Greetings and Salutations! Before we get into the fic I want you to know this is a combination of Spiderman comics, books, the movie and any other thing I found over the last month pertaining to our favorite wall crawler. I'm what you would call a new fan and am not down with all the nitty gritty details of the Spidey universe. If I do have any mistakes I won't mind you pointing them out to me. Review and point out my mistakes! Come on I don't mind!

Disclaimer: I don't own any Spiderman characters…so don't sue me.


Spiderman smiled to himself under the skintight mask that stretched itself over his face. He was in such a good mood and the feeling of soaring above the streets of New York was exhilarating. It never got old; the feeling of invincibility that came as he shot over the unnoticing heads of the people below him.

Shooting another web to snag the corner of one of the many skyscrapers that spanned the business district he was in, Spiderman swung wide over the boulevard beneath him and revealed in childish amusement as he felt his stomach leap as he dropped the one strand of webbing and allowing himself to drop a few feet before deciding to shot out another strand.

Expelling another string of webbing up to the edge of the tallest building in the area, Spidey pulled himself onto the roof. Crouching on his heels, he settled himself on all fours before leaning into the brisk wind that blew over his body. Closing his eyes behind the shiny eyepieces of his costume, he sucked in a lungful of fresh air-well, as fresh as New York City air was concerned- and sighed a content sigh.

Off on the jagged horizon, hidden behind the numerous silhouettes of buildings, the sun began to sink low and cast a ruby haze and long shadows on the surrounding landscape. Surveying the city spread out before him, Spiderman prepared himself for the night ahead. He was in the mood to beat some punk thief's behind. It wasn't because Spidey was angry or anything, it was just that whenever he was in a good mood, he felt like he needed to put some mischievous criminals behind bars.

And lately his good moods had been more frequent. The main cause of his happiness stemmed from his alter ego, Peter Parker, and Mary-Jane's growing relationship. It had been a few months since the red-haired beauty had poured out her heart to Peter in the cemetery immediately after Norman Osborn's funeral. Talk about a romantic setting…

Peter's apparent rejection at the time had seemed to only encourage MJ's relentless pursuit of the young photographer. Finally, using her last resort, MJ had cornered Peter in his apartment and revealed her knowledge of his double life as New York's wall crawling hero in spandex. And what the kicker had been, was that Mary Jane had come to her conclusion from a kiss!

And now since his secret had been blown wide open, there seemed to be no more reason for him to shun MJ. Accepting the consequences of going out the always on call Spiderman, Peter and MJ had finally found their way to each other.

Spiderman again smiled to himself as he remembered how glad he had been that Harry Osborn had moved out back into his father's estate and had not been present when MJ dropped the bomb. What a fiasco that could have been had Harry been there to overhear…

But things had turned out and now Peter had everything he could possibly hope for in the world; his childhood sweetheart, a somewhat steady income from his sensational photos of his alter ego, and an…interesting after-hours hobby of web swinging. Even the constant media pummeling and berating he had endured since the whole Green Goblin, Dr. Octopus, and Venom incidents couldn't kill his mood. He had never before considered how comforting it was to be able to complain to a sympathetic ear, especially when that ear was attached to the women of his dreams. When he was with MJ, everything in the world was OK.

Shaking himself out of his trance, Spiderman stood straight and again focused on the city below that now lay in varying shades of reds, oranges, and pinks. Tinkering on the edge, Spidey paused before leaping off with a small whoop of joy. 'Let's just hope it's not a quiet night. I'm in the mood for some action,' he thought as he sprayed a strand of sticky web that anchored itself on the opposite building across the street and shot into the growing dusk of the city.

If only the wall-crawling hero knew those would be his famous last words…

"Now, Jonah, we've been friends for how many years? Since college at least?" said J. Jonah Jameson's dinner mate. Looking over his half eaten steak and baked potato dinner, the man regarded the Daily Bugle's editor in chief. The man's hazel eyes sparkled with youthful amusement although he was pushing into his late forties.

The man in front of Jonah was in fact, Donald Collins, New York City mayoral candidate. Pushing his thin-rimmed glasses further onto the bridge of his nose, he waited for Jonah's reaction.

Jonah pulled a tight smile on his face as he leaned back in his plush chair and began to chomp on his ever present cigar. It was clear that their friendly catch-up from their college days was over and was now turning to business. Nodding his head to indicate he agreed with Collins statement, Jonah waited for Collins to continue.

