Fic: Alternative Dispute Resolution (2/3) (Daredevil)
Fandom: Daredevil
Rating: PG
Characters: Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson, Kirsten McDuffie, Wilson Fisk, Jamie Madrox
Words: 3,955
Summary: Matt's world is crumbling around him. Jubula has thrown him a lifeline, but the price for taking hold may prove too high!
Genre: Friendship, Angst
Warnings: None
Notes: After making "this speculative post" the bunnies would not leave me be. So... here's a somewhat AU version of the end of Volume 4 #15... Some of the original dialogue in #15 has been lifted for insertion.
Spoilers: Daredevil Volume 4, #4, #15
Timeline: Daredevil Volume 4, #15
Alternative Dispute Resolution
Chapter 2
Kirsten is glad that Foggy isn’t bugging her to check the time every five minutes. She is checking the time every five minutes, but that’s different. Matt is counting on her. She’s not about to let him down. But she could cheerfully strangle anyone else keeping up a steady stream of “Is it time yet? How much longer?”
She checks her watch again and looks over to where Foggy is leaning back on the couch. He’s almost diagonal, perched on the edge of the seat cushion, with his shoulders pressed back into the upholstery, his legs out, and his feet flat on the floor. Sitting like that can’t be good for his back, but Foggy’s a grown man and he can make his own choices. Still, she has to ask, “Are you comfortable in that position?”
He smiles. “Actually, yeah. You should try it.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Your loss.”
Another few minutes pass in companionable silence. Then Foggy asks, “Is it just me, or is it really stuffy in here?”
She considers. It’s only about 52 degrees outside, but the cabin is warmer, he’s wearing a heavy sweater and the window blinds are drawn for safety’s sake. “I can put on the AC if you need it,” she says.
“In other words, it’s just me.”
“Yeah. But I can still put the AC on.”
He shakes his head. “I can manage. How cold is the water?”
“Not exactly swimming conditions,” Kirsten says lightly. She breaks off in realization. “Not that it stopped Matt. But then, he didn’t have to go far.”
Foggy shakes his head again. “You don’t think he’ll end up with pneumonia on top of everything else, do you?”
“Well the suit’s waterproof.”
“And hideous.”
“You said it; I didn’t.”
They share weak laughter. Kirsten checks her watch. “Okay.” She unplugs her cell phone from the charger. “It’s time.”
“Good luck.”
He feels a sense of déjà vu, as he watches Kirsten key in the deputy mayor’s number. “Charlie?” she says. “It’s Kirsten McDuffie. I... I need a favor. After what happened today,” she hesitates, “I... think Matt’s snapped. Something like this happened back in New York, too; we thought it was a one-off, but now... I really think he needs psychiatric help. When he ran out of here, he was going on about how he knows that the Kingpin abducted a woman named Julia Carpenter, he’s learned where she’s being held, and if he can get to her then everything that happened today goes away.”
Foggy has to hand it to Kirsten. She’s playing her role to the hilt. Even if she is borrowing a lot of the words he used that time when he was drunk and scared for Matt for real.
Kirsten takes another breath. “But here’s the thing. Kingpin-Wilson Fisk-Matt’s told me he’s dead. So either he’s losing his grip or...” She gives Foggy a thumbs-up. “No, I don’t have an address, I...” she lowers her voice and speaks more sadly. “Yeah, I get that the police are already looking for him. I just thought you might need to know... yeah. Right. I guess it doesn’t help that much.”
She hesitates. “Charlie? You know that for all his heightened senses, Matt’s still blind, right? He couldn’t have known what the woman he was with was wearing. Or what the creeps who took your daughter were.” There’s a longer pause. “I understand. It’s just... something else to think about. Thanks. If I hear anything else, I’ll let you know.” She ends the call.
She takes a deep breath. Then she smiles at Foggy. “I hope Matt just heard the Shroud bellow. I wish I did.”
Foggy laughs for a moment. Then his expression sobers. “You went off-book at the end. That bit about the costume.”
“I know,” Kirsten nods. “I thought maybe she’d calmed down enough by now to listen to reason. Plus, I didn’t think that the Shroud would be paying much attention to what I was saying at that point.”
“Did it work?”
Kirsten sighs. “Maybe...” She opens one of the galley cabinets and pulls down a few canned goods. “Damn. Waiting to hear how the rest of this plays out is going to take forever. I’d pop open a laptop, but...”
“Yeah,” Foggy nods. “Welcome to my world.” He takes his own cell out of his pocket. “Here’s hoping this is safe to use now.” He punches in the number Matt gave him and sends a quick text. “Well,” he ventures, “at least we won’t be waiting alone...”
I’m glad the new suit is as well-armored and well-insulated as the old one was. I can’t say I’d like the idea of shivering and shaking in the Kingpin’s presence and going back home to change would be out of the question. I have to assume that the police are staking out my house. If they weren’t before, they will be as soon as Kirsten makes her call. Assuming Shroud lets it through.
