Xcalibur Xc
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[Ironman] Ch: 81 [No More Leashes]
🕑 Added 2025-05-02 13:34:31 +0000 UTC[Location: SHIELD HQ – War Room, Washington D.C]
The silence following Howard’s question was long and loaded.
Fury stood up and walked to the glass wall, one hand in his coat pocket, the other resting on the wall. Outside, it was dark. He could see the blinking lights from the police cars and the rush of military vehicles outside.
He didn’t turn to face them when he finally answered.
“Only time will tell,” His voice was low. Controlled. The kind of tone he used right before issuing a game-changing directive. “Right now, debating whether Shadow Legion is enemies or allies isn’t our priority. They’re doing what we should’ve done years ago. That’s on us.”
He slowly turned back to the table.
“Our job right now is to stabilize the fallout before every tin-pot warlord and opportunistic politician tries to fill the power vacuum.”
He looked pointedly at Peggy, then Howard, then Hank.
“The World Security Council is compromised. Half are dead, arrested, or in hiding. Shield's been used like a puppet for years. No more. This is our chance. We take the reins. We rebuild it the right way.”
Peggy leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowing. “You want Shield to be fully independent?”
“I want it uncorrupted,” Fury said flatly. “Answering to the people, not to the shadows behind glass. No more greasy handshakes behind closed doors. No more missions dictated by fear, money, or backroom politics.”
Hank raised an eyebrow. “And who exactly puts you in charge?”
Fury walked to the central console and tapped the screen. Data cascaded down... arrest logs, financial seizures, confirmed links between WSC members and the black projects exposed by Osborn’s confession.
“They just did,” Fury said. “Shadow Legion knocked over the chessboard. That means we choose how to set it back up. Shield’s global networks are still intact. We have access to clean intelligence, clean funding, and boots that haven’t been bought.”
Howard nodded slowly. “You want a clean slate.”
“No,” Fury said. “I want a loaded slate. With good people. With people who won’t hesitate to do the right thing just because a politician or a senator might get their hands dirty.”
Peggy crossed her arms. “You’re talking about rewriting the chain of command.”
“I’m talking about taking it back,” Fury said. “For good. Shield was meant to protect the world from threats it didn’t understand. Well, now we understand. We’ve seen what happens when oversight becomes manipulation.”
There was a long pause.
Howard glanced toward the screen. Footage continued to roll of cities erupting in protest and celebration alike. Entire continents shifting beneath the weight of a new world order.
“So what do you need from us?” Howard finally asked.
Fury smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
“I need you to help me build a new chain. One that no one can break. Not with money. Not with fear. Not with lies.”
He turned back to the screen, watching the chaos unfold, a storm he hadn’t started but now intended to ride.
“We don’t let this world fall apart,” he said. “We let it fall into place.”
The meeting continued on for a few hours...
[After the meeting]
The heavy doors to the war room hissed open as Peggy and Hank left the room. The moment the doors shut behind them, Fury turned slowly toward the only one who hadn’t moved.
Howard Stark.
Still leaning against the edge of the circular table, Howard had his arms crossed, gaze fixed on one of the overhead monitors. His jaw worked slightly, like he was grinding a thought behind clenched teeth. He didn’t look at Fury when he spoke.
“Not bad for a first draft of a revolution, huh?”
Fury stepped closer, arms folded behind his back, voice low. “You held your own during that attack on the helicarrier.”
Howard finally turned his head. “Still got a few moves left in the tank.”
Fury’s eye narrowed slightly. “More than a few. The suit you used… it was advanced. Fluid-based nanites. Smart-weapons. Adaptive shielding. That wasn’t something out of Stark Industries, is it?”
Howard didn’t flinch. Instead, he looked down at his wrist.
The vintage-looking watch on his arm gave the faintest shimmer as he tapped its surface. The nanites beneath the metal pulsed, barely visible through a quick skin-thin flicker of blue light.
“It’s not mine,” Howard said simply. “Not really.”
Fury raised an eyebrow. “Then whose is it?”
Howard paused.
Looked up.
And said with perfect calm, “A gift.”
Fury stepped closer, his tone sharpening. “From who?”
Howard’s expression didn’t change. He just smiled... just a little, that old Stark grin with none of the warmth.
“Someone who believed I needed to stop being a relic.”
