It only took him eight and a half minutes to travel from Central Park to the Swiss Alps ( Read more... )

Nate's talk with Spider-Man had left him with a feeling he was growing increasingly familiar with ( Read more... )

He couldn't find Rachel Summers. Granted, he hasn't been able to get in touch with her for a while, but this was the first time he had made an actual effort to look for her ( Read more... )

Things had calmed now, on Madripoor. Or had gotten as calm as they were ever going to get on an island like Madripoor. Nate and Terry had stayed behind a few days to deal with the aftermath of their run in with crimelords of Madripoor, and now that the dust had settled, they were ready to move on ( Read more... )

Jessica Drew floated up above Madripoor, keeping her eyes wide open. Her mind was racing through possibilities as well as flashing back to the poker game where she and Sonique had left Nathan Grey to do his thing ( Read more... )

If it was one thing about rich people on this earth, Nate found, it was that they tended to be easily rattled. They have the best protection money can by, they figure no one can get past their security, they figure they have nice little bubbles where they'll be totally safe and no harm will befall them. Burst that bubble, you scare them to death ( Read more... )

After their one night blitz to shake things up in Madripoor, the raids still continued, though now the focus was more centered on the underworld and their activities. Billions of dollars in weapons and drugs had been destroyed, hundreds of people who were to be sold as servants were set free, and given enough cash to start a new life ( Read more... )

Those who have money often believe that their world can't be breached; that enough cash will buy them all the security they need. On the island of Madripoor, this has been true. The rich play in the safe and secure area of High-Town, flaunting their money with the belief that it can never be taken from them ( Read more... )

Money wasn't a concept that Nate was ever really fond of. Granted, part of that may be from living in the Age of Apocalypse, where you had to fight for what was yours, or trade for what you could get. The idea of using slips of paper (or pieces of plastic) as some kind of intermediary for exchange always struck him as weird. At best, money seemed ( Read more... )

Greece is behind them now. The air smells different in Madripoor: still thick with sea spray, a thousand perfumes, the belch and stink of machines and humanity. Theresa knows it's impossible to smell all that here in their resort suite, but the memory of outside has lingered in her nostrils, and she is not looking forward to renewing her ( Read more... )