The decrepit-looking hotel near a waterfall in Colombia was a case of the facade not quite matching the interior. Early 20th century grandeur fought against years of disuse and nature's reclamation. While the first floor retained some of it's moldy and waterlogged appearance, it was a deception to keep the local guerillas uninterested in the goings on inside the building. With late night experiments leading to flashing lights in some of the windows, the locals, gun-toting or not, spoke about the old hotel as a haunted location.

The head of that nest was counting on interlopers of the goody-two-shoe variety. Though the planned team wasn't the ones in blue and white. Either way, Huntress 19 had called in assistance from extra nests.

"Okay, Stella. Be safe. I'll see you when you're back."

Norman hit "END" and the call closed down. Stella was away for an indeterminate time on business, meaning that he needed to handle things for himself. He could get another assistant, yes, but no one had Stella's ability. He sighed and set the phone down, then pulled out his appointment book and looked over today. Breakfast meeting. Lunch meeting.

Dinner meeting with the representative from Typhon Group, followed by a meeting with his contact from the Organization.

His return to New York after another hiatus was low-key this time around. OsCorp was ready to make a major announcement but he needed to put a few other things in place. He flipped on the TV in his office and watched Christina Frost's new reality show with a smile.

She was already doing better than he hoped. E! owed him one for the suggestion.

He pressed the intercom button on his desk and waited for Lucy, his secretary, to answer.

"Lucy, please get a representative from Typhon on the line. I need to iron out some final details."

"Right away, Mister Osborn." Lucy said.
 


Hope Hardwicke arrived home to her apartment building early Wednesday morning. She’d just pulled a double shift at the hospital and was exhausted. The flu was going around, and though Hope felt less than up to snuff herself, her sister Grace was also at home with the flu. She hadn’t had a choice but to go to work. Her apartment was eerily quiet, she noted, as she walked down the corridor of her building after having climbed six flights of stairs. The elevator had long ago stopped working, and no one had been able to find someone who could fix it.

There wasn't a single peep of sound... )
.

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The Next Generation of Marvel Heroes

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