Maguire, Garfield, and Holland stepped out of the S.H.I.E.L.D. field office.
This time, Nick Fury and the others were smart enough to walk them out as well.
Maguire glanced at Fury.
"Get these two kids home. You can handle that much, right?"
"Aren't they your teammates?" Fury asked.
"Some friend you are," he thought, speechless—but he still said aloud, "Of course. No problem."
Garfield and Holland looked stricken.
"So… we're… being ditched?"
Maguire turned to Natasha.
"Let's go, gorgeous. Drinks."
Natasha smiled and slid into his luxury car.
Maguire stomped the accelerator; the car shot forward, leaving Garfield and Holland frozen on the curb.
"Dude, that's cold," Garfield muttered.
Then, thinking of May, he frowned to himself:
"Maguire and Natasha again? What about Aunt May?
Is he… choosing?"
He clearly hadn't heard the saying: children choose—adults take it all.
In the car, Natasha studied him.
Maguire chuckled. "Relax. By tonight, I'll be even stronger."
Natasha rolled her eyes—unfathomably stunning in that moment.
A sudden brake sent her pitching forward. She stared at him, puzzled.
Maguire's grin turned wicked.
"Want to feel what it's like to go to heaven?"
Her smile went curious. "Here?"
"Of course. Out there," he said. "Get out."
Natasha peered at the empty stretch of countryside.
"Outdoors? That's… new."
"Where else? You can't go to heaven inside the car."
He opened the door and stepped out.
Natasha blinked. "We're really doing this… out here?" She followed him out.
He reached for her—and, to her shock, they began to rise.
They lifted slowly into the air.
"He can fly too…" Natasha's heart pounded. "Terrifying. Good thing Fury didn't pick a fight, or S.H.I.E.L.D. would be finished.
So 'going to heaven' really meant… going to the sky. And here I thought—"
Maguire carried her higher, not even close to his top speed—otherwise she wouldn't just "go to heaven," she'd go west.
From the night sky they looked down on the river of headlights and the grid of glowing streets.
With a peerless beauty in his arms, Maguire felt a surge of pride and let out a shout in flawless Mandarin:
"A great man—"
Natasha answered without missing a beat, also in Mandarin,
"—awake, holds the world's power."
From the marrow of his bones, he answered the couplet,
"—drunk, reclines upon a beauty's lap."
He stared at her, stunned. "You speak Longguo Chinese?"
Natasha only shifted closer. Something unreadable flickered in her eyes.
Before long, Maguire brought her back down to the car and headed for the city.
The next morning, Maguire rose slowly.
Natasha was still sleeping like a log.
At noon, Stark Industries held a press conference.
Tony Stark publicly announced the termination of all weapons-development programs.
The bombshell sent shockwaves through the industry.
With Norman Osborn dead, Oscorp was leaderless, and the arms market already roiling. Now the sector's biggest American player was stepping back—every competitor started scheming.
Inside Stark Tower, a heavyset bald man stormed toward Tony's office: Obadiah Stane, Stark Industries' vice president.
He burst in.
"Tony? Why? Why shut down weapons development?"
Tony looked at him coolly.
"It's my decision."
Obadiah swallowed it. Tony was the helmsman here. He forced a smile.
"Fine. I trust you, Tony."
He turned away—but the instant his face was out of sight, it twisted with a dark, ugly malice.
Back in his own office, he slammed a palm onto the desk.
"Oscorp's head is gone—this once-in-a-century chance—and he quits weapons?
That kid can't be allowed to stay.
Hahahaha… then I'll be the richest man in the world."
While Obadiah daydreamed, over at Fisk Tower, Wilson Fisk—the Kingpin—sat with reverent deference before the young man in the boss chair.
Our Bully Maguire drew on his cigar, smoke curling.
On the screen beside him played the footage of Tony's announcement to halt weapons R&D.
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