DDS03E09
Sitting at her desk at the Bulletin, Karen unlocked and opened the bottom drawer and looked at its contents. She stood up, went over to the door and opened it, checking the hallway. No-one there. She quietly closed the door again and locked it. With some trepidation, she picked up the gun, checked the ammo, and put it into her handbag. She headed for home, stopping in at a local supermarket to buy some groceries.
She had cooked and eaten dinner, cleaned up and was now resting on the couch with her laptop, her full concentration on it when she noticed a reflection on the screen of the walkway upstairs. Someone was there. Her handbag was on the table. Could she get to it and extract her gun?
“Don’t even think about it.”
Thank God. Frank.
“Jesus. You scared the shit out of me. What the hell, Frank?” Relieved, but pissed off too. He came downstairs and joined her in the living room.
“That was too close. I should not have been able to get in. So, what the hell, Karen?”
“Okay, I forgot to put the alarm on. I’ll be more careful.”
“He goes to all the trouble of getting the best security system he can, and you don’t even use it. Do you know what would happen to him if he lost you? He would turn into me.”
Karen paused. No come-back for that. Time to change the subject.
“How did your, ah, mission go the other night?” she enquired.
“Great. How did date night go?” he deflected with a grin.
She smiled too. His face was battered and bruised. Matt had barely a mark on him.
“At least we don’t have to worry about Madame Gao. Matt said she’s turned up in Wakanda.”
“Good thing she’s on our side.” Frank shuddered, remembering what she could do. An extremely formidable opponent, if she wished to be.
“She’s nearly two hundred years old. From another planet. God, it’s incredible to think of what’s been going on, and we just have no idea.”
“Yep. Shit goin’ down, and we’ve got our heads up our asses.”
Karen laughed.
“What about that ninja guy, Nobu. Found him yet?”
“He’s in Tokyo. They’re on their way there now.”
Frank nodded. That confirmed what the message was about: “Plane coming for you @ Matt & Karen’s” “Actually, “ he said, holding his phone up for her to read “I think, so am I.”
They went up to the roof, stopping at the area marked for landing. The cloaked plane became visible as it landed, and Frank boarded. “Don’t forget the goddamn alarm.” were his parting words as he strapped in. The plane cloaked and rose about 20 feet in the air and hovered there.
One of the monitors in front of him showed the rooftop, with Karen going back inside. A message popped up in the middle of the screen: “Scan apartment. Yes/No? He hit Yes, it checked out so he then instructed the plane to depart.
Once airborne, he went through his inventory of weapons and ammo. XDM, check, TRR8, check, M134, check. Good to go. He thoroughly examined all the controls and their readouts, preparing for the chance to fly manually. He then read the mission report that came up onto one of the monitors as the plane made its way out of the city.
Karen had returned indoors, diligently setting the alarm. Feeling a bit vulnerable with both Matt and Frank gone, and a bit miffed that she was being left out.
The car explosion investigation was over with Madame Gao’s explanation of the destroyed weapon. Not something she could put on the front page of the Bulletin. She could just imagine the headline: “Laser destroys spaceship destroys laser.” Nope.
At least she had the satisfaction of knowing that the Feds were chasing their tails. Ha! Suck it, Cooper Crossfire.
But she knew she wasn’t going to enjoy herself while he was away. Now that she was alone, without him to keep her occupied and distracted, now it started to rise up and break the surface. Her fear. Her real fear. That he would find out what else she had done.
Madame Gao walked slowly and purposefully through the Tokyo streets until she came to the turnoff she was looking for. Down the cluttered side-street, weaving her way unobtrusively between crowds of people, entering a narrow alley and stopping at the dark green door. There was no need to knock. They would know she was there, waiting for admission.
T’Challa had trailed her, and once he saw her entering the building he headed off in a different direction. His Japanese contact would no doubt be as punctual as usual, and would be awaiting his arrival.
Frank was on his way. From the motel room on the 23rd floor, Matt stood at the window, the bustling city of Tokyo spread out below him. Millions of people going about their daily lives, work, school, regular routines for regular people.
Bucky turned to Steve and said “So, are we going to be seeing Tony Stark any time soon?” He was wondering about Tony’s state of mind, how he would react the next time they saw each other. Despite his own reservations, the mission at hand called for all the support they could get.
“You know, I just don’t know whether to bring him in on this one or not.”
“If you’re worried about me, don’t. We could use him. We have no idea what we’re really up against.”
Steve nodded. “I should give him a call. He’ll probably want to bring along his new best friend, though. We’ll be cleaning up webs for weeks.”
“Uh, webs?” queried Matt.
“Spiderman. Tony Stark’s new friend.” said Steve.
“Spiderman is friends with Tony Stark?” asked Matt.
