The Gentle Sniper
Chapter 33: Some well deserved R&R Part One
A/N: So on a recent perusal of the Jægerkorpset Wikipedia page, I found that rotary-wing aircraft are one type of vehicle they learn to use for infiltration purposes.
Meaning Hiccup shouldn't have been surprised at Bekker being a helicopter pilot, as he is effectively one as well.
Oops.
Uh, disregard any previous indication of Hiccup not being trained to fly helicopters.
Similarly, all of Hiccup's Jægerkorpset colleagues would know marksmanship and sniping, as they are taught these skills, among various other abilities.
Once again folks… Oops.
Let's hope I don't make mistakes of this magnitude again…
Review Responses
CajunBear73: Gonna have to wait a little longer for payback to really be carried out, on Hiccup's end. That will come next chapter.
Scrumblenut: May your curiosity regarding Bekker be satisfied in this chapter. And yeah, your idea regarding Drago was much better than mine.
…
Bekker awoke to the nearly inaudible sound of typing, and someone singing quietly to himself.
"I'll swim and sail on savage seas… with never a fear of drowning…"
The guy stopped singing but continued typing, as Bekker rolled over to identify the singer. Her eyes widened a little in surprise at spotting Hiccup, sitting up in the lower half of a bunk across the room, with Kai lying in the top section, her eyes open but not moving a muscle, seemingly listening to Hiccup just as Bekker herself had been.
Bekker quietly rolled onto her back as she had before, just in time to hear Hiccup resume singing.
"And gladly ride the waves of life… if you would marry me…"
So the Fishman has a good singing voice? Who knew?
"I know you're awake, Bekker. I saw you turn over."
Bekker faced him then. "Morning."
"Morning. Just texting my girlfriend, for when she wakes up."
Bekker blinked. "Wasn't going to ask…?"
"I know, but after leaving so abruptly yesterday, I felt you deserved to know something about me."
Bekker smiled. "The fact that you're a good singer is enough," For now at least. I'll find out where you went, eventually.
"I'm a good singer?" The doubt was audible in his voice.
She shrugged. "Maybe not a professional singer, but better than I imagined. That was your cue to keep singing by the way."
His lips twisted into a lopsided smile. "No."
"Aww, no fair," Bekker whined, with mock seriousness. "Well then, let's wake up the others. Kai, stop pretending you're asleep up there."
"Sellout!" Kai retorted, startling Hiccup into glancing upwards.
"How uh… how long have you been awake?"
"Since before you started singing, fishman. Like Bekker said, you're fairly melodious."
His lips morphed into something between a smile and a puzzled expression. "Thank you…?"
"Anytime, babe," said Kai.
Now Hiccup smiled for real, still gazing up at the bunk above his head. "We're not on that level quite yet."
"We are now," came her reply, prompting laughter from Bekker and Hiccup.
"What song was that anyways, Haddock?" inquired Bekker.
"It was my mother's wedding song. My parents and I used to watch old videos of that."
"Do they both still live?" Bekker continued. "We've met your mother, what about your father?"
"Yeah, they're both still around. I've got some pictures of my dad, but you might not believe we're related. He's a good deal bigger than me," said Hiccup, before unlocking and tossing Bekker his phone.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Wow, Haddock. You sure know how to pick them. This girl is certainly a looker in the chest department."
"I gotta see this," said Kai, descending the ladder on the side of her bunk and sauntering over as Hiccup replied. "Firstly, why are you focusing on my girlfriend. Secondly, you said 'looker'. Are you bi?"
"Is there a problem?"
"Nope. There are three people I know who are gay. Well two, really. The third is a hunch. But you're the only person I know who is bi. Join the club, friend."
Bekker smirked. "So you have no problem with me focusing on Astrid here, then. Alright."
"That's not what I meant and you know it," He held out his left palm. "I'd like my phone back now, if you're just going to focus on Astrid."
Bekker tossed the device to Kai, then stood up, as both she and Kai danced out of range. "Come and get it Haddock," Bekker chirped from beside Kai upon reaching the foot of her bunk.
