The sweet aroma of vanilla fills the bunker, but the Christmas spirit seems to have missed these cookies entirely. I stare at the pale, slightly undercooked dough between my fingers, disappointnt weighing on like a physical thing. Even this simple task, following pre-made cookie instructions, I've sohow managed to screw up.
"Kid, these aren't fully cooked at all," Masters observes, poking at her own cookie with a skeptical finger. The snowman shape droops sadly in her hand, its frosted face sliding off in a sugary avalanche.
I'm about to apologize when Ellie slams her palm against the tal table, making the entire plate jump.
"Shut the fuck up and let Spider-Woman talk," she snaps, her blue eyes flashing with irritation. The symbiote ripples briefly across her knuckles before retreating beneath her skin.
Masters raises an eyebrow but leans back in her chair without further comnt, crossing her arms over her chest.
Spider-Woman shifts her weight from one foot to another, the maroon symbiote flowing across her suit in agitated patterns. She hasn't touched a cookie, hasn't even sat down since delivering her bombshell announcent about Norma's location.
"As I was trying to say," Spider-Woman continues, her voice carrying that slight dual-tone quality that still makes my skin crawl, "Osborn is in a mansion in upstate New York."
My heart rate instantly doubles, the half-eaten cookie forgotten in my hand. The monster who haunts my dreams finally has a location. I can almost feel the weight of the shotgun Masters has been teaching to use, can almost taste the tallic tang of revenge.
"Where exactly?" I ask, my voice steadier than I expected.
Spider-Woman moves closer to our small table, her movents fluid and predatory. "It's about three hours north of the city. Apparently, she owns this massive estate on Lake George. Very private, very secure." She pauses, the white eye patches of her mask narrowing slightly. "I have the exact coordinates."
Masters lets out a low whistle, shoving her half-eaten cookie aside. She reaches under the table and pulls out a bulky military-grade laptop, its tallic case scratched and worn from years of use. The thing looks like it could survive a nuclear blast. She slides it across the table toward Spider-Woman with surprising casualness.
"Show what you've got," Masters says, her voice all business now.
Spider-Woman's fingers fly across the keyboard as she pulls up satellite imagery. I lean forward, my heart hamring against my ribs as a sprawling mansion cos into view, surrounded by dense forest on three sides and a pristine lake on the fourth.
"How exactly did you get this information?" Masters asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "This looks like high-level surveillance."
"I have connections with SHIELD," Spider-Woman says without looking up.
Masters scoffs. "They don't usually deal intel like this away for free, especially not about soone as powerful as Osborn."
"I had to call in a few favors directly with Fury," Spider-Woman admits, finally glancing up. "I did so work with them back in high school."
"Did they say anything else about the place?" I ask, trying to focus on what matters. "Security? Guards? Other villains?"
Spider-Woman turns the laptop so we can all see the screen better. "Osborn has a lot of hired rcenaries on site," she says, zooming in on what looks like patrol patterns around the periter. "But no sign of any ta-humans. Just normal security with guns."
Masters' face breaks into a predatory grin that makes my skin crawl. "Well, hot damn," she says, studying the satellite imagery with gleaming eyes. "This sounds like it should be easy."
"Easy," Ellie echoes, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she leans forward to study the screen. "I doubt that."
I stare at the satellite image, my mind racing with possibilities. The mansion looks like a fortress, but with my teleportation abilities, walls and security systems an nothing. For the first ti since my rescue, I feel sothing close to confidence stirring in my chest.
"So what's the plan?" I ask, looking around at our small team.
Ellie's eyes darken as she straightens up. "I say we just kill everyone," she states flatly, the symbiote rippling beneath her skin in anticipation. "Every guard, every staff mber, anyone who might warn her we're coming."
I turn to Spider-Woman, expecting her usual heroic objection to unnecessary violence, but she remains silent. Her maroon symbiote pulses across her shoulders in what almost looks like agreent. The silence stretches uncomfortably as I realize she's not going to speak up.
"I agree," Masters finally says with a casual shrug. "We should eliminate everyone. We can't afford to leave witnesses." She taps the screen thoughtfully. "But if we want the best shot at getting to Osborn without complications, we should split into two teams, a distraction force and an extraction team."
Spider-Woman leans forward, her mask's white eye patches narrowing. "I should go for Osborn directly," she states with confidence. "I have the most experience dealing with her. I know how she thinks, how she moves."
"No," I say imdiately, my voice sharper than intended. The thought of soone else confronting Norma sends a surge of panic through . "Ellie and I should be the ones to go after her. This is personal."
My hands clench into fists under the table.
Masters taps her fingers on the table thoughtfully. "Venom, you're big and strong, right?" she asks, turning to Ellie with that calculating look I've co to recognize. "Why don't you and I handle the distraction? Create so chaos, take out the guards, while Spider-Woman takes Shane straight to Norma."
The logic makes tactical sense, but the idea of being separated from Ellie sends ice water through my veins. I open my mouth to protest, but Ellie beats to it.
"Over my dead body," she snarls. Her eyes flash with sothing primal and possessive. "I am not leaving Shane's side."
The vehence in her voice makes the room go silent. The symbiote continues to pulse beneath her skin, reacting to her surge of protective fury.
"Ellie…" Spider-Woman starts, but Ellie cuts her off with a glare so fierce it could lt steel.
"Not negotiable," Ellie says, her voice dropping dangerously low. "Where he goes, I go. End of discussion."
Masters sighs, running a hand through her short hair. "Fine. Then I'll handle the distraction outside alone." She doesn't sound particularly bothered by the prospect. If anything, she seems almost excited. "I'm used to solo missions anyway. You’ll have to make sure all the guards inside the mansion are taken care of though."
"Alright," Ellie says after a mont of consideration, then turns toward Spider-Woman with a pointed stare. "But I need to know sothing first."
Spider-Woman shifts her weight, the maroon substance across her suit flexing with her movent. "What?"
"Are you actually willing to kill guards?" Ellie asks bluntly, her blue eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Because I need to know if you'll hesitate when it matters."
The white eye patches of Spider-Woman's mask widen slightly, then narrow with determination. "I'm willing to do what needs to be done to end Osborn," she says, her voice carrying that unsettling dual-tone. "Whatever it takes."
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across Ellie's face, her teeth gleaming in the harsh bunker lighting. "Well, alrighty then," she says, sounding genuinely pleased for the first ti since Spider-Woman arrived.
I look around at our small team. "So we're going to attack her mansion on Christmas Day?" I ask, the words hanging heavy in the air between us.
Masters leans back in her chair with a knowing smirk. "It's perfect timing, actually. Heroes and villains usually try to take Christmas Day off."
"What?" I blink at her, certain I've misheard. "Are you serious?"
"It's unspoken, but generally everyone just wants to be with their families," Masters explains with a casual shrug, like she's discussing the weather instead of the holiday habits of superpowered individuals. "Even bad guys have traditions."
A thought suddenly occurs to . "Is Harriet Osborn going to be there?"
Spider-Woman shakes her head firmly. "No, I already talked to Harriet. She's alone tomorrow in her penthouse in Manhattan."
"Oh," I exhale, relief washing through . "Good for us, then."
Masters pushes away from the table and stands, stretching her arms above her head with practiced nonchalance. "Well, since we're all on the sa page, I need to go prep my gear." She glances at the wall clock. "It's already past ten. If we want to hit the mansion early tomorrow, we should all get so rest."
"I guess so."
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