Equal And Opposite Reaction

He might not look a whole lot like Randy, the spectacular Spider-Woman thought to herself as she watched Luke Cage enter the office, but I can see why he admires Luke so much.

Even from her vantage point, Spider-Woman could see that Luke Cage had earned his formidable reputation. Well over six feet in height, and looking like he weighed almost three hundred pounds of solid muscle, Cage's dark skin gleamed like polished steel, a side effect of the industrial accident that had given him his amazing superhuman strength and resistance to injury. He carried himself with the practiced ease of someone who'd become a skilled fighter, toughened by a rough life growing up on some of the meanest streets in the country, but from everything Randy had told Spider-Woman Luke fought only to defend the innocents of his community, and anyone else who might need his help.

For the last twenty minutes, Spider-Woman had been watching the headquarters of the Heroes For Hire, waiting for them to open for the day. The Heroes For Hire were a group of freelance superheroes who sold their services, frequently carrying out everything from security work to rescue missions for pay, although they poured most of the substantial fees they charged into supporting everything from recreation centres to food drives for lower-income communities who needed it the most. They also routinely did pro bono work for those same communities, defending them against the drug lords, street gangs and other criminals who often tended to target the most vulnerable parts of New York society.

That connection to what happened on the streets, and the Heroes' role in defending their inhabitants, was why Spider-Woman had come. Her boyfriend Randy Robertson was active in supporting the Harlem community, and when many of the people in that community had been grievously hurt and killed in a bombing several weeks ago Spider-Woman had been determined to bring the bombers to justice. She'd eventually learned from the Heroes that the bombings were being committed by a new crime syndicate that was seeking to establish itself in New York, although neither the Heroes For Hire, any of New York's other superheroes or the New York Police Department had been able to find out much information about them…

…until now.

In her civilian identity as Gwen Stacy, Spider-Woman had been having a long and nasty feud with Felicia Hardy, an old rival from high school. Felicia had moved up in the world, apparently now having taken up with a prominent lieutenant in the mysterious new syndicate. In a bizarre twist of fate, Felicia had seized much of her boyfriend's knowledge about the crime syndicate when she'd killed him, and Gwen had subsequently absorbed a lot of that knowledge herself when Felicia had tried to kill her.

Spider-Woman shook her head as she began crawling down the side of the building, trying to forget about the disturbing experience with Felicia, Brigid O' Reilly and the thing they'd become, that had come to call itself Mayhem.

She had more important things to think about.

SPIDER-WOMAN #74

"EQUAL AND OPPOSITE REACTION"

As she walked into the lobby of the Heroes For Hire headquarters, Spider-Woman was startled as a door in the side wall was flung open and Luke Cage himself emerged, a steaming pot of coffee in hand. For a moment, Spider-Woman was surprised at the look in his eyes, a look of fire and determination that reminded her of a look she'd seen in Randy's eyes many times. She recalled the pride Randy had felt when he talked about Luke and how far he'd come, overcoming the adversity he'd had to deal with and becoming stronger for the experience.

"You looking to hire us?" Luke asked calmly as he sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee. "That is why you're here, isn't it?"

"No, not quite," Spider-Woman shook her head, somewhat startled by Luke's lack of formality. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

"It's a free country," Luke shrugged, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk as he put the pot off to the side and added some cream and sugar. "So, if you're not looking to hire us, why exactly are you here?"

"I'm here about that new crime syndicate that's trying to set itself up in New York," Spider-Woman explained. "You know, the one that committed that bombing in Harlem. I've already talked to Misty Knight a couple of times, and-"

"Yeah, yeah, she told us all about that," Luke nodded, "and about why you're so interested in those bastards. And if you're here looking for some more free information, you can forget it because we-"

"I'm not here to ask for information," Spider-Woman shook her head. "I'm-"

"Just get to the point already," Luke frowned, an annoyed look crossing his face.

"I was just about to do that," Spider-Woman shot back. "Maybe if you quit interrupting me, this'll go faster!"

Spider-Woman regretted those words once she'd said them, kicking herself for letting her temper get the better of her. To her surprise, though, Luke didn't seem the least bit offended. Instead, he seemed to be repressing a smile as he sipped his coffee, amused by her outburst.

"I had an encounter with a supervillain recently that helped me gather a lot of inside information on the syndicate," Spider-Woman explained. "I don't know if it's true, but I'm pretty sure it is."