“Oh yeah. Why, d’you know him?”
“Met him once. Can’t say we got along.”
Steve grinned. “He get you good?”
Matt shook his head. “I got out of it okay. Lucky to have the suit, though.”
“T’Challa?”
Matt nodded. “Had it for a few weeks now.”
“What did you have before then?”
“Local supplier.”
Steve nodded, and mentally filed the information away in case he needed it later.
“So,” Bucky said to Steve, “How’s Sharon?”
“Haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks, but, she’s good.”
Bucky grinned and nodded. “Peggy Carter’s niece, huh?”
“Uh-huh. I always knew there was something she wasn’t telling me, I just…I had no idea about that.”
“Girls and their secrets.”
“Yep.” Steve nodded.
Matt couldn’t help thinking about Karen.
Karen had grown up in Fagan Corners, Vermont, a small town with a population of about 400. When she was ten years old, her father had taught her and her seven-year old brother, Kevin, to shoot.
Kevin was quite good. Having started at an early age, over the years he became a competent marksman. Karen, however, was excellent. From day one.
She always had perfect aim, irrespective of the projectile, but never really thought much about it. If she tossed something towards the bin, it invariably went in. If she threw a ball towards a hoop, she scored. But once she had held a gun in her hands, nothing else mattered.
She loved to shoot. She and Kevin would spend the hours after school target shooting, but when Kevin saw how little a challenge it was for her, he would venture into the woods, climbing trees to place the targets in various locations, and Karen would have to hunt them down. In his teens he had rigged up a pulley system for moving targets. He wasn’t jealous, he was proud of his big sister and her skills. He even had his own private nickname for her. Bullseye.
Their parents, deeply religious, placed no value on Karen’s skills. They demanded she thank the mighty Lord for the gifts he had bestowed upon her, and warned her against the vanity of claiming such skills as her own.
Undecided about her future path, she had enrolled at the nearest college taking an office management course. She was considering a career either in the military or law enforcement, but wasn’t really sure if she liked either route. They seemed like obvious choices given her proficiency with weapons, but hitting a target was vastly different from hitting a person, a human being. Taking a life. Could she do that? Did she want to?
Ultimately, the answer had been no. Although she had never embraced her parent’s religious fervor, she still respected life enough to not want to participate in the industry of death.
It was during her second summer break when Kevin had come up with a challenge for her. He wanted to see if she could skim a bullet along the roof of a moving car.
They decided to try it on the road out where the curve and rise of the road was at the best angle, at the Hill Rd exit ramp. There was no other traffic around as she took her position.
His hands gripped the wheel as he approached the target point, excited about what they were trying to do. He had full confidence that she could do it. He pumped his fist out the open window of the car and shouted “Go, Bullseye!” Watching through the sight, she saw him and smiled.
Assessing the distance, his velocity, wind speed and direction had all become second nature to her. Her aim was steady. She fired, and was sure the bullet had found its path.
What happened next changed the course of her life.
The bullet had indeed skimmed along the roof of the car as predicted, but Kevin was surprised by the sound of the impact, and flinched. He had tugged on the steering wheel, and in his panic he over-corrected. The car fishtailed dangerously, spun out of control, flew off the road and crashed head-on into a tree.
Karen dropped the gun and sprinted towards the mangled car. He was leaning on the steering wheel, and she saw him moving. She gently pushed him back, a thin stream of blood dribbled from his mouth as his eyes locked with hers. A sudden exhalation, his eyes glazed over, and he was no more. Kevin was dead. She had stumbled into the forest, horrified at the sight of her beloved brother lifeless, and collapsed against a fallen log.
This couldn’t be real. She looked down at her hands, the hands that had held the weapon that had caused this. She was still in shock when she heard the siren heading her way. What should she do? Grief and panic welled up inside her, she had to get away, away from here, she had to find a place where this all made sense. Unseen, she stumbled her way home.
There had been an investigation, but with no apparent cause the incident was written up as a single-vehicle accident, driver error.
His funeral was surreal. Although she had been there with him when he died, it still didn’t feel real, that he was never coming back. Never hiding the targets for her again. Never growing up, going to college, falling in love and getting married, having a family of his own. He was still in her mind but him, his body, his physical presence, he was just … gone.
She felt so alone. Her future without him stretched before her, assumptions she had made about their lives no longer relevant. For the moment, it was incomprehensible. The emptiness enveloped her.
She lost all interest in shooting. How could she ever again look down the sight of a gun and not see her brother’s face?
She had not gone back to college at the start of the new semester, unable to tear herself away from her brother’s presence. Her role in his death was eating away at her, until, three weeks after his funeral, she had broken down and confessed to her parents. They were torn between protecting her and obeying the letter of the law, but Karen herself had insisted upon giving a statement to the police. Having done so, she was surprised at their reaction.
