Four: Part of the Team

"Of all the incompetent, reckless, stupid, irresponsible half-assed moves you could have pulled, this is far and away the WORST!" Director Spitelout Jorgensen yelled so loudly the agents in the next office but one could hear. "You all deserve to be imprisoned until the idiotic flat-footed police services complete their investigations and clear you of any wrongdoing!" Astrid gritted her teeth, Fishlegs blushed and Snotlout looked pleased.

"Nothing to answer," he commented.

"You were firing wildly in a civilian-packed areas!" Spitelout shouted, his face bright red with fury. "You could have killed dozens of citizens…"

"Dad-chill!" Snotlout said with ill-advised confidence. "I'm an excellent shot!" There was a pregnant pause as Astrid turned her head to stare at him in utter shock.

"Are you kidding?" she accused him. "You were more dangerous than the terrorists! The only person you shot had already been disarmed by Hiccup and was being questioned-until you killed our only lead!"

"Astrid-babe-you gotta learn to accept that I was far the most…"

"Ineffective useless pile of…"

"ENOUGH!" the Director bellowed, his eyes bulging with fury. "All of your performances were wholly unacceptable!" Then his furious ice-blue gaze swung to the last member of the party, whose carefully unimpressed face met his glare without changing. "And you-what the Loki were you doing with a weapon in a public place?"

"I have a valid gun license which permits me to carry a gun anywhere," Hiccup pointed out and Spitelout lurched a step closer.

"And you were firing it in a public space!" he sneered as Hiccup's brows dipped.

"My mistake," he retorted sarcastically. "You preferred we should have huddled pathetically behind the metal table in our cafe, watching civilians get mowed down and waiting for your ridiculous police to finally get their asses into gear instead of shooting the terrorists and stopping the carnage?" Spitelout closed to a few inches and glared into the glittering emerald eyes.

"You shouldn't be shooting anyone-you are a damned assassin and should be locked up!" he sneered. Hiccup sighed.

"So you wanted me to watch those men gun down innocent women and children when I could stop them?" he asked. "I just wanted to get this straight. Intelligence Chief prefers dozens more casualties rather than helpful member of the public stopping them being killed?" He shrugged. "Well, I guess if more were killed, you'd get more funds…or isn't that how it works any more?"

"How dare you…?" Spitelout spat in his face. "You killed seven men…"

"In self defence…" Hiccup pointed out. "Thor-there isn't much hope for the Archipelago if you're more worried about your reputation than the safety of the people of Berk!" He shook his head. "Pathetic." His word was scathing. Spitelout shoved him back and gave a nasty smile, his gaze sweeping over the tall shape with his hands still in cuffs. "This mission is a failure. You three will be on desk leave until I decide how to deal with you…"

"Sir! This is madness!" Astrid protested. "There has just been a major Act of Terror and you need every agent you can get to investigate this! Putting us on enforced leave confined to our desks because we happened to be in the wrong place and stopped the attackers killing far more people makes no sense!"

"You are a loose cannon, Special Agent Hofferson!" Spitelout sneered. "I cannot believe a promising young agent would jeopardise her career by engaging this wanted murderer to deal with a suspect! Thor I should be suspending you pending expulsion but your record previously has been exemplary and I knew your father so…" She wanted to say more and stiffened but he stared coldly at her. "Another word and you're suspended." He looked over at Fishlegs and his son. "That applies to both of you," he added and Snotlout folded his arms.

"That's unfair," he grumbled as the Director turned back to the hitman.

"And as your little project is off, this man can be sent direct to Hopeless Jail, where he can remain pending his trial for multiple murders…" Hiccup frowned.

"I think you need to release me now…" he growled. "This was not the deal." Spitelout laughed at him.

"It is now!" he sneered and gestured, inviting two armed agents in. Astrid's eyes widened, seeing them level guns at the hitman's lean shape. As far as she was concerned, Hiccup had done everything she had asked of him-and more, in shooting the terrorists-but they were the ones behaving in an illegal and immoral way. She stared at him-taut with fury, eyes glittering at his betrayal and she could see he was calculating a way out as she realised the answer herself. So she lunged forward, her lips slamming onto his, hands clamping on his cheeks and holding him tight as her tongue swiped his lip. For a second he stiffened and his eyes widened in utter shock-before he relaxed slightly and allowed her to finish. Then she pulled away, a smug smile on her lips.

"Babe! What…?" Snotlout's pathetic whine was worth it all on its own, but as Hiccup managed a lazy smile, she knew he had got the point.

