Chapter 10: M'Baku's Tale, Part Three

Enforcer barely aims before Spider-Woman boots him airborne into the interior corridor's close quarters. Enforcer bounces off of a wall, breaks an overhanging light, and bumps the opposite wall before meeting the floor.

Nearly out on the carpet, Enforcer knows that he must retaliate quickly. His fleet-footed foe is almost upon him again. In a nanosecond, Nero discharges both guns as Drew grabs the knave by the neck-nape. Incredibly, the two shots seemingly miss—until they whiz around and sting Spider-Woman in the shoulders. Her superhuman durability suppresses the flesh wounds only so much. Drew releases rascal Nero. Immediately, he vigorously pistol-whips her with both butts.

"Slap me before, will you?!" Enforcer rails, "The new Enforcer has recently wrecked the Wrecking Crew [see Dark Reign: Made Men] and now he's going to wreck you!"

Promptly, swift hands effortlessly block incoming swats. Spider-Woman queries, "You successfully fought the Wrecking Crew with your enchanted ammo, you say?"

"Yeah, and the Hood!" buffeting brigand brags.

"The Avengers beat those five f***-ups all of the time," Spider-Woman casually comments, "We do it like so."

Jessica's jab pops straight through her enemy's swinging arms and punches him past the parlor, where Howard and Tara lie leveled, and clear to the kitchen, where Stymie lies ligatured. Enforcer actually lies limply k. for an instant. Spider-Woman studies the supervillain, slugged sixteen yards down the mansion hall. The supine, slack scoundrel seems unconscious. So, Spider-Woman strolls toward the parlor from which Tara Tam sent a distress signal. Jess Drew just sighs. First, Hellcat encounters a new Grim Reaper, and now Spider-Woman meets a new Enforcer. The good woman wonders when certain bad men will remain put down.

Suddenly, "inert" Enforcer pops-up and fires at will wildly. Instantly, Enforcer empties both clips. The silver semi-autos spray a swarm of tracers upon the Avenger. Around Spider-Woman, sixteen bullets rip and whiz and—preternaturally—track. Ms. Drew marvelously dances and dodges to avoid them.

The superheroine hulas around the hallway so that speeding bullets penetrate the walls' plaster instead of her. The Lady Liberator leaps, and lead lodges in the floor. But, near the ceiling, circling shots sting her in succession. She lands and, pained, pirouettes making some rounds intercept and obliterate each other. Deftly, Jess Drew spins beneath the spiraling shots. Some more mash into each other. However, other circling caps continue to find her flesh, gravely contusing it. Frenetically, Spider-Woman runs up the corridor wall with her fast feet, and bullets take-out other targets than her. They shatter a Chinese vase on the floor, shred Cimmerian chainmail hung on the wall, and strike ornate cornice. Arachne somersaults backward and sprints down the hall's opposite side. Ammo explodes an Incan idol on a hanging shelf and riddles Trojan trinkets on an antique teapoy.

Looking on, Enforcer smirks. He stands. Pistols in hand, he pops both clips from both grips. He grabs another magazine from his belt and reloads one weapon.

Down the way, Spider-Woman shields herself futilely from flying fire. An opened oak door deflects some rounds, but other rounds simply go around. Like wasps, a buzzing, blazing barrage of bullets sting her arms, bite her legs, slice her belly, scourge her back, and brush through her hair—messing it. Irritated, Spider-Woman rips the oak door from its hinges. She swings the solid slab in a swift circle and lodges most remaining lead into it. The Mighty Avenger slings the slab down the hall, and it almost spears Enforcer.

Amused, Enforcer aims his gun, "I think I'll splatter a Spider-Woman." His new specialized ammo is highly explosive.

