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Wakandan border,
Eric Stevens slipped through the jungle, feeling a mix of anticipation and seething anger.
Wakanda…
His heritage… All ruined, unattainable now, with the entire world bearing down on Wakanda like locusts, ready to pick its corpse clean.
His revenge however… That was still on the table. He felt his insides burn and he smirked viciously, embracing the burn, the fire within - his trump card.
Justin Hammer had somehow found out about his connection to Wakanda, Eric didn't know how, honestly he didn't really care. What was important, was that the foolish white playboy had decided to empower Eric.
To use him as his hidden dagger into the heart of Wakanda. Which suited Eric just fine, for now - but Hammer had another thing coming if he thought Eric really worked for him.
He was his own man, he was no one's slave.
Oh, it had burned so painfully yet heavenly, the treatment meant to make him superhuman. Like liquid fire moving through his veins, killing him, scorching him clean, burning away all of what made Eric, Eric - birthing something new, something better.
Something that would help catapult him to the top of the world, to stand at the apex.
Extremis, Doc Hansen had called it, looking proud and excited, even as she strapped him in, telling him all about the risks, how he could become a ticking bomb if he wasn't careful. How most test subjects didn't survive long after the process, telling him she had a good feeling about him however, she recognized a fighter. A survivor.
He didn't like eggheads in general, but Doc Hansen was alright.
Eric knew he could handle it. He wasn't like anyone else, and he'd proven it, taking the treatment like a champ, coming out stronger than a super soldier. Wakanda had the Black Panther, the mantle they were so proud of - it would face a Dragon birthed in flames - and would be found wanting… Eric felt the flame burning within him pulse, waiting to be unleashed. Soon, he promised…
It's a pity Domino appeared loyal to Hammer, their short liaison had really been something. For such an easy going girl, she was a whole pack of wild animals between the sheets.
The sounds of screaming men, the explosions of artillery fire, the cacophony of a battlefield greeted him as he neared the end of this stretch of the jungle. As he'd been briefed, most of the jungle that had been closest to the ideal positions for artillery strikes, had been cleared off when it became obvious Wakanda did either not possess similar artillery capabilities - or couldn't use them through the shield.
He settled just within the embrace of the jungle, right at the edge, watching, spotting the large artillery pieces defended by African militia men mixed in with actual military professionals, the large war machines still firing even as men died in droves around it.
Eric smiled in satisfaction, uncaring of the death and destruction, feeling right at home. Going straight for the shield would risk being blown to bits in an artillery strike. Hammer's people had warned him that even Extremis wouldn't likely help him survive that.
So he'd need to find another way in, and who better to ask than the Wakandan strike teams that regularly left the shield to strike at the artillery teams and their supply lines - they themselves passed through the shield without dying, somehow. They could share that passage with Eric. One way or another.
With the amount of artillery fire raining down on Wakanda's capital at all hours, it was a secret Eric needed if he was going to manage his task. Either that or run into one of their stealth ships and take it over for himself, which was extremely unlikely to happen.
For whatever reason, Wakanda seemed to be holding the rest of their air fleet back.
His eyes narrowed as he saw two men vaulting over the defensive line, tearing through the lightly armored men defending the site. Black Panthers…. He thought, feeling that familiar battle lust rear its head.
The desire to meet them in battle, overcome them, prove his superiority.
Not just yet… He told himself, raising his assault rifle, stepping out into the open, behind the African militias, opening fire on them with pinpoint precision - killing dozens of men with ease.
The militia and the few professionals still alive from the militaries of some small African nation - were not the US armed forces, and they were being slammed by Wakandan special forces, two super soldiers, and now a flanking maneuver that for all they knew held a dozen more Wakandans other than Eric.
They broke.
Eric gave no mercy as he fired continuously at the fleeing men, joining in with the Wakandans who grimly set to the same task, some of the force splitting off to set charges to the artillery pieces.
The two Black Panthers approached him, neither one of them in the signature armor he'd been told about by his father. New then, part of their last gasp defense, Eric thought with vitriol. Too little, too late, Wakanda…
"What is your purpose, outsider?" The one on the left, a stocky man with only one eye, said harshly.
Eric dropped his rifle, to show that he wasn't here for a fight, an easygoing grin on his face, "Just out for a stroll in the neighborhood." He said easily.
"Just kill him, it's just a trick to get inside the shield." The other Black Panther said dismissively, the mountain of a man scoffing in disgust before turning away.
You'll be the first one I take down later.. Eric thought, eyes narrowed on the man. Before his partner could make this into a fight that would necessitate killing this group and finding another, Eric reached for his lip, "I am N'Jadaka son of Prince N'Jobu, returned in our country's darkest hour." He proclaimed loudly, drawing attention from the non enhanced Wakandans.
"You lie!" The large man hissed, turning back towards Eric with clenched fists, "You expect us to fall for this?" He laughed mockingly, "We are not fools, outsider!"
Eric pulled on his lip, showing proof of his heritage, silencing the man.
"This… Changes things…" He said reluctantly, "... Welcome home…" He turned and began barking orders to the rest of the force, leaving Eric with the other Black Panther.
Eric noticed he was not yet called Prince, nor was he treated with any reverence - they didn't fully believe yet. That was fine, as long as they believed he was Wakandan and let him inside the shield.
The sooner he saw his dear uncle the better…
The sooner he brought down the shield…
He'd be the world's biggest hero in one strike.
Soon Killmonger would be mentioned in the same breath as Captain America.
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Private Jet - enroute to Rome,
Justin downed another glass of whiskey, fingers clamped tightly around the glass as he sat on the couch, with the lights dimmed to the lowest setting to suit his dark mood, his suit jacket tossed carelessly over an armchair across from him, his tie undone.
Rarely did he ever look as untidy as he did right now.
He almost reached for the bottle of whiskey again, until he noticed that it was half empty, and tossed the glass against the wall with a snarl instead, the shattering glass exploding over the rich, cream coloured carpet. I will not become a god damn pathetic alcoholic, like fucking Tony Stark!
He would not drown his sorrows in a damn bottle, he was not that much of a fool, he couldn't afford to be, now that he'd changed the world, its existence hinged on him!
He'd sent Domino into the pilots cabin, his mood darkening for every minute they were in the air - and the mercenary's perpetually flippant mood did not sit well with him - not as he was at the moment.
He'd known when he started on this path… Had known that it would be immensely difficult - had relished the challenge, really.
How could one not relish the climb to the very top? To crave the absolutely divine pleasure in looking down and seeing all one's rivals beneath them.
Yet… He'd expected the likes of Tony Stark to be his rival, his white whale - or as he was attempting to make reality… For Justin to be Tony's white whale… Not all these threats that just kept crawling out of the woodwork to impede his work.
To frustrate and delay and even just exist in the periphery, forcing Justin to deal with them or risk interference at a critical juncture.
Perhaps Vision had been right in what he'd said in the Civil War… Strength invites challenge - challenge incites conflict and conflict breeds catastrophe.
There've been some nice catastrophes lately…
He was still on point to become the undisputed champion of Earth, the industrial leader none could match, but the unknown variables that continued to manifest - were making him weary. One man could only do so much, and although he delegated a lot, it still left way too many threats then he was comfortable with.
He needed more power… Regeneration was good, but his survivability had never seemed lower than when he now pondered the threats out there. Those closer to home than he had previously realized - his thoughts too occupied by alien invasions.
He almost reflexively reached for the half empty whiskey bottle, catching himself at the last moment, his face twisting in loathing. This? This is what I fall to just because of a setback? This pity party?
