Rhodey's relief was palpable as he watched Tony emerge from the military transport at Edwards Air Force Base, but Tony's first words weren't about cheeseburgers or freedom or the miracle of his survival.
"We need to talk about Obadiah," Tony said without preamble, his voice carrying an urgency that made everyone within earshot freeze. "Privately. And we need to do it now."
Colonel James Rhodes had known Tony Stark for over twenty years. He'd seen him drunk, sober, brilliant, reckless, and everything in between. But the man who stood before him now was different—harder, more focused, with eyes that held knowledge no one should possess.
"Tony, you've been through hell," Rhodey said carefully, gesturing toward the waiting convoy of black SUVs. "Maybe we should get you to a hospital first, let the doctors check you out, and then—"
"I've been through hell before," Tony interrupted, his tone making it clear this wasn't a suggestion. "Right now, I need you to listen very carefully because people's lives depend on what we do in the next few hours." He looked directly at his oldest friend. "Obadiah Stane has been selling weapons to both sides of every conflict Stark Industries has been involved in for the past fifteen years. He's the one who arranged for me to be in Afghanistan, and he's the one who made sure those terrorists knew exactly when and where to find me."
The silence that followed was deafening. Rhodey's face went through several expressions—disbelief, confusion, and finally a dawning horror as he processed what Tony was saying.
"That's… that's impossible," Rhodey said quietly. "Tony, Obie's been like a father to you since Howard died. He's been running the company, keeping everything together while you were—"
"While I was playing at being a weapons manufacturer without understanding the true cost," Tony finished. "Yeah, I know. And he's been using that trust, that relationship, to turn Stark Industries into the largest arms dealer on the black market." Tony pulled out a tablet—not the standard military issue, but something sleeker, more advanced. "I need you to look at this."
The tablet displayed financial records, shipping manifests, and communication logs that painted a devastating picture of systematic betrayal spanning over a decade. Rhodey's face grew paler with each document he reviewed.
"How did you get this?" Rhodey asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Let's just say I've had a lot of time to think about corporate security and financial oversight," Tony replied grimly. "The question isn't how I got it. The question is what we're going to do about it."
"We need to contact the FBI, the DOD, get investigators—"
"No." Tony's voice cut through Rhodey's planning like a blade. "By the time federal investigators get involved, Obadiah will have destroyed evidence, moved assets offshore, and probably arranged for a few key witnesses to have tragic accidents. We're going to handle this internally, quickly, and thoroughly."
Tony began walking toward the convoy, his stride purposeful and confident. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to arrange for me to have a private meeting with General Ross and whoever else is handling the weapons procurement oversight for the Pentagon. I'm going to provide them with enough evidence to launch immediate investigations into every defense contract Stark Industries has been involved in for the past decade."
"And then?"
"Then I'm going to call an emergency board meeting," Tony said, climbing into the lead SUV. "And I'm going to systematically dismantle Obadiah's entire operation before he even realizes what's happening."
The drive to Stark Industries headquarters took forty-five minutes through Los Angeles traffic. Tony spent the time on encrypted phone calls, his fingers flying across tablets and devices that Rhodey was fairly certain weren't available to civilian contractors. By the time they arrived at the gleaming tower that bore the Stark name, Tony had already set several plans in motion.
"Sir," Happy Hogan said as they pulled up to the main entrance, "Ms. Potts is waiting in your office. She's been… well, she's been pretty worried."
Tony's expression softened slightly at the mention of Pepper. In his original timeline, she had died because of his failures, because he hadn't been smart enough or fast enough to protect the people he cared about. This time would be different.
"Happy, I need you to do something for me," Tony said as they rode the elevator to the executive floor. "I need you to make sure that security footage from the past six months gets backed up to an off-site location. All of it. Board meetings, executive discussions, private conversations—everything."
"Is there something specific you're looking for?"
"Evidence," Tony replied simply. "And insurance."
Pepper Potts was indeed waiting in his office, and the moment she saw him, Tony could see the mixture of relief, anger, and concern that had been building during his captivity. She was beautiful, brilliant, and alive—which was more than he'd been able to say the last time he'd seen her.
"Tony Stark," she said, her voice carefully controlled, "you have exactly thirty seconds to explain to me why your first priority upon returning from three months in terrorist captivity was corporate espionage instead of medical attention."
