With Great Power Comes Great Leverage

Chapter 2

The funeral was large. Many people had called Ben Parker a friend. Most of them extended offers of help to May, and she was grateful. Peter could only feel miserable, and it was all he could do not to break down. He felt so incredibly frustrated. He wanted to rail against the universe. He wanted to stand up and confess. He wanted to do something more, something to make up for his mistake, but he didn't know what.

When the graveside service was done, Peter helped Aunt May back to the car. A man in a tailored suit was waiting at the car for them.

"May I help you?" asked May, politely.

"Perhaps I can help you," he said. "First, my sincere condolences on the loss of your husband, Mrs. Parker."

"Thank you," she said.

"Secondly, this," he said, handing her a business card.

"Fisk Industries," read May. She dropped the card on the wet ground. "I hardly think my husband's funeral is the appropriate moment for this."

"You have almost no savings, Mrs. Parker," said the man. "We can help you, and give you sufficient funds so that you can live your life in a modicum of comfort. I honestly do wish you had accepted my employer's offer. Again, my condolences." He turned and walked away.

"The nerve of that man," said Aunt May. "Peter, get in the car. We're going home."

Peter said nothing for most of the drive, but then had to break the silence.

"Aunt May," he began, "I've saved up some money from doing odd jobs and things. It's yours if you need it."

"Peter, that is very sweet of you," she replied, "but despite what the horrible man said, we are not running out of money."

"I just want to help out," said Peter. "I know what's happening, Aunt May. I read the letters that Fisk Industries sent. They're trying to repossess every home and business in the neighborhood."

"Ben wouldn't have run, and neither will we," May said.

Peter said, "there must be something I can do."

"Something will turn up," said May. They pulled into the driveway. Peter saw an envelope on the front door. He ran up and grabbed it while May opened the door.

"Hand it to me, Peter," she said.

He gave the envelope to her. She opened it, and fell down into a chair.

"What is it?" said Peter, kneeling beside her.

"A foreclosure notice," she said. "But it can't be! It can't!"

There was a knock on the door, and their neighbor, Anna Watson, opened it an poked her head in. She was still dressed in her funeral clothing.

"May, did you… oh, you received one, too."

"Anna? You, too?" asked May.

"I called a few other neighbors," said Anna. "Everyone has one. We've been discussing pooling our resources and hiring a lawyer."

"Fisk would have expensive ones," said Peter. He hated to say it. "He's probably bought his share of judges, too. You know how it is, Aunt May—the rich and powerful take what they want."

"Then what can we do?" asked May.

"There's one possibility," said Anna. "I have a number at home."

"We're not getting in," said Hardison. He got back in the van. "We could easily talk our way in to the lower floors, but getting to the upper floors where Fisk has the most security—that is out of my league."

"Nothing is out of your league, Hardison," said Eliot. "So stop griping and do it."

"There is nothing I would like more than to be the one who breaks that security," said Hardison, "but it's not going to happen. If we try to talk our way in, we'll be escorted off the premises. I'm going out on a limb and just assume they'd shoot us if we caused trouble, and create evidence for the police later. Assuming he hasn't just bought them off."

"It's almost dusk," said Parker. "I'll climb up. The building hasn't been designed that can stop me."

Three hours later found Parker running for the van, followed by Eliot. He turned and punched one of the guards who was chasing them, then sprinted after Parker. Hardison pulled up in the van with the side door open, and both of them dove inside.

"That'll be another license plate change," said Hardison.

"Every surface I could place a hook was trapped or watched or… I don't know, motion detectors, cameras, laser grids… I've never seen a building like it. The Smithsonian gem collection isn't that well guarded! I might be able to get inside the lower levels, but I think even the air ducts are on separate systems between the lower and upper floors! I've never seen security that paranoid!"

"What would Nate do in a situation like this?" said Eliot. "If we can't go in one way, there must be another." But no one came up with any ideas as they drove back to their office in silence.

A message waited for them on the phone when they reached their headquarters.

"Hello? My name is May Parker. A friend thought you might be able and willing to help us. Our entire neighborhood is being foreclosed upon by Fisk Industries, and we simply do not know what to do."

Parker picked up the phone, and called back. "Is this May Parker? I represent Leverage Consulting and Associates. Would it be possible to speak with you tomorrow morning? Okay. We will see you then."

"If we can't even get inside the building," said Hardison, "how are we going to help?"

"We'll think of something," said Parker. "First, let's hear what's happening to these people, and then we'll see what we can do."

