Mister E

Felix sat in a plush leather chair. This was the Mallory office at the Goodman, Lieber, Kurtzberg & Holliway law firm. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, marble-topped desk, and framed certificates that screamed power and prestige. This belonged to a rich-person-lawyer. Felix never thought he'd be with such a lawyer. 

Mallory, poised and precise, slid a stack of papers across the desk toward him. Her manicured nails tapped lightly against the folder as she spoke. "These are the official documents regarding Mr. Smythe's estate. Once you sign these, everything becomes yours.

Felix stared at the papers, his fingers twitching slightly. 'Everything? What the hell does that even mean? Alistair and I weren't close—friends at work, sure, but not this.' His mind raced, cycling through memories of Alistair. They'd shared lunches, debated projects, even had the occasional drink after work. But this? This felt surreal.

"Let's go over the details," Mallory said, her tone professional but not unkind. She opened a folder and began reading off the assets. "Mr. Smythe's estate includes his primary residence in the Upper East Side—a mansion valued at approximately $25 million. He also owned a collection of luxury cars, including a McLaren P1, a Bugatti Chiron, and a Bentley Flying Spur, totaling another $8 million. Additionally, he had diversified investments in several promising start-ups, bringing his net worth to just shy of $90 million."

Felix blinked rapidly. 'Ninety million? Ninety…million!? Are you kidding me!? I thought he was more of a basic millionaire, not…what the fuck!?'

Mallory continued, unfazed by his stunned silence. "There are also some smaller items—artwork, rare collectibles, and a few offshore accounts. But those are less relevant for today. We're focusing on the core assets."

Felix nodded numbly, picking up a pen as Mallory slid the first page toward him. He signed where she indicated, his hand moving automatically.

'Why would he leave all this to me?' Felix questioned, his grip on the pen tightening. 'We weren't best friends. We didn't hang out outside work. We were colleagues, l-like good classmates that only interacted during class but never outside of it. So why?'

Page after page passed, and Felix's growing unease was masked by polite smiles and occasional nods. Mallory's sharp green eyes tracked his every move, but if she suspected his inner turmoil, she gave no sign.

When they reached the final document, Felix set down the pen and met her gaze. "Do you mind if I ask when this will was written?"

Mallory leaned back slightly, folding her hands on the desk. "It was after the Oscorp factory explosion," she said matter-of-factly. "Alistair contacted me that same week and requested to update his will. He was... insistent. I'll admit, I have some internal questions too, but..."

"Alistair told you not to question it?"

"He was insistent."

Felix's mind reeled. 'After the factory explosion? Did he see me? Did he figure out who I am?' No. No, it was impossible. His Spider-Sense should have detected it. So…did he figure it out through logic? Did someone else tell him? But who…?

His stomach churned as he thought back to that day. That day of fire and radiation, he had been careful, he buried a dead corpse, and was forced to team up with that silver-haired woman. They hid underneath the table but they weren't caught. Alistair did not see them. 

Alistair...did not...see him...

Mallory's voice broke through his thoughts. "Perhaps it was panic," she offered, shrugging lightly. "People often make drastic decisions after traumatic events. You worked at the same place, correct? You must have been good to him then." 

Felix forced a smile, nodding as if her words made perfect sense. "Right. That makes sense."

But it didn't. Not at all. 'This wasn't panic. Alistair knew something. Or thought he did. And now I have a new mystery to solve.' 

Was it new? Or was it connected? 

He signed and signed and signed until Mallory suddenly stood. She extended a set of car keys toward him, her smile tinged with something like amusement. "Ah, and one more thing. Alistair was very specific about this: the Bentley Flying Spur is parked downstairs and ready for you. He insisted it be waiting for you the moment you finished signing."

Felix stared at the keys, hesitating for just a moment before taking them. "That's... thoughtful," he said, though the word felt hollow in his mouth. 

"And this phone."

'Phone?' 

Along with the keys, he was given a flip phone. Super old technology. Probably untraceable. 

Felix thanked the female lawyer and walked out. On the way, he attempted to unlock the phone. He couldn't. A password was there. 

