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Loeb's , a "neutral ground" where clandestine and even criminal elements hung out. There were strict rules for entering Loeb's : all weapons had to be removed, and you weren't allowed to bring your phone or pen with you. Peggy had to leave her purse and gun with the restaurant's greeter. Not just anyone could get into Loeb's Hotel ; it was a very exclusive membership. Peggy remembered the beginnings of Loeb's , starting out as simple safe houses before growing into the massive hotel chain it is today. It catered to government agents, Mafia families, even terrorist organizations, and self-proclaimed wealthy mutants—celebrities who wanted to keep their mutant status a secret.
"Your risotto, Ms. Kardashian-West," Peggy heard one of the servers say as she walked past a table.
The atmosphere and decor at Loeb's were luxurious: finely decorated walls, immaculate wooden chairs and tables, and a plush carpet. In the background, musicians played a soft orchestral melody. Peggy approached round table number 13, hers. She waited a few minutes, looking around. People were eating together, others were talking business. At either end of the room stood two identical brown-haired men, all wearing matching brown suits, green shirts, and pale yellow ties.
"Exits," Peggy only counted one exit, the one she came in through.
She looked up and saw the restaurant's observation room. It had a gold screen so thin that the manager's shadow was visible. He stood against the wall, and Peggy had no doubt he was watching her. The waiter came over with the glasses and wine, pouring hers. A few minutes later, the people Peggy had been waiting for came in. Justine Hammer was a beautiful twenty-nine-year-old redhead who already ran Hammer Industries . Her father, Justin, gave the company to her after her older brother, Justin Junior, proved incompetent. She kept the company afloat, but she wasn't Stark Industries.
Norman Osborn, on the other hand, followed closely behind Tony. The man had a unique hairstyle that Peggy struggled to describe; he remained perfectly calm in his green suit. They sat down and ordered food, following the usual procedure of greeting each other and asking how they were. Peggy said nothing about her family; Norman, however, told them that his son had just entered college. However, Justine remained silent, simply eating. When they were finished, they got down to business.
"Tony Stark is withdrawing his support for the agency," Peggy said.
"It shouldn't surprise us," Norman snorted.
I know it's not a surprise, but it sets us back. Stark had resources that his companies don't have.
"You mean we don't have it, Carter?" Justine asked.
"We don't need it," Norman said.
"You're a good scientist Norman, I consider myself good too, but Stark is something different, he's an inventor."
"Justine is right, their minds just don't work the same way his does. It's true that Stark is a loss, but even more so is the loss of his arc reactor, the infinite energy source he intends to give away," Peggy explained.
"I thought WDRA would want the global energy crisis solved," Norman said.
"No, thank you, or yes." Peggy ignored the waiter, refusing more wine. "Stark Industries will retain full control of the distribution of the ARC reactors. They'll conduct background checks on all their suppliers, so we can't buy them in bulk through a shell company or a middleman."
"What exactly are you trying to make him believe, Carter?" Justine asked.
Trask 's machines have a limited runtime. He tells me it can be fixed, but we don't have time to wait for him. There's also the matter of the factory: Stark built a huge arc reactor that powers his own factory. We need it; it's the only way we can produce them at a faster rate than Trask ," Peggy explained.
"If this is what we came here to discuss, I'm leaving, waiter!" Norman shouted at the young man.
"Where are you going?" Peggy asked.
"Do you have any idea how much of a stir you'll cause when people find out you're designing machines to monitor a percentage of the population? As dangerous as mutants are, Trask 's Sentinel idea is a PR disaster waiting to happen. This isn't a comic book Carter, where most people will say, 'Yeah, kill all the mutants,'" Norman explained, handing the waiter his credit card.
"Mutants are dangerous, and we're not creating Sentinels to kill them," Peggy said.
"What's protecting them? They're giant robots, Carter. You don't build them to protect people, you build them to kill them. Contact my office if you want to talk serious business."
The man thanked the waiter before leaving the restaurant. Justine waited until the man had left before leaning across the table and whispering something to Peggy.
"I think I know how to solve your little problem," he said.
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