Tuesday Night – Remote Terminal (Leeds Residence)
Ned Leeds sat hunched over his laptop, the room lit only by the glow of his screen and a single desk lamp. At first, he had just been poking around a late-night digital rabbit hole built on equal parts boredom and curiosity. But the more he dug into old S.H.I.E.L.D. infrastructure and government subnetworks, the more uneasy he felt.
Then he found it.
A buried backdoor into a restricted Raft server cluster, masked under an old STRIKE team server ID. He shouldn't have had access nobody outside Level Seven should but he'd bypassed the firewall with code he'd pieced together from outdated Hydra encryption routines. He'd been curious. And now he was horrified.
The files were heavily redacted. But not enough.
Subject Alpha-7: Status Sedated. Gene suppression ongoing. Cryo-prison authorized without trial.
Subject Beta-12: Failed. Body disposed.
Experimental Directive 'Lucid Dawn' active. Overseen by Secretary Ross.
Ned's heart pounded.
He reached for his phone.
Incoming Call – STARK, TONY
Ned clicked accept. "Uh, hey, Mr. Stark—"
Tony's voice came in low and clipped. "What the hell are you looking at, Leeds?"
"Uh, I… I didn't mean to—"
"You're in Raft archives. Level Seven files. You don't just 'stumble' into that."
"I was trying to figure out what they were hiding. I went through dormant S.H.I.E.L.D. clearance paths, and—"
Tony was silent for a beat. Then: "Meet me at the tower, Happy is picking you up. Now."
Twenty Minutes Later – Stark's Private War Room
Holograms floated in the air, each one more disturbing than the last: prisoner manifests, genetic modification orders, off-the-books transfers, unethical medical directives all bearing General Ross's clearance.
Tony stood in silence, eyes reflecting the blue light of damning evidence. The room was heavy with something different from his usual bravado. Colder. Sharper.
"I was going to let Ross fade away," Tony said finally. "Retire him quietly. Make it look like a scandal, send him to my island in the South China Sea."
"You have a prison island?" Ned blinked.
Tony didn't smile. "Everyone needs a hobby."
Ned turned back to the files. "They're doing things to mutants, Tony. Kids. People who haven't even been charged. I want to do this."
Tony glanced at him. "Do what?"
"Run the op. I found it. I built the trace. I know the system. Let me prove I'm not just the guy in the chair. I'm the guy running the chair."
Tony stared at him long and hard. Then walked forward and rested a hand on Ned's shoulder.
Tony's voice dropped.
"You're smart, Leeds. Loyal. Braver than most grown men I've worked with. But tonight? You're going to see a version of me I don't show people. Not Peter. Not the Avengers. Only Rhodey knows and that's because he's not just my friend. He's my brother."
Ned nodded slowly. He didn't smile. He understood.
Later That Night – Stark's Hangar Bay
The lights of the hangar glowed low, casting long shadows against the gleaming stealth jet docked at the far end. Stark stood in front of it, armored up to his forearms, no faceplate on yet. He looked less like Iron Man and more like something forged in the shadow of war.
Ned stood at the entrance, suddenly unsure if he should be here.
Tony turned. "This is your op, Leeds. But if we're doing this, I'm doing it my way."
"What way is that?" Ned asked.
Tony turned back to the jet and pressed a button on the wall. A hidden rack slid open, revealing Stark-designed tactical gear, weapons Ned had never seen before not even in the most classified SHIELD inventories. Sleek. Deadly. Silent.
"The way that ends it without a press conference."
Ned stepped closer. "You ever show this stuff to Peter?"
Tony shook his head. "Kid still believes the world is save-able. That's good. He should."
"But you don't?"
"I believe some things are savable. But not everyone should be saved."
Ned looked at him really looked. For the first time, Tony Stark wasn't just the billionaire inventor or Peter's mentor.
He was a man with lines. And weapons. And fire in his blood.
"I want to learn," Ned said quietly. "Not just tech. All of it. The weight. The cost."
Tony turned back toward the jet.
"You will."
Midnight – Briefing Bay (Lower Hangar)
The lights flickered on one by one. Stark and Ned stood in front of a holo-table. The mission parameters glowed on a projection. Prison layout. Ross's route logs. Contingencies.
Footsteps echoed.
"Smells like murder and paranoia," a voice chirped. Deadpool stepped into the light, mask on, katanas crisscrossed over his back. "You called, Metal Daddy?"
"Deadpool," Tony muttered. "Try not to make this weird."
"No promises."
Behind him came another figure, more silent, with red body armor and billy clubs clipped at his thighs.
"You sure about this?" Daredevil asked.
Deadpool pointed over his shoulder. "He is. I'm just here for the fireworks and emotional growth."
Stark gestured toward Ned. "He's running this."
Daredevil looked at Ned. "You're the one who found the files?"
Ned nodded. "I don't want to just expose Ross. I want to shut this down."
Daredevil's expression tightened. "There's a girl a mutant client of mine who disappeared weeks ago. She was last traced to a black site linked to the Raft."
Deadpool leaned in beside Ned. "See? This is the part where we bond. Operation Red Reckoning is a go, baby."
Tony crossed his arms. "You each know your role. Minimal casualties. No public blowback. Get in. Get Ross. Get out."
Deadpool raised a hand. "And if he resists?"
Tony's eyes were cold steel. "He won't."