In The Archipelago's Secret Service

6: Final Warning

Chapter Six: Final Warning

The next morning, Hiccup presented to AI6 HQ as ordered, cleaned up as best he could with his bruised face and painful ribs. He had showered and shaved and was wearing his good deep red shirt. The only saving grace was that if anyone saw him, they'd just assume Astrid kicked his ass in his combat exam.

Human Resources was sited in the third floor and Hiccup presented five minutes early, his green eyes anxious. The young male agent on the desk-a bug-eyed rather vacant young man known as Fergus but nicknamed 'Fungus'-looked Hiccup up and down with an unpleasant smirk and quietly informed the head of HR that his eleven o'clock appointment was here.

Mildew made Hiccup wait a further twenty minutes before calling him in, a clear ploy to Hiccup's mind to unsettle him. Finally, Fungus beckoned and Hiccup stood up, squared his shoulders and walked into the office. Mildew was sitting behind his wide metal and glass desk, glaring at the young man, a folder open on his desk. He gestured, a stabbing motion that direct Hiccup to a single chair, set lower so that he would look up at his interviewer like a naughty school kid. He lifted his chin, his green eyes locked on the older man's mean and cold face. Mildew narrowed his eyes and gave a nasty grin.

"Hiccup, Hiccup, Hiccup," he sneered. "Yet again, I'm seeing you in front of me because yer screwed up!" Hiccup suppressed a groan.

"Does this seem at all unfair to you?" he asked.

"What seems unfair-boy-is that perfectly good people are denied a place in AI6 because we are keeping on an utter screw-up just because yer precious Daddy is our Chief." Mildew's tone was scathing.

"I'm not completely useless!" Hiccup protested. "I passed the entrance aptitude testing, I took and passed every course I was told to...and several that were only mentioned in passing, I qualified in combat and in weapons..."

"Yeah...I see yer actually qualified as a marksman...good scores, considerin'..." Mildew commented, idly flipping through the pages of Hiccup's file. "But yer don't follow orders, yer argue and yer cause chaos..."

"I..."

"Yer destroyed Q department!" Mildew accused him.

"I did not! I wiped out my own desk!" Hiccup protested hotly. "I was employed to develop new weapons and devices by Gobber-sorry, Q-and these devices are dangerous, because they are meant to be. I am sure someone...or sometwo...messed with it and armed it so when it was knocked...it detonated."

"Wiping out Q department!" Mildew sneered. "And then there was the hoax."

"IT. WAS. NOT!" Hiccup shouted, rising to his feet. "Gods damn it, Mildew! Eret is in trouble. Has he called in? If not, where is his tech? And his tracker? I am the only Gods-damned person in this Gods-damned place who cares that VA1 may be in mortal peril and wants to rescue him!"

"Sit down, boy, or I'll end this interview now," Mildew sneered and Hiccup glared at him for a long moment before reluctantly sitting down again, breathing hard. "You know, you have a bad attitude, an inability to follow orders and a complete disregard for what your superiors tell you. Haven't yer ever considered that when yer told ter do something, it may be because there is a plan already in motion, boy? Why d'yer think that you, the wannabe agent who almost destroyed HQ, knows better than the Chief and the senior staff? That yer can interpret coms data and protocol better than Heather? That yer can invent better tech than Gobber?" Hiccup stared at him, his cheeks flushed with anger at the scornful tone.

"I know what I have found out," he said evenly. "How can you as an agent ignore this intelligence?"

"Yer see? That arrogance is gonna get other people killed," Mildew sneered. "And then there was the little matter of how yer nearly blew up the entire HQ! In yer selection interview? I mean, how incompetent are yer, boy?"