Chapter 20: Prelude to Chaos.

3 minutes ago:

Spider-man descended onto the ground by a web-sting. While most eyes were on Mr. Fantastic rising into the air on his vehicle, Spider-man was looking at the series of bowling balls that Thor called his arm muscles.

Daaamn, look at the guy, Peter thought. No smart-aleck was going to him tell him that he should have his long hair in a ponytail.

The preoccupied youth had not noticed the restraint of the surrounding police officials. Thor, though, picked up on the tension and followed their line of vision. The Norse Legend turned around and smiled.

"Ah, yon adventurer of dubious reputation…. But not to the Odinson. I say thou art hero. Welcome."

Thor extended his hand, which nearly blew Peter away. But how do you shake Thor's hand? The tall fellow was impressive to the nth degree. Spider-man didn't want to come across as a wimp. All right then, Peter figured. He would take the Thunder Master's hand and squeeze with all his might.

Peter was wowed again. The big lug didn't flinch. He didn't even feel the grip that could crack a brick.

Spider-man's foot touched the ground with his back to Yolanda Vanko. She was proud that she didn't release a girlish squeal. Here, within arm's length was her absolute faaaavorite non-Henry hero. He had the strength of 40 or 45 men— that equaled Giant-man at his customary fighting size. But she had to admit that he had it all over Giant-man in another way: that incredible spider-speed. A criminal could throw a punch at Spider-man and strike nothing but air. A half-second later, the crook would feel someone tapping his shoulder from behind. He'd turn and Spider-man would be there asking him if he wanted to surrender, or did he want a forced nap.

She froze trying to prepare a proper greeting. Unfortunately, she waited too long. Without acknowledging her existence, Spider-man walked towards Thor.

The Unicorn said to herself, "Now don't tell me that he's starstuck by somebody else. Then again, Thor wasn't just a somebody."

Thor and the Spider-man shook hands and began to talk. She turned around to see Giant-man and Iron Man involved in their own conversation. She would have loved to introduce her soon-to-be boyfriend to her hero, which obviously required her to first introduce herself.

It took a while, but Iron Man finally turned away and appeared to be taking off. Yolanda rushed over there to pull Giant-man towards the red-and-blue crusader. Suddenly, the armored Avenger turned back to her beloved.

Darn it, they weren't going to talk again, were they? To her relief, Iron Man then took off.

Before he knew it, Giant-man was trying to catch his balance as Yolanda mightily tugged on his right arm.

"Come on, come on," Yolanda coached. "We've got to meet him."

"'We've got to meet who? Oh, him. Okay."

Thor had also departed. Possessing a hammer that allowed him to travel at a fantastic speed, his exposure would be nearly impossible. He could cover both the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges without the media shouting that a hero was patrolling along the East River. If the Thinker heard that and suspected something, he would turn to a back-up plan and no one wanted that to happen.

Without a distraction, Peter exhibited the politeness that his aunt taught him. He apologized for ignoring the new hero and greeted Giant-man.

Hank saw through her body language that Yolanda was impressed with the young hero. Maybe, she even had a crush. Be it as it may, she was going to be two years older than Peter in three weeks. Wait a minute. For all he knew, Betty Brant may have been 3 years older. Suddenly, Hank had a disturbing feeling.

Peter tried not to notice the Unicorn's hourglass figure. He was Betty's guy, plain and simple. Still, just as he stole peeks at the Fantastic Four's Sue Storm, he knew that his eyes would drift in her direction continually. Thank God that his mask covered his eye movements.

In a less hormonal note, Peter asked what was up with Giant-man and the Unicorn? Was she his new squeeze? Did he kick that less-than-disciplined Wasp to the curb? Well, he couldn't blame the Avenger, really.

Yolanda fought back nervousness and began, "So,… you had a conversation with Thor."

"Yeah, I think he'd be terrible at picture hanging, though. Imagine him putting a nail on a wall with that hammer? Man, the entire building would disintegrate."

Yolanda was pleasantly surprised to see that he had a sense of humor.

