Carlos dove headfirst into planning. For the first time in years, he looked genuinely excited. James, meanwhile, had SHIELD duties to prepare for. Otherwise, he would've been browsing boat dealerships or mapping out fishing trips already.
But for now? He was just glad his dad had something to look forward to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hello, this is Phil. Get to the Stark Industrial Energy Center immediately. GPS Location has been sent to your phone. Bring all your equipment."
James, who had been waiting on standby for days, finally got the call.
He opened the armory, changed into a black training suit and tactical boots, then grabbed his gear before heading for the elevator. Downstairs, he loaded up the chevy and drove out.
As he drove, he slipped in his earpiece, opened the message on his phone, and downloaded the GPS file. A map popped up instantly with a red pin marking the location.
"Glad we finally have smartphones these days," James muttered, then focused on driving.
By the time he arrived at Stark Industrial Energy Center, the sky was darkening. No sign of Phil at the entrance yet.
He parked, popped the trunk, strapped on a tactical vest, and holstered his gear. He brought his Beretta, his carbine, and loaded up. They'd be useful for close-range threats — but if Iron Man was involved, he needed range. Real range.
He looked across the street. The office building nearby had potential. High enough to see the scene, close enough to control the shot. His AWP sniper rifle would work well here… but it was also too exposed.
He scanned the surroundings using a military-grade rangefinding binocular. The kind that could calculate distance, elevation, and angle.
Then he spotted it — a commercial mid-rise about 2,500 meters out. Not tall, maybe twelve stories, but clean line of sight. And best of all? Hidden. No chance of being spotted unless someone was actively looking for him.
"Far, but manageable," James muttered. "And if I miss, hey — I'm just an intern agent."
He packed up the gear and moved to the rear of the building to wait. No reason to kick the door in unless things got ugly.
Soon, a silver Audi sedan pulled up in front of his car. James stepped out instinctively — just as Pepper Potts climbed out, only to stop short in alarm.
Before she could panic, Phil Coulson got out from the passenger side.
"Don't worry. This is our Bureau's ace agent," Phil said calmly. "He's here as backup."
James raised an eyebrow. Ace? Really?
"I'm an intern, actually," he muttered under his breath. "ID says so. Big letters."
"Agent Wesley, find a spot to provide overwatch," Phil ordered, brushing past the awkwardness.
"I already have one, and please call me James, Wesley's long gone" James replied. "2,500 meters out. Excellent view of the area. If things go sideways, I can provide long-range support. But if you need to evacuate, don't wait — just go."
"Two-thousand five-hundred meters?!" Pepper blurted. "How is that support? Shouldn't he be with us?!"
James shrugged. "Ace agent, remember?" he said flatly, casting a glance at Phil. "Distance means nothing."
"Let's move," Phil said, sidestepping the debate. "We'll update you once inside."
James got back in the chevy and drove to his vantage point. The commercial building's security was light. He pulled into a side lot, got out, grabbed his rifle case, and walked inside without worry.
The security guards froze at the sight of a man in tactical gear carrying a weapon case.
"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division," James said, flashing his S.H.I.E.L.D ID. The eagle badge made them stand a little straighter. "I'm requisitioning your rooftop."
"Y-Yes, sir!" one stammered, stepping aside.
As James stepped into the elevator, another guard leaned over to his partner.
"Should we call the cops?"
"Are you crazy? He said the government. Just stay out of it. Cameras caught it — we're covered."
Up on the rooftop, James opened his gear case and began assembling the Barrett M82A1 anti-materiel rifle. He loaded alternating armor-piercing and standard rounds into the magazine, then clipped the bipod to the rooftop ledge. A long-range optical scope followed — purely analog, with no digital features.
"I don't know what Stark's suit can pick up, but I'm not broadcasting anything extra," James muttered.
He brought the scope to his eye and connected with Cortana.
[Reading temperature, humidity, wind resistance… Calculating correction factors…]
"Adjust as needed. Let me know if variables shift," James replied, turning the elevation and windage dials according to Cortana's inputs. No night vision — the Energy Center was well-lit enough. He wanted pure visibility, with no filters.
Minutes passed in silence.
"Why hasn't it started yet?" James mumbled. "They've been in there forever."
Just then, Pepper Potts exited the building. She looked tense, pacing, talking into her phone. James tapped his earpiece.
"Phil, you still there?"
A dry cough answered. "Yeah. Just… not loving what I'm seeing. Big guy's about to exit. Can that rifle of yours punch through Iron Man's armor?"
"Which one?" James asked, scanning the scope. "Because there's a very big one coming up behind Pepper right now…"
Out from beneath the Energy Center's ground came a hulking silver Iron Man suit — Obadiah Stane's Iron Monger.
But James didn't pull the trigger. Not yet.
A blur, streaked across his scope — Tony Stark, in the red-and-gold armor, flying straight into the fray.
"Oh. Okay. The small guy's here. Just body-checked the big guy like a football tackle. They're going at it in the driveway now. Oh—yep, a car just flew."
"Agent James," Phil interrupted. "I don't need a play-by-play. Focus on your target. Shoot if you get the chance. I need to check on Ms. Potts."
James squinted. "You might wanna evacuate the whole site. That arc reactor is basically a giant electromagnet with a bad attitude. Two Iron Men brawling around it is a recipe for turning this place into a crater."
"Noted. Evacuating now." Phil's comm cut out.
James stayed behind the scope, calm and ready. But deep down, he doubted even an armor-piercing round could do much unless the helmet came off.
Out of the corner of his view, he saw Pepper waving frantically in his direction. Then she pointed toward the two clashing Iron Men.
Message was clear. Take the shot.
James didn't budge.
"Sorry, lady," he muttered. "Still an intern."