“Sixth Hood Found Dead!” the head line blazed.
J. Jonah Jameson smugly slapped the paper down on his and looked up at Robbie Robertson, an Editor-in-Chief at the Daily Bugle, and Ben Urich, one of the Bugle’s top reporters. All three of them were standing around Jonah’s office, the lights off, but the room still well lit from the sun shining in from outside. Jonah sometimes liked the natural light, as opposed to the fluorescence. Sometimes. He felt that the shadows that came from the light contrasting with the furniture gave the room an aura of a holy nature. It filled his body with warmth, with enthusiasm and life… which, of course, he naturally did not project unto others.
“What do you think?” he asked of the other two men.
“It’s another good editorial, Jonah, but where are you going with this?” Robbie asked of his long time friend. “What do we even know about this guy?” he continued to ask as looked at Jonah from his spot against the wall of his wife. He shifted his attention to Ben as the eyes of the former were locked on the latter’s.
“Ahem. Well, let’s see…” Ben started, standing next to the door. After taking a brief pause to glance at his notes, he cleared his throat and answered Robbie’s question. “What we know for certain is that he was a relative nobody as far as the underworld’s concerned,” he explained. “Lesley Hampton seemingly ran a small drug trafficking ring around the lower Bronx area,” he continued, but suddenly paused again and glanced down at his notes again.
“Okay, now on to what we’re assuming,” Ben said. We’ve learned (though not for certain) that the Hobgoblin has been keeping back his brazen and flamboyant attacks for a more subtle take over of New York’s underworld. It seems he’s effectively taken control of most of the local street gangs in the inner city, from which the only positive comes from.”
“Eh?” Jonah grunted. “What could be so positive about that?” he asked, but Robbie stopped him, nodding to Ben.
“How’d he manage to settle disputes between all the inner city gangs?” he asked.
“Not sure,” Ben replied. “One of our main suspicions is that he’s been promising a bigger check through a take over of organized crime. Survival is the main priority of these guys, anyway, and money can ensure just that.”
“I do remember reading some numbers from the District Attorney’s press release last week that there’ve been less bystanders being gunned down in inner city areas…” Jonah added, making the connection.
“Yeah, but the negative is that these inner city gangs have been started moving in on organized crime turf,” Ben explained, “which has been leading to more violence in those areas. The Hobgoblin’s a pretty powerful figure on the streets right now, almost rivaling the Kingpin in his early days.”
“And now other gangs are fighting back,” Robbie sighed, glancing out the window. He ran his hands over his face, and then through his hair, in frustration and sadness.
“Yup,” Ben confirmed somberly. “Hammerhead is starting to take retaliatory measures. Jimmy Six, too, as he’s starting to lose a boat load of influence and street cred. However, cornered prey is the most dangerous of all, as they say… and then…” the reporter trailed off, cocking his head. “I’m practically betting on it that pretty soon the Kingpin is going to get involved. Right now it’s hush-hush with quieter hits, but it’s going to get out of hand soon.”
Jonah gave a sly grin, betraying his true emotion of apprehension.
“And I'm bettin' if something isn’t done soon, the streets are gonna explode...”
Back to GatefoldIssue #34 by Adnan Khan
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"NATIONS OF GODS AND EARTHS"
Part Two - The Bigger the Error...
“This garbage is really starting to piss me off,” the Hobgoblin grumbled as he looked up from where he was standing. It was an old and decrepit looking office, the paint peeling off the walls. The desk was bare, and the chair had its cushioning spewing out. The single light gave the room an ominous presence, the corners completely covered in shadows. Its appearance didn’t matter though. The Hobgoblin didn’t need the office, other than talking to his underlings ‘in private.’ He needed to tell them what do from somewhere.
And telling them what to do was exactly what he was doing at that moment.
“I understand, but what do you want me to do?” Tombstone asked as he stood at the wooden door, almost antsy. He wanted his orders. The quicker he took care of it, the quicker he got his money, after all.
“Listen. All my boys… hell, all your boys, are being done in right now, I know who’s behind it.”
“Kingpin?” Tombstone wondered. “He’s the only one that got enough to hire someone who’s been able to get so many of our men while staying underground.”
“If it’s the Kingpin, we’re not ready for that yet… No, I doubt it’s him. He’s got his own issues to take care of.”
“Then…?” Tombstone let the question hang.
“It’s got to be Hammerhead. Jimmy 6 doesn’t have the resources to pull of this kind of thing. I need to get rid of him,” the Hobgoblin paused, “the problem is, I don’t have time for this crap. I’m gonna deal with all these bastards trying to get back their turf.”
Tombstone nodded, “I’ll take care of it. You want me to get rid of Jimmy Six while I’m at it?”
“No, not yet. He still causes problems for the Kingpin. I need him. After this deal with Hammerhead goes down, I can deal with 'Six. He’s trying to survive, and he’ll be desperate for some kind of deal.”
Tombstone began to walk out of the room, but was stopped by his boss again, “and make sure it’s messy. The city’s been wanting something big.” The Hobgoblin nodded his head at the paper with its glowing headline, “I want to see something explode."
