Stanley Lieber was engrossed in the live broadcast from Las Vegas when he heard the first thump. The 64 year old Stark security guard tore his eyes from the recorded footage of Iron Man's brief fight with some giant guy in brown armor---who could keep track of them all, anyway?---and looked at the monitor bank to his right. These screens put the television to shame with their high definition resolution and multi-spectrum capacity. The vocal controls weren't too shabby, either.

Another thump from above brought Stanley back to the task as hand.

"Camera 7 and 12, zoom in and enhance sector 4, outpost Beta."

The roof of the same small sentry station he was assigned to appeared.

Nothing was there.

The cameras then began to cycle through the spectrum, changing every five seconds. Stanley didn't remember all of the different modes, but he knew infrared and ultraviolet were the first two. Neither of these picked up anything. The other scans seemed to be just as inconclusive.

Stanley sighed. He needed this aggravation like a hole in the head.

He was six months from retirement, and unlike his friends at Oscorp and Roxxon, he hadn't been forced to take an early buy out. All he had to do was come to work and avoid any mistakes, and Mr. Stark's generous pension plan would be sending him and the wife to a nice home in Arizona near their son and the grandkids. He'd been with the company over three decades and seen quite a few interesting things over the years. He even held a couple defeated super villains until the authorities could take them away. Both Mr. Stark and Iron Man knew his name and had spoken to him on a few occasions. He had a lot of pride in his company.

But Stanley had to admit he was a bit slower than he used to be. And that his eyesight wasn't as sharp. And that his wife Barbara had also been bugging him to get a hearing aid for months now. And of course, the rest of the crew loved calling him the Old Man. If he alerted everyone and it turned out to be nothing, he'd never live it down.

He sighed again, fiddled with the top button of his Stark Enterprises uniform (which was rather snug around the middle these days), and turned his attention back to the television. Just six more months . . .

Right outside the window, a vaguely man-sized ripple in the air moved slowly and carefully away. It got within 10 feet of the ground and dropped neatly into the shadows.

Note to self, the young man thought, Figure out how to mute noise better.

- - - - -

Iron Man's world was one of fire and pain.

The two commingled freely in his mind as the heat from the surrounding inferno began to work its way deep inside him. His whole body felt like it was cooking within a human shaped frying pan. At the same time, both of his arms were slowly being ground to powder. The suit's personal force field had crumpled and now the armor's physical integrity was about to collapse.

It's now or never, Stark.

"Computer," he gasped through nearly crushed ribs, "Sequence: Flash-Bang!"

Immediately, the armor's Unibeam ignited. A massive light beam flashed out nearly 180 degrees, coating the entire upper torso of the Juggernaut in almost pure white radiance. Polarized barriers protected his own eyesight, but his foe wasn't as lucky. One second later, the sonics kicked in, their piercing wail hundreds of times more powerful than an aircraft turbine at full throttle. The small percentage that leaked through the helmet was enough to make Iron Man flinch in pain.

The effect on Juggernaut was immediate. The instant he realized he was blind, his ears nearly exploded with sound. He dropped the Avenger in a vain attempt to cover his ears, discovered his own helmet prevented him from doing so, and roared in frustration. Now deprived of both senses, the massive man lurched forward, staggered and confused.

Got to hit him before he can recover. He's not really hurt, just disoriented.

Iron Man rerouted most of his systems into the muscular enhancers, re-established his sense of direction and hit Juggernaut with everything he had. Here's hoping he has to be concentrating for that damn force field to work completely . . .

One resounding CLANG later, and the Juggernaut's body flew up in a graceful arc. He tumbled through the air helplessly for several seconds. His vision and hearing were just beginning to clear when he hit the water with a tremendous splash.

Cain Marko sank into the depths even more confused. Where did all this water come from? He wasn't worried about drowning. He didn't have to breathe when he didn't want to. And now that he'd had a few moments to think about it, he didn't appear to be injured either. His ears were still ringing a little, but he knew he wasn't deafened. His vision wouldn't be a problem either.

Iron Man had tricked him. He couldn't really hurt him so he made him think he had been hurt. Took advantage of his break in concentration and knocked him somewhere. Juggernaut smiled. It didn't matter. It only delayed the inevitable. He'd climb out here as soon as he hit bottom and he'd be ready this time.

Nothing Iron Man could do would stop him.

- - - - -

Iron Man staggered out of the gasoline fire, steaming armor leaving molten foot prints in the asphalt. As the surrounding civilians began to crowd around, he gestured for them to stay back. "Don't get too close! I'll burn you!"

Got to lose some of this heat and give the refractory coating a chance to catch up.

He looked long and hard at the backed up traffic and spotted an ice cream truck. Any port in a storm.

