Chapter 26
She drove down country road, flipping through the files she had been given angrily. There was nothing there, nothing usable, nothing that she could even try and take advantage of when it came to bringing down the Mandarin.
All that was listed was a big bold MIA on the case files.
MIA…MIA.
She knew the soldiers were working on a classified project, but were they really MIA? What when in the last few hours she'd fought several of them.
But why did those letters sound so familiar.
MIA.
She turned the paper around and gasped.
AIM.
Why did that sound familiar?
She picked up her cellphone and began dialing.
"Hello?" Her Rhodey Bear called out.
"You ever have a chick straddling you and you look up and suddenly she's glowing from the inside out, kind of a bright orange?" she asked, wondering if he'd encountered any of these glowing people himself.
"Yeah, I've had that," Rhodey deadpanned, "Who is this?"
"It's me, Sweetheart," she said with a grin, "Now, last time I went missing, if I remember correctly, you came looking for me. What are you doing?"
"A little knock-and-talk, making friends in Pakistan. What are you doing?" Rhodey asked, and she could hear the worry in his voice, despite his words.
"Your redesign, your big rebrand, that was AIM, right?" She asked, needing to know if she was just acting crazy or if there was any truth in all of this.
"Yeah?" Rhodey said, sounding a little puzzled.
"I'm gonna find a heavy-duty comm sat right now, I need your login," She told him.
"It's the same as it's always been, WarMachine68," He told her.
"Password?" she asked, throwing the file to the ground as she drove faster.
"Well, look, I gotta change it every time you hack in, Tony," Rhodey said exasperatedly.
"It's not the '80s, nobody says "hack" any more. Besides am I really hacking if you give it to me? Please?" she asked.
"WAR MACHINE ROX," He sighed, "with an 'X', all caps."
She laughed at that, "Yeah he does. That is so much better than 'lron Patriot'."
She saw a Memorial Hall, and she quickly spun the car around. She grabbed the Coyboy hat and covered her face, as she moved towards a news truck. If this backfired, she might as well have just told the Mandarin where she was.
She climbed in, and took Channel D offline, as she checked the internet speeds. 9.8 MBPS? What kind of speeds were that?
The truck door opened just then, and she heard the guy sound tired.
"Excuse me, Miss. I don't know who-" he started. and she spun around in her chair in a villain like reveal.
"Shh," she said, raising a finger to her lips. "Keep it down."
"Mom I need to call you back, something magical is happening," he said, hanging up the phone and looking at her in awe. "Toni Stark is in my van!"
"No, she's not!" she said quickly, trying to make sure he didn't draw any attention to them.
"I knew you were still alive!" He said excitedly, looking like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Come on in. Close the door," she whispered, trying to draw him inside and attention away from them.
"Oh, wow. Can I just say, Ma-am-" he chattered. "I am your biggest fan."
She shifted uncomfortably. She had long since gotten used to her fame, but it didn't make it any easier.
"Okay. First, is this your van?" Toni asked, trying to get right into it, "Is anyone else gonna come in?"
"No, no, no. Just us," he told her quickly.
"Great. What's your name?" she said, standing to shake his hand.
"Gary," he said amazed, as he took her in.
"Gary," she confirmed.
"Oh, wow," he said dazed.
"Right there is fine," she said, trying to keep him calm. "Okay."
"Okay," he looked up at her.
"I get a lot of this, it's okay," she reassured him.
"Oh, good. Can I just say?" He started.
"What do you want? Yeah," she encouraged him. The sooner this was over the sooner she could get into the servers.
"I love you," he blurted out, "I used to have your poster on my wall as a kid, and I've just always thought you were amazing. Your inventions are absolutely brilliant, and you're so beautiful. Man. This is surreal."
"Okay," she said, a little unsure of how to react to that. Of course she'd known that she'd been on the walls of teenage boys. But that didn't make it any less weird to hear about.
"I don't want to make things awkward for you, but I do have to show you, Boom!" he said, lifting up his sleeve, and there, on his arm, was a tattoo of her face.
Dear Sweet Curie.
She was not prepared for this.
"I'm sorry. Is that me?" she asked, unsure of what to say.
"Yeah. It's... I mean... I had them do it off a doll that I made, so it's not like it's off a picture. So it's a little bit-" she cut him off there.
