The Devil's Days Are Numbered

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S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra's Project Sinister – this will be big enough of a threat that ALL Avengers and associates will be needed. Hope that sneak peek answers some questions and even wets your appetite. Hope you enjoy this week's instalment.

ooo00ooo

Heroes Assemble!

Chapter 22 – The Devil's Days Are Numbered

The instant that Wilson Fisk stepped into his office, he stopped, staring at the man lounging in the chair behind his desk. The fact that the man was in this very office, in the heart of Fisk's empire didn't seem to faze him. Indeed, the man even had his boots up on the desk, his ankles crossed and seemed to be filing his fingernails of all things.

The twin guards at his back, noticing his movements, burst through the doors and took up positions to either side of him, their guns drawn and trained on the man. Only Wilson's raised hand stopped them from pulling the trigger. There'd be time for that later. Firstly, there were questions to be asked, namely who the man was and how he got past security.

"You seem mighty relaxed for a man walking on the edge of death," Wilson commented.

The man's eyes briefly flicked up, took notice of the guns still trained on him and promptly went back to ignoring them.

"Before I have you killed, perhaps you'd be polite enough to tell me how you got in here and exactly who you are," Wilson said and there was steel in his voice that even this man couldn't ignore.

"I'm here because you invited me," the man said. "As to who I am? Well ..."

Instead of answering the question, the man simply removed his boots from Wilson's desk, sat up straighter, before leaning forward and slowly took off his black beanie. A very distinctive scar rested upon his forehead that had been covered by his headwear; a scar in the shape of a target.

"Bullseye," Wilson smiled.

"Now are you going to tell these two chuckleheads to point their guns somewhere else or would you prefer me to simply kill them?" Bullseye asked.

Wilson was tempted to allow the man free licence, after all, it would be only prudent to see what he was going to be paying for. But, after a moment's thought, he simply gestured for his bodyguards to lower their weapons – it was often so hard to find good, competent men after all.

Wilson strolled forward, detouring away from his desk to the side cabinet where he took out a glass and poured himself a shot of whiskey.

"I'd offer you one, but I suspect that if you really wanted a drink, then you'd already have it," Wilson commented.

Bullseye merely waved his nailfile in Wilson's direction, acknowledging the point.

"What should I call you?" Wilson asked. "I don't even know your real name."

"And I'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Bullseye's fine," he was told.

"Very well, Bullseye," Wilson smiled.

He could appreciate the need to keep one's identity a secret, after all, he'd taken great pains (or, at least, other people had had a world of pain) to eliminate any that tried to link Wilson Fisk the business tycoon with Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin of New York crime.

"I assume that you know why you're here?" Wilson asked.

"You've got a vigilante problem. Some 'devil' that has the neighbourhood running scared," Bullseye punctuated his statement with air-quotes around the word 'devil'.

"Indeed. Daredevil has been making a right nuisance of himself and it's been bad for business," Wilson confirmed. "I assume that you can deal with this problem of ours?"

"Give me the right sort of motivation and you can consider the job done," Bullseye replied, staring hard at Wilson, a slight grin on his face.

"I'm certain that we can come to an arrangement that is mutually beneficial, assuming that you can hold up your end of the bargain, of course," Wilson replied.

As quick as a flash, Bullseye's arm flicked out. From beside the door, one of his guards gave a piercing scream as he fell to the floor, both hands clutching his right eye, blood spurting between his fingers and oozing down his face.

"I think that I can get the job done," Bullseye stated into the stunned silence. "Now, let's talk payment."

ooo00ooo

Atop one of the taller buildings in the city, Spider-man watched and waited. From where he was perched, he could see a number of the streets below. People scurried by, intent on their tasks, unaware of his presence. His spider-sense was on full alert as he made sure that there was no danger nearby, either to him or to those he was protecting from the shadows.

But when it came to knowing what crime was happening in the city, Spider-man had another tool, one that was quite illegal, no matter how useful it was: a police scanner. He'd used it multiple times now having built it from scratch from parts that he'd bought using the money that he earnt as a Stark Intern.