He walked towards the truck, ripped open the rear door and climbed inside. The refrigerated vehicle sank a few inches under his weight. Almost immediately, several hundred dollars worth of ice cream became mush and the entire rear of the vehicle was lost in steam. Iron Man sat down wearily, as if a patron at a sauna.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing to my product?" the driver shouted from the cab, recoiling from the steam that began to filter forward to his seat.

"Stark Enterprises will replace the entire contents, sir. At full retail price."

Tony Stark filtered out the man's reply, mentally running diagnostics.

I need two minutes to get everything back up and running. I can convert some of this excess heat into energy and reboot the propulsion system at the same time. In the meantime . . .

"Computer, connect me with the Hoover Dam Administration."

Five seconds later, "We're here, Iron Man."

"The package has arrived, gentlemen. Do you have the equipment I require?"

"Yes, although we're not sure what you are going to do with it."

"With any luck, gentlemen, I'll be saving the day."

- - - - -

The young man was careful not to look down.

Although he had done this type of thing a couple times before during test runs of his equipment, he was not a great fan of heights. The logical part of his mind reminded him that the electro-static charge he was generating could hold nearly two tons, but his base instincts were screaming that he was climbing up a sheer wall over 20 stories high and could fall to his death at any second.

He wondered if Spider-man ever had such thoughts.

Maybe I'll get a chance to ask him someday . . .

A few minutes later and he reached the top of the administration building.

Now he had to make a choice.

He was certain Stark's penthouse would have some heavy duty surveillance and probably serious defense mechanisms. So far, the stealth field had held up well. He hadn't been detected as far as he knew. He was monitoring radio traffic on the SE band, and unless the transmissions were encrypted (a possibility he had to consider), everything appeared to be normal. He felt a rush of adrenalin when he contemplated a possible confrontation with Iron Man.

Now that would be a field test.

So did he attempt to enter the penthouse directly? Or should he enter the building first and then work his way up?

He sighed, leaning halfway over the edge, careful not to touch the roof itself.

Nearby, a couple seagulls perched on the ledge cocked their heads in his direction, determined that he was incredibly unnatural, and took off into the dark sky.

Too bad he had never figured out the whole boot jet thing, the young man thought as he watched them disappear. Flying would have made things a heck of a lot easier.

- - - - -

Iron Man stood on top of the Hoover Dam, battered armor gleaming as it bathed in illumination from several spotlights.

He was alone.

Traffic had long since been diverted from the dam and all the tourists evacuated.

Somewhere deep inside the massive manmade structure, a skeleton crew of technicians were standing by to do their part in this rather dangerous gambit. Most of them thought the Golden Avenger was crazy, and one had actually voiced his concerns to the armored hero. It just didn't seem possible that what had been proposed would actually work. But Iron Man had invoked Avenger emergency priority one status, and that meant they had to do everything in their power to assist him. The bean counters would figure out the red tape later, and, there was going to be a ton of it.

In the meantime, all they had to do was wait.

It didn't take long.

Pressure sensors picked up something climbing the side of the dam underneath the water. Something man-sized, but somehow capable of exerting enough force on the concrete to trigger warning lights on the various consoles in the Hoover Dam's control room. They all knew what it was.

It was up to Iron Man now.

- - - - -

Juggernaut climbed steadily up the side of the dam, fingers gouging out handhold after handhold, while his booted feet did the same below him. Water dripped off his armor and some lapped lazily around his neck, trapped inside his helmet by the seal that connected it to his shoulders. He'd take care of that annoyance just as soon as he recycled a certain walking tin can . . .

He was pissed off now. Where did this high and mighty hero get the idea that he could possibly stand a chance against him? Him, the unstoppable Juggernaut, who had taken on the Hulk, Thor, and entire teams of X-men! Time to show Iron Man the true meaning of power.

I'll start by ripping his helmet right off him, and maybe take his head with it.

These dark thoughts continued until he finally reached the top of the dam.

Cain Marko folded a reinforced guard rail out of his way like a piece of paper and climbed up. Less than 50 feet away, Iron Man faced him, lit up like a Christmas tree in the middle of several spotlights.

He'd seen better days, looking half melted in spots, with large dents in a several places. In addition, all kinds of cables and wiring were connected to him haphazardly, kind of like one of those poor bastards you'd find in intensive care.

Still, there was a kind of defiance in the Avenger's stance that irritated him.

"Ha!" Juggernaut sneered, "You look like crap!"

"Last chance to surrender, Juggernaut."

"Are you kidding? Look at you! I've seen better metal in scrap yards!"

"Why don't you save yourself more trouble and call it quits?"

