I, Hogwarts Week Two

Chapter 506: The Final Plan to Solve the Problem Once and For All

(The previous chapter has been modified)

The wizard's wandless levitation spell did not cause Alice any fear.

She was just surprised and nervous.

The reason is simple. If the opponent still has the power to kill her, he should not just deflect her gun, but her neck.

Since she was still alive and well, it only meant that this exhausted wizard could no longer pose a threat to her.

"do not move!"

Alice said coldly.

A living person is infinitely more valuable than a dead person.

Since she has this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, she will do her best to fight for it.

What's more, he has already secured victory.

She has already controlled the other person.

He pressed down the wizard's hands and head and blocked his mouth.

Next, all that was left was to snatch the wand he had just picked up from his only remaining left hand, and the wizard would have no chance to resist.

Alice breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, without her noticing, a gleam of light suddenly flashed in the wizard's eyes.

He was really afraid that the woman would just shoot him in the head.

But the other party seemed to want to capture him alive.

This made Walton McNeill overjoyed, as the chance to escape had finally come.

Just as Alice was about to touch the wand, there was a sudden crisp "bang" sound all around her, the sound was like a car backfiring.

Then, she witnessed the reality becoming unreal.

Alice didn't have time to react.

She felt like she was being forced into some irregular pipe. She struggled in panic and opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth.

It's like losing the medium of communication.

Then she was squeezed strongly from all directions, unable to breathe, as if her chest was tightly squeezed by several iron hoops. Her eyeballs were squeezed back into her head, and her eardrums were pressed deep into her skull.

Amid the intense squeezing and twisting, Alice's consciousness began to blur, and she felt like she was rushing around in a pipe.

Everything around her became distorted and chaotic, and her senses were gradually failing.

Suddenly all the pressure disappeared.

Alice just felt that she had finally squeezed out of the tube.

Then fell to the ground.

"啕——"

She fell to her knees, retching.

His face turned pale.

It feels like getting on a bus with low blood sugar, and the driver slams on the brakes every ten seconds, and you have to sit on the bus for an hour before you can get off.

That dizzy feeling is worse than death.

The head was spinning and Alice felt so sick to her stomach that she couldn't even stand up straight.

After taking a few deep breaths, the dizziness subsided a little.

At this time, Alice no longer cared whether she was cursed by the wizard. As a well-trained agent, no matter how uncomfortable she felt or how unsteady her steps were, she had to shoot and kill the enemy.

“Bang—bang—bang!”

Gunfire rang out.

She didn't know whether she hit the target or not.

"Raise your hands—" Alice slumped on the ground, trying to stay awake, looking at the world full of double images, "Put down your wand."

He shouted and shot.

"boom--"

The shot seemed to have hit the target.

Because she heard the sound of bullets hitting flesh.

But when she wanted to look carefully, she suddenly found that the wizard lying on the ground had disappeared.

Damn it! ! !

Alice fell to the ground helplessly.

He started breathing heavily.

After a long while, he finally struggled to sit up.

Looking around, she found herself in a forest.

She stood up with her hands on the ground and patted the dust off her body. The trees around her were tall and dense, and the sunlight shone through the gaps between the leaves onto the ground, creating mottled light and shadows.

It was unusually cold around here, about ten degrees colder than the weather in London.

All she could judge was that she was probably quite far away from London, at least several hundred kilometers away, because there were not many clouds in the sky here.

Alice was a little nervous.

This deserted place - could it be somewhere like Iceland or Greenland?

No - she shook her head and cleared the delusion from her mind. Both places were too close to the Arctic Circle, and it was impossible for such a large area of ​​forest to exist.

"Zizzi-"

The noise from the portable communication device hanging next to her ear brought Alice back to her senses.

Obviously, this is electromagnetic noise that occurs beyond the communication range.

However, as a professional overseas agent, this is not the only communication tool she has.

Alice quickly took out a black, old-fashioned cell phone with an antenna from her waist.

In 1996, the world's first 'flip' mobile phone, the Motorola 8900, was born.

Two years later, in 1999, the epoch-making first smartphone, Motorola Telephoto A6188 (capable of handwriting, Internet access, with a resistive touch screen, and the first phone to support Chinese handwriting recognition input) was officially launched on the market.

MI5 naturally also prepares a satellite phone that can connect to the communication satellite for each of its dispatched agents.

She entered the number.

About ten seconds later, a voice sounded.

--------

London.

Victoria Quarter, Scotland Yard, London Metropolitan Police Headquarters.

In the Joint Operations Command Center, the Chief of Police was standing in front of a huge screen, staring at the European satellite map on the screen, thinking about something.

"There are only three specific locations." Sir Ian Simpson, Permanent Secretary of the Home Office, stood beside him, staring at the screen with him.

The chief executive of Scotland Yard is appointed by the Queen on the recommendation of the Home Secretary.

Under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of the Interior.

Of course, even if that were the case, Sir Ian Simpson shouldn't be here.

