Robbing Hood

"I'll admit, it all seems kind of obvious," Gwen Stacy concluded once she'd explained the emoting tips and techniques that she'd used in the film she was appearing in, "but when you step into a new role, sometimes these things can go right out the window. Believe me, I've been there."

"That's about it for today, but I've posted some videos with behind the scenes clips showing just how Zane Richardson works, and I really encourage you to check them out. Zane's an amazing talent, and he's really going places!"

Gwen beamed again at the camera, giving the viewer a look deep into her rich, blue eyes, framed by her perfect white smile and long, blonde hair.

"If you're enjoying my videos, please don't forget to like and subscribe. Bye for now!" she winked, before blowing a kiss and shutting off the camera.

Gwen gave a sigh as she picked up her phone. Even though the Christmas holidays were in full swing, Gwen had still been very busy. In between doing Christmas shopping, spending time with her friends and her boyfriend Randy Robertson, working at the Santa Claus display at Macy's Department Store, appearing in the indie film directed by the aspiring mutant director Zane Richardson, alias Erg, keeping up with her social media and patrolling the city as the spectacular Spider-Woman, Gwen had barely had time to sit down, much less take a breather.

In the past, Gwen had felt overwhelmed by the amount of things she'd had on her plate, but right now all she felt was a sense of accomplishment. She knew she'd done pretty well on her final exams for the semester, things were great with her family and friends, and she was making good money at work. Zane's production was also going along great, and they would likely be finished shooting before the winter semester resumed in the New Year. She still had to track down her old enemy Polestar for what he'd done the last time they fought, but Gwen knew it wouldn't be long before they crossed paths again.

Smiling to herself, she logged in to her Facebook account and uploaded a link to her YouTube video. Noticing the number of comments, she turned to look at them.

Hot damn, one commenter wrote. Do you realize that I could do things to you that you've never even dreamed of?

That was just one of the lewd comments that made Gwen's skin crawl.

Shaking her head, she did her best to delete the worst ones. She thought of the perverted attraction that her supervillain enemies Supercharger and Tendril had displayed towards her, the way many other criminals she'd encountered had catcalled her when they met her for the first time, the comments left by some of the supporters of the hate campaign Vincent Gonzalez had launched against her as Spider-Woman, the way Roderick Kingsley had leered at her, the way her efforts to try and reach out to any half-siblings on Facebook had gotten the same kinds of replies that Eliza Dushku and Linda Evans wished they'd never received…

Swallowing hard, she turned to some of the other comments that looked more promising.

Nice to see you're actually taking a production seriously, one of the commenters wrote. Why the hell couldn't you do it for April Reese? Too busy sucking it off your sugar daddy?

Gwen's face reddened angrily as she read that, recalling the accusations that she had only gotten a part in the last film she'd appeared in because she was sleeping with its sponsor. It also brought back uncomfortable memories of her audition for the TV series An Officer and a Mutant, when a producer with a grudge against Gwen had questioned whether she really had the talent to play a serious role. That had struck a nerve, and Gwen's yelling at the producer had cost her the audition.

Admittedly, the commenter may have had a point about Gwen's unreliability during the production. The problems she'd been having, not to mention the time she had to spend on her studies and superheroing, had kept her from fully committing to the production. Her lateness and fatigue had caused problems for the production, but it wasn't like she could explain why she couldn't keep up with her commitments.

Shaking her head, she kept reading through the comments.

I don't know who you think you're trying to kid, another commenter wrote. You're just another slut who thinks she can just make it on looks instead of talent, while really talented actresses are struggling just to get bit parts. Why don't you go do one of those Wild Things sequels? It's probably more your talent level anyway.

Self-control had been one of the most important skills Gwen had learned ever since her spider-powers had manifested over two years ago. It helped her out again, as she managed to avoid lashing out and breaking her phone.

Soon, Gwen began to regret updating her social media profile.

Rubbing her forehead, she tried to soothe the headache that was replacing her satisfaction.