Downrange, Spider-Woman skips a jig amidst the three remaining tracking tracers. Enforcer steadies his sight. Suddenly, Spider-Woman drops, and she skids herself strongly backward on her stomach. And, Nero needs to reacquire her. Suddenly, Drew's enhanced arms thrust her through the air and onto the foyer. Three magic missiles pursue her pell-mell. One ricochets off the door of the elevator to the second-floor, and it drops mashed. Another projectile pierces two paintings hung near the entryway. One is a Steve Rogers sketch of a young WC Tuttle in the early '40s, and its companion is a Peter Rasputin of WC and Minnie many, many years later. Jessica dodges the last bullet, and it busts apart on the begonia pot behind her.

"Look out, girl! Here comes the money-shot!" Enforcer announces from near the kitchen, the passage's north end.

At the passage's opposite end, Jessica fumes in the foyer, for Spider-Woman cannot leap to Enforcer in a single bound. Instead, she must take cover. The semi-auto cracks. Spider-Woman springs to the staircase from which she earlier sprang. To her right, the occult ordinance blasts the manor's front façade like an artillery shell. Solid carpentry and masonry spray upon the granite steps before the home, and Jess comprehends the newly-introduced unholy ammo's capabilities. Detective Drew also instantly deduces Enforcer's next target. Spider-Woman hops the bannister just as Enforcer obliterates the staircase. The concussion flings the heroine high amidst a cloud of slivers and shrapnel. Her back and backside hit the foyer floor hard.

But, she bounces to her boots immediately.

Smiling, Enforcer strides toward Spider-Woman. His silver rod glints from several rods away. He cocks his weapon again. Before befuddled Jess can move, Nero squeezes off one to dispatch.

Elsewhere, Grim Reaper's scythe makes M'Baku and She-Hulk woeful west of Tuttle Manor. Moments before, Grim Reaper rocketed his right appendage into the sky. On the ground, She-Hulk and M'Baku wondered what was up with the launched armament. Then, the bolt returned to the ground, and they learned to their regret. The scythe—standing stuck in the ground—emits a sonic attack so awful that it overwhelms two marvels. The destructive din jiggles their viscera and jars their hearts. It jogs the titans' very bones and jangles their every nerve. The assault jumbles their brains, jams any thought, and disjoins their consciousness. She-Hulk slumps down and savagely screams against the stifling shriek. Still in his crater, M'Baku moans and mugs miserably as spit jets from his mouth and blood generates from his injured ears. Juicy junk issues from M'Baku's maw. It looks like tea.

Jerk Reaper just looks on unaffected at his jacked opponents. Severe sound jostles the Jade Giantess like a jelly geegaw. Grim Reaper grins a grating grin as she grittily advances and growls. She-Hulk tries leaping at her foe. But, her distressed sinews fail. Her joints fold, and she falls facedown at Reaper's feet. Grim Reaper gazes upon the green lady laid-out on the gray autumn grass. Shaken Shulkie struggling to stand is beautiful, but she is not the most amusing sight that the villain sees. Rather, Reaper is most aroused at how well his retooled weapon works. The scythe's sonic device works excellently after installation. It targets hostiles while leaving Grim Reaper soundly unaffected. Louis Dawson believes that original Reaper Eric Williams could not have possibly redesigned (with Ms. Hayes' help) the Grim Reaper weapon so well.

Then, sans warning, the shuddering metal shatters. Unexpectedly, the agitated armament explodes sending shards of steel speeding out. Some slice M'Baku in the pit. Other pieces pelt She-Hulk's hard hide. One spears Reaper's right hand, and he shivers in pain. Ironically, Dawson realizes that Eric Williams would not have had a right hand to skewer. Angered, Reaper studies the spreading, dripping scarlet and damns natural resonance.

Then, nature itself assaults him. A speedball of earth slams Reaper off his feet and onto his face. Dawson realizes that he is not the only one angry here. A steamed She-Hulk shoves a massive mound of soil toward the troublemaker, and the pile pins him to the ground. Great green gams stride to the (possibly) soon-to-be-sorry supervillain.

