Author's Note: All properties are the rights of their respective owners, Marvel, Respawn Entertainment, etc.

Another round of NFL Playoffs, another week of me wondering if any NFL Refs will take up the offer of free Lasik procedures.

This is the first time (On a spidey story at least) that I've gotten to feature Beast in Black, a very cool Scandinavian Synth Metal band that I saw live a year or so ago where they put on a great show. They're supposed to release a fourth album soon, but each of their first three has a unique feel and it made sense to go for the more tech-y Dark Connections for this chapter's title, even if our heroes aren't quite going to Mars, I'm saving 'One Night in Tokyo' for the off chance this story does actually go to Japan in the future.

I tried, but couldn't find a Skrillex track that I was happy with, and it really only made sense to use 'Imma try it out.'

Authority Without Asking – Chapter 6: Highway to Mars

Another tempest grows
Unexpected danger zone
The point of no return
She walks into my life
And lets the bullets fly

"I could get used to this," hummed Felicia from the seat beside Matthews, with MJ and Peter sitting across from them, the two couples facing each other in the passenger space of the Sable International executive transport. The Augusta Westland AW109 Grand Versace and its crew were usually tasked with VIP transport, carrying the rich in the lap of rotorcraft luxury, but Sablinova had assigned them to carry the four Americans as they followed the trail. The intelligence about the AMMUs being on the Alkimos had been spectacularly false, as neither they nor the US Navy crew had found any sign of them, but there was clear evidence of a plot. Sable, eager to take the fight to the elusive organization, had directed the group to find out what Hydra wanted on Colossus.

"Maybe Sable'll let us borrow her again if we ever want to come back here, for a proper vacation," mused Matthew, enjoying the comfortable leather seat and the view out the window of the blue Mediterranean waters below.

Mary Jane interjected, "I thought that's what this was for you guys?"

Felicia shook her head, "Nah, if it were a vacation I'd have packed more lingerie," she quipped with a grin.

The light banter was interrupted by a ping in their earpieces, "Zofia here, the helicopter is on final approach, you will be down soon. The good news is that we have upgraded you all to VIP status, which means your wristbands give access to most areas," explained the intelligence officer.

"And the bad news?" asked Peter as the helicopter turned and the nose flared.

"Except the ones we actually want," finished the Lieutenant.

"That's why we spent yesterday planning," replied Cooper as he looked out at the massive floating city paradise called Colossus. Constructed off the coast of Algeria, it was vaguely circular, and covered nearly eight square miles, with powerful thrusters and turbines powered by Stark Tech Arc Reactors helping keep the ship out of harms way. There were three distinct towering constructs coming off it, each semi circular spoke coming from the center of the craft, covered in windows, and the space between them filled with pools and palm trees. A tropical paradise between mainland Europe and the Sahara desert, the resort featured shops, entertainment, and fine dining establishments.

The group wasn't there for any of that, they wanted Aurora, whatever that was.

Cooper barely felt the bump from the 109s' tires kissing the tarmac, and silently acknowledged how good the pilots were as he stood up and retrieved his bags. Opening the doors and stepping down the stairs, Cooper had to raise his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun high overhead until he pulled a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket and slipped them over his eyes. The rest of the group had done the same as they emerged, and they all paused to take in the floating city.

Their helicopter had landed amongst a cluster of helipads, all with equally nice helicopters resting upon them, down below were docks filled with yachts that were not much cheaper than the choppers. Stationed around the area were visibly armed security guards, cameras kept a vigilant watch on the group as they made their way along the path to the reception lobby. Matthew heard Mary Jane mutter under her breath, "So this is how the 1% live."

"It is the richest city in the world," hummed Peter as they reached the doors, Cooper feeling the blast of AC on his face as they slid open to reveal a security checkpoint. Seeing a group of men in hardhats and orange vests removing their tool belts in one lane, the four Americans went to the other, loading their bags onto a conveyer before stepping through the long hallway, scanners on all sides.

Cooper could feel the intense energy prickling at his skin, even through the jeans and SRS adorned leather jacket he wore. But when an alarm blared and the gates ahead closed, Matt nearly jumped out of his bots, arm squeezing the Sand Viper kept in its specially designed holster under his jacket, meant to ensure it didn't show up on any scanner. "Remain calm," instructed Kaniak over the comm as Matt whipped around and saw that Peter remained cool.

"Stay where you are!" shouted a guard, and Matt saw through the x-ray like display on the side of the neighboring tunnel that the guard there was confronting the construction workers, their boots glowing bright red. "The scanner's picked up the presence of hazardous materials."

Matt almost laughed at the coincidence while the workmen plead their case, "Woah! This must be a misunderstanding, we were just at the worksite downstairs, it must be from there!"

The guard ahead of the Americans stepped aside and ushered them through to grab their waiting bags. "Damnit Zoph, thought we were burned that time," cursed Felica, but there was a hint of playfulness in the heiress' tone.

"Relax, Ms. Hardy. Those are the same scanners that Sable International uses, we are well aware of their capabilities, and we assured you the shielding would work. The scanner could not see a thing," rebuked the Intelligence Officer.

Shaking his head and grabbing his bags, Matthew walked through the reception area, noting the pristine tile and art adorned walls, with a beautiful woman pleasantly smiling at the reception desk waving them through as the four flashed their wristbands to the reader on the desk. "That's it?" asked Peter as they entered the lobby.

"Most of these rich sumbitches are lazy as shit," grunted Cooper as they walked past a bevy of advertisement boards, each changing to include the four, all featuring the marketed products, necklaces and other jewelry on Felicia and MJ, while others showed Peter at a poker table in one of the resort's casinos, and Matt, bikini clad girl on his arm, wearing designer sunglasses. The Texan was shaking his head at the advertisement before he turned to Felicia and said, "I think you'd look better than that, don't you?"

"So would you," she returned with a cheeky grin before she made for the elevators. Dressed as she was, ripped black jeans that hugged her curves and studded black jacket over a dark red v-neck top that left plenty of cleavage exposed, she attracted eyes from the rest of the lobby. All four gathered in a glass walled elevator, Felicia tapping on the screen while the others marveled at the view, as the lift was on the.

