"David,.Peter.-.Spider-Man.2" - читать интересную книгу автора (David Peter)

running at Jack All with a fire extinguisher that wasnТt going to do a bit of
good.
Then people started pointing upward at him, shouting things. Even at this
distance, he was able to discern what they were saying.
УSpider-Man! What the hell did you think you were doing!Ф
УWhy didnТt you save that guy!Ф
УMaybe he pushed him!Ф
УSomeone down here couldТa been killed, yТfreak!Ф
He sighed heavily, fired a web-line, and swung away.
As he did so, his thoughts kept wandering back to Otto Octavius. What had Jack
been talking about? Arms? Was Otto Octavius becoming some sort of weapons
developer? Had he taken on some contract for the military? That didnТt sound
like him, though. Certainly not based on anything that Peter had read.
Peter felt adrift. There was no one he could ask about it, and he had no way to
follow it up. This Jack guy had obviously been deadly serious, but Peter just
couldnТt fathom what any of this was about.
Perhaps he should ask Doctor Octavius.
And how, precisely, was he supposed to do that? Stroll up to the guy and say,
УExcuse me, are you involved in some sort of arms program that would attract the
interest of mercenaries? No offense.Ф Yes, definitely, that was sure to work.
Crackerjack plan.
Inform the authorities? TheyТd want to know how he knew what he knew. If he
contacted them anonymously, theyТd likely pay him no mind. If he went in as
Peter Parker, theyТd ask him all sorts of very uncomfortable questions. And if
he went as Spider-ManЕ well, thanks to J. Jonah JamesonТs constant diatribes in
theDaily Bugle, he had the credibility of a dirty politician, a terrorist, and a
shyster lawyer all rolled into one.
StillЕ reading up on Octavius, doing a little diggingЕ that might not be such a
bad idea after all. If nothing else, he might be able to find out just what sort
of arms might be worth dying for.



II
УThe first time I found myself in your arms, I thought I was going to die,Ф said
John Jameson.
John was a tall, strapping young man, with a square jaw and closely cropped
brown hair. His eyes spoke of quiet intelligence, and his entire demeanor
conveyed someone whose nature was to remain calm and collected no matter how
stressful the situation. It made him the polar opposite of his father, who could
be counted on to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation.
He was sharply attired, having chosen to wear his air force dress uniform for
the occasion. The circumstances were right for it: lunch at an extremely
fashionable and, frankly, snooty menТs club. His father loved to make a fuss
over the uniform, especially the medals that gleamed on the chest, and he wanted
his dad in a good mood.
Whereas the club itself was men-onlyЧone of the last bastions of such gender
segregationЧthey had opened the main dining room to women, provided they were
accompanied by a club member, of course. This had been done to prove that the
club was willing to change with the timesЧwhich it wasnТt, really, but the