Spider-Man: High School Rules
Chapter 13: A Deal With The Devil
George Stacy took a seat opposite the subject. At a glance, you'd assume him to be violent; he had a big, muscular build and his face was bruised badly, yet his composure was calm and quiet.
"Mr Bloch," George Stacy addressed him, opening a case file, "You've caught our eye. Seems like you're higher-profile than the other individuals we found at the scene but hey, that's not saying much..."
Raymond kept his composure, staring down at the Captain.
"Let's keep this short and simple, shall we?" said George, matter-of-factly, "Let's talk about your employer. We're already hearing names – Hammerhead, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. Where can we find him, Mr Bloch?"
Once again, Raymond didn't open his mouth.
"Or do you prefer, 'The Ox'?"
Silence. George scoffed.
"Raymond, by all means you can continue to refuse co-operation, but I can tell you now that it won't help you in the long run. This is a relatively small operation we're talking about; there can't be that much money in it. What about Hammerhead is keeping you and the others from spilling?"
George continued to be met with silence.
"He's brutal, isn't he?" George said knowingly, shuffling through the report files, "Maybe he had something to do with the death of Jackson Brice."
At that moment, Bloch momentarily lost his poker face. George knew he was on to something.
"You heard?" George asked, "We found him washed up down the East River. Background check indicated ol' Montana had some business in the criminal underworld..."
He pulled out an A4 print from his file; a photo from the scene where the body was found. Raymond's mouth dropped open upon being shown the photos, scowling at the bloody mess where Montana's head should be.
"This why they call him Hammerhead?" George theorized, "Executions by blunt force? You know anything about this?"
Raymond's eyes shifted from the picture to George Stacy.
"I don't know anything about that," he answered bluntly.
Fancy Dan arrived at the designated meet-up spot. It was a longer drive than he was used to, thanks to Hammerhead's insistence that they operate in different areas to normal until the heat dies down. Pulling up, he saw Hammerhead and his henchmen, alongside two other individuals.
Parking and stepping out, Dan got a good look at them; one was a spit of Ox, except for the short, stubby Mohican running back along his head. The other was well-built, stoic-looking with his arms crossed.
"Who are these guys?" Dan asked.
"These are your new crew," Hammerhead introduced them one by one. "This here is Ron Bloch, Raymond's brother. He'll be filling in while Ray's held up."
He then introduced the other man. "And this here, is Hammer Harrison: Montana's permanent replacement."
"Hammer?" Dan looked at him, "What does he do?"
"World-class boxer," Hammer answered for himself, "What about you?"
"Mixed martial artist," Dan snapped back. He felt like asking Hammerhead what good having another fighter as opposed to a long-ranged member would do, though after the events of the other night he felt it better not to challenge him.
"Easy, now," Hammerhead sensed Dan's stubbornness, "You either get on with my new guys, or get on your way. You pick."
Dan reluctantly accepted the conditions. "When do we start?"
"Tomorrow night," Hammerhead announced to the group, "As Dan here has come to know, you'll receive a message within a few hours of the job starting. Be there exactly ten minutes beforehand, scope out the scene, and make sure it's not being watched; then, and only then, can you give my boys the go-ahead."
The group silently understood.
LINEBREAK
The sound of the webbing hitting the wet brick made a loud, slapping sound as Spider-Man swung against the wall, sticking to it with his right foot and hand. Just up ahead was the small compound he was taken to, exactly as he remembered it. There were no lights on, at least none that he could see. Maybe they'd lowered their defences; maybe this would be easier than he thought!
Firing another series of webs, Spider-Man swung further along before carefully landing on the roof of the building. He spotted a window in the ceiling, propped open just a tad and creating a miniature waterfall of rain water, splashing loudly against the tiled floors below. Crouching over and gently lifting it, the hinges squeaked as the gap grew larger, allowing Spidey to crawl in.
Climbing inside the building and onto the ceiling, which, he assumed, would be the stealthiest option, Spider-Man crawled along. It was slightly disorientating – he had never tried this for a long duration of time – but he soon grew used to seeing everything from an upside down perspective.
As he reached a split path, Peter's senses rang faintly in the back of his head.
Maybe there is someone in here...
Though honestly, he'd be surprised if there were; the place was barren, soundless, void of life. There was no obvious hint that anyone was home.
