Spider-Man SI

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***

State University of New York. 11:45.

My first lecture was... interesting. As soon as I walked into the auditorium, I was surrounded by students, both familiar and not so familiar. It so happened that they were all already well aware that I would be teaching them. In fact, word by word, and I was already explaining to a handful of curious guys and girls some peculiarities of the topic of the upcoming lecture. What's the matter, I got a little carried away, and I didn't notice the bell ringing. Actually, if it wasn't for Felicia, I wouldn't have understood anything. My friend came with me, as always, just for the fun of it. But she promptly passed out under my monotonous explanation. And it's good that the cat woke up fifteen minutes after the lecture started. She pushed me up, informing me confidentially about the beginning of the lesson. Confusedly, I stood behind the lectern and apologised for the delay to the audience. To which the rector assured me with a slight smile that the introduction was exciting, but too quiet for everyone to hear. Scratching the back of my head, I made a poker face and assured him that I would make it up to him. In order to come to my senses a little, I decided to come up trumps.

The thing is that on the way to the university, we picked up Gwen and went to the hospital where Connors was lying down. To see him, get some fruit and veg, cheer him up and all that. In the process we had an interesting idea, which we decided to realise. Looking at the journalists, I realised how lucky we were to have come up with it! After all, it is obvious that the sharks of the pen were not interested in my humble person. These watermen are here because of the prof. They hope that at least here they can learn something new and sensational. They're not allowed in the hospital. I didn't want to disappoint my unfulfilled colleagues, so I hurried to satisfy their professional hunger.

A little wiggled with the equipment, which at my request has already had time to adjust, I put on the lecture screen video dialer. Everyone stared at it with considerable interest. After a minute 'the tube was taken off', and the pale, exhausted face of the prof appeared on the monitor. The quality of the video was poor, but what did you want? In the short time we had, we couldn't think of a better connection.

The Prof made a speech. Oh! That was some speech! Oh, what a speech! Blood boiled in my veins, my breath caught, my throat spasmed, tears came to my eyes, and my soul fluttered in a worthless, pathetic human body... Well, I guess it was something like that. I wasn't really listening. More just trying to regain my composure and pull myself together. To summarise Connors's long speech into a few short statements, it went something like this:

- He's fine;

- He's healthy;

- He's at a resort... on the seas... roasting under a hot Spanish sky;

- All power in His fiefdom is in the complete and unlimited power of one Peter Parker, as long as the monarch is away;

- And lastly... He'll be back soon... so tremble mortals!

The above theses I formed on the fly, and more in jest. In any case, they helped me to get into the right mood before continuing the lecture. So, as soon as the monitor with the image of the cheerful pro became matte dark, I continued my speech with a steady voice. The audience was divided into two uneven parts. Students and professors rejoiced that their idol/colleague was alive and well. And a tiny part of journalists, and left here and now characters, began to murmur. Obviously the little bit of information Kurt gave them was...small. Pardon the tautology. But the guards were not slumbering and promptly sent the troublemakers out the door. Only the most cunning remained, hoping for more surprises and sensations. All this I noted by the edge of my consciousness, not really looking closely, I was again carried away by the story.

Well, that's how my first lecture went. It was a bit like a theatre of the absurd, but I took it for granted. Partly I had already accepted the fact that all my future life would, in one way or another, resemble this theatre. Somewhere, deep down...

***

We were sitting in a restaurant. Me and all my blondes. I feel like I'm going to be allergic to all blonde-haired females. Let's hope three is the max. Being in female company all the time is only cool at first glance. It's actually stressful and hard. Should I go find Murdoch and get drunk? Nah. I'm afraid Matt's not really the kind of guy you can hang out with. He's so gothic and rugged, I can't imagine him with a bottle of booze. But that's okay, he's tolerating it for now. You can keep your soul happy a little later. I'm a little busy right now.

- Enough of your cooing! - Felicia couldn't stand it, and pointed an accusing finger in our direction. - As if we haven't seen each other for ages!

Ignoring the uncultured girl, I hugged Gwen even tighter. Petra was watching us with interest, leisurely sipping her juice through the tube.

- There's nothing to be jealous of! - Gwen still got into an initially futile altercation. - I might miss my boyfriend.

- So, who's your doctor? - Cat's eyes lit up with excitement. - Hey! Why don't we celebrate Peter's new role?

- No, no, no, no...' I immediately objected.

- That's a great idea! - exclaimed Gwen.

- Yeah! - Petra now marvellously resembled one blue cat from the tail guild.

- Well, Pee-ee-ter! - they all started up together in an evil voice. Even the little one did her part. Oooh, traitor! And a sister!

- All right, all right... Tonight at my place. We'll sit down and have a little family celebration. If that's okay with you, of course?

- Or maybe.

- No!

- Come on, Pee-ee-it!

- No, I said no! If you want to go out, I'm not stopping you. Personally, I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you, little one! So don't even start!

- Buca!

- Evil big brother!

- Possessive!

We all looked at Felicia in surprise. We didn't get the point of the accusation. She just shrugged her shoulders in embarrassment.

***

New York City. One of an infinite number of skyscrapers.

The old man, tiredly, loosened his tie. He would have taken it off completely, but he was so used to the need to always look sharp that he couldn't help himself now. The look was one of his trademarks. Not as famous as grey hair, of course. But he'd gone grey when he was still a young man, not from old age as many people now believed. He was not sorry, on the contrary - proud, the nickname was to the lad's liking at the time. And even now it did not cause rejection. The old man had always honoured style, and had long ago not allowed anyone to see himself carelessly dressed. So he just loosened it, that's all. Basta!

