Recon Mission
Peter moved at high speed, swinging with his webs between the buildings, and quickly reached the port, just in time to see the ferry he had marked starting to leave.
"Karen, what about the VITAE agents?" he asked when he noticed they probably hadn't arrived yet.
"They're on the way. You're cleared to participate in this mission," Karen replied from the suit. Suddenly, a window appeared in front of Peter, like some kind of mission panel.
"What is this?" he asked, confused as he looked at it, instantly recognizing that MMO-style interface he used to play with Ned.
"Mission assistant. Mr. Stark figured it'd be more efficient for you to focus on objectives and steps during your missions," Karen explained.
"Well… I can't say he's wrong. Now I feel a total urge to complete every step," Peter muttered, looking at the window. The objectives were there: find the criminals and mark them, identify emergency exits, locate dangerous objects, wait for the agents and, as a final optional step, join the raid while avoiding civilian damage.
"It really does feel like a video game…," he said, shrugging slightly, feeling a bit excited.
"One more thing, Peter. According to protocol, when a Class S agent is in the field, Class A agents only act as support. Control is transferred directly to the Class S agent," Karen explained.
Peter froze for a second. "But I'm a Class S agent in training…," he repeated, like he was only now realizing what that meant.
"The moment you enter the field, you obtain the authority of a Class S agent, according to Mr. Colt's orders," Karen added.
Peter stayed silent for a moment. A faint smile appeared under his mask. Pride… and something else. The trust Owen had placed in him. This was his moment.
"I won't let you down," he murmured, calming his mind. He ran along the edge of the building and, opening his arms, let web-wings form beneath him, throwing himself into the void to glide straight toward the ferry.
"Wait… what if it's the wrong ferry?" he suddenly asked.
"Then the mission will be canceled. You will lose your Class S agent privileges and return to being a junior agent," Karen replied with complete coldness.
That was enough to distract him… just for a second… and that second was enough.
Boom.
Peter slammed straight into the ferry, barely managing to stick his hand in time.
"Ouch…," he muttered, rubbing his head. "Well… I hope the criminals are here."
"If they are, then everyone on this ferry will be in danger," Karen replied.
"Yeah… well… I didn't mean that part. You know," he said, noticing his mistake.
He took a deep breath. "Alright… recon mission." He began climbing up the ferry's hull toward the windows. "Karen, enhanced reconnaissance mode."
"Activated."
Immediately, multiple interfaces appeared in front of his eyes. The sounds inside the ferry started coming through clearly as the AI analyzed voices, comparing them to the ones the spy spider had recorded.
Peter moved from window to window, searching for more angles, more voices. The longer it took… the more nervous he became. He was starting to feel like maybe he had chosen the wrong ferry.
Until—
"Two matches found," Karen said.
Peter stopped. They were at the rear of the ferry. The visor lit up slightly, guiding his gaze toward two men sitting and talking.
As soon as he focused on them, their voices were isolated.
"Main deck. Front side. It's time," said a very recognizable voice.
The boss.
"I hate that guy," another replied, standing up as he started walking.
Peter had Karen register their faces.
"Alright… that's two. Let's keep looking," he murmured, watching as the counter on his mission panel changed from 0 to 2.
And he couldn't help but feel a small spark of excitement.
This wasn't practice anymore.
This was real.
In the end, Tony really was right. If he wanted Peter to focus on missions like this, he had done it. And then some.
Peter followed them from the outside while not forgetting the other part of the mission: marking exits, which kept increasing the progress bar. As he moved, he saw the criminal meet up with four others waiting outside, marking them immediately.
"It's the white pick-up," one of them said in a serious tone as he walked past the other group. The one who looked like the leader glanced at one of his men, and he started walking toward the car section while adjusting something under his clothes.
Peter touched his chest for a moment, and a small spider-shaped drone came out from there, floating in front of him. It moved quickly, unseen, crawling over the roof until it found the truck. Inside, there was another man. He marked him too.
Target confirmed… weapons. And probably the last one.
When the seller stepped out to show the merchandise to the buyer, Peter already had everything: buyers, sellers, weapons, exits. The mission bar on his visor filled up.
"Nice…," he murmured, but that small sound was enough for some of the criminals to turn. Peter reacted instantly, jumping behind one of the cars.
The men looked around, tense. They leaned out, checked. Nothing. For them there was no one, so they went back to what they were doing.
Under the car, Peter let out a breath. "Great…," he repeated in a low voice, remembering not to make noise. "Now we just wait for VITAE… and that's it."
"How long until they get here?" he asked, watching as the exchange began. Bags full of money passed from one side to the other, and the keys to the truck changed hands.
"There might be a small problem, Peter," Karen said.
"What is it?"
"The Class A agents were stopped by the DODC on the way. It's possible they also found out about the exchange."
"Ah, damn it… them again. Do they only exist to be a pain?" Peter muttered, clearly irritated. "So now what? If the ferry reaches the other side, the criminals will escape."
"Peter, as a Class S agent on duty, you have full authority to act according to your judgment," Karen replied.
Peter stayed silent for a second, watching the deal move forward. "So… if I want to act and stop them on my own… I can do that?" he asked carefully.
"That's correct."
"But if I fail… it'll also be my fault."
"That is the responsibility, Peter."
"…I see."
His eyes stayed fixed on the exchange.
Money. Weapons. People around.
If he messed up… this wasn't training.
This was real.
He took a slow breath.
"Alright… then let's do it."
He exhaled slowly… and made his choice. From his hiding spot, he shot a web straight at the truck keys, pulling them toward himself with force.
And the next second, he jumped out in front of everyone.
"I'll be taking this."
He casually spun the keys in his hand.
"And you… are under arrest," he said calmly.
The men looked him up and down.
"Weren't you… in prison?" one of them asked, confused, but the doubt didn't last long. They all pulled out their weapons.
"Ah… right," Peter muttered.
He tapped his chest twice and moved. Two webs shot toward the closest men, pulling them toward him. He jumped, slipping past them mid-air, as the color of his suit shifted to black.
The moment he touched the ground, he pushed off with both hands and launched a kick straight at the buyers' leader, sending him into a metal wall. A strike came from the side, a seller with a massive metal gauntlet charged with electricity. Peter dodged by inches, feeling the discharge graze his suit, and countered with a hook to the side, sending him flying.
Without looking, he moved his hands back. Two web spheres shot toward the ones trying to get up, bursting mid-air and pinning them to the ground.
Peter turned, saw a gun on the floor, and kicked it with precision. The weapon shot forward and hit a man running at him with an electric blade right in the forehead. He dropped instantly.
"Much better… or does this color make me look fat?" he said, glancing around calmly while reloading his web cartridges with ease. "Though I have to say… black really suits me."
"Karen… is that everyone?" he asked, feeling like it had been too easy.
"Enemies down. 6 out of 7."
Peter frowned.
"Six?… oh, right. The boss is missing. Then I just need to go after him and—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Behind the pick-up, another truck slowly opened, splitting in two. From inside, two massive metal wings unfolded, slicing through the metal effortlessly.
And then… he appeared.
Rising into the air, a massive weapon in his hands, flying straight toward him.
"Ah… perfect…"
Peter straightened slightly.
"Then he's coming to me," Peter murmured, watching as the last enemy approached, ready to kill him.