"Alright, so have you got it on a memory stick or something?" Luke asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's all stuck in my head," Spider-Woman said in some embarrassment. "The supervillain put me through some really weird mind-stuff…" she trailed off, knowing how ludicrous the whole thing sounded.

To her surprise, Luke didn't seem the least bit fazed by her claim, and she realized that it didn't sound all that strange to him, given that he too had probably encountered a lot of strange situations as a superhero.

"Anyway, I wanted to share the knowledge with you guys after the way Misty helped me before," Spider-Woman continued. "I figured you'd be some of the heroes best suited to making their lives hell," she continued eagerly.

Luke took another sip of coffee, before a wide smile crossed his face.

"Well, you definitely thought right," Luke said with a wicked grin. "So, how about you start sharing?"

Spider-Woman only smiled an even wider grin back at him.

Even if they had no superhuman powers, the two men would have looked unusual, with their multicolored hair, the studded piercings and tattoos marking their skin and the dusters, ripped jeans and Doc Marten boots. They looked like any number of street gangs that infested not only New York but countless other cities across the United States, gangs that organized themselves based on ethnicity.

The Nasty Boys were a different kind of gang, however. They were all mutants, adopting nicknames in the same way as many young mutants did, using their powers to commit crimes and gain an edge against their rivals. Along with the rest of the gang, Solarr and Ruckus had developed a formidable reputation as street enforcers, most recently in working for the socialite crime boss Crimewave in his war with a mysterious new crime lord that was trying to carve out a territory for himself in New York's lucrative criminal grounds. Crimewave had recently hacked the new crime lord's computer networks to get more information on his rival's syndicate, and he'd ordered the Nasty Boys to deliver a message.

Ruckus and Solarr were acting on one of these missions, being sent to take out a major operation in a bad part of Brooklyn. They'd already hidden their motorcycles in a nearby alley, and were creeping stealthily towards the building they'd been ordered to hit.

"Refresh my memory," Solarr muttered to his buddy as he peered out from behind the pile of crates they were using as cover. "Were they cooking meth here, or were they producing cocaine?"

"It's a meth lab, dumbass," Ruckus rolled his eyes. "Why the hell do you think they sent you along?"

Solarr only grinned evilly back at Ruckus as they shared a quiet laugh. Meth labs were notorious fire hazards, which made the fire-generating Solarr a natural choice for the job.

They were finally at the edge of the auto yard they were sneaking through to get to the building where the lab was housed, when they saw the guards, disguised as sleeping hobos. For all that, the experienced Solarr and Ruckus could see that the three men were all alert and ready, having their guns concealed but close at hand. They couldn't see the Nasty Boys behind the wreckage the Boys were using to hide, but that would have changed as soon as they stepped out from behind it.

The Boys didn't leap up to confront the guards, remaining on their hands and knees behind the wreckage as Ruckus pulled a whistle out of his pocket. He blew on it several times, as Solarr did his best to hold back a sadistic laugh. Off in the distance they heard a dog barking, even though neither they nor the guards could hear anything.

Ruckus's mutant power was to absorb the energy of the sounds around him, and redirect them as devastating sonic screams magnified from their original intensity. The destructive power had proven itself useful on many occasions, but Ruckus had learned how to make greater use of it with the dog whistle he now carried. Dogs had much stronger hearing than humans, able to pick up sounds that were too high for humans to hear. Ruckus could absorb these sounds as well as any others, and unlike many of his other sonic blasts the sounds he picked up from the whistle still made no noises that humans could hear. It made for a useful stealth weapon when he needed to take someone out, but still needed to avoid being noticed.

The attack worked like a charm, blasting the guards unconscious before striking a hole in the wall of the building housing the lab. Blowing hard on the whistle again, Ruckus absorbed the sound and cast another blast at the building, greatly expanding the hole and exposing the inside of the lab. Drug operatives scrambled around for their weapons, caught completely off guard by the explosion.

Solarr struck next, heaving a fireball into the building. He aimed it at the jars of meth ingredients, helpfully marked with labels warning that they contained highly flammable liquid. His aim was rewarded by a bright explosion that stole away the night, as the toxic chemicals, the lab equipment and the people using them were all swiftly consumed by the flames. The inferno looked like something out of born out of hell, murderous fires accented by the screams of the dead and dying…

…and the sadistic laughter of Ruckus and Solarr.