Hiccup simply shrugged. "Keep it. I'll get it later. What time is it right now anyway? We're leaving for Copenhagen at 0700 hours."
"It's 0545 hours right now," reported Kai. "We should probably wake the others up, so we're early."
"Not it!"
"Not it!"
"Not it! Fuck!"
"Suck it up, ketchup top."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm on it, Fishman."
…
Around two hours later, in an unmarked VW Transporter van that one could find in the parking bay of Copenhagen Airport, there was a group of eleven individuals.
Nobody was in the mood for talking at the current moment. Rather, everyone was all business; loading their MP5's and USP9's, strapping on webbing and obscuring their faces with urban camo face paint and the signature Jaeger Corps veil from within the back compartment of the van.
"After we're done here, does anyone want something from duty free? I'll pay," said Lam, when he finished up, prompting conversation as the rest of the group finished preparing themselves.
"Yes sir," said Loft. "It can serve as a parting gift for each of us, since I imagine most of us won't see each other again after today. By which I mean the Fishman, exclusively."
"Berk isn't that far from Aalborg you know. It's like an hour and a half away by road and ferry. Half an hour by helicopter. You can easily apply for leave and come visit."
"In that case, I expect you to give us a tour," said Bekker.
"Maybe I will. But anyway; have any of you people ever had to tell someone you care about a mission? One of those ones that didn't actually happen?"
"What do you mean?"
"Missions of a 'black ink' nature."
"Ah. Right. I've done one of those before," said Bekker. "So has Loft, since she was there."
Hiccup blinked. "Really? You two have?" Bekker and Loft nodded. "Who else here has?"
Lam, Kai, Magnussen and Dall each raised their hands. "Right, so that's all the girls then. Guess us guys should start watching our backs," Hiccup joked.
"Damn straight," said Bekker, and there was mild laughter throughout the back compartment of the van.
Hiccup glanced at the step ladders, sledgehammers and other equipment that lined the walls of the van before continuing to speak. "I'm sure you're curious as to where I went yesterday. After we're done, I'll tell you all about that."
"Good," said Bekker, rolling her shoulders as she exhaled. "Can't wait for that."
Lam eyed both of them for a moment, then slowly nodded, slapping his hands down on his thighs. "Alright, if we're done talking, let's get this van unloaded, shall we?"
"Yes sir!" Everyone chorused, then filed out of the van.
"Still overcast huh. I still think it'll rain soon," said Axelsen, his gaze cast skyward while squinting to avoid the glare of the flashing blue police lights that shone from further down the street.
"Let's hope it starts raining only after we're done here," muttered Gad.
"Agreed. Would hate to have this makeup get watery and ruin my looks," said Kai, before shuddering.
"Trust me," Magnussen began as he emerged from behind Kai. "You always look nice."
"Get a room, you two," said Dall, who was next to exit the van. "Or better yet, shut up and get to work."
"Yes, mum," drawled Kai, eliciting a snort from Magnussen, Hiccup and Bekker, who were in earshot behind Dall, while Dall gave a fond eyeroll.
"You heard the group's mother. Let's get to work," responded Axelsen.
Conversation stopped then, and the group formed a line to the van, as Pihl picked up one of the step ladders and passed it to Lam, who passed it to Loft, and so on until the van was empty of all its equipment.
"We're just about ready now. Tell your people to send the bus along to the embassy," said Lam to the DDIS agent in the driver seat of the van.
"Alright," replied the man, lowering his head to speak into the radio attached to his coat lapel. "EM1, this is CA1. Send the bus to the embassy, over."
"Roger that, CA1, sending it over. Standby."
"Copy that, EM1. CA1 out."
Meanwhile, Lam was addressing the group. "I want everyone to be on both sides of the road, ready to move in when the bus arrives. The bus can only reach the airport by using this road as you know, and it will likely break through the police blockade set up down there before it ends up in our area, so get ready for that."
"Yes sir," came the reply.
