John waited by the roadside for a ride. He had no intention of walking back to his house.
A luxurious convertible sports car stopped in front of him. The man inside, wearing sunglasses, turned and whistled like a playboy teasing a girl. "Hey, babe. Hop in for a chat?"
"I wouldn't mind dismantling your car, Stark."
John smiled and drew his wand.
"I just bought this car. All right, get in. Let's talk." Tony had no choice but to raise his hands in surrender. That little stick had left him somewhat traumatized.
After looking around, John decided to get in.
Sitting in the passenger seat, John complained, "Can't you get a car with four seats?"
"You're not some little girl, and I'm not going to eat you." Tony complained in turn. "What kind of weird hang-up is this? You don't like sitting up front?"
"I just don't like sitting side by side with other people."
John fastened his seat belt. "Shut your mouth, Driving God."
Tony mimed zipping his lips, then floored the accelerator and sped away.
The scenery raced past, but they weren't heading toward John's house.
"Did Ivan Vanko build the New Iron Soldier for you?" Tony asked as he drove. "You should know he has a record."
"He does, but don't worry. He's not that stupid," John said casually. "Using the same trick twice would be boring."
"Not necessarily." Tony remained unconvinced. "You know about palladium poisoning. Without a solution, any further investment in the Iron Soldier program is money down a bottomless pit."
As a victim of palladium poisoning, Tony knew the reactor's flaws all too well.
That material limited what the reactor could do.
So when he learned that the military had renewed its orders with Hammer Industries, he knew who was involved.
But he