Twenty-One: Showdown

They dragged him out of the Berserker Compound and across the Plaza towards the hostel. The sun was up, the wind was gritty and he felt eyes on him as he was thrown to the ground, biting back a groan. Dagur walked past him, circling like a cat round a particularly stupid mouse. Then he kicked him, an unconscious yelp escaping as he buried his head in the crook of his arm.

"Well, old man, you're as stubborn as Ryder but you'll come to the same end. You're just right as a friend for that treacherous bastard!"

"Hooray for me," Leo mumbled thickly through bloody lips.

"You can make this easy," Savage suggested, motioning to two of his men, who grabbed the slumped and battered shape. "Just tell us where he is. It's stupid to put yourself through so much pain for a stranger."

But he's not: he's my nephew, my only surviving blood kin, Leo thought and shook his head slightly. The men dragged him to the front of the hostel and stared up at the sign, hanging from a pole sticking out from the side of the rackety building. They swiftly shot off the sign, then threw ropes over the pole and stung the man up by his wrists, the ropes tight as they hauled the lanky shape up, head bowed forward and legs-real and prosthetic-hanging limp. Dagur grinned and fisted the grey-streaked and blood-streaked auburn hair, hauling the battered face up. He stared into the scarred features and sneered...for a moment. On a whim, he pressed his hand over the left side of Leo's face and frowned.

"You know, from this angle, you like like him," the Berserker commented then grinned, pulling away, grabbing a rifle and hammering the barrels across Leo's middle. "That just pisses me off even more!" Groaning and twitching, Leo screwed his eyes shut and waited for the next blow. Vorg's laughter echoed across the Plaza as Dagur landed another hefty clout across his body with the rifle.

It had been a long night and a longer morning for Leo because the Berserkers hadn't let up. They had been brutal and determined but also measured...and they had been careful not to beat him senseless. There had been a lot of torments they had tried on their prisoner and Dagur had been astonishingly patient...but he was now showing signs that his patience was almost exhausted. And that meant Leo would probably end up being maimed or killed in the very near future...notwithstanding the fact Dagur had already broken most of his remaining fingers and beaten him to a bloody mess.

"I'd hate to ruin this rifle-I'd never get another one like it," Dagur murmured, gazing fondly at the weapon, the purplish barrel etched beautifully with a flock of Skrills in flight.

"Stop hitting me with the damned thing," Leo mumbled. Savage punched him in the back and he hissed in pain, arching his back as Dagur absently wiped a smear of blood from the metal and caressed it gently, ignoring the battered man hanging by him. "Okay, brothers...your turn to have some fun..."

Stoick and Fishlegs walked out onto the Plaza as Dagur walked to lean against the fence, his pale green eyes narrowing as he saw the people of Berk slowly emerge to watch the show. And it was a show, a demonstration of his complete mastery of the town and disempowerment of every other authority. The twins peered over the gate and saw the shape hanging-and they ducked down in shock as Savage ground his cigar out on the man's neck. His gasp was barely audible.

"Odin! It's Uncle Hopalong!" Ruff exclaimed.

"What in Loki's name is he doing here?" Tuff asked her, hearing the man grunt in pain after the sound of a blow. "He always meets by his sister's grave and never comes into town. How did Dagur get him?" Ruff peered over her shoulder and saw Vorg shake out a whip.

"Doesn't matter," she murmured, "because we gotta help him." They heard the Berserker scream for the location of Ryder and shared an alarmed look. "Crap. Get the dragon-I'll get our guns, Mutton-Head. If no one else is gonna stop this, then the Thorstons are!"

Stoick's eyes widened at the lean and battered shape hanging from the ropes, the bowed head showing the grey-streaked auburn of his brother in law...and he watched Vorg strike him with a whip. Dagur was standing in front of the prisoner, screaming questions at him and the only answer was a barely perceptible shake of the head. The Sheriff stared at the ugly scene in disgust: Dagur was torturing a man in the centre of town as if Stoick didn't exist...and he may as well not, for all the use he was. But this man was his wife's beloved brother who had given so much to chase down her killers when Stoick had abdicated responsibility.

...she loved you to the very end, Stoick, but she wouldn't have been too impressed with how you've performed since...

But almost all of Dagur's gang were in the Plaza, lounging around the helpless shape of Leo and Stoick was alone...he saw the twins pop up then duck down and he looked around the other citizens...but no one would meet his eyes. There was a shared shame that they were all watching a man being tortured and saying nothing. Another cry echoed across the plaza and Stoick flinched: he had seen what his brother in law had suffered in the past and the man was tough...but he was human. And Dagur would kill him.

His hand fell to the handle of his Colt and he took a single step forward...

...and then a huge explosion blew the Berserker house apart. The entire gang spun around in shock, staring as a second and third explosion demolished the main storerooms and the main gates. Simultaneously, three explosions sounded at the other end of town, the detonations reverberating through the town and a huge wall of dust billowing forward, swirling around the plaza and gradually thinning...to reveal the tall, lean shape of Ryder, his poncho moving slightly in the dry wind. His face was twisted in a sardonic smile.

"I hear you were looking for me," he announced. Dagur grinned as Leo forced his eyes open, the remaining green gaze darkening with despair.

"Go!" he mouthed.

"He's a dead man!" he scoffed, snapped the rifle to his shoulder and fired. Leo gasped and Stoick's eyes widened as the man staggered back and collapsed to the ground. But slowly, he got up and stared mockingly at the Berserker.

"What's the matter?" Ryder scoffed. "Losing your touch, Dagur?"