He growled as he swiped the whiskey bottle off the table with force, breathing heavily, his glasses askew on his nose as he watched the liquid seeping through the carpet. "I. Will. Not. Be. Weak!" He said out loud, punctuating each word.
That infernal meeting… It laid bare how he was still not powerful enough…
He'd worked too hard to come out on top to falter now, he could have sat back with his fortune and had an easy life until the snap - he'd chosen to work 16-20 hour days to revolutionize the world instead. And everyone kept getting in the fucking way!
It was just too much at once… This whole Wakanda mess, as beneficial as some of it was to him personally - it was still a huge mess for him to deal with… Then there was dealing with Hank fucking Pym in regards to the Suez… He leaned back on the couch, rubbing his face, uncaring of the drops of whiskey still on his hands. Couldn't forget the whole HYDRA shit either, with the World Security Council and the missing nuclear capable aircraft carrier added on top of the pile… And who can forget the threat of Magneto… Especially with fucking Mystique caught infiltrating his business again!
What the fuck was he supposed to do with Mystique? He thought with irritation. He couldn't recruit her, not as things stood right now, he couldn't kill her, and he couldn't keep her prisoner indefinitely.
He didn't need a jailbreak from Magneto right now…
And all of that, continuously going on and complicating his operations and future plans - didn't even begin to touch on the problematic truths he'd faced in Switzerland.
Emma Frost was a god damn Xavier lite - a telepath capable of mind raping his entire operation. Only by pure luck of having met Xavier shortly before her, did he have any protection from her taking everything from his mind. She was also a business rival that obviously had no problems with lethal resolutions to conflict, if he was correct about her murdering her father.
Then there was Osborn who was obviously spiraling, the man obviously doing something ill-advised, if his dwindling sanity was that obvious to his fellow billionaires - and he would likely become a problem sooner rather than later. Like this world needed the Green Goblin to further make a mess in the current situation, he thought acerbically.
And as much as all of those things added to the levels of his stress and would probably have given him blood pressure issues without Extremis… Xu Wenwu was much more problematic.
Because he was someone Justin couldn't, as of yet, touch. Not after what he'd found out.
The ten rings he wore so proudly, rings that were obviously either magical or very advanced tech - led him to believe he was seeing the Mandarin in the flesh - the real one. That in itself wasn't too bad, necessarily. He'd only ever seen the fake one in the MCU but knew he was supposed to be involved with the Ten Rings.
An obvious conclusion to draw considering the ten rings on the man's arms. He rubbed his eyes, pushing his glasses out of the way briefly. Does this change Afghanistan? Was the question that most bothered him.
If the Ten Rings in Afghanistan were operating under The Mandarins orders, it was unlikely the situation would end the same way. For all he knew, Tony was dead. He didn't know enough about this man, his operations - or more importantly what he wanted.
It seemed that no matter what he'd planned… He'd have to send his team to spring Tony early - if he could find him.
It was unfortunate that he didn't have the information on this version, the same information that he had been so lucky to have for most of what he dealt with - especially for most threats. Would the Mandarin allow some fakes to operate under his organization's name in Afghanistan? For what purpose? He wasn't sure, and it unsettled him.
He'd been suspicious at the casual display of power underneath the streets of Bern. No one called together a group, such as what met under Universal Bank, on a whim. No one could - unless they have serious power or backing.
So he'd called Bakshi before he got to London, requesting information, sending him out for him to shake his HYDRA contacts tree - and see what fell loose.
He'd received the information too quickly. HYDRA was apparently all too willing to slip the information through the few - what was supposed to be secret - avenues Bakshi was still utilizing. At least they'd now confirmed Bakshi could not trust those moles any longer, HYDRA obviously knew about them.
The information had not been good for Justin's mental health, hence his current agitation.
The Mandarin was apparently immortal, or at least old enough it was essentially the same thing, and he was also behind why you didn't hear much about Asian crime or terrorist groups (excepting the Ten Rings) Because the Mandarin was Asia. Wherever you'd look, from Japan to the Philippines to China to Korea to even India…
Even that shithole Madripoor belonged to him.
The Mandarin had ironclad control over the underworld all over Asia. And with that kind of control - he surely also have a vast network in legal circles as well, even if it was hard to prove through proxy families that could go back generations. He likely had hundreds of politicians in his pockets - if not outright owning some of the countries involved. He'd had hundreds of years to get his hooks in everything.
According to the information Bakshi had forwarded, the Mandarin had almost completely eradicated some other Asian organization called the Hand, driving them out of his territories - the group barely surviving in an enclave or two in the western world, HYDRA sometimes utilizing the small surviving cadre for contract work.
HYDRA avoided tangling with the Mandarin. An organization that hid in the shadows just like them had been torn out of the earth by the roots and practically eradicated by the Mandarin… And from what Bakshi could figure out, HYDRA wanted Justin to know - and wanted him to not poke the bear.
HYDRA, the Nazi nutjobs that had infiltrated SHIELD and attempted to control the world from behind the thrones, were scared of tangling with Wenwu. They didn't say that, of course, but it's certainly what Justin took from it.
As far as they knew, the Mandarin wasn't even aware of HYDRA's existence, and still they avoided him, leery of gaining his attention.
Justin snorted angrily to himself, not at all pleased with their casual use of their moles to pass along information, or their intent in being so eager and accommodating - Pierce's work no doubt - trying to recruit him most likely.
They were also trying to warn him, which he begrudgingly accepted - a war between himself and the Mandarin would dangerously destabilize Earth, completely opposite of his intentions for the future.
The Mandarin was a potential problem for him. Someone with that much power across Asia… Should he stand against Justin - his business would falter as almost half of the world's population resided under the Mandarins aegis. He also faced the problem of likely needing to appease the fucking terrorist to get what he wanted.
What Justin wanted for Africa… The Mandarin already had across Asia - albeit with less spread of miraculous technology at its core - as the man had achieved this over centuries instead.
No wonder he'd called a meeting of some of the top industrialists in the world… He literally had that power. Justin had come to the meeting out of curiosity more than anything, but it ground his gears that he knew now, that if another meeting was called - he would have to go.
He could not afford not to. And it burned inside him, to find someone, maybe not an enemy, but a rival still - that could be such a threat to him.
That could summon him!
"Do you need anything, Mister Hammer?" Elena said carefully, stepping around the shattered glass, her face showing not a hint of judgment nor compassion, just professionalism.
Unlike Domino, she hadn't been sent away, he'd forgotten she was there, tucked into a corner at the front as she was - constantly working and familiarizing herself with her job and his companies.
Justin slumped, feeling tired and aggrieved, waving at her without care, "No, just brooding, just go… Somewhere else, Elena." He said, dismissively.
Elena cocked her head slightly, smoothing out her skirt as she leaned against the arm of the nearest armchair, signaling her intent to stay. "Venting out the poison might do you better, sir." She suggested calmly, "That or a few rounds, I could find some boxing gloves as soon as we land if you'd like?" there was an impish quality to her lips, even as she kept an impassive face.
Justin gave her a dark look, "I don't usually appreciate my employees ignoring my orders." He warned, some bite to his voice. He'd also seen her move, and felt her muscles very intimately - he didn't think a boxing match between them would end well for him.
Elena smiled mirthlessly, raising a challenging eyebrow, "No, Mister Hammer, but you do prefer them to have agency and to act on situations as they come up. Right now, you are in a situation - I am here to listen, to offer advice even, if you'd like."
God this woman was cool as a cucumber… Justin thought bitterly, nothing affects her…
Justin scoffed at her words after a moment as he realized he'd been silent too long. He didn't feel like biting her head off, she hadn't done anything to deserve that, and he didn't want to go back to his former habits of losing personnel due to reverting to an acrimonious personality and taking out his stress on the wage slaves.
