Marvel's Iron Lady

Miss Stark's words left Dr. Yinsen deep in thought, just as four Black Hawk helicopters, the most common military transport in use, approached their hilltop location.

As Colonel Rhodes tore open the door and jumped out with a team of fully-armed U.S. Special Forces soldiers, Miss Stark greeted them with a smile.

"Morning, Rhodey, or maybe evening—I've lost track of time since I couldn't even get hold of a lousy watch."

"Thank God we found you—listen, Natasha, things have gone completely haywire back home. You need to get in touch as soon as possible, or it's just going to keep getting worse."

Standing next to her, Rhodes's normally tight face relaxed in relief as he handed her a satellite phone and cast a curious glance at Dr. Yinsen.

And yet, even during her detention in that cave, Miss Stark had followed the situation back home closely. The wave of public outcry sparked by her disappearance looked like the reaction of two mega-corporations suddenly missing their leader, creating ripples for thousands whose interests were tied to hers.

But behind that media frenzy, she had also nudged events forward with a few pushes through Jarvis. The bigger the uproar, the more pressure her companies would feel, and ultimately, this worked to her advantage.

With the CEO kidnapped and the company operations at a standstill, social unrest was rampant as people began questioning Stark Industries' and Disaster Control Corp.'s stability. At the first sign of stockholder panic, many assumed that both enterprises were on a downward spiral without their leader at the helm.

Fearing losses, investors opted to sell shares, triggering a drop not only in Stark Industries' stock but also among Disaster Control's shareholders. Waiting patiently, Jarvis scooped up the shares at below-market prices, bringing Miss Stark's holdings back into her control.

After a moment's thought, she used the satellite phone to contact Obadiah Stane. His response was an immediate scolding, blaming her stubbornness for running off to a war-torn area like Afghanistan. He reminded her how her disappearance had ground operations to a halt and urged her to reflect on her actions. Then, his tone softened as he asked if she was hurt, or if she needed anything, offering to arrange help immediately.

Finally, he insisted that she return at once and have the military increase her security for the journey back, or he would make sure the U.S. government paid for it.

Hearing his words, Miss Stark was at a loss for a response, and unsure what expression to make. Stane might be greedy, crafty, and fond of scheming, but he also viewed her as a daughter and cared for her deeply.

Perhaps the previous Stark would have made him pay for his betrayals, but she was no longer that person.

After a long sigh, she simply replied, "Understood," and ended the call.

During her weeklong absence, Stane, though retired, had returned to stabilize the group and keep things in check. This was not only a significant contribution but also a clear sign that he was still on her side.

After returning the satellite phone to Colonel Rhodes, she led Dr. Yinsen, still deep in thought, back to the U.S. air base outside Bagram.

"Have you made up your mind, Dr. Yinsen? Will you return to the U.S. with me, or are you planning to travel on your own?"

Standing at the bottom of her private jet's stairs, she glanced at Yinsen, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. She smiled, but his answer caught her off guard.

"I'm grateful you'd take me in, but…why are you so insistent on bringing me to America? And what did you mean by 'witnessing a world transformation'?"

After a long period of deliberation, he finally spoke, preferring the prospect of working in the U.S. to accepting a staggering reward for his part in their survival. What piqued his curiosity most, however, was her earlier comment—witnessing the world's transformation.

"What on earth could be changing to require such a transformation?"

"Hmm…just a hunch," she replied, looking at him with a small shake of her head. "I'm not sure what changes will happen, but I find it interesting."

They had come to Afghanistan as a pair and were returning in the same way, albeit with a new companion.

The effects of her disappearance were widespread enough that Stark Industries requested the military to withhold the news of her safety until she could announce it herself. For a conglomerate as large as Stark Industries, any news—whether positive or negative—could easily spark another wave of crisis or opportunity.

Colonel Rhodes, who had arrived with her, chose to stay to assist General Marcus at Bagram, especially now, as every step had to be carefully managed following such a major incident.

Miss Stark herself, meanwhile, returned with her newly recruited engineer, preparing to head home.

"Jarvis, what's the status?"

"Miss, you predicted everything perfectly. The situation at home is unfolding exactly as you foresaw."

Even with the modifications to her private jet, crossing half the world to return to the U.S. would take hours, during which she stayed in close communication with Jarvis.

"And the stock buybacks?"

As she dealt with the chaos at home caused by her absence, it was clear she had other priorities in mind.

"Because of the disparity in shareholder quality among both companies' stakeholders, some chose to sell shares simply because others were doing so to mitigate losses. Disaster Control's stock buyback, following the previous dilution, allowed us to reclaim a bit more, at around 12%. However, Stark Industries' internal factions were more divided, and we only secured around 2.98% of total shares. My apologies, Miss, I failed to meet your expectations."

Hearing Jarvis's report, she gave a slight nod without any change in expression.