Tipping a handful of pills into himself, he grimaced. The taste of some was not pleasant. Silvio didn't have a habit of popping pills. It was hard to change habits at his age, though. Very. The mobile phone vibrated quietly. Loud noises were annoying. Usually the elderly gradually lost their senses of sight, hearing and other senses. Silvermayne hadn't noticed any such deficiencies. On the contrary. He seemed to hear and see better than ever. Sometimes the old man had the feeling that it didn't seem that way at all... Now, even the vibrating phone was annoying. Dry, thin senile hands picked up a new-fangled device and brought it to his ear.

- I'm listening. - A calm, unhurried voice, it still did not lose its authority.

- ...

- Good.

The interlocutor was not famous for eloquence, as the conversation was very short. Silvio put the gadget on the table and drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the tabletop. He did not ponder for long. Sobriety of mind, and pure judgement was one of the few things he didn't doubt. Not yet. Too bad he didn't have a proper opportunity to prepare. What he was about to undertake was risky, the venture could fail, bringing nothing but trouble. But the rewards could be so great that it was worth fighting for. Of course, it had to be secured as much as possible.

Another grey-haired man entered the office. They had known each other for a long time. They'd started out in the same teenage gang together. Then they'd started their own. Jack always stayed in the shadows, just a little bit, but behind the back. There are some people who, by nature, just don't want to be leaders. They are not interested, indifferent, bored, disgusted... Jack was like that, he was a great fighter in many ways stronger than his boss, and he was not stupid. There were few people Silvio could trust, few people like Jack. He was the only one.

- I need mercenaries. Within the hour.

- It's going to be difficult.

- Do your best.

A brief conversation again, they'd been around too long to rule out the possibility of misunderstanding.

Jack returned a little over half an hour later. He was as impassive as ever, but the old man could see that his friend was not happy. After chewing his lip, he gave his report.

- Two dozen of the rabble. They'll go for meat in case of trouble. And one working pair.

- It's them you don't like. - The grey-haired man understood easily.

- Not exactly. - surprised an old acquaintance. - One of them's a total nutcase. I haven't met him personally, but I've heard rumours, persistent rumours. True, the mercenary is strong. But I still wouldn't risk it.

- Is the other one that good?

- More than good.

- All right. Let your men watch from the sidelines. But make sure they don't come at us. We don't need an adversary like that.

Jack just nodded. A moment later, the door closed softly.

***

Suddenly, out of the blue, I was doing a spider thing. Yes. I was weaving a spider's web, or rather something like a fishing net. The strange thing was that I realised this only after I had settled comfortably in the centre of my creation. Before that I had acted on automatic and with an empty head. However, if you think about it, there's not much strange in my actions, I've had spider reflexes and habits before. It was just unusual, hanging at a height of tens of metres, on a giant web in the centre of a huge metropolis... It was in a way even pleasant, the frantic wind that blew between the skyscrapers did not cause any discomfort. It was a little rocking and lulling. Though... If I had my will I would now, with the same pleasure would sleep at home. Moral fatigue is just as bad as physical. And though I tried not to show it to anyone, the first lecture wore me out pretty badly. But alas, alas... As it turned out, not fate! My blondes went shopping. It was necessary to buy some worldly trifles for Petra's comfortable life in the new place. It was not hard to guess that this trip would inevitably be long and take a lot of time. Having added two plus two, having calculated all the disadvantages and lack of advantages, I waved goodbye to them, and cowardly ran away. Let them carry their own purchases!

And so I hung there, swaying in the wind, and fell asleep. Cars were rumbling by below, crowds of people were rushing somewhere, helicopters were flying above me. Hmm... against the background of civilian light models, one managed to catch my attention, even through the half-dream. I wouldn't say that this chopper was overtly military, there were no weapons dodgers. But the device was massive, armoured and brutal. Moreover, the design itself was unusual, I had never seen such models. I would have been surprised and forgotten about it, but there was a 'but'. And what exactly was the 'but', I can't say anything here. Something caught my eye, something familiar, very familiar was in this aircraft. I don't know what it was, but it clung to my sleepy consciousness and disturbed it, bringing it out of its blissful state. I was about to remember what it was that was familiar to me in the helicopter when, the moderate noise of the city cut through the roar of the engine. Was it a jet?

Turns out it wasn't. The new stimulus was a car; I know them a little better than helicopters, but I still couldn't recognise this particular model. However, it had a super powerful engine, or the muffler had been ripped off. Judging by the driver's driving style, that option shouldn't be ruled out straight away. Speaking of manner... the car wagged like an alkie after a particularly productive drink. 'From pillar to post.' Then the driver got fed up with swerving between others, and he swerved into the empty oncoming lane. After looking at the next intersection in the crazy driver's path, I finally woke up, and without further ado, I took the plunge. I managed to pick up the old woman who was late on the zebra at the last second. The tips of my toes brushed the roof of the car, and the air wave almost knocked me off balance.

- They're robbing me!!! - screamed the old lady, as soon as I hit the pavement. - Help, good people!!!! They're robbing the old lady!

My cautious attempts to leave the strange old woman did not end well. The old woman clung to me even tighter, and her screams became several octaves higher.

- Oh, my God, I'm being raped.....

To be honest, I got a little chickened out...what's the big deal!? Specifically, I was fucking terrified! I had to force the words out, and they didn't sound much like human speech.