Giant-man intervened. There was no time for chit-chat and Spider-man had to know about the danger. Yolanda was glad that Hank did the talking. She was afraid that she would have said something stupid like, "Can I be around when you squash that Kraven character?"

He was Spider-man, after all. And considering that she didn't know him like she did Hank, he strangely made her insides fell like Jell-O.

And then it happened. She got to know ONE thing about him and the Jell-O turned into a heavy rock. Spider-man didn't like the idea of standing around waiting for something to happen. He called himself an "action guy."

His attitude, more than his words made Yolanda want to call him a childish action guy. Good Lord, Hank was talking about bombings and deaths. This Spider-kid thought that being weighed down by a "tire around my neck" was more disastrous than explosions.

Spider-man continued by saying that being stationed inside of an unmarked van drinking coffee and eating donuts was better left to heroes on Social Security.

Hank felt deeply disappointed. Yes, in one hand, Peter was the typical youth in that he had a lot of restless energy. In reconsidering, to put upon him a yoke that required more maturity was unfair. On the other hand, any other teen who had his gifts, would've spent his time making money, driving slick cars, bedding girls and getting drunk. As a testimony to his selfless maturity, Peter fought to make the city safer.

Peter was a good, helpful, self-sacrificing 17-year-old boy; but a boy, none the less. He wanted chasing and fighting….. Or was that his only concern?

"Understand that the police have a hands-off order from the Mayor. They would not be looking to arrest you if let your guard down." Giant-man then waited for a reaction.

Spider-man shook his head and said that it just wasn't something he could do. If on the other hand, he could just patrol the streets….

"The Fantastic Four already have that covered," the Unicorn spat out in annoyance. Spider-man said nothing for a while. Then he begrudgingly consented. But his attitude in relenting reinforced Yolanda's impression of him. And Hank couldn't afford a half-hearted endeavor.

"Listen— forget about it, Spider-man. I shouldn't have asked. Thor's speed will allow him to cover three bridges. Thanks—we'll see you around."

Now it would be a lie to say that the teenage adventurer didn't welcome being let off the hook, but he didn't feel proud, either. He started to apologize, but Hank cut him short. He put his arm around the Unicorn and they turned around. They were heading to the Triborough. There was work to do.

Giant-man asked his partner to activate the built-in communicator in her helmet. Yolanda was to ask Thor to move Captain America north to the 59th Street Bridge. Thor was asked to cover the Brooklyn, Manhattan AND the Williamsburg expanses.

As her mentor, Hank thought that she should get used to focusing on a mission even in the face of a disappointment.

They entered an unmarked police van with windows only in the front and back. As it took them north, Yolanda continued expressing shock over Spider-man's demeanor. Hank let her get it out.

Peter would always be valued in Hank's eye. But now, more than before, he was set against the prospect of Yolanda getting close to Peter. Peter wasn't a bad influence. It's just that Yolanda needed a matured supporter in her life. She needed someone who wouldn't be a drag on her if she followed a boring, but correct course.

Hank had a sad smile. He finally had a deeper appreciation for the stirring of Erica's protective nature when she saw him with Jan.

The Thinker was riding in the back seat of a government car. He preferred to be fashionably late, but it was obvious that he'd be in the courthouse 45 minutes before his 1 PM trail. The handcuffs were an unnecessary accessory to his grey suit and blue tie, but it was only temporary, he smirked. By 1:20 he would be walking out a free man.

It wasn't that his plan had holes, but he had an additional ace up his sleeve. Nobody knew that Flint Marko was going to be in that hallway outside of the court room. The Sandman was going to reciprocate a favor that was extended to him by the Thinker, when he engineered the meta-being's own prison escape. Marko was given a watch by one of the Thinker's former gang members. A signal reciever was built into that watch. If the Thinker had to make a quick getaway, the evil genius would press down on the class cover of his own time piece for 3 seconds and a ring would sing out from the Sandman's watch.

Marko would then break into the courtroom launching a quick tear-gas strike. As chaos ensued, the Sandman would whisk his benefactor out through the window. This action would only go into operation if his bomb-planting scheme fizzled. But of course, it won't. He was the Thinker, after all.

