Chapter 11
As nighttime fell over the vast forest, Roger Cranford arose from the thicket of bushes he had been hiding in, deciding that it was now dark enough to attempt to move again. He couldn't remember much about his plane being shot down, just that his training has prepared him well enough to know how to bail out of the cockpit and activate his parachute. He had landed in a thick wilderness somewhere in the French/German border region, not far from the smoldering wreckage of his plane. Since then he had spent his days sleeping under the protective coverings of the dense plants, and his nights searching for food, and trekking as he used the stars to navigate. Being a in a rural region, he had been lucky enough to come across enough local farms, we he could swipe just enough vegetables to sustain him, but not enough to be noticed.
He wasn't exactly sure where he was, but he figured that if he kept heading west he might eventually reach neutral Spain. He was sure that his polished good looks weren't holding up too well after living off the land and being encased in dirt, but that was obviously the least of his worries at the moment. His main concern was to make progress on his journey and survive another night of evading capture.
As Roger stealthily crawled through the brush, he flattened himself to the ground at the sound of approaching voices. Any Germans in the area would have surely found the wreckage of his plane and would inevitably be looking to capture any surviving pilots. Finally, he allowed himself to sneak a glance at the group of people walking by his position. As he feared, it was a group of men carrying rifles. However, they were all wearing civilian clothes, not the German uniforms he expected, and he could clearly overhear them speaking French. Roger surmised that they were probably French resistance fighters, which would represent his best chance at escaping.
Roger stepped out and revealed himself, raising his arms in the air, as the startled men turned towards him. "Resistance?" he calmly asked them.
"Oui, come with us" their leader answered, motioning for Roger to follow them.
In a close formation, they swiftly made their way through the nearby village until they arrived at a local tavern. The leader of the group, whose name seemed to be Pierre, led them downstairs into a wine cellar, where he pushed aside a large shelf of wine to reveal a hidden entrance. They squeezed their way through the small hidden door and entered a room that was packed completely full with weapons, explosives, communications equipment, and all manner of disguises.
"We have found another one Madame," said Pierre, as Roger soon found himself face to face with the largest woman he had ever seen. She towered over him in height, but had a warm and welcoming expression that made him feel safe.
"Bonjour, my name is Maxime," she greeted him, as Roger shook her hand. "Come with me, we are going somewhere secure."
A cold salty spray filled the air as the enchanted galley sped its way through the frigid waters of the North Sea. Nigel Bromhead steered the boat towards the Norwegian shoreline, feeling a bit queasy as the boat lurched back and forth in the rough waves. As another cold splash of water hit his face, he grumbled to himself that this is why he joined the Army instead of the Navy in the first place.
Dumbledore had decided that it would be wise for at least part of the team to remain on call at Bletchley Park, so Bromhead had been dispatched with only MacDonald and McGonagall to accompany him on this mission. He had previously been convinced that MacDonald and Reynolds were the worst possible pair of people to bring on a mission together, but after enduring a long and arduous boat ride with the two young Scots bickering at each other non-stop, he was convinced otherwise. They had been at each other's throats for hours until they finally felt too seasick to continue. For Bromhead, the sickness was a small price to pay for peace and quiet.
A small sliver of the moon provided the only light on the dark night as the boat beached itself on the shoreline. They left the boat behind and quickly took up positions overlooking the German naval base, trudging through the freshly fallen snow that always seemed to blanket Norway.
After a quick reconnaissance, they concluded that their intelligence assessment had been accurate. There was on submarine moored to the dock, another one receiving repairs in a dry dock, and large sea monster inside a watery pen. Minerva assessed the task, "Just as we discussed, leave the sea monster to me, and everything should go smoothly, provided you can trust Ginger Ponce here to handle explosives."
"That's Corporal Ginger Ponce to you," MacDonald sneered.
"I did not sign up for this," Bromhead grumbled to himself.
As Minerva pulled her wand out of her bag and prepared for the mission, she felt a sudden cold, wet impact as a snowball hit the side of her face. She turned to see MacDonald chuckling to himself. Greatly incensed, she made a snowball of her own and threw it back at him, hitting him square in the face. MacDonald quickly reached for another, and scored another direct hit. This one felt a little bit harder, obviously containing ice, a dangerous escalation. Escalating things further, Minerva incanted, "Glacium Pugnatius!" In response to her spell, a large pile of snow came to life as a snowman, which began to violently pummel MacDonald into submission.
