rusted [pжавый]

Christine Everhart had every intention of staying longer at the house in Malibu, which was definitely the most luxurious of any place she had ever spent the night. And the man who made that possible also had his credits in the woman’s desire to stay there a bit longer.

The woman walked through some corridors, reaching a glass room that gave her a spectacular view of the Los Angeles hillside, and her gaze was drawn to a corner where various decorations were arranged. She recognized magazine article clippings, some business awards, and photos of the homeowner with important personalities. But that wasn’t the most striking thing in the shelf. In the center, there was a bulletin board with pictures of a girl in different stages of growth.

This piqued the journalist’s interest.

Hennessy Stark was a mystery to the world, and Stark Industries worked harder to keep it that way than they did to maintain Tony’s good image. Christine had information that the two were close and that the girl was one of the few things that sparked the billionaire’s commitment, even if only minimally. But seeing photos of Tony with a woman—yes, Hennessy Stark could already be considered a woman—fascinated her, as it made her imagine there was more to their relationship than people let on.

She took her mobile device from her robe pocket, about to snap a picture of the bulletin board, already imagining the story this would create, when a robotic voice made her drop the device and turn around, startled.

— You are not authorized to access this area, — was all she could distinguish from the voice before seeing a familiar redhead enter the room.

— This is JARVIS. He runs the house, — Pepper Potts addressed her, wearing the face of someone who wouldn’t be easily rattled. — I have your clothes here, — the redhead handed her a bag, while Christine bent down to pick up the device, which opened and scattered the battery in the process. — They’ve been dry-cleaned and pressed, and there’s a car waiting for you outside that will take you anywhere you want to go.

— You must be the famous Pepper Potts, — it wasn’t a question, so Pepper didn’t bother answering. — After all these years, Tony still makes you pick up his laundry.

— I do whatever Mr. Stark asks, including, occasionally, taking out the trash, — Tony’s assistant smiled. — And, please, Miss Everett, — she continued, — I wouldn’t go around commenting on what you saw here. Otherwise, you’ll find out that Stark Industries' destructive potential doesn’t just apply to war enemies.

***

— How did she react? — Tony Stark was in his garage and didn’t even turn to face his assistant while they spoke.— With class.

— And she didn’t leave here with anything about Henny?

— Do you think I’m an amateur? — Pepper lowered the clipboard indignantly. — I wouldn’t let that happen.

— Great. And why are you trying to get me out of here?

— Your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago, — she was nervous. Hennessy was the young one, but she felt like she actually had two children to take care of if you counted the girl’s father.

— And you made sure she’s settled in the dorm? I don’t want her near those MIT engineering fraternities. — This time, he turned to Pepper to make it clear with his face that he opposed the idea. — They can’t keep their hands to themselves.

— Tony, if you’d called your daughter, you’d know she arrived safely, is excited to start classes, and you could tell her yourself to stay away from the MIT engineers.

— Oh, Miss Potts, — he returned to the car parts. — And risk her throwing it in my face that I used to be one of those engineers? No, thank you.

Pepper stifled a laugh before hurrying the man again. Hennessy Stark was definitely her father’s thorn in the side. The man complained about the girl’s sarcastic personality because he didn’t want to admit she was his blatant copy. The only thing the redhead was thankful for was that Henny hadn’t inherited Tony’s party-loving and flirtatious spirit.

***

Water rushed up Tony’s nose, and his lungs burned, begging for air. The man struggled to breathe, but to no avail, as the terrorist’s men held him underwater, ensuring he stayed submerged.

“Dad” – a voice came into his head just before he was pulled up and escorted out of the cave with a bag over his head.

***

— Do you have family? — Tony Stark asked his fellow captive while they played a game, one of the few moments they weren’t being forced to work.

— Yes, — Yinsen adjusted his posture and smiled, memories flooding in. — And I’ll see them when I get out of here. What about you, Stark?

— A daughter. — He sighed. — But I’m not so sure I’ll see her again.

— I think you’ll do more than just see her, Stark. I believe this is your chance to give her a different legacy.

***

— Where to, sir? — Happy glanced at the couple in the rearview mirror, attentive to the instructions. The man hadn’t shown it, but a weight had lifted from his shoulders when he saw his boss alive and well.

— We’re going to the hospital, Happy, — Pepper requested, already fiddling with something on her phone. — I sent a plane to pick up Hennessy, and she’ll meet us there.

— No, — Tony Stark grabbed the woman’s wrist, his daughter’s name bringing a sense of urgency. — Call her. Tell her to stay in Massachusetts.

— Tony, — Pepper looked at the man’s hands on hers and met his tired eyes. — She’s worried. Your daughter wants to see you.

Stark took a deep breath but didn’t release his grip on the secretary or look away from her eyes. He couldn’t hesitate.

— Pepper, — he called seriously, and the redhead seemed to understand something in his tone. He almost never called her by her first name. Miss Potts had become a trademark in his treatment of her. — Things are going to get very, very ugly here — Tony emphasized the word “ugly.” — Hennessy needs to stay away from this. Do you understand me?

The woman’s eyes widened, and she nodded, feeling her boss’s hands release the pressure on her wrist.

— She’s going to be furious, — she couldn’t help but make what she imagined would be her final remark on the matter.

— I expected nothing less, — a half-smile found its place on Stark’s face as he remembered his daughter’s stubbornness. — Happy, — now he addressed the bodyguard. — A man who’s been captive for three months just wants to eat a hamburger and call a press conference.

***
Final Act: Post Post-Credit Scenes

It was lunchtime, and a woman in her 20s weaved through students on the campus dedicated to Brain and Cognitive Sciences in Massachusetts, trying to get to her next class on time.

The sneakers she wore were one of the indicators that, if she wanted, she could buy the whole campus, but the worn-out denim jacket made anyone who looked at her question that. It had been a gift from her father, and even though it wasn’t the most expensive, the girl had special memories tied to it.

Hennessy Stark saw some students carrying circuits to classes she assumed were physics, and smiled, remembering the look of disgust her father gave her when she admitted she wanted to study cognitive processes of the human brain. Tony had made it very clear that she was the family’s shame for that, but that he would support whatever she wanted to do.

Suddenly, something in the atmosphere around her changed. No one would have noticed, even if it had been less subtle, but Hennessy noticed. She had always perceived things that, when she told those around her, made them look at her as if she were crazy. The Stark there knew she had been spotted in the crowd, but not in the way she was used to—with fans or curious onlookers.

A spark of interest gripped her when she noticed someone approaching and turned just as she heard a voice calling her name.

— Hennessy Stark? — The man was her height, short for a male. He wore a suit and glasses, even though it was rainy season and overcast in Massachusetts.

The girl’s danger sensor, another thing she couldn’t explain about herself, didn’t go off as the man approached, otherwise, her response would have been very different.

— Can I help you?

— My name is Phill Coulson, — the man extended his hand to her with a card. — And I think you’ll like the offer I have for you.