The spacecraft wing debris was quietly transported to Stark Industrial Park, and Marcus took advantage of the opportunity to hitch a ride to this location—a place destined to become world-famous in the future.
"So this is Stark Industries," Marcus observed, gazing at the sprawling complex. "I think Howard won't mind a little business proposition."
Originally, he had planned to resume his mercenary career, but after encountering Howard Stark, a new idea had formed.
He would trade Kree technology with Howard, betting that the elderly super-scientist would find alien tech irresistible.
Following Howard through the facility, Marcus observed precision instruments filling every corner of the laboratory. At the center stood the massive wing fragment.
"No," Howard said, examining the analysis data. "This isn't debris from any fighter jet."
The Pegasus Project had been established by S.H.I.E.L.D., and as one of its founding advocates, Howard knew secrets even the organization itself wasn't privy to.
"Of course it's not a fighter jet," Marcus declared, materializing atop the research table. "It's part of a spacecraft."
Howard startled at Marcus's sudden appearance. He eyed the combat-suited stranger warily.
"Whoa, easy there!" Marcus raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not here to cause trouble."
"Hmm. Good people don't typically wear tactical gear and appear unannounced in my research facility," Howard replied dryly. Sensing no immediate threat, he continued, "Who are you? Why are you here? And how do you know this is spacecraft wreckage?"
"That's quite a few questions for a man your age," Marcus quipped, jumping down from the table. "Let me introduce myself—Marcus is the name. Former mercenary by trade. As for why I'm here... I'd like to propose a deal."
A deal?
Howard wondered what kind of arrangement this self-proclaimed mercenary could possibly offer.
Setting aside his tools, Howard focused his full attention on Marcus, curious about what he might be proposing.
"About this wreckage—I'm the one who shot it down. I was aiming to destroy the entire spacecraft, but I overestimated my capabilities..."
Marcus embellished the earlier events, crafting an alternative narrative. He explained how Carol had detonated the plane engine, and how he'd used alien technology to damage the spacecraft that had captured her, managing to blast off one wing before it escaped.
Listening to Marcus's fantastic tale, Howard regarded him skeptically.
"You expect me to believe this?"
"To be fair, if someone told me the same story, I'd be dubious too," Marcus shrugged with a grin. "But I think you'll find this convincing."
He handed Howard a universal translator from the second Kree combat suit.
"This is a Kree universal translator. Incidentally, Dr. Lawson was also an alien. Her real name was Mar-Vell."
Howard froze. Among the many secrets he kept, Dr. Lawson's true identity was indeed one of them.
Taking the translator, Howard's skepticism began to dissolve. Perhaps Marcus was telling the truth after all.
Examining the device closely, Howard found himself captivated by its sophisticated design. The green crystal functioning as its core particularly intrigued him, further validating Marcus's claims.
"This isn't Earth technology. We're at least fifty years from achieving anything like this."
"So, convinced now?" Marcus asked, perching once more on the research table.
"While it stretches credibility, I've encountered stranger things. What you're saying is... plausible," Howard conceded, setting the translator aside. "Now, about this deal you mentioned?"
"Of course!" Marcus raised his eyebrows. "I've acquired various pieces of Kree technology. Thought you might be interested."
Kree technology?
This certainly piqued Howard's interest. He had numerous inventions languishing in development stages, constrained by current technological limitations.
Perhaps Kree technology could help advance his own work. As for how Marcus had acquired this knowledge—that was his business, and Howard knew better than to pry unnecessarily.
"What do you want in exchange?"
"Legal identity, a farm, and substantial financial compensation."
"Identity and money are straightforward enough, but why a farm?"
Howard gave Marcus a quizzical look. Why would a mercenary suddenly desire an agricultural lifestyle?
"Is there something wrong with appreciating rural living?" Marcus countered casually.
Fair point!
This arrangement would actually be ideal—Howard could visit Marcus whenever he wanted to discuss additional technology. To others, it would seem perfectly normal.
Given his diverse interests, suddenly developing an affinity for country living wouldn't raise eyebrows.
"Very well. I hope this marks the beginning of a fruitful partnership," Howard smiled, extending his hand to seal the agreement.
...
Their collaboration proceeded with utmost discretion. Initially, Marcus presented himself as Howard's personal bodyguard.
This arrangement suited Marcus fine. He had nothing pressing to do anyway, and Howard paid him additional compensation for the role, making it a mutually beneficial setup.
However, Marcus's sudden appearance in Howard's entourage attracted considerable attention.
"Seems I've become quite the conversation piece," Marcus remarked while driving Howard home.
"I'm an extremely wealthy man. People monitor my every move—especially when I acquire a mysterious new bodyguard," Howard replied.
He was genuinely impressed with Marcus's professional capabilities. In just a few days, Marcus had identified numerous corporate spies within Stark Industries.
As a world-renowned company, Stark Industries naturally attracted ambitious individuals willing to employ any means to obtain proprietary technology. Unfortunately for them, they encountered the battle-hardened Marcus instead.
While their espionage techniques might have fooled others, they raised immediate red flags to Marcus's trained instincts. He had initially suspected they were investigating him, only to discover they were industrial spies targeting Stark's innovations.
"Incidentally, Tony seems quite intrigued by you. He's been asking Maria about you whenever he calls home these days."
"So that's the real reason you want me to drive you home?" Marcus asked, eyebrow raised.
At this time, Tony Stark was ostensibly studying abroad, though it might be more accurate to say he was charming women across multiple continents.
His playboy persona was already well-established—reminiscent of a younger Howard.
"Indeed. I thought it might be worthwhile for you two to meet. Perhaps you'll find common ground?"
"I doubt it. Everyone knows your son's personality. If we chat for more than five minutes, I'll probably end up making the genius cry."
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