Vicinally, villain Enforcer also approaches prey. He would squash a spider. And, the Web-Lady lies pinned under some ceiling that explosive bullets brought down. Overhead, an autumn draft drops onto Spider-Woman pressed against the cold foyer floor. As Spider-Man would, Spider-Woman resolutely shifts the rubble under which an old foe put her. By will, she raises her upper half from the wreckage. Spider-Woman watches Enforcer.

Surprisingly, Enforcer holsters his handgun, and he turns left into the room from which Spider-Woman removed the door. Quickly, he comes back out, and he brings a big sheet of dust bunny with him. A yard from Spider-Woman, Enforcer stoops and smears strange symbols on the floor.

"What you doing?" the detective inquires. Drew wonders whether he expects her to sneeze while lifting the heavy rubble.

"Preparing your doom, my dear," Nero drolly replies, "Mr. Tuttle, in his gentile poverty, has not had a cook in years, so there is copious dust in her room that one would not want to go to waste."

"You could have visited the debris where I am," the Web-Lady quips. Her hand burns blue with the static-electric venom bite that she would love to deliver.

"Why visit your web when I have you in mine?" Enforcer quips back.

The supervillain opens a closet door. It blocks Jess' view of him. But, the superheroine's heightened hearing discerns him striking several matches. Fifteen seconds later, wisps of smoke float from combusting cloth. Before Jess' eyes, they rise in the corridor. Enforcer reappears and partially closes the closet.

"Do you plan to cook me, crook?" Jessica comments, "Because the fire sure can't spread faster than I can free myself." Spider-Woman's joints crack as she tosses aside significant, cumbrous ceiling. She straightens-up to her knees. Her trapped boots should be kicking Enforcer's ass soon.

"No, the element of fire won't get you," Enforcer assures, "But, the wind will."

Drew wonders what Nero means. From his leg pouch, he removes an iron mask that he pilfered from the manor parlor after Howard and Tara were unconscious and WC was dead. Raising the visage, Nero commences chanting as though he might bloviate Drew to death. To the left, an alit tallow candle unnaturally stokes itself and consumes the cloakroom accoutrements hanging over it. Even more sinisterly, the burgeoning flame summons something in the cool fall breeze.

Breaking her feet free, Spider-Woman spreads her glider wings wide like a terror, and she lunges for Enforcer. However, he but boldly bellows, "Come Clothilde, the Wind Witch!"

What?

Out in the open, She-Hulk unmasks Grim Reaper. By the collar, she uproots Louis Dawson from the dirt mound. Dangling Dawson impotently hurls gravel at the great, green amazon. Then, he desperately pulls her hair hard. But, she doesn't even grimace. Growling, he grabs her wrist and futilely attempts breaking her grip. Finally, he has the grapes to dislodge the shiv from his palm and ineffectually peck Shulkie.

She-Hulk grows impatient. Jen Walters grills, "You are Louis Dawson who visited my Brooklyn law office recently. Why are you wearing the Grim Reaper outfit?"

"I am the Reaper!" Dawson announces with wide-eyed madness.

"My buddy Luke Cage said that you say 'I am the Reaper' a lot," Jen Walters acknowledges, "Power Man and Iron Fist encountered you once [see Power Man and Iron Fist #109]. You were a pest and a menace then too."

Reaper replies, "I am no menace to society. I am a redresser of wrongs just as you. In fact, Tony Stark nearly invited me into the Avengers Initiative."

"If you are a hero such as me, why did you attack me?" Walters queries.

"Because you were in the wrong," Dawson bravely retorts, "You would have interfered in my elimination of Man-Ape—who's escaping!"

Sans hesitation, Reaper produces a huge handgun from his cape. The massive revolver could drop a water buffalo. Louis cocks it and raises it over Jen's shoulder. Glancing over her shoulder, She-Hulk sees M'Baku booking northward into the distance.

