The Gentle Sniper
Chapter 41: Burning Away The Dross, Part Three
A/N: More filler and plot to go before the Aage No-Name dilemma is sorted. Sorry reviewer on the Ao3 version of this story, (you know who you are) you'll need to wait a bit longer.
Review Responses:
CajunBear73: Care to guess who Frankson is meant to represent?
Loving the chapter by chapter analysis as well btw ;)
Scrumblenut: Just call Marc, 'Info Santa'
…lol
…
"No they can't be happy! Where's the fun in that!?" - J.F.
…
Auðgeir Styrbjörnsson experienced a rude awakening when his world started to move.
Or rather, he stayed where he was and the vehicle that contained him started to move.
A pungent scent assaulted his nose. The stench of fish. Something all too familiar to Auðgeir, having spent the majority of his life in the village of Arnarstapi, his birthplace back in Iceland.
Take this job, they said. You'll be in and out, they said. You won't have to put up with the smell of fish for long, they said. Yeah, fuck you too.
Auðgeir then paused, sniffing as he noticed something.
The air had definitely changed.
Where it once had been filled with the stench that Auðgeir hated so, it now smelled crisp and cold, free of the smell that had previously tainted it.
Then a warm breeze brushed along his skin. He had no way to tell where they were taking him; it could have been to his execution where no other human soul would find him, but he hoped for the best despite that.
If they're going to kill me, maybe they're going to do it in some pretty place.
He detected how the vehicle he was in pitched upwards, climbing some kind of slope, tire traction pushed to the max as the engine whined and groaned, working ever harder up whatever incline this was before them.
His head was pushed back into his seat as gravity did its thing, which was disconcerting, particularly as Auðgeir couldn't see where he was going.
His vision was filled by some kind of black material, whatever the sack over his head was made of, so he couldn't be too sure that's what it was, and all he could taste from inside the sack was the gag in his mouth, while he could feel the strain of the rope they'd used to tie the knot.
Shifting slightly, he attempted to reach around in search of anyone or anything else, but he must have made a noise because a distant, nasally voice responded.
"Stop moving or I'll shoot you and leave you to bleed out," the unseen person commanded with authority.
The voice was familiar, but Auðgeir couldn't quite place it, and his focus went elsewhere when the car he was in finally stopped.
Then, seconds later, a door opened nearby and the sack over Auðgeir's head was removed.
Blinking against the sudden influx of light, his shoulders shook in the cold breeze that brushed across his face, relentless in its assault, contrasting with the warmth of the vehicle he was in.
The snapping of fingers echoed in the silent vicinity, drawing Auðgeir's attention to an Auburn-haired man with green eyes. "Eyes over here."
In a flash, the memories of last night came rushing back to him, and Auðgeir looked the man before him up and down, his focus drawn to the gun holstered at the man's hip, partially concealed by a black leather jacket, with a suit beneath it.
After a few seconds, Auðgeir scowled at the man. "What do you want?"
Auburn, as Auðgeir decided to call the man before him, was unmoved by his scowl, opting to roll his eyes in the face of it. "Stoick Haddock you are not."
Turning away then, Auðgeir watched as Auburn stepped to the side, navigating round to the front of the vehicle. Opening the passenger side door, he reached in, causing the rustling of a shopping bag.
"Since you are likely to be hungry, I took the liberty of getting you a sandwich for breakfast. It's not the caviar of the south, but it's a close joint second. Or third or whatever. Guess that depends on what kind of sandwiches you prefer. Anyway, chicken and mayo coming your way, Mr ginger assassin."
Returning to the door closest to Auðgeir, Auburn dumped the sandwich and the box that contained it, in his lap, then set about removing Auðgeir in his mouth.
"How am I supposed to eat if you leave me tied up?" Auðgeir asked.
"You're not. Not until I decide what to do with you; whether to kill you or not."
With that, the man known only as Auburn to Auðgeir turned away again, looking around as he took a few measured steps.
"Lost something?" he called.
"You could say that," Auburn replied.
He eventually returned, and Auðgeir stared, completely bemused and vaguely wary at the body in his arms, which Hiccup then propped up against the car, between the door and Auðgeir's seat.
"And why did you bring a corpse over here?"
"To convince you not to do anything stupid. This is Anja Riel. I once worked with her in the Jaeger Corps. Now she is dead. My point is, you could meet the same fate, so I recommend you don't."
"Message received."
