Risky Situations
“If you think you’re being followed, then you are. Act in consequence.” Dex turned right. Then right again. Jumped on the emergency staircase, ran up and entered the first apartment with an open window. Two were already following him that way. The others were most likely taking the other entrance.
Dex spent a minute looking through the kitchen. He’d counted 4, maybe 5 of them following him. Less than a FBI squad. They weren’t sent by his former bosses, that was an information to keep in mind. This was the only thought he gave these people who were coming for him. He didn’t care. Whoever they were, he’d make sure they weren’t an issue for long.
The apartment was currently rented by Eleonor Becks. She’d never really been into cooking. She’d tried once, for her boyfriend. He pretended that it was good and thanked her for the effort. He was now her ex-boyfriend, went back to live with his mother, and Eleonor was eating out most days. Eleonor was also slightly late on the payment of her rent. Not because of money issues, but because she’d taken extra shifts at work and forgot about it. Her landlord was thinking about calling her the next day to remind her to pay.
Outside of Eleonor’s apartment, people were getting ready to collect Benjamin Poindexter. They’d been watching him for long enough, and after losing him once they weren’t going to make the same mistake again. This time, the orders were clear. They had to take him, alive if that was an option, but dead was also completely fine. They knew enough to write a full report, send it to Mark and that woman who’d been in contact with the target.
Mike and Serena were waiting on the emergency stairs outside. Viggo, Lauren and Charles were in the hallway. It wasn’t their first rodeo, and they’d worked together enough to be able to communicate without a single word.
Lauren was taking care of the lock. Slowly, methodically, as to leave no trace of her presence. Poindexter was trapped, she could take her time and do things properly. When the lock gave up under her expert hand, she secured it in her pocket along with her picking tools, where it’d all stay until she put it all back together. She got up, stepped aside and waited for Charles to take the lead.
Charles nodded at Viggo, who nodded back. The three of them secured the silencers on their guns, just like Mike and Serena were doing on the other side of the apartment.
Serena checked inside for a clear position of the target.
The knife entered her throat from the side. She fell backwards, above the stairways and onto the empty street before she could even make a sound. Her body hadn’t touched the asphalt yet when Mike decided to jump inside Eleonor’s apartment. He shot a first time in Dex’s direction and threw himself onto the floor, avoiding the second knife sent in the window’s way, and shot again.
Dex winced. They got his calf. Just like the doctors warned him, it was hurting way less than he’d expected. With only a fraction of his focus, he was able to block the pain away and keep moving, barely feeling the blood coming out of the wound.
The others entered the apartment. Dex got down on his knees and tore down the leg of a kitchen chair. A bullet pierced through the wall above his head. He left his cover and threw the chair’s leg at Mike’s head, rolled over and grabbed his gun. Mike was trying to get a hold of Dex’s leg when a bullet from his own gun broke his skull.
Charles and Lauren kept shooting, following the sounds of Dex’s movements, breaking every cabinet, furniture and wall as he was making his way towards them. On the other side of the apartment, Viggo was trying to get a very scared Eleonor out of bed.
Dex flipped the kitchen table over and threw a knife at Lauren, who was hiding behind the sofa. It stopped only an inch away from her right eye. She immediately got up and shot at the table, letting out a loud scream when a bullet got in and out of her body through her left shoulder. She fell, shot two more times in the dark, ignoring Charles as he was telling her to take cover.
Dex ran behind her, still trying to reach the last of his attackers. He held Lauren’s body, protecting himself as she was still screaming. Charles knew that she was as good as dead and shot through her. Dex let go of Lauren and got down on the floor.
He crawled behind the couch, vaguely feeling the warmth of his blood running down his leg, and waited. Charles was out of ammo and didn’t want to lose any time reloading. Dex wanted to get him from behind. To get him to talk and tell who he was working for. That wasn’t Charles’ plan, who jumped over the sofa and onto his opponent. He punched Dex in the face, avoided a kick to his stomach and grabbed his leg on the way. Faster than anyone could’ve done, he secured his grip on Dex’s leg, kicked him in the head and simultaneously twisted the ankle and kneecap he was holding to break the leg and stop the target.