Flint Marko held a paper bag in the crock of his right arm. In the bag was a 12 X 18 inch box of Schraft's assorted chocolates. Inside the cellophane-wrapped red box were two thin containers of tear-gas. The candy box would easily pass the inspection at the courthouse's front door.

Marko knew that he had to make his way to the Thinker's trail in southern Manhattan. But that could wait another 15 minutes. He hadn't seen his darling Alexandra for so long.

The Sandman's ability included changing the appearance of his face. And so a recently balding man had his longer-than-usual nose nearly pressing against the wire fence looking at his little princess running and playing with the other first graders in the school yard. It was a pleasure that he allowed himself every day since his escape. He promised himself that one day he'll hold her tight and make up for lost time.

Marko was sure he'd get to the court room before the Judge's gravel sounded. In a few minutes he would walk the few blocks to hop a cab on Second Avenue. There were plenty of taxis around the Triborough Bridge section.

The isolated area by the Triborough Bridge had been underused for years. Trees and weeds were everywhere. Nature had fought and conquered man's attempt to cover her dirt ground; pavements and sidewalks retreated from various areas. Unlike the Bronx area where the Thinker had hid his toys, a good portion of the abandoned buildings were torn down. It made the awesome bridge look even more prominent.

The side door of the police van was open. Giant-man and the Unicorn sat on the floor of the vehicle with their feet on the rarely used street. The police isolated the area and it was a lovely day. Even if her armor prevented her from feeling the cooling breeze, Yolanda didn't want to stay inside of the vehicle.

She also didn't want to offer her soon-to-be boyfriend the packed sandwiches too early. But the attention she gave her conversation was divided, as she fretted over the condition of the food. Every so often, she would take off her glove and check if the sandwiches were still cool. Mayo plus heat equaled a terrible stomach reaction. To her surprise, they were.

The first White Rock delivery truck passed the Triborough. It was pulled over to where they were stationed. It was searched and let go.

Yolanda wanted to pet the two bomb-searching dogs, but they looked annoyed that they weren't let loose to play in the very pleasant day.

"The dogs look …. look annoyed?" Hank's question had a teasing tone.

Yolanda turned up her nose, saying, "If insects can talk to you, dogs can look annoyed to me. Ask anybody which of us sounded crazy."

Hank put up his hands in surrender. They watched the soda delivery truck go by and Hank shook his head. Yolanda asked if anything was wrong.

"Look at the White Rock logo. It's a fairy kneeing on the rock looking down into a pond."

Yolanda thought that he wanted her interpretation. She said that the fairy represented purity. Her purity translated to the water and that pure water went into the drink.

"Precisely," he said. "Look at the water below her face. It has rings, ripples. I never drank that soda as a kid; I thought that lousy fairy had spit into the water."

Yolanda fell backwards onto the van floor, laughing.

The teeth of 13 year-old Tabatha Smith dug savagely into the orange. Her hunger was so great that she could not wait to peel the fruit.

"Whoa there, Tabby," her new friend said. You need to slow up or you'll end up sick."

Tabatha looked up at her friend, Lorna, unconvinced that what she had said had merit. The girl's soiled hand wiped her chin of the sweet juice and her mouth spat out the peel. Her attention went back to the fruit.

Lorna Dane decided to leave her friend alone. The poor kid—she ran away from home because her father couldn't take her uniqueness, as Lorna preferred to say. Living in the streets is hard on her. Lorna , though, had no problem with that. She ran away from the orphanage at the age of 11 and these past 6 years have taught her to be tough and self-reliant …..and a successful thief. But that's what it took to master her environment, she reasoned. And mastered she did, until three weeks ago and again this morning.

Almost a month ago, she was going around as she always did, fingering parking meters and retrieving coins from them with her uniqueness. Suddenly, in front of her stood this good-looking, but weird and pushy guy with white hair. He said that Lorna was lucky that he found her. Because of some future glorious day crap, he was taking her away with him.

