Devil's Redemption

Anthony

23rd March
8:30 PM

Anthony pulled his hood tight over his head as he stepped out of the door. Foggy was before him and Karen was locking the door behind her. All three of them had their hoods pulled over their heads too. At first glance, it would be incredibly hard to spot who they were.

Their car stood where they had parked it yesterday. It still looked like a complete mess. Foggy wondered if it would be better to buy a new car rather fix this one. Together, the trio started walking down the street.

The night wind was neither chilly nor warm. But it had a piercing effect to it which made them wince every time it brushed past them. Their boots made heavy noises in the silent street against the gravel as they walked. The three of them kept looking over their shoulders and all around them to make sure they weren't being followed or spotted. Especially, Karen. She had revealed to them that she had a gun with her. From what Foggy and Karen talked about it, she had already shot men with it before. (Anthony had had a glance at it. It was a Glock 33 model and had fit in his hands like a glove. He had owned one of them before in his teenage when he was practicing on targets.)

Since she had a gun, she brought the rear, guarding all three of them. He had opted to carry the gun and maintain guard but she had refused. She didn't want him shooting anybody again, from what she said.

They walked in silence for some time.

Anthony decided to break it. "Why are we doing this? Why should we be going to Clinton Church at this time?"

"Because we need to find Matt Murdock", Foggy answered. "He might help us in more than one way. And with his help, we could finish what we started. I've even sent him a voice message before we left our apartment. But, let me be clear about it, we aren't being desperate for his help. Even without him, we can manage. Yet, we're just giving this a try. And we're doing this at this time of the hour because there would be very few people in the church now. It lessens our chance of being spotted."

Carefully and cautiously, they walked while Karen kept guard from behind. Her hand was hidden beneath her hood, placed right on the gun. She seemed to be a stronger woman than Anthony had earlier given her credit for.

They reached Clinton church about fifteen minutes later.

It was the biggest structure in the entire block. The tower rose to a 50 feet in the air with a gigantic cross on top of it. There was a meagre terrace of sorts near the top. The chapel was broad enough to house a hundred people inside it at one single time. There was a decorative arch before the church that displayed angles in it.

Anthony, Foggy and Karen walked into Clinton Church. There were just three people in the pews in the church at this time. A pregnant woman was praying so sincerely that her lips trembled as if she was having a fever. A man in his mid-fifties was sitting on the pews with his son who was around twenty years old. They were discussing something in silent tones. The altar looked fresh, heavenly and bright. There were several pillars with a couple of doors on either sides. On the farther left, a staircase led to the tower. All around them on the pillars and on the main altar, there were statues of several angels and saints.

Foggy walked up to a nun who had finished her prayers and enquired about Sister Maggie. She asked them to wait and disappeared behind a door on the right side.

They all sat down on the pews and waited.

"Are you sure nobody followed us here, Karen?" Anthony asked.

"Positive", she replied.

Anthony tried to relax, but he couldn't. His brain was whirring with memories of that car chase last night. For once in his life, he put his hands together and prayed for God to have given him this life and helped him survive last night. He was still in the state of adrenaline shock from what had happened the previous day. So, he kept fidgeting and looking at each pillar, as if he expected Wilson Fisk to jump from behind one of those with a rifle in his hands.

"Good Evening, Sister" Foggy echoed, making Anthony jump back to present. He turned and noticed that they had been joined by another nun.

She was shorter than him and wore a nun's cassock. Her face was wrinkled and yet, she didn't seem like an old lady. There was a breath of youth in her that he couldn't place a finger upon. She seemed like a strict authoritarian, right from the first glance.

"Good evening, Mr. Nelson", she said in an airy voice. She seemed slightly pleased to meet them but was determined not to show it on her face.

"Sister, we would like to know where Matt Murdock is," Karen began. "Anything you could help us with, any address or phone number that he left with you. Anything?"

Sister Maggie took a deep breath. "I assume you both know Matt Murdock more than I know him. When he decides to do something, he does it best and he does it alone. He doesn't involve others in his plan. So, I have no idea where he is. He left me with nothing. I've been trying to find out his whereabouts as well and haven't succeeded until now."

Anthony sensed the hearts of his companions sinking on hearing those words. Karen and Foggy tried to interrogate the nun as much as possible to get any sort of clues. But she had none. They all sat staring at each other, as the nun walked away.

A few steps later, she turned back. "If it means anything to you, just remember who his dad is. He is Jack Murdock's son. I believe he'll be back soon."

She walked away and disappeared behind a door.

Foggy volunteered. "I think it's time we leave."

The three of them stood up and turned around.

Instantly, they drew a collective gasp!

At the entrance of the church, stood a tall man wearing a black blazer and a tie. His hand was holding a semi-automatic rifle. He had a scar that ran from the top of his forehead to his right ear. He walked forward towards them, with his eyes fixed on Anthony.

Behind him, at least ten armed men filed into the church, spreading out.

"Who-Who is this guy?" Karen asked, pulling out her gun.

Anthony placed a hand on hers, stopping her. There was no way they could take on eleven armed men.

"Who are they?" Foggy spluttered.

The man kept walking towards them, his rifle held in his hand like he was ready to fire it at any moment. His strides were calculated and steady. His eyes were unforgiving. He fired a couple of warning shots at the ceiling as he made his way. Several screams were heard.

"That", Anthony said, "is Cillian Nesbitt!"

The Irish had caught them!