Fury let the words hang in the air, the unspoken tension vibrating between them.
“You’re saying someone gave you bleeding-edge tech like that… as a favor?”
Howard turned his wrist slightly, and the watch shimmered again, this time forming a brief outline of the full armor’s structure in the air... holographic, green, beautiful.
“No. Not a favor,” Howard said. “A reminder.”
Fury narrowed his eye again. “A reminder of what?”
Howard looked at him. Dead serious.
“That we’re out of time.”
He let that sink in, then deactivated the display with a flick.
Fury crossed his arms again, frustration prickling behind his words. “You know, if Shield operatives had tech like that... hell, if even ten of my best people had it back during the attacks, things would’ve turned out a lot cleaner. We might still have that symbiote in our possession.”
Howard tilted his head slightly. “Maybe. Or maybe they’d have become just another batch of super-soldiers on a leash. And we both know how that ends.”
Fury said nothing.
Howard closed the hologram and stood up, stretching his arms.
“Nick… this suit, this tech... it’s not something you just hand out like rifles. You don’t deploy it unless the whole world’s already on fire.”
“And is it?” Fury asked.
Howard held his gaze.
“Getting there.”
Fury exhaled slowly, his voice quieter now. “Then maybe it’s time you tell me who’s really behind it. Because the Shadow Legion agents were using similar suits."
Howard gave a dry laugh and turned toward the window, hands slipping into his pockets.
“You know what they say about ghosts, Nick,” he said over his shoulder. “You don’t chase them.”
He walked out without another word.
Fury stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door.
Then he muttered under his breath.
“You don’t chase them… but sooner or later, they stop hiding.”
...
[Next Day – En Route to the Arctic – Howard Stark’s Private Plane] [9:42 AM]
The quiet hum of the engines was the only sound filling the cabin.
Peggy sat near the window, rigid in her seat, arms crossed tight across her chest. She hadn’t said more than a few words since takeoff.
Her foot tapped.
Her hand clenched the armrest.
She stared out the window like it owed her answers.
Howard, seated across from her, was sipping coffee and watching her with a mix of patience and concern. The third time she exhaled sharply, he set the mug down.
“You’ve tapped out about six Morse Code variations in the last twenty minutes,” he said gently. “If you start spelling SOS, I might have to jump.”
Peggy didn’t smile.
Didn’t even look at him.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the clouds. “Seventy years, Howard.”
“I know.”
“He’s been alone. Frozen. God knows what kind of damage... neurological, psychological, physical…” She exhaled sharply, her voice cracking despite her effort to hold it together. “What if he’s not the same man anymore?”
Howard leaned forward, setting the cup down. “Peg...”
“What if...?” She couldn't finish her words.
That made Howard pause.
She finally turned to him. Her eyes weren’t wet, but they were brimming. Years of strength holding the flood back.
Peggy looked down at her hands. “But what if he doesn’t even remember me?"
Howard shifted, leaning his arms on his knees. “Look. I’ve known Steve a long time. Not as long as you, sure, but long enough. And here’s what I do know: that man is stubborn. Ridiculously, stupidly stubborn. If there was ever a person who could stay alive and keep his soul intact through seven decades of ice and isolation, it’s Steve Rogers.”
He sat back again and offered a crooked smile. “Besides, even if he's injured... The one who found him has technology far beyond your imagination. Trust me. Things will get better. Don't lose hope."
Peggy tried to smile.
It didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She glanced down at the small photo sticking out from the inside flap of her coat, a faded black-and-white of her and Steve, laughing on a base somewhere before everything changed. She touched it with two fingers, briefly.
“I lost him once,” she said quietly. “I’m not ready to do it again.”
Howard looked out the window. The ice fields below were beginning to appear between breaks in the cloud cover.
“You won’t have to,” he said. “This time, you’re bringing him home.”
A soft ping echoed through the cabin.
The pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “Approaching drop zone. ETA ten minutes. Coordinates confirmed. Weather is clear but visibility may reduce on descent.”
---
AN: 1 more chapter to wrap up Captain America. Then, focus on Stark Expo. Time to meet Sue.
Comments
Xcalibur Xc
The time is kinda messed up. I am not good with dates.🥲🥲 That's why I don't show the dates, day or ages. Sorry about that.
CkLance
Wouldn't it have only been a bit over 50 years since Steve was frozen by this point?
