This wasn't his first rescue expedition.
But it was the first time someone so close to him was in trouble.
Well, almost the first time.
There was a one time, when some mofos had taken hostage the woman who had cared for him at the orphanage, his affectionate Nana, who was like a grandmother to him.
And,
That had been a terrible, disgusting day—for the criminals.
They were never seen again.
Thomas pushed those memories aside. Now wasn't the time to dwell on the past. The ground was rushing up to meet him, and he braced himself, drawing his knees together.
*Boom*
He landed hard at the airport, the impact cracking the rubble beneath him and forming a small crater. "Crap," Thomas muttered, stepping over the debris towards the runway. Normally, he would have been more graceful, but his anger had made him less restrained. He knew Tony would be fine, but the uncertainty gnawed at him.
"Hey, boss!" a male voice called out from up ahead.
Thomas looked up to see his personal transport plane waiting for him on the tarmac. It was a necessity for missions like this, where international travel was required. Finding a plane that could accommodate his massive height had been a challenge, so he had to splurge on this kind of plane.
This Airbus A300-600ST transport aircraft stood out for its unique coloring. Instead of the standard white color, the fuselage of the aircraft was painted in dark gray and black tones reminiscent of the coloration of a sea shark.
The aircraft's hull was covered in intricate graphics, with large jaws and sharp teeth depicted on the nose, creating an intimidating and predatory image. Fins and characteristic dark stripes were applied to the sides of the fuselage, further enhancing the resemblance to a marine predator.
The tail fins were also styled to resemble the dorsal fin of a shark, further enhancing the cargo giant's impressive appearance.
This distinctive design was personally conceived and commissioned by Thomas. He engaged a team of artists and airbrush artists to realise his vision. This "Shark" image was meticulously crafted to create the most striking and memorable appearance possible.
It attracted attention, and attention is what he like.
The airplane's double-decker cargo cabin was lowered, revealing a young man standing on the lift, dressed in a pilot's uniform with a helmet in one hand. His demeanor was calm and confident, his appearance impeccable. Thomas had hired him after hearing his story through connections, and this guy was incredibly talented.
"What is it this time, boss? An escort? An expedition? An attack by another giant? A wedding?" the pilot quipped, a playful smile on his face.
Thomas stepped closer, taking a step up the ramp. His pilot gave him a quick glance as he passed, then followed him inside. "Rescue mission, Sam," Thomas replied, lifting his goggles and placing them on his forehead. Sam Wilson, the man's full name, had never once disappointed him. He was not only an exceptional pilot but also a man of great character.
Hearing the seriousness in Thomas's voice, Sam's expression shifted to one of determination. "Well then, let's roll!" he said confidently.
Thomas nodded and jerked his head toward the cockpit, signaling Sam to start the takeoff. Sam nodded back, then sprinted to the front of the plane and took his place behind the controls.
As Sam settled into the cockpit, he paused for just a second to ask, "Where to, boss?"
Thomas, already anticipating the question, replied immediately, "Afghanistan."
Sam raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. It was his job to follow orders, not question them. "We'll be there in a few hours, thanks to those augmentations your friend installed."
Goliath nodded in acknowledgment as Sam started the pre-flight checks. Sam didn't know it, but Tony Stark was the genius behind the advanced technical upgrades on this plane. Despite his gratitude for the current enhancements, Thomas had plans to sell this aircraft soon. He was already in talks to acquire a more technologically advanced model from a very sullen, one-eyed man.
As the engines roared to life, Sam guided the plane smoothly off the runway, and they were airborne within minutes. The powerful engines and state-of-the-art systems made the aircraft feel almost alive, a testament to Stark's engineering prowess.
"ETA to Afghanistan is just under three hours," Sam announced, glancing back over his shoulder. "We'll be cruising at high altitude to avoid detection."
Thomas nodded, appreciating Sam's professionalism. And he closed his eyes for a little.
***
He have a lot of time to think.
He knew very little about this place, about this world. A few superhero movies and the 2012 Avengers film, watched with his nephews, were his basic sources of information. Tony Stark had endured hardships on his own, but things were different now.
Thomas couldn't ignore a friend in need—a friend who was once just a character in a movie, a mere fantasy. But now, it was real. Everything changed from the moment he took his first breath in this chaotic world.
Honestly, it was all so surreal—his surroundings, his strength, his growth, himself. Even after so many years in this world and countless adventures, he still couldn't comprehend why he had been given all of this.
Why was he endowed with such immense power, growing stronger every day just by paying attention? In his past life, he never sought power; his dream was to be a showman. So, what was he to do with an ability that could destroy mountains and more? He felt unworthy of it all. He knew his own flaws and problems all too well.
His easily inflammable anger was one of those flaws, so he treated everything with laughter and positivity to keep from getting angry. But so many things in this world pissed him off. One of the biggest issues was the abundance of shitheads who somehow always had access to dangerous powers. This universe kept churning out these freaks, and it infuriated him.
There were times when he couldn't contain himself and inflicted almost fatal injuries on villains, even though the high technology and even "magic" of this Earth could repair such injuries.
Another thing he hated was silence.
Being too used to dealing with an audience and having developed the ability to talk for hours, he needed an outlet. His Sunday streamings were his sanctuary, a time of rest and connection. But when there was no one to answer him, he started to think. Overthink. And that led to the most bizarre and paranoid thoughts. Like right now.
And about flight.
The flight was smooth, the augmented engines purring like a contented cat.
