XXX. Desperation
Sunday came and went, and Monday arrived. Still there'd been no sign of Gwen. Now it came down to it: Aunt May was forced to call the school and tell them that Gwen had caught the flu and would be staying home for the next few days. She also kept Peter home on the same excuse, saying that he'd been exposed and could spread it to the other students. Mary Jane, unfortunately, had no such excuse—she couldn't tell Aunt Anna the truth, and so she had to go to school. Since this was also the night of the fall dance at Midtown High, it also fell to MJ to make an excuse for Gwen with Flash—to pass along the message that she wanted to go, but was sick and couldn't make it.
Thus Peter was free to spend the day searching for Gwen. He began in the same part of Midtown Manhattan where her transformation had occurred, and then he searched the surrounding neighborhoods, but with no luck. He considered the possibility that she might have tried to come home, some semblance of human memory overriding whatever instincts she now possessed as a spider-creature; but swinging all over Queens that afternoon turned up nothing either. He was starting to think that he would have to seek help from SHIELD after all.
• • •
Harry Osborn walked into Oscorp's brightly-lit, top-story board-room, accompanied by a grim and dour-looking attorney. He walked to the head of the table, to the seat presently occupied by Oscorp's interim CEO, Donald Menken. "Donald? May I?"
Menken was a wiry, middle-aged, bespectacled man who looked as if been born and bred to be an executive for a major corporation. And he seemed reluctant to give up the seat. But this was Norman Osborn's son, after all, and still technically the owner of the company, even if he didn't yet have the power to administrate it. Donald stood up; Harry sat down in his place.
"Let's get down to business," said Harry. "Since my father's death—well, since both of his 'deaths', really, but especially this time—Oscorp has had to face some sudden and jarring transitions. I just wanted to come by and assure all the board-members that I'll do everything in my power to make these transitions as smooth as possible."
One of the major shareholders on the board, Dr. Rajit Ratha, leaned forward in his chair and said, "What do you mean, Harry? Mr. Menken has done an admirable job running the company, first in Mr. Osborn's absence, and now since his passing."
"Let's get one thing straight right away," said Harry with a hollow, derisive chuckle. "My father is dead. I'll thank you to call me 'Mr. Osborn' now. And what I mean, Rajit, is that my father started this company. He was its CEO from day one. And, in spite of a few unfortunate interruptions in that tenure near the end of his life, I mean to ensure that an Osborn carries on in his name."
Menken, who was still standing at the table next to Harry, sputtered in surprise. "Harr—Mr. Osborn, you're only seventeen. You're not out of high school yet—"
Harry held up his hand for silence. "I don't mean right away, Donald. I fully intend to finish school before I formally step in—and of course, you get to remain interim CEO until that happens. But in the meanwhile, I do demand a say in the direction this company takes. Which is why, earlier today—Mr. Shaw, if you would, please?"
Here, Harry's lawyer produced a stack of folders and passed them around the table. Harry continued, "Earlier today, I obtained a court order granting me full rights and privileges as my father's heir, in spite of my legal status as a minor for another year. Including a vote on the board of directors, as president of Oscorp."
Dr. Ratha scoured the court order. "Of course the board must hold a vote on this before it can be—"
"The board doesn't have a choice," said Harry. "The order is legal and binding. I run this company now. Technically speaking, of course; it still falls to Donald here to handle the day-to-day matters."
"I can't help but notice," said Menken, "that this order also dissolves your trust-fund and gives you full control over all of your late father's assets."
Harry smiled and leaned back in the chair. It was just so… comfortable, so plush. "Call it a perk," he said with a devilish grin.
A tense pause followed. Then Menken said, "This isn't at all what I was expecting."
"Then I suppose you didn't know my father very well," said Harry. "Because this is exactly what he would do in my place."
Nobody present could argue with that.
