Battle Lines

Chapter 16: Spy Games

11 May 03: Shell Crater - Hogwarts AFB

2204h

Nat poked her head over the top of the shell crater she had landed in. Less than fifty metres away sat the flaming wreckage of the Fort she had so recently commandeered. Beyond that she could still see the massive exchange of fire that was the main battle. Drawing her Five-seveN she released the mag, checking the number of rounds still in it, plenty left, then set about assessing her situation. Right now the stupidest thing she could do was to run toward the battle. The second stupidest would be to stay where she was, in what was rapidly becoming enemy territory. That settled it. Nat pulled herself out of the hole, and started leopard crawling toward the lines, over one hundred metres away. She hadn't had to do this since recruit training and had forgotten how frigging uncomfortable it was.

Oh well, beats being shot.

Reaching the razor wire Nat found what she was looking for, a tiny tunnel, not much more than a depression in the ground, running under the wire. An emergency entrance for those caught on the outside. She scrambled through the hole, dropping in a heap onto the floor of the trench. It was relatively quiet down this end of the trench, deserted. Everyone who could was now down near the main doors of the school, fighting desperately to repel the attack swarming through the broken wall. Resting against the side wall of the trench Natalie pulled out the small torch she carried, along with a map marking extraction points. The closest was just around the side of the school. Staying low, she headed toward the marked area.

* * *

The other end of the trench was a direct contrast to the relative peace near Nat. Tracer rounds screamed through the air, the explosion of shells bursting, and rattle of machinegun fire. Harry dropped back into the trench, G-36 dry. He swiped the empty mag away and rammed a new one into place. The Union troops wouldn't be able to hold much longer, they were running desperately low on ammo as wave after wave of enemy bodies surged up the hill toward them. He selected single fire on his rifle, the popped up over the top of the trench.

BANG!

His shot dropped an approaching enemy. Beside him Ginny was vigorously feeding the chain from a new box of ammo into her SPW. Harry raised the G-36 back onto his shoulder, looking through the scope. He worked quickly, dropping enemies as they ran toward him.

BOOM!

The tank round exploded up along the trench, bodies flew into the air. The trench collapsed in on the survivors, cutting Harry off from the school's main entrance.

'FUCK!'

Ginny was now up beside him, machinegun whirring. Darkies fell as the bullets riddled their bodies. There was an explosion further up the trench. Harry looked up, enemy troops were pouring through a gap in the razor wire.

'Ginny! Check left!'

Ginny swung her gun around, spraying fire toward the new attack. Tracers swept down the trench, the marines hit the deck as waves of fire swept over their heads. There was a scream as a young marine standing behind Harry fell, blood pouring from a wound in his gut. An absolute storm of bullets smacked into the ground around the Captain. There was no cover, just the trench walls directing fire toward them.

Time to make some cover.

Harry whipped up the M203 slung under his gun.

Phoom. BOOM!

The grenade launcher went off, sending its 40mm projectile into the earth. The grenade exploded, collapsing the trench wall. Harry ran forward, falling onto the newly created mound of dirt and rock, resting his rifle on top. Ginny dropped next to him, SPW already whirring. There was a thud as another body dropped on Harry's other side. He looked around, Ron was there, Jackhammer up and ready.

'Hey Harry,' he said breathlessly, 'how's things?'

More tracers riddled their makeshift barricade.

'Oh, just bloody peachy.'

'Righto.'

Through the smoke the first of the enemy troops appeared.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The Jackhammer fired in rapid succession. The emerging darkies fell to the ground, read wounds exploding as shot ripped into their bodies.

'Looks like this is about to get interesting.'

* * *

Nat crept slowly toward the extraction point. It was right next to the wall, between that and the trench lines. Also in the wall was a small door, heavily reinforced, but small never the less. There was also someone else there. Nat raised her pistol.

'Who's there?'

The person jumped then spun around, blond hair swinging across her face. Nat sighed with relief and lowered the pistol.

'Thank god, it's just you.'

Samantha Rheinburg seemed to relax. 'Hey Nat, see you got shot down too.'

