Pls let the battle at least be balanced we dont need stark washing justin at every turn
HammerTime (MCU OC/SI into Justin Hammer)
- Thread starter JollyHippo
- Start date
I see and it's ironic SI Justin Hammer ended up acting like Killian who was so obsessed with Tony and didn't care if the latter actually changed, only the fact he wanted him to realize his superiority at last no matter what it takes.
It will be due to Tony being a genius of science while Hammer is a genius of business and PR.
So it's not a one sided battle here.
It is kind of funny how it worked out, the other thread have said it's like Doom vs Reed here almost.
I see. That is more accurate.
Although the difference is that both SI Hammer and Tony are both normal humans who own rich companies that made new technologies and stuff and made them global, while Reed and Doom are both superhumans who made respective advanced techs but never gave it to the world. For Reed, he keeps it at Baxter Building while Doom keeps it at Latveria.
This is what frustrates me about the SI. He's acknowledged multiple times that Stark is smarter and would make things better then him. He just understands the consumer better and can sell cheap. Knowing this he shoukd have bought up SI. He may be arrogant but I feel that's one thing he repeated to himself enough times to capitalize on.
Edit: Justin is on that please notice me senpai.
He's going to have to get more scientists to free up Vanko so he can go head to head with Stark
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- Location
- Canada (eh)
I'm kinda surprised that Justine didn't send a cease and desist for Starks patent infringement on the arc reactor and ask for royalties yet.
- Location
- The Internet?
Great update! Thanks for sharing it with us. It's always nice to see the other side of things in these stories. Loved all the character interactions, it was very well done!
He gets to call you Tony, but you call him Doc? Ho's your bro now, dude.
I'm happy he's happy. But doctors will still have a place, wherever Hammer clinics aren't, on expeditions lacking a cradle, and in the event that sort of technology goes down... also, humanity just might want to have people maintain and carry on that understanding of the human body. Just saying.
Good job capturing that aspect of Tony and Justin, by the way.
It's 2008, you're allowed to express your emotions!
*You're
He gets to call you Tony, but you call him Doc? Ho's your bro now, dude.
Heh, ha hoo boy.
I'm happy he's happy. But doctors will still have a place, wherever Hammer clinics aren't, on expeditions lacking a cradle, and in the event that sort of technology goes down... also, humanity just might want to have people maintain and carry on that understanding of the human body. Just saying.
Oh honey... his family died. Someone get this man all the therapy!
Don't do it! Then Vulture will have to catch you. And that would just be so embarrassing. Also, you haven't invented that armor that can latch onto you from a free fall yet!
It's like looking in a goatee'd mirror!
Why would the media show up? Tony's been back in the States for days!
They certainly could, but you're not in that kinda story, my man.
...So... how's the weather?
Honestly, this might be the most hurtful thing Hammer will every manage, because it will be this, forever.
Obi's know Tony's had an AI for... how long, now? He'd know better than to leave anything a robot mind could find, I would think. Of course, maybe the scare with Shaw might be enough to keep Stane on the straight and narrow... especially if he needs that golden goose to start cranking out eggs on an industrial scale, now. Probably not, but still...
Trans women are women, Tony. I know it's 2008, but you can be better.
Just a reminder that for all he's amusing to read, Tony's a billionaire, and billionaires are not our friends. You don't need to be in a Marvel Zombie 'verse to want to eat the rich.
Good job capturing that aspect of Tony and Justin, by the way.
Well, the changing circumstances might have changed that, remember Tony Stark didn't exactly share his shit either, mostly because MCU writers wanted an easy normal world that didn't change to limit complexity for the next movie.
Here the race is open, world is changing, so if Reed or Doom were around, they might have jumped in.
Honestly, with how completely he rolled over things in two months, and his businesses got set up for the future, he didn't really need those shares, money at this point is not a problem, and besides he was waiting for Stark to drop weapons for that in the first place, which is a situation that won't happen the same, so he'll just take the L on that opportunity and move on.
He is definitely getting more people, head to head to Stark he'll lose in any one field, thing is Tony can only do so much on his own, and lacks the facilities, supply chains etc to come near to matching Justin right now - so either way, Tony might go haha I just beat you in this one thing, loser.
Hammer on his throne made out of Vibranium smoking cigars, Coolio, I just like wasted you in these other six sectors of business, catch up scrub.
Not exactly going to go like that, but he has an advantage Tony can't match yet despite his genius.
Tony using arc reactor for himself is kind of something Justin can't really do much about, now if he tries to go into business selling them, that's another matter.
And considering Tony is coming out as a super hero soon enough, it's just a bad PR move to ask for royalties.
Tony always expects the media, and at this point he didn't know that as far as the media knew he's already there haha.
Yeah doctors won't be completely gone, still needed for plenty of things, but the major point of the profession is healing people and Yinsen is just happy.
And of course Tony just nicknames people, so Yinsen gets doc, which is really lazy, but perhaps he'll do better once he's had a few cheeseburgers.
You hit the nail on the head, Tony for all that we know him as a lovable scamp, was arguably kind of a horrible person.
And even if he got better, he's still so far above what any normal human would be like, that there's definitely some disconnect.
Let them eat cake!
Chapter 17: Migraines and Women - Possible Correlation?
Here's chapter 17: Migraines and women - Possible correlation?
So as a warning, Tony Stark is a bonafide genius, not a miracle worker.
He's not going to catch up to Hammer for a while yet, and definitely not in everything. I am not a business expert, this is all just made up for fun, but I still try to apply some minor amounts of logic to it.
That said, I still believe genius or not, you still need time, staff, resources, so Tony will have to catch up for a bit.
Remember, this is still a story about Justin Hammer.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc, I make no real money from this and it is entirely a free work from a fan. Don't sue, I is poor.
Hope you enjoy.
New York, Hammer Industries Blacksite.
"DNA extraction complete!" Cho exclaimed happily, giving him a cheeky grin.
Justin zipped up his fly, shaking his head, "I'm fairly certain that's not the scientific way to successfully extract a DNA sample." He pointed out, wryly.
Cho shook her head, striding over to a sample fridge, capping the vial full of… Science. And then placing it in the fridge. "Who's the scientist here?" She quipped, looking back over her shoulder with a coy little smile playing at her lips, "I say it's a fully common sense extraction method."
Justin wasn't going to argue too hard, he'd been expecting a blood draw or a cheek swab, and received something… Much different. "Are you sure you don't need a more conventional sample?" He asked, to make sure.
He didn't want to have to come back, he could only take Cho in small doses.
Cho puffed her cheeks out, "You gave me plenty to work with, not to worry, and at least you're less stressed now, right? You look dead on your feet." Her face took on a look of slight concern as she gave him a once over. "I could…." She started slowly, a glint of something else in her eyes.
Justin held his hands up, "No thank you, I'm perfectly fine." He looked towards the cradle that dominated Cho's lab, meandering towards it, hoping to derail any further 'Cho science' by asking, "And you're positive you can create Vibranium tissues and muscles?"
Cho nodded, an excited smile on her face as she walked over, stroking the top of her cradle with one hand fondly. "My baby can handle anything, it won't be a problem, the hard part will be incorporating your DNA in a way that doesn't weaken the structure or destabilize it."
"You're certain you need my DNA for it to work?" Justin asked again, slightly nervous to give Cho free access to it.
Cho shrugged, "Most of it." She said, her eyes wide and innocent, which he knew to be a dirty lie. "With Extremis, the Vibranium won't bind to you without your DNA within it, Extremis would handle it as an invasion or disease otherwise."
Justin nodded, feeling like he had to just trust that things would work out. The idea of adding Vibranium subdermal armor, or muscles and tissue to Extremis and the Super Soldier Serum had popped into his head when he'd basked at the cache of Vibranium they had from Klaue - so he'd immediately sought out Cho, remembering the cradle had built Vision in a future that would never happen.
It better never fucking happen.
"Well, I have that meeting with Doctor Hansen." Justin said awkwardly, Cho the one person he just wasn't sure how to behave around.
Except apparently for certain things, because he had no damn self control, he thought, annoyed at himself.
Cho immediately ran around the cradle and hugged Justin, her hands slipping down to grab at his ass as she pushed the limits of the hug.
"Okay, I'll talk to you later, Helen." He said quickly, extracting himself and leaving the lab at a fast clip, trying to make it seem like he wasn't running away.
In the lab, Helen Cho clapped her hands together eagerly, an unholy glint in her eyes.
"Yay!" She called out excitedly, staring intently at the sample she'd gotten.
She could do so much with this!
Having escaped Cho's lab, he soon found himself at the new cell holding the Winter Soldier, Maya Hansen standing outside it, waiting for him.
Justin peered through the reinforced glass, pleased to note that Bucky Barnes wasn't quite as robotic as last time he'd been by.
He was sitting comfortably in an armchair reading a well worn book, Lord of the Rings, if he wasn't mistaken. Instead of a barren cell, he had a writing desk, a bookshelf filled with literature, and a radio.
Quite a turn around, considering they hadn't completed the Extremis and Super Soldier Serum amalgamation yet.
Quite more than he'd expected, really.
"I disagreed with moving him to a more comfortable location, with less restrictions, but I stand corrected, Doctor Hansen." He acknowledged, sending her a fleeting and approving smile. Knowing the woman didn't care at all for the niceties, he didn't bother with effusive praise.
She was fully married to science at this point.
If only Cho could take some notes… He thought.
There were still many hurdles to cross of course in the conversion of the man, but the rapid progress seen already - was a good sign for his plans for the man.
Maya Hansen finished what she was doing, slipping the tablet into the crook of her elbow, stepping closer to the glass, "I can't take all the credit." She said matter of factly, pointing out several emitters in the ceiling, "With your hiring spree, we snapped up a young blowhard called Beck, who had some intriguing ideas that he lacked funding and technological know-how to implement."
Of course if there was anything Hammer industries had a lot of now, it was money and technological know-how, so they were a perfect fit then.
Justin glanced at the matte black emitters, they were simple looking small disks, implanted in the ceiling. Where have I heard the name Beck before…? He thought, before focusing on the now, "If you're telling me you've built a holodeck, I am afraid I'm severely underpaying you." He told Doctor Hansen dryly.
"Boys and Star Trek…" She muttered, shaking her head, her lips in a thin severe line, "This is not a so-called holodeck, Sir. It is a holographic illusion emitter."
Sounds like a holodeck to me… Justin thought, keeping it to himself, having a busy enough schedule without wasting time annoying one of his top scientists. "And this is how you've managed to come so far in the treatment?" He questioned, already thinking of the benefits of holographic tech for training his security division.
Doctor Hansen shook her head, "This is fairly new, as the Vanko's were too busy to assist, we've only been using it for several days at most." She frowned minutely, "It is coarse and unfinished and hardly lifelike as of yet, but the subject seems to respond well so far, so it is helping."
Justin raised an incredulous eyebrow, "You've gone from the Terminator to that?" He gestured to the solemn man sitting quietly and reading, no sign of a military posture. Although there were clear signs of tension in his face and the set of his shoulders."All of it in a few days, and you call it coarse and unfinished?"
Doctor Hansen gave him an exasperated look like he was particularly thick. Justin was not used to that, anymore. "Do you not read any of my reports, sir?" She asked sharply, "The therapy team we've spent a fortune on has slowly worked to get the subject at least comfortable, and got him to this stage - even if they've failed to ensure the subject is willing to cooperate with testing." She finished in a grumble, looking displeased.
Justin didn't exactly always have time to go through the minutiae of every email he received, but it was a lost cause to explain that to the good doctor, so he moved on, "Testing is no overly important yet, not without the solution anyway, we need the carrot, not the stick." He reminded her.
"Testing is always important." She stressed, looking annoyed, before she let out a huff, gesturing towards the cell, "As you've requested, he's available for a discussion, I trust you can handle the display, sir?" She asked somewhat tartly.
Justin gave her a dry look, "I do have an engineering degree."
She sniffed, "I never assume anything."
Justin shook his head, a wry smile appearing on his face, it was almost refreshing to speak with someone who really didn't give a damn what he'd achieved, as long as he kept the science funding coming.
Hansen made to leave, uninterested in the human angle of the experiment, Justin stopped her with a raised hand, one last question on his mind, "How is it going with Doctor Cho?" He queried hesitantly.
"Her expertise is doing wonders to the Super Soldier project, we'd probably be done already if she'd been here making herself useful from the start - instead of in a hole wasting her time." Doctor Hansen informed him archly, a small grimace on her face as she continued, "As for her mental state, you need to either unfuck her, or fuck her more, whichever method sets her straight again." She chided, definite disapproval in her voice. "She'd be twice the scientist if she didn't spend so much time mooning over you."
Justin sighed, and let her go, watching her walk off, already tapping away at her tablet again with a concentrated look on her face. He could only take so much of Doctor Hansen, despite the quaintness of her attitude.
As for Cho, if she was doing good work, he'd just leave it be as it was. His focus turned instead onto the Winter Soldier, as he stepped closer to the controls, turning the opaque glass clear, even as the speakers were turned on.
"Mister Barnes, I'm glad to see you in a better state, I'm Justin Hammer, the man responsible for your rescue." Justin said easily, a charming smile on his face, as Bucky stayed in his position, glancing his way from behind a curtain of hair - with a spark of intelligence visible despite the dullness of his eyes.
"What do you want?" Bucky asked quietly, placing his book down carefully, after placing a bookmark between the pages.
"To give you your life back, and to help save the world." Justin said simply.
There was no need to get overly complicated in this first meeting, it would just overload him. Being who he was, with his likely high level of suspicion to any offer he could make, it would just lead him in a circle of trying to find the trap behind Justin's words if he tried. So he wouldn't, not yet.
"Save the world, I've heard it before." Bucky said without interest, his expression flat.
Justin nodded slowly, "No doubt you have, and I wouldn't expect you to believe me quite yet, rest assured that even if you should refuse to assist at the end of your rehabilitation, I will let you go free with no strings attached."
Well… It's not going to come to that, Justin thought, studying the broken man in front of him. Therapy was slowly working, but the trigger words would still be there. Their method might not even work, in which case the man would never be free.
"Sure." Bucky said, not even bothering to show his disbelief, just blandly staring at Justin.
Justin sighed, pulling a chair forward, settling down for the long haul, gods this will be annoying… "The world is missing Steve Rogers…. The beating heart of America, it's patriotic soul. He would have wanted someone to pick up his mantle…"
Because fuck Steve Rogers…
Hours later, New York.
"What's next, Elena?" Justin asked, massaging his forehead wearily, fruitlessly fighting a migraine. "And remind me next time we're in New York to get a damn Helicopter, this traffic is ridiculous!"
They were in one of his armored limousines, cruising through rush hour New York traffic… Whatever he had next, they might arrive a day late at this rate.
After the whole Stark thing, he'd flown Elena back from Cairo, the workload was too large to handle without his personal assistant. Of course it would mean Sunil's workload would be larger, but quite frankly…
Justin could live with that.
"The meeting with New York's mayor over the plans for the new head office, and then your three pm with Wilson Fisk." Elena answered promptly, handing him several pills and a bottle of water, staring at him sternly until he took the medication.
Justin dry swallowed it, waving away the bottle of water, leaning his head back, the pills were useless anyway, something Elena should know, but he didn't waste his time arguing the point. He was still annoyed that Extremis apparently allowed headaches and migraines, but not the medication to relieve it.
"Cancel the meeting with the Mayor, he's our bitch at this point anyway, he doesn't need me there to hold his hand." Justin ordered quietly, feeling the shift in the leather seats as Elena moved away from him, to make the phone call without exacerbating his migraine.
Another unintended consequence of his success had led to the plans for Hammer industries headquarters to go ahead, years ahead of schedule. Hence the meetings and correspondence with the Mayor and city council, as well as the Governor and a myriad of other officials who had no business being involved but still were.
With outstretched hands awaiting a bribe.
So business as usual.
He couldn't wait for the invasion and buy land cheap in the aftermath as he'd planned before all of this set off. Quite frankly, he'd been more successful in his efforts than even his wildest dreams could have foreseen, and he needed his new headquarters yesterday. He couldn't wait four years, he needed to strike while the iron was hot.
And of course reinforce the fuck out of the building, because alien invasion…
He was keeping a close eye on Stark too, long distance cameras watching his Malibu Mansion like a hawk, his people in Afghanistan keeping an eye on Gulmira.
He was waiting for the reveal of Iron Man, because it would give him some openings. Tony had been arrogant in mouthing off to him about his superiority, Justin had a much stronger grasp on the media than the playboy could even imagine.
Once Tony stepped a foot out of line, Justin would bury him in bad press and busy work, chaining him to his board of directors, and slowing down his planned expansion.
He grimaced as his migraine intensified, all mental, his doctors had insisted. Justin blamed Stark for giving him more work, even if he himself was partly to blame for getting him out early.
He needed the damn man and his genius, but he was so damn annoying.
Granted, the migraine could also be from his recently upgraded implants. After weeks of working on it, the implants in his skull meant to stop mental intrusions and control, had finally been successfully upgraded by Ivan.
They no longer melted brains.
A definite upgrade.
With Extremis Justin had been able to handle that inconvenience, but now he didn't need to, the implant viable for anyone. That, of course, had led to everyone in his circle being given time for the procedure to get one, except Eileen who'd taken a leave of absence to deal with the Mystique situation.
The entirety of the management structure of Hammer Industries and his security division were on the waitlist to receive the same implants, upper management already halfway through the process.
Emma Frost and the like would not be able to fuck with him anymore. Also suck it Xavier!
Of course, Justin had taken it a step further, hooking his glasses into the implant, allowing him to send messages, craft emails and use the facial recognition software and everything else, with his mind - instead of having to train the software to react to certain eye movements.
Elena now had a similar pair of glasses on her face, albeit in a slimmer more attractive look, really setting off the hot secretary kink of his.
When she looked at him seriously with the glasses slightly down, just brrrr, Hammer like!
Thanks to the fact the glasses were so useful, the joke was spreading around Hammer industries that he was infecting people around him, as several of the highest levels of management were sporting glasses now - due to the convenience of being able to answer emails with their mind.
Stark blabbering about getting a set of glasses out for the public so soon, hah! Justin was already allocating factory space for the new product line, nowhere near as useful as his own, of course. But for the regular person, being able to use simple things like GPS, texts and emails through their glasses would be novel enough to sell, even if it took actually reading the manual to figure out how to use them properly and train the software to follow their specific eye movements.
Surely at least part of the general public would be intelligent enough to figure it out…
Stark was used to being the biggest dick on the block, Justin had fallen slightly into that during their meeting, knowing the man's skills - but once he'd calmed down, he'd realized the man really couldn't deliver what he'd promised. Not yet.
That didn't make the man any less annoying however.
Already a video was trending online of Stark answering a question about the H-phones while leaving a board meeting, because of course reporters would play into the whole rivalry thing.
"Hammer phones? I guess I can understand people buying inferior products when I wasn't available to show them the real stuff, Stark industries is going to release a whole new line of electronics GUARANTEED to make Hammer's look like toy phones making animal noises!"
Justin had been worried for a bit, until common sense and logic had set in. Stark was miles away from being able to actually deliver on such a promise. He had the capabilities to create something superior, but not the capacity or supply chain to just sweep the market like that.
All his factories were already producing other products, retooling and retraining wasn't the job of days, no matter how effective his AI was. It just wasn't possible to go from nothing to market in such a short time.
And if he switched off one of his current factories he'd risk being unable to deliver his already existing product lines to the military. So the man needed new factory space, new staff.
Good luck finding those easily, Justin was hiring so many people half of them didn't even have jobs, he just shuffled them off to Africa to help until he had an actual position for them. And that was still with his absolutely stringent background checks, or he'd have millions of new hires just spending time making roads in Africa while waiting for their real positions to be created.
At worst, Justin had a few months before he had to worry about Stark beginning to compete, and realistically, a year minimum. And he intended to ensure he was not in a worst case scenario. Stark and his genius was something he needed for the world, but it didn't mean Hammer would allow himself to lose to the man.
He already had plans in the work to limit the man's options.
While absolutely hammering Stark for overpromising, continuing the narrative of how untrustworthy he was through his media contacts. It helped that Tiberius Stone disliked Stark and was happily onboard for further tarnishing his reputation.
Elena sat back down next to him, her phone call done, she gently tugged on him, and Justin let himself fall into her lap with a tired sigh. She must have been very quiet in her call, he hadn't even noticed.
Or he was that distracted.
"Just rest, sir. I'll take care of everything until your meeting." She said soothingly, running a hand through his hair, long nails raking against his scalp, settling some of his stress.
Having been doing consistent 18 hour days for so long now, it didn't take long for Justin to fall asleep to the soft humming and singing of his personal assistant.
His last thoughts, why is she singing in Russian? It's beautiful…
Then sleep took him.
New York, Fisk international.
Slightly refreshed, Justin walked into Fisk international like he owned it, flanked by Domino and Elena.
They were immediately met by an odious little man, who showed them to a private elevator, meant to take them to the top floor of Fisk tower.
Thankfully, the weasel looking man didn't join them for the trip. Hammer got serious Grima Wormtongue vibes from the guy.
"What did I miss while I was dead to the world?" Justin asked, straightening out his cuffs, giving a quick polish to his cufflinks, knowing his people were smart enough not to reveal anything sensitive in someone else's building.
If Justin recorded sound and video in every one of his elevators, the damn Kingpin surely wasn't so lax as to follow privacy rules.
Elena sighed dramatically, "Tony Stark is in the news again, I'm afraid." With the way her lips were twitching he knew this would be good. Justin gestured for her to go on, already smirking in anticipation as the elevator climbed past the halfway point.
"He's been constantly locked in board meetings and the press keeps camping outside, waiting for a soundbite, and today, they managed to ask Stark about the arc reactor." Elena said, eyes glittering with malicious satisfaction.
Justin took in a deep breath, savoring it, "Please tell me he was his usual belligerent self?"
Domino chuckled, "If his previous statement went gold, this one went platinum, boss!"
Slightly wrong terminology, but good to know, Justin thought, rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation. "How bad was it?"
Elena smirked, looking inordinately pleased to be able to deliver good news, "He got annoyed at the consistent questions and said he could have cracked it anytime, reminding them of his genius, then dismissively said the world wasn't ready before."
Oh, Tony… This isn't the old world anymore…
The elevator reached the top, just as Justin closed his eyes and just savored it. Tony Stark was still the man that would cockily tell Congress to suck it, it seemed. He didn't realize he wasn't the media darling anymore - it had been a mistake of his inner circle to not keep him back.
Although he acknowledged how impossible that likely was. Pepper Potts was a miracle worker - but no one was that good.
This wasn't something that would hurt his bottom line, it wouldn't harm his business, not really, not yet. But it would set the narrative in stone, without Justin needing to do anything.
Tony Stark does not care about you.
Justin couln't out engineer Stark. But in logistics, media, planning and management, he was going to crush him.
He could already feel his migraine completely dissipating, the tiny niggling pain that still existed after his nap abating, his earlier stress about Stark's announcements lessened by his new gaffe.
Really, the man was going to make this easy for Justin, if he didn't wake up to the new reality and began acting like he needed to win people over. With Justin curing people from Alzheimer's and every deadly disease around, Stark couldn't afford to come off as the aloof genius unconcerned about the common man.
Mostly because Justin would continue to hammer him on it, just following up his continuing press campaign from before. His PR team's assertion that Tony Stark could have always done clean energy, but didn't care to help the average joe, or the poorer countries, fit better than ever now - it was something which definitely paid off with this one careless comment from Tony.
He stepped out of the elevator, into a perfect killbox, right before the Kingpin's penthouse office. His glasses immediately identified the twelve guards and their armaments, plus the hidden weapons emplacement behind the mahogany wood panels.
He eyed the security team, gesturing for Domino and Elena to join them, "Don't steal all their hearts now, girls." He quipped, strutting through the door that was quickly opened for him by a butler. Justin's glasses flashed, as facial recognition got a hit, as he glanced at the butler on his way through.
A serial killer as a butler. The Kingpin did have a sense of humor, it appeared. Although he doubted the butler was ever around for the more legal meetings, he was fairly well known in New York after all…
"Justin, welcome to the beating heart of my empire." The larger than life man said, clad in his usual white suit as he fixed himself a drink, "Drink?" He asked casually, holding the crystal decanter in one meaty hand.
Justin strode forward, a polite smile on his face, hiding his distaste. "Wilson, it's been too long, unfortunately I still have plenty of business to conduct afterwards, so no drink for me I'm afraid."
Wilson Fisk made an agreeing noise, grabbing his drink and making his way over to the large windows overlooking New York, gesturing for Justin to join him.
Justin held back a twitch at the temerity of this lowly criminal and stepped up to the window, hands behind his back as he coolly observed the New York skyline, already picturing his new headquarters rising far above this piddly little tower.
"A shame about Osborn beating you to the punch, I would have expected the military to be begging for you to be their supplier." Fisk murmured lowly, thoughtfully, taking a sip of his whiskey.
Justin met the dangerously intelligent eyes of the Kingpin of crime, quirking his lips, speaking up in an almost mocking drawl, "Norman can have his day in the sun, we both know he'll mess it up dramatically, the man's not well after all, and then I'll swoop in as the savior, again."
Fisk raised an eyebrow, face nonplussed, "Oh, not worried about the competition? I hear Frost industries are advancing power armor on their own too, France and Great Britain have already placed orders."
Justin hadn't heard that, which annoyed him, as he gave the Kingpin a searching look, what are you after with this conversation, Fisk? He wondered. The fact everyone was scrambling for inferior power armor annoyed him, because he didn't want a profiligation of the armors yet. At least he'd still hold the advantage, as only his armors could actually use actual arc reactors. Not that anyone but him and Stark could miniaturize the things so far anyway.
Of course Stark would be able to use them as well, but so far he hadn't debuted yet.
At least with the inferior works, they all depended on his batteries, so if any countries started misusing the armors against his interests… Well he'd quash that easily enough.
"Quality will win out in the end, there is no comparison to my armors." Justin said eventually, after a pregnant pause.
Fisk nodded, sloshing around the liquid in his glass, staring out at New York, "It is indeed." He muttered, "And if someone were to inquire what it would cost to get one of these armors for their most loyal subordinate?" He enquired softly.
Justin shrugged lightly, "I suppose it entirely depends on if I would find an endeavor like that worth it."
It was unlikely he'd end up following through on that, but if the Kingpin could offer enough of an incentive… One knockoff armor with low power wouldn't be much of a threat to him, and would allow the Kingpin to continue to project his power across New York.
At least until the city became Justin's city, once his headquarters was up, and the invasion defeated. In Justin's city, there would be no need for a Kingpin…
Fisk smiled, greed shining through briefly in his eyes, before he controlled himself, "Indeed, well, let's talk partnership then, you've come to me for a reason, Justin."
Justin nodded, pleased with the greed in the other man, his want for armors would make this deal much easier to push through, without him ever having to follow up on continuing the partnership later. "You expressed an interest in Extremis in Bern. I have decided what I want in exchange." He said with an easygoing smile.
Fisk gave him a measured look, likely recognizing he was in a limited bargaining position due to bringing up power armor before this discussion. "And what can Fisk industries do for you, Justin?" He asked mildly.
"Tony Stark will be massively ramping up his company profile, I want you to take no contracts with Stark industries or its subsidiaries for one year, stopping any you have going currently." Justin said, a feeling not far off from an orgasm running through his body at the flex of his own business and reputational power.
