Chapter 5: Wee Widow Web Wrangling
"Well, we're outmatched," Black Widow remarks in her coffee.
"I don't totally disagree," replies Captain America.
"Possibly, we wind-up in body casts if we just charge in there," notes Natasha while Romanova's narrowed eye reflects in Brazilian bean brew.
"I don't totally disagree," says Sam Wilson.
"We retreat wisely. Absorbing Man alone could drub us," admits the assassin Avenger, "but we should only reassess our raid, not cancel it."
"Redwing ensures us at least a successful reconnaissance mission," assures the American Avenger, "The wise raptor reconnoiters the motel right now and telepathically shares the feed." Cap taps his temple. The former Falcon and the falcon share an extrasensory link. Sam sees what Redwing sees.
Black Widow blinks severally. She reviews the duo's recent retreat, "I wish that we could have simply go gotten Trapster for terrorizing my gal pal Glorianna. At oh-nine-hundred, we were ready to do so. A spy worth her salt, I had tracked him to the Hideaway Inn. However, when we rushed the front door, two infamous Avengers adversaries appeared in the window: Absorbing Man and Titania."
"Fortunately, I was eagle-eyed enough to spot them," remarks the former Falcon, "Fortunately, some scrubs were stupid enough to have the shades open on a secret meeting."
Widow smirks. She continues, "Yeah, we are in full costume, so we are likewise lucky that the three super-thugs did not espy us advancing. Being both quick, we cut-off our attack in an instant, and we doubled-back to this Roxxon gas station."
"Where I was glad to get you folks some coffee," interjects the elderly cashier, "Some good joe can jog the ol' thinking cap. Ya'eh!" "Ya'eh" is Upper Midwest English for "jawohl".
"And, thank you for the black brew," Cap smiles, "Of course, please no streaming our strategy session on social media."
The geezer grins, "I wouldn't think of public posting. Granny's webcam girl gig is behind her." She guffaws greatly. Then, she giggles like a witch's grimalkin.
Imagining a "Gram's gams" site, Natasha licks java grounds from her lips. She laughs a little. The cashier cackles like a crazed crone conjuring Cain.
Leerily, Cap America comments, "Let's get back to business, Black Widow. What is our current mission? Do we stick to our initial plan and take Trapster for questioning presently? Perhaps, we good guys, by God's grace, can somehow swat Skeeter and Crusher as heroes perpetually do. Or, do we trail Trapster temporarily until plucking Paste-Pot Pete when more possible?"
The past KGB coquette plots out, "The Great Lakes Avengers are but low degrees longitude from our present locale. We could call them as auxiliary. Their Doorman can deliver them over interstate distance directly."
Wilson wags his chin, "Nah, that's an awful suggestion. The GLA would get their asses handed to them even worse than we could—including Big Bertha."
Superheroine shrugs, "I would suggest Alpha Flight members from bordering Ontario or Manitoba. But, I don't want to get any of them killed."
"Quite," America understands.
Agent Romanoff itches her head, "I know Iron Man from way back. How fast do you figure that he could get here?"
"Fast," affirms the other Avenger, "although a very busy man needs to be available."
"Argh," utters Black Widow softly, "I almost brought Invisible Woman instead of you to battle her old FF foe. She was ephemerally an Avenger after Inferno [see Avengers #299-303]."
Captain America is a crumb offended. But, he cannot deny one thing, "Well, Crusher Creel can't catch and absorb Sue's constructs the same way he could my Vibranium shield if clasped."
The scenario is a concern; Natasha concurs with a nod.
Then, Nat cerebrates nine seconds, but not ten. Trenchantly, the erstwhile Avengers head announces, "Okay! I have a plan! Avengers assemble, I guess."
