Chapter 59: On These Vulture Wings Part I

Chapter Fifty Nine: On These Vulture Wings Part One:

One month ago, New York City, along with the rest of the world was in grave peril thanks to the infamous Red Skull. The crazed would be world conquerer had threatened to make cities disappear at will, thanks to his insidious doomsday weapon.

There was one man who the Red Skull would have never thought could defeat him. The one person that pretty much everyone wrote off as a threat to the Red Skull, thinking of him to be some teenager who got power by a fluke occurance. The right place at the the right time with the right bug bite apparently. Yet this young man, this young hero, proved himself to be much more than someone who was a victim of circumstance. It was due to his tremendous will to fight and never say die attitude that he was able to triumph against the forces of evil and ensure that the Red Skull's never duplicated brand of evil would ever harm the innocent populace ever again.

Yet when one evil is vanisquished, another appears to give our beloved web slinger a challenge. On this day, while it might not be obvious at first, Spider-Man would begin on the path to one of his toughest tests yet. One that will test our friendly neighborhood web slinger both physically and emotionally. That, true believers, is where our tale begins on this day.

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Spider-Man swung across the city, landing down outside of the building, eyes narrowing in concentration, as he looked to see a partially opened door. Just a crack, just enough to slip in without anyone really noticing from a distance, but when Spider-Man swung down, the disturbance was triggered by his spider sense. The web head slipped the door open, where a guard had been rendered unconcious by a rag covered in chroloform.

"Look at that, the stuff was here, just like the boss said."

"I don't know nothing about computers, but that's going to fetch a big score on the street."

"Just be quiet, load it, we'll get in and get out, before the cops can pull their pants up."

Spider-Man slipped in, to see three goons, teenagers by the looks of things with dyed hair, baggy pants, and ratty t-shirts, along with multiple body piercings.

"Yeah good plan, you just forgot one important variable," said Spider-Man as the three goons turned around. "Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

"Take care of him!" shouted the apparent leader as the biggest member of the gang rushed forward, but Spider-Man casually blocked his attack, and then jumped up, before he kicked the gang member off right into to the ground. A second member of the gang rushed forward, swinging a chain, but Spider-Man shot out a line of webbing, grabbing the chain, before he leapt up and flicked his wrist, causing the chain to wrap around and the man to web in place.

The fattest gang member managed to haul his ponderous bulk up a couple of stairs, before he launched himself right at Spider-Man. Spider-Man managed to catch him, before muscling his heavy bulk up with ease and throwing him at the wall with flawless ease. The gang member was down on his back where his hands and feet were webbed together.

"You're dead meat, Spider-Man!" threated the gang leader as he swung a broken table leg with a nail sticking out of it, but Spider-Man dodged the attacks, almost bored as the guy just swung and promptly blew himself up from overexertion.

"Newsflash, I just went toe to toe with the Red Skull and lived to tell the tale, so I'm not about to lose to some guy who looks like he lost to a fight against nail gun and can't even pull up his pants all of the way," stated Spider-Man, as he blocked the attack, and disarmed the gang leader, before he reached forward and grabbed the nose ring, before giving it a mighty tug.

The gang leader screamed in pain, as the nose ring was ripped out, and blood dripped from his nose, as Spider-Man hit him right in the already bloody nose, before, he swung a line of webbing and latched him to the ceiling, putting him upside down.

"Alright, you've got information, who's behind this?" asked Spider-Man, as he looked at the gang member, hung upside down.

"I did it of course," said the gang leader, with a smug expression.

"I don't care how good of a job you do at it, don't play dumb with me," said Spider-Man in a testy voice. "I heard you talk about a boss. Who is it?"

"Forget it, I've got rights, I'm not talking to anyone without an attorney so you can shove it web head," said the gang leader. "You can just swing on home but you're not getting anything out of me."

"You know you've got far too many piercings, I think I should remove a few of them, maybe starting with this one on your lip, I'll just rip them out like I did with your little nose ring," said Spider-Man casually as he reached forward but the gang leader flinched.

"Alright, alright, we're doing a job for someone called the Master Planner," said the gang leader.

"Master Planner?" asked Spider-Man as he shook his head. This was the third time that he heard that name this week and it was becoming a trend.

"Yeah word on the street is that he might some kind of master plan," said the gang leader cockily but Spider-Man just looked at him in thinly veiled disgust.