Admittedly, he hadn't had much to do as an intern yet, but his time was coming. He'd been assured that once Avengers Tower had been completed, he'd be in there working whenever he could, apart from school times, of course. And that day was getting closer and closer. Tony'd given him a tour of the scientific equipment that was being installed and he couldn't wait to get his hands on it.

The radio on the ground beside him crackled. Instantly, his head snapped towards it.

"All units, we have a ten-thirty-one at Parkman's Jewellery. Location four three one Lexington Avenue."

Spider-man switched the radio off and stowed it away – he'd heard enough. A 'ten-thirty-one' meant that there was a robbery in progress. And he wasn't that far from the location; he was sure that he could get there long before any black and whites arrived.

Without a second thought, Spider-man leapt from the building, his hand whipping out and a web-line shooting out to impact the far building. Then, using line after line, he flew through the city, far above the people and cars below, whipping around corners and flipping through the air at the height of one arc before shooting out the next line that he'd use.

With a final flip, he came to rest in a crouch on the top of the building that housed the jewellery store.

Pulling out the police scanner once more, Spider-Man flipped the switch, hoping for a little more information about what was happening downstairs. Thankfully, he was in luck.

"Hostages have been taken. Repeat. The four perpetrators at Parkman's Jewellery have taken hostages. Estimate is for five civilians."

That was enough and he turned it off and put it away.

With innocents in play, Spider-man knew that he couldn't simply burst through the front doors, his webs blazing at the bad guys. No, this called for something a little subtler. He'd only just begun to pace across the roof, one hand up to scratch at hair that he couldn't touch because of his cowl, when his eyes lit on the perfect thing.

Superhuman strength was needed to pry the cover off of the air vent, but it was accomplished with ease.

"Good thing all that food Aunt May's been feeding me hasn't made me into some fat blob thing," he commented as he began slithering into the tight space.

Navigating the ventilation system wasn't easy; it was far too small for him to crawl in and at times, he needed to shoot a web at the far wall and pull himself along. The slides down between levels wasn't a lot of fun, especially when it took all that he had just to keep from landing on his head each and every time.

Finally, though, he'd reached his destination: directly above the jewellery story. Knowing that there was a chance that the robbers could hear him, Spider-man took extra care manoeuvring across to the closest vent. It took a bit of twisting and turning of his head before he located all four bad guys.

Currently, they were huddled behind the main counter, talking while occasionally peering towards the front of the shop. The hostages, Spider-man found against the left wall. Their legs were bound in duct tape and their hands disappeared behind their backs, presumably also taped together. For good measure, a final piece of tape had been placed over their mouths.

While he was formulating his plan, Spider-man took careful note of where each display case was, not to mention the pieces of razor sharp glass that littered their tops and the floor around them.

As slowly and as soundlessly as he could, Spider-man twisted himself into a near knot, getting his feet into just the right position. Then, before a cramp could fully form, he kicked out, smashing his way through the ventilation shaft and dropping into the store.

Even as he was falling, his hands whipped out, jets of webbing shooting from his wrists. Two robbers caught blasts in the face, sending them wheeling backwards, their hands scrabbling at their mouths in their panic to get the webbing off so that they could breathe again.

As his feet touched the floor, Spider-man jumped and spun to the side, firing off another couple of rounds of webbing. A third robber went down, pinned to the floor. Unfortunately, the last one managed to move at just the right time, dodging Spider-man's attack and bringing a gun to bear in the process.

Four sharp cracks rang out as shots were fired. Only the web-crawler's super-human reflexes and his spider-sense enabled him to spin and dodge out of the way of the bullets.

And then he retaliated. With a number of flips, he catapulted himself across the store before a ten-second trade of blows saw the last robber knocked flying, only to come up hard against the far wall before slowly sliding down it to land in a crumpled heap.

Seeing his last opponent down, Spider-man quickly crossed the room before grabbing the first two robbers, ripping off the webbing that was stopping them from breathing and cocooning them in a spray of webbing.

"Looks like my work here is all but done," he remarked, surveying the littered bodies around him.

