Archive of Our Own

 

 

Steve is on the couch, attempting to read “The Hobbit”, when he hears Tony's voice. “I want to say one word to you. Just one word. Algae.”

“Huh?” Steve looks up. Tony is standing in front of him, a sheaf of papers in one hand, looking slightly disappointed.

“Come on, we watched 'The Graduate' two weeks ago.”

“No, I get that.” Well, he mostly gets it; Peter and Tony's endless supply of movie quotes is something Steve finds entertaining, if occasionally mystifying. “But algae?”

Tony sighs and flops down on the couch next to him. “You asked me what my meeting was about tomorrow. It's about algae.”

“...I'm still confused.”

“It's the hot new biofuel. Or it will be, in the next ten years.” Tony tosses his papers towards the coffee table and rolls his eyes when half of them immediately slide off. “I'm meeting with a biofuel company that's looking for an investor.” He looks at Steve, gives him a rueful half-smile. “I wish I could come with you instead.”

“You think the meeting will be that bad?” Steve lays his book on his knee and turns towards Tony, laying one arm out casually along the top of the couch cushions.

“Well, their CEO doesn't seem to like me very much. On the other hand, I don't know if she likes anyone very much.” Tony sighs, stretches out until Steve can hear his joints crack. Tony's shed his jacket and tie somewhere and unbuttoned his collar. There's a patch of shadow underneath his chin where the whiteness of the shirt comes up against the muscle of his neck. Steve does his best not to stare. “It'll be fine.” He leans into Steve to nudge him in the side, right beneath where his arm is stretched out. “I just want to help you find your shield. You look like a lost puppy without it.”

Steve sighs. “I just wish I knew who had it. I'm afraid of what they might be using it for.” He slouches a little in his seat and adds, in a small voice, “And I do miss having it.”

Tony leans into Steve, resting his chin on his broad shoulder. “We'll find it,” he says, low and certain. “We will.”

Steve smiles; the way Tony says it, just announces it as a statement of pure fact, makes him feel more hopeful than he has all day. He puts his head down to where Tony is leaning into his shoulder and rubs his cheek against the dark hair, earning a happy noise in response. “We will. Do you want to read 'The Hobbit' with me?”

“Is the Hulk green? Of course I want to read the Hobbit with you. Go to the part with Gollum and the riddles in it, I love that bit.”



“Mr. Stark.” For a CEO, Reva Kazi is young. Yet she handles herself with total certainty, or at least a good imitation of it. She's soberly dressed, in a black suit that matches her glossy hair and a cream scarf that brings out the glow of her dark skin. Kazi had been focused throughout the morning's meetings, dark eyes fixed on Tony. Now that they are alone, her face has grown hard enough to match her eyes. “I find myself in an...unusual situation.” She glances at him, quick and furtive. He leans back, slow and elegant in his chair, and begins spinning a pen between his fingertips. “Greenspring is on the verge of a major breakthrough in our algaculture. Another five years of funding would result in a process that would revolutionize fuel technology worldwide.”

“So you've told me.” He flicks the pen, walks it back and forth across his hands.

“You're not impressed by our work, Mr. Stark?”

He shrugs. “A lot can happen in five years. You have good tech, you need to hold onto your R&D group and start thinking about making the jump to wide-scale production. You're a lightweight in the business world right now. Another bad stock tumble like the one last month and someone like HammerTech could buy you out in a night.”

“I am aware.” Kazi holds herself still; only her knuckles move, a brief flash of paleness against the dark fabric of her suit. “You have prior contracts with Greenspring. The board of directors recommended I approach you with an offer.”

Tony flicks the pen into his mouth and swivels to meet her stare. “The board? I thought you were employee-owned.”

She nods. “We are. The board is made of founding members, including myself. This was the recommendation. In order to prevent the possibility of a hostile takeover, we'd like to offer you an opportunity to purchase controlling stock in Greenspring. An initial investment in the technology now would offer a high probability of profit sharing within a 5 to 10-year period. I have a draft of the agreement, if you would care to examine it at your leisure.”

Tony tilts his chin back, rubs at his goatee, spins in a few circles through the deck chair. “What else?”

“We- the board is prepared to offer additional-”

“No, no, not the stock.” He stops, suddenly, fixed her with a stare. “What else is going on here?”

“I'm afraid I don't-”

“What happened last month? I don't care what kind of news came down the pipeline. Given your profits from the last quarter, you should have been able to hang onto most of that stock, not sell it.”

“That was, I'm afraid, a poor management decision-”

“Last I checked, Stanford wasn't giving out MBAs for free, Ms. Kazi. And I don't think you pulled Greenspring Energy through five years in development to fumble the first stock option you handle. Half of your company's outstanding IPO has been bought up by a dummy corporation in Eastern Europe, did you know that?”

“I...I'm not aware...” Tony sees her jaw clench, but he also sees the faint tremble in it, and feels a twinge of remorse. He leans forward, makes his next words softer.

“I don't know what's going on in your company, Ms. Kazi. If I weren't interested in buying stock in it, I'd leave it alone. But as it is, I need to know what's happening.”

In the silence there, before she opens her mouth to speak, Tony feels the hairs on his neck rise.

“Mr. Stark?” Reva looks at him quizzically. Then she freezes, head still titled to one side, and Tony can see her eyes widen.

Gunshots. One, two, then a popcorn scatter that builds on itself and suddenly snaps off. Muffled voices fill the sudden silence, a mutter of low confusion that swells, quickly, into a spike of panic when someone screams.

Tony doesn't remember moving, just finds himself at the huge double doors, twisting the lock and shoving one of the side tables under the handles. “Is there another way out?”

“What- yes, over there, we can go through the suite-” Kazi instinctively moves around the table, sunlight slipping over her suit.

“No!” She stops dead. “This way- stay away from the windows-” She slides backwards, slow and gentle, and goes around the far end of the room with him.

They're in the back hall of an office suite. Heads are popping out from doors, and Kazi's personal assistant is sprinting around the corner towards them, his jacket flapping. “Reva- Mr. Stark-”

“Ray, there's someone in the building.” Kazi has her shoulder against a filing cabinet; she gives it an experimental shove. “Help me move this.”

“We need to get everyone out of here,” Tony says, dragging at the cabinet. “Gather everyone up, keep them low-”

“Ray, call a code silver- no, wait, round up the suite and get into the small meeting room, the one by the stairs. Start on the north side, I'll meet you there.  Keep everybody calm. ” Ray nods, strides off at a pace only a hair slower than his earlier sprint. Kazi pulls a phone from her pocket and stabs a few numbers into the keypad, then begins moving down the hall, opening doors as she goes. “Are you all right? Go to the small meeting room. I don't know; I'm getting information now.”

Tony stares at her, then back at the door, now covered by a metal cabinet, and fumbles for his phone.

“Happy, where are you?”

“Tenth floor, boss.” He sounds out of breath. “You OK? What's happening?”

“I'm fine. Don't think the merger's going through today, though.”

There's a snorting laugh. “Glad to hear it. I'm trying to get to the stairs; it's a mess down here-”

“What's going on?”

