A New Kind of Spider - Marvel: Earth-USB Saga (Part 28)

[tirepanted3]

Hi, everyone. The following story is a continuation of the sprawling Marvel USB saga begun by Rufusluciusivan over on his story page (for which I've contributed a few chapters and some story ideas in the past). The saga, as some of you are probably aware, takes place in an alternate version of the Marvel universe and incorporates many characters from the Marvel comics and related media. No need to worry if you haven't been keeping up with all the previous chapters - this chapter is the start of a new Marvel story arc that was set up in the "Circus Tricks" storyline which Rufus posted earlier this year, along with the standalone Black Widow chapter I posted on my page.

For reference, the Black Widow story can be read here. The three chapters of the "Circus Tricks" story can be read here, here, and here. (I would at least recommend reading Act 3, which this chapter directly follows.)

Much appreciation to Rufus for letting me continue the saga; I hope I can do it justice.

Please enjoy. This first chapter is a little shorter than usual, but the next ones should be longer and more detailed as this new saga builds up and forward.

(Character references, when applicable, can be found in the second post.)




---------------------------


The corridor was cold, lifeless metal.

Camilla shivered.

She sat on the bench, staring up at the HYDRA logo emblazoned on the door in front of her. The logo of the organization she had pledged her life to.

The organization that she had just disappointed.

Never in her twenty-one years had Camilla felt so afraid.

The metal doors slid open, and two other agents in HYDRA uniforms walked out – a burly man and a muscular woman. They approached the shivering Camilla.

“The boss will see you now,” the man said.

Camilla gulped. “Please… it was all a mistake. I didn’t mean to…”

“Save the speeches and get up,” the woman interrupted.

Camilla closed her mouth and stood up. Though she wore a HYDRA uniform herself, the light-skinned, dark-haired young woman felt vulnerable and out of place.

The two other agents led her wordlessly through the door and down an additional corridor that was colder than the last one. Eventually, they reached their destination.

The door slid open as if expecting them. They walked inside.

The room they now stood in was adorned with HYDRA regalia and symbols, with antiques stretching back decades. At the center of the room was a green metal desk. Seated behind this desk was the woman Camilla had prayed she would never be summoned to meet.

The woman stood. She was tall and slender, though with obvious muscle to her figure. She had light skin, green eyes, and dark green hair. She wore a dark green figure-hugging jumpsuit with a high neck and bare shoulders, dark green opera-length gloves, and light green knee-high boots. A pair of light green weapons belts crisscrossed her waist, and a pair of holstered guns were strapped to her thighs.

The woman’s name was Ophelia Sarkissian, but no one in her employ dared use that name. To the world, she was known as the ruthless terrorist Viper; to the subordinates of the organization, she was known as Madame Hydra.

“Agent 631,” the woman said in a cold voice. “Or do you prefer Camilla Bonchance?”

Camilla gulped again. “M… Madame Hydra… Please forgive me…”

“Camilla Bonchance,” Madame Hydra continued. “You were stationed outside the Westchester compound on the night of the fifteenth.”

It was a statement, not a question. Still, Camilla couldn’t help but fearfully nod.

“You were assigned to guard the perimeter of the building,” Madame Hydra assessed. “Yet when our agents located you in the early morning hours, you were bound and gagged in some bushes, in a rather undignified state of undress.”

“It… wasn’t my fault!” Camilla blurted out. “I was ambushed… She knocked me out, stole my uniform….”

Madame Hydra held up a hand for silence. “I know the excuses, Agent 637. So many henchwomen use them. Perhaps they work on other bosses, but at HYDRA, we hold ourselves to a higher level of professionalism and capability.”

“But… it was the Black Widow… She’s an Avenger… I wasn’t trained to combat her…”

“Enough excuses,” Madame Hydra snapped. “The Black Widow was able to use your costume to infiltrate our facility and steal a most valuable resource. Had you been more alert, this never would have happened.”

There were tears in Camilla’s eyes. “Please… please spare me.”

