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Portland, Maine
Derek Borons sat looking around the room of other strangers gathered at this 'pat-yourself-on-the-back-Iron Army/Ferrum function'. These parties happened every few months to remind the rich of their place; even though they had cash and were almost law unto themselves, the Iron Army put them there and will easily put them out on the street. Just like what happened to the Reilley's in New York and their son who turned out to be a Spider.
Derek shuddered at the thought of spiders, they made his skin crawl. His family had had an interesting history with spiders in all ways, shapes and forms. His family changed their name, a simple rearrangement of letters, to keep from being killed like great-great-great whatever Norman Osborn. Derek smiled politely as a robo-waiter refilled his glass and he flipped quietly through his holo-pad. He chuckled at the fanatic, xenophobic rants Jameson had about this creature roaming New York. The old buzzard always was in a flap about something.
Derek clicked another link, some more Iron Army propaganda about vampires. Derek scoffed, the amount of nonsense the holo-feeds ran each and every day to keep the masses fearful, scared and pliable to their aims. He clicked another link about Baron Zemo and the Avengers. Two teams emerging simultaneously, both at loggerheads with the establishment but one clearly evil and the other on the side of angels.
Derek smiled and clapped as a new General took the stage to waffle on about something. What was needed as a group somewhere inbetween. Slipping between the shadows, a legion or pack of sorts who could fight the good fight if need be or rip the starking hell out of you when needed. And not a stupid name like Avengers; what were they avenging anyway? No clear motives or goals, more like rescuers.
Derek motioned for another wine as he clicked on private holo- message from an old classmate, Professor Brown
"Hello Derek" the hologram of the tense and sweaty little man said "Could you come to New York. I need you to repay that favour I did you five years ago. You owe me! I wouldn't call otherwise"
Derek mused on the message and quickly purged it from his holo-pad. He waited for a break in the speech before excusing himself and heading for his hover-car.
"Leaving so soon?"
Derek stopped to see the stunning Colonel Daria Ngyuen standing in the lobby smoking a long filtered cigarette. She was quarter Vietnamese, quarter Peruvadorian, quarter French and quarter Persian and totally, completely beautiful. Her piercing brown eyes hardly ever blinked to match her crimson lips that barely ever smiled.
"My dear Daria" smiled Derek taking her hand "There is only so much stark a man can listen too" He gently kissed her hand before she snatched it back.
"The General wants to know..."
"Then General Macendale, can ask me himself, on Monday, in my office" said Derek clicking his fingers at the robo-valet for his car "I don't work for the Iron Army Daria, you know that"
"Everyone works for the Iron Army Derek" she retorted taking a long draw and blowing the smoke out her nose.
"I supply vitamin boosters and supplements to the highest bidder" said Derek snatching the keys "At the moment it's the army. But I hear there's a new Queen in Latveria...and a new regime means..."
Daria grabbed him by the forearm "Watch your tone Borons!"
Derek looked down at her hand and then back into her eyes "Colonel...remove your hand, before this turns into an incident"
The pair stared long into each others eyes, before she released him and Derek stormed off and got into his car
-Where to?- asked the onboard computer
"New York, now!" snarled Derek as the car took of into the sky.
**
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