"Turn to the right."

Bekker did so.

There was a bright, but short-lived, flash of light.

"Turn to the left."

Bekker did so.

Another flash, just like the first.

"Face forward and hold still."

Bekker did so and there was one last camera flash.

Then Bekker observed a figure step into the room beyond the glass. Whoever it was, conversed quickly with Astrid, and whatever was said displeased her greatly, if the way she flailed her arms was any indication.

She stormed out to enter the room where Bekker stood, wrenching the door open as she did so.

"Follow me. Now."

Astrid left without another word, and Bekker had to hurry to catch up, dropping the Mugshot sign behind her as she darted forward.

Stepping into the hallway, Bekker looked left and right, espying Astrid's braid as she rounded the corner further along the hallway on Bekker's right.

"Waiting for something?" A voice to Bekker's left prodded.

Cami stood with arms crossed and a half smile. "C'mon, we shouldn't keep Astrid waiting; she's already not happy if you can't tell, and I want to stay on her good side. Don't you?"

Bekker simply shrugged. "I saw her go this way," she announced, then finally raced down the hallway, Cami hot on her heels as they rounded the corner, spotted the white tiled room where Astrid waited with growing impatience, her left hand tapping away at the surface of the table in front of her and her right hand cradling her chin as she leaned on it.

"About damn time. Both of you sit."

They sat.

Astrid quirked an eyebrow at Cami. "Well? Fucking, get on with it!"

"Chill. I'm simply borrowing Bekker here-"

"A murderer and ensuring she won't go to prison where she belongs."

"-and assigning her a task, for which she needed a criminal record."

"What," said Bekker, her teeth scraping together. "The fuck."

"I think you heard me," Cami stated. "I need you to ensure that Dan's organisation crumbles and Hiccup, Fishlegs and Aage aren't here. You were my only option."

"Did you decide this before or after you told me to lay low and offered me your house to stay at?"

"Before. Yes, I lied. I'd do it again if I had to. It's what I'm good at."

"That'll be a million."

Astrid perked up at that, and Cami paused. "What?"

"A million danish krone. That's my fee to do what you need me to."

Cami stared. "You know you're destined for prison if you don't do this, right?"

"Yes. But like you said, I'm your only option. And the way you handled this thing tells me that you want Dan handled quickly. So I'd hurry to wire the money if I were you."

Astrid's features bore great amusement as she nudged Cami's shoulder with an elbow. "I have to say, I'm loving how shrewd she's being right now. Reminds me of my fiancé."

Then she sobered up, gazing intently at Bekker. "Get her the money. I think I speak for Mala when I say that I want you both gone, immediately."

With a groan, Cami conceded, reaching into a pocket for her phone.

As she did so, Bekker drummed her fingers on the table between them, hiking a brow as she looked Astrid in the eye. "What's got you in a bad mood just now? You know Viggo wasn't my first kill, right?"

"Viggo kills someone and instead of calling the police, i.e myself or my Dad or even Mala herself to arrest him for murder, you decide to kill him. If that was the end of it, that would be fine. But the part that pisses me off is that Bekker gets to walk free and potentially kill others - as I assume that's why you need her, Cami - with no likelihood that she will return to prison. And to top it all off, she's getting paid."

Astrid paused, glancing at Cami. "Have you paid her?"

"Do I look like a bank? No. My mother needs to sign off on all that money so it'll take time-"

Astrid growled low in her throat.

Cami rolled her eyes. "-But we can handle that later. Let's go."

As Cami and Bekker stood, Astrid continued, glaring at the latter. "In my eyes, you're now no better than the man who killed my sister. After this conversation, don't even think to approach or call me or Hiccup. We're done. Got it? Not to mention that I'll have you arrested if I see you while on duty again."

Bekker sighed, looking Astrid in the eye. "My condolences for whatever it's worth, but what's done is done. By all means, hate me for it, but I would do it all over again."

Astrid stood up, face red as she stormed past Bekker and out of the room, practically snarling as she went. "You can shove your condolences up your ass then."

Bekker sighed again. "Well that bridge is burned beyond repair. Let's go."

…

Water stretched as far as Rebecca Balle could see, under a cloudless sky. She had left her husband, Ludvig, sleeping on the lower half of their bunk below deck, and climbed up the ladder before finally proceeding through a door to the bridge where Aage sat at the controls, motionless.

She might have assumed he was sleeping, were it not for the fact that he spoke up as the door clicked shut behind them both.

"Shouldn't you newlyweds be getting it on? There's a reason I've been keeping out of your way. I wasn't aware that I was being subtle in my intent."