"Wow, blondie-couldn't resist all this bad boy?" he murmured. She leaned forward.

"Rumour says you always keep your word-and so do I," she whispered in his ear. "See you in Berserk." And then she turned away and gave Spitelout a scathing look. "I'm taking the day off, if I can't help investigate the attack. If you want me, I'll be working on my report."

"Me too," Fishlegs said suddenly and followed her as Snotlout stared after them, casting an unfriendly look at the smug Hiccup. He shook his head.

"I don't understand women," he protested and followed Astrid as the Director waved his hand and the hitman was sent away. It was only when the door closed that he moved to the phone and dialled a familiar number.

"He's on his way," he said quickly. "Usual route. He's all yours."

oOo

The prison transport was a pretty standard configuration: metal cell with skylight bulletproof windows, a metal bench bolted to each side of the cramped area. Hiccup sat down tense and riding the jolts of the very uneven ride. The drivers had decided to enjoy throwing him around the space, not securing him and taking corners at speed. They had broken protocol and not put a guard in with him-though that made his job easier-but it also concerned him why they would leave such a wanted and dangerous man to his own devices…unless they were planning something of their own.

Carefully, he checked the little area for surveillance and then quietly spat out the key Astrid had passed him when she had unexpectedly kissed him. He had been stunned and on the brink of lurching back when he left the light cold touch of metal and he had realised in a second what she was trying to do. No one had tried to frisk him-which worried him as well, because he knew the drill. Something felt very…off. But he was practical as well so he swiftly undid his handcuffs and stumbled to the door, trying it and realising it was locked. Not that he expected even Director Spitelout to be that incompetent, but his hackles were up because they were driving very fast…and when he scrambled up to peer through the window, he could tell they were on the north road, heading completely the opposite direction from Hopeless.

The report of a gun and the ricochets off the back door had him instinctively ducking but he tried the door again and was able to wrench it open-to see a tropical blue Porsche 718 Boxster S driving inches from the back of the prison van, the roof down. Astrid lowered her automatic and grabbed the wheel, the wind whipping her braid.

"Get in!" she shouted and gestured to the passenger seat. He stared at her, grinned and jumped forward, landing on the hood and scrambling to vault into the passenger seat by her.

"Really couldn't resist me," he smirked as she changed down, swerved across three lanes of traffic and shot down the ramp to the interchange. She spun round the island four times, laughing at his hand clamped furiously on the top of the windshield before they shot up the opposite side of the freeway and back towards Berk, weaving in and out of the traffic to get far enough away and then she slowed down, the wind ruffling her blonde braid.

"We should be clear-for the moment," she told him as he eyed her appreciatively.

"Thanks-I think," he managed, still tense after her driving. "Why so many times round the island?"

"If they're scanning traffic cameras and don't see us come up immediately, they'll search for us on the minor roads-where there are few cameras," she explained. "So can I ask you-why the cap and glasses? Are you trying to look suspicious?" He gave a small smile: he owed her the answer, because she had just broken him out prison and made herself a fugitive as well.

"Two reasons, both valid," he told her. "One is that I have fairly unusual hair and eyes-which people tend to recall. Cap and glasses do disguise them some-especially a baseball cap which half of Berk wears!" He grinned and she nodded. "The second is practical. The peak of a cap shields my eyes from glare. And the tint in my shades means my pupils dilate, increasing depth perception and improving my accuracy when shooting. Satisfied?" She nodded.

"Wow," she admitted. "I was really hoping you weren't going to say 'because it looks cool' because that would be a real disappointment!" He rested a hand over his heart.

"You wound me, Special Agent Hofferson," he said in a mock-hurt voice. "I try never to disappoint…"

"It's Astrid. And you haven't so far," she admitted, "though I'm afraid we have. I can only apologise for how the Director behaved…" He shrugged.

"Y'know, Astrid, doesn't surprise me at all," he admitted and focussed his very astute emerald gaze on her. "My question is-why are you persisting with me when no one wants to honour the deal?"

"Because no one has managed to get even close to Dagur," she told him tightly as they dinked through the traffic and passed a 'Viking Raider' restaurant. "Since his father was killed, he's been on a personal vendetta to make the authorities pay for his death and expand his own influence. He wants to destroy the legal government and run our country as his personal business. But his way is to kill any rival and spread terror and tyranny so that no one dares stand up to him…and if that is permitted to happen, then there is no hope for any of us." She stole a glance at his thoughtful face. "We can get nothing legal on him…and he just gets closer and closer to destroying our society. And whenever we get a sniff of proof, that person vanishes or any evidence is finagled out of the picture by dark arts from his lawyer sister Heather."