- Bashka... let me go... please... - the old woman squeezed me even tighter in her steel grip. - I... I still... need to stop that car before it hits someone else... please let go.

- 'Modern superheroes,' continued my tormentor in a completely calm voice. - 'have a distinct lack of tact. You, young man, should take a psychological first aid course. I may have a mental trauma, but you're standing there... - she clucked her tongue disapprovingly and pulled away, her eyes rolled back in admiration. - Back in my day... Cap was such a sweetheart... Eh, run along, spider.

I nodded sluggishly, not wanting to argue with the interlocutor turned around and took aim and launched a web. I heard a quiet 'thank you' at the very edge of sensitivity. It's time to stop with good pioneer deeds, my karma is already clean, for several years ahead! And I don't want to receive such psychological slaps even very rarely... b-r-r-r-r-r-r-r....

Catching up with the frantic car, with the muffler torn off, I was anticipating with what pleasure I was going to terrify the driver. The bastard had given me a good scare, and I was determined to repay him in kind. But reality is harsh. I couldn't catch up with the right car for quite some time, and when I did, the question became how do I stop it now? In the end, I just smashed the window and climbed in. I did it very conveniently, because the driver, being in a state of extreme incapacity, tried to make himself comfortable to take a nap behind the wheel.

Before the girls were free, I had time to do a few more things that were good for the cause of light. I saved a clerk from a gang of nice but poor guys, caught a young girl with some suicidal tendencies, and even made an attempt to save a stray mongrel from starvation. But that one did not appreciate my efforts and did not eat the pie bought especially for her. Offended barked at me and raised its tail and left. That's how in just half an hour the streets of the big and extremely green Apple became a bit calmer, and my karma became a few tones lighter. It was time to fear that the humble spider would soon begin to glow, get a halo, and grow cute white wings. Not that I would mind, but such features of mind and body would greatly de-cloak me, which is not a good thing!

Be that as it may, such a tiring day promised to come to an end soon. No, it didn't end, on the contrary, it was in full swing, but... My blonde friends called me back and pleased me by saying that they had bought up and were ready to go home. And from there, I wasn't planning any more outings today. Home sweet home, I'm coming home to you.

I knew something was wrong as soon as Felicia's car stopped. We had guests, judging by the grey petrol horse parked outside the house. We weren't expecting guests, and my gut and a little experience told me that things were going to get ugly. The word alone made me shiver. Sighing heavily, I remembered a wise saying. If you replace the word 'trouble' with 'adventure,' life immediately becomes less scary! Okay, let's see...

So far, my companions have not had such a nose for trouble...I mean adventure. Taking advantage of this, I was the first to enter the house, and so I heard part of an obviously uncomplicated conversation.

- No!' Uncle Ben thundered. - We've already decided to take Petra into the family, and I don't see why she should go to any boarding school!

- Mr Parker,' an unfamiliar male voice interjected conciliatorily into his uncle's angry monologue. - I completely understand your feelings. But there are certain procedures that neither you nor I can go against. Whatever it is, you are not the girl's relatives, and you have no right to keep her in your house. Believe me, she'll be taken care of at the boarding school.

- 'Taken care of'? - exclaimed the aunt angrily. - They have already taken care of her once! So much so that the girl was forced to run into the street!

- She ran away from the foster family, not from the orphanage. - softly objected the same unfamiliar voice. - Besides, we still need to understand the reasons for the girl's behaviour. That foster family in which Petra was placed, never caused any complaints in the social care authorities. Maybe the girl--

- Maybe what?!' Uncle Ben interrupted rudely, and I understood him; the implication that Petra might be lying made me rage uncontrollably. Being an empath I didn't doubt her words reasonably.

- What's going on here? - Taking in the situation, I entered the living room. - Uncle? Who are these people?

As it turned out, there were two unfamiliar people in the room. A man whose voice I'd already heard, and a woman who'd been silent all this time.

- Oh, Peter! - Auntie sobbed. - They want to take Petra away....

The last words of Aunt May, heard and entered the house blondes. I did not like the situation, so I hurried to send the girl away from the upcoming conversation. There was no reason for her to listen to it.

- Gwen, Felicia, Petra can you unpack upstairs?

- Sure, Pete. - Gwen took the girl by the hand and led her to the first floor.

- 'And yet,' I turned to my uncle after they had gone, 'who are our guests?

- They're from the social services. They say that by law they have to send Petra to a boarding school.

- It's a temporary measure. - a man in a suit with a stern suit has stepped in. - Until a suitable foster family is found. You can also apply, and if our management thinks....

Out of earshot, listening to the stranger's soothing speech, I frantically tried to think of a plan. I was not going to give Petra to anyone! Perhaps my decision was foolish, juvenile and so on. But the girl trusted our family, trusted us, and I couldn't just hand her over to someone else!

- I beg your pardon. - I insolently interrupted the stranger's monologue. - I'd like to see your papers.

The man looked at his colleague strangely. And she, sighing heavily, got up from her seat. Walked over to me, waved her crust, and turned to walk back.

- One more time, please. - I was beginning to dislike the situation more and more.

The woman irritably opened the crust at my eye level. Letting me read what it said.

- Sharon Carter... Sixth Interweb Tactical Operational Logistics Service? I've never heard of such a thing... - and then something clicked in my head, I recognised the symbol of this organisation. A black eagle with open wings, that's what seemed familiar to me in that helicopter! Of course, this intricate name is shortened to a simple one - S.I.T.

