Chapter 6 – I'm Tryin' to Save Your Fucking Life

Matt

The next afternoon, Gao's driver took Matt to an apartment building on East 22nd Street near Gramercy Park. After Fisk's arrest, Vanessa returned to the apartment where she lived before her marriage. Now her husband had joined her there. After he stepped out of the elevator on the eighth floor, Matt recognized the man who opened the door and admitted him to the apartment. He had been at the warehouse on the river where Matt fought Nobu, and Nobu died a fiery death – or so he thought at the time. He guided Matt to a room at the end of a hallway, apparently a home office. Fisk was seated behind a large desk, Vanessa at his side.

When Matt appeared in the doorway, Vanessa said, "Thank you, Francis. You may leave us." Francis stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Matthew Murdock," Fisk growled. His heartbeat and breathing remained steady. He wasn't going to attack, not right away, anyway. Matt let out his breath. He wasn't sure how long he'd been holding it. "I suppose you expect me to thank you for getting me out."

Matt didn't answer him immediately. He inclined his head in Vanessa's direction. "Mrs. Fisk."

"Matthew."

Then he turned back to face Fisk. "It's not necessary to thank me, but you may want to later."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Fisk demanded.

"First things first," Matt told him. "I was sent here to get your signature on several deeds transferring the title to certain properties in Hell's Kitchen."

"And why would I do that?"

"You need to keep Vanessa safe."

"You!" Fisk roared. "You dare to threaten Vanessa!" He surged to his feet and started to charge toward Matt.

Vanessa's hand on his arm held him back. "Wilson. Please," she said, softly but firmly.

Matt took a deep breath. His heart slowed. "There is a threat to Vanessa, but I'm not it," he said. "We have a deal. I intend to honor it – as long as you do."

"Who's the threat?" Fisk demanded. "Tell me!"

"Do you remember Madame Gao and Nobu?" Matt asked.

"Yes, of course. What about them?" Fisk asked indifferently.

Matt realized Fisk didn't know. Shit. "You really don't know, do you? Who they really are?"

Fisk took a step in Matt's direction. "Don't play games with me, Murdock."

Matt didn't move. "This is no game." He waved his hand. "Take a seat, please, and I'll explain." He walked to the nearest chair and sat down.

"All right," Fisk grumbled, resuming his seat.

"Madame Gao and Nobu are – were – part of an ancient organization with unimaginable reach and power. It's partly a cult, partly a criminal enterprise. They call themselves the Hand."

"Never heard of it."

"No, you wouldn't have. But when you thought they were working for you, they weren't. You were working for them. How do you think you were able to control so many cops and judges and politicians, not to mention the media? It was because the Hand already owned them. The 'Better Tomorrow' initiative? That was their idea, not yours. It had only one purpose: to secure the Midland Circle site."

Fisk's sudden intake of breath told Matt he was right. "So that's why – " Fisk muttered thoughtfully.

"They had to have that site, didn't they? No other property would do. Didn't you ever wonder why?"

"Not really."

"It wasn't the land, it was what was below it."

"Below it?"

"Yes." Matt thought for a minute. "You thought Nobu died that night, at your warehouse, but he didn't."

"That's insane. We all saw him burn. Well, all of us except you," Fisk sneered.

Matt ignored the dig. "Yes, he died that night. But he didn't stay dead. I fought him a year later. He killed . . . a woman. Then he was killed, again. He stayed dead, that time."

"Impossible," Fisk declared.

"Nobu and Gao – the Hand – they've come back from death many times. But they needed what was below Midland Circle to do it."

Fisk scoffed. "Fantasies."

Matt stood and faced him. "God damn it, Fisk, I'm tryin' to save your fucking life. And your wife's."

Then Vanessa was on her feet, standing next to her husband and whispering in his ear, "Just hear him out, Wilson. Then you can decide."

"I know it sounds crazy." Matt said. "I didn't believe it, either. At first. But Nobu and the woman he killed, they both came back. I know. I was there."

"How could you be sure it was them? You couldn't see them, after all."

"You don't have to see a person to know them."

"No, I suppose not," Fisk muttered.

Matt reached into his briefcase and pulled out the sheaf of documents he'd prepared. He held them out to Fisk, who took them from him. "Take a look at where the properties are," he said.

Fisk flipped through the papers. His heart rate sped up as he did so, probably when he saw how much he thought he was going to be paid for the properties. Gao was right: Fisk was strapped for cash. He looked up and said, "All Midland Circle-adjacent."

"Exactly," Matt confirmed. "This is how Gao gets access to the site."

"But doesn't her . . . organization already own the site? Why does she need these properties to get access to it?"

