#3 - Surprising Find

By John Stevenson

The Amazing Spider-Man jumped from a rooftop. As he did so, he somersaulted and flipped several times before firing a webline. The line hit a building and Spider-Man grabbed a hold of it, using it to swing himself with plenty of momentum, coming off the swing flying through the air, almost free-falling, but before he could fall too much he fired off another line. And so continued the process with a few adlibbed flips.

This kind of exercise usually helped the Spider to clear his head, and it normally did him a lot of good. In the current circumstances however, there was little that could help him clear his head at all.

Ever since his wife's kidnapping, a little more than two days ago, Peter had not even laid down to sleep, he had not even shown up for work. Luckily, Peter Parker's current employers at Tri Corp were understanding enough that they knew he would not be able to work effectively with his wife kidnapped. That was a good thing considering his track record with attendance.

As the web-swinger saw his destination come into view, he let go of his last webline and flew through the air until he collided with the outside wall of a building. He stuck to that wall and climbed around the corner into a dark alley. Once he was in it, he jumped from his place on the wall landing softly in the alley next to another man.

The other man didn't flinch at the arrival of the Spider, as a matter of fact, he had been expecting him. Expecting him for ten minutes now.

"You're late," said Arthur Stacy.

"I guess you won't believe that it was the traffic," Spider-Man replied as he observed the old detective.

Stacy had white hair with a white goatee. He was dressed completely in a contrasting black, black pants and a black leather jacket.

"No, actually, I won't," said Stacy, putting an end to the pleasantries.

"Sorry. So, did you talk to your contact in the police?" asked Spidey.

"Yes, I did as a matter of fact. I have to say there wasn't much there."

"Well, what was there?"

"The guard that got knocked out is in the hospital right now. He's in a coma. The analysis seems to be that he got hit with a blunt object that's probably some kind of club, or bat."

Spidey let his head drop, "So, how many people do you figure own baseball bats in New York City?"

"Probably quite a few," said Arthur Stacy realizing how important this was to the web-swinger. "They suspect that the guy made his getaway through the back stairwell."

"There's some top-notch security," Spider-Man shot out sarcastically.

"They also think he drove a yellow cab."

Spider-Man finally saw a glimmer of hope, "A yellow cab? Don't you need a registration for that?"

Arthur Stacy nodded his head. "Unfortunately, no one matching the description of the man on the security tapes is employed by any New York cab companies. It was probably stolen."

"Well, how many cabs get stolen?"

"This is where we catch a break. Fortunately, not that many. It's believed that the taxi in question was stolen from the docks."

"The docks? How original."

"Ya well, just because that's where the car was stolen, doesn't mean the guy set-up shop anywhere near there. The cops haven't searched there yet, because, well, let's be honest, the docks are huge and a lot of the property is privately owned. They need warrants and all this legal action and yada, yada, yada."

Spider-Man sighed. "So, what now?"

"Well, I was doing a little research on the case, and it turns up that you saved Mrs. Watson-Parker from a rather large explosion that tore up almost an entire city block."

"Ya, that's right," said Spidey wondering where Stacy was going with this.

"Well, how much do you want to wager that it's the same guy that pulled that stunt?" the old detective didn't wait for Spidey to respond. "Well, I can tell you for sure, no average Joe has that much explosives on hand."

"So…"

"So, there can't be THAT many people that can deliver that much explosives."

"Arthur Stacy, this is why you're a detective and I'm wearing colorful pajamas!" exclaimed Spider-Man, a ray of hope breaking through the clouds.

"I assume you have your contacts. After all, you did manage to find me. I have a few of my own. If we find something we contact each other."

"Sounds like a plan. Just one question, how?"

Arthur Stacy reached into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a device that looked something like one of those mini cellular phones. He handed it to Spider-Man. "You're a smart young man, I'm sure you can figure out how to use it."

"Thanks," said Spider-Man turning to go, "One last thing, what makes you think I'm a young man?"

"When you've been around as long as I have, everyone's a young man," said Arthur Stacy with a very slight smile.

Spider-Man nodded his head once, and then jumped up onto the wall and crawled to the top before setting off on some more web-swinging.

The Jameson household was normally a very quiet place. J. Jonah Jameson was a rampaging terror as publisher of the Daily Bugle, but in his home he was relatively calm, and so, since his only son had left home, the house was quiet. John Jameson was off playing hero with the Avengers, serving in their crew as a pilot. Jonah and his wife Marla Madison Jameson had been living in the house all by themselves until the arrival of Jonah's "niece", Mattie Franklin.