Gwen Stacy did her best to hold back a yawn as she waited for her Women's Studies course to end. She'd been up until late last night finishing her homework, after having gone to the NYPD headquarters as Spider-Woman in order to provide them with the same information about the mysterious new crime syndicate that she'd given to Luke Cage and the Heroes for Hire. In between preparing for the discussion on the tensions between second- and third-wave feminism they were having, Gwen had also been preparing for a dramatic reading from Hamlet, wherein she planned to recite Ophelia's soliloquys from when she descended into madness. She hadn't been able to get much sleep, given that her schedule had been so messed up that she needed to get up early every morning for her first classes.

Going to the NYPD headquarters had taken Gwen longer than she'd expected, particularly as she'd had to stop a bank robbery and a couple of muggings along the way. When she'd reached the police headquarters, Gwen had then had to spend almost an hour and a half trying to talk her way into seeing someone who would be interested in hearing the information she had to offer, and then waiting for that person to be ready. Looking back on it, Gwen realized that she should have planned her approach better, not having foreseen that the police would be skeptical to anything she had to say to them. She could only hope that they would act on it, although if the Heroes For Hire backed her up…

"…Gwen?" a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"…Huh? Oh!" Gwen exclaimed in surprise as she saw Professor Lane and most of the rest of the class staring at her.

"Perhaps you'd care to share your perspective on the matter with us?" Professor Lane asked, looking over her glasses at the younger woman.

"Oh…I…um…" Gwen stammered, flustered as she realized she'd stopped following the discussion.

"Once again," Professor Lane repeated, a note of sharp disapproval in her voice, "what are your thoughts on Rebecca Walker's concerns of being rejected by previous generations of feminists for challenging their views, and feeling that third-wave feminists have to prove themselves to their predecessors?"

"Well, I…" Gwen began, as all the passages she'd read over the last two days began to run together in her head. "I'd think that third-wave feminists should be able to stand up and make their voices heard."

"Of course they would," Professor Lane replied. "That's the whole point of feminist advocacy, isn't it? Don't you have anything else to add on the matter?"

"Well…" Gwen trailed off, trying to think of what to say next.

"…Never mind," Professor Lane snapped at her, the irritation plain on her face for everyone to see. "As I've said before, advocating for equal treatment doesn't mean that we should be let off easy when we make mistakes or that we shouldn't be held to account for our errors. That's part of what prevents feminism from stagnating and becoming ossified," she continued. "Now, does anyone have anything else to offer? Yes, Lacey?" she asked, turning to another student.

Gwen managed to avoid sinking in her chair, although she couldn't stop her face from reddening in embarrassment. A wave of fatigue swept over her, as she tried to focus on the discussion again.

Despite her best efforts, Gwen yawned loudly.

Several other students turned to look at her, and Professor Lane stared daggers at Gwen.

This time, she couldn't avoid sinking in her chair.

"Intellectualism takes many different forms," Lila explained to Anastasia after she took a drink of her coffee. "Of course there are the works of the likes of Gore Vidal and Norman Mailer, but there can be just as much depth and commentary in works mass-produced for market consumption."

"How's that even possible?" Anastasia raised an eyebrow, her voice betraying her skepticism. "Wouldn't those kinds of commentaries just reinforce the system?"

"It's not necessarily about changing the system," Lila shook her head. "Take Buffy the Vampire Slayer, for instance. Many critics have discussed its impact on feminism and philosophy. Or, take South Park and its examination of everything from assisted suicide to attempts to curtail tobacco use. The Simpsons has had the characters quote everyone from Pablo Neruda to Honore De Balzac. Shakespeare is seen as high culture today, but in Shakespeare's time it was common entertainment for the masses, and actors were seen as disgraceful."

"I never fully understood the difference between 'high' and 'low' culture," Anastasia admitted. "I mean, who says you can't enjoy monster truck shows and operas at the same time, or watch American Idol one moment and Inside The Actor's Studio next?"

"It might have to do with how 'in your face' some of these things are," Lila suggested. "I mean, I just get sick of hearing all the Hollywood gossip about these flash-in-the-pan singers, and getting bombarded with ads for the shows."

"People pay for them, though," Anastasia reminded her. "They've always been interested in gossip, haven't they?"

"How do you mean?" Lila asked.

"A lot of the Roman historians talked about the scandalous things going on at the Imperial Court," Anastasia reminded her. "And a lot of the Greek myths show the gods in less than flattering terms, such as Zeus's cheating on Hera, and-"

"Cut!" the director's voice interrupted them, as the actors playing Lila and Anastasia stood up. They looked at each other briefly, before turning their gazes back to the director. Behind her horn-rimmed glasses, April's eyes twitched in irritation as she glowered at Gwen. Her long blonde hair was done in a braid, which combined with her faded jeans and plaid shirt to give her an oddly rustic look.

