Chapter 6: "the Tangled Web"
11:32 AM
New York City, New York (United States of America)
Smoke and fluttering bank statments filled the air as a secluded patch of a building rubble shifted and a red gloved hand pushed through. Gasped breathing could be heard as Spider-man pulled himself out of the ground and made a web barrier so no more rubble could slide into the hole. An hour had gone by since the First National bank in the Wall Street district had been blown sky high to cover the escape of a group of robbers .
Peter was angry, pain shot through his ribs as he held back a yelp while beginning to pull the four to five survivors out, which momentarily extinguished the rage. Shocked and terrified faces looked upon him for answers to why the men had leveled the thirteen-story bank but all they got was the emotionless mask that held back Peter Parker's glaring face. Already tired and hungry, Peter had ventured over to the Daily Bugle not one hour earlier and had been scammed out of a decent sum for his pics. Jameson had given him a check for half of what he normally received, something that made the down-on-his-luck Parker furious. Walking down the street only moments later, Peter had heard the sounds of police sirens and news choppers. The sirens had led him to the Wall Street bank as its workers had been held hostage by a group of bank robbers, helpless to stop the five-man group.
Everything had gone good as far as Peter thought. He had entered through a open vent in the roof and climbed the shafts down to the window- less main chamber of the bank. Tellers had been grouped in a corner as the guards were laid down next to each other, both dead. Peter had a bad feeling in his gut as he saw this, one resembled Uncle Ben, so he pushed that thought about resemblance back to the rear burner of his mind. The first robber had been easy to take out but Peter soon found that these robbers had planned for his arrival.
It was if they had been sent there to drag me out.....but that doesn't sound right Peter thought as he pulled the last surviving teller out of the makeshift hole.
The robbers had been smart and had a back up plan, in other words: A bomb. The timer had only been set for a minute, which meant the group had been made up of athletic guys since they were gone before the place blew. Instead of trying to disarm the bomb, Spider-man grabbed the remaining tellers and had created a web dome to protect them from the eventual fallout.
Now Peter was dusting himself off. His costume was ravaged and had many rips and tears where rubble had cut him. His ribs hurt like hell but he had to get home and clean himself up for the dinner later. Paramedics and cops filed in and took over the job that Spidey had started, some gave glares at Peter while others smiled and gave a thumbs up. Peter put his hand on his head and found a rip in his mask exposed a chunk of his brown hair, now dusted. A paramedic asked him if he was okay, Peter responded with a shrug and one word.
"Never," he said as he jumped away from the scene and shot a strand of webbing to a nearby building-top for leverage. He swung up town towards his apartment, hoping a police or news chopper would not follow him.
The reporters asked a few questions, their cameras flashing as the survivors were taken to the hospital for check-ups and questioning. Words flew around that Spider-man had saved them but had not captured the villains responsible for the destruction. A representative confirmed that it was too early to know if the robbers had in fact made off with the loot but speculations were Spider-man was a part of the crew. All this news was the same to Mary Jane Watson. If only they would realize that Spider- man was a hero and not a menace.
"Thank J. Jonah Jameson for that," she mumbled as she crossed the living room to the bathroom. Keeping the TV. on, she pulled the towel wrapped around her hair off and glared in the mirror.
I hate my hair, she thought as her beautiful wet red hair fell down around her face, stringy and meshed. She pulled the towel around her waist a little higher on instinct. She shared the apartment with her Aunt Watson, who helped her out of binds and money situations. The elder Watson had headed over to May Parker's house earlier and Mary Jane could have gone nude around the house but her insecurities held her back. Wanting to be an actress/supermodel was hard if she was unwilling to show some skin but her mind was altered.
I'm ugly.....why do all these guys like me? she thought as she pulled a small red hair dryer and black brush out of the bathroom cabinet. Years of mental abuse from her father had shaped Mary Jane into a self-loathing woman.
Maybe that's why I smoke? Only pretty people smoke. I just want to be like them, pretty, she added to her thoughts as she thumbed the dryer on high, letting the noise drown out her negativities.
