson had directed his men to start setting them up in and around the perimeter of the supply dump so that they could be used to destroy the concentration of supplies. In the grand scheme of things, destroying this one supply dump would probably not even put a dent in the logistics train of the North African League, but it would still probably be a factor for morale.
Harry and Lieutenant Richardson knew how badly they needed a morale booster at that point, with the forward units of the Eight Army still reeling back from the lightning strikes conducted by the North African League during the first few days of the war. The front had mostly stabilized by now, but having that front held by weakly motivated soldiers could prove to be fatal to the course of the developing war.
While the marines set up the explosives, Harry wandered around the supply dump, trying to concentrate enough to discern if there had been any mages in the area, though the young naval officer seriously doubted that he would find a ping. For one thing, this seemed to be a place as random as any, and for another, he was not actually using his wand to do the job, rather, he had to make do with using his – admittedly – rather good mind skills.
Harry actually heard the footsteps of the approaching marine, but he thought that the man was just rushing back in order to get more explosives. It was not until the man actually spoke that Harry broke his concentration, "Lieutenant," the marine enlisted man said, forcing Harry to turn his attention toward the man with a questioning expression on his face, "LT wants to see you, sir."
Harry nodded at the same time that he unstrapped his rifle from his shoulder. He had slung the assault rifle behind his shoulder the moment that he started walking around the camp because he thought that he would need both hands. When he realized that he could not pull out his wand and not make a scene with the marines, Harry did not even bother to take his rifle back into his hands. He was pretty sure that Lieutenant Richardson was going to make a big deal out of it, after all, the marines live with the credo, 'Every Marine a Rifleman,' with the lieutenant conveniently forgetting the fact that Harry is not a marine.
For a few moments, Harry thought about casting the memory charm on the man – and the enlisted man run toward the direction of where the explosives were, so Harry supposed that the private was actually going to make a run for more explosives before his commanding officer caught up with him – but decided against it. Harry was not sure if he could actually do the memory charm without erasing anything important, and with everything that has been happening, Harry feared that he might erase the knowledge of the marine on how to use North African standard explosives.
Harry found the marine lieutenant inspecting a couple of trucks by the motor pool of the supply dump, and Harry wondered what the man was doing there. When Lieutenant Richardson saw Harry approaching, he waved for the lower-ranking officer to join him, but he did not even bother to wait before he announced his intentions, "I was thinking of taking one of these trucks to make our getaway back to our frontlines," he said.
Harry thought about the suggestion, and though he could not see why the lieutenant would want a new transport, he nodded.
The two patrol vehicles – high mobility vehicles as they are known in Britannia – that brought the marine patrol to his base were still functioning the last time that Harry had checked them. Small but agile and fast, those patrol vehicles could not carry the entire patrol which is the reason why the marines liberated two of them before torching the other one using the grenades of the North African soldiers that the patrol had ambushed earlier.
The truck that the lieutenant was referring to, however, was bigger. Although it would take a negative effect on the agility of the vehicle, it could carry the entire patrol, and it looked as if the truck was also more heavily armed, with two machineguns mounted on it, one on a ring above the cab and another at the cab itself, operated by the person riding shotgun.
"I'll make sure that the tanks are fully loaded and that we would have additional fuel cans in the back just in case," Harry said.
"I've already asked….," the lieutenant began, though before he could finish whatever it was that he wanted to say, he was cut off by an explosion at the far end of the perimeter of the supply dump.
"Explosive detonation?" the lieutenant asked as he and Harry stared toward the direction of where the explosion came from. It was a logical explanation, and Harry was about to silently agree that one of the marines made a mistake and set up the timer on the charges too early. At that moment, however, he caught whiff of a certain something in the air, and the wind was blowing from the direction of where the explosion came from.
"No," Harry said grimly at the same time that he mentally cursed. His mission was to look for the North African mage corps, not the other way around, though it would now seem that the other way around had happened. The North Africans had found him instead of the other way around. The wind carried with it the faintest hint of magic, but Harry was well trained in both the magical division of Olympia Academy and with the Imperial Knights Corps to be able to detect even the faintest hint of expanded magical energy.
The curse that tried – and failed – to escape from the lips of Harry was the result of the realization of the twenty five year old naval officer that he could not fight the North African mages – and he was sure that there was more than one – effectively. Not when the marines of marine force recon are with him.
He would have to find a way to fight back the North African mages, and Harry was sure that the assault rifle that was on his hand was not going to be of much assistance.
Harry realized that he must have looked as if he was stunned by the sudden explosion as he just stood there and silently debated with himself as to his options. He, however, did not even bother to shake himself awake as he turned his attention toward the direction of the explosion. He could see that Lieutenant Richardson had already ordered the two marines who were near them at that moment to accompany him as he charged toward the direction of the explosion.
Frowning slightly – though he was careful that the neither the lieutenant nor the marines would notice, Harry followed them.
There was a breach in the perimeter fence that marked the supply dump, and two of the marines of Lieutenant Richardson lay sprawled on the sandy floor, unconscious from the explosion and, from the look of things, injured.
Of the North African mages that caused the explosion, Harry could detect them from within the perimeter of the dump, but his eyes could not see them, 'Invisibility cloak?' Harry thought, 'disillusionment charm?'
