Bug boy || Peter Parker

Thirty Nine

The plane was in the air and just gaining height above the city when a loud buzzing sounded. In the open air the engines were quieter now that the reflective panels were engaged. Tate kept one hand on the controls as the other fumbled for his phone. Since it was specially upgrade by his dad to have a satellite connection, it worked in the plane. He barely glanced at it as he answered the call, just pressing the speaker button as he concentrated on the altitude. "Yeah?"

"Tate! Oh thank fuck!" Callum's voice. Worried and relieved all at once. "Peter has gone after a guy called the vulture, who is apparently Liz's dad, but I have no idea. Anyway! There's something big going down. Where are you?"

"I'm in the plane", Tate answered, anxiety filling him. "It moving day remember? Is Peter okay?"

"We lost contact", Callum responded. "Can you call you dad?"

"Okay. Give me a second", Tate made sure that the plane was going at a steady pace before flicking on the autopilot switch. "Friday. Call dad", he ordered aloud. Nothing happened, no female voice answering his order. He frowned. "Callum?" He called but there was no answer. Fingers grappled for his phone and he switched it on. No signal. That was impossible. It had a satellite connection. It couldn't just have no signal. It always had signal. Unless, a device was blocking all signals on the plane. Tate glanced at the radio but the little red light next to it was off. Still he tried. 

"Happy?" He pressed the button. "Happy? Come in?" No answer but the buzz of static. Tate froze as he felt anxiety wash over him. He was alone in the sky and had no contact with the ground below. He was stranded and something was going to happen. 

That was when he heard a thud one movement behind him and fear laced up his spine. There was a grunt and a loud bang of boots on the metal floor of the cargo hold. He froze and spun round in his chair to peer at the camera feed of the hold. The crates were lit dimly by the white lights across the ceiling of the plane. He couldn't see anything but there was somebody definitely moving about in the room. Tate stood, trainers quiet against the floor as he peered at the feed. Suddenly cold, he tugged on his hoodie as the footsteps grew closer. 

Then a man strode up round a crate, heading straight towards the door to the cockpit. He was dressed in dark clothing with a heavy fleece coat that was similar to an aviator jacket. A helmet with glowing green orbs for eyes covered his face, which didn't make this any less scary. Tate scrambled back as the man withdrew something from his pocket, a electrical device of some sort that he recognised as having similar styles to the weapons Peter had been looking into. So this was the vulture. He was planing on robbing Tate's plane. 

The vulture jammed the device into the door and ripped it back, pulling the whole heavy steal bulletproof door with it. Tate yelped and fell back into the pilot's seat as the man loomed over him. For a second the man paused and they stared at each other. Then he was moving  around Tate and plugging a device into the control panel. "What are you doing?" Tate snapped. He reached out to stop him but the man shoved him heavily back with one hand. Tate hit the back of the chair hard enough to make him gasp. (He knew he wasn't ever going to be particularly big but being small was hard). 

"Entered new coordinates", The vulture announced. There must have been a comm in his helmet as he seemed to be listening to a response. Tate pushed himself up. 

"Who are you? And what do you think you are doing?" He glared at the man, mind whirring as he thought of what to do. He needed to figure out a way of blocking whatever jamming signal was stopping him from communicating. Then he could call his dad. 

"Now", the Vulture crossed his arms. "Mason, mind telling me why the fuck a kid is here?" 

Tate straightened and gazed firmly back at the green orbs. "Mind telling me what the fuck you are doing on my plane?" 

"Your plane?" The man asked. His hands came up and pressed a few buttons then the mask came away and the helmet was dropped into the co-pilot chair. A man with pale skin and greying hair raised an eyebrow at him. "You're plane? Wait, you're one of Liz's classmates, aren't you? You went to the dc trip with them?" 

"Get out of my plane!" Tate snapped. He didn't feel safe. He was trained but he had lapsed in combat classes since the accident. His legs felt shaky.

"Ah, Tate! That's your name", Mr Toomes sighed and clicked his fingers. "Really, what is it with teens these days, getting into my business", the sentence was muttered under his breath as he turned and marched out of the cockpit and into the cargo hold. Tate blinked in surprise as he watched him go. The man brushing him off like a fly. 

Mr Toomes surveyed the room full of crates with a satisfied sigh. "Hot dog". Then he paused and turned back to Tate, mind obviously working. "Wait, repeat that. Your plane? This is Stark's plane. Why would there be a kid in Tony Stark's plane unless", he grinned and it was not a happy grin. "Unless you're that rumoured kid he adopted. I don't see Stark letting any other teenager pilot his planes full of valuable items alone". 

Tate scowled at him, finger twitching. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed something on camera feeds behind him. The open doorway of the cockpit offering him a angle of the cameras for the plane. One of the outside cameras was blurry as something red and blue moved across it. Tate felt slight relief in him at the sight. (Though the thought of Peter cloning to the side of the plane at the altitude they were at was worrying enough by itself). "So?" He bit back at Toomes. "Gonna kidnap me for ransom like everyone else? Hold me hostage? Target me to get at my father?" 

"Now those are some ideas", Mr Toomes chuckled. "But I'm more interested in the cargo first. I can kidnap you later. There's no where for you to go". He gestured around at the plane for emphasis. 

Tate bit his lip and tossed his hair out of his face. "Dad would be pissed if you stole avengers items. So I can't let you do that". 

"What are you going to do about it kiddo?" Mr Toomes laughed. "You're barely taller than Pete".

Tate froze. "What did you do to Peter?" He demanded, hands balling into fists. 

Mr Toomes grinned. "I just sent him a message. A pretty solid one. Doubt you'll be seeing him anytime soon". 

Even though Tate knew that Peter was outside the plane, he felt anger rise up. This man had tried to hurt Peter. Was aiming to steal his dad's stuff and was thinking about kidnapping him. Tate wasn't going to let him. "Fuck you", He snarled. "You'll pay for hurting Peter. 

Mr Toomes chuckled darkly. "I'd like to see you try". 

unedited

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