Hey, that's not such a bad thing – this might not be so difficult after all!
Deciding that he was safe to roam on his feet, Spider-Man spun a web and lowered himself slowly to the ground. His clothes were soaked from the rain, and the cool temperature in the building definitely wasn't helping. He moved from a walk to a jog, hoping it would at least make this quicker, if not warm him up. The objective was to find whatever room he had been taken to, and his memory of his capture was vivid enough that he was sure he'd recognise something that could lead him there.
Despite feeling relatively safe and confident, Peter's senses were still buzzing. It was confusing as well as irritating; confusing as there was no obvious threat, and irritating because the effect was almost headache-inducing. Jogging down a hallway, it turned to the right and Peter's heart skipped a beat. He remembered being dragged down this corridor by his arms. His spider-sense was still active, but as he moved towards the door at the end of the hallway, it didn't seem to activate it further.
Taking a deep breath, Spider-Man kicked the door open and immediately stood in a fighting position. The room, he realised, was empty, just like the rest of this compound. He nervously stepped in and looked around; the stacks of drawers had been emptied, the computer and other contents on and in the desk were no longer there. Peter came to the obvious conclusion that the place was fully abandoned and, whoever these people were, they had taken the evidence that Peter Parker is Spider-Man with them.
Peter put his hand to his head as his senses activated, picking up something strongly. He was in immediate danger. Flinging around, he jumped as he saw a man stood down the hallway, dressed fully in black. He looked just like that gang he fought, who beat him and took him here.
"Who are you?!" Spider-Man shouted, his voice cracking in fear, "Where's your boss?!"
"You need to relax," the man said calmly as he slowly approached the young, scared vigilante, "I'm not here to hurt you."
Despite his reassuring words, Peter was not convinced, and the distance between them closing only made him antsier. "STAY WHERE YOU ARE!"
He pressed down on his web shooters, firing two webs at the man. He twisted out the way, letting the webs fire past him. Peter's eyes went wide in fear.
"I know you're scared," the man raised his hands, "Spider-Man. I'm not one of the bad guys who hurt you."
"Then who the hell are you?!" Peter demanded, almost in tears, "What are you doing here, huh?!"
"I'm looking for the same people as you are," the man explained carefully, "A man named Hammerhead, right?"
Hammerhead? Peter had never heard the name. "You're a good guy?" Peter asked cautiously.
"Yes," the man answered honestly, stopping in the doorway. Peter stared at him as he talked – he had the whole of the top half of his head covered, wrapped in a black bandana. "These men – did they hurt you?"
"They – they know who I am," Peter's voice broke, "I was stopping an arms trade – these guys just came out of nowhere, they beat me, they took me here. I woke up in this room."
"Did you see him?" the man asked, "The boss?"
"I think so," Peter nodded, "His head was all weird – like, I've never heard of Hammerhead, but if that was the guy, I wouldn't be surprised."
"How do you mean, 'weird'?"
"Like... large," Peter motioned to his forehead before realising that the man wouldn't be able to see. "Wait, how the hell did you get in here?"
"Through the ceiling," the man answered.
"No, I mean, literally, how?" Peter repeated, "How can you even see through that thing?"
The man let out a laugh. "Let's just say there's more than one way to see things. Now, you were saying they know who you are?"
"Yeah, they unmasked me," Peter breathed deeply, "When they brought me here. That security camera up there..." Peter pointed behind him at the camera, which sat deactivated, though he realised it may not be of use, "It's not running now, but it was when I was in here. This guy – Hammerhead, maybe – he threatened to leak my face if I didn't do what he said."
"What did he tell you to do, Spider-Man?"
"To either work with him... or to abandon crime-fighting, permanently," Peter replied. The man was silent for a few seconds, processing everything.
"You realise you've put yourself at a massive risk tonight," the man stated in an almost condescending manner, "If the base were still occupied, and those men, or Hammerhead himself, found you and beat you, can you imagine what would have happened?"
"Well, he isn't here, is he?" Peter countered.
"I understand that maybe you want... revenge," the man went on, "Or that you wanted your face wiped off his hard drive, but considering you must have been beat pretty bad by them last time, you ought to have been more careful."
"Who are you, anyway?" Peter asked angrily, "You're not a bad guy, you said, so what are you – another vigilante?"
"You could say that," the man sighed, "I'm not as good as coming up with names as you are."
