FUCK ME, YOU'RE BAIRD
(GEARS I, ACT I: ASHES)
Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath:
Neither give place to the devil [Greek: diabolō].
— Ephesians 4:26 and 27
A/N: Before getting into this, I wanna note that there will be mention of a magic that Harry possesses that does not appear in J.K. Rowling's book. The idea was stolen from an anime called K that is for Kings. That skill will be explained in another fanfic I'm writing, but not for a long time. So, if you wanna know about it, just look up The Red King from K. I doubt, though I suppose I truly don't know, that this power will make a common appearance in this fic though.
Also, I just wanna say, did y'all ever notice that in Gears 1, Marcus acts like he has no idea what a Berserker is, yet he was there in Halvo Bay back in 1 A.E. where Baird and Kilo fought several of them. You're telling me in the nine years between them until his imprisonment that he never encountered or read about or saw a single one? "Please advise, Anya?" Mate, you should be so fahking good at killing them by now, you could do it in your sleep. I'm just saying. Hope you enjoy.
(~~~~~~~~~~)
Added Story Key:
Voices Spoken in a Whisper = Italics surrounded by Quotations: "Oh my god," Dom whispered.
(~~~~~~~~~~)
[7,000]
China Shop — 14 A.E. Tomb of the Unknowns, Ephyra
That bastard was behind everything. This war. The deaths. The killings. Sera being turned to a nuclear winter haven, while the rest was turned to a desert wasteland. All of it points back to this bastard. All of it was because of RAAM.
Then there was that voice over the coms that I saw from Myra's memory. I knew that name. I knew that voice. Few did, but I had read his research, gotten a hold of his posthumous books and tapes. For hours, I had studied the works of Adam Fenix as Gellert and I would sit around the campfire, watching the dual moons of Sera chase each other across the sky, as though they were Artemis and Selene. For months, I heard that voice in my head.
All this time…
All those years ago…
I knew the histories… I had read the books…
The Rape of Jannermont by Annalisa Cortez
The Fall of Gorasnya by Alexander Casan
The Devil Shows Himself: The Days the COG Strikes Its Hammer by Gora Emir
All the battles that were fought.
The Battle of Kinnerlake
The Destruction of Halvo Bay
The Battle of Jasper
The Battle of Bonbourg
The Ambush on Voslov Bridge
Skirmish in the Live Zone
And that was just the first year.
Four years later, Landown fell during the Winter of Sorrow.
Four years after that, Ilima City was evacuated.
One year after that, Ephyra Fell.
Then, there was Operation: Midnight, just one month ago.
All these deaths. All this killing. And the people of Sera were never warned.
And nobody knew…
What I did know though… was RAAM. Definitely nobody knew about that. The rage wouldn't leave my body, and the magic from my core was pumping like it had never before, working twice as hard to supply magic to a world where the was none. The ringing in my ears wouldn't stop, and I could barely make out Marcus' voice. It was like listening in water. Still there, still coming in, but going past me.
"Control, this is Private Fenix." He stared down and bellowed a sigh. "Lieutenant Kim is dead." Only bits and pieces. Only one piece really.
Kim is dead.
Kim is dead.
Kim is dead.
Carmine is dead.
Carmine is dead.
Ginny is dead. My daughter is dead. Their all dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.
If only not for RAAM and that bitch, the Professor might have had more time.
My vision went white for a moment as a sharp pain shot up the back of my head. Looking back, I saw Gellert there. Eyes glaring at me, face contorted into a scowl.
"Keep… it… togezer…" he growled out, eyes glowing like the Harvest Moon.
And just like that, I was back. Taken from the depths of my mind, soaked in the rushing waves of my brain, and back into the real world. Voices became clear, the sounds of bullets pounding against the metal door of the Tombs were audible, and Marcus' voice on the com with the blonde lady was comprehensible.
"Confirmed, Control. KIA."
"Rodger that. Um… there's a… courtyard at the other end of your building. That's your best bet."
"Copy that, Fenix out."
Gellert was still eyeing me, and my head was still throbbing.
"Fuck off you wanker," I half-whispered, half-growled to him.
Then came the blonde-haired prick, and surprisingly, I wasn't referring to Gellert this time.
"Well, we sure as shit can't stay here." He strutted up to Marcus, one arm holding his lancer and the other waiving about in an obnoxious manner.
"You're Baird," Marcus murmured, the usual growl back in his voice.
