[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XV1PIyT.jpg?2[/img][/center]

A light breeze blows through the abandoned factory complex, kicking up a light cloud of dust. I watch as the dust rolls down the main thoroughfare like the ghost of the throngs of workers who once made their livings here. The quiet is intoxicating. There's not many places in the city where you can find a place that lacks the constant noise of traffic, construction, and the general hustle and bustle of its citizens.

This is the best possible location for the showdown with the Enforcers. No guard on duty at all, no residences anywhere in a ten block radius, and I made sure DeWolff cleared any night watchmen out of the buildings around the complex, ensuring the only people in the line of fire tonight will be the Enforcers, the cops, and me. We all know the score. We all know what we signed up for, and the Enforcers lose any leverage they have on me.

Somewhere in one of the derelict buildings around me, a can rattles through the rubble. The metallic sounds of tin on plaster and concrete echo through the empty streets and corridors of the once mighty center of manufacturing and shipping. I stand, leaning against the inside of a window that has long ago crumbled from lack of maintenance. Below me, a dirty street coated in the litter and dead, wet leaves typical of a place in New York not cleaned for years. Bridging the gap of the two warehouses is an old truck-loading crane. A rusted-out truck, leaning on a bare front left rim, sits like a fallen dinosaur waiting for a coating of dust to turn it into a fossil.

At the end of the street are the docks of the old factory. The wooden planks of the docks have long begun to rot, and gaps where they have fallen into the river below show like the gaps in an old man's smile. Discarded crates and equipment are strewn about, making it look like the dockworkers merely disappeared in a flash one fateful day, like something out of a science fiction movie.

That makes the brand new boat at the end of the dock, with its high end paint job and finishes all the more out of place. A few high-end trucks also sit at the end of the street, recreating the scene I found on July 4th. The yacht's interior lights are on, and its curtains are drawn. Inside, Lieutenant DeWolff and a few other officers lay in wait. I'm sure there are more cops in the area for backup, more than likely in order to arrest me when this is all over. At least, they're going to try. That much is sure.

I'd be lying if I wasn't slightly nervous about the whole thing. One of the officers here tonight could be my father. Hell, considering DeWolff is on his squad, it's likely. The fact that I could be coming face-to-face with him in costume for the first time has me on edge. The Enforcers I can deal with. That's all on me. But if I have to run away from my dad, if I have to look him in the eyes and run from him, it's not going to make me feel good.

[color=0054a6]"How you doing?"[/color] Pete's voice tentatively asks. He knows how I'm feeling. I paced around his room the entire time we were together last night, spilling my guts out to him. I felt bad about wasting our time, but I have to admit it made me feel better. Sometimes all you need is someone to listen to your bullshit to give it less power over you.

[color=ec008c][b]"Okay,"[/b][/color] I take a deep breath. [color=ec008c][b]"At this point I just want it to get started."[/b][/color]

[color=0054a6]"You set up the stuff I made for you?"[/color] he asks, and I can detect the excitement in his voice. Whenever he has a new gadget for me, he always gets excited. It's cute, and I certainly don't mind the help. I wouldn't be half the Spider-Woman I am without them. I won't tell Peter that, of course. But he knows it.

[color=ec008c][b]"Yea, they're all set up. Well, except a few I kept on me just in case."[/b][/color]

[color=0054a6]"Well I hope they work as well as I think they will,"[/color] he muses. [color=0054a6]"They'll definitely be enough to take down the martial artist. Don't know about the big guy."[/color]

[color=ec008c][b]"Well, they can't hurt,"[/b][/color] I reassure my boyfriend. [color=ec008c][b]"I'm gonna go radio dark now."[/b][/color]

[color=0054a6]"Okay. Good luck...and be careful."[/color]

[color=ec008c][b]"I will be,"[/b][/color] I say with care. [color=ec008c][b]"I'll call when it's done. Have a bad movie ready for me later. I'm probably going to need it."[/b][/color]

[color=0054a6]"Oh, 'Cry Wilderness' has your name on it, baby,"[/color] he chuckles and hangs up.
 
The moments before the Silk Cartel show up drag on for an eternity, seemingly. Part of me worries they won't show up, that the best idea I could come up with will fail, and the Enforcers will continue running across the city unchecked. I'm not Superman or Wonder Woman. I can't swoop in invincibly and take any criminal I want without an issue. I'm vulnerable, and the people around me are as well. If I can't learn how to stop these kind of people in my own means, I'm not the hero I want to be. Tonight means more than just taking the Enforcers off the street. Tonight  is proof that Spider-Woman can be what I want her to be.

