Chapter 5: Ring of Fire 1/2

Author's Note: All properties are the rights of their respective owners, Marvel, Respawn Entertainment, etc.

Question for you guys, I want to know what I need to do to get some reviews or feedback, is there a particular reason I'm not seeing much? I don't want or mean to come off as salty, I'm more baffled and bemused than anything. Other tales from the metrics say I have a disproportionate number of Finnish views. The only real point I want to make is if you haven't heard the song 'Talvisota' or know the story behind it then you should look it up. If that doesn't make you respect the Finns, then nothing will.

Enough pandering, the chapter title is a classic by the Man in Black himself, Johnny Cash. Though in this instance its better to take the title at face value. Also know that when I add the next chapter on Thursday-ish I'll also update every chapter up to and including this one with this format and add 'Cooper's Logbook' entries to the end of each chapter. This will explain some of the toys Cooper has, in short, flat exposition that doesn't fit into the otherwise fast pace of the story. Now without further ado….

(4/15/20: A few tweaks and updates made now that I am a bit better at this writing thing.)

Power Without Question – Chapter 5: Ring of Fire

I fell into a burnin' ring of fire

I went down, down, down

And the flames went higher

And it burns, burns, burns

The ring of fire, the ring of fire

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire" growled Cooper as he racked his weapons and began to remove his Vanguard combat armor, "and I'm the one going to get burned." The night had been a long one, starting with the raid on the shipping yard, meeting that woman, and Ever since the mob man had told him what was on that ship, he had begun to reevaluate what the hell he was doing here, again.

He ran his hands through his hair after taking off the helmet, despite his fighting words, Matthew was weary. "Pilot" said BT, "I sense that you are distressed. What is the cause of this?" asked the Titan as Cooper pulled up a stool and plopped down into it.

"Just having second thoughts about all this BT" admitted Cooper as he began to remove the rest of his armor, including the electric smoke grenade the silver haired woman had used against him, discarding the spent cylinder. "I'm not sure this is what I signed up for."

He turned to see the singular blue eye of the Vanguard class Titan pulsing in contemplation. "You have been in combat for an extended length of time Pilot Cooper. SRS suggests a rest period after such occurrences" reported BT, clearly reading from some Militia document or another. "There are numerous establishments that specialize in such activities around the city" informed the Titan, drawing a slight chuckle from the Pilot.

"Maybe you're right BT" conceded Cooper with a sigh. His job was about to get a whole lot harder with the arrival of those heavy weapons. With the kind of firepower the Kingpin was bringing in it looked like he was trying to supply an army. Cooper's job was about to get a lot more difficult. "Yeah, you definitely are."

Matt then went about removing the rest of his kit and was about to pass out in his bed when he heard BT speak up again. "Records indicate that Walt Simmons has been placed into NYPD protective custody and is cooperating with Police" said the Vanguard. "Your decision was a wise one Pilot."

Cooper shook his head at the praise, still feeling lost. Even with the success he had been having, the pilot couldn't help but remember that he had died a week ago, the life he was currently living wasn't his own, and he missed his home, his family, his boring life.

What the fuck was he doing here? Living out a superhero fantasy? Working out anger at some random thugs? Or just being a puppet for Griffin to pull the strings of? Maybe BT was right, maybe he needed to not be a Pilot and try to go back to be a regular guy again, even if it was only for one night.

After that? He would be right back in the thick of it, what other options did he have? Griffin was still paying him for his activities as a Pilot, and paying him well. Paying to kill people, something that he had never wanted to do, but seemed so normal after Typhon. Not once since he had woken up after dropping onto that godforsaken rock had he so much as hesitated to pull the trigger.

Even when he got shot, it barely felt like anything, his armor and its self-repair function meant he could take hits nearly as well as he could dish them out. Without it though? He was just as squishy at the next guy, vulnerable. It made him want to stay cocooned in the safety blankets that were his armor and BT.

He left BT without another word, stuck in his own thoughts as he collapsed into bed.

"Maybe you weren't right about this BT" mumbled Cooper as he closed the door of his Viper and looked at the club the Titan had picked out. Suffice to say it wasn't the kind of place he felt comfortable at, the loud signage and even louder music could be felt more than heard, even as far away as he was.

Still, he had promised his best friend that he would go, and for some reason the machine had taken such a vested interest in his mental wellbeing that he refused to let Cooper do any work pertaining to planning future raids during the day. He did get some good news, when he woke, he found an envelope containing his old cell phone from his first life, complete with all of his old music and photos on it.