• • •
Wilson Fisk was depressed. He sat at his desk in his office in Fisk Tower, eyes closed, his head resting in his hands. His family was in hiding, overseas, waiting for the day when he'd be strong enough to send for them, to bring them home without fear that his enemies could get to him through his wife and his son. The Spider-Slayer program had stumbled out of the gate—Smythe's initial attempt had become something of a public embarrassment. If Spencer's production-model Slayer failed to deliver, Fisk knew that he could kiss any notion of a private security contract with the city goodbye. Worst of all, the original super-soldier serum had slipped through his grasp. It had only ever been used on Captain America; on the Red Skull in an adulterated, sabotaged form; and on Walter Hardy's daughter, Felicia. She was the Black Cat; Fisk was clever enough to piece that part together. Perhaps there was a small chance that he could strong-arm Felicia into joining his organization; but then again, that might prove more trouble that it was worth. Considering what he'd done to her mother, she must have hated him by now. At any rate, having one super-soldier under his control—and one mainly trained as a cat-burglar, at that—was hardly the same thing as having the power to create a super-army.
That left one other course of action: create new super-soldiers from a new formula. There had been several attempts down through the decades that Wilson Fisk had become aware of, thanks to his many and varied connections in business and government. There had been the Weapon X program; Dr. Banner's nano-med and gamma mutation research; and even a contract that Oscorp had taken with SHIELD to create some kind of human performance-enhancer. Oscorp had also been involved in other shady programs to create super-mercenaries, but none of those programs had proven practical on a mass scale, at least as far as Fisk was aware. And if Justin Hammer's terrible performance at the Stark Expo two years ago had been any indication, robotic drones certainly weren't the answer—which was why Smythe's Spider-Slayer design had always been intended as a secondary initiative, meant to drum up publicity and eventually compliment a true super-soldier program.
If the answer to Fisk's worries existed anywhere, it was with SHIELD. They were at the heart of every major attempt to create a new Captain America. But their security was nigh-impenetrable. It would take a computer genius to get through their firewalls and obtain the knowledge and Fisk required.
Fortunately, the Kingpin had someone in mind. He picked up the phone at his desk and placed the call personally. "Hello… Alistair … yes, this is Wilson Fisk. Young man, I have a business proposition that I'll think you'll… no, it doesn't concern your father. It's you that I want to talk to. … Yes, tomorrow's fine. Feel free to come by whenever it suits you. … Excellent."
• • •
The Midtown High fall formal arrived. Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson didn't show. Gwen Stacy couldn't be there, and Harry Osborn was too busy to bother. Flash Thompson and Kenny McFarlane, who both found themselves unexpectedly without dates for the evening, had to go stag. But they were determined to go and enjoy themselves. Flash had been prepared to pull out all the stops: he was dressed to the nines, and he had a corsage that he'd meant to give to Gwen. Kenny, as befit his particular idiom, wore one of those novelty tuxedo-printed t-shirts.
Thanks to poor planning on the part of the school's event committee, this semester's formal had fallen on a date in late October only a few days before Halloween. And so, despite the fact that all of the students were dressed in tuxes and gowns instead of costumes, Halloween had become the de facto theme of the dance—the decorations were all pumpkins and cutout bats and cobwebs. It was a bit ridiculous, but nobody really minded.
Flash and Kong made a point of being fashionably late; in short order, they had taken up a spot by the punch-bowl where they could hit on passing girls to their hearts' content and lament their mutual ill fortune. "Can't believe Stacy stood you up," said Kenny.
"She didn't stand me up; she's sick," insisted Flash. "Did you notice that both Gwen and Parker were missing today?"
"Whatevs," said Kenny. He grabbed some more hors d'œuvres and commenced with the traditional stuffing-of-the-face-hole.
That was when a pretty girl in a red dress, sitting at a corner table all by herself, caught Flash Thompson's eye. "Hey," he said, nudging Kenny. "Who's that?"
Kenny shrugged and tried to say "I don't know" with his mouth full, but he was rescued by Rand Robertson, who had just come over to the punch table to get drinks for himself and Liz Allan. "That's Sha-Shan Nguyen," he said. "Transfer student, only been here a week, so she's probably not here with anyone. But I remember her from our physics class; she seemed pretty into it."
Kenny swallowed. "Sounds like another geek then."
"Who cares?" said Flash. "She's a hottie!" Like a man entranced, he left Kenny and Rand behind and went over to talk to her.
