AN: We don't own any of the character portrayed in the story below. All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers Productions. All characters of Game of Thrones/A song of Ice and Fire, are the property of G. R.R. Martin. Any likenesses are purely coincidental. The story AU and continues the story of Lord Harrison James Potter-Evans.

*means a mental statement, not said out loud.

Draconarius

BROMBROS

Chapter 1

The buildings in the village all looked the same. Some had a small second story or small enclosed yard, but they were all made from the same almost yellow bricks. The people were just as much of a treat. In a country where the majority of the male population carried weapons the difference between carrying a weapon and brandishing one was balanced on a razor's edge. It made for tense situations.

The women weren't any more comforting. It's hard to tell if someone carrying a suicide vest when everything but the eyes is covered.

For the most part, the people didn't mind westerners; they just didn't like them moving in. Everyone's hospitality runs out after a while, even Muslims with their two-thousand-year-old code of honor.

In this part of Afghanistan, it was called Pashunwati for the Pashtun people living in the Afghan Highlands.

Muslims could at times be a very secular people. Regardless of sect, if you were offered aid whichever tribe you were in the company of would undertake the responsibility of safeguarding you against your enemies and protect you at all cost.

Several years ago this particular village had done just that when they defended a severely wounded U.S. Navy Seal, several villagers had lost their lives in the process. It was an incident that was known in the Operator Community as the Lone Survivor Incident. The incident allowed a friendship to develop between the Seal and the father and son that initially found him.

It was that friendship that led him here now. Farmers had found over a dozen chests bearing a strange symbol.

A strange skull over crossed swords. His family crest showing up in this part of the world was odd. But only so much, Romanesque ruins had been found in Mongolia and China.

Word of the find had filtered down to him through the usual backroom channels and to him directly from James Charleston, the man had become the National Security Advisor to the Prime Minister.

Before he'd come to Afghanistan he'd been going over a pair of financial reports, one from Gringotts the other from the Bank of London. When he'd gotten off of the phone he'd tracked down the four of the women that had become such an important part of his life.

Tonks was asleep in her room. Being eight months pregnant with her first child, his first son and second child, was sapping her strength. He'd let her go back to sleep after giving the emotional woman a promise to be safe.

He'd found Luna walking amongst her fruit trees. She was in the process of planting plum trees. She was already growing an assortment of apples, cherries, oranges, and peaches. Once again she displayed the clarity that made her unique. She told him to wear Arthur's Armor under his fatigues and to behave himself.

He loved the woman dearly, but she would confuse him till he was dead and buried.

Hermione was in the library studying for her third mastery, Charms, this time, to join her collection of Transfiguration and Arithmancy. Baby Rose was asleep in her bassinet, Max laying nearby. She agreed with Luna and then reminded him of the apparation area in Bagrahm Airbase, which she wasn't supposed to know about, he needed to learn to stop leaving reports on his desk. He nodded and kissed her and his daughter on the temple before walking from the room.

Emma was in the kitchen with Winky working on her cooking skills. She had managed to persuade the House-elf to teach her how to cook, to improve on what she had learned as a girl. She reminded him that Tonks could give birth even if it was early. He'd promised to be back as quickly as he could.

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From the manor house he apparated to the London flat and from there he'd gone to the secure room at Number 10, James had sent a car to meet him.

The younger Charleston was waiting for him in his office with a signed requisition form for the Armory at RM Hamworthy. Memos of the chests existence had crossed too many desks for him to do this covertly. Charleston could make up bogus travel papers, but weapons would have to be on the up and up. Which meant he couldn't bring his weapons from the Armory at Potter Manor.

The Color-Sargent in charge of the Armory barely raised an eyebrow at the Classified requisition form. The man had been around for awhile, he knew better than to ask. He also recognized the, oddly, young Captain. He only wondered why he wasn't accompanied by the rest of his boat team.

