The chairman's face had gone from red to purple. "Can someone turn it off? Shut down those displays immediately!"
Justin Hammer scrambled from his seat, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to reach the display controls. His hands fumbled with cables and switches, desperate to stop the embarrassing footage.
Tony, naturally, wasn't about to let the opportunity pass. His fingers danced across his phone screen, queuing up another video.
"These are still immature products," Tony narrated as new footage appeared. "No real threat to American interests. Yet."
The third video began playing—more testing ground footage, but this time featuring a familiar face.
"Wait, is that Justin Hammer?" someone in the gallery called out.
"He's dealing in knockoffs too?" another voice added.
Tony leaned toward his microphone. "Justin, you're on national television. Maybe pay attention to your image."
The footage showed Hammer inspecting what appeared to be his own attempted Iron Man recreation. The suit's torso rotated a hundred eighty degrees—then kept rotating, the mechanical spine twisting like a corkscrew until something snapped audibly. The pilot inside screamed as the suit collapsed.
The gallery erupted in laughter. Hammer reached the display, grabbing at cables with increasing desperation. "Where's the plug? Where's the damn plug?"
He finally found the power source and yanked it free. The screens went dark, but the damage was done. The hearing's serious atmosphere had evaporated completely, replaced by chaos and mockery.
Tony leaned back in his chair, satisfaction radiating from every pore. "Most countries are five to ten years away from replicating this technology. Hammer Industries? Twenty years minimum. If ever."
Hammer ran back to his seat, his face flushed. "I'd like to note that the test pilot survived with only minor injuries!"
The chairman attempted damage control. "I think we've seen quite enough. Mr. Stark has made his point—"
Tony interrupted smoothly. "The point being: you're welcome."
"Excuse me?"
Tony stood, addressing the committee with theatrical formality. "I'm preventing nuclear proliferation. I've singlehandedly deterred multiple nations from pursuing aggressive military expansion. Iron Man technology is useful, and America is safer because of it."
He spread his arms. "You want my proprietary technology? Not happening. But I've done you all an enormous favor." He gestured to include Smith in the statement. "Smith and I are maintaining global stability—for free, I might add."
Tony turned to face the gallery. Everyone rose to their feet, applause building like a wave. Some were actually cheering.
"What more do you want from me?" Tony asked, his voice carrying across the room. "This is the deal. Take it or leave it."
He spun back toward the committee, pointing directly at the chairman. "I tried to cooperate with you people. But working with clowns is exhausting."
The chairman's face went nuclear. "Fuck you, Mr. Stark!"
Tony picked up his sunglasses from the table, sliding them on with perfect timing. "You seem upset. That's unfortunate."
His smile was sharp and unapologetic. "Look, I'm here to serve the people. I'm protecting American interests out of civic duty and personal pleasure. If I've proven anything today, it's that you can absolutely count on me to deliver results."
He checked his watch. "Now, unless there's actual business to conduct, I move to adjourn this hearing."
Smith and Rhodes both smiled at Tony's performance—pure Stark, equal parts brilliance and arrogance. Justin Hammer looked like he'd swallowed something toxic.
The chairman grabbed his gavel and slammed it down repeatedly. BANG. BANG. BANG.
The sharp reports cut through the noise, gradually restoring order.
"That concludes," the chairman said through clenched teeth, "Mr. Tony Stark's testimony regarding Iron Man weapons classification."
He paused, and Tony moved to stand. Time to make his exit before they thought of more questions.
"However," the chairman continued, his tone shifting to something more formal, "there is a second hearing scheduled for today."
Tony froze halfway out of his chair. He glanced at Smith, who was watching the proceedings with suddenly sharp attention.
"Please remain seated," the chairman instructed. "The next session will begin immediately."
Tony lowered himself back into his chair, leaning toward Smith. "You're up, buddy. Want me to stick around for moral support?"
"Might be educational," Smith replied quietly.
The rear doors of the hearing room opened with bureaucratic precision. A squad of Marines entered in formation, taking positions along both walls. They carried rifles at ready port, their presence transforming the atmosphere from circus to something far more serious.
The crowd's murmuring intensified. This wasn't standard hearing security.
Then three generals entered—Army, Navy, and Air Force, their uniforms displaying enough medals and ribbons to stock a jewelry store. General Ross led the group, his bearing projecting authority and purpose. They took seats in a designated VIP section to the committee's left.
Tony's eyebrows rose above his sunglasses. "Three generals? From different branches? That's... unusual."
The chairman cleared his throat, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he had moments ago. "The following hearing concerns Mr. Smith Doyle and the Universal Capsule Company."
Smith's expression remained neutral, but internally he was calculating possibilities. Ross had been friendly at the Expo. What game was he playing now?
