A/N: Sorry guys-delays due to travelling and dodgy hotel internet.

Five: Dagur's City

Berserk was like any other city: wide roads ran in and out through the less picturesque areas of the town; run down industrial areas lay rusting in their skeletal glory; banners advertised anything and everything; the small but busy red light area was well-populated even at this early time of day and the shining glass and steel skyscrapers jutted against the grey sky. The SUV swung through the older central area of town, the impressive late 19th century buildings resplendent in sandstone and marble, neoclassical facades and French style architecture proclaiming Berserk's wealth and influence-opposite walls tagged with a myriad of graffiti, much of it ending in the mark of a dragon crowned by jagged lines. They screeched to a halt by a red light and Snotlout swore at an elderly woman as she walked slowly across a pedestrian crossing, waving a fist and her stick at him as he leaned on the horn.

"Wow, she's really got your number," Astrid commented dryly, seeing him make a vigorous gesture at her. She returned it with even more vigour and visibly slowed down.

"Shut up, Astrid!" he muttered. Hiccup watched the woman hobble onto the sidewalk and scuttle away much quicker than she had crossed the road, his keen emerald gaze sweeping over the shape leaning casually on the corner of the street. He had noted more of them as they swept through the less salubrious neighbourhoods, a man assigned to keep an eye on what was happening in that area and make sure business was not interrupted. All men were buff, very hard looking and wore a jacket marked with the Berserker mark-a dragon surrounded by bolts of lightning. The Skrill was a legendary creature that had no patience and rained bolts of lightning down on its enemies…much as Dagur claimed to do on his enemies.

"We're being watched," he murmured, sinking back so the post by the window shielded most of his face.

"Yup-eyes everywhere," Astrid confirmed. "One of the reasons why he've had such problems getting close to Dagur." He glanced around and sighed: they had little useful intel and no contacts. In fact, he suspected he had a better support network than they did…but he wanted to keep Toothless and the twins secret for the moment. So he scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully and considered for a long moment.

"Okay-we need intel," he decided.

"Who says we haven't been trying to get some?" Astrid asked spikily and he smiled at her irritation.

"Still thinking like a good guy," he told her smugly. "Where is Dagur's hold the strongest? Which neighbourhood?"

"That's easy," Fishlegs piped up. "The Skrill's Prey. It's a bar in the Meatpacking District, on the corner of Insane and 22nd. It's rumoured to be the first place Oswald's father, Percival the Petulant, bought to start the family business. Rumoured he ran bootleg liquor, guns and prostitution from there."

"Then we start there," Hiccup decided, seeing Astrid's eyes narrow. "What?"

"When did we agree to help you?" she demanded and he sighed.

"Fine," he said, slapping his hand on the back of Snotlout's seat. "Stop the car. Thanks for breaking me out but I'm going now. You know I plan things and I'm not getting killed running, trying to assassinate Dagur without any intel on where to find him or how to open him up. So I get help or I get gone. Your choice."

There was a frosty silence until Astrid made a growling noise in her throat.

"Head for the Meatpacking District," she snapped.

oOo

The Skrill's Prey was an ordinary bar with old fashioned fittings, a television showing the recent Berserker Disembowellers Football game and a juke box was playing country music. The place was a little too dark and gloomy and rather smaller than everyone had been expecting. Hiccup-who had pulled an shapeless beanie over his messy hair and donned a pair of thick-rammed glasses-voiced what everyone was thinking.

"Wow. How did they fit all that criminality in this small space? Must have been really crowded!" Snotlout cast him a scornful look but he had already marched up to the bar, ordering a double bourbon, straight up and paying without hesitation. Then he headed to a table in the corner and sipped his drink, apparently settling back without hesitation. The others bought a selection of drinks-though Fishlegs insisted on soda water-and then came to sit by him. They sipped the drinks for a few moments.

"Well?" Snotlout asked shortly and Hiccup sighed, rolling his eyes.

"What have you noticed?" he asked.

"Two men-one by the door, another at that booth…both are watching us because we're strangers and they think we may be moving in on their territory," Astrid said without hesitation.

"While the obvious intruder-that guy by the juke box-is chatting to his dealer on the phone a little too loudly," Hiccup murmured, covering his words by taking another sip. Astrid's eyes widened. "Watch," he instructed her as the two men they had identified-plus another one who emerged from the back-converged on the unfortunate and indiscreet dealer. In seconds, his arms were grasped and a hand slapped over his mouth. There was the snikt of a knife opening and the simultaneous thud and groan of a man being stabbed before the man was hauled out to the alley to be disposed of.

