Chapter Nine
-Earlier, Tecchy Joe's-
"My name is The Beetle. And I am your end, Spider-Man."
Peter stood in an aisle of Tecchy Joe's, rapidly trying to find the source of his bodiless visitor. The store was full, but no one was paying Peter any mind. He remembered the day and realized he wasn't losing his mind. Beetle had been communicating with him all morning. But how?
"My end? You're going to have to be more specific than that." Peter saw Harry and Joe talking two aisles over.
He tried to be discreet, communicating with his new friend.
"I am the one who will exterminate you, Spider-Man, unless you do exactly as I say."
Peter smirked. Whatever game Beetle was playing amused Peter. This was a first for him.
"Okay, what do you have in mind, Mr. Beetle?"
"I know you're out shopping with your friend. In your civilian identity, no doubt. You're going to leave immediately. Don't say anything to your friend, and head directly for the Sixth Street subway station."
Peter casually walked to the window of the store. He peered out, looking at the neighboring windows and rooftops. He couldn't see anybody stealthily spying, and his spider-sense remained silent.
Peter rubbed his chin while walking around the store, "And if I don't?"
"Then our little game goes up a difficulty level. Perhaps I'll bring in another player. Like your friend, what was his name? I believe it was, Harry."
Peter froze in his steps. His face became serious. Whatever Beetle wanted, Peter could handle. But threatening his friends, by name no less, struck a chord with him. At that moment, he stopped thinking like Peter, and Spider-Man took control.
"What's the matter, Spider, Beetle got your tongue? Now do exactly as I say."
Peter knew he had to handle this situation immediately. The downside was that he would have to ditch Harry. He was already in the doghouse with Gwen for doing the same thing, but he couldn't let these threats stay idle. Peter made the tough choice to follow his gut and have Spider-Man deal with The Beetle.
Peter typed on his phone as he walked to the entrance. He sent Harry a 'sorry, gotta go' text and opened the door. He looked back at Harry one last time and made direct eye contact. They stared at each other momentarily when Harry's phone dinged. Harry looked down at his phone, but when he looked back up, Peter was gone.
Peter had stepped out of the store and around the side of the alley. With no one around, he webbed to the roof and gave himself some privacy.
Peter took a deep breath and considered all of the information. He knew The Beetle had been speaking to him all day at different places. Peter theorized that since his spider-sense had been quiet all day, he wasn't experiencing some type of psionic attack. So, Beetle must not be actively following him. Beetle had limited information about him, so he must only have access to what he's hearing. Peter figured Beetle was doing this with technology. But how? Peter's best guess was some type of two-way communicator.
Peter started checking his clothes. Nothing on his jacket, shirt, and pants. Nothing on his shoes either. He sat back against an air conditioning unit and furrowed his brow. Then it dawned on him. The Spider-Man suit. Peter had been wearing it under his clothes for some time now. That had to be it. He ripped his civilian clothes off and frantically searched his suit. Behind his left shoulder, near his neck, he found a tiny metal beetle-shaped device. This had to be it.
A look of determination washed over Peter's face. Beetle had yet to learn what Spider-Man was capable of. But he was going to find out shortly. He decided to play Beetle's game.
"Okay, Beetle. I'm at the Sixth St. Station. What now?"
Peter lied to Beetle, trying to see where this would go.
"Now you will head five blocks East, then four blocks South. Stop once you reach the intersection. And don't dawdle. I know it takes exactly 18 minutes and 42 seconds to reach that intersection by foot."
Crap. Peter couldn't waste any time. If Beetle knew, down to the second, how long it would take to reach the destination, Peter would have to work quickly.
Peter tried to give himself a buffer, "There's a lot of people out shopping for Christmas; it might take me longer."
"Then you better be quick. How about I ease your tension with my story."
Peter rolled his eyes, "If you have to, I guess."
As Beetle started monologuing, Peter flipped into action. If Peter were to stop Beetle, he'd have to start with the communicator.
