The Contract

11: A Change of Plans

Eleven: A change of plans

Hiccup advanced into the room, seeing what was essentially a ballroom with inlaid marble floor, smooth pink marble columns at the corners rising to the fresco'd roof. At the far end, there was a Regency desk with gold legs and claw feet, gold marble top and a deep red velvet throne facing away from them. The far wall had a sixty inch television screen boldly fixed amid the impressive 18th and 19th century portraits, behind the desk. And there was clearly someone sitting in the far chair.

"He's here," Heather announced. "Just as you asked."

"And the Meatheads?" The voice was a low growl, thick with menace. Concentrating on emptying his mind of everything but the mission, Hiccup faced the back of the chair calmly.

"They were Murderous," Hiccup said. "Madguts the Mincer and his crew. Disposed of now. As you asked."

"Good." The voice was guarded. "Alvin?" The big man had followed them in, his face locked in a scowl, his meaty fists clenched.

"All checks out," he reported. "You were correct, sir."

"Then act as I ordered," the voice said as Hiccup glanced around, seeing which guard's gun he would steal...and realising they were all staring at him, weapons in their hands and levelled at his chest.

"Er...Heather...I think there may be a problem," he said in a wary voice as Alvin unholstered his gun.

"Only for you," he said gruffly. "You ain't a Berserker, you ain't one of our men and we don't trust you!" But before Hiccup could move an inch, he felt the bite of a taser and a current surged through him. His hands clenched and his entire body arched...and then he slumped to the floor. Heather folded her arms.

"Okay," she growled. "You wanna explain what's going on now? And why my bodyguard has been tasered when he did everything you asked?" She peered at the chair as a bulky man with dark hair and dark eyes-who was definitely not her brother-emerged.

"There are a few things you need to know about your friend..." he said.

oOo

"What the Helheim happened to the coms?" Astrid snarled once they all got back to the miserable-and now crowded-room. Toothless frowned, then grabbed her com and leaned over it, fiddling away.

"Nothing wrong with them," was his verdict. "They've been jammed." There was a pause.

"Jammed?" Fishlegs echoed, eyes widening. "Who would jam us?"

"How about the Secret Service?" Astrid asked them sharply and every eye turned to her "There was someone watching the funeral-he had eyes and a gun on you all. Fortunately I was doing the same thing-but I was better than he was. I stunned and hogtied him-and he was definitely ASS. They were the guys who took off after you!"

"Those guys were ASS?" Snotlout commented and then shrugged. "What pussies!"

"Snot-they shot a rocket at us!" Fishlegs told him irritably as he lay back on the bed.

"And blew up a tractor!" Tuff reminded them. "That was awesome!" Sharing a look with Astrid, Toothless frowned.

"The Secret Service is under the direct control of the President and is dedicated to his protection," he mumbled. "So why were they watching the funeral of two Murderous gangsters? And why did they attack you guys?"

"We did shoot up a funeral," Snotlout reminded him proudly.

"What we?" Ruff asked pointedly. "You were dozing in the hearse! Fury took them out and we were the getaway car...hearse..."