"I'll make the wise cracks around here," stated Spider-Man in a dry voice. "Who is this Master Planner?"

"Don't know," said the gang leader, as Spider-Man looked at him. "He calls other people, who get in touch with us."

"So you've worked for him before," stated Spider-Man, and his fingers flicked nearby one of the piercings near the gang leader, causing the leader to talk rather fast.

"A couple of times, not like I have much of a future, people already wrote me off, parents, family, friends, teachers, everyone, the Master Planner offered me a place in his orgaziation when he runs this city," said the gang leader.

"Everyone offers you the world, but you won't get anything in the end," said Spider-Man as he stepped back, before he turned around.

"These guys aren't much older that I am, maybe a bit younger, but they're throwing their lives away, for what?" thought Spider-Man shaking his head. "For money, glory...who knows, if I hadn't been raised right by Uncle Ben and Aunt May, I might be out there. Spider-Man might really be a criminal, talked in the same breath of the Red Skull, Doctor Doom, the Kingpin, the Green Goblin, all of these people. If you get a bad upbringing...man that can mess you up badly.”

At that moment, Captain Stacy lead a group of police inside the building, seeing the three gang members webbed up.

"Well, looks like we can go home early tonight," said Captain Stacy evenly. "Good work again, Spider-Man."

"Yeah good going, Spidey!" cheered another cop, which got him several dirty looks from his fellow officers for his lack of professionalism.

“Carter,” said Captain Stacy in an admonishing manner, and the cop had the good dececy to look sheepish at his outburst.

"These guys were working for someone called the Master Planner," muttered Spider-Man out of the side of his mouth and Captain Stacy's eyebrows just went up. "Name ringing a bit of a bell, Captain."

"It's come up in investigations, some new crime boss, who's tempting juvenline deliquents to commit crimes, but I think there's some deeper motive in mind," said Captain Stacy. "He's out for control of the city...of course all of this is off the record, Spider-Man."

"Oh, of course, Captain Stacy," said Spider-Man.

"He's the first major crime boss to make a play to challenge the Kingpin of Crime," said Captain Stacy, shaking his head. A second crime boss where they had no idea who he might be, one was more than bad enough. "Manfredi's going to get out for good behavior as well."

"Manfredi, as in Silvio Manfredi, the legendary mob boss of New York from the 50s until the Kingpin took over ten years ago," said Spider-Man.

"Nice to see you're taking an interest in the history of the mob in this city," said Captain Stacy with an approving nod.

"Kind of got to with my line of work," said Spider-Man. "Manfredi's got to be really old by now."

"Mind's still sharp as a tack, by the psychological evaluations given to him, even though his health isn't what it used to be," said Captain Stacy. "Ninety six years old, but has a mind that's more alert than most teenagers these days."

"Nice," said Spider-Man, who wondered what trouble Manfredi would cause when he was parolled. The man appeared to be running his organization from behind bars, given the run in that he had previously with those mobsters lead by his chief lietunant, Hammerhead.

"I've got to bring these three in and I'm sure you have places that you've rather be," said Captain Stacy as he turned to give his officers a few last minute orders.

"Yes, I do," thought Spider-Man. "Got to meet Gwen for a date in fifteen minutes, thankfully I wrapped up this goon squad early."

"I would also be careful out there, if I was you, Spider-Man," added Captain Stacy and Spider-Man wondered what the police captain meant, but he swung out the door, before a group of assembled press was, snapping pictures of Spider-Man.

"Hey, Spidey, quick picture right there."

"A word please Spider-Man, a quick interview, won't take that long, fifteen minutes."

"Do you think you'll fight any criminal as tough as the Red Skull ever again?"

"Sorry folks, but your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man has no time for photos," said Spider-Man, as he swung around, as people tried to get his retreating back.

"Wow the press can't get enough me after I helped take care of the Red Skull," thought Spider-Man. "Even the Bugle, they've not praised me but Jameson hasn't printed anything trashing me since it happened, he's gone neutral. Of course, I've got to deal with these vultures, trying to get a piece of me, but I should be able to lose them. And I've got pictures of the battle, so Jameson will be thrilled, exclusive Spidey content. Sales will go through the roof and...who knows when the people will turn on me again. I've got to milk this when I can."

Spider-Man swung around, before he lost them and he went to change, to resume his life as Peter Parker.

