Chapter 649

Evenson had definitely asked the right person.

47 actually knew what had happened in Hell’s Kitchen, and the incident was tied to the company in more ways than one.

According to his report, the explosion had destroyed a secret warehouse belonging to the Russian mob, which controlled practically the entire taxi business in Hell’s Kitchen.

The Russians had no direct connection to the company.

Unfortunately, they were partners with the Fisk organization, which the company was currently helping launder money.

The cause of the explosion was even more bizarre.

It involved the blind courier who worked for Madame Gao, one of the five Fingers of the Hand, and who had personally visited the company that day.

Apparently, he’d strapped himself full of explosives, walked straight into the Russians’ warehouse, and performed what could only be described as the Hand’s most spectacular suicide attack yet.

Madame Gao was also a partner of Fisk’s.

In fact, the three organizations formed a single chain.

Gao supplied the product.

The Russians transported it.

Fisk provided the distribution network and handled the overall operation.

And someone else handled the books.

That made the situation rather suspicious.

"So let me get this straight," Evenson said, frowning. "One of Madame Gao’s blind couriers strapped explosives to himself and walked into a Russian warehouse?"

"Yes," 47 confirmed.

Evenson glanced toward the distant glow illuminating the sky.

"You’re telling me that guy had a cruise missile strapped to his back? Or was he carrying three hundred kilos of explosives on a suicide run?"

The explosion had happened in Hell’s Kitchen, yet people all the way across Brooklyn had felt the tremor.

That wasn’t the kind of damage a single human bomb could cause.

"It wasn’t quite that simple," 47 explained.

"Fisk killed the Russian mob’s second-in-command, who happened to be the current boss’s younger brother. The Russian leader decided to retaliate and began planning an attack against Fisk."

"More than a hundred of his men gathered inside the warehouse. They were distributing weapons at the time. Grenades, grenade launchers, ammunition, everything."

47 paused.

"The explosives they were already storing detonated along with the suicide bomber."

"And that’s why the explosion was so large."

"Exactly."

"Oh."

Evenson leaned back.

Now it made sense.

This wasn’t complicated.

It was a good old-fashioned case of organized crime eating itself.

The money pool was finite.

Once everyone had made enough money together, someone eventually started thinking about the division of profits.

And when there was a fixed amount of money to split, fewer people taking a share was always better.

The accountant couldn’t be touched.

The supplier was too valuable to eliminate.

So the transporters?

The Russians could be sacrificed.

After all, once the operation was reorganized, there’d be no need for them.

No middleman.

No extra cut.

It was beautiful, in a deeply criminal sort of way.

Fisk had clearly been preparing to remove the Russian mob from the equation. As luck would have it, the Russian second-in-command had given him the perfect excuse.

Fisk killed him.

Then he denied involvement and quietly planted enough evidence to point back toward himself.

The Russian boss, exactly as Fisk expected, followed the trail.

Once he’d gathered his men and prepared to retaliate, Madame Gao sent in a human bomb.

One explosion.

Problem solved.

"And the reason you know all this?" Evenson asked.

That part was almost too convenient.

"The masked vigilante I’ve been investigating is also investigating Fisk’s organization."

47 continued.

"He’d already discovered the Russian connection."

A pause.

"And, by sheer coincidence, he happened to be at the warehouse when it exploded."

Evenson stared at the ceiling.

At that point, there wasn’t much detective work left.

If a masked vigilante was at the scene immediately before a catastrophic explosion, the police were going to have questions.

"Two-thirds of the police in Hell’s Kitchen take money from Fisk," 47 added.

"And they’ve already grown hostile toward the vigilante because of his recent habit of fighting crime without their permission."

He sounded almost amused.

"So they’re working together to pin the bombing on him."

A dog chasing a cat while the police protected the dog.

Evenson could practically hear the sirens from here.

"In other words, every thread leads back to us."

Evenson immediately felt a headache coming on.

"That appears to be the case."

47 hesitated.

"So what do I do next?"

Normally, that would have been a field operative’s decision.

This wasn’t normal.

Every possible route led back to the company.

The Fisk money-laundering operation absolutely could not be exposed.

And the masked vigilante was now the prime suspect in a massive bombing.

Blackwatch had already been investigating him.

If they failed to stop the bombing and that fact became public, the newly established organization would look incompetent at best and negligent at worst.

The next move wasn’t something 47 could decide on his own.

"How strong is the vigilante?" Evenson asked.

"Stronger than an ordinary human."

47 chose his words carefully.

"His fighting technique is disciplined. He clearly received extensive combat training. But physically, his abilities remain within normal human limits."

He paused.

"His senses are another matter. They’re unusually sharp. He’s detected me several times while I was following him."

Which, Evenson suspected, was 47’s polite way of explaining why he still hadn’t discovered the man’s identity.

Evenson didn’t care.

"Has the police caught him?"

"Not yet. He’s still at large."

"Then let him stay that way."

Evenson thought for several seconds.

"Don’t interfere with him. If the police catch him, go in under Blackwatch authority and take custody of him."

"And if he’s killed?"

"Bring back the body."

47 listened quietly.

"Until then, don’t do anything. Act as though Blackwatch only became aware of him after the bombing."

Evenson’s eyes narrowed.

"But if SHIELD gets involved, contact them immediately."

He leaned forward.

"Don’t volunteer anything beyond the basics. Tell them you saw the target enter the warehouse and then the explosion happened."

"As for who gets custody of him, you can give them some ground."

Evenson shrugged.

"I don’t particularly care about the vigilante himself."

The explosion had happened in Hell’s Kitchen, but that was still New York City.

Nearly a hundred people had been killed or injured.

The scale was even worse than the casualties from the Mandarin’s recent terrorist attack.

