A/N - two chapters in a month? Who would have ever thought!

Previously:

Harry's hands clenched as he watched her moaning in pain and frustration, favoring her left side. His eyes cut angrily to Romanoff, who let out a small breath before she stepped forward and offered a hand to Bella. He could see her weighing the possibility of a trick - Natasha could be a real devil - but thankfully she generally liked Bella. Harry didn't even want to imagine her injuries if she didn't.

Bella accepted the offered hand, being careful of any sudden shifts in weight from the crafty assassin that might indicate a trick... There was none, however, and Harry smiled fondly when Bella took a long swig from her canteen before noticing him and favoring him with a wide smile despite her obvious pain.

When he caught her rubbing her ribs when she thought he wasn't watching, he just knew he'd be applying bruise paste to her battered skin later on.

And then of course, he'd kiss it better.

Once he got back from his mission.

The Helicarrier

With their briefing completed and their weapons check-out from the armory approved, Harry spent a few hours walking around the ship, eventually wandering onto the flight deck. He liked the feel of the wind in his hair, despite it rolling across the tarmac at over sixty miles per hour. While the carrier never got high enough to enter the jet-stream, even when they were barely moving the winds up this high, over the flat ocean with no land in sight, could get pretty stiff.

The peaceful view stood in stark contrast to the thoughts roiling in his mind. He knew that Loki had an unhealthy fascination with his girlfriend - even before the attempted kidnapping he thought that - but now he was equal parts angry and worried. He suspected that she was safe from him out and out killing her - he seemed to want to acquire her - but accidents did happen, and he had no doubt that Bella would be a hell of a lot safer if she stayed far away from Loki.

Unfortunately, she was perhaps the most important single member for this mission, as everyone else seemed vulnerable to Loki's mind control trick. Harry had discussed it in-depth with Hermione, wondering if it was like the Imperious curse and if a strong will or occlumency could be used against its control.

They debated this for quite some time, and Hermione played devils-advocate. She rightly pointed out that the Imperious didn't turn the victim's eyes blue, like Loki's trick did. Also, the Imperious required fairly close and regular contact with those under its effects. Clearly, unless Loki had followed those agents that had tried to grab Bella to Washington, Loki's mind control worked at long distances. And finally, she said, the Imperious generally only worked on one victim at a time. Only the very strongest Wizards could control multiple minds at once - it was said Grindenwald could control three or four people at once - and even then the imperious still required frequent reinforcement and close contact. Loki, by all estimates, had over a dozen people under his thrall that they knew of, and by this point could be considerably higher.

Granted, he might just be that much stronger than Grindenwald; but if he was, would Harry's occlumency even make a difference?

Nevertheless, he had been working on his occlumency whenever he got a spare moment, wondering if he could ever approach Bella's power with mind-shielding.

It was a lofty goal.

Thinking about her made him smile. She was far and away the best thing that happened to him in a long, long time. And while they had only known each other for less than a year, he felt more strongly for her than he did about anyone else he'd ever been with. He hoped that, when this mission with Loki was finally over, that they could talk a bit about their future.

Of course, as they got to know each other, they's both shared their hopes and dreams, and he knew that Bella herself - just out of her teen years - only had vague notions of what her long term plans were.

"I think I want to do a semester abroad - in London," she'd said with a wink when they were engaging in some pillow talk a few months ago. "Georgetown has a really good exchange program with Kings College in London, and well..."

She trailed off, her bottom lip trapped between her front teeth; this was a gesture of hers that she did unconsciously when she was unsure or thinking deeply about something...and it absolutely drove him insane. It was almost impossible to not to kiss her when she did this.

So he did, and their pillow talk soon escalated into another round of lovemaking.

Sometime later, as her head lay on his chest as her fingers lazily traced patterns on his stomach, she brought it up again. "So what do you think, Harry? About me in London?"

