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

As much as I hate to admit it, my Destiny addiction is coming back with the release of the new dungeon. Now if only Bungie would fix the bugged drop rate for the new exotic. And Icebreaker, I still need Icebreaker.

This chapter is a bit of a breather from the last couple, more action packed, installments to the story. It does take some heavy inspiration from a certain movie, which is why I went with a song from that film's soundtrack as the chapter title.

Authority Without Asking

Chapter 7: A Job to Do

Time to get paid today
Another face I file away
Turned the corner long ago
Never looked back, never slowed
Under the still of night
Standing in shifting light
I am not one you see
And all the days that will ever be
Not for pleasure, not for show
Burning bridges, one to go...
Under the still of night
Waiting in shifting light
I see You, just another job to do

Suppressing a frown, Silver Sablinova looked over the display, taking in the full after action report. The carnage tally had been immense, nearly 500 casualties, including 120 dead in the most brazen act of terror to take place on the eastern side of the Atlantic since the firebombing of a Parisian church in 2015. Already, a group had taken responsibility, some faction of radical communists wishing to punish the bourgeoise aboard the floating resort. Even as she reread the words on the page, the Symkarian regent shook her head. "This is a front, surely," she said.

The intelligence officer giving the report, nodded, "That is our assessment as well, ma'am. A similar sentiment to the Americans, British, and Israelis." That last name caused one of Sablinova's silver eyebrows to rise slightly, "With the attack so close to the Suez, Mossad took an interest. Most of the legwork came from their agents."

Yet with the worlds intelligence agencies in agreement, the news reports ran with the story as it was presented, and the names of the attacks true perpetrators never once crossed the airwaves. Nor, thankfully, did any mention of the four people there at her direction, and it was only because of them that Hydra's true mission was known, even if it had succeeded despite their efforts. Still, she had taken a small amount of satisfaction in seeing the usually unflappable and all knowing Nick Fury being taken aback when she divulged that Hydra's objective had been Cassel. Her abduction has spurred the entire intelligence apparatus of NATO into action. BND, MI6, CIA, and more had all poured over their resources to locate where Hydra had hidden Aurore Cassel, but they now had an answer.

"Alexandira?" questioned the Mercenary.

"They didn't go there directly, but we're confident that is where they are at present," replied the officer. Sable remained quiet, until he elaborated. "We shared our lists of Hydra affiliated companies and American SIGINT picked up increased traffic from one of them, Echidna Capital Management, registered in Switzerland. It's encrypted, and even them most of that is given in code, so there are few specifics to report, but it coincides with that company pouring a lot of money in Alexandria."

"Do we know the source of this capital?" inquired Silver, but got a not unexpected shake of the head in reply. Hydra had not lasted so long by being sloppy about anything that could be traced back to them. "What has the money been spent on?"

The answer to her question was what she expected. "Raw materials. But we have not been able to determine where they are going."

That was less than ideal, but after nearly 72 hours, any concrete intelligence was welcome. "Is there anything else?"

"One additional item, that is an event sponsored by Echidna on Friday night, black tie social gathering, guest list includes local officials and businessmen, as well as Echidna's Regional Manager, one Stanley Winston."

Sable looked up at him, "Get four tickets, pass them along to the Major and his group. Give them whatever they need. Winston will be the lead Hydra operative for the region, he will know where Cassel is being held. We cannot wait for our allies to dither; direct action is necessary. Dismissed."

The man saluted smartly and turned on his heel, departing Sablinova's office and leaving the woman alone with a nagging thought. Trying to put it down failed, and not being one to ignore her instincts, Silvija picked up the phone and punched in a number that she had long since memorized. After hearing two rings in her ear, there was a click before a woman with a slight Danish accent answered, "7th Armored Cavalry Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel Freja Højbjerg speaking."

Højbjerg was a veteran of the Symkarian Civil War, like the unit she now commanded. What had previously been the 7th Armored Assault Battalion had been reformed into the 'light' armored formation of Sable International, able to operate independently or alongside the 'heavy' 1st Guards Armored Brigade. While the Marauder no longer commanded the unit still known as 'Ghost Division,' his successor followed his example of unorthodox tactics and emphasis on aggression that earned it that moniker. "Lieutenant Colonel, this is Sablinova. Who is your alert company?"

"B company Scouts and D Company Tanks are on 48 hour alert," was the instant reply.

"Make it twelve," commanded Sablinova swiftly, "Do the same with your headquarters and aerial companies. Recall the rest of the 7th and put them on 48 hour stand by."

"Right away, ma'am. What should be ready for?" asked the Sable International officer.

"The desert, beyond that, I can say little," admitted Silver, "But expect heavy enemy opposition."

"Understood. Call us when you need us, the 7th will be ready. Højbjerg out," returned the Battalion Commander before the line went dead.

Confident in the abilities of her subordinates, Sable tapped the receiver on her desk before putting it back to her ear and dialing another number. "Mr. Batz," she said as soon as it was answered, "The Egyptian I met the other night, who was he?"