"What's wrong, April?" Gwen asked.

"Could you at least try to seem as though you're interested in the conversation?" April demanded. "You look like you're dreaming about Justin Bieber or something like that!"

"What?" Gwen blinked. "I'm sorry April, I didn't get as much sleep last night as I usually do."

"I'll bet you didn't," April grimaced.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gwen asked, her temper starting to rise.

"If I have to explain, it just confirms what I'm saying," April muttered, before she stormed off and began calling for one of the production assistants.

"What the hell was that about?" Gwen wondered, looking at the actress who played Lila, who merely shrugged.

"She's under a lot of stress," their co-actor Kevin explained as he came up to join them. "April wasn't happy at having to accept some of the sponsors' demands."

"You mean like hiring me?" Gwen frowned sympathetically. "Besides, I can see why she's upset-I'm just so tired…"

There was a gap of a few hours between Gwen's Women's Studies class and her early evening Drama class, so she'd been able to make it to the filming of part of the movie being sponsored by Jonathan Caesar, one of the owners of the Gloom Room A-Go-Go restaurant she worked at. Gwen had been cast at Caesar's insistence, but so far production hadn't run as far as the director clearly wanted it to.

"Hang in there, sweetie," Kevin assured her. "It'll-"

"Alright, we're done for the day!" April called to the cast and crew. "Pack it up, and we'll resume on Wednesday!"

"Did you want to get a coffee with us?" Kevin asked Gwen as they stood up.

"No, thanks, I've got to get back to campus," Gwen explained. "I really need a nap before my reading tonight."

"That's too bad," Kevin frowned. "Rain check, then?"

"Sure thing," Gwen winked at him as she went to change into her street clothes and get her jacket and tote bag.

Gwen was just emerging from the dressing room when she heard April talking into her cell phone, sounding as if she wanted to smash the thing against the wall.

"Look Caesar, you're damn lucky I agreed to let your little bimbo appear in this movie," April said. "Do you know how many talented actors are just dying to find work out there? And then some homecoming queen just drops in and takes the role, just like everything else? Do you even know how much privilege these little princesses have? I suppose you never stopped to think about it!"

Privilege? Gwen thought incredulously as she emerged from the dressing room and glowered at April, who had her back to her. You'd be surprised what homecoming queens have to deal with these days, honey…

As much as Gwen wished the day would just end, she knew she had to go back to Empire State University and get a quick cat-nap before her soliloquy in Drama class.

Empire State University's Student's Union Building was filled with couches and chairs that students could use to relax or study in. With university life being as stressful as it was, many students often used the couches to take naps on, resting in between classes. Gwen was one of those students, relaxing a bit before Drama class. She normally wouldn't have stayed this late, but with her messed-up schedule she had to spend a lot more time than she would have liked at the university.

Gwen yawned as she woke up, glad for the rest. Pulling herself up to a sitting position, she glanced at her watch…

…and realized that her Drama class had not only started, it was just about over.

Groaning, she slumped back down on the couch, remembering that Professor Harrison wasn't one for accepting excuses.

Well, that's probably going to be my first F grade of this year, Gwen thought to herself.

And here I thought I had everything going right…

Three days later…

Alistair Darkholme, alias the Chamelon, alias the Rose, was not amused.

The police, the Heroes For Hire and his rival Crimewave were all making life a living hell for his crime syndicate, striking at his operations and either apprehending or killing his operatives. He could understand where Crimewave had gotten the necessary information, by hacking his computer networks, and so he could take steps to mitigate the damage. However, it was the Heroes and the NYPD who were causing him the most grief, using information that they couldn't possibly have gained on their own.

His spies in the NYPD had confirmed to him that the spectacular Spider-Woman had given all that information to the police, and likely to the Heroes as well. All of their actions so far had been based on information that his lieutenant Angelo Fortunato would have known. Now, Angelo had been found mysteriously dead, killed by some method no one could detect, while Spider-Woman had revealed all the information that he'd known.

Alistair suspected the two incidents were related, although he had no idea how. His working assumption was that Spider-Woman had somehow interrogated and then killed Angelo. That wasn't very likely-from everything he'd seen of Spider-Woman, she was just like the rest of the city's superheroes in that she had not killed any of the criminals she'd confronted-but it was the only explanation he could think of that could even come close to covering the facts.

