Date:14/07/2008
Location: Miami, military base
The computers in the background were the only source of light in the command room , techs, head of departments and other operatives crowded the room busily. The only person out of place was the visibly sleep deprived young man that stood, arms half folded as he props his stubble lined chin in his hand. He looked unkept and just a bit crazed, but it was understandable. The main door opened and a man, late forties, stepped in. In his arms was a computer, one that was connected to no public server and was used specifically for black ops.
"Mr. Stark, I'm sorry I'm late," his tanned hand came out for a handshake. The gesture seemed natural , probably from the many special operations he carried out in his profession.
" Oh no , it's fine , Sergeant McKenna." Matthew said , returning the handshake , a polite smile on his tired face.
" Well please follow me," after a moment, he released the shake and turned toward a side room, a large digital table at the center . His hand pressed lightly on it , the screen lighting up with videos , files and satellite images on different locations in Afghanistan.
" His convoy was attacked by a group known as the Ten Rings," his hand swiped on the screen, the information on the Ten rings coming to the front and a grainy photo of the man appearing, " their leader, The Mandarin , is a known criminal , crimes range from arms dealing, terrorism, assassinations, exploiting global conflicts and more." As he speaks, the photos change to mass shootings, executions, and weapons launching into villages and buildings.
"We assume he took your brother for the blueprint of your company's new Jericho missiles." the man said gravely , the exhibition launch coming to the forefront.
"So you're telling me some terrorist kidnapped my brother because they wanted a missile any engineer with a background in mechanics could do?"
" Not every engineer is a Stark" the man scoffed at the notion.
" So what now, have you found any trace of him?" Matthew asked, his hands fidgeting with the edge of the table.
" No, we are not gonna give up looking quite yet." he sighed before continuing in a pitying tone. " But , Mr. Stark … at some point, if we don't find him, we will need to assume he has DIA"
"Are you trying to say that my brother is dead?" his voice was icy, his hands freezing in place.
"No but we are not disregarding the possibility-" the man said awkwardly , trying to smoothen the situation.
" My brother is not dead!" Matthew slammed his hands into the glass , interrupting the Sergeant's line of thought. Realising that his outburst was unnecessary to the man that was only trying to do his job , Matthew stood back and fixed his blazer.
"Sorry, I have another appointment." He turned on his heels and walked out, the door closing on the concerned expression on McKenna's stressed face.
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Location: Malibu, California, Stark mansion
" Alright kid , what is the colour of the first podium winner in the formula 1 world championship race in 1950?" Tony asked , the recording a bit static .
"In 1950 the winning car was painted Rosso Corsa or racing red. Alfa Romeo driven by Giuseppe "Nino" Farina took the first place podium at Silverstone" an excited young boy responded in the video , he looked no older than eight, but was assisting in fixing an old car. A video taken by Jarvis a year or so before he died. The memories of times when they could have just been themselves and not "the Starks".
Matthew looked up at video the polaroids in his hands of the time he spent with his brother, the guilt eating at him. He dropped the photos to the side on the table, moving his keypad to the center of his desk. His hands moved across the keys , desktop opening and the video projection pausing.
"Where are you?" he muttered to himself , going back to his investigation on the Ten rings. The encrypted files that were definitely stolen lighting the screen.
He glanced down for a second , staring at the cables . His eyes caught an unusual red light among the plugs, one that was not there when he left for Italy. His brows knit together as his gaze goes back to the screen . his hands already clicking away to find what exactly the obvious out of place item was connected to.
A file titled " Logistics Data/RES" that showed recent activity caught his attention but when he clicked on it , the file was password protected.
He let out a scoff " like that ever stopped me" , another window opened and lines of code were inputted before he simply clicked enter and files of recordings, surveillance on the monitors and records of user IP displayed itself. Confused , he decides to track back the most recent one, and finds something that caused him to freeze.
" This was… yesterday" a recording of him, entering his id and classified files that no one other than shareholders should see were shown. He traces it back further , to a computer on the stark company's main server. He opens another folder and finds more classified documents , money transactions that neither he nor Tony signed off on, a shipment of the very missiles that were only ever sold once appearing, but it was not being shipped to the military but to the very people that attacked Tony 2 months ago.
"That snake." Obadiah Stane , his name written in the bottom of every receipt , causing Matthew to move back in shock , his mind spinning with connections , piecing together the 'why', 'who' and 'how'.
He ran a hand through his hair, gripping at his roots before composing himself.
"This is … a shitshow" he gritted his teeth as he noticed a video ,recent, mostly. Tony, in a chair with a sign ,surrounded by armed men. His only hope was that he could trace back the video, and that he could do.