VIII. Misdirection

Harry Osborn was practically skipping for joy once the press-conference had ended. He dashed up to Peter and said, "Can you believe it, Pete? Can you believe this guy?"

Norman followed calmly behind his son, smug and self-assured, as always.

Peter was still just kind of stunned. "He… faked his death…"

"You'd better believe it," laughed Harry. "I mean, I get why he couldn't tell anyone. He had to protect me, protect the company, but… aw, I just don't care! My dad's alive… and he's not the Goblin!"

I wouldn't be so sure of that, Harry, thought Peter. Nevertheless, he forced a smile and said, "That's great, man. I'm really happy for you."

"Peter Parker," said Norman Osborn. "Here with the Bugle, I see. And you are?" Norman glanced in Ned's direction but didn't offer his hand or any other friendly gesture.

"Ned Leeds, Daily Bugle. Do you mind if I ask you one quick question, Mr. Osborn?"

"Fire away."

Leeds took out a memo pad and pencil. "The Green Goblin hasn't been seen in months. Do you think we've seen the last of him? Or do think that he's been lying low, waiting for you to come out of hiding?"

"I can't begin to speculate on what that madman will do next," said Osborn dismissively. "Now if you'll excuse me, we have quite the drive ahead of us to get home. Peter, would you like to ride with us?"

"I already sent a car for Gwen and MJ," added Harry. "We might as well ride together and meet them there."

"Yeah… sure, sounds great," said Peter. He realized that he was doing a very poor job of putting on a good face, but he couldn't help it.

Being within ten feet of Norman Osborn made his spider-sense twitch constantly.

• • •

The drive to the Osborn manor was long and tense. Peter tried to cover for his nervousness by making like a reporter and asking Norman for a few more quotes on the record. He lobbed softball questions and got well-rehearsed, canned answers back. Norman was as calm and collected as ever, while Harry spent the whole time basking in the presence of his back-from-the-dead dad.

When Osborn's Rolls-Royce pulled up to the front steps of the mansion that evening, Peter stepped out to see a chauffeur helping Mary Jane and Gwen Stacy exit a limousine. At the sight of these two girls, Peter's jaw dropped. MJ looked absolutely stunning in a floor-length, black sequined ball-gown. But then, there was Gwen Stacy, wearing a similar gown of ice-blue. Gwen Stacy. In a dress. Peter never imagined he'd see that in a million years.

"Well, I'd better go inside and greet my guests," said Norman. "I'll leave you to your little girlfriends."

As Norman walked off, Harry said to Pete, "That's probably the last he'll talk to us all night." Harry Osborn didn't care, though. He had a new appreciation for what an important man his father was—and what his time was worth. Besides, now that he was back, there was all the time in the world for them to reconnect.

Mary Jane walked straight up to Peter and struck a model's pose. "Well, Tiger, what do you think? How does little MJ clean up?"

Peter didn't have words. "Guh—buh—wuh…"

Gwen laughed aloud. "Nice job, Red. You broke Petey." Then she turned to Harry and said, "I've got to admit, Osborn, you were right. When your freakin' limo pulled up to our house, my dad figured that he didn't have a choice and just had to let me go. Classiest way to get a girl off being grounded ever."

Harry offered an arm to Gwen, to escort her inside. "Shall we?"

"Sure thing, Slick," said Gwen, taking Harry's arm.

Once they were out of earshot, Mary Jane said, "Your turn, Mr. Super-Hero. Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"MJ," stammered Peter, "you look—just—you, uh—wow."

MJ giggled and took Peter's arm. "I got that when you were sputtering syllables."

• • •

Norman Osborn's "comeback" party was a swanky high-society scene. Influential businessmen and politicians were present and accounted for. There were even a few scattered celebrities. Peter right away noticed that even J. Jonah Jameson was here, mingling with the upper crust. In fact, Jameson noticed Peter at the very same instant. "Parker!" he barked. "Perfect—do you have your camera? Get a photo, now!"

Jameson got the attention of several businessmen and philanthropists around him and somehow got all of them to turn and face Peter and MJ. Peter shrugged, pulled out his camera, and adjusted the shot for a wide angle. There was Jameson in the middle, next to Anastasia Hardy and Norman Osborn. Wilson Fisk took up quite a lot of the shot. Then Peter swallowed. L. Thompson Lincoln—Tombstone himself—was also in the shot, next to the politician, Sam Bullit.