I make a quick stop on Minnesota Street on my way. The first time I moved out here, there was a six-week period where Tasha was working undercover as an administrator at USCF. If I was in the area when her shift was nearly over, I’d call her from the pay phone outside the Esprit a block away, to find out if she wanted some company. ‘Company’ being code for ‘backup’ while she did some more investigating. Really, I’d just call because I wanted to hear her voice.
Well, silly nostalgia, but when I settled here this time, I went by some of the old haunts, including that one. The pay phone was still there. Not the exact phone; this one takes cards. I haven’t checked the balance on my current prepaid. I’m hoping there’ll be enough for a quick long distance call. It’s not that land lines are unhackable. They absolutely are. However, the fact that it’s a public phone means that the Shroud probably won’t notice my call, until it’s too late. I hope. Just like I hope that Jen Walters was exaggerating about how... eccentric the guy I’m calling is. The first thirty seconds of the call do not bode well. Then I tell him what I need and I’m relieved when he sobers up.
He’ll be here a lot faster than I was hoping. It’s an hour and twenty minutes in the air from LA to San Francisco, but he tells me he has a few favors he can call in. I try to hide my surprise. I only know this guy by reputation; we’ve never met. I’m an Avenger, he’s an occasional X-Man... I think. We move in completely different circles most of the time. Truth be told, I was half-expecting him to politely tell me to ring Tony Stark. Not the worst idea, but every time I think of Tony, I get this surge of anger and I have no clue as to why. Besides, Tony is pretty conspicuous. After everything that’s gone down today, I want this kept low-key. If Foggy’s right, Kingpin’s probably sending a team to collect Foggy and Kirsten as soon as he knows I’ve left the boat. (I have to assume he knows where we ended up. If the Shroud is working for him, it’s a safe assumption. If he isn’t, I can’t imagine it would be hard for him to find out that Kirsten’s dad owns a yacht and figure out that it’s probably the best place to hole up, with Foggy’s safe-house compromised.) And while I’d like to call out an army to protect them, this guy is the next best thing to it.
Once the arrangements are made, I hang up and make my way to Fisk’s San Francisco headquarters. My suit’s mostly dried off by now. So’s my hair; buzz cuts have their advantages. There’s no point in surprising him. He knows I’m coming. I walk in the front door. I don’t have to feign resignation. As much as Kirsten, Foggy, and I have tried to take steps, I know that Kingpin might still have me right where he wants me. I’m staying focused on that, mostly because Foggy’s commented that my acting skills leave a bit to be desired. Show confidence, show cockiness, show the slightest hint that I might have an ace up my sleeve, and he’ll know something’s up. So, it’s with an air of despondency that I walk in the front door.
I spot the two goons waiting for me as soon as I’m inside. Massive, though not quite as big as their boss. They come up on either side of me and one of them orders me to spread my arms. I comply. The frisking is no more invasive than what I’ve put up with in the past, when visiting clients on Ryker’s Island. It just feels that way. I want to resist with every fiber of my being, especially when they confiscate my cane-though I can’t blame Fisk for being cautious. Same thing with my phone: I’m not going to get the opportunity to make any recordings. It’s not until they each seize one of my arms and frog-march me into the elevator that I realize that this whole thing really is designed to intimidate me, to drive home exactly how desperate my position is, to see whether I’ve got any vestige of pride left at this point. To get to where I’m going, I need to convince them I don’t. Individually, each security measure is a reasonable precaution. Collectively, each petty humiliation is calculated to remind me how badly I need his help. I wish I could know for sure that he’s wrong about that.
When the doors open, the goons haul me down the corridor. My feet barely touch the ground. My arms will be sporting massive bruises by tomorrow, if they aren’t already. At the end of the corridor, they release me and push open a set of double doors. He’s inside, standing next to his desk, his heartbeat calm and steady. To his mind, at this moment, I pose no threat whatsoever.
“Mr. Murdock,” he almost purrs, “I’ve missed the pleasure of your company. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”
“What was that?” Foggy whispers, coming fully alert in a moment.
The call is repeated. “Ahoy, there! Permission to come aboard?” The thing is, the call seems to be coming from above deck, not alongside. Kirsten and Foggy exchange looks. Then, Kirsten opens a drawer in the galley kitchen and pulls out a knife.
“There’s a storage compartment under your seat,” she tells Foggy. “Dad keeps a baseball bat in there. It’s a personalized Louisville Slugger; if you hit anyone, try not to smudge the autograph.”
Foggy swallows hard, but he lifts the seat cushion and retrieves the bat. “You know, if it’s Kingpin’s people, this won’t stop them for long,” he says.
“Sh!” Kirsten opens the cabin door a crack. She can see two people above deck; a man who appears to be about her own age, and a girl in her late teens. She pulls it open wider.
“Not so loud,” the girl is saying. “My teleportation’s good, but I can’t guarantee this is the right boat. If they take us for burglars and call the cops-”
“I know. Last thing we want. Eh...?”
The girl has spotted them and she’s gripping the man’s arm and is gesturing toward the cabin.