"Because the man who put me in that cave is sitting three floors down planning my funeral while he liquidates my company," Tony replied without hesitation. "And because if I don't stop him in the next few hours, a lot more people are going to die."
Pepper's expression shifted from anger to alarm. "What are you talking about?"
Tony activated the holographic display system he'd had installed in his office—technology that was supposedly still in development but worked perfectly when you knew exactly how to calibrate it. Financial documents, shipping records, and communication intercepts filled the air between them in glowing blue light.
"Obadiah Stane has been using Stark Industries as a front for illegal arms dealing," Tony explained, manipulating the holographic displays with practiced ease. "Weapons that we've sold legally to the US military have been finding their way to insurgent groups, terrorist organizations, and anyone else willing to pay premium prices for American hardware."
Pepper stared at the evidence floating in front of her, her face growing pale as the implications became clear. "Tony, this is… this is treason. This is providing material support to enemies of the United States."
"Among other things, yes." Tony highlighted specific transactions with gestures that made the relevant data glow brighter. "But here's the really interesting part—look at the timing of these shipments compared to my travel schedule."
The pattern was clear once Tony pointed it out. Every time he'd traveled to demonstrate weapons systems, every time he'd made public appearances in potential conflict zones, there had been corresponding shipments of Stark Industries weapons to groups operating in those same areas.
"He's been using you as bait," Pepper whispered, the full horror of the situation becoming clear. "Every demonstration, every public appearance—he's been setting you up."
"And this time, he finally succeeded." Tony's voice was hard, controlled fury barely held in check. "Except I survived, and I came back with knowledge he never expected me to have."
"How did you find all this?"
Tony looked at her for a long moment, knowing that his next words would fundamentally change their relationship. "Because I've lived through this before, Pepper. All of it. The betrayal, the cover-up, the years of fighting to undo the damage. And in that timeline, I wasn't smart enough to save the people I cared about."
"What does that mean?"
"It means," Tony said, moving to his desk and activating several more systems, "that this time I'm not going to be reactive. This time, I'm going to be ten steps ahead of everyone else." He looked directly at her. "Starting with Obadiah."
As if summoned by his words, the office door opened and Obadiah Stane walked in with his usual confident stride, arms spread wide in a gesture of welcome and relief.
"Tony!" he boomed, his voice carrying the warmth of a beloved uncle greeting a wayward nephew. "Thank God you're safe! When we got word that you'd been rescued, I couldn't believe—"
"Cut the act, Obie," Tony said quietly, not bothering to look up from his work. "We both know why I was in Afghanistan, and we both know you're the one who made sure I wouldn't be coming back."
The silence in the room was deafening. Obadiah's expression shifted from joy to confusion to something much more dangerous.
"Tony, I think your ordeal has left you a little confused," Obadiah said carefully, his voice taking on the patronizing tone he used when he thought someone was being unreasonable. "You've been through a traumatic experience. Maybe you should rest before—"
"Before I call an emergency board meeting to discuss your systematic embezzlement of company resources and illegal weapons trafficking?" Tony looked up, his eyes hard as steel. "Or before I turn over evidence of your activities to federal investigators?"
Obadiah's mask finally slipped completely. The jovial uncle disappeared, replaced by something cold and calculating.
"You don't have any evidence," he said flatly.
"Don't I?" Tony gestured to the holographic displays still floating in the air between them. "Fifteen years of financial records, shipping manifests, communication intercepts, and transaction logs. All of it pointing to a systematic operation to use Stark Industries as a front for illegal arms dealing."
"Those could be fabricated. Digital records can be manipulated by anyone with the right technical skills." Obadiah's voice was gaining confidence as he spoke. "And you've certainly demonstrated some… unusual capabilities since your return."
"You're right," Tony agreed. "Digital records can be faked. But security footage is a little harder to explain away." He activated another display, this one showing video recordings of Obadiah's private meetings, phone conversations, and negotiations with buyers who were clearly not legitimate military contractors. "Especially when it comes from your own office."
The color drained from Obadiah's face as he watched himself on screen, negotiating prices for weapons shipments to groups that were openly hostile to American interests.
"How long have you been recording me?" he asked quietly.
"Since the day I became suspicious of your activities," Tony lied smoothly. The truth—that he'd used future knowledge to know exactly when and where to find incriminating evidence—was too complicated to explain. "Which was longer ago than you think."
Obadiah stood there for a long moment, weighing his options. Tony could practically see the calculations running through his mind—could he discredit the evidence? Could he claim it was all a misunderstanding? Could he somehow turn the situation to his advantage?