Not that it particularly mattered.

He looked across the room to his cherished rose garden, the bed of flowers he'd worked so long and hard at raising, nurturing it with all the love he was capable of. He had carefully pruned them, torn up the weeds by the roots, until they were ready to fully bloom. Indeed, the most important part of his scheme was just about to blossom, namely his plan to tag many of the city's most important and influential people with the Winkler mind control chips he possessed, named after the figure who had given the Kingpin the original idea of doing it. The Kingpin's efforts, which had involved the Chameleon getting close to the victims to plant the chips on them, had failed, but now the Chameleon, in his guise as the Rose, had kept the chips and had taken up the plan himself.

All the harassment of Crimewave and Philippe Bazin, as well as the random acts of destruction and murder like the bombing of the Harlem rally and the killing sprees of his supervillain minion Scorpia, were camouflage designed to distract peoples' attention from his larger goal of planting the Winkler chips, which would in turn give him control over so many of the city's movers and shakers. They would provide the perfect disguise for his criminal activities, their actions profiting his syndicate while being all but impossible to trace back to him.

Layer upon layer of deception.

Hidden truths that no one could ever know.

A mask that made people believe what he wanted them to believe.

And yet, even with all that, there were noxious weeds threatening to choke off his beloved garden, one in particular that had caused him more grief than any other.

As lovely as a rose herself, her heart-stopping beauty concealing the thorns of her strength, skill and courage.

In full bloom already, despite likely being barely out of childhood.

It was almost a pity that he would have to cut her down in the very flower of her youth, but he would do what he had to.

Some roses needed to be cut down for the garden to grow.

Even if he hadn't just done a long line of cocaine, Crimewave would still be feeling a tremendous sense of bliss. He had decided to treat himself to a night at the clubs after working all day to fuck over the new crime boss in town, the one who thought that he could get away with giving Crimewave grief in trying to take a share of the New York market for himself.

The new guy's attempts to wipe out Crimewave's computer networks had been the key to turning everything around. Crimewave's men had been able to lock down and protect his networks, while following the electronic trail back to the new guy's own computers. From there, it had been easy enough to hack into his rival's networks and get a readout of the guy's own operations and plans. Now, he'd turned the Nasty Boys and a few of his non-powered men loose on this new guy, trashing his drug labs, killing his bookies, stealing his contraband supplies, and employing all of the other dirty tricks that crimelords used in their wars with one another.

Even that wasn't the most critical thing, though. Crimewave had come to realize that his information wasn't being leaked through electronic hacking, but through the conversations that he and his lieutenants had been having during meals and other gatherings in various restaurants and nightclubs. Most of the places Crimewave and his goons hung out at were under Crimewave's control, or were all but impossible to bug, like the Bar With No Name. That considerably narrowed down the list of potential forums where they could be eavesdropped on.

Recalling what he'd said in each of those venues, and then seeing which conversations this new rival had acted on, it wasn't too hard for him to figure out which one was bugged.

Crimewave burst out laughing at that realization.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around a whole lot," Gwen sighed to her boyfriend Randy Robertson as they sat in the Coffee Bean. "I've just had so much going on…"

"Hey, I get it," Randy assured her. "Sometimes I wonder how you keep everything going…"

"I don't always," Gwen shook her head. "I did finally manage to get something really important done, though."

"How do you mean?" Randy asked.

"Do you remember how we were talking to Felicia Hardy a while ago, and I mentioned the name Brigid O'Reilly to her?" Gwen asked.

Randy looked up at the ceiling, as the memory vaguely started to come back to him.

"Wasn't there some story to that?" Randy asked. "That you said you were going to tell me about?"

"Yeah," Gwen nodded. "It's going to sound like something out of a horror film, but…"

"Hey, I've seen all the Nightmare On Elm Street movies," Randy assured her. "And after going out with you for so long, I'll believe anything," he assured her.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Gwen told Randy the whole story about Brigid O'Reilly, the bullying Felicia had subjected her to, the grisly prank that had resulted in Brigid's apparent death, the attempt by Felicia and her friends to conceal their crime that had turned Brigid into the nightmarish Mayhem, Gwen's battles with Mayhem as Spider-Woman, Felicia's hijacking of Mayhem's abilities and attempt to kill Gwen, and the knowledge of the organized crime syndicate Gwen had absorbed from Felicia, which she had passed on to the Heroes For Hire and the authorities.