The man grins at them. “I don’t suppose one of you sent a text to 555-9636 in the last half hour?”
Foggy clears his throat. “That would have been me.”
“Mr. Nelson, I take it? And... Ms McDuffie? It is ‘Ms,’ right? Not Miss or Mrs.?”
They both nod.
The man looks at his companion. “It’s the right place; I’ll take it from here. Thanks, Magik.”
“Any time. Now, I’ve really got to run.” So saying, she waves her hand. The air shimmers and a round doorway hangs in midair. She steps through it and it closes behind her.”
The man smiles at Kirsten and Foggy’s somewhat bewildered-somewhat nervous expressions. “She’s Doctor Strange’s student. He’s got this thing about punctuality. Don’t judge her too harshly. Hi, I’m Jamie Madrox. Daredevil said you could use me.”
Foggy looks him up and down. “Um... no offense, but...” He breaks off. “Never mind.”
Jamie laughs. “What, I don’t look tough enough? Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure I can handle any non-powered threat well enough.”
Kirsten takes a deep breath. “Let’s hope you’re right. But just in case you aren’t,” she holds up her knife with one hand and gestures to the bat in Foggy’s hand, “we’ll hold onto these.”
“Suits me fine. So. While we’re waiting, how about bringing me up to speed on everything else that’s been going on? I understand from one of my dupes that there’s a whole legal kerfuffle?”
Foggy snorts. “That’s one way to put it.” He frowns a bit, wondering what Jamie means by ‘dupes’.
“Well,” the newcomer says, “entertainment law is more my bailiwick, but I might know a thing or two that can help.”
“Maybe later,” Kirsten says. “Right now, we’ve got other things to-Ah!” A bright line shines directly into her face and she closes her eyes and turns away. The light stays on her. More search lights sweep the deck, fore and aft, locking onto Jamie and Foggy.
Foggy moves quickly to the rail, the spotlight following him all the way. “We’re surrounded on three sides,” he says quietly. “There’s a boat portside and starboard side that weren’t there when we got here. There’s that one,” he waves fore, “blocking us in and the harbor at our back. I’m willing to bet that these aren’t fishing boats that took a wrong turn.”
“Roger that,” Jamie says. “Let’s get started then.” He stomps his foot and suddenly, there are two of him. He repeats the procedure with identical results. “I guess I should have warned you,” he admits, punctuating each word with another stomp, “but introducing myself as ‘Jamie Madrox, The Multiple Man’ just feels so pretentious. How many of me do you need in order to feel safe?” He leans closer with a paternal smile.
Kirsten blinks at the thirty identical Madroxes. Then she smiles. “I think this is enough for a start. However,” she adds, “make one more condescending crack and I’ll stamp on your foot myself.”
“Company,” one of the duplicates calls. Grappling hooks attach to the rail on the opposite side of the boat and a boarding party starts swinging toward them, hand over hand.
“Got any boiling tar?” another one asks.
Without waiting for an answer, the Madroxes spread out around the railing. The men climbing the ropes freeze, confusion and concern warring on their faces, as they realize that they are facing far more people than they’d bargained for.
When one, in panic, fires a gun, a Madrox takes hold of Kirsten and Foggy and steers them below deck. “If it comes to it,” he explains, “my dupes are expendable. You two aren’t. Hold onto those weapons, sure. Use ‘em if any of those creeps make it down here. But Matt asked me to make sure you two stay safe. I don’t want to let him down.”
This time, he’s not being patronizing. Kirsten and Foggy both nod.
“Okay. So, as I was starting to ask when we were so rudely interrupted, what else is going on?”
Sitting here now, practically smelling the confidence oozing out of his pores, I can’t help remembering the last time he tore my life apart. Again, he didn’t take me on face to face; he went behind the scenes and took everything away from me, piece by piece. My career, my reputation, my home... about all he left me were the clothes on my back and some smoldering rags that had once been my costume. I made a number of mistakes that time. Yes, including lurching into his office when I was anywhere but at my best and thinking I could beat him into giving me my life back. (No need to wonder why that’s been on my mind for the last little while, I suppose.) But that wasn’t my biggest mistake.
Kingpin separated me from everything that was important to me, but it was my choice to break away from the people. It would be nice to be able to say that I was nobly making that sacrifice so that Kingpin wouldn’t hurt them to get to me. Sometimes, I even think I’ve convinced myself. But truthfully, it probably had more to do with pride-not wanting to admit how lost I felt, how badly I was hurting; and fear-back then, Foggy didn’t know I was Daredevil and, somehow, even though my worst enemy knew the secret, I was still scared of how my best friend would react.
It’s easy enough to say that I’ve grown since then, except that once again, here I am, trying to make Kingpin give me back my life, when he’s probably the one who wrecked it in the first place. He has no reason to do so. And, as Foggy pointed out, if my main reason for approaching him now is to keep the people I care about safe... it’s not going to work. Or, at least, it wouldn’t if I were still trying to shoulder this load on my own. But I’m not. Foggy and Kirsten are in the loop. Thanks to them, I’ve made a few modifications to my original playbook. I just hope they’ll be enough.
