Part One – Daughter of the Lizard
I
There was a faint smell of whiskey and blood in the dark penthouse apartment. Copies of the Daily Bugle were spread across the marble table in the centre of the living room. Laura ran her talons across its glassy surface as her eyes swept the opulent furnishings of the room. The leather couches were without a crease and the walls were lined with priceless art pieces that had been long-missing from museums around the globe. There wasn't an unwiped surface, nor an untucked chair. It was hardly the appearance of a 90-something-year-old thief's lair.
"I knew it was you," the voice from behind her broke the midnight silence. "I wondered when you'd find me."
Laura's gaze stayed affixed on a black, maple cupboard on the opposite side of the room, padlocked and standing out like a sore thumb amongst the priceless antiquities adorning the walls.
"Ah, that old thing," the old man moved into the living room with a persistent hobble. "You can take it if you wish. It has only done more harm than good."
Laura finally turned to the man, a silhouetted figure in the centre of the living room, the outline of the vibrant Madripoor city skyline shining through the
window behind him.
"Is that regret I hear?" Laura chuckled. "Or is it just that same old cynicism?"
The man curled his lip into something resembling a grin before turning towards the window.
"If you're here to kill me Laura, get it over with."
Laura frowned beneath her mask. She caught a glimpse of her slitted eyes against the reflection of the window as she stared at the old man. She raised an eyebrow at the Stark Industries-issued back brace latched into his spine.
"I am going to kill you," Laura started, before turning back to the maple cupboard. "But I want answers first."
The man snorted. "You're just as cold as you were all those years ago."
He turned as Laura approached the cupboard. It spanned the length of the wall and though the doors were well polished, the padlock had faded and rusted.
"The key's in-"
Laura ripped the lock off and tossed it aside, the metal clanging against the tiled floors.
"Marvellous. Why don't you just destroy my living room while you're at it?"
Laura slid the doors of the cupboard open and looked at the emerald flight pack. The wings spanned the length of the cupboard.
"You were always more of a crow than a Vulture," Laura felt the feathery consistency of the wings and shifted her hands to the metallic surface of the flight pack. She turned back to the old man. "Why'd you leave us?"
The man snorted once more and started to turn back to the window. A mechanical tail launched from beneath Laura's cloak and wrapped around the old man's neck, lifting him off the ground. His face began to redden, the tail tightening. The man gasped for air, his arms struggling to loosen the tail's grip. Laura threw the man onto the couch and allowed him to regather air. He coughed and sputtered, laughing between breaths.
"You think I had a choice?" The man finally replied. "I was one of the most wanted men in the world in the most crime ridden city on the planet."
"That's a load of crap, Adrian, and you know it."
Laura let the tail retract beneath her cloak. She pulled a chair from the table and sat across from Adrian.
"Mac stayed with me. He took care of me."
"And where is he now?"
Laura paused, her eyes digging into Adrian's.
"You don't know?" Adrian chuckled. "Even I know where he is."
"I want a location," Laura flashed her talons. "Or I'll force it out of you."
"You still understand nothing, girl. Look at me. I have nothing to lose and I know what you truly want," Adrian watched as her clawed fingers slid back off her thigh as she crossed her arms. "Osborn."
Laura smiled skeptically. "You have no idea where Osborn is."
"I don't. Mac does. And to get to him, you'll have to find Hammerhead."
Laura was taken aback. She slipped her mask off her voice to lessen the muffling in her voice, revealing her smooth olive skin. "He's back with Hammerhead?"
"Last I heard."
"Where?"
"Lowtown, same place as always," Adrian leaned forward, the grin between his withered cheeks illuminated by a ray of moonlight. "You were always his favourite, weren't you? Someone he could control, yet someone so angry. So naturally violent."
"You're a coward. You left a five-year-old girl to live the rest of your petty life alone and rich."
"So that's it? You have my wingsuit and all you need to know and now you'll kill me?" Adrian sat back and snorted once more. "Typical."
"At least I'm not obsessed with someone running around in red and blue tights."
Adrian scowled. "You are fuelled by hatred, revenge. I was no different."
"Spider-Man wasn't evil," Laura rose from her chair, the tail emerging from her cloak once more. "He tried to save my father while you ran away."
"I hope you find Norman," Adrian's spat, his words now accompanied with a sinister utterance. "And when you do, I hope he guts you like he did your weak father."
