________ POV
His side still hurts.
It's only been a few days since his orders to take out the jungle kid and the wound he'd received in return wasn't healed up yet. Which was aggravating. It was bad enough training with gremlins of pain eating away at his ribs, he didn't need it while he was out on the job too. Besides, it was getting colder and the decreasing temperature made it feel even worse.
The aches and pains were like a relentless stick poking his eye, reminding him of his mistake with each new shove into his pupil. All the training and preparing he's done before the mission was useless, because no matter how many agents he fought off and strategies he memorized, he still hadn't been expecting the jungle kid to snag him the way he did. They liked reminding him of it too and it only rubbed more salt in the wound. His superiors were not happy with his performance and it'd be a while before he was back in their good graces. If he could even call it good graces. The relationship between him and those above him was built strictly on the fundamentals of "Go there. Go here. Kill that," Which he did, every time, without fail. He did everything they told him to when they wanted him to do it, and usually, he did a good job.
Except for three days ago when a knife was shoved into his side.
It was a real shame jungle kid already left for the Savage Lands. He would've loved to make it even.
But he reasons that his superiors can't be too disappointed in him. He wouldn't be staking out on the rooftops of lower Manhattan otherwise. His mission, however, was far from ideal in his opinion. He was a little surprised, and admittedly, irritated when they ordered him to follow the SHIELD Academy students on their patrols again. Trailing them while they "served the people" was dull, and when it wasn't dull he was getting stabbed, which, okay, he'd been trying to stab the jungle kid too, but that was beside the point. Watching them punch bad guys and squabble with each other got old, even when he had a legit mission to go with it. But if he meant redeeming himself, he'd followed them right back to the Tricarrier and infiltrate SHIELD if he had too. He had been proud of the reputation he'd built for himself among his cohorts, so having it all crumbling down after one mission was a heavy blow to his pride.
It also meant he was itching to attack something. The anger simmering in his gut was the kind that threw punches first and never asked questions, and he'd be glad to slice up a few of those students to relieve frustration building in his stomach. But he was given strict orders to follow ONLY, do not engage in all means necessary or he'd regret it.
So following he did and it was boring.
It was normal for them to patrol in a group, but they were also fond of splitting up to cover more ground. But ever since his attack on their comrade, he was both pleased and smug to find, that they've begun patrolling together more, so he supposed that his mishap hadn't been a complete waste. Besides, it was hard trying to keep tabs on all of them when they decided to make New York their free-for-all playground. It was easier to do his job this way.
There were four students on patrol today, one more than usual. He focused on each of their faces, names flashing through his brain, followed by a list of their powers and the best way to take them down.
The tall muscled one with the black and white spider symbol. Agent Venom. Strength: symbiote - living creature. Assets: webs, super strength, danger-sense. Aggressive. Dangerous. Weaknesses: Electricity, fire, and vibrations.
Grey and black one with the hood, hovering off the ground, glowing eyes. Cloak. Assets: teleportation. Spontaneous. Random. Good for escape. Best way to take him down would be to hit fast and hit hard. Take him out when he's stunned. No more escape.
Flying one. Blue aura. Gold, red, and black colors. Helmet. Nova. Shoots highly concentrated beams of energy. Arrogant. Wisecrack. Fast. Really fast. Like Cloak, it'd be best to hit him faster. Knock the helmet off of him and take him out when he's defenseless.
The tall one, very muscley, yellow, grey, and black colors. Powerman. Super strong. Invulnerable skin. Fast, but not too fast. Dangerous. Don't let him get you. Keep a distance. Hitting hard wouldn't work as well in this case. Get him isolated from the group, keep him busy. Trap him.
They were all stopped on a building, taking a break from a long night of busting a car chase, stopping several muggings, and an attempted sexual assault. They looked relaxed, but their shoulders were too tense to pass off as calm. He noticed every glance shot over their shoulder, and the skeptical looks they cast toward the shadows.
