Chapter 553

"You’re really useless, Tony."

Peggy Carter’s blunt assessment left Tony Stark feeling distinctly unappreciated.

He had been involved in this whole mess from beginning to end. He’d sent his armor in to help. He’d done his part.

So why did it feel like he’d had absolutely no presence in the entire affair?

Just as Tony was quietly nursing that grievance, Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes approached with a phone in hand.

"I just finished speaking with the Vice President," Rhodes told them. "He confirmed that Air Force One is safe. Several Secret Service agents were killed, but the President and everyone else are unharmed. They’re preparing to make an emergency landing at the nearest airport."

The call Rhodes had just ended had been with the Vice President.

And the Vice President was currently in a secure room, sitting across from Ross.

Ever since this whole affair had begun, the man had been unable to shake the feeling that he was walking on a knife’s edge.

The stakes had been enormous.

If everything succeeded, he’d reach the pinnacle of political power.

If everything failed, he’d end up behind bars.

There was no comfortable middle ground.

More than once, he’d wondered why he’d gotten involved in something this insane in the first place.

He was already a powerful man. He was the Vice President of the United States, after all. Why risk everything by gambling alongside a group of lunatics?

Was it concern for his daughter?

Or had he simply been unable to resist the temptation of greater power?

Whatever the reason, he’d already stepped aboard the ship. There was no getting off until it reached shore or sank beneath the waves.

Then Ross had unexpectedly thrown him a lifeboat.

Now that the crisis was over, the enormous weight pressing on his chest had finally lifted.

It hadn’t landed where he’d hoped it would.

But at least it had landed.

Ross sat comfortably in the room, a cigar between his fingers as smoke curled lazily around him.

He studied the Vice President’s miserable expression and chuckled.

"What is that face for? Regretting your choice? Thinking I ruined your big opportunity?"

"Of course not."

The Vice President answered immediately.

He wouldn’t dare offend Ross now.

A man capable of pulling him out of the water was equally capable of kicking him straight back in.

"I hope you mean that."

Ross tapped ash from his cigar.

His expression darkened.

"What you were trying to accomplish should have been a straight line from beginning to end. I had no objection to throwing up a few smokescreens along the way. Creating the Mandarin as a convenient terrorist scapegoat was actually a sensible move. After an incident this large, having someone like him take the blame would have been ideal."

He paused.

"But your partner..."

Ross’s expression hardened.

"Aldrich Killian was far too good at creating problems that didn’t need to exist."

The Vice President remained silent.

"He dragged far too many people who should have stayed out of the plan into the conflict. He attacked two Avengers simultaneously and failed to kill either of them. That allowed more and more Avengers to become involved."

Ross took another drag from his cigar.

"And then there was Tony Stark. You had him. You’d already captured him. All you had to do was kill him."

His voice became colder.

"Instead, Killian hesitated. He kept worrying about the consequences and failed to make a decision when it mattered. Tony Stark was rescued by Peggy Carter and Captain America."

Ross stared directly at the Vice President.

"From that moment onward, your defeat was inevitable."

The Vice President closed his eyes and nodded.

Ross was right.

Their chosen partner had been a disaster.

Killian’s objective had been ambitious, and his plan had actually been workable. The problem had been execution.

He’d taken something relatively simple and turned it into a tangled disaster.

Four Avengers who should have remained neutral had been dragged directly onto the opposing side.

It had started as a five-versus-five game.

Killian had somehow managed to turn it into four-versus-ten.

"You see?" Ross said. "I didn’t interfere with your plan."

He extinguished his cigar in the ashtray.

"I saved your life."

"Thank you."

The Vice President meant it.

He’d finally understood what would have happened if he hadn’t listened to Ross after receiving that call from Rhodes.

If he’d stubbornly followed the original plan, military police would probably be taking him into custody right now.

"You have nothing left to worry about."

Ross rose from his chair and straightened his clothes.

"Killian is dead. Everything you did dies with him. No one knows the truth, and no one has any reason to connect you to what happened."

He looked toward the Vice President.

"You can continue exercising your authority as Vice President. Even if rumors unfavorable to you emerge in the future, they’ll be dismissed as nothing more than baseless speculation."

The Vice President stood and saw Ross to the door.

As he did, he stole a glance at the older man.

No one knows?

You people know everything.

Still, consequences had to be accepted.

And this outcome was already far better than he had any right to expect.

The thought of silencing Ross and eliminating the evidence had never seriously crossed his mind.

Ross wouldn’t have come alone to discuss something this dangerous without leaving some kind of insurance behind.

The Vice President wasn’t foolish enough to test that assumption.

"By the way, Mr. Vice President."

Ross suddenly stopped.

He turned around and extended his hand.

"It’s been a pleasure working with you. Here’s to this cooperation, and to what comes next."

The Vice President looked at the offered hand for a moment before taking it.

"I believe it will be a pleasure."

He didn’t say the rest aloud.

And if it isn’t, I’ll be the one suffering for it.

Still, cooperating with Ross, or more accurately, the people behind Ross, seemed like an excellent choice.

They had already demonstrated that they could hold his life in their hands.

More importantly, he’d witnessed how they operated.

They had barely appeared to do anything throughout the entire crisis.

Yet at every crucial moment, they’d given the situation the smallest possible push.

Then they’d simply collected the rewards.

That kind of patience and strength was vastly more impressive than anything Killian had demonstrated.

Perhaps, if he performed well in future cooperation and consistently protected their interests, he might eventually earn something even greater.

Perhaps one day, through perfectly legitimate and lawful means, he could remove that deeply irritating word from his title.

Vice.

The possibility alone was intoxicating.

After leaving the Vice President’s home, Ross climbed into his car and drove away.

He sat in the back seat with his eyes closed, saying nothing.

He was still savoring the feeling from the meeting.

For most of his life, Ross had believed that becoming a general in the United States military would be the absolute peak of his career.

With enough accomplishments, he could even leave his name in the history books.

Back then, however, the Vice President had occupied an entirely different position in Ross’s eyes.

A much bigger one.

Ross had once been the man who saluted when they met.

Now?

After climbing back from his lowest point, Ross had watched that same Vice President sit before him with complete deference.

Power.

Accomplishment.

Authority.

The taste was intoxicating.

Ross suddenly opened his eyes.

A sharp gleam flashed through them.

There was still something he didn’t understand.

Those two women had been the ones who’d pushed him back into a position of power.

Just how powerful were they?

And how much strength did their company truly possess?

Ross leaned back.

"The Triumvirate..."

He smiled faintly.

"I’ve met two of them now."

His eyes narrowed with curiosity.

"I’d really like to meet the third."

"What kind of person is she?"