Hello friends...chapters will be short and sweet for a little while. here is a quick view from the Merc. enjoy my lovelies, R&R :)
A brooding red and black figure tracked the nimble form of a familiar vigilante swinging towards the Avenger's tower. After scarcely escaping that hell hole with his limbs intact, well mostly, Deadpool decided to pull the heat from his target.
His rendezvous with "Wayne," aka the mysterious man who never showed his face and demanded Spiderman's flesh and bones was postponed. Deadpool dubbed him as such as he was kookier than a cowboy smoking tumbleweed. Even so, he was still the man who'd pay for the live Spider in a week's time.
Deadpool's real question was why the escapee was going back to the grimy hands of the Avengers. Didn't he just run out of there as if his life depended on it? Maybe the Spider just had a lack of self-preservation? Strange.
He pressed his back against the wall overlooking from a few streets past the tower. The Merc had learned a few things that day. Spiders were fast. Like really fast. This particular one had a nasty bite too. Hmph, though he was supposed to be friendly.
Logically, he knew the vigilante was dexterous, agile, whatever they wanted to call it. Yet the oh-so-dangerous mercenary over here still ended up webbed like a freaking burrito. The mercenary conveniently learned that the Avengers really, really hated Deadpool in general. Not that it was a surprise.
What he hadn't been expecting was the coordination of speed Spiderman portrayed. Thankfully, Deadpool always had a switchblade hidden in the most very unlikely of places. I'll leave that up for imagination. This had allowed him to free his arms, remove the remaining sticky flurry of webs, and escape the tower. It had been two days since the incident. Initially, he'd lost contact with Spiderman when he slipped into the vents, a space too small for the merc to follow.
Deadpool released a frustrated sigh as his masked orbs finished tracing the last sight of the red and blue figure who disappeared behind a luminescent maroon "A."
Tilting his head in perplexity, "What makes you so special little Spider?" the mercenary mumbled. "Guess we'll have to find out huh?" His soft chuckle disappeared into a smirk.
Waiting for his target to reappear was certainly a test of patience, then again, most of his marks were easy. If Spiderman popped back into his radar, he'd be ready.
Rather than chancing it again to the idiot Avengers who'd most likely get in his way, he would keep this simple: tranq and bank. Subdue to Spider, receive money for the job. Easy peasy, right? Then. Tacos for life. The merc grinned at the thought of how much income he was set to receive.
Granted, he was also curious as to why anyone would pay that much for little 'ol Spidey. Why was Spiderman worth so very much to Wayne?
He'd be set for a good while with the number of zeros Wayne's associates had promised. Of course, the man's back story was a tad vague, definitely sketchy, and slightly suspicious, but whose wasn't? Now it was up to Deadpool to find the virtue of patience while waiting to lay eyes on his vigilante again. The merc always finished his jobs. He narrowed his eye in anticipation of what was to come. Always. All he had to do was follow the web trail.