“I kind of doubt old Uncle Sam would be too thrilled offering help to the folks who are planning to blackmail him with his own secrets.”
“Of course,” Bruce said impatiently. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and stared off into the slowly brightening sky.
“We’ve got to stop them,” Bruce Banner said at last. “We’ve got to smash this thing before it gets out of hand.”
“Agreed. Only . . .” Spider-Man hesitated.
“What?”
“Well,” the Wall-crawler said slowly. “It’s not like I don’t appreciate the offer, Doc, but truth to tell, you don’t look like you’d be much . . . uh, good in a tussle.”
Bruce grinned lopsidedly. “Wait until the action starts, my friend,” he said. “Then you’ll see how effective I can be.”
“Touché.” Spider-Man hauled himself to his feet. “It’s just kind of tough remembering that beneath the mild, inoffensive exterior I see before me lies seven feet of angry Hulk.”
Bruce Banner looked hard into Spider-Man’s face. “No.” He shook his head. “It’s really not all that difficult to remember, Spider-Man, once you’ve lived with it long enough.”
Spider-Man and Bruce Banner picked their way through the thick underbrush several yards off the side of the highway. The sun was high in the east, lighting the clearing sky and bringing warmth to the new day.
Bruce led the way, stalking silently back toward the complex on the bank of the Niagara River.
What’s with this guy, anyway? He hasn’t said word one since we started walking.
But the slender young scientist was lost in thoughts of his own; deep, black thoughts that caused his handsome face to cloud with anxiety. He did not seem to notice the branches and thorns that scraped past his naked chest and back.
Somehow, the Hulk had been instrumental in helping Irvine and his confederates launch that satellite into orbit. They had tricked him, trapped him with a carrot at the end of a stick and then put that uncontrollable part of his psyche to work on their foul deeds.
He had been used, damn it!
Bruce Banner clenched his fists in anger, venting his anger by smashing aside the branches that blocked his way. What the Hulk did on his own, through his own brutish ignorance, was hard enough for the young scientist to live with. But when unscrupulous men harnessed that power for their schemes, it was worse—far worse. Property demolished by his savage alter ego could be replaced or rebuilt, but vital information stolen from space could not, and it could lead to irreparable damage—or the loss of life.
But it’s not going to happen, Bruce swore to himself. If I have to tear down that place with my bare hands to prevent it; so help me, I will!
We’re probably getting close. I ought to warn Doc . . .
Suddenly, Spider-Man’s amazing spider-sense flared to life. And even as it tingled through his skull, his ears pricked up.
Snap!
“Doc!” he whispered harshly.
Bruce turned. “What . . . ?”
“Shhh!” Spidey put a finger to his lips and pointed into the bushes at their side. “A little birdie just told me we’ve got some unexpected company headed this way.”
Bruce stiffened.
“Who do you think it is?”
“Trouble, more than likely. We’re awfully close to the base. They’ve probably got guards stationed around the perimeter to keep out anyone who comes sniffing around, curious about the big noises coming from around here.”
“What do we do now?”
Spidey grinned under his mask. “Get rid of ’em. What else? You wait here, Doc. I want to save the Hulk for when he’s got something else to batter around instead of me.”
Bruce nodded tensely.
The Web-slinger ducked into the underbrush, his movement surprisingly quiet for his speed.
I don’t know how many of them there are, but since when do I worry about the odds?
There were four of them in all, men dressed in the gray uniforms of the complex’s security force and with small revolvers strapped unobtrusively to their belts. Two of the men walking through the thin woods carried walkie-talkies.
Guards it is. Give the man a cigar!
There’s no chance of me and the doc making it back to the base without these clowns accidentally tripping over us, so, like I told the man, it’s time to get rid of ’em!
“Yoo-hoo, boy scouts!” Spider-Man called as he stepped out from behind the cover of a thick tree.
The guards were stunned by the sight of the bizarrely costumed man suddenly appearing before them. That was just what the Wall-crawler was counting on.
