XII. Implosion

The inside of the warehouse had been outfitted with a large, semi-circular table, arranged in such a way that all the seats faced an auction block and podium. Doctor Octopus, known to his underlings as "the Master Planner", had taken the center seat at the table. Behind him stood four henchmen in helmeted hazard-suits. To Ock's right sat Tombstone, fidgeting impatiently, occasionally casting disdainful glances at his competition. He clearly didn't think much of the present company. Tombstone had bodyguards as well; these looked almost like Secret Service agents, in black suits and neckties, with opaque shades and earpieces. And then there was Hammerhead, seated at Doc Ock's left and looking every bit like a classic 1920s mobster (or maybe something out of a Dick Tracy comic) in his blue pinstripe suit. The Enforcers stood nearby, chatting casually about their latest parole hearing.

The door to the warehouse opened one final time, and in strode two figures: Scarlet Spider and a strange, masked man in a beastlike green costume. As they walked toward the auction block together, Fancy Dan couldn't help but open his mouth: "Hey, what is this? That chick looks like a Spider-Man… er, Spider-Chick!"

"Sit down and shaddup," said Hammerhead to his flunky. "She's why we're here. Whoever wins this auction gets to walk away with their very own super-powered spider-bitch."

"Whoa…" said Dan, awestruck by the notion.

"Never mind that," said Tombstone loudly, standing up from his seat and addressing the man in green. "I don't like surprises, and I don't know who you are. We were expecting Osborn's assistant again."

"Mr. Menken couldn't make it," replied the stranger, his voice high and mocking. "So I'll be your master of ceremonies for this evening. You may call me the Jackal!" He chortled a creepy little laugh and began to stalk his way around the table, behind the backs of the crime-lords and their bodyguards. "You've been called here tonight because my employer has produced another super-mercenary—our finest work yet. Observe: the Scarlet Spider. She has all of Spider-Man's powers… his strength, his speed, wall-crawling and web-shooting!"

Doctor Octopus smiled and said, "I am highly gratified to notice that she in fact lacks the original arachnid's most annoying feature: she has yet to utter a single obnoxious word!" And, indeed, this was the case. While the Jackal was stalking around and making his sales-pitch, Scarlet Spider had moved up onto the auction-block, where she now stood, ramrod-straight and silent as the grave.

"Nor will she, unless you demand it," said the Jackal. "That's the best part of all! Scarlet Spider is completely under my control. Thanks to the wonders of hypnotic programming, she's not even really aware that she is the Scarlet Spider! But whoever here is willing and able to outbid his fellows… will be given her secret identity, and the hypnotic trigger-words which activate her."

"Huh," said Hammerhead. "Like a sort of… 'Manchurian candidate' type thing, is that how it works?"

"Essentially," said the Jackal, "but far more sophisticated. Her master has near-complete control over her actions, until she's sent on a mission, in which case she's able to act autonomously, as needed."

"Well that can't be worth all that much," said Hammerhead. "I hear tell you sent her after the Big Man… but Spider-Man got there first, and Foswell got away scot-free."

"Yes, I had hoped you'd mention that," snarled the Jackal, who now crept up behind Hammerhead. With one swift motion, he swiped a clawed hand at Hammerhead's back. Sparks crackled from the claws, and Hammerhead was thrown forward onto the table, where he remained, rendered motionless by the Jackal's paralyzing weapon.

Instantly, everyone was on their feet and ready defend against an attack. Tombstone's rock-hard fists were up, and his bodyguards had pistols drawn. Doc Ock's henchmen had blaster rifles of some kind, which they now trained on everybody else in the room (although Ock himself remained calmly seated at the table, hiding a wry smile behind steepled fingers). The Enforcers made ready to tackle the Jackal… but before they could, the Jackal whistled. "Scarlet Spider," he instructed, cocking a thumb at the Enforcers, "if you would."

Scarlet Spider sprang off the auction block, turned a flip in midair, and landed next to the Jackal. She very quickly sprayed a mass of webs all over the Enforcers, gumming them to the floor. And while the imitation webbing that Osborn and Warren had invented wasn't quite tough enough to restrain a foe with super-strength, it was more than enough to contain the likes of Montana, Ox, and Fancy Dan.

"I don't believe this shit," muttered Dan while he struggled underneath the net of webbing. "Second freaking time this week!"

"Danny-boy, just… just shut yer gall-dern mouth fer once," grumbled Montana.