Peter crawled down the side of Tecchy Joe's and pushed a window open. When no one looked, he webbed a laptop and snatched it off the shelf. He snagged a couple of cords to help with his endeavor. Peter quickly popped the outer shell of the drone, exposing the circuitry inside.
Peter used the cords and computer to connect to the drone. Time was ticking. He furiously typed on the computer, accessing essential DOS functions to figure out as much as possible. Peter found a communication command list. Perfect, but that only explained how Beetle was communicating with him.
Peter checked his watch. He still had just over 12 minutes left. Beetle was still jabbering on about his life. Something about hacking school networks. Peter didn't care; he wasn't listening anyway. He continued digging through the files on the drone until he found something called location data. Peter accessed the data and hit the jackpot.
Multiple location points were stored on the drone, resembling flight patterns. The drone kept GPS locations for every stop it made. Peter tracked the data back to its starting point. Peter tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.
The direction commands Beetle gave him were just a few blocks away from the starting data point of the drone. Peter rubbed his chin. He figured that the starting point must be Beetle's base of operations. And suppose the location Beetle commanded Peter to go to was only a few blocks away. In that case, it's probably where Beetle was working from.
Peter had a choice to make. Beetle's directions were definitely leading to a trap. If he could ambush Beetle at his base, he could wrap things up quickly. But what if he was wrong? What if Beetle knew more than he let on? If Peter didn't follow Beetle's orders, Harry could get hurt. It was a high-risk gamble. Peter was lost in thought, but Beetle snatched him back to reality.
"Do you want your friends to die, Spider?! Harry, MJ, May?! I know everything about you, Spider! Now answer me before I kill everyone you hold dear!"
If Peter was wavering on what to do, hearing Beetle threaten the people he cared for steeled his resolve. He had to take a chance on his gamble. His mind was made up. He suited up entirely and stashed his civilian clothes on Tecchy Joe's roof. He webbed up the computer and cords, placed them gently back inside Joe's, webbed an adjacent building, and swung off at full speed.
Time was up, and Peter had to give Beetle something. He lied, saying, "Okay, okay, I'm here. Just…just don't hurt my friends, okay? I made it all the way. Sixth St, five blocks East, four blocks South. What now?"
"You should be in front of a boarded-up building. I left a window panel askew for an entrance. Enter the building and climb the stairs to the second floor. On that floor is a single room. Enter that room."
As Peter swung around the block, he found what he figured was Beetle's base and landed on the opposite roof. The windows were dingy and partially covered, but Peter could make out most of the room. Tech strewn about, a few chairs, a wide desk with computers, and a man standing before it. It looked like he was wearing armor.
Peter stomped the roof and mimicked rustling noises to throw Beetle off. He had to make it convincing. Maybe Beetle would leave and try to attack him. If that was the case, Peter would have the drop on him.
Peter readied himself, "Okay, Beetle. I'm here. What now?"
"Now, you die. Goodbye, Spider-Man."
Peter started to reply, but a moment later, the building he was supposed to be in exploded with a massive fury. The force of the explosion rushed past him. Peter's gamble paid off, but he wasn't out of the woods yet. It was time to finish Beetle's game.
Peter shot two webs to the adjacent building. He pulled backward and launched himself at Beetle's back window. He smashed through it and flipped onto the ceiling. Peter shot two webs at Beetle, wrapping his arms around his body.
"Tag, you're it!" Peter quipped.
Beetle squirmed in his spot, dumbfounded that Spider-Man was right before him.
"Impossible. You should be a burnt husk right now!"
Peter shrugged as he hung from the ceiling, "Sorry to disappoint, Beetle. Ready for round two?"
Beetle stopped wriggling and lowered his head. He began to laugh as he slowly made eye contact with Spider-Man.
"Oh, I am more than ready. Remember, I am the superior insect species."
With a furious shout, Beetle stretched out his wings and broke free from his webbed restraints. He floated above the floor and pointed at Spider-Man.
