C206 What do the Irish Eat?

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Hopping off of the building, Peter listens to the gunshots and chaos inside the restaurant, as he walks over to one of the broken windows and watches the show unfold.

'I need some popcorn...' Peter thought as a bucket of popcorn appeared in his hand. 'Practicing spells without the circles was worth it.'

While Peter was figuring out how to eat food through his mask, Natasha led the future Defenders on their first real mission.

Frank maneuvered through the building like a machine, dropping bodies whichever way he looked.

Loki seemed to be familiarizing himself with mortal weaponry as he kept to the shadows, attacking only when it was least expected.

Jessica tore through the place like a pint-sized hulk, though she wasn't bulletproof, so her plan of attack required a bit more finesse than the angry green giant.

Thankfully, her body suit was bulletproof up to a certain caliber of ammunition, so if she makes a mistake it wouldn't be fatal.

Unless, of course, she gets shot in the head...

Natasha, knowing this could happen, stood by Jessica's side, as she was the student that needed the most training and guidance.

After all, Matt was trained by a man that could demolish the average shield agent and go toe to toe with her.

As for Matt, he moved through the place like a martial acrobat, beating down hostile Irishmen with relative ease. Killing wasn't his forte, so he only incapacitated his opponents.

'Meh, these Irish guys are pretty weak...' Peter was happy that he decided to delegate this work, as it would be a waste of time and effort for him.

Within minutes, every mobster in the building was either killed or captured, while Nesbitt was strapped to a chair in the center of the room.

"What do you want? Money?" Nesbitt started bartering for his life, unsure which group these people were from. "I can give each of you a million dollars. Just untie me and we'll get you paid, eh?"

As the room descended into silence without a single person taking the offer, the front door swung open and Spider-Man casually walked inside.

"You guys open?" Peter asks as he picks up a menu. "I've always wanted to try Haggis."

"Haggis is from Scotland, you f*cking idiot!" Nesbitt couldn't hold his tongue as he turned to see who he just spoke to. "S-Spider-Man..."

Ignoring the man tied to a chair, Peter looked over at Natasha.

"If they don't sell haggis, then what do Irish people eat?" Peter asks in mock confusion.

"Potatoes, sir." Natasha answers with a smirk.

"I thought they didn't have potatoes?" Jessica joins in on the fun. "Wasn't there a famine or something?"

"..." Nesbitt was fuming at this point, though he kept his mouth shut in Spider-Mans presence.

"Yeah, hey baldy." Peter throws the menu away as he turns to the bound Irishman. "What kind of food do you serve here?"

"..." Nesbitt took a moment to calm himself before speaking. "I'd be happy to explain our menu, but I'm sure you're here for more important reasons."

Even with Spider-Man right in front of him, Nesbitt was still looking for a way to weasel out of this situation.

"You would be right. After all, who cares about Irish food." Peter throws in another insult as he grabs a chair and takes a seat across from the Irishman. "Tell me about the reason behind the shooting in Central Park and the hit on the Castle family."

Ignoring the insult to the cuisine of his motherland, Nesbitt sits back and puts on a calm demeanor.

"What's in it for me?" He asks tentatively.

"What's in it for you is we don't blow your brains out!" Frank says as he rests the hot barrel of his assault rifle on the side of Nesbitt's bald head.

"What he said." Peter says with a shrug. "Though I'd be willing to possibly let you walk, if your info is good enough."

Frank looked at Peter with piercing eyes, unwilling to leave one of the men that ordered the assault on his family alive, but Peter just waved him off.

"Oh, I got good info alright." Nesbitt says as he leans forward intently. "But I want your word that I'll walk."

"Sure, now talk." Peter nods as he leans back in his seat.

"I was promised military hardware, a lot of it." Nesbitt starts singing like a bird.

"For what?" Peter asks, as Franks listens in intently.

"You already know what for." Nesbitt says with a roll of his eyes. "You said it yourself. A shooting to cover the deaths of that family. Whatever their name was."

Upon hearing real evidence to the attack on his family, Frank fumed as he wondered who could be behind it.