As permanent secretary of the Ministry of the Interior, his position far exceeds that of a police commissioner.

According to the current British government system.

The Cabinet Secretary is at the same level as the Prime Minister and is the head of the civil service.

Next is the Prime Minister's Private Secretary, who is only half a level below the Cabinet Secretary.

In theory, the permanent secretaries of each ministry are at the same level as the ministers of each ministry.

Daily work also revolves around Downing Street.

Such 'grassroots' situations almost never occur.

The Permanent Secretary will only accompany the Home Secretary when he visits Metropolitan Police Headquarters.

And the reason why Sir Ian Simpson is here.

Naturally, this was suggested and assigned by Sir Humphrey, the Cabinet Secretary.

Otherwise, just send a technocrat from the Ministry of the Interior or a permanent undersecretary.

After all, the secretaries don’t understand military affairs, so it would be more reliable for the Ministry of National Defense to send a brigadier general than a permanent secretary.

Sir Humphrey made such arrangements solely to maintain his position as the head of the civil service.

He must have full control of the situation. It is possible for the Prime Minister not to be aware of the battle plan - of course, but - he cannot be unaware of it.

If he knows nothing, how does one decide what the Prime Minister should know?
Of course, the Joint Command Center has enough staff to do the planning and does not need Sir Ian Simpson to intervene. He only needs to provide eyes and ears.

"We can't attack three targets at the same time," the police chief said, "especially since two of them are out of the country."

"We cannot help but attack!" Sir Ian Simpson added: "If we let the wizards have their way, their revenge will be something we cannot afford."

"For the United Kingdom."

"Yes, the United Kingdom."

The police chief was silent for a while. By now, he had learned the whole plan from his superiors.

The most important part of this [October Storm] against wizards is the third step of the plan.

Operation decapitation.

The United Kingdom cannot sustain a fight with a group of lunatics who can do magic for long.

The Queen will not allow it, the government will not allow it, and the people will not allow it.

The economy won't allow it.

They must solve the disaster brought by the dark wizards once and for all.

"Sir!"

Just when the two leaders were in a dilemma.

Suddenly, an operator in the command office stood up and reported.

He briefly explained the whole story and then projected the coordinates onto the screen in the conference room.

"We have an agent reporting a location."

"The wizard took her to this place."

The police chief frowned and looked at the coordinates on the map.

The location is near Sumburgh Head on Mainland.

"Is it credible? From the Ministry of Magic." Sir Ian Simpson didn't quite believe the information the operator had just reported, because it sounded too unreasonable, like a story.

What if this was some wizard who hijacked the agents and released false intelligence?

And that wizard—Walton McNeill.

There was news from Downing Street that he was a member of the Ministry of Magic. He was considered their ally. Although the British Empire was generally more cautious about its allies than its enemies, the Ministry of Magic's help was still extremely important at this time. It was never a good deed to break up with them.

"The Ministry of Magic's intelligence is not 100% correct either." On the screen in front of the Chief of Police, there were several moving red dots near Cape Sumburgh on Mainland Island.

"We have known for a long time that there are a large number of terrorist supporters in the so-called Ministry of Magic, that is, what they call Death Eaters. Judging from the current situation." He pointed to the map, "There are still several signals in Samburgh Corner."

"The sniper rifle bullets used by MI5 agents are specially made, and each bullet carries a small locator.

This is our bait, the bait that helps us find the big fish.”

"But how can you be sure that Walton MacNeill is a Death Eater? Can he help us find the way?" said Sir Ian Simpson.

"I can't confirm it." The director replied simply, "But this is war! Nothing is 100% certain.

I can only trust our people.

If the information Alice provided was true, then Mr. Walton McNeill's behavior was too strange. He might be a mole, a very hidden mole.

Simple logic - if he was really an employee of the Ministry, why didn't he return to the Ministry if he had the chance to escape, but run off to the wilderness?
When a person is on the verge of death, he or she will subconsciously grab the straw that can give him or her a better chance of survival. This is human nature.

So I judge that this location -" he pointed to the screen, and said to a terminal where several signals converged on the corner of Samburg, "is very likely to be the enemy's base camp."

“Of course, this is just my speculation, but intelligence is fleeting. If we don’t launch an attack now, the possibility that the big fish will move or come to London in person will increase.

We must act decisively.”

Sir Ian Simpson fell silent.

Logically speaking, there is nothing wrong with what the director said.

But - after all, we are going to use that kind of weapon on our own land.

After several struggles, Sir Ian Simpson suddenly realized that he was not the one who had the power to make the decision.

Immediately, he said in a deep voice: "Then - ask the Prime Minister for instructions!"

The order was given.

The state machinery started operating at high speed in an instant.

In less than two minutes, a briefing appeared on the Prime Minister's desk in the underground bunker of Downing Street.

It was a brief message, and Prime Minister Haque knew it all at a glance.

He understood how much damage such an order would cause to Britain, and that the titles of hero and villain would be woven into a wreath of thorns and placed on his head at the same time as the sun rose.