The tail pounced forward and dug straight into Adrian's chest. He choked and gurgled, slumping sideways onto the couch. Laura withdrew the tail, flicking the blood across the apartment before retracting the metallic appendage back into her cloak. Adrian's grey, fading eyes watched as Laura crossed to the cupboard and removed the flight pack before his gaze deadened and he went stiff.
II
Peter felt his spider-sense raise the hairs on the back of his neck. He set the copy of the Daily Bugle down on the coffee table beside him and looked up to see
Miles perching on the railing across from him.
"Good read?" He pulled his mask up to his forehead.
"Always," Peter said with a smile. "How's things?"
"Crazy, like always."
"You wanna come in?"
"I could go for a famous Parker-cino."
Peter laughed and opened the sliding door to the apartment. Miles hopped off the ledge and strolled inside.
"Tony still got you doing the grunt work?" Peter asked as he started up the coffee grinder.
"A little," Miles sat at a stool facing Peter, placing his mask on the cluttered bench. "Apparently I'm too reckless."
"You wouldn't be a Spider-Man if you weren't," Peter said.
"Okay, not that reckless," Miles joked.
Peter laughed and slid the cup of coffee over to Miles, taking a seat opposite him.
"How's college going?"
"I," Miles paused. "Not so good. It's hard doing all the Spider stuff and trying to keep up with all the work."
"I hear ya," Peter said. "I'm not even sure how I managed to get through my degree."
"A whole lot of these, I bet," Miles sipped from his coffee.
"I recommend taking more nights off. You got a whole team to back you up now."
"A team constantly spread across the whole city you mean," Miles sighed. "Feels like nothing we're doing is actually helping."
"That bad, huh?"
"He's got, like, this grip on everything, everywhere. All the bad guys working together like I've never seen!" Miles sloshed his coffee, a small splash landed on the counter.
"Osborn?" Peter frowned.
"He did what Fisk could never do. 15 years man," Miles wiped the coffee up as he took another sip. "And we still haven't got him."
"These things take time, Miles. Fisk was around for even longer."
"But Fisk was," Miles paused.
"He was many things, but violence wasn't always his game."
"Exactly! Now it's like every thug in the city has a laser pistol or an arsenal of rocket launchers."
There was a delicate pause. Peter frowned, a look surmising guilt crossing over his face. Miles seemed to notice and added; "I'm not saying we need you back or anything, I'm just,"
"Venting, I get it," Peter smiled. "I know exactly how you feel. Every day I wish I could put that costume back on and swing out to help. It took me a long time to realise it isn't the numbers that matter, it's the-"
"-will to keep going, yeah man, that's your favourite thing to say," Miles laughed. "Besides, we don't need some old man swinging round, slowing us down."
Peter chortled. "Old, huh? I'm not even 35 yet."
"Yet," Miles added with a sassy grin. "Do you miss it?"
"Sometimes, yeah. The thrill of jumping off buildings and putting away the 'bad-guys'," Peter paused to think. "Sometimes I even feel a little guilty, knowing there's more I could do."
"How do you deal with it?"
"I remember that to help, you don't need to be jumping off those buildings, or punching eight-armed creeps to make a difference. That's why I became a teacher. It taught me a lot about myself."
"You sound just like May."
Peter smiled. "She said that to me pretty much word-for-word."
Miles laughed. "I bet you're quoting her in class on a daily basis."
"Oh, without fail. Uncle Ben too," Peter added.
"They'd be so proud of you, man."
"Thanks, Miles."
Behind them, the door swung open, and MJ walked in with a bag of groceries under her arm.
"Hey Pete… Miles! What a nice surprise," MJ walked by Peter and kissed his forehead.
"Hey MJ, how's the Bugle?"
MJ set down the groceries on the counter.
"Oh you know, making sure Jameson isn't slandering you guys as usual."
Miles laughed.
"You staying for dinner?" MJ asked.
"I can't, I gotta get back to patrolling before Tony busts my ass again, thanks though."
"You're probably lucky," MJ leaned on the bench between Miles and Peter. "Peter's cooking."
"Hey!" Peter interjected.
Miles let out a high-pitched howl.
"She's got you there, man," Miles scooped up his mask and stood up. "Thanks for the coffee."
Miles and Peter bumped fists.
"Anytime," Peter smiled.
Miles hugged MJ before walking towards the sliding door at the balcony.
"Don't be a stranger, you should swing by more often," Peter called to him. "And keep your studies as a priority."