Mattie was staying with the Jamesons while her father was in the hospital.

Marla Jameson had to admit it felt somewhat nice to have a young person in the house again. Somehow the youth seemed to rub off on her. Even though she did look very good for her age, and had not really gotten very old.

It was late and Marla was just about to turn in for the night after having taken care of a few things. Before embracing the warm comfort of her bed, she decided she would go check on her house guest. She slipped on her robe, and walked down the hallway to the spare bedroom.

She knocked softly on the door, "Mattie? Mattie, are you awake?"

Marla waited a few moments and got no response. So, she turned the handle on the door and opened it slightly to peek inside. From where she was standing, she could see most of the room and she saw no sign of Mattie. Finally, worried, she opened the door completely. "Mattie?"

Looking around the room, she saw nothing. Everything was in place, or as in place as a 15-year old's room got, but there was no sign of the girl.

Marla had passed by the washroom on her way down the hall and the door was open so Mattie couldn't have been in there. Suddenly, a realization struck her. The window to Mattie's room was open.

Marla went over to the window and looked out through it. Mattie leaving through the window didn't make much sense. First of all, the room was on the second floor, and secondly, there was no tree, or sub-roof to climb down.

As Marla turned away from the window, something caught her eye. Sticking out from underneath the closet door was a red piece of material. Marla Jameson pulled the piece of material out from under the closet door and examined it more closely. She soon realized that she was staring at a face mask.

Marla dropped the mask on the floor and quickly exited the room, closing the door behind her. Once into the hall, she paused and took a deep breath. She was going to need to have a serious talk with Jonah in the morning.

Spider-Man was swinging through the city once more, this time with a little bit more hope than before.

He had hit almost every underworld hang-out he knew of in record time. He had then contacted his current partner, Arthur Stacy. The end result? Apparently, the stalker had received his explosives from more than one source. Several sources actually.

Spider-Man had given the locations of purchase to Stacy, who had then asked Spidey to meet him at his current base of operations. *

(* See last issue for a description of Arthur's pad -ADS)

And that's where Spider-Man was headed to right now. Millions of thoughts crossed through his mind as he approached the building that housed Stacy's 'office'.

This time, the wall-crawler took note that the window had been left open for him.

"I'll have to remember to thank him for that," Spider-Man thought.

As he let go of his last webline, Spider-Man flew straight through the open window in a very nice display of accuracy.

Inside the room, Arthur Stacy gave a bit of a start at the colorful figure's sudden entrance.

"You should really learn to knock," grumbled the white-haired man.

"I saw an open window and I took it as an invitation."

"Ah - I see. My mistake then," Stacy replied distractedly as he was busy getting out a large rolled up paper, or poster.

"So, what do we know?" asked an anxious Spider.

Arthur Stacy walked over to the table and unrolled his paper which turned out to be a very detailed map of New York City with all the boroughs clearly indicated. In addition, nine different spots were marked off on the map in red marker, those were also circled to make them more obvious. It didn't take long before Spidey recognized several of the locations on the map.

"These are the locations that the suspect purchased his materials from," Stacy finally said.

Spider-Man looked at the map carefully. "Well, there doesn't seem to be any particular pattern, except that all of the locations are on the east side, close to…"

"Close to the docks," Stacy finished for him.

"Doesn't that bring us back to where we started?" asked Spider-Man somewhat demoralized.

"Not quite. This does two things." Arthur Stacy paused as if for dramatic effect.

Spider-Man hardly appreciated the suspense, "Well, spit it out already!"

"First, it helps confirm that the suspect is operating out of the dock area."

"True, but you said yourself that the docks are huge and it would take forever to search them."

"That's the second thing. The docks spread quite far along the coast, almost all the way up and down. However, if you take all these points, there's an area, about here," Stacy circled an area of the coast with a red marker which Spidey had not noticed earlier, "that all the locations are within twenty miles of."

Spider-Man's mask showed no emotion, but underneath the mask, Peter Parker's eyebrows had gone up about an inch. That was a much smaller region to search.

"Are you sure that's where we'll find him?" asked Spider-Man, the awe still not gone from his face.

"No, but it's our best lead yet."

"In that case, what are we waiting for?"

Spider-Man grabbed Arthur Stacy and leapt out the window.

