"The specimen engaged the unit directly, sir. Two soldiers injured before Spider-Man intervened." Alex let genuine exhaustion color his voice, not entirely faked given the adrenaline crash setting in even with his enhanced physiology.
"He drove the creature off before it could cause further casualties. I lost track of both of them in the tunnels afterward."
Norman's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Spider-Man interfered with a classified operation."
"He likely saved lives, sir. The tranquilizers weren't penetrating the specimen's hide effectively." Alex gestured slightly toward Delgado. "This soldier was pulled under by the current during the initial engagement. Without Spider-Man's intervention, I believe casualties would have been significantly worse."
Torres, standing nearby with his arm in a makeshift sling, nodded in confirmation. "Vigilante's fast, sir. Faster than anything we could track properly. Came out of nowhere, drove the thing off before it could finish my men."
Norman said nothing for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the sewer entrance like he could see through concrete and darkness to whatever had happened below.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried none of the relief Alex might have expected from a man whose joint operation had just survived a dangerous encounter.
"Where's the specimen now?"
"Unknown, sir. It fled the tunnels alongside Spider-Man's pursuit. We lost visual before extraction."
"Unacceptable." Norman's tone stayed level but something cold moved underneath it. "Months of research and a promising asset for the program walked away from us tonight, along with two injured servicemen and nothing to show for the operation."
Alex noted, with clinical detachment even through his performance of exhaustion, that Norman hadn't asked about the injured soldiers' conditions. Hadn't inquired whether they'd survive their wounds or need extended recovery. Just the loss of research. The failure of acquisition. The promising asset, gone.
"I'll compile a full report by morning, sir," Alex said. "Including recommendations for improved capture methodology if we locate the specimen again."
"See that you do." Norman turned toward his car without another word, without a glance toward the ambulances still loading the injured servicemen, without any visible concern for anything except the failed outcome of tonight's operation.
Alex watched him go, the car pulling away into Manhattan's late night traffic, and felt something settle cold and certain in his chest.
'He didn't ask if they'd live. Didn't care that soldiers bled tonight for his joint program. Only cared about the asset slipping through his fingers.'
Torres approached, still favoring his injured arm, Delgado now wrapped in a thermal blanket someone had produced from one of the vehicles. "You alright, kid? Heard you took a hit down there too."
"I'll manage. Focus on your own recovery."
"Yeah." Torres glanced toward Norman's departing car, something unreadable crossing his expression. "Guy's cold, isn't he? Two of my men hurt tonight and a whole program's worth of research walking around loose down there, and all he cares about is the asset."
"What exactly is the program?" Alex asked, keeping his tone carefully casual. "Delgado mentioned something about enhanced soldier capability."
Torres's expression shuttered slightly, old habits of discretion reasserting themselves. "Above both our pay grades, Carter. Just know Command's invested a lot in this partnership. Osborn delivers results, we provide resources and manpower when things need muscle behind them." He nodded toward the departing car. "Man like that gets whatever he needs. Comes with the territory."
Alex filed the confirmation away, another piece locking into place in the picture he'd been building for weeks now.
'Not just Norman's personal ambition. An actual military program, official channels, real resources behind the push toward enhancement research. Which means whatever Norman eventually does to himself, he'll have cover. Justification. An entire apparatus that wants this to succeed regardless of the cost.'
Torres clapped him once on the shoulder, awkward but genuine. "Get some rest, kid. You did good down there."
Alex nodded and watched the unit finish loading their wounded, the ambulances pulling away one after another until only the empty street remained, quiet except for distant traffic and the faint smell of sewer gas still clinging to his borrowed gear.
'This is just the beginning,' he thought, mind already racing through implications, patterns, the trajectory Norman seemed to be walking toward with every passing week.
Obsession with power.
Disregard for casualties.
A hunger for capability backed now by actual institutional weight, not just one man's private ambition. 'If military brass are willing to sacrifice their own people chasing this kind of breakthrough, what happens when Norman decides the fastest path to results runs through his own body?'
The thought settled heavy and certain in his gut, a calculation his enhanced mind had been building toward for weeks now finally crystallizing into something he couldn't ignore anymore.
'The Green Goblin isn't a possibility anymore. It's a timeline. And with an entire program pushing for results, I don't know how much time we actually have before it starts.'
Alex turned and walked toward the subway, leaving the empty street behind him, already thinking through everything that would need to change now that this particular fear had stopped being theoretical.
Somewhere beneath the city, Curt Connors slept fitfully in a hidden tunnel, marked forever by scales he couldn't fully shed, watched over by a friend who understood exactly what it cost to become something more than human. And somewhere in a car heading uptown, Norman Osborn sat in cold silence, already calculating his next move, backed by resources and pressure that made his ambition considerably more dangerous than Alex had first understood.
The pieces were all moving now. Alex just hoped he'd positioned himself correctly for whatever came next.
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