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| Issue #17 February 2010 |
"Return of the King" Written by Andrew Gabriel |
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“…Violence continues to erupt all over the city, as what has become possibly the largest ‘gang war’ in the city’s history begins to take its toll on local authorities…”
“Aunt May,” Mary Jane said as she walked into the living room of the aging Forest Hills home of her husband’s great aunt, the woman that had raised Peter Parker into the man he was today. “What are you doing? I thought I asked you to get a bag packed?”
“I still don’t understand why I need to leave,” May Parker began, as she continued to sit in the old armchair in front of the television.
“…Mayor has stated that if the bloodshed increases, he will be forced to call in the National Guard…”
“I already explained why,” Mary Jane said, rolling her eyes. “The exterminator that was here the other day found a huge colony of termites…”
“Though he never said anything to me…” May interrupted.
“Well, he told Peter,” Mary Jane replied a little harsher than she had intended. “He said you have to leave for a few days in order for them to fumigate.”
She hated to lie to the elderly woman that had given her so much over the years, but it was for her own safety. And the sooner she had Aunt May secured in a hotel room, the sooner she could return to the hospital and check-in on the mysterious young girl named May Osborn whom she had come so inexplicably attached to over the last couple of days.
“Well, as long as Peter gave his approval, I guess I’ll just have to go,” May said with a sigh.
“Thank you Aunt May,” Mary Jane replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek before exiting the room. “It’ll be like a little vacation for you! I’ll go and get your bag started for you if you want.”
“That’s alright dear,” May said, beginning to stand up from the chair. “I’ll do it…”
“…Has confirmed reports that Wilson Fisk was assaulted in his office at Fisk Tower, early this morning, by a Daily Bugle photographer named Peter Parker…”
“M-Mary Jane,” May stammered, finding herself unsteady as she stared at the television.
“…Was arrested by N.Y.P.D. officials and taken to the local precinct for processing…”
“MARY JANE,” May screamed, falling back into the arm chair.
“What! What’s wrong,” Mary Jane hollered running back into the living room.
She saw the elderly woman shaking and pointing at the T.V. screen. She followed her finger, and was stunned to see the face of her husband plastered across the screen, being escorted to a waiting police car outside of Fisk Tower, hands cuffed behind his back.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, unable to believe what she was seeing. “What did you do?”
********************
“…Representing Wilson Fisk and Fisk Enterprises have stated that they will seek prosecution to the full extent of the law, believing that this was a planned attack…”
“…What the f*** was he thinking! Did he lose his god damned f****** mind,” J. Jonah Jameson screamed, his face becoming red with blood.
“Jonah, please calm down,” Robbie Robertson said, trying to calm his boss and old confidant before he threw himself into cardiac arrest. “We don’t know anything yet, besides what we’re seeing on T.V.!”
“Ben, you were there with him,” Robbie pleaded, turning to face Ben Urich who was seated in another corner of the room. “What happened after that meeting?”
Ben shrugged, and shook his head.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Peter didn’t seem right to begin with, and just took off afterwards…”
“…Are also discussing a lawsuit against the New York-based newspaper, the Daily Bugle, citing that they knowingly allowed the assailant access to the…”
“A-A lawsuit…Against us,” Jameson said, the words barely escaping his lips.
“Jonah…,” Robertson began, preparing to double his efforts in calming the raging publisher.
“THAT’S IT! HE’S DONE! F****** DONE! FIRED,” Jameson wailed. “PETER PARKER IS FIRED!”
********************
“…Statement made shortly after the incident, Wilson Fisk sounded confident that this attack was instituted by ‘those that want to further spread fear and terror into this fine city’s business community’. Today’s assault follows a devastating attack…”
“I-I don’t believe he would go and do something so careless,” Matthew Murdock said, still dressed in his tattered ‘Daredevil’ costume. He paced the floor of the hospital room where the Felicia Hardy, a.k.a. The Black Cat was recovering from an earlier assault by the maniac Bullseye. “What did he say to you before he left?”
“He said he was going to Fisk, but I had no idea that he would throw himself in the mix like that,” Felicia said disheartened, her voice still weak. “What’re we going to do now?”