"Yeah, that's right, asshole. Question is, who are you?"
In that moment, I wished so hard for Marcus to knock Baird on his ass, for no other reason than the fact that Baird reminded me too much of Grindelwald, and honestly, I was still pissed about that slap upside the head. He also seemed to remind me of someone else. Someone I couldn't quite pin my finger on. However, before Marcus could respond, we all jumped at the startling sound.
It was like a combination of Joseph's chainsaw starting up, back in the Scottish woods, and a pig squealing as it died. Somewhere between a machine crawling to life, and the creature striving to escape death.
All of us turned around, Marcus and Baird up front, with our guns in hand.
"Shit. Quiet. Don't move!" Baird whispered.
"What was that?"
"Bezerker," Gellert whispered from behind them. "She is blind, yet she can hear us… she can smell." It's growls could be heard, not far from us.
Two Hagrid-esk stomps rang through the tombs, and the rattle of chains breached our ears. Until it stopped, and all fell silent.
"Grrrrkkkhhh!"
Berserkers were beast of impossible endurance. Gellert and I had seen so many since our arrivals, in our travels and travails. They were tall, standing a full arms length taller than even Gellert, and the strength they possessed could crumble stone and sheer iron. Ironically, they were the female Drones of the Locust Horde, but they were not to be trifled with. They were the chiefest of them all. Chiefestess actually.
There were two slams, the sound of meat slapping against stone, before the charge of the Berserker was preceded by its roar.
Meanwhile, in the centre of us all was a fellow-Gear, one who had on a helmet, and whose name I did not know. However, I realised that this guy was losing it.
He was moving back and forth rapidly and panting scaridly.
"Oh man, we gotta get outta here. We gotta get fucking out of here, man."
"Gyules!" Baird called out, but it was too late. The Gear had run off into the Tombs, and he didn't make it far.
"Oh!" he shouted, a cry of total surprise mixed, while the wall down the hall exploded, gassing the room with dust. Then came his screams of pain. "Argh!" sounding like an automaton through his respiratory. The growls of the Berserker were conjoined with the sound of flesh being rented from flesh. We could see the entire thing from the fires that cast the Berserk's shadow onto the wall. I could see its broad back and strong arms, as one of them reared back, and tossed a chunk of flesh down the hall. It hit the adjoining wall and came into sight. It was Gyules head, blood still draining from the arteries, emptying the confines of his cranium of all blood. The bodiless helmet rolled on the ground, till it stopped, with its blue visors staring down our way.
"Oh my god," Dom whispered.
"Control, this is Delta. We have a Berserker in the vicinity. Please advise."
The blond lady's voice came over in a hushed tone, which was ironic, considering she was back at Command, and we were here.
"Hold your fire, Delta! Standard weapons won't work. Do you still have the Hammer of Dawn?"
Marcus held a Lancer in his hand with no Hammer strapped to his back. He looked back at me to check. I just shook my head.
He sighed, while the others looked defeated.
"Negative, Control."
I had dropped it in the skirmish outside, and it hadn't even been on my mind at the time.
"Um…" her voice had a tone of concern for her (who I assumed was, after those looks at Embry Square) lover, and said, "See if you can sneak around it. If it spots you, just run. Nothing else will kill it."
He just sighed and said, "Wilco Anya, Delta out."
"Be safe, Marcus." Then, the com was cut out.
"Well, shit," he said, before turning towards Baird and Cole. "Alright guys, sit tight. We came here to help you, and that's what we're gonna do. We're gonna try to lead this thing far enough away, so you can sneak past it. Dom, let's go."
As they began to move in the other direction, opposite Gyules head, I grabbed Marcus' armour. "Hold up, Marcus."
"You stay here, kid. This is gonna be a shit show."
"I know. That's why you should let Gellert and I take care of this."
He raised an eyebrow at me and said, "You serious?"
"I'm telling you, I can kill this thing. Gellert and I have run into them before, and none of them are still alive, and we never even had the Hammer."
Now his eyes were firm, cold, and calculating, as he whispered to me, "You better not be fucking with me, here."
"I'm not, let me show you what we can do. Trust me." This time, I grabbed hold of his arm, my left on his left, right around his forearm. For a while, we just stared at each other, not saying anything. His ice blues sought my emerald greens for any deceit… or maybe any weakness.
"Okay," he said with a nod. "I better not be sending you to your fucking death."
