Thanks to Hammer Industries' investment and the fact that he no longer had to worry about survival, Vulture's new mechanical wings were far more refined than the crude set he had cobbled together while the Winter Soldier pedaled a three-wheeler around the city collecting scrap. The materials were better, and the design followed aerodynamic principles much more closely.
The mechanical wings had considerable real-world combat value. Daisy planned to sell them to the Air Force and S.H.I.E.L.D.
She could represent S.H.I.E.L.D. herself. But if the product was going to be sold to the military, then naturally the military had to conduct the tests.
So today Daisy had brought several Air Force generals and test pilots to conduct a trial flight.
Vulture had no objection. Once the product sold, he would receive money too, and no one had a problem with being paid. He loved flying. When no one else was around, he could always take a set of wings somewhere and fly on his own. Nobody would stop him.
During introductions, Daisy learned that the slim Black test pilot among them was named Sam Wilson. In the future, this man would become one of the Marvel world's most famous aerial combat specialists, Captain America's devoted admirer—the Falcon.
For now, however, Sam was still serving in an airborne division and had been specially transferred back stateside for Hammer Industries' test.
The old mechanical wings Vulture had built were clumsy and ugly. That had nothing to do with his ability and everything to do with limited conditions and poor materials.
When all he had was a welding torch and discarded alien scrap to piece together, how could anyone expect the result to be elegant or lightweight?
Now that he had abundant materials, he naturally no longer had to work under such miserable constraints.
With a lifelong dream to pursue, plus Daisy's deep pockets and an unlimited supply of raw materials, Vulture could naturally build a smaller, lighter flight system.
The Air Force had long been obsessed with obtaining personal flight equipment. They had encouraged Colonel James Rhodes to take Stark's armor. They got the armor, but could not actually reverse-engineer any meaningful weapons from it. Colonel Rhodes blocked them at every turn, claiming things like it was too sunny to deploy the armor or the base did not have enough electrical capacity for research.
Colonel Rhodes knew the Air Force could not fire him. Even after being marginalized, he guarded the armor stubbornly and refused to let the military interfere. Combined with Stark's occasional protests, the Air Force did not dare go too far.
Now Hammer Industries had given them another path. If the equipment could fly, why obsess over having full armor?
Three test pilots put on backpack units carrying the mechanical wings and walked to the top of a hill as though testing hang gliders.
They simply jumped. While falling, they activated hand controllers. The wings snapped open. Each pilot grabbed the handles mounted on the wings and pulled upward, carving out an arc and using the wind to rise into the air.
"That guy flies pretty well..." Vulture pointed at Sam as he spoke to Daisy.
Everyone could see it. Sam's flying skill was far beyond the other two. While they still had to grip the handles and glide with the wind, Sam was already able to release the handles and fly by beating the wings.
The wings, made with lightweight titanium ribs and polyester film, trembled gently. Chitauri hover devices canceled out much of the pull of gravity. Sam now looked like a giant eagle. He climbed higher and higher within everyone's field of view, swept effortlessly across the sky, circled the test field twice, and only then landed.
The sensation of unrestricted flight left Sam Wilson wildly excited. Even after landing, he was still exhilarated.
The Air Force lieutenant generals were even more excited. They surrounded Daisy and Vulture with questions. Could weapons be mounted? How far could the system fly? Did pilots need any special physical qualifications?
"Hammer Industries truly is an outstanding defense research partner. The Air Force hopes you'll increase production. We urgently need this kind of weapon." The Chief of Staff of the Air Force praised the design repeatedly and placed an order on the spot.
They did not even blink at Hammer Industries' price of eight million dollars per set of mechanical wings. They had only one requirement: produce one hundred units first. They wanted to see how the system performed in actual combat in Afghanistan.
An eight-hundred-million-dollar order landed with ease, and this was only the beginning of the partnership. Future profits would be even greater.
Once the batch of mechanical wings was produced, Hammer Industries would earn roughly four hundred million dollars after costs. Under Daisy's agreement with Vulture, he would receive forty million dollars. That was no small sum. The wealth gap in America was enormous; in some predominantly Black electoral districts, four or five million dollars, spent strategically, could be enough to win a legislative seat.
Vulture had never been destitute, but he had certainly never been rich. Now a fortune had dropped into his lap. He repeatedly promised to complete production on schedule.
In the original timeline, Vulture had proven his value. He was lucky Daisy had dragged him back to work before he ended up becoming a street-level villain.
But many more people had been ruined by a single administrative order from the Department of Damage Control. They may initially have entered the New York cleanup hoping to speculate and profit, and their motives were not entirely pure, but such a blunt, sweeping expulsion still brought endless criticism down on Stark, who was focused entirely on doing something big.
Countless citizens had sold or mortgaged everything they owned to participate in rebuilding New York, hoping for a share of the profits afterward. Now they fell into despair. Faced with the Department of Damage Control's armed agents, they had no choice but to back down. A few occasionally protested beneath Stark Tower, but Mr. Stark ignored them.
Stubborn, unwilling to listen, and convinced that what he was doing was right, Tony Stark would keep charging ahead even after hitting a dead end. That was part of his personality too. Outsiders could say whatever they wanted. Once he made up his mind, he would see it through.
With corporate money pouring into New York's reconstruction, Stark spent a month studying the matter before deciding he owed his shareholders an explanation.
He convened a board meeting and prepared to launch a clean-energy project. In the future, New York would be the first city to benefit.
"ID badge."
"ID badge."
The moment Daisy walked into Stark Tower, she saw the portly bodyguard Happy Hogan solemnly demanding that employees display their ID badges.
Stark had become Iron Man and joined the Avengers. Walking around every day with a single bodyguard no longer made much sense.
Still, Happy was a trusted longtime friend, so Stark had made him head of corporate security. To Daisy, the job was basically chief of a group of guards and did not seem particularly impressive.
But Happy took it extremely seriously. Ignoring all the eye rolls around him, he continued faithfully performing his duties.
"Hey, Happy!" Daisy greeted him casually. Then she suddenly remembered something and turned back to him.
"My office has been broken into twice already. Any good ideas for preventing it from happening again?"
"What exactly did you lose?" Happy asked with a completely serious expression.
"Cash!"
Once he learned that all she had lost was cash, Happy offered a long list of suggestions: surveillance cameras, smart doors, voice-activated locks, and more.
"ID badge!" Even as Daisy prepared to take the elevator to the shareholder meeting, Happy did not forget to remind her.
Daisy did not know whether to laugh or cry. She wanted to tell him that she was a shareholder, not an employee. At that moment, Pepper Potts, dressed in a white business suit, came to meet her and shooed Happy away with a smile.
"Happy's been a little..." Pepper pointed at her own temple, meaning that Happy had been acting rather strange lately and Daisy should not take it personally.