"That old man moved too quickly. He stabilized the group, but his intervention prevented any chaos among employees or board members, which kept us from buying back shares as planned. This wasn't your fault, dear."

The "old man" she spoke of was, of course, Obadiah Stane. After she officially inherited the conglomerate, he had retired, though his annual dividends were still substantial thanks to his stake.

Upon her kidnapping, he hadn't hesitated to step in, stabilizing Stark Industries, which some might find moving, as though the Stane and Stark families were united. Realistically, though, he mainly wanted to preserve the value of his shares, his hard-earned nest egg accumulated over decades of service.

If Stark Industries were to falter due to a leadership vacuum, it would cut directly into his profits, something he would never accept.

He stepped in quickly, maintaining Stark Industries' stability, which could have benefited them both. Yet, he had no idea that she'd intended to capitalize on the chaos.

She had wanted to reclaim her shares and remove the parasites on the board. But due to Stane's involvement, her buyback plan failed—disappointing.

"Understood, I'll handle the specifics once I'm back."

"Right, and one more thing—initiate Project Homecoming."

As though remembering something, she paused and added, "Also, inform the factory to deliver the technical schematics for the Iron Suit to the lab at Stark Tower. It's time to get started on our project."

Inside the aircraft cabin, Yinsen sat uneasily at the high barstool, casting anxious glances at the redwood door leading to the central bedroom. His face was a mix of excitement and worry.

He was apprehensive about his future, unsure what awaited him once the plane landed. Yet he was thrilled by the offer Miss Stark had just made him before heading to the bedroom.

"Here's your reward—a one-hundred-million-dollar credit card, with Stark Industries covering all your expenses. The password's your birthday, so don't lose it. It's non-traceable—congratulations! Being rich is an interesting feeling, isn't it?"

"And no need to look at me like that. At our level, finding someone's details isn't difficult, and besides—I'm not short on money."

Before entering the bedroom, she had placed a black, untraceable VISA card on the bar and pushed it toward Yinsen.

Miss Stark indeed had no shortage of funds. Just days prior, her deal with the U.S. Department of Defense had landed Stark Industries a massive $45 billion weapons contract. Congress approved the funds, sending them directly into Stark Industries' account, and she was now basking in the windfall.

After accounting for costs, taxes, operating expenses, and other financial reserves, she could easily net a personal profit of billions—most of it tax-free—making her all the richer.

Even an enterprise as vast as Stark Industries couldn't risk tax issues, as the IRS wouldn't hesitate to investigate.

The order's completion was still under wraps; an order of almost $50 billion would make any company a market darling and an instant investor favorite. When the deal was finalized, she had discussed it with Obadiah, and they decided to delay the announcement to maximize the company's prestige.

Miss Stark hadn't forgotten that her trip to Afghanistan wasn't only to rescue someone but also to build her public image.

She needed her employees to see that there were greater benefits to working for her than they could find with the board.

Some might call it slow—primitive, even. She possessed the Reality Stone, after all, and could summon money from thin air. But where was the thrill in that?

Yinsen, however, was unmoved as he looked at the credit card worth one hundred million. With a sigh, he pushed it back toward her.

To most, the chance to hold a hundred-million-dollar card, given freely by the world's largest arms dealer, would seem like an impossible dream, but Yinsen didn't accept it.

"I can't take the money. I'm more interested in the work you mentioned."

Seeing him refuse, Miss Stark raised her eyebrows, a faint smirk of surprise on her face.

"I'm just a regular mechanical engineer, with some emergency medical training. There are plenty like me."

"Then let me ask, do you have a dream?"

To her, someone who could turn down a hundred million was a person of integrity, someone pure-hearted.

Her initial skepticism dissolved, replaced by a new purpose. She wanted to help Dr. Yinsen realize his dream as repayment.

"To be honest…I've always wanted to be a designer, to rebuild my hometown. But it's gone now, wiped off the map."

His hesitant reply reached her ears, prompting a small, warm smile.

"Well, as it happens, I have a project that might need a designer—perhaps you can be the one to bring it to life."

She was speaking, of course, of her plan for a superhero community, for which her lawyers were already in talks with New York's city government over land rights. Her intention was to expand the Disaster Control residential zone to create a base for the hero community.

She had no issue allowing a novice designer like Yinsen to help realize her project, especially given that he was the one who had saved her life.

Within minutes, Miss Stark had found Yinsen the job of his dreams, then went to contact Jarvis to get an update on the situation back home. Not everything was suitable for Dr. Yinsen to hear, so she decided to head to the bedroom to speak privately with Jarvis.

Before leaving, she pushed the credit card back toward Yinsen.

"I keep my promises—this one hundred million dollars is a reward I pledged, and it's yours. If you don't want it, you can donate it to the International Committee of the Red Cross or the World Health Organization, under your name."

With that, she turned and walked into the bedroom, leaving a bewildered Yinsen seated alone at the bar.

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