And now, Kingpin is sitting across from me. I might not be able to see the expression on his face, but I can feel him gloating. He’s sure he’s got me right where he wants me and I’m not positive he’s wrong. But I’m not going to knuckle under without a fight.
“I must say I was somewhat surprised when you initiated contact, Murdock,” he rumbles. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I think you know,” I say steadily. Of course that’s not enough.
“Perhaps. But I would still like to hear you say it.”
Foggy was right about one thing, at least. He does want to watch me squirm. The last thing I want to do is give him the satisfaction, but then, since I’ve been told that my acting skills leave a lot to be desired, I’m hoping that my reluctance will work for me. I tell him what the Shroud has done. He doesn’t seem surprised. When I’m finished talking, he laces his fingers together and flexes them. He rolls his chair fractionally closer, as though he’d be only too happy to crush me were the desk not between us. “You have suffered a number of reverses,” he says slowly. “Serious ones. But what has any of this to do with me?”
I take a deep breath. “Other people have been hurt by the disclosures,” I say. “Good people. I can’t protect all of them. I was hoping that there might be some way to spin what’s happened so that the impact to them is mitigated.”
“Ah. And for yourself?”
I shake my head. “I’m not fool enough to ask. Or think you’d be interested in helping me on that score.”
“I see.” There’s a long pause. When he speaks again, his voice is almost benevolent. “Actually,” he says, “there might be a way for us to help each other. I am presently in California to deal with various legal matters. Zoning issues, various civil suits that have been slowly working their way through the system, an appeal or two. While you’ve long been a thorn in my side, I’ve been impressed in the past by your acumen in the courtroom. It would be sheer shortsightedness on my part not to take advantage of your skills in that area for reasons of personal animosity.”
I let my jaw drop. I’m not really surprised at anything he’s saying, but I want him to think I am. “I... can you fill me in on the details?”
“In time,” he sounds amused. “In time.” He cracks his knuckles. “I’m well aware of your scruples, Murdock. I don’t expect you to compromise them. But my organization is vast and I’m sure that I can find various matters that would benefit from your attention, and should not offend your... sensibilities.”
“And in exchange,” I say, “you’ll protect my clients. And my current partner comes through this unscathed?”
“Both your past and current partner will enjoy my protection for so long as you uphold your end of the bargain.”
I will never underestimate Foggy’s insights again for as long as I live. I take another breath. “And you’ll release Julia Carpenter?”
For the first time, his heart beat spikes. “I beg your pardon?”
I smile. “I think you heard me.”
“I grant you that I’ve been looking for her,” Kingpin says, raising his hands, with his palms down. “A favor to another in my employ. But, regrettably, I have no idea where she is.” He lowers his hands to his lap.
For an instant, I wonder whether I overplayed my hand. I don’t think he’s lying. But while his heart rate is stays steady, I can smell his perspiration and I hear him wiping his palms on the linen fabric of his trousers. He may have no idea where she is, but that doesn’t mean he’s not holding her.
“I’m not convinced,” I say softly. “Perhaps the Shroud will be when he arrives.”
The sweat smell grows stronger. I’m willing to bet that he’s been briefed on Max’s abilities. “If he is,” Kingpin rasps, “your first duty in my employ will be to defend me against him.”
I shake my head. “Sorry. Much as I appreciate your efforts to accommodate me, I’m afraid I’ll have to turn your offer down.”
He chuckles then. “Do you seriously believe that you have a choice?” His good humor vanishes, leaving nothing but steel and ice in his voice. “Listen to me, Murdock. While we’ve been been discussing your future, I have already begun upholding my commitment. At this moment, Mr. Nelson and Ms McDuffie are enjoying my hospitality. They will continue to do so for as long as you remain in my service. But if you should refuse or should you perform your assigned tasks with anything less than your maximum effort...”
I just hope that Madrox came through. If he didn’t, I’m in real trouble. So, once again, I’m not feigning nervousness when I say, “I think you’re bluffing.”
He pushes something toward me. I reach for it and realize that it’s my cell phone. “Why don’t you call them?”
My own hand is sweating as I punch in Kirsten’s number. She picks up on the second ring. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” I smile. “How are you holding up?”
“We’re doing okay. There was some excitement earlier, but it’s been taken care of.”
My smile grows wider as a wave of relief washes over me. “Kirsten, I’m going to put you on speaker, okay? There’s someone else with me who needs to hear how you’re doing.”
I don’t miss the low growl in Kingpin’s throat as I press the button. “Could you repeat that last bit, please? For a bigger audience?”
This time, there’s more than a hint of amusement in her voice. “Sure. Foggy and I are fine. That security detail you sent us did the trick. Will you be coming back soon?”
Before I can answer, the office window shatters as someone swings into the room. I recognize the silhouette before I track the heart beat. The Shroud has arrived.
