Alternate Iron #300: The Legion of Iron Men

by Matthew Malek

Chapter Ten: Epilogue

4:10 AM

One hour later, those who had survived the devastation of Futura were all safe and sound. With remarkable focus and precision, Iron Man had led the other six in the rescue. H.O.M.E.R. appreciated the unexpected opportunity to gain experience in his new mobile body; he was quickly learning to master its many functions. Happy was relieved to have Tony take charge of the situation. He could make a difference by being pure muscle, but he didn't have to worry about making decisions that could cost others their lives. The others were just glad that the danger had passed, and looked forward to collapsing into their beds soon. It had been a long night.

When the work in Futura was complete, they bid a hasty farewell to the commander of the National Guard and regrouped back where they had left Ultimo. "Good, swift work, people." Iron Man congratulated them. "That's what I like to see. Nobody dies when the Iron Legion is around. We're already functioning reasonably well as a team, but I see room for much practice and improvement. Never mind that now, though. There's plenty of time to go over it tomorrow."

"For now, let's just get this thing out of here. There's a large SE warehouse south of the main complex where it can be stored until Mr. Stark can spare some time to look Ultimo over. I don't want to turn it back on and let it walk there. Besides being slow and unwieldy, I'd rather not scare people any further. I doubt the folks would believe this beast is walking around without being a threat, and with good reason, too! So, Bethany, if you and H.O.M.E.R. could grab the arms... good. Then Mike, why don't you and Happy take the legs. Carl, you should just ride on top; once we get Ultimo horizontal. The magnets in the suit should keep you from falling off. I'll take the head; and guide us. Ready? Great, let's go."

The Iron Legion took their respective positions, and together they carried Ultimo's body away into the night.

Meanwhile, a National Guardsman looked after several children who had been orphaned by the Futura disaster. He sorted through paperwork, locating the next of kin. Many of the children were old enough to identify themselves, but in some cases fingerprint records needed to be searched. The night was a long one, and the task was terrible. He hated calling up aunts, uncles, and grandparents; waking them up to tell them the horrible news.

The next child was a cute-looking boy. "Hi there, son!" The Guardsman tried to be pleasant; he could only imagine the horror most of these kids had endured tonight. For the umpteenth time, he thanked his lucky stars that his parents were safe and alive and far away from Futura. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Tim-o-thy." The boy pronounced each syllable carefully.

"And how old are you, Timothy?"

"I'm three and a half years old."

"Really? Wow, that's old! You're a big boy, Timothy! Can you tell me your last name?"

"Okay, it's Selden. Timothy Selden. My Mommy is Jenny Selden and my Daddy is Harry Selden."

The National Guardsman had to stop himself from cringing. He didn't know how to tell this child that he wasn't ever going to see either parent again. He had been doing this for hours, with many different children, and he always took the easy way out: he decided not to say anything.

"My Daddy got hurt when our building fell down. Will he be okay?"

"Um, I don't know. We'll try to find your daddy for you, though. I promise. We'll bring him to the hospital if he's hurt."

"Okay. I hope he's okay." Timothy was clearly trying hard not to cry.

The National Guardsman looked through the paperwork, finding Timothy's records. Nothing was listed in the birth certificate pile, so he checked the adoption papers. There he located the orphanage that had allowed the Seldens to adopt Timothy. There was a phone number for the orphanage, so he reached for the phone.

"Hello? Emma Goldman Memorial Orphanage." A sleepy voice answered the phone.

"Sorry to disturb you, but you're listed as the next of kin for a child who was in your care three years ago. There's been a disaster, and both parents have been killed."

"Okay, okay. Hold on. Let me check. I'll see what I can find out for you. Hold on." The National Guardsman was put on hold for several minutes. Eventually the graveyard shift at the orphanage picked up the phone again. "Okay, I'm in the computer records now. Can you give me the last name of the boy who has been re-orphaned?"

"It's Selden. Timothy Selden."

"Selden, huh? Selden, Selden... There, I've got it." An astonished whistle came over the phone line. "Apparently, the kid's real parents aren't dead. He was placed into our care by none other than Tony Stark! Wow..."

Several hundred miles away, in a Los Angeles loft, Philip Grant (a.k.a. the Raven) and Marcy Pearson were focused on a computer display. For hours, the Raven had been skirting his way around the intrusion countermeasure electronics (or I.C.E.) that protected the SE computer network. Even for a cracker of his extensive experience, this was a difficult system to break into. It had been designed by Abe Zimmer to be virtually impregnable. At the highest security levels, it was.

"Damn," muttered the Raven. "I can't get root access. It's too clever for me to get all the way in."

"Is it clever enough to keep you all the way out?" asked Marcy skeptically.

"Nah, I'm in the system already. I've got access to most of the SE computer files, just not the high security stuff."

Marcy wondered what sort of files got classified as high security. She was being paid a lot of money by her mysterious employer to find dirt on SE. For whatever reason, her employer wanted to ruin SE's public relations, so they hired a talented PR person to do the job.

"There's a lot of dirt here, you know," the Raven remarked. "Stark's done a good job of keeping his own name clear; anything directly owned by Stark Enterprises is squeaky clean. He's got this other multi-national under him, though, called Stane. And Stane International has its fingers in all sorts of grubby little pies!"

This was just what Marcy had been waiting to hear. "Excellent. What sorts of pies?"

"Well, you've got basic run-of-the-mill stuff, like bribing politicians. Then there's some blatant disregard for environmental laws, illegal use of force against trade unions, several mysterious deaths at Stane plants... and the best is this: apparently, one of the Stane companies has been financing criminal activities in return for a share of the profits!"

This was even juicier than Marcy had expected. "Let's grab copies of those files and get out before anyone notices we've been here." Her employers had made it clear that her bonus was contingent on them finding dirt on Stark and getting away undetected.

"Copied...... and logged out. Perfect getaway; no trace that we were here." The Raven was annoyed that he hadn't been able to crack the computer system entirely. Although they'd accomplished their job, he was interested in cracking more for the challenge. The money was secondary. Noting the paths he'd used to gain access, he vowed to test his wits against Stark's again sometime soon.

"Fantastic! Now we just need to e-mail these files to several media sources, and our job here is done."

The Raven delivered a few swift keystrokes to his computer. "Consider it done," he said. "My, oh my." He smiled. "The fit is really going to hit the shan now! Whoever hired you to do this, they must really have it in for Tony Stark."