(OK. I can't focus on two completely different plot lines at once since they are huge.
First we follow the Daredevil/ Punisher/ Fisk/ Spider People plot line to completion.
Then we follow the Storm/ Reaver plot line.
The number in ''()'' will symbolize the events happening parallel to each other. I think for me this way will be FAR more manageable and readers won't get whiplash from jumping from plot line to plot line.)
3rd POV:
Spider-Man swung through the air.
The past few days have been hard on him. With Bell going around as Cipher now, it was up to him and Ghost Spider to hit up the places of suspected crime and they were taking the full brunt of the sights.
Even in that disposal room with hydrofluoric acid he was the one that took charge. He and Ghost Spider were frozen up after, barely able to form thoughts after that sight.
Now he needed to move past it as if their deaths did not matter. A cog in the machine, so to speak.
Was there no end to the depravity?
Yes, the evidence gathered has seen some mafia members put in prison, but it seemed there was no end in sight. The deeper they dug, the more they encountered. It seemed Fisks mafia ring run FAR beyond NYC.
Yes, putting him in prison would be good, but then what about the rest. Bribed officials? The rest of the mafia who will fracture and fight for control? The customers?
Spider-Man sighed and landed on the roof of a container crane. Once more he was on a pier. They seemed to love these places. Made sense as it was a place where one had access to both the land and the sea. Perhaps the air as well if the pier was big enough.
According to the intel, this place was only a place where the mafia smuggled drug and illegal weapons.
Thank god.
He really needed some reprieve after all the shit he had to see the past few days, a little more than half a week.
He surveyed the place and quickly determined where the offices where.
He knew they were criminals, but this situation was not the same as someone mugging someone else or the super villains wreaking havoc. The situation required a more delicate touch, which meant they needed to play it by the book or they would get to walk free again. So no silent takedowns.
Only sneaking around and going unnoticed for now. Bell told them that the people arrested for that hydrofluoric acid were released again, soon after getting arrested. All thanks to a loophole.
Fucking system.
It truly was a court of law and not justice.Seems Bell was right again.
All that work undone. And thanks to the way they operated it slowed their operation of taking down the mafia down. Valuable time wasted that could see another innocent dead or suffering.
Spider-Man crawled into the office. At least the good news was that there was no one here. So he could investigate quietly. Then again this probably meant they had a different place where the operated from. It still would be probably good to investigate this place as well.
He typed away alongside A.R.A.C.H.N.I.D after plugging in a device to the PC.
He widened his eyes a little at the information. It seems it really was their place of operation. And there were no hidden places here. At least A.R.A.C.H.N.I.D did not report any hidden rooms. Makes his job all the easier.
He began typing again. It seemed they reported importing a lot of timber and other raw resources.
Made sense.
Fisk Industries was a manufacturing company. It could justify buying up these resources and report it without any implication. Meanwhile they quietly added some guns or drugs in the container as well and voila.
Maybe bribe the one inspector here or there.
Or dispose of him.
In that case he wanted to see the ware for himself. Just in case. He could investigate without needing to take out the guards. Maybe the would be kind enough to open up the container for him, none the wiser to his presence.
He left the office after unplugging the device and crawled around the building looking to see if there was anything going on here that would be helpful to their cause.
He stopped after hearing a very weak groan.
Did he mishear that?
He focused his senses to the utmost and tried to originate that sound but nothing came of it.
His senses were ridiculously strong, thanks to the spider bite. If he barely heard it then what of any normal person with normal senses?
His good mood of this being a simple case vanished.
He crawled around some more and looked for an isolated guard. Finding one, he slowly let himself down with a web and then grabbed him by his face up, so he wouldn't scream. Spider-Man quickly webbed his hands to the wall so that he would't try to fight back in any way.
''I'm going to remove my hand and you and I will talk. Try to scream and I will be angry. i already am in a foul mood. Alright?,'' Spider-Man told him, getting even further annoyed when the man calmed down after his initial fear once he saw and recognized him.
Spider-Man removed his hand and immediately decked the man hard enough to knock out several teeth, when he tried to scream for the others.
...
So maybe the past week and a half were getting more to him then he let on. Not that he regretted that.
The man moaned and Spider-Man slapped his face softly a little to grab his attention.
Once he had it he talked again.