"My God…" Randy said in horror when she was finished. "I knew Felicia was sick, but…damn…"

"Yeah, but Felicia's gone now," Gwen assured him. "And I shared all the knowledge she had with the police and the Heroes For Hire. They're going to help me strike back against the bastards who bombed the Harlem rally, who've been turning Scorpia loose on innocent people, who-"

"Why did they do it?" Randy interrupted her suddenly.

"Why did they do what?" Gwen blinked in surprise.

"Did you find out why they did the bombing?" Randy persisted. "Who ordered it?"

Gwen paled at the recollection of what she'd learned from Felicia, and wondered frantically how she would explain it to Randy.

"I…" she stammered, trying to think of what to say.

"You did, didn't you?" Randy continued, a sense of agitation in his voice. "Who did it? Why won't you tell me?"

"I…I'm just not sure how to…" Gwen continued, her mind racing as her heart sank.

"Damn it Gwen, I have a right to know!" Randy demanded, his face flushing angrily. "I swear to God, Gwen, if you don't tell me…"

Oh my God, Gwen thought to herself. What have I done?

"Felicia's boyfriend was a lieutenant in the organization," Gwen explained, hating herself more and more with every word she was saying. "He arranged the bombing at Felicia's request. It was part of some larger terror campaign or something."

"…Felicia requested it?" Randy asked, a sickened look on his face. "Why? Why did she do it? Don't tell me you don't know, Gwen-you read her goddamn mind!"

"Randy…please…I'm so sorry…" Gwen

trailed off, tears in her eyes.

"Why did she do it?" Randy persisted.

"She…wanted to get back at you," Gwen finally admitted. "She wanted to hurt you."

Randy slumped back in his chair at the news, his face ashen.

"I…oh my God…this is my…" he droned, seemingly numb with shock at the news.

"I didn't want to tell you," Gwen said quickly, trying to reach out to Randy. "I didn't want you to…"

Wordlessly, Randy stood up and left the Coffee Bean, walking as if in a trance, his face deathly pale.

You idiot! Gwen silently berated herself. You stupid, fucking idiot! Why did you tell him about that? You knew how he'd react, and you told him anyway!

You shouldn't have said anything!

God, can't you do anything right anymore?!

That thought remained with Gwen as she went home to get ready for work.

"Hey there, baby," Louise Robertson greeted her son as he came into their townhouse. She and her husband Isaiah had been badly hurt in the Harlem bombing several weeks ago, but they were now swiftly on the mend. Getting around was still painful, but according to their doctor they were both making excellent progress.

Any thought of progress or pain vanished as she saw the ghastly look on her son's face.

"Sweetie?" Louise asked gently as she sat her son down on the couch. "Are you okay…?"

"I…" Randy trailed off, not entirely sure what to say. His mind was still whirling with what Gwen had told him.

"What's wrong?" Louise asked in concern.

"I…" Randy repeated, trying to think of what he could possibly say without having to explain about Gwen's secret identity or where she'd gained the information that made him feel numb with horror. "I can't…"

Tears formed in Randy's eyes as he slumped into his mother's arms, as he coughed and tried to hold back a sob.

Holding Randy in her arms, looking at the shattered look in his eyes and listening to his pained gasps, Louise wondered what could have possibly made him feel this way, and why he couldn't talk about it to her.

Louise knew that Randy had been meeting Gwen for coffee before coming to visit her and Isaiah. Neither she nor her husband liked their son's girlfriend at all, particularly because of the way she flaunted her looks and her body as an actress and a model. They'd tried to talk Randy out of continuing to date her, but Randy wouldn't hear of it.

Now, with Randy looking as if he'd literally had his heart torn out after meeting Gwen, when he'd been just fine this morning, Louise couldn't imagine what else could have upset him like this.

I don't know what you did to my boy, you little hussy, but if you expect me to just stand by while you just treat him like another one of your pointless flings, you've got another thing coming!

Louise planned to sit down and have a long talk with Isaiah when they got the chance. She knew he couldn't stand Gwen any more than she did, and she knew that he'd be even angrier than she was when he found out what Gwen had done to their boy.

Gwen remained in low spirits as she worked at the Gloom Room A Go-Go that night. A part of her had wanted to take the night off, but her boss Renata had decided that all hands needed to be on deck for tonight. Many of the city's biggest names were here, including two of New York's borough presidents, at least three of Wall Street's most prominent names, the general managers of the Knicks and the Yankees, several major TV and Broadway producers, and more.

