Battle Lines

Chapter 12: Bust a Move

30 Apr 03: O's Mess - RAF Framlingham

0550h

Natalie Boone sat alone at a table in the officer's mess scanning through the list of pureblood wizards serving at Hogwarts and who had contact with the Squadron. It was a short list:

NAME INITIAL RANK SERVICE NO. LOC.

Bull G. FLTLT AWM 24781 HWS

Chang C. SQNLDR AWF 16901 HWS

Delacour F. COL CWF 16867 HWS

Klivias J. PLTOFF AWM 30024 HWS

Payne Z. WOFF AWM 14112 HWS

Potter H. CPT MWM 11392 USS Wasp

Weasley F. FLTLT AWM 24553 HWS

Weasley G. FLTLT AWM 24552 HWS

Weasley R. GSGT MWM 11389 USS Wasp

Weasley V. GSGT MWF 11401 St. M

Some names she discounted, such as that of her commander and Harry. But others stood out. Delacour, F; Bull, G; Klivias, J. All people who were in close contact with the Squadron, two who were in it and one who may as well have been. A shadow fell across the table. Nat looked up; standing over her was Squadron Leader Wade.

'Mind if I sit down.'

'Fine sir.'

Wade sat down, setting his cup of coffee down on the table as he did so. He looked furtively around the mess, at this time of the morning it was nearly empty, then turned back to Natalie.

'Pilot Officer Boone right?'

Nat nodded.

'Good, I got a call from Intel a few days before you arrived about your investigation. Last night I got a call from your CO letting me know who to talk to...'

Nat raised one eyebrow. 'I'm not scanning sir.'

Wade pinched the bridge of his nose. 'That mission we flew, it had two purposes. One; to blow the crap out of the bad guys, and two, to find out if your traitor is in Phoenix Squadron or back at Hogwarts. Now you can't really argue that that mission was sabotaged. I looked at the satellite photos from half an hour before the mission, those Forts weren't there. I also looked at the reports from the SAS teams on the ground. They reported the enemy brooms being carried in under the tree canopy so that they wouldn't be seen, barely twelve hours before our raid. The enemy was pre-warned and had time to get defenses into position.'

'And yet we proceeded with the mission,' said Nat grimly. 'You decided to put us in the line of fire even though Intel knew that we were facing odds that we were totally unprepared for.'

'Hey, I only got this stuff a few hours ago. The threat assessment I got was the one that I delivered in your briefing. The bloody Spooks decided that it might alert your mole if the information was different and they just couldn't risk that. They would happily throw away two squadrons of pilots plus four good F-111 crews but they couldn't risk losing a traitor.' Wade's voice was bitter.

Nat grimaced. She didn't like being a statistic on someone's desk; an asset that could just be thrown away.

'They were ready when we came.' she said, brow creasing. 'Those lankies launched quickly, we couldn't have been on target for more than half a minute when they launched, to fast for a scramble. It was a nice touch that they retarded the launch so they didn't look too organised when we got there.'

'Correct, I think we can assume your traitor is in the Squadron.'

Nat nodded, he was right. Wade dug around in the pocket of his flight jacket and finally produced two one gigabyte USB memory sticks.

'Here, Chang dropped these around as well.' He said, sliding them across the table. 'They got the battle logs from everyone; gun-sight captures; the SAS reports; Intel reports and threat assessments; the recon photos as well as the damage assessments. Take a good look around the Forts in the damage assessment captures.'

With that Wade stood, drained the last dregs of coffee from his cup and headed for the door. Nat watched him go, swiping a packet of biscuits as he went.

"Take a good look around the Forts in the damage assessment captures."

Nat glanced around the mess; it was starting to fill up now. She would have to wait till she got back to the lines to check the pictures. She stuffed the USB's in her pocket, folded her laptop away and walked to the exit, nodding to the AC manning the desk on her way out.

It took Nat all of five minutes to get back to the lines; walking quickly, head bent in thought. She sat down on the bed, opened up her laptop, set it booting and jammed her chair under the door handle and pulled the USB memory out of her pocket. She selected one and slotted it into the port on her computer.

Bing! New device detected.

Nat grinned, nice to know that Microsoft could still state the obvious. She opened up the new "F" drive.

Damage assessment, images, slideshow.

The first image she was presented with was a high altitude, low angle shot of the entire target area. No good. She flicked through the files till she found what she wanted; a high resolution, black and white shot of the compound, taken from almost directly above. Nothing seemed out of order.

"Take a good look around the Forts..."

Ok, I will.

Nat zoomed in on a Fort,

Nothing wrong there.

She moved onto the next one.

What the?

She leaned closer to the screen. There, underneath the Fortress, a crater. She ran a check on the computer; the crater corresponded to the blast pattern for a seventy millimetre rocket. The hardstand was cratered and pockmarked, but there was no damage to the Fort. She zoomed out; all the Fortresses were there, not a single one was damaged, even though the base around them had been pounded into the ground. A quick check through the files found another image showing the target from a low angle. Nat zoomed back in on the Forts. There, just what she was looking for. A beam had fallen through a Fortress, with no damage to the craft itself.

