Chapter Seven
Ryker's Island. Harry Osborn looked up from his cot as he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway once more. In the cell across from Harry's, Wilson Fisk smiled and nodded his head.
"Don't get too comfortable, Osborn," Fisk said.
Harry got up from his cot and walked to the bars of his cell. Two guards approached Fisk's cell. A third guard, with a stubbly goatee, stood at the end of the hallway, taking notes on a clipboard.
"All right, Kingpin," one of the two guards said. "Time for your daily hour of exercise." He unclipped a set of keys from his belt.
"Actually, Mister Fisk's recess time has been extended today, lads," the guard at the end of the hall said in an Irish accent. The other two guards turned and looked at him quizzically. He dropped the clipboard and hurled his pencil like a dart. It flew down the hall and plunged into the jugular of the guard with the keys. He clutched his throat and fell to the floor, blood spurting from his neck.
The second guard reached for his gun, but before he could draw it, the guard at the end of the hall pulled a second pencil from behind his ear and hurled it, bouncing it off the bars of Harry's cell and sending it straight into the other guard's left temple. He fell to the ground, dead.
The guard at the end of the hall removed his cap, revealing a scar in the shape of a targeting sight carved into his forehead. "Double bullseye," he said with a wicked grin. He tossed the cap on the ground and sauntered over to the dead guards, prying the keys out of the first guard's hand.
"Right on schedule, Bullseye," Fisk said.
"A pleasure to be workin' with ya again, Mister Fisk," Bullseye replied. He unlocked Fisk's cell, then kicked the bodies out of the way so he could slide the door open.
Fisk strolled out of his cell, rubbing his hands together. "The air is sweeter when it's free, my friends," he said. "Bullseye, Mister Osborn here will be joining us." He gestured to Harry's cell. "At least, I believe he will?"
Harry could feel the Goblin laughing in delight deep inside his skull. "Yes," Harry said. "I'm in."
"Fair enough," Bullseye said, jingling the keys a few times before unlocking Harry's cell. "Now I suggest we be goin'. This ain't exactly a bed and breakfast."
"Not so fast," Fisk said, holding up his hand. "We've got a few other guests to check out before we go."
"Just how many were you planning on including in your sinister syndicate, Fisk?" Harry asked.
Fisk smiled and stroked his chin. "I think six is a good number, don't you, Mister Osborn?"
. . . . . .
The Triskelion, New York City. Home base of The Ultimates. Nick Fury sat across from Doctor Garner in the lounge, sipping a glass of cognac.
"What do you think of the Courvoisier, doc? It's from Napoleon's personal collection," Fury asked, swirling the ice cubes around in the glass.
"It's great," Garner replied. "But I don't think you invited me into one of the most secure buildings in the world just for cocktails."
"You have to be pretty smart to work at the Summerholt Institute, I guess," Fury replied. "But you're correct. I wanted to discuss your last project at Summerholt. The one that ended with you in a coma."
"What about it?"
"Well I happen to know that the subject of that project was one Clark Kent, and that it was authorized by one Lionel Luthor."
Garner took a sip of the cognac. "And how could you possibly know that?"
"I have the highest security clearance of anyone in the United States, Doctor Garner. That opens a lot of doors."
"What exactly is it that you want to know?"
"I want to know who this kid is, and what you know about him."
"Well, I-"
Just then the door to the lounge burst open, and Tony Stark and Steve Rogers rushed in, carrying the unconscious body of Clark Kent between them.
"Nick, we've got a situation!" Steve yelled.
"What the hell?!" Fury sprang to his feet, spilling his glass of cognac on the floor.
"He inhaled a vaporized form of that green meteor rock," Tony explained as they laid Clark out on a nearby table.
"I asked you idiots to recruit this kid, not kill him!" Nick bellowed. He quickly whipped out a walkie talkie. "I need a medical team to the lounge, pronto!" he screamed into the walkie. Then, to Steve and Tony, "Someone better start explaining, right now!"
"He wasn't as eager to come with us as we'd hoped," Tony said.
"So you kidnapped him?!" Fury yelled.
"There was a fight, Thor blasted one of the meteor rocks with his hammer and Clark breathed in some of the dust," Steve explained. "We couldn't just leave him there, we didn't know if he'd survive."
"Where's Thor now?"
"He said something about needing to get back to Asgard," Tony said.
"Yeah, I bet he did!" Fury yelled. He got the walkie talkie back out and screamed into it. "I said pronto!"
"Yes, well, I'm going to be leaving now," Garner said, setting down his glass of cognac and heading for the door.
"Not so fast, Doctor!" Fury said, grabbing his arm. "You may be the only one in the world who's operated on this kid before. You're not going anywhere!"