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Fan Fiction

Paradise Lost

by Russell Paulette (inadvertant@hotmail.com)

Paradise Lost

Chapter 3 - Developments

DareDevil leaped high above Hell's Kitchen, his arms and legs spiraling his control failing. Nearly reaching a brownstone roof, he landed hard, with a deep thud that he was sure signified the tearing of a few ligaments.
Sprinting to the roof-stairs, he leaped, shattering the door in a hail of splinters and hinges, tumbling down the first flight of stairs into the unnamed tenement. 'How the hell did this happen,' He thought leaping down another floor. 'I begin asking questions about that beat cop's killings and, suddenly, I'm being hunted by a well trained assassin? What gives?'
DareDevil heard the heavy footsteps of the thug as he stepped around the remains of the door. He could smell the fine sheen of sweat on the burly man as the man pushed aside the splinters with his feet. He could hear the fine hum of the laser sight above the man's deep inhalations, which were certainly due to cigarettes.
The red laser sight skipped and jumped over the stairs in the subsequent floors. DareDevil could feel the microscopic change in heat the laser brought about. He felt the red sweep just above his head as he flipped to the underside of the stairs and held on by fingertips just below his assailant. Again he thanked the years he and the Spider were better friends. No wait, he corrected himself, I think Stick actually taught me this one.
Out of the corner of his radar he saw the silenced end of the sub-machine gun jut out from the railing of the stairs above him. The radar judged the distance at about an arm's length from his fingertips. He would have to tense every other limb and shoot his free arm up in about half a second to disarm his opponent. His ears could hear the thug's foot already beginning to shift so he could move down another step; that half-second just halfed itself.
His hand clasped around the hot muzzle of the silencer and he nearly yelped in pain from the intense heat. With a jerk, DareDevil brought the villain's chest onto the railing while sending his gun tumbling down two flights of stairs. In the same motion, DareDevil swung his arm back around to the thug's chest grabbing a handful of Hawaiin shirt and chest hair, while releasing his grip on the underside of the stairs.
Hanging by one arm, while his opponent released a string of curses, DareDevil started to swing up and onto the flight of stairs. The thug shot his forehead into DareDevil's with a loud thunk, and, trying to move his hands to DareDevil's fistful of shirt and hair, he repeated the headbutt.
When DareDevil's head cleared, he was sprawled at the foot of one of the stairs, the gun about three steps below him. His fist was wrapped around a large swatch of Hawaiin shirt and a flurry of hair.
He sat up, trying to clear his head, and laughed. Whoever that idiot was, DareDevil would be able to find out. Fingerprints from the gun, a handful of chest hair, and the person's unique smell which DareDevil's olfactory was cataloging for a later date.

* * *

In the mere day and a half following the subway bombing, Ben Urich had written a column at the most. When the beginning of an expose written by said author landed on J. Jonah Jameson's desk, he was more than elated. When said expose had nothing to do with the subway bombing, Jameson's head felt like it was ready to explode.

* * *

Foggy, shaken by the events from yesterday, began researching the Fisk Plaza buyout for Norombi like it didn't bother him. For the first few hours he pretended like it didn't matter; he pretended like he didn't care. Mr. Norombi wanted something good to reside in Fisk Plaza. Foggy felt this way until he stumbled upon the stockholders of Norombi Industries.
A year and a half ago, Norombi Industries was nearly bought out making it, for all intents and purposes, a subsidiary of a larger company. That company was known then as Plasticine Corporation, a small plastic firm, but has since been bought out by a much larger company based out of Hong Kong, known as Fujikawa Enterprises.
The name Fujikawa ran through Foggy's head, searching for something to connect with, but not finding anything, he returned to his work, taking a break once Matt showed up, late as usual.
"Hey, Matt." Foggy called down the hallway. Matt returned to his door. "Hey, umlisten."
"What's up Foggy?"
"I wanted to apologize for yesterday, and everything and I wanted-"
"No need to apologize, Foggy. It's understandable."
"No I don't think you quite understand"
"Sure I do, Fogster you're finally branching away as a lawyer, testing the waters without me holding your hand, and Ms. Sharpeor Mom,I should say, is trusting you with an important client"
"It's not that, Matt. Something fishy's going on, and I"
"Can't this wait? I have a client meeting in five"
"I don't think so, Matt"
"I've also got Karen for lunch and I-"
Matt was interrupted by the entrance of Rosalinde, strutting thorough in all her pompous glory, followed by a small entorage of assistants.
"and make sure he gets the invitation. We don't want another mishap like the Governer's Ball."
She proudly stepped to up to Matt and Foggy.
"Well, if it isn't my two favorite partners. The world's biggest boy scout, and the world's biggestson, I guessFranklin, straighten your tie."
Foggy responded, while trying to turn to Matt. When he turned, however, Rosalinde was strutting off, her arm intertwined with Matt's, as she distracted him with some semi-amusing anecdote. Foggy shook his head and sighed. Matt was right. He would have to handle this one on his own. Alone.

