Author's Note: All properties are the rights of their respective owners, Marvel, Respawn Entertainment, etc.
Reminder that next week this story will be moved to the crossover section.
Blaze1992: This is a tricky one to explain, but Cooper has been very hesitant to share his combat equipment for the most part. However, learning that there are groups out there trying to replicate it prompted a rethink and that it might be best if it was people he trusted who had that equipment. Another part is that I don't want everyone to immediately become pilots, that would be boring and rob those who became Pilots of a potentially unique skillset and identity. I should also point out that, compared to what's coming, that wasn't a warzone.
It's been a while since I've had to say this, but there will be strong sexual content at the end of this chapter. I know the last one was somewhat underwhelming, so hopefully this one turned out a bit better, I think it did, but I'm a little out of practice for these so be sure to let me know yay or nay, or skip it when you get to it, I don't care. Also would like to know what you guys think of the time between those sections because I want to strike a good balance.
As for the song, this is another one off of the AC/DC album 'Flick of the Switch' that is not highly regarded. It sounds like a live album, but is a good listen for the groovy tracks like this one. I have referenced this song before (most notably in chapter 19), and I wanted to include it at some point since it fits Matthew Cooper as a character so well, at least in my eyes. Swaggering and badass in that old school way that just isn't around very much anymore with its in your face power chords and Brian Johnsons wailing vocals. Underrated album and even more underrated tune, give it a listen.
Power Without Question – Chapter 42: Badlands
I got a .45 that'll make you fry
Burn your chassis lassie like the 4th of July
I ride it hard I ride it high
Make love to you till you reach for the sky
I'm a man with a fast hand
Got it on a last stand
Outlaw, quick draw
Evil talkin' bandit man
In the badlands
Peering through a small set of binoculars, Frank watched a trio of beat up old Cadillac and Buick sedans with hideous wheels pull to a stop outside the school he was observing. The occupants got out of the cars and were as equally stereotypical as their rides. Pants that were around their thighs, leaving their underpants exposed, ill-fitting hoodies with gold chains hanging from their necks, and barely concealed Glocks, MAC-11s, and TEC-9s on their person.
The group made their way to the playground of all places and proceeded to try and wait inconspicuously, but the Marine judged it impossible for this group to accomplish that particular feat. Pursing his lips, he waited until a trio of large black SUVs arrived a few minutes later, this time pulling right onto the basketball court before coming to a stop. From these vehicles, men in tactical gear and purple shirts emerged. The total tally was now a full 12 hostiles, six from each faction, all armed with a sidearm or similar light weapon.
Lowering the binoculars, Castle scooped up his H&K 433 carbine and backed away from the window before heading downstairs to street level. While the big-name heroes had been busy with the Demons over the last few weeks, it was obvious that the small time would take advantage of the situation. While Frank wanted to go after the Inner Demons, upon learning that they were normal people under the control of a madman and forced to commit terrorist acts against their will, he had felt sick. He had no desire to kill people who had no control over their actions, so he had instead focused his efforts on these smaller time criminals.
With the news breaking that Martin Li had been apprehended a few days prior, he had been pushing himself to take advantage of the criminal element's complacency before they began being more discreet now that Mister Negative was no longer around to provide a smokescreen. Chances were that, after today, buys like the one he was moving to break up would no longer occur. Stepping out of the building and onto the sidewalk, he saw many of the pedestrians' eyes widen at the sight of his rifle and shotgun at his side as he casually took off his windbreaker to reveal the skull adorned ballistic vest beneath.
Holding his rifle in a relaxed fashion, the Punisher strode confidently across the street, traffic grinding to a halt at the sight of the heavily armed Marine marching across the Manhattan boulevard towards the obvious criminal activity. Though his advance had gone unnoticed by those making the deal, the massive SUVs obstructing their view of the street, enabling the Punisher to cross the street without being noticed by them.
But even the idiots making weapon and drug deals in broad daylight couldn't miss the commotion he left in his wake and he saw one of the thugs point his way and open his mouth to shout a warning. Before he could however, Frank raised his rifle and unleashed a burst of 5.56 rounds that pulverized the man's chest before he fell to the ground and the Punisher shifted his aim to one thug who was struggling to pull his weapon from his waistband. More of the green tipped armor piercing rounds sliced through the man's body as Castle pressed his frame into the side of the left most vehicle, gritting his teeth as the remaining eight men returned fire, peppering the vehicle with bullets.
Unfazed, the Marine pulled out a baseball sized fragmentation grenade from his belt and yanked the pin out before lazily tossing the M67 over the top of the car and into the crowd unloading on him from the other side. "Oh SHIT!" yelled out one before the muffled explosion drowned out the noise. Smoothly rounding the corner of the car and bringing the rifle up, the Punisher assessed the threats facing him and quickly placed the dot sight on the chest of a wounded Fisk shooter trying to bring his rifle up and put three rounds into him.
A blur of movement caught his attention as he brought the H&K to bear on the trio of running thugs and unleashed a long burst, catching one in the hail of fire before the bolt locked open, chamber smoking. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" roared a mountain of a man as he rushed headlong at Frank, unleashing an uppercut against the vigilante that knocked him flat on his ass. Just as the Devil Dog gathered his wits, the criminal was standing over him, fists raised high to deliver another crushing blow as the Punisher rolled to his right and drew his K-Bar before driving it into the man's knee. As he howled in pain and agony, the Punisher scampered back to his feet and caught his breath before charging back in.
The heavy lashed out, but his wounded knee was unable to support his girth and he staggered and hissed in pain. Seizing the opening, the Punisher sidestepped the wild punch and rammed the blade into his gut and upwards into the vital organs protected by his ribcage. With a roar of rage, Castle withdrew the knife before plunging it in again, slicing through the mans stomach and intestines before repeating the motion a third time, only now the blade plunged into his throat just above his collar bone, severing his windpipe before he fell to the concrete.
