Chapter 216: Chapter 216: Secrets and Snakes

June 21, 2009 – Stark Residence, Malibu

The California sun beat down on the sleek concrete of Tony’s terrace, the Pacific Ocean glittering endlessly beyond the cliff’s edge.

A deafening whoosh split the air, followed by the descending whine of repulsors powering down.

Tony Stark touched down gently on the newly built landing platform on his manor terrace. Attached to the back of the Mark III was a custom-fabricated, high-tensile safety harness. Essentially, a high-tech baby carrier.

“And… touchdown!” Tony announced, the faceplate flipping up to reveal his grinning face. “Air Stark has arrived at the gate. Thank you for flying with us today. Please remember to collect all personal belongings and tip your pilot.”

He reached behind him and unlatched the harness. Elena hopped down onto the platform, her hair a windblown catastrophe, her expression slightly dazed.

“So?” Tony knelt before her, beaming with the enthusiasm of a kid showing off a new toy. “How was it? Faster than a rollercoaster, right? We hit Mach 1 for about three seconds there.”

Elena smoothed her dress, regaining her composure with the dignity of a miniature queen. “It was very… loud, Uncle Tony. And shaky.”

“That’s the thrill!” Tony laughed. “What about you, Tris? You want a turn?”

Tristan, clutching Eileen’s leg, shook his head vigorously. The suit was undeniably cool but if his adventure-loving sister hadn’t enjoyed it, then there was absolutely no chance he was climbing into that metal contraption.

“Suit yourself,” Tony shrugged, standing as the armor began to disassemble around him, gantry arms emerging from hidden panels to receive each piece with mechanical precision.

Arthur, sitting in a lounge chair with a glass of iced tea, hid a smile behind the rim. He caught the whisper Elena directed at her brother.

“Daddy’s broom is way smoother,” she murmured. “And Daddy can hold us. The metal backpack is hard and cold.”

Arthur smiled at the interaction. It was difficult to impress children who had grown up with levitation charms, broomstick rides above the clouds, and their father carrying them through the sky in his own arms—all infinitely more comfortable modes of flight.

To them, Iron Man was essentially a noisy, vibrating taxi service with an excellent paint job.

Tony, blissfully oblivious to his subpar performance review, walked over to the group, wiping grease from his hands.

“You know,” Tony said, looking at Elena with a thoughtful expression. “You handled the G-force pretty well for someone your size. Better than some Air Force pilots I’ve met, actually. Maybe in a few years, I could build you your own suit. Something smaller. Pink, maybe? Purple? We could call it the Iron Princess.”

Elena’s eyes went wide. “My own suit? Like Iron Man?”

Even if flying with Uncle Tony’s suit wasn’t as pleasant as flying with her dad, having her own suit meant she could go flying whenever she wanted. No asking permission. No waiting. The possibilities were endless.

Arthur had no real objections to the idea. He could have Winky keep a watchful eye on her, and nothing would happen that couldn’t be handled. But before he could voice his thoughts, he felt the ambient temperature drop several degrees.

Eileen was staring at Tony with a smile.

Arthur recognized that smile. He had last seen it when Tony had let Elena play around with one of his newly invented Stark missiles—”completely inert,” Tony had promised, “mostly.” What followed was something that still gave Tony nightmares.

Tony’s smile faltered. “Or… not. Not a suit. No suit. Terrible idea. Forget I mentioned it. I didn’t mention it. What suit? There’s no suit.”

“I thought so,” Eileen said, her voice sweet as poisoned honey.

Elena’s face fell, but she was quickly distracted by Pepper offering cookies from the kitchen.

Tony sidled up to Arthur, lowering his voice. “Your wife is terrifying.”

Arthur shook his head, the picture of innocence. “Terrifying? What are you talking about? Eileen’s the gentlest person in any room. Ask anyone.”

Tony blinked. “Have you seriously never made her angry? Not one fight in all your years of marriage?”

“Nope.”

“Liar.” Tony jabbed a finger at him. “Couples fight. It’s a fundamental law of nature. Right up there with gravity and entropy.”

Arthur shrugged. “Not us. My married life has been perfect.”

Tony’s scowl deepened. “Show-off.”

Arthur laughed softly, watching Eileen help Tristan select a cookie. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never seen Eileen genuinely angry at anyone else either. She’s simply too kind-hearted. It takes something truly exceptional to make her lose her temper.”

He paused, turning to give Tony a teasing look. “Only you, Tony Stark, seem to manage it with any consistency. You’re… special.”

“Oh, I feel so special,” Tony muttered. “Should I be honored or concerned?”

“Both, probably.”