From below, the crunch of footsteps on broken glass and broken concrete filters up to me. I climb out of the window and slink up to the roof. Out of the building I was hiding in emerge all four of the Enforcers, creeping silently down the street. On each side of the low, long warehouses that line the main stretch of the factory creep groups of the cartel's commandos, just as I assumed. The Enforcers were never going to come alone, not when this could be a place I could show up.

Luckily, from the way they're approaching the cars, they have no idea they're walking straight into a trap.

I leap silently form the window I was perched in, landing on the roof of the warehouse on the left without a sign. Getting low and crawling on all fours, I stalk my prey as they approach the vans. Their body language gives them away. They think this is it. This is going to be the night they put the knockout blow on the chin of the Maggia and take them off the board as rivals. My lips curl up into a smile. 

This is going to be fun.

Gargan and Sytsevich approach the vans, and I shift into a crouched position, preparing for the fight about to come. A nod from Digger Harkness, also known as Captain Boomerang and the leader of the Enforcers, tells the two men to proceed. Behind Boomerang is Delilah, the small, but agile, fighter standing guard in the back. The two men swing the doors of the vans open, ready to kill anyone inside.

[color=00a651][b]"What the hell is this?"[/b][/color]

The vans are empty, of course. I let them stew in their confusion for a moment before pressing a new button on my right webshooter. On the doors of the van, now facing the two Enforcers, and on the ground below the commandos on each side of the warehouses, small capsules flash from blue to red before exploding in a bloom of webbing.Remote web bombs that Peter cooked up. He'll be thrilled to see they worked as well as they did.

Gargan is instantly cocooned in the stick substance. The Russian manages to escape with one hand free, and he paws at the webbing. Pete was right, he is far too strong to be trapped for long. I look over my shoulder and see the strike team trapped in their own web, meaning the team on the other side is as well.

[color=ec008c][i][b]Good. Now it's just me and the Enforcers.[/b][/i][/color]

After a button press on my left webshooter, music queues up in my audio system and I get to work. I swing over the opening, attaching a webline to Delilah as I do. When I'm on the other side, I yank her off her feet and into the air. She soars like a doll over the warehouse on the right, and lands hard on the other side. My landing is much softer, and I crack my knuckles as she staggers back to her feet.

[color=9e005d]"I should have known this was too good to be true,"[/color] she snarls.

[color=ec008c][b]"I can't believe I'm gonna say this,"[/b][/color] I motion with my hand for her to bring it on, [color=ec008c][b]"but enough talk. It's time to put you crazy circus acts away for good."[/b][/color]

She comes at me, but noticeably slower than when she had the jump on me. Whether it's from the hard landing or me having the upper hand this time doesn't matter. I've already taken her off her game, which means the others will hopefully be just as rocked. 

Her strikes are still quick and but not as precisely put together as they once were. I notice she's favoring her left leg, only throwing kicks with the right. The injury means her strikes don't have the exact same bite they did, and it leaves her left side exposed. I allow her to back me up a bit. Drawing her in means when I strike, it will be hard and fast. Meanwhile, she's probably thinking she can delay me until one of her friends manages to get free.

No such luck for the martial arts master, however. She tries to deliver a roundhouse kick with her right leg, a desperation move to get me off my feet. Her foot catches nothing but air. The wild kick causes her to lose her balance, which results in an awkward landing. She winces in pain as her leg shoots through her body. I take the opportunity of my own to kick the injured appendage out from under her. Delilah slams down on her back, the wind knocked out of her instantly. I web her to the ground securely and head back towards the warehouse.

Which is when the large, loading bay doors burst open and Aleksi Sytsevich comes rumbling through them, [color=8882be][b]"You vill pay for zat Spider!"[/b][/color]

[color=ec008c][b]"Somehow I doubt that, big guy,"[/b][/color] I laugh as I easily duck under a swipe from his massive mitt. He comes back at me, trying to stomp on me with his size thirteen boot. Backflipping out of the way, I land and break out into a sprint towards Sytsevich. Vaulting off his leg, I knee him in the chin, sending him stumbling backwards.