"Good. Now then," Auburn continued. "We both know you could have killed me and my girlfriend last night, but you were caught and tied up by another former colleague of mine. This tells me two things; that you have skills, but are too confident or you get tunnel vision easily. It is these skills that interest me, in combination with you holding some kind of position in Kasper's organisation, and it is why we are talking now."
"You want me on your side."
"Bingo."
"The answer is no."
"Oh I'm sorry. I wasn't aware you had any real choice in the matter. You are tied up, I have a gun strapped to my hip and Berk is a fair distance away. There is no way out of this, for you."
For further emphasis, Auburn patted his left side where the gun rested, then pointed at Anja's head, drawing attention to the bullet hole between her cloudy eyes.
With a sigh, Auðgeir reluctantly conceded his point. "Be that as it may, I can't work with you. Kasper's people will go after me next."
"So I guess we're at a stalemate."
"I guess so, Auburn."
"My name is Henry, not Auburn. As for the stalemate, well, Kasper's people would just be coming for a corpse. Alternatively, I don't kill you, you become my insider, and I can have you put in protective custody. I have friends in the army, local police, DSIS and DDIS."
"Uh-" Auðgeir began, only for Hiccup to continue.
"Even if Kasper has people in all of these organisations - which is a little unlikely - your odds of survival are better than they are right now. So I recommend you do the smart thing. Start thinking about it, and if you get doubts, just look at Anja. It's what she's here for, after all."
With that, Hiccup turned away again, creating distance between himself and the car, proceeding to admire the view.
Moments later, there was a shout bordering on hysterics. "Fine, I'll be your insider or whatever you want. Just take that bitch's corpse away from me!"
Smirking, Hiccup returned to the car and took hold of Anja's shoulders, grimacing as he dragged her away, as she was cold to the touch. "I presume you have met her before?"
Auðgeir nodded, resolute in his efforts not to look at Anja's lifeless form. "She was my "babysitter". Her words, not mine. She was told to train me in stealth, for all the good it did me."
"I see," Hiccup murmured before he let go of Anja and stood up, making his way back to the large BMW. "Well, let's be going now."
…
"Welcome to your temporary abode," said Hiccup, as he pushed open the door to his office and gestured for Auðgeir to enter. "I'll tell a colleague to arrange for you to be moved out of Berk."
"You are too kind," Auðgeir muttered, making his way to Hiccup's desk and sitting in his chair.
Hiccup rolled his eyes. "What are you, fifteen and trying to get a rise out of me? You'll need to do better than sitting in my chair," Hiccup paused for a moment. "And no, that wasn't an invitation to try, because you'll simply fail at it. Be right back."
"Challenge accepted," Hiccup heard his ginger-haired guest say as he turned, closing the door and stepping into the hall. Fishing out his phone, he looked at the text he had received a few seconds before.
He typed out a message of his own as he began to head along the hallway, retracing the steps to the entrance.
Naja, get the guy in my office to Viggo as soon as you can. Tell him to put him in protective custody and move him as far from Berk as possible; wherever Kasper can't find him. He has agreed to be an insider for us, but get someone to keep an eye on him as soon as possible.
"What happened to your "guest", sir?" The guard by the door called out to Hiccup when he reached the top of the stairs.
"He's being taken care of," Hiccup replied, descending the stairs and crossing the lobby in the guard's direction. "Don't worry."
"I beg to differ. The only other option is to be bored, sir. So I choose to worry about the strays that are brought in."
Hiccup offered him a half-smile. "You don't need to call me sir, you know, uh…"
"Jens," said the guard. "Jens Ravn."
Hiccup reached the man and nodded. "Henry. Nice to meet someone here who actually cares about their job."
"It's just how I stay entertained and keep my job, Henry. Now off you go. I shouldn't keep you."
"You got it. But keep it up and we may become good friends," Hiccup added, before finally stepping through the door out of the building and towards his BMW which waited out in front.
Hurrying over, he unlocked the driver side door with his key fob then tore it open, scrambling inside and starting the engine.
Across Berk, Gobber hit send on his phone before tossing it aside and rising from his favourite armchair inside his living room, eyes trained on the men who had emerged from the Jeep and were now racing up his house's front lawn to his door.
Plucking his Winchester SX3 hunting shotgun from its usual resting place on his coffee table that resided between his armchair and the wall on Gobber's left, he turned and stepped into the hallway just as the front door was kicked in.
A blast from the business end of a shotgun greeted the four intruders, sending them into disarray as one went down, hit full in the face.
Another blast and another headshot, followed by a shot from one of the two who remained, which struck Gobber's prosthesis. "Y-you fat cripple! You're gonna-"
Bang!
