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Cairo, Egypt.
Justin liked to complain about how busy and stressed out he was, and truly, when it came to issues like the Mandarin and such - such things did invite some stress and temporary tantrums, but those were outliers, really.
Most of the time he didn't get bothered, Magneto and the Mandarin were certainly outliers that would bother any sane, logical being, so no one could really blame him for letting those issues stress him slightly.
However, when it came to his business and the politics of the world, he didn't falter.
He thrived - even as he complained about it to all and sundry - in the high stress environment of business and politics. This morning alone, he'd spoken with four President's, two Prime Ministers, one King, and Alexander Pierce - and taken care of business matters all at the same time.
Rhodes had been contacted as well, his efforts updated with what Justin called a 'tip' but was basically everything he remembered about the cave Tony Stark was in, and the people that held him, including the fellow hostage, Yinsen. Perhaps that would help him narrow the search area down.
If the good doctor had been nabbed anywhere near the cave, at least they had a new avenue to search from… Hopefully it would at least help a little, and hopefully Gulmira wasn't actually on the other side of the country or something.
Either way, Frank and Brock were already enroute, ready to kill everything with extreme prejudice as soon as they found the location.
He could no longer risk waiting on Tony Stark. Not if there was any chance the Mandarin was involved in the situation. He'd almost sent Domino for the job, but she was too useful as his last defense, the Wakandan attack on his New York headquarters had shown as much.
He rolled across the room on his rolling chair, biting off a bit of beef jerky as he did, gesturing with one hand at Elena, who was busy with two phone conversations at the same time.
It was a rare person that could pull something like that off, but Elena was a queen of multitasking.
Without missing a beat she dropped one of the phones in Justin's outstretched hand, as Justin spun on the chair lazily for a moment, juggling it, "This is Justin Hammer…" He listened for a moment before growing bored and interrupting, "I don't know why you are giving me a hard time here, Dembe, buddy." He said affably, before biting off another piece of jerky, "We're all friends here, aren't we?"
The absolute pleasure Justin derived from being able to casually talk to a tyrant that held the lives of over 2 million people at his fingertips - like he was a gas station attendant - was just impossible to really quantify.
"You ask for too much, for too little." Was the growled reply, but Justin just chuckled, rolling back across the floor to where his desk was, not at all bothered by the antagonistic tone of the voice.
Just because the man had a habit of crucifying political opponents - or left handed people for some reason (Justin didn't judge) - didn't make the man a threat to Justin. "Buddy, hey… I ask for nothing but the best for both of us. Now you have tons of 'prisoners working without pay' available for both our benefits, so be a nice man and put them to use."
The Gambia was a small poor country that was in essence not worth much to pretty much anyone, which was why a dictator so easily could rule it, without any sanctions and notice from the rest of the world. It could be worth something to Justin however - if used right.
He had to prove that desalination plants could be done economically and climate friendly, before he could roll them out all over Africa as one of the steps of his revitalization plan. And Gambia not only had access to the coast of west Africa, but was situated entirely around a river. Offering plenty of opportunities to make Gambia a testbed for the technology, while also building enough that he could immediately provide extra water for all nearby countries while he built up more infrastructure elsewhere.
Other countries were hesitant to allow many plants due to how ineffective they currently were. Gambia would prove otherwise.
Normally desalination plants just weren't very good for anyone, for all that it got brought up every few years as the solution to everything. The energy costs made it particularly pointless, and the aftereffects were just pumped back into the ocean or rivers being used - polluting it, killing fish and creating other issues that just made it a worthless project.
With arc reactors, energy wasn't a problem, and Justin was really being beyond charitable by giving the country where most citizens were way below the poverty limit - an arc reactor ahead of schedule of more profitable nations. By the time the desalination plant(s) were built, someone in his company would have cooked up something for handling the waste he was sure.
Or he'd just add it to the Vanko's list, worst case. Something he'd rather avoid if he could.
He did have a fairly large research division that should be able to handle it. He certainly paid them enough.
So really, he was being a super nice guy about this. The 'people working without pay' aka slaves, would see a much improved life once everything came online, with actual jobs, water and energy available to everyone.
And the end of slavery too, so really they should thank him.
Not to mention the whole infrastructure build up he'd set in motion that would transform the small country to sights unseen in just a few years.
Perhaps Dembe realized the issue? How in essence, Hammer was taking over the country while leaving Dembe with the hatred of the people, left holding the bag once the people had the resources to overthrow him. All thanks to the gentle and lovable industrial overlord who made it possible by providing jobs, energy and water…
It was going to be a bother if the man was smart enough to realize the noose Hammer was offering him.
"You're not offering enough, Hammer. For all that you want to build, my cut should be bigger!" Dembe shouted into the phone, a heavy slam denoting the tin pot dictator slamming a fist down on something.
Nevermind, it's all about the money… Justin thought, chuckling again, feeling the aggravation over the line at not being taken seriously. "Dembe, Dembe, you're already going to be richer then you've ever dreamed of, why are you getting greedy, buddy?" He asked, amused at the thought the man had managed to take over a country, but was going to so easily lose his hold on it, just for a fat paycheck.
"I don't need you, Hammer." Dembe said quietly, a seething anger behind his words. His intransigence was starting to annoy Justin now, he really was offering a good deal, for the few years Dembe could enjoy it before he inevitably got lynched anyway.
"Did I hurt your feelings?" Justin mocked, rolling his chair right up to the screen he'd had installed that showed a holographic map of Africa, everything pertinent to his endeavors marked out clear to see. Justin zoomed in on Gambia, tearing off another strip of beef jerky as he did. "Tell you what, Dembe… Just because I'm a nice guy, I'll cut you another five percent, okay? Is that enough to get you started?"
Dembe grumbled audibly, before snorting like a bull, "You've seen sense then. Fine. It will be done." He said, rudely hanging up right after.
Justin knew that he couldn't be seen as a proponent for slave labor, even if it did so neatly save him the effort of bringing his own people down there. The people suffering under Dembe - whose full name was so long Justin just called him Dembe (not actually part of his name) would not suffer long.
He could wait until everything was built and the people threw a coup, had in fact planned as such. But Dembe had been quite rude and demanding just now, and Justin just didn't have to take that anymore, not from little pissants. He finished his beef jerky, tossing the phone to Elena, who easily grasped it, even as she continued her own phone call with the President of Angola.
A much more cooperative fellow, willing to sell his entire country's soul if it meant Hammer industries made their country a major hub for their plans. Justin liked forward thinking people like that.
They made it so much easier to completely roll over all opposition and burrow down so completely he could never be extricated from the country again.