"Yeah these goons are light work, but it's been a while since I've really tangled with a big time criminal," thought Peter. "Not that I'm complaining, anyway, I'll actually make my date with time to spare."

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"Alright settle down!" barked a prison guard, at a group of inmates. "You're getting out and about for a little bit, but don't think that you're be back on those cells as soon as you blink. The weight room is to the right, the television is to the left. You better not regret this."

"Man, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed," muttered one of the inmates.

"Heard it was his wife ,with a younger guy," said another inmate in a low voice, as Adrian Toomes, better known as the Vulture, brushed back them. "Hey watch where you're going, old man."

"Out of my way," grumbled Toomes, not caring that these men were half his age, and liable to break him in half. "Fifty years of hard work on my life's work down the drain thanks to Osborn and I'm going to be in here like a common street thug who knocked off a bank. If it wasn't for Spider-Man, I would have gotten what should be mine."

"Yeah, the web head's got some nerve, trying to take us honest guys trying to make a living in," said Herman Schultz, better known as Shocker, as he sat down on the couch next to Toomes. "I say we team up and crack Spider-Man's head. The two of us, the web head won't stand a chance."

"I refuse to lower myself to team with someone who uses high tech technology to rob banks," said Toomes, eyes glinting angry. "Youth is wasted on the young. They have no imagination."

"Ah, I shouldn't waste my time teaming up with an old man like you, you'd break a hip getting out of the shower," said Schultz. "Just wait, I'm going to get Spider-Man next time. He'll know that Shocker beat him."

"Shocker?" asked the enforcer known as Montana. "I tell you what, you have about as much chance against Spider-Man, than Ravencroft security has keeping any of those nuts in there."

"Oh, I'd like to see you do better," challenged Schultz.

"Oh, I reckon I could school you," said Montana. "But one day, I'll be out of here and I've got better things to do, then to deal with some two bit hood, that's only known because the Kingpin gave him some high tech toy."

"You two better pipe down, I'm trying to listen to this," grumbled Toomes.

"What is it?" asked Schultz. "A special extended episode of Matlock?"

Toomes just ignored Schultz, as he turned right to the screen where the image of Norman Osborn could be seen.

"A press release right out out of Oscorp revealed that the technology technology is about to reveal its newest, most cutting edge technology," said the newscaster in an excited voice. "Oscorp CEO Norman Osborn has been working with top scientists to develop perhaps the most sophisticated piece of defensive technology in the world today."

"Our borders are left open, vunerable, allowing anyone to slip into the country, with the potential to do us harm, whether they be human or otherwise," said Norman as he had a stoic look on his face. "Oscorp's patented tech flight technology will allow this groundbreaking technology to be completed."

"Oscorp's patented tech flight technology?" demanded Toomes, as he felt his blood pressure rising. "Don't you mean my patented tech flight technology, Osborn?"

"The project will be revealed to the general public tommorrow afternoon at Norman Osborn's recently created Oscorp Airspace," said the newscaster. "Industrial analysts suspected that the project will add millions to the Oscorp bottom line, something that the company would need after several money losing quarters when Norman Osborn was away on an extended sabbatical."

"Those should be my millions!" shouted Toomes angrily, as he hurled the remote at the television. It missed and hit the wall, but Toomes was still enraged.

"Hey, watch it..." stated another inmate but Toomes managed to strangle him with all of the strength that his old body managed. Two guards walked in and grabbed Toomes, while a third guard moved away.

"Alright gramps, shows over, time to get back to your cell for a little time out," said a guard, as Toomes kicked and clawed his way. “Don't want you having a stroke, the taxes are high enough as it is.”

"I'll show you, I'll show you all, Osborn, I'll get him if its the last thing I do!" howled Toomes as he was lead back to his cell, crazed and swearing to cause all manners of bodily harm to one Norman Osborn.

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"You actually pulled his nose ring out?" asked Gwen in a hushed voice.

"Hey what did you want me to do?" asked Peter with a shrug. "It was the most convenient handle. He was asking for it, about two hundred piercings in his face and if I didn't pull one, that would make me an idiot."

"No, I suppose that would," said Gwen, fighting a smile at the thought. "I suppose that's more exciting than what I was doing away. Finishing up my college application and sending it it."