Glancing at the great gun, She-Hulk states, "Don't fire that thing. I have an ear ache."

"He's getting away!" Reaper reiterates.

"Let him," says She-Hulk, "Spider-Woman, Howard the Duck, Hellcat, Stingray, or Porcupine each might apprehend him. I came prepared." Within, Jen wonders where the hell her help is.

"Oh yeah?" Reaper redirects the whopping weapon at She-Hulk's visage. Her eyeball stares straight down a .50.

Jen rolls selfsame orb, "Don't bother. I'm bulletproof." A herculean hand seizes the eight-inch barrel, and a pinky crumples steel like tin.

"Besides, it is illegal for a felon to have a gun," Attorney Walters advises.

She-Hulk shakes and bobs Reaper violently. The dizzy dastard drops the blunderbuss from his bleeding hand. Still, determined, Louis produces a jackknife, one of his few remaining weapons. Three inches of sticker threatens She-Hulk.

Disturbed Dawson shouts, "I am the Reaper!"

She-Hulk shakes her head, "Iron Man considered you for the Initiative, did he? Once again, Tony Stark shows s***ty judgement."

Foolishly, the super-thug throws the little blade. It bounces dully off dense flesh.

Shulkie sighs, "Listen, this is for harming Hellcat in New Orleans." The Avenger casually smacks the villain, and he is unconscious.

The amazon tosses her inferior opponent aside. She-Hulk scans the horizon to the north, and she discerns fleeing Man-Ape. Powerful legs prepare to leap after him and. . . . .

Tuttle Manor explodes as though it has a tornado going through it. Jen jogs east instead.

A moment earlier, Enforcer lies beneath Spider-Woman who has tackled him. Having him pinned, she squeezes his wrist until his hand unlocks his pesky pernicious pistol. Simmering mad, Jess slams his hand on the floor as punishment for recent problems. She snatches the silver semi-auto and attempts crumpling it like a can. Nero's precious pistol at least crimps into uselessness.

Enforcer screams in seeming frustration. But, more than ire burns across his visage. His eyes

glow like brimstone. And, the closet fire eerily increases tenfold while the air plummets below zero. The captive caterwauls, and a wild wind howls to him down the hallway. An unnatural, frigid southern squall strikes Spider-Woman and steals her breath in gossamer streams. She gasps and shivers. Peripherally, she spies the cast iron mask lift from the lint runes, impossibly unaffected by the wind.

Beneath Jess, Enforcer ejaculates, "Clothilde comes!"

The Wind Witch Clothilde captures Spider-Woman under the web-wings, and she carries her off in an instant. The unseen assailant flings Jessica through a pine door and the porcelain fixtures within. Busted pipes spray rusty water into Jess' face from broken sink and toilet. And, something wicked whips a swirly of crapper wash about Drew's head. Spider-Woman cringes and spits.

From the corridor, the floating ferrous mask boasts, "I shall make a huge ass of Arachne."

Twin venom-bites blaze forth. But, they only pass through where a body should be and instead blister the portraits posterior to Clothilde. Rogers and Rasputin's works smolder, and their smoke streams join the billows from the closet fire.

"Idiot, I am an existence's ether itself! I am the Wind!" the witch gloats from the gathering gloom.

"You forget, Clothilde dear," comments Spider-Woman, "that you are also of the Earth."

Jess fastballs a Carnelian knickknack from the bathroom. When hit correctly, cast iron cracks apart all over. But, the floating mask fleetly dodges the incoming threat. It twirls as though prancing on a pother. And, the floating mask continues spinning—gathering smoke and soot like wool. The wispy wool wraps a female form that magically manifests momentarily. Clothing herself, Clothilde presents the invincible intangible eidolon who Spider-Woman cannot hope to vanquish.

"I am unimpressed and undeterred," Spider-Woman states, "If I can't break your face, I can still snuff your magic candle."