But what did a top-secret government organisation want with us? Or rather from Petra, because the purpose of their interests, clearly marked! It remains only to think that they are not interested in an ordinary girl. But a mutant, and what is important mutant - orphan! Recruitment? Of course! You'd have to be a fool to think the Avengers were the only agents with superpowers. If I were Nick Fury, the head of this spy and not only organisation, I wouldn't limit myself to ordinary people as my subordinates either.

S.H.I.E.L.D. is a very dangerous opponent! And I wouldn't want to relegate potential allies to the category of enemies right away... But they want too much! I don't bargain with friends! Even if now that the situation is almost clear, my act will be dozens of times more reckless, but I just can not otherwise!

There was a tense silence in the room, I can't say that I was thinking for too long, but nobody said a word. Well, if everyone's quiet, I'll continue.

- I've never heard of such an organisation. Tactical-operational logistics service? I'm sorry, I'm no expert, but that doesn't sound like a social services organisation. Let me call the police, our solicitor, and I think we should call some of the TV stations...

- Erm, why are you so nervous?

- I'm not nervous, I'm completely calm. - I said, dialling a number from memory. - Hello. Is this Nelson & Murdoch? My name is Peter Parker, I'd like to speak to my lawyer, Matt Murdock. Yeah, sure, I'll hold.

- Um... Mr Parker,' the name shield agent, who I never got to know, raised his hands conciliatorily and stood up from his chair, 'We don't want to escalate the situation, and we don't have all the documentation on this case with us. So we'll leave your house for now. Thank you for your hospitality!

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents promptly left the house and got into a car and drove away. I had a brief word with Matt, who had just been connected to me by my secretary, and hung up.

- Pete, what was that? - My aunt and uncle couldn't figure out what was going on.

- That's what I'm going to find out. In the meantime, you guys wait for your lawyer to get here.

- You have a lawyer?

- It's a long explanation! He's a friend of mine. When he arrives, you'll tell him the background of the situation. The whole story. Even about Petra being a mutant.

- But...

Without listening any more, I rushed to the first floor. But it was empty, my blondes were absent. My heart skipped a few beats in alarm. I dialled Gwen. It turned out that the girls did not think for a long time decided to hide Petra at Felicia's house. First scolded me for nearly giving me a heart attack, then praised me for being smart and savvy. Rolled downstairs, warned my relatives how to behave in case the social services came round again.

- 'Petra ran away after your first visit.' Stick to that. The girl's staying with Felicia for now.

I grabbed my rucksack and ran out into the street. I had to follow the S.H.I.T.O.V.s and figure out what to do next. They hadn't travelled far. The agents had stopped at the nearest café, and were now heavily drinking caffeine mixed with nicotine. I wanted to overhear what they were talking about, but I couldn't do it without being noticed. So I had to wait. A little over an hour. Then Sharon Carter and her partner saddled the iron horse and rode into the centre of town. I followed closely behind, afraid I'd lose them. Leaving the car in the underground car park, they went to the lift. If my memory serves me correctly, this is definitely not an office building. On the ground floors there is a shopping and entertainment centre, above that a casino, then something else of the same kind. Where would they go? Use your head, I'm buying candy! I couldn't climb the car park, there are video cameras everywhere, and I'm not supposed to shine. While I was thinking where to look for agents, I climbed to the roof of the building. To my joy I found a small landing pad for helicopters. And the machine itself, with a black eagle on the fuselage!

Well, all that's left is to find the right people in a huge building. Bollocks to the question.

***

Sharon was terribly nervous. Ever since that phone call, she'd been so nervous. All the agent's efforts were spent on hiding her unprofessional state. Jonathan was worried, too. Though it was hard to see his reaction. His partner still acted like an idiot and made a lot of jokes. It was only after the third cup of coffee that Sharon noticed that even for himself Joe was joking too much, and sometimes the jokes were even more stupid than usual. The visit to the Parker family home, contrary to expectations, did not add to the calm. Both agents felt like they'd failed cleanly. No, they had acted as instructed, but the feeling of failure lingered. It was good that there was still time before the meeting, at least they could clean themselves up. Damn the time! A frantic glance at the cafe's wall clock - phew... on time. My nerves are shot.

- Let's go, Joe. - the girl pushed back the unopened cup of coffee.

- Yeah, sure, babe, whatever you say. - partner's smile faintly implausible.

Suddenly the ride calmed her frayed nerves. Sharon loved car rides, really only if she was in the passenger seat. She rarely drove herself unless it was an emergency. She was a confident woman. Up in the lift, a brief wander through the corridors, and the target was almost there.

- We have an appointment.

- Have a seat. You'll be paged. - It's an agent just like them, only higher ranking.

It didn't take Sharon Carter's brain long to do its usual thing. Analysing the environment. A good agent must be constantly alert and memorise everything that happens around him. Not only that, but he must be able to draw conclusions from the data. So the girl wanted to exercise her mind. The building itself, where the agents were to meet, was not remarkable. But the restaurant located in it offered its clients very extensive opportunities, of course, in addition to the impressive cuisine. It was possible, for example, to rent a separate apartment for important meetings and negotiations. It was in the living room of such apartments that the young employees of Shch.I.T.a., invited by their superiors, were seated now. Unfortunately, it was not possible to get acquainted with the design in detail. Only a couple of minutes passed when the doors of the office opened. A man in an expensive, branded suit entered the hall with a nervous, jittery gait. He frowned and mumbled something angrily under his breath. But he did it quietly enough. As the man disappeared down the corridor Agent Carter finally recognised him. He seemed younger in person than in the photos and rare videos she'd seen. Justin Hammer is a gun mogul, that's who had just left the temporary residence of their superiors. Turns out that's who the negotiations were with? Interesting, but nothing more. She doesn't need that information. No need to know what had been whispered about for literally half an hour behind that massive, beautiful door. Why would she need to know why the death merchant had come out disgruntled. Why should she think about it? Stop! What do you mean 'why'? It may not be necessary now, but who knows what might be tomorrow? Perhaps the bits of knowledge she had gained yesterday, a week, a month ago would save her life at the most critical moment! And in general! And who was just thinking about what a real S.H.I.E.L.D. agent should be like? That's right! With a truly Herculean effort, Sharon forced herself to calm down, and rose to her feet. She and her partner had already been invited.