"Well, besides wanting to see you again, Jonah, I need your help with the upcoming election," Collins began as he pushed his dinner plate away from him, " I was hoping to get some support from the Daily Bugle in way of boosting my popularity with the people. Plus, for your help, I have a story that will sell out ever copy of your paper."

"I kind of had the feeling you were going to ask for something like that," JJ mumbled to himself as he considered the proposal and ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, "What kind of story do you have?"

"One that will blow the roof off this city-this country even!" Collins exclaimed in a hushed voice so as not to be overheard.

"Again I'm asking you for some details…" Jonah continued in his usual newsroom tone of authority.

Smiling at his old friend's right-to-the-point attitude Collins whispered, "How much money do you think people would pay to buy your paper to read about the latest government corruption scandal? Let's just say it involves the selling of government intelligence to foreign organizations and black market nuclear and biological weapons."

Now totally interested, Jonah leaned closer over the table to hear Collins continue.

"It appears that a certain government funded company is selling its information away to the highest bidders overseas. By the way it looks, it seems the Middle East is where the information and weapons are being sold to; mostly terrorist organizations and small revolutionist groups in Afghanistan, Iran, and Iraq."

"What kind of information is being sold?" Jonah inquired quickly to get more details.

"Defense, military, and other highly classified information that some crazed radical could find useful in creating problems for the US."

"Who's the company that's doing all this illegal selling?" Jonah asked.

Giving a sly smirk of victory in seeing the editor's full attention in the matter, Collins said, "That's classified unless we have a deal. I want credit for doing all this snooping around I did to find this dirt out. And I know you want to be the first newspaper in the country to have coverage on this story before even the federal government finds out. So what do you say, Jonah?"

Hesitating, Jonah weighed his options. This story could be the turning point for the Daily Bugle that its been needing for some time. He might finally be able to forget about headstrong punks in spandex that patrolled the city and in general, gave him a headache, and be able to turn his attention to government conspiracies and scandals. Just what a good newspaper should report to the public. It was almost too good to be true.

But then there was always the danger involved. Whoever said reporting was a low-risk job was highly mistaken. Any crime boss that found out its little criminal activities were about to be plastered across the front page of a newspaper tended to take matters into his own hands. Jonah had already lost a few good reporters because of that. Still…it was too good of a story to pass up. Plus, it wasn't like there was much he had to do for the information either. He probably would have supported Collins in his campaign even without his sensational story.


With that the two men shook hand and stood to leave the ritzy uptown restaurant. As Collins and Jameson left the restaurant and headed down the street, they failed to notice the dark figure following close behind them.

Dusk was setting in the distance behind the ceiling to floor windows of the elaborate office building. The room was settling into darkness, save for a small table lamp the glowed in the corner of the room. The silence in the room was deafening except for the rhythmic tapping of a set of magnetic metal balls that sat forlornly on the edge of a large desk. Breaking the stillness of the room suddenly, a knock came from the door.

Not waiting for an answer, the person entered the office and shut the door quietly behind him with a soft click.

"Sir, we've just received a phone call from Harper saying he's begun phase 1 of the plan," said the tall well-dressed man in a dark blue business suit that had entered. Standing in front of the large oak desk that was probably worth the value of a small Latin American country, the man addressed his boss who was seated behind the immense expanse of polished wood. "Any more orders?"

"No," replied the man seated behind the desk, "Let's just hope Harper is able to carry out his orders without screwing up. I don't need some nosy mayor wannabe stretching my neck out on the federal government's cutting board just so he's able to win the election. Plus, I have too much money invested into this plan to let anyone mess with it now. Hopefully, by morning this will all be taken care of…"

Jonah, looked over his shoulder for the second time in the past block. Collins sensed his uneasiness and followed his gaze.

"We're being followed, Donald. Don't try to look like you know he's there," Jonah said as he walked a bit faster. Although he would never admit to anyone out loud, the news editor was scared. He had been stalked once before early on in his career when he had been investigating a criminal money laundering scheme and had barely made it out alive. 'Barely' being the key word.

"Are you sure we're being followed? Maybe he's just going the same way we are," Collins suggested as he sped up to catch up with Jameson's brisk pace.

"I hope you use those brains of yours once when you get in office," Jonah growled under his breath. Glancing over his shoulder towards their pursuer, Jonah noticed a flash of light shining off something hidden in the man's coat; a gun.