"I'm gonna, what?" Gobber asked the man, now just as dead as his two other companions. "I couldn't hear you over the sound of my shotgun."
Then Gobber stepped forward, his gaze falling on the last man, sporting black hair, an athletic build and a face pale with anxiety. Despite this, however, he drew back the slide of his USP9 and got shot for it, just like the first three.
"What were you thinking would happen? Muttonhead…"
Returning to his living room, Gobber set down the shotgun, took out his phone and watched as the young man he had spared hastily fled in the Jeep.
Then, dialling a number, he waited until it picked up. "Hey, neighbour, it's me. How soon can you get over to my place, Hoark? Had a few rather unwanted guests show up…"
…
"I notice you've been busy lately," Hiccup remarked, as he and Gobber watched the last of the body bags being packed away in an ambulance destined for the morgue while also observing Hoark and Bjørn Hofferson conversing amongst themselves.
"I sent you that text at least fifteen minutes ago. I thought you were meant to be in your prime, but you're definitely getting slower," Gobber sassed at Hiccup.
"Had to bring this. It would help, and I thought you could hold out for that long," came Hiccup's reply, hefting the Beretta hunting shotgun in his arms that had been Stoick's. "What happened?"
"Don't worry, I sorted the problem. When the police clear out, get your father's old hunting shotgun and yourself inside. There are bottles of whisky with our names on them."
"You usually don't offer whisky. The only time you did was when…" Hiccup trailed off with a sigh.
"When Lieutenant Aage No-Name died. That's right," Gobber finished for him.
"Has someone died?" Hiccup asked, his eyes cold and voice edged with steel.
"No, but someone could," Gobber said, then looked Hiccup in the eye after silence formed between them.
Hiccup's eyes widened almost immediately. "Gobber, no."
"Gobber, yes. I happen to know someone who could get me the location of No-Name. I've been letting you down, laddie. About time I did something for a change, I feel."
"You might not come back. My answer is no."
"If not me, they'll come for you," the man reiterated. "I have to do this."
A treacherous tear ran down Hiccup's face. "Then don't go alone. Bring me, Dagur, Snotlout, Gruffnut… Even Nora if she feels up to it. I have other friends who can fight with you as well."
Gobber simply sighed and shook his head with a despondent expression.
"Please, I-I… I can't lose you too!"
The major then embraced Hiccup in a bear hug.
"I wouldn't go if I thought you needed me, laddie," he murmured close to Hiccup's ear. "But look at what you've done. You became a Jaeger. You got a lass to stay by you through thick and thin. You've been by her side and she has been by yours. You grew up, laddie. You became the leader of your family. What do you need me for?"
"Why do you think you fat bastard!?" Hiccup growled. "You were more of a dad to me than my own dad. A better parent than both of mine!" Hiccup continued, voice muffled as he was held against Gobber's chest before at last sagging a few moments later.
"Please stay with me, Gobber. We've had our differences, but you have always been there for me. Do you think I know anything about leading a family? About leading a squad? All I've done is gotten people killed - both directly and indirectly. I need you now more than ever!"
"But you've also helped arrest Drago and Kasper. Your friends dying is a tragedy, but what did I use to say? We're soldiers. Death is-"
"Is an occupational hazard. I know, b-but it hurts. It hurts s-so much. Especially when people die outside of d-duty."
"And that's exactly why I must go, Hiccup. To make sure I'm the last one to die to Kasper and his band of crooks."
Hiccup sniffed, before at last pulling back to look at Gobber with wet eyes. "I'll m-miss you…"
"As will I, laddie. Now, I should box your ears for getting my shirt wet."
Hiccup gave a weak laugh. "You started it. You ruined my facade, you jerk. So where is this place and when do you plan on offing yourself?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out later. Can't have you following me and maybe getting yourself killed as well. Have a little faith in your godfather."
"I would, if it weren't for the fact that the last time I let people go off on their own, there was an explosion and I ended up down two friends."
"Well if I die and I live, I'll consider it a net gain."
The dam broke for Hiccup once more upon hearing these words, and he embraced Gobber, though only for a short while before he pulled away again.
"If you die, tell Eret that's why he should have worn ceramic armour," he told Gobber with a watery half-smile.
Gobber managed a grin. "Oh, I'll have words for all of them - revolving around demanding why they let themselves die so easily."
"Likewise," Hiccup replied before both laughed a little. "I-I should go before someone starts to wonder where I am."