"This place is unbelievable," said Mary Jane in awe, "How much do you think it'd cost to spend a weekend here?"

"More than you make in a year," replied Matthew, shaking his head at how half the cars in his garage cost less than a weekend here. The elevator began to slow, and when the door opened, Matt led the group out and down the hallways until they arrived at a pair of joining rooms, waving his wrist band in front of the door. After a subtle beep, the Pilot twisted the handle and went inside, throwing his bags down on the bed while Felicia and Peter pulled out a pair of gadgets and swept the room.

"We're clear, no bugs," reported Peter while Cooper opened their luggage and began passing out the equipment they'd brought.

Mary Jane and Felicia both had similar kits, featuring a handful of tools selected by the Black Cat that would allow them to bypass most security and open nearly any lock, physical or electronic, all held in a modified shoulder holster. Felicia's held her FN Five-seveN handgun with affixed suppressor and twenty SB-193 subsonic 5.7x28mm rounds loaded in the magazine, while a CZ P-10 C OR SR, with its own suppressor, aimpoint red dot, and 17 subsonic 9x19mm parabellum cartridges. Tucked on the other side was a Sable International Stingray, a new less lethal straight blowback weapon that fired pellets from specially loaded .32 ACP cartridges down an integrally suppressed barrel before being caught by the charging ARC energy at the muzzle. The girls shucked off their jackets so they could strap on the rigs. "That everything?"

"Should be," answered Felicia as she pulled her jacket back on, "We'll scope the place out while you boys get into position, we'll make our move when you're ready." Cooper gave her a nod and she gave him a quick kiss before she departed.

"Go get 'em Tiger," wished Mary Jane, giving Pete a peck of her own before the two women went out the door.

Once it was closed, Cooper opened the other, larger case, and tossed Peter his webshooters, the Webhead quickly strapping them on before Cooper followed up with a bag that the New Yorker slung over his shoulder before the Texan took off his own jacket. On went a combat harness, just a set of straps that allowed him to carry a half dozen magazines, a few flash bang and smoke grenades, shoulder holster, and Data Knife. Lastly came the MCX Rattler, stock folded up to make the .300 blackout rifle as compact as possible. Slinging the gun over his shoulder and tucking it under his right arm, Matt threw his jacket back on, ensuring all his gear was covered. Pulling out a small backpack, Cooper checked that his jump kit and a few other items were inside before zipping it closed and slinging it across his back.

"So far, so good," said Peter as they exited the room and locked it behind them. The Webslinger put a small string of web over the door.

"Man," bemoaned Cooper, "I really wish you didn't say crap like that."

Waving her wristband, Felicia Hardy strutted through the door of the Black Sapphire, projecting the confidence that she wore as well, and as comfortably, as her jeans. Pulling down her sunglasses to give a wink to the doorman, the heiress looked back at MJ, "Lookin' good Red, lean and mean," she teased before seeing the woman tense. "Relax Mary Jane, we're a pair of tens out for a good time."

A nervous laugh emanated from Watson, "You aren't nervous?"

"Not when it's other people's money," quipped Hardy, "What's your pick, Red? Blackjack? Poker? Craps?" asked Felicia as the pair walked past each game on their way to the window. Eyes scanning the room, Felicia saw the expected sorts of people getting their money taken from them, old men with bored supermodels floating around, younger men with more hair gel than money, a few celebrities she recognized with their entourages crowding more than a few games. One person did catch her eye, a woman with short red hair, wearing a cropped gold jacket and black pencil skirt, with a big pile of chips on the table in front of her, a mark if the Thief had ever seen one. "I know, roulette," decided the platinum blonde before turning to the teller at the window and flashing her wristband, "fifty thousand."

Chips in hand, the pair approached the table, Felica noting the three players at the table. She cast a quick glance at the redhead before seeing the two men, one was young, wearing an expensive suit and sipping a vodka martini, a James Bond wannabe, clearly, while the other was older, balding, with an ill fitting jumper masking a hefty belly, old money. The redhead had the biggest stack of chips, however, and an open spot beside her, which Felicia sauntered up to, "Betting open?"

"By all means," replied the Croupier as the pair put their chips down.

Felicia bet on black, naturally, a small bet, testing the waters, watching what the other players did. "What? No introduction?" said a feminine voice, tinged with a French accent.

"Felicia," she introduced before gesturing to her partner in crime, "Mary Jane." Snapping her fingers, an attentive waiter appeared at her side, "My treat," said Hardy with a cheshire grin, "What would you like Ms….?"

"Aurore, please," replied the Frenchwoman, red painted lips curling up beautifully, hand pressed over the cleavage of her corset like top before turning to the waiter, "And bourbon, on the rocks."

"The same for me," added Felicia, "And for you, Red?"

"Cosmopolitan," ordered Watson, the waiter scanning Hardy's wristband before making for the bar to fill their orders.

The bets were in, and the wheel was spinning by the time Felicia's eyes were back on the game, the ball had come to a stop inside the spinning wheel. "Twenty, black, even," announced the Corpier.

There was a barrage of groans as the losers had their chips collected, and a smirk on Felicia's face as more arrived in her own stack, along with their drinks. "Last chance, last chance," muttered the younger man as he pushed the last of his chips onto number 21. Aurore and the older man made more conservative bets.

Eying where the placed chips were, Felicia smirked and said, "I'm makin' this one for you, Red," as she put 5,000 on Red, while everyone else had money on black.

The wheel spun, ball clicking around inside, but Felicia's eyes were on the room around her, like MJs, she noted. Watching for guards, cameras, and other security measures. "Hmm… I just realized," began Aurore, prompting Felicia to look back at the woman as she sipped her bourbon, "You must have dirt beneath your fingernails, unless you are like these bastards and bitches, les touristes, who must watch others live to feel anything."

"What makes you say that?" questioned Watson, a slight hint of unease in her tone, worry Felicia lacked.

