Chapter Text
“...and believe me, ladies and germs, it’s gonna glow!” Felicia Hardy said, flashing a smile that could have blinded New York City itself. The gathered crowd for the press conference, gathered in front of the new Heroes for Hire headquarters in the heart of Harlem, broke out into applause. Already, members of the press in the front row were calling out. “Yeah, I think we have time for a few questions. Uh…yes, you there.”
“Good morning, Miss Hardy. Kat Farrell with the Daily Bugle.” The redheaded woman with horn-rimmed glasses lowered her hand. “Where exactly were these so-called ‘Heroes for Hire’ when all hell was breaking loose in New York a few weeks ago?”
“You must be new to the Big Apple, Miss Farrell,” Felicia said, her smile and demeanor unflappable, “Hell breaks loose in New York on every day that ends in ‘Y’.” There was a bit of polite laughter at the joke from the crowd.
“I’m referring to the criminal scientist known as Otto Octavius, a man who your Foundation had funded the research of, leading a team of super criminals to wreak havoc on the city,” Farrell continued once the laughter had died down, resulting in deaths of at least seventeen people, including Police Commissioner George Stacy.” There came some murmuring from the crowd, but Felicia continued as though unfazed.
“I do not handle the day to day operations of the Heroes,” Felicia explained, “however, I am told that they were out and about particularly in the area of Harlem where - as your own Bugle reported - a robotic dragon was set loose by the super criminal known as Mysterio. Among other things. We are not just a business, we are also a form of community outreach. One of our co-founders - . Luke Cage - was very adamant on that point and it is one of the pillars of our organization. We take it very seriously. Without Harlem and without New York, we don’t have a business to have. Next question, please?”
“Hello, Miss Hardy. Claxton Ford, New York Bulletin.” A scrawny man with spiky hair spoke up.
“Oh, we’re getting the heights of journalistic excellence here today.” Felicia gave a polite chuckle. “What’s your question, Mr. Ford?”
“We know that the Hardy Foundation and Rand Enterprises have teamed up to provide equipment, housing, and further funding to the Heroes for Hire.” Ford said. “Some of your critics have said it’s a vanity project used to cover your whirlwind romance with Mr. Daniel Rand. What do you have to say about that?”
“Well, Mr. Ford, I’d say that the press always seems to have some unique perspectives on who I am or am not dating,” Felicia said, “however, I can definitively say I am not currently dating, Mr. Rand or otherwise.” She cleared her throat, her mind going back to a certain Irish-born, Greek-descended scientist, but just for a moment before she pushed that feeling away. This wasn't the time to think of Michael. “Any other questions?” She asked, smiling brightly once more to the crowd.
******
“She’s good.” Luke Cage admitted, watching the newscast of the press conference as it happened a few floors below them. Felicia Hardy was working the crowd with an energy that even the seasoned reporters among the press weren’t able to break.
“Well, her expertise isn’t limited to cracking safes, after all.” Danny Rand chuckled. He had been quite taken with Felicia, after their discussion in that Hardy Foundation board room. Despite the nagging done by the press, the two had never so much as spent time together outside of building up the company they were now jointly running, but even Danny wasn’t stupid enough to deny that there was…something…there.
What, he didn’t know, but there was something.
“You alright, man?” Luke asked, snapping Danny out of his thoughts.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, yeah. I am.” Danny said, waving it off. “Just thinking. Trying to remember some K’Lun mediation techniques.”
“Damn, I don’t think even Misty got you this hot under the collar.” Luke teased.
“What? I…I don’t know what you mean.” Danny’s eyes shot wide.
“Yeah, you have no idea and I’m the King of France.” Luke snorted. “C’mon, man. You can use all the Eastern stoicism you can, but in the end the people who know you can read you like a book. I say go for it.”
“What? You mean-” Danny began.
“Yeah, dude.” Luke nodded. “If that makes you happy. Besides, you could keep each other out of trouble.”
“Wait, why do I need to be kept out of trouble?” Danny asked, quirking a brow.
“Well, you see-” Luke began to explain when the door opened, in wandering a petite blonde white woman and beside her a taller black man of about the same age, both in street clothes.
“Are you serious?” Tandy Bowen asked incredulously as they approached, her arms crossed over her chest. “Tyrone just told me.”
“You guys literally can’t be that surprised.” Luke said.
“‘Surprised’ is one word. ‘Irritated’ is another.” Tandy said. “I’m pretty sure that one is more accurate.”
“I don’t really see why it’s necessary.” Tyrone Johnson said. “I mean, we’re already superheroes.”
“Superheroes don’t get a 401K.” Luke said. “Not even with our particular enterprise. You guys ran away from home before finishing high school.”
“Luke’s right,” Danny said, “and the adult people on the team agreed as well.”
“We’re twenty!” Tandy protested.
“Yeah, and everyone else on the team has a high school diploma under our belt,” Luke said, “or more in the case of Captain Newell.”
“Where’s he been lately, anyway?” Tyrone asked. “We really could have used him when Harlem was going nuts.”
“Yeah, we could have and his responsibilities in running the local Coast Guard chapter kind of took precedence over that,” Luke said, “something you guys may have an opportunity to do after furthering your education. Now c’mon, let’s get going.”
“Going? Going where?” Tandy asked.
“To the learning annex.” Luke said. “What? You think you’re gonna do everything online? Get real.”
Tyrone and Tandy both groaned and followed Luke out of the office.
******
Danny settled back in his chair after Luke, Tandy, and Tyrone had left and breathed deeply.
‘Maybe Luke’s right.’ He thought. ‘Maybe I should just see where this go-” He was cut off as his phone began to ring. Specifically, his double chime for numbers that did not appear in his contacts. He picked up.