Now Lorna didn't know this guy from Adam. No matter how cute he was, she wasn't going anywhere with anyone— least of all, a stranger. He didn't take "no" for an answer and he grabbed her arm. She swung her body into his and planted a knee that should have rung his ding-dong bells and make him sing alto for a month. Darn, her aim was off, but the hit to the lower abdomen still resulted in her escape.

She ran about a block, thinking that she was a safe distance from him. It was time to dart in and out of crowded sidewalks to further lose herself. She turned around to check if he had recovered. But darn if he wasn't where she left him. Okay, fine with her; she turned to continue her escape. And there he was.

He roughly grabbed her collar with both hands and said. "That was most unwise. Do not anger me, girl."—his eyes shifted left and right, noticing passer-bys looking at them— "I didn't come to make a scene in front of these maggots. I came to rescue you from your condition."

He turned his head to his right and jerked his head in a manner that sent a signal for another person to come over to them. This crazy guy had a partner. Well, Lorna didn't want to be rescued and as far as her condition, she could control her world. Whitey, on the other hand, offered no promise of freedom where he was planning to take her. The fact that he was forcibly restraining her sent her mind screaming CHAINS! Sooo…

It was morning and metal trash containers were by the curb waiting to be emptied into garbage trucks. Correction: they were waiting to meet Whitey's head. Lorna flicked the index and middle fingers of her right hand and POW!

The metal lids flew off due to the impact. Lorna again used her talent to ride one of them away like a surfboard. Her magnetic powers enabled her retreat much faster than her legs could have.

Her condition, in deed. She always had a bed and bath at any of three Salvation Army Shelters. She had enough money to pay a regular to pose as her mom, thereby preventing a nosey shelter attendant's call to police about a "runaway." And her powers allowed her take clothes and food from anywhere.

That incident happened in the West 40's side of Manhattan. She never went back to the Hell's Kitchen area. She stayed north— not going too far from Columbia University's Upper West Side Campus vicinity.

Everything was okay until she met Tabby this morning. Lorna instinctively looked across the street and she found the blonde girl. Her eyes were wide and she was looking everywhere trying to decide where to go. Lorna knew the signs of a rookie on the streets and had pity on her.

Tabby's story left Lorna with admiration for the girl's moxie. She had somehow stowed away in the baggage compartment of a greyhound bus. The last stop was the Port Authority Terminal by the Washington Bridge.

After their talk, Lorna had left the girl on a park bench to get her breakfast. When she came back, Tabatha had company. There was a gorgeous, well-dressed brunette sitting by her, holding Tabatha's hands in a comforting way. And then there was Whitey standing before them.

The woman in the classy white blouse and dark slacks seemed upset with the jerk; to which Lorna remarked to herself, "Gee, what a surprise." The look on Tabby's face was of fear. There were plenty of metal trash receptacles in the park— the metal mesh type— so what happened next shouldn't have been surprising.

With both adults down, she took Tabby's arm and ran. Lorna always had coins that she borrowed. She dodged into the first bus that opened its door and off they rode. Unfortunately, Lorna also abandoned the food.

Lorna picked seats that were away from other riders. She found out that Tabatha was given the same B.S. about being rescued and that her power would be a key to usher in a future kingdom.

And what was her "power"?

"I can make this light, this globe," Tabatha whispered to her new pal. "I was just playing with one when they came over. But the globes aren't for playing, really. If I throw one, it explodes as strongly as any hand grenade. Not that I've ever thrown a hand grenade, but …"

Well hey, that was welcome news in the event that they met the terrible twosome again. 25 minutes later, the two girls were on the other side of upper Manhattan, sitting under the shadow of the Triborough Bridge. They had a new collection of food. Lorna had all day to find her way back to one of the Salvation Army Centers to settle the both of them in. Right now it was time to eat and find some fun.

Had Lorna put two and two together, she would have figured out that their confrontations with the would-be kidnappers came immediately after they made use of their powers. If she had made the connection as to how they were found, she wouldn't have borrowed more coins from parking meters and storefront gumball dispensers to buy the late breakfast. As it so happened, a car slowly rolled to a stop at a corner, a distance away. The two inhabitants of the car were not there to sightsee.