"Oh, I have to get around to that," said Peter, almost slapping himself. "I don't want to miss getting into ESU."

"Pete, seriously, with your grades, you should be able to get into any school that you want," said Gwen. "If you weren't, that it would prove that their was something wrong with the entire college administration process."

"Things are about to get a lot more complicated from now on with college coming up, senior year in High School," said Peter. "Harry said its a total blow off year, but I'm not so sure."

"Every year for Harry is a total blow off year," said Gwen shaking her head as the two teenagers looked amused. "Have you heard from him lately?"

"Yeah sent me an e-mail, seems to be enjoying his holiday," said Peter.

"Same here," said Gwen. "Back in a week, he said, didn't he?"

"Yeah," said Peter. "So how are you?"

"The cast on my foot is off on Thursday and the scar...well still there, but it faded a little bit," said Gwen, she leaned back. "It'll be nice to walk without crutches. Did you hear anything about Dillon?"

"Still catatonic at Ravencroft, on a feeding tube and a car battery," said Peter.

"Seriously?" asked Gwen.

"Yeah," said Peter with a nod.

"Can't say I feel too bad about the guy, I mean...well you know," said Gwen, as she pointed to the jagged, slighty fainted, but still noticable scar on the side of her head.

"It doesn't look too bad Gwen, your beauty offsets it," said Peter and Gwen just smiled, with a slight blush.

"Thanks Peter," said Gwen quietly, as she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, before they moved over to pay for their meal.

"Its still early, we should go catch a movie or something," said Peter.

"Sounds good Peter, and maybe we can head back to my house after," said Gwen, as she grabbed her crutches. "Dad's working late on this Master Planner case, he's normally not home until after midnight."

"Are you sure you should be doing anything in your condition?" asked Peter with a raised eyebrow.

"Only if you play your cards right," said Gwen, with a slight smirk, as the two teenagers laughed, as they left the restraraunt.

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Any moment that he was not thinking of ways to increase his grasp of power and influence through his company, was a moment Norman Osborn felt was wasted. The plan that had been putting in action for the past five weeks would be one that would put the city, then the entire state of New York, then the entire country, and one day, the world would be in his grasp.

"Norman Osborn, savior of humanity," muttered Norman under his breath as he stood in the elevator, impatiently waiting for it to arrive at his destination. He quite liked how it rolled off of his tongue. It was something that just felt so right.

The bane of Norman Osborn's existence was small corporations that threatened to destabalize his company's standing in the world. Fools with hopes and dreams, that had an idea, that cut into potential profits. In the end, Osborn crushed all of these small corporations, like the worthless, insects that they were. Oscorp was built on hostile takeovers just as much as the blood, sweat, tears, and dedication of Norman Osborn.

Those people who owned those corporations would often go to work for Norman Osborn. They were forced to put their dreams on hold, to work on Oscorp projects, for a meager salary, but it was more than Norman Osborn felt that these bottom feeders were worth. He felt that he was doing them a grand favor. Plus, it would be a worth punishment in many ways. To have those fools who once challenged him come to work every day, to follow his orders and call him “sir”.

Anyone who challenged Norman Osborn's power, would be crushed and brought down beneath his feet. Whether they be man or mutant.

Norman scowled at the thought of those unnatural abominations. He had nothing against mutants in general. He did not think of them as anything less than human, who had been fortunate enough to fall into extrodinary powers that they would not ever fully comprehend. He did not see them as having a sinful existence and sent by the Devil, like some crazed anti-mutant fanatics that he heard in the media as of late. He did not feel that they posed a danger to the children, not that Norman cared about those foul abominations either. He did not spare a thought about them most days but the fact that they had power that could be considered greater than his, ate away at him. That was not acceptable.

Anyone who got the better of Norman Osborn once, even if was by underhanded means and no fault of his own, would not be allowed to do so again. They would be dealt with, permenately.

Only one exception existed to this rule but Norman had plans of a different kind for this individual. He would control the fate of this individual, much like he controlled the lives of the owners of the small corporations that once tried to carve into his company's profits.

Norman exited the elevator, to greet a dark haired man, with a stoic expression on his face.

"Mr. Trask," said Norman with a nod towards Trask. "Welcome to Oscorp."

"It is a pleasure, Mr. Osborn, sir," said Trask with a nod of his own.