A few minutes later she was in her room rummaging in the closet. Various dresses made her smile and others made her wonder what she was thinking when she had bought them. Some brought back fond memories while others brought back traumatic ones. A red Chinese- styled one had been worn to a dinner held by Norman Osborn, she had been dating Harry at the time and he wished to show her off to the elder Osborn but Norman had not showed up. The Green Goblin had appeared though and attacked the dinner, killing the senior partners of Oscorp and almost killing Mary Jane in the destruction of a balcony. If not for the last minute save by Spider- man, the redhead would have died there. She was grateful for the man.
Peter....you always were there for me...even then, she thought to herself as she bit her lip and held back the thought of his dual identity.
I should have realized he was .....he was him but I guess I was scared to think that she thought as she smiled and pushed that back in her mind, she needed to pick a dress. A nice respectable black one and a green number that also looked respectable but was more modern than the black one. She chose the green dress and went back into the bathroom to change into it; Peter would be at the dinner tonight and she wanted to look good for him. The TV in the living room went from Mary Jane's favorite soap opera "Secret Hospital" to a special report:
"New York rocked again by escalating bank robberies. Just ten minutes ago New York's Spider-man interfered with a police stand-off with the group labeled " the Alphabet gang" for their leaving letters of the alphabet at the scenes of their crimes. Police say to be on alert for anything suspicious and report if you see anything....these men are armed and dangerous. Also, Wall Street was closed off and all buildings were evacuated in case of building damage. More on the five o'clock news, now back to your broadcast already in progress."
Mary Jane's heart skipped a beat as the report ended and returned to Ricardo purposing to Tammy on the sleazy soap opera.
I hope you are okay, Peter. Mary Jane thought as she turned the TV. off and went back to getting ready.
Peter had made a pit stop to pick up his stray clothes on top of a nearby building and stopped in a restaurant to go to the bathroom. As he walked into the cramped two person bathroom, he tossed his coat onto the sink and gripped the battered sink.
He had cuts and a couple big bruises on his face, looking at the bathroom mirror of "Lucky Chan's" Chinese restaurant, Peter frowned and grumbled.
How do I explain this??? he thought as he moved his face around in the mirror to get a good view of the nasty bruise on his left cheek. Realizing he had not wiped some dry blood from the corner of his mouth, Peter grimaced at his image.
Good going Peter, you're lucky to be alive. Those people are lucky to be alive as well, that web dome stunt was smart, but risky, Peter berated himself as a frightened Chinese man looked Peter up and down, turned around and left the way he had just come in. Taking his coat off the sink, Peter walked out to the main lobby of the tiny restaurant and requested to use the phone.
Peter took the phone from the petite black- haired Chinese lady and dialed up the one person that could help him out of this bind. He grabbed his side a little as the sharp pain in his ribs resurfaced. The ringing went on for a few seconds before a young lady's voice answered.
"Oscorp, How may I direct your call?" the young secretary said as her gum- chewing could be heard through the receiver.
"Mr. Osborn please," Peter asked as a shiver went up his spine, he was used to calling Harry Harry... not Mr. Osborn.
"Please hold," the lady said as the nerve-killing hold music cut in. Peter frowned for a moment.
Harry always had a thing for young secretaries...maybe this is the one he brought over last night? Peter thought as a smile appeared on his face when the line clicked back over but it soon disappeared.
"Sir?" the young lady asked once again.
"Yes, may I speak with Mr. Osborn? Tell him that Peter Parker would like a moment of his busy time," Peter said politely as a slight pause came.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Parker, Mr. Osborn is in a meeting with the head of research, where should I have him direct his call?" the lady said as Peter coughed and pulled the phone back to his mouth.
" He should have it with him. Tell him to call my apartment," Peter said as both said goodbye and hung up their phones. He handed the phone back to the receptionist and looked around the place.
"Nice place..." he commented as he walked out the door into the busy sidewalks of New York. He looked around and then slapped his forehead.