"Mr. Smith Doyle," the chairman continued, consulting prepared notes, "based on joint analysis reports from the Navy, Army, and Air Force, the Universal Capsule Company's second-generation combat scouters and hover car technology present significant implications for national security."
He gestured to the generals. "I'd like to call upon our military representatives to present their findings."
A colonel emerged from behind the generals—an aide carrying a thick briefing folder. He approached a lectern that had been positioned for exactly this purpose.
"According to our comprehensive analysis," the colonel began, his voice carrying military precision, "the second-generation Combat Power Scouter's video recording, cloud upload functionality, and 500-point measurement ceiling represent capabilities that exceed civilian requirements."
He clicked to a prepared presentation slide. "These features have significant intelligence and security applications. We recommend developing a specialized military variant with enhanced encryption and restricted access protocols."
The next slide showed technical diagrams of the hover car. "Regarding the hover vehicle technology—this represents a paradigm shift in transportation and logistics. Legal frameworks will need updating to address low-altitude flight corridors, accident liability determination, and airspace management."
The colonel's expression remained professionally neutral, but his next words carried weight. "More significantly, hover technology has extraordinary military applications. Rapid deployment across hostile terrain, logistics support in areas lacking infrastructure, medical evacuation without landing zones."
He looked directly at Smith. "Therefore, the joint chiefs have unanimously agreed to designate the Universal Capsule Company for inclusion in the Department of Defense procurement registry as an approved military-industrial contractor."
Smith blinked. Wait, what?
Tony leaned over immediately. "Hold on. This isn't right. This isn't the rhythm of a sanction hearing."
His voice carried genuine confusion. "The treatment we're receiving is completely reversed. They tried to crucify me and they're... giving you military contracts?"
Smith nodded slowly, his mind racing through implications. "I don't feel right either. This is way too cooperative."
He caught General Ross's eye. Ross smiled—subtle, knowing, and entirely too satisfied with himself.
Understanding clicked into place. Ross was returning the favor for Smith's help during the Broadway incident. More than that, Ross was demonstrating his influence—showing Smith that he could mobilize all three military branches for a coordinated operation.
This wasn't about regulations or oversight. This was Ross building an alliance and flexing political muscle simultaneously.
Across the room, Justin Hammer's expression had gone from smug to horrified. Stark Industries had just withdrawn from military contracts. Was the Universal Capsule Company about to fill that vacuum?
The chairman addressed Smith directly. "Mr. Doyle, what are your thoughts on the military's proposal to designate Universal Capsule Company as a defense contractor?"
Smith took a moment to consider. Bulma's technical capabilities were extraordinary—she could develop military applications easily. But the Dragon Ball universe had produced some truly devastating technology. He needed to maintain separation between civilian products and military applications.
"I'd like to thank the military," Smith began carefully, "for recognizing the strategic value of Universal Capsule Company's innovations."
He paused, organizing his response. "However, the Universal Capsule Company's core mission has always been civilian applications—improving daily life for ordinary people. That won't change."
"That said," Smith continued, "I'm prepared to establish a subsidiary corporation specifically for military and government contracts. This entity will handle classified projects and defense applications separately from our consumer products division."
He met the colonel's gaze directly. "Regarding the second-generation scouter—we'll continue public sales. For civilians who don't require advanced features, the first-generation model remains available and adequate. We have no plans to discontinue either product line."
The chairman nodded, making notes. "A separate subsidiary for military contracts. That seems... reasonable."
General Ross leaned forward slightly, speaking for the first time. "The military looks forward to working with Universal Capsule Company's defense division. We have several projects that could benefit from your hover technology immediately."
"I'm sure we can find mutually beneficial arrangements," Smith replied diplomatically.
Tony was shaking his head in disbelief. "Man, this is not how I expected today to go. They grill me about weapons, then basically give you a government contract and a pat on the back."
"Different products, different politics," Smith said quietly.
"Apparently." Tony stood, straightening his jacket. "Well, since they're done trying to destroy us both, I suggest we get out of here before they change their minds."
Smith rose as well. The chairman made no move to stop them.
"This hearing is adjourned," the chairman announced. "Thank you for your cooperation, gentlemen."
Tony and Smith walked toward the exit together, Happy and Pepper falling in behind them. Fox and John Wick followed at a discrete distance, their presence adding an edge of security to the group.
As they reached the corridor outside, Tony pulled off his sunglasses. "So that's what it feels like to have the military on your side. I could get used to that."
"Don't get too comfortable," Smith warned. "Ross has his own agenda. This was him demonstrating power and building relationships. We're useful to him right now, but that can change."
"Still," Tony said, grinning, "better than getting hauled in front of a hostile committee. Which reminds me—I need a drink. Several drinks. You buying?"
Smith smiled. "After that performance? Yeah, I'm buying."
They headed for the exit, leaving the chaos of congressional oversight behind them.
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