Frantically, Dagur fired at him again, the shots echoing through the plaza. Ryder stumbled back, arms flailing and hit the ground.

"Are you scared, Dagur?" Ryder mocked him, sitting up. "Aim for the heart or you'll never kill me!" As he got up Dagur shot him three more times and he staggered back, then fell once more. But as he got up again, Dagur backed off a pace, lowering his gun. The others were all muttering desperate prayers to Odin, Thor and anyone who would listen about the apparently unkillable man.

"Impossible..." he muttered as Ryder flipped his poncho up and snatched his own gun from his holster-then fired, each shot taking down a man before they even had a chance to react. A second gun was snatched from the second gun belt he was wearing as he tossed his own pistol aside and he took out another six men. Then behind him, there was a roar and the black shape of Toothless appeared out of the swirling dust. Ryder stood by the dragon, its maw filling with purple plasma, pupils narrowed to slits. Sliding two bullets into the chamber, he fired and the ropes holding Leo parted, dumping his limp shape on the dust. Then the gunslinger walked forward, flipping his poncho up and revealing a crude metal breastplate fashioned from the ore truck. There were six marks where Dagur had shot him-all over the heart. With an easy movement, he unhooked the protection and it hit the ground with a metallic thump.

"Well, Dagur?" Ryder asked him as Astrid and Stormfly landed out of range at the far end of town, with Gobber and Gothi on the distraught shape of Star touching down beside them. "How are you when it's just you, not a crowd of Berserkers or trappers to back you up?"

"Any time!" Dagur sneered, kicking Leo. Ryder stared at him and shot the man's rifle from his hand, then retrieved and reloaded his own pistol. All the time, Dagur eyed the Night Fury covetously. "My Night Fury," he stated. "You brought him back!"

"Wrong, Dagur-he's mine!" Ryder said firmly. "We have bonded. If you want him-if you want Astrid and Berk-you come through me!"

"Winner takes all?" Dagur asked coldly. Ryder lifted his chin.

"Well, loser's dead so, yeah, I guess so!" he said in a bored voice. Dagur walked cockily into the middle of the Plaza and faced Ryder.

"How's the hand?" he sneered. "Looked a little sore when Bucket broke it..."

"On three..." Ryder announced, ignoring the man's taunts and making sure he was ready, his stance secure and view unimpeded. "Sheriff? Think you could manage to count to three? Or is that past your meagre abilities as well?" Stoick took a couple of steps forward, his cold glare on the two men...

...one of whom was his son...

"ONE!" he announced, his hand still on his pistol. Ryder's emerald gaze was locked on Dagur's, seeing the man twitch, his eyes darting to his dead men-including the sprawled shape of Savage. And behind then, lying on the dirt and smeared in blood, was Leo...who hadn't broken, hadn't betrayed his nephew. The man's bleary gaze was resigned.

"TWO!" Dagur's fingers were twitching, his body taut. For Ryder, everything was slowing down: the swirl of dust, the sound of his breathing, the sight of Astrid, her eyes locked on his and filled with hope, the beads of sweat trickling down Dagur's face...

...his hand was painful, almost as much as his broken ribs which had been jarred by the impacts of the rifle shots. But being shot to death would be more painful. Losing Toothless would be agonising. Losing Astrid would be unendurable. His broken hand paled into insignificance...compared to that and to what Leo had endured to protect him.

It was time to repay the favour.

"THREE!"

The report of a gun echoed through the Plaza and Dagur stumbled back, his gun falling from his heavy hand. He glanced down, seeing an expanding patch of red on his shirt. Ryder kept his gun levelled at the man as he staggered back a pace and stared up in incomprehension.

"But...no one is faster than me..." he whined and pitched onto his face, dead. Breathing hard, Ryder walked forward, nudging him over with the toe of his boot, seeing the dead eyes staring up, still confused. Then he holstered his pistol and urgently dropped to his knees by Leo's side, wincing at the mess the man was in.

"Leo..." he breathed, his eyes filled with guilt and horror. "Gods-you should have told them what they wanted to know. I had Toothless. He would've protected me from them..." Groaning as he moved, Leo's eyelids twitched and the pain-filled emerald green met its twin: he fashioned a very weary smile.

"S'okay, Hiccup," he breathed. "I promised..."

Overhead, a shotgun poked through the shutters of an upper floor room in the hostel. Ryder urgently slid his hand under his Uncle, lifting him into a tender embrace. "Gothi's here-and Star," he murmured reassuringly. "We'll fix you up in no time..."

"Heard that before," he murmured as Stoick walked closer, his eyes filled with shock. Seeing the two men together-the matching body shapes, hair colours, eye colours, even facial features, notwithstanding the differences in age and in injuries-the Sheriff suddenly knew that Leo was right. The gunslinger...was his son. The shotgun stealthily lined up on the lean shape of Ryder below, bowed beside the freed prisoner...

And then a brace of shots rang out, Ryder stiffening and throwing himself across Leo...

...and through the upper storey window, Vorg pitched forward, flipping head over heels to land fatally hard on his back-had he not already got two equally-fatal bullet holes in his chest. He gave a couple of twitches...and then lay still.

Ryder looked up in shock as he heard the twins cheering wildly and bursting out onto the plaza, high-fiving and doing a ridiculous barn-dance in triumph. Fishlegs was cheering and there were claps and shouts of relief from the townspeople, assembled by the periphery of the Plaza. Astrid was shouting something and he cold see her and Stormfly beginning to run towards him. But Ryder's eyes were locked on the powerful shape of Sheriff Stoick Haddock, lowering his just-fired gun...