In all honesty, Peter wasn't expecting it to happen that night.
He was on his nightly patrol from eight in the evening to twelve midnight—that sometimes extended up to three in the morning if the following day would be weekend—allowing himself to stay up to twelve-thirty only at most because tomorrow would be a school day. Peter was situated on a balcony railing of an old building when he heard a robbery taking place at the 24-hour convenient store opposite it.
"Hey, Karen, can you, uh, do that thermal scan thing where I can hear them?"
"Sure, Peter. Activating Enhanced Reconnaissance Mode."
Karen gave him a display showing heat signatures of eight people where seven were armed while there was one by the counter who must be the owner. The number of robbers were way too many for a small convenient store. Talk about unfair.
"If I may, don't you think it's a little odd that there's a number of them for a small establishment?" Karen pointed out.
"What do you mean?"
"I'll adjust the audio for you."
The voices were much clearer this time, and Peter could definitely hear: "Where's the entrance?" instead of the usual script of: "Hand all the money in the register or else."
"What entrance?" Peter asked, puzzled.
"Activating Extensive Area Scan." Peter hadn't heard of that one yet. "There appears to be an underground location with estimated five times the size of the convenient store sitting underneath it, Peter."
Peter squinted at the scan that popped out beside the first. "Is that like an underground bunker? What is it for?" The idea was actually cool if it wasn't used for sinister agendas.
"A conference of five people," Karen said, flashing a different window of thermal scanner from underground. "I can detect ten more armed men with them, two security for each."
Peter pieced the info together. So the men at the convenient store weren't regular robbers, and the people below were probably not the regular kind too. He remembered watching an old mob movie, and the situation here gave off The Godfather vibe. Whatever meeting was taking place underground, it didn't sound like good news.
The question was, who was Peter supposed to hand in to the authorities here?
"Okay, Karen, I'll be sneaking inside. Don't change the default web combination," he made sure to add after remembering his first tweak of web-shooter options.
"Should I activate the Stealth Mode now or wait for the incoming from thirty-four kilometer west moving at 0.426261 miles per second?"
Peter was sure there was no car that could move at a little over Mach 2, which meant it was not a vehicle at all. He paused. That could only mean—
As if on cue, a zoom of red and yellow sparks went across the street below, disappearing inside the convenient store Peter was keeping an eye on. Peter could only hear swishes of air and several rustling, and as fast as a single blink, the Crimson Streak made a quick work of the seven armed men. The dazed, but unharmed, store clerk was brought outside by the speedster, and by the time Peter approached, Crimson Streak was already asking the victim to dial 911. Left inside the small space of the convenient store were the former armed men tied together, unconscious, with their weapon piled a few feet away.
If his face wasn't covered, Peter was sure his mouth was hanging open as he watched the Crimson Streak standing there with a hand on the back of the store clerk, comforting him. For the first time, Peter has seen him in person and not as a blur. Crimson Streak's costume was a brighter red from Peter's angle.
Wow, he was more impressive in actual.
"Peter, one of the security personnel below ascended," Karen warned, cutting Peter's bordering reverent gaze.
It was only then that the speedster noticed him, just as perplexed, but not unkind. "Oh, hello," he said to Peter.
Peter was too distracted with shooting his web to the security guy from below who exited the door behind the Crimson Streak to register how familiar the voice of the speedster was. He pulled the AR-15 away from the man, dropping it along with the pile on the floor.
"There's more of them?" Crimson Streak asked Peter incredulously.
"Fourteen more from below to be exact."
"Peter, there are several movements below. Five are escaping via tunnel connected to the underground room and can be intercepted one kilometer north. Three stood guard at the tunnel entrance and six are on their way up."
Peter raised his hand tentatively despite knowing the speedster's attention was on him. "I'm gonna have to go after the five who escaped with a head start, so if you don't mind, I may have to leave the rest to you… sir?"
Crimson streak shrugged, his mouth forming a slight grin. "Yeah, sure. Go get 'em, kid."
