String Theory

Chapter 5

"Your suit would be best," Karen replies, voice edged with alarm.

"Besides that," he barks, snatching a gauntlet off one of the workbenches. It solidifies around his arm in seconds. The repulsor whines to life, and he lifts his hand towards 018, who's glaring at him through the glass. Karen speaks up. "That gauntlet is a prototype. It's voice activated only."

"Got it," Peter replies, voice higher with fear. Now that he's in the light, Peter can see what's visible of his face. Sharp, hungry blue eyes are offset by a black muzzle that's digging into his skin. He's clad in a black utility suit, with a gun on his hip. 018's gaze is predatorial, and as he sets one hand flat on the glass door, Peter's heart is pounding.

018 curls a fist and strikes the glass once, twice. When it shatters, Peter flinches, moving backwards. 018 stalks through the broken glass, unconcerned with the weapon in his target's grip. Peter doesn't want to use it - doesn't want to kill the man, so he shoves a workbench between them. He's still scrambling backwards, trying to maintain distance. 018 grips the edge of the bench and yanks upwards. Papers go flying and various tools skitter away across the floor, and 018 gives the bench a hard kick. Peter's back hits the wall, and he goes stiff. The lab's a fishbowl. There's nowhere to go. Left with no other choice, Peter shouts, "Go, Karen!"

The lab erupts in a blinding burst of light and sound, and Peter squeezes his eyes shut, grimacing. Not just his repulsor had fired — Karen had activated 12 other gauntlets in the lab. The blasts scald the walls, shatter the glass, and overturn a few of the remaining workbenches. 018 gives a muffled grunt of pain as a few of the blasts batter him. Despite this attack, in the few seconds it takes Peter to open his eyes, 018 has crossed the distance between them. He snatches Peter's unarmed wrist with an iron grip. Enhanced , Peter realizes, panicking. He's as strong as me. 018 yanks him close by the wrist, trying to overpower him, and Peter's feet scuffle on the floor, unable to get a grip. He gives a few hefty jerks backwards, trying to propel himself away, but 018 doesn't let him budge. "Get off! " Peter shouts. He tugs his right hand free, backhands his attacker with the gauntlet, and skitters away. There's a tense pause, and blood glistens in sharp contrast to 018's pale skin, dripping to the muzzle. His gaze sharpens to anger.

"You asked for it, dude!" Peter says, drawing back to punch 018 with the gauntlet. 018 catches Peter's armored fist mid-swing. The metal bends beneath his grip, digging into the skin and tendons, drawing a cry of pain from Peter. He wilts a little under the pressure, trying to keep his wrist from breaking. With blood rushing in his ears and his spidey sense turning his vision white, Peter lets his instincts take over. The tingles rush from his hands to his head, and in a blur of motion, he knees 018 in the crotch, kicks his shin, and elbows his throat. When 018 staggers backwards at the flurry of hits, Peter darts towards the lab's exit, peeling the ruined gauntlet off his hand as he runs. Pain is wracking his hand, throbbing all the way up to his elbow, and blood's dripping from his wounds. He gets to the top of the stairs and shouts, "Karen, call Bucky!"

"Already did, Tony. You stand a better chance if you put on a su – "

Her voice cuts off with the sound of gunfire, and Peter whirls around. Sparks fly from the now inoperable ceiling speakers, showering Peter in white hot sparks. He yelps in pain, backpedaling. 018, at the bottom of the stairwell, levels his gun with Peter as he climbs the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. Peter can hear his heart pounding in his chest, and he's trying to calm his breathing. He raises his hands to show he's not armed, and blood trickles from his hand down to his elbow, dripping to the floor in time with the drizzling rain.

018 keeps his gun up, and uses his left hand to sign out, "Back against the wall."

Peter's gut twists. He knows sign language, and knows what his attacker is ordering. "No," Peter signs back. "No. No — who are you?"