Becoming nervous, Jonah motioned for Collins to follow him towards a group of other people on the street in front of a large bank plaza. Situating themselves near the group of people waiting for the cross town bus, the two men glanced nervously at each other as the man neared them.

"Act calm," rasped Jameson as the man stepped up behind them.

"Nice move, I wouldn't have given you credit for finding a crowd. But then again, anyone clever enough to find out about my boss's business should be given some credit," the gunman said quietly just so they could hear him. Turning his tone more demanding, the gunman whispered, "You're to walk away slowly and calmly so no one notices us leave. Any sudden movements and I'll blast you."

"Wouldn't that kind of ruin your whole quietly-walk-away plan?" Jameson growled back to the unknown man.

Taken aback for a minute at the older man's smart ass retort, the gunman suddenly thrust the tip of his gun into Jonah's back and hissed, "Get moving, old man."

Wincing from the gun embedded in his kidneys Jameson and Collins slowly began to walk away. As the three began their slow march down the sidewalk, a sudden shrill siren pierced the air. Turning, Jameson and Collins breathed a sigh of relief as a police car came to a halt inches from the sidewalk they stood on.


Spiderman swung deftly over the street below him and vaulted to the rooftop of the opposite building in one fluid motion. Leaping across the cars and pedestrians below, the wall crawler nimbly adhered to another building and skittered across the face of the building to its roof.

Pausing to catch his breath, Spidey stood for the second time that evening to survey the city from above.

"Nothing much tonight, is there?" he said to himself, somewhat disappointed.

Suddenly from two blocks behind his present location, Spiderman heard the loud crack of gun shot. Whirling around to face the noise, he leap to the other side of the rooftop he stood on and looked down below to find the source of the disturbance. In the distance, he could hear the faint murmur of people screaming and shouting. Giving his hip a pat to reassure himself that the camera he always took with him on his nightly patrols was still there, Spiderman prepared to leave.

"Here we go," he cried as he leap off into the abyss and free-falled before shooting out a strand of web and sped towards the noise.


"Damn it, I said get back or I'll shoot them!" screamed the gunman wildly as he waved his fire arm in the air and gestured frantically towards Jameson and Collins that stood with their backs plastered against the wall. Surrounding the men on three sides, circled a ring of police cars and about a dozen policemen that hide behind the open doors of their patrol cars with guns drawn. Behind the police stood a mass of on lookers.

"Put the weapon down and lay on the ground with your hands behind your head. This is your last chance," called one of the policemen over a loud speaker.

Ignoring the threats, the gunman waved his gun again in front of the cornered men beside him. What was he doing? He had had everything under control until that blasted policeman drove up. Apparently the cop had needed directions somewhere. That was before he had noticed the gun…

Two minutes later, they were surrounded and he had had to take hostages. What was suppose to be a simple hit, had turned into a nightmare. To make matters worse, a local TV news station van was idling beside one of the squad cars complete with a reporter and cameraman shooting what he was sure to be 'breaking news.' Lights from the camera crew and patrol cars poured into the wide plaza the hostages and gunman stood, almost blinding them.

"Any way of getting out of here alive?" whispered Collins to Jonah as they pressed their backs closer to the brick wall behind them, "I don't exactly want to be on the eleven o'clock news tonight with the headline: Mayoral Candidate Shot by Criminal Punk."

"Do you ever shut up, Don?" Jonah hissed under his breath as the gunman began pacing close in front of them. The madman had already fired one warning shot to the police in the air, but Jonah doubted the man was going to waste any more bullets as only a warning.

"Where's that wannabe superhero Spiderman you keep plastering nasty things about on the front page of your paper?" Collins asked quietly, "He's the hero around these parts, isn't he?"

"That's what I'm wondering," Jonah growled. That masked freak could always be found whenever you didn't need him, and now that he was in actual need of the arachnid's services he was nowhere in sight. How typical.

Just at that moment, there came a few scattered shouts of surprise and shock as a blur of red and blue flashed overhead of the onlookers and a mangled imitation of a Tarzan cry rang out through the plaza.

Confused by the noise from the gathering crowd, the gunman turned just as a red boot came in contact with his jaw with a squishy thud. Reeling backwards from the blow, the gunman bounced on the pavement several times before coming to a stop in a heap about ten feet from where he had been standing just a moment before.