Her Foreign Affairs Strategist, as always, had the game of diplomacy between nations grasped more firmly than Sablinova did. "The Minister Delegate of Foreign Affairs, his deputy, in other words," replied the German curtly.

"Excellent. Come to my office immediately, bring what information you have on him," she ordered before her voice hardened, "I have to make a request of the Minister Delegate, one that I wish to ensure is not refused."

"Uh, you think you might wanna slow down a little?" intoned Peter as the superhuman squirmed in the passenger seat.

MJ's answer was to grin as she pressed her right foot down, the 3.9 liter twin turbocharged V-8 howling in response, viscerally audible to the pair with the roof down on the Rosso Corsa Ferrari 488 Spider. "Why? I thought you'd be used to a little speed!" she called back, having to raise her voice over the wind whipping through her hair as the speedometer ticked up into the triple digits. The car handled like a dream, and Watson delighted in tearing across the open desert highway, their destination coming into view.

"Not this much speed," replied Peter, pressing himself into the leather upholstered bucket seat while MJ laughed gleefully. As fast as she was going, a sleek Volcano Blue shape pulled alongside the Prancing Horse, Cooper grinning at her from behind the wheel of the McLaren 720S Spider with Felicia in the passenger seat. The British Supercar emitted a turbocharged roar as it streaked off, pulling in front of the Ferrari and racing ahead. Peter gave her a wide eyed look, "You're not gonna…."

"Hang on Tiger," the redhead said with a smirk as she clicked the paddle on the left side of the wheel; the V8 behind her hollered back to life as she gave it more power and rocket off in pursuit. Cutting across the desert, the two supercars began to wind their way up the steps that lined the perimeter of the port city, Mary Jane slightly incensed at the fact that the McLaren's taillights were still in front of her as they finally arrived at their destination, a luxurious hotel with classical styling, secluded in the hills just off the beach and with a commanding view of the city itself. Brining the Italian thoroughbred to a halt amongst a whole host of equally expensive automobiles, Mary Jane's thumb pressed down on the red Stop/Start button on the steering wheel with a hint of reluctance, the engine falling silent. Getting out of the car, the redhead looked forlornly at the vehicle before gazing up at the ornately adorned hotel, "Quite the adventure our little working vacation has turned into."

Peter hummed an agreement as he fetched their bags from the small front trunk of the Ferrari. All they had were carry bags, with more luggage being shipped down by Sable during the day. "All this feels a bit… unnecessary? Like do we really need to stay at a four star hotel and arrive in a car that costs more than a year's rent…."

"Gotta play the part, Tiger," shrugged Watson, tossing the key to the valet before ascending the steps. Entering the hotel, she looked at the lavishly decorated lobby, it was intimidating and exhilarating in equal measure. "I could get used to this."

"We'll keep that in mind next time you two come out to see us," replied Felicia as the other couple arrived, "No work, just us, the beach, and a high class party."

"We can do without that last bit," commented Peter, and MJ saw Cooper nod in solidarity while she gave Pete a playful swat.

Felicia came right up alongside and threw an arm around the Editor's shoulders, "Don't worry Red, we can bask in the glamour while these two grouches grumble and enjoy how good we look when dressed to the nines."

"Shame we'll have to work at the party this time," mused Mary Jane, "But since that isn't for a few days, we have a chance to try those swimsuits we brought."

"Swimsuits?" asked Peter dumbly, and MJ's smile grew while she nodded at him. "Let's go the beach then."

"Yes," agreed Felicia, "Lets."

"Hey Coach, how's it going?" greeted Miles, Peter hearing a slight grunts of exertion that he knew all too well came from Webswinging. "Enjoying your vacation?"

Looking around at the beach, which was reasonably occupied due to the mild weather of the coastal city, with it being in the mid-sixties, even in December, Parker answered, "Yeah, it's going alright so far." Looking out towards the water, he tried to see any sign of Mary Jane, but couldn't pick her out. "Just wanted to check in with you. I see you've been doing your training, any problems?"

"Well, there were a few glitches, and the user interface could use some work, but other than that? Not really." Peter let out relieved sigh, happy that all the time and money he'd put into that project hadn't gone to waste. Maybe now that it mostly worked he could show it to Stark? See what the mogul would make of it. "Oh, and thanks for the gift, it is AWESOME!"

"You earned it," replied Parker, "Have to put it to use yet?"

"Nothing serious, just some patrols, a few minor crimes. I stopped my first high speed chase yesterday!" he exclaimed before his tone changed, "Think I need some more practice. I kinda… dropped the car when I was trying to stop it."

Peter winced, but made a mental note to figure out some way to practice that, since it happened more often than one might think. "We'll work on that when I get back," he promised, "What else?"

"I read MJ's front pager about Symkaria," answered Miles.