Correctly, the detective presumes that the cloakroom candle conjures Wind Witch onto this plane. Spider-Woman punches through the bathroom mirror into the adjacent combusting closet. From the hole, flames lick at her, but leaking water stifles them. Making her hands a hammer, Spider-Woman prepares to smash through entirely.

But, Wind Witch beats Spider-Woman to the punch. The wicked woman whooshes right into the conflagration. Through the fissure, she jets flame like a dragon's breath. Jessica ducks. Then, Clothilde blasts burning debris through the hole. Drew cannot avoid that attack. Searing embers and ash envelop her. Wind Witch follows. She flows herself into the narrow privy and throws herself upon Drew. Clothilde's currents curl tight around Jessica, and they purl the girl in a whirl. For an insane instant, fire and wind coalesce into a pirouetting pillar that sucks the life from Spider-Woman's lungs. Then, Wind Witch abruptly shoots Spider-Woman through the ceiling, through the house's second floor, and through the slate roof twenty-five feet above. Jess tries adhering her gloves to the roof (she must escape this fight), but Wind Witch sucks the superheroine right back into the depths—a dangerous spiral of slate shards following.

Down below, Enforcer has safely sprinted past the chaos. He runs out the gaping exit that he made in the manor's entrance. He jogs onto the asphalt driveway in front of the residence. He assesses. Wind Witch gave Ghost Rider nightmares (see Ghost Rider #66), so Spider-Woman is probably quite screwed. For which Mike Nero is glad. The bitch bent his precious pistol. Now, he only has one. Into it, Enforcer slams a different clip of cursed cartridges, not yet used today. Gun in hand, the hitman hustles for the west lawn. He should be able to ambush She-Hulk and Man-Ape.

To Enforcer's surprise, She-Hulk jogs around the house corner before him. She stops. She stares-down the startled assassin.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be dead?" Shulkie speaks, "The Avengers Files list you as dead."

"Ain't that guy under your arm supposed to be dead?" Enforcer replies, "Per my files, Grim Reaper is likely gone with a bang." Nero notices an unconscious Reaper under an Amazonian arm.

The Lady Liberator leader lobs limp Dawson onto the blacktop, "Have a look. That bozo is Louis Dawson the Reaper, not apparently expired Eric Williams the Grim Reaper. Louie is not Eric any more than I suspect that you are Charles Delazny, Iron Man foe and Scourge's first victim."

"I'm Uncle Chuck's successor," the nephew Nero points his loaded weapon.

She-Hulk whistles contemptuously. She guffaws and puffs, "Don't bother. I'm bulletproof."

A piece east, Wind Witch gusts Spider-Woman across the Tuttle butler's bed in the servant's abandoned abode. Jess' body impacts the plaster, and hurricane winds flutter Spider-Woman's sliced and tattered costume. A terrible torrent bows and blows-out the window onto the red brick patio outside. It gathers the heavy furniture into a wave and sails the solid wave forward.

Spider-Woman has had enough. Enraged, the Avenger chops the incoming furniture atwain: destroying a dresser, cleaving a clock, mashing a full mattress, breaking a cheval glass, bisecting a brass lamp. Unstoppable, the superheroine leaps forward against the unrelenting force. Wind Witch would show shock if her ferrous features allowed. The arachnid Avenger attaches her hands to the floating iron mask firmly, and she ferociously releases a venom-bite that could fry the Human Fly, sauté Super-Skrull, and melt Morgan le Fay. Her current enemy squalls in distress before dissipating like Typhon before Zeus. The candescent metal mien drops through the inert air and clatters upon the earth. Gutsy Spider-Woman grabs the iron while it is hot and attempts snapping the mask in two. However, the cursed object will not fracture.

