As soon as Kingsley was both back on the ground and able to stand again, he shot a Patronus to Lupin in the Room, asking about their status. Having done that, he allowed two airmen to lead him back to the command center. The PM asked him to return to COBR at once. Kingsley Apparated to an empty field in the Midlands before Apparating there. He had no desire to Splinch himself.
He appeared in COBR with a loud crack. Most of the room jumped, startled, and the Science Advisor yelped. One of the generals had to go to the door and assure the guards outside that there was not an assassin in there shooting people.
–Ah, I am glad to see you are here,†the PM said to Kingsley, smiling politely. –Sit down…I have been discussing a ground assault on the…castle with these gentlemen from the Army. Lossiemouth has informed us that…all of their navigation instruments malfunctioned on the way to…the castle.â€
–It’s very interesting,†the Science Adviser put in. –It’s almost as though the Uncertainty Principle is somehow applied at a macro scale, preventing us from determining the position to more than a certain degree of accuracy. Of course, that doesn’t explain the mechanism, since the way the Principle operates…†He noticed the rest of the room looking at him and stopped talking.
–The point is that…the pilots may be able to reach the target again…intuitively, but it would be wiser for you to guide them back again.†The PM gestured to a man in a fancy uniform.
–Our overall plan at the moment is as follows,†he stated, putting Kingsley in mind of a large dog barking. –It is currently 0144 hours. It will take several hours to bring SAS units there, so we may as well wait until daylight. Night vision in darkness would afford a tactical advantage, but given the—combat environment, I don’t trust it.†He stopped for a moment, apparently having trouble processing all of tonight’s revelations. The PM cleared his throat, and the general continued. –The immediate question is whether our objective is merely the defense of the castle, or whether we are attempting to contain the enemy and kill or capture all of them. We have Army units closer to the area, and may be able to establish a perimeter.â€
–We wanted your views on this, Mr. Shacklebolt.â€
–If you can trap Voldemort and the Death Eaters, please do it.â€
–Very well,†the general continued. –I need some idea of the surrounding terrain. Our pilots reported extensive grounds, several structures outside the castle, and a large area of dense vegetation.â€
–Oh,†Kingsley said. This would not be easy to explain. –You need not worry about any of that. You…no one can get out any way but through the main gate area. There is a sort of…loop.†Everyone looked confused, so he elaborated. –Anyone walking away from the castle, in a straight line, in any direction except towards the gates would eventually end up back where he started.â€
–The material question is,†the general growled, after a few moments of trying to process that, –is it sufficient to secure the gate area to prevent anyone from leaving the castle grounds?â€
–Yes.â€
–Very well. Issue the orders,†he said to someone with somewhat less metal on his uniform.
–Yes, sir.†The less reflective person picked up a telephone, pushed several buttons, and began speaking into it. The general went on.
–The sun will rise at approximately 0530 hours. The SAS currently on route to the combat zone are the A Squadron of the 22 SAS Regiment—the finest soldiers we have. There are 67 men in this squadron, divided into four troops, each with 17 men, except Mountain Troop. We were discussing the details when you arrived. I believe that the best plan is for the Air Troop to HALO jump into the area near the sports arena, while the other three troops enter through the main gate. Air Troop will then clear that area and advance towards the castle. The Boat Troop will sweep clockwise, clearing the area around the lake of any hostiles. Mobility Troop will sweep counterclockwise, clearing the rest of the grounds near the castle. And Mountain Troop will advance toward the castle and attempt to gather information. Once the grounds are secure, all four troops will converge on the castle, and attempt to enter. B Squadron will provide reinforcements where needed.â€
–What about Hogsmeade?†Kingsley asked. His Auror’s mind was mostly able to follow that.
–What is that?â€
Kingsley’s explanation was interrupted by the arrival of a silver, glowing wolf through the air vent.
–Be quiet,†Kingsley said firmly to the rest of the room as it began to speak.