The Bentley gleamed under the parking garage's fluorescent lights, its sexy black exterior reflecting the stark white lines of the empty lot—because honestly, it was a sexy piece of machinery. Clean too. Felix suddenly understood why men were so infatuated with cars. He had never been one of them but being blessed with this thing, the male urge suddenly manifested. Felix opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. A rich leather interior greeted him. For a moment, he just sat there, the keys in his hand, staring at the dashboard.

'Alright, Alistair. What's the play here?' he asked in his head. He began methodically searching the car, checking the glove compartment, the cup holders, every nook and cranny where something might have been hidden. But there was nothing. No letter, no note, no hidden device, and no camera. 

He sighed, leaning back against the seat. "Guess I'll have to drive it."

Felix inserted the key and turned it. The engine purred to life, smooth and powerful, and the dashboard lit up with a faint blue glow. But then, something caught his attention—a faint beeping sound emanating from the radio. Felix's brow furrowed as he turned the volume knob, listening closely.

The beeping continued, steady and rhythmic. It wasn't random—it was a pattern.

'Morse code,' Felix realized. He leaned forward, focusing on the sequence as it repeated. Short bursts, long pauses—a loop. He translated the pattern in his head.

M-I-S-T-E-R-E.

"Mister E," Felix muttered aloud. "Don't tell me…?" 

Felix sat there, the beeping filling the silence of the car. In all likelihood, this Mister E was the code to the phone. But why? What was in there? 

'You couldn't just leave me a simple note, could you, Alistair?' he thought bitterly. 'Of course not. That would be too easy.'

He was just about to unlock the phone when his Spider-Sense prickled at the back of his neck—a subtle but undeniable warning. Felix's eyes darted to the rearview mirror. No one was there, but he knew better than to ignore the feeling. 'They're watching,' he realized. 'SHIELD, NYPD, someone. They've just arrived. Just in time too.'

He turned the radio knob off and ejected the disk. The disc was labelled "UNDERG". Felix put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. 

With the sudden inheritance, Felix knew what it looked like. He had motive. He had opportunity. And to anyone looking closely, it would seem like he had something to hide.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. 'They're going to pin this on me if I'm not careful. Alistair's will, this car—it's all part of a trap, whether he meant it to be or not.'

He couldn't stay here. He had to act—and he had to act fast. He shifted the car into drive, the engine humming as he pulled out of the parking garage and into the darkened streets. This phone and Mister E was his only lead. And he wasn't about to let it slip through his fingers.

He stopped at a red light. With the stop, he thought deeply. He had to figure this out or never. The Spider-Sense had not lightened. They were close. 

'Come on, Felix. Think, think! Nick Fury and SHIELD are probably going to interrogate you again tonight! There's no way they won't after all this inheritance crap! So think! What was Alistair thinking? What does this all mean?'

After the factory explosion, Alistair decided to give him everything. Why? Why? Why right after? He learned something about Felix. He had to have.

"But he didn't see me. My Spider-Sense wouldn't lie unless—wait…"

'Her employer wants the spiders to go?'

Alistair didn't see him. Someone else did. The thief. The white-haired woman. 

The employer. The one that hired the thief to infiltrate the factory and wipe away all data on the spiders.

It was Alistair. It had to be. 

She told him about a man named Felix Faeth. And from there, he must have figured it out: Felix was Spider-Man. 

Green light. Felix proceeded. 

"So Alistair hired that white-haired woman. That woman later went on to steal Little Thief and kidnap Kate Bishop. So that means that thief woman turned on Alistair for whatever reason and somehow used Kate. So Natasha Romanoff, the woman we've been seeking, has to be her; or a strong lead to Natasha."

It was the best lead he had—as well as the worst. Whoever Ashley was, she was a professional that did not take kindly to being followed. She covered her tracks well. Felix Faeth, Maria Hill, Yelena Belova, and Aaron Davis could not find her.

