But… It’s me! The real Spider-Man!

On the third day the mercenary decided that she had been an obedient patient enough, it was time to know her honor. Of course, no one kept her locked up, and there was no point - what room would hold someone who escaped from the best hospitals for the criminally insane, destroying those very hospitals at the same time?

Although there was still an emergency alert system, as evidenced by a panting Connors, who had intercepted Wanda at the very exit from the science department of Parker Industries. Yes, she had to lead the night vigil herself - there was still a shortage of reliable people in the company who could be entrusted with important tasks, such as looking after the sick. So Wanda had heard Karen complain several times before about a certain Gwen Stacy who had gotten lost at such an inopportune time.

Seeing the fugitive's determination, the woman knew there was no way she could deny it any longer. Abruptly losing all her feigned optimism, with a heavy tone in her voice, she called Wanda to follow her into her own office, where, without going into a long rant, she simply turned on a tape of the Internet news.

The video showed a female police officer with a tired look - an obvious lack of sleep on her face - talking about the incident at the Midtown School. Listening to the speaker, Wilson involuntarily squeezed the armrests of the chair she sat in with such force that she extracted a piercing, pitiful creak from the exquisite wood. The sound was a surprisingly accurate reflection of the mood in the room: Connors' deep despair and Wilson's barely contained anger.

"And you didn't say anything?" Wanda hissed, whistling the air through her clenched teeth.

"Yes," Karen admitted, not even trying to justify herself, "Peter told me a little about you... about your work... of course I knew about the mutation... I knew right away that you would try something rash."

"Exactly!" Wanda exploded. "When was that? How long have they had it? It's the third day now?"

"What would you have done?" Connors went on the offensive. "You couldn't get out of bed yesterday."

"I would have!" Wanda hissed angrily, "If I had to, I'd just rip the damn thing off! But I'd go after him!"

"And then what? The police and the Secret Service are already looking for him, I heard even Spiderwoman and Venom were seen following him, do you think you could have made a difference? You'd just derail his whole operation! And I... wouldn't be able to heal you again, I still don't understand how you managed to survive with that level of damage after the regeneration blockage. If Peter hadn't been found, you would have only mutilated yourself again for the rest of your life!"

The mercenary made no reply. She pulled a tight mask of stubbornness over her face and silently stood up and stormed out of Connors' office, leaving the scholar in distraught thoughts.

"Did I do the right thing?" Karen quietly asked herself, leaning back in her chair, "I hope you know what you're doing."

Still not waiting for an answer to her question, Connors decided that she, too, should go home, she hadn't slept properly in a long time. Before she left, she took one last look at the computer monitor, or rather at the database event log entry that was keeping her awake.

18.04.23. 15ч. 3:35 p.m. 15:35, 21 seconds. Logon completed. User: Peter Parker.

On her way out of the Parker Industries building, Deadpool remembered that she had no idea where she was, or where all her things had gone, but she couldn't go back. Catching a shabby cab, obviously recently in an accident, she slid into the front seat, since the back of the cab was too wrinkled, and gave her house address, leaving the driver, a cheerful Indian woman in spite of her circumstances, to take care of the problem. As she watched the streets of New York pass by outside the window, Wanda tried to sketch for herself a plan of further action. First, she needed to contact Bobby and Spiderwoman to coordinate their actions and find out what they had accumulated over the past few days. Then... what, exactly, would follow was not yet clear.

"C-beautiful jewelry," the cab driver remarked with a slight stammer, nodding her head at the collar-depressor, which, after removing unnecessary features like a built-in bomb, really looked like a piece of jewelry, "a gift from a lover?"

Wanda glanced at the driver with a surprised look: Where did you ever see a man give a girl jewelry? But then she remembered that the collar had been made for her by Parker, and that it could, in a way, be considered a gift.

"Something like that," Wilson smirked, "Wanda Wilson," she introduced herself, holding out her hand."

"Pleasure, Gita," the Indian woman said.

"Nice," Wanda poked her finger at the picture on the dashboard.

"Smells good enough," agreed Gita.

"No, not the daffodil daydream," the scent dispenser was next to the photo, "the guy"

"Ah, Yes, Dopi, he is quite lovely,2 the cab driver immediately agreed, her face played a dreamy smile, "he would be a very agreeable husband for me, but his heart is already stoled by my cousins Bantu and Pragnanadtha, they is dishonorable, atractive and rich people," by this moment the dreaminess on her face was replaced by bitterness, "though you probably would not understand, you are so beautiful..."

"Gita, i'm start to think it's no accident that i got into your cab today!"

"Yes, miss, you stopped it..." but Wanda did not let her finish and interrupted her.

"No, my slender brown friend, love is a powerful thing. If you find it, and the whole world taste like daffodil daydream, and you have to hold on to it tightly," for greater clarity, the strength of the relationship was demonstrated by clenched fist, "and do not let go, do not repeat my mistakes, got it?

