Hammer Industries – Workshop
The clatter of metal echoed through the private hangar as Ivan Vanko stood hunched over a stripped-down exosuit. Sparks flew from his welder, the glow briefly illuminating his scarred face.
Justin Hammer paced behind him, crisp suit immaculate despite the stench of oil and ozone.
"Okay, Ivan, let's get one thing straight. The Pentagon doesn't want another Stark knockoff. They want stability. Safety. Patriotism. Not… metal psychos with whips."
Ivan grunted, not even looking up. "Suit is weakness. Man inside… weak link. Man can fail. Man can run. Drone does not run."
Hammer blinked, then frowned. "Drones?"
Ivan finally glanced back, eyes cold. "Yes. Drones stronger. Faster. Obedient. No pilot to betray. No drunk billionaire inside. Drone never says no. Drone only kills."
Hammer hesitated, then forced a salesman's grin. "Okay, okay, I see where you're going. Pilot error? Gone. Human flaw? Gone. Just an army of hammer-branded goodness marching in unison and crushing all of America's does while keeping the sons and daughters of America safe."
Ivan smirked, turning back to his welding. "Exactly. And when show comes? Everyone remember Hammer name. Not Stark."
Hammer clapped his hands, fake enthusiasm masking a flicker of unease. "Right. Hammer Drones it is. But, uh… don't forget the paint job. I'm selling it to old generals here."
Ivan muttered something in Russian under his breath. Hammer pretended not to hear.
Edwards Air Force Base – Briefing Room
Colonel James Rhodes stood at rigid attention as General Meade's voice cut through the air.
"Colonel Rhodes, effective immediately, you're being reassigned to oversee the Iron America initiative. You'll pilot the commanding suit and lead Hammer's drone demonstrations at the Stark Expo."
Rhodey's jaw tightened. "With respect, sir, Hammer tech has a reputation for...."
"For being the best option we've got outside Stark Industries. Stark won't play ball, Parker's tech has too many oversights, so Hammer's our man. End of story. Dismissed."
Rhodey saluted but the unease gnawed at him. Hammer's toys blew up as often as they worked and now he was supposed to strap one on and smile for the cameras?
There were only two people he trusted to give him the truth.
Malibu – Stark Mansion
The sliding glass doors whispered open as Rhodey stepped into Tony's cliffside lab.
"Tony, we need to talk about.." He stopped dead.
The lab was alive with light. Holograms of crystalline lattices and atomic structures floated in the air, shifting and locking like a puzzle finally solved. In the center, Tony Stark and Peter Parker were high-fiving like kids who'd just hacked an arcade.
"Rhodey!" Tony called, grinning ear to ear. "Perfect timing. You are looking at the future of metallurgy."
Peter turned, eyes shining with triumph beneath his glasses. "We cracked it. Synthetic Vibranium. Stable. Replicable. We're literally holding the crown jewel of metallurgy without ever setting foot in a mine."
Rhodey blinked, stunned. "You mean...you made Vibranium?"
"Made it," Tony corrected, "and improved it. Stronger lattice bonding. More kinetic energy absorption than regular Vibranium. Which means…" He gestured to Peter.
"…we just changed the rules of the defense industry forever. No, we just changed the very electronics industry of the world." Peter finished.
Rhodey let out a low whistle. For a moment, the weight of Hammer's tin suits seemed laughable compared to what his friend and his young partner had just pulled off.
But then his eyes fell on the folder tucked under his arm. Iron America Project.
And his gut twisted.
"Tony… Pete… you might've just solved half the world's problems. But Hammer's about to make a mess neither of you are gonna like."
Tony raised a brow. "Oh, this should be good. Tell me you didn't sign up for a disco ball with missiles."
Rhodey exhaled, heavy. "For Hammer tech? That's praise. They want me to wear a hammer made suit. Command his drones. Lead Hammer's drones at the Expo."
Peter crossed his arms, gaze narrowing. "And you don't trust it."
"Damn right I don't."
The three men stood there, the hum of the servers in the background, the weight of two futures clashing in the air: Hammer's brittle lie of patriotism… and their own gleaming miracle of science.
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