''Right. With that out of the way. Let us try again. Abandon all delusion of belief. I am in a very foul mood and if you refuse to cooperate then you are worthless to me. You wouldn't want that. Right?,'' Spider-Man told him.
People knew the Spider Club did not kill. These, oh so tough and hardened, criminals probably would not take hims seriously in the first place as he did not fear him. He would take comfort in some broken bones and the fact he would walk out a few moths later out of prison.
This is actually the first time he did this and it surprised Spider-Man how easy it came to him.
''Now. I heard a weak groan. Why is that? You are smuggling more than weapons and drugs here,'' Spider-Man accused him.
Ah, there it is. The fear. The apprehension. And of course, the realization that something was amiss.
''If I talk they will kill me,'' the man slowly and lowly slurred. His lacking teeth, both knocked out and broken made him slightly delirious with pain.
''If you don't talk I will kill you now. My friend died a few weeks ago and you think we will remain the friendly neighbourhood spider people?,'' Spider-Man darkly told him and put his lenses very close to the mans eyes for intimidation. He wouldn't kill him, but the man had no way of knowing. He learned some things from Bell in acting as well.
The man cast him a conflicted look and then swallowed, making him wince from the pain.
''Look I can't tell you what is going on here. The Kingpin will find out and then kill me and my family. But you said that you heard a noise? You have super senses? If you are willing to lie and say you found it out for yourself then I will tell you,'' the man tried to bargain.
Spider-Man hummed.
''It is a yellow container marked with the initials IN-6578. That is where you will find ... well, you'll see. Look man I told you what you wan- Humph?,'' Spider-Man stopped the man from talking and webbed his mouth.
Then he crawled away making the man shiver. It looked so unnatural they way humans crawled over walls.
Wait.
How is he going to get down? He was 4 floors up in the air, webbed to a building.
...
After some more crawling around Spider-Man found the container. Now that he had a better look around the cameras all pointed outwards the premises of the pier. Not a single one was recording the inside of the premises.
Of course.
Looking at the container he could see it was a little removed from all the other guards. A.R.A.C.H.N.I.D meanwhile showed him some info from the previously hacked PC in the office. The container was sent out from India. It supposedly carried minerals and some other materials. All together unremarkable.
He dropped down and opened up the container.
Are those....?
Sound insulating material inside the container? How did this not raise any suspicions to an inspector? Was he bribed?
Now that the container was open Spider-Man could hear weak breathing. He quickly jumped to the ceiling of the container and crawled through the small space at the top.
Past the boxes hidden from sight was the sight of weak malnourished woman barely clinging to life and barely being able to muster the strength to move as well.
AGAIN?
Just how many people were victims of human trafficking? Was this container insulated from sound and the women kept weak so that people like him with super senses would find it harder to hear them scream for help? Was it neglect from the journey on the ship? Was it even more sinister?
Something his mind could not even conjure up?
His heart clenched as the women did not even react to his presence. So tired were they that the world was no longer registering the world in their minds.
He crawled back and removed the boxes by dragging them outside quietly. He had the strength for that easily.
Then he stood a little around, undecided what to do. With how well hidden the women were, there was no probable cause, since it needed to be readily apparent. He could not claim he was swinging by and just happened to see the women as there were no cameras and the guards would all lie anyway. And the women probably saw nothing, so they couldn't corroborate his report. But the women, desperately needed help. They would get it, of course, but that would mean the guards would all most likely walk away after a short battle in court. Or a short prison sentence.
Spider-Man clenched his fists in anger and frustration.
And they could all return to their merry little ways.
These people don't change.
...
...
...
...
...
No.
Enough.
This was simply enough.
He could no longer fool himself.
No longer could he give the same courtesy to people who would so easily kill him as the did 'Nexus'. Or make innocents suffer.
All roads lead to the same solution.
...
...
...
...
...
Spider-Man swung back to the previously tied man and watched him slump down in relief. He probably was expecting him to let him down from up here.
His expression quickly changed as Spider-Man grabbed his head and gave a twist killing him on the spot.
Spider-Man starred silently at his hands. Shaking and yet surprisingly firm as well. An oxymoron in truth.
This... was far easier then he feared.
The man gave small twitches and spasms.
Reflexes.
The moment life escaped.
Right, wrong, justified.