He charged into the men, throwing himself full-length into the closely grouped quartet. They went down beneath him in a pile of gray-covered, flailing limbs. Spidey’s fist connected with a jaw and one man tumbled over backward to lie unmoving in a patch of snow.
Spider-Man ducked under a clumsily thrown kick and grabbed the black-shoed foot by the ankle. He yanked up, twisting hard on the foot. The guard howled in surprise as he smacked face first into the hard ground.
The third guard grabbed Spider-Man from behind and wrapped his arms around the Wall-crawler’s throat. The remaining man started toward the captive crime fighter, his clenched fist poised to strike.
“You’re really a dreamer, friend,” Spider-Man told him.
The Web-slinger threw himself forward, flipping the man holding him over his back.
“Yiii!” the hapless man screamed as he flew toward his companion. Both guards collided with a thud and sank to the ground.
“Okay, Doc,” Spidey called into the underbrush.
Bruce Banner appeared between two bushes. He looked at the guards on the ground and then at Spider-Man, obviously impressed. “That couldn’t have taken more than three or four seconds in all.”
“That’s what comes of practice,” Spidey admitted modestly.
Bruce Banner allowed himself a smile. “It really isn’t true what the papers say about you,” he decided.
“That stuff about taking old ladies only halfway across the street and leaving them there? Heck, I haven’t done that kind of thing in years.”
“Okay. What’s next?”
Spider-Man’s arm swept out in an elaborate gesture. “Lead on, MacDuff.”
As soon as the sound of the two men pushing through the brush could no longer be heard in the clearing where the four men lay, one of the unconscious guards stirred.
He sat up and groggily rubbed a hand across his tender jaw. He shook his head and groped on the cold, hard ground for his walkie-talkie.
“Group Three reporting in,” he said gingerly into the radio as he tried talking without moving his swollen jaw. “Group Three to Control.”
“Yeah, Group Three.”
“Tell Mr. Pendergast—”
“Spider-Man’s here?”
Pendergast was thunderstruck. His gray eyes narrowed and he jerked his head around from the radio to stare dangerously at Daniel Irvine.
“That . . . that’s impossible,” the scientist insisted. “Spider-Man’s dead. He and Banner were smashed like insects on the rocket by the tremendous G force. They had to be!”
“Then how, Doctor,” Pendergast asked in icy tones, “do you explain four guards being attacked and beaten by him?”
“They’re mistaken!”
“Really, Dr. Irvine.”
“But . . .”
“Enough, Doctor. We’ll continue this discussion later. Alone.” The tall man turned to Prof. Warner, seated at his control console. “Professor,” he said. “We have Spider-Man’s location pinpointed. Banner’s probably still alive as well. Is it possible for you to lock the maser on them?”
Warner answered immediately. “Of course, Mr. Pendergast. The sensors can pinpoint a dime, let alone two men.”
“Their interference is becoming increasingly dangerous to our work here, Prof. Warner. Do it!”
The bearded scientist swiveled around slowly in his seat, his
face blanching as he suddenly understood the meaning of the steely-eyed man’s words. “No,” Warner breathed. “You can’t!”
“But I can, Professor, and I will!” Pendergast hissed through clenched teeth.
“Use the maser and blast those meddling fools to ashes!”
Twenty-Two
The tree in front of Bruce Banner split lengthwise as a ruby-red beam of light flashed from the sky and touched the top of the tall trunk.
Even as the two halves fell to the ground, Spider-Man grabbed the startled physicist around the waist and pulled him to the ground.
“What the hell was that?” Bruce practically screeched.
“Calm down, Doc. For all we know, it was just a bolt of lightning.”
“Lightning? There’s not a cloud in the sky.”
“So when did I say I knew anything about meteorology?”
“Be serious, man!”
A second flash of ruby-red light caused the ground a mere half dozen feet before them to explode in a shower of soil and dirty snow.
“You want serious, Doc?” Spidey said. “Then try this on for size: run!”
Like runners in a competition, the strange duo launched themselves to their feet and raced into the woods. Pencil-thin beams of ruby light, stabbed from the sky above, tracing their path through the brush with its deadly blasts.