"Gary. Listen to me, okay?" she said, not having any more time to waste on this, "I don't want to clip your wings, here. We're both a little over-excited. I got an issue. I'm chasing bad guys. I'm trying to grab a little something from some hard-crypt data files. I don't have enough juice. I need you to jump on the roof, right? Recalibrate the lSDNs. Pump it up by about 40%."
"Got it," he nodded, looking excited.
"All right? It's a mission," she said, hoping it would give him the motivation to act fast.
"Yeah," he breathed.
"Toni needs Gary," she told him firmly.
"And Gary needs Toni," he repeated, and she wanted to roll her eyes.
"Be quiet about it. Go," she said, as she sent him on his way.
"Yeah," he nodded, as he left the van. She only had to wait a few moments before she could hear him banging on the side. She knocked back before pulling up a Control Module and setting the IP address to and began overriding the admin access.
She pulled up a log in for the National Security Contractors, and filled it in with Rhodey's log in, laughing to herself slightly as she typed in his password.
And just like that, she had full access to the AIM Systems, firewalls down, and their full database of files.
She pulled up a video of Chad Davis, and watched the file labelled as Extremis Candidate. He talked about not letting his injuries beat him.
The next video, Brandt; the lady who attacked him in the bar. Yet part of her left arm was missing in the clip. And it hadn't been when she'd fought her.
And on the other side of the video?
Aldrich Killian.
Well wasn't that an interesting turn.
She pulled up another video of him talking to a group of people.
"Once misfits, cripples. You are the next iteration of human evolution," he spoke, and she pulled up another video.
"Everybody, before we start, I promise you, looking back at your life, there will be nothing as bitter as the memory of that glorious risk you prudently elected to forego. Today is your glory. Let's begin," He said in the video, as human subjects were strapped down, and injected with substances.
He watched as Brandt began to glow a bright orange, just as he'd seen her do.
Screams filled the screen, as one of the subjects burned too brightly and exploded.
"A bomb is not a bomb when it's a misfire," she said, answering the question she'd been asking since this had all started. Why there were no explosives at the sight of Happy's accident. Why there were only five shadows in Rose Hill. "The stuff doesn't always work. Right, pal? It's faulty, but you found a buyer, didn't you? Sold it to the Mandarin. Got you, pal."
The ride back to Malibu was long and exhausting. Seriously, this is why she had her own personal jet.
She liked driving as much as the next person, but she also liked reaching places at reasonable times, and honestly she didn't think that was too much to ask.
How was Steve Rogers fine with driving around the entire goddamn country on a motorcycle and not tired of it all?
She sighed, as she called the boy, wanting a status update, "Harley, tell me what's happening. Give me a full report."
"Yeah, I'm still eating that candy," he told her, and she stifled a laugh, "Do you want me to keep eating it?"
"How much have you had?" she asked.
"Two or three bowls," he admitted to her. She really wasn't cut out to be a parent was she if she was the reason why this kid had so much candy.
"Can you still see straight?" She questioned him curiously.
"Sort of," he said quickly.
"That means you're fine," she said with a roll of her eyes, "Give me JARVIS. JARVIS, how are we?"
"It's totally fine, Miss. I seem to do quite well for a stretch, and then at the end of the sentence I say the wrong cranberry," J said, sounding a bit off. "And, Miss, you were right. Once I factored in available AIM downlink facilities I was able to pinpoint the Mandarin's broadcast signal."
"What are we talking?" she asked, wondering if her suit would be fine enough to fly across the ocean. "Far East, Europe, North Africa, Iran, Pakistan, Syria? Where is it?"
"Actually, sir, it's in Miami," JARVIS told her.
Okay, so she supposed JARVIS might be a bit more broken than she thought.
"Okay, kid, I'm gonna have to walk you through rebooting JARVIS' speech drive, but not right now. Harley, where is he really? Just look on the screen and tell me where it is," She asked him carefully.
"Um, it does say Miami, Florida," the kid said a bit confused.
No fucking way.
She took a deep breath and made a list of all the things in her head she'd need to do to deal with all of this.
"Okay, first things first, I need the armour. Where are we at with it?" she asked the kid.