"You're not, just have a little faith," I smirked, before turning to the rest of them. "Alright guys, same plan, except Marcus and Dom will stay back too. Gellert and I can do this better if it's just the two of us." Turning to my heterochromatic friend, I said, "You still got my Insperado?"
He blinked, evidently surprised. "You vant a cigar now?"
"You bet," I said. "You know something Joseph taught me about tracking? Only two-leggeds smell like oil and smoke."
Realisation struck his face, before he grinned evilly, and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a large tube, popping the cap open, and producing my untouched, undamaged Macanudo Inspirado cigar. He handed his lighter to me, and I quickly lit it. When I handed it back to him, he pulled his own pack of Lucky Strikes out and lit one.
"Time to go to work, Gellert," I said.
Falling in line behind me, my brother's excited, downright maniacal grin stayed on the whole time as we went the same way Marcus almost had earlier. Right on our way to the Berserker.
Trailing behind them, Harry and Gellert never saw the invisible Jack bot recording their every move.
(~~~~~~~~~~)
We marched forward, cigars and cigarettes hanging from our mouths. Our guns were readied and we walked steadily and quitely. Sneaking around the back of the ruins to surprise the Berserker.
"So 'ow are ve going to play zis? Ve 'aven't got any scorchers, and ve lost ze'ammer."
I didn't reply. I simply stopped, not looking back at him, and held up my left hand, palm facing toward the ceiling. From the palm of my hand came a flame, a tiny beating fire, casting the shadow of my figure on the wall beside us.
"Ze power of ze Kings," Gellert spoke with realisation. The sound was so low and the voice so awe filled. It was said as a soft spoken whisper. It was like he couldn't believe that we were doing this. I couldn't blame him.
I haven't used this ability since Erised. Not since Ginny died.
It was the power of the kings.
No one knew where it came from. I wasn't even sure if my world had it, or if it was only present in Erised. The power of the Kings was no normal magic. Anyone could harness it. Muggle. Veela. Wizard. Hell, the damned Locusts probably could if they got a hold of it. Most knew it as the power of the Kings. But I knew it as Damocles, the sword of peril.
According to the legends of Erised, Damocles appeared sometimes during the struggle between Morgana Le Fay and Merlin, during the reign of King Arthur over Britain. In this time, the magicals, Merlin and Morgana, slaughtered thousands of muggles. Those caught in the crossfire of their magical war.
Many mothers cried out, the text of old recorded, and the God of the heavens and the earth heard their crying. For seven days, the sun was blackened. For seven nights, the moon gave no light. Then He sent down a seven hundred foot sword with seven gems embedded in it. The sword hung in the heavens for seven weeks. Each of the gems glowed brightly, the heavens lit with the power of God. From those seven gems were chosen seven faithful men to best the scourges of the world. Seven Kings to protect the nations. Each King like that of the Seven Gems.
The Grey King, the King of Absolute Defence, the King of the Mist and Fog.
The Green King, the King of Absolute Chaos, the King of the Lightning.
The Purple King, the King of Absolute Desire, the King of the Cosmos.
The Blue King, the King of Absolute Adaptation, the King of the Water.
The Red King, the King of Absolute Wrath, the King of the Fire.
The Gold King, the King of Absolute Control, the King of the Earth.
The Silver King, the King of Kings, the King of the Heavens.
Each of the Kings were given a gift from God, a sword of their own, a sword seventy feet tall. Damocles reigns over the King as the King reigns over the people. Damocles forever binds the King's power, and the King is forever a sword of the people.
These were the texts that the King before me had me study, the ones who passed the mantle to us. No one knew for sure if the texts were right. No one cared. Because they were true either way. Damocles forever binds this great power of mine, and this great power could only be used to protect the people. Damocles was a sword to my neck, only to be wielded in absolute circumstances.
Now this beast would see this sword.
"Are ve sure about zis? What about Damocles down?" Gellert asked.
"This is absolutely necessary."
"Is it? Marcus could 'ave 'andled it, no?"
I looked back at him this time. Glaring into his heterochromatic eyes. "They killed Carmine, Gellert. They killed Kim. Now they've gotten Baird's friend. You really wanna risk Marcus and Dom?"
For a moment, we stared at one another, then a look of fierce determination crossed his face. His cigarette turned upward as he gave me a toothy grin and said, "Zen let's go to vork."