"You consider us newlyweds? We've been married for half a year."

"Until someone else I know gets married, you're newlyweds."

"Hmm."

Aage peered at her over his shoulder. "Alright, what do you want to say?"

"Why did you leave your friends behind? I've gathered you, Henry and Fred were childhood friends. So why…?"

"Are you familiar with Steve Rodgers?"

Rebecca stared blankly.

"Captain America."

She blinked. "Oh! I've seen the first movie. Not really had the time for the rest because of my job. And then it all seemed too much to get into."

Rebecca saw Aage's lips curl up into a smile. "I can fix that. Well anyway, you may remember him being put on ice and waking up, then feeling out of place in modern day New York, finding that just about everyone he knew was dead. Do you remember how he reacted?"

"He ran away from those people, um…" Rebecca placed a hand on her head as she tried to think back.

"Shield."

Rebecca nodded. "Yeah, them. Who's the black guy with the eyepatch again?"

"Nick Fury, played by Samuel L Jackson."

"I knew the actor's name. Who could forget him?"

Aage snorted. "I didn't think it possible to forget a character as distinct as Nick Fury but you did, so I think anything is possible. Now, where was I?"

"You were saying something about how Captain America relates to you?"

"Oh yes. I'm in Steve Rodgers boat, no pun intended. Picture how he felt and then imagine how much worse it would be if he found that his parents had ensured he was in that position."

There was a long moment of silence following this statement, broken only when Aage turned in his seat to look at Rebecca and found she was fidgeting with her hands, interlacing her fingers repeatedly, clearly unsure of herself.

"I…I can't relate, sorry. I never knew my parents. I'm an orphan. Same as my husband. I'm not even sure what to say. I mean, I know you hated your parents for what they did. You made no secret of it, but-"

"-You can't put yourself in my shoes."

"Yeah… sorry."

Aage shook his head, facing forward again. "Don't apologise. Not your fault. But hey, I'm an orphan now, so I guess I can relate to you."

Rebecca gave a weak smile. "Thanks, I guess. H-how does that work for you? Living with having killed your parents? We've established I never knew mine, but you… and you're apparently a Christian as well, so how…?"

Aage looked at her for a long moment before he answered. "Alright, let me tell you something which some people on twitter don't seem to consider: Christians can get angry. We are human after all. We try to hold ourselves to a high standard, but we can fail. Case in point, me. I'd like to meet any Christian who has failed in this regard more than me. Does that answer your question?"

Rebecca nodded slowly. "So you got angry once you found out what your parents did. Perfectly understandable."

"I think you're understating that. I was livid. I was furious. I became the hulk. I became two-face without the facial burn. Any of those would describe the experience better."

She simply shrugged. "Maybe. But as long as you can keep your anger in control - which you seem able to do, surprisingly considering the circumstances - then there's nothing for me or Ludvig to worry about, wouldn't you agree?"

"Well yes, but-"

"Then it's settled. I'll make sure neither of us walk on eggshells around you, but if it happens, I apologise in advance."

"You're afraid of me," said Aage.

It wasn't a question, but Rebecca answered with a nod regardless.

"Well, you'll be pleased to know that I find staring at the waves cathartic."

"That's a relief," a new voice said from behind Rebecca, at the same time that the speaker, Ludvig wound his arms around her and nuzzled against her neck. "Woman, I missed you. Come to bed with me?"

"Yes, please take her with you. And if possible, keep the noise down. This is a Christian boat but I can make a compromise so long as I can pretend you two aren't about to get frisky. Captain's orders."

Rebecca gave a salute. "Aye, aye Captain."

Then with a smirk, she twirled around in Ludvig's arms to face him. "Think we can be quiet, lover?"

Ludvig smirked teasingly at her in turn. "I don't know. Can you?"

The slap he received to the chest was well worth it in his estimation.

"Can you two get out of here already? Go keep an eye on Dan while you're at it, like you're supposed to!"

"He was unconscious last I checked, but I'll check again," said Ludvig. "C'mon beautiful," he added, tugging on his wife's arm and getting to hear her mild laughter as they left the bridge, heading back below deck.

Once they were gone, Aage returned to the captain's chair.

With a sigh, he put his head in his hands. "Calling me a Christian? What a joke."

…

Bekker perked up when the ferry port to the Danish mainland came into view. "Cami, this isn't the right way to the DDIS building. I told you I needed weapons."

