Author's Note:  This is for my brother who I recently

found out, was waiting for this story. 


In nature, a weaker animal will feed off a larger

animal when it is deceased, but even then most of

those animals still feed in groups.  Perhaps it is a

sign of fear, at least that is what Daredevil is

hoping.  He has been stalking the streets for two days

searching for answers.  He came upon "Josie's Bar", a

low-life hang out he often visited, but really wished

he didn"t have to.  Every drug dealer, rapist, and

general scum of society met and discussed their

business deals there. 


Normally, he would have no trouble with the degenerate

crowd, but lack of sleep makes one careless.  And

vultures always notice the careless -- always.  Someone

got a shot off, grazing his shoulder, and that set off

a domino effect of bullets and blood.  He had no

choice but to go down, and rely on the bragging rights

of the shooter to take full effect, and they did.

"I got him.  I'll be damned -- I got him!  Man, all you

guys,"  The man looked around the room his eyes

glowing with pride.  "Every single one a you has tried

to ice the devil.  And it was me, Turk."  A loud

bellow came from the bar, it belonged to the owner a

large, dirty, big-boned woman named Josie.  "Well,

dumb ass, you can be the one to cart that carcass out

of here, before I decide to make you pay for the

damages here."


This is far better than Daredevil could have hoped,

not only does he have a clear out, but he has his

favorite rat to make squeal.  He heard Turk grumble as

the others laughed, and he let his body go limp as

Turk slowly dragged him out the front door.  The slam

of the door rang in his ears, and he could smell

the sweat forming on Turk's forehead.  The thud as

each drop hit the pavement, and the sticky heat as one

solitary drop approached his face.  His hand lunged up

in a crimson blur, clutching Turk by the throat.  A

raspy sound escaped from Turk"s mouth,  "What the f'"

Daredevil grimaced as he got up slowly.  "Uh uh -- watch

the language, stool pigeon.  Wouldn't want the rest of

the class to hear."


Of all the criminals in hell's kitchen, Daredevil had

found that Turk was annoying, but an effective way to

get information.  Right now, with his heartbeat

thumping faster and faster, Daredevil decided to take

Turk to the rooftops.  "I want some info, Turk.

Someone has some power.  Missles, namely.  And I want

to know why they are here, and what they want with my

part of New York."


 Daredevil didn't need his enhanced senses to know

that Turk was seconds away from spilling. But in a

spurt of defiance, Turk pressed hard against

Daredevil"s wounded shoulder.  "They think I killed

you, and by the way you are moving, I think I still

could."  Daredevil unlatched his billy club and

smacked him hard in the back of the head.  "I am not

in the mood Turk!  Now, unless you think I have a way

of doing this that doesn"t involve you losing control

of your bodily functions," at that moment Daredevil

threw him off the building.  "No, damn it, no!!!!!" 


The world swirled around the thug, he only wished he

had the stones to stand up to that vigilante.  Then he

heard it, the cold calmness in the hero"s voice.

"Tell me, you gutless puke --"  A cable wrapped tight

around Turk's leg, "Alright!  From what I know it is

some foreign ruler¬ A Duke or somethin".  He has sent

some people around, asking for underlings, or some

such crap.  I swear to God, that is all I know."  He

felt his body being pulled up and let a rough breath

try to escape his lips as he was tossed on the roof.

When he had finally gotten up, Daredevil was gone.


Thoughts were running vividly through Daredevil's

head, and right now there was only one

person who could sort through it all with him.


This was a case they could not win, Foggy had been

searching relentlessly through the law books.  He was

a good lawyer, but this was not his strong point, at

least not alone.  The sign on the entrance door said

it truest, it was "Nelson and Murdock".   Right now,

the only silver lining in working this hard was buying

the pizza on Matt's credit card.  A ten year old boy

was getting ready for a trial for murder.  If you

looked at the situation in an unbiased view, you would

know it was self-defense.  But, if you were everyone

in hell"s kitchen, then you tended to side with the

mayor.  And that just happened to be the boy's father --

publicity wise, it was a nightmare.


It's no wonder those kids were so worried, they had

every reason to be.  Despite the fact that the legal

system prided itself on being objective, it was

swarmed with corruption.  And it was driven by

popularity, color over truth, wealth over

righteousness.  Granted there were some exceptions,

but they were too few to make such a bold statement.

But maybe, Matt would change that, at least for this

case.  What some would call grand standing on Matt's

part, Foggy only attributed it to poetic justice.


Things were bad since he and Matt had started the

practice on their own again.  They had gone through

help like Matt goes through first-aid kits... or women

for that matter.  And with a partner whose definition

of night life would make a Terminator movie look tame.

 All the same though, the streets feel safer with a

protector.  Just then, Foggy noticed a strange looking

bug crawling on his pizza.  He snatched one of the

huge law books, and before he could stop, slammed it

down on the insect. 


CLANG!!!  Normally, the demise of the thing that

threatened his meal, would have made Foggy smile a

little.  Except, the last time he killed a bug it made

a crunchy sound... not a clangy sound.  He picked up

the tiny corpse.  "You are one ugly sucker!"  It

stared lifelessly at the lawyer, but inside were

unseen mechanisms making one last attempt at its

objective.  A small projectile propelled from inside

the bug targeted to his neck.  With a thud Foggy's

head fell into his food, and the bug fell to the



A figure smashed his fist through the window, and

quickly approached Nelson.  "I've got the lawyer."

Picking Nelson up the figure waited patiently for his

next command.  A voice transmitted a cold monotone

message.  "Bring him to the planned destination.  The

mission is over."  Moving towards the window, the

figure rocketed into the air, leaving only chaos in

its wake.


To Be Concluded...