"You do that, laddie, but not before drinking mah whisky. You've more than earned it."
"If you say so," mumbled Hiccup.
"I do say so. Now, follow me."
…
Returning to his office at the DDIS, Hiccup found the room devoid of life, with a ring binder on his desk in place of Auðgeir.
Setting down the folder in his arms; the one Marc had provided him, on the desk beside the ring binder, Hiccup leaned back in his chair as he picked it up and began to read the cover, as there was a sticky note present there.
So I told Viggo about your "guest" like you asked, and he wanted me to give you this. It's info on a few candidates since apparently, you're forming a team? That has me slightly curious, I admit. Also, my office is now the one next to yours, between your office and the staffroom, so if you need me for anything, just head over there - Naja.
So the room where Anja used to be. Alright.
Peeling off the sticky note, Hiccup moved onto the contents of the binder.
"Patrick Erichsen. Ludvig Povlsen. Theis Sørensen. Lasse Kragh. Rebecca Kristoffersen. Grethe Jespersen. Lillian Henningsen. Hugo Torp," Hiccup read aloud. "Four guys and four girls, not including myself, Fishlegs and Bekker. Hmm. How about one more girl?"
He stood up and sauntered over to the door to Naja's office. "Hey-oh. You've got a visitor."
Naja and Johann looked over at him, the latter from the chair that he was sitting in, in front of Naja's desk.
"It's good that you're here actually. You know Cillie Thorston, don't you? I have a task for you concerning her. Something which is more your style. See, she, as I was just telling Naja here, has been a bad girl."
Hiccup looked at Naja. "Oh?"
"She's apparently been using the storeroom at her café to hold grenade launchers," she replied.
Nodding slowly, Hiccup looked back at Johann. "How shall we handle her?"
"Bring her in and make her work with us. If she refuses, make it clear that the DSIS will find out about the contents of her storeroom."
"Very well," said Hiccup, cracking his knuckles. "It will be done."
…
On the way to Heimdall's Peak Café, Naja looked to the driver of the BMW X5, who was, of course, Hiccup, and chose to break the silence that had formed between them since the beginning of their journey.
"Two questions: one, what is your drinking limit? Two, got any good stories from your time as a soldier?"
"It takes four pints of wood alcohol for me to get drunk, which is, if you don't already know, the most concentrated form of ethanol one can buy in a bar. As far as I know, at any rate. As for a story from my past, I once got caught in an IED explosion and nearly died. There you are. Now storytime is over, so let's move on."
Naja did so with a nod. "So you purposefully drank wood alcohol to find out your limit?" Naja inquired curiously.
"No, I was dared to do it by a close friend who offered to pay me for it. He was a chemistry nerd. And the hangover was the worst experience of my life as you might imagine, considering how much wood alcohol I drank that night."
"Hmm. I think I'd like to meet your friend someday."
"My friend isn't around at the moment, but I'm hoping that can change. I'll let you know if it does."
"Alright then. Please do."
When they reached the café, Naja spoke again as she undid her seatbelt. "Since this is your first time making an arrest, I'll take point. You just keep the engine running in case she tries to run."
Hiccup gave a nod which she reciprocated with a smile, then was gone.
Plucking out his phone, Hiccup dialled Fishlegs, then turned his head to look at Naja through the large windows of the café as the dial tone buzzed in his ear.
"He-Hello?" Fishlegs said, the word broken by a yawn.
"Hey. Sounds like you could use some sleep."
Fishlegs yawned again. "Just woken up. Thought I'd sleep in as a celebration over managing to figure out those damn crutches. Go me."
"That's great! Want me to buy you a congratulatory breakfast from McDonald's or something in a bit?"
"No, it's okay. Thanks for the offer though."
"No problem."
"So what are you up to, nowadays?"
"Well right now I'm sitting in my car with the engine running in case a soon to be detainee makes a bid for freedom. So if I suddenly hang up on you, then the person will have done just that."
"Okay… I'm going to have breakfast, since I'm probably breaking rules by talking about your job with you."
"Fair enough. Have fun eating I guess."
"I'll call you when I'm done. Then I can meet you at the ferry port."
"Sure. I'll be there as soon as I finish up with my current task, provided my boss doesn't need me to do more."
"Alright. Bye now."
"Bye, Fish."
Hiccup had only just put away his phone when one of the backdoors of the car opened.
He turned in his seat and watched as Naja helped Cillie inside, with the café owner soon meeting his gaze and her eyes widening in surprise. "Hiccup!?"