Smiling Stevens stepped into Hammerhead’s office without knocking. He noticed the side door close as he stepped in. Stevens frowned. Every time he was about to step into Hammerhead’s office, he heard voices. Whenever he actually walked in though, no one was there. Now he knew for certain that there was someone, but whoever it was, wanted to keep his identity discreet.
Stevens didn’t think anything of this, as it wasn’t any of his business. In his line of business, he knew not to ask questions. He just wanted to get paid, and get his work done.
Hammerhead looked up at Stevens, “What can I do for you?”
“I need more money,” Stevens said with authority. He didn’t demand it, nor did he ask. It was just his assurance that he would get it that gave him confidence.
Hammerhead noticed this, and it irritated him. Stevens was effective, effective enough that he would have to give him more money. A man like Stevens on his payroll was incredibly effective, and he couldn’t afford to lose an asset like him. “How much?” Hammerhead asked.
“Just a couple G’s,” Stevens responded, grinning. “Not too much.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Yeah no, you haven’t told me why you need it. We under a contract, so you don’t tell me why you need it, you don’t get no money.”
“Well, yeah, makes sense. A’ight, it’s like this. I got job offers coming at me out the wazoo (did I just say wazoo?). Anyways, I can either stay with you, or I can just get on the hell out of here and get paid more somewhere else. You’re choice, boss.”
Hammerhead sat quietly for a moment, thinking. It frustrated him that he needed this man. He had some skilled thugs under his employ, but no one was as good as Stevens. The man could rival Bullseye.
“Well?” Stevens wondered aloud.
“Fine,” Hammerhead sighed, his large head over exaggerated as he leaned it back in his chair, “just get rid of the people I told you to and you’ll get your money.”
“Good to hear,” Stevens proceeded to walk out the door, “I knew you’d see it my way.”
After stepping out of the room, the side door in the office opened again and another man stepped in. He wore a large coat shrouding his body, and a large hat which covered his face. The man obviously wanted to be prudent with his identity.
“Want me to watch him?”
“Yeah, I still worry about him. Eventually he’s going to run into a super.”
“You don’t think he’s good enough to take on a super?” the man inquired of Hammerhead.
“Hell no, he ain’t no Bullseye,” Hammerhead paused, “from what I’ve seen so far anyways. Just watch him. When he gets hit by a super, I want you to take care of it.”
“I have it under control,” the man said and stepped towards the door Stevens had walked through minutes ago.
“And try to keep yourself quite. I don’t need others in my employ asking about you.”
“I told you, it’s under control."
A young boy named ‘Eric’ sat on the steps in front of his apartment, looking up at the sky. It was starting to warm up and it felt good to sit out here. The city was looking better and better, and recently the streets were safer than they had been before. The local band of thugs had for whatever reason been messing around in their neighborhood less and less, which made it safer for Eric to do exactly what he was doing: sit around lazily on his front steps watching people walk by. He sighed, leaning back against the steps. His mom was due home any minute, and she’d probably get mad at him for sitting on the steps like this, but the ten year old boy didn’t care. He’d go inside in a minute.
“Agh,” Eric watched as the ball he had been bouncing idly hit the corner of a step and bounced into the street. He stood up and started walking towards it when he heard a thwipping sound.
“Huh?” Eric looked at his ball and saw it had been swung back to him by a line of webbing.
“Trust me kid, it starts getting really cliché saving people walking into the street and almost getting hit by a car.”
Eric beamed when he saw Spider-Man clinging to the wall above him. “Spidey! Holy crap!”
Spider-Man grinned under his mask, “I love you too kid.” He moved his arm up and flexed his fingers, firing a line of webbing onto the building above him and swung away.
Always love fans, Spider-Man thought to himself. He was trying to get a line on the Hobgoblin’s location, and so far had been unsuccessful. It was rumored that some of the Hobgoblin’s men were running around in this neighborhood, but he had yet to see signs of anything yet. The Black Cat had told him of where she had found the villain earlier, but those places were long since abandoned. The super hero had also checked out all of Kingsley’s old haunts, but most of those had been destroyed by Osborn when he had taken over Kingsley’s assets all those years ago. Anyways, it wouldn’t have made much sense for Kingsley to be hanging out at his old stomping grounds. He’d be stupid to go back to where he used to work from.
Spider-Man continued to swing from building to building, moving out of the neighborhood when he noticed a familiar face. He quickly fired a line of webbing with his right hand at the building his left hand had a webline attached to. After the webline connected, he rotated his body in a one eighty turn, with both weblines still clinging to the same building. He then fired another line of webbing to the next building with his left hand; thus effectively turning around completely without losing any speed. Spider-Man then somersaulted into the next building’s wall and looked down towards his friend standing by himself on street corner.
Eugene idly sat at the bus stop, most probably waiting for it so he could get home. Question was though, what was he doing in this neighborhood? Peter quickly, almost defensively assumed that Eugene was just trying to get his head clear. The poor guy had been through so much recently, and was still recovering. It was nice though, to see his friend out and about, getting some fresh air. He just sat in his apartment all day moping. Peter had tried talking to him several times, but Eugene refused to open up.
Then Peter felt a familiar tingling sensation and looked around. He focused his attention on the direction it was coming from and a man a few blocks down from Eugene, walking in his direction. He held a newspaper under his arm, and was smiling to himself, whistling. Peter frowned and tensed his muscles, ready for any sign of aggression. His spider-sense then started blazing and he heard the hum of an engine. He turned his head down in the opposite direction of the smiling man and saw a car slowly creeping towards Eugene. What the hell? Peter wondered to himself.