"Menken, this is Bolivar Trask," said Norman to Donald Menken, who had just walked by. "He will be overseeing the project that we discussed earlier."

"Mr. Trask," said Menken with a nod. "Mr. Osborn, I have the documents that you requested and also have a concern."

"This way, Menken," said Norman, wondering what Menken could have a concern about. Donald Menken was loyal to an obsessive fault, working for Oscorp from the beginning, putting in more work that anyone who was not named Norman Osborn. "The documentation if you please."

"As you wish, sir," said Menken. "There are people in accounting who have relayed concerns about the other project, especially with the aircraft. We're not going to get enough from the miltary contract to offset our expenses this quarter and if we begin this project, we're going to be set back even more, to lose more money that your son ever did."

"Menken, if our accountants have a problem with how business is done here, then we're find replacements, they fail to see a picture beyond debits and credits," said Norman crisply. "My son nearly put this corporation in the ground when I was on my sabbatical but, I feel that Oscorp will be stronger than ever. In fact, there will be even more capital then ever, straight from the capital itself."

"I don't understand, sir," said Menken.

"Mutants, Menken, a menace that is going to send the nation into ruin, if you believe everything you hear in the news," said Norman coolly. "Washington has been at it for the last month, certain Senators like Kelly are trying to put together a bill to deal with the menace. Unfortunately, those fools don't have anyway to contain these creatures. By the time I'm done, mutants will learn where their place is.."

"But surely the plane will be enough," said Menken.

"The plane will serve its purpose," said Norman. "I have a full day. If anyone has any concerns, make it known that there are hundreds of people who would like their jobs and at a fraction of what I'm paying them."

"Of course, Mr. Osborn," said Menken as he turned to depart, leaving Norman to move on. There was much to do before he accomplished his goal, but if there was one thing Norman Osborn learned, was patience.

It was a virtue that was needed to build his business but Oscorp was merely the foundation of what was to come.

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Toomes rolled back the mattress of his prison cell. The sun had barely risen but he needed to move quickly. A mechnical device was pulled from underneath the ragged mattress in his cell. He had made it in the prison workshop, the foolish guards could not expect what it was, thinking it was just a piece of metal that served no purpose.

Its purpose would allow him to escape when the time was right. He had to speed up the time table because Norman Osborn was using his technology to line Osborn's pockets with more ill gotten funds. Toomes fastened the device to the lock of the cell and pulled the pin, as he stepped back.

A loud explosion echoed right from the cell, which swung open and Toomes moved from the cell. Down the hallway, he spotted a guard, who's eyes widened.

"Stop, Toomes!" shouted the guard, as he pulled out a billy club and moved down the hallway, but Toomes slipped with surprising agility and grace for a man of his advanced age, before he ducked behind a corner and managed to trip up the guard, before removing his gun and pointing it right at his head.

"Do as I say and I won't blow your brains out," said Toomes coldly.

"Don't, please, I'll do anything you want, just don't kill me!" shouted the guard in a panicked voice.

"Stop squirming you fool," said Toomes as he shifted. "Evidence locker right now. I need my wings. I'm ready to fly."

"I don't know why, that doesn't even work anymore," said the guard.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" yelled Toomes. "You couldn't access it, because the technology is beyond your grasp. But I can access all its functions, because I developed it and that fool Osborn stole my idea, then got me sent to prison when I tried to fight him on it."

"Alright, to your right to that corridor, up the stairs, fourth door down on the left," said the guard," said the guard in a pained voice, as Toomes still held him as a shield, before they moved forward.

"Keys," grunted Toomes, as he grabbed the key and inserted it in the lock, causing the door to click open and he moved through the evidence locker. Two more guards moved in, but Toomes picked up one of Shocker's gauntlets, before he pointed it in the air, and sent a blast into the air, to cause the ceiling to cave in and another shot to the floor. There were two screams in horror, as the guards were crushed.

"You killed them," whispered the guard, horrified.

"They got in my way, I'll kill you if you try anything," said Toomes in a dangerous voice, before he threw the guard to the side into a wall and handcuffed him to a pipe in the wall, before he grabed his Vulture costume and quickly slid it on right over his prison garb. "Access code, 22-21-12-20-21-05."

"Hover capabilities, weapon system, and armor unlocked," stated the computer in a monotone and a smile appeared on the face of the now costumed Vulture, as he unhandcffed his hostage and took him out in the sky, before he blasted a hole in the wall and then hoisted the guard up, who struggled.