“Lot of panic.” There's the sound of someone crying close by. “Hey. Hey, it's okay. Get down the hall, get in the break room and stay put.”

“Happy, did you see anything?”

“Uh- your basic SWAT wannabes, lot of black kevlar. No insignia I recognized. Seemed like pros, though. Boss, I'm at the stairs-”

Tony looks down the hall, almost empty now. “Happy, how bad is it down there?”

There's a pause. “No shots fired, but we've got a lot of upset people here.”

“Uh-huh.” Tony is silent. Listens to Happy's panting breaths, the sound of panicked voices in the background. “Do me a favor, stay down there and try to keep everyone calm.”

“You sure?”

Tony closes his eyes. “Yeah. I'm sure. We'll get these people out first, then I'll grab my briefcase and go after these guys.”

Happy is quiet for a moment, then Tony hears another panicky spike of voices come through the line. “Okay. Okay, boss, be careful-”

“I'll call you,” Tony says, and hangs up.




“I can't reach security,” Kazi says as he follows her into the conference room. Tony sees her hands clench into fists again, just for a moment, and she flips open her cell and dials in a long string of codes before lifting the speaker to her mouth. “Reva Kazi. Emergency codes. Total broadcast.” She pauses, takes a breath. “This is your CEO, Reva Kazi. Greenspring Energy is in a Code Silver alert. There may be one or more armed individuals in the building. Please stay calm and follow your crisis plans.” She flips the phone shut and looks around the conference room; Tony can see her counting under her breath. When she reaches Tony, she stares for a moment, unseeing, before recovering and plastering a weak smile on her face. “Mr. Stark. I apologize for the interruption, but it would seem we have to abridge our meeting.”

“I would never have guessed.”

Kazi gives him a real smile that flashes and fades in the space of a second. “Is anyone hurt?” There's a low murmur of 'no's. “All right. Stay down for a little bit, everyone. I'm going to try and get more information.” There's a sudden babble of panicked noise, and she raises her hands against it. “I need you to stay calm and stay quiet. Yes- I know. Please keep calm while we analyze the situation. Ray, can I see you?”

Tony stares at the people huddled on the floor. Most of them are following Reva's advice and staying quiet; they're pressed into tight huddles, coworkers leaning up against each other for comfort. Almost everyone has a phone or PDA out and is typing intermittently at the keyboards; at least the wireless is still up, though God know how long that'll last. Behind him, he can hear Kazi and her assistant talking in low voices.

“-can't reach security either.”

“I have to see if we should call for an evacuation-”

“-but what's safe? Is it just this floor?”

“Happy's on the tenth floor.” They turn to look at Tony; he keeps his voice low. “Same thing there. He says it looks like a paramilitary team of some kind.”

Ray exhales. “Who in God's name-”

“Does it matter?” Reva is stabbing fruitlessly at her phone. “I am getting nothing from Security-”

“What's your security system like?” Tony fishes his PDA out of his pocket and punches in a few commands. “Cameras? Keycard access? Oh, is that a SaiTech logo? Very nice.” His fingers move rapidly over the keys.

“I- what are you doing?” Ray peers over his shoulder at the windows popping to life on Tony's phone.

“Trying...to analyze...the situation. No, you go up there. And- that's a new piece of code, interesting.” More rapid keying. Tony frowns at the phone, uses his fingertips to flick a few windows off the screen.

“Mr. Stark, are you hacking my security system?”

“Not yet, I'm not. Ohhhhhhhh, they fixed that loop, I see.” Tony looks up from the phone briefly, flashes a grin. “Come on. What do you have? Keycarding? Any internal overrides on the locks?”

Reva looks faintly stunned. “Uh. Cameras, in the stairwells for sure, and through both the offices and the labs. Suites and offices are keycard only, all lab access is keycard only. I don't know about overrides...Ray?”

He shrugs, breaking his gaze at Tony's fingers flying over the keys. “What you said. There might be safety override codes?”

“I think we can work with that. If...I remember...correctly...” Tony lets his voice die down and studies the code scrolling up his screen. “There it is.” He flicks his fingers together, taps in a few lines of code. “Let's take a look at those cameras.”

“Did you...you just hacked SaiTech's software with a cell phone?”

Tony grins. “Well, it's more of a microprocessor that can make phone calls.”

Reva rubs her forehead. “We spent how much of last year's profits on that system?”

“Ten percent, Ms. Kazi.”

“I can't believe it.”

Tony grins again and flicks a switch on the phone, covering the far wall with a projection of camera views. “If it makes you feel better, they're the best on the market. Well, aside from me, of course.” He pulls up a chair and begins to filter rapidly through the camera feeds; the far wall of the conference room is a blur of overlapping videos. The room is dim, and quiet enough that he can hear the shiver of fear that rises when a trooper crosses beneath a camera. They're all kitted out in anonymous black Kevlar, like Happy said; faces half-masked with neoprene, eyes shielded behind plastic goggles. It's a squad of five; they move easily through the hallways, almost casual, guns held loosely at their sides, and Tony feels a frisson of helpless fear as one of them gently nudges open the hanging door of an office suite. A woman behind him gasps.

“It's empty.” Kazi's voice is low, steady. “That floor is being remodeled.” Tony finds himself breathing out.

“What floor is that?”

“Six.”

“Six.” He pulls his phone towards him again, pulls the view out into the screen and begins skipping through grainy security film. “Four on six. None on- wait, let's start on one...” Tony's fingers fly through the menus, skimming along screens and occasionally pulling one out to his desktop. “First floor is clean...so is the second floor.”

“You're sure?” Kazi is at his elbow, voice eager and brittle. Tony skips back through the image stream, pulls out another shot and expands it.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure. Third floor is...clean.”

“Can we- Which way-”

“North stairwell.” Ray is suddenly hunched over Tony's shoulder, eyes scanning the display. “Stark, is the north staircase clear? Can we get people out that way?”

“Just...a...second...” The display on the wall shudders and jumps. “Yes. Yes, north staircase is clear right now.” Kazi is muttering into her phone, hitting a button, snapping out more instructions. “Wait, wait, before you do anything, I need to do a full scan, see how many of these guys there are.”

“Okay. Okay.”

“I'm setting up the messaging system,” Kazi says over one shoulder, phone wedged close into her ear. “Tell me when-”

“Couple of minutes.”

Time ticks by. Tony's fingers weave in intricate little dances over the screen in front of him. The output on the wall changes, grows; the video screens accrete in overlapping stacks, then begin to migrate into separate spots in some framework. Ray leans forward.

“That's- is that our building?”

“Mapped the camera positions onto the blueprints. It's a little messy, but it works for now.” Tony sighs and pops out a line of code from where it's scrolling in the background. “Okay, we have fourteen troopers in the building right now- two squads of five, one of four. It looks like they're all generally moving upwards. Right now...” he flips through the camera views one last time. “Right now, there's nobody moving beneath the sixth floor; the squads are all between six and eight.”

