Slowly getting through the next chapter of To Mend A Soldier, but in the meantime, enjoy this Christmas present, from me to you.
But before you unwrap this present, I should mention that this story will be updated once a month/whenever I have a chapter available as my final university year progresses. Also, I may have more for you all to read soon, if things go to plan. Stay tuned everyone.
…
Hiccup pressed a finger to the intercom system on his desk. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am happy to announce that Aleksander is in the clear; he has done a total of zero background misdeeds."
Hiccup heard Sigrid sigh in relief. "Hurrah for small mercies. Who wants to do the honour of telling him he can become mayor now?"
"Why not you, Sigrid? You were the one who opened an investigation on him in the first place after all," Hiccup reminded.
"That's true. Very well, I will."
With nothing else to add, Hiccup reached for the envelope which had arrived at noon.
It was of course open already, having been opened shortly after arrival, but then Hiccup had been flooded with work relating to the mayor-to-be for the next two hours until this very moment at 2:15, where he could at last return his attention to its contents.
Out slid a collection of pictures taken in Iceland.
Hiccup then stood and approached the wall to the left side of the room. Pinning all three pictures to the wall, he stood back to observe them.
Each displayed a particular building from three different angles. The front entrance led to a gravel road, the back entrance opened out into a garden and a close-up view of a window, through which the foot of a king-sized bed was visible.
A knock on his office door brought observation of his photo gallery to a halt. Opening it, he waved Naja in.
"Before you ask, I was just looking at the pictures."
Naja nodded, then faced the pictures in question. "Think we can make a move?"
"Yeah, I think we have a photo of every place he goes. We can prep to get her out. After that, things will get… messy, on my part. You might not want to stick around for that."
"I'll go tell the others then. And for the record, I'm not squeamish. I can handle the sight of blood."
"I can say with certainty you can't handle the sight of torture though. Few people are ready for that."
"True enough I guess. So listen; I'm being sent to Afghanistan."
"I see. Well, pack plenty of suncream. And I suppose I'm not allowed to ask what you'll be doing over there."
"That's usually how it goes, Henry," Naja said before smiling. "But I'll send you a postcard if you want."
Hiccup rolled his eyes fondly. "Hilarious. Now I have someplace to be, so this is where we part ways. I'll be sure to see you off, though."
…
"What's in the bag?"
Hiccup slumped into a chair in front of the soldier's desk. "Hello to you too, Lieutenant Colonel Ulf. It's a faux pas not to say hi after not seeing someone for over a year."
"Get on with it. I'm a busy man. Why are you here?"
"I want to borrow some of your-"
"No. You already have Bekker on your side."
"She put herself down as a reserve of her own free will."
"Bullshit. You two arrived together. You talked beforehand. Tell me why I should hand over some more Jaegers to you?"
Hiccup reached into the bag which lay underneath his side of the table between them. "I'd reconsider after looking at this, sir."
He had placed a newspaper between them, which Ulf snatched up. "Shootout at Hela Crest Cemetery. Gang war to blame," he read, then looked to Hiccup. "How is this relevant?"
"Does the name Drago Bludvist mean anything to you?"
"Not off the top of my head, no."
"Well, it should. Check your records. A little book thief told me Drago is a jaeger from times past. I'm sure you can fill in the blanks."
Ulf blinked. "Book thief. As in 'bog tyv'?"
Hiccup shrugged. "Bit of a long story. Call it an inside joke if you want. Anyway, you get the gist."
The colonel set down the newspaper. "So this Drago Bludvist is a Jaeger and involved in a shootout, and you want me to lend you other Jaegers to either deal with him or prevent the leaking of his involvement. Which is it?"
"The second one. If this leaked, it would paint the Jaegers in a bad light, which neither of us want. I just couldn't think of any other way to convince you. It should go without saying that I will lend them back to you, whenever they're free."
"Then I suppose my hands are tied. Who do you want?"
…
"So, how'd it go?"
Hiccup was all smiles as he turned to his fellow redhead. "Let me put it this way: I believe you owe me a twenty, Sofie."
"Your luck is improving. Great," she slapped the money to his hand before continuing. "Remind me not to make bets with you again."
"Now what would be the fun in that? Let's go find our former colleagues, shall we?"
"While we do that, are you interested in another bet?"
Hiccup eyed her warily. "…Depends. What's the bet?"
…
"Here you go, the newspaper of the day. That'll be one twenty," said the shopkeeper, addressing a man in a shirt, tie, black trousers and trench coat.
"Alright," the man murmured, and set about procuring the money.
"Chilly day out, isn't it?" the newsagent muttered, as he rubbed his hands together.