Harry pulled a 9mm pistol, a rifle with an underslung grenade launcher, and enough grenades and ammo for a protracted firefight. He was already wearing cammies so all he needed besides weapons was a plate carrier and a patrol bag. After making sure that the trauma plates weren't damaged he pulled on the vest and started filling the various pouches with magazines, as they were loaded. Working the actions of the weapons a final time, listening for any odd noises, he finished his mission prep. He slid mags into the mag-wells and then slid an extra bullet into the open chamber before putting them on safe. He filled the camel pouch that was built into his patrol bag with water and then filled a pair of canteens, stuffing them in the side pouches. Before closing the bag he slid a couple of days worth of rations into it as well as a medkit.

From the armory Harry went to his office and his team's billet area, he kept clean socks in his footlocker, a few pairs of which went into the bag. He knew no one would be there, they'd been given six weeks leave before a six-month fleet assignment.

From there he apparated to the secure staging area at Bagrahm Air Base. After that, he had to get creative. He'd never been to this particular village so he couldn't apparate directly there. He could, however, apparate to an area a few miles away, he'd just have to walk the rest of the way. Charleston had given him map coordinates so it wouldn't be too bad, wouldn't be nice, though, the Hindu-Kush wasn't a place to take a nature hike.

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A rough two hours later he was approaching the village. It had the unfortunate pleasure of being in an area that saw heavy traffic of Al-Queda loyalist and foreign malcontents.

He could see where EOD techs had gone over and cleared land for the farmers to plant. He could see the chest and where the dirt had been cleared away to expose several of them.

There were a dozen armed soldiers hovering around the chest. They had set up a very obvious perimeter. As he approached he could see that they were outfitted the same. Same combat vest, same Remington ACR rifle; same everything. If not for their different body types he'd think that they were clones.

He flipped the safety off of his FN SCAR-L and kept walking towards his objective. A few feet from the perimeter he was approached by one of the unknowns. The guy had probably drawn the short straw into becoming the group's mouth.

"You can't be here sir! This is a restricted area!"

From the accent, he would guess that the guy was from the Southern U.S. "You're right about the restricted part, but you're wrong about me being here. Why don't you be a good lad and go and get your boss."

He smiled as the man blinked and walked off towards the three men standing nearest to the chest. After a couple of minutes, one of the three men approached. The man's eyes reminded him of the long dead Lucius Malfoy, calculating, but without the hatred.

"And who are you to be ordering my men around? Never mind your assumption that this being a restricted area doesn't apply to you."

The man was glaring slightly when he finished speaking. Harry had to give Snape credit, he had possessed a superior scowl.

"Captain Potter, SBS And You?"

The other man's eyes widened as Harry spoke.

"I'm sorry sir, we were told to expect someone, but not who. I'm Agent John Smith with the D.I.A."

Harry was confused now. "What does the Defense Intelligence Agency want with some old trunks?" The fact that He hadn't safed his rifle and that his finger was still dangerously close to the trigger was not lost on the Agent.

"Nothing Sir. We were the only unit in theater that had sufficient security clearance and was able to respond in a timely fashion."

Harry nodded his head. In the deepest corners of his Military record, it stated that he was magical. The vetting process to finding out about the magical world was intense, but finding out about magicals that worked in the non-magical Government was even more so, never mind about those that held positions on the various Militaries of the world.

"Have your men concentrate on the tree line. If we catch any shit it'll be from there."

Smith nodded and relayed the orders to his men while Harry approached the chest. Inspecting them he saw that they were made of some sort of black Hardwood wrapped in bands of iron. They were clean and showed no signs of rot despite being buried in the ground for who knows how long. The ancient coat of arms was plain as day in the middle of the lid. There was no visible seam in the wood just gaps in the iron bands. That meant it was sealed with magic. He traced his finger over the coat of arms and causing a pair or runes glow.

Smith, who was standing next to him spoke. "What do those mean? I know their runes, just not what they mean."