Gently turning her face so she was looking up at him, her chin on his sternum and her hair splayed over his ribs and belly, he smiled, a deep, soulful grin that made his eyes sparkle. "I think I showed you what I think about it, Bella. But just to say the words...yes, I would love to have you in London. Seeing you only once every week or so is simply not enough." He dragged his fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp as he knew she loved. "And if there is no requirement for you to live in the dorms, I'd like it if you would stay with me in Grimmauld. I would love to have you there."

When Bella leaned up and kissed him again, no more words were exchanged as their bodies did the talking.

Now, staring out at the grey waters of the Atlantic that dominated the view in every direction, he couldn't wait until she was living with him.

It was several hours later that Harry and a team of operatives under Brock's command, took a shuttle to London where they met up with several Aurors from the British Ministry. There was some tension between the two groups, but the Wizards didn't overly complain when Harry explained why they were traveling to their target in muggle transport instead of apparating or portkeying there.

"We have no idea who is down there, and what magical protections they might have in place," he'd said. "It's much safer to travel in the muggle vans and then walk travel the last half mile."

They drove through London, leaving the bright and glittering areas into the more industrial dock areas as they headed east. They left the vans behind, walking for about fifteen minutes before they reached their target.

It was nearing 8pm when they slipped silently past the rusted metal gate that led down into the bunker. In actuality, the 'bunker' was a large, subterranean complex that had housed an entire British intelligence unit during World War 2. It was built in 1940 during the bombings and air battle that would later be called 'The Battle of Britain,' and was designed to be bombproof and safe from air attack. The structure was quite big and went deep, arcing down away from the Thames and into deep bedrock under the city. During the V1 and V2 bombings that came later in the war, it was expanded and had housed several hundred specialists who worked on Enigma code decrypts, intelligence gathering, and espionage efforts.

It had been abandoned at the end of the war, as it suffered from continuous leaks and moisture problems because of its proximity to the river, but was briefly rehabilitated when the Soviet Union exploded its first nuclear weapon in 1949, as it was the second deepest large-scale bunker in London. It was kept habitable – despite the water leaks getting worse and the foundation beginning to show cracks – through the early years of the cold war, before being abandoned in the early 1960's for newer, deeper bunkers that also had air filter systems to protect against airborne contaminants and shock absorbtion systems to handle the effects of nuclear blasts.

As Harry examined how well concealed the entryway was, he thought it made a pretty good hideout. The gate was twisted and rusted, and it looked like any old abandoned railway tunnel, complete with wooden beams and rusted rail ties lying about. Just outside the entryway, the quick pitter of large rats that looked unfriendly and unafraid added to the ambience.

Alastor Moody once told him that the Death Eaters had made use of similar abandoned bunkers during the first wizarding war, and Harry - during his work as an Auror - had investigated some of these bunkers himself.

They were never fun.

The entryway itself was at the end of a rotted pier that jutted out onto the Thames, about midway down the river to the North Sea. A large concrete berm ran along a low ridge, and the gate was built on hinges that hung suspended in the middle of the concrete wall. A canning plant and recycling center was the only active industry nearby, the rest of the nearby buildings nothing more than rusted and crumbling ruins. Letting his eyes move about, he saw that the entire area was scattered with twisted barbed wire fences and concrete buttresses that were old and crumbling, and a smell of putrid decay and petrochemicals filled the air.

All told, the dank tunnel they walked into was about as dreary a location as they could find. Needless to say, no one of the team were eager to enter the forbidding tunnel.

The first quiet argument about operational jurisdiction started when the Aurors wanted to cast light spells, but Brock and his team objected vehemently. They had lowlight infrared gear, and wanted to use it so as not to give away their position. Harry agreed with them, so the Wizards had to follow along behind the agents - they refused the infrared goggles they were offered - who proceeded in combat formation, three men in two 'v' groupings, assault guns lifted to eye level as they moved silently deeper into the tunnels.

