Chapter Text
“Fang Two to Fang Leader. We have visual. Target is on second level with three others. AE levels positive on all spectra ranging from red to amber.”
Arthur’s jaw clenched as he heard the confirmation, pulse increasing in anticipation. He sat monitoring communications from their make-shift command center in a van a couple of blocks away from the building they were surveilling. This could finally be the break they’d been waiting for. The man they were tracking, Alvarr, was a known associate of Morgause Gorlois, and the closest thing they had to a lead on Morgana’s whereabouts. Six months had passed since the two women had vanished from the grounds of Arthur’s university. Six months of searching and praying, knowing that every moment that Morgana was missing made it all the more likely that she would never be found. Morgause had gone to ground, and she was not making herself easy to find.
Arthur quickly took note of the information that had been given, mind working on the best way to approach the situation. They would be dealing with four sorcerers. Four relatively powerful sorcerers if the Arcane Energy levels were accurate. It was rare enough to find sorcerers with enough magic to even register on their aurameters anymore, and those who did were usually in the weaker end of the spectrum; red, occasionally orange, but almost never anything brighter. Before meeting Merlin, Arthur hadn’t even known that sorcerers could register in the white-gold range reserved for magic in its purest form, and he was pretty sure that Merlin was the only living soul who had come by that much power through natural means.
In the wake of the continued depletion of magic in the world, seeing an AE reading of amber or brighter meant augmentation of some kind. For the general public, PendraCor enhancers were becoming more and more common, the public unaware of their sinister origins. But on the streets, in darker circles that would rather avoid supporting the likes of Uther Pendragon, another form of augmentation had begun cropping up. Tales of magic theft were becoming more and more common, and with four sorcerers with that much power, Arthur had a sinking suspicion that they were in for more than just a snatch and grab on this one.
Arthur shared a look with Leon and knew that his commanding officer had drawn the same conclusion. They were more likely than not looking at a ‘Charging Station’, the euphemism used to describe the places were magic was stolen from some in order to “charge up” others. This meant not only facing stronger sorcerers, but also the likelihood of civilians in peril. They’d come across places like this a couple of times before and learned some valuable lessons. Like the fact that stolen magic was more unstable, less predictable, and generally harder for its wielder to control. Between this and the potential victims underfoot, they would have to tread very carefully.
“Signs of shields or wards?” Leon asked Lance over the comm.
“Affirmative. Can’t get a read on how strong, but the building schematics show that there is a basement and subbasement level, and I can’t get anything from those areas. Only one of our sensors is picking up anything at all.”
Translation: Their standard issue equipment wasn’t cutting it so Lance had pulled out the “trick” equipment that Arthur had provided him; equipment that had appeared in Arthur’s room one morning with no indication of where it had come from, but had a warm familiar tingle that pulled at his heart and a spot just beyond his navel. That feeling had been answer enough and reason enough for Arthur to know the equipment could be trusted.
He’d received a few such deliveries over the past several months, all with the same familiar warmth. But despite knowing that Merlin was the source, he’d never heard from the man himself. He didn’t know how Merlin knew that his team would need the help; didn’t know why the other man made no attempts to contact him, but he was grateful. Especially now when it looked like Merlin’s gifts would make all the difference in whether or not they’d be able to attain their objective and get one step closer to getting Morgana back.
The van that was serving as their command center was silent as Leon considered their options. As much as he hated to admit it, Arthur was glad that it was not up to him to make the decision in this situation. It had been one thing to lead a team through drills and mock combat scenarios, even some of the simpler recon missions, but this was different. Lives were at stake. His team’s lives, the lives of the people who were likely held prisoner in that building. Morgana’s. Much as there was part of him that wanted to be the one to bring these bastards to justice, he lacked the proper experience to pull off an operation of this magnitude. He was man enough to admit that.
“Alright Arthur, break it down. What are our considerations?” Arthur started slightly at being addressed. Leon did this often, but he wasn’t expecting a command drill on a mission like this. He wasted a precious few seconds blinking in confusion.
“You have less than a minute, soldier. Considerations!” That snapped Arthur’s brain and mouth into gear.
“Four sorcerers on the second level. Heavy shielding on the lower levels. Target is in sight, but we don’t know what reinforcements might be in the lower levels. If we go in, we’ll be going in blind. The entire building is probably shielded so we’ll have to find a way through the shield first. We need this target alive and there are likely civilians. We don’t want to use lethal force. Stun charges, shock grenades. Inhibitor rounds if we have to.”
“Suggested course of action?”
