The Contract

5: Dagur's City

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.