Compared to Churchill, the greatest Prime Minister in British history, Mr. Hake felt that the situation he was facing now would not be much easier than that of Churchill.

Subconsciously, he looked at the old man sitting in front of him.

After looking into those deep blue eyes for a moment, Mr. Hake suddenly felt that all his secrets were known to the other party.

"Sumburgh Corner is a desolate place in the magical world. There is no Ministry of Magic organization there."

Dumbledore, with a gray beard and wearing an exquisite purple velvet suit, said calmly.

"As to Mr. Walton McNeill——"

He looked at the boy next to him.

"A Death Eater, one of Voldemort's secret agents." Owen answered directly. "An attack is possible."

Of course, what he didn't say was that Walton McNeill was now considered a wavering Death Eater. Faced with Voldemort's various inhuman behaviors, he was also panicked, but he didn't dare to betray him openly. He was one of the people Bella was fighting for.

"In that case." Mr. Harker collected his thoughts and tapped the table with his right hand.

He was still hesitating.

This was a huge matter. He couldn't help but think about it.

"Sir," Owen suddenly said, his emerald eyes flashing with a cunning light, "If you have made a plan, you'd better make a decision as soon as possible. The wizards will evacuate much faster than you think. Every second of hesitation may cause irreparable losses."

Ten minutes ago, after Tonks' request was passed back to Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall urgently contacted Headmaster Dumbledore.

He was attending a meeting at the Swedish Federation headquarters and rushed back immediately after hearing the news.

As for why he is here
On the one hand, Old Deng insisted on taking him with him.

On the other hand, there was Miss Granger - she was afraid that something might happen to her parents, so she took Sherlock and hurriedly skipped classes and left Hogwarts.

It was Harry who told him the news.

Tsk tsk - Owen sighed secretly. As expected, the sorting system implemented by Hogwarts is simply the stupidest system. It distinguishes young wizards by their personalities, which will only make the radical ones more radical and the indifferent ones even more indifferent.

Look at Granger - he was a well-behaved student three years ago! In just a few years, he has become reckless in the big dye vat of Gryffindor.

It must have been infected by Harry and the others!

Owen was so sure that he cleared himself of all blame.

Mr. Hake's brows twitched slightly. As the Prime Minister of a country, it was impossible for him not to hear the encouragement in the child's mouth.

Come to think of it - if they finally decide to take action, then objectively speaking they are helping the Ministry of Magic strike down its opponents, which wizards will naturally welcome.

Besides, if any accidents occur, they will bear all the responsibilities and the Ministry of Magic does not have to bear any risks.

The Prime Minister naturally understood the reason, but they were already at war with the dark wizards, and if they missed the opportunity this time, they might never meet again.

Gradually, he began to realize that a permanent solution was best compared to future troubles.

"Okay..." Mr. Harker took a deep breath and made a decision. "Then please wait a moment."

After that, Mr. Bernard stood up and asked Owen and Dumbledore to leave the office.

The moment the doors closed, the Prime Minister answered the phone.

It was a communication line directly connected to the Norwood Naval Base. According to the standard process, he said a communication key, and the base communicator also replied with a string of digital keys. After confirming the identity, the Prime Minister's order was issued at the same time.

The base then sent an order to a Trident submarine lurking in the North Sea.

The atmosphere inside the boat was tense and solemn. Every crew member was concentrating, staring closely at every indicator light on the console.

Following the commander's order, the submarine surfaced and jumped out of the water a few minutes later. Then, the cover on top of the silo slowly opened, and a UGM-133A ballistic missile suddenly burst out with tremendous power, and the deafening roar was louder than thunder.

A raging flame spurted out from the tail of the missile, and its powerful force sent this steel behemoth weighing dozens of tons high into the sky.

A long trail of thick fog was left behind the flames, forming a spectacular trail that reached the sky.

On the other side, outside the Prime Minister's office, Dumbledore looked a little bleak, and behind his half-moon glasses there was a hint of weariness towards this unpredictable world.

The world has changed dramatically since the last year.

The Statute of Secrecy is a dead letter in name only, and the Federation has been busy with this for more than a month.

They haven't come to any conclusion yet.

Muggles were drawn into the magical world, making the already complicated situation even more confusing.

He was exhausted by it.

Especially after what's happening now.

"Owen--" the old principal suddenly spoke.

"What's wrong, professor?"

"Am I old?"

"." Owen turned his head and looked carefully at the wizard beside him, "Why? You still want to live forever!"

"If you want to retire, let Professor McGonagall be the headmaster after Voldemort falls. As for the Federation, I think this organization may need to be reorganized in the future, and you can pass it on to a younger successor."

"Successor?" the principal murmured, then sighed calmly.

Owen could probably guess why the old headmaster was so tired.

If a person is doing a job he likes, then even if the work intensity is very high, he will not feel so physically and mentally tired. Only when he is doing a job he hates, that negative emotion will be amplified.

(End of this chapter)