Overland a piece, Zemo's pair and Trapster prepare to part ways—perhaps. Titania ponders the trio's next move after poring over the package that Petruski purloined. Peculiarly, Absorbing Man and Titania are not simply abducting, interrogating, and possibly punishing Pete—as was their original professional purpose. Rather, the papers sent Prof. O'Breen have perplexed the prominent perpetrators.
Pete and Carl chat over cheap coffee, complimentary in the inn's units. They almost trekked over to a nearby Roxxon, but they thought it too much trouble. They watch the falcon watching them outside and rap about the road team visiting Minneapolis this weekend. It should be a good game.
Gazing into space, Skeeter considers gridiron contests not. Rather, she pensively ponders the papers' repugnant contents.
On one hand, the problematic report—of long-past behavior—is not MacPherran's problem. Men have been pigs since proto-humans first pranced about prehistory, and perverts will persist long after present people permutate into supposedly better beasts. This planet will never be Paradise, and women will always need persevere through Purgatory and the patriarchy (prison schooling has proffered Skeeter some dandy diction). Were Providence kind, all Petes would know their place, and ladies would lead the world. But, the divine design and the world's plot apparently places women with pileous palookas who perpetually push humanity toward Pandemonium. The globe, and guardian Gaea with it, is seemingly always going to Hell because the boars in charge charge it there.
Maybe, "members of the fair sex" must not be as virginal as Mary MacPherran once was. Maybe, women must decide—as she did—to become monstrous to fight monsters. A "mere" maid can manage mankind if she is terrible as a titan. Perhaps, she is the harridan who interminably tirades until all acquiesce and recognize the power of her voice. Perhaps, she simply silences and censors all speech unsupportive (or deconstructive) of her sex. Perhaps, she becomes a supervillain—by necessity—who literally can subdue and destroy others. Like many bitter people, both fearful and furious, Mary MacPherran has found something: force works. Heart and reason don't. Perhaps, all women need to understand this, and, if they don't, their feeble fortunes are their own faults.
Furthermore, let it be understood that Titania is no hero. She is a supervillainess with superhuman abilities that stave off certain circumstances. Thus, she sees sexual violence, such as detailed in the file, as something unlikely to happen to her. She is no hero who sees great power coming with great responsibility. Such a person would be routinely her better. Rather, despite great gifts, Skeeter is the everyday small sort ignoring others' issues, for they do not affect her.
Also, Titania is a sadist. So, she kind of gets a kick out of canvassing a silly slut's unfortunate misadventure.
But, on the other hand, any woman, even a Master of Evil, experiences some empathetic anger upon encountering the same old wrong.
And, Titania wants to hit and hurt someone as Titania always wants to hurt someone, for her appetite for violence and vengeance is still insatiable—even after all her rampages and rows. Does slighted Skeeter MacPherran always need everyone everywhere to pay? Sure. But, not because an innocent "girl" got screwed. But rather, because Mary was once an innocent in an unfair world, and that rueful wench will never get enough revenge should she live to see Revelation Day. Her wrath is a weapon aimed without reserve or end at totally guilty humanity. Titania's interminable tantrum just sometimes targets the culpable, coincidentally.
Also, Titania is curious what Wizard has to say about affairs. Simple Skeeter is streetwise enough to sleuth. Why did the Frightful Four's dean dispatch Trapster to fetch this file? Why is it so important? Why help keep this prospective scandal secret? How is Wizard involved in the reported incident? She wants to know her frequent Frightful Four employer thoroughly. And, like any bad guy, she wants the goods to blackmail him if ever need be.
Titania audibly tsk-tsks, tilts her chair abruptly back, and stands tall. Trapster and Absorbing Man notice. She talks, "I agree, Pete. Something shifty—and mayhap s*****-has happened. Let's go find Wizard and ask him a few things."
"Okay, youse guys stay hidden here," declares Carl, "I'll get the Creel cruiser, and we can wheel for Wizard's den then."