The car stopped next to Eugene, and Peter saw the driver roll down his window. The driver motioned for Eugene to approach him with his hand. Eugene looked around confused, and stood. He warily approached the car. Peter’s senses started blazing and he immediately leaped off the wall towards his friend. As he hurled himself through air across the street, he saw the man in his peripheral vision open his newspaper and pull out a hand-held semi-automatic.
“Oof!” As the gun cocked, Peter slammed into Eugene, knocking the air out of him. Peter continued to use his momentum and rammed himself into the door, knocking it down. Peter heard glass shatter as bullets flew into the car’s read windshield. Spinning, he knocked Eugene into the corridor. “Oh shit! Oh shit!” Eugene yelled, panicking. Peter knew the last thing Eugene needed and stepped out of the building again. After quickly webbing up the entrance so Eugene didn’t get hit by a stray bullet, he turned to face the men shooting each other. The air was hot with bullets whizzing by, and Peter quickly formed a web-shield to protect himself.
“Yoohoo! Can someone pleeaaase ‘splain to me whatsa’ goin’ ona’ hear?” Peter winced at the lame joke, but it was the quickest he could come up with at the moment. The man noticed Spider-Man and while still firing with his automatic at the car, he pulled out another semi-automatic from his jacket and started firing at the hero. Spidey let his shield take the hits and attempted to rush the man, but stopped as he noticed the man had stopped shooting at him.
The hit man aimed his gun at the window where he saw Eugene, leaning against the wall inside, unknowingly in the line of fire. Peter flipped himself sideways and threw his shield against the window. The shield landed with a soft splat against the glass, effectively covering it up. The man by this time was already moving away from Peter. He fired a few more bullets before stopping and running.
“But honey!” Spidey sputtered, “we were just getting started!”
Peter quickly glanced at the car that had pulled up and saw three men slumped over, bleeding everywhere. After checking their pulses, Peter shook his head.
Spider-Man angrily turned to the shooter and saw he was already stepping a car and speeding off. “Can’t get away from me, killer,” he muttered to himself while firing a web-line and swinging himself forward towards the car.
After a few seconds of swinging, Peter caught up to the car, but before he could swing down to land, the shooter leaned out the passenger window and started firing off rounds randomly into the streets. Peter quickly blurred to his right and then quickly back to his left, keeping the shooter from focusing directly on him. After a quick feint left, he swung down from the sky and landed on the car. The shooter had bit on the feint, losing focus. Peter tore off the top of the car and threw it away, glaring at the shooter.
“Stop the car!” Peter yelled at the driver, all business now. Instead the driver hit the breaks hard. Peter stumbled face forward into the backseat, his feet still clinging to the back, keeping him in the car. He looked up and saw the shooter aiming a bullet at his head.
“None of that now!” Peter quickly slammed his hand up, knocking the gun away from the hit man’s hand and causing the shooter to be knocked back. The man pulled out his other gun and pulled it up to aim it at Peter. The hit man hesitated for a moment, and then aimed it at the driver. He blew a bullet into the man’s chest, causing the driver to lose control. The car swung madly from left to right, until it slammed into a car in the lane next to them. The car immediately spun out and swung into a large light pole. Peter swung his arm to grab the steering wheel but the shooter hacked at Spider-Man arm. Peter ignored the hack, refusing to loosen his grip, but it momentarily kept him from taking control.
It was enough. The shooter looked up in front of him, horrified. He opened his door and quickly jumped out, his body rolling down the street. Peter looked up and saw they were in the wrong lane, headed for oncoming traffic. Peter quickly swung the wheel, knocking them back into the correct lane. It was too late.
“Great,” Peter moaned to himself sarcastically.
The car had lost control completely, went into the sidewalk, and straight into a building. The impact stunned Peter, but the hero gritted his teeth through the pain.
Peter groggily stepped out of the car, looking around. Bricks were crumbling onto the car, but Peter looked for the shooter. He saw the hit man staggering into an alley less than a block away. Spider-Man stepped forward to follow, but stopped, looking back at the driver, who was groaning in pain. He had to get the man to the hospital. The shooter was going to get away.
“Damnit…”
Felicia leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples in frustration. She was sitting at her desk in her private eye office, with numerous folders and papers strewn about. The private eye had been searching for a lead on the Hobgoblin for hours. She had pulled several strings, made several phone calls, but it was to no avail. The goblin had covered his tracks well. This time around the Hobgoblin, who had been avoiding discovery from the authorities and Peter himself for years, was taking his underground status to a whole new level. If he could hide himself for years before anyone discovered who he really was, it would be easy enough for him to hide his location.
What she had discovered though, was somewhat promising. All the men that had been targeted and killed were not only important figures in their various organizations. They all had some sort of link to the Maggia, Hammerhead’s circle. She was could hypothesize what their connection was, and why Hammerhead wanted them dead. If what Felicia had concluded about them was right, then she could predict who else was on the list. She had to contact Peter.
As immediately as she had thought it, her phone rang. Felicia paused, obviously creeping herself out. She smiled to herself, and picked up the phone.