* * *

Karen sighed again and slipped off her headphones, waving her good-byes and walking into the street. Waving a cab down, she entered and noticed a familiar air about the cab. Nonetheless, she gave the address and the car was on its way.
However, she noticed that the cab driver missed a turn about two blocks back and mentioned it to him.
"This way's a bit quicker" he said, "beautiful"
Something hit her square in the chest. Beautiful. The way he said it the way he meant it was reminiscent of...
OhmyGod! She thought. Those messages, those crazy messages. Her eyes went wide and she glanced into the mirror to see if he was looking back. She tried to absorb his features, his bold, imposing eyes, his shock of blonde hair. OhmyGod!
We're too far downtown for Matt's office, she thought. We've already missed my apartment by half a mile.
"You know what?" she said, trying to maintain her composure. "I forgot I had a lunch datewith Ben Urich, at the Daily Bugle. That building's not to far from here, just drop me off there."
"Anything you say, angel."
The cab slowed to a halt near the Bugle building, but parking on the curb, or even stopping was impossible. He turned into an alley.
"It's easier to pull out." He said. She stepped out, her knees shaking, and began digging in her purse for the change. That's when she noticed the engine cut off. It was a half second later that his leg was outside the now open driver's door.
She started. She started and kicked the door onto his leg, sprinting out of the alley, her purse flapping onto her shoulder behind her. She spirited up to the front lobby of the Bugle building and quickly hopped on the elevator, taking it up to the press room.
"Ben!" she yelled, once the doors opened and people filed out. "Ben Urich!"
A young man with a stack of photographs featuring Spider-Man in action walked up and said, "He's in a meeting with Jameson right now, and"
"I need to speak to him!" she insisted.
The man opened the door and Jameson bellowed, "PARKER! You know I'm not to be interrupted!"
"I know, Jonah, but Ms. Page is here to see Ben. She says it's urgent."
"Send her in, Parker! If she can talk to Urich, she can talk to me!"

* * *

A man went sliding down the bar, crashing into a table sending beer and peanuts into the air.
"Talk to me." Said the Devil.
"I don't want no trouble!" Josie said, from behind the bar.
"I need info and I need it quick. One of you will talk to me about Turk about Gath"
"Aw, hell, Turk and Gath?" Josie laughed. "They're in the pool room."
DareDevil sprinted for the pool room and caught a glimpse of the two men spiriting themselves into the adjoining alley. He made red-booted haste to follow them and downed Turk in a fling of his billy club. Gath slipped around the corner and ducked into the dusk.
"Stay here, Turk." DareDevil said as he sprinted from the alley onto the sidewalk and after Gath.
Gath ran across another alley and two blocks over, hoping to lose DareDevil in a busy thoroughfare. Instead, DareDevil flung his cane-end of the club onto a street lamp and leaped, sending himself into a taut swing which, correctly judging the distance, landed him on top of Gath.
The two bodies flew into a nearby fruitstand, papayas and apples, oranges and banana bunches flying and bursting underneath the weight of their two-hundred pound each frames.
"Talk to me." Said the Devil.
"I already gave it away."
"Gave what away?"
"What we found."
"And that was what?"
"I dunno."
"Dammit, Gath!" DareDevil lifted him by his collar and slammed him into the wall with a cough from him. "What do you know?"
"Nothing." Gath was too cool to be believed.
"Lie to me."
"Nothing."
"That's not a very convincing lie. See, when you lie to me, I can see it in your eyes."
"I'm not lying."
"What did you take from the scene? Turk told me it was a radio tranceiver."
"Is that what that was?"
"Tell me."
"Tell you what? All of a sudden I'm an expert in electronics?"
"Turk said you knew what the big guy who hired you was talking about."
"I pretended to know. There's a difference. Turk's clueless. When you've lifted as many TV's and radios as I have, you learn to recognize things."
"What did you see?"
"Damned if I know. Could've been a control for a little toy car, for all I know. Big dude wanted it."
"What was 'big dude's' name?"
Gath hesitated. "Jacks."
"Jacks? Like the game?"
"I guess. I dunno."
"No. You don't." DareDevil threw him back into the fruit and walked away.