Quickly, he pulled out a trio of M14 thermite canisters and tossed one into the back of each SUV, taking a moment to appreciate the sight and smell of the burning drugs and weapons before he heard the sound of one of the sedans coming to life. Without hesitation, he reached around and readied the 'Super Shorty' pump action shotgun before taking off in a dead sprint to intercept the fleeing vehicle. Scaling a chain link fence to take the shortest possible route, he dropped down and rolled before coming up with the scattergun ready.
As soon as the gun was up, the lowrider lurched forwards as Frank pulled the trigger, the weapon bucking violently as 00 Buckshot smashed through the windscreen, turning the driver to mincemeat. While Castle worked the pump action, the car swerved violently out of control and crashed into a parked car on the opposite side of the street, steam rising from the crushed front end. The passenger door opened and another thug made to get out, only to get a chestfull of buckshot, followed up by the criminal in the seat behind him.
While their bodies lay sprawled out on the street, the final occupant of the car finally got out as Castle relinquished the empty shotgun and drew his sidearm, raising the M1911A1 and firing at the same time as his enemy fired his TEC-9. But while the 9mm round flew errantly off into the background, the .45 ACP slug slammed into the thug's face, blowing half his head off and painting the brick behind him with brain matter.
Looking around, the street seemed almost calm, deserted as civilians had run for cover as soon as shots were fired, the only real sound was the crackle of the burning vehicles behind him, but the smell of spent bullets and explosives hung heavy in the air as Frank felt his phone buzzed. Pulling it out, the screen displayed an alert that the NYPD was moving towards the area. With that system given to him courtesy of the Marauder, the Marine knew he had sixty seconds to escape and evade. Doing just that, he picked up the windbreaker he had discarded earlier before pulling it on and ducking into an alleyway, moving to Punish the next criminal that crossed his path.
After sleeping for 12 solid hours, Peter felt refreshed the day after taking down Martin Li and the good news only kept coming. He found a voicemail on his phone from MJ suggesting they get together sometime in the next week once she had gotten ahead of her work at the Bugle. Peter had let out a whoop at hearing those words, knowing that if MJ was reaching out to try and patch things up then he had a chance of getting back together with the redhead.
When he left the borrowed safehouse wearing his Advanced Suit, the feeling of the day being a new one permeated the air. There was hardly any crime as the life returned to the city that never slept, even the presence of Sable International did little to deter the happiness of the millions of inhabitants. Even with his lazy pace, Spider-Man wasn't interrupted on his way towards Octavius Industries, doing tricks for the pedestrians and drivers below.
When he arrived and changed into civilian attire, putting on his lab coat before swiping his key card and strolling into the laboratory. "Hello?" he called out, surprised to see both the Doctor and the set of prosthetics he had been working on were nowhere to be found. He hadn't been in as much as he would have liked, but every time he had shown up, he found the man hard at work on the arms.
"Parker!" greeted Otto happily as he emerged from his office wearing his favorite welding suit, though the way his strides were clipped and strained didn't escape the notice of the wallcrawler. The scientist picked up a pair of mugs and laughed happily. "Just in time to celebrate" announced Octavius as he made his way towards his protégé.
"Celebrate?" questioned Peter skeptically as he accepted the offered mug and pondered Otto's words. Furrowing his brow, Peter took one last look back to where the arms should have been before he realized what must have happened. "Wait, where are the arms?" he asked. In response, Otto stood straighter and slowly the yellow tipped claws of two of the hyper advanced prosthetics extended out from over his back. "So cool" breathed Peter as he took in the sight of the arms working as they had envisioned at the start of the project. "But how did you –-?"
"Intra cranial neural network" explained Otto, face lighting up as one of the arms shot forwards and plucked a bottle of liquor off of the table behind Parker. "Neuro-transmission speeds under one nanosecond" continued the Doctor as he opened the bottle with the other armed and deflty poured a shot into Peter's mug, "faster than signals travel inside the brain, and faster than the Marauder's helmet" bragged Otto as he poured himself a portion, "never mind an external prosthesis. We did it, Peter" said Octavius as the two clinked mugs and were all smiles, the revelations overwhelming to the Queens native. "No one can take this away from us…"
Peter just stared dumbly as his mind was still busy processing the sight his eyes were telling him he was seeing. "Amazing" he replied simply as Otto took a drink and beamed.
"And your work on the neural web was the key…" continued the older man as he walked across the lab, aided by the prosthetics that took some weight off of the man's weakening legs. The arms proved strong enough to fully support the Doctor and carry him some of the distance to the workstation where Otto had finished creating the web.
But Peter had some rather serious reservations as he thought back to that work his mentor was referencing. "But we haven't even tested it yet. There's so much we don't know…" he tried to argue.
Despite his objections, Octavius was undeterred as he set his mug down on the table and turned back to the younger scientist. "It works beautifully" he argued, "c'mon, take a look" he offered as he gestured towards a tablet on the table.
Taking him up on his offer, Peter took the tablet and began scrolling through the information and work Otto had done. "This is impressive" he admitted as he looked through the system and ran a diagnostic in the background. When an alert blinked red, he pulled up the details, "Hm, little error though" he said to himself as he scanned through the data. "Voltage spike" he read, "should be an easy fix" he said as he set about putting together a schematic to update the wiring to alleviate the issue. "See if that worked…No…this is worse than I thought" he realized as correcting that issue caused another error to appear. Otto had been uncharacteristically sloppy, and something was wrong. Rerouting the charge, it looked like it had been taken care of and Peter allowed himself to relax as he finalized the changes. "Hope that stabilized it…Damnit…the spike is cascading; I don't know if I can fix this…" he realized.
