Hellcat

Chapter Nine

"Devil, my shapely Irish ass," Foggy grumbled, staring at the newspaper in his hands. The front-page article was about the night of the bombings and the supposed terrorist who orchestrated the whole thing – the man in black. The four of us were in the office late. A few nights had passed since then and things were a bit awkward between me and Matt. As much as we tried to hide it from the others, I had a sense Karen knew something was off. Foggy didn't pay too much attention to it because he was preoccupied with hating the man in black, dubbed the Devil of Hell's Kitchen by the media.

"Guy's a coward," Foggy added. My gaze flickered to Matt for only a moment. If only Foggy knew how wrong he was. "What I wouldn't give for the chance to rip that corny mask off and..." Foggy trailed off, making a tough face as he balled up his fists. Matt was paying him no mind, running his fingers over braille documents. "And what?" Karen asked, a hint of skepticism in her voice. "Punch him... in the face... with my... fisticuffs," Foggy said, holding up his clenched fists and shaking them slightly. I chanced another glance at Matt to see a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. "I don't know, he seems, uh... pretty fisticuffy," Karen replied with a small shrug and a smile.

"Please tell me I don't detect a hint of admiration for that terrorist," Foggy said, gesturing to the newspaper he had set onto the table. "This is just all speculation. Nobody knows if he's a terrorist or what," Karen defended herself. "You're absolutely right. Terrorists have causes. They claim responsibility. Al-Qaeda wanted the world to know exactly what kind of assholes they were," Foggy said sternly. I felt my shoulders stiffen.

"Foggy," Matt called softly, an edge to his voice. "What?" Foggy asked. There was a pause and then I felt eyes on me. My gaze was locked on the paperwork before me, but my hand had frozen in its work, fingers gripping the pen tightly as my knuckles turned white. "Oh. Right. Sorry," Foggy muttered softly. I forced myself to take a breath and relax. I let the pen fall to the desk and I lifted my gaze to Foggy. "It's okay. I don't have a monopoly on anger at terrorists," I told him, keeping my voice light. But it failed because I could hear the strain in my words.

"But you agree, right? Terrorist claim responsibility. This guy? Not a peep. All terror without the "-ist". You know what they call that? Nut job," Foggy continued on his rant. He grabbed a baseball from the table and threw it up. Catching it, he winced, having strained his injured side. "How's your side?" Karen asked, wincing in sympathy. "Downgraded to agony," Foggy ground out, biting his bottom lip.

"All right, what do you think, Matt?" Karen asked, referring to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. "I think Foggy'll be pitching for the Mets by mid-season," Matt teased, ignoring the subject. Foggy and Karen both chuckled and I cracked a smile. "I'm being serious," Karen told him. "So am I. Have you seen their bullpen?" Matt countered to her.

"Come on, you telling me this dickhead blowing up our backyard doesn't piss you off?" Foggy asked him. "What happened to Hell's Kitchen, to you and to Elena and Allison, and to all the people that were hurt... yeah, it pisses me off," Matt started with a nod, folding his hands together. I felt my stitches start to itch in my arm but I forced myself to ignore them. "But this man, whoever he is, whatever his motive, he shouldn't be tried and convicted in the press. We're lawyers, we know that's not how it's supposed to work," Matt explained in a clinical fashion.

"So, uh, hypothetically, if this guy got caught... needed counsel, Nelson and Murdock would offer to defend him?" Karen asked. She was hesitant in her words, but I figured that she needed a serious answer. From what I pieced together, the man in black had saved her life. "Hell no," Foggy snapped quickly. "It would be his right," Matt reminded his partner.

"What about my right to punch him in the melon? They pulled a piece of glass out of my side, and one from Allison's arm. Elena needed 12 stitches. And you want to Perry Mason the guy responsible?" Foggy asked, true confusion on his face. "I wanna make sure the right person pays for what happened," Matt explained softly.