It was a heady feeling, controlling fates all over the country, sometimes the world, like this.
It was no wonder supervillains went a bit kooky at times.
Fisk mulled it over, eyeing Justin shrewdly, "You're asking for something that will cost me a fortune." He rumbled, despite knowing his bargaining position was weak.
Fisk international was a logistical company that although it did do work in shipping and international trade, it was mostly known for having a controlling interest in the transportation business in North America. If you saw a truck transporting something, odds where it belonged to Fisk, either directly or through one of his many logistics subsidiaries.
Justin had done the calculations, if Fisk refused to deal with Stark, SI's current business would see over a thirty percent drop in productivity until Stark found a way to replace the supply chain issues with other companies, companies that did not have the reach and support that Fisk industries had.
As for any expansion? Good luck with that.
No one knew quite how much Fisk really controlled as he hid behind several companies and subsidiaries through shell companies and tax havens, although Justin had come up with the number 70 percent give or take a few, by extrapolation and examining what he could find. The fact he controlled the teamster union as well, added to his complete dominance in the sector.
Not that most people knew that second fact.
This. This is why Stark would never beat him, because he didn't have the cojones to deal like this.
"One year of slightly lower income isn't going to break you, Fisk." Justin said dismissively, adding a slight carrot to make the deal go down easier, the man looked like he liked to eat after all… "My own company has the need for more trucks, so I'll happily pick up some of the contracts to keep you steady."
"It's still not enough, you're asking me to break contracts, it will impact my reputation, cost me millions in litigation." Fisk said coldly, appearing to be completely against the idea.
Justin knew better.
He scoffed, turning back to the view, speaking as if unconcerned for the reception of the words, "We both know your real reputation, Fisk, don't act like this is that much of an impediment, like you can't bribe or threaten judges to tie everything up or dismiss it outright…" Justin smirked slightly, glancing back at the Kingpin, "And we both know you can use your subsidiaries to take the brunt of the reputation loss, so no personal loss for yourself - your main company will be insulated from the consequences so don't try and play the player, we both know you'll agree to this."
Fisk seethed and didn't respond for a minute, the big man taking a steadying breath as his hands clenched. Justin knew no one talked to Fisk like this, no one that lived long anyway.
Justin luxuriated in the feeling of watching the Kingpin have to just take it, because he wanted what Justin had to give.
And because for once, the Kingpin wasn't the biggest shark in the room, and he knew it.
The big man finished his drink in one big gulp, turning to Justin, his body language calm once again, "You aren't entirely wrong, but you're still asking for me to put considerable expenses onto my companies, at the very least put the power armor on the table." He entreatied.
Justin laughed, cold and amused, like hell, take what I'm giving and swallow it you fatass… He stepped away from the window, "If regeneration and decades more of life isn't good enough for you, perhaps you'll find someone else to do business with you?" He said, moving to leave.
He got ten feet before Fisk growled under his breath, "Wait."
Justin turned, a questioning eyebrow raised, "Yes?"
Fisk stepped away from the window, "No power armor, we'll leave that open for the future, I am… Open to your idea, but need something more to sweeten the deal."
Justin scoffed, not open to giving away anything more to what was basically a simple monster, with some extra pocket change, "Is that so? I believe my offer is practically charity as it is, giving pseudo immortality for the price of less business for you for a year and a bit of tarnish on..." He searched for the words for a moment, a sardonic look on his face, "Your no doubt virgin-like reputation."
"This is not how business is done, Justin." Fisk said warningly, his bass tone almost echoing around the office, giving a perception of strength.
Justin had transcended normal business practices now. The likes of Shaw was a threat, so was Emma, so was Stark, and Osborn even in some small way, but Fisk? What was he going to do? Send Bullseye after him again?
That worked out so well the first time…
Like hell he would give anything extra for the man who'd tried to kill him, even if ineptly.
He would use the Kingpin, and then one day in the future, he would end him. Because he was well aware that if it weren't for the Kingpin wanting, needing, what Justin had on offer - he'd still be trying to kill him.
Fisk was small minded, too wedded to the idea of New York, too stuck in his mobster ways to truly thrive internationally like Justin was. Justin brushed some imaginary dust off his cuffs, making to step away again, "I hold all the cards, I decide how business is done, Wilson." He said, walking away.
As he'd thought…
He didn't get within five feet of the door before the Kingpin capitulated.
Extremis and the potential for power armor above and beyond what the military would have, was too strong of a lure.
Justin knew people.
Another avenue where he'd beat Tony Stark.
Where he'd already beaten him, in his humble opinion.
New York, later that evening,
"Hammer! Where's revenge, huh?" Ivan shouted the second Justin walked into the room. "My revenge!"
Considering the spread of vodka bottles, Ivan had been busy for a while. Justin grimaced as he stepped around the mess, somewhat glad to see that the elder Vanko wasn't present.
Trust Ivan Vanko to create a super Vodka to get around the fact Extremis made it impossible to get drunk…
With Extremis, drinking alcohol was entirely for flavor now, and well… Ivan was hardly chugging Vodka bottles on the regular because he liked the flavor, was he?
"Ivan… I believe I told you that revenge wouldn't be something as simple as death…" Justin admonished his top scientist.
Between Vanko and Cho… Why couldn't people be less complicated? Was it too much to ask for well adjusted worker bees?
Ivan blinked heavily, trying to pour vodka into his mouth, his mouth moving, as he poured the bottle two feet to the left of his mouth, the liquid hitting the floor, soaking into the mess of take out containers.
Jesus Christ, when they emailed me about the issue, I hadn't expected this…
"Stark is enemy, need to pay, you said." Vanko slurred, trying to point at him, but missing by a mile.
"He'll pay, he's already being humiliated in the media, and we're miles ahead of him, you'll still get that Nobel prize, you, the creator of arc technology, not Stark." Justin pointed out, not sure how much of a point there was to it, Vanko was obviously absolutely shitfaced, and likely wouldn't remember a word that was said.
Ivan scrambled over the mess, the accumulation of filth gathered only over the two days he'd stayed here, waiting for Justin to come to New York and meet him - he exclaimed happily as he found a large needle, with a glowing liquid inside. Before Justin could do more than open his mouth to protest, Ivan inserted it into a vein.
"You better not be on drugs, Ivan!" Justin blustered, not sure what to do.
Ivan groaned, settling down onto the bed, his eyes clearing up, "Is quick fix to much drinking." He muttered, holding his head in his hands, greasy hair hanging down like a curtain, his tattoos very visible against pale skin.
Justin pinched the bridge of his nose, "You invented super alcohol and immediate sobriety?" He questioned, before he had a thought, frowning at the now empty syringe. "Can you make it less glowy, and work for normal alcohol?" Seeing the potential for a new product.
But not while it glowed like radioactive waste… People might be slightly hesitant to inject that, even when shitfaced.
Ivan groaned again, "Still get hangover." He complained, and Justin let it be, there wasn't much point in instant sobriety if you couldn't skip the hangover.
Perhaps as a tool for soldiers or his security, in case they'd been drinking, as a way to get sober quickly. It was unlikely for it to be very useful as it was for the public market, yet.
He'd have to see if he could get Maya and Helen to look at it, Improve it.
But they wasn't why he was here, so he stepped closer to Ivan, stepping over a pizza box that had been haphazardly thrown onto the floor. "So, Ivan, I've been told you're displeased?" He asked softly, not wanting to make the hangover worse.
Ivan glared at him from under his curtain of hair, "Da, why Tony Stark not suffer more?" He demanded.
Justin frowned, "The man has shrapnel in his chest constantly moving to his heart, and an arc reactor shoved into his chest cavity to keep it from killing him, he must be in constant pain." He pointed out, hoping Ivan wasn't going to be problematic about this.
He still couldn't have Tony die on him, not even for Ivan. And he really didn't want to lose his golden goose.
Ivan tilted his head, mulling that over, "Good start." He decided, still looking angry, the mullish look not leaving him, "Not enough, da? He not realize yet, how him and his father, ruin lives."
"What do you want, Ivan? I'm not killing Tony Stark." Justin said firmly, arms crossed. "And frankly this behavior is beneath you, you're the man that pioneered Arc technology, power armor, and a dozen other inventions - not to mention your assistance on the cradle and Extremis… Tony Stark is an afterthought."
Ivan slowly grinned, grunting out his approval of his accomplishments being listed. "Those are good, da, but still not the crying of Stark's women, still not broken sad man paying for sins." He finished gutturally, a vicious sneer breaking out on his face, replacing the grin.
Justin reiterated his question, "What do you want, Ivan?"
Because he needed to solve this, his main man had been spending two days being utterly pathetic instead of doing his job. And his job literally revolutionized the world.
Justin couldn't afford to have Vanko switch off, the entirety of Earth depended on men like him.
Ivan looked up suddenly, his bloodshot eyes deadly serious, "Get me meeting with Stark. I tell him myself."
Fuck.
"... Alright, I'll see what I can do, but it might take a bit, buddy, okay? It's not exactly easy to meet the man right now, especially with any request from me." Justin said, giving himself some time to figure this out.
Damn his people for being actual people! Why did they have to have wants and needs that were so damn complicated. What was wrong with money?
It used to be that people just wanted a boatload of money.
His people though… They wanted complicated shit.
Ivan Vanko and Tony Stark in a room together…
That's only going to end well, he thought glumly.
A week later, Andrews Joint Air force base,
"See, I take you to nice restaurants, great little places with amazing food. And where do you take me when we both have the chance to hang out? An Air force hangar." Hope teased him, nudging him in the ribs as they walked into the hangar. "Are you absolutely sure you're supposed to be a player?" Her grin was warm, and she didn't seem to be actually upset, curious if anything, so Justin let the teasing flow over him.
"I'm sure you'll be suitably impressed in short order." He said with a mysterious smile, gesturing to the grouping of people that were standing further in.
Within which there was a very recognizable person, with a very recognizable security detail around him.
"Justin!" Hope hissed, looking flustered, "That's the President of the United States of America!"
Justin smiled proudly, walking forward with some swagger, patting Hope's hand as held onto her arm, "It's not a big deal, I asked him to be here and meet you is all." He said casually.
Hope put a hand to her hair, hissing out of the side of her mouth, her voice slightly squeaky, "Justin! I can't meet the President of the United States of America! I didn't wash my hair today!"
"Your hair smells amazing, and so do you." Justin assured her, feeling a little bit put out, the emphasis on the title, the slight panic, why did she never act like that for him?
It was just Ellis, no one important.
Hope's cheeks tinged pink, as she grasped his hand, nails digging into his skin, "Justin, you can't say something like that!" She almost wailed, "Not when I'm about to meet the President of the United States of America!"
Even as she continued to panic slightly, she sported a small pleased smile though.
"Stop saying it like that!" Justin chided her, wondering if his plan was about to backfire on him. She might be too shocked to listen properly.
"Ellis." Justin said with a slight nod, as they got close to the man, his secret service protection just a few feet away.
Hope immediately slapped his arm, turning to Ellis right after with a horrified look on her face, "I'm so sorry Mister President, he's not house trained yet." She rushed out,
Excuse me? Justin thought, deeply offended.
President Ellis smiled affably, shaking Hope's hand, "Not to worry, Miss Van Dyne, I'm well used to Justin by now." The way he said it, despite his smile, did not indicate that it was a pleasant connotation.
This is not going quite as planned… Justin thought, beginning to feel quite annoyed, sending Ellis a warning look.
"And there is Colonel Rhodes." The President said with a pleased smile, "Welcome to our little mysterious get together, Colonel." He said, rubbing his hands together.
Justin immediately grasped Hope's hand again, now that the President had let it go. Hope staring curiously at former Colonel Rhodes.
Rhodes walked up, escorted by a member of the secret service, looking wary at spotting Justin in the gathering, "It's an honor, Mister President." He said strongly, before grimacing minutely, "I am no longer in the military however, so I can't answer to Colonel."
It looked physically painful, Justin observed, for the man to not only admit that, but to be forced to correct the commander in chief.
"Well, that's part of what we are here to correct." Ellis said, switching to a more serious mien. "I have an offer, for both you, Colonel Rhodes, and you, Miss Van Dyne, in regards to serving your country."
Rhodes immediately straightened up even further, somehow, while Hope looked politely confused, but not quite willing to ask the President what he was smoking - to lump her in with an obvious career soldier.
Justin had set this entire thing up, using the President to lend gravitas to the occasion and to convince the two of them of his desires. Of course Ellis would get what he wanted through it as well, just not as much as Justin would…
"First of all, irregardless of what you may choose here today, your rank and career has been reinstated by request from a very important person to national interests." Ellis said dryly, everyone turning towards Justin, who waved at Rhodes, a coy grin on his face.
"I assume you accept as much? Obviously your previous position as the liaison to Stark industries is yours if you desire it as well." Ellis offered, hands behind his back as he regarded Rhodes.
Justin hadn't added that second part that was the President adding his own spin, but considering Justin had access to all the juicy intel as part of the World Security Council, he knew that Stark had already managed to run off two new liaisons - this week. So in the end, it was a sensible option.
Rhodes looked like he'd lost his voice for a moment, before he snapped a picture perfect salute, "Yes sir!" He said with conviction.
"Good… Boys, unveil Hammer's gift, please." Ellis said, waving to his security detail, who immediately moved to the side of the hangar, where something was hidden by a large hanging tarp.
The tarp was dropped, unveiling something that drew gasps from both Hope and Rhodes, and got the President's eyes glittering with glee.
"I give you the War Machine." Justin said grandly, stepping in and taking over. Not quite identical to what would have been, since Vanko engineered it, but the look was similar enough. "It will be on loan to the US Air Force under the stipulation that its pilot is Colonel James Rhodes, and some other small conditions…"
Rhodes was looking at him like he was crazy, "Define conditions," He said quickly, eyes roaming across the suit of armor, before his eyes widened as he obviously came to a realization. "Shit, Tony is going to kill me!" He moaned out, before he realized the company he was in and immediately apologized, "I'm sorry, Mister President."
Ellis scoffed, "Son, I've heard a lot worse than that before in the Senate, nothing to worry about."
"As for the conditions." Justin piped in again, practically skipping forward, "The President can explain that, it's where you come in as well, Hope, dear."
Ellis nodded, as Justin came up to stand next to him, "The United States of America, has hired Hammer industries to provide private security through a superhero team to protect us from threats like Wakanda super soldiers, Magneto or worse dangers, that can not easily be deterred by conventional forces."
"Like from a comic book?" Hope asked skeptically. "Superheroes, really?"
The men all wisely decided not to clarify things with the woman, because some things were just sacred.
"War Machine will be available to you on the condition that you're available for this team in case of global or national threats." Justin said, a shit eating grin on his face as he peered smugly at Rhodes. "You do owe me a favor, Rhodes…"
Of course he'd be used by the military for the most part, Justin could hardly trust him for most missions, but it was just delicious to 'steal' Tony's best friend for the real threats, which was why he had entreated Ellis to make the offer. Rhodes was a die hard patriot, he wouldn't, couldn't, say no to this.
Rhodes seemed to be thinking hard, looking conflicted, so they left him alone for the moment.
Justin and the President both turned towards Hope, both men rearing back slightly at the very cross look on her face, her arms crossed under her bust as she tapped a foot impatiently on the cement.
It seemed she'd realized something, and whatever it was she was none too pleased about it.
"And me? Is there a reason all this had been decided without even asking me if I wanted to be dragged into it?" Hope said coolly, her eyes flashing as she glared at Justin, "Apparently you know about… That! Have you been spying on me? And you didn't bother talking about it once!"
Justin started to feel like he might have made some slight miscalculations. "Ah, I wanted it to be a surprise…?" He said, stepping back slightly, using the President of the United States as a shield.
The secret service did not look impressed with him.
Hope snorted, shaking her head, before looking at Ellis, "I'm sorry, Mister President, I assume my misguided friend has deigned to share things about me?"
Ellis hesitated for a moment, before a practiced politician's smile slid into his face, "About you wielding the Wasp suit? He did inform me, quite recently in fact. He argued quite strenuously that you were perfect for this hero team."
Justin nodded quickly, "You're absolutely perfect, Hope!" He said, hoping to score back some brownie points.
Hope pointed at him, "You, shut it!" She hissed out, "I'm still mad at you!"
Ellis looked between them, seemingly amused at Justin's situation. "Should I take that as a no, Miss Van Dyne?" He queried.
Hope shook her head, her ponytail swishing through the air, "No, Mister President, but I'd like to know more about how this works before I sign on the dotted line so to speak."
Ellis looked at Justin, who didn't want to speak up and draw Hope's ire again, not when this whole plan was to manage to recruit her and Rhodes, mostly her.
Ellis chuckled, looking more amused by the second, "Of course I'll lay it out for you Miss Van Dyne, and you as well Colonel Rhodes." He gestured to the War Machine armor, "You'll be joining the team already consisting of Whiplash, Vulture and the Scorpion, with one more name pending, depending on evaluations." He glanced at Hammer, who silently shook his head, before continuing, "You'll be officially sanctioned by the United States government to act within our borders as you see fit on matters of national or global security, and we'll quickly achieve the same with NATO I'm sure, making it legal for you to intervene there as well." He paused, looking worn all of a sudden, "With the state of the UN and everything going on across the world, I do not know how many other counties would be willing to allow your team through its borders, so we'll have to see about that."
"Is that… Legal, Mister President?" Hope wanted to know.
Ellis smirked briefly, "I'll make it legal." He promised, before chuckling, "I'm sorry I had to, but not to worry, Miss Van Dyne, all the legalities have been taken care of, at least for our country."
"What's the name of the team?" Colonel Rhodes asked warily, which still indicated his tacit acceptance.
President Ellis looked slightly pained, "As it is a private team hired by the United States government, naming rights belonged to the man running and paying for the upkeep of the team…"
Hope and Rhodes both stared hard at Justin.
"The team name is Hammer, isn't it?/The team name is Hammer, isn't it?" They both said at the same time, both sounding absolutely done.
Justin smiled excitedly, "You're saying it wrong, it's H.A.M.M.E.R." He corrected them, thrilled that his ploy worked in getting Hope onboard, she was playing hard to get, but he could tell she would sign up.
Before he got Ellis involved, he'd doubted his chances, precisely why he got him involved - it was hard to say no to the President asking you to do a solid for the country after all.
Some people were silly like that, thinking that a man deserved loyalty just because he managed to hoodwink more mouth breathers into voting for him.
Hope looked at him through narrowed eyes, "Any chance you had of getting this!" She gestured to herself, "Just died an agonizing death." She promised severely.
Justin grimaced.
She'll grow to like the name, he thought optimistically.
A day later, White house, Washington D.C.
"Your benefactors speak highly of you, but I'm unsure what exactly it is you're hoping to achieve here." President Ellis told his guest, in the oval office.
Frankly, it was nice to deal with people without being almost summoned, like it was with Justin Hammer.
He needed the man's money to get re-elected, or at least needed it, because if he pissed him off and got him to back the other side, he'd lose.
After the side show at Andrews, it was nice to get to feel properly Presidential again, with his guest showing all proper levels of respect.
The man having had several Senators of both parties vouch for him to boot, not something Ellis saw often anymore in the increasingly partisan world of politics.
He was practically a lock for one of the Congress seats as well, an oddity for an independent in a race to replace hundreds of Congressmen.
Bolivar Trask smiled grimly, "Only the salvation of mankind, Mister President."
Malibu, California
Tony threw the remote down in disgust, having turned off the TV beforehand, to save himself from the absolute lunacy that was the press.
Obie, sitting across from him and smoking a cigar, shook his head slowly, taking the cigar out of his mouth, pointing it at Tony, "I warned you, Tony. It's a brave new world, the kind of shit you could get away with before, just doesn't work any longer." He gestured to the turned off TV, "You can't say whatever you want anymore and expect it will wash off due to your genius, there's another one on the board and he's more popular than you."
Tony gave him an annoyed look, "So you've said, repeatedly." He drawled sarcastically before he frowned, his mind drawn to the reporter, feeling annoyed at the man for asking him in the first place, and at himself, for his flippant devil may care answer.
In his defense, the public used to love that exact attitude.
Hell, his PR team used to play it up, because it sold. The devil may care playboy with a genius no one could match - people loved that shit.
It had been over a week and the media was still playing it over and over again, different talking heads ripping him for being elitist.
Since when was that a bad thing? He wondered.
Pepper piped in, face severe as she crunched numbers, having followed the damage on every network, "With Hammer providing clean energy and Panacea, sometimes at cost even, his reputation is through the roof, and people are comparing the two of you… It's not coming off well so far." She said with a wince, drawing a dark look from Tony.
Stop bringing up Hammer… He was ten times the man that phony ever was, even if he begrudgingly admitted the man at least knew how to hire good people and take advantage of them.
He'd been fighting with the board for over a week now, pushing his improvements, struggling to get them all through. Clean energy was one where he'd failed time and time again, even Obie had refused, claiming the timing wasn't there yet.
He didn't care, Arc reactor tech was his, even if he hadn't commercialized it, because he hadn't figured out how to make it useful yet before his vacation time in the desert. But he'd begrudgingly had to acknowledge it was too hard a battle to wage right now.
Hammer had advantages that were just hard to beat at the moment to enter the energy sector. He'd hoovered up all the talent for one, Tony not able to compete when his comprehensive health plan - the best in America - was suddenly worth less than jackshit compared to free Panacea for Hammer industries employees.
Not to mention the absolute bullshit political support Hammer had across the world - how the hell he'd managed Tony couldn't understand. Probably illegal shit… He thought darkly.
Tony wasn't a damn criminal, but he'd admit crime definitely seemed to pay off in this case. And Justin Hammer was definitely slimy enough to be doing some backroom deals…
He could build arc reactors no problem, Jarvis had already analyzed Justinium (ugh!) and he could easily synthesize the same. But he had neither the personnel to run it, nor the money to undercut Hammer, who in Africa was literally losing money selling contracts to build arc reactors as a charity case to the poorer countries.
He didn't have the infrastructure either, to begin synthesizing the new element to the level Hammer was. Let alone the problems that came from the douche no doubt patenting it, artificial products not found in nature could be held solely to the patent owner even down to the manufacturing process after all. So Tony had been forced to agree with his godfather. Pick a battle you can win, space, consumer electronics, robotics.
If he spent all his time on clean energy, he'd just fall further behind everywhere else, he'd have to make do with arc reactors for his own factories… And ugh, use Justinium under royalties or something, he'd put the lawyers on it.
With Hammer's health plan and good (Insane)PR, Tony couldn't even hire enough people trained to do the jobs he needed done. Everyone wanted into Hammer industries, they'd lost fifteen percent (!) of their own workforce for just that, while Tony was gone. Which in a way was a good kick in the pants, as he'd been forced to come up with a solution for the future and studied plans with Jarvis to invest heavily into robotics.
If he couldn't have the staff, he'd build his own staff, with the benefit of not having to pay them or worry about healthcare, and he'd let Jarvis run his factories down to the last man - ensuring quality control.
He was beginning to play around with a second AI, he might need it if he was going full in on robotics.
Sadly, that all was likely at least a year or two away before it was reality for even a few factories, let alone all of them.
Plus… It wouldn't be a great PR look either, he knew. Having to think about those kinds of things now.
He had severely underestimated how much Obie had been doing over the years to make things work after he'd come up with a brilliant idea - never having involved himself much in the process involved after creating something.
"The world's changed too much in two months…" He didn't whine, just complained, like a man. He didn't usually have to worry about the logistics, it took care of itself.
Except now he'd been hit in the face with the fact that Obie was the one who usually took care of it, and even he had limits.
Like scrounging up factories, offices and staff, for an expansion in several sectors all at once. While trying to get out of selling weapons.
The board was throwing a hissy of epic proportions, hence why Tony had been forced to actually go to board meetings. Everyday. This new world was lame and annoying.
His suit was taking longer than expected due to all the interruptions and meetings he was forced to attend. If he could replace his board with robots as well it would certainly make for a smoother process…
"We need to get a better PR team." He acknowledged distastefully, pretending he didn't see the knowing look between Obie and Pepper. He wasn't a complete manchild.
"We have a PR team, I believe their last email to you mentioned 'Don't speak to the press without it being a pre-scheduled interview', sound familiar?" Pepper asked, doing air quotes as she brought up the issue, voice dry.
Tony looked at her, pursing his lips, "Isn't it your job to handle my email?" He said, making a disapproving sound, "Way to fall down on the job, Pep!"
"It is my job, just like it was my job when I told you that exact sentence over a week ago, before your board meeting, reminding you." She replied, managing to sound ever drier than previously.
Obie coughed, drawing their attention, as he put his cigar out in the crystal ashtray on the table. "Tony, I've hired you a PR coach, they're going to be with you for a month, don't go anywhere in public without your coach, we can't handle more bad press, not with how good Hammer looks comparatively."
Tony really was getting tired of the H word, so he immediately pivoted to something else, "Is she hot? I bet she's hot, you got to be, to work in PR." He spoke out of the side of his mouth at Pepper, who grimaced.
Obie answered instead, looking serious, "What kind of fool do you take me for Tony? It's not a woman for God's sake, not with your impulse control - please control yourself for five minutes, we can't keep taking beatings, there's only so many times we can take a count before the bell rings."
Tony thought that was a little bit unfair. He'd already provided a dozen defensive upgrades that would sell with the military, plus a new phone, watch and tablet configuration to enter the consumer electronics market with style, it wasn't like he was being lazy.
Hell, he wasn't even sleeping, so they couldn't say he wasn't working!
Although he'd had to start taking naps lately, due to allowing Yinsen into the workshop to help with the suit - and the man was annoyingly pedantic about stupid things like eating, showering and sleeping.
Tony was going to get PTSD on his PTSD because of his disapproving stares.
The man had saved his life, so he felt he owed him a lot of leeway, but now he was ridiculously acting like his damn nanny or something. And of course that traitor Jarvis was completely supporting him in his quest.
Tony had never needed sleep before, he didn't need it now, didn't have time for it.
He had hundreds of inventions to bring into the light, to show Hammer what was what. Let him have his slices of the pie, but Tony would go down in history as the real innovator. And he could do it totally guilt free, since Hammer had started it all and completely thrown the world into insanity, it wasn't Tony's fault now if a tech race caused further instability, he didn't start it.
"Tony…" Obie said, drawing his attention again, as he'd drifted off, studying Pepper, who was tucking her hair behind her ears self consciously, in a way that looked just perfect.
"What?" He asked, defensively.
"You don't do the business side, you're the ideas guy, I get it. Why don't you leave it all with me, huh? You sit in the lab and knock out more about this robotics thing, and some knick knacks - " Tony was immediately offended, knick knacks! As if! It's all the best new thing! "- And I'll deal with all the business and PR side of things, okay?"
Tony sighed, the many hours of no sleep pressing in on him, he eyed the worried looking Pepper idly, wondering what he was even doing wasting time, when Obie was making perfect sense.
"Sure, Obie, you handle all the business stuff, I'll wow you with what I can whip up!" He said, an easy grin on his face that hid the stress and nightmares crawling under his skin.
He'd get over it soon enough, he was fine now. Fine.
Obie can handle it,
He's right, I'm more of the ideas guy anyway… He thought, mind already turning to the necessary fixes needed to implement a fully robotic production line for all of his factories.
Before he could completely disappear into his mind, his eyes caught on to Obie's phone as he checked on something, cheek twitching in annoyance.