"Come on…" he begged as he updated the next element to the circuits of the network. Only instead of seeing the issue resolve, he saw that the voltage spike could have disastrous consequences. Seizures, memory loss, limbic degradation, and frontal lobe edema could result if the brain was exposed to the improperly wired intra cranial system for any length of time. "This is bad…Doctor" he called out worriedly, he didn't want the man to suffer because they had rushed on this project. Otto came out with his arms stomping with him, "uh, Doctor, I've found a potential problem…" began the webhead.
"Everything has problems if you look hard enough" replied Otto dismissively. "But fortune favors the bold" he asserted as two more arms emerged and extended over his shoulders and planted on the ground before all four lifted Otto up. "It's time to show the world what we've done!" he declared proudly.
"Otto" begged Peter, not taking any pleasure in bringing the man back down to earth. "The motor network isn't isolating your motor neurons" he revealed. "It could be affecting other parts of your brain: your inhibitions, your mood…I just think we need to do some more testing" he reasoned.
But one of the yellow clawed arms came up before slamming back down right next to Peter, causing him to flinch back in shock, his Spider-Sense screaming at him to do so. "We've done enough testing!" roared Otto. "For the first time in my life…I don't feel like a failure. I feel like me!"
Peter continued to back up from his mentor as he hoped he would be able to reason with him…and that it wasn't already too late. "Otto you're not a failure" he argued, holding his hands up placatingly, "but this could permanently damage your mind. Please" he begged.
Otto paused, his face relaxing as he nodded slowly, "right" he agreed calmly as the arms began to collapse and he was lowered back to the ground, "right." Slowly, Octavius reached up and removed a chip from the base of his skull with his hand, thought clearly the effort was strained.
"Don't worry" assured Peter as he approached the older man and placed a reassuring hand on his arm, "we're close."
"I'll keep at it" promised Otto, though he could see that the man was struggling and emotional. It hurt Peter to see him like this, but he knew that when it was finished then they truly would change the world, but they had to do it the right way. "Work out some bugs…go, go."
"You sure you're okay?" asked Parker, concerned that his boss was reaching the end of his rope.
Octavius nodded and gave a small but genuine smile. "Yes." Content, the webslinger offered a consolatory smile before turning to head out. "Thank you, Peter," called Otto suddenly, causing the protégé to turn back, "for everything."
Peter headed out slowly, the only appreciable sound in the room was from the news on the television. "We now take you live to Grand Central Terminal where Mayor Osborn is about to address the media…"
"Martin Li is now behind bars. When I make a promise to this city, I keep it. The people of New York will soon make a decision that could change the course of this city forever. So, when you're casting your vote, remember what I've done. We're all safer now than we ever have ever been."
Peter was too far away to hear the Mayor's statement, or the sound of the chip going back into the port on Otto's skull as the arms came back to life. "LIAR!" screamed Doctor Octavius as the arm smashed the television, the destroyed electronic sparking as Otto narrowed his eyes, "you have no idea what you're in for…" he vowed.
"I want to congratulate you on a job well done" began Norman Osborn with what many would believe was a genuine smile plastered on his face. "You and your outfit exceeded my expectations" he complimented honestly. Indeed, things were starting to look up for the corporate executive, Martin Li was behind bars, the city was more or less still standing, and his approval ratings had seen a 14-point jump. Despite the slight dip his chances for reelection had taken following the bombing at City Hall, he was now well out in front in the polls. Once again, he turned to the head of Sable International, who maintained her composure in the face of the Mayor. "With that said, I would like to continue to contract your company to maintain its presence in the city for the next few weeks while the last of these 'Demons' are apprehended and the NYPD is ready to stand on its own again. I am willing to continue paying the same rate until your services are no longer required."
The Symkarian kept her placid expression, "that will be acceptable" returned the woman coolly, thoroughly unreadable as she did everything in her power to not betray her emotions to Osborn. She was doing a good job, but Norman could tell that there was something on the woman's mind, her eyes, blazing with intensity despite the calm setting, betrayed her. "But I want to be aware of all threats my company must prepare to face" she added after a short standoff.
"Of course, Ms. Sablinova" he replied with his most charming smile, "I'll personally see to it that all relevant information is relayed to you in a timely manner." There was a brief flicker of contempt on the mercenary's features before they settled back to their stoic default and she gave Osborn a curt 'see that you do' nod before going still once again. "That'll be all, you're dismissed."
Without another word, Silver Sable spun on her heel and strode out of his office with a small flourish from her code, her boots clacking on the tile as the door closed behind her, leaving Norman alone in his office. Sighing tiredly, the Widower sat in his chair and retrieved a bottle of scotch from his desk drawer and poured himself a glass of the liquor as he leaned back and downed the spirit before rubbing his face.
Even with Li now in the RAFT, there were still several loose ends out on the streets. The list of individuals that knew of his involvement in developing 'Devil's Breath' was only growing and if word of that got out then he could kiss all of his ambitions, everything he had spent years working towards, goodbye. He looked at his computer to see a news report of the high flying battle between the Marauder and the mercenaries he had hired to carry out a hit on the Police Captain that was his contact within the force. After the break in at Oscorp was traced to Spider-Man, Osborn had concluded that the Marauder knew about the origins of GR-27 considering the two of them still being relatively close.
From there it was too likely that the Pilot had relayed this information to his Police contact, hoping that Law Enforcement would investigate his company. Such an investigation, or even the allegations, was too risky, any such actions had to be snuffed out before they could materialize. Perhaps his response was a tad extreme, but every other more reasonable alternative had been considered and dismissed, with him taking extra steps to ensure the success of the hit.
Still, with Sable International's mercenaries remaining in the city there would be plenty of manpower available for him to utilize for another attempt at trimming the loose ends remaining from this debacle.
