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Before he could say another word, you walked over and brought your fist down against the side of his head. His body crumpled to the floor, and the room went silent once more. All eyes were on you.
You turned to address them, taking in every expression as you did. <span class="mu-r">“No one’s running. If you need time, we’ll buy you time.”</span> you declared. That statement elicited more than a few gasps and murmurs from the maggia. Black Cat was giving you an unreadable expression, and Prowler seemed to be doing some complex mental calculations. Flint looked uneasy, but his being virtually indestructible made him more eager to take on the Kingpin than the men around him. And Glass, to his credit, didn’t seem to lose his cool. Either he hadn’t heard about Mary’s reputation, or he simply didn’t care.
All talk of you being a crazy person died down when you called Slip down to join you in the bunker. Now, everyone’s eyes were on him. And so were their guns.
Slip didn’t move. His gaze traveled between you and Silvermane, but you were incapable of gauging his reaction when he was wearing that almost featureless mask.
He wasn’t a huge fan of staying behind, especially when you were bringing your whole team with you to take on the Kingpin’s forces. You had, after all, promised to protect him from Silvermane and his cronies. But when presented with the alternative, he found himself taking comfort in having the maggia at his back.
Silvermane didn’t sound all too happy when you brought up the idea of sparing Slip’s life, but he was eternally grateful to you for diffusing the hostage situation, so he agreed to shelve the issue until you got back.
The maggia don started barking orders at his men, helping them get their asses in gear and start preparing the equipment. Unfortunately a good chunk of the lab techs were taken out during the assault, and there were only two left that even remotely knew what they were doing. They were Max Dillon, and a scientist that you hadn’t met before named Owen Reece. He was a slender man with wild, untamed brown hair that almost looked like it should belong on an 80’s rocker. A brief exchange taught you that Owen was pretty damn bad at talking to people. But what he lacked in social skills, he made up for in brain power. That was all you needed to know.
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While Silvermane’s boys were scrambling around the room, you pulled your team into a private little corner and had another meeting of your own. When you pitched your idea of what your lineup should look like, Felicia’s face seemed to brighten a bit. She wasn’t a huge fan of being put on the front lines, but she and Prowler were both capable of utilizing ambush tactics and the like. They took most of the remaining web bombs and adapted them to make use of tripwires, motion sensors, timers and remote detonators.
(Cont.)