So he explained the situation in vague terms to his personal assistant - she was a bit too new to drop an magical ring wielding, immortal, terrorist organization leading asshole, into the mix of worries for her.
How would one tell someone that at minimum 2 billion people, essentially served one man, even if they didn't know about it. The asshole was like Justin, like he meant to be, just slower at his work and with spiffy and stupid magic rings…
He was not jealous, that is not what this was, he was just stressed, facing too many problems at once - that is all.
Elena listened calmly as he explained himself, making a thoughtful noise now and then, but largely let Justin talk, and he felt himself grow slightly less tense, the longer he vented, getting it off his chest instead of stewing in his worries.
Finally he was done, smiling sarcastically at her, hands splayed out, "Well?" He queried challengingly.
Elena crossed her arms under her breasts, tapping a golden heel on the ruined carpet thoughtfully, "It seems the solution is clear for the moment, at least from my humble position." She said, a slight smirk popping up on her face momentarily, before being smothered.
Justin sighed, leaning down onto his knees with his elbows, "Enlighten me then, oh wise one…" He drawled out, feeling like he might just have a bit of an odd relationship with his closest employees, compared to most CEOs.
Except for the fucking them part, that was par for the course for CEOs.
Not that he was supposed to do that anymore, he thought, drinking Elena in.
Elena shrugged slightly, "Just keep an eye on the situation and otherwise ignore it while you have more pressing matters." She said calmly, her smirk making an reappearance as Justin just looked at her, unimpressed. "Sir, as you've said, you have a lot on your plate. This man is not actively hindering you right now, nor do you believe he will. So prepare for the future, but don't worry about what you can't affect right now."
Justin snorted, shaking his head, "Your advice boils down to don't worry, be happy." He mocked.
Elena smiled, "So what if it does? Does that make it wrong?" She said lightly, stepping away from the armchair she had been leaning against. "You seem in a better mood already…"
Justin snorted again, but didn't gainsay her, because she was right, he did feel lighter, less encumbered. He'd been going in a spiral of worries and just needed to be knocked out of it, it seemed. He sighed, nodding his head once, "I suppose you weren't entirely wrong, I appreciate the assistance, Elena."
The Mandarin would keep, if he had to make deals with the devil to ensure his tech prospered in Asia, so be it. One day they'd end up opposite each other, he could worry about it then, he had more pressing concerns right now.
"Thank you, Elena." He added, giving her a fleeting smile, "Give yourself a ten percent raise, will you?" He tacked on, mind already on the meeting ahead, worries temporarily put aside.
Elena chuckled, giving him a small salute, walking off, Justin enjoying the sight briefly before starting to put his mind to the meeting with Emma Frost.
As Elena came back just a minute later, to get on her hands and knees with a dustpan and a hand held vacuum to clear out the glass, he mentally upped the amount for her raise.. And got down to help her.
It was hard to concentrate on his dastardly plans when a beautiful woman in designer clothing was on all fours doing house work for him - because he couldn't control his temper.
He was a debonair gentleman after all!
He chuckled briefly to himself as he vacuumed up small pieces of glass, his mood had indeed changed for the better.
Domino did well in hiring this one… He thought, eying Elena thoughtfully as she hummed a ditty he didn't quite recognize as she swept up after his tantrum, not many personal assistants to the rich would ever lower themselves to this kind of work, instead ordering around cleaning staff…
"Will that be all, Mister Hammer?" Elena asked, once most of the mess was picked up.
Justin smiled at her, utilizing the small interface in his glasses to send off a note to HR to up her remuneration, and give her better access to company files, upping her security clearance.
"That is all, Elena." He confirmed.
As she stepped away, her hips moving enticingly due to her high heels, he deeply regretted his rule on not sleeping with employees…
He wouldn't mind going back for more there.
He sighed. Ah, well, she's more useful where she is anyway…
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London, Hammer industries HQ,
Eileen sat down on the chair facing the window that overlooked Mystique's cell.
She was loose, guarded by the numerous confoam sprayers in the cell rather than any bindings. She was also naked, having been provided clothes, but refusing them - as a simple way of trying to make Eileen uncomfortable no doubt - when left with too few options in her confinement.
Or quite possibly hoping Justin would come, and get his interest to flow in other directions than an interrogation, which she inwardly admitted would likely have a shot at working.
She idly wished she could actually cuff her to a table, just to dial down the smugness in the captive woman's body language - she already knew she'd be free eventually.
Although if Mystique knew just how much illegal experimentation her boss did, she might not be so cocksure… She almost wanted to cuff her anyway and tell her, useless as it was.
Most bindings were ineffective on her unfortunately, as she could simply switch into a child's body and slip out of them. They didn't yet have any mutant power inhibitors, although that was on Vanko's list, amongst hundreds of other things.
At some point the rough Russian engineer was just going to tell their boss to go jump in a lake, the work never ending as he kept tacking on more and more.
She wasn't sure she liked the idea of mutant inhibitors, although Hammer was a better guardian of them than the government in any case.
Eileen leaned forward and pressed the button for the speaker, simultaneously hitting the button that would clear the view between them, turning the window from opaque to clear, on Mystique's end. "Raven." She said simply in greeting.
Raven Darkholme, as that was the visage she currently wore - smiled amusedly, sauntering over to the window, "Eileen, you've gotten sharper." She complimented. "Catching me out like that, no small achievement nowadays, fancy new tech too…" She trailed off, eyeing the sprayers in the ceiling, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.
Eileen knew better than to fall for such a simple ploy, Raven could work for it to find out anything once she was undoubtedly released, Eileen would not share anything of note. "Why are you here, Raven?" She asked simply, sitting stiffly in her seat, keeping as full control of her body's reactions as she could.
Raven tsked, snapping her fingers, a small smile on her face, "Sharper indeed." She said approvingly. She stretched unnecessarily, raising her arms high up, shoving her assets forward, only succeeding in gaining a slow blink from Eileen.
"Must you?" She griped, masterfully keeping any other reaction down, refusing to let Raven amuse herself on her account. She hated this part of Raven, the constant provocateur, always looking for angles, for weakness, or something she could use. It used to be in the manner of a spy, a professional, not… Like this.
Eileen did not hold interest in that, and Raven knew it, so the action was nothing but a deliberate attempt to annoy her and make her uncomfortable. And it worked, as it always did lately. "Why are you here?" She asked again, keeping her voice level.
Raven made a mou of disappointment, "You've gone all corporate on me Eileen." She complained lightly, tapping the glass with one finger, before sighing, "Just keeping tabs on Hammer is all, nothing new." She answered flippantly, "Where is he by the by?"
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Eileen allowed a small miniscule smile, "I'm afraid Mister Hammer didn't deem your capture as particularly important, he will not be coming."
Thank god for that, having to watch them fuck because she couldn't turn off the recordings for the cell would have been even more uncomfortable…
"Just you and me, huh?" Raven mused out loud, a flirtatious smile on her lips, seemingly uncaring of Hammer's dismissal, but Eileen knew her well enough, could see the slight tensing in her hands. Eileen just met her eyes with a steady gaze, unamused at her flirtation. "Sigh… I guess I'm stuck here for a bit then, how long do you think?"
"Did you just say, sigh, out loud?" Eileen complained, now absolutely sure the other woman was just out to annoy her, although parts of her were also beginning to feel uneasy. "I might let you out early if you can convince me you're telling the truth of what you're really up to." She said abruptly, narrowing her eyes.
What is going on with you, Raven?
"Really, I'm just keeping an eye on him, making sure he isn't going to be a threat to mutants everywhere. It's the naked truth." Raven said with a chuckle. "Get it?" She did a little hop to emphasize the effect.