"Do you have powers?" Peter asked curiously, "I've never seen someone... no one's dodged my webs like that."
"I don't want to get into details," the man walked away, "A word of advice, Spider-Man: don't even think about putting on that costume 'til the day you see Hammerhead's arrest in the news. Don't worry, I'll make sure the footage is wiped."
"Wait!" Peter called after him desperately, "What, you think I'm gonna leave my identity in the hands of a complete stranger?!"
The man stopped.
"Let me help!" Peter demanded, "Because I don't know you, you're just some guy – I wouldn't even know what to call you! I want to destroy it, okay?"
"You're just a kid," the man looked back, "A teenager. How can you expect me to put you at risk?"
"I've been putting myself at risk every night. At least let me help you find Hammerhead."
The man turned around fully. "Only Hammerhead. I know how to find his top guys. I'll find a way of getting it out of them."
Peter nodded, accepting their deal.
"In the meantime, I'd suggest refining your skills," the man turned again and started walking back down the corridor. "Hammerhead won't be like anything you've faced before."
"What should I do?" Peter asked.
"Go to the old Fogwell's gym," the man suggested, "That's also where you'll find me, once I get a lead on Hammerhead. As for now, I'd leave, if I were you. I think the police have just found out about this location."
Without another word, the man turned the corner and out of Peter's vision.
What does he mean, the police –?
Sirens began blaring in the distance, growing louder and louder. Shit.
Jumping to the ceiling, Peter clung to it with one hand before crawling along it with all four limbs, stumbling as he quickly tried to find the ceiling he came in through. As he moved through the base, he found no sign of the Good Samaritan who was helping him.
Crawling through the open window, Peter noted the importance that he could not be seen leaving. He crawled through the shadows and through alleyways until he felt he was a safe distance away. As he ran home, he hoped that whoever that stranger was would be the real deal.
Fogwell's gym, huh? I'll give it a look.
Peter slowly opened the door, its paint worn off from years of neglect. It presented a large room, a boxing ring still in the middle. The only source of light came from outside, from the street lamps and passing cars. Slowly walking into the room, he saw the boxing ring planted firmly in the middle. All around was discarded exercise equipment; a bench and bar with missing weights, a half-full rack of dumbbells, a punching bag hung by a chain.
"You came," a voice said, startling Peter. He twisted around to see the same man in black, walking through the door behind him.
"Yeah," Peter looked around the room, "How do you know about this place?"
"I came here when I was a kid," the man answered after a pause. "It's good – out of the way, quiet. No one else comes here, only me – and you."
Peter nodded. The man walked past him to a punching bag, slapping his hand on it before getting into a stance. Peter watched as he threw punches against it, baffled that the man even knew where it was with that black bandana covering his eyes.
"Hey, how can you see?" he asked curiously, "Like, actually, how?"
The man chuckled, "I don't need to see."
"Then how do you know where thing are?"
The man stopped, dropping his arms by his sides. "I can just... sense, certain things."
"Sense?" Peter raised an eyebrow under his mask. What, this guy has spider-sense, too? "You weren't bitten by a radioactive spider, were you?"
"What?" the man tilted his head, "No, no... I'd rather not get into how it came to be."
"I'm just curious, you know – how does it work?"
The man sighed and went quiet for a few seconds. "I know that you haven't showered since last night. I know that you cut your finger on broken glass on your way in here. I know that when we first met, you were absolutely terrified because you thought I was one of them, right?"
Peter gasped, looking down at his index finger – indeed, he had pricked it on a shard of glass when climbing through a broken window. It had cut through his glove and made a slight incision into his flesh.
"You're like... telepathic?"
"No. Like I said, I can sense things. I just know things. Now have you come here to train, or not?"
"Right," Peter stuttered, looking around for equipment.
"Here," the man stepped back from the punching bag. "Something tells me you don't know an awful lot about throwing a punch."
Peter circled the punching bag. He'd never used one of these before; nor any exercise equipment, for that matter.
"And since I've told you so much about myself," the man's lip curled, "Maybe you can tell me a little bit about that radioactive spider."
Dan pulled his car up by the sidewalk outside his house. He and the other new Enforcers had just overseen a deal, this time without any interruptions. He was surprised by Hammerhead's insistence to go on with business, especially with so much heat on them, but he felt that he wasn't in any position to talk back to him, especially after the 'lesson' he was taught at Montana's expense.