"Sunil, note it down, when all the foundations have been cleared by the locals and we move in to build up in Gambia, have Dembe assassinated will you? Pay extra to make it something funny, like drowning in a toilet or something." Justin asked, as he stood up from his chair, pleased to see so many marks denoting Hammer industries presence already. His people were flooding in across the continent, hiring up the locals, buying up all the local businesses down to every grocery store or sweatshop, beginning the first stages of infrastructure projects and complete Hammer domination. "Make sure whoever's in line after, knows not to rock the boat." He added absentmindedly.
Sure they might become democratic afterwards, but odds were more likely that when Dembe dies, his second would simply slide into his shoes. Hopefully someone not quite as demanding - or quite as obvious about using slaves.
Useful as they were in doing the beginning drudge work before the experts came in - they did make for horrible PR. It was also horribly inefficient and a bad use of human resources of course.
"What's next on the agenda?" He said, rubbing his hands together, ending with a loud clap. This shit was what he lived for, running roughshod over an entire continent, getting what he wanted and not having to care an iota about what anyone thought about it.
Taking, buying, blackmailing, all the businesses that weren't international or useless to him - like restaurants and other small businesses of that caliber and the like - and making them his, spreading his name across Africa to where its people wouldn't be able to walk down the street without seeing five businesses with his name on it.
The whole world was laser focused on Wakanda, while all of Africa was scrambling to get as much of the Justin Hammer pie as possible, giving him an even stronger position then he'd already had. Disregarding people like Dembe who obviously thought they were hot shit.
Or whatever the hell his name was.
It was somewhat amusing that the world's focus was on Africa - yet he was still able to do whatever he wanted, because they were laser focused only on the part that mattered to the west.
All those leaders that had signed the deal in Johannesburg would surely come to regret it as Justin slowly took over everything, making it so they could never turn down a request from him, the entire infrastructure and supply chain owned by him. Well… Maybe they wouldn't? The whole continent would come out better for it after all.
Too bad he couldn't rename it. The focus groups had been severely against naming the continent, a country, or even a capital after Justin.
Elena and Domino hadn't stopped laughing for a day. It wasn't that odd, he'd thought.
"Sir, your flight to London is in 3 hours, we can handle this." Sunil said, surrounded by a cadre of people that helped him run things. All having arrived from their London and New York offices to assist with setting up their new Cairo office.
There was a continuous flow as people that weren't essential to his operations out west, all flowed into Africa to set up his work here.
Justin just grinned, fixing his tie as he cracked his neck, "So that means I have at least another hour more where I can get things done."
He gestured to Elena who simply smirked and handed him another phone, mouthing out, "Libya." To him.
Justin raised the phone to his ear, a pleased grin on his face, everything moving so rapidly and all of it his way! "So! Calling to talk about Hammer industries plans for reclaiming the desert I wager? Just give me a minute to get Egypt on the line, that way I don't have to say it twice.."
It was good to be him.
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Hours later,
Private Jet, over the Mediterranean
Sometimes it was not good to be him…
"You can not be serious?" Justin ground out between clenched teeth, sitting in the specially installed chair, with its attached screen(supposedly safest communication device in the world) inside his jet, allowing him to connect with his fellow World Security Council members.
Or as he liked to call them - those useless clowns who keep making everything worse.
"It is the conclusion we have reached." The Indian councilor murmured, his features hidden. Justin was already working on revealing his fellow councilors, but for now, most of them were unfortunately an enigma to him.
"With all due respect, it's the wrong conclusion." Justin said, not at all holding any respect for the idiots on this council, but unlike tin pot dictators, these idiots had to be treated differently. For now.
One day soon, not even these modern world power brokers would be able to do anything but bend their necks when he spoke.
He was looking forward to it.
"You should have been available for our discussion if you had objections, councilor." Gideon Malick said, with a butter won't melt in my mouth - kind of voice.
Justin knew him, thanks to Pierce. Knew him to be HYDRA, and knew him to be an asshole of the highest order. He glared at the indistinguishable blurry blob on his video screen, "I run the largest company in the world, I can't come running everytime you people have an issue." He grimaced, shaking his head, "Although perhaps I will have to from now on, if this is the so-called wisdom of this council…"
"Something needs to be done, councilor, and this is the choice we have taken for the betterment of us all." Came the chiding, electronically scrambled voice of the British representative.
"I highly doubt Magneto stole the Iliad." Justin riposted sharply, "And even if he did, it would be better to negotiate and find out why? Then to antagonize the man who could tear a skyscraper into the sky and toss it at us!"
"He has never shown the capability to keep that up long enough that it will matter." Came the dismissive answer from another councilor. And Justin wanted to snap at him, but held his tongue. Their minds were made up already.
They didn't know. They saw Magneto as a threat, but he'd been mostly in the background, they didn't know just how bad the man could become if he went all out. That said, he'd already shown the capability to throw around a skyscraper or its equivalent at least, so Justin couldn't fathom how they were so blasé about the whole thing. Fury likely knows better...
"Let's leave this discussion for now, I'll save the rest for the inevitability of a later - I told you so." Justin sniped sarcastically. "What news on Wakanda?"
The video screen focused on the hologram of Nick Fury. As it usually was for these types of meetings, the man was the only one standing, "SHIELD techs are pouring over what remains of the shot down Wakandan aircrafts, we do not yet have the means to bypass the shield, but we will." Fury said coolly, single eye intense.
"You're welcome." Justin offered, leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. "I'm counting every gram of Vibranium, Fury, don't let any go missing…" He warned, a sardonic smile on his face, because of course some would go missing. It was a given. Whether it was Fury himself or HYDRA that would do the deed, was the question.
It really was unfair that his identity was known to all the councilors and yet they dragged their feet on allowing him full access. Pretentious idiots. Like they were worth half of what he was to the world…
"Understood." Fury said stiffly, none too pleased to be answering to Justin, and for a world renowned spy, all too clear in showing it. What an oxymoron to begin with… World renowned spy in itself said you were a bad spy.
Yes, that means you too Natasha… He thought with scorn.
Justin listened with half an ear as the regular updates on Wakanda were gone over, nothing really new to add. NATO and the US armed forces were finally encroaching on Wakanda in significant enough forces to take over from the Africans.
Ready to take all the glory after the Africans all bled for it already, he thought with some amusement.
That sort of action would only quicken his own takeover of the continent. The more they were met with such casual disregard, and were bulldozed by the western powers - the more they'd fall in line with Justin, crawling deeper into his influence until they wouldn't even realize they were all puppets, dancing as he pulled the strings.