“Felicia!” Peter’s tone was urgent, almost yelling.
“What’s wrong?” Felicia said, jumping straight to business.
“May’s with *huff* Glory, right?” Peter said, obviously in transit. He must have been moving fast to cause him to be breathing hard into the phone like that.
“Yeah, why? Where are you?”
“I need *huff* to take care of something!” Peter paused, and then continued, “I’m taking this *huff* guy to the hospital, *huff* he’s been shot. The shooter is stuck *huff*. Cops everywhere. *huff* You need to get over here quick. Weed him out, before he finds *huff* an escape!”
“I’ll be there in two minutes,” Felicia said and quickly got the location from Peter. She was out the window in fifteen seconds.
Felicia landed on a building and peered out from the shadows. She noticed the cops had arrived and cordoned off the area. They obviously knew that the shooter was still in the area as well, and were fanning out. They wanted him, wanted him bad.
In fact, from the reaction of the police, something bad had happened here. She looked to the right and saw a crowd gathering, several of them shouting expletives at the police who looked wary, trying to hold them back. More and more people were arriving by the moment, anger and sadness etched on every single one of their faces.
Still, Felicia had a job. She could think about what happened later. The man was still in the area. There was no way he had gotten away with all this commotion below. He was hiding somewhere, and Felicia was going –
Felicia’s head snapped around. She saw movement, on one of the buildings to her right. She bent her knees and sprung, her body moving fluidly through the air as of she was a silent cat moving towards its prey. The soles of her feet landed smoothly, her entire body coming forward smoothly and her body ended up in a crouching position, with her hands and feet all holding her up.
The Black Cat jerked right as she heard the soft swoosh of movement behind her. A knife went flying inches from her face and went clattering on the ground in front of her. She swiftly and glares at the man, calmly standing on the corner of the roof. He had a gun trained on the Cat, and both were frozen, waiting to see who made the first move.
“You might want to put that away,” the Black Cat said.
The man responded by firing immediately upon the lithe hero who easily ducked behind the small shack that led to the stairs of the building. The bullets nailed the brick, causing it to shatter. The Cat took one of the small pieces of debris and waited for the bullets to stop. She immediately came out of the shadows and saw the hit man loading a new clip into his gun. The Black Cat hurled the rock at the man, nailing him squarely between the eyes.
The hit man grunted in pain and dropped his gun. The next thing he saw after the blinding light cleared from his eyes was the Black Cat landing on him, knocking the air from his body. He landed with a thud, his arms held down by the Cat’s hands. She sat on him, in a straddling position, bent over, giving him a clear view of her cleavage. Her face was inches from his face.
Under normal circumstances, he would have been turned on. Unfortunately, these weren’t normal circumstances.
“Now see what happens when you don’t listen to mommy?” the Cat purred into his ear.
“Yeah,” the hit man grinned, “this!” The Cat’s eyes widened as the man flicked his wrist and a small knife came out into his palm. He quickly closed his hand around it and turned the fingers so that the knife dug into the Cat’s wrist, causing her to loosen her grip on the man. He immediately thrusted his hip upwards into the Cat, knocking her off of him.
The Cat flipped up, glancing at the wound. It was shallow, and she could continue to fight. When she looked at the hit man though, she saw her luck had run out. The man had a second gun trained on her, and he was smiling wildly. “Don’t even think it,” he said, noticing the Cat had begun to tense.
He started pulling the trigger, but a voice broke through, breaking his concentration, “Am I allowed to move?” Spider-Man nailed the gun man with both his feet. His feet slammed the man into the ground, hard, and Spider-Man easily sprung off the impact and somersaulted to land a few feet away, next to the Cat. Spider-Man quickly shot a web line at the gun and pulled it from the man’s grip and then glanced at the Cat.
“You had trouble with a lone gun man,” Spider-Man snickered, obviously just teasing her.
“Shut it, Spider,” the Cat muttered, crossly. She had been put in a bad mood. Already frustrated with the lack of information from her investigation, this seemingly simple hitman had given her a rough time. The Black Cat was rusty.
“So, you gonna surrender now?” Peter asked of the shooter, who had lost both his guns. The man looked wary, knowing he was stuck. “We clearly have the numbers here,” Peter added, unnecessarily. After weighing his options, the shooter started to raise his hand in surrender when Peter’s spider-sense flared up.
Without thinking, he instantaneously flipped himself out into the air and that’s when time went into slow motion. Peter watched as he floated in the air as the shock wave blast rocketed underneath him. When he had leapt into the air, he had left Felicia who did not have a sixth sense warning her of danger, exposed.
Peter watched as the blast ripped into her, causing him to curse himself for his carelessness. Felicia’s body slowly flew out over the edge of the building, causing Peter’s eyes to widen. As soon as he landed, time flew back to normal speed, and Spidey immediately leapt into action.
Peter had practiced this scenario multiple times in his head. He had had a rough experience with people falling over from high heights and trying to save them with his webbing. He hurled himself off the side of the building towards Felicia while shooting a webline up to the top of the building. Peter easily caught Felicia and as soon as the slack in the webbing evaporated, he let his arm take the shock of the sudden stop. Peter quickly climbed up the rope with Felicia hung limp over his shoulder.