SPIDER-WOMAN #86

"ROBBING HOOD"

Gwen's Christmas Eve date with Randy was a welcome relief from her frustrations. She had insisted on taking him to Papa Cicero's, the restaurant where she'd chatted with Zane Richardson. Zane had scheduled one-on-one meetings with each of his castmates to get to know them better, and when he'd taken her to Papa Cicero's Gwen had fallen in love with the place.

"How is it?" Gwen asked, once the waiter had delivered their antipasto and Randy had taken the first bite. "It's great, isn't it?"

"Delicious," Randy grinned. "I wish I'd known about this place sooner."

"Trust me, it gets better," Gwen assured him. "The lasagna here is heaven."

"Actually, I think I'd like this spaghetti alle vognoli," Randy replied, his words slowing as he tried to pronounce it correctly. "What about you? You're going for the lasagna?"

"The lasagnette, actually," Gwen corrected him. "I like it a bit lighter than the traditional lasagna servings."

"Figures," Randy grinned. "I caught your new video today-I'm really glad things are going so good with the movie."

"He's talking about being in post-production by the time the Winter semester starts," Gwen nodded. "We just have a few scenes left to shoot before it wraps up. That's the funny thing, though."

"What is?" Randy asked curiously.

"Zane was really insistent that we shoot everything in chronological order," Gwen frowned. "A couple of the cast asked him about it, and he got really flustered about it. I never saw anything like it," she continued. Both Randy and Gwen knew that movie scenes were almost never shot in the same order they appeared in the film, for any number of reasons ranging from cost control to actors' schedules, and Zane's insistence on shooting everything in sequence was extremely unusual.

"Zane's brilliant and all that, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's one of those 'auteur' types," Randy pointed out to her. "Apparently he's really finicky about scripts. I heard one of his last projects fell through because of all his fights with the screenwriter."

"It probably helps that he wrote the script for this one himself," Gwen shrugged. "If nothing else, he's definitely hands-on. He's really fussy about shots and performances, too-it was almost like what working with Stanley Kubrick would have been like," she continued.

"So in other words, he's a control freak," Randy half-smiled.

"Well, not so much that," Gwen shook her head. "He's really sweet and all, but he just gets so flustered when takes don't turn out the way he wants. Besides, it's really working-the film's amazing."

"Well, I'll definitely have to see it, then," Randy replied. "Who knows, maybe he'll turn out to be the next Kubrick."

They smiled at that.

"So how are you doing?" Randy asked Gwen. "You holding up all right?"

"Yeah, I'm…" she started, before she recalled the nasty comments posted on her social media sites.

She didn't need to say anything, as Randy saw her shoulders slump.

"Yeah, I figured as much," he sighed. "I've been watching your videos."

"So why did you ask?" Gwen snapped, more harshly than she intended.

"…Sorry," she continued, putting her face in her hand. "I just-"

"Hey, I was the one who asked," Randy replied. "I'm sorry...but I think I might know how I could make it better."

Gwen blinked in surprise.

"I've been talking to my parents about us," Randy replied, quickly reaching out and grasping Gwen's hand as she flinched. "I think things might be changing with my Mom. Would you be alright with me asking her something?"

"…What?" Gwen asked, the painful memories of her past interactions with Isaiah and Louise Robertson still all too familiar for her.

"What if you and Mom were to meet just one on one, without me there?" Randy offered. "I mean, I don't know about Dad yet, but Mom sounds like she's coming around."

Gwen felt torn and uncertain, not feeling all that optimistic.

Still, the Robertsons' rejections had been bothering her for a long time. How could she turn down a chance like this?

"I…" she trailed off. "I guess it could work…"

"That's my girl," Randy grinned, patting Gwen's hand reassuringly. "Trust me, it'll work out."

Gwen only smiled gratefully back at him.

It wasn't even Christmas yet, but she already felt like Randy had given her the best present she could ask for.

The penthouse was deserted for the winter, its wealthy inhabitants preferring to spend their winters in Florida soaking up the sun on the Miami beaches. It was likely for the best that they weren't there to see the monstrosity hovering up towards their home. Suffused with an eerie blue glow that radiated around him in a sphere, the creature was a grisly mishmash of human body parts and robotic devices, the result of a grisly lab accident gone wrong.