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you,” Madame Hydra intoned. “We’re short-handed at the moment, and with the power vacuum that recently opened up with the fall of Orchis, HYDRA needs all the followers it can get. You will just be… reassigned.”

She turned to the two officers who had brought Camilla into the office. “Escort this woman to the laboratory. She will make a good test subject while our scientists perfect their new chemical weaponry.”

Camilla’s eyes widened. “No… No, please…”

The two guards grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her from the room. “Please, don’t… Please, I…”

The door slid shut.

Madame Hydra reached for her phone and pressed a button. “Where were we?”

A woman’s voice answered. “You mentioned the Black Widow.”

“Indeed. Natasha Romanoff stole something of mine. I want it back, and I want her dead. Can you handle that?”

“Of course. I’ve already begun searching for her.”

“Make it fast.” Madame Hydra hung up.

Her instructions resonated in her caller’s ear – find the Black Widow.

What neither woman realized, however, was that they were searching for the wrong Black Widow.

*********************





It’s tough to be a reporter in New York these days. Just ask Norah Winters.

She would tell you how tough her night is going – that is, if she could. She’s a little indisposed at the moment.

Right now, Norah Winters is unconscious and lying in some bushes, dressed only in a white full-cup bra and pink knickers. She’s bound and gagged with strips of clothes that have been torn up and rendered into binding material by yours truly. She’s napping away while I put on her clothes.

Hey, it’s her fault for looking like me.

Norah is a white woman with blue eyes and chin-length blonde hair. And – most fortunately for me, less so for her – she’s just about my size. She’s exactly the type of woman whose identity I need to “borrow” for the next few hours.

Sorry, babe. Hope the neck chop didn’t hurt too much.

I put on Norah’s violet blazer over the black T-shirt I’ve already donned. I’m also wearing her blue mesh jeans and black booties. The grunge look feels very Nineties, but who am I to judge? At least she had a cute light brown bracelet and metal wristwatch; I swiped those as well.

Once I’ve finished putting on her clothes, I take a moment to recompose myself.

My name is Yelena Belova. I’m known as the Black Widow – the real Black Widow, no matter who says otherwise. But for the next few hours, until I reach the airport, my name is Norah Winters.

I glance down at the real Norah. The clothes I tore up to bind her with were stolen from a college girl on Avengers Campus. I wonder if they found that girl yet. Hopefully she’s still asleep… I still regret using the last of my knockout darts to put her to sleep.

I check my watch – formerly Norah’s watch. There should be a flight leaving JFK Airport for Moscow in about two hours. If I hurry, I can make it…

I open Norah’s handbag and glance at its contents – a gleaming silver cube. The Chaos Cube.

It took a lot of work for me to steal this thing, but it will soon all be worth it. Once I get back to Russia, my former superiors in the Red Room will have no choice but to admit that I am the greatest Black Widow of all. No choice but to welcome me back into their country, and their espionage program, with open arms.

I pull Norah’s car keys out of the handbag and smile.

I’ve got a flight to catch.

******************

It takes about thirty minutes for Norah’s car to reach the outskirts of the city. Pretty soon I can see the lights from the flight towers in the distance. I’m almost at the airport.

Then my headlights pick up a woman on the road just ahead. She flags me down.

As I slow the car to a stop, she gives me a stern look, motioning for me to roll down the window. “ID, please.”

The woman is tall and light-skinned, with brown eyes and blonde hair that brushes just past her shoulders. She’s dressed in a skintight white jumpsuit with black gloves, black boots, and a black weapons belt complete with holstered gun and taser. I dislike her already.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Special Agent Olivia Hook,” she responds. (Not that I asked her name…) “I’ve been authorized by SHIELD to check all the cars along this road… We’re on the lookout for a dangerous criminal.”

Dangerous? Moi? I’m flattered.

“Identification, please,” the agent says sternly.

I ignore her rude tone and give her a sunny smile. “Norah Winters, journalist for the Front Line. Out on the trail for a story.”

“May I see your ID?” Agent Hook asks.

I maintain a casual smile as I reach for Norah’s ID card. “Sure.”