As soon as he was on the roof, Peter set Felicia down and looked around. The shooter had gotten away, and there was no trace of where that blast had come from. Peter turned back to Felicia who groggily sitting up.
“Felicia, you okay?” Peter asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just a little dizzy.”
“We need to get you to a hospital.”
Felicia glared at Peter, “I said I was fine. You act like I’ve never been hit before.” She shrugged, “I’m a super-hero; it’s part of the job.”
“I’m sorry, Felicia. I shouldn’t have moved out of the way like that. I exposed you.”
“No, it wasn’t your fault,” Felicia responded angrily, “it was mine. I’ve been playing around too much. I was careless.”
“I…” Peter didn’t know what to say.
“I need to get serious. I can’t be part of this,” she paused and the spat out, “family.”
Peter sputtered, “Family? What? What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” she said as she walked over to the edge of the building, “and you might want to check up on why all those people down there are so upset before you go home.” With that, she fired a cable and swung off.
{{ Today, another innocent was slain during a very dramatic public shoot out that occurred earlier tonight. This time though, the outcry was greater than before, with concerned members of the community were demanding that the mayor to step in where they believe the police have failed and do something about this recent outpouring of violence. }}
{{ ‘Too many of our children have died!’ cried one concerned mother, protesting outside the police barriers where the shoot out occurred. Spider-Man was said to have been seen at the scene, when the ten year old boy, Eric Wilkins, was shot and killed. }}
{{ The boy had been only a few blocks from where the initial shootings occurred, but when Spider-Man gave chase to the hit man. The boy was caught in the crossfire. Wilkins was struck with two bullets, and was quickly rushed to the hospital, where he died after a severe loss of blood. Stay tuned. We’ll have more information as it comes in. }}
Peter stared at the screen quietly, unmoving. His eyes watered as he watched, frozen.
“Oh my god...”
TO BE CONTINUED...
And telling them what to do was exactly what he was doing at that moment.
“I understand, but what do you want me to do?” Tombstone asked as he stood at the wooden door, almost antsy. He wanted his orders. The quicker he took care of it, the quicker he got his money, after all.
“Listen. All my boys… hell, all your boys, are being done in right now, I know who’s behind it.”
“Kingpin?” Tombstone wondered. “He’s the only one that got enough to hire someone who’s been able to get so many of our men while staying underground.”
“If it’s the Kingpin, we’re not ready for that yet… No, I doubt it’s him. He’s got his own issues to take care of.”
“Then…?” Tombstone let the question hang.
“It’s got to be Hammerhead. Jimmy 6 doesn’t have the resources to pull of this kind of thing. I need to get rid of him,” the Hobgoblin paused, “the problem is, I don’t have time for this crap. I’m gonna deal with all these bastards trying to get back their turf.”
Tombstone nodded, “I’ll take care of it. You want me to get rid of Jimmy Six while I’m at it?”
“No, not yet. He still causes problems for the Kingpin. I need him. After this deal with Hammerhead goes down, I can deal with 'Six. He’s trying to survive, and he’ll be desperate for some kind of deal.”
Tombstone began to walk out of the room, but was stopped by his boss again, “and make sure it’s messy. The city’s been wanting something big.” The Hobgoblin nodded his head at the paper with its glowing headline, “I want to see something explode."
Smiling Stevens stepped into Hammerhead’s office without knocking. He noticed the side door close as he stepped in. Stevens frowned. Every time he was about to step into Hammerhead’s office, he heard voices. Whenever he actually walked in though, no one was there. Now he knew for certain that there was someone, but whoever it was, wanted to keep his identity discreet.
Stevens didn’t think anything of this, as it wasn’t any of his business. In his line of business, he knew not to ask questions. He just wanted to get paid, and get his work done.
Hammerhead looked up at Stevens, “What can I do for you?”
“I need more money,” Stevens said with authority. He didn’t demand it, nor did he ask. It was just his assurance that he would get it that gave him confidence.
Hammerhead noticed this, and it irritated him. Stevens was effective, effective enough that he would have to give him more money. A man like Stevens on his payroll was incredibly effective, and he couldn’t afford to lose an asset like him. “How much?” Hammerhead asked.
“Just a couple G’s,” Stevens responded, grinning. “Not too much.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Yeah no, you haven’t told me why you need it. We under a contract, so you don’t tell me why you need it, you don’t get no money.”
“Well, yeah, makes sense. A’ight, it’s like this. I got job offers coming at me out the wazoo (did I just say wazoo?). Anyways, I can either stay with you, or I can just get on the hell out of here and get paid more somewhere else. You’re choice, boss.”
Hammerhead sat quietly for a moment, thinking. It frustrated him that he needed this man. He had some skilled thugs under his employ, but no one was as good as Stevens. The man could rival Bullseye.
“Well?” Stevens wondered aloud.
“Fine,” Hammerhead sighed, his large head over exaggerated as he leaned it back in his chair, “just get rid of the people I told you to and you’ll get your money.”
“Good to hear,” Stevens proceeded to walk out the door, “I knew you’d see it my way.”
After stepping out of the room, the side door in the office opened again and another man stepped in. He wore a large coat shrouding his body, and a large hat which covered his face. The man obviously wanted to be prudent with his identity.
“Want me to watch him?”