"You may not have fallen for my ruse, but you will fall before me! I designed and crafted this armor to withstand greater forces than you could ever hope to achieve. I am the pinnacle. I was here before you, and after you, I shall remain. There is nothing you could-"
Beetle stopped mid-sentence. He dropped back to the floor, "What…what are you doing?"
Peter was stacking chairs and moving them next to a desk at the back of the room. He made sure everything was steady and positioned himself behind the stack.
Peter pulled something from his beltline, "Oh, nothing. Just getting out of the way."
Beetle grew frustrated, his voice dripping contemptuously, "You petulant child. There is no place you can hide from me. Do you think your little fort will protect you?"
"No, no, this isn't to protect me from you. This is to protect me from this."
Peter tossed the item he pulled directly at Beetle. It stuck to his chest plate with a sticky thud.
Beetle looked down at his chest, then back up to Spider-Man, "That's it. That's all you have to offer?"
He grabbed the sticky device and pulled it from his chest. He looked back at Spider-Man, but he was hiding entirely behind his makeshift fort. Beetle started to say something, but the device beeped and exploded in his hand.
The Web Wrap 2.0 exploded in every direction, latching on to every object it touched, including Beetle. Peter jumped up from behind his fort and shot a web-line directly at the Web Wrap 2.0. As he yanked the device, it pulled Beetle toward him, down on the floor. Beetle was followed by every object the webs attached to. Beetle was buried in a mound of furniture and technology. Peter approached the pile and stood in a ready position.
A moment later, Beetle erupted from the pile, ripping the webs and smashing the furniture. Beetle spread his wings to escape and tried flying out the front window. He flew a few feet to the window before he crashed face-first into his workbench. His wings were webbed at the base, gumming the mechanism and preventing flight.
Beetle spun around to curse at Spider-Man but was caught with a ferocious kick to the face. His helmet smashed into his face, leaving a foot-shaped dent and knocking him unconscious.
As Beetle lay motionless on the floor, Peter took the opportunity to snoop around his base of operations. Their fight caused much damage, so the place was a mess. Peter tried checking the computer for any other secrets Beetle might have been hiding, but the monitors were ripped from the desk by the Web Wrap 2.0.
"Dang. So much for checking his DMs. I really wanted to see his Beetles Only profile."
Peter kicked a few items on the floor, moving around to see what he could find. Broken furniture, pieces of tech, and supplies to build a bomb. Peter was about to call it quits when he noticed something in the corner. An opened crate untouched by their scuffle. As Peter approached it, his eyes grew wide. Advanced technology. Really advanced technology. More advanced than any of the other stuff Beetle had in his base. As Peter rummaged through the crate, he realized this was the same tech he had been chasing for months. This left him scratching his head.
How was Beetle connected to Kingpin? Did Kingpin send Beetle after him? Peter was confused as to why he was targeted by Beetle in the first place. They had never crossed paths before, and Beetle had gone to a lot of trouble to kill Spider-Man. This is the second time he had been lured into a trap. Peter could feel that this was far from over, but he would take every win he could get.
Peter webbed the unconscious Beetle up into a cocoon and slung him over his shoulder. With his foe in tow, he jumped out of the window and swung toward the smoldering trap intended for Spider-Man. Emergency crews were working to contain the structural fire. Luckily, that block of buildings was designated for reconstruction. B&T Construction had marked several buildings as being under their contract. That included the one currently torched by Beetle.
Peter landed behind fire crews but just past the police barricade. He dropped Beetle on the ground as two police officers approached him.
"Here you go, boys. This is the little firebug that caused this explosion."
Spider-Man turned and pointed at Beetle's base, "You'll find all the evidence you'll need at that building right over there."
The officers looked at each other and sighed. One got on the radio to call it in while the other shook Spider-Man's hand.
"Thanks, Spider-Man. You won't hear it from some of the people on the force, but you'll hear it from me. You saved my cousin about two months ago. You're forever a hero in my eyes."
Peter thanked the officer and webbed away, swinging down the city block.