"Okay, let me go, let me go, you've got out!' shouted the guard.

"As you wiish," said the Vulture as he let go of the guard, hundreds of feet in the air. The guard screamed but there was not much he could do.

The Vulture barely paid any mind to the loud crunch at his former hostage landing right on the ground, as he continued his flight. He had to strike when the moment was right.

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"Good, Parker, well not good, but good for you, glad to see that you haven't lost your touch, as adequate as it might be," said Jameson as he looked over the pictures the morning after the battle. "All of those papers, got pictures of the web head swinging away, but we've got him in battle. A couple of random hoodlums, no costume freaks in a while."

"It's been pretty quiet," agreed Peter.

"It's never quiet in New York and there's always going to be crime, so that web slinger's going to be on the job, wish he'd lose the mask, don't trust anyone who refuses to show his real face, but as long as Spider-Man's beloved by the public, I've got to think about business, the Bugle is the top paper in town, and I've got to keep it that way," said Jameson without taking a breath, as he looked over. "Parker, today I want you at that unveiling of that new defense weapon that Oscorp's putting out. Leeds is already covering the story but I want pictures. Some customed nutcase is bound to take a crack at that thing and Spider-Man won't lose the chance to show up in public. Well, since the web head's beloved we're just going to profit off of it."

"Mr. Jameson's, that's going to be heavily guarded, Norman Osborn isn't going to let something like that go," argued Peter.

"Parker, you're naive, those nutcases don't care how secure anything is, they're going to take a crack at it anyway," growled Jameson. "The press conference is at two, make sure to be there before, its going to be a madhouse, every paper in the east is going to send someone there, but we've got to stay on the ball."

"Right, Mr. Jameson, I won't let you down," said Peter.

"You better not, Parker," said Jameson. "Now get out of my office and do whatever you teenagers do in your free time. I've got work to do."

Peter stepped away and moved outside.

"I think that Jonah was overreacting, no one's going to get near there, Norman Osborn doesn't like to fail at anything and he won't lose this weapon, whatever it is," thought Peter. "Oh well, better call Aunt May, tell her that I have to get pictures of the press confrence.

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The assembled group of press from pretty much every major newspaper from New York to Florida, along with several elsewhere had gathered, towards a podium, where two armed guards stood on either side, as Norman Osborn walked up to the podium. Several more guards were pointed at gates, but Peter noticed that security seemed to be far lighter.

"Of course, with someone like Norman, the real security is what you don't see," thought Peter.

"Members of the press, I welcome you to this grand unveiling of the newest weapon against enemies of the state, to keep our borders safe from intruders," said Norman. "No longer will you have to have sleepless nights, worrying about those entering our country illegally, stealing food from off your table, money from out of your pocket, threatening our freedoms, In fact, you might say we're going to be giving those who threaten our country, something to really fear.”

There was a pause, almost as if Norman was milking anticipating and there was a brief look towards the sky, before he continued his speech.

"Presenting, to you, the Oscorp 245-NQ Vulture," said Norman as they pulled a top off of it, revealing a black plane, with two large red lights, a pointed front, small door on the bottom, and wings with razor sharp tips, almost like claws.

"Gee, this couldn't get the wrong people riled up, could it Norman?" thought Peter. "Looks almost like Adrian Toomes and given that its based off of the gear that Norman stole from him, this looks like the biggest slap in the face ever. Well at least the Vulture's in Ryker's, if he was in Ravencroft, I'd really be panicking right now."

"The Vulture has a neural interface that can be operated from inside the plane, just plug your head, arms, and feet in and you can control the plane with a mere thought or motion," explained Norman. "For those who are keyed into the system, activating the weapons system is as simple as taking a breath. The lights on the front are your eyes to the outside, the speakers on the side are your ears. The weapon system will be able to pluck anyone trying to sneak in and will be able to sense those who are attempting to cross our borders illegally by their heightened adrenaline. They may be able to run, but they will not be able to hide from our newest weapon system. People can sleep a lot easier in their beds knowing that those who threaten our way of life will be dealt with.”

There were some cheers, but a few members of the press looked around.

“Mr. Osborn, what about the rights of the people that this weapon is going for?” asked one of the reporters.