"Uh, it's not charging," he told her, and she slammed on the breaks, pulling over to the side of the road. What did he mean it wasn't charging?
She felt her breath begin to quicken. She couldn't do this without the suit, she needed the suit.
She was nothing without the Iron Woman armour.
"Actually, Miss, it is charging, but the power source is questionable. It may not succeed in revitalising the Mark 42," JARVIS responded
"What's questionable about electricity?" she demanded. "All right? It's my suit, and I can't. I'm not gonna. I don't wanna. Oh, Faraday, not again."
She opened the car door, needing air, needing not to be trapped in this tight car. She couldn't breathe. She felt the world around her grow dark, as she felt herself, off in space again. Surrounded by the Chitauri army. They were coming for her. They were coming for all of them.
"Toni? Are you having another attack?" Harley asked her softly, "I didn't even mention New York."
"Right, and then you just said it by name while denying having said it," her voice said shakily.
She could hear Harley sound unsure of what to do or say and she sunk to the ground.
"God, what am I gonna do?" she asked out.
She'd never been religious. Not as a woman of science.
But her mother had been. Her mother, who had loved her, who had cared for her when her father did not.
She felt so alone.
"Just breathe," Harley's voice came over the phone. "Really, just breathe. You're a mechanic, right?"
"Right," she said back shakily.
"You said so," he reminded her.
"Yes, I did," she said softly. "I am."
"Why don't you just build something?" he asked her, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
She had built the Mark I suit in a cave with nothing but scrap metals.
She had built every suit until then.
It was what she did.
She built.
She created.
And she made.
She was not nothing without Iron Woman.
Iron Woman was nothing without her.
"Okay," she said, voice steadying. She stood up then and got back in the car. "Thanks, kid."
She hung up the phone then; she had work to do.
She hit up the nearest hardware store, buying everything from an unquestionable amount of fertilizers, to bolt cutters, bug spray, ant control, and anything she could turn into a weapon.
She had built them for so long, and that didn't just go away.
Besides, The Mandarin had hurt her family, and now there would be hell to pay.
She got a cheap motel, one she could book with a minimal amount of cash, and she began to build everything she could think of, from electric gloves, tasers, stun guns, and makeshift grenades.
She would be ready.
And off she went to Miami.
She should have known this lunatic would live in some sort of castle. Talk about hating the American Dream when living it all along.
She took out a pair of binoculars and eyed up the people guarding the perimeter and nearly laughed at the minimal security.
Hopping the wall was easy enough, and she supposed once again, she owed her physical strength to her cousin and bodyguard.
She used the grappling hook to pull the first guy down the stairs, shot the second guy with a nail gun, and tazed the third guy.
Was it supposed to be this easy?
She threw one of her Christmas grenades at a pair of guards as it took out one and she shot the second one a few times, nearly laughing to herself.
This was like Home Alone but better.
The house itself looked like a drug den, with hungover models sprawled all over every surface.
"Why is it so hot in here? I told you to put it at 68," one of the girls complained.
"My fault again," one of the guards scoffed at her, "Let me tell you something, sweetheart. I am not your personal air con-"
She grabbed the back of his head with her electric glove and immobilized him as she shoved his face into the table. She picked up his gun and looked over at the girl.
The model looked like she didn't care, simply pointing which way Toni should go, and she nodded at her, raising a finger to show her to be quiet.
She moved into what looked like a tv room, with footage of the Mandarin's speeches on the screens. She moved quietly through the room, clearing it, as she took a look around.
And there, in the middle of the room, was a giant bed, the covers pulled high, as it looked like people were asleep in it.
She held her breath; was she actually about to find the Mandarin asleep in bed?
It couldn't be that easy, could it?
She pulled the covers down, aiming the gun at them.
And of course it wasn't that easy; in the bed lay two models cladded in lingerie. And while Toni liked to appreciate the finer things in life, it most certainly was not the time for that.
She heard the toilet flush, and she spun around quickly, aiming the gun in that direction.
"I wouldn't go in there for 20 minutes," she heard a man laugh, and she snuck behind a mirror, "Now, which one of you is Vanessa?"
"That's me," one of the girls said, looking unworried.
"Ah! Nessie. Did you know that fortune cookies aren't even Chinese?" he told her, losing the accent he'd had for all his videos, and yet somehow gaining a British one? "There's some guy over here. They're made by Americans, based on a Japanese recipe."