The big Russian is strong, sure. But he's big and slow. Those two things play right into my hand. He falls back into the wall of the warehouse, swinging wildly at me. He's got as much chance to hit me as a blind man does at catching a fly. After ducking another attempted haymaker punch from my left, and spring off the pavement with all the strength my legs can muster. My right fist connects with the chin of the strong man with a resonating thud. The strength of the blow sends the two of us tumbling through the wall of the decrepit building, raining rubble down on top of us. 

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/3xHa574.png?1[/img][/center]

Sytsevich stumbles back and teeters for a moment like at the end of a Mortal Kombat match, before he falls over. His gargantuan body kicks up a tidal wave of dust and dirt, filling the air inside the musty old warehouse. Drool seeps out of his mouth like a river and pools around his chin as I completely coat his arms and legs in webbing.

[color=ec008c][b]"Let's see you get out of that one, you big bastard."[/b][/color]

My spider sense alerts of a new threat, and the trademark hum of approaching boomerang buzzes through my ears. The first wave of three comes from seemingly every direction at once. Even as I jump and flip through the air, contorting my body to ensure I don't get caught by one, I sense three more coming towards me. No time to get out of the way of these, though. I track them with my eyes, and fire shots of webbing to knock them out of the air.

[color=ec008c][b]"Nice try, Digger,"[/b][/color] I mock the criminal's failure to land a hit on me. [color=ec008c][b]"Looks like the dingo ate your aiming."[/b][/color]

Harkness's voice seethes from the shadows of the warehouse, echoing through the empty space, [color=0072bc][b]"Come on now, Spida. You can do better than that one."[/b][/color]

Slinking through the rubble of decades trying to locate the source of the Australian accent, I respond, [color=ec008c][b]"Yea, probably, but it's late and I don't feel like being more creative with my taunts."[/b][/color]

Another wave of projectiles fly towards me. One clangs off a rebar support beam, another embeds itself in some old plaster, and the third comes dangerously close to hitting me in the head as I can feel its wake ruffle my hood. Luckily, Captain Boomerang gave away his position with that throw. I look up to see the catwalks above, and a shadow taking cover behind an old electrical panel.

[color=0072bc][b]"You know,"[/b][/color] the shade says, unaware I know exactly where he is, [color=0072bc][b]"you talk too much. Maybe it's because we usually kill our marks a lot fast than we've been able to take care of you, but usually they don't talk anywhere close to this amount. You always this chatty?"[/b][/color]

[color=ec008c][b]"You have not I idea."[/b][/color] I continue to act like I'm searching for the hitman, but out the corner of my eye I can see him get in position for another volley my way. Good. He has no idea, which means I can goad him into a mistake. [color=ec008c][b]"My dad tells me that I could bring Atlantis back to the surface with all the hot air I let-"[/b][/color]

He fires off another succession of throws my way, but this time I'm more than ready. As the first one leaves his hand, a webline snatches it out of the sky like a frog does a fly. With a wide-arcing swing, I slash the rusted, decaying supports of the catwalk. With a dry, dead snap like the wishbone at Thanksgiving, the supports give way and the catwalk teeters towards the floor.

Digger Harkness is good though. Really good. As he falls towards the ground, he tosses two more bladed boomerangs my way. One slices me across the right shoulder, and the other against the left calf. It hurts, but they're just glancing blows. What they manage to do is drop my guard for a moment, allowing him to close the gap and give me a stiff right across the jaw.

I see stars momentarily, but manage to shake them away in time to catch his next punch with my bare hand, and deliver a devastating uppercut that raises him into the air before coming back down to earth in a crumpled heap.

With some more webbing, the Enforcers are taken care of, and I let out a long, deep sigh.

Strolling back into the courtyard of the factory complex, I'm not gonna lie, I feel like a victorious gunfighter out of the old west. All I need is Stranger to ride me into the sunset. Well, it's well past sunset but you know what I mean.

