Sands and Secrets

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***

17 June, 2013. 11:00 am.

New York City, Peter Parker's flat.

Peter Benjamin Parker.

The last few days have been pretty crazy.

Worth starting with the evening I introduced the boys to Aunt May.

I didn't think Ben would cry. Although, that same Cain had wet eyes too.

Aunt May is an amazing woman, a mother not by blood, but by image and feeling.

And this was a real reunion with my mother.

May fed us dinner and afterwards, over tea and banana cake, had a chat with Cain and Ben, welcoming them into the Parker family. It was nice enough. And then, with Delia's prompting, we hugged like a big friendly family.

I left the boys at Mae's house, making it as clear as I could to both of them before I left that if they decided to do something out of the ordinary and their aunt got hurt, they wouldn't be able to imagine a tenth of the misery that would befall them. The boys took offence at the disbelief, but seemed to understand.

Though I could be sure that my copies would never harm May.

Still, trust but verify, right?

Then I picked up Delia and we went to my flat. This time, both Mary and Felicia were home, so it was quite an introduction. MJ had known about this beforehand, so Carrot-top was the friendliest of the bunch. Fey was confused and shocked after the clone story, and Del was terribly embarrassed, but it all went well.

The next day, I went to work hard on my hooking. Checked every symbol in the fake passports for the clones, examined all the information before pouring it into the servers of the family houses, registration authorities and other stuff.

Bureaucracy. I fucking hate bureaucracy.

I spent all day creating fake, but as clean a life as possible, and in the evening I had three fresh passports on my desk, straight from the press. I love the equipment borrowed from the Baxter Building lab.

And then yesterday, there was an extraordinary event: in Harlem, at about ten o'clock in the evening, there was a battle between the Hulk and another gamma mutant, I suspect it was the Abomination.

The battle was so sudden and quick that no one had time to react, not me, not the FF, not the Shield, though I suspect they had their hands on the pulse. The US Army must have kept them in the loop, right? Probably not without the notorious General Ross. Even the other heroes on the street didn't have time to react, but Luke Cage was swearing desperately when the scale of the destruction was summarised. The green guys had a lot of fun.

There were only a few casualties, but the death toll was higher, and before the Hulk arrived, the Abomination had been on the civilian population. Several hundred dead.

I hope the brave general doesn't get court-martialled for that.

So today I woke up and decided to spend the day analysing everything I could pull from the Shield servers. The hack was complete, so now I'm a ghost spider in their system.

First thing I do is pull the agent files Firs asked for.

John Garrett, level 7, started out as an ordinary field agent like everyone else, but after many successful operations he rose to prominence. On one mission he was seriously injured and participated in the Detlock programme to survive. Now commands one of Shield's bases.

Victoria Hand, a high-ranking level 8 agent, which is even more surprising for her twenty-eight years. Either she's really that talented, or she's been patronised. She's nicknamed "The Top," since she personally coordinates dozens of agents and relays almost all information about Shield missions in the United States. I don't know why Fury trusts her so much, maybe there is dirt on her, but the fact is Victoria knows a lot about Shield's affairs. She's a top ten value agent. By the way, it's funny, I don't know if it's a joke from the dossier's compilers or notoriety, but in the file "swears a lot" is highlighted in bold. Nervous work, I guess.

Brock Rumlow. Commander of the Shield's tactical unit called UDAR, in charge of eliminating terrorists and freeing hostages. I'm guessing if the Shield had found Stark while he was in captivity in Afghanistan, they'd have sent these guys to clean up the mess.

Professional soldier, proficient with firearms, edged weapons and martial arts. Judging by the archived records of his training, he'd have made a good instructor. Too bad Fury didn't put me with Rumlow as my teacher. He started out as a mercenary and was recruited into the Shield under the auspices of Alexander Pierce, a prominent politician and member of the World Security Council. That's what connections are for.

And the deeper I dug, the more horrified I became. Waking memories gave me goosebumps. Every single person whose biographies I'd studied was a HYDRA agent.

There is doubt about Victoria Hand, but even in the comics she was often striped, and what in my universe, it is unclear.

Seizing the opportunity, I started looking up all the familiar names:

Melinda May, Cavalry. One of Shield's most notorious agents. Transferred from field duty after the events in Bahrain on the advice of psychologists and her closest partner, Phil Colson.