Finally, Bromhead bellowed, "That's enough, both of you!" As they calmed down and looked towards him, he continued his tirade, "In case you forgot, we are on an enemy base in occupied territory, and we have a mission to complete! We can ill afford your juvenile antics!"
Bromhead's rant was enough to put things back in perspective as MacDonald and McGonagall both looked down in embarrassment. "Now shake hands," Bromhead added for good measure.
MacDonald and McGonagall gingerly shook hands, awkwardly avoiding making eye contact. The three then split up and made their way towards the port, sticking to the plan they had drawn up. They had beached the galley within the gated confines of the naval base, so the first obstacle was already cleared. Under the cover of the dark night, they stealthily approached the submarine pens. There were not very many sentries posted, and the ones that were on duty seemed very tired an un-alert. Their complacence was about to be their downfall.
Minerva crouched behind a building for cover as she carefully observed a German guard casually pacing back and forth, his rifle slung low over his shoulder. She carefully aimed her wand and whispered, "Stupefy," as the guard dropped to the ground unconscious. She quickly ran to her next covered position, looking behind her to see Bromhead climbing through the hatch of the submarine that was docked in port, and MacDonald sneaking underneath the other submarine in the drydock, both of them carrying large bags of explosives.
Minerva dodged between buildings, stunning two more guards in the process, before arriving at her target. She walked up to the docks, coming face to face with an enormous sea serpent, which very much resembled the Loch Ness Monster that she dreamed of encountering in her youth. The creature appeared to be sleeping, but it began to stir as she nervously approached it. She had always excelled academically and passed all her NEWTS with flying colors, but nothing she had learned in school had prepared her for this.
As she closed within range to launch her spells, Minerva felt her feet fly out from under her as she slipped on a patch of ice. Her desperate attempts to regain her balance were to no avail, and with a sudden splash she plunged into the icy cold water. The creature let out a loud roar as it stirred to life, aroused from its slumber by the sudden disturbance. The creature thrashed about wildly, swinging its head in Minerva's direction as she treaded water and flailed her arms about, hoping to find something to grab onto. Finally, her left hand caught hold of a rope that was secured to the dock and she was able to stabilize herself. The creature bared its teeth as it stretched its neck back, preparing to strike. With no time to lose, Minerva aimed her wand at its center mass and confidently cast, "Piscifors!"
After suffering a direct hit, the creature reeled backwards, rapidly shrinking until it was at last transformed into a harmless goldfish. Minerva pulled herself out of the water and scooped the fish up into a glass jar, which she securely screwed shut. She then began to quickly run towards the designated rendezvous point.
Awoken by the stirrings of the sea monster, an alert guard had sounded the alarm, and its high pitched wails echoed through the base as the flashing of red lights illuminated the dark night. Minerva encountered Bromhead and MacDonald sprinting towards the beach as the three of them made their way towards the galley. Minerva reached back to cast shield charms as they ran at full speed, half a step ahead of the bullets that were beginning to be fired in their direction by the now fully awake guard force.
Finally, they dove into the galley, which aided by the magical enhancements Athena had installed, was able to launch itself at full speed nearly instantaneously after they were onboard. As they sped away on the cold, dark sea, they looked back to see a massive series of explosions lighting up the sky. The mission had been a success.
It was a time of great change in England when thousands upon thousands of American soldiers began to arrive on their shores, turning much of the countryside into an armed camp. Although the Americans had sat out the first two years of the war, the transatlantic alliance was now in full force. At Bletchley Park, there were new additions as well. Several Americans had joined the ranks of the intelligence community, and a few had even been transferred to Dumbledore's organization.
On the wizard side, there was Benjamin Jefferson Hamilton, a well respected professor at the Salem Witches Institute. He was around Dumbledore's age and had a very similar look, although instead of Dumbledore's flowing blue robes and half-moon glasses, he was much more comfortable in a leather jacket and a cowboy hat. He had a humble, folksy manner, and he implored everybody he met to, "Just call me Benny."