Hefting a stepladder, Hiccup looked to Bekker as everyone got in position. "So uh, was your boyfriend blonde? I'm curious."
"Absolute perfect timing for this, Haddock," Bekker drawled.
"Well soon we'll all be busy, so I decided to ask now. Deal with it, ketchup top."
"Fine," she huffed, trying to sound annoyed, but Hiccup could hear the smile in her voice. "He had dirty blonde hair; so a darker shade than your divine beauty," her voice tapered off as she quietly added, "Or as attractive."
"Hey, it's not good to speak ill of the dead," said Hiccup, smiling behind the veil he was wearing as her eyes quickly darted to him, while he suspected she was blushing behind her own veil.
She then glanced cautiously around, but it seemed nobody was paying them attention or had heard what they were talking about. Her shoulders sagged as she turned to look at him. "Ah, heh… you heard me?"
He nodded. "Mhm. Don't worry, I'll be sure to let my girlfriend know she has an admirer."
Hiccup had the feeling that she was blushing harder now, and as a result, held in a fit of laughter by a mere hair's breadth.
Her gaze sharpened at him, behind her veil. "Hush you. We've got equipment to move, so shift your carcass. Also, you tell anyone besides Astrid that I find her attractive, and I will find you and remove your entrails."
Hiccup raised the stepladder in his arms to shoulder height, then snarkily saluted Bekker. "Yes ma'am."
…
"Alright, everyone on the bus. Move!" Krogan ordered, waving his USP9 at the group and the mode of transport that was on his left.
The group trickled through the door and past Krogan, with Mildew bringing up the rear and Grimmel standing with an MP5 at the ready behind Krogan, with an HK417 sniper rifle strapped to his back as he performed the task of keeping an eye on the assembled police officers in the vicinity.
But the group was soon aboard, leaving the trio to climb on in turn, and then they were away, passing the police on site who parted ways for the large vehicle, then reaching the nearest street and starting their journey in earnest.
Sometime later, the bus arrived at the airport, with Krogan speeding up as he drove through a police blockade of two Mercedes-Benz Vito vans, with the officers opening fire at the lower half of the windscreen.
"Grimmel! Mildew! Get your guns ready! We've got company!" the man shouted back, cracks forming a web on the glass in front of him.
It was then that Krogan cursed loudly, spotting a police officer throw out a tire strip when it was too late for the bus to avoid it.
Slamming hard on the brakes, the wheels and tires screeched in protest as the vehicle began to slow; stopping some thirty seconds later with a large shudder, the police and tire strip a fair distance behind the large vehicle.
Mildew and Grimmel joined Krogan at the front of the bus, USP9's at the ready as Krogan brought his own gun to bear. "So," began Mildew. "What to deal with first? Hostages, or the police?"
But there was little time for the hostage-takers to say, think or do anything else, as barely ten seconds later, as much as six of the windows on the bus's left side, shattered under the attention of sledgehammers.
Then, there was a collective thud as step-ladders were used, a Jaeger Corps operative ascending to the top of each and covering the remains of the window directly in front of them with an MP5 submachine gun.
Then the front door was torn open and Magnussen, Kai and Hiccup burst in, in that order.
"DROP YOUR GUNS! ON YOUR KNEES, ALL THREE OF YOU! NOW!"
The jig was up.
All three sighed in defeat and surrendered.
They had lost.
The trio was then restrained and disarmed, allowing for the hostages to exit the bus unharmed, which they did without prompting.
Later, a police Mercedes-Benz Sprinter van arrived for the hostages while Mildew, Krogan and Grimmel, after being searched for any concealed weapons and coming up empty, were stuffed into the waiting VW Transporter van, along with Lam and Loft, who acted as their guards.
After the van left to unload the three detainees into the C-130J; the cargo plane the team had arrived in, it returned for the rest of said team and their equipment.
"Time to explain what you were up to yesterday, Fishman," chirped Bekker, once everyone was seated in the cargo hold.
