Looking from the shadows, we watched the mafia, seeing where they were and what they were doing. They seemed really focused on their bad plans, and we knew we had to stop them.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead. "Let's move in quietly, assess the situation, and then figure out our next move," I suggested, outlining our plan of action.
With silent nods of agreement, we sprung into action, moving swiftly and stealthily to get closer to the scene. As we approached, the sound of hushed whispers and hurried footsteps filled the air, heightening our senses and sharpening our focus.
"Alright, here's the plan," I whispered, keeping my voice low. "Mark, you go left. Loe, take the right. I'll go down the middle. Quick and careful, got it?"
With a quiet nod, we split up, each of us finding our place with practiced skill. The tension was thick as we readied ourselves to take on the mafia and save the people they had captured.
I swung down gracefully, landing in the midst of the situations. My Spider-Sense tingled as I scanned the scene. Seeing armed thugs surrounding the captives, I acted swiftly. A quick kick knocked one off balance, and I followed with a precise web combo to restrain him.
Loe, also known as The New Angel, moved swiftly and smoothly, his actions precise and effective. He started with a strong kick to the front, pushing one of the mafia members back. Then, he quickly followed up with several well-executed side kicks, taking down another opponent. Finally, he delivered a powerful headbutt to a third, leaving them stunned.
Mark, now as Nightwing, expertly wielded his batons, swiftly striking his foes in their left chests and right legs with accuracy. With a rapid flurry of blows, he incapacitated two thugs, leaving them lying on the ground.
As the battle heated up, I unleashed a barrage of attacks, using my increased speed and strength to my advantage. With a quick uppercut, I sent one of the thugs flying backward,before following up with a cartwheel kick to take down another opponent.
Loe kept up his fighting, smoothly moving between attacking and defending. He used a back push kick, knocking one of the mafia guys into his buddies, giving Mark a chance to do something.
Mark, using his eskrima skills, swiftly swung his batons, hitting his opponents with quick strikes. He used techniques like sinawali, hitting fast from different angles. One thug tried to fight back, but Mark easily took away his weapon. Then, he hit him hard, leaving him unable to fight anymore.
Watching Mark effortlessly defeat his enemies made me proud. Even though he'd only trained for a year, he'd improved a lot, becoming a strong vigilante.
"You're doing great, Nightwing," I whispered, keeping my voice low to avoid drawing attention in the heat of battle. I acknowledged Mark's prowess without revealing his true identity.
"Hold your applause, Spider-Man," Mark retorted with a smirk, a hint of mischief in his tone. "I'm just getting started."
I laughed, liking Mark's jokes even during the fight. "Yep, bravery is part of the deal, Nightwing," I answered, keeping the conversation light. "But let's focus on the task at hand. We've got work to do."
Loe teased Mark with a sly grin, his sarcasm cutting through the tension. "Big talk for a weakling," he joked.
Mark rolled his eyes, accustomed to Loe's playful jabs. "Careful, Angel, or I might just have to show you what this weakling can do," Mark replied with a chuckle, ready to play along.
I couldn't help but laugh as I watched Loe and Mark exchange playful jabs. Their banter brought a moment of lightness to the tense atmosphere.
Meanwhile
"Dad," Emily Hawkins said, sounding a bit unsure as she looked to her dad, Gary Hawkins, for some guidance.
Gary, a strong and supportive figure in Emily's life, looked at his daughter with a kind smile. "Oh, sweetie?" he said gently, his voice is a comforting presence to emily.
"Do you think I can perform the piano perfectly for the family gathering?" Emily asked, she awaited her father's response. "After all, it is a family event,"he added, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
Gary smiled proudly at Emily, his confidence in her shining through his words. "Of course, sweetheart," he replied, his words carrying the weight of a father's unwavering support. "You've practiced so hard. I have no doubt you'll dazzle everyone with your performance. Besides, it's your mother's family, the Felcoms. They're renowned for their kindness and humility despite their wealth. They accepted me, even when I was poor. But I want to be worthy for your mother so I worked hard to become successful and here Iam.
"Thanks, Dad," Emily said, her appreciation clear in her voice as she soaked in her father's supportive words. His belief in her abilities served as a comforting source of strength, especially amid her own uncertainties and fears. "And what about Mark, Dad?" she continued,her tone tinged with curiosity as she looked to her father's perspective.
Gary's gaze shifted to a distant memory, his mind retracing the path of his own past experiences as he contemplated the character of the young man in question."Hmm, Mark," he mused, his voice carrying the weight of contemplation. "When I first laid eyes on him, I must admit, I underestimated him. He seemed like just another skinny, unassuming boy. But during those incidents, he stepped up in a big way. He showed real guts and resilience. There was a fire in his eyes, It was like looking at a younger version of myself."
Emily's eyes widened with interest as she absorbed her father's reflections on Mark. "Wow, Dad," she exclaimed, her voice filled with admiration. "I had no idea you saw him like that." She paused for a moment "And seeing you suddenly recognize that in him... it means a lot," she admitted, her tone sincere.
Sharon Hawkins' voice carried from the kitchen, interrupting their conversation. "Dinner is ready, everyone!" she called out, her warm tone inviting them to the table.
Emily and Gary headed to the kitchen together, drawn by the promise of a delicious meal and the warmth of family gathered together.
Meanwhile
In the busy restaurant kitchen, Mary Rose Fletcher worked with her manager, Lory, handling tasks efficiently. With orders pouring in, Mary skillfully cooked, using pots, pans, and utensils expertly.
In the busy kitchen, a customer's voice broke through the noise. "Where's my order?" they demanded, making Mary jump into action.
"Coming right up, sir,"Mary responded confidently, her tone relaxed and assured as she sized up the situation.
With the order finished, Mary carefully arranged the dish on the plate, ensuring it looked as enticing as possible. Pleased with how it turned out, she carried it to the dining area where the customer eagerly waited.
"Here you go, sir. Enjoy your meal," Mary said warmly, presenting the dish with a friendly smile and a sincere wish for the customer's satisfaction.
As Mary went back to the kitchen, a man's voice caught her attention. She looked over and saw a guy in his thirties, his hands have tattoos bearing the number 69.
"Hello, waitress," the man greeted, his tone relaxed but his presence making Mary feel uneasy.
"How may I help you, sir?" Mary responded, her voice remaining calm despite the unease creeping up inside her.
Before Mary could even blink, the man's hand snatched her wrist tightly, his grip surprisingly strong. Suddenly, they both disappeared into thin air, leaving everyone in the restaurant stunned and bewildered, including Mary's manager, Lory.
"Mary!" Lory cried out, her voice full of panic as she stretched her hand toward the spot where Mary had stood only moments earlier. "No no, no, no! I've got to call the cops," she muttered urgently, her fingers trembling as she reached for her mcall device to report Mary's sudden vanishing.
To be continued