Nat pulled the mag out of her gun, checking it for dirt. 'It would seem so.'

Sam looked at her. 'Is Fred still up there?'

'Last I heard he was.'

A shrill whistle could be heard above sound of the distant battle.

Sam seemed to smile to herself. 'Good to hear.'

There was a crunch of boots on gravel; Nat looked up, quickly sliding the mag back into her gun. She leveled it at where the sound had come from.

'Who goes there?'

Out of the darkness emerged a figure in a black robe. Behind it was a group of around twenty shock troops.

'Uh, Sam. Prepare to run.'

Nat felt a coldness rest against her temple; a coldness of metal.

'Put the gun down Boone, and I may not have to hurt you.'

'Sam...'

'Now!'

Nat dropped her gun onto the ground beside her. There was a clatter as the Five-seveN was kicked away.

'Now pass your wand back to me.'

Slowly Nat pulled her wand out of the specially made pocket in her jacket and handed it backwards. She felt it removed from her grasp. The coldness was removed form her temple. Her hands were pulled roughly down behind her back. There was a zipping noise as a set of flexi-cuffs were secured around her wrists. Samantha sidled around in front of Nat, Colt Detective Special leveled at Nat's head.

'So it was you,' growled Nat, 'you sold us out.'

Sam smiled at her. 'Yes, and I must admit you have been disturbingly difficult to get rid of. Fred was, particularly useful, in covering my tracks...'

'You bitch.'

Sam took no notice of her. 'It's surprisingly easy to obtain information at certain, times.'

Nat's fists clenched behind her that was not a piece of information she had wanted to know. Samantha was right in front of Nat now; she could almost see the bullet in the revolver's chamber.

'Just one question Samantha. Why did you do it? You're not even pureblood.'

Sam looked pityingly at her. 'Why? Why did I do it? Did you really think the Union could win this war? Did you? The Union is too weak; it can't stand much longer against the Dark Lord. I finally came to my senses; saw an opportunity to make sure I was popular with the new management. You, on the other hand, are going to die...'

Phew. Phew. Thud!

The robed man dropped, clutching two wounds in his leg.

Samantha spun round, momentarily forgetting Nat. 'What the hell!'

Nat saw her chance. Her foot connected with Sam's hand, sending the gun there flying. Sam spun back around to face her, fists coming up in a fighting stance. Nat jumped into the air, bringing her hands around, up under her feet so they were now in front of her. Sam swung, Nat ducked under the blow, then brought her own fists around, still bound together, king hitting the other woman. Sam went flying, hit the ground and rolled up on her feet. Nat looked around, to see Greg Bull emerging from the trench, leveling a silenced Berretta at her. He squeezed the trigger.

Crack!

The flexi-cuffs fell away.

Nat looked at Sam. 'Now we're even bitch.'

Nat fell back into the standard hand to hand combat pose, left foot forward. Sam attacked, sending a flurry of blows at Nat's chest. Nat fell back, it was all she could do to stop them from hitting her; Sam was good. The inevitable happened, Sam went low, fist connecting with Nat's solar plexus. She doubled over, winded. Sam's next shot hit her hard in the kidneys, then in the head. Nat went down, rolling on the ground. Samantha turned away, looking for something on the ground. Nat crawled painfully to her knees shaking her head to clear her vision. Her opponent was bending down, picking up her revolver.

Oh shit.

Adrenalin surged through Nat's body. It happened in slow motion. Nat was up and running, Sam turning to face her, gun coming up. She saw the enemy's eyes widen in horror. Nat leapt, flying through the air. She hit Sam, crash tackling her linebacker style, baring her to the ground. Then Nat was on top of her, raining punches on Sam's face. There was a satisfying crack as the woman's nose broke. Suddenly Samantha rolled, grabbing Nat by the throat and throwing her off her. Both came up together, blood streaming from Sam's nose. It was only then that Nat realized just how much bigger the other woman was. Sam must have been a good six inches taller than her. Nat watched as she picked something up off the ground, a short length of reinforcing steel, probably left over from the construction of one of the bunkers that dotted the trench lines. Sam rushed her, holding the rio like a sword, when she came into striking distance of Nat she swung, a big, clumsy swing. Nat dropped, falling on her side, supported by her arm and lashed out with a vicious sidekick. The full force of the kick landed on Sam, there was a crack of ribs breaking and the piece of rio went flying. Nat kicked again, kneecapping her opponent. The joint bent in a direction it was never meant to go. Sam screamed and went down. Nat picked herself up, grabbing her Five-seveN from where it lay on the ground. She walked over; looking down the length of her gun at Sam lying sprawled on the ground.

