The communication was abruptly cut off by Hector Volkov.
Surrounded by soldiers, Lance raised his hands without resistance.
"I surrender," he said. "But I demand to see my lawyer… oh, right. I am the lawyer. In that case, I invoke my right to remain silent until my client comes to bail me out."
The soldiers exchanged confused looks.
Behind them, a convoy of police cars came racing toward the scene.
"Looks like I won't be going with you today." Lance shrugged and cooperatively got into a police car, even giving the lead soldier a casual wave.
Two hours later, in an interrogation room at the New York Police Department.
Lance sat on one side of the metal table, slowly sipping the instant coffee provided by the station.
It was cheap, but still better than the coffee at the Gotham City Police Department.
Across from him, two FBI agents wore grim expressions.
"Mr. Prescott, you are suspected of illegal possession of weapons, destruction of public property, and endangering national security…"
"Evidence?" Lance took another slow sip and cut in.
The agent faltered.
"The wreckage of that mech has sunk to the bottom of the river. Salvage will take time. But witnesses claim you interacted with it and are suspected of triggering its self-destruction."
"The witnesses are mistaken." Lance shrugged. "I'm just a lawyer passing by. Seeing Iron Man under attack, it's only natural to help. After all, he's a hero in my eyes."
"As for the self-destruction… could it have been a system malfunction? That sounds like a question for the manufacturer. Why are you pressing an innocent civilian?"
"The manufacturer is Stark Industries."
"Then I suggest you ask Tony Stark." Lance set down his cup and tilted his head, looking straight at the agent. "Do you need his number? That would require you to return my phone. You know how it is. No one memorizes numbers anymore. We rely on our devices."
"Do you take us for fools?"
"Of course not," Lance replied calmly. "I respect every public servant."
"But if I may be frank, gentlemen, you've arrested the wrong person. It's not me you should be holding, but someone else."
"I appreciate that your superior brought me back from the scene, and I'm grateful for the effort. But now it's time to choose a side."
At that moment, the interrogation room door opened.
A man in a tailored suit carrying a briefcase stepped in, followed by the police chief and Phil Coulson, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Lance had met twice before.
"I am Samuel Stern, Chief Legal Counsel for Stark Industries. This is an agent from S.H.I.E.L.D."
He handed over a business card.
"Mr. Prescott is a specially appointed lawyer for our company. This incident involves core Stark Industries assets. Any questioning must be conducted under the supervision of our legal team."
"Additionally, regarding the misconduct of General Hector Volkov, Stark Industries has formally filed a complaint with the Department of Defense Office of the Inspector General, with copies submitted to the Congressional Armed Services Committee. Here is a copy."
He placed a stack of documents on the table.
At the same time, Coulson stepped forward and began speaking quietly with the chief.
Lance ignored the agent hurriedly flipping through the documents, as well as the chief and the others nearby.
He turned his gaze toward Lance.
"Mr. Prescott, you're free to go. Mr. Stark is waiting for you."
"Thanks." Lance stood and walked out.
He stepped outside the station.
Across the street, a stretched Lincoln was waiting.
Lance approached the car and tapped on the window. It rolled down, revealing Tony Stark inside.
His face was pale, but his eyes were unnaturally bright.
"Are you serious?" Lance raised an eyebrow, looking him over. "You just took that kind of beating and still rushed over to bail me out. Don't tell me you slipped out of the hospital. Rhodes wouldn't allow that."
"Forget that." Stark opened the door and gestured for Lance to get in.
Lance got into the car without hesitation.
"What's the situation now? Any news?" Stark asked. "I heard you blew up that tin can."
"You're well informed," Lance replied. "That's right. I blew it up. After seeing the upgrades you made to your armor, it's hard to tolerate something that bloated. I just returned it to its owner."
"How are you feeling?" Lance asked.
"Like I've been run over by a truck three times." Stark leaned back and closed his eyes.
"Rhodes said you could have left, but you stayed behind… to stall for time."
"Moved?"
"To be honest, a little," Stark said frankly. "But more than that, I'm worried. I don't know how many zeros I'll need to add this time to satisfy you."
Lance laughed.
"I knew it. You really do know how to make me happy. Add more money."
"Risking my life like that deserves a price increase."
"Of course it does. Whatever amount you want." Stark paused, then opened his eyes and looked at Lance. "Any news about Obadiah?"
Lance shook his head.
"I have to remind you, at this stage Volkov will definitely erase any traces. Your uncle might…"
"Be dead." Stark's tone was unexpectedly calm. He took a deep breath and continued, "Or dying."
"I'm just saying it's a possibility," Lance replied.
"It's fine. I've already accepted that the people around me will gradually disappear." Stark stared at the ceiling of the car, his eyes dull as he murmured, "It's fine… I accept it…"
Lance watched him for a moment, then found a first-aid kit in the car, took out a vial of strong stimulant, and injected it into Stark.
"Ah!"
Stark's melancholy shattered under the pain.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
"Saving you," Lance said, rolling his eyes.
"I don't know who else around you might leave," Lance said, "but I do know that if I let you keep acting like this, you'll be the first to disappear on me. And my final payment will disappear with you."
He ignored Stark's complaints and spoke upward.
"JARVIS."
"Sir, I am here."
"Head to the nearest hospital. I believe Stark has lost consciousness."
"I have not," Stark protested weakly.
"You have." Lance pressed him down with one hand, expression unchanged. "Now shut up and stay still until we get there."
"When you arrive, call Pepper and let her know you're safe. Don't make her worry. Try acting like a mature adult."
Stark tried to resist for a moment, but soon slumped back into the seat and stopped moving.
He watched as the car sped through the streets of New York. The city was brightly lit, alive through the night like a restless beast.
Everything was happening too fast.
He looked out the window, and Obadiah Stane came to mind once more.
The company. The weapons. The war. Obadiah.
Time and events had pushed them forward at such a pace that they could no longer see each other clearly.