Eileen's lips thinned, as she stared seriously at Raven, "What happened to you? The complete professional I knew?" She asked, ignoring her statement, knowing it was part of the truth no doubt, but not the full one.
She'd always been a consummate professional, that's what Eileen had admired about her in the beginning, yet… for the past two-three years, this… Harley Quinn caricature of her old friend was in play instead.
If she wasn't periodically within reach of Charles Xavier as Magneto's go-between, Eileen would have presumed she'd been mind controlled or replaced. She still wondered.
Raven shook her head, tsking again, wagging a finger at her, "I'm the same as always, just a little less stuck in a rut, the world is changing around us, Eileen." The shapeshifter looked serious for a moment, meeting Eileen's eyes, then that annoying smirk was in place again, the moment gone, Eileen facing a perfect copy of herself. Naked.
"This cell is monitored via the security system." Eileen told Raven darkly, breathing out her nose harshly, trying to not reach up through the building to force the security team watching the cameras to fall into a heap of limbs as their nerves misfired.
It wouldn't solve anything, they would have still seen it.
"Raven… Cease this." She ordered tersely. She didn't want to shut off the cameras, didn't want to shut off any part of the security system for any reason, nor could she tell the security team to leave the room and stop watching - there were more cameras than the cell to watch out for.
She could be doing this exactly to get her to shut off the security cameras or usher the security team out.
"No, I don't think I will." Raven said sensuously, running a hand up her body. Eileen's body. The effects of arousal becoming visible, giving Eileen a sick feeling to her stomach.
Eileen watched on grimly, now absolutely sure something was wrong. Raven had been a tease before, even though she'd mostly remained professional - she'd changed for the worse a few years back, but had still been a friend. This? This refusal, while knowing how uncomfortable she was making her? This was not Raven.
It couldn't be, Eileen refused to entertain the idea Raven would deliberately set out to hurt her this way. Knowing what her issues were. Not for something less than life and death.
She hit a button, the cell exploding into foam, Raven enveloped in seconds, her eyes shocked in the momentary flash of them Eileen could catch, before everything was beneath foam.
She closed her eyes, even as she fished out her phone, not needing eyes to dial one of the two numbers she'd always memorized, even as she never wrote them down or saved them in her phone.
For all that they were on different sides most of the time - they all knew each other well enough and kept contact numbers just in case.
"Charles, it's Eileen, I know we don't see eye to eye, never have… But I need a favor… I know Dr. McCoy is supposed to enter into service with my employer soon, can we possibly speed that up?" She looked into the cell, feeling a kernel of doubt, did she make a mistake? No… This was not Raven. Couldn't be. "Something is wrong with Raven…" She murmured into the receiver. "Something is very wrong with her."
She listened attentively for a few minutes, grimacing and shaking her head as Charles tried to gain custody for the testing. "No, she is in my custody, either help or get out of the way, Charles!" She snapped, her tightly held emotions for the last half hour, resting on a taut string after that experience.
She hung up after extracting a promise of seeing Beast within the day, hesitating as she thought of dialing the second number she'd memorized yet kept off any records.
She bit her lip, dialing a number…
"Boss, we have a potential issue with Mystique…"
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Rome, Italy.
The number one problem with meeting with Emma Frost, lay in having to leave his bodyguards behind, in trusting Extremis to be enough.
Domino knew too much to be allowed anywhere near Emma Frost. Even his security detail had too much knowledge about the inner workings of his company and its security protocols - to make it worth bringing them anywhere near a mind reader.
Especially as he had no idea how powerful she really was. For all he knew she could control them on sight and he'd never know until one day one of them puts a bullet between his eyes.
His security team would be monitoring him through the connection in his glasses, ready to come down with full prejudice if this was a trap. Justin had even surreptitiously contacted his contacts in the Italian armed forces, just as an extra precaution for backup should he be kidnapped or the like - because they would be able to shut down the airfields and airports - while Domino tracked him down.
The meeting with Emma was arranged at one of the finest French restaurants in town, which felt somewhat like a snub against Italy, considering they were in Rome, certainly there were Italian restaurants worthy of her patronage?
Perhaps she simply felt like French cuisine today? Justin didn't know enough about her to tell, really. That was half the issue.
He entered the restaurant, a fine dining experience no doubt, considering the finery around, the crystal and gold decorations and the fine wood paneling.
Also any restaurant that had a small stage with a grand piano - was not what one could classify as low brow.
Justin approached the single table in the middle, where Emma was seated, she was wearing a white dress with inlaid gold patterns going down her arms and sides, the dress itself conservative, with a high neck, looking like something out of an older era - just more refined.
"Miss Frost." He said cordially, but coolly, not all together impressed with this entire thing.
Buying out a restaurant just for this, just so they could sit surrounded by silence at a single table perfectly in the middle, it just seemed unnecessary to him. The fact she didn't rise up to greet him, trying to assert dominance in a typical business play - also aggravated him.
He was doing her a favor even meeting with her with his busy schedule, she was the one that wanted something out of him, not the other way around.
Well… He thought, giving her a once over again, Some things I could be talked into..
"Mister Hammer, please take a seat, we have much to discuss." Emma said coldly, her face impassive.
Justin raised an eyebrow in incredulity at her tone and welcome, taking a seat across from her, "What a warm welcome." He drawled sarcastically once seated, "Is this how you normally do business, miss Frost?"
The woman was treating him like an enemy, when he held knowledge she wanted suppressed. He had expected a warmer welcome and an attempt to create a working relationship, not this.
It did not bode well for the rest of the evening.
Emma studied him intently for a moment, before her lips turned minutely downward, "No it is not, not normally." She said, her face firming up, "However recent events have proven to me that strength will do me better than kindness in situations like this."
There was the soft clinking of glasses out of sight, then two waitresses appeared, one carrying a tray with glasses and small aperitifs, the other carrying a wine bottle.
Both were beautiful, dressed in fine clothing not belonging to a waitress, if anything they looked right out of high society. He squinted, bringing up facial recognition in his glasses, he was pretty sure he recognized one of them, wasn't she a french movie star?
His search confirmed it, the facial recognition for the other woman coming back as the fucking granddaughter of the French president.
Both seemed utterly terrified as they approached, which raised Justin's hackles, as he slowly met Emma's gaze, "This is your idea of convincing me to be an ally instead of an enemy?" He said, gesturing to the two women.
As a show of power, it was something… But it only increased the odds Justin would be against her, he couldn't understand her play.
Emma smiled coldly, curling a long finger to one of the women, the president's granddaughter, who smoothly stepped over, even as her eyes screamed out her terror. "Too many times now, men have used me, used my power, my looks, my brilliance." Emma said softly, gently touching the chin of the woman held by her telepathy, but cruelly left aware of it, "I do not intend for you to be another, Mister Hammer. This demonstration, while unpleasant, proves my point, I trust?"
Justin grimaced, shaking his head, grabbing a glass and an aperitif from the other woman, the better to get them sent away sooner, he certainly wasn't actually going to eat or drink anything now… "It proves something alright." He agreed darkly.
Obviously she could mind control people, which was scary as fuck, but it was also not the best way to start a business relationship to threaten him so openly. Where did she grow up? The hunger games?
"Do you need further proof, Mister Hammer? You are a ladies man are you not?" She asked, tone dripping with disgust, "Shall we see what service these women can provide you? Moved by a simple thought?"
She gently gestured with her finger, the president's granddaughter kneeling, her eyes shiny in unshed tears. Justin felt only disgust watching this sick display of power.
Justin could practically feel the ice cold terror wafting off the women, he met Emma's eyes coldly, "How are you any different?" He asked starkly.