"The City and State have taken over the site while doing the clean-up," Matt explained. "And once the clean-up is completed, they're going to want reimbursement for the costs. My fellow members of the bar – " He smirked. " – will get involved, along with who-knows-how-many insurance companies. The property will be tied up in litigation, probably for years. Gao can't wait that long."

Fisk sighed heavily. "Yeah, you're right about that. But if I sign over these properties – " He gestured with the hand holding the papers. "Doesn't that just give Gao what she wants?"

"Not immediately. It's only the first step," Matt explained. "And if things work out according to my plan, she'll never get control of them."

"You're double-crossing her," Fisk said.

Matt smirked again. "Something like that."

"How do I get the money?" Fisk asked.

Matt smiled to himself. The fish was hooked. He reached into his breast pocket and took out his phone. "The funds are in an escrow account." He held out the phone so Fisk could see a screenshot of an account he created that morning. Fisk didn't need to know the account would be emptied as soon as Matt got back to the office behind the restaurant. "Only you can access the account. You can access the account, and the funds will be released, as soon as the deeds are recorded tomorrow morning. You'll need the account number and password. I'll activate the password after the deeds are recorded." Matt recited them from memory. A pen scratched across paper as Vanessa took down the information.

"Got it," Vanessa said.

Matt returned the phone to his pocket and took out a pen. He held it out to Fisk, but the big man didn't take it.

"How do I know I can trust you?" he demanded.

"You don't," Matt said flatly. "But consider this: I've held up my end of our deal, haven't I?"

"So far," Fisk conceded grudgingly.

"There's also this," Matt added. "We're on the same side here. We both want to stop Gao. This is how we do that, plus you walk away with a nice chunk of change." He held out the pen again, but Vanessa reached out and blocked his hand.

"Wait a minute," she said. "If what you're saying is true – "

"It is."

"If what you're saying is true," she began again, "the moment he signs those papers, Wilson is expendable."

Matt nodded solemnly. "Probably," he agreed. He wasn't about to disclose what Gao really had planned for Fisk.

"We need to run," Vanessa said.

That was the last thing Matt wanted. If they ran, Fisk would slip through his grasp. Again. "No," he said flatly. "The Hand has a long reach. They'll find you, no matter where you go."

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Fisk demanded.

"Leave it to me," Matt said. "I know the Hand, I've dealt with them before." Fisk didn't need to know that his last encounter with the Hand ended with a building falling on him.

"You're working with Gao," Fisk pointed out. "Kill her yourself."

"She can be killed, but it isn't easy," Matt replied. "And I don't kill people. You know that."

Fisk scoffed. "Half measures. They won't stop her – or me."

"Maybe," Matt admitted. Then he held out the pen again. "Are you going to sign, or not?"

After what felt like a long time, but probably was only a couple of minutes, Fisk's heart rate ticked up slightly; he had reached a decision. "All right," he said slowly. "We'll try it your way." He took the pen and signed. "But know this," he said as he handed the pen back to Matt, "if this doesn't work, you will pay. And so will Nelson and Ms. Page."

"Understood." Matt took the signed documents from Fisk and shoved them in his briefcase. Then he pulled out his phone again. He recited its number. "Put this number in your phones." He held out the phone. "Put your numbers in. I'll let you know when they're coming for you."

Vanessa took the phone from him. "How will you know?" she asked.

"I'll be nearby. I'll hear them," Matt told her. Vanessa finished entering the numbers and handed the phone back to him. He put it in his briefcase, then stood up and crossed the room to the door. He stopped there and turned around. "Watch your backs," he said, and left them.

Gao's driver dropped Matt at the restaurant and drove away. He went into the building, through the dining room and kitchen, and into Gao's hidden room. She looked up from whatever she was doing when Matt walked in.

"He signed," Matt told her.

"Good."

"I'll record and file the documents in the morning."

"All right."

Gao didn't seem interested in further conversation, so Matt went into his office and closed the door. He opened his laptop and pulled up the escrow account he'd shown to Fisk. A few voice commands, and the account was empty, the funds on their way to their final destination. Then he opened his briefcase. All of the documents he'd spent the past week preparing were there, along with copies of the information he needed for the money transfers, and one set of documents he'd kept secret. He hoped. He pulled them out of the briefcase and put them in a large envelope he found in the desk. He addressed the envelope to himself, at the post office box he'd rented for his solo law practice. Good thing he paid for a year in advance. He was probably going to need it again. He found the nearest post office and mailed the envelope, paying the extra cost for overnight delivery.

It was late when he returned to the restaurant, after finding dinner near the post office, followed by a long walk. He spent the time going over his plan in his head, until he was satisfied he'd covered all the bases. The only wild card was Fisk: he would have a plan of his own. Matt only hoped he could block it.

