The Gentle Sniper
Chapter 34: Some well deserved R&R Part Two
A/N: The title is ironic, as not much R&R happens on Hiccup's part in this chapter. Not enough, at any rate. I just can't seem to give him a break.
Also, my beta went on an impromptu holiday recently, so that was the reason for some of the delay in getting this out here.
Review Responses
CajunBear73: He's involved, but not a major player in the game… yet.
*wink*
Scrumblenut: I think I may have found a way to get around the whole author thing I did. So on that bombshell, enjoy this first scene of mine.
…
The door was slammed open by a particularly frustrated blonde, who cast a glance around, then marched to the front desk.
"DSIS. I'm looking for one of your employees. Where is Joshua?" Cami, now back in her DSIS uniform of pale blue shirt, black tie, trousers and coat, demanded of the receptionist, a woman with long dark hair, wearing a red t-shirt and blue jeans as she stared down at Cami, utterly unperturbed by her ire.
"He doesn't work today. I can get you his address," the woman calmly replied.
"Please do," Cami prompted, then stood there with crossed arms and a tapping foot as the woman's focus shifted to a locked cabinet behind her, from which she procured a ring binder.
"Okay… here is his address," the woman said, after searching through the binder and removing a sheet of paper from it.
Cami reached for it, but the woman kept the paper out of reach as she spoke again, her voice now low in volume. "Try not to lose that. We have copies, but if people find out I handed out employee details, I'll be sacked."
"You have my word on it," Cami nodded.
"I better, because we'll be having words when I find you next."
The address on the paper led Cami to a house; one of many that bordered Hela's Crest Graveyard.
Knocking on the door, it opened a short while later to reveal the person she was looking for.
"Hello? Can I help you?"
"I'd like to talk to you, Joshua."
The man before her blinked. "My name isn't Joshua. That's my twin brother's name."
"…What?"
"Yeah. My name's James," Half turning, James called out. "Joshua! Get your butt over here!"
"What's up?" the man of the hour asked.
"Don't 'what's up' me! What did I tell you about messing with people? Go and apologise to her!"
With that, James brushed past Joshua and was gone, leaving him and Cami alone at the front door.
"Alright," Joshua sighed. "Sorry for the mixup…"
Cami sighed in turn. "Not your fault, I think? So just earlier today, I was in a coma, and I think I hallucinated you… at least, the person looked a lot like you… now I'm not sure what to think."
Joshua stared at her. "Right… well, it's certainly a weird situation… for both of us."
Cami nodded, grimacing a little. "You can say that again…"
Joshua nodded his agreement. "Yeah. So what now? What will we do now?"
"I don't know. Probably take a nap or something. Uh, laters, I guess."
"You could leave, but how about instead of that, you come inside for tea or something? I mean, I feel like I owe you if you hallucinated me…" Joshua proposed.
Cami slowly nodded. "Hmm… on one condition," she brought out the sheet of paper from a pocket, which she then handed to him. "You keep an eye on this, just in case I forget it. Your colleague wanted it returned, so I'd hate to get her fired because of me."
He took it as he gave a firm nod in reply. "Yeah, that would be bad. I'll keep it safe for Monica."
"Yeah. Now, I prefer coffee to tea. You wouldn't happen to have some, would you?"
Joshua smiled. "I do in fact. Follow me."
…
Downing the last of her drink, Bekker placed her glass on the countertop in front of her, then signalled to the bartender for her next drink. "Let's make this place a little more fun tonight."
"What are you suggesting?" Hiccup set down his own mostly full glass on the counter, having just swallowed a sip.
"A drinking game," Bekker answered, once the bartender had refilled her glass with bourbon, the liquid shining within, underneath the bar lights. "Each round we reveal something more and more personal. First one to chicken out or black out loses. Loser has to get the other's coffee for a month."
"Are you sure this is something you really want to do, ketchup-top? You know that I'm probably going to win. Not that I'm complaining about you having to get me Mochas, Espressos or any other kind of coffee for the next month," Hiccup stated.