She paused at that briefly, tilting her head slightly, "Excuse me?"
Justin waved at the women, lips curling in disgust, "These women, you've taken their bodies against their will, whether you force them to 'perform' or not, you've already done the same injury to them that I assume you've suffered, from what you've said so far."
Although who the hell had the means or the balls to do that to this woman? And survive it… Justin thought, acknowledging her superlative beauty, but recognizing the cruelty and calculation within. He was somewhat similar after all.
He certainly would use people as well, if they weren't his, they were just numbers on a board, he wasn't a champion of justice or something ridiculous, he was a supervillain and an industrialist. That said, some lengths even he didn't go to - he had a feeling this woman was far less constrained.
Emma pursed her lips, waving a hand, the two women leaving the dining room, "They will not remember a thing." She said, dismissing the comparison, picking up a wine glass, one of the thralls having filled it while she coldly threatened to use their bodies for her purposes.
Puppets to move as her strings commanded, with no care for them, enforcing a greater cruelty by allowing them to be aware even as she puppeted them.
Justin scoffed in disquiet, "If you didn't remember whatever turned you into this cold bitch? Would it suddenly be fine?" He mocked lightly. Because fuck that. "You can't erase a traumatic experience by wiggling your fingers, somewhere deep down… They'll remember."
Emma's eyes narrowed, "Tread lightly on this subject." She warned, fingers tightening around the glass, but she looked uncomfortable, he'd scored a point.
Amusing that the subject matter irritates her, but she is the one who chose it for her 'demonstration' He thought. Although maybe amusing isn't the right word for this situation. Endlessly fucked up and cruel fit better.
"You brought it up." Justin rebutted mildly, grasping a wine glass just for something to hold, having no intention of drinking anything. "You invite me here, and attempt to threaten me, my company, my employees, and your feelings are hurt because I call you out on it…" His eyes narrowed as he contemplated the woman, going through the conversation again.
Actually… It's odd… Why would she be so confrontational? What purpose would it serve? Threatening me, yes? But it could be achieved so much simpler without risking my anger or me actually accepting her bluff… If it was a bluff..
No… It must have been…
"That was a test…" He said with disgust, putting the wine glass down, "Well, did I pass?" He said, giving her a displeased look. Not at all happy with this bullshit with the week he's had. At least he hadn't read this woman entirely wrong in Bern, he'd begun to wonder if she was really completely ice cold and heartless.
It was good for business, certainly would have served her well as CEO, but for allies, it was suboptimal. No one can begin to give out even an iota of trust if they believe the other party is completely irredeemable.
There must be at least some level of belief that there were lengths the other side wouldn't go to, or any cooperation was impossible.
Emma raised an immaculate eyebrow, nodding stiffly. "You performed adequately, I could not risk you being the same kind of man as I've already dealt with before… Not with what we are both facing soon, we'd do best to be allies for the near future." She paused delicately, adding. "You have a certain… Reputation."
Justin grimaced slightly, "Never by force, or coercion, or any kind of pressure like that." He said, disgusted by the insinuation she had thought him capable of that. Had prepared this meeting, and kidnapped those women specifically because she thought it possible.
He squirmed slightly guiltily however, because while he hadn't forced Natasha into bed - her entire mission being to seduce him - it still came awfully close to the line of the same thing.
He was a villain, but he was not the kind of man to force himself on women against their will. Although if she had that kind of history… Some of the tenseness in his shoulders eased, it would explain why she was so confrontational, why she was sounding him out in such a harsh manner.
He grimaced internally, she's probably seen the video… And knows the context behind it…
If she had the ability to kidnap the president of France's granddaughter on hours of notice, she had the ability to find the video.
Emma shrugged lightly, seemingly unconcerned with his thoughts on the matter, "I needed to know, and at the same time warn you what could happen were you to become an enemy of mine." She frowned, eyeing him seriously, her eyes cold as ice, "We move in a world unlike any other, Mister Hammer, we can not afford to take anything for granted - I could not afford to let you walk out today without knowing how dangerous betraying me would be."
"I don't disagree, I certainly don't trust you, and after this, trust you even less." Justin replied dryly, "Although I understand why."
She didn't trust him, he held one of her biggest secrets, they were business rivals. She had every reason to be afraid of what he'd do, hence the heavy-handed show of what exactly she could do to his people if they were to be enemies.
Even if at least part of it was put on as an act to take his measure, the meaning behind it had been true. She would destroy him if he revealed her secret.
That language he understood, as opposed to the manner in which she delivered it. He could respect mutual assured destruction, although it would have been far simpler for her to simply lay her cards on the table, Justin was not a fool, nor would he have shied away from such a discussion.
It would have been better than this frankly horrific show that would give him nightmares for a while and have him look twice at any of his people for a long time going forward.
How sure was he that Xavier hadn't compromised his staff when they met in Johannesburg?
He didn't overly blame her in the end. She was working on what knowledge she had. He would have held a frank discussion on their situation.
But she didn't know him, and she couldn't read his mind like she no doubt did to everyone she met, so she'd pushed to see how he would react. To learn how corrupted he was, to see how easily he turned to rage or fear.
Justin idly wondered if she would have tried to kill him if he'd accepted 'servicing'.
He imagined so. She didn't strike him as shy with pulling the trigger.
Emma nodded her head slightly, "Trust isn't something that we'll ever have." She said frankly, "I can never trust a man that I can't see, fully see, again." She added, making a small gesture to Justin's implants. "What I propose is an alliance of mutual benefit, where it is too costly to betray each other."
Justin certainly wasn't going to give her access to his head, but he also wasn't sure he wanted an alliance with this woman. He was doing fine on his own. He didn't see much benefit for him in all this, and he wasn't a charity, if all she had for him was threats, he would tell her to go fuck herself.
Perhaps from a distance.
Fuck, he needed that AI, telepathy couldn't do shit to that…
"You have threatened me, disparaged me, talked down to me." Justin pointed out calmly, meeting her eyes in all seriousness, "Except for your powers, which I can't trust, why on earth should I become allied with you, Miss Frost? How would I benefit?" Show me you're more than threats and posturing… Or I'm out.
"Sebastian Shaw and the immortal Selene…" Emma said grimly, "Them and their Hellfire club is why you need me to not be an enemy, and I need you to not be one in return - they are too powerful, the Black King and Queen, for you, or me, to go at it alone."
….
Another fucking secret society! Justin wanted nothing more than to scream out his frustrations at the world. How could he possibly keep running into these things? If the Illuminati were fucking real then he was done, he'd just let the world save itself.
He wanted to get drunk, or go fuck someone, or a nice massage, or all three - he really wanted to just scream out his frustrations.
But not with this ice cold bitch watching. So all he could do was say.
"Tell me more."
----------------------------------------
Kairo, Egypt, five days later.
Justin paused at the entrance to the restaurant, just taking in the absolute dichotomy between the two women, one he'd met in Rome, and the one he was meeting here in Kairo.
Emma had been cold, impersonal, and had arranged everything around her to just so, buying out an entire restaurant and getting rid of everyone but the minimum mind controlled 'staff' needed for one meal - all for the sole purpose of their meeting.
Not that either of them had eaten a single damn thing, but that just furthered his point.
There had been privacy, sure, but the entire meeting was all business with just the hint of underlying threat underneath it, not in any way meant to be a comfortable dining experience. Should he amend that to the meeting being all threat with a hint of business? It seemed that fit better…
Now as a juxtaposition there was this.
