XXVI. Resolution
Spider-Man and Scarlet Spider stood on a rooftop across the street from the Hardys' penthouse. MJ offered to remain there and keep watch while Peter spoke to Mrs. Hardy; and so he swung across the way and landed on the balcony. He rapped on the glass door; after a while, she appeared. "Spider-Man! I've been waiting. Do you have any information for me?"
"Yes I do," he said. "The person who picked up your briefcase works for the gangster, Hammerhead. And Hammerhead works for the Kingpin—Wilson Fisk!"
Mrs. Hardy became thoughtful. "I know Wilson Fisk… of course I've heard the rumors about him; everyone has; but… Wilson, the Kingpin of Crime?"
"It makes sense when you think about it," said Spidey. "Remember Tombstone's little 'accident' at Fisk Tower?"
"If what you're implying is true, I'm going to have to tread carefully," said Mrs. Hardy. "Thank you for the information, Spider-Man. Now, please, let me handle this. I'm going to have to make a few phone-calls."
"If you think you can handle it," said Spider-Man. Mrs. Hardy didn't reply; she was already going back inside.
That was when Peter heard the sound of fighting on the rooftops nearby.
• • •
Mary Jane watched while Peter swung over to the balcony. When Anastasia Hardy appeared, they began their conversation; and MJ immediately felt her spider-sense tingling. She flipped backwards, just as a fur-trimmed, leather-clad leg came sweeping at her ankles. I love you, spider-sense! she thought.
"Well, well, look who's back," said Black Cat, baring her claws. "Spying on Spider? That's not very nice!"
MJ had been expecting two things from Black Cat: first, that she'd attack on sight; and second, that the banter would start right away. She intended to shut both down immediately. "Why should you care?" she asked, spraying a net of webs. "It's not like you're his girlfriend or anything."
Cat was snared by a few of the sticky strands, but she cut herself free with one deft swipe of her claws. "And how would you know that?"
"Because," said MJ, launching a flying kick at Cat, "I am!"
"Dream on, bug-bitch!" said Cat, diving to the ground and swiping another claw at Scarlet Spider. "You want a cat-fight? You've so got one!"
"No," said MJ, "I really don't." Here, she gripped the wrist-cuff around one of the new web-shooters that Gwen had designed and gave it a quarter-turn. A different fluid-cartridge snapped into place, and MJ launched a little white ball of impact-webbing at Black Cat. The ball hit Cat in the chest and exploded into sticky mass of white goo that knocked her on her backside and plastered her to the rooftop. Then MJ walked over to Black Cat and put one booted foot lightly on her midsection. "Now, let's just wait and see what Spidey says when he gets back, hm?"
Black Cat struggled and swore, but she stopped when Spider-Man landed on the rooftop. "Let her go, Red. We're gonna need her help."
"Fine," said MJ. "But she'd better not try anything." She tore the webs off of Black Cat and helped her to rise.
"What is this?" asked Cat suspiciously. "Spider, what's going on?"
"Okay, how do I explain this?" began Peter. "…Um, okay. Remember when we first fought Scarlet and Jackal together, at the auction? How we thought that she was being mind-controlled?"
Black Cat nodded. "I seem to remember you floating that theory, yes…"
"Well, she was. But she's better now. That's actually kind of a funny story, see, we asked the Fantastic Four to help us out, and they wound up calling Iron Man, so he swung by SHIELD HQ…"
Mary Jane walked over to Peter and put her arm around him. "Maybe skip ahead a little bit, Tiger?"
"Uh, okay, the point is, when I finally unmasked Scarlet Spider, it was somebody that I already knew. It was my next-door neighbor… who is also my girlfriend."
"You mean… she knows who you really are?" said Cat in a small voice.
"She was in on my secret before she ever got powers," said Spidey.
"Because she's your girlfriend," said Cat. "You've had a girlfriend the whole time…"
"Now you're catching on," said MJ smugly.
A look of such forlorn devastation passed over Black Cat's face that Peter actually glared at MJ underneath his mask. Then he said, "Look, Cat, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner; it's just that you're always flirting, and you come on pretty strong, and… I mean, underneath this mask, I'm really kind of a nerd and pretty awkward with people, and so I didn't really know how to let you down without sounding like a schmuck—"
Peter's fumbling apology was cut short when Black Cat started laughing aloud. It was as if she were suddenly struck by a funny thought that only she was privy to, and now she was in hysterics because of it.
"Um… are you okay?" asked Peter.