He reached his Forest Hills, Queens home quickly thanks to his web-swinging. Still wearing his Spider-man pants, Peter Parker was sitting on his bed looking at his downcast reflection in the mirror of his dresser.

He had his mega-bucks hidden securely under his underwear inside of the second to top drawl of his upright chest. Peter got in without anyone seeing Spider-man swinging around the neighborhood. Aunt May was out, probably with Mrs. Watson, so he didn't have to explain why he wasn't in school. Everything was looking up for the teen. He couldn't remember the last time that happened.

So why was he feeling awful? He didn't bother asking a second time, because he knew. He turned around to get his hero costume shirt from the foot of his bed. Spider-man was heading to the Triborough to tell Giant-man that he was in… even if the big guy objected. The youth was going to take any location that needed to be filled. Besides, since when did taking the free coffee and donuts that were offered to him become a sin?

Tabatha had eaten well and she was going to start on her dessert— watermelon. Lorna stopped her own munching when she saw her young pal freeze.

"What's wrong?"

The 13-year-old pointed to a black Ford Crown Victoria a distance away. "That's the car that those two guys came out of to take me away."

Probably not, but Lorna wasn't going to take chances. They moved fast. The girls noticed a police presence on the other side of the bridge. No one had ever caught Lorna stealing, so they cops weren't looking for a girl fitting her description. They would stay close to the poilce for a while until they figured out a plan to get out of there.

They made it to the other side and they decided to sit down closer to the men in blue. As they walked, they heard a whizzing behind them. Maybe they shouldn't have stopped to turn around and look, but they acted on nervous impulse. They saw nothing. But on the ground before them, their two shadows were joined by two more.

"Let's stop this nonsense. You're both coming with me. And don't plan of using your magnetic powers, girl. I'm prepared for you now."

"Well, well— if it isn't my pal, Whitey. What's the matter, even the sewer rats wanted better company?"

A moan from their left made the girls turn. Evidently, the guy also brought his female pal with him. She didn't look too good. She walked away from them, bent over. Guess traveling faster that sound didn't agree with her.

"Wanda", he called after her. She asked to be left alone for a minute. The girls thought that she was probably his girlfriend, because he was walking towards her all concerned and he seemed to have forgotten them.

Then Whitey yelled over his shoulder, warning them to stay put because they couldn't outrun him. But the girls tried anyway. They screamed as they charged towards the police vehicles.

A distance away from police personnel, Hank and Yolanda were still sitting on the floor of the van with their feet on the cracking black top. She finally figured out why the Wizard's anti-gravity disk seemed so familiar.

She asked, "Were you and Mr. Stark collaborating with Mr. Wittman?"

Henry shook his head angrily, "If we had known that we were in a race, we'd have finished the project long ago."

"Don't feel bad. I took a nonchalant attitude towards finishing the Unicorn horn. I guess we both stand to improve our focus. You help me and I'll help you."

His warm smile encouraged her to finally spring the surprise on her Prince Charming. Yolanda took out the sandwiches from her bag.

"I come prepared," she told her the sandy-haired hunk.

Giant-man replied with a bigger smile, "What can I say? You're wonderful. Donuts have their limited appeal, if you're an adult."

She unwrapped the plastic covering for him and then stopped. She feared that perhaps Henry would feel like she was babying him. But that wasn't the case.

"Okay, did you bring them just to show them to me, or am I allowed to eat?"

His appreciation was better than she had anticipated. Henry told her how caring and valuable she was. Just as her heart soared, he put up his hand and asked for a minute of silence.

Her heartthrob looked away towards nothing. Now, it couldn't be that his cybernetic sensors were scanning the area for his little friends. He did that a while ago, noting that the chunked-out pavements and the shrubbery close to the river were perfect for ant colonies. He also found two wasp nests on trees that were a distance apart from each other. As he told Yolanda Friday— two days before he told Jan, she was happy to say— he had arrived at a frequency to assemble wasps and attack a perceived danger. As if yet, Henry couldn't control them as well as he could the ants; but in a limited way, he had the wasps' respectful compliance. Hmm, Yolanda mused. Only in the insect world could the words respectful and Wasp go together.

