Stark Industries Headquarters – Press Conference
The Rolls-Royce pulled up to the entrance amid a sea of cameras and reporters. Obadiah Stane emerged from the building, arms spread wide, his practiced smile firmly in place.
"Here he is!" Obadiah announced to the crowd. "Tony Stark, back from the dead!"
He opened the car door himself, playing the role of relieved mentor perfectly. As Tony stepped out, Obadiah pulled him into a tight embrace, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Tony."
They separated. Obadiah gripped Tony's shoulders, examining him with theatrical concern. "I thought I'd have to visit you at the hospital."
Tony glanced back at Pepper, still in the car. "No hospital. I'm fine."
"Let me look at you properly," Obadiah insisted, hands still on Tony's shoulders.
Tony gently removed them. "Press conference first. We can catch up later."
Obadiah's smile never wavered. "Of course. This way."
They entered the building together, waving to reporters. Obadiah worked the crowd like a politician. "Welcome, everyone! Thank you for coming!"
Pepper followed at a distance, staying outside the main press area. Her smile was genuine, Tony was home, alive, and apparently determined to make some kind of statement. Whatever came next, they'd handle it together.
"Ms. Potts?"
Pepper turned. A man in a dark suit stood beside her, generic enough to blend into any government agency.
"Yes?"
"Agent Phil Coulson." He extended a business card. "Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division or SHIELD. I was hoping we could speak for a moment."
Pepper glanced at the card, then back at the stage where Tony was being positioned. "I'm not here for interviews. If you have questions, wait for the press conference."
"I'm not a reporter," Coulson said patiently. "We're an independent agency that handles, "
"The Defense Department, FBI, and CIA have all contacted us already," Pepper interrupted, her professional smile cooling. "Add your name to the list. I'll schedule something."
"We'd specifically like to discuss Smith Doyle," Coulson continued. "The man who rescued Mr. Stark."
Pepper's expression hardened. "I'll arrange a meeting between you and Mr. Stark. But not today."
"Of course." Coulson's pleasant demeanor never cracked. "Thank you for your time."
He melted back into the crowd as Pepper returned her attention to the stage.
At the podium, Obadiah was attempting to deliver prepared remarks about Tony's safe return. But Tony, seated below the stage, had other ideas.
"Hey, everyone?" Tony called out. "Can you all sit down?"
Reporters glanced at each other, confused. Tony gestured toward the floor. "Seriously, sit. That way you can see me, and I can be more casual. No standing on ceremony."
The media personnel hesitated, then began lowering themselves, some sitting cross-legged, others crouching, a few simply kneeling. It created an oddly intimate atmosphere, more living room conversation than corporate press event.
Obadiah descended from the podium, settling beside Tony with visible uncertainty about where this was headed.
Rhodey arrived late, squeezing in beside Pepper near the back. "What's he doing?" he whispered.
"I have no idea," Pepper admitted, her voice tight with apprehension.
Tony looked at Obadiah, his expression softening. "It's good to see you, Obie."
Obadiah placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, returning the smile. For a moment, they looked like family, uncle and nephew, reunited after trauma.
Then Tony's expression shifted, becoming distant. "I never got to say goodbye to my father. Didn't get to see him one last time before he died." His voice dropped, contemplative. "There's a question I've wanted to ask him for years."
The room fell silent.
"I want to know what he thought about the weapons business," Tony continued. "Whether he ever struggled with it. Had doubts. Or if he was just the fearless visionary the media always portrayed."
He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I was recently forced to consider what our weapons actually do. I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to protect them. Weapons designed in my workshops, built in my factories, sold under my name."
His jaw tightened. "I realized I've become part of a system that's comfortable with zero accountability. And I can't do that anymore."
A reporter raised his hand. Tony nodded. "Yes, you."
"Mr. Stark, what exactly happened to you in Afghanistan?"
Tony stood slowly, his entire body language changing, no longer casual, but resolved. "I had what you might call an awakening. I realized that I can contribute more to this world by not producing instruments of death."
He took a breath. "Therefore, effective immediately, I am shutting down Stark Industries' weapons manufacturing division."
Chaos erupted.
Reporters shouted questions simultaneously. Camera flashes strobed. Pepper's hand flew to her mouth in shock. Rhodey's face went carefully blank, the expression of a military officer processing a catastrophic strategic shift.
Obadiah surged to his feet, gripping Tony's arm. "Tony, "
Tony continued over the noise. "Until I can determine a better direction for the company, a direction consistent with American interests and global humanitarian concerns, weapons production ends today."
He turned toward the exit. "I'm sure you'll all have fascinating headlines."
Obadiah practically lunged for the microphone as Tony walked away. "The important news here is that Tony is back! Alive and well! We'll be discussing the company's future direction internally, and we'll communicate our decisions through proper channels in due time, "
But the damage was done. The reporters were already filing their stories, typing frantically on phones and tablets. S
TARK INDUSTRIES ENDS WEAPONS PRODUCTION would be the headline within minutes.
Tony disappeared backstage without looking back.
Fraternity Headquarters – Smith's Office
Smith had just returned from the laboratory when Fox burst through his door, tablet in hand, moving faster than he'd seen her move outside of combat situations.
"It happened," she said breathlessly. "Faster than expected."
Smith raised an eyebrow. "Elaborate."
"Tony Stark just announced Stark Industries is shutting down weapons manufacturing. Effective immediately. He literally said 'effective immediately' at the press conference."
She pulled up footage on her tablet, Tony standing before a seated crowd of reporters, making his declaration with absolute conviction.
"He moved too fast," Fox continued, frustration creeping into her voice. "We were in negotiations with four more lending institutions. Two of them signed before the announcement hit, we secured those shares. But the other two backed out the moment the news broke. One literally tore up the contract mid-signature."
She set the tablet down harder than necessary. "If he'd waited three more days, we could have shorted over a billion dollars' worth of stock. Instead, we're capped at what we've already borrowed."
Smith absorbed that. He'd known Tony would move quickly, the man was impulsive when morally certain, but this was faster than even the movie timeline suggested.
Then again, being rescued by a flying man with a tail and a shape-shifting cat probably accelerated his existential crisis.
"Some media outlets are speculating he suffered head trauma during captivity," Fox added. "The stock's going to crater when markets open tomorrow."
"How much did we manage to borrow?" Smith asked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGaruda
You'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~