Seeing that there was nothing new to add, he offered his own tidbit, "I have an operative inside who is working on bringing the shield down." He said casually, enjoying the full silence that engulfed the - seconds ago - lively debate.
"When were you planning on telling this council?" Gideon growled, leaning forward slightly, his hands clenched into fists, if his holographic avatar was any tell.
Justin continued to lean back lazily, showing nothing but a total lack of concern at the attention from the rest of the council. "I just did." He said with a mocking tilt to his voice.
"Anything you can tell us about this operative and the likelihood of success of the operation?" Fury asked, looking pissed as well, but at least he was able to put it to use, trying to get more information.
Justin waved a hand airily, faking nonchalance, "Oh, just the son of a Wakandan prince that grew up in America and became an American soldier… He's like fourth in line to the throne, if Wakandan's had a more civilized manner of succession."
The silence was deafening, only the sound of the jet traveling through the Mediterranean audible as Justin grinned sharply, "What? You weren't aware? Oh, dear, another strike for the intelligence agency." He said mockingly, before shrugging carelessly, "No matter, he works for me now, and he's already inside Wakanda." He rested his chin in one hand, flashing a smile, "Again, you're welcome."
Fury looked completely stone faced, an expression Justin had learned he particularly used when he was beyond pissed.
Fury soon enough cut through the noise of the other councilors all trying to ask questions at once, sharply demanding, one eye fixated on Justin's holographic avatar. "And the status of the operation?"
Justin smiled beatifically, "I'm afraid I can't share such sensitive information, SHIELD just isn't up to par with my own organization when it comes to such things, you understand."
Alright, he was still pissed that the idiots had decided to poke the giant NOPE sign that was Magneto… But he wasn't lying either, SHIELD really was getting a bad reputation.
The look on Fury's face right now, literally worth a fortune. Justin thought, as he smiled smugly, meeting the irritated spy's gaze.
"I didn't hear a thank you?" He said smoothly, grinning at the man's holographic image.
…
Thirty minutes later,
Justin scoffed at the absolute idiocy that was the organization supposed to keep them all safe, as he hung up the call, stepping away from the chair, the holographic screens that cut away both image and sound for anyone nearby, receding.
He'd sooner trust the NYPD to protect them from aliens than SHIELD/HYDRA and the World Security Council.
At least the cops were less likely to stab them in the back for their new alien overlords…
He rubbed his face as he dialed a number, it was all down to him as usual.
The phone was picked up,
"Hey, Charles, any chance you can get Erik to sit down for a meeting, all three of us? Preferably without ripping the building apart?"
Justin listened for the answer, while fiddling with his glasses. With Extremis he didn't actually need glasses anymore, but with all the tech he had in them, they were too useful to remove.
He couldn't do a lie detector, not fully, yet. However, he was able to do things like take in the audio of a phone call and analyze the cadence of a voice, matching it to publicly available records of the same voice to look for subtle clues of subterfuge.
It wasn't foolproof, but he had made it a habit to run the program anytime he was on the phone now.
His glasses at this point ran more programs than most computers, all powered by the tiniest batteries Vanko had come out with yet.
Too bad it was all too useful to actually sell at the capacity it was capable of.
He listened to Charles answer, the glasses flashing with no detected subterfuge.
"Set it up in New York if possible, I'll be there for business in three days." He asked politely.
He didn't relish meeting with Magneto again, but with Charles there, the likelihood of anything going wrong was either much lower, or much higher… He was of two minds on the issue.
Domino and Phantazia would obviously have to come with him, just in case.
But he now had more than one reason to need to speak with Magneto. His frown deepened as he thought of who he held in his London headquarters at the moment.
He refused to be dragged into a war between mutant kind and SHIELD, even if only part of mutant kind to begin with.
It was time to begin operation - stop being fucking racist idiots and USE them you nitwits!
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Wakanda,
T'Challa seethed in the background, standing by himself with only Okoye nearby as his guard, as everyone was charmed by the outsider.
His father… The man who had been all but dead for the last few weeks, had suddenly come alive again, and T'Challa hated that this N'Jadaka was behind it.
How they couldn't see what he saw? The insincerity in N'Jada - no… Erik Stevens gaze. He didn't deserve to be spoken to with the true name, he wasn't Wakandan.
The timing of his arrival… Wakanda on a path towards destruction, spiraling towards the death of the nation - their last gasp attack on the Suez a monumental failure. And a lost prince arrives? One that had served in the enemy's armed forces…
How could they not see? Their shield is what kept them safe, it's what would give them a chance to perhaps negotiate for peace, once the hardliners in the council began to see how pointless continued war was. And now they allowed an outsider in, a man that served in the enemy's army.
The risk…
He was a charming snake, dripping with honeyed words even as the soul seen through his eyes, laughed in mockery of everything Wakandan.
As the council meeting broke up, Stevens followed along with the councilors, chatting like old friends as they talked strategies to end the encirclement around Wakanda, T'Challa stopped his father with a gesture, signaling he wished to speak.
"My son." T'Chaka said with a small smile on his gaunt face, having lost half his weight seemingly, over the last few weeks. "Why do you hide in the shadows?"
T'Challa grimaced as he stepped into the light, appearing before his father, "Baba, I must protest, we know nothing of this man!" He entreatied his father, grasping his hands in his own, "He can not be trusted, Baba!"
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
T'Chaka grew solemn, his thin hands squeezing T'Challa's gently, "I understand why you think so, my son. This time and situation has made us all leery of enemies."
T'Challa shook his head slowly, "No… It is not the war, Baba, it is him. I do not trust his intentions, never have I seen such a snake in human form."
T'Chaka's face grew stern as she stepped forward, bringing his hands up to grasp T'Challa's face, meeting his eyes seriously, "He is family, T'Challa, you see enemies where there are none. He is one of us."
T'Challa met his father's eyes, bitterly averting his gaze after a moment, shoulders slumping. The fact his father once again had light in his eyes made it hard to gainsay him. "As you say, Baba." He muttered, stepping back.
Nothing he had done, nothing Shuri or their mother had done - had brought life back to T'Chaka.
And now this stranger… Succeeded where they had not, and in doing so, stole his father away from him.
T'Chaka didn't listen to T'Challa anymore. This time he didn't even get a chance to discuss his suspicions before he was shut down.
With some empty platitudes to appease him, he left his father, heading into the deeper recesses of the palace - Okoye faithfully following him three steps behind.
Everything kept going wrong… His last gasp plan now seemed the only way forward, even his father's return working against him thanks to the snake in the grass.
A choked gasp behind him made him twist around, spotting a twitching Okoye falling to the floor, her eyes wide as she was electrocuted, before the woman lost consciousness.