Arthur paused at this. What would be the best way to get in and out with as little risk as possible? Surprise was their best advantage at this point. There was no indication that the people in the building were at all aware that their location had been compromised. But with shields and wards, anyone with magic in the building would be alerted as soon as the team got close enough. They had to be careful how they played this.
“We need to get past the shields. We have a couple of tricks for shield cracking, but the target will be alerted as soon as we use them. We’d have to move fast.”
“Strike points?”
“We split the team. Half goes high, half goes low. We hit both the upper and lower levels at the same time. Break the shields and break in. Speed and surprise will be our edge.”
“Good, Arthur. You’re getting better at calling these things. You matched my thoughts almost exactly with the exception of a few details.”
Rather than explaining further, Leon puled his facemask down hiding all features and activating the AE goggles built into the mask. That was Arthur’s cue to do the same. He followed Leon out of the van even as the older man began issuing orders to the team.
“Listen up Dragons, here’s the play. We’re going in fast and hard. Bravo and Charlie will take the high ground. Alpha and Delta go low. Delta, you’re out back, Fang One and I will come in through the front. Echo will split and take Over-watch. Make sure no one gets out of that building. Fang Three, I know you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve. You’re to hit the second level shield first, long distance, and get in the moment the shield is down. We’ll wait for your signal before attacking the shield on the first level. With any luck, anyone downstairs will be distracted enough from the first attack that they won’t see us coming. Confirm.”
Arthur listened as each member of the team checked in to confirm that they understood their role in the mission, counting down from Fang Nine. Arthur was last to add his confirmation after which Leon gave a firm nod.
“Alright then gentlemen. Take your positions. We go live in five.”
Even as the order was being given, Arthur was reaching into one of the many pockets in his strike gear to find the small satchel of Merlin’s gifts. There were not many; a few very special bullets, a personal shielding device, a few emergency teleportation beads, a pair of spelled handcuffs that could bind magic, and some very special coins designed as protection for sorcerers who might need to hide. And, of course the shield-cracker. He’d received four in total, little glass marbles that had a core of light at their center when closely observed. He handed three out to his men from Camelot University; the junior division of the Dragon Corps that he had been responsible for training. They were friends and brothers all, and though he did keep some of the special item for himself, he did his best to make sure the advantage was shared out to the entire unit. Well...almost the entire until.
Although there had only been rare occasions when the trick tech came into play, the other members of the Dragon Corps, those who had trained under Leon away from the university and had never been under Arthur’s command, were aware that Arthur had some slightly different tools at his disposal, but he’d never shared the source of said tools. They assumed that he had access to improved technomancy through his father, and Arthur never made any attempt to dissuade them of that assumption. Leon was the only one he had told, as his commanding officer and someone who was like a brother to him, and Leon had made the call to keep the origin of the enhanced devices under wraps for the time being.
Arthur palmed the little ball of light in preparation for their attack. Most of the team had already checked in that they were in position. There was only a bit of roof hopping to be made for most of the unit, the biggest shift probably being for the two men of Echo Team to get into Over-watch positions. Arthur was with Leon, moving out of the covered alley where their van was hidden, sticking to the shadows as they made their way to the building on foot. It was only a block away and took them seconds to get into position in an alley across the street. Final checks came in. The team was in position. Leon gave the order, (“Fang Three, if you would”) and everything went, immediately, sideways.
The moment the shield cracker made contact with the shield, Arthur knew. He and Leon were already rushing forwards, but even as they did he could tell that something was wrong. It was a feeling that he recognized, had experienced a few times. Magic building too fast with unpredictable and often disastrous results. He was never sure why it was that he could feel it the way he could. It hadn’t taken him long when growing up to understand that it wasn’t something that everyone could feel, especially those without magic, but he had learned to use it as a tool; was particularly grateful for it in times like this.
“Brace!” he shouted over the comm, grabbing Leon and pulling him to the ground just before the power broke. Arthur felt it as a steadily growing pressure in the air, tingling over his nerves. But with this kind of power, there were other effects on their surroundings. He could feel a low thrum moving through the ground, almost a sound, but not quite. The world went silent just before a brilliant flash of light as the shield shattered, taking every window in the building with it.
“Fucking shite!” someone shouted over the comm as the blast receded. Glass was raining down into the street and Arthur was grateful, not for the first time, for the thick material that protected every inch of his body. Leon was shouting over the comm for the team to Go! Go! Go! He heard the confirmation that Bravo and Charlie were in. He and Leon were steps away from the main entrance, the doors looking as though they were barely hanging on. Arthur pocketed the other shield cracker seeing as they wouldn’t need it after all, took hold of his assault rifle and prepared as best he could for what was to come.
