False Flag

Chapter 26

False Flag

BAM!

Alastor Moody's natural reaction to the free fall was to scream. He opened his mouth only to be gagged by a rush of air. When the tree branches pelted him, he summoned the Protection Charm on instinct just in time. He bounced off the sloped ground at an odd angle, and his body rolled downhill like an out of control rag doll. Disoriented and winded, he found it impossible to get his bearings. He struggled to apply an appropriate spell, but panic denied him the luxury of reason.

Moody's training took over; he spread out his limbs and the world stopped spinning. He slid on the scouring terrain, rocks grating through his clothes. He dug his nails into the earth, ignoring the pain from the cold dirt that flayed the skin from his hands.

When he finally came to a stop, he opened his eyes to see his feet dangling over a precipice. A mere three fingers were leveraged behind a shard of granite.

A dark figure stood at the ledge. The loose gravel that it kicked over the side served to garner Moody's attention. The green light that primed the tip of the wand in its hand revealed its intentions. Moody's free hand still managed to retain its hold around the wand he had recovered from the crime scene...the wand with the familiar grainy texture. He brought it to bear. "Expluso!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Moody could feel his grip slipping, his precarious position losing the battle for him. The enemy sniggered as his Killing Curse quickly gained ground against the disadvantaged Auror. Moody closed his eyes before the oncoming green glow.

"Stupefy!"

Dumbledore's familiar voice ended the duel; the dark figure slumped to the ground. The gentle, old wizard stepped into view and quickly levitated Moody onto his feet. "Are you all right, Alastor?"

Moody discarded the useless wand. He was still shaken from the ordeal but managed to answer, "Yeah." He looked to his would-be assassin and gasped in recognition. "Auror Murphy?"

"You know him?"

"He's one of the missing Aurors from Wolf squadron." Moody knelt over the semiconscious Auror and slapped him awake. "Murphy, what is the meaning of this?"

Murphy slowly opened his eyes and regarded him weakly. "I never did like you," he said, and he breathed his last.

After Moody's repeated attempts to revive the corpse, Dumbledore put his hand gently on Moody's shoulder. "Suicide pact... it's a special type of wizard's oath. The sanction for failure is death."

"I know. It hardly seems necessary."

Dumbledore nodded weakly. "A disturbing indication of the lengths our malefactors are willing to go."

"This can't be a coincidence coming after Ozymandias' death," Moody thought aloud. "They must've diverted our jump point; we weren't supposed to make it back."

"It's hard to believe that Aurors are capable of these acts. But they do possess the qualifications."

Moody rose and dusted himself off. "I certainly would've fallen prey to his trap if it weren't for you, Professor."

"You're quite welcome, Alastor..." A sudden light-headedness caused Dumbledore to stumble. He held onto the young wizard for support and snorted in odd amusement. "I'm afraid the trap set for me, on the other hand, wasn't entirely unsuccessful."

Moody steadied him and helped him back to his feet. He noticed a trickle of blood coming from under Dumbledore's sleeve. "We've got to get you to Mungo's..."

Just then Edgar's voice boomed in the distance. "PROFESSOR... SHACKLEBOLT... MOODY?"

Dumbledore and Moody shared a look of apprehension. "Go to him, Alastor. Quickly!"

"Are you sure?"

"Hurry, before it's too late."

Moody reluctantly left Dumbledore and sped off in the direction of Edgar Bones' voice.

"HELLO?"

The echo was misleading; Moody paused briefly and listened intently in the darkness.

"WHERE IS EVERYBODY?"

For Merlin's sake, Edgar! With renewed bearings Moody ran toward Bones. He clenched his wand between his teeth as he took out his invisibility cloak...it wasn't going to be big enough. Engorgio! He leapt over the next hedge and found the outline of Edgar Bones wandering about in the shadows. Before Bones could say anything else, Moody tackled him. Muffliato!

The cloak settled over them.

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

Even under the cover of the Muffliato Charm, neither Moody nor Bones dared to utter a sound amidst the five dark figures of Wolf Squadron. It was impossible to make out their faces behind the deadly green glow of their wands. However, Moody recognized each of their voices.

The first voice sounded like Auror Radler. "I could've sworn this is where I spotted that pogue Bones."

"Spread out," the leader, Auror Brignast, commanded. "Standard search pattern."