Hiccup took another sip of his bourbon as the others stared in utter shock. A man had just been murdered in cold blood in front of them and all of them felt an overwhelming desire to leap in…but it was already too late and would stop no one. They knew nothing could tie the act of Dagur and would certainly blow their cover.

"I see your problem," he murmured, snapping them back to the present. "Okay-just how badly do you want Dagur out of the way? And how much are you willing to risk?" Astrid looked at him and saw a thoughtful light in his eyes. And she recalled what she had seen in the mirror, just before they had entered Berserk: him dozing, restless…and then awaking with a snap, a word almost on his lips and his hand on his gun. Some horrible nightmare had woken him and she wondered how far Fishlegs had got in his search. If they were trusting Hiccup with their careers and possibly their lives, she needed to know everything about the mysterious hit man.

"We broke you out of a prison van and went on the run with you to Berserk," she suggested. "We hired a hit man because legal means aren't working. I think that's about five laws we've violated already."

"No one asked me if I wanted to become a fugitive," Snotlout grumbled but Fishlegs paused and sighed.

"I think the demonstration we have just witnessed highlights precisely why we have to stop Dagur," he said thoughtfully. "I'm in." Snotlout glared at him.

"Not like you're a proper agent anyway, Fishface," he grumbled. "Okay-but if I get killed, I'm holding you responsible!" Hiccup ghosted a smile.

"And I'll feel duly chastened," he replied dryly. "I may shed tears." Astrid leaned forward.

"Okay-so what is your plan?" she asked.

"Two things," he told them. "First, we need the movements of Heather, his sister, pinned down. And second…" His eyes lingered on Snotlout longer than made the jet-haired special agent feel comfortable. "We need a rival crime boss to come to Berserk."

oOo

Hiccup and Astrid had taken surveillance duties on Heather-because Snotlout was freaking out over the fact that he was going to be set up as a rival to the frankly murderous and utterly amoral Dagur. Fishlegs was netting what information he could from legal and less-legal sources and Hiccup had contacted Toothless to help him-though his friend had predictably been less than impressed.

"How are you?" Hiccup had asked.

"I'm holed up in the worst motel in the entire state," Toothless had told him shortly. "Even the cockroaches are checking out in disgust."

"How's the WiFi?"

"Your concern for my imminent death from food poisoning, fumes and mould is touching," the other man had grumbled. "It's adequate-the only reason why I chose this one over motels which scored even one star."

"So…anything useful?" Hiccup had asked. He knew he was pushing his luck but of everyone in his life, only Toothless knew exactly how personal this mission was. The other man had sighed and Hiccup could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Nothing has ever linked Heather Oswaldson with the family business," he admitted. "She has maintained a spotless professional persona. Even her dealings with the crime family are fully detailed in her accounts, which are filed a week early every year. Every last cent is accounted for. She offers advice and acts for them on a professional basis only."

"And you believe this?" Hiccup asked him dryly.

"I am certain she knows what business her family are in but there is no evidence that she is intimately involved in any of the more brutal acts of her brother."

"Absence of evidence is not evidence of non-involvement," Hiccup had reminded him and there was an exasperated huff.

"I know-but short of hacking their security system, I can't be sure," Toothless had told him. There was a pause.

"Do it," Hiccup had said. "I have to know."

"You with me, Fury?" Astrid asked him, gently touching his shoulder. He flicked and blinked himself back to the present.

"No sweat, Astrid," he told her roughly. "Though she doesn't exactly live the high life, does she? Apartment, work, court, office, court again, home."

"To her three million dollar apartment in the absolute best address in Berserk," Astrid had griped. "While we're here in this rather beat up Chevy with no heating." Hiccup smiled.

"You sound just like Snotlout," he commented.

"Do not!"

"Do too!" he smirked. "Look-no one is paying us any attention-and all we're doing is talking…are you saying this isn't keeping you warm enough?" She glared at him.

"I'd have broken Snotlout's hand for that," she commented and he smiled.

"But that would finish my chances of making the hit," he reminded.

"What, breaking Snotlout's hand?" she teased him and he stared at her-then burst out laughing.

"Maybe not his hand," he admitted with a smile and then nodded. "You think Fish was able to plant the phone tap?" She nodded, recalling her friend's anxiety at entering Heather's firm disguised as a telecommunications technician.

"He may not look like a traditional agent but he really knows his tech," she reminded him and he shrugged.

"I'll take your word for it," he conceded. "Shall we head back for a coffee? There's a cafe that doesn't look too dismal across from the office and we can maybe warm up there?" She smiled.

"I'd like that," she admitted as he started the engine and pulled out, winking at the pair of blonde sightseers across the road from Heather's office. On cue, the twins folded their maps and headed back to their camper van: they knew Hiccup had a plan.

oOo

"That's the third time this week that someone has interfered with our operations and ruined one of my deals. It's starting to get on my nerves, sis!"