On the Muggle side, Joe Spinelli, an officer in the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), America's newly formed intelligence agency, was going to be joining the squad. He had risen from his humble origins in South Philadelphia to earn admittance to Princeton. When the war broke out, he joined the Army as a paratrooper, but was then quickly recruited for the OSS.
Somewhat to the chagrin of Daisy and Lydia, there were American women serving in administrative roles as well, one of whom had been placed in their department. They shared a disproving glance as they heard the unmistakable sound of the clicking of high heels on the ground that signaled the approach of their new colleague, Jane Fairfield.
Jane's blonde hair was even more fashionably done than Lydia's, and she wore a designer ensemble that probably cost more than Daisy or Lydia made in a year. "This estate is so quant that it's charming," Jane announced rather loudly, "But how do I get to London, I'm going to need some quality shopping soon."
"You take the train, there's a station right down the road," Lydia informed her curtly.
"Ugh, train rides are so dreadful," scoffed Jane, "I'm sorry, when I'm at my Manhattan penthouse everything is nearby and I have my own driver, this is going to take some getting used to."
Daisy and Lydia rolled their eyes, disgusted at her pretentiousness. Jane then pulled up a chair to sit near Daisy and Lydia and engage them in a friendly manner, which seemed to make them dislike her even more.
"So girls, you have to tell me; how do you manage to concentrate when you're surrounded by eligible British gents all day? Like that Lieutenant Evans, can you say fit?" Jane prodded them.
Luckily for Jane she was not making eye contact at the time, because the glare that Daisy shot her may have killed her. Lydia decided to resolve the situation.
"Jane, I need you to route these right now," she said as she handed her a large stack of papers. Jane walked away in a huff, the sound of her heels loudly echoing.
Soon after Jane departed, Joe Spinelli arrived near their desks, impeccably dressed in a three piece suit, and charming everybody with his smile.
"F-I-T," Lydia mouthed to Daisy, who shook her head and laughed.
"So I see you ladies met Jane, lovely person isn't she?" Joe greeted them.
"Well that's one way to put it," said Lydia.
Daisy felt the need to pry, "So Joe, can you tell us how Jane got this assignment in the first place?"
Joe gave her an understanding look, "Well Jane's father is a very influential businessman, and he raised a lot of money for President Roosevelt during the last election."
"That explains everything," Daisy cut him off.
"Joe, you must not know your way around yet, let me show you where everything is," said Lydia as she eagerly got up.
"Wow, everything they said about English hospitality is true," said Joe as her followed her.
Daisy returned to her paperwork, wondering just how much these new arrivals were going to shake things up.
As the winter set in over Leningrad, the city had descended into a cesspool of death and destruction. It had once been known as St. Petersburg, one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, and the seat of the Russian Czars and some of the world's greatest art collections. But now, the war had reduced it to a lethal labyrinth of rubble. The German army, which had moved so rapidly through Russia, had now stalled in a brutal siege of the city, while the Russians inside the city fought dearly for survival.
Andrei Krum snuck through the deadly muddle, knowing that he would probably only get one shot at what he was about to do. He briefly thought about his wife and young children, safely hidden away in Bulgaria. He had felt the temptation to remain in hiding with them and wait out the rest of the war, but he had ultimately convinced himself that the best thing he could do for his children was help make a better world for them to live in.
Finally, he found what he had been looking for; a command car with a small flag on the antennae emblazoned with the Deathly Hallows insignia on one side and the Nazi swastika on the other. Krum silently approached the car, knowing that this would be the best chance he would ever get.
Grindelwald laughed as Landolfo Padovisi shivered in the back seat of the car. "Remind me why we came to Russia in the winter again?" asked the crime lord.
"Ha, you're not in Sicily anymore," Grindelwald reminded him, "Well maybe if you were competent the city would have been secured already. Anyway, I want you to search all the old czar's palaces for artifacts first thing tomorrow…"
As Grindelwald was speaking, a streak of green light shot through the car, shattering the windshield and killing the squib that served as his driver. Landalfo started to get up before Grindelwald stopped him, "I'll handle this."
Grindelwald stepped out of the car and cast a shield charm, which deflected a second incoming killing curse. He looked around and soon spotted his assailant.
