Tony Stark's Workshop, Malibu
The workshop air hung thick with the metallic tang of ozone and the acrid smell of burnt circuits. The low, sputtering hum of the old arc reactor in Tony Stark's chest was a weak counterpoint to the rhythmic beeping of a makeshift medical monitor Arthur had jury-rigged. Tony lay propped up against a tool cabinet, sipping water, his face pale, but his eyes beginning to burn with a cold, focused fury that pushed back the weakness. Arthur knelt beside him, running a final diagnostic check on the crude connections.
"Power output is stabilizing," Arthur stated, his voice low and steady. "Fluctuations are within acceptable parameters for this... relic. But it won't sustain high output. You're on borrowed time."
"Borrowed time... story of my life right now," Tony rasped, his voice raw. He stared blankly at the metal ceiling. "Thirty years. Thirty years he was Uncle Obie." He gave a short, harsh laugh that turned into a cough. "Played the part perfectly. Right up until he outsourced my assassination."
Arthur stood, moving methodically to clean the shattered glass from the floor. "The arrangement in Afghanistan was merely the final act, Tony. Stane's corruption is foundational."
Tony looked up sharply, the mention of deeper betrayal snapping him back to the present. "Foundational? Okay, Sherlock, lay it on me. What else did Santa Stane leave under the tree?"
Arthur walked over to one of the main workshop consoles, inserting a slim, encrypted data drive – one he'd retrieved from his Inventory. "My people have been digging," he said, his fingers flying across the holographic keyboard. "Ever since you disappeared. Stane wasn't just hiding things from you; he was building a shadow empire within Stark Industries."
A complex web of data erupted onto the main screen: offshore accounts, shell corporations, encrypted shipping manifests designated 'Section 16', satellite imagery of clandestine weapon handoffs.
"Section 16," Arthur explained, his voice clinical, pointing to key nodes. "Stane's off-books pipeline. Selling Stark tech – current and rejected prototypes – directly to the highest bidder." He highlighted links. "Including Raza and the Ten Rings. He also offloaded tech your father rejected – weapons deemed too unstable or unethical for official contracts. Section 16 wasn't just recent; it was his long game, built on betraying Howard's legacy from the start." Arthur pulled up the audio logs: Stane's voice, smooth and businesslike, discussing delivery schedules with Raza, calmly arranging the ambush coordinates, later negotiating for the Mark I scraps.
Tony watched, utterly still, his face hardening into granite.
"So, the weapons that blew up in my face..." Tony whispered, the words gravelly. "...were sold by the guy who sent me there to demonstrate them." He shook his head slowly, a grim understanding dawning. "Double-dipping on my life insurance. Classy." He looked down at the sputtering light in his chest, then back at the screen. "And now he has the new hotness to power his own knock-off along with a board who cums for money."
"He has a power source," Arthur corrected coolly. "A tactical advantage. He does not, however, have the company."
Tony frowned, confusion momentarily breaking through the rage. "What part of 'you're fired' did you miss? Stane and the board just gave me the boot..."
"An irrelevant gesture by men who were already bankrupt," Arthur said dismissively. "Their panic after your press conference, compounded by previous... financial adjustments... created an opportunity." He nodded towards the console. "JARVIS, display Project Phoenix summary."
"Certainly, Arthur," JARVIS's voice filled the workshop. The screen shifted, displaying the flowchart.
[PROJECT PHOENIX]
[STATUS: PHASE 3 COMPLETE]
[OBJECTIVE: Secure Controlling Interest in Stark Industries]
[PHASE 1: (COMPLETE)] - Majority shares secured via shell company acquisition post-stock collapse.
[PHASE 2: (COMPLETE)] - Board assets depleted via premium share resale. SI R&D funded.
[PHASE 3: (COMPLETE)] - Remaining board shares acquired via proxy offer during panic liquidation.
[PHASE 4: (PENDING)] - Final consolidation post-Stane resolution.
Tony stared at the screen, his breathing shallow but quickening. "The shell companies..." He pointed at Phase 1. "Acquisition? How did you 'acquire' their private shell companies?"
"Legally," Arthur replied simply. "Ownership was transferred."
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Transferred how? You can't just... take them."
"I bought them," Arthur stated, his tone matter-of-fact.
Tony blinked. "You... bought them? With what money? You think SI petty cash covers buying out the entire board's shadow network?"
Arthur just gave a small, almost imperceptible smile, holding Tony's gaze but offering no further explanation.
Tony stared back, the implications slowly dawning. He let out a shaky laugh. "Okay. Okay, wow. So you've been playing... well, you. Playing God with your own Monopoly money." He then looked back at the flowchart, pointing again. "And JARVIS? How did you get my AI involved in your corporate coup?"
"An entity capable of managing Stark Industries' global network wouldn't remain hidden from diligent analysis for long," Arthur replied smoothly. "Once your disappearance created a power vacuum, JARVIS's primary directive—protecting you and your company—made cooperation logical. He reached out."
"Indeed, sir," JARVIS interjected calmly. "Mr. Steele's plan presented the highest probability of preserving your controlling interest and mitigating the board's hostile actions during your absence. My protocols dictated collaboration."
Tony looked between the impassive lawyer and the invisible AI. "So my butler AI teamed up with my Machiavellian lawyer behind my back? Okay, definitely need another drink later." His eyes narrowed slightly again. "The news reports... GNN suddenly finding its conscience, painting Stane like Lex Luthor? That you too, Steele?"
Arthur simply met his gaze, taking a slow sip of his scotch. "Narrative control is strategically valuable."