"I guess he wasn't expecting any company," came an all too familiar voice to Jameson's ears. Looking up from where he had dropped to the ground when his savior had literally swung in, Jonah glared dangerously towards the figure before him.

"Spiderman…" Jonah snarled, venom dripping off every syllable. "I suppose you may have had a hand in this," he continued as he recovered from his initial shock and reverted to his typical slandering ways of somehow finding an angle to blame Spiderman.

"I love you too, JJ," Spidey answered in a humorous tone, ignoring the familiar accusations.

Reaching down to help the two men to their feet, Spiderman was suddenly stung by his spider-sense. Whirling around, Spidey saw the gunman rising to his feet. A tiny stream of blood trickled down his face from his nose where Spiderman's boot had pummeled into.

Thirty feet behind him, police were hurrying towards the fallen man to jump and handcuff him. Spiderman could see the gun was still in his possession. Surveying the situation in a second, Spiderman accessed that the police would not reach the gunman in time.

'Shoot. I should have made sure and webbed him down before turning my back on him,' the wall crawler chided himself harshly for his rashness of assuming the man had been knocked out.

"I can't go back without finishing my orders!" screamed the gunman as he leveled his gun at Collins and Jameson. Without thinking, Spiderman leap to shield the two men from the gun's blast.

"Watch out!" Spidey screamed as he forcefully shoved Jonah and Collins to the ground. Falling into a tangled heap, the two men cowered as a series of shots crashed through the air. Screams followed a second later from the crowd as everyone in the vicinity dropped to the ground to seek cover from any stray bullets.

There was a moment of still silence then that covered the area like a blanket as the gunfire faded away into the night. Rising his head, Jonah saw three cops wrestling down the shooter and practically sitting on the writhing man as they slapped a pair of cuffs on his wrists. Beneath him, Jonah felt Collins shaking his head and pulling himself to his knees. Collins didn't seemed hurt at all. Checking himself over, Jonah gave a sigh of relief in finding that he too was unscathed.

Turning his gaze now towards the crowd, he noticed a number of people who were beginning to stand back up standing mouths agape at the scene. 'Now there's something you don't see everyday…a New Yorker completely dumbstruck.'

It was then that he noticed the news crew that was staring in his direction. The cameraman's mouth was open to the elements even as he managed to keep the twenty pound camera hoisted aloft on his right shoulder and recording. The female reporter stood with her hand over her mouth as she kept her back to the running film and stood looking out into the plaza, eye wide in disbelief. Jonah noted a number of the same reactions mirrored in the rest of the crowd and surrounding police officers.

'What's wrong with them? It's like they've never seen an attempted shooting before,' Jameson though in confusion. But then another thought struck him. Turning to look over his shoulder, the hardened editor stifled a gasp as his cigar slipped from between his lips and fell to the pavement.

"Oh God," whispered Collins beside him as he followed Jonah's gaze.

Leaning far back against the wall behind him, Spiderman stood clutching his chest. Blood seeped between his gloved fingers to the ground in small puddles. A rattling groan came from behind his mask as the web swinger's knees buckled beneath him and slowly sunk to the ground, still grasping his chest and leaning against the brick work. On the wall, smeared a thick streak of blood along with a collage of spatters of other crimson droplets that marred the rough surface of the wall.

Slumping into a heap on the pavement, Spiderman issued another moan, only this time more like a chocked back scream of pain. There was a moment of deafening silence before the area suddenly erupted into a roar of shouts.

Jonah became disoriented as a pair of police officers suddenly rushed forward and helped them to their feet and his surroundings became chaotic. A small group of officers had begun to congregate around the fallen spider. One began shouting an alarm through his shoulder walkie talkie to his dispatcher, "We have a shooting at the United Federal Bank on the corner of 17th and Main. Paramedic assistance needed immediately. We have Spiderman down as a casualty. Repeat. Spiderman down. Ambulance assistance needed immediately."

It was in that moment, as J. Jonah Jameson stood staring down at the fallen figured splayed out before him on the ground, he began to see the bleeding man before him in a different light. Not as the masked vigilantly he had always pasted on the headlines, but as a brave man willing to step in front of a bullet for another.

"He saved us. He took the bullets," Collins muttered in disbelief as he was lead away by an officer, "Maybe you should put that in tomorrow's paper." Jonah remained motionless as he watched the unfolding drama before his eyes.