* * *

"You think you could spot this guy?" Ben asked.
"I dunno." Karen said, her coffee cup shaking in her hand. "I mean, I know he's familiar, butnot that familiar."
"Well, this isn't the first time I've heard about this"
"This guy's a serial stalker?" Karen said, her eyes full of worry.
"Tell Matt about him."
"But I can't"
"Tell Matt"
"Ben, you don't understand"
"I do and Matt will"
"No I mean, this isn't the only thing I've been keeping from Matt"
"What else?"
"Well"
"See Karen," Ben said, a drag on his cigarette and his butt resting on the corner of his desk calmed his nerves. "I'm a reporter. I know people. I know when people want to tell me something. You know this stalker stuff, eventually, will make it to the headlines. I've already taken my press pass off." He held up his plastic ID in one hand. "See? Now, I'm not Ben Urich, reporter"
"You're a friend." She finished.
"That's right. If you want to confide in me I promise I won't tell Matt"
"What about the Devil?"
"Him too."
"Well it all started when Matt was gone"

* * *

"Whatta you have, Red?" Kathy Malper asked, not even looking up from her notes, sensing, however, the draft from the newly opened window.
"Ever heard of a guy named Jacks?"
Her head popped up. "Jacks. Why does that sound familiar?"
"Kid's game. Rubber ball, metal spikes."
"Jacks" she mused.
"Well, the two rats who scoured the wreckage the other nightwell, that's the name they gave me. Jacks."
"It rings a bell, Red. That all you have."
"Those two jokers took something, too. Some sort of radio device from the car."
"Hmmm" she mused. "I've got the report here from that Lieutenant what was it, KidneyPie?"
"Marmalade."
"That's right. All sorts of insistent on the trashcan."
"Anything about the cop?"
"Nope. There were three dead gangbangers at the scene. Interviews with some of the survivors said the cop opened fire, the hallways exploded, they ran the hell outta there and didn't see a thing." She shuffled papers and handed DareDevil a few scene photographs. "One kid was plugged six times and the cop's revolver was empty. The gunshells we foundor rather, you found, were .22 caliber, way under the cop's gun."
"So one of the kids had a gun."
"Yeah, and a weak piece for a gangbanger. Strange, no?"
"Yeah. All around strange. I'll do some followups with these gangbangers, you see if Marmalade's come up with anything new I want to know about that damn car."
"I do too, Red." She inhaled a drag and DareDevil's nose singed as the paper and tobacco burned slightly.
"Jacks is the key. He's a middle-man for somebody else."
She nodded and closed the case file. By the time she was finished, he was back out the window. Setting the case file in her IN box, she turned away from other files and walked to her door.

* * *

Matt swung to the apartment, resting nimbly on the windowsill and crawled his way in. He stripped out of his tunic and walked up to the sofa, Karen curled and numb to his arrival. He bent down and took a sniff, smelling the vanilla and cinnamon Karen he had known and loved for years.
He circled the couch and crouched by her head, rubbing his fingers through her hair and holding her hand, he looked into her eyes, her glassy, zomby eyes.
"Karen honey, what's wrong?"
Her eyes welled up, slightly, beginning at the corners and slowly rolling down to her tear ducts, down her cheek, the bridge of her nose. He wiped away one side, and kissed the other, and again posed the question.
"Just hold me" she weakly whispered, and tugged herself into his shoulder. He held her, whimpering, for the rest of the evening until she had to go to work.

* * *

The pasta was thick and creamy as Foggy slurped it into his mouth. He tried to be neat and dabble his chin with a napkin, but was destined to miss.
Norombi sipped a light glass of wine and sighed a heavy sigh.
"This is good pasta, Mr. Norombi."
"Don't mention it, Foggy. I only treat my friends the best. I trust you are my friend."
"I would suppose so, sir."
"Then you will accept some more examples of my gratitude?"
"I suppose so" his cheeks flushed with red, not knowing what to make of the man.
"Here." Norombi said, pulling out a thin, black case about the size of a pencil case.
"What is this?" Foggy said, gulping a bite and removing the napkin before accepting the gift. He opened the box and inside glittered a brand new Roladex watch.
"I noticed your Timex was over twelve years old"
"I needed a new battery, wow, is this gold?"
Norombi nodded. He raised his wine glass.
"To friendship"
"To friendship" Foggy repeated, with an uncertain air.
"And" Norombi turned his face away from the light and a sinister shadow peeled across his features. "to silence"
"Gulp" was Foggy's only response, and then the tinkling of wine glasses.

Chapter 4 - 'Memories', coming soon...

Daredevil (and other related characters appearing) and the distinctive likenesses are Trademarks of Marvel Characters, Inc. and are used WITHOUT permission.
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