It’s getting dark out, and in the dim lighting, I should look enough like poor Norah to fool Agent Barbie.

She takes the ID and examines it closely, then glances back at me.

“Problem?” I ask innocently.

She stares at me for a moment. Briefly, her brown eyes glow a bright shade of purple.

Uh-oh.

If my research on superpowers is right, purple eye glowing equals telepathy. Olivia Hook is a telepath. And she’s reading my mind!

Olivia reaches for her sidearm. I have to move fast.

In one quick movement, I kick the door open, knocking it right into her leg. It throws her off-balance as I somersault out of the car and into the dirt at the side of the road.

“You…!” She glares at me, and her eyes glow again.

She’s trying to mind-control me, get me to stop moving.

When that doesn’t work, a confused expression crosses her face.

Joke’s on you, sweetheart. I’m still wearing my reflective contact lenses.

Before I met with Ringmistress (or the woman I assumed was RIngmistress – she was actually that Hawkeye girl, long story) earlier today, I knew to take precautions around her and her mind-controlling hat. These lenses protected me from falling under her mind-control spells. And it looks like they’ve just saved me again.

I keep my eyes focused on Olivia’s belt as I charge at her. That taser is just what I need.

She dodges what she assumes is a head-on attack, but that’s a mistake. Leaves herself wide open for me to grab her taser. And that’s exactly what I do.

Olivia’s eyes widen in shock.

I focus on the vulnerable spot on her neck, pressing down with the taser.

“Urrggkkk!” Agent Olivia Hook freezes for a moment as the electricity courses through her body. Then she crumples to the ground.

I take a moment to catch my breath, and glance down at the unconscious SHIELD agent.

Sending a telepath after me? That’s cheating, Natasha.

Nearby, I can see Olivia’s motorcycle. A souped-up two-wheeler with the SHIELD logo on the handlebars. Nick Fury spares no expense for his agents.

I look down at my own clothes – the ones I lifted from Norah about an hour ago. They’re now dirty and grimy, what with me having just tumbled through the mud.

Then I look down at Olivia, whose white uniform is still rather spotless. It’s only now that I notice – much like with Norah – we kind of look alike.

My philosophy when I’m on the run: Keep moving, and keep changing clothes. And vehicles, if I get the chance.

Good thing you’re unconscious, Olivia. If you could read my mind now, you wouldn’t be too happy…

****************

Twenty minutes later, I’ve once again “joined” the ranks of SHIELD, though in a slightly different uniform than the previous one I’d stolen.

I zip the white jumpsuit up to my neck, then pull on the black gloves and boots and snap the black belt around my waist. My hair is a few inches shorter than Olivia’s, and my eyes are blue instead of brown, but the uniform itself should compensate for any discrepancies.

I’ve already steered Norah’s car off the road and behind some bushes. I take a peek into the trunk of the car – which currently contains one Agent Olivia Hook, stripped to her pink sports bra and black boyshorts. I’ve used some blue jumper cables from the car to tie her up and a scrap of Norah’s black T-shirt to gag her.

“As the Americans say – good night, Gracie.”

Or do they actually say that? No matter. I shut the trunk, then make my way over to Olivia’s motorcycle. I hop aboard and gun the engine.

Now, where was I? Oh yes.

Flight to catch.

****************

Minutes later, my motorcycle pulls up to JFK International airport.

The guard at the gate gives me no trouble once I flash my SHIELD badge. Like I figured, the uniform does most of the heavy lifting.

As I figured, the airport is crawling with security – not just the usual guards, but other SHIELD agents as well. Some in the standard black uniforms, others in white uniforms like the one I’m wearing.

I wonder if the ones in white are other telepaths. To stay on the safe side, I’d better, er, “shield” my thoughts and keep the contact lenses in.

The airport is pretty busy this evening. I survey the area, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

It’s been a few years since I was last at this airport. I remember that day well… the first time I ever laid eyes on Natasha Romanoff.