The other woman looked up. 'See you in hell.' Then she bit down.

Oh fuck.

Nat dropped beside her and wrenched Samantha's mouth open, there it was, a small plastic casing.

Cyanide capsule.

Swearing to herself, Nat retrieved her wand then stood up. There was a tap on her shoulder, she swung around, gun up.

'Take it easy Pilot Officer, I'm on you side.'

'Bull?'

Greg Bull smiled at her. 'Yes, I have been known by that name. I guess I should re-introduce myself. My name is Damon Waters; I work for MI-5.'

Another fucking spook.

Nat didn't lower the gun. 'Let's see some ID first.'

Sighing, Bull (No, Waters Nat reminded herself) pulled a card out of his jacket and threw it to her. Nat picked it up; Waters' face looked up at her from the card, along with his thumbprint, signature, agent number and a smart chip embedded in the plastic. It looked in order. Reluctantly Nat lowered the pistol.

'Happy?'

Nat nodded and threw the card back to him.

'Hey, what happened to the shockies?'

Waters looked around. 'I took care of them, without their controller it wasn't much work. What about her? Is she still alive?'

Nat looked to Samantha. 'Unfortunately no; cyanide pill.'

Waters swore under his breath.

'What I want to know,' said Nat motioning to the dead enemy, 'is did these have backup? I mean, what if Rheinburg turned on them? They must have had her covered.'

'I know, it's worrying,' returned Waters, 'but...'

He never finished the sentence. Waters' eyes went wide, blood dribbling from his mouth, then he collapsed forward, a bullet wound in his back.

Oh shit, snipers.

Nat threw herself sideways just as the next bullet slammed into the dirt beside her. She ran toward the door, more bullets thudded into the ground around her. Nat reached the door and pressed her palm onto the reader. There was a click as the lock opened. Nat was through the door, closing it behind her just as two more rounds smacked into the dirt. It took Nat a moment to get her bearings; the main hall was that way. She trotted off in search of safety, an extraction point, and really big guns.

* * *

Harry threw himself over the mound of earth, just as tracers slammed into it. He hit the ground, rolling back up onto his feet, then turned around, landing back on the mound and sending automatic gunfire back toward the enemy. They had been pushed back this far, the final line of defence, a tiny stretch of trench between the collapsed wall and the main entrance of Hogwarts. The floor of the trench was littered with the dead and dieing, soaking in their own blood. There was a thump as another man landed next to him; he looked over in the eyes of one Lieutenant Samson. Harry's gun went dry; he swiped the mag away, ramming a fresh into place. He looked down into his ammo pouch, two mags left.

'Sir!' shouted Samson over the gunfire. 'We can't hold here much longer! We're low on ammo, we won't last another attack!'

'I know that Lieutenant! But if we move now they'll get us before we can get inside.'

Samson nodded, then turned back to the enemy, letting loose with his Steyr. The gun went dry. The empty mag clattered to the ground as Samson inserted a new one. The lieutenant looked sadly into his pouch, last mag. He raised his eyes slowly.

'Captain, be ready to move you men, we'll buy you what time you need.'

'Samson, I can't let you do that.'

'Sir, if you stay, we all die. Your unit is mostly wizards and witches, and the Union needs those more than it needs a bunch of line grunts like us. Now get your men ready.'

Harry was about to open his mouth, but something in Samson's eyes stopped him, the man wasn't going to back down.

'Ok lieutenant, your call. I don't like it though.'

'You don't have to sir.' Samson pulled a long blade from his webbing. 'Royal Australian Infantry! Bravo Company! Affix bayonets!'