Yellow light. Felix pressed down on the pedal and went through. His Spider-Sense weakened. In other words, they were too far to observe him. Swiftly, Felix pulled out the flip phone and inserted "Mister E" as the code. No spaces and not capital. It worked. Felix called the first and only number on it. Felix waited and waited and waited…

"Mister E? Hello?"

A woman's voice—Ashley's voice. The thief of the night. The woman that kidnapped Kate Bishop. 

"Do you have another job for me, boss?" 

'She doesn't know he's dead.' 

So their relationship was strictly transactional. Alistair kept his distance. 

"Where can we meet?" Felix asked cautiously. 

"Meet? Face to face? This is new." Pause. "Your voice module is gone too. What's up?"

"...you wanted something, didn't you?" 

Be vague so that she didn't know something was up.

"Ooh, you're going to let me borrow Little Thief?"

Little Thief was in Alistair's possession!? So it wasn't just the factory incident, Alistair hired her to get Little Thief. Why though? What was the reason? 

Ugh, like it mattered it now. He needed a way to see her and track her back to where she was keeping Kate—and he needed to do it while having SHIELD off his back. If he got Kate and this thief, then everything would be solved. Felix was quite sure of that. 

"I'll text you the address. It's a small café shop in Harlem. Oh, and remember to bring those EMP earrings of yours."

"Ooh, Mister E. You have a new surprise for me?"

New surprise? Ah, so Alistair made the earrings for her. No wonder Felix was so shocked by how advanced they were. Only the creator of the radioactive spiders could invent something so ridiculous. 

"You'll see," the new Mister E ended up saying.

***

Thirty minutes later and Felix had arrived. The café in Harlem buzzed with low chatter and clinking cups. It was cozy and packed, the hum of conversation blending with the hiss of the espresso machine. Near the back corner, Ashley—or whatever her real name was—sat by herself at a small table. She was easy to spot: white hair catching the dim light like silk, flawless skin, and those infamous diamond earrings that weren't just for show. She was scrolling through her phone, seemingly relaxed, but Felix could see her sharp gaze darting up every so often to scan the room.

'So Alistair did hire her.' 

His Spider-Sense tingled faintly—SHIELD's surveillance wasn't far off. Reaching her table, he slipped into the chair across from her without a word. Her head snapped up, her icy eyes locking onto him with a mix of shock and confusion.

"You?" she said, leaning back slightly as her lips curled into a wry smile. "You're Mister E? Don't tell me…ha, then everything you did was a test?"

Felix kept his expression neutral, though inside, his thoughts whirred. 'Never met Alistair face-to-face. She thinks I'm him. She thinks everything we did was...'

"Now it all makes sense. No wonder you and I met the way we did." She smirked. "Although I don't entirely understand it, it does make sense."

Luck. Coincidence. Things were going well for Felix.

"Activate your EMP," he said simply, his voice low enough not to carry over the din of the café.

Ashley blinked, then smirked, her fingers toying with one of the diamond studs. "You do realize if I do that, this whole block is going dark, right? And at this hour, that's total blackout territory."

"Do it," Felix said, leaning forward slightly. His calm tone carried enough weight to make her pause.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, searching for any tells. When she found none, she sighed dramatically and tilted her head. "Fine. But if this gets me arrested, I'm blaming you." She twisted the diamond stud with a flick of her fingers, and a barely audible click followed.

The effect was instantaneous. The lights flickered and died, plunging the café into darkness. Gasps and murmurs filled the air as the chaos of a sudden blackout rippled through the patrons. Felix didn't wait—he reached across the table, grabbing Ashley by the arm and pulling her up.

"Hey!" she hissed, stumbling slightly as he dragged her toward the back of the café.

"Move," he muttered, keeping his grip firm as they pushed through the startled crowd. The back door swung open, and they emerged into the alley behind the building.

The Bentley was parked in the lot just a few feet away. Felix opened the passenger door and ushered Ashley inside before sliding into the driver's seat. The car roared to life, no lights, and peeled out of the lot and onto the street.

"H-hey, it's completely—"

"I can see." 