“Yeah, I still worry about him. Eventually he’s going to run into a super.”
“You don’t think he’s good enough to take on a super?” the man inquired of Hammerhead.
“Hell no, he ain’t no Bullseye,” Hammerhead paused, “from what I’ve seen so far anyways. Just watch him. When he gets hit by a super, I want you to take care of it.”
“I have it under control,” the man said and stepped towards the door Stevens had walked through minutes ago.
“And try to keep yourself quite. I don’t need others in my employ asking about you.”
“I told you, it’s under control."
A young boy named ‘Eric’ sat on the steps in front of his apartment, looking up at the sky. It was starting to warm up and it felt good to sit out here. The city was looking better and better, and recently the streets were safer than they had been before. The local band of thugs had for whatever reason been messing around in their neighborhood less and less, which made it safer for Eric to do exactly what he was doing: sit around lazily on his front steps watching people walk by. He sighed, leaning back against the steps. His mom was due home any minute, and she’d probably get mad at him for sitting on the steps like this, but the ten year old boy didn’t care. He’d go inside in a minute.
“Agh,” Eric watched as the ball he had been bouncing idly hit the corner of a step and bounced into the street. He stood up and started walking towards it when he heard a thwipping sound.
“Huh?” Eric looked at his ball and saw it had been swung back to him by a line of webbing.
“Trust me kid, it starts getting really cliché saving people walking into the street and almost getting hit by a car.”
Eric beamed when he saw Spider-Man clinging to the wall above him. “Spidey! Holy crap!”
Spider-Man grinned under his mask, “I love you too kid.” He moved his arm up and flexed his fingers, firing a line of webbing onto the building above him and swung away.
Always love fans, Spider-Man thought to himself. He was trying to get a line on the Hobgoblin’s location, and so far had been unsuccessful. It was rumored that some of the Hobgoblin’s men were running around in this neighborhood, but he had yet to see signs of anything yet. The Black Cat had told him of where she had found the villain earlier, but those places were long since abandoned. The super hero had also checked out all of Kingsley’s old haunts, but most of those had been destroyed by Osborn when he had taken over Kingsley’s assets all those years ago. Anyways, it wouldn’t have made much sense for Kingsley to be hanging out at his old stomping grounds. He’d be stupid to go back to where he used to work from.
Spider-Man continued to swing from building to building, moving out of the neighborhood when he noticed a familiar face. He quickly fired a line of webbing with his right hand at the building his left hand had a webline attached to. After the webline connected, he rotated his body in a one eighty turn, with both weblines still clinging to the same building. He then fired another line of webbing to the next building with his left hand; thus effectively turning around completely without losing any speed. Spider-Man then somersaulted into the next building’s wall and looked down towards his friend standing by himself on street corner.
Eugene idly sat at the bus stop, most probably waiting for it so he could get home. Question was though, what was he doing in this neighborhood? Peter quickly, almost defensively assumed that Eugene was just trying to get his head clear. The poor guy had been through so much recently, and was still recovering. It was nice though, to see his friend out and about, getting some fresh air. He just sat in his apartment all day moping. Peter had tried talking to him several times, but Eugene refused to open up.
Then Peter felt a familiar tingling sensation and looked around. He focused his attention on the direction it was coming from and a man a few blocks down from Eugene, walking in his direction. He held a newspaper under his arm, and was smiling to himself, whistling. Peter frowned and tensed his muscles, ready for any sign of aggression. His spider-sense then started blazing and he heard the hum of an engine. He turned his head down in the opposite direction of the smiling man and saw a car slowly creeping towards Eugene. What the hell? Peter wondered to himself.
The car stopped next to Eugene, and Peter saw the driver roll down his window. The driver motioned for Eugene to approach him with his hand. Eugene looked around confused, and stood. He warily approached the car. Peter’s senses started blazing and he immediately leaped off the wall towards his friend. As he hurled himself through air across the street, he saw the man in his peripheral vision open his newspaper and pull out a hand-held semi-automatic.
“Oof!” As the gun cocked, Peter slammed into Eugene, knocking the air out of him. Peter continued to use his momentum and rammed himself into the door, knocking it down. Peter heard glass shatter as bullets flew into the car’s read windshield. Spinning, he knocked Eugene into the corridor. “Oh shit! Oh shit!” Eugene yelled, panicking. Peter knew the last thing Eugene needed and stepped out of the building again. After quickly webbing up the entrance so Eugene didn’t get hit by a stray bullet, he turned to face the men shooting each other. The air was hot with bullets whizzing by, and Peter quickly formed a web-shield to protect himself.
“Yoohoo! Can someone pleeaaase ‘splain to me whatsa’ goin’ ona’ hear?” Peter winced at the lame joke, but it was the quickest he could come up with at the moment. The man noticed Spider-Man and while still firing with his automatic at the car, he pulled out another semi-automatic from his jacket and started firing at the hero. Spidey let his shield take the hits and attempted to rush the man, but stopped as he noticed the man had stopped shooting at him.
The hit man aimed his gun at the window where he saw Eugene, leaning against the wall inside, unknowingly in the line of fire. Peter flipped himself sideways and threw his shield against the window. The shield landed with a soft splat against the glass, effectively covering it up. The man by this time was already moving away from Peter. He fired a few more bullets before stopping and running.
