Somewhere over the Syrian Desert

After stupidly charging into Syria to investigate SHIELD Agent Maria Hill’s intelligence reports that suggested the government was using stolen Starktech against their own people, Tony Stark was captured. His armor was stripped, save for the golden under-sheath stored in his bones, and his arc reactor wasn’t generating sufficient power to summon his armor.

That was when someone in an all-black suit of armor and claiming to be Iron Man broke into the prison, killed several guards and Syria’s Defense Minister, before escaping with Tony in tow. Now in the desert, this impostor dropped Tony on the ground and hovered before him.

“Who are you?” asked Tony. “Where did you get this tech from?”

“Your sins are coming back to haunt you, Mr. Stark,” said the Iron Man.

“What are you talking about?” asked Tony. “Take off that armor, show me who you are!”

Iron Man deactivated his hover mode and landed on the sand. He approached and Tony stepped back, prepared for an attack. But instead of it coming, the armor simply fell apart into a heap right in front of him. The suit itself was completely empty, with no pilot. Tony knelt down and picked up the faceplate, examining it. “Maria, do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“That part I understand. The question is why would it just fall apart after everything that just happened?” asked Tony. “And who sent it? Repulsor technology, so it’s definitely derived from Starktech, but I’ve never designed a suit like this. Where did it come from?”

Tony dropped the faceplate and stood, stretching his body. “Connect with one of our satellites and make contact with some friendlies. Something tells me I won’t be standing out alone for much longer.”

Saint Petersburg

Ivan Vanko monitored Tony Stark from the workshop he’d constructed with the help of funding from his silent partner. The arc reactor specifications obtained from his partner’s mole within Stark Enterprises proved quite effective in constructing a facsimile of the Iron Man armor, and now he was using the armor to broadcast a signal that enemy forces would be able to pick up.

All that mattered now was to wait for the fireworks to start. And while waiting, Vanko reviewed the systems on his own project, running through the debug. Not only his father’s Crimson Dynamo technology, but he’d also incorporated carbonadium weaponry from the KGB’s own Super Soldier project.

WHIPLASH

Part III

By Dino Pollard

Hammer Industries

When Sasha Hammer entered her office, she smirked at the man who sat behind her desk. The elder man had short, silver hair and was actively reading something on her computer screen. Sasha walked up behind her grandfather and peered over his shoulder.

“‘Stark intervention in Syria spells trouble for stock,’” she said, reading the headline of the business article.

Justin Hammer grinned. “If Stark’s actions continue to make shareholders nervous, the price of the stock could go into free-fall. This could not have gone over better.”

“Thought we agreed you would stay out of the office?” asked Sasha. “Rest of the world still thinks you’re dead and you’re making things difficult for me when you turn up here like this. No reason you can’t do this stuff from home.”

“True, but I do so miss this office,” said Hammer, sliding away from the desk and standing up. He turned around and looked out the windows overlooking the city of New York. “The view is quite spectacular.”

“Well, great view or not, you risk Mommy Dearest sending you right back to the afterlife every time you step outside,” said Sasha, a reference to her mother, Justine—who also happened to be the supervillainess known as the Crimson Cowl.

“Very well,” said Hammer. “Keep an eye on Stark’s stock, however. Perhaps put in a call to Kenjiro Fujikawa. Perhaps we can work out some sort of mutually-beneficial arrangement.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sasha walked over to the private elevator kept in her office. It went down to a small, private parking garage off-limits to all but her. She placed her thumb against the scanning pad and the elevator doors opened. “You coming?”

Hammer took one last look out over the skyline and entered the elevator with his granddaughter. Once the doors closed, a new figure shimmered into existence. He was thin, dressed in a white bodysuit and equipped with a hi-tech harness. His helmet resembled a gas mask and was equipped with glowing red eyes.

The Ghost had been invisible during the entire conversation between the two Hammers. “So it would appear the reports of Mr. Hammer’s death have been greatly exaggerated.”

The corporate saboteur went over to the computer Hammer had been on. He reached for a device on his belt, what appeared to be a small jump drive. Plugging it into one of the computer’s USB ports, a red light blinked on it. This transmitted directly to the Ghost’s helmet and he found himself able to scan through Hammer’s files through the cybernetic technology inside his suit.

“Encrypted data, Justin? Oh, aren’t you cute. I believe we’ll just save that for later,” said the Ghost, using his helmet to copy the files to his suit’s data storage. “Once I’ve bypassed your safeguards, we’ll see just what your current interest in Tony Stark is all about.”

The Ghost unplugged the jump drive and phased through the wall.

The Syrian Desert

[Tony, you’ve been at this for two hours,] said Maria.