Harry walked behind the first group, and after only about a dozen feet, as the tunnel was sloping downwards and to the left, the very faint green glow from the Agent's optical scopes was the only light in the tunnel. Harry and the wizards had to stay close to the SHIELD agents so they could see where they were going, as there were rotted wood and stone piles that made footing tricky at times. He had his own goggles on, but the lenses were up over his forehead; so long as he had the scope glow he had enough light to see any obstacles in their path, and he didn't want to risk having the goggles on if he needed to start casting. Romanoff had warned him that bright lights in the goggles would cause his eyes to have spots in them for up to twenty seconds, which could be deadly if a fight broke out.

As they moved deeper into the complex, they were unable to keep completely silent. There were puddles and dripping water everywhere, and the sound of their footsteps echoed in the tunnel as it slowly sloped downward. The scurrying of rats or maybe cats could occasionally be heard, and sometimes Harry would feel echoes of their steps heading in different directions. He realized that there were other tunnels branching off from the main one, and he understood that this place was like a big underground maze. Thankfully, though, they had all studied the map that SHIELD had in its computer - it dated from 1957, the last blueprint that they could find - and they only had to make two turns to get to the main bunker entrance, which was the biggest room in the entire structure and a likely place to find anyone down here. Brock had a distance measuring unit with him, and knew how many meters they had to travel before taking the turns, and he led them slowly but confidently deeper into the bunker.

The only talking they'd done was when Brock had whispered - perhaps a minute after they entered into the complex - that the signal to the Helicarrier had been lost. In fact, no signals of any kind penetrated this deep, which is something they had anticipated.

After all, concrete and dozens of feet of earth were an excellent barrier against any sort of emission.

They'd been walking for close to ten minutes, the air getting staler as they moved deeper and the ceiling was slowly getting lower. The silence seemed to deepen around them, the quiet echoes of their footfalls splashing in the more frequent puddles - soft as these sounds were - seemed to echo in all directions, giving away their position to any hidden enemy. The group began to feel edgy, the feeling of oppression slowly increasing. Despite having seen no sign of any danger so far, everyone felt wary, and hands tightened on wands and rifle stocks.

It was just too damned quiet.

After another minute or two proceeding like this, Brock hissed for them to halt.

Harry could barely make him out in the near pitch dark, only the glow from the lowlight gear provided any lighting. "Why'd we stop?" he whispered.

"We are less than fifty meters to the bunker," Brock said. He held up a small device that had faint numbers on it. "We've come 642 meters so far, the map said the main chamber was 680 meters down the main tunnel." He paused for a moment. "There is no light ahead. If someone was here and we were not expected, I would think we would see the glow from their lights."

He let them digest that for a moment before speaking again. "Spread out our formation. There is enough room down here. I don't want us so bunched that we present a target that no one could miss."

Everyone followed his instructions without comment, and to Harry the dark seemed even deeper as the glowing scopes moved out away from the wizards in the middle.

They started moving again, slower than before, looking forward to see if there was any light from the main room that must be just ahead. As they walked, they realized Brock was right: that if something was down here, then they should be seeing light by now.

Harry realized that meant either no one was here, or...they knew they were coming.

Just as he finished that thought, a whisper of what might have been rapidly scurrying feet sounded far off to their left, down an unseen corridor that branched off into the darkness.

"Tactical," whispered Brock after just a brief moment of hesitation.

Almost as one the Agents pivoted to face that direction, weapons rising. Two of the SHIELD agents on the ends of the formation crouched low, giving room for the men behind to have a clear view of fire. A low humming noise suddenly sounded from several of the Agents as they flipped their infrared eyepieces to a different mode, and then neon green laser lights from each of the rifle scopes sent pinpoint, hazy illumination down the corridor. The scopes also gave some more light to the groups area, and Harry was able to finally make out more details of the corridor they were standing in.

It was as depressing as he had imagined, with deep fissures in the walls and floor, and water and moss leaking through most of the stone.