"Sweetie, you shouldn't sprint to the SUV," states Skeeter, "For starters, you are the one of us three 'wanted men' who doesn't wear a mask. You are the most recognizable of us all. For another thing, there is safety in numbers. We should go as a fearsome three." A-mite-moronic Mary may want to mind that masks make one more conspicuous in small-town Minnesota, not less.
"Babe, I have been feared, baddest man in the whole damn town, since before Beyonder built Battleworld [see Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars #1], Beast bore blue fur [see Amazing Adventures v.2 #11], or Baron Zemo's Black Knight bit the dust [see Tales of Suspense #73]," comments Carl, "I can combat the assembled Avengers or clobber the Thing. Why would we need numbers? Just keep Pete company and catch some premium cable, included with room, or something."
Splenetic Skeeter sighs some breath and shakes her head. "Boo, do you see that f****** bird out there?" a thumb indicates outside the window, "It looks like Redwing, the Pet Avenger. Ergo, Falcon could be in the area, and he could have smartly brought bigger Avengers with him. If so, well, we're outmatched!" A tick out-of-touch, Titania may want to treat former Falcon as current Captain America.
"Oh please!" Paste-Pot pertly pipes in.
He sarcastically suggests, "Undoubtedly, Falcon fetched one-time Avenger Sue Richards on his way here, and the Invisible Woman is standing beside the g*****, f******, s*****, b**** bird. You're paranoid, b****!"
Disparaged Titania resists planting a powerful fist in impudent face. Instead, sans outward temper, she pronounces, "Maybe so, but we flee as three for the SUV. Safety in numbers. And, leave your wee rental car be. This is backcountry."
The large lady leads the lads out and opens the door to the mid-morning. Like a marshal, she moves out and motions her men to follow. Trapster takes her six, and Absorbing Man trails in-step. Carl cracks a smile, for he has always admired strong women—who can keep up with him.
Suddenly, a swiftly spinning shield cracks Titania across the teeth and arcs back to its owner. Captain America catches the circle and uplifts the spectacular red, white, and blue symbol like a stop sign before blackguards.
"Good morning, Masters of Evil, you aren't going anywhere until the Avengers talk to Trapster about some recent local trouble," says Cap.
Skeeter chuckles and stares sinisterly. She cracks her knuckles in a scary manner and imagines splattering a haughty superhero so stupid as to challenge She-Hulk's frequent sparring partner. Spitting contemptuously, Titania considers either stiffly stomping the inn's asphalt or headlong charging Cap like the proverbial cow in a china shop. Burgundy boots set. But, companion Carl intercedes.
"Cupcake," he calls her a cute name, "Keep Pete moving. I'll mangle Miss America here for ya." Absorbing Man's fingertip taps Trapster's rental car, and, by bumping the bumper, his body becomes chromium steel.
Sam snickers subtly (so that Creed shan't notice). The Sentinel of Liberty is just the decoy while Black Widow scales the one-story inn and sneaks-up on surly Skeeter. Initially, Natasha planned to ambush Absorbing Man as Sam struck Titania, but the assignments are now switched. Sam Wilson does not mind the change of plans, for any super-soldier, whether Steve Roges or not, improvises expertly and enthusiastically. He ain't afraid of cuss Crusher.
Besides, a third Avenger should be here in a blink. Teammate Dr. Strange or Wiccan would have been welcome to teleport here as reinforcement. But, when phoned, Strange oddly had given Avengers a Wong number, and Wiccan simply was not home.
Crack! Creel's karate chop creases the car door, "Hey, counterfeit Cap. Come at me!"
"Counterfeit Cap?" Sam sounds indignant, "Would you call U.S. Agent that crap?"
"Sure, he sucks too," Carl claims, "Have you ever met the original Captain America? He ain't got no super strength or flying power. He's just crafty and courageous as hell, and he's crazy enough to fight me. I'll always admire him, Hawkeye, Daredevil, and dudes like that—while I'm trying to kill 'em. They are mere men with the iron mettle to meddle with a gold-medal mirrored metal man like me."