Call it what anyone will.
He could NEVER hurt anyone again.
At a certain point you hit rock bottom. People do wrong things for survival then. Stealing, mostly.
But some people just keep on digging.
This man was one of them.
He was an animal. A rabid dog feasting on innocents.
Though murdering was wrong he would take comfort in the knowledge that he stopped a great evil.
They man may have had family, friends, maybe even a kid or at least one on the way. But so did his victims. Life was a scale. All life is born invaluable. It is your choices afterwards, that would detract or add to that price.
He could never adopt Bells philosophy of innocence being a bubble, and after some back and forth he could also not fully accept Uncle Bens philosophy of great power carrying great responsibility. Even if Uncle Ben further explained and expanded on that philosophy later on.
Far too many times the government abused their power and failed to uphold responsibility.
But he would have a form of variation of both philosophies that he would use for himself.
It was ones own responsibility to uphold that invaluableness at a certain point. Every one had power over that. No one could change THAT. This man failed to uphold his responsibilities and lost the invaluable price on his life.
It did not matter if he had his reasons for doing this evil or not.
Sympathy and empathy for victims on both sides, should be expected and granted. But one side had a threshold. A line in the sand, where further sympathy could not be granted.
And Peter could either put down the mask or accept that putting on the mask carried responsibilities beyond his own moral compass. Sacrifices he would need to make. Blood he would need to carry on his hands, so that innocents would sleep soundly.
And frankly Peter liked being Spider-Man too much to give that up.
He will only kill people like this man.
There was, after all, a difference between him and someone stealing bread to feed his starving child.
Spider-Man clenched his hands into fists.
Right. Better get to work.
In short time he snapped every guards neck on the pier. A.R.A.C.H.N.I.D was a wonderful help in finding out which one was implicit and which was not. They all were.
Then he let the guard down from the wall and removed all webbing to hide the fact that he was the one that killed all of them. Then he told A.R.A.C.H.N.I.D to delete all the recordings just in case and make an anonymous call to the police and the ambulance.
He watched the scene from several buildings away and observed as the police were putting the corpses in the body bag.
With his suit and all other factors there was no way anyone could link him to these deaths, but he feared that some women may have had enough strength to tell them about him in their report, even if they seemed very weakened.
He sighed.
So maybe there was something that would implicate him after all.
Surprisingly enough all the other deaths did not rest heavy on his soul either.
He wondered if he should tell the others about what he did tonight?
...
Nah. He will tell them later.
---
Bell removed two of the victims memory in regards to them remembering Spider-Man. The rest were too weak to stay awake.
That said...
''YES!!!,'' Bell pumped his fist making Felicia jump on the couch. She quickly made her way over to the computer where he was sitting and looked at the screen seeing lines of codes.
''So, what has you so pumped up?,'' Felicia asked him, not knowing what the lines of code meant. Did he achieve some kind of breakthrough?
''Unimportant,'' Bell shooed her away, making her give an annoyed huff.
Asshole.
---
Once he observed the situation enough Spider-Man began swinging away.
After some time his spider sense blared and he dodged in the air, landing on another rooftop. Looking around quickly, he found the man that ambushed him now several times.
Or at least tried to.
Taskmaster.
He waited patiently as the man moved to be on the same rooftop as Spider-Man.
''No longer running?,'' Taskmaster asked him.
Spider-Man remained silent and got ready for a fight.
''Not making quips this time? Something changed about you. Good, suits me just fine,'' Taskmaster told him. He threw some smoke bombs on the ground. He already had analyzed Spider-Mans fighting style and copied it for himself. All that was left was to take out the hero and cash in the bounty. And if he was lucky, the fight would develop in a way that would turn public against the hero earning him even more money from Kingpin.
But personally, he just wanted to prove that he was the superior fighter and learn from his opponents.
Spider-Man dodged a few of the sword swings in the smoke. He didn't need his eyes to see. Nexus trained him for all types of combat. The workaholic seemed to be right again, that he could face such a scenario in battle.
When facing a enemy who has a sword or a weapon the trick was to wait for the right opportunity to either disarm or incapacitate them.
Dodge, slash. Duck, swerve over the head. The mans movements were quick precise, leaving short room for error. He needed to wait to for the moment to make the best of it.
There. A stab.
