A/N: Bonus chapter because you have all patiently waited for so long for some vengeance! This chapter gets dark. Hiccup's revenge kicks in and his men take some very questionable and illegal actions on his orders. Trigger warnings!
oOo
THIRTY FOUR: The Wages of Sin
The house was a fine and expensive dwelling, a magnificent six bedroom mansion in an exclusive gated community high above the sleeping town of Berk. The community was secured, monitored and every entrance was videoed and the data cloud-stored but that was little deterrent to a hacker of Gustav's skill. So when night enswathed the community, it was simplicity itself to cut the power, disable the alarms and every security measure and finally pop open the door to allow the shadowy figures to make their way in.
Dagur was in full mask, night vision visor and hood, his similarly anonymous men professional and practiced as they moved through the darkened house. He had a job to do, one he had promised and sworn to do but which made him feel profoundly uncomfortable. Because though the man they were targeting was as evil as they came, their targets weren't. He waved his Berserkers forward and heard the first terrified screams.
oOo
"NOTHING?" Viggo's voice filled his office, his entire body rigid with fury. "There is nothing that I can sue him for?"
His lawyer, a tall thin man with a shock of grey hair and narrow, dark eyes, shifted from foot to foot and stared at the First Minister.
"Tallon Fury was extremely careful in what he said and how he said it," he explained. "He implied but did not in any way accuse you or any specific member of your cabinet or the Council of being behind the attack. All he did was, to generally accused you of neglect to permit the incident to occur."
"He implied that the Council's policies were incompetent," Grimborn fumed, rising and pacing across the office.
"It is a legitimate comment from a man who has been the victim of such an attack," his lawyer, Visian, told him gravely. "It is not a litigable statement!" He paused and considered, trying to gauge the mood of his client. Viggo Grimborn was a ruthless lawyer himself, having made his name as the Public Prosecutor and putting a host of victims away-including one young man on a charge of treason what had made his name. Any defamatory statement was pursued ruthlessly through the courts, suppressing any hint of criticism-because Viggo tolerated scrutiny very poorly. "In fact, the best way to defuse this-and I say this as your friend as well as your lawyer-would be to issue a statement of regret, condemning the attack and vowing to throw your weight behind an investigation into this terrible occurrence."
"I don't regret the attack," Viggo growled. "The man is a stone in my shoe and he needed the reminder that this is not his home. This is my island."
"Actually-this is his legal home," Visian commented quietly, controlling his face with care. "And you have to rise above your annoyance, First Minister. You have to appear at least to have sympathy."
"With this alleged attack," Viggo sneered. "Where is the proof? We only have his word for it…"
"And that of the young women-Zephyr Eretson?" Visian told him in an exasperated voice. "And then there are the bodies…" Pausing by the window, Viggo's eyes narrowed.
"What bodies?" he snapped. "There were no…"
"The statement issued by Dragon's Edge Aero on behalf of Mr Fury details the attack," Visian read. "A secret base on High Plateau Isle was stormed by Mr Fury's personal security detail and all twelve men there were killed. Their bodies were tendered to Central Archipelago Intelligence Services and they will be conducting the investigation." Viggo paused-and then grabbed the nearest chair, screaming in fury as he threw it across his office. Visian scuttled away into a corner as the controlled and icy First Minister rampaged through his office for a few minutes, overturning and wrecking everything. Finally, breathing hard, Viggo glared at his lawyer.
"Find my brother," he hissed. "I need to speak to him now and ascertain how he managed to screw up a simple operation. Then get me every iota of intelligence we have on Fury. I will find every way to discredit him and prevent him from challenging me. And then, it will be time for Mr Tallon Fury to meet an unfortunate accident…"
oOo
A dark SUV with false licence plates glided through the Berkian countryside, heading for the tip of Aching Point, the most Northerly point on the Berkian mainland. The message had told him to come alone and with the proofs they had offered, he had not dared to deviate from their orders by a millimetre. Finally, he pulled to a halt and walked out, leaving the headlamps illuminated to light the rocky path to the promontory. The night was cloudy and smelled of rain and the restless sounds of the ocean were muffled far below. And then he waited.
It was eleven minutes before his contacts arrived, four men with machine guns covering him emerging from the darkness, their faces covered with masks and night vision visors. Slowly, he raised his hands, his buff shape careful not to make any sudden moves.
"Hands behind your back," a man said, his voice altered by the mask. Still staring out to sea, he complied, she yes fixed on the cloudy horizon.
"Are they safe?" he asked.
"You will find out soon enough," the armed man said.
"Are they safe?" he repeated, his gruff voice angry.
