Ben sat in the living room in a pair of house clothes, reading glasses perched on his nose, carefully rubbing down an old companion with a square of deerskin.
A Colt.
It had been with him for years.
Ever since becoming a reporter, this retired major from the 101st Airborne had never truly let his guard down. He knew far too well how men like Fisk and the wealthy elite liked to handle problems. The article had already been published, but retaliation could come at any time.
The basement of the house had already been turned into an armory, and weapons were hidden throughout the home in case the worst ever happened.
May came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of fruit. Seeing her husband polishing a gun on his day off, she felt only sympathy and understanding, not the slightest trace of blame.
Ben gave her a gentle smile. After loading the cleaned pistol one last time, he slipped it casually into the gap between the couch cushions.
"Better safe than sorry. New York keeps getting stranger by the day, and I'm not about to let this family get caught unprepared. Once the kids are home from school, how about we all head to Central Park for a picnic?"
"That sounds perfect," May said with a smile, leaning in to kiss him. "I've got cooking class today anyway. By then I'll have something new for everyone to try."
The joke had barely left her mouth when the front yard exploded.
The blast came without warning.
Every window in the Parker house shattered. The front door was blown apart. Even the crystal chandelier in the living room ripped free of the ceiling and crashed down.
"Get down!"
Ben moved the instant it happened. He flipped the couch over and dragged May down with him, covering her with his own body to shield her from the worst of the blast.
"What happened?" May asked first, checking Ben over to make sure he wasn't hurt before even thinking of herself.
Ben looked down at her too, then pulled the pistol from the couch with his free hand.
Leaning close to her ear, he spoke in a low voice.
"May, when I go out there, you head for the panic room in the basement. Hit the emergency alarm and call Clark."
"But..."
"Don't argue. Go."
Ben rolled out from behind the overturned couch first. At the same time, he yanked open a nearby cabinet and pulled out a modified shotgun loaded with heavy 12-gauge slugs.
Then a shrill, horrible laugh echoed through the smoke.
"Ah ha ha ha! This is touching. Truly touching, Mr. Ben Parker and Mrs. May Parker. Seeing the two of you makes me so happy."
Out of the smoke, riding a newly rebuilt glider, the Green Goblin drifted into the Parker living room.
From above, he looked down at Ben, who already had the shotgun leveled at his head.
"Who are you?" Ben asked, both hands steady on the weapon. "One of Fisk's killers? Or some corrupt suit's pet attack dog after I exposed him?"
"Fisk?" the Goblin snarled. "Don't insult me by comparing me to that overfed gangster. I'm here to collect a debt from the Parker family. Your article destroyed my empire. And your fine nephew, your fine son, took what little pride I had left."
"Today I'm going to crush the bones of you two old fools one inch at a time, right in front of New York. I'm going to show that self-righteous 'S-Man' what happens when he sticks his nose where it doesn't belong."
But before the Goblin could move, Ben fired.
At that distance, a 12-gauge full-power slug could drop an elephant.
Boom!
The shot cracked through the house like thunder. Neighbors nearby heard it and immediately started calling the police.
From less than ten feet away, the slug struck the center of the Goblin's chest plate dead on.
He was wearing Oscorp's newest polymer armor, something designed to stand up to heavy anti-materiel fire. But at point-blank range, the impact still caved the chest inward.
The shot didn't just interrupt his grand speech.
It launched him backward, glider and all, slamming him hard into the wall.
"Ghhk!"
The Goblin spat out a mouthful of blood. For a moment, he genuinely thought he might die. His insides felt like they'd been hit with a sledgehammer. The enhancement serum had made him far stronger than a normal man, but that kind of hit was still beyond what flesh could casually take.
More than anything, he had never expected resistance.
"You senile old bastard!"
He had not imagined that he, the Green Goblin, a superior being with strength beyond ordinary humans, would get blasted backward by an aging man in house slippers holding a shotgun.
To his swollen pride, it was a humiliation worse than death.
But Ben Parker gave him no time to recover, no time to rage.
"Never underestimate a veteran, son."
Ben pumped the shotgun, chambering the next round. At the same time, his other hand reached beneath the coffee table and pulled out a metal sphere the size of a fist.
It was one of Peter's high-voltage web grenades.
May, meanwhile, was not some helpless horror-movie wife who stood around screaming and refusing to move. She knew her husband well, and she knew exactly what she herself could and could not do.
The panic-room door slammed shut.
Now Ben could fight the Goblin without holding anything back.
"Now it's just the two of us in this house, green freak."
Ben gave a cold smile and threw the sphere with his left hand.
It burst open over the Goblin's head, unfolding into a specialized web net more than ten feet wide, crackling with brutal voltage.
"You think that can hold me?" the Goblin snarled.
He was injured, but nowhere near helpless.
Ben wanted to press the attack, but the glider gave him no chance. Its mounted guns opened up in a relentless spray.
"Too slow! Too weak! Old man, this pathetic struggle would be funny if it weren't so boring!"
Ben dropped flat against the floor, arms over his head. He knew the suppressive fire was too heavy. He could not even raise his weapon without getting shredded.
"So this is your righteous crusader journalist? This is your brave truth-teller?"
The Goblin waved his hand, and the glider stopped firing.
"Your article sent Oscorp stock into freefall. It gave those carrion-eating boardroom dogs the excuse they needed to throw me out. And you think you did something noble? No. All you did was move your deaths forward on the calendar."
He strode through the wreckage, grabbed Ben by the front of his shirt, and lifted the nearly sixty-year-old man clear off the ground with one hand.
"Norman... Norman Osborn..." Ben had already figured out who this monster was.
"Not bad for a reporter. But from now on, I'd prefer Green Goblin. And since you've guessed it, I may as well let you die informed."
"I know all your precious children's secrets. Spider-Man, Peter Parker. The S-Man, Clark Parker."
"Isn't it disgusting? What a beautifully fake family. The whole lot of you hiding behind masks. Peter ruined my experiment. Clark ruined my pride with his power. And you ruined my company with a pen."
"I'm going to kill you all on the Brooklyn Bridge. And I'm going to make them watch every second of it."
***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.
P@treon/GodDragcell