Spider-Man stepped in the last moment to the side, before Taskmaster could do anything else he put his fingers on the flat side of the sword locking it in place and quickly punched the handle, before swinging the sword away into the wall of a nearby building all the way to the hilt.
He quickly dodged a few punched to his head after his back was turned to his enemy. Then he ducked and gave and upward kick. Taskmaster put his hands together for a block but simultaneously shoved his leg even further up and then gave a down ward kick.
Spider-Man used his stickiness to pull himself on the ground to the right and spun to attempt to kick Taskmaster legs from under him. Taskmaster took one step back to escape his range, only for Spider-Man to web and pull him towards him as he did another spin. This time Taskmaster blocked the kick with a grunt and grabbed him by the leg before slamming him over head.
Both men stood up and faced each other again.
That way of fighting style. He recognized it anywhere. Especially that own personal touch. It was Nexus' fighting style. Spider-Man took a calming breath.
Taskmaster punched him and Spider-Man dodged, before his spider sense blared. Taskmaster pressed a button on his gauntlet and shot a rope from his pouch and Spider-Man could not dodge in time.
The electricity made him stumble over the edge of a rooftop and fall several floors onto a car. He quickly got himself out of the rope and upon his spider sense blaring again he dodge with a roll landing on the ground as Taskmaster landed on his previous spot slamming a combat knife where he previously was.
With Spider-Man on the road, he used the opportunity to grab a manhole cover and throw it at Taskmaster. He easily dodged it and it slammed into the wall cracking it slightly, before falling down almost crushing a child if it wouldn't have been for a stranger grabbing the child and getting her out of the way.
Spider-Man starred with some fear and regret at what he almost caused.
Taskmaster advanced towards him, but Spider-Man did a hand jump from the ground into the manhole entering the sewers.
This fight escalated and he clearly was not in as much of a right state of mind as he made himself out to be, if he did that towards an innocent. They were all far more conscious of their environment and tried minimizing property damage or people getting hurt to a minimum.
Taskmaster stopped and then retreated. He would not enter the spiders home turf. The sewers would give him far too many advantages. Sure, he did not get to kill him, but looking at the scene, Kingpin would give him at least some money for this.
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Gwen came home from Bells home and sighed. Much as she loved him, he could have moments where he would be frustrating beyond belief. She knew he was goofing around to pump up their spirits and keep up morale, as all these sights did not affect him as much as the others but still. There was a time and place for everything and he was just being insensitive right then.
She stopped as she saw two officers at her door. Their expression grim. She remembered at least one face. When she was much younger her father took her once to the police station and she spent time there. It was a friend of her fathers.
''What happened?,'' Gwen asked with some apprehension trying to abate her fears.
''Gwen... George got beat up severely by a guy in a costume. George came upon a scene and saw a guy with a red costume and two horns with the initials DD on his chest look about to murder two criminals. He and his squad tried to stop him, but then he beat them all up. One guy even died, pronounced dead on the scene, but the rest are hospitalized from all the broken bones,'' the police officer told her. The older one.
Gwen starred horrified at them.
''We have reports of someone going around in Hell#s kitchen calling himself Daredevil. But, I don't know something seems fishy. People described him as a hero and he usually sticks to two batons. This one was reported to throw anything with pinpoint precision and use fists. We may be dealing with an imposter, since they both use different MO's,'' the younger one further explained to her. A stranger.
''The evidence speaks for itself. Daredevil almost killed several cops and killed one, in fact. He is an enemy. Anyway, George is interned at the Grey Anatomy Hospital. Though he may have received a beating he is in stable condition and most likely waiting for you,'' the older one dismissed the younger one and then friendly explained to Gwen where her father was, making her bolt away.
Fucking, Satanaelists, the older man cursed in his head.
That is precisely why people tried to keep them out of government positions. The people at NYCPD tried very hard to push the narrative against the heroes and several people, Satanaelists mostly, dared to use their brain. Something smelled fishy, they said.
Problem was with how delicate and tenacious the situation was they could not dispose of him and bribing him wasn't an option either. The best they could hope was to give him an unimportant task in the NYCPD. At least he was the only one in their department. The rest that was not on Kingpins payroll was thankfully complacent. Stacy was one man and he could not have his eyes on everyone, but NY knew of him and he was beloved, so he would make for a wonderful victim.
