The dust hadn't even settled over the smoldering crater of the secret military base before Tony Stark moved for the jugular. He was a master of information and a victim with the world's most powerful legal team.
The courtroom in Washington D.C. felt more like a funeral for the Pentagon's leadership. Tony sat at the plaintiff's table, looking impeccably sharp, while the gallery was packed with international journalists.
Tony's legal team projected the "Micro-Drone" footage onto a massive screen. The jury watched in stunned silence as high-ranking Generals were seen shaking hands with the "escaped" Obadiah Stane, standing over a weaponized suit built from stolen Stark blueprints.
"My client is suing for the state-sponsored assassination attempt on a private citizen. The Department of Defense broke the social contract of this country." his lead attorney announced.
The "Trojan" reactor's explosion provided the final forensic nail. The residue left behind matched a specific "signature" Tony had registered with the patent office months prior. By the end of the week, the Secretary of Defense was forced to resign, and the military was ordered to pay a settlement so massive it threatened to de-fund an entire carrier strike group.
Back at the Stark penthouse in New York, the chaos of the world seemed miles away. The relationship between Tony and Pepper had shifted; the frantic energy of "Boss and Assistant" had smoothed into something deeper, built on a foundation of shared secrets and mutual protection.
Tony was standing by the window, watching the city lights, when Pepper walked in with two glasses of scotch. She walked right up into his personal space, handing him a glass.
"The lawyers say the settlement is finalized," she said softly. "You just dismantled the most powerful military on Earth without throwing a single punch."
Tony turned, his eyes softening as they met hers. "I didn't do it for the money, Pep. I did it because they thought they could take what was ours."
Pepper smiled, a genuine warm expression that didn't reach her face often during the weapons-manufacturing days. " 'Ours'? Since when do you share your toys?"
"Since I realized that I'm not the one running this show," Tony said, stepping closer. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing her arm. "You stayed when you should have run. You're the only reason the 'Turtle' came out of his shell."
Pepper didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned her head against his shoulder. "Just don't make me regret it, Tony. No more 'suicide missions' to Afghanistan without a heads-up, okay?"
"Deal," he whispered, the magnetic hum in his chest calming in her presence.
The peaceful moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. A woman entered, carrying a stack of legal briefs. She was striking with auburn hair and an air of lethal competence.
"Mr. Stark, Miss Potts," she said, "The new non-disclosure agreements for the R&D department are ready for your signature."
"Thank you, Natalie," Pepper said, turning back to work mode. "Tony, this is Natalie Rushman from Legal. She's been a godsend during the transition."
Tony's Eye Boy vision flared for a split second, and the world of the boardroom dissolved into a complex map of biometrics and skeletal structures. As "Natalie" walked across the room, the data streaming into Tony's mind was impossible.
Her bone density was twice that of a normal woman, and her muscle fibers were woven with a high-tensile strength that suggested biological enhancement. She moved with a kinetic grace that reminded him of a predator.
"She's had a variant of the serum," Tony thought, his mind racing. "Or something very close to it."
Then his vision scanned lower. Beneath the tailored fabric of her high-end business skirt, his thermal sensors picked up the distinct cold signature of a compact Glock-26 holstered against her inner thigh.
"Natalie, is it?" Tony asked, his eyes lingering a second too long as he leaned back. "You have an impressive resume. Triple-major, fluent in five languages, and apparently a black belt in 'getting things done.' But it's rare to find a legal assistant with the muscle density of a middleweight champion and a concealed carry permit for the office."
Natasha Romanoff heart rate remained a steady, eerie 60 beats per minute—a dead giveaway of deep-cover training. She offered a polite smile. "It's a dangerous world for a woman in corporate litigation, Mr. Stark. I like to be prepared."
"I'm sure you do," Tony replied, a knowing glint in his eye. He knew exactly what she was. No one with that level of enhancement works in a legal department unless they are being paid to watch a high-value target. "I like preparation. It keeps things... interesting."
As she left the room with a practiced stride, Tony turned back to Pepper. He looked like he had just found a new piece for his chessboard.
"She's good, Pep. Maybe too good," Tony said, watching the door close. "Keep her close. I want to see which agency is footing the bill for a Super Soldier to file our paperwork.
—————-
Natasha Romanoff's POV
FIELD LOG: Operation Iron Man
Subject: Anthony Edward Stark
Agent: Romanoff, N. (Deep Cover: Natalie Rushman)
Location: Stark Industries HQ – New York
Observation 1: The Corporate Fortress
Walking through the halls of Stark Industries is like walking through a high-security intelligence hub. The "Weapons Division" may be closed, but the surveillance has doubled. My sensors detected three different types of scanners—thermal, biometric, and one I couldn't identify—before I even reached the executive elevator.
Observation 2: The "New" Tony Stark
When I entered the penthouse, the biometric data I gathered was... unsettling. According to the SHIELD files, Tony Stark is a genius with a heart condition and a history of substance abuse.
The man I saw today is physically peak. His resting heart rate is abnormally stable, even for a high-performance athlete. He didn't look up when I entered, but he knew exactly where I was. He moves with a predatory stillness I've only seen in seasoned assassins. Most men look at "Natalie Rushman" and see a target or a trophy. Stark looked at me like he was deconstructing my DNA. His eyes... there's a strange, blue-tinged luminosity in them when he's thinking. It felt like he was looking through my clothes, through my skin, directly at the Glock on my thigh.
Observation 3: The Pepper Potts Variable
The relationship between Stark and Virginia Potts has evolved. She is his anchor. There is a new level of synchronization between them. He is protective out of genuine loyalty. She is the only person who can walk into his personal space without him tensing up.
If we need to leverage Stark, Potts is no longer an option. He has surrounded her with a security detail that looks like a private mercenary army. I counted four "cleaners" in the lobby who didn't have CIA or FBI signatures. Stark is building his own private army, and he's keeping the roster close to his chest.
Observation 4: The Breach of Cover?
During our brief interaction, Stark made a comment about my "muscle density." It was subtle—framed as a compliment to my fitness—but it was a warning.
He knows I'm not a legal assistant. He knows I'm enhanced. The fact that he let me walk out of that room means he's not afraid of our agency. He's confident. He's playing with me. He's letting the spider into the web because he wants to see who is pulling the strings.
Conclusion:
If Tony Stark is "Iron Man," then the suit is not just a vehicle—it is a shell for something far more advanced. He has undergone a biological or technological shift that we haven't accounted for. He isn't just building weapons anymore; he is becoming one. I need more time to confirm if the man and the machine are truly one and the same, or if he has a "guardian" he's hiding in the basement.
Recommendation: Maintain deep cover. Do not engage. If he figures out I'm SHIELD, I don't think a standard extraction team will be enough to get me out of this building.
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