Tony grunted, then brightened as a new thought struck him. “Anyway, what about you, Hayes? I could build one for you. Custom job. We could be a team—Iron Man and… I don’t know, Iron Banker? Iron Investor? We’d need to work on the name.”

“Pass,” Arthur said without hesitation.

Tony’s face fell. “Why? Scared of your wife?”

“No.” Arthur reached for his tea, taking a measured sip. “The suit simply isn’t my style.”

“Not your style.” Tony looked personally wounded. “You could fly. You could shoot lasers. From your hands. Do you understand how cool that is?”

“It’s too bulky,” Arthur replied mildly, setting down his cup. “Clunky. And it has significant limitations.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Limitations? It’s the most advanced piece of technology on the planet. You will not find anything better than this suit anywhere on Earth. I guarantee it.”

Arthur kept his expression carefully neutral.

Better than this suit?

The Kree Starforce suits he owned as well as the new suit he had reverse-engineered from it and improved upon were light-years ahead of Tony’s current tech – nanotech fabrics, energy shielding, personal life support that fit under a jacket. Compared to that, the Mark III was a steam engine.

“The suit is remarkable,” Arthur said smoothly. “But I prefer freedom of movement.”

Tony didn’t look convinced. The U.S. military had been hounding him for months. Every defense contractor on the planet would have traded state secrets for a glimpse of his blueprints. And here was Arthur Hayes, politely declining a gift that governments would start wars over.

It didn’t add up. Tony’s gaze lingered on Arthur – analyzing, calculating. He remembered Arthur’s name in that Avengers Initiative file. It looked like Arthur’s secret was not simple.

For the rest of the afternoon, Arthur could feel it. The scrutiny. Tony was watching him, tracking his movements, looking for the cracks in the facade.

Arthur curiously read Tony’s surface thoughts. He chuckled, learning that Tony had made it his goal to find out his secret.

Good luck with that.

Years ago, to ensure his family could live a quiet life free from unwanted attention, Arthur had instructed Eve to systematically scrub all traces of his existence from publicly accessible systems. Everything beyond his carefully curated investor profile had been quietly erased, and the process remained perpetually active. Any new information that emerged was identified and removed within hours.

S.H.I.E.L.D. maintained more detailed files, of course. But Eve had reinforced the encryption on those records to levels that would make their own cybersecurity engineers weep with frustration and envy. He was wrong.

The moment anyone cracked the encryption, the files would delete themselves.

If Tony wanted to learn Arthur’s secrets, he would have to investigate the old-fashioned way. Go into the field. Ask questions face to face. Knock on doors. Follow leads.

And knowing Tony Stark and his near-total reliance on JARVIS for anything requiring legwork, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

“Is something wrong, Tony?” Arthur asked innocently, catching Tony staring at him for the fourth time in ten minutes.

“Nothing,” Tony said, flashing his media smile. “Just thinking about upgrades.”

“Good,” Arthur smiled back. “You’re going to need them.”

—

Hayes Residence, New York

The house was quiet. Eileen and the children were asleep, worn out from the trip. Arthur sat in his study, the city lights of New York glowing softly through the window.

“Eve,” he said. “Secure line to Fury.”

“Connecting now.”

A moment later, Nick Fury’s voice filled the room, rough with fatigue. “Hayes. It’s late.”

“Is it?” Arthur took a slow sip. “I lose track. I’m curious about something, and it couldn’t wait until morning.”

“What.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know why Tony Stark has been acting strange around me lately, would you? Watching me like I’m a puzzle he needs to solve?”

“How would I know that? Stark’s your friend, not mine.”

“Interesting theory.” Arthur set down his glass. “Except his strange behavior started almost immediately after you paid him a secret visit at his Malibu residence. Quite the coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

Silence on the other end.

Arthur smiled. “It’s not worth playing clueless with me, Fury. You know that never works.”

Fury sighed. “Fine. I may have… mentioned your name. In passing.”

“In passing.”

“The man was going to find out eventually. He’s too smart not to. I just accelerated the timeline.”

“How generous of you.” Arthur’s tone was dry. “Though I have to ask – why does it matter to you if Tony knows about me or not?”

“It doesn’t. But since we’re being honest…” Fury paused. “Why are you hiding your abilities from him anyway? The man fights terrorists in a metal suit. He can handle knowing his friend is special.”

“I want to live a normal life,” Arthur said simply. “With normal friends. I want conversations about cars and whose yacht is bigger. Not aliens and magic.”

“Tony Stark is your idea of a normal friend?” Fury scoffed. “The man is a walking fusion reactor with an ego the size of Montana.”

“Normal in a world of magic and aliens,” Arthur replied, a hint of amusement coloring his voice. “It’s all relative, Fury. Surely you understand that.”