Well, more or less. I was spying on her through the reflection in my compact mirror. I was young back then, early twenties and eager to prove myself to the Red Room. Natasha had been tasked by SHIELD to retrieve a deadly weapon from a foreign country. I had been assigned by the Red Room to follow her and steal the weapon for them. It was a perfect double opportunity – prove myself to my superiors, and show up Natasha Romanoff, the so-called “true” Black Widow.

That day marked my first-ever uniform theft in the field, too. A young flight attendant who happened to step into the Ladies’ Room not far from my stakeout position. I left her bound and gagged in a stall while I boarded the plane in her uniform. Easy stuff.

The rest of the mission didn’t go quite as smoothly. But I’m older now. Smarter. And I’ve got the Chaos Cube. And Natasha isn’t going to best me this time.

The flight itinerary tells me that Flight 732 leaves to Moscow in two hours. I don’t have a ticket. But if I can find another flight attendant my size, I won’t need one.

I duck into a restroom and look around. Empty… for the moment.

I pick a stall at the far end and slip inside, shutting the door behind me. I peek out through a crack, waiting.

Most of the women who enter and leave the restroom over the next thirty minutes are not flight attendants, and the ones who are tend to be in pairs, chatting excitedly with one another as they prepare for their next flight.

I’m about to reconsider my plan when the door swings open again, and a lone woman walks in.

She’s tall and slim, with light skin, dark eyes, and chin-length straw-blonde hair. She’s wearing a violet-blue uniform jacket with a dark blue collar, a white button-down shirt, a black knee-length skirt, and black high heels.

The uniform is very similar to the one I stole the last time I was at this airport. The only difference is that the previous flight attendant I mugged wore a striped red-and-yellow bowtie. This one instead has a light blue ascot tied around her neck.

Okay. At least this one knows how to accessorize.

The flight attendant’s phone rings. She picks it up, cradling it in her shoulder as she heads for the sink.

“Yes, this is Vicki… Sorry, I’m running a little late. Got held up at a conference. Have to be on the Moscow flight within the hour…”

The Moscow flight! The last piece snaps into place. Oh Vicki, darling, you are a gift from heaven.

Now I just need her within striking distance.

I clear my throat, speaking in a helpless, vaguely ditzy voice. “Er… excuse me? Can someone help?”

Vicki glances in the direction of the stall where I’m situated. “Something wrong, honey?”

“This stall is out of toilet paper,” I say. “Is there any way you could…?”

“Of course.” Vicki smiles and reaches into the cupboard under the sinks, retrieving a spare roll of toilet paper. She walks to the far end of the restroom where my stall is, holding out the roll.

“Here you go. Can I give you anything else?”

I open the stall and smile. “Indeed you can, but it’d be easier if I just take it.”

With that, I swiftly reach out and grab Vicki’s ascot, yanking the startled flight attendant into the stall. The door swings shut behind us.

The flight attendants at this airport haven’t gotten any better at self-defense since the last time I “borrowed” one of their uniforms. Poor Vicki doesn’t stand a chance.

Once she’s unconscious, I check outside quickly to make sure the remainder of the restroom is still empty.

Then I lock the door and get to work separating the flight attendant from her uniform.

Gotta say, by this point, it’s getting a little dull stripping blondes of their clothes. Once I’m clear of Natasha and SHIELD’s prying eyes, I’m gonna make sure my next clothing donor is a brunette.

Still, I can’t deny that Vicki’s uniform is exactly what I need. Before long, I’ve reduced her down to her aqua-green underwire bra and matching bikini panties.

I secure her to the toilet seat and gag her with some duct tape I pulled from the restroom cabinet, just like I did the last flight attendant. Hey, if it worked once!

Then I slip into her uniform, donning the shirt, skirt, jacket, and heels. I tie the ascot around my neck with a professional knot. Yes, this definitely beats the bowtie.

I exit the stall and use some lipstick from Vicki’s handbag – now my handbag – to scrawl “OUT OF ORDER” on the door. That should keep her safe and quiet for a while.

I slip the lipstick back into the handbag, right next to the Chaos Cube.

Next stop, Flight 732.

*****************

I feel lighter than air before I even get near the terminal. This is too easy.