Due to their dinner being postponed due to the rapid escalation in world issues, he'd been invited to dinner as soon as they were on the same continent again. They'd been working close together over the last few days, albeit via facetime and phone calls, to set up a solution for the Suez canal - so here he was, having been invited to dinner by Hope Van Dyne.
He'd still promised her to return the favor in San Francisco one day soon, but he'd accepted the invite, even if he was wary of another murderous business woman situation.
Luckily, it seemed Hope really was all that she seemed. Down to earth, intelligent, and without any airs.
It was a small eatery, the weather worn sign outside not even giving a name, simply a picture of some sort of bird, too faded to easily tell what kind. It didn't even have a door, simply a hole in the sandstone wall, thin, almost translucent curtains hanging in the entranceway in several layers, no doubt to help keep the sand out.
He was mildly curious how they avoided being robbed at night, but charmed by the down to earth local vibe it held, not one he ever saw anymore, the circles he moved in didn't exactly come around to these kinds of places.
When was the last time he did something so simple? When was the last time he even did something lazy and normal like swing by a burger place?
Justin stood at the entrance taking the place in. It was loud, first of all, an incredible din of noise around the place. Nothing distinguishable as the noise just mixed together, as the working class supped and drank after their hard shifts, some of them playing board games as they drank or smoked.
The noise came not only from all the people that absolutely filled the small eatery from wall to wall, but also from the sounds of the kitchen, pots and pans clanging, sizzling and searing audible as flashes of flame and steam could be seen through the viewing hole built into the separating wall between the kitchen and dining area - you could hear the loud, shouted arabic of the chefs loudly swearing and ordering each other around, a radio was playing some sort of music in the background of the kitchen, but it was impossible to hear over the noise.
The place looked clean and well put together all in all, something he hadn't expected with seeing so much smoke in the air, both from the kitchen and from the patrons - it looked rough and you might have an expectation of things being unclean at that, but no. The eatery was simply rugged in appearance, most of the furniture appeared handmade, as did the curtains and tablecloths, in essence it looked well loved and taken care of. A family run business by all accounts, a charming little hole in the wall kind of place. And the noise would in its own way provide plenty of privacy just as his meeting with Emma in an empty restaurant.
Just in a very different manner. The two women showed just how dissimilar they were and gave Justin an invaluable insight into their minds just by these picks - Emma holding only facts, logic and business, close to her heart, trusting no one - while Hope believed in people, trusted people, counted on people.
They were as different as two women could get.
Normally Justin wouldn't even see a place like this, not in this life. So he was oddly pleased at what he saw as he stopped holding up the entrance, and walked into the din, spotting Hope sitting by the wall right next to the kitchen, in a tiny booth, appropriately dressed for the local customs, sans the face veil.
Hope got up as he got close, a small pleased smile on her face alerting Justin to her being aware of his silent pleasure at the locale.
"Nice to finally see you in person, Justin." She said, raising her voice to be heard, though they were only feet away from each other.
Justin smirked, stepping forward, kissing both her cheeks, "Pleasure to meet you again, my dear, it's been years, far too long, really." He escorted her for the few steps it took to get back to the booth, her arm loosely entwined with his, "And how did you hear about this location? It's utterly charming!"
They both slid into the booth, Hope waving down the waitress, smirking at Justin as she ordered everything for him, drinks and all.
"Hope you don't mind, but I'm dying to see your reaction to some of the food here." She said, her hair hanging loose instead of her usual ponytail. She looked comfortable in her sand coloured robes and street wear, looked at home, unlike Justin in his Armani suit.
Before he could reassure here that he didn't honestly care - besides he was unlikely to understand the menu anyway - she continued speaking, "This little gem actually came to me from General Abubakar Farouk." At Justin's questioning look, she smirked playfully, "Aren't you reading my emails, Justin? He's the general in charge of protecting and cleaning up the Suez, we've been coordinating for days."
Justin cleared his throat somewhat sheepishly, "I have a new personal assistant, between her and Bakshi, I generally dictate most of anything important after a brief synopsis of a situation - I rarely personally read most of my emails anymore." He could not remember the general at all, but with as many people mentioned in a day to him, that's not too surprising, it's why he had people for that.
Hope laughed, leaning back against the backrest, one hand idly playing with the homemade clay mug she'd been drinking from before his arrival. "Way to make a woman feel special." She mocked lightly, before smiling slightly, showing him she held no hard feelings, Hope continuing on with her story, "Anyway, the good general is the typical military hardass cut from rock and about as emotional as one - but he does have a granddaughter he absolutely gushes about…"
Justin nodded looking around with a more discerning eye, noting several items that did lend itself to a more nationalist or militaristic influence, "And she owns this place I assume then."
Hope nodded as they were interrupted by the waitress bringing their drinks, also in clay mugs, and a plate of appetizers, both of them giving the woman brief smiles in thanks.
Hope picked up a piece of naan bread and dipped it in the hummus, taking a dainty bite, humming in appreciation, "Sometimes you get tired of the gold plates and the snobby maitre d's and just want a more homespun place, you know?" She said, looking contemplative.
Justin tried the hummus, finding it delightful, and less garlicky then what he's experienced in North America, he preferred this, he found. "I can't say how long it's been since I've been to a place anywhere similar to this." He gave Hope a thankful smile, "I understand where you're coming from, even though I enjoy the finer things in life, there is definitely something to be said for a homemade meal as well."
All in all, he felt more relaxed than in days, the hustle and bustle of business, threats and world altering events just… Melting away, lost in the din and cacophony of people simply enjoying a good time, with good food and company. Plain and simple, but uncomplicated - and he could do with that once in a while.
Hope nodded, a glint in her eyes as she grew slightly more serious, "I admit I had ulterior motives as well, we're taking a big chance here, involving Pym industries with you."
Justin smirked, adjusting his tie smugly, "I see, and I suppose I pass with flying colors then?"
Similar meeting purposes - very different approach, he thought in amusement.
Hope smirked slightly, hiding a chortle, "A solid C." She taunted him, taking a sip of her newly arrived drink, steam wafting out of it.
Justin shook his head, affecting a wounded look, "That's a shot straight to the ego." He complained lightly, understanding where she was coming from, and pleased he'd lived up to her expectations. "I do look out for the little guy, you know, the wage and health benefits in my companies outshine every other industry and government in the world…"
Hope tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes, "What one does for one's business and what one does when interacting with people with no use - are two separate things." She pointed out dryly, her expression easing as Justin helped himself to another piece of naan. "That said, you're right, and it does ease my mind somewhat to see that my father's opinion of you is inherently flawed."
Justin smiled sardonically, "Ah, you never did tell me how you convinced the great Hank Pym to do this - after my every argument failed spectacularly."
Honestly! Justin could have offered the man the moon and he would have sniffed and claimed it was too small and why wasn't he offering Jupiter… Fucking Hanky Pym…
Hope smirked somewhat viciously, and Justin had to say that vicious looked good on her. Very good. Some women were like flowers, soft, pretty and delicate - and some were more like a tiger or other predatory animal - vicious, indomitable, unbending. Hope definitely belonged in the second category.
Emma had a category of her own. Probably a basilisk, beautiful in a way, kills you with its gaze, undoubtedly venomous, it fits the dangerous woman to a tee.
"I'll keep the details as family secrets." Hope said, eyes glittering with some hidden pleasure, lips quirked wryly. "But he came around to my point of view…. Eventually."
Justin raised his clay mug for a toast, laughing lightly, "To stubborn old men and their children showing them how to do things better!"
Hope snorted, but picked up her own mug, knocking it against his, "To a fruitful relationship."
Justin raised an eyebrow, "On the first date? Miss Van Dyne, what kind of man do you think I am?" He teased, smirk widening, the stressors of the past week just sliding off his shoulders.
