“Ten thousand for giving them some direction to go on?” the Kingpin asked, drawing out another stack of bills. Mr. Hill took it silently and put it away.

“There’s something wrong with the solder in the water systems, and I’m pretty sure you’ve got corrosion problems in the pipes you shouldn’t have had for years yet, given the age of the building. The welds in the ventilation system are shoddy, and the layout ain’t optimized for airflow or smoothness, and that’s from the view of an idjit like me.

“The electrical system is a cat’s cradle of messwork, and I have the impression there’s insufficient insulation in the primary systems, along with some weld jobs that are practically guaranteed to fail at some point. On this floor alone, I’d say at least six of the outlets are sub-grade and might be tampered with, just by the way they are bleeding heat.

“There might be some violent surprises hidden in your electrical systems, put there when the building went up.” Fisk’s face was turning black at the news. “There’s stuff there that didn’t feel like no junction box, relay, or split I’m familiar with. You be careful when yer poking around in that stuff. Like, not-in-the-building careful.” Hill looked around thoughtfully, eyes narrowing suddenly, harshly. “How many people know you are in the building today, Fisk?”

Fisk’s dark eyes popped open with the realization, and suddenly he heard the ventilation system kick on, but it sounded strange...

“The fans are running in reverse. Follow me, Fisk,” Mr. Hill stated grimly, and something exploded. The Kingpin saw a wall socket down the corridor flare up, and then thick sparks ignited the wall around it and the carpet below.

Mr. Hill paid it no heed, walking right through the nearest wall in a spray of siding and screech of metal for the edge of the building as more dull thumps went off, and an empty office to the left of them suddenly exploded into a fireball.

Fisk swore as he followed The Mountain, who had smashed through two rows of offices and desks without a care, then leisurely kicked in the door to a window office. The Kingpin could hear the roars of flames expanding rapidly through the hallways behind him, and could easily imagine the burning inferno building behind them.

“I pop this, the fire is going to vent in our direction. Be ready.” He bent down, and with no difficulty scooped up Wilson Fisk under his massive buttocks, lifting him as if he were weightless. “Just hold onto my head ta stay stable, I’ll pay it no mind.”

Fisk nodded as he bent over to stay below the ceiling, a meaty hand clasping Mr. Hill’s big skull, which might have been a statue for all that it moved.

Hill punched out once, and the wall disintegrated into almost sand-sized specks. Fisk had never seen a Piston Punch up close, or how it could conduct through the entire wall before releasing, grinding up metal, stone, and steel into fine pieces before tossing them out there, no threat to anything below.

Rather considerate of the landscaping and any civilians down there, too.

The Mountain stepped lightly off into nothing, even as the building fires behind them came roaring for the new opening, floors and insulation that were not supposed to be flammable proving to be anything but.

They were well away from the opening, and falling. Fisk battled down his stomach as they dropped, The Mountain totally unperturbed, and Fisk noticed they were falling far more slowly than they should have been, almost drifting down as he straightened to look back up.

Multiple floors of Fisk Tower were ablaze; he could see the flames inside the glass as they passed them on the way down.

The Mountain pulled out a Tribal-design cell phone and hit a button or two on it. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I just walked off the top floor of Fisk Tower after someone firebombed it. Yeah, no, Fisk is with me, and I didn’t leave him there. Why don’t you get that flameheaded yoyo over at the Baxter Building to come and put it out. Uh-huh, yeah, he can chuckle about it, but the building’s already condemned, Fisk isn’t getting anything out of it. This was a straight-up hit on ‘im. Yeah, yeah, he’s all sugar and lollipops, I get it. Thanks.”

“Miss Ouilette?” the Kingpin acquired, rather enjoying the view as they descended slowly. He’d never gotten to fly like some capes could, and this wasn’t too different, if a bit undignified.

“Yeah, figured she should know. She’s gonna be curious who tried ta off ya, but will probably leave it up ta you. I’m sure you’ve got tons of good friends who’d love ta invite ya ta a barbeque.

“You know where the main power junction is fer the building? I can probably find it if ya don’t. As long as there’s juice flowing, the fires’ll just restart.”

“It would be on the level below where you took your readings, north side. The main electrical station is there,” Fisk said instantly. Such things were important to know in the art of arson.

“You want me to trash the place, or you want to throw a switch?” Hill asked reasonably.

“While your method might be entertaining to witness, I would prefer a smoother approach. However, given the smoke below us, that does not seem like it is going to be an option.” They both eyed the smoke billowing out of the north side basement.

“Pretty sure you got company waiting below, too.”

“Could I interest you in a short-term bodyguard contract, Mr. Hill?”

“A hundred grand fer an hour. I’m feeling generous, even though it’s a seller’s market.”

“Done. Might I borrow your phone?” he asked, as Mr. Hill suddenly spun around and lowered the Kingpin down, The Mountain’s trenchcoated body between him and the neighboring buildings. There was a whine and ting! as something impacted The Mountain and went spinning away.

Hill handed over his Vaccine silently, and Fisk took it and with no hesitation punched in a number on it.