Harry looked at the man before turning back to the chest. "One means fire, the other blood. They're set in a locking configuration." He pulled a knife from the scabbard on his chest and cut open the pad of his thumb. He ran the bloody digit over the chest causing the blood rune to disappear. "It means that both have to be applied before the chest will unlock."

He conjured a small ball of fire and pressed it into the crest causing the fire rune to disappear, after a minute a line developed running through the gaps in the iron bands, it slowly spread from the middle of what he guessed was the front all the way around before fading. Once it was gone completely it hinged open under its own power revealing its contents to a flabbergasted Harry.

A confused Smith questioned Harry. "What are those that they could get this kind of reaction?"

Harry answered as he moved towards another chest. "Those are ingots of Mithril. They are both the most valuable thing in the world and worth next to nothing." Harry was trying to figure out how many ingots he was dealing with. Based on how many were on top and how deep the chest was he figured that there would be at least two hundred ingots in each chest. And there were fourteen chests.

Smith who was apparently confused by his answer broke his concentration. "How can something be valuable and worthless?"

Harry answered as he undid the runic lock on the second chest. "It's worthless because it's so valuable. There aren't many people that can afford the stuff that it gets made into." He stopped speaking when he saw the contents of the second chest, gold bars. Again like the first, he figured that there were two hundred bars in the chest.

Smith spoke for them both, "Gold bars? What the hell is going on here Captain Potter!"

Harry didn't answer right away. He just closed the chest and stood. "I don't know. I've read through my families records and I've never come across any mention of something like this. This couldn't have been from a supply train he didn't send his Knights this far east, Sarmatia was Western Russia."

By now Smith had tuned him out, thinking he was rambling. He was doing his own counting. Fourteen chests full of precious metals. He'd done his own mental math alongside the strange, silent Captain Potter. He'd notice that the locking rune hadn't reappeared when Potter closed the first chest. Gold Bars could fund quite a few, off the books missions.

Harry used his magic to put the chest into a circle and had gone to each with bloody fingers and fireballs. In the end, it turned out that ten chests were full of gold and the other four were likewise full of Mithril. He had no idea how to appraise the Mithril, but he knew that a 400oz (25lbs) gold bar cost $458,271. He choked on a mouthful of water when he did the math in his head, he had two thousand of the gold bars. "Fuck Me, $916,543,440." He made sure to keep his voice soft he didn't need to share that information here.

He pulled the patrol bag off of his back and rearranged the contents. He turned back to the chests and began to prep them for travel. He shrunk them to the size of a box of matches and made them weightless. The gold was easy to store, the Mithril was more resistant to his magic, it took more effort to manipulate them.

Mithril was loaded with its own natural magic, you had to overpower its natural resilience in order to work with it. The fact that the Goblins made items from it spoke of their ability, even if all they did was reforge the same Ore over and over. Eventually, though he managed to get all them into the kitbag. With the exception of a single bar that he had left out to examine.

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It took him an hour to pack all the chests away and he was in a good mood once he was done.

The sight and sound of an RPG slamming into one of the village buildings ruined his mood.

He pulled his pack, stuffing the ingot into the space between his chest and combat vest, and brought his rifle up to bear as another rocket flew over his head slamming into the ground in front of a pair of DIA Operators, spraying them with shrapnel.

He put a three round burst into the first fighter he saw, catching the man in the chest. The operators that hadn't been killed in the opening volley were firing as more tribesmen appeared. He absently saw Smith catch a burst in the face. He fired the under-barrel grenade launcher on his rifle toward a group of fighters, he targeted a tree with it to create more shrapnel.

By now most of the fighters were dead. Harry thought they were in the clear until he heard explosions echoing from the village. That was when he heard the thwump sound of mortars, a second round of explosions came from the village followed by another. Apparently, the tribesmen had bracketed the village, they were destroying it one building at a time. Some villagers were trying to flee from the village but just as many lay dead.