Hiccup glanced over at the three guests. "Not yet. I'll tell you all once this bird is airborne."
"Alright. But no later, Fishman," she conceded, pointing two fingers at her eyes then at him in the infamous gesture.
"You got it," After saying this, Hiccup fished out his phone.
'Care to investigate how three men, without access to any army armoury, were able to collect the same guns that the army uses? Mildew went rogue/AWOL, so would be arrested upon setting foot in any army base, and while they could collect USP9's for personal defence, would be unable to obtain an HK417 sniper rifle, unless in good standing as soldiers, which none of them are. Get back to me on this whenever you can, Fishlegs. Likely to be connected to Ol' Kasper though.'
Sending this text, Hiccup began typing anew.
'So I applaud your timing on that picture you sent me, milady. Damn near made your mother see it. Don't do that again out of the blue, for that exact reason. Though I guess that's why you sent it via email, right? Also, you've got a female admirer who just happened to see the picture."
Over in Berk, Astrid was in her room, in the process of strapping her service pistol and its holster to her hip when her phone vibrated in her back pocket. Pulling it out, she scanned the text she had received, then laughed to herself. I do, huh?
She responded as follows. 'I'd like to meet this admirer. Arrange a meeting, Hiccup.'
Hiccup's reply was near-instantaneous. 'As milady wishes. For the record, this is the first friend of mine who likes cakes and slabs of meat. I personally am quite fond of the lemon meringue variety.'
Astrid paused for a moment, then snorted and typed a response. 'So what slab of meat are you? Beef, Pork? Chicken?'
'No idea. I'll let you decide, milady. Gotta go now though. Catch you later.'
'Alright then, mutton chop,' she typed, then snorted again. 'See you later.'
"Alright," began Hiccup, turning off and pocketing his phone while the plane began to taxi for take-off. "I'll tell you what I did yesterday before we take off, because why not."
Bekker leaned forward in her chair. "Go on," she prompted.
"So yesterday, I went to talk with a certain man. A man, who just so happens to be their boss," Hiccup jerked his head at Mildew, Krogan and Grimmel, prompting the others present to glance at them in turn.
"Alright," Bekker nodded. "Continue Fishman."
Hiccup shook his head. "Impatient much? Anyway, their boss's name is Drago Bludvist, and I am unfortunate enough to have history with him. I hope that's enough for you all, as that's all you're getting. I want to put the whole thing behind me, so I'm not going to say more than that."
Bekker sighed. "Aww-"
"We meet again, maggot," a grating voice muttered, which upon Hiccup identifying who had spoken, resulted in his hands clenching into fists as they rested in his lap.
Hiccup glanced away from Bekker to his right, where he frowned, then looked to his left, gazing at Lam, who sat at the end of the cargo hold of the plane, on the side opposite Hiccup. "Lam, you wouldn't happen to have three suitable gags handy, would you? Or a pair of boxing gloves. Hel, I'll settle for any kind of gloves. I have to deal with my drill sergeant there."
"Hey, don't rope me into this," Lam protested, for he had his eyes closed. "I would like to get some sleep to compensate for the other day."
"Alright then. I'll just have to ignore my former drill sergeant."
"He's your drill sergeant?" was the echoed question
"He is, yes," said Hiccup. "I'm not going to say more."
"Bad memories? Is that why you're not going to say more about them or this Drago guy?" wondered Bekker.
"That's exactly right, Bekker," Hiccup sighed, then turned and gestured at Mildew. "Someone please shut him up, before he speaks again and I get tempted to throw him out of the plane, or kill him."
Magnussen, who was sat closest to the three, obliged, punching Mildew's lights out, followed by Krogan and Grimmel.
"Thank you Magnussen. I owe you one."
The man inclined his head, respectfully. "No worries, Haddock."
"You know what? When we land in Aalborg, drinks are on me, because I'm suddenly feeling very generous."
"Now we owe the Fishman. Oh, the horror," Loft teased with a smile.
"Such cruel words," he said, theatrically, with a hand over his heart, before returning it to his lap. "If you want, I can take back my offer."