“You’re not going to do anything,” Daredevil said bluntly. “Peter Parker is going to get a visit from his lawyer.”
*********************
Wilson Fisk sat behind his massive desk, staring intently at the large flat screen television on the adjacent wall. He rubbed the bandage on the back of his head and winced in pain. Peter Parker, the man revealed to him to be the super human vigilante called Spider-Man, had injured him in their encounter a few brief hours ago, but Fisk didn’t mind. He had been given a most unexpected gift.
The arachnid thorn in his side had played into his hand more than the Kingpin could have possibly hoped for, giving the mastermind a chance to rid himself of this pest once and for all. Now, Spider-Man would suffer.
“…Daily Bugle has declined any comment, as of yet, on the situation involving one its long-time employees…”
“Mr. Fisk?”
The Kingpin turned his gaze from the T.V. to the voice entering the door to his office. Wayne Gremil, Fisk’s personal assistant, walked towards the desk, busily typing on his Blackberry.
“Ah, Mr. Gremil,” Fisk said with a sly smile. “How goes business?”
“Fine sir,” he answered. “I have contacted the appropriate people. Mr. Parker will be transferred as soon as possible on the premise that he is a ‘continued threat’.”
The Kingpin nodded. “Very well. You know what to do once he has arrived to his final destination.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. Good news, actually,” Gremil responded.
‘Good news’ the Kingpin thought to himself. There was nothing but good news today, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
********************
“DROP YOUR F****** WEAPONS OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO KILL YOU!”
Frank Castle had run out of places to run. It had been an hour since the NYPD had begun its chase through the rooftops and back alleys of Manhattan, and their efforts, and sheer numbers, had finally managed to corner the infamous Punisher.
Castle himself was just about to continue his escape into the massive sewers and tunnels below the city when a massive spotlight lit the dark, dank alley where he was trying to pry open a sewer grate. He spun around, an IMI Desert Eagle .50 in each hand, squinting against the unbearably bright light. He cursed, as he began to make out the silhouettes of at least twenty-five officers surrounding him, weapons trained on his head. There wasn’t going to be an exit strategy here…not without taking the lives of at least a few of these police officers.
The Punisher was a killer, that was certain, but he took his vengeance out on the dirt and scum of the criminal world, like the Kingpin who had lured him into this impossible situation, not cops just doing their civic duty.
“DROP YOUR WEAPONS NOW!!!”
With one last look around, and a final silent threat to rip Wilson Fisk’s throat out by its roots, Frank Castle lowered his arms and dropped his guns to the ground. Immediately, the mass of uniformed officers moved in around the Punisher, forcing him to his knees, then hard onto his stomach. They stripped the many weapons he carried from his body.
He groaned as they pulled his arms behind his back to cuff him. Through the mayhem of shouting voices and an officer reading him his rights, Castle began to focus in on another voice. One he had become all too familiar with these past few days; one that made anger boil in the pit of his stomach like nothing else. It was The Kingpin’s, coming from somewhere above him, probably a television turned up way too loud to block out the annoying ruckus taking place outside…
“…This vicious attack on my person will not go without justice…”
“And vengeance, fat a**,” The Punisher whispered to himself, as the officers dragged him to his feet. “Don’t forget the vengeance that’s going to be coming your way.”
********************
“Can I help you?”
“Yes you can,” Matt Murdock said with a smile to the rather plump and intimidating female officer seated behind the desk. “I’m here to see Mr. Parker. I was told that he was taken to this precinct for booking.”
“Yeah, as far as I know, but he ain’t seeing any visitors,” the officer shot back. “You his lawyer?”
“Yes I am,” Murdock said sternly in response, handing the officer his card. “I trust my client hasn’t had his privacy violated yet?”
“If you mean strip searched, no, not yet at least” the officer said, recognizing the name of one of New York’s most prominent attorneys. “But he was patted down on the scene. Nothing out of the ordinary was found, so they are saving the other fun stuff for when he’s shipped to Riker’s.”
“Riker’s,” Murdock said, a look of concern growing on his face. “Why so soon? When? Who cleared this order?”