Leopold Fitz and Gemma Simmons, aka FitzSimmons. Fury took a personal interest in them. Attached to Phil Coulson's team. It's funny, they're supposed to still be in the academy, but they've been employees of the Shield's science centre for over a year now. Although the timeline in my world with the KVM has little similarities.

Jack Rollins, a UDAR agent, Brock Rumlow's right-hand man, is noted for his cold-bloodedness on the battlefield, the best at handling assault rifles in the squad. Judging by his psychological profile, suffers from bouts of brutality. Also a secret agent for HYDRA.

Agent Barbara "Bobbi" Morse, aka Mockingbird. An excellent spy of Black Widow level, hence highly sought after by the Shield. Definitely not a HYDRA agent.

Antoine Triplet aka Trip, a level 6 Shield agent, is the grandson of Gabe Johnson, a member of the Howling Commandos, and his loyalty to the Shield is not to be doubted.

Agents Konigi. Quaternary and close to the Shield's most secretive secrets agents, though even the personnel file doubts the true number of Koenigs. The known agents Bill, Eric, Sam, and LT aka Charlotte Koenigi are known to the public.

Jasper Sitwell, a level 7 Shield agent as well as a covert HYDRA agent, is fanatically loyal to the organisation, but judging by the file, is an exemplary Shield agent. Participated in many operations, coordinating UDAR operatives. He has a calm and friendly character. A miracle, not a bloke, at first glance. But I know the truth.

Grant Douglas Ward. No comment.

I lean back in my chair tiredly.

So it is what it is. The shield has been compromised. HYDRA has not been destroyed, as everyone assumes, but seamlessly integrated into the Shield to deliver the killing blow when the time comes. And Fierce has been looking for them for years, which means the squids are really good at hiding.

Why the hell did I go to the shield? What did I get myself into?

And I can't tell Fury or Natasha, not even Cap. Fierce has me by the balls, just by threatening my sister. Sure, we could hack his brain, and Raj would be happy, but then everyone in Shields would know about the symbiote, and Gustav would still have time to transmit the kill order through his channels. And if I kill him after the brainwashing, I might get arrested, and again, I don't know if Firs' assassins won't work after the chief's death.

No, it is necessary to act more subtly, to collect information, to trace the threads, to be sure in the conclusions and only then to begin to act. And the first priority is to ensure the safety of the sister.

I'd like to know her name first.

I'm distracted from my unhappy thoughts by a reminder message about the train's readiness.

I go to the chem corner and check the compound.

It's ready.

I pour it into the cartridge capsules.

"That's it, Raj, we can begin the hunt for the Sandman."

"Finally, Bearer," the Clintarian muttered excitedly.

I didn't share the symbiote's joy, after all, Flint Sandman Marko is one of the most dangerous spider enemies on the scale of the power of the force. And even with the available freezing compound of the Arctic web, it was still a little scary at the prospect of a possible battle.

Well, luck favours the brave.

I get up and, going into the bedroom, put on my improved suit. I need to be at my best.

I release the manipulator paws, testing the mechanism. I do the same with the retractable blades and the nutrients on the boots and the glider. I recheck the cartridges with regular, boost, flash, shock and arctic web. The electroweb and shockwave modes are normal. Attaching three spiderbots to the satchel. I release my claws and stretch my fingers. Concentrate the Bite in my fist and disperse the energy. Double-checking even the bugs and spider signal in my belt. I listen to the Sense, a slight tingle letting me know that all systems are normal.

"Raj, are you ready?" - I clarify, adjusting my mask lenses and communicator.

"As ready as I'll ever be, Bearer.

Good. I'm fresh and ready for battle.

I walk over to the wardrobe and pull out a jetpack.

It's still a good thing I was helping the Demolition Control Agency clean up Harlem. I cross paths with Nick again and ask for the jetpack. Fury was probably just too embarrassed to say no in front of Anne-Marie Hoag.

I put on my satchel and look at the adamantium katanas. Should I arm myself to the fullest?

Nah.

Swords are useless against the Sandman anyway.

I disguise all my gear with the symbiote and go up to the roof.

From there, I take off.

As I fly, I use my lenses to plot a path to the Oscorp test site.