"Not while you were swinging, I hope," returned Peter, voice lowering before he realized how he sounded. "Sorry, scolding mentor mode. Down-shifting," he said before taking a breath, "What'd you think of the article?"

"The article was great, it was really neat to see the new tech and the way Sable's using it. But the pictures? Where'd they find this Peter Parker guy?" teased the teenager.

The Queens native took it in good humor, chuckling at the jab, "I'm sure MJ's asking herself that to this day. But, hey listen, I've had something come up, a little spidey work of my own to do, might not be back when I thought."

"Ohhhh, teaming up with Cooper again?" asked Morales.

Peter turned towards the Texan, who was sitting on a beach chair with a Sable International manual and a pen, annotating it between the sudden glances he would cast on the rest of the beach. "Yeah, he's doing good. But I gotta get going, just wanted to check in and it sounds like you're doing good. Remember, I'm just a phone call away if you need anything… well, that and a transatlantic flight."

"No worries, Coach, I got this," answered Miles confidently before the connection ended with a click.

Putting his phone aside, Peter relaxed, laying back on his elbows when Cooper asked, "The kid doing okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's doing just fine by the sound of things," returned Peter, noticing the Pilot's head snap around to look at the street behind them. "He's learning as he goes, like we all do I guess. I teach him what I can but… how do you teach your life's experience to someone who has no idea what it's like?"

"I already tried once, and I still don't have a fucking clue," he said, holding up the papers he was working on, and Peter could see it was a section describing 'Counter Titan Tactics' and it was prodigiously marked up. Stuff was circled, scratched out, notes in the margins, diagrams drawn over, and even some of the marks were crossed out and redone. "Nothing really works out like you draw it up, does it? When it was just me, or with BT, or you, or even Cat, when shit inevitably went wrong, we just figured it out on the fly, y'know?"

Peter nodded, knowing what the Marauder was getting at, "I get that," he agreed, "Sable rub off on you?"

But Matthew shook his head, "Just… lessons I learned the hard way. Don't want you to make my mistakes, is all. Figured I had to learn from them, adapt, do things other than the way I had done them. It's why I've stuck with Sable, joined her team." Peter listened, not just to the words, but the way his friend delivered them. The swagger and confidence was muted, and the Pilot sounded hardened and somber. "I know you want to do things the right way Pete but… I just want to get this done in the way that lets us all go home in one piece."

His tone set Peter's teeth on edge, and he measured his words carefully, "Those don't have to be different, Coop. We'll figure out something. When we do, I'll have your back man."

"Thanks buddy," replied Cooper, holding up his right hand, "And I'll have yours, to the end."

Peter balked at the choice of words, but didn't hesitate to grasp his friend's hand in a firm grip. Giving Matthew a nod, Peter let go and asked, "So, you got a plan?"

"Not yet," answered the Marauder with a shake of his head, "Still figuring that out. Gotta see what we can do, and what we can't. But security will be tight, our usual tricks won't work. Probably can't even pull the same shit we did on Colossus."

"So what can we do?" responded Parker.

"That depends, Felicia has some contacts here in the city, so does Silver Sable. We're waiting to hear back from them. When we do and we have a better idea of our options, we'll figure out what to do. The party isn't for a couple days, so we should be able to come up with something better," said Matthew, but Peter could see the way he had to bite out the words.

"That's not a good thing?" he ventured.

"We wasted two days trying to figure out where to go, and we have to wait three more to make a move. The better part of a week for Hydra to put Cassel to work," replied Cooper, holding up a hand with all five fingers extended. "She might have already decrypted the drive, and as soon as she has…."

"We'll find her, and we'll stop these guys," Parker assured, hoping he sounded as confident as he wanted to.

Peter wasn't sure if his words struck home, as Matthew looked away, scanning the beach, and Peter followed his gaze. His eyes were drawn to a trio of girls in their swimsuits, all blatantly staring at the two men, but Cooper's eyes carried on. "Not interested, Matt?"

Following the Texans gaze down to the shore, Peter was left speechless as he saw a familiar head of white hair emerge from the water as Felicia breached the surface, followed close behind by Mary Jane, both removing their snorkels as they walked up onto the beach. Felicia wore a scanty black bikini, the twin-fabrics of the top hugging her impressive bust, held together by the metal ring between them, still exposing a generous amount of her cleavage. The bottom was high legged and v shaped thong, the straps coming up over her hips which swayed with each step she took, drawing envious eyes from nearly everyone on the beach.

But it was a hard fought contest with MJ alongside her, beaming brightly at Peter as she emerged from the rolling waters, her own attire no less revealing. A floral printed bandeau top framed her perky assets and exposing even more of her freckled skin that Felicia's outfit and string bottom in the same print made her look classically beautiful, not trying too hard to be sexy, but managing it effortlessly as she practically glided across the sand. They made for a frankly stunning pair, and Peter felt his throat dry.

"I think we got something better already," drawled Cooper smugly, waving casually at the girls, who returned it eagerly.