"We're one man short. This would be easier with Murphy in the mix," Auror Terrence Sweets said.

"He's taking care of Dumbledore and Moody, dear brother," Auror Tabitha Sweets answered, tapping her ear. "Although, he has yet to check in on the slug line."

"I wouldn't worry, girl, you know how Murphy enjoys his work." Auror Whitney's gruff voice was unmistakable. "Besides, Dumbledore is a fossil and Moody is just a piss-artist." The burly Auror set down the cloth sack that he was carrying and undid the clasp. "This is the only one we need to watch out for in my opinion."

Moody resisted the urge to pounce then and there as Whitney uncovered Shacklebolt's barely conscious form, bound and gagged, underneath the cloth. She stirred when Whitney shook her.

"Maestro's Number One, eh?" Radler said, looking on. "Why is she still breathing, then?"

"Because..." Whitney trailed off as his hand slowly ventured higher up Shacklebolt's inner thigh and disappeared under her skirt. He sneered when her back arched. "I plan on taking this witch down a peg or two first."

"Stay on task, Whitney," Brignast said evenly. "We're not taking any chances. I'm giving Murphy five more minutes, and then we'll sanitize the area."

Underneath the cloak, Brignast's last order gave Edgar enough pause to test the protection of Moody's Muffliato Charm. "Why does 'sanitizing' sound like it'll be a bad thing for us?"

Moody cursed, confirming Bones' instincts, and said, "Get your wand at the ready."

"You knocked it out of my hand when you tackled me," Bones replied, rubbing his neck. "Ouch, by the way."

"Sorry." Moody reached into his sleeve and handed his reserve wand to Bones. "We don't have much time."

Bones took the proffered wand tentatively. "What do you want me to do?"

"If they're following protocol, then they're most likely hocked up on meerkat essence. So, when I throw off the cloak, I need you to conjure your best Lumos Spell. I'll do the rest."

"I don't understand what a flash of light is going to do against five Aurors."

Moody tried not to allow his annoyance to show as he answered, "Meerkat essence is used for night vision, Mr. Bones."

Bones smirked in understanding. "You want me to blind them."

Moody nodded and gripped the edge of the cloak. "Whatever you do, don't stop moving."

Moody threw off the cloak. The flash from Bones' Lumos Maxima Spell bathed the area in blinding light. The Aurors of Wolf Squadron covered their eyes, but to no avail.

"Call me a pogue, will you?"

Moody sprung to his feet and bore down on the nearest wizard. He leapt into the air and landed his fist heavily across Auror Sweets' jaw, knocking him out cold. He proceeded to line up the next three in short order. He pointed his wand at the witch, Tabitha, and struck her in the chest with the Disarming Spell. Unfortunately, the noise gave him away.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Moody nimbly sidestepped the curse, and with a practiced flourish, dispatched Radler with "Excelsiosempra!", catapulting him into the air. Radler's screams became more and more faint as he ascended into the heavens.

Moody, now engaged in mortal combat with Auror Whitney, kept a wary eye out for Bones, who, surprisingly, was holding his own in a duel against Auror Brignast. How long can he keep that up? Moody redoubled his focus to the immediate threat. Whitney was strong; the feedback from their clashing spells was making his arm shake. He broke out of the duel a split second before Whitney's Killing Curse punched through. He somersaulted to safety and came about, casting the Disarming Spell.

Whitney laughed heartily as he expertly deflected Moody's counterattack. "It's about time you learned, boy: out in the world, you duel for keeps or die!" He aimed his wand.

Like an unseen phantom Shacklebolt leapt onto Whitney shoulders from behind. Her thighs clamped tightly around his head like a vice. With her arms outstretched she twisted at the waist as far as she could. Then, with a sudden jerk, she twisted in the opposite direction, drawing her arms in and spinning Whitney off of his feet. They hit the ground to the cascading sound of snapping vertebrae with Whitney's face planted into the dirt; his toes pointed skyward.

The corpse's arm twitched. The wand in its hand stabbed into the ground as it cast its master's parting spell...just before his spine was severed. The ground began to crumble outward from the centre. The loose dirt spun faster as the hole expanded. Shacklebolt struggled to kick the heavy corpse that pinned her leg. She managed to free herself just before the sinkhole claimed Whitney's remains. Though dizzied she managed to get to her feet and keep pace ahead of the ever-expanding hole until she stumbled over a rock.