Miles pulled the mask over his face. "I'll try!"
"See you, kiddo." MJ waved.
Miles gave them both a salute before backflipping off the balcony and zipping off into the city.
"Everything okay with him?" MJ sat across from Peter, resting her hand on his.
"Yeah, he's just stressed. Feels like he's carrying the whole world on his shoulders," Peter said.
"Sounds like someone I know," MJ grinned.
"It must be a Spider-Man thing," Peter laughed. "How was work?"
"So damn tiring. JJ had me running around doing all the hard work before our week off together."
"Well you are their best journalist," Peter rubbed her hand.
MJ grinned. "Yeah, I know."
"You hungry?" Peter asked.
"Starving."
Peter leaned over to kiss her when a knock came to the door.
"Are you expecting anyone?" MJ asked.
"No," Peter frowned.
He stood up and crossed the kitchen to the door. He pulled it open, and his mouth hung open.
"Well, are you gonna invite me in?" Felicia asked.
"Felicia, I," Peter stammered.
Felicia strutted in. "Hey MJ, keeping out of trouble?"
MJ had a puzzled look on her face. "I, yeah… no not really."
Felicia chuckled.
Peter closed the door and glanced at MJ quizzically. She returned the same wide-eyed confusion.
"Felicia, we… is everything okay?" Peter asked.
Felicia turned to look at him, her pale hair falling over her shoulders as she went.
"What, an old friend can't come by and say hi?" Felicia laughed.
"No, I mean-"
"I'm just messing with you, Spider… uh, Peter."
"I'm gonna take a shower while you guys catch up," MJ stood and walked towards the room. "It's good to see you, Felicia."
Felicia grinned.
"You want a coffee?" Peter asked.
"Nah, that's okay," Felicia sat down, her grin fading into a frown.
"Is everything okay?" Peter propped himself up against the kitchen top.
Felicia sighed and looked up at Peter. "Adrian Toomes is dead."
Peter's mouth dropped into the shape of an 'O'.
"He… I thought, I mean he hasn't been seen for-"
"15 years. Yeah. We all thought he was already dead."
"How'd it happen?" Peter sat down at the stool across from her.
"That's why I came to tell you in person."
Felicia pulled out an envelope from her jacket pocket and pushed it across the countertop. Peter began to open it as Felicia explained.
"He was living in a penthouse in Madripoor under a false name. He was there all along," Felicia said. "Thing is… that photo was taken by cameras in the building of a cloaked woman coming into the building."
Peter pulled the photo from the envelope and looked at the masked woman.
"Look at her eyes."
Peter saw the slitted, green eyes, just barely noticeable from the angle of the photo.
"You don't think it's-"
"I know it's a stretch, but it fits. Reptilian eyes, looks twenty something," Felicia's tone grew quieter. "What if it is her?"
"It can't be," Peter stared longingly into the Lizard-like eyes. "We looked everywhere for her."
"It could be a coincidence," Felicia said. "But her killing Toomes… it fits, Peter."
"It's just," Peter's words were caught in his throat.
"I just thought I should show you," Felicia said. "Facial scan is impossible because of the mask, but the Avengers in Madripoor are looking into it. Word has it, the only thing taken was locked in a cabinet. Toomes' housekeeper had no idea what he kept in it."
Peter hadn't lifted his eyes from the photo.
"Maybe you should pay Tony a visit. Tell him what you know," Felicia said. "If it's really her, it could help them."
"Yeah," Peter muttered. "Maybe."
Peter finally put the photo down and looked up at Felicia. "Thanks for coming and telling me Felicia."
"Of course," Felicia stood up and smiled. "I should go. I'll give you a call if there's any more news."
"Yeah, sure… thanks." Peter got up and opened the door for her.
"Stay safe, Spider," Felicia smiled at him as the door shut behind her.
Peter pressed his back up against the door and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a long, sharp breath. His thoughts raced around inside his head for what seemed like hours. The memories of his past climbed over each other, tearing Peter's inner peace apart, thread by thread.
"Hey, everything okay?" MJ's voice brought him back to reality.
"Yeah, I'm…" Peter rubbed his tired eyes. "No, not really."
III
Laura landed on the roof of the abandoned train station, rolling with the impact, and coming to a perch. She peered through a skylight, the glass cloudy and stained. The inside of the station was run down. Moss had started to grow through the train tracks and wrapped itself around the aging train car. The walls were coated in graffiti, the windows marred with holes.