"Aw, man," grumbled Kenny to Rand. "First Glory, now Flash? Are we the only sane people left in the world?"
"Sorry, man; you're on your own," said Rand with an amused smile. "Liz is waiting for me." He took two cups of punch and departed to find his date.
Most of the next hour passed with Kenny standing alone, his attempts to flirt with girls mostly falling flat and onto deaf ears. Flash and Sha-Shan really seemed to hit it off; they sat at that little corner table, talking and laughing together, for a long while before finally getting up and dancing. Eventually, it dawned on Kenny that Flash would probably be spending the rest of the evening with the new girl—that he really was on his own. That realization portended more boredom than Kenny cared to put up with, so he decided that he'd have a little more punch and then leave quietly.
A moment later, he crept toward the gym door and hoped to slip away without being noticed. Only, just as he was about to reach the door, it was flung open with enough force that it crashed into the wall and drew everybody's attention. There, standing in the doorway, was a gaunt figure wrapped some kind of tattered coat that it wore like a cloak. Pale skin was visible underneath the cloth. A clawed hand emerged from underneath the makeshift cloak and drew it off, revealing a ghastly white face with an upturned, bat-like nose; pointed ears; red eyes and stringy black hair.
"Whoa…" breathed Kenny. "Dude, nice vampire costume, but this totally isn't a Halloween party—"
The newcomer hissed and flung the cloak down to the floor, revealing wing-like flaps of pale skin under his arms. He rose up into the air—it seemed more as if he were levitating than actually flying with the wings—and bared his fangs.
Students screamed and ran for their lives, knocking over tables and pushing past each other in their haste to empty out the gym. Kenny dropped his punch and stared transfixed for a moment, before he too ran headlong out of the gym with a gangway yell.
The vampire swooped down and plucked a random student out of the crowd. The unlucky girl managed not to faint, but she screamed at the top of her lungs… until red eyes stared into hers, and she stared back, entranced. Once she was quiet and rendered too docile to resist, Michael Morbius—for indeed, the vampire could be none other—whispered a soft apology and sank his fangs into her neck. He didn't want to kill her, but he'd been wandering aimlessly through the city for two days, avoiding the sunlight that burned his skin now, following the scent of young blood… and now the hunger was too great to resist.
• • •
News of the attack on the school dance spread like wildfire. Mary Jane was the first of our heroes to hear about it, thanks to a frantic phone-call from Liz Allan. MJ and Peter had been out looking for Gwen again, this time searching Lower Manhattan, and still without any success; but as soon as they heard about the attack, Spider-Man and Scarlet Spider raced straight to Midtown to see if there was anything they could do to help.
Unfortunately, by the time they arrived, the police were there and the vampire-creature that everyone was talking about was already long gone. Peter and MJ watched from a distance as police interviewed distraught students and medics examined the injured. There were news vans there too, with reporters speaking into microphones in front of cameramen—and Peter even thought that he spotted Ben Urich there, asking a few questions for the Bugle. Whatever Ben found out wouldn't show up in the papers until the next day's morning edition, but from what they were able to hear, at least one student had been killed in the attack.
Peter and MJ stayed out of sight, discussing their options from a rooftop. "Great," grumbled Peter. "On top of looking for Gwen, now there's this new crazy we have to watch out for."
"I think we're going to need more help," said MJ. "Black Cat at the very least, if you still don't think we can trust SHIELD."
"I still don't know about SHIELD," said Peter, "but Cat, I'm sure we can trust." And so they resolved to ask for Felicia's help when they resumed their search tomorrow.
• • •
The next day, there were two very strange stories all over the news. The first one, Peter expected: the so-called "vampire" attack on Midtown High. The other, not so much: there was a story printed in the morning Bugle, and now being echoed on the daytime TV news, of a multi-armed creature which had been attacking and frightening people in Central Park. That was just the lead that Peter had been waiting for! But, since he'd yet again been dodging school that day in order to search for Gwen, he figured that it would be best to head home wait until school was out, so that MJ and Felicia could join him in his search. He would need their help in order to subdue the monster. But at least now, they knew where to look: Central Park.