“One and two.” Kazi drums her fingers on the table as she waits for her phone to connect. “We'll get them out first.”

“What about the rest of us?” Ray keeps his voice low as he bends forward, pretends to watch the screen on Tony's lap. “What happens when they get up here?”

Tony spins in his chair. He's not grinning, but it's a close thing. “While you were in high school, did you ever pull a fire alarm?”




The phone only gets a chance to ring once before Happy picks up.

“Boss.”

“How's it going, Happy?”

“I've been better. What's the plan?”

“We got most of the building out. You still near the stairs? The squads are heading upstairs. I'm going to wait until they get up top, then hit the emergency alarms and get the rest of the staff out in the confusion. ”

There's silence on the line.

“I know.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“I know you didn't. Look, there's only about fourteen of these guys. We take advantage of the noise, I think it's our best chance.”

More silence.

“Happy, do you have a better idea?”

A resigned sigh. “No. I guess I don't.”

“Thanks, that's a vote of confidence. Wait for the fire alarms to go off, then get everybody down the stairs, I'll meet you outside.”

“Will do. Boss?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

“Will do, Hap.”




“Stark, how are we looking?”

“Good.” Tony doesn't look away from the display, squinting closely at the screen. “The first seven floors are empty. Looks like...the teams are on nine and ten, now.” He frowns at the video feeds. One of the men looks familiar, somehow; even through the bulkiness of body armor and the further blurring of the video feeds. Tony keeps turning to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

“It's strange.”

“What?”

He taps the desk, lost for words, then finally settles on, “Look, they're headed straight upstairs. They've had plenty of opportunities to break doors, hurt hostages.” Tony is aware of the whole room watching; he pulls up a screen and points to one of the squads. A trooper kneels in front, watching an open doorway, as his team moves past, then backs away, covering their retreat. “They haven't. It's like they're just passing through.”

There's a sense of loosening tension in the room. Most of the staff slouches a little bit, lets their shoulders slump in relief. Tony motions to Ray and Kazi, pulls them in close and speaks low. “So the question is, what do they want?”

The two of them look at each other, searching. Tony keeps staring at the video feeds, flipping restlessly through them. He keeps his voice light and easy as he continues. “What they probably want is me. Maybe you-” he points to Kazi- “but probably me.”

“Stark-”

“Let's stick to the plan,” Tony says, and there's a dizzying moment of deja vu where he smells woodsmoke and old batteries and the acrid stench of a forge. “We'll wait until they're further up, then I'll lie low, give your people time to get out.”

There's a moment of silence. Then Reva breathes out, slowly. “Stark, they're not after you. Or me.”

“Then what...” Tony trails off and leans forward. The familiar trooper, the one he's been watching, has turned quickly at some imagined noise, gun up. He laughs, mutters something to the rest of his squad. Tony doesn't bother to try and figure out what they're saying. His attention is on the bulk of the man, the dark mass the body armor makes over his back. It's not just body armor; he's carrying something big and broad and round strapped over his shoulders, something Tony's seen a thousand times in Steve's hands, and he doesn't even need to see the star to recognize the shield.

He turns and stares at the Greenspring team. Ray simply looks confused, darting glances between his boss and Tony. Kazi looks at him, dark, steady, fathomless, and Tony is aware of the ground shifting under his feet. “You need to tell me what's going on here. Right now.”

“Boss-”

Reva pushes away Ray's hand. “It's all right, Ray.” She sighs. Rubs her hand against her forehead, pinches the bridge of her nose. “It's time.” She pauses, staring at a patch of wall; Tony can see her putting her thoughts in order. “Well. We had an employee. A- a scientist. One of our founding members, actually. He was...”

“An arrogant fuck.” Ray's voice is sharp, deeply angry, and Reva chokes out a laugh.

“Yes. Adler was arrogant, and aggressive, and very, very smart.” She settles down, and Tony can see her reaching for her professional posture. “And he had a great deal of control over the company. Too much control. He had his own department for a while, worked on cold-fusion type energy. We had made an incredible breakthrough with the algae processing- we were going to make this work, all of it, and he didn't want to hear it.” She goes quiet again, back rigid. “He took our funds. He had access, somehow- it doesn't matter. It took us months to figure out the trail, to get him completely out, and the whole time he was bleeding us dry.”

“This has to do with your stock sale, doesn't it?”

Reva gives another laugh, brief and bitter. “I wish it was only the stock. Yes. He bled out our assets; we're still trying to track them down. But we're stable, now; if we hadn't had competitors trying to make offers, we could have made it at least a few more months.”

“It's not only the stock.”

She shakes her head, sighs again. “Before Adler left- a few months before- he made a purchase, God knows from whom. It was- a metal alloy of some kind, I think. He was crazy about it. He rearranged all his research around it; kept talking about how it was going to revolutionize the industry. That was what gave him away, actually; we realized there was only one place he could have gotten the money for that kind of purchase.”

“A metal alloy?” Tony is scrolling again, frantically, punching in lines of code on his screen. “Where did he buy it from?”

“No idea. There's no record of the transaction.” Reva stops short. When she continues, it's in a lower tone. “Adler robbed us blind, Stark. He had his hands on everything, when we finally found him out. At first- when we first uncovered him- my auditors were finding something new every week. Nothing big, you understand; nothing actionable, just some little fix or change or document that tipped things out of balance for us, gave him more control. And we finally get him wrapped in enough legalese to fire him, finally start recovering our losses, and I find that he left some radioactive supermetal in his lab.” She curls her fingers over her hands and shakes them in frustration.

“And then Tosenkraft swept in and made the offer.” Tony offers this quietly, but Reva turns and answers him in a voice barely removed from freezing.

“They did not make an offer, Stark. They're not offering. They're trying to take us to pieces.” She gestures to the security cameras, the squads moving up the stairs towards them. “And now- those men have to be involved with Adler, or Tosenkraft, or both, which means they are in my building. Threatening my employees. And all we can do is run.”

“No.” Tony says this quietly. He stands up and looks up at Kazi glaring at him, jaw set in an iron curve. “The first thing we're doing is getting your people out safely. But then...” He takes a breath. “Ms. Kavi, whatever protections your former employee had- or has- whatever protections Tosenkraft can bring into play- right now, it appears they're trying to steal a radioactive substance. And I know a number of people in the Department of Defense who have a vested interest in keeping things like that from happening.”

Reva stares at him for a moment, recognition dawning. “You mean- this is concrete, we can make this stick.” She draws in a breath that sounds almost joyful. “Forget short-selling our stock- If we can link Tosenkraft, or Adler to an armed theft-”

“The SEC would be the least of their worries.”

“Yes,”  Ray says, in a strangled voice. Reva buries her head in her hands for a moment; when she takes them away, her face is lit with joy.

“Okay. Okay. Let's go, let's get everyone out of here.”




