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Iron Wrench, Metal Gear
🕑 Added 2022-02-28 19:53:53 +0000 UTCKingZephyr wanted to see an Avenger have a run in with Senator Armstrong of Metal Gear.
X
Sometimes, Tony considered just how bad it would really be if he took over the US, just seized control. It wouldn’t be hard. Sure, Pepper wouldn’t talk to him for a week, and he’d be on nappy duty full time, but -
“Mr Stark, would you answer the question?”
Tony jerked in his seat. “What, it’s my turn to talk? Sorry, your droning put me to sleep. What was the question?”
The Senator from Texas fumed from his position behind the bench, apparently having thought his speech worth paying attention to. The six other Senators chairing the questioning/interrogation/complaining/bitching/moaning/etc board frowned at him in censure.
“Mr Stark -”
“No, I’m sorry, it was my fault, don’t apologise,” Tony said. “I genuinely wasn’t listening.”
“- you don’t appear to be taking this seriously -”
“My toddler is past the babbling stage so I thought I’d be able to engage with you, but I guess not.”
“- or with the level of concern that the topic deserves,” the Senator from Ohio finished.
Tony stared up at the bench, cheek squished by the fist he was resting his head against. The silence stretched out.
The Senator from Florida broke first. “Mr Stark?”
“What was the question?”
Titters came from the gallery. This little inquisition couldn’t close the proceedings to the public, even if they had learned their lesson enough to bar the media. Well, joke was on them, his glasses were streaming it all anyway. Time delayed, but still.
“Do you think it ethical to withhold such a potentially useful humanitarian technology from the state in its time of need?” Florida repeated for Texas, who was still fuming.
Tony looked from one old man to another. “No, I don’t think it’s ethical at all.”
Texas leaned in, grinning like he’d scored some sort of point. “Then why do you refuse to give the government access to the Iron Man technology?”
“Wait, I thought we were talking about humanitarian tech?” Tony said, acting confused. The thought that these useless blowhards had made it through the snap when others hadn - he cut the intrusive thought off.
“The Iron Man technology has the potential to be the greatest humanitarian tool of the age, Mr Stark,” Illinois said. “We saw its benefits in the weeks and months after The Snap in the efforts of your ‘Iron Legion’.”
Tony took his time replying, staring at the man who had brought up the Snap. The mood of the courtroom shifted. No one liked to be reminded of something that already dogged their thoughts and souls almost every waking hour. “Iron Man isn’t a humanitarian tool. It’s a weapon.”
“I thought it was a prosthesis,” Nevada said, leaning back in his chair.
“It was,” Tony said. He offered nothing more.
“Mr Stark, a private citizen cannot be allowed to own a weapon of such potency,” Washington said. “Are you sure this is the argument you wish to make?”
Clearing his throat, Tony leaned closer to his mic. “I have a permit,” he said.
“A permit,” Nevada said. “For the Iron Man suit.”
“Yep.” He quashed the urge to fiddle with his phone. If he took it out of his pocket he’d end up commandeering every speaker in the room to play a slowly loudening Rick Roll, and Pepper would grump at him.
The Senator from Colorado, silent so far, snorted a laugh. He received irritated looks from a few of his fellows, but ignored them, seemingly content to chew on his unlit cigar.
Texas was scowling again. “I know you don’t have much respect for the representatives of this country, but please, try to -”
“Hey, remember how last time we did this song and dance, it turned out the leader of the whole thing was a Hydra agent?” Tony asked, innocent as sin.
There was silence.
“Unless Mr Stark can produce evidence of this ‘permit’, I don’t see that we need to humour this line of inquiry further,” Ohio said.
“Sure, call the President,” Tony said.
“Excuse me?”
“Call the President,” Tony repeated. It was like these people thought he’d leave any avenue of attack on him and his open. “I’ll wait.”
Some of the Senators were starting to realise that they had been able to arrange this hearing with less opposition than they had expected for a reason, but others clearly doubted him.
“We’ll have a one hour recess while we investigate Mr Stark’s ‘claims’,” Florida said, taking up the gavel.
Tony was already on his feet and leaving, uncaring of protocol. The gavel banged loudly as he pushed through the doors, making for the waiting room that had been put aside for him. He was missing Bluey with Morgan for this.
X
The waiting room was utterly forgettable, identical to a thousand other ‘tastefully decorated’ rooms that were always found near the halls of power, full of beige and with some bland paintings on the walls. Tony sank into a cushioned seat at the end of a long wooden table and plucked his phone from his pocket.
“Friday, how’s the homefront looking?” he asked.
“Little miss has just gone down for a nap, and Mrs Boss is reading a book,” Friday answered from his phone’s speakers. “Shall I connect you?”
“No, leave them be,” Tony said. He swiped through a few feeds on his phone, lingering on Pepper for a moment before stopping on his greatest creation. His daughter was sleeping soundly, giraffe plush gripped tightly. He smiled, sparing a glance for the readout of the baby monitor. The ‘baby monitor’ he had designed was probably overkill, and could definitely conquer a small nation on its own, but Pepper hadn’t blinked twice at it.
A knock on the door at the other end of the room had him dismissing the feed, and it was a familiar figure that entered, not waiting for a response. The Senator from Colorado was a broad man, and thickset, even more than some others Tony had once known.
“Dr Stark,” the man said, gesturing with his unlit cigar, “you mind if I take a seat?”
“Senator Armstrong,” Tony said. “Seat yourself. No ‘Mr’ for me?”
Armstrong took a seat halfway down the table. “I believe a man ought to be acknowledged for his achievements.”
“You’re too kind,” Tony said. “Did Frank get back to you already?”
