Marvel's Iron Lady

Truth be told, being woken up in the middle of a good dream would make anyone want to throw a fit.

However, when you open your eyes to a sight so captivating, wouldn't you reconsider your frustration?

The finely tailored white suit was threaded with gold silk, its collar crisply turned out to reveal just a hint of soft, milky skin.

Unfortunately, it was buttoned up just a little too tightly, obscuring that alluring valley, but even the graceful curve beneath was enough to tantalize the senses.

Black lace suspenders stretched high up her thighs, while the elegant high heels gave her already slender legs an even more striking appearance.

"Tsk, dressed this seductively today? Were you planning to tempt me to stay with you, darling?"

With that, Miss Stark grabbed Pepper's outstretched arm, pulling herself up from the bed. She wrapped her arms around Pepper's neck.

The space between them shrank to its absolute limit, and Miss Stark's soft, teasing breath made Pepper's face, along with her neck, turn a lovely shade of pink.

That intoxicating blend of perfume and the natural scent of her skin—taken in with a deep inhale—was too tempting for anyone to resist.

"It's really refreshing."

"Get real! You're always such a tease. Come on, get up. Your hair's a mess, let me fix it."

Pepper's fiery nature earned her the nickname "Pepper" after all. Despite her shyness, her assertive personality remained intact, as she firmly urged Miss Stark to get ready.

As her personal assistant, Pepper's daily routine was to manage her boss's life—if you overlooked their borderline intimate relationship.

On the other hand, as a graduate of an elite business management program, Pepper would also occasionally step in as Miss Stark's administrative assistant, helping with work-related matters.

Thanks to Pepper's help, Miss Stark quickly fixed her messy hair and applied light makeup. Soon, she was completely transformed—dressed in a perfectly tailored white suit—and was now standing at the door of her Malibu villa.

Her bodyguard, Happy Hogan, was already waiting there. A silver Audi R8 and a black Lincoln limousine were parked on the side of the road, indicating that Happy had been busy all morning, loading Miss Stark's luggage into the car.

"Are you really not coming with me? You know, there's plenty of room on the plane, and I'd really love for you to join me."

"You should be on your way, boss. In fact, you should've left half an hour ago."

As a parting gesture, Miss Stark held onto Pepper's arm, gazing at her with a pitiful look. But in return, Pepper's firm hands pushed her gently toward the door.

"So... you'll at least give me a farewell kiss, right?" Miss Stark half-joked, leaning in to whisper into Pepper's ear.

"You're not a child anymore, Miss Stark," Pepper responded, her tone firm, though a blush crept onto her cheeks. Despite herself, she leaned forward and obediently kissed Miss Stark on the cheek.

Miss Stark grinned, clearly not satisfied. Before Pepper could react, she swiftly closed the gap and planted a quick but firm kiss on Pepper's lips.

Pepper stood frozen for a moment, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide with surprise, while Miss Stark grinned mischievously.

"Alright then! Now I feel invincible! I won't come back until I've made a few billion dollars!" Miss Stark declared with a wink, leaving Pepper still slightly stunned as she walked out the door.

...

A few minutes later, the two cars slowly drove away from the cliffs where the Malibu villa was perched.

When the convoy reached the airport, Colonel Rhodes was already standing on the staircase of Miss Stark's private jet, watching the approaching cars. His expression was as dark as the bottom of a pot, as if he'd been holding back his frustration for a long time.

"We were supposed to take off half an hour ago."

"There was traffic on the way."

Miss Stark stuck out her tongue, giving a weak excuse, knowing full well she had overslept and delayed the flight.

In any case, she didn't believe the airport would cancel her flight just because she was late. After all, her flight plan had been signed off by the Department of Defense.

Miss Stark and Colonel Rhodes boarded the plane together, but Happy only loaded the luggage before leaving.

Due to the secrecy surrounding her trip and the importance of her cargo—a revolutionary new weapons technology—Miss Stark's movements were highly protected. The military didn't allow her to bring any other personnel to Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan.

Aside from Colonel Rhodes, who was tasked with both her safety and the supervision of the operation, Miss Stark's private jet had no crew members.

Originally, the military had assigned her two pilots, but Miss Stark refused. She claimed that the technology in her jet was beyond the capabilities of ordinary pilots—JARVIS would handle takeoff and landing.

Her jet had long been modified into an unmanned aircraft, directly controlled by JARVIS. Miss Stark trusted her AI creation far more than any human pilot, believing that JARVIS could handle much more.

With the help of Stark Industries' satellite array, JARVIS perfectly executed the flight plan. Meanwhile, Colonel Rhodes, filled with curiosity about the plane's technology, wandered around the cabin, touching and inspecting everything like a wide-eyed child.

Miss Stark, however, was unfazed. She simply dragged Rhodes to drink with her. They chatted and drank until the jet crossed the Atlantic Ocean, landing at the military airport in Afghanistan.

Her private jet had undergone extreme modernization, reaching supersonic speeds that regular planes couldn't achieve without significant technological enhancements—otherwise, they'd risk disintegrating mid-flight.

Unlike the Quinjet, which Miss Stark had personally redesigned, larger aircraft like her private jet required far more stringent engineering in terms of structure, metals, and engines.

Luckily, with the Extremis Virus technology no longer limited to the human body, synthesizing metals at the nanoscale had become possible.

When the jet finally arrived at Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan, one of the ten largest overseas U.S. military bases in the world, the sky was already bright.

The plane had chased the sun, crossing the terminator line—while the U.S. was shrouded in darkness, Afghanistan basked in daylight.

"Welcome to Afghanistan, Miss Stark, Colonel Rhodes—welcome to Afghanistan."

