35. Across the Atlantic: Preparations

Tina Goldstein sat at the small desk in her apartment in New York, a cup of tea cooling beside her as she flipped through a stack of notes. Though retired from her position as Head of the Department of Aurors at MACUSA, Tina often found herself drawn back into its affairs. She was frequently sought out by her former juniors for advice or unofficial assistance, her expertise too valuable to leave behind completely.

The enchanted quill in her hand hovered over a blank sheet of parchment, waiting for her next thought. Tina tapped the edge of the desk, deep in contemplation.

The ringing of her enchanted phone broke her concentration. She glanced at the glowing runes on its surface and saw Newt's name flicker faintly. Picking up, she answered with a practiced calm.

"Newt," she said, her voice steady but warm. "Is everything alright?"

On the other end, the gentle sounds of magical creatures stirring in their enclosures filtered through the line. Newt's voice came next, steady but laced with urgency. "Tina, are you free to talk? It's important."

Tina straightened in her chair, a hint of worry creeping into her tone. "I'm listening. What's going on?"

Newt didn't hesitate, diving straight into the issue. "There's a poaching network—one far larger than I anticipated. It's organized, Tina. Far more than just a few opportunistic hunters."

Tina reached for a notepad, jotting down his words. "How organized are we talking?"

"Globally," Newt said grimly. "They've set up camps, smuggling routes, and buyers across continents. It's all connected to the Malmorin family—a name I'm sure I've heard in connection with dark dealings before."

Tina frowned, her pen pausing mid-note. "Malmorin… That name does ring a bell. They're an old wizarding family, aren't they?"

"They are," Newt confirmed. "And they seem to be at the center of this operation. I've already raided one of their camps in the Black Forest, but it's clear that was just a fraction of what they're running. There's evidence suggesting they have ties in America as well."

Tina's frown deepened. "In America? Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have called otherwise," Newt replied, his tone earnest. "This network isn't confined to Europe. It's everywhere."

Tina leaned back in her chair, processing the scope of what he was describing. The Malmorins weren't just wealthy—they were influential. If they were orchestrating a global poaching operation, it would be more than just a magical law enforcement issue.

"I need your help, Tina," Newt continued, his voice steady but imploring. "Could you investigate the American front? See if MACUSA has any leads or records tied to the Malmorin family or their dealings with poachers?"

For a moment, Tina was silent, her mind already moving to the people she could contact, the files she would need to access.

"I'll see what I can do," she said finally, her tone firm. "If this network is as widespread as you think, it's only a matter of time before it reaches us too."

Newt sighed, relief evident in his voice. "Thank you. I'll keep you updated on what we find here."

"You'd better," Tina said, her tone softening into a teasing lilt. "And Newt… be careful."

"I always am," he replied, though they both knew it wasn't entirely true.

As the call ended, Tina placed the receiver down and looked at the notes she'd scribbled during her conversation with Newt. The phrase global poaching operation stood out, underlined twice in bold strokes. She stared at the words for a moment before exhaling sharply and pushing her chair back.

She stood, pacing for a moment before turning to her bookshelf. The rows were neatly packed with old files and reports from her time at MACUSA, each one meticulously labeled and organized. Tina pulled out a stack of files marked "Poaching and Trafficking Cases" and laid them across her desk.

The name Malmorin tugged at her memory, a faint thread of recognition that she couldn't quite place. Flipping through the files with practiced ease, she scanned each page for any mention of the family or their possible connections to the American front of the operation.

Nothing concrete surfaced, but the sheer scope of what Newt had described painted a vivid picture. Camps in Europe, shipments crossing borders, buyers spread across continents—this wasn't the work of disorganized hunters. It was a carefully coordinated network, one with influence and reach that stretched deep into the magical world.

"This isn't just about beasts," Tina murmured, setting down a file and leaning back in her chair. "If they're operating here, they could be threatening the balance of the magical world itself."

Her gaze flicked to a photograph resting on her desk. In the picture, she and Newt stood side by side in front of the Thunderbird Reserve in Arizona, smiling after releasing several rescued creatures. The memory stirred a familiar fire in her chest, one that had driven her through her years as an Auror.

"We'll stop them," she said quietly, her resolve hardening. "Together."

Tina moved to her desk, pulling out fresh sheets of parchment and an enchanted quill. If she was going to tackle this, she needed allies—people she trusted implicitly.

Tina moved to her desk, pulling out fresh sheets of parchment and an enchanted quill. If she was going to tackle this, she needed allies—people she trusted implicitly.

The first name she wrote was Harriet Quince, a sharp and determined junior Auror who had been her protégé in her final years at MACUSA. Harriet's no-nonsense approach to investigations and her relentless pursuit of the truth made her an invaluable ally. Tina knew that if anyone could help connect the dots, it was Harriet.

The second letter was addressed to Lillian Stone, a no-nonsense Magizoologist who had worked alongside Tina in tracking illegal beast traders years ago. If anyone could recognize the telltale signs of poacher activity in America, it was Lillian.