Harry moved back toward the main entrance to the school; collecting his marines as he did so. The last he found was Hermione.

'What's going on?' she asked.

'They're buying us time to get into the school. Be ready to move.'

Back behind him he could see the Australian troops readying along the sides of the trenches. They knew what was coming.

'BRAVO COMPANY! CHARGE!'

Samson leapt over the sides of the trench, what was left of his company following; sprinting toward the enemy lines. A bayonet charge; in this modern age a last desperation maneuver, a suicide maneuver.

Harry turned back to his own troops. 'GO! GO! GO! Back to the school!'

They ran. Up, out of the trench, sprinting for the main doors of the school. Other units joined them, flooding in through the doors. Harry dived behind the sandbags just as tracer fire from the enemy screamed over his head.

Samson was gone.

* * *

Nat opened the next door, and stepped through into an armory.

Nice.

She made short work of the locks on the gun cabinets, opening their doors to reveal rows of weaponry. The section containing assault rifles was empty, but that wasn't a problem. She found what she was looking for; clothing first. She strapped on the black Special Forces flack vest over her flight jacket, adjusting it to fit snugly and not move around. On went a black Kevlar helmet and a set of clear Smith and Wesson "Code 4" flack glasses. The heavy pilot gauntlets were also exchanged for a set of soft leather gloves. She looked down at the vest. Aside from the usual storage areas it also boasted a number of long, thin pockets, running vertically down it, just the right size for P-90 magazines.

Gee, what a pity.

Nat moved to the next locker, removing one of the P-90 sub-machineguns that resided there. She found the empty mags as well as the ammo boxes. The next ten minutes were spent loading up the magazines for the P-90, as well as replenishing her supplies for her pistol. Next up were grenades, two frags and two flashers. She inspected the helmet she had picked up. No radio.

Damn.

Nat hefted up the P-90. Time to go and do some damage. Turning toward the door she noticed something else. There hanging in a locker; an Armalite MH-12 maghook. Nat grabbed it, securing the shotgun style holster across her back, then stepped out of the armory.

* * *

More tracers flew into the Hogwarts foyer, slamming into the sandbags. Harry dived for cover as another volley slammed into the bags. There was a scream as the marine manning the .50 cal took a hit. More rounds slammed into him, holding him upright long after he had died. Harry ducked sideway, taking up the position at the gun. He looked down; just over half a box of ammo left, then pointed the thing out the door, squeezing the triggers. Bullets exploded out of the barrel, ripping into the enemy troops trying to get into the foyer.

KABOOM!

The tank shell screamed in through the main entrance, slamming into the balcony overlooking where Harry was. The big stone structure began to crumble.

Oh fuckberries.

'Everybody out!'

Harry dived out of the bunker, scrambling for the nearest doorway as tones of rock slammed into the bunker, crushing all beneath it. Another tank round flew through the entrance, annihilating more of the room. What light came in through the doors was blotted out as a giant stepped through, holding a minigun like a pistol.

'FALL BACK!'

BBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

The giant opened up. Supermachinegun fire slammed into the Union positions, slicing clean through sandbags. Those that hadn't taken up in doorways were torn to shreds as the tracers stitched the entryway. Then came the troops, surging around the giant's feet, AK's up and firing. The marines ran.

'Command, we've lost the foyer! The enemy is entering the castle!'

* * *

Colonel Fleur Delacour listened in horror as Harry's transmission reached her.

'...enemy is entering the castle!'

That was it, they had lost. Smoke drifted through the command centre, rising from shattered computer screens. The high discharge of magical energy had penetrated the shielding, shorting out their circuitry. Operators lay face down in pools of blood where their consoles had exploded. Fleur turned away from the large tactical readout that took the centre of the floor and surveyed the room.

'Ok people, pack it up, we're moving out.'

A lieutenant she recognised moved to where a sledgehammer resided in its case; ready to smash the computers.

'No Jason, that won't be necessary. Everyone out!'