Cat was doubled over, but she nodded and finally caught her breath. "Yeah… yeah, it's just that… I get it now. It makes sense! All this time, you've been in love with the girl next door. And here, I was thinking that it was something wrong with me… well, either that, or you weren't into girls and my gaydar was way off."
That last remark made MJ crack up. Peter was left standing there uncomfortably, blushing under his mask, the center of unwanted attention. He decided that a quick change of subject would be in order. "So, I hope this doesn't keep us from still teaming up, because, you know, we still have the Kingpin to deal with—"
"What about the Kingpin?" asked Cat.
"He's the one blackmailing your m—Mrs. Hardy," said Peter.
"What?!" cried Cat. "If I know my mother, she'll go straight there and confront him! We have to stop her!" She was actually distressed enough that all thoughts of concealing her own secret identity were forgotten for the moment.
"It's okay," said Peter. "We'll all just swing over there and tell her to sit tight while we deal with Fisk."
"Uh, I don't think that's gonna happen," said MJ. She pointed at the Hardys' penthouse, where all the lights were already off. Even as they spoke, down on the street, Anastasia Hardy was climbing into a yellow taxicab.
"Crap," said Felicia. "Now what do we do?"
"Now we head for Fisk Tower, and hope we can keep Kingpin from tossing your mother out a window," said Peter.
• • •
That night, even as two spiders and a cat raced across the rooftops of Manhattan, Wilson Fisk was sitting in his office on the 87th floor of Fisk Tower, finishing up a late meeting. Spencer Smythe was there, showing off his newest blueprints for the Spider-Slayer; and he'd brought his son Alistair with him, so that he might meet their influential benefactor. Fisk, for his part, seemed just as interested in Alistair as he was in Spencer's designs.
"These blueprints are more than acceptable," said Fisk. "They're perfect. I've already made arrangements for your lab, workers, all the resources you may need. It's all ready and waiting. I want a prototype built as soon as humanly possible."
"In that case, I'll get started first thing tomorrow," said Spencer. "I must admit, Mr. Fisk, I was pleasantly surprised by your… generosity towards me. I find myself eager to get the Slayer into production."
"Good," said Fisk. He turned to Spencer's son and said, "And—Alistair, your father tells me that you're quite the science whiz. Chemistry, computers, advanced math… a regular genius."
Alistair Smythe was nineteen years old, with brown hair that we wore long and messy, and thick, black-rimmed glasses. He wore a t-shirt with a video-game logo and had a laptop computer sitting in his lap at all times—a fact made possible by his confinement to a wheelchair. "Yes. I am," he said curtly. His attitude toward Fisk was neither congenial nor obsequious, quite the opposite of his father.
"If that's the case, there might just be a position for you in my organization," said Fisk. "I don't care about age; just ability. If you're ever in need of a job, don't hesitate to call."
"I'll think about it," said Alistair, intentionally lacing his voice with boredom.
"Well, if that's that, then I suppose we'd best get a move-on," said Spencer. "I'm delighted that everything's in order. Mr. Fisk; it's been a pleasure doing business with you."
"We'll see how your machine works, before I say the same," said Fisk. After that, Hammerhead came into the office, leading a pair of Fisk's armed bodyguards; and these men escorted the Smythes away.
Once they were alone, Kingpin asked Hammerhead, "Have we heard anything from Elektra lately?"
Hammerhead checked his notepad. "Not a thing, boss. I hate to say it, but I think Daredevil might've done her in." He flipped a page and said, "Also, our operations in the Bronx are getting hit by a new vigilante, some guy calling himself Iron Fist. You want we should put someone on him?"
"The Enforcers, I should think," said Kingpin. "And have Mysterio and Tinkerer formulate a plan to draw this Daredevil out into the open. I want him unmasked by the end of the week!"
"You got it, boss," said Hammerhead, writing down a few notes on the Kingpin's orders. "Anything else?"
Before Fisk could reply, the telephone on his desk rang. He answered it, and then hung up. "That's odd," he said to his lieutenant. "Anastasia Hardy just arrived, and she's on her way up to see me right now."
Hammerhead paled. "That's, uh… quite the coincidence, ain't it?"
"Yes, it is," said the Kingpin, glaring.
Hammerhead loosened his collar; then he took out a handkerchief and mopped the sweat off his exaggerated, caveman-like brow.
After a few tense, silent minutes, the elevator opened and Anastasia Hardy strode proudly into the room.
"Anastasia, my dear. Come in. Have a seat," said Fisk.
She didn't sit. "Cut the crap, Wilson. Before I say what I've come here to say, I want you to know this first: I've made arrangements with my lawyers, and if any harm comes to me, or to my family, they'll go to the papers with a story that I'm quite certain you won't want made public."
