The Bullpen

Bullseye vs Daredevil Part One

As always, thank you to Thomas Cargen for all of the great Daredevil artwork.

Turk paused to catch his breath before he carried the heavy bag onto the roof of the building. He dropped the bag in the middle of the roof and turned around to walk back to the car.

“Not there Turk. Put the bag at the edge of the roof over here.”

Turk groaned and lifted the bag again. “Why do I have to do all the lifting and carrying?”

“I usually kill people that irritate me, Turk. If I were you, I’d concentrate on not irritating me.”

Turk swallowed nervously and nodded. Criminals were always exaggerating their reps but this guy was the real deal. If Turk had known he would be chosen to be Bullseye’s gofer, he would never have agreed to work for the Kingpin’s massive organization.

Bullseye pulled the mask over his face so his distinctive uniform was complete as Turk dumped the bag against the lip of the roof. “Wait in the car and be ready to go.” He ordered Turk as he untied the drawstring on the duffel bag.

He picked up a baseball from the bag and idly ran his thumb over the stitching as he watched Turk shuffle away. He considered warming up his shoulder by sending a lethal fastball to the back of Turk’s head but he decided to let Turk continue his miserable existence. A fast getaway might be very useful after he was finished with his business here.

His business this evening was relatively straightforward. Draw out Daredevil and kill him. This was Bullseye’s favourite type of contract. Not only was the Kingpin putting few restrictions on him, Fisk was encouraging him to spread violence and fear. Hell’s Kitchen was actively defying the Kingpin’s attempts at control and they felt safe from retribution under the umbrella of Daredevil’s protection, especially since DD had put both the Gladiator and Mister Fear in the hospital. The entire neighbourhood needed to be taught a lesson, subtlety and diplomacy were out the window.

Bullseye had experience with this type of job. He had helped to wipe out a couple of villages in South Vietnam that sheltered Viet Cong. However, this time he was an independent operator and he was going to have a little fun.

The day was turning to dusk now and his dark blue, on the verge of black, costume blended with the darkness well. The camouflage effect was ruined by bright white concentric circles but that was the message he wanted to convey. He didn’t need to hide from the world, the world needed to hide from him.

Bullseye tossed the baseball up in the air and caught it with a snap of skin on leather. He watched the street three stories below and tried to decide who lucky #1 should be. A teenager with a bright green Mohawk and a screeching boombox on his shoulder became his first choice. Bullseye had no idea what band the freak was playing but he recognized that punk rock crap when he heard it.

The baseball hit the teenager’s head at 110 mph and he collapsed dead while the boombox shattered into pieces as it hit the sidewalk. Bullseye calmly picked up another baseball as he watched a small crowd start to gather around the corpse. He killed one of the spectators wearing a Chicago Bears shirt. What was a Chicago fan doing in New York anyway?

Bullseye rubbed his shoulder but it felt good. Before he was drafted, he had been an MLB pitcher until he killed a batter and narrowly escaped a manslaughter conviction. He could throw 110 mph fastballs all day but if he pushed it up to 120 mph or higher the tendons in his elbow and shoulder started to feel it.

He frowned when a couple of cops showed up and they tried to make sense out of what was going on. The Kingpin’s one rule tonight was to never kill a cop and Bullseye would respect the rules. The Kingpin was the only boss Bullseye would work for because he was smart, ruthless and he printed money.

A man noticed Bullseye standing at the edge of the roof and pointed upward while yelling at the cops. He was able to get three words out before a baseball crushed the front of his skull.

The cops looked up at him and went for their guns. Bullseye laughed. He was across a wide street and three stories up, even if they were expert marksmen the chances of them hitting him with their .38 handguns were pretty slim. Still, even a loser can win the lottery if they buy a ticket.

A baseball broke the bones in one of the cop’s hands while he was fumbling with the safety strap for his holster. Bullseye curved the next ball so it smashed the second cop’s elbow while he was in mid draw. He doubted the Kingpin would mind. They were still alive and they would heal.

The cops were allowed to run away but everyone else was fair game. He fell into a steady rhythm of throwing with his right hand while reaching for more balls with his left. The runners were a bit of a challenge because he had to lead the ball. This wasn’t like shooting a high powered rifle. According to his math it took about ¾ of a second for a 110 mph fastball to cross the street.

He swore when an old geezer trying to run away stumbled and fell just when he released the ball, causing him to completely miss the head shot. His equilibrium was restored when the next baseball got the headshot with a wet slapping sound.