Son of a bitch! They're illusions.

That settled it, there was a traitor, and it was someone in the Squadron. But if it was someone in the squadron....

'FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!'

Nat never finished that thought. From outside came the sound of running feet. Nat killed the power to her computer, grabbed the two USB drives and raced outside, kicking the chair away as she went. She was one of the first out. Aaron was already there, as were Fred and Cho. The rest emerged within the next thirty seconds. Last to emerge were Phannan and Bull, both looking decidedly wet with towels wrapped around their waists, obviously they had been caught in the shower.

'Figgin' Fireies,' growled Phannan, 'You can always count on them to try it once.'

Nat looked him up and down. 'Cold?'

'Hardy har har.' said Phannan. 'The wind here is a weapon of mass reduction.'

After Cho had done a quick headcount they were free to go back inside. Nat wandered back to her room and stopped dead. The place was a mess. It looked like a bomb had hit it. Someone had been through there in a hurry looking for something. Nat did a quick stock take of her underwear draw; it was all accounted for, so it hadn't been Phannan. Slowly she reached into her pocket and withdrew the two USB drives.

Someone wanted these. I wonder if there was an actual fire drill scheduled for today?

A quick call to the Fireies confirmed that, yes, there had been a fire drill scheduled for transit that day.

'Thank you.'

'No problem ma'am.'

Nat hung up the phone, interesting, very interesting. So had it been blind luck that the fire drill had been then, or was it planned? She stuffed her belongings back in her cupboard, then went back to the USB's. She opened up the report one and scrolled down through the files.

What the hell?

There, in the middle of the reports was a tiny text file, something that someone could have done on notepad in less than a minute. She opened it up.

Sleep with one eye open. Watch your back.

WES.

WES; that was Squadron Leader Wade's call sign. Obviously he thought that Nat may be in over her head. She read it over again then deleted it, erasing all trace of the message.

Sleep with one eye open.

* * *

02 May 03: Hogwarts Express

1500h

Nat settled into her seat as the train pulled out of the station. This wasn't a school run, just ferrying a few pilots back from their deployment. The express wasn't what it used to be either. Gone was the bright scarlet engine that had faithfully transported generations of Hogwarts attendees to their destination; that had been destroyed in a Death Eater raid during the outbreak of the war. The "express" was now a massive, armored, black affair; you could still see the red Communist stars on the paintwork. Two inch thick polycarbonate windows protected the carriages and could be further re-enforced by blast-shields. The forward and rear cars carried twin 20mm anti-aircraft cannons for self defence. The whole thing was pockmarked and scared from the numerous attacks it had fended off. The magical world really had changed. Nat opened up her laptop and inserted the USB device. The door opened admitting Fred, who plopped down opposite her.

'So, how did you like our little holiday?'

Nat looked at him over the top of the screen. 'It was good, nice to be out from underground for awhile, reminded me a bit of RAAF Fairbairn.'

'RAAF Fairbairn?'

'Where I did my flight training. In Canberra. Australia.'

'Yeah whatever.' said Fred. 'Have you got anything new on the traitor front?'

Nat spent the next few minutes filling Fred in on what she had gotten from Wade; the Forts, Intel and SAS reports. She left out mentioning the text file and the tip-off about the Forts; she wasn't to sure if Wade should have been looking through the information.

'Well I'll be.' said Fred. 'The traitor is in the Squadron. I was hoping that they wouldn't be, but...'

'We'll have to watch ourselves.'

'True.' Said Fred. 'Hey, have you finished with those USB's?'

'Yeah. Here, take them, have a look through, you'll see what I mean about the Forts.'

With that Nat pulled the USB out of her computer where it had just finished dumping the info across and handed both to Fred.

'I'll need the second one back at some point, but there's enough here to keep me interested for a while.'

'Thanks,' replied Fred, 'see you later.'

He stuffed the two drives in his pocket and headed for the door. Nat let him go then extracted a set of foldaway headphones from her duffle bag, plugged them into her computer and settled back to read the rest of the Intel report.

* * *

02 May 03: Hogwarts Express

2250h

Nat awoke with a start and looked around her. It was dark outside, green "Matrix" code dribbled down her computer's screen while the calming notes of Robert Miles played through her headphones.

Bugger.

She must have dozed off while reading one of the reports. She looked at the computer; she should probably finish reading the Intel stuff now. However her bladder was sending a warning signal.

* * *

The express whined along, armored bulk propelled by the twin steam turbines contained in the armored locomotive. Nat made her way slowly back from the rear end of the train, where the toilets were located, looking in the compartment windows as she did so. Cho, asleep; Phannan, Aaron, Rachel and Klivias playing poker; Bull and Farden, asleep; Fred with Samantha Rheinburg asleep across his lap...

Whoa, hold a second.

Nat backed up to the last compartment. Fred Weasley with Sam Rheinburg across his lap...

Blackmail heaven here I come.

Nat wandered off down the corridor chuckling quietly to herself.

