| Tony
Stark prayed that it would all come to an end soon.
The pain swept through his left leg at an agonizingly slow
rate. The next assault began
at a predictably hectic pace, everyone attempting to launch their
salvos at one time. It took
all Tony had not to turn tail and flee as quickly as he could. But no, he had a responsibility to stay; to
outlast those who would try to wear him down.
It was his responsibility…his duty…as…
…major
stock holder and former day-to-day manager of Stark Solutions.
It was because of this dubious distinction that he stood
at the front of a regally furnished conference room, twelve pairs
of scrutinizing eyes watching his every move.
Waiting for one slip, one mistake.
Even a typo in the slide presentation running on the screen
behind him would suffice. No such error would arrive though. Tony Stark was a consummate professional.
In his lines of work-both of them- outward appearance was
almost every bit as important as intention.
The
trouble with running a publicly traded company, even if you owned
the majority share, was that you were ultimately responsible to
the stockholders. And despite
the seemingly endless amount of attention the public seemed to pay
towards “green” and noble companies, the majority of stockholders
had one true motivation: profit. The average stockholder couldn’t possibly be
expected to keep a constant vigil over the company’s financial outlook;
that was what the Board of Trustees was for.
Twelve men and women who answered to the shareholders and had a knack
for being stubborn. This
was not to be confused with ignorance; the members of the Board
were all business savvy, and would not make unruly demands that
the market could not support. This
didn’t prevent them from making life difficult for whoever was running
the business though. Their tenure was dependent upon the appeasement
of shareholders, which was based, primarily, on profit.
This
was a position, in front of the Board, Tony had hoped to avoid after
naming Bill Foster as CEO of Stark Solutions. The motivation for Bill’s promotion was two
fold. First, Tony wanted
the chance to focus on other endeavors, not least of which being
his role as Iron Man.
The second was the onslaught of negative press released by
Morgan Stark, Tony’s cousin, who decided to publish a “tell all”
book about the darker side of Tony’s life.
Everything from corrupt business contracts, to tax evasion,
to Tony’s struggle with alcoholism, was exposed for the world to
see. Everything except for
his ties to Iron Man, strangely enough. Tony went from millionaire playboy to tabloid
headliner, and whispers amongst the members of the board suggested
the negative press was hurting the company.
It seemed like the right time to step down as head of operations.
But
here he was again, addressing the Board as he had for years.
Bill was still “recovering” from their ordeal with the Mandarin.
Now there was a whole other mess Tony would’ve preferred
to focus on. Just a few days prior, the Mandarin and his
daughter from the future had been taken into custody after making
another bid for power. But
there was still a floating island, the Jade Empire, sitting over
Asia, which was causing a great deal of political
consternation. Iron Man’s role in the Mandarin’s defeat seemed
to preclude him from simply ignoring the floating city. In addition to that, Tony hadn’t attended to
his private life in sometime. He
had a girlfriend who he believed he truly cared for, but had been
unable to spend time with. One
of his best friends lay in a coma.
His personal assistant, a robot, had developed an attraction
for him. And to top it all
off, he had a son. Not technically
his son though…the son of a future Tony Stark, who had come back
in time. And here he was,
stuck in front of people who had an entirely different agenda on
their minds. It made all of their questions seem so…trivial.
“Mr.
Stark?” one of the board members asked. Tony turned to examine the middle-aged man and
a short description raced through his mind like clockwork. Norman Peabody. Stanford graduate sitting on the board of several
Fortune 500 companies. Married twice. Not his
own hair.
“Yes?”
“Investment
in both domestic and foreign markets has dropped markedly since
the appearance of the so called ‘Jade Empire’. Investments in Stark properties have dropped
especially far considering Iron Man’s involvement in the crisis. Have any propositions been put forth regarding
a possible response?”
“I’m
glad you asked, Norman. Our finance department has drawn up several
stimulus and aid packages that you’ll receive on your way out.”
“Have
you thought about Iron Man’s involvement at all?”
“I’ve
asked Iron Man to let us handle everything. Saving the world can be taxing,” Tony said with
a grin.
“We
agree with that decision,” Peabody
said with a slight pause. “But
before we leave the topic of the iron Avenger, there were a few
more questions I wanted to ask,” Peabody
continued, the exchange maintaining a professional tone.
“Then
by all means, proceed.”