"Parker!" hissed Jameson through smiling teeth. "Any day now!"

Peter snapped a few shots and then put down his camera and nodded to J.J., signaling that he'd gotten what he needed. With that, Jameson went back to schmoozing, and Peter was able to turn his full attention back to Mary Jane.

"Are we off the clock now, Pete?"

"I'm all yours, Red."

MJ grinned. "Just the way I like it."

Arm in arm, they walked over to a long table with a punch-blow and crystal glasses, where Harry was busy ladling out drinks for himself and Gwen. "…I guess this is sort of like a prom for rich, old folks," Gwen was saying. "Of course, you'd never catch me dead at a school prom. It just wouldn't mesh with the rep I'm trying to build."

"Really?" said Harry. "I thought maybe I could change your mind about that."

Gwen chuckled at that and said to Peter and MJ, "Look at Mr. Slick over here, trying to be a player. Harry, I thought you were all over that one cheerleader what's-her-name, the Allan girl."

Harry handed Gwen a cup of punch and said suavely, "Maybe I'm just trying to keep my options open."

"Oh, well in that case," said Gwen with a roll of her eyes, "on behalf of options everywhere, Mr. Osborn, I'll… keep you in mind too. No promises, of course. This may just be the first and last time that you guys ever get to see me in a getup like this."

"That would be a real shame," said Harry.

Just then, the foursome was interrupted by another girl, roughly their age, who approached the punch table. Her hair was platinum blonde, almost white, and she wore a slinky little black dress that even rivaled MJ's in sheer wow-factor. "Harry?" said the newcomer. "It's been ages!"

Peter was a little stunned by the arrival of this girl, but it wasn't because of her looks. What in the hell? Spider-sense… because of her?

MJ cleared her throat and elbowed Peter, who coughed and said, "Uh, Harry, do you want to introduce us?"

"Oh, right. Guys, this is Felicia Hardy. Felicia, these are my friends from Midtown: Gwen, Peter, and Mary Jane."

Peter snapped his fingers and said "Wait a minute, you're Anastasia Hardy's daughter, aren't you?"

"You know my mother?" asked Felicia.

"Well, I know of her," said Peter. "I mean, the Hardy Foundation funds half the scientific research at ESU."

"Yes, it does. It's all very… interesting, I guess," said Felicia in a voice positively dripping with boredom. "Say, Harry, why don't we go someplace quieter and catch up on old times?"

Harry looked over at Gwen, who shrugged and said, "Go on, Slick. Have fun. I'll stay here and hang out with 'interesting' for a while."

With that, Harry and Felicia disappeared, leaving Gwen alone with MJ and Peter. She turned to her two remaining friends and said, "At least you guys still love me, right?"

MJ was about to answer Gwen, when Peter pointed into the crowd and said, "Hey, look over there. Isn't that Johnny Storm?"

"No way!" said Gwen. "The Human Torch? If I get to meet him tonight, that will totally make my week!"

"You should go over and say hi," said Peter.

"I think I will," said Gwen. "He's literally the hottest guy in the world! Uh, ya know, because of the whole 'flame on' thing… anyway, I'm gonna… yeah." Gwen ambled over towards where Johnny was standing, while Peter and MJ followed behind at a respectable distance.

"So," whispered MJ, "Does the Torch know about your… you know?"

"What?" Peter whispered back, surprised. "No! I mean, you are the only person in the world who knows about my… that."

"Have you ever met him, then? As You-Know-Who?"

"Twice," said Peter. "The first time, we… kind of fought to draw. Bit of a misunderstanding. The second time it was a proper team-up. Back in the summer, during the whole alien invasion thing."

MJ nodded. "Cool."

By now, they caught up to Gwen, who had most definitely caught Johnny Storm's eye. "Well, hello gorgeous!" he was saying. "You have just got to be the best thing that's happened to me all night."

"Night's still young, Hot Stuff," she shot back. "The name's Gwen."

"Johnny," he said, taking Gwen's hand to kiss it. "But I guess you already knew that." Then he pointed at Peter and MJ. "And these would be… star-struck friends of yours?"

Gwen glanced over at her friends and nodded. "Mary Jane Watson and Peter Parker," she introduced.

Johnny took Peter's hand in friendly handshake and said, "Nice to meetcha… say… Parker. Parker. You seem familiar; have we met?"

