AUTHOR’S NOTE: Events of this miniseries take place before The Amazing Spider-Man #1

CAT’S PAW

Part III: Boss Problems

By D. Golightly

The guttural growl coming from the assassin was almost enough to make her scream.

Lying in a pool of his own blood on the bathroom floor was Bruno Kreah, a retired low-level tech guy from SHIELD that had been the Black Cat’s recent handler. She could see scalp lacerations, missing teeth, and a large hole in his side where something had dug in and ripped out.

Crouching in the windowsill was his killer, as well as the source of the growl. His narrow eyes were slits and blood had stained his claws. His matted fur covered most of his body, distinguishing him from other killers.

He was known in come circles as the Puma, and he ran along the thin line that separated heroes from villains. Sort of like Felicia.

One thing was for sure: the way the Puma was sizing her up, he wasn’t a hero tonight.

The subtle growl turned into a roar as the Puma threw himself across the room at her, leading the way with his razor sharp claws. He slashed at empty air as she just barely moved out of his reach and backpedaled into the hallway. She slammed the door shut, buying herself a half second.

She must have gotten there only seconds after Bruno had been killed. Ironically enough she had been on her way to confront him, thinking that he had set her up. Maybe if she had spent a little less time going through the paces with Gambit…

No, she didn’t have time to chastise herself right now. Improvisation was the key to being a good thief, and it would seem that fate deemed it necessary for a refresher course in the concept.

A fur-covered hand punched through the wooden door, tearing it in half. The Puma was coming through, whether Felicia wanted him to or not. She had to focus. Had to concentrate. Keep her head in the game.

From what she knew about the Puma, he had the advantage over her in both speed and strength. His powers made him more of a cat than she ever would be. That meant she had to be smart. She couldn’t take him on one-on-one. It would be suicide.

Of course…being smart didn’t necessarily rule out cheating.

The Puma finished turning the door into splinters and he leapt into the hallway. He faced her, getting down on all fours like the animal that he was. He flashed his teeth and she suddenly felt very alone and very vulnerable.

She was sure that she had seen him earlier that night, just before she had entered a building she thought she had been hired to test the security in. She quickly recalled the fluid grace with which a shadow had moved from far away. The Puma had been tracking her before coming here.

He pounced at her again, this time spinning in midair and driving his foot for her throat. Even though he was beastly on the outside, apparently there was still a human man in the driver’s seat. The roundhouse kick was perfectly executed, and if the Black Cat was someone who hadn’t undergone extensive training, it might have killed her.

She blocked the kick with her forearm and returned the strike with one of her own. Flicking her fingers, her own claws popped out of the tips of her gloves. She slashed down on the leg before it slid down her forearm, creating three long gashes that ran with fresh blood.

He snarled, sweeping at her with wild strikes. She blocked most of them but several got through her defenses. Her black leather suit was torn along her side and her thigh, exposing naked flesh. She wouldn’t last much longer like this.

She somersaulted over the couch in the living room and the Puma followed around the side. She was in the open space of the room while his back was to the wall.

Or, more appropriately, the window.

The Black Cat’s innate ability to have the worst things happen at the best possible time wasn’t something she could always control. Mainly, it could fry an electronic lock when she needed it opened, or burst a light bulb when she needed darkness. Right now, with a bit of concentration on her part, she could will her ‘bad luck power’ to give her an edge in this fight.

The sprinkler system suddenly went off, causing a fire alarm to sound that was nearly deafening. The cold water soaking them, coupled with the disorientation of the fire alarm, caused the Puma to hesitate in delivering a killing stroke for a split second.

That was all the time the Black Cat needed. She rushed him and put all of her weight into pushing him through the window. The glass shattered and he went sailing out into the night.

“Got you, bastard,” she huffed.

She couldn’t waste any time to make sure the Puma was dead. A man like that didn’t get the reputation he had by letting such a mundane act keep him down for long. The Black Cat raced back across the apartment and into the bathroom. She knelt beside Bruno and lifted his head.

The shear amount of blood on the floor amazed her. She didn’t think someone could bleed like that.

“C’mon…c’mon…” she muttered.

Bruno coughed, spewing a mouthful of blood and saliva into her lap. She flinched but held him closer. “H-hey there, babe,” he managed to say. “It’s about time you s-showed up.”

“Save your strength,” she said. “I need to get you out of here.”

Bruno leaned over and spat out another mouthful of blood. It mixed with the pool already coagulating under him. “Not gonna happen. Barely breath. Listen.”