If Fisk meant to look shocked at Mrs. Hardy's implied accusation, he failed miserably. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"Like hell you don't. Thanks to the efforts of a… private investigator, I've found you out! Why, Wilson? Why blackmail me? It can't be because you need the money!"
Fisk leaned back in his huge leather desk-chair and weighed his words carefully. Finally, he replied, "No; no, it's not because I need the money. It's because you need it. No, I don't want your money, Anastasia. But you do have something else that I want very much."
"Well whatever it is, you won't get it!" said Anastasia. "We're at a stalemate now. If you expose me, I'll expose you—so it's over. The payments stop, or else you're finished."
"Yes, we do seem to be at an impasse," said Fisk with an angry sneer. "But, you should know this: every last dime that I've taken from you, I've put into a Swiss bank account. I haven't touched it. And I'm willing to give you the account number, if you give me what I want."
"So that's your game then, eh?" said Anastasia. "Hold the money over my head, and make me do what you want?"
"When you put it that way… yes," said Fisk. "So here's the deal. Tomorrow evening, at seven sharp, my agent will arrive at your penthouse. He'll ask for some items that you have in your possession—they're of no real value to you, but immeasurable worth to me—and you'll provide him with whatever he asks for. When those items are in my possession, you'll get that account number, and all of your money back, and we can put this whole unpleasant business behind us. What do you say?"
Quivering with anger, Anastasia said, "If I do this, it will make me into your accomplice."
"That goes without saying," said Fisk. "We'll just have to agree to keep each other's secrets in the future. But at least you'll have your money back. No more payments; and no more dipping into Foundation accounts that aren't legally yours."
After a long minute of inner debate, she gave in. "All right. All right, damn you, you'll have it your way."
The Kingpin nodded. "I'm… glad that you can see reason. I trust you don't need an escort to show you the way out?"
In that moment, multiple explosions rocked the upper stories of Fisk Tower. Some of the explosions were accompanied by a distinctive humanlike scream, and clouds of green and orange vapor could be seen descending outside the office windows.
Kingpin leapt into action. He rose from his desk and placed his body between Anastasia and the windows, in order to shield her from danger. "Hammerhead!" he bellowed. "Get her out of here! No harm must come to Mrs. Hardy, she's too integral to my plans!"
"Consider it done," said Hammerhead. He opened the secret door in the wall of Fisk's office and led Mrs. Hardy away.
Fisk walked over to one of the windows and threw it open, straining to see out into the night sky above his tower. "What in the hell is going on out there?" he said to himself.
• • •
Peter, MJ, and Felicia swung on webs and grappling-line over to Fisk Tower. They intended to smash through one of the upper-story windows and confront Wilson Fisk directly. But that never happened. The trio landed on a rooftop next to the Fisk building, and then the distinctive sound a goblin-glider filled the air.
"Oh, no," said Peter. "Not here, not now!"
Mary Jane felt her heart sink into her feet. The Green Goblin was the one villain who truly terrified her—the one foe that she most dreaded the thought of ever having to face again. "I'll kill him," she said, though her voice lacked conviction. "If the Green Goblin comes after us, I swear, I'll kill him this time."
"Didn't the Green Goblin give you your powers?" asked Black Cat.
"Yeah," said MJ. "Then he took over my mind and murdered my parents."
"In that case, I'll help you kill him," said Cat frankly.
Peter scanned the skies until he spotted the vapor-trail that followed in the wake of the glider. The goblin was heading right for them. He sailed over their heads, a deep and disturbing laugh floating on the air behind him, and then he settled into a circular flight-path around the tower-top. When he swooped in close again, Peter got a good look this time, and he saw that the goblin's color-scheme was a little… off. "Hold the phone," he said to his friends. "The Green Goblin's looking a little… not-so-green these days."
The goblin likewise spotted the masked heroes and turned his glider their way. He came to a hovering stop in the air above them and said, "Spider-Man?! What are you doing here? Nobody invited you!"
"And you are?" Spidey asked.
"If you must know, I'm the Hobgoblin." He waved his hands away and said, "Now… go catch a fly or something. I've got a meeting that I don't need you hero-types crashing."
"Wait!" said Mary Jane. "That's a goblin-glider! Do you work for the Green Goblin?"
"Work for him?" sneered Hobgoblin. "I despise that smarmy son of a bitch! That's why I'm out here; I'm going to show him what a real goblin can do!"