The location I need is in upstate New York, five kilometres from Rikers Community Prison. Not the best place to be housed, but I guess because there's an entire prison nearby, it was cheap enough. Flint escaped from the penitentiary and had an unfortunate accident right in the middle of an experiment.

I'm out of town and heading South.

Really, what are the odds that Flint didn't piece himself back together back then? How many months ago was that, anyway?

He's long gone, but with no reports of sandman robberies, young Penny still in the hospital, and no other leads, there's no other options.

It's still a few kilometres to the firing range.

The flight is cool enough, I like this new experience, but it's still worse than the usual web flying. And I'm sure refuelling the jetpack is a pain in the arse. In short, will remain this option of movement only for the extreme case, when it will be necessary to quickly overcome a huge distance.

I fly and think about all sorts of little things: what to get George for his birthday, what kind of pizza to order for a football party with Ben this weekend, what to wear to the opening of Hardy Consolidated on the seventh of July, dinner jacket or tailcoat? And other trivia.

Involuntarily, my thoughts return to the most important issue on the agenda.

Norman Osborne.

He'll be back in town in four days. Only four days. On the one hand, I have the advantage that the Goblin knows nothing about me and I know everything about him. On the other hand, that advantage gives me nothing. George was right, for the moment, Osborne is completely untouchable. Norman's got connections all over America, Oscorp's tied up in a huge number of military contracts, just the recent ones, alas Stark's good endeavours have given rise to bastards like Norman. But it wasn't just guns that started the Oscorp boasting. Thanks to my contacts at Bogle, I've learnt that during the press conference Norman plans to announce that the company's medical department has created a new stimulant.

Looks like the Goblin is serious about getting back in the game. Did he plan this whole thing from the beginning? And if so, why the circus with the Pumpkinhead gang? Was he testing me?

Thinking about the future takes me all the way to the testing facility.

I land on the tree of a small field around the fenced area and take off the jetpack. There's enough fuel for exactly the trip back to the city. Costly upgrade.

I strap the jetpack to a tree and jump over.

Adjusting my lenses to look for security systems. A few cameras, nothing out of the ordinary.

"Carrier, do you think Sandman might still be at this range?" - Raj inquires.

"Hard to say, mate during the particle generator test Flint was atomised into molecules and combined with silicon particles. I'm not at all sure it's even possible to survive after such a microscopic exposure with a molecular structure, but we've both seen that it's still possible. So you can't be sure of anything at this point."

I survey the range, switching the lenses to irradiated particle detection mode. If my calculations are correct, it should work. I'm careful not to switch off the cameras. Let Norman know I'm around to keep an eye on what he's up to. If the lazy guards even let me know that Spider-Man's in the testing area.

I walk along the entire site and already think the trek is pointless, as the scanner detects the first irradiated particle.

I follow the trail of sand grains like breadcrumbs and after two hundred metres I find myself in a forest, in the middle of a huge sandy field, with fully irradiated silicon particles.

"I wonder if it reacts to its surroundings?" - I knew it wasn't a trap by my completely silent sense.

I set up the throwers and swapped the cartridges for Arctic Web.

"Raj, be ready."

"Got it, Peter."

All right, let's go.

- Flint, can you hear me?

No response.

- Flint Marco, are you there?

I feel like a character in a horror film communicating with a spirit using a Ouija board.

Suddenly, words start appearing in the sand.

"Yes."

Oh, great, now it's like a horror film.

- You've been lying in these woods all these months? - If so, the man's got a hell of a stamina.

"Months?"

I see.

- I guess so. Look, you're generally okay, all in all, all right?

"I'm a big pile of sand, do you think I'm all right?"

- Heh, but it turns out you still have your sense of humour. That's the most important thing in a stressful situation.

Coughing.

- Hey, Flint, have you ever tried to pull yourself back together after a breakup?

Words began to form in the sand again.

"Pull together? I don't know how."

"And how to help him? Ideas, Raj?"

"How about we just leave him here, he's a criminal after all?" - Clarifies the symbiote.

"That's kind of inhumane, brother. Besides, his daughter has a brain tumour and I'm dooming her father to a mortal existence as a pile of sand? Nah, that's no good."

