"Four seconds, Barrett... 853 meters per second... So you were 2,500 meters out?" Tony shook his head. "You couldn't pick a closer rooftop?"
"We didn't have clear intel. If I got too close and you went hostile, I'd be dead. When you showed up, I figured armor-piercing rounds wouldn't cut through your suit."
"Smart. And damn, that was a clean shot. Good thing you're not an enemy."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James declined Stark's offer to fly him down and climbed down the building himself. A moment later, Tony touched down beside Pepper who was waiting for him outside the Energy Center, who immediately ran over and hugged him. Phil Coulson was already on the phone, coordinating cleanup and backup.
Pepper looked over at James. "Tony, this is the guy who took the shot. He saved your life."
"Oh, this is the sniper?" Tony turned to James pretending ignorant with a raised brow, then offered a thumbs-up. "No wonder you nailed that shot from 2,500 meters out. Definitely ace material." he says in a joking tone, clearly setting the mood to lighten up.
James gave a small shrug. "Intern, technically."
Tony grinned. "Right, intern with anti-materiel rifles. I had a plan, you know. Overload the arc reactor, blow the roof — boom, problem solved."
"Sure," James said. "Except now the roof's still intact, and your stocks didn't tank. That's a win in my book."
"Speaking of which…" Pepper turned toward Stark, clearly trying to rein him in. "Tony, maybe tomorrow you can announce that Stark Industries is exiting the weapons business—for real this time. Help the public calm down."
James jumped in. "Exactly. A formal statement at a press conference. It'll restore confidence and stabilize the company."
Tony nodded. "Already planning on it. No more baby boom for military contracts — we're officially retiring from that mess."
James blinked. "That was a weird metaphor."
"Oh, Mr. James, please," Pepper groaned. "The stock's finally starting to recover. Let's not crash it again."
"Relax. It'll bounce back. Besides…" Tony turned to James. "You're a shareholder?"
"Yep. Four million shares. Was about to buy another million, but the price ticked up. Didn't seem worth it. All I need is a short dip tomorrow, and I'll snag them at the price I want."
Tony chuckled. "Are all agents dipping into stock investments now? Or are you just betting heavy on me?"
"Just confident. With your brain running the show, Stark Industries has nowhere to go but up."
Tony turned to Pepper. "See? Even a stranger believes in me. You hear that, ms. Potts?"
Pepper gave him a look. "You're both insane."
Tony smirked. "James—two minutes. You've got two minutes tomorrow to grab your stocks at bargain rates."
James smiled faintly. "Appreciated."
With the chaos winding down, James returned to his car and left unnoticed. His part was done.
Back at the penthouse, Carlos was stirring something in a skillet.
"You're back? How'd it go?" he asked as James walked in with his gear.
"Successful. Stark's alive. Big tin guy's down. And if all goes to plan, we'll pick up another million shares tomorrow morning."
Carlos gaved a wide grin. "We're drinking tonight, then."
The next morning, James was already at the dining table before breakfast, scrolling through stock tickers on his laptop. He hadn't even washed up yet before immediately logging in to his computer.
Carlos handed over a glass of milk. "How's it looking?"
James sipped. "The dip's here. Panic selling from small investors. Stark's press conference is going to drop it further — no more weapons production, plus all the chaos last night? It's a textbook show."
Carlos leaned back. "You've only got $60 million left. Want me to throw in ten?"
"No need. I'm just looking to buy a million more shares. That'll leave us plenty of cash for the boat and backup funds."
They watched the price tick down slowly.
At 10:00 AM sharp, the Stark Industries press conference began. Colonel Rhodes opened the remarks. James leaned in, fingers ready at the keyboard.
Tony stepped up to the podium.
"First off, I'm officially back at the helm of Stark Industries. Second — and more importantly — we're done making weapons. That's not who we are anymore."
James glanced at his watch. "One minute and… go."
Tony paused, clearly buying time.
Reporters stirred, cameras clicked.
James clicked his mouse.
1,000,000 shares purchased at $35.50.
Balance left: $24.5 million.
A moment later, Tony spoke again. "Alright, now let's begin."
James smiled to himself. Deal complete. Stark had bought him the window. Confidence — earned.
His phone rang.
"Phil?"
"The Director wants to see you. I've sent the address to your phone."
"This isn't a mission, right?"
"No. Just a meetup."
James headed to his room, changed into a dark suit—no tie—and holstered his Beretta 92F and M1911 beneath his jacket along with the long and short dagger.
"I'm meeting the Director," he told Carlos as he passed by. "How's the flower shop looking?"
"Still in teardown. A few weeks before it's ready." Carlos grabbed his coat. "I'll go check on it today."
"Let's head down together."
James took his Audi R8 and followed the GPS location given to him. The destination wasn't in the city. Eventually, it led him to a military airfield just outside the New York metro zone.
A man in a long coat with one visible eye came out to greet him.
"Wesley Gibson, a pleasure to meet you. Names Nick Fury. Director of SHIELD. You can leave your car here. We're heading to California."
James handed off the keys without question, straightened his jacket, and boarded a sleek private jet.
Inside, it was SHIELD-stylish: a twin engine jet, clean leather seats, and minimal cabin staff. Fury sat across from him with arms crossed.
"What's in California?" James asked.
Fury got straight to it. "Tony Stark just told the world he's Iron Man."
James blinked. "Yeah, I caught that."
"Stock's already rebounding," Fury added. "Looks like you made a nice profit."
"Wasn't bad," James replied, sipping the in-flight drinks. "But Stark's looking cocky again. Thought that might bother you."
"It does. And his health is deteriorating. But we're heading there to discuss something... bigger."
James raised an eyebrow. "This isn't just a check-in, is it?"
Fury leaned forward. "We're going to talk about… the Avengers Initiative."
James stared at him.
"With me?" he asked flatly. "I'm just an intern."
Fury smirked. "For now."