"Wait… What phone is that, my trusted and respected godfather who would never betray me?" He drawled out.
Obie choked on his spit, almost fumbling the phone. "What!?" He exclaimed, staring wide eyed at Tony.
"Your phone, what is it?" He asked again with narrowed eyes.
Obie looked relieved for some reason, as he slipped the phone into his pocket, not answering Tony. "Well, I got to go smooth things with the board, Tony. Listen to your PR coach, alright, they'll be good for you."
"Obie! The phone, a competitor!"
"It's not really until we've put one out, Tony, and it's the best one on the market right now, it's security is top notch…"
"Traitor."
Author's note:
Tony Stark can't just jump into the pool and match what Justin Hammer spent two years preparing for. Logistics doesn't work that way. He needs factory space, trained people, money, support from the board, PR, a thousand little things that don't happen in a week.
The other difference is simple. Tony Stark doesn't play the game as ruthlessly.
The hearing in Iron Man 2 would never happen to Justin, because he'd either A, ensure it could never happen in the first place, or B, bribe/ruin/kill anyone that he needed to bury it first so it still doesn't happen.
Justin in a single meeting, while offering something very desirable, sure, still managed to hamstring Tony from one conversation with Fisk. (Surely that arrogance won't backfire either, right?)
Because he is willing to play that game, and Tony doesn't even think in that way.
Now Stane on the other hand…
Now before people begin to freak out, no this doesn't mean Tony Stark sucks now, it means he needs time.
Of course, in certain things like space, Tony isn't far behind… Repulsor tech actually puts him ahead of the ball game.
Cheers
So as a warning, Tony Stark is a bonafide genius, not a miracle worker.
He's not going to catch up to Hammer for a while yet, and definitely not in everything. I am not a business expert, this is all just made up for fun, but I still try to apply some minor amounts of logic to it.
That said, I still believe genius or not, you still need time, staff, resources, so Tony will have to catch up for a bit.
Remember, this is still a story about Justin Hammer.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc, I make no real money from this and it is entirely a free work from a fan. Don't sue, I is poor.
Hope you enjoy.
New York, Hammer Industries Blacksite.
"DNA extraction complete!" Cho exclaimed happily, giving him a cheeky grin.
Justin zipped up his fly, shaking his head, "I'm fairly certain that's not the scientific way to successfully extract a DNA sample." He pointed out, wryly.
Cho shook her head, striding over to a sample fridge, capping the vial full of… Science. And then placing it in the fridge. "Who's the scientist here?" She quipped, looking back over her shoulder with a coy little smile playing at her lips, "I say it's a fully common sense extraction method."
Justin wasn't going to argue too hard, he'd been expecting a blood draw or a cheek swab, and received something… Much different. "Are you sure you don't need a more conventional sample?" He asked, to make sure.
He didn't want to have to come back, he could only take Cho in small doses.
Cho puffed her cheeks out, "You gave me plenty to work with, not to worry, and at least you're less stressed now, right? You look dead on your feet." Her face took on a look of slight concern as she gave him a once over. "I could…." She started slowly, a glint of something else in her eyes.
Justin held his hands up, "No thank you, I'm perfectly fine." He looked towards the cradle that dominated Cho's lab, meandering towards it, hoping to derail any further 'Cho science' by asking, "And you're positive you can create Vibranium tissues and muscles?"
Cho nodded, an excited smile on her face as she walked over, stroking the top of her cradle with one hand fondly. "My baby can handle anything, it won't be a problem, the hard part will be incorporating your DNA in a way that doesn't weaken the structure or destabilize it."
"You're certain you need my DNA for it to work?" Justin asked again, slightly nervous to give Cho free access to it.
Cho shrugged, "Most of it." She said, her eyes wide and innocent, which he knew to be a dirty lie. "With Extremis, the Vibranium won't bind to you without your DNA within it, Extremis would handle it as an invasion or disease otherwise."
Justin nodded, feeling like he had to just trust that things would work out. The idea of adding Vibranium subdermal armor, or muscles and tissue to Extremis and the Super Soldier Serum had popped into his head when he'd basked at the cache of Vibranium they had from Klaue - so he'd immediately sought out Cho, remembering the cradle had built Vision in a future that would never happen.
It better never fucking happen.
"Well, I have that meeting with Doctor Hansen." Justin said awkwardly, Cho the one person he just wasn't sure how to behave around.
Except apparently for certain things, because he had no damn self control, he thought, annoyed at himself.
Cho immediately ran around the cradle and hugged Justin, her hands slipping down to grab at his ass as she pushed the limits of the hug.
"Okay, I'll talk to you later, Helen." He said quickly, extracting himself and leaving the lab at a fast clip, trying to make it seem like he wasn't running away.
In the lab, Helen Cho clapped her hands together eagerly, an unholy glint in her eyes.
"Yay!" She called out excitedly, staring intently at the sample she'd gotten.
She could do so much with this!
Having escaped Cho's lab, he soon found himself at the new cell holding the Winter Soldier, Maya Hansen standing outside it, waiting for him.
Justin peered through the reinforced glass, pleased to note that Bucky Barnes wasn't quite as robotic as last time he'd been by.
He was sitting comfortably in an armchair reading a well worn book, Lord of the Rings, if he wasn't mistaken. Instead of a barren cell, he had a writing desk, a bookshelf filled with literature, and a radio.
Quite a turn around, considering they hadn't completed the Extremis and Super Soldier Serum amalgamation yet.
Quite more than he'd expected, really.
"I disagreed with moving him to a more comfortable location, with less restrictions, but I stand corrected, Doctor Hansen." He acknowledged, sending her a fleeting and approving smile. Knowing the woman didn't care at all for the niceties, he didn't bother with effusive praise.
She was fully married to science at this point.
If only Cho could take some notes… He thought.
There were still many hurdles to cross of course in the conversion of the man, but the rapid progress seen already - was a good sign for his plans for the man.
Maya Hansen finished what she was doing, slipping the tablet into the crook of her elbow, stepping closer to the glass, "I can't take all the credit." She said matter of factly, pointing out several emitters in the ceiling, "With your hiring spree, we snapped up a young blowhard called Beck, who had some intriguing ideas that he lacked funding and technological know-how to implement."
Of course if there was anything Hammer industries had a lot of now, it was money and technological know-how, so they were a perfect fit then.
Justin glanced at the matte black emitters, they were simple looking small disks, implanted in the ceiling. Where have I heard the name Beck before…? He thought, before focusing on the now, "If you're telling me you've built a holodeck, I am afraid I'm severely underpaying you." He told Doctor Hansen dryly.
"Boys and Star Trek…" She muttered, shaking her head, her lips in a thin severe line, "This is not a so-called holodeck, Sir. It is a holographic illusion emitter."
Sounds like a holodeck to me… Justin thought, keeping it to himself, having a busy enough schedule without wasting time annoying one of his top scientists. "And this is how you've managed to come so far in the treatment?" He questioned, already thinking of the benefits of holographic tech for training his security division.
Doctor Hansen shook her head, "This is fairly new, as the Vanko's were too busy to assist, we've only been using it for several days at most." She frowned minutely, "It is coarse and unfinished and hardly lifelike as of yet, but the subject seems to respond well so far, so it is helping."
Justin raised an incredulous eyebrow, "You've gone from the Terminator to that?" He gestured to the solemn man sitting quietly and reading, no sign of a military posture. Although there were clear signs of tension in his face and the set of his shoulders."All of it in a few days, and you call it coarse and unfinished?"
Doctor Hansen gave him an exasperated look like he was particularly thick. Justin was not used to that, anymore. "Do you not read any of my reports, sir?" She asked sharply, "The therapy team we've spent a fortune on has slowly worked to get the subject at least comfortable, and got him to this stage - even if they've failed to ensure the subject is willing to cooperate with testing." She finished in a grumble, looking displeased.
Justin didn't exactly always have time to go through the minutiae of every email he received, but it was a lost cause to explain that to the good doctor, so he moved on, "Testing is no overly important yet, not without the solution anyway, we need the carrot, not the stick." He reminded her.
"Testing is always important." She stressed, looking annoyed, before she let out a huff, gesturing towards the cell, "As you've requested, he's available for a discussion, I trust you can handle the display, sir?" She asked somewhat tartly.
Justin gave her a dry look, "I do have an engineering degree."
She sniffed, "I never assume anything."
Justin shook his head, a wry smile appearing on his face, it was almost refreshing to speak with someone who really didn't give a damn what he'd achieved, as long as he kept the science funding coming.
Hansen made to leave, uninterested in the human angle of the experiment, Justin stopped her with a raised hand, one last question on his mind, "How is it going with Doctor Cho?" He queried hesitantly.
"Her expertise is doing wonders to the Super Soldier project, we'd probably be done already if she'd been here making herself useful from the start - instead of in a hole wasting her time." Doctor Hansen informed him archly, a small grimace on her face as she continued, "As for her mental state, you need to either unfuck her, or fuck her more, whichever method sets her straight again." She chided, definite disapproval in her voice. "She'd be twice the scientist if she didn't spend so much time mooning over you."
Justin sighed, and let her go, watching her walk off, already tapping away at her tablet again with a concentrated look on her face. He could only take so much of Doctor Hansen, despite the quaintness of her attitude.
As for Cho, if she was doing good work, he'd just leave it be as it was. His focus turned instead onto the Winter Soldier, as he stepped closer to the controls, turning the opaque glass clear, even as the speakers were turned on.
"Mister Barnes, I'm glad to see you in a better state, I'm Justin Hammer, the man responsible for your rescue." Justin said easily, a charming smile on his face, as Bucky stayed in his position, glancing his way from behind a curtain of hair - with a spark of intelligence visible despite the dullness of his eyes.
"What do you want?" Bucky asked quietly, placing his book down carefully, after placing a bookmark between the pages.
"To give you your life back, and to help save the world." Justin said simply.
There was no need to get overly complicated in this first meeting, it would just overload him. Being who he was, with his likely high level of suspicion to any offer he could make, it would just lead him in a circle of trying to find the trap behind Justin's words if he tried. So he wouldn't, not yet.
"Save the world, I've heard it before." Bucky said without interest, his expression flat.
Justin nodded slowly, "No doubt you have, and I wouldn't expect you to believe me quite yet, rest assured that even if you should refuse to assist at the end of your rehabilitation, I will let you go free with no strings attached."
Well… It's not going to come to that, Justin thought, studying the broken man in front of him. Therapy was slowly working, but the trigger words would still be there. Their method might not even work, in which case the man would never be free.
"Sure." Bucky said, not even bothering to show his disbelief, just blandly staring at Justin.
Justin sighed, pulling a chair forward, settling down for the long haul, gods this will be annoying… "The world is missing Steve Rogers…. The beating heart of America, it's patriotic soul. He would have wanted someone to pick up his mantle…"
Because fuck Steve Rogers…
Hours later, New York.
"What's next, Elena?" Justin asked, massaging his forehead wearily, fruitlessly fighting a migraine. "And remind me next time we're in New York to get a damn Helicopter, this traffic is ridiculous!"
They were in one of his armored limousines, cruising through rush hour New York traffic… Whatever he had next, they might arrive a day late at this rate.
After the whole Stark thing, he'd flown Elena back from Cairo, the workload was too large to handle without his personal assistant. Of course it would mean Sunil's workload would be larger, but quite frankly…
Justin could live with that.
"The meeting with New York's mayor over the plans for the new head office, and then your three pm with Wilson Fisk." Elena answered promptly, handing him several pills and a bottle of water, staring at him sternly until he took the medication.
Justin dry swallowed it, waving away the bottle of water, leaning his head back, the pills were useless anyway, something Elena should know, but he didn't waste his time arguing the point. He was still annoyed that Extremis apparently allowed headaches and migraines, but not the medication to relieve it.
"Cancel the meeting with the Mayor, he's our bitch at this point anyway, he doesn't need me there to hold his hand." Justin ordered quietly, feeling the shift in the leather seats as Elena moved away from him, to make the phone call without exacerbating his migraine.
Another unintended consequence of his success had led to the plans for Hammer industries headquarters to go ahead, years ahead of schedule. Hence the meetings and correspondence with the Mayor and city council, as well as the Governor and a myriad of other officials who had no business being involved but still were.
With outstretched hands awaiting a bribe.
So business as usual.
He couldn't wait for the invasion and buy land cheap in the aftermath as he'd planned before all of this set off. Quite frankly, he'd been more successful in his efforts than even his wildest dreams could have foreseen, and he needed his new headquarters yesterday. He couldn't wait four years, he needed to strike while the iron was hot.
And of course reinforce the fuck out of the building, because alien invasion…
He was keeping a close eye on Stark too, long distance cameras watching his Malibu Mansion like a hawk, his people in Afghanistan keeping an eye on Gulmira.
He was waiting for the reveal of Iron Man, because it would give him some openings. Tony had been arrogant in mouthing off to him about his superiority, Justin had a much stronger grasp on the media than the playboy could even imagine.
Once Tony stepped a foot out of line, Justin would bury him in bad press and busy work, chaining him to his board of directors, and slowing down his planned expansion.
He grimaced as his migraine intensified, all mental, his doctors had insisted. Justin blamed Stark for giving him more work, even if he himself was partly to blame for getting him out early.
He needed the damn man and his genius, but he was so damn annoying.
Granted, the migraine could also be from his recently upgraded implants. After weeks of working on it, the implants in his skull meant to stop mental intrusions and control, had finally been successfully upgraded by Ivan.
They no longer melted brains.
A definite upgrade.
With Extremis Justin had been able to handle that inconvenience, but now he didn't need to, the implant viable for anyone. That, of course, had led to everyone in his circle being given time for the procedure to get one, except Eileen who'd taken a leave of absence to deal with the Mystique situation.
The entirety of the management structure of Hammer Industries and his security division were on the waitlist to receive the same implants, upper management already halfway through the process.
Emma Frost and the like would not be able to fuck with him anymore. Also suck it Xavier!
Of course, Justin had taken it a step further, hooking his glasses into the implant, allowing him to send messages, craft emails and use the facial recognition software and everything else, with his mind - instead of having to train the software to react to certain eye movements.
Elena now had a similar pair of glasses on her face, albeit in a slimmer more attractive look, really setting off the hot secretary kink of his.
When she looked at him seriously with the glasses slightly down, just brrrr, Hammer like!
Thanks to the fact the glasses were so useful, the joke was spreading around Hammer industries that he was infecting people around him, as several of the highest levels of management were sporting glasses now - due to the convenience of being able to answer emails with their mind.
Stark blabbering about getting a set of glasses out for the public so soon, hah! Justin was already allocating factory space for the new product line, nowhere near as useful as his own, of course. But for the regular person, being able to use simple things like GPS, texts and emails through their glasses would be novel enough to sell, even if it took actually reading the manual to figure out how to use them properly and train the software to follow their specific eye movements.
Surely at least part of the general public would be intelligent enough to figure it out…
Stark was used to being the biggest dick on the block, Justin had fallen slightly into that during their meeting, knowing the man's skills - but once he'd calmed down, he'd realized the man really couldn't deliver what he'd promised. Not yet.
That didn't make the man any less annoying however.
Already a video was trending online of Stark answering a question about the H-phones while leaving a board meeting, because of course reporters would play into the whole rivalry thing.
"Hammer phones? I guess I can understand people buying inferior products when I wasn't available to show them the real stuff, Stark industries is going to release a whole new line of electronics GUARANTEED to make Hammer's look like toy phones making animal noises!"
Justin had been worried for a bit, until common sense and logic had set in. Stark was miles away from being able to actually deliver on such a promise. He had the capabilities to create something superior, but not the capacity or supply chain to just sweep the market like that.
All his factories were already producing other products, retooling and retraining wasn't the job of days, no matter how effective his AI was. It just wasn't possible to go from nothing to market in such a short time.
And if he switched off one of his current factories he'd risk being unable to deliver his already existing product lines to the military. So the man needed new factory space, new staff.
Good luck finding those easily, Justin was hiring so many people half of them didn't even have jobs, he just shuffled them off to Africa to help until he had an actual position for them. And that was still with his absolutely stringent background checks, or he'd have millions of new hires just spending time making roads in Africa while waiting for their real positions to be created.
At worst, Justin had a few months before he had to worry about Stark beginning to compete, and realistically, a year minimum. And he intended to ensure he was not in a worst case scenario. Stark and his genius was something he needed for the world, but it didn't mean Hammer would allow himself to lose to the man.
He already had plans in the work to limit the man's options.
While absolutely hammering Stark for overpromising, continuing the narrative of how untrustworthy he was through his media contacts. It helped that Tiberius Stone disliked Stark and was happily onboard for further tarnishing his reputation.
Elena sat back down next to him, her phone call done, she gently tugged on him, and Justin let himself fall into her lap with a tired sigh. She must have been very quiet in her call, he hadn't even noticed.
Or he was that distracted.
"Just rest, sir. I'll take care of everything until your meeting." She said soothingly, running a hand through his hair, long nails raking against his scalp, settling some of his stress.
Having been doing consistent 18 hour days for so long now, it didn't take long for Justin to fall asleep to the soft humming and singing of his personal assistant.
His last thoughts, why is she singing in Russian? It's beautiful…
Then sleep took him.
New York, Fisk international.
Slightly refreshed, Justin walked into Fisk international like he owned it, flanked by Domino and Elena.
They were immediately met by an odious little man, who showed them to a private elevator, meant to take them to the top floor of Fisk tower.
Thankfully, the weasel looking man didn't join them for the trip. Hammer got serious Grima Wormtongue vibes from the guy.
"What did I miss while I was dead to the world?" Justin asked, straightening out his cuffs, giving a quick polish to his cufflinks, knowing his people were smart enough not to reveal anything sensitive in someone else's building.
If Justin recorded sound and video in every one of his elevators, the damn Kingpin surely wasn't so lax as to follow privacy rules.
Elena sighed dramatically, "Tony Stark is in the news again, I'm afraid." With the way her lips were twitching he knew this would be good. Justin gestured for her to go on, already smirking in anticipation as the elevator climbed past the halfway point.
"He's been constantly locked in board meetings and the press keeps camping outside, waiting for a soundbite, and today, they managed to ask Stark about the arc reactor." Elena said, eyes glittering with malicious satisfaction.
Justin took in a deep breath, savoring it, "Please tell me he was his usual belligerent self?"
Domino chuckled, "If his previous statement went gold, this one went platinum, boss!"
Slightly wrong terminology, but good to know, Justin thought, rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation. "How bad was it?"
Elena smirked, looking inordinately pleased to be able to deliver good news, "He got annoyed at the consistent questions and said he could have cracked it anytime, reminding them of his genius, then dismissively said the world wasn't ready before."
Oh, Tony… This isn't the old world anymore…
The elevator reached the top, just as Justin closed his eyes and just savored it. Tony Stark was still the man that would cockily tell Congress to suck it, it seemed. He didn't realize he wasn't the media darling anymore - it had been a mistake of his inner circle to not keep him back.
Although he acknowledged how impossible that likely was. Pepper Potts was a miracle worker - but no one was that good.
This wasn't something that would hurt his bottom line, it wouldn't harm his business, not really, not yet. But it would set the narrative in stone, without Justin needing to do anything.
Tony Stark does not care about you.
Justin couln't out engineer Stark. But in logistics, media, planning and management, he was going to crush him.
He could already feel his migraine completely dissipating, the tiny niggling pain that still existed after his nap abating, his earlier stress about Stark's announcements lessened by his new gaffe.
Really, the man was going to make this easy for Justin, if he didn't wake up to the new reality and began acting like he needed to win people over. With Justin curing people from Alzheimer's and every deadly disease around, Stark couldn't afford to come off as the aloof genius unconcerned about the common man.
Mostly because Justin would continue to hammer him on it, just following up his continuing press campaign from before. His PR team's assertion that Tony Stark could have always done clean energy, but didn't care to help the average joe, or the poorer countries, fit better than ever now - it was something which definitely paid off with this one careless comment from Tony.
He stepped out of the elevator, into a perfect killbox, right before the Kingpin's penthouse office. His glasses immediately identified the twelve guards and their armaments, plus the hidden weapons emplacement behind the mahogany wood panels.
He eyed the security team, gesturing for Domino and Elena to join them, "Don't steal all their hearts now, girls." He quipped, strutting through the door that was quickly opened for him by a butler. Justin's glasses flashed, as facial recognition got a hit, as he glanced at the butler on his way through.
A serial killer as a butler. The Kingpin did have a sense of humor, it appeared. Although he doubted the butler was ever around for the more legal meetings, he was fairly well known in New York after all…
"Justin, welcome to the beating heart of my empire." The larger than life man said, clad in his usual white suit as he fixed himself a drink, "Drink?" He asked casually, holding the crystal decanter in one meaty hand.
Justin strode forward, a polite smile on his face, hiding his distaste. "Wilson, it's been too long, unfortunately I still have plenty of business to conduct afterwards, so no drink for me I'm afraid."
Wilson Fisk made an agreeing noise, grabbing his drink and making his way over to the large windows overlooking New York, gesturing for Justin to join him.
Justin held back a twitch at the temerity of this lowly criminal and stepped up to the window, hands behind his back as he coolly observed the New York skyline, already picturing his new headquarters rising far above this piddly little tower.
"A shame about Osborn beating you to the punch, I would have expected the military to be begging for you to be their supplier." Fisk murmured lowly, thoughtfully, taking a sip of his whiskey.
Justin met the dangerously intelligent eyes of the Kingpin of crime, quirking his lips, speaking up in an almost mocking drawl, "Norman can have his day in the sun, we both know he'll mess it up dramatically, the man's not well after all, and then I'll swoop in as the savior, again."
Fisk raised an eyebrow, face nonplussed, "Oh, not worried about the competition? I hear Frost industries are advancing power armor on their own too, France and Great Britain have already placed orders."
Justin hadn't heard that, which annoyed him, as he gave the Kingpin a searching look, what are you after with this conversation, Fisk? He wondered. The fact everyone was scrambling for inferior power armor annoyed him, because he didn't want a profiligation of the armors yet. At least he'd still hold the advantage, as only his armors could actually use actual arc reactors. Not that anyone but him and Stark could miniaturize the things so far anyway.
Of course Stark would be able to use them as well, but so far he hadn't debuted yet.
At least with the inferior works, they all depended on his batteries, so if any countries started misusing the armors against his interests… Well he'd quash that easily enough.
"Quality will win out in the end, there is no comparison to my armors." Justin said eventually, after a pregnant pause.
Fisk nodded, sloshing around the liquid in his glass, staring out at New York, "It is indeed." He muttered, "And if someone were to inquire what it would cost to get one of these armors for their most loyal subordinate?" He enquired softly.
Justin shrugged lightly, "I suppose it entirely depends on if I would find an endeavor like that worth it."
It was unlikely he'd end up following through on that, but if the Kingpin could offer enough of an incentive… One knockoff armor with low power wouldn't be much of a threat to him, and would allow the Kingpin to continue to project his power across New York.
At least until the city became Justin's city, once his headquarters was up, and the invasion defeated. In Justin's city, there would be no need for a Kingpin…
Fisk smiled, greed shining through briefly in his eyes, before he controlled himself, "Indeed, well, let's talk partnership then, you've come to me for a reason, Justin."
Justin nodded, pleased with the greed in the other man, his want for armors would make this deal much easier to push through, without him ever having to follow up on continuing the partnership later. "You expressed an interest in Extremis in Bern. I have decided what I want in exchange." He said with an easygoing smile.
Fisk gave him a measured look, likely recognizing he was in a limited bargaining position due to bringing up power armor before this discussion. "And what can Fisk industries do for you, Justin?" He asked mildly.
"Tony Stark will be massively ramping up his company profile, I want you to take no contracts with Stark industries or its subsidiaries for one year, stopping any you have going currently." Justin said, a feeling not far off from an orgasm running through his body at the flex of his own business and reputational power.
It was a heady feeling, controlling fates all over the country, sometimes the world, like this.
It was no wonder supervillains went a bit kooky at times.
Fisk mulled it over, eyeing Justin shrewdly, "You're asking for something that will cost me a fortune." He rumbled, despite knowing his bargaining position was weak.
Fisk international was a logistical company that although it did do work in shipping and international trade, it was mostly known for having a controlling interest in the transportation business in North America. If you saw a truck transporting something, odds where it belonged to Fisk, either directly or through one of his many logistics subsidiaries.
Justin had done the calculations, if Fisk refused to deal with Stark, SI's current business would see over a thirty percent drop in productivity until Stark found a way to replace the supply chain issues with other companies, companies that did not have the reach and support that Fisk industries had.
As for any expansion? Good luck with that.
No one knew quite how much Fisk really controlled as he hid behind several companies and subsidiaries through shell companies and tax havens, although Justin had come up with the number 70 percent give or take a few, by extrapolation and examining what he could find. The fact he controlled the teamster union as well, added to his complete dominance in the sector.
Not that most people knew that second fact.
This. This is why Stark would never beat him, because he didn't have the cojones to deal like this.
"One year of slightly lower income isn't going to break you, Fisk." Justin said dismissively, adding a slight carrot to make the deal go down easier, the man looked like he liked to eat after all… "My own company has the need for more trucks, so I'll happily pick up some of the contracts to keep you steady."
"It's still not enough, you're asking me to break contracts, it will impact my reputation, cost me millions in litigation." Fisk said coldly, appearing to be completely against the idea.
Justin knew better.
He scoffed, turning back to the view, speaking as if unconcerned for the reception of the words, "We both know your real reputation, Fisk, don't act like this is that much of an impediment, like you can't bribe or threaten judges to tie everything up or dismiss it outright…" Justin smirked slightly, glancing back at the Kingpin, "And we both know you can use your subsidiaries to take the brunt of the reputation loss, so no personal loss for yourself - your main company will be insulated from the consequences so don't try and play the player, we both know you'll agree to this."
Fisk seethed and didn't respond for a minute, the big man taking a steadying breath as his hands clenched. Justin knew no one talked to Fisk like this, no one that lived long anyway.
Justin luxuriated in the feeling of watching the Kingpin have to just take it, because he wanted what Justin had to give.
And because for once, the Kingpin wasn't the biggest shark in the room, and he knew it.
The big man finished his drink in one big gulp, turning to Justin, his body language calm once again, "You aren't entirely wrong, but you're still asking for me to put considerable expenses onto my companies, at the very least put the power armor on the table." He entreatied.
Justin laughed, cold and amused, like hell, take what I'm giving and swallow it you fatass… He stepped away from the window, "If regeneration and decades more of life isn't good enough for you, perhaps you'll find someone else to do business with you?" He said, moving to leave.
He got ten feet before Fisk growled under his breath, "Wait."
Justin turned, a questioning eyebrow raised, "Yes?"
Fisk stepped away from the window, "No power armor, we'll leave that open for the future, I am… Open to your idea, but need something more to sweeten the deal."
Justin scoffed, not open to giving away anything more to what was basically a simple monster, with some extra pocket change, "Is that so? I believe my offer is practically charity as it is, giving pseudo immortality for the price of less business for you for a year and a bit of tarnish on..." He searched for the words for a moment, a sardonic look on his face, "Your no doubt virgin-like reputation."
"This is not how business is done, Justin." Fisk said warningly, his bass tone almost echoing around the office, giving a perception of strength.
Justin had transcended normal business practices now. The likes of Shaw was a threat, so was Emma, so was Stark, and Osborn even in some small way, but Fisk? What was he going to do? Send Bullseye after him again?