Back at the Jameson household, after quite a bit of tossing and turning both of the Jamesons were finally able to fall asleep.

Marla had Mattie on her mind and was worried sick, but hadn't wanted to bother Jonah with it until the morning, he had been having enough trouble sleeping already.

The reason for this was the constant dreams that he suffered every night now, sometimes twice a night, and sometimes during the day. He was stuck on seeing the face of an unmasked Spider-Man, covered in shadows.

As Jonah slept tightly, his sleep began to get disturbed as the familiar dream began again. Everything was as it was. The battle between Spider-Man and Venom atop the church, Jonah webbed to the wall and helpless. Venom pounding Spider-Man to a pulp only to leave when he had won the battle. Jonah going over to Spider-Man and removing the mask. The face covered in shadows.

In his sleep Jonah groaned, knowing that this is where the dream would end, but to his surprise it didn't. The shadows began melting away, a face becoming more and more clear.

Suddenly, Jonah stood up in bed screaming, "No, not him! It can't be him!"

Marla woke from his side, scared. Turning to her husband she was about to say something when the door to their bedroom burst open.

"What's wrong uncle Jonah?" asked a very worried Mattie Franklin.

Marla breathed an inward sigh to see the young girl having returned home safely, but she wondered how Mattie had made it here so quickly.

Jonah on the other hand had hardly even noticed her entrance, he was still sitting up on his bed, covered in a cold sweat. His eyes were wide and he seemed paralyzed by fear.

Marla shook her husband, "Dear? Are you okay?"

J. Jonah Jameson finally came out of his stupor, and as if noticing his wife and niece for the first time, he said, "What? Oh, yes, yes. I'm perfectly fine. Just a very odd dream, that's all, go back to bed girls."

Jonah turned to look at the time and realized he had to be up in an hour. All for the best, he thought, he wouldn't be able to sleep anymore today anyway.

Mattie slowly left the room, closing the door behind her, and Jonah went towards his washroom, just barely able to contain the shaking of his limbs.

Marla Madison Jameson stayed in bed staring at her husband, trying to figure out what exactly was happening in those dreams of his.

Dawn was just beginning to break over the docks as Spider-Man approached with Arthur Stacy holding on for dear life. Finally, the wall-crawler landed on a rooftop across from a pier and dropped the detective down gently.

Arthur Stacy gathered himself, and said, "How do you travel like that all the time?"

"You get used to it," answered Spider-Man as he was already scanning the area with his vision and his Spider Sense.

"Hmph, I'll bet."

"So, where do we start? How do we start?"

"Well, a yellow cab would probably be a good thing to look for. If that falls through we can start asking passer-bys. Umm… well, I'll start asking passer-bys. You, you might want to lay low during that phase."

Spider-Man grunted his agreement, and the duo took off in search of their yellow cab.

Mary Jane sat in her chair, tied up in the same place as before. She struggled with her bonds for the umpteenth time still with no success.

The fact that she was weak didn't help her much. She had slept very little, afraid of what her captor might try while she was asleep and she had eaten even less. Her stalker insisted that the only way she would eat was if he fed her, and she would not stand for that. As such, the weakness. He was probably trying to break her spirit.

Mary Jane heard a creaking noise. In the past couple of days she had become very familiar with the sounds of this old boathouse. The creaking, the cracking, the child crying. The creaking she had just heard meant that someone was coming.

She let out a low groan. Her captor had left for a while, but he was obviously back.

"Oh pumpkin," came the insane voice, "How are you feeling? Are you ready to eat yet?"

As he said this, he came closer to MJ and was soon just about to stroke her face. Mary Jane mustered whatever energy she could to sharply turn her head away.

"Oh," said the lunatic in a seemingly sad voice, "I guess not."

He paused for a moment, attracting a vicious glare from the redhead.

Suddenly jolly again, he said, "Oh well, looks like I'll just go have to find someone else to play with."

The morning light was just beginning to shine through the sole window in the small cramped room.

It was then that Mary Jane noticed for the first time the baseball bat in the man's hands. "It's time for me to go off and kill your hubby."

Suddenly, the window broke with a loud crashing sound.

"Not if I have anything to do with it," came the voice of the Amazing Spider-Man, making one of his usual dramatic entrances.

Mary Jane's heart jumped with joy, at the same time as her stalker's jaw dropped.

