Chapter Seven

"You are just – amazing," Peggy said. She handed Beck a cup of coffee. "The way you stood up to the Goblin? I've never seen anything so brave in my life."

He sniffed and peered into the Styrofoam cup. "Hey, is this real cream? Because I can't stand that fake stuff."

"Oh yeah. I got it myself," she answered quickly.

Mary Jane gave up on getting her makeup girl's attention. She noticed that Peggy's hair was down and she was wearing more makeup than she usually did. Shaking her head, MJ adjusted her costume (a tailored grey suit) and rummaged in Peggy's bag for a mirror to check her face.

"Aren't you scared? The Goblin might," Peggy's voice dropped to a whisper, "change his mind." She leaned on the edge of Beck's chair.

He scowled. "Do you mind?" She jerked back. " – and that's another thing, I should have a trailer. I can't be expected to keep my focus with all this noise and distraction."

He waved grandly around to indicate the studio, which was filled with the crew setting up the lights. A row of folding chairs had been provided on one side for MJ, Beck, and a few of the other actors in the scene they were about to shoot. Everyone was in costume. Personally, MJ thought Beck looked ridiculous with his thin neck and querulous expression sticking out of the top of the Goblin's armor. Then again, Peter looks a little goofy when he takes just his mask off, she thought, and giggled. Beck shot her a suspicious look but didn't stop his list of complaints.

It was almost noon before the police found the Uzi, hidden under a pile of molding Chinese take-out cartons behind a cardboard screen in Beck's tiny, smelly apartment.

"What an idiot," was the comment made by the officer who discovered it.

"Half of them are like that," grunted his partner. "They never really believe they'll get caught. In their heads, they're the heroes of their own little movie."

"Huh." The two moved out to their patrol car, bagging the gun and locking it in the trunk as evidence but knowing they had long hours of sorting out the crud in the apartment still ahead of them.

The had dispatch put them through to Apex Studios, where the detective in charge of the case was waiting with two units to make the arrest. "We've got the weapon."

"Get it over to ballistics, but we'll go ahead and make the arrest," came the reply. Detective Newman, a newly-promoted officer with a lot to prove, pulled out his cell phone. "Jefferson, you there? Report." He glanced eagerly around the conference room, which Riebeau had essentially abandoned to the police.

"He's still working in his office," Officer Jefferson said briskly.

"OK, let's try to keep this quiet, pull him out without a fuss. I'll be in position with the second unit in five. Wait to move in until I give the word."

"Makeup!" That was Riebeau, hidden by cameras and screens, but perfectly audible. "Is MJ ready?"

"Yes!" Peggy yelled back without taking her eyes off Beck. MJ made sure she really was ready and then grabbed her script to glance over her new lines again.

Riebeau had worked overtime to set up a schedule that worked around what they'd planned for the original script and what was in the new Goblin-mandated version, all the while hoping that once Beck was under arrest, some of the footage would be salvageable for the final film. The effort hadn't put him in the best of moods and most of the crew was walking on eggshells, trying not to set him off.

This scene had MJ's character, the intrepid Agent Amberly, confronting the Green Goblin and Spider-Man in their underground lair, only to be captured. The original scene hadn't made much sense – Why would an FBI agent go after dangerous criminals without backup? MJ wondered for the umpteenth time – but the revised script was worse. It featured the Goblin protecting Amberly from the evil intentions of the Spider-Man, and her reluctant admiration of his dashing, if criminal, ways as he made her his prisoner. If I get through this without throwing up it'll be an Oscar-worthy performance, she thought.

"Let's get going, folks," Riebeau finally called, and MJ and Beck took their places. The set was a huge, rocky, Styrofoam cavern in the middle of the stage, with a white web made of wire and glue stretched across the back. Beck, still overseeing the special effects, flipped a switch and typed a few commands into a PC tucked behind the cables and cameras surrounding the raised stage set, before jamming his mask over his head. Spider-Man appeared head-down and motionless on the web. The holographic version would spin webs, skitter over the walls, and perform impossible feats in general. Three other Spider-Men – stuntmen in costume – stood to one side, ready to take punches from the Green Goblin when the fight started, haul MJ around, and perform other stunts requiring physical contact with the real world.