He'd once been known as Thomas Duffy, but ever since the accident that had given him his magnetism-manipulation powers he preferred to go by his supervillain moniker of Polestar. Tonight, he was engaging in a little light work to replenish his finances, something that was a little less conspicuous than the bank and jewelry store robberies favored by so many costumed criminals.

The penthouse was an ideal target for him. Its inhabitants were off in Florida, and its sophisticated alarms, time locks and security cameras were all easily broken by his magnetism. The metallic safe posed no challenge either, as Polestar easily pulled it open. The blue glow Polestar emanated reflected off some of the treasures inside the now-open safe, and which he eagerly gathered up. Opening the metallic box he'd brought along to carry his loot, he began filling it with plunder.

"Creative, sure," Polestar heard a mocking voice behind him, "but I'd have left all the security devices intact myself. It'd make them so much more confused when they came back and saw everything seemingly intact, wouldn't it?"

Whirling around in alarm, Polestar saw a man in what looked like a green bodysuit with a golden starburst on his chest. The man had shoulder-length blonde hair and glowing white eyes, and emanated a soft golden glow. Polestar immediately recognized him as Will O' the Wisp, a fellow supervillain who'd also clashed with Spider-Woman several times in the past.

"I don't know who you think you're kidding, Wisp," Polestar said menacingly, his blue aura starting to glow in time with the distorted static hiss of his voice, "but if you think you're taking my haul, then-"

"Hardly that," Will O' the Wisp smiled. "No, that's all the rewards for a job well done. What do you have there, anyway? Some diamonds, a stack of Kruggerands, and what else?"

"Not another step," Polestar warned the Wisp. "How the hell did you even get here?"

"I followed the magnetic trail you left in your wake," the Wisp grinned. "It's pretty easy to do once you think of it."

"You followed me?" Polestar demanded. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't tear your face off-"

"Besides the fact that it'd be pretty difficult to do?" the Wisp asked, raising an eyebrow. "I can give you another reason, too-namely our mutual interest, or perhaps I should say our mutual girlfriend."

"Who…Spider-Woman?" Polestar trailed off for a moment before he realized what the Wisp was talking about. "What the hell does she have to do with anything?"

"You mean besides the fact that we both have good reason to want her to suffer?" the Wisp asked. "Us, and a lot of other people?"

"What are you-" Polestar began, before he realized what the Wisp was implying and burst out laughing.

"Oh, I get it now. You think you can form a new Sinister Six to go after Spider-Woman or something stupid like that. Didn't Doctor Octopus already try that with Spider-Man? Somehow I doubt you're in his league…" Polestar continued sarcastically.

"Being in Doctor Octopus's league isn't as impressive as it sounds," the Wisp reminded Polestar. "Remember the Tomorrow Legion fiasco?"

Originally created by the supervillain Jack O' Lantern, the Tomorrow Legion had been a collaborative supervillain venture, where the participating villains would pool their resources to get more money and cause more havoc than they could by themselves. One villain, elected by the others, would coordinated the group's efforts. When Doctor Octopus had been elected leader of the Legion, he'd begun treating its members like his personal minions, ordering them around instead of working with them the way Jack O' Lantern had envisioned it. As a result, the villains largely abandoned Doctor Octopus, and he was easily outmaneuvered and defeated by the superhero Moon Knight.

"So then we all team up and go after Spider-Woman," Polestar seemed to roll his eyes. "Yeah, that's not going to work-we'll all get in each other's way, and turn on each other because we all want to kill Spider-Woman."

"Even if I cared that much about getting revenge on her, which I don't, I'd do it on my own," Polestar continued. "Unlike you, I actually beat Spider-Woman the last time I fought her. So get lost, or I'll-"

"Alright, I admit that you have other priorities," the Wisp interrupted him, his eyes flashing as he did so. "But here's the thing-how many times have you, or I, or any number of our colleagues, tried something only to have Spider-Woman show up and try to ruin it? Even if we don't try to run into her, if a superhero tries to stop us it's probably going to be her. So why not actually deal with her before that happens?"