"Welcome to my world," said Hiccup, before he turned in his seat once more and ended up looking ahead. "Get comfortable. You'll be in my world for a while."
…
Bloodstains littered the walls and the floor in little specks of red, and brown for the really old stuff.
Evidently, the torture room had been around for a while, and there were cold wisps here; a chilling feeling that would rush down the spine of anyone entering her of the poor souls interrogated in years past.
The haunting aura didn't impede Hiccup, however, from padding forward into the room to find just the person he wanted to see.
Though Cillie was under the impression that she was here to be interrogated, and the choice of room was to intimidate, her interrogator had other ideas in mind.
Their eyes locked as Hiccup stepped into view. There were no friendly gleams between them, after all, this wasn't afternoon tea.
This was more like slicing the cake named 'tension' with a knife.
Neither of them wanted to make the first move until Cillie offered her hand as if trying to treat a guest with some hospitality. It was the least she could when he was about to-
CRACK.
The bones in Cillie's hand made an audible sound crushed beneath the vice grip of the recently discharged soldier standing before her. There was a pitiful whimper that escaped the mouth of Cillie, only to be silenced by Hiccup's next move.
Forcing the woman into the chair that had been so kindly reserved for her, Hiccup drew a knife, opened its blade and with a quick flick of his wrists, then threw it down so that it went through the left shoe of his victim.
Cillie whined a little bit but tried to resist the urge to scream out in pain. Bolting her to the floor, as it were, was the knife Hiccup had just thrown.
He then proceeded to draw his gun, ensuring a round was chambered by drawing back the slide as Cillie looked up at Hiccup again, just as he pointed his gun at her head, providing a view down the barrel.
At this range, with the gun trained on her head, he wouldn't miss and she, therefore, thought it was best to remain silent; even if all she wanted to do was do what came naturally to her - ask questions.
At last, Hiccup spoke. "I trust you don't want a bullet between your eyes, so tell me what you know about Kasper Hendegaard. And don't lie, because I have a contact who can verify what you say."
Cillie Thorston opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a bang; the distant sound of an explosion, followed by gunfire.
"You hear that?" Hiccup snarled. "That is what happens when you join Drago and his merry band of crooks. Tell me another important building for Kasper and co. Distribution centre, weapons manufacturing - whatever. And make it snappy. I feel you don't want to be around when they get here. His people seem to have been going after everyone who interacted with Drago. You could be next."
"Just like your parents, huh?"
BANG.
Cillie screamed, cradling the knee that Hiccup had just shot, then having the gall to glare at him as the sound of distant gunfire continued.
"Mention my dead parents again. See what happens. On a side note, what is it that you freaks find appealing about these people? These domestic terrorists? Sven, Bob the sled and now you, among others of course. Is it just money?"
"I can't speak for the others, but I was paid a fair bit to store the guns and keep quiet about them."
"Right," Hiccup nodded. "Still waiting to hear what you know about Kasper."
Another explosion sounded again, this time nearer. "S-shouldn't you go take care of that?" Cillie questioned a note of fearful pleading in her voice.
"I'm sure the DDIS can take care of it for now. What do you know?"
"N-nothing, I swear! Two trucks would come by each week. One to drop off the guns and the other to take them out of Berk."
Hiccup pressed his gun to her other knee, and Cillie responded by leaning back in her chair. "What kind of trucks?"
"W-well, they're not really trucks. More like vans. They belong to Blue Star Security, a company Drago owned. They would show up half an hour after closing time, but always on different days."
"I see," Hiccup nodded. He opened his mouth to continue, but another explosion sounded, nearer still than those before it, followed again by gunfire.
Hiccup sighed after hearing the noise. "Well it seems like my colleagues are either incompetent or dead or both, so that's all we have time for, currently."
"Wait!" Cillie exclaimed, making Hiccup pause and look back with a hand on the door handle. "Give me a gun. If you die, I die, and you lose out on what I know."
"If they kill me, then you'll die too, regardless of whether or not you have a gun."
With that, he stepped into the hallway and closed the door, looking left and right in search of anyone else.
On Hiccup's right, the hallway stretched on. A man stood at the end of it close to the staircase. He held a rifle in his arms, pointed directly at Hiccup.
The reserve Jaeger attempted to bring his gun to bear, fire, and retreat back into the room he had just left. He was half a second too slow to do any of these things.
A short burst struck his right shoulder, rendering that arm unusable. His grip loosened. The gun slipped from his grasp and he groaned aloud as pain exploded white-hot from the wound.