This entry was originally posted at http://dragonbat2006.dreamwidth.org/44965.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Rating: PG
Characters: Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson, Kirsten McDuffie, Wilson Fisk, Jamie Madrox
Words: 3,955
Summary: Matt's world is crumbling around him. Jubula has thrown him a lifeline, but the price for taking hold may prove too high!
Genre: Friendship, Angst
Warnings: None
Notes: After making "this speculative post" the bunnies would not leave me be. So... here's a somewhat AU version of the end of Volume 4 #15... Some of the original dialogue in #15 has been lifted for insertion.
Spoilers: Daredevil Volume 4, #4, #15
Timeline: Daredevil Volume 4, #15
Alternative Dispute Resolution
Chapter 2
Kirsten is glad that Foggy isn’t bugging her to check the time every five minutes. She is checking the time every five minutes, but that’s different. Matt is counting on her. She’s not about to let him down. But she could cheerfully strangle anyone else keeping up a steady stream of “Is it time yet? How much longer?”
She checks her watch again and looks over to where Foggy is leaning back on the couch. He’s almost diagonal, perched on the edge of the seat cushion, with his shoulders pressed back into the upholstery, his legs out, and his feet flat on the floor. Sitting like that can’t be good for his back, but Foggy’s a grown man and he can make his own choices. Still, she has to ask, “Are you comfortable in that position?”
He smiles. “Actually, yeah. You should try it.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Your loss.”
Another few minutes pass in companionable silence. Then Foggy asks, “Is it just me, or is it really stuffy in here?”
She considers. It’s only about 52 degrees outside, but the cabin is warmer, he’s wearing a heavy sweater and the window blinds are drawn for safety’s sake. “I can put on the AC if you need it,” she says.
“In other words, it’s just me.”
“Yeah. But I can still put the AC on.”
He shakes his head. “I can manage. How cold is the water?”
“Not exactly swimming conditions,” Kirsten says lightly. She breaks off in realization. “Not that it stopped Matt. But then, he didn’t have to go far.”
Foggy shakes his head again. “You don’t think he’ll end up with pneumonia on top of everything else, do you?”
“Well the suit’s waterproof.”
“And hideous.”
“You said it; I didn’t.”
They share weak laughter. Kirsten checks her watch. “Okay.” She unplugs her cell phone from the charger. “It’s time.”
“Good luck.”
He feels a sense of déjà vu, as he watches Kirsten key in the deputy mayor’s number. “Charlie?” she says. “It’s Kirsten McDuffie. I... I need a favor. After what happened today,” she hesitates, “I... think Matt’s snapped. Something like this happened back in New York, too; we thought it was a one-off, but now... I really think he needs psychiatric help. When he ran out of here, he was going on about how he knows that the Kingpin abducted a woman named Julia Carpenter, he’s learned where she’s being held, and if he can get to her then everything that happened today goes away.”
Foggy has to hand it to Kirsten. She’s playing her role to the hilt. Even if she is borrowing a lot of the words he used that time when he was drunk and scared for Matt for real.
Kirsten takes another breath. “But here’s the thing. Kingpin-Wilson Fisk-Matt’s told me he’s dead. So either he’s losing his grip or...” She gives Foggy a thumbs-up. “No, I don’t have an address, I...” she lowers her voice and speaks more sadly. “Yeah, I get that the police are already looking for him. I just thought you might need to know... yeah. Right. I guess it doesn’t help that much.”
She hesitates. “Charlie? You know that for all his heightened senses, Matt’s still blind, right? He couldn’t have known what the woman he was with was wearing. Or what the creeps who took your daughter were.” There’s a longer pause. “I understand. It’s just... something else to think about. Thanks. If I hear anything else, I’ll let you know.” She ends the call.
She takes a deep breath. Then she smiles at Foggy. “I hope Matt just heard the Shroud bellow. I wish I did.”
Foggy laughs for a moment. Then his expression sobers. “You went off-book at the end. That bit about the costume.”
“I know,” Kirsten nods. “I thought maybe she’d calmed down enough by now to listen to reason. Plus, I didn’t think that the Shroud would be paying much attention to what I was saying at that point.”
“Did it work?”
Kirsten sighs. “Maybe...” She opens one of the galley cabinets and pulls down a few canned goods. “Damn. Waiting to hear how the rest of this plays out is going to take forever. I’d pop open a laptop, but...”
“Yeah,” Foggy nods. “Welcome to my world.” He takes his own cell out of his pocket. “Here’s hoping this is safe to use now.” He punches in the number Matt gave him and sends a quick text. “Well,” he ventures, “at least we won’t be waiting alone...”
I’m glad the new suit is as well-armored and well-insulated as the old one was. I can’t say I’d like the idea of shivering and shaking in the Kingpin’s presence and going back home to change would be out of the question. I have to assume that the police are staking out my house. If they weren’t before, they will be as soon as Kirsten makes her call. Assuming Shroud lets it through.
