In the corridor backstage, a man stopped them.
He wore a somewhat cheap gray suit, boasted a high hairline, and wore an earnest smile.
"Mr. Stark, Mr. Henry, may I have a few minutes of your time?"
Henry raised an eyebrow, instantly recognizing the face.
Wasn't this the famous Phil Coulson?
Tsk tsk, Henry thought. Jason Statham must be your brother, right?
"Hey, isn't this the Special Agent from the Department of National Defense, Strategic Defense, Attack and Logistics Division?" Henry deliberately twisted the long, cumbersome name.
"What? Are you here to sell insurance or investigate tax evasion?"
Tony looked him up and down, his biting instinct kicking in.
"I have to say, sir, your taste in suits is as unique as your worrying hairline. Didn't your mother tell you a man should at least have one decent custom suit?"
Though ridiculed by the brothers, Coulson kept his professional smile, undisturbed on the surface, but his heart raced.
How did they know? Is there a spy inside?
"My name is Phil Coulson, from the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division," he introduced, pulling a business card from his pocket.
"The full name is our Strategic National Attack and Logistics Support Division. We're thinking of renaming it thanks to your suggestion."
Tony glanced at the card, then tossed it to Henry in disgust.
"Sounds like an insurance salesman or cheap protection racket."
Coulson's smile twitched but remained poised.
"Mr. Stark, Mr. Henry, we noticed your heroic deeds. We can assist managing the fallout from the armor's exposure—the media, government, and military—making it as if nothing happened."
"Oh, how kind," Henry smiled.
"What's the price?"
Coulson's face darkened.
"The condition is to cease unauthorized public use of high-risk equipment. Additionally, we sincerely invite you both to serve as consultants."
"Join you? Work for you?" Tony laughed, the funniest joke he'd heard all year.
"Do you know who I am? Tony Stark! You want me to work for some government agency whose name you can't pronounce? Can you even afford my salary?"
Henry gazed at Coulson, whose expression was exactly as expected, then cracked a cynical smile.
S.H.I.E.L.D. agents always think they're above everyone else—especially the boss, who claims control over all things not under his thumb.
"Hey, Agent Coulson." Henry leaned close to his ear and whispered confidentially.
"The bureau you mention? Isn't it headed by a bald guy wearing a black windbreaker and eye patch, nicknamed One-Eyed Fury? Aren't you working on some Avengers project? That circus bringing together an old frostbitten popsicle from the freezer, a grumpy green giant, a mythic muscleman, and a few agents to fight an alien invasion?"
Coulson's professional smile froze.
His pupils contracted; sweat beaded on his forehead.
He stared at Henry like a ghost, mind blank.
Avengers are top secrets. Only five people know about this project!
How did Henry Stark know?
In Coulson's headset, a calmer but shocked voice came through—it was Nick Fury.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. director's micro camera caught Fury teasing as he watched Henry.
Tony heard the word "Avengers" and interrupted instantly.
"Avengers? Sounds like a second-rate rock band or outdated boy band. Your department's name is just as questionable."
"How should I know? You don't need to." Henry coldly regarded Coulson's pale face.
"Tell your bald boss we control our own lives—don't send people to bother us. If we need help, we'll call you. But chances are, we won't."
Coulson froze, opening his mouth, but Fury's terse command interrupted,
"Retreat."
Coulson took a deep breath, forced a smile, nodded at the brothers, then quickly vanished down the corridor.
Outside, Pepper remained surrounded by reporters, pale and anxious.
Tony and Henry, acting as if nothing had happened, stepped into the Audi R8 that Happy was already waiting with.
The roar of the sports car faded as they sped away.
During the drive, Tony looked quietly out the window at the fading cityscape. Then suddenly asked,
"Obadiah—does he know about Pepper and Happy gathering evidence?"
"He doesn't know yet," Henry answered flatly.
"But it won't matter. Tomorrow morning, he'll be arrested on multiple commercial crimes and treason allegations. He'll probably die unexpectedly from a sudden heart attack in custody."
Tony paused, surprised by his brother's calm confidence.
"Don't you want me there?"
"No." Henry smiled.
"I can handle this dirty work alone."
Tony hesitated, studying Henry's confident smile—the kind he'd never seen before.
After a moment, he spoke seriously.
"He is the uncle who watched us grow up. Don't go too far."
Henry looked over with bright eyes.
"Don't worry, brother."
"I won't."