The third name was Benjamin Pratt, a seasoned Auror with a sharp mind and a reputation for uncovering hidden networks. Benjamin's expertise in rooting out dark dealings within the magical community would be crucial.

Finally, she penned a note to Tom Everard, a junior investigator at MACUSA with a knack for uncovering hidden connections in even the most mundane-seeming cases. Tom's easygoing demeanor hid a sharp intellect, and his unconventional methods often yielded surprising results.

Tina sealed each letter with a flick of her wand, the wax melting into MACUSA's official sigil. She carried them to the enchanted owl perch by her window, where sleek, dark-feathered owls waited patiently.

"Deliver these as quickly as you can," she instructed, attaching the letters one by one.

The owls hooted softly in acknowledgment before taking off into the twilight sky, their wings disappearing into the haze of the New York skyline.

Tina stood at the window for a moment, watching until the owls were out of sight. The city below was bustling as always, its streets alive with the glow of street lamps and the hum of life. But to Tina, it felt as though the shadow of the poaching network loomed just beneath the surface, waiting to spread further into her world.

Returning to her desk, Tina reopened the files and notes she had gathered, determined to find any thread that could connect the poachers to American soil. Hours passed as she cross-referenced reports, piecing together fragments of information.

Finally, she stumbled upon a report from years ago—a routine MACUSA investigation into unlicensed magical creature transports. The case had been closed due to lack of evidence, but one name stood out in the records: Malmorin Exports.

Tina's eyes narrowed. 'Exports?' She rifled through more documents, finding scattered mentions of the company in shipping records from ports along the Eastern Seaboard. While nothing directly incriminated the Malmorins, the pattern was unmistakable.

"It's a cover," she muttered, her quill scribbling notes furiously. "They're using legitimate trade routes to smuggle magical creatures."

The connection was tenuous, but it was enough to confirm that Newt's suspicions were correct—the poachers were operating in America, and the Malmorins were at the heart of it.

With her initial findings in hand, Tina knew her next step: gathering the allies she'd contacted and setting up a secure base of operations.

She glanced at the photograph of Newt once more, her resolve unwavering. "We're onto something," she said quietly. "Let's see how far this thread goes." Tina prepared herself for the challenge ahead. The poaching network was vast and dangerous, but with her skills, her connections, and Newt's support, she was ready to face it head-on.

The first light of dawn stretched over New York City, painting the skyline in hues of orange and pink. Tina Goldstein tightened her scarf against the morning chill as she made her way to MACUSA headquarters. Though she no longer held a formal position there, she knew the labyrinthine halls as well as anyone.

Reaching the grand bronze doors, Tina took a deep breath before stepping inside. The bustling sounds of early morning activity filled the air—clerks rushing with stacks of parchment, Aurors discussing assignments, and enchanted memos darting through the corridors like restless birds.

Her destination was clear: the Records Department. If there was any trace of the Malmorin family or their poaching activity in America, it would be buried in those files.

As Tina approached the Records Department, she paused in the hallway, her eyes narrowing at the enchanted plaque on the door. Since her retirement, access to restricted records required an active Auror's credentials—credentials she no longer had.

"Great," she muttered, crossing her arms. "Guess I need a little help."

She glanced around and spotted a familiar figure—a young Auror she had mentored during her final years in the department. The junior, a wiry wizard named Timothy Groves, was hurrying down the corridor with a stack of case files balanced precariously in his arms.

"Timothy," Tina called out, her voice firm but not unkind.

The young man froze mid-step, nearly dropping the files as he turned. "Ms. Goldstein! Uh, I mean… Tina. I didn't expect to see you here."

Tina approached with a small smile. "I need a favor."

Timothy's eyes widened. "Of course! Anything you need."

"I need access to the Records Department," she said simply.

Timothy blinked. "Oh. Well, uh… I'd love to help, but you know they've tightened security since you… well, since you left." He fidgeted slightly. "They only allow active Aurors in there now."

Tina raised an eyebrow. "And you're an active Auror, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Perfect," Tina interrupted smoothly. "You're going to escort me in."

Timothy hesitated, glancing at the plaque on the door. "Isn't that, uh, bending the rules a bit?"

Tina gave him a pointed look. "Timothy, if I'm asking, it's because it's important. Do you trust me?"

The junior Auror straightened, his nervousness giving way to a sense of purpose. "Of course I trust you. Let's go."

With Timothy leading the way, they entered the Records Department. Tina couldn't help but chuckle softly at his stiff posture as he tried to look as official as possible.

The Records Department was a vast labyrinth of enchanted filing cabinets and magical archives. Timothy's credentials allowed them access to the restricted section, where files on dark activities and suspected criminal syndicates were kept.

Tina began her search methodically, pulling file after file and skimming for anything that might connect to the Malmorin family or poaching. Timothy, eager to assist, brought over a stack of additional documents.

After nearly an hour, Tina's sharp eyes landed on a name: The Silver Serpent Syndicate.

Her pulse quickened as she read further. The syndicate was linked to smuggling operations along the Appalachian Mountains and in the American Southwest. The records hinted at connections to magical trade routes, but the details were sparse, suggesting a deliberate effort to obscure their activities.

