Spider-Pet Pt. 04
Week two came with high anticipation, both for the project team and the investigation. Peter's idea to bait out the saboteur hadn't yet borne fruit, but it was just a matter of securing the prototypes and analyzing the data once the trial period was done. He'd told Silver about m113—Guillame's predictive algorithm—and how it factored into the auto-fire issue she'd hired him to fix. While it was possible someone was manipulating the algorithm to cause the "glitch," nobody knew the inner workings of m113 like René.
Time would tell if the bait data reflected his guilt.
More concerning was the perimeter breach Silver had told him about days ago. They still hadn't found anything dangerous or out of place, which was somehow even more worrisome. A bomb or an EMP would be bad enough given how reliant the castle's security system was on tech. But if the saboteurs had infiltrated something worse...well, they had to keep looking either way. At the moment, Peter was doing his weather best to look like he was focusing on the remote prosthesis project while keeping an eye on their two main suspects.
René was getting increasingly irritated with the lag from the drone-based system, while Erina was troubleshooting and trying not to laugh.
"Still a two-hundred millisecond lag with each movement," René said. "It shouldn't affect the weld except to slightly delay the input. Yet somehow the accuracy keeps falling with each iteration." He sighed and threw down a tablet pen in frustration. René scowled and glanced Peter's way. "Parker, have you been fiddling with m113?"
Peter stared at him with an arched eyebrow. "No?"
René glared. "Is that a question or statement?"
Peter's jaw clenched as he forced a smile. "Statement. Just a little confused why you'd think I was causing the glitch."
René sneered a bit and turned back to his monitor. "Wouldn't be the first prosthesis you've turned to merde."
Peter's blood went cold. He glared at Guillame's back while Erina visibly cringed.
"You have something to say to me?" Peter asked coldly.
René barely gave him a glance. "Nothing worth discussing."
"Then keep the snide comments to yourself. Ms. Sablinova wanted me on this project for a reason."
"Yes...one must wonder what reason that might be."
"Let's all take a breath," Erina interrupted.
"And I have to wonder why someone as brilliant as you feels so threatened by a newcomer," Peter shot back. "Especially when my only function here is quality control as a second pair of eyes."
René laughed. "You think I feel threatened by you? A glorified boy-toy with no valuable accomplishments to his name?"
"If all you can do is hurl insults without any logical reasoning, then yeah, that seems like pretty 'fragile ego' behavior."
Guillame just about shot from his seat when Erina gently pushed him back down.
"All right," she said, "let's all just...take a breath." She turned to Guillame. "This is pre-alpha testing, René. It's not going to work right the first hundred times. Nobody's that smart." She shifted attention to Peter. "You are a fresh hire; try not to provoke someone who's been here from the start."
Peter cocked his head a bit. "Provoke? I'm sorry, I wasn't aware pointing out obvious harassment was provocation."
"Peter—"
He waved her off. "Don't worry. I got it."
Peter turned back to his station and pulled up another cluster of code as Erina sighed. The room went quiet. Peter frowned at his own biting tongue. That was...very unlike him. It was like he'd started becoming a completely different person since taking this job. He wasn't sure he liked it. Still, getting that arrogant prick flustered over being called out on his abrasive attitude had been immensely satisfying. Peter had always hated bullies, and maybe the worst kind were the borderline/not-so-borderline narcissists who thought they were the shit and unfortunately had the intelligence to back it up.
But...in all honestly, that wasn't the worst part of that exchange; it wasn't what had set Peter off so badly.
"Implying that my hire was anything but professional is an insult to Sable's integrity," Peter said after a while. "You can say whatever you want about me, but don't you dare insinuate that she doesn't care about this work. If you've really been here from the start, then you should know better."
The silence was deafening until the end-of-day alarm went off and everyone packed up. Nobody said a word as they clocked out, and Peter trudged his way to the elevator in sullen contemplation. For the first time since he'd arrived in Symkaria, Silver wasn't there to greet him when he reached the penthouse. Peter frowned and looked around the suite. No sign of her anywhere. He hummed and went to the back room where she kept her tactical gear, finding his own new suit. He pulled the earpiece out and activated a line to hers.
The tone shifted to a click. "Yes?"
"Hey, did something come up?" Peter asked.
"Maybe. We've cleared the lower floors and anything structural. Nothing amiss. Whoever infiltrated our security isn't aiming to bring down the castle."
"Well...that's good, I guess."
"The next point of concern is the R&D labs. We're sweeping for bugs and the computers for spyware. Last thing we need is a backdoor into our military designs."
"Right. Good thinking."
"Hm."
"...hey, can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"What's Guillame's story? How did he come to work for you?"
She sighed. "René's past isn't unlike your own. He worked for the wrong people, got into some trouble, was blackballed by the industry for it."
"Define 'wrong people.'"
"Dr. Victor Von Doom."
Peter was struck silent for a full five seconds. "And he's bitching about me working for Otto?!"
Sable sighed. "I know, I know. René isn't known for his empathy, but his contribution to Doom's technology was anything but harmful—primarily improvements to Latveria's infrastructure. Despite that, the association alone was enough to sabotage his career, and so I was the only one who saw his potential. He has worked for me ever since."
"Do you think he'd ever betray that show of trust?"
"...I suppose anything is possible."
"But you doubt it."
She didn't answer immediately. "The benign nature of René's involvement with Doom may be a reflection of his scruples or it could simply have been coincidence that he was not assigned anything malicious. That has always been the one question I have never asked nor he offered to clarify. He lives for the work, and I pay him well—both monetarily and with interesting problems to solve."
"So his allegiance is to his work, not to you."
"That has been my understanding."
"What about Erina?"
"She is native Symkarian, a little younger than me. She grew up in an age when our nation was in turmoil after the death of my father—and the early years of my administration. Now that our borders are secure, she can focus on pursuing her passions without fear or interruption."
"And you're sure we have no other suspects?"
"I could be wrong, certainly, but...those two have the most immediate access and know-how to affect this sabotage."
Peter frowned. "Okay. How are you?"
He heard shuffling and a bit of shouting from the other end. Then everything got quiet, including her voice.
"Tired," she said. "This tension has me on edge, and that we've found nothing amiss is somehow even more concerning. It's the uncertainty that's the worst part."
"Yeah, I've noticed you tossing and turning a lot more lately."
Silver sighed.
Peter bit his lip. "Hey, why don't I cook us dinner tonight? Chicken curry, my treat." He looked around and headed for the suite's kitchen. "I'll uh...get it started while you're wrapping up."
She chuckled. "I...would love dinner."
Peter grinned. "Okay! It's a date."
"I'll see you soon."
"See ya."
With that, he set upon the pantry like a wolf. Silver had given him access to the porter communication system (essentially fancy royal room service) so he could request anything he wanted. It didn't take long for him to put everything together, and then it was a labor of love to get the curry to the right consistency and taste. Time passed with his eyes off the clock, and at last, it was ready. He set the table and put out a few electric candles, then on a whim asked the porter to gather up a bouquet of something native to the nearby mountains. Peter grinned when the table was finally set and checked his phone while he waited.
No messages, no calls. He texted Miles to check up on him. If he remembered right, Miles should've been visiting his mom right about now. Ten, twenty minutes passed with Peter scrolling the web. Silver still hadn't showed. Peter frowned and called her. No answer. In fact, it went straight to voicemail. He huffed and dialed a different number.
"Parker?"
"Hey, Commander Hartzik, it's Peter."
"I know."
"Right, yeah, you said my name, uh..."
"...do you need something?"
"Yeah, have you seen Si—uh, Ms. Sablinova? We were supposed to...go over a few progress reports over dinner."
"She is occupied with a security matter. I will let her know you called."
"Right. Thanks."
Peter frowned and sighed as he hung up. He stared at the pot in the center of the table, spacing out as the steam slowly vanished. Peter sighed and stood up to serve himself when the elevator doors finally opened. He stopped mid-scoop and stared as Silver stomped her way into the suite.
