The lights in the hearing room were blindingly white.
A row of cameras stood at the back, every red light on.
The press gallery was as packed as a Beijing subway at morning rush hour on the other side of the world.
Don't ask why that comparison was used. New York's morning rush hour still fell a little short in terms of crowding.
Happy followed Tony with a folder in his arms, his face taut.
No matter how you looked at it, today's assignment ought to qualify as a workplace injury.
Rhodey sat in the front row.
His uniform was immaculate, a communicator clasped in his palm.
His thumb rubbed its edge over and over.
Calm.
Very calm.
So calm that he silently recited his service assignment and rank to himself.
The chair banged the gavel.
"Mr. Stark, please take your seat."
Tony stood before the hearing table.
His gaze fell on the subpoena on the table.
Then slowly swept over the row of faces in the congressional seats.
The corners of his mouth turned down.
"Oh."
Tony reached out and picked up the document.
The pages rustled.
"You actually prepared something? I'm surprised you can read."
The chair frowned.
"Watch your language."
Tony nodded.
"Mm, thank you."
Tony pulled out a chair and sat down.
He looked as relaxed as if he had come to review a restaurant with an abysmal sanitation rating.
"I am watching it."
The document opened.
Armor authorization.
Emergency takeover.
Remote access keys.
War Machine cooperation permissions.
Tony looked at those lines.
His eyebrows rose little by little.
The corners of his mouth slowly sank, too.
Well, now. How interesting.
Tony currently felt like a human watching a cockroach wearing a suit.
Disgusted.
Uncomfortable.
And a little intrigued.
"I have a question."
The chair suppressed