"Completely sure, Fishman," Bekker firmly replied, swirling the drink in the glass around in her hand. All the while a smug smirk decorated her lips.
She had already had a few and that gave Hiccup the advantage; not that she knew his limit of course. She wouldn't be smug if she did. "All depends on if you're man enough to take me on. And I think it's you who will be fetching coffee for me, thank you."
The pair looked at one another, staring like it were suddenly a wild west standoff. A dangerous glint appeared in the redhead's eyes, followed by a cold and composed one in her opponent's set.
It was Bekker who took the first draw and hastily swallowed the liquid in her cup like a shot, then set about revealing something personal. Given how silly it was, perhaps the girl was already reaching her threshold. This would be child's play to Hiccup, then.
"Sometimes… when I go to bed at night… I leave my socks… on." She slurred out, passing the buck to the man sitting next to her.
Oh boy, this was going to be one wild, but short, ride, thought Hiccup.
Downing the rest of his drink, Hiccup eyed an expectant Bekker. "I've never had a headache after getting drunk. Only had trouble walking. Guess I'm lucky in that way."
"I'm not… not sure I believe… believe that."
"It's the truth, believe it or not, ketchup-top. Your turn now."
"W-what to… say next?" Bekker thought aloud.
"Perhaps the fact that you can't handle your drink," Gad half called, half laughed, from further down the bartop, however, Bekker didn't seem to catch his words beyond managing a half turn in his direction, before giving up and then turning back to Hiccup.
He makes a good point. "Hey, bartender! What does my friend here owe you? I think she's had enough to drink," said Hiccup.
"No- I, hmm… I want another-" Bekker slurred.
"Another what?"
"A drink! I want another drink… we're still doing our game."
"You can barely form sentences without pausing. The game is now over," Hiccup declared firmly.
"Buzz-hic!-kill, Haddock."
"Say that to me when you can handle more than three drinks. I'm paying the bartender and then we're going back to base, you and I."
After paying, Hiccup approached Lam. "We're one woman down, so I'm taking Bekker back to base. You got the keys for one of the jeeps?"
"Yeah," Lam fished out a key fob and handed it over. "Have fun with her, Fishman."
"…I'm never going to get rid of that one, am I?"
Lam smiled. "Nope. Bye now."
The jeep ride back to base under the light of an early afternoon sun was one of silence, with Hiccup sparing Bekker glances whenever he could.
She was sitting with her face pressed to the passenger side window, framed by her unruly red hair as her eyelids half concealed her blue eyes behind her sunglasses.
"Awfully quiet there, Bek. Should I be worried and can I call you Bek? I feel like I've earned it by this point."
"I get the same deal, Hic?" she mumbled in response.
"You managed a sentence without slurring, so I should think so. Good job on that by the way."
A small smile bloomed. "Thanks."
"Tell me Bekker. What would you say to a ride back to Berk with me?"
"P-prob-not a good idea. I sometimes get carsick."
"I didn't mention cars, but I take your point. I have a motorbike," he added when Bekker looked his way.
She straightened up in her seat. "You have a motorbike? Can I have a ride sometime?"
"Sometime? Why not today? You get sobered up, I open a tab for the others and we can head out. I'm sure Ulf can give us leave."
Bekker smiled. "Sounds like a plan."
Later, a pair of soldiers entered the bar where the others roamed, one approaching the bartender with an envelope filled with money and a message, informing her that Captain Haddock and Flight Lieutenant Bekker had sent along a collective 200 Danish Krone to pay for the drinks of his compatriots while intending to open a tab for them in the likely event that more was owed by the group.
This happened while the other informed Lam that Captain Haddock had sent them along to bring them back to base when they finished up.
The female bartender then saw fit to fill in the group on the development.
"Who wants to bet that the Fishman ditched us?" Lam voiced, addressing the group as the bartender got back to work.
Dall nodded. "It goes without saying that he did. But who cares? Let's have a few more drinks before we leave."