She's not going to make it. Moody took his wand in his teeth and ran to her aid. He dove and grabbed Shacklebolt by the wrist just as the ground beneath gave way.

Her breathing laboured, Shacklebolt regarded the whirlpool of earth far below. Moody's tenuous grip was the only thing that kept her from falling into the abyss. "Not to sound ungrateful, but next time you might want to try the Mobilicorpus Spell."

"Right," Moody grunted through his teeth. He started to pull her up but was reminded of the pain in his shoulder...the stitches had ripped open under Shacklebolt's weight. Lest he lose his grip on Shacklebolt, he tried to ignore the sounds of Edgar Bones fighting for his life. A curse from Brignast's lips made the skin along his spine tingle. He wouldn't dare! It was a curse he had read about in training manuals but never thought he would hear in person; it sounded different from the way he imagined reading it.

The air crackled.

"What was that sound?" The recognition in Shacklebolt's widened eyes, and the gasp that escaped her chest told Moody that the question was rhetorical. "Give me your wand..."

"What?"

A rush of billowing air brought with it nigh unbearable heat.

"Your wand, now!"

Weary of thinking, he defied the pain and pulled with all his strength. Shacklebolt pushed off and vaulted over his right shoulder. At her height, her lips found his; she took his wand in her teeth and dismounted. The roar of fire drowned Shacklebolt's voice. The water that streamed from the wand evaporated instantly.

Moody looked upon the thing and froze in awe by the beast of fire. In semisentience it looked around; having no master, everything it beheld was prey. The heated air that swirled about blew noisily among the trees, lending to the illusion that the beast was capable of human speech.

"I feed..."

Screams from high above marked Auror Radler's descent from the sky. The creature snatched the helpless Auror from the air with its fiery maw. It roared and shat scorched meat. It regarded the two remaining Aurors, this fiendish thing of fire, and moved toward them. Shacklebolt screamed against the onslaught, and the wand she held brought forth a glowing whip. It cracked the air and ensnared the creature. The nearby trees ignited in its struggle to free itself. Shacklebolt was forced to drop to her knees as she was dragged along.

Moody came to her aid. He held Shacklebolt fast, combining his energy with hers, and the whip tripled in girth, easily restraining the creature. However, the monster's continued struggles made it even harder to breathe in the superheated air.

Moody braced Shacklebolt's trembling arm. He could scarcely hear his own voice. "For Merlin's sake, let it go!"

"Left unchecked, it'll raze the countryside!" She presented her bracelet. "Take my Portkey... return with the others!"

"We're at a stalemate as it is! If I let go, it'll overtake you!"

"I... can contain it!"

"You're not privy to my wand's strengths and weaknesses!"

"I am giving you... a direct order, Auror!"

"I am refusing that order!"

A strange bird descended upon the wizards. It glowed with feathers like flame. Its distinctive caw pierced the din as it circled overhead. Then, with sudden ferocity, it headed straight for the fire monster and was devoured by it.

The fiend gulped it down hungrily and then stilled. Its core changed from orange to blue then to white. It seemed to writhe in agony as rays of white heat perforated it from within. Eventually, it dissolved into a vortex that sucked the surrounding brush fires into its centre. After a brilliant flash of light, darkness returned to the forest. Echoes of the creature's death throes faded into nothingness.

Moody's eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the darkness, so he remained motionless in the quiet of the aftermath.

"I think you can let me go now."

Moody snorted, realizing that he still held Shacklebolt firmly in his arms, yet he hesitated. "Sorry."

"Quite all right." When Moody released her, she pointed his wand at the pit behind them. "Accio wand!" After a few seconds, a wand rose magically from darkness below to its mistress' waiting hand. "They destroyed my wand, but Whitney's will make a fine replacement."

"Indeed," Moody said, proffering his hand.

Shacklebolt grinned and handed over the wand that she had borrowed. "Purpleheart, correct? What's the core comprised of?"

"Gryphon's feather."

"An interesting combination."

"Thank you." He sheathed it in his sleeve compartment. "Truth be told, I'm not usually comfortable with strangers handling my wand."

"That sounds boring."