"You!" T'Challa snarled, caught flat-footed as Erik Stevens knocked him into a wall, an arm across his throat, having brought down Okoye without a wisp of sound, had he stolen a weapon from the lab?
"Hey, cuz, how's it hanging?" Erik said with a cocky, playful smirk.
T'Challa pushed him away, the outsider chuckling as he moved with him instead of pressing his advantage.
"What is your game here?" T'Challa asked warily, knowing the speed of his adversary and the strength in which he pinned him - was not that of an ordinary human.
It matched his own.
"Just wanted to say hi, really. See how my cuz was doing, since you know…" He tilted his head slightly, a half smirk on his face, "You've been avoiding me and all."
"For good reason. You will finally be brought down, attacking me like this was a foolish last move," T'Challa said darkly, adding a spiteful, "Cousin!" For good measure.
Erik only laughed, standing completely at ease unlike T'Challa's warrior stance. "Nah, nah, cuz… You've got it all wrong, y'all aren't going to do a thing to me, only you and me here…" Erik toed the unconscious Okoye, chuckling further as he looked down at her, glancing at T'Challa out of the corner of his eye, "And ain't like daddy dearest listens to you anymore anyway…"
T'Challa hated how the interloper had set up the situation, because he was right. His Baba would not accept just his word. Not anymore.
"What do you want?" He hissed out, flexing his fingers, desperately wishing he could just attack, but Okoye… He glanced down at her body, prone and defenseless. I can not strike…
Erik grinned, stroking his chin, "Want? So many things, cuz, so many many things. But with you?" He paused, making a show off thinking about it, before grinning wildly, flashing bright white teeth as his eyes burned, "I ain't need or want anything from you, cuz. The coward prince, it's what they call you now, ain't it?" His grin grew larger somehow, "Cause you're refusing to fight?"
Coward he was called… He accepted the moniker, but he saw strength differently now, and going out and killing for no purpose was no longer something he could call strong.
T'Challa refused to respond, seeing a pointless waste of words as his only response if he did. He glared at the outsider that had invaded his home, daring him to attack.
Erik sighed, "Well, you're less fun than I'd thought, not really a panther are you? More like a nice fluffy kitten…"
"You mock me?" T'Challa growled, unable to follow his own decision to keep silent.
Erik Stevens, the man who claimed to be N'Jadaka, the man calling himself Killmonger, snapped his fingers loudly, "Now you're getting it." He mocked.
It took every bit of willpower T'Challa possessed to keep himself still and not throw himself at the man.
Okoye… And think of Shuri, don't leave her alone to face all this. He told himself as he stood shock still, refusing to be baited.
If he attacked him, he wasn't sure what way his father would lean nowadays - he couldn't risk it.
Eventually Killmonger left, leaving T'Challa to rouse Okoye, his mind already on the project he'd sponsored.
The way to save them.
Killmonger would face the Black Panther before that day if he had anything to say about it.
They'd see who was a coward then.
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London,
Justin stepped off his jet, frowning up at the sky, which was overcast and gray, "This is why I hate going to Britain." He told the sky, before continuing on his way down the airplane stairs.
He was met at the bottom by Eileen and Joachim Kahn - one of his senior people in Britain, who ran most of the businesses here for Justin.
With Eileen being a statuesque model and Joachim being a tiny and stocky German man, that most would assume walked off the set off a play of Snow White - the contrast was amusing to see walking down.
"Eileen, Joachim." He said pleasantly, nodding at them as he approached the armored limousine they stood in front of.
Without any further discussion, they all entered the limousine, Domino going into the front with the driver. There was no reason to linger at the airport, after all.
Justin was immediately handed a file by Joachim, the man immediately moving onto business, as was his usual wont. Justin had hired him two years ago, and he'd never heard of the man taking as much as a minute off, or ever even approaching anything that could be called small talk.
He appreciated the German efficiency, even as it annoyed him slightly that he could not social fu a man whose only interest lay in paperwork.
"That's some… Heavy editing here, Joachim." He said, not opposed to it, but interested in what their approach had been.
Joachim grunted, taking the file back, "If you truly desire full market penetration, sir, the team added Reddit and a couple smaller apps to the list for purchase, to fill up your vision for the app." He explained gruffly, gesturing to the file.
Justin hummed in thought, nodding along, searching up Reddit on his glasses and its current estimated worth, which was basically peanuts, "I should have thought it myself, carry on." He acknowledged.
"We couldn't find Instagram, as you asked us to, but with your description of its purpose, the app team believes they can come up with your intended purpose." Joachim said, his baggy eyes looking at him with reproach for sending them on a wild goose chase.
Justin scratched his chin, having not even realized Instagram didn't exist yet. "Huh, I suppose I just believed something like it must exist then." He said calmly, flashing a smile at the dour Joachim, "I notice that you disapproved of my method of payment?"
Joachim scoffed, slapping the file down on his knees, "Sir, your idea has merit, an everything app that includes social media, payment services, streaming services and more - will sell like hotcakes."
"But?" Justin asked, Eileen shifting impatiently next to him as Justin continued to push off their own discussion.
Joachim moved his jaw silently, looking for the words for a moment, "Sir, it is my own, and the teams opinion, that the app would find greater success in the end if some of the lower end services were free, while the higher end services were available for a fee - or even giving people their own choice, mixing and matching services on the app for a price, being able to pick their own personal configuration." He smoothed down the file in his lap, before continuing, "The services like this YouTube would make more sense as a free service, as does Twitter, ensuring you always have a large amount of users. The small fee for everything you proposed, will in our opinion detract from full usage, while a mixed free and payment set up would ensure full usage of the app."
Joachim thought it over, mulling on something, before giving one last option, "Or simply add all of the above to the operating system of the phones themselves and have it all be as one packet with a phone plan."
Justin thought it over, finding nothing really disagreeable about either notion, his goal was to ensure as many people as possible used it after all. Free might work as well, but people were inherently suspicious of a free ride. "It will take a while to buy up the companies involved and craft our own apps and teams to run them… Go with both of your suggestions for now, we can revisit once we're at the development stage of the final product." Justin ordered.
Joachim nodded, almost looking pleased but as always it was hard to tell with the gruff man.
They continued to speak about the business and his upcoming meeting with the Prime minister as they rode towards his London Headquarters, Eileen squirming in her seat the entire way, showing more emotion than he ever recalled seeing her do before.
Finally, they arrived.
Justin gave Joachim a few last instructions as Eileen impatiently waited, Domino watching her with a scrunched up nose, looking ill at ease.