He sprinted for the entrance, hot on Leon’s heels as the team fed terse updates over their channel. The sorcerers had scattered the moment they saw the team of masked men swing through the shattered windows. As Arthur and Leon neared the main door, Owaine’s cheery voice offered over the comm: “Allow me, lads” just before the lock on the door was shot clean through. That was all it took for the doors to finally give in and fall completely from their hinges. Impressed as he was, Arthur kept it to himself, instead focusing on getting in and making sure their target didn’t escape.
He entered the building behind Leon, eyes and gun scanning the area for threats. There were a couple of figures on the floor, dazed from the unleashing of power and making little effort to get back to their feet. From the looks of them, they were in no shape to be putting up much of a defense; bodies thin and clothes tattered. He wasn’t picking up any AE fields from them through his goggles, but he could see Marks on at least one other, the seals of magic that formed when a sorcerer came of age, indicating that there were other sorcerers amongst the people hiding in this building other than the four on the upper levels.
“Stay down and do not move,” Leon commanded, sweeping the room with his weapon. “The authorities will be here shortly. We have no desire to harm you.”
Even as the words were spoken, there was the sound of heavy footsteps from above, loud thumps and sounds of magic and weapons fire being exchanged. Arthur could hear what was happening over his comm. The sorcerers had scattered. The team had lost track of one of them, but their primary target was still in sight. Percival had taken a hit, two of the sorcerers were down. Alvarr was trying to make his escape.
All of this had happened in a matter of seconds. Delta Team was just making it into the front section of the building when Arthur felt a familiar tingle which was the only warning they got before they were attacked from above.
“Down!” Arthur shouted, just as a barrage of glass shards peppered the space where he and Leon had been standing. Tristan and Gareth fell back into a rear room and he knew that they were seeking out the attackers, same as he was, same as Leon. The woman was making her way across a landing that would lead to the stairs to the front exit. Arthur knew that even if she made it that far, Owain would see to it that she didn’t get any further, but Arthur had no intention of allowing her even that much. He rolled to a kneeling position, ignoring the sting of cuts from glass that had made it through his armor as he raised his rifle, loaded with shock-charge rounds; bullets augmented by magic to disintegrate once ignited and stun a target without inflicting a wound. They had the added bonus of temporarily scrambling a sorcerer’s magic.
He didn’t have a chance to even attempt a shot, however, because the moment he moved, the woman was on him, raising a hand with fingers curled into a claw. He felt the hold of her magic as it lifted him and flung him across the room. He managed to turn his body midair to prevent a head-first impact with a wall, but he knew that his shoulder would be smarting for a while after taking the brunt of his weight when he crashed. There was a small battle waged against the woman in the front of the building, magic buzzing through the air. She was clearly a formidable opponent, but the outcome was clear. Even she had to know that she was hopelessly outnumbered.
There was something wrong with this picture.
Arthur chose not to make his way into the fray, staying down for a moment as he tried to figure out what it was he was missing. The outcome of this mission was clearly falling in their favor. They would be shutting down another magic-theft facility and taking in a group of criminals. That was what they were here for wasn’t it? To take down a circle of...
...the slight brush of magic tingling over his skin was what gave it away. Arthur would have completely missed it if not for the advantage his sensitivity gave him and the fact that he had a good amount of experience with just the spell that was at play. He thought of it as the “Ignore Me” spell, because that is essentially what it was. Subtle, careful magic that relied largely on misdirection and only marginally on magic at all.
In this case, it was allowing their target to make his escape. It was at this point that Arthur realized that the comm had been silent for far too long.
“Does anyone have eyes on the target?” he snapped into his receiver. He was greeted by silence. Great. Something had taken down their comms. Radio silence would make this operation much easier.
He pulled himself to his feet as carefully and quietly as he could, thinking through the schematics of the building that he had memorized and trying to predict where Alvarr would go if he were attempting to make a quiet escape. The two main entrances were blocked, and there weren’t any other easy ways out, unless he planned to climb through jagged windows.
Arthur was a bit stumped until he realized something else. The sounds of fighting were moving closer and closer to the front of the building, leaving the back door largely ignored. He could not have asked for a more blatant declaration of intent. Making his way to the back of the building, he reached a small kitchen with a door leading to an alley behind the building where the dumpsters were kept. It was here that Arthur confronted Alvarr Quaid strolling towards the exit, calm as could be.