“Fair enough.” Fury actually sounded like he understood. “Though you can’t shelter him forever. He’s going to get pulled deeper whether you like it or—”

“While we’re on the subject,” Arthur interrupted smoothly, “what exactly is this Avengers Initiative you approached Tony with? And more importantly – when did I agree to join this little band of yours?”

“You didn’t. It’s a draft. A preliminary list.” Fury’s voice shifted into briefing mode, comfortable territory. “The Initiative is a response team I’m putting together to handle threats beyond conventional military capability. Extraterrestrial.”

“And you want me to be part of your superhero club.”

“I want you to help protect Earth.”

Arthur laughed softly. “I can do that perfectly well without wearing a matching uniform and attending your team-building exercises, Fury.”

“You might be strong, Hayes. But you’re one man. You can be overwhelmed. Tied down. Outnumbered. Even you have limits.”

“You have many misconceptions about my strength.” Arthur’s voice was mild, almost pitying. “But let’s not go down that particular rabbit hole tonight. I noticed you have Carol on your little list as well. Did she agree to join your merry band?”

“Not yet. But I’m confident she will.”

“Confident?” Arthur couldn’t hide his amusement. “That’s one word for it. Anyone can dream, I suppose.”

Silence stretched between them.

“By the way,” Arthur said, his tone shifting to something sharper, “if you do manage to form this club of yours – forget about me and Carol for a moment – will it actually be yours? Or will it belong to the snakes?”

“I will have that problem handled,” Fury stated flatly.

“Will you?” Arthur leaned back in his chair, leather creaking softly. “How, exactly? By replacing one infestation with another?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m talking about the Skrulls, Fury.”

The line went dead silent. Not the silence of a pause, but the silence of a man who had just stopped breathing for a second.

“How…” Fury’s voice dropped to a dangerous, gravelly whisper. “How do you know that?”

Fury was paranoid by trade, but this was different. He had kept this plan buried deeper than deep. No digital footprint. No paper trail. Communication only through face-to-face meetings in locations swept for surveillance. He had specifically stayed away from Arthur Hayes to prevent exactly this.

And yet.

“It’s a brilliant plan, really,” Arthur continued, ignoring the shock on the other end. “Elegant, even. You can’t root out Hydra without destroying S.H.I.E.L.D. in the process—the rot goes too deep, touches too many critical systems. But if you quietly replace the top Hydra personnel with Talos and his people… you can dismantle the body from the head down. Quiet. Efficient. No civil war. No public exposure.”

“Did you find Talos?” Fury demanded, the threat palpable. “Did you read his mind?”

“I haven’t met Talos recently,” Arthur replied with perfect calm. “And I haven’t been reading minds. At least, not about this. I have my own methods, Fury. They will remain my secret, but rest assured – I monitor everything that matters. Everything.”

Eve monitored everything. Every network, every system, every digital whisper. Unless Fury conducted his business in a cave with no electronics within a mile radius, nothing could be hidden from her. And even then, Arthur had other ways.

“Just a word of advice,” Arthur added, his voice turning serious. “You’re trading one infestation for another. You are placing Skrulls – shapeshifters with their own agenda, their own desperate needs – in positions of extraordinary influence within this country’s power structure. If one day they decide they don’t want to start over on some distant planet… if they decide to make this world their permanent home, their only home… you will have an even larger problem on your hands. One you helped create.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Fury snapped, though he sounded rattled. “I can control it.”

“Not a fool, and yet you think you can control everything,” Arthur’s voice was almost wondering. “It’s fascinating, really. Your greatest strength and your greatest weakness, wrapped in the same package.” He paused, letting the words settle. “Just remember this conversation when it all goes sideways. I want full credit for the ’I told you so.’ I’m going to be insufferable about it.”

“Noted.” Fury’s voice was flat. “Anything else?”

“Nothing for now.” Arthur’s smile widened in the darkness. “Goodnight, Fury. Good luck with your snakes. All of them.”

The line clicked dead.

Arthur sat in silence for a long moment, the weight of the conversation settling around him like dust.

Tony Stark, slowly circling closer to truths he couldn’t yet imagine. Nick Fury, juggling Hydra and Skrulls like a man playing with fire in a room full of gasoline. And beneath it all, currents stirring that even Arthur couldn’t fully predict.

The world was getting more complicated by the day. The calm before a storm that had been building for decades.

Arthur stood, draining the last of his whiskey, and extinguished the lamp with a thought.

“Well,” he whispered into the darkness, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Good thing I’m the one holding the wind.”

He climbed the stairs quietly, pausing at the doorway to watch Eileen sleeping peacefully, the children’s soft breathing audible from down the hall.

Whatever storms were coming, this was what he was protecting. This quiet. This peace.

This home.

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