Nothing broke.
Worse, the bone seemed to be stronger than Charles. Charles Santos was trained, and objectively one of the best in his field. He’d just witnessed the death of his team without batting an eye. Shot through Lauren’s body without thinking twice about her children. However, a bone that wouldn’t break destabilized him for a second. A single moment of confusion that Dex used to his advantage. He lifted himself up, headbutted Charles and pierced through his eye with Lauren’s lock picking tool.
Dex took a second to breathe now that no one was trying to kill him anymore. Four were dead, and he’d noticed four different sets of footsteps when they entered the apartment. One of them never made it inside.
In the bedroom, Viggo was struggling with Eleonor. He was now considering knocking her unconscious only to get her out of the way. The fighting had stopped, but he hadn’t heard from Charles yet. He knew what that meant.
“Listen,” he calmly whispered, running his hand up and down Eleonor’s arm. “I’m gonna cover for you, but you need to run out of the door. Can you do that ?”
“Who- What’s… Sir, who are you ?” she asked between sobs.
“Help, but you need to do as I say,” he replied. “If you do, I can assure you that everything will be f-”
The bullet entered the back of his head, splashing the front of his face onto Eleonor. She opened her mouth to scream, to finally let out everything that this man she’d never met before and who appeared as she was getting robbed forced her to keep inside. She didn’t scream. The last of Dex’s bullets entered her mouth and ended its course in the wall behind her.
Dex let out a brief sigh before checking Viggo’s pockets. Bullets, a combat knife, a pack of gum. He took one for himself and walked back to the living room to check on the others. He found nothing, until he reached Charles’ body and the phone he was holding in his now inert hand.
He smiled and took the phone from the carpet. “Hello,” he calmly said. “Who’s speaking ?”
Mark, from the Washington office, hung up.
Dex, from Eleonor's apartment in Manhattan, threw the phone away and walked out of Eleonor’s apartment, by the open window, the same way he got inside in the first place.
***
Rose handed the old lady her change after she’d bought a small crocus pot for her granddaughter’s first year in college. Housewarming gift. Another client entered the shop as she was giving the usual recommandations to take care of a plant, and was rather surprised to see a familiar face. A face that Rose Parsons wasn’t supposed to have ever seen.
“Here, give her that,” Rose added with a smile, handing the old woman one of the cards she’d worked hard on. That one was saying ‘If it’s wet, don’t make it worse’. “Tell her that she doesn’t need to water it if the dirt is already damp, okay ? We wouldn’t want this sweet girl to drown.”
“You have a good day, young lady,” the woman said, smiling back at Rose. “I’ll send my husband here, he’s trying to set up a garden on our balcony.”
“That’s an amazing idea,” Rose replied. “I’d be happy to help.”
The woman kept on telling Rose how glad she was that a flower shop had opened so close to her apartment and walked away, politely nodding at Edward on her way out.
Rose turned to look at her father, put a strand of hair behind her ear and scratched the bottom of her ear. He gave her a questioning look, and she simply shrugged.
She’d found the microphone in her bathroom the day it had been put there. Clearly the young woman on her period wasn’t a professional, hiding it on the shelf where Rose was storing her toilet paper rolls. She’d thought about taking it off, but whoever hired her to put it there would then suspect something, or she’d have to go talk to the police about it, and all kinds of unpleasant shit would ensue. She’d decided to leave the mic in place, since nothing ever happened in her apartment.
Of course she’d thought about who hired that girl. The thing was, it probably had nothing to do with Rose’s job. She’d been seen with the lawyers who’d everything to do with Wilson Fisk’s arrest; any of his old friends could have wanted to keep her under surveillance. There were so many choices, all of them dangerous enough to think about retaliating against the girl who placed that thing in Rose’s bathroom if it was discovered that soon. Rose simply decided to let this go and be careful. Her father however, had to be warned.
He got the message and took a piece of paper from the counter. “I’d like to buy a bouquet. Could you write something on the card for me ?” he asked.
“Sure, what kind of flowers would the lady like ?”