After everything that he had done, there was still so much work left he had to do, and at the end the risks he took would be vindicated.
With a soft 'ping' the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to reveal the familiar layout of the Daily Bugle office as a redheaded reporter stepped out and onto the floor, inhaling the familiar smell of bad coffee and microwave meals. After Robbie had ordered her to take yesterday off following her run in with the Inner Demons at GCT, Mary Jane had returned to work with the goal of starting to compile everything she had about the rise of Martin Li and the Demons into a comprehensive account of the events that had rocked the city unlike anything in the last 15 years.
"MJ!" greeted Gloria Grant happily as the bubbly woman approached and the redhead found herself pressed in a tight hug from her friend, "I heard what happened at GCT. Are you alright?" asked the webmaster excitedly, her ever chipper voice carrying across the offices.
"Shh!" hissed MJ quickly, not wanting her presence here to be noticed just yet. Quickly putting her head down, the reporter made for her desk in the sea of cubicles with the African American woman in tow. Soon arriving at her workspace, Watson sat in her chair and pulled out her laptop before turning back to her friend. "You want to know what it was like? It was loud and it was terrifying, so many bullets, any one of them can kill you" she said. While she hadn't been afraid at the time, now that the adrenaline was gone from her system?
The gravity of exactly what she had done had begun to set in, she had run through the middle of a firefight to disarm a weapon of mass destruction while said firefight had continued around her. She had come face to face with a terrorist who killed half a dozen people in front of her and come out without so much as a scratch. But unlike all of her other crazy runs into Tombstone's shop or the Sable Camp, this one had stuck with her, she could see the faces of the dead in her sleep, and for once she was in no rush to try and seek out a new story.
"Wait a minute" said Glory in realization as she tapped her chin thoughtfully, "didn't Robbie give you the rest of the week off? What are you doing here?" asked the woman curiously, all the while Mary Jane very poignantly avoided eye contact with her coworker. She couldn't stay in her apartment any longer, feeling trapped by the memories that roared back every moment she remained idle.
The implications troubled her, and she was determined to not let her experiences consume her, instead resolving to throw herself back into her work. This story could very well be her ticket to the promotion she had been pining after for the last two months. "I'm fine Glory" returned MJ with a small huff of exasperation, "just wanted to get back to work is all" she assured. She went about booting up her computer and pulling out her notes from her bag and set them on her desk.
Looking back, it was clear the woman was unconvinced as she crossed her arms and leaned against the entrance of the cubicle. "Are you sure you're alright MJ? Everyone here's worried about you" informed Gloria, though it was clear she wasn't nearly as relaxed as she was trying to seem. Mary Jane frowned as she tried to formulate her response, but she never got a chance.
"Watson? What are you doing here?" asked Robbie Robertson, the white haired African American man in his late fifties always projected an aura of calm and reason, hearing the inflection in his baritone voice was enough to surprise MJ. "Go home, the work will still be here next week, I won't be offloading the story to anyone other than the one reporter I have who was at both City Hall and GCT" he assured calmly. MJ frowned as her boss stared down at her, face equally understanding and unyielding against any potential arguments.
"Please" she said quietly, almost begging, "I need this Robbie" admitted the redhead.
Robertson looked at her sympathetically, "give us a minute Ms. Grant" he said softly, but with the weight of an orders as he crouched down to be at eye level with the reporter. "Mary Jane, trust me when I say that I can see you're not you. The events you saw are hanging like an albatross around your neck" he stated coolly, the younger woman not attempting to deny the allegation. "You think that this will absolve you like you're guilty of something."
"Mary Jane, the only people who should bear any guilt are those who committed the acts" he asserted firmly. "You are guilty of nothing, that guilt is a reaction, it means you haven't come to terms with what's happened yet. That's why I want you to take some time off so you can decompress and accept that you had nothing to do with what you went through. Alright?" he asked.
Letting out a shaky breath, Mary Jane managed a nod before she saw another shadow and looked up, eyes going wide at the unkempt head of brown hair and alert pair of similarly colored eyes that was staring back at her. Robbie noticed that something else had her attention and turned, his serious and somewhat somber expression lightening up at seeing who had arrived. "Peter!" he greeted brightly as he slowly stood back to his impressive 6-foot 4-inch height and extended his hand. "You look well son, what brings you here?"
As MJ expected, Peter Parker was as smooth as ever, "Oh, uh, you know" he began as the redhead suppressed a snicker and settled on a small and amused smile at his verbal stumbling. "Just got off work early and was going to see if MJ would like to join me for a cup of coffee" he managed awkwardly, though he added one of the smiles that Mary Jane found so adorable at the end.
Robbie lit up and chortled lightly at the admission, "well I won't get in your way any longer. And try and convince her to do something better with her time off than just work" he added before striding off confidently. MJ shook her head as Peter stood there awkwardly, though she couldn't keep the amused smile off her face as a blush worked its way up Peters neck.
"I was serious about the coffee" he said suddenly, trying to stand confidently in his ruffled button down and jeans that she knew hid his costume beneath. "Come on, let's go to that Starbucks down the street" he offered as he boldly stepped closer, "I'll help with your things."
Something was off, but before Mary Jane could place it, pride stormed in and took control of her mouth, "no thanks Pete, I got it" she answered as she quickly as she stuffed her folders and laptop back into her bag and quickly shut down the desktop. She didn't fail to notice her 'partner' fidgeting behind her as she zipped up the bag and slung it over her shoulder as she stood and flashed him a smile. "Coffee you said? Sounds good, let's go" she said casually as she pushed past him and backtracked towards the elevator.
Peter followed her, though he still seemed to be acting cagey until the doors closed and they began to descend. "Alright Peter, spit it out" she said tersely as she turned to the superhero, who stood there dumbly. "You hate Starbucks, that's why our first date was the Coffee Bean" she reminded as he deflated under her gaze, she just needed to prod a little bit more. "So, what's really going on?"
