"Hiccup, get over to your office immediately. I don't care if you were effectively fired or not. We need to talk. Meet me in my office as soon as possible," Sigrid finished, then hung up and set down her phone on the desk in her office.

Turning in her seat, she looked at her boss, who was standing on her right, near the edge of her desk.

"Good. Now Sigrid; you're suspended effective immediately. As of now, you are effectively fired. You will only be reinstated following an investigation of you and your employee which will occur as soon as I clean up after said employee and his cohorts. But that's a discussion for later. Take the day off."

"Hold on a minute; you think I have something to do with this? With Hiccup?"

Else Frost paused by the door and turned back to face Sigrid. "If there is anything for me to find, you have a day to cover your tracks. Doing so would prove to me that you are willing and at least partially capable of fixing things. That is a commendable but increasingly rare trait in this day and age, wouldn't you agree?"

…

Astrid lowered the hood of her grey hoodie as she sat down. It was raining outside, with a ferocity typical of Berk, so she was thankful for the American-themed cafe.

However, as she took a seat across from one Gustav Larson, she could almost taste his sadness.

She could relate; she still felt sad for the same reason.

"Hey, what do you want? I'll order you something."

The answer she got back wasn't an order. "Shouldn't you be working to find the people who killed your sister; my girlfriend?"

"The rest of the police force would do that better than I can on my own. My dad in particular, being a detective. Regardless, it's my day off."

Gustav faced her then, having been staring out of the window until now. His eyes burned with fury, his fists were clenched and his voice carried an edge. "Why?" He practically hissed.

"The last time a Hofferson went off to investigate on her own, she-" Astrid's breath hitched and she swallowed. "-she died. Gustav, I want to find the piece of shit who killed my sister just as much as you, but I also don't plan on dying. Going solo or even having a partner and no further backup is what brought us here."

"Are you saying it's hopeless?"

"No. This situation is anything but hopeless. More difficult than hopeless I'd say."

"So Where's the hope?"

"My dad. The police force working together as a unit. That's really it."

"Right…" Gustav resumed watching the window, on which rain was cascading down. "This isn't working. I need a distraction. Would you like to join me at the gun range?"

"Sure you can handle being around guns right now?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Astrid stared at him.

"No, I'm not that depressed. If I thought I couldn't handle myself around guns anymore, I'd sell the range to someone else."

"Alright then, good. You go on ahead, I have to make a call first."

Gustav nodded, got up and left. "See you there."

…

Viggo, upon hearing a knock on the door, opened it to find one Else Frost with a briefcase.

A briefcase that was open to display all the money contained within, neatly arranged into stacks.

"Let me not mince words, Viggo Grimborn. The DDIS is in a war. We need a soldier. I have fifty thousand in this briefcase. Are you in or are you out?"

Viggo crossed his arms. "Who are you exactly?"

"Else Frost. I believe you knew my predecessor, Johann Trader."

"…I did, before I retired. Assuming I accept that large sum and start working again, what would you have 'soldier' do?"

"Find and kill Fishlegs Ingerman; discretely if possible. He is the priority."

"But not the only one."

Else nodded with a smile, pleased. "Yes, your targets include Hiccup Haddock's colleagues."

Viggo quirked an eyebrow. "And Hiccup?"

"He is out of the picture for now. Mala tells me he turned himself in. He's on a flight to Storstrøm Maximum Security Prison as we speak."

Viggo sighed. "How vexing. Alright, now about that money-"

"You'll get it at the end of the day. You ought to get out of retirement and get started on this job."

"Very well. I'll need some men."

…

"It's good to have my boys with me, tonight, for a change."

Hiccup raised an eyebrow at Gobber. "You only have one godson."

A cheeky grin was sent his way. "Not any more, laddie."

Aage and Fishlegs, sitting on Hiccup's left, on the pier with him, upon hearing this, both snickered.

Hiccup rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Look what you've started now. They'll never let me forget what you said."

Gobber shrugged unperturbed and took a swig from the bottle of beer in his good hand. "Payback for quitting the army without letting me say goodbye."

Hiccup mirrored the action with his drink. "Fair enough I guess."

"What's the situation with Aleksander? Are you and Cami ready to make him official?"

Hiccup shook his head. "Still busy with cleaning up after Drago, Dan and Kasper. Give it a month to get rid of the stragglers and then we can move our focus to Iceland and the mayor."

"A month?!" Aage exclaimed. "Hiccup, we can't possibly deal with all that's left in that time!"

"Ye of little faith. Which is ironic since you're a Christian. I have a plan."

"Should we take cover?" Fishlegs interjected.

"They certainly should. We're going to be fine though," Hiccup assured.