Gunfire echoed from the treeline drawing his attention. More fighters were coming from the treeline firing from the hip. Another group set up to fire a volley of RPG's towards the village. One of which caught one of the remaining DIA shooters in the chest, tearing through him and detonating on the ground. Harry was far enough behind the man that the only wound he got from the shrapnel was a cut on the forehead.

He pulled a grenade from his vest and tossed it out. He saw the shrapnel perforate a group of six tribesmen. If he had been allowed to use magic the fight would be a lot easier, but there were too many witnesses now and there was probably someone in the trees with a camera, they always brought one to large scale attacks so that they could film the killing of infidels.

He emptied the magazine in the rifle and fired a second round from the grenade launcher. He pulled his pistol from the holster on his leg as a figure darted around a low wall towards him. He put two rounds in the man's chest and another in the face. He reloaded his rifle and slide the last grenade round into the launcher and fired it towards a group carrying more RPGs. The explosions made the rockets the men were carrying discharge, shooting into the air and back into the treeline.

Something hit him in the left shoulder from behind. He moved his shirt to see that whatever it was had made its way between the gaps in the Mithril armor and torn a hole through the muscle. He'd have trouble moving the arm, but it wouldn't kill him. He heard someone running up behind him, he spun dropping to a knee. He put five rounds into the upper chest of the tribesmen charging him with a knife. A boy by western standards, barely a teenager, "Fuck!" He kicked the ground, "Stupid Fucking Kid!"

He could hear one of the DIA shooters talking to someone over a radio and could hear a helicopter approaching. He fired a long burst taking two more fighters. One running firing from the hip, the other in the process of throwing a grenade. The bullets caught him in the shoulder causing him to drop the grenade. It exploded while he was picking it up, blowing off the outstretched arm. Blood pumped furiously from the stump before the man went still.

Harry was hit again, knocking him back slightly. The bullets had hit him in the middle of his chest, impacting against the trauma plate. His sternum didn't appreciate the impacts. He turned and shot the man that had shot him, he was too busy fighting with a jammed rifle to bother to get into cover.

The sound of helicopters was close now, he hoped someone told them that it was a hot LZ. He watched a pair of Chinooks fly into the AO, one circled the village the other moved into position to fast rope reinforcements in. Harry stayed in cover as he counted the soldiers slide down the ropes hanging from the stationary helicopter. It was only a matter of time before someone took a shot at it.

As he saw the lines drop from the ramp he saw an RPG fly into the open ramp. The cockpit burst into flames as the projectile hit something important. The helicopter nosed into the ground and burst into flame as the aviation fuel ignited. The second helicopter landed on the far side of the village to avoid the same fate.

The tribesmen seemed to be in the mood for a sustained fight, normally they would have broken off by now. Someone was either trying to make a point or they were waiting for something. He dropped another empty magazine and slammed a new one home. He brought the rifle to bear as he saw one of the fighters take a knee with an RPG launcher on his shoulder Harry shot him as he fired. The projectile skipped across the ground, explosively tripping another fighter.

The Marines that made up the QRF made it to the edge of the battle and were firing at the treeline, the Navy Corpsmen with them were tending to the wounded. Harry kept firing his rifle even as one of the medics probed the whole in his shoulder. The man stuffed a wad of gauze into the whole and then moved on. One of the DIA shooters was laying nearby with his right arm blown off. Two medics were valiantly trying to stop the bleeding and stabilize the man's blood supply.

Harry broke from cover to grab the back of a Marines combat vest and pulled the wounded man into cover, getting hit again in the process. Harry felt the bullet open a bloody trench on the side of his left leg. He directed a medic to the man, having noticed the bubble filled blood that the man was coughing up.

Harry was looking around to see who was in charge. He saw a Marine wearing Lieutenants bars speaking into a radio. He could hear the junior officer trying to arrange air support and dust off while making his sit-rep and receive fresh intelligence. He approached the Lieutenant to try and get a feel of things beyond the firefight. All around him, Marines were trading fire with the tribal fighters who had started to bring up heavier weapons.