The Command Centre staff filed out. Leaving Fleur alone with her solitary marine escort; she strapped on a flack jacket then set the comms to a wide broadcast.

'All units this is Colonel Delacour! Begin final phase evacuation! All remaining personnel are to fall back to designated extraction points! Self destruct sequence has been initialized; you have thirty minutes to reach a safe distance. No further warnings will be given! Good luck and Godspeed. This is Hogwarts Command signing off!'

She pulled off the headset, then turned to the console in front of her. Removing the key from around her neck she inserted it into the console, then entered an eight digit code. When she turned the key a large red readout started to count down from thirty minutes. She then picked up the MP-7 lying on the desk beside her.

'Ok,' she said to her escort, 'lets go.'

* * *

Harry heard Fleur's transmission. Swearing to himself he set his watch counting down from thirty minutes. Bullets smashed into the walls around him. He dived for the ground. One of the marines in his unit wasn't so lucky, red blood exploded from his chest and he went down. He looked around; there were only four of them left, Ginny, Hermione, Ron and himself.

Back together again.

Ron swung around. 'Harry! Duck!'

Harry hit the deck.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Ron's Jackhammer fired, decimating the enemy behind them. But there were more coming. It was a game of cat and mouse, and there were more cats than mice.

'Braniac! Which way!'

'Next right then down!'

More fire raked across the floor. Harry dived sideways, crashing through the door of an abandoned classroom. The other three followed him in as a wave of solid metal screamed down the corridor. Ginny was there, tipping over the oak teacher's desk, and hunkering down behind it. Darkies appeared in the doorway; Harry dived for cover as their fire raked the floor, kicking up debris. He slammed into the floor behind the overturned desk.

Ginny had her two MP-7s out. 'We can hold them here sir.'

'Until we run out of ammo.'

Ginny popped up over the desk, a machine pistol in each hand, dropping the darkies entering their room. Another two filled their places; Harry dropped one with his G-36 while Ron nailed the other. Suddenly the sound of gunfire erupted from outside.

KABOOM!

The frag grenade exploded, metal shards flying everywhere, cutting down the enemy outside. More tracers shot down the corridor, dropping those that were left. A head appeared round the door; and was nearly taken off by a paranoid Ron's automatic shotgun.

'Hey, hey, hey! Watch the friendly fire dipshit!'

The figure returned around the doorway, loading a new magazine into its P-90. Harry noted that this figure was distinctly feminine.

'Nat, is that you?'

Nat grinned out from behind her glasses. 'The one and only. Ok, twenty-five words or less, what's happened; and who was the dozy barstard with the shotgun?'

Ron raised a sheepish hand. 'That would have been me.'

Hermione was climbing out from behind a barricade. Ginny was already taking up a covering position on the door next to Ron.

Harry turned to Nat. 'Pretty much everything has gone pear shaped. We lost the foyer, the enemy secured that I assume and now seems to be hunting us down in small packs. The final phase of evac has been called so we have...' he glanced at his watch '...twenty-eight minutes to be sixteen miles away.'

'That was more than twenty-five words.'

Harry gave her a grin that was all sarcasm. 'Well I'm so sorry. Now we're trying to reach our extraction point. It's a small side door in the base of the castle.'

Nat pulled out her map and pointed to where she had met up with Sammy. 'What. This one?'

'Yeah, that's the one.'

'Sorry sir, that's a no go. I was just there, it's covered by snipers.'

'Great. There's too many of us to extract from another point. Anyway the choppers are pulling out in ten minutes. If we're not at the point at that time we're screwed.'

'Joy.'

'Also,' continued Harry, 'I need something from Dumbledore's office...'

* * *

The marines crept silently through the corridors of Hogwarts, Nat taking point, a long silencer now attached to the front of her P-90. Next came Harry, followed by Hermione and Ron with Ginny bringing up the rear, katana unsheathed. They reached the corridor that lead to the Headmaster's office. Nat poked her head around the corner, quickly withdrawing it again. She backed up, then with military precision held out a fist, thumb down, followed by two fingers; Two bad guys, just around the corner.

Phew! Phew! Phew!