I make a quick stop on Minnesota Street on my way. The first time I moved out here, there was a six-week period where Tasha was working undercover as an administrator at USCF. If I was in the area when her shift was nearly over, I’d call her from the pay phone outside the Esprit a block away, to find out if she wanted some company. ‘Company’ being code for ‘backup’ while she did some more investigating. Really, I’d just call because I wanted to hear her voice.
Well, silly nostalgia, but when I settled here this time, I went by some of the old haunts, including that one. The pay phone was still there. Not the exact phone; this one takes cards. I haven’t checked the balance on my current prepaid. I’m hoping there’ll be enough for a quick long distance call. It’s not that land lines are unhackable. They absolutely are. However, the fact that it’s a public phone means that the Shroud probably won’t notice my call, until it’s too late. I hope. Just like I hope that Jen Walters was exaggerating about how... eccentric the guy I’m calling is. The first thirty seconds of the call do not bode well. Then I tell him what I need and I’m relieved when he sobers up.
He’ll be here a lot faster than I was hoping. It’s an hour and twenty minutes in the air from LA to San Francisco, but he tells me he has a few favors he can call in. I try to hide my surprise. I only know this guy by reputation; we’ve never met. I’m an Avenger, he’s an occasional X-Man... I think. We move in completely different circles most of the time. Truth be told, I was half-expecting him to politely tell me to ring Tony Stark. Not the worst idea, but every time I think of Tony, I get this surge of anger and I have no clue as to why. Besides, Tony is pretty conspicuous. After everything that’s gone down today, I want this kept low-key. If Foggy’s right, Kingpin’s probably sending a team to collect Foggy and Kirsten as soon as he knows I’ve left the boat. (I have to assume he knows where we ended up. If the Shroud is working for him, it’s a safe assumption. If he isn’t, I can’t imagine it would be hard for him to find out that Kirsten’s dad owns a yacht and figure out that it’s probably the best place to hole up, with Foggy’s safe-house compromised.) And while I’d like to call out an army to protect them, this guy is the next best thing to it.
Once the arrangements are made, I hang up and make my way to Fisk’s San Francisco headquarters. My suit’s mostly dried off by now. So’s my hair; buzz cuts have their advantages. There’s no point in surprising him. He knows I’m coming. I walk in the front door. I don’t have to feign resignation. As much as Kirsten, Foggy, and I have tried to take steps, I know that Kingpin might still have me right where he wants me. I’m staying focused on that, mostly because Foggy’s commented that my acting skills leave a bit to be desired. Show confidence, show cockiness, show the slightest hint that I might have an ace up my sleeve, and he’ll know something’s up. So, it’s with an air of despondency that I walk in the front door.
I spot the two goons waiting for me as soon as I’m inside. Massive, though not quite as big as their boss. They come up on either side of me and one of them orders me to spread my arms. I comply. The frisking is no more invasive than what I’ve put up with in the past, when visiting clients on Ryker’s Island. It just feels that way. I want to resist with every fiber of my being, especially when they confiscate my cane-though I can’t blame Fisk for being cautious. Same thing with my phone: I’m not going to get the opportunity to make any recordings. It’s not until they each seize one of my arms and frog-march me into the elevator that I realize that this whole thing really is designed to intimidate me, to drive home exactly how desperate my position is, to see whether I’ve got any vestige of pride left at this point. To get to where I’m going, I need to convince them I don’t. Individually, each security measure is a reasonable precaution. Collectively, each petty humiliation is calculated to remind me how badly I need his help. I wish I could know for sure that he’s wrong about that.
When the doors open, the goons haul me down the corridor. My feet barely touch the ground. My arms will be sporting massive bruises by tomorrow, if they aren’t already. At the end of the corridor, they release me and push open a set of double doors. He’s inside, standing next to his desk, his heartbeat calm and steady. To his mind, at this moment, I pose no threat whatsoever.
“Mr. Murdock,” he almost purrs, “I’ve missed the pleasure of your company. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”
“What was that?” Foggy whispers, coming fully alert in a moment.
The call is repeated. “Ahoy, there! Permission to come aboard?” The thing is, the call seems to be coming from above deck, not alongside. Kirsten and Foggy exchange looks. Then, Kirsten opens a drawer in the galley kitchen and pulls out a knife.
“There’s a storage compartment under your seat,” she tells Foggy. “Dad keeps a baseball bat in there. It’s a personalized Louisville Slugger; if you hit anyone, try not to smudge the autograph.”
Foggy swallows hard, but he lifts the seat cushion and retrieves the bat. “You know, if it’s Kingpin’s people, this won’t stop them for long,” he says.
“Sh!” Kirsten opens the cabin door a crack. She can see two people above deck; a man who appears to be about her own age, and a girl in her late teens. She pulls it open wider.
“Not so loud,” the girl is saying. “My teleportation’s good, but I can’t guarantee this is the right boat. If they take us for burglars and call the cops-”
“I know. Last thing we want. Eh...?”
The girl has spotted them and she’s gripping the man’s arm and is gesturing toward the cabin.