Though one thing was for sure, he now fully believed in Peters allegations.

"Who paid for it?" Peter asks.

"I don't have a real name, but we call him Blacksmith." Nesbitt reveals eagerly. "He mainly deals in heroin, but I didn't need that, so he offered up military assault rifles, ammunition, and some explosives."

"Do you know what he looks like?" Peter asks again.

"No, but the goods were delivered by some blacked-out soldier-looking guys. Real professional. Real deadly." He explains, causing Frank's face to scrunch up in contemplation.

"Where are these goods?" Peter asks and Nesbitt immediately motions to the corner of the room with his bald head.

In the corner were a lot of military-style containers, stacked up high.

"Anything else of importance to add?" Peter asks as Natasha walks over to examine the crates and their contents.

"Yeah, you're going after the others for this, right?" Nesbitt asks with a vindictive smirk on his face. "I never liked those Mexicans. The dogs, on the other hand, are an alright bunch, but they won't be missed either."

Ignoring what he said, Peter turns to Frank.

"Cut him loose." Peter orders.

Frank stands there unmoving for a moment as he glared in Peter's direction, though soon enough, he followed orders like a good soldier and cut Nesbitt free.

"Well, this has been fun and all, but I'll be on my way." The unbound Irishman says as he gets up and paces to the door.

Walking up to Frank, who was staring intently at Nesbitt's retreating figure, Peter pats him on the shoulder.

"I kept my word." Peter says as he indeed let the man walk. "He's all yours now."

"?" Frank was confused for only a few seconds before realization struck him and a smirk formed on his lips. "Yes, sir."

*bang!*

Frank lifted his rifle and fired a single bullet at the back of Nesbitt's oblivious bald head, killing him instantly as his body toppled onto the restaurant floor.

"Aren't you supposed to be a hero?" Jessica asks as she watched everything unfold.

"Killing can be heroic too." Peter says with a shrug. "That man ordered what amounts to a terrorist attack on a crowded fair-"

"He deserved worse than he got." Frank cuts in as he walks over to Natasha, who already had a few of the crates cracked open. "That's definitely military grade."

Frank stared at the assault rifles for a good moment, as they reminded him of the exact ones that Cerberus Squad would use in Afghanistan.

"Okay, we have some information, so let's see if the other groups know anything more." Peter says as he opens a portal leading to the tower. "Bring the crates through and we'll have the cops deal with everything else."

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After supervising the group as they carried over the military crates, Peter called the Police Chief and had him take care of the rest of the cleanup.

With their work done, Peter opened a portal to a building across the street from a noisy biker bar, where a long row of motorcycles was parked outside.

"Same as before." Peter says as he shoos them away.

...

Peter watched as the group ran over to the bar, and Jessica kicked over a motorcycle with a vindictive smirk, starting a chain reaction, as every motorcycle fell one after the other, like dominos, alerting the angry bikers inside.

Due to the perfect lore, which dragged every enemy out of the bar, the Dogs of Hell were even easier to handle compared to the Irish.

Once everything was taken care of, Peter came down and questioned their leader, Jimmy the Bear, who wasn't as talkative as the bald Irishman, though, after some time alone with Natasha, they couldn't get him to stop running his mouth.

Sadly, his story was the same and so was his end.

After Frank had his vengeance, they confiscated the military goods and left everything else for the police to handle.

"This is a waste of time..." Loki says in annoyance as they return to the tower with the second round of crates.

"We're getting military-grade weaponry off of the streets..." Matt says in confusion. "How is that a waste of time?"

"But it's so dreadfully boring..." Loki whines as he flops down on a nearby couch. "I want to know who this Blacksmith character is."

"..." Peter watched as the group talked amongst themselves, shocked that Loki seemed somewhat interested in the mystery behind all of this. 'This is a good doorway into crime-fighting for him...'

...

After the crates were safely stored and everyone was slightly rested, Peter opened a portal to Juarez Mexico, where they would continue their little investigation.

A/N: 1581 words

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