Hope blushed slightly, but she met his eyes without shame, giving as good as she got, "An incomparable man slut." She matched Justin's smirk, rolling her eyes slightly, "I meant a business relationship you hedonist!"
"Uh-huh." Justin said skeptically, smirking behind the mug, taking a sip of the very strong coffee, almost holding a nutty flavor to it.
Hope laughed, looking exasperated, even as she hid her mouth with one hand, eyes warm, "You're just going to continue to be a horrible cad, aren't you?" She asked
Considering it seems to be working very well… Justin thought.
"Yes." He said simply, raising his mug to her in a salute.
Nothing more than a pleasant meal and even more pleasant company came from the rest of the night, Justin couldn't feel disappointed at it. They'd lingered until the proprietor kicked them out, two hours after closing time, eating more than they should, definitely drinking more than they should, and getting to know each other far further than they ever had as simple business associates.
He still wanted the Wasp on his team, wanted Pym industries working side by side with his own, if not swallowed into his budding mega corporation.
But… He might have actually made a friend.
As pathetic as it was to say. Justin didn't really have any of those before now.
It would be interesting going forward.
As long as he doesn't strangle Hank Pym tomorrow… Today… That dinner did go long, gosh.
Domino gave him a once over as she picked him up, a mien of surprise on her face, "You okay, boss? Usually I don't see you smile like that unless you got lucky?" She looked around skeptically at the tiny alleyway and the small hole in the wall restaurant, the area deserted at this late time, "And I don't think you'd be doing any of that here." She said skeptically, yet still examining him intently for ruffled clothes or other signs of activity.
Justin smiled, waving off her inquiries, "I suppose I did get lucky." He said, finally, to himself.
The panic that had begun gripping him so fiercely was settling down, he was facing threats, yes, but he could handle them.
He was Justin Fucking Hammer.
----------------------------------------
Next day, Port Said, Egypt.
Justin stood looking out over the absolute mess that had been made out of the mouth of the Suez Canal.
He wasn't alone, General Farouk was with him, surrounded by countless civilian and military engineers and a complement of Egyptian special forces.
Also with them were Hank Pym, standing to the side by his lonesome with a fierce scowl on his face, eyes fixated on the canal, where his daughter was.
Of course, there were also a mass of reporters just out of range, held back by Egyptian soldiers, but well in range to continue snapping pictures.
"It's certainly a job well done." Justin muttered, staring at the absolutely perfectly executed blockage of the canal, several wrecks not only blocking the mouth of the canal - as well as several more at different points in the canal - but they'd also sunk ships waiting to enter, making a operation to clear the blockage conventionally take even longer, as they'd first have to clear out the surrounding area.
"Are you admiring the work of these rabid terrorists, Mister Hammer?" General Farouk asked tersely, stepping up beside him on the cliffside overlooking the canal.
Justin nodded, uncaring of the sour expression on the otherwise stone faced general, "They did good work, I don't need to lie to comfort myself or anyone about it." He smirked, glasses flashing as he received up to date information on the operation through them, "Besides, I'm about to upstage those savages anyway…"
General Farouk harrumphed loudly, hands held behind his back as he gazed across the destruction, "If it works, you have as previously discussed, free range for what you need."
Justin nodded, pleased. Separate from the deal with Pym technologies, he'd made his own deal with the Egyptian government, he needed a good place for his more inhumane experiments - this one separate from the likes of Cho and other scientists of a more delicate constitution, and Egypt would be far more suitable than a western country. Of course as far as the government was aware, it was simply military research being performed.
Mostly he needed somewhere the X-Men were unlikely to poke their noses in, and Egypt was definitely not a country for strange or different people to go snooping around in.
"I don't approve of using my daughter for this." Hank Pym interrupted rudely, stomping up to them both, expression rigid and uncompromising.
Justin surreptitiously rolled his eyes, continuing to look over the canal as General Farouk glared at the other scientist.
"You refused to assist us, refused to allow us to do it, refused to allow Mister Hammer to do it, why then are you surprised when your daughter is the only one left?" The old general said quietly, mindful of the audience of aides nearby - and the press further away.
Hank muttered something angrily too low to hear, but notably did not present any other protests, knowing as he did, that his daughter was already in position to begin shrinking ships and nothing would change that now.
Justin brought his hand up and toggled the mic on his collar, his glasses able to take in any returning communication and putting it as text across them, "Domino, you and the security team?" He asked calmly.
Text strolled back, "All in place, we got you covered, I will be back at your side in approx 3 minutes, just one last check of the perimeter."
Justin ignored the other two men as he continued, "Vanko? In position?"
He'd brought Vanko with him, and ordered Frank and Brock to fly over into the area from their place in Somalia as well. If any time was when Wakanda would sally out of their shield to use whatever air capabilities they still had - it was now.
It's not like they'd been able to hide this whole process from the media, it was beyond obvious something would happen today in the Suez, and with his presence and the presence of Hank Pym… Well the Wakandans might be stupid, but they weren't idiots, they could spy the connection there.
Vanko's reply scrolled in, "Da, sensors calibrated, maybe work, maybe not, will find out."
Justin scowled slightly, he'd hoped for a better answer than that. But he could only work with what he had, "Frank? Brock?"
"In position." Scrolled by twice from two sources. Scorpion and Vulture were ready to deploy if Wakanda dared to try and repeat their terrorist action against the Suez canal.
"Will your people be able to deliver?" General Farouk asked, calm despite the fact they were practically offering themselves as bait.
Justin's security team and the general's forces would defeat most normal enemies, and likely would win against a Wakandan strike time as well, but it wouldn't be immediate, and accidents happen.
Whether there would be any Black Panthers was another matter, but for that he had more backup, and Domino who could do a lot of damage to anyone if her life was at risk.
Speaking of, Domino sauntered up, checking over her weapons one last time, "Security is as tight as we can make it on short notice." She reported, not bothering to holster her main weapon.
Justin looked up into the sky, knowing Vanko's drones were up there somewhere, ready to scan for Vibranium, something they hadn't perfected, but they didn't need exact down to an inch perfection - good enough would be good enough.
"You're in charge here General, give the word." Justin said, not as worried as he might have been just a few days ago. He had Extremis, Domino, his security team and his HAMMER team on site.
He'd still look for more personal power later, but for this, it should suffice.
General Farouk grunted, waving an aide over, taking the military communication radio off his hands, "Miss Van Dyne, you may proceed." He said gruffly into the radio.
They all watched, shouts of shock and awe from around them, but notably not from the three men at the forefront - as the largest tanker sunk into the bay in front of the Suez - began rapidly shrinking.
Justin smirked, seeing the reporters losing their minds, another thing to add to my legend… He made a face of distaste, even if I have to share it with Hank fucking Pym.
Said man walked away in a huff from the group as the first ship disappeared. Looking supremely displeased. Justin really wondered what the hell Hope could have possibly done to convince the old grouch.
Justin turned back to the spectacle, keeping half an eye on the sky, but so far there had been no sign nor any warnings. The Suez canal would still need a week or two to clean up whatever pieces would be left before reopening. The pieces that had blown clear off the ships that they couldn't get to easily, but with the ships themselves gone - it took years off the operation.
"Contact." Vanko sent him with urgent priority. Justin's back straightened immediately as barked out, "They're here!"
Domino grabbed his arm and started moving back away from the cliff even as military personnel and his security team jumped into action.
Justin kept his eyes on the sky, C'mon, C'mon! He said to himself, his heart skipping a beat when a holographic bullseye appeared, shimmering in the sky, then a second one, then a third. The drones were painting targets, having found Vibranium.