“Listen pal, I don’t know what ta tell ya. The order came down from on high somewhere, probably ‘cause they feel he’s a bigger threat than he looks. Tell ya the truth? That white-boy doesn’t look like he could bench press a kitten,” the officer said with a wink and a smirk at Daredevil. “As for when he’s leavin’? Probably within the hour if his paperwork is processed.”
Murdock sighed grimly. He knew that Fisk was behind this quick transfer. He was beginning to realize that they were all underestimating the power that Wilson Fisk was currently wielding.
“I need to see him immediately.”
“I’ll take you back,” the officer huffed, rising from the relieved office chair where she was seated.
She led Murdock through the precinct’s holding pens and through a large metal door into what a hall of tightly placed interrogation rooms. She stopped at the third metal and reinforced glass door, and opened it, allowing Murdock to enter.
“You have five minutes,” the officer said, closing the door behind Daredevil. “I’ll be back.”
The door slammed, and Murdock stood in front of a large metal table where Peter Parker was seated, arms crossed, head down. He didn’t appear to make any movement as Matt approached the chair directly across from him.
“Not a great time to be sleeping,” Matt said, taking a seat.
“I’m not,” Parker replied, lifting his head. “Just reflecting on how stupidly I overreacted.”
Murdock just let out a half-laugh, and cupped his hands around his mouth.
“That’s beside the point now, Peter. You have bigger things to worry about.”
“Heh. Bring it on,” Parker said with a smirk.
“Fisk is using his good press to get around normal procedures. You’re going to be sent to Riker’s Island within the hour.”
“What,” Spider-Man yelled, rising from the chair. “Are you kidding me? That fat piece of…”
“You need to focus now, Peter. I need to know,” Daredevil began, cupping his hands closer to his face, bringing his voice to a whisper. “Are you wearing your costume?”
Peter started at his friend, and sank back into the chair. Since he was first arrested in the Kingpin’s office, his mind had been spinning. How could he have flipped out like that? How could he have walked so easily into this mastermind’s trap? What was going to happen to his family, especially his aunt, when this news hit the television?
He was so angered at himself for losing control and putting everything at risk, that he had totally forgotten that he was now putting his secret identity at risk as well; that he was still wearing his Spider-Man costume beneath his civilian clothes.
“Three minutes,” the officer shouted. “And it looks like the transport officers are here and waiting so hurry it up.”
“Yes or no,” Murdock said, still whispering.
“Yes,” Parker finally replied to Daredevil’s question.
Murdock nodded, and lowered his whisper even further. “Put it behind the toilet, understand?”
“Um, ok,” Parker replied, hearing the words from his friend’s mouth, but their meaning escaping him at the moment.
Murdock nodded again. “Alright. Officer, I need to speak with you immediately. It’s important!”
“What is it,” the officer hollered, hurrying into the interrogation room.
Confused, Spider-Man watched as his ‘lawyer’ whispered into the officer’s ear. The woman’s eyes grew wide, and Peter could only guess as to what Murdock was telling her. Since he had said ‘put it behind the toilet’, Parker assumed that Daredevil was telling the woman about the prisoner’s irritable bowel or something. So, Spider-Man began to wiggle uneasily in his chair, his hands on his stomach.
“Alright, alright,” the officer finally said, visibly disgusted as Murdock backed away from her. “C’mon Mr. Parker, let’s go.”
Peter followed the officer, eyeing Daredevil as he passed. Murdock gave a devious smile. The officer led Parker further down the hall to a room marked ‘bathroom’. The room itself, however, looked more like the sewage pipes that the toilets drained into.
“Make it quick, uh, if you can,” she said waving him into the bathroom. She closed the door behind him, leaving him alone in the disgusting room.
“’Put it behind the toilet’, he says,” Parker whispered to himself, eyeing the cruddy porcelain bowl. “Well, not wearing this again until it’s been washed in kerosene.”
Matt Murdock and the female officer waited outside the bathroom door for Parker. Daredevil began to scan the hall and adjacent rooms. His radar sense picked up the heartbeats and outlines of a number of armed police officers gathered just around the corner. The officer hadn’t been kidding when she had said they were already to whisk Parker off to Riker’s Island. There was no doubt that Peter was in terrible danger.
