Jaws of Death

Chapter 3

James Wesley walked through the high security block of the facility, his hand kept adjusting his tie and he checked the time as he walked. It was of high import that this gets over with as soon as possible. As his boss had mentioned when they had last met, this whole matter of 'inconvenience' had to be swept under the rug before it blew up.

"You're his guy, aren't you?"

James stopped in his tracks. He had been walking along a few empty holding cells that he missed to spot the inmate in this one. Slowly, he turned around. An Asian man with a pockmarked face stood leering behind bars. His nails were almost scratching the bars of his cell with the way he gripped them.

His smile widened. "Remember. Once I finish off that big brute, I'm going to be coming for you."

James shook his head and kept walking. It was probably some guy from the Chinese drug cartel that couldn't quite fit in with his boss's way of managing things and got himself arrested. Big brute, huh? He was sure his boss would chuckle at that remark. Anyway, it was a too trivial matter to worry about, right now.

He reached the cell he was looking for. It was unlocked. Opening it, James Wesley walked inside to meet his employer.

Wilson Fisk.

He was standing where he always stood, doing what he always did whenever James came to visit him. Standing still in the centre of the cell, Wilson Fisk was staring at the wall. To an outsider, the posture might seem eerily calm for such a powerful behemoth of a man. Twice the size of a normal man and quite tall, anyone's first impression of Wilson Fisk was that he was not a man to be trifled with. It was true, for serious reasons. They expected him to throw tantrums, physically dominate and abuse anyone who was in his sight. But James knew, Wilson Fisk wasn't a man who did all that.

He was capable of doing worse.

His calm demeanour was a façade that belied a devilish rage and a supreme sense of self-righteousness. Even now, as James entered, although Fisk seemed calm, James could almost hear the big man's brain whirring with thoughts and plans.

Fisk turned to look at him. In a rugged, deep voice he grunted, "Sit down, James."

Turning around, he just noticed that two chairs were propped up nearby. He sat down on one of them. Fisk kept staring at the wall, not making any effort to join him. He just took a deep breath.

As if, on cue, James spoke. "Are we being recorded?"

Fisk shook his head. "I made sure of it."

"Good. Well, if that's the case....Boss, we've got the woman. We've got Karen Page."

"Does anybody know about it?"

"No one yet. I've managed to indirectly suppress the eye witness accounts. They never made it to the news. But her disappearance won't go unnoticed. Before they link her disappearance to us, we've to make our move fast. Either we have to silence her for good or she must be loaded onto the ship with others by morning. I bet the Kitchen Irish won't mind one more woman-"

Fisk interrupted. "The latter, then. Take her on board. I heard she is pretty attractive, she'll do."

James nodded. There was a bit of silence when James absently stared at Fisk's fingers that he kept flexing. He often did that when his mind was completely preoccupied. James wasn't sure how to break the news.

He cleared his throat, "But..there was a minor inconvenience in the kidnapping, Mr. Fisk."

There was no answer. A silence hung around the cell.

He continued. "Apparently, Ms. Page had been dining with a man when the men kidnapped her. They say that the man was shot twice in the heart while Ms. Page was kidnapped. But... I asked one of ours to verify the situation. And.."

"And?"

"No other dead body was found in the premises, except for a waitress."

Silence. Fisk flexed his fingers even harder. Slowly, he turned around and walked up to the chair and sat on it. His eyes locked onto James Wesley's.

"Who was sent?"

"It were Morgan's men. There were no one he could find and so, he says he turned to a group of small time drug peddlers to carry this out."

Fisk inhaled sharply. James could feel the fury in his voice as he spoke with a reinforced calm, "Ask Lyman to tie up this loose end and kill Morgan along with these drug peddlers. Immediately! We can't have men who are inefficient and hare-brained."

James had expected this. He himself had decided on this course of action. But he needed to ask Fisk for an approval, just a little touch of respect to the hierarchy of work.

He stood up from the chair. "I've done everything you had asked me to do last time. The women would be loaded on the ship tomorrow morning at five o' clock. I will ensure of it at all costs. Also, Peter Parker has been arrested and he'll be sent to you in a short while. Given the fact that he has been incriminated in this case will weaken the authenticity of the evidence he has managed to obtain. You'll be cleared during the trial. Donovan is positive on that as well."

The very mention of Peter Parker's arrest brought a smile to Wilson Fisk's face. It was more of a sneer than a smile. As soon as he was arrested, Fisk had wasted no time in demanding that Parker be brought to him. He had wanted to meet the kid and treat him in a 'special way'.

The kid that decided to mess with The Kingpin!

James started towards the cell door.

"James!" He stopped and turned. Fisk was rubbing his palms, in a pensive manner. "And the letter?"

"Oh, yes! It's been delivered."

As James was about to step out, the cop he had seen earlier popped his head in. "Peter Parker is here, sir!"

A smile crossed James's face as he turned to look at his boss. Fisk sat in the chair, now sneering in a more vivid manner. In his seven years of employment under him, Wesley had only seen that look on his boss's face on special occasions. That look was indicative of what Fisk had in store for the photojournalist kid from The Daily Bugle.

Usually, that look preceded murder!