• • •

It was just about then that Spider-Man and Black Cat had managed to sneak their way into the warehouse through an open window and conceal themselves in the shadows of the steel rafters overhead. They witnessed the Jackal's sneak-attack on Hammerhead and Scarlet Spider's subsequent subduing of the Enforcers. But Black Cat motioned for Spider-Man to remain where he was. She wanted to listen in further, to find out what was going to happen next. Spidey was pretty curious about that too. So they waited, and they eavesdropped.

• • •

"There is no cause for alarm!" said the Jackal. "I'm merely exacting just retribution for a betrayal. Gentlemen, we have a traitor in our midst… or, perhaps, a better word would be 'saboteur'."

"Whatever do you mean, Mr. Jackal?" asked Doc Ock, still sitting calmly, his expression an unreadable mask behind his tinted glasses.

The Jackal explained, "While it is true that my employer had intended to demonstrate Scarlet Spider's effectiveness by tracking down and eliminating Frederick Foswell, that scheme failed, in no small part because of our steel-pated friend here." The Jackal knocked on Hammerhead's head to accentuate the point. "He was no doubt instructed to tip Foswell off by the Kingpin."

"Why?" growled Tombstone. He was still on edge, suspecting that a trap might be sprung at any moment.

"To drive down my asking price, I should imagine," said the Jackal with a shrug. "It's no matter, though. I trust you've all seen enough by now to realize Scarlet Spider's value."

"Maybe," said Tombstone. "But I'm only really interested… if she can be more than a match for Spider-Man."

"But… didn't you know?" giggled the Jackal. "The female spider is far stronger than the male of the species." Here, he gestured to Scarlet Spider, who walked over to a stack of steel crates occupying a corner of the warehouse—they must have weighed a couple of tons—and she lifted them up over her head, easily.

"A most impressive display," said Doctor Octopus. "Shall we get down to business, then?"

"In just a moment," said the Jackal. "First we must deal with this piece of rubbish." He reached over the table and picked up Hammerhead by the front of his jacket. "Gentlemen, what do you suppose would be a fair price for the life of this treacherous worm? How about… the identity of the Kingpin?!"

"What a splendid proposal," said Doc Ock. "Agreed."

"I have to admit… I'd like to know that as well," said Tombstone.

Up in the rafters, Spidey and Cat looked at each other, hardly believing their good luck. They too were very interested in this little nugget of information. It wasn't time to crash the party just yet.

As for Hammerhead, he had been paralyzed by the Jackal's stun-weapon, but fear for his life now sent enough adrenaline into his system that he started to regain some motor-function. "I—I can't…" he managed to choke out. "He'll… kill me…"

"Ah, but if you don't…" said the Jackal, tossing Hammerhead (as easily as one might toss a rag-doll) over to Scarlet Spider, "I'll order her to snap your neck!"

Hammerhead's eyes went wide. This psychopath really meant what he said. "Okay… okay… but I'll need protection. For me and my boys."

"Your safety guaranteed, if the information you supply is accurate," said the Jackal.

"All right. It's… Fisk. Wilson Fisk is the Kingpin."

"Fisk!" said Tombstone, slamming a fist onto the table and nearly cracking it in half. "I might've known… that sneaky son of a bitch!"

"I must confess some surprise," said Octavius. "Here, I'd always thought that Wilson Fisk was nothing more than an exceptionally shrewd businessman who engaged in philanthropy to improve his public image… not unlike yourself, Mr. Lincoln. It would appear that the two of you have more in common than you might care to admit."

"There is one thing that sets us apart," said Tombstone. "Fisk is a rich, old, fat man who hides behind cronies. Whereas I'm practically indestructible! When I get my hands on him—wait, Jackal, what are you doing?!"

The Jackal had meanwhile activated a wrist-mounted communicator, and now he spoke into it: "The operation has been a success. Feel free to make an entrance now."

And then the roof exploded.

• • •

Spider-sense saved the lives of Spider-Man and Black Cat. Perceiving imminent danger, Spidey grabbed his momentary partner and dove away from the roof, just as a pumpkin-missile slammed into the corrugated tin above them, exploding with a humanlike scream and a puff of green gas. The Spider and the Cat flew down to the floor of the warehouse, where they landed hard enough be stunned, right amidst the assembly of very surprised criminals. Even Otto Octavius was alarmed by the appearance of Spider-Man: "The arachnid!" he growled, rising up on his four metallic arms and preparing to strike. Debris fell from the ceiling, some it landing on a few of the henchmen and bodyguards still standing in the background. Those underlings who remained standing either pointed their guns at Spider-Man on the floor, or at the hellish sounds coming from the roof.