The Queens native sighed deeply, "I got a call from Matt, he went up against a group of mercenaries today. They were going to assassinate Yuri because of what she knew about Devil's Breath" he revealed lowly. MJ stared at him, wide eyed and in shock as she absorbed the news and Peter continued. "He called me, told me to come get you, apparently the guys that went after Yuri were a serious outfit" he continued. The way his voice changed wasn't missed by the reporter, shifting from the anxious Peter Parker to the cool and confident Spider-Man, his tone calming and hardening with every word. "I know you can take care of yourself but let me get you back to your apartment at least, for my sake" he finished lowly.
She never could resist him when he got that look in his eye and nodded absentmindedly, "so I guess I'm not getting coffee?" she joked to try and take her mind off of things, the quip eliciting a smile from the wallcrawler.
"I uh…" he began hesitantly, "I could stick around, cook some lunch, you know, if you'd like" he offered. When she turned her head back towards him, tilting it inquisitively as she took in his face, though he quickly shrunk back down and turned away. "Or not" he muttered lowly.
Instead of offering an immediate response, she smiled ever so slightly and sought out his hand, taking it in hers and giving it a affirmative squeeze as his head snapped back to look at her as she smiled brightly. "Yeah" she said as the elevator slowed to a stop, "I'd like that" she confirmed as the door opened and the two made their way through the lobby and out onto the street, hands reflexively separating as soon as the doors opened.
The blocks disappeared quickly, forgotten in the idle chatter the two shared as MJ proceeded on autopilot back to her apartment. All of her worries, memories, and stress seemed to evaporate by the time they made the trek through the Big Apple and entered her building. With her apartment almost in sight, Mary Jane's mind going back to an offer made. "So what are you planning on making? Not dumplings I hope" she teased with a small grin as she fished her keys from her purse and ambled up to the door.
Before he could quip in return, she stuck her key in the lock and turned it, only to find the door unlocked as she turned and shot him a look. Seemingly understanding the implications as he closed his mouth and cut off whatever response he was preparing. Pushing the door open silently, she took a step back as Peter glided out in front and made his way inside her apartment cautiously. Watching from the doorway, Mary Jane held her breath subconsciously as she watched Peter make his way through the entry way and into the living room, relaxing for a split second and turn back to her before he suddenly dove forwards and a burst of suppressed automatic gunfire tore through her apartment, ripping through the space Peter had just filled before slamming into the wall. "PETER!" she cried out as she began to run forwards.
Only as soon as she had crossed the threshold into the apartment, a figure in all black rounded the corner into the entry way, submachine gun in his hands as his balaclava covered face locked onto the reporter and he raised his gun. Mary Jane froze where she stood, but Peter did not, with an acrobatic move that only Spider-Man could pull off, his foot shot up and kicked the gun away just as the hitman fired again, sending bullets into the ceiling. Flipping up to his feet and ripping the weapon away in one impossibly fluid move before the two men began struggling.
If she didn't know any better, than she would have been afraid for Peter, the hitman was taller and heavier, grunting in exertion as the pair grappled and slammed into the walls in an attempt to gain the upper hand. Despite her mind screaming at her to do something, the redhead remained planted to her spot, entranced by their deadly dance until her eyes focused on a new flicker of movement behind the two men. Another black clad man holding a pistol stepped out and raised the weapon, trying to draw a bead on her as she finally reacted, screaming as she ducked and pressed herself into the wall.
Peter heard her screams and seemingly flipped a switch, snarling in rage as he unleashed some of his super strength to pick the hit man up and drive him backwards, ramming him into his companion and knocking the second off balance. Not slowing in the least, Peter slammed the one in his grasp down into her coffee table, turning it to splinters before rounding on the second who had a gleaming knife in his hands as he squared up to the Lab Tech. Undaunted, the Webslinger leapt at him, one hand effortlessly catching the wrist of the arm with the blade in it as it was swung at him while the other hand grabbed the hired gun and shoved him into the wall, leaving a human shaped imprint behind. While the killer for hire tried to regain his bearings the hand at his collar went to his head and slammed it back into the wall, knocking him out cold as he slumped to the floor.
A groan from the center of the room drew her eyes back to the first black clad man as he crawled to the dropped pistol and wrapped his hand around it only for Peter to slam his shoe down on it, causing him to cry out in pain as he rolled onto his back. Face still twisted with rage, the shy nerd from Midtown dropped down, pinning the man with a knee across his chest as a punch slammed into his face, sending a tooth skidding across the floor before a second slammed into his nose, breaking it with a crunch before another slammed down, and another, and another…
Finally shaking herself from her shocked stupor, Mary Jane shot to her feet, "Peter! Peter stop!" she cried out as she wrapped her arms around him and tried to pull him off from the bloodied assassin, "I'm okay, it's over." As suddenly as it started, it ended, Peter holding his hand still as he let out a shaky breath and looked down at the battered face of the man beneath him before slowly looking around the ruined apartment and then to his bloody hands, still trembling as the adrenaline flowed through his system.
Shakily, Peter got back to his feet, "are you alright MJ?" he asked distantly as she nodded in reply. "I uh, I'd better call the police" mumbled the Webhead numbly as he fished his phone out of his pocket and began kicking the weapons away from the dispatched hit men.
Mary Jane meanwhile pulled out her phone as well and hit a number on speed dial before noticing the questioning look Peter had on his face. "Figured I'd order us a Pizza. I can't have you have you save my life and cook lunch," she explained before adding, "that'd just be rude."