Paying the cover and stepping into the club he immediately regretted his decision, the lights and music made him want to blow his brains out, he felt exposed in casual clothes, and vulnerable without a weapon on his person. "Get a grip Cooper" he chided as he decided to head for the bar and order a beer.

He sipped at the beverage idly as he did his best to tune out the rest of the club, every passing second making him want to shoot something more, not less. He was shaken from his angry mumblings by another patron, a redheaded woman who was about his age who quickly ordered and slammed back a drink with surprising ease. "Rough day?" he asked dryly as he continued to sip on his beer.

"You have no idea" responded the woman as she slammed the glass back down on the bar. "Nobody to blame but myself of course, I knew the boss was an asshole before I took the job" she continued. Cooper couldn't help but respond with a sound that straddled the line between chuckle and snicker, drawing a bemused look from the woman. "Mary Jane Watson, investigative reporter for the Daily Bugle" she introduced with an outstretched hand.

"Matt Cooper" responded the pilot as he shook the offered hand, fighting to find where he had heard that name before. "I just arrived here from Texas two weeks back, still acclimating to 'The City that Never Sleeps'" he admitted with a shrug. "It's a lot to take in."

"You don't know the half of it" she replied as her next drink arrived. "And you show up just as we get another masked vigilante running around, I should know, he's who's been giving me so many problems" she explained, causing Matt to raise an eyebrow in question. "I've been assigned to 'expose' him by J. Jonah Jameson, you know him?" Cooper shook his head, now listening intently to the redhead. "Figures" she snorted, "he's the editor in chief of the paper, he's been trying to get Spiderman's head put on a stake for years now" she explained.

Matthew strained to maintain a straight face at that, he had never been that big into comic books, but he knew a bit about Spiderman. "And now this 'Marauder' starts gunning people down and Jameson feels as if he was right all along, vigilantes are going to start coming out of the woodwork and soon they'll be eating babies" she said with a roll of her eyes as she downed her drink. "Of course, he wants me to prove it for him. So, I'm chasing this ghost, picking up the pieces he leaves behind."

Taking a sip of his quickly depleting beer to hide his change in expression, he prepared a carefully measured response. "Is that so? And how's that going?" he asked dryly, fighting every fiber of his being to ensure that the words didn't sound smug.

"The Marauder isn't stupid, his identity is a mystery, but I've found some interesting things in my investigation" she said. "His actions seem random at first glance, but I think there's a pattern. He's already caused the police to get more guns and drugs off the streets in the last week than they usually would in a month. He's hitting crime at the source" she explained, her expression coming alive as she talked about what she had found.

She went and pointed out patterns in his actions that even he hadn't noticed. How he was living up to the name that he had been given, 'The Marauder'. Yet, that wasn't the most surprising thing the journalist told him. "People are already comparing him to Frank Castle. And if he is anything like the Punisher, it's not a long shot to assume he has some support" she told him.

"Really?" said a shocked Cooper. "I wouldn't expect to hear that" he grunted.

"I didn't expect it either, and Jameson really wasn't" she replied. "Nobody is going to admit on the record that they approve of what he's doing, but there will be some out there." The redheaded reporter took a healthy sip of her drink, "there are all kinds I guess" she mused with a hint of mirth. "Of course, Jameson isn't happy with that kind of information. All he wants is whatever will make the Marauder look bad and get him sales."

Cooper chuckled at that, "Now, I don't really know how that journalism stuff works, but you telling me all this doesn't exactly make me want to rush out and buy your paper ya' know" he drawled.

Mary Jane smirked back, rolling her eyes at the sarcastic comment. "That's the real bitch about it, chances are none of that will end up being printed, so no harm done" she said with a shrug.

Before Matt could respond, he heard a new voice shouting over the music behind the two. "MJ! There you are!" said the unknown as the two turned to see a youngish looking man, head adorned with a mess of brown hair and slight in stature, approaching them.

But as he looked closer Cooper felt his hairs stand on end as he watched him weave through the crowd. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he scrutinized the man. Despite his slender profile, he seemed to be lean, built more like a gymnast than the nerd his face would suggest. He didn't carry himself with confidence, but still managed to subconsciously glide across the floor in a way he had come to associate with veteran Pilots, not dweeby 20-somethings. The redhead gave him a dry look, "Peter, you're late" she said matter-of-factly, "again" she added, flatly.