Laughter howled from overhead, and the Green Goblin astride his glider slowly descended into the warehouse through the hole created by his missile. "Oh, my; uninvited guests," he said, noticing Spidey and Cat. "How very unexpected."

"That's it!" shouted Tombstone. "I've had it with this! Spider-Man showing up is bad enough, but you, Goblin—that's one surprise too many. Jackal, this deal is off. I'm out."

"Oh, my dear Mr. Lincoln, haven't you realized it yet?" mocked Gobby. "There is no deal. No auction. It was all just an elaborate setup!" He swooped down past Scarlet Spider so that he could squeeze her cheeks. "I have no intention of parting with my sweet little Miss Scarlet. She's far too valuable to simply sell off."

"All of this… to trap Hammerhead?" asked Tombstone in disbelief. "To find out who the Kingpin is?"

"Well… yes!" said the Goblin, throwing his hands up into the air and twirling a pirouette on his glider. "That, and to unite the remaining crime-lords against him. What do you say, Tombey? Are you in… or are you out?" Gobby held up a pumpkin grenade and switched it on, leaving no room to misinterpret the fact that "out" was synonymous with "dead".

At that moment, Spider-Man finally got back onto his feet, and he helped Black Cat to rise. Both were shaking their heads, trying to get the ringing out of their ears following the explosion.

"We'll take care of this," said the Jackal, snapping his fingers and bringing Scarlet Spider to attention. "Please do proceed with the negotiations!" Then Jackal leapt at Black Cat, and Scarlet dove at Spidey, and the lot of them were all caught up in a four-way battle-royale of claw-swipes and web-shots.

"Well, Tombstone, what'll it be?" sneered Gobby. "Your loyalty or your life?"

"I didn't spend years of my life working my way out from under Foswell's thumb, just to exchange one lieutenancy for another!" Tombstone shouted. "Come and get me, Goblin… if you think you can!"

That was when Tombstone felt four metal claws grip his arms and hold him tight. Even with his own impressive strength, he found himself powerless in the grasp of Doctor Octopus. "What is this?" he demanded.

"Well done, Doctor Octopus!" said the Green Goblin, cackling merrily.

Tombstone was almost too shocked to struggle. "You—you're with him?"

"You needn't be so completely flabbergasted," said Octavius in condescension. "Despite what you might have heard, I have no lust for power. I've turned to organized crime for but one purpose: to fund my scientific research. To that end, I'm not so proud that I won't defer to a leader who, while not my intellectual equal, has occasionally proven himself my superior in ruthlessness and cunning."

"From you, Mister 'Master Planner', that's high praise indeed!" giggled the Goblin.

"Now, Mr. Lincoln," said Ock, "I believe that the new Big Man of Crime has something very important to tell you. I suggest you listen well."

The Green Goblin crouched down on his glider and lowered himself so that he was at eye-level with Tombstone. With absolute precision, he hovered close to Tombstone and whispered in his ear, "You'd better play ball, Lincoln, or someone you love will pay. I know where to find your daughter."

"Goblin, you scum!" growled Tombstone. "No man has ever threatened my family and lived!"

"Well, there's always a first time for everything," said Gobby in a sing-song voice. Then he grew serious, his voice deepening and taking on a more human, more commanding quality. (Indeed, he now sounded more like Norman Osborn than the Green Goblin.) "So let me be very, very clear: your gangs, your territories, and the usual cut of your ill-gotten profits… will go to me. And if you even think of crossing me, Tombstone," he pointed a thumb at his own chest, "the next time this Goblin goes 'bump' in the night, it will really be the sound of little Janice Lincoln hitting the ground after I've tossed her off the George Washington bridge. Do we understand one another?"

"All right," said Tombstone through sharp, gritted teeth. "You win… for now. But mark my words: one day soon, I will find out who you really are, and when I do—"

"Yes, yes, threats, violence, retribution, heard it all before," said Gobby dismissively. "Save it until after Fisk has been dealt with, hmm?"

At that moment, the crime-lords' little tête-à-tête was interrupted by a deafening crash. Spider-Man had managed to web up Scarlet Spider for the time being, freeing him to assist Black Cat in taking on the Jackal. A solid kick from Spidey had sent the Jackal flying into a stack of metal storage-crates, and now the stacks of boxes lining the edges of the warehouse were all teetering precariously, like great big wobbly dominoes, waiting to fall.