“It
has always been our understanding that Iron Man is under the employ
of Stark Solutions, and that his armor is actually manufactured
by us. I’ve noticed several
of the technologies in his armor being used in some of our demolition
and construction machinery. This
is true, am I right?”
“Yes,”
Tony offered simply. He wasn’t
sure where Peabody was
headed with this, and didn’t want to surrender more information
than he had to.
“In
watching recent news footage, I noticed several additions to Iron
Man’s armor. Upgrades, I
suppose, that I haven’t seen reflected in any of our products or
proposed projects. I guess
my question is simply regarding the terms of Iron Man’s employment.
Some of the technology he employs could be of great interest
to potential investors.”
Tony
gave a slight pause. He had
always given Norman credit for being intelligent, but never this
much. Tony couldn’t just
tell them the truth…that the Iron Man armor had been enhanced with
alien technologies while in another universe.
“The
specifics of Iron Man’s contract are proprietary, Mr. Peabody, but
I can assure you that any technology used by my bodyguard is licensed
and owned by me. I can also
tell you that the additions you’ve seen are still in the early testing
phases, and are not quite ready for patent, although I applaud you
on your keen eye.”
“Thank
you, Tony,” Norman said,
clearly not thrilled with the answer he received. Before either man could remark further another
member of the board was posing a question on a completely different
topic, something Tony was grateful for.
Incorporating more advanced technology into the firm’s offerings
would squash all of the competition and possibly double Tony’s wealth. But the world at large wasn’t ready for half
of the technology the Iron Man armor used.
It was a fine line he had to constantly walk.
It
was a hectic time to be Tony Stark.
Jimmy
Stark soared through the air effortlessly; twisting and turning
through the maelstrom of poorly aimed repulsor beams aimed his way.
He could hear the air howl as he soared forward, arms pressed
against his side to amplify his aerodynamic flight.
Commuters sat rooted in their cars, watching in awe as the
armored hero whizzed by overhead, pursuing a trio of bank robbers.
The three men stumbled in and out of the grid locked cars,
constantly turning around and firing haphazardly at their pursuer.
Baseball-sized columns of yellow light would skirt from the
gaudy gauntlets they had squeezed their hands into, each shot giving
off the smell of burnt ozone. That
was about all the thieves had managed to burn, as none of their
shots were even close to touching the charging Iron Lad.
That didn’t mean Jimmy wasn’t going to apprehend these slime
balls without any difficulty though.
“Tony
will have my ass if anyone gets hurt because these morons missed
me and hit someone else. But
if I miss from this angle I could cause more damage than they would,”
Jimmy thought, gazing down at the scrambling robbers. He was practically on top of them now, a little more than fifteen feet from the road and eight
feet from the tallest of the crooks, all who wore cheap black Kevlar. Their ducking and weaving throughout the maze
of stalled cars had inadvertently kept Jimmy from firing at them
when he was farther back. But
now, with the sun directly overhead and his armor casting the bandits
into shadows, the risk was minimized.
It was no longer a matter of accuracy, but of speed.
The idiots with the hand-me-down gauntlets could easily start
taking hostages once they realized they couldn’t run.
If Tony wouldn’t be happy with collateral property damage,
a hostage situation would make him livid.
With
this in mind Jimmy extended his right arm forward, angling his hand
so that the open palm was pointed right at the closest crook.
The sensors in his own gauntlet fed information directly
to his helmet, allowing his HUD (head-up display) to display a target
reticule where he could expect his repulsor beam to hit. Iron Lad was so practiced in his abilities that
the reticule was a vestigial gesture.
It had been a long time since Jimmy had required the armor’s
help in guiding his strikes. That
wasn’t about to change today. A
repulsor ray, similar to those being fired by the crooks, shot out
Jimmy’s crimson gauntlet and slammed directly in the lower back
of the closest thief. The man groaned and tripped forward, planting
his face firmly into the ground.
One
of his companions, hearing the commotion, turned just in time to
see Iron Lad accelerating straight at him between the motionless
cars. Jimmy caught the second
man with his outstretched left arm, wrapping his hand firmly around
the robber’s cheap gauntlet. The
glove sparked once before short circuiting, crackling and sizzling
even as its owner howled in pain, his hand broken.
The
third and final crook had continued to run as fast as he could.
