Obadiah watched Pepper and the SHIELD agent disappear through the building's entrance, his jaw tight with barely controlled fury. But he didn't pursue, not here, not in public with security cameras and witnesses. Instead, he turned on his heel and strode toward the exhibition hall that housed Stark Industries' original arc reactor.
The massive device dominated the space, a monument to Howard Stark's genius and a symbol of the company's technological legacy. But Obadiah's attention wasn't on the reactor itself, it was on the team of scientists working frantically in the adjacent research bay.
The lead scientist, William, set down his phone as Obadiah approached, his expression already apologetic. "Sir, we've been conducting the research exactly as you specified, "
"And?" Obadiah's voice was sharp as a blade.
William swallowed. "The situation is... complicated. The technology to power your armor at the scale you're requesting, it doesn't actually exist."
Obadiah stopped mid-stride. "Wait. Did you just say the technology doesn't exist?"
His tone was deceptively calm, the kind of quiet that preceded violence. He grabbed William's shoulder and physically turned him toward the massive arc reactor humming behind them, pointing at it with his other hand.
"William. The technology is right there. It's been there for thirty years. I'm simply asking you to make it smaller."
"Yes, sir, and that's what we've been attempting." William's voice cracked slightly. "But to be completely honest, it's impossible. The miniaturization you're requesting requires breakthroughs in material science, energy containment, and, "
"Tony Stark built one in a cave!" Obadiah roared, his composure finally shattering. He jabbed his finger into William's chest. "With a box of scraps! And you're telling me you can't replicate it with a fully equipped laboratory and two months of work?"
William stumbled back slightly, raising his hands defensively. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stane. But I'm not Tony Stark."
The words hung in the air like an admission of failure. Obadiah stared at William with undisguised contempt, then turned away with a disgusted sound.
"Useless."
He stalked away from the research bay, his mind racing. Two months. Two months of waiting for these incompetents to reverse-engineer Tony's reactor, and they had nothing to show for it. He'd already commissioned the armor itself, larger than Tony's prototype, heavily armed, a true weapon rather than an escape tool. It sat in Sector 16 waiting for its power source, a masterpiece missing its heart.
But now Pepper had copied his files. She had evidence, video of the Ten Rings, documentation of weapons deals, proof of his order to assassinate Tony. SHIELD would act soon, possibly within hours. His window of opportunity was closing rapidly.
Which meant he needed to take what he required by force.
Tony had a miniaturized arc reactor. It was right there, in his chest, keeping him alive while simultaneously showcasing the very technology Obadiah needed.
Tony wouldn't give it up willingly. But Tony didn't need to be willing.
Obadiah pulled out his phone and made a single call. "Prepare the armor in Sector 16 for immediate deployment. I'll have the power source within the hour."
Night had fallen by the time Pepper finished briefing Agent Coulson and his SHIELD team. She'd laid out everything, the shipping manifests, the weapons deals, the video evidence of Obadiah ordering Tony's assassination. The agents had listened with increasing alarm, their professional composure cracking as the scope of the conspiracy became clear.
"We'll move to arrest Stane immediately," Coulson assured her, already coordinating with his team via encrypted communications. "Multiple charges, conspiracy to commit murder, illegal arms trafficking, corporate espionage. He won't see the outside of a cell for decades."
Relief flooded through Pepper, but it was short-lived. She needed to warn Tony, needed to tell him that his mentor and father figure had tried to have him killed.
She pulled out her phone and dialed Tony's number. It rang once, twice, three times,
The line connected. She heard ambient sound, movement, then,
The call cut off.
Pepper stared at her phone, ice forming in her gut. "Something's wrong."
Coulson looked up from his tactical display. "Could he be in his workshop? Sometimes signal gets disrupted, "
"No." Pepper's voice was firm with certainty. "Tony would never answer and then immediately hang up. Not on me. Something happened."
She tried calling again. Straight to voicemail.
Panic began to override rational thought. Obadiah knew she'd taken the evidence. He'd seen her leave with a federal agent. And Tony was alone in that villa, vulnerable, trusting, completely unaware that his mentor was actually his would-be murderer.
Pepper's hands trembled as a terrible realization struck her. Obadiah couldn't let Tony live, not now, not with everything exposed. Tony was a witness, a victim, and most importantly, he was the only person who could testify to Obadiah's crimes with absolute credibility.
Her mind raced through options. SHIELD was mobilizing, but that would take time, time to coordinate, time to travel to the villa, time Tony might not have.
Then she remembered: Smith Doyle.
Tony had spoken of him with something approaching awe after his rescue. Had described capabilities that seemed almost superhuman, speed, strength, combat skills that made even the Fraternity's enhanced assassins look ordinary. If anyone could reach Tony in time, could protect him until SHIELD arrived...
Pepper scrolled frantically through her contacts and found Smith's number, added after the equipment procurement deal began. She hit dial and pressed the phone to her ear, willing him to answer.
The phone rang. And rang. And rang.
"Come on," she whispered urgently. "Pick up. Please pick up."
In the Fraternity's training facility, Smith pushed his body to its limits. A massive metal sphere, easily three tons, was chained to his waist, dragging behind him as he moved. His hands pressed against an even larger sphere, muscles straining as he forced it across the reinforced floor.
The technique was crude compared to proper gravity training, but it was effective. Master Roshi had trained Goku with weighted shells and manual labor, building the foundation that would later support godlike power. Smith couldn't create a gravity chamber, not yet, but he could approximate the training methodology.
His Saiyan physiology responded to the stress by growing stronger. Each training session pushed him further, building power that would be essential when the real threats emerged. Loki and the Chitauri were coming. Ultron would rise. Thanos would make his move. Smith needed to be ready.
The sharp trill of his phone cut through the rhythmic sounds of his training. Smith's frown deepened, he'd given standing orders not to be disturbed during training unless it was urgent. This had better not be another telemarketer.
He released the metal sphere and shrugged off the chains with a rattle of breaking links. His ki flared briefly, and he blurred across the training room in an instant, appearing beside the table where his phone sat.
The screen displayed: Pepper Potts.
Smith's irritation transformed into curiosity. Pepper handled most Stark Industries business through Fox now that the equipment procurement was established. Why would she be calling him directly?
His mind ran through possibilities. Had they accumulated enough shares to force a board seat? Was there a problem with the equipment shipment? Some complication with the Universal Capsule Company's regulatory filings?
The thought that Obadiah Stane might be making his move never crossed Smith's mind. After all, the Mark I prototype was supposed to be sitting in Tony's villa, safely stored away. Without access to that armor and its design principles, Obadiah couldn't build his Iron Monger suit. The timeline should have given them more time.
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