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Tony Stark, who wasn't at the scene, was completely stunned after getting chewed out like that.
Henry, meanwhile, wasn't finished.
"Of course the government doesn't want the media talking about it. That's standard operating procedure.
"They need manpower on the front lines for rescue operations, and they need to reassure survivors and keep the public from panicking.
"Just look at Vietnam. The U.S. government cares about stability and appearances. Human lives? Since when were those the priority? Well, I suppose they've improved a little. As long as you're not dead on the spot, everything's fine. Got it?
"The fact that I even have to explain this to you makes me wonder whether you're really Tony Stark, or some artificial idiot using Tony Stark's voice. Tell your creator that your conversational logic is terrible. You're wasting my time."
With that, Henry hung up.
Tony Stark, who had just opened his mouth to fire back, found himself listening to a dial tone.
"That sour-faced bastard!"
He wasn't quite furious enough to start smashing things, but he was definitely angry. If he'd had a little more grip strength, he might have crushed the phone in his hand right then and there.
Picking up the requisition list again, Tony grabbed the pen clipped to Happy Hogan's shirt pocket and began marking which items Stark Industries could provide.
Ninety-nine percent of the list was within Stark Industries' capabilities.
Some items were still experimental prototypes sitting in laboratories, but using them in a real-world disaster-response scenario would serve as valuable field testing.
As for the remaining one percent, Tony could supply those himself from his workshop.
The only complication was that he might have to personally compile software and oversee operations on-site.
After finishing his notes, Tony handed the marked-up list to Virginia Potts.
"Pepper, get these items prepared and sent to the World Trade Center site. As fast as possible."
---
"Hold on."
Obadiah Stane stopped her before she could leave.
Seeing this, Tony said,
"Obadiah, we have PR budgets for exactly this sort of thing, don't we? And if that's not enough, I'll cover the difference myself."
Obadiah shook his head.
"Don't misunderstand me, Tony. I'm not trying to stop you. I support helping with the disaster response.
"But a lot of this equipment requires trained operators. That means we're sending personnel as well.
"In that case, these aren't donations to New York City or the police department. We're lending them the equipment.
"And our people are going to wear highly visible uniforms with a big 'STARK' logo on them.
"Everyone needs to know who's providing the assistance.
"Those are my conditions."
Tony didn't argue.
He simply nodded and turned back to Pepper.
"You heard Obadiah. Make it happen."
Obadiah wasn't lacking in tact either.
"Ms. Potts, I'll have my secretary assist you. He knows the status of every department."
Turning toward the man beside him, he added:
"Hank, go help Ms. Potts."
"Yes, sir."
The secretary immediately nodded.
---
After sending the others away to handle preparations, Obadiah looked at his surrogate nephew.
"Tony, have a guest room prepared for me. I plan to stay here.
"Judging from what your friend said, Manhattan may not be habitable for quite some time.
"I don't own any other property in New York."
Tony didn't object.
He immediately instructed Happy Hogan to make the arrangements.
Obadiah then asked,
"The person you were talking to just now—that kid who used to work at Stark Pictures?
"Have you thought about recruiting him back?
"How much salary does he want?"
Tony grimaced.
"It's not about money.
"That guy isn't someone you can buy with money."
As he spoke, his mood continued to worsen.
He abruptly stood up and headed upstairs to change clothes.
Before leaving, he gave another instruction.
"Happy, have someone prepare breakfast—actually, lunch. Make it a big one.
"I'm heading out this afternoon."
"Boss, you're not planning to go there, are you?"
Happy Hogan had grown noticeably wider around the waist over the years.
He was no longer the nervous employee who only nodded and kept quiet.
That didn't mean he would disobey Tony, of course.
He simply spoke more casually now, as an equal friend rather than a subordinate.
Tony never minded.
Their relationship had long since become something more than employer and employee.
"I'm not going there immediately," Tony replied.
"I need time to prepare.
"And some of that equipment isn't exactly user-friendly. If I don't go, then shipping the hardware over there is pointless.
"When everything's ready, send a couple of technicians from the engineering departments to the World Trade Center site.
"I'll teach them how to operate the systems personally."
Then another thought occurred to him.
"Speaking of employees—Obadiah, what about headquarters?
"We're not next door to the Twin Towers, but we're not that far away either.
"If the air really is contaminated, our people won't be able to avoid exposure."
After thinking for a moment, Obadiah nodded.
"Then let's temporarily relocate operations to the research center.
"It's outside Manhattan and far from Lower Manhattan. It shouldn't be affected by the pollution."
"Sounds good."
With that, Tony headed upstairs.
There were still several projects in his workshop that needed final adjustments before they could be useful.
If he wanted them deployed, there was plenty of work left to do.
---
And this wasn't happening only inside the Stark mansion.
Many of the companies that received New York City's faxed requisition list found themselves facing the same decision.
Most had no intention of sending their prized experimental technology into a disaster zone.
Providing a shipment of ordinary relief supplies was already generous enough in their eyes.
New York City itself was important.
The New York City government was not.
Mayor Rudy Giuliani simply didn't possess enough influence to make the corporations he had contacted jump at his request.
Even if he begged, many of them wouldn't care.
If President George W. Bush personally called, that would be a different matter.
As a result, most companies rejected the specialized requests outright.
In some cases, the effort even backfired.
Their impression of the stubborn mayor worsened further, making future cooperation less likely.
However, smaller companies lacked the luxury of dismissing the request so casually.
Others saw an opportunity.
The city's requisition list looked like a guaranteed money-losing endeavor.
But why not turn bad news into good publicity?
Among the most enthusiastic participants was none other than Justin Hammer, the Monaco-based entrepreneur.
Hammer Industries already had a solid foothold in Europe.
But Justin Hammer wanted access to the American market.
He wanted to reshape the company, embed it into America's industrial DNA, and ultimately secure contracts from the biggest customer in the defense industry:
The United States military.
To achieve that goal, this disaster represented a perfect advertising opportunity.
Hammer Industries needed to make an impression.
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