Sharon looked at the owner of the luxurious office and wiped her eyes. The reality of what was happening was hard to believe! It should be clarified that the Sixth Intervected Tactical-Operational Logistics Service is very closed, even from itself. There are several levels of access to the information the service has. So being agents with the lowest level, the partners had only the surface layer. Even about S.H.I.E.L.D. itself, they knew painfully little. Just the basic objectives, some small details, and that was it. There were more rumours and tall tales. For example, a funny story that the main location of the organisation is a flying fortress. Well, really, what a load of rubbish! And there were many such nonsense rumours.

One small detail in the truth, which could not be doubted was the name of the leader of the service. Nick Fury. The person who, in fact, had encouraged Sharon to join S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place.

- Come in, why are you standing on the doorstep?

The gentle, enchanting voice was not, contrary to expectation, angry or irritating. As if on automatic, Sharon walked a few metres and sat down on the edge of the chair, her partner sat down on the next one. Opposite the agents in a soft leather armchair, a woman of enchanting beauty was seated. Her right hand was lightly shaking red wine over the walls of the glass. Her only eye was blissfully closed, the other covered by a leather bandage. Her hair was gathered, a slight smile wafting across her languid lips.

- Not that I'm in a hurry, but still... - the colonel paused to take a sip of her drink, - how is my request?

- Er... I'm sorry,' Sharon, feeling the traitorous heat on her cheeks, began to recount her visit to the Parker house. She was secretly glad that Colonel Fury had never opened her eyes. - As a result, we had no choice but to leave.

Having finished her short story, Agent Carter lowered her gaze cowardly, expecting a reprimand. But it didn't come; a minute passed, then another, and not another word was spoken in the room. Sharon timidly looked up. The Colonel was still sitting there, with her eye covered, and gently shaking her glass. Here was the ideal of career, and--and of any other growth! A woman with the courage to take on such a responsible position. That's the man, no, that's the Woman that Sharon looked up to! Nick Fury. That's right, Nick. Why not his full name? Why not Nicole? It was hard for Sharon to answer, it's just what everyone called her.

- Well, thank you. - After a dozen minutes, Fury opened an eye of startling grey. She looked around at the visitors with a keen eye, hummed quietly, and returned to her interrupted task. The remnants of the red liquid left the glass. But an agent, unnoticed by Sharon, slipped into the light and picked up the bottle and filled it. - Thank you, Thomas. - Nodded gratefully to the colonel, and covered her eye again.

It was only when Jonathan got up from his seat that Sharon realised that this was the end of their brief meeting with their superiors. She wanted to continue.

- Wait! - The words came out almost automatically. - Is that it? What are we supposed to do with the Parkers? Or did we do something wrong? Did they pull us off the surgery?

- An operation? - Nick was surprised. - What are you talking about agent?

- What do you mean...' Sharon was confused, 'what about...?

- There was no operation. It was my little request, wasn't it? Come on Agent Carter, did I give you an assignment?

- ...' - frantically going over her phone conversation with her superiors Sharon lowered her gaze in shame, - ... you did not. - She agreed grimly, and it was a shame to admit that she hadn't noticed such a small thing. She automatically took Fury's request as a direct order.

- Come on, Shar. - John asked gently.

- All right, I get it! - Some childish stubbornness had taken over her nature. - But that girl could really be a mutant!

- She could be. - Fury agreed easily. Opening her only eye again, she stared at Sharon curiously. For some reason, that pissed her off even more.

- And we're just going to leave it at that?!

- We are. - Nick agreed just as easily. And then she put out her palm, stopping the agent who had already taken the air for an angry tirade. - Stamina's a good quality, Agent. I suggest you think about it.

Sharon deflated like a balloon introduced to a cactus. Jonathan obeyed the weak gesture and settled back into his chair.

- But curiosity has its charms, too. Of course, if it is exercised within reasonable limits. You want to know why we leave the Parkers and that girl alone? Well, I'll tell you, there's not much to the case. Just this morning on my way to New York, I had my first look at the file. In a nutshell, you're already familiar with the case. The head of the foster family in which Petra lived for a short time, after he was charged with paedophilia, began to shout loudly that the girl is allegedly a mutant. And just an hour ago I learnt that this man has officially announced that he is retracting his statement. And admits that he slandered the girl out of emotion. And also just before you came to see me, I learnt that Petra Parker's case has now been taken up by Matt Murdoch, with the active support of the Hardy family's lawyers. Shall I go on? - Nick smiled sweetly.

- No,' Sharon replied grimly. - If we start pressing on the Parkers, then... in any case, this scheme will not go quietly. And we can't draw unnecessary attention to the organisation.

- Good point, Agent. - said Fury approvingly. - The boy's got some damn interesting friends....