"I'm not home....how am I going to answer the phone?" he groaned as he turned in the direction of his apartment.
The office of Harry Osborn, president of Oscorp, was dim and ominous. The young Osborn liked it that way since the dimness hid his insecurities from potential enemies and his workers. His tan suit clung to his athletic body as the air conditioning kept the office at a chilling sixty degrees. Harry had learned from his father that if you keep one's enemies uncomfortable, then they will be yours to toy with. He felt that to keep the family business running he would have to become his father.
(I wonder if dad would be proud of me? I've boosted profits up two or three margins since I became president. I even kept the government funding that you had almost lost, Father, he thought, as his blonde-haired secretary came in the darkened room for a moment and a smile painted across his face.
"Mr. Osborn, head of research, Hector Podus, is here to see you," she said as a flicker in her eye made the president of one of the largest companies in the world shiver.
She wants me....definitely, he thought as a small skinny man with large bifocals scurried by the sexy secretary and into his view.
"Mr. Osborn, we must talk over the subject transfer order for Experiment Twelve." the man squeaked as Harry nodded for the secretary to close the door and take any messages.
"Yes Mr. Podus...do tell me what concerns you," Harry said, using the dignified tones his father had drilled into him since the death of his mother. The mousy Dr. Podus coughed and shook his head absent-mindedly.
"Mr. Osborn, the subject is not ready for transporting to the government facility," the man said in a whiny tone.
Frowning, Harry looked at the man and then down at the files concerning Experiment Twelve. Biochemical warfare was the past, genetic manipulation was the big thing this year and as always Oscorp was the leader in the field. The files before him documented a cellular growth serum that could make a man re-grow limbs using the regenerative cells of reptiles.
"Dr. Conners states in these documents that everything is right on schedule. I understand if you are having apprehensions over this, Dr. Podus, but I have the U.S government, our employers, breathing down my neck wanting results. What am I supposed to tell them when I don't have anything to show?" Harry said as his irritation at this Dr. Podus grew more and more.
"How soon?"
"I don't know, sir, I would have to do a little more research and experimentation before I..." the man said as Harry put his hand up.
"How soon?" he asked again to the now terrified scientist in front of him.
The mousy scientist cowered in front of the young Osborn, something Harry found empowering for him.
He is afraid of ME! It is so incredible.....but do I need to be like this? he thought as a deep unconscious urge had one remark for that: To survive you must break the backs of the weak so you may use them as platforms to stand upon.
"Two months," the man croaked.
"TWO MONTHS?....Why wasn't I told that this project was not ready? That you were behind schedule because two months extension to me sounds like you are behind." Harry said with anger-fueled words. The man threw his hands forward to try to escape blame with excuses.
"NO excuses. You knew the deadline before you began this project. The government wants this in their hands by next Friday. No one is allowed to leave the lab till this work is finished. Cots will be sent down for you and your staff. I want "two months" to become two days and nights." Harry growled as Hector quickly agreed and took a few steps back.
Harry dismissed the shaking scientist, who scurried off to tell his research staff the bad news.
He must fear for his job, two months....if dad was here the man wouldn't be fearing for his job, but for his life. Sometimes I wished I had paid attention to his talks about science...I'm not a scientist, I'm a young man who inherited a large world, Harry thought to himself as he pulled a hand through his slicked back brown hair.
I have to speed up the other research groups now....great, Harry mused over as his secretary, Serie, buzzed in a few words.
(A Peter Parker called for you and i told him you were in a meeting. Also a Mr. Harnois, your noon appointment, is here to see you.) she commed as Harry smiled and told her to let the big bulky man in.
"Ill call Peter after I see Mr. Harnois," Harry told the pretty blond secretary through the comm. system.
Ron Harnois was a tall, muscular man, with short buzz-cut black hair and chiseled facial features. He was the type that won body building contests; not very smart, but looks were deceiving and if only Harry knew what he was dealing with.
