Battle Lines

Chapter 10: Training & Traitors

03 Apr 03: Somewhere over Europe

1100h

Natalie Boone roared through the canyon, hot on the tail of her wingman's assassin.

Almost in range.

She flipped up on her side and raced through another bend. Her crosshairs went green as they swung over her target, in range. She jammed her finger down on the trigger sending lances of magical energy in pursuit of her target but he rolled away down a branch of the canyon. She followed him in. Suddenly magic lanced up at her from below, tracers filled the air and flak burst around her.

It's a trap.

She jinxed sideways to avoid another burst of flak, straight into the canyon wall. Everything went black.

Crap.

A crack appeared in the blackness and the door of the simulator swung open. Nat stepped out to cheers and jeers from the rest of the Squadron who had already been "shot down".

She took a deep bow. 'Thank you, thank you. Repeat performances every hour, on the hour.'

Aaron sidled up to her. 'Impressive; straight into a cliff. I think we'll keep that one for the instruction manuals.'

He squinted and held his hands out in front of him, as if imagining a headline. '"How Not To Do It - The Nat Splat".'

'Shut up Reilly, I lasted longer than you.'

'Which means that you're buying drinks tonight.'

Nat sighed and turned to the large screen that was displaying the view from inside the other simulators.

'Who's left in?'

Rachel turned away from the screen. 'Weasley, Phannan, Klivias and the Ma'am.'

'Brilliant,' said Aaron, 'Seeker Squadron plus one.'

'Hey, at least you've still got one in there.'

Nat turned at the voice, walking toward them were Joseph Farden and his wingman, or to be politically correct, wingwoman, Samantha Rheinburg. The statement caught Nat off guard, it was the first time that one of the ex-Chaser Squadron pilots had talked other than when it had to do with missions.

Aaron hadn't missed it either. 'By the Founders, the deaf mutes speak!'

From the look on their faces neither of the two knew how to take this, Nat took pity on them.

'Don't mind Aaron, his tact-o-metre hasn't quite developed yet. Where's number three?'

Joseph looked puzzled, but Samantha seemed to pick up on what Nat meant. She pointed over to where Greg Bull was scowling at the screen.

'Over there. I think he's still a bit annoyed at being shot down. Personally I think he's taking this a little bit too seriously.'

Nat was about to say something about all ex-Chasers being a little too serious when Aaron spoke up.

'Oop, somebody else bought it,' he said as one of the views on the screen winked out.

The corresponding simulator opened and John Klivias climbed out and walked over to the small group cursing.

'Some bugger on a broom just popped out of no-where and took me to the cleaners.'

Nat chuckled to herself quietly, but Farden was looking around the room.

'Is anyone else noticing a slight disparity here?'

'A what.'

Farden continued on unperturbed. 'There are three views still up on the screen, but four simulator modules still running.'

Even as he said it another view on the screen winked out. Fred emerged from his sim muttering about "Some bastard on a broom..."

'I think somebody is playing funny buggers,' said Aaron.

They watched the screen as the two remaining pilots continued their missions. Then Phannan's view winked out. He extricated himself from the sim then wandered over to where the rest were standing watching the screen. Now it was only Cho left. The view started to jump around, as if the Squadron Leader was trying to avoid fire, then the ASI dropped and another broom raced past her. A quick well aimed shot from Cho vaporized her assailant. Then her screen faded away. In its place were rankings of each of the pilots, showing kills, assists, accuracy, time of death and overall score for the exercise.

'If someone was having us on,' said Rheinburg, 'then I think that Squadron Leader Chang was in on it.'

The two remaining sim modules cracked open. Out of one stepped Cho, out of the other stepped a young woman with bright red hair in a long plait down her back. Fred's jaw dropped to the ground.

'Ginny?'

Ginny Weasley flashed her brother a mocking smile. 'The one and only.'

Phannan scowled, 'Oh not cool. We just got our arses shined by a marine.'

It was now Phannan's turn to be mocked. 'Don't feel so bad flyboy. They were dropping me in and out of the exercise, right on your tails. Squadron Leader Chang wanted to see what you'd do about it. Fred, aren't you going to introduce me?'

Fred started, 'Oh, yeah. Ladies and gents, this is my little sister, Gunnery Sergeant Ginny Weasley, British Royal Marines. Ginny, this is Phoenix Squadron. I'm sure they'll introduce themselves one way or another.'

* * *

03 Apr 03: DownTime

1930h

'So, Gin,' said Fred, 'What brings you to Hogwarts? Like, last I heard you're unit was on the Wasp.'

'They are...' replied Ginny, '...at the moment. Command decided that our unit needed a bit of a less stressful posting for a bit, so we've been posted as part of the garrison here. Since I've been in St Mungoes since that whole Dunkerque cock-up I was sent straight here to meet them.'

Interesting thought Natalie is that true, or does Command think that they will be needed here shortly?

Then again there was no reason for them not to be here and units of marines didn't have much to do at the moment. Most of the covert stuff fell to the SAS.