"You will see them soon enough," the armed man repeated, snapping cuffs around his wrists.
"You have me," he said. "They're innocent. Let them go."
"We have you but we need your cooperation," the armed man said as two of his fellows grasped the man's arms. He was hauled back as a chopper approached and landed. "And they will ensure that." He struggled then, too late to make any use. He was swept for trackers and three were removed, along with the gun he had concealed in the top of his boot and the knife in his other boot. All were tossed over the cliffs. He struggled furiously as he was forced into the aircraft.
"No!" he roared, fighting. A gun creased his forehead and he slumped, being hauled into his seat and secured. Sitting in the chopper, as masked and anonymous as his men, Dagur narrowed his eyes.
"What happens now depends on you," he murmured. "Which part of your family are you more loyal to?"
oOo
"I and the entire Island Council are appalled by the terrible attack on Mr Fury that has dominated our local news for the last few days," Viggo announced. He was facing the cameras of Archipelago News-Eye on Berk and looked uncomfortable. Usually, his appearances were carefully choreographed photo opportunities or him making a decree from his (now wrecked) office. Yet he had been wrong-footed by Fury and the fact that he couldn't locate Ryker and find out what the Helheim had gone wrong with the…encounter…mean that he was at a serious disadvantage. And unusually, he was scrabbling to catch up with events, rather than shaping them. Thor, he knew that the words sounded wooden and disinterested but there was nothing he could do to add any compassion because he felt none.
Tallon Fury deserved what had happened to him. Every single wound and bruise. Viggo was only sorry that he hadn't been able to witness the beating of a man who was quietly doing everything to undo Viggo's subtle dictatorship and the dependency of the idiot citizens of Berk on their First Minister.
"I have carved my reputation by being tough on criminals and on criminality," he continued, his fist clenched on his lap, so hard that his knuckles were white against the skin. "And I am appalled that a man can be snatched from his home and treated so poorly by a bunch of craven thugs! These men were not under my control-nor did they act in my name. And I will do everything in my power to ensure that these miscreants are brought to justice."
In a pig's eye. Though I need to speak to my brother to find out what the Helheim happened and how we can spin this to our advantage.
"I offer Mr Fury my condolences and assurances that I will find out who did this and that no one who threatens the security of Berk will get away with it. That is all. I am not taking questions."
oOo
"Real sincere," Heather commented, tossing the remote over to Hiccup. The man was lounging in his recliner chair in the sitting room, the news anchor turning to her 'expert' to analyse the statement for the benefit of the viewers. He nodded, narrowing his eyes.
"The last statement was definitely for me, though," he commented. "No one who threatens the security of Berk will get away with it."
"He's a dangerous enemy," Fishlegs reminded him, biting into his burger. Heather had been cooking, meaning the food was excellent and the rest of the gang merely nodded, mouths full of the excellent fare. Tuff had managed to get salsa smeared on his cheek and his sister was licking melted blue Berserker cheese from her fingers.
"He still doesn't know about D," she commented.
"But he is aware that the bodies of his brother's gang are with CAIS and Special Investigator Throk," Fishlegs reminded her. Ruff adopted a far-away look.
"Hmm…Throkster…what a dreamy hunk of intelligence…"
"Honey!" Fishlegs' voice was hurt but Ruff immediately threw a gherkin at her boyfriend.
"Fishy, my husky hunk-you know I love you to pieces but occasionally I do enjoy window shopping," she chuckled wickedly. The solid lawyer gave a sigh and managed a watery smile. He knew he was easy to tease because he loved her dearly-though he knew she was fiercely loyal and just as devoted to him "Even though I am never going to buy."
"And I am never going to approve anyone else," Tuff mumbled. "Took almost ten years for you to meet the Tuffnut seal of approval…"
"Though you approved of Ingen within weeks when he saved you from ending up barbecued in a volcano," Fishlegs pointed out. Tuff gave a cheesy smile.
"Ingen is exceptional-and made it clear he wasn't interested, except as a friend," he added.
"Well, in my defence, I wasn't-and still aren't-looking for romantic entanglements," he commented honestly, flicking through the channels. "My heart had taken enough of a battering…" There was silence as he looked up to see Ruff staring at him. "And you were more of a sister and friend than a romantic interest ever," he added hastily. Ruff chuckled, seeing him flustered.
"Gets him every time," she sniggered as he eyes trailed treacherously over to Heather, who had stopped chewing at Hiccup's words. She paused and then continued until she swallowed her mouthful.
"Yet you had coffee with Astrid Hofferson," she commented levelly though he could hear the anger edging her voice. Sighing, Hiccup rested the remote down.