Reluctantly, MJ took her place opposite Beck.

The door gave way with a slam and the two cops dove in, checking all the angles and depending on their partners to keep the suspect at the computer covered. Beck continued typing and frowning to himself with no reaction at all to the invasion.

"Get down, down on the floor!" yelled one of the cops. Detective Newman, stepping in behind the uniformed officers, frowned as Beck displayed an unbelievable ability to concentrate, not even blinking at the repeated demand.

"Come on, you heard me, you are under arrest," said the officer closest to the suspect. He shoved the barrel of his gun forward to prod Beck's shoulder. As the gun went right through him, he jumped back with an exclamation of fear.

"What the – " breathed the detective. Visions of a quick, neat arrest of this headline-making criminal swirled away.

"I don't believe it," an officer said. "It's a trick, it's just a – like a projection or something."

"Damn," said his partner, laughing nervously. "I thought it was a ghost for a second."

Newman closed his eyes. "So, just how long has this guy been wandering around loose while we've been chasing ghosts?" The four officers with him shrugged and grimaced guiltily at each other.

Slamming his fist down on the computer, the detective cursed. "I guess I'll just have to ask someone at the studio where our suspect has got to," he snarled sarcastically, pulling out his cell phone.

It was worse than Mary Jane had feared.

"I don't understand why we need to do another take," Beck whined. "That was fine." The holographic Spider-Man perched motionless over his head with a patience the director didn't share.

Riebeau stared at him, arms crossed. "Another take," he repeated. "Just do it again, and try to get your arm down on cue."

"It's one line!" Beck shouted. "Come on, what kind of director are you? I'm so bored with this. It's filmed, already."

They had been at it for most of the time since Riebeau first shouted 'Action!' Beck, as well as possibly being the worst actor on earth, seemed to be convinced that filming a movie consisted of standing up, saying your lines at top volume, and calling it good for the day. MJ, hot in her suit and hoping her makeup wasn't running, was just speculating on how long it would take before Riebeau snapped and went for Beck's throat, when the cops came through the door, a plainclothes detective accompanied by four uniformed officers.

"Quentin Beck?" the detective asked. There was a curiously hesitant note in his voice.

"About damned time," Riebeau said and shot one arm out to point one thick finger at the source of his bad mood. "Right there." The detective stepped forward.

"Quentin Beck, you are under arrest for the murder of Jennifer Gertz. Anything you say…"

"Who?" Beck wrenched his mask off and stared at the detective with what looked like honest puzzlement.

Detective Newman repeated, "Jennifer Gertz, late an employee of Apex Studios as a receptionist. Anything you say…"

"What? The Goblin did that. He was seen." Beck waved one green-armored arm and then dropped it hastily. "This is just…I'm not the Goblin. You're crazy." The camera and lights crew were gathering around, staring at Beck with considerable dislike and not a little satisfaction. Beck looked around and bewilderedly registered the level of hostility in the studio, paying no attention to the rest of his Miranda rights. At a head jerk from his superior, one of the uniformed cops stepped forward with a set of handcuffs.

"No!" The fact that he was about to be arrested sank in at last, and Beck dropped the green mask to the floor before flipping back and away from the officers, landing precariously on a Styrofoam rock.

Along with everyone else in the studio, MJ blinked. Guess he wasn't just bragging about his martial arts skills, she thought. That was pretty impressive.

The cops looked impressed as well, but their reaction to impressive was different – they all drew their weapons. "Everyone, get down!" Newman bellowed as he pulled a 9 mm from under his suit coat and raised it to eye level. The crowd scattered and dived for the floor or for cover. Riebeau remained standing but backed away from the set, grabbing a cameraman by the collar along the way.

Advancing slowly toward Beck, Newman continued, "Get down, on the ground, now!" His officers echoed his ready stance, fanning out on the edge of the fake cavern. Their guns were trained on Beck, who was balanced on the fake rocks in front of the fake web and the fake Spider-Man next to Mary Jane. She tried to inch carefully out of the line of fire. Her movement, cautious as it was, attracted Beck's attention.