A stink-eye admonishes the shocking absorber, "Huh. That's a hokey heap of homophones, and I ken that you me'tally misspelt 'metal' three times."
"Well, who the f*** are you, Jefferson Pierce?" replies Carl Creel.
"No. And, I don't know who that is," Sam Wilson states, "By the way, you do realize that I likewise largely lack powers? So, I am likewise Captain America and his kind."
"Well, excuse my density," Creel clangs his chrome dome, "Now, let's fight, featherbrain!"
Fearsome ferrous foe charges forward. Former Falcon flies at him and flips aside at the last second. Outflanked, Absorbing Man stumbles, tumbles, and falls to filthy asphalt.
Away from Captain and Crusher, Titania and Trapster creep for the countryside where their carriage awaits. Calmly, concealed Black Widow watches quarry enter her web. Her Norway spruce perch provides Natasha's suit saps while her sight surveys two saps sneaking past. From on high, the superheroine radios the Avengers speedster racing to her location. Quicksilver should clip across Cass County within a quarter-minute, coming from coastal Connecticut. Once here, he will pluck Paste-Pot from Pete's powerhouse protector. Then, Natasha need only engage and delay Titania while Quicksilver gets away. Then, Sam—having slipped a Creel—will swoop in and extract an outmatched Avenger from a sticky situation. Then, the three Mightiest can meet-up and question captured Trapster.
Black Widow will not worry herself about monstrous Titania mayhap wrecking her and ripping her in half. She refuses to. Since time immemorial, spies excel at impossible assignments, and the Avengers vet will always be essentially a spy. Ergo, ambushing an invincible adversary actually arouses Romanoff and awakens her sense of adventure. Blithely, the intrepid agent swan dives from the spruce and readies her Widow's bite to startle a strawberry blonde behemoth. A shot in the eye should do.
Zap! Zip! Widow assaults Titania's optic orb. Simultaneously, a sage green streak snatches Trapster away.
Zoom! Zing! Quicksilver clefts the crisp zephyr coursing over country. Concurrently, cable departs Widow's gauntlet and grabs a bough above. Briskly retracting, the wire whisks Widow upward before bad guy reacts.
From the pine zenith, the heroine hears the villainess wildly wail and beholds her rub her hurting eye. The other azure eye angrily espies the spy silhouetted on cyan sky.
"C'mere!" calls the towering gal with a short temper. Titania's swipe shatters the tree's trunk totally.
A brave femme fatale falls toward a cocked cannon-fist that could cream her. But, despite the danger, reckless Romanoff drops deliberately for disaster. Like a lady Daredevil, she is a dame without fear. When Titania throws the punch, Widow perfectly pivots in mid-air, barrel rolls, embraces upraised arm, swing-slings herself circularly, and pops a piqued palooka in the prat. Practically, the kick cannot crack the hard coccyx. But, Natasha need only distract Titania long enough for Quicksilver and Cap to do their things.
A mile afar, Pietro has—alas—failed, for Peter—shrewdly—has a failsafe in his suit. Trapster's tunic has a booby-trap triggered by any rough bodily treatment. He set the device before when two terrific thugs threatened to tear him atwain. Thus, when Whizzer's cognate nabbed him and zestfully zig-zagged overland, the protective appliance activated and instantly excreted an ample envelope of viscous adhesive. Maximoff went from mega-mph to zero in a seeming zeptosecond and skidded spectacularly over a six-acre zone leaving an elongated sheet of goo from a farm's treeline to Tenmile Lake.
The deceleration slowed Trapster safely—although he still skipped across Tenmile's shallows. Then, he sank into silty, cold soup.
