Marvel's Iron Lady

"Devil's Breath has been stolen, and yet you're all sitting here like nothing happened?"

Nick Fury's voice was laced with anger as he slammed the cold, damning report onto his desk. The booming sound echoed in his office as he knocked his knuckles against the table for emphasis. His one remaining eye glared at the people standing before him—there was no mistaking his fury.

"Captain Rogers, I put you in charge of this operation, not so you could let a bioweapon fall into the hands of terrorists!"

Fury, his face darker than usual, directed his frustration at Steve Rogers. He couldn't understand how, with Rogers involved in the mission, the enemy had still managed to succeed. But it wasn't just Rogers who had participated in the operation—there was someone else.

And that someone was lounging on the sofa, a smirk playing on her lips.

"And you, Stark—what are you smiling at?!"

"I didn't put you in charge of the task force to cause me more problems!" Fury's temper flared even more as he saw Miss Stark's relaxed demeanor. She, of all people, should have understood the gravity of the situation.

Everyone present knew just how dangerous Devil's Breath was, and yet despite the failure, Miss Stark seemed utterly unconcerned.

The tension in Fury's office at the Triskelion was palpable. His single eye swept over the room, staring down Rogers, Romanoff, Rumlow, and Stark, demanding answers. His deep breath was the only thing that prevented him from exploding further.

Now was not the time for rage. The bioweapon had fallen into enemy hands, and what mattered most was how to get it back—and how to stop the terrorists from using it.

"So, someone tell me how we're going to fix this," Fury demanded, forcing himself to remain calm as his hands gripped the edges of his desk. He'd seen more than his share of catastrophes, but this situation was driving him mad.

None of the people standing before him—Rogers, Rumlow, or Natasha Romanoff—said a word. They wisely kept silent.

The only response came from Miss Stark, who let out a light chuckle.

"It's really not a big deal—"

"What did you say?!" Fury roared.

Perhaps only she would have the nerve to act so nonchalant in the face of Fury's wrath. She lay on the sofa, as if completely tuning out his tirade, tapping away at her tablet like this was all some kind of game.

The armored transport carrying the Gaia dispersal device and the GR-27 Devil's Breath serum had been hijacked en route to Stark Tower. All that remained was a shattered security safe and a truck full of dead guards.

Watching his subordinates—especially Miss Stark, whose face practically screamed "I don't care"—Fury felt a strange realization creep over him. Could it be possible that there was something more to this than he knew? How had this all gone down right under his agents' noses?

"You've been keeping something from me, haven't you?" Fury asked, his tone more suspicious than accusatory. His mind was racing. It didn't seem plausible that his elite agents—seasoned veterans, all—could have been so easily outmaneuvered. And especially not right under Stark's nose.

There had to be more to the story.

At this, Miss Stark's grin widened, and she finally let out a laugh. Even Romanoff and Rogers exchanged glances, their faces betraying a shared amusement. Rumlow, though struggling to keep a straight face, shook his head in exasperation.

Before they had arrived at Fury's office, Miss Stark had already planned to toy with him. This was all part of her calculated scheme—to see that bewildered expression on his face.

Once she had her fun, Miss Stark stood up from the sofa, setting her tablet down.

"In fact, everyone here is in on it. Everyone, that is, except you." She strolled over to Fury's desk, standing face-to-face with him.

Then, she explained everything. She told Fury the whole story about the GR-27 project—that Devil's Breath had already been completed, but as a medical cure rather than a bioweapon. She explained the battle at Grand Central Station, the elaborate plan to trap Martin Li and his forces, and everything else that had happened.

As Fury listened, his expression darkened, going from disbelief to a deep frown, before finally sighing in resignation. He hadn't expected that his advisor—a consultant he had brought into S.H.I.E.L.D.—would have such a mischievous streak.

"I really don't appreciate being left out of the loop. Don't let this happen again," Fury warned, though his tone was less aggressive now. He wasn't fond of being kept in the dark by his own people.