Fisk knew that Peter was in fact Spider-Man and now he was going out of his way to have the man transferred, as quickly as possible, to a maximum security penitentiary. A place populated with criminals, more than a few of whom were put there by Spider-Man himself. Had the Kingpin decided to leak the information regarding their secret identities to the inmates within Riker’s? If so, Daredevil thought, Parker would be alone in a place packed to the gills with people ready to tear him apart.
“Um, thanks. I, uh, I needed that,” Peter Parker said as he exited the bathroom, rubbing his hands together on a thin sheet of paper towel, and nodding slightly at Murdock.
“Good,” the female officer said approaching Parker, pulling handcuffs from her belt. “Hands behind your back Mr. Parker, your ride to Riker’s has arrived.”
Parker hesitated, but followed her instructions. After cuffing the superhero, the officer led him down the hall towards the waiting officers.
“You’ll be fine Peter,” Murdock said reassuringly as Parker and the officer passed him. “My office will have you out of that hellhole in no time at all.”
“Really? Could you? Wow, that would be awesome,” Peter answered sarcastically.
Once Parker had been escorted out of sight around the corner, Murdock slipped into the dingy bathroom. Holding his breath, he knelt and reached behind the bowl, removing Spider-Man’s folded costume and web shooters.
“Mr. Murdock,” the female officer hollered down the hall. “Time to leave, where are you?”
Daredevil quickly placed the garments into his briefbag, and walked out of the bathroom.
“Sorry,” he said. “I needed to use the restroom.”
“Yeah,” she nodded, surprised, as the two walked down the hall towards the entrance of the precinct. “I’m just shocked that you wanted to go in there after what you told me about your client’s little problem.”
Daredevil just grinned.
********************
“Parker! Peter Parker,” the guard yelled as he walked into the jumble of prisoners seated at long metal tables in the Riker’s Island inmate cafeteria. “Parker!”
“Right here,” Spider-Man replied as he stood up from the table to make himself visible through the sea of orange jumpsuits.
The tall, lanky guard approached and placed a rough hand on Pete’s shoulder. For a split second, with his anger already putting in on edge, Spider-Man thought of how easy it would be to just grab this man by the wrist, and fling him headlong to the other side of the dining hall.
“You have a visitor,”
The thought faded as anger was replaced with curiosity.
“I thought I was restricted from receiving visitors in this wonderful place?”
“Don’t get cocky, newbie,” the guard said, pulling Peter by the arm down the long row of bench seats, towards the exit. “Not my choice, so I don’t give a f***.”
“So caring,” Peter mumbled to himself as the guard practically dragged him out of the cafeteria and into the main prison facility.
They entered a hallway lined with small cubicles with phones and thick pieces of glass separating them from the room outside the hall. As the guard escorted Parker past booth after booth, Peter wondered when they were going to stop so that he could actually see who this visitor was. To his surprise, they just kept on walking until they reached a steel door on the opposite end. The guard punched in a security code, and the two entered into a much smaller hall, this one lined on one side with similar steel doors.
“Was the whole ‘visitor’ thing a lie, just so we could spend some alone time together, officer,” Spider-Man joked.
“Shut the f*** up,” the guard responded as they stopped at the fourth door in the hall. “These are the privacy booths…”
“Like you, me, and a plunger kind-of private?”
The guard’s answer to this sarcastic comment was a swift elbow to the back of Peter’s head. Spider-Man groaned, and the thought of twisting this man into a pretzel returned to the forefront of his mind.
“No, a**, like the kind of privacy where there ain’t any cameras to catch me beating the s*** out of a sarcastic d*** like you,” the guard spit.
He then swung open the door in front of them and tossed Peter into the cramped room.
“Just remember who gets to escort you back out of here,” the guard said with a smile as he shut the door to the room. “You got ten minutes.”
“Ah, nothing like a nice chat with a friendly prison guard,” Peter mumbled as he stared at the door, rubbing his sore head.
“Mr. Parker.”
Peter turned to face the man seated, hands folded, at the other end of the small table. He narrowed his eyes in the dim light, trying hard to recognize his ‘visitor’.