Hiccup frowned.

Heather Oswalddottir. Age 24…well, 26 now. Qualified lawyer and accountant and adept at burying illegal earnings and money laundering…

"Sounds a pretty handy sister to have," he commented carefully. "Could do with one myself." Astrid snatched a quick look at him, storing the tidbit for later reference.

"Only child myself," she added as they dodged through the traffic and headed for the exit by downtown Berk. He hummed and nodded but didn't say anything…though he looked thoughtful. Astrid stared ahead and absently ran a red light. "So why head shots? I mean-that's ridiculously Hollywood, isn't it?" He gave a lopsided grin.

"Look-conventional wisdom is that you aim at the largest target, the chest and torso to improve chances of hitting the target," he admitted. "My weapons rating is expert. But there, we were in a low position, crouched below the table, the men were standing firing into the crowd and the civilians were milling around, semi-crouched and obscuring most of the terrorists. Aiming high minimised the chances of hitting bystanders…but increased the chances of success."

"You hit everything you aimed for, didn't you?" she realised and he shrugged.

"I missed high a couple of times…but we needed to stop them." He sighed. "I should vanish…but you are right…Dagur needs stopping…" He gestured. "Turn down here and drop me off. I have a couple of visits to make-and then I'll come round to your apartment. You can take to me Berserk, Astrid. Especially since I'm now a fugitive, thanks to you." She pulled into the side-road and he instantly opened the door and hopped out.

"Apartment 3, Gold Gronckle Building, on the corner of Vinland and Helga," she told him but he smirked.

"I already knew that," he told her smugly and slammed the door. "Thanks for the ride, Astrid. See you later!" And he vanished down a narrow alley. Pausing for only a moment to raise the black convertible roof, she roared away…and after she had gone, Hiccup poked his head round the corner and headed off in the opposite direction, walking up towards Meathead Row, a reasonably good area and THORSTON MUNITIONS. He pulled his collar up and headed in, the buzz of the door sounding as two almost identical lean shapes emerged, their eyes lighting as they recognised him.

"NF! Dude!" the male said, his long blonde dreadlocks swaying as he leaned forward, grinning. His long face was lit by a broad smile and his pale brown eyes twinkled. "How's our favourite hitman?" Hiccup rolled his eyes as the female-almost identical in height, shape and size-swatted the male across the back of the head, her grey-blue eyes expressing her exasperation.

"Excuse my useless brother, H-he doesn't know the meaning of the word 'discretion'," she sighed.

"Ahem. The quality of behaving or speaking in such a way as to avoid causing offence or revealing confidential information!" the male said smugly as his sister dragged on her waist length fat blonde braids in frustration.

"Aargh! Well, he may have swallowed a dictionary but he doesn't know how to do it!" she snapped.

"Easy, Ruff," Hiccup grinned, making an appeasing motion with his hands. "We both know Tuff is a total mutton-head. But I need some serious ordnance-and maybe some back up." The twins folded their arms and shared a look.

"Are we talking dangerous?" Tuffnut Thorston checked. There was a note of hope in his voice.

"Horribly."

"High chance of death and dismemberment?" Ruffut, his twin sister confirmed eagerly. Hiccup made a show of thinking about it-and then nodded.

"We're up against the head of the Berserker Crime Empire!" he revealed and Ruff scowled.

"You know that dude plays for keeps?" she checked and then he stilled. All expression dropped from his face and he took a deep breath.

"Yes," he said tonelessly. "I may be aware of that fact."

"Sorry, dude," Tuff cut in, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. "Look-my sister was just anxious…because he's an evil dude. We know what he did to you, H. And we're with you on this one. He owes you." Ruff closed in, her hand finding his other shoulder.

"Yeah-we're here for you," she said more gently and he nodded wordlessly, lost for a moment in his memories and then he looked up.

"Thanks," he said genuinely. "So have you got any goodies for me?" Instantly, they were both bouncing in excitement and heading for the back.

"Svendson and Larson .33 calibre semi-automatic pistol with armour-piercing rounds and 20 shot clip," Ruff offered, placing the weapon on the counter along with a packet of ammunition.

"Valkyrie Sniper rife-this is the Asgard variant with enhanced range and the Svartalfheim sights with X2500 enhancement, night, infrared and low light settings," Tuff added, handing the magnificent rife to him.

"Grimora micro revolver. Three shots palm sized and packs a serious punch!" Ruff piped up, adding another weapon to the pile.

"Screaming Death Submachine gun," Tuff suggested.

"Nadder combat knife?"

