Deadly Nadders were jumping on vehicles, stationary and motionless. Gronkles were ramming through anything that wasn't moving – and even some things that were. Hideous Zipplebacks were rolling down the street as flaming wheels. Monstrous Nightmares were climbing on walls, dripping fire back to the streets below.
Just another raid. Until the twins turned on an unusual siren.
When Chief Stoik first heard the mechanical Nadder squawk on a loop, out-shouting the other sirens, his first response was to look for the Thorstons' shared patrol car. He wanted to pull them over and demand they turn the blasted thing off, lecture them about regulations, and interrogate them on how they'd manage to fit a recording into their siren.
His second response was, uncharacteristically enough, to stop and stare at the weredragons. Nightmares were falling off walls, Gronkles were smacking into walls, and Zipplebacks were getting tangled up in each other. All of them were beating as hasty a retreat as they could, which wasn't as hasty as usual. And the Nadders? They collapsed wherever they happened to be, wing-arms wrapped tightly over heads, and writhed in agony. They were completely defenseless when the cops rushed them and, depending on the officer, shot them point-blank or took them captive.
Then Stoik was still looking for the twins – but behind his angry countenance he had a different interrogation for them. The dragons had never done anything like that before, and the only unusual variable he knew of was that siren.
When Astrid and Hiccup were called to Stoik's office the next morning, there wasn't much doubt in either of their minds that he'd learned of the siren and gotten out of the twins just who had given it to them. The only question now was if this interview would be positive or negative.
"I think we are going to be in trouble," Hiccup said anxiously, wringing his hands. "I mean, even if that siren did what we thought it would do, it wasn't something we were ever told to build."
Astrid shrugged. "As tech-savvy as you are, building that contraption didn't take much time from our investigation. And it was beneficial." She still had trouble believing that, but it was all over the office when they first walked in the door: the dragon-call siren had drastically increased the number of casualties on the side of the weredragons, and significantly reduced the injuries on their own side.
Tomah and Rowan had been thrilled. As predicted.
"We should make a few more of those, with other cries," Hiccup mused. "If we only use one voice, eventually Helheim's Gate will stop sending that particular weredragon and possibly create new and deadlier species to take its place."
Astrid thought about that and decided Hiccup had a point. The force knew the traditional four and were familiar with their attack patterns, and planned their own attack formations accordingly to reduce damages; a new "species" with a new attack style would send Berk's property damage and casualty rating back up, as the force wasted time trying to find counters.
There wasn't time to discuss the topic further, though, before they had to enter the chief's office.
Chief Haddock didn't keep them waiting, and didn't mince words. "The Thorstons have explained to me that their non-regulation siren was constructed and installed by you two, for the express purpose of disabling weredragons." He glowered fiercely at both of them, leaving it open to question whether he approved or disapproved.
Astrid nodded. "Hiccup built the thing during his off hours and fitted it to their squad car yesterday. I programmed the Nadder voice; there weren't any recordings available – that we could access without having to explain ourselves – and of the two of us I was the only one who had ever heard a Deadly Nadder."
Hiccup cringed.
Astrid was just making a mental note to ask him later what she said that he thought was wrong when the chief leaned forwards, his eyes narrowing. "Why was it so important that you not explain yourselves to your superiors?"
Oh – ack. That was stupid. She'd just assumed… "Didn't Rowan and Tomah tell you what we said when we offered them the new siren?" she asked cautiously.
"They said that you claimed the effects on attacking weredragons might be…unpredictable. I couldn't believe it. A device as likely to backfire as to be truly useful, and you give it to the two loosest cannons on the force?"
Astrid held at attention and kept her features composed, but inside she was cringing as much as Hiccup had been a moment ago – if not more. Giving the siren to Rowan and Tomah had been her decision, because she hadn't wanted to inflate Scott's already-large ego by giving him the attention. "Actually, sir, Hiccup ran the numbers and was far better than half-sure the corrupted playback would have the desired effect. Everything we gave the twins about 'unpredictability' was a bribe."
One of those formidable red eyebrows lifted. "…A bribe."
"Russian Roulette with a new toy is just the thing to attract the twins' attention," Hiccup put in. "Sweetening the original deal, as it were."
The stony gaze slid to Hiccup. "And what was 'the original deal'?"
Hiccup didn't cringe again, but it was a near thing. "That was the part they should have mentioned. We couldn't give it to anyone else: only they were, um, innovative enough to accept this completely new and still potentially risky technique."
The chief snorted. "Reckless and crazy enough, you mean."
"It did work, though."