He made the mistake of looking over his shoulder though,
a move that slowed him down ever just enough. Jimmy saw the opening and pushed his armor harder,
increasing the force of his boot thrusters. He jolted forward and wrapped his right arm
around the last man’s waist. With
the two thugs in tow, Jimmy streaked straight up into the sky, ignoring
the protests of his captives. Once
he was satisfied with the level of fear he had instilled he did
a vertical loop through the air, throwing in a corkscrew maneuver
at the end so that he was headed back towards the authorities.
The crooks were whimpering by that point, grasping feebly
at his arms, praying he wouldn’t drop them.
His
boot jets roared, shooting dirt out in all directions as he landed
right by the waiting police cruisers.
The two men he had taken for the ride collapsed into huddled
masses on the ground, failing to offer any resistance as the local
boys in blue yanked them up by their collars and forcefully removed
their cheap weapons. Inside of his armor, Jimmy was grinning like
a moron, proud of his good work.
There was no way Tony could disapprove of what his son from
the future had done here today.
And that was when a bloodcurdling scream split Jimmy’s pride
in two.
“Great…”
Jimmy grumbled, his voice bouncing around the interior of his helmet.
The last bank robber had recovered from Jimmy’s repulsor
blast and grabbed a young woman from her car.
His gauntlet-clad palm was held open right beside the trembling
woman’s head, threatening to fry her brains with a flick of the
wrist. The thief was sweating
profusely; his voice was erratic and pitchy. Lights flashed sporadically inside of Jimmy’s
helmet, changing his prognosis of the situation from bad to worse. The cheap trinket this thug was using had gone
unstable; it could implode at any moment, taking the man’s hand
and the entire side of his hostage’s face with it.
“Stay
back…all of you,” the man said skittishly. He had wrapped his other arm around the woman’s
neck, yanking her firmly against him.
Jimmy wasn’t sure which would blow first…the faulty energy
source or the thug. Everyone
was frozen in place, completely absorbed in the crisis.
Murmurs and gasps began to escape the crowd, but it wasn’t
until a long shadow quickly passed over the thug that he realized
something was amiss. He looked frantically at Jimmy, trying to confirm
that it wasn’t Iron Lad who had cast the length of darkness over
him. His eyes seemed to bug
out when he realized Iron Lad truly wasn’t to blame.
With a sick look on his face he slowly craned his head, looking
back over his shoulder.
“Might
want to let the girl go, son,” a tall, African American man instructed.
Except tall probably wasn’t the right term.
This man was gigantic, standing just over three stories tall
and wearing some sort of spandex-like fabric.
His legs straddled the street, feet planted firmly on the
sidewalk. He was staring down at the man and his hostage
from a few feet back. Everyone,
including Jimmy and the crook, was so focused on Bill Foster that
they failed to notice the other player to enter the fray.
The bandit felt someone tapping on his shoulder, causing
him whirl to around, a look of complete and utter disbelief plastered
on his face. If there were additional room on the man’s face
for incredulity, it would have been filled instantly. Standing before him now was a young woman with
shining blonde hair, hands planted firmly on her hips.
“Stupid
scag,” she muttered in a thick British
accent. She struck with
surprising speed, swinging her right fist out wide before connecting
with the side of the bank robber’s side. The man groaned miserably as he went sprawling
to the left, releasing his hostage and slamming sickeningly against
the side of a neighboring car.
His body crumpled to the ground, leaving an ugly indent
in the metal car doors. Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief. The crisis had been averted.
Jimmy
snickered. Then he read a few more sentences. His snickering increased to a full-fledged snort.
Then he read a few more sentences.
His face turned red, trying to hold in the laughter.
Then he read another sentence.
He
couldn’t take it anymore. The book hit the carpet with a sound barely
noticeable.
“Bwahahahaha~!”
But
Jimmy, rolling around on the floor, kicking his legs in the air,
tears pouring down his cheek, was certainly noticed by Tony.
The library made Jimmy look much smaller than he already
was. Books upon books rose till they pushed against
the ceiling, covering two whole levels of the Stark Estate in
Washington. The plush,
brown leather furniture (which matched the rest of the library’s
earthy tones) dwarfed Jimmy as well, surrounding him like Stonehenge. Tony had to peer over his own
massive wooden desk, where he was tinkering with some circuit
boards, to see the boy.
Tony
looked from the boy to his quick lunch off to the side:
a tuna melt with a Perrier.
“I see you joined Oprah’s Book of the Month club.”