“Go for Daniel Rand.” He said.
“You’ve been doing very well, Mr. Rand. I’m glad my information got into your hands like I intended.” A voice he did recognize spoke to him from the other end of the line.
“Who is this?” Danny asked.
“A friend. Probably the best one you and your friends have right now.” The man on the other end continued, “I’m afraid Red Moon Limited was just the tip of the iceberg that is the Silvermane family. They’re on the back foot and we have a chance to take down their operation once and for all.”
“You have something in mind, then?” Danny asked. “Another drive?”
“Not this time,” The man on the other side said, “this time, we need to meet. In person.”
“Where?” Danny asked.
“The roof of your building will do - the Rand Enterprises building.” The man on the other end said. “Tonight, eleven fifteen. Come alone, or you won’t find me there.”
The line went dead, Danny taking the phone off of his ear and staring at the screen as the call ended.
‘Well, I guess that’s my dance card for tonight…’ He thought.
******
The East Harlem Community Center was usually a riot of peeling linoleum and the smell of expired industrial floor wax, but the third floor - the newly-dubbed “Union Allied Vocational Wing” - felt like stepping into a different dimension. The air was climate-controlled to a crisp sixty-eight degrees and the walls were a calming, hospital-grade eggshell white.
Luke Cage led Tyrone and Tandy through the double glass doors. “See? I told you you’d like this place. Makes ESU look like a model home.”
“Yeah, we’ll go with that, sure.” Tyrone replied flatly.
“If they harvest my kidneys, I’m not gonna be very happy with you,” Tandy whispered, her eyes daring around at the high-definition security cameras following their movement.
“Hey, it’s Harlem. You know security has to be a thing.” Luke shrugged.
At the end of the hall, a man stood waiting. He definitely didn’t seem the “disgraced student” archetype, but a picture of clinical success. He wore a tailored lab coat over a pinstriped vest. His hair was silver at the temples, and his spectacles sat perched on a sharp, intelligent nose.
“Ah, if it isn’t the renowned Mr. Cage himself,” The man said, approaching and speaking in a smooth, comforting baritone, “I’m Dr. Benjamin Sands. We spoke over the phone.”
“Yes, Dr. Sands. Nice to meet you in person.” Luke said, shaking hands with the man. “These are Tyrone Johnson and Tandy Bowen, your two prospective students.”
“Yes, yes, I see. Welcome.” Sands said, looking to the young man and woman. “I think you’ll excel quite well in my courses. Every student that has passed through my doors has. Come, let me show you our rooms right now.” He gestured for them to follow. Tyrone and Tandy both looked to Luke, who gestured for them to follow.
In one of the rooms, they were witness to several students at computer terminals, working intently as the three watched them from through a large window that showcased the center of the room - a computer lab, Tyrone realized.
“Ah, here we have our Typing 101 class in the thick of their work.” Dr. Sands said. “We aren’t just focused on core education, but also in helping develop skills applicable to the workplace. My students have to be ready for both the book and the workforce!”
“What’s with the wristbands, Doc?” Tyrone asked, noting the metallic wristband on each student’s right wrist, visible from where they sat in profile to the window.
“Ah, that is an identification band, Mr. Johnson,” Dr. Sands told him, “you and Miss Bowen will be issued one when you start with us. It is mostly used for biometric scans with all of our equipment, it ensures security and confidentiality for all of our students.”
“They seem…focused,” Tandy said, noting how none of the students so much as looked up at them despite them being in clear view.
“Oh, very much so.” Dr. Sands nodded. “And I’m sure you’re both very eager to get started. Let’s get you scanned in, shall we?” He clapped his hands cheerfully. “Come along, then, the pair of you!” He headed down the hallway. Tandy looked to Tyrone, who shrugged helplessly, before they moved to follow the doctor.
000000
“Who in the hell is this Kingpin?!” Alisa Manfredi slammed her fists into the wood of her desk. “They’re taking our distributors. They’re taking our men off the streets. And they’re somehow completely invisible! How?!”
“You aren’t asking the right questions,” The toddler in the high chair, her father who had formerly been a man in his seventies before a serum crafted by one Michael Morbius had reduced him even younger than his present state, “who the Kingpin is is not as important as where they are.”
“Father, if I lack the resources, where they are isn’t going to matter!” Alisa snapped at the toddler. “I have to find who they are and pressure them until we break the stranglehold. There must be a way.”
“So you choke them out before they choke you out, then?” Silvio asked, his pudgy toddler fingers holding a sippy cup, taking a long draw from it. “Rather brutish of you, to say the least.”
“With the Smythes off the grid and Union Allied Construction having essentially muscled us out of Harlem, I think now is the perfect time to be brutish.” Alisa retorted.
“Have you tried reaching out to anyone in Harlem?” Silvio asked. “Diamondback, perhaps?”
“The messenger never arrived,” Alisa said, “ended up being sent back in pieces with a message that he belonged to the Kingpin.”
“Damn,” Silvio said, tapping his fingers to his chin like he’d used to as an old man while thinking, “this Kingpin must be moving through Union Allied…and likely through great wealth and influence as well. We need someone apart from us who can navigate those waters for us and find the answers we seek.”
“Anastasia Hardy.” Alisa said suddenly. “She and her daughter are still quite active in high society. Anyone who knows anyone in New York has some ties to the Hardys.”
“Good reasoning, my daughter!” Silvio chuckled. “It will be an interesting rekindling of our association. Oh, were I but a few decades older, what with her husband being gone…”
“Father!” Alisa winced. “Please don’t make me think of such things, I beg of you!”
“I’ve got a good thirteen years before that even becomes an issue, my dear.” Silvio chortled. “Now, call Marko. I’d like to take a ride through the park…”