"I can help you finalize that Energy Storage Device your R&D team has been banging their heads against, and I can guarantee you'll secure that three-hundred-million-dollar military contract," Leander said into the phone.
As he spoke, Jarvis was working in the background of his HUD, pulling every thread of information regarding the Brandon Group. These glasses weren't just a fashion statement; they were a direct uplink to Tony Stark's private server, which held a comprehensive dossier on every military contractor in the country—including their most sensitive secrets.
On the other end of the line, Worth Brandon fell into a stunned silence. He felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioning in his office. The Brandon Group had been in a desperate, neck-and-neck bidding war with the Dolly Group for a massive Pentagon order, but that project was supposed to be strictly classified.
"How could you possibly know about the Dolly bid?" Worth asked, his voice low and dangerous. "And more importantly, why would you help me?"
"Let's save the 'why' for later," Leander replied, his voice buffeted by the high-altitude wind. "I'm currently over the Atlantic, just hitting the African coast. I've got a delivery to make. I'll be in your office to talk face-to-face in forty minutes."
Leander looked down at the burlap sack at his feet. With a thought, he manifested two thin, curved metal blades that sliced through the heavy fabric like a razor through silk. The still-unconscious Mike O'Loughlin rolled out onto the dry, red earth of a remote plain.
Leander untied the boy's restraints and dragged him toward the outskirts of a small, isolated tribal village. A few people, dressed in traditional garments and looking startled by the sudden appearance of a hooded figure, emerged from their thatched dwellings.
Leander reached down and gave Mike a sharp, stinging slap across the face, jolting him awake. He didn't say a word. As Mike groaned and clutched his pounding head, Leander simply turned away. Before the eyes of the awestruck villagers, Leander's golden wings unfurled with a metallic snap, and he ignited his thrusters, soaring into the night sky.
To the tribespeople, Leander was nothing short of a deity descending from the heavens. Consequently, they looked at the dazed Mike—who was now sitting up and swearing in a language they didn't understand—as a holy messenger left behind by the god. They approached him with reverence, helping him up and leading him toward a meal. At the very least, Mike would be well-fed and safe, though his days of bullying New York teenagers were officially over.
Back in Manhattan, Worth Brandon stared at his phone in total disbelief.
"Africa? He's in Africa and he'll be here in forty minutes? Is this kid insane?" Worth paced his office, his mind racing. "Whatever. I've waited this long; forty minutes won't kill me."
He sat back at his desk and pulled up his secure server. "How does a fourteen-year-old kid know about the Energy Storage project? Do we have a mole? Or is he working for Stark?"
He glanced out the window at the shimmering skyline. This was the heart of the world's financial capital, a place where people's lives were made or broken on a daily basis. He opened a news site, and a breaking headline caught his eye.
NIGHT OF CHAOS IN QUEENS: MULTIPLE 'ACCIDENTS' DECAPITATE LOCAL SYNDICATES.
The report was brief but chilling. It detailed a series of bizarre, near-simultaneous events starting at 7:00 PM: a high-speed convoy fire, a series of fatal falls, and a silent massacre at an O'Malley estate. Worth's grip tightened on his tablet. The "accidents" were too clean, too surgical. He realized then that the boy on the phone wasn't just bragging—he was reporting.
Exactly forty minutes later, Leander Hayes arrived above Manhattan. The city was a sea of lights, but he located the Brandon Building instantly.
Worth was just checking his watch, preparing to dismiss the whole thing as a prank, when his heavy office door swung open without a sound.
Leander strode in, pulling back his hood. He looked perfectly composed, not showing a hint of fatigue from his trans-continental flight. "Mr. Brandon, sorry for the wait. Delivering a package to the southern hemisphere takes a bit of time, even for me."
Worth sat back, his expression grim. "Sit down, Leander. I'm not in the mood for games or riddles. If you want my cooperation, I need to see real sincerity."