According to Jonathan Caesar one of the club's part-owners, the gathering was meant to send a message to the federal government to re-open the Statue of Liberty to the public. Closed after the September 11 attacks in 2001, the government had refused to reopen access to the statue after incidents such as the Red Skull's attempts to blow it up, the Secret Empire's attempts to steal it, and more. Giving the public full access to the Statue once again was meant to show that New Yorkers would never knuckle under to threats, and that they would never be overcome.

As much as Gwen might have admired that sentiment, it was all she could do to put on a friendly and welcoming attitude for the guests. Her mind still whirled with everything she'd experienced in appearing April's independent film, her dismal performance in the debate in her Women's Studies class, the F grade she'd gotten in one of her most important classes and most importantly the grief she'd unwittingly put Randy through.

This is all your fault, you know, she reminded herself, even as she made sure to keep up the smiles and show her enthusiastic support for the evening's theme. Randy's been through enough, and you just had to make his life hell all over again!

What kind of a girlfriend are you?

She filled every drink order to the letter, and her choreography was flawless during the dances, but she wanted nothing more than to break down screaming and tear her hair out.

"You're the guy the Rose sent over to do the job, I take it?" Jonathan Caesar asked with a smile as he considered the nondescript man in front of him. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Joe Smith," the man replied with a smirk as he gathered up the precious Winkler chips. "Or John Doe, whichever one you prefer."

The two men laughed at that, as Caesar went out on stage to rally the crowd and provide a distraction for Joe, or John, to do his work.

Joe Smith, alias John Doe, alias Alistair Darkholme, was indeed sharing Jonathan Caesar's mirth, but that wasn't the only reason he was laughing.

Once he had placed the Winkler chips, which would blend in with the skin of their victims, the people he placed them on would do anything and everything he commanded. Their influence, their wealth and their power would be his for the commanding, even as their use would be nearly impossible to trace back to him, much less prove.

Crimewave, the Heroes For Hire, the police and Spider-Woman could all harass his current operations without seriously crippling him. Those operations had generated useful revenue and gotten him a foothold in the New York crime world, but they were merely a front, a distraction for his true agenda.

Layers upon layers of deception, cultivated with loving care.

Like a rose garden.

Layers upon layers of deception, camouflaging what was truly there.

Like a chameleon.

Gwen had just finished delivering the margaritas and scotches to her latest order when a loud crashing sound erupted through the club, as a large part of the front wall caved in. Whirling around in surprise, Gwen was shocked to see what looked like a massive foot, almost fifteen feet long, withdraw from the massive hole the kick had broken in the Gloom Room's front wall. Several people screamed, as others chattered to each other in confusion and a few tried to run.

Those screams became all the louder as the three men walked into the Gloom Room through the hole. Ruckus, Slab and Solarr were all too familiar to Gwen, and she wondered what the Nasty Boys were doing here.

"Just think," Ruckus grinned. "So many of New York's biggest players here, all at once!" he grinned, amplifying his voice over the cries of the shocked and dismayed crowd. The smile disappeared from his face, though, as he saw several of the bar patrons, as well as the Gloom Room's security staff, raising their weapons to confront the Boys.

"SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!" Ruckus exclaimed, now focusing his sonic blasts at full volume. Many of the crowd were stunned unconscious by the blast, others sinking to their knees, their ears aching from the results of Ruckus's scream.

"And enjoy it," Slab smirked, as he started wading into the crowd, expanding in size until he almost reached the ceiling. Lashing out with his arms, he slammed several patrons and employees against the walls with a sickening crunch, even as he crushed others under his huge feet. Soon the walls and floor were running red with blood, as the Nasty Boys laughed.

Gwen hadn't been around to see Ruckus's screams, Slab's stomping, or the fire blasts Solarr was flinging around.

She had already slipped out the back door, looking for a suitable place she could hide.

Once she found it, she needed less than a minute.

Several people had thrown their wallets, jewelry and credit cards at the Nasty Boys, and Ruckus was indeed thankful for their generosity. However, that didn't stop him or his buddies from striking down many of the New York elites, even as he gathered up the treasures they were leaving in their wake. Neither Ruckus nor the rest of the gang were entirely sure why Crimewave had ordered them to hit this establishment, but the Boys figured it was a reward for all their hard work in acting against this new syndicate. Their contract with Crimewave was to terminate with tonight's assignment, as they would be traveling to Cuba for a little vacation. Once that was done, they planned to relocate to Mexico for the time being, intending to do some enforcement work for one of the players in the wars between that country's drug cartels.