"Alright, I'm here, what can you tell me?" Justin said calmly as he walked over, entering the building with his two bodyguards.
Eileen led him into the VIP elevator, before speaking up, "It's definitely still her. All tests lead to the same result according to Dr. McCoy."
Justin nodded, accepting the answer, gesturing for her to continue, secretly very pleased Mystique wasn't an alien or something.
Eileen looked frustrated, her brows knitted together as she talked, "We can't find what's wrong, not really. The tests have concluded there are no mind altering chemicals or anything of the sort in her body, for all intents and purposes she seems perfectly healthy and fine."
Justin scoffed, as they exited the elevator into the secret sub basement, "You wouldn't have finally called me here if that was all you had." He said, certain of that much. He already had an appointment in London, or he wouldn't even have come now. He had more important things to do than worry about Mystique.
"Dr. McCoy has been performing psychological tests that confirm that something is different, even if brain scans continue to show nothing." Eileen explained, taking them down a hallway towards the special cells, the ones built to be rather impossible to escape from for any normal or semi-normal being. "At this point he is certain it's nothing biological, or chemical, and that she is still herself for the most part, but he is also certain she is being influenced somehow." Eileen sighed, "At this point magic doesn't seem too farfetched."
Justin wanted to scoff at that. He was not a fan of magic, one of the reasons he had not bothered to claim any for himself. The world of beings like Dormammu can keep to themselves and leave him the physical world.
That said… Magic was unfortunately a possibility in this case. Which would be annoying, because it would mean someone was poking around Mystique with magic, and could be after him, or Magneto, or both.
"So I'm here to see if this 'effect' shows itself more clearly in my presence considering Mystique has consistently popped up near me." Justin concluded.
Eileen nodded, leading him into the room that looked into Mystique's cell. Dr McCoy, or as he was also called, Beast, stood before the two way glass, holding a clipboard, a white lab coat covering him.
"Ah, Mister Hammer, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He rumbled, his eyes never leaving the cell.
Justin nodded, coming to stand beside him, Domino stepping in close, eyes on the massive man beside him. "Dr McCoy, I'm pleased to have you working with me and my company, we're going to be able to do a lot for mutant kind." He said quietly, looking through the window.
"Why is she naked?" He asked right away, averting his eyes immediately, finding Eileen, who was looking away as well, cheeks rosy as she seemed to be breathing in heavily, looking uncomfortable.
Justin couldn't blame her, Mystique had taken her form after all and apparently refused to dress herself. He did give Domino a stern look as the woman immediately stepped closer to the glass to ogle the woman within.
Sometimes she could take her playfulness too far with Phantazia.
Dr McCoy ignored the byplay, humming in thought, as he watched the readings of a machine nearby. "As I thought, there is something there."
"What is it?" Eileen asked quickly, before Justin could.
"She's had a spike in her brain just from the mere presence of Mister Hammer." Dr McCoy said, watching the readouts, "Whatever is affecting her behavior, does have some sort of tie to you, I just can't seem to isolate it."
"Magic, perhaps?" Justin allowed, grimacing.
Dr McCoy didn't immediately disregard it as he'd thought, but perhaps the X-Men had run into magic users before. "Perhaps," He admitted, he pushed up his glasses, glancing at Justin, "She might receive better care at Xavier's institute."
Justin thought it over, "I'll see what I can swing, Magneto will surely have something to say too, but either way, if she's focused on me, I will get her out of my company, and my presence."
Eileen looked pained, as she looked back to the cell, Justin noticed and gave her a tight smile, "Xavier will be able to poke her better then we can." He told her.
He'd come here to see what his presence would do, but he would avoid actually letting her know he was here, if there was some sort of magical trap or something involved, he wanted no part of it. Xavier could deal with it. They had a meeting already scheduled anyway.
"I'll notify you when I have an answer." He said clippedly to Dr McCoy, who likely would contact Xavier anyway before Justin even left the building.
He had more meetings, he couldn't afford to spend his time on someone he'd rather left him alone for the rest of his life.
And… It seemed like he'd have to put - recruit a magic user - on the list after all.
Stupid wizards…
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Prime Minister's office, London.
"Mister Prime Minister, a pleasure to see you again!" Justin lied as he stepped into the office, shaking the hand of the 'most powerful man' in Britain.
Heh. As if.
"Justin, always a pleasure, please call me Gordon." Gordon Brown lied right back, his hand spending the minimum amount of time necessary in the handshake, before the man returned behind his desk. "Can I offer you anything to drink?"
Justin shook his head, sinking into the chair in front of the desk, "No thank you, Gordon, here for business only today, I'm afraid."
Gordon nodded slowly, "And what business is that today, Justin? Have you come to respond in person to our request for Arc reactor priority?"
Justin smiled affably, "That's always a possibility, but I have many irons in the fire right now, Gordon. Britain might be rather behind in the queue."
Oh, he did not like that. Justin thought with an inward chuckle as Gordon Brown's face soured almost imperceptibly.
"Is that so? It's a damn shame to be hearing that, is there anything we can do?" Gordon asked, seasoned enough politician to see when the beginning of horse trading was upon him.
Justin nodded genially, "Yes, there is. You see the European Union is being a damn hassle with all these monopoly and antitrust laws and what have you, it's very inconvenient to my business."
Gordon splayed his hands out, "I'm but one voice in the EU, Justin… There's only so much I can do."
Justin smirked, "Ah, but I'm not asking you to intercede with the European Union, Gordon."
There was silence in the office for a moment as Gordon parsed that, looking Justin over critically.
"What then, are you asking for?" He queried.
"Ignore them." Justin said winningly.
"Pardon me?"
"Ignore them, take my business, let there be arc power everywhere across Britain, let my other companies profligate, and ignore any sanctions they might threaten you with for ignoring their attempts to strong arm me." Justin explained, a smirk ever present on his face as he relaxed in his chair, bullying the Prime Minister of a major country.
Because the opposite was hidden underneath his offer. Deny him - and see all that business disappear. While he'd try this again, with another country.
There were plenty of counties in the European Union. One of them would bite.
With the sour look on Gordon Brown's face, he was well aware of the vice he'd just been put in.
"The European Union will not be pleased to put it lightly, if I go against their resolution and their stance against allowing you full access." Gordon said with a hint of anger in his voice, "You're picking a fight here, Justin…"
"A fight I can't lose." Justin said with no concern in his voice, "Whatever they'll threaten to sanction you with won't cost more then the money you'll make off my businesses, not to mention the sanctions will never happen, because the other countries will see you ignoring the resolution and profiting - and they'll follow."