---
Gwen stepped into the room and stood besides her dads bed watching him in worry.
He looked... beat up.
''Hey,'' George greeted her trying to be upbeat and put on a strong font for his daughter, only to wince.
Gwen shushed him.
''No, don't do that. I know you are hurting. I have no priority here,'' Gwen told him.
''You are my daughter. You are always my priority. If you ever have children for yourself, you will understand,'' George told her without missing a beat, wincing further.
Gwens eyes teared up, but she smiled anyway. So much for following her request and saving his strength.
''How are you?,'' Gwen asked anyway.
''Could be worse. Could be better. I heard people in war go through worse shit. The doctors told me I would make a full recovery. Some of the soldiers get maimed for life,'' George told her trying to see the positive. Gwen wiped her eyes and tried to touch him, but immediately pulled her hand back after reconsidering. He was delicate now and would not experience it as a touch of comfort.
''Gwen, you listen to me. Pack a few things and move in with Bell. If he won't let you crash at his place take some money from 'that' place and sleep at a hotel,'' George instructed her. She was responsible enough that he trusted her with that information. He made contingencies for cases like this.
''No. Bell will let me crash at his place. What about you?`What if that Daredevil guy comes after you?,'' Gwen asked again.
''There are men stationed outside, but if you ask me they should use that manpower instead to save innocents. I did tell you that vigilantes would become a problem one day.
Anyway, if you are that sure that Bell will let you crash, then do so. Do it now. I don't want you to tarry on this matter. You can always visit me later,'' George added at the end when he saw her about to protest.
After some time she reluctantly nodded and kissed hims very softly at the temple before departing.
---
''Who was it? As a matter of fact who is Daredevil really? Bell, I want all the information,'' Gwen demanded of him after putting her coffer in his room. Since they were alone, he could share with her everything. She knew Bell had his plans and she was wiling to go along with them even if she was curious to know more.
She was angry.
Bell already knew everything and he would have stopped in if things would have escalated.
''Before I tell you everything. Will you now accept me granting George the same protections I did mother, May and Ben. That lucky charm I told you about?,'' Bell asked her. After some consideration Bell did decide to extend his protections to May and Ben as well. The same protections he was giving his mother. It was not the same protection he was giving Chat, Peter and Gwen.
He offered to give George the lucky charms as well, but Gwen declined. She didn't want to take advantage of him.
Silly, girl. He could judge for himself when she would take advantage of him or not. He DID offer.
This time she accepted his offer with a firm nod.
''Finally. Aaaaaaand done. Anyway. Daredevil is the same man who we constantly send all the evidence to. That blind lawyer,'' Bell began telling her.
''Matt Murdock? So he is not blind?,'' Gwen asked. So she had a target now. Good.
''No. He is genuinely blind in the conventional sense. Remember when I made you and Peter fight blind? Imagine that, except his senses are cracked up to eleven. Actually make that 15. He is not blind in the unconventional sense. Not that it matters anyway. The guy that beat your dad up was an imposter wearing Daredevils costume. It was that Bullseye guy that shot me 'dead' with the plasma harpoons.
Fisk is trying to push for an Anti-vigilantism campaign for his upcoming mayor election and making people push a narrative. All this is part of his plan,'' Bell explained to her making her clench her fists.
So the same guy that shot her boyfriend 'dead', beat up her dad. Now she had even more reasons to beat the guy up.
''Anyway, with the charm on him. I wouldn't worry about your dad, so you can take a breath of relief. Make yourself at home, as they say,'' Bell told her making her sigh.
''Just hold me Bell,'' Gwen requested.
Bell simply put her on his lap and hugged her while rubbing her back.
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Frank shot the last guy in the head. Several bodies were laying strewn out around him. Just another bunch of vermin making innocents suffers. He whipped around as he heard a gunshot only to see another body fall on the ground. He looked around, trying to see who helped him.
''Up here. Can you come up please?,'' a man called out making him look up. Frank decided to climb up the escape ladder after a few seconds of contemplation.
''Thank you, but why did you interfere?,'' Frank asked him politely.
''Your welcome, son. I interfered because word on the street is that you are the Punisher. Yes, I recognize that logo anywhere. Word on the street is also that you formed a task force and kill criminals indiscriminately. From hardened criminals to small offenders,'' the old man remarked putting away his rifle.