"Uh..."
She stormed past him into the bedroom. He ditched the serving spoon and followed. The shower came on before he caught up. Peter cleared his throat and gently knocked on the bathroom door.
"Um, Silver?"
"Not now!" she shouted.
The frustration in her voice bordered on rage.
Peter swallowed. "Okay."
He went back to the table and waited in silence. A few minutes later, she emerged with messy wet hair and a faint scowl. As soon as her icy blue eyes locked onto his confused features, she softened.
Silver sighed and strode over, sitting in his lap. She buried her face in his shoulder. Peter held her gently.
He swallowed. "Long day?"
She groaned. "The longest." A moment passed. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."
Peter frowned. "What happened?"
Silver drew back and glared at the wall. "René was...uncharacteristically testy about submitting his workstation for review. Made a very big deal about it delaying the work."
"I can't imagine that would've set you off that badly. I mean, 'disagreeable' is pretty much his whole personality."
She scoffed. "If it were that alone, no. But then he also accused me of saddling him with a...how was it he put it? A 'talentless hack too wet behind the ears to notice he's a pisspot.'"
Peter's eyebrows shot skyward.
"And he said it in public."
"...damn." Peter sighed and wiped his face. "If I'd known he'd respond like this—"
"I heard what you said from Erina. You were not wrong in checking him. I took him aside to reinforce that lesson. He did not take kindly to it."
"So how'd that get resolved?"
"I sent him home and gave him the next two days off. Erina as well."
"What'd she do?"
Silver gave him a look.
"Oh. You're using the breach as an excuse to keep them isolated while we go over the data."
She nodded. "They will be under close watch while we test their computers—and your code trap."
Peter nodded. "So when do we get started on the analysis?"
Silver groaned and waved vaguely. "Later. Dinner first. Please."
He nodded and got up. "Might need to reheat it a bit."
She sighed and hugged him. "I know. I'm sorry I took so long."
Peter chuckled as he carried the pot back to the kitchen. "I guess now I know how my girlfriends used to feel when I was out late."
She followed him. "I surmise they didn't know how you were really spending your time."
"Not most of 'em."
Peter set the stove to reheat and sat on the counter. He patted the space next to him. Silver sat and leaned into his side. They intertwined their fingers.
"I'm sorry I got you into trouble today," Peter said softly.
Silver smacked his chest. "Don't, Parker."
"I'm just saying—"
"Guillame is an arrogant prick who thinks he's always right, and sadly, he often is. Not this time. You are here because you are the man who stopped Otto Octavius. You are here for a more important purpose than 'quality control.' Let René believe whatever he will. When the truth comes out, he will understand—or he won't. Either way, his vitriol is not a reflection of you."
"...okay."
The alarm went off for the pot, and Peter carefully took it back to the table, serving Silver, then himself. They didn't talk much over dinner. Silver looked way too tired for much conversation, and Peter didn't mind. He just ate and held her hand. By the relief steadily flooding her features, it seemed homemade curry was the perfect call.
Peter turned to Silver when they finished. "So, massage? Manicure? Braiding? I do some mean braids if I say so myself. Been learning from Rio."
She looked at him curiously.
"Uh, Miles' mom. She walked me through a few things."
Silver sighed and smiled. "Honestly, I'd...rather just sleep."
Peter nodded and shrugged. "Yeah, I figured."
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "But thank you, dearheart. This was wonderful."
He kissed her gently and stroked her damp hair. "Let me at least brush your hair. Don't want it getting tangled overnight."
Silver chuckled. "All right."
She got changed while he took a quick shower, then grabbed a pearl-handled brush and joined her in bed. Her white nightie was a bit more conservative than she usually wore. He doubted she was in the mood for sexy time. At least, not yet. Peter hummed and started brushing gently.
"Y'know," he said, "I know a great way to work off stress."
She sighed. "I know. Just...not tonight."
He nodded. "Okay."
He kissed her head and kept brushing until he could feel her starting to nod off.
Peter laughed softly. "That good?"
Her only response was a tired hum. So Peter set the brush aside and tucked her in, gently kissing all over her face until she drowsily kissed him back.
"Sweet dreams, Silver," he whispered.
She smiled and closed her eyes, snuggling into his warmth. Peter hadn't noticed how wiped he was until he had a moment to breathe. He followed her not long after.
...
They woke to Silver's phone going off. She scrambled out of bed and picked up.
"Yes," she said sharply.
A moment of silence passed, and then she looked to Peter and put it on speaker with a finger to her lips.
Peter nodded and listened.
"Dr. Guillame slipped our sensor web somewhere in the small hours," said Commander Hartzik. "We picked up his trail about twenty minutes ago, at a small diner a few kilometers from the castle."
"Anything suspicious?" Silver asked.
"Not yet, but we're keeping a close watch."
"When exactly did he vanish?"
"About 0500, ma'am."
Peter checked the time. It was a little past six.
"He was gone for forty minutes?" Silver asked.
"Affirmative," said the commander.
"Establish that missing time and do not let him out of your sight."
"Yes, ma'am."
She hung up and turned to Peter. "How do you feel about starting an early day?"
He shrugged. "I'll get my stuff."
A few minutes later, they were in the lab poring over the workstations of their two prime suspects. Silver had ordered her security team to move the prototype weapons to a separate location while they acquired the computers. As soon as they had René and Erina's laptops, they went to the vault. Peter opened the code of his baited guns and started cross-referencing the inputs on the pressure sensor with their timestamps. There was a relatively consistent number of hits on each day (about 250-300)—except one.
As Peter had advised, Silver had separated the weapons team into individual leads, with only one lead researcher on site each day. Meaning Erina, René, and every other senior researcher was testing them with a small team of junior researchers. And only one had been active on the day with only three pressure triggers.
René Guillame.
Peter checked his code trap and found it had been modified—the keystroke log had activated as planned. The pattern was consistent was Guillame's typing.
Silver glared at the results when Peter presented them.
"Well," she said. "That's that, I suppose."
Peter frowned. "I'm sorry."
She sighed. "He made far too much of a fuss about surrendering his computer after the breach. He should have eagerly complied if for no other reason than to ensure a competitor did not steal his work." Silver scowled and dialed the commander. "I'll make the call." She stepped away for a bit and returned, even more animated. "Guillame almost disappeared again. He ran as soon as he saw Hartzik's agents. They barely managed to catch him."
Peter stared at the code for a while. "Something...just doesn't make sense. This saboteur's been at this for months without even a hint of their identity. Why would René make such a fuss now, right after there's been a security breach? It's too obvious."
Silver frowned and chewed her lip. "I see your point, but we cannot ignore the evidence before us."
He sighed and nodded. Peter went over the code over and over again to see if he'd missed anything. He hadn't. Something just...wasn't right. Peter sighed and closed down the computers, quickly tidying up the space as Silver made for her suit. He decided to do the same.
Just in case.
...
Silver slapped a folder on a stainless steel table between her and René. He opened it and saw printouts of every bit of forensic coding Peter had done to catch him. Peter himself was behind the one-way glass of the interrogation room. René steadily paled as he went from one page to the next.
His jaw clenched, and he looked up at Silver. "This is why you brought Parker in."
Silver smiled faintly, with an edge. "You were always quick on your feet."
René sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I understand how this looks."
"Do you?" She leaned her hands on the table. "Auto-firing weapons that kill my own soldiers. You know how that looks?"
"I do. I was not responsible for that."
"Then why are your digital fingerprints all over the code that created this function? Why did you modify the impact counter?"
"I didn't!" René took a breath and scowled. "For the last week, every team has been working independently. No one would tell me why, and when I requested their patch notes, I was denied. So when I began testing once again and the bug had vanished, I tried to figure out what had changed. The only notable difference in code I had found was that counter. But the code made no sense—why would a counter change the firing functions? So I tried removing it to see if the bug reoccurred. It didn't. Then I opened the weapon."