It takes the teams another ten minutes to reach the top floor. In the meantime, Reva has called down to floors eight and nine and gotten them from the building. Ray has finally reached someone from Security. The report is that the squads hit the security stations all at once with some sort of synchronized attack; guard booths were filled with tear gas, and at least one person was hit with something like a Taser. There's a head count still in process, but from the relieved look Ray and Reva share nobody's been too severely injured. Tony thinks briefly about calling Happy again and dismisses it; he knows the plan, and he needs to focus on the security teams now. They've spread out over the top two floors, covering entrances and exits and, Tony notes with some dismay, the stairwells.

There's nothing he can do about it now. This is still the best option they have, and they have to do it soon. The troopers apparently aren't content with just waiting around anymore; he can see one of the squads conferring, looking around at the doors lining the hallway. They march off camera. A few seconds later, there's a rattling noise at the main door to their suite.

Tony says something obscene under his breath. The employees are ready; Reva has them gathered in a huddle at the door of the meeting room they're sheltering in. Tony hits a button, making the display on the wall flicker and disappear, and stands up, phone in one hand. He motions for the group to follow him, and they do, trailing behind as he approaches the suite door.

There's another rattle, and the sound of very low voices. Tony holds the phone in one hand; in the other, he holds up three fingers.

Three . Twenty faces, staring at him.

Two.  A scraping noise outside the door.

One.  Ray tenses behind him.

Zero.

He hits a key on his phone, and immediately the room is dark and filled with deafening sound. Ray grabs the handle, slams the door out, and they're in the hallway, dark indistinct shapes around them, flickering in the emergency strobe lights. They're gathered in close, their guns are useless- he hits one on the face, hard and quick, takes a step back and hits him in the kneecap with his heel hard enough to crunch. Someone closing- Tony gets low, rolls him over one shoulder and slams him into the wall. Dodge, turn, there's a rifle barrel swinging up at him, they're recovering. He flips the gun further forward, twists it out of the trooper's hands and clubs him with the stock. There's a stream of people moving past him, and Ray panting as he grapples with another trooper. Tony uses the gun again, slams him in the back with the weight of it, and Ray takes advantage and head-butts him into the far wall. There's a muffled clang when he hits, like a pan falling on the floor, and Tony is on him as he slumps to the floor, fingers working at the shield strapped across his back.

“Stark-”

“Go,” Tony says, and Ray is gone, sprinting down the hall to the staircase behind the rest of the employees. There's a bungee cord splayed over the shield; he rips clear all the hooks he can find, gives another tug and the shield pops out, black nylon fluttering as it comes clear. Shouts, boots pounding around the corner, and Tony threads his forearm through the handles, hunches beneath the shield and runs for the stairs. Pops of noise- they're firing at him, it feels like a sudden rattle of hail on the shield. Something mushrooms into the ground at his feet, sizzling with electricity. He takes the corner hard, hits the pushbar on the door with his shoulder and tumbles into the ruddy darkness of the stairwell.

Tony picks himself up, readjusts the shield and hits the stairs, taking them two at a time. There's the sound of pounding feet, further down. The shield unbalances him very slightly. He's used to the suit, the stabilizers moving with him. He has to keep a hand out to balance himself; it's dark and shadowed, and there's noise coming from every direction. With the hand not occupied with the shield, he grabs his phone out of his pocket and snaps a few commands to it, bringing up the security camera display again. They'll have to check, make sure the building is clear, see if they can lock off the tactical teams. He needs to find Happy, needs to get the suit and isolate this radioactive mystery metal they have in the labs. The screens flicker past him, snapping between cameras as he snaps out commands, and he looks at the next image and very nearly trips down his next flight. He catches himself at the last second on the railing, spins and staggers to a stop on the landing and just stares.

The man in the screen looks up at the camera, down at the ground, and kicks the black bundle laying there. Tony doesn't want to see this, can't see this, but he's rolling over, face twisted in pain, and it's Happy down there, hands still clasped around the briefcase- they have the suit, they have  Happy . The trooper reaches down, hauls up Happy by the scruff of his neck- still struggling, still dizzy from the head wound- and there is a curved bright shape suddenly pressing into Happy's neck, edge sharp and shining, and Happy goes still.

”No,”  Tony says, low and useless. The trooper looks up at the camera again. Presses down the knife- Happy struggles away from it- then lets up the pressure until the edge is just skating along Happy's throat. He's pulling Happy backwards, now, one hand still pressed in an awful caressing curve along his chest, and he jerks his head towards the door. Movement- the rest of his team going past, and Happy and his captor last through the door as it swings shut.

Tony stands in the flickering light of the video feed. Someone is yelling up the stairs at him-  Come on, Stark, get out of there . Ray, maybe. He doesn't have the suit. They have Happy, and they have the Iron Man suit, and if he doesn't do this right they're going to have radioactive supermetal and probably this company too, this company Kazi has fought them tooth and nail for. It's hard to keep a thought in his head; it's the noise of the alarms, and the spike of adrenaline surging through his system, and the fact that all he can see is the look of breathless terror on Happy's face when he feels the blade at his throat. He has to do something.

The shield bangs against his hip. He has that, at least; he saved Steve's shield for him. Tony splays one hand across the cool surface, tucks his head in, and  thinks. He can smell metal and oiled leather, and if he breathes in deep, he can conjure up the faintest touch of sweat. The alarms are still shrieking, but the shield is cool against his skin. It's an anchor, a spot of stillness in the insanity of his day, and he grounds himself against it for a little. A very little, just a few seconds- but it's enough.




“Steve.”

“Tony?” Steve's voice is scratchy. Tony can hear wind buffeting the mouthpiece.

“How was your day at work, handsome?”

“Tony.”  He must be on the helicopter; Dugan is probably rolling his eyes at him from across the cargo bay. “No luck on the shield yet, but we picked up some leads; the thief sold it to a group that seems to be linked to a bunch of companies in Eastern Europe.”

“One of them wouldn't be Tosenkraft Energy, would it?”

“...Yes, there was one called Tosenkraft in there; CEO is a Jurgen Haider. You know them?”

Tony can't restrain a wry little chuckle. “I know of them. So I found something you might be missing.”

Even over the bad connection, he can hear the hope in Steve's voice. “You- it isn't-”

Tony lifts one hand from the tangle of wires in his lap and taps his knuckles on the shield, making it ring dully. “Big, round, got a star in the middle? Lot of red and white and blue?”

“You found my  shield. ” Steve's voice is all delight; he must be grinning right now, eyes sparkling. Tony finds himself smiling in return.

“Yup.” He waits for a moment; he's not disappointed.

“Wait, how did  you  find my shield? I thought you were in a business meeting all day today.”

“We...had to adjourn a little early.” Tony makes himself a little more comfortable against the wall, rummages through the pile of scrounged supplies at his side. “I'm going to have to borrow some of your gear for a little bit, I hope you don't mind.”

“Tony, what's going on?”

He gives Steve the abbreviated version, hands busy the whole time.

“You don't have your suit and you're going into close-quarters combat with a group of well-armed paramilitary troops?”

“Well, when you put it that way, of course it sounds like a bad idea.”