Arthur didn’t bother will calling out a warning to the man. He had no delusions that the sorcerer would surrender to him willingly, so he took the only logical course of action. He fired. Of course, as it turned out, Alvarr was the most powerful of the sorcerers present, made clear when he lifted a hand and deflected the stun-charge away with a shield that shone amber through the eyes of his AE goggles. Arthur dropped his rifle and pulled his handgun instead. It was loaded with inhibitor rounds; bullets for binding.
Static sounded in his ear for a moment before the radio chatter returned. Arthur could only assume that Alvarr had been the source of the disruption and had dropped the spell in favor of defending himself. He was a wise man. He would need all the help he could get if he thought Arthur would let him walk away from this.
“Step away from the door,” he ordered with a steady voice and steady hand.
“Or what?” Alvarr sneered. “You’ll shoot me? Go ahead. I’d rather die than become further fuel for Uther’s war against my kind.”
He didn’t bother repeating himself, choosing to fire instead. The command had been more for his team’s benefit anyway, informing the others that they were being misled. Alvarr returned the attack in kind, raising a shield and sending a blast of magic at him as the bullet deflected. Arthur dodged, diving to the left and rolling into a kneeled position, gun up and firing. He could hear the others responding, footfalls coming his way, but they were not coming fast enough. He wasn’t counting on the others however. He was counting on their Over-watch doing their job. All Arthur needed to do was keep Alvarr’s attention focused on what was happening inside the house to keep him from thinking about what was outside. He fired a couple more rounds at the man as he made his way for the door again, and just as Leon and Gwaine came rushing into the kitchen, a single shot was fired and Alvarr hit the ground with a startled cry. Arthur was there not a moment later with his binding cuffs, ensuring that there would be no further use of magic from the sorcerer.
“Target acquired,” Arthur announced over the comm. “Nice shot, Fang Nine.”
“Easy pickings, your highness.”
Arthur scowled at the nickname but kept his focus on the task at hand. Now that they had Alvarr, they needed to get him back to their transport and then get out of there. Fast.
“Dragon’s rendezvous at the back exit on level one. We’re getting out of--”
Before Leon could complete the command, there it was again, the feel of magic charging the air. Arthur didn’t have a chance to issue a warning before they were hit by a wall of power that shoved them all down and away. Arthur pulled his rifle up and fired a round in the direction the attack had come from, quick to pursue when he heard the sound of stumbling coming from the hall.
“Fang Three, cover!” Leon snapped, sending Gwaine after Arthur as they chased their assailant. It had taken maybe five minutes or less for the operation from start to finish, though with all that had happened, it felt like hours. In the aftermath of so much violence it was almost disturbing how quiet the building was now. The stumbling sounds that Arthur had been following seemed to be absorbed by the silence, leaving the lower level of the building dark and too quiet for his liking.
Arthur could hear his own breathing, and the oh-so-quiet shift of his feet as he took another step, but there was something else. He stepped forward, Gwaine at his back, moving along a wall towards what appeared to be a hallway. He pulled a small torch from his pocket and positioned it high while crouching low. He turned the corner and flipped the torch on in one swift movement, only to find an empty hallway and several doors to greet him. But wait... There was that sound again. Just for a brief moment. Like...shifting or breathing. He couldn’t quite place it.
There was something there, though. He could feel it as a slight tingle in the air. Someone was hiding. Someone with magic they had recently used.
“Fang One, report,” Leon’s voice spoke in his ear. It had been a good chunk of radio silence since he’d set off to follow the potential threat, but they were low on time. They needed to vanish very soon.
“Standby,” he returned, taking a couple of strides to the second door in the hallway. He felt Gwaine come up behind him as he reached the door, a reassuring presence at his back. He glanced over his shoulder, and wordlessly, the other man pulled out a torch of his own and raised his weapon at the door. Arthur lifted a hand with three fingers raise, and began counting down. When he got to one, he yanked the door open, aiming his light, along with Gwaine’s, into the opening.
There was a scream, a tangle of dirty limbs, then broken sobbing mixed with pleas.
“He didn’t mean it! Please! He didn’t know! He was just trying to protect me; to get us out! Just let us go! Please...”
The door had led to a supply closet of sorts, filled with buckets and towels and other cleaning tools. But huddled on the floor of the closet was a girl, pale with long dark hair, no older than sixteen. She was clutching the largely unresponsive body of a boy, similarly pale and dark-haired but several years younger, maybe twelve or thirteen. Children. Both thin and filthy, and the girl at least, was clearly terrified. Arthur was left reeling and feeling more than a little ill. Children. He’d fired on children.