A faint light drew their attention back to the creature's remains. With wands drawn, the two Aurors converged upon the pile of soot that marked the Fiendfyre's demise; something stirred underneath.

"Careful," Shacklebolt said. "It could be an Ashwinder."

"My thoughts exactly."

They hopped back with a start when the Patronus of a baby phoenix worked its way out of the dirt and ash. It chirped weakly then hopped off. They followed it until it reached its master who was slumped unconscious against a tree. It pecked a few times at the old wizard's feet and then disappeared.

Shacklebolt went immediately to Dumbledore's aid. "See to Bones."

Moody obeyed. He found Bones sheltered behind a waning Protection Charm. He didn't move when Moody shook him, yet he still held firmly onto Moody's Beech wand. "He has a concussion and a nasty burn," Moody reported. "What about Dumbledore?"

"Paralysis from some type of neurotoxin," Shacklebolt answered calmly. "He appears stable for now, but he requires medical attention." She took out her bracelet. "I don't like it, but we'll have to risk teleporting back to base camp."

"Then may I humbly suggest that I go first to secure the area this time, sir? I can pull you three from the other side when I deem it safe."

Shacklebolt, who was in no condition to protest, nodded and tossed Moody the bracelet.

BAM!

The return trip was abrupt, causing Moody to drop to his knees, but otherwise tolerable. The cool, fresh air invigorated him, and he breathed deeply, but unfortunately, he had no time secure the area. His blurry vision focused on two fast approaching Aurors.

Debating the wisdom of drawing his wand, he was relieved instead to hear the familiar voices of Jeff and Reuben.

"Moody, you made it." Jeff came over and steadied Moody onto his feet. "We feared the worst."

"I told you Moody was too stubborn to buy it," Reuben said, slapping them both on the back.

"Have you two blokes been here all this time? Awaiting my return like a couple of worried old women?"

"Get over yourself, Alastor," Reuben scoffed. "I'm of a mind to collect those ten galleons you owe me before you get yourself killed properly..."

"Eh, now, It was only eight galleons, pot-tosser!"

"You'll have to get in line, Rueben," Jeff said, his arms now folded crossly. "Alastor owes me a new bowler to replace the one that he puked all over."

"You ratted me out, Reuben!"

"I didn't say anything, brother; he was bound to figure it out sooner or later, him being a Tosser Worst Ass and all..."

"Auror First Class," Jeff corrected Reuben behind clenched teeth. "Say it right, or don't say it at all, you dim fuck."

Rueben couldn't help but notice Shacklebolt's bracelet that Moody held in his hands. "That's a bold choice, but I don't think that bracelet goes with your cufflinks, Alastor."

Moody's eyes widened. "Shit!" And he tapped the bracelet.

BAM!

Shacklebolt appeared followed shortly thereafter by Dumbledore and Bones, who were secured inside containment charms. The three junior Aurors stood at attention when she approached.

"AFC McKinley. Auror Ledley. You are to take the wounded to Hogwarts immediately for medical evaluation," she ordered.

Jeff eyed her warily. "Wouldn't St. Mungo's Hospital be better equipped, sir?"

Shacklebolt ignored his concerns, saying, "It is critical that you sequester them into Hogwart's hospital wing under protective guard. Keep the circle of knowledge small...especially among other Aurors. As far as you two are concerned, the peace delegation is still officially missing."

Jeff and Reuben acknowledged the order and Disapparated, taking Dumbledore and Bones with them.

"Can we trust them?" Shacklebolt asked, scanning the area for witnesses.

Moody nodded. "I'd stake my life on it, sir."

"Good... because it does." She donned her invisibility cloak.

Without question, Moody likewise cloaked himself and followed her. Because their cloaks were at the same "ethereal frequency", they were the only ones who could see each other as they ventured deeper into the encampment. It felt strange to Moody, having to skulk about among his fellow Aurors, but he understood Shacklebolt's precautions.

They sneaked past the guards stationed in front of the command tent. Inside the modest tent was a vast war room. The maestro stood at the far end with his back to them. Seemingly oblivious, his attention was focused on a large tapestry magically suspended with a mural of Britain sewn into the fabric. The overlay showed certain areas highlighted by threads that blinked in unison, marking the locations of known Giant strongholds.