Was this guy for real?
She gave the man an incredulous look. This was the man who executed several people on television? Who was responsible for all the explosions?
There was no bloody way.
There was no way she was dealing with this any longer. She snuck out from behind the mirror and pointed the gun at the man, "Hey!"
"Bloody hell. Bloody hell," he said, looking a bit startled.
"Don't move," she told him firmly.
"I'm not moving. You want something? Take it. Although the guns are all fake because those wankers wouldn't trust me with the real ones," he told her
"What?" she asked, a bit confused.
"Hey, do you fancy either of the birds?" he asked her, pointing at the girls in his bed.
Edison help her. Maybe she could shoot him just for being annoying.
"Heard enough," she told him, putting the gun close to him. "You're not him. The Mandarin, the real guy. Where? Where's the Mandarin? Where is he?"
She all but shouted the last part, needing to know what this façade was.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. He's here. He's here, but he's not here. He's here, but he's not here," he said, running to take a seat.
Who did that when a gun was even pointed at them?
"What do you mean?" she demanded.
"It's complicated," he said. and she shot him a look. "Hey, it's complicated."
"It is?" she asked in disbelief.
"It's complicated," he told her again.
"Uncomplicate it," she deadpanned, "Ladies, out. Get out of the bed. Get into the bathroom. Sit."
She watched the two girls leave the room, complaining immediately about having to be in the bathroom, and she supposed whatever it was the man did in there must have been as bad of an explosion as he could pull off.
She turned to see him crawling away and she shot on the ground next to him. Guess those lessons with Aunt Peggy really paid off.
"My name is Trevor. Trevor Slattery," he told her.
"What are you? What are you, a decoy? You're a double, right?" she asked, trying to get her head around what was happening.
"What, you mean like an understudy?" he asked, a bit offended. "No, absolutely not."
She pointed the gun back at his face and he winced.
"Don't hurt the face! I'm an actor," he tried to explain to her. "It's just a role. 'The Mandarin', see, it's not real."
"Then how did you get here, Trevor?" she asked him pointedly.
"Well, I, um, had a little problem with, um, substances. And I ended up doing things, no two ways about it, in the street, that a man shouldn't do," he tried to justify. Like she didn't know what it was like to have a substance abuse problem. And yet she was still standing here wasn't she? CEO of Stark Industries. Iron Woman.
"Next?" she asked, growing more annoyed with the man with each passing moment.
"Then, they approached me about the role, and they knew about the drugs," he told her.
"What did they say? They'd get you off them?" she asked, unsure of what she was expecting. Because maybe they did offer to help.
"They said they'd give me more. They gave me things. They gave me this palace. They gave me plastic surgery. They gave me things," he told her, closing his eyes.
And then he started snoring.
She might shoot him just because she could.
"Did you just nod off? Hey," she said, kicking him with her shoe.
"No, and a lovely speedboat. And the thing was, he needed someone to take credit for some accidental explosions," the man explained to her, as he mimicked an explosion with his hands.
"He?" she questioned. "Killian?"
"Killian," the man confirmed.
She exhaled then, and suddenly everything was making a lot more sense to her. There was no Mandarin. There never was. There was only Aldrich Killian.
"He created you?" she asked him.
"He created me," he confirmed again, agreeing with what she was saying.
"Custom-made terror threat," she let out a sigh. And the world was eating it up. Letting him get away with faulty science experiments. On human experiments. All the while blaming some terrorist, when the real threat was closer to home all along.
"Yes. Yes. His think tank thinked it up," Slattery said excitedly. And suddenly, the accent returned, "The pathology of a serial killer. The manipulation of Western iconography. Ready for another lesson?"
He dropped it then, turning back to face her, offering her a beer, which she waved away, "Blah, blah, blah. Of course, it was my performance that brought the Mandarin to life."
She wanted to throw something at him, "Your performance? Where people died?"
"No, they didn't. Look around you. The costumes, green screen. Honestly, I wasn't on location for half this stuff. And when I was, it was movie magic, Love."
Movie magic?
Happy getting hurt was just 'Movie Magic'?
No fucking way.