Because he was Spider-Man, that was why. He drove while others skidded or stopped. Felix did several hard turns, not caring for if he was on the correct side of the road. All that mattered was escaping SHIELD. 

Felix's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Where's your place?"

She laughed, the sound sharp and incredulous. "My place? Oh, no. You don't get to run me around like this. We had a deal, remember? You were going to bring me Little Thief."

"I will," Felix said evenly. "But we need to talk somewhere safe. Your place is the safest option."

"You think I'm going to let you walk into my home? Yeah, no. Not happening."

Felix glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Do you want Little Thief or not?"

That gave her pause. She pursed her lips.

"Think about it. A device that can simulate any environment, replicate security layouts, police reports, even people. For someone like you, it's priceless—and I don't mind letting you borrow it for a brief. You've done some jobs for me. I trust you."

"So what was with the EMP?"

"Insurance. In case you had a partner."

"In case...haah. You don't trust me."

"Then let's change that." 

Ashley stayed silent for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. Greenwich Village. I'll give you the address."

Felix nodded, and she recited the location. He committed it to memory. They escaped the darkness of the block and into the light of a new block. His Spider-Sense long stopped tingling. SHIELD was no longer tracking him.

Excellent.

***

The house in Greenwich Village was a quaint, unassuming brownstone tucked between larger, more modern buildings. Felix parked the Bentley a block away to avoid drawing attention. When he turned off the engine and looked over at Ashley, he said, "After you," motioning toward the door.

Ashley gave him a sidelong glance but didn't argue. She got out of the car, leading him toward her modest house. It wasn't much—simple, unassuming, but there was something off about the place. As they walked up to the front with Felix a step behind, he caught sight of the name on a stack of mail sitting in the box: Elodie Gros.

'Obviously a fake name,' Felix thought. 'She's thorough, I'll give her that.'

She opened the door with her keys. Felix followed her inside. As soon as they stepped through, his eyes scanned the surroundings. The living room was sparsely furnished, though there was a stack of mail on a small table. One fancy envelope caught his attention—Felicia Hardy. Another fake name? Hm, but this one seemed to be the only one of its kind… 

Stopping at the living room, Ashley turned to face him. "Now, about Little Thief—"

Chop! 

Faster than the eye could see, he appeared behind her and landed a clean chop to the neck. Instantly she went unconscious. Ashley's body slumped, and Felix caught her before she hit the ground. He placed her gently down on the floor, making sure her head rested comfortably.

"Sorry about that. I can't be wasting time here." As he stood over her, Felix couldn't help but remark with a bit of arrogance, "Here, this close, your bad luck powers can't help you like they did at the Sanctum. You mentioned it before, didn't you? The Sanctum was full of magic. An anomaly. This place isn't." 

He looked at the curtains, ripped the bottom half, and used them to tie her arms and legs up. Knowing her bad luck charm, it wouldn't keep her for long but probably long enough for his investigation.

His eyes scanned the house. There had to be a basement—or something. And then he saw it—in the kitchen, behind the sink, was a rug that looked way too out place. Either the lady thief was a naturally disorganized person or this was evidence.

"She probably has an underground lair and in her rush to get the EMP from her lair, she didn't properly adjust the rug to hide it."

A guess. Felix moved toward it and flung away the rug. The three tiles looked ordinary. He figured there was a password or a button to click. Felix had no time for investigating and figuring it out like he wanted. With his bare hands, he tore the tiles away and exposed the basement area.

"Knew it."

This was the basement, no doubt about it. He dropped down and landed safely. He saw total darkness. If he had gone the normal way, perhaps the lights would have flicked on. Not that it mattered. His Spider-Sense wasn't warning him. This was indeed safe. 

His eyes could see through the darkness. He naturally possessed night-vision. He saw equipment. He saw a skintight leather costume trimmed with white-fur, alongside a black domino mask and choker. This basement was for more than keeping storage, it was for her thieving ways. 

And then he saw her.

Kate Bishop.

Tied to a chair, her head resting against her chest, her eyes closed. She was unconscious, but she was alive.

Finally.