"I'll get the van's plates changed and paint it a new color." Hardison sighed, then looked at Parker. A smile came, unbidden, to his face. "How does blue sound?"

Parker smiled. "I like blue."

Peter paced back-and-forth in his room upstairs. He'd looked up this "Leverage Consulting and Associates" online, but hadn't found much. They were an old company (Who had consultants in 1913? thought Peter, but he didn't have an answer). They did seem to have a reputation as problem-solvers, but a lot of details were missing, and the stories only dated from a few years back. Peter may not have been a news reporter or a detective, but he watched TV, and he knew that a lack of history was never good.

As a teenager, he hadn't been invited to attend the meeting. His Aunt May, their neighbor Anna Watson, and several of their other neighbors were downstairs in the living room waiting.

Peter saw a car pull up out front, and three people get out—two men and a woman. She seemed familiar — in fact, Peter could've sworn he'd seen them someplace. But where? He heard the doorbell ring, and decided he had to know. He quietly left his room and crawled half-way down the stairs, hanging from the ceiling just out of sight. He lowered himself enough to see with one eye, deciding to trust his new danger sense to alert him is someone looked that direction. Introductions had just finished. The blonde woman—where do I know her from? thought Peter again—was seated with her two associates standing behind her. Aunt May was explaining their situation.

"… so you see, we are all up on our mortgage payments. The Grunberg's actually own their home. None of us are behind on our taxes. But somehow, our homes are about to be repossessed. How is this possible?"

"I did some research," said the tall black man who was standing behind the blonde woman. "It appears that there was a judgment handed down by a municipal judge, the so-called Honorable Howard Smithers. It was signed late two nights ago. The excuse is an increase in the crime rate—specifically, the murder of your husband, Mrs. Parker." He nodded. "Our condolences, of course."

Aunt May nodded back, with a grim look on her face. "But this is the first crime other than petty theft in years."

The other man, shorter and sporting a ponytail, spoke up. "Like Hardison said, it's an excuse. I spoke to some local lawyers, Nelson and Murdock. While they were reluctant to say anything that might be construed as slander…."

"The judge is dirty," said the blonde woman. "And it is unlikely we could get another judge to overrule it in time. Fisk Industries has either bribed or threatened a great many people."

"But… but… it's wrong!" said Anna Watson, prompting angry comments from the rest of the neighbors.

The blonde woman waited for the conversations to die, then spoke.

"People like Fisk, they have all the money, they have all the power and they use it to make people like you go away. Right now you are suffering under an enormous weight. We provide… Leverage."

'With a lever I will move the whole world,' thought Peter, as the old quote from Archimedes came to his mind. But what are they going to do?

His Aunt May echoed his concerns. "Are you… what are you going to do?"

"Everything in our power," said the blonde woman. "We have been looking into Wilson Fisk and his corporations for some time. We will not stop until his sins come home to roost. We have done this kind of thing before."

Anna Watson spoke. "I hate to mention this, but none of us have very much money."

Ponytail Man smiled. Peter felt like swallowing his tongue — the man had a friendly smile, but there was a hardness behind it that made Peter nervous.

"Don't worry about that," said the man. "We have an… alternate revenue stream for this job. If we could just have one of those foreclosure notices, and any other information you can give us…."

Peter's Spider-Sense flared, and he jerked his head up, and leaped up the staircase and into his room.

He heard voices from downstairs and the front door opening and closing. From his window he saw his neighbors heading for home.

"Where do I know them from?" he said. "I swear I've heard them or seen them or… I don't know."

He sat by the window, deep in thought, watching everyone leave. Finally the Leverage people walked out to their car. Aunt May came into his room a moment later.

"We're done, Peter, dear," she said. "I'm going to make some lunch."

"Sure, Aunt May," he said. He stood up. "I'll help."

When he stood up, he was easily visible in the window. Ponytail Man and the blonde women turned and looked up at him. His eyes grew wide as he suddenly realized where he'd seen them.

"Are you okay, dear?" asked Aunt May.

Peter calmed himself. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said. "Let's go make some of your patented special sandwiches."

His aunt chuckled more than the joke deserved as they walked downstairs, but Peter couldn't stop thinking about the Leverage people.

The blonde… she was in the building. She attacked me! She probably stole the money! And Ponytail… I know he was at the wrestling arena, and maybe the other one was, too. What are they up to?

Peter swore he'd get the answer to that question, and he knew just how to do it.