"I'm sorry, but I got a best friend who's in a coma and he might not wake up. So you're gonna have to answer for that. You're still going down, pal. You under-"
She cut herself off, as Trevor Slattery's eyes widened.
She tried to turn around quickly, but the next thing she knew a fist was in her face.
When she woke up, she was tied up, and the part of her that never properly reacted to issues wanted to make some sort of kinky joke.
But now was not the time.
"Okay," she said, as she looked around the room.
Only to see Maya Hansen looking at her.
"just like old times, huh?" she said with a smile
"Oh, yeah. With zip ties. It's a ball," Toni said, plastering a press smile on her face.
"It wasn't my idea," Hansen simply shrugged.
"Okay. So you took Killian's card," Toni said, wondering how she'd missed the Botanist's obvious betrayal.
"I took his money," Hansen nodded in agreement.
"And here you are 13 years later, in a dungeon," Toni said with a sarcastic laugh.
"No," Hansen denied.
"Uh, yeah you are," Toni shot back.
"No, you're in a dungeon. I'm free to go," Hansen gave her a simple shrug.
"Yeah," she said with a sigh.
"A lot has happened, Toni," Hansen told her softly, "But I'm close. EXTREMIS is practically stabilised."
Stabilized?
Is that what she would call the people turning orange and blowing up.
Sure.
"I'm telling you it isn't," Toni laughed. "I'm on the street. People are going bang. They're painting the walls. Maya, you're kidding yourself."
"Then help me fix it," Hansen urged her, holding up her name tag from that night. Bern. 1999. The night of the New Years Eve Conference. And she turned it around to see a simple calculation on the back.
When she and Hansen had science'd while she was wasted.
She really needed to stop doing that.
"Did I do that?" she breathed.
"Yes," Hansen confirmed
"I remember the night, not the morning," Toni told her. "Is this what you've been chasing around?"
"You don't remember?" she said, sounding hurt.
Huh.
Usually people got mad at her for not remembering she'd had sex with them.
Not because she forgot that they did math together.
"I can't help you," Toni told her gently. "You used to have a moral psychology. You used to have ideals. You wanted to help people. Now look at you. I get to wake up every morning with someone who till has their soul. Get me out of here. Come on."
"You know what my old man used to say to me? One of his favourite of many sayings: 'The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.'" Killian told her, looking chirper.
"You're not still pissed off about the Switzerland thing, are you?" she asked, wanting to punch the man in the face. She should have trusted Happy more when he told her Killian was up to no good.
"How can I be pissed at you, Toni? I'm here to thank you. You gave me the greatest gift that anybody's ever given me. Desperation. If you think back to Switzerland, you said you'd meet me on the rooftop, right? Well, for the first 20 minutes, I actually thought you'd show up. And the next hour, I considered taking that one-step shortcut to the lobby. If you know what I mean," he told her.
"Honestly, I'm still trying to figure out what happened to the first mouse," she said, ignoring him altogether. "If the entire point of this story is to tell me that you're doing all of this because I ignored you, then sorry to tell you pal, you're a lunatic. You're not entitled to my time simply because you think you deserve it. That's not how this works, not even close, Killian. I don't need to just hand it to you. Not when you've done nothing to earn my respect. That's not how the world works. And if you think anyone, women, men, children, ecetra, should bend over backwards to meet your needs, then that's where you're wrong. So you can stop blowing up people now. Because I have the moral high ground here, not you."
He ignored her, because of course he did. It was like he didn't even hear a single word she said, as he continued to monologue
"But as I looked out over that city, nobody knew I was there, nobody could see me, no one was even looking. I had a thought that would guide me for years to come. Anonymity, Toni. Thanks to you, it's been my mantra ever since. Right? You simply rule from behind the scenes. Because the second you give evil a face, a bin Laden, a Gaddafi, a Mandarin, you hand the people a target."
"You're something else," she told him exasperatedly, meeting his gaze. "You're worse than those terrorists. Worse because at least they believe their ideals, as fucked up as they are. You just want to exploit the same hatred to make a profit."
"You have met him, I assume?" Killian asked, opening a brief case.
"Yes. Sir Laurence Oblivier," she said, utterly unimpressed.