Gunfire broke out around them as Wakanda soldiers came out of nowhere to bowl into the Egyptian forces, managing to have the element of surprise despite everyone having been waiting for their appearance.
Dozens of soldiers died even as Justin's security team and Domino jumped into the action, firing into the war dogs, each member of the team paired with another for targets - to ensure they had enough firepower to take them down immediately.
Energy weapons discharged, moving down an entire line of War dogs, as the rest spread out, seeking out their targets and presenting less of a target for Justin's men.
Justin held a gun loosely in one hand, hanging back behind Domino, keeping one eye on the fight, and one on the sky.
Explosions were occuring all across the sky above the Suez canal, Vulture gleaming in the sun as he tore through the sky, missiles and energy blasts knocking out the Wakandans camouflage fully - opening them up to artillery fire and the Egyptian air force.
On the other end of the cliff facade, Scorpion had appeared, moving like an agile artillery piece, his weapons honing in on any target the Vulture softened up for him and punctured right through, destroying the vessel. The Wakandans moved erratically and seemed surprised at their situation - taking a long minute to start responding, in which they lost three aircraft.
As two of them sped down towards Justin's position, no doubt to bombard the Egyptian leadership and himself, as a last fuck you before they died - Whiplash rose up from where he'd been hiding at the bottom of the canal, his silver armor gleaming as water sloughed off it, the multitude of Arc reactors shining intensely as he flew up to interject himself between Justin and the Wakandan aircrafts.
Justin knew it would look brilliant on camera, the reporters for once having a good use.
The aircraft fired, and Whiplash swiped his arms out, his arc reactors flaring up even stronger, a barely discernible corona of power surrounding him in a large bubble, the Wakandan attack destroyed when it came into contact.
"My turn!" Vanko called out with a humorous tone of voice, using his external speakers cranked up to the max, holding both his arms out in front of him, two charged beams of pure arc reactor power flashing forward, punching straight through the Wakandan airships.
At the same time, Vulture landed on another, shooting a beam from the arc reactor on his chest, holding onto the ship with his claws as they desperately rolled to throw him off, the beam burning through the ship until everyone inside were cooked alive, jumping off to hunt another ship, the Wakandan aircraft plummeting into the Suez, mostly intact.
With Scorpion running around the edge of the canal and firing into the sky limiting the Wakandans movements, with Vanko protecting Justin's side, with the Vulture hunting them down - the remaining few Wakandan aircraft fled suddenly, to the astonishment of those watching, no one expecting them to flee. Not with how suicidal they'd been so far in this short war.
Justin looked around, noticing he had moved away from Domino slightly as he'd been focused on the fight in the air. Despite the fighting he could see that half the press core was still in place - not even imminent death enough to move them.
Good, it would make for some amazing press for him, defeating Wakanda and cleaning up the Suez canal at the same time.
He smiled smugly, HAMMER got a good debut here. If Hope was doing as planned… She was still shrinking ships, working even as Wakanda was repelled, showing the world that life moved on, that Hammer industries and its allies could defend them.
It was a very good day. He winced as he scrambled away from a thrown spear, ending up even further away from Domino, a battlefield was not the best time to monologue, whether internally or not, he chided himself.
Out of the corner of his eye, even as the battle was winding down, the Wakandans on the ground having no avenue to escape, so they were fighting to the death, Justin saw something moving inside the guard perimeter.
Justin saw a Wakandan heading for Hank Pym, having somehow gotten past the defensive circle of guards, and Justin almost slowed himself down to keep himself out of it even as he was already right by them. It would have been perfect, Hank Pym dead by Wakandan hands - no ties to Justin at all, Hope brought closer into his circle in grief, Pym technologies within his grasp.
Yet…
His mind flashed to dark eyes flashing with brilliance, quirky little smiles as stories were shared, the scent of rose water, the hands of an engineer, yet still soft and womanly as she held his hand and explained the lines in them, the brilliant woman somehow suckered into astrology of all things. Somehow managing to make it charming instead of silly.
He found himself moving, intercepting the spear, grunting in agony as it speared through his abdomen shortly thereafter, but leaving Hank Pym safe. The old man better appreciate it!
Domino was going to be pissed he left her side in the first place. Phantazia was going to rip his head off for it.
But…
Hope… Was a friend, maybe. Could be, were they? He was already going to conquer the world, he didn't need to harm her for it. Didn't need to see her grieve to get ahead, not when he'd succeed either way.
He raised his gun, and nailed the surprised Wakandan between the eyes before his security team could, gritting his teeth together as he pulled the spear out in front of the shocked white face of Hank Pym, keeping a hold of it in one hand - because free Vibranium - it was his now.
It would look good on his wall once he built his new headquarters.
He spit out blood even as the wound in his abdomen sealed up, giving Hank Pym a bloody smile.
"You're welcome, old man."
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Los Angeles,
Obadiah Stane stood at the balcony jutting out of the penthouse suite of the Hilton, both hands holding on to the edge as he puffed on a cigar, staring at the stars glittering in the dark night sky, pondering the events that had led him here.
Greed? Something so simple? He already had anything a man could buy…
No, not greed, it wasn't as simple as that.
Perhaps he was just fed up covering for a playboy who did two minutes of work when forced to stop whoring and drinking for a second - and still managed to outshine him every step of the way.
His hands curled around the balcony ledge as he bit down on the cigar in agitation, yes… He thought, that's why…
He was the one running Stark industries, who met with the politicians, who kissed ass, did favors, went golfing with 95 year old congressmen, sacrificed his weekends, his weekdays, his life, on managing a company where he didn't receive a lick of the credit.
Was there any articles at all written on how he'd managed to diversify Stark industries from Howard Stark's few limited interests? How he'd kept the lights on, kept things ticking to give Tony the money and time to get settled as the company golden goose?
Tony had taken him for granted. Had never once thought or cared enough to ask, or even wondered if Obadiah had enjoyed those many long weekends schlepping across the country so that he could have benders, once in a while delivering a product that was actually able to be marketed.
No one but him knew just how much Tony actually created. He let out a huff of amusement, eyes crinkling as he grinned with the cigar in his mouth. Except 90 percent of it is either too pricey to anyone but the top 1 percent - or completely impossible to produce on an industrial scale… It would be funny if it wasn't so damn… Infuriating, his grin died as he thought of all the prototypes wasted on flighty dreams of fancy, on the projects that got deemed impossible.
On all the possible or impossible projects that could have been picked up, that Tony had refused to touch because they'd been Howard's…
He bit right though his cigar, frowning in annoyance as he discarded it over the edge, turning back to the interior, impossible projects like the arc reactor… God damn Justin Hammer could do it - so Tony could have as well the useless genius!
The thrice damned Ten Rings weren't answering his calls after sending that damn video - so he didn't even know if the brat was alive or about to pop up and make life very uncomfortable. Just to be safe he'd deleted absolutely everything and even replaced the damn servers, expensive as it was - he wasn't taking any chances with his legacy, no one would wrest Stark - soon to be Stane - industries from him.
No one.
Especially Tony fucking Stark.
He couldn't take any chances…
"So, we agree on the price then?" Obadiah said, showing just a hint of his annoyance at the delay.
The fact his guest had to call someone, ( someone he wasn't aware of) to make the decision, sat ill with him, but he needed to move on this issue now. He had a bad feeling Tony was still alive, why else would the terrorists stop talking to him? And he was uncomfortably aware just what Tony was capable of if push came to shove.
He needed to move now, before it was too late. And if an investigation came? Well he'd already covered his tracks either way.
Dmitri Smerdyakov smiled, putting his phone down, "The terms are acceptable to my employer." He said firmly.
Obadiah grinned darkly.
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