She was curious as to what was happening, but the young genius respected Henry's request. He flashed two quick frowns and suddenly he came back to her world.

"Yollie, sweetie, I have to apologize. Remember when we spoke about your father's Cerebro project and how it was commissioned by Charles Xavier to find mutants? I never told you that Charles was also a mutant and he has the gift of mental telepathy. He searched me out just now. He must be very far away because his voice entered my brain in a low volume."

Yolanda didn't know if she should consider this as a joke or if he was losing his mind. Still, out of her great admiration for Henry, she chose to go along.

He said, "Turn your communicator to channel 4. We're going to intercept a call directed to the penthouse on the Ant-man line."

Instantly, the earpieces heard a ringing and then Giant-man answered. Henry knew the caller— Scott Summers.

The caller said, "As he no doubt told you, the Professor is tracking down a menace who calls himself Lucifer. Professor X was on an airliner heading for Europe when he asked me to contact you."

That made Giant-man wonder: was Xavier really on the phone an hour ago when he lent three X-men to the case? Perhaps he used telepathy then also.

"He tells me that Cerebro is very active," Giant-man said.

"Strong signals are coming from the area where you are posted, sir. We're looking at one Level D, one C and four As. One of the A's we know is the Blob. You know him, as well. He is resigned to stay a circus performer, so there is no alarm there. The second is as unknown as are the D and C.

"The last two A's are trouble. They are members of a mutant supremacy group calling themselves the Brotherhood. One is a young male, 5-11, white hair, athletic built. His name is Pietro Maximoff by birth, and Quicksilver as an operative. As his code name indicates, he possesses blinding speed.

"The other is a less-hostile— his sister, Wanda. She is a young, brunette, 5-7. She goes by The Scarlet Witch. Obviously, with an outstretched hand, she can cause accidents.

"Walking among non-mutants like this, and invading other mutants' space means they're recruiting. Being less aggressive, the female should be open if you ask her to stand down.

"You may convince her, where we cannot. The X-men have a history of confrontation with the Brotherhood and she would look at our words of reconciliation with suspicion.

"The brother and sister have shown reluctance to blindly follow the Brotherhood. They have a very strained relationship with the leader of the group, Magneto. Win her confidence and she can turn back the hot tempered Quicksilver. Hopefully, you can even get them to defect.

"At any rate, Ice man is being sent to you. As an X-man, he has had experience with those two and he'll help if things get ugly."

That was fine with Henry Pym. He understood that posting one X-man at the George Washington Bridge invited cowardly attacks from a mob of anti- mutant bigots— but three? The Angel and Marvel Girl were formable enough in Giant-man's assessment.

Yolanda's was impressed with Henry's intriguing web of connections. She was also grateful that he wanted to share some integrities of her father's invention.

When the phone conversation ended, Hank explained that all mutants appeared in Cerebro's sensors as little Christmas lights in the dark. The dimmer lights indicated those who rarely, if ever, use their powers. Many of these may not even know that they are specially gifted. The brightest lights— the "A" level— represented the alpha mutants. They exercise their powers with great frequency.

Suddenly, they heard high pitched screams coming from behind the van. Yolanda jumped up.

Giant-man smiled, "Go ahead, Miss Heroine. Take charge." Referring to the half-eaten sandwich, he added, "I'll wait for you. I don't want to eat alone."

The youthful screams didn't seem threatening to Hank. They were probably playing or arguing. He stayed by the van giving the Unicorn enough time to handle the excitement. Maybe these youths would eventually become the founders of The Unicorn Fan Club.

Yolanda playfully curtsied and then lifted off. In three seconds, she landed in front of the running girls. They stopped about fifteen paces from her and their eyes bulged with fear.

"Another one?" Tabatha screamed.

Before The Unicorn responded, a white-haired man magically appeared within the space that separated her from the two girls.

He snarled, "This is no concern of yours. Get back to whatever you were doing." He turned to the girls. The armored figure noticed that the youngest girl's face increased in panic.

