Chapter 547

"Move! Let me go after him!"

Killian had barely climbed into the armor before he blasted straight through the ceiling and vanished into the sky.

Captain America and Peggy Carter arrived a step too late.

They could only stare at the hole he’d left behind.

Then a heavy clanking echoed through the hallway.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

Tony Stark came sprinting toward them, finally reunited with his armor.

The sight brought an immediate sense of relief.

Steve Rogers couldn’t fly. Peggy had wings, but without somewhere high to launch from, they were mostly useful for gliding downward. Neither of them had any way to chase someone already airborne.

Tony, on the other hand, was Iron Man.

The guy practically treated walking as an optional feature.

If anyone could catch Killian, it was him.

Tony came charging into the room, took two quick steps, and jumped.

The armor’s thrusters ignited in a shower of sparks.

FWOOM!

CLANG!

Tony rose into the air...

...and landed neatly on both feet.

Silence.

Peggy stared at him.

Steve stared at him.

Tony stared back.

Peggy slowly covered her eyes with one hand and turned away.

"You’re absolutely useless, Tony."

"...Not my fault. Low power."

His face was hidden behind the helmet, but the embarrassment was practically radiating off him.

His armor had been charging in a rundown warehouse earlier, where the power supply was barely adequate. The fact that it had managed to fly all the way from Tennessee to Miami, a distance of roughly 832 miles, was already impressive.

Expecting it to have enough juice to carry Tony straight into another state was asking a little much.

Steve clenched his fist.

"We were one step too late!"

"No," Peggy said calmly. "We’re actually one step ahead."

Everyone looked at her.

"Killian escaped, but whatever he’s planning will take time. The information we need, however, is available right now."

She had been in the espionage business long enough to understand the value of a narrow window.

Killian might be fast.

The armor might be even faster.

But could it outrun a phone call?

That was the difference that mattered.

The actor playing the Mandarin was still in their custody. Getting information out of that coward about Killian’s plans should be easy enough.

Once they knew the target, one phone call could put the necessary security measures in place.

Better yet, Killian could arrive at his destination only to find a special-operations team waiting for him.

Peggy’s expression hardened.

"We haven’t lost."

At that moment, Colonel James Rhodes finally stirred.

When his eyes opened and the first people he saw were Tony Stark and Captain America, he let out a long breath of relief.

Tony immediately grabbed him and hauled him to his feet.

"So," Tony said, "how many times have you lost control of your armor now?"

Rhodey looked embarrassed.

"...Twice."

Nobody said anything.

They quickly headed outside.

The Mandarin was still tied to the seat of the Jeep.

As Steve approached the vehicle, however, something immediately seemed wrong.

The Mandarin was slumped sideways with his eyes closed.

Completely motionless.

Had Killian come back and silenced him?

Steve rushed over.

He checked the door for an explosive trap before yanking it open.

A thunderous snore rolled out of the vehicle.

Steve stared.

The man was asleep.

Asleep.

In the middle of a kidnapping, surrounded by superheroes, with his terrorist organization falling apart around him.

The man’s nerves were apparently made of titanium.

Steve grabbed him by the collar and shook him awake.

"What is Killian planning?"

The Mandarin blinked.

Then his eyes widened with excitement when he recognized Captain America.

"Oh! My hero! Killian’s plan? I know about that. I can tell you."

"But you have to give me—"

"Done. I’ll sign whatever you want. Hell, I’ll carve my name into your shirt if that’s what it takes. Now tell me what he’s planning!"

The Mandarin immediately folded.

"As far as I know, their current plan involves a large ship near the coast."

He paused.

"And I think they’ve set their sights on the Vice President."

He looked hopefully at Steve.

"Oh, and you can sign my clothes. That would be perfect."

"What is the ship called?" Peggy asked. "And where is it?"

The Mandarin grimaced.

"I don’t know the exact location."

He wasn’t lying.