Frank scoffed.
''That is not my style. Either it is an imposter or a bunch of retard fan boys,'' Frank defended himself. He only killed hardened criminals. Mafia members, rapists, pedophiles, murderers and serial killers. He did not kill people that unintentionally harmed someone else or stole some food to abate starvation a few days more.
''Mhm, that is what I thought as well,'' the old man hummed with a nod.
Frank spied the Satanaelist cross behind his T-shirt.
''Yeah?,'' Frank asked suddenly much more positively disposed towards him.
''Yes. Not your style. Trust the pattern my commanding officer used to say,'' the old man joked.
''You served?,'' Frank asked.
''Donald, by the way. And yes. In Vietnam. Bunch of good that did. You?,'' Donald asked him.
''Iraq and Afghanistan. Marine,'' Frank told him. The man nodded.
''Kind of a whiplash. Isn't it? Bullets flying over your head as you try to sleep. Dead friends lying a few feet away from you and you have to keep on moving. Then you come home and everything is so quiet. Well mostly,'' Donald remarked.
Franks nodded.
''I suppose we all have our way of dealing with that trauma. Some return to what they used to do. I suppose I envy you in a way,'' Donald told him.
Frank wanted to correct him for a second. Expand on the reason why he was waging war against the criminals, but in the end decided not to share his life story with him.
''Why do you envy me?,'' Frank asked him.
''Hippies. I don't know how you were received, but we were received with contempt. It made me bitter. I tried to fit in and be a peaceful member of society. Made me a pussy.
When my granddaughter was taken a little more then a year back, I did nothing. Then I found the grace of Lord Satanael and tried to find her. But I was old, weak and too fucking broken. I could shoot a gun with the best of them, but hunting them down was something different. Then he appeared and told me where to find her and her kidnappers.
She suffered greatly. And will carry the scars for the last of her life, but at least she lives. Not something I can say of the kidnappers. It is only thanks to that Murdock lawyer that took my case pro bono that I did not see jail time. Not that I would have minded anyway. Choices and consequences. Complacency is a sin and if you wish to uphold a virtue go all the way. Otherwise don't even bother trying.
Besides I wouldn't have minded jail anyways. I'm old,'' Donald told him.
Frank gave a small amused huff at the part about Murdock and laughed a little at the last sentence, but then he got serious.
''At least one good thing came out of that religion. People are willing to take more of a stand to evil,'' Frank remarked.
''Yeah. Funny. All the politicians say that taking the law in our own hands would make us into animals, yet the fail to understand that it is their words against a God or that things are slowly getting better because people no longer believe in the system. The same system that let things get so bad in the first place. I only wish every one would see his light, but then I would commit the sin of pride for assuming better.
You a Satanaelist son?,'' Donald asked.
''No. But I can get behind their philosophy. Never was much of a religion guy anyway. Anyway, it was a joy to talk to a fellow veteran, but I do need to know something. You said 'he' appeared and told you information? Who was he?,'' Frank asked getting back to business.
''Goes by the name of Cipher. Came to me said he was going to give me the location of my granddaughter and her kidnappers, if I am willing to pay the price for him,'' Donald told him getting serious now as well.
''Cipher? I am looking for the guy. What was the price you needed to pay?,'' Frank asked him.
''You, of course. Talk to you. Tell you my life story. i don't know why he wanted that. Oh, one moment. There is one other thing,'' Donald entered back into his apartment. Frank looked out in the distance contemplatively. What game was Cipher playing.
The man came back, handing him a paper with an address on it.
''Told me the price was that I will need to hand you this address. Word on the street is that many were visited by him, receiving just such an address as well. Waiting for the chance to meet you. Will you visit the address?,'' Donald told him, making Frank look at him conflicted.
An information broker that just did not operate how you expected him to. One that sought YOU out and not the other way around. And asked for a price that was not monetary and mayhaps would never get paid in the first place.
And Matt did not take him seriously when he said Cipher was playing his own game.
''Thank you, sir,'' Frank told him making the man nod. The Punisher climbed down the fire escape ladder.
''Hey!,'' Frank called out when he was at the bottom and the man was about to return back into his apartment,'' Semper Fi.''