He glanced at his dropped gun, then back up at his assailant. One man had become two.
Gunfire that was not their own burst to life. A DDIS agent arrived behind the pair, cutting down the second man before he was shot by the first.
Hiccup was not idle. He used the distraction as an opportunity to stagger to the left, snatch up his gun with his uninjured hand, and aim.
He got off a single shot as his assailant was turning back to face him. It struck the man dead centre but only made him stagger back a few steps thanks to his body armour, providing just enough time for Hiccup to readjust his aim and shoot him through the head.
Hiccup sighed in exasperation as the attacker went down.
You know, I really wish, just for once, that these people could make a mistake. Clearly, that's too much to ask the gods. Oh wait, they hate me. Well, no surprise they make no mistakes then.
His bitter thoughts subsided when Naja and Sigrid arrived, appearing at the end of the hallway, their guns at the ready.
"Well it's about Thor damned time you showed up. Naja, fetch me a first aid kit; I got hit on my right shoulder and thigh. Sigrid, explain to me what the fucking protocols in this place are, if anyone can find them, and rain hell on this organisation. From what I've seen, Interpol would have handled this in five seconds flat." Hiccup snarled.
Sigrid at least had the decency to grimace. "I'll take it up with Johann for you later. He'll listen to me. But first aid kit or not, you need to go to hospital."
"We're in a battle, Sigrid. War rules apply; if you can still fight, you keep fighting."
"You're not a soldier anymore."
"One does not simply stop being a soldier, even if they have left the military."
Turning away in silent dismissal, Hiccup returned to the room where Cillie remained captive.
He faced her, levelling his gun at her head.
"A man I never had the chance to meet died because of you and your friends. He helped to save my life before he was killed. That makes him better than both of us. Just thought you should know."
Then his gaze turned cold. "Because of your friends, good people - any number of DDIS agents - died. Now to deal with you."
Cillie's eyes were wide. "Hiccup, wait-"
BANG.
"No. There will be no more waiting," said Hiccup, turning as Sigrid burst in, having heard the shot.
She looked at Cillie's lifeless form, then at Hiccup. "You ought to not be so trigger happy."
"She's not innocent and I've killed people for less. Anyway, do you mind going to fetch Kasper, his phone, and Auðgeir? Clearly, I was far too lenient on Kasper before. I'm not going to make the same mistake again."
Sigrid eyed him warily, but nodded, her eyes not leaving the corpse, as she headed back before at last turning, then hurrying from the room.
…
The building flickered a deep orange, reflecting in the face of Hiccup as a tear made an unwanted bid for freedom down the side of his face.
On his left, Sigrid was in a similar state, minus the tear of course.
"You see this, Sigrid? This is the result of the DDIS doing nothing. You had years to stop Drago and start the process of dismantling his organisation, yet you never did. I've done more work in this regard than all of you."
"I won't disagree, but your methods aren't… you know…"
"Cruel? Morally questionable? Egregious? That is correct, but do refer to my previous answer. I don't want to do this shit, but it seems like I don't have a choice. You have one guess as to why that is, Sigrid."
She chose not to guess. It wasn't necessary. "That said, Cillie is dead. What are your plans with Kasper?"
"Make him call his people, have them stand down or he dies. They launched an attack on the building containing him, so clearly they care about him. Ergo, he is the perfect bargaining chip."
"Okay…" Sigrid gave a tired sigh. "I hope you don't need me for this."
"I need you to keep this a secret. Astrid, Fishlegs, Cami… they can never know. No one can know about what I did to Cillie's café. It's thanks to the DDIS that I am forced to do this so, ironically, it will be them that cover it up. So you best get started on that. Leave Kasper to me."
Nodding, she turned away. "We should split up. I was never here."
"Mhm. I never saw you. As far as I'm aware, you're at work overseeing repairs or whatever."
"Indeed."
They parted ways then, with Sigrid heading for her Range Rover and Hiccup for his BMW X5.
Opening the back doors, Hiccup pressed down on the seatbelt holder to eject it, freeing Kasper, who he then grabbed the arms of and hauled from the vehicle.
"Stand up. Go over there," Hiccup ordered, letting go of the man and returning to close the door of his car.
Facing him again, Hiccup found Kasper to be observing the burning café. "Well this is edgy."
"That's not edgy. Edgy is dressing in black all the time and roaming in a dark room wherever possible. That is sending a message. I will burn down your organisation piece. by. piece."
"And you wanted me to see that?"