"Lieutenant. What's going on?" Harry all but shouted.

The junior officer barely looked at him before replying, "Sir this is no place for civilians. Who are you?" He apparently missed the various weapons Harry was carrying.

Harry's response caught the man off guard with his reply. "Captain Potter, SBS. Answer my question, Lieutenant."

The junior officer eyes widened, not at the name but the senior rank. "Yes, Sir! I managed to get us air support and ex-fil. When we leave we'll be taking the surviving villagers with us." He paused. "What we're dealing with is now believed to be a reinforced scouting unit. An IS/R drone detected a number of large columns coming over the Pakistan border. Bagrahm has been dealing with indirect mortar fire and RPG volleys all day."

Harry digested what he heard before speaking. "What do we have for air support?"

The Lieutenant "Adams", according to his nametag, pointed to his tac- map. "A Specter and a pair of Strike Eagles. I've been ordered to use the air cover to pull back to the western edge of the village. Command wants us to draw as many native fighters out as we can. After we ex-fil a flight of bombers I'm not supposed to know about is going to drop a Fuck-Ton of JDAMS on the village and the columns back over the border."

Harry sighed. "Does our ex-fil have an escort?"

Lieutenant Adams nodded, "Whiskey Cobras."

Harry nodded. "Alright. Have a couple of fire teams break off and start to bring casualties to the other side of the village. Have the DIA operators fall back with them as a security element. Let me know when our air support enters the AO."

He didn't hear the junior officers reply, he had been shooting towards a group of fighters that kept trying to set up a machine gun. He saw another group of fighters setting up a mortar tube near the treeline, they were getting brazen. His rifle fire caught the man acting as the loader in the chest causing the man to drop the mortar shell he was holding. The armed bomb struck the base plate and exploded, destroying the weapon and killing the second man.

He pulled a grenade from his vest and gave a three count, before tossing it into the branches of a tree. He had seen a tribesmen climb into its limbs and take pot shots at the Marines. The explosion evicted him from the tree in pieces.

"Captain Potter! Specters on the horn. Call sign Spyro."

Harry took the handset from the radioman. "Call sign Spyro, Call sign Roman. I need cover fire, danger close. Hit the treeline on the eastern side of the village with your 20's and 40's. Copy?" The fire support from an AC-130U would be a big help.

"Copy. Danger close. 20's and 40's. Have your men key their IR tags." A female voice replied.

He handed the handset back to the radioman. "Get on the squad net. Have everyone key their IR tags." He looked around. "Where's Adams?"

"Dead Sir, RPG. Sargent Simmons is Senior."

Harry sighed. Life was cheap in this part of the world. "Have him start pulling the company back in pairs." As he finished speaking the air was filled with the sound of chainsaws mixed with the occasional thwump.

He could see the Marines falling back. Some taking their wounded and dead comrades others going door to door, making sure that the remaining buildings were empty. He motioned for the radioman to follow him as he made his way over to Agent Smith's corpse. He passed the man's rifle to the Marine before lifting the dead man over his uninjured shoulder.

He ran halfway across the village with the remaining Marines before he put the man down and took the radio.

"Spyro, Roman."

"Go Roman." She had a nice voice.

"Ordnance check?"

After a minute, she spoke again. "We've used half our 20's but we're green."

Harry nodded even though she couldn't see it. "Roger. Friendlies have withdrawn from the eastern side of the village."

"Copy. Fast movers five out. Rotaries ten."

"Copy. Roman out."

He handed the radioman the handset and picked up Smith again and made his way to the LZ. He placed Smith's body with the deceased. The surviving Chinook took off carrying with it what he guessed was some of the wounded. A group of Marines was doing their best to remove the pilot's bodies from the burnt out helicopter.