"Serie, alert security to silence all recording devices and cameras here in the office," Harry ordered as Mr. Harnois cocked his head to side and grinned.
"What is the problem, Mr. Osborn, afraid you might lose your comfy pad if anyone finds out your connection to all those robberies?" Ron's deep threatening voice rang through the office, making Harry flinch.
"No, but I should worry about blackmailers and enemies trying to find a trump card over me. I see from the news reports that your idea didn't fail, once again Spider-man is discredited and suspicions of his connections to the Alphabet Gang are raised. I hear you also earned a extra buck or two from the robbery," Harry said as images of Spider-man being destroyed filled his vision. He used to think Spider-man was the greatest but when he had stumbled upon him with his father's lifeless body that admiration turned to hate and loathing. Now Harry would pay or do anything to bring the wall-crawler to his knees, this motivation had dropped the stubborn, young Osborn to new lows. Harnois had been contacted and sent out with a group of mercenaries to pose as a bank robber group.
Supplied with money and weapons, they terrorized the city and dropped hints to Spider-man helping them. Harry's thoughts earned him a cocky grin from the big man in front of him.
"Yes, the device you supplied to us sufficed," Harnois said as Harry frowned at the man's grin.
"I hope no one died in the explosion or for that matter the mission. I believe we agreed the only person that may lose their life is that accursed Spider-man," Harry asked out of compassion and fear for he did not want innocent blood on his hands.
"No, of course not, Mr. Osborn, we don't wish innocent people to get killed in this 'war' of sorts between you and Spider-man." Harnois lied as a smirk appeared on his devious face. Harry looked down at his desk and then smiled to himself. He looked back up at Harnois.
"Good, now where were we? Oh yes....payment," Harry said as Harnois's smile got wider.
He is so naïve; My employer was right on that judgment. This will further his plans and deepen my pockets, the hardened mercenary thought as the two discussed payment and the next move in Harry's little war on the unsuspecting Spider-man.
* * *
Next chaps coming soon!! Till, then, 'Harmful Cure' and I love the reviews!!!
~Sticks~
11:32 AM
New York City, New York (United States of America)
Smoke and fluttering bank statments filled the air as a secluded patch of a building rubble shifted and a red gloved hand pushed through. Gasped breathing could be heard as Spider-man pulled himself out of the ground and made a web barrier so no more rubble could slide into the hole. An hour had gone by since the First National bank in the Wall Street district had been blown sky high to cover the escape of a group of robbers .
Peter was angry, pain shot through his ribs as he held back a yelp while beginning to pull the four to five survivors out, which momentarily extinguished the rage. Shocked and terrified faces looked upon him for answers to why the men had leveled the thirteen-story bank but all they got was the emotionless mask that held back Peter Parker's glaring face. Already tired and hungry, Peter had ventured over to the Daily Bugle not one hour earlier and had been scammed out of a decent sum for his pics. Jameson had given him a check for half of what he normally received, something that made the down-on-his-luck Parker furious. Walking down the street only moments later, Peter had heard the sounds of police sirens and news choppers. The sirens had led him to the Wall Street bank as its workers had been held hostage by a group of bank robbers, helpless to stop the five-man group.
Everything had gone good as far as Peter thought. He had entered through a open vent in the roof and climbed the shafts down to the window- less main chamber of the bank. Tellers had been grouped in a corner as the guards were laid down next to each other, both dead. Peter had a bad feeling in his gut as he saw this, one resembled Uncle Ben, so he pushed that thought about resemblance back to the rear burner of his mind. The first robber had been easy to take out but Peter soon found that these robbers had planned for his arrival.
It was if they had been sent there to drag me out.....but that doesn't sound right Peter thought as he pulled the last surviving teller out of the makeshift hole.
The robbers had been smart and had a back up plan, in other words: A bomb. The timer had only been set for a minute, which meant the group had been made up of athletic guys since they were gone before the place blew. Instead of trying to disarm the bomb, Spider-man grabbed the remaining tellers and had created a web dome to protect them from the eventual fallout.
