"Mr. Murdock. Hello. We're with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. I'm Agent Phil Coulson, this is Agent Barton."
Coulson stood in the hallway, speaking clearly through the closed door.
Inside, Matt Murdock stood up, genuinely surprised.
He had heard them coming from blocks away—heartbeats, heavy boots, the distinct hum of high-tech comms gear. But he hadn't expected them to introduce themselves so politely.
These two agents know who I am?
Matt focused his senses. The one with the bow on his back... his muscles were coiled like steel cables. His heart rate was dangerously slow. A predator. Matt wasn't sure he could beat him in a fair fight.
He picked up his white cane and opened the door.
"I don't know why you're looking for me, officers. Unless you need a lawyer? If I recall correctly, there is no domestic agency with a name that long."
Matt blocked the doorway, offering a polite, professional smile.
He didn't want trouble, but he made sure to remind them: I'm a lawyer. I know the law. You guys don't exist.
"Mr. Murdock, do you know a Vincent Hall?" Coulson asked directly.
Matt paused.
"Why are you asking about that kid? He's a client. If he's in trouble, he has the right to contact me."
He remembered Vincent well. A polite, sensible kid. He had helped him with the inheritance paperwork years ago.
"Does the name 'Ice Demon' mean anything to you?" Coulson asked, his smile never faltering.
Matt frowned slightly. "Hell's Kitchen had a massacre last night. Everyone has heard of him."
"We believe your client, Mr. Hall, might know the Ice Demon," Coulson said smoothly. "I was hoping you could help us locate Mr. Hall and accompany him to the station for a chat."
As Coulson spoke, Clint Barton made the connection.
Vincent's girlfriend was Gwen Stacy. Her father was Police Commissioner George Stacy.
What is Phil doing? Barton thought. Trying to drag the police into this?
If they provoked Vincent, he could wipe out a precinct in seconds.
"He's just a high school student," Matt said firmly. "He has nothing to do with this. If you think he knows something, go ask him yourself. You don't need his lawyer present for a casual inquiry."
Matt paused. "He's eighteen now. An adult."
He closed the door.
He had zero patience for alphabet agencies that didn't exist.
Outside.
"Phil, why bring the police into this?" Barton asked quietly as they walked to the car.
Coulson glanced at Barton, then lowered his voice, knowing Matt Murdock was listening.
"You know the facts, Clint. The Ice Demon gave Madame Gao a photo of the men who killed Vincent's parents. Vincent is the prime suspect. And the Ice Demon is powerful. We need someone who knows him—someone who can tell if he's just a vengeful kid or a sociopath with god-like power."
Barton blinked. He realized what Coulson was doing.
He was feeding information to Daredevil.
Coulson knew Matt could hear them. He was using Matt's morality against him. He wanted the Devil of Hell's Kitchen to investigate Vincent.
Daredevil had a living polygraph built into his ears. He could tell if Vincent was the Ice Demon. He could tell if Vincent was dangerous.
"Vincent is just a kid," Barton said, playing his part. "The profilers say the Ice Demon is cold, detached, ruthless. A monster from hell. Vincent writes romance novels. It doesn't fit."
The two agents got into the car and drove away.
Coulson knew the seed was planted.
Hell's Kitchen was quiet now, but Kingpin was also hunting. Madame Gao had fled the country, but the breadcrumbs she left behind were easy to follow.
If SHIELD found Vincent, Kingpin would find him too.
"Director Fury said to wait and watch," Coulson muttered. "Let's see who breaks first."
Inside the Apartment.
"Vincent is the Ice Demon?"
Matt Murdock stood in silence.
He knew Coulson had manipulated him. He knew the conversation in the hallway was a performance.
But the logic held up.
Matt remembered the encounter on the roof. The Ice Demon had spared him. He had even made a joke.
"Watch your step, counselor."
Matt froze.
The voice was distorted by the cold, but the cadence... the familiarity...
Vincent?
Matt's grip tightened on his cane.
If Vincent was the Ice Demon, then a boy he had helped protect had become a mass murderer.
Power corrupts, Matt thought grimly. Hate corrupts.
He knew what vengeance did to a man. He fought that darkness every night. But Vincent had the power to freeze a city block. If that boy lost his way... if he truly had an anti-social personality...
"I have to find him," Matt whispered. "I have to know if he's too far gone."
In the SHIELD SUV.
"Will it work?" Barton asked.
"Who knows? At least we confirmed one thing," Coulson said, flipping open his copy of Fifty Shades of Grey. "The kid is a player."
"Sometimes, powerful men who are addicted to women are easier to manage," Barton mused, watching the city pass by. "They have attachments. Weaknesses."
"Constraints are good," Coulson agreed, his eyes glued to the page.
"Phil."
"Hmm?"
"Don't get too into it."
"It's... remarkably immersive," Coulson admitted, turning a page. "The psychology is fascinating."
"Right," Barton smirked. "The psychology."
Coulson quickly closed the book.