“I don’t know, roses maybe ?”
She took the card he was handing her, already walking towards the roses. ‘Poindexter killed the team. Charles Santos is dead.’ She held her breath for a second. Charles Santos was some sort of legend among them. She forced herself to smile and looked back at her father. “When would you like it delivered ?”
“Last night would’ve been great,” he scoffed.
“Last night,” she repeated, her voice almost inaudible. “Okay,” she quickly added. “Let’s work some magic and everything will be forgiven. What did you do ?”
“We had a fight,” he replied. “Pretty bad, to be honest. I was thinking about packing my stuff and leaving, but I thought maybe flowers would help.”
Rose glanced at him as she was cutting the bottom of the roses and placing them together. “Sounds extreme.”
“Well, things are a bit complicated these days.”
There was no way she’d ever ask to be extracted just because Poindexter was doing what he knew how to do best. He had no idea that she knew about him, and he was most likely not involved in the mic in her bathroom. “I suggest you get her the flowers, apologize as many times as it takes for her to forgive you, and then you forget about it. Does it sound okay to you ?”
Edward nodded, unhappy that his daughter had so little care for her own safety. He took a look around, the note on the cash register catching his eye. “Closed tomorrow ? What if I need another bouquet ?”
“There’s another shop three streets down, but I’m closed on Sundays.” She looked at him, repressing a smile. “I’m going to mass.”
“Mass ?” Edward didn’t know that becoming Rose Parsons had involved a newfound faith. “Of course,” he quickly said. “Many people go to mass. I’ll try not to get anyone angry tonight, then.”
Rose wrapped a string around the flowers and showed him the finished product. “Looks good ? You think she’ll like it ?”
“It’s perfect. The card ?”
“Oh, right.” She grabbed the card and wrote a message that said: ‘I’m good, tell Marianne I’m good, and I’ll be careful. Love you.’
Edward paid for the bouquet and read the card. He sighed and put it inside his jacket. He’d known before coming how it would all end, but he’d hoped that she’d do as he advised her. Rose was rarely doing things the way he wanted, but he had to try.
On his way back to the door, he turned around and smiled. “That’s a very nice shop you have here.”
“Thanks, I worked hard on it,” she replied, smiling back at him.
When he got out however, Rose’s smile disappeared and she went back to her counter to sit down for a minute. She’d never met Charles Santos, only knew him from his reputation. She knew Serena Kellerman, though. They’d started working at the same time, became friends, and had been talking sporadically in the past few years. Rose had been assigned to undercover cases, and Serena had been lucky enough to be chosen by Charles to join his collecting squad.
Rose already knew that she wouldn’t hear about any of it in the news. That wasn’t how things worked for them. Rose’s death would make a little more noise, since she’d been in contact with the locals, but no one would know about Serena. Rose took out her phone and looked at the articles from the previous night. Robbery turned homicide when the tenant woke up. Nothing suspicious when it came to New York, but the lock on the door had been taken out and not found. That was it. Serena had told Rose many times about the way they were operating.
Rose put the phone down and rested her head between her hands. That would’ve been a good way to let the people know that Poindexter was back. Instead, her bosses were covering their affairs. Bodies had been retrieved, crime scenes cleaned up. It wasn’t even that hard when you could pretend to be any kind of higher authority and take cases from the local police.
Another customer entered the shop. Rose put all of her feelings back inside and looked up, a smile already brightening up her face.
***
Dex would have to remind Vanessa to bug the flower girl’s shop. He hadn’t been able to hear anything coming from that side for days and just like he’d warned her, nothing was ever happening in her apartment. That girl had no life whatsoever. He knew that she’d been talking to two different customers that morning, because he’d heard voices, but that was it. Nothing else. It was all beyond frustrating.
The wound in his leg was already getting better. With the right dosage of painkillers, he wasn’t even feeling a thing. Vanessa had kept her promise to let him have anything he wanted, and after a quick stop by a doctor to get his calf stitched, he’d walked back to the street where he’d been followed.