Still cocooned to the side of the van, I find Gargan still struggling in his webby prison, [color=ec008c][b]"Well, this is a truly pathetic display, if I do say so myself."[/b][/color]

[color=00a651][b]"This ain't over, web-head!"[/b][/color] he screams, spittle flying from his mouth. [color=00a651][b]"You ain't gonna keep us down!"[/b][/color]

I look over both shoulders, [color=ec008c][b]"Looks like I'm keepin' ya down pretty good so far, Gargan."[/b][/color]

[color=00a651][b]"Yea, well next time'll be different,"[/b][/color] he promises. [color=00a651][b]"And next time, we're gonna kill ya!"[/b][/color]

[color=ec008c][b]"Okay, have fun trying to kill me from prison, scout,"[/b][/color] I pat him on the head condescendingly. [color=ec008c][b]"Hey, Dewolff! I'm doing out here!"[/b][/color]

Suddenly, my spider sense explodes with warning. From the buildings surrounding me come dozens of police officers donning SWAT gear, all of their weapons trained on me. I keep my hands by my side, eyeing up the rank and file. They're all close. Point blank range. Any of them fire and I'm done for. I'm fast, but no way am I fast enough to dodge gunfire at this range. Plus, if I do, one of the cops is almost certainly taking a bullet.

The officers surrounding me separate, and from the gap strolls Lieutenant DeWolff and my father. From Jean's face, I can tell she's nervous, not ready for what happens next. My father, on the other hand, looks as determined as I've ever seen him. He's certainly taking this new task force seriously. I guess that's a good thing. Well, it would be if he didn't have a football team's worth of rifles pointed at me right now.

[color=ec008c][b]"Well, DeWolff,"[/b][/color] I snicker in my Spider-Womany voice, hoping to god my dad doesn't recognize it, [color=ec008c][b]"I can't say I'm surprised. A little hurt? Maybe. A bit hungry? For sure. But not surprised."[/b][/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"Enough of the talk,"[/color] Captain Stacy barks. [color=7bcdc8]"Put your hands on your head. Your days of vigilantism are over."[/color]

[color=ec008c][b]"Hands on my head? Yea, I can do that."[/b][/color]

As my hands come away from my hips, however, I toss the two web mines I kept for myself at the assembled officers. They explode as I fire a webline to the crane above and yank myself out of the line of fire. I look back to see the SWAT team, DeWolff, and my dad encased in webbing. 

I swing out of the old factory complex, and as I gain alttitude, I can see the veritable army of cop cars that were ready and waiting if needed.

[color=ec008c][b]"Sorry, Dad. Maybe next time."[/b][/color]

[center]**********[/center]

[b]Ditko Luxury Apartments[/b]

The Black Tarantula's fists slam down on the table in front of Otto Octavius who doesn't move a muscle. He merely smirks at the sign of frustration from the crime lord.

[color=92278f][b]"Is that all you can do!?"[/b][/color] the Tarantula rages at the genius. [color=92278f][b]"Is all you do laugh and smile at my failures!? This is not a game to me, Octavius! This is my birthright! This is everything my family has worked for! Down the shitter because some bitch in a costume decides to get in my way. She wiped the floor with my best lieutenants in minutes! Minutes! You told me she wouldn't be an issue! You told me the Enforcers would be a match for her!"[/b][/color]

Octavius merely takes off his glasses and wipes them down. Before returning them to his face he looks at the mob boss and smiles again, a little bigger for effect. With his normal German-twinged monotone, he explains [color=c4df9b]"Yet again you fail to really listen. I said the Enforcers could be a match for her. I truly didn't know. They won the first round. The stratagem of threatening innocent civilians worked for a time. Then she led your men into her web and scored a TKO. With every encounter we learn more, my naive friend. Taking down a superhero will not be possible until we learn all there is to know."[/color]

[color=92278f][b]"And that's all this is to you?"[/b][/color] Tarantula's eyes narrow. [color=92278f][b]"A learning exercise."[/b][/color]

[color=c4df9b]"Precisely,"[/color] he nods happily. [color=c4df9b]"If we at AIM ever hope to perfect the enhancement of the human race to combat the superhuman threat, we need to see if Spider-Woman is capable of dealing with everything we throw at her. So far, so good."[/color]

[color=92278f][b]"So AIM wants to save humanity?"[/b][/color]

A small titter of laughter escapes from the scientist, [color=c4df9b]"AIM wants to reshape the world, and nothing less. Think of what someone could do with ten obedient Spider-Women at their side? Fighting the superheroes of the world merely is data collection to improve our product to sell to the highest bidder."[/color]

[color=92278f][b]"How will you test her against superhumans?"[/b][/color] the crime lord is puzzled. [color=92278f][b]"She is the only one in New York."[/b][/color]

[color=c4df9b]"Ah!"[/color] Otto becomes so excited he is practically bouncing up and down. [color=c4df9b]"That brings us to the next phase in our little experiment. Shall we begin?"[/color]