The man grins at them. “I don’t suppose one of you sent a text to 555-9636 in the last half hour?”
Foggy clears his throat. “That would have been me.”
“Mr. Nelson, I take it? And... Ms McDuffie? It is ‘Ms,’ right? Not Miss or Mrs.?”
They both nod.
The man looks at his companion. “It’s the right place; I’ll take it from here. Thanks, Magik.”
“Any time. Now, I’ve really got to run.” So saying, she waves her hand. The air shimmers and a round doorway hangs in midair. She steps through it and it closes behind her.”
The man smiles at Kirsten and Foggy’s somewhat bewildered-somewhat nervous expressions. “She’s Doctor Strange’s student. He’s got this thing about punctuality. Don’t judge her too harshly. Hi, I’m Jamie Madrox. Daredevil said you could use me.”
Foggy looks him up and down. “Um... no offense, but...” He breaks off. “Never mind.”
Jamie laughs. “What, I don’t look tough enough? Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure I can handle any non-powered threat well enough.”
Kirsten takes a deep breath. “Let’s hope you’re right. But just in case you aren’t,” she holds up her knife with one hand and gestures to the bat in Foggy’s hand, “we’ll hold onto these.”
“Suits me fine. So. While we’re waiting, how about bringing me up to speed on everything else that’s been going on? I understand from one of my dupes that there’s a whole legal kerfuffle?”
Foggy snorts. “That’s one way to put it.” He frowns a bit, wondering what Jamie means by ‘dupes’.
“Well,” the newcomer says, “entertainment law is more my bailiwick, but I might know a thing or two that can help.”
“Maybe later,” Kirsten says. “Right now, we’ve got other things to-Ah!” A bright line shines directly into her face and she closes her eyes and turns away. The light stays on her. More search lights sweep the deck, fore and aft, locking onto Jamie and Foggy.
Foggy moves quickly to the rail, the spotlight following him all the way. “We’re surrounded on three sides,” he says quietly. “There’s a boat portside and starboard side that weren’t there when we got here. There’s that one,” he waves fore, “blocking us in and the harbor at our back. I’m willing to bet that these aren’t fishing boats that took a wrong turn.”
“Roger that,” Jamie says. “Let’s get started then.” He stomps his foot and suddenly, there are two of him. He repeats the procedure with identical results. “I guess I should have warned you,” he admits, punctuating each word with another stomp, “but introducing myself as ‘Jamie Madrox, The Multiple Man’ just feels so pretentious. How many of me do you need in order to feel safe?” He leans closer with a paternal smile.
Kirsten blinks at the thirty identical Madroxes. Then she smiles. “I think this is enough for a start. However,” she adds, “make one more condescending crack and I’ll stamp on your foot myself.”
“Company,” one of the duplicates calls. Grappling hooks attach to the rail on the opposite side of the boat and a boarding party starts swinging toward them, hand over hand.
“Got any boiling tar?” another one asks.
Without waiting for an answer, the Madroxes spread out around the railing. The men climbing the ropes freeze, confusion and concern warring on their faces, as they realize that they are facing far more people than they’d bargained for.
When one, in panic, fires a gun, a Madrox takes hold of Kirsten and Foggy and steers them below deck. “If it comes to it,” he explains, “my dupes are expendable. You two aren’t. Hold onto those weapons, sure. Use ‘em if any of those creeps make it down here. But Matt asked me to make sure you two stay safe. I don’t want to let him down.”
This time, he’s not being patronizing. Kirsten and Foggy both nod.
“Okay. So, as I was starting to ask when we were so rudely interrupted, what else is going on?”
Sitting here now, practically smelling the confidence oozing out of his pores, I can’t help remembering the last time he tore my life apart. Again, he didn’t take me on face to face; he went behind the scenes and took everything away from me, piece by piece. My career, my reputation, my home... about all he left me were the clothes on my back and some smoldering rags that had once been my costume. I made a number of mistakes that time. Yes, including lurching into his office when I was anywhere but at my best and thinking I could beat him into giving me my life back. (No need to wonder why that’s been on my mind for the last little while, I suppose.) But that wasn’t my biggest mistake.
Kingpin separated me from everything that was important to me, but it was my choice to break away from the people. It would be nice to be able to say that I was nobly making that sacrifice so that Kingpin wouldn’t hurt them to get to me. Sometimes, I even think I’ve convinced myself. But truthfully, it probably had more to do with pride-not wanting to admit how lost I felt, how badly I was hurting; and fear-back then, Foggy didn’t know I was Daredevil and, somehow, even though my worst enemy knew the secret, I was still scared of how my best friend would react.
It’s easy enough to say that I’ve grown since then, except that once again, here I am, trying to make Kingpin give me back my life, when he’s probably the one who wrecked it in the first place. He has no reason to do so. And, as Foggy pointed out, if my main reason for approaching him now is to keep the people I care about safe... it’s not going to work. Or, at least, it wouldn’t if I were still trying to shoulder this load on my own. But I’m not. Foggy and Kirsten are in the loop. Thanks to them, I’ve made a few modifications to my original playbook. I just hope they’ll be enough.
