"Well well well. What do we have here?" Spider-man mocked the two who tried to escape in their respective cars. He slowly opened the suitcases that were being exchanged. The first held no surprises. Money. Loads of it. Hundreds of non-sequential hundred dollar bills, neatly folded. But Spidey was expecting as much. After all, when people exchange suitcases through car windows in a back alley, it's usually not because they picked up the wrong one at the office. Usually someone is buying and someone is selling…

But what they're selling is usually the interesting part. When he opened the other suitcase, he found bags of white powder and crushed green leaves. Marijuana and cocaine. But he also saw…

A small CD, obviously burned, not labeled. Next to it, carefully packaged in foam and newspapers, a small gizmo that looked like it came straight out of a science fiction movie laid nestled comfortably. Spider-man was immediately interested. At first glance, it looked to be something of a small converter, but it had a few too many wires for that to be entirely true.

He shrugged. "Well, looks like I've got to leave early, guys. Tech trouble, y'know."

He grabbed the CD and the odd-looking gadget and left the rest for the police. Satisfied that his patrol was reasonably over, he began to swing back towards his own home where he could analyze everything he had confiscated.

He got home and was greeted by an eerie feeling. The place was empty. "MJ? MJ!"

His Spider-sense began tingling as he approached the bedroom, and he knew he wasn't going to like what he found there. He readied his web-shooters and took a deep breath, bracing himself to open the door and find out what was in there.

He finally got a hold on himself and kicked open the door, hands extended, ready to blast webbing at the slightest movement or sound.

But there was nothing there. His head still tingled and buzzed, though. It intensified as he looked at the bed. Something small and white caught his eye. A note.

He sighed. If MJ had left him a note, it was definitely bad news. No one ever put good news in a note. Especially not her. The note was typed. He scanned it quickly and noticed no signature. The Spider-sense died away as he began to read the note, and it was replaced by an empty feeling of panic.

"Spider-Man:

Knew you would get this note. How have you been since our last meeting? Not well, I hope.

Well, I'll cut straight to the deal. No deal, actually. I have your precious little wife, and if you want to see her again, alive or otherwise, you'll have to come see me, alone and unmasked. I'd prefer for the world to see who you are before I kill you.

Be at the cemetery at midnight, tonight. If you're not, a new headstone just might appear there before morning. Imagine having to take the pictures of your own wife's corpse for the newspaper.

Well, it was fun writing this. Because you're reading this, you probably have a small electronic trinket you got off some of my associates. I hope you do, since it's a bomb that should soften you up a bit before I have the pleasant task of tearing you apart.

Don't take care, insect. I'll see you at midnight."

Spiderman dropped the note to the floor in disbelief. It was just as the paper hit the floor that an explosion tore through Spider-Man's home.