Turning his key in the door, he walked into his house and locked it again behind him.
"Hello?" Dan called, not sure if his wife or son would still be awake. "Ginger? Rudy?"
"Hey, dad!" Rudy answered back. Listening closely, he could hear sound coming from the TV. He walked into the doorway of the living room.
"Sorry I'm late," Dan apologized, "Honestly, my clients..."
Rudy looked back at his dad with an understanding smile, nodding his head, while Ginger's eyes stayed fixed on the television screen.
"Anyway, I'm gonna get something to drink," Dan walked out of the living room and a few steps down the hall. He opened the kitchen door and was met with hands reaching out for him – one arm wrapped around his neck, holding him in place against his attacker, while the other pressed firmly against his mouth. Dan panicked, reaching for a kitchen knife before being pulled back.
"Dan, could you pour me a glass of wine?" Ginger asked from the living room. Dan looked up in his head, as if to look at his captor.
"Answer her," he answered in a low voice, keeping his hand over Dan's mouth, "But don't do anything stupid. Got it?"
Dan nodded, his head rubbing against the man's chest. The man removed his hand, raising it over his mouth. "Okay, honey," he replied loudly before lowering his voice to a whimper, "Who are you? I swear, I haven't done anything..."
"I know who you work for," the man grunted, holding Dan firmly in place, "I've seen you watching over his operation. I followed you home."
"H-How?" Dan whimpered, "What do you want?!"
"I want Hammerhead's base of operations," the man ordered, "And I think you can give it to me. Where is he? Where do you meet him?"
"H-he's on the outskirts of town, in one of the old industrial estates –" Dan was met with a punch in his side.
"I know you're lying," the man scowled, neglecting to mention he'd already visited this abandoned location. "Tell me the truth, Dan, for your own good."
"He'll kill me," Dan cried, "If I tell you, I'm a dead man..."
"He won't know. There's no way of tracing this back to you – not unless you want it to."
Dan sobbed quietly.
"You're scared of him," the man stated, "I understand that. Let me stop him. Let me get him out of your life."
Regaining control of himself, Dan took one deep breath, sighing heavily.
Peter sat down at a cafeteria table – to his right, Harry, with Polly clinging tightly to his arm; to his left, Clayton, sat beside a besotted Kong and Liz, both of whom had, for the most part, split off from their previous friend groups. Kong's Halloween party really seemed to have brought them all together.
"Just us bachelors, eh?" Clayton joked with a toothy grin as Peter sat down. Peter smiled and nodded. That comment, and being surrounded by happy couples, reminded him of Gwen's absence. He hadn't seen her all day, nor had he heard off her much all weekend. While it was great that he was finally fitting in with a larger friend group that consisted of more than just Gwen and Harry, the only thing on his mind was the question of "Where is she?"
With no disrespect, Gwen didn't have particularly many other friends; she was a friendly person and got on well with others, but rarely did Peter ever see her with anyone besides him or Harry.
Maybe he knows where she is?
Peter tapped Harry on the shoulder, who turned around from Polly. "Hey, have you seen Gwen anywhere?"
"Uh... don't think so," Harry pouted and shook his head, "She's probably fine, Pete. Don't worry about it."
And before Peter could get another word in, he was back to being Polly's. How could he be so unconcerned about one of their oldest friends?
Frustrated, Peter looked around the room, examining each table. He couldn't seem to find her face anywhere – not one glimpse of her long, blonde hair or her vibrantly-coloured clothes.
"Hey, don't worry 'bout it, man," said Clayton, "Guys like us don't need a girl, not when we've got the brains, right?"
"Yeah, well I'd like to think I can have both," Peter said, unappreciative of Clayton's comment.
"Look, man," Clayton sighed, "Don't you think if she really wanted you, she'd come to you? Maybe it's time to let go, huh?"
Peter was growing slowly more irritated with Clayton – not just because of his unprompted, unwelcome pieces of so-called 'advice', but because these words were planting seeds in Peter's head. Maybe Gwen really didn't want Peter anymore, now that he was continuing this dangerous lifestyle of his?
"She will," Peter muttered adamantly. After all, despite their relatively brief romance, Gwen had been Peter's friend, first and foremost, for far longer. He'd still see her and talk to her every now and then – right?