–Voldemort has attempted to break through the door repeatedly, but it has resisted him, more recently in a rather unusual fashion. The Marauder’s Map shows that all of the Death Eaters who were outside, are now in here with the rest of them, or no longer a problem. We saw the…attack, it appears to have been…very effective. Harry thinks Voldemort is refusing to leave because of him. We are in no immediate danger. Please try not to damage the castle if you can avoid it, but getting these people out of here should be the priority.â€
–That was a Patronus message from Remus Lupin, a member of the Order who is currently inside Hogwarts,†Kingsley explained to the room full of unhinged jaws. The PM nodded. Slowly.
What followed was a considerably complicated and tedious discussion. Finally, they concluded that the best plan was to approach from both directions. While A Squadron assaulted the castle as discussed earlier, B Squadron’s Air Troop would parachute into one end of Hogsmeade, while the other three troops advanced from the other. They would converge on the Hog’s Head, clear it, contact the wizard reinforcements in Hogsmeade, and go through the tunnel along with the wizards. Anyone wishing to evacuate could then do so. The two squadrons would then coordinate to trap the remaining Death Eaters between them and engage simultaneously. They had wanted air support, but Kingsley talked them out of it; in daylight, compared to a man on a broomstick firing Reductor Curses, airplanes and attack helicopters were very large targets. A man with a round face and rather large nose, who was apparently the Defence Secretary, agreed to all of this.
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While all this was going on, trouble was imminent in Hogwarts. A group of four students was about to be cornered by Death Eaters on the fourth floor. Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, and Lupin had gathered around the Map, watching the situation. The students were three Hufflepuffs, plus Seamus Finnegan. Harry watched as their names sped down a corridor, Death Eaters in hot pursuit.
–Are there any secret passages in that area?†Hermione demanded.
–No,†either Fred or George answered. –There’s the Hagar the Hungry tapestry, but those Death Eaters are between them and it.â€
Trapped, the four sort of churned around for a moment, then hurried into a classroom.
–Professor Lupin, could you lift the anti-Apparition spells?†Hermione asked desperately. The four students seemed to be trying to seal the door behind them, piling the desks against it (that was the obvious interpretation of them taking repeated trips quickly away from the door and more slowly back, going further each time) and (hopefully) reinforcing the whole business with magic.
–Not even Dumbledore could have done that,†Lupin told her. –He could suspend them for a little while in limited areas, but he had to be there to do it. The spells are part of the castle. I could never do it.†His tone became angry. –Fred, George, why didn’t you see this and warn them?â€
–We weren’t sure they had been seen, and didn’t want to give them away if they hadn’t been,†George said, turning his head enough to be identified. –By the time we knew they’d been seen, it was too late.â€
The Death Eaters had formed a tight group outside the classroom door. They could probably have broken in already, but with their victims trapped, they could take their time. Also, probably no one wanted to be the first one in.
–Lupin,†Hermione breathed suddenly, –could you remove the anti-Apparition spells within a very small volume? Say, a half-meter cube?â€
–That small an area…it is just possible, if I had cooperation, but what good—–
Hermione looked slightly ill to be considering this, but pressed on. –If they attempt to Apparate, with Apparition only possible in the space occupied by part of their bodies…they will Splinch. There is a high probability that the Splinched parts will remain connected…internally. They could all do this from the wall of that classroom into the next one.†She now looked more than slightly ill. –Someone…would have to stay behind…to hide the—body parts. There are any number of ways to do that. Then…when this is all over, we come and, well, put them back together.â€
–This sounds a bit dangerous,†Harry put in. –Are the Death Eaters going to kill them, or would they be willing to take them alive? I mean, should we risk something like that?â€
–I wish we could hear what they were saying!†Fred exclaimed.
–Yes, well, we never found a way to do that—what?†Lupin demanded, looking at Fred and George, who were looking at him with their mouths open.
–Mooney…†Fred said, in exactly the way you’d expect for a man who had just realized he’d been missing the obvious for years.
–Harry never—well, no time for that now,†Lupin said, looking at Harry oddly.
