A flash of steel cut through the air, aimed directly at Tony's throat. The attacker was Dax, his movements a blur of lethal intent.
Before the blade could connect, another knife appeared in Dax's hand as he faced the uninvited guest who had just appeared behind him.
To his left and right stood two imposing figures: the Man with the Tattoo and the Razor Man, whose right fist was replaced by a gleaming, razor-sharp blade.
Their master sat in the very chair the Mandarin used for his broadcasts. A metal ring flew through the air, fitting itself seamlessly onto his arm. He watched the scene unfold with the calm, leisurely air of a king observing a court squabble.
Wenwu.
Three sides had converged. The manor was suddenly, unusually, lively.
Dax sized up Wenwu first, then turned his sharp gaze back to Tony. "Who are you?"
"Good question. I was about to ask the same thing," Tony quipped, his mind racing. "Who are you?"
The Razor Man scoffed impatiently. "Let me ask a better question. Who are you two?"
The Man with the Tattoo shot the Razor Man a look, one that clearly conveyed concern for a colleague who wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
Dax's focus, however, remained on Wenwu, his apprehension clear. Though the disarming move had been a surprise, Dax, even enhanced by his new Super Spine, knew he had been outmatched in sheer strength.
"Tony Stark," Wenwu said, his voice even. It was a statement, not a question.
They were, in a way, old acquaintances. It was not a particularly fond acquaintance. Tony's kidnapping by the Ten Rings had, after all, been under Wenwu's ultimate authority.
"You don't know me, but there's no need to be nervous," Wenwu said, the regal bearing of a dynastic lord evident in his tone. He offered a faint smile. "I have no interest in you or the Avengers."
"My target is him."
Wenwu pointed. All eyes shifted.
The Mandarin stumbled out of the bathroom, clad only in his underwear, completely devoid of the sinister aura he projected on television. In fact, his startled expression was more like that of a stray dog that had wandered into a wolf pack. It was almost comical.
Seeing this, Dax sneered. "Why should I give him to you?"
He was here on John's orders, and he showed no deference. He pointed his knife at the so-called Mandarin. "He is my target."
Tony wisely used the opportunity to sidle away from Dax, creating some distance.
"Funny, I'm looking for him too," Tony chimed in, trying to diffuse the tension. "Shall we play rock-paper-scissors to decide?"
The clash of objectives seemed to amuse Wenwu.
"This clown," he began, "is impersonating me and using the name of my organization."
"Insulting the Ten Rings requires a price."
"Wait!" Tony held up a hand, a flicker of understanding dawning. "Ten Rings? You mean, the Ten Rings?"
Dax also looked at Wenwu, his posture tense.
Wenwu smiled slightly. "Yes."
"Impersonating?" Dax glanced at the terrified actor, who was trying to crawl away. Dax casually flicked a throwing knife, pinning the man's foot to the floor.
Trevor Slattery, the man bearing the name of the Mandarin, immediately scrambled back into his corner. When three predators fight, a small actor knows better than to get in the way.
"No, no, no," Tony shook his head, pointing at Trevor. "So if you're the Ten Rings, who is he?"
"Him?" Wenwu glanced over. "A foolish actor."
"My name is Trevor Slattery," the man in the corner squeaked, raising his hand slightly.
Tony's head was spinning. Dax just sneered, "It doesn't matter. He just needs to die."
He drew another throwing knife, ready to end it. The blade flew.
A metal ring shot from Wenwu's arm, intercepting the knife mid-air and knocking it harmlessly into the wall.
Dax looked at Wenwu, his eyes burning with fury.
Wenwu said calmly, "I promised John I would make this actor dance in front of him."
"Wait, you said John?"
Tony seized on another key point. He stared at Wenwu. "The John you mentioned... who is he?"
Dax also paused, his full attention now on Wenwu.
Wenwu stood up calmly. "My friend, John Wick."
The entire atmosphere in the room shifted.
Dax, who had been seconds from killing, lowered his weapon. Tony, who was full of questions, fell silent.