That worked out so well the first time…
Like hell he would give anything extra for the man who'd tried to kill him, even if ineptly.
He would use the Kingpin, and then one day in the future, he would end him. Because he was well aware that if it weren't for the Kingpin wanting, needing, what Justin had on offer - he'd still be trying to kill him.
Fisk was small minded, too wedded to the idea of New York, too stuck in his mobster ways to truly thrive internationally like Justin was. Justin brushed some imaginary dust off his cuffs, making to step away again, "I hold all the cards, I decide how business is done, Wilson." He said, walking away.
As he'd thought…
He didn't get within five feet of the door before the Kingpin capitulated.
Extremis and the potential for power armor above and beyond what the military would have, was too strong of a lure.
Justin knew people.
Another avenue where he'd beat Tony Stark.
Where he'd already beaten him, in his humble opinion.
New York, later that evening,
"Hammer! Where's revenge, huh?" Ivan shouted the second Justin walked into the room. "My revenge!"
Considering the spread of vodka bottles, Ivan had been busy for a while. Justin grimaced as he stepped around the mess, somewhat glad to see that the elder Vanko wasn't present.
Trust Ivan Vanko to create a super Vodka to get around the fact Extremis made it impossible to get drunk…
With Extremis, drinking alcohol was entirely for flavor now, and well… Ivan was hardly chugging Vodka bottles on the regular because he liked the flavor, was he?
"Ivan… I believe I told you that revenge wouldn't be something as simple as death…" Justin admonished his top scientist.
Between Vanko and Cho… Why couldn't people be less complicated? Was it too much to ask for well adjusted worker bees?
Ivan blinked heavily, trying to pour vodka into his mouth, his mouth moving, as he poured the bottle two feet to the left of his mouth, the liquid hitting the floor, soaking into the mess of take out containers.
Jesus Christ, when they emailed me about the issue, I hadn't expected this…
"Stark is enemy, need to pay, you said." Vanko slurred, trying to point at him, but missing by a mile.
"He'll pay, he's already being humiliated in the media, and we're miles ahead of him, you'll still get that Nobel prize, you, the creator of arc technology, not Stark." Justin pointed out, not sure how much of a point there was to it, Vanko was obviously absolutely shitfaced, and likely wouldn't remember a word that was said.
Ivan scrambled over the mess, the accumulation of filth gathered only over the two days he'd stayed here, waiting for Justin to come to New York and meet him - he exclaimed happily as he found a large needle, with a glowing liquid inside. Before Justin could do more than open his mouth to protest, Ivan inserted it into a vein.
"You better not be on drugs, Ivan!" Justin blustered, not sure what to do.
Ivan groaned, settling down onto the bed, his eyes clearing up, "Is quick fix to much drinking." He muttered, holding his head in his hands, greasy hair hanging down like a curtain, his tattoos very visible against pale skin.
Justin pinched the bridge of his nose, "You invented super alcohol and immediate sobriety?" He questioned, before he had a thought, frowning at the now empty syringe. "Can you make it less glowy, and work for normal alcohol?" Seeing the potential for a new product.
But not while it glowed like radioactive waste… People might be slightly hesitant to inject that, even when shitfaced.
Ivan groaned again, "Still get hangover." He complained, and Justin let it be, there wasn't much point in instant sobriety if you couldn't skip the hangover.
Perhaps as a tool for soldiers or his security, in case they'd been drinking, as a way to get sober quickly. It was unlikely for it to be very useful as it was for the public market, yet.
He'd have to see if he could get Maya and Helen to look at it, Improve it.
But they wasn't why he was here, so he stepped closer to Ivan, stepping over a pizza box that had been haphazardly thrown onto the floor. "So, Ivan, I've been told you're displeased?" He asked softly, not wanting to make the hangover worse.
Ivan glared at him from under his curtain of hair, "Da, why Tony Stark not suffer more?" He demanded.
Justin frowned, "The man has shrapnel in his chest constantly moving to his heart, and an arc reactor shoved into his chest cavity to keep it from killing him, he must be in constant pain." He pointed out, hoping Ivan wasn't going to be problematic about this.
He still couldn't have Tony die on him, not even for Ivan. And he really didn't want to lose his golden goose.
Ivan tilted his head, mulling that over, "Good start." He decided, still looking angry, the mullish look not leaving him, "Not enough, da? He not realize yet, how him and his father, ruin lives."
"What do you want, Ivan? I'm not killing Tony Stark." Justin said firmly, arms crossed. "And frankly this behavior is beneath you, you're the man that pioneered Arc technology, power armor, and a dozen other inventions - not to mention your assistance on the cradle and Extremis… Tony Stark is an afterthought."
Ivan slowly grinned, grunting out his approval of his accomplishments being listed. "Those are good, da, but still not the crying of Stark's women, still not broken sad man paying for sins." He finished gutturally, a vicious sneer breaking out on his face, replacing the grin.
Justin reiterated his question, "What do you want, Ivan?"
Because he needed to solve this, his main man had been spending two days being utterly pathetic instead of doing his job. And his job literally revolutionized the world.
Justin couldn't afford to have Vanko switch off, the entirety of Earth depended on men like him.
Ivan looked up suddenly, his bloodshot eyes deadly serious, "Get me meeting with Stark. I tell him myself."
Fuck.
"... Alright, I'll see what I can do, but it might take a bit, buddy, okay? It's not exactly easy to meet the man right now, especially with any request from me." Justin said, giving himself some time to figure this out.
Damn his people for being actual people! Why did they have to have wants and needs that were so damn complicated. What was wrong with money?
It used to be that people just wanted a boatload of money.
His people though… They wanted complicated shit.
Ivan Vanko and Tony Stark in a room together…
That's only going to end well, he thought glumly.
A week later, Andrews Joint Air force base,
"See, I take you to nice restaurants, great little places with amazing food. And where do you take me when we both have the chance to hang out? An Air force hangar." Hope teased him, nudging him in the ribs as they walked into the hangar. "Are you absolutely sure you're supposed to be a player?" Her grin was warm, and she didn't seem to be actually upset, curious if anything, so Justin let the teasing flow over him.
"I'm sure you'll be suitably impressed in short order." He said with a mysterious smile, gesturing to the grouping of people that were standing further in.
Within which there was a very recognizable person, with a very recognizable security detail around him.
"Justin!" Hope hissed, looking flustered, "That's the President of the United States of America!"
Justin smiled proudly, walking forward with some swagger, patting Hope's hand as held onto her arm, "It's not a big deal, I asked him to be here and meet you is all." He said casually.
Hope put a hand to her hair, hissing out of the side of her mouth, her voice slightly squeaky, "Justin! I can't meet the President of the United States of America! I didn't wash my hair today!"
"Your hair smells amazing, and so do you." Justin assured her, feeling a little bit put out, the emphasis on the title, the slight panic, why did she never act like that for him?
It was just Ellis, no one important.
Hope's cheeks tinged pink, as she grasped his hand, nails digging into his skin, "Justin, you can't say something like that!" She almost wailed, "Not when I'm about to meet the President of the United States of America!"
Even as she continued to panic slightly, she sported a small pleased smile though.
"Stop saying it like that!" Justin chided her, wondering if his plan was about to backfire on him. She might be too shocked to listen properly.
"Ellis." Justin said with a slight nod, as they got close to the man, his secret service protection just a few feet away.
Hope immediately slapped his arm, turning to Ellis right after with a horrified look on her face, "I'm so sorry Mister President, he's not house trained yet." She rushed out,
Excuse me? Justin thought, deeply offended.
President Ellis smiled affably, shaking Hope's hand, "Not to worry, Miss Van Dyne, I'm well used to Justin by now." The way he said it, despite his smile, did not indicate that it was a pleasant connotation.
This is not going quite as planned… Justin thought, beginning to feel quite annoyed, sending Ellis a warning look.
"And there is Colonel Rhodes." The President said with a pleased smile, "Welcome to our little mysterious get together, Colonel." He said, rubbing his hands together.
Justin immediately grasped Hope's hand again, now that the President had let it go. Hope staring curiously at former Colonel Rhodes.
Rhodes walked up, escorted by a member of the secret service, looking wary at spotting Justin in the gathering, "It's an honor, Mister President." He said strongly, before grimacing minutely, "I am no longer in the military however, so I can't answer to Colonel."
It looked physically painful, Justin observed, for the man to not only admit that, but to be forced to correct the commander in chief.
"Well, that's part of what we are here to correct." Ellis said, switching to a more serious mien. "I have an offer, for both you, Colonel Rhodes, and you, Miss Van Dyne, in regards to serving your country."
Rhodes immediately straightened up even further, somehow, while Hope looked politely confused, but not quite willing to ask the President what he was smoking - to lump her in with an obvious career soldier.
Justin had set this entire thing up, using the President to lend gravitas to the occasion and to convince the two of them of his desires. Of course Ellis would get what he wanted through it as well, just not as much as Justin would…
"First of all, irregardless of what you may choose here today, your rank and career has been reinstated by request from a very important person to national interests." Ellis said dryly, everyone turning towards Justin, who waved at Rhodes, a coy grin on his face.
"I assume you accept as much? Obviously your previous position as the liaison to Stark industries is yours if you desire it as well." Ellis offered, hands behind his back as he regarded Rhodes.
Justin hadn't added that second part that was the President adding his own spin, but considering Justin had access to all the juicy intel as part of the World Security Council, he knew that Stark had already managed to run off two new liaisons - this week. So in the end, it was a sensible option.
Rhodes looked like he'd lost his voice for a moment, before he snapped a picture perfect salute, "Yes sir!" He said with conviction.
"Good… Boys, unveil Hammer's gift, please." Ellis said, waving to his security detail, who immediately moved to the side of the hangar, where something was hidden by a large hanging tarp.
The tarp was dropped, unveiling something that drew gasps from both Hope and Rhodes, and got the President's eyes glittering with glee.
"I give you the War Machine." Justin said grandly, stepping in and taking over. Not quite identical to what would have been, since Vanko engineered it, but the look was similar enough. "It will be on loan to the US Air Force under the stipulation that its pilot is Colonel James Rhodes, and some other small conditions…"
Rhodes was looking at him like he was crazy, "Define conditions," He said quickly, eyes roaming across the suit of armor, before his eyes widened as he obviously came to a realization. "Shit, Tony is going to kill me!" He moaned out, before he realized the company he was in and immediately apologized, "I'm sorry, Mister President."
Ellis scoffed, "Son, I've heard a lot worse than that before in the Senate, nothing to worry about."
"As for the conditions." Justin piped in again, practically skipping forward, "The President can explain that, it's where you come in as well, Hope, dear."
Ellis nodded, as Justin came up to stand next to him, "The United States of America, has hired Hammer industries to provide private security through a superhero team to protect us from threats like Wakanda super soldiers, Magneto or worse dangers, that can not easily be deterred by conventional forces."
"Like from a comic book?" Hope asked skeptically. "Superheroes, really?"
The men all wisely decided not to clarify things with the woman, because some things were just sacred.
"War Machine will be available to you on the condition that you're available for this team in case of global or national threats." Justin said, a shit eating grin on his face as he peered smugly at Rhodes. "You do owe me a favor, Rhodes…"
Of course he'd be used by the military for the most part, Justin could hardly trust him for most missions, but it was just delicious to 'steal' Tony's best friend for the real threats, which was why he had entreated Ellis to make the offer. Rhodes was a die hard patriot, he wouldn't, couldn't, say no to this.
Rhodes seemed to be thinking hard, looking conflicted, so they left him alone for the moment.
Justin and the President both turned towards Hope, both men rearing back slightly at the very cross look on her face, her arms crossed under her bust as she tapped a foot impatiently on the cement.
It seemed she'd realized something, and whatever it was she was none too pleased about it.
"And me? Is there a reason all this had been decided without even asking me if I wanted to be dragged into it?" Hope said coolly, her eyes flashing as she glared at Justin, "Apparently you know about… That! Have you been spying on me? And you didn't bother talking about it once!"
Justin started to feel like he might have made some slight miscalculations. "Ah, I wanted it to be a surprise…?" He said, stepping back slightly, using the President of the United States as a shield.
The secret service did not look impressed with him.
Hope snorted, shaking her head, before looking at Ellis, "I'm sorry, Mister President, I assume my misguided friend has deigned to share things about me?"
Ellis hesitated for a moment, before a practiced politician's smile slid into his face, "About you wielding the Wasp suit? He did inform me, quite recently in fact. He argued quite strenuously that you were perfect for this hero team."
Justin nodded quickly, "You're absolutely perfect, Hope!" He said, hoping to score back some brownie points.
Hope pointed at him, "You, shut it!" She hissed out, "I'm still mad at you!"
Ellis looked between them, seemingly amused at Justin's situation. "Should I take that as a no, Miss Van Dyne?" He queried.
Hope shook her head, her ponytail swishing through the air, "No, Mister President, but I'd like to know more about how this works before I sign on the dotted line so to speak."
Ellis looked at Justin, who didn't want to speak up and draw Hope's ire again, not when this whole plan was to manage to recruit her and Rhodes, mostly her.
Ellis chuckled, looking more amused by the second, "Of course I'll lay it out for you Miss Van Dyne, and you as well Colonel Rhodes." He gestured to the War Machine armor, "You'll be joining the team already consisting of Whiplash, Vulture and the Scorpion, with one more name pending, depending on evaluations." He glanced at Hammer, who silently shook his head, before continuing, "You'll be officially sanctioned by the United States government to act within our borders as you see fit on matters of national or global security, and we'll quickly achieve the same with NATO I'm sure, making it legal for you to intervene there as well." He paused, looking worn all of a sudden, "With the state of the UN and everything going on across the world, I do not know how many other counties would be willing to allow your team through its borders, so we'll have to see about that."
"Is that… Legal, Mister President?" Hope wanted to know.
Ellis smirked briefly, "I'll make it legal." He promised, before chuckling, "I'm sorry I had to, but not to worry, Miss Van Dyne, all the legalities have been taken care of, at least for our country."
"What's the name of the team?" Colonel Rhodes asked warily, which still indicated his tacit acceptance.
President Ellis looked slightly pained, "As it is a private team hired by the United States government, naming rights belonged to the man running and paying for the upkeep of the team…"
Hope and Rhodes both stared hard at Justin.
"The team name is Hammer, isn't it?/The team name is Hammer, isn't it?" They both said at the same time, both sounding absolutely done.
Justin smiled excitedly, "You're saying it wrong, it's H.A.M.M.E.R." He corrected them, thrilled that his ploy worked in getting Hope onboard, she was playing hard to get, but he could tell she would sign up.
Before he got Ellis involved, he'd doubted his chances, precisely why he got him involved - it was hard to say no to the President asking you to do a solid for the country after all.
Some people were silly like that, thinking that a man deserved loyalty just because he managed to hoodwink more mouth breathers into voting for him.
Hope looked at him through narrowed eyes, "Any chance you had of getting this!" She gestured to herself, "Just died an agonizing death." She promised severely.
Justin grimaced.
She'll grow to like the name, he thought optimistically.
A day later, White house, Washington D.C.
"Your benefactors speak highly of you, but I'm unsure what exactly it is you're hoping to achieve here." President Ellis told his guest, in the oval office.
Frankly, it was nice to deal with people without being almost summoned, like it was with Justin Hammer.
He needed the man's money to get re-elected, or at least needed it, because if he pissed him off and got him to back the other side, he'd lose.
After the side show at Andrews, it was nice to get to feel properly Presidential again, with his guest showing all proper levels of respect.
The man having had several Senators of both parties vouch for him to boot, not something Ellis saw often anymore in the increasingly partisan world of politics.
He was practically a lock for one of the Congress seats as well, an oddity for an independent in a race to replace hundreds of Congressmen.
Bolivar Trask smiled grimly, "Only the salvation of mankind, Mister President."
Malibu, California
Tony threw the remote down in disgust, having turned off the TV beforehand, to save himself from the absolute lunacy that was the press.
Obie, sitting across from him and smoking a cigar, shook his head slowly, taking the cigar out of his mouth, pointing it at Tony, "I warned you, Tony. It's a brave new world, the kind of shit you could get away with before, just doesn't work any longer." He gestured to the turned off TV, "You can't say whatever you want anymore and expect it will wash off due to your genius, there's another one on the board and he's more popular than you."
Tony gave him an annoyed look, "So you've said, repeatedly." He drawled sarcastically before he frowned, his mind drawn to the reporter, feeling annoyed at the man for asking him in the first place, and at himself, for his flippant devil may care answer.
In his defense, the public used to love that exact attitude.
Hell, his PR team used to play it up, because it sold. The devil may care playboy with a genius no one could match - people loved that shit.
It had been over a week and the media was still playing it over and over again, different talking heads ripping him for being elitist.
Since when was that a bad thing? He wondered.
Pepper piped in, face severe as she crunched numbers, having followed the damage on every network, "With Hammer providing clean energy and Panacea, sometimes at cost even, his reputation is through the roof, and people are comparing the two of you… It's not coming off well so far." She said with a wince, drawing a dark look from Tony.
Stop bringing up Hammer… He was ten times the man that phony ever was, even if he begrudgingly admitted the man at least knew how to hire good people and take advantage of them.
He'd been fighting with the board for over a week now, pushing his improvements, struggling to get them all through. Clean energy was one where he'd failed time and time again, even Obie had refused, claiming the timing wasn't there yet.
He didn't care, Arc reactor tech was his, even if he hadn't commercialized it, because he hadn't figured out how to make it useful yet before his vacation time in the desert. But he'd begrudgingly had to acknowledge it was too hard a battle to wage right now.
Hammer had advantages that were just hard to beat at the moment to enter the energy sector. He'd hoovered up all the talent for one, Tony not able to compete when his comprehensive health plan - the best in America - was suddenly worth less than jackshit compared to free Panacea for Hammer industries employees.
Not to mention the absolute bullshit political support Hammer had across the world - how the hell he'd managed Tony couldn't understand. Probably illegal shit… He thought darkly.
Tony wasn't a damn criminal, but he'd admit crime definitely seemed to pay off in this case. And Justin Hammer was definitely slimy enough to be doing some backroom deals…
He could build arc reactors no problem, Jarvis had already analyzed Justinium (ugh!) and he could easily synthesize the same. But he had neither the personnel to run it, nor the money to undercut Hammer, who in Africa was literally losing money selling contracts to build arc reactors as a charity case to the poorer countries.
He didn't have the infrastructure either, to begin synthesizing the new element to the level Hammer was. Let alone the problems that came from the douche no doubt patenting it, artificial products not found in nature could be held solely to the patent owner even down to the manufacturing process after all. So Tony had been forced to agree with his godfather. Pick a battle you can win, space, consumer electronics, robotics.
If he spent all his time on clean energy, he'd just fall further behind everywhere else, he'd have to make do with arc reactors for his own factories… And ugh, use Justinium under royalties or something, he'd put the lawyers on it.
With Hammer's health plan and good (Insane)PR, Tony couldn't even hire enough people trained to do the jobs he needed done. Everyone wanted into Hammer industries, they'd lost fifteen percent (!) of their own workforce for just that, while Tony was gone. Which in a way was a good kick in the pants, as he'd been forced to come up with a solution for the future and studied plans with Jarvis to invest heavily into robotics.
If he couldn't have the staff, he'd build his own staff, with the benefit of not having to pay them or worry about healthcare, and he'd let Jarvis run his factories down to the last man - ensuring quality control.
He was beginning to play around with a second AI, he might need it if he was going full in on robotics.
Sadly, that all was likely at least a year or two away before it was reality for even a few factories, let alone all of them.
Plus… It wouldn't be a great PR look either, he knew. Having to think about those kinds of things now.
He had severely underestimated how much Obie had been doing over the years to make things work after he'd come up with a brilliant idea - never having involved himself much in the process involved after creating something.
"The world's changed too much in two months…" He didn't whine, just complained, like a man. He didn't usually have to worry about the logistics, it took care of itself.
Except now he'd been hit in the face with the fact that Obie was the one who usually took care of it, and even he had limits.
Like scrounging up factories, offices and staff, for an expansion in several sectors all at once. While trying to get out of selling weapons.
The board was throwing a hissy of epic proportions, hence why Tony had been forced to actually go to board meetings. Everyday. This new world was lame and annoying.
His suit was taking longer than expected due to all the interruptions and meetings he was forced to attend. If he could replace his board with robots as well it would certainly make for a smoother process…
"We need to get a better PR team." He acknowledged distastefully, pretending he didn't see the knowing look between Obie and Pepper. He wasn't a complete manchild.
"We have a PR team, I believe their last email to you mentioned 'Don't speak to the press without it being a pre-scheduled interview', sound familiar?" Pepper asked, doing air quotes as she brought up the issue, voice dry.
Tony looked at her, pursing his lips, "Isn't it your job to handle my email?" He said, making a disapproving sound, "Way to fall down on the job, Pep!"
"It is my job, just like it was my job when I told you that exact sentence over a week ago, before your board meeting, reminding you." She replied, managing to sound ever drier than previously.
Obie coughed, drawing their attention, as he put his cigar out in the crystal ashtray on the table. "Tony, I've hired you a PR coach, they're going to be with you for a month, don't go anywhere in public without your coach, we can't handle more bad press, not with how good Hammer looks comparatively."
Tony really was getting tired of the H word, so he immediately pivoted to something else, "Is she hot? I bet she's hot, you got to be, to work in PR." He spoke out of the side of his mouth at Pepper, who grimaced.
Obie answered instead, looking serious, "What kind of fool do you take me for Tony? It's not a woman for God's sake, not with your impulse control - please control yourself for five minutes, we can't keep taking beatings, there's only so many times we can take a count before the bell rings."
Tony thought that was a little bit unfair. He'd already provided a dozen defensive upgrades that would sell with the military, plus a new phone, watch and tablet configuration to enter the consumer electronics market with style, it wasn't like he was being lazy.
Hell, he wasn't even sleeping, so they couldn't say he wasn't working!
Although he'd had to start taking naps lately, due to allowing Yinsen into the workshop to help with the suit - and the man was annoyingly pedantic about stupid things like eating, showering and sleeping.
Tony was going to get PTSD on his PTSD because of his disapproving stares.
The man had saved his life, so he felt he owed him a lot of leeway, but now he was ridiculously acting like his damn nanny or something. And of course that traitor Jarvis was completely supporting him in his quest.
Tony had never needed sleep before, he didn't need it now, didn't have time for it.
He had hundreds of inventions to bring into the light, to show Hammer what was what. Let him have his slices of the pie, but Tony would go down in history as the real innovator. And he could do it totally guilt free, since Hammer had started it all and completely thrown the world into insanity, it wasn't Tony's fault now if a tech race caused further instability, he didn't start it.
"Tony…" Obie said, drawing his attention again, as he'd drifted off, studying Pepper, who was tucking her hair behind her ears self consciously, in a way that looked just perfect.
"What?" He asked, defensively.
"You don't do the business side, you're the ideas guy, I get it. Why don't you leave it all with me, huh? You sit in the lab and knock out more about this robotics thing, and some knick knacks - " Tony was immediately offended, knick knacks! As if! It's all the best new thing! "- And I'll deal with all the business and PR side of things, okay?"
Tony sighed, the many hours of no sleep pressing in on him, he eyed the worried looking Pepper idly, wondering what he was even doing wasting time, when Obie was making perfect sense.
"Sure, Obie, you handle all the business stuff, I'll wow you with what I can whip up!" He said, an easy grin on his face that hid the stress and nightmares crawling under his skin.
He'd get over it soon enough, he was fine now. Fine.
Obie can handle it,
He's right, I'm more of the ideas guy anyway… He thought, mind already turning to the necessary fixes needed to implement a fully robotic production line for all of his factories.
Before he could completely disappear into his mind, his eyes caught on to Obie's phone as he checked on something, cheek twitching in annoyance.
"Wait… What phone is that, my trusted and respected godfather who would never betray me?" He drawled out.
Obie choked on his spit, almost fumbling the phone. "What!?" He exclaimed, staring wide eyed at Tony.
"Your phone, what is it?" He asked again with narrowed eyes.
Obie looked relieved for some reason, as he slipped the phone into his pocket, not answering Tony. "Well, I got to go smooth things with the board, Tony. Listen to your PR coach, alright, they'll be good for you."
"Obie! The phone, a competitor!"
"It's not really until we've put one out, Tony, and it's the best one on the market right now, it's security is top notch…"
"Traitor."
Author's note:
Tony Stark can't just jump into the pool and match what Justin Hammer spent two years preparing for. Logistics doesn't work that way. He needs factory space, trained people, money, support from the board, PR, a thousand little things that don't happen in a week.
The other difference is simple. Tony Stark doesn't play the game as ruthlessly.
The hearing in Iron Man 2 would never happen to Justin, because he'd either A, ensure it could never happen in the first place, or B, bribe/ruin/kill anyone that he needed to bury it first so it still doesn't happen.
Justin in a single meeting, while offering something very desirable, sure, still managed to hamstring Tony from one conversation with Fisk. (Surely that arrogance won't backfire either, right?)
Because he is willing to play that game, and Tony doesn't even think in that way.
Now Stane on the other hand…
Now before people begin to freak out, no this doesn't mean Tony Stark sucks now, it means he needs time.
Of course, in certain things like space, Tony isn't far behind… Repulsor tech actually puts him ahead of the ball game.
Cheers
patreon.com/JollyHippopotamus
If Bolivar Trask appears as Peter Dinklage, then he comes up short about that figuratively and literally in a world SI Justin Hammer made.
- Location
- England
Cho is married to science, but she cheats on the side.
Henry Ford did something similar - monopolized most of the relevant labour market by offering better pay and conditions. In another similarity to Justin Hammer he was also a right bastard.
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He's going to make the best sentinel/mastermold/Nemrod/Bastion/Skynet he can make because mutants are evil and a machine take over isn't as bad.
Edit: Cho went from entertaining to creepy, don't know if thats the point or if her being creepy is supposed to lead to her going full supervillain because of hammer somehow.
Edit: Cho went from entertaining to creepy, don't know if thats the point or if her being creepy is supposed to lead to her going full supervillain because of hammer somehow.
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Pls tell me justin isn't going to make himself even more vulnerable to magneto with the vibranium treatment or did i misunderstand that part and its not as bad as i think?
This totally won't backfire on Trask's face at all and karma is gonna bite him real hard.
I'm wondering if sinister exists, he could be recruitment. Without Apocalypse breathing down his neck all he wants to do is experiment on mutants. Which Hammer is already doing in Egypt. I think he made Genosha a paradise for thay very reason.
Bad idea because Mr. Sinister is a wild card who do something sinister behind your back, and his horrific experiments on mutants disgust both Charles and Magneto. There is a reason why they have their respective apprehension upon learning about mutants being experimented on to see if Extremis can be compatible with their DNA from Hammer Industries.
Chapter 18: Wakanda Forever, Nevermore.
Here's chapter 18: Wakanda Forever, Nevermore.
For those interested in voting for which story gets priority or early access, I have a Patreon
Warning for some slight heavy stuff in this chapter. People die, and other people mourn, and shit goes down.
Also warning: Politics here aren't real, purely made up for the story, don't read into it. It's made up. I'm not American. I have no horse in that race, so no one go too crazy now.
Even Justin has a heart it seems, or at least a conscience.