“You're undergeared for this- you don't have any of your tech, and these men are armed to the teeth, they could kill you-”

“They're not using standard bullets, Cap, they took out the security team with stun rounds of some kind, used the same rounds coming after me. They're trying really hard to  not  kill anybody-”

“Even then, say they knock you out- now they've got you hostage, and god knows what this company is actually a front for. Stay there, I can be there with SHIELD support in ninety minutes.”

“We don't have ninety minutes. They have free run of the building and access to the alloy, you think they'll hang around for a congratulatory beer after they steal it?”

“Tony-” He can hear Steve gathering up steam for a big attack, to maybe even forbid him to go, and he jumps in ahead of him.

“I can't leave the suit with them, Cap.” Tony takes a breath and says, low, “I really can't leave Happy with them. Not if I have the chance to get him out of there.”

Steve is silent for a moment; the only sound on the line is the wind whipping past.

“Tony, the best way you can help Happy is by using your head here.”

“I am. I'm telling you. I have a hack into the security system here; I can see where these guys are at all times. I can kill lights, lock doors. I can stay three steps ahead. I have the shield, Cap- this isn't a suicide mission. They're not hunting me. I'm hunting them. Trust me on this.”  Don't tell me not to go. Don't make me promise. I don't want to have to lie to you.

There's more silence on the line, and then Steve sighs. It's his special Tony-sigh, the one he uses when Tony is about to do something he really doesn't approve of. “I can't stop you from doing this, can I?”

Tony gives him a dry little laugh. “I don't think so.”

“Then- be careful. Is there anything I can do? Anything to help?”

Tony slides the earpiece he's been building over one ear and taps his phone. A display flickers to life, hovering in front of his right eye. He makes a noise of approval and starts shuffling files from his phone onto the display. “Come by as fast as you can. Bring that SHIELD support; I might end up needing it. And can you get one of the bureaucrats to contact Pepper with what they've uncovered on Tosenkraft and Haider?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do all that. Anything else?”

“Come here, get your shield and back me up. Beat up some goons with me. We'll make a date of it; I'll buy you dinner afterwards.” Tony tries to keep his voice teasing, but some honest want sifts through.

Steve makes a soft noise in return. “I will. I'll hold you to that dinner.”

“I'd like that.” Tony finds the connection they're on, holds a finger over the 'disconnect' button. “Steve, I have to go now.”

“Okay. Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful. I'll be there soon.”

“Yeah.”

 

 

Deep in the corridors of one of the Greenspring buildings, two troopers are moving slowly down a hallway together. They pause by a door; one fumbles for a clip, muttering quietly to himself before he speaks up.

“Dave?”

“Yeah, Chris?”

“I'm picking the next job.”

“Shut up and reload.”

The trooper sighs and slams the clip into his rifle. “Also? I hate these shock rounds.”

His partner continues scanning the hallway in front of them, unperturbed. “You're an ammo purist. Of course you hate the shock rounds.”

“It's not the non-lethal part, man. I'm for anything that makes our lives neater.” Chris sights down his barrel. “They're just clunky as hell.” He fiddles with a sight, lifts the gun to his shoulder again.

“Are you done, princess?”

He flips Dave the finger. Dave rolls his eyes, barely visible beneath the ballistics goggles they both wear. “Come on. Haider will have someone's ass if we don't figure out what happened to that shield of his.”

Chris falls into step behind him, scanning right to left as they move down the hallway. This isn't the offices anymore; after the...mess...with the evacuation, Haider had ordered them over to the lab buildings for the second half of their objective. When, however, they'd rallied at their waypoint and found the shield missing, the two of them had been immediately pulled out and sent back to try and recover it. Haider's tone had given them no choice.

“I'm not getting arrested for this job, just so you know.”

“I know, Chris.” Dave gently opens a door, peers down another dim corridor. “If we get any serious resistance, we head back. Haider's boss is going to have to live without his toy.” He motions down the hallway.

“This way.”

“Especially because...” Chris lets his voice trail off.

“Because what?” They're moving through the dim light, between huge gray blocks that look like commercial freezers, and the noise they make is surprisingly loud. When Dave glances back at him, Chris waves him off. They need to focus for this one. They can talk after this is over and they're sharing beers in a hotel room somewhere. And besides, Chris's not even sure of what he saw on the eleventh floor; it was a quick glimpse down a hallway, and besides, how many fakes must there be of Captain America's shield by now?

There's a rattling sound in the hallway ahead of them, and Chris looks up just in time to be hit in the face with a searing brightness. It's, it's blinding, and it's loud, louder than the fire alarms had been, and even before his brain is telling him flashbang he's pulling his rifle up and squinting through the tears, searching for a target. Dave is stumbling, fumbling for his rifle. He took the brunt of the noise and light- Chris bets he can't see anything beyond a blur now- and as he moves forward to get him down, cover him until the grenade wears off, there's a clicking noise and the overhead lights die, and now he really can't find a target.

“Down!” He yanks on the straps of Dave's vest, pulls him to the ground, and as he looks up from his partner's head Chris sees a white star coming at him through the gritty darkness. He points his rifle and fires, fires, fires. It's the shield. It's the shield, rounds sparking on the surface, mushroomed bullets pinging off it like spring hail. Chris is vaguely aware that he's screaming as he empties a clip into the white star. Empty, and there's no time- he grabs his rifle and swings it. It's a good weapon, laced with titanium-carbon alloys, and the impact it makes when it hits the shield rattles his skull. Chris dodges low, takes another swing, and the gun hits the shield again and-

shatters. Pieces erupt towards him, fragments slicing through his gloves, along his face, and he has only time to think we are in the worst trouble ever before something hits him across the head and he stops thinking for a while.

 

 

When he comes to, the lights are still off, and he can hear Dave next to him, cursing very quietly to himself.

“Dave.” His voice is a weak rasping thing, but it's enough. He can hear his partner calling low to him, and then a rustle as he hitches his way across the floor to Chris's side. Cool fingers find his pulse and Chris closes his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” Dave keeps his voice low. Chris licks his lips and fumbles for his canteen.

“I think that was the shield we were supposed to retrieve.”

Dave snorts. He pries his patient's eyelids open and Chris tries not to shy away from the penlight in his hand. “Right. Didn't know it was attached to a one-man army.” He flicks the light off. “Your pupils are OK. Everything else all right?”

“I'm fine.” He is; there's a sharp bruising pain along his temple, and something that feels like a developing lump behind his ear, but nothing that would keep him from going on. “You OK?”

“Been better. Couple of broken fingers, plus I got a shock round in the foot. Can't really walk.”

Chris winces. “You need something for it?”

“I took a little morphine for the breaks. I think I'm just going to have to wait out the shock round.” Dave reaches down to rub his lower leg, attempting to bring the feeling back. He looks thoughtful. “Well. I don't think Haider will have to worry about going back for that shield. I think whoever's got it is coming for him.”

Chris closes his eyes again. “You know what? I think our job is done for today.”