Holy crap, thought Tony, he's one of us! Unreliable as John was, he was still, by some loose definition, an ally.
Dax, on the other hand, wondered if his boss had sent another player into the field.
Wenwu glanced between the two, likely the only one in the room who understood the full picture.
"If it's for John, you can take him," Tony said, deciding that being the one without superpowers or a weapon meant he had to be pragmatic. He was under someone else's roof. Besides, that kid with the knife could literally slice bullets in half.
Tony gestured to Trevor. "I just need to get some information from him first."
Wenwu looked at Tony with amusement. "And why should I listen to you?"
"Consider it a favor for John," Tony said, hating that he had to use someone else's name for leverage. "I don't think he'd mind."
Wenwu might not give the President of the United States the time of day, but for John, it was a different matter entirely. His own son was, after all, growing up healthy under John's watch.
Wenwu turned his gaze to Dax. "Young man, what will you do?"
To a man over a thousand years old, almost everyone was a young man.
"I'm here to kill the Mandarin, not some actor." Dax stood aside, his stance neutral.
Wenwu nodded. "You have half an hour."
Tony had just breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Dax walk out.
"I'm going to kill the real Mandarin."
...
Killian stood over the captured Iron Patriot armor. His subordinates were trying everything—angle grinders, saws—but couldn't even scratch the top-grade metal.
Killian sneered. "This can will make very good cooking equipment."
He took off his jacket and placed a hand on the armor's chest plate. Having been injected with a more perfected version of the Extremis Virus, he had a far better method.
"You'll come out. No need to rush."
The armor began to glow red-hot. Inside, Rhodes was sweating profusely, feeling like he was being stewed alive. He couldn't hold on.
He burst the armor open and leaped out, swinging a punch at Killian. It connected, but Killian didn't even flinch. Instead, he opened his mouth and breathed a gout of fire, stunning Rhodes completely.
"You can breathe fire?"
Before Rhodes could recover, one of Killian's soldiers knocked him unconscious. With the armor secured, Killian strode away, ready to put his plan to kidnap the President into action.
Just as he boarded his plane, Dax appeared, dispatching a guard with silent efficiency.
Wenwu watched him, a hint of appreciation in his eyes. "How about you follow me?" he offered, seeing a natural-born killer.
Dax's reply was cold. "I only work for one person."
Wenwu made no comment. At his side, the Razor Man extended a superheated blade from his fist, killing a guard who had managed to fire a shot. They searched the area but found no sign of Killian.
They did, however, find Rhodes.
Rhodes woke up groggily to the sight of the Man with the Tattoo's face, his first thought being that he'd been captured and sold overseas.
By the time Tony had gotten the answers he needed from Trevor, he finally understood that Killian—the man he'd slighted on a rooftop thirteen years ago—was the mastermind. Just as he was about to act, his watch beeped. Mark 42 was fully charged.
He rubbed his hands excitedly and struck a pose, summoning his armor. Nothing happened. He tried again.
Trevor couldn't help but ask, "Uh, are you performing some kind of ritual?"
"Shut up!" Tony snapped, furious and embarrassed. After another agonizing minute, the armor finally arrived. Piece by piece, it assembled around his body, and with it, his confidence surged. He was going to smash Killian's head in.
Just as he was about to take off, Rhodes walked in. It was a strange reunion.
Wenwu's half-hour was up. The Razor Man grabbed Trevor like a sack of potatoes and prepared to leave.
Rhodes quickly learned that Killian's next target was the President.
"Don't worry, we still have companions," Tony said, just as he watched Wenwu's plane take off and disappear into the night.
Rhodes deadpanned, "Your companions? I have friends with benefits who are more loyal than them."
"Uh... actually, I'm not that familiar with him."
Dax was gone too, having already left to report back to John.
Tony and Rhodes were left looking at each other in the trashed manor.
A dignified President of the United States was about to be kidnapped, and apparently, no one else cared. It had to be said, John's friends were a lot like John himself.
They had absolutely no regard for America.
(End of Chapter)
***
(End of Chapter)
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