Hours passed in tense silence, each minute bringing them closer to their destination.
"Approaching the drop zone," Sam finally announced. " Be ready, boss. "
Sam need drop him somewhere in the desert. The plane soared overhead, leaving Thomas alone to rely on his one of the unique ability. "Inner Sonar," he called it. This ability allowed him to detect life signatures within a five-kilometer radius, and if he pushed himself hard enough, he could extend that range to ten kilometers. It was a strange power, but incredibly useful in his line of work. He had saved countless lives with it.
Despite its utility, Inner Sonar had its limitations. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't scan beyond ten kilometers. If he could, he would have simply flown over Afghanistan with Sam until he located Tony. But since that wasn't possible, he had to scour the desert on his own. Tonight, he was determined to find Tony and bring him back.
His plan was straightforward:
1. Find Tony.
2. Return to the nearest base they had already established contact with.
3. Head back home.
A simple plan, but one fraught with challenges. He hoped he wouldn't have to spend days searching for Tony, though he was prepared for that scenario. In his other form, he could handle the problem of food and water supplies, but he didn't want to leave New York unsupervised for too long.
Thomas stood, his massive frame filling the cabin. He double-checked his gear, ensuring everything was in place. This was it— his stop.
Sam called from his seat, "I'm going to open the trunk now. Good luck sir, I'll be waiting for you at the base. You already have the coordinates!"
Thomas replied and the rear of the plane began to descend. He raised his voice, "At the base, tell them you came with Goliath on the Tony Stark case!"
Thomas had barely taken a step when a powerful gust of air hit him. It would be enough to make a man fall...But Thomas didn't even flinch, just picked up his glasses, bent them and put them in his pocket.
He took a confident step forward, hearing Sam's exclamation behind him: "Tony Stark?!"
Without wasting a second, Thomas sprinted and reached the edge of the open cargo bay, leaping into the air with a loud "Yagh!" battle cry.
*JUMP*
As he plummeted downward, Thomas felt gravity pulling him inexorably toward the ground. He was hurtling straight into the desert, shrouded in a faint golden aura, the result of his enhanced defenses.
Despite the tremendous speed of the fall, Thomas remained completely calm. His mouth was tightly clenched and his eyes closed, but his Inner Sonar was still working, allowing him to orient himself in space.
Thomas realized he needed to speed up his fall, so he changed his form slightly. Instead of falling like a starfish, he stretched out and assumed a streamlined rocket-like position.
And it was a maneuver that worked—the land was rapidly approaching. Thomas was confident that the sandy desert surface would cushion his landing.
Almost there.
Almost.
A little bit.
And.
He instantly raised his defenses.
*BOOM*
In the last moments before impact with the ground, he made a slight adjustment to his trajectory, spreading his arms and legs like a parachutist. This allowed him to make contact with the sand with greater ease.
The impact was thunderous, shaking the air and kicking up a column of sand and dust. But contrary to expectations, there was no destruction. The powerful golden aura around Thomas extinguished the brunt of the impact, allowing him to make a soft landing.
Seconds later, as the dust cloud began to settle, Thomas was already on his feet, shaking off the sand. His face held a serene expression, as if he had just taken a small leap. Not a scratch. Not the slightest sign that he had just suffered a dizzying fall from a great height.
He looked around. He return his sunglasses back on face.
West, East, North, South.
" So which way first... "
His scrutiny was suddenly interrupted. To the west, his sensors picked up some sort of movement.
"May it be..." Thomas thought. But to be sure, he needed to get closer and do a closer inspection.
Spotting a denser, drier patch of ground nearby, Thomas moved silently over to it, knees locked in a characteristic stance, ready to break away at any moment. The faint golden aura surrounding him became more discernible. He knew he would need a powerful leap to reach his goal, and he was now preparing for it.
He tucked his glasses back into his pocket.
Raising his head and concentrating, Thomas tensed, feeling the energy flowing to his muscles. And with a quiet but determined "Hop!" he pushed himself off the ground, rushing forward with incredible speed. He was intent on finding out who was in this remote desert area as quickly as possible.
Soared through the air at high speed, leaving the desert sands behind. The sonar flickered, signaling the target's approach. The life signature pulsed steadily, without hesitation—it was a living person, not a nameless corpse. He felt a rush of excitement as he realized it was a victory.
In the distance, on the horizon, something silvery, angular glittered. With different muzzles at its arms and a round thing in its chest. "That's him! Fuck yeah!" he shouted into the sky, his heart pounding frantically in his chest.
With a roar like an explosion, Thomas landed right next to the shiny object.
"Boom!"
Instantly, from behind the helmet came Tony's scream. Trapped in the sand, he began twitching, trying to get out of the suit. " AAAAAA, STOP DON'T SHOOT, DON'T SHOOT!"
Thomas couldn't help but laugh. "BWHAHAHA, not shooting! I'm not shooting! " he said, his voice full of mirth.
Tony froze, and then he instantly calmed down.
"No way...?! "
Thomas knelt in front of Tony, his hand gently sliding to the helmet flap. With a gentle click, like a blade across butter, the shield flew off, revealing Tony's furry, haggard face.
"YOU SON OF A-...Beautiful woman, it's you! "
"Yep, it's me, rich boy! "
*
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(A/N) Little sorry for mistakes, was making chapter in a hurry. If you have ideas, I'm listening. And again, sorry if chapter isn't good, will be better next time.