Tony finished the Mark VI even faster than Lynn had expected. The new reactor's energy output was absurdly stable. With JARVIS's assistance, the main design of an armor frame suited to that power level took only three days to complete, leaving two days to fine-tune the angles of the thruster nozzles and the weapon systems' energy allocation. On the afternoon of the fifth day, Tony flew a circuit through the testing passage in the completed Mark VI and returned, landing on the circular platform in the middle of the lab. His faceplate sprang open, his face filled with the smug satisfaction of "I nailed it again."
He picked up his phone from the workbench and shoved it into Lynn's hand. Lynn was leaning against the workbench, leafing through a science and technology magazine he had swiped from Tony's study. He glanced down at the phone thrust into his hand, then looked up at Tony.
"Why don't you call him yourself?"
"I'm destined to win. Why should I be the one to contact the loser?"
Lynn looked at his back and shook his head, then found Vanko's encrypted-frequency number on a sticky note and dialed it. The call connected quickly. Ivan Vanko's voice came through the receiver, accompanied by the roar of a welding torch and the shrill sound of metal being cut. Clearly, he was busy too.
"Vanko. Decided on the contest and the venue yet?"
"I have. But I don't have a venue." Vanko's answer was brief and direct. "Stark has plenty of money and resources. Surely he won't be stingy about providing a place."
Lynn covered the microphone and relayed this to Tony. Tony did not even turn around, his fingers still adjusting the opening angles of the thruster nozzles on the holographic screen. "Not that stingy. Just tell him not to complain about my home-field advantage."
"Tell him to be ready. No crying when he loses," Tony added.
Lynn passed that along word for word. There was a brief silence on the other end, followed by Ivan Vanko swearing in Russian. Then the call ended.
"What did he say?" Tony asked.
"I don't speak Russian, but judging by his tone... it was probably pretty filthy." Lynn set the phone on the workbench and picked up his magazine again.
The venue was ready the next day. Tony chose an old Stark Industries factory building on Long Island. It had originally been used to test early reactor prototypes, then sat idle after the production line moved to a new factory complex. JARVIS spent the morning readjusting the building's power supply system. Tony had Happy move in two high-precision CNC lathes, then packed up several frequently used sets of testing equipment from the lab and shipped them over. The equipment specifications of this temporary contest venue far exceeded the norm.
"All the experimental equipment is here. If anything's missing, say so when you need it. It'll take less than ten minutes to get it over from the nearest branch." Tony stood at the factory entrance and dusted off his hands, very pleased with his arrangements.
Standing beside him, Lynn surveyed the refurbished factory building, thinking that for all Tony's talk of "making the loser contact him first," he had certainly prepared a high-spec setup. He glanced at the equipment list JARVIS had sent to his lenses and did a quick comparison to confirm nothing was missing. That evening, Lynn contacted Vanko and gave him the time and address. Vanko only replied, "Got it," then hung up. Just before the call ended, Lynn faintly heard the clacking of a keyboard on the other end. He might still have been writing code.
The night passed without incident.
The next morning, Tony drove Lynn over, arriving on time. The morning air on Long Island carried the sea breeze and the faint smell of rust peculiar to industrial districts. The factory's roller shutter rose, and morning light slanted through the entrance, falling across several rows of gleaming workbenches. Vanko was already waiting at the entrance. He wore an old dark-gray jacket, and his hair was as messy as ever.
"This is the place." Tony pushed open the factory door and gestured for him to enter. "Home-field advantage. If anything's missing, just say so."
"I'm not that petty." Vanko gave the equipment inside a quick once-over, but something flickered in his eyes, and he muttered, "What a luxury."
Then he turned to Tony. "A private contest. Just me and Stark. Everyone else out."
Lynn said nothing. He narrowed his eyes slightly, scanning Vanko from head to toe, and quietly activated his ability to probe him. No metal response, no explosive residue, no abnormal energy source. He withdrew his perception and nodded to Tony.
"He's got nothing on him," Lynn told Tony quietly.
"Fine." Tony took off his jacket and set it on a nearby workbench, then gestured for Lynn to head out first. "Just wait in the car. We're competing with brains today, not fists. Your ability won't make any difference either way."
Speechless, Lynn retreated to the factory entrance and glanced at the two of them again before turning around.
Tony leaned beside the CNC lathe with his arms folded, his posture carrying the same casual arrogance as ever; Vanko stood across the workbench, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows to expose forearms covered in old scars. Neither looked at the other, and neither spoke first.
Then Lynn walked out and pulled down the roller shutter behind him.
It took longer than Lynn had expected. He sat on the old bench outside the factory entrance for a while, then got up and walked around before sitting down again.
The time on his phone slowly crept from nine in the morning to two in the afternoon, then dragged on until five in the evening. In the meantime, he sent Yinsen a few messages. Yinsen replied with a photo of lunch at the Sanctum cafeteria: three vegetable dishes with rice and a bowl of soup. Lynn looked at the photo, then at the factory's tightly shut roller shutter, and sighed.
Sometime after six that evening, the roller shutter was finally raised from inside. Tony and Vanko came out one after the other. Neither was in particularly bad shape. Well, their clothes weren't torn, their faces weren't injured, and even their hair wasn't mussed. Judging by their appearance, it had probably been a simple contest that had not escalated into a physical fight.
"Who won?" Lynn got up from the bench and walked over to them.
Neither Tony nor Vanko answered. Tony looked down and straightened his cuffs, while Vanko zipped his jacket up to his chin. They looked in completely opposite directions at the same time, as though silently reaching some sort of understanding that the subject ended there.
Lynn's gaze moved back and forth between them twice. "All right. What did you compete in, then?"
Silence again. Tony began checking the reactor data JARVIS had sent to his phone, while Vanko looked up at the gradually darkening sky outside the factory, as though that cloud had suddenly become well worth studying.
"...Fine. You both won some and lost some. I won't dwell on it."
Tony put away his phone and glanced at Vanko, who was still rooted to the spot. He was silent for a moment, then spoke in a tone that was reluctant but had finally given in. "Stop standing around here."
He raised a hand and gestured for him to follow. "The burgers at my place are a hundred times better than the black bread you eat in Siberia."
Vanko looked at him. There was no gratitude in that look, no softening, but no refusal either. He merely grunted, then stepped forward and followed.
Lynn followed behind them, watching their backs as they walked half an arm's length apart, neither willing to take a step faster than the other. He slipped his hands back into his pockets, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. As long as things were resolved, that was good enough.
How it had happened didn't matter. In any case, there would only be more occasions in the future when he would get the aftermath without experiencing the process.