08. black water
(🕸🧷🎒🤟🏼🕷)
a venetian street
ext. night

VENICE WAS IN ITS QUIET hours. The shops and homes that lined the water were dark, and all the windows were shuttered.

     That made Gavin's job a hell of a lot easier.

     "Talk to me, Maria. What am I looking for?" Gavin touched his earpiece, crouched by the edge of the canal. He watched the little waves lap against the tethered gondolas.

     "I'm not sure. NSA picked up chatter about three hours ago, but their channels have been quiet since."

     "Shocker," Gavin muttered. "...Something's gotta be here they don't want anyone to find."

     "You're sure about that?"

     "Yeah." He stood, the water to his back as he started to search along the wall, fingers working themselves in the grooves and along the surface of the brick. Gavin paused, feeling out the shape of an S. He reached into his back pocket and produced a switch blade, starting to scrape away the mortar.

"...What're you doing?"

"Trying to—" The brick came out of the wall little effort. It was hollow inside, except for a slip of paper. Gavin shook it out, staring at it in his palm.

"Carver?"

"Found something," he told her. "It makes sense. Using symbols, leaving notes—it's Kobra's M.O."

     "Well,  just—wait a minute—"

     "Yeah...? I'm waiting."

     "No—shut up. I'm detecting a heat signature. Gavin, get out of there," she warned.

     He huffed a little, beginning to unfold the paper. "Ten bucks it's a drunk tourist."

"Gav—ge—you—"

     His comm went dead. Gavin tapped it frantically. "Hill? Maria—hey—"

     "Drop the paper."

     Gavin felt the cool touch of a gun against the back of his head. The voice was a woman's: clear and with an accent, French maybe. He gritted his teeth, letting the piece of paper slip from his fingers. "I'm surprised you didn't send someone else to do your dirty work," he chided. "That Stark shipment must really be worth it for you to crawl out of your snake pit."

The woman laughed. "All bark, no bite—per usual. It's nice to know you're still useless without someone whispering in your ear. But, I'm afraid Agent Hill won't be joining us. I like my privacy."

Gavin turned to face her, staring down the barrel of her gun. "What do you want, Dee? Why are you here?"

Freida looked as though she didn't know the answer to that. "You're not going to ask me how I've been?"

"Terrible, I hope."

She allowed herself a little chuckle. "I was doing a lot better before I heard the unfortunate news from Brooklyn. You killed two of my men. SHIELD didn't teach you to play nice with others."

"I'm not in the mood," Gavin spat. "What's on the paper?"

Frieda kept the gun trained on him. "The date and time of the shipment—for our buyer. Not that it concerns you. You won't be alive to intercept it."

"You planning on shooting me?"

"...The thought had crossed my mind."

     Gavin just shook his head. "I'm not doing this, Frieda. You wouldn't be here unless that shipment wasn't worth something to you. I'm not talking about the money, either. What's going on?"

     She pressed the gun against his temple, taking a step forward. "You—that's why. You kill my people, stick your nose in my business—I'd call that personal." Freida's chest was rising and falling quickly, as if the weight of the gun was tiring her. "Since we're —" She smiled a little "—friends, I'll give you a chance to walk away. Leave it alone."

     "Can't do that. What do you want with Stark tech, Dee? Who's your buyer?"

      Frieda sighed, lips curling in disappointment. "I was afraid you'd say that."

     There was a loud noise, like a whish. Gavin felt a sharp pinch in his shoulder. He pulled a micro dart out of his skin, eyes widening in realization. Frantic, he scanned the rooftops, able to catch sight of a lone sniper before they dropped out of view. He stumbled backwards, trying to brace himself against the wall. Gavin's vision was failing, and he barely felt a thing as he hit the ground.

     Before he blacked out, he watched as Frieda stood over him. "You're off your game, Carver. We can fix that." Her voice echoed around in his head, like she was far away. Gavin's eyes shut and he slipped into darkness.

____________________

     "Y'know, you haven't mentioned MJ once since we got here. I think all the Gavin stuff is throwing you off. You need to chill, y'know?"

     "What?" Peter hummed, absent-mindedly scrolling through his phone.

     "You haven't been talking about MJ. I thought you said you wanted to ask her out?" Ned raised an eyebrow.

     Peter regarded his friend from across the crumbly Venetian hotel room they shared. Ned was sitting up in bed, his computer in his lap and a critical look on his face. "Because Gavin is ruining it. How am I supposed to talk to her with him breathing down my neck the whole trip? We're all supposed to go out and look around tomorrow—he's gonna make me help with his dumb paper."

     "I dunno. I think you're overreacting. Gavin is pretty chill. You could probably just explain it to him, and he'd back off a little."

Peter made a face. "I can't talk about that with him, are you kidding me? I need to interact with him as little as possible. If Flash or someone found out he was May's boyfriend, I'd never make it to college alive." He glanced back down at his phone. "Besides, Gavin doesn't know about that stuff—I'm not getting dating advice from a guy who only wears kakis."

"...I mean, he got with May somehow," Ned pointed out, trying to gauge Peter's reaction.

Maybe Ned had a point. He looked at the door that separated the suite, Gavin's room on the other side. Peter slid out of bed, seemingly bracing himself. "Okay—what do I say? 'Hey, you being...you...is gonna make it hard for me to hang out with this girl I like, please leave me alone tomorrow'?"

"Yeah, maybe don't led with that," his friend suggested drolly, leading back against the wall and starting to type on his laptop.

Peter sighed, knocking twice on the door. He listened for movement—creaking of the bed and feet on the worn floorboards. Nothing. "Gavin?" he called out, fist raised to knock again. "Can I talk to you for a second?" A half a minute went by. Peter turned the knob, lips parting slightly as he was met with an empty room.

"...Dude, he's not here," he looked over his shoulder at Ned, who merely shrugged. Peter started to pace the space between their beds. "Where would be even go?" Peter pulled himself up onto the edge of his bed, mind turning. His eyes widened suddenly. "Wait, what if—"

Ned just shook his head, holding out a hand. "Nuh-uh—no, you're doing that thing. You're starting the thing you do about him—"

"I'm not starting anything," Peter rolled his eyes. "I just think that Gavin has a history of being kinda shady, and if he's suddenly gone in the middle of the night, that counts as shady."

"Or he could just be...I dunno, going for a walk— whatever adults do. Who cares?"

"Me, I care!" Peter emphasized it by pointing at his chest. "Do you think he's with that Maria lady?"

     "...I think that if Gavin's cheating on May, this has nothing to do with it. You said that he told you Maria is from work. Why the heck would she be here?"

     Peter chewed his bottom lip. "I dunno. Maybe it's someone else. I don't know, okay? I'll know when I find him." He pulled his suitcase from under the bed, rifling through it until he pulled out his suit. Peter started to get changed. "You'll cover me, right? I need my guy in the chair."

     Ned heaved a sigh, as if he'd grown tired of arguing. "Yeah—okay. Whatever. But, one problem with that: if he sees you, I think he's gonna wonder why Spider-Man is in freaking Italy."

     "He's not gonna see me. I'm just gonna watch him. I think May deserves to know if Gavin's like that or not." Peter pulled the mask over his head.

     "...Uh huh, that isn't what this is about, and you know it," Ned accused. "But—" He typed frantically. "I'm hooked up to the suit. Please don't get on like, YouTube in Italy or something."

     "You rock, Ned."

     "Uh, huh..." Ned repeated, eyes glued to the screen. But, Peter was already gone, swinging out into the dark streets of Venice.