In a perfect world, that would be Peter Parker's plan. But this was not a perfect world, and the rules of "Parker luck" were still in full effect. When Peter arrived at home (since he now had nothing better to do except wait for afternoon), he found Aunt May watching a breaking news story on TV. It seemed that the police commissioner was holding a press conference to address some of the recent attacks. "…No, as of now, we haven't made any decision regarding Wilson Fisk's Spider-Slayer program. While the NYPD officially doesn't condone vigilantism, we do appreciate the efforts of New York's citizen heroes, including Spider-Man. … Yes, I've heard the reports of a Spider-Thing attacking people at night in Central Park; as of now, there does seem to be some evidence substantiating the rumors of an unidentified animal or mutant dwelling in the park. … Ha-ha, no, I don't believe in vampires, even if Halloween is tomorrow; but we do take mutant attacks on our schools very seriously."
The press conference went on like this for some minutes, before the attention shifted from the commissioner to the mayoral candidate, Sam Bullit. Bullit was a bit more straightforward in his pitch. "No, of course we can't let this stand! While I do appreciate the fine job that our men and women in uniform do for the NYPD, I think that where these, these 'mutants' are concerned, the safety of our citizens must take priority. Now, since the incumbent mayor has, for whatever reason, chosen not to request help from the governor, or recommend calling up the National Guard, I've decided to take matters into my own hands. I'm assembling a civilian task-force … no, I wouldn't use the word 'mercenaries', that's why I said 'task-force' … to deal with these creatures that threaten the peace and security of our fair city. Thank you for your time, God bless New York and the United States of America, and don't forget to turn out on Tuesday morning and vote Bullit…"
"I don't believe this!" said Aunt May, pointing at the television in revulsion. "They're talking about hunting Gwen down like… like some kind of animal!"
"Then we'll just have to make sure we find her first," said Peter, punching a fist into his open hand.
• • •
A few hours later, Mary Jane raced to meet Peter on the roof of Felicia Hardy's apartment building. Spider-Man and Black Cat were already there, waiting for her. "Hi, Red," said Peter. "Glad you could make it."
"You said you have some news?" said MJ breathlessly.
"Central Park," said Peter. "That's where everyone says the 'Spider-Thing' is living."
"Do I even want to know where this thing came from?" asked Cat.
"It used to be a friend of ours," said MJ. "We want to capture her—"
"—Or, at the very least, get a tissue sample," said Peter, "so we can figure out how to change her back before anyone else can hurt her."
"Another woman in your life," sniffed Cat. "It's a good thing I'm not the jealous type." After a pause, she asked, "Would this be the six-armed blonde in black that I saw on the news, helping you two fight that robot?"
"It would," said MJ with a nod. "Will you help us find her?"
"I guess it might be a fun way to kill an evening," said Cat. "I've been bored lately, what with not having to steal anything anymore."
"Glad to hear it," said Pete. "Now, can we go? I heard on the news that they're hiring frigging mercenaries to search the Park tonight, so we need to hurry this up."
• • •
Spider-Man, Scarlet Spider, and Black Cat swung over to Central Park—it was no great distance from the Hardys' penthouse—and discovered when they arrived that there was already a huge crowd of news-reporters present, interviewing some of the assembled mercenaries. Spider-Man recognized two of them right away: "Silver Sable… and Kraven the Hunter?!" he said, pointing them out to his two partners. "I thought he was in jail!"
Black Cat appraised Kraven's leonine features and muscular form approvingly and said, "Maybe they couldn't cage a cat like him."
"What do you know about this Sable person?" asked MJ.
"Her real name is Sable Manfredi—she's Silvermane's daughter. Oh, and she used to date Hammerhead."
"Ew," said MJ, "why?!"
Peter shrugged. "Dunno. But they hate each other's guts now, and I'm sure there's no love lost between her and the Kingpin, so at least there's that."
While our heroes watched from the sidelines, Kraven was delivering a speech to the reporters, really hamming it up for the cameras. "—It is true that in the past, I have had some disregard for your laws, but I have paid my debt; served my time. And when your politician, Mr. Bullit, came to me and asked for my help with a great hunt, I knew that I could not turn my back on the people of this city! My feud with Spider-Man was a mistake, a mere distraction. Now I know that my true destiny is to hunt the Spider-Thing that threatens you all!"