Matthew Cooper was rapidly coming to the conclusion that the definition of 'Heaven' was variable. After weeks of fighting, stress running high with domestic terrorists threatening the city, and some of the craziest shit he had done since Typhon, Heaven was dinner with his girlfriend at a four star restaurant and now finding themselves on his couch in front of a big TV, classic film playing and a bottle of wine Felicia had gotten from god knows where opened in front of them. The Platinum blonde, now in a thin tank top and workout shorts instead of the dress from earlier, was sprawled out on the sofa, back against an armrest as her toned legs rested on his lap.
For his part, Cooper had his glass of wine in one hand as he absentmindedly ran his other along her legs and feet, giving her a foot rub as they watched 'Heat' play out. As Robert De Niro, Val Kilmer, and company made their getaway from the armored car heist, Matt noticed Felicia giving him an odd look from the corner of his eye. "What?" he asked wryly.
"Just surprised that this is how the 'Marauder of Manhattan' would celebrate taking down Martin Li is all" returned the heiress as Matthew couldn't help but chuckle. No, most would probably not imagine the SRS Commando enjoying something mundane as sitting on a couch, but he had come to appreciate these quieter moments more and more.
"Believe it or not darlin,'" he drawled, "I do actually want to go at least one night without shooting someone. One night, that's all I ask" he added with feigned exasperation, drawing a small smile from the Thief. Sighing a bit and finishing the last of his wine as the crew put their scheme into motion to rob the bank on screen, he sat back tiredly on the couch. "Though I am actually looking forward to moving on from a superpowered madman with an army of mind-controlled followers and back to more normal things. Things like a really hardheaded mob boss" he mused sarcastically, getting a small laugh from Felicia.
Finishing her own glass, the heiress turned herself around and snuggled up against him, easily molding her lithe body into his larger frame as the movie continued. The two of them doing as they normally would and commenting about what the movie got right or, as was more often the case, what it got wrong. All the while Felicia idly ran her finger along Matt's chest while he found himself massaging her shoulders, the stress slowly but surely fading. But as the movie got closer to the final confrontation between DeNiro and Pacino, Felicia said something that knocked Matthew from the tranquil moment. "Do you think that we should have killed Li when we had the chance?"
He was taken aback for a second, almost answering that he didn't before stopping himself and thinking about it. "I'm not sure" he finally admitted truthfully, the words tasting sour on his tongue, "he was just another madman, only more powerful." He shrugged a bit, not really sure what she was looking for, "why do you ask?"
Felicia bit her lip a bit before answering, "what he did…corrupting people, City Hall, the murders, drugs, gunrunning, bombing, all of it, was sending Spider after him really the best idea?" she asked seriously. He could hear the question in the undertones of her voice, and to be honest the question had been cropping up in his own thoughts from time to time.
"If you're asking if Li deserved to die, then the answer is yes" he answered firmly, "a bullet between the eyes would have been a mercy after all the suffering he's caused, but I…deserves got nothing to do with it" he said lowly.
"Deserves got nothing to do with it" she repeated quietly, "I always thought I understood that, a badass way of saying that you just killed people that got in your way, but that isn't it, is it?" she asked, to which he shook his head slowly.
He was not a moral or righteous man and didn't want to think of himself as a judge or jury, so he didn't. "It means that there isn't really a reason for who lives and who dies in a shootout, at least not anything beyond simple reactions and instinct" he explained lowly. Li didn't live because of a belief it was wrong to kill people, the reality was a lot simpler. "I let Spidey go after him because he was in the best position to make a move on Li and has the most experience with enhanced opponents. That's all there is to it" he assured. It was the truth to, as cold as it was, life or death situations had a way of streamlining ones thought process.
Felicia was silent for a moment as she mulled over his reasoning, her expression unreadable with the dim glow of the television. "Is that what it was like?" she asked suddenly as he furrowed his brow, "back on Typhon? Just snap decision after snap decision? Every single one life or death?" she elaborated.
"Pretty much" he answered succinctly, shifting uncomfortably at the transition in topic, his first experience as a Pilot was something he rarely talked about, even with her. "It all just happened so fast, I never had the chance to get settled in, so I was living moment to moment" he answered, though he was being unintentionally evasive, his mind automatically swerving to avoid those memories.
"And you just made it through how?" she asked, "fate? Skill? Luck?"
"Well, I am dating you" he supposed, "so I'm a pretty lucky guy" he returned, trying to shift the conversation away from Typhon and onto more pleasant topics without trying to be subtle about it.
To his immense relief, Felicia seemed to understand his discomfort as she leaned right up next to his ear and whispered "you have no idea just how lucky you are stud" into it huskily, her hot breath sending bolts of electricity down his spine as he nearly shuddered at the words. With a wicked smile, Felicia scooched over and settled down on his lap, grinding her firm ass into his quickly hardening manhood. He wrapped his arms around her taut stomach and pulled her close as the couple finished the rest of the film. Matthew rested his chin on her shoulder, one hand stroking her hair as the other teased her over her clothes, rubbing her breasts enough to easily tell she wore nothing below her thin tank top and petting her core to feel the heat emanating from it before he began to trail kisses down her neck and suckling on her sensitive spot to draw a gasp from her.
But the Black Cat was more adept at teasing than being teased. While Cooper had his hands, the platinum blonde vixen had her whole body, her whole magnificent body, and she knew how to use it to drive him crazy. Reaching back, she grabbed hold of him to steady herself as she went to work with her hips, giving him a lapdance that only served to make his pants more restrictive. Even the moans and gasps he managed to coax out of her contributed to the arousal he felt continue to grow. Soon, he was rock hard, his cock digging into her ass and inciting her to pick up the pace until neither was paying much attention to the film as it came to an end.