"Yes," Gita agreed, stunned by the pressure.

"Otherwise the whole world will taste like Mama June after yoga," Wanda added, leaning back on the back of the seat.

"And what does Mama June taste like? Gita asked, for some reason.

"Like two hobos fucking in a shoe filled with piss I could go on and on about it, but basically it sucks."

"I see... lousy..." Gita mumbled, catching the gist of it.

"Wait, here we are! This is my house!"

"It's a big..."

"Wait a second, I'll go get my wallet, because I just escaped from the hospital, even my clothes are not my own..."

"... and beautiful," Gita finished in the void, wondering if her client had cheated her by leaving her without payment.

Of course, all of Wanda's plans fell through in the first phase-neither Venom nor Spiderwoman answered the phone. But Wilson wasn't discouraged; by the time she'd finished dressing in her costume and outfitting herself with ammunition, she already had her first suspect in mind.

After standing outside the house for five minutes, Gita was already almost convinced that she had been ditched, which was not surprising: she could not work through the agency until the external effects of the accident were eliminated, and finding a client in a car with such an unpresentable appearance was not so easy on her own. If there's a whole cab nearby, no one would look at a wrecked one. And now, the first client of the day turned out to be a dishonest scoundrel... and then believe the people, and she was giving advice!

Having started the car, Gita had already started to drive away, when she saw in the rearview mirror, someone running after the car, waving her hands. Except that it was not the beautiful and dishonorable Lady Wanda, but some heavily armed mercenary in a bright red suit.

"Oh, my... Lady Deadpool," Gita recognized the heroine of the crime reports, "I hope she'll pay."

"Hey, where are you going?!" Jumping into the front seat, Wanda asked, "Don't you want money?"

"Miss Wanda?"

"That's right," Wilson held up her mask to show Gita her face, "but let it be our secret! And about the house, too!"

"O-okay..."

"Shall we pinky swear?"

"O-okay..." Gita hesitantly crossed her fingers with Deadpool.

"All right, now take me to this address! We'll get some toys, and then we'll gut the pig."

However, Wanda's plans were destined to change. From her old friend Jackie Hammer, who ran a bar for mercenaries, Wanda suddenly found out that the first target on her list of suspects was already behind bars. Though first she had to tell the full story of her recovery. After that, having acquainted Jackie with the details of the investigation, Wilson involved her in the planning of further actions.

"I'll tell you this," Jackie began, after listening to Wanda, "even if Fisk was wrong about something, it's not a fact that she was not involved in the kidnapping."

"So what? Do I have to storm the jail now?" Since there was no one else in the bar except the two of them and Gita, who was interested in the place, Wilson spoke at full voice, not fearing that someone would find out about her plans.

"You don't have to... have you heard of her?" Hammer handed her friend a business card with "The Devil You Know" on it and the initials M. M. Murdock."

"Just a glimpse, they said she was the best lawyer, though she was blind," said Wilson, looking at the card and wondering where her friend had got it.

"There was a lot of talk about her," Jackie agreed, "everyone thought she was one of Fisk's trump sixes, but now that Fisk was in jail..."

Jackie leaned against the counter, switching to a whisper and beckoning Wanda closer, as if she were going to say something important.

"...rumor has it she's taken Fisk's place now. You see, she's not just ruling on her behalf, she's become the new Queenpin herself, she even has her own guards, some kind of tough ninja clan from Japan. They slaughter anyone she points them at in seconds."

"You mean, if Fisk's people were involved in the attack, this Murdock must know about it."

"Or even orchestrated it herself," Jackie nodded in response, pleased that her theory was successful.

"She's the one who'd been in touch with Peter on Fisk's behalf. Do you know where to find her?"

Jackie shook her hands.

"Fisk's penthouse, maybe, but you couldn't take it by storm with helicopters... and I doubt she'd sit there like Queenpin did. Fisk was a bit paranoid, wasn't she?"

"I see... thank you, you've helped me a lot," Wilson shook Hammer's hand, and then shouted across the hall to her new friend, who was studying the Death Pool board, "Gita, start your horse!"

"Wait..." Jackie hesitated, "are you sure you want it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you and this Parker guy had some kind of contract, right? You work for him until he cures you. And now... think about it, you're cured now, and you could lose everything by getting involved."

"Are you suggesting I dump him after everything he's done for me?"

"I wouldn't call it dumping... You kept your part of the bargain while he treated you, and now the contract is over," under Wilson Hammer's heavy stare she gradually lost her confidence, "well, yes... it's dumping."

"Jackie," Wanda cut off with steel in her voice, "we don't dump our own."

"Well, yes, of course," Hammer immediately agreed, "we don't dump our own, of course."

With that part of the conversation sealed, Deadpool stormed out of the bar.

"Not dumping our own," Gita said before she followed Wanda out the door, looking sternly into Jackie's eyes.

"Who the hell is she?" Hammer asked herself, leaving her alone in the closed bar.