Peter indicated the camera still hanging around his neck and said, "Maybe. I'm a news photographer."

"Right! You're the guy who takes pix of the Webhead! Hey, the next time you see Spidey, can you tell him that I'd like a friendly rematch?"

Peter was about to answer, when suddenly the glass-and-steel domed ceiling of the Osborn mansion's ballroom gave way. Glass shards fell like rain, party guests screamed and scrambled for cover, and everything went to hell.

• • •

The newly-blasted gaping hole in the ceiling filled up with a cloud of green vapor, and maniacal laughter echoed through. A devilish, raspy, high-pitched voice called out: "Osborn! You simpering, cowardly fool! Did you really think that you could hide from me?"

Peter couldn't believe his eyes. Norman Osborn was cowering on the floor with the rest of his party-guests; he looked genuinely terrified. And when the Green Goblin emerged from that cloud of smoke to hover over the bedlam, there was no mistaking his glider, his purple armor, or his diabolical green mask. It was the genuine article, no mistake. How… how could I have gotten it so wrong? Did the Goblin really have us all fooled, this whole time? Just who is this guy?!

Peter quickly scanned the room. Tombstone and J. Jonah Jameson were both near the exit, helping Anastasia Hardy to beat a hasty retreat. Wilson Fisk and several other party guests were lying in the middle of the chamber, near where the chandelier had crashed into the floor. They were all covered in cuts and bruises, most of them unconscious or otherwise incapacitated. Norman was picking his way past a mangled ruin of a table, calling out for his son. "Harry! Where's Harry?"

"Dad?" Harry called from some other corner of the room. "Over here!"

Peter turned to look at MJ and Gwen. "Are you guys okay? Anybody hurt?"

Both girls affirmed that, despite being shaken up, they were uninjured.

"All right, you three stay here," said Johnny. "It was time I taught this creep a lesson. Like, 'how hot does it have to get to burn off an ugly green mask?' FLAME ON!" In an instant, the Human Torch was engulfed in flame, and he levitated up into the air to face the Goblin.

Gwen let out a cheer. "Awesome! Go get him, Hot Stuff!"

Peter took MJ aside and whispered, "Hey, I have to get away to—"

"I know, I know. Go." MJ turned and grabbed Gwen. "Come on, let's go find Harry and that Hardy girl—"

"Okay," said Gwen. "Hey, wait, where's Pete going?"

"Uh, you know," stammered MJ. "Photography… uh, angles? And—composition, or something—"

"Oh, right, duh," said Gwen, swatting herself on the forehead. "Come on, Red, let's go get Mr. Slick before the Goblin kills his dad."

• • •

"Well, well, the Human Matchstick," sneered the Goblin. "I should have known you'd be here."

"You'd better believe it," said Johnny. "Now I'm gonna bring the heat!" He lobbed a few fireballs that the Goblin easily dodged, before focusing his powers into a solid jet of flames. The Goblin merely turned sideways, using his glider as a shield; the flames licked around the sides of it, but otherwise they bounced harmlessly off.

It was then that Peter chose to make his appearance, casually dangling upside-down from a web-line next to where the Torch hovered. "Hey, Hot-Head. Is this a private party, or can any super-hero join in?"

Johnny smirked. "Should've figured you'd show up."

Spidey shrugged. "Yeah, well, you know. I'm a pest that way."

"One that I'm only too happy to exterminate," growled the Goblin. He tossed a few pumpkin-grenades their way before launching a razor-bat at the web holding Spidey up. Spidey was quick to spin another web and swing from the ceiling, turning in mid-air to catch the grenades before they could land on the party-guests. The grenades, suspended in a web-net, went off with their typical puff of green gas, followed by an explosion that sounded like a mocking parody of a human scream—aah!—aah! Nevertheless, the blasts were strong enough to shake the columns supporting the rest of the ceiling.

"He's gonna bring the whole place down!" shouted Johnny. "I'll hold him off, you get the people out of here!"

"Right!" said Spidey, who swung down to help the injured.

