Alex smirked slightly, pleased that someone had been paying attention to his earlier strategy breakdown. "Exactly why I’m assigning a special task. The smugglers will keep the cages together for easy transport. We need a team to secure those cages first, and form a defensive line around them." He turned his gaze to Medea. "You’re in charge. I’ll assign one more Auror to assist. A four-person team should be enough to hold the goods."
Medea’s lips curled into a sharp grin, excitement flashing in her eyes. "Leave it to me."
Moody gave a grunt of approval. "Good call." He then turned to the rest of the group, his expression darkening. "Remember, these scum won’t hesitate to use underhanded tactics. They might taunt you, beg for mercy, or try to stall. Do not be fooled. The only good enemy is a neutralized enemy."
Alex nodded, fully agreeing. He then raised his wand, gesturing for the group to gather. "Stay close. I’m casting a protection spell. Some of my area spells have a wide range, if you’re not shielded, you’ll get caught in them too."
The Aurors watched as Alex cast a spell that enveloped them in a faint shimmer of energy. The crackle of electricity made a few of them flinch. Medea, however, narrowed her eyes slightly at the spell. Lightning magic. It wasn’t a common specialty among wizards, but she recalled someone else, a wizard skilled in lightning, who had appeared at the Scamanders’ home. Her gaze flickered toward Alex, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. ‘Could it be…?’ She pushed the thought aside. Now wasn’t the time for speculation.
With preparations complete, the Aurors moved into position, setting up shielding jammers from a distance before quickly advancing toward the coastline.
The smugglers were efficiently stacking their transported goods. A massive enchanted flying carpet had been laid out, and large iron cages were carefully arranged on top, secured together with magically reinforced ropes.
The entire operation moved with practiced ease. None of them seemed concerned about potential interference. Standing a short distance away, watching in silence, were two masked wizards, the Silver Wands overseeing the operation. One of them turned slightly toward his companion. "Thunderbird, why hasn’t there been any word from the ‘Sphinx’ infiltration team? Weren’t they supposed to report to you once they reached England?" His tone carried a hint of unease.
Thunderbird didn’t bother looking at him. Instead, he let out a low, condescending scoff. "Watch your tongue." His voice was sharp with authority. "You forget your place, Occamy. You’re just a apprentice Wand. That’s not a question you should be asking."
"Oh? Since when did our club start following the Ministry of Magic's obsession with hierarchy?" Occamy retorted, his tone deliberately light, though a flicker of tension lingered beneath his words. "As far as I recall, the only distinction in the club is between Long Spears and apprentice Wands, nothing about superiors and subordinates."
Thunderbird let out a low, sinister chuckle. "Heh... You can think of it that way if it helps you sleep at night. But you should remember another club rule, the strong make the rules." He leaned in closer, his masked face mere inches from Occamy’s. "So? Feel like testing that theory? Challenge me to a duel, and if you win, I’ll tell you everything you want to know."
Occamy flinched involuntarily, his body tensing. He knew better than to push Thunderbird, this man was a lunatic, completely unpredictable. More importantly, he was dangerous. There was no telling how far he would go just to prove a point. Swallowing hard, Occamy took a step back, subtly conceding. "I’m not here to play games," he said, his voice lacking the previous bravado. "I was sent by Lord Phoenix to get answers. He wants an explanation, your progress has been too slow. The higher-ups weren’t pleased when your last operation was dismantled by the British Ministry of Magic."
Thunderbird scoffed. "Hmph. If the higher-ups are so concerned, maybe they should stop relying on weaklings who crumble under pressure," he sneered. "All you people ever do is deflect blame onto someone else." His voice dripped with mockery. "You’re all so quick to push that woman out front, but when it comes to getting your hands dirty, suddenly you’re nowhere to be found."
Occamy bristled at the insult but wisely held his tongue.
"As for the Sphinx infiltration team?" Thunderbird continued, his tone suddenly shifting to something darker. "They’re gone. I passed information to them a week ago, and since then? Nothing. They’ve gone completely silent. Not even I can track them."
Occamy’s eyes widened. "Gone?"
"Vanished," Thunderbird confirmed. "And don’t bother suggesting incompetence. The Sphinx team are some of our best operatives. If they disappeared, it wasn’t by accident."
Occamy shook his head, struggling to process the information. "Four Silver Wands don’t just disappear," he argued. "They’re too well-trained. There’s no one alive who could wipe them out without leaving a trace." His voice faltered slightly. "Unless… you think Dumbldedore found them?"
Thunderbird turned his head sharply, fixing Occamy with a glare so piercing that even through the mask, the menace was palpable. "You think I wouldn’t have considered that?" he said coldly. "You insult me with your idiocy. Of course I checked. There's nothing. They’re just… gone."
Occamy stiffened under the weight of Thunderbird’s words, but inwardly, he was seething. Who knows what you’re thinking, you madman? Thunderbird’s erratic nature was notorious within the club. This wasn’t the first time one of his "operations" had ended with his own people mysteriously disappearing. Thunderbird exhaled, regaining his composure. "If I had to guess, the Scamander family is involved."
Occamy frowned. "Scamander?" He tilted his head slightly, trying to recall details. "Newt Scamander? That doesn’t make sense. According to our intelligence, he doesn’t have that kind of strength. Are you saying we miscalculated?"
Thunderbird let out a bitter chuckle. "We didn’t miscalculate, you did."
Occamy hesitated, then muttered, "If that’s the case, we may need to reconsider his threat level. There have always been rumors about him… something about how Lord Grindelwald was captured because of him."
"Enough!" Thunderbird’s voice suddenly rose in fury. The very mention of that name sent him into a rage. His entire body tensed, fists clenched at his sides. "Do not speak that name in my presence!"
Occamy froze, instantly regretting his words. The tension between them became palpable, heavy as lead. Thunderbird’s reaction confirmed what Occamy already knew, among the club’s elite, Grindelwald’s name was nothing short of taboo. The air between them remained charged with hostility, but the moment was interrupted by the sounds of movement behind them.
A man in a loose wizard robe wiped the sweat from his brow as he cautiously approached the two Silver Wands "My lord," he muttered, voice tinged with unease, "preparations are complete. Our last few transports didn’t go smoothly, the Ministry’s raids cost us heavily. Now, with the entire year’s inventory gathered here, we should move quickly before anything goes wrong."