The Vulture

The villains paused. Some thoughtful. Others tense. Doctor Doom's eyes surveyed the assemblage. Each of them brought something different. A perspective so at odds with his own exalted viewpoint. An unpredictable element that could circumvent the chess game that he and Richards played. That might spell the doom of the Invisible Woman.

Then a shadow swooped down. Doom's **** field rose automatically, faster than his blood and flesh could respond. A wiry, lean shape landed almost at the dictator's feet. A wiry figure craned up at him. The green flight suit, the winged harness attached to him were respectable technology. Enhanced his physiology to sustain the criminal's body against the rigors of flight. The misshapen head bald, the hook-like nose jutted out like a beak. The eyes however—the eyes were as piercing as a bird's. They caught the Latverian monarch's gaze and held it for a long moment.

One of Spider-Man's motley assembly of villains. Intelligent, but half-mad. A true criminal, prey to greed, anger, petty notions of ****. Yet beneath that, Doom sensed something else. An almost bestial aspect. A mind turned in on itself. Feral.

That could be useful.

With a swift and agile twist of the long, stringy neck, it turned to look at the holograms of the Invisible Woman.

"Adrian Toomes," Doom named him. "They call you the Vulture."

The criminal raised his head again.

"I've watched her. How she moves. How she watches. She has a weakness."

Doom paused. Not sure what this low-level criminal could have seen that missed his gaze.

"When she is invisible, she can see," the Vulture said. "But when she is invisible she cannot not see. Her eyelids are invisible."

The armored villain paused. He knew Sue's vision was unaffected while invisible—the exact mechanism was unclear, but clearly some light was refracted to her corneas, perhaps phased through another dimension. The fact that she could not close those eyes was something he had not considered.

"And how would you make use of this weakness to corrupt the Invisible Woman?" Doom said.

Toomes turned his head back to the holograms.

"She can't look away. So give her something to look at. Something—to tempt her. The eyes are windows to the soul. Direct neural connection to the brain. We can use that to influence her."

There was the madness. The feral aspect, mingled with intelligence. Yet also a cogent comment.

"An interesting possibility. It would require placing her in a situation where Susan Storm was **** to be invisible for an extended period of time—"

"Or wished to be," the Vulture said. His lips peeled back from his teeth. The gums had receded, so that the teeth seemed unusually long.

One long-fingered hand rubbed at his crotch.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. calls her in for missions. Things she doesn't tell her family about. Alone, ****." Toomes said.

Doom considered. "A trap. Something to draw her in. A challenge uniquely designed for someone of her abilities."

The Vulture licked his lips. A bestial leer on his face. For an old man, he was still virile, or thought he was.

"Like a bird, she hunts by sight. But to tame a hawk, it must go hooded for a time...learn to become dependent..."

That was how they spoke, Doctor Doom and the Vulture. The winged criminal sometimes in riddles, sometimes in moments of startling insight and clarity. Together, they plotted against the Invisible Woman.

In the Baxter Building, a S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued communicator rang. The Invisible Woman excused herself from the table. It was taco night, and the family stuffed their faces as Sue left to see what Nick Fury needed from her.