Subtly putting a reassuring hand on MJs arm, Felicia took a sip, letting the bourbon conceal her displeasure. "It is in your clothes, in your eyes," replied Aurore before taking down her drink and giving Felicia a smile that made the Platinum blonde wish Matt was around and that this was an actual vacation. "Tell me I am wrong." Giving her a sly smirk of her own, Felicia answered with a subtle nod. "I like those who brag about such things."

"Thirty, red, even," announced the Corpier, and Felicia schooled her features, even if she could see MJ's excited grin in her peripheral.

Aurore's smile faded, "A defeat, falt chier," muttered the Frenchwoman.

"Dah! Fuckin' done here," snapped the young man, turning from the table in a huff and storming off.

While Felicia's stack of chips grew, the others were not, "Sorry if we… broke your flow. I'd hate to be the reason you were thrown off your game."

"N'est ce-pas," returned Aurore, leaning against the table and reaching out, tapping her fingers on the table until they were dancing on the back of Hardy's hand. "It is not as if you came just to bring me bad luck."

Holding her gaze, the Black Cat was curious to see just how far Aurore would push things, but just as her fingers reached the thief's forearm, they retreated back to her glass. "Felicia does have a habit of making trouble," supplied Mary Jane as she reached over to take a handful of chips and place them on '1-18' before going back to her cosmopolitan.

The remark didn't phase the thief, "And you have a habit of finding it, might be why I like you so much, Red." Turning back, Felicia sent a glance at the older man at the table, who was scowling at his plummeting stockpile of chips after the last few rounds, his eyes intently watching the ball bounce in the spinning wheel. "But you got me, you stand out, even in a crowd like this one."

"Oh really?" asked Aurore, her eyebrow lifting as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand, "How so?"

"I don't think you have, how'd you put it? 'Dirt under your fingernails,' but your confidence isn't just because of how good you look in that skirt," said Felicia, her grin growing ever so slightly.

Before Aurore could reply, the Corpier called out, "13, odd, black," and set about reallocating the chips, moving them all towards the platinum blonde yet again.

"You seem to be lucky enough," muttered Aurore as she placed her next bet and then slid around Hardy, the platinum blonde feeling the frenchwoman's hand run along her waist while Aurore placed herself between the Americans. "What of you, Mary Jane? Do you share the same luck as your friend?" asked Aurore, and Felicia could guess the look she was giving the editor just by her tone of voice. The hand on Felicia came off and was laid to rest on the table, finger idly running around the lip of her cosmopolitan.

Idly noticing the older man had decided to try his luck elsewhere, Felicia put a few of her own chips down before turning her attention to her left. Mary Jane cleared her throat, "Uh… no, no, I'm definitely not," managed MJ as she hastily snatched her drink away from the Frenchwoman.

Aurore's shoulders slouched ever so slightly as she slid back around Felicia, who didn't mind how the woman's hand brushed against her, and she arrived back at her spot as the roulette wheel came to a stop. "32, red, even," proclaimed the Corpier, much to the chagrin of Aurore, who's pile of chips had dwindled until it was now, for the first time, smaller than Felicia's.

"Darlin,' you there?" came the hushed whispers of Matthew through her earpiece, "We're almost at the IP, ready to get movin'?" he asked in his laid-back southern drawl.

Casting a quick look at MJ, the Black Cat saw her companion had heard the same message she had and gave her an imperceptible nod. "Tell me, Aurore, like the tingle of risk?" asked Hardy, idly playing with her pile of chips.

"Oh ma chérie tu n'en as aucune idée," replied the woman with a wicked grin, hand on an outthrust hip. "What did you have in mind?" In answer, Felicia shoved all of her chips onto the table and into, of course, the black space. "Oooohhh," purred Aurore, "I knew you were a bold one." With that, she pushed her remaining chips into the 'red' spot on the mat. "This way, you or I will win all, and you or I will lose all. How exciting!"

"That's one word for it," muttered Mary Jane, whom Felicia saw was biting her lip nervously. It was understandable, the Black Cat was gambling the better part of a 8 months salary for the Editor, even if that was a trivial amount to her.

The Heiress couldn't help but smirk as the ball began to bounce around the wildly spinning wheel, "C'mon Red, live a little, and…" she trailed off as the ball started to roll into its final resting place, but the outcome was never in doubt, "Have a little faith."

"Six, even, black," announced the Corpier as Felicia collected her winnings, all $115,000 worth.

"Puta merde!" exclaimed Aurore, throwing her head back, but there wasn't much anger at all when she looked back to Felicia. "Congratulations to you," said the Frenchwoman, "But now that you have all of my money, could you answer me a question?" Felicia nodded, the corner of her lips curling up when Aurore's hand came down on hers, "What might you be doing later this evening?"

"My boyfriend," answered Hardy without missing a beat.

That retort only caused Aurore's blue eyes to gleam, "Parfait, he can come too."

"I'm sure he would," quipped Felicia, "But sadly we won't be spending the night here, we have other plans.

The gleam faded, but Aurore's smile remained, "Then I bid you farewell, and good luck, to you both. Not that you need much of that last part," she said before turning and heading out of the Black Sapphire.

Felicia pushed the thoughts she had about the woman out of her mind, "Alright Red, go time," announced the Black Cat as she collected her winnings.

"The office is around the southeast corner, out of sight of the main floor, but I see two cameras, a guard making his rounds over there," whispered Mary Jane. "What do we do first? Security center?"

"No need," answered Felicia nonchalantly, "I recognize that camera model, it's wireless, Bluetooth connection. I've got something special for them. The alarm on the door, however, I need to handle the old fashioned way. Junction box, on the wall in the corner."

"Gotcha," returned the redhead, "You going to take care of it?"

"In a sec," replied Felicia as she watched intently for a moment, "The dealer at the black jack table can see it in the corner of his eye. Think you can distract him? Use that famous Watson charm?"

MJ's lips quirked up, "Something like that," she said with a low chuckle before throwing her hair back and striding towards the unassuming employee. "Hey there," said the redhead, lacking that self assuredness she usually had, "I was wondering if you could help me. I'm kinda new at the whole cards thing. Could you explain something to me?"