"This kind of operation," Tina murmured, her thoughts swirling, "always has leaks. Either from the top or the bottom." She jotted down the key details, her instincts telling her there was more to uncover.

Timothy approached cautiously, sensing her focus. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Tina nodded, slipping the files into her satchel. "I did. Thank you, Timothy."

He beamed, clearly proud to have been of help. "Anything else I can do?"

Tina shook her head, pulling on her coat. "Not for now. But keep your ears open. If you hear anything strange, let me know immediately."

"Yes, ma'am," Timothy said, giving a quick salute before hurrying off.

Tina watched him go, a small smile tugging at her lips. It was good to see the department in capable hands, even if it wasn't her own anymore.

As she left MACUSA, Tina felt a flutter of movement in her satchel. She opened it to find a letter resting atop the files. The handwriting on the envelope was familiar—Lillian Stone.

Standing on the steps of the building, Tina opened the letter and read:

Tina,

I just busted one of their camps. Not sure if it's connected to what you mentioned, but it had the same signs: illegal beast trade, smuggled parts, and a lot of enchanted concealments. I'll bring everything I have and meet you at your place at noon. Let's compare notes then.

Tina smiled at Lillian's efficient tone. Lillian always got straight to the point, a quality Tina deeply appreciated.

As she tucked the letter away, another owl swooped down, dropping a second envelope into her hands. This one bore the bold handwriting of Benjamin Pratt.

Opening it, Tina read:

Goldstein,

I'll be there.

That was all it said, but Tina chuckled at the brevity. "Always direct as ever, Benjamin," she muttered, shaking her head.

With her allies beginning to mobilize, Tina's confidence grew. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, and with Newt and her team by her side, she was ready to take the next step in dismantling the poaching network.

But, she felt a familiar tug at her heart. The case was urgent, but it had been weeks since she'd seen Queenie. The thought of her younger sister's warm smile and the comforting aroma of the bakery was too tempting to resist.

She hailed a cab and gave the address: 443 Rivington Street. Jacob Kowalski's bakery had become a staple of the neighborhood, known not only for its delicious pastries but also for its homey, welcoming atmosphere.

The bell above the door jingled as Tina entered, the smell of fresh bread and sugar wrapping around her like a warm blanket. The morning rush had tapered off, leaving a few customers scattered at tables, sipping coffee and enjoying their treats. Behind the counter, Queenie was arranging a tray of powdered donuts, her golden curls catching the sunlight streaming through the windows.

The moment Queenie spotted her, her face lit up. "Tina!" she called, setting the tray down and rushing around the counter to embrace her sister.

Tina returned the hug, a rare softness in her expression. "Hey, Queenie."

As they pulled apart, Queenie tilted her head, her brows furrowing slightly. "You're up to something, aren't you?"

Tina rolled her eyes but couldn't help a smirk. "When am I not?"

Queenie chuckled, though the worry lingered in her eyes. "You're getting into trouble again, aren't you?" she said, her tone teasing but protective.

"It's not trouble," Tina replied, brushing off the concern. "It's work."

Queenie gave her a look that said she wasn't convinced but didn't press further. "Come on, sit down. I'll get you some coffee and pastries."

Tina found a corner table, glancing around the bakery as Queenie returned with a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of freshly baked goods.

"Here you go," Queenie said, setting the tray down. "Eat up—you're looking a little peaky."

Tina snorted, picking up a croissant. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Queenie slid into the seat across from her, resting her chin on her hands. "So, what's this work of yours? Something exciting?"

Tina hesitated, not wanting to burden her sister with the gravity of the poaching case. "Just helping my junior," she said vaguely.

Queenie's knowing smile made it clear she wasn't buying it. "You're as bad at lying as Jacob."

Tina raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of Jacob, where is he?"

"Oh, he's in the back, working on a new recipe," Queenie said, waving a hand. "You should see him—he's like a little kid with a new toy every time he tries something different." Her smile turned wistful. "I'm so proud of him, you know? This place, everything we've built—it feels like a dream."

Tina softened at the sincerity in her sister's voice. "You two have done something amazing here. It's a bright spot in a dark world."

Queenie reached across the table, placing a hand on Tina's. "And you're out there making the world less dark. Just… be careful, alright?"

Tina smiled faintly. "Always."

After finishing her breakfast, Tina stood and stretched, grabbing a bag of pastries to-go. "Thanks for the coffee, Queenie. And the company."

"Anytime, sis," Queenie said, pulling her into another hug. "Don't be a stranger, okay? And if you need help, you know where to find me."

Tina nodded, the warmth of the visit lingering as she stepped out into the crisp morning air.

Back at her apartment, Tina set the bag of pastries on the counter and returned to her desk. The notes and files spread out before her were a stark contrast to the cheerful ambiance of the bakery, but she felt recharged.

As she picked up Lillian's letter again, reading through it with fresh eyes, her resolve solidified. With her allies rallying and the first threads of the poaching network unraveling, Tina was ready to push forward.

The fight wasn't just about beasts; it was about preserving the delicate balance of the magical world. And for that, she would give everything she had.