His voice was barely above a whisper. She leaned closer to his mouth so that he wouldn’t have to raise his voice.

“Sorry about set up,” he muttered. “Got me, too. Ugly cat guy came to tie up loose end. Should have f-figured it out.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He shook his head slightly. “Listen. Got a name.”

Felicia’s eyes widened. Up until now she had no idea who was pulling her strings. The Puma was one of the top mercenaries in the world, but he didn’t come cheap and he wasn’t a mastermind. Someone had aimed him and metaphorically pulled the trigger.

“Who?” she asked, the eagerness pouring through his voice.

“Silvermane.”

Silvio Manfredi. One of the underworld’s biggest and most powerful bosses. This was bad. Very bad. His street name, Silvermane, came from the bionic exoskeleton he was encased in. He had clout, and a lot of it, with all of the crime syndicates that operated in New York City.

He was dangerous, both physically and influentially. She knew because she had worked for him once or twice during her more adventurous and cavalier days.

“How did—”

Bruno shook his head again, saying, “Overheard the Cajun. Poked around. Puma confirmed it. He was last seen at Silvermane’s business.”

Gambit had shown her evidence of a paper trail that proved a friend of his had been set up just like she had. He had paid for it with his life. Now it looked like she was dead set on the same course.

She wrapped her arms under his shoulder. “Come on,” she said. “Puma will be back. We need to leave now.”

“Sorry, babe. Last op for me. Least…I g-got to see your ass in person.”

She ignored him and started to pick him up. The little amount of movement he had stopped when she was halfway up on one knee. He went totally slack in her arms and she knew that he was dead.

As much as it pained her, she had to put him back down and get moving. The Puma was probably on his way back to the apartment already. She couldn’t be here when he returned. She had gotten the drop on him once; it wouldn’t happen again.

Regrettably, she stepped over Bruno’s corpse and hopped into the same bathroom windowsill that the Puma has been perched in when she arrived. She flexed her wrist and the spring loaded grapple hidden in her glove shot across the street. It lodged itself and she pulled the line taught, and then swung away to safety.

Several buildings later, she dropped down into an alleyway and moved for a manhole cover. The rooftops hadn’t been the best place to get lost tonight. She would have to change tactics. The smell hit her like a train after she removed the manhole cover, but she held her breath and jumped in.

Sloshing through the tunnel, sure that her scent would be masked from the Puma down here amongst the waste and refuse, Felicia collected her thoughts.

Why was she targeted for this little job? What was it about her that made Silvermane pay attention? Was she in over her head? Should she just call it quits and leave town while she could?

She thought of the one man in New York City she trusted, but scratched the idea of going to him for help. The Spider didn’t always see her side of the story, and she didn’t want to put up with a lecture about responsibility from him right now. Besides, if she was going to get out on her own she needed to take care of her own problems.

That meant heading to the source of her problems.

Silvio Manfredi, for all intents and purposes, was an honest business man. He had been caught red-handed by both Spider-Man and Daredevil, but the charges had never stuck. They seldom did when vigilantes were involved. Lack of evidence coupled with illegal investigations meant that men like Silvermane had a decent chance of avoiding serious jail time.

He owned a corporate complex uptown called Silver Plaza. He leased business space to legitimate companies, meaning that he had a working front for his operations, as well as a shield from the authorities.

Her contacts in the underworld still knew what the real deal was with Silver Plaza. A few quick phone calls to verify, and the Black Cat knew exactly where Silvermane called home.

No fortress was impregnable. That was a rule she lived by. The trick to being a good thief was gaining entrance without gaining suspicion. Once you were inside the rest of the job was typically a cakewalk. Silver Plaza, while impressive, was not nearly the most fortified location she had come upon in her career.

The loading dock had a blind spot. Surveillance cameras lined the perimeter, but the gardener had neglected a dogwood enough that it had grown over part of the line of sight for the dock. There was no doubt that toward the end of summer the dogwood would bloom and look striking in the evening light, but if Manfredi had paid more attention to his security he would have realized the problem.

The Black Cat clung to the shadows until the right moment. Crouched beneath the lip of the loading dock, the closer of two cameras swung away from her, giving her the window she needed. With one camera pointed in the wrong direction, and the other blocked by the growth of the dogwood, she easily slipped onto the platform and into the building.

Once inside she located the freight elevator. Removing the light fixture cover inside the elevator car, she grappled up the cable until she reached the top floor that the shaft reached.