"Right." He rubbed his forehead. "Now explain to me why I shouldn't dock both your salaries for letting this research and experimentation distract you from your original case?"
Astrid stepped in before Hiccup could get out more than a brief stuttered noise, and dove straight off the deep end. What's that expression – in for a penny, in for a pound? "Actually, the Night Fury told us himself that distorted dragon cries would have that effect."
Hard to tell if that spastic twitch of Hiccup's was another cringe or if he was bracing for a coming apocalypse. If it was an explosion he was expecting, amazingly, he didn't get it – though Chief Haddock went extremely still and stared at them both.
For a long moment there was silence, as Astrid turned slightly and favored Hiccup with a look that promised retribution if he started babbling and ruined this moment. Then she withdrew an iPad from her pocket and placed it lightly on the chief's desk.
"If you would push play, sir, you'll hear the entire interview." Well, not the entire interview: Astrid had cut her unprofessional, undignified response to the Night Fury's entrance, and after much consideration had also removed his explosive laugh. "And, if I might be so bold as to remind you, our mission was first and foremost to observe the Night Fury. I was given to understand that bringing him down would come later, when we better understood his powers."
The chief muttered something ominous into his beard – and pushed Play.
Astrid flinched a time or two at her own attitude in the recording. Had she really sounded that…snarky? Treating the interrogation subject like he was stupid wasn't any more professional than the shocked and indignant proclamation about his ability to fly. Not to mention there were several points where she sounded on the edge of losing her temper; also a no-no in her line of work.
Not my fault, the Night Fury was determined to punch my buttons. As an excuse, that was pretty lame; she resolved on the spot that if the chief called her on the attitude, she would simply agree to do better and not defend the lapses.
When the recording ended there was silence again for a moment. Then the chief looked at Hiccup. "I notice I didn't hear your voice at any point in that."
Astrid froze. She was done – any minute now the father would break down the son and it would be out that she'd left her partner behind on this one. The case would be taken away, she'd be demoted or suspended…
"Well, of course not," Hiccup replied smoothly. "Astrid wanted to handle the interrogation part herself, seeing as I had no practical experience in the matter and would very likely only manage to anger the Night Fury into incinerating me. Seems I have a way of provoking people."
Astrid wanted to snort. That was an understatement – although it was also a clever way of explaining why he didn't speak in the recording. As long as the next question wasn't…
"There is that," Stoik allowed. Then he glowered at Hiccup again. "I trust you were there, regardless?"
And her luck just couldn't be that good. Here it comes…
"Of course I was; Astrid was in my sight the whole time, and I was ready the whole time with cover fire. Berk City Police Department frowns on its officers going into potentially hostile environments without backup, and I would never let a partner of mine face such a situation alone."
Astrid wanted to gape. Lab rat Hiccup Haddock, the worst liar in the department, had somehow managed to deliver that massive whopper like it was nothing but the truth.
What was going on here?
The chief nodded. "Now then, when was this recording taken?"
Still shell-shocked by the bizarre deviation in an otherwise perfectly straightforward nerd, Astrid fought her attention back to the task at hand. "Um…three…no, four days ago."
"And when were you planning to inform me of this meeting?"
"It was Hiccup's idea to withhold our progress until we'd confirmed for ourselves that the Night Fury's suggestion about handling the other dragons was sound."
Hiccup glared indignantly – and a little fearfully – at Astrid.
What? Don't pretend you weren't already considering that. I'm not unobservant or stupid, and that was pretty much the only reason I suggested it myself. It was strange that he would care so much about the fate of some weredragon, but it was obvious that he did care about this one.
And he wasn't ready to answer the question of why, at least not out loud to anyone else, she realized in the next instant. Quickly, with the intent of forestalling the variation on why does his integrity as an informant matter so much to you, she added, "And with your permission, I should like to continue these meetings with the Night Fury and gather as much information as possible."
The chief had just taken a breath, possibly to ask the unanswerable question; he let it out in a heavy sigh and rubbed his brow again. "Why not? If these meetings turn into regular occurrences, we might be able to trap him at one. And any information that makes these weredragon attacks easier to stop, is good information."
Astrid took a deep breath of her own. "There's just one more thing, Chief…"
"What now?"
"After the time and place for the next meeting was established, he came back for a moment; this isn't on the recording because I'd already turned it off – I thought we were done."
The chief looked sharply at Astrid. "And?"
"I don't know if his senses are as good as he claimed they are or if he was exaggerating for effect, but he basically said that he would notice if the second chat group was bigger than the first and wouldn't come in if it was. It has to be just me…and Hiccup."