With this little fiasco out of the way, Peter could focus on his other goals, like passing his finals and getting MJ the perfect gift. Only a few days remained before the party. It was getting down to the wire. Peter needed to figure something out and do it quickly.
-The Following Evening, The Old Picker-
Adrian Toomes sat in a chair on the top floor of his nightclub. He sat in silence, rubbing his bald head. 4 of Toomes' personal security entered the room, but he waved his calling birds off and sent them back downstairs. It had been less than a productive week for Toomes and his crew. Rhino had nearly botched the whole operation before it could properly begin. Kingpin had been breathing down his neck. And to top it off, his most senior assassin's plan blew up in his face. All thanks to Spider-Man.
Toomes had a severe and determined look on his face. He stared out of the window, looking over the city. He reminisced on the old days. The days when he was virile and didn't need others to do his work. Old age had left him weak and stuttering. He knew he didn't have much time left on the Earth. And he refused to go out with a whimper.
The elevator dinged, and Mac Gargan stepped off.
"Boss, I got the take from tonight's games. We hit a record number. Lots of lonely schmucks this time of year."
Gargan dropped the case of cash and chips on the war table. Toomes ignored Gargan and continued looking out the window. Gargan paused briefly and scratched his head. He walked over to Toomes and stood beside him.
"I get it, boss. We've been dealt a few losing hands lately. The Spider is causing more trouble than we anticipated. But we aren't folding yet."
Gargan grabbed a chair and slid it next to Toomes. He sat next to him.
"Let me run at him. I'll take him down before he even knows what hit him. That's my specialty, boss. The Beetle was too loud. He probably talked his way into an ass whooping."
Toomes didn't move. Gargan continued.
"I don't mean to rub salt in your wounds, but Beetle was a hack. He thought he was so smart. But he got beat by a guy who does parkour and wears spandex."
Gargan stood up and moved in front of Toomes.
"Let me show you how a real man handles problems. You need to recognize the talent you have available. Who else is gonna do this for you? I'm the best guy you got, Toomes."
Gargan stood proudly in front of Toomes. This was the chance he had been waiting for. If Gargan could prove himself to Toomes by killing Spider-Man, he'd be set for life. This was a big job, and nailing it meant he'd become number two behind Toomes.
Toomes slowly lifted his head and looked at Gargan.
"You're right, Gargan. It's past time I started recognizing the talent before me."
Toomes stood from his chair and snarled at Gargan.
"And I don't see a damn thing in front of me."
Gargan looked surprised and a little hurt.
"The best I got? It isn't you, and it damn sure isn't Beetle!"
Toomes got right in Gargan's face. His fury was fueling his spirit. Although Gargan had at least five inches on Toomes, he was diminished by Toomes' anger.
"For too long, I've let you and others do my work. I told myself, 'You're the boss; this is what you're supposed to do.,' but not anymore."
Toomes grabbed Gargan by the collar and pulled him close.
"I haven't killed anyone in six years. Not since someone got the drop on me and put a bullet in my head. Hell, if it wasn't for Kingpin, I'd be worm food right now. I won't be failing this job. Not because of Kingpin. And definitely not because of stupid idiots like you."
Toomes pushed Gargan away. He hobbled over to a cabinet with massive doors.
"No, no. You see, Gargan, I should've handled this myself from the beginning. I'm the best. And you, Kingpin, and Spider-Man will all see exactly why."
Toomes ripped open the doors to reveal a set of massive, green metal wings. The hardened feathers were as sharp as razors. A green flight suit and helm adorned the wall between the wings. Toomes grabbed the pointed helmet and held it in his hands.
"It's time for the Vulture to fly again."
-Later, the Day Before the Party-
Peter opened the door to his house and walked into the living room. May was cooking food for a special Christmas luncheon FEAST hosted the next day. It was something new she had organized that year. She assigned several people with what to bring. One brought sides, one brought drinks, one brought ham, and May took care of the chicken. Or the 3 French Hens, as she called them affectionately, although they were bought from an Italian deli. Peter plopped down on the couch, looking absolutely defeated.