He did not stay in shock for long though, as he swung his Louisville Slugger in the direction of the wall-crawler. Spider-Man caught the bat in one hand and snapped it in half, throwing both pieces in different directions.

The man began to cower in fear. He no longer had anything to defend himself with. Normally, that would be cause enough to make the web-swinger pause. But this man had kidnapped his wife and had undoubtedly put her through horrifying experiences.

Seething with rage, Spider-Man punched his enemy in the stomach, doubling him over and knocking the wind out of him. He then delivered a right cross to the man's jaw. The man stumbled backward, but did not fall unconscious because Spidey had planned it so. The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man continued his relentless assault hitting the man in the nose with his palm, breaking it, and causing the man to bleed and yelp. The red-and-blue clad hero finally delivered, the knock-out blow, a kick to the man's midsection that sent him flying into the far wall and into blissful unconsciousness. However, not before having probably fractured a few ribs.

The threat disposed of, the red cloud in Spider-Man's vision lifted and he turned his attention to his bound wife. Just as he untied her, Mary Jane collapsed into his arms.

"Oh, Peter, I knew you'd find me."

Peter Parker wasted little time taking off his mask and kissing his wife.

"Mary Jane, I'm so sorry. About everything. About not telling you, and about…"

"Shhh… it doesn't matter anymore," said the weak redhead as the two just lay in each other's arms.

Peter had no idea how long he had stayed there in that small room holding his wife, but he was pulled out of his stupor by the sound of a crying child. Looking out the window, Peter realized that the sun was now well into the morning sky.

"Peter," MJ said feebly, "There's a kid in the next room. I don't know how old or anything, but he's been crying since I got here."

Peter simply nodded and walked into the next room, not even bothering to replace his mask, since his Spider Sense told him it was unnecessary. The sight he saw when he walked into the room was a surprise. The crying was coming from a crib.

He peeked over the edge of the crib and his facial expression turned into one that cannot be described. A single tear ran down his left cheek.

"Mary Jane! Come here, quick!"

MJ stumbled into the room, hardly able to stand, let alone walk.

"Peter, what do you think you're…" her sentence trailed off as she saw the child in the crib. It was a baby girl of about six months of age. "Peter, is it… is it…?"

Peter didn't answer her, he only returned the look. Peter Parker had never seen his daughter after she was declared stillborn. Mary Jane Wastson-Parker had only had a brief glimpse of the baby that was born dead. Yet, parents possess an instinct… an indescribable instinct. Peter and Mary Jane somehow knew that the girl they were looking at was…

"Baby May!" the two said in unison.

The baby that had been crying stopped and looked up and smiled, for children have an instinct too. And this baby, although only six months old, could tell the face of a father and mother she had never seen before.

Mary Jane, her weakness forgotten, picked up the baby and held her tight in her arms.

Peter just held his wife, the baby sandwiched between the two, yet the infant did not cry. In fact, she giggled while the Parkers wept.

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" yelled the Amazing Spider-Man as he shook the man who had held his wife and the baby he assumed to be his daughter captive.

The stalker, his green cap and sunglasses finally gone, awoke groggily. It did not take him long to realize where he was and who was shaking him. When he did, the man began to shake on his own.

"Please don't hurt me," he managed to blurt out before he began to moan as he felt the pain emanating from his nose, his jaw and his ribs.

"If you don't talk, I'll break every bone in your body, do you understand!?" yelled a furious web-swinger.

"What do you want to know?" asked the petrified man.

"The baby. Who is she?"

The stalker said nothing, as if realizing no matter what he said or didn't say, he was in huge trouble.

"WELL!?" demanded the infuriated inquisitor.

Fear taking over, the coward blurted out, "It's Mary Jane Watson's baby!"

"How!? How is that possible?"

"I - I worked for the Green Goblin. The doctor who was doing the delivery did something to the baby so that when she was born, she appeared to be dead."

"How did you get her?" asked Spider-Man his little patience running out.

"When I found out the Goblin's plan to kidnap Mary Jane Watson's baby, I took the baby and ran. That baby is rightfully mine, the same way Mary Jane Watson is!"

That was all the insane man could get out before he slipped back into blackness courtesy of Spidey's right fist.

Mary Jane, who had been waiting in the shadows, the baby in her arms, crept closer.

"S - so, it's true?" asked the worried mother.

"I've never felt so sure of anything in my life," said Peter as he slid a hand over the head of his now resting daughter.

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