And he still excels in making enemies for himself. Which will surely not bite him in the ass down the road.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
May 4th, New York, the Hilton.
"I can't believe they scheduled congressional elections on May the fourth." Justin muttered, watching on the news as the first predicted ending polls were being discussed.
As he didn't have a proper headquarters in New York, he was once again forced to settle for the top penthouse suite at one of New York's hotels.
His business was thrumming along at full speed and with great effect, Sunil's work in Cairo combined with the influx of working people - was greatly speeding up the more simple projects like building up the road network across the continent.
He'd already begun with efforts to reclaim the desert. For once, it was not Vanko's designs that assisted with the process.
He'd taken some of what he'd seen of Vanko's work, and applied it to large vehicles, like trucks and excavation vehicles, making them into drones, using arc reactors instead of engines to give that extra oomph, with tracks instead of wheels - also saving an absolute fortune in gas expenses.
They were removing a ridiculous amount of sand, and since sand was used in the process to make silica, further moving it onto silica wafers used for microchips, he was even making this process into a business.
Everyone needed microchips after all.
Of course, there was a reason people didn't use Saharan sand and its resources for silica wafers. In a word - it was too dirty.
Compared to the sand from beaches there were more contaminants like iron amongst the particles, that made them unsuitable for both fine and industrial glass, and for silica wafers.
It was also eroded by wind instead of water which created other issues, like making the grains of sands too smooth. It also lacked the necessary quartz component ideal for silicon for similar reasons.
Justin simply went the extra expensive step of creating factories that processed the sand, before distributing the sifted and treated particles to factories around it, who'd make industrial strength glass from it.
He had other factories concerned with making wafers for microchips, mixing in some of the ingredients necessary for the process with the sand, and crafting the sand necessary for the silicon conversion. All mostly automated, even if so far only a third of the facilities were even built, the sand extraction moving at snail pace until the factories were built up properly.
Prohibitively expensive to do in the African desert or anywhere else really, unless the entire sand gathering workforce was basically arc powered drones, meaning no gas costs, no human cost - except for the staff overlooking the process and the maintenance and cleaning staff ensuring the trucks kept running after a day in the desert.
Same with the automation in the factories, overlooked by a computer and maintenance team, severely limiting costs after the initial outlay. No one else could realistically afford to do this in conventional manners, but he could and had the means, so it was getting done, slowly.
So he was cleaning out the desert one truck at a time, making room for an eventual takeover process of the cleared areas via forestation or habitation, while also making a bundle on turning that sand into money via glass and silica wafers.
The press was absolutely loving him for his 'environmental' work.
But then they always loved him now.
Something he'd used to tie a lot of potential Congress members to his interests. Normally, he'd be all for ushering in more of the old guard, as they were easily bought. The problem of course was that they were easily bought.
He had no use for men and women who'd take his 'gift' and turn around and vote against his interests a few months later after finding some nice gifts from someone else.
Whores should stay bought.
So he had both openly, and more covertly, been pushing for some young guns to enter the race. Harder to control, but bustling with the wish for change - and nothing spoke of change at the moment like Justin Hammer and Hammer industries. All of which neatly ensured they'd protect his interests from whatever remains of the old traditional members that managed to get in.
There would always be some, the south wouldn't vote for anything else. They were predictable to the extreme, hence why no politician bothered to ever say anything new down there, just shouting about immigrants over and over again.
There was a reason Justin preferred to stay away from there. He couldn't stand willful ignorance.
Domino chortled, juggling some citrus fruits in apparent boredom, "Must make you feel good with so many of your 'young' political proteges signing off with - may the force be with you - before going to the polls." She teased.
She had been laughing at him all morning, because everytime he heard that idiocy, he twitched.
Justin twitched irritably, again. "It was moronic, they need to appeal to the older crowd, not enough younger people vote, they already have that locked in just by age and good looks." He grumbled, annoyed as always when catching people at incompetence. At least when it was people nominally on his side, catching enemies at incompetence was, as always, delicious.
"A republican supermajority in Congress is going to make things… Interesting." Sunil spoke up dryly over conference call, the time difference made no difference, he was always on duty.
Justin had a few prospects now for people to fix his AI deficiency, and Sunil was hunting them down, he should get the man another dozen assistants or something.
"Blame the fears from Wakandan stupidity on that." Justin said, not necessarily opposed in theory, Warhawks were good for business after all. Especially the weapons business.
The problem lay in the fact that sometimes they literally picked their hill to die on - and would refuse to be moved no matter if the apocalypse was forthcoming, which didn't make them reliable.
Not fully.
Again - see the south.
A younger Congress would hopefully somewhat alleviate that, allowing Justin to sway them his way without being obvious about it. Republicans loved the war industry and big business… To a certain extent.
Justin would have to keep it that way. Or Ellis would be using a lot of vetoes.
If only Tony Stark could start making some sense, then this last month or two would have been almost perfect.
He had been out of his cave for two months now, a month earlier than he was supposed to be, sure, but still, he had the time to get going already.
So why was the asshole not flying around in his suit yet!?
Stark industries was busy trying to expand, while dealing with the logistics problem he'd created. Neither of which should take Tony away from his suit this long - isn't that what he had Jarvis, Stane and Pepper for?
Why hadn't he gone to Gulmira? It was still a terrorist plagued hellhole! Didn't Yinsen care? Why weren't they doing anything?
It was frustrating the hell out of Justin.
They were only a few months away from Thor and Iron Man 2, and Tony still wasn't Iron Man, not that there even was a Stark Expo this time around. Stark industries for some reason didn't think they'd be very impressive with recent events, or so he assumed.
No more thinking on Tony, or I'll never get anything done. He decided, turning back to the present.
"What's the progress in Cairo like, Sunil?" He asked, idly watching as the news continued to predict a landslide Republican victory due to Democrats being perceived as weak on the military and war efforts.
Mostly helped along by some serious gaffes by various black liberals trying to lessen the hate on for Wakanda - political suicide to anyone with a brain - yet they'd still stood to their principles.
It would cost them now, for the first time in Justin's memory, people weren't voting exclusively in their normal locked down affiliations, like their dad before them and grandfather before that, etc.
Sunil sounded almost cheerful, as he responded, "Going splendidly, sir. Miss Munroe is a delight to work with, her efficiency and charisma is moving UNESCO into the hearts and minds of everyone here, and by far, the Metahuman approval rating is ticking higher by the minute."
Hearts and minds and probably cocks, Justin thought amused, Storm wasn't hard to look at, and a whole generation of Africans were likely in love. "Keep giving her a long leash, I don't really care what she and her team is doing as long as it's good PR." He ordered, he hardly needed to micromanage Storm, she believed this was mutants one chance to come out as something benevolent, she wouldn't risk fucking with Hammer industries at this point in time.
Neither was she the type, most of Xavier's people too good for their own good - and not at all likely to backstab an ally.
As far as UNESCO went, it was all his down to the core now. Unsurprisingly, the funding and effort to rebuild UN operations and staff was almost non-existent, as every major power focused on the Vibranium gold rush.
At this point, Justin doubted the United Nations would even return to its former state at all.
"And the state of our operations in Africa?" He queried next, keeping his mind busy and getting a feel for how things were progressing.
"Red tape is practically non-existent as the leaders of each respective country are doing everything in their power to accommodate us at the moment." Sunil said confidently, "Our operations are only slowed down by the lack of infrastructure in some of the countries we are operating in, as soon as we get them up to snuff, projections have us two months ahead of schedule."
Justin chuckled, pleased with the news. "For all the miracles we've created, from clean energy to Panacea, large infrastructure projects finishing ahead of time, might be the biggest of them all."
Elena walked in just then, a frown on her pretty face, "Sir, your request for Phantazia to return was denied." She reported.
Justin turned his head slowly towards her, "Excuse me?" He said, not sure if he heard that correctly.
"She sent back a short reply stating that she was going to finish out her entire leave of absence, we also received a message from Magneto." Elena said, Domino sitting up straighter, a frown on her face now as well.
Phantazia was a workaholic, either the Mystique issue was more complex than they had ever imagined - or something weird was going on.
Justin was willing to bet on weird. It was always weird.
Justin rubbed his brow, always has to be something, he lamented. "Well what is his message?"
Elena pursed her lips, anger flashing in her eyes, "Denied." She said, "That is it."
"Of course, very informative." Justin muttered, wondering if it was even worth pursuing right now. He had so many irons in the fire as it was, if Phantazia was in trouble, could he even get her out?
Can't expect them to be loyal if I am not… He thought with disquiet, she's been steadfast for over two years… He glanced at Domino who looked unusually non-cheerful for her. There's also the problem of losing others loyalty as well if I hesitate.
"Elena, Sunil, start pouring over all the information we have on the Brotherhood and their whereabouts, I'll talk to Xavier…" He made a noise of disgust, "And ask him for a favor." Justin said, annoyed at the interruption to a simple day watching America's future change almost irrevocably.
"Sunil, start equipping our security with the plastic weaponry… Just in case, and someone notify Vanko."
The man had some anti-Magneto ideas he'd been tinkering with. Perhaps it was time to start deploying them.
Just then, his glasses beeped, signifying the one and only secret communication avenue he had that would loudly announce itself like that so he'd not miss it - one that was important and very late, and he groaned, "When it rains it pours. I need to get to my jet, it's the closest safe spot for contacting the World Security Council."
Because the message he got was from Killmonger, his little snake in the grass was finally ready to destroy Wakandas main shield generator.
He felt like slapping himself in the face. God, now I even sound like I'm in a Star Wars movie. Blowing up shield generators, ugh…
"Now people, now!" He snapped out, Elena jumping slightly as she got to work.
Ugh, Killmonger finally… Took you long enough…
He glared at Domino who leaned back onto the couch, a leg over her knee, "Don't you have work to do?" He sniped.
She smirked mischievously, "I do, my job is watching your cute little butt, so I guess I'm doing great, watching you right now, in fact." She said irreverently, gesturing to her own eyes with two fingers and then to him, smirking the entire time.
Justin definitely needed Phantazia back, his people were getting way too cheeky with him.
Three hours later, Hammer Industries private jet.
Justin hated waiting. On anything. He was fine with others waiting on him, as was only proper, but waiting on the other Security Council members was literally torturous.
They were the ones who had hassled him for weeks, wanting updates on Killmonger's process, updates he didn't have, because he was deep undercover and reporting in daily or weekly was retarded.
Something the oversight council of an intelligence agency should have known.
And now he had the update they'd been waiting for… And they were making him wait!
Finally, minutes later, the last member's hologram appears, Gideon Malick, the prick.
"Does this mean you finally have something useful, Hammer?" He immediately asked, not even bothering with the niceties.
Justin raised a mocking eyebrow, "As opposed to the eminently useful information you've given, Malick?" None, in case that wasn't obvious you odious toad!
He'd already known Malick's name from Pierce, but the rest had finally broken down and shared identities in some futile effort of getting some team cohesiveness between council members.
Or because they noticed his people had been sniffing around and figured they'd get it out of the way.
He knew which theory he subscribed to.
Alexander Pierce, attending the meeting for the first time in weeks, raised his hands in a calming motion, "Now, let's not get away from the matter at hand, you've called this meeting, Justin, do you have anything to share?"
Don't call me Justin… He wanted to say, but HYDRA was still a somewhat useful friend, even if they didn't know he knew as much as he did. They were obviously angling to recruit him though, which hell no!
"My operative has the ability to end the shield, today. He's only waiting for my order." Justin said smugly, a touch of arrogance to his posture.
These other jokers held some minor power, but they'd failed in as much as scratching Wakanda, so as usual it came down to Justin's superior planning.
"That's very useful information, can we afford to wait?" The - totally not a Mandarin spy - Asian councilor asked softly. "He could be discovered any day, and we'd lose our only reliable way to end this farce of a war."
"Setting things off too early has its disadvantages too," The British councilor interjected, "The major nations have still not come to an agreement on the distribution of Vibranium, if the shield falls…"
"It will be a free for all, an utter mess that risks setting off world war three. Again." The Indian councilor said, with clear disgust in his voice, "Can we risk it?"
"Esteemed councilors, do you believe there's any chance of an agreement between the major nations in the near future?" Pierce asked politely, his gaze almost jovial.
Justin scoffed loudly, drawing attention, "We speak of that like the people in this room does not influence those decisions."
"It's not as simple as that." Malick said, voice dripping with distaste, "No one in this room controls what Russia or China might do…"
A funny thing to say with the Asian hemisphere's councilor right there, but in essence the truth, he's not the one with control…
Justin smiled sardonically, "We might not control them, but we know exactly how they'll act, and it won't make a difference if it's now or six months from now." He gave them a piercing gaze, "Except now, we have the means, who knows about the future…"
"Your man can deliver?" The Indian councilor asked quietly.
"Of course."
What a pointless question, why else would Justin even have called this meeting for?
"If we're moving immediately, I'll contact NATO to put all the pieces in place." The British councilor said, with a deep sigh following her statement.
Gideon Malick looked displeased, as he acknowledged the apparent will of the council, "I'll speak to Ross, if anyone can get the US forces hopping, it's him." From the immediate grimace that appeared on his face, Ross had worked his usual charms it seemed…
Pierce smiled grimly, "SHIELD is already on the ground and will of course be notified to stand ready."
Ready to loot, no doubt, Justin thought, finding it amusing that there was literally no difference between HYDRA and SHIELD in this matter.
"What kind of timeframe will we have?" The Asian councilor asked Justin bluntly.
Justin hesitated momentarily, wondering if he should push for more time, or just get this over with. Eventually his busy schedule convinced him the sooner the better. "The armies are all already there right? So tonight, let's not risk my operative or his sabotage being discovered."
"Armies don't move that quickly." One of the so far silent councilors broke in with.
"They'll have to today, gentlemen and lady." Pierce said firmly, "We all better get working." He glanced at Justin, "Give us a few hours, then we'll work on what time we'll set it all off, we want to have our asses covered on this one."
Needless to say, the whole world would be watching, Wakanda's defeat was one of the most significant world encompassing issues since World War Two.
Justin logged off, feeling that it had been all too easy, not something he was used to with the council.
It discomforted him. Usually it was like pulling teeth, so the fact they all so easily folded…
Was he making the right choice in moving immediately?
Wakanda, Royal Palace, Living quarters,
T'Challa sighed despondently as he made his way through the corridors, heading towards his parents' living area.
Normally the Royal Palace brought him a sense of pride and contentment, but now all he felt was dread as he traversed the halls. It felt too much like the beginnings of a catacomb to him, his surroundings more and more equating to a prison or graveyard than a loved home.
The finery, the weaves of the tribes of his people, the artifacts and art adorning the walls, the Vibranium in the walls practically thrumming with recognition of its chosen people - it all felt limp, fake, today.
The Americans were in the middle of replacing those their warriors had killed in their government - and all of them were running on what measure of Wakandan blood they'd promised the public. He could see no way forward, his project barely enough to save those closest to him.
Even his last pathetic gasp of hope was more of a failure than anything. It was admitting loss, admitting that he could do nothing for Wakanda, for its people. Those who'd all suffer while he and his made their escape.
He felt more and more like a coward, as he'd been called plenty as of late. What else could you call a prince who was abandoning his people, his heritage, saving only the few? His sister, his parents, Nakia….
Yet, he could not foresee another path, and he refused to let Shuri suffer for their mistakes.
His steps slowed down as he realized he'd not yet run into a single guard.
This far into the living quarters the Dora Milaje should have been plentiful.
Breaking out into a sprint, he rushed towards his parents living quarters, his heart beating wildly as he suddenly ran past an eviscerated guard, tossed aside like garbage, the pathway bloody and filled with the stench of the recently deceased.
No, no, NO! He screamed internally as he ran past two more fatalities, both women heavily burned and unrecognizable.
He broke through his Father's door, splintering wood across the room, as he skidded to a stop, his heart breaking at the sight before him. "No! FATHER, MOTHER, WHY!?" He cried out in anguish, tears running down his face as he charged at Killmonger, who was holding his dead father up, a burning hand inserted in his chest, his mother lying dead on the floor, a handprint burned into her face.
The smell of burning flesh suffused the room.
Killmonger cocked his head to the side, a teasing tilt to his lips, "Hey, cuz, you missed the party." He said flippantly, tossing the former king of Wakanda at T'Challa in a sudden show of strength.
T'Challa interrupted his rush, catching his father's body, sliding to a stop as he laid it down gently on the ground. His eyes were burning with hate, even as tears continued to run down his cheeks. "They were your family! He accepted you when I would not!" He screamed, trying to understand.
His parents were dead. T'Challa had not stopped Killmonger in time. He had failed. Again.
Bast! Why not me? Why let the failure continue on!?
Killmonger smirked, seemingly at perfect ease as he spoke up, "Yeah, in retrospect, not the smartest choice your dear old dad made, huh?"
"I'm going to KILL you!" T'Challa growled, closing his father's eyes, praying that he'd find some measure of peace with the ancestors.
Cutting off the head of his killer seemed a good start for that.
Killmonger tsked, tossing something in the air, a metallic device of some kind, "You know, I'll almost miss all of this." He said, pressing down on the device. "Except, nah." He chuckled.
T'Challa moved to rush him, when the entire palace shook in an almighty explosion. His face paled, as he stared at the cockily grinning murderer, "What did you do!?" He roared out, his heart thundering as he could hear screaming outside the Palace, an all encompassing cry from the people.
His eyes grew wide in disbelief as he looked out one of the windows, seeing the receding shield that had covered Wakanda, kept it safe. That's why I haven't heard any shells for the past few minutes… He realized.
The enemy had stopped their artillery, they knew!
Killmonger chuckled, tossing the detonator over his shoulder carelessly, still seemingly utterly relaxed, "Just blew your shield to kingdom come, cuz." His grin turned vicious, "There's so many people that want your head, I think I'll leave you alive to face justice, what do you say, King?"
"I will kill you…" T'Challa hissed out lowly, eyes almost glowing, as all he could see was red.
"Shield is confirmed down?" Justin asked, eyes intent on the screen as he typed in commands.
"It's confirmed, everyone's moving in, it's going to be a cluster fuck worse than anything the cold war ever threw at us, you mind? I'm kind of busy." Fury drawled sarcastically, before turning off the communications channel without waiting for confirmation.
Justin chuckled, "Fury, so full of charm…" He finished what he was doing, finger hovering over the enter key.
Flashback,
"So Erik Stevens? How was he?" Justin asked Domino casually.
Domino, lounging on the couch, stretched languidly like a cat, a smirk on her face, "Amazing, a veritable gift to women, wouldn't mind a rerun or twenty." She quipped.
Justin rolled his eyes, "I didn't ask about how he was in bed, Domino, what's your feeling about him?"
Giving her a vacation was well earned, but it didn't mean he wanted to know what fucking Killmonger got up to in bed.
Domino gave him a doubtful look, "Why are you asking me? You already know…"
Justin smirked, nodding, "I'm fairly certain yes, but getting a second opinion from someone I trust doesn't hurt…"
Domino looked slightly flattered, as she sat up straight on the couch, her expression more thoughtful, "He's very clever, and impossibly smooth, definitely not a follower, for all that he was masquerading as a soldier…"
Justin thought that fit his picture of the man perfectly, "Can he be trusted?" He asked, despite already knowing the answer.
Domino snorted, "He can be trusted to always look for an angle, sure." She said with surety.
Justin hummed thoughtfully, "I suppose it's a good thing I took precautions."
The poor man thought Hansen had given him a perfected Extremis, instead he'd gotten a version that slowly eroded.
By this point, his regeneration wouldn't be more than an ability to heal cuts.
Perfect for the implant in his head to take care of business if needed.
Justin eyed the program that held the only detonator to a man's brain, sliding his fingers over the keys.
Soon enough, Killmonger, he thought softly in his mind.
Too bad you're so untrustworthy, you could have been something…
Flashback end.
He pressed the enter key, sending the signal across the world to Wakanda.
"Sorry Erik, but some gifts shouldn't be taken at face value. They can be poisoned…"
Wakanda,
Before T'Challa could strike, Killmonger stumbled suddenly, raising a hand to his face, eyes shocked, as blood began pouring out of every orifice. His eyes met T'Challa's, agony and anger visible for only a second, "Hammer!" He managed to croak out in pure disbelief, getting out those last words, taking a step forward - before he seemed to lose control of his body, falling face first to the ground.
It was anticlimactic, and not at all satisfying to T'Challa, not enough to gain revenge on the traitor.
T'Challa hesitated before the body, unsure what was happening, and then suddenly Killmonger's head exploded like a melon that had taken a sledgehammer to it, blood and viscera showering him as he stared at the inexplicable moment, shocked and angry.
It finally clicked in his mind, through the haze of grief and anger.
Killmonger had been a disposable agent, completely unaware it seemed, someone had killed him from afar once the shield went down, even this outsider Wakandan was simply used by their enemies. Used and disposed of like trash!
Hammer… It all came back to Hammer. He was the reason for all of this…
He sent Killmonger.
He killed his country, his parents…
And now, he even stole T'Challa's revenge!
"Hammer…" He growled, sending one last glance at his parents, wishing he could do more, before he ran, heading for his sister.
They needed to leave.
Now!
…
Across the borders, NATO, SHIELD and various forces from neighboring African countries rushed in, ready to establish their own slice of the pie, and push out any latecomers.
It was a race, and therefore the forces pushed harder and further than what would be wise in traditional combat doctrines.
Of the Wakandans that got in the way…
No one had any time for them.
San Francisco, Pym technologies.
"Dad, what's the big rush?" Hope asked, with a hint of exasperation as she entered his office, having received no less than five phone calls and three emails to ensure she arrived.
He'd been more insufferable than ever lately. Hope would have thought that his genius being acknowledged across the world would have pleased him, but it only made him crankier.
They'd had to upgrade security tenfold due to the heightened threat profile, as everyone in the world realized the efficacy of Pym particles. Realized exactly what could be done with it.
She knew her father slept in his new and improved Ant Man suit nowadays, ensuring anyone trying to come for him would have a bad day.
She didn't go quite that far, but she regularly wore the Wasp suit under her clothes when out and about.
And of course there was the whole… Justin Hammer thing, and the superhero thing… Her dad had not been a fan of either of those developments.
She'd been so focused on her dad, sitting behind his desk with a pleased smile like the cat that got the canary, that she totally missed the other person in the room until he spoke up.
Then again, she generally tried to miss his presence while going around the building too.
"Hope, nice to see you again, radiant as always." Darren Cross said, a big grin on his face. He looked about as pleased as her dad did, except his grin was significantly dumber.
"Darren… What a surprise." Hope said, controlling her expression, turning towards her dad, "Dad… Mind explaining what's got you in such a good mood?" And why is your sleazy fanboy in here?
The only good thing about Darren Cross was that he'd normally spend all his time in the lab or sucking up to the board, so Hope didn't have to see him too much. What her father saw in that man she didn't know. He reminded her of a weasel, his smile at times too wide and too fake.
He was also very obviously into her. And saw her rejection as a cute game they were playing. Major skyscraper sized red flags right there.
Of course her dad disagreed, sometimes she wondered what on earth her mom could have ever seen in him.
"Hope, I've solved all our issues." Hank said smugly, gesturing to Darren, "Show her Darren."
Darren turned around and grabbed a helmet that had been behind him on the table.
Hope turned to her dad aghast, "You didn't!?"
Darren chuckled, fastening the Ant Man helmet onto his head, obviously wearing the suit under his clothes, "No need to sound so surprised Hope, my lovely, I'm practically family." With practiced ease, like he's been doing this for a while, he initialized the Pym particles in the suit, and shrunk down.
Hope turned stormy eyes on her dad again, not able to understand how he could sit there and look proud, after making such a fundamentally stupid decision. "You gave Darren Cross the Ant Man suit!?" She paused for a moment as Darren reappeared, at least he still had the old bulky type, not like Hope's where her helmet simply flowed on, due to her father's innovations in nanotech.
God, how could he ever think this was a good idea! She thought with disgust. Even if he didn't give him nanotech, he's literally handed Pym particles to this idiot, when he refused for so long to give even a tiny amount to Justin!
"Wait… How long have you had this?" She asked Darren suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.
"A few months, why?" Darren said, looking a bit put out that Hope wasn't more impressed, rubbing his arm like he was a child sent to the principal, feeling guilty but not knowing for what.
Foolish man, like she'd be impressed by a suit and power she'd seen her dad use frequently. That's just yuck, definitely not dating material, no matter how much he flashed cow eyes her way.
Hope turned to her father again, angry, practically spitting out, "What!? You made me beg for a year!"
Only the fact their threat profile had massively increased had led to him allowing her to have the Wasp suit, to wear it underneath her clothes everywhere she went to protect herself from potential kidnapping threats or worse. If that hadn't happened - she'd still be begging him for it! And Darren Cross got it in a few months!
Hank blanched, the pleased smile falling off his lips, "It isn't like that, Hope." He hurriedly tried to defend himself, "I gave it to him to protect you."
Hope straightened, a furious expression on her face, "I can protect myself, dad! And you what? Got me a superpowered bodyguard without even informing me?"
Sadly, she wasn't even surprised. This was very on brand for the great Hank Pym. She was angry though, very angry. "Did you not think for even a second that I should have a say in this?"
Darren was looking very uncomfortable now, and like he was wondering if he could shrink down again without being noticed. He also looked pathetically hurt, like Hope had crushed his dreams by not falling in love the moment she saw him in a matching suit.
Men!
Hank blustered a little, squirming in his seat, before as usual, stomping past all her thoughts and feelings to be Hank Pym about it, "Nevermind that, Hope! You've been running around with that nutjob Hammer, and now you're going to be part of some sort of superhero team! You didn't consult me on that, did you?" He said triumphantly.
Hope squashed the wish to throw something at him, she was better than that. "Who I spend time with is none of your business, dad! And the President asked me to join, and I have this suit for a reason! I couldn't say no to helping!"
Hank rose up, hands flat on the desk as his neck turned a furious red, "You have that suit because I gave it to you!" He spat out, eyes flashing behind his glasses. "It's for your protection, not so you can go seek danger!"
Hope couldn't believe what she was hearing, or she could… She just hadn't thought he'd be so pigheadedly obstinate with her. "So you should decide who I spend time with, what I wear, whether I change my career, whether I choose to serve my country?" She said dangerously quietly.
"Yes!" Hank yelled, before he seemed to realize what he was saying, "Wait, you know I don't mean it like that, Hope…" He said looking stricken.
Hope held her head high, "You made your meaning pretty clear, Mister Pym. Am I allowed to leave?" She asked coldly, bitterly.
She was after all just an employee at Pym technologies, and he was her boss and CEO.
"I think… Everyone should just take a deep breath, I've done a lot of Yoga and it's helped balance my chakras, I think you two could use some of that as well." Darren said with an easy grin, the fakeness practically exuding from him to Hope's eyes.
Hope ignored him completely, she was not even going to entertain the idea of this fool following her around as her bodyguard! And good luck getting Justin Hammer to accept him to the team, she was sure she could easily convince him to see it her way.
Her lips quirked just the tiniest bit, thinking Justin would probably go quite a bit further then just denying him a place if she told him her thoughts on the man. It felt nice to know someone had your back to such an extent. She eyed her boss angrily, unlike some people… She thought.
"I have work to do, may I be excused, sir?" She asked again, standing ramrod straight as she watched Hank Pym slump in his seat.
"We'll talk later… You'll understand, Hope." He said wearily.