- Boys? - Carter thought the colonel seemed very proud of this 'boy', as if he was someone very close to her.

- Peter Parker. - Nick explained.

There was a muffled explosion somewhere outside. The open window didn't insulate well at all from the cacophony of street sounds. An agent named Thomas stepped smoothly to the window. Apparently not noticing nothing, he opened the door and slipped out onto the balcony. He returned a moment later, but only shrugged at Fury's questioning look. Something was always happening in this city, exploding, igniting, and sometimes even freezing.

- Once again, please accept my thanks agents. You have fulfilled my request well. I hope that promising employees like you will continue to do the service nothing but good.

The two agents with the lowest clearance level so far finally said goodbye to their superiors, assured them that they would do their jobs faithfully, and went to rest. Their workday had long since ended. The doors, practically in front of the agents' very noses, swung open towards them. The sounds of fighting and gunfire burst into the room. Carter managed to roll to the side on reflexes alone. But her partner wasn't so lucky. An unidentifiable man in a red-and-black suit, covered in firearms and edged weapons, met John's face with the sole of his boot.

- Learn the power of my heel, you bastard! Booga-ga-ga-ga-ga...' the type yelled merrily.

- They won't let you relax. - Nick said sadly, finished her wine and only then started to get up from the chair.

Thomas, on the other hand, acted more quickly. Immediately, pulling out a gun, he fired several bullets at the bandit. One in the torso, one in the arm.

- Hey! What are you doing!? - yelled angrily at the red-black man. - Where are you shooting at my arm? You're shooting at my favourite! It just grew back the other day! And you're blowing holes in it! You should shoot at the torso, it's armour anyway!

- You're talking rubbish again! - another strange guy came into the room. You could tell from his clothes that he was a knight of the Middle Ages. Of course, he wasn't completely encased in armour, but he was wearing some of it. As well as a sword with a steel shield in his hands. Another notable detail was the skull-shaped metal mask that hid the raider's face.

Thomas once again let out a few lead gifts, aiming at the new visitor. But he moved his shield slightly to cover himself from the shots, and in a few leaps he was near the agent. A sword slash and Thomas fell on his side, staring in amazement at the blood on his hands.

- Colonel, can we stop the bloodshed? - Knight turned to Fury, nodding at the still ongoing firefight in the lobby of the apartments. Several S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were struggling to fight off a dozen men of gangster appearance. - We are simple mercenaries, we don't need any extra blood.

- I'm afraid that's not possible. - Nick pulled out a monster-looking revolver and a large army knife.

At that moment, Sharon finally realised she had a gun too. While no one was paying attention to her, she armed herself with the gun, took the safety off, and fired half a clip into the still wailing red-black man. Remembering her body armour, she aimed for the head. At least two bullets found their target. The raider fell to the floor. Her hand leads the weapon to the next target, as if in a drill, the rest of the magazine is fired into the knight's back. But he at the last moment, as if anticipating the danger, goes aside, and immediately catches on the shield revolver bullet of the colonel. The shot made his ears ring, and the seemingly indestructible shield was dented quite a bit.

Sharon barely has time to follow the swift fight between Nick and the knight, who have come together in close combat. Simultaneously, the hands on the automaton discard the empty magazine, and insert the spare.

- Ayyyyyyyyyy... - a kick of her foot throws the ready-to-use pistol aside, Sharon stares in amazement at the muzzle of the automatic pistol, and at the very definitely alive red-and-black. - Why won't anyone listen to me? I told you to shoot at the torso, at the torso!

The finger in the glove slowly presses the trigger, but at the last moment the weapon is ripped out of the hands of the bandit and the bullet with hot breath only scratches the temple.

- Maybe they think you're crazy. That's why they don't listen to you? Have you seen a psychologist lately?

Sharon looked at the new costumed lunatic hanging upside down from the ceiling without surprise.

- Oh! I see a like-minded person! A cool leotard in the right colours can adorn any man! In the name of the moon! Join my fan club! And get a packet of biscuits and a cute unicorn pin.

- I'm sorry, I'm more of a ponies guy.

***

- I'm sorry, I'm more of a puffin fan.

I tried to hit a mercenary in the head, but I was surprisingly successful. Even though I was aiming from an awkward position, and Deadpool could have reacted to my blow. To think I'm fighting the chatty mercenary himself! It would seem that I, Peter Parker, should not be surprised by this. But such 'little things' as meeting with iconic characters, touched me, and did not leave indifferent. It would seem that Deadpool, so what? A psycho, he's a psycho in Marvel. What good is he? Well, I agree with that in one sense. But before I went into battle, I was seriously considering whether I should take his side. Honestly, I was ready to spit on possible preferential treatment from S.H.I.T.A. for their help. The mercenary, no matter how delusional it sounded, was of great interest to me, and friendship with him was very, very tempting. The only thing that stopped me was that S.H.I.E.L.T. could really help in case of trouble. And the mercenary didn't seem to realise all that he had, and how lucky he was in life. The perks from him were attractive as hell, but very elusive and relative. In other words, I decided not to trade a tit in my hand for a mythical phoenix in the sky.