Although he’d played an important role in Killian’s operation, he was ultimately just a prop in someone else’s plan. Knowing this much was already more than anyone could reasonably expect from him.

"The ship’s name..." He frowned. "Something like... the L... Locks? Some kind of oil tanker."

"Lauckes Oil Tanker," Tony said.

JARVIS had already done the digging.

Tony’s expression sharpened.

"It spilled more than a million gallons of crude oil in Pensacola. Then somehow the whole mess got buried, and nobody ended up facing any legal consequences."

He looked at the others.

"Guess who pulled the strings?"

"Don’t keep us waiting."

"Right, Aunt Peggy."

Tony cleared his throat.

"The sitting President of the United States. The company that owns the tanker was one of his major backers during his presidential campaign. They donated a huge amount of money to help fund his election operation."

Peggy’s expression darkened.

"That’s certainly one way to demonstrate everything wrong with American politics."

But there was no time to debate political corruption.

She looked toward the others.

"Killian has a pattern. Before every terrorist attack, he makes sure there’s some kind of symbolism attached to it. If he’s using this ship as part of the operation, and we combine that with the terrorist broadcasts he’s already released..."

Her eyes narrowed.

"His target is the President."

Steve immediately understood.

"And now he’s targeting the Vice President too."

His jaw tightened.

"He intends to kill both heads of the U.S. government at once. He wants to throw the entire country, perhaps the entire Western world, into panic."

Killing the President and Vice President wouldn’t actually destroy the American government. The United States had a long line of succession with more than twenty people capable of assuming the presidency in an emergency.

But that wasn’t the point.

People wouldn’t feel reassured by the technicalities.

Would ordinary Americans really believe they were safer than the President and Vice President?

Would they believe their local schools and hospitals had better security than the nation’s two highest political offices?

If terrorists could kill the President and Vice President whenever they pleased, what hope did ordinary citizens have?

The government might continue functioning.

Society certainly wouldn’t.

There was nothing left to discuss.

They needed to stop Killian.

Immediately.

Using the yacht they’d obtained from the Mandarin, they headed toward the Lauckes oil tanker.

During the journey, Tony contacted the Vice President.

He skipped the pleasantries.

"Mr. Vice President, you and the President are in danger. You need to move to a secure location immediately."

The Vice President sounded completely unconcerned.

"Mr. Stark, I’m about to enjoy the finest honey-glazed ham I’ve ever had. My family and guests are all here, and we’re preparing for a rather large dinner."

He paused.

"And the President and Colonel Rhodes are aboard Air Force One. I’m sure they’re fine."

"Sir, I’m Colonel Rhodes."

Rhodey had taken the phone.

"They’re using the Iron Patriot as a Trojan horse. The goal is to assassinate the President."

The Vice President’s hand trembled.

The muscles in his face twitched.

The seriousness of the situation had finally broken through.

"All right. I’ll have the Secret Service take appropriate measures. If necessary, the F-22s can be airborne within minutes."

He hung up.

One of the agents responsible for his security noticed his expression and approached.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

The Vice President’s lips moved soundlessly for a moment.

His fists clenched.

For several seconds, he seemed to wrestle with the implications.

Then he slowly relaxed his hands.

His expression became grim.

"The man inside the Iron Patriot armor isn’t Colonel Rhodes."

He looked directly at the agent.

"It’s a terrorist."

The agent’s face went pale.

"Notify the President immediately. And have the Air Force prepare support for Air Force One."

The agent stared at him for half a second, making absolutely certain the Vice President wasn’t joking.

Then he hurried away and began transmitting an emergency message over a secure channel.

The Vice President remained where he was.

It should still be in time.

At least, he hoped it was.

His gaze drifted toward the interior of the room.

His young daughter, who had lost her right leg, sat in a wheelchair nearby.

Ross was beside her, smiling warmly as he played with her.

The Vice President watched them.

As though sensing his gaze, Ross turned.

A knowing smile appeared on his face.

It was the kind of smile that said he understood far more than he was letting on.