Hope really doubted that. But she took the tacit agreement to leave, and walked out as soon as she could.
Screw work, she was getting absolutely shit faced.
On the company credit card.
She might as well buy a round or ten for everyone on the block as well…
Because fuck Hank Pym!
Madripoor, Violet Eye Brothel, same time.
Norman Osborn usually wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. So… Savage and uncouth.
The entire first floor seemed more like a debauched nightclub more than anything, cages hanging from the ceiling - women, men, boys and girls swaying to the music in various states of altered minds, prices displayed openly.
Life was cheap, not anything new to Norman.
Art was displayed in abundance, by a loose definition of the word - as the paintings invariably depicted people in flagrante, hardly worthy of the Louvre.
Well… Slap the right signature on the bottom, and it would get in, he supposed. He even employed a skilled forger just for the purpose of ruining the enjoyment of their art collections from his rivals.
He'd even hired the man from a place just like this in Madripoor, where everything and everyone was for sale.
The bar, the seating area and other various props and decorations were a mix of chrome and violet neon lights with splashes of graffiti here and there. Modern trash, he couldn't help but think of it.
The masses of apes that made up the lower class always found new ways to debase themselves…
It did have its charms though, he thought, as he brushed past several women only wearing glitter and bejeweled bits, serving drinks to the men and women who frequented the Violet Eye. Criminals and business men - not so different from each other after all.
And at least he didn't stand out too much in his finely tailored suit, the clientele being a mix of people such as he, down to filthy gangsters with gang tattoos proudly displayed.
A woman that was entirely colored in violet and purple skin with glowing pink eyes stepped up to him, her nails several inches long and appearing to be razor sharp with an almost metallic sheen, her toothy smile showcased equally razor sharp teeth. He was briefly interested in if the effect was due to the woman actually tattooing her entire body and filing her teeth, implanting the nails and such and wearing contact lenses - or if she was some kind of mutant. One took effort and commitment he could appreciate, the other he didn't care for. His eyes took in her entirely nude body, a voice somewhere cackling madly as he wondered if she'd bleed red, or purple.
He wasn't mad, it was the world that was insane, Norman seemed to be the only sane man left, the only one willing to make the hard choices.
"Monsieur Osborn, you're expected, I'm Madame Désordre, welcome to my Violet Eye." She said coolly, in an obviously french accent.
So obvious that he was almost positive it was all fake.
Norman raised an incredulous eyebrow at the knowledge she was the owner however, his bodyguards shuffling slightly in surprise behind him. The owner parading around like this was a shock - even though Norman had expected nothing but filth and damnation in this hellhole…
That said, for someone with a small measure of power - to debase themselves before clients and employees like this - he just couldn't understand these people. These weaklings.
Madame Désordre gave him a sardonic smirk, her eyes narrowing in cruel delight, "Ah, the great Norman Osborn is tongue-tied, yes?" She gestured with a toned muscled arm, her bust bouncing along with the action mesmerizingly, the woman showing no shame whatsoever, "The Violet Eye holds the desires of the world, which desire is it that you seek, hmm?"
Norman HATED her for a brief moment, CRUSH THAT SLUT! His ears ringing as his countenance darkened, as he took a step forward into Madame Désordre's personal space, "You can't possibly fathom my desires," He growled out almost bestialy. "You already know what I'm here for, don't play games with me!" His lips twisted into a snarl, as he almost spat at the woman.
Before his bodyguards could even react, two nails sharper and deadlier than most knives rested against his jugular, Madame Désordre studying him carefully, tapping his vein, "It's been some time since you've been in Madripoor, Monsieur Osborn…" She mused out loud.
His useless bodyguards raised their hands over their heads, as every man woman and child in the place somehow found themselves with a weapon in hand. Inevitably pointing it at them, more arriving on the balconies overlooking the first floor, turrets sliding out of the walls next to the entrance, whirring as they found them within their sights.
This was some achievement, as many of the employees were absolutely naked and hadn't had quick access to a weapon. He did find it quite amusing that the turrets were Oscorp branded too.
"How big your cock is outside in the other world doesn't matter here." She said wickedly, one of her fangs scratching up her lip, her long tongue idly licking up the blood, as she met his eyes. "Madripoor stands for Madripoor only, you can not come in here and try to push me around in my house!"
Norman cackled, eyes wild and alive as he pushed forward against the deadly weapons masquerading as nails that were held against his throat, Madame Désordre swiftly moving her hand back, a flicker of something uncertain appearing in her eyes, "Are you mad, Osborn? That would have killed you." She said bluntly.
Norman pushed forward yet another step, Madame Désordre having the choice to kill him, or to step back from him in front of everyone. Norman just knew somehow, something insistent singing in his veins, that he'd win this confrontation no matter what. "Is it mad? I see you backing up, little rabbit." He said viciously, a mad grin on his face as the proprietor of the Violet Eye stepped away from him fully, eying him warily.
She had lost. She was not as willing to kill someone of his stature as she'd postured. He glorified in her hate filled gaze. His dominance assured, just like that little voice in the back of his mind whispered.
"Kill the rest of them!" She spat out, acting like an angry toddler, lashing out. Gunfire briefly erupting after her words and managing to paint the mostly violet building red, Norman quite liked it. It was an improvement.
Not as nice as green, but red had its own charm.
His men had been caught completely unprepared, having visibly kept hands away from their weapons in the face of overwhelming firepower. The flashes of bullets fired from all directions and the screams they elicited as they mowed down his men like wheat, made Norman feel alive in a way he hadn't in over a decade, something within him stirring in lust.
He eyed the dead and dying bodyguards impassively, hiding his arousal over the scene. Having seen Madame Désordre back down before him once already, he wasn't worried. And he'd just hire some of this rabble for when he needed to leave. "You've saved me the bother of paying them for services rendered, I suppose your little club does have its uses." He grumbled, sneering at her, "Now take me to my meeting, you were hired to facilitate this were you not?"
Madame Désordre twitched irritably, "Clean this filth up!" She snapped to her people, fingers twitching as she slit the throat of a boy walking past her with a tray of long necked drinks, "Get out of my way!" She snarled, walking away towards a doorway in the back, guarded by several armed men with military quality weaponry.
Norman looked down at the rapidly spreading pool of blood from the collapsed server boy, laughing quietly to himself, now… Now the woman was somewhat attractive to him…
He followed her lackadaisically, in no particular rush now, because he knew it would annoy the woman - now that her little power play had so miserably failed.
He was led through two corridors, before Madame Désordre stopped by a large door, again guarded by burly military grade style types. "He's in there." She said shortly, crossing her arms under her bust, giving him a hateful stare.
Norman simply chuckled at her, patting her on the cheek, not even caring about the three cuts he received to his hand as she slapped it away, they were only skin deep anyway, she'd held back, scaredy cat…. "Everything is for sale, you said… Don't go anywhere, consider yourself bought for the evening." He ordered cruelly, delighting in the absolute loathing she directed his way.
He knew her type now, the kind of criminal that would sell even their grandmother with a smile, in parts, piecing her out herself. She'd hate him for every moment, but she'd take his money. He couldn't care less about the sex, but putting her in her place… Oh yes, it would be worth the no doubt exorbitant fee.
He entered, plastering on a regular smile, "Ulysses Klaue, you're a hard man to get a hold of nowadays…"
Klaue, dressed in some kind of ridiculous fake military outfit with so many medals on it that it could sink a ship, grinned widely, leaning back against a violet and circuitous couch, "Well if it isn't Norman Osborn, howdya manage to sucker the military into buying your crap ahead of my mate Justin, huh?"
Norman had known the man was annoying, but to open with that, he was beginning to think his sources had undersold it.
"Superior abilities and product." Norman said, feeling a spike of anger at the assertion that his superior products were inferior to Hammer. "I was under the impression you had accepted this meeting with the intent to do business?" He didn't bother to sit down, having some serious doubts on the cleanliness of any private room in this locale.
Klaue grinned happily, "Maybe I just wanted to have you fly all the way over here, all worked up for nothing, eh?" Before letting loose a loud guffaw, slapping his knee in an absurd showing of some kind of slapstick humor, while Norman twitched and stood there, growing increasingly angrier.
This cretin isn't taking me seriously!
"You may have come across a bit of luck with current world events, Klaue, but I would not be taking this so humorously." Norman warned, not letting his anger and disgust show on his face. Trailer trash weapons dealer, you're nothing but refuse swimming with sharks, Klaue…
Klaue stopped laughing, leaning forward slightly, one hand stroking his beard, his fingers each adorned by a gaudy ring. "Like in everything else, Osborn, you're beneath Justin Hammer, even in the threats department." He chuckled, tapping his knuckles against the low wooden table in front of him, "My mate had this look in his eyes like he wanted to dissect me at times, really had me over the barrel once too, but he needed me too much to ever pull the trigger." His eyes glinted with malice and greed as he smacked his lips loudly, blowing Norman a kiss, "Just like you're here cuz you need me, eh?"
What patience Norman still held, snapped, and between one moment and the next, he was holding Klaue up in the air, a manic grin on his face as Klaue kicked fruitlessly against him, his eyes wide. "Well then, Klaue, there's the difference between Hammer and me!" He cackled, his grin spreading wider, encompassing his entire jaw, his eyes almost popping out of his face as he held Klaue up in the air without a hint of effort. "I have a hair trigger! Sometimes I don't even realize I've pulled the trigger until there's a big mess everywhere…"
As he cackled, he thought he could hear more cackling from everywhere around him, only making him want to do it more, even as Klaue was turning blue, slapping his arm, trying desperately to tap out. "You know more about Wakanda than you're saying, I want that info, I want to know where the juiciest pieces are, so that when the shield falls, I'll get the best slice of the pie, and you will tell me, won't you?"
He lowered the man's face, so that they were eye to eye, enjoying the panic he saw in the other man's eyes as his air was beginning to run out.
"What say you, Klaue? Who's scarier now?" He hissed out, seeing his own approving and grinning face in the reflection of Klaue's eyes.
Hammer industries private jet, with Elena.
As Justin was making himself comfortable in the chair of secrecy - as she liked to call it - Elena settled down on the couch, laptop on her knees as she thought over things.
Maybe it was odd for a spy and assassin to enjoy being a personal assistant, but she honestly had never felt more powerful than she felt now.
Instead of guns, knives and wire, she wielded the pen, phone and laptop. And she held in her hands more power than some leaders of developed countries.
The amount of trust and power Justin gave to his inner circle - once you got in - was mind boggling. It was no wonder Sunil had abandoned HYDRA immediately, the right hand of Hammer could practically decide which country lived or died.
How many HYDRA goons could say the same?
Sunil had been found out immediately however… While Elena was still keeping a big secret. And everyday she wondered if they all knew, and just kept quiet, trusted her anyway.
Or if she was going to be put in the deepest hole on earth once she came clean.
She didn't think Justin would do that, because she'd proved her loyalty over and over again, but it would still amount to a betrayal of trust, and she felt a pang inside her at the idea of Justin no longer trusting her.
Which made it all the harder to come clean and tell him who she really was and why she was initially sent here…
She still sent falsified reports back from time to time, pretending she was still doing her job, that she was still a good little black widow. Luckily enough she hadn't received any other orders than to keep close and gather information. Not that she sent back true information anyway.
If the order came down to kill…
She'd have to come clean immediately, before more Black Widow's arrived, this time to take her out, for refusing orders.
After Wakanda is taken down, things will calm down, I'll tell him then. She decided, glancing over at the chair, privacy screens already up and limiting her view of Justin.
She bit her lip, her sister would so make fun of her for developing feelings for a target if she heard about it…
She snorted amusedly, then again, Nat had her own run in with Justin, as she'd found out.
She'd refused to watch the whole video on principle, because sister. But she was very amused at how completely played her sister had been, the feared Black Widow™ fooled completely and dancing to the tune of Justin's skilled fingers. She blushed slightly, and the fact he outmaneuvered one of the best spies in the world is totally attractive too…
She was still slightly pissed because on one hand, he'd embarrassed her sister. On the other, it was funny, and gave her some much needed ammunition against her big sister.
Who's the best widow now, Natasha?
She tapped her lip with a finger, frowning in thought, it will make Christmas dinners slightly awkward though I suppose.
She glanced at Justin again, I was totally better than her too, right? Is it okay to ask? Or is that creepy?
She could literally feel her cheeks flaming up, so she dropped that line of thought, and focused on her laptop.
They had over a hundred Metahumans who'd applied - they all needed comprehensive psych profiles and background checks done before they could trust their application to be genuine.
Sunil was busy with the revitalization of Africa, so it came to her to arrange everything. Her eyes narrowed as she came upon a name she knew from her Black Widow days.
A mutant that definitely could not be trusted, one who had assisted Dreykov before.
And for this kind of scum, she was perfectly comfortable using Mutant instead of Metahuman.
It was a conundrum however… If Dreykov knew somehow that she had any say on these applications, her turning them down would signal that she was no longer mind controlled - while her not having reported that she had that much power, would signal it as well.
But if she said yes, she'd be inviting a snake into the company to do damage, someone she knew to be a sociopath.
Denied, she clicked, putting a red flag on the application to ensure there was no doubt about the unviability of his application.
She'd made her bed, and once Justin accepted her apologies for keeping it secret for so long.
She'd deliver him an army of sexy Black Widow secretaries to do his bidding!
Hammer industries private jet, With Justin.
Justin was still in the World Security Council chair, eyes closed as he listened to the communication as SHIELD tried to organize and herd the over a dozen different militaries that were rushing into Wakanda at top speed.
They took losses of course, as the Wakandan super soldiers had been close to the border, and suicidically threw themselves at the foreign invaders in a vain attempt to slow them down.
Except they weren't facing stationary artillery targets now, sneaking around in the night in hit and run tactics.
Facing a mobile highly trained and flexible attacking force, the Wakandan super soldiers found themselves flanked and pinned in short order, taking dozens of men down with them for each one, but all being brought down.
All faithfully reported over channels, SHIELD sorting through it all, allowing Justin to take it all in, keeping an eye on Fury through it all, half believing the spy of spies would pull something.
His eyes opened as someone screamed over the channel, "Launch detected!" Complete silence descending for but a millisecond, before everyone began hustling.
"Where goddamnit!?" Fury's voice came over the line as Justin grabbed the chair tightly with his hands, no, not fucking again! He thought, stop playing with nukes you fucking morons!
"Satellite's detected it… African east coast, outside Somalia. It's the Iliad!" The operator's voice yelled out, sounding defeated.
"Motherfucker, get everyone out! Every damn man and woman with a goddamn radio, cellphone or loud voice get a hold of them and get those men out!" Fury roared, the channels exploding with chatter.
NATO had just entered the country, the Americans and Africans both already rushed in way ahead of them, albeit from different vectors, both now far enough inside a quick retreat was likely impossible in time.
Justin closed his eyes, feeling sick.
There were not enough assets for taking down a ballistic missile in eastern Africa. The American aircraft carriers were in the Mediterranean, and wouldn't be able to respond in time, the Iliad had popped up too close to Wakanda.
He could still hope that Wakanda had a missile defense. C'mon you advanced bastards, missile defense is nothing, tell me you've got it, he thought.
He had no idea if a nuclear strike would affect the Vibranium, but if Wakanda was wiped off the map, it was going to be a prelude to a lot of world issues as every nation began to prepare for escalation, watching each other anxiously.
Wondering if one of them was truly behind it all in an attempt to stop the others.
Time ticked down, the cacophony of noise ignored by Justin as he waited. He had changed the world.
If Wakanda was wiped out in nuclear fire…
It was he that had done it.
"Wakandan response in the air!" Someone spoke over the noise in the channel to say, everyone else quieting down, "Birds approaching, they won't make it in time, missiles launching from all over Wakanda, they're giving it everything they've got!"
Silence, utter silence, as everyone waited.
"Missile destroyed!" Was finally reported.
Across the world, a sigh of relief was let loose amongst the intelligence and military community.
Justin's was likely the biggest.
"R-report in from the US embassy in Moscow, the Russians have told them they've lost contact with one of their nuclear submarines, want us to know any action isn't from them." A shaky sounding operator spoke over the channel.
The palpable relief present just seconds ago, disappeared in a rush of fear and paranoia.
"How long ago!?" Fury barked, sounding disturbed - speaking up after a moment of sheer disbelief, one shared by Justin as he listened in.
Because you have got to be kidding me right now?
"Thirty minutes sir!"
"Took their sweet time…" Fury cursed, "Last known location?"
"... The coast of Saudi Arabia."
Which is not that far away from Wakanda… Justin thought, gnawing on a nail, who the fuck is doing this!?
And why the fuck do the Russians have a sub there in the first place.
"China has reached out, they've.. A-also lost contact with one of their nuclear submarines, thirty one minutes ago." Another operator said quietly, but everyone heard, "The Chinese called the American ambassador and they've just passed it along to us up the chain."
"What?" Fury asked flatly.
"Sir! Just in from the Pentagon, they lost contact with USS Kentucky and USS Nebraska, fifteen minutes ago!" Came the cry from yet another operator.
Justin felt real fear, this just couldn't be happening!
In the comics and movies no one just went and stole nuclear weapons! It wasn't done!
"Launch detected!"
"Two launches detected off the west coast of Africa!"
"Launch detected off the coast of Saudi Arabia!"
The chatter died down, NATO and US forces were already scrambling jets, a last ditch attempt to shoot down the ballistic missiles heading for Wakanda.
No one believed Wakanda had the defenses capable of stopping this after that last gasp salvo - the forces already inside Wakandan soil, would not make it out on time.
All they could do was sit and wait.
Bearing silent witness.
Wakanda,
T'Challa loaded the last of the people he could afford to take onboard sans one last one, feeling melancholy, and a deep sense of anger.
He'd recognized the activation of their last gasp missile defense, something that would only be happening if the westerners were planning on bombing them into oblivion.
He only needed the last person to board, and they would at least save something from Wakanda.
"Okoye, it's time." He said, watching the woman standing by the flight platform, staring into the distance, towards the mountains.
"No, my place is in Wakanda, I was born here…" Okoye turned to him, her eyes wet, but her face full of determination, "And I'll die here, taking as many of these monsters down with me as I can."
"Okoye… Please, I need you onboard." T'Challa begged, not wanting to lose another person close to him.
She smiled softly at him, "You do not need me, my king." She stepped up to him, hands on his shoulders as she leaned her forehead against his, "You are everything a Wakandan should be, go, save what you can."
"Wakanda forever…" T'Challa said sadly, looking around, taking one last look at it all, Wakanda, Okoye, his home.
"Wakanda forever!" Okoye snapped out, crossing her arms across her chest.
T'Challa stepped onboard, the ship he'd had his people work on day and night taking off into the air.
Okoye looked at it until it disappeared completely into the sky.
She was ready to die, to fight these westerners, to kill. She'd show them the swansong of Wakanda, and they'd sing songs of their last defense for eternity.
She was tossed off her feet suddenly, as a sound unlike anything she'd ever heard erupted all around her, the noise alone tossing her.
From her prone position, she could see the mushroom cloud, and the ever closing devouring trail of smoke, fire and debris heading her way, ruining everything in its path.
"COWARDS!" She shouted as nuclear fire wiped everything away.
Wakanda's last song never sung.
Time ticked by, even Fury not barking orders as they waited for the results, hopelessly praying for a miracle.
Even Justin had nothing this time. Anything short of Magneto vacationing in Wakanda right now would fail to have any significant effect.
One broken voice came over the channel, "One bogey down… Three hits…"
Justin disconnected, feeling sick.
Wakanda just took three nuclear strikes.
Three!
He'd changed something. Something for the worse.
Someone out there had done everything in their power to wipe out Wakanda.
And they'd succeeded.
High above Wakanda, in orbit.
T'Challa couldn't believe it.
Not in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that their enemies would go that far.
The shield was down, they were practically defenseless, their other defenses gradually having been decommissioned over the years as the reliability of their shield and anonymity - led to it being considered a waste of funds to maintain.
With the help of Wakanda's best scientists, he'd succeeded in transforming the corpses of several of their warships, into one larger ship to transport as many of his people as he could cram in over the last few months.
Originally intended for his parents, Shuri and Nakia, to escape the murderous westerners who'd no doubt kill them all for being associated with Wakanda's ruling family. It was now holding over three dozen other Wakandan's.
Shuri stood by his side, staring down at the sight of Wakanda's death, her lip wobbling as she tried to be brave.
Tried not to cry. To show herself as a proud Wakandan warrior - like Okoye.
Okoye… Robbed of your last stand…
T'Challa laid a hand on Shuri's head, speaking softly, his voice hoarse from all the screaming and crying he'd done so far, "Cry, Shuri, let it out, there is no shame here, cry for our people, our land, for our family, our friends. No warrior has dry eyes today, sister."
His own were red, tears streaking down his face, even as his heart burned with everburning hatred.
They would traverse space, their experimental ship hopefully enough to get them to somewhere habitable.
Then, someday, even if he had to wait until he was ancient…
They would pay!
All of them!
Justin Hammer!
New York, Hilton Hotel, next day.
Justin wanted to tear his hair out, as he tossed his phone onto the couch, holding back a scream of frustration. The President's hands were tied up right now, he couldn't do anything no matter what Justin threatened.
The World Security Council's moronic assertion that Magneto was behind this all, was going to screw up everything he was doing.
If anything, the addition of several nuclear subs going out of contact at the same time, and launching their payload against Wakanda - pointed away from Magneto.
He was one powerful bastard, but controlling the Iliad and several submarines from opposite ends of the continent at the same time, might be too much even for him.
And he hated that comic book shenanigans forced him to have to add the might, onto there. Because he possibly was that powerful.
Magneto would have to respond if the world shoveled this crap onto his shoulders. Which would only worsen the situation. Which was why he was doing everything in his power to get the leaders of the world to reject any overreaction to the Council's moronic assertion.
"At least it can't get any worse than it is right now…" He muttered, the intelligence agencies and government brass had no intention of publicly calling out Magneto at this time. Which gave him time to work something out.
The situation was still manageable, if not at an ideal state.
He really hoped the Vibranium mines were fine, or the world governments were going to throw even more of a hissy fit.
The fact Wakanda was practically wiped out, wasn't very high on anyone's concern, only the consequences thereof.
At least amongst the powerful in the world.
Justin wondered briefly who would actually want to wipe them out, or limit access to Vibranium. Surely even the Mandarin or any other villain would want the miracle metal around…
Africa was already bracing itself for what may come their way as winds picked up, and he couldn't imagine who'd risk so much, risk total nuclear war for this.
Only the fact that all the major nations involved had actually communicated beforehand had kept things steady, none of the major powers adding to the horror show by adding their own fire.
The Iliad and the submarines had all apparently been sunk, their purpose spent.
He'd have to look into it as a matter of course, but first he needed to clean up this whole situation, before it boiled over into his Metahumans project. As crass as it was to say, even as sick as he felt over it all, life moved on, and he couldn't stop.
He knew he'd have nightmares from this… Probably would have already if he'd at all managed to sleep since.
Wordlessly Elena gestured to the TV, drawing his attention, so Justin stomped over, and raised the volume. It was a live press conference on CNN. Some newly elected congressman he had never heard of, the names tended to blend together when several hundred of them were being elected at the same time.
He felt he should have remembered this name however, because how often was a little person elected to Congress?
He looked a little like Peter Dinklage if he squinted, and he wondered why Elena wanted him to watch some rookie congressman shoot his mouth.
On the screen, the tiny severe figure of Bolivar Trask was seen, (name shown on the screen) microphones shoved into his face as he held a fiery speech, eyes almost feverish, "- this is absolute proof that Hammer's whitewashing of these mutants is absolutely ridiculous, Magneto is the number one suspect for this heinous attack, a mutant capable of controlling several nuclear missiles at a time with the ease you and me have carrying a bag of groceries to the car."
How the fuck does he have that information! The President of the United fucking States didn't know Magneto was a suspect until I fucking told him what the Security Council believed and tried to get him on my side of things… Justin immediately resolved to put this Trask midget, high up on his to do list.
The reporters all shouted out questions, eager for more of the controversy that would erupt from the words of the newly elected congressman. Trask ignored them all, staring deeply into the camera, speaking to the American people in living rooms across America, "Make no mistake, mutants are not our friends, they are here, amongst us, hiding, waiting to strike. They're able to kill us at a glance, read and steal our minds, make us into vegetables - or in the case of the real monsters, like Magneto, capable of annihilating civilization." Trask said chillingly, his absolute surety in what he was saying resonating through the airwaves.
"Pay some mutants to do charity in Africa if you wish, Justin Hammer, try and change their names to something more PR friendly, it will avail you nothing." Trask voice rose in a crescendo as he continued, "They will turn on you, they will turn on us all, because they're not like us, and they are capable of completely wiping humanity off the face of the earth, we can no longer let it be, not after last night's display, the earth itself and all of humanity counts on us to ACT NOW!"
Justin stared at the TV screen, a complicated expression on his face.
"Shit." He said succinctly.
Author's note:
Justin: I very clever, stop Killmonger from stabbing in back!"
T'Challa: HAMMER! I will go to the ends of the solar system to mount your head on a pike!
Oops?
Oh well shit happens, you can't change the world without breaking a couple countries I guess.
Yelena has been a Black Widow for a long time, so her views aren't exactly the same as a normal person - seduction is a matter of fact thing, so she's slightly pissed, but mostly amused at the whole Natashalie failed seduction and its consequences.
Again I don't know business and politics nor claim to do so, take everything in this chapter and ongoing ones as made up because it sounds okay - not gospel or real world stuff.
Also you didn't really think the mutant issue was going to go smoothly now?
Cheers
For those interested in voting for which story gets priority or early access, I have a Patreon
Warning for some slight heavy stuff in this chapter. People die, and other people mourn, and shit goes down.
Also warning: Politics here aren't real, purely made up for the story, don't read into it. It's made up. I'm not American. I have no horse in that race, so no one go too crazy now.
Even Justin has a heart it seems, or at least a conscience.
And he still excels in making enemies for himself. Which will surely not bite him in the ass down the road.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
May 4th, New York, the Hilton.
"I can't believe they scheduled congressional elections on May the fourth." Justin muttered, watching on the news as the first predicted ending polls were being discussed.
As he didn't have a proper headquarters in New York, he was once again forced to settle for the top penthouse suite at one of New York's hotels.
His business was thrumming along at full speed and with great effect, Sunil's work in Cairo combined with the influx of working people - was greatly speeding up the more simple projects like building up the road network across the continent.
He'd already begun with efforts to reclaim the desert. For once, it was not Vanko's designs that assisted with the process.
He'd taken some of what he'd seen of Vanko's work, and applied it to large vehicles, like trucks and excavation vehicles, making them into drones, using arc reactors instead of engines to give that extra oomph, with tracks instead of wheels - also saving an absolute fortune in gas expenses.
They were removing a ridiculous amount of sand, and since sand was used in the process to make silica, further moving it onto silica wafers used for microchips, he was even making this process into a business.
Everyone needed microchips after all.
Of course, there was a reason people didn't use Saharan sand and its resources for silica wafers. In a word - it was too dirty.
Compared to the sand from beaches there were more contaminants like iron amongst the particles, that made them unsuitable for both fine and industrial glass, and for silica wafers.
It was also eroded by wind instead of water which created other issues, like making the grains of sands too smooth. It also lacked the necessary quartz component ideal for silicon for similar reasons.