He’d managed to find an oasis and had been tinkering with the empty suit of armor ever since. “Whoever built this definitely knows his stuff, Maria. And it bears a signature as well. Not only mine, but this is strangely reminiscent of Anton Vanko’s handiwork. Have you managed to make contact with anyone?”

[Negative. Perhaps I simply lack the significant power to boost the signal or perhaps we’re being jammed, but I’ve been unable to connect to any of our satellites.]

Tony sighed. He was at least thankful that the Extremis-powered golden under-sheath of his armor was functional. Although it had no flight capabilities, it was at least able to regulate his body temperature and keep him going for extended periods of time without food or water. But it wouldn’t last long, especially not out here.

“Maybe we should start walking,” he said.

[I’ve just received an incoming signal. It’s closing in, fast.]

Tony looked up in the sky, holding his hand up to block the sun from his vision. He could see a silhouette in the sky, flying directly towards him. Definitely humanoid. “Please tell me that’s Rhodey…”

The armored figure landed a few feet away from Tony and stood up straight. The suit was almost like a human version of a fighter jet. The suit was mostly white with some red trim. Although Tony hadn’t really encountered this particular iteration of the suit, he did know the pilot. Tony stood from the armor and approached as the pilot of the Airstrike armor removed his helmet. Beneath, he was bald with a mustache that twirled at the ends and a goatee.

“Dmitri, fancy seeing you here.” Tony extended his hand. “I guess Maria’s signal must have reached you.”

“Be glad it is only me, Tony,” said Dmitri. “I managed to convince my superiors to not send the entire Winter Guard after you. But this is conditional upon your cooperation.”

Tony’s face was one of surprise. “Dmitri, what are you talking about? The Winter Guard?”

“You broke international agreements by intervening in Syria. And then you killed many soldiers, as well as the Defense Minister, in an escape attempt,” said Dmitri.

“I didn’t kill anyone!” said Tony. “That pilot’s suit was faulty, the reactor overloaded! And the Minister was killed by that!”

Dmitri followed Tony’s finger as he pointed at the disassembled suit. He walked over and examined it from a distance, then looked at Tony. “Different look from your usual. But what do you expect me to believe? The armor killed the Defense Minister of its own volition and then liberated you?”

“Yes!” said Tony, then realized how it sounded. “I mean no, it’s obviously been remote-piloted, or it might be equipped with an artificial intelligence. Whatever the case, the suit collapsed as soon as it brought me out here.”

“Very well, then simply come with me, without the suit, and we shall get to the bottom of this,” said Dmitri.

Tony breathed easily. “Nothing would please me more, big guy.”

Dmitri placed his helmet back on. “Good, then let us—eh?” His sensors picked something up and Airstrike spun around. The collapsed armor powered-up and stood. It flew right past Airstrike and made a beeline for Tony, opening up and encasing him within its shell, only the faceplate still up.

“What are you doing, Tony? We had an agreement!”

“This isn’t me! Maria, what’s going on? Can you override the suit’s control?”

[Negative, the suit is being remote-piloted, I cannot override!]

The faceplate snapped shut and the Iron Man raised his arm, unleashing a repulsor blast. Airstrike raised his arms at the last moment, blocking with his gauntlets. “Tony!”

“Dmitri, you have to believe me, it’s not me!”

[Tony, microphones are deactivated. He cannot hear you.]

“Stay out of my way, Dmitri,” said the armor. “I won’t warn you again.”

“What is that?” asked Tony. “I didn’t say that!”

[The suit is using vocal enhancement to mimic the sound of your own voice.]

“Maria, can you open up a comm-link to the Airstrike armor?”

[There is not yet sufficient power. But I have something I can try.]

“Do it.”

“Do not threatenme, Stark!” shouted Airstrike.

Iron Man rocketed into the atmosphere and Airstrike followed. Machine guns mounted on Airstrike’s gauntlets opened fire on the Iron Man. The armor responded to the attack, swerving to avoid most of the rounds. It stopped in mid-air and rotated, firing a repulsor beam from the arc reactor.

“You were warned, Bukharin,” said the armor. “This is now self-defense!”

[Tony, I’ve managed to siphon some power from this suit’s reactor and channel it into your own.]

“So Extremis modules are back online?” asked Tony.

[Yes.]

“Then do your job and hack into its communications array, patch me through to Dmitri!”

[Executing.]

“Stop telling me and just do it!”

Missile launchers rose from Airstrike’s shoulder panels and unleashed a flurry of tiny rockets. The Iron Man flew through most of them, nimbly avoiding them, almost effortlessly so. Tony could only watch as this happened against his will, and the engineer in him couldn’t help admiring the speed.

“This thing handles pretty well, doesn’t it?”

[Tony, I don’t believe this is an appropriate time for—]

“You’re right, sorry,” said Tony.

