The Axe, Part 2

July 12, 2014: Daredevil searches out the one detective left at NYPD he trusts to find more information about the Rhys Bale murder.

Brooklyn, New York

Outside a bar on a stormy night.


Banderilla by Calexico ( )

Mood Music: The Axe

Part Two



The earlier rain makes Sara's footsteps thump wetly on the pavement as she makes her way towards her car. She doesn't notice him until the key gets into the door-side lock, staring back at her with dead red eyes. She's needed some time to think and he's given her what he can-waited at least until the blonde man she was spending time with was gone. But the Daredevil doesn't have the luxury of time.

Oddly, he's caring a satchel over his shoulder. Black and nylon, it's an odd sight. A superhero with an odd choice in accessorizing.


It's been a rough day and a half or so. So hopefully Daredevil will forgive Sara for the fact that she pulls her gun before she does anything else. And keeps it out for a long moment before putting it away. "You know, it's almost comforting that while the department thinks I can't be trusted to handle my own laundry right now, the rest of the extra-legal peacekeeping community is here to keep me busy," she drawls, slowly holstering the revolver.

"Look," Daredevil begins, sounding much more human than he normally might under the circumstances. In fact, his voice sounds almost familiar. "I know what happened to Manning, and I'm sorry. I realize you're not in a good place right now, but …"

His voice trails as his head resets itself after a pause, searching for the words. "I need your help."

"Welcome to the club," Sara snorts, sliding herself into the drivers seat and letting her head fall back against the headrest. "I should go into the mercenary business and make myself a rich woman." She grimaces without opening her eyes. "Probably a rich woman with a lot of self-loathing, to be accurate. What's up? Department's got me on leave, so it looks like I've got some free time."

"Yeah, well about that. I got a murder case over on 33rd in the Kitchen that I need to get back into. With you and Manning out I've got no one I can trust. I was at the scene before your family of Blue got there, but I wasn't able to get much more than the guys laptop." Yes, Daredevil is fully admitting to her that he's taken evidence from the crime scene. He does this sort of thing on occasion; and he was pretty clear with Paul about the corruption he feels goes on within the department.

"I'm going to need toxicology, information on prints, blood spatter, the works. I know you're not in the game right now, but a good lookin, fast talking gal such as yourself is bound to have a few friends and I need a few friends myself for this one."

Sara is quiet for a long moment, letting that all sink in. "You have some recent certification in toxicology, prints, and trace analysis that you want to share with me?" she finally drawls. "And - side note - how were you planning on reading the reports?" No matter how many sensitivity seminars they make her attend, they just never seem to sink in.

"I don't. That's why I need you to get it for me," Daredevil smiles one of those cheesy fake, no-tooth smiles at her, before drooping at her comment. "Funny thing about reports. They're usually written. With letters and words. Amazing stuff."

"Kind of my point." Sara reaches up to rub a hand at her brow, letting out a long breath through her nose. "Is there a particular reason you think you're going to be able to do more with them than the cops at the precinct are? Is this personal? You're going to have to give me a little bit more than 'I want to know about this case' if I'm going to risk my job and my ethics to get you the information."

Working with Manning proved easier. Paul had explained that Sara was one of the good guys, but Matt hadn't anticipated her putting up much resistance. "Yeah. It's a friend of mine that's sitting down at the Morgue right now with his face blown to hell. They got Roosevelt on the case and I'm not sure if your experiences are the same as mine, but Rosie is one of two things: An idiot, or corrupt as hell." He pauses. The ethics he can understand-the job. Well, he's not even sure how much longer Sara will be working there anyways, now.

"Sometimes both," Sara allows with a grimace. "I can try. I don't think anyone's going to pitch a fit if I make it into the basement. They'll probably assume I'm trying to figure out what happened to Paul, and I doubt anyone's going to get in the way of that. No one likes losing a partner.'

"Good. Thanks. I'll be by your place in a few nights to see what you've turned up."

Daredevil pauses and adds with a tilted head, "Hey listen, I know what he meant to you. And I know what you must be feeling like right now." It's been a long time since Matt's father died because of him, but the man in the mask remembers it like it was yesterday. "If you need anything, don't hesitate. I know you and I haven't been on the same page always, but Paul was one of the good ones. Good cop, and a good man."

"He was," Sara agrees quietly. "Seems like it's always the good ones." There's a brief catch in her voice, quickly squashed. "Let me know the address, it'll make it easier to search. I'll see what I can get."

"2348 33rd, Apartment 6"

Daredevil shakes his head, "Not all the good ones are gone, Sara. You're still around." A white baton comes out from a hold on his right thigh and he reaches into the air before firing it off with a 'PFF'.

"Like a roach," Sara laughs softly to herself at Daredevil's words, looking after the strange man for a long moment as he swings his way off. "Time to level up, Pezzini," she murmurs before she starts the car.

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