Spiderman stifled another gurgled scream of agony weakly as two of the officers began to apply pressure to bleeding bullet holes that had ripped through his lower chest and stomach and exited through his back. His vision was beginning to tunnel from the loss of blood and the most probable chance of internal damage. The background noise began to blend together as Spiderman felt his eyelids threatening to slide shut against his will. Convulsions of cold shook the wall crawlers debilitated body as the chill of the night began to cut through the thin spandex of his costume. 'Body's going into shock,' he thought to himself as his scientific mind took over and began to recall high school biology lessons of the human body.

'Can't black out…Can't black out," he chanted in his head to keep from falling unconscious. Trying to stay awake, the web swinger tried to focus his attention on the news crew that stood not far off where the reporter rapidly shot words at the camera and motioned over her shoulder in the direction of himself. Every now and then, he could pick out his name over the roar of the crowd that clustered behind a hasty blockade created by NY's finest. The place seemed utterly chaotic as a swarm of activity buzzed around him.

"Spiderman! Spiderman, can you hear me? I need you to talk to me. We can't see if you're still awake or not, so unless you want that mask of yours off, ya need to keep talking," coaxed a young officer with blond hair, "The ambulance is on its way. Just hold on."

"I've never gotten this type of pampering before," Spiderman chocked out as his head was gently lifted up by another officer and placed on someone's bundled coat to make it more comfortable on the cold pavement, "Maybe I should do this more often."

"Always the smart-ass I see," responded the blond officer in a friendly tone.

"Just trying to make things bearable through humor," Spidey rasped. He could taste the distinct metallic taste of blood in his mouth now. Amongst the bustling activity centered around him, Spiderman could smell the overwhelming stench of fresh gore that was seeping from his own body. From the recesses of his mind, past images of his Uncle Ben flashed before his eyes of when the old man had been laying on the ground just as Spiderman was now. Funny it seemed to the web swinger how things seemed to have come full circle.

"How bad is it?" Spiderman questioned in a gurgled whisper.

"Oh…not that bad," replied the officer in his most convincing voice after a moment of hesitation. Despite his best efforts though, Spiderman knew the officer was lying between his teeth. Seeing that Spiderman was unconvinced, he added morbidly, "There're three bullet wounds. Two appear to have exited clean through the back and you're losing a lot of blood."

Spidey remained silent as he waited for the information to sink in. Somehow the old saying of 'play with fire long enough and you'll be sure to get burnt' rang true to him now. How many times did he make it out of a fight with his life…More then he could count, that was for sure. Maybe he had just run out of his nine lives- or however many lives a spider was suppose to have.

In the distance, the howl of the ambulance began to draw nearer. Spiderman lay motionless as he caught glimpses of the crowd parting for the paramedic team that towed behind them a gurney loaded high with medical equipment. As the paramedics rushed towards Spidey, the officers that had been trying to keep the bleeding down moved obediently out of the way for the medical team.

Kneeling beside the bleeding man, the one female paramedic quickly produced a pair of medical scissors from her bag and in one motion sliced Spiderman's shirt open from his neck to waist, exposing the deep holes in his chest and stomach.

"Hey! These costumes don't grow on trees you know," Spidey muttered as the medic continued stripping the upper portion of his body free of his blood soaked clothing. Ignoring his comment, the second medic began unpacking a small mountain of plastic tubes and miscellaneous other tools of his trade as his partner deftly inserted an IV line the soft skin of Spiderman's hand.

"I need to lift your mask away from your mouth, Spiderman," said the one medic as he grasped the lower portion of the red mask and waited for an acknowledgment from the wall crawler. Seeing the wall crawler hesitate he stated, "Don't worry. I'm not going to get paid for revealing your secret identity. I just get paid to make sure you don't die on me."

"If your going to be like that, then fine," Spidey replied weakly as his mask was slowly folded over the bridge of his nose and an oxygen mask fitted snugly over his mouth and nose. He knew the crowd and especially the news crew was focused in on his face now since it had been partially exposed.

Oh, well its not like anyone can identify somebody just by their jaw line…or can they? What ever happened to his camera he had set up overlooking the plaza? There were probably some really good shots of him swinging in and knocking the gunman away. It would probably be awhile before he could retrieve it though…assuming he was going to live to worry about it. JJJ was probably going to blow a gasket for Peter not coming in with pictures of Spiderman finally being squashed like the bug he was, in Jonah's opinion. Shaking himself away from his meandering thoughts, Spidey realized it was not the proper time for such thoughts.