“I don’t know how much longer I can go on,” Bruce panted after several minutes. He was beginning to fall behind the Web-slinger.
“Don’t think about it, Doc. Just remember what that laser or whatever it is did to the tree!” Spider-Man was running with much less effort, breathing in an even, steady rhythm.
Bruce Banner’s heart pounded in his chest. He gasped in pain as a stitch tore through his side. He had to stop, had to catch his breath, if only for a moment. But a shower of cold dirt from the maser beam’s closest blast urged him on in spite of the pain.
Suddenly, the maser stabbed into the ground before the two men. Spidey shoved Bruce roughly to one side while he threw himself in the opposite direction, avoiding the latest crimson beam that his spider sense had warned him would strike where he and Bruce Banner stood.
The maser beam seemed to lock on the Web-slinger, following his movements in an ever-tightening circle as Spider-Man leaped through a series of desperate acrobatics to avoid its deadly touch.
This is getting us nowhere—fast!
Spider-Man sent a strand of webbing flying toward a nearby tree and, as he swung over the small crater dug into the ground by the ruby light, he scooped Bruce Banner into his arms. Swinging in a wide arc, he let go of the webbing and both men dropped to the ground.
“After you, Alphonse,” Spidey said.
“Right with you, Gaston,” Bruce shouted as they started running once again.
Bruce discovered new reserves of strength somewhere inside of himself and found he could now keep pace with the agile Web-slinger and remain just ahead of the ruby-red beams. You can’t let yourself get killed here, he told himself harshly.
But then the frail young scientist tripped over a rock and sprawled headlong on the ground.
“Doc!”
Spider-Man skidded to a stop and started to run back to his fallen companion. But the maser was firing with blinding speed now, ringing the helpless scientist with its lethal firepower. Bruce tried to rise as the ground exploded beside his leg.
“No!” he screamed.
His heart pounded in his chest as the blood pounded in his throbbing temples, Bruce rose to one knee. The flashes of red seemed to merge into a single crimson haze.
Fssstt!
The maser beam washed over the man called Bruce Banner in the next instant, but the ruby-red light seemed to splash harmlessly off his broad, emerald back.
The Hulk roared his rage at the pain that seared across his back and swiped his powerful jade hands through the intangible beams.
“Arrggh!” he bellowed as the lights would not break but merely sent new flashes of white-hot pain coursing through him.
Hoo-boy!
Spider-Man had stepped back in surprise, watching with eyes staring in astonishment as Bruce Banner underwent the most amazing metamorphosis the Wall-crawler had ever witnessed. I was afraid this was going to happen! I had hoped it would’ve held off until we needed the Hulk’s strength!
Then again, considering the Hulk’s the first thing I’ve seen that those beams can’t demolish, I guess we need him more than I thought.
Now I’ve gotta hope he believes me when I tell him I’m on his side!
“Bah!” the man-monster huffed. “Lights do not make any sense. They can touch Hulk but Hulk cannot touch them.” The green giant crouched, readying to leap away from this baffling attack.
“Hulk! Wait!” Spider-Man called.
The Hulk turned and then grunted as another flash of ruby red splashed across his barrel chest and drove him to the ground. The beams streaked across the length of the Hulk’s body before moving on toward Spider-Man.
“Hulk, listen to me,” the Wall-crawler pleaded with the great green man. The Hulk struggled to his feet, his emerald eyes glazed with pain. He shook his head like a wet dog and growled.
The Wall-crawler somersaulted out of the maser’s range, bouncing across the ground to the Hulk.
“We’ve gotta get out of here, Hulk! Quick!”
“Huh? Hulk remembers you, bug-eyes. You tried to . . . hurt Hulk!”
“You’ve got it all wrong, big buddy,” Spidey said quickly, his eyes drawn to the flashes of crimson light tearing a path of destruction toward them. “I’m your friend, Hulk. Friend!” he repeated, just to make sure the man-monster got the message. “I’m not the one who’s trying to hurt you. See?” The Web-slinger pointed to the approaching maser beam. “It’s the other men, the ones in the white coats who are trying to kill you and me. That means we’re on the same side. Me friend, them enemy!”