It was as he was freeing the hostages from their duct tape bindings that he heard something that had him pausing.

"You reckon the boss'll put out a hit on Spider-man once Bullseye's finished his first job?" one of the robbers asked his partner quietly.

"Who knows?" the other replied. "Either way, the Devil's days are numbered, so that'll make things easier. Then there'll only be the one menace to deal with instead of two."

ooo00ooo

Harry was half-way across the Den, a tray filled with cups of various types of coffee in hand when he stopped, his head automatically going up as if he could see through the two floors of his apartment to the roof far above.

After quickly finishing his delivery, he made his way back to the counter.

"I'll be back shortly," he said to Gwen as he placed the tray into its appropriate place. "Your boyfriend wants to have a chat."

"What does ..." Gwen began before her big blue eyes got even bigger and rounder. "Oh. Oh, okay. I can handle things down here."

With a nod of thanks, Harry quickly made his way outside and up, taking the stairs two at a time in his haste. Peter'd never come to the Den in costume before and the fact that he was on the roof waiting told Harry that that's exactly what he'd done.

As he stepped out of the doorway, he looked around and then up, finally spotting the red and blue hero perched on the side of the wall in the shadows.

"Spider-man," he greeted.

"Oh, man, you looked up," Peter complained. "No one ever looks up."

Harry grinned at him. "I'm a wizard; I know to expect the unexpected. What's up?"

"Can't a guy just come over for a visit without something being wrong?" he asked.

"Sure," Harry shrugged. "But if you wanted to do that, you'd come in your civilian clothes, not dressed like that."

"You're right. And we do have a problem," Peter confirmed. "Or, well, at least, not us. We don't have a problem. But there is a problem, if you know what I mean?"

"How about you slow down and tell me what's going on," Harry suggested.

"I was out patrolling," Peter began. "And there was this jewellery store robbery which I completely foiled. Had to get in through the ventilation shaft, if you can believe it, but there were hostages and, yeah, well, I dealt with them and everything but then I heard a couple of them talking. The robbers, not the hostages. Anyway, seems there's a new big bad in town named 'Bullseye'. And he's been hired to target the Daredevil of Hell's Kitchen."

"Daredevil, huh?" Harry said, rubbing the back of his head as he thought. "Don't really know much about him other than that he's been combating crime in Hells' Kitchen, like you said, for a while now. Tony's got a file on him, I think. And S.H.I.E.L.D., too, for that matter."

"Do they know how to find him?" Peter asked. "Only, it sounded like this Bullseye guy's fairly new here and I thought that it'd be only right to give the guy a head's up that he's being targeted."

"Tony's still off the grid somewhere," Harry mused. "And I don't think that we really need to bother S.H.I.E.L.D. for something that we can do ourselves. Let me get my suit and we'll head out and see if we can't find Daredevil ourselves."

"I hear that he's pretty hard to track down," Peter cautioned.

Harry merely shrugged. "How hard can it be to find one guy in a single neighbourhood?"

ooo00ooo

Steve hefted his bag as the ramp of the quinjet hit the tarmac. Then, with his iconic shield on his back he stepped out, taking in a deep breath of fresh air as he looked around. As far as he knew, he was on liberty for the next three days, having already been debriefed about the op that he and the S.T.R.I.K.E. team had not long finished.

It'd been a long mission in northern Africa – in actuality not far from the border between Algeria and Tunisia. They'd been there for just shy of eight weeks, having to infiltrate the local population before they could even get a bead on their target and then take down the wannabe warlord and his thugs.

Rumrow and the rest of the men had been whisked straight off to another location, a location that was deemed classified as far as Steve was concerned, while he had been able to return to Washington so that he was close enough to report to the Triskelion after his three-day R-and-R.

A figure in a black S.H.I.E.L.D. jumpsuit caught his attention as she moved out of the shadows towards his position.

"Agent Morse," he greeted.

"Captain," Bobbi replied with a nod. "And what have I told you about calling me 'Bobbi'."

"That I should do so," Steve replied, barely able to stop himself from ducking his head. "And I will, as long as you remember to call me Steve."

