While S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra quietly maneuvered to push each other into increasingly dangerous situations, Evenson remained blissfully unaware of the chaos unfolding behind the scenes.
He had problems of his own.
Namely...
"Keep your eyes forward," the elderly instructor said sternly. "But don’t forget to check both sides of the intersection."
"Got it."
"Stay focused. Anticipate what’s about to happen. Don’t wait until you’re forced to react."
"I’m on it."
The instructor nodded sharply.
"Now."
Evenson took a steady breath.
Clutch.
First gear.
Gentle throttle.
Release the clutch.
Signal.
Turn the wheel.
The training car rolled smoothly through the intersection.
That was right.
Evenson Richter was learning to drive.
He’d been taking lessons for several days.
Owning a car remained well beyond his current finances, but there was no reason he couldn’t earn a driver’s license first.
Besides, in America an adult without a driver’s license attracted almost as many strange looks as someone without an ID.
In many situations, a license was your ID.
He’d wanted one for quite a while.
Money had simply been the problem.
Fortunately...
Tony Stark had accidentally become his financial advisor.
Over the past several weeks, Stark Industries’ stock chart had looked like it was trying to imitate a cardiac monitor.
Tony won the Apogee Award.
The military signed a massive weapons contract.
The stock soared.
Tony was kidnapped in Afghanistan.
The stock crashed.
Tony returned alive.
The stock rebounded.
Tony publicly announced Stark Industries was leaving the weapons business.
The market nearly imploded.
More than a few investors had watched their life savings disappear while discovering firsthand that the stock market was less a road to riches than a spectacularly expensive lesson in optimism.
Ryan Mercer’s memories, however, came with one enormous advantage.
He already knew how the story played out.
By buying and selling at exactly the right moments, Evenson had quietly earned himself a respectable profit.
Not enough to call himself wealthy.
Enough to stop worrying about every dollar.
And enough to finally afford driving lessons.
"You learn quickly, Mr. Richter."
The compliment came from Bruce Shett, the driving school’s senior instructor.
After Evenson parked the training vehicle, Bruce gave him an approving smile.
"So I can graduate early?"
Evenson unbuckled his seat belt hopefully.
Bruce laughed.
"I’m afraid not."
"No matter how well you drive, the law still requires a minimum number of training hours before you’re eligible to take the licensing exam."
In other words...
Whether he needed the practice or not was completely irrelevant.
The clock had to run.
Evenson silently cursed bureaucracy.
Still, it wasn’t as though he could afford a car today anyway.
There was no point getting worked up over it.
He had already mastered the fundamentals.
From now on, a short practice session every day would be enough to keep his skills sharp.
"Let’s call it a day."
He offered Bruce a grateful smile.
"Thanks for everything."
"My pleasure, Mr. Richter."
After riding the bus back home, Evenson barely made it through the front door before Sarah greeted him.
He raised a hand.
"Don’t say it."
"I already know."
"Business was terrible again."
Sarah smiled helplessly.
"We made thirty dollars today."
She paused.
"Actually..."
"...that’s our highest daily revenue this month."
Evenson stared at her.
"...I’m not sure whether that’s encouraging or deeply depressing."
Opening a shop selling fake protective charms in New York had seemed like a clever idea at the time.
Reality had been less supportive.
He sighed.
"Whatever."
"The shop isn’t paying the bills anyway."
Outside, the evening sky had already begun to darken.
"Go ahead and lock up."
"If nobody came during the day, they definitely aren’t coming now."
Richter’s Oddities had developed a reputation on the street.
It opened whenever the owner felt like it.
It closed earlier than every neighboring business.
Customers had long since stopped trying to predict either.
Walking behind the counter, Evenson switched on the television just as a daytime news broadcast began replaying.
A Black Air Force colonel stood behind a podium addressing a crowd of reporters.
According to the official statement, an F-22 Raptor had suffered a catastrophic mechanical failure during a routine training exercise the previous day.
The pilot had ejected safely.
No casualties had been reported.
Evenson’s eyes narrowed.
After a moment, realization dawned.
"So..."
"Iron Man is officially online."
Tony Stark’s kidnapping in Afghanistan had changed him completely.
Being nearly killed by one of his own Jericho missiles had shattered the philosophy he’d built his life around.
For years, he’d believed overwhelming firepower created peace.
Now he understood that weapons often created the very wars they claimed to prevent.
Most people seeking redemption went to church.
The extremely wealthy established charitable foundations.
Tony Stark...
...built a flying suit of powered armor.
After learning from Christine Everhart that the terrorists who’d kidnapped him had acquired Jericho missiles, Tony had responded in the most Tony Stark way imaginable.
He flew back to Afghanistan.
Beat the terrorists into submission.
Destroyed every missile before they could be used.
Then left behind a mushroom cloud and flew home.
Unfortunately...
He made one critical mistake.
The United States took unidentified aircraft entering its airspace very seriously.
America’s early warning radar network existed for exactly this sort of situation.
When an unidentified object crossed into domestic airspace at impossible speeds, the military checked every possible source.
It wasn’t one of theirs.
It didn’t belong to the CIA.
It didn’t belong to S.H.I.E.L.D.
Repeated radio calls received no response.
So the Air Force did exactly what protocol demanded.
They scrambled two F-22 Raptors to intercept the unknown aircraft.
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