He’d watched, all night, as people in black cars were methodically turning the scene into what they needed it to be. They took the five bodies back, leaving only the girl who was renting the place. The police didn’t show up until morning, and when they were all gone and Dex himself went to ask the neighbors about what had happened, they all said the same thing. They heard a fight, the police came and commanded them to stay inside, and then the local cops came. No one believed that Eleonor Becks had been able to put up the kind of fight that left her apartment in the state it was, but they all blamed it on an adrenaline spike.
Dex had no idea who these people were. Not any of the letters he’d learned of. That was easily explained by the fact that Benjamin Poindexter had never had the kind of clearance level that would’ve let him know about the people who came after him the previous night. That wasn’t personal, no one in the FBI had been made aware of them either.
He didn’t spend a long time wondering about who told them that he was back. These things happened, and he’d known for a while that it was only a matter of time before he’d get caught in New York. He was, after all, quite famous. It would probably happen again, but for now, he had other things to worry about. He had a delivery to make for Wilson Fisk.
He took another look at the envelope and what it contained. A single picture from an ultrasound, with a note in the back. ‘It’s a boy. I love you, always. Vanessa’. Dex didn’t care about the baby, unlike the rest of Fisk’s old team. He didn’t care about Vanessa either. He cared about how happy Fisk would be to know that he was to be a father. How hopeful for that child he’d be. The things it would make him feel. Dex was just as impatient about this delivery as Vanessa.
The guards shifts were never happening at the same time here. Every two hours, a guard was leaving and another was taking his place, making it easier for security to keep an eye on the prisoners at all times. There had never been any incident before. From his van, Dex was waiting for the next guard to end his shift and his replacement to arrive. They weren’t supposed to meet. The one leaving wasn’t walking away from the same door as the one starting his shift. It was a really well rounded security process, with guards better trained than in any other prison in the country.
Gregory Masters wished his coworkers a good day and walked away from his booth, eager to take his security suit off. It was heavy, and the helmet was a real pain to breathe in. His wife told him many times to ask for another affectation, but the money he was making here was worth all the incomfort. In the changing room, he took it all off and put his clean clothes on. He threw the rest of his uniform in the dirty laundry and walked away to the exit. He’d have to wait for Yuri to show up on the other door to take his place and then he’d drive home, back to his wife and Polly, their dog.
Yuri Hansen was, at the same time, parking his car in front of the high security prison. He’d been working here for years, and he liked that job. He didn’t mind the lack of social interaction, he didn’t mind the suit, and he didn’t mind the impossible hours. All in all, Yuri was more than satisfied with his life. He closed the door of his car and opened the backseat’s one to grab the bag with the books he was going to replace in his locker. He’d read all the old ones already and his most recent order had arrived in the morning. He closed the door of his car and locked it.
He felt a sting in the back of his neck. A second later, he was spitting blood and falling down.
Dex hurried to get the body and hide it in the back of his van. He jumped inside with Yuri’s body, got the man rid of his clothes and put them on before taking his car keys and any personal effects. He was about to exit the van but remembered that he forgot something. He stepped back inside, opened the tool box he’d taken with him, and sawed Yuri’s hand off.
A few minutes later, the time it took him to stop the bleeding from the hand and hide it under his sleeve, Dex was entering the prison, wearing Yuri’s hood over his head. He barely said a word, which didn’t surprise the guard, and presented the hand on the hand scanner. The light turned green, the door on Gregory’s side opened, and Dex only had to get to the changing room to be even more concealed by the suit the guards were all wearing.
***
“You think they’ll all get their money back ?” Karen asked as Matt was joining her in front of the courthouse.
He winced. “Not if the insurance company doesn’t take our deal,” he replied. “I’d say they will after today, but if they take their chances and decide to keep it going, only our strongest cases will get the compensation they asked for. The others will only get a refund on what they paid so far.”
“I say it’s a win either way,” she said with a smile.
Matt could only agree with that. They’d worked hard, and most of their clients would get the money they spent back. Some would get compensated for the abuse of trust on such a vulnerable population. They’d trusted the law, and it paid off. Matt was confident that the conversation he’d had with the insurance company’s lawyers after today’s hearings got them to think that maybe the deal they’d been first offered wasn’t that bad, and he didn’t have to physically assault anyone.