Samantha Rheinburg was talking. 'When are they likely to be here?'

'Next couple of days. I think they're sending a Lynx over to pick Harry and the rest up or something like that.'

* * *

03 Apr 03: Junior Officers' Lines

2145h

Natalie slouched in her chair, tapping at the computer in her lap. Across the tiny living space a pair of QUAD electrostatic speakers, her prize possession, pumped out Groove Coverage. The seat itself was actually a recycled ACES II ejector seat, salvaged from the scrap heap and turned into a piece of heavy duty furniture. Short of money and hard pressed this type of "furniture" was quite common in the Union bases. There was a polite knock at the door.

'Yhello!'

Fred Weasley poked his head around the door. 'Mind if I come in?'

'Yeah, I do. Bugger off!'

Fred rolled his eyes, but entered anyway, laptop under his arm and slumped down against the wall.

'I was wondering if you had come up with anything,' he said.

Nat contemplated her computer screen. 'Not a thing. Everyone appears to be squeaky clean. You?'

Fred grimaced. 'Nothing. I don't like it when they're all clean, means we've missed something.'

'I know. You been over the fit-reps yet?'

Fred shook his head. 'Not totally and in those I have looked through there's nothing. Not a thing that could cause someone to act strange.'

'Oh come on. Phannan's got to have some sort of mental illness,' said Nat, face impassive.

Fred grinned. 'That's what I thought, but he's got nothing and I checked him three times.'

'Ok,' said Nat, 'We'll get together a list of all those who come from pure blood families and those who have been on extended leave since the beginning of the war then move from there. Oh, and we'll see if we can drag up some extended family histories as well.'

'What about the Imperious curse? Like, shouldn't we check all leave?'

Nat looked at him sadly, 'That's screened before anyone comes on base after leave. But brain washing, that we can't detect, but it takes time, hence the checks on extended leave.'

'Is this the Muggle thinking that Cho was talking about?'

'I think it might be.'

* * *

25 Apr 03: Junior Officers' Lines

Dawn

Rachel Holms lay in bed, extremely pissed off with herself for waking up this early. Sleep was getting to become a popular hobby amongst the personnel on the base. Endless missions, usually scramble missions at short notice, were becoming increasingly regular, almost once a day. Rachel wondered why she had woken up this early, there were no alarms or scramble alerts and it wasn't time for mess. She rolled over and tried to go to sleep. Dammit, she was fully awake now. Sighing she crawled out of bed, pulled on her boots and jacket then looked over at her room mate's bunk. That was what was wrong, no Natalie. Rachel wandered out of her room and took the lift to the castle above the base. She walked out into the grounds, doing up her jacket against the chill. She glanced toward the lake and then stopped to look harder. Down by the Diggory Memorial was a group of people. Rachel moved silently down to the group leaning against a tree to watch. Some of the other base personnel were watching silently. A man that Rachel recognized as the base's cleric was standing in front of the group.

'For they shall not grow old, as we who are left grow old. Age shall not weary them nor the years condemn...'

Rachel spotted Natalie, standing in the front rank, hands crossed, palm on palm behind her, legs apart, staring straight ahead, face impassive. Not in Union uniform, but in Air Force blues. Rachel slowly took in the rest of the group while the cleric continued the service. Some were in the blues, others in khaki and still others in white, but not a single Union uniform to be seen. In front of the statue of Cedric Diggory were three people, one from each service, Rachel now realized, heads down, hands resting across Steyr AUG assault rifles.

'...Lest we forget.'

Rachel sat down to watch the rest of the ceremony. When it was finished she walked over to where Natalie was talking in hushed tones to two others.

'Howdy.'

Nat turned to her. 'Hi.'

'I was watching the service, what was it?'

'ANZAC day, you probably have never heard of it.'

'Can't say I have.'

'That's why there are only Australians and New Zealanders here.' Nat brightened. 'Lets go find some food, I'm starving.'

It took them ten minutes to get to the officers' mess, other wise known as the Augur Inn. They walked in to find Phannan face down in his bacon and eggs. Nat walked over to him while Rachel looked on worriedly.

'Is he ok?'

Nat nodded then tapped Phannan on the shoulder. He sat up; a fried egg that had been part of his breakfast slowly peeled off his face and fell back to its resting place with a plop.

'Fzwtwhaaa'?'

A grin was spreading across Nat's face. 'You're meant to eat it dumbarse, not sleep in it.'

'Shut up, I'm tired an in need of caffeine. As supreme overlord of this mess hall and ranking officer I order you to get me a coffee, black one sugar.'

'Actually,' said a voice from behind them, 'I believe that I would be the ranking officer in this mess.'

Nat turned, standing in the entry to the hall stood Harry Potter.

'Hi Harry, Ron, Braniac. When did you lot get in?'

Harry spoke for the group. 'About half an hour ago.'

'And we're absolutely famished,' added Ron.

Nat saw Rachel gulp and realized that she had never met the Captain.

