The night sky over New York was cold.
Especially when you were clinging to the outside of a passenger jet.
Chen Mo pressed himself against the underside of the fuselage, his Black Suit frozen into something like a thin sheet of iron by the high-altitude chill. The wind tore past his ears, sounding not like a howl but a continuous scream.
There were no streets below.
No rooftops.
No billboards.
Nothing he could anchor a web to.
Ten thousand meters below him, there was only an expanse of bottomless darkness.
Chen Mo glanced down.
Great.
Now he wanted to swear even more.
Human Torch's hushed voice came through his earpiece.
"So, just to confirm one more time, we really are carrying out a plan here, right?"
Chen Mo clung expressionlessly to the plane's hull.
"What else? You think I'm trying out free high-altitude cryotherapy? Do I really love frozen spiders that much?"
"I just think this plan sounds a lot like suicide."
Human Torch said:
"Ordinary people ride planes. You cling to them. Ordinary people catch connecting flights. You jump onto a S.H.I.E.L.D. carrier. You know what? Normal superheroes don't travel like this."
"Sorry to disappoint you. Spider-Man can't fly." Chen Mo practically ground the words out through clenched teeth.
If he couldn't lead a team, he could only work himself to death alone.
Why couldn't a superhero who was an assassin type like him, but could also fly, join his team?
That idiot Human Torch could fly, sure, but he couldn't infiltrate anything.
At the other end, Reed Richards's voice cut in.
"Keep quiet. Black Spider, the passenger jet is entering the designated flight path. Based on wind speed, radar blind spots, and the trajectory of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Helicarrier, you'll pass over the target in forty-seven seconds."
Chen Mo narrowed