"Good point," Lam conceded. "Bartender! Whisky on the rocks!"
"Clean up on aisle, Bekker," Hiccup muttered sympathetically as the redhead gave her best effort as she attempted to throw up her stomach; or so it seemed from the sounds she was currently producing.
He glanced at his phone as she continued in her efforts - five missed calls - one from Fishlegs, three from Heather and one from Bertha, oddly enough.
But he was prevented from listening to his voicemail as Bekker addressed him then. "This is something I certainly don't miss," Bekker groaned when she could form words again.
She then wiped at her mouth with the back of a sleeve. "Right, to Berk by motorcycle. This should be fun," she murmured, her tone taking on a note of awe as she regarded the vehicle that Hiccup was leaning against.
"Do you need anything before we go? Bottle of water, perhaps?" He checked, as he put away his phone and donned his helmet.
"If we find a shop on the way, then sure. Let's get going for now though."
Hiccup nodded. "Alrighty."
Shortly thereafter they were off, with Bekker's hair billowing out behind them as they left Aalborg air base behind.
…
Over in Berk at that very moment, Olaf Thorston was being escorted to an interview room.
The room was furnished with white tiles on the floor, walls and ceiling, and furnished only with a camera mounted on a tripod and two chairs.
Dan Henriksen, the DSIS operative doing the interview, shoved the lawyer into the room and motioned for him to sit as he set the camera to record.
"Rude," Olaf said dryly as he sat down.
"Tell someone who cares," Dan replied as he appraised the camera, then sat down facing Olaf. "Now then, are you aware that Drago and all his known associates are in custody at the present time?"
"I am aware now."
"Alright, and if you were to leave DSIS custody today, what would you do?"
Olaf stared at the man. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well we can't have you committing crime or associating with some naughty people, now can we?"
"I suppose not. But you would have some way to find out if I were to do such a thing, as you wouldn't let me go otherwise."
"No comment."
Olaf smiled. "Naturally. Can I go now?"
"Wait here," came Dan's reply, as he rose to turn off the camera. "Be right back," he added, then left the room.
His destination was on the floor above, consisting solely of holding cells, with the interview room he had just left conveniently placed near a stairwell, allowing for the swift transfer of detainees from the cells to a room for questioning.
Reaching the floor, Dan passed through a door, leaving the stairwell behind to progress through a set of double doors, beyond which waited a man in a chair behind a desk, snoring away.
He entered with his back turned to avoid his face being picked up by the camera at the far end of the room; moonwalking the rest of the way to his destination; a holding cell containing one Drago Bludvist.
It was conveniently beyond the sight of the camera, allowing Dan to turn around and enter without being noticed.
Unlocking and pushing open the door, Dan entered.
Around fifteen minutes later, Olaf arrived at his house, driven there by Dan.
"Out you get," said the man.
"Rude," the lawyer replied before he got out of the unmarked Range Rover that had brought him home.
Olaf got out and headed along the path through his front garden to the door. There he stopped and looked back, realising Dan hadn't left yet, the Range Rover's engine idling while the man himself was in the midst of a phone call.
Shrugging, Olaf brought his keys out and unlocked the door, on the verge of entering when the bullet pierced his neck, puncturing his windpipe and leaving behind a fresh orifice in its wake.
Less than half a second later, the sound of a gunshot reached his ears. Though it failed to register, as Olaf had bigger issues at that particular moment.
"Target is as dead as Drago. Good job. You can tell Kasper that he has two less problems to worry about. Dan out."
"Still speaking like a soldier I see."
"Old habits die hard."
"Very true. Thanks for the timely signal and the good news. Standby for the clean up crew. Bjarne out."
A white Ford Transit van arrived shortly thereafter, parking across the street.
"Alright, they're here. I'll meet you and the others at the ferry to Skagen."
"See you there," Dan heard his associate reply before he hung up and drove off.
…
An hour and a half elapsed, and Hiccup was frowning as he stared out over the water from the ferry deck he was standing on, with his phone to his ear.