It slipped Peter's mind that he has already seen that grin before, too occupied mulling over that his voice must have sounded like that of an adolescent that even Crimson Streak recognized a boy under the Spider-Man costume.
No offense, but the five men in suits that Peter chased were not much of a runner, probably because of their, well, bulging weight that their expensive looking suits were barely hiding.
Peter had politely asked that they follow him to the nearest police station for questioning, assuring them that if their business meeting earlier was in regards to a completely legal matter there would be no problems with the authorities. A two or three of them seemed to have taken offense at his statement that they fired a few bullets his way without aim.
His expectation of this going down quietly and with less hurt was thrown out of the window.
So Peter did his job, bringing them outside the nearby police station with a note from him explaining the situation. The police would know what to do with them.
He returned to the previous location, and much to his disappointment he could only see the authorities yellow-taping the area without the presence of the Crimson Streak. It wasn't like the speedster was known to hang around the crime scene afterwards.
What a bummer.
Still, he could tell Ned tomorrow that he and the Crimson Streak worked together tonight, albeit briefly.
"I should be telling you that there could still be a next time encounter with him, but you have another incoming with the same speed as the one before," Karen said, effectively cutting Peter's glum.
There was a strong gust of wind that went past Peter, stopping a few steps in front of him.
"You're a hard kid to find," Crimson Streak said in greeting after Peter heard a sigh of relief.
"You were looking for me?" Peter asked, unbelieving.
"Of course. I need to thank you for giving me a hand back there," Crimson Streak said. "Thanks, Spider-Man."
Peter gasped quietly. He knew him? "You know me, sir?"
The speedster laughed. "Who doesn't? You're quite famous in the internet." Peter wanted to say that Crimson Streak was too. "And, er, no need to call me sir or anything. It makes me feel kinda old." He awkwardly scratched the back of his cowl.
"Erm, should I call you Mr. Speedster? Oh, I mean, Mr. Crimson Streak! Because that's what they call you… among other things."
Crimson Streak nodded sagely, seemingly aware of his nicknames online. "Personally, I think they all sounded mouthful."
"So what should we call you?"
The speedster's eyes glinted amusedly as he grinned, one of the hands on his hips extending to Peter in a friendly gesture.
"Nice to meet you, Spider-Man. I'm The Flash."
"Hey, Happy. Here's my report for tonight. I stopped this crime syndicate meeting that I thought at first was a robbery. I finally met The Flash and we helped each other. He's so fast and so cool! Karen says his speed is at Mach 2, will you believe that? On my way home, I stopped a man climbing the balcony of a two-story, and I honestly thought it was a burglar. Turns out, he just lost his keys so he had to sneak in. I fell victim with that thing again. And, oh, did I tell you that I met The Flash earlier tonight?"
"Who's this The Flash?" Tony asked after listening to the recorded call by Peter.
"The kid has been gushing about this new superhero recently. Somebody who can move fast, he said," Happy said listlessly, eyes not leaving the road. Peter was a great kid, and Happy owed him for saving his job, but one could get tired of hearing about his new favorite superhero. Normally, Happy didn't direct those kind of calls to Tony, but after hearing the latest report, it was in Tony's best interest to hear it for himself. God knew how he cared for the kid. "Peter called him Crimson Streak or something."
Alongside the Baby Monitor, Tony pulled up an internet search on the Crimson Streak after googling for The Flash didn't yield any useful result. So far, the feed from the Baby Monitor was the clearest recording about this mysterious speedster.
Karen (the name grew on Tony as well) had given him a recorded speed of this speedster. Tony had only met one speedster in his whole life, Wanda's twin brother, Pietro Maximoff, and as far as he knew, Pietro's speed wasn't on par with The Flash's. It could have been, probably, if the kid didn't die young. Tony knew that was on him too.
Tony paused the video displayed on the Baby Monitor, troubled that like Pietro, The Flash's ability could possibly be from an illegal procedure too.
He would have a word with Peter.
TBC