Arthur turned to Gwaine. He could imagine the look on the other man’s face under the mask. Things just got a bit more complicated.
“We should go,” Gwaine said into the quiet of the building. It was the obvious course of action. They didn’t have much time before the local fuzz arrived, and every moment wasted was one moment closer to ruining their mission. Arthur didn’t know these children, had no obligation to do anything for them. But he had fired on children who, while not defenseless, were clearly terrified. He’d seen what was done to others with magic in places like these; the sick depravity of those so desperate to hold on to what was being lost that they turned to the most vulnerable of their kind to take what did not belong to them. Arthur would not abandon these children to that fate. He couldn’t.
Without another thought, he knelt beside the hysterical girl, puling off a glove and touching her hair in a calming manner.
“Fang One,” Gwaine warned.
“Join the others,” Arthur hissed at him. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“Like hell I will,” came the predictable response, leaving Arthur with even less time to do what he wanted to do.
“Hey,” he said in a soothing voice to the girl who had finally calmed some. “Hey, we’re not going to hurt you. We’re here to help.”
“You’re taking them away?”
Arthur assumed she was referring to the other sorcerers who were likely responsible for the theft of magic that was clearly taking place.
“We are. They can’t hurt you anymore. What’re your names?” Arthur gestured at the still-dazed boy.
“I’m Freya,” she said. “And he’s Mordred.”
Arthur nodded and reached into another pocket of his gear.
“We haven’t all day, Fang One.” Leon’s voice was insistent in his ear. “What’s the bloody hold up?!”
“Copy Fang Leader. We’ll rejoin you shortly.” He switched the receiver off again so that his voice didn’t carry to the entire unit.
“Freya, I’m going to give you something, okay? It’s a gift from a friend of mine, designed for people like you and Mordred; to keep you safe.”
He held out his hand and offered her two gold coins. She eyed him warily as she took them, examining each closely in the dim light from their torches.
“Feed a bit of your power into the charm and it will conceal your magic from anyone looking to take it from you.”
Freya looked doubtful, but she closed her hands around the coins before looking up at him. “Why are you helping us? Why would you care?”
Arthur was caught a bit flatfooted by the question. The situation was far more complicated than he even wanted to think about, let alone attempt to explain to a scared teen. “I have a very good friend who would be cross with me if I left you two without helping,” he said, smiling behind the mask at the thought of what Merlin would actually do to him if he’d turned his back on these children. ‘Cross’ was a bit of an understatement.
He also pulled a card from his pocket, handing it to her.
“If you need a safe place to stay, go to this address. You’ll find friends there.”
“We really have to go now,” Gwaine was pulling on his shoulder firmly and Arthur finally gave in. He could hear the sirens approaching. He was halted suddenly by an icy grip clamping onto his bare wrist and holding him in place. The boy’s magic was like orange mist through the goggles and it crawled over Arthur’s skin like a current of electricity, immediately calling Arthur’s attention to Mordred. Mordred, with eyes far older than his physical age, watching and seeing and knowing Arthur in ways that were too disturbing to think on properly.
“She said you would come,” he said; voice a whisper, a breath. “She said you would come, and that you would know. Follow the snake that circles the world. It will lead you to her. She will be waiting.”
The grip released and Arthur stumbled. If his nerves had been crawling before, they were full well sprinting now, climbing over each other in an attempt to escape the feeling of the boy’s magic as it lifted from him, fading like mist in the wind. Mordred lay still in Freya’s arms, as if the encounter had not happened at all. Arthur was beginning to think that he had imagined the whole thing. Then Mordred’s eyes opened and locked with his, a single word forcing its way into his thoughts.
Go.
Gwaine was pulling him and Arthur was running. The sorcerers had already been bound and loaded into the team’s vans, and the rest of the Dragons were loaded and waiting. As they hurried towards the exit, something caught Arthur’s eye in the debris left after their operation. A bit of stone that was giving off strange readings through his goggles. He wasn’t sure why he paused to grab it. It was likely just a bit of masonry laced with residual power from the explosion. Nothing unheard of. But something about it...
He pocketed the stone and joined the rest of his team in the command van. They pulled smoothly into the back alleys as sirens finally screeched to halt at the front of the building. There would be no trace of the Dragons left, aside from the chaos and missing sorcerers. Their target had been acquired, and Arthur was fairly certain that he’d received a message from Morgana through young Mordred. All things considered, he felt that their evening had gone rather well.
Wait for me, Morgana, he thought, working his thumb over the odd bit of stone. I’m coming. I’ll find you.