While the mercenary was recovering from the blow, I took a quick glance to assess the situation. There was still a sluggish firefight in the hallway, and no help was needed there. The agents were competently positioned, and the mercenaries didn't have powerful enough weapons to smoke out their opponents. Sharon Carter watched her superiors fight another mercenary with big, surprised eyes. I looked over there as well. The masked man with the sword and the mangled shield was faintly familiar to me. But I couldn't remember his name. All I could remember was that this guy could copy the enemy's fighting style. Agent Carter's superiors shocked me a little. Right off the bat. First of all, judging by the eye patch, I'm looking at none other than Nick Fury. But why the hell is he a woman? Fucking hell! Not only is he black in the films, but now he's suddenly black for political correctness. And secondly, Nick was... wasn't just a woman... shit! The head of S.H.I.E.L.D. looked insanely like Angelina Jolie.

- Yeah, beautiful! - Deadpool clucked his tongue dreamily, leaning on my shoulder. - I'd even cheat on my favourite right arm for one like that! If I'd known, I'd have refused to hire her, but you're right, third voice, I wouldn't have met her!

- Listen! - I suddenly blurted out. - How about I throw you out of the window?!

- It's tempting, of course, but it would hurt...' Poole said thoughtfully. - All right! But just so you know. I'll fight back, you rascal. - and elbowed me in the ear.

As it turned out, he knew how to fight, and he knew how to fight very well. I'd forgotten all about my web. It was only when I saw that Fury had run out of cartridges in that horrible thing that masqueraded as a revolver that I realised that I must speed up. No doubt the colonel was an excellent fighter, but the revolver was the only thing that kept her going. In hand-to-hand combat, if my memory serves me, the mercenary is particularly strong. So I wrapped a web round Poole, head to toe. The mercenary's mistake was in not paying enough attention to it. If he'd had time to draw his swords, or one of his knives, he might have had a chance to get out. As it was, a well-fixed patient needed no anaesthesia! Picking up the cocoon with only his head sticking out, he jumped out onto the balcony.

- Fly, Forrest, fly! Heh!

- Ay belive ay ken fly! Ay belive ay ken touch ze sky! - In a fake, distant voice, the mercenary sang out.

- What the hell! Did I really just throw him out the window?! - I mumble in shock.

I quickly snap out of my stupor and rush to Fury's aid. She's not doing so well, by the way. Specifically, she's not doing very well. But it depends on how you look at it... because a person deprived of feelings doesn't really give a shit about the surrounding reality. Tuskmaster (I finally remembered his name) was searching the Colonel's senseless body, and I could see a small rectangular steel-coloured object gleaming in his hands. It looked like a flash drive. Hiding the object in his pocket, he managed to dodge my blow. A fight broke out. At first it even seemed like I was winning, but a few minutes passed, and my new opponent began to advance sharply. As if having learnt my fighting style, the guy playfully blocked or mostly dodged my blows. Tuskmaster was a fearsome opponent, and my spider abilities and tricks were of little use to me. An attempt to replicate the trick I had recently pulled on Deadpool failed. My web was very strong, but my sword cut it very well! I'm ashamed to admit it, but I don't understand how I didn't get stabbed during the fight... Actually, I was saved by the waking up head of S.H.I.T.A. Having reloaded her revolver, she fired two shots and drove the mercenary away from my somewhat cut carcass. And so we stood frozen against each other. Fortunately for this peculiar knight, the situation was not the best. His partner, i.e. Poole, I have neutralised, the rest of the bandits are being killed by the reinforcements of agents who came from the roof, and Taskmaster himself has lost his shield, and now he has nothing to cover himself from bullets.

- Surrender! - Nick commanded hoarsely. - You can't get away!

- I have a different opinion. Besides, I've already got what I want.

He threw a grenade under his feet and disappeared in a dense puff of smoke. I wanted to chase him, but I took a few steps and suddenly got caught on something and fell down.

***

If anyone asked Kurt Connors the secret to escaping from the hospital, he'd have an easy answer. All it takes is a confident face and the ability to wear a white coat. With such talents, Kurt easily left the hospital grounds, vowing to return the stolen dressing gown to the hospital. A taxi promptly took the brilliant scientist home. Billy was terribly happy that his father was home at last, his wife Martha was no less terribly angry at her husband for leaving the hospital. Kurt himself was terribly nervous. But not because he'd broken that ridiculous bed rest the doctors had frightened him with. He thought that with his family, his fear and excitement would fade, but it didn't. On the contrary. The guilt and anger at himself took on a whole new level.

Kurt remembered everything. All the time he'd been a horrible monster, he remembered. Even though he wasn't at the helm, he remembered everything and forgot nothing. He was ashamed of what he'd done, he was ready to burn with remorse. The realisation that he might have harmed the people closest to him was maddening. Looking into his wife's eyes, he kept seeing fear there. And it was unbearable.

After putting Billy to bed, without saying a word to Martha, he quietly got ready and went outside. His feet led him to the university laboratory. After a few words with the surprised guards, the professor entered the room. He walked through the empty rooms, put on his old dressing gown, took out a dusty bottle of whisky, a dirty glass from his modest savings, and sat down in a chair. How many times had he fallen asleep right there? A lot. Countless. The whiskey burned his throat. Kurt filled the glass again.

- Solitaire, solitaire, where is it? - his hand switched on the computer. - Okay, what's this?

Right on the desktop he found a new folder. When he opened it, he saw many text files, and one at the very beginning signed in big letters - 'DOCU'. Opening it, the professor read a short letter.

- Peter is as usual in his repertoire. - Doc chuckled softly. - Always unpredictable.

One of his best students, and also the one who had saved him and helped him regain his humanity, was offering Kurt a new and ambitious project. But Connors didn't want to do science right now. It disgusted him, for it was the very thing that had made him... a monster. It was her fault! A glass shattered with a distinctive sound.