In the corner of his eye, Peter could see their earlier admirers slink off as their girlfriends arrived, but didn't join them in sitting down. "You two finished making every woman on this beach jealous?" asked Felicia, hand on her hip.

"Are you?" deadpanned Matthew in instant reply as he accepted Felicias offered hand and got to his feet. Peter could see Felicia's Cheshire grin as she yanked the taller Texan down into a kiss that he only pulled his eyes from when he saw the shadow Mary Jane cast over him.

"Well?" she asked, lips curled up and hands on her hips, "Going to leave me feeling left out, Tiger?" Peter sprang up instantly and wrapped his girlfriend in a tight hug, feeling her slick skin against his as their lips met. When they separated, Peter was met with the expression Mary Jane used when she wanted her way, lips in a pout and eyes wide, "Why don't you come join us? When do we ever get a chance like this?"

"I was just wanting to keep Matt company," defended Peter, but that only caused MJ to turn her gaze towards the Texan.
Matt opened his mouth to speak, only for Felicia to cut him off. "You better not say you were working, Cowboy…" she said before her eyes trailed down to see the papers Matt had been looking over. "No more work today Matthew, none of my contacts can meet before tomorrow, so today? That's for us. I know you love to work, but isn't there something else you love?" she asked as she spun around.

"I love you Darlin," Matthew answered dutifully before he was dragged off.

Watching his friend go, Peter looked down at the redhead, "Coop's changed."

"Not surprising, with all he's been through," she replied before placing a hand on Peter's pectoral, "And he isn't the only one, Pete. Octavius, losing May, teaching Miles, you've changed too."

The Queens Native swallowed hard, but nodded in agreement. "And you're… okay with that?"

"Change is inevitable, isn't it?" she replied, "We learn, try new things, feel that sense of adventure call, but there's still that part of you, the part I fell in love with, Peter, and that hasn't changed."

Feeling the heat of his growing blush, Peter wrapped his arm around Mary Jane and held her tight, "And… uh, which part is that?"

Her hand trailed up from his abs to rest, palm down, on the left side of his chest, "This part, right here," she said, feeling the way his heart beat beneath her touch. "It still loves me too, right, Tiger?"

"Totally," was his stammered reply. MJ smiled enough to make his heart jump and lifted herself onto her toes for another quick kiss.

"Now come on, let's go enjoy this while we can."

"I told you, I brought a suit," said Peter as the pair stood at the door of a small shop in downtown Alexandria.

Cooper shook his head, "Not one for this party, you didn't. Don't worry, I need a new one too." Opening the door, the Texan ushered Peter into the shop, the walls adorned with a small selection of shoes and ties, none of which had price tags. Matt saw Peter squirm slightly, not used to the stuffy, uptight ambience of the high class tailor's shop. But before he could say something to calm his friend, the door behind the counter opened, and from it emerged a bald headed, lanky Italian with fair skin and pushing fifty, his face smiling genuinely when he saw the pair of Americans. "Antonio," Cooper greeted, offering his hand to shake, which the man did, "Thanks for coming down to help us out."

The tailor beamed warmly as he clasped Cooper's hand with both of his, "Anything for my favorite American, well, second favorite. After Ms. Hardy," amended the Italian.

"She's my favorite too, so I can't blame you for that," replied Cooper before his face turned serious, "Didn't ask you to come to chit chat Antonio. We have a party to go to on Saturday. Me and my friend here," he said while gesturing to the Scientist. "An old friend from New York, Peter Parker."

"Hi, how are…" began the Queens native only to be cut off as the Italian leaned in to give his more usual greeting of a kiss on Peter's right cheek and then his left, leaving Parker utterly dumbfounded. "Uh that was…."

"Americans," sighed the tailor before smiling once again and shaking hands, "It is a pleasure to meet you, signore Parker." With a casual hand, Antonio felt Peter's cheap zip up hoodie and gave the scientist a once over, "Yes, I can work with you. What is it you will be needing today?"

"A suit," answered Parker with a straight face, prompting Cooper to chuckle that nearly became a full on laugh as he watched Antonio have to fight to not roll his eyes.

"We'll be needing two actually," managed Matthew once he was sure he had himself under control.

"Very good, please come," instructed the Italian as he led the pair back to a fitting room where an assistant came out and offered a jacket and pair of trousers to Peter so his suit could be fitted. When Parker closed the door to change, Antonio looked back to the Texan. "Your friend, he is not comfortable in a suit?"

"Not this sort of suit," drawled Cooper with a shake of his head. "Hell, if he had his way he'd probably wear a lab coat to this party of ours."

Peter emerged at that moment, having changed with surprising speed if one discounted his experience donning his Spider suit. Antonio schooled his features and gestured towards the raised platform in the middle while the Italian produced a tape measure and his assistant readied a notepad and pencil. "Tell me," started the Italian as he laid the tape across Peter's shoulders, "Is this a formal event or a social affair?"

"Social," replied Cooper.

