---
Meanwhile—
California, Edwards Air Force Base
The explosion at the weapons depot caught the military's attention. An unauthorized flying object had also appeared on the radar, though the satellites could only detect a fast-moving heat source that couldn't be locked on.
When it was confirmed that the explosion wasn't part of any Air Force operation, immediate inquiries were sent to the CIA, Navy, and Army. All responded the same way: "Not us." Some even asked if it was an Air Force operation.
After coming up empty, a commanding officer spoke:
"Get Colonel Rhodes from the Weapons R&D Division. Now."
Rhodes arrived promptly, just as personnel were finishing up a status report.
"We've cross-checked every known database. Nothing."
He asked as he walked in, "Do we have high-altitude surveillance in that area?"
An African American airman responded, "Yes, sir. There's an AWACS system and a Global Hawk recon drone stationed nearby."
"So you're saying this thing just appeared out of nowhere?" Rhodes asked.
"Why didn't it show up on radar?"
A soldier explained, "Its radar cross-section is too small, sir."
"Invisible tech?" Rhodes asked.
"No, sir. It's just... very small."
"We believe it may be an unmanned drone."
The officer in charge turned to Rhodes. "Colonel, any idea what this thing is?"
Rhodes paused, remembering when Tony Stark came by the base months ago, saying he had a big project and wanted Rhodes to join. He turned him down at the time. Could this be what Tony was talking about?
"I need to make a call. Sergeant, give me the room."
---
Tony Stark, flying back home, received a call from Rhodes.
"Hey, Tony?"
"Who is this?"
"It's Rhodes."
Tony glanced at the caller ID on his helmet's HUD and teased, "Sorry, what was that?"
"I said—it's Rhodes."
"Speak up, man!"
Rhodes heard static. "What's with all the noise?"
"Oh, just cruising in my convertible," Tony lied.
Rhodes covered one ear to hear better. "I need your help."
Tony chuckled. "Well, now this is interesting."
"Karma's a bitch, huh?"
Rhodes ignored him and got to the point. "Listen, not far from where you were held captive, a weapons depot just got blown up."
Tony cut him off, "That area's already a mess."
"Looks like someone stepped in and finished your job, huh?"
Rhodes asked suspiciously, "Why are you out of breath, Tony?"
"I'm... out jogging in the canyon," Tony lied again.
"I thought you said you were in your car?"
"I parked by the canyon, figured I'd stretch my legs," Tony said without missing a beat.
After a short pause, Rhodes asked, "Is there anything over there I should know about?"
"Nope."
Just then, a soldier in the command room shouted, "Target located! Two F-22 Raptors have visual."
Rhodes watched the feed and muttered, "Perfect. That thing's about to be blown to hell."
Tony noticed the two Raptors closing in. After a high-stakes aerial maneuvering session, he accidentally crashed one of them. Luckily, the pilot ejected safely with no injuries.
Though his new suit had been exposed, Tony came clean to his old friend, Colonel Rhodes, and promised to cover the costs for the downed jet.
Back home at his villa, Tony was in the process of getting out of the suit with help from his robotic arms—when Pepper Potts walked in.
She stared at the suit's bullet holes in shock.
"Okay, okay, you caught me!"
---
Elsewhere—
Deep in the gulag, Red Guardian—Alexei Shostakov—continued his daily routine: arm wrestling and bragging. It was one of the few things he enjoyed in prison.
He'd just easily defeated an opponent and began boasting:
"You'd never believe it—I once had control over Russia's nuclear launch codes."
Another huge inmate approached and sat down across from Alexei, arm outstretched.
"You probably did win," the man said sarcastically, "considering Captain America's been dead for almost 60 years."
Alexei locked hands with him and said flatly, "Captain America—Steve Rogers."
With a grunt, he slammed the man's arm down with ease.
Raising his fists triumphantly, Alexei shouted:
"A new era for the Red Guardian has arrived!"
"Without their precious Captain, America will fall to my iron fist!"
"Even if he were still alive, he wouldn't stand a chance against me in a one-on-one brawl!"
"I don't need to carry a shield around like a pacifier!"
But as he bragged, an even bigger man sat down and asked:
"So why does he have a museum celebrating his heroism while you're stuck rotting in this hole?"
The question gave Alexei pause. Then he glared.
"You mocking me, Little Bear?"
The room went silent.
A second later—CRACK—Alexei snapped the man's wrist like a twig. The man howled in pain while Alexei roared with laughter.
He might be full of it, but no one here had the strength to call him out.
Just then, the prison loudspeakers buzzed:
"Alexei Shostakov. You've got mail."
Alexei smirked. "Look at this big bear cry. Go on, sob, little girl."
He threw on a jacket and walked toward the guard station.
At the mail pickup, a guard sneered, "Well, well, the famous Red Guardian. Tell your fans to send more butter next time, will ya?"
Clearly, the guard had eaten the contents.
Another guard pushed a drawer out. Inside were a torn-up letter and a toy figurine.
"Hurry up and take it."
Alexei scowled at the guards but said nothing. He picked up the letter and the toy—a Red Guardian action figure.
He sat down, holding the toy in his hands, quietly examining it.
Back in the Cold War, he had been the Soviet Union's answer to Captain America. But thanks to Dreykov's delayed plans—and the USSR's collapse—he ended up dumped in this prison.
—End of chapter—
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