"You found the blocking pin."
"Yes."
Silver shrugged. "So...you're saying this is all coincidence?"
He frowned. "No."
Peter's eyes narrowed.
"As you know, hardware is my specialty. I had already been working on a fix for the auto-fire issue for weeks, but Erina insisted we could fix the code with a little more time. This blockage tab was extremely similar to what I'd had in mind—if you have my laptop, you'll find the designs there."
Peter exchanged a look with Hartzik, then opened the computer and started looking.
"So?" Silver asked. "How does this speak to your innocence?"
René's jaw tightened. "I am...aware my personality is...much like—"
"Shredded sandpaper?"
"Oui," he sighed. "Given the friction with a certain...new hire, I suspected some...intellectual dishonesty."
Silver stared at him. "You thought Peter stole your design? Why?"
"To justify his continued employment and buy time for something else."
"Meaning what exactly?"
René's jaw tightened, and he leaned in, cuffed hands clasped. "You know as well as I do that such a 'bug' is no mere coincidence. It is too persistent."
"The auto-fire issue was here long before Peter's hire."
"Yet he is an outsider whose only claim to fame in the scientific community is an internship with a terrorist."
Silver slammed her hands on the table. "And you worked for Victor Von Doom!"
René shrank back.
"Your arrogance and abrasiveness, I could tolerate for the sake of your genius. But if there is one thing I cannot stomach, it is hypocrisy." Silver glared. "I took a chance on you when no one else would—and for damn good reason. After everything we've been through together, did you really think I would bring in an outsider without thorough vetting?"
René hesitantly met her gaze. "We all have our blind spots."
Silver's icy gaze was unwavering. "Not when it comes to the security of my people. You should know better." She turned to the glass. "Commander, keep Dr. Guillame confined to a holding cell until further notice."
Silver turned for the door and grabbed the knob when René leapt to his feet.
"I did not betray you! At the diner, I was meeting a contact who had information on recent smuggling activity over the border with Latveria—possibly related to the recent breach."
She whirled toward him. "Then why did you run from Hartzik's men?"
"...there is a saboteur in our ranks. The repeated bugs and security breaches prove as much. I didn't know who to trust." His face darkened. "And then you fly in a complete unknown—a foreigner—to solve all our problems."
She paced the room, shaking her head. "So either you believe me a naïve fool, or you are arrogant enough to think you can protect Symkaria better than I can. It does not matter which. You cannot be trusted." She took a breath. "Who is this contact?"
René frowned and glanced at the glass.
"If you want my trust, you must give your own. I want a name."
His jaw tightened. "Emilio Despues. He runs a shipping company."
Silver left the room and joined Peter and Hartzik. "Commander, find this Emilio and verify Guillame's story."
The commander bowed out.
"He wasn't lying about the schematics," Peter said, turning his laptop to face her. "Mine was just a very basic blockage, but his is elegant simplicity, definitely designed to be a permanent function."
Her head shook. "It proves nothing. His primary claim to innocence is that he is a hardware specialist, yet he was the architect of m113. He has the expertise to affect the sabotage and quite possibly breach the castle's security."
"It also doesn't necessarily prove his guilt. If he's as genius and arrogant as we both think, he might be the only one on the project team that's thorough enough to check everything."
"So we're back to square one?"
Peter frowned. "Maybe not. René broke protocol and uploaded his own patch notes after his session—which in this case works in our favor. He was analyzing how the blockage activation worked and actually managed to backtrace the bugged code to a few lines within a partition of m113. I cross-referenced it against the code documented in the public works project—it's completely different from Guillame's syntax."
Silver frowned and scanned the screen. "How so?"
"Well for one, there's no external documentation that has these additions. The only time these lines appear is within the coding of the IFF."
"Is there a way to find out when that addition first appeared?"
"Not as far as I can tell, but if it was René, he must've managed to put his OCD on hold, because this code is uh...well, ugly would be putting it mildly. To be honest, I'm surprised this program doesn't crash the moment it runs."
"So either René forewent his ego long enough to install that addition—"
"Or he's not the saboteur."
Silver frowned and met his eyes. She tapped her earpiece, then put her phone on speaker. "Commander, where is Erina now?"
Hartzik answered a few moments later. "Volstoka hasn't stepped outside since yesterday."
"Keep a close eye on her and let me know if that changes."
Peter's brows furrowed as soon as she hung up. "Of the two, she's the coding specialist."
"And the only one on the team who might be clever enough to slip it past Guillame."
"But why?"
She sighed. "I don't know."
Her phone rang, and she put it on speaker.
"Commander?"
Hartzik sounded tense. "Milady, we found Despues."
"And?"
"Dead. A good number of his employees as well. It's...messy."
"Any sign of intruders?"
"No forced entry to the property...no shell casings or other ballistics. It looks like someone ran them over with a car, only this space is nowhere near large enough to accommodate one, and there is only sparse damage to the building itself."
Silver scowled. "Keep looking." She ended the call. "Someone is tying up loose ends."
Peter nodded. "If you were gonna break into your own country, what would be your target?"
"That would depend on my intent." She swiped through her phone and the pictures Hartzik sent her of the crime scene. "One thing is certain: whatever is going to happen will happen very soon." She huffed. "I need to join Hartzik, see if I can make sense of this scene."
Peter nodded. "I'll come with you. I've picked apart a crime scene or two in my day."
She smiled. "I know."
They rushed to the nearest elevator and went straight up to the penthouse.
"I have a scan of the area," she said. "It should be large enough for my jet to land."
"Ooh, I finally get to ride with you." Peter smirked and poked her side. "Instead of just riding you."
She leveled a deadpan glare at him.
"Sorry, I make jokes in tense situations. It's a coping mechanism."
"I know. It's slowly becoming endearing."
"Oh?"
"Still annoys."
"Mmkay."
...
"Jesus...you weren't kidding about the mess."
Commander Hartzik shook his head grimly.
Peter hissed out a long breath as he took in the carnage. Twisted limbs, caved-in skulls. He'd seen Rhino maulings less messy than this—with the horn. Actually, it might've been worse that it was all blunt trauma. There was something even more sickening about seeing all these twisted, deformed corpses with barely a drop of spilled blood—at least on the outside.
"We've had our forensics team working the company's database to see if there's any evidence of the smuggling Guillame spoke of," Hartzik told Silver.
"And?" she asked.
"If it was there, it isn't now."
"And nothing on the security cameras, I'm guessing."
"Wiped clean. We're trying to recover even a fragment of footage, but whoever wiped this place was very thorough."
Peter frowned and bent over one of the bodies, using smart goggles based off his suit lenses to analyze the impact points on each corpse. "Ms. Sable, I think all these injuries were made with the same weapon. By the same person."
She strode over. "How so?"
"Almost every impact hit at similar angle and force, and there are faint signs of ligature marks on most of the victims."
"They were tied down."
"Uh huh." Peter's jaw tightened. "This wasn't an attack; it was an execution. The bodies were redistributed postmortem."
"So, possible they knew their attackers and let them in only to be ambushed. René seemed to imply they were smuggling items, but if they were smuggling people..." Silver turned to Hartzik. "Commander, how many containers are run by this company per day?"
He glanced at his tablet. "Roughly three hundred, milady. It's a solid percentage of the total shipping at this port."
Her eyes darkened. "So, they could have smuggled an army and we'd have no way of knowing." She hissed sharply. "And we have no idea where they might have gone."
"Actually..." Peter frowned at his computer. "Oh!"
"What?"
"So, I had a hunch—if there's a traitor in SI's R&D division and smugglers got involved, there's every bit a chance that they're smuggling things out as well as people in. I pulled up a manifest of some of the exosuit tech you used in New York, and some of the numbers didn't add up. A few dozen pieces have gone missing over the course of weeks—not full assemblies, but enough to make them on the outside." He overlaid two sets of measurements. "These are the data pulled from initial output testing before you put the suits into production. And these are the scans from this scene."