"Call it quits? I haven't even broken a sweat yet," Juggernaut took a step forward, "I'm ready for you now."

Another step. "No more tricks."

Juggernaut charged.

Here goes everything.

Tony Stark opened his com-link, "Transfer all power to me now!"

"Circuits opened. Transfer commencing," came the crisp reply.

Seventeen turbines whined at full speed, pouring over 2 million kilowatts of power into his systems. In addition, electrical grids from Southern California, Nevada, and Arizona went dark as their power came coursing back to the dam which had generated it in the first place and poured into Iron Man's muscle enhancers.

The Vegas strip darkened.

Los Angeles went black.

Lights dimmed as far away as Phoenix.

Ripples from this power drain flowed across the country as electrical technicians from Seattle to Dallas sat up and took notice.

The armor redlined almost immediately, and every warning light he had installed flashed brightly and burned out an instant later. There was no way he could hold this amount of energy without killing himself in mere seconds.

Fortunately, he had a place to send it.

Juggernaut was almost on him now, giant fist raised, ready to smash him into metal-covered pulp.

Iron Man brought his right hand back, made a fist, and delivered a massive upper cut with his whole body, just as his foe loomed over him.

The collision was titanic.

Concrete cracked all along the surface of the dam.

Windows blew out miles away.

The sonic boom was heard as far Vegas, Laughlin and Kingman, Arizona. The technicians protected within the dam would complain of hearing loss for days.

Others would talk about the reverse meteorite. Some kind of object burning upwards through the sky, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared. NASA would pick it up shortly and alert the Defense Department about a clandestine launch of some kind. The DOD would raise the threat level to yellow until they heard the real story, which was almost unbelievable.

Tony Stark, on the other hand, as the architect of this strange phenomenon, was furiously ripping away the excess cables and shutting down every system he could. There weren't too many of these, as most had shorted out. In fact, the armor was mostly dead weight now.

Probably beyond repair, he mused.

He sighed, ripping the last cable out. The entire area was pitch black, as he had even siphoned the back-up generators. That should change within a minute or two, as the technicians worked furiously to restore normal flow. The state power grids should return back to normal by dawn.

Tony sat down wearily and pondered the clear night sky. The stars shone brightly now that they had no ground based illumination to compete with.

He smiled.

Juggernaut was getting a nice view of them right now.

His orbit would decay eventually, but probably not for a few months. Plenty of time to figure out what to do with him. He doubted the Vault or anywhere else on Earth could hold him, but Professor Xavier's team must have found some way to neutralize him in the past. He'd have to contact the X-men and ask for suggestions.

But that was a problem for another day.

- - - - -

The sun had just set, painting the ocean blood red before darkening into shadow.

Justin Hammer ignored the spectacular view from his villa. His guests had just left, contour lines from their vehicle fading into the deepening black of the new night sky. He absently swirled his glass of wine, while smoke from his cigarette trickled upward and was lost in the air of his open balcony.

Negotiations had gone well. The alliance was mutually beneficial; an agreement between equal parties. Whoever was in charge of AIM these days was trying new methodologies. Of course, he would keep his guard up. AIM, although not the power it was even a decade ago, was quite formidable and generally not to be crossed. Their technology was state of the art and, in some cases, well beyond. However, they were considered a terrorist organization and under constant attack from Interpol, SHIELD, and various hero groups.

His enterprises, on the other hand, bore the trappings of legitimacy. His dealings with the super-human community were vast and yet he had never been so much as indicted. Fully one third of the various technology-based villains and several dozen others were on his payroll either directly or indirectly. Income from these underground assets was close to 3 billion in the last fiscal year alone. Combine this with his legitimate activities, and Justin Hammer was one of the top power brokers in the world.

Both he and AIM brought something to the table the other needed. His network of operatives and corporations combined with AIM's technology and scientific resources would be practically unstoppable. Patents of AIM concepts by Hammer Industries would line his pockets while providing AIM much needed income for their own clandestine efforts. His elite operatives, equipped with AIM's latest tech, would protect both of them from unwanted super-human attention.

It was perfect, except for one problem.

Stark, and by extension, Iron Man.

Anthony was too keen for his own good. He would recognize the new technologies and figure out where they ultimately came from. The Armor Wars had proved that. Soon Iron Man, SHIELD, and the Avengers would be involved. Given enough time, he could bring it all down.

But not if they brought him down first.

Hammer smiled, and lifted his glass in a mock toast.

Ah Anthony, I will miss our little games.

He casually tipped the glass, letting wine spill slowly into the dark jungle below.

But all games eventually must end.

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NEXT ISSUE: The identity of the mysterious teen revealed! Do not miss it!