LINEBREAK
Peter, 4:51pm: Hey
Gwen, 4:56pm: Hi
Peter, 4:57pm: Where were you today? Missed you
Gwen, 5:12pm: Just needed a bit of space
Peter, 5:13pm: I can still be your friend, Gwen
Gwen, 5:18pm: Pete I'm sorry but you dropped a massive bombshell on me twice now. I need time and space to think about what to do next
Peter, 5:19pm: I just don't want you on your own
Gwen, 5:25pm: I'm not! Don't worry about me. I'll talk to you again when I'm ready
Peter put down his phone in defeat. While he hadn't been able to bring her around the way he wanted, at least there was a glimmer of hope that things could one day go back to the way they were – or was it just a carrot on a stick, a falsehood that was only there to stop Peter pestering her?
He lay in collapse on his bed. Maybe Clayton wasn't entirely wrong – Gwen did want space, after all. Right now, it might be best to just leave her alone, as hard as it is.
Captain Stacy sat quietly, listening to the tape of his interview with Raymond Bloch, formerly known as the Ox.
"What about your attacker?" George's voice crackled, "Anybody you recognise?"
There were a few seconds of silence, in which Raymond had slowly shaken his head.
"Spider-Man?" George asked inquisitively, "He's busted you before, hasn't he?"
"No," Raymond's voice shook, "I don't know who it was – but it weren't Spider-Man."
"Then who?" George asked, losing his patience ever so slightly, "What did they look like?"
Raymond shrugged as the tape played static. "He... just some guy, dressed in all black. Looked kind of like a ninja."
Another officer, listening alongside Captain Stacy, raised a question. "Any idea who that is?"
"The man in black," George raised an eyebrow and paused the tape, "That's all he's known as. The location of their encounter was within his area of activity."
"Hell's Kitchen?" the officer asked.
"Just outside of it," George nodded, "No idea how Ox and the gang got his attention, but they must have pissed him off somehow. Should have seen the guys they brought in."
"Why Hell's Kitchen? Isn't that way out of range of the gang we've been following?"
"It's the same gang," George affirmed, "If that security footage from the parking lot is anything to go by, a disguised man with a similar build to Raymond was among the three who beat up the wall-crawler."
"People are real curious about him," the officer jumped, "Wonderin' if he's dead, if he just disappeared..."
"Wish I could tell you," George sighed, "The footage shows them taking the guy away, but the place we tracked them to was deserted by the time we arrived. Anyway, if he's called it quits, he's done us a favour. These vigilantes, all they do is get in the way of our work."
Ending their conversation, George pressed resume on the tape, allowing the rest of their interview to play out.
Peter threw his fists at the punching bag, grunting with each blow, keeping the form the man in black had taught him. Despite his mentor's apparent lack of vision, he continued to dress in his full Spider-Man outfit every time he came here for the sake of maintaining some sort of privacy.
There was the noise of doors opening elsewhere in the building, stopping Peter in the middle of his training. It could be the man in black, but it could be anyone else. He waited until he heard his voice.
"It's me," the man shouted, somehow sensing Peter being on alert. He eased up and continued training until the man entered the gym.
"I've got news – good news," the man approached him. "I've followed one of Hammerhead's men, some kind of specialist he has as part of a team to oversee his trade deals."
"I think those are the guys I met," Peter caught his breath. "Who, you know, beat me up..."
"Right," the man nodded, "Well, he caved. He's given me an address to Hammerhead's current base of operations."
"Really?" Peter asked excitedly.
"Apparently so," the man responded with less enthusiasm, "I'm certain he wasn't lying, but I've no way of telling if he'll tell Hammerhead to expect visitors. If we do this, Spider-Man, we need to be careful. We can't just run in, understand?"
"Right, yeah," Peter nodded understandingly, "I got it."
Author's Note: Again, didn't mean for this to take as long as it did. Anyway, I've finally been able to formerly introduce a character I was looking forward to including in this story. Yes, to those who are unclear, The Man In Black is Daredevil, he just isn't "Daredevil" yet.
I hope that the next chapter will be out relatively soon but I can't say for sure when - I just know I'd like to get this little arc out the way. I do have another story I'm focusing on, though it'll be far, far shorter than this. If you're interested, check out my profile.
Hope you enjoyed - remember to review!