Just as the man on the phone had said, a cab arrived outside Matt's building at exactly eight o'clock. Matt was waiting out front, his coat collar popped up to protect him from the wind. The driver came and opened the door for him. The cab smelt as though it had been recently cleaned. The seats were covered with relatively new covers, and the cabbie himself smelt clean and freshly shaven. He was someone who must take great pride in his car and his profession, Matt thought.
"All good to go?" the driver asked, climbing into the front seat.
"Yeah," Matt said.
"You don't mind if I have my tunes playing?"
"No, that's fine."
"Ok, off we go then," the driver said. He turned on the indicator, and a moment later pulled out into the street. Matt could hear the meter ticking over. Occasionally the driver would sing along with the Marvin Gaye tracks he had playing, but they didn't chat. The ride didn't take too long, and Matt could tell that the driver was a good one; fast and direct.
"Watch your step now," the driver said as he opened the door for Matt to climb out.
"Thank-you," Matt said.
"Mr Murdock?" a man said. Matt recognised his voice as the man from the phone call, and Matt held out his hand, which the man shook. "Steve Rogers." A nervous heartbeat betrayed his calm voice.
"Right," Matt said, "Hi."
"Everything all good?" the driver asked.
"I'll call you when we're done," Rogers said.
"Whatever," the driver replied. He leaned in close to Rogers with words meant only for him, but Matt heard all the same, "Next time, she drives, I have coffee."
"I'll let her drive just as soon as you can convince her that speed limits are not targets to be achieved."
"Well I'm going to go use your Amex at Blue Dog and eat all the breakfast foods."
"Just be ready when I call," Rogers called as the driver climbed back into the car. "Ok, you good to move, son?" he asked Matt.
"Just let me just get this straight," Matt said, trying to hide the smile creeping onto his lips. "You're Steve Rogers as in - Captain America, Steve Rogers?" Foggy would be so jealous.
"Hence the reason for a bit of secrecy, son," Rogers said, and took Matt's arm, leading him into the restaurant. It was busy for a Thursday morning, but Matt guessed it was a popular place. Matt listened. He couldn't hear any radio signals outside of the ordinary, so he took it to mean that the place was not bugged. The Captain had chosen neutral territory. "Here, take a seat."
"How did you know where I lived?" Matt asked. He felt around the table, leant his cane against the table and sat down, and listened as the Captain sat down opposite him.
"You're name is on the lease for your apartment, Mr Murdock," Rogers said, and fiddled with the menu.
"And my phone number?"
"It's on the internet. Under the contact details for Nelson and Murdock Attorneys at Law," Rogers said. "My turn for to ask; why is a lawyer from Hell's Kitchen asking questions about a guy with a metal arm?
"Why is Captain America?" Matt furrowed his brow. Rogers didn't answer straight away. He had a feeling there was a lot the Captain wasn't telling him. "I have a lot of questions," Matt said.
"Good, because I thought you might," Rogers said, "And so do I. Firstly, what do you want to eat?"
The change in subject matter almost caught Matt of guard. "So long as it's hot, tasty, and you're paying, I'm not fussed," Matt replied.
"Alright," Rogers said and signalled for service. While the Captain told the waiter which items they'd be ordering, Matt took the chance to figure out who else in the room was working with Rogers and the driver. Matt had a feeling she'd be alone, and at least knowing it was a girl helped. He scanned the room. Man with high cholesterol. Pregnant lady with partner. Old couple with grandchild. Gay couple. Baker lady. Waiter. Hungover man. Lady drinking coffee.
Matt held his attention on the lady. Her heart beat was calm and even. Almost unnaturally so. She was fit and athletic and wearing a foreign perfume that Matt didn't recognise.
"So," Rogers said, breaking Matt's focus on the woman.
"I go first?" Matt asked.
Rogers sighed. "Why not?"
Matt thought for a moment. He didn't have an opening question planned. "Who is the guy with the metal arm?"
Rogers clasped and unclasped his hands nervously. "His name is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, and he's my best friend. Finding Sergeant Barnes and bringing him in safely is my top priority." Matt was mildly surprised that the Captain actually knew the answer to the question, and even more so that that was it. Everything about the Captain's body language and rhythms told Matt he wasn't lying, and he genuinely wanted to safely find this man. Matt wasn't even sure if Rogers knew how to lie. "Why are you asking questions about him?" Rogers asked.
"How do you know that I am?" Matt asked.