The self assurance in Justin's voice seemed to calm the Prime Minister. Or maybe it was the fact he was in fact a politician and could see the same result happening.
He'd just have to survive the six months to a year of rocky waters until it all fell apart and Justin would gain full access to European markets, no antitrust laws impeding him.
"Should I go speak to France instead…" He asked leadingly.
From the scowl on the Prime Minister's face. He knew he'd won.
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New York, 3 days later.
If anything showed how he'd climbed to a top position in the world of powerful men, it was this meeting.
Three men sitting in a conference room, two of them able to decapitate the United States of America if they so choose. And one man that held no significant personal power - yet still forced the two others to pay attention.
Not that Justin couldn't decapitate the country as well if he so chose, it would just be a little slower than the other two. And at least he had some fashion sense and propriety. Xavier had shown up with his X displayed literally everywhere, and Magneto showed up with his helmet and cape and everything - honestly he felt like he was at a comic con.
Xavier had already been sitting in the room, calm as could be when Justin had arrived, Domino and Phantazia joining the X-Men guards sitting in the lobby. His wheelchair displayed the two large X's across the wheels, and even the man's navy tie, of course, displaying them as well.
Yes, we get it, you're Professor X, kudos. Justin thought, annoyed at the ridiculousness of superheroes and villains.
He wasn't nearly as campy about everything, he didn't even do maniacal laughter or monologuing… Much.
Magneto had just entered the room shortly thereafter, and hadn't even bothered to bring any of the brotherhood with him, in an obvious statement move - you can't do anything to me - he was saying, as he'd swept into the room dramatically, his cape swirling like a Severus Snape cosplayer.
"Well… You called this meeting, Hammer. What is it that you want from us?" Erik Lensheer said dryly, only briefly glancing at Charles as he sat down.
Both Justin and Erik wore their respective defenses against mental intrusion, neither one of them the trusting sort. Justin at least could say his was tastefully done and hidden - much better than a full helmet.
How on earth had the X-Men and Magneto entered the building without drawing all the attention? Justin had enough problems getting around without everyone recognizing him, and he wasn't wearing spandex or a cape.
Of course… Silly question. Justin glanced at Charles - it's not mindrape if you're a hero - Xavier, who likely blanked out the memory of them arriving from anyone in a two block radius.
"Well, before we can get into the particulars, I need to ask, did you steal the Iliad?" Justin said, his dry tone indicating his skepticism, pushing the matter of Charles' unethical behavior away, to focus on the man capable of throwing the building they were in to the moon.
Hopefully having Domino and Phantazia nearby might prevent anything like that. And at least the Vanko's had managed to craft temporary mind protection implants based off Justin's implants. They wouldn't melt their brains… As long as they only wore them for a few hours, just long enough to not have Xavier snoop around - 'heroically'.
Erik scoffed, raising an incredulous eyebrow as he looked over at Charles. "Really, this nonsense is why you advocated so heavily for my presence, Charles?"
Charles simply smiled, tilting his head softly, "It's a simple question to answer, Erik, and then we can get down to our real agenda."
Justin watched with narrowed eyes, his glasses recording and analyzing every tick and voice cadence as Erik furrowed his brows, seemingly thrown by Charles' easy going acquiescence.
"So easily you bend now, Charles. I find myself… Disappointed." Erik murmured, fingers tapping the conference table slowly. His eyes turning to Justin, only cold distaste visible in a face that could have been carved out of granite. "If I had taken a nuclear capable vessel, Hammer, I would not have failed at hitting my target." He drawled, "Now… Do not waste my time…" He warned, lips turned downwards.
"Erik…" Charles warned softly, when some metal clips on the curtains were forcefully remade into thin needles in a flex of power, rotating in the air above them, facing Justin.
Justin kept perfectly still, not showing any sign that he was bothered, he had known things would be tense, but he believed Magneto wouldn't touch him, not now - not with how much fire he'd face, and not with Xavier in the room.
Besides, needles might hurt, but they wouldn't actually do anything to an Extremis enhanced person - and Magneto must know that.
It was all posturing. Magneto would have done better as a wrestler then a revolutionary, Justin thought with a silent scoff.
"Soft, Charles, you've gone unbelievably soft." Erik said coldly, the needles not removed, but not doing anything but floating there, either.
"I prefer to think I've found a better perspective." Charles said mildly, folding his hands in front of him.
Erik loudly scoffed at that but didn't argue. Likely seeing it as a waste of time, as Charles would hardly change his mind. The both of them were equally stubborn and stuck in their ways. No wonder mutants were doomed without Justin's assistance…
Justin decided that this was the best he was going to get, and spoke up calmly. "Well, I didn't believe you had any involvement in that matter anyway, Mister Lensherr, but it settles things as far as I'm concerned." He smirked, feigning a level of comfort he didn't feel, "We're here to discuss a solution to the mutant revelation - the one that is eventually going to break."
Only through sheer inertia in the most powerful nations, and through Charles' tireless efforts - had it not already boiled over. With some help from SHIELD of all things.
Who knew they could be useful?
Only silence answered him however, neither Charles nor Erik speaking up, just staring at him, one judgmental, and one with an almost eager expression.
Justin cleared his throat, beginning his pitch, "Mutants will eventually be known to the entirety of humanity, and the important part about that is to not let the government be the one that controls the narrative." Justin shrugged lightly, leaning back, his eyes intent on Erik in particular, the one he really had to sell this to. "You'll always be a threat, that's unavoidable, because you are!" Justin said gesturing towards Erik, "You could destroy a country by your lonesome, no government is ever going to be comfortable with that."
Erik simply clicked his tongue, crossing his arms, "Which is why we can never coexist."
Justin shook his head, tapping the table lightly, "That's where you're wrong, you've been going about all of this wrong. Because it doesn't matter what the government thinks…" He held a hand up, stopping Erik from replying, the leader of the Brotherhood's face darkening at the gesture, but he held his tongue. "Charles… Answer me this, what do the governments of the world truly fear…?"
Charles looked amused, "Many things, Mister Hammer, but truly, the one thing a government can not truly control and therefore fear - is its people."
Erik shook his head, a look of disgust flashing across his features, "You're naive if you think I'll fall for this pathetic argument, people," He sneered, putting emphasis on the word, "Are stupid and reactive and fully under the yoke of authority."
A bitter smile played on his lips for a moment, "I would know more than anyone, people will always follow the will of the vilest most despicable humans."
