[ EU ] The classified report of the Elite British SAS team that very nearly took out Lord Voldemort , as told by it 's sole survivor .

After all that preparation we failed. After decades of our brightest trying to crack the secrets of that damn train station. After years of aerial surveillance, our drones dodging… kids on broomsticks. Months of hand carrying our damn gear through that freaky ass wall. Weeks of the trek to the cave he called home, and days of getting the teams in position. 
 Last night we went over the operational order one more time. Our intelligence said Tom Marvolo Riddle, a.k.a Lord Voldemort, you know who, he who must not be named, blah blah you get the point, is said to be missing a nose and be ugly as hell, and yes, it honestly said that in the report. We struck under the cover of night, our suppressed high caliber rifles making short work of the two guards outside the house. 
 Then all hell broke loose. As the first two teams made their way to the house the woods around the house exploded in motion. Creatures with long billowy cloaks started floating around, we opened up. Fire superiority and all that. It quickly became clear that they couldn ’ t care less about fire superiority, they floated along the ranks, sucking the life out of each man in the team closest to the woods. 
 With the plan shot to shit I looked over at the man closest to me and yelled at him to follow me. I put a boot to the front door and we cleared the main floor of the house. Just as we thought nobody was home this little punk with bleached blonde hair and an obvious attitude problem comes bursting out of a false wall. He yelled abra kadabra or some shit and pointed a stick at the man I came in with, Jenkins I think his name was. Jenkins hesitated when he saw that this kid couldn ’ t have been more than 15, Jenkins never hesitated again. With the sounds of screaming dying down outside and Jenkins dead I realized I might be the only person left to complete this mission. I shouldered my rifle and yelled abra kadabra right back at him as I squeezed the trigger. With the threat eliminated I turned to enter the basement, where ‘ he who must be shot in the face ’ had to be. 
 I woke up in what I can only assume is that basement. Every single man I came here with is in this basement with me. If someone, somewhere.. somehow finds this, bomb that train station and be done with it. We played our hand and were shown to be lacking. 
 
 The Prime Minister folded the report for the last time, it had been found in a warehouse with the bodies of all 17 men that went on that mission. In the ensuing weeks the terrorist cell retaliated with surprising force, for one dead they had killed millions. With a sigh he presses a button on the wall of his underground bunker. The Nuclear War had begun. 