Now Peter was dusting himself off. His costume was ravaged and had many rips and tears where rubble had cut him. His ribs hurt like hell but he had to get home and clean himself up for the dinner later. Paramedics and cops filed in and took over the job that Spidey had started, some gave glares at Peter while others smiled and gave a thumbs up. Peter put his hand on his head and found a rip in his mask exposed a chunk of his brown hair, now dusted. A paramedic asked him if he was okay, Peter responded with a shrug and one word.
"Never," he said as he jumped away from the scene and shot a strand of webbing to a nearby building-top for leverage. He swung up town towards his apartment, hoping a police or news chopper would not follow him.
The reporters asked a few questions, their cameras flashing as the survivors were taken to the hospital for check-ups and questioning. Words flew around that Spider-man had saved them but had not captured the villains responsible for the destruction. A representative confirmed that it was too early to know if the robbers had in fact made off with the loot but speculations were Spider-man was a part of the crew. All this news was the same to Mary Jane Watson. If only they would realize that Spider- man was a hero and not a menace.
"Thank J. Jonah Jameson for that," she mumbled as she crossed the living room to the bathroom. Keeping the TV. on, she pulled the towel wrapped around her hair off and glared in the mirror.
I hate my hair, she thought as her beautiful wet red hair fell down around her face, stringy and meshed. She pulled the towel around her waist a little higher on instinct. She shared the apartment with her Aunt Watson, who helped her out of binds and money situations. The elder Watson had headed over to May Parker's house earlier and Mary Jane could have gone nude around the house but her insecurities held her back. Wanting to be an actress/supermodel was hard if she was unwilling to show some skin but her mind was altered.
I'm ugly.....why do all these guys like me? she thought as she pulled a small red hair dryer and black brush out of the bathroom cabinet. Years of mental abuse from her father had shaped Mary Jane into a self-loathing woman.
Maybe that's why I smoke? Only pretty people smoke. I just want to be like them, pretty, she added to her thoughts as she thumbed the dryer on high, letting the noise drown out her negativities.
A few minutes later she was in her room rummaging in the closet. Various dresses made her smile and others made her wonder what she was thinking when she had bought them. Some brought back fond memories while others brought back traumatic ones. A red Chinese- styled one had been worn to a dinner held by Norman Osborn, she had been dating Harry at the time and he wished to show her off to the elder Osborn but Norman had not showed up. The Green Goblin had appeared though and attacked the dinner, killing the senior partners of Oscorp and almost killing Mary Jane in the destruction of a balcony. If not for the last minute save by Spider- man, the redhead would have died there. She was grateful for the man.
Peter....you always were there for me...even then, she thought to herself as she bit her lip and held back the thought of his dual identity.
I should have realized he was .....he was him but I guess I was scared to think that she thought as she smiled and pushed that back in her mind, she needed to pick a dress. A nice respectable black one and a green number that also looked respectable but was more modern than the black one. She chose the green dress and went back into the bathroom to change into it; Peter would be at the dinner tonight and she wanted to look good for him. The TV in the living room went from Mary Jane's favorite soap opera "Secret Hospital" to a special report:
"New York rocked again by escalating bank robberies. Just ten minutes ago New York's Spider-man interfered with a police stand-off with the group labeled " the Alphabet gang" for their leaving letters of the alphabet at the scenes of their crimes. Police say to be on alert for anything suspicious and report if you see anything....these men are armed and dangerous. Also, Wall Street was closed off and all buildings were evacuated in case of building damage. More on the five o'clock news, now back to your broadcast already in progress."
Mary Jane's heart skipped a beat as the report ended and returned to Ricardo purposing to Tammy on the sleazy soap opera.
I hope you are okay, Peter. Mary Jane thought as she turned the TV. off and went back to getting ready.
Peter had made a pit stop to pick up his stray clothes on top of a nearby building and stopped in a restaurant to go to the bathroom. As he walked into the cramped two person bathroom, he tossed his coat onto the sink and gripped the battered sink.