"Uh, sure ma'am," replied the dealer, already put on the back foot as Felicia reached into her jacket and flicked the switch on the gadget nestled in her harness before she made her move. Slipping along the wall, Felicia kept an ear out as she neared her target, listening in on the conversation around the blackjack table. "What do you need?"

"So like, I get confused, is a straight better than a flush? What even is a flush?" asked the redhead, coming off slightly ditzy in a way that had Felicia stifling a giggle as she coaxed the panel open with a gentle touch. Setting to work, she was easily able to find the cable for the alarms and took out a little gizmo that had served her well in the past. With dexterous fingers, Felicia unplugged the alarm wire and quickly swapped in the little gadget, which mirrored the power load of the door alarm so as to not arouse suspicion. To anyone watching, there was a temporary glitch that was immediately rectified.

"A flush is five cards of the same suit, ma'am, any five cards," replied the dealer evenly.

"Okay but, what if, like, they're in order?" questioned Watson as Felicia silently shut the panel and turned to give Mary Jane a slight nod.

Seeing the editor tilt her head in acknowledgement, the Black Cat slipped away without drawing suspicion. "That's a straight flush, miss," supplied the dealer.

"Huh, neat, thanks for that, you've been a doll, tootles," bid MJ with a wave before she rejoined a Felicia Hardy that was on the verge of tears.
"Tootles? Seriously?" asked the platinum blonde as she led her companion towards the office.

"What? It worked, didn't it?" rebutted Mary Jane with a sly smirk as they slipped around the corner and towards the office. Upon reaching the door, Felicia went for a set of tools and crouched down, MJ turning to keep a lookout, arms crossed and hand under her jacket. Faced with an electronic door lock with an RFID pad, the accomplished Thief used a new tool that she'd picked up from Sable International, a frequency spoofer that could mirror that of the transmitter until she found the right one, and the indicator light went green.

Putting the gadget back, Felicia stood and pushed down on the door handle. She turned to MJ, "C'mon, let's do this quick before…."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" exclaimed the woman sitting at the desk in the small back office. Felicia, caught by surprise, hesitated for only a second as she thought how best to diffuse the situation, but Mary Jane leapt through the door, whipping out the Stingray and lunging at the woman, jamming the muzzle of the pistol like weapon into her chest before squeezing the grip, activating the ARC current that flickered between the electrodes at the end of the weapon, stunning the woman as she slumped back into her chair.

"So much for coming back for a weekend," quipped MJ as the pair quickly went to work, and soon found what they were looking for. "Ah! Got it!" announced the redhead, holding up a stickey note before pressing a finger to her ear, "Pete, got the elevator code, 2023018003. That work?"

"Sure did, good job MJ!" answered Spider, "We're on our way down now, talk to you soon."

"Good luck Tiger," finished the editor before removing her finger and turning to Felicia, "Now let's hurry up and get out of here," she said as they left the office, closing the door behind them and going down the corridor.

"Not so fast," interrupted Feleica as they reached the end, with cat like quickness, she'd reached out to grab hold of Watson's arm. Pointing away from the exit, the platinum blonde said, "I need to turn in my chips first."

Slowly descending in the elevator towards the Central Records Computer, Peter pulled on the featureless black mask, HUD on the eye lenses coming to life as he looked at Cooper, who was busy strapping on the belt that held his Jumpkit, the futuristic tech connecting to his own modified balaclava, sunglasses covering his eyes. Peter undid his jacket, neatly folding it up and stuffing it in the backpack, along with his pants, revealing the black tactical suit underneath, bits of Kevlar and padding providing a bit of bulk and protection for his torso and thighs. Zipping it up and slinging it over his shoulder, the Webhead bent his knees as the elevator pinged, ready to face whatever was on the other side of the door.

"Relax," intoned Cooper, "This'll be a cakewalk." Peter wasn't so sure, and held his tongue as the Texan checked the pistol holstered on his hip, chambering an ARC 9mm round into the suppressed P226. "Gotta ask man, what's that getup?

"You said not to bring Spider-Man on this mission," retorted the New Yorker.

"Yeah, but… what am I gonna call you?" questioned Cooper.

"I dunno," shrugged the webhead, "Night monkey?"
"I'm not calling you that," retorted Matt bluntly.

Peter was about to make a quippy response when they exited the elevator into an area being remodeled, half complete walls around them as they rounded a corner and saw a pair of men in coveralls at work in an electronics box. But the sight brought Peter to a stop, his sixth sense buzzing at the back of his skull, and a second look caused him to see the guns at their feet. The two pairs stared at each other for a second before Peter's hand shot out and he triggered his webshooter, firing a blast of webbing that slammed one man back into the wall and stuck him there. Before he could turn his attention to the other, Cooper had his handgun out and put a pair of shots into his chest, the less lethal ammunition causing the man to keel over and lay still.

"So much for a cakewalk," quipped Peter as Cooper strode forward, replacing the P226 in its holster and unzipping his jacket to ready the MCX Rattler.

He used the muzzle of the compact carbine to open the bag on the floor, "We got explosives, looks like they want to sabotage the place."

"Cover their escape after they get Aurora?" mused Spider-Man as the pair continued on.

"Probably," agreed the Marauder as they arrived at the door to the server room only to find it left slightly open. Peter couldn't help but fret as Cooper pushed it open and the pair swept in, "Damn, they got here first," cursed Matthew as they saw the bodies of the resort staff left laying in pools of their own blood. "Clear," announced Cooper as he lowered his gun, "Shit, we're too late," he muttered before speaking over the radio, "Central, Marauder Actual, confirmed hostile presence. Hydra forces broke into the computer room and killed the staff. Some of them were planting explosives on an electrical box, it seems they'll sabotage the ship."

"Central copies all. We'll send an alert to Colossus. In Amber Clad is on station and will scramble aircraft to support, ETA is one hour," replied Lieutenant Kaniak, the intelligence officer unsurprisingly on the ball. "What is the status of your mission? Have you located Aurora?"

