Seeing Dr. Scott's reaction, Elise and Mathew grew increasingly uneasy. They watched as the doctor fumbled to zip his backpack and got to his feet, his movements hurried and tense.
"What's the matter, Doctor? What attack are you talking about and where?" Elise asked, noticing the pallor in his expression as he ended the call. Mathew was about to ask the same question when he caught sight of the surrounding officers. The cops were listening to updates over their radios, their faces growing equally grim.
Dr. Scott finally stood upright, his tone urgent. "The ME's office is on fire. The flames reportedly started in the autopsy room. They found my assistant there, bleeding from a chest wound. He's being rushed to City Hospital as we speak."
"WHAT?" Elise and Mathew exclaimed simultaneously, their disbelief written across their faces. Neither could have imagined something so catastrophic. Dr. Scott grabbed his bag and started heading for the warehouse exit. "I need to get to the hospital. I can't let anything happen to that kid."
"Dr. Scott, wait!" Mathew called out, exchanging a quick look with Elise. They nodded in silent agreement before following him. "We'll take you there."
Elise turned to a nearby officer. "Make sure all the evidence here is properly bagged and tagged. Call for two additional squad cars if necessary."
The trio left the warehouse and got into the detectives' car. As Mathew drove, Elise turned to him, her thoughts racing. "Mathew, what do you think? Fires don't just start on their own. Sure, it's possible with all the chemicals in the ME's office, but…"
Dr. Scott interjected from the backseat, his voice firm. "That's not possible. I strictly follow all safety protocols. Even if I or my assistant had made a mistake, the fire suppression systems would have activated immediately. This was no accident. As I said this is an attack."
"Doc I understand what you must be going through but we can't just declare it an attack. This could escalate things to a whole new level. We will look into this from an arson perspective." Mathew concluded, his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. "The investigators will be on-site by now. They'll confirm it soon enough."
After a tense twenty-minute drive, they arrived at City Hospital. Flashing their badges, they made their way to the fourth floor, where the assistant had been admitted. As they stepped into the lobby, Mathew spotted their precinct captain waiting for them.
"Captain Gates," Mathew called out, hurrying over. The captain, a stocky man in his late forties with a well-worn brown suit, acknowledged them with a nod. His face was etched with concern.
"I figured you two would show up here with Dr. Scott," Gates said. "The assistant is in surgery now. The doctors said the wound was deep—it cracked a rib. If it had gone any further, he wouldn't have made it."
"That's a relief, at least," Mathew said, exhaling slowly. "But who attacked him, and why?"
The captain's gaze hardened. "When the officers found him, he was still conscious. He claimed that ninjas wearing red broke in and stole two corpses."
"Ninjas?" Elise blurted, her disbelief evident. "Are you sure that's what he said?"
Gates nodded solemnly. "You don't forget details about the people who nearly kill you, Elise. The intruders took all the security tapes and even disabled the emergency systems. This was no amateur job."
Elise crossed her arms, her skepticism giving way to contemplation. "So, they knew exactly what they were doing." Her left hand absently massaged a faint scar on her wrist, but Mathew, noticing, chose not to comment.
Captain Gates continued, "You're right. This was methodical. Contact the gangs unit and see if anyone matching that description has been reported for other crimes. Now, what about the warehouse case? I was briefed that some of the victims were Asians in black suits."
Mathew straightened. "Yes, Captain. Their attire and methods suggest a connection to Ronan Carbrey's murder."
Gates' brow furrowed. "If that's the case, then this is bigger than we thought. These people don't strike me as the type to fear law enforcement, which likely means ties to the underworld."
The two detectives exchanged uneasy glances. The underworld's reach was notorious, even extending into law enforcement.
Gates pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to Mathew. "This is a sergeant I trust. Brett Mahoney. He's clean and knows the underworld inside out. I'll handle the paperwork to get him assigned to your case."
Mathew nodded, examining the card. "We'll meet with him today and bring him up to speed."
**
Across the city, Matt Murdock, better known as Daredevil, sat on a worn sofa, his mask resting beside him. A young African-American woman, Claire Temple, tended to a gash on his back. Her hands moved with practiced efficiency, her sharp eyes scanning for any signs of infection.
"The wounds aren't too deep. You'll be fine by morning," Claire said, applying the last bit of antiseptic.
"I had help," Matt muttered, his voice low.
Claire raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Help? I thought you worked alone."
"I do," Matt replied, his tone tinged with reluctance. "But this kid showed up. He was already there when I arrived. He had… a bizarre ability to control water. Even the tide was stronger because of him."
Claire smirked. "A few years ago, I'd have thought you were on drugs if I heard those words come out of your mouth. Now, it sounds like just another Tuesday. So, he helped you. Why? Did he want something?"
Matt pulled his shirt back on, shaking his head. "No. He stepped in when things got rough, then made me an offer—said big things were coming."
"Big things? Like what?" Claire asked with a confused expression on her face.
"I don't know that but he didn't sound like he was joking." Matt said as he was thinking about it again and again. It seemed absurd to believe the words of a kid but when you take everything under account like his powers and fighting prowess, it is pretty hard to ignore his words.
"Don't fill your head with thoughts. The work you do is pretty big too." Claire said as she continued.
"You can't do everything alone, Matt. Maybe it's time to consider teaming up."
Before Matt could reply, Claire's attention was drawn to the muted television. She turned up the volume, her expression darkening as the news anchor reported on the ME's office fire.
"Is this connected to you?" she asked, glancing at Matt.
"No," Matt said firmly. "This is outside Hell's Kitchen." But even as he spoke, a sense of unease gnawed at him. Unknown to him, the stolen corpses and the ME's office were deeply intertwined with his earlier battle.
Matt stood, slipping his mask back on. "I've got court in the morning. I'll see you around."
Claire watched him leave, her worry lingering. The city's shadows were growing darker, and the lines between heroes and villains blurrier than ever.
**
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