"She doesn't speak for me, Haddock. I'm more than happy to accept your offer," Dall interjected.
"Good. I shall giveth you booze, former bunkmate Dall, just as soon as we land in Aalborg. Is the 'Watering Hole' still around?"
Dall's eyes lit up. "You know it? Can we be friends?"
Hiccup laughed. "Sure thing. Friendship for all."
…
A large white space, and a man sitting at a round table, furnished with a computer, monitor and gaming chair, typing away at a keyboard.
Cami paused and looked down, finding she was wearing a white hospital gown, but couldn't see her feet.
"Uh, hello?" she called, gazing at the nameless man. "Where am I? Why don't I have feet?"
"Greetings, Camicazi Berthadottir. You're in a coma hallucination. That's why you don't have feet," said the man without looking away from the monitor. "Take a seat."
A wooden chair appeared out of thin air, a metre and a half behind the man's own gaming chair and table.
Cami blinked at it and sat down. "O-kay… can you get hallucinations while in a coma?"
"Sometimes, as a side effect, if it's a medically induced coma, like it is in your case."
"Okay… you mind not typing all the time, and maybe looking at me?"
"Can't. I'm writing this scene out as we speak."
"What?"
"I'm the author, that's what."
"Author? Author of what?"
"Of your story. And Henry's, and Fred's, and the story of Astrid Valerie Hofferson - basically everyone you know and will ever know."
Cami blinked again. "Everyone? Alright, prove it. Who will I end up with?"
"To be determined. When I decide who you'll date however, I'll let you know. Or rather, my clone will let you know."
"Clone?"
The man turned and looked at Cami, and a moment later, it clicked. "You're that delivery guy!" she exclaimed. "The one who said he didn't know Hiccup!"
The man chuckled. "Yes, well I lied. I am capable of that, despite what it may seem."
"So what else can you tell me?" Cami questioned, as the man turned back around and resumed typing.
"Depends. What would you like to know?"
"How about you tell me what's going on in Berk right now? Just anything."
"Okay. Well, your mother is using her break time to visit you at the hospital, as well as your colleague, Anne."
"Well it's nice to know Anne cares. Will I wake up soon?"
"In due time, I'm sure. Much like whoever you'll end up dating, I can't say anything on when you'll regain consciousness."
"Fair enough," nodded Cami. "What's Hiccup up to, right now?"
"He's on a flight from Copenhagen to Aalborg which is due to land in around twenty minutes as we speak. He helped deal with a hostage situation caused by Drago's lackeys if that interests you."
"Mildly," Cami swung her legs forward, before remembering she currently had none. "Still can't believe you know all about us. I'd like some more proof. Tell me something about me."
"You had a brother, named Ben. He was killed and his body was burned to ashes during a police shootout. This happened in 2011, when you were twenty and he was eighteen."
Cami sighed deeply and brought a hand to wipe at her eyes. "You really are the author, aren't you? You haven't met or spoken to Hiccup since I ended up in this coma, have you?"
The man turned in his chair again and quirked an eyebrow at her. "You are aware that everyone in this story is under my control, since I'm the author? That's usually how it goes and all…"
"Not exactly something one wants to think about…"
He shrugged. "Fair enough. Circling back to you though. Let's talk about your dating life. If you were to find the perfect guy - besides Hiccup of course - how long do you think you and he would remain together? I bring this up, as I feel we ought to address your past breakup, or rather, how and why it happened, so it doesn't happen again."
Her eyes narrowed just a little. "Why?"
"Because us writers tend to care about our victims, characters - we tend to care about our characters."
Her eyes narrowed a little more. "Did you just say, victims?"
The man stood up. "Be right back," he said, then turned and disappeared through an open door that appeared out of nowhere.
When he returned, he had black latex gloves on. Approaching Cami, he pressed both hands to her temples, and the darkness took her, resulting in her slumping forward in her chair.
She would have faceplanted into the floor had he not caught her, and set her down on the floor, on her back.