I pass by a SHIELD agent speaking into her radio. “Yes, I was told her name is Norah Winters… We’re relaying a description of her clothes to all available units.”

Ha! These people are incompetent. I’m two steps – and two disguises – ahead of them.

As I near the terminal, a security guard stationed outside the doorway notices my flight attendant uniform.

“Flight 732?” I ask.

The security guard is taller than average. She’s got light skin and dark, curly brown hair that reaches her shoulders. Her uniform consists of a light blue button-down shirt, dark blue pants, black loafers, and dark sunglasses.

I can’t read her eyes behind those glasses, but she nods. “Flight crew takes the side entrance.”

She juts her thumb out in the direction of another doorway nearby. A grey metal door marked “Staff Only.”

Weird… I don’t remember that protocol the last time I infiltrated this airport.

But I don’t want to give this woman any reason to cast suspicions on me. I smile politely and walk towards the side door.

The door leads to a dimly lit hallway that’s lined with other doors. About twenty feet away, a janitress mops the floor.

This doesn’t seem like the right entrance… I wonder if I should turn around.

The janitress looks up. “Need some help?”

She’s a tall, slim woman with light skin and reddish-orange hair. She’s dressed in a dark green zippered jumpsuit and brown boots.

“Is this the way to the planes?” I ask. “Flight 732, specifically…”

For a moment, I detect an odd glint in the woman’s green eyes.

“About time,” she says.

Before I can ask what she means, the woman pulls out a gun and aims it at me.

I don’t have time to dodge before the dart hits my neck. I stagger backwards in shock.

The woman smiles wickedly. “This is too easy.”

At once, I feel anger well up inside me. I don’t know who this woman is – but she’s about to regret crossing the Black Widow.

I brush the dart from my neck and lunge at her, grabbing the lapels of her uniform.

“Who are you? Answer, or I’ll have you cleaning the floor without that mop!”

It’s not my best quip, I know… I think she must have drugged me. It’s making me dizzy, affecting my banter.

The redhead simply grins. “You’re too late, Blondie. Sleep tight.”

Before I can react, she break free of my grip, then trips me up and sends me sprawling to the floor.

I try to get up, but my limbs feel heavy.

The woman speaks into her wristwatch. “Package secure. I’ll meet around the back.”

I can’t move, but I’m still conscious. Did she just call me a package?

The woman grabs me by my underarms, then lifts me up, putting me over her shoulder in a fireman’s hold. My limbs flop uselessly. This is embarrassing.

“Hrrr…”

“Word of advice: Don’t try to speak. You’ll need every breath you’ve got.”

As she leads me past a doorway at the end of the hall, I catch a glimpse inside. A storage closet, on the floor of which sits two women – both seemingly unconscious. One of them has light skin and close-cropped coffee-brown hair, and is dressed in a pink exercise bra and grey cotton briefs. The other has dark skin and black hair in braids; she’s dressed in a white bandeau bra and aqua-green bikini panties. Both of these women are bound and gagged with silver duct tape.

I only glimpse them for a couple of moments, but that’s all I need to deduce that they’re the real security guard and janitress.

The woman carries me down a quiet hallway, towards an emergency exit. She pushes at the door, but no alarm sounds. They must have deactivated it beforehand. Whoever these people are, they’re good.

At least… that’s what I’m hoping. Otherwise, I’ve just been outsmarted by a bunch of amateurs…

I feel the nighttime breeze against my face as we step out onto the tarmac. It’s dark, and there’s no one else in the immediate area. There are some crewmen tending to an aircraft in the distance – but even if I could yell, they probably couldn’t hear me.

The next moment, a van pulls up in front of the fake janitress. The back doors open, and a woman’s voice hisses out. “Hurry up! Get inside.”

I feel myself being carried into the rear of the van and tossed roughly on the floor. The doors shut, and the woman’s voice calls out “Drive!”

As the van starts to move – slowly, than notably faster – two people stand over me. It’s hard to make out, but they appear to be dressed in blue jumpsuits and yellow face-concealing helmets with built-in gas masks, along with yellow gloves and boots.

