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"Marcus, I need you and Pepper to do something for me," Tony said, appearing in the workshop doorway one afternoon.
Marcus looked up from the holographic diagnostic display he'd been studying. Something in Tony's tone made him pay attention. "What's up?"
Tony descended the stairs, pulling a USB drive from his pocket. "I need you to go to Stark Industries headquarters. Get into Obadiah's office. Hack his mainframe and copy all the recent transaction materials."
Marcus straightened. "You want evidence."
"I want proof," Tony corrected. "Something concrete that ties him to the illegal weapons sales. Bank records, shipping manifests, communications—anything that shows he's been selling my tech to terrorists." His jaw tightened. "I've spent the last few days thinking about this. About Obadiah, about what he's done, about... everything. And I've decided I can't just let this go."
Marcus took the USB drive, feeling its weight. "Have you really made up your mind about this?"
Tony was silent for a moment, staring at nothing. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "He was like a father to me, Marcus. For twenty years, he was there when my own father wasn't. Board meetings, company events, just... life." He looked up, meeting Marcus's eyes. "But he's been selling weapons behind my back. Using my company, my name, my designs to arm terrorists. The same kind of people who held us in that cave." His expression hardened. "I need to know the full extent of it. How long it's been going on. Who else is involved. So yeah. I've made up my mind."
"Then I'll get you the evidence," Marcus said. "When do you need this done?"
"Today if possible. Obadiah's at a board meeting until five, so you've got a window." Tony pulled out his phone. "I'll call Pepper, tell her you're coming. She can get you into his office."
After Tony made the arrangements, Marcus headed to the garage. As he grabbed the keys to Tony's Ferrari, he felt that familiar presence at the edge of his awareness—the system interface waiting to be accessed.
He slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, letting his mind slip into that space between thought and reality where the system existed.
[Movie Plundering System]
Host: Marcus Reed
Age: 20
Items: NZT-49 (33 tablets remaining), Toxin silver needles, miscellaneous supplies
Abilities: Enhanced cognition (NZT-49 dependent)
Origin Points: 6
Status: Time travel cooldown complete. Ready for deployment.
Marcus's hands tightened on the steering wheel. The cooldown was over. Had been over for two days now. He could leave anytime he wanted—jump to another world, gain new abilities, escape any threat that emerged here.
The freedom was intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure.
He'd figured out where that sixth origin point had come from too. Yinsen. In the original timeline—the one Marcus remembered from watching Iron Man in another life—Yinsen had died in that cave. Sacrificed himself so Tony could escape. But Marcus had changed that. Saved him. And the system had rewarded him for altering someone's fate.
His NZT supply was more concerning. Thirty-three pills left. At his current rate of consumption—one every three to four days—he had maybe four months before he ran out completely. He could ration them, stretch the supply further, but that meant spending more time at normal human intelligence levels.
And in a world with SHIELD watching his every move, with Obadiah planning who-knew-what, with everything from the MCU still ahead... normal might not be enough.
He'd already decided on his next destination. The Chronicle world—three teenagers gaining telekinetic powers from a mysterious crystalline object. If Marcus could acquire that power, genuine telekinesis with flight and force fields, he'd have a major advantage. Plus, it was relatively safe compared to other options. No alien invasions, no apocalyptic scenarios.
Just had to survive whatever was about to happen here first.
As Marcus drove toward Los Angeles, he checked his mirrors habitually. There—a black sedan, three cars back. A white SUV keeping pace in the right lane. And unless he was mistaken, that motorcycle weaving through traffic had been behind him since Malibu.
SHIELD. Almost certainly. They'd been watching Tony's house for weeks, documenting everyone who came and went. Coulson had been trying to meet with Tony repeatedly, all attempts deflected.
Marcus let them follow. With the system cooldown complete, he had options now. If things got dangerous, he could simply disappear. Jump to another world. Vanish from their surveillance completely.
The thought was comforting.
Stark Industries headquarters gleamed in the afternoon sun, all glass and steel and corporate power. Marcus parked the Ferrari—Tony's car would be recognized, which helped sell his legitimacy—and made his way inside.
Security waved him through after a quick ID check. Tony had put him on the approved list weeks ago.
He found Pepper on the executive floor, looking professional and purposeful as always, tablet in hand.
"Marcus," she said, a slight frown creasing her forehead. "Tony said you'd be coming by. Something about needing files from Obadiah's office?"
"Technical specifications," Marcus confirmed, using the cover story they'd agreed on. "Tony's working on some new designs and wants to reference older projects. He thinks some files got moved to Obadiah's system during a reorganization."
Pepper's frown deepened. "That's unusual. Why would technical files be on Obadiah's personal computer?"
Marcus pulled out his phone. "Here, Tony said if you had questions, you should talk to him directly." He dialed and handed her the phone.
Pepper took it, stepping aside slightly. Marcus could only hear her side of the conversation, but her expression shifted from skeptical to concerned to quietly angry. When she handed the phone back, her jaw was set.
"Alright," she said quietly. "I'll get you into his office. But I'm coming with you."
They walked through the executive floor in silence. When they reached Obadiah's corner office with its floor-to-ceiling windows and expensive furniture, Pepper used her access card to unlock the door.