He had cuts and a couple big bruises on his face, looking at the bathroom mirror of "Lucky Chan's" Chinese restaurant, Peter frowned and grumbled.
How do I explain this??? he thought as he moved his face around in the mirror to get a good view of the nasty bruise on his left cheek. Realizing he had not wiped some dry blood from the corner of his mouth, Peter grimaced at his image.
Good going Peter, you're lucky to be alive. Those people are lucky to be alive as well, that web dome stunt was smart, but risky, Peter berated himself as a frightened Chinese man looked Peter up and down, turned around and left the way he had just come in. Taking his coat off the sink, Peter walked out to the main lobby of the tiny restaurant and requested to use the phone.
Peter took the phone from the petite black- haired Chinese lady and dialed up the one person that could help him out of this bind. He grabbed his side a little as the sharp pain in his ribs resurfaced. The ringing went on for a few seconds before a young lady's voice answered.
"Oscorp, How may I direct your call?" the young secretary said as her gum- chewing could be heard through the receiver.
"Mr. Osborn please," Peter asked as a shiver went up his spine, he was used to calling Harry Harry... not Mr. Osborn.
"Please hold," the lady said as the nerve-killing hold music cut in. Peter frowned for a moment.
Harry always had a thing for young secretaries...maybe this is the one he brought over last night? Peter thought as a smile appeared on his face when the line clicked back over but it soon disappeared.
"Sir?" the young lady asked once again.
"Yes, may I speak with Mr. Osborn? Tell him that Peter Parker would like a moment of his busy time," Peter said politely as a slight pause came.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Parker, Mr. Osborn is in a meeting with the head of research, where should I have him direct his call?" the lady said as Peter coughed and pulled the phone back to his mouth.
" He should have it with him. Tell him to call my apartment," Peter said as both said goodbye and hung up their phones. He handed the phone back to the receptionist and looked around the place.
"Nice place..." he commented as he walked out the door into the busy sidewalks of New York. He looked around and then slapped his forehead.
"I'm not home....how am I going to answer the phone?" he groaned as he turned in the direction of his apartment.
The office of Harry Osborn, president of Oscorp, was dim and ominous. The young Osborn liked it that way since the dimness hid his insecurities from potential enemies and his workers. His tan suit clung to his athletic body as the air conditioning kept the office at a chilling sixty degrees. Harry had learned from his father that if you keep one's enemies uncomfortable, then they will be yours to toy with. He felt that to keep the family business running he would have to become his father.
(I wonder if dad would be proud of me? I've boosted profits up two or three margins since I became president. I even kept the government funding that you had almost lost, Father, he thought, as his blonde-haired secretary came in the darkened room for a moment and a smile painted across his face.
"Mr. Osborn, head of research, Hector Podus, is here to see you," she said as a flicker in her eye made the president of one of the largest companies in the world shiver.
She wants me....definitely, he thought as a small skinny man with large bifocals scurried by the sexy secretary and into his view.
"Mr. Osborn, we must talk over the subject transfer order for Experiment Twelve." the man squeaked as Harry nodded for the secretary to close the door and take any messages.
"Yes Mr. Podus...do tell me what concerns you," Harry said, using the dignified tones his father had drilled into him since the death of his mother. The mousy Dr. Podus coughed and shook his head absent-mindedly.
"Mr. Osborn, the subject is not ready for transporting to the government facility," the man said in a whiny tone.
Frowning, Harry looked at the man and then down at the files concerning Experiment Twelve. Biochemical warfare was the past, genetic manipulation was the big thing this year and as always Oscorp was the leader in the field. The files before him documented a cellular growth serum that could make a man re-grow limbs using the regenerative cells of reptiles.
"Dr. Conners states in these documents that everything is right on schedule. I understand if you are having apprehensions over this, Dr. Podus, but I have the U.S government, our employers, breathing down my neck wanting results. What am I supposed to tell them when I don't have anything to show?" Harry said as his irritation at this Dr. Podus grew more and more.