Justin simply went the extra expensive step of creating factories that processed the sand, before distributing the sifted and treated particles to factories around it, who'd make industrial strength glass from it.
He had other factories concerned with making wafers for microchips, mixing in some of the ingredients necessary for the process with the sand, and crafting the sand necessary for the silicon conversion. All mostly automated, even if so far only a third of the facilities were even built, the sand extraction moving at snail pace until the factories were built up properly.
Prohibitively expensive to do in the African desert or anywhere else really, unless the entire sand gathering workforce was basically arc powered drones, meaning no gas costs, no human cost - except for the staff overlooking the process and the maintenance and cleaning staff ensuring the trucks kept running after a day in the desert.
Same with the automation in the factories, overlooked by a computer and maintenance team, severely limiting costs after the initial outlay. No one else could realistically afford to do this in conventional manners, but he could and had the means, so it was getting done, slowly.
So he was cleaning out the desert one truck at a time, making room for an eventual takeover process of the cleared areas via forestation or habitation, while also making a bundle on turning that sand into money via glass and silica wafers.
The press was absolutely loving him for his 'environmental' work.
But then they always loved him now.
Something he'd used to tie a lot of potential Congress members to his interests. Normally, he'd be all for ushering in more of the old guard, as they were easily bought. The problem of course was that they were easily bought.
He had no use for men and women who'd take his 'gift' and turn around and vote against his interests a few months later after finding some nice gifts from someone else.
Whores should stay bought.
So he had both openly, and more covertly, been pushing for some young guns to enter the race. Harder to control, but bustling with the wish for change - and nothing spoke of change at the moment like Justin Hammer and Hammer industries. All of which neatly ensured they'd protect his interests from whatever remains of the old traditional members that managed to get in.
There would always be some, the south wouldn't vote for anything else. They were predictable to the extreme, hence why no politician bothered to ever say anything new down there, just shouting about immigrants over and over again.
There was a reason Justin preferred to stay away from there. He couldn't stand willful ignorance.
Domino chortled, juggling some citrus fruits in apparent boredom, "Must make you feel good with so many of your 'young' political proteges signing off with - may the force be with you - before going to the polls." She teased.
She had been laughing at him all morning, because everytime he heard that idiocy, he twitched.
Justin twitched irritably, again. "It was moronic, they need to appeal to the older crowd, not enough younger people vote, they already have that locked in just by age and good looks." He grumbled, annoyed as always when catching people at incompetence. At least when it was people nominally on his side, catching enemies at incompetence was, as always, delicious.
"A republican supermajority in Congress is going to make things… Interesting." Sunil spoke up dryly over conference call, the time difference made no difference, he was always on duty.
Justin had a few prospects now for people to fix his AI deficiency, and Sunil was hunting them down, he should get the man another dozen assistants or something.
"Blame the fears from Wakandan stupidity on that." Justin said, not necessarily opposed in theory, Warhawks were good for business after all. Especially the weapons business.
The problem lay in the fact that sometimes they literally picked their hill to die on - and would refuse to be moved no matter if the apocalypse was forthcoming, which didn't make them reliable.
Not fully.
Again - see the south.
A younger Congress would hopefully somewhat alleviate that, allowing Justin to sway them his way without being obvious about it. Republicans loved the war industry and big business… To a certain extent.
Justin would have to keep it that way. Or Ellis would be using a lot of vetoes.
If only Tony Stark could start making some sense, then this last month or two would have been almost perfect.
He had been out of his cave for two months now, a month earlier than he was supposed to be, sure, but still, he had the time to get going already.
So why was the asshole not flying around in his suit yet!?
Stark industries was busy trying to expand, while dealing with the logistics problem he'd created. Neither of which should take Tony away from his suit this long - isn't that what he had Jarvis, Stane and Pepper for?
Why hadn't he gone to Gulmira? It was still a terrorist plagued hellhole! Didn't Yinsen care? Why weren't they doing anything?
It was frustrating the hell out of Justin.
They were only a few months away from Thor and Iron Man 2, and Tony still wasn't Iron Man, not that there even was a Stark Expo this time around. Stark industries for some reason didn't think they'd be very impressive with recent events, or so he assumed.
No more thinking on Tony, or I'll never get anything done. He decided, turning back to the present.
"What's the progress in Cairo like, Sunil?" He asked, idly watching as the news continued to predict a landslide Republican victory due to Democrats being perceived as weak on the military and war efforts.
Mostly helped along by some serious gaffes by various black liberals trying to lessen the hate on for Wakanda - political suicide to anyone with a brain - yet they'd still stood to their principles.
It would cost them now, for the first time in Justin's memory, people weren't voting exclusively in their normal locked down affiliations, like their dad before them and grandfather before that, etc.
Sunil sounded almost cheerful, as he responded, "Going splendidly, sir. Miss Munroe is a delight to work with, her efficiency and charisma is moving UNESCO into the hearts and minds of everyone here, and by far, the Metahuman approval rating is ticking higher by the minute."
Hearts and minds and probably cocks, Justin thought amused, Storm wasn't hard to look at, and a whole generation of Africans were likely in love. "Keep giving her a long leash, I don't really care what she and her team is doing as long as it's good PR." He ordered, he hardly needed to micromanage Storm, she believed this was mutants one chance to come out as something benevolent, she wouldn't risk fucking with Hammer industries at this point in time.
Neither was she the type, most of Xavier's people too good for their own good - and not at all likely to backstab an ally.
As far as UNESCO went, it was all his down to the core now. Unsurprisingly, the funding and effort to rebuild UN operations and staff was almost non-existent, as every major power focused on the Vibranium gold rush.
At this point, Justin doubted the United Nations would even return to its former state at all.
"And the state of our operations in Africa?" He queried next, keeping his mind busy and getting a feel for how things were progressing.
"Red tape is practically non-existent as the leaders of each respective country are doing everything in their power to accommodate us at the moment." Sunil said confidently, "Our operations are only slowed down by the lack of infrastructure in some of the countries we are operating in, as soon as we get them up to snuff, projections have us two months ahead of schedule."
Justin chuckled, pleased with the news. "For all the miracles we've created, from clean energy to Panacea, large infrastructure projects finishing ahead of time, might be the biggest of them all."
Elena walked in just then, a frown on her pretty face, "Sir, your request for Phantazia to return was denied." She reported.
Justin turned his head slowly towards her, "Excuse me?" He said, not sure if he heard that correctly.
"She sent back a short reply stating that she was going to finish out her entire leave of absence, we also received a message from Magneto." Elena said, Domino sitting up straighter, a frown on her face now as well.
Phantazia was a workaholic, either the Mystique issue was more complex than they had ever imagined - or something weird was going on.
Justin was willing to bet on weird. It was always weird.
Justin rubbed his brow, always has to be something, he lamented. "Well what is his message?"
Elena pursed her lips, anger flashing in her eyes, "Denied." She said, "That is it."
"Of course, very informative." Justin muttered, wondering if it was even worth pursuing right now. He had so many irons in the fire as it was, if Phantazia was in trouble, could he even get her out?
Can't expect them to be loyal if I am not… He thought with disquiet, she's been steadfast for over two years… He glanced at Domino who looked unusually non-cheerful for her. There's also the problem of losing others loyalty as well if I hesitate.
"Elena, Sunil, start pouring over all the information we have on the Brotherhood and their whereabouts, I'll talk to Xavier…" He made a noise of disgust, "And ask him for a favor." Justin said, annoyed at the interruption to a simple day watching America's future change almost irrevocably.
"Sunil, start equipping our security with the plastic weaponry… Just in case, and someone notify Vanko."
The man had some anti-Magneto ideas he'd been tinkering with. Perhaps it was time to start deploying them.
Just then, his glasses beeped, signifying the one and only secret communication avenue he had that would loudly announce itself like that so he'd not miss it - one that was important and very late, and he groaned, "When it rains it pours. I need to get to my jet, it's the closest safe spot for contacting the World Security Council."
Because the message he got was from Killmonger, his little snake in the grass was finally ready to destroy Wakandas main shield generator.
He felt like slapping himself in the face. God, now I even sound like I'm in a Star Wars movie. Blowing up shield generators, ugh…
"Now people, now!" He snapped out, Elena jumping slightly as she got to work.
Ugh, Killmonger finally… Took you long enough…
He glared at Domino who leaned back onto the couch, a leg over her knee, "Don't you have work to do?" He sniped.
She smirked mischievously, "I do, my job is watching your cute little butt, so I guess I'm doing great, watching you right now, in fact." She said irreverently, gesturing to her own eyes with two fingers and then to him, smirking the entire time.
Justin definitely needed Phantazia back, his people were getting way too cheeky with him.
Three hours later, Hammer Industries private jet.
Justin hated waiting. On anything. He was fine with others waiting on him, as was only proper, but waiting on the other Security Council members was literally torturous.
They were the ones who had hassled him for weeks, wanting updates on Killmonger's process, updates he didn't have, because he was deep undercover and reporting in daily or weekly was retarded.
Something the oversight council of an intelligence agency should have known.
And now he had the update they'd been waiting for… And they were making him wait!
Finally, minutes later, the last member's hologram appears, Gideon Malick, the prick.
"Does this mean you finally have something useful, Hammer?" He immediately asked, not even bothering with the niceties.
Justin raised a mocking eyebrow, "As opposed to the eminently useful information you've given, Malick?" None, in case that wasn't obvious you odious toad!
He'd already known Malick's name from Pierce, but the rest had finally broken down and shared identities in some futile effort of getting some team cohesiveness between council members.
Or because they noticed his people had been sniffing around and figured they'd get it out of the way.
He knew which theory he subscribed to.
Alexander Pierce, attending the meeting for the first time in weeks, raised his hands in a calming motion, "Now, let's not get away from the matter at hand, you've called this meeting, Justin, do you have anything to share?"
Don't call me Justin… He wanted to say, but HYDRA was still a somewhat useful friend, even if they didn't know he knew as much as he did. They were obviously angling to recruit him though, which hell no!
"My operative has the ability to end the shield, today. He's only waiting for my order." Justin said smugly, a touch of arrogance to his posture.
These other jokers held some minor power, but they'd failed in as much as scratching Wakanda, so as usual it came down to Justin's superior planning.
"That's very useful information, can we afford to wait?" The - totally not a Mandarin spy - Asian councilor asked softly. "He could be discovered any day, and we'd lose our only reliable way to end this farce of a war."
"Setting things off too early has its disadvantages too," The British councilor interjected, "The major nations have still not come to an agreement on the distribution of Vibranium, if the shield falls…"
"It will be a free for all, an utter mess that risks setting off world war three. Again." The Indian councilor said, with clear disgust in his voice, "Can we risk it?"
"Esteemed councilors, do you believe there's any chance of an agreement between the major nations in the near future?" Pierce asked politely, his gaze almost jovial.
Justin scoffed loudly, drawing attention, "We speak of that like the people in this room does not influence those decisions."
"It's not as simple as that." Malick said, voice dripping with distaste, "No one in this room controls what Russia or China might do…"
A funny thing to say with the Asian hemisphere's councilor right there, but in essence the truth, he's not the one with control…
Justin smiled sardonically, "We might not control them, but we know exactly how they'll act, and it won't make a difference if it's now or six months from now." He gave them a piercing gaze, "Except now, we have the means, who knows about the future…"
"Your man can deliver?" The Indian councilor asked quietly.
"Of course."
What a pointless question, why else would Justin even have called this meeting for?
"If we're moving immediately, I'll contact NATO to put all the pieces in place." The British councilor said, with a deep sigh following her statement.
Gideon Malick looked displeased, as he acknowledged the apparent will of the council, "I'll speak to Ross, if anyone can get the US forces hopping, it's him." From the immediate grimace that appeared on his face, Ross had worked his usual charms it seemed…
Pierce smiled grimly, "SHIELD is already on the ground and will of course be notified to stand ready."
Ready to loot, no doubt, Justin thought, finding it amusing that there was literally no difference between HYDRA and SHIELD in this matter.
"What kind of timeframe will we have?" The Asian councilor asked Justin bluntly.
Justin hesitated momentarily, wondering if he should push for more time, or just get this over with. Eventually his busy schedule convinced him the sooner the better. "The armies are all already there right? So tonight, let's not risk my operative or his sabotage being discovered."
"Armies don't move that quickly." One of the so far silent councilors broke in with.
"They'll have to today, gentlemen and lady." Pierce said firmly, "We all better get working." He glanced at Justin, "Give us a few hours, then we'll work on what time we'll set it all off, we want to have our asses covered on this one."
Needless to say, the whole world would be watching, Wakanda's defeat was one of the most significant world encompassing issues since World War Two.
Justin logged off, feeling that it had been all too easy, not something he was used to with the council.
It discomforted him. Usually it was like pulling teeth, so the fact they all so easily folded…
Was he making the right choice in moving immediately?
Wakanda, Royal Palace, Living quarters,
T'Challa sighed despondently as he made his way through the corridors, heading towards his parents' living area.
Normally the Royal Palace brought him a sense of pride and contentment, but now all he felt was dread as he traversed the halls. It felt too much like the beginnings of a catacomb to him, his surroundings more and more equating to a prison or graveyard than a loved home.
The finery, the weaves of the tribes of his people, the artifacts and art adorning the walls, the Vibranium in the walls practically thrumming with recognition of its chosen people - it all felt limp, fake, today.
The Americans were in the middle of replacing those their warriors had killed in their government - and all of them were running on what measure of Wakandan blood they'd promised the public. He could see no way forward, his project barely enough to save those closest to him.
Even his last pathetic gasp of hope was more of a failure than anything. It was admitting loss, admitting that he could do nothing for Wakanda, for its people. Those who'd all suffer while he and his made their escape.
He felt more and more like a coward, as he'd been called plenty as of late. What else could you call a prince who was abandoning his people, his heritage, saving only the few? His sister, his parents, Nakia….
Yet, he could not foresee another path, and he refused to let Shuri suffer for their mistakes.
His steps slowed down as he realized he'd not yet run into a single guard.
This far into the living quarters the Dora Milaje should have been plentiful.
Breaking out into a sprint, he rushed towards his parents living quarters, his heart beating wildly as he suddenly ran past an eviscerated guard, tossed aside like garbage, the pathway bloody and filled with the stench of the recently deceased.
No, no, NO! He screamed internally as he ran past two more fatalities, both women heavily burned and unrecognizable.
He broke through his Father's door, splintering wood across the room, as he skidded to a stop, his heart breaking at the sight before him. "No! FATHER, MOTHER, WHY!?" He cried out in anguish, tears running down his face as he charged at Killmonger, who was holding his dead father up, a burning hand inserted in his chest, his mother lying dead on the floor, a handprint burned into her face.
The smell of burning flesh suffused the room.
Killmonger cocked his head to the side, a teasing tilt to his lips, "Hey, cuz, you missed the party." He said flippantly, tossing the former king of Wakanda at T'Challa in a sudden show of strength.
T'Challa interrupted his rush, catching his father's body, sliding to a stop as he laid it down gently on the ground. His eyes were burning with hate, even as tears continued to run down his cheeks. "They were your family! He accepted you when I would not!" He screamed, trying to understand.
His parents were dead. T'Challa had not stopped Killmonger in time. He had failed. Again.
Bast! Why not me? Why let the failure continue on!?
Killmonger smirked, seemingly at perfect ease as he spoke up, "Yeah, in retrospect, not the smartest choice your dear old dad made, huh?"
"I'm going to KILL you!" T'Challa growled, closing his father's eyes, praying that he'd find some measure of peace with the ancestors.
Cutting off the head of his killer seemed a good start for that.
Killmonger tsked, tossing something in the air, a metallic device of some kind, "You know, I'll almost miss all of this." He said, pressing down on the device. "Except, nah." He chuckled.
T'Challa moved to rush him, when the entire palace shook in an almighty explosion. His face paled, as he stared at the cockily grinning murderer, "What did you do!?" He roared out, his heart thundering as he could hear screaming outside the Palace, an all encompassing cry from the people.
His eyes grew wide in disbelief as he looked out one of the windows, seeing the receding shield that had covered Wakanda, kept it safe. That's why I haven't heard any shells for the past few minutes… He realized.
The enemy had stopped their artillery, they knew!
Killmonger chuckled, tossing the detonator over his shoulder carelessly, still seemingly utterly relaxed, "Just blew your shield to kingdom come, cuz." His grin turned vicious, "There's so many people that want your head, I think I'll leave you alive to face justice, what do you say, King?"
"I will kill you…" T'Challa hissed out lowly, eyes almost glowing, as all he could see was red.
"Shield is confirmed down?" Justin asked, eyes intent on the screen as he typed in commands.
"It's confirmed, everyone's moving in, it's going to be a cluster fuck worse than anything the cold war ever threw at us, you mind? I'm kind of busy." Fury drawled sarcastically, before turning off the communications channel without waiting for confirmation.
Justin chuckled, "Fury, so full of charm…" He finished what he was doing, finger hovering over the enter key.
Flashback,
"So Erik Stevens? How was he?" Justin asked Domino casually.
Domino, lounging on the couch, stretched languidly like a cat, a smirk on her face, "Amazing, a veritable gift to women, wouldn't mind a rerun or twenty." She quipped.
Justin rolled his eyes, "I didn't ask about how he was in bed, Domino, what's your feeling about him?"
Giving her a vacation was well earned, but it didn't mean he wanted to know what fucking Killmonger got up to in bed.
Domino gave him a doubtful look, "Why are you asking me? You already know…"
Justin smirked, nodding, "I'm fairly certain yes, but getting a second opinion from someone I trust doesn't hurt…"
Domino looked slightly flattered, as she sat up straight on the couch, her expression more thoughtful, "He's very clever, and impossibly smooth, definitely not a follower, for all that he was masquerading as a soldier…"
Justin thought that fit his picture of the man perfectly, "Can he be trusted?" He asked, despite already knowing the answer.
Domino snorted, "He can be trusted to always look for an angle, sure." She said with surety.
Justin hummed thoughtfully, "I suppose it's a good thing I took precautions."
The poor man thought Hansen had given him a perfected Extremis, instead he'd gotten a version that slowly eroded.
By this point, his regeneration wouldn't be more than an ability to heal cuts.
Perfect for the implant in his head to take care of business if needed.
Justin eyed the program that held the only detonator to a man's brain, sliding his fingers over the keys.
Soon enough, Killmonger, he thought softly in his mind.
Too bad you're so untrustworthy, you could have been something…
Flashback end.
He pressed the enter key, sending the signal across the world to Wakanda.
"Sorry Erik, but some gifts shouldn't be taken at face value. They can be poisoned…"
Wakanda,
Before T'Challa could strike, Killmonger stumbled suddenly, raising a hand to his face, eyes shocked, as blood began pouring out of every orifice. His eyes met T'Challa's, agony and anger visible for only a second, "Hammer!" He managed to croak out in pure disbelief, getting out those last words, taking a step forward - before he seemed to lose control of his body, falling face first to the ground.
It was anticlimactic, and not at all satisfying to T'Challa, not enough to gain revenge on the traitor.
T'Challa hesitated before the body, unsure what was happening, and then suddenly Killmonger's head exploded like a melon that had taken a sledgehammer to it, blood and viscera showering him as he stared at the inexplicable moment, shocked and angry.
It finally clicked in his mind, through the haze of grief and anger.
Killmonger had been a disposable agent, completely unaware it seemed, someone had killed him from afar once the shield went down, even this outsider Wakandan was simply used by their enemies. Used and disposed of like trash!
Hammer… It all came back to Hammer. He was the reason for all of this…
He sent Killmonger.
He killed his country, his parents…
And now, he even stole T'Challa's revenge!
"Hammer…" He growled, sending one last glance at his parents, wishing he could do more, before he ran, heading for his sister.
They needed to leave.
Now!
…
Across the borders, NATO, SHIELD and various forces from neighboring African countries rushed in, ready to establish their own slice of the pie, and push out any latecomers.
It was a race, and therefore the forces pushed harder and further than what would be wise in traditional combat doctrines.
Of the Wakandans that got in the way…
No one had any time for them.
San Francisco, Pym technologies.
"Dad, what's the big rush?" Hope asked, with a hint of exasperation as she entered his office, having received no less than five phone calls and three emails to ensure she arrived.
He'd been more insufferable than ever lately. Hope would have thought that his genius being acknowledged across the world would have pleased him, but it only made him crankier.
They'd had to upgrade security tenfold due to the heightened threat profile, as everyone in the world realized the efficacy of Pym particles. Realized exactly what could be done with it.
She knew her father slept in his new and improved Ant Man suit nowadays, ensuring anyone trying to come for him would have a bad day.
She didn't go quite that far, but she regularly wore the Wasp suit under her clothes when out and about.
And of course there was the whole… Justin Hammer thing, and the superhero thing… Her dad had not been a fan of either of those developments.
She'd been so focused on her dad, sitting behind his desk with a pleased smile like the cat that got the canary, that she totally missed the other person in the room until he spoke up.
Then again, she generally tried to miss his presence while going around the building too.
"Hope, nice to see you again, radiant as always." Darren Cross said, a big grin on his face. He looked about as pleased as her dad did, except his grin was significantly dumber.
"Darren… What a surprise." Hope said, controlling her expression, turning towards her dad, "Dad… Mind explaining what's got you in such a good mood?" And why is your sleazy fanboy in here?
The only good thing about Darren Cross was that he'd normally spend all his time in the lab or sucking up to the board, so Hope didn't have to see him too much. What her father saw in that man she didn't know. He reminded her of a weasel, his smile at times too wide and too fake.
He was also very obviously into her. And saw her rejection as a cute game they were playing. Major skyscraper sized red flags right there.
Of course her dad disagreed, sometimes she wondered what on earth her mom could have ever seen in him.
"Hope, I've solved all our issues." Hank said smugly, gesturing to Darren, "Show her Darren."
Darren turned around and grabbed a helmet that had been behind him on the table.
Hope turned to her dad aghast, "You didn't!?"
Darren chuckled, fastening the Ant Man helmet onto his head, obviously wearing the suit under his clothes, "No need to sound so surprised Hope, my lovely, I'm practically family." With practiced ease, like he's been doing this for a while, he initialized the Pym particles in the suit, and shrunk down.
Hope turned stormy eyes on her dad again, not able to understand how he could sit there and look proud, after making such a fundamentally stupid decision. "You gave Darren Cross the Ant Man suit!?" She paused for a moment as Darren reappeared, at least he still had the old bulky type, not like Hope's where her helmet simply flowed on, due to her father's innovations in nanotech.
God, how could he ever think this was a good idea! She thought with disgust. Even if he didn't give him nanotech, he's literally handed Pym particles to this idiot, when he refused for so long to give even a tiny amount to Justin!
"Wait… How long have you had this?" She asked Darren suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.
"A few months, why?" Darren said, looking a bit put out that Hope wasn't more impressed, rubbing his arm like he was a child sent to the principal, feeling guilty but not knowing for what.
Foolish man, like she'd be impressed by a suit and power she'd seen her dad use frequently. That's just yuck, definitely not dating material, no matter how much he flashed cow eyes her way.
Hope turned to her father again, angry, practically spitting out, "What!? You made me beg for a year!"
Only the fact their threat profile had massively increased had led to him allowing her to have the Wasp suit, to wear it underneath her clothes everywhere she went to protect herself from potential kidnapping threats or worse. If that hadn't happened - she'd still be begging him for it! And Darren Cross got it in a few months!
Hank blanched, the pleased smile falling off his lips, "It isn't like that, Hope." He hurriedly tried to defend himself, "I gave it to him to protect you."
Hope straightened, a furious expression on her face, "I can protect myself, dad! And you what? Got me a superpowered bodyguard without even informing me?"
Sadly, she wasn't even surprised. This was very on brand for the great Hank Pym. She was angry though, very angry. "Did you not think for even a second that I should have a say in this?"
Darren was looking very uncomfortable now, and like he was wondering if he could shrink down again without being noticed. He also looked pathetically hurt, like Hope had crushed his dreams by not falling in love the moment she saw him in a matching suit.
Men!
Hank blustered a little, squirming in his seat, before as usual, stomping past all her thoughts and feelings to be Hank Pym about it, "Nevermind that, Hope! You've been running around with that nutjob Hammer, and now you're going to be part of some sort of superhero team! You didn't consult me on that, did you?" He said triumphantly.
Hope squashed the wish to throw something at him, she was better than that. "Who I spend time with is none of your business, dad! And the President asked me to join, and I have this suit for a reason! I couldn't say no to helping!"
Hank rose up, hands flat on the desk as his neck turned a furious red, "You have that suit because I gave it to you!" He spat out, eyes flashing behind his glasses. "It's for your protection, not so you can go seek danger!"
Hope couldn't believe what she was hearing, or she could… She just hadn't thought he'd be so pigheadedly obstinate with her. "So you should decide who I spend time with, what I wear, whether I change my career, whether I choose to serve my country?" She said dangerously quietly.
"Yes!" Hank yelled, before he seemed to realize what he was saying, "Wait, you know I don't mean it like that, Hope…" He said looking stricken.
Hope held her head high, "You made your meaning pretty clear, Mister Pym. Am I allowed to leave?" She asked coldly, bitterly.
She was after all just an employee at Pym technologies, and he was her boss and CEO.
"I think… Everyone should just take a deep breath, I've done a lot of Yoga and it's helped balance my chakras, I think you two could use some of that as well." Darren said with an easy grin, the fakeness practically exuding from him to Hope's eyes.
Hope ignored him completely, she was not even going to entertain the idea of this fool following her around as her bodyguard! And good luck getting Justin Hammer to accept him to the team, she was sure she could easily convince him to see it her way.
Her lips quirked just the tiniest bit, thinking Justin would probably go quite a bit further then just denying him a place if she told him her thoughts on the man. It felt nice to know someone had your back to such an extent. She eyed her boss angrily, unlike some people… She thought.
"I have work to do, may I be excused, sir?" She asked again, standing ramrod straight as she watched Hank Pym slump in his seat.
"We'll talk later… You'll understand, Hope." He said wearily.
Hope really doubted that. But she took the tacit agreement to leave, and walked out as soon as she could.
Screw work, she was getting absolutely shit faced.
On the company credit card.
She might as well buy a round or ten for everyone on the block as well…
Because fuck Hank Pym!
Madripoor, Violet Eye Brothel, same time.
Norman Osborn usually wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. So… Savage and uncouth.
The entire first floor seemed more like a debauched nightclub more than anything, cages hanging from the ceiling - women, men, boys and girls swaying to the music in various states of altered minds, prices displayed openly.
Life was cheap, not anything new to Norman.
Art was displayed in abundance, by a loose definition of the word - as the paintings invariably depicted people in flagrante, hardly worthy of the Louvre.
Well… Slap the right signature on the bottom, and it would get in, he supposed. He even employed a skilled forger just for the purpose of ruining the enjoyment of their art collections from his rivals.
He'd even hired the man from a place just like this in Madripoor, where everything and everyone was for sale.
The bar, the seating area and other various props and decorations were a mix of chrome and violet neon lights with splashes of graffiti here and there. Modern trash, he couldn't help but think of it.
The masses of apes that made up the lower class always found new ways to debase themselves…
It did have its charms though, he thought, as he brushed past several women only wearing glitter and bejeweled bits, serving drinks to the men and women who frequented the Violet Eye. Criminals and business men - not so different from each other after all.