From the sheet of "shellac", Pietro's head pokes such that he can breathe (and seethe). Zealous Quicksilver won't die like Joey Z. His incredible impetus at least did that favor for him. Otherwise, thin, tough, tacky tar traps Quicksilver to the terrain like a tarp of tamped taffy. Amazing extremities can thrash and tear all that they want. The speedster is still stuck in epoxy-esque paste. Extraordinary arms can attempt digging down out of the unctuous overlay; the grody glop yet adheres to Maximoff's back if not anterior.
Gleefully, goon Petruski gibes the grumpy guy, "Gadzooks! You thought you got me, but you are not the genius that I am. Have a good time getting free."
The Frightful foe sloshes ashore and kicks some lake slop in Quicksilver's face on the way out of the water. Trapster trots off. To his surprise, Titania bounds toward him along the plain of paste's border. She is neither incapacitated nor inconvenienced by Avengers. Although, an aerial Captain America and his falcon pursues in the background.
A moment before, Black Widow and Titania brawl between the timber near the inn. Nimble Natasha dances like a wood nymph and decks like a Marvel Knight. Hopping, her heel nails Skeeter in the nose. And, dropping, her leg swipe hammers the heavy in the knee. But, neither attacks nudges MacPherran much, and pitched pinecones and brush don't nettle her either. Nat's knocks are nearly for naught. The gnarly ogress advances, ire etched upon her visage.
But then, the belligerent brute abruptly halts.
Titania announces, "You know, Widow, you can't hurt me. You are no more than a gnat annoying my nose. And, the national knucklehead with you can't hurt me none neither. Neutralizing you ain't unnecessary. Next time, bring your boyfriend Iron Man or your girl She-Hulk. Now, go climb a tree 'cause you're a nut." The goliath gal pivots toward where Trapster was taken.
"Iron Man and I have not dated for years," Natasha natters, "if it matters."
"Well, it f****** don't, dear," burgundy boots bound over Northwoods ground.
The champion (of L.A. and elsewhere) considers casting cable around an escaping ankle—possibly to trip a titan. However, the heavy likely has too much heft in her stride. Perhaps, the assassin Avenger should have whipped an explosive disk into the ogress' yap just now while she spoke—were such a shot feasible.
"Hey!" hears the heroine over her shoulder. She swivels to see aloft Captain America approaching for the extraction. Oddly, his index points adamantly at the earth just ahead of him. Redwing raises some alarm too, right alongside Sam. Scoping the landscape, Romanoff descries a massive earthen mound moving deliberately.
At once, Absorbing Man arises in a large, loamy wave unavoidable for even an agent of arachnid agility. Sinister face smiling upon it, the soil wall slams Widow supine and sinks her at least six feet subterranean through loose dirt. The forest floor flies up, and compost claps down to encase Natasha. Seemingly, Absorbing Man entombs Avengers adversary underground.
Emulating Sandman, Crusher Creel erects his upper half high on a hill of shifty sediment. He shoots dual streams of dirt at Captain America divebombing him. Wilson and 'Wing dodge deftly, but they also sharply abortively ascend to avoid excoriation. Thus, Black Widow remains buried alive. Like an ace airman, the Captain does a split-s and swoops at Absorbing Man again. Summoning fighting spirit, Sam sets his shield like the Silver Squire following the Phantom Eagle into enemy earth, except revenant Redwing (see All-New Captain America #6) leads his way. Amused Creel almost salivates seeing the precious Vibranium approaching.
"Come to Papa!" pronounces Creel. He pauses the earthen ack-ack pelting shield and superhero.
Like a cannonball, Cap crashes through colossal Carl's chest, causing a huge hole. Hemorrhaging humus, the hollowed man hollers—in holly pugnacity. The preternatural palooka plucks the plants on either side of him, and his pliable paws permutate into long, floral phalanges. Furiously, the fiend throws the fantastic fingers the 5.5 meters to his foe. Like fetters, writhing weeds wrap red, white, and blue limbs. Leafy tendrils flick threateningly at the famous aegis. Wide-eyed Absorbing Man must touch America's totem!