"Is everyone I know incompetent. Tell me Bertha, how do you miss one of your own people killing a detainee as important as Drago Bludvist, and then escaping without a trace?"
"By the man in question having a good knowledge of where our cameras are. And as a DSIS agent, he would have good reason to be in the building. Need I go on?"
"Is this Dan guy a former soldier? Because if I was in position, I would deal with Drago the same way. Also, what does this person look like? Maybe I can help you cluelesslot to find him."
"I doubt anyone could find him, but I'll tell you what he looks like."
"Okay. And I reserve Drago's corpse by the way. That's my condition for helping you."
"May I ask why?"
"Let's just say there are some people; parents of a friend long dead, who I think would like proof that the man who killed their son is dead."
"So we now have to keep an eye out for a guy with brown hair and eyes that match, square jaw, broad shoulders, all that; bearing the name Dan Henriksen," Hiccup reported to Mogadon, with him and Bekker now at Solvband base. "He killed Drago Bludvist and Olaf Thorston, with the former found dead in his cell, so he's smart. Bertha also told me he was in the army as recently as six years ago, before leaving and joining the DSIS."
Mogadon nodded before his gaze drifted from Hiccup to Bekker. "Should she be hearing this…?"
"I filled her in on Drago already - though not everything he did as that's not a topic I care to recount."
"Not to mention," Bekker interjected, drawing both their gazes. "I can keep a secret. As a Jaeger, I've done it before."
"Understood," replied the man. "On the bright side, Drago is no longer a concern for us this way."
"I wouldn't say so quite yet. I bet this Dan guy is connected to Drago in some way. Wouldn't be unusual, given what I've seen."
"On this we agree. Anyway, I'll get the enlist record book. Six years, you said?"
"Yeah."
"Alright. Let's have a look."
Leaving Mogadon to it, Hiccup and Bekker then went elsewhere, along a hallway leading to a certain room in a certain white-walled building. "So this isn't how I imagined you and Astrid would end up meeting, but here we are," Hiccup began as the pair traversed the aforementioned hallway.
Reaching their destination, Hiccup pushed open the door and stepped inside. "Bek, meet Astrid Hofferson,"
"HI THERE," said Astrid, smiling from where she sat on a hospital bed, though 'said' is most definitely too gentle a term as all three people within earshot - the new arrivals plus a few nurses who were busily tending to other patients, visibly winced.
"Hi," Bekker waved awkwardly, then turned to Hiccup. "When you told me her hearing was in bad shape, you weren't kidding."
"No, I was not," Hiccup agreed as he brought out his phone. A few moments later, Astrid's phone vibrated in her pocket.
Bringing it out, she glanced at the screen, then typed away as Hiccup just had. As she did, Hiccup turned to Bekker. "Probably going to get focused on texting for a bit, so feel free to leave or whatever if you get bored. I'll call you later."
Bekker simply shrugged. "I think I can wait, but thanks anyways."
Hiccup nodded. "Anytime."
'We should talk like this, for the sake of our hearing.'
'Very well, but don't get used to this babe. So how have you been?'
'I feel like I should ask you that. But Drago is dead in case you're interested; killed by some guy who went on the run, it turns out.'
'I see. Will that be a problem for us? We should be okay now; no more chance of being abducted or anything like that.'
'Ideally, yes. Now, what about you? I heard from Heather that someone fired a gun while standing near you, hence you speaking loudly now. On that note, I assume Heather is back at work, covering for both of you.'
'Yeah. Also, did Heather tell you about the feud she's planning?'
'No, she didn't. What feud?'
After Astrid told him, Hiccup had mixed feelings about the idea.
'Well I will of course stand with you, but a four-way family feud - the largest single feud in Berk history - isn't how I imagined my day would go.
'Nor I. But think of it this way: Heather's living up to her heritage as a Berserker.'
'Not exactly a comfort, milady.'
…
A/N: More details on the feud to come along soon. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter ready sooner than this one.
B/N: Beta-read and approved for publishing by CommanderGreya