Leander sat across from him and smiled. "I've already sent a file to your private desktop. Regarding your current Energy Storage Device... frankly, the design is embarrassing. The thermal loss is staggering, and the utilization efficiency is a joke."
"You hacked my private server?" Worth's face flushed with anger.
"Jarvis did most of the heavy lifting," Leander said dismissively. "But the solution I sent you is what matters. By optimizing the magnetic containment field—using the specs I provided—you'll increase your device's efficiency by 12%. That's more than enough to blow the Dolly Group out of the water."
During his flight back, Leander had used his mental link with Jarvis to cross-reference the Brandon design with Tony's advanced blueprints. He didn't give Worth the "Iron Man" level tech—that would be too dangerous—but he gave him something just advanced enough to be revolutionary in the private sector.
Worth opened the file. He was a trained engineer himself, and as he scrolled through the schematics, his anger was replaced by a profound, professional awe. The math was perfect. The logic was undeniable.
Ten minutes later, Worth leaned back and sighed. "It's a masterpiece. It's better than anything my best scientists have come up with in three years."
"Now, let's talk business," Leander said. "I'm taking over Queens. My subordinates—men like Zost—will handle the day-to-day. But I need the Brandon Group to be the bridge. You provide the legal logistics, you handle the 'donations' to the local precincts, and you keep the federal agencies off our back. In exchange, you get the tech, the contracts, and a secure, crime-free district for your operations."
Worth looked at the teenager. He saw the confidence, the hidden power, and the terrifying intellect. He still didn't know how Leander had bypassed his security or how he flew across oceans, but he knew one thing: saying 'no' to this boy was a death sentence for his company.
"This isn't a small request, Leander. Moving against the status quo in New York... it's risky."
"It's only risky if you lose," Leander countered. "And I don't plan on losing. Queens will be quiet within forty-eight hours. I want your answer in two days."
Leander stood up and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window. He reached out and tapped the glass with one finger. A high-frequency vibration rippled through the pane, and suddenly, the entire sheet of reinforced glass shattered into a million tiny, harmless cubes.
The cold Manhattan wind roared into the office, whipping Worth's hair and scattering papers across his desk. Worth scrambled back in genuine terror.
Leander looked back over his shoulder, his eyes flashing with a golden hue. "Two days, Mr. Brandon. Don't keep me waiting."
He stepped out into the void and vanished into the night.
Friday morning—the final day of the school week.
Leander walked into his homeroom with his usual quiet demeanor, though his mind was still buzzing with the logistical reports Zost had been sending him all night.
Mr. Heike was already at the podium, looking more energetic than Leander had ever seen him. When he saw Leander enter, he practically dragged the boy to the front of the class.
"Attention, everyone! I have some absolutely stellar news!" Mr. Heike shouted, his voice cracking with excitement. "The one and only Tony Stark has decided to sponsor a new high school exchange foundation for Midtown Tech!"
A murmur of excitement rippled through the room.
"Starting this year, Stark Industries will select top-performing students for academic swaps with elite schools in Washington, D.C. And for our very first exchange, Mr. Stark has personally hand-picked... Leander Hayes!"
Heike started clapping wildly, and the rest of the class joined in, though their applause was tinged with shock.
Leander stood there, blinked. 'Tony... you couldn't have just called me?' He knew what this was—it was Tony's way of pulling him away from the "mess" in Queens to keep an eye on him.
Walker, who had been sitting in the back looking like he'd seen a ghost, stared at Leander with a mix of awe and renewed fear. He knew exactly why Stark was involved.
Karin, however, looked devastated. The bright, healthy smile she'd been wearing all morning vanished, replaced by a look of profound disappointment as she realized Leander would be leaving.
Leander looked at his teacher. "Mr. Heike, why are you so happy? You aren't coming with me, are you?"
"No, no," Heike chuckled, leaning in to whisper. "But the report says the homeroom teacher of the selected student gets a two-thousand-dollar 'Development Bonus.' This is the best Friday of my life!"