The tailor nodded and turned to his assistant, speaking in Italian as the other man jotted down a few notes. "Is this for day or for evening?" he queried, straightening Peter's arm and took another measurement.

"Evening."

"In what style?" asked the tailor while measuring hem length.

Cooper met Parker's eyes in the mirror and almost laughed at how wide they were with cluelessness before answering. "Italian for him," decided the Texan, pointing at his friend, "And British for me."

After looking back to ensure his assistant was keeping up, the Italian nodded at Matthew. "Very good. How many buttons?"

"Two each."

"Trousers?" returned Antonio.

"Tapered on both."

"Any… special items I should accommodate?"

Shaking his head, Matthew answered with a simple, "None."

That elicited a raised eyebrow from the tailor that knew Matt quite well, but he didn't question it. "Lining?"

Now Matthew grinned, "Tactical."

Matt caught a glance of Peter's bewildered expression, but Antonio didn't even bat an eye. "Naturally."

"What do you think of these?" asked Mary Jane, prompting Felicia to look up from her own task and see what the redhead wanted her opinion on. Watson had extended a leg to show off the shoe she had on, a modest tan flat that drew a frown from the platinum blonde.

"Girl, this is a party we're going to, not your Tuesday staff meetings," replied the heiress with a dismissive handwave before turning to the shop attendant. "Go get her some fun shoes, I don't care if she said she wanted ones like them or not." The employee nodded before leaving the private room where the women were left with small boxes of shoes and display racks full of other accessories, along with a few mirrors on the walls.

"These are fun shoes," pouted MJ as she slipped them off and set them aside before looking down at the thigh high boots Felicia had on. "Are you attending the party or are you the entertainment for it?" The comment didn't have any real malice behind it, and Felicia laughed as she stood up and struck a pose, showing off her legs in the skin hugging black leather. MJ giggled herself and then scratched the back of her neck, "How do you do that?" The Editor's question had Felicia raise an eyebrow, "Not be scared? Does anything phase you?"

Felicia sat down, and pondered the question for a moment before replying. "If you go into something expecting it to be a failure, you'll prove yourself right 100% of the time," Felicia said. Her lips quirked up, "Tell that to anyone who doesn't believe in self-determination," she quipped.

Unzipping the boot, Felicia heard MJ speak up, "Is that what Sable pays you for now? Black Cat: Motivational Speaker?"

"We both know that if I was up on stage talking, everyone would be paying attention, but wouldn't listen to a word I said." Smiling, Hardy saw that Mary Jane looked to be expecting more, so she gave an honest answer. "I consult, mostly, test security setups, keeps me practiced, helps me get a sneak peak at all the new countermeasures being implemented so when I go out into the field with the team I'm still as good as I ever was."

"And what about Felicia Hardy?" wondered Watson.

"I'm not like Peter," returned Felicia, "I don't turn into someone different when I suit up."

"No, but, you don't just spend the rest of your days in bed with Matt. Even you aren't that much of a slattern," teased MJ.

"No," admitted Felicia before grinning saucily at her compatriot, "But that would be fun, wouldn't it?" MJ's cheeks colored a touch as her lips curved upwards as well. "Well, in the old days, I was planning heists, or staking out places for heists, or thinking of heists, but now? Well, Sable frowns upon me doing them in her country, so I'd have to travel and that makes it so much more of a hassle that I don't do it as much anymore."

"And in the new days?" probed Mary Jane as she tried on the plainest pair of black pumps Felicia had ever seen.

"Well, Matt started investing his share of the money from the Maggia Job, so I started doing the same. I figured it made more sense than what my mom did, which was throw it at whatever vanity cause would earn her fake applause from rich pricks that I liked to steal from," said the Black Cat as she put her boots aside in favor of a pair of nice, strappy sandals with a cute lift on them.

"Oh, I like those," commented MJ as she stood in front of a mirror and examined the shoes she wore, Felicia fighting to hold her tongue. Thankfully, her counsel would've been superfluous, since Mary Jane arrived at the same conclusion, frowning as she toed the shoes off and sulked back to her spot. Opening the next box on her stack, MJ then looked up at Felicia. "So do you just do what Matthew does, then?"

The platinum blonde's head shook emphatically, "He's safe, sensible, sure, he takes his risks, but he buys stocks, bonds, goes into the money markets, precious metals, those sorts of things. The big, mainstream, 'safe' options."

"But that isn't you," intoned Watson knowingly.

"That isn't me," agreed Felicia. "So I do some currency trading, derivatives, venture capital, stuff like that," she listed off as she took off her sandals. "What about you? With your nose to the grindstone at the paper? How's that been?"

"Yeah, still there," replied the redhead, "Working on the book when I can, hoping this trip will help be the thing that lets me wrap it up. Assuming we ever get back to Symkaria for me to do more research," she mumbled, "Just gotta save the world first."

"That's the life Red, you're part of it now," replied Felicia. "Not that it's all bad, changing the world while getting to go shopping with other people's money."