The Goblin cackled madly and spun a lazy loop-the-loop on is glider. "For everything there is a season," he half-sang, half-croaked, "and Gobby wants the Osborns dead… so what if I've taken leave of reason? I'm going to take the Torch's head! Hehehehoohoohahahaah!" As he laughed, he dove his glider at Johnny, and he really seemed to be aiming to slice through his neck with the glider's razor-sharp, bat-winged edges. Johnny dodged aside, but the Goblin merely doubled back and activated one of the myriad gadgets at his disposal, blasting a cone of whitish vapor all over the Human Torch… which put out his flame and sent him careening down to the floor, coughing and choking.

"Let that be a lesson, kids," snickered the Goblin, facing an imaginary fourth wall and addressing nobody but the voices in his own head. "A fire extinguisher is much more effective than 'stop, drop, and roll'. Hehehehehe!"

The Goblin's monologue was cut short by a web sticking to the bottom of his glider. Peter, down on the ground, planted his feet firmly—even using his spider-powers to stick there—and pulled, hard, tugging the glider right out from under the Goblin's feet. Taken by surprise, the Goblin screamed as inertia carried him straight into one of the ballroom's marble columns. Then he slid all the way down to the floor with a loud, cartoonish squeeeeeek, even leaving a goblin-shaped impression in the column where he'd impacted it. The glider didn't merely stop, though. It kept powering through the air, turning in twists and spirals, while Spidey remained firmly stuck to the floor… that is, until the glider made for the hole in the ceiling.

"Whoa, Nelly!" cried Pete, hanging onto his webbing for dear life. The goblin-glider sailed off into the air, high into the sky, up, up, up, and still Peter hung on. His muscles bulged, and his webbing stretched to its limit. One strand finally snapped, and then another, and another… and then the whole web broke. Peter fell backwards and landed on his butt, probably bruising his tailbone. The glider now spun around in the sky and headed back to the ballroom.

Laughing madly, the Green Goblin rose to his feet amongst the debris on the ballroom floor. With one finger on his wrist, he was controlling the glider remotely. In seconds flat, that most formidable device was back in the room and Goblin was once again upon it. Spider-Man stood up, ready for any attack that the Goblin might launch his way… but not for what he actually did.

The Goblin pointed one green-gloved hand at Norman Osborn and the other party guests. "Surrender, Spider-Man! Or someone dies tonight!"

Peter stood fast, fists up. "What do you want, Gobby?"

Finally seeming to muster his courage, Norman Osborn stepped in front of the crowd. "Yes, Goblin, what do you want?" he asked. "Money? Revenge? What's your purpose here?"

The Goblin fired the beam-gun concealed in his glove, aiming at the floor before Osborn's feet. Norman jumped back and cried out in surprise as the laser-blast blew a small crater in the floor. "Now, now, this is no time to suddenly develop a nasty case of backbone!" said the Goblin. "What do I want? Why… don't you know? Goblins… just want to have fun!" He lifted up into the air a few feet and came down in between Osborn and the rest of the party guests… where, Peter realized to his horror, MJ and Gwen were crouched next to Harry.

"I just want a little playmate," said the Goblin, sailing over the heads of the frightened people. He paused, hovering over Harry Osborn. "Your son, perhaps? A bit cliché." He started pointing at random people, counting them off. "Eenie… meenie… miney… Hey, Moe!" In a blur of motion, he swooped down and grabbed Mary Jane by the wrist. She screamed. The Goblin lifted her up off the ground by one arm and dangled her out in front of him. "Hello, my dear! You'll do… for now."

Peter let out a scream of his own, a pained cry: "NOOOOO!" He ran across the floor and made ready to swing up into the air, just as the Goblin, Mary Jane held fast in his arms, rocketed for the hole in the ceiling. He had to catch them, had to stop the Goblin, had to… click. Click-sputter-click. His web-shooters… the left was empty already, and the right spat out a two-foot strand of wet web-fluid before it died too.

Peter looked over at Johnny, who was only now coming to, and skidded to a halt. "Torch!" he yelled. "The Goblin—you have to go after him! He's got—he's got her!" Panicked, Peter was fumbling to change the fluid cartridges in his web-shooters, while at the same time trying to prod the Human Torch into action.

Johnny shook his head, tried to clear away the fuzzy feeling in his brain. "Flame on!" It didn't work. He tried again. This time, he got a few small tongues of flame springing up from his shoulders and his hands. The third attempt finally called forth his full powers, and he shot up into the air… but by the time he was past the ceiling and up in the sky, it was simply too late.

The Green Goblin had vanished… and he had taken Mary Jane Watson with him.