They had decided not to charge her. Even when the local press got wind of what had really happened, there were no legal repercussions. But it did nothing to alleviate her guilt.
She knew her parents blamed her, but they were hiding behind their bibles spouting that God moved in mysterious ways. Life in Fagan Corners became unbearable. She returned to college and never went home again.
Matt, Frank and T’Challa were all actively fighting for their cause. Even Madame Gao, as old as she was, had gotten involved. Karen, however, was sitting on her ass at home waiting for the boys to get back. Enough was enough. Time to get ready. Time to put the past behind her and make the most of what she had.
She remembered when she was still working at Nelson and Murdock, how Foggy used to try to get her to play baseball with him. Not wanting to reveal her hidden talents she had always rebuffed his invitations.
She headed to the nearest target range, at West 20th St. Handguns, rifles, automatic, semi-automatic, she used them all, perfect score every time. She thought she might be rusty but this was a natural-born ability, impossible to lose. And, to her surprise, she enjoyed it. The heft of the weapons somewhat comforting, like old, familiar friends.
Walking down the street, she knew Melvyn’s workshop was around somewhere close by. Although Matt had never betrayed Melvyn’s confidence and told her exactly where it was, she was pretty sure she knew where to look.
The roller-door was as Matt had described it. Could this be the place? As she stood there looking for another way in, the door was opened from inside. Melvyn stood there, looking at her.
“Hi.” She said. She put her hand out to shake his and stepped towards him. “I’m Karen.”
He paused. She looked harmless enough. What could a pretty lady like her do to a guy like him? He shook her hand. “Melvyn.”
“Melvyn Potter, right?”
“How’d you know? How’d you know my name?” He withdrew his hand and stepped back, glancing around nervously.
“Don’t worry, Melvyn. I don’t think you know about me, but,… you made a suit for a friend of mine. A red suit, red and black.”
He relaxed. “Yeah? You want to come in?"
‘Sure.” She smiled and nodded, and they stepped inside. He dropped the door back down.
“So, what do you do?”
“I’m sorry?” She was looking around, examining but not touching anything.
“What do you do? The other lady, she was a fighter too, but you don’t look like no fighter. So, if he’s your friend, what do you do?”
“Oh, no, nothing, nothing like that, I’m not a fighter… but, I do have pretty good aim.”
“With what?”
She picked up a small bolt and a coffee mug from his workbench, and placed the mug in the farthest corner of the room. From the opposite corner she shrew the bolt straight in. Not a chip, not a scratch.
“Pretty much everything.”
He nodded. Not bad. But what else could she use? He picked up a rotary blade and threw it into the wooden door, precisely in the middle of the “PRIVATE” sign.
She picked up a similar blade and threw so it landed directly beside his, but with hers completing the cut so the bisected sign fell to the floor.
Now he was impressed. And inspired.
“You good with guns too?”
“Oh, yeah.” Still feeling good about her time at the shooting range.
“You know what?” he said to her as he picked up his tape measure. “I’m making you a suit.”
She smiled and accommodated him as he measured her up. “You know, that could come in handy. I’m kind of alone at the moment and I have to consider the possibility that someone will come after me. A friend of ours once said I’d make the perfect hostage. And he’s right. It’s happened before. But no more. I want to be ready for anything.”
“Anything?” he said, looking at her thin frame. She didn’t look very strong.
“What are you thinking?” she said, having observed his assessment of her.
“I’m thinking you might need to start working out.”
“Actually” she said “I’ve been thinking the same thing. When should I come back?”
Next step, head to Frank’s place. Well, one of his places. He didn’t know she knew about it, but he had pissed her off when he had admitted to listening in on her, so she had followed him one day. She successfully broke in and borrowed two guns and the appropriate ammo. She looked around for a security camera, locating one on a high shelf. She smiled and waved to the camera. Fuck it. If she was busted, might as well have some fun with it.
And if anyone came to get her while Matt was away, fuck them. Including fucking Spiderman.
Peter received a message from Tony. It was time to test the new equipment. This time they were heading to Japan.
Frank was approaching Tokyo when the alarm on his phone went off. The tune told him which of his locations was being broken into. It was the one he had allowed Karen to follow him to. And on the screen, sure enough, it was Karen.
He’d done his research. He’d found out. The question was, did he tell Matt? Because if he did, he should also tell Matt what he had done.
When Karen had gone to Schoonover’s house to interview him and he had kidnapped her, Frank had rescued her by crashing into the car, knocking both Schoonover and Karen unconscious. Frank had taken the opportunity to inject her, just behind one ear, with a new piece of tech he had received from one of his old contacts. A miniscule sub-dermal vocal transmitter, which was apped to his phone. He hadn’t bugged her office or Matt’s apartment. He had bugged her. He could hear what she heard, and what she said.