"I'm really sorry MJ" said 'Peter', Matt recognizing the poor guy was doing damage control, doing whatever he could to salvage the evening. Considering the redhead he was pleading his case to, Cooper could hardly blame him. "You know how work can be! I got hung up again."

MJ shook her head, though Matthew saw the faint smile on her lips. "Of course you did Tiger, I know how you are when it comes to your work" she said with a faint laugh. "You didn't miss much honestly, just me venting about Jameson" she said, a knowing look and nod coming in reply.

Cooper couldn't suppress a laugh, which caused the new arrival to turn to him. "Name's Peter Parker, nice to meet you" he introduced.

Shaking himself from a shocked stupor, Matt reached his hand out. "I'm Cooper" he said as he shook hands. "Matt Cooper" he finished with a bit of a grin at his unexpected echoing of James Bond. "So what do you do?"

Peter took delivery of a cola, twisting the cap off with surprising ease before answering. "I'm a lab assistant at a startup in Greenwich under a brilliant scientist named Doctor…"

"I think you already lost him Tiger" interjected MJ with a playful smirk as Cooper's eyes began to glaze over at the prospect of listening to Parker speak about what he got up to in a lab. Despite all of his high-tech gear it wasn't what he really cared about, he just used it and didn't care as much about what made it work.

Peter noticed how Matt's eyes were wandering as he took a sip of his beer before shrinking a bit. "Sorry" said Cooper honestly, "but the lady's right. If you keep going down that path it'll all go straight over my head" admitted the Texan honestly, "if you wanna talk about that stuff then you'll have to use small words" he finished dryly.

The couple shared a laugh at that, the tension eased somewhat, aided in the Pilot's mind by the beer he was working on. "How are you finding New York Matt? I bet its taking some getting used to" guessed Peter, getting a nod in return.

"I'm already missing the Texas tax rate" retorted Cooper, "and lord knows how y'all manage with rent. I didn't even bother with an apartment and got a little workshop off the island where I'm free to tinker on my cars and a few other things" he revealed with a laugh. "Though not sure how much I'll use 'em since you Yankees don't know how to drive."

"That's New York courtesy for you" agreed Mary Jane with a nod. "And just to think, that's on a good day when a costumed maniac isn't rampaging through the city."

Peter agreed with a very enthusiastic nod, "you should've seen the traffic jams the Rhino caused." Matthew had read up on the city's recent events, and was familiar with the various super powered criminals that had shown up at one point or another, but could only wince at the image forming in his head. "It's why I don't bother with cabs. There are other ways that are faster."

You have no idea concurred Matthew, thinking of how easy it was to wallrun above the swarms of taxis, part of him wanting to get back out there. "Thanks for the advice, my Rangers are coming to town next week and I might go see a game."

"Three game series with the Mets, right?" asked Peter as the brunette perked up.

In response, the redhead rolled her eyes, "oh god, here we go" she muttered, but was promptly ignored.

"That's right, and they don't stand a chance" boasted the Texan confidently, "our rotation finally started clicking and we're on a roll."

Before Peter could retort, he turned and noticed his girlfriend fixing him with an unamused expression before he looked apologetically at both of them in turn. "As much as I'd like to explain why you're wrong, I'll let our bats do the talking like they have been all year" he quipped quickly. "Give me your number real quick and I'll let you know the best place to watch 'your Rangers' lose." Cooper couldn't help bet let out a small chuckle as the two exchanged numbers and the couple moved to the dance floor, just two average people out for a good time.

But Cooper knew better, he had seen enough movies growing up to know that Peter Parker was Spider-Man and had seen enough to be sure of that being the case. He seemed so…normal, it struck him as odd. Despite a beer, the music, even dancing with a few attractive girls at the club, the Pilot felt bored, it all felt like a waste of time. Despite the music and lights, none of it replicated the rush he had become so accustomed to when he donned his helmet and jump kit. When he settled his tab and called it an early night, he did so itching to get back into the action.

Where the day previously he was wondering how he could live with himself as a Pilot, now he couldn't imagine living without being one.

Wilson Fisk was working late, not an unusual occurrence for those who knew the mogul. His ornate office was dimly lit, just enough so he could make out the reports that had arrived at his desk. At this hour, his official work was complete, and his more opportunistic ventures were his main focus.

The Kingpin sat back in his chair, carefully reading a report of the status of a new and ambitious long term project. The last of the shipments had arrived and was already being distributed, despite the best efforts of yet another masked thorn in his side. Even Walt Simmons was replaceable, and with his plans so close to fruition, the weasel wouldn't be able to spill his guts to police in time to make a difference.