"You will call your people. You will get them to stand down or they lose their leader; evidently you are someone they care about a fair deal. If you don't, Heimdall Peak Café will become your burning tomb," as he finished speaking, Hiccup reached into his left pocket and tossed Kasper his phone.
Catching the device, Kasper looked at Hiccup curiously. "Before I call my people, tell me: what will you do in the meantime?"
Hiccup didn't reply, instead bringing a hand to rest on his holstered USP9 as he directed a flat stare at the former general.
"Not feeling loquacious all of a sudden?"
"Do you want a bullet to the knee?"
"Fine, fine. I'll call one of my associates now."
Hiccup looked to the steadily burning building as Kasper's phone started ringing, then he began to address the person on the other end as the line connected. "The attack failed as I'm sure you've guessed by now. Stand down. Yes. Of course I'm serious. I was serious yesterday as well. …Good, thank you."
There was a brief pause. "It's done."
Hiccup faced the man. "Good. Now, onto one little key detail. Iceland."
"What about Iceland?"
"The bulk of your gun smuggling organisation is based there, correct?"
"Yes…?" Kasper murmured, trying to figure out Hiccup's angle.
"So it would make sense to keep important assets there, correct? Assets such as a comatose hostage, for example."
"Most astute of you. No doubt you've also figured out that I am a popular leader, following the recent attack. So I am compelled to offer you a deal, if you'll hear me out."
"And why should I do that?"
"Because the recent attack failed, my people clearly want me back. So much so that handing over one comatose soldier, in exchange for me, would be a trivial matter for them."
"Get in the car," Hiccup snapped. "I have a few calls to make. And yes, we have a deal, so not a word, unless you want your skull to be ventilated by me and my gun."
"So uptight," Kasper tutted. "You need to get a girl, mate."
Hiccup gave an eye roll."In the car. Now."
…
At her workspace at the police station, Astrid gave a start when a plastic bag was placed beside her, having not heard anyone approach due to her focus on her work.
Turning in her office chair, she looked up at her visitor before smiling at said visitor. "Hi, babe."
"Hey, milady. I've brought you some… unmentionables," he said, nodding to the bag.
Her curiosity piqued, she looked inside the bag, then started laughing. "Y-yes. Those are unmentionables, indeed. Totally. Um… how did you cope in the shop? I must know."
"This isn't my first time buying them. It's just the first time - to help out Cami - wasn't a fun experience for me. Then at some point I called them 'unmentionables' and the name stuck. It became a running joke that I decided to share. You're welcome, milady."
"So basically you're being facetious right now."
"Yep. Oh, and that brings me to the other reason I'm here."
Hiccup plucked a key from his pocket which he handed to her. "This is a copy of the key to my place. Don't lose it, at least for the rest of today."
"Why? What's happening today?"
"Something has come up with work, which means I might not be back until late tonight or tomorrow or whatever. Hence the key."
Astrid nodded. "Okay. Anything else you want me to know?"
"Besides that meeting of sorts at my place being off the table, no. That's everything now. Nothing else important to say."
Stepping closer, he dipped his head a little and kissed her on the lips.
It got a bit more involved than either intended, but both were smiling when they separated.
"See you when you get back, babe. I love you,"
"I love you too, milady."
Emerging from the station, Hiccup approached a certain redhead, who was leaning against the X5.
"Did I mention how much I like this ride of yours?" Asked Bekker.
"Yes. Plenty of times on the way here. Now I need to pick up a few things before we go. Is that okay with you?"
"Depends on how much counts as a 'few'. You bringing a pile of suitcases?" she teased.
"I'm bringing a folder, a ring binder, and, if things go as planned, two injured soldiers; my former boss and a friend. You've met the latter already."
"Oh, you mean Fishlegs? Cool. Only problem could be the room in the car. There is only one seat at the back, between your carpool buddies and your friend isn't exactly small."
"Not a problem. He has his own car. The real problem will be getting my former boss to come along. He can be stubborn at times."
…
An unimpressed Gobber sat bound with his arms crossed in the passenger seat of Hiccup's BMW.
He was staring resolutely ahead, refusing to look at Hiccup, which was just as well, as he was also not looking at Gobber in much the same fashion.
"You tied me up."
"You pointed a shotgun at my friend. While it makes sense that you are alert, who knows if you will lose your head? I tied you up as a precaution."
"She's in the car behind us. Fishlegs car."
"I never said the precaution was for her. Though tying you up and putting you in my car also protects them, it's mostly for me. I'm feeling a bit off my game at the moment."