"Razorwhip stiletto?"

"Enough!" Hiccup laughed as the twins popped up, both pulling on the same pump-action Rumblehorn shotgun. "Guys-thanks! Look-I may have to hire a truck to bring all these weapons…"

"Or we can bring them for you-as long as you keep in contact," Ruff promised. "We'll load up the camper van and then we can go on a road trip…" Grasping the pistols and the knife, Hiccup winked at her.

"Bring whatever you think we may need to break into the Berserker compound and take on the whole of Dagur's organisation," he said and the twins shared a glance and then placed two identical rocket launchers on the pile.

"ZIPPLEBACKS! We're all over this!" Tuff grinned madly. "Off you go, young Hiccup! We'll be waiting for you in Berserk-provided my sister doesn't slow us down by driving slowly…"

"Aargh! I drive faster than you. You don't even have a license!" Ruff retorted.

"When has that ever stopped me?"

"Good point!"

"And I'm gone…" Hiccup murmured and let himself out as the twins continued to argue over who was the worst driver and how many weapons they could fit into their camper van and still have room for themselves. There was, of course, a very high probability that if they crashed into anything on the way, the casualties would be biblical in number…so it was best to get out of their way and leave sooner rather than later…

After checking for tails, he headed down the hill and back towards Visithug Road. The drizzle was starting and BERK CELLPHONE DEPOT was busy so Hiccup went into the cafe across the road and nursed an espresso until the last customer left when he finally walked quietly in and turned to sign to CLOSED. Toothless glanced up and beckoned him closer.

"I saw something interesting on the news," he commented, clicking a remote and displaying surveillance video of the terrorist attack…and some very good shots of the unmistakeable shape of Hiccup taking out the terrorists with lethal accuracy. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Hiccup groaned. "I suspect someone will recognise classic Black Ops skills, H! Are you insane?"

"Very probably," he replied sarcastically. "I mean, I probably should have watched them shoot a few dozen more civilians…"

"Dagur will be watching out for you," Toothless reminded him bluntly and handed him a phone. "Everything you need is loaded on here. But the man is a psychopath and incredibly dangerous!"

"Hence why you're the only person left on my Snoggletog card list," Hiccup commented. "I'm heading to Berserk with some of the agents of Berk Homeland Security."

"Who you are a fugitive from," Toothless pointed out, his green eyes narrowing.

"Boy, it's a bad day to be me," the hitman snapped. "Almost as bad as the day Dagur decided he wanted to take everything from the man who 'murdered' his father. No matter I was following orders or the assassination was authorised by the President himself…I was the one to blame. But he failed to kill me." His voice hardened. "His mistake was leaving me alive. You never leave an enemy living. And I am not making that mistake. Everything he has is going-no matter what BHS orders. Everyone dies-because they made it personal."

"You want me to come?" Toothless asked him directly, his face angry. "You have to promise me-on your family-that you will do this like a hit. Plan, listen, assess, execute per plan. I don't want you running in guns blazing and killing Dagur as you go down in a blaze of glory. If that's what you're planning, Hiccup, you can go on your own."

"I've got the twins," he replied tightly, his brows furrowed. Toothless stared at him for a long moment-then turned away, walking to the back of the shop and fishing out a tiny earpiece.

"Then you'll need me-because they will definitely get you killed," he said heavily and handed it to the hitman. "You saved my life at least twice, Hiccup. I can't let you die. You're my brother in all but blood…" Hiccup shook his head.

"I hope not," he murmured. "Because everyone who was my family is dead."

oOo

Snotlout and Fishlegs had been waiting at Astrid's neat, clean modern apartment. Everything had clean lines, pale neutral walls and occasional splashes of tropical parrot blue and gold and Hiccup felt acutely out of place in his leather jacket, cap, shades and battered jeans and boots. His gun bag held a selection of his weapons from his tiny home and the rucksack held a change of clothes. Astrid was already arguing with Snotlout, who was still offended that she had kissed Hiccup-and was horrified that she had broken him out of the prison transport. He was all for turning the hitman in to Director Snotlout-until Astrid punched him in the face.

"If I find you've said a word, I'll let him shoot you himself!" she yelled as the dark-haired agent gave a pathetic whine.

"My beautiful face," he protested. "Thor, Astrid-you really need to learn to control your anger! And think things through! If you take that fugitive out of Berk, you make us all fugitives! And…"

"And what are we now?" Fishlegs asked pointedly. The man had been quiet so far, his duffle coat wrapped around his bulky shape. "No one suspends agents for stopping terrorists-except your father. Something smells bad here, Snot. And if you can't see that, maybe we should drop you in the middle of Freezing-To-Death Woods and go and finish the mission without you!"