Laura flew once more into the air, the flight pack propelling her off the roof and down the side of the station.
She had removed the wings and modified the flight back to include thrusters on either side to allow for easier manoeuvrability. The green markings on the pack accented her black & green armour. Her mask sat at the nose of her bridge, allowing her eyes to be free of obstruction so she could make use of her genetically granted night vision.
Laura glided through a window and touched down on the station platform without a sound. She turned on the spot as she surveyed the walls until her gaze fell upon the green-wrapped train car. Weeds and ivy had wrapped around most of the train's body, though the doors were noticeably clean and free of overgrowth. She leaped over the train tracks and approached the door, hauling it open and squeezing through before the doors sealed shut behind her. The inside of the cart had been well kept, the floors were swept clean, though the seats had a thin layer of dust.
Laura approached the driver's cabin and felt around on the walls beside the auto-doors. She felt a small groove catch under one of her talons and she pressed into it. A small section of the wall slipped open to reveal a fingerprint scanner. Laura sighed and turned to the cabin doors once more. She forced her razor sharp claws into the door's groove and began heaving. The door slowly pried open, slivers of light seeping into the cabin, illuminating the rows of buttons and dials. The metallic tail began to extend from beneath her flight pack, poking into the cabin. There was only one button that wasn't coated in a thick layer of dirt and dust. The tail pressed into it and she pulled it back out, letting the door snap shut.
Laura stepped backwards and the train car began to vibrate. The whirring and spinning of cogs echoed inside the train car as the lights began to flicker. Laura looked out the windows. The view slowly began to fade as the train descended downwards. The walls blacked out the natural light, and all that was left was the flashing of the dull lights.
A few minutes passed, and the train car shuttered to a stop. The lights slowed their fluttering and came to a standstill. The doors hissed open accompanied by a squeak. Laura took cautious steps out of the cart into an unlit corridor. Her eyes pierced through the dark, revealing the emptiness of the hallway. She crept onwards, walking past a locked closet, until she approached a T-junction. She swivelled her head both ways, when the lights simultaneously flicked on through the hallways around her. She heard the footsteps of at least 20 people running towards the T-junction. Her tail whipped out from beneath the flight pack, whirring to life. She turned on her heel and sprinted back through the corridor towards the train cart, but the closet door she had passed burst open, with 8 armed guards bleeding into the small space, pistols poised and directed right at her.
"Son of a bitch," Laura muttered under her breath.
More guards swarmed from the T-junction, boxing her into the corridor. There were no windows or doors to escape through, and while her armour was bulletproof, she couldn't withstand gunfire from a small army at a point-blank range. She was trapped.
"Alright boys," Laura raised her clawed fingers. "You got me."
Laura was escorted into an office with white walls and a milky concrete floor. A broad-shouldered man sat at a singular desk on the opposite end of the room. The guards behind her were whisked away by a single hand movement of the man.
He wore a navy pinstripe suit with a black dress shirt and a red tie. His hairline receded from the bulging, scarred forehead. Beside the man was a bodyguard dressed in dark green armour. His wrists were embellished by black gauntlets and a dark helmet with a black visor covered his face. He stood unmoving, the visor following Laura's stroll into the centre of the room.
Laura snapped the cuffs that bound her hands and half raised her arms, mocking Hammerhead's futile attempt at security.
"You shouldn't have told your guards to leave." Laura's arms fell back to her sides.
Hammerhead didn't budge. "Bold o' you to show your face here. Even bolder to make petty threats."
"Why, is your little bodyguard gonna take care of me? You don't have the balls."
Hammerhead chuckled through a tenacious grimace.
"What?"
"I let you go once. I ain't lettin' you go again."
"So I'll kill your friend and take what I want," Laura extended her talons and stood with her knees bent, ready to fight.
"You're just as naive as I remember," Hammerhead gave the guard a nod.
The guard hesitated, still unmoving. Hammerhead turned his head slowly to the guard.
"So? Kill her."
"We should hear what she wants," The guard said. The visor distorted his voice.
"I see," Hammerhead sighed.
Laura frowned and stared at the guard.
"What do you want?" Hammerhead asked her, an agitation leaning through the words.
"Where's Mac?"
Hammerhead tilted his chin backwards and he scratched the thin layer of stubble. "Why?"