- Look," I turn to Marco, "try to concentrate, imagine you're putting yourself together, in your case literally.

"Okay."

After a while the sand swirls slightly, but after a minute it smooths out on the ground again.

"It's not working."

Okay. Motivation didn't work. Moving on to plan B.

- Your daughter Penny is sick, the girl has a tumour and could die at any moment. You're her father, it's your duty to protect her, to care for her, and instead of finding a solution, you'd rather be a pathetic mass of rubble in these woods?!

I feel the sand starting to move.

- Penny? - There's a loud, dry echo.

- Get up, you fucking piece of pebble!

After my shout, the mass of sand came into motion and whirled around in a sandy hurricane.

I grab onto a tree and jump back to a safe distance.

Before my eyes, several tonnes of sand turn into a huge humanoid monster with burning yellow eyes.

- You know, where I come from, a fucking piece of pebble is a compliment.

In response, Monster-Marco just growls.

- Penny! - yells it loudly.

Sandy turns around and starts heading towards New York.

"Satisfied, Bearer?"

"Raj, do me a favour," I latch onto a tree, "shut up, please."

I fly through the trees and land on Sandy's shoulder.

- 'Alright Flint, why don't you calm down and we'll talk?

Marco's only response is to kick where I am.

Thankfully, due to his size and slowness, I have no problem dodging that paw.

Hell, for the record, anger is not a good motivator for sand mutants who can't control themselves!

- Okay, Flint, I didn't start this," I fly up and shoot an arctic web at the sandman.

The compound makes contact with the sand, freezing it instantly. A significant chunk of the monster's leg falls off and it falls.

It's a start.

Without giving Marco a moment to recover, I continue to hit the masses of sand with freezing volleys. Flint's sand core is either in the head or the torso, so target the arms and legs. Destroying selected body parts. I've used up two cartridges of Arctic Web out of four. I jump up and in mid-air change thrower mode to sonic boom.

- Don't make me go to the extreme, big guy," I take aim at the Sandman from the web shooters in a tweep-tweep gesture.

The monster stares at me for a while and the sand begins to swirl again.

"Raj, stand by."

"Got it."

The swirling of the sand diminishes and the silhouette of a man forms out of the sand curtain. As he comes closer, I manage to make out a green T-shirt, grey trousers and brown work boots.

- Flint?

- Um, hi," a grey-eyed, russet-haired man in his forties waves at me perplexedly. - I made a fuss, didn't I?

- Don't you remember?

- Honestly, it's all a blur," Marco wipes his eyes, "you started talking about Penny, I got angry, and then...then we started talking.

So the theory holds true, the more substance Sandman starts to take control of, the less he's actually able to control himself.

- Got it. Listen Flint, I've been thinking about your situation, how about this, I'll try to outline the events as I see them, and you listen and then we'll try to come to some sort of decision, how's that for an idea?

Marco only nodded in response.

- Okay, look you're a fugitive, unpleasant but true. On the other hand, after your fall into the pit at the test site, you're technically considered dead. So I suggest you lay low for a while, go to your ex-wife, tell her your story, she's not likely to give you up, a shared child should mean something, you can tell her that Spider-Man vouched for you.

- No, no, no, Emma would never do that, she's a good person," Flint interrupted me, "I'm the one who made the mistakes that broke up our marriage," the sandy one finished sadly.

- Cheer up, Flint, things happen in life. Go to Emma, and I'll look for funds for your daughter, a couple of million dollars will be enough, won't it?

After I said that amount, Marco looked at me full in the eye.

- A couple of million dollars? Yes! Yes, that will be enough, - Marco quickly jumped up to me and grabbed me by the shoulders, - Thank you, thank you very much!

- You're welcome.

- Why are you helping me, Spider-Man? - asked the Sandman a question. - I saw the reports about you in prison, you're a hero with a capital letter, you help people, why waste your time on someone like me?

- To be honest, I don't really want to see you as an enemy," I chuckle. - But to be honest, I know you're not a bad guy, and it's not too late for you to turn down a crooked path. And I can't get past the details of your daughter's illness. Plus, in this day and age, you don't need friends and allies.

- I-" Marco holds out his hand to me, "Thank you, I won't forget this.

- You'll thank me when your daughter's surgery is successful," I return the handshake.