Alas, Tony and Rhody reach the docks at noon.
Rhody was fairly concerned about how they would go about this, and Tony refused to share a valuable piece of information with the non-the-wiser Rhodes, until the time was right.
The last thing the Stark would do was go in, this unprepared.
As the two snuck their way in unseen, they hide behind a set of crates.
Rhody peers out. "He's strung up over the oil tanker. They're gonna light him up, man!" Rhody exclaims quietly, referring to the president held helpless in the immobile Iron Patriot suit.
"Viking funeral. Public execution," Tony states grimly.
"Yeah. Death by oil."
They move out once more, rushing up a set of stairs. "Broadcast will commence shortly. Take final positions," they hear through mega-phones.
They tense.
Rhodes moves in army stance. "Is your gun up?" he asks Tony, eyes fixated forward like a targeting-machine. Tony quickly pulls his gun up, pretending he'd been doing so the whole time.
"Yep," he tells firmly. "What do I do?" he asks his well-trained friend.
"Stay on my six. Cover high, and don't shoot me in the back."
"Six? High? Back? Alright."
Immediately, shots fire from above, where the Stark was supposed to be aimed. The two rush for cover as Stark attempts to take the assailant down, drastically missing and using up all his bullets.
He really didn't like guns. Where was a targeting system when you needed one?
They crouch down. "You see that? Nailed it," Tony smirks sarcastically.
"Yeah, you really killed the glass," James retorts tiredly.
"You think I was aiming for the bulb? You can't hit a bulb at this distance."
Rhody rises out of cover, successfully shooting the bulb. He falls back down and glares at the Stark.
"All personal, we have hostiles on east unit twelve," they hear.
Rhody sighs tiredly and Tony checks his gun. "I'm out," he says irritably.
Never ran out of ammo in his suit.
He turns to Rhody. "Gimme…gimme…you got extra magazines?"
"They're not universal, Tony!" he says as if speaking to a child. Tony glares at him irritably.
Brie would have been nicer.
"I know what I'm doing! I make this stuff! Give me another one! One of yours." he demands tiredly.
"I don't have one that fits that gun!"
"You've got, like, five of them!...Okay. Here's what I'm gonna do. Save my spot," he says, rising. "Ready?"
Tony jumps up then down again. "What'd you see?"
"Too fast. Nothing," he replies nonchalantly. Rhody debates chocking him. "Here we go," he rises again. "Three guys. One girl. All armed," he says alas.
The two friends rise to face the danger. There were too many.
Too many.
"God, I'd kill for some armor right now," Rhody breathes, covering up his fear.
"You're right. We need backup," Tony replies mischievously.
"Yeah, a bunch," Rhody retorts, still clueless.
"You know what?" Tony starts. Rhody turns to him.
The Stark points a look at the distance, what seemed like a moving star. Moving towards them.
"Is…is that?" Rhody starts.
"Yep."
Another appears. Then another.
"Are those?"
"Yeah."
One after the other, they came. Dozens of Iron Man suits.
The House Party Protocol.
Rhody stands, eyes wide and mouth agape.
Tony pats his shoulder. "Merry Christmas, buddy," he grins.
XXXXX
Trice sits on an armchair, her unconscious sister across her on one of the beds in the hotel room.
She has her throbbing head in her hands, all sorts of 'what if's roaming about.
What if they can't kill Killian?
What if he comes back, and takes her sister this time, or her again?
What if he doesn't stop?
What if?
What if?
A sharp gasp for air shakes Trice out of her seat. She looks to see her sister, sitting up, frantically breathing on the bed, a wild look in her slightly glowing eyes.
Trice jolts out of her seat to her. "Shh. It's okay. I'm here," she tells, settling next to her.
"T-Tony. Where is he?" the Smith asks in haste. Trice hesitates.
"He…He went after Killian," she replies.
Brie turns to her sibling, noting exactly what had happened. She glares at her heatedly, then rises from her seat.
She heads for the door. "Brie! Where are you going?!" Trice asks in shock.
"I'm going after him," she replies.
"Are you insane?!"
Brie opens the door and rushes out the hall.
"Brie!" her sister calls after her.
Trice rushes and pulls Brie by the arm. "Please don't do this!" she utters, tears breaming her terrified eyes.
But Brie couldn't.
She couldn't sit back.
She couldn't sit, knowing she could fight.
It wasn't his battle alone; it was hers too.
It wasn't fair for him to risk his life, while she hid soundly aside.
It would not be this way.
"Get inside. Lock the door. Wait for my call," Brie tells, storming off once more.
Trice gasps at the sight of her unstoppable departure, covering her mouth with her hands as tears streamed down her face.
XXXXX
Tony groans in excruciating pain as a shirtless, tattooed, flame-lit Killian weighed all he had on Tony's suit-arm.
Killian pushed Tony back onto the rails, bringing an arm down like an axe about to cut through the whole suit, just before Tony dropped out its back, fell over the rail, and harshly onto his back. Killian jumps down after him.
All around, chaos arose,
like an inferno,
bursts of flame from every sight, be it an Extremis bearer, or a suit.
Rhodes had been tasked with saving the president, while Tony declared the capability of taking Aldrich down.
Easier said than done.
Before being able to get to his feet, Killian grasped him by the throat, pinning him to the floor.
Fear quickly rises in Tony's chest, as well as hard-working adrenaline, scouring for a way out.
One of Tony's Jarvis-controlled suits comes to his rescue, charging at Killian and vigorously shoving him off the Stark.
Tony scuttles up as Killian ripped the suit to shreds, targeting the Stark once more.
Tony stands bravely, determination in his eyes, and wariness in his chest.
Killian smirks.
But then,
a motorcycle,
of all things, flies straight into Killian's form, throwing him to the opposite side of the site.
Tony looks in bewilderment to see Brie, glowing as fiercely as Aldrich was, hair a mess and clothes in shreds.
She locks eyes with the Stark. "Still think I shouldn't be here?" she smirks. He grins, clenching his side in pain.
"I've never been happier to be wrong, angel," he says. She grins back.
Killian shoves the motorcycle off of himself and hastes to his feet in rage.
Seeing Brie, he smirks.
"I knew I should've kept you around," he says. Tony glares daggers at him.
"This is the last time you mess with my people, Killian," she spits threateningly, charging at him.
"Jarvis, I need a suit!" Tony calls.
"Yes, sir."
Brie shoots a punch at Killian's face. It hits.
Unlike most of his men, he wasn't army-trained. The only thing he was, was a version better of the Extremis than the others.
She knees him in the stomach. He bends in pain. She tries another punch.
Using his heightened reflex, he grasps her fist, twisting it cruelly, only to get his jaw broken by the Iron Man beside him!
Killian stumbles back. He looks up to see both Tony and Brie stomping towards him like wild dogs, as his jaw healed.
A deadly battle rises between the three.
Shooting.
Punching.
Kicking.
Twisting.
Melting.
Painful!
You name it, it's there.
Killian proved to be quite the challenge, but they were gaining on him.
A zooming sound from beside them catches their attention. It was the old suit, the one that had been crushed by a truck, all huddled roughly back together, headed protectively towards its owner.
Knowing exactly what to do, Tony aims the suit at Killian himself.
Feeling under threat, Aldrich charges at Tony, only to be shoved back by Brie as the suit flew and clasped onto him.
"Jarvis…
blow up Mark forty-two,"
Tony says.
"NOOO-" the mask shuts Killian up.
Tony grasps Brie by the waist, and rockets away just as the explosion went off,
blowing Aldrich to oblivion,
once and for all.
XXXXXXXXXX