"I say it is," the Unicorn replied. "I don't know who you are, but you better leave these girls alone."

Lorna was considering her own plan of defense, but Tabatha instinctively yelled, "Help us!"

Tabatha was nervously shifting her weight from one foot to another. A yellow orb with an orange outer glow was hovering between her hands.

The man silently turned in a slow and confident manner back to the Unicorn. His scowling face disappeared and suddenly the Unicorn was pushed by something invisible from the right and then from the left. Yolanda fell.

He reappeared in front of her saying, "That's only a sample of what you'll get if you interfere. I won't warn you a second time. Get out of here."

Lorna saw that her rescuer needed rescuing so she put her index finger and middle finger together.

The Unicorn supported herself on her knees and left hand. Quicksilver thought her right hand was half-way raised in surrender. The Unicorn regretfully shook her head, "Well everyone knows when they've met their match."

The surrendering hand was actually aiming her repulsor at the unpaved, dirt ground in front of her assailant.

"But I haven't met mine, yet." In an instant, dirt flew into the speedster's face.

The slim-muscled man reached for his eyes. The angry heroine decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. At a low intensity, her repulsor sent the snow-top jerk bouncing away.

The Unicorn grabbed the two girls by their waists and flew toward the van where Giant-man waited. Both girls would have asked how she did that, but the joy of finding an ally pushed back any questions.

They landed by the van just as Giant-man was turning the corner of the vehicle to see what Yolanda was doing.

"I found Quicksilver," She said with mixed alarm and anger. "The big, brave man was terrorizing these girls."

Both girls recognized the hero's uniform. Lorna felt a great sense of relief, but it was Tabatha who charged and gave him with a frightened hug.

Giant-man's growing anger stopped mid-way to accept the girl's embrace. Police were attending a second White Rock delivery truck that was coasting to a stop at the inspection area. Giant-man called over two police men and charged them to draw their guns.

Spider-man arrived at the Triborough. He didn't have to look long to find four late model luxury cars, six police cars, four vans and one bomb unit truck close to the East River's edge. The area had street lamps and a fire hydrant, but it was much neglected. The sidewalk and blacktop roadway fought with the ground underneath it for dominance of the surface. " Isolated area for the bomb search" fit the description.

All of a sudden, the crimson figure of the tree-size Giant-man appeared to his left, nearly a block away. Spider-man headed in that direction. He landed on the roof of the green soda truck. Police dogs barked their surprise over the newcomer. That was okay, he didn't plan to stay there. He was about to leap forward towards Giant-man when he stopped.

Was the big lug struggling to keep his balance? What was happening? His concern for the giant was interrupted by a strong alert coming from his spider-sense.

It was aimed at the driver's cabin underneath him. A cop was on the driver's side of the truck. The officer's eyes were shifting between Spider-man and the protesting driver.

The nervous driver not only refused to open the side cargo bays of his truck for the inspection, but he had no intention of getting out of the cab.

All the way down Second Avenue the residual effects of the marijuana was having its way with Zhi Ming Xu.

He was sure that everyone was out to get him. The American, Posey, had a plastic smile that exposed the lie. In truth, Posey hated him. The two armed guards who were in the front seat were jealous of him. Why else was he sitting in that cargo area of the box truck?

He'll show them, he'll show them all. He wasn't just a little kid that they could take advantage off. He looked back at the mechanical powerhouse that sat against the right wall of the truck. He could get into it right now and show these two goons that he wasn't to be trifled with. Yes he could. He slid off of his seat and approached the strapped-down behemoth.

Spider-man saw the circle of cops closing in. To the questioning officer, the driver's fear was strengthening, but not because of the blue uniforms that were converging, nor the thump that he heard on the roof when Spider-man landed.

The driver kept looking at his "helper." This unemotional man was looking straight ahead. Even as two officers were approaching his window from the right, he didn't surrender his hypnotic stare. The driver's angry refusals had completely turned into frightened pleas to let the truck go through.