Karen nudged at him. “You did great today.” He smiled back at her and kept walking, holding her arm for guidance. “Have you heard about the homicide last night ?”
Matt nodded. “I was on my way to the scene but I heard the police were already there.”
“Wasn’t our police,” Karen corrected. “I asked Brett if he’d heard about it, and the case has been taken from them by people so far up that he wasn’t able to tell me who was in charge.”
“Be careful when you look into it,” Matt simply replied, knowing that her decision was made already. The beatings of her heart were fast, the tone of her voice changed when she mentioned it and she was, after all, the same woman who went after her old employers after they tried to have her killed. He’d learned not to force Karen into stopping her instincts but instead encourage her to ask for help if she ever needed it. As they were turning around a corner, Matt stopped. “You haven’t been keeping tabs on Vanessa Fisk, by any chance ?”
“What ? No !” He didn’t move. He already knew she was lying, and she probably figured out that he knew. “I have,” Karen admitted, pushing him to keep walking. “I’ve been working on a lot of things lately, so I don’t have much. She’s been meeting with quite a few doctors. She never gets out in public, always in her car with Fisk’s driver. Why ?”
“She’s asked to see him.”
“Fisk ?” He nodded. “Well, they’re married, and they really love each other. I don’t get what’s surprising here. It makes sense that she’d want to see him.”
Matt agreed and kept walking, talking about the next case they’d be taking. He was thinking about the one where the seller of a building hid an electrical malfunction to the new buyers and the whole thing almost burned down three times in the summer. Karen on the other hand was almost certain that they’d have to take care of a ‘money case’. Ever since his very public DA campaign, Foggy had earned himself quite a reputation and many clients were coming to ask for his legal help. He was the real star of their practice, and the one people were ready to pay for, which was fine with everyone working at Nelson, Murdock and Page.
“We’ll have to stop by Rose’s shop,” Karen said as they were approaching their practice. “Foggy wants to make sure she’s still coming.”
“Perfect.”
Karen scoffed. “You want to know what I think ?”
“No, not really,” Matt sighed.
“Good, because I’m gonna tell you.” She stopped and forced him to face her. “I understand. Really, I do. I mean, with everything we’ve been through ? Of course you can’t trust anyone like that.”
“And yet, you’ve been on Foggy’s side all along,” he argued.
“And I still am, but I understand where you’re coming from. Who knows,” she kept saying, “maybe if I could do what you can, I’d be listening to everybody all the time. But so far, Rose’s been nothing but friendly to us. She’s a good person, I’m very rarely wrong about that. Have you uh… talked to your mother ?”
“What for ?”
“Guidance ?”
Matt sighed. “Church used to be a safe place, and now she’s gonna be there, too. Listen,” he quickly added, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”
Karen laughed and pushed him ahead of her on the crosswalk. “So Foggy’s right. You like her.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It’s fine,” she replied with a shrug. “I couldn’t be with you anyway. I’m mostly fine with what you do in your free time, but you’re looking for trouble, Matt. As long as you keep helping me whenever someone tries to kill me, I’m good.”
***
‘Thanks for the flowers, take care of yourself. M.’
Rose smiled at her phone and placed it back on the counter next to her. She’d been thinking about her father’s visit a lot.
He didn’t come when she was in Tampa pretending to be an ‘exotic dancer’ and the target verbally threatened her life. But now that she’d only been approached by Poindexter and he didn’t even know who she was, he was showing up ? That wasn’t like him to ask her to give up. And what about Charles Santos’ team ? How did her father learn about it so fast that he was in her shop telling her about it less than 12 hours later ? It took Marianne weeks to find out that Poindexter was in New York, and that team was monitored by the Washington office. Yes, Rose was certain that something was wrong with her father.