Gellert readied his Lancer, and his face became determined. His voice became normal and level. "Vat's ze plan?"
"You're not gonna need a gun for this one." It was almost comical. Gellert's determined visage fell, and he cocked his head to the side like a confused dog.
"Zen vat am I do to?"
"You don't fight fire with water…"
"Um actually—"
"You fight it with more fire." Harry spread open his palm, and a flame erupted from it.
Gellert gestured forward like an angry Italian man, pinching his fingers together and waving them angrily. "Zat tells me absolutely not about vat I am supposed to do, 'Arry." The man was always quick to anger. Not real anger, but a sarcastic annoying sort. Kind of like Baird.
With a belittling tone, Harry patted Gellert's shoulder and said, "Just sit back and look pretty." With that, Harry took off towards the sound of the roaring Berserker.
"Geh zum teufel! Don't you know I am ze Green King bastard! I am ze Lord of ze zunderbolt! You vill not leave me behind"
As it turns out though, Gellert wouldn't get to show off his ability. No, a different of him was needed.
(~~~~~~~~~~)
Pounding was heard in the halls of the dead along with the snarling and growling of the angry beast. It inhaled deeply. Quickly but deeply. Taking in as much information as it could, she analysed every scent in the air. The smell of tar filled her senses. They were in a city, and that's all there was. Tar and oil. From the asphalt, from the factory buildings, from the cars and trucks, it was everywhere. The smog filled the air, and there was not a trace of the natural, raw imulsion filled tunnels that she loved so much. The ones she was raised and born in. Here it was processed. Oil that cycled through the engines of the heavy artillery. Bar and chain oil that ran over the blade of the lancer.
However, there were two scents that were distinct from the rest. One made her want to curl and recoil in disgust. It was like the worst part of wood burning, acidic and charred, like living in the by-product of a factory. The other smell was no less revolting, but in the opposite direction. It had a pleasant vanilla scent, but the smell was so strong that it also made her take a step back.
Growling, she stomped in its direction, following the lines in the air which to the scent. That was all she could see after all. The world was nothing but lines. Lines of smells and odours. She turned down a corridor, and the source of the scent was revealed. It was two humans, the enemy, standing there. The thoughts that ran through her mind were simple and clear.
Kill them!
Kill them!
Rip them apart!
Tear them to pieces!
Thus, she let out a growling roar, it was high pitched, almost like a squeal, before the muscles in her calves tense, and she charged forward, her massive legs working overtime to charge at the puny creature before her. She was the alpha after all. As her legs pounded against the ground, her arms swinging, one of the humans, the taller of the bunch moved in front of her.
Before her very nostrils, his scent transformed. What had been tar and oil and stench of cigars turned animalistic. The scent became wet, like an animal who had spent a great deal of time in the rain. There was also the filthy smell of an animal's breath, like that of a corpser.
She pressed on towards the tall human, but as she neared him, though she did not understand what had happened, she made impact with something large, hairy, and meaty. She felt the length of it come across her chest, before she was sent flying into some kind of hard surface. There was also the sound like stones breaking apart. She didn't know what she hit, for she couldn't see, but the texture of it did hurt a little. It was sharp and jagged and felt like the harsh rocks of the Hallow. As she lay there, more in stunned silence that pain, one of her size having difficulty getting back up, she heard the human speak.
"Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?"
Then, all she felt was the searing pain.
(~~~~~~~~~~)
When the beast came into view, he allowed his cigar to drop out of his mouth, simply falling to the floor. Gellert looked at him, and grinned encouragingly. By now they were familiar with the sound as the beast squealed with anger, its roar shaking the very foundations of the tomb. Then, she charged.
"Grrrrkkkhhh!"
Harry sheathed his lancer on his back, while Gellert stepped in front of Harry. As the beast grew closer, the impossible, by all human standards, happened. Gellert began to grow, his already towering form, becoming nearly twelve feet tall. His armour, along with the rest of his clothes, began to grow with him, conforming to every nook and cranny of his change. Harry grinned at seeing this. Perhaps it was the best thing the Twins ever invented. Expandable armour.
Fur sprouted all over his body, and his face elongated as a snout began to form, along with his ear shifting position. They too elongated into points and by some feat of biological impossibility, shifted to rest on top of his head. Massive claws grew from out of his gloves, the only portion of his clothing that wouldn't survive the transformation, and along with them, massive canines sprouted from his maw. Furthermore, while his arms stayed relatively human, merely growing bigger, furrier, and razor sharp nails, his legs contorted. The bones within them broke, eliciting a grunt of pain from the young man, as they shifted into the haunches like that of a dog. Along with his legs, his armour also changed shape to match.
