After Peter and Stephanie left one after the other, Stark, who had been holed up in his lab for days, finally decided to step back into the outside world.
His first stop was Lance's office.
Lance greeted the uninvited Stark with open sarcasm.
"Wow. If it isn't our busy Mr. Stark. Your first stop after resurfacing is really me?"
Faced with Lance's sharp tone, Stark wiped his face and, surprisingly, did not snap back.
He looked at Lance with rare awkwardness, as if he wanted to speak but could not bring himself to. The sight made Lance abruptly stand up, thoroughly put off by Stark's uncharacteristic hesitation.
"Spit it out. Are you telling me you spent all that time locked in your lab just to come back and disgust me?" Lance said, frowning in disbelief.
"Uh…" Stark hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Did Rhodes come to see you?"
Rhodes.
At the mention of the name, Lance dropped back into his high-backed chair and replied coldly.
"No."
"No?!" Stark's voice rose. "How could he not? He left me a message saying he was coming here, and JARVIS also…"
"So you came all the way here and put on this performance just to ask about your good friend Rhodes? All those days in isolation, and that's all you came up with?"
"That's not all…" Stark said, his voice lower. "As far as I know, you haven't even investigated my case…"
Lance let out a short laugh, more irritation than amusement.
He pulled a stack of documents from his desk drawer and slammed them onto the table.
"Why don't you take a look at these before questioning whether I've done my job?"
"And do I need to remind you? I haven't seen a single cent of the deposit for this commission. Has Stark Industries fallen so low that it needs to default on a lawyer's fees?"
Already irritated, Lance was pushed over the edge. His words came out in rapid succession, leaving Stark no chance to respond.
"…Given the client's appalling attitude, I have every right to suspend my services. Mr. Stark, if I don't see the payment within three minutes, I will politely ask you to leave my law firm."
"Fine, fine!" Knowing he was in the wrong, Stark immediately transferred the money to Lance's account. He grabbed the stack of documents and flipped through them at speed.
Lance said nothing. Only when he noticed an extra zero in the account balance, more than he had expected, did a faint smile finally appear on his face.
"You really are full of contradictions. Easy to offend, yet just as easy to please," Stark said after confirming Lance's mood had improved.
"Unlike you, I call that having principles," Lance replied lightly. He generously let this offense slide. As for the previous one, he was still keeping score.
Lance tilted his chin toward the documents in Stark's hand.
"Since you were isolating yourself at the time, I had to contact Miss Pepper for a few things. I hope you don't mind."
"I confirmed with her whether your armor could be used by an ordinary person."
Stark froze. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, are these parts and blueprints valuable to someone who doesn't build armor? Or do they only matter to a certain kind of person…"
"…someone who also wants to build armor."
Stark's expression shifted.
Lance nodded. "Based on that assumption, I looked into your experimental logs. As expected, the logs were wiped, and your surveillance footage was tampered with. I even had the AI trace the flow of the parts. In the end, the trail led to the black market, where it disappeared completely."
"I remember you saying those parts were stabilizers for the energy core," Lance continued. "They require special materials to manufacture, right?"
"Palladium, titanium alloy, nano-level precision machining. Only three factories in the world can produce them," Stark recited mechanically. "But I checked the order records. There were no irregularities."
"Exactly." Lance nodded. "So I checked the scrap."
"At that level of precision, the scrap rate isn't low. And disposing of specialized metal scrap requires qualifications, channels, and records, especially when radioactive materials are involved. I have to admit, the government is very strict about that."
Lance took the document from Stark's hand, flipped to a specific page, and pointed to an entry.
"In the past three months, the volume of palladium and titanium alloy scrap processed by Stark Industries has dropped by thirty-seven percent compared to the same period, yet your armor production has increased. Logically, there should be more scrap."
"And that missing scrap was declared as experimental consumables and shipped to a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands. Its final destination…"
"…is Afghanistan."
Stark's face went pale.
Afghanistan. The place he least wanted to remember. He had only been there for a short time, yet the impact would likely stay with him for life.
"Obie…" Stark's voice trembled. "He and the Ten Rings…"
"I can only say the evidence is insufficient. Nothing can be fully confirmed yet." Lance's tone remained calm. "So, what do you plan to do?"
"I'm going to Afghanistan," Stark said.
"Alone?"
"No." Stark stood up. "I want you to come with me."
Lance sighed. "How many times have I said it? I'm a lawyer, not your mercenary."
"I need a witness." Stark checked the watch on his left wrist, speaking quickly. "If Obie.. ehm.. Obadiah Stane really did those things, I need someone who can turn it into evidence in court. Don't worry. I haven't been idle in the lab. I've made a few gadgets that are more than enough to ensure your safety."
"That's not enough."
"Of course I'll pay. Triple the consulting fee, plus a risk allowance. Deal or not?"
For the first time, Lance truly felt Stark's brand of madness. For all his flaws, when Stark committed to something, he went all in.
Even so, Lance shook his head. "The two of us aren't enough. I want an additional layer of security."
"What do you mean?" Stark asked.
"Colonel Rhodes. He's with the military and firmly on your side. If anyone is suited to be a witness, he's more qualified than I am. For something like this, he should be present."
Stark was silent for two seconds.
"Whatever you want," he said, as if it made no difference to him.
"Since my client has made up his mind, you can handle the arrangements." Lance stood and walked to his desk, already dialing a number.
"As for your unfortunate lawyer, who now has to work overtime in the middle of the night, he still has to make a call to wake up another unfortunate person."
Beep. Beep. Beep.
After three rings, the call connected.
"Hello, Colonel Rhodes…"
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