Jimmy
wiped at his eyes, but still he reclined on the floor, rolling
his toes in the lush carpet. “Oh, man.
This is great. Have you read this?”
Tony
frowned. “I got the Cliff’s Notes version.
Which chapter are you on?”
“Thirty-one. Chronicling the years 1990 to 1994. You should listen to some of the stuff Morgan
says about your relationship with Bill Clinton.
Says here ‘Tony always gave Clinton a box of cigars for Christmas, obviously
indicative of some understanding between them of mutual extracurricular
activities…with each other.’ What was the
big deal with this Clinton guy anyways?”
Tony
looked up sharply. “What? It
does not say that!”
“Bwahahahaha~!” Jimmy sat up, and had to wipe his eyes. “I know.
I added that last part. But the look on your face was hilarious.”
Tony
frowned, and looked up from the market report that sat opposite
his lunch and circuit board. He slapped the report down on his desk. There was no way he was going to be able to
give any of this serious thought.
Not with Jimmy around.
Jimmy had lightened up considerably in recent weeks, considering
that he had decided to remain in this timeline with no hope of
seeing the people he loved ever again. One would think the boy might have a harder
time adjusting.
But
the exact opposite was true. And
Tony wasn’t sure if that was because he was doing a good job as
a father—or if that meant Jimmy was trying hard to be a good son.
Jimmy
tried to control his chuckling. “Oh, Dad, seriously, though,”
standing, he continued, “Rumiko called earlier.
Said she couldn’t get through on your cell, so she called
my armor’s line just after that bank business. I told her you were in conference. Seemed kinda
miffed at you.”
Tony
rubbed her sinuses. He
sighed, “I haven’t called her in three days.”
“Eh,
you’re a busy man.” Jimmy walked over to the desk, eying the untouched
tuna melt.
Tony
laughed. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.
That was my son—expert on the woman’s psyche.”
Jimmy
rolled his eyes. “It’s not like you’re trying to avoid her or
anything! With all that Avengers business in California, and not to mention the Jade Island—are you going to eat that?” He motioned toward the
tuna melt.
Tony
shook his head and handed the sandwich to him.
Jimmy took a bite out of it, and continued, “Look, man,
even I’ve noticed it. You got behind on a few things, so now you have
to get caught up. I mean,
I get it. Saving the world, playing with your new armor,
obviously there’s a lot to distract a dude. But what does she expect? It’s not like she’s your wife or anything.”
Tony’s
frown returned. He raised
his hands in mock surrender. “Okay,
Jim, I get it. Thank you for the pep talk.”
Jimmy
took another bite. “Well, just look at that bank business today.
There was no way you’d have gotten to that in time. It’s the reason you hired Britannia, and Bill.
You can’t handle all this yourself AND have a successful
relationship.” He pointed
at the Perrier. “Are you gonna drink that?”
Tony
shook his head slowly. He
kept staring at his son. “I hired Bill to look over the business. And it was his suggestion that we on-board Britannia.
The man had a soft spot after being held captive with her.
But I do appreciate the work you did today.”
“Thanks. So, with that in mind, I was thinking,” Jimmy
paused to swig the bottle and said, “You could use some positive
press. Honestly, that thing at the bank today is only
going to distance you further from what Morgan keeps saying about
you on Fox News. You could
make a lot of money with this whole hero thing.”
Tony
smirked. “I know where you’re going with this.
The answer is no.”
Jimmy
put on an innocent face. “What?
We’ve got the resources, why not use them?
Just a small strikeforce—Goliath,
Britannia and Iron Man. We can turn
this robbery incident into a huge publicity campaign! Think of it:
Iron Man endorsing Stark shoes, all profit going to charity,
of course. Bill would be a huge icon to poor, Black youth—no pun intended—”
Tony
shook his head and stood from his desk. “No, no, no.
Don’t you think I’ve already thought about this?
Using Iron Man as a mascot?
Like he was Mickey Mouse or something?
I’m not gonna do that, Jimmy.”
“Why?”
Jimmy threw his hands in the air and let them slap his sides.
Tony
looked at him sharply. “Because I said so!”
Jimmy
made a sour face. “Daaaad! That is sooo not a
good reason!”
Tony
smirked again, “Oh, get over it.
I have my reasons. Too many to list right now.”
Jimmy
sucked his teeth. Tony
was on his way out of the library, but he turned around one more
time.