Whose friendship did he value the most? With Matt he had the bro and the warrior codes, but he also had a special, intense relationship with Karen.
He decided to make the call tactically. He wouldn’t say anything to Matt until the mission was over. No point in distracting him with something he couldn’t do anything about. And by the look of it, Karen could probably take care of herself. But, he did owe it to her to tell her.
He sent her a text. “I saw you. And, I can hear you.” She looked at the message from Frank on her phone.
“What?” she texted back.
“I saw you on the security feed. And I implanted you with a listening device.”
“When?” she asked.
“When you were unconscious. At Schoonover’s.”
She was shocked. Schoonover’s? Since last year? He had been listening to her since last year? My God, what had he heard? She called him. “Have you been listening to me and Matt?” she said angrily.
“No, never, I didn’t do it to spy on you. It’s for your protection. You didn’t haven anyone looking out for you and I didn’t even know if I’d still be around, but I wanted to be able to make sure you were safe. And maybe get to you if anything happened. I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner. But, I wanted you to know now, while we’re both here and you’re alone that I will be checking on you, so tell me if anything goes wrong.”
“What have you told Matt?”
“Nothing. I’ll only tell him if I have to.”
“If something does go wrong?”
“Yeah.”
She felt around behind each ear, but couldn’t detect anything. It must be really small.
“I want it out, Frank. How do I turn it off?”
“You can’t, don’t, don’t try anything, wait ‘til I’m back there. I’ll do it then. If you still don’t want it, I’ll do it then. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“All right. Gotta go.” They disconnected.
The plane landed, he got out and it took off again. He went through the doors and headed for the elevator.
Karen put her phone down and opened her laptop and sent a message.
“Remember,” said Matt to the others, “If you get the chance, grab Nobu but don’t kill him. He’ll come back stronger.”
Bucky shook his head. “That’s too weird.”
“Look around.” said Frank. Bucky nodded.
“I wonder what’s taking so long with T’Challa and Gao?” commented Steve, pacing anxiously.
“We need to be out there looking for Elektra.” said Matt, also wired.
“We’re wasting our time here sitting on our hands.” said Frank. The four of them looked at each other, all champing at the bit to get into some action. They could all tell that they were in agreement without any more words. Matt opened the door to the small balcony and jumped over the railing. Frank followed Bucky into the internal stairwell, Frank heading downstairs, Bucky for the roof. Steve caught the elevator down to street level.
Matt ran over rooftops, leaping the gaps between them, until he was at the right location – the Hand’s building with the underground hole. He perched himself opposite it on a corner where he could scan everyone around him, watching for someone with the right heartbeat. Strong, but very slow, and very steady. Someone like that should lead him where he wanted to go.
Frank exited the stairwell in the underground car park. He walked up to street level, taking in as much of the environment as he could. Mapping out routes, circling out from their accommodation to the Hand’s building, getting to know the streets. Wending his way down one-way streets and alleys, taking mental notes of landmarks, absorbing all he could. He spotted Matt once, but he was gone in an instant. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen adding Tokyo to his territory.
Steve decided that attempting to look inconspicuous would fail dismally in a sea of small, black-haired people. Clutching a tourist map, he proceeded to take selfies with his phone, capturing the target building in the background. More than just a phone, though. A 3-D display of the structure and all the people inside in real time.
Bucky trailed Steve, watching to see if he was attracting any attention. Well, any unwarranted attention. A group of schoolgirls, giggling awkwardly, but no threat. Someone stopped and asked if he needed assistance, but they left when he politely declined. Eventually, though, he did see someone that caught his eye. A man, hard to say how old he was, but he had now passed by twice. Bucky took particular note of him. A target worth painting.
As far as being a predator goes, there is nothing like local knowledge. Being on home ground, knowing the lay of the land, knowing the pathways your prey was likely to take. Having spotters on constant guard, reporting everything out of the ordinary. And four new targets approaching at the same time attracted enough of the right attention for him to sit up and take notice.
The people of the earthquake-prone country of Japan were used to emergency drills. In this prefecture they were conducted monthly, in preparation for any of the various emergencies that could strike at any time. So this time when the alarm was raised, they evacuated calmly and quickly, with their usual efficiency, using the underground subway exit routes.
Every Hand ninja in Tokyo had received the call. Hundreds of them making their way to the site, preparing to defend it at all costs. Some in ninja garb, some in their day job work clothes. Streaming in, using themselves as a physical barrier, fencing in the building.
“Uh, guys,” said Bucky, preparing to turn to retreat. Too late, the team realized what was happening. Each one of them cornered and surrounded within moments. Swarmed by ninjas.
The battle was on.