"Even if all of this is true," Obadiah said finally, "you can't prove I was responsible for your kidnapping. You can't prove that I specifically arranged for those terrorists to target you."
"Actually, I can." Tony activated one more display, this one showing financial transfers from accounts controlled by Obadiah to known associates of the Ten Rings organization. "Payment for services rendered, with timing that corresponds exactly to when I was scheduled to be in Afghanistan."
The room fell silent again. Pepper was staring at the evidence with horrified fascination, while Obadiah looked like a man watching his entire world collapse around him.
"What do you want?" Obadiah asked quietly.
"Your resignation from Stark Industries, effective immediately," Tony replied without hesitation. "Full cooperation with federal investigations into your activities. And most importantly, the locations of every weapons cache, every contact, and every operation you've been running through our company."
"And if I refuse?"
Tony smiled, and it was not a pleasant expression. "Then I release all of this evidence to every major news organization simultaneously, along with a complete list of everyone who's been complicit in your operations. Your choice—cooperate and minimize the damage, or watch everything burn while you go to prison for treason."
Obadiah stared at him for a long moment, then slowly reached into his jacket. Tony tensed, his hand moving instinctively toward the emergency alert button on his desk, but what Obadiah pulled out was not a weapon.
It was his resignation letter, already prepared.
"I've been carrying this for three months," Obadiah said quietly, placing the document on Tony's desk. "Ever since we got word that you'd been taken. I knew that if you somehow survived, if you somehow made it back, you'd figure out what had been happening."
"Then why?" Pepper asked, speaking for the first time since the confrontation began. "Why betray him? Why betray the company? You helped build all of this!"
Obadiah looked at her with something that might have been genuine sadness. "Because Tony was going to destroy it all anyway. His weapons were becoming too advanced, too precise, too clean. He was making warfare too easy, too consequence-free. I was trying to maintain balance—selling to both sides, making sure no one got too much of an advantage."
"You were profiting from chaos," Tony said flatly. "Creating markets for your products by making sure there were always conflicts that needed to be fought."
"I was maintaining stability through controlled instability," Obadiah corrected. "But you… you would have upset all of that. Your new designs, your advanced systems—they would have made traditional warfare obsolete. Do you have any idea what that would have meant for global economics? For political balance?"
"It would have meant fewer people dying," Tony replied. "Which, apparently, was bad for business."
Obadiah signed the resignation letter with a pen that shook slightly in his hands. "The board will never accept this without an explanation."
"They'll get one," Tony assured him. "Along with a comprehensive plan for restructuring the company's operations to focus on legitimate defense contracts and emerging clean energy technologies." He paused. "Technologies that will make your illegal arms dealing operation look like a lemonade stand in terms of profitability."
As Obadiah left the office—escorted by security personnel who had been quietly summoned during the conversation—Tony turned to Pepper, who was still staring at the evidence displays with shell-shocked fascination.
"Are you all right?" he asked gently.
"I think so," she replied, though her voice suggested otherwise. "Tony, what you just did… how did you know all of this? How did you prepare so thoroughly?"
Tony looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office at the city sprawling below. Somewhere out there, threats were already forming that wouldn't manifest for years. Artificial intelligences that would try to destroy humanity. Alien invasions that would test Earth's defenses. A purple titan who would eventually come for the stones that could rewrite reality itself.
"Because I learned the hard way that being reactive isn't enough," he said finally. "Sometimes you have to be willing to make the hard choices before anyone else even realizes they need to be made."
"And now?"
Tony turned back to her, his expression serious but determined. "Now we rebuild. We restructure Stark Industries to be exactly what I always claimed it was—a force for making the world safer and better. And we prepare for the threats that are coming, even if no one else believes they exist yet."
Through his office windows, Tony could see the sun setting over Los Angeles, painting the sky in shades of red and gold that reminded him of his armor's color scheme. Somewhere in the distance, government officials were already beginning to investigate the evidence he'd provided. Defense contractors were scrambling to understand how the balance of power had shifted so dramatically in a single afternoon.
But Tony's mind was already working on the next phase of his plan. He had neutralized the immediate threat to his company and his life, but that was just the beginning. He had weapons to improve, allies to recruit, and a universe to save.
The future was going to be different this time.
And it was going to start with the choices he made right here, right now, in this moment when everything was still possible.