That didn't mean there weren't loose ends however, with a few keystrokes, his monitor showed the profiles of the two largest. The Spiderman had been active for years and had been accounted for as this plane came together. But this 'Marauder' was new and hadn't been planned for.

Fisk opened a folder and read a recent update, this plan was reliant on the cooperation of small-time gangs, and a few had already gotten cold feet regarding their orders with this armored vigilante roaming the city unchecked. But he hadn't gotten to where he was by sitting idly by while the world left him behind. The Kingpin was owed a large number of favors, and he decided the time had come to call one in.

Reaching for the telephone, he picked up the handset and dialed a memorized number. On the third ring the call was accepted, and Wilson spoke immediately. "Hello old friend" he said, a slight smile creeping onto his face. "How soon can you be in New York? I have a job for you."

Captain Yuri Watanabe looked over the information they had accumulated, finally able to go through everything since the city had gone three nights without an attack by the Marauder. Combined with what Simmons had been telling police while he remained in protective custody, the picture was slowly coming together.

"So it turns out this guy's been gunning for Kingpin all along. Maybe we do actually have something in common" said Martinez as he leaned back in his chair and looked at the board. The locations of places Kingpin had been funneling weapons shipments and places the Marauder had hit. "How the hell did we not notice it?"

"Simmons said that this has been in the works for a while now, I'm checking with the feds but so far nobody's gotten back to me" answered Johnson as she resumed chewing on her pencil. Yuri looked at the web of POIs Simmons had tied to Fisk as well as trying to find what motivated the Marauder.

Yuri pushed herself up off the desk and looked at the heavily marked up map of the city hanging on the wall next to their white board, both covered in sticky notes and scribbles. She looked at the map and soon pointed at one spot in particular. "He hasn't been here yet" she said as she stepped back, and the others saw where she had pointed.

"Fisk Industries Distribution Center?" said Martinez disbelievingly. "But last sighting we had of the trucks that left the docks had them going away from the city, and Simmons didn't name it as one of the end points" continued the older Hispanic detective as he shook his head dismissively.

Johnson furrowed her brow as she took the pencil from her mouth. "No, but it could be a middle point. If Simmons is right about the final destination being gangs here in Manhattan it is an ideal way to get them there" she countered. "You think the Marauder is thinking the exact same thing?"

Yuri nodded in affirmation, the corners of her mouth curling upwards slightly. "I'm going to make some calls, get us a warrant for a stakeout. We go tonight" she said, getting a round of nods from the two detectives.

"I got a bad feeling about this" quipped Martinez as Yuri left the two to resume their bickering.

Cooper sat on a rooftop overlooking the Distribution center, BT had determined that this was the most likely staging ground for weapons shipments that had come into the city. He had spent a few days scouting possible locations, and slowly crossed them off until he was left with the massive complex before him.

Inside his helmet, the screams of Steven Tyler filled his ears as he listened to Back in the Saddle and picked up his R-6P, the 'Softball' grenade launcher with its adhesive anti-personnel grenades. Giving the cylinder an experimental spin before placing it on his back. "Any last-minute updates BT?" asked Cooper as the Marauder expanded his R-201. The ever-reliable Carbine was a well-rounded fully automatic option that packed a serious punch.

"No Pilot, your objectives remain the same. Search suspected location for illegal weapons distribution. Gather intelligence regarding operations of Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin" rattled off the Titan as Matthew drew a magazine and tapped it on his helmet before placing it into the rifle. "Stay alert pilot, intel gathered in previous missions suggests the enemy is transporting heavy weapons. They will likely not hesitate to use these weapons against you."

Matt chuckled, "no shit" he said dryly as he chambered the first 8.19mm round. That was the very reason he wasn't skimping out on firepower of his own either.

"Excrement is unrelated to this matter Pilot" chided BT sternly, Cooper unable to suppress the bark of laughter that worked its way through him. Instead of responding, he simply let it be, but making a mental note to go over figures of speech with BT-7274.

The Pilot watched the last truck leave the facility and let out a breath as he turned off his music. "Let's do this" he quoted as he leapt from his vantage and used an adjacent building to clear the fence around the perimeter.

Rolling into a crouch, he scanned the area with his R-201 pressed into his shoulder, ready for action, but didn't see a single goon. No gun toting workers, no security, nothing. Sprinting into cover, he tried the door. "Damn, locked" he muttered as he looked at the rather simple lock. "Fuck it" he growled as he smashed the stock of his rifle into it, breaking the lock and he pushed it open to find…