Harry concluded that it was probably the latter rather than the former. Not only are invisibility cloaks as rare in North Africa as they are in the British Isles – perhaps more so because North Africa has no native magical creature that could provide the raw materials required to make the cloak – they would also be ineffective in a situation such as this where there is an abundance of dust in the air.
'Yet I should have seen faint outlines,' Harry thought. He was about to turn his attention on the opposite direction when a flash of red light came streaking toward him. His eyes widened in surprise at the same time that he threw himself to the side. A loud explosion followed, originating from where the jet of red light hit a crate.
His mind working overtime, Harry did not even bother to curse as he brought his rifle to bear toward the direction where the spell fire – and he was sure that it was spell fire, though he was not sure what kind of spell it was – came from. A small part of the mind of Harry told him that he should be using his magic instead of relying with the kinetic power of subsonic armor-piercing rounds, but by the time that that thought reached the true center of the mind of Harry, he had already pulled the trigger of his rifle.
In any case, the burst fire was not meant to hit anything, it was just meant as a form of defiance, so Harry was surprised when there was a sudden grunt that came from the direction where the spell fire came from, followed by blood suddenly flowing from nowhere.
'Well, it appears that even if you have disillusioned yourself, your blood still retains the color red,' Harry thought. The injured North African mage must have noticed that as well, because he quickly cancelled his disillusionment charm – and Lieutenant Richardson and his conscious marines let out a collective breath of shock at the sudden appearance of a man that was not there moments before – before firing a barrage of spells toward Harry.
The first mage was quickly joined by a second who had also deactivated his disillusionment charm. The appearance of two mages, of course, does not mean that there are only two mages in the area, but Harry could be reasonably certain that at the least, if there are other mages in the dump, they would not be able to attack the Britannians from the rear, not while disillusioned at least, because then their own comrades would not be able to see them and thus, risk being hit by friendly fire.
Any further thoughts on the part of Harry had to be curtailed, however, because at that moment, the North Africans began firing back, and this time, they are firing jets of green light, the tell-tale sign of the killing curse.
'They tried to stun us first because they want to capture us,' Harry thought as he motioned for the marines to take cover, 'now that we know who and what they are, they are not going to leave behind any survivors, which means that they also would not be willing to retreat because they have to maintain the statute of secrecy.'
Harry knew that he too would have to maintain the statute, but at that moment, he really did not think that he could. In any case, he was certain that even if Lieutenant Richardson and the other marines were to see him use his magic, he could always just inform them that what they had noticed is classified.
Turning his attention toward where Lieutenant Richardson and the marines had taken cover, Harry could easily discern the confused expression on the face of the marines. It looked almost comical next to their determined expression. The expression on the face of Lieutenant Richardson as he tried to revive the two unconscious marines that he and another marine had dragged with them as they took cover also made the marine commanding officer looked more comical than his subordinates.
'Yeah, that could work,' Harry thought as he grabbed his one remaining fragmentation grenade. With an economy of movement, he removed the safety pin on the can that kept the explosive contained before he tossed it toward the direction of where the two North African mages had taken cover.
Apparently, however, the North African mages are as well aware of non-magical weaponry as they are of magical. It was also obvious that the North African mages are well trained because just as the grenade that Harry tossed arched through the air, it was hit by a jet of red light that came from the position of the two North African mages.
Magic and non-magic are capable of being mixed, but it would take a few minutes – at the least – of preparation. The grenade that Harry tossed had not gone under that and as a result, it exploded in mid-air even before it could hit the ground and caused the kind of damage that it was designed to deal.
Harry, however, expected that. The explosion of the grenade caused black smoke that enveloped the area between where the North African mages are and where Harry and the rest of the team had taken cover. Harry took advantage of the smoke, using it as makeshift cover, he pushed himself up to his feet and charged through the kill zone, covering the fifteen feet that separated the two fighting sides in five seconds.
Harry had expected the North African mages to turn their attention away from the explosion, but he was prepared had that not been the case. All of the preparation, however, turned out to be for naught because the North African mages had turned their attention away from the explosion.
Taking advantage of that fact, Harry easily identified the North African mage that he had shot. With a quick burst from his assault rifle, he ended the suffering of the man.
The other mage was stunned by the move, and Harry also took advantage of that. The young naval officer spun on his heel and by the time that he was once more facing toward the direction of the North African mage, he had his rifle raised high above him, just next to his head.
The requirements of the comfort of the men firing the rifle had necessitated the installation of a cushion on the stock of the AR22, but it could still be used to stun an enemy when used properly. That was exactly what Harry did, or at least, tried to do.
He brought the stock of his rifle hard on the brow of the North African mage, but though the man was obviously hit hard, he remained conscious. Rather than risking another attack like the first one – and giving the North African mage the chance to retake the initiative, Harry quickly drew his wand.
"Stupefy," he intoned. The jet of red light hit the North African mage between his eyes, and those eyeballs promptly rolled up, signifying that the mage was unconscious.
"What the hell just happened?" Lieutenant Richardson suddenly asked even before Harry could let out a sigh of relief.
The young naval officer turned his attention toward the direction of Lieutenant Richardson and mentally cringed when he saw the marine lieutenant staring at him with the other still conscious marines, the look on their face, a look that signaled that they really wanted some answers at that moment.