“One
reason being,” Tony wagged a finger at him, “that I just don’t
have time. If I barely have time to call my girlfriend,
how can I have time to do what you’re suggesting?”
Jimmy
smiled. “Dad…I wasn’t suggesting that you’d be in the Iron Man
suit.”
Tony
frowned. “Well…then who? Who
else is qualified to—oh no, you don’t think—”
The
smile on Jimmy’s face got wider. “I think it’s about time I learned.”
“I
don’t think so!”
“Ohhhh
come on, Dad! Just let
me take it out for a spin! I’m
so good at it!”
“You’ll
crash it the second you take off.
Your armor is probably more advanced than mine anyways.”
“I
will not crash it!”
“Just
so you can go out and what? Pick
up girls? I was your age once, Jimmy,
I know what’s on your mind.”
Jimmy
looked wounded. His jaw hung agape like it was broken. “Oh, my God. I cannot
believe you just said that. I’m
of legal age to drive! And
I just broke up with my deranged girlfriend from the future!
I’m old enough to be respons—”
“You’re
not taking the armor. End
of story.” Tony threw a hand in the air, and then went back to
exiting the library.
Overly
large, needlessly thick doors slammed after him, leaving Jimmy
alone in the cavern of literature.
He turned around and kicked Morgan Stark’s fairytale.
It bounced off the floor, then
bounced off the massive sofa, to rest on the floor again.
Jimmy
sighed. “Well shit.”
“This is Miss Fujikawa.”
“Are you working? Do you always answer
your phone like that?”
“Tony, it’s almost midnight here.”
“Where’s here?”
“Jakarta. Did you need something?”
“I’m just reminding you it’s
time for your midnight snack. If I know you well enough, there’s
a bowl of red M&Ms in your bedside drawer.”
“…”
“Did you eat them already?”
“…yes.”
“You were awake, eating them, before I
even called, weren’t you?”
“Did you need something, Mister Stark?”
“Were you awake…watching the phone?
Waiting for me to call?”
“Pfft. Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Why then?”
“I thought you might be someone calling
about my father.”
“What about your father?”
“You haven’t heard? I’m
going to have to finish up this trip without him. His blood pressure’s
way too high. I’m having him flown back to Osaka in the
morning to be looked over by my doctors. Daddy’s been acting
funny lately—”
“I see. Huh. So…you’re finishing
up the business then.”
“Well…not like I have a choice.”
“But it was your father’s choice—to
have you finish up the trip?”
“And what’s that supposed to
mean?”
“It means I know the elder Mister Fujikawa.
He’s more than competent enough to finish a business trip,
and then go to the doctor’s. As a matter of fact, I believe
he would have insisted upon it. Hell, he’d have the doctor
brought to him.”
“What are you trying to say, Tony?”
“I don’t know, Rumi. Maybe your father
knew what I was going to have to do to the Jakarta project.”
“…what are you doing, Tony? The
deal is pretty much sealed—”
“It’s not. We’re dropping it.
I just had a meeting with the board of trustees. They’re
worried about the Jade Island. Stocks are dropping farther the
longer that thing sits over Asia. Investors around the globe are
losing confidence in one of the fastest emerging markets. I need
all the money and resources I can gather to—”
“Tony, this project would have built
dams and floodgates to help protect poor people all over Southeast
Asia during tsunami season. It would have repaired roads and set
up emergency telephone lines. You’re just going to shelf
it? You can’t!”
“I can, Rumiko. I’ve called up the
partners we’re working with—including Rand and Mys-Tech—and
they’ve agreed to focus their energies on helping us with
the Jade Island. The Jakarta project was falling behind schedule
and ahead of budget. I’m sorry you had to find out about
it like this. Better now than tomorrow morning when you walk into
Rand Corporation Asia and—”
“Of all the arrogant, self-focused—”
“Don’t you see, Rumiko? Your father
wanted this to—”
“My father is almost eighty years old,
Tony! This is mostly likely one of the last projects he’s
ever going to champion. And what do you do? You push him aside
so you focus on your toys—focus on that floating fantasy
island!”
“Rumiko, that’s not fair. I—”
“Oh shut up. You haven’t had
time for me at all in recent weeks, going off God knows where
in your armor, and I don’t know if I’m ever going
to see you again! When I finally start focusing on something else,
you just had to put the focus back on Iron Man, didn’t you?”
“Rumiko—”
“Good night, Mister Stark!”
