7
GROUP TEXT – Ned, MJ, Peter
Ned: Hey MJ we actually can't do the project rn don't come over
MJ: Why?
Ned: ...
Ned: ...
Ned: ...
Ned: ...
Ned: ...
Peter: May's really sick
Peter: And we don't want you to catch it
MJ: We? Ned's screwed too then?
Ned: ...
Ned: ...
Ned: No I left too
MJ: Too?
Ned: I mean I LEFT
Ned: The too was a typo
Ned: Peter's still there of course
Ned: With May
Ned: Because she's sick
Peter: Yep
MJ: Okay, men, chill
MJ: I'll just do the report.
Ned: :)
MJ: ...
MJ: But we're talking about it tomorrow at lunch
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The car ride was silent. Peter's heel drummed restlessly against the floor mats as he stared out the window. He was dressed entirely in the suit except for the mask, which he held loosely in his hands.
From the backseat, Ned leaned forward in his seat, straining against the seatbelt, and broke the silence to address Agent Hill. "Have you ever killed anyone?"
Peter twisted around in his seat. "Ned," he hissed.
"What? I thought I may as well ask," Ned said, but he had the decency to look embarrassed.
Peter looked back at Agent Hill. "How'd you find him? Silenzior?"
Before Hill could respond, something beeped in the car. Peter's eyes went to the front windshield, where a blueish-tinted graphic had popped up in the lower left-hand corner of the glass.
There was no ID attached to it, but Hill seemed to recognize the number. A frown formed between her eyebrows. "Go to secure line," she said aloud. She touched a finger to her earpiece as the car automatically transferred the call. "This is Hill. Go."
Peter looked at her. As usual, he could just barely hear a faint buzzing from the other end of the line, but he couldn't make out any words.
Hill's lips compressed. Shifting the car into a different gear, she lifted her foot off the gas and made a sharp U-turn.
"Agent Hill, what's – whoa!" Peter's hand smacked his window as he nearly slid sideways into his door. "What's going on?" Eyes wide, he watched her expertly navigate through traffic.
"Silenzior's on the move." She glanced in the rearview mirror. "We have a confirmed location at JFK."
"The airport?" Peter asked, frowning. "Why's he going there?"
Hill's response was short, blunt: "High body count."
Peter's heart sank. She was right. There were thousands of people there.
"JFK is huge," Ned said, echoing Peter's thoughts.
"It'd send a message," Hill said, raising her eyebrows. "He's looking for a bigger audience. Worldwide."
Peter looked out the car window, biting his lip.
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Hill pulled into a parking bay and turned off the car. "This is as close as we can get you."
Peter was already pulling on his mask. "Don't worry, I got it."
"We'll stay in contact with you," Hill said, tapping something on the car's screen. "Head for Terminal 4. The highest body count will be there." She glanced up at the building in front of them. "Should be a relatively straight shot there."
"Terminal 4. Got it," Peter repeated, looking at the building too.
"Be careful, Peter," Ned said from the back seat.
Peter pulled the mask on and got out of the car, slamming the door shut after him.
Silence filled the car.
Ned leaned forward. "Can I sit up front?"
Hill looked at him as if she had forgotten he was there.
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Peter entered the airport through an access hatch on the roof and, at Hill's guidance, made it down into a main hallway without meeting security. He now crept along the silent hallway, staying close to the wall.
Ned's voice suddenly came into Peter's ear, fast with excitement. "Peter, this car is insane! They have a personal live satellite feed, like, in the car."
Peter grinned to himself.
Hill spoke up, cutting Ned off. "Left here, Peter. You should be at the terminal now."
Peter turned the corner, and sure enough, there was a set of sliding glass doors just ahead of him. As he broke into a trot, the doors slid open, and he stepped out onto an elevated platform.
There was a lot of people here. Noise swelled up from the crowds in an almost tangible babble. A gentle robotic voice sounded overhead, echoing throughout the huge space, announcing arrivals and departures. Peter glanced quickly left and right, trying to take in the scope of the space. Fortunately, he could overlook nearly the whole terminal from here. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus.
"Peter," Karen's voice suddenly prompted him. His HUD highlighted a corner of his vision, and he looked up.
There was a man in the rafters of the ceiling. Peter hadn't noticed before, but white metal struts arced over the entire terminal, hanging just below the ceiling.
The man was pacing, carefully, back and forth, looking down on the crowds below.