The restaurant was almost empty, only two men sitting in a booth, when he walked in. He checked Gao's room behind the kitchen, but she wasn't there. He dropped his briefcase on the desk and sat down, leaning back with his hands behind his head. He let his focus drift, but only for an instant. There was no time to waste. He needed to get back to 22nd Street so he could be there when Gao's assassins showed up. Then he heard it: one of the men in the restaurant was saying, "Time to go. Call your guys."

The other man laughed, a short, sharp bark. "Yeah, that fat, bald prick will never know what hit him."

Shit. They were going after Fisk. Matt pulled out his phone and called him. Vanessa answered. "They're coming for you," Matt said. "I'm on my way." He ended the call without waiting for her to respond.

He raced up the back stairs to his apartment. There he changed out of his business suit into dark clothes (he hoped) and laced up his boots. Then he tore a strip from a T-shirt to use as a mask and stuffed it in his pocket. Leaving his cane and dark glasses behind, he raced down the stairs and emerged onto the street, where he hailed a cab. It dropped him off down the street from Vanessa's address. He threw some bills at the driver and sprinted down the sidewalk toward the building where the Fisks' apartment was located. The doorman lay in a crumpled heap in the lobby. Gao's men were already there. Matt swore under his breath and kept moving. He wrapped his mask around his head and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

When he emerged on the eighth floor, the sounds of a struggle were coming from his right. The door to the Fisks' apartment was open. He paused in the foyer to orient himself. Whatever was happening, it was happening in the large room directly in front of him. He heard Fisk's roar and the thud of a fist hitting flesh. There were eight men in the room, two of them already down. He started to move forward, then stopped. Something didn't feel right about the men who were fighting Fisk. They weren't the trained assassins he was expecting. Their fighting style said they were street thugs, probably recruited from Hell's Kitchen or the Lower East Side. The Hand must have lost a lot of people at Midland Circle, more than he'd thought. He shrugged. It didn't make any difference. Whoever they were, he had to stop them.

Matt came up behind Fisk and pulled off one of the two men who were attacking the big man – ineffectually, it seemed. Two swift punches, one to the jaw and one to the temple, and the man joined the two who were already on the floor. Now there were three of Gao's men left against Fisk, his security man Francis, and himself. Matt liked those odds. Until one of Gao's men pulled out a nine millimeter.

"Gun!" Matt yelled as he pushed Fisk to one side, then tucked and rolled to dodge the bullet that ended up lodged in the far wall. He sensed movement behind him, someone moving away from him, toward the door. Before he could identify that person, Gao's man raised the gun again. Matt scrambled to his feet. He unleashed a kick that struck the man's wrist, forcing him to drop the weapon. Matt threw the gun aside and began pummeling him.

When Matt's opponent lay motionless on the floor, he noticed that only he and Francis remained to fight Gao's two remaining men. Fisk had disappeared. Damn. He was pretty sure he knew what Fisk was up to. No time to deal with that now. One of Gao's men was creeping toward the gun Matt had thrown aside. Matt leaped and twisted, striking the man full in the chest. He picked up the gun and hit Gao's man in the head with the butt. He fell to the floor and didn't get up. At the same time, Francis pulled out his own gun and fired, hitting their last opponent in the leg. He howled in pain and collapsed.

"Where's Fisk?" Matt yelled. Francis didn't answer him. He got his answer when he heard the elevator doors open and close. Fisk and Vanessa were running. He ran down the stairs after them. By the time he reached the lobby, a vehicle was pulling away from the curb in front of the building. He pulled off his mask and ran out onto the sidewalk to hail a cab, but all of the passing taxis were occupied. "Fuck," he swore under his breath as the sound of Fisk's vehicle faded away.

All he could do now was carry out the rest of his plan. Fisk was gone, but he would be brought to justice eventually. Matt had to believe that. He only hoped he would be the one to do it. In the meantime, the fallout from Fisk's escape was going to be ugly. He squared his shoulders and headed back to Chinatown.

Gao's hidden room behind the restaurant kitchen was empty. He went into his office, opened the laptop, and began the money transfers that would complete his plan. Leaving behind the phone and laptop supplied by Gao, he went upstairs to his apartment, threw his clothes into his duffel bag, and left. He wanted nothing more than to go home, to his own apartment, but he couldn't risk it. He had to be certain Gao was gone. He found a (relatively) cheap hotel in Chelsea, where he spent a restless night. The sounds and smells of the hotel grated on his senses, but they weren't what kept him awake. Tomorrow he would have to try to explain . . . everything to Foggy and Karen.