Again, the Avenger goes hastily for the conjuring candle. The heroine hurries headlong into the blaze protecting the treasure. Her fingers hook it—when Wind Witch grabs her again. Wind Witch whips her whirligig toy back down the hallway. Momentarily, the incensed sorceress slams Spider-Woman off of the solid titanium of Tuttle's locked walk-in vault. Straining, Spider-Woman manages to aim her arm to venom-blast Clothilde once more. But, the entity will not have it. She spins the Web-Lady woefully about the corridor's enclosed space. With a vengeance, cyclonic Fury resolves to shoot Arachne through the manor's entire ground floor. The bodily harm could be great.

Elsewhere, She-Hulk repeats, "Don't bother. I'm bulletproof."

Without a word, Enforcer trains his piece upon She-Hulk. For a second, Shulkie stares-down the raised weapon. Suddenly, something about this situation unsettles her somewhere in her psyche. Something scares her about Enforcer.

The shootist fires his eldritch ammo. Enforcer's magic bullet unbelievably affects. Impossibly, it penetrates the invincible anterior and makes a crimson plume out the posterior. Jen bleeds from her breast and back. She winces with pain and chokes on ichor. She spits scarlet. The stalwart superheroine stumbles toward her nefarious foe. Then, gasping, the Sensational She-Hulk falls at his feet, and he stands surprisingly triumphant over her.

Immediately nearby, Wind Witch also bests a noble heroine. Clothilde heaves Spider-Woman through a plaster wall and cloth curtain onto a wooden stage. Jess tumbles off the stage onto the ballroom floor. Around the expansive ballroom, displays stand in the room's dusty disuse and gloom. Swiftly, Spider-Woman scans for something to use against Wind Witch. She spies a glass woman in a glass case (this is Glazier, a defunct Hulk foe), a Phillip Masters marionette, a stuffed Symkarian sable, a fully-stocked bar, and a Team America motorcycle on which one might escape, maybe. But, Clothilde doesn't allow Drew to withdraw. Before Arachne even clears the cobwebs, the awful sorceress slings her ass through the swinging doors into the abutting dining room.

Spider-Woman slams hard into the solid slab of a table. Her pursuer passes softly beneath the gates before gusting another solid gale over the Avenger. Spider-Woman speedily slides across the slab and lands hard in the adjacent larder. Fervidly following, the fiend flings a few chairs and whatnot from the dining room into the pantry. The evil eidolon enters the narrow pantry.

Wicked Wind Witch circulates her phantasmal form like a tempest, and she dispatches Spider-Woman in one fell swoop. It takes thirteen seconds for the Teutonic tornado to tour Jess counterclockwise through the first floor. In second one, Clothilde barrages Drew with a sloppy smorgasbord of vexing vacuumed victuals. Second two. Cackling Clothilde careens captured quarry through the kitchen. Over secured Stymie, a blurred body extinguishes the gas burners, crashes through cabinets and their contents, clips the fridge and sink, and collapses the far wall. Face-first, Spider-Woman flies through the fixed screen in the TV room. Fey Wind Witch skips gaily after in her spectral gown. Seconds five through eight. Clothilde buffets her bauble with pillows and stuffed furnitur—before blasting her plaything into the parlor. In the parlor, inert Howard the Duck momentarily miraculously takes flight, and trapped Tara Tam flips unfortunately in her loveseat. That is second nine. Wind Witch sails Spider-Woman through the next wall and into the next room. Second ten. Whizzing Spider-Woman witnesses old WC Tuttle's madness. In a narrow room, there is a crude shrine. And, in a throne, mummified Bull Murdock—long dead—sits in a Terror costume between two eternal flames. To his right is a cask of amontillado. To his left is a girl's doll. Laid before him are thirty silver pieces on the ground. Spider-Woman tries gasping, but Wind Witch won't let her catch her breath. Seconds eleven and twelve. The evil elemental concludes the Avenger's ass-whupping. Spider-Woman barrels through brick into a disused, scummy goldfish pond, and her drubbed body sinks below the scuzzy surface.