Iron Man rocketed forward, crossing its arms over its head and barreling into Airstrike’s chest. The armor was thrown back and Iron Man struck several more times with its fists. It rocketed up and then straight down, legs striking Airstrike’s helmet and the armor followed it with a flurry of repulsor blasts.

Airstrike went crashing down to the ground, hitting the sand. Inside the armor, Dmitri groaned, feeling it through the shock absorbers. He struggled slightly to get to his feet. “Stark, you are digging yourself in deeper!”

He looked up at the hovering Iron Man. “Is that all you’ve got, Tony? Don’t make me laugh!”

“Oh no, Dmitri. I’m not even close to being done with you, yet,” said the armor.

Airstrike rose again, firing off a barrage of lasers. A few of these struck the armor, but Iron Man was too fast and too nimble for Airstrike. But then Tony got some words of encouragement.

[Tony, communications are now online.]

Airstrike continued barreling forward and Iron Man prepared for another series of strikes. “Tony, stop this now!”

“Dmitri, listen to me very carefully,” said Tony, his voice now coming through Dmitri’s transmitter.

The Iron Man suit cut loose with a new repulsor attack, far more powerful than the ones before. This resulted in almost all its energy being directed solely on Airstrike. The Russian superhero was thrown from the assault, going offline and falling to the ground.

Saint Petersburg

[Sensors read no life-signs.]

Vanko sat back in his chair and smiled. He could see the recorded footage from the armor and replayed it over and over. “By now, this has no doubt been transmitted from the Airstrike armor back to the Russian government. Stark’s legacy is sealed. Now it’s time to bring him in for the kill.” He entered a few more commands into the keyboard.

[Command acknowledged. En route.]

With that finished, Vanko stood from his desk and walked over to the suit of armor he’d been designing. Sleek, silver helmet and silver components of the armor with black under-sheath. “Activate.”

The suit’s components slid apart, effectively splitting it in half so Vanko could step inside. The armored carapace closed around him and when the face-plate lowered, the heads-up display appeared, beamed directly into his retina. The suit showed him the location of Tony Stark in the armor Vanko had designed to capture and frame him.

And he would be there when the suit arrived at its destination, ready to deliver the killing blow.

Stark Tower

“What does Stark going rogue mean for the future of Stark Enterprises?”

“Have you seen the stock prices today?”

“Is Stark Enterprises at risk of a hostile takeover with so many shareholders selling?”

“Will Stark’s Syria conflict effect his business interests in China and Russia?”

James Rhodes pushed through the reporters gathered in front of the New York headquarters, with Pepper Potts by his side and Happy Hogan walking in front of them, trying his best to keep the reporters from getting too close. “Get away, ya vultures! We got a business to run!”

Rhodey sighed and pulled away from his friends, turning to address the reporters. “As Chief Operations Officer of Stark Enterprises, I can tell you this much: at this time, we have no comment. Any further harassment will also be answered with a stern ‘no comment’. I’d say that you shouldn’t waste your time, but the twenty-four hour news cycle has nothing but time to waste. I’ve got actualresponsibilities. So stop annoying me with inane, skewed questions you know won’t be answered.”

With that, he turned his back to the reporters and entered the lobby of Stark Tower. Both Happy and Pepper were waiting for him and he sighed. “From now on, I fly to work.”

“Yeah, thinkin’ ‘bout borrowing one of Tony’s suits myself,” said Happy. “He keep any spares around here?”

“You kidding?” asked Rhodey. “It’s Tony, he’s always got a suit nearby.”

They stepped inside the elevator and as it rode up, the windows allowed them to look over the media blitz. Pepper watched all this with a frown. “They’re not going to stop. Doesn’t matter how many times Tony’s saved them, they’re just waiting for a chance to condemn him.”

“Public enemies make for good ratings,” said Rhodey. “Welcome to the twenty-first century.”

The elevator dinged once it reached the top floor. Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy exited, walking down the corridor to Rhodey’s office. Once she saw them, his secretary, Katherine Rennie, stood. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rhodes, I tried to stop him, but he had some compelling credentials…”

Rhodey looked at his executive secretary. “Are you okay, Mrs. Rennie? What are you talking about?”

“Just…go inside,” said Mrs. Rennie. “He’s been waiting for you.”

“Who’s waiting for—?” Pepper began to ask, but she silenced herself once she opened the door to Rhodey’s office and saw him with her own eyes. He sat at Rhodey’s desk, dressed in an expensive suit, a smug grin beneath his thin mustache.

“Just what the hell are you doing here?” asked Rhodey through gritted teeth.

“Such hostility, Mr. Rhodes.” Morgan Stark leaned back in the chair. “Is that any way to greet the new CEO of Stark Enterprises?”

To Be Concluded…