***

- This is case number one. Why one? It's about my new soul mate! A new member of a fan club named after me!

I just gritted my teeth like a toothache. How would you like to be married without you? Well, I'm not thrilled, to say the least.

- By the way, bro! You were right! Unicorns do unicorns dry! No, you know what I mean, bro? Dry. No lube! Ha-ha-ha-ha! I mean,' Poole continued with a laugh, 'I've changed the name of my fan club. 'The Pink Pony!' А!? Does that sound good? Why pink, you ask? Pink is a classic, bro!

- Judge, don't get distracted! - howled an indignant and indignant howl from the Hammer. - Let's settle this matter quickly and go home!

- Wow, we're formidable! - Deadpool chortled with delight.

- I agree with the accusation. As silly as it sounds. - Murdock rose from his seat. - we must conclude today's proceedings. Due to the absence of my client, I move to adjourn the trial to another day.

- Are you blind?! - I'm yelling outrageously. - I'm sitting behind you! Oh, right, you're really...

- He's not here today! Tomorrow he's gone! I think Mr Parker is deliberately sabotaging the trial! Which, by implication, proves his guilt.

- Hey! Can't you see me? - I turned round and waved at a crying Gwen, but she looked right through me.

- Silence in the hall! - loudly banged his hammer on the table mercenary. - Personally, I see my mate! Well done, bro! You're really good at keeping out of their sight! Oh, I can't do that. All right, all right. Let's keep the fun going. I give the floor to Mr Spider's lawyer.

Screw them! They can't see, so what the hell! I can't feel my left arm.

- Thank you. - Matt said, 'Thank you. - As I'm sure the distinguished jury has noticed, neither the prosecution nor the court can agree on the proper name for my client. Not only that, but we don't even know what Vladimir Romanov is being charged with!

- What do you mean, what?! - screamed Hammer, throwing saliva. - It's obvious! The jury should know!

I turned my head in the direction of those mentioned. There were several people sitting behind a small fence. Lizard, Mysterio, Kostik - a classmate of mine, Volodya Romanov. I remember I used to bully him all the time, I didn't like him! Also behind the fence sat Brock in a fake Venom costume. And most importantly, there was the kid I killed inadvertently... by miscalculating the force of the blow. If the others were anything but indifferent, looking at this little thug made me cringe.

I don't know why I'm on trial here, but I guess I won't deny my guilt in his death. I wasn't surprised that there were no other people on the jury who had died by my hand. I'd wiped out Osborne's goblin squad, but I'd done it deliberately. Conscious, damn it! Let them give me nightmares! Let them keep me awake! I did it by making a decision, and no matter how bad it was, it was made in my right mind! I believed then, and I believe now, that I had no other choice! I regret what I did, but at the same time I have accepted it. I've embraced my dark side, as pathetic as that sounds. And I will do the same if I have to. I will take a life if it threatens me or my loved ones!

But this kid's situation is different. I didn't want to kill him. He didn't deserve it. As a simple, petty criminal, he hadn't done anything really bad in his life. Perhaps he could have reformed himself, become a better man, remembered his old mother, his sick father, had a family of his own, children... And I cut that thread of a possible future. I did it by my own stupidity, bragging about my possibilities....

Mindlessly looking around the courtroom, I was falling desperately, my feet did not feel the floor, the cold that settled in my left arm was rapidly spreading throughout my body. The light was fading fast, and I felt myself falling deep into a bottomless well.

My gaze locked on a face so familiar and dear to me. Uncle Ben!

- With great power, comes great responsibility...' I whisper his words.

I don't know why, but it's his favourite saying. Although... why... I know! He told me that if our family had aristocratic roots, our motto would be this very phrase. That's right! It wasn't just my uncle who said it, it was my father too. How could I have forgotten?!

My legs are back on solid ground. I have someone to live for! You can't bend under the burden of the past, you have to appreciate what you have today and do everything for a better future!

The meaning of the theatre of the absurd reaches my consciousness again. And I'm finally making up my mind! There is only one problem of the past left. If I'm going to solve it, I have to solve it! Who am I? Who am I more of? Peter Parker? Vladimir Romanov? Or maybe the good superhero Spiderman? Who owns this carcass? Or maybe I'm someone new? A symbiosis? I've been running from these questions for months now... afraid to ask them to myself, to bring them into the light. I think I've had enough of this bullshit! I am who I am! The one who loves science, the one who can't go long without the weight of a camera in his hands, the one who's crazy about Gwen... So I'm Peter Parker after all? Well, no! I'm not like him! I'm not a good samaritan at all! I admit I'm a lot more Peter than I am Vlad. But I'm not him. Better, worse, it doesn't matter. I'm just different. Peter Parker from another universe! That's right! I'm not in the classic Marvel universe, so why do I care that your friendly neighbour Spiderman will never be here?! That the world will never see the classic blue and red tights?!? I don't care!

Well. I am Peter Parker, just the way I am! Vlad Romanoff is my past reincarnation. It may have a weighty imprint on me today, but it's a past life. I won't cling to it any longer, but I don't intend to forget it either!

My eyes went black and I felt dizzy. That sometimes happens when you get out of bed abruptly. There was still darkness in the periphery of my vision and only a small slice in the centre could be seen.

- You're beautiful, Nick Fury...' I whispered, staring at another delirium of a sick mind. The colonel opened her eyes in surprise and ran the back of her hand over the tip of her nose, staining it red. - In her hand... take it... I think it's yours....

The darkness completely obscured my eyes again, and I finally dissolved into it.