The credits beginning to roll was the point that they both finally gave up merely teasing one another. Cooper sought out the bottom of her top and began to pull it up before Felicia finished it off, cleanly removing it to reveal her naked body, illuminated only by the light of the TV as she spun around. Instantly, his eyes were drawn to her beautifully bare breasts, the perky orbs of immaculate pale flesh demanding he caress, knead, or suck on them as they bounced before him. But before he could satisfy those desires, Felicia sought out his mouth with hers, their lips locking as tongues dueled for control while her hands went to work removing his shirt. Separating from him, both panting wantonly, Matthew found himself barechested in an instant before their liplock resumed. Despite tasting the sweet wine she still had on her lips and feeling her erect nipples pressed into his scarred pecs, Matthew wanted more. Trailing his hands down, he pulled down her shorts and smirked at the surprise that greeted him. "No panties" he observed, his voice a low, almost guttural grunt, "naughty girl."
"Your naughty girl" whispered back the temptress seductively, trailing her hands over his bare torso as he worked the shorts down until they too were tossed aside, leaving Felicia straddling him in all her naked glory as she grinned wickedly. Delicate hands and piercing emerald eyes roamed over his scarred and muscled chest, down to his abs and further still to the massive bulge under her dripping slit. Licking her lips, the vixen leaned in and whispered "and you are my chiseled stud." The lust and need in her words sent electricity down his spine as his erection twitched and the Texan latched his mouth onto the closest breast, marking it as his own as Felicia whimpered wantonly. Finally, as Matthew switched to her other breast, his tongue lavishing her tit as he spanked her firm buttocks, causing her to order "bedroom." Her tone was commanding as it was pleading.
But it was a command Cooper didn't object to as he easily stood up despite her weight, one python like arm wrapped around the lithe body of the sexy theif as she in turn locked her legs around his waist. Doing that caused Matthew to feel the juices from her pussy on his bare skin, adding to the lust fueled haze that coulded his mind as he used his free hand and what little light the TV gave off to navigate the room. Guiding himself along the wall as Felicia nibbled and suckled on his ear before working her way down his neck while her nails scratched at his back, marking him as her own while he hurridly threw the door open. Stumbling inside, he turned to close the door, but doing so only caused Felica to kiss him heatedly once more, moaning into his mouth as she leaned into him.
Taken by surprise, Cooper staggered backwards under her erotic assault until he felt the back of his legs against the bed and tumbled, sprawling out across the mattress as Felicia pounced like a predator, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down before tossing them into some corner of the room to be forgotten.
It wasn't as if he needed further incentive for his erection to extend to its full length, but Hardy was going to give him some regardless as she place da knee on either side of his hips and bent hover, erect nipples grazing his chest as she planted a trail of kisses up his pecs to his neck and then his ears as he felt himself slowly unravel. His manhood throbbed as he ran his own hands down her back and over the delicious curve of her buttocks, giving one a small spank and savoring the yelp and moan that came from her mouth as a result. His other hand trailed down her thigh until it went to the inside of her toned leg and back up until his fingers trailed over her cleanly shaven nether lips.
Smirking as her breath hitched, he delicately began to stroke her most sensitive area while she continued to keep up her assault with her mouth, using her lips, tongue, and breath to maximum effect. In response, he upped his own ministrations, spreading her pussy and feeling her arousal drip out of her before he slowly inserted a finger and began to work it into her, feeling her whole body tremble at the intrusion. Soon, a second finger was worked in as both made a 'come hither' motion in the depths of her velvety tunnel. "Fuck baby, you're so wet" he whispered as his hand became slick with her juices. "Cum for me baby" he encouraged as he pressed his thumb down on the bead of her clitoris and she shuddered, panting and moaning erotically as she came from her pent-up arousal.
After a minute of heavy breathing, Felicia began to recover, back straight as her breasts hung deliciously with her nipples still hard as she slowly guided his hand out of her and brought it up to her face. Without hesitation she began licking her juices from his palm before slowly taking each finger in her mouth and sucking the juices from them as her eyes bore into him as if to say I know you like it when I do this. And he did, so very much as he watched her in an almost trance like state, other hand idly resting on her hip until she had finished. "I'd say I'm ready" she purred lightly before her other hand went down to wrap around his cock and give it a single firm stroke and a bit of precum trickled out, "and you're really ready" she continued as she lined herself up, the very tip of his manhood pressed against her slit as she gave him a wicked look.
With agonizing slowness, she worked her way down his shaft, slowly enveloping every inch with her smooth, tight walls until he was fully sheathed in her and she arched her back so that their stomachs were almost touching as she hovered over him, breasts hanging down as she gave a Cheshire grin. Unable to resist the temptation, he lifted his head and planted a kiss on each nipple, giving them a flick with his tongue before going to the other. Felicia whimpered as they held their position, savoring the sensations they were both experiencing before finally desiring more.
The platinum blonde vixen began to work her hips in a circular motion as she lifted them up and then worked them back down his erect manhood. Each stroke loosened her as she adjusted to his size, taking him deeper and deeper each time, every inch he plunged further into her offered a new height of pleasure. After a few cycles, Cooper had a feel for the pattern and contributed a thrust, rolling his hips in rhythm with hers as she shrieked in pleasure. He kept his hands at the middle of her back as he grunted at the pleasure he was experiencing, desperately trying to delay his release as he felt his balls swell. "I missed riding this cock, this long, thick cock" whispered Felicia huskily, always stroking his ego in bed as she rode him ever closer to his inevitable release.
As she continued to work her hips in pursuit of her orgasm, the Texan trailed his hands down to grab two handfuls of her delightful ass, squeezing the firm cheeks as he continued to push deeper into her. "And I've missed this pussy," he grunted as he felt her squeeze around his manhood, "but you've kept it just how I like it, tight, warm, and wet." His words were in time with a powerful penetrating thrust that caused his cock to be buried to the hilt in her moist, velvety smooth cunt as she cried out in ecstasy.