He had spent the last few days since the Beetle fight cramming for his finals. All of the studying and hard work had paid off, however. He aced all of them. Harry and Gwen shared a similar fate. They were going into their last winter break with straight A's. Any other time, Peter would be ecstatic. But one thing was keeping him from being on cloud nine.
MJ's present was still eluding him. When he wasn't studying, he looked at store after store to find the perfect gift. But everything Peter chose needed to be better. At least, that's what he told himself. Peter would beat himself up over every choice he made. With less than twenty-four hours to go till the party, Peter was ready to throw in the towel.
May walked into the living room and greeted Peter.
"Hey, Pete! You're home earlier than I thought. I figured you'd be scarfing down victory pancakes at Gina's."
Peter wrung his hands in frustration, "I wish. I've spent every available second since my last test shopping for MJ's present. And I can't find anything worth getting."
"I don't know what to do, May." Peter looked at May with desperation.
May wiped her hands on her apron and sat next to Peter.
"It's okay, Pete. You've been working really hard. I want you to know I'm proud of you."
She was sincere, as always. As she comforted Peter, she suddenly perked up.
"Hold on, I'll be right back." May stood up and walked into the next room.
Peter waited patiently, lost in a sea of his anxiety. May returned a moment later and handed Peter a playbill.
"Here you go, Pete. After we talked the other day, I thought about something cute to get Mary Jane. When Ben and I were younger, we would go to a show once a month. Ben loved live theater. Musicals, straight plays, on Broadway, off-Broadway, it didn't matter. One year around this time, we caught one of the revivals of this show. Afterward, we got all of the main cast to sign the playbill. Sometimes, we'd get lucky with one or two actors, but that time, we got all of them."
Peter looked at the signed playbill. The show was It's a Wonderful Life. Peter's eyes lit up with excitement but dimmed thinking about Ben.
"May, I can't take this."
"Of course you can, Pete. When you told me MJ was doing that show, I remembered this playbill. I found it that night, but was saving it in case of emergency. It's yours. I'm sure MJ will love it."
Peter was dumbfounded. All of the stress and anxiety he had put himself through washed away from him. He sighed with relief. Tears started forming in his eyes as he hugged May tightly.
"Thank you so much, May. You are a lifesaver!"
May smiled and hugged Peter back. "Love you, Pete."
"Love you too, May."
Peter and May's moment was sweet but cut short by the kitchen timer dinging in the kitchen.
"My hens!" May exclaimed as she ran to the kitchen.
Peter held the playbill in his hands. A goofy smile plagued his face. With all three of his recent problems satiated, Spider-Man had time for patrolling.
-A Few Hours Later-
Peter stood atop one of the tallest buildings in the city. He surveyed the town, taking in the beauty of it all. The last eleven days had been a whirlwind of stress and anxiety. Peter was stretched in every direction. But his commitment never wavered. He aced his finals, took down some bad guys, and lucked out with the perfect gift for MJ. Peter took a deep breath and sighed with elation. His phone started vibrating in his pants.
It was a reminder notification about the party. Peter smiled, looking at his phone. With nothing holding him back, he would start his winter break on a high note.
Peter fell off the roof of the building and webbed an adjacent structure to aid his momentum. As he swung through the city, he observed the crowds of people. All of them had their own cares and concerns. The way Christmas cheer spread through the city made everything seem at peace. Peter continued swinging, lost in the moment, content with his life.
As Peter swung around the block, his momentum was cut short by sharp, metal talons gripping his chest and shoulders. He was ripped from his web and dragged through the air. Peter screamed in pain and terror. He looked up to see a man wearing a green armored flight suit. Two giant wings propelled them across the city. The man was wearing a helmet with a sharp pointed beak.
The vulture made eye contact with Spider-Man.
"You're mine, Spider-Man!"
End Chapter Nine