"Stand by," answered Cooper as they approached the main terminal, "Looks like Hydra already used it, they've locked it down." Peter grabbed the keyboard and tried something, but an angry red popup revealed the futility of that effort. "Fuck this," growled Cooper before he jammed his blade into the wall, the interface of the Data Knife dispensing its futuristic trojan into the system, and the red warning went away, replaced with the logo of Colossus and a proclamation of 'Access Granted.' "We're in Central. Let's see, if Aurora is the AMMUs, maybe smuggled in with supplies. Search supply manifest, keyword 'Aurora.'" The screen flashed through a long list before coming to an end and then returning to the start menu.

"No matches," announced the computer.

"Search automated security systems, keyword 'Aurora," said Matthew, prompting the central computer to go through another rapid search, lists and photographs flashing on the screen before they were met with the same result.

"No matches," it said.

Peter scratched his head through the mask he wore, "We're missing something… the note, it said 'capture' didn't it?" asked the superhero. Cooper nodded and so Peter turned to the screen and said, "Search personnel and passenger lists, keyword 'Aurora.'"

The screen went through its search, culminating with a list of names, and at the top was… "Aurore Cassel," read out Peter, butchering the name, he was sure.

Within a moment, the Sable International Intelligence Officer came over the radio, "Former employee of Tacitus, recently resigned. Wait, what is this?" Peter paused, looking to Cooper to see if he could glean anything from his fully covered face. "She has a Masters in encryption from Oxford. It is possible she worked on the JAPA program."

"Just who Hydra would need to break the encryption algorithms on the stolen files, the person who wrote them," realized Peter.

"But now that we have her name, we can track her on the ship using her biometric ID," realized Cooper before commanding, "Locate Aurore Cassel." The computer did a search, bringing up a schematic of Colossus and highlighting a section at the top of one of the three main towers. "Upstairs, Club Solar."

"That's over by MJ and Felicia," said Peter as he keyed his radio, "MJ, you get all that? We're looking for Aurore Cassel, sounds French? Short haired redhead, looks like she's wearing a gold jacket."

"Shit, we just saw her at the casino!" replied Mary Jane, "Where'd she go?"

"Club Solar, it's on the top floor, find her, get her out, head back towards the helipad," instructed Cooper as he went to the keyboard and brought up the feeds from the security sensors, "Shit, I'm seeing groups, looks like construction workers, but they aren't near the worksite, they're headed there. Get a move on!"

"That's not the only place they're headed," said Peter, feeling his sixth sense tickle his brain before they could hear movement outside the door. At once, both men leapt to the ready, Spider-Man clinging to the wall and the Marauder pressed beside the door when it slid open. The first man came in, his gun up, only for Spidey to leap off the wall and slam into him, driving him back and sending his gun clattering to the ground. The man recovered, taking a swing at the webhead, who ducked down and webbed his hand to the wall before throwing a right cross that sent the man down, held up only by the webbing on his hand.

Cooper had surged through the door, gun up and firing short bursts with speed that came from training and experience, each man he took aim at fell before the Pilot ducked down and slid behind a stack of supplies, jump kit spitting licks of flame to propel him along. Spider-Man swung through the door after him, firing a webline to zip across the construction site, flattening himself to fly between the studs of an unfished wall and drive his feet into another gunman before rolling off and leaping into a table, overturning it as he went to the ground right before bullets peppered the steel.

Sixth sense ringing, the Websligner kept his head down until he saw Cooper toss a flashbang, the cylinder bouncing across the floor before exploding in a blinding magnesium fueled flash. The Marauder popped out of his hiding spot, shuffling forward with his Rattler as he loosed a rapid series of shots, still loud in Peter's ringing ears despite the subsonic rounds and affixed suppressor the gun had.
When his Spidey Sense tingled, the Wallcrawler leapt up to his feet right as a door behind him was kicked open and a Hydra gunman hosed the room down with a deluge of automatic fire that the tactical suited Spider-Man somersaulted through before returning fire with his webshooters, wrapping the guy up before firing a line at either side of the doorframe and pulling the silk taut, flung himself forward, flipping around to deliver an uppercut that sent the man flying up into the ceiling. He smacked into it before tumbling down to the floor, where the webbing held him. His sixth sense prompted Spider-Man to flip to the side as bullets whizzed past, and Spidey fired a line at the man's submachine gun and ripped it from his hands before jumping at him, throwing one punch and then another before jumping up and delivering a spin kick that sent him flying through the half built wall right as he heard more men up ahead.

"Now this is more like New York," called the Marauder as he stuffed a fresh magazine into his gun, "You go left, I go right?"

"Sounds like a plan," replied Peter, raising his fist. The sunglasses looked at him for a moment before the Pilot's fist came up and bumped his own, causing the Webhead to beam dumbly inside his mask. "See you on the other end," he said before leaping up and running along the ceiling, crossing the center corridor before the Hydra soldiers could bring their guns to bear on him. Turning and flipping around, the Wallcrawler fired a line at the ceiling and swung forward, crashing through a glass pane and into the shell of an office space only to be met with a trio of gunmen. Acting on reflex, he fired a webline at a painting on the wall and ripped it off, flinging it at the farthest one as he fired his other webshooter at the nearest one, ducking to his right to stay out of the thirds line of fire before he surged ahead, jumping up and planting both feet in the nearest man's gut, sending him back into the second man and causing them both to go to the ground. The third, having had his gun knocked away by the picture, rushed Spider-Man, only for the Superhero to jump up and flip forwards, bringing his foot down on top of the man's head and knock him down into his friends.

Pulling a web bomb out from one of the suit's pouches, Spider-Man tossed the gadget to the dazed man atop the pile, "Hold onto this for me," he quipped before dashing out of the office and into the central corridor and running to the far end. At the far end, he found himself alone, at least until a door to his right burst open and a Hydra good stumbled back, locked in a fight with the Marauder around the latter's Rattler until the gunman was pinned, his back to the wall. Cooper drew the pistol on his hip and pumped a trio of rounds into his stomach, the gunman twitching before he collapsed in a heap.

"Elevators," said Cooper with a nod towards the bank, down a short flight of stairs and past the reception desk at their base. But Peter could see the indicators light up as his sixth sense blared warningly.

