Unspun

#𝟎𝟐 The Way Through the Woods

To Scout, at least. Spencer glowered, but said nothing. Scout stopped only when one of the spiders stepped out of the restaurant, Cross. Cross, known occasionally as Andrew, was one of Dexter's bodyguards, his personal favourite after Gargan and Birdeater. After those two, Cross was the first to know something, if something were ever to be known. Scout stared at his absence for the minute he was gone then, upon his return, looked swiftly away.

He must've spoken to Birdeater outside. Scout watched as Cross turned away, speaking slowly, quietly, over the comms device in his ear. It didn't matter; Scout still caught the words, the ones that mattered:

Spider-Man.

Scout tries to return to her allegro, but it eludes her—everything does. The routine, the ritual, her reality, that fucking restaurant. All she could think about was Spider-Man. Even when Gargan joins them at the table, a hand running through slicked, dirty-blond hair, her mind would not cease, would not stop seeing everything in bright red and blue. Gargan reaching to pour himself a glass of water was a sudden enough movement to snap Scout briefly out of it; her head turning whiplash-fast to look at him, she asked, "Why's Dad late?"

Gargan shrugged, peering into the depths of his glass, "He's taking care of something."

Scout paused. Then, lowering her voice, she spoke again: "Spider-Man?"

Gargan's eyes narrowed, almost comically. "If you have to ask, do I need to bother to answer?"

This was an answer in itself. Gargan seemed to regret the sharpness of his words. He cleared his throat. "Spider-Man knows your father's name."

"How?"

"He was betrayed."

Of course—it had to have been someone on the inside, a spider weak and incapable of keeping a secret. Scout had another sip of water, wishing partly it was Kurayoshi whiskey she was drinking instead. Because the very notion of Spider-Man required self-medication, specifically the premium spirit kind, with the so-called superb tasting notes of freshly buttered bread, toasted oak, vanilla and smoke.

But to understand Spider-Man, and the thread he posed to the Web, one must first understand the Web itself.

DEXTER: Do it over.

SCOUT: Yes sir.

SCOUT: The Web has chapters in almost every major city across the globe, but its three "radials"—

Picture a spider spinning a web in a doorway: imagine its anchor points: the head jamb and its two adjacent sides.

SCOUT: —are located in Osaka, Japan; Saint Petersburg, Russia; and New York City, the United States of America. The NYC base is headed by the Huntsman oversees both the Osaka and Saint Petersburg bases, but there are individuals who report to him and, when he is absence, enforce the Web's core directives, maintain progress, and facilitate continuous improvement.

DEXTER: Who are the current second-in-commands for the Osaka and Saint Petersburg bases?

SCOUT: Miss Jorōgumo supervises Osaka. Following the death of Dreykov at the hands of former Black Widow Natalia Romanova, leadership of Saint Petersburg is shared by Messrs Bury, Vitsin, Sidorov and Stezhenksy.

DEXTER: Correct. Continue.

SCOUT: The Web generates revenue primarily through its proprietary design and provision of high-end, highly-sophisticated weaponry to various international powers. It is also notorious for its personnel; talented, specially-trained individuals who can be hired as enforcers, assassins, and bodyguards at a premium rate. The Web also offers training. It is selective and elite. Unlike our sister training program, the now-decommissioned Red Room, we accept candidates of any gender. Our only requirement for entry is that you must be exceptional—