"Dagur-I don't need to know any of this. There are legal means for dealing with people encroaching on your business transactions. Do you want me to exercise them?"

"And what? Ask the judge to hand an injunction against whoever is messing up my drug deals? Yeah, I can see that going well-as the brainless cops finally steam in at my confession of being a drugs dealer!"

"Not all drugs are illegal, mutton-head! You claim they were legitimate pharmaceutical products from Baldr's Drug and Therapeutics that you acquired two years ago."

"You think anyone will buy that?"

"You can claim commercially sensitive Phase Three Trial drugs and then the court cannot order you to reveal any details about the specifics of the drug in question."

"Do it…as soon as I find out who I'm supposed to injunctioning about the interference! And that other matter…?"

"Dagur-I'm not interested in what you get up to. I'll see you at the weekend?"

"Take care, sis."

"And…it's working," Hiccup commented, lowering the earphones, "You guys have done well, foiling Dagur's operations. And it sounds like it's starting to get him riled up. Especially when you hit the Skrill's Prey and shot it up."

"That was pretty satisfying," Snotlout admitted, stroking the baby moustache he had been studiously growing for the last week. It still bore a distressing resemblance to an anorexic balding caterpillar but it was the best he could manage-and Hiccup had been forced to admit that the man had stepped up when he had finally ceased bitching about his part in the mission. Fishlegs and Astrid had lent their support in the raids and no one had been any the wiser.

"One of my..contacts…has this for you," Hiccup admitted and handed a flash drive to Fishlegs. The man frowned. "He dabbles as well." As the finest handler and best friend a man could get. The special agent loaded up the drive and his eyes widened as the full extent of Dagur's operations was detailed-including ownership of the isolated lodge, the main compound in Berserk City…and a magnificent townhouse in Hysterical.

"This is new," he murmured. "There's a townhouse here…registered to Heather only…but all taxes and bills are paid for by the Berserker Organisation." His fingers danced across the keyboard. "Does your colleague have a point of contact? I would very much like to correspond with him…"

"I'll check," Hiccup murmured, his eyes trailing on the shape emerging from the offices of Oswaldson Law and Accountancy. Heather was beautiful, with her clear pale skin, green eyes and shining jet hair. There was a poise and elegance to her slender shape that would have attracted him had his heart not already been shattered by everything he had endured. "You know she is the gateway in?" Astrid stared at him.

"What?" she demanded as he leaned forward.

"What's in her diary?" he asked and Fishlegs scoured her computer.

"Meetings in the office all day tomorrow-except for lunch with a client who is a business acquaintance of Dagur at 1300," he reported. Abruptly, Hiccup rose.

"I need to see a couple of friends about tomorrow," he murmured. "Can you deliver a warning to Dagur at five to one that his sister is in danger? That the new syndicate are targeting her?"

"What? This wasn't in the plan!" Astrid snapped. "Look, we've been very patient but this is really getting far too far the wrong side of the law if you expect us to blow up…" He cast her an exasperated look.

"You don't need to do anything except make the call,' Hiccup said. "I'll do the rest. But I guarantee you, this should provide the opening we need." The blonde special agent stared at him for a long moment and then nodded, watching him leave. Then she turned to Fishlegs.

"Track him," she snapped. "I need to know what the Helheim he's up to. He's been lying to us through all this-and if we don't know what's going on, how on Midgard can we complete the mission?" Fishlegs looked up and his expression was troubled.

"Or bail out before he gets us all killed."

oOo

"You sure you want to do this, NF?" Tuff asked as the twins sat behind their camper van. They had parked up in an abandoned factory site and were currently sitting on deck chairs around a wood fire, cooking sausages on sticks. The hitman leaned back in his chair and chugged on a beer.

"What you got for me?" he asked, deliberately avoiding the question. There was a pause and Tuff handed him a very small Grimora pistol.

"This answer your question?" he asked shortly. "Look, not that we don't completely love blowing shit up-but this is getting real. You want to risk your life on this?"

"Dagur took away literally everything from me-and then he thought he took my life," Hiccup said grimly. "I was buried in a shallow grave on top of the corpses of my wife and son. And I barely survived-I was at death's door when Toothless found me."

"We helped extract you," Ruff reminded him quietly. "And we saw to the other arrangements." He nodded, wordlessly, his eyes unfocused as he stared into the flames.

"So you know I have to do this," he murmured. "Look, if I die, as long as I take Dagur to Helheim with me, I won't care." Ruff jerked to her feet.

