Peter opened his eyes groggily. Confused, he looked around slowly not knowing where was. Finally, the memories came back to him. Colonel Raytheon, the shooting, and being hit by the tranquilizer dart. He realized suddenly his mask was gone. He retained the rest of his costume, except his wrists were bound by wire and there was heavy layers of duct tape over his silk sacs. His feet were also bound, and he was in an armless steel chair his hands behind the back and feet bound in the center with wires tied around the legs, allowing very, very limited movements. The chair was bolted to the floor, making it so he could not do anything. He looked around the room. He could make out a dim light, a one way mirror, and two heavily armed guards at the only doorway, which was sealed by a very thick bolted door. He figured he was in the basement, since it looked like no office building, and they could not have left due to the fact there were police and all sorts of military and police officials surrounding the building. "Hey," he said to the guards, who gave no response. "I said, HEY!" he yelled. One of the guards gave him a look-over, then just resumed his composure. "Where am I?!" he yelled, this time to no one in particular, since he knew the guards weren't going to answer. "You're in the basement of the building," Colonel Raytheon's voice came through an intercom on the ceiling. "Let me out!" "Not until you tell us who you are." "You've seen my face, so just let. Me. GO!." "Guards," the Colonels voice came through the intercom in a flat tone. The guards walked toward him, with two rods in in their hands. The first guard, a slim man with brown hair and green eyes, raised his rod in the air, and brought it down with all his effort. The rod struck Peter in the groin, searing and literally blinding him with indescribable pain. The other guard, a rather large man, the one who gave Peter the look-over, swung his stick at Peter's head. Peter, still dazed and gasping from the first blow, managed to tilt his head, making the man overshoot and hit the other guard un the chest. The slim guard went down like a ton of bricks, fainting as soon as he hit the floor. Peter realized the rods were electrified, with a small battery at the base of the handle, grounded by a rubber grip as to not shock the guards. He was struck again and again. The guard that had fainted didn't stay down for long, but when he woke up, he was furious and lashed at Peter with ferocity. Peter was bleeding from his mouth, nose, and ears, screaming so loud the guards almost had to stop to cover their ears. Finally, the Colonels voice came through the intercom, "Alright, cease!" The guards stopped and stepped away, once again taking their positions at the door. "Ready to tell us? Or do we need to continue this little charade?" Colonel Raytheon said mockingly. "I'll...never tell," Peter gasped. "Alright. Guards! Another round! This time, break out the sharpies. He'll love that." The guards opened their breast pouches on their vests and took out what looked like a razor, and screwed it to the end of their electric Bobby clubs. The guards advanced slowly, intimidating Peter, making him paranoid. The large guard struck first, hitting Peter in the stomach. The razor opened it up, along with an excruciating electric shock. Peter gasped and sputtered, almost fainting from pain. In his stupor, he had a thought. He tensed his arms as hard as he could, shooting his silk sacs with such force the webbing blew through the duct tape. The guards did not seem to notice while they were striking at him with the sides of their clubs, sparing the razor for moments at a time, where they would tap him with it, opening a small cut and electrifying him, watching Peter cry out in agony. He found the wires were twisted around each other, so he worked his thumbs around and started to undo them. Under the wire was a plastic binding. It was no problem, however since he was strong enough to pull it apart. Colonel Raytheon must have seen him undoing his restraints, for as soon as he got the plastic binding undone, the Colonel's voice shouted over the intercom, "KNOCK HIM OUT!" Before he was done yelling his order, Peter's hands shot up and delivered a powerful blow the large guard's stomach. The guard doubled over in pain, breathless. Peter then brought his fist onto the guards head, knocking him out. The slim guard tried to strike with the razor club, but Peter grabbed the shaft and yanked it away from the guard, then cracked him over the head with it. The guard went down, unconscious. Peter grabbed the slim guard and reached into his pockets. He found a pair of clippers, and cut through the wires around his feet. He kicked out of them and stood up, looking directly into the one-way mirror. He looked back at the guards and proceeded to wrap them in a cocoon of silk. All this time, the Colonel was watching Peter, not making a move. Peter turned toward the mirror, and slammed his fist through it. He fought his way through the glass into the small interrogation chamber, where the Colonel was waiting. "Pretty shoddy restraints, Colonel." It's an office building. It's all we could find," the Colonel replied flatly. Five guards appeared at the door, armed to the teeth with rifles, semi and full automatic sidearms, concussion and incendiary grenades, bowie knives and body armor. The guards took a step forward and Peter shot a burst of webbing at one of the guard's rifle, then pulled back and caught it as it was flying toward him. The guard didn't react at all, and simply removed his .44 Magnum from his belt, and pointed it at Peter. BLAM!