Tony Stark had finally figured it out.
Dragging this out any longer changed nothing. It would not get him out of the hole he was in. It would not improve his chances. At best, it just kept him trapped in the sa rotten cycle.
Better to take control of the situation himself.
These terrorists probably could not read half the labels on their own weapons, anyway. He could stall them, play along, and once the suit was finished, he would break out of this place in one clean strike.
Drex Valen's War Machine had already proven what a weapon like that could do. It had shown its value in real combat. That was why so many people wanted it. Tony had seen the results with his own eyes. Even if the Iron Suit he was building in this miserable hole would not be as powerful as Drex's War Machine, it would still be more than enough to crush these terrorists.
Still, Drex found himself wondering about one thing.
The first Mark I had no real shock absorption system. So how had Tony survived that fall from so high up?
Or had Tony sohow hamred one together inside that cave, piece by piece, with nothing but scrap tal and stubbornness?
That was a little too magical. No, too sci-fi. Actually, too insane.
Since the new elent incident, Drex had been paying close attention to Tony Stark. He had expected a few things to challenge his worldview. This was already the second.
"Make things harder for him," Drex ordered the beast soldiers on the other end. "Do not let this go too smoothly. I do not want him getting out too fast."
"Boss," one of the beast soldiers said with obvious hesitation, "how exactly are we supposed to do that?"
They knew one thing only. Tony Stark was not to be killed. Beyond that, they had no instructions.
Drex did not mind spelling it out.
"For example," he said, "just as he is about to finish the Iron Suit, another group of terrorists attacks the place. Yinsen dies in the attack. The suit gets blown up by accident. Tony Stark gets captured again. The first group gets wiped out completely. Then, when you recognize Tony Stark, you tell him to keep building the Iron Suit."
That, to Drex, was hardly complicated.
He had just laid out a whole repeatable script.
If Yinsen died, so be it. Tony would still beco a hero. Then Drex could just arrange for another Yinsen.
During this sa period, terrorist attacks were becoming more frequent and more severe.
The Mandarin of the Ten Rings publicly claid responsibility for them.
What frustrated the United States most was that at every blast site, they found no trace of explosive residue and no bomb fragnts at all. Normally, no matter how powerful the explosion, so material would survive. Even a nuclear detonation could not erase every last trace. There was always sothing left behind to analyze, so remnant that could lead investigators back to the device and the people carrying it.
But they had no such luck here.
What they did not realize was that these incidents were not really coordinated terrorism in the first place. They were accidents. Killian and his people had no real intention of mounting a grand terrorist campaign. What happened was that when they tried to stabilize the Extremis subjects and experintal hosts with too much of the drug, the dosage was pushed beyond safe limits. The stable Extremis beings beca unstable, and the result was a massive explosion.
Even if every second of it had been recorded on perfect surveillance, they still would not have found a real terrorist.
Killian had simply pinned his experintal disasters on a fabricated Mandarin and turned him into the face of a terrorist movent.
The United States, anwhile, had decided the Mandarin was one of the most terrifying terrorists in history, right up there with that infamous dead one whose na nobody liked to say out loud.
They were sure he had a professional intelligence network behind him, along with a team of operatives on the ground. So officials even suspected that a huge portion of the world's top rcenaries might already be working for him.
What they could not understand was why he kept choosing places full of ordinary civilians. Why not target wealthy districts instead?
Did he not realize that if the Mandarin ever hit Wall Street, the United States would be on the verge of breaking apart?
In response, Arica increased security around Wall Street and most wealthy neighborhoods.
Blade Technology Industries also ca under heavy scrutiny.
Drex, who knew exactly what was going on, was not worried in the slightest.
He also had no intention of letting Killian keep causing trouble.
Drex was not a saint. He was not so shining superhero on a white horse. But he was still a person. And as a person, he would do what he could when the situation allowed it.
So Drex used his psychic power to take control of Killian, then had him captured and thrown into a small black room.
He planned to release him only after Tony Stark returned.
Killian was put into a state like the Winter Soldier's: a frozen, sleeping condition, sealed by Drex's freezing breath and kept in a permanent cold-storage environnt.
"Bronski."
Drex found Bronski soon after.
"Boss." Bronski straightened imdiately.
He had no idea why Drex had co looking for him, but he sincerely hoped it was not for another sparring session. The stronger Drex beca, the more hopeless those sessions felt. Bronski had already reached the point where he thought Drex might be able to beat him without even lifting a hand.
"Relax," Drex said calmly. "I am not here to train with you."
Bronski blinked, then exhaled a little. He figured his face must have given him away.
Drex had no intention of telling him the real reason. A boss who could read his subordinates' minds would create a very unhealthy atmosphere.
His psychic strength had grown enough to let him slip into other people's minds and sense their thoughts. It was basically a crude version of telepathy, a rough mirror of what Professor X could do. For now, though, it only worked on people weaker than him.
Even so, it was a nasty tool.
Against weaker enemies, he could control the whole battlefield and never worry about being sward.
"Bronski, do you want to get stronger?"
Drex had no interest in checking Bronski's inner thoughts any longer, so he just asked the question directly.
Bronski's eyes lit up at once.
He thought another promotion was coming.
What ca after Super Beast Soldier? Super Beast Soldier Plus? Super Ultimate Beast Soldier? Cosmic Invincible Final Beast Soldier?
"Of course I do, Boss," Bronski said, thumping a fist against his chest.
There was no man who did not want power.
Bronski wanted it more than most. He had given up almost everything else for it. No won. No marriage. No distractions. Just power, clean and simple. That made him both easy to use and very effective.
"Then I'll give you a way to earn it," Drex said.
He told Bronski to return to Great Britain and beco a super soldier there. With his current enhanced body, that would be easy enough. Then, after a few years, Great Britain would loan him to General Ross.
From there, he would be sent after the Hulk.
And when the ti ca, Bronski would bring back the Super Soldier Serum and the Hulk Serum.
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