An incident that large was exactly the kind of thing SHIELD might take an interest in.

And hiding information from SHIELD would accomplish very little.

It was better to cooperate and make sure Blackwatch wasn’t implicated.

"Fully cooperate with SHIELD."

Evenson’s expression hardened.

"Then find a way to eliminate the vigilante."

There were reasons for that.

If the police caught him, there was no real danger.

Hell’s Kitchen was crawling with corrupt cops. Whatever the vigilante said would be buried.

Even if the man somehow managed to turn the tables, expose Fisk, and bring the whole operation crashing down, there was still a final safeguard.

The Eredar twins had already made their expectations very clear.

He would never dare mention the company.

But SHIELD was different.

They didn’t need prosecutors or courts to investigate something.

They didn’t need to make a public spectacle of it.

They could follow one suspicious financial record into another until they eventually discovered the company’s involvement in Fisk’s money laundering.

Yes, SHIELD was currently controlled by HYDRA.

Yes, the company also had a good relationship with HYDRA’s senior figure, Alexander Pierce’s circle through Malik.

But HYDRA wasn’t exactly a unified organization.

Different factions had different interests.

If the company was currently doing business with Malik, another faction might even be more aggressive toward them.

So if SHIELD went looking for the masked vigilante...

Better to make sure he couldn’t talk first.

"Damn it."

After finishing the call, Evenson tossed the phone aside.

He waved for Moira to leave.

Then he glanced toward the window.

"It’s morning already."

He sighed.

"I need to go home. Claire should be finishing night school soon."

He grimaced.

"And she may have questions about why more than twenty Kamar-Taj sorcerers died in our building."

"Indeed."

Saloras stood and stretched extravagantly.

"It’s morning."

She smiled.

"And morning is the perfect time to start the day properly."

"Agreed."

Oleses gave Evenson a sidelong glance.

Then she slowly slipped off her high heels and set them aside.

Evenson frowned.

Well...

She had a point.

Maintaining good physical health required regular morning exercise.

There was nothing wrong with that.

He drained his glass and walked toward the twins.

He sat down between them.

He was just about to take things further when Saloras suddenly froze.

Her expression changed.

She immediately stood and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Oleses reacted at nearly the same time.

She shoved Evenson aside and went to the window, raising one hand.

With a small gesture, the scene outside transformed.

Space itself seemed to have broken.

Buildings lay flat across the ground as though someone had knocked them over.

Streets hung upside down in the distance.

Then the distortion became even stranger.

Roads twisted into enormous spirals through the sky.

Cars traveled along them as though nothing were wrong.

Pedestrians walked normally, apparently oblivious to the fact that the world around them had become geometrically impossible.

Buildings rotated like enormous gears.

People standing beside them didn’t even look up.

Evenson’s expression changed.

He’d seen this before.

He and the Eredar twins had encountered it once already.

The Mirror Dimension.

The Ancient One’s signature grand-scale spatial spell.

As far as Evenson knew, she was the only person in Kamar-Taj capable of deploying something on this scale so casually.

"This is..."

He stared through the glass.

"Did the Ancient One come here because of those twenty-something dead sorcerers?"

It wasn’t really a question.

What else could it be?

Twenty Kamar-Taj sorcerers had died in the building the previous night.

Now, at dawn, the Ancient One was putting on a spectacular display right outside.

The timing wasn’t subtle.

"I don’t know."

Oleses tilted her head.

"But it doesn’t matter."

She glanced around.

"Her Mirror Dimension can’t affect the inside of this building."

Her expression sharpened.

"But if she comes inside..."

The Eredar twins simultaneously sat down on the couch.

Their posture was suddenly relaxed.

Almost regal.

"Then we’ll show her what the Eredar Magical Workshop can do."

Oleses smiled.

"We can have a proper contest of the mystic arts right here."

The moment she finished speaking, tiny golden sparks suddenly flickered in the air nearby.

They tried to connect.

Failed.

Tried again.

Still failed.

"Looks like someone is getting impatient."

Oleses picked up her drink and took a slow sip.

Then she snapped her fingers.

The golden sparks finally connected, forming a perfect circle.

A portal opened.

The three of them immediately became alert.

The Ancient One was coming.

Or so they thought.

"Evenson Richter!"

A woman jumped through the portal.

"Which one of you is Evenson Richter?"

She wasn’t the Ancient One.

She was a woman Evenson had never seen before, probably around forty.

Blood stained her hands.

There was blood on her face as well.

"That’s me."

Evenson stepped forward without hesitation.

There wasn’t exactly anywhere else he could hide.

He was the only man in the room.

"Come with me!"

The woman hurried toward him, panic written across her face.

"What happened?"

Evenson took one cautious step backward.

He wasn’t about to blindly walk through a portal because a stranger told him to.

For all he knew, they’d shut the portal behind him and have the Ancient One waiting on the other side.

"A group of traitors attacked the Sanctum library."

The woman barely got the words out before Evenson’s stomach dropped.

"Claire was seriously injured during the attack."

Her eyes filled with tears.

Her voice cracked.

"Please. You have to come with me. Don’t let her die with regrets."

Evenson’s hands went cold.

His mind went blank.

Whatever else the woman said afterward, he barely heard it.

"I’ll go."

His voice came out rough.

"I’ll go."

"You should go."

Oleses gently tapped her right arm.

Her eyes were serious as she looked at him.

"If you need us, we’ll be there immediately."

"Okay."

Evenson nodded.

He understood what she meant.

The twins’ marks were still on his body.

If something went wrong on the other side of the portal, they would know immediately.

Even if they couldn’t physically reach him at once, they could use magic to pull him back.

With that reassurance, Evenson stepped toward the portal.

Claire was in trouble.

And nothing else mattered.