"Down!" he shouted as he yanked his friend behind the half wall at the top of the stairs right when the elevator doors opened and a hail of bullets came out of them. "How many of these guys are there?" wondered the Webhead aloud.

"Always more," deadpanned the Marauder in reply before there was a distinct 'pop!' and massive clouds of white smoke began to fill the lobby below. "With some tricks," he muttered, reaching into his belt to come out with a kunai like blade, "Well mine're better." Popping up, the Pilot slung the blade into the cloud of smoke, and when it stuck to the hardwood floor, it emitted an orange pulse that Spider-Man could see on his HUD, and the pulse illuminated the gunmen advancing through the smoke. The pairs eyes met as they silently nodded and stood, cutting loose with their respective weapons, picking off the approaching gunmen in short order. When the smoke cleared, only their stunned and webbed up bodies littered the floor.

Jumping down, the pair strode passed their fallen foes and into the elevators, Cooper punched one of the buttons and turned to Peter, "And now," he said before pulling off his mask and glasses, "We hit the club."

Spidey pulled off his own mask, both men opening their backpacks to make themselves less conspicuous, but still able to leap into action at a moment's notice. "Now that's more like what I remember 'the old times' being like."

"Felicia, talk to me, you find her yet?" asked Cooper as he approached the entrance of Club Solar alongside Peter. He still wore his jump kit even if it was useless without his balaclava, but the holster for his suppressed P226 was in his pack. He still wore his Sand Viper under his jacket, along with the Rattler, in case the Hydra gunmen were closer than thought.

"Not yet Cowboy, we've searched the bathrooms and bars," replied Hardy, "Are we sure she hasn't…."

"I see her!" interjected Mary Jane, "I'm on the second floor, I see Aurore on the dance floor, right in the middle of it, dancing like she didn't just lose a hundred grand."

Matt turned to Peter, "Go to MJ, keep an eye out for trouble," he said as they flashed their VIP wristbands to the doorman, who stepped aside to let them through, much to the chagrin of the waiting lines of hopeful clubgoers.

"Got it," replied Parker, peeling off to go up a flight of stairs while Matt continued down the main corridor. The hallway was dimly lit, soft orange lights against the smooth black walls and floors, only broken up by long LED screens that depicted the silhouettes of dancing women, offering ambience around the couches and seats were some rested and enjoyed drinks that came from the bar that covered two walls of the bend at the end of the corridor.

Passing by, he noted the looks he got from the group of girls in their short cocktail dresses and couldn't resist a smirk in the dimly lit hallway as he continued towards the source of the pounding electronic music that emanated through the corridor. Passing by a lounge, Cooper arrived at another set of manned doors, the suited guard giving him a nod as they were opened for him, and he went down the hallway, around a bend and down a flight of stairs while heavy, synthy music and a barrage of strobing lights coming through the doorway ahead of him. Rounding the corner, Cooper found himself faced with a circular room with a ring around the perimeter broken up by orange columns. People milled around, either drinking or sitting while watching the laser show going over the lowered dance floor at the center. At the opposite side of the room, a DJ danced along in his booth.

The Texan went left, working his way through the thinnest part of the crowd he could see while craning his head towards the dance floor, hoping to pick out any sign of Felicia or Aurore. Seeing a familiar head of platinum blonde hair towards the center of the dance floor, Cooper shoved someone aside and bull rushed his way down the stairs to wade through the gyrating throngs of people, unafraid to throw his bulk against the crowd as he bullied his way towards the two women. Matthew saw that Felicia had her hands on Aurore's arms, trying to coax her to come with her and failing, judging by the way the Frenchwoman struggled against the thief's grip. Cooper put his left hand on her shoulder, right still held tight to his chest, "We have to go now, Aurore!"

He could see the wide-eyed expression on her face as she looked from Felicia to him and back again, but before they could act, Peter's distraught voice filled Matt's ear. "We got company! At least twenty gunmen just came in the main entrance. They're taking hostages!" alerted the Webhead.

Before he could react, the thunderous echo of a gunshot reverberated through the room, Matthew seeing the DJs head snap back before he collapsed as the music came to a screeching halt, replaced by a cacophony of screams. The crowd reflexively ducked, and Cooper went down too, dragging Aurore into a crouch as he reached into his jacket, hand tightly gripping the Sand Viper. He quickly counted six men, all brandishing assault rifles, but his eyes were focused on the man in front, wearing a set of red and black camoflauged fatigues, plate carrier, full head helmet with thin red visor, and familiar nozzled pack on his lower back. "Crimson," growled Cooper as he watched the man lower his smoking pistol.

Crimson had been an Apex Predator, a mercenary from the same distant future that Cooper had visited, brought to this world during the IMC incursion, only the wayward Titan Pilot had fallen in with Hydra. Matt had tangled with him during the Symkarian Civil War, and knew how formidable Crimson was, with and without a Titan. Brandishing a pistol, the Hydra Pilot snatched a dancing woman by her arm and dragged her up the steps to the DJ booth, his goons arrayed in front of him. "Aurore Cassel!" shouted the Pilot as he held the woman by her hair, despite her feeble struggles. "Aurore!" Crimson called again, Cooper noting the tight grip Felicia had on the Frenchwoman. Crimson pressed his pistol to the woman's head and fired, sending a burst of blood and brain matter to go flying out before tossing her limp body onto the dance floor at the feet of screaming patrons.

One of the goons reached into the crowd and grabbed another woman, who was sobbing as she was yanked away from her friends. "Pete," growled Cooper through clenched teeth, seeing red as he stared at Crimson, "Get down here and the two of us can take this guy."

"What about the rest of the hostages?" asked the Webslinger, not incorrectly. Any fight they started would end in a blood bath.

But the Marauder was sure it would no matter what, and it was better to take the fight on their terms. "FIVE SECONDS!" bellowed the Hydra pilot, jamming his pistol into the woman's neck.

"Gotta go now!" snarled Cooper as he tensed, hand on the Sand Viper.

He wasn't the one to make a move, nor was Peter. Aurore managed to get out of Felicia's grasp and stand, much to Matth's shock. But that wasn't as shocking as when she shouted "NO!" and then turned around to slug Felicia before scrambling forwards to a waiting Hydra gunman.