Straightening up, the man took off his gloves as he regarded her sleeping form. "You just had to notice my Freudian slip there, Cami, and now I can't tell you about… nevermind, you'll find out eventually.
He then returned to the round table, on which his computer waited, and resumed typing.
And Camicazi woke up from her medically induced coma. What a miracle!
The man then snapped his fingers, and he, the table, his computer and everything else in the white space, disappeared in unison.
Bleary blue eyes opened, with Cami finding a sizable amount of her vision obscured by her oxygen mask.
She sat up sluggishly, her limbs feeling like lead from disuse. A moment later, the door to the room, along the wall to her right, but beyond the foot of her bed, opened with a bang.
Cami jerked, her head turning to the right as her mother burst into the room, followed by Anne, carefully lifted the oxygen mask off of Cami's head, then swept her daughter into her arms.
Squeezing tightly for a second or three, Bertha drew back and looked her over. "You are really awake and alright, aren't you? Should I hold up some fingers?"
"There's only two of you, right? You and Anne," Cami checked.
Bertha grinned. "Yep. Just had to make sure. That's my girl."
"Yeah…" She murmured, but her thoughts weren't on her mother by this point. As soon as I get out of here, I'm going to find that courier. I need to know if what happened in that hallucination was real…
"Can you get me some water, mum? And uh, can you get a doctor so I can get out of here?"
Bertha nodded quickly. "Of course. I'll uh… I'll be right back. You two catch up in the meantime."
She left hurriedly, leaving Anne and Cami alone. "Hello," Anne began.
"Hey. How do you do?"
"Same old. How are you doing?"
Cami smirked. "My limbs feel heavy, I just might throw up spaghetti."
Anne snorted and bit her lip. "That was terrible."
"Say that when you're trying not to smile or laugh."
"Touché."
She then leaned forward, looking at Anne inquisitively. "So what's the state of Berk?"
Anne sighed. "Well Hiccup seems to have a few enemies. Some of them abducted his girlfriend - Astrid I think her name was. But then the DDIS helped arrest her captors, a few days ago."
"Sounds like you, her and Hiccup have been busy lately."
"That we have. So, after we get you out of here, you wanna go get a takeaway after my shift? Just like old times and all."
"Sure thing," Cami smiled.
…
With a sigh, Bekker opened the door to her locker on base, out of which she took dog tags, linked by a chain and inscribed with the initials 'K.B'
Placing them around her neck, Bekker turned to Hiccup. "Just in case you're wondering, my boyfriend's full name was Karl Borg."
"Okay. Did you get hit with nostalgia? Is that why you're bringing those tags out?"
She shrugged. "More or less…"
He nodded. "So, you mind if I leave my phone in that locker before we go for drinks? That way, I can ignore the world for a bit."
"How busy is your world?"
"Quite busy, and increasingly so. I'm sought after annoyingly often. Word of advice: leave the army behind when anyone mentions a promotion to captain. Trust me, things get stressful when you become one."
"Speaking from experience there, Captain? Alright, what's the most stressful thing you've had to deal with?"
"Three things: dealing with people dying, dealing with people who won't do what they're supposed to, or refusing out right, and paperwork. Avoid them at all costs, if possible. But enough about that. Let's go unwind with the others."
"Then put your phone in the locker and we can get out of here, Captain Henry."
Hiccup blinked. "Right you are. Apologies for getting carried away. It happens sometimes." After putting the phone away and closing the locker, he put his hands together with a clap.
"So, Sofie. What is your poison of choice?"
"Whisky. And yours is?"
"Bloody Mary, usually. Though I've had bourbon before. Lead the way to the watering hole. I'm sure I've forgotten."
In a hospital waiting room further north, Heather groaned, lowering her phone from her ear then turning to Fishlegs who was sat beside her. "He's not picking up. Guess we'll have to handle this ourselves, until he's found again. Can you call your parents to instigate this feud?"
