DC Heroes in Marvel

"What?"

George's expression darkened as he listened to the police officer's report. It sounded less like a legitimate explanation and more like a far-fetched story. 

Suppressing his frustration, he repeated the officer's words, gritting his teeth.

"You're telling me that during the questioning, a gust of wind and sand suddenly blinded everyone, and by the time you opened your eyes, Justin Hammer had been kidnapped and disappeared?"

"Yes, sir."

The officer nodded reluctantly, looking both helpless and embarrassed.

George pressed further. "And how do you know it was a kidnapping?"

"The bodyguards said so," the officer replied. "They claimed it was one of Justin Hammer's enemies—someone with a strange ability."

"A strange ability?" George narrowed his eyes, skepticism etched across his face. Though he doubted their account, he couldn't dismiss it outright.

"Fine," he said coldly. "Lock up those bodyguards. Interrogate them immediately. I want names, details—everything about who took Justin Hammer! Strange abilities, huh? I'd love to know who could summon a sandstorm like that."

Anton, standing nearby, couldn't help but smirk slightly as he listened to the exchange. 

George's reaction and the mention of wind and sand stirred a thought in Anton's mind—of someone specific.

However, he wasn't certain yet.

"You think this was a kidnapping too?" Anton asked George curiously.

George's tone turned icy. "Absolutely not. There's no way this was a coincidence! It has to be a staged act—something Justin Hammer orchestrated himself."

"I tend to agree," Anton said, nodding. "But you don't have proof."

"That's why I'm putting his bodyguards in the interrogation room," George snapped. "Though I doubt Justin would leave such an obvious trail, it's the only lead we have right now."

George suddenly turned to Anton, his expression sharp. "Where's Batman?"

"What are you trying to say?" Anton asked, feigning ignorance.

"I need Batman's help to investigate Justin Hammer's whereabouts—and the identity of this so-called kidnapper."

Anton sighed. "Fine. I'll pass on the message, but no guarantees he'll act on it."

"That's enough. Thank you!"

The conversation ended there as George moved to oversee the cleanup of the scene.

Anton remained calm, but his mind was racing.

"Anton, you know something, don't you?" Eddie asked, watching him closely. He'd seen that look on Anton's face before, and it always meant trouble.

"What does the wind and sand remind you of?" Eddie pressed.

Anton hesitated, then replied, "It reminds me of someone."

"Who?"

After a brief pause, Anton said, "Do you remember a few months ago, when Justin was negotiating with Oscorp? A physics laboratory in New York was suddenly shut down. They said it was because of a failed experiment—a particle accelerator malfunction that caused significant damage."

Eddie's eyes widened as the memory clicked. "Of course I remember! I gave you that intel myself. That lab was a high-tech facility under Hammer Industries. Are you saying…?"

Anton nodded slowly. "Think about it. How did Max Dillon become Electro?"

"You're saying someone else was affected by the particle accelerator and mutated?" Eddie asked, stunned.

The idea left him momentarily speechless. Encountering two mutants with similar origins in one night was statistically improbable.

"Mutations are rare—astronomically rare," Eddie muttered. "It's easier to build armor or tech. At least that follows some logic. Mutation, though… it doesn't."

He frowned and looked at Anton. "Do you know who it is?"

"Of course. I call him Sandman..."

Anton was about to elaborate when—

Boom!

In the distance, the sky erupted with a massive explosion, sending a mushroom cloud soaring high into the air.

A powerful shockwave swept through the area, its force rippling like waves across a lake. 

The fiery spectacle lit up the New York night, but instead of inspiring awe, it sent a chill down the spines of everyone watching.

Thick gray smoke filled the sky, carrying the acrid scent of burning debris. The rumble of explosions continued, each one punctuated by bursts of fireworks-like flashes. 

The battle between Tony Stark and Ivan Vanko had clearly reached its devastating conclusion, leaving destruction in its wake.

"Damn it!" George Stacey muttered, his face dark with frustration. "How much is this going to cost? And if there are casualties…" He trailed off, unwilling to finish the grim thought.

Beep-beep!

The communicator pinned to George's chest suddenly crackled to life.

"Captain?" Leonardo, the leader of the Turtles, spoke over the line. "The enemy is dead! But... he blew himself up!"

"He wasn't the only one, was he?" George asked, exhaling sharply.

"Nope," another voice chimed in over the police communication channel. "Ivan Vanko rigged all the Iron Soldiers to self-destruct. Every last one of them exploded!"

"Dead…" George muttered, staring blankly at the flames flickering in the distance. "Looks like I'm not going home tonight."

He gritted his teeth and grabbed his communicator. "Tony!"

On the other end, Tony Stark's voice came through, casual and slightly defensive. "What? Don't tell me you're blaming me for this!"

"Stark Industries needs to take responsibility for this mess!" George snapped.

"Hold on!" Tony countered. "The Iron Soldiers were Hammer's invention, not mine. Stark Industries has been out of the weapons game for years. I'm out here doing voluntary work tonight! If anything, I should be getting a medal from the NYPD for my heroic contributions."

"Justin Hammer's been kidnapped," George replied bluntly.

"What?!" Tony's voice rose in disbelief.

Nearby, Harry Osborn, listening in on the conversation, raised an eyebrow. "Justin Hammer kidnapped? Sounds a bit convenient, doesn't it?" he remarked, his tone tinged with suspicion.

As he considered the timing—Hammer's company under scrutiny, and now Justin conveniently out of the picture—Harry's mind raced. "Feels like a strategic retreat," he mused aloud.

Tony, picking up on the same thread, sighed into the communicator. "Fine. I'll keep an eye on things," he said, giving George the response he'd expected.

Thump-thump-thump!

The sound of helicopter blades cut through the chaos as a chopper descended from the night sky.

George's eyes narrowed as a group of figures emerged. His mood soured further when he recognized them.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.," he muttered, folding his arms tightly. "Of course they're here to swoop in and claim the aftermath as their 'jurisdiction.'"

Agent Phil Coulson stepped forward, his calm demeanor betraying nothing.

"Don't tell me this is now S.H.I.E.L.D.'s responsibility," George said coldly. "Unless you plan to foot the bill for all the damages tonight, I suggest you don't even think about taking over this case."

…

patreon.com/Vks_sh