In place of where the tall Grindelwald once was, there was a wolf-man of towering proportions. Harry would need someone actually twice his height to be able to look the wolf in its eyes. His white furn was clear in the dark ruins of the Tomb.
As the Berserker continued charging, the now turned wolf, Gellert, swiped out at it in a long and fluid movement, the length of his arm coming across its chest and lifting it off its feet. The beast went flying across the room, the bulk of its body slamming into a wall, and caving it in.
It laid there on the ground, arms outstretched as it tried to rise, but it was like watching a tortoise on its back. Though arthropodic in appearance, the beast was bulky, and with so much weight, it made it nearly impossible to rise up.
"Well done, Gellert," Harry said in a low voice.
With that, Gellert moved back behind Harry, no doubt to return to his human form, and likely to retrieve his weapon that he had dropped while transforming. However, with the beast laying on the ground, Harry turned his body towards it. He raised both hands up to his side, his palms were facing upwards, and slightly cupped, like he was holding something invisible. Within them sprang two red crimson flames. They were the darkest kind of crimson too. Red as red got, almost appearing like blood. Along with the flames in his hand, his eyes began to shift from their natural green colour to the same pigment as what he held in his palms. Furthermore, they turned to slits.
A malicious grin, that was just as arrogant as Grindelwald normally wore on his face, came upon Harry's. He tensed his body and spoke. "Not the sharpest tool in the shed are you."
A ring of fire began to form around Harry's body on the ground, the marble floor of the Tomb becoming scorched and cracking apart under the pressure. Wherever cracked lines formed in the ground, flames formed with it. He brought his two outstretched hands up above and behind his head, their flames combing. Finally, he threw his arms down and away from his body, in the direction of the beast.
As the flames neared the beast, a feral grin rose upon Gellert's face, his eyes wide and happy. The crimson colour was shining off of his heterochromatic eyes, making for a strange reflection of black and red and in the other, silver and red. Even though Gellert had returned to his human, his feral grin and the flames in his eyes made him more beast than man.
Meanwhile, Harry watched with a cold look. The fire within still seething, his thoughts were a jumble of rage, shock, and bitterness. After all that he had learned within the mind of that brute RAAM, it was no wonder. So, instead of allowing the emotions to wallow, he shut them down, forcing them into a cool flame that manifested itself into the destruction about to befall the Berserker.
As the flame reached the beast, a wailing squeal went throughout the tombs as the beast screamed in pain.
"Grrrrkkkhhh!" It was the same sound of a cross between a grinding chainsaw and a dying animal. Her strong armoured skin was singed away instantly as flames like no other flames burned her. However, with the initial contact, the flame did not lose its energy. Afterall, this was not like the incendiary grenades of the war. This was the power of the Kings.
Rather, the flames kept burning, being used up but ressupplied in equal measure. The more flesh that was burnt, the more flames were fed. So began an endless cycle of seared flesh. The beast body kept burning, and the smell of cooked flesh began to permeate the tomb. As the flames kept working, the smell of cooking flesh — one that Gellert guiltily enjoyed — turned to the smell of scorched flesh, even smoking up the room, making even Gellert's already cigarette infested lungs hack up.
However, Harry still watched on stoic, not even a single emotion crossing his face. His eyes simply stared on in their bright crimson ruin.
Eventually the flames died down as the body was wholly consumed. Nothing was left as every tinge of blood was burned along with every piece of flesh. Further, as the flesh and blood was burned, the skeletal structure of the beast was revealed. So the flames sought their next target. The bones became black as they were first charred, but as the flames continued consuming it, the bones became weak and brittle, before they too finally burned away. Thus, there was no flesh, no blood, and no bone. All that was left was the scorch marks on the ground along with a pile of ash.
Seeing Gellert continuing to cough from the smoke that filled the chamber, Harry stretched his hand out towards the end of the hall, a ball of fire forming in his hand. As it condensed, Harry flexed his hand, and the ball of fire shot down the hall, hitting the far end of it and blasting a hole to the outside. The air in the surrounding area was sucked up in the blast. Thus, when it cleared, the smoke rushed out through the hole as equilibrium was reestablished.