“But honey!” Spidey sputtered, “we were just getting started!”
Peter quickly glanced at the car that had pulled up and saw three men slumped over, bleeding everywhere. After checking their pulses, Peter shook his head.
Spider-Man angrily turned to the shooter and saw he was already stepping a car and speeding off. “Can’t get away from me, killer,” he muttered to himself while firing a web-line and swinging himself forward towards the car.
After a few seconds of swinging, Peter caught up to the car, but before he could swing down to land, the shooter leaned out the passenger window and started firing off rounds randomly into the streets. Peter quickly blurred to his right and then quickly back to his left, keeping the shooter from focusing directly on him. After a quick feint left, he swung down from the sky and landed on the car. The shooter had bit on the feint, losing focus. Peter tore off the top of the car and threw it away, glaring at the shooter.
“Stop the car!” Peter yelled at the driver, all business now. Instead the driver hit the breaks hard. Peter stumbled face forward into the backseat, his feet still clinging to the back, keeping him in the car. He looked up and saw the shooter aiming a bullet at his head.
“None of that now!” Peter quickly slammed his hand up, knocking the gun away from the hit man’s hand and causing the shooter to be knocked back. The man pulled out his other gun and pulled it up to aim it at Peter. The hit man hesitated for a moment, and then aimed it at the driver. He blew a bullet into the man’s chest, causing the driver to lose control. The car swung madly from left to right, until it slammed into a car in the lane next to them. The car immediately spun out and swung into a large light pole. Peter swung his arm to grab the steering wheel but the shooter hacked at Spider-Man arm. Peter ignored the hack, refusing to loosen his grip, but it momentarily kept him from taking control.
It was enough. The shooter looked up in front of him, horrified. He opened his door and quickly jumped out, his body rolling down the street. Peter looked up and saw they were in the wrong lane, headed for oncoming traffic. Peter quickly swung the wheel, knocking them back into the correct lane. It was too late.
“Great,” Peter moaned to himself sarcastically.
The car had lost control completely, went into the sidewalk, and straight into a building. The impact stunned Peter, but the hero gritted his teeth through the pain.
Peter groggily stepped out of the car, looking around. Bricks were crumbling onto the car, but Peter looked for the shooter. He saw the hit man staggering into an alley less than a block away. Spider-Man stepped forward to follow, but stopped, looking back at the driver, who was groaning in pain. He had to get the man to the hospital. The shooter was going to get away.
“Damnit…”
Felicia leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples in frustration. She was sitting at her desk in her private eye office, with numerous folders and papers strewn about. The private eye had been searching for a lead on the Hobgoblin for hours. She had pulled several strings, made several phone calls, but it was to no avail. The goblin had covered his tracks well. This time around the Hobgoblin, who had been avoiding discovery from the authorities and Peter himself for years, was taking his underground status to a whole new level. If he could hide himself for years before anyone discovered who he really was, it would be easy enough for him to hide his location.
What she had discovered though, was somewhat promising. All the men that had been targeted and killed were not only important figures in their various organizations. They all had some sort of link to the Maggia, Hammerhead’s circle. She was could hypothesize what their connection was, and why Hammerhead wanted them dead. If what Felicia had concluded about them was right, then she could predict who else was on the list. She had to contact Peter.
As immediately as she had thought it, her phone rang. Felicia paused, obviously creeping herself out. She smiled to herself, and picked up the phone.
“Felicia!” Peter’s tone was urgent, almost yelling.
“What’s wrong?” Felicia said, jumping straight to business.
“May’s with *huff* Glory, right?” Peter said, obviously in transit. He must have been moving fast to cause him to be breathing hard into the phone like that.
“Yeah, why? Where are you?”
“I need *huff* to take care of something!” Peter paused, and then continued, “I’m taking this *huff* guy to the hospital, *huff* he’s been shot. The shooter is stuck *huff*. Cops everywhere. *huff* You need to get over here quick. Weed him out, before he finds *huff* an escape!”
“I’ll be there in two minutes,” Felicia said and quickly got the location from Peter. She was out the window in fifteen seconds.
Felicia landed on a building and peered out from the shadows. She noticed the cops had arrived and cordoned off the area. They obviously knew that the shooter was still in the area as well, and were fanning out. They wanted him, wanted him bad.
In fact, from the reaction of the police, something bad had happened here. She looked to the right and saw a crowd gathering, several of them shouting expletives at the police who looked wary, trying to hold them back. More and more people were arriving by the moment, anger and sadness etched on every single one of their faces.
Still, Felicia had a job. She could think about what happened later. The man was still in the area. There was no way he had gotten away with all this commotion below. He was hiding somewhere, and Felicia was going –
Felicia’s head snapped around. She saw movement, on one of the buildings to her right. She bent her knees and sprung, her body moving fluidly through the air as of she was a silent cat moving towards its prey. The soles of her feet landed smoothly, her entire body coming forward smoothly and her body ended up in a crouching position, with her hands and feet all holding her up.
The Black Cat jerked right as she heard the soft swoosh of movement behind her. A knife went flying inches from her face and went clattering on the ground in front of her. She swiftly and glares at the man, calmly standing on the corner of the roof. He had a gun trained on the Cat, and both were frozen, waiting to see who made the first move.