The man smiled and saluted respectfully.
---
Frank hit up the warehouse. Of course he was not going to take the information broker at his word and did his own research on the place and the guys. They were all mafia members. They were using this place as a distribution font for drugs.
He made short work of them. Slitting their throats with a combat knife and shooting the rest of them down.
He looked around trying to find anything out of the ordinary only for one of the dead guards phone to ping. He went over there and picked it up. He doubted he could open it, but you can see part of the messages on the screen.
'Good. Next address is...' Frank read the address and scoffed trowing the phone on the ground. He knew who it was from even without the name being displayed.
Question was.
What game was Cipher playing? Was he trying to make him into his own personal attack dog? Was he going to be the fall guy for something? If Cipher had no trouble seeing people killed then why go out of his way to give Matt all that information that was by the book? Matter of fact, what price was Frank going to pay for this information in the future?
...
After running several questions in his mind Frank decided to follow the bread crumbs for a while. If nothing else their interest seemed to align for the moment.
Of course he would still do his own research, but if nothing else this massively sped up the process.
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Bell raised his eyebrow at what Fisk ordered his men to do. Pretty bold and brazen having the Punisher 'fan boys' shoot up the Nelson and Murdock building. Then again, perhaps not so bad of a plan after all. Bell could see the mad genius behind such a move.
Alas...
A sling portal opened in front of his face.
''Phones do exist. You know?,'' Bell told Strange at being suddenly surprised with a call.
''You were alone so I saw no need. I would appreciate you not phoning to inform Mr. Murdock of the incoming attack,'' Strange requested.
Ah. Bell understood. Using the Time Stone or his own ability to see variation and possibilities of the future was a thing. It was just that unlike proper clairvoyance it was more and more unreliable the father one went into the future. Bar a few events set in stone.
He just failed to understand why Strange hoped to accomplish with her birth.
''You want She-Hulk to be born. I just fail to see the point of her creation. She does not seem to do much good as far as I can see,'' Bell told him.
''Perhaps not in the way you imagine. But she would still do some good,'' Strange tried explaining.
Bells mouth twitched. So there was some sentimentality in those bones of his. So much for sacrificing people to save earth. Oh, he would do it, but he could also be surprisingly corny at times.
Strange wanted one more hero to go around and protect the people and the world.
Fine. Fine.
She could be born even without getting shot by the mafia, but it was not like he had any room to talk. Exhibit, George Stacy. In a way both Strange and Bell were dicks to the people around them, even if it was to their benefit.
''Very well. I can work with this just as well. Keep work of my back or whatever,'' Bell joked.
''Have a nice evening, Mr. O'Quinn,'' Strange said his own goodbyes.
---
''We know you work with the mafia,'' a man approached them grabbing their attention. Matt immediately 'stumbled' in front of Jennifer when he tried to shoot her. Alas, another man tackled the Punisher 'fan boy' to the ground and after some scuffle a shot went of anyways hitting Jennifer in the sides after she stepped from behind Matt. The man grabbed the gun out of his hands and punched him in the throat, but not enough to kill him and then stepped back pointing the gun at him.
Karen immediately called 911 as Nelson set about stopping the blood loss by pressing his jacket into the wound to her stomach and applying pressure.
Some time later the police came and arrested the man and took the man that helped and them to the precinct to have them give a report. Before departing Matt could hear a part of the conversation.
''Shit, he medical card lists her as having Rh-null blood type.''
''Do we have any reserves in the hospital.''
''No. What do we do?''
''My cousin Bruce Banner. He has the same blood type. Call him,'' This voice was Jennifers.
---
''What did the man say?,'' Nelson asked immediately after Matt came back from talking with the Punisher fan boy. Both he and Karen stood up to see what Matt gleamed from him.
With them being lawyers special privileges could be granted to them.
''He claims to know we are working with the mafia and to also have been inspired by the way Frank Castle handles things,'' Matt explained to them.
''How in the world would he arrive to that conclusion? We are putting mafia members behind the bars,'' Nelson asked stumped.
They already heard back from Jennifer. She was weak, but would recover as her cousin did come to give her his blood. So most of their worry were abated for now.
''Isn't it obvious? That is not a fan boy. It is a mafia member,'' Karen said lowly so that no one would overhear them.