"Zanks," Gellert said, breathing in a full breath of clean air.
Harry said nothing in turn, simply turning back towards the place where the Berserker had been. He turned to see that in the explosion and rush of air, even the ash was gone. Thus, there was no flesh, no blood, no bone, and not even ash to indicate anything had ever gone on. Even the scorch marks would be hard pressed, damn near impossible in a world without magic, to tell the tale of what had just transpired.
He turned away from it and began moving out of the newly formed hole of the Tomb into the sunlight. He then pressed his finger against the com in his ear.
"Delta-One, this is Delta-Two. The Berserker is dead, and the Tomb is secure. Regroup in the courtyard. Peverell out."
All the while, the jackbot recorded every piece of information.
(~~~~~~~~~~)
There was a gazebo in the centre of the courtyard with an iron rail fence surrounding it. We were leaned up against it, a second cigar in my hand, a smaller one this time, a black and mild rose flavoured cigar, while Gellert smoked one of his stinky cigarettes. There were grins on our faces as we inspected various things. I, of course, was simply watching the clouds drift on under the golden hue of the sun. Meanwhile, Gellert was staring at the various statues in the area. Statues of honoured men and women in this militaristic society along with its accompanying fallen heroes.
Having taken out my anger on the Berserker, some of my good mood had returned. As I smoked the cigar, its simple rosy scent wafting up my nose, I couldn't help but relax. That was why I smoked these things after all. It was like carrying a little box of incense with you everywhere you went. Everytime I brought one of these out, so many of my worries seemed to fade away.
Perhaps it was because they reminded me so closely of two of the men who raised me: Joseph Evans and the man who for all intents and purposes was my father, Vernon Dursley. Everytime I went to stay with Joseph, or even visited with him afterwards in the church cemetery, he always had a cigar between his finger tips. In a way, I began to associate the comfort of his presence with the smell of a cigar. The same was true of Vernon, who acted as a father to me. Anytime I came into his office to ask for help, he was always smoking a cigar. I remember from my youth how when we were younger, Uncle Vernon always smoked the cheapest ones possible, but as Uncle Vernon made more money, he began buying better ones. Higher in quality and smell.
These two men, along with Albus Dumbleodre, who did not in fact smoke, were my great mentors in life. From my youth, Vernon had instilled in me a good work ethic based upon a faith in God. He and Aunt Petunia raised both Dudley — my cousin who was also for all intents and purposes like my older brother — and I to be hard wired to discipline and work. We still played and had fun, but at the end of the day, we were workers.
'Adam worked in the garden, boyo, and don't think any of us are any better.'
True to fact, I did end up working with Aunt Petunia in the garden several times, helping to keep the house orderly. Meanwhile, Dudley usually got to help out Uncle Vernon with whatever he was doing. Some project on the house if he wasn't working at Grunnings. It always impressed me that for such a big man, he could walk with ease up tall and steep-pitched roofs.
My favourite times were when I got to make Sunday breakfast for the family. That was one of my chores regular. Aunt Petunia loved feeding all three of us, especially trying to get me to eat more than I could, but when Sunday breakfast would roll around, it was always my turn, and Dudley and Uncle Vernon loved to let me know how much they liked my food.
Talking with his mouth full, peices of it falling on the ground, Dudley would say, 'Mmmm murm, shish is even better than yours." Aunt Petunia always took it in a good heart, giving a small faux pout before agreeing. Before ever coming to Hogwarts, it was one of the things I was good at. Back then, I thought I was gonna be a chef when I got older.
Now here I am.
Nevertheless, after every breakfast, Uncle Vernon would take me into his back office, he'd light a cigar and pour himself a glass of scotch, and there we would talk as he regaled me with his business wisdom, lady wisdom, or even Bible wisdom. Whatever else Vernon thought Harry ought to know.
'A good deal is only a good deal if it's good for me and the customer, son, and that's a fact.'
'You always do a little bit more than what you're getting paid for. It's just the way we do things around here.'
'Boyo, the beginning of wisdom is the fear of the Lord. You keep God first, and the rest will sort itself out, lad.'
'When you find a woman Harry, you form a little circle between you two, and you never let anybody else in that circle. You're mad at her, you don't go complain to your buddy, Gellert, up the ways. You work it out with her, and her alone.'
Some of it was good, and some of it exceedingly crude, and maybe good.