"Of course I can, Heather. It's just that family feuds involving my family are rare," said Fishlegs. "I think it's only happened twice in over a thousand years, and both times it was for more serious stuff than this. I still think Astrid should just sue and be done with it."
"Yeah, and how well would that go with her being deafened? She'd be thrown out for making a mockery of court, most likely."
"So have Hiccup, myself or you speak in her stead. Problem solved."
Heather sighed. "That would work if I just wanted to have Astrid compensated for this. I don't. I would like it passed into local law - that deafening a police officer while in the line of duty is to be frowned upon, so that it hopefully doesn't happen again."
Fishlegs shrugged, then reached into a pocket for his phone. "I still think this is a bit heavy handed, but I'll call my dad and see what he thinks we should do. He was a lawyer and all."
"Thanks babe," she smiled.
"Anytime," Fishlegs muttered in response.
…
"So the leadership of our allies are under lock and key?"
"Yes, General Hendegaard."
Hendegaard drank the remaining liquid - Earl Grey tea - from the cup in his hands, then set it down. It rattled against the table but went ignored by both men in the room.
"Pah! Alvin, Drago and his lackeys - useless idiots, the lot of them. Right, execute takeover Alpha. The Outcasts can still be of use to us. Make them know there has been a change of management and be sure to make contact with your cousin, Major. We will need her expertise in the future. Oh, and since Drago and Olaf are in police custody, see to it that our DSIS associate disposes of them both."
The major in question, whose name was Bjarne Kjærgaard, saluted his superior. "It shall be done, General."
Once he left the study, the general rose from behind his table and approached the right wall, permanent marker in hand.
Along this wall were a collection of pictures; interconnected by red lines. Drawing an X on the pictures of Drago, Alvin, Savage, Ryker, Mildew, Krogan and Grimmel, the general paused, turning his gaze on another picture, depicting a former colleague who he didn't know much about.
General Stoick Haddock.
After a moment of staring, his gaze then drifted lower, to a picture of a man whom the general knew even less about, but whom he found to be involved in many recent events.
Captain Henry Horrendous Haddock III.
"I suspect I will be quite knowledgeable on these two in the future."
Circling the picture of Henry with his permanent marker, Kasper Hendegaard drew a line that extended from the circle and added the following words.
Possible next target. Low priority: Assign Anja Moller the task of monitoring this individual at the earliest opportunity following her arrival at this abode, following the success of the good major's efforts. High priority: Use her to make contact, buying his trust and arrange a possible meeting between the captain and me, to determine if he could prove useful as an ally, or remain an opponent as he has been to my former associates.
Doing the same thing with Stoick's picture, he simply wrote the words, Have him monitored discreetly.
…
"Hey bartender! Eleven drinks on the double!" Dall called as the group entered the watering hole. She then pushed Hiccup forward. "And he's paying for them!"
The bar was almost empty, lit with lights that gave off a slight blue glow and a jukebox emanating music in the corner. The bartender, who was a blonde woman with hair in a ponytail, sighed with a note of resignation, then nodded and turned to procure glasses for her new customers.
"I apologise in advance for them. Who knows what they'll be like when drunk," Hiccup told the bartender when he reached the bar.
"Apology accepted, but I wonder what you'll be like when drunk, sir."
"It takes a lot to get me drunk, so don't worry about me."
The bartender smiled a little at his words. "Not the first time I've heard that and have it not be true. Forgive me if I have doubts."
Shrugging, Hiccup turned and addressed his colleagues. "So, what would all like to drink?"
…
A/N: And thus, the setup for the sequel and the tying up of plot threads, begins.
Looking forward to hearing what you fine fellows have to say about this chapter, as ever.
Now, I ought to finish the TGS'verse chapter I've got in the works, outline a short story I'm planning, and decide how to start off the next TGS chapter.
Oh, and an idea for the title of the sequel to this story has been conjured up - 'Gentle No More'
Let me know what you think of it. Alternative titles are of course welcome if you have ideas.
On that bombshell, I'll see you, fine readers, next time.
B/N: Beta-read and approved for publishing by CommanderGreya