"Prepare to intercept, Whiplash!" someone beside Rhode commanded.
"Good, because we've spotted an unidentified flying object and are ready to shoot it down," Rhode replied firmly.
"I should get off this highway now. Talk later," Tony Stark glanced over his shoulder at the two jet fighters tailing him. He veered left, taking evasive maneuvers, signaling the start of his game with the F-22 Raptors.
"Ballroom, this is Whiplash One. I've got the target locked," reported one of the F-22 pilots following close behind Tony's suit.
Rhode, leaning into his microphone, asked sternly, "Whiplash One, what's the target? Have you tried contacting it?"
The pilot hesitated. "Not sure, sir. The target isn't responding."
Before Rhode could reply, an officer next to him ordered, "Engage it."
At that moment, Tony pushed his suit into supersonic speed. The sonic boom that erupted was clear to the F-22 pilot, who quickly updated, "Target is now supersonic! I've got it locked!" With a press of the controls, a missile ignited from the jet's belly, streaking toward Tony's suit.
J.A.R.V.I.S. immediately warned, "Incoming missile, sir." Tony deployed flares, which successfully diverted the missile into a fiery explosion. However, the shockwave disrupted his flight pattern. He quickly regained control and accelerated to escape his pursuers.
The two Raptors evaded the blast radius and continued their pursuit. They switched tactics, firing their machine guns. A few rounds struck Tony's armor but caused only superficial damage. Realizing the dogfight wouldn't end this way, Tony pulled a risky maneuver: he reversed course, spreading his arms to position himself behind the jets.
The Raptors, incapable of such agile maneuvers, broke formation to avoid collision. "Target has disappeared from radar, sir!" reported one of the pilots. Simultaneously, the satellite operator chimed in, "Lost visual on the target."
While the team speculated about the situation, Rhode noticed Tony calling him. Taking a step away from the other officers, Rhode answered, "Hey, Tony, it's me!"
"Who?" Tony teased, laughing.
"Don't play dumb—it's me," Rhode said, exasperated.
"Alright, fine. You've got me. It's me, Rhode."
Rhode's tone turned serious. "This isn't a game, Tony. You can't fly a civilian prototype into a military operation zone. Do you understand?"
Tony sighed. "It's not a prototype—it's me. This isn't equipment, Rhode. It's a suit, and I'm in it."
Rhode's jaw dropped as he stared at the screen showing the humanoid figure. The officer next to him noticed Rhode's reaction and asked, "What's going on?"
Unable to answer, Rhode stood frozen. Meanwhile, one of the F-22 pilots spotted Tony clinging to the underside of the other jet. "It's under you! Looks like a person! Flip over!" the pilot shouted.
Rhode's disbelief deepened as he watched Tony wave at the camera, phone in hand.
The jet flipped violently, flinging Tony off. He collided with the second jet, severing its wing. The damaged Raptor burst into flames.
The control room fell silent as everyone focused on the ejecting pilot. The officer broke the tension. "Whiplash Two, do you have visual on the parachute?"
The pilot scanned the area and reported, "Negative, no parachute spotted!"
The downed pilot's voice crackled over the comms. "My parachute is jammed!" Despite his attempts to pull the lever, the mechanism failed. Panic set in, and the control room watched helplessly.
Tony spotted the malfunctioning parachute. Without hesitation, he rocketed toward the pilot. "Sir, you're locked on again," J.A.R.V.I.S. warned. Ignoring the alert, Tony smashed the stuck mechanism with a single punch, deploying the parachute. Relieved, Tony pulled away just as the second Raptor locked on to him.
"Parachute deployed!" the rescued pilot confirmed, prompting cheers in the control room. Rhode, visibly relieved, stepped aside to take Tony's call.
"Hey, Tony, you there?"
"Yeah, still here," Tony replied, laughing.
Rhode shook his head in disbelief. "You're insane. You owe me a plane, you know that?"
Tony chuckled. "Technically, it hit me, not the other way around."
"Great. Now, how am I supposed to explain this to the media?"
"Same as always—call it a training accident," Tony said casually.
The next day, Qin Li watched Rhode's press conference on TV. Rhode stood at the podium, announcing the F-22 Raptor crash during a "training exercise." Qin Li smirked, nudging Frank Castle, who was teaching his son nearby. "Wanna bet? I'd say Tony was behind that crash."
Frank raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "What's the wager?"
Qin Li grinned, sensing victory. "If I lose, name anything. If you lose, you tell me who caught your eye from the group Tony introduced to you."
Frank's face reddened. Narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Qin Li, he muttered, "Fine. If I lose, I'll tell you. But if you lose, hand over some of that teleportation serum."
4o