This Man's Skin Was Too Thick

Wu Yanzu called Ashley again.

"Ashley, I need you to activate Hurricane Protocol."

"Sir?" Ashley froze for a moment on the other end of the line.

"Wake up every 'friend' we planted at CNN, Fox, and Reuters. I don't care what excuse they use. I don't care whether they claim a fuel leak or high-altitude bird migration—I need at least ten news helicopters filling the airspace east of Florida within the next hour."

Ten thousand meters above Florida.

Wu Yanzu hovered in the stratosphere, weaving through thin clouds.

He was not wearing his flashy uniform. Instead, he had changed into a Vought-made stealth flight suit, nearly invisible to radar.

High-sensitivity tactical earpieces were plugged into both ears.

"Ashley," he murmured into the communicator, his voice as calm as if he were ordering food, "are the cameras in position?"

"Sir," Ashley's voice came from the command center in Vought Tower, trembling with excitement, "thirteen news helicopters have entered the edge of the target airspace under the pretext of 'extreme weather coverage.' They're equipped with the best long-range lenses available. Whenever you give the order, we can cut to a global live broadcast within five seconds."

"Very good."

"Also," Ashley added, "our 'friends' in S.H.I.E.L.D. have just sent final confirmation. President Matthew Ellis's Air Force One will enter your interception point in three minutes. War Machine... really is onboard."

"Of course he is." Wu Yanzu chuckled.

"Sir, target spotted," Ashley said.

Wu Yanzu's X-Ray Vision had already pierced the clouds, locking onto the iconic Boeing 747 dozens of kilometers away.

"Got it. Track my location and go live in twenty minutes." Wu Yanzu shut off the communicator.

Like a silent meteor, he streaked across the sky and tailed Air Force One from far behind.

One hour earlier, the Iron Patriot armor had landed steadily in front of Air Force One's runway.

Naturally, it was not Rhodey inside, but Killian's trusted subordinate, Eric Savan.

President Ellis, unaware of the truth, personally saluted him. "Colonel Rhodey, with you here, I feel like this is the safest place in all of America."

Eric Savan said nothing from inside the armor, merely nodding in acknowledgment.

The Secret Service agents were completely unsuspecting and allowed him to board the plane with them.

The aircraft then climbed to cruising altitude.

Savan glanced at the clock onboard and headed toward the presidential conference room.

The agents on the plane had relaxed their guard as well. Seeing Iron Patriot approach, some were even preparing to take selfies.

Caught completely off guard, they were shoved into a compartment by Savan. He pressed his crimson-red palm against the compartment's lock and seams, instantly welding the alloy door shut!

Savan then strode toward the conference room in the middle of the cabin.

President Matthew Ellis and his senior advisers were holding a meeting.

One of the president's personal bodyguards looked at him in confusion, and Savan sent the guard straight to Hell without hesitation.

"Rhodey?! Have you lost your mind?!" an aide roared.

The Secret Service agents immediately drew their weapons and returned fire. They were the best of the best.

But the bullets only burst into meaningless showers of sparks against Iron Patriot's armor.

Savan moved with ruthless efficiency. In three minutes, the conference room had been cleared.

The scene was a mess. Only the pale-faced president and his deputy remained, cowering beneath the table and trembling.

When the table was flipped over, the deputy was executed. President Ellis himself still had some backbone; he suddenly grabbed a pistol dropped by an agent nearby and aimed it at Savan.

Bang!

Savan yanked him up and slammed him against the cabin wall.

"Ah—!"

Savan opened the armor's helmet, revealing his cold, ruthless face.

This wasn't Rhodey. President Ellis sucked in a sharp breath.

"If you've got the guts, kill me!" Ellis forced himself to sound defiant.

"Don't be in such a hurry, Mr. President. Your stage isn't here." Savan sneered.

Giving the president no chance to resist, he roughly dragged Matthew Ellis over and forcibly stuffed him into the hollow interior of the Iron Patriot armor.

Bang! The armor sealed shut.

Savan quickly set the coordinates on the control panel on his arm.

Whoosh—!

The Iron Patriot armor carrying the president automatically detached from Air Force One and vanished into the sky.

"Goodbye, Mr. President."

With that, the president had been successfully abducted.

Savan remained in the cabin, locking the remaining officials and crew members in the rear of the plane while he prepared to parachute out.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something beyond the window.

His entire body suddenly tensed!

A figure.

A black figure bathed in sunlight, hovering silently outside the cabin, staring at him expressionlessly through three layers of glass...

"That face... Homelander?!"

Savan froze. Fuck, why was he here?!

Homelander slowly gave him an eight-toothed smile.

"Damn, this is fucking perfect."

Outside the window, Wu Yanzu had witnessed everything.

His X-Ray Vision had seen it all clearly.

The president had been stuffed into a can and flown away.

"Beautifully done, darling." A standard smile appeared on Wu Yanzu's face as he tore off his stealth flight suit, revealing his blue bodysuit and uniform with the Stars and Stripes fluttering behind him.

Whoosh—!!!

He became a streak of light, smashing through three layers of alloy bulkheads before Savan's astonished eyes and hovering in the center of the cabin.

Bathed in crackling electrical sparks, the Stars and Stripes Cape whipped wildly behind him.

"Sorry to interrupt." Wu Yanzu's voice drowned out the howling wind. "The in-flight service on this plane looks absolutely terrible."

For a moment, Savan did not know how to react. He had never expected the greatest variable to appear here.

"You fucking..."

"Shh." Wu Yanzu raised one finger. "Where did the president go?"

"Ha!" Savan laughed. "You guess. You think you won? You're too late, hero!"

Savan's body began to glow as he pushed the Extremis Virus to its limit.

Like a walking humanoid furnace, he charged at Wu Yanzu.

"Go find him in Hell!!"

He threw a punch at Wu Yanzu's face, his fist carrying enough heat to melt steel.

He intended to burn through this "blond sweetheart's" head!

Wu Yanzu did not move.

Bang!

A dull impact rang out.

Savan's fist struck Wu Yanzu squarely in the face.

"..."

The smile on Savan's face froze.

His fist was smoking, but that face... was completely unharmed.

"That's it?" Wu Yanzu slowly said. "Your body temperature... around three thousand degrees? You tried hard, but it's still not enough."

"No... impossible..." Savan felt a flicker of fear. This man's skin was too damn thick...