The youthful adventurer atop the truck was motioning with his hands for the officers to back away. But the cop who was questioning the driver had forgotten Spider-man's presence. He yanked open the door. He elbowed the truck driver away and took the ignition key.

The officer stepped away and again demanded that both men come out. This time the cop had his hand on his holstered gun. Hearing the determination of the angry policeman, the silent rider's head slowly turned to the cop.

The panicky driver looked at the silent man and then he turn back to the cop. The driver pulled the door closed, and yelled through tears, "Pleeease, let us go."

The officer on the driver's side pulled out his revolver. Spider- man senses went wild. The frightened man again looked at the helper beside him. When that second man moved, the driver crunched himself, elbows against his chest, hands behind his head.

The driver let out a blood-curdling scream. Instinctively, Spider-man shot a web onto the officer and with a mighty one-handed tug, flung him to the back of the truck. In the space of half a second, the heroic youth got on his knees in an attempt to look through the windshield. Before he could do that, the horrific scream ended with a thunderous sound.

The entire truck shook. The driver and the door flew into the police men who were coming to the aid of the first cop. Spider-man couldn't believe his eyes. Injured policemen were on the ground many yards from where they first stood. The driver and the door were still skidding on the ground.

Spider-man saw the powerful man leap out of the car from the opening he had created and calmly walk towards the main street, Second Avenue. He was about to pounce on him when the other policemen opened fire on the man. They had positioned themselves behind their cars anticipating return fire, but the man had no weapons.

Spider-man jumped away fearing the possibility of a stray bullet finding him. The bullets bounced ineffectually off the silent figure. He turned back to the 8-ton White Rock truck and hoisted it in the air. The police scattered, as the truck landed on their vehicles.

"Giant-Man," Clint Barton exclaimed as he looked over the arms dealer's shoulder and saw the behemoth magically appear. The dealer turned and ran, saying, "He's on to us."

The archer knew better. The giant appeared unsteady, drugged. Hey, wouldn't this impress his beloved Natasha. Clint could move in and polish off one of Iron Man's Avengers buddy. Yeah, that would score high with her. Then he'd go after metal-britches later. Clint opened his trunk and took what appeared to be a golf club bag out. Yep, he thought, this is going to be sweet!

As the white cargo truck ascended the Second Avenue ramp to the Triborough, Xu was already inside of the mechanical man planning his surprise. But the guards' wild exclamations gave evidence that they looked upon another surprise.

Xu had bent the mechanical man's waist to allow him a better look through the windshield. Blocks away they saw the America hero, Giant-man. At a monstrous size, he was holding his head, appearing ill.

What a perfect opportunity to show the guards, to show the world that Zhi Ming Xu was a champion of Champions. He would be crossed by no one.

The second shouts from the guards came as the motorized man-thing tore through the roof and sides of the truck as if they were tissue paper.

His car window was rolled halfway down. As he came to the ramp leading to the Triborough Bridge, Arthur Shapiro heard gunfire. Forgetting who was sleeping in the back seat, he screamed "What is that?"

Paul Duval snapped up to a sitting position. A white delivery truck suddenly exploded in front of them. Gun fire was heard. From the right side of the windshield, Duval saw Giant-man and a flying green truck more than three quarters of a mile away. His eyes somehow didn't stay on the shattered truck as Arthur swerved around and in front of it.

His still dazed mind made the foggy connection between the explosion, the gunfire, the sight of Thor's ally— Giant-man— and a flying truck…. THOR HAD FOUND HIM!

Duval took off the blue rubber gloves form his hands. He touched his face and and moved a hand into his shirt. He was instantly transformed into a statute. It was too much for Arthur. The attorney slammed the brakes to stop the car and screamed like a little girl.

It was also too much for Frederick "The Blob" Dukes. 30 minutes ago he had asked his pal Swen to detour from their route. He wanted to stop off at a Second Avenue deli that he knew about.

Now, Swen and Fred's eyes widened when they saw what looked like a flying soda truck three blocks away. Curiosity overtook Dukes. He handed his shopping bag with seven deli sandwiches and ten Pepsi Colas to his pal.