Without taking his eyes off the mural, the maestro acknowledged the intruders' presence. "Report."

Shacklebolt was first to throw off her cloak. "The peace mission has failed, Maestro."

"I gathered that." He finally turned to face them with a serious regard. "What happened out there?"

"I'm not sure. It appears as if Gurg Ozymandias was assassinated by an exceptionally powerful wizard."

"I see. Where are Dumbledore and Bones?"

"The jump point was compromised..."

"Impossible! I charmed that Portkey myself!"

Shacklebolt raised an eyebrow at the maestro's rebuke, but persisted. "Nevertheless, we found ourselves transported into a trap on our return where Dumbledore and Bones were seriously injured. I have taken the liberty of diverting them to Hogwarts incognito under the assumption that St. Mungo's is not secure."

"What garnered that assessment?"

"On account of Wolf Squadron going rogue, I imagine." The words came out of Moody's mouth before he could think to stop them.

For the first time, the maestro regarded Moody's presence, like one would regard the sudden appearance of an unwelcome housefly. "I find that hard to accept."

"It's the truth." As proof Shacklebolt presented Auror Whitney's wand. She glared at Moody, and he wisely withdrew off to the side.

Maestro shook his head. "They must have been Imperiused."

"They were running a false flag operation, the goal of which was to frame Wizarding Britain for the assassination while, at the same time, taking out the peace delegation, making a war between giants and wizards inevitable." Shacklebolt paused to give the maestro a chance to ponder the reality of the situation. "Surely, you know that's a task far beyond the faculties of someone compromised by the Imperius Curse."

"Then they very well may have succeeded." The maestro waved his hand and the tapestry began to magically unravel. When the fibers rethreaded, they showcased an overlay of the demilitarized zone just a few miles away. "Our encampments bordering the Northern Forest have been overrun. I expect the Minister, herself, to make a formal declaration of war in the morning. She's already given me orders to implement Operation Green Purge."

Moody once again forgot his place. "I'm not familiar with that operation."

"It's Wizarding Britain's final solution to the Giant problem: extermination," Shacklebolt said.

"You can't be serious!" Moody gasped. "That's madness!"

"We may not have a choice. It's us or them." The look that the maestro shot his way made it evident that Moody's continued presence was only barely tolerated.

Shacklebolt quickly brought the conversation back to the point. "We may still be able to reason with them."

"I'm listening," the maestro replied, his interest piqued.

"The First Tribe is no myth. If I suss out who's behind this, then that might be enough to reestablish a dialogue."

"That's debatable. In any event, I'm not too keen on you going back into the field so soon, Shacklebolt."

"If we keep up the appearance that Wolf squadron succeeded, then I'll have the advantage. All I'm asking for is twenty-four hours."

The maestro snorted. "You only have twelve, girl. And you're not going it alone." He nodded in Moody's direction. "Use the boy."

"Moody's still too green."

"He's wand fodder."

"He's still in the room," Moody protested under his breath.

"That wasn't a suggestion, Auror Shacklebolt." The finality of the maestro's tone invited no further discussion on the matter.

Shacklebolt averted her eyes. "Of course, Maestro."

"Take my escape Floo." The elder wizard approached and placed his hands on her shoulders with a countenance that was uncharacteristically gentle. "Stay constantly vigilant." He directed them to a door hidden behind the mural. Once they were inside, he locked it behind them.

The lights came on to reveal a small sitting area with a fireplace. A bowl of Floo Powder rested on the mantel. Shacklebolt opened the cupboard on the far corner and sorted through the magical provisions therein.

Moody watched her with some interest before inquiring, "So, what's the plan?"

Shacklebolt handed him an unmarked jar of salve and brought him before the mantel. "I want you go home and get some rest while I call in some markers. I'll contact you when I need you."

She dipped her hand into the powder, but Moody interrupted her. "Am I to understand that you're sending me to my room?"

"You're no good to me knackered. I'll need you fresh later on."

"With all due respect, sir, I feel fine..."

Her glare cut him off. "If you continue with this annoying habit of second-guessing my orders, I'll see to it personally that you walk a beat down Diagon Alley for the remainder of your career. Do I make myself clear, Auror?" Having made her point, she disappeared into the flames.

Moody quietly grabbed a pinch of the silvery powder and cast into the fire.

"Home."