He didn't like that, she could tell.
Hiccup cleared his throat. "Might be easier to get his guard down if it's always the exact same face that he's talking to every meeting – building trust, you know."
Astrid nodded. "And if he does have a way of counting heads…if we play the party-size game his way enough times, he'll eventually trust that the party won't get any bigger and stop checking. Then we'd have him."
The chief buried his face in his hands. "Fine…I'll make a note of it. You make a note to tell me when you think we have him. We're done here – get back to work."
Astrid and Hiccup filed out silently. Then, halfway back to their desks…
"That went rather well, actually," Hiccup said softly.
Astrid wanted to deck him, just on principle. "Chief looked dyspeptic, and like he wanted to break something, and you are not going to convince me that he's one-hundred percent behind this idea of yours."
Hiccup shrugged. "He didn't start shouting; we're not suspended, we still have our full salaries, and we're still on the case. Compared to a public dressing-down, that was phenomenal."
Public dressing-down? The memory rose unbidden – several of them – and Astrid flushed slightly. Hiccup had been berated in just that fashion, many times before…before he vanished for that week. Thinking back on the lectures now, she found herself embarrassed for him.
"Listen, there's someone I need to…talk to…for one of my other cases," Astrid began.
Hiccup cocked an eyebrow at her. "How loosely are we defining 'talk to' in this conversation?"
"I've gotten intel from him before; he occasionally does need threatening, when he starts rambling or when the information I want turns out to be on one of his clients, but other than that he's pretty accommodating. Anyway, I'd like to introduce you to him."
Hiccup stared at her for a moment, as though searching for some ulterior motive. Then he shrugged. "Sure. Now?"
"I can call him now, but the info is usually better if we arrange a meeting. He's not sneaky, though he's often…more willing to trust than is necessarily wise, and will preserve the secrecy of people who in retrospect should have been turned in right up front."
A smile touched his lips. "I think I already know of him. Does he run a trading ship?"
"Uh-huh."
"My dear Lady Astrid, surely you are aware of my honor in regards to client confidentiality?"
"Mr. Johann, I know he bought something very large from you." Astrid could feel a headache coming on. It had taken twenty minutes just to get this far.
"If you know, then why ask at all?"
If you delivered it for him, I need to know where; if he picked it up, we need a license number. Look, Savitch has been wanted for assault and armed robbery for the past four months! You're not dumb and you're not that unobservant, so I'm amazed you even let him on your ship!"
Johann waved his hands in what he evidently thought was a calming manner. "Darling, I assure you, I've always been perfectly safe."
Hiccup had been a silent observer up until this point. Now he cleared his throat. "By any chance, did you pay for your 'perfect safety' with a heavy discount?"
Astrid shot Hiccup a warning look.
Johann faltered. "I don't…generally…discuss my business practices…"
"So you did." Hiccup leaned forward slightly, fixing Johann with a level stare. "So you're not getting paid the full amount for your goods, when this Savitch comes around. So, you're being cheated – but you're 'perfectly safe'."
Amazingly, Johann was getting twitchy under the eyes of this thin boy. "Well…erm…"
"I highly doubt you have any decent promise that he won't rob you anyway one of these days, taking back all of his money and cleaning out the last of your goods. Do business with his kind, you always come out the worse in the end."
Astrid watched, fascinated; she hadn't known Hiccup could be that intimidating without so much as raising his voice or pulling his gun out. All he was doing was staring at Johann – and he also suddenly had more presence in the room.
"On the other hand, you don't owe him anything. You tell us how to find Savitch, and we bring him in; then you really will be perfectly safe, and you'll have all your goods to sell at full price. That's a much better deal, isn't it?"
Johann looked pleadingly at Astrid. "All right, all right…I did not deliver this one, and his van had no plates, but he probably took it to the warehouse at the far north end of the harbor. I…overheard his discussion about it, on the phone. Now, if you would please take your scary little partner and go? I must lie down before my next appointment."
Astrid wanted to laugh at the declaration of "scary" – except that would have been rude, and Johann clearly believed it. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Johann."
Hiccup smiled as he stood up. "Pleasure doing business with you."
Johann shuddered.
Not a word passed between the partners until they were back in Hiccup's squad car. Then Astrid eyed Hiccup questioningly.
"Where did you learn your intimidation technique?"
Hiccup paused in the act of turning the key. "Dad."
Astrid snorted. "You're not big enough to pull off the chief's style. Certainly not well enough for anyone to call you scary."