She considered the fact that he hadn’t been here to see her at all. That, after so long, he’d decided in his old age to start over and that he’d been having an affair with Marianne. Coming to her shop would’ve only been a side effect to him visiting his girlfriend. She also considered that because of his old age, he was getting more worried about the life she was leading. Either way, she wasn’t going to leave now. The best she could do for him was to fasten things up a bit, and he would still not like what she had in mind about that.
“Hello,” Karen said on the other side of the counter. “You’re lucky we’re not here to rob you.”
Rose looked up and smiled at her visitors. She turned the screen of her laptop in their direction. “I got caught up with work,” she explained. “I’m supposed to meet with Father Bryant tomorrow and I want to come prepared. I have ideas, but it’s a lot of work.”
“You want to force him into a business partnership ?” Matt asked.
Rose laughed. “It’s only an incentive. But you’re right, I’m part of the very powerful flower mafia, forcing priests into making their churches more welcoming for free.” She leaned forward and whispered. “It’s all part of a vast plan to bring people to God. Like a cult.”
“A cult,” Karen scoffed. “Good thing Matt’s already a part of it.”
“Shit, sorry,” Rose immediately replied, standing back up. “I didn’t mean to- Shit, it was a joke. Wait, is it illegal ? I took pictures, is it okay if I show up with-”
“You can take pictures of a church,” Matt quickly said, stopping her from having what seemed to be a panic attack. “Don’t sell them, you’ll be fine. And I think it’s a really good thing you’re doing, by the way.”
“I’m only hoping it brings some money in,” she replied. “I’m a real capitalist.” She closed her laptop and cleared her throat. “So, since you’re not here to rob me, what can I do for you ?”
“Right,” Karen said. “Just reminding you about Wednesday night. You’re still coming ?”
“I am,” she replied with a smile. “Quick question, what color is their living room ?”
“I, uh… beige, I think ?”
“Vanilla,” Matt added, much to Rose’s confusion. “It smells like vanilla.”
She didn’t know what to do with that at all, but thanked them anyway. Rose thought that, for once, she’d do the normal thing and bring a bottle of wine.
After they’d left, she kept looking at the pictures of Clinton Church she’d taken the past few days. She’d remember not to call catholicism a cult on her meeting, and it should all be fine. She couldn’t even believe she did that. She’d always respected everyone’s faith as long as they respected her lack of, but it just came out. It appeared to her that most of the time, whenever Matt was around, she was saying very bad things for no reason. She’d have to watch that, Rose thought, before she made an even bigger fool of herself.
The doorbell rang. At first, Rose thought that Karen had forgotten something. Then, she thought that her father wanted to convince her to quit again.
To her surprise, it was the police. Not in the suit, but Rose would’ve recognized a cop a mile away, even more when the cop’s face and name were all over the files she’d studied before moving to Hell’s Kitchen. She’d known that it was only a matter of time before someone showed up and asked questions. She was, once again, ready.
“Hello, Sir,” she said with a warm smile, “how may I help you today ?”
He took out his badge and showed it to her. “Rose Parsons ?” She nodded. “I’m detective Brett Mahoney. I’d like to ask you a few questions if you’re not too busy.”
She looked around them and frowned. “As you can see, I’m crawling under the weight of work, detective. But I’ll make an effort. How can I help ?”
He put up two pictures and handed them to her. “Have you ever seen these men ?”
She had. When she’d scheduled a delivery with the greenhouse. When they’d joked over a nice and tall glass of iced tea. “I think so,” she replied, looking at the smiling faces. “I haven’t been to many places since I got here, so I guess they’re either from the hardware store or one of my suppliers ?”
“Bailey’s,” he replied. “They grow uh… these,” he added, pointing at some of her largest potted plants. Lemon trees, olive trees. “They’re in charge of the deliveries. According to the schedule the owner gave us, they were supposed to come here on the 21st. You never reported it as late ?”
“Well, no,” she casually said. “Because they never made a delivery here. I don’t think I’ve seen them in my shop, and I got a second delivery from Mister Bailey yesterday, these men weren’t the ones to come either.”
Brett put the pictures back in his suit. “So the delivery was on time on the 21st ?”
“I can check if you want.”
“Please. Are you sure they were never here ?”