* * *

04 May 03: Hogwarts AFB - Armoury

1830h

Nat aimed the Colt "Detective Special" revolver down the tunnel toward her target, twenty-five meters away.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Three neat holes appeared in the chest of the silhouette. Nat re-aimed, loosing off another two shots straight into the head area of the target, venting the frustration of the last few days. Her investigation was getting nowhere. She had read through all the reports and found nothing. If anything it had made her even more pissed off at the Spooks. Fred still hadn't returned the USB drives so she couldn't look at the battle logs of the Squadron. She opened up the gun, ejected the old cartridges and slipped in six new .38 rounds into the barrel.

Fucking. BALM! Bloody. BLAM! Spooks. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

She drew her wand with a practiced hand and blasted the target to smithereens, just for good measure. Breathing hard she lowered her weapon, rotated the barrel to safe the gun and took off her earmuffs as what was left her target slid toward her on its rails.

'Well, didn't someone get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.'

Nat spun around; sauntering toward her was Captain Harry Potter. On either side of him were Hermione and Ron.

'Yeah, just a little pissed off at Intelligence, that's all.'

'I can sympathise with that.' said the Captain. He held out a metal briefcase to her.

'Here, after your little performance on Azkaban we decided you should have something a little more interesting to play with rather than the Special.'

Nat took the case from him. On the top were two letters; "FN"

'Don't worry.' Said Granger. 'I've already got you permission to carry it on base.'

Nat opened the case. Inside was a handgun, a box of ammo, holster, magazines and other associated equipment. She lifted the gun out, the polymer body fitted comfortably into her palm. Ejecting the magazine she saw it was already loaded, the bullets looking more suited to an assault rifle than to a handgun.

'Whoa, I like. Thanks.'

'The FN Five-seveN.' Said Harry. 'Fires the same five point seven mill rounds as the P-90 SMG and will penetrate forty-eight ply CRISTAT body armor from fifty metres; twenty round magazine.'

Nat looked up from where she was fitting the gun's holster around her right thigh.

'Mind if I squeeze off a few shots?'

'Go right ahead.'

Nat set a new target into its holder and sent it sliding off down the tunnel. She jammed the magazine back into the Five-seveN, replaced her earmuffs and took aim at the target.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Four neat, tightly grouped holes appeared in the target's forehead. A grin spread across Nat's face, the gun had almost no recoil.

'I like it very much. Thank you. I guess I'll have to hand in my Colt now.'

'I guess you will.'

Nat looked at the little Colt revolver. It was hardy and reliable, but only carried six rounds and was slow to re-load. She could see the Five-seveN being a bit more useful if an emergency landing came to a firefight.

'We'll leave you to it.' Said Potter. 'Have fun.'

Nat grinned, 'Roger Wilco.'

* * *

Nat wandered up toward the officer's quarters, Five-seveN holstered comfortably by her side and its case tucked safely under her arm. The magazine currently held nineteen rounds, no use overstressing the spring. The other two spare mags were empty, still in their foam padded compartments in the box. She stopped outside Fred's room and banged on the door.

'Fred! You in there?'

The reply was slow coming. 'Uh, yeah.'

'Can I come in?'

'Uh. No.'

'Bad timing. Right?'

'Yes. Yes it is.'

'Right. Look, when you're ready can you give me those drives back?'

'Ok, I will. Now bugger off!'

'YES SIR!'

And I'll bet I'm not the only one screaming "YES SIR!" just at the moment either.

Nat wandered off down the hall toward her own quarters. Most people who passed her would have wondered why she was grinning manically at some sort of private joke; Rachel Holms was one of them.

'What's so funny,' said her roommate.

'Oh nothing, just caught Fred doing something he shouldn't have been doing.'

Rachel's expression went blank, Nat could see the cogwheels turning.

'Ok,' said Rachel finally, 'I don't particularly want to think about that. Oh here, these came for us, I picked up yours.'

Nat looked down at the small rectangle of card that she now held in her hand, and raised an eyebrow.

'Other side.'

'Oh, right.'

It was Rachel's turn to grin. 'I'm thinking of a word, it begins with "d" and ends in 'oufus.'

'Shut up or I'll shoot you.'

'What?'

Nat held up the metal case in front of Rachel's face.

'F-N, Five-seveN t-a-c-t-i-c-a-l.' said Nat, as if talking to an idiot. 'A present from the marines.'

'Ooh, Captain Potter.'

Nat's eyes narrowed. 'Are you suggesting something?'

'Oh no,' said Rachel, innocence masking her face, 'not at all.'

'Good. What is this thing,' said Nat, turning the card over.

'Changing the subject are we?'

Nat looked at the card.

INVITATION

You are cordially invited to the 81^st TFW dance to be held on the

10^th May 2003. 1900h - 2200h

Venue will be the main hangar of Hogwarts AFB.

Dress will be Dress Uniform, Mess Dress or Evening Wear.

No partners required.

Col. Gregory Symes.

OC 81^st TFW.

Nat looked over at Rachel. 'Let me guess, morale boosting exercise.'

'Probably, you going?'

'I'll have to think about it.'

'With Harry.'

'Shut the fuck up.'