–Why don’t they just blast a hole into the next classroom?†Harry asked (he was not sure what Lupin had wanted him to tell Fred and George, and there’d never been a good time to ask).
–The walls of Hogwarts are magically reinforced,†Hermione answered. –Really powerful wizards can do limited damage, but they couldn’t. It’s in Hog—–
–Not now!â€
–I don’t think it will work, Hermione,†Lupin said. –It’ll take too long, and I’d be very surprised if they could keep their nerve. Not everyone can be in Gryffindor. Keep their nerve…that gives me an idea.â€
He stood fluidly, then began speaking, preparing a Patronus message. He was speaking unusually loudly, making him quite audible to the people around him, causing them to smile broadly as they got the idea.
A few moments later, a silver wolf charged down a corridor, ignoring curses shot at it by the black-robed and masked men in front of a classroom door. It passed through said door, and began to speak very loudly in Remus Lupin’s voice.
–We have the reinforcements from Hogsmeade,†the voice said. –There are thirty or forty of them. They are coming through the secret passage down the corridor. If the Death Eaters try to break in, try to kill the first one in, if you can do nothing else. This might well come down to attrition. Otherwise, stay put until they come; they will be here momentarily.â€
A few moments after that, the Marauder’s Map showed a group of Death Eaters moving rapidly away from the classroom. Lupin began to send another Patronus, speaking much more quietly this time, setting straight the group in the classroom and giving them directions to a nearby and unguarded secret passage out of the building.
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Captain Macduff, 22 SAS Regiment, A Squadron, Air Troop commander, frowned at his crudely sketched map. Because of the need for haste, they were trying to get people briefed via the radios in the helicopters. Anyone who had played that game in which one person tried to describe a picture to another could tell you why this was a bad idea. He was also concerned about the magic. It wasn’t about fear, of course—he just wasn’t completely certain his superiors hadn’t gone mad.
As he stopped focusing on the –mapâ€, the constant roar of the AW159 Wildcat’s rotors seemed to return to full volume. He, most of Air Troop, and a few guys from the Mountain Troop had been put into this helicopter (a civilian might describe them as crammed in, but Captain Macduff hardly noticed). The rest of Air Troop, according to Major Norwood, were on another helicopter just behind them. This was another problem, since they would have to confirm consistent understanding of given information once they arrived. The orders back at base had been to load as fast as possible regardless of, essentially, anything else, so things had been rather disorderly. Based on the travel time to even the very top of Scotland, and their orders not to go in until 0535, this seemed to be a clear case of –hurry up and waitâ€. Maybe they wanted them there to prevent a breakout attempt.
The men, as he’d expected, were quiet, speaking only to ask necessary clarifying questions. Talkative, jovial types didn’t usually last long in the SAS selections. Nonetheless, a few of them were clearly worried. Lance Corporal Smith was assembling and disassembling his standard L85A2 (in, to Captain Macduff’s annoyance, a whole 50 seconds each way—what were they teaching this lot these days?). Corporal Jones seemed to be praying, despite the fact that Macduff had seen Richard Dawkins’ books in his personal possessions. Macduff needed to make sure his men were emotionally combat-ready, but given the unusual situation, was unsure what to say. Then he knew—like the best combat plans, simple.
–Who dares wins,†he declared firmly.
–Who dares wins,†his men echoed, nodding. Smith finished fitting his assault rifle together, firmly, and refrained from stripping it again. Jones muttered a quick amen.
Macduff returned to giving the radio operator questions to relay. He realized he was irritating him, and probably whoever was answering these questions, but he wasn’t going to let his men get killed because of some stupid misunderstanding caused by a question which he’d thought was too thick to ask.
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While helicopters roared north, armored personnel carriers were racing in line through the streetlight-lit, largely empty streets of London. Drivers looked at them, confused and curious. Inside, the D and G Squadrons of the 22 SAS Regiment sat.