"I know he's a little over the top sometimes. It's not entirely my fault," Killian shrugged. "He has a tendency. He's a stage actor. They say his Lear was the toast of Croydon, wherever that is. Anyway, the point is, ever since that big dude with the hammer fell out of the sky, subtlety has kind of had its day."
Why was everyone blaming Thor for making weapons?
She'd met the man, and really, he was nothing but a giant sweetheart.
It would devastate him to know he was the reason villains were using to justify their actions.
"What's next for you in your world?" she asked, wondering if she could find out his master plan.
"Well, I wanted to repay you the selfsame gift that you so graciously imparted to me," he told her and she hid her panic. He pulled up a hologram then, of Pepper, strapped to a chair. She wanted to scream, wondering if her friend was doing okay. Goddammit she should have sent someone to check in on her, the moment she knew Killian was remotely connected to this.
She could see Pepper glowing that same dangerous orange, and she sent up a prayer, that Pepper would be okay. That she wouldn't end up the same way so many others connected to the experiments tended to go.
"Desperation. Now, this is live. I'm not sure if you can tell, but at this moment the body is trying to decide whether to accept EXTREMIS or just give up. And if it gives up, I have to say, the detonation is quite spectacular. But until that point, it's really just a lot of pain."
He stood up then, coming closer to her until he was inches from her face.
"We haven't even talked salary yet," he grabbed her neck, his breath on her skin. "What kind of perk package are you thinking of?"
"Let him go," Hansen said, looking irritated.
"Hold on, hold on," he said, as he caressed Toni's face. She would have spat at him if the hand on her neck wasn't choking her.
"I said, let him go," Hansen shouted, and he turned around to see her with a injection device up to her neck
"What are you doing?" he asked her, sounding stunned. Either this was well rehearsed, or there was some discord in their partnership
"1200 CCs," she threatened. "A dose half of this size, I'm dead."
"It's times like this my temper is tested somewhat," he said, sounding exhausted. "Maya, give me the injector."
"If I die, Killian, what happens to your soldiers? What happens to your product?" she told him, eyes watering.
"We're not doing this, okay?" he told her firmly.
"What happens to you?" she asked. "What happens if you go too hot?"
He turned around, meeting Toni's gaze, as he raised his arm and pointed the gun at Hansen.
Only to shoot her right in the stomach.
Well, she was probably in trouble
"The good news is, a high-level position has just been vacated," Killian said, without looking slightly offput.
"You are a maniac," she spat in his face.
"No, I'm a visionary," he countered. "But I do own a maniac. And he takes the stage tonight."
He turned then, leaving her behind in the room, with two guards to watch her.
She wondered if she could just get out of the zip ties somehow. Then she'd be free.
Her watch began beeping then, sitting on the counter, and she nearly grinned. One of the guards picked it up and she gave him a warning look.
"Careful, there. It's a limited edition," she told him firmly. He began to shake it. "Hey, uh, Ponytail Express. What's the mileage count between Tennessee and Miami?"
"832 miles," he answered her quickly and she shot him an impressed look.
"Very nice," she admired.
"I'm good like that," he said, taking the compliment, and as the beeping continued, he pointed to the watch with his gun. "Can you, uh, stop that?"
"Break it, you bought it," she warned them. The man met her eyes, dropped the watch, and stomped on it.
Oh they were going down.
"I think I bought it," he gave her a smug look.
"Okay, that wasn't mine to give away," she said, unimpressed. "That belongs to my friend's sister. And that's why I'm gonna kill you first."
"What are you gonna do to me?" he taunted her.
"You'll see," she said quickly.
"You're zip-tied to a bed," he deadpanned.
"This," she said raising her arms. And when nothing happened, "That."
Ugh she hated delayed responses. She'd have to work on that.
"Trust me, you're gonna be in a puddle of blood on the ground in five, four, three; come on! Two," she tried.
Where was her suit?
Why was this taking so long.
"How did we get this shift?" the shorthaired man looked done with her. Well, she was just as done with him too.
"All right," she warned them. "I'm gonna give you a chance to escape. Put down your weapons. Tie yourselves to those chairs. I'll let you live. In five, four, bang!"
The two of them looked at her utterly unimpressed and she sighed internally.
It was hard to be intimidating when things weren't working.
"You should be gone by now. You should've already been gone," she said seriously.