"And we'll take your car," Astrid added with a smirk. Snotlout scrambled up.

"Not Hookfang!" he whined. "Okay-I'll drive…but you have to sit in the front with me, babe. See how long you can resist my manly awesomeness…" Astrid punched him again.

"Firstly, the answer is until AFTER Ragnarok," she snapped. "And second, I wouldn't trust your driving or you not to ring your Dad unless I am keeping an eye on you!" Oblivious, he winked.

"I knew it," he smirked. "Try not to swoon at my awesome guns…"

"I think I just threw up in my throat," Astrid commented with a grimace. "You know, I have seen decomposed corpses, the remains of the victims of the 'Boiled Egg' serial killer and helped identify the victims in mass graves in outer Berserk and not a flicker. Iron constitution, But Snotlout threatens to kiss his guns and bam-I'm ready to chuck. Bleurgh."

"And it's time to go…before the authorities come to ask us why that prison van had a broken door and no passenger," Hiccup suggested as Snotlout scowled and glared at him.

"If you get my Princess in trouble, I'll see you take the fall before anything happens to her," he threatened as Hiccup looked unimpressed and Astrid kicked the black-haired agent once more.

"I can look after myself," she snapped and Hiccup shrugged.

"Hey-you can look after me if you want," he suggested to Snotlout, who huffed and walked out. "Awkward…" he added dryly and followed.

Interestingly, once they pulled away, Snotlout was driving his huge SUV like an old woman, sticking to five miles an hour under the limit and indicating long before he changed lane or made a manoeuvre. Astrid knew he was trying to not attract attention to himself but he was driving so carefully, she knew anyone would guess he had stolen the car and was trying not to get pulled over. Embarrassed, she slid down in the seat and tried to hide her face as Hiccup pulled his cap down over his face and closed his eyes. At this rate, it would be a long road to Berserk.

oOo

He awoke in pain, darkness all he could see. There was agony still tearing though his back and weight bearing down on him. And under him lay the cooling flesh of those he loved the most. Head pounding, he managed to lift his head slightly and realised that he was in a grave: they had buried him alive.

He moved his hand, touching her and feeling cold. There was an unnatural feel to her arm that told him there was no hope and the pain in his heart almost made him close his eyes once more and wait for nature to take him back to her once more. Almost. But there was another emotion that stirred, warring with the despair and devastation: anger.

His head was spinning and his limbs felt heavy-even when not weighed down by the weight of earth on him. But they had done a pretty poor job, losing interest after they had sadistically torn the little family apart. So he moved his arm, gradually teasing the grains of soil apart and worming his way up until his hand broke the surface. Time meant nothing as he slowly teased the soil away, gradually moving his other arm until he was pushing soil aside. Every motion tore at the wound in his back and even though he knew he was buried, he could feel his breathing grow more painful and harder. If he didn't get help soon, he was going to die anyway. And that was enough to give him a final burst of energy that had him pulling his broken body up, through the hole he had dug out of his own grave.

As soon as the cold air hit him, the pouring rain began to wash the dirt from his face and he gasped in air, struggling to fill his damaged lungs. His hands scrabbled the mud, dragging his body up-but as soon as he was free, he began to dig, trying to uncover them as well. And as he dug, sobs began to clog his throat.

"Lord Odin…if you hear this…let me live…grant me enough life to make them pay for taking my family. Please...I swear I will kill him...if you grant me the chance..." he begged as he scooped the muddy earth away, slowly uncovering her staring eyes, the azure blue blank. They would never again twinkle with her love for him or shine as she laughed. Her blonde hair was clotted with mud and half-covered her beautiful face and as he finally stared into her dead eyes, he choked back another sob.

"I'm sorry, Milady," he whispered. "I failed you…failed you both…" He swallowed, tasting blood. "I promise…I will avenge you. Avenge us all…" And then he stared at his watch, activating the emergency beacon Toothless had given him. Exhausted, blackness swirled around him and he pitched forward over the corpses of his wife and son as the rain poured down through the thick branches of the deep forest, over the unmarked grave…

He snapped awake, his hand reaching for his gun and breathing hard. Snotlout was humming along to a Disney compilation disc and Astrid was staring out of the window. Ahead, the skyline was jagged with skyscrapers and the the sign by the side of the Freeway proclaimed 'YOU ARE NOW ENTERING BERSERK'.

He clicked the safety back on and sat up straighter.

"We're here," he said.