Now that he had what he wanted, Crimson wasted no time, "Open fire!"

Cooper reacted by hooking his arm in Felicia's and dragging her to her feet, the couple turning to run with the rest of the clubgoers while the club was filled with gunfire from the Hydra goons, bodies hitting the floor as the mob rushed the door. Cooper and Felicia weren't among them, instead leaping over a small bar at the edge of the bowl, sending glasses and bottles flying. Bullets tearing into the bar and wall had Cooper drawing the Sand Viper, feeling the texture of the stippled grip and contour of the flared magwell, he smoothly disengaged the safety of the Taran Tactical pistol and turned to his girlfriend, "Let's kill this sick fuck."

At that moment, the music kicked back on, lights dancing across the walls as a brave gunman pointed his weapon over the bar, allowing Felicia to reach up and grab hold of the barrel, wrenching the G36 as she yanked forwards, pulling its wielder over. Cooper leveled his handgun and fired, putting a 9mm SPEER gold dot round through his head. When the beat dropped, the couple stood, peeking over the bar and turning their guns on the remaining goons in the middle of the dance floor. Working the enhanced lightweight trigger of the Sand Viper, Cooper began unleashing a flurry of rapid, well aimed shots that cut down two more gunmen while Felicia had her stolen carbine in semi-auto, also firing a series of rounds that sent their attackers scrambling for cover.

But they weren't the only ones, a group on the upper ring was trying to flank them, but didn't escape Cooper's notice. "Peel left! Peel left!" he shouted as Felicia sidestepped out of cover, G36 bucking in her hands. That group Matt had been afraid of turned to engage, only for Spider-Man to make his entrance, swinging down to barrel through one before pressing his feet into a column and bouncing off into a second.

The roar of Felicia's rifle brought his focus down to the men in the bowl as the couple ascended the stairs onto the upper ring, and the Marauder passed behind the Thief before raising his pistol again. Laying down more fire, he swung his aim to a goon that popped up to shoot, but wasn't as quick as Cooper, the Trijicon red dot and ported muzzle allowing him to put three accurate shots into the gunman's chest. Swinging the gun back, Cooper's next shot shattered a shot glass before his follow up went between the eyes of another Hydra man, the slide locking back, empty.

Not idle, the Black Cat had clambered over the railing and into a private booth, where she now took up the slack, covering Cooper as his jump kit flared to lift him up to the same level as he flicked the empty magazine out and inserted a fresh one, racking the slide before taking up position at the far end of the sofa. "Three left!" he called out before a flash of movement drew a fast reaction and four fast shots. "Two left!"

His girlfriend leapfrogged him again, "Main door is our out!" she called while he moved to follow her around, firing rhythmically as he shuffled his feet, until he was almost around the bar where the last two were cowered. The pair both decided to go out swinging, coming out all guns blazing, automoatic fire spraying the now deserted club only to get eviscerated by well aimed shots from the pair. On the far side of the room, Spider-Man had webbed down the last of his group, cycling the cartridges in his webshooters. "Clear!"

Matt swapped magazines before putting the Sand Viper on safe and stuffing it back in his jacket, pulling on his mask and pulling out the MCX Rattler while he and Felicia jogged through the carnage on the dance floor, the Thief having discarded her empty carbine and instead had her Five-seveN in hand. "Where'd that sonofabitch go!?" he shouted at Spider-Man as they regrouped and went out the door.

Back in the main hallway, they ran into a grim faced Mary Jane, holding her own handgun. "Crimson ran out the back door with Aurore. But we don't have access to that one," explained the Editor.

"Then we cut him off," answered Cooper instantly, "Whatever happens, we can't let him off this place."

"I'm patched into the security camera feeds," reported Kaniak over the radio, Peter and the rest of the group moving swiftly through the hallways of Colossus, "Still no sign of either HVI, but cameras are seeing unmarked choppers. They must have approached at low level, no transponders. Air support is still 30 minutes out." A series of explosions echoed across the ship, Peter able to faintly hear them through all the metal around him. "Helicopters deploying armed combatants throughout the vessel, still no sign of… wait, I have eyes on HVIs 1 and 2, in the shopping mall in the southeast corner, moving towards the helipad at the perimeter."

Peter couldn't hold back a sigh of relief, that had been the groups guess, but it seemed that Crimson had dragged his hostage through the guts of the ship, the longer, winding route meaning that the group had a decent chance to get there first. "Marauder Actual copies all, Central. Can we get a route?" A moment later, a waypoint appeared on Peter's lenses, giving the group direction as they moved with renewed purpose. Everywhere they went were signs of chaos, the floating resort, nearly pristine only a few hours ago, was now littered with rubbish, benches and trashcans overturned as people fled for their lives.

Their path took them near a building that had been hit badly, a whole wall blown out and smoke rising from the ruined upper floors. But Cooper led the group inside, treading over the rubble to find a man in a grime covered and blood soaked security uniform, hand pressed to the ugly gash on his forehead. "Who… who are you?" he asked, looking up at the group.

"We're here to help," replied Mary Jane, stepping forwards and offering a reassuring smile, "Listen, you need to open the armory, get your guys armed and ready for a fight."

But the guard wasn't convinced, "Fight?" he rasped with a shake of his bleeding head, "A fight with who? We need to get out of here…."

Matthew stepped up, easing MJ aside, and put a hand on the man's shoulder, "We need that armory open, and you just got elected to do it. You get me?"

"But… but these guys… they'll," stammered the guard.
"Listen, I need you take a deep breath and find your balls, and when you find them, do your job," intoned Matthew, giving the man a gentle push towards the door. The guard slowly pulled himself together, fumbling with the keys on his belt loop for a second before getting it in the lock and twisting it, putting his hand on the biometric scanner to allow him to open the door to the vault. "Gear up, take what you want."