Every thrust caused her tits to bounce up and down as she held onto him, fingers digging in as all of his senses were bombarded by the results of their activities. Eyes drank in her form, his fingers and cock felt the touch of her soft skin and moist core, his ears were drowning with his grunts of exertion and her cries of "faster! Faster!" as their skin slapped together to make that happen. The musky scent of their exertion filled his nose before he completed the set by pulling her head down and locking lips again, able to taste the distinctly tangy flavor that he recognized as coming from Felicia's delectable pussy, still on her lips and tongue.
Knowing the end was near, Matthew changed his approach and began to alternate between rapid thrusts and slow, sensual strokes. Every bout of pistoning drove their pleasure to new heights only for him to slow down and draw it out even further. He was rewarded with more cries and moans of pleasure as Felicia failed to form words, face twisted from her arousal as they continued their slow dance, each stroke and caress was gentle and carefully timed, synchronized according to their needs and desires. Their lovemaking soon approached its inevitable conclusion as Felicia took control once more and her hips soon came back down, guiding his hardened rod straight to her most sensitive spot, sending a spike of erotic pleasure through her body as she moaned wantonly. After hanging on the edge of release for several minutes, the Thief answered the calls of her body and made straight for her release, repeating that motion as the tip of Matts dick was pushed to the depths of her womanhood to get at that bundle of nerves at an ever increasing pace and with ever increasing need. "I'm cumming!" she announced elatedly as her whole sweat sheened body shook with her release.
As her tight moist walls clamped down on him, Cooper finally succumbed to his own urges as well, grunting as his manhood twitched and he released into her tight cunt, the sensation triggering another round of cries before their orgasms finally ran their course and she rolled off of him. Reaching over, Matthew pulled her close as she pressed into him and she became the little spoon and the Pilot pulled the comforter over them. Laying there, one arm wrapped around Felicia Hardy and cupping her breast as she pressed her tight bottom into his cock, still wet with her juices, Cooper realized he had found another form of his personal heaven.
Cooper's Logbook – Assault Rifle: V-47 Flatline
I hate this piece of shit.
An attempt to develop an indigenous rifle by the Militia with the same 'soldier focused' approach that yielded the legendary AK-47 in the mid-20th century somehow led to this veritable clusterfuck of a rifle. Probably because the designers forgot what made the AK such an excellent weapon: Simplicity. Just because they preserved the 7.62x39mm round and the curved magazines that came with it doesn't mean they preserved any simplicity found in the rest of the damn gun by bolting on a recoil mitigation system that only half works because the horizontal recoil is amplified as a result. Making it a bullpup, while it is shorter than the R-101, means the ergonomics fucking suck especially since they didn't think things through. Case in point, the mag release is ambidextrous, but was left unprotected. So, when you carry the gun in its extended position but down against your chest it is very easy to accidently drop the mag. Meaning this would inevitably happen just before a firefight and you would raise the gun to find you only had one bullet on tap. If you were lucky this resulted in some cursing and a reload, if you weren't then you got your head blown off.
Some moronic jackass from the committee that designed the damned thing of course replied 'well that's why you're supposed to carry it in the collapsed position' to which every soldier laughed because what's the point of carrying a gun if you can't have it ready to shoot back at the enemy?
That's why anyone worth their salt still carries a Carbine, SOAR, Hemlock, G2, or even a slingshot instead of this flaming dog turd of a weapon. That wasn't even the end of it, the weapon tried to cut down on weight by using a variation of the venerable long stroke gas piston with modern materials. Except those materials proved unreliable and you had to change out the piston after about 1200 rounds or it would snap, and the rifle would fail to function. This was on top of flimsy magazines often sweetened with faulty springs, poor build quality so dust and mud had a tendency to foul up the gun easily, and that…awesome…recoil system would often siphon off too much gas from the piston so you got constant failure to feed jams.
Eventually, the Militia did what they always should have done and gave the gun to a proper weapons maker to design and build it. Wonyeon Defense were the lucky winners of this shit sundae and promptly went to work. By the time they were done they had either replaced or redesigned the bolt, gas piston, gas block, the front trunnion, the hammer, every single spring, all of the pins, the magazine release, and the furniture, and the charging handle, and probably some other stuff that I'm forgetting.
The end result of them keeping the receivers as an empty shell and replacing just about everything inside was the gun actually working (except for that godawful recoil pattern) and it continues to serve on the Frontier. Still, to many, including myself, the gun has a reputation that it will never overcome. Such an utter failure on so many fronts means that it will remain a punchline to many a joke.
Of course, that recoil pattern is a whole other kind of joke.
Closing Notes: That'll do it, for those of you that don't like MJ or her relationship with Peter I want to know if this little original bit is better, that, and hopefully I didn't have Peter go too far off the handle because that was something I felt might have taken a hair too far. Though I do know this is definitely a case of the 'you won't kill, but you're okay with traumatic brain injuries' scenario.
Also curious as to how much of the Punisher you guys want to see, he does play a part in the upcoming arc but beyond that is a bit of a toss up. Feedback here will play a large role in how much we see him in the last part of the game, either playing a major role or just doing his own thing in the background as is implied here.
And for any people who are familiar with the British army and their small arms, the story of the Flatline should sound familiar, that is all me making stuff up so I have something to point to when I get asked why he never uses the Flatline. I just made him hate it as much as I do. But the story takes heavy inspiration from the L85A1 which was, and I'm not exaggerating, the worst military rifle of the last half century. The A2 has shown itself to be a decent rifle, but the A1 will always be, in the words of Gun Jesus, "A huge scandal of plastic and metal."
But next week, I see earthquakes and lightning, I see bad times today, and I see a Bad Moon Rising.
Stay Frosty, Misfit Delta out.
