The pudgy senator was all smiles the moment he walked in—smiling so hard his eyes nearly disappeared into his cheeks. "Ms. Johnson is truly an exemplary representative of today's entrepreneurial elite..."
As a politician who made his living with his mouth, Stern's flattery was leagues beyond Justin Hammer's clumsy attempts. His compliments sounded almost heartfelt without ever becoming grating. He wielded the art of conversation with masterful precision. Even knowing full well that this man was HYDRA, Daisy couldn't help feeling rather pleased.
Senator Stern dispensed praise like it was free, showering Daisy with titles like "outstanding scientist" and "distinguished entrepreneur" right out of the gate.
He'd clearly done his homework. The pudgy senator wove seamlessly from data analytics into national defense, then launched into a passionate indictment of frontline generals who fought without thinking, carelessly squandering the lives of ordinary soldiers.
"They're committing crimes—using young people's lives to climb the ranks and line the pockets of oil barons!" Stern's performance was masterful. He was completely in character, bringing to life the role of a senator who genuinely cared about the enlisted ranks.
"The senator makes an excellent point," Daisy replied, playing along for appearances' sake.
Then Stern pivoted. "Hammer Industries has been working tirelessly to develop mechanized armor, hoping to save those innocent lives. Unfortunately..."
Justin Hammer instantly adopted a look of deep compassion. "Unfortunately, my capabilities have fallen short. Neither the software nor the hardware has achieved the level of perfection we need."
Daisy clapped a hand over her mouth and forced her facial muscles into an expression of regret. She was terrified she might laugh out loud. What Justin had built were less like suits of armor and more like drone soldiers. Without major modifications, a human pilot couldn't even fit inside. And just as he'd admitted, both the software and the hardware were garbage.
In Daisy's eyes, Hammer Industries' current assets weren't worth much. Danger had run the analysis: Justin had funneled massive amounts of capital into the drone soldier R&D program. Even with the Department of Defense's substantial order book propping him up, the company was now mired in deep financial trouble.
"We know Ms. Johnson is a highly accomplished engineer, and we'd be honored if you would join Hammer Industries," Justin Hammer finally said at the end of their meeting, revealing his true purpose. They didn't care about Skye Data at all. What they were really doing was buying Daisy's expertise with company shares.
If the company survived, everyone made money. If it went bankrupt or suffered a major blow, Hammer Industries shares wouldn't be worth much anyway.
As a businessman, Justin Hammer's reasoning was actually quite shrewd.
Daisy didn't commit on the spot. She said goodbye to the pudgy senator and, with her former mob consigliere in tow, followed Justin to his weapons manufacturing facility on the outskirts of the city.
The grounds were vast, the equipment state-of-the-art, and the personnel among the industry's best. Daisy spotted several engineers who'd formerly been key members of Stark Industries' weapons development division. These people weren't about to go work at some wind farm. They built weapons. That was all they knew, all they'd ever done. Having lost their positions when Stark shut down the division, they'd had no choice but to walk through Hammer Industries' doors, willing or not.
Back when Obadiah had been running the show, Stark Industries had Hammer Industries pinned to the mat on a daily basis. As former Stark employees, these engineers carried a deep sense of superiority over their new employer. But reality had forced them to swallow their pride and defect to their old rival, however reluctantly.
Daisy paid the spineless technical staff no attention and followed Justin deeper inside. In the cleanroom fabrication bay, she laid eyes on the so-called drone soldiers.
"Mr. Hammer, I'm told each of these units carries a price tag of a hundred and twenty million?" Daisy pointed at the machines in front of her—objects that looked more like toys than weapons.
Hammer's expression when he looked at his own products was peculiar. If forced to describe it, you'd say he looked like he'd just eaten something deeply unpleasant. The products he'd pinned all his hopes on had turned out like this. He wanted to drag every designer and engineer out back and have them shot.
But he was a businessman, not an engineer. He simply didn't have the talent for this line of work. The engineers he'd poached from Stark Industries at exorbitant cost had produced exactly what stood before them, and the noose was already tightening around his neck. He'd had no choice but to call for outside help.
In the original timeline, Ivan Vanko had volunteered his services for free. But Vanko had died under mysterious circumstances in his hospital room, cutting off that lifeline entirely.
With his back against the wall, one of Hammer Industries' behind-the-scenes backers—Senator Stern—had come to him. Between the external pressure and the internal arm-twisting, Justin's only option was Daisy.
Daisy was in an incomparably better position than a man rotting in a prison cell. Her asking price was different, and the cost of securing her help would be significantly higher.
Forcing a smile, Justin Hammer gazed at his drone soldiers the way a father might look at a deeply disappointing child. "Yes. The price I actually quoted the Department of Defense was a hundred and twenty-five million seven hundred thousand per unit. Per-unit production cost comes in at roughly ninety million."
Daisy looked around. Twenty drone soldiers in total. Meaning this man had dumped close to two billion dollars into this pit.
Building the helicarrier had been backbreaking work, and her total cut came to what? Eight hundred million. Meanwhile, these junky robots—in her professional estimation—were collectively worth maybe four or five hundred million. In other words, Justin Hammer had been fleeced for at least one and a half billion, probably more.
Daisy sighed inwardly. Defense contracting really was where the money was. In her mind, Justin Hammer's profile had crystallized into one simple phrase: loaded, gullible, come quick.
The man was impulsive, technically illiterate, and had terrible judgment. He was thoroughly unfit to run a company. His actual talent? Salesmanship. Justin Hammer was a world-class marketing genius.
It didn't matter whether he could deliver—he could sell the dream beautifully. Riding the strength of these clunky drone soldiers, he'd managed to lock down a five-year contract with the Department of Defense. The preliminary terms were already settled. Apart from the drone soldiers being a letdown, everything else was more or less in order.
Her past life had taught Daisy one lesson above all others: was money important? Sure. But relationships were what truly mattered.
Justin Hammer's strong rapport with the Department of Defense was his single most valuable asset.
Daisy circled the drone soldiers twice, then used her hacking skills to breach Hammer Industries' firewall and examine the source code.
Ivan Vanko's assessment of these machines had been brutal. Daisy reached more or less the same conclusion.
Hammer Industries had spent years being crushed by Stark Industries. The talent pool they'd managed to assemble was strictly second-rate. Now that they'd finally gained some momentum, Justin's reckless spending had driven them straight into a ditch.
Could she salvage these drone soldiers? Daisy didn't think it would be hard. Compared to the helicarrier project, this was child's play.
But she wasn't satisfied with Justin's offer. Three percent? Was he trying to get rid of a beggar? She held the key technology, a monopoly nobody else could match. She wanted more.