"It is nice," agreed the Editor, "It's… really nice. It's the kind of thing I always wanted to do, making a difference, a real difference. Not just spellchecking filler pieces for page five," she said with a forced smile. Felicia looked up, fixing the redhead with a scrutinizing look, trying to see if the tension in her body was real or imagined. She didn't have to pry, however, as Mary Jane elaborated. "The Bugle is… a mainstream print news source, which means it's in trouble. There's talk of it being sold, and who knows how that'll work out? If I do keep my job, will I even be doing what I wanted to do in the first place. And if this book doesn't cut it then…" she trailed off, throwing her hands up, "I don't know what I'd do."

"I do," responded the thief, offering a small, but genuine smile to her friend, "You'll make the difference Red, you always seem to."

"Thanks… I think," said MJ before the shop attendant returned with a stack of shoeboxes and opened the top one, offering a pair of nearly salacious stilettos to the redhead, who took them with an apprehensive look on her face. Felicia gave her a, self admittedly cheesy, thumbs up and watched as MJ slipped them on before taking a few uneasy steps around the room. By the time the redhead had completed a circle of the room, she practically owned the floor, "Can I pull these off?"

"Girl, you're ready for the runway," assured Felicia before she examined the shoes more closely and tapped her finger against her chin. "Maybe a different color though, to match your dress."

"Stop fidgeting," whispered Felicia, causing Peter to stiffen in the passenger seat of their cheap rental car. The Webslinger stared at her, about to make a denial when he saw her with that mischievous look in her eye that told him it would be a futile effort. She must've taken his deflation as a acquiescence, and nodded down towards his lap, where Peter looked down to see he was idly fiddling with the assembly of his webshooters. Grinning sheepishly, the Queens Native saw the heiress look out the window of the parked vehicle, "There's our man, he's walking up now, in the Real Madrid jacket."

"The what?" asked Peter dumbly.

"Blue jacket, gold stripes down the sleeves," clarified Felicia, "Now cover those up, we gotta get going." Quickly rolling down his sleeves, Peter got out of the Renault and donned his coat, a leather flight style jacket with a version of the Spider-Man logo on the back, before following Felicia down the sidewalk, just catching a glimpse of the jacket she was talking about.

Parker reflexively tensed at the sight of the man wearing it, who easily had a head on him in height and probably weighed almost twice as much as he did. Carefully, he ran his fingers up against the base of his palm to ensure that the buttons for his webshooters were in place, just in case. Unbothered, Felicia strode on while Peter hurried to catch up to the undaunted heiress, focused as much on his surroundings as his sixth sense as he approached the door to the secondhand bookstore.

Unable to forget the lessons his aunt had drilled into him since he was a boy, Peter opened the door for the lady he was with, even if he wasn't dating the platinum blonde. Felicia gave him a dazzling smile as she removed her sunglasses and stepped into the bookstore. Peter came in and was taken aback by just how old the place felt, dank and musty, but in a homely sort of way. All around him, floor to ceiling bookshelves were full of books of all types. The only thing that kept Peter from wandering off was the fact that he couldn't read any of the signs. Only furthering the fish out of water feeling was when the woman behind the counter spoke to them in some foreign language, and Peter almost jumped out of his shoes as he pointed at himself, only for Felicia to answer back in some other foreign language, French, he thought, and the two women to rapidly converse in that language.

Their talk came to an abrupt end as Felicia moved on, and Peter offered the woman behind the counter a sheepish wave as he followed the Black Cat into the shop. "You know Felicia," whispered Peter as they passed by shelf full of physics textbooks, "Nobody ever told me why I'm here."

He reached out to pick out a book that caught his eye, only for Felicia's hand to slap his away, "Focus, Spider," she whispered, "This guy knows the security setup for the party, but he only agreed to share it with the people who are going. I'm here to do the talking, you're here to watch my back."

"What about Matt?" wondered Peter. "Wouldn't you want him for this?"

"Who says he isn't?" returned Felicia with a Cheshire grin before turning and continuing to weave through the shelves, seemingly at random, checking back over her shoulder every so often. Finally, they arrived in the cookbooks, and Felicia stopped to closely examine the shelves before finally deciding on a book about Italian food and pulling it out. Flipping it open, she rifled to a certain page and found a note scribbled in pencil in the margins that she pointed to before snapping the book shut. "Now come on, and don't say anything unless I tell you to."

Only slightly dubious, the Wallcrawler did as he was told, being led to a secluded corner of the shop and the reading table that was there. He couldn't possibly miss the big guy in the blue jacket sat down against the wall, facing them, but Felicia was unfazed, merely moving to sit across from him, Peter pulling out a seat for her before taking a seat next to her. "You are tourist?"

"Yes," replied Felicia, "When I travel to a new place, I like to find new cookbooks to take back with me," she said, holding up the book she had grabbed.

"Italian," the man observed, "May I suggest the local cuisine?"

