When the Smoke Clears

Chapter 4

"Remember me?" Benjamin Poindexter smiled at Karen with all the warmth of a lion bearing his teeth to his prey.

Memories came rushing back to her at once. She recalled Poindexter, dressed as Daredevil, wreaking havoc on all the places that were supposed to be safe. He'd terrorized the Bulletin office, shed blood in a church, and he murdered a good man in his attempt to kill Karen. She remembered Father Lantom's face– blood dripping from his mouth as his lifeless eyes stared at the cathedral ceiling– and her own blood ran cold.

Instinct kicked in. She tried to back away from Poindexter, only to bump into the protestor who'd so graciously been sharing their umbrella with her just moments before. They shot Karen a look, and she was too dumbfounded to do anything when Poindexter pulled her closer and offered an apology to the person for Karen's "clumsiness". Either the person bought it, or they were too annoyed to care. Either way, they moved off without a word, leaving Karen that much more alone with a man who'd tried to kill her.

"This place is getting a little heated," Poindexter said. His gaze slid to the side, where the Serpents were starting to get rowdy with some protestors. "Why don't we go somewhere a little more quiet? To talk."

He grinned at her, and all Karen could see was the malice in his teeth. She highly doubted Poindexter ever wanted just to "talk". She remembered his bloodlust, his disregard for human safety. Then, she remembered the gun in her purse.

Before she could reach for it, Dex had her wrist in hand. He moved with quick, lethal precision, twisting the joint at an awkward angle and squeezing tight enough for Karen to make a quiet sound of pain.

"Let's go," Dex ordered, and started pulling her through the frenzied crowd.

He led her deeper into university grounds. They wove a path against the tide of the crowd, toward the river, Karen noticed. An involuntary shudder passed down her spine at the thought of being alone with him. Her eyes scanned the area, taking note of her surroundings; places she might be able to escape. She tried to calculate how many seconds she could buy herself if she managed to slip away. How many seconds did a man like Poindexter need? Karen still didn't know what he wanted, but she hoped that if he was here to kill her he would've done so already.

"Turn here."

He ushered her to the right, down a path that cut through a couple of campus buildings. It was narrow, dark, and completely abandoned, she noticed pretty quickly. The path continued out the back side of the buildings, where it forked in three directions. They kept walking straight, toward the East River and its choppy waters. The river looked cold and violent beneath the intensifying rain, sending another shudder down Karen's spine. It was here Poindexter brought them to a stop and released her arm.

"What do you want?" Karen asked. She tried to portray strength, maybe even annoyance, but her fear and the tremble it created in her voice betrayed her.

Dex gave her a smirk, suggesting her show did little more than amuse him. "I'm here to offer you a job."

"A job?" Karen gawked. "From who? Fisk?" It wouldn't be the first time one of his lap dogs tried to intimidate her into working for him, but last she'd checked, the two weren't exactly on good terms.

Dex's expression darkened. "Fisk's locked up," he said. "For now. Someone else is running things in his stead. Real forward-thinker. I think you'd like her."

"I think I'll pass," Karen said. She took a step back, only for Poindexter to step forward and close the distance between them again.

"Look," he said, "we all know Fisk won't stay behind bars for long. Prison doesn't suit him; never has. He's going to get out, and when he does, he's going to want his city back."

To that, Karen said nothing. She knew enough about Fisk to know that was true.

"But this... new player," Dex continued, "thinks she can change things. With your help, Fisk won't have anything to come back to."

"With my help?" Karen almost-laughed. If the last two months taught her anything, it was that she was expendable. She was one in a sea of millions; a grain of sand. The world had clearly gone on without her. It didn't need her then, and it certainly didn't need her now.

"People listen to you, for whatever reason." Dex made a face, like his own words made him want to vomit. "My boss seems to think you can help change the narrative; take the city out from under Fisk, one story at a time."

"So, trade one crime lord for another." Karen surmised.

Dex rolled his eyes. "I know there's a lot you're catching up on," he said, "but the city's ninety-percent crime lord at this point. Just look at those GRC idiots, for Christ sake."

He motioned toward the area they'd just left, where the GRC members had been standing on the steps, elevating themselves from others with their false smiles and thinly-disguised dreams of gentrification. "Life's nothing but a choice between two evils, Karen. You should know that better than most."

He flashed her a dark, knowing look. Benjamin Poindexter knew things about Karen most people didn't. Thanks to Fisk, he knew her darkest secrets; the blood that was on her hands. She hated that fact, that someone so vile could know her in such an intimate, vulnerable way. At the same time, she knew Dex wasn't wrong. There was no "good versus evil". There were just people, doing what they had to do to survive. "Good" was subjective.

"Personally," Dex said, "I think you're a waste of space. I think you'd be better off going back to whatever hole you crawled out of." Stepping closer again, he lowered his lips to her ear and whispered: "Permanently this time."

Karen tried to pull back, only to have her arm grabbed again. Poindexter kept her pinned in place as he stared down at her, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath passing over her face. "Take the job, Page," he threatened. "I don't think I need to tell you what the alternative is."

"HEY!" Someone yelled.

Still-gripping Karen, Dex whipped his head around to look over his shoulder. Karen's gaze lifted to peer past him. Standing in the rain was another black-clad figure; another ghost from her past. Her heart squeezed, and fresh tears pricked her blue eyes. A single word spilled from her trembling lips.

"Frank..."