Harry walked over to the man that the radioman identified as Sargent Simmons. The Sargent was standing over the bodies of some of his Marines. "Sargent Simmons?" He was a large man with a scar over his left eye.

"Sir." He nodded noticing Harry's choice of gear. "You must be Captain Potter. I hope whatever you came out here for was worth it." He gave Harry a searching look as he gestured to the dead. Harry didn't have an answer for the man. The chests weren't worth the human cost, but the opportunity to destroy such a large enemy force was and both men knew it. Soldiers had always been expendable in the grand scheme of things.

Neither man said anything as the radioman approached. "Captain Potter, fast movers are on station. Call sign Raven."

He took the offered headset. "Raven respond."

After a minute, another female voice responded. *Must be a day for female aviators.* "Identify." *Strong female aviators at that.* He smirked and watched a pair of Ospreys land, the tilt rotors had just enough room.

"Call sign Roman. Friendlies have commenced evac. Hostiles have made it to the eastern edge of the village. Be advised, there is a Specter in the AO."

The voice came back quickly. "Roger, we'll coordinate fire. We've got a load of clusters and AGM's for'em."

A jet screamed over the hostiles general location and the area erupted in hundreds of explosions as the cluster bombs sub-munitions detonated.

"Roman be advised. Hostiles are massing at the southern edge of the village. We've expended our 20's and half our 40's."

Harry sighed. "Roger. Do what you can with your 105s."

The first Osprey carrying the deceased took off followed by the second carrying the first batch of villagers. The Marines were trading fire with the tribesmen that made it through the air support. The Cobras were making runs with their guns and rocket pods. They were using the high explosives to level the buildings furthest from the Marines, denying their use as cover, one by one. The Strike Eagles were causing explosions up the mountain. The occasional explosions to the south let him know that the Specter was still on station.

The Marines themselves were using the lull in the fight to do an ammo check, Harry did the same. He swapped a nearly empty magazine for a full one, his last. After that, he was down to his pistol and knife if things got bad. He had used all but one of his grenades.

The second pair of Ospreys landed for the rest of the villagers when the radio toned. "Roman, Raven. Be advised our ECM's being pinged. We've expended our air to ground, switching to guns."

Harry sighed. ECM noise meant SAM's. "Roger Raven."

A nearby explosion drew his attention. He saw a cobra minus half of its tail boom spin into the middle of the village. *FUCK!* "All units be advised Hostiles are using SAM's." He saw the Strike Eagles pop flares and chaff as they pulled away sharply.

The finale Osprey landed and the remaining Marines formed a tight perimeter around it as Harry led a fire team to the Cobra crash. Spyro was hitting the large group of hostiles with its howitzer. When he reached the helicopter he fired on a pair of tribesmen trying to drag the unresponsive pilot from the cockpit. Harry cut the pilot free while one of the Marines did the same for the weapons officer, neither had a pulse. The weapons officer was bleeding from the ears.

"Spyro be advised. Downed aircraft's systems are intact."

"Roger, get clear, we'll hit it with a 105."

Harry passed the pilot to a larger Marine carrying a SAW, taking the man's weapon in exchange. They made it to the LZ the same time as a group of tribesmen. He dropped to a knee and dropped two of them before they got into cover. He motioned for the Marines to scoot past. He fired another burst at the tribesmen as they passed into the Marine perimeter.

He heard someone running up behind him. He turned and fired in time to drop a man wearing what looked like a suicide vest. He was proven correct when the body exploded, cratering the walls on either side of the alley and showering him in bits and pieces of dead guy.

He turned and fired on the first group before making a break for the relative security of the LZ. He followed the Marines carrying the deceased pilots to the Osprey still carrying the SAW. He attached a safety line to a carabiner on the small of his back. When he was secure in the open ramp he waved over the nearby Sargent Simmons. "Time to go, Sargent, bring them in."