"I am just beyond terrified," the long-haired man said, still pointing the gun at her.
"Here it comes. Three, four," she started again.
"Shut up," the man told her again.
"Five, four, three, two, one!" she said quickly as something broke the glass then.
She shot them a smirk, as her hand piece hit the man in the head and attached itself to her wrist, "Told you."
She shot the shorter haired man with her repulsor, as the bed frame she was on span around. She used the armour to break herself out of the zip ties, as the man with the gun game for her again. She hit him on the head with the part of the armour she had, as the foot piece came in then, and attached itself to her.
She raised the gun in their direction as she looked upwards.
"Where's the rest?" she wondered, as she could see more men coming into the room. She shot them with a mixture of her armour and the gun, before using the one thrustor she had to shoot herself up in the air. She tried to take out as many men as she could before the gun she had ran out of ammo.
She was still outnumbered, and without the rest of the suit, she was still very vulnerable to their bullets.
She knew she'd have to be careful, and she maneuvered around the room with the parts of the suit she did have with ease, dodging their shots.
Until there was just one man left.
She pointed her gun at him.
"Honestly, I hate working here. They are so weird," he told her as he dropped the gun and backed out of the room.
She could respect that.
She ran through the halls, trying to leave the dungeon, as the rest of the suit slowly came and attached itself to her.
"Ah! Better late than never," she said, as she waited just for her faceplate to arrive. But she wouldn't let it go the same way as it did before. "Not this time. Not the face."
She held her hand out, catching the mask as she carefully put it on.
"Phew! It's good to be back. Hi, Baby," she said, greeting her soon.
"Hello, Miss," JARVIS said, "I am glad to see you are still doing well.
A Helicopter flew above, and she knew it was just beginning. She looked up and saw the War Machine armour flying above.
Well, that couldn't be good.
"Let's go!" She said, trying to power up her thrusters.
Only for them not to work.
Well, that was great.
She hobbled down the stairs, as she placed a call to her Honey Bear.
"Toni," he said, picking up instantly.
"Tell me that's you in the suit," she asked him, even know she knew the answer already.
"No," he confirmed, and she swore, "You got yours?"
"Uh," she said, "Kind of. Main house, as fast as you can. There's somebody I'd like you to meet."
She walked into the room, holding up a ping pong battle as the two men aimed guns at her. Only for Rhodey to burst through the window and take them out.
Without a suit.
How did he manage to always look so much cooler doing everything?
"What have you come as?" Slattery asked, looking interested.
"You make a move, and I break your face," Rhodey pointed a gun at him.
"I never thought people had been hurt. They lied to me," Slattery said, looking pitiful.
"This is the Mandarin?" Rhodey said with the same exasperation she'd had earlier.
"Yeah, I know, it's embarrassing," she said, just as annoyed as he was.
"Hi, Trevor. Trevor Slattery," he said, trying to stick his hand out for a shake, as Rhodey slapped it away. "I know I'm shorter in person. A bit smaller. Everyone says that. But, um, hey, if you're here to arrest me, there's some people I'd like to roll on."
"Here's how it works, Meryl Streep," she said firmly, "You tell him where Pepper is, and he'll stop doing it."
"Doing what?" The Mandarin asked, confused.
Rhodey leaned down and burned him with a weapon he'd concealed, "Ow," he whined, "That hurt. I get it! I get it! I don't know about any Pepper, but I know about the plan."
"Spill," she told him.
"Do you know what they did to my suit?" Rhodey wanted to know.
"What? No," Slattery brushed him off. "But I do know it's happening off the coast. Something to do with a big boat. I can take you there."
He screamed then, as a goal on the tv behind them had been shot in. "Ole', ole', ole', ole'"
"Toni, I swear to God, I'm gonna blow his face off," Rhodey warned her.
"Oh, and this next bit may include the vice president as well. "Is that important?"
"Somewhat," she shrugged, like it meant nothing in the world.
She probably would be the one to shoot the man.
"Yeah, a little bit," Rhodey said sarcastically.
"So?" she said, turning to him.
"What are we going do? I mean, we don't have any transport," he reminded her.
"Hey, Ringo. Didn't you say something about a 'lovely speedboat'?" she asked, turning to the man their country had united against.
They had a Pepper to go find.