Cantankerously, Cap snaps his arms free with unexpected umph. A Star-Spangled Avenger's upper body ain't lacking whether Walker, Rogers, or Wilson. For further illustration, Wilson immediately whips his buckler at bark above Absorbing Man's head. A bulky bough breaks and bonks bothersome bad guy on the noggin (to little effect). Cap's weapon returns to him, and he hefts it to cleave leg ligatures as his Pet Avenger pecks and claws in collaboration. He grumbles about "Groot wannabe" and "pseudo-Plantman".
Close by, Crusher consolidates his remaining anatomy to close the aperture. The prior giant is now a human-sized figure atop a small hill. Crowing challenge, Crusher Creel is king of the hill.
Suddenly, underground explosions cast Carl from his crest and make him serf of the sky instead. From beneath his boots, Black Widow blasts her way free with her demolition disks. Of course, the Cossack is also showing her consistent crazy courage by creating such concussion in her close quarters.
Cap considers checking on the chippy champion who may be wounded. However, Sam soars after Titania instead, for he figures that Black Widow will be okay. After all, Natasha has survived several shootings, a poisoning by the Hand (see Daredevil #188), a broken neck by Captain America-61311 (see Secret Empire #7), existential obliteration by the Beyonders (see Secret Wars #1), and, lately, a premature burial. Absorbing Man may be the one with the ass that's grass.
At Tenmile Lake, Trapster trots toward Titania, and Titania tilts toward him. Behind her, up in the sky, truth, justice, and the American way trails. Trying a tested tactic, Cap tosses his discus at the dashing Amazon. A precision strike should place an unbreakable escutcheon betwixt her strides. The intercrural invader should trip her.
However, the shield must travel a distance; thus, Trapster sees it coming "a mile away" (actually from three hundred feet). He meets Cap's surprise attack with one of his own. Like Spider-Man, Frightful Foe frequent foe, Paste-Pot projects a web-line from his wrist and snatches the sailing shield just as it interlopes sprinting Skeeter's legs. Trapster tugs the iconic object to his sticky little paw.
Speaking up, Trapster teases overhead America, "Do you want this?" He holds the steel steal high.
The Sentinel of Liberty darts madly low and levels a mere meter above earth. He charges exposed shins below the shield. The hardy hit hurls the interceptor head over heels to the hard turf, and the tauntmaker fumbles the patriotic prized possession. Readily, Redwing retrieves the rolling circle and sends it to Cap circling around for another sortie. He catches it and recommits to target Titania. He hurtles at her.
Titania keeps it simple. Her Herculean left hook centrally strikes the shield (in the star) so hard as to rap warrior Wilson right across the risen sun. In several hours, the World Series continues this October date, but, for now, home run fans have Captain America emulating America's game. Going a mile, the "ball" gets hit all the way back to the Hideaway Inn.
In nearby Birch Lake, aqueous Absorbing Man wrestles Black Widow in the inn's beach waters. His fluid form latches her limbs and lobs the Lady Liberator over lily pads and eelgrass. The acrobatic Avenger lithely lands on a large floating log. She leaps back to battle. Lout Carl lunges through the lettuce.
Natasha lands and lopes sloppily forward. They lock, and she headbutts liquid brow. He biffs her in the breadbasket and bodyslams her. Romanoff rebounds upright and brandishes a bauble bomb. It should blow apart Absorbing Man. Creel blasts bodily fluid like a water cannon and lambastes Black Widow aback a berth.
Beneath Birch Lake's surface, the explosive booms and straightway stirs the lakebed. Through the brown broth, Black Widow beelines like a beaver until breaching like a baleen behind bruiser Creel. She boards his back and elbows his bubblehead hard but harms not his bereft brain (because it's presently bilge). The fluid freak bisects, and the fair fighter falls face-first a three-fourths fathom.
