The dust hadn't even settled over the classified crater in the Nevada desert before Tony Stark moved for the jugular. He was a master of information, an aggrieved patriot and a victim with the world's most powerful legal team.
The courtroom in Washington D.C. felt less like a trial and more like a funeral for the Pentagon's top brass. Tony sat at the plaintiff's table, looking impeccably sharp in a dark suit and his expression a mask of weary resolve. The gallery behind him was packed with international journalists, their cameras flashing like a silent storm.
Tony's legal team projected the "Micro Drone" footage onto a massive screen for the jury to see. The courtroom watched in horrified silence as high-ranking Generals were seen shaking hands with the "escaped" fugitive Obadiah Stane, standing proudly over a weaponized suit built from stolen Stark blueprints in an illegal black site facility.
"My client is suing the United States government for a state sponsored assassination attempt on a private citizen," his lead attorney announced, her voice ringing with righteous fury. "The Department of Defense actively colluded with the man who tried to kill him. They broke the social contract of this country."
The "Trojan" reactor's catastrophic explosion provided the irrefutable forensic nail in the coffin. The residue left behind matched a specific "signature" Tony had registered with the patent office months prior… a proprietary alloy he had "developed" for clean energy research.
By the end of the week, the Secretary of Defense was forced to resign in disgrace. The rogue generals were facing court martial. And the United States military was ordered to pay a settlement so massive, it threatened to de-fund an entire carrier strike group.
Back at the Stark penthouse in New York, the chaos of the world seemed miles away. The relationship between Tony and Pepper had shifted. The caffeine fueled energy of "Boss and Assistant" had smoothed into something deeper, built on a foundation of shared secrets and mutual protection.
Tony was standing by the floor to ceiling window, watching the city lights come on, when Pepper walked in with two glasses of scotch, the amber liquid catching the last of the evening light. She walked right up into his personal space, her presence a familiar comfort and handed him a glass.
"The lawyers say the settlement is finalized," she said softly. "You just dismantled the most powerful military on Earth without throwing a single punch."
Tony turned, his eyes softening as they met hers. "I didn't do it for the money, Pep. I did it because they thought they could take what was ours."
Pepper smiled, a warm expression that didn't reach her face often during the weapons manufacturing days. "'Ours'? Since when do you share your toys?"
"Since I realized that I'm not the one running this show," Tony said, stepping a fraction closer. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing her arm, a simple touch. "You stayed when you should have run. You risked everything. You're the only reason the 'Turtle' came out of his shell."
Pepper leaned her head against his shoulder, a gesture of trust. "Just don't make me regret it, Tony. No more 'suicide missions' to Afghanistan without a heads up, okay?"
"Deal," he whispered.
The peaceful moment was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. A woman entered, carrying a stack of legal briefs. She was striking, with auburn hair pulled back in a severe but elegant style and an air of lethal competence.
"Mr. Stark, Miss Potts," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "The new non disclosure agreements for the R&D department are ready for your signature."
"Thank you, Natalie," Pepper said, stepping away from Tony and seamlessly shifting back into work mode. "Tony, this is Natalie Rushman from Legal. She's been a godsend during the transition."
Tony's Eye Boy vision flared for a split second, a reflex he was still learning to control. The world of the boardroom dissolved into a glowing map of biometrics and skeletal structures.
As "Natalie" walked across the room, the data streaming into Tony's mind was impossible. Her bone density was twice that of a normal woman her size and her muscle fibers were woven with a high tensile strength that suggested significant biological enhancement. She moved with a kinetic grace that reminded him of a predator.
She's had a variant of the serum, Tony thought, his mind racing. Or something very… very close to it.
Then his vision scanned lower. Beneath the expensive fabric of her high end business skirt, his thermal sensors picked up the distinct signature of a compact Glock 26 holstered against her inner thigh.
"Natalie, is it?" Tony asked, his eyes lingering a second too long as he leaned back against the window. "You have an impressive resume. Triple major from Georgetown, fluent in five languages and apparently a black belt in 'getting things done.' But it's rare to find a legal assistant with the muscle density of a middleweight champion and a concealed carry permit for the office."
Natasha Romanoff's heart rate remained an eerie 60 beats per minute… a dead giveaway of elite level training.
She offered a polite smile. "It's a dangerous world for a woman in corporate litigation, Mr. Stark. I like to be prepared."
"I'm sure you do," Tony replied, a dangerous glint in his eye. He knew exactly what she was. No one with that level of enhancement and training works in a legal department unless they are being paid to watch a high value target. "I like preparation. It keeps things... interesting."
As she left the room with a fluid stride, Tony turned back to Pepper. He looked like he had just found a new piece for his chessboard.
"She's good, Pep. Maybe too good," Tony said, watching the door close. "Keep her close. I want to see which agency is footing the bill for a Super Soldier to file our paperwork."
———
Natasha Romanoff's POV
FIELD LOG: Operation Iron Man
Subject: Anthony Edward Stark
Agent: Romanoff, N. (Deep Cover: Natalie Rushman)
Location: Stark Industries HQ – New York
Observation 1: The Corporate Fortress
Walking through the halls of Stark Industries is like walking through a high security intelligence hub. The "Weapons Division" may be publicly closed, but the internal surveillance has doubled. My sensors detected three different types of scanners… thermal, biometric and a high frequency wave I couldn't immediately identify… before I even reached the executive elevator.
Observation 2: The "New" Tony Stark
When I entered the penthouse, the biometric data I gathered was... unsettling. According to the S.H.I.E.L.D. files, Tony Stark is a civilian genius with a chronic heart condition and a history of substance abuse. The man I saw today is in peak physical condition. His resting heart rate is abnormally stable, even for a high performance athlete. He didn't look up when I entered, but he knew exactly where I was. He moves with a predatory stillness I've only seen in seasoned assassins. Most men look at "Natalie Rushman" and see a target or a trophy. Stark looked at me like he was deconstructing my DNA. His eyes... there's a blue tinged luminosity in them when he's thinking. For a moment, it felt like he was looking through my clothes, through my skin, directly at the Glock on my thigh.
Observation 3: The Pepper Potts Variable
The relationship between Stark and Virginia Potts has evolved from professional to foundational. There is a new level of synchronization between them that is both personal and operational. She is the only person who can walk into his personal space without him tensing up. If we ever need to leverage Stark, Potts is no longer a viable option. He has surrounded her with a security detail that looks more like a private mercenary army than corporate bodyguards. I counted four "cleaners" in the lobby alone who didn't have CIA or FBI signatures. Stark is building his own private army and he's keeping the roster close to his chest.
Observation 4: The Breach of Cover?
During our brief interaction, Stark made a direct comment about my "muscle density." It was framed as a compliment to my fitness… but it was a warning. The fact that he let me walk out of that room without further questioning means he's not afraid of our agency. He's confident. He's letting the spider into the web because he wants to see who is pulling the strings.
Conclusion:
If Tony Stark is "Iron Man," then the suit is a shell for something far more advanced. He has undergone a biological or technological shift that we have not accounted for. I need more time to confirm if the man and the machine are truly one and the same, or if he has a "guardian" he's hiding in the basement.
Recommendation: Maintain deep cover. Do not engage.
If he figures out I'm S.H.I.E.L.D., I don't think a standard extraction team will be enough to get me out of this building.