Atop a high stack of containers at Brooklyn's Pier 14, the blue glow of the Anywhere Door had yet to fade completely.
The sea breeze carried up the stench of blood from below.
Relying on the Chitauri exoskeletons mounted on their backs, Hydra agents pushed straight through the gangsters' submachine-gun fire and tore two of them apart with their bare hands.
The Hand's red ninjas leaped from the shadows of the containers, slipping their tachi through gaps in the exoskeletons to sever the agents' Achilles tendons.
Bullseye stood in the middle of the melee, his mechanical left hand clamped around a Hydra agent's neck.
The exoskeleton was still running on overload, trying to fight back. Bullseye tightened his five fingers.
The crack of the agent's neck was drowned out by the surrounding gunfire, and he died.
Bullseye tossed the corpse aside and looked up, as though sensing something. A searchlight swept overhead at that exact moment.
He saw the man standing at the edge of the container. A black outdoor jacket, arms wrapped in thick medical bandages, gold-rimmed glasses.
His memories rushed back to a few months ago. This back-alley doctor had shattered every bone in his body and left him a quadriplegic.
He had lain in a windowless hospital room every day, unable even to turn over.
Kingpin had spent a fortune obtaining alien materials through underground channels and had this robotic arm, equipped with a Chitauri Energy Core, fitted to his left shoulder.
The rejection had caused unbearable pain, but he had endured it. Today, he had come to the docks to seize the shipment and test his prosthetic's combat performance along the way.
At the sight of a familiar face, hatred drowned out reason.
Bullseye abandoned the Hydra agents and ninjas slaughtering one another around him and