''I am glad you and I think the same. it is the same conclusion I arrived to,'' Matt agreed with her.
''OK. I can see your point, but how is Kingpin going to spin this in his favor? He is not sending a message by having a 'fan boy' be the fall guy by going around shooting lawyers,'' Nelson lowly said back.
''But he is. Let us go, there are too many ears here,'' Matt told them and then walked away touching the ground in front of him with his cane. He was starting to notice a pattern.
'Daredevil' beats up police officers and kills one. Impressionable people get corrupted by heroes. Heroes cause property damage, inconveniencing people. The Punisher goes on a killing spree leaving mountains of bodies behind by taking justice in his own hands.
They all had one thing in common.
Vigilantes.
Fisk has announced his run for mayor, but he did not tell the world what he was running on. Matt had a hunch. And frankly it made him furious at having that guy have put his friend in danger.
---
Nelson put a glass of beer down on the table in front of Matt and Karen. They all needed to get something in them to remove the stress a little after the whole ordeal. They were in Matts house right now, waiting for Fisk to appear on television and have him run his campaign.
Nelson turned the TV a little louder so that Matt could hear better as Fisk finally appeared. They listened with rapt attention.
''Mr. Wilson, you have announced that you would like to run for mayor for the people of New York City. If I may ask, what made you strive for such a position? And what are your campaign goals,'' the moderator asked.
''Thank you for asking that. I have started to notice a trend recently. The people of New York City are good people. And like all good people they deserve the security of knowing that they live in an environment and a community that is safe, stable, secure, not volatile and governed by laws and rules.
What I noticed recently however is that the city is going in a wrong direction. We have masked vigilantes going around taking matters into their own hands. Causing property damage and inconveniencing people. Impeding police investigations. Endangering innocent people. Taking the law into their own hands. Making impressionable people do terrible things.
It is all there for everyone to see.
And when the real heroes, police men and police women try to do things properly. Try to put an end to their rampage and uphold the virtues of our society by obeying the law and enforcing it as it should be. What do these vigilantes do?
They attack them and put them in hospital or worse. Just ask Captain Stacy. A man who I admire for doing this city a great service.
That is the kind of man we need. Not these masked criminals prancing around as heroes and discarding their law at their leisure.
Therefore I propose that vigilantes either register themselves and work alongside the police after receiving police training or stop being vigilantes. Much as some people will deny. The world is changing. No one can stop progress and it seems super powered people will be the norm soon enough.
We must set a precedent now, before things escalate completely and innocents get hurt,'' Fisk held a short speech.
''That is an interesting proposal. On the matter of people taking the law into their own hands what do you say to the Satanaelists taking the law into their own hands as well? Will they be also included in what I assume to be dubbed the Superhuman Registration Act?,'' the woman asked.
''The Superhuman Registration Act? Its nice name. Don't mind if I adapt it,'' both people laughed a little,'' But no. I think for them police training will do. And a certificate that they are allowed to enforce the law, but only in so far that they don't kill anyone.
I can understand their religion, but killing is simply wrong. I suppose that will be the only reason why I won't convert.''
''Of course. A belief I can get fully behind. Choices do have consequences is something I agree with, but killing is, as you said wrong. I do have one more question before we move on to Mr. Osborn.
Are you hoping that this SRA will be adopted throughout the entire country? Maybe even the entire world?,'' the moderator asked.
''I think if we execute the matter well then we can see some amount of success in that regard. As I said, super powered people seem to be becoming the norm. By all means, I am not opposed to people lending other people a helping hand. I just want it to be done the right way. By trained professionals. Without endangering the lives of innocents,'' Fisk told the public.
''In that case, Mr. Osborn, what do you say to that topic of growing discontent on half the people of New York City?,'' the woman switched over to the other candidate.
''Well, I think...,'' Nelson turned off the TV in frustration and put the remote on the table.
''Asshole. So that is his plan. It was not enough for him to kill Nexus, but now he is going after everyone else. How much do you guys want to bet that moderator was bribed or threatened to ask the right questions?,'' Nelson asked.
''That is a fools bet. Vigilantes registering would mean that people know their identity and people like Fisk can use their loved ones to threaten them in obeisance,'' Karen shot back.
Matt clenched his hand around his cane at the development.
Asshole indeed.
Things were heating up.