Bobbi nodded back before gesturing that they take a walk together. Surprisingly, instead of heading in towards the buildings nearest to the tarmac, he was led away, out into a clear space where there would be less chance of the two being overheard.

"Are you here with a mission?" Steve asked.

"No. I'm here as your Avengers handler," Bobbi replied. At Steve's raised eyebrows, she continued. "There's been a situation with Tony."

Steve's gaze hardened. "What happened?"

"Have you heard about the attacks from the Mandarin?" she asked.

"He's the leader of a terrorist organisation," Steve recounted. "They've attacked public places, injuring and killing dozens. Every attack has been followed up with a television broadcast with a message aimed at President Ellis."

"Correct," Bobbi confirmed. "It seemed that not long ago, one of Tony's men, a Happy Hogan, was caught in one of the attacks and injured. In Tony's anger, he challenged the Mandarin to come face him like a man. Even gave his home address to make it easier for the Mandarin to find him."

Steve stiffened. "Is Tony dead?"

"No. Although the world thinks so," Bobbi said, eliciting a sigh of relief from the Captain. "We only know that much because Ms Potts told us. But Tony has gone off the radar. We don't know where he is or what condition he's in. We can't even provide any support if he needs it."

Steve stared at her, scenarios running through his mind.

"I trust that you'll keep me informed? And that if you hear something, that I want in. Tony's a good guy; the world owes him for what he did in New York, not to mention that I still owe his father a few debts as well," Steve stated.

"Don't worry, Captain, that's why I'm here," Bobbi assured him. "The second that we hear something, and provided that we can get you there in time, you'll be sent in. Romanoff and Barton made the same request."

"Good," Steve nodded. "What about Banner? Or Harry?"

"We're not currently tracking Banner, but we believe that he's somewhere in South America. He knows to ring me if he needs something. Even if it's just a lift home," Bobbi replied. "Harry went straight to Malibu as soon as he heard what had happened. As far as I'm aware, Potts is keeping him updated."

While Steve didn't know Bruce all that well, he couldn't imagine the guy ringing up S.H.I.E.L.D. simply to ask for transportation. The fact that Harry was already in the loop at least eased his mind somewhat.

"Alright. Keep me informed," Steve said as the two began their track back across the tarmac.

ooo00ooo

The majority of the room was darkened, only the small downlights dotted about the walls shed any light. Consequently, the group of men seated at the table were mostly in shadow. Despite that, everyone there knew who the others were; really how could they not – they were S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, trained to know such things, even if their real allegiance was not to the spy organisation but to something older, something more powerful and more insidious.

For seventy years, their organisation had been hiding in plain sight, manipulating events as they saw fit, subtly influencing the way the world should work and eliminating the threats that cropped up from time to time.

And now, their greatest project was nearing completion. Project Insight, designed to eliminate any threat before that threat even reared its head. Hundreds, thousands could be wiped off the face of the planet in mere seconds. And once the Helicarriers with the algorithm embedded into it were launched, there would be nothing that could stop them.

They could once and for all come out of the shadows into the light. There would be no need for HYDRA to remain hidden any longer.

But there was one potential obstacle. One that could still disrupt their plans even after the Insight Helicarriers were launched. One that the helicarriers could miss.

The Avengers.

The seven superheroes who believed that it was their duty to stand up and defend the world.

Thus, the meeting that was taking place.

Just as a hydra was a beast of many heads, HYDRA itself made sure that it had not only many heads, but also many plans.

"Report on Project Sinister," their highest-ranking member ordered.

"Project Sinister is on track to be ready on time," the agent in charge reported. "Doctor Sterns is currently undergoing tests. S.H.I.E.L.D. thinks that they are attempting to understand what happened to him, what enhanced his brain capacity to such a level. What we are really doing is helping the doctor to increase his transformation, training him to use his vast intellect to its fullest potential.

"Colonel Blonsky is under cryo-stasis at a facility in Alaska. His guards are minimal and will be easily breached at the appropriate time.

"Agent Ward gathered the intel that we needed from

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