“Does she have the Cube?” one of them asks.

“That’s what our tracker indicates,” the other one says. From their voices, I can tell both are women. “We were able to lock onto the frequency of the Cube’s radiation – it led us straight to this woman.”

“It better be right… Otherwise, all this will have been for nothing.”

I feel hands probe the pockets of my jacket, then – from the corner of my eye – see them rummage through my handbag. After a few moments, the woman raises the Chaos Cube in triumph.

“Perfect! Victory for the Black Spectre!”

The Black Who?

The woman disguised as the janitress glances down at me. “What do we do with her? She’s seen my face…”

One of her masked comrades shrugs. “Your fault for choosing a disguise with no face-concealing mask.”

“Hey, we were pressed for time! I had to mug the first airport employee I could find who was close to my size.” She looks down at me again. “So, do we shoot her?”

The masked woman shakes her head. “Not worth wasting a bullet. The drug you hit her with should keep her in a state of paralysis for the next twelve hours. I’ve got a better idea.”

I want to scream, but my mouth refuses to move.

The second masked woman glances out the front window. “Looks like we’re far enough away now from the airport. Let’s dump her.”

The van rolls to a halt. I feel two pairs of gloved hands grab my arms and legs, lifting me upward.

“Who even is she?” the driver asks. I recognize her voice as that of the “security guard.”

I’m the Black Widow, you fool. You just messed with the Black Widow, and you’ll be sorry. You’ll all –

“She’s nobody,” the first masked woman says. “Probably some loser SHIELD agent who thought she could smuggle the Cube away on her own. Too bad for her.”

I want to clench my fists in fury, but my fingers don’t respond. How dare they!

I outsmarted Natasha Romanoff and SHIELD! I defeated Scorpia in one-on-one combat! I’m the best there is! I’m…

…being tossed out the back of the van like so much trash.

I land with a splash in what feels like a puddle. I lie there face-up, staring up at the starry night sky. I can’t move my head, but judging by the sounds and smells, I think I’ve landed in the shallow side of a river.

“Pretty soon, the tide will rise up,” the woman’s voice says. “She’ll drown before the paralysis wears off.”

“I still think we should just shoot her,” the fake security guard says.

The first woman sighs. “We want people to tremble when they hear the name of the Black Spectre, the way they do upon hearing about HYDRA and AIM. We can’t ‘just shoot’ people. We need to give them dramatic deaths, the type associated with the big supervillains.”

I can’t believe it. I’ve been taken out by a bunch of wannabe tough girls.

“Come on, enough bickering. Let’s get back to base.”

I hear the sound of the engine revving up, and the noise of the van fades into the distance.

I lie there in the water, unmoving, unspeaking. Occasionally the water ripples at my face. The tide is rising. Eventually, it’ll cover me. If I’m very lucky, it’ll drag me into the river, where I might be able to stay afloat… But more likely, I’ll just sink to the bottom.

The minutes drag by. I feel my body getting heavier, the water getting higher. Pretty soon I won’t be able to breathe.

Why was I so careless? How could I have thought this would be so easy? What was I thinking?

Natasha, where are you?

[tirepanted3]

Most of these characters in this chapter (and in future chapters) are based on actual characters from Marvel Comics. Links below.

***

Yelena Belova/Black Widow II (I went with her appearance from the Marvel Knights series, familiar to the USB board for the stewardess scene)

https://www.writeups.org/black-widow-be ... el-comics/
viewtopic.php?p=266

Ophelia Sarkissian/Viper/Madame Hydra

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Ophelia_ ... Earth-616)

Norah Winters

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Norah_Wi ... Earth-616)

SHIELD Agent Olivia Hook

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Olivia_Hook_(Earth-616)

(I went with the white uniform, even though it's not standard regulation SHIELD uniform, as a change of pace)

Vicki the flight attendant (see bottom of page)

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Parker_I ... 6)/Members

Black Spectre

https://www.writeups.org/black-spectre- ... -mandrill/
https://www.writeups.org/wp-content/upl ... 12-big.jpg