"She wanted to speak-to thank me for protecting her daughter and ask me for a favour," he revealed carefully.
"What favour?" Heather asked, her eyes sparkling with anger. Hiccup sighed.
"To keep an eye on her daughter-because she doesn't trust her husband," he said after carefully editing his response. Heather snorted.
"And why is it your concern?" she snapped.
"Because I was asked as a friend," he replied tersely, sitting up straighter.
"She isn't your friend," Heather told him brutally as he abruptly rose to his feet.
She used to be. And there's a part of me that really wants to be again-but I know it's too late.
"I need to speak to Dagur," he said shortly. "I'll see you later."
As he left, the twins shared a look and then glanced over at Heather, who was glowering. The atmosphere had changed and they wondered if the woman even realised how jealous she appeared of the blonde woman who Ingen had included in his vengeance. And every time they interacted-which was inevitable-Heather grew more agitated. Snotlout sighed and wiped his mouth.
"You will only push him away quicker if you try that," he said simply. Glaring, she turned on him.
"How would you know?' she spat. "He knows how I feel. He knows I love him. And he will realise that I am the best thing for him, the one person who will never betray him, never hurt him…"
"Never listen to him," Ruff interrupted. "He's not interested, Heather. He's just said that."
"And he was wrong," she snapped. "He knows how I feel and he's never shown me anything but love and affection. He's never told me he didn't love me." The others shared a look: they had heard him say the phrase several times. Eventually, Fishlegs cleared his throat.
"Give him the space he needs," he advised her. "He's mired right in the middle of his endgame now. Viggo and Ryker threatened us all by name. He can't allow himself to feel anything because what he is doing will ruin these men-and their families and dependents. He has to focus because if he doesn't, it may all come crashing down. And his entire life is his revenge."
Heather's eyes were stricken and she chewed her lip-but then she slowly nodded.
"Okay," she sighed. "I will wait. But when it's over, when he has nothing left, I will still be here. I love him and I know…that one day, he will realise that he loves me." Snotlout exhaled in relief. They had brought his cousin some breathing space but all of them knew that Hiccup didn't feel the same about the woman. And none of them wanted to be there when he finally had to shatter her hopes.
oOo
He didn't know where he was as they dragged the bag from his head. He had been taken off island again and his brilliantly lit surroundings offered little in the way of clues to his location. He was seated at a trestle table on a metal chair that was bolted to the floor. Opposite him sat a man who was buff and relaxed, his cropped carrot-red hair and green eyes unfamiliar though there were scars and tattoos on his face. He wore the same camouflage uniform as his captors.
"Ryker Kilian Grimborn," the man said, his green eyes now cold as chunks of ice. "You understand why we have brought you here?" Ryker sat back, his broad face arranged in an expression of smug annoyance.
"No," he growled. "You really must have a death wish."
"I could say the same for you," Dagur told him grimly. "From the moment you laid hands on my brother, you and everything you care for…were dead." Ryker sat back and gave a rumbling laugh.
"I don't care who you think of as your…" he began but Dagur leaned forward, his face suddenly contorted with rage as he slammed his palms on the table.
"You harmed Tallon Fury," he shouted. "My brother. So now I repay your assault."
"I don't scare," Ryker sneered. "I am a servant of Drago Bludvist. My brother is First Minister of Berk. I have the Archipelago Trade Minister on speed dial…"
"And yet…none of that is of any value or relevance," Dagur told him simply. "They can't help you now."
"My men…"
"Are in freezers in Dragon Isle in the morgue of the CAIS HQ," Dagur told him. "When we rescued Fury, we slaughtered every one. His blood carries a very high price. One that you have yet to pay." Ryker blinked, dumbstruck for a second before he folded his arms and gave a mocking smile. But just as swiftly, Dagur sat back with a broad grin. "By the way-thanks for the confession."
"I made no confession," Ryker growled.
"I am a servant of Drago Bludvist, I believe you claimed. In fact it was the first thing you claimed. Not a great admission since he's a traitor, convicted and sentenced to death in absentia for crimes against humanity. If I were an agent of the law I would be unimpressed. As a merc, I'm even less so. But it makes what happens next easier." Ryker lurched forward in his chair.
"You have no…"
"Idea?" Dagur asked him, his mouth turned up in a small smile. "No, I suppose not. After all, I don't kidnap people for money, I don't execute them for money, I don't break bones and terrorise families and rape wives and children to punish those who have offended my master." His voice was arctic again. "How could I have any idea about the filth that lurks in your soul?"