Forthwith, frenetic Absorbing Man assails. Hydro-paws plunge and hook heroine's hips. Then, bad guy wrathfully bobs Black Widow like a buoyant witch, bestially bouncing her from boggy bottom to open air. The Bolshevik Avenger does her best to bear the beating and not get her bikini briefs in a bundle. Bravely, Black Widow abides until the barbarous Bronxite bully pins an abranchial Avenger (unlike Marrina) underwater in bluegills' abode. A smart warrior, Romanoff sussed that he would. She reaches into her belt.
What Natasha wouldn't give for a phial of liquid nitrogen right now! But, the inveterate SHIELD agent has only a firearm's compressed air cartridge instead; it goes to the needle gun next to her ham. With bated breath, Black Widow implants the pistol part into pervious freshwater flesh and busts the bit's valve. The embedded bulb blasts unbridled bubbles through bilious villain.
Burbling bubbles bodily besiege an acutely-effervescent Absorbing Man. And, his being briefly boils, bursts, and breaks apart from breeches to bowels to breast. Baffled Creel bellows boisterously as burping blebs corporeally blight him to "bleep". One errant bitty ball brakes at Crusher's belly and abruptly balloons, bulging Carl badly, until he blows-out in blobs and beads across blazes and beyond.
Beneath Birch Lake, Black Widow bucks up. She surfaces, and she butterfly strokes for the beach shallows. Bleary eyes blink away debility fast, for badass Nat has some brass to her. Also, Absorbing Man always bounces back from obliteration like Mr. Bill. Bank on it, true believers. Thus, baldy could again beset beauty at any time.
Suddenly, a barreling blob-boor brazenly broadsides bold belle. Dogged as a bowfin, Black Widow bears the brusque bump. Rebuilt Absorbing Man rises blocking escape. He buds octo-limbs to bat aside any retaliatory blows.
But, Black Widow wields wiles instead of wild swings, to Crusher's surprise. Batting baby blues, Natasha beams a broad, bright smile, and she bares some beckoning bust. The black widow would beguile the red-blooded rogue. She would bait him into becoming beef and bone again so as to engage her and brush her bonny being. They can embrace. Then, ruthless Romanoff can briskly broach a concealed bilbo into his back abutting the heart.
But, to Black Widow's surprise, Absorbing Man just bristles. By his perspective, Crusher is Skeeter's bound boyfriend, and his heart belongs to her. The big gal is the Barbie to Creel's Ken and the Bonnie to Carl's Clyde. Nobody can bedevil him from his bride.
"Simone de Beauvoir would not approve," Absorbing Man admonishes Black Widow, titillating temptress.
Carl "Crusher" Creel collapses into the roiled waters and simply disappears—until emerging on the lake's far shoreline. The rogue runs away.
And, Black Widow takes a beleaguered breath. Wisely, Widow resolves to let Carl, Skeeter, and Pete go for now, although noble Natasha will never have enough of engaging evil-doers. Resiliently, Black Widow wobbles ashore, braces her muscles, and walks tall toward Captain America, prone on the parking lot.
In his mind, Sam sees what Redwing sees, and Redwing, over yon, sees Titania toss Trapster over her shoulder, squat, and spring across the skyscape à la She-Hulk. On the air, Absorbing Man, made of air, follows like an Evil Dead wind.
Wilson winces with rancor. He rises by a crisp kip-up. Captain America clears his craw and expectorates. Superheroes and national symbols shouldn't spit, but the Sentinel of Liberty is direly disgusted. The bad guys bested three Avengers, and the bad guys got away.
Suddenly, a sedan speeds into the Hideaway Inn lot and screeches to a stop. Electrified epee at the ready, Baron Zemo jumps out. Cap America experiences a certain jaunty joy; he has "jacked-up" this jerk often, unlike Titania or Absorbing Man. Falcon and Redwing rush in. Wroth Russian Black Widow joins them. Freed Quicksilver comes running as well.