"Toomes said he knows where I can find Norman Osborn."
"So it was you that killed him," Hammerhead smiled. "Didn't think you had it in you. Mac disagreed."
"Mac's smart like that."
"I'm sure he'd be touched to hear you say that. Sorry to say sweetheart, but Mac don't got no clue where Osborn is."
"If you can't tell me where Mac or Osborn are, I'm just gonna kill you and find someone who can tell me."
"You always have been a pain in my ass, Laura. Kill her Sting," Hammerhead cracked his neck and looked at the guard called Sting. "Or I'll kill you both."
"She could help us-"
"Say another word and you're dead," Hammerhead paused and glared at Sting.
He slammed the desk, the delicately placed pens and paper rolling off the tabletop. "Kill her!"
Sting turned to Laura and stepped forwards, raising one of his gauntlets. He fired a dart. Laura moved her head to the side, dodging the dart as it whirled past her ear. The tail revealed itself from beneath her flight pack. It snapped at Sting, narrowly missing his visor. Sting closed in and threw a fist at Laura. She swiped his arm away and slashed at the front of his armour with her talons. A scratch formed but didn't cut through to his chest. Sting tried for a kick, but Laura caught his leg and punched his visor, cracking it at the place of impact. Sting backflipped from Laura's grasp and fired two more darts. Laura swiped them both away with her tail and swept his feet. She pounced on him and held his arms down. Her tail came spearing down. Sting flicked his head to the side, the tail planting itself into the concrete floor. Sting freed his right arm and swung his elbow into her jaw. He grabbed her by the lapel and tossed her over his head. He flipped into the air, landing a few feet away, raising his gauntlets.
Darts fired at her in a frenzy. Laura wrapped her fingers around the tail and pulled it from the ground, diving to the side. She caught one of the darts and tossed it back at Sting. The dart bounced off his chest armour. Laura launched herself forward with the flight pack and landed a high punch to Sting's helmet. He tried to parry her attacks, but she was too fast. She kicked him in the chest and against the wall, knocking the air out of him. She launched another fist, narrowly missing and instead slamming into the wall, sending a web of cracks outwards. She brought a knee up to Sting's stomach and barraged elbows into his chest. She landed a final uppercut, knocking him down. She brought her tail up to deliver a fatal blow, but Sting splayed his hands.
"Wait!" Sting stopped her.
"Coward," Hammerhead muttered.
Laura took a half step back, her tail still poised to go in for the kill. Sting lifted his hand slowly to his neck and clicked a small button beneath his helmet. The visor slid upwards and revealed a sweat soaked and bloodied face.
"Mac?" Laura dropped her arms and retracted her tail.
Mac Gargan rose from the ground to his feet. He nursed his stomach.
"Hell of a knee you've got there, kid," Mac tried to force a smile, but groaned once more.
"So you are back working for this complete ass," Laura's eyebrow twitched. "And taking orders to kill me nonetheless."
"Remember what I taught you?"
"No one is more important than yourself," Laura recited Mac's worth through gritted teeth. "You haven't changed."
"If this sweet little reunion is done," Hammerhead stood from his chair, scraping it against the concrete. "Let's get down to business."
Laura folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"
"I know what you think o' me, but I ain't a stupid man," Hammerhead leaned forward against the table. "Gargan here's my best man, 'n' you wiped the floor with him."
"She didn't-"
"I'll deal with you in a second," Hammerhead raised a finger to silence Mac.
"We want Osborn dead just as much as you do," Hammerhead continued.
"What, so you can move back into your snug little den in New York?" Laura walked around Mac to face Hammerhead.
"He's a mutual enemy," Hammerhead sat back down, lighting a cigar. "We take him out together and you won't be a target of mine no more."
"Where is he?"
"My contact in New York's been tracing 'im for about a decade now. We know a lot about his business, but no idea where he's shacked up."
"So he could be anywhere in the world?" Laura cracked a sarcastic smile. "You don't know anything then."
"Oh, he's in New York. We spotted him 'bout a month ago, even snapped a photo of his ugly mug."
"His ugly mug?"
Hammerhead frowned. "You got two options. Go to New York with Mac here and help my contact track 'im down so I can mobilise the rest o' my men and move in…"
"Or you'll kill me?"
"Now you're gettin' it." Hammerhead leaned back, puffing smoke into the air.
"I have one condition," Laura turned and looked at Mac. "I'm the one who kills him."