"Don't you think other people might?" she snapped. "You may have lost your family, Hiccup-but you have friends, people who care for you, who have left their homes and businesses to help you in this quest so that you stand a chance of moving on."

He sighed, finishing his beer and tossing the crumpled can into the flames.

"There is no moving on," he said in a dead voice. "Once this is completed, I'm done. There's nothing left."

"Then we might as well pack up now, NF-because we aren't helping you commit suicide," Tuff told him shortly. "We're here to help our buddy avenge his family, not help him get himself stupidly killed. You don't have an exit strategy, then you don't go in at all. Understand?" He managed a mirthless smile.

"Since when did the crazy twins care about consequences of their actions?" he asked rhetorically. They shared a look.

"Since our friend developed a death wish," Ruff told him shortly. He shrugged.

"Crazy world," he commented. "I'm not trying to get killed, Ruff-because that doesn't finish what I've started. I need Dagur dead-because he killed them…and tried to kill me. But I also need to know how he found out who I was in the first place. My identity is secret, my records sanitised so special agents from BHS can't even unlock them. But he found out. How?" Tuff looked concerned.

"Are we in danger as well, Hicc?" he asked and there was a pause. It was a sticky issue.

"I'm off the grid-and, as far as I know, so are the agents with me," he said thoughtfully. "I mean, it's not exactly official departmental policy to execute criminals. I still think the rule of law comes into it somewhere…" Tuff shrugged.

"Probably," he conceded. "A long as blowing stuff up doesn't get outlawed as well." Hiccup shared a glance with the female twin that confirmed that law had been in place for a long time already and then he smiled.

"I was promised marshmallows," he murmured. "And more beer…"

"As long as you can do what you said-and you're not trying to get killed, we'll help," Ruff promised. "But you run into trouble and we will involve your agent friends-whether you want it or not!"

oOo

The next day was fine and bright and the people of Berserk were out and about early. The main Plaza in front of Oswaldson Law and Accountancy was packed and the gleaming building itself was shining in the brilliant light. Clad in silver-tinted glass, the structure was elegant with an overlapping scale design on the steel struts that formed the corners of the building and a line of spines along the line of the roof. The curled etching of a Razorwhip was emblazoned on the glass panels to each side of the entrance, catching the light as the doors revolved.

Heather emerged, a dark grey suit emphasising her slim figure as she strode out on her heels. her raven hair was braided over her left shoulder, her eyes fixed on her car which was parked a few yards down from the entrance in her personal bay. She glanced across the Plaza, seeing a group of Scouts being led on a field trip past the Town Hall and the statue of Percival the Petulant, her grandfather, who had also been a very respected Mayor of Berserk. She smiled and turned back to her car, lifting her keys to unlock the shiny black Mercedes.

She was hit at waist height by a body as the car beeped…

…and exploded. The blast slammed her and the person who had hit her back against the building, his arms cradled around her head, protecting her. Ears ringing, she realised her saviour had thrown her back just enough-though her briefcase was scorched and on fire. The young man was lying across her, blood tricking down his forehead from where he had been struck by flying debris. He was semiconscious and she pushed him off, staring at the burning hulk.

"Are you alright?" She glanced up as two of Dagur's minders surged forward and helped her to her feet, taking station at either side of the woman. She nodded.

"I-I think so," she said shakily, glancing down at the young man who had saved her.

"Dagur wants you gotten to safety," one minder said gruffly. "He just received a credible threat against you…" She snapped round, her green eyes sweeping over the man coldly.

"Yeah-that was useful," she told him coldly. "But maybe earlier would have been more useful?"

"Please, Miss-we need to get you to safety now," he insisted. her eyes slid down to the lean shape, moving blearily as the young man rolled over to stare up at her, emerald eyes unfocussed. His thick eyebrows dipped as he frowned in pain, a hand ghosting to the wound on his forehead, the blood scarlet against his pale skin. His tousled auburn hair framed his faintly freckled face and the sharp jaw and she turned to the minders.

"Bring him!" she ordered them coldly.

"But…"

"He just saved my life," Heather said. "Bring him with me."

"But we have no idea who he is…" the minder protested. Heather glared.

"Do you want my brother to know you disobeyed an order?" she asked him icily. The man wilted under her fierce gaze and hauled Hiccup to his feet, supporting the bleary man.

"What..." he mumbled. Heather rested a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay," she said gently. "You saved my life. I'm going to make sure you're looked after!" Then she nodded and he was helped into a waiting SUV, while Heather followed a few steps behind. The doors slammed and the vehicle sped away, wheels spinning as it raced past the burning hulk of Heather's car, with Dagur's sister and her saviour in the back.

Astrid lifted her phone and dialled Fishlegs.

"He's in," she said.