"I have people keeping an eye on Google, and other search engines. We have certain search key words and phrases flagged. Ask the too many questions, and we start to wonder why."
"We searched at the office," Matt said, "And you didn't contact the others. How did you know it was me asking?"
"I had background checks run on the three of you," Rogers said. "Yourself, Mr Nelson and Ms Page all checked out. Unsurprisingly, Mr Murdock, everyone dismissed you at once. But I know folks more unlikely than you who have been overlooked. Why would a blind guy be asking questions about the Winter Soldier? Surely it was just a coincidence, your little legal firm looking into my missing person. But I've seen stranger things than a blind guy protecting his city, son."
"What are you talking about?" Matt asked, knowing exactly what Rogers was referring to. He just didn't know how Rogers knew.
"Trust me, Mr Murdock, I only want to help, and I believe you do too."
"Is this man a threat to my city?"
"I don't know," Rogers answered.
"He's dangerous."
"You engaged with him?"
Matt explained his encounter with the stranger. "I only wanted to help, but something inside of him snapped, and he just,"
"I know," the Captain said, and nodded sadly, "I know."
"What's wrong with him?" Matt asked.
Rogers looked around, "I'm sorry Mr Murdock, I'd prefer not to answer that in public."
"How do you know about me? What I can - do?"
"I work with some extremely clever people. Unbelievably clever, one in particular. I don't actually know how to describe him. I believe it's a Sherlock Holmes quote, 'when you eliminate all the options, whatever you are left with must be the truth, however unlikely'. Something like that, I don't know. You, Mr Murdock, added up to be my unlikely truth."
"But how," Matt began, when the food arrived. It smelt fantastic, and Matt realised that he was quite hungry. They ate in silence for a couple of minutes, Matt trying to make as little mess as possible, which isn't easy being blind and trying to eat tacos. But the food was good, and Matt understood why this place had been recommended.
"Who else knows?" Matt asked, wiping his fingers on the napkin.
"About you or Bucky?" Rogers asked.
"Who the hell is Bucky?" Matt asked, trying to get some corn out of his teeth with his tongue, wondering why Rogers was adding other people into this.
Rogers stiffened, and tightened his jaw. "It's his - nickname. Barnes. He's - Bucky to me."
"Oh," Matt said, "Like Foggy, I guess."
"Mm," said Rogers, "But, well, I think the answer to your question is that four know about him, and three about you, not including me."
"But that does include taxi driver and the lady over there with the coffee and the hot cakes?"
"Mr Murdock, know that I would trust those people with my life."
"Yeah, well right now you're trusting them with mine."
"And I'm trusting you with Bucky," Rogers said.
Matt stared in Rogers's direction. Steve really cared about Bucky, and Matt could tell it was hard for the Captain to be letting Matt in on this. "So what's the deal with him? Why's he in Hell's Kitchen?"
"I honestly don't know," Rogers said, "Did you speak to him?"
"Yes, he kept saying that he 'didn't know'. That nothing was how he remembered it."
"That makes sense. He worked down at the docks for a while, back in our day. We have to find him."
"We?"
"Mr Murdock, we need to bring him safety home. I think you understand that."
"Yeah," Matt said. "But out of the whole world, you're asking me to help? You're an Avenger. You could call anyone and,"
"And I've called you. You're right, Murdock. I'm an Avenger. And I want to avenge Bucky and everything they did to him, but I can't," Rogers was getting emotional, and struggling to contain it. Whatever had happened, he at least in part blamed himself. "All I can do is try to bring him back. And everything we've tried over the past year and a bit has led to nothing but dead ends."
"So you need a fresh set of eyes?"
"A new perspective," Rogers said and took a deep breath to compose himself, "Someone else to keep an eye out. Someone we can trust. Because I think he's gotten sloppy. He's gotten slow. If you caught up with him then others with less honourable intentions might be able to do the same."
"What dishonourable intentions?" Matt asked.
"Mr Murdock, I will get you more information, but right now, I just need to know that you're in."
"I need a guarantee that no one else finds out about me," Matt said.
"You have my word," the Captain said. He was so damn sincere, it almost hurt.
"What do you need me to do?" Matt asked.
"For now," Steve said, "Sit tight. But if you hear or see anything of interest, let us know."
"And how will I do that? Light up the Bat-signal?"
"Are you in?"
"Do I still have a choice?"
Rogers gave a slight shrug. "You could still walk away if you wanted, I suppose. But you won't. You care too much," he stood up. "I think we're done here. I'll call you that cab."