“You might want to put that away,” the Black Cat said.
The man responded by firing immediately upon the lithe hero who easily ducked behind the small shack that led to the stairs of the building. The bullets nailed the brick, causing it to shatter. The Cat took one of the small pieces of debris and waited for the bullets to stop. She immediately came out of the shadows and saw the hit man loading a new clip into his gun. The Black Cat hurled the rock at the man, nailing him squarely between the eyes.
The hit man grunted in pain and dropped his gun. The next thing he saw after the blinding light cleared from his eyes was the Black Cat landing on him, knocking the air from his body. He landed with a thud, his arms held down by the Cat’s hands. She sat on him, in a straddling position, bent over, giving him a clear view of her cleavage. Her face was inches from his face.
Under normal circumstances, he would have been turned on. Unfortunately, these weren’t normal circumstances.
“Now see what happens when you don’t listen to mommy?” the Cat purred into his ear.
“Yeah,” the hit man grinned, “this!” The Cat’s eyes widened as the man flicked his wrist and a small knife came out into his palm. He quickly closed his hand around it and turned the fingers so that the knife dug into the Cat’s wrist, causing her to loosen her grip on the man. He immediately thrusted his hip upwards into the Cat, knocking her off of him.
The Cat flipped up, glancing at the wound. It was shallow, and she could continue to fight. When she looked at the hit man though, she saw her luck had run out. The man had a second gun trained on her, and he was smiling wildly. “Don’t even think it,” he said, noticing the Cat had begun to tense.
He started pulling the trigger, but a voice broke through, breaking his concentration, “Am I allowed to move?” Spider-Man nailed the gun man with both his feet. His feet slammed the man into the ground, hard, and Spider-Man easily sprung off the impact and somersaulted to land a few feet away, next to the Cat. Spider-Man quickly shot a web line at the gun and pulled it from the man’s grip and then glanced at the Cat.
“You had trouble with a lone gun man,” Spider-Man snickered, obviously just teasing her.
“Shut it, Spider,” the Cat muttered, crossly. She had been put in a bad mood. Already frustrated with the lack of information from her investigation, this seemingly simple hitman had given her a rough time. The Black Cat was rusty.
“So, you gonna surrender now?” Peter asked of the shooter, who had lost both his guns. The man looked wary, knowing he was stuck. “We clearly have the numbers here,” Peter added, unnecessarily. After weighing his options, the shooter started to raise his hand in surrender when Peter’s spider-sense flared up.
Without thinking, he instantaneously flipped himself out into the air and that’s when time went into slow motion. Peter watched as he floated in the air as the shock wave blast rocketed underneath him. When he had leapt into the air, he had left Felicia who did not have a sixth sense warning her of danger, exposed.
Peter watched as the blast ripped into her, causing him to curse himself for his carelessness. Felicia’s body slowly flew out over the edge of the building, causing Peter’s eyes to widen. As soon as he landed, time flew back to normal speed, and Spidey immediately leapt into action.
Peter had practiced this scenario multiple times in his head. He had had a rough experience with people falling over from high heights and trying to save them with his webbing. He hurled himself off the side of the building towards Felicia while shooting a webline up to the top of the building. Peter easily caught Felicia and as soon as the slack in the webbing evaporated, he let his arm take the shock of the sudden stop. Peter quickly climbed up the rope with Felicia hung limp over his shoulder.
As soon as he was on the roof, Peter set Felicia down and looked around. The shooter had gotten away, and there was no trace of where that blast had come from. Peter turned back to Felicia who groggily sitting up.
“Felicia, you okay?” Peter asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just a little dizzy.”
“We need to get you to a hospital.”
Felicia glared at Peter, “I said I was fine. You act like I’ve never been hit before.” She shrugged, “I’m a super-hero; it’s part of the job.”
“I’m sorry, Felicia. I shouldn’t have moved out of the way like that. I exposed you.”
“No, it wasn’t your fault,” Felicia responded angrily, “it was mine. I’ve been playing around too much. I was careless.”
“I…” Peter didn’t know what to say.
“I need to get serious. I can’t be part of this,” she paused and the spat out, “family.”
Peter sputtered, “Family? What? What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” she said as she walked over to the edge of the building, “and you might want to check up on why all those people down there are so upset before you go home.” With that, she fired a cable and swung off.
{{ Today, another innocent was slain during a very dramatic public shoot out that occurred earlier tonight. This time though, the outcry was greater than before, with concerned members of the community were demanding that the mayor to step in where they believe the police have failed and do something about this recent outpouring of violence. }}
{{ ‘Too many of our children have died!’ cried one concerned mother, protesting outside the police barriers where the shoot out occurred. Spider-Man was said to have been seen at the scene, when the ten year old boy, Eric Wilkins, was shot and killed. }}
{{ The boy had been only a few blocks from where the initial shootings occurred, but when Spider-Man gave chase to the hit man. The boy was caught in the crossfire. Wilkins was struck with two bullets, and was quickly rushed to the hospital, where he died after a severe loss of blood. Stay tuned. We’ll have more information as it comes in. }}
Peter stared at the screen quietly, unmoving. His eyes watered as he watched, frozen.
“Oh my god...”
TO BE CONTINUED...