"Maybe you're right," conceded Hardy, "I've always wanted to find a good shawarma recipe."

The man visibly relaxed in his seat as he scrutinized them again, "So, you are them, you are the ones going to the party." Felicia nodded once, which didn't surprise Peter, the man's next words did. "You are not Israelis."

"What?" blurted Peter, "No, we're American."

A chuckle emanated from the bigger man, "Naturally," he rumbled, "CIA?"

Peter was about to blurt out another answer, but Felicia beat him to it, "No. How would our friend say it?" she mused, looking at Peter, "We're part of a… private enterprise operation."

The man's eyes narrowed, "This is not the place for amateur hour," he accused harshly.

"We're a bit more than that," returned Felicia coolly, "How about a demonstration? Arm wrestle my associate." Peter wasn't sure who was more shocked, him or the man across the table, both were giving Felicia the same open mouthed expression for many long moments.

"Very well," rumbled the big man, placing his arm on the table, hand extended towards Peter. Giving one last look to Felicia, Peter only saw her confident smirk on her face as he resigned himself to the game she was playing and locked hands with the man. When the man pressed against Peter's hand with all his strength, but was unable to coax so much as the slightest budge from Parker. Slowly, carefully, Peter pushed back, gently pressing the man's hand down with the barest fraction of his strength without his face showing so much as a twitch, in stark comparison to the shaking, grimacing man across from him. As soon as he felt his opponents hand press against the wood of the table, Peter let go and pulled his own back quickly while the man across the table tended to his wouned pride. "You are like that then," he mused before pushing the book he was reading across the table. "You will find what you need in there. Be warned, there is someone else there, I do not know her name, but you would do well to be wary of her," he warned, eyes shifting towards Peter, "Even you."

"Excuse me, are you Dr. Ghosn?" asked Mary Jane, looking down at a somewhat scruffy Arabian man with long beard and receding hairline sitting in a small office in Alexandria's historic quarter. He gave her a dismissive glance, but nodded nonetheless, "I'm Mary Jane Watson, Daily Bugle, we spoke on the phone?"

There was a slight grunt from the man as he put his crossword puzzle aside, "Yes, we did. You said you were interested in the modernization of historic buildings?"

"That's correct," affirmed the redhead with a nod, seeing that Matthew, who was alongside her to keep her safe at Peter's insistence, since her boyfriend couldn't be present. "There's been talk in New York City about some of our old buildings being renovated and I know there have been some pretty substantial projects in that vein here, and that you were the man to ask about them, so… here I am."

"Indeed," he grunted, pushing his wheeled chair to a cabinet behind him and pulling it open, asked, "You said you were interested in the Citadel, yes?"

"That's right," affirmed Mary Jane, "There's talk about Fort Wadsworth on Staten Island back home."

"I see," grunted Ghosn, rifling through the papers while MJ and Matthew stood in awkward silence until the historian pushed his chair back over, "Here we are, these are drawings made for the first renovation in 1805." Without fanfare, the historian laid the two century old documents out across the desk. "Compare that to this," he said as he reached for another document. Laying this one out, the reporter recognized it as a more modern set of drawings, "These are from the modernizations that took place just a few short years ago. Was there anything specific you wished to know?"

"Obviously the appearance of the building saw a lot of attention, but we were hoping to learn more about these areas, the back of house spaces," replied Mary Jane, trying to refrain from overselling it. "How did they incorporate all the modernizations into a building where the designers never could have dreamed of them?"

"The electrical panels are here, the backup generator in this room," grunted Ghosn, engrossed in the drawings and not noticing the way the taller man beside the redheaded female reporter now took a keen interest in the papers. "All this here is now where they keep the various equipment, this extension had to be added on, damned ugly sight," he cursed lowly.

"And what's this?" questioned Cooper with a slight southern drawl as he tapped on a part of the old plans.

"It was a barracks building, or perhaps a mess hall," answered the historian before grumbling, "At least until they paved over it to turn it into a parking lot."

"A shame," agreed the Texan, "To have it right up against the wall like that, kinda ruins the view, don't it?" Mary Jane could see the gears in the Pilot's mind turning behind the hardening blue eyes.

"Quite," was the curt reply.

MJ could see the man's patience was wearing down to the breaking point, and interjected with sincere pleasantness. "I know there's no way I could take these with me, but could I have copies? I want to refer to them when I do my write up."

"No," said Ghosn, and Watson felt her heart sink, "But we have scans, I can have my secretary email them to you."

Smile returning, MJ began to rifle through her purse, "That would be perfect, but could you put them on this instead?" she asked, producing a thumb drive that had been the first thing her fingers had touched. "I don't want the filters to pick up your email, they don't like large attachments."

Grumbling, but not objecting, the old historian took the USB stick and copied the relevant files onto it before handing it back. "You are not to reprint those images without my express permission, which I will not give until I see the way they are used. If you have any questions, do not assume, call me," he instructed clearly before gesturing to the door, "Good day."