Peter caught his breath. Okay. Nothing had happened yet. As quickly as he could, he webbed up onto the white structure as well and started swinging towards Silenzior.
He landed on a wide metal strut that was parallel to the one Silenzior stood on. The man was still turned away from him. "Miss your flight?" Peter asked, having to raise his voice over the din.
Silenzior turned sharply, as if Peter had surprised him. Once again, Peter faced that creepy mask; the sealed mouth, the deep black eye sockets.
"Spider-Man," Silenzior said.
"I thought you wanted the Avengers," Peter called over. "What're you doing here?"
"The Avengers were step one," Silenzior answered calmly. "We've moved on to step two."
Uh-oh. "What's step two?"
"It won't matter to you." Silenzior flexed his hands. "You're already too late."
"Too late? Nothing's happened yet," Peter said, but he suddenly realized that Silenzior was holding up a hand. That same black smoke swirled around his closed fist.
Without another word, Silenzior took a step backward and dropped off the strut.
Peter's eyes snapped open. "Whoa –!" In one move, he leapt forward onto the strut that Silenzior had been standing on and shot a web down at the falling man.
The web latched to Silenzior's chest, and the full weight pulled hard against Peter's arm. Grunting, he braced his feet wide on the strut, grabbing the web with his other hand for support.
"What – are you – doing?" he asked between grunts.
At the end of the web, Silenzior twisted around to look at Peter. His expression was unreadable through his solid mask.
Summing the black smoke into his hands, he fired a blast upwards.
"Gah!" Peter was forced to let go of the web as he scrambled backwards to avoid the blast. The black smoke just barely missed him and sailed up to the ceiling, where it sizzled into the metal roof.
Eyes wide, Peter twisted to look over the edge of the metal strut.
His webbing had caught Silenzior about halfway down, so the man had dropped the rest of the way safely. He was getting to his feet.
Peter blew a relieved breath out his cheeks and fired a web at the ceiling. Using it to rappel down to the ground, he landed just a few feet away from Silenzior.
Silenzior looked up. "You shouldn't have interfered," he said in his usual low murmur.
Peter still felt a little out of breath. "What, you wanted to die?"
What sounded like a chuckle came from Silenzior. "It takes a lot more than that to kill me."
Peter opened his mouth, then closed it. What had he been trying to do, then?
A second later, he had his answer, as Silenzior summoned the ashy smoke into his hand and fired it.
Peter dodged it easily, but then jumped as he heard someone scream behind him. Startled, he twisted around.
The blast had only decimated an ATM, but all of a sudden Peter noticed all the people that were standing behind it.
Suddenly, reality struck his gut. This was exactly what Silenzior was here for. This was getting dangerous. He gave a quick glance around, searching for a less densely populated area. That wasn't going to be easy – there were so many people here.
His gaze lifted.
There, above the crowds – another elevated terminal platform, but this one was under construction. Yellow plastic tape sectioned off the escalators on both sides from the rest of the airport, effectively blocking anyone going up or coming down.
It was elevated, and it was vacant. Perfect.
Peter fired two webs on the ground, leaned backwards against them, and slingshotted his body forward. He lunged for Silenzior feet-first, and his heels struck the man's chest hard.
As Silenzior fell backwards onto the floor, Peter grabbed him around the chest. "Yoink!" Hauling the man's weight up with one arm, Peter shot a web at the ceiling and pulled both of them up to the elevated platform.
They landed heavily – they had to be over three hundred pounds combined – and Peter rolled to take the brunt of the fall off his shoulder.
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In the car, Ned frowned at his laptop. "Um, Agent Hill?" he said. "This doesn't look right." He typed in a command. "Some kind of warning was issued across the whole airport. They're having everyone rerouted to Terminal 4."
Hill looked over.
Ned turned his laptop so she could see it. "Like, everyone."
Realization dawned on Hill's face. She quickly tapped something on one of the car's screens. "Give me a thermal read."
Immediately, an aerial skeletal blueprint of the airport emerged onscreen, along with a live image feed of the thermal scans.
The red dots were amassing in Terminal 4.
"Wait, Silenzior did that?" Ned asked, his eyebrows knitting together. "How? Peter's been with him this whole time."
"He didn't," Hill muttered. She opened the com to Peter. "Peter, report."
Nothing.
Hill pressed her lips together. "Damn it. Signal's being blocked."
Ned looked at her. "Blocked by who?"
Hill ignored him, her mouth set in a grim line.
HEL was here.
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A/N: Thanks to citylily for your reviews! :)