Each soldier was equipped with the standard L85A2 assault rifle, to half of which were attached L123A2 underslung grenade launchers. Ordinarily, sniper rifles and light machine guns would have been included, but this fighting would be in a confined space against foes with Shield Charms, and on Kingsley’s advice, they were not. There had been some on-principle resistance to this from the generals, but the PM had overruled them. More power would be needed to break through the Shields, but all of the modern anti-armor weapons (the AT4 and such) were disposable—strictly one-use-only. That was no good for a situation like this. Fortunately, most of the old Carl Gustaf bazookas were still sitting in storage. They and their ammunition had been thrown into trucks, which had picked up police escorts and were speeding toward the Ministry of Magic. Every soldier had smoke grenades (L84 and L132A1) and –conventional†high explosive grenades (nonstandard, a special and expensive model reserved for SAS). The vision systems were limited to the EMP-resistant stuff, but every man had an EMP-resistant radio. The people with Bowman were currently developing such radios for the rest of the British Army, but they wouldn’t be ready for years, so these radios were specially made and therefore expensive. Being SAS, they wore special body armor and helmets, the very existence of which was a secret.
The personnel carriers reached Whitehall. They screeched to a halt in front of the cordon of policemen, which quickly let them pass. The SAS exited the trucks with incredible speed and took their formations—only to learn that the Carl Gustafs would not be there for another half hour and they would have to wait. Word of this was relayed to COBR, which was not happy, but there was nothing to be done about it. Per instructions from what Kingsley continued to think of as the shiny general, one of the troops from G Squadron (chosen because they were the most recently trained as the Special Projects Team from those there) took up positions in the toilet leading to the Ministry. Anyone who came out would be tackled and detained, to prevent them from going back down and warning everyone—not shot, unless there was no other choice. If nothing else, the noise from that might be audible down there.
Two squadrons of SAS is a fair number of men. Telling you, the reader, about each and every one of them would be impossible. So I’ll tell you about Lance Corporal Wood, D Squadron, Air Troop, who was 25 years old, from Manchester, had no girlfriend at the moment (not being able to tell her anything about your work tended to cause problems, and he wasn’t the shag-and-skip type), and firmly believed that the United Kingdom was the finest country in the world and failing to do everything he possibly could for it would be unthinkable. Lance Corporal Wood was uneasy. He was trained to fight terrorists, enemy soldiers: men with guns, who would die if you shot them. If things went badly, the mission might fail, and that could be very bad for Britain. If he made a mistake, he could cause that to happen. Concern that he, Lance Corporal Wood, might die doing this, never occurred to him. But he quickly suppressed his doubts, who dares wins, and mentally reviewed the plan for the umpteenth time. Each of them had specific assignments as they secured the Atrium. With the Atrium secured, other British Army units would guard the fireplaces (where hostiles could apparently appear, a prospect which made him uneasy again) while the SAS advanced down the lift shafts and cleared the building. They had all been given disposable restraints and instructions about searching people for wands or magical artifacts. (Kingsley had been concerned about a massacre if he mentioned the possibility of wandless magic, which most adults forgot how to do anyway, so he did not disclose this particular information.)
Time passed. No one came out of the Ministry of Magic. Then, at 2:38 AM, Lance Corporal Wood heard loud engines coming closer. He looked up, scanning the situation rapidly, and saw large Army trucks with tarps draped over the backs come around the corner from the direction of Trafalgar Square. His main reaction was relief—he wanted to get this thing over with, one way or the other. He wished briefly he could speak with his mum, but concluded that they’d done all that already, when he made SAS.
The trucks pulled up to the police cordon, were checked, and moved towards them. Orders were shouted and Wood followed them, hurrying into line to receive his anti-tank rifle and a designated number of rounds (one could only carry so many, and there weren’t a great number left). This was it.
The Last Resort by William Brennan
Chapter Notes: Due to my total lack of a military background, I have no doubt inadvertently written things in this story, and will continue to do so, which would cause loud guffaws from actual SAS members. For that, to them and to my readers, I apologize.