"I will see you dead," Ryker spat as Dagur reached beside him and pulled out a brown envelope. Carefully, he pulled out extremely crisp long range photographs date and time stamped. They showed Ryker and Viggo clambering aboard a Night Fury Transport NF-100, the registration number clearly visible on the fuselage. Then he slid a print-out of the transponder data for the aircraft…and then the tracker data from the factory-fitted Dragon's Edge Aero tracker. The visit to Icefell was clearly showed. The return picture was also displayed.
"You may not be granted that chance," Dagur said. "These prove that you have been visiting Icefall-with your brother, the First Minister of Berk. Visiting that location is illegal, punishable by life imprisonment for treason. In fact, your brother made his reputation doing just that, I believe. Sent some poor bugger who visited Icefell to Jotunheim. Met the bastard when I was a guard there-before he died."
"You can't prove anything," Ryker insisted. Dagur chuckled and gestured to the images.
"I have another dozen episodes with full telemetry showing that flights you boarded flew non-stop to Drago, that you violated international law to support a terrorist, a traitor, a man who is a palpable threat to everyone's freedom, security and safety." He smiled. "You cannot refute these. And for these alone, you should be condemned." And then he reached below his chair for another dossier.
"What further fantasies are you peddling?" Ryker scorned. Dagur gave a smile but there was absolutely no warmth in it. He tossed the dossier onto the table hitting with a thud.
"You know, you think that you have been diligent, careful, clean," he said. "You believed you have sanitised all your jobs-but that is a lie. All it takes is more digging, more resources and more patience. Because you didn't kill everyone. There were witnesses. Witnesses who believed there was no recourse, no safety, no hope…because your brother ran Berk." Dagur riffled through the dossier and slowly took out photographs, showing a variety of faces-some scarred by fire or knives or just plain terror-but all of them vaguely familiar to the older Grimborn
"You're fishing," Ryker scoffed.
"Leo Rasmussen-his family was shaken down. Tiril Dale-watched her family killed by your boys. Egil Ulricson. Survived an arson attack that killed his father and the rest of his family, a prominent critic of First Minister Grimborn. Lucas Fenrir. Survived a car bomb that wiped out his family-including his mother, who was suing your brother for dropping charges against the men who raped her. Ella-Marit Stromsted who was pitched into the sea after being raped and watching her family murdered for challenging Grimborn for the First Minister post. Raquel Thorston who saw her family home torched and her father and uncles shot by your men. Tyrone Thorston who saw his family home torched and his father and uncles shot by your men. Hildegaard Gruntsnort who…"
"All liars who will be discredited in court by my legal team," Ryker said smugly.
"No," Dagur told him.
"No?" Ryker sneered. Dagur gave a thin smile.
"There won't be a trial," he said. "You are going to plead guilty. You will admit your crimes. There will be no witnesses, no cross-examination, no mitigation. You will put your hands up and face justice without a single complaint." Ryker burst out laughing.
"And why would I ever do that?" Ryker growled. Sitting back, Dagur gave a small, defeated sigh.
"I really hoped it wouldn't come to this," he said, shaking his head, then waved a hand. A window opened in the wall and Ryker's dark eyes widened with horror and hatred. Three shapes were flanked by the masked and armoured men, machine guns jabbing into the prisoners. Hessian bags were ripped from their head to reveal to sight of his wife, Linda and his daughters Kristin and Nina, in their nightwear, all looking grubby, tear-stained and pale with fear.
"LINDA!" Ryker yelled and tried to rise-but the shackles around his ankles held him in place at his chair. "It's okay-I will right this and then these men will die for daring to…."
"Daring to what?" Dagur spat, his green eyes suddenly flat and face twisted in an ugly leer. "All I and my men have done is what you and your team do on a weekly basis: kidnap, terrorise, beat up, rape, murder. Steal peace of mind. Steal freedom. Steal every sense of safety and hope of justice. All we have done is become…you."
Ryker was trembling with fury and rage, his entire being inflamed with the desire to lunge forward and squeeze the life from the man facing him…but the tiny kernel of him that was the husband, the father, the family man who compartmentalised the horrors he perpetrated on a daily basis, was clawing at his righteous anger because all it would do would do is risk the things he loved above all.
Family before all.
"Not enough for you?" Dagur growled, his eyes still deadly. He gestured and one of his men lunged forward, a large knife pressed against Linda Grimborn's neck. her eyes widened, tears spilling down her pallid cheeks. Her dark brown hair was festooned, moving slightly as she trembled and her lips parted in a futile prayer.
"Please…" she whispered. "Please don't kill me…" Dagur glanced up at the man-Snorri, his most loyal and dependable man-and hoped he was making the right decision. He nodded and the knife moved slightly, blood starting to edge the blade.