Silver frowned grimly. "The trauma pattern is consistent."
"And you put trackers in all your tech. They might not have shipped whole units, but if the accomplices weren't thorough enough, maybe some of those trackers are still active. I'll have to run down the serial numbers."
"Do it."
Thirty seconds hadn't passed before Peter's fingers froze over the keys. His hairs stood on end and his pupils dilated to four times their normal size. Everything in him screamed for the split-second that passed at a dead crawl. No one was paying attention to him or even looking in his direction except Silver. Peter's impact webs knocked Commander Hartzik and another forensic tech to the ground as he launched himself at Silver and tackled her away from a metal shelf.
The wall behind that shelf turned into a shower of concrete shrapnel that tore it in half a second later. The space where they'd been standing was a charred, shredded mess. The body he'd been examining was even more mangled. Peter coughed and scrambled off Silver, quickly checking her over. His ears were ringing, so he didn't hear Hartzik shouting. He did feel the ground shake when four more explosions went off, each more distant than the last.
When his tinnitus finally cleared, Peter was greeted with a cacophony of screams and sirens. Half the warehouse was on fire, and Silver's left ear was bleeding. Probably a ruptured drum. Peter wouldn't be surprised if he was in the same boat.
"Silver!" he shouted, shaking her gently. "Silver!"
Her eyes were open, darting around with a glassy haze. She finally noticed him and met his gaze. "I'm fine! We need to get to my jet!"
Peter nodded and helped her up. She gave him a nod, then peeled off to bark orders at Hartzik and his men while Peter vanished up into the rafters. In seconds, his civilian clothes were ditched and his mask went on. He crawled onto the roof through the skylight as his HUD powered on. Comms. followed moments later, and Silver's voice blared in his ear.
"All units, get command-control set up for our drones and coordinate with emergency response. We need to assess any structural damage and triage evacuations immediately."
Peter took that as a standing order for him too, which made sense with his senses and strength. Until—
"Wolf Spider—you're with me. This has been planned for months. The bombs will not be the full extent of this attack."
"On my way," Peter said.
He froze—he hadn't changed his voice or anything, and there was no indication that it wasn't an open line. Then Peter glanced at the edge of his HUD and saw a small translucent notation: voice alteration active. That was Silver—always on top of things. He smirked.
Damn. No Spider-Cop this time, I guess.
His smile vanished when he saw how thick the smoke was.
Peter leapt from the warehouse as her jet took off and yanked himself onto the upper hull. He perched on all fours and gave her a thumbs-up. She nodded and gunned the engine, forcing him to flatten himself or get torn off.
"Spider, I've opened a closed channel for us," Silver said. "How is that trace coming?"
Peter frowned and glanced at his forearm, where a small pad streamed the ongoing feed. "Still parsing the serial numbers. I wrote an algorithm that should run the tracking system automatically, but there's no telling when—or if—we'll get a hit."
She cursed in Symkarian. "Then we focus on damage control for now."
"Agreed. Where's the worst spot?"
"Approaching now. That high-rise."
Peter saw it—oblique, mostly glass, mostly shattered, with flames rapidly licking up the side.
"As soon as we're in range, disengage and get in there. Focus on the upper levels, anywhere it'll be hard for anyone else to reach."
"Of course." Peter tapped his pad. "I'll patch you into the trace so we can both monitor it."
"Got it. Good luck, Spider."
Peter leapt from the jet as she did a fly-by, the engine backwash pulling some of the flames away from the building and giving him an opening. He dropped in and immediately started searching top to bottom for anyone trapped. It looked like this was an office building, because there was plenty of paper to keep the flames going. Fortunately, it looked like most of the supports were intact. Unlike the bomb at the warehouse, this one seemed more incendiary than concussive. Made to create a lot of fire and smoke, not do any real structural or bodily harm.
Which made the attack at the warehouse even more chilling; someone had been trying to kill Silver.
There were a few people trapped by heavy smoke or who got blocked in elevators when the bomb went off. Spider-strength and a little web-slinging was enough to get them to the stairwells, which were fortunately built to be fireproof. Peter would love to meet the team who designed this building; every safety feature was working as intended. Made his job a lot easier. It was a far cry from the run-down tenements and apartments he had to dive into back in New York. Half of them had faulty wiring that started the fire in the first place. Of those, half had a tendency to explode from built-up debris and flammable dust.
He had three building fires under his belt before he found the corpse of someone who died in their sleep because of a disconnected or malfunctioning smoke alarm. Another four before he just couldn't get everyone out in time. Number eight was the first time he found kids among the bodies.
Also the first time he'd seriously considered hanging up the mask—right after losing his lunch.
Peter saw no such issues here. This building was brand new, or at least it certainly seemed that way. Meaning it had been built and maintained on Silver's watch. He'd gotten a good look at the area on the flight in, and the construction of everything around it seemed no less stellar. Symkaria's infrastructure, her emphasis on research and advancement, the billions of dollars flowing in-country through Sable International...she poured heart and soul into her people, and it showed.
Peter kept sweeping the building as the fire crews finally started getting the blaze under control.
"Spider, the trace found something," Silver said.
"Why does that sound bad?"
"Because the signal is coming from inside Castle Sable. I'm swinging by the roof. Get aboard."
"Got it."
Peter climbed and zipped his way toward the high-rise's crown. He glanced over to see Silver's jet and anchored two webs to the building's spire, then slingshotted himself over it. On the way down, he stuck a web to the jet's wing and swung in from below to land next to the cockpit.
"I'm good, go!"
Silver nodded and took off toward the castle. "I tried to call security, but I'm not getting any signals from inside."
"You think the bombs were a distraction?"
"Of course they were; it was obvious enough from the start. But without any leads elsewhere, what choice did we have?"
Peter shrugged and conceded the point. When they got within half a kilometer of the castle, his spider-sense started going crazy.
"Silver—"
The towers and parapets sprouted anti-air guns and SAM turrets.
"—move!"
Silver screamed a litany of curses as she dove amid peppering flak and missiles. Chaff rockets burst out the back of the jet, intercepting most of the incoming fire and confusing their tracking. Peter glanced back to see two missiles still on them. He fired multiple impact webs, only two hitting their mark and downing one of the missiles. The other was still locked on and approaching fast.
"Silver!"
She banked hard left, barely skimming along the surface of the castle. The missile turned slightly slower and tore a hole in the walls. Silver banked back around, staying close enough that the turrets couldn't track the ship, then hovered right in front of the hole. Peter leapt inside and scanned the area for any injured. Fortunately, it seemed the bombs had sent everyone to the underground fallout shelter. That or they were being held hostage by whoever hijacked the defense systems. Possibly both.
Sable landed behind him, a compact rifle scanning the immediate area. "Commander Hartzik, what's the situation at the other bomb sites?"
A few seconds passed as they proceeded further in.
"Commander?" Silver repeated. She cursed. "Looks like we're inside the jamming radius." She clicked something. "Our closed connection is still working, at least at this distance."
"Split up?" Peter asked.
She nodded. "I'll make for the security center. Find the invaders and see if you can figure out what they're after. I'll see about disabling that jammer and getting us backup."
He nodded. "Be careful."
She smiled. "You too, Spider."
They sprinted in opposite directions, Spidey opening the nearest elevator shaft and leaping down. He'd check the fallout shelter first. Castle Sable was massive, and there was no point searching aimlessly. He was grateful Sable had had the prescience to upload 3D schematics of the castle when they made the suit. It made working his way to the shelter's entrance fairly smooth. Peter was unsurprised to find the reinforced door surrounded by masked men with guns. He was a bit surprised to find that they were trying to break in instead of just stand guard.
