Matt Murdock arrived at Rikers Island Prison. He was genuinely surprised to have been invited here, especially since the invitation had come specifically from Wilson Fisk.
It was more than a little strange. Fisk knew his secret identity, yet he had gone through with this anyway. That meant Fisk wasn't looking for the blind lawyer, Matt Murdock—he was looking for Daredevil.
"I'm requesting a meeting with my client. Thank you."
After speaking with the guards, Matt was led to a visiting room. He wondered if it was intentional when he found Fisk already sitting there, calmly slicing into a steak.
"Ah, you've finally arrived, Devil. I was wondering how long I'd have to wait for you."
Fisk spoke while forking a piece of meat into his mouth. Matt sat down and said coldly, "Is this what your prison life looks like, Fisk? It seems quite comfortable."
"Rikers has never been the most comfortable of prisons, Devil."
"I heard things are going well over at the Mansion."
Fisk chuckled at that. "I am not like them, Devil. Neither Hammerhead nor Tombstone are mere humans. They took advantage of their superhuman status to secure certain privileges, and now is simply the time to pay the price."
No matter how one looked at it, Fisk was a regular human being. He wasn't suited for a place like "The Mansion," a prison specifically designed for powered criminals. Furthermore, his reason for seeking out Matt today had nothing to do with debating which prison he belonged in.
"The Hand. I know you and your friends are investigating them. As it happens, I know a thing or two about them myself. It might be of some use to you."
Matt frowned. He hadn't realized Fisk had any ties to the Hand. However, his instinct was to refuse.
"Whatever you're planning, Fisk, your schemes are going to fail. I'm not collaborating with you."
Fisk didn't resort to threats. He simply finished his steak with practiced patience, signaled for the plate to be taken away, and continued.
"Is that so, Devil? Will you let the Hand's next move go unchecked just for the sake of your little sense of justice? Someone might be dying at their hands at this very moment. Perhaps if you knew their movements and their traits a bit sooner, you could save them. Or perhaps..."
Fisk trailed off with a small smile, then offered a preliminary piece of intelligence.
"When the Hand first entered New York, they used several companies associated with Hydra as covers. For instance, Viper Security and A.I.M. They've scrubbed themselves clean now, but that doesn't mean they haven't left a trail, Devil."
A.I.M. had long since been dismantled, and Viper Security had been exposed as a Hydra front during the purge in Budapest and subsequently driven out. However, their real estate and other assets couldn't be liquidated overnight.
So, what happened to them?
They were shuffled through shell companies and sold off at bottom-of-the-barrel prices—straight into the hands of the Hand.
From Fisk's words, Matt could draw a few conclusions. First, the Hand likely wasn't using those facilities anymore; they had embedded themselves deeper into society, with everyone serving as hidden sleepers. Because of this, the original locations had become liabilities and were likely abandoned.
Matt silently considered a second possibility: Fisk's confidence that Matt wouldn't walk away empty-handed suggested that Fisk knew there were still clues to be found near those abandoned sites. Fisk likely already had evidence in hand.
"That may be true, but it's not something I'm willing to consider right now."
Matt made a show of saying goodbye. He intended to verify Fisk's claims himself. If they held water, he would try to investigate on his own without being beholden to the man.
Of course, he would need to call in reinforcements. It would be best to get the entire Defenders involved.
As for Fisk, he simply wore a smile. He was, without a doubt, waiting for Matt to return.
A few days later, the scene was the same, and so were the players.
"It seems you've reached a conclusion, Devil. I assume you now understand the situation you're facing?"
Fisk greeted him with a smirk. He didn't have access to real-time news, but Daredevil's reappearance meant the hero's independent investigation into the Hand had hit a wall.
In reality, Matt's situation was even more troublesome. The enemy had repeatedly cut off his leads and had even sent Elektra to harass him. Meanwhile, the other members of the Defenders had made absolutely no progress.
It was as if the Hand was fixated on him specifically, ignoring everyone else, yet they vanished the moment he tried to pin them down. What truly worried Matt was what they were stalling for. With every passing day of failure, he found himself drawn back to Rikers, back to Fisk.
"Tell me what you want, Fisk. If you're willing to work with your enemies to stop the Hand, what's your price? A reduced sentence?"
"You're overthinking it, Devil. All I want is the destruction of the Hand, nothing more." Fisk continued slicing his steak. "I grew up in Hell's Kitchen. That place is my home, my base, the symbol of everything I am. I will not allow a group of Japanese outsiders to lay a finger on it."
Matt remained silent for a moment, then asked skeptically, "That's it?"
"That's it."
Matt knew Fisk had to be after more than that. His sightless gaze turned sharp as he listened to the rhythm of Fisk's heartbeat. After a long silence, he gave a joyless nod. "I look forward to the help you can provide. I hope you can actually help us find them."
"I will, Devil, believe me. You might find it hard to credit, but I have one natural advantage over the Hand that allows me to find these people who love to hide in the shadows: I am intimately familiar with every single corner of Hell's Kitchen!"
For some reason, the statement made Matt think of Peter Parker.
He wondered if New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was just as familiar with every corner of the city.
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