Spinning quickly to the left, Beck grabbed MJ and rolled, pinning her arms and jerking her around in front of him as he fell. "Back off!" he screamed. Keeping one hand clamped over each of her elbows, he scrambled to get to his feet, pulling her roughly up with him.

"You know, this gets old," MJ grunted and raked her five-inch spiked heel along Beck's right leg. He howled, and his grip slackened. The next second he was knocked off his feet by a flying figure in red-and-blue spandex, who grabbed Mary Jane by the waist and swung her safely off of the stage.

"Thanks, tiger," MJ breathed, and gave his arm a quick squeeze.

"Anytime, babe," replied an entirely unfamiliar baritone, and an entirely unfamiliar hand patted her rump before her rescuer leaped back into the action. Face flaming, MJ watched with dropped jaw as three Spider-Men piled into Beck under the harsh lights. The cops charged around the perimeter of the fight, shouting for them to get out of the way. Detective Newman was holding a cell phone and apparently calling for more backup.

One web-patterned fist rose out of the fray and slammed down, but Beck blocked it easily with a forearm and kicked a second Spider-Man in the belly, sending him flying into line of spectators. The third Spider-Man crouched and swung a leg around to try to knock Beck off his feet, but Beck avoided it easily, kicking that attacker in the head, then spinning to punch the first one below the belt.

The Spider-Man who'd landed on the camera crew sat up, one hand pressed to his stomach, head lowered, and charged back toward Beck with a string of words coming from his mask that MJ wasn't certain Peter even knew. The one Beck had kicked in the head was lying ominously still on the boards of the set. Trading punches and kicks at a furious rate with one Spider-Man, Beck failed to notice the other charging at him until he was lifted off his feet and slammed into the fake web, which ripped and snarled around them both. The holographic Spider-Man hung in mid-air for a second and then blinked out of existence.

"Gotta get this, gotta get it," a tech was muttering next to MJ, typing rapidly on the keyboard of Beck's PC. She didn't have time to wonder what he meant. One of the uniformed cops, hollering for everyone to get clear, fired into the air. The report was shockingly loud. A sound tech at the back squealed and ripped off her headphones as the microphones recorded the shot. There were screams all around, and Mary Jane caught a glimpse of Peggy on the other side of the set, both hands over her mouth and eyes wide.

Beck surged out of the fight and rolled to his feet center stage. Two Spider-Men, both battered but still game, broke apart and crouched to either side of him. Cops strode forward, weapons trained on Beck, calling repeatedly for order.

"You won't take me," he snarled at them, and launched himself straight up as they opened fire. Flames spit from the back of his suit and he kept going up, through the hail of bullets.

"What the – " muttered the detective. Beck looked down, laughing, and looked back up again just in time to see Spider-Man swinging toward him, one foot looming large as it moved straight for his face.

"Arrrgghhhh!" Beck shouted, and lost his balance, spinning out of control and out of Spider-Man's trajectory. The propulsion pack sent him straight toward the floor, with a crowd of shouting, running people diving frantically away. A split-second before his unprotected head rammed into the floor, Beck twisted himself around and clutched at the controls built into his gauntlets. The flames sputtered, threw Beck a few feet back up into the air, choked out a few last bursts, and died, dropping Beck unceremoniously onto the floor. A Spider-Man popped up beside him and hit him across the jaw.

"Hold it right there!" shouted a cop in uniform, running toward him. At the same time, Spider-Man swung back through the air toward Beck, who scrambled desperately on all fours before rolling to one side. The web-slinger swung through vacant space where Beck had been a moment before, then turned clumsily and swung again. Beck stumbled, pushed himself up with one hand, and ran for his life with Spider-Man following, the crowd parting in front of them. Another Spider-Man, earthbound, chased after them both.