Peter glanced around the corner, trying to decide on his approach. There was one long, narrow hallway leading to the door, only one way in or out. It was all brick and masonry, with low ceilings and bright lighting. He guessed it was designed to make defending it easier if someone managed to break through the gate. At the moment, it was making closing distance a pain in the ass. Then he remembered the nifty prototype Sable had installed in his suit and grinned.
Moments later, two of the invading soldiers were scanning the hallway and muttering to each other. One was cut off mid-sentence when his mouth was webbed shut and he was yanked into the ceiling. The other three swiveled toward their entrapped comrade only for the rearmost to be laid out and slammed into the ground. The last two spun quickly, but their weapons stopped halfway, almost pointing at each other. Try as they might, they couldn't move an inch. The reason became clear as the seemingly empty air shimmered and resolved into a masked figure in black and white with nightmarish red eyes.
He uttered not a word as he ripped the rifles from their grasp and webbed their hands to their holsters when they went for sidearms. Simultaneous punches to both their heads laid them out. He webbed them to the floor to keep them secure. The Wolf Spider strode up to the door and tapped the keypad a few times before frowning and hitting a button labeled "intercom."
"Ahem...hello?" he asked in his altered voice.
An accented female voice answered him. "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"
Peter frowned in confusion until he looked up and saw the camera. He gave it a little wave. "Um, hi. Wolf Spider. I'm new."
He cringed the moment the words left his mouth. Once again, Peter was infinitely grateful for the mask.
"And...are you..."
"With Sable? Yes. We're trying to retake the castle. Who are you?"
"...call me Yelena."
"How many of you are in there?"
"What does it matter?"
"I need to know if they've taken hostages."
"More than likely. Most of the security staff stayed out there, along with some senior researchers. There are protocols to lock down more sensitive projects; I don't know if they succeeded."
"Are you secure in there?"
"For now. Whoever is feeding them information doesn't know our security protocols. At least, not the most critical ones."
"Good. I'll see what I can do for the others. Any idea where they might've been taken?"
"More than likely the research wing. As I said, sensitive projects. Likely enough targets for invaders."
"Got it. Stay put. If Sable or I aren't in touch soon, Commander Hartzik will come to give you the all-clear."
"Understood. Good hunting, Wolf."
Peter nodded and sprinted back down the hallway, making his way back up the elevator shaft. Using the schematics, he snuck into the research wing through the vents and dropped in once he verified no one was watching. When he landed, Peter was struck by the eerie silence. The place was completely empty. Aside from scattered papers and overturned desks and equipment, there was no sign anyone had even come through here.
He tapped his earpiece. "Silver, do you read?"
Her whisper answered moments later. "Make it quick. I'm close."
"It sounds like most of the castle staff made it inside the shelter. They're holed up tight, according to someone named Yelena."
Her tone sounded a bit lighter. "Good. And the others?"
"I don't know. Yelena thought they might be in the research wing, but...nobody's here. Any ideas?"
The line was dead silent.
"Silver?"
"Dodging patrol." More silence, then dread entered her voice. "Spider, bring up the suit's command console and enter STK-120."
He did, and a new section of the underground schematics was unveiled. "Silver, what—"
"No time. Get there."
Peter frowned and started running.
...
It didn't take long to reach the annex. Thanks to Silver's access code, the Wolf Spider suit automatically activated a security door built into a fake wall as soon as he was close. Peter frowned. What else had she put in that he didn't know about? He dashed inside as soon as the door opened. The path beyond was a cold, sterile maze of concrete and fluorescent lights. He pulled up the schematics and traced his way to a hub area. The moment he heard voices, he leapt to the ceiling and crawled toward the center of the chamber.
Then he looked down and his blood went cold.
A dozen senior researchers he recognized were dismantling and packing Sable tech into crates with various markings. If he had to guess, they were all labeled for international shipping of "items" that would roughly line up with the weight of the stolen tech. Then he noticed none of the researchers were being held at gunpoint. In fact, the masked soldiers were mostly arrayed around the perimeter, more guarding than threatening.
A quick look with his suit's scanner tracked the researchers' heart rates and...the average was 65 bpm. They were all perfectly calm. Almost like—
Peter's jaw tightened as he tapped his earpiece. "Silver—Erina's here. It's a heist, and I think...I think some of the other senior staff are in on it. Not just her."
"...how many?"
"At least a dozen here in the hub room. Can't tell what they're packing up, but it can't be good." He frowned. "Silver, what's really down here?"
"Later, Spider. Stop them. They cannot be allowed to leave with those crates."
"...we are gonna have a long talk after this."
"I'm almost to the security center." She grunted. "I'll send Hartzik your way as soon as the defenses are down."
He clicked the line off and immediately set to work at the edge of the perimeter. One by one, he picked off isolated gunmen until—
"So this is what she brought back from the States."
His head snapped to the side as he webbed up another soldier. Erina stood in some kind of techsuit, flanked on either side by gunmen who had weapons trained on him.
Erina's head cocked. "New toys, new ideas for a metahuman flunky. Anything to avoid taking responsibility for her own kingdom."
Peter's head cocked as he sized up the rest of the room. The researchers didn't seem armed, but there were still at least ten other gunmen active. Plus all that unknown tech...
"What do you mean?" Peter asked.
Erina sneered. "Foreigner. Figures. She seems to be obsessed with all things foreign these days. Time was, she understood that Symkaria comes first. Then, she vanishes for months on end, year after year, playing soldier instead of looking after her people. Meanwhile, the jackals circle all around us, waiting to pounce and devour what we've built."
Peter arched an eyebrow. "You mean kinda like what you're doing now?"
She snarled. "Sable had lost touch with the people she claims to serve. She does not deserve her throne."
"And you do?"
Erina chuckled. "No. I have no aim to lead. I simply want to leave a sinking ship with what's owed."
"And all the people you put in danger with those bombs? Your people?"
Her jaw tightened. "Merely a taste of the consequences of Sable's neglect. If not us, it would be the Latverians."
Peter glanced around Erina, seeing the soldiers surrounding him.
That's it, little closer...
"She's forgotten her childhood, forgotten what her father fought for as she weaned. Takes our security for granted."
Peter splayed his arms outward. "If that were true, I doubt she would've made all this." He smirked. "Or me."
With that, he fired two electrified webs into tandem power conduits, and half the lights in the room went out. Peter leapt straight up as gunfire rang out and the other scientists scattered like rats. He hung from the ceiling for a moment, then launched himself toward Erina. Both her bodyguards were laid out at once when he wrapped arms and legs around their shoulders and slammed them into the ground. He webbed the barrels of two more rifles before they swung toward him and yanked them away, twirling the weapons like tandem flails.
Three more soldiers were pelted with metal before the rest finally opened fire. Peter twirled and tossed the guns into the overhead light fixtures as bullets whizzed past him. He leapt up and toward the crowd, sprinting between them and forcing them to stop shooting or risk crossfire. As he ran past, he clocked them in the head one by one, foregoing his usual hit and run style for straight knockouts.
The moment Peter built the new suit and realized he'd be adopting a new identity, he knew he had to operate differently or risk someone putting the pieces together. So for the past week, he'd developed a whole new set of tactics to set the Wolf Spider apart based on one simple question: what kind of person would Silver hire to fill that role?
A soldier.
No quips, no wasted movement. Just calculated precision.
One by one, every gunman fell to precise blows meant to disable. He leapt skyward and yanked all of them into a massive ball he turned into a cocoon. Then his spider-sense went off, and he dove as a chunk of metal flew past. The echo when it slammed into the far wall was deafening. He looked up to see a massive crater, then turned to Erina when the object flew back to her. She held a fully metallic sledgehammer with a spiked tip that hummed and vibrated faintly. He didn't know for sure, but that suit seemed to channel powerful electromagnetic currents.
Peter's jaw clenched. "You killed those people in the warehouse."
She shrugged. "They got greedy. Tried to blackmail us into giving a larger cut."