'Oh, yeah. Rachel, this is Captain Harry Potter, British Royal Marines; his 2IC Lieutenant Hermio'something Granger, otherwise known as "Braniac" and Gunnery Sergeant Ron Weasley. Harry, Braniac, Ron this is Pilot Officer Rachel Holms, newest member of Phoenix Squadron.'

Harry was about to open his mouth again when Phannan interrupted.

'Captain, at any other time I would be overjoyed to see you. However, I need a coffee and you seem to be distracting my servants. You, serving girl, coffee, now.'

Nat walked off to get Phannan's coffee for him, chuckling to herself as she went.

* * *

26 Apr 03: Main Briefing Amphitheatre - Hogwarts AFB

0700h

The next day found Phoenix Squadron's pilots in the briefing amphitheatre. Nat dropped into her customary seat next to Phannan, Rachel slotting herself in as the next down the line of chairs. The last of the members of Phoenix Squadron and Bolt Squadron took their seats and the doors sealed shut. The MP's went through their ritual of sweeping the room for bugs. When they pronounced it all clear Group Captain Madden took the podium.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, I will be brief and to the point. Phoenix Squadron, Bolt Squadron, you have been selected to participate in an up coming mission which is part of operation Deep Thunder. If you don't already know, Deep Thunder is the operation covering all offensive air strikes onto the mainland, so now you get to go and give old Voldie a taste of his own medicine. I don't know much about what you will be doing, you will be briefed when you reach your destination. You will report to Hogsmeade station at ten 1000h today, brooms and all. You can expect to be gone for about a week, so pack light. Any questions?'

One of the Bolt Squadron pilots raised a hand. 'Sir, do you know where we will be flying out of?'

Madden gave him a sad look. 'As I said, I know very little, so that's for me not to know and you to find out eventually. You really shouldn't go to sleep in briefings. Anyone else? Good. Just off the record, I wish I was going with you. I really feel like blowing the crap out of something at the moment.'

* * *

26 Apr 03: RAF Framlingham - South East England

2100h

Nat looked out the back of the truck that had brought the pilots from London to the airbase. High chain wire fences, topped and surrounded with razor wire encircled the base. The truck stopped and a harassed looking corporal pocked a torch in the back, checking everyone's ID. When he was gone the truck rumbled into the base. As they rolled along the road parallel to the strip Nat looked out the back again. There was a growing roar of jet engines, then a squeal as two Muggle jets touched down. The roar decreased as the planes rolled further along the strip.

The pilots were taken to the illustrious accommodation of the transit block. Their brooms were taken to a secure area. Then the pilots themselves were shown to their rooms. They were then given a map of the base and informed that the mess was open till twenty-two hundred, then left to their own devices. Nat looked around; the room she had been given was small and Spartan. A single bed, desk, shelves and draws all built into one unit and attached to the wall. And hanging cupboard built into the wall.

Phannan poked his head around the door. 'We're going to find some food, want to come?'

'Sounds like a plan.'

Outside were gathered most of Phoenix Squadron. After about ten minutes walking; a few wrong turns and a short run in with the ADGs' and their dogs the party made its way to the O's mess. Just as they were walking in there was a roar of jet engines. Nat turned to look. Long cones of flame trailing behind them the two Muggle jets thundered away into the night sky, afterburners blazing.

'Looks like we finally made it,' said Phannan.

'We would have made it earlier if Farden hadn't decided to try and pat that bloke's dog,' replied Bull.

'Well how as I meant to know that it was guard dog?'

Aaron looked speculative. 'Umm, lets see, the cams, the assault rifle and the fact that the dog was a German Shepherd might have had something to do with it.'

Nat rolled her eyes, she'd heard it before, and walked to the buffet. Rachel pulled in beside her.

'Do they always do that?'

'Only when they're not asleep but Aaron will do that to anyone.'

They made their way to an empty table and sat down to eat. Nat was half way through her pasta bake when the next group walked in. The flight suits immediately showed them up as Muggle crews. One was wearing a pair of wraparound chameleon anti-flash glasses, even though it was night time. Another one of the group said something to sunnies man then made and exaggerated motion of taking off his own glasses. Nat did a quick double take, if he hadn't been in a flying suit and lack of scar she could have sworn that Harry had just walked into the room. Harry look-alike turned the girl behind him and said something. She rolled her eyes skyward, pointed at sunnies then tapped the side of her head. The fourth member of the party was nodding in agreement. Sunnies gave the rest of the group a reversed "V for victory" sign and they wandered off toward the buffet. As they left Nat caught a glimpse of the flag on their shoulders. A light blue flag, with the Union Jack in the top left corner, the Southern Cross, a seven pointed star and a red kangaroo in a dark blue circle in the lower right corner.

Nat grinned. 'They're Raffies.'

Rachel looked at her strangely. 'They're what?'

'Raffies. Royal Australian Air Force.'

'Right, whatever yo recon.' Rachel put down her cutlery. 'Well, I'm done. Back to the lines?'

'Whatever.'