'Boyo, you must always remember, never stick your dick in crazy! It'll come back to bite, yah. Always does, I tell yah.'
Thinking about it brought a smile to my face.
I almost let my thoughts wander to Joseph too, even more than they already had, but I tried not to for long. His death was still fresh in my mind, and I would rather remember the good times we had together, rather than the pain of losing him. However, the wound was certainly raw and bleeding. So all the good was always accompanied with the bad.
'You need time, Harry,' Dumbledore had told him, when all else seemed lost.
Nevertheless, it was the memory of these two men, both Joseph and Vernon, brought on by the smell of a cigar that always seemed to calm me down. Both were wise in their own way, but most of all, both had loved me and cared for me, even when the world was stacked against us.
All these things were floating around in my head, seeming to abate my anger, as we waited for the rest of Delta Squad to arrive.
(~~~~~~~~~~)
It didn't take much longer for Cole, Baird, Dom, and Marcus to rendezvous with us. I saw Marcus looking around. Not having found what he was looking for, the scarred up veteran walked up to us.
"Where's the body?" he asked. I went to reply, but someone else beat me to it.
"Zer vasn't one when ve finished vith it." The cigarette was dangling out the corner of his mouth, and moved up and down with every enunciation of the words he spoke. "But did you see ze scorch marks back in zer? Zat vould be all zat remains."
Marcus' eyes widened slightly, not much, but it was the most emotion that I had seen from the guy.
With a somewhat smug smile, I said, "I told you to have a little faith."
He looked impressed, and simply nodded. "Yeah." Then he turned away to face one of the walls of the courtyard. He pressed his finger against his ear, and spoke, "Control, this is Delta. Come in."
Since Marcus had turned away, I turned to look at the rest of Delta Squad. Already Gellert was talking with them, but for some reason my eyes strayed towards Baird. There was something about him that I just couldn't put my finger on. My eyes narrowed as I studied him intently.
Meanwhile, the sound of the coms came over all of our ears. It was the blonde lady again, Anya I believe he called her.
"I read you, Marcus. Colonel Hoffman is coming online."
After a moment, a third voice entered the fray. It was the same voice that we had heard this morning. The growling voice of that commander that had recruited Gellert and I into this war.
"Report!" he said.
"We're with Alpha, and we have the Resonator."
"Hmmm. Uh, very good. Stand by for new orders."
Marcus turned back towards the rest of us, asking, "You guys all right?"
I just nodded, and Dom and Gellert stayed silent. However, Baird had been inspecting the Resonator on Cole's back. He was the one to get up and talk to Marcus.
"We've gotta get out of here," he said. "It's gonna be dark soon."
"So?" Marcus asked, as though Baird was an idiot.
"He is talking about ze Kryll storm, Sergeant," Gellert added. "Are you aware of vat Kryll are?"
"Hmmm," Marcus said, simply grunting in affirmation.
"Ze Locust deploy a Kryll storm across all of Ephyra during ze night. 'Arry and I 'ave encountered several of zem along ze way. Zat is not a group you vant to be caught up vith after dark."
Before the conversation could continue anymore, the Colonel got back on the coms.
"Delta, we now have a secondary target. You will deploy your Resonator in the Lethia Imulsion Facility, due west of your position."
Cole seemed to let out a tired sigh at hearing this. No doubt tired from the day's war. He'd probably been at it all day, or even multiple. Gellert and I had simply been search the city for the lost Horcrux. That meant we only dealt with what we had to and slept when we wanted to. Not an option for a Gear.
"And you're in charge… Sergeant Fenix…" The Colonel added. "As of now."
"Sergeant?" Baird cut in with a disbelieving tone. However, Marcus just ignored him. It also didn't seem like his new promotion affected him in anyway. Even the tenseness of his voice was present as he spoke to the Colonel.
I'd be pissed at Hoffman too.
"Copy that. We're clear for Ravens."
"Negative. Area is too hot for choppers. You'll have to find another way."
I heard Gellert curse as he heard that, saying, "Merde, Zat is like ten clicks away."
"Copy that, Delta out."
When Marcus turned around to face the rest of us again, Baird scoffed. "Typical. Don't give the smart guy a promotion. No, no, give it to a jackass, instead."
My eyes were trained on Baird the whole.
Why does this guy look and sound so familiar?
Dom walked up to Baird, looking like he wanted to say something in response to Baird's snark. However, Cole stopped with a hand on his chest before turning to Marcus.