He fired more electric webs at her, but she just held a hand up and stopped them midair. They fizzled out and fell to the floor. Then she snarled and threw the hammer again. Wolf Spider cartwheeled away and fired a web bomb off to her left. Erina waved her offhand and turned the lid of a nearby crate into a large bowl she laid over the bomb right before it blew, completely containing its webbing. Wolf had already closed the distance and lunged for the hammer.
She slammed the pommel into the ground as he grabbed the haft, sending vibrations reverberating through the ground and his body. It jolted him a bit, but he held fast. Still, no matter how he pulled, he couldn't disarm her. This close, he was able to get a better look at her suit and started scanning it for vulnerabilities. Erina's gloved hand palmed his face, and he yelled as a mass of feedback sent deafening static through his earpiece and completely blinded him.
Then she yanked the hammer free and swept out his legs. His spider-sense flared, and he barrel-rolled away right as she brought the hammer down. The concussive backwash of the impact sent him flying. He snapped a web out to the side and yanked, barely avoiding another hammer throw. As soon as Peter landed, he slapped the side of his mask, uselessly trying to jostle his lenses back to function.
Tactile EMP...
"You used the smugglers to get these mercenaries into the country through Latveria," Wolf Spider said. He flipped to the side, avoiding another shard of metal thrown his way. "Did Doom give you that suit? 'Cause there's no way you made it yourself."
"Guillame isn't the only genius in this fucking country!" she roared.
Peter couldn't see a thing, and he couldn't risk removing his mask, even in this darkness. So he closed his eyes and let his instincts take over as she charged him hammer-first.
"All this time, stuck as second fiddle to that man-child! Always playing mediator for his temper tantrums!"
The sentiment was so relatable, Peter almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, he kicked a hammer strike away before it gained momentum, then followed with a twist-kick to her diaphragm with his other leg. He webbed her shoulders and pulled her into a knee that knocked her off the ground, then leapt skyward and used those webs to pendulum her straight into the ground. He came down fist-first to finish it right as his spider-sense went nuts. A split-second later, he yelled in pain as the hammer's spiked tip pierced his shoulder. Erina tossed him aside and sluggishly climbed to her feet.
Peter clutched his shoulder and shook his head. The EMP had finally worn off, and he could see again right as he pushed himself upright. His eyes widened. He immediately rolled away when she swung at him again. More shards of metal hovered all around Erina, then flew at him like a torrent of flechettes. He leapt straight up to the ceiling and started running when they followed him like a horde of angry bees.
He wasn't fast enough to outrun them forever, but he didn't have to. Wolf Spider leapt from the ceiling and dropped like a rock, then anchored a web to the ceiling and swung straight past Erina. She couldn't keep the torrent up without shredding herself, and by the time she'd stopped their momentum, Peter already had a bead on the hammer. He webbed the head and pommel and pulled with everything he had.
Erina let go and used his pull to accelerate it toward him.
Peter smirked.
Right before the hammer slammed him dead-on, he bent over backwards like a pretzel and let it slam into the wall behind him. Then he emptied his web shooters into it and pinned it to the wall. He sprinted toward Erina before she could wrench it free or do any more magnetic tricks. She used the suit's electromagnetic servos to augment her strength and tear up the floor to kick it his way. He just twist-flipped over the chunk of concrete and webbed her eyes. He'd finally found a vulnerability in her suit: a series of downscaled dynamos supplying power.
So he started ripping them off one by one until she could barely move under the suit's weight. Then he put two fingers against her chest and gently pushed her over. Volstoka toppled like a jenga tower—and stayed down this time.
Peter heaved for breath and sank to one knee. He hadn't gotten a workout like this in weeks. Not since...
Not since Otto. Since the night May died. Since the night he found a kindred spirit in Symkaria's stubborn silver guardian.
Peter didn't take any chances and reloaded his web shooters, then covered Erina until she couldn't move at all.
He tapped his earpiece. "Sable, I have the main suspects in custody, including Erina."
She took a bit to respond and sounded a little out of breath. "Understood. I'm on my way. Finally finished with the jammer. Commander Hartzik should be arriving any minute to take them into custody. I'm on my way."
"Got it." Peter sucked in air. "Nice work."
"You too, Spider."
...
When Silver finally arrived, it was well after Hartzik and his security forces had the perpetrators in custody. She looked like she'd spent an hour crawling through ducts that hadn't been cleaned in months. Or been shot at a lot at point-blank range. Peter couldn't help the jump his heart made when he saw the side of her face covered in blood. It took a few seconds to realize it wasn't hers. He was perched on one of the crates, just watching the bustle of Hartzik's men and making sure the prisoners didn't try anything.
Silver stomped straight to Erina. "Twenty-seven dead, eighty injured...likely more of both to come once the smoke clears. And that does not account for the smugglers you murdered at the docks." Her arms crossed. "And for what?"
Erina didn't answer for a while. "You spent...a year...on the other side of the world. Elbows deep in foreign concerns while your people sat here, neglected, with vultures on every side. Do you know what Transia attempted in the winter, when you were busy handling that plague in New York?"
Sable scowled. "An interdiction of foreign nationals that would have created an international incident and left us vulnerable to sanctions. I directed the operation that killed the kidnappers." She tipped her head up. "My lack of physical presence in no way means I am absent from the defense of my people. And even if I were, Symkaria cannot be reliant on any one person to maintain its prosperity." She crouched to put them face to face. "I laid a framework, Erina. Because of what I've built, Symkaria remained strong even in my absence, and you—" she poked Erina's chest, "—could pursue your ventures without a care."
Silver waved to one of the security personnel, who handed her a tablet. She swiped across it, bringing up a slideshow of photos.
"And this is how you thank me?" Silver said. "Look at them."
Erina glared at the ground.
Silver grabbed her hair. "Look at them!"
Trembling faintly, she did.
Peter's jaw tightened when he glanced and saw the feed.
Bodies of the dead and injured, some from fire, some from smoke inhalation, others from being crushed. Apparently not all the buildings hit by explosions were new and built with the same safety features. Some had partially caved under the extreme heat. His chest hurt.
"Twenty-seven dead," Silver reiterated coldly. Her head shook. "There is no imagined slight that justifies what you've done to your own people. Only excuses." She closed the tablet down. "You will burn for this, Erina. You and your collaborators will face the court and you will burn."
Sable jerked her head at Hartzik, and he had them dragged away in chains. It wasn't until Silver stumbled over to Peter that he noticed she was limping. He was on his feet immediately.
"Sable—you're hurt," he said softly.
She smiled faintly and shook her head. "Just a sprain. The new stealth system was well worth the investment."
Peter chuckled. "Yeah, I can second that."
They stared at each other for a while. Then Peter remembered where they were and frowned behind his mask.
"Silver, what is this place? What were they after?"
She frowned and waved him to a corner where they could talk privately.
"It's a repository for decommissioned or scrapped projects. Mostly too unstable or dangerous to ever be used, but too difficult to dispose of without risking a security breach. For reasons that should be obvious, only the highest echelons of my security forces know of its existence."
"Then how did Erina know? She's upper echelon, but for research, not security."
Silver sighed hard. "She was not always just a scientist. A few years ago, Erina was the director of all defense research and development." She waved at the crates. "She designed most of this."
"What is it?"
She waved to the craters all around the room. "You've tasted her handiwork personally. Fancy a guess?"
"Electromagnetic weapons tech."
"Among other things. Erina grew up in an era of instability, when Symkaria was under constant threat from our neighbors. She believed the only way to secure lasting regional stability was through sheer force of arms—an array of long-range railguns that could annihilate any enemy target in a few well-placed shots." Silver scowled. "When she nearly convinced my military advisors to make a live demonstration as a show of force, I knew I'd given her too much power. I relegated her to the labs after that and had Hartzik keep a close eye on her for a while. That was two years ago. I thought she'd come to her senses by now." She looked down at the tablet. "I was wrong."
Peter frowned and squeezed her shoulder. "The worst thing about betrayal...it never comes from an enemy."