“Miss Willoughby, Fisk here. I’m calling in your retainer. I’m at Fisk Towers and need you here immediately. My bodyguard detail has been compromised and likely been eliminated. Snipers, possible capes when I hit the ground in about, oh, a minute or so. The Mountain is by my side and providing immediate cover, but he can’t guard all angles... Excellent, I will see you shortly.” He hung up and passed the Vaccine back.

Hill took it back as more shots pinged off his backside. “Two shooters. Not even using AP. Weren’t expecting me ta be with you. That Rosie?” he grunted, looking down at the conspicuously unguarded limousine below, with no sign of the men who should have been ready there.

“You are affiliated with the new Wrecking Crew?” Fisk wasn’t surprised, more interested at the connection.

“Met ‘em on that alien planet we all got sent to. They do downtime work fer me between contracts. Matter o’ fact, they should be about six blocks that way doing some preliminary demolition work on the Jensen building,” he pointed. “If they book it, they’ll be here in under two minutes.”

“That will not inconvenience you, hopefully?” Fisk inquired, endeavoring not to duck as more shots tried to get around The Mountain and his control of the local gravity.

“Nah. ‘Damn, officer, they just hired on as day labor. Musta give the yard boss some false ID’s’.”

“Jonesies or Mac’s?” the Kingpin asked professionally.

“Run the bribes fer the precinct through Mac’s. Jonesies is better fer white-collars. Some go fer the girls, so I send ‘em off to Jersey. The Irish got a couple places clean enough for it, and they don’t say nuthin’ when I send business their way.”

Both locations were controlled by their constituents, so any of the various criminal figures could funnel money through them as needed, greasing the wheels of the city. A lot of grease flowed through them.

“Van,” Fisk hissed, seeing the doors open and men start climbing out. Pedestrians were happily absent since the area was a condemned zone, and traffic was light in the later morning here.

“I see it. I think that’s the Constrictor, too, and Killer Shrike getting out over there. Shrike can fly, so, hmm.” Hill flicked out his wrist, and a ball and chain that had appeared there exploded through a window they were passing, driving into the interior. He held onto it, and the two of them were rapidly sucked into the twelfth-story window, followed only by a couple late sniper shots.

Hill took out his phone again as he set the Kingpin down, and redialed the last number. “Fisk?” Rosie the Riveter’s voice came back to him. He could hear the wind going past her loudly.

“This is Hill, Fisk was using my phone. I’ve got Constrictor and Killer Shrike onsite, and two shooters up sniping across the road. Looked like a dozen standard muscle. We’re on a midfloor what ain’t burnin’ yet. Fisk is in no immediate danger.”

“Good to hear, Mr. Hill! We’ll clear out the ground soon’s we arrive!”

Hill hung up. “Around the corner, Fisk,” he gestured, and the Kingpin smoothly moved out of sight of the window. A moment later he heard the sound of cloth flapping.

“Mountain!” the voice of a local-born came back to him. “Why are you guarding Fisk?” This was punctuated by the sizzling report of electrical discharges, throwing light and shadow through the door.

“I’m being paid, Maddicks,” was the flat reply. “Now, I’ll give you one so you can show off.” There was a grinding and rending and spray of building materials as the chain on his flail retracted, and suddenly he was spinning a very heavy ball and chain lightly in his hand. “You send another one at me, I’m gonna send something back.”

“Crap!” the hired killer hissed. “Uh, I gotta make at least a showing here, Mountain...”

“Fine, then, gimme a few more so you look busy, they don’t hurt. But when I hit you, you better run or stay down, or I’m gonna REALLY hit you, boy.”

There were more blasts of lightning coming in, none of which mattered to the Mountain at all. He just stood there looking flatly at the flying Killer Shrike, leisurely swinging his ball and chain.

Fisk heard the squeal of metal parting down a hall. “Hill, the Constrictor has just arrived!” he called back into the room.

It was just a snap of Hill’s wrist, and the flail shot out like a bullet. Luckily, there were no spikes out on it as it slammed into Killer Shrike’s chest and sent him shooting away limply across the sky between the buildings... No, not between the buildings, his flying body was thoughtfully aimed to crash right into the nearer shooter’s window and stop that sniper from providing covering fire.

“Fisk!” Hill ordered, and the Kingpin smoothly leapt back to him. Hill grabbed him by the wrist, and for the second time in just a few minutes, Fisk found himself jumping out of a building.

Their descent was much faster this time, heading down smoothly while Hill spun to face the remaining sniper, frowning direly as he stared right at the man, Fisk completely obscured behind him.

Mr. Hill spun his flail thoughtfully, glaring in the direction of the sniper, and for some reason, there were no more attempts made to shoot them as they hit the ground.

“SHIT!” someone shouted above them, metal tentacles lashing out to grip at the sides of the window as the Constrictor made an appearance above. Hill just strode away, the Kingpin trotting calmly after him, obviously unimpressed by the showing of the enemy so far.

Another man in a black uniform, purple gloves and boots, and a green plume off his cowl, disengaged from the side of the building ahead of them, moving to block their way, while the Constrictor started rappelling down the side of Fisk Tower, shattering windows as he swung from story to story with experienced speed.