“I haven’t had so many people walk through these doors, detective,” Rose replied, walking to the back of her shop, where she was keeping all of her paperwork. She took the binder with the delivery receipts and came back to him. “So,” she said, looking for the right one, “what did they do ?” He didn’t say anything, only frowned. “Come on,” she scoffed. “I’ve watched Law and Order, I know the police don't show up for no reason. Are they in trouble ?”
“They disappeared.”
Rose froze, her hand stuck in the air, still holding the receipt. “What ? When ?”
“Somewhere between you and the previous delivery, apparently,” he calmly informed her. He took the piece of paper and nodded. “I’ll have someone bring it back to you.”
“No need,” she immediately said. “I scan them just in case. Keep it for as long as you need and uh… I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive or anything. Really, I hope they’re okay.”
“Thanks for your help, Miss Parsons.” On his way out, Brett pointed at the CCTV on the wall. “When did you get these ?”
“Thursday, so uh… 2 days ago. Do you need the tapes ?”
He sighed. “Nothing from the 21st, then.”
“No, sorry. I didn’t have my license yet.”
He stepped away from the door and arched a brow at her. “Your license ?”
“Yeah, to put up the cameras.”
“You don’t need one,” he said. “As long as you have a clear sign warning people that they’re being filmed, you don’t need anything else.”
For the first time since detective Mahoney entered her shop, Rose was at a loss for words. Did Foggy and Matt lie to her ? And why ? “Well, I didn’t know that at the time,” she scoffed. “I assumed it was just like home, and I felt a little stupid when I showed up at the Chamber of Commerce asking for a license.”
“You have them now,” he replied. “Keep them recording.”
He walked away, leaving Rose to wonder what had just happened. She’d put up a stellar performance, like she’d always done. And he had to bring the cameras into this. There was no reason for either Matt or Foggy to have lied to her about that.
Instinctively, she turned to the back of her shop and frowned. Was it possible that her friendly neighbors were involved in the bugging of her place ? Foggy was a great lawyer, but he didn’t have a bad bone in him. He’d have never done that. Matt on the other hand… She was almost sure that he wasn’t a bad person, but didn't she have doubts about him already ?
Her father could’ve been right. She needed to get answers on what brought her to Hell’s Kitchen before anyone found out about her. Neither of them would like what she had to do, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
***
Dex couldn’t believe that some people were willingly taking these jobs. He had begun to regret not taking Yuri’s bag of books with him some time around the second hour of his shift. All he was waiting for was to bring Fisk his dinner, deliver the picture, and leave. He’d read through most of the paperwork about Fisk inside of Yuri’s booth, but nothing caught his eye and he gave up, only trying to stay awake after that.
Maybe things would’ve been more interesting for him if they’d been labeled differently. For example, the 7 visits that a woman under the name of Fleur Penquist made to Fisk in the past 6 months would’ve actually rang a bell under a different name. For now, Dex only thought that it was the government, sending a secretary to sign some paperwork about his criminal activities, when it was actually only ever about his old friend Daredevil.
He made sure to learn the entire protocol by heart. He couldn’t afford to have anyone doubt that he wasn’t Yuri Hansen. The last time Dex had stolen a suit, it was much more comfortable. This one was incredibly heavy, and he wasn’t sure he could fight properly wearing it.
When someone finally knocked on Dex’s booth, he almost jumped from his seat. He secured Yuri’s hand under his sleeve. He’d need it twice during the round.
“You get all the trays on the East wing tonight,” his current superior said. “Good luck with Bill, I’ve heard he’s in a bad mood.”
Dex huffed and walked to the other end of the hallway. He’d never met Bill before, but he was sure he’d be in a bad mood too if he had to be locked up here.
Benjamin Poindexter would never be imprisoned in a place like this, though. If he ever was to be arrested for his crimes, just like Charles Santos and his squad had intended to, the place waiting for him would be much worse than this boring but highly secured prison.