 

 

 

Reva rubs carefully at her temple. There's the beginnings of an impressive headache starting somewhere behind her eyes. The columns on the laptop screen in front of her are blurring slightly. She rebalances it on her knees and takes a look around the parking lot. She can't see Ray, but he must be nearby somewhere, managing the influx of emergency personnel currently stationed around the building. In the meantime, she'd managed to borrow a laptop from one of the accounting executives, who's seated next to her, scribbling notes on a legal pad.

“Ms. Kazi? I'm with Stark Enterprises. Would you join me in the car for a moment?”

Reva squints up from her seat on the curb. There's a tall figure in front of her, but with the sunlight in her eyes, she can't quite see more than that. “I'm sorry, but I'm trying to track down some information for the SEC. Can it wait?”

The figure steps a little closer and Reva can suddenly see; it's a tall woman, well-dressed, with auburn hair- it's Pepper Potts, she realizes, and hastily shifts the laptop aside so she can stand. Potts is impeccable, dressed with the utmost elegance and in what Reva is pretty sure are a pair of Ferragamo heels. Reva brushes awkwardly at her hair, her suit; she's mussed from the wait upstairs and the run downstairs, and she doesn't even want to consider what her makeup looks like right now.

“Ms. Kazi, we've been able to coordinate with some of Stark Enterprises'...professional partners. We've been able to obtain some interesting data with regards to Tosenkraft and its CEO.”

Reva looks up, all worries about her appearance gone. “Really.”

“Would you and your accounting department care to see it?” Potts smiles at her; it's the slow wolfish smile of a hunter who's just spotted her prey. Reva can feel herself mirroring it back at her, as she thinks of Haider's arrogant face.

“We would be delighted.”

 

 

Tony is moving through the labs in a loping crouch, shield angled in front of him. This building- the lab building- is the same anonymous lab space he sees in most tech companies, with freezers lining the walls, computers on benchtops, and hazard signs dotting the walls. The place is full of mysterious equipment designed for some ludicrously specific purpose, like all labs; Tony thanks his stars that he was able to stumble on a well-equipped chemistry lab fairly early. Once he'd jimmied the door on the Hazmat cabinet, he'd found the ingredients for crude flashbang grenades sitting on the first two shelves. He'd also found a pair of heavy leather gauntlets, which he'd pulled on before picking up the shield again. Leather was a good insulator, and while the effects of the shock rounds hadn't seemed to make it through the shield, he'd rather be sure.

He's spent the last hour or so- the time since calling Steve- threading his way through the lab buildings, dodging the attack teams as he did so. It's true, what he told Steve; he's not the prey here. With his link to the security systems and the building's controls, Tony can stay well ahead of the men chasing him down the hallways. It's not until they're at a disadvantage- split up, or boxed into a corner, or frantically loading more ammunition into their rifles- that Tony lobs out a flashbang and sprints after it.

The shield is incredible. Compared to Steve, he's a sad amateur with it on his arm, but it's such a good piece of equipment it almost covers up his faults. Tony doesn't try to throw it, of course (although he's practiced, with Steve, tossing it back and forth on the lawn like an overgrown Frisbee). He leads his charges in with it, though, protecting against the bullets until he can get close enough to engage with his targets. The shield's good for that, too; he can slam with it, or flick an edge up and catch the edge of an enemy's jaw. There's a trail through the labs now made of troopers on the floor, groaning or unconscious, their hands and feet hog-tied together in an awkward bunch. Not bad, Stark. Not bad.

He slows down. This whole thing may have gone remarkably well, but he can't afford to be sloppy on his next target. Tony taps his earpiece, pulls up another data feed. A lone gunner had gone through here five minutes ago, pushing someone in front of him- someone that could only be Happy. He pushes the door open slowly. This lab doesn't have a camera in it, beside the one on the doorway; they could be anywhere in here.

The room is huge, and seems to be glowing green. Tony blinks a few times before recognition dawns. He's surrounded by long vertical panels, each glowing faintly with light; draped in lines between each panel are long elaborate lengths of clear plastic, split into broad tubes, tapering here and there into funnels or widening into reservoirs. Flowing through all the tubes is a green soupy muck; against the light panels, the mess glows, dark and forest-green on some panels, paler yellowy-green on others. These are bioreactors. It's the algae lab- or one of them, at least; algae is Greenspring's major project now, and there's probably more work going on throughout the building.

There's a noise- soft, like something dragging- and Tony goes still. The light panels stretch away from him, going in either direction down the hallway; there's no line of sight there, and he drops low instead. Electrical cables droop from the panels, and with the shifting green light from the algae above, it's hard to see anything certain at a distance.

He holds his breath. There's a low background hum of noise, made up of the lights buzzing and the algae in its reactors going gloop, but in all that he hears that faint soft sound again. He turns, searching. Think. He knows you're in here; he's going to check around the edges, try and get the drop on you. Tony turns, rises slowly. If he can-

There's the scrape of a boot behind him, and he doesn't even turn around, just throws himself down. The light panel next to him shatters, and Tony rolls, kicks, and comes up in a crouch, shield in front. Another panel explodes, sizzling with electricity, and Tony rushes forward, plastic ripping beneath the shield. There's a man at the end of the row, firing at him steadily, and bullets are pinging off the shield and ripping holes in the algae tubes. Glop splashes him as he runs. He has to try and stay low; the trooper has time to aim now, and is trying to get past the edges of the shield, hit him in his lower leg or foot. Something caroms up and off the shield, and there's a sudden flood of algae down over his head, pooling in a soupy mess at his collar. The man is backing up as he gets closer, but he's still shooting with those steady even rounds, and Tony reaches back behind his collar and flings a glob of algae at the man. It splats across his face, covering his goggles, making him spit and gag. He scrubs at his face, trying to clear his vision, and Tony is close, closer, there. He ducks his head down and punches up with the shield. There's a ringing noise and the trooper collapses into a loose pile.

“Tony?”

“Happy?” It's off to the side somewhere. Tony runs down the aisle, trying not to slip on the algae dripping off his cuffs.

“Over here!” There he is, hands cuffed behind him and pushed up against a door. The relief is evident on Happy's face when he sees Tony coming around the corner. “Boss, I though he'd gotten you.”

“Are you okay? Anything hurt?”

Happy shakes his head. “I'm fine. A couple bruises and nicks, that's all.” Tony leans down to cut off the plastic cuffs, and Happy wrinkles his nose. “What happened? You look like the Swamp Man.”

“Very funny.” The restraints fall away, and Happy stands up, rubbing at his wrists. “You're sure you're all right?”

“I'm fine, Boss.” Happy tilts his head and gives him that sort of half-smile he has. “Knew you wouldn't be long.”

“Thanks, Hap.” To cover the unevenness in his voice, Tony claps a hand on his friend's shoulder. Happy does the same to him, and it's a hug, basically, or as close as the two of them get with each other. “Did they take the briefcase?”

“No, it's back here, he never got a chance to hand it over-” Happy scrabbles something off the ground, and a pulse of quiet relief goes through Tony at the sight of the case. He takes it from Happy's grasp and rests his palms on the surface for a minute, just feeling the coolness of the metal planes beneath his hands. Haider never touched his technology, never even got a glimpse at it, and Tony's more relieved by that than he realized.