She pulled open the exhaust vent inside the elevator shaft and crawled inside. Her black suit was now covered in dust and cobwebs, but that was the price one paid for this sort of work.

Silvermane, and those like him, was the sort to keep his office on the top floor of the building. It was about the power. He was the kind of man that wanted to keep his subordinates directly underneath him, both literally and figuratively.

The air vent allowed her access to an employee break room on the tenth floor. It had been a hard climb, but the silent fury inside her gave her all the energy she needed. This late, the floor was empty. Whatever company Silvermane had leased the office space to had been long gone by the time she strolled through the lobby.

She had come this far. The lobby elevator was waiting in front of her. Typically, she preferred to move about undetected. A good job was finished when she got in and out without being spotted. Now, she wanted to be seen. She wanted Silvermane to know that she was coming for him. She was already halfway up his complex. He couldn’t just send the troops down to usher her politely outside. This far in, he would be forced to deal with her face to face.

Thus, Felicia pressed the up button on the elevator and waited.

The doors opened with a soft ‘ching’ and she stepped inside. She pressed the button for the penthouse suite and waited again.

The adrenaline was building. She almost felt light-headed. Silvermane was as dangerous as they come, and she was going to simply walk right up to him.

The elevator stopped. The doors opened. She stepped out.

The room was huge, taking up most of the floor space. It was completely dark, save for one lone light casting a halo around the far end of the room. A desk, wooden and old. Behind it, the man she had come to see about a problem.

“Is this where I mutter some ridiculous sentiment about curiosity and what it did to the cat?” Silvio Manfredi asked. “Or should we skip the banter and move directly to the more important matters.”

The rumors were true. Silvio Manfredi had made a deal with the devil and placed his vital organs inside a suit of technological armor. His face poked through the stainless steel skin of his cybernetic body, but otherwise the real him was completely encased.

The Black Cat took a few steps toward Silvermane, the anger inside her seething and ready to boil over. She flexed her fingers and out sprung the hidden tips of her claws, ready to flash out and cut the only portion of flesh she could see on the man.

Something behind her stirred. She turned, but she was too late. Felicia felt strong arms wrap around her torso and pick her up off the ground. Her arms were trapped at her sides and the breath was being crushed out of her.

The soft touch of fur graced her where her suit had been torn. The low primal growl returned to her ears. The Puma had snared her.

“Don’t kill her,” Silvermane said as he placed his arms behind his back. It looked wholly odd when that particular stature was taken up by a man that looked more like a robot. “Not yet, at any rate. I have an offer to make her.”

“Go to hell,” she spat.

He chuckled. “I probably will, if it even exists.”

“Why did you kill Bruno?” she demanded. She fought against the Puma’s grasp, but to no avail.

“He was merely the middle man, needed to get to you,” Silvermane replied. “Nothing more; nothing less. Leaving him alive would be leaving too much of a loose end, one that could come back at me later on. He had to go.”

“And me?” Felicia growled.

“You still have use to me. For the moment. I want you to go back to the Steele building and retrieve the specific data I hired you to collect.”

“What the hell could be so important?”

“This,” he said as he moved the back of his hand down his chest. “The cybernetic suit encasing my elder organs, while once a boon, has become cumbersome. Over the last five years I’ve discovered that my senses have been dwindling as my mind adjusts and assimilates the cybernetics.”

He sighed, as if recalling certain memories that caused him pain. It was then that Felicia saw Silvermane for what he had become: not the intimidating business man or even the estranged supervillain…he was an old man, desperately grasping for life.

“Do you understand what this is like?” Silvermane asked. “You’re young. Vibrant. I can no longer taste or smell, and I’m starting to lose my sense of touch as well. This body has become my eternal tomb instead of my fountain of youth.”

“So the information you want—”

“Will allow me to retain my humanity as well as the benefit of my cybernetics. Steele has developed software that logs neural synapses, and could possibly be the cure I need. If I can reestablish my synapse behavior then my troubles will be gone.”

“Why not just buy out the company if the information is so important?”

“While my public face is intact, my real one is not. Public humiliations by Spider-Man and his ilk have left me with few friends in the underworld. Thus, my resources from that part of the world, and the finances associated with them, have been liquidated.”

Felicia barked out a small laugh. She smiled a wide, toothy grin. “You’re broke,” she said.

The look on Silvermane’s face soured. “Hiring you to do the job and then having my little friend here kill you is much more efficient. Not to mention quicker. The legal process can be quite taxing.”

“If you’re planning on killing me then why would I bother going back to Steele for you?”