“The President’s Office has that Texan blowhard on hold,” Armstrong said, chuckling. “No, I came to speak to you about this clown show away from the cameras.”
“Here to make me an offer?” Tony asked, smiling sardonically.
“We’re both men of action, so I won’t beat around the bush,” Armstrong said. “I want to support you in sticking it to those blueblood pansies.”
“Interesting perspective, from someone on the same committee,” Tony said.
“I’m not the only one,” Armstrong said. “That bleeding heart liberal from Washington only put his hat in the ring to make sure they didn’t get anywhere, but even he got nervous when you called your suit what it is.”
“Uh huh,” Tony said. “But not you.”
“Hahahah! Look at me, beating around the bush, right after I said I wouldn’t,” Armstrong said, bringing his mirth under control. “You gave a suit to Colonel Rhodes once. What would it take for you to give out more?”
“I don’t believe that would help the world with the challenges it faces right now,” Tony said. He’d given two suits out, and they hadn’t done enough for their wearers, even if he’d had thoughts about a third.
Armstrong fell quiet at his denial, but only for a moment. “You know, when I played college ball, Coach had a saying,” Armstrong said. “He said, ‘you can win together, or you can lose together, and only one needs teamwork.’.”
“Sounds like a swell guy,” Tony said. He thought he sounded like someone trying to imitate Steve, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud.
“He was! I could have gone pro with him at my back, you know,” Armstrong said. He levelled a gaze over his glasses at Tony. “I want to be that guy at your back, Stark.”
Tony had always looked down on the idea that someone could sense trouble with something as indefinable as ‘gut instinct’, but he’d picked something up in his years wearing the suit, and it was starting to sit up and pay attention. “How about you tell me what you really want.”
“What I really want?” Armstrong asked, chewing on his cigar. “Let me be honest then. I have a dream!”
‘Oh Christ,’ Tony thought to himself.
“I dream that one day, every person in this nation will control their OWN destiny. A land of the truly free, dammit. A nation of action, not words. Ruled by strength, not committee!” The senator jabbed a finger at Tony. “And that’s why I want you not to hand over the Iron Man to some limp wristed suit where the beancounters will haggle over how it’ll be used, but to release it open source to every American!”
“Yeah, that’s a hard no from me, Senator,” Tony said. What the hell were they putting in the water in Colorado.
“Think about it Stark,” Armstrong said, letting a heavy fist thud onto the table. “America is a crippled beast, and crippled beasts need to be put down - to clear the way for something new! That purple ballsack bastard hit us, but he also gave us an opportunity, the opportunity to evolve, and an Iron Man suit for every citizen is how we seize it!”
Tony placed his phone on the table, angling it towards the nearby door. Just in case.
“Senator, with all the respect your idea deserves-” i.e. none “-not a chance in hell.”
Armstrong stared at him, his joviality and charisma fading. “Well, if that’s the way it has to be then.” Black tendrils began to crawl up his neck, and across his cheek.
Tony had seen enough to know where this was going. “Yeah, nope.” He tapped his chest twice, activating his suit. But it wasn’t to be.
Green sparks showered the wooden table as Armstrong reached towards him, excess energy from the vector of whatever it was the soon to be ex-senator was doing to stop his suit from working.
“You’re not the only one who can play with nanomachines, son,” Armstrong said, chewing his cigar with a smug grin. “Without your suit you’re just a man, and I can tear any man in half with my own two hands!” He put a fist easily through the solid wood table, showing off his strength.
Maybe one day his enemies would stop assuming he was a one trick pony. “Any man?” Tony asked. The closest door clicked open, and a familiar figure stepped through.
“Tony,” Steve Rogers said. He was wearing an LA Dodgers ballcap, and he tilted it back, taking his hands from the pockets of his hoodie. “You rang?”
“Here I thought you two were having a couple’s squabble!” Armstrong said.
“Well, you know how it is,” Tony said. His tone was light, but he looked away from the supersoldier in the doorway.
“I always relished the thought of going mano a mano against you, Cap!” Armstrong said, rising to his feet. “You’re a true American!” He rushed forwards, fist cocked back to deliver a punishing blow.
Steve’s feet hardly moved as he turned and shifted, easily slipping out of the path of every heavy blow. “Come on, put your back into it,” he said.
Armstrong grew irritated with his slippery foe, drawing back for a moment. “If you won’t stand and fight, I’ll make you!” He settled into a low stance, spreading his arms, and rushed forwards to seize Steve in a crushing bearhug - only to pass through him like he wasn’t even there. “What?!?”
Tony’s phone beeped, even as Steve and the open door wavered and disappeared, revealing the still closed doorway. “Interference negated, boss,” Friday said.
Tony tapped his chest, and this time the suit responded as it was designed to, spreading to encase him in the greatest mechanical marvel yet created by man. Information pinged on his HUD, and he took it in with a glance. “You remind me of a lot of the ball players I knew when I was in college,” he said. “They weren’t too smart either.”
“Heh,” Armstrong said, “clever. But it won’t be enough!” He lunged, intent on engaging in CQC with a man in power armour.
Tony had been overcome in a brawl by supersoldiers once, and he was a quick learner. He answered with a blow of his own, and the crackle of electricity was all the warning the insane senator got before more volts than was strictly comfortable coursed through him. “Your nanotech is so last gen,” he said. “It hardens in response to physical trauma, right? That’s what gives you super strength?”
Armstrong tried to say something as he seized on the floor, suit smoking and scorched.
“You sit tight now,” Tony said, as he uploaded the recording of their meeting to the servers of the building security. “I’ve got a hearing to put a pin in if I want to get back in time for Peppa Pig.”