Mary Janes smile was genuine, the pair had gotten what they'd come for, "You too," she replied before they departed. Leaving the office, Matthew and Mary Jane returned to the Texan's parked McLaren, throwing up the doors on the British made supercar before settling down inside. Cooper brought the engine to life with the press of a button while the redhead tried to get comfortable, no easy feat in the tight bucket seats. "That's our part done, how'd Pete and Felicia do?"

Cooper had his phone out, "Gotta text from Cat, says Sable's contact was good, got some info. They're going over to case the Citadel, get a lay of the land. Sending her one or two things to check out for me," he replied before dropping his phone in the little cubby under the center control stack. "If we head that way then I'd just get in her way, best to let them work. Looks like they want to meet for lunch in an hour, which is probably how long it'll take us to get out there."

With that, Matthew put the car in gear and they began to roll while MJ opened her mouth, but struggled at first to find the words. Taking one look at a man she considered a friend, she swallowed her anxieties and decided to be blunt, "How are you doing, Matt?" He gave her a quick glance and opened his mouth, but the redhead cut him off. "How are you really doing? Peter didn't see you after Symkaria, I did." Cooper didn't answer, and so after waiting a beat, MJ pressed harder, "I don't know what happened up on that hill, or what it was like, but I could see what it did to you, I still can," she added softly.

"I don't think I'll ever be who I was before, but that's the nature of the beast, people change. Difference here, I reckon, is that all the things that changed us, Li, the IMC, Devil's Breath, whatever, we all went through them together," said Matthew before pausing. "Until that hill."

MJ… she didn't understand, but it was impossible not to recall visions of the carnage strewn across that hillside barely, she'd seen them less than eight months prior. She'd taken an account of things, how close it had gotten, the fighting had been hand to hand at some points, and Cooper's battalion had barely held on, saved only by the timely arrival of Silver Sable and her air forces. Nodding solemnly, the Associate Editor chose her next words with care, the blutness was deliberate, "Answer my first question, Matthew."

"I'm doing better," he said, sounding tired, surprisingly so. "Felicia's been… a godsend, really. I still can't turn it off, right? Be vulnerable, just not me, but she's just been there, every day, without fail, stubborn as I am. Seeing Peter again, just a kick in the ass about how much I've changed, he's still the same and I… I guess a part of me regrets that I'm not."

MJ smiled faintly, "That's not as true as you think it is," she said, "You haven't been around for the last couple months, see him rebuild his life, but there are still a few holes in it. One is May, that one's the biggest, it's also the hardest to fill." Matthew nodded solemnly, May had been a motherly figure for him too, when he'd just arrived in his new reality. Her loss had been a painful one for everyone. "The other one is you. You hurt him with what happened about Hammerhead, but he forgave you, I don't think you realize how fast. You two were like brothers, almost like Peter and… Harry. He's been different since we saw you."

The ghost of a grin on Cooper's face did more to lift MJ's spirts than anything the Texan had said so far, "In a good way, right?"

Giving him a playful slap on the arm, Mary Jane the weight on her conscience, if not fade completely, then at least lessen. "Yes, in a good way," she answered with a bob of her head and roll of her eyes. "Though, is this what you've been up to with Sable?"

"It's what she's taught me, the sort of stuff we used to do in New York, the 'cowboy' stuff? Not really how she operates, she taught me a whole new playbook," explained Matthew. "But part of me misses the old one."

"You should come visit New York, see our place, Peter's company," offered Mary Jane without really thinking, "It's not what you and Felicia have but…."

"I'd like that," answered Matthew, though Mary Jane didn't think she was the person in the car whom those words were meant for.

Cooper's Logbook - McLaren 720S Spider

While nothing quite matches the million dollar, 950 horsepower, custom tuned speed machine that is my McLaren P1, Widowmaker, the mad boffins from Woking took on the challenge with aplomb. Costing a 'mere' four hundred thousand, the 720S is a very different driving car to the older, meaner, Ultimate Series brother. Where the Widowmaker is a rocketship in a straight line, with more than 200 extra horses and a trick hybrid system that means the acceleration never ever lets up, the weight of those batteries is fighting the power and Pirelli tires in every corner. By contrast, the Sport Series 720S is 250 pounds lighter and benefits from four years of advances in suspension, chassis, and tire construction, meaning it corners completely differently from the P1 and somehow, is even faster.

An obvious question does come up, why? Why bother with the 'inferior' 720S when I already own one of 375 McLaren P1s, and the answer is simple. Felicia got a convertible Ferrari and I couldn't stand her having a faster car than me. While the Spider does give up some of that weight advantage over the P1, being able to put the roof down almost makes up for the lack of a roof scoop.

Closing Notes: Alright, a pretty brief chapter setting us up for more to come. Lots of John Wick references, obviously, hopefully y'all had as much fun reading them as I did writing it all out. Next time, we get to see what all that build up leads to.

Until then, Stay Frosty, Misfit Delta out.