Marvel: A.T.L.A.S. - Ghost Protocol

New York City - June 1987

Rain fell in sheets outside the Stark Industries R&D facility. Caspian sat in an unmarked car across the street, Emperor Eye tracking Howard Stark through the building's windows. 3 AM, and the man was still in his office, tumbler of scotch in one hand, classified documents in the other.

"Target's been inside for sixteen hours," the A.T.L.A.S. surveillance team reported through his earpiece. "Three calls to military contacts. Two meetings with unnamed officials. Alcohol consumption steady since 8 PM."

Caspian's fingers traced the edge of a manila folder on the passenger seat. Inside: photographs of Howard meeting with known arms dealers, financial records showing discrepancies in weapons shipments, transcripts of increasingly erratic phone calls. The evidence was mounting, but the purpose remained unclear.

His secure phone vibrated. Tony's name on the screen.

"You checking up on dear old dad too?" Tony's voice carried forced casualness. "Because either you're parked outside SI for the view, or we're both having a very late night."

Caspian didn't bother denying it. Years of friendship had taught them both when lies were pointless. "How long have you known?"

"That A.T.L.A.S. is watching him? Please. Give me some credit." A pause. "He's getting worse, isn't he?"

"Tony—"

"Don't. Just... tell me if I need to be worried. Actually worried."

The Emperor Eye caught Howard's sudden movement in the office. The older Stark was now arguing with someone on the phone, gesturing violently with his drink.

"Not about what you're thinking," Caspian said carefully. "But yes. Be worried."

Silence on the line. Then: "Buy you a drink? I know a place that won't ask why we're both awake at this hour."

"Can't. Work."

"Right. The family business." Tony's bitter laugh held no humor. "You know, sometimes I think you got the better deal. At least your family's secrets make sense."

The line went dead. Across the street, Howard slammed down his phone and reached for the bottle again.

"Sir," the surveillance team cut in. "Director Valemont is requesting an update."

Caspian started the car. "Maintain position. Full recording suite. I need everything he does, says, or writes."

The secure A.T.L.A.S. facility in Manhattan was housed beneath a defunct subway station. Carrie Valemont stood at a tactical display, examining data streams from multiple operations. She didn't look up as Caspian entered.

"Report."

"Howard's spiraling," Caspian said simply. "But it's coordinated. The weapons shipments, the mysterious meetings—he's building toward something."

"The military contracts?"

"Cover. The real activity is happening through shell companies. Q Division traced three shipments to facilities in Eastern Europe."

Carrie's eyes narrowed slightly. "The same region as our enhanced human research facilities."

"Yes." Caspian placed a data stick on the table. "And there's more. Howard's been accessing old SSR files. Specifically, anything related to Project Rebirth."

That got her full attention. "You think he's involved with the enhancement program?"

"No. But I think he knows something about it. Something that's driving him to—" Caspian stopped as his secure phone buzzed again. A message from one of his sources inside Stark Industries: Howard was on the move.

"Go," Carrie ordered. "But Caspian? Remember—Howard Stark has been a valuable ally to this organization. Handle this with appropriate discretion."

The rain had gotten worse. Caspian followed Howard's car at a careful distance, Emperor Eye noting every turn, every traffic light, every possible tail. The older Stark's driving was erratic, but purposeful. He had a destination in mind.

The car finally stopped outside a private storage facility in Queens. Howard stumbled slightly getting out, but his movements as he entered the security code were precise. Whatever was affecting him, it hadn't impaired his operational security.

Caspian waited ten minutes before approaching. The Emperor Eye mapped the facility's security systems, finding the gaps. Inside, Howard's footsteps echoed from the back of the building.

The storage unit was filled with old SSR equipment, dusty files, and what looked like prototype weapons. Howard stood at a workbench, examining something small and glowing.

"I wondered when Carrie would send you." Howard didn't turn around. "Tell her... tell her she's right to be concerned. But this is bigger than A.T.L.A.S.. Bigger than any of us."

"What are you involved in, Howard?"

"The better question is: what was I involved in?" He finally turned, eyes fever-bright. "We thought we understood what we were doing back then. The serum, the experiments, all of it. We were children playing with fire."

The Emperor Eye caught the subtle movement of Howard's hand toward a hidden weapon. Caspian tensed, but didn't move.

"And now?" he asked quietly.

"Now?" Howard laughed, harsh and broken. "Now the fire's spreading. And I don't know if I can stop it this time."

The silence stretched between them, heavy with decades of secrets and regret.