"NO!" Ryker shouted, his arm flung out, fingers splayed in desperation. "STOP! Please…don't hurt her…" He sagged back, his head dropped forward. Dagur nodded sharply, though Snorri had already paused. The mercenary could already see the discomfort in his friend's eyes: Snorri was the only man he would even consider asking to help because his men, though mercenaries, despised those who targeted the weak and the innocent. They had all argued against this plan and only Dagur's personal capitol with his men had persuaded them to co-operate with the scheme.
"Then you will do what you are commanded?" Dagur growled. Slowly, Ryker nodded.
"What do you want?" he growled.
"Full confession all the deaths, kidnappings, injuries and threats you have committed," Dagur said. "Confession to treason and all the contacts you have had with Drago including what you know of any and all forthcoming plans. You will confess what was in the suitcase you had taken to Icefell, that caused that innocent man to be condemned to die in Jotunheim for treason seventeen years ago. And you will detail all your dealings with your brother, Minister Trayder, Eretson and Drago."
Ryker paused.
"I'm signing my own death warrant if I give you that," he said slowly.
"And your family is dead now if you don't," Dagur told him. Then he paused. "Or maybe not. Maybe we will kill one and then…well, we can let you listen. Maybe you can persuade yourself that it's better that they die from what my men do to them than allow them to be smuggled away and given a new identity…"
Slowly, Ryker looked up.
"You will pay for your crimes but once you have co-operated, your wife and daughters will be removed from the Archipelago and given new lives," Dagur told him flatly. "You will never see them again-but Drago and his allies will never find them either. So you have the choice. You will be convicted anyway-but do you want them to suffer and die or live free?" Then he leaned forward slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Of course, if you fail to co-operate or advance us bogus information, then we will bring them back…and ensure that Drago and Trayder know where they are…" The threat was implicit. For a long moment, Ryker glared at him with naked hatred before he bowed his head.
"I wish I could have two minutes with you," he breathed, his voice redolent with loathing. "I would snap your neck and rend you limb from limb."
"You can imagine you would if it helps," Dagur told him pityingly. "But I would disable you before you got close-and then you would watch your family die before you finally joined them." Ryker stared, breathing hard for a long moment, his face suffused and the mercenary wondered if he would truly follow through. Then he sagged.
"Treat them well," he breathed. "Please."
Dagur waved and the window became opaque. He knew behind there, Snorri and the men would be comforting the women and handing them over to psychologists and support staff before they were put into the witness protection programme. He pressed his lips together momentarily and then nodded, rapping his knuckles on the table. The door behind him opened and two of his men entered, accompanying agents from CAIS and recorders. They set up the cameras and recording devices and then took Dagur's place at the table to begin the interrogation and take Ryker's confession. Behind them, hovering just outside the door, he knew Throk was waiting, ready to take him to task over the tactics.
President Wing was a moral woman-but pragmatic and she had accepted Tallon Fury's offer to bring Ryker Grimborn in. Dagur wasn't sure of the tactics he had agreed to employ-they made even him uncomfortable and he had fought in some of the dirtiest wars-but they had worked as well as expected. The justice of the method was undeniable for it was exactly what Ryker had done to others for years-and he had gotten off lightly, for he and his family were all alive and unmaimed. Though the women would probably require extensive counselling to come to terms with the psychological trauma they had suffered-just as they had innocently (or not?) enjoyed the wages of his sins. And underlying all this was the plain truth was that the Government was losing. Drago and his allies were almost at the tipping point where their influence would exceed that of the President herself.
"You have to fight fire with fire," Fury had said to her when he proposed his plan. "And I am willing to use the flames. Your hands will be clean. My men will do what has to be done. No one will be harmed. No one will die. And you will have a criminal who confesses and will not oppose his conviction-ever, safe in the knowledge that his family is safe."
"You must not kill them," Mala Wing reminded him. "You gave me your word that they would not be harmed.
"They will be frightened but all will be alive," Fury told her plainly. "And one major player will be gone." The President looked at him appraisingly.
"You will do this anyway," she realised. He had nodded.
"I would rather gain intelligence you can use to help gain something positive from this messy disposal but I am prepared to end him without."
"Then proceed within my parameters, Tallon Fury," the President had said slowly, running her hands over her face. "What a world this is, that such means justify the ends." Fury sighed.
"Madame President, I am prepared to claim my own sins and pay my own penance when the time comes-because sometimes the end has to come, no matter how," he said.
Dagur turned back and walked slowly to Ryker, who was watching him closely. He leaned closer to whisper in the man's ear before he left.
"By the way, Tallon Fury says…goodbye."