"Make it quick," she said, glancing at her watch. "Board meeting should wrap up in about forty-five minutes."
Marcus sat at Obadiah's desk and plugged in the USB drive. The screen lit up with a password prompt.
"Naturally," Marcus muttered, launching the decryption program Tony had loaded onto the drive. Lines of code scrolled across the screen, probing the security, testing combinations.
The progress bar ticked upward. Ten percent. Twenty percent. Forty percent.
"How long is this going to take?" Pepper asked nervously.
"Not long. Tony's software is good."
Eighty percent. Ninety percent.
ACCESS GRANTED.
The desktop appeared, folders neatly organized. Marcus navigated to the financial records, and what he found made his stomach sink.
Hundreds of files. Transaction records spanning two years. Shipping manifests. Communications with buyers. And every single one showed weapons—Stark Industries weapons—being sold to organizations that should never have had access to them.
The Ten Rings. Various warlords. Paramilitary groups. Shell companies that were obvious fronts.
And every transaction was approved and signed by Obadiah Stane.
"Oh my God," Pepper breathed, reading over his shoulder. "This is... Tony was right. Obadiah's been selling weapons. Illegally. For years."
Marcus clicked on a video file. Security footage appeared—grainy but clear enough. A warehouse. Obadiah meeting with armed men, money changing hands, weapons being loaded onto trucks.
Another file. Audio recording. Obadiah's voice negotiating prices for missiles with someone speaking heavily accented English.
"We need to copy all of this," Pepper said, her voice shaking slightly. "This could put him in prison for—"
"A very long time," Marcus finished. He initiated the copy protocol. Files began transferring to the USB drive.
The progress bar crawled across the screen. Twenty percent. Forty percent. Sixty percent.
Pepper paced behind him, occasionally glancing at the files still open on screen. "I can't believe he would do this. I've worked with Obadiah for years. He always seemed so... supportive."
"He was supporting himself," Marcus said quietly, watching the progress bar. Eighty percent.
"But why?" Pepper's voice cracked slightly. "The company was doing well. Tony trusted him. Why risk everything for—"
"Money," Marcus said simply. "Or power. Maybe both." Ninety percent.
TRANSFER COMPLETE.
Marcus ejected the USB drive and quickly cleared the browser history, wiped any evidence of access. Thirty seconds of rapid typing, and then—done.
"Let's go," he said, standing up.
They left Obadiah's office, Pepper carefully locking the door behind them, and walked back toward the elevators.
Marcus handed Pepper the USB drive. "I'm heading back to Tony's. You should get this to the authorities."
"I will," Pepper said, gripping it tightly. "I'll call the police right away."
Marcus nodded and headed for the parking garage. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that they'd just set something in motion. Something dangerous.
And somewhere in Los Angeles, Obadiah Stane was about to learn that his secrets were no longer secret.
Pepper stood in the Stark Industries lobby, phone in hand, trying to decide who to call. The police? The FBI? This was so far beyond normal corporate crime that she wasn't even sure who had jurisdiction.
"Miss Potts."
She turned to see Agent Coulson standing near the entrance, looking calm and professional as always.
"Agent Coulson," she said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you, actually," he replied with a slight smile. "We had an agreement, remember? About meeting to discuss certain matters?"
Pepper had been putting Coulson off for weeks on Tony's behalf, but now... now maybe working with his agency made sense. They had resources. Authority. And with what she'd just discovered about Obadiah, Tony was going to need all the help he could get.
"I remember," she said slowly. "And actually, I think now might be a very good time to talk."
"I'm glad to hear it," Coulson said. "My car is outside. Shall we?"
Pepper hesitated for just a moment, then nodded. "Let's go."
Meanwhile, across the city, Obadiah Stane sat in traffic when his phone buzzed with an alert from his office security system.
He pulled up the notification, frowning. Two people had accessed his computer less than an hour ago. The security footage showed their faces clearly.
Pepper Potts. And Marcus Reed.
Obadiah's jaw clenched as he checked the access logs. They'd copied files. Everything from his private transactions folder.
"Damn it," he muttered.
They knew. Tony knew. Which meant he was out of time.
Obadiah had been heading back to the office, but that didn't matter now. The office was compromised. Everything he'd built, all his carefully laid plans—blown wide open.
He needed to act. Fast.
He made a sharp U-turn, ignoring the honking horns, and headed toward the Pacific Coast Highway. Toward Malibu. Toward Tony's villa.
If Tony wanted to destroy everything Obadiah had worked for, then Tony would pay the price.
The arc reactor in Tony's chest—the original prototype—was powerful enough to solve all of Obadiah's problems. His engineers had been building something from the Mark I fragments they'd recovered from Afghanistan. Something bigger. Stronger. But it needed a power source that could handle the load.
Tony's reactor would do nicely.
Twenty years of partnership. Twenty years of being second place to a genius who'd inherited everything while Obadiah had to earn every scrap of respect.
No more.
Obadiah pressed down on the accelerator, racing toward the coast, toward the confrontation that had been building for months.
Time to take what should have been his all along.
[End of Chapter 24]
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