The cries of recognition and relief caught Ruckus's eye, and he was able to dodge in time to avoid the webbing of the spectacular Spider-Woman, who had sprung into the club and attempted to entangle him from behind with her webs. Instead, Ruckus fired a sonic blast at her, forcing her to dodge as she tried to shoot another bolt of webbing at him. Ruckus only grinned, noting that Spider-Woman was reluctant to use her sting blasts in such confined quarters, not wanting to hurt any of the bar patrons.

Slab had no such reservations, stomping on several patrons as he reached out to grab her. He seized Spider-Woman around the waist, pinning one arm at her side as he began applying the pressure. Spider-Woman cried out in pain, before an angry look crossed her face and she blasted Slab in the face with a sting blast from her free hand. Recoiling from the blast, Slab loosened his grip on Spider-Woman, enabling her to break free as she shot him with another sting blast.

Slab stumbled back, but as Spider-Woman turned around she was caught square on by a blast from Solarr. Screaming in agony, she was knocked to the ground before she rolled around and came back up to her feet, leaping over another fireball from Solarr. Ruckus opened his mouth for a scream at that point, but this time Spider-Woman was the one anticipating his attack and managed to shoot a glob of webbing into his mouth before he could release the blast.

Moving his mouth helplessly, grunting angrily as he tried to force the webbing out of his mouth, Ruckus was forced to let up the assault as Slab came at Spider-Woman again. The first table he flung at her missed, but the second one struck her head-on and sent her rolling across the floor, right into Solarr's sights. The wave of fire he cast at her was deflected by the table Spider-Woman raised in front of herself as a shield, before she tossed it aside and struck Solarr with a double sting blast, as all the bar patrons had crawled out of the way. She would have struck again, but she had to backflip out of the reach of the charging Slab. As he turned to face her, Spider-Woman blinded him with a double shot of webbing, even as she tied his legs and bound his arms to his head as he tried to tear the webbing free.

Leaping around until she was on Slab's left side, Spider-Woman struck him in the back of the head with a double shot from her sting blasts. She struck him again, causing him to fall forward through the side wall of the Gloom Room, falling unconscious from the blasts and the collision. Fortunately, as Spider-Woman had anticipated, the few people who'd been on Slab's right had been able to get out of the way before he fell.

Turning around, she sprayed her webbing to smother several of the fires that Solarr had started, before springing out of the way of yet another fireball from the recovered mutant. Slowed by her injuries, Spider-Woman couldn't stop from getting burned all over her lower legs and she cried out in pain. Angrily, she tripped Solarr up with a burst of webbing from one hand, using the other to blast Solarr in the chest with a sting blast, knocking him unconscious.

Turning around to look for Ruckus, she took a grim satisfaction in noting that several of the bar patrons had jumped the screaming mutant and beaten him into submission. Unfortunately, that satisfaction paled at the carnage all around her, including the corpses of several innocent victims, and the serious injuries many more of them had suffered. The Gloom Room itself was badly damaged, with a massive hole blown in the front wall, a badly cracked side wall where Slab had struck it, extensive fire damage from Solarr's flames and a pile of wrecked furniture.

Many of the people remaining in the Gloom Room were cheering Spider-Woman's victory, but she hardly felt their praise as she left through the hole in the main entrance.

Let's see here, Gwen thought as she changed back into her street clothes. I'm probably going to lose some of the first acting work I've had in weeks, I screw up a major discussion in one of my classes, I blow a major assignment in another class, I've probably made my boyfriend hate himself and I'm probably going to be out of a job for a while because I let the Gloom Room get trashed, and I let a bunch of innocent people get killed by these psychos.

The old Stacy luck strikes again, and so does the new Stacy stupidity, Gwen cursed herself as she made her way back in among the bystanders to have her injuries treated by the emergency crews that had arrived.

(Next Issue: While the Nasty Boys may have been defeated by Spider-Woman, their mission is nonetheless successful in ruining the Chameleon's attempts to use the Winkler mind control chips. Enraged at having his plans thwarted once more, the Chameleon becomes determined to crush his opposition once and for all. He sends Scorpia on a murderous killing spree, which pits her against Spider-Woman in their final showdown! All this and more in Spider-Woman #75: Crouching Spider, Hidden Scorpion!)