“Boss?”

Tony shakes his head. “Right. Go out to the hallway, take a right and head up the stairs to the main level. I'll finish things up in here; Captain America is on his way with SHIELD support and a cleanup crew.” He cracks the lock on the briefcase, flips open the lid and rolls his hands over the grips of his gauntlets. The machinery whines and begins to grow down his arms, plates clicking into place. Tony drops the bottom half of the case on the ground and slides his feet into the holes that appear in the shining mess of metal that forms. “Damn, my phone-”

“Got it.” Happy pulls the receiver out of his pocket, then follows the line up to the earpiece and yanks it out of the way before the suit can close over it. The two pieces reach towards each other, interweave at the torso and finally settle, last panels clicking into place.

“Are you good?” Happy is hovering, unwilling to leave. Tony shrugs a few times, settling everything into place, then reaches up to flip back his facemask.

“I'm...wow, that's unpleasant.” He shifts again, making a faint squelching sound. “There's algae in every crevice I can imagine.”

Happy snorts out a laugh, and Tony grins as the faceplate comes down again. “I'm good. Would you go, already? Get upstairs, find a cute paramedic to patch you up. I have a meeting with a suspiciously Aryan businessman to get to.”

“I'll do that. Be careful, boss.”

“And don't run too fast, you might trip over a mercenary.”

 

 

The bottom level of the labs is ghostly. Down here in the lowest levels, there's no natural light; the overhead lamps flicker as Tony stalks down the hallways. Most of the labs are completely empty. The rest are obviously long defunct; useful parts and supplies have been scavenged, and what remains are broken bits of machinery. Occasionally he catches the hulk of some ancient piece of equipment looming out of the darkness.

The door for the central lab comes into view. Beneath the room number is an empty slot for a nameplate; the armor's HUD display picks out a tarnished bit of metal lying in the corner. The words “Mark Adler, PhD, Chief Scientific Officer” are still visible through its covering of dust and grime.

Tony stands for a minute, considering his options. The suit doesn't make that much noise; he's pretty sure that he arrived here unnoticed, if the lack of armed guards rushing out to meet him are any indication. He should probably head in carefully, take his time. Maybe wait for Steve and the SHIELD backup to arrive.

The hell with it. He lifts both hands, palms forward, fingers spread, and he hears the whine of the repulsors in the split-second before the door crumples in under a beam of fierce light.

Tony steps through the doorway and kicks the ruined door out of the way. Once the noises of tortured metal die down, it's almost silent in the lab. This place has been stripped clean. In the low half-light coming from a few stubborn bulbs, Tony can see empty rows of lab benches set around the edges of the room, a ventilation hood with its sash gaping. The one thing- the only thing- that remains is a cabinet set into the middle of the room; on top of it, behind thick panels of wavy glass, there's a lump of dull metal.

“Very nice. Isn't it, Mr. Stark?”

Tony whips around. There's a figure sitting in one of the abandoned office chairs, pulled up at the edge of a patch of shadow; a man, dressed in dark slacks and a dress shirt. His features aren't visible in the dim light, but there's only one man it could be.

“Mr. Haider.” Tony turns to face him, hands neutral at his sides.

“Tritium-enriched vibranium. Nothing like it in the world.” Haider continues on as if Tony hadn't spoken. “Imagine the things that could be done with it.”

Vibranium? “You're aware of the international restrictions on the possession of vibranium, Mr. Haider?”

“Stark, really.” Haider swings back and forth in his chair; he sounds amused. “Why should a little thing like that impede progress?”

“Did your boss teach you that?” Tony shifts closer, watches Haider as he shrugs.

“No, no, Mr. Stark. I learned that long before my...most recent alliance.” He turns into the light, finally, and Tony sees Haider's face. The Tosenkraft CEO is a handsome man, still young, with a chiseled face and bright eyes. “I have to say, though, that it has been a relief to work with an organization that is truly worthy of my talents.”

“I imagine it would take a creature like Red Skull to truly appreciate you, Haider.” Another step as the man laughs, eyes crinkling.

“Oh, Stark! You wish to insult me, and instead you heap praise upon me!” He chuckles. “The Skull is a peerless leader. His tactical abilities are unmatched, of course, but his vision of the world is his true masterpiece. A city, a nation, a world under his guidance would be unassailable, its citizens happy and proud, its resources wisely allotted. Dream of it, Stark.”

Tony keeps his voice neutral as he slides forward another step. If he can move to the left three more paces, he can get between Haider and the vibranium. “A dream for the purest, yes? Only the perfect Aryan citizens need apply?”

Haider spreads his hands. “You would expect us to share perfection with the mongrels and the parasites?”

Tony has been getting angrier and angrier, but that last comment forces him to bite back a sudden burst of rage. It takes him a minute to speak, but when he does, his words are slow and clear. “This ends here, Haider.”

The German looks at Tony keenly. “For once, Mr. Stark, we are in perfect agreement.”

There's a dull thunk, and the suit goes dead. Stone dead, not even a flicker of power, and the sudden weight of it knocks Tony off-balance; he wavers, staggering like he's drunk, and falls to his knees. The shield slides off his back and clangs to the floor, rolling in a tight circle before settling to a halt.

“Mr. Adler has been most helpful to my research team,” Haider continues, as Tony fumbles over his armor with one gauntlet. “Really, he's been wasting his time doing energy research. The man has a positive talent for weapons applications.”

His fingers touch a metal dart, stuck to the metal covering one flank; Tony wrenches it free and begins fumbling with the manual override switch he has hidden beneath a hip joint.

“Oh no, Stark, not so fast-” There's a chattering noise and the stink of ozone, and something hits him hard, right on the hip joint he's reaching for. Tony rolls with the blow, lands on his back. Haider is standing above him, fists poised to strike. He's wearing some sort of gauntlet or glove, something metallic and shining, its surface crawling with little blue-white veins of electricity. Haider punches down again; Tony rolls away, gets his fingers on the backup switch and pulls, and there's that surge of power as the suit comes back online- A fist connects with his shoulder, metal shrieking against metal, and the suit hiccups and dies again.

“No no no!” Tony swears, tries to wriggle away despite the weight of the armor. He can fix this; he just has to adjust the shielding. Haider is raining blows on him, hissing in rage- Tony hits the switch again, gets a half second of power before it shorts out. He can't- he's helpless like this, down on the floor; the armor protects him against the worst of the blows, but he can't fight back until he can reboot the armor. Ten seconds, he only needs ten seconds- there's a punch high on his ribcage that makes him catch his breath, then one-two-three right around the reactor set into his chest, and his world goes white with pain.

When he comes back, Heider has a gauntlet wrapped around Tony's throat, the electricity crawling up over his jaw. Tony can't seem to think straight. There's a burning ache spread over his chest; when he sneaks a hand down to boot the armor again, there's not even a flicker in response. Haider has retrieved Steve's shield from the floor. He's examining it with evident satisfaction.