And now, Kingpin is sitting across from me. I might not be able to see the expression on his face, but I can feel him gloating. He’s sure he’s got me right where he wants me and I’m not positive he’s wrong. But I’m not going to knuckle under without a fight.
“I must say I was somewhat surprised when you initiated contact, Murdock,” he rumbles. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I think you know,” I say steadily. Of course that’s not enough.
“Perhaps. But I would still like to hear you say it.”
Foggy was right about one thing, at least. He does want to watch me squirm. The last thing I want to do is give him the satisfaction, but then, since I’ve been told that my acting skills leave a lot to be desired, I’m hoping that my reluctance will work for me. I tell him what the Shroud has done. He doesn’t seem surprised. When I’m finished talking, he laces his fingers together and flexes them. He rolls his chair fractionally closer, as though he’d be only too happy to crush me were the desk not between us. “You have suffered a number of reverses,” he says slowly. “Serious ones. But what has any of this to do with me?”
I take a deep breath. “Other people have been hurt by the disclosures,” I say. “Good people. I can’t protect all of them. I was hoping that there might be some way to spin what’s happened so that the impact to them is mitigated.”
“Ah. And for yourself?”
I shake my head. “I’m not fool enough to ask. Or think you’d be interested in helping me on that score.”
“I see.” There’s a long pause. When he speaks again, his voice is almost benevolent. “Actually,” he says, “there might be a way for us to help each other. I am presently in California to deal with various legal matters. Zoning issues, various civil suits that have been slowly working their way through the system, an appeal or two. While you’ve long been a thorn in my side, I’ve been impressed in the past by your acumen in the courtroom. It would be sheer shortsightedness on my part not to take advantage of your skills in that area for reasons of personal animosity.”
I let my jaw drop. I’m not really surprised at anything he’s saying, but I want him to think I am. “I... can you fill me in on the details?”
“In time,” he sounds amused. “In time.” He cracks his knuckles. “I’m well aware of your scruples, Murdock. I don’t expect you to compromise them. But my organization is vast and I’m sure that I can find various matters that would benefit from your attention, and should not offend your... sensibilities.”
“And in exchange,” I say, “you’ll protect my clients. And my current partner comes through this unscathed?”
“Both your past and current partner will enjoy my protection for so long as you uphold your end of the bargain.”
I will never underestimate Foggy’s insights again for as long as I live. I take another breath. “And you’ll release Julia Carpenter?”
For the first time, his heart beat spikes. “I beg your pardon?”
I smile. “I think you heard me.”
“I grant you that I’ve been looking for her,” Kingpin says, raising his hands, with his palms down. “A favor to another in my employ. But, regrettably, I have no idea where she is.” He lowers his hands to his lap.
For an instant, I wonder whether I overplayed my hand. I don’t think he’s lying. But while his heart rate is stays steady, I can smell his perspiration and I hear him wiping his palms on the linen fabric of his trousers. He may have no idea where she is, but that doesn’t mean he’s not holding her.
“I’m not convinced,” I say softly. “Perhaps the Shroud will be when he arrives.”
The sweat smell grows stronger. I’m willing to bet that he’s been briefed on Max’s abilities. “If he is,” Kingpin rasps, “your first duty in my employ will be to defend me against him.”
I shake my head. “Sorry. Much as I appreciate your efforts to accommodate me, I’m afraid I’ll have to turn your offer down.”
He chuckles then. “Do you seriously believe that you have a choice?” His good humor vanishes, leaving nothing but steel and ice in his voice. “Listen to me, Murdock. While we’ve been been discussing your future, I have already begun upholding my commitment. At this moment, Mr. Nelson and Ms McDuffie are enjoying my hospitality. They will continue to do so for as long as you remain in my service. But if you should refuse or should you perform your assigned tasks with anything less than your maximum effort...”
I just hope that Madrox came through. If he didn’t, I’m in real trouble. So, once again, I’m not feigning nervousness when I say, “I think you’re bluffing.”
He pushes something toward me. I reach for it and realize that it’s my cell phone. “Why don’t you call them?”
My own hand is sweating as I punch in Kirsten’s number. She picks up on the second ring. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” I smile. “How are you holding up?”
“We’re doing okay. There was some excitement earlier, but it’s been taken care of.”
My smile grows wider as a wave of relief washes over me. “Kirsten, I’m going to put you on speaker, okay? There’s someone else with me who needs to hear how you’re doing.”
I don’t miss the low growl in Kingpin’s throat as I press the button. “Could you repeat that last bit, please? For a bigger audience?”
This time, there’s more than a hint of amusement in her voice. “Sure. Foggy and I are fine. That security detail you sent us did the trick. Will you be coming back soon?”
Before I can answer, the office window shatters as someone swings into the room. I recognize the silhouette before I track the heart beat. The Shroud has arrived.
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