Wind Witch watches her weathered foe go under. Suddenly, the sorceress senses something at sea. She flies swiftly toward Stingray and Hellcat on the Atlantic.

Beneath the bogey, Enforcer watches Wind Witch depart, and he hopes that she gave Spider-Woman a good defeat. At his feet, Nero directs his malevolent muzzle, and he fires three times into Reaper's torso. Body armor does not save the adversary, and bloody Louis Dawson lies quite dead. Bad guy Nero feels good for offing an ex-cop who also interfered in Enforcer's mission. Holstering his pistol, Enforcer walks back over to supine She-Hulk. Jen's eyes roll, and her limbs flop. And, She-Hulk is a lighter shade of green than usual.

The nimrod kneels beside her as though he has no fear of a beast in its death throes. Enforcer pronounces, "Let's get you home, Ms. Walters."

Mike Nero stands and outstretches his palms. The novice magician chants an incantation taught to him by a Transylvanian thaumaturge. Under ailing She-Hulk, an unearthly portal opens upon the solid ground. The limp Lady Liberator drops directly into a warmer place. Enforcer accompanies her down. Sans further ceremony, the unnatural aperture seals behind him. Enforcer has just kidnapped the Sensational She-Hulk!

Over yon, the Spectacular Spider-Woman escapes a peril. The indomitable Avenger rises from the scummy pond. Spitting muck and swallowing grit, Jessica speaks into a communicator, "Calling Hellcat and Stingray. Do you copy?"

Slime seeps down Jessica's skin and creeps under her torn costume. Effluent invades the cuts and abrasions from her recent skirmish. She vigorously shakes her long locks to clean them of dirt and debris and to clear her head. The unsinkable Spider-Woman determines to foil fiends Wind Witch, Enforcer, and Man-Ape wherever they may be. She has confidence that the Mighty Avengers can still win the day.

However, after a half-minute, Hellcat radios, "Jess! We need you immediately at sea! Tiger Shark has attacked the boat! He came out of nowhere! THEN, some animate cyclone also came out of nowhere like Whirlwind! But, this wind bitch isn't Whirlwind! She obliterated Stingray instantly! The ship is sinking! Bring Jen! Bring Howard! Bring Porcupine! Bring anybody! Now I'm. . . . ."

CRACKLE! The communication cuts. Drew curses to herself. The super-sleuth supposes that Mr. Z had Tiger Shark on stand-by hidden in the Atlantic since Mr. Z had (dangerous) Man-Ape sitting in his house. After all, WC Tuttle had retained Tiger Shark before hiring the Lethal Legion, and the heroes knew that. Perhaps, the seven superheroes should have seen the squalus supervillain coming.

To Detective Drew's surprise, Stymie Schmidt nearly ambushes her. The kitchen crook has gotten free of the restraints in which Howard and Tara left him, and he has apparently reencountered the Duck and Tam in the parlor. Stymie holds a raygun in one hand and brandishes a framed clipping in the other. Schmidt shoots an errant laseblast that singes the stucco near Jess. Sneering, Stymie Schmidt levels the lasergun at Jess' mug.

"May I help you?" Spider-Woman calmly inquires.

"Yeah! You can move the f*** out of the way, or you can die," Stymie shakes the gun.

"I do not know if a superheroine should do either of those things," Spider-Woman replies, "You might be a dangerous criminal."

"I'm Stymie Schmidt!" the schlub shakes the clipped article as though he were in it, "I killed Jack Murdock."

"Really?"

"Well, I helped," says Schmidt, "I was part of Fixer's gang."

"Nobert Ebersol, the Master of Evil?"

"Well no, Roscoe Sweeney, the racketeer," the goon's gunhand shakes, "B-b-but, I was also in Trump's gang."

"The magician miscreant that crimefighters always, abracadabra," Spider-Woman snaps her fingers, "make disappear?"