Miss Stark shrugged in response, clearly unbothered by the threat.

Meanwhile, over at Martin Li's charity shelter, things had fallen into chaos. Since his arrest by S.H.I.E.L.D., the place had been in complete disarray. No one could believe that the kind and charitable Mister Li was actually a dangerous terrorist.

But what could they do? The truth had already been revealed.

Aunt May had stepped up to take charge of the shelter in his absence, working tirelessly to keep it running.

"Are you sure you can handle all this on your own, Aunt May?" Peter Parker asked, concerned for his overworked aunt.

"I'll manage, Peter. These people need help," May said, smiling gently as she patted Peter's shoulder. "I just need to give up a few hours of sleep. Besides, your uncle is helping me."

Ever since Martin Li's arrest, Aunt May had been working non-stop for nearly 12 hours, and Peter had never seen her push herself so hard. The sight filled him with a deep sense of guilt.

Before Peter could say anything more, his phone buzzed with a message.

"Spider-Man, the transport carrying Devil's Breath and the Gaia dispersal device was hijacked!"

The message was from Yuriko Watanabe at the NYPD, and Peter's heart raced as he read it.

Damn it, what had happened while he was taking a break? How could things have gone so wrong?!

Taking a few deep breaths, Peter tried to calm himself down. He quickly apologized to Aunt May before suiting up and swinging off toward the location Yuri had sent.

The GR-27 serum might not be dangerous anymore, but Peter knew he had to investigate and figure out who had stolen the transport.

When Peter arrived at the scene, the intersection was in complete disarray. The NYPD had cordoned off the area, but they weren't going to stop Spider-Man.

Looking at the armored transport, Peter noticed that the back doors had been ripped apart—not from an explosion, but more like they had been forcibly torn open by something.

Before Peter could analyze the situation further, something else caught his attention.

A police helicopter hovered overhead, and through the window, Peter saw Yuri waving at him.

"Riker's Island Prison has been attacked! We need your help!"

There was no time to think. Peter immediately shot a web and swung himself onto the helicopter.

"What happened, Yuri?"

"Someone staged a massive breakout. The entire prison is in chaos."

As the helicopter flew toward Riker's Island, Peter's sharp eyes scanned the scene below. What he saw was horrifying—prisoners in orange jumpsuits flooding out into the open, many of them armed with weapons looted from the armory.

"They've got automatic weapons, and they're firing on the guards," Peter muttered in disbelief.

Unable to wait any longer, Peter jumped from the helicopter, swinging down toward the prison. He had to stop this madness before more lives were lost.

About half an hour later, back at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Miss Stark received a new update. She was relaxing in one of the public lounge areas, enjoying a well-earned break.

"Miss Stark, the monitoring device you placed in Peter Parker's suit shows his vital signs are dangerously low," J.A.R.V.I.S. reported.

"What? J.A.R.V.I.S., pull up the satellite feed—let me see what's going on!"

She quickly accessed her tablet, connecting to the satellite feed. What she saw made her eyes widen in shock.

From an aerial view, she could see Peter—wounded and lying on the ground, his Spider-Man suit tattered. Surrounding him were a group of familiar villains, all closing in for the kill.

Electro—Maxwell Dillon.

Rhino—Aleksei Sytsevich.

Scorpion—Mac Gargan.

Shocker—Herman Schultz.

"Damn it! How did he end up fighting all of them?!" Stark cursed under her breath, her usual calm demeanor slipping for a moment.

Peter's vital signs were dropping, and those supervillains weren't letting up—they were pummeling him with everything they had, unleashing their fury on the young hero.

There was no way she could stand by and do nothing.

"If this keeps up, he'll die. J.A.R.V.I.S., prepare to launch 17-A, and disable all other modes."

"Of course, Miss Stark. Launch protocol for Model 17-A is ready. Initiating countdown: 3, 2, 1—"

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