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The next day.
Hawk was up early. Dressed and with his backpack slung over one shoulder, he took the folder Mrs. Snow had given him and headed for the subway.
His original plan had been to take the bus.
Everyone knows the New York City subway is an experience you don't forget.
But Hawk discovered there was no direct bus route from his new apartment to the Oscorp building. He'd have to make three transfers.
At that point, he might as well just take the subway.
At least with the subway, if you had no shame, you could ride for free.
In a word:
You could hop the turnstile. And even if you paid, the fare was still cheaper than the bus.
So, the subway it was.
Except—
The moment he stepped onto the train, he regretted it.
The smell.
God, the smell.
A sensory assault of indescribable odors washed over him from all directions. He shut down his sense of smell so fast it was practically a reflex.
But the smell was only part of the problem.
The car was a rolling circus.
There was a wannabe rockstar with a guitar, howling like a wounded animal, lost in a delusion of future stardom.
Not far from him, a woman built like a Sherman tank had a massive python draped around her neck.
God only knew how she got that thing on the train.
But that wasn't even the main event.
It's a well-known fact that if you were to list the most common places to get pickpocketed in New York City, the subway would be at the top.
And right on cue, a young tough in a hoodie, his face shadowed, locked onto Hawk.
His instincts screamed subway rookie.
A "subway rookie" was someone who didn't ride the trains often, who didn't understand the unspoken dangers of the cars or the darkness in people's hearts.
They weren't always rich, but they were always the easiest prey.
Soon.
The kid in the hoodie, pretending to adjust his headphones, bobbed his head to a silent beat and sidled up behind Hawk.
The next second.
As his hand came down from his ear, a small folding knife appeared in it. He was about to slice open the backpack on Hawk's back.
Just then.
Hawk, his back still to the kid, suddenly lurched backward as if he'd lost his balance.
The kid, caught completely by surprise, was still fumbling with the knife. Hawk's sudden movement slammed the handle of the blade, flipping the point around. With a sickening squelch, the knife plunged deep into the kid's own wrist.
"Aaargh!"
The kid let out a strangled cry, his eyes wide with shock and pain as he stared at the knife buried in his arm.
Blood began to drip, pattering onto the grimy floor of the car.
The train pulled into the next station.
The surrounding passengers stood up and filed off the car.
No one gasped.
No one cared. And certainly, no one asked the kid if he needed medical attention.
Hawk simply moved with the crowd, stepping off the train without a single backward glance.
As he walked away, he felt the burn of a hateful glare on his back, but he just let a small, cold smile touch his lips.
He had been merciful.
If this hadn't been a crowded subway car, if it had been some dark alley or deserted lot, he would have scattered the little punk's ashes to the wind.
Could he not see that Hawk was wearing clothes that, all combined, weren't worth fifty dollars?
He was this broke, and the kid still tried to rob him?
Was there no justice?
No law?
...
"Gwen?"
As he emerged from the subway station, still stewing over the attempted robbery, Hawk saw her. She was standing in front of the Oscorp Industries building, seemingly waiting for someone.
Gwen, who had been scanning the area, spotted him across the street. Her face lit up, and she raised her hand, waving him over.
Is she waiting for me?
Hawk paused for a second, then darted across the street during a break in traffic.
The Battle of New York had been two weeks ago. Now, looking around Manhattan, you could barely see any trace that an alien invasion had ever happened.
That's the power of money for you.
The battle ended in the morning, and the reconstruction of Manhattan, especially Wall Street, had begun by noon.
The Oscorp building's facade had been heavily damaged during the attack.
But now, you'd never know it had been torn open by the Chitauri.
Hawk glanced up at the massive skyscraper, which rivaled the Stark Tower five blocks away, then looked back at Gwen.
"Were you waiting for me?"
"Of course."
Gwen was dressed differently from her school attire. Today she had her hair in a high ponytail and was wearing the standard-issue white lab coat of a researcher. "If I'm not here waiting for you, how else am I supposed to figure out your secret?"
Hawk just shook his head, a wry smile on his face.
"I don't have any secrets."
"Yes, you do. And I'm going to find out."
Gwen said it with a completely straight face, then her expression softened back into a smile. "Okay, I'm just kidding. Mrs. Snow called me this morning. She forgot you don't have a phone and was worried you wouldn't even be able to get in the front door without a security pass. So she asked me to meet you and take you up to see that, uh..."
Gwen paused, looking at Hawk. "Right, what was that guy's name again?"
"Max Dillon."
Hawk said the name of the future supervillain Electro, currently a super-invisible engineer.
Gwen's face lit up with recognition.
"Right, him. Come on, I'll take you to the Bio-Electricity Engineering department."
"Okay."
Hawk didn't refuse.
Gwen stuck her hands in her lab coat pockets and, with a flick of her ponytail, turned and led him toward the entrance. After swiping her own card, she said a few words to the security guard at the front desk.
The guard looked over at Hawk, then nodded and manually opened the security gate.
Once Hawk was inside, Gwen thanked the guard.
A few moments later.
Gwen, moving with the easy confidence of someone who knew her way around, led Hawk to the Bio-Electricity Engineering department on the first floor of the annex building.
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