Chapter 16
Chapter 15
“Stark.”
A hand grips Tony’s uninjured shoulder, jostles him lightly.
“Stark? Tony?”
The hand shakes him harder, with more insistence, and he is just about to tell whoever the owner of that hand is to fuck right off if they want to keep the appendage intact, when the hand freezes suddenly, skitters down, hovers in apparent indecision somewhere above the small of his back, and then presses gently down on an oddly throbbing spot to the right of his spine….
He howls. Lurches blindly to the side, trying to twist his body away from the white-hot spear of agony that lances through him at the careful touch.
“Shit,” the voice above him frets as the hand moves back to land hesitantly on his shoulder. “Shit, Tony, you’ve been shot!”
“Y-yeah,” he huffs out once he can manage to get his breathing back under control. “Kinda got that.”
“Let me…. I gotta take a look….”
The hand begins to shift down again, and he stops it with a strangled “D-don’t!” Grinds his teeth into his bottom lip and rolls painfully onto his side. Squints up at Rhodes who’s kneeling beside him, face scrunched in worry.
“Pilot?” he gasps out.
Rhodes casts a quick glance to the side, to what Tony assumes is the cabin door. “Dead,” he responds, and Tony only now notices the gun that Rhodes is gripping in his other hand. Tony’s gun.
“Good,” he nods, closing his eyes for a moment to allow himself a small breath of relief. “Way… way to go, Platypus….”
The hand is back on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Let me take a look at that wound, Tony. I need to–”
“You need to get in that pilot seat, Flyboy,” Tony cuts him off with a growl. Opens his eyes to glare at the man when the other hesitates. “Can you fly this thing?”
This gets him a nod, hesitant but it’ll have to do.
“Good. Then, with all due respect…, Mr. President… get your ass in there and start flying. Make sure we get to Washington in one piece.”
Rhodes frowns at him. “And you?”
“Me?” Tony forces out a cocky smile, all too aware that it comes out as more of a grimace. “I’m gonna make sure we have the right welcoming committee when we land, Your Executiveness.”
Rhodes gives him a long look, tinged with doubt and worry. Shakes his head, mouth open as if to call Tony on his bullshit. But in the end he lets it go, as Tony hoped he would. Because they really don’t have time to dally, not when they’re riding autopilot at nearly 14,000 feet, headed toward fuck knows what. Tony will keep. Had worse, after all. Much worse. Survived that, didn’t he. So, yeah, he’ll keep.
Rhodes gives a sharp, decisive nod and stands, and Tony watches him make his way to the cabin past the body of the pilot laid out at an awkward angle amid the bullet-shattered remains of the door.
The moment he disappears from view, Tony slowly rolls himself to his knees. Reaches for the closest seat’s armrest, grips it with white-knuckled force, and with a loud, pained grunt pushes himself to stand. The room lurches and swims around him, and he squeezes his eyes shut. Stands there, waiting for the dizziness to pass as he breathes shallowly through the pain.
Fuck, but he’s getting too old for this shit. Wasn’t he supposed to be retired?
He lets go of the armrest when he feels relatively steady to do so. Shuffles over to Hammer’s body, one arm wrapped around his throbbing midsection, using the other to support himself on the backs of the seats he passes. There was a phone on the man, he’s sure of it. Never seen that douchebag without one. He leans over the senator’s body, pats the man’s pockets.
Bingo.
Steadying himself once more against the seat, he straightens back out, his prize in hand. It’s only a matter of seconds to bypass Hammer’s password, then put in a code that opens up a secure channel. And then….
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jay,” he exhales, relief upon hearing a familiar voice making his knees go weak. “S’good to hear your voice, buddy.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Likewise, Sir. I must say, after Miss Potts’s phone call I was beginning to fear the worst.”
Jarvis’s voice sounds a tad shakier than usual, but Tony, wisely, chooses not to comment on that. Just smiles fondly, allowing himself a selfish moment to bask in the concerned care of his oldest friend.
“Pepper called you then?” he asks, his own voice a bit too tight. “Is she… is everyone alright?”
“Perfectly fine, Sir. Young Mister Keener activated the Shield Emergency Protocol as soon as you left, and the Iron Dome is already up and running. It will remain in place until the Protocol determines that the danger level is back to normal.”
Thank God, Tony thinks, sagging briefly against the seat. Thank God.
Iron Dome was something he and Jarvis came up with after the Shield briefly lost track of Laura’s husband. The thought that Clint might have gone under the radar and would try to locate his family was enough to make him absolutely frantic with worry. The incident turned out to be a false alarm, but Tony remained all-too-aware that, should something like that happen, should an emergency like that arise when he’s not there to help protect his friends, there needed to be some kind of backup plan that would ensure such protection no matter where he was.
And thus Iron Dome was born. A fully functional AI system that, once activated, would create an EMP powered dome around the property, wholly impenetrable for aircraft, vehicles and humans alike.
It also meant that Pepper and the others would become virtual prisoners inside the dome, cut off from even the occasional outside interactions with the few trusted locals, but Tony felt the stakes were worth it. Besides, the hope was that such a measure, if ever it should become needed, would be a temporary one.
Well, it was needed now. He didn’t trust Hammer not to have gone back on his word, not to have arranged for someone to go back to the Foundation to take out the unwanted witnesses. Now he won’t have to worry.
There was just one last thing left to take care of.
Reluctantly he pushes away from his support, weaves an unsteady, staggering path towards the cabin. “Need you to do one more favor for me, Jay,” he breathes out as he collapses heavily into the copilot’s seat, giving a nod of acknowledgment to Rhodes who looks away from the controls to throw him a questioning glance. “We’re about….” He looks at the clock on the instrument panel, tries hard to remember what the time was when they left the Foundation. “…two hours away from Washington. I need you to get a hold of Phil Coulson. Tell ‘im we’re coming in and we’ll need a safe place to land. A safety escort, too. And… uh….” He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to force his molasses-like brain to function. It’s getting harder by the minute. All of it: thinking, talking, even breathing. “S-stane,” he manages finally. “Make sure… he’s got people he trusts… on Stane. Don’t… don’t let ‘im skip town.”
“Obadiah Stane?” Is it Tony’s imagination or has Jarvis’s voice grown tighter, angrier almost. “Is he the one behind this then?”
“Fairly sure, yeah,” he replies. He doesn’t mention the fact that Stane’s likely co-conspirator is currently sprawled on the floor a few feet away from them with his brains blown out. His tongue has become too uncooperative, and he needs to keep this short and sweet. Jarvis will find out the rest soon enough. “But I don’t… know how many are… working for ‘im….. Tell Phil to….”
“To be careful, yes, Sir,” Jarvis cuts in, completing his stumbling thoughts. “I would give you the same advice, but something tells me the point is already moot.”
He can’t help a small huff of laughter at the poorly veiled concern in the stiff-lipped voice. “Thanks, Jay.”
He hangs up. Lets the phone drop from the numb, nerveless fingers. Lets himself sag against the cushions, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain that sends through his lower back.
“Tony?” He hears through the ever-thickening fog that’s coating his tired consciousness. Feels the already familiar hand grip his shoulder. “Stay with me, Tony. You hear me? Tony!”
“Th-think m’gonna need t’sleep now, Sir,” he murmurs, words sounding funny around his too-too heavy tongue. “S’rry.”
He feels the grip on his shoulder tighten with urgent desperation, feels the other man shift closer….
And then he feels nothing at all.