"You also practically abducted me to stop me doing what I planned."
"A convenient side effect. However, what you were going to do was a reckless plan.
"I sense an argument incoming. One in proportion to those done by an old married couple. If only I had popcorn," Kasper interjected from his backseat.
They both turned in their seats to look at him, then looked at each other.
They bit their lips.
Twenty seconds later, Hiccup caved.
He snorted, then devolved into full laughter, which set Gobber off as well.
"Ha… that was a good one. There's a chance I won't kill you now, Kasper."
"Speak for yourself, laddie. Drago is dead, so he's fair game."
"Don't kill him just yet. I agreed to hand him over with his people in Skagen, in exchange for Aage. After that, you can do as you please, but leave me out of it."
Hiccup looked at Kasper again. "If not, I will find you and skin you alive."
"Don't worry, I don't plan to go back on the deal. Not with my life in the balance."
In the Mini Cooper that was driving behind Hiccup's inherited BMW, Bekker glanced at the driver. "What is Hiccup like, when off duty? You'd know him better than me."
Fishlegs glanced at her in turn, then refocused on the road. "Not much different from his on-duty self. Unhappy, angry, frustrated, self loathing; though he disguises that by shouting at other people rather well."
"Was he always like that?"
"No. He used to simply be focused during missions and playful outside of them. Then Aage No-Name died. Guess what happened next."
"He changed," said Bekker.
It was more of a statement than a guess or an answer, but Fishlegs nodded all the same. "He did. Now, what brought this on?"
She sighed, looking out the window. "I guess I want to see him happy for a change. Truly happy. And not for a short period of time."
"The easiest way to do that would be to learn necromancy."
She laughed, but it tapered off into bitterness. "Yeah, that would be nice…"
…
In the mirror within the bathroom of a hotel room in Skagen, Hiccup inspected the shoulder and thigh that had been shot at.
Just heavy bruising apparently. The cut on my thigh seems to have sealed up now, so I can remove the stitches later. I got lucky. If I hadn't been wearing my body armour and he went for my vitals… well, it's a good thing that didn't happen.
Someone banged a fist on the bathroom door, startling Hiccup as he began to apply fresh bandages - which Bekker had brought him, as she was his roommate, meant to help him keep an eye on Kasper.
She was also at the door. "Hey, hate to hurry you, Haddock, but Kasper here says he needs to go and take a leak."
"Yeah, I'm almost done here, Bekker."
Finishing up with a sigh, Hiccup reached for the door handle and stepped into the main room.
"Interesting group of people you got here," a voice said, close to his ear.
Hiccup jumped. "Can you fucking not?!"
Bekker broke into giggles atop the higher half of one of the two bunk beds in the room and even Kasper looked amused as he passed Hiccup for the bathroom.
"It was well worth it for your reaction, babe," she said after calming down.
His lips twitched. "Is that your new pet name for me? 'Babe'? I'm sure my girlfriend and Kai would object."
Bekker shrugged. "They're not here."
Then, nodding to the ring binder that lay open in her lap, she continued her earlier point. "So like I said, you seem to have some interesting people here. One of them is an ex-Frogman if my eyes aren't deceiving me."
"Really? Well they're on the team for sure."
Bekker patted the space to her right. "Come up here and let's see about the rest of these guys and gals, captain. Or I guess not anymore."
"Oi! Once a soldier, always a soldier."
"I know," smirked Bekker. "I'm just messing with you."
Hiccup shook his head fondly. "You're good at that, I must admit. Now let me get my phone out first, so I can see how Fishlegs is doing with his task. Then I'll be right with you."
"Okay, I'll-"
There was a knock on the door. "Room service!"
Hiccup wordlessly drew his gun and quietly stepped over to the door, passing Kasper as he emerged from the bathroom.
Opening the door after peering through the peep-hole, he held his gun at head height with the brunette in the hallway.
She had a pizza box in her arms that she opened to reveal a cheese pizza.
"Who are you? I didn't order any pizza."
"Rebecca Kristoffersen, DDIS," she introduced. "Heard you were putting together a team, and I found you were in the area, so I thought I'd swing by."
She paused as she eyed the gun pointed her way. "I didn't think you'd be quite so on edge."
Hiccup shrugged. "Desperate times and all that."
"No worries. May I come in? I brought pizza to share as you can see."
"Sure," Hiccup stepped aside to let her in, then, with his gun at the ready, checked the corridor in both directions for anyone else, before at last closing the door.