He shouldered the squad level weapon grimacing at the pain in the joint. The leg wound made running a chore. The fire from the hostiles picked up as the Marines fell back into the Osprey with Harry and the Crew Chief firing over their heads, Harry with the SAW and the Crew Chief on the large 50. cal.

As the Osprey rose he compensated for the movement and dropped to a knee and kept firing. He emptied the box magazine and passed the weapon back to the empty handed Marine. He turned back to the open ramp in time to warn the rest of the occupants of the craft. "RPG!" He didn't have time for more. The explosive projectile was streaking up from the ground trailing white smoke. Everything was in slow motion as it flew towards the aircraft, nothing else existed.

Despite the pilots maneuvering, Harry watched it as it crossed over the lip of the ramp and flew towards him. He felt it hit him lightly on the chest, where the Mithril ingot was sitting uncomfortably, and about where the dragon would be on the curiass. He felt the Mithril heat up before he lost all thought in a flash of white.

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For a while, it felt like he was floating. He could vaguely smell something and something roaring in the distance. After a while, he could hear voices. A few words floated through to his conscious mind but he couldn't comprehend them. All of the words had emotion behind them, though. He could sense the anger in whatever a Baratheon was and the concern and love in Lyanna.

After that there was nothing. He wasn't sure how long he floated there. At times, he could feel someone touching his face or covering him with something. What seemed like months passed before Harry felt like he had some control of his body. He couldn't move but he could manipulate his magic. It was as potent as ever but it was reacting strangely with the atmosphere. Wherever he was, there was more magic in the air than anywhere he'd ever been, this place was wilder than even the Forbidden Forest.

Reaching out further with his magic he could sense his swords and armor sitting not too far away from where he lay. The farther he went the more lost he became. After a moment he could feel two presences ghosting his own, one felt like wood, the other ice. He regained his senses when he felt someone enter the room he was in. A woman. A pregnant woman, one nearly ready to give birth. He could feel her wipe is brow before sitting on the bed.

"I had hoped that you would awaken before things in King's Landing got bad." Harry thought she had a nice voice.

"Lannister Banners have been sighted marching towards the city, but I don't know if it's to reinforce us or stab us in the back. Ser Barristan is going to try and smuggle Rhaenys and I out of the city in case of the later." She paused. "My Lord Husband was killed on the Trident by Robert Baratheon. Lyanna's brother Eddard is leading a northern host here but won't get here before Lannister's men. They'll sure to turn against us when they learn of Rhaegar's death."

She stopped speaking when an older man burst into the room carrying a child.

"Princess, we need to leave now! Jamie Lannister has killed the King!"

Harry felt the child run across the room to the woman.

"Is there anyone in the keep we can trust?"

Harry could sense her distress. He could feel that the baby had decided to join them.

"Ser Arthur has gathered the last of the House Martell Guards. The Spider is helping to collect wagons and provisions for the journey." The male voice was worried but determined.

"I'm not going anywhere Ser Barristan. Aegon has decided to come now. Find them and bring them here. If we can hold out till the Stark host gets here we'll be fine." The woman, on the other hand, was calm and collected. But you could hear the anxiety in her voice.

"But Princess!"

"No Ser Barristan. I'll be fine. I'll even bar the door behind you, now go."

He could feel the man's hesitation, but he followed the orders and left.

"Sweetness, I want you to get under the bed. No matter what happens, don't come out unless I call you. Okay?"

"Okay, mommy." The little girl that the voice belonged to couldn't have been more than five or six years of age. Harry felt a slight bump as the small girl crawled under the bed. He heard the woman rearrange her clothes and slide down to the floor against the wall.

He was urging his magic on at this point. Trying to overcome whatever was keeping him from moving. He kept pushing. He could feel the magic in his fingertips, feel it building behind his eyes and in his chest. He became desperate when he heard the door jar and then something slams against it. He could hear the woman whimper with each impact. He burst into motion at the same time as the door burst open.

