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The two iron men ran through the Thunderbolts complex, batting aside guards as they ran. Iron Man stopped, lifted both hands, and fired a twin repulsor blast at a nearby Bio-Sentinel, cleanly severing both its arms from its body. The cyborg kept coming, however, and Iron Man readied himself for the charge. War Machine lifted an arm, and fired a mini-rocket at the Sentinel. The rocket crashed into the cybernetic monstrosity and slammed it through a wall, showing pieces of flesh and metal about the area. “Show off.” Jim Rhodes says, looking to War Machine. “Mom says I get it from you and Uncle Tony.” Justin replies, grinning beneath the helmet. “Where did she say you got your smart mouth from?” Jim asks. “Oh, she takes full credit for that one.” Justin retorts. “Thought so.” Iron Man says, firing up his thrusters and heading skyward. Justin follows him easily, the armored suit following his mental commands. The new interface he and Dad worked on was going well, and improved his reaction time, but Justin still felt it could be faster. If only there was a way to link the armor directly to his nervous system and neural synapses, it would improve his reaction time even more, and cut precious seconds off all the speed and maneuvering trials they constantly put the armors through. Dad said Uncle Tony was working on something like that before he died, but the project information was password locked and encrypted. They’d have to figure out something on their own. The pair landed at the edge of the cliff that the base was built into, and found themselves standing besides the remaining Avengers... …and directly into the face of Norman Osborn, the Thunderbolts, every registered mutant and hero they’d gained over the last few years, and no less than twelve OsCorp Sentinels.
Osborn smiled like the cat that ate the canary. “You can all lay down your weapons and register, and nothing further needs to happen. Rhodes, you’ll even get your wife back in one whole piece.”
Justin raised an arm, a small-calibun automatic gun rose from the back of his gauntlet. A red dot from the laser-targeting reticule appeared on Norman’s forehead. “Counter-offer.” War Machine snapped back. “You surrender, give back Mrs. Rhodes, and you’ll live to see trial.” “Justin…” Jim said, keeping his eyes on Osborn. “Thunderbolts, if War Machine doesn’t lower his arm in five seconds, attack. Venom, you have my permission to eat him.” Norman says. Venom drools at the prospect, staring hard at War Machine.
Justin’s arm doesn’t move a fraction of an inch.
“Five.” Osborn says, counting down. “War Machine, stand down.” Iron Man says.
“Four.”
“War Machine. Stand. Down.” Iron Man commands. At three, the red target vanishes from Osborn’s forehead as Justin lowers his arm. Osborn smiles again.
“Next time you have someone dead to rights, son, take the shot. Might be the last chance you get.” Norman says. “Thunderbolts…kill them all.” Norman commands.
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