"Hmm. That's good," Aage mused, with a swig of his beer.

"I know I've asked this before, but should you be drinking that? Isn't that against your religion's rules?"

"It is in certain contexts, yeah. Counterpoint: 'Let him who does wrong continue to do wrong; let him who is vile continue to be vile; let him who does right continue to do right; and let him who is holy continue to be holy. Revelation chapter twenty-two, verse eleven'."

"Counterpoint, accepted."

"That's good," said Gobber, as he got up, phone in hand, leaving his half-empty beer bottle on the ground. "Now boys, I gotta head out. Sigrid is summoning me."

"Tell Sigrid not to disturb us boys on our off day."

"Ironic coming from my workaholic godson."

"We're back to singular now?" Hiccup deadpanned. "Thought you had more than one godson."

"You're still my favourite."

"Aww thanks. Good luck with whatever Sigrid wants."

"Have fun, boys."

Gobber limped away, and as soon as he was gone, Hiccup knocked back the rest of his beer, then snatched up Gobber's bottle and wiped the top clean with the hem of his shirt.

"Slow down there, Hiccup."

"Nope, I intend to get drunk tonight. This is a celebration now."

…

There was a jolt and Hiccup jerked awake. He soon became aware that he was in a plane which had just landed at an airport, specifically Copenhagen Airport, waking him up in the process.

He then sighed and spoke under his breath. "If only that night ended as a celebration, instead of how it actually went."

Then he stretched, as much as he could while sitting with handcuffs on his wrists.

"Quiet," his guard said, sitting two seats down the aisle from him before his attention returned to the magazine he had been reading. "Quit moving around."

Hiccup stood up and stretched more fully, the chain between his handcuffs going taut with a snap, the sound drawing the guard's attention again. He then approached the guard, who instinctively reached for the pistol in a holster at his hip.

"Get back."

Hiccup did no such thing, instead, you could say he did the exact opposite by stepping closer; though he did at least stop in his tracks as he reached the guard, who by then had his USP 9 out of its holster and pointed his way.

"I suggest you don't annoy me. I am already quite close to strangling you with these handcuffs. Don't push me. Today is not the day for you to find out just how dangerous I can be."

…

Bekker was brushing her hair, sitting in a bathrobe at her desk in her old room when the door opened behind her.

Glancing up at the mirror in front of her, she found it was her mother. "Hey mum."

The matriarch crossed her arms. "What are you doing?"

Bekker blinked. "I'm… brushing my hair…?"

"No, I mean, what are you doing? Why are you pretending to go along with that witness protection thing your father decided on? Why aren't you telling us how you really feel?"

"I…" Bekker sagged, setting down her brush and looking at her mother in the mirror. "Am I that obvious?"

"Enough that your father was also able to pick up on it and sent me to ask you about it. Sweetie, talk to me. How do you really feel?"

Bekker sighed. "I want to go after him."

Her mother nodded, a smile breaking out. "Then you best go do it."

"Really? You're okay with it?" Bekker checked, turning in her chair to look at her mother properly.

A headshake was the response she got before her mother elaborated. "No. Certainly not after your 'friend'-" Her mother emphasised the word with finger quotes. "-showed what he could do to a person, namely you, dear," She sighed then continued. "But I also know I can't stop you, and with your Jæger training, I'd rather not find out the full extent of your capabilities."

"Okay," Bekker nodded. "I'll go get dressed and go. But I'll say goodbye properly this time."

"I'll hold you to it. Now, get dressed, finish your hair and I'll drop you off at Europcar."

Bekker nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

…

Dear Mrs Bank. I am writing to you today on a matter concerning the failings of one organisation in your government.

As you may know, as a result of the news, details of my prior occupation were recently leaked by a superior while in the employ of the DDIS.

This act - which served to effectively make me unemployable - in addition to numerous deaths caused by their inaction and incompetence has made me conclude that the organisation has long overstepped its boundaries.

I request in light of working to protect your son the previous year, that you strive to enact change for the sake of the people from my hometown of Berk who died as I previously alluded to. I ask this not merely for my own sake and that of Berk, but that of my fiancé in particular, and the son or daughter that she has been carrying for a little under a month at the time of writing.

Nobody; certainly no child should be raised in a world as dangerous as the one I am familiar with inhabiting and so I know the dangers more than most.