Cami kept right on driving. "You're not going to Iceland. That was just an excuse to get you out of police custody. You're going to do something else, and for that, you need to be in Skagen."

"What? What do I need to do over there?"

"You're going to pay some folk a visit for starters."

"Who?"

"You'll see," Cami didn't elaborate further, much to Bekker's displeasure.

Once over in Skagen, Cami pulled up outside a different DSIS building.

"What's so special about this one? You know there's one on Berk already."

"Visiting, remember?"

"And once again, who?"

Cami popped open her door. "Shut up and let's get inside. You'll find out once we're there."

Bekker threw her arms out, exasperated, but followed suit.

Inside the building, there was a set of turnstiles and a guard, conversing with-

"Fishlegs? What are you doing here? And why?"

Fishlegs and the guard glanced at her before the former looked at Cami. "You didn't fill her in?"

"Thought it be best if I did that after she got here, and met up with the others."

"Alright," Fishlegs nodded. "Well to summarise," he continued, looking back at Bekker. "I'm here, because I and others are on the run. You're here, to help us with something."

Bekker's teeth ground together. "With. What. Exactly? I want an answer quite soon."

"You're going to help us break someone out of prison."

"And you haven't mentioned who because it's Hiccup, I take it?"

"No. It's Bob the Sled."

"Right… well, I'll be going," she looked at Cami. "The deal's off. Keep the money."

Cami, the guard and Fishlegs each drew their guns on her. Bekker hadn't expected that of the latter. She didn't even know Fishlegs had a gun on his person, to begin with, but he had; which he drew from the waistband of his jeans, concealed by his shirt.

"If you step out that door, and the DDIS find you, you'd be putting me and my family at risk, so I can't let that happen."

"Wait what? How would me being essentially a criminal affect you?"

There was a beat of silence where Fishlegs and Cami stared at each other.

"You didn't even tell her that?"

"I thought we established I was leaving the explanation to you."

Fishlegs rolled his eyes, then faced Bekker again. "I aired out the DDIS'S dirty secrets, so now me, Sandra, Heather and my parents are all fugitives."

Bekker made a noise of understanding. "Well, what now? Even if I wanted to help, I can't. I was never trained to break people out of prison. Or rather, not without resources. Do you even have a plan?"

"Yes. I'd bet my life on it in fact. Heather, my parents and Sandra are all on board. We all agree it's better than being locked up in here, fugitives to our own country."

"Then I'd say you should fill me in. It's not like I have many options at this point."

"Plus, the money," smirked Cami.

Bekker shrugged. "Yes. That too."

Fishlegs handed his gun to the as-yet-unnamed guard and nodded, pleased. "Good decision. We're heading east at sunset so you best follow me and get all caught up."

…

The warden of Storstrøm prison, situated as he was in a tower at the centre of the compound, could see many things, namely the majority of the cell blocks in the prison and the prisoners whenever they mingled outside, as well as the road leading up to the prison, on which the occasional van could be seen, bringing supplies to assist in the day to day running of the facility.

Rarely ever was there a multitude of vehicles on the road, much less a motorcade. Therefore, it appeared that today was a special day, as police cars roared up the street, two in front and two behind with lights and sirens on, escorting three black Range Rovers with tinted windows and a limo up to the prison entrance.

The warden immediately turned to the head of security, who fortunately was present in the room with him. "Go find out what's going on down there. Escort our guests up here if they request it."

The man left at once with not a word spoken and only a nod in response. When he returned to the warden's office, there was sweat on his brow.

"W-we need to release him, sir," the guard panted. "Orders from the Prime Minister and the Ministry of Defence."

"Who?"

…

In his cell, Hiccup was lying on his bed, staring out the window when he was alerted to what almost sounded like a stampede marching down the hallway in his direction.

He rose from the bed and made his way over to the door, poking his head out to find out what was happening.

The procession, which included the Prime Minister, stopped just outside his cell, and from beside the head of state, a man stepped forward.

"Mr Haddock?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

"Herman Borg, from the ministry of defence. Having read up on your experiences over the last year, I am at your service to make things right for Berk. In that vein; you're free to go, sir."

…

Fishlegs's phone started ringing. He took it out of his pocket. "Hello?"

"Fishlegs, stop whatever you're doing. Postpone any plans you might have as I'll soon be able to assist."

"You got out? Congratulations, amigo."

"Yes. Turns out the plan worked. I'm at Copenhagen Airport so I should be there in two hours, by five PM at the latest."

"Copy that. I'll make sure Cami and Bekker don't scheme together again."

"Yes, please do. See you soon."