And at least he didn't stand out too much in his finely tailored suit, the clientele being a mix of people such as he, down to filthy gangsters with gang tattoos proudly displayed.
A woman that was entirely colored in violet and purple skin with glowing pink eyes stepped up to him, her nails several inches long and appearing to be razor sharp with an almost metallic sheen, her toothy smile showcased equally razor sharp teeth. He was briefly interested in if the effect was due to the woman actually tattooing her entire body and filing her teeth, implanting the nails and such and wearing contact lenses - or if she was some kind of mutant. One took effort and commitment he could appreciate, the other he didn't care for. His eyes took in her entirely nude body, a voice somewhere cackling madly as he wondered if she'd bleed red, or purple.
He wasn't mad, it was the world that was insane, Norman seemed to be the only sane man left, the only one willing to make the hard choices.
"Monsieur Osborn, you're expected, I'm Madame Désordre, welcome to my Violet Eye." She said coolly, in an obviously french accent.
So obvious that he was almost positive it was all fake.
Norman raised an incredulous eyebrow at the knowledge she was the owner however, his bodyguards shuffling slightly in surprise behind him. The owner parading around like this was a shock - even though Norman had expected nothing but filth and damnation in this hellhole…
That said, for someone with a small measure of power - to debase themselves before clients and employees like this - he just couldn't understand these people. These weaklings.
Madame Désordre gave him a sardonic smirk, her eyes narrowing in cruel delight, "Ah, the great Norman Osborn is tongue-tied, yes?" She gestured with a toned muscled arm, her bust bouncing along with the action mesmerizingly, the woman showing no shame whatsoever, "The Violet Eye holds the desires of the world, which desire is it that you seek, hmm?"
Norman HATED her for a brief moment, CRUSH THAT SLUT! His ears ringing as his countenance darkened, as he took a step forward into Madame Désordre's personal space, "You can't possibly fathom my desires," He growled out almost bestialy. "You already know what I'm here for, don't play games with me!" His lips twisted into a snarl, as he almost spat at the woman.
Before his bodyguards could even react, two nails sharper and deadlier than most knives rested against his jugular, Madame Désordre studying him carefully, tapping his vein, "It's been some time since you've been in Madripoor, Monsieur Osborn…" She mused out loud.
His useless bodyguards raised their hands over their heads, as every man woman and child in the place somehow found themselves with a weapon in hand. Inevitably pointing it at them, more arriving on the balconies overlooking the first floor, turrets sliding out of the walls next to the entrance, whirring as they found them within their sights.
This was some achievement, as many of the employees were absolutely naked and hadn't had quick access to a weapon. He did find it quite amusing that the turrets were Oscorp branded too.
"How big your cock is outside in the other world doesn't matter here." She said wickedly, one of her fangs scratching up her lip, her long tongue idly licking up the blood, as she met his eyes. "Madripoor stands for Madripoor only, you can not come in here and try to push me around in my house!"
Norman cackled, eyes wild and alive as he pushed forward against the deadly weapons masquerading as nails that were held against his throat, Madame Désordre swiftly moving her hand back, a flicker of something uncertain appearing in her eyes, "Are you mad, Osborn? That would have killed you." She said bluntly.
Norman pushed forward yet another step, Madame Désordre having the choice to kill him, or to step back from him in front of everyone. Norman just knew somehow, something insistent singing in his veins, that he'd win this confrontation no matter what. "Is it mad? I see you backing up, little rabbit." He said viciously, a mad grin on his face as the proprietor of the Violet Eye stepped away from him fully, eying him warily.
She had lost. She was not as willing to kill someone of his stature as she'd postured. He glorified in her hate filled gaze. His dominance assured, just like that little voice in the back of his mind whispered.
"Kill the rest of them!" She spat out, acting like an angry toddler, lashing out. Gunfire briefly erupting after her words and managing to paint the mostly violet building red, Norman quite liked it. It was an improvement.
Not as nice as green, but red had its own charm.
His men had been caught completely unprepared, having visibly kept hands away from their weapons in the face of overwhelming firepower. The flashes of bullets fired from all directions and the screams they elicited as they mowed down his men like wheat, made Norman feel alive in a way he hadn't in over a decade, something within him stirring in lust.
He eyed the dead and dying bodyguards impassively, hiding his arousal over the scene. Having seen Madame Désordre back down before him once already, he wasn't worried. And he'd just hire some of this rabble for when he needed to leave. "You've saved me the bother of paying them for services rendered, I suppose your little club does have its uses." He grumbled, sneering at her, "Now take me to my meeting, you were hired to facilitate this were you not?"
Madame Désordre twitched irritably, "Clean this filth up!" She snapped to her people, fingers twitching as she slit the throat of a boy walking past her with a tray of long necked drinks, "Get out of my way!" She snarled, walking away towards a doorway in the back, guarded by several armed men with military quality weaponry.
Norman looked down at the rapidly spreading pool of blood from the collapsed server boy, laughing quietly to himself, now… Now the woman was somewhat attractive to him…
He followed her lackadaisically, in no particular rush now, because he knew it would annoy the woman - now that her little power play had so miserably failed.
He was led through two corridors, before Madame Désordre stopped by a large door, again guarded by burly military grade style types. "He's in there." She said shortly, crossing her arms under her bust, giving him a hateful stare.
Norman simply chuckled at her, patting her on the cheek, not even caring about the three cuts he received to his hand as she slapped it away, they were only skin deep anyway, she'd held back, scaredy cat…. "Everything is for sale, you said… Don't go anywhere, consider yourself bought for the evening." He ordered cruelly, delighting in the absolute loathing she directed his way.
He knew her type now, the kind of criminal that would sell even their grandmother with a smile, in parts, piecing her out herself. She'd hate him for every moment, but she'd take his money. He couldn't care less about the sex, but putting her in her place… Oh yes, it would be worth the no doubt exorbitant fee.
He entered, plastering on a regular smile, "Ulysses Klaue, you're a hard man to get a hold of nowadays…"
Klaue, dressed in some kind of ridiculous fake military outfit with so many medals on it that it could sink a ship, grinned widely, leaning back against a violet and circuitous couch, "Well if it isn't Norman Osborn, howdya manage to sucker the military into buying your crap ahead of my mate Justin, huh?"
Norman had known the man was annoying, but to open with that, he was beginning to think his sources had undersold it.
"Superior abilities and product." Norman said, feeling a spike of anger at the assertion that his superior products were inferior to Hammer. "I was under the impression you had accepted this meeting with the intent to do business?" He didn't bother to sit down, having some serious doubts on the cleanliness of any private room in this locale.
Klaue grinned happily, "Maybe I just wanted to have you fly all the way over here, all worked up for nothing, eh?" Before letting loose a loud guffaw, slapping his knee in an absurd showing of some kind of slapstick humor, while Norman twitched and stood there, growing increasingly angrier.
This cretin isn't taking me seriously!
"You may have come across a bit of luck with current world events, Klaue, but I would not be taking this so humorously." Norman warned, not letting his anger and disgust show on his face. Trailer trash weapons dealer, you're nothing but refuse swimming with sharks, Klaue…
Klaue stopped laughing, leaning forward slightly, one hand stroking his beard, his fingers each adorned by a gaudy ring. "Like in everything else, Osborn, you're beneath Justin Hammer, even in the threats department." He chuckled, tapping his knuckles against the low wooden table in front of him, "My mate had this look in his eyes like he wanted to dissect me at times, really had me over the barrel once too, but he needed me too much to ever pull the trigger." His eyes glinted with malice and greed as he smacked his lips loudly, blowing Norman a kiss, "Just like you're here cuz you need me, eh?"
What patience Norman still held, snapped, and between one moment and the next, he was holding Klaue up in the air, a manic grin on his face as Klaue kicked fruitlessly against him, his eyes wide. "Well then, Klaue, there's the difference between Hammer and me!" He cackled, his grin spreading wider, encompassing his entire jaw, his eyes almost popping out of his face as he held Klaue up in the air without a hint of effort. "I have a hair trigger! Sometimes I don't even realize I've pulled the trigger until there's a big mess everywhere…"
As he cackled, he thought he could hear more cackling from everywhere around him, only making him want to do it more, even as Klaue was turning blue, slapping his arm, trying desperately to tap out. "You know more about Wakanda than you're saying, I want that info, I want to know where the juiciest pieces are, so that when the shield falls, I'll get the best slice of the pie, and you will tell me, won't you?"
He lowered the man's face, so that they were eye to eye, enjoying the panic he saw in the other man's eyes as his air was beginning to run out.
"What say you, Klaue? Who's scarier now?" He hissed out, seeing his own approving and grinning face in the reflection of Klaue's eyes.
Hammer industries private jet, with Elena.
As Justin was making himself comfortable in the chair of secrecy - as she liked to call it - Elena settled down on the couch, laptop on her knees as she thought over things.
Maybe it was odd for a spy and assassin to enjoy being a personal assistant, but she honestly had never felt more powerful than she felt now.
Instead of guns, knives and wire, she wielded the pen, phone and laptop. And she held in her hands more power than some leaders of developed countries.
The amount of trust and power Justin gave to his inner circle - once you got in - was mind boggling. It was no wonder Sunil had abandoned HYDRA immediately, the right hand of Hammer could practically decide which country lived or died.
How many HYDRA goons could say the same?
Sunil had been found out immediately however… While Elena was still keeping a big secret. And everyday she wondered if they all knew, and just kept quiet, trusted her anyway.
Or if she was going to be put in the deepest hole on earth once she came clean.
She didn't think Justin would do that, because she'd proved her loyalty over and over again, but it would still amount to a betrayal of trust, and she felt a pang inside her at the idea of Justin no longer trusting her.
Which made it all the harder to come clean and tell him who she really was and why she was initially sent here…
She still sent falsified reports back from time to time, pretending she was still doing her job, that she was still a good little black widow. Luckily enough she hadn't received any other orders than to keep close and gather information. Not that she sent back true information anyway.
If the order came down to kill…
She'd have to come clean immediately, before more Black Widow's arrived, this time to take her out, for refusing orders.
After Wakanda is taken down, things will calm down, I'll tell him then. She decided, glancing over at the chair, privacy screens already up and limiting her view of Justin.
She bit her lip, her sister would so make fun of her for developing feelings for a target if she heard about it…
She snorted amusedly, then again, Nat had her own run in with Justin, as she'd found out.
She'd refused to watch the whole video on principle, because sister. But she was very amused at how completely played her sister had been, the feared Black Widow™ fooled completely and dancing to the tune of Justin's skilled fingers. She blushed slightly, and the fact he outmaneuvered one of the best spies in the world is totally attractive too…
She was still slightly pissed because on one hand, he'd embarrassed her sister. On the other, it was funny, and gave her some much needed ammunition against her big sister.
Who's the best widow now, Natasha?
She tapped her lip with a finger, frowning in thought, it will make Christmas dinners slightly awkward though I suppose.
She glanced at Justin again, I was totally better than her too, right? Is it okay to ask? Or is that creepy?
She could literally feel her cheeks flaming up, so she dropped that line of thought, and focused on her laptop.
They had over a hundred Metahumans who'd applied - they all needed comprehensive psych profiles and background checks done before they could trust their application to be genuine.
Sunil was busy with the revitalization of Africa, so it came to her to arrange everything. Her eyes narrowed as she came upon a name she knew from her Black Widow days.
A mutant that definitely could not be trusted, one who had assisted Dreykov before.
And for this kind of scum, she was perfectly comfortable using Mutant instead of Metahuman.
It was a conundrum however… If Dreykov knew somehow that she had any say on these applications, her turning them down would signal that she was no longer mind controlled - while her not having reported that she had that much power, would signal it as well.
But if she said yes, she'd be inviting a snake into the company to do damage, someone she knew to be a sociopath.
Denied, she clicked, putting a red flag on the application to ensure there was no doubt about the unviability of his application.
She'd made her bed, and once Justin accepted her apologies for keeping it secret for so long.
She'd deliver him an army of sexy Black Widow secretaries to do his bidding!
Hammer industries private jet, With Justin.
Justin was still in the World Security Council chair, eyes closed as he listened to the communication as SHIELD tried to organize and herd the over a dozen different militaries that were rushing into Wakanda at top speed.
They took losses of course, as the Wakandan super soldiers had been close to the border, and suicidically threw themselves at the foreign invaders in a vain attempt to slow them down.
Except they weren't facing stationary artillery targets now, sneaking around in the night in hit and run tactics.
Facing a mobile highly trained and flexible attacking force, the Wakandan super soldiers found themselves flanked and pinned in short order, taking dozens of men down with them for each one, but all being brought down.
All faithfully reported over channels, SHIELD sorting through it all, allowing Justin to take it all in, keeping an eye on Fury through it all, half believing the spy of spies would pull something.
His eyes opened as someone screamed over the channel, "Launch detected!" Complete silence descending for but a millisecond, before everyone began hustling.
"Where goddamnit!?" Fury's voice came over the line as Justin grabbed the chair tightly with his hands, no, not fucking again! He thought, stop playing with nukes you fucking morons!
"Satellite's detected it… African east coast, outside Somalia. It's the Iliad!" The operator's voice yelled out, sounding defeated.
"Motherfucker, get everyone out! Every damn man and woman with a goddamn radio, cellphone or loud voice get a hold of them and get those men out!" Fury roared, the channels exploding with chatter.
NATO had just entered the country, the Americans and Africans both already rushed in way ahead of them, albeit from different vectors, both now far enough inside a quick retreat was likely impossible in time.
Justin closed his eyes, feeling sick.
There were not enough assets for taking down a ballistic missile in eastern Africa. The American aircraft carriers were in the Mediterranean, and wouldn't be able to respond in time, the Iliad had popped up too close to Wakanda.
He could still hope that Wakanda had a missile defense. C'mon you advanced bastards, missile defense is nothing, tell me you've got it, he thought.
He had no idea if a nuclear strike would affect the Vibranium, but if Wakanda was wiped off the map, it was going to be a prelude to a lot of world issues as every nation began to prepare for escalation, watching each other anxiously.
Wondering if one of them was truly behind it all in an attempt to stop the others.
Time ticked down, the cacophony of noise ignored by Justin as he waited. He had changed the world.
If Wakanda was wiped out in nuclear fire…
It was he that had done it.
"Wakandan response in the air!" Someone spoke over the noise in the channel to say, everyone else quieting down, "Birds approaching, they won't make it in time, missiles launching from all over Wakanda, they're giving it everything they've got!"
Silence, utter silence, as everyone waited.
"Missile destroyed!" Was finally reported.
Across the world, a sigh of relief was let loose amongst the intelligence and military community.
Justin's was likely the biggest.
"R-report in from the US embassy in Moscow, the Russians have told them they've lost contact with one of their nuclear submarines, want us to know any action isn't from them." A shaky sounding operator spoke over the channel.
The palpable relief present just seconds ago, disappeared in a rush of fear and paranoia.
"How long ago!?" Fury barked, sounding disturbed - speaking up after a moment of sheer disbelief, one shared by Justin as he listened in.
Because you have got to be kidding me right now?
"Thirty minutes sir!"
"Took their sweet time…" Fury cursed, "Last known location?"
"... The coast of Saudi Arabia."
Which is not that far away from Wakanda… Justin thought, gnawing on a nail, who the fuck is doing this!?
And why the fuck do the Russians have a sub there in the first place.
"China has reached out, they've.. A-also lost contact with one of their nuclear submarines, thirty one minutes ago." Another operator said quietly, but everyone heard, "The Chinese called the American ambassador and they've just passed it along to us up the chain."
"What?" Fury asked flatly.
"Sir! Just in from the Pentagon, they lost contact with USS Kentucky and USS Nebraska, fifteen minutes ago!" Came the cry from yet another operator.
Justin felt real fear, this just couldn't be happening!
In the comics and movies no one just went and stole nuclear weapons! It wasn't done!
"Launch detected!"
"Two launches detected off the west coast of Africa!"
"Launch detected off the coast of Saudi Arabia!"
The chatter died down, NATO and US forces were already scrambling jets, a last ditch attempt to shoot down the ballistic missiles heading for Wakanda.
No one believed Wakanda had the defenses capable of stopping this after that last gasp salvo - the forces already inside Wakandan soil, would not make it out on time.
All they could do was sit and wait.
Bearing silent witness.
Wakanda,
T'Challa loaded the last of the people he could afford to take onboard sans one last one, feeling melancholy, and a deep sense of anger.
He'd recognized the activation of their last gasp missile defense, something that would only be happening if the westerners were planning on bombing them into oblivion.
He only needed the last person to board, and they would at least save something from Wakanda.
"Okoye, it's time." He said, watching the woman standing by the flight platform, staring into the distance, towards the mountains.
"No, my place is in Wakanda, I was born here…" Okoye turned to him, her eyes wet, but her face full of determination, "And I'll die here, taking as many of these monsters down with me as I can."
"Okoye… Please, I need you onboard." T'Challa begged, not wanting to lose another person close to him.
She smiled softly at him, "You do not need me, my king." She stepped up to him, hands on his shoulders as she leaned her forehead against his, "You are everything a Wakandan should be, go, save what you can."
"Wakanda forever…" T'Challa said sadly, looking around, taking one last look at it all, Wakanda, Okoye, his home.
"Wakanda forever!" Okoye snapped out, crossing her arms across her chest.
T'Challa stepped onboard, the ship he'd had his people work on day and night taking off into the air.
Okoye looked at it until it disappeared completely into the sky.
She was ready to die, to fight these westerners, to kill. She'd show them the swansong of Wakanda, and they'd sing songs of their last defense for eternity.
She was tossed off her feet suddenly, as a sound unlike anything she'd ever heard erupted all around her, the noise alone tossing her.
From her prone position, she could see the mushroom cloud, and the ever closing devouring trail of smoke, fire and debris heading her way, ruining everything in its path.
"COWARDS!" She shouted as nuclear fire wiped everything away.
Wakanda's last song never sung.
Time ticked by, even Fury not barking orders as they waited for the results, hopelessly praying for a miracle.
Even Justin had nothing this time. Anything short of Magneto vacationing in Wakanda right now would fail to have any significant effect.
One broken voice came over the channel, "One bogey down… Three hits…"
Justin disconnected, feeling sick.
Wakanda just took three nuclear strikes.
Three!
He'd changed something. Something for the worse.
Someone out there had done everything in their power to wipe out Wakanda.
And they'd succeeded.
High above Wakanda, in orbit.
T'Challa couldn't believe it.
Not in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that their enemies would go that far.
The shield was down, they were practically defenseless, their other defenses gradually having been decommissioned over the years as the reliability of their shield and anonymity - led to it being considered a waste of funds to maintain.
With the help of Wakanda's best scientists, he'd succeeded in transforming the corpses of several of their warships, into one larger ship to transport as many of his people as he could cram in over the last few months.
Originally intended for his parents, Shuri and Nakia, to escape the murderous westerners who'd no doubt kill them all for being associated with Wakanda's ruling family. It was now holding over three dozen other Wakandan's.
Shuri stood by his side, staring down at the sight of Wakanda's death, her lip wobbling as she tried to be brave.
Tried not to cry. To show herself as a proud Wakandan warrior - like Okoye.
Okoye… Robbed of your last stand…
T'Challa laid a hand on Shuri's head, speaking softly, his voice hoarse from all the screaming and crying he'd done so far, "Cry, Shuri, let it out, there is no shame here, cry for our people, our land, for our family, our friends. No warrior has dry eyes today, sister."
His own were red, tears streaking down his face, even as his heart burned with everburning hatred.
They would traverse space, their experimental ship hopefully enough to get them to somewhere habitable.
Then, someday, even if he had to wait until he was ancient…
They would pay!
All of them!
Justin Hammer!
New York, Hilton Hotel, next day.
Justin wanted to tear his hair out, as he tossed his phone onto the couch, holding back a scream of frustration. The President's hands were tied up right now, he couldn't do anything no matter what Justin threatened.
The World Security Council's moronic assertion that Magneto was behind this all, was going to screw up everything he was doing.
If anything, the addition of several nuclear subs going out of contact at the same time, and launching their payload against Wakanda - pointed away from Magneto.
He was one powerful bastard, but controlling the Iliad and several submarines from opposite ends of the continent at the same time, might be too much even for him.
And he hated that comic book shenanigans forced him to have to add the might, onto there. Because he possibly was that powerful.
Magneto would have to respond if the world shoveled this crap onto his shoulders. Which would only worsen the situation. Which was why he was doing everything in his power to get the leaders of the world to reject any overreaction to the Council's moronic assertion.
"At least it can't get any worse than it is right now…" He muttered, the intelligence agencies and government brass had no intention of publicly calling out Magneto at this time. Which gave him time to work something out.
The situation was still manageable, if not at an ideal state.
He really hoped the Vibranium mines were fine, or the world governments were going to throw even more of a hissy fit.
The fact Wakanda was practically wiped out, wasn't very high on anyone's concern, only the consequences thereof.
At least amongst the powerful in the world.
Justin wondered briefly who would actually want to wipe them out, or limit access to Vibranium. Surely even the Mandarin or any other villain would want the miracle metal around…
Africa was already bracing itself for what may come their way as winds picked up, and he couldn't imagine who'd risk so much, risk total nuclear war for this.
Only the fact that all the major nations involved had actually communicated beforehand had kept things steady, none of the major powers adding to the horror show by adding their own fire.
The Iliad and the submarines had all apparently been sunk, their purpose spent.
He'd have to look into it as a matter of course, but first he needed to clean up this whole situation, before it boiled over into his Metahumans project. As crass as it was to say, even as sick as he felt over it all, life moved on, and he couldn't stop.
He knew he'd have nightmares from this… Probably would have already if he'd at all managed to sleep since.
Wordlessly Elena gestured to the TV, drawing his attention, so Justin stomped over, and raised the volume. It was a live press conference on CNN. Some newly elected congressman he had never heard of, the names tended to blend together when several hundred of them were being elected at the same time.
He felt he should have remembered this name however, because how often was a little person elected to Congress?
He looked a little like Peter Dinklage if he squinted, and he wondered why Elena wanted him to watch some rookie congressman shoot his mouth.
On the screen, the tiny severe figure of Bolivar Trask was seen, (name shown on the screen) microphones shoved into his face as he held a fiery speech, eyes almost feverish, "- this is absolute proof that Hammer's whitewashing of these mutants is absolutely ridiculous, Magneto is the number one suspect for this heinous attack, a mutant capable of controlling several nuclear missiles at a time with the ease you and me have carrying a bag of groceries to the car."
How the fuck does he have that information! The President of the United fucking States didn't know Magneto was a suspect until I fucking told him what the Security Council believed and tried to get him on my side of things… Justin immediately resolved to put this Trask midget, high up on his to do list.
The reporters all shouted out questions, eager for more of the controversy that would erupt from the words of the newly elected congressman. Trask ignored them all, staring deeply into the camera, speaking to the American people in living rooms across America, "Make no mistake, mutants are not our friends, they are here, amongst us, hiding, waiting to strike. They're able to kill us at a glance, read and steal our minds, make us into vegetables - or in the case of the real monsters, like Magneto, capable of annihilating civilization." Trask said chillingly, his absolute surety in what he was saying resonating through the airwaves.
"Pay some mutants to do charity in Africa if you wish, Justin Hammer, try and change their names to something more PR friendly, it will avail you nothing." Trask voice rose in a crescendo as he continued, "They will turn on you, they will turn on us all, because they're not like us, and they are capable of completely wiping humanity off the face of the earth, we can no longer let it be, not after last night's display, the earth itself and all of humanity counts on us to ACT NOW!"
Justin stared at the TV screen, a complicated expression on his face.
"Shit." He said succinctly.
Author's note:
Justin: I very clever, stop Killmonger from stabbing in back!"
T'Challa: HAMMER! I will go to the ends of the solar system to mount your head on a pike!
Oops?
Oh well shit happens, you can't change the world without breaking a couple countries I guess.
Yelena has been a Black Widow for a long time, so her views aren't exactly the same as a normal person - seduction is a matter of fact thing, so she's slightly pissed, but mostly amused at the whole Natashalie failed seduction and its consequences.
Again I don't know business and politics nor claim to do so, take everything in this chapter and ongoing ones as made up because it sounds okay - not gospel or real world stuff.
Also you didn't really think the mutant issue was going to go smoothly now?
Cheers
It's pretty obvious that Bolivar Trask was behind those sudden nuclear strikes on Wakanda so that Magneto will be framed (unless you go with Magneto originally intending to do that in his debut appearance from X-Men The Animated Series) and he would stoke a lot of the anti-mutant rhetoric after that.
And it fits that a very small angry man can cast a large shadow of doubt and fear.
I don't think he'll bang his widows after what happened with his crazy employees.
The sub could be Bastion, Nimrod, Skrull, Thanos.There's a lot of people that don't want humans to advance.
Also how does this work if Peter is Trask? What about the dwarf king?
Does Justin really think he's changed things for the worse? He shoukd know that this mixed universe is going to go vastly different due to the combination of different film properties.
The sub could be Bastion, Nimrod, Skrull, Thanos.There's a lot of people that don't want humans to advance.
Trask probably got his information from the president. He didn't do it, at this point he still needs funding.
Also how does this work if Peter is Trask? What about the dwarf king?
Does Justin really think he's changed things for the worse? He shoukd know that this mixed universe is going to go vastly different due to the combination of different film properties.
Fair enough, that information was sufficient for Trask to push forward his anti-mutant campaign and take advantage of the situation that went out of hand.
If Trask and the Dwarf King meet, they'd do the Spider-Man Pointing Each Other pose, lol.
I'm more surprised TVA hadn't already shown up or Ancient One paying a visit. Unless this story was set after the events of Loki tv show where the Sacred Timeline is broken and then eventually reformed into the Yggdrasil Timeline by Loki who sits alone at the throne and kept it together.
No TVA in this story, I'm not inviting time travel and timelines and shit into this.
As for the ancient one , he's not causing an incursion or demons or anything on her side of the field. So she isn't getting involved, Strange is still becoming a wizard, even earlier now, so she's got nothing to complain about.
If anything butterflies will now let her live...
You read a Justin Hammer SI mixed memories villain fic where from the beginning he was an asshole of epic proportions and you continued reading it all to just now say it's what for no reason? It's his personality not for no reason...
All other MCU stories basically have ridiculous power ups and finds the stones does super Saiyan type power ups, and you say this story in particular is only plot armor, like someone curing cancer and delivering clean energy, having Extremis and Super powered bodyguards is wrong to have survived so far?
I mean if Magneto, Thor, Thanos etc tried to kill him he'd be dead.
But no one that powerful has a reason to because he's gathered tremendous soft power to make it so they don't want to. Is that plot armor like? Or just plot?
I guess that even with the introduction of new Hammer medical technology and healing, Doctor Strange will still suffer the damage of his hands or not, which is similar with Strange Supreme who didn't lose his hands but Christine from What If animated show, and go on the path to become a mage of Kamar-Taj.
- Location
- The Internet?
C'mon gang, think. Who would be willing to blow up a massive hoard of Vibranium, without caring that they wouldn't get any?
Someone that already had it.
Who could launch coordinated stealth takedowns of stealth subs and a stealth hellicarrier... that was parked in the water?
People that don't need boats to get to the access hatches.
They're not even on Hammer's radar, but something tells me they're waiting for him, down where it's wetter, take it from me.
There's Atlantians down there, under the sea.
Didn't even think of them doing something easily. Also no time travel so Ninrod, and Bastion out of the running.
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