They were expecting him.
But none of that mattered because his new target wasn't even there anyway. The capsule's stuck on his wrists seemed to weigh on his arms, weighing more like a ton than a few ounces, and he left them pressed to his side so he didn't jostle the temperamental cargo. The serum made him nervous. All cautious tingles that never ceased because he wasn't trying to get away from it or fix the problem. It made his fingers twitch and his wrists want to flex and left anxiety hiding in the joints of his arms, ready to jump at a moments notice.
If this serum got on him...
Frustrated, and a tad nervous, he held out his arms a little, curling them around his stomach and curled away from the ledge he'd peeping from, huddling farther into the shadows. The cover cast by the water tower was appreciated. It didn't matter that he was several buildings away from the Academy students, he didn't want any chance of getting his cover blown. Despite mapping out their odds and ends, a direct attack was only if things got really bad, and his superiors would feed HIM the serum if things got that bad. So, no. Incognito was the way to go.
He grabbed the small screen stuck to his side, turning the smooth glass surface to his front where a masked face glared back at him. He held down the little button in the top corner, the only one on the entire device, and waited a few seconds before letting it go. The tablet hummed as it was taken over and turned on a moment later. The picture was fuzzy and static-y at first but evened out the brighter it got. A face appeared, blown up across the screen and not very happy to see him.
"Target's not here," he told the face.
"How unfortunate, vor you," the face responded coldly. "And vhat do you plan to do about it?"
He shuffled uncomfortably, butt already getting numb from the rough gravel laid out on the rooftop, as his fingers curled around the edge of the screen. "I'll...keep staking out the team." He said slowly.
The face smiled. Not necessarily a happy one, but the one a teacher might use when the dimwit finally got the right answer after 10 minutes of explaining. "Very good," it approved. "Then you better get going. Keep that serum safe, your it vill not end vell for you."
"Yes sir, Arnim Zola." He replied, stiff without meaning too. "I'll keep staking out Academy students. I'll report as soon as they leave back for the Tricarrier."
"And keep out of sight," Arnim Zola elaborated, eyes boring into his dark lenses. "We vouldn't vant another incident like last to happen, vould we Scarlet Spider?"
Scarlet shook his head, feeling the angry pressure on his wound heighten. "No Sir, we wouldn't." It comes out through grit teeth, but Arnim Zola doesn't comment on it. Maybe he didn't notice.
"Hail Hydra." He says.
"Hail Hydra." Scarlet responds, and the screen goes black again, leaving him cast in shadows once more. He stuck it back against his thigh, webbing it down so it didn't go anywhere, and crawled back over to the ledge. The students haven't left yet.
The screen felt too warm against his skin - even through the suit - the capsule sent tingles of danger up his neck, and his target wasn't here. Iron Fist hadn't been out on patrols yet, so Scarlet knew he was bound to show up sooner than later, but he wished he'd show up faster.
The sooner he tagged Iron FIst with the serum the sooner he could get these liquid bombs off his wrists. It was the best job they had for him since his previous target was living it up in the Savage Lands. But he figured he couldn't complain. Whether KaZar got away or not, the result would be the same. Arnim Zola already had someone else on the task of taking him out.
For now, it meant Scarlet got to mold himself into the building ledge, dig his knees into the gravel, and wait. Silently watching. Observing. Mapping out all the different routes he could take to pick them off, one-by-one, till no one but those mutated "heroes" were left.
He couldn't wait to see them get what was coming to them, and boy was it on its way.
Welcome to the war, Scarlet. I'm happy you've finally arrived. C:
EXTRA NOTES! I have posted the final chapter to my original short story, "Inmates: X-227" and I have also published another one-shot based on a picture I drew in my art book (hint: its an au involving Peter and a couple of spider-themed kitties). So you guys can go check that out too XD
Looks like things are spicing up here around the Academy! HEeeheeheehee! I'm so excited! :D
-OfficalUSMWriter out!