The man paused, his hand in his trousers' left pocket. "Are you new here? It's usually always cold in Berk."
"That obvious, huh?" the newsagent pondered with a slight smile.
"Yeah. Here, we complain when it rains or hails, but we're used to the cold. Where are you from?"
"Belgium. I'm used to rain, but ice and snow don't agree with me."
"Welcome to Berk then. Brace yourself for the hail; we get that a lot this time of year," he replied while handing over a few coins.
"Thanks for the warning. Bye now."
With that, the two parted ways, with the newsagent staring after the man as he left his shop and crossed the road.
His destination was an outdoors cafe, empty but for three individuals; one blonde woman, one redhead woman and a guy with no hair at all.
Pausing for but a moment, the man sat down at the table the redhead occupied, before glancing at the front cover of the newspaper he had ordered.
Fishing in a pocket, the man sighed and placed a five-krone note on the table, directly in front of the redhead. "If you act smug, I'm getting a water bottle and spraying you in the face with it, Sofie."
As he spoke, his breath formed a white mist which quickly dissipated.
"You were the one who didn't believe me, Henry," said Bekker, her breath intermingling with Hiccup's as she transferred her earnings from the table to a pocket.
"Because one would assume the leader of the country to have some form of brain, or at least an ear for her advisors - those in charge of the army anyhow. But no, here we are, about to pull soldiers out of a country that can't stand on its own against the Taliban. What could possibly go wrong there?"
Bekker raised both hands in a placating manner. "I'm not going to defend Mette Bank's decisions; not when she helped me win a bet."
"A really small bet," Lam deadpanned, from the next table over. "One might even say it wasn't worth it at all."
Bekker stared over Hiccup's head at the bald man. "It's for bragging rights, Frederick. Not necessarily because I needed the money. I won against the Fishman at something, so I'm happy."
Hiccup quirked an eyebrow. "Is that all our friendship is worth? Extortion for bragging rights?"
"Apparently so," chimed in Kai, sat at a table behind Bekker. "I feel sorry for you, on behalf of the rest of us Jaeger's."
He gave a solemn nod. "Thanks, Josefine. See Bekker, Kai is nice. You could learn from her."
"Yeah, yeah," Bekker waved a hand dismissively. "That'll happen when you get married and forced to sleep on the couch. Then you'll get my sympathy."
"Fair enough. Wanna bet they send us folk back to 'hot and dusty' by the end of the week? I bet five krone they'll do it after Thursday but before Saturday. Or at least I hope so, or Odin help the person that informs my fiance that the wedding is delayed and possibly postponed due to a sudden case of death by IED on my part."
"You better not die like that. We better not survive Afghanistan only to get murdered by Astrid when I show up with the bad news."
Hiccup raised a finger into the air. "Death by irate blonde, huh? I can think of worse ways to go."
"Such as?"
"Explosion. In your case, with you being bi and attracted to her, I'm sure you two could come to some kinky arrangement. If I die, have at her. I can't complain in that case."
Lam coughed. "Should I go tell Astrid this?"
"Save it for when I'm married, Frederick. That way, I'll be forced to sleep on the couch but get sympathy from Bekker before my possible demise by IED, saving me from the bother of having to make up with her and giving ketchup-top a path to her heart. Win-win."
They all laughed, and Bekker wiped her eyes before speaking when the laughter subsided. "Smart, Fishman. I approve of this plan."
Hiccup smiled. "That was the idea."
…
In Iceland, a man and a woman were holed up in a building. It was a small building; consisting of just two rooms, one above ground and the other below. The main room could be considered sparsely furnished; containing little more than a couch, a single window with curtains half-drawn across it, a plasma TV on one wall, a computer and a shelf purposefully placed to conceal a trapdoor, leading to the basement where numerous firearms were being kept.
The room could be considered quiet, up until it suddenly wasn't.
The window exploded. Shards of glass were sent everywhere and the man was killed instantly.
The woman was not. Very much not.
Covered in blood and bits of glass, she screamed herself hoarse.
She was still screaming when a figure dressed entirely in black kicked down the door and entered with three others who shared his appearance. The first figure looked at the screaming woman from behind his balaclava, shook his head and dealt a punch that at last silenced her.
Hiccup sighed from behind his mask, looking over the slumped form of his victim. "I definitely didn't miss that aspect of this job. Frederick, help me shift this one away from the corpse. Bekker, Kai, see if you can find anything useful and then all of you clear out. I'm going to wake this one up, shortly."
"Is she the person we're looking for?"
"Yep. Introducing our photographer on the inside. Frederick, Kai, say hello."