"How soon?"
"I don't know, sir, I would have to do a little more research and experimentation before I..." the man said as Harry put his hand up.
"How soon?" he asked again to the now terrified scientist in front of him.
The mousy scientist cowered in front of the young Osborn, something Harry found empowering for him.
He is afraid of ME! It is so incredible.....but do I need to be like this? he thought as a deep unconscious urge had one remark for that: To survive you must break the backs of the weak so you may use them as platforms to stand upon.
"Two months," the man croaked.
"TWO MONTHS?....Why wasn't I told that this project was not ready? That you were behind schedule because two months extension to me sounds like you are behind." Harry said with anger-fueled words. The man threw his hands forward to try to escape blame with excuses.
"NO excuses. You knew the deadline before you began this project. The government wants this in their hands by next Friday. No one is allowed to leave the lab till this work is finished. Cots will be sent down for you and your staff. I want "two months" to become two days and nights." Harry growled as Hector quickly agreed and took a few steps back.
Harry dismissed the shaking scientist, who scurried off to tell his research staff the bad news.
He must fear for his job, two months....if dad was here the man wouldn't be fearing for his job, but for his life. Sometimes I wished I had paid attention to his talks about science...I'm not a scientist, I'm a young man who inherited a large world, Harry thought to himself as he pulled a hand through his slicked back brown hair.
I have to speed up the other research groups now....great, Harry mused over as his secretary, Serie, buzzed in a few words.
(A Peter Parker called for you and i told him you were in a meeting. Also a Mr. Harnois, your noon appointment, is here to see you.) she commed as Harry smiled and told her to let the big bulky man in.
"Ill call Peter after I see Mr. Harnois," Harry told the pretty blond secretary through the comm. system.
Ron Harnois was a tall, muscular man, with short buzz-cut black hair and chiseled facial features. He was the type that won body building contests; not very smart, but looks were deceiving and if only Harry knew what he was dealing with.
"Serie, alert security to silence all recording devices and cameras here in the office," Harry ordered as Mr. Harnois cocked his head to side and grinned.
"What is the problem, Mr. Osborn, afraid you might lose your comfy pad if anyone finds out your connection to all those robberies?" Ron's deep threatening voice rang through the office, making Harry flinch.
"No, but I should worry about blackmailers and enemies trying to find a trump card over me. I see from the news reports that your idea didn't fail, once again Spider-man is discredited and suspicions of his connections to the Alphabet Gang are raised. I hear you also earned a extra buck or two from the robbery," Harry said as images of Spider-man being destroyed filled his vision. He used to think Spider-man was the greatest but when he had stumbled upon him with his father's lifeless body that admiration turned to hate and loathing. Now Harry would pay or do anything to bring the wall-crawler to his knees, this motivation had dropped the stubborn, young Osborn to new lows. Harnois had been contacted and sent out with a group of mercenaries to pose as a bank robber group.
Supplied with money and weapons, they terrorized the city and dropped hints to Spider-man helping them. Harry's thoughts earned him a cocky grin from the big man in front of him.
"Yes, the device you supplied to us sufficed," Harnois said as Harry frowned at the man's grin.
"I hope no one died in the explosion or for that matter the mission. I believe we agreed the only person that may lose their life is that accursed Spider-man," Harry asked out of compassion and fear for he did not want innocent blood on his hands.
"No, of course not, Mr. Osborn, we don't wish innocent people to get killed in this 'war' of sorts between you and Spider-man." Harnois lied as a smirk appeared on his devious face. Harry looked down at his desk and then smiled to himself. He looked back up at Harnois.
"Good, now where were we? Oh yes....payment," Harry said as Harnois's smile got wider.
He is so naïve; My employer was right on that judgment. This will further his plans and deepen my pockets, the hardened mercenary thought as the two discussed payment and the next move in Harry's little war on the unsuspecting Spider-man.
* * *
Next chaps coming soon!! Till, then, 'Harmful Cure' and I love the reviews!!!
~Sticks~