Polestar paused at that. He looked down at the floor, an intense look on his face as he thought the matter over.

"…Good point," he finally conceded. "But what did you have in mind? I'm not wrong about the Sinister Six thing…"

"No, you were right," the Wisp nodded. "But there's more than one way to squash a spider," he cackled at his own joke. "Tell you what-meet me at the Bar With No Name in a couple of days, and I'll tell you all about it…"

Now it was Polestar's turn to laugh, as he activated his magnetic field and turned to leave.

Will O' the Wisp remained for a few minutes, smiling to himself before shifting into a ball of light and flying out the window in the opposite direction from Polestar.

He still had a lot to think about before he was ready.

Gwen's failure to capture Polestar, the insults directed at her by her online haters, and Randy's opinions of her all weighed heavily on her mind, but on Christmas Day she was able to set it all aside. She laughed at the fact that she and her cousin Jill Stacy had gotten each other almost identical Converse hightop sneakers as presents; she was overjoyed to see how much her mother Helen Lieber-Stacy loved the scarf Gwen had made for her; she was pleased to see that her aunt Nancy Stacy had taken the hint about the spa pass that she'd gotten her, and would be taking some time off; and she was happy to see her Grandpa Lieber once more for Christmas dinner.

At the back of her mind, Gwen knew she'd have to face her problems again soon, but she also had the positive things in her life to go back to as well.

Donald Gill, alias Blizzard, was known for his snow-white skin and hair, ice blue eyes and ice- and cold-generating powers. He was also known for being part of the infamous Gill family, that distinguished clan of lowlifes and hoods who were on a first name basis with everyone in the justice system. Whether it was armed robbery, drug dealing or auto theft, the Gills had done it, and done it very well. In fact, it was a family tradition for them to celebrate their parole by finding some way of breaking it.

Christmas for the Gill clan typically involved as many of the family that could do so gathering at a prison like Riker's Island, Attica or Sing-Sing, and then indulging themselves with beer, brawls and barfing. Attica was the lucky venue for this year's party, and although it wasn't even noon yet many of the Gills were already overserved. The fistfights had started earlier than ever this year, and the Gills who weren't participating were already cheering and placing bets.

Normally, Donald would have been participating with his relatives, but today he felt almost detached, nursing his one mug of draft and spending a lot of time looking out the window of the prison, not even paying attention.

That was reason enough for his mother Lucy Gill to come over to him after she and his aunt Rae had just finished beating up Rae's cousin Mike. She could tell that something was seriously wrong, and she was very worried.

"What's with you, Donnie?" Lucy asked as she sat down with him. "You haven't even finished your first beer, and you haven't even thrown a punch! Are you trying to embarrass your father and I, or what?"

In response, Donnie simply finished his beer and tossed it onto the table.

"Look, I know something's wrong, so just spit it out already. That Tarot chick is going to be alright-we've got Cecilia and Caroline looking after her," she continued, referring to Marie-Ange Colbert, alias Tarot, a supervillain inmate at the Raft that Donald had befriended and gotten his female relatives to protect.

"I don't get it, Mom," Donald shook his head in disgust. "Why do we only ever go after the little scores? Whatever happened to trying to go after the big score?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lucy demanded. "We've always gone after the big score."

"Yeah, right," Donald rolled his eyes. "We rob one bank, or we do a couple of B&Es, small-time shit like that. You really think that counts as the big score, even if we pull it off?"

"So what's your point?" Lucy demanded. "What's a big score to you, then?"

"Well, it's pretty slim pickings out there right now," he explained, referring to how badly the New York economy had been damaged by the recession that had hit earlier that year. "That hasn't stopped a few people from really getting the big score, though."

"Who? Your supervillain buddies?" Lucy asked him.

"No, those fancy Wall Street types," Donald shook his head. "You know the guys, all those fancy white-collar types that get rich off other peoples' money. They're the ones who are getting the big score?"

"So what are you saying?" Lucy persisted, shaking her head in annoyance as she tried to figure out what Donald was getting at. "We should be robbing those guys? What do you think we're doing when we hit the banks?"

