Chapter 538

"Wait!"

Killian’s thumb had already thumbed back the hammer of his pistol.

Across the room, Sherlock and Watson each reached behind them, fingers closing around the collapsible batons they carried for protection.

Then Maya Hansen suddenly shouted.

"Stop!"

Killian paused.

His gaze drifted toward her, almost casually.

That was all the opening Sherlock and Watson needed.

Now!

They drew their batons and lunged forward together, both moving with the urgency of men who knew that one mistake could get them killed.

They attacked with everything they had.

Or, at least, that was how the ridiculous names of their techniques would have described it.

"Nine-Headed Dragon Flash!"

"Mad Devil Staff of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths!"

In reality, they were simply using British fencing techniques with collapsible batons.

Still, they were fast.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

Sherlock and Watson moved with remarkable coordination, attacking Killian from opposite sides.

Watson targeted Killian’s right arm, the one holding Pepper by the throat.

Sherlock went for the left, the hand holding the pistol.

Wrists.

Elbows.

Shoulders.

They struck the joints repeatedly, precisely and viciously. A concentrated assault on those critical points should have crippled both arms.

Instead, Killian didn’t even move.

After both arms had been hammered from wrist to shoulder, he simply stood there.

Then he blinked.

"Oh," Killian said mildly. "That hurt."

He rolled his eyes.

Sherlock and Watson froze.

Killian’s right arm suddenly flexed.

He swung Pepper like she weighed nothing and slammed her into Watson.

Watson staggered, and the two women went down in a tangled heap.

Sherlock didn’t fare any better.

Killian drove a foot into his abdomen.

Sherlock flew backward and crashed into the sofa.

"Wait! You can’t kill them!"

Maya shouted again.

She stepped between Killian and the fallen Pepper, putting herself directly in his path.

Killian gave her an incredulous smile.

"I can’t kill them?"

His expression hardened.

"You also don’t get to walk into Tony Stark’s house without my permission."

"I’m dealing with that!" Maya snapped back. "How was I supposed to know you and your boss were planning to blow up his house?"

Her anger was genuine.

"I told you from the beginning that Tony Stark was useful. If we want to launch the product next year, we need Tony Stark’s support."

Celebrity endorsements sold everything these days.

Car companies hired beautiful models. Food companies hired famous actors. Movie premieres dragged in musicians who had absolutely nothing to do with the film just to generate publicity.

Well, that last one was probably a stretch.

Tony Stark was different.

His influence wasn’t merely celebrity.

To the public, he was Iron Man.

To the scientific community, he was one of the most brilliant minds on the planet.

If Killian wanted Extremis to become a dominant product in the arms market, having Tony Stark publicly support and promote it would be an extraordinary shortcut.

Maya had made that clear from the beginning.

And, truthfully, Killian had considered the possibility himself.

Yes, he had a personal grudge against Tony.

Years ago, Tony had stood him up, leaving him alone on a rooftop in the cold. Killian had been so devastated that he’d nearly taken one final step over the edge.

But that was the past.

At least, that was what Killian told himself.

Sometimes he even wondered whether Tony’s rejection had been the best thing that ever happened to him.

If Tony had accepted his proposal back then, Killian might have ended up as another employee at Stark Industries.

Instead, he had become a businessman on the verge of extraordinary success.

That’s why he’d approached Pepper in the first place.

He’d wanted to test the waters. Maybe Tony would finally be willing to support his work, or perhaps Stark Industries itself could lend its name to the project.

Instead, Killian had been rejected again.

Twice.

The second rejection had burned away whatever patience remained.

But Killian was no longer the man who had once considered suicide.

Now, when he was humiliated, he wanted revenge.

So when Tony provoked the Mandarin, Killian had wasted no time sending people to destroy his home.

"Tony Stark simply didn’t have a reason to support us before."

Maya glanced at Pepper lying on the floor.

"Now he does."

Killian followed her gaze.

A slow, vicious smile spread across his face.

Hatred was one thing.

Profit was another.

Killian had no trouble choosing the latter.

And there was something deeply satisfying about taking Tony Stark’s woman hostage and forcing him to work for the very man he hated.

"Very well."

Killian smiled.

Then his eyes narrowed as he looked toward Sherlock and Watson.

"But I only need one important hostage."

He raised the pistol again.

"Those two are unnecessary."

"They’re other hostages!" Maya hurriedly shouted.

She still had some conscience left.

Not enough to turn back.

But enough to stop Killian from casually executing two men.

"Something unexpected happened with this plan. I met someone at Tony Stark’s place."

Killian stopped.

The hesitation in Maya’s voice caught his attention.

"Who?"

"Another Avenger."

Killian’s face darkened immediately.

"Another Avenger?"

He stared at her.

"Which one?"

Had Tony somehow called in the entire Avengers roster?

The last thing Killian needed was the Hulk dropping out of the sky and turning him into pavement.

He had tremendous confidence in Extremis.

He also had enough self-awareness to know that if the Avengers assembled against him, he had no chance.

Maya struggled to recall the name.

"That guy... Black Face... Black Hand... uh..."

She frowned.

"American Cockroach?"

Killian stared at her.

Even Maya seemed annoyed with herself.

The other Avengers had simple names. One word. Two at most.

This guy apparently had to go and make his title three words long.

"Lord of the Black Scythe," Sherlock supplied from the sofa.

"Yes!" Maya immediately nodded. "That’s him."

She pointed toward Sherlock and Watson.

"These two are his friends. Keeping them alive could be useful."

The moment Killian heard the name, his pupils contracted.

Lord of the Black Scythe.

Of all the Avengers, he was one of the few Killian genuinely feared.

Killian had connections within the U.S. military, which meant he knew considerably more about the Battle of New York than the average civilian.

Almost nobody knew the Black Scythe Lord’s true identity.

Even the post-battle reports had barely mentioned him. He had kept such a low profile that the public had practically forgotten he existed.

Killian hadn’t.

He knew what the man had done during the Battle of New York.

After a long moment, Killian clenched his jaw.

"Fine."

He lowered the pistol slightly.

"You’re coming with me. No tricks."

The four captives had barely been gone ten minutes when a taxi pulled up outside the hotel.

A woman wearing sunglasses stepped out.

Beside her emerged a man carrying a shield.

Neither looked remotely surprised by what they were about to find.