Hammerhead leaned forward and smiled. The light shined off his dishevelled teeth. "Be my guest."
The door behind them burst open and one of Hammerhead's men rushed in, panting. Hammerhead leaned back in his chair, scowling.
"Sorry for the interruption, boss," The guard spluttered between breaths. "The Avengers have found us. It's the Hawkeye creep and his little sidekick."
"They followed you!" Hammerhead howled at Laura. "Deal with 'em while I get my men out. Mac, go with her."
Hammerhead turned to the panting thug, addressing him directly. "Round everyone up, we're goin' through the tunnels."
"I'm not exactly in a fighting way, boss, I'm-" Mac interjected.
"If you don't stall 'em, I'll put one of his arrows in ya' myself." Hammerhead glared at him.
"We'll go through the train car." Laura turned to leave the room.
"Are you crazy?" Mac exclaimed. "They'll be waiting for us there!"
"Exactly," Laura said. "Don't slow me down, Sting. I've got no patience for slow, old men."
Mac groaned and slid the visor back down over his face, following Laura through the corridor.
Laura and Mac stood in the train car as it wobbled it's way back up to the surface.
"I like the tail," Mac broke the silence.
"Of course you do."
"Is it Otto's tech?"
"It's your old tail upgraded with his tech, yeah." Laura had her eyes shut, preparing for the coming fight.
"Smart girl," Mac laughed. "Hey, why aren't you, like, freaking out? We're about to fight the Avengers."
"Please. The Hawkeyes don't even have powers," Laura's eyes opened and she began pacing up and down the train car.
"Don't ever underestimate an Avenger," Mac started. "Trust me."
The train car began to slow, the lights coming to a flickering, syncopated halt.
"You good with the plan?" Laura asked.
"I guess," Mac shrugged and loaded his gauntlets with more darts.
"Good," Laura jumped onto the ceiling, clinging to it and taking out all the lights with her tail.
Mac exited through the sliding doors, slowly walking out into the decrepit train station. Clint Barton and Kate Bishop edged forward from the shadows of the platform, bows poised and arrows knocked.
"Hey Clint," Mac nodded, his voice changer now active. "How's the Little Avengers treating ya, Kate?"
"Look, Sting, we know the girl and Hammerhead are down in your little hidey hole, so tell 'em to come out," Clint began moving around Mac's side.
"Or you could save yourselves, and get lost now?" Mac tried.
Above the confrontation, Laura had silently made her way up into the rafters. She sculked along the beams, sticking to the shadows and making her way above Clint. She wrapped her tail around the beam she was perched upon, slowly edging her way down, hanging above them like a bat wrapped in its wings.
She heard the distracting, if not, annoying words Mac was using, goading the two heroes to leave before any blood was shed. Laura waited for the key-phrase. She watched as Kate had slowly made her way to cover the train car's entrance, keeping her arrow trained on Mac.
"So, shall we dance?" She heard Mac finally utter through gritted teeth.
Laura released the tail's grip, dropping down towards Clint.
"Clint!" Kate shouted as she engaged Mac with her arrows.
Clint swivelled upwards, firing an arrow, and rolling to the side. Laura swiped the arrow out of the air and landed on the ground, cracking the floor beneath
her.
"Lizard-Girl, is it?" Clint asked.
Laura used the flight pack to charge forward, twisting her body and flicking the tail outwards as she spun. Clint somersaulted to the side and flung the side his bow out, connecting it with Laura's jaw. She rolled backwards and leapt forward once more; talons poised. Clint brought his bow up to stop the attack, but her strength was too great. He dropped his block, sidestepping half a second before she landed her attack, catching Laura off guard. He threw an uppercut and turned, kicking her sternum sending her back a few steps.
"So I'll take that as yes on the Lizard-Girl thing," Clint drew another arrow and fired.
Laura caught it before it hit her in the eye.
"Hmph," Laura grinned beneath her mask. "World's best archer?"
Clint shrugged. A jet of gas shot from the tip of the arrow. Laura threw away the arrow, but she had already inhaled some of the gas. She stumbled back, coughing. Clint came in and fly-kicked her face and swung his bow upwards, bouncing her head between the two hits. He followed up with more punches. Laura tried to block and dodge, but the gas had slowed her movements. She swung her outstretched claws to no avail.
"A little help over here!" She heard Mac call her.
Laura launched herself into the air with the flight pack and came crashing back into Clint, landing a kick to his chest, sending him sprawling across the floor.