"Gentlemen, perhaps we should consider rearranging our priorities," suggested Doc Ock. "Spider-Man first; the Kingpin second. Surely we can set aside our bickering long enough to take advantage of our superior numbers in this most fortuitous situation." He released Tombstone and turned to confront the pair of would-be heroes.

"Now you're talking sense, Octavius," said Tombstone. He removed his suit-jacket, stretched his arms, and cracked his knuckles. "If we can end the Spider tonight, then at least one good thing will have come out of this debacle."

The Green Goblin turned his glider towards Spidey and Cat. He held pumpkin grenades in both hands, and missiles and razor-bats protruded from slots in his glider, waiting to be fired. Scarlet Spider finally snapped the webbing holding her in check, using nothing more than her impressive strength, and she too started closing in. The Jackal stood up and dusted himself off; he seemed barely injured from the walloping that he'd just taken from Spidey.

The villains attempted to surround our heroes, who stood back to back, inching towards a rear exit in a far corner of the warehouse.

"There's no egress from this scenario, arachnid," taunted Octavius.

"Nowhere you can run, and nowhere you can hide," added the Goblin, who flew up high to cut off an escape through the roof.

The Jackal raised up a clawed glove, sparks flying from the fingertips. "I'm a little new at this… but I can already tell that I'm really going to enjoy it."

Black Cat glanced over her shoulder at Sipdey. "Well, this entirely sucks. Any brilliant ideas?"

"Not really," he answered. "I don't suppose you've got any of that bad luck mojo up your sleeve?"

Cat's eyes widened in realization. "That's it!" She pointed at a nearby stack of crates and said, "Kick there, when I tell you… now!"

She and Spidey both leapt at the closest crate and delivered a powerful double kick to it. The wobbling pile of storage-bins stacked on top of it tilted back one way, and then the other, and finally they came toppling over—one particularly heavy crate tumbling off the top of the stack and landing directly on the Green Goblin, knocking him out of the air, while the rest of the stack crashed into the next one over and set off a warehouse-wide chain reaction. The Goblin, the Jackal, Doc Ock, Tombstone, Scarlet Spider… they all possessed some measure of superhuman strength, but even they were hard-pressed to avoid being battered and crushed by the sheer volume of tonnage now falling on them from all directions.

In the middle of the confusion, the Spider and the Cat beat a hasty retreat out the warehouse's back door. As they fled, Cat called out over her shoulder, "Black Cat crossed your path…!"

• • •

Beaten, burned, sliced, scraped, and sporting a few new holes in his costume, Spider-Man alighted on the roof of a skyscraper. Black Cat was close behind; she too looked more than a little worse for the wear. Once they had both rested long enough to catch their breath, Spidey sat down on the edge of the building and said, "That did not go down like we planned."

"Does it ever?" asked Cat, sitting down next to him and cozying up close.

"No, not really, I guess," said Spidey. "God, I have just had it up to here with these nut-jobs and crooks! First there's a female me running around, and now we have this Jackal person to deal with? I'm totally gonna lose it over here!"

"Whoever they are, they sure can fight," said Black Cat. "I've got the cuts and bruises to prove it."

"The Jackal was like a freaking wild animal," affirmed Spider-Man. "It almost reminded me of Kraven the Hunter."

Black Cat rubbed her sore jaw and said, "That Scarlet Spider packs a mean right hook. But… she fights like a robot. Her heart wasn't really in it."

"Yeah, I noticed that," said Spider-Man. "This is just a theory, but, based on what we overheard, I think the Jackal was controlling Scarlet Spider with some kind of, like, brainwashing or hypnosis or something. It's possible that…" Spider-Man's voice trailed off, and for a few moments he was lost in thought.

"What is it?" asked Black Cat, once her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

"…No way," whispered Spidey.

"Is something the matter?"

"I… no. It's just a hunch, but I think I might know who Scarlet Spider is!" Spider-Man stood up and punched a fist into his palm. "I really hope I'm wrong about this, but if I'm not… she… I've gotta go!" Losing no time, Spidey fired off a web-line and made ready to swing off.

"Wait!" said Cat. "Let me come with you—"

"Sorry, Cat. Not this time." As he swung away, he called back, "This is just between us spiders!"

Black Cat sat back down on the side of rooftop and blew a loose strand of whitish hair out of her face. "Ditched again, go figure. Pretty soon I'm going to start taking this personally."