The first dark wizard dropped. The second whirled around; three more shots entered his brain, dropping him as well. The marines emerged from around the corner, Harry making a beeline for the gargoyle outside the office.

'Sherbet Lemmon.'

The gargoyle jumped aside, Harry stepped onto the ascending staircase, disappearing from view. Nat watched him go, then set about removing the silencer from her gun. If it came to a firefight now, it was likely to be a big one; the silencer would just overheat and jam the gun. It was two minutes before Harry returned, a sword strapped across his back. Nat didn't ask what it was for.

'What now?' asked Ginny.

Harry looked at his watch. 'Well, we've missed our ride out. We've currently got fifteen minutes to get out of here.'

Ron looked over at him. 'Can't we Floo out?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No, Hogwarts was cut off from the Floo network when the war started. Honestly, don't you ever read the RI's?'

Nat was thinking, there was something...

'The Assault Barge, it's still in the hangar, if we can get down there I reckon I could fly it out.'

Harry looked at her. 'You sure? Where did you learn to fly that sort of thing?'

'Flight Sim Ninety-Eight. I'm Muggle born remember, it can't be any less maneuverable than the Seven Three Seven.'

'Ok, what ever you say.' said Harry. 'Right people, we've got fifteen minutes to be a long way from here, let's go.'

They ran off, heading for the hangar.

'Right Braniac. What's the fastest way to the elevators?'

'That would be down the moving staircase.'

'Than that's where we go.'

The pelted through the corridors of Hogwarts, running hard.

'Staircase is just around this corner.'

Nat rounded it, coming face to face with almost twenty darkies.

'CONTACT!'

Tracers ripped through the air. Nat's gun came up, spraying fire toward the enemy. She ducked into a nearby doorway, bullets zipping past her head. She popped out from cover, loosing a volley of fire just as Ginny came round the corner, flying through the air sideways, Matrix style, an MP-7 in each hand, fingers jammed down on the triggers. She was still airborne as the others rounded the corner, guns up.

'Nat! Covering fire!'

Nat jammed her finger down on the trigger of her gun, sending fire toward the enemy at a rate of almost nine hundred shots per minute. The trio sprinted past her, disappearing into the next doorway. Ginny had hit the ground, rolling upright onto her feet and running after her comrades. More tracers whizzed past Nat's position, slamming into walls, kicking up sparks and rock. Ron appeared around the doorway, Jackhammer up. Nat seized the moment, sprinting forward, small explosions riddling the rock next to her as bullets slammed into it. She threw herself through the doorway just as more fire ripped into the floor beneath her. Inside she met with an amazing sight. The moving staircases; they swung leisurely across the void, a hole running all the way down to the floor far below; layer, upon layer of stairs; now connecting this floor; now that one.

'Hey Nat, snap out of it.'

Nat looked up, Harry was already on the staircase Ginny, Hermione and Ron were with him. Suddenly the staircase moved.

'Hurry up Nat!'

Bullets pinged off the doorframe; the first enemy rounded the bend. Nat's burst hit him square in the chest. But another was there. The staircase was swinging away, out of reach.

'Nat!'

'GO! I'll catch you up later!'

The staircase swung away from her platform, the marines sheltering behind the balustrade. Nat had her gun up, firing as the enemy rounded the door. The P-90 went dry. Nat wrenched out the magazine, slamming a new one into place, she looked up to see two darkies leveling their AK's right at her head!

Ok fuckberries

Nat threw herself off the platform into the void. Tracers screamed over her head. With her spare hand she unshipped her maghook, took aim and fired.

Phoom!

The line spooled out, wiggling along behind the head of the weapon. The prongs of the grappling hook sprung out and slammed into the railing of Harry's stair. Nat pressed the trigger, clamping the weapon's jaws on the line and swinging out into space. Where the marines had some cover, Nat didn't. Enemy tracers whipped past her head; she grabbed the P-90 hanging around her neck, returning fire. It was an incredible sight. The lone figure, hanging one handed underneath the stair, firing wildly up as tracers whizzed past her head. More darkies had appeared on the platform. Rounds slammed into the stair railing above Nat, kicking up sparks and showering her with rock fragments. She double tapped the trigger of the launcher.