"That's not enough," Donald replied, a smile crossing his face. "What if we were to go after them directly, and take it right out of their hides? Banks and businesses are all insured, anyway. This way, we really, finally stick it to the people who got New York into this mess, and we really, finally get the big score!"

Lucy just stared at Donald, before she reached out and hugged him.

"I am so proud of you, honey," she said softly.

Donald only returned the hug and smiled back.

The Bar With No Name was the place to be seen for New York's criminal class, as everyone from high-class mobsters to vicious gangbangers to costumed supervillains came here to spend their ill-gotten gains.

For Will O' the Wisp, it was the perfect place to sit and have a drink with some professional colleagues without attracting any real notice from anyone. Supervillains came into and out of the Bar all the time, and so neither the Wisp or the two guests he was waiting for would be seen as out of the way.

Polestar was his first guest, and the Wisp watched as the magnetic creature strode over to the bar and ordered a beer, before coming down to sit with the Wisp.

"Perfect timing…almost," the Wisp nodded once Polestar had sat down and they'd tapped their glasses.

"Almost?" Polestar asked in surprise.

"You're a bit early-not that I'm objecting, of course," the Wisp explained.

"Oh, right," Polestar nodded. "So who else are we waiting for? I haven't got all night, you know," he warned the Wisp.

"Neither do I," the Wisp smirked. "Fortunately, my other guest is pretty punctual…see what I mean?"

Turning around, Polestar followed the Wisp's gaze to see a lovely young woman in golden armor striding towards them. Her forearms and legs were clad in silver gloves and boots, and she wore a helmet of a matching color that allowed her long blonde hair to flow freely, while still concealing the top half of her face.

If Polestar or the Wisp had been able to see the young woman's eyes under that mask, they would have seen that her eyes were as cold and hard as the Moonstone she borrowed her name from.

Moonstone sat down with them in silence, her Bordeaux wine a contrast to the beer Polestar was drinking and the pale ale the Wisp enjoyed. She looked from one to the other, before she spoke.

"I suppose that's all of us, then?" she asked quietly.

"For now," the Wisp smiled back, his eyes gleaming brightly. "And I must say, I appreciate your both coming out to join me on such short notice."

"Yeah, well, like I said I don't have all night," Polestar replied. "So cut to the chase and tell us what this is all about, already."

"Revenge on Spider-Woman," the Wisp grinned. "Together we can accomplish what none of us has by ourselves. Only we're doing it the smart way, unlike Doctor Octopus and that Sinister Six idiocy he tried to pull."

"…Revenge?" Moonstone asked curiously. "I thought you said this was a thought experiment?"

Curious, but not suspicious, the Wisp realized, doing well to repress his smile.

"It is," the Wisp replied. "To see how we can break Spider-Woman. Us, and a few other people…maybe."

"…And how do you propose to do that?" Polestar asked curiously.

Curiously… the Wisp realized again, once more suppressing his smile.

"Well, that's where you come in, Moonstone," the Wisp replied, turning back to her. "I suppose you've had time to profile Spider-Woman, haven't you?"

"Spider-Woman's driven and passionate, of course," Moonstone started, a professional tone entering her voice. "That's evidenced by the sheer fury she used to display in her earliest confrontations…confrontations which you both participated in, I might add."

The disgruntled looks on the faces of both the Wisp and Polestar confirmed her remarks.

"Considering the determination she's displayed, even despite Jack O 'Lantern's attempts to break her spirit, it's clear that Spider-Woman has a powerful inner compulsion to do what she does. Emotionally, she's very invested in her actions as a superheroine, given the emotional displays she shows that are otherwise uncharacteristic of most other superheroes," Moonstone continued. "From there, we can infer that she takes any failures or defeats very personally and seriously. In all likelihood, she displays the same psychology in her civilian life as well."

"So how does all this help us kill Spider-Woman?" Polestar demanded skeptically.