"Andrei Krum, you've come all the way from Bulgaria just to try to kill me; I'm almost flattered," Grindelwald said mockingly.
Krum nervously backed up as he cast every charm he could think of, "Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Crucio!"
Grindelwald easily deflected each curse as he calmly walked towards his opponent. "You're brave Krum, I'll give you that," said Grindelwald as he leveled the Elder Wand in Krum's direction.
Krum backed up until he could go no further, and then seemed to accept his fate as he lost his footing.
Grindelwald sneered at him, "But you were very foolish to come here and now you must suffer the consequences… Avada Kedavra!"
Elphias Doge clutched tightly to his broom as he sailed through the air at a high velocity. Benny Hamilton followed closely behind him, his cowboy hat somehow managing to stay on despite the heavy winds. They skillfully maneuvered to maximize their airspeed as they passed over the English Channel en route to their mission.
"So how are things at Salem now anyway?" Doge called back to Benny, struggling to make himself heard over the wind.
"As exciting as it's ever been!" Benny answered him, "The students are really jealous I got to come over here, they're pretty enthusiastic about the war."
"By any chance, is Elizabeth Putnam still teaching there?" Doge prodded.
Benny had a good chuckle, "Yes she is, and she's mad as Hades that you haven't been writing to her."
Doge sighed to himself, wondering why all the foreign women from his youth seemed to be resurfacing now.
They made landfall as they closed in on their objective, the village of Ste. Jean Charlemagne. It was a quaint wizarding community in Northern France that had once been one of the most picturesque holiday destinations for wizards throughout Europe. However, now that France was occupied, it served a completely different purpose. Its shops had been converted to magical factories, producing weapons and equipment for Grindelwald's army.
Finally spotting the town from high above, they pointed their brooms downwards and took as steep dive, stopping to hover just above the tree line.
"Remember, just like we discussed," Doge called out.
Benny nodded as he opened a bag which contained a large quantity of highly explosive erumpent horns. He then launched the bag in the air, sending the horns flying. As they were suspended in midair, Doge and Benny carefully aimed their wands and exclaimed, "Subventum Fragormento!"
Guided by the charm, the erumpent horns carefully aimed themselves into the stores and shops below. A massive ripple of explosions went off in quick succession as much of the town went up in flames. To the delight of Doge and Benny, a massive statue of Grindelwald that had dominated the town square came toppling over.
Satisfied with the destruction they had wrought and the much needed supplies they had deprived Grindelwald of, Doge and Benny turned their brooms away, making a clean escape before anybody below had a chance to react.
"…And that is why baseball is the best sport in the world," said Spinelli with his trademark smile as he and Evans waited outside on the lawn of Bletchley Park.
Evans had been convinced by Spinelli's eloquent speech that baseball certainly had some strong merits, but he still had some objections to raise, "I'll concede your points, but you have to tell me; why do you yanks insist on calling it the World Series when no other countries play?"
Spinelli laughed, "I knew that question was coming, well it's not like I'd know anything about the World Series anyway, I'm a Philadelphia Phillies fan, and they haven't made it that far in my lifetime. It's pretty frustrating, I wish I could stop following them, but they just keep dragging you in."
"Well I'm an Everton supporter, that can't be much better," Evans empathized.
Finally, Dumbledore arrived on the lawn, bearing a large silver plate.
"Dumbledore, did you just win Wimbledon?" asked Evans
Dumbledore grinned, "No I'm afraid tennis has not quite caught on in the wizarding community. Actually this is a port-key; it's a mode of transportation."
"How many modes of transportation do you have?" asked the very incredulous Evans.
"You have seen the major ones by now, "Dumbledore explained, "It's a simple concept; it links two places together, and touching it will transport you to the other place. This particular port-key will bring us to a magical academy in Southern France. An acquaintance of mine there has been sheltering people on the run from Grindelwald, and we are going to evacuate them out of the country."
"Benny explained it all to me on the journey across the pond, it's all really fascinating," Spinelli added.
Dumbledore explained further as Evans eyed the plate apprehensively, "This is a simple evacuation mission, I do not foresee any complications, but we must remain vigilant all the same."