“They should fully be aware that there will be consequences for those who do not enter this country through the proper channels,” answered Norman swiftly. “Those who are truly innocent have nothing to fear. However, those who are guilty and have something to hide, will have everything to fear.”

“You should be the one to have something to fear, Osborn!” shouted the crazed voice of the Vulture, as he dove from the ground.

“Yeah, so much for him not breaking out,” thought Peter as he moved forward, but the Vulture launched two miniature rockets to the ground, to blow the ground up and several people ran away. “Its going to be tough to slip out of here!”

The Vulture did a death defying counter, to avoid three traquilizer darts from being shot up at him. The crafty villain dove down, as Norman Osborn ducked into the chaos.

“You can run, but you can't hide, Osborn!” shouted Vulture, as he sent a stun blast and took out an innocent bystander. “You better come out now, Osborn or the next shot will be lethal...of courst not that you care, you made your life stepping on the common man, what's a few people killed to you!”

“It might be nothing to him, but I think I have plenty to say about it!” called Spider-Man as he swung out of nowhere and he knocked Vulture away. Vulture adjusted his positioning.

“You!” shoutled Vulture, as he armed his weapon system, before he shot a series of blasts, a bit more lethal than the warning shot. “You've made a huge mistake trying to stop me today, Spider-Man.”

“Well not as big as the misake you made by going out in that get up,” countered Spider-Man but Vulture just angrily dove at him, hands outsretched, but the web head launched himself out of the way, and spiralled through the air all around Oscorp Airsplace, before he jumped right on the Vulture's back. “Alright, I'm going to clip your....”

An electrical shock pulsed through Spider-Man and caused the web head to slide off of the Vulture, who dove right at Spider-Man and slashed right at his costume and knocked him down, as he sent a miniature laser blast over a scaffolding area, where several people stood! The debris began to crumble, as Vulture flew off into the distance and circled around, sending more blasts into the distance, in an attept to divide Spider-Man's attention towards innocent bystanders, while he went and looked for his prize.

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Meanwhile, Norman Osborn had slipped out in the confusion, to a waiting limosine which had been running throughout the entire duration of the meeting. He sat in the backseat.

“Drive, don't look back,” said Norman crisply as he pushed in a button on a wristwatch he wore, as he sat as he heard the Vulture's cries, calling for his blood. The limo drove off, as the Vulture continued to fly around, but it appeared that the bird had lost sight of Norman Osborn.

XXXXX-XXXXX

“OSBORN WHERE ARE YOU?” shrieked Vulture as he looked around and the sirens were heard in the distance. “The infernal police, they're going to ruin everything....but I know of a way to even the odds and track down Osborn wherever he hides.”

Vulture swooped down, towards the Vulture plane and he managed to open the door with relative ease.

“Bah, was this encryption desired by pre-schoolers?” taunted Vulture, as he moved inside and sat himself down at a chair, where he placed a sensory helmet on his head and snapped his legs in, before he snapped two loose wrist bands connected to the chair. “Access override code ASM02-05-1963.”

“Systems unlocked and access granted to user,” stated the onboard computer, as the plane began to lift out of the sky. Toomes grinned, in Osborn's supreme arrogance, he had neglected to change the default access codes.

Something that would be a fatal mistake.

XXXXX-XXXXX

After he rescued the innocent bystanders, Spider-Man swung high over the air, above the paramedics and law enforcement offers.

“TOOMES!” called Spider-Man. “Come out and fight me face to face, you infernal buzzard!”

“Your funeral, Spider-Man!” boomed a voice, as dust flew in the air and the Oscorp 245-NQ Vulture, piloted by one Adrian Toomes was directed right towards the crowd. The police fired on the plane, but their bullets had no effect. A swirling green vortex appeared right from in front of the plane.

“EVERYONE RUN!” shouted Spider-Man as his spider sense hit complete overdrive to the point where he got a slight headache and the police stepped back.

“Let's see what this button does,” crowed the Vulture, as he pushed a button and a missile launched from the vortex and pulled it into the area, before it impacted to the ground.

The shockwave had caused everyone within a certain radius to drop to the ground unmoving.

Spider-Man collapsed unconcious, as the Vulture lifted off of the ground. Now upgraded and stronger than ever, the most dangerous bird in New York was about ready to fly and seek to take his revenge on the one who had taken away his life's work. 

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