3679/Putting a (King)Pin In It

Putting a (King)Pin In It
Date of Scene:	04 October 2020
Location:	Warehouses
Synopsis:	Spider-Man hears the name for the first time...and glimpses how brilliant his opponent is.
Cast of Characters:	Wilson Fisk, Peter Parker

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Wilson Fisk has posed:
Warehouse, 2am

Shady men meeting down by the warehouse, is a habit old as the city itself, but something is different. Three black sedans, tinted windows driving down here, trunks poped waiting for goods. Three men in dark black suits, one is Italian, one middle eastern, the other is an Asian man.

Each waiting hands behind their back, as time goes on passing, a large black armored truck is pulling up, out of it is a young man in a purple hoodie, with a gold chains hanging down around his neck, early twenties, African American. With a pair of expensive sunglasses, moving to the back, opening the truck, inside crates waiting to find new homes.

Peter Parker has posed:
He almost didn't hear about this little event at all. Which is odd, because criminals sing like canaries when you promise to send a thousand spiders to where they live ("Because I'm SPIDER-MAN!"). But hearing about this one was like pulling teeth.

Spider-Man landed on the roof of the building near the warehouse. This whole thing smelled of Careful. Careful is unnerving, because Careful = Competent, and competent people tend to cover all the bases, so he is on the looking for alarms, tripwires and motion sensors.

He peers at the crates. No sign of illegal activity yet. And he can't jump in on what could be a very lucrative Etsy transaction. Best to wait, watch, and see.

Wilson Fisk has posed:
The crates are handed over placed in the trunks, not by the glasses man. But by two younger guys that are in the back, maybe 18 if a day. Young black hoodies, looking for more in this world, as they move quietly, loading each of the cars.

Four crates for the Asian gentleman, six for the Italian, Eight for the Middle Eastern gentleman.

As the last is loaded, small crates, trunks closed with soft snaps. The man in the purple jacket watches as the Asian and Italian climb in leaving; it seems this deal had already been paid for. Still, now that Middle Eastern man is watching, his hand is going behind his back, going for a pistols the people on the ground can't see it. Still, to one amazing spider-man, it is clear as day, that tingling telling him this is not going to be a good day.

Peter Parker has posed:
Easy...easy.

Spider-Man jumps from the neighboring roof to a light pole, crouched above it to keep from being spotted. He fires two quiet blasts of webbing on the street in front of the Asian and Italian vehicles. If they bolt, they aren't going to get far with the gluey webbing gunking up tires and axles. He looks back at the Middle-Eastern individual, waiting for it. He should have a half-second, no more, to web the gun into inoperability...but if the others pulls guns, well then, NYPD is going to get a call...

Wilson Fisk has posed:
The cars are stoped, they are not yet getting out to examine yet.

The gun is pulled, the African gentleman, watching now as he sighs softly, the one in the purple hoodie."You have paid already, your goods are in your car. Do, you wish to anger my boss really?" His voice is cold, uncaring as he looks down at the pistol, but they are not drawing themselves yet, as he watches the man."You know, what he will do to you right? Now, how about this get in your car, drive away and we call this, our last time doing business?"

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man is listening. No one is shooting yet, but that could happen any second.

But this whole deal has been unusually clandestine, and a little knowledge goes a long way. So, continue to listen, while they are still talking.

Because as long as they are talking they are not shooting.

Wilson Fisk has posed:
The drivers are not getting out, calling a tow truck, they are not the type to do it themselves.

The middle eastern man is putting the gun behind his back, as he slides it down."No trouble, don't need trouble from the Kingpin. Your right, nah we work again sorry. Greed got the best of me." He is opening his car, as he pulls out of the warehouse, as he is leaving.

The black man in the purple hoodie is pulling out his phone."Mr. Asfour is off our green list. He pulled a gun sir." Than he is hanging up after leaving the voicemail, as he motions to his posse to get in the van.

Peter Parker has posed:
KINGPIN. So...the mystery man has a name. And that is more than he had ten seconds ago.

He tensed as the two vehicles prepare to leave...and are seconds away from the traps Spidey has set for two of them. And the third one is leaving.

Time to close the store.

The two weblines hit the rear of the third vehicle, and Spidey quickly moors it to the concrete block he dropped down on.

In a few seconds, ALL of them are going to need AAA...but he is making sure all they get is the NYPD.

Wilson Fisk has posed:
The sound of sirens are loudly screaming into the night, as they pull into the scene, the cops getting out as they are approaching. Four cars, this is not a get place for cops to go alone. As they are approaching the webbed up cars, the men are getting out, walking towards them.

The moment, the men are seen by the cops, it is like night and day, guns away as they move forward to help get the cars unstuck, not even eyes on the trunks, not asking them to be opened, it seems these men or the person pulling strings has connections.

Given they can't move the cars, the police stand by, as new cars are dispatched to pick up the goods, each crate is moved to SVU, owned by others that are matching the races of the men, waiting down there in the fine suits. These men are more street, way more hood it seems; this was a crime of some sort, but why are the police assisting.

Peter Parker has posed:
In a moment, the Spider-Drone was active.
People wondered how he could get those pictures of Spider-Man even when he might not be in the area. He always confessed to using a drone, but showed them one of the larger ones he had rescued from the dumpster. The real one was much smaller.

And he had called this one out because one always brings a camera to a performance...and this whole thing looked like a performance for his benefit. It was almost...choreographed. That was the word MJ had used about a recent dance performance. And he felt it was best to assume they knew they were being watched.

It was almost a little creepy. But NOW what? If the cops were in cahoots...if they even WERE cops...

It was infuriating. He couldn't prove anything. If he attacked real cops, say sayonara to whatever good will he had with the NYPD. Even if they weren't, they looked like cops.

Right now, all he could do was take pictures of as many faces as he could. He had the dim realization he was being outmaneuvered, and all he could do was watch it happen. Best to document everything...and hope whatever was in those crates wasn't TOO bad.

Whoever this "Kingpin" was...he was SMART. TOO smart.