Bullseye stopped and rubbed his sore shoulder for a few seconds. He had let himself get irritated and probably threw that last one over 120 mph. The bag was already half empty and the street was completely empty except for bodies scattered like windswept debris.

He spread the fingers on his left hand and pulled another three baseballs out of the duffel bag. The baseball in his right hand was tossed up and down as he looked for targets. There was no sign of Daredevil yet but he wasn’t surprised. It had only taken Bullseye a few minutes to go through half a bag of baseballs and it wasn’t like DD could teleport.

There was a man hiding behind a mailbox he spotted in the reflection of a store window and he smiled in anticipation of the challenge. He put some serious spin on the ball and curved it enough to swerve around the mailbox and clip the man on the shoulder.

“No good. No good.” He muttered as he watched the reflection. He wasn’t going to kill anyone with a curveball to the shoulder. He cranked a fastball into the wall behind him and watched the ricochet. Close but no cigar.

The ricochet made him think of the bizarre ricochets Daredevil could pull off with that billy club of his. He suspected the billy club had a hard rubber core inside a metal sleeve but there was still something supernatural about how perfectly Daredevil could snap off his ricochets.

Bullseye threw another two baseballs in quick succession. His next ricochet hit the right angle and took out his target’s knee. He waited a second as the man cried out in pain and sprawled beside the mailbox before he finished him off with a heater to the head.

He filled up with another four baseballs as he scanned the rooftops. ‘Hurry up hornhead.’ He mused to himself. ‘I’m starting to get bored and I’m going to run out of baseballs.’

There was motion in a window across the street and he spun and threw automatically to break the glass. Another baseball followed the first a second later and killed an elderly woman who was trying to see why the street was so quiet.

The woman’s age was close to the same age as Bullseye’s own grandmother and this gave him a little satisfaction. He had always hated her bible thumping B.S.

There had been little in the way of unusual sounds except for scattered shouts and some of the people living in apartments along the street were still unaware of the slaughter that had been taking place outside. A young woman exited a doorway and entered the street, pushing a baby stroller ahead of her. She walked a few paces before stopping in confusion as people started to yell at her to run back inside.

She looked up at Bullseye when he took out a wheel on the stroller. “Somebody, rescue her!” He called out mockingly as she struggled to keep the stroller upright and drag it back into the doorway. “Let’s go you bunch of heroes.” He shouted and smashed another stroller wheel. “Somebody, save her.”

The young mother pulled her baby out of the ruined stroller and ran for the doorway. She had grabbed the handle when another baseball took out her knee with a dull snap. She fell to the ground but instinctively held her baby above herself so it wasn’t harmed.

“Come on you cowards. Somebody, help her!” He laughed as he pulled another ball out of the nearly empty duffle bag and looked down at the young woman lying flat on her back with her baby hugged to her chest.

The Kingpin wanted him to spread some death and terror on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen and nothing spread terror like a murdered baby. Bullseye knew that from experience as well.

Bullseye spun around when Daredevil swung up onto the roof. He had chosen this building carefully. There were no tall buildings nearby and Daredevil would have to pull himself up from the street, making it impossible to catch someone like Bullseye by surprise.

He had done his recon and he was ready for Daredevil. Sniper fire was useless against him. Bullseye had found that out after his first brief encounter with DD. He had talked to anyone who had tangled with Daredevil from Tombstone to the Paladin and they all basically told him the same thing. Daredevil was almost impossible to hit because he seemed to know what you were doing before you did it yourself. Out of all the people Bullseye talked to none of them could claim they beat Daredevil in a fight.

Bullseye wasn’t interested in fighting with Daredevil, he was here to kill him. He was carrying an array of handguns, throwing knives and shurikens. It didn’t matter if Daredevil was even telepathic, nobody on Earth could avoid the perfectly aimed storm of steel and lead that Bullseye was capable of. First, he needed to free his hands so he threw his remaining baseball at Daredevil with everything he had.

He was under no illusions and he knew how dangerous his opponent was but even Bullseye was shocked when Daredevil stepped forward and caught a 130 mph fastball with his naked hand. It must have hurt like hell based on a sound that was halfway between a crack and a slap but Daredevil didn’t acknowledge the pain as he immediately pulled his arm back for a throw of his own.

Bullseye’s reactions were so fast that he lived most of his life in between the seconds. He allowed himself 50 milliseconds of doubt during the time it took Daredevil to pull his arm back for a throw. He realized it might not be Daredevil who would die on this rooftop tonight. It might be him.