Peter watched as Matt and Felicia helped themselves to some of the weapons in the room, each with their own gun and its associated ammunition while the Webhead was drawn towards a different locker, easily pulling the cabinet open, the broken remains of the lock clattering across the floor. Inside was a set of odd gadgets, a flat plate with a grip on the bottom, four circular slots in it. Sliding his fingers through the slots, Spidey felt the tingle of electric current as bolts arced between the electrodes on the plate. "Let's get moving, clock's tickin'," reminded Cooper.

Peter grimaced under his mask at the carnage and chaos around him, but fired a webline to pull himself above it and swing through the shopping mall, the vanguard of their little group, the other sprinting to get to the landing pad. The confined space kept him from swinging too quickly, but he went without fear, because his sixth sense was the only thing that was quiet. Spider-Man arrived at a thick fire door, and could hear the furious pounding on it from the opposite side, along with the distant report of gunshots.

Digging his feet in, Spider-Man wrapped his hands around the hydraulic blast doors and pulled with all his might, the door budging in spite of the sparking control panel and creaking in protest with every inch it moved. Once it was open, civilians began pouring out, nearly trampling each other as they scrambled for safety while Spider-Man pulled on the door, coaxing it ever more open. When the last of the civilian mob trickled out, the four Americans rushed forwards, when more gunfire broke out. "MJ," said Peter, whipping around to look at the redhead.

The reporter seemed to read his mind, "I'll get people to safety," she said before peeling away from the group. "You all get going!"

They didn't get much farther before they reached a fork in the path as it turned into the mall, shops lining the path, overturned kiosks the middle of it. "I'll go right!" said the Webslinger.

"We got the left," replied Felicia, crouching down to look at the toppled and cracked screen that displayed a map of the mall, emergency exit paths marked in red. "Looks like both meet at the helipads where our man will be. See you on the other side, Spider."

"Good hunting, buddy," added the Marauder before the couple shouldered their weapons and went down the other corridor.

Now on his own, Spider-Man fired a webline at a shop on each side and pulled them taut, lifting his feet to let the silk propel him forward. Firing a line up at the top of the shops, swinging low over a plant arrangement and flipping off the end, the Webhead sped through the deserted mall with superhuman swiftness. He could hear the distant echoes of a gun battle and pushed himself harder, his face the picture of determination under his featureless mask.

Coming around a bend, Spider-Man launched himself off an awning strut and went flying into a sprawling yard just as he heard the sound of approaching helicopters. But before he could search the skies for the source of the distinct sound, his sixth sense buzzed violently, causing him to snap a webline off to one side and yank himself laterally to dodge the stream of automatic gunfire that zipped past his head.

Flipping around and firing a web to resume his swing forwards, the Wallcrawler saw the head of short red hair and couldn't muster up a quip as he dove into the group of gunmen. Picking one out, Spider-Man flipped around and slammed into his picked foe feet first, driving him to the ground where he was then blasted with webbing to pin him to the concrete. Feeling his sixth sense buzz, the Webslinger rolled away, coming up with his fist swinging in a powerful uppercut that sent the gunman flailing into the air, his weapon flying before Spider-Man leapt up, throwing a pair of punches before he felt his Spidey Sense thrummed in warning.

Firing a webline, the Webhead yanked himself to the tumbling goon right as more gunfire cut through the air behind him as he wrapped himself around the henchman and kicked himself off. While the Hydra gunman slammed into the ground, the Wallcrawler backflipped around and loosed a webline, coming down like a pendulum with his legs extended, his feet driving the man off his feet and sending him flying back into a storefront, shattering the glass while Spider-Man flipped off his line. When he landed, he was facing the last two gunmen, eye lenses narrowing as he saw the leader drag his hostage up the stairs to the helipad.

Seeing the last two gunmen raise their weapons, the Webslinger's hands flicked up as he loosed a pair of weblines, the strands of synthetic silk latching onto their guns before he yanked them out of their hands and swung the gun around, bringing them back down on their heads with enough force that both men fell to the ground and lay still.

Tossing the guns aside, Spider-Man started forwards when he felt his sixth sense start to buzz and he reacted instantly, diving down behind a concrete planter right as a helicopter came into view and emanated a deafening sound, like a buzzsaw ripping through sheet metal as a solid stream of red tracers cut through the air, chipping and tearing pieces out of concrete, shredding the plants as it swept across the field. Taking a daring peek out from his shelter, Spider-Man saw a second helicopter swoop in to land, the last mercenary Pilot throwing his hostage on board before following.

Throwing caution to the wind, Spider-Man saw the stream of bullets trail away and made a move, firing a webline to swing up, but the sudden alarm from his danger sense had him reversing course into a shop, getting out of the open right before the helicopter gunner unleashed a torrent of lead through the glass and wrecked what merchandise he had an angle on. Peter could hear the sounds of the helicopters pick up right as the gunfire died down, and he dashed out of the store to see the two choppers ascend, and fired two weblines at the retreating helicopter, but it was a futile effort, the lines falling short as he watched the Hydra craft flee, along with their target.

Cooper's Logbook: Taran Tactical Sand Viper

What started life as a 9mm 2011 pistol evolved into the greatest competition pistol on the planet thanks to being fine-tuned and fettled by the mad wizards at TTI, and they truly did leave no aspect of the gun untouched.

A 21 round capacity magazine, built in compensator for virtually zero muzzle flip, fiber optic front sight, ambidexterous safeties. Flared magwell for faster reloads, 2 pound extreme trigger, extended slide and mag releases, stainless steel guide rods, and cut for a Trijicon SRO optic. This snake has ferocious fucking fangs.

Price: $8,000.

Worth every penny.

Closing Notes: I had a lot of fun with this, lots of references, so let's see how well y'all did spotting them. Obviously, overall we have the mission 'Karma' from BO2 mixed in with a bit from Cyberpunk 2077: Phantom Liberty, including Aurore replacing Chloe Lynch. Cooper has the pistol from John Wick 4, and quotes Paul Rhodes from The Division. I also did a bit of Mass Effect 3 Citadel with MJ distracting the card dealer.

Hope you all enjoyed and if you have something to say, feel free to leave a review, I'll be back in a couple weeks with the next chapter.

Stay Frosty, Misfit Delta out.