As he felt the rush of air in the oxygen mask turn on, Spiderman felt his senses begin to go fuzzy. 'Come on, Spidey, keep it together," he thought desperately to himself conscious. Despite the buzzing activity around him, the world began to slow and dim around him.

"Hey, come on bug, stay with me!" called the medic loudly as saw the sudden slack in muscle tone of his patient. Receiving no answer, the two medics looked at each other before simultaneously jumping into action. Working together as one, the two hoisted the limp body onto the gurney and strapped the unconscious superhero down. Holding the IV bag high over her patient, the paramedic shouted for a lane to be cleared as the two ran headlong into the throng of people towards the waiting ambulance.

J. Jonah Jameson stood fixated in his spot as he watched emotionlessly the paramedics shove the stretcher into the back of the van, it's occupant bumping almost lifelessly aboard, as the medics slammed the door behind them after filing in after the gurney. As the ambulance pulled away from the curb and turned its sirens on, a small mob of people flowed into the street to watch as the vehicle sped away towards the hospital.

A storm of thoughts thundered in Jameson's mind as he followed the van with his gaze as far as he could before it weaved quickly through traffic and sharply turned around a corner and out of sight.

What had happened? Did he just imagine this whole thing? Jameson asked himself. Turning his attention back to the side of the plaza, the sight of drying blood spattered grotesquely on the wall and the smears of crimson littering the ground assured Jonah that had was not been a dream. Spiderman had saved him. He had stepped in front of the bullets aimed at the one man who had devoted the later portion of his life to destroying the web crawlers name.

For the first time in his life, Jameson felt a twinge of doubt and regret for what he had done and thought for sure he was right in doing. At that moment came a loud call, "Sir! Sir! Any comment for what just happened here?" It was the woman reporter with her cameraman in tow jogging towards him.

Blinking back the bright light that shined in his face from the mounted light bulb on the camera, Jonah stifled a berating comment to the cameraman and faced the reporter who was shoving a microphone within inches of his face. "What are your reactions to Spiderman's actions tonight?"

Pausing, Jonah tried to decide how to answer the question that had been festering in the recesses of his mind for some time. Finally deciding he answered in a level, curt voice, "Spiderman did the ultimate sacrifice of risking his life to save another. I am grateful for his unselfish decision." With that Jameson turned and stalked away, leaving the reporter staring at his back. His emotions clashing between loathing for now being indebted to the pesky insect and feelings of gratitude towards the wall crawler.

Behind him, Jonah heard the reporter recover from his sudden departure and begin talking into the camera again to the newscasters seated halfway across town in the studio, "There you have it, Stacy. I have just been told, by authorities, that Spiderman has been taken to St. John's Hospital. We will have more on his condition and more comments from on-lookers in a minute…." Jonah didn't care to listen to the rest of the reporter's high voice ramble on anymore and moved away into the night.


Watching the TV on the far side of the room, the man sat in contemplation at the breaking news of the incident that had taken place across town. Blending into the shadows of the room, the boss' crony shifted his weight between his feet nervously.

"Sir, do you want me to send out another hit-man to finish the job?" asked the man as he clenched and unclenched his hands nervously.

Folding his hands to form a small platform with his fingers, the man rested his head on his fists as he broke his attention away from the TV screen, "No. Collins and that annoying newspaper editor will be too closely guarded now. It's a pity Harper failed, but he managed to make the night somewhat worthwhile. He may have inadvertently removed the one person that could cause me the most problems in the near future. It is a shame though that that damn spider had to go out in a blaze of heroics…I hoped to kill him myself in some back alley. But we can't all have what we want can we?"

The other man gulped nervously, making his Adam's apple bob up and down on his throat. "Mr. Osborn, are there any other orders?"

Turning his gaze to the jumpy man, Harry Osborn said, "Yes. Send out somebody to permanently silence Harper. I don't want him telling the police about my little business deals here. I have an important meeting tomorrow with some go-betweens with the Iran government and I don't want to be disturbed by any boys in blue."

"Yes Sir," the man replied as he turned to leave.

"Oh, and one more thing," Harry called after the man, " I also want you to send out another hit to finish off Spiderman. I have a special interest that he doesn't check out of that hospital…"

To be continued……

Note from author: Hey if you liked the fanfic you just read, review! Please please please please! I love reviews! Thanks. Look for another chapter soon!