The crew fanned out around them in a loose semicircle, cutting off the sidewalk in both directions. Nobody nearby was sticking around to watch.
Eleanor's expression shifted the moment she read the situation...
Eleanor's expression shifted the moment she read the situation. She moved closer to Matthew, quiet and deliberate, and slipped her watch off her wrist, winding the strap around her knuckles.
Matthew, by contrast, looked almost bored.
"You're right," he said to Pete. "We should settle up." He tilted his head. "Actually, I'm a little fuzzy on the exact number. Why don't you remind me what I owe?"
Pete wasn't sharp enough to hear the trap in that, and even if he had been, he probably wouldn't have cared. As far as he was concerned, the guy standing in front of him was the same pushover he'd been shaking down for years. People like that didn't change overnight.
"You borrowed twenty thousand over three years," Pete said. "That right?"
"That's right."
"And how much have you paid back so far?"
"Thirty thousand."
Matthew spread his hands. "So I've paid back the full principal, plus more than the highest legal interest rate on the market. I haven't even come to you to ask for the overpayment back. And now you're here telling me I owe you money. Does that sound right to you?"
One of the crew members behind Pete shifted uncomfortably. "He's... kind of got a point, boss."
Pete turned and looked at the man like he'd said something offensive. "He doesn't have a damn point." He waved the guy back and fixed his eyes on Matthew. "Lawrence. You don't actually think the Margia crew runs on bank rates, do you?"
"I've done the math. After your thirty thousand, you still owe us twenty more."
He let that sit for a second, then added, more quietly, "And you know what happens if you tell me no."
His hand drifted to the waistband of his tracksuit and rested against the bulge there.
Matthew clocked it immediately.
So did Eleanor. Without hesitating, she stepped in front of him.
"Sir," she murmured. "He's armed."
"I see it."
The standoff held for a moment, the street noise filling the silence around them. Then a familiar voice cut through from the edge of the crowd, loose and unbothered.
"Well. Matthew Lawrence and Eleanor Ross. Looks like you two are having a day."
Tony Stark pushed through, Happy a step behind him.
They hadn't been far. They'd heard most of it.
Tony hadn't planned to get involved, but Happy had mentioned on the walk over that he knew Eleanor, and that had been enough to tip the scale.
"You know Tony Stark?" Eleanor said quietly, without turning around.
"Not personally. You?"
"No. But I know the man with him. Back when he was still fighting."
Matthew's father had owned a boxing promotion company among his various holdings. Happy Hogan had been one of their fighters, unremarkable enough that the company had been ready to cut him after a bad loss. Eleanor had arranged a funding injection that kept the operation going long enough for Happy to find his footing. He'd eventually left the ring to work for Stark, but the timing had mattered, and he remembered it.
That was why he'd recognized her from half a block away.
Matthew let the pieces fit together and said nothing.
Pete, meanwhile, was not happy about the interruption. His expression, already unpleasant, darkened further.
"Mr. Stark," he said, with the careful tone of someone who understood the name even if he didn't like it, "if you're just passing through, I'd suggest keeping it moving. This is a private conversation."
Tony looked at him for a moment.
"I actually caught most of your private conversation," he said. "Sounds like this is about money." He pulled a ring off his finger and held it out. "This is worth around two hundred thousand. I'm guessing that covers whatever you think he owes you, with room to spare."
He held it out until Pete took it.
Pete glanced at the ring, glanced at his crew, then looked back at Matthew and Tony with the recalibrated smile of a man adjusting his position.
"Mr. Stark. Take your friend. We're done here."
He shifted his gaze to Matthew, and the smile went flat.
"For now. Next time I see you, Matthew, you settle it yourself. You know what happens if you don't."
Silence settled over the group. Even the traffic seemed quieter for a second.
Matthew stared at him.
Then he started laughing, quietly, the way someone does when they can't quite believe what they're hearing.
Pete seemed to think this conversation was over. Pete seemed to think Matthew was leaving.
"Mr. Stark," Matthew said, turning to Tony, "this really isn't your situation to be in. I appreciate what you just did, genuinely. But you should head out."
Tony opened his mouth.
Three black cars pulled up to the curb, all bearing the Umbrella logo.
The doors opened before anyone had fully registered what was happening, and somewhere between a dozen and twenty large men in dark clothing stepped out and moved with the quiet efficiency of people who had done this before. Within seconds, Pete and every one of his crew were face-down on the pavement. The ones who tried to resist were put to sleep with a single elbow and didn't try again.
From the moment the cars stopped to the moment it was over, thirty seconds had passed.
Pete was still trying to work out what had happened when the knee on his back made it difficult to breathe.
"Hey! Let go of me! What is this, what are you doing, I didn't touch Stark, I was after the other guy, the one called Matthew! You've got the wrong person! Let go!"
The man pinning him didn't move. Pete might as well have been arguing with the sidewalk.
Matthew crouched down in front of him.
"You've got the right person," he said. He reached into Pete's jacket pocket and found the ring, wiped it against Pete's sleeve, and stood up. He flicked it in a clean arc toward Happy, who caught it without looking up.
"They got here fast because you were looking for me."
He looked down at Pete with an expression that was almost friendly.
"Ross," he said, straightening up, "doesn't the home office have a standing request for volunteers? For the experimental trials?" He looked over the crew spread across the pavement. "These gentlemen look like they're in excellent health."
He let the pause sit.
"Take them."