"That's funny, coming from a second-rate knockoff!" said an all-too-familiar, high-pitched, mocking voice. The Green Goblin rose up from between the skyscrapers, his glider silently lifting him straight up into the air. He already had two glowing pumpkin-grenades in hand. "And by the way," he added as an afterthought, "kaboom!" He threw the grenades, one at Hobgoblin and the other at Spider-Man.
Hobgoblin dodged easily; that bomb sailed past him and exploded over Fisk Tower. Spidey, Scarlet, and Cat all scattered to avoid the other blast. Then they grouped up again with their backs together, forming an outward-facing circle so that they could keep an eye on both goblins.
"Do we have a plan?" asked Cat.
"Uh… stay out of their way and hope they kill each other?" suggested Spidey.
"Works for me," said MJ.
Now Hobgoblin was firing his glider's machine-guns at Green Goblin, who weaved through the air and tossed razor-bats. They split off into two different directions and then turned and faced each other. Green Goblin pointed his finger at Hobgoblin and said, "Draw, partner!" Then, with a mad cackle, he fired his glove's sparkler-beam. Hobgoblin matched his foe, and the two laser-like blasts collided between them, causing a massive explosion that blew hot plasma into the faces of both goblins. They weren't fazed by the blast, though; they both took out pumpkin-bombs and prepared to throw again.
"On second thought, if the goblins keep this up, they'll take out half of Manhattan!" said Spidey. "I've got Gobby. Cat, Red, you take the new guy."
Spider-Man swung over to the top of Fisk Tower, sprang off as hard and high as he could, and fired a web-line at Green Goblin. His aim was true; he caught the bottom of Gobby's glider.
"Uh-oh," laughed Hobgoblin. "Looks like you've picked up a stowaway!"
"No fair," said Green Goblin. "Time out while I take care of the pest?"
Hobgoblin answered, "Okay, but then you've only got two left until halftime… whoa!" He saw a white blob of something fly past his head. Then he was dodging and juking out of the way, while Scarlet Spider fired several more balls of impact webbing at him. "Girly, you're starting to piss me off!" he shouted. He turned his glider and aimed; two pumpkin-headed missiles appeared within the muzzles of the missile-tubes on the glider's front.
"Missiles!" shouted Cat. Good luck, she thought silently to herself.
"I see them," said MJ, taking careful aim. She fired again… and scored a direct hit on Hobgoblin's glider. The impact webbing burst, sealing the missiles in their tubes after they'd armed… and also sticking Hobby to his glider.
"What?!" cried Hobgoblin. Then the bombs exploded, and he was falling toward the top of Fisk Tower, barely conscious.
"Nice shot!" said Black Cat with a cheer.
"Yeah… but where's Spidey?" asked MJ.
"Uh-oh," said Cat, pointing. Green Goblin was flying away, carrying Spider-Man on the web-line behind him, just as he'd done to MJ the last time.
"Crap!" shouted Mary Jane. "Cat, I'm going after them. You really should, you know, check on your mom and make sure she's okay."
"I understand," said Black Cat. "Hey, listen, before you go, I just want to say: take care of Spider. He needs a partner. And you two are lucky to have each other."
"Thanks," said MJ. "And you're welcome to team up with us anytime." Then she dove off the side of the building and went webbing after the Green Goblin, as fast as she could swing.
• • •
"Yaaaaaaooooowwwwzzzzaaaa!" screamed Peter, hanging onto his web-line for dear life.
The Green Goblin sailed all the way over to the East River… all the way back to the Queensboro Bridge. He landed on the top of the very same tower where he'd murdered Madeline Watson, and he leapt off his glider. Then he waited.
Spider-Man leapt onto the side of the tower and crawled his way to the top. Then he jumped up over the edge and landed in a fighting stance. "Goblin!" he shouted, sounding angrier than he'd intended. "It's finished! I'm taking you down, once and for all!"
"Agreed," said the Green Goblin. "It was high time we finished this. But I say we settle it like men: no weapons. Just fists." He pulled off his gloves and his belt and dropped them at his feet. "Honest. Brutal. Old-school. What do you say?"
"I wouldn't trust you as far as I could throw you, Gobby."
"…Or I could start tossing bombs, and hope that a few land on innocent drivers down below," came the retort. "Lose the webs, and let's end this!"
Peter looked down at his web-shooters. Now it came to it; this was a matter of honor. Most especially Mary Jane's; he'd be fighting for her sake. He pulled his web-shooters off and let them fall to the floor.
Then the goblin was running at him, swinging a fist. Peter blocked and threw a punch of his own, which the goblin caught in his hand. "Impressive!" he laughed. Then he pushed against Peter's arm and sent him flying backwards; Peter landed on his back, turned a somersault, and leapt to his feet again.