The Wizards moved behind the agents, standing well clear of the fire zones of the SHIELD men, there to provide tactical support. In truth they were only going to be needed in case of Magical trouble, and Harry was afraid they were just going to get in the way of the SHIELD agents. They had little experience with muggle firearms, and Harry feared for their safety.

Brock's voice suddenly whispered urgently. "Jackson, do you see that?"

One of the agents who were crouched - presumably Jackson - answered. "Not sure, sir. Just shadows middle of that corridor, but the height is wrong."

For a long heartbeat, no one moved. Finally the pressure got to one of the Aurors. "What is it? What's down there?"

Harry squinted, trying to see something down the corridor. He heard a soft curse, and then, like something from a horror movie that slowly emerges from the shadows, he realized that suddenly while several of the green beams seemed to fade out hundreds of meters into the distance, two of them had instead intersected some unmoving object that stood in the center of the corridor, perhaps sixty or seventy meters away. The only thing discernable was its height - perhaps four or five feet - and the general shape it cut against the glow, which was sort of man-shaped but with a rounded top.

At this range, in this light, it was impossible to tell what it was.

It was completely still, and as dark as the pitch blackness of the tunnel. The presence of the laser sights to its sides and intersecting on middle did not induce any reaction.

As soon as the other Agents saw it, they quickly lined up their lasers so they all converged on the object, and its general small size was confirmed. "What is it?" Brock hissed again. While they all suspected it might be a person down there, its size and stillness seemed to indicate otherwise. It could be nothing more than an old oil drum, or an upturned crate. Both would be the right size and shape.

No one answered Brock's question, and the target still hadn't moved. Harry was tempted to fire a light spell down the tunnel, but barely restrained himself; besides possibly overloading the SHIELD agent's eyes because of their infrared lenses, he felt the hairs on his arms stirring, and his danger sense was kicked into high gear.

He felt actual menace, and by the sudden stiffening of the other Aurors, their magic must have felt it too.

Brock stood to his full height, his rifle at his shoulder and pointed downrange at the target, which still had not moved. He spoke in a loud voice that echoed through the tunnels. "Whoever you are, walk forward with your hands up. This is your only warning!"

The 'click-clack' sound of automatic rifles being primed was the only sound their group made, besides the accelerated breathing of all of them.

Several long seconds passed, and then suddenly - between one blink of their eyes and the next - whatever had been blocking the laser beams was gone, and now all of them vanished into the distance, the far wall too far away to see even with the lasers.

Whatever it was, in vanished into the labyrinth.

"Fuck," whispered one of the agents. "Was it some sort of animal?"

"It was small," Brock answered just as softly, though his voice was rougher and his rifle was still facing down the corridor. "Somewhere between three and five feet I'd guess."

Harry could feel the uneasiness of the group increasing, and he decided he had enough. "Okay, turn off your infrared eyepieces, I am going to light this place up. Whatever surprise we had has been lost."

For a moment he thought Brock might argue, but then he nodded, and the agents all lifted their lenses from their eyes, folding them against their forehead.

Harry turned to the two Aurors. "Stiles, Branson, I want Lumos Maxima's down the corridor behind us, and towards the chamber ahead. I'll take the side tunnel. Let's see what's down here."

Even as he heard their verbal ascent, Harry raised the Elder Wand and cast his own spell towards the side tunnel. "Lumos Maximus!" An incredibly bright light - like a holiday sparkler gone mad - flared to life and passed down the corridor, casting the damp and decaying stone and bricks in sharp relief as it burned white and strong. The team who were watching the side corridor had an impression of rotted ceilings of wood or earth and cement, filled with fungus growth and water seeping through the stones of the walls. Sections with wood scaffolding were scattered here and there, seemingly the only thing holding the roof from caving in as small piles of rocks and dirt littered parts of the corridor.

As the light receded down the tunnel, leaving an afterimage behind it, it finally crashed into the far wall at the end of the tunnel, perhaps two hundred meters away. It hung there for a few seconds, the strength of the light still holding enough light for them to see even this far away.

And then chaos began.