But this wasn't any other villain. This was Norman Osborn, the original Green Goblin, who surely would not rest until his successor was dead. Kingsley knew that as long as Osborn was alive, he wasn't safe. He was much more of a threat than that arachnid; at least he could be sure that Spider-Man wouldn't try to kill him.
He'd fought with that in mind, as well. Every pumpkin bomb he hurled or sparkle blast he'd fired had been aimed carefully, so that even if the Green Goblin had dodged them, they would cause maximum collateral damage. He was ruining his skyscraper, he knew, but his insurance and Damage Control could take care of that later. The important thing was, the more debris he sent raining toward the crowd, the more occupied Spider-Man would be trying to save the gawkers, leaving him free to concentrate on Osborn.
Perhaps he'd be able to wrest the secret of Spider-Man's true identity from the Green Goblin, before his death...
Spider-Man's brain was working overtime. *Who should I go after first? Osborn needs to be brought to justice, but I might never have a better opportunity to unmask the Hobgoblin.* It didn't help that he couldn't decide which of them was more dangerous toward the city at large.
*Well, nothing for it then. I'll just go with the flow and take whatever chance I can get.* He swung in towards the dueling goblins from the side. He was carrying a large websack full of broken glass and other debris. He'd normally be hesitant to use a potentially dangerous technique like this, but these weren't your garden-variety goofy supervillains like the Gibbon or the Ringer. The sack was at the end of a webline, and he swung it in a long, sweeping arc. It came in from behind the Hobgoblin, who was hit by it, toward the Green Goblin, who was clipped by it. Osborn flew off to one side, laughing as he dodged the full impact of the blow.
"Spider-Man!" the Hobgoblin snarled, as he regained control of his glider. "I'm offering you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Flee now and I'll let you live!"
"Sorry Hobby!" the web-slinger replied. "I get once-in-a-lifetime opportunities every day! Normally as junk mail!" He tossed the websack onto a nearby low roof and swung toward him, trying to end the fight quickly while his opponent was at a disadvantage, but his spider-sense flared before he could regain the initiative. He snapped his head to the side, and saw Norman Osborn hurling two pumpkin bombs. They were thrown with a precision a Major League Baseball player would envy, at the place where Spidey and the Hobgoblin would meet.
Spider-Man let go of his latest webline and hung in mid-air. He shot two webs, snagging both bombs. Holding both lines in one hand, he spun them around like bolas, swinging the bombs back toward the Green Goblin. Osborn was able to dodge this, the bombs exploding harmlessly to one side, but he couldn't dodge the Hobgoblin's retaliatory salvo, and a sparkle blast caught him square in the chest.
"You damnable impostor!" He clutched at his chest, wincing in pain. "Until today, I never knew I could hate anyone as much as that wall-crawler! Your death shall be more painful than you can imagine!" The Hobgoblin merely laughed in return, zooming towards him, eager to press his newfound advantage, hurling a swarm of razor bats.
Clinging to the wall of the Kingsley building, Spider-Man caught a quick breath. He glanced down at his foes. The Green Goblin covered his face with his arms, protecting it as he flew right through the bats, a move no sane combatant would ever try. He closed to grappling distance and began to exchange blows with his counterpart, each superstrong punch echoing through the street.
And suddenly Peter saw a way to end not just the fight, but perhaps the careers of the two villains, permanently. But he'd have to act fast, or he'd lose his window of opportunity. He crawled down the skyscraper as fast as he could, then jumped up at the goblins from below. They were too occupied in their own private high-altitude boxing match to notice, until he ripped out the guts of their gliders.
The power to them died almost instantly, and the startled goblins were forced to use them as actual gliders, controlling their descents as best they could, making for the pavement. Normally the last thing Spider-Man would do would bring a fight like this closer to civilians, but in this case, he had no choice. This had to be seen by others.
Fortunately, even a curious Manhattan crowd knew better than to stay in the way of two crashing supervillains, and they pulled back out of their way. Before either could recover, the wall-crawler took careful aim, and fired perhaps the most significant weblines of his life since the one that doomed Gwen Stacy. The lines struck both their masks, and he tugged with all his might.