"Quite a kick," Clint tried to regather his bearings.
Laura felt the effects of the gas start to wear off and approached the fallen Hawkeye. She brought her tail up, ready to kill. An arrow collided with her left shoulder blade, piercing her armour, the tip just breaking her skin.
She grunted, pulling the arrow out and turning to Kate. Mac was knocked out, laying on the ground. Kate fired multiple more arrows rapidly. Laura charged forwards, weaving between them. One arrow caught her in the shoulder, and she winced briefly before flinging the tail at Kate's head. Kate parried it with her bow and returned a blow to Laura's face, following up with a kick. Laura flew over Kate's head and landed on her shoulders, choking her with her legs. She pulled the arrow from her shoulder and swung it down to stab Kate's eye, but another arrow hit her hand and went straight through. Laura fell backwards, nursing her hand. She looked up at the two Hawkeyes closing in, arrows at the ready.
"You're beaten," Kate said. "Submit."
Laura snapped the arrow in two against the ground, withdrawing it from her hand. Blood dripped onto the station floor. Laura withdrew her tail and held her hands out to be cuffed.
"Wow," Kate lowered her bow slightly. "Really?"
Laura launched off the ground and whipped her tail out, knocking Kate back into Clint. She swivelled on the spot and flew forward, scooping up Mac. She propelled herself upwards and flew through the window, evading two last arrows before taking off into the night sky.
IV
Peter sat in the lobby of the Avengers tower, twiddling his thumbs. He reflected on the photo Felicia had shown him, his mind racing back and forth.
"Mr. Parker?" A young secretary had walked over to get his attention. "Mr. Stark will see you now."
Peter followed the secretary to an elevator beyond a set of double doors. The doors slid smoothly open, and Peter walked inside.
"Just hit the button for the top floor," The secretary said. "It'll take you right to Tony's office."
The doors slid shut. The elevator was decorated with a speckled, red/brown polish. The buttons were all numbered except the top floor, which was marked by a white 'A' embedded in a blue circle. Peter pushed the 'A' button and the elevator started going up.
"Mr. Stark will see you now," Peter repeated to himself.
He couldn't help but note the professionalism of Tony's staff contrasting with the ever-eccentric Tony Stark.
The doors slid back to reveal a large, open quarters, complete with a lounge, TV, a bar and a full monitoring set up along the side wall. Tony was pouring himself a drink at the bar, located on the opposite side wall. His hair and beard were a silvery grey and he wore a white suit with a pair of hazel-coloured sunglasses over his eyes. His skin had begun to lightly wrinkle. He looked up as Peter admired the office.
"Peter!" Tony walked out into the centre of the room, shaking Peter's hand. "What a nice surprise. Come, sit!"
The two of them sat at the lounges facing each other.
"Mr. Stark will see you now?" Peter jeered.
"Well, you know," Tony said. "Gotta look like a professional. Got the whole boss thing going now."
"Noticeably, no more guard robots though."
"Yeah, well last time we tried that, it…"
"You blew up the tower and almost the rest of New York?" Peter grinned.
"I see your little jokes didn't go away with the red and blue suit," Tony paused. "Besides I didn't blow it up, that damn robot did."
They both laughed.
"I heard you're teaching now, Mr. Parker?"
"Got a little break at the moment, but yeah. It's great."
"Mind like yours, you should be working here, y'know."
"No, no," Peter started. "I wanted something simpler, something…"
"Something normal," Tony nodded. "I get it. Well, I'll make sure to give the best donations to Midtown High."
Tony smiled and took a sip from his drink.
"Would you like a drink?" Tony asked.
"No, no, I'll be fine," Peter trailed off. "I actually came because of… Toomes."
"Ah yes," Tony placed his drink down. "Your old pal, the Vulture. Miles spilled the beans huh?"
"Actually… he didn't mention it," Peter started. "Felicia came by."
"Oh," Tony leaned forward, taking his sunglasses off. "Look, Peter, you know-"
"I know how you feel about her," Peter cut him off. "She really has changed Tony. She's been on our side for more than 10 years now."
"And how many times did she switch sides?"
"I know more than anyone how frustrating she is, but Felicia…" Peter stammered. "Look, we aren't here to talk about her, Tony. She came to me with a real lead. It was even her idea to come see you about it."
"She knows who did it?"