"Easily," the Wisp replied before Moonstone could. "Attrition, my friend-if Spider-Woman is forced to continually fight time and again, before she can fully recover, she will tire and break. She'll become sloppy and careless, both as a superhero and in her civilian life, whatever it is, and she'll begin blaming herself for what she considers her ineptitude. Her sense of responsibility won't allow her to stop, though, particularly when one of her old sparring partners directly threatens the good people of New York. Soon, she'll become so strained and exhausted, so full of self-reproach, that she'll be unable to defend herself properly…and then she'll be easy prey."

Polestar and Moonstone looked at one another, then back at the Wisp.

All three of them smiled wickedly at one another.

"So…the three of us, then?" Moonstone asked.

"Not necessarily…" the Wisp replied. "The more attrition Spider-Woman suffers, the more easily she'll be killed. It's not just a matter of committing crimes-it's a matter of using our talents as effectively as possible."

"So there's more to it?" Moonstone asked.

"Consider it akin to the Tomorrow Legion," the Wisp replied. "We cooperate in our endeavors, each pursuing our own activities in concert as much as possible…so we can exhaust Spider-Woman. Past versions of the Legion tried to pit themselves against the entirety of New York…but we will only concentrate on our dear, little Spider-Woman…"

"Sounds like you've put a lot of thought into this," Moonstone nodded approvingly.

Approving…but not suspicious, like you should be, the Wisp thought to himself, managing to avoid laughing at her and Polestar's stupidity.

"I've had a lot of time to think," the Wisp replied with a crocodile's smile.

It was only a couple of days until New Year's Eve, but looking at the staff of Blessington Brothers Investments it was impossible to tell. One of the busiest firms on Wall Street, Blessington Brothers was known for living up to its slogan of "We Go For The Gold", and the high rate of return it generated for its investors.

The main office was abuzz with activity, traders varying between working the phones and analyzing the latest market returns. Secure in the upper floors of their building, the Blessington staff were all the more shocked when one of the main windows was shattered by a huge block of ice that seemed to blast in almost out of nowhere.

Several staff stared in shock, while others ran away from the blast of ice. They all reacted in horror as they saw the man hop into the building through the gaping hole his ice block had torn in the window. He was clad in an ice blue bodysuit with highlights of icicles on his glove, belt and boots, and stylized snowflakes on his upper arms. Despite the mask covering his face, the man's disgust was all too obvious as he looked from one to the other of the traders around him.

"What…what do you…" one of the managers asked.

"Kind of obvious, isn't it?" the masked man sneered. "I'm in a costume, you've all got a bunch of money…what the hell do you think I want?"

"W-we don't keep that much cash on the premises-" one of the other managers tried to reply, before the masked man turned on him.

The next thing the manager knew, he was lying on the ground, screaming in pain from the icicle spear that had pierced his leg.

"Don't give me that horseshit," the masked man shot back. "I know damn well companies like yours keep cash on the premises. Oh, and I'll be taking your wallets, too."

As he spoke, the masked man radiated a wave of bone-chilling cold, causing many of the staff to cry out and collapse, shivering uncontrollably.

"Wh-wh-wh-why are you…" one of the staff nearest to the masked man asked, unable to stand because of her shivering.

"Not so nice when it's happening to you, is it?" the masked man asked. "How do you like freezing half to death? Losing everything you ever worked for? Fucking sucks, doesn't it? After everything you assholes have been doing, screwing everybody else out there for years, they still call me the criminal? Yeah-that's bullshit, and you know it! All of you!" he continued, his voice rising to an angry shout.

Even after the masked man let up on the cold so they could move, the agonized staff didn't notice the smartphone hanging from the man's belt, shielded against the cold. Nor did they notice that it was recording everything that was happening.

When the video was uploaded to YouTube by Lucy Gill the next morning, it had received more than 700,000 views before the day was out.

The Facebook shares and retweets on Twitter ensured that it would get many, many more.

Blizzard's next three robberies went off without a hitch, and he had made off with nearly $200,000, even after sharing the loot with the flash mobs who had sprung up to defend him. Some of Blizzard's relatives had blabbed about the next places he was planning to hit, and word had spread on Facebook and Twitter about them.

Normally, Blizzard would have given his relatives hell about that, but the people who were getting wind of his crimes had proven immensely useful at hindering the police and security guards who tried to stop him. All he needed to do was share some of the wealth, and they'd be ready to go to hell and back for him.