Hiccup shrugged and cranked the key, making the engine roar to life – and smirked a bit. "Funny, that. I wasn't expecting it to work that well, because of my lack of size. Actually, there is a part of Dad's technique I can do: focus. I was a…a fox, hunting a big rabbit. Predator giving prey every scrap of attention. Tell me you wouldn't have been even a little bit nervous under that." He started out into the road.
At least he'd said fox and not wolf or tiger; Astrid would never have been able to take that seriously. She was already smirking just imagining Hiccup as a little brown fox. "What do you do, try to intimidate yourself in the mirror?"
The cruiser suddenly lurched off-course, nearly colliding with another car. The horn terrorized Astrid into silence for about two minutes as Hiccup wrestled back into the center of his lane and adjusted his speed.
"And you complain about my driving!" Astrid finally got out.
Hiccup didn't apologize. Or defend. Or even respond. He kept his eyes fixed on the road and his hands wrapped around the wheel; his face was as pale as his tightly-clenched knuckles.
Scared yourself too, did you? Astrid left him alone for the rest of the drive, instead taking the radio and calling for backup to meet them at the warehouse.
The silence continued between them after they stopped in a side alley near the warehouse and Hiccup radioed in their position. Astrid drummed her nails on the dashboard, contemplating her next move with her partner. Something had gone very wrong, but she wasn't sure what would fix it.
"Anyway," she finally said, "Thanks for reasoning with Johann; and you did a good quick job of it."
Hiccup smiled slightly. Then he spoke to her for the first time in ten minutes. "Mirrors freak me out."
Of all the things Astrid had expected him to say, it wasn't that – although it sounded sincere in spite of being shocking. "That was what…you…but what's wrong with mirrors?"
"Er, well, you know…I avoid looking in mirrors as much as possible because the guy staring back at me could never, ever grow up to equal my dad…and if I used a mirror, I'd have to acknowledge that that guy is me. Does that make sense?"
It did – sort of – but Astrid sensed it wasn't the whole explanation. Somehow, it just didn't seem adequate grounds for causing a near-accident. There wasn't time to press, though, because the rest of the force started radioing in that they were in position to take the warehouse.
Later. Maybe much later.
Astrid filed the mirror question away along with why so intent on recruiting the Night Fury and where did all those scars really come from, and got out of the car. It was showtime.
The police raid on the warehouse had gone without a hitch. They got Savitch and his crew, and an easy three truckloads of weapons. Yet, Astrid still felt like she'd missed something critical.
It must not be that case. It must be her partner. She felt like the reason for his weird behavior was right in front of her face, and she couldn't see it. Being so close to an answer and not being able to face it was maddening.
A lot of the senior officers held that sleeping on a problem like that sometimes worked; that the solution would come to them in a dream, and when they woke up everything made sense. Astrid would love to give that a try, except for one problem: her brain wouldn't shut up long enough to let her sleep. She'd been tossing and turning for the better part of an hour.
Finally giving up, Astrid got out of bed and fetched a notepad. She then proceeded to write down all the odd things about Hiccup that plagued her.
Wants to recruit Night Fury – was sure NF could be recruited before we ever contacted him!
Not all of his scars can be accounted for by that Monstrous Nightmare attack three months ago: too many are new, not enough of them look like they were caused by MN weapons; bar fights?
Strangely large capacity for intimidation on no practice;
Hates mirrors; not because of comparing-self-to-chief – at least not just because of that; why else?
Astrid considered her list for a moment – and suddenly remembered when they'd first given the twins that siren. Tomah had swung his hands to give both of them hearty slaps on the back, and while Astrid had taken the blow in good humor, Hiccup had shied away; Rowan had tried to grab both of them in a big hug, and he'd stepped back to let Astrid take all the love. Neither twin had looked surprised at Hiccup's behavior – for more than a few seconds, anyway – so it wasn't a "he was like that all the time we've known him" thing but it also wasn't a totally new thing. Three months, perhaps?
Dislikes hugs and back-slaps; MN related?
Considering herself done – for now – she looked the list over again. Again, she felt like the answer was right in front of her…like everything on this list was connected together by one crucial detail…but she couldn't, for the life of her, think of what it could be.
"I'm missing something," she finally said aloud.
She hated that: being one fact short of a full case. While she was on the subject, she also hated the "can't see the forest for the trees" feeling. What was she missing?
Coffee was going to be something of a lifeline tomorrow.
Author's note: Cookies for everybody who can guess what "forest" Astrid's not seeing – or more to the point, why exactly she's not seeing it! ^_^