"Not exactly, well," Peter scratched his head. "We might have an idea."
Peter reached into his coat pocket and pulled the photo of the cloaked woman with the reptilian eyes out. He placed it in front of Tony.
"I've already seen this footage, Peter. Her face is covered."
"Not her eyes," Peter said. "Look at them."
"Snake eyes," Tony looked closer at the photo.
"15 years ago, Felicia and I were tracking Curt Connors through the sewers. He'd kidnapped his own daughter."
"The Lizard?"
"His daughter, Laura… she was born with some side effects, you see. She was born after Curt first used the formula that turned him into the Lizard. She could do some of the things he could do, but physically, she was like any human. The only noticeable tell back then was her eyes; slitted. Like a Lizard."
"So 15 years later she's back, all grown up and out for blood?"
"Norman Osborn killed her father. Toomes was there when it happened and Laura saw it all. A part of her probably blamed him."
Tony leaned back, revelling in the information.
"Who else was there? Who else could be a target?"
"Look, I'm not even sure it's her," Peter started. "But the only other people there were Mac Gargan, Felicia and me."
"So if it is her, that makes all three of you - and Osborn - a target," Tony scratched his greyed beard. "Tell you one thing, it makes perfect sense."
"There's one thing that doesn't fit," Peter leaned over, rubbing his head. Beads of sweet lined his face and his hair had become scruffy from Peter's shaking hands rubbing through it. "Felicia and I, we looked all over for her. Months passed with no luck. That night, Mac and Toomes took her. But all three of them disappeared. They've all been ghosts for 15 years."
"Until now," Tony murmured.
"We can't know for sure if this is Laura until she strikes again," Peter said.
"Well, a few days ago, Kate and Clint tracked a woman matching her description to an abandoned train station in Lowtown, Madripoor," Tony produced a small remote from his pocket and clicked it, the TV slowly flashing to life. "This is the only image we could salvage from the footage that shows her clearly."
The woman wore black armour with green streaks. A mechanic tail with a pointy tip slithered behind her, its base going up beneath an emerald-coloured flight pack. Sharp talons extended from her fingers. Her slitted eyes were unmistakable.
"Toomes' flight pack…" Peter stood from his chair.
"They had her and a masked enforcer calling himself 'Sting' beat before she retreated. They're in the wind now," Tony turned to Peter. "Do you think it's her?"
"It's hard to tell with the mask," Peter said. "And even so, it's been 15 years. She didn't have the claws back then."
"We'll know soon enough," Tony started. "They raided a hideout beneath the station. We believed it belonged to Hammerhead, that's who Sting worked for. Maybe this new Lizard works for him too."
Peter's mouth twitched when Tony called her the new Lizard. "Base was evacuated?"
"There was a tunnel system connecting to the base," Tony switched the TV off. "They could've gone anywhere."
An alert sounded over a speaker above them. The monitor at the workstation flicked on, showing two camera feeds. Tony pressed his fingers to his ear.
"This is Stark," Tony crossed to the workstation. "What's the situation?"
Peter followed Tony, looking at the screens. One feed was labelled 'Spider-Man' while the other was labelled 'Iron Man'. Tony clicked a button, and the voices on the other end of his comms-link started to come through a set of speakers on either side of the monitor.
"Iron Man and I have engaged Sandman and his crew," Miles said. "We got it under control, but backup would be helpful if we can spare anyone."
Tony typed on the touch-screen keyboard viciously.
"This is Stark calling all available Champions," Tony said. "Backup needed at Spider-Man and Iron Man's locations, ASAP."
"Copy, this is Falcon. I'm enroute."
"This is Stature, copy. I've just dealt with a mugger, I'm on my way."
Tony turned to Peter.
"You feeling up for a little Spider-Manning?" Tony smirked.
Peter scratched his head. "Look Tony, I just-"
Miles' camera feed went offline.
"Spider-Man!" Tony tried bringing the camera feed back online.
"This is Iron Man to Champion leader! There's something else here! She's-"
The other feed went dark, and the comms went dead.
"Miles! Nathaniel! Do you copy? Stark to all Champions, this is a red alert, Spider-Man and Iron Man are down, we need you at their location now!"
To Be Continued...
Part Two - 'Out For Blood' coming soon
In the next part, we will see Peter Parker struggling to deal with a haunting failure from his past that threatens the fragile peace he has worked so hard to build in his five years of retirement from the role of Spider-Man.