“Once I’m back to my former self I’ll be able to rebuild my empire. I’ll give you more money than you can comprehend…if you agree to stay on as a, shall we say, consultant.”

“Is that the same deal you offered the last guy who took this job?”

“Ah,” Silvermane said. “That. Yes. Unfortunate. He was lacking…determination. The sort of determination that you have already shown.”

The coldness and ease with which Silvermane alluded to the cold-blooded murder of another human being made Felicia’s stomach turn. Here was a man that had grown comfortable with despicable acts. He was actually used to ordering the death of another, or organizing some scheme that was driven by vengeance.

This man had ordered the death of Bruno, who had done nothing more than broker what he believed to be a legal transaction.

“So,” Silvermane said. “What do you say?”

While a large part of her wanted to tell him what he could do with his job offer, another smaller part disagreed. The lure of wealth dangling in front of her stirred up old memories. Since going legit the thrill hadn’t been the same. It was like a part of her was missing.

And it wasn’t as if she would be doing something wrong by helping Silvermane. He was an old, sick man that needed help. The information he wanted could save his life.

She opened her mouth to reply.

The large window behind Silverman’s desk began to glow a soft, pink hue.

Fzzzz-BOOM!

Brick, mortar, and concrete showered the room as Gambit vaulted inside. He swung his staff around his back and jammed the end into Silvermane’s face, knocking the crime boss over his desk.

He winked at the Black Cat, saying, “Miss me, cher?”

Felicia jammed the top of her head into the Puma’s chin, dislodging his arms from around her and sending him stumbling back. Blood poured from his nostrils as she turned and drove her stiletto heal into his abdomen.

The man-beast doubled over, growling. He slashed at her, but she did a series of back flips that took her out of reach.

The Puma followed on all fours, slashing at her as she moved. Several times she felt the wind of his strikes, but she managed to stay out of harm’s way.

She came within a dozen feet of Gambit, meaning that she was running out of room fast. The Puma would be on top of her in a heartbeat. She traded a quick glance with the Cajun, who whistled at her as he tossed his staff over.

She caught it and spun, slamming the end into the Puma’s skull. She heard something crack, but wasn’t sure if it was his head or the metal staff. Either way, the animalistic mercenary hit the floor and didn’t get back up.

The Black Cat was breathing heavily. Not only had the stint of exercise taken a toll, but the adrenaline rush had sped up her heart rate. She looked down at the Puma for a moment, making sure that he didn’t get back up as soon as she turned her back.

“Mind if I have that back?” Gambit asked as he stepped beside her. “Kind of a keepsake.”

She pulled her eyes away and looked at him. His casual swagger and devilish smile made him look more at home in a night club rather than the top floor of a mobster’s headquarters.

“Silvermane—” she began to say.

“He ain’t getting’ up anytime soon, cher. Trust ol’ Gambit on dat one. The police will have some fun carrying him downstairs.”

She gently tossed him back his staff. “You called the cops.” she said. “Thought you were a thief.”

“A thieve with honor,” he replied. “We got to look out for our own, eh?”

“You been following me this whole time?”

“You go ‘round wearing a suit like that, and you think I won’t be tailin’ you?”

The special detachment of NYPD that dealt with super-criminals forced Silvermane and the Puma into their detention vehicle. The plating was six inches thick, ensuring that only a nuclear strike would be able to get them out once the doors were locked.

The Black Cat stood perched atop the adjacent building, watching the police collect the two criminals. With the evidence that Gambit had provided linking Silvermane to the death of his friend, there was no way that he could avoid jail time now.

It wasn’t the perfect way to avenge Bruno’s death, but it would have to do.

The Black Cat was going to have to rethink things. Walking the line the way she did wasn’t going to cut it. For a moment, back in Silvermane’s office, she had hesitated. The answers weren’t as clear as they used to be.

The old Felicia Hardy would have taken the money and run. The new one…well, she wasn’t so sure. The desire was there, but the determination that Manfredi seemed to register in her was a little loose for her tastes.

In the corner of her eye she caught a red and blue blur swing by. She turned to see a familiar figure move away from her and head for downtown, apparently unaware of what had transpired at Silver Plaza.

Maybe a little serendipity in her life would be nice for a change. She could make her own luck. Change the course of events as she saw fit. Not let someone else call the shots. Be her own person, without a handler or an employer.

She smiled and stepped up on the ledge of the roof to give chase. She raised her arm, launched her zip line…

…and then swung away in the opposite direction.