Snick. Snick. Snick.

The arms on the grappling hook retracted. Nat dropped onto the staircase passing beneath her. She hit the ground, her knees collapsed and she went rolling down the case, as sparks hammered the rock, barely inches behind her. She came to a crashing halt against the wall on the next platform. Across the chasm she could see the marines, clustered in a similar alcove one story above her.

'Meet you at the bottom!'

With that Nat popped out around her cover, loosing another volley up at her assailants. Keeping them busy till her stair aligned itself with the next platform down. One of the troops on the platform was leveling a long tube at her. There was puff of smoke, then the roar of a rocket engine.

Oh SHIT!

'RPG!'

Nat threw herself down the next stair, aligned or not, as the Rocket Propelled Grenade slammed into her alcove. She rolled down the stair...

...right off the end!

In desperation she flung out a hand, grabbing onto the end step, just. She looked up; the stair was coming into line. When it did, her fingers would be crushed.

Oh this just keeps getting better.

Nat let her P-90 drop, hanging by the strap around her neck.

Twelve inches.

She grabbed hold of the step with her other hand.

Ten inches.

Nat began swinging herself back and forward. Back and forward, back and forward; building up momentum.

Two inches.

With gymnastic grace Nat swung her feet up above her, locking them around one of the stone pillars supporting the handrail and at the same moment released her grip on the stair.

CLUNK!

The steps locked into place, leaving Nat hanging upside-down from the railing. Tracers zinged past her head. The enemy had somehow gotten onto the platform above her, and were now firing down the shaft. Nat grabbed her P-90 and swung it up, green laser sight cutting through the dust and smoke. She jammed her finger down on the trigger. Tracers from her SMG screamed past her feet, flying up at the enemy. The first was hit in the head. He fell forward, dropping past Nat, missing her by inches, then CRUNCH! He hit the floor, now just two stories below. His mate seemed to have retreated momentarily. Nat let her gun go again then swung herself up, bending at the waist and grabbing hold of the railing hauling herself over, just as another volley sped past. The next case was blessedly in line. Nat sprinted down it, bullets ricocheting off the stonework. She stopped in the next alcove, sending a burst of fire up at the enemy. Her shots hit him square in the gut and he fell screaming off the platform. Nat dropped the near empty mag from her weapon, setting a new one in place then peeked around the wall. Tracers slammed into the stone and she withdrew her head, they were all at the top, firing down on her. There was no door off this platform. It was stay there, or try the stairs. She looked around again, bringing her gun around and loosing a volley before she was forced to withdraw again. Ok, maybe the stairs were not such a good idea; not unless she could move really fast. Nat looked around the alcove again. Paintings and a suit of armor holding a mace and...

...a shield.

'Mind if I borrow this?'

Nat wrenched the shield away from the suit; it was rectangular and made of metal, perfect. Dropping the P-90 again she grabbed one of the flash-bangs from her webbing. She pulled the pin with her teeth, letting the lever fly off.

One motherfucker, two motherfucker...

Nat threw the grenade straight up.

...four motherfucker, five mo...

Nat closed her eyes.

Flash. BANG!

The stun round went off, filling the stairwell with bright white light. Nat didn't miss her chance; she flung the shield onto the railing and jumped aboard. She sped off down the banister, crouched low, weight balancing the shield, sparks kicking up behind her. She was halfway down before the enemy realized what was happening. Bullets smacked into the stone behind her. She reached the end, jumping off the shield and hitting the deck, she rolled onto her feet, P-90 already up. She pointed the gun back up the shaft, covering the marines as they made their way down.

Three minutes later they were all at the bottom.

Nat looked over to Harry. 'How much longer?'

'Eight minutes.'

'And we'll need five to get out of range of the blast.'

Hermione was already at the elevators. 'Power's cut, they're not working. Give me a hand over here.'

Ron ran over and together they forced the doors apart. The lift shaft was pitch black. Harry walked over, pulling a magnesium flare from his webbing. He pulled the tab and the flare ignited in a bright white light. He dropped it down the shaft, the light getting smaller as it fell.