In summary, I want the DDIS to leave Berk. That organisation is causing more harm than good. As for me, I would like a pardon, but with my past misdeeds in the news for all to see, I understand that such a thing would be impossible. So instead, I ask that you pardon the names of several friends of mine, who are comparatively innocent. Their names are as follows, in no particular order: Astrid Hofferson, Camicazi Berthadottir, Sandra Gade, Fishlegs Ingerman, Heather Oswaldson, Aage No-Name, Sigrid Hofferson, Helga Ingerman, Malte Ingerman, Bjorn Hofferson, Gruffnut Thorston, Gustav Larson, Sofie Bekker, Josephine Kai, Aleksander Monrad, Ludvig Balle, Rebecca Balle, formerly Juhl. If you wish to speak to me in person in regard to the subject of this letter, then at the time this letter reaches you, I will likely be interned at Storstrøm maximum security prison.

"This is an… interesting letter you've brought me, Ernst," Mette Bank mused, setting down the letter on her desk in her office after reading it aloud. "What is my schedule looking like at the moment? Anything besides that press conference, this evening?"

"Nothing until then, ma'am. What would you like me to do for you?"

"I want you to look into the people listed in this letter. I want to know their employment and criminal history if they have one to speak of. Also, bring the limo out. I have someone I want to speak to in person."

"Yes ma'am."

…

The sun was setting when Else Frost made a call. "Your time is almost up, Viggo. Report."

"Regrettably, I must inform you that Fishlegs is long gone. My guess is he escaped early in the morning, on the first ferry to Skagen. His parents and Heather; the daughter of the former mayor of Berk appear to have also fled, in addition to a young woman named Sandra Gade, one of our drone operators. Similarly, Aage No-Name, a former soldier and abductee and two more of our agents, Ludvig and Rebecca Balle. I would suggest bargaining with Hiccup Haddock, as he may know where they are all headed. He certainly holds all the cards it seems. Oh, and feel free to keep the money. If you need my help again, as I suspect you might, you will need that sum again."

Viggo heard a scream of pure rage, followed by a dull thud and crack as some part of her phone broke against something tougher.

"If you can still hear me, Else Frost, you ought to reign in that temper. That is one trait that Hiccup Haddock excels at, despite what you may come to think from how he talks."

…

It was dark out when Cami's car pulled outside her house and she and Anne got out.

"Ready to celebrate a day gone well?"

Anne hefted a six-pack of beer against her shoulder with a smirk. "You bet."

They entered the house, where Cami, who was first to enter, turned to her friend. "I'm going to put on different clothes. Living room is through there. Be right back."

"Alright," Anne shrugged and entered the living room as directed, but not before watching Cami traverse the staircase to the upper floor.

It was a security measure Hiccup had proposed the year prior; that DSIS personnel keep an eye on each other as much as possible, particularly in the wake of the likes of Drago and Kasper.

So it was for this reason that Anne observed her friend, then moved in the direction of the living room with haste, intending to put down the pack of beers she had brought.

But being hasty can cause problems in itself. And for Anne, her problem came in the form of a transparent plastic bag enveloping her head, followed swiftly by her assailant tackling her to the ground.

Her attacker was stronger even when she heard the unmistakable sound of zip ties being tightened, first around her neck, then around her wrists.

She lashed out on instinct but achieved nothing except to feel cold metal press against the base of her skull.

"If you can hear me, heed this warning: Move again and it'll be your last action on this earth."

…

When Cami stepped into the living room a few minutes later, she froze at the sight that greeted her.

"I know what you did," said Viggo, reclining on a couch while another man stood above Anne, her head wrapped in a plastic bag.

Both men had pilfered a bottle of beer each from the six-pack that Anne had bought and…

She wasn't moving.

"The fuck did you do?!" Cami exclaimed, her brain catching up with the sight and taking a few steps towards Anne, only for the man standing near Anne to point his gun at the blonde.

Viggo snapped his fingers, drawing her attention from the gun back to him. "I know what you did. The DDIS does not. Do you understand what that means?"

Cami's eyes closed and she sighed. "Yes… I can't talk to anyone about this."

"Correct. Torben, give our host a beer. We are guests after all. It would only be fair."

At the same time that this was happening, Else Frost pressed a finger to the intercom on her desk.

"Sigrid, are you still here?"

"Yes," came the reply, after a minute had passed.

Else Frost had been about to leave when she heard it, and so sat down at her desk again. "Good. I can let you know that I'm not going to fire you. I've reflected on the situation and it is clear that I need as many hands on deck as possible. Can you bring me everything we have on Hiccup Haddock? I need to understand him if I'm going to fix things here."

"Good for you. I want a raise."

Else Frost glanced at the briefcase propped up against the left wall in her office. Her decision was swift. "I have one hundred thousand danish krone on hand at the moment. If we have a deal, bring me what I asked, post haste."

"…We definitely have a deal. I'll be in your office with everything you need in thirty minutes or less, boss."

"That's the best news I've heard all day."