Marvel's Daredevil

- -

Good. Stay there.

Matt?

No. I haven't seen him since last night.

I'll let him know what's going on. Meet you at the precinct.

And don't let anyone talk to Grotto until then.

It was a normal evening at Metro-General

when a lone gunman entered and began firing into the crowd.

Most of the patients are being moved to other area hospitals.

- Investigators say... -

The building's clear. Perp is not in the building.

Standby to lift lockdown. All units hold position.

We have a report of shots fired earlier on a rooftop up on 10th.

- Yeah? - I lost my keys!

- Your kid locked you out? - Yeah.

You some kind of idiot?

Yeah.

Oh, shit.

No, no, no, no, no. No! Matt!

Come on, Matt, wake up.

You okay, Matt? Come on.

Get up! Matt! Matt, come on!

Wake up. Wake up!

Come on!

Matt, can you breathe?

Matt. Can you get up?

Hey, Foggy, can I get some aspirin?

You sure you don't want an x-ray? Maybe a psych eval?

An aspirin's fine, buddy.

You got shot in the head. You're lucky you're not in the morgue.

It was just a dumb mistake, man.

- What? - The gun on his ankle, I...

I should've heard it, you know. I should've felt it.

- Are you serious? -

Yeah, but he's fast, this guy, Foggy, he's...

He's trained.

He's a lunatic, Matt.

I went to the hospital. I saw what he did.

- Where's Karen? - We've been through this.

Oh, yeah, that's right.

Yeah, you're sure... you're sure she's okay?

She got Grotto to the NYPD.

We're gonna meet there, make a deal with the DA.

Thanks.

Thanks, buddy. I'm gonna put on some pants.

- No. - It's okay. I know we need to get going.

"We" don't need to do anything.

- Foggy, I don't wanna do this right now. - Karen's safe,

you're safe...

and our client will be safe within the hour.

- It's all taken care of. - Except the shooter.

He's still walking the streets of Hell's Kitchen.

- He's the cops' problem now. - He's gonna plow right through the cops.

I know what you're doing.

You saw what he did to the Irish,

you didn't see what he did to the Mexican Cartel.

He hung them on meat hooks, and he left them there to die.

- You want another round. - Blood is being shed, Foggy.

And you've donated more than your fair share to the cause.

- I need to stop him. - You need to get rest. Okay?

And when you wake up, you need to consider

putting that thing back in whatever wacko box it came from.

Better yet...

Let go.

You first.

I don't wanna do this again.

Then don't.

You know what would've happened if someone caught us stumbling home?

- You wearing that thing? - I appreciate it, Foggy.

- You taking care of me. - You should.

But when the cops try to take this guy down,

it's gonna be one hell of a fight, lives are gonna be lost.

This guy's not gonna go down easy.

- I need to help. -

You look like shit.

Stay here. Get rest.

We don't need people asking questions we don't have answers to.

I've covered for you enough as it is.

And for now, let the NYPD and the DA do their jobs.

And trust me to do mine!

Okay?

That window bulletproof?

Twenty cops outside that door. You're safe.

Where the hell are your boys?

On their way.

Place of birth?

Queens.

Relatives? Anyone we should place into Witness Protection with you?

No. I got no one.

You don't seem rattled.

A guy tries to blow your head off, you ain't scared?

I'm terrified.

- Sorry. Are you okay? - Yeah, yeah. Mmm.

The paperwork's almost done and Brett's gonna be in in a minute.

Where's Murdock?

He took a sick day.

You told us the Irish were attacked by a whole gang of guys.

I'm pretty sure the word you used was "army."

You want to tell me why I'm now hearing

this is all being done by one man?

- Look, I didn't know you guys were... - Who does he work for?

- I got no idea! - Well, what do you know?

I know he's a sociopath, that's what.

I mean, yeah, fine...

I heard the rumors, okay, but I didn't think...

I thought it was ridiculous, okay?

Ten, 20 guys could be mowed down at a time.

And with precision? You know, tactically.

Every hit was like some kind of SEAL Team 6.

Then people started saying it was one guy doing all that.

One man? I thought it was a ghost story.

Some...

campfire shit you tell freshies to make 'em crap their pants.

But now...

You saw.

- That guy was the Grim Reaper. -

Mr. Grote, I'm Sergeant Mahoney.

Got some clothes here for you.

What? Am I arrested?

Just protective custody until we can figure out WITSEC.

Why the peel?

Or stay in the gown with your ass hangin' out,

- I don't care. - Yeah.

We pulled the security footage from the hospital.

- I got ten men going over it right now. - Any leads?

I was hoping you had something.

Let's let him change. You two wanna step outside with me for a sec?

Now, the DA's office is sending someone over

to talk you through Witness Protection options.

- Today? - Yeah, right now.

And listen, take whatever deal they offer, okay?

You don't wanna mess with this psycho.

So you do have a lead.

I ever tell you what Clemons used to say?

Gotta treat witnesses like mushrooms.

Feed 'em shit, and keep 'em in the dark.

That scum's on a need to know.

So fill us in. Who's bankrolling this guy?

Who does he work for?

The DA's office says the shooter's independent.

Vigilante type, targeting different crime families.

And not in a... a Daredevil way. In a Death Wish way.

- Holy shit. - Yeah.

Daredevil kicks ass, this whole city cheers like we just won the World Series.

But this guy?

He does it, and the streets get bloody.

Makes everybody stop and think twice about the whole "hero" proposition.

Well, what do you think?

The whole force is split.

Some cops want him off the street,

others think he's making our jobs a whole lot easier.

But if you ask me, it's only a matter of time

before the wrong person gets caught in the crossfire.

Yeah, you put it that way, I guess copycats were inevitable.

No, it's not the first, just the latest.

Yeah, we call them "Devil Worshippers."

Nutjobs inspired by the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

Shit, most of 'em are just ineffectual idiots, but this guy...

all my years on the force, I've never seen anything like him.

Oh.

Shit, it's not an assistant, it's the actual DA.

That's Reyes?

In all her defense-attorney-destroying glory.

How do I look?

Uh, semi-professional.

- No, Foggy, I'm kidding. You'll be fine. - Okay.

Are they the ones that brought in Grote?

Um, Franklin Nelson, of Nelson and Murdock.

This is my associate, Karen Page.

Officers, I want you to prepare Mr. Grote for transport.

Excuse me, but, transport where, exactly?

Once he's in our custody,

I want you to personally handle all the arrangements.

Just to put it out there,

our client's already given us a list of his conditions.

Mr. Nelson, have you ever negotiated a witness protection agreement?

Well... speaking for my firm,

I can attest that we're all very fast learners.

The District Attorney appreciates your efforts,

but our office will be handling the case from here.

Excuse me. Grotto is our client.

And it would be in Mr. Grote's best interest

for you to recuse yourselves

so he can bring in a legal team with more expertise.

You mean someone you can push around.

We had enough expertise to handle Wilson Fisk.

I'll say this once, Mr. Nelson.

If, God willing, your firm doesn't collapse

under the weight of the chickens and the fruit baskets

you've been collecting from your indigent clientele,