"Yes, people are stupid in any large number. And whether a democracy or a tyranny, eventually people get their way, through force, peaceful protest, elections - whatever way they can - they ultimately manage to bend governments to their will." Justin said, "Oh, don't get me wrong, they never win. Not truly, the government just repurposes their goal and makes it theirs. But that would work just the same in this instance." Justin lowered his voice slightly, speaking more solemnly, "World War 2 showed you one aspect yes, but it also showed you how it was then crushed, a new way brought forward. This could be true for mutants too."
Justin raised a hand, counting on his fingers, "Women, Blacks, Immigrants, Gays, I could go on, but it proves part of my point as it is, they all had no or few rights, and slowly managed to achieve some form of coexistence, bending the government through sheer peer pressure, and that's just using America as the most recent example."
"It would not be as simple for mutants, people in the know fear us to a different level. Once revealed, we would face persecution from those that stand against anything different then their perceived norm." Charles admitted, drawing a startled look from Erik as he, to all appearances, stepped in on his side of the argument.
Charles smiled again, patting his long time friend's arm, "He is, however, right in the essence of his argument, Erik." His face turned pensive, "We will never win over the governments and agencies of the world, neither by peace nor war." He warned, Erik paying rapt attention to his words, far more than he had to Justin's. "If we can win quick acceptance with the public, the governments will bend, not willing to go all out in a fight that will bring their careers down, or in the case of the more… Singular governments… Enspirit a revolution."
Justin took over immediately as Charles stopped speaking, not letting Erik rebut with his no doubt practiced and knee jerk reactions. "I currently have the world's attention, they adore me, love me and my products… If mutants were to be revealed as helping me make the world a better place, the reaction from the public would begin in a place of curiosity and faith, and snowball from there long before the warhawks of the world can put a stop to it."
Not everyone, not even close, but if they could preempt the bigots and win over the majority before anyone even realizes there's a fight - the battle will be half won. Justin thought, knowing he had the capability to fight just such a fight, and win.
Erik did not look convinced in the slightest, annoying Justin, who continued to push, some more insistence leaking into his tone, "I've already begun the process to take over several UN aid organizations due to their breakdown. It is the perfect place to introduce mutants through - helping people in Africa, the continent so willing to assist me I could murder someone on the street and the politicians would insist nothing happened, refusing to miss out on my business for such a silly thing as murder. We introduce mutants there, they will be accepted in an entire continent." Justin hammered home, slamming a hand on the table for emphasis, leaning forward. "My name lent to the cause, mutants not fighting or causing damage - but helping their fellow man, good press constantly pushing against any negativity the conservative parts of the world will screech."
Justin pointed at Charles, not willing to slow down for even a second, Erik needed to be onboard. "Charles will lend me Storm to lead the new UNESCO - she's photogenic, a native, can help control the weather to prevent starvation of children. You won't get a better poster woman for mutant kind. We will control the narrative. Tiberius Stone owes me one, or he will once I've delivered a favor he wants - the western media will follow what I say!"
It would if Tiberius wanted extremis… The media mogul had seemed very interested after the meeting in Bern, Justin hadn't delivered yet, but he would if he could get the media dancing to his tune.
Charles grasped Erik's hand, looking solemn, "Please, Erik, this could change everything, just attempt it this way first, what harm do you stand to gain?"
Justin thought that was hopelessly naive to say, because Magneto's cause could stand to lose quite a lot, however it served his purposes so he supposed he couldn't complain about Charles' idealistic view.
Erik did not look appeased, but he softened slightly at Charles' touch. "I believe this will fail." He said sternly, "You both too easily assume humanity will follow your guidance like a pack of rats led by the pied piper…"
The bitter smile and pure distaste on Erik's face stopped any response as silence took over the conference room for a short period, Erik closing his eyes in thought, seemingly coming to a decision, before he rose up, waving two fingers carelessly, reforming and reattaching the metal clips, "You do as you wish, I will not interfere, but neither will I assist. Your cause is doomed to failure, humanity does not learn." He said heavily.
Charles smiled brilliantly, apparently seeing more positives than Justin had in the statement, the leader of the X-Men turning away from Erik, addressing Justin, "Storm would be delighted to help, and any help the X-Men can give to assist you in this, you shall have."
Justin eyed Magneto, who still hadn't left, lingering by Charles' side. "I need only that both of you, or just Charles, if you insist on not assisting us, Magneto… Spread the word, let everyone know that Hammer industries is hiring mutants, that it is a fair deal, protected, good pay, and that they'll be only helping people and building goodwill across the world."
And by pure happenstance of course, they'll also be incredibly loyal to the man that is making all this happen… Justin thought, not seeing too many difficulties with beginning to build a good reputation for mutants with Storm as the poster girl as head of UNESCO.
Sex sells, and hot is always hot. Using Storm as the poster girl for mutanthood would help, having mutants be seen helping with construction, relief work, and business as usual - instead of punching people while in spandex - would ensure they wouldn't be easily vilified.
Oh, there would always be those that tried, there were still KKK and other idiots around who still vilified people based on moronic reasons.
Justin inwardly shook his head at the foolishness of racism of any kind to begin with. When there were so many idiots to hate, why hate based on mutation or skin color? Although he supposed the idiots had to have someone else to hate, as most humans did not in fact believe in hating themselves.
"I will not stop anyone from joining." Erik said dramatically, swishing his cape around him as he made to leave.
Justin knew that anyone from the brotherhood that joined him would likely be a spy, no doubt it would be the same for the X-Men, but that's why he would use them for charity and outreach or construction and similar jobs - nothing important basically. It would be good PR and slowly position him as the largest benefactor of mutant kind.
Most mutants weren't X-Men or Brotherhood after all. He'd gobble them up for his own purposes.
Charles doubtlessly knew, but seemed to accept it as the necessary evil of doing business. Justin wasn't sure how much Erik knew or saw, but he had something else they needed to speak on, so he couldn't let the man leave yet. He raised his hand, "Sorry to stop you, but we really need to speak about Mystique."
Magneto slowly turned towards him, eyes narrowed, and yes, it was Magneto now, not Erik. Justin could feel it, like a pressure in the air, all bearing down on him.
Comic villain he might be, with all the foibles attached - but the man had a presence that was impossible to ignore.
"What about Mystique?" He queried mildly, taking a step forward, an aura of imminent violence around him.
"Erik…" Charles said warningly, turning his wheelchair around so he could face his old friend, "This is important."
Magneto tilted his head slightly, eyeing Charles with a stern gaze even as he kept Justin in his peripheral vision, "And you know as well? What is your game here, Charles?" There was a definite threat in his voice now.
Justin thought Charles was supposed to be good at talking to Magneto?