For 23 minutes, Dex handed prisoners their meals. The protocol was rather easy to follow. Wait for the inmate to move to the back of his cell, enter the cell, place the tray on the table, walk out. The guards were always in pairs for this and Bill, the guard who’d been paired with Yuri Hansen for this round, was indeed in a bad mood and didn’t engage in any form of conversation. If anyone asked him, and they would a few days later after finding Yuri’s body, he’d say that Yuri was acting as usual and didn’t say much.
Dex reached Wilson Fisk’s cell. He took the tray from the cart and hid the envelope under the plate after checking its content, just as the protocol asked. Fisk stepped to the back of his cell. Dex turned around and waited for Bill to unlock the doors. His grip tightened around the plastic tray. He’d imagined that seeing that man again would make him feel something, but he hadn’t thought that it’d be that much, and that strongly. Bill stepped aside, leaving room for Dex to enter. He did, put down the tray and walked away, ready to deliver the next one to the next prisoner.
The next part of the process consisted in waiting for the prisoners to be done with their meal. That was the only time the guards were splitting. Bill went left on the East wing, Dex went right, and stopped briefly in front of Fisk’s cell.
Wilson Fisk was staring at his tray. The plate had been taken out untouched, and he was holding Vanessa’s ultrasound in his hand. He was, just like any man who’d just learned that they were about to become a father, in shock. Even more so knowing that it was a boy. Any man in his position would’ve known that the smart thing to do if he ever wanted to meet that child was to make a call to his assigned case worker, the lovely but very serious Fleur Penquist. He’d only have to tell her everything he knew about Daredevil, and let her take care of him. She’d never said why she was asking so much about him, and it could’ve very well been to arrest or kill him.
He had every reason to cooperate with her now. She could allow him a visit from his wife, she could let him meet his son. The problem was that she hadn’t been the one to bring him the picture. If she’d had any intention for him to know about the child, she would’ve used it to force him into talking.
Fleur hadn’t been able to do so, for the good reason that she was busy being someone else at the moment. She’d given him many opportunities to work with her before taking things into her own hands and leaving for New York, and she didn’t want to ruin her cover by having to explain a trip to visit a criminal in jail.
Dex hit the bars of the cell with his baton after checking that Bill wasn’t looking in his direction. “Not hungry tonight, prisoner ?”
Fisk immediately looked up. The guards’ anonymity was ensured by their suits, but he recognized that voice. The disgust and resentment in it. He hid the picture under his shirt and ran to the bars.
“They’re coming for you,” he whispered. “Protect my family. Please.”
“Back off,” Dex commanded, hitting the cell again. He took a step forward and nodded. “Thanks for the enhancement. I owe you one.”
Bill ran to help him, threatened Fisk to take his dinner back and to let him starve, and remained by Dex’s side until the end of their round. Dex knew that according to the protocol, he’d have to report that a prisoner made contact with him. It wasn’t a problem to him, not as much as what Fisk had said.
People were coming for him. Was he talking about the ones he’d taken care of the previous night ? How would a prisoner know about that ? There was only one answer to that in Dex’s mind. Fisk sent them after him himself, and was now regretting his choice. That was what he wanted and chose to believe, when the truth was entirely different. If Fleur Penquist had been coming here to ask about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, Charles Santos had done the same, asking about the man who pretended to be the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. After everything that happened between them, Wilson Fisk was only trying to save the man who had the ability to protect his wife and son.
Feelings had never been Dex’s thing. Being the man that he was, he was only familiar with anger, frustration and pleasure. He’d learned to recognize others’ feelings however. He’d seen the tears threatening to fall from Fisk’s eyes, and the begging in his voice. That man had just learned that his wife was pregnant, and he was already begging for a child he’d never met.
Dex wondered if things could’ve been different. If Fisk would’ve spared Julie if he’d begged. If he’d promised to do whatever Fisk wanted in order to keep her safe. He’d sworn that he’d never let himself think about her again. But it was too late now, and the anger was back. The frustration of Fisk still being able to protect his loved ones, too. He already knew about the pleasure he’d get from taking his revenge on the people who’d wronged him.
Like he’d said only minutes ago, he did owe a big one to Wilson Fisk, and Benjamin Poindexter was a man of his word when it came to revenge.