“Did I thank you yet for bringing this back to me, Stark? Not very useful to me, of course, but I know Red Skull will appreciate having it as a trophy. And who knows? Maybe this vibranium will be the key to creating new shields like this one.” Haider cast a longing look at the cabinet again. “I have to say, I hope not,” he says, leaning down as if to confide in Tony's faceplate. “There are so many other uses for it. Dirty bombs, atmospheric poisons...perhaps, eventually, a new nuclear weapon. It would be such an easy way to clean the world for our new state.”

“Go to hell.”

Haider chuckles and tightens his grip, and even through the suit Tony has to arch his neck and gasp. “Ah, you can swear all you like, Stark. This is a banner day for Tosenkraft. The shield, the vibranium, and you and your suit in the same bargain! I wonder if I should sell you off to one of those supervillains of yours, or keep you around for a while? I could use a- AGGGHHHHH!”

Haider's head snaps back; the hand on his neck disappears, and Tony slams his palm on the reset switch and struggles onto his feet.

“Cap?” Ten seconds. There's a flash of blue mail in front of Tony. It's followed by the dull sound of a fist hitting flesh, and Haider grunts in pain. “Cap, watch for his hands-” Five seconds. Steve dodges across the floor in front of him; Haider is pursuing now, fists arcing through the air in blue streaks, his handsome features in a snarl.

Tony struggles forward in the suit; his foot hits something, and he bends over to grab the shield. “Cap!” One second. As Steve spins by on his next dodge, Tony tosses the shield at him, a lazy overhand throw like they do on the lawn, and Steve reaches out, plucks the shield from its path, and turns to block Haiden in a single smooth motion. The HUD flickers on in the suit, and Tony screams out three commands, running forward as he does. Cap swipes wide with the shield, angles the next blow so that Haider's hands are deflected down. He's open, face vulnerable to a hit, and Tony leaps, boot jets kicking in. He's in midair, one fist raised, when he feels the shielding shift, and Haider's attempt at a block glances uselessly off Tony's forearm as he slams down with the punch. The man just collapses beneath it, falling boneless to the floor.

“Iron Man!” Steve turns and grins at him. “Are you all right?”

“Cap.” Tony flips up the faceplate, grins back at him. “Fine. How about you? That was some good timing.”

“I got lucky today.” Steve turns to inspect Haider, who's groaning on the floor. “This is the fella who stole my shield, huh?”

“I don't know if he did it, but I'm pretty sure he's responsible for the theft.” Tony peers through the cabinet at the vibranium. “He was after a couple of other things, too. Is SHIELD up there? I'm pretty sure Nick Fury will want to see this.”

“Just up top.” Steve puts one hand over his ear and speaks in a low voice. “They're coming down.”

“Good.” Tony leans down and wrenches the gloves off Haider's hands. The electricity continues to flow over them, grounding itself in little threads on Tony's gauntlets. “I think they'll want to see this, too. Here-” Tony balances the gloves in the crook of one arm and pulls off his helmet with the other, then dumps the gloves into the helmet. “Keep those things from shorting out anything else.”

“You think you've won, you idiots?” Haider grimaces, spits blood on the floor. “I have controlling stock in Greenspring now. I own this miserable little company, now; it's mine! I'm going to gut it from the top down, take every last shred of money out of it and turn it into a Tosenkraft outpost. You hear me? This place is mine! And that means the vibranium is mine; I'll send every lawyer in the state after you to get it back-”

Tony sighs. “Cap, can I borrow your communicator?”

“Sure.” Steve hands it over and watches Tony tweak it a few times before putting it into his ear.

“Pepper, is the Greenspring CEO with you? No. No, I'm fine. Yes, I know- look, can you just put her on?” Tony rolls his eyes. “Ms. Kazi. You get those documents from Pepper? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Wow. Really? The SEC's already there?” He raises his eyebrows at Haider, still ranting on the floor. “Ouch. Freezing Tosenkraft assets? No kidding.” He listened for another moment. “Yes. Yes, I think that's a good idea. Talk to Pepper, I'll sign something. She did? That's good. Okay. Press conference tomorrow? All right. I'll call you.” He ends the call and prods Haider with a boot until the CEO looks up. “Well, Mr. Haider, assuming Nick Fury ever lets you out of his custody, there's a bunch of fine people at the Securities and Exchanges Commission who want to talk to you. They've frozen your assets. Any Greenspring stock you've ever purchased has been returned to the company. And just in case any of your associates gets an idea about making a power play... Stark Enterprises has just acquired a substantial minority interest in Greenspring Energy. Not enough to control the company, you understand; just enough to keep them stable while they recover from your shenanigans.”

Haider draws in a deep breath, face red; he gets out the words “You mongrel dogs-”, and then Steve steps up and hits him very, very hard across the jaw.

Tony unclenches his fists. “Thanks.”

“Don't mention it.” Steve breathes in deep, trying to calm himself. “Are you all right?”

Tony does a self-inventory. His chest still hurts around the arc reactor, but it's faded into a normal, if painful, soreness. He's going to have bruises where Haider hit him, and probably marks along his neck from the chokehold, but... “Yeah, I'm fine. I could use some painkillers, but I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?” Steve loops a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in close. “There's a SHIELD medic in the chopper, we can have him take a look at you. It'd only be a second.”

“Steve, I'm fine.” Tony can feel himself tensing up, even under that big warm palm.

“It's just-” He catches Tony's eye and closes his mouth on the next word. There's the space of a breath, and then Steve sighs out and rests his forehead against Tony's. Tony lets him, and for a few minutes the two of them just stand there, leaning into each other.

“I was worried about you.” Steve says it low, mouth close to Tony's, who gives him a lopsided grin in response.

“I had it under control, Steve. You don't have to worry about me.”

“I know you had it, Tony, I know you could do it. That's not why I was worried.” Steve slides his hand around from Tony's neck, rubs a thumb over the stubble on his jaw. Tony does his best not to shiver. “You're so...you're just...do you know how proud I am of you?”

Tony freezes.

“I mean it. You- today, you had everything, handled. All I had to do was just drop in at the end and back you up. And...Tony, the things you do every day; you go out and you run your company, and you try to make sure that everything they do, everything you do, is a good thing, and people tear you up for it.” Steve is quiet, still stroking Tony's jaw. “And even when you think you've failed, you pick yourself up and go back out there, even though you know they won't cheer when they see you. I'm so proud of you for that.”

“Steve,” Tony says, and the crack in his voice is threatening to dissolve into tears. He grabs Steve, instead, kisses him as hard and strong and sweet as he knows how. Steve cups his jaw in return, holds him steady in his big arms and licks across his mouth like he's sealing away some great truth, and Tony could stay here forever in the moment, his heart cracked and overflowing.

“Steve,” he says again when the break apart, their lips just touching. Steve gives him one, two, three more kisses, quick and light, and then smiles at him softly and rubs his hair, fingers catching against the dried algae.

“Trying out a new hairstyle here?”

Tony snorts. “That's a very long story. Did I tell you algae is the hot new biofuel?”

“You did, but tell me more. I think I still owe you dinner tonight.”

“Just as long as I get to take a shower first.”