*CLICK.*
Echoes bounced off thick glass and linoleum.
He was alone in the hallway, and was not appreciating the vast
loneliness portrayed: high vaulted ceiling, long picturesque window
with a view of Seattle unparalleled, and he was the only one walking.
His hands were in his pockets. His face watched the tile pass
under his feet.
Loneliness? Tony Stark was never alone.
“Hello, Jocasta,” he said to nobody,
not looking up. “I know you’re watching me. You know
I don’t like it when you hide from me.”
A
few more echoes bounced before there came an answer. “Hello,
Tony. I’m glad to see you survived your board meeting.”
The voice came from nowhere, but echoed just as loud as his footsteps.
Tony sighed. “Yeah. Do you have the schedule
for tomorrow? I know I’m supposed to be meeting with Stane’s
people sometime before lunch…what was the name of that lady
that called from the Better Business Bureau? And get me on the
phone with Paramount Pictures, I hear they want to option Morgan’s
book for a made-for-TV movie and I need to squash that before—”
“Tony?”
Tony stopped walking and replied, “Yes?”
“Your
heart rate and brain patterns are a bit irregular. You also seem
to be dehydrated. My sensors are indicating a physical state suggesting
an emotional state of anger—”
“Thank you, Jocasta!” Tony interrupted,
“But I didn’t ask for my medical history! It would
be great if I could just have tomorrow’s schedule! I’ll
let you know if I need anything else.”
Tony only heard his own footsteps until he reached
the end of the hall, and the thick glass doors of his office.
He bit his lip and forced the doors open more harshly than he
needed to.
There were hardcopies of the next day’s
schedule lying freshly in his printer’s output tray.
Sighing, and shaking his head at himself, he
walked over his office’s mini-bar and pulled a bottled water
from the fridge. He cracked the lid and drank half of it in a
few long gulps.
He thought about Jimmy, and hoped he wasn’t
too hard on him earlier. After what kind of ordeal Jimmy had been
through, Tony knew the boy deserved a chance at a calm life. But
Tony would always have responsibilities as Iron Man—which
conflicted with every notion of giving his…well, his son,
let’s face it, giving his son a chance at a normal life
in this day and age. Jimmy was doing everything he could to impress
him, to be the good son. But his father…his Tony…was
the President of the United States. President and Iron Man at
the same time? And Tony found himself trying to fill the boy’s
image of a man that didn’t even exist, and never might.
He thought about Rumiko and the conversation
they’d just had. He looked at his watch. No good apologizing,
Rumiko would be fast asleep by now. It was the middle of the night
in Jakarta. Even if she wasn’t asleep there was no way she’d
pick up his call this time. Now, his stomach really sank.
Tony loved her. That much was true by the tightness
in his chest. He loved her…and admired her? Yes, that was
true too. There was no one more loyal, more seductive, more—powerful?
Rumiko was Tony’s equal. Was that why Tony was attracted
to her? Was that why he felt threatened by her relationship with
her father? That he would lose the power he felt just walking
into his corporate skyscraper? Or was it possible he was afraid…afraid
of losing her to her father.
No. He loved her.
Tony downed the rest of the water bottle like
a shot of whiskey.
Then he heard Jocasta again. He kept himself
from looking startled.
“Tony—”
“Jocasta,” Tony took a deep breath,
“look, I’m sorry I raised my voice earlier. You were
just trying to help.” Tony waved his arms around, knowing
Jocasta could see him, even if he couldn’t see her. “Thanks
for…telling me I was dehydrated. I feel better after that
water. And thanks for the schedule. You know I’d be so lost
without you.”
There was a silence. Tony stood, arcing his head
slightly in the deafness, expecting an answer.
Jocasta was not quick to reply. But she did.
“Thank
you, Tony. Apology accepted. It’s wise to suggest that you
eat a full meal as well before continuing on to the American Heart
Association gala you’re attending tonight. But I actually
have a more urgent message for you.”
Tony
frowned. “And what’s that?”
“Dum-Dum
Dugan is on line one. It’s about the Jade Empire.”
To
be continued...
Iron
Filings
Welcome to our first issue of Iron Man. Thanks
for reading. It’s been a while coming, but we’ve finally
got this thing off the ground. We’ve done a lot of research
into what’s happened to Tony in the M2K-verse, and we’re
confident we can live up to the title’s rich history. So
stay tuned!
-Ben
and Zach
|
