The Mastermind

Just as Luo Xia was contemplating the motives of the mastermind, far from Hell's Kitchen in the most prosperous part of New York, Obadiah Stane received a call from an unknown number.

"Mr. Stane, this is James Wesley. We have prepared what you requested." A man's voice came through the phone, his tone as rigorous and precise as the business elites at Stark Industries.

Obadiah Stane had seen many such talents, but after several previous interactions, this CEO of Stark Industries had a strong desire to poach this man to work for him.

Unfortunately, this James Wesley was the executive secretary to the president of Global Consolidated Investment and the president's most trusted aide. That president was as elusive as a dragon, constantly hiding his information, to the point that this secretary was often mistaken for the head of the company.

Under such circumstances, Global Consolidated Investment continued to operate normally, with performance even thriving, which was a testament to James Wesley's capabilities.

However, Obadiah Stane understood that this man could not be swayed by money, so he composed himself: "James, I will send someone to pick up the goods later. I will have the transfer contracts for those two blocks in Hell's Kitchen drawn up now; you can come over to sign them tomorrow."

"That would be excellent. However, you should be careful with the transfer of the goods; Hell's Kitchen has been a bit unstable lately," James Wesley warned.

The instability James Wesley referred to was, naturally, not the gangs of Hell's Kitchen, but that elusive masked man.

"Rest assured, my people are not ordinary," Obadiah Stane replied.

"Then, what is the password for the handover?" James Wesley asked.

"When you see my people, just have them light a cigarette," Obadiah Stane said.

"Light a cigarette?" James Wesley was clearly surprised by this code.

"That's right."

Hanging up the phone, Obadiah Stane stared blankly at the brilliant night lights of New York. This time, he had not only kidnapped Norman Osborn's son but also Justin Hammer's family. He was preparing to cooperate with a company called AI to establish a new arms manufacturing enterprise, intending to swallow up all the orders that Stark had discarded.

He just had to ensure that the behemoths Osborn Industries and Hammer Industries would not compete with him; otherwise, even with Obadiah Stane's connections, the newly formed company might not be able to snatch back the original orders.

If he had a choice, Obadiah Stane would truly not want to use such bottom-line-breaking tactics. Even if Osborn and Hammer didn't know who the mastermind was now, once these orders were redistributed, only a fool wouldn't guess who was behind it.

This was an act of burning bridges, which would inevitably invite retaliation from both companies.

But there was no other way. Stark Industries had been built by Obadiah Stane together with Tony's father, Howard, and he had poured too much of his heart and soul into it.

If it weren't for Tony going mad and wanting to shut down the weapons production department, he wouldn't have had to conspire with outsiders to seize the foundation that rightfully belonged to him.

"Tony! Everything is your fault!" Obadiah Stane slammed his fist onto the desk in front of him in resentment.

The highly technological sensor desktop immediately popped up a screen displaying a video of Tony wearing mechanical gauntlets on both hands, testing his palm repulsors.

This video was something Obadiah Stane had spent a great deal of effort to record secretly, bypassing Tony's smart butler, Jarvis. But this was the only clip; if he had been greedy and continued recording, he would have been discovered. It was only thanks to Tony having zero defenses against Obadiah Stane that he could come and go from his home and even his laboratory at will.

"You say you want to shut down weapons production, yet you turn around and start developing such powerful individual weapons yourself. Tony, you are just as hypocritical as your father."

Obadiah Stane's face was ferocious, as if he had made a firm decision, and then he dialed a number.

"Killian, have your people take away Norman Osborn's son and Justin Hammer's father. By tomorrow, I believe they will all give up on competing for the share of weapons orders left behind by Stark. Also, I will not interfere in the conflict between you and Tony; as long as it doesn't affect our new joint venture, you can do whatever you want."

Hanging up the phone, Obadiah Stane felt as if he had performed some strenuous exercise, his entire body collapsing powerlessly into his office chair. In the darkness, Obadiah Stane's eyes burned bright; no one knew what this "former" CEO of Stark was thinking.

Not long after Obadiah Stane hung up, in a secret warehouse in New York, a tall man with a buzz cut and a cynical look was dangling a cigarette from his mouth.

He extended a finger and pressed it against the cigarette; a flash of red light flickered across his fingertip, and the cigarette was instantly lit.

He took a deep drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke, looking so comfortable that it made one want to have one too.

Beep, beep, beep. A text message notification sounded. The man took out his phone, glanced at it, and then spat out the cigarette in his mouth. The cigarette turned to ash before it had even flown half a meter away, and the nicotine dissipated before it could even turn into smoke.

The man walked out of the warehouse, bringing several burly men who didn't look like good company into two commercial vehicles. Under the cover of night, the two black vans departed from the bustling heart of New York and headed toward Hell's Kitchen.

Hell's Kitchen was a slum in New York; many road facilities were in a state of semi-abandonment. Unlike the brightly lit areas, this place was almost entirely in a state of semi-darkness.

Luo Xia and Matt arrived near an underground parking garage, moving almost entirely in the dark, though they could barely make out the sign outside that read "Wesley Taxi Company."

It looked like this was a business, perhaps just a shell company for these Russians to hide their activities.

The two did not approach rashly. Matt kept a distance of over a hundred meters, listening carefully to the situation inside the underground parking garage.

After a while, Matt said to Luo Xia: "There are three guards at the entrance, but I don't know if they have installed infrared alarms or similar devices, so I don't recommend breaking in through the front door."

"You mean, if we can confirm they haven't installed alarms at the entrance, we can break in directly?" Luo Xia asked.

"Exactly. There are only three people at the entrance, and there is a long passage leading to the core of the parking garage where there is no one. As long as I can get into the parking garage, I can confirm where the child is," Matt said confidently.