Silver didn't respond, just nodded faintly. He could see the energy leech from her body as her shoulders slumped. Peter just barely kept himself from hugging her. Much as he wanted to, he was in a room full of soldiers who didn't need to know his identity—and he doubted it'd take them long to figure it out if he went all PDA.
Hartzik rushed over a few minutes later looking none too happy. "Milady, we have a problem."
Sable frowned.
"We just finished a preliminary inventory. Several crates are missing."
Peter's blood went cold.
"They already smuggled some out?" Silver breathed.
"And because they hijacked our security, we have no way of knowing how far they've gotten."
"Are any of the trackers still working?"
"We're trying. So far, nothing." He took her tablet and patched her into a different feed. "We have identified some of the mercenaries who assisted Volstoka as contractors for the Maggia family."
Peter and Sable exchanged a glance.
"Thank you, Commander. Keep looking."
He nodded and rushed off.
Silver's jaw tightened as she smiled nastily. "And she presumes to accuse me of foreign entanglement? Hypocritical bitch."
Peter's chest tightened. "Silver, with Fisk and the Demons gone, there's a massive power vacuum back home. If those weapons make it to New York—"
She gripped his arm. "We'll find them. I won't let this treachery scorch your home too."
He swallowed hard, staring into her eyes as his own pricked. God, he wanted to kiss her. Or at least hug her.
As if reading his mind, Silver smiled faintly. "I know. Later, dearheart. Let's finish here."
Peter sighed and nodded as they got back to work.
...
All told, of the thirty or so crates of decommissioned tech in the bunker, Erina and her collaborators had managed to abscond with ten before Wolf Spider stopped them. Enough to equip a small army with Erina's electromagnetic exosuits and weapons. And that was if the Maggia didn't have the resources or know-how to reverse-engineer it and make more. Hartzik hadn't managed to activate any of the trackers on the missing tech. Evidently, Erina had learned from past mistakes.
Or she'd left the first trackers active on purpose to lure Silver into an ambush at Castle Sable. Considering how much trouble she'd given Peter, he couldn't rule out the possibility.
Now he was back in Sable's penthouse suite, sitting on her bed. He was still in the Wolf Spider suit sans mask, nervously tapping his foot on the ground. He stopped for a moment and texted Miles.
[Hey buddy! How's it going over there?]
A few minutes passed before a reply. [Not bad, Pete. Pretty quiet, actually. You?]
Peter cringed hard. [So, this might come across as superstition but uh...any first responder will tell you to never say the "Q" word. Because the moment you do...]
[But I'm not—oooohhhh...]
[Yeah]
[Should I be worried?]
Peter frowned. [Not yet. Got a bit of a situation over here. Hopefully won't be any blowback, but...there could be. Just keep an eye out for the next couple days until I get back. Can you stay with your mom?]
[I can probably swing it. ;)]
Peter grinned and rolled his eyes. [Now you're getting it. :P] He heard the elevator ding. [Hey I gotta get back to it. Talk later]
[Sure thing, Pete. Cya soon]
Peter tossed his phone and got up right as Silver walked in. The look on her face was none too reassuring.
"What happened?" he asked.
She chewed her lip for a moment. "Erina repurposed m113 and used it to decrypt the biometric locks on a few of our cargo jets leaving port today. By the time we figured out which one had been stolen, it was well in international airspace. Heading west." She frowned. "We can't force it down without risking a diplomatic incident, and good luck ordering it back to port. Best we can do is alert Interpol and whoever's at their destination—and hope they'll cooperate with us." Silver sighed. "I'm sorry."
Peter fell back into his seat. "Yeah." He slumped over. "We knew this was a possibility. Hell, a probability."
"Still—"
"Yeah. Really wish I had a little more time between crises."
Silver sat next to him, hands folded in her lap. "I'm sorry, Peter. If I'd known—"
"But you didn't. That's why you brought me in on this." He smiled. "And you were right to."
She nodded. "If you hadn't been here, we might never have discovered the traitor until it was too late. And the fires..."
He held her hand. "We saved a lot of lives today, Silver. And whatever they have planned for those weapons, we'll stop them. Right?"
Silver arched an eyebrow. "Given my company's eh...reputation in New York after the plague, I am not so certain I will be welcomed by law enforcement. At least in any official capacity."
Peter grinned. "You'll be with Spider-Cop. What's the worst that could happen?"
She groaned and rolled her eyes.
"What?" He leaned in and smiled wider. "Got a problem with that?"
She side-eyed him hard. "As long as you don't do the voice."
"You heard about that?"
"Mhm."
"...I make no promises." He pecked her cheek.
Silver made a noise of disgust and palmed his face, pushing him away.
Peter laughed and wrapped his arms around her. She rubbed his arm with her thumb and leaned into him. They sat there in silence for a while.
"So, when do we leave?" he asked.
"Tomorrow, I think. Early morning."
"Not sooner?"
"A flight to New York from here takes at least a day on a cargo plane like that. My personal jet can make that trip in half the time. And we need rest."
Peter nodded. "Got it. Shower?"
"Better." She got up and held out her hands.
He took them and let her pull him up. Silver led him to the bathroom, where he finally remembered a very nice hot tub. As soon as she turned it on, Silver started unzipping her suit. Peter stared for a solid five seconds as she peeled it away, leaving her in pants and a white sports bra. She stared back at him, arched an eyebrow, and smacked his butt.
"Why are you still dressed?"
He cleared his throat and followed suit. One by one, her clothes landed in a pile on the floor. He frowned when he saw the bloodstains. Peter hadn't asked what she'd done to disable the jammer, but the state of her clothes was a visceral reminder that he was dating a trained killer. A gnawing guilt festered in his gut when he realized that hadn't even fazed him. He closed his eyes and took a breath.
No. Not a killer—a soldier protecting her people.
He sidled up behind Silver and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck as he caressed her belly.
"Peter?"
The day kept replaying in his head, from present to beginning, all the way to the first moment his spider-sense went off in that warehouse and she was almost—
His shoulders shook as he took a shaky breath.
Silver held his arms and looked over her shoulder. "Peter?"
He didn't respond for a while, just held her. "You almost...she almost..."
She waited patiently.
His arms tightened around her, enough that he could feel her rib cage. Peter forced himself to relax and let go. He hurriedly wiped his eyes and finished undressing, facing away from her.
"Hey."
He grunted, struggling with the unfamiliar fit of this suit.
Silver poked his shoulder. "Hey."
He blinked and looked at her.
She smiled. "I'm okay. You made sure of that."
Peter nodded blankly and kept yanking until his boots finally came loose.
She gently stroked his back with one hand while the other took his hand and tugged him toward the tub. When he turned around, she was staring right at him. He didn't look away from those icy blues until he took the first step into the water.
And promptly yelped because it was way too hot.
Silver cackled wildly, pressing her face into his chest. Peter laughed with her when the initial shock faded, wrapping his arms around her. The tightness in his chest was matched only by the warmth of holding her.
"Silver, are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm sure, Peter. I had one of my medics look me over earlier." She drew back enough for him to see her grin. "Though you're certainly welcome to give me a closer inspection."
He bit his lip and cleared his throat. "Maybe in a bit. The water uh..."
She chuckled. "Mhm. Take your time, dearheart."
Peter slowly acclimated to the heat and sank in until he could finally sit comfortably. Silver pressed herself into his side and laid her head on his chest. Peter gently pet her head. She hummed contentedly and closed her eyes.
"I love listening to your heartbeat."
He smiled and stroked her back in circles.
Silver trailed her fingers over his chest, over his abs, his side, just barely touching. It made his skin tingle. Then her petting got a bit heavier until it escalated to full groping. Though she was still mostly gentle about it, he could almost feel a hint of desperation in her grip. Peter looked down to see her staring back at him. There was a hint of his own fear in her eyes. He tugged her up into his lap and kissed her. She tasted like smoke with a hint of blood.