"So, we gotta hump this to the factory, or what?"
Dom went to speak, but before he could, Gellert interrupted him.
"No, ve can take my ride." He gestured towards Cole and Baird. "You guys veren't vith us earlier, but ze already know zat 'Arry and I are new conscripts. Before zat, ve had been travelling all over Tyrus in an APC searching for something. It is parked not far from here."
"New conscripts?" Baird said, walking towards the big guy. "What the hell does that-"
However, before he could finish, it all came together in my mind. Then like a flood, the only thought that I had came tumbling out.
"Fuck me, you're Baird!"
All eyes turned towards Harry, and Baird, as was his manner, was immediately aggressive.
"Yeah, that's right, asshole. What's it to you?"
However, I ignored him and got right in Gellert's face.
"You son of a bitch," with special emphasis on the letter a, I got right in his face. "Earlier you were excited about meeting this guy. You were humping his leg outside the Tomb like a randy cerberus. I finally figured out why. You knew the whole fucking time that this was Damon Baird!"
Gellert threw his head back laughing. "Zat I did."
"What? You know this guy from somewhere?" Dom asked. Marcus and Dom had only met Baird and Cole that day, and they were only familiar with Cole.
"Kind of." Harry sighed. "When Gellert and I are travelling across the continent, we always pick up books and audio tapes wherever we go, so that whenever we bunk down or whoever isn't driving can pass the time. That much travelling get's boring after a while, yah know? Anyways, there's a book out there called… ahhh…" Harry snapped his fingers as though it would somehow help. "G, what was the name of it?
"It vas 'Eroes or Villains: Ze Fall of 'Alvo Bay."
"Yeah, that was it. It recorded all about the Battle of Halvo Bay under that locust general Karn. This," Harry said, while gesturing over to Baird, "sarcastic git was in that bloody book, picture and all. Along with him too." He then pointed at Cole. The kind but tough man simply looked wide eyed.
"This guy is known for doing crazy stuff. He used to be a lieutenant, yah know. But when he used one of the COG's secret weapons, a missile to knock out the locust horde — against orders — he was demoted. The book was all about whether what he did was good or bad, since the city was lost not three months later. Now personally, I don't care about that shit. All I know is that we're travelling with bat shit crazy on this squad, and we have Gellert here too." The squad didn't really know what that meant, but they chose not to comment. Instead, Baird seemed to take offence.
"Hey if it wasn't for me and the rest of Kilo Squad, a lot of people would have died."
"Not my problem with all this. Maybe you're right, but my issues is that your mad mental self is known to come up with crazy ideas that are liable to get us killed… or worse!" Harry added as an afterthought, making Gellert cackle again. It sounded like the cackling of a dog too.
"You were the one who launched the Lightmass Missile at Halvo?" Marcus cut in, his eyes sharp and piercing.
Turning his head to Marcus, he simply scoffed and said, "Yeah, I did."
"To be fair to Damon," Cole cut in before Marcus had the chance to respond. "He really is right. If we hadn't done that, a whole lot more people woulda died. Truth is, yeah it may not have killed that freak, Karn," Harry had to physically stop himself from flinching at that word, "but it sure as heck cut down the grubs' forces in half. We'd a lost Halvo a lot sooner if it wasn't for that."
Marcus just grunted, a look on his face, one that I couldn't decipher, before he turned to me and said, "Alright, Peverell, are you gonna have a problem with Baird?"
"No, I just never thought I would meet him of all people," he said with a shake of his.
"Zat's because vat 'Arry didn't tell you vas zat he used to read zat book like once a veek. Perhaps he's got a little crush on you, Baird."
"Shut it, Grindelwald," Harry growled out. "Yer the one humping his leg all the time."
Before they could devolve into another argument, Marcus continued. "Okay, then if we're all good, then we should keep moving. We're burning daylight." Turning to Gellert, he asked, "How far is your APC?"
Gellert shook his head. "Not far at all. It is close to where ve met you by Embry Square. Since ve cleared out most of the grubs, it should not take us more zan an 'our to get zere. I zink ve could reach it in less zan an hour. We might 'ave to sneak past ze street in case zat big grub and his Drones are vith him."
Nodding, Marcus said, "Okay then, we'll go with that. Let's move out."
And with that, Delta Squad was off to fulfil its next mission, all the while Harry sighing in his head.
Why does trouble always seem to find me?