Tony stared at him, then threw his head back and let out a genuine, booming laugh that echoed through the workshop, despite the obvious pain it caused him. "You magnificent bastard!" he wheezed, pushing himself weakly to his feet, using a nearby workbench for support. The physical weakness was still there, but the calculating light in his eyes was back, sharper than ever.
"He played his game," Arthur said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "We simply played ours better." He met Tony's gaze. "The company is secure. The board is neutralized. Your hands are clean." He took another sip. "Phase Four will handle the final cleanup, once the current situation is resolved."
Suddenly, Tony's eyes widened slightly, the humor vanishing. "Pepper... Oh god, Pepper! I sent her to my office. Told her to grab the Section 16 files off the mainframe..."
Arthur gave a slight nod, his expression turning serious. "She called me just before I arrived. Said she found everything. Stane dealing with terrorists, the works. I told her explicitly to stay with Coulson, keep clear." Arthur paused, his expression grim. "But Stane's heading to Section 16 with that reactor. Coulson now has the intel from Pepper. He's not going to sit idly by. He'll likely head straight for Section 16 himself."
The implications settled heavily in the air. Coulson was heading into danger, and Stane was desperate.
Arthur finished his scotch. "Now, what are you going to do about Obadiah?"
Tony looked towards the gleaming red and gold plates of the Mark III armor, still waiting on the assembly platform. The sputtering light in his chest pulsed weakly. "JARVIS," he commanded, his voice regaining its strength, infused with cold purpose. "Prep the suit."
Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the workshop stairs. Colonel Rhodes appeared, his face etched with worry. He took in the scene – the shattered glass, Tony leaning heavily on the bench with the crude reactor glowing weakly, Arthur standing calmly amidst the chaos.
"Tony! What the hell happened?"
Rhodey demanded, rushing to his friend's side.
"Just a little... hostile takeover," Tony managed, a pained grin flickering across his face. "Turns out office politics are rougher than I thought."
"Pepper called me," Rhodey said, his eyes scanning Tony's condition with concern. "She sounded panicked. Said she found proof Stane was behind... everything. Said she and some Agent Coulson were heading to Stark Industries, Section 16, to intercept him." He looked from Tony to Arthur. "What's going on?"
Tony pushed himself upright, ignoring the strain, the fury returning. "Short version? Obie hired the welcome wagon in Afghanistan. Then he ripped this," he tapped the old reactor, "out of my chest to power up his own oversized tin can. He's at Section 16 now, probably having it installed."
Rhodey's eyes widened in disbelief, then hardened with resolve. "Okay. Okay, what's the play?"
Tony looked at the Mark III, then back at Rhodey, a determined glint in his eyes. "The play... is that I suit up."
Rhodey looked from Tony's depleted state to the gleaming armor. "Tony, are you sure you're up for this? You look like hell."
"Never better," Tony quipped, already moving towards the platform.
"Okay," Rhodey said, his military training kicking in. "What do you need? How can I help?"
Tony paused, looking back at his friend. "Keep the skies clear," he said, his voice serious. "I don't need any more geese getting in the way."
Rhodey nodded grimly. "Consider it done."
As Tony moved towards the suit platform and Rhodey started making calls on his military comms, Arthur discreetly pulled out his phone and dialed the number from Coulson's card.
It picked up quickly. "Coulson." Sounds of movement, possibly a car, were audible.
"Agent Coulson, Arthur Steele," Arthur said, his voice low and even, turning slightly away. "Pepper Potts called me. I understand you're en route to Section 16?"
"That's affirmative, Mr. Steele," Coulson replied, his tone professional but alert. "Ms. Potts provided compelling intel."
"Compelling doesn't cover it, Agent," Arthur cut in, injecting urgency into his voice. "Stane isn't just armed; he's equipped. He has a suit, an advanced combat chassis based on Stark's Mark I, powered by a miniaturized arc reactor he stole from Stark moments ago. Your team is walking into a situation significantly exceeding standard threat parameters."
There was a beat of silence, then the sound of Coulson relaying information rapidly to someone else. "A powered suit? Confirmed?"
"Confirmed," Arthur stated flatly. "My priority is Ms. Potts's safety. She's a civilian witness who has placed herself at considerable risk. I strongly advise you ensure she is secured away from any direct confrontation."
"Ms. Potts is our primary asset right now, Mr. Steele, her safety is already paramount," Coulson replied, his voice tight. "This intel regarding the armor is... significant. Changes the tactical approach. We'll adjust."
"Stark is mobilizing," Arthur added. "He intends to engage Stane directly."
"...Understood," Coulson said after another brief pause. "Tell Stark we'll try to keep the field clear, but standard procedure..."
"Is irrelevant when dealing with experimental armored exoskeletons," Arthur finished for him. "Just keep Pepper safe, Agent. Stark will handle Stane." He ended the call before Coulson could argue further.
Arthur pocketed his phone, turning back just as Tony, with Rhodey watching anxiously, was sealing the faceplate of the Mark III armor. The sputtering light in his chest was barely visible beneath the gleaming red and gold plating.
"Okay, Counselor!" Tony's voice crackled through the external speaker, muffled but sharp. "Time for me to handle the extra-judicial part. You stick to the billable hours, got it?"
Arthur allowed himself a small, dry smile. "My meter is running, Mr. Stark. Ensure the conflict concludes efficiently."
A/N.
This might just be my most accurate set of Tony Stark dialogues and interactions yet. I had a lot of fun, tearing my hair off to get this right.
I would love to know how I did according to you guys.
Ok, I am tired as hell, I am going to sleep and not wake up till the next day.