"You know, Gobby, this might not've been the brightest idea you've ever had," Peter taunted, turning flips in the air over his opponent's head and dodging every punch and kick with ease. "You're strong, I'll give you that," he avoided another one-two punch, "so good for you and everything; but you're just not fast enough to hit me. I mean, I can go toe-to-toe with Doc Ock, and he's got twice as many limbs as you. I'm A-list over here, and you barely qualify for the majors."
The Green Goblin remained strangely silent while he continued his attacks. He didn't have a witty comeback on his lips. He just kept fighting, seriously fighting, all his focus locked on maneuvering his opponent into position. And then it was time… he swung hard, overextending himself, leaving the perfect opening.
Spidey took the bait. He let himself fall to the ground and pushed off with both hands, aiming a two-footed kick at Green Goblin's chest. The goblin took the hit and staggered back, while Spidey landed on his feet and held up his fists. The goblin raised an arm in surrender. "All right, all right! I give!" he pleaded. "I can't beat you, Spider-Man. Not this way."
"Then you surrender?" asked Peter.
"Yes!" said the Goblin, subtly pushing the control on his wrist. He held up his hands again. "You win!"
Then, spider-sense. Acting purely on instinct, Peter leapt straight up into the air, narrowly avoiding the Green Goblin's glider, which had been barreling at him from behind on command from the goblin. The Green Goblin, little expecting this, raised an eyebrow and said, "Oh," …just before his own weapon impaled him through the chest. The glider turned sharply downward and pushed him forcefully into the tower-top before finally sputtering out and falling over. The Green Goblin, mortally wounded, remained spiked to the concrete surface, coughing up blood.
When Spider-Man landed on his feet again, he could only stare wide-eyed at the gruesome scene before him. It was over… it was finally over for the Green Goblin. And that was when Scarlet Spider arrived.
"Spidey!" she said, swinging onto the tower and running up to Peter. She embraced him tightly. "You're okay! You beat him!"
"Yeah," said Spidey softly. "I did."
MJ turned and faced the goblin. "Is he… dead?"
Another cough from the goblin answered that question in the negative. He tried to say something; it came out as an incoherent mumble. Eventually, in spite of the blood filling his mouth, he was able to sputter out, "Watson… my… my mask…"
Mary Jane let go of Peter and crept forward cautiously. She reached out a tentative hand and gripped the Green Goblin's mask by the seam at the neck. Then she peeled it away and gasped. "Mr. Osborn!"
"H-Harry…" he said in a ragged voice, "…cares about you… m'sorry… for what the goblin did… please… don't tell him about me…" Then Norman Osborn's eyes rolled back, and his head fell back down to the floor, and he was gone.
Peter came up behind Mary Jane, knelt down beside her, and put his arm around her shoulder.
"It really was Harry's dad, all along," said MJ. "He had us all fooled."
"I'll bet he used a second goblin as a decoy at the party," said Peter. "Hobgoblin. It must be."
"Whoever he is," said MJ. Then she stood up; Peter stood up with her. "Mr. Osborn… asked us not to tell Harry. What do we do?"
After a moment's thought, Peter started stripping Norman out of the goblin armor. "We do what he asked. We destroy this stuff; and we don't tell Harry that his dad was a murderer."
MJ nodded. That would be for the best.
And so Peter gathered together all of the goblin-gear, tied it up in a big web-bag, and went off to dump it down a smokestack somewhere. And Mary Jane… she took Norman Osborn's body and swung it off to his home.
• • •
Harry Osborn sat amongst the wreckage of his penthouse. The police and the paramedics had come and gone; he'd told the police everything that he'd seen, that someone looking a great deal like the Green Goblin—maybe it was this Hobgoblin person who'd been mentioned in the newspapers lately—had attacked their home. He'd been knocked out, and when he came to, his father was missing. Kidnapped. The medics had looked him over and offered to take him to the hospital, but he'd declined. He wanted to stay at home and wait for any news that might come in about his father.
Just about everything in the living-room had been destroyed. There was nothing to distract him while he waited, nothing to help alleviate the slow passage of time. Then, he heard a noise—up in his father's study. It was subtle, a window opening.
Panicked, Harry ran up the spiral stairs, and he froze at what he saw. It was the Scarlet Spider—the papers said she was a super-villain, a henchman of the Green Goblin—standing over his father's bloody corpse. "What have you done?!" he cried.
"I'm sorry," said Scarlet Spider. "The Green Goblin did this. I'm sorry we couldn't save him." Then she ran for the window, spun a web, and she was gone.