"Well, he taught me how to slip bonds like I did in the kitchen," the lout lowers his weapon. Surreptitiously, Spider-Woman forms a gun with her fingers at her side.

"Besides, Stymie Schmidt don't need no leader," Stymie Schmidt proposes, "I led my own gang in Hell's Kitchen when I was a kid. We used to mess-up Matt Murdock, Jack Murdock's kid."

"Considering that Matt Murdock has been blind since childhood, I am duly impressed," Drew drawls. She points a finger at the guilty one.

"Oh fudge!" the "famous", felonious fink fumbles the raygun when re-aiming. Sans hesitation, Spider-Woman simply venom-stings Stymie unconscious.

The heroine hurries to the flames consuming the cloak room, bathroom, butler's room, cook's room, and manor's front end. Oddly, the fire feels good on her dank costume in the cool November noon. She peers deeply into the dancing conflagration, and she spots the cursed candle uncannily unmelted in the unholy heat. Spider-Woman slings a glob of mud from the goldfish pond. With impeccable aim, she snuffs the candle. And, somewhere, Clothilde collapses into her own body with a stentorian shriek as her iron mask plummets into the Atlantic's depths. It passes three flaccid forms floating on the sea's churning surface: Hellcat, Stingray, and even shucked Tiger Shark.

Thick smoke surrounding her, Spider-Woman drops to one knee. She tries to gather her thoughts.

Twenty-seven hundred miles away, all-conquering Enforcer and hemorrhaging She-Hulk drop six feet from mid-air to ground. They land on the beach below Delazny Ranch. A ways above them and a wee inland, at that very moment, Black Talon sits triumphant too. A macabre mess covers Samuel Barone from the eviscerated equine hung overhead. Odious blood and entrails envelop the necromancer while Mike Nero's hypnotized help dance nude about the stable. The vile priest absorbs the animal's life energy. And, it restores his burnt skin and enervated constitution. Enraptured, Barone pounds the glaive in his left hand like a scepter. He keens wildly, and beastly blood engorges his gullet like drink. Miraculously, the recent invalid stands. He rips the bandages from his right stump. The cocksure Black Talon has returned, and he is nearly completely restored. Now, he need only find his right arm—in Ohio.

Far east of Ohio, Jessica Drew sits on an afternoon beach a half-hour after battling Enforcer, Wind Witch, and the infamous Stymie Schmidt. She has her cowl back, and the Cape Cod breeze cools her sore features. Spider-Woman addresses Porcupine to her right, "So, Roger, what did first responders have to say?"

"When I exited the west woods, the cops threatened to arrest me like they had some blowhard punk in a cook's apron. They automatically associate the Porcupine outfit with able villainy," Gocking removes his helmet, "But, assured that I'm harmless, they shared that the Barnstable County coroner removes presently the Tuttles' bodies and some stiff in a Grim Reaper costume. The Truro fire department has tamed the Tuttle manor fire, and they're currently dislodging trapped Tara Tam from a parlor loveseat."

"Poor Tara. She must be embarrassed," Howard the Duck pipes to Jessica's left. He sits sullenly in the soggy sand.

"I'm embarrassed too," Gocking laments, "I let you guys down when I let the bogus Grim Reaper take me down."

"Don't be down," states Spider-Woman, "You are not the most humiliated hero this day." She seemingly refers to herself in shredded costume and scraped skin.

However, the Web-Lady points down the beach to an unconscious trio washed ashore in their undies. Walter "Stingray", Patsy Walker, and "Tiger Shark" Todd lie lethargically under the sun and just above the surf that could suck them back out to sea. Perhaps, Tiger Shark (or any of them) might not mind getting away.

Spider-Woman rises stiffly and sorely. "I suppose," she sighs, "We heroes should help."

Porcupine follows his boss's good lead and goes to get the two conked Avengers. Roger comments, "You would think seven heroes could have handled this situation."

"You would think one She-Hulk would have done," Jess replies.