“The one and only,” he replied. “Do I know you?”
“No, you do not,” the suited man answered. “But I know you, Mr. Parker. I have been sent by my employer. Please have a seat.”
“And that would be…”
Before Spider-Man could finish his sentence, the suited man pulled a cell phone from his inside jacket pocket, opened it, and placed it in the center of the table.
“Mr. Parker,” the man said, waving his hand at the open cell phone. “My employer.”
“And how are you enjoying prison, Peter?”
Spider-Man recognized the deep voice immediately.
“FISK,” he roared, slamming his hands on the table. “What the hell do you want?”
“Patience, Peter,” the Kingpin said with a chuckle. “You’re obviously in no position to be making demands. Besides, I’m sure you’re in no hurry to return to that gruel they call prison food.”
Spider-Man felt rage fill the pit of his stomach.
“Have a seat Mr. Parker,” the suited man said, waving his hand towards the chair.
Peter clamped his hands around the back of the chair, almost breaking it off in the process. Trembling, he forced himself to take a breath. He pulled out the chair and took a seat.
“What do we have to discuss,” Peter asked through gritted teeth.
“I have a proposition to make you.”
“I’m not making deals with you Fisk,” Peter growled. “I don’t care how long I’m stuck in here.”
Fisk laughed. “First of all, you do care how long I leave you rotting in there. I know you do, and I’m sure your wife does as well…”
“DON’T YOU TOUCH HER…”
“…Second of all,” the Kingpin continued. “This proposition has nothing to do with your release, my dear Spider-Man. You will sit and accept your punishment for challenging me, until I deem it’s time to see you released.”
“Then, for God’s sake, what could you possibly want with me? Quit playing games Fisk, and just get down to the point. You certainly have me where you want me. You know my identity, I’m locked up in prison…What do you want?”
“Fine, we will get to the point,” Wilson Fisk stated. “As I have said, you are in prison for as long as I want you to be, or until your ‘lawyer’, Matthew Murdock, gets you released, whichever comes first. No matter which option plays out, however, you are going to be stuck there for the foreseeable future.”
“I know threats to your person are useless, though I will assuredly enjoy letting lose a dozen or so inmates at you anyway. Your time at Riker’s can go one of two ways, boy. Either you spend your time brooding in that cesspit, eventually get released, and continue your quest to destroy me, or…”
“Or what,” Spider-Man answered, a large knot forming in the pit of his stomach.
“Or,” The Kingpin began, his voice lowering to its most vicious. “You finish your time in Riker’s without incident, are released, and never threaten me as Spider-Man again…”
“Yeah, I can promise you that is not going to happen…”
“You didn’t let me finish, and you would do well to listen very closely to this part,” Fisk growled. “Finish your time quietly, denounce your vendettas against me, and I do not kill your beautiful wife and dear aunt. Is that understood?”
Peter Parker clutched the table in front of him with such force that the metal began to bend under his strength.
“I will conclude our conversation with this: Your family is being closely watched as we speak. Do not, and I mean this with all sincerity, do not have your friend’s attempt any heroics or those closest to you will die, I assure you. Good-bye.”
With that, Gremil closed the phone on the table, and returned it to his jacket.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Parker,” Gremil said, rising from the table.
He strode to the door, and exited the room, leaving Parker alone in the dim light.
Spider-Man didn’t realize that the Kingpin’s lackey had even left. He sat, slumped in his chair, feeling more defeated and helpless than he ever had before. His worst nightmares were coming true. An enemy from his past with such power and influence had returned, and he, The Amazing Spider-Man, was completely powerless to protect his family.
As the guards entered the room to return Parker to the general inmate area, the Kingpin’s ultimatum replayed in his mind, over and over. What else could be done? Everything he cared for was either destroyed or horribly at risk. Wilson Fisk, The Kingpin of Crime…had won.
********************
...To be continued…
Our heroes are at their lowest point as Wilson Fisk continues to secure his power base. Can they hope to do anything to save those they Love…and themselves…from the once-and-future Kingpin of Crime?
Be here for Amazing Spider-Man #18 as “Return of the King”
Marches towards its dramatic conclusion!!!