That was satisfying on its own for Blizzard, of course.

More than that, though, he realized that he was finally getting the big score.

The big score.

The dream of every member of the Gill family.

Even though it was just after noon on New Year's Eve, getting ready for the evening's festivities was about the last thing on Spider-Woman's mind. Her spider-senses had alerted her to Blizzard's previous robberies, but she'd always been unable to get there in time before he and his gang were finished, or she'd gotten sidetracked with other crimes and emergencies. Now, though, the institution Blizzard and his minions were robbing was on her way home from where she'd had lunch with Randy. Once her spider-senses had triggered, it was an easy matter to get off the bus and find a place to change costume.

Swinging down towards the bank, Spider-Woman was confronted with a disturbing sight. The smashed front wall of the bank didn't attract her attention at first, as she was more concerned with the brawls out front. Nearly a dozen well-dressed people, likely the bank's employees, were each surrounded by several other people, probably Blizzard's flash mob. Some of the mob members screamed angrily at the bank employees, holding them down as others viciously punched and kicked them. A few of the bank employees were trying to defend themselves, but they were far outnumbered by the employees who were lying in the snow, the long red streaks of their blood standing out against the snow.

Scowling in disgust, Spider-Woman quickly came down to the ground, releasing her webbing in a wide spray. The angry shouts and taunts of the flash mob turned to cries of surprise and protest, as they fell all over each other and became entangled in Spider-Woman's webs. A few of the mobsters managed to avoid Spider-Woman's webbing, and tried charging at her, swinging bloody knives and baseball bats above their heads.

They quickly thought better of it when Spider-Woman knocked two of them unconscious with her sting blasts.

"The hell's your problem, you cunt?" one of the mob members shouted at Spider-Woman, who turned her glare on him. "We're just trying to get some justice from these sons of bitches!"

"After the way they've been screwing us all over, they deserve it!" another member added, as several more of the members shouted insults in support.

Spider-Woman's only reply was to web the mouths of the two critics shut, and then entangle the entire mob in her webbing, before she charged into the bank.

Blizzard only stared at Spider-Woman as she came in, his arms crossed and an ugly look on his face.

"I thought you'd be better than this, babe," Blizzard frowned. "I thought you were one of the good ones."

"I am one of the good ones," Spider-Woman shot back. "So what do you think that makes you and all your friends out there?"

"You've got your priorities all mixed up, Spider-Woman," Blizzard shook his head. "We're the victims here."

"Did you see what your friends did to all the people who work here?" Spider-Woman asked incredulously. "Since when is that your thing? You told me you were a trailer park boy, not a killer, remember?"

"Yeah, well maybe I finally got my head out of my own ass," Blizzard replied with a scowl. "I know I'm a loser who'll never amount to anything, but the shit my family does is peanuts compared to what these banker types do," he shot back. "Why should we be the only ones who get punished? Isn't about time we take something back? Why should they always get away scot-free?"

"So you're just going to sink to their level?" Spider-Woman protested. "How does that solve anything?"

"Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't," Blizzard snarled, as he held his arms out to the side.

"Or maybe I just don't give a damn anymore," he continued as he conjured a pair of icicle spears in his hands and tossed them at Spider-Woman.

The arachnid heroine reacted in less than a moment, blowing the icicle spears to pieces with her sting blasts. Unfortunately, Blizzard began radiating a wave of cold all around him, causing the temperature to drop dramatically as frost formed on the walls. Spider-Woman's charge was halted in its tracks, as she began to shiver uncontrollably. Even with the thermal costume she wore in the winter, she felt desperately chilled. Slowed by the cold, Spider-Woman couldn't avoid the flurry of ice shards Blizzard cast at her, tearing long lines of blood along her body.

"You know, I hate to do this," Blizzard said coldly, as Spider-Woman fell to her hands and knees. "I know your heart's in the right place, I know you're trying to do the right thing, but that shit doesn't cut it anymore. Could you even answer my question?"