To greet Miss Stark and Colonel Rhodes was Brigadier General Marcus Morton, an officer of the U.S. Army.

Typically, a general wouldn't personally welcome a weapons dealer or a visiting Department of Defense officer, but this time was different.

Miss Stark had brought with her groundbreaking weapons technology from Stark Industries—something with potentially epoch-making importance, at least according to the promotional materials.

And Colonel Rhodes, a member of the Department of Defense's Weapons Research Division, held far more authority than the average officer of his rank. More importantly, he served as the liaison between Stark Industries and the military.

Given the significance of their visit, it was appropriate that they be welcomed by a general.

As such, General Marcus had been assigned to Bagram to represent the military in this crucial transaction.

"Miss Stark, Colonel Rhodes—welcome to Afghanistan."

The general was already well-informed about the details of the deal. In truth, it was a large-scale demonstration of a new weapon, facilitated by Miss Stark's close relationship with the U.S. military.

Since she had taken over Stark Industries, installing her own loyalists in key management positions, there had been internal pushback from those loyal to the old regime.

Naturally, as the boss, she wasn't particularly concerned with employees' complaints—until the board of directors brought it up at a formal meeting.

Perhaps the executives she'd purged had connections with certain board members, which is why, after being ousted, those individuals stirred up trouble, accusing her of acting in her own interest at the expense of hard-working employees.

Words like "neglecting the welfare of the loyal workers" were thrown around frequently during that meeting, suggesting that Miss Stark's recent actions were damaging the company's morale.

Not everyone in the meeting was against her, though. A few individuals, sensing opportunity, played the role of peacemakers, suggesting that she focus on new weapons projects to bolster Stark Industries' reputation.

The motivations behind their "neutrality" were obvious—no matter what the final product was, they stood to benefit financially from its sale, so of course, they were willing to speak up in favor of a new project.

They were hedging their bets—playing both sides to ensure they reaped the rewards.

Sitting in the chairman's seat, Miss Stark coldly watched the well-dressed wolves flash their fangs at her during the board meeting.

She didn't care what backroom deals they had made before the meeting, nor did she care about their public posturing.

To her, Stark Industries had always been more of a symbolic entity than a practical one.

These people, no matter how much they feigned concern, ultimately only wanted to line their own pockets.

Sure, she could let them have a piece of the pie—she had the resources to be generous. But those scorching hot profits? Let's see if they can handle it.

She had a comprehensive plan in place, and the core of that plan was the Jericho Missile, a weapon that utilized cutting-edge guidance systems and mixed-explosive technology.

The board didn't fully grasp the significance of the Jericho Missile. They saw it as just another missile development project.

But for Miss Stark, this missile represented the final straw that would break the board's back. It wasn't just about silencing internal opposition—it was about securing her future.

She intended for the Jericho Missile to serve as a bargaining chip when she eventually dismantled the weapons division and halted all arms deals.

Especially since she knew, months ahead of everyone else, that the International Cluster Munitions Convention would soon be signed.

---

After she realized that the International Cluster Munitions Convention would be signed in a few months, it became clear to Miss Stark that she needed to use this last major weapons transaction as a tool to push her control over the board.

With her future plans in mind, she was determined to utilize the Jericho Missile as a bargaining chip, positioning herself for the moment when she could officially step away from weapons development and move towards more peaceful, profitable industries.

Due to the time difference, the missile test was scheduled for the following morning, and General Marcus invited Miss Stark and Colonel Rhodes to dine with him for dinner. After dinner, he gave them a brief tour of Bagram Air Base.

Since the base was primarily designed for military use, there were only barracks and tents for accommodations, which was acceptable to Colonel Rhodes, given his military background. However, for someone like Miss Stark, who had lived in luxury her entire life, the prospect of staying in such conditions was out of the question.

Luckily, Miss Stark's private jet was equipped with a fully furnished, luxurious bedroom, and Bagram Air Base had more than enough space to accommodate her jet.

The next morning, as the sunlight filtered through the small cabin windows, it fell on the face of Miss Stark, who was still wrapped in the bed's soft sheets, gently waking her from her slumber. She picked up her phone, glanced at the time—6:30 a.m.—and promptly closed her eyes, lying back down, as her mind drifted through a flurry of thoughts.

"Such a hassle," she sighed to herself.

Between the endless issues regarding Stark Industries' business operations and dealing with the U.S. Department of Defense, everything had become such a nuisance. Now, she had to follow the military to a war zone like Afghanistan and endure these unnecessary hardships.

She briefly questioned herself, wondering why she had to put in so much effort. Wouldn't it be better to just enjoy life?

"No, that's not it... it's not just for me," she thought. "Well, it is for me, but it's also for others."

Deep down, Miss Stark understood her motivations clearly. She had to seize this opportunity, use the influence of her Afghanistan trip, and solidify her control over Stark Industries.

This wasn't just about personal gain—it was about laying the foundation for future actions. She needed to do this.

Additionally, there was someone she wanted to save, although she didn't know exactly where that person was at the moment.

Testing large-scale weapons, particularly weapons of mass destruction, required thorough preparations. Typically, such tests were conducted in vast, open areas that were flat and offered good visibility, as well as favorable weather conditions.

To ensure the safety of the missile test site, while Miss Stark was asleep, the U.S. military had launched a new round of operations to clear out surrounding insurgents and secure the perimeter of the test area.

Three Jericho Missiles had already been transported to the designated test site, and by 10:00 a.m. the next day, Colonel Rhodes arrived at Miss Stark's jet, accompanied by two soldiers from Bagram Air Base.

He instructed the soldiers to stay outside and climbed the stairs into the jet himself, walking through the entrance and into the cabin.

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