"School trip. Hotel bookings. Forty days on the road." Peter flipped through the glossy Global Education brochure, tapping a finger against the itinerary. "Lisbon, Madrid, Naples, Rome, Venice. Do you see the problem here? Three stops in Italy, but only Madrid for Spain? They skip Toledo, they ignore Granada, and they completely bypass Barcelona! Who planned this route?"
Harry stared at him from the middle seat. He glanced across the airplane aisle. Gwen and Cindy were sitting together, quietly chatting. Harry looked back at Peter, who was currently occupying the window seat next to him and Amadeus.
"Yeah, Peter," Harry deadpanned. "A real tragedy. What else is on your mind?"
The underlying why aren't you sitting with your girlfriends hung heavily in the air. Peter ignored it.
Harry waited for the flight attendant to pass their row before leaning in close. His voice dropped to a murmur. "So, S.H.I.E.L.D. hijacked our field trip. Is that it? The Avengers can't get involved because it blows your cover. That means it's just you, Cindy, and Felicia against these... Elementals?"
Harry glanced a few rows up. Felicia Hardy was currently locked in conversation with Jessica Drew. Harry did the mental math. Two Spider-variants and a cat burglar against a squad of hyper-powered living natural disasters. It didn't sound like a winning equation.
"Fury hired local backup," Peter whispered back, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know who it is yet. S.H.I.E.L.D. is keeping me in the dark."
Harry nodded slowly. He leaned back in his seat and stretched his legs. "Well, at least we get a few days in Lisbon first. I hear the beaches are incredible. Lots of gorgeous European women."
Peter blinked at him. "Harry. It's February."
"It's Southern Europe, Peter," Harry corrected smoothly.
"You have a girlfriend," Peter reminded him.
Harry immediately closed his mouth and stared straight ahead.
"You have no idea how exhausting it is to dodge Jessica," Felicia complained. She dragged her rolling suitcase down a restricted, fluorescent-lit staff corridor in Lisbon International Airport. "Your little Detective Club president is entirely too perceptive."
"That's why she's the president," Peter said. He pulled his own luggage behind him, his eyes glued to a secure S.H.I.E.L.D. file on his phone. "Hey, Cindy. Why is our contact called the Wild Pack? It sounds like a college frat."
Cindy walked a few paces ahead, her posture straight. "They originated as a Soviet-era special forces unit," she explained, pulling from her Level Four briefings. "They were formed during World War II to hunt Hydra assets and rogue superhumans. After the Soviet Union collapsed, they relocated to Symkaria and privatized. They operate as a high-end mercenary outfit now. Mostly retired Eastern European special forces."
Peter pocketed his phone. A heavily armed, privately funded mercenary kill-squad. Fury really was keeping this off the official S.H.I.E.L.D. books.
Cindy stopped in front of an unmarked metal door at the end of the hall. She reached out and knocked in a precise, syncopated rhythm. A heavy deadbolt clicked from the inside.
Cindy reached for the handle. She froze. Her head tilted slightly. A sharp prickle of warning flared at the base of Peter's skull at the exact same moment. His spider-sense.
"Step aside, kids," Felicia purred.
Felicia didn't touch the handle. She shifted her weight, drove her combat boot directly into the locking mechanism, and kicked the door off its hinges. Before the metal even hit the wall, she hoisted her fifty-pound suitcase and hurled it straight into the blind opening.
Someone inside cursed and scrambled backward, boots squeaking on the linoleum.
"People always try to test the new hires," Felicia said, stepping casually through the doorway. "They forget I cheat."
Peter and Cindy followed her inside.
A young woman stood in the center of the cramped breakroom. She was barely older than Peter, clad in pristine, form-fitting white tactical armor. Her hair was a striking, icy silver. She held a military-grade combat knife in a reverse grip, her chest heaving slightly from her rapid backpedal. If Felicia had opened the door normally, a blade would have been waiting for her throat. Instead, the girl had been forced to dodge a flying block of Samsonite.
"You should be grateful I didn't draw a sidearm," the girl said, her accent a sharp, clipped Eastern European. "Your luggage wouldn't have stopped a hollow-point."
Felicia didn't miss a beat. "If you had drawn a gun, I wouldn't have thrown a suitcase."
"You'd be bleeding out on the threshold before you could pull a trigger, American," the girl sneered. She spun the knife and slid it into a thigh sheath with a sharp clack. She looked the three of them up and down, her lip curling in disgust. "S.H.I.E.L.D. sent me three high schoolers. Does Fury expect me to run a day-care?"
She crossed her arms over her tactical vest. "My name is Silvija Sablinova. I command the Wild Pack. Your boss paid me an obscene amount of money to keep you super-powered brats breathing. Try to stay out of my way."
Peter stared at her. "Silvija Sablinova. Wait. Silver Sable?"
"If you ever have the capital to hire my organization, you can use my operational callsign," Silvija said coldly. "For now—"
"Don't act like the boss," Felicia interrupted, crossing her own arms. "You're what, nineteen? You're barely older than us."
"I've actually graduated," Silvija shot back. "That already puts my operational capacity miles ahead of yours."
Felicia laughed, a sharp, condescending sound. "You don't even have powers. You're just an angry girl with a gym membership and a knife."
Silvija took a slow, deliberate step forward. "Test that theory. I have hunted, arrested, and killed more super-powered threats than you have ever seen."
"Really?" Felicia smirked. "Because the European super-crime scene looks pretty dead from where I'm standing. New York is where the actual heavy hitters play."
"The European scene is dead because I kill them before they make the evening news," Silvija said, jabbing a finger at Felicia's chest. "You Americans wait until a freak in a costume levels three city blocks before you decide to put on a mask and stop them."
"Is this a silver-hair thing?"
Both women snapped their heads toward Peter.
Peter stood by the door, gripping the handle of his suitcase. "I'm just asking. Is this like two identical magnetic poles repelling each other? Because the tension here is crazy."
Silvija's eyes narrowed. Felicia glared.
Peter raised his free hand in surrender. "Look, I'm just trying to lighten the mood. Also... I'm pretty sure I'm the most experienced operator in this room. I've literally saved the multiverse. Just saying."
PS: Marvel Fun Fact
Did you know? Silver Sable (Silvija Sablinova) made her comic debut in Amazing Spider-Man #265 in 1985! She is the CEO of Silver Sable International and the leader of the Wild Pack, a mercenary group funded by her home country of Symkaria. While she doesn't have any superpowers, she is a master martial artist and Olympic-level athlete who regularly goes toe-to-toe with superhumans. She and Spider-Man have a long history of teaming up, even if her lethal methods often clash with Peter's moral code!
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