Taking a deep breath, Spider-Woman spun on her hands, taking advantage of the icy floor. Lashing out with her feet as she turned, she caught Blizzard in the knees and knocked him off balance. As Blizzard stumbled, crying out in surprise, Spider-Woman forced herself to get to her feet and blasted him at point blank range with her sting blasts.

Blizzard staggered and cursed, generating a barrier of ice to shield himself, but Spider-Woman merely spin-kicked it, causing pieces of ice to fall all over him. Knowing she had to keep moving, Spider-Woman blasted Blizzard again, dropping him to his knees. Spider-Woman followed up with a series of punches, including an uppercut that sent him flying across the room. He crashed against the wall and rolled across the floor, cursing.

Despite her efforts, Spider-Woman knew she was in a race against time. The heat she was generating from her movement was helping to ward off the cold, but that couldn't last forever, especially since the temperature continued to drop. Once Blizzard recovered from her initial assault, she would be easy prey for him. To make matters worse, her webbing was almost useless, as it would freeze long before it reached Blizzard.

That gave Spider-Woman an idea.

Blizzard cursed as he got to his feet, his entire body aching from the beating Spider-Woman had inflicted on him. That might have finished him if they were in a normal temperature, but the cold had sapped Spider-Woman's strength enough that she could hurt him, but not stun him.

Smiling wickedly, he generated a pair of long bladelike icicles from his hands, as he turned to confront Spider-Woman.

He stared in amazement at Spider-Woman and her new attire. The arachnid heroine was covered in her own webbing, even covering her hair and most of her face. Only her eyes blinked out from the silvery-gray mass, which gleamed in the light reflected off the ice.

"I suppose that's a new fashion statement?" Blizzard sneered as he charged forward. "It doesn't really suit you, babe," he continued, slashing at Spider-Woman with his bladed icicles.

Spider-Woman tried to spring out of the way, but Blizzard noted how she mistimed her leap, clearly restricted by her webbing. He tore a long gash in one of her legs, but the other one slammed into his face and sent him flying.

That blow hurt-and although Spider-Woman was somewhat slowed by the webbing she was covered in, it was still shielding her from the cold. He generated another flurry of ice shards, intending to rip the webbing right off of Spider-Woman, but she easily leapt over them and caught him with a double sting blast. Blizzard staggered once again, and the next series of blows Spider-Woman landed on him were not weakened by the cold.

Seeing double from Spider-Woman's assault, Blizzard collapsed into her arms.

Despite his pain, he managed to look up at her as she dragged him outside.

"You can't answer my question, can you?" he asked her mockingly.

Blizzard noticed how Spider-Woman couldn't look him in the eye.

The police were waiting with Spider-Woman as she dragged Blizzard out of the bank. She expected that, but not the angry shouts that came from Blizzard's flash mob.

"I thought you were supposed to be a hero!" one man called.

"Yeah, if you've got enough money!" another man chimed in.

"Whose side are you on?" one woman shouted at Spider-Woman in a despairing voice.

Startled by the intensity of the woman's voice, Spider-Woman turned to face her after handing Blizzard over to the police.

"You're supposed to protect us," the woman continued, tears in her eyes. "We finally get a break, and you treat us like criminals! Do you think we want to do this? What the hell else are we supposed to do?"

"So beating these people half to death is going to solve something?" Spider-Woman demanded angrily.

"After everything they've done, it's justice," the woman insisted. "How's it any different from what you say you do?"

"No, it…" Spider-Woman tried to reply, but she was silenced by the look of utter despair on the woman's face.

Shaking her head, Spider-Woman turned away, the angry cries and shouts following in her wake.

It took all of Spider-Woman's acting talent to put on a brave face when she celebrated with Randy and the rest of her friends that night.

(Next Issue: Gwen tries to put Blizzard's words behind her as she finishes filming on Zane Richardson's new film, while also meeting Randy's mother Louise Robertson for the one-on-one lunch date Randy arranged. She finds that she may have larger things to worry about, however, when Will O' the Wisp continues his diabolical plotting, and Spider-Woman crosses paths with Polestar once again when he tries to murder his younger brother! All this and more in Spider-Woman #87: Fatal Attraction!)