"Yes!" At the shout, MJ tore her eyes off of Beck and Spider-Man and turned to stare at the man standing next to her. He had a joystick in both hands and was slamming and twisting it as if he was in the middle of an exciting game, but he was looking directly at the ongoing chase. Beck dodged and dashed around camera tripods, crew, cops, and set pieces with Spider-Man in hot but ineffective pursuit. I don't believe it. It's a hologram, he's got Beck's program going, MJ realized, and started laughing helplessly. "Ha!" yelled the tech, pressing a button to make Spider-Man jump. "Oh, damn – "

Beck had grabbed a light pole to throw at his pursuer, and the tech reacted too slowly to move Spider-Man out of the way. The pole shot through the hologram without a hitch and hit the far wall with a clatter. The look of shock on Beck's face was priceless – for about a second. Then he lunged forward, grabbing Peggy's hair in both hands and yanking her to him.

"That is enough!" he shouted, and the chaotic studio came to a halt. Beck, breathing hard and with a few pieces of wire-and-glue web hanging from his shoulder, put one hand around Peggy's throat and squeezed. She scratched and pulled uselessly at his glove and gauntlet. "Everyone just back off or I'll break her neck!"

The four police officers, now scattered around the room, still held their weapons but had no hope of getting a clear shot through the mess. People who had been knocked down silently got to their feet or sat where they were. One Spider-Man slid to a halt and backed away from Beck and Peggy, while another was kneeling by the one on the set floor, who still hadn't regained consciousness. MJ and the computer tech, in their sheltered corner, watched Detective Newman stand up. He wiped at his nose, looking surprised when his hand came away bloody, then pushed his way through to face Beck from a few feet away.

"OK, son, just calm – "

"I am not your son!" Beck shrieked, and Peggy gave a kind of strangled moan as his grip tightened. "Stay back! I am out of here, and no one is going to stop me!" Yanking Peggy along with him, he backed toward the area behind the stage where MJ, the tech, and the special effects materials were tucked away. Mary Jane and the tech exchanged one glance of total agreement and simultaneously climbed out of the way over the rocky wall into the open space of the stage. From a safe distance, they watched as Beck sidled back, whipping his head from side to side to make sure no one was sneaking up behind him, shouting and forcing choked screams from Peggy every time someone got too near.

As he got close to the wall, Beck's face split into an unpleasant grin and he turned to face his audience. "You are going to regret this, all of you." He jerked Peggy against him. "You're going to regret the day you ever tried to put me down and keep me from what's mine." With a low, theatrical chuckle, he delivered his exit line. "I'll be ba – ack!"

The last word turned into an exclamation as Beck noticed Spider-Man standing silently beside him and he backpedaled a step or two. Then his mouth turned down scornfully and he rolled his eyes. "Give me a break, I am not falling for that again – "

The iron grip around his throat interrupted him.

"Sorry I'm late for the party," Spider-Man said, and grabbed Beck's hand, twisting it and breaking his hold on Peggy. She fell forward, gasping. "But I'm really hurt that you started without me." He emphasized this by grabbing Beck's arms and flicking him upward, arms and legs flailing uselessly. Beck landed hard, knees buckling, and stumbled backward, but before he could do anything Spider-Man shot a web at his chest and pulled him irresistibly forward. Shoving at Beck's shoulder, Spider-Man spun him like a top, letting his other hand guide his web. Within seconds, Beck was securely cocooned.

"Um, package for the NYPD?" Spider-Man called, looking around the crowded, trashed studio for the cops. He spotted the detective, who wasn't exactly radiating gratitude for Spider-Man's intervention. Then Beck, writhing beneath the webbing, abruptly laughed out loud. Confused, Spider-Man swiveled his head back around to stare at the defeated villain.

Then there was a loud bang, and when the smoke cleared Spider-Man, Beck, and Peggy were nowhere to be seen. Mary Jane gasped and stepped forward, but there was no trace of the three people who had been there seconds before. The cops, stepping forward to make the arrest stopped in absolute frustration.

Jon Riebeau, on the other hand, looked at the man standing next to him who had a handheld camera resting on his shoulder. The cameraman checked his viewfinder once more, nodded, and gave Riebeau a thumbs up.

"Cut," said the director with immense satisfaction.