Silver coughed and pulled away, grunting. It looked like she was poking around her mouth with her tongue.
"Problem?" he asked softly.
"Forgot—one of them got a lucky shot in. Think it cut my cheek."
"Ah."
Peter stroked her cheek and cupped her face. He kissed her nose and smiled.
Silver stared at him and bit her lip. "You...are very cute."
He laughed. She grabbed his face and kissed him hard. Her fingers tangled in his hair. Peter was still learning, but his gentle approach had a tendency to awaken her aggressive instincts. He grabbed her hips and pulled her into his lap. She clawed at his back. He flinched and grunted when she scratched at one of his bruises.
"Sorry," she gasped.
"S'fine," he panted, immediately pulling her back in.
His hands trailed up her sides, feeling little goosebumps all over her skin. Peter's whole body flushed with heat, and it wasn't from the water. He needed—
Peter moaned into her mouth when she gyrated her hips and ground her pussy against his length under the water.
"Silver," he sighed.
Her only answer was a feral, needy noise in the back of her throat as she stuck her tongue down his. Peter lifted her hips and positioned himself with fingers trembling with excitement. He felt her body tense, then melt as he sank into her. Her face was buried in his neck as she held onto him with her fingers tangled in his hair and her tits pressed against his chest. They didn't move except to kiss some more, just sitting there with his member plunged to the hilt. He nibbled on her lip. She traced the scars on his back with her fingertips.
Silver bucked her hips, drawing a moan out of him. Peter squirmed and tried to buck up into her, but she just groaned and pressed down on his shoulders. So he sat there and waited for her to move between nibbles and sucks on her neck. It didn't take long. A few seconds of Peter leaving hickeys, and Silver was bouncing on his cock and splashing water everywhere. She moaned loudly, never once letting go of him or letting him get any further away. She rubbed her nipples on his, making him twitch and pant. Peter grabbed her hair and tilted her head to the other side, then bit down on her shoulder.
Silver gasped and yelped, clutching his hair tightly as he marked her. He slowly released his bite and lapped at her red skin. She whimpered.
"Peter," she gasped.
He grabbed her ass and bounced her in his lap even harder. She cried out and pressed her forehead to his, panting breathlessly every time he bottomed out inside her.
"P-Peter..."
God, he loved his name on her tongue.
Peter lifted her off his dick and planted her ass-first on the rim of the tub. She gasped when he buried his face between her legs. Silver started screaming when he viciously fingered her in tandem. Her thighs wrapped around his head and did their best to crush his head—a woefully inadequate attempt. Peter held her on his tongue as she came hard, his hands coming up to support her back and keep her from falling out of the tub when she fell limp.
Before she could even try to catch her breath, he'd pulled her back into the water and flipped her face-down so her tits were pressed against the rim. Then he rammed right back into her. Silver held onto the rim so tight her knuckles started going white. Peter plowed away, squeezing her ass in between thrusts. He gave her a good smack. Her response couldn't be heard amid all the splashing and breathless pants. Peter leaned in and pressed his chest to her back, nibbling on her earlobe.
Silver mewled and blindly groped over her shoulder with one hand. He held it and kissed her neck, grinding his cock inside her. There were no words. There was no need for them. Peter reached around with his other hand and groped her tits. Silver reached down and moaned as she started rubbing her clit.
Peter bucked harder, splashing some water onto the tile floor. He could feel himself getting close. He groaned and lifted her up, pulling her off his dick—much to her vocal protest. She didn't have long to complain. Peter dropped her back onto him as he stood up, straight-up carrying her. He held her in place with one hand while another threw an extra large towel down on the tiles. Before she could even wonder what he was up to, Peter carried her out of the bath and laid her down, pulling her legs up around him. Then he plowed away and fucked her right on the floor.
Silver groped his chest for all of two seconds before he pinned her hands to the ground, intertwining their fingers. She cried out and stared up at him desperately. He felt the same, but damn it the tiles were too hard for this, even with the towel, and they had a mission tomorrow. So he picked her up with the towel and carried her to her bed. She was hyperventilating at this point, so tense and close as she clawed at his chest.
Peter moaned and gave it everything he had, holding her hips and pulling her into him. Silver thrashed and groped at everything she could touch. He could feel her thighs twitching. So he kissed her and plunged in deep, grinding his dick in circles. His breath left him when his pleasure spiked suddenly as she tightened around him. Peter reached down and furiously rubbed her clit as his cock twitched and spewed days' worth of tension and stress into his lover.
He felt her squeal into his mouth as she felt him cum. She was still too tense to have reached her own finish. So he switched positions and laid back, staring up at her trembling body and messy wet hair. He was coming down from his climax, but still plenty hard enough for her to ride him. Which she did with a feverish desperation. Peter moaned and squeezed her tits, overly sensitive but determined to get her off.
Silver held his hands, pulling them in and making him squeeze her more. He pinched her nipples and tugged a bit, stretching them away from her chest. She froze and stared down at him, mouth hanging open. He held her gaze for a good five seconds as her whole body trembled. Then he let go, and her eyes rolled back as she collapsed into his arms. Silver only had energy to bounce on his lap, and he bounced right back, nibbling on her earlobe.
"Do it, Silver," he whispered. "I wanna feel it."
Tremors rippled through her body as her fingers tightened in his hair. A load, guttural moan followed a moment later as she finally came. From what he felt trickling down his thighs, Peter was very glad he brought the towel. Though he doubted she'd care about making a mess right now.
He gently rocked his hips as she slowly came down. Moments later, she melted onto him, a sweaty, jittery mess. But so, so soft and relaxed. Peter pet her hair, gradually fixing it with his fingers as he murmured to her.
"Beautiful...you're so beautiful, Silver."
He could still feel her spasming around him.
"I'll keep you safe," he whispered, kissing her temple. "I'll take care of you."
Her arms tightened around him, and he felt her tremble with something other than aftershocks. She sobbed faintly. He tensed up. There was no more sound for a few seconds. He started thinking he'd imagined it. Then there was another, and she started shaking even harder. For a moment, her body was taut like a tightrope, as if she were using all her strength to hold back.
Peter held her tighter.
Immediately, she dissolved into incoherent weeping, clinging to him hard enough he knew her fingers would leave marks. Peter didn't care. He just held her and kissed her neck over and over again. Long minutes passed with her shaking and sobbing in his arms. It was a while before she started to calm. When she did, Silver slowly pulled away, still trembling. Her face was a red mess, and even the faint eyeliner she put on was streaking.
Peter smiled and wiped a fresh tear away with his thumb. "You okay?"
Silver bit her lip, visibly restraining more tears. Her voice was so soft, he could barely hear.
"All this time...I've been alone."
Peter frowned, listening patiently.
"No one I can lean on, no one to help me. I have my company, my advisors, but...at the end of the day, when the final decisions are made...I'm all I have." Silver sniffled and wiped her nose. "I've...I'm..." Her lips pursed. Her eyes stared into his, dancing from one to the other. "I cannot express how grateful I am for you, Peter."
The sheer vulnerability in her eyes made his chest so warm it hurt. He pressed his forehead to hers and held her hand.
"I'm yours, remember?" he reminded softly. "I stand by that."
She bit her lip. "No second thoughts?"
Peter blinked at the question, reminded of the bloody clothes sitting in the bathroom, of the reality of who she was.
Without hesitation, he smiled and said, "None."
Then kissed her again to seal it.
- During the investigation, Silver expressed her concern about Rene's sudden irritability with the drone-based system, hinting at a potential secret he might be hiding.
- Despite Rene's accusations of Peter being a "glorified boy-toy" with no valuable accomplishments, Silver defended his hire and his role in the project, stating that she saw great potential in him.
- As Peter and Silver analyzed the data, they discussed the mysterious behavior and motives of both Rene and Erina, two main suspects in the sabotage case, with Peter expressing his doubts about Rene's allegiance to Silver's company.