Here, Silver Sable stepped up to the cameras and cut Kraven off. "Mr. Bullit has retained my services and Kraven's with a private contract. My 'Wild Pack' and I—" here, Sable pointed to the group of armed mercenaries behind her, half a dozen men and women dressed in silver uniforms that matched hers, "would like to get down to business, but we're being prevented from entering the park by those government-types over there. Why don't you go interview them and find out who they are?" She waved off the reporters dismissively and then roughly pushed one of the cameras out of her face.
That was when Peter, MJ, and Felicia noticed the line of men in black, unmarked riot-gear blocking the path into the park. "SHIELD," said Peter. "They're already here."
"Great," said MJ. "Now we're racing mercs and men-in-black."
She, Peter, and Cat swung their way into the park, over the heads of the tactical-armored SHIELD operatives. Kraven saw them and pointed, exclaiming, "Look! Spider-Man! That does it—if they won't let me in, I'll—"
Sable stopped him. "You'll what? Land yourself right back in jail after three days' freedom? Embarrass our employer? Hold your horses, jungle-man; we'll get our chance."
Kraven grumbled something in Russian and backed down.
• • •
It was Felicia who spotted an armored van parked near a dense copse of trees. "Think we should go over and say 'hi'?"
"Why not?" said Peter. He led them up to the back of the vehicle and banged on the door. As it opened, he half expected to find the same three agents who'd been watching his house after MJ's parents had died, right here in this van too; at least that would have been an amusing coincidence. He did not expect to find Dr. Bruce Banner and Dr. Elizabeth Ross sitting inside a mobile genetics lab, waiting for him.
"Spider-Man," said Dr. Banner. "We were wondering when you'd finally show up."
"Buh—buh—buh—" said Spider-Man.
"Bruce Banner; nice to meet you," he replied, holding out a hand.
Spider-Man took the hand and shook it. "I'm shaking hands with Bruce Banner. I—I've read your work, it's—and Dr. Ross? The two of you are just—let's just say that I'm a fan!"
Betty Ross smiled and said, "It's nice to have a fan. There honestly aren't too many people left outside of SHIELD who appreciate our work, after the whole 'Hulk' thing…"
"Oh, Spidey here is a huge nerd about this kind of stuff," said Scarlet Spider. "So are you here to help us find our friend?"
"As a matter of fact, we've already found her," said Dr. Banner. "But we'll leave it up to you to handle the actual retrieval. If I were to get involved, things could get… messy."
"So why are you here then?" asked Peter.
"Well, in my time, I've tried lots of different methods for curing an unwanted mutation," explained Bruce, "and I've stumbled upon a number of temporary suppressants that might fix your friend, at least for a little while, until a permanent cure can be devised. Basically, I'm here as a doctor, not a Hulk."
"And I'm here to make sure that he stays that way," added Betty.
"Fair enough," said Peter. "Where's Gwen now?"
Bruce pulled out a map of the park and pointed. "She's made a… a nest or something in this tunnel, here. It's full of this super-strong spider-webbing stuff, but I guess you're probably aware of that."
"You could say that," said MJ.
Bruce handed an injector to Peter and said, "This is a wide-spectrum cocktail of genetic suppressants and neutralizers. If you can use it, great; if not, you'll have to knock her out and drag her over here."
"Got it," said Peter. He took the injector, MJ took the map, and they went off to find Gwen.
Black Cat turned to follow them, but before she did, she leaned into the van and said to Betty (tiling her head in Bruce's direction), "He's not much to look at, but the Hulk is pretty hot. How does that work out for you guys?"
Bruce turned red in the cheeks and coughed, embarrassed. Betty shook her head, saying, "You really don't want to know."
Author's Note: I just want to point out here, by the way, that I'm using the SSM version of Silver Sable rather than the canon, 616 version of the character, to again strengthen this story's ties to the Spectacular Spider-Man continuity; and because that version of the character really amuses me, especially whenever Hammerhead is also around. They're hilarious together.