Finally ready to take the plunge, Evans and Spinelli grabbed a hold of the plate along with Dumbledore. They felt a sudden force pulling them against their will as they rapidly spun around in a vortex. Finally, they landed on their feet in an unfamiliar field as a very tall woman was there to greet them.
"Maxime, it's a pleasure as always," Dumbledore greeted her.
"Thank you for coming so quickly, Albus" said Maxime, "Follow me, we must be quick."
They followed Maxime through the perfectly manicured grounds exquisite gardens into a large yellow palace built into a hillside that was known as Beauxbatons Academy. As they walked, Maxime explained to them that Beauxbatons had remained open during Grindelwald's occupation of magical France, but that Muggle-born students were not permitted to remain. Ministry officials, who were now controlled by Grindelwald, visited the school from time to time, but they were usually very easily duped. Under the Ministry's nose, Maxime had become a leader of the resistance movement in France, and was running a major smuggling operation to hide and protect people, wizards and Muggles alike, who were being pursued by Grindelwald or the Nazis.
They walked through several long corridors filled with colorful medieval tapestries and ornate low hanging chandeliers. When they had descend several flights of stairs and walked down a little used corridor near the dungeons, Maxime pressed one of the bricks in the wall, and a secret door slowly swung open. They walked through the door into a large, open room that was filled with tents and cots, housing all manner of people, both wizards and Muggles, military and civilian. The one thing they had in common was that they were all on the run.
Evans followed behind Maxime and Dumbledore and he soon recognized a familiar face.
"Roger, what the hell are you doing here?" he exclaimed.
"I should be asking you the same thing," said Roger as he excitedly greeted his friend. "Seriously John, you would not believe some of the things I've seen."
"Actually, I probably would," Evans responded.
Dumbledore mumbled softly to Maxime, "Were you able to obtain the information I requested?"
Maxime grinned, "Yes I was," as she covertly handed Dumbledore a large envelope.
Dumbledore then walked to the center of the room and announced in a commanding voice, "Greetings friends, I am Albus Dumbledore and I have come to bring you safely out of the country. Please take only what you need and grab hold of this port-key." The crowd of people quickly got up and gathered around Dumbledore as he held out the silver plate.
"What is all this about?" asked Roger.
"I'll explain it all later, just listen to him, mate," Evans assured him.
A few moments later, the large group of around thirty people were yanked through the vortex in unison as they reappeared where they had began their journey, on the grounds of Bletchley Park. Spinelli formed the group into an organized line as Dumbledore quickly arranged to send them to safe places with slightly altered memories. Evans pulled Roger aside as he succinctly explained as much as he could about how he had encountered Dumbledore and the formation of the new organization.
"That's incredible John, I never would have believed it!" Roger explained.
"Oh and I forgot to mention, do you remember Daisy and Lydia? They work here too," Evans added.
"Now that's just ridiculous," said Roger, overwhelmed by the amount of coincidences that had brought them there.
"Yes it certainly is," said Evans with a grin.
"What's that grin for? Don't tell me you and Daisy are seeing each other or something," Roger prodded.
Evans grinned widely, brimming with confidence, "Actually we are. It's really great, she's fantastic."
"Awwww, little Johnny's growing up, I'm so proud of you," said Roger as he playfully tussled his hair.
Suddenly Evans had an idea, "You know we could probably use a pilot here?"
Roger paused, "That is very tempting, but my squadron is going to be expecting me to return."
"Your squadron still thinks you're MIA," Evans reminded him, "At least just have a look around."
Roger agreed to follow John on a quick tour of the estate, and as they walked through the main entrance, they were met by a very surprised and excited Lydia, who practically assaulted Roger in a very public display of affection, which he did not seem to mind at all.
"As you can see, this is the entrance to the estate…" Evans said as his words fell on deaf ears, "Oh well, never mind, finish snogging, I'll be outside."
Evans laughed and shook his head as he exchanged a knowing glance with Daisy.
Meanwhile, once the last of the refugees had been taken care of, Dumbledore found a quiet place underneath a tree to sit down as he meticulously examined the photographs and documents contained in the envelope Madame Maxime had given him. As he pored them over two or three times each, an excited gleam was in his eyes as he realized that the tide of the war was about to change.