To all my loyal minions who might have given up hope:

To DragonStar16: Sure, I'll try, but I'm still grounded.

To Agent Silver: First question: I don't think he even knew. Second question: Of course.

To K9: Hope so! It should get better.

To Phoenix Master: Sure, but when has anyone ever kidnapped their own clone?

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Chapter 7: Deep, Dark-Laid Plans

"She was like me in lineaments—her eyes,

Her hair, her features all, to the very tone

Even of her voice, they said were like to mine;

But softened all; and tempered into beauty;

She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings,

The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind

To comprehend the universe: nor these

Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine;

Pity, and smiles, and tears—which I had not

And tenderness, but that I had for her;

Humility—and that I never had.

Her faults were mine—her virtues were her own."

--Lord Byron, Manfred, Act II, scene 2, 105-116

Mr. Anthony Nicholas listened carefully as Jordan and Daisy hurriedly explained what had happened to their friend.

"And he grabbed her and took off—"

"—he was robbing a bank—"

"—and he needed a hostage—"

"—one minute she was there and then she wasn't—"

"Slow down!" Mr. Nicholas admonished his daughter and her friend. "What, exactly, happened to Octavia?"

"She was kidnapped, Daddy." Jordan's eyes were downcast. The shopping trip was her idea.

"Kidnapped." Nicholas let out a slow sigh. "CIA again? Like a couple years ago?"

"No, Daddy. Doctor Octopus."

Unlike most, Anthony Nicholas believed conspiracy theories. He deeply mistrusted the mainstream media, believing that they were only pawns of something greater. He had studied every secret society—the Masons, the Illuminati, the Priory of Zion. He wholeheartedly assumed shadowed figures pulled the strings of government and media, and that the shadowed figures were not above deliberate assassination and bribery. He was a veteran of Gulf War I, and was convinced that the government put a tracking chip in his butt. Most people, including his ex-wife Melissa Breedlove, considered him a paranoid nut. But hearing certain ex-presidents talking about the "New World Order" only confirmed his beliefs. Someday I'll have the last laugh, he thought.

Given his beliefs, it was no surprise he believed his beloved daughter when she told him her best friend was a clone of a super-villain. He had assumed legal guardianship of Octavia after her adoptive parents, Joseph and Jane Jones, were killed in a car accident (orchestrated by the government, Anthony suspected). Because of his involvement, Anthony believed the CIA was keeping a file on him and his whole family. Jordan had told him a CIA agent had shown her such a file.

"Isn't he the guy Octavia was cloned from?"

"Yeah."

"What the hell would he want with her?"

"He was looking for a hostage during his bank robbery. I don't even think he knew."

"Obviously, we can't go to the police. Not with her origins. They'd never believe us," piped up Daisy.

"Of course." Anthony continued, "People like to deny that which they don't want to believe." He scratched his ass where he was convinced the computer chip lay just under the skin.

"We could go to Spider-Man!" Daisy helpfully offered. "His archenemy. He'll know how to deal with him!"

Jordan inwardly squirmed at the thought of her secret crush being beaten up and webbed up.

"Sure," said Anthony, "but it's not like he's got a hotline to call. Spider-man will probably know about the robbery and he's probably pursuing him now. The problem is that the CIA will go and demand to take Octavia again."

The phone rang.

The doctor and his hostage stopped at the convention center.

"What are we doing here?" Octavia asked.

"Like I said, a scientific conference is being held here. I am a man of science. There are a few things here of interest."

A burly security guard looked at the strange-looking man and his much younger companion. "Ticket?"

"What?"

The guard rolled his eyes. "You need a ticket to be admitted into the conference," he replied very slowly, as if talking to a two-year-old.

"Hmm." Octopus ordered Octavia to stand back. "I know I have them—somewhere back here." A tentacle shot out, hurling the guard across the hall. Octavia was unsure if he was knocked cold or dead.

Meanwhile, in his apartment in Queens, Peter Parker nursed his coffee. Mary Jane, his beloved wife, sat breast-feeding newborn May.

"I want you to know that no matter what happens to me, I will always love you—and our baby daughter."

Mary Jane's green eyes locked onto his blue. "Something's up, isn't it Peter. What super-villain is wreaking havoc now?"

The name dropped off Peter's lips with a heavy thud. "Doc Ock."

"Shit. You mean the mad scientist who sabotaged a train and then tied me to a pole in his secret pier while he handed you over to your best pal who was trying to kill you?"

"Yep."

"The tentacle-wielding villain who was whipping your ass so badly you finally had to talk him out of blowing up the city instead of just beating the holy crap out of him?"

"That very one."

"Just what we need right now." Mary Jane's anger was simmering for quite a few minutes; now it bubbled to the surface. "You're a father now! I need you! Little May needs you! For Chrissakes let the Avengers handle it! Or the X-Men or the Fantastic Four or whoever! Just put your family first for once!"

"What the hell do you think I do every day?" Peter shouted. "I have to do this myself! A CIA agent came up to me and said they wanted him too and if I didn't go along they'd leak my secret identity to the media! If all my enemies find out who I really am, you, Aunt May, baby May—we're all as good as dead. And that's why I can't let anyone else handle it. Right now, it's just my neck on the line. If this gets out of hand…who knows how many people's necks are going to be there too?"

Mary Jane's voice was flat. "Fine. Sure. Whatever."

"Whatever," Peter responded.

The young inventor was demonstrating his device to a slender, black-suited man.

"It looks like a simple copper bracelet, right? Well, you press the button and—"

"What the hell!" Carlyle jumped back. The inventor had suddenly disappeared! God, if you're taking the money without giving me the device, I swear to God I'll—

In a flash, the inventor reappeared. "My patented computer algorithm and hologram technology enable miniature cameras to record the surroundings of the wearer. Then with the press of the button the holographic force field will perfectly mimic the surroundings." The inventor sheepishly grinned. "Actually I was inspired to create this after I read my daughter's Harry Potter books."

Carlyle grinned too. "An invisibility cloak for Muggles. What if this technology gets in the hands of the Voldemorts of this world? What then?"

"Look, I don't care who wants it, as long as they pay what I want."

Carlyle's lips curled into a sardonic sneer. "Ah. A man of my own heart."

"Then again, with all the money the SDSI is paying—"

"Shush! We don't officially exist, you know."

The doctor watched the conversation with some interest.