In Marvel With Unique Skill Great Sage (MCU) [103]

"Then," Lemu finished simply, "we'll be the ones calling the shots."

He knew that if they handed over a suit and agreed to supply reactors, the military would have a much harder time justifying demanding the actual core reactor technology itself. 

Public opinion wouldn't stand for it. Demanding the suit could be spun as 'national security,' but demanding the secret recipe after getting the product? That just looked greedy. 

And as for supplying reactors... agreeing was one thing. Actually doing it, setting prices, controlling quantity? That would be entirely on Stark's terms.

"As for the armor itself? Just give them the Mark II," Lemu continued. "It's obsolete by our standards anyway. Strip out any truly critical components or advanced algorithms they wouldn't understand. 

And even if they somehow figure thatout? Fine. We leak them some intentionally flawed or simplified 'upgrades' later. Keep them busy chasing outdated tech."

Lemu sighed again, a hint of genuine frustration creeping into his voice despite his practical suggestions. Truthfully, he hated this. 

Even though it was Stark's tech on the line, the feeling of being strong-armed, forced into a corner by bureaucratic threats, rubbed him the wrong way. 

The thought of just... dealing with the problem more permanently, removing a few key military figures from the equation, had definitely crossed his mind.

But wanting to be like Homelander, one man against the world, is one thing, he mused silently. Even if you could kill everyone who opposes you... 

what then? 

A world full of people trembling at your feet? Sounds lonely. And pointless. Others would always rise up. Death doesn't truly scare people determined enough.

No, the real solution is quieter... Lemu thought. Infiltration, manipulation, pulling strings from behind the scenes... Make them think they're in charge, while ensuring they always dance to your tune. 

That's how you truly control things in human society. A soft grip backed by a sharp threat the leash and the knife. Or, as humans liked to say, the carrot and the stick.

Rhodey listened to all this, his expression growing increasingly pained. He looked back and forth between Stark and Lemu, clearly uncomfortable. 

"Uh, guys?" he interrupted awkwardly, shifting on his stool. "Are you sure you should be discussing... all this... right in front of me? I mean," he gestured vaguely at his uniform, "technically, I'm still representing the military here." 

His tone was mild, but the unspoken question hung in the air: Are you seriously plotting how to screw over the US military right in front of a Colonel? Even though his loyalty clearly lay more with Tony than with the demanding generals right now, his position made this whole conversation incredibly awkward.

Lemu rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. You, representing? Give me a break. You're just Mr. Moody in a dark suit."

Stark traced the rim of his glass with a finger, thinking it over. You could almost see he was tempted, considering it, but his pride won out. He firmed his jaw. "Nope! Can't do it. I can't accept that."

His stubborn pride wouldn't let him agree easily.

Lemu just nodded like he knew exactly what Stark was really thinking. "Okay, great. So Tony agrees. Let's move on to the next thing."

Stark looked ready to jump out of his seat. "Whoa, hold on! When did I agree? When?! And hey! Keep your hands off my display!"

Lemu completely ignored Stark's protests. He zoomed in the image on the large screen, focusing on one of the armored suits. 

The sleek metal gleamed under the digital light. You could see the dark opening of its main weapon and the cluster of missiles packed onto its shoulder. Even just as a picture, it looked dangerous.

"This guy, Ivan Vanko," Lemu explained, "his father had bad history with the Stark family. Now Vanko wants Tony dead. He already attacked Tony once, back in Monaco. Now he's teamed up with Justin Hammer, building a whole army of these iron drones. He's definitely coming back for another round."

Lemu turned to Tony. "And honestly, Stark, this is kinda on you. If you hadn't saved him during that attack, we probably wouldn't be dealing with this mess now."

Seeing the serious look in Lemu's eyes, Tony Stark just gave a helpless shrug. Yeah, Lemu had a point. Saving Vanko directly led to this. 

The threat these drones posed was serious, and he couldn't just pass the blame. It was his problem to deal with. But what else could he have done? 

Seeing someone about to die... he just acted. It was instinct, basic decency.

"This is going to be a really tough fight," Lemu continued, getting back to business. "We don't just have to stop Vanko himself. We also need to make absolutely sure that Arc Reactor technology he's using doesn't end up in someone else's hands. And most importantly, we have to do all this without getting any innocent people hurt."

He looked around. "So, anyone got any bright ideas?"

Hearing Lemu's question, Rhodey tapped the table, drawing their attention. "Maybe we could hit them first? A surprise attack? Where is Vanko setting up shop?"

"It's a factory in Queens, New York," Lemu replied grimly. "Right near a residential area. Lots of people around. Very risky."

Rhodey nodded slowly, understanding the problem immediately. He didn't say anything else. A raid gone wrong, with over thirty armored drones running wild in a crowded neighborhood... Yeah, that was a recipe for disaster. Thinking about it was pointless.

Suddenly, Stark looked up, a strange, almost mischievous glint in his eyes. He leaned forward slightly. "Wait a minute... I've got an idea..."

He asked, "Does anyone remember when my birthday is? It's coming up soon, right?"

Rhodey let out a short laugh. "Your birthday? Seriously, Tony? Is that important right now? Who keeps track of that stuff? Come on, we're trying to figure out a serious plan here!"

Stark waved a hand dismissively. "No, no, no, listen! What I mean is... we send Ivan Vanko and Justin Hammer an invitation. Invite them to my birthday party."

He grinned. "And then, we set up the real party right here. Prepare the battlefield. And when they show up..." He drew a finger across his throat in a quick slicing motion. "...we take them all out at once!"

Basically, issue a direct challenge?

Turning his own birthday party into a battleground. Classic Stark.