There was a slight vibration in the air, and Justin perhaps was imagining the slight groan of the building, even as he was well aware of the many many girders of steel in a building of this size. He hoped he was imagining it…
"Mystique was caught infiltrating Mister Hammer's London headquarters, and subsequently displayed concerning behavior when interrogated." Charles explained, raising a hand soothingly, "I sent Dr. McCoy to help investigate the matter, and there is definitely something wrong with her…" Charles sounded pained the longer he spoke about her, like an old wound was being prodded.
Justin didn't overly care, as long as the presence of the old man could prevent Magneto from ripping his London office apart to grab the compromised mutant. Also, what the fuck Charles? That's the best you can do?
Magneto did not look like he quite believed any of what he'd been told, sending a scathing look at Charles, "Convenient that she's so mysteriously needed to be examined by your people all of a sudden Charles, you've never gotten over the fact she choose my side, have you?"
Justin cut in before this could evolve into the ever present gay drama between the two men - that ultimately only killed plenty of young mutants and wrecked mutant kind - all so the two could continue to play kiss/kill. "You are welcome to see her and ascertain yourself what her condition is, I have no intention of holding on to her… Frankly I have enough to deal with, you can handle fixing her…" He offered, surprising the master of magnetism.
He obviously hadn't expected Justin to be so eager to get rid of her. Which showed that the man really hadn't been paying much attention to Mystique lately - because Justin really wanted her out, no matter how hot she was or how good the sex was - she was dangerous and a loose cannon, especially now.
Magneto nodded slowly, "I will see her." He agreed, turning his head slowly back to Charles, "We will." He ordered, with narrowed eyes and a sneer on his lips, the sneer only deepening as Charles genially nodded his head in agreement, refusing to argue and give in to what Magneto wanted - a fight.
Justin tapped the table ahead of him with a knuckle for good luck, before standing up, indicating he had nothing else to say about the meeting. "You can contact Phantazia for any particulars, she's heading back to the London office, so she'll handle any questions on Mystique or any necessary handover."
Seeing that Magneto and Charles were busy in a stare down, he simply walked out, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
Fucking stubborn old men… He thought as he waved for Domino and Phantazia to follow him, leaving the building as quickly as was seemly. Just in case Magneto decided to go ape shit. It wasn't very likely, but Justin just couldn't trust the man - he was self sabotaging to the extreme.
The important part of the meeting had simply been to ensure he wouldn't stand in the way, Charles' cooperation had already been guaranteed after all.
That and getting Mystique the fuck away from him, and his company. Whatever was wrong with her wasn't his business. Magneto could deal with it - she was his follower anyway.
"Eileen," He spoke up as they exited the building, gaining the blonde's attention, "I don't care if it's Xavier or Magneto, but get that woman out of my possession." He ordered. "They'll be meeting you in London, get custody settled!"
Eileen grimaced, but nodded reluctantly.
Justin didn't envy her the job, but that's why he paid a fortune for her services. He knew they were friends, but he could not have her sitting like a time bomb in his building.
If Mystique was going to blow up or something, he'd rather it happen to Magneto or Xavier than himself.
Preferably both at the same time.
Save him a headache.
Overpowered fucking assholes…
Why couldn't everyone be nice and reasonable like him.
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A few hours later, the Mayor's office, New York.
Justin was in the middle of wrapping the mayor around his finger when they were interrupted by an aide rushing into the office, looking like he'd seen a ghost.
"What is the meaning of this, Henderson?" The Mayor snapped, giving Justin an apologetic look.
Justin gave the aide an annoyed glance, but didn't think much of it as he leaned back in his chair, barely paying attention as the aide blabbered on towards the increasingly annoyed looking Mayor.
"Sir, it's Stark -" In the whispered conversation between the two, that one sentence was loud enough to get Justin's attention.
Justin bolted upright, "What was that about Stark?" He asked sharply, the man better not have gotten himself killed! He thought, feeling a stirring of something unpleasant in his gut.
He wanted the man to see all he'd wrought and feel tiny. To understand he was left forever behind a superior man - yet still be fighting the good fight as Iron Man, ready to sacrifice himself for the world, so that Justin could continue to conquer it. He can not be dead yet!
The aide, absolutely flustered at being spoken to by Justin, fumbled with a TV remote instead of answering, switching the wall mounted TV onto CNN.
Justin's mouth fell open as he stared, not believing his eyes.
"-due to the injuries and trauma I faced, I've decided that the man who I've trusted to run Stark industries all this time, would be a better man to run it going forward." Tony Stark said solemnly, standing at a podium surrounded by reporters, Obadiah Stane at his side, one hand on his shoulder.
Using his glasses to catalog everything, Justin found, to his uttermost shock, that every facial scan was a match. Injured, sure, but it was all authentically Tony Stark according to his software.
Tony Stark stood there, in front of the cameras, slightly pale and bruised, and with a wounded look, continuing to speak about how he had never been able to handle the pressures of being a CEO to begin with.
Justin's hands forcibly clenched around armchair, the wood creaking, that is not Tony fucking Stark! He'd never say any of this! He inwardly screamed, eyes glued on the screen. The Mayor and his aide both transfixed by the press conference.
"- I know due to concerns about my mental state, the transfer of the reins will not be immediate, I'll need to undergo evaluations, but even so, I want to be the first to congratulate my Godfather, and the man who'd really done the work around here to build the company to where it is…" Tony stepped back a step, so he could offer his hand to Obadiah Stane, who solemnly and seriously grasped it. "I give you the future CEO of Stane industries everyone!" Tony yelled out, to incessant camera flashes and shouting reporters.
Justin narrowed his eyes, almost biting through his lip as he stared with hatred at the screen. That was not Tony Stark. He didn't give a shit what his facial scan had said, obviously it could be fooled. Because Tony Stark did not just give his company to that lumbering ignoramus.
His thoughts ran rampant, how does he think he'll get away with this? Is Tony… Dead? No… Perhaps he's taking the opportunity, it's going to be almost impossible to dislodge him even if Tony comes back…
Justin had to face the possibility Tony was dead, he couldn't discard reality for flights of fancy. Obadiah Stane had made a move. Whether Tony was dead or not….
It was up to Justin to decide what he would do.
Either Tony came back to become Iron Man… Or he was dead…
Justin fished his phone out of his pocket, fingers almost trembling in rage.
Either way I will not allow that fool to piss on my victory by stealing his company from underneath him!
He dialed, snarling into the phone, beginning before it was even picked up, "Get my jet prepped for a flight to California, NOW!"
Whatever fool managed to impersonate you Stark… I'll rip him apart, limb to limb…
Only he was allowed to fuck Stark over, the man was his!
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