'What level is the hangar on?'

'Level twelve, I think.' replied Nat.

'Then we can safely assume the lift is below where we want to go.'

Harry reached out, grabbing the lift wires, the others followed, sliding down into blackness. Nat was last down, the wire slid through her hands, the steel heating her gloves.

CLANG!

She hit the metal roof of the lift car, the others were already there. Ron leaned over to her.

'Lift is stopped at level twelve.'

Harry was already removing the hatch in the top of the lift. Silently he dropped down in the car's interior. Nat followed him through; light from the flare was coming through the hatch. In the gloom she could make out the doors, they were open. The rest of the marines slipped silently into the car's interior.

'Look sharp people,' whispered Harry.

Silently they exited the car, through the security check point and into a corridor. It was deserted. Across from them the main doors of the hangar lay open. Nat and Ginny were first through, guns up. It was sensible as they had the most ammo left. Over the far side of the room Nat saw a group of people clustered around an A-10 loading cart. Kalashnikovs and robes were silhouetted by the light between them. Ron was next through the door, followed by Harry and Hermione. Nat tapped Harry on the shoulder, cupped her hand around her eye, pointed to the group, the held out the thumb down sign. Harry nodded. Slowly, silently the marines made their way across the hangar. Nat looked back; they were about half way across, right out in the open. One mistake here and...

CLANG!

Ron looked up from where he had knocked over the cart of tools.

'Sorry.'

'Hey!' the call came from across the hangar. 'Who goes there!'

'RUN!'

Nat was up and running, the rest of the group behind her. Muzzle flashes illuminated the other side of the hangar. Tracers hammered the ground around Nat, their trails leaving bright afterimages on her eyes. She reached the ramp of the Barge and threw herself inside as more fire slammed in around her.

Harry was in next. 'Nat! Get us out of here!'

'Roger!'

She raced up to the bridge of the Barge it was approximately the same layout as that of the Fortress. From below she could hear gunfire as the marines held the door. Nat jumped into what she remembered as the Helm's position and scanned the board in front of her.

There.

She flicked what she figured were the start up switches. The bridge came alive and the vessel filled with a deep hum. Nat rammed up the lever marked "assault doors", flicking on the landing lights as she did so.

Ok.

There was the throttle, with a small lever near her thumb that assumeably controlled altitude. The rest was just a joystick and rudder pedals. Nat grabbed the throttle, pushing the lever up, the Assault Barge rose into the air. She jammed the throttle right back, simultaneously stamping on the rudder pedals. The nose of the craft swung around, Nat pulled it out of reverse thrust and jammed the throttle right forward. The craft accelerated away from the castle, drives whining. Harry joined her on the bridge.

'How much longer!' called Nat over her shoulder.

'Three minutes!'

Nat gritted her teeth. This was going to be close.

The Assault Barge screamed away from Hogwarts, on a flat course designed to get it as far away as possible as quickly as possible. It thundered out over the lake and across the forest. Time ticked away.

'Ten seconds to go,' said Harry.

Nat glanced at the range counter, showing the distance form the castle.

Fifteen point five miles.

'Eight seconds.'

Point six miles.

'Six. Five. Four.'

Point eight.

'Two. One.'

The two type 240 plasma blast warheads, buried in the base, exploded.

Their effect was awesome.

The side of the cliff literally flew out over that lake, the castle shooting up into the sky, before superheated plasma engulfed both, vaporizing them instantly. A gigantic shockwave expanded out from the epicenter, destroying everything in its path, the lake was instantly vaporized. Trees in the forest erupted into flame before being swept away by the pressure wave.

It caught up with Nat's Assault Barge right on sixteen miles. The controls bucked in her hands and the Barge was thrown forward as the massive pressure wave hit it, sending it tumbling through the air. Alarms screamed; Nat was thrown against her crash webbing as the transport bucked and rolled out of control. Then it was past. Slowly Nat regained control of the craft and one by one the alarms quieted.

They had made it.

Just.