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Glossary

Number 10 - 10 Downing Street, is the headquarters of Her Majesty's Government and the official residence and office of the First Lord of the Treasury, a post which, for much of the 18th and 19th centuries and invariably since 1905, has been held by the Prime Minister.

AGM - Air to Ground Missile

AO - Area of Operation

Chaff - Originally called Window is a radar countermeasure in which aircraft or other targets spread a cloud of small, thin pieces of aluminum, metalized glass fiber or plastic, which either appears as a cluster of primary targets on radar screens or swamps the screen with multiple returns.

Chinook - The Boeing CH-47 Chinook is an American twin-engine, tandem rotor heavy-lift helicopter. Its primary roles are troop movement, artillery placement, and battlefield resupply. It has a wide loading ramp at the rear of the fuselage and three external ventral cargo hooks. With a top speed of 170 knots. (196 mph, 315 km/h)

D.I.A. - The Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) is an external intelligence service of the United States specializing in defense and military intelligence. A component of the Department of Defense (DoD)

ECM - An electronic countermeasure (ECM) is an electrical or electronic device designed to trick or deceive radar, sonar or other detection systems, like infrared (IR) or lasers. It may be used both offensively and defensively to deny targeting information to an enemy.

EOD - Explosive Ordinance Disposal

FN SCAR-L - The Special Operations Forces Combat Assault Rifle (SCAR) is a gas-operated (short-stroke gas piston) self-loading rifle with a rotating bolt and a firing rate of 625 rounds/min. It is constructed to be extremely modular, including barrel change to switch between calibers. The rifle was developed by FN Herstal (FNH) for the United States Special Operations Command (SOCOM) to satisfy the requirements of the SCAR competition. This family of rifles consists of two main types. The SCAR-L, for "light", is chambered in the 5.56×45mm NATO cartridge and the SCAR-H, for "heavy", fires 7.62×51mm NATO.

IS/R Drone - MQ-1 Predator Drone in an Intelligence Surveillance Reconnaissance role. Not to be confused with direct action(armed) ISTAR Drones.

JDAMS - The Joint Direct Attack Munition (JDAM) is a guidance kit that converts unguided bombs, or "dumb bombs", into all-weather "smart" munitions.

LZ - Landing Zone

Osprey - The Bell Boeing V-22 Osprey is an American multi-mission, tiltrotor military aircraft with both vertical takeoff and landing (VTOL), and short takeoff and landing (STOL) capabilities. It is designed to combine the functionality of a conventional helicopter with the long-range, high-speed cruise performance of a turboprop aircraft.

SAM - Surface to Air Missile

SAW - The M294 Squad Automatic Weapon is a belt or Magazine fed 5.56x45mm Light Machine Gun developed by FN Herstal as the Minimi. My personal favorite is the Mk46 version.

SBS - The Special Boat Service (SBS) is the special forces unit of the Naval Service of the United Kingdom.

Specter - The Lockheed AC-130 is a C-130 cargo plane converted into a gunship. The port side of the AC-130 houses firing ports for an array of cannons, howitzers, and Gatling guns.

Strike Eagle - The McDonnell Douglas (now Boeing) F-15E Strike Eagle is an American all-weather multirole strike fighter derived from the McDonnell Douglas F-15 Eagle.

Remington ACR- The Adaptive Combat Rifle (ACR) is the production name for an updated version of the Masada Adaptive Combat Weapon System. A prospective replacement for the M4 Carbine chambered for either 5.56x45mm NATO or 6.8mm SPC

RPG - Rocket Propelled Grenade

Whiskey Cobra - The Bell AH-1 SuperCobra is a twin-engine attack helicopter based on the United States Army's single-engine AH-1 Cobra. The twin Cobra family, itself part of the larger Huey family, includes the AH-1J SeaCobra, the AH-1T Improved SeaCobra, and the AH-1W SuperCobra. The AH-1W has been the backbone of the United States Marine Corps's attack helicopter fleet.