And the masks came off.
In front of a huge crowd, including photographers and news reporters. They saw the evidence with their own eyes, recorded it for eternity and broadcast it for an audience of millions.
Peter's colleague Ben Urich had written a popular book, LEGACY OF EVIL, that had accused Norman Osborn of being the Green Goblin, but for the first time, they had incontrovertible proof.
And as for the Hobgoblin...
*Is that-wait, is that Roderick Kingsley? But didn't I just save him a few minutes ago?* Then Spider-Man remembered. *Of course, Kingsley's supposed to have a twin brother! I can't tell which is which, but I'm sure the cops'll be able to!*
Before Osborn and Kingsley could recover from the shock of their identities being revealed, before Spider-Man himself had fully processed it, the hero was on the ground. He was no Quicksilver, but he could move at superspeed if he had to, and he did so now, running in circles around the two, spinning thick weblines. He webbed them together, back-to-back. He emptied his cartridges, and refilled his web-shooters, then emptied those as well. He wasn't taking any chances that they could break-out. This would be enough to hold the Thing in place.
"YOU'RE RUINED!" Osborn howled. "Do you hear me, Spider-Man? Before the day is out, the world shall know who really lurks behind your mask! They'll know the full secret of Pe-mmfmmghhh mffh!"
He had been changing cartridges again, and had webbed Osborn's mouth shut just in the nick of time, or so he hoped. Kingsley was shooting suspicious glances between his two foes; Spidey knew he was quite intelligent and cunning, and he fervently hoped that the Hobgoblin couldn't take that little syllable and start putting two and two together. *The last thing I need is TWO superstrong murderers dressed for Halloween who know who I am.*
As to what would happen when Osborn was in police custody and the webbing had worn off...who knew. Perhaps Osborn would change his mind and keep it a secret, but if not...well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it. A visit to Matt Murdock might be in order, to see if he could slap Osborn with a gag order or something. And as for Kingsley, he was also sure that when the police and Betty Brant compared notes, they'd work out the exact details of how he had framed poor Ned Leeds.
But speaking of bridges...there was a visit he had to make now to one very special bridge...
EPILOGUE
That night, one shadow moved at Ryker's Island, darker than the rest. This was the temporary super-powered criminal holding wing, reinforced just enough to hold supervillains on a short-term basis until they could be transferred to a more secure facility.
It was very good at keeping those who were in from getting out.
It was not so good at keeping those who were out from getting in.
The shadow danced lithely, avoiding sensors and camera line of sights with the ease of an accomplished ballet dancer. It reached the most recently occupied cells. Both Norman Osborn and Roderick Kingsley had passed the jail's quick test that verified them as being superhuman, and after being read their rights, had been hustled into their cells without being allowed to speak to anyone else (Osborn's web-gag had still been in place), a drastic measure that the courts had ruled in favor of for imprisoned superhumans. They could contact their lawyers tomorrow.
The two were each asleep, stirring slightly on their cots, dressed in jail jumpsuits instead of the business outfits or colorful goblin attires they preferred.
The shadow knew there was only one chance at this, but one would be enough. Two small devices flew through the air, into the cells, and landed on Kingsley and Osborn's bare skin.
The devices had been "borrowed" from the Baxter Building, where Reed Richards had invented and stored them. Gaining access to there was only a little harder than getting into Ryker's; this particular incarnation of the Baxter Building was still new, and the Fantastic Four's security wasn't fully up to snuff yet.
The shadow grinned in the darkness, baring teeth that would put many observers in mind of those of a cat. The machines were very specially-tuned mind-wiping machines. They could erase just one fact-and when they woke up, neither Kingsley nor Osborn would have any clue in the slightest as to what Spider-Man's true identity was. The devices would dissolve into vapor within a few minutes.
The visitor knew that Peter would object to this, that he would speak out even for the rights of monsters like these. But that was how the shadow liked it; he was best when he was noble and pure of heart. There were others who could take care of those darker deeds that had to be done for his sake.
The shadow turned to depart. The spider had married someone else, but he always left a large impression on his former lovers.
A few minutes later, a dark form swung away from the jail, letting out a loud, feline laugh.