Lord, I hope this green turkey can follow a little bit of simple logic, because if he doesn’t, my goose is cooked either way. Either the Hulk grabs my legs and makes a wish or he leaves me here to get fried by that Buck Rogers death ray!
The Hulk pondered this for what seemed to Spider-Man to be an eternity before his primitive face relaxed into a smile. The jade giant clapped a friendly hand on Spidey’s shoulder, almost knocking the Wall-crawler to the ground with his enthusiastic camaraderie.
“Yes,” the Hulk proclaimed. “Bug-eyes is Hulk’s friend.”
Spider-Man breathed a sigh of relief.
A second later, the maser beam was tearing up the ground at his feet, reminding the Web-slinger that he was not yet in the clear.
“Okay, buddy,” he shouted. “Let’s fly this burg!”
The Hulk crouched and Spider-Man jumped up onto the man-monster’s broad back. With a leap, they were airborne.
Spidey clung tightly to the emerald colossus’ neck as they soared in a high arc, the Hulk’s seemingly casual leap carrying them a quarter of a mile from the maser blasts. The green-skinned behemoth came down, his thick legs bending to absorb the impact of landing and then sprang back into the sky.
Cripes! We’re heading away from the base!
Unless . . . yeah, Doc Banner said the Hulk doesn’t retain any of his memory and vice versa. I should’ve pointed!
The Web-slinger realized from the queasy feeling in his stomach that they were once again falling to the ground. He glanced down to see where they were. And if the sight of the ground rushing up toward him at a dizzying speed wasn’t enough to make Spidey’s mouth stretch into a sick, grim line beneath his mask, the place they were about to land in was.
I was afraid of this!
During the winter months, the city of Niagara Falls, New York could almost be described as a quiet little upstate resort town, closed for the off-season and empty of tourists.
Almost. For a look at the streets of Niagara Falls reveals something about the small city: the garish signs over souvenir ships lining the thoroughfare
s, the neon glowing coldly even in the light of day, the gaudy tourist attractions; the tacky look and feel of a city that feeds off itself in the name of tourism.
And, in truth, tourists still came to the city in the cold of winter. There were the young marrieds who believed the falls were still the honeymoon capital of the nation, or who could afford no better. There were the families who came for winter vacation to tour the feature that made this small city on the US-Canadian border the highly touted attraction it had become: Niagara Falls.
There were no tourists on the streets in the center of the city’s small downtown area this early in the morning, but a score of residents on their way to work were about to witness perhaps the most bizarre occurrence in the city’s colorful history.
A large figure appeared high in the sky and hurtled like an out-of-control missile toward the streets below. It fell to the asphalt street in their midst as they ran, fearful for their lives, out of its way. But it wasn’t a missile. It was a snarling, green giant with a lithe young man in a dark-blue-and-red costume clinging to his back.
A woman screamed and pushed frantically past her husband as she ran for the safety of a nearby store.
There was no other sound in the still of the morning, save for the distant rumble of the mighty falls and the heavy breathing of the Hulk as he glowered at the people in the street with veiled, suspicious eyes.
“Easy, big buddy,” Spider-Man said gently, patting the big green man’s back in reassurance.
“What is this place, bug-eyes?”
“A tourist trap, if you must know.”
The Hulk stared blankly at Spider-Man.
“Forget it, big guy,” the Wall-crawler said. “We may not be doing any good to the townies here, but I think we’re pretty safe here until we start back t . . .”
FssssstttBAHWHOOOM!
A ruby-red needle of light pierced the air and blasted through the sidewalk to their side.
I hadda open my big mouth, didn’t I?
The Hulk roared his disapproval at this turn of events. “Go away from Hulk, light!”
“Nice try, Greensleeves,” Spidey breathed. “But nobody’s buying it. You’ve got to jump us out of here again.”
Marvel Novel Series 11 - The Hulk and Spider-Man - Murdermoon Page 14
