Chapter 54: The Lightning Five-Strike Whip

Hearing Ivan Vanko’s voice, Tony Stark and James Rhodes both darkened their expressions at the same time. If ever there was a case of misfortune piling on, this was it—they were pinned beneath a group of powerful male robots, already struggling under immense pressure, and now Ivan Vanko had arrived as well. It was almost more than a man could bear.

“I gave you forty minutes, but you haven’t even managed to find a single hair of mine. Iron Man, you’re truly overrated!” Ivan Vanko’s ugly face was twisted in smug satisfaction.

Before Hammer Industries’ press conference, Ivan Vanko had called Tony Stark with a taunting challenge, declaring his intent to avenge his father’s forty years of suffering in forty minutes. That was how Stark discovered Vanko was still alive, and why he’d rushed desperately to the conference.

What Stark hadn’t anticipated was that Vanko had set a trap for him—and it worked far too well. He was in a dire state now.

For Ivan Vanko, this moment had been a long time coming. Ever since his father’s death, he’d been preparing for this day. Now, finally, his wish was fulfilled. He felt so triumphant, he could have burst into a victory dance to celebrate his joy.

“The truth is, you’re not half the man your father was. Your father drove mine to ruin; but you, you’re barely hanging on in front of me!”

“Tony! Think of something!” James Rhodes’s face was being ground into the floor by the robots; he could only send a desperate call for help through the communicator.

There was no shame in asking for help; without Tony Stark, James Rhodes was nothing.

Tony Stark struggled to lift his head, staring at Vanko’s arrogant face, gritting his teeth and shouting, “Do you think you’ve won?”

“What else? You think you still have a chance?”

Ivan Vanko signaled, and several more Iron Soldiers stepped forward, leaping onto Stark and Rhodes, pinning them even more tightly.

“Rhodey!”

This time, Stark called out before Rhodes could ask for help. “Do you want to be a hero? I need an assistant—raise your hand!”

“What?” James Rhodes wore a baffled expression, but obediently raised his hand at Stark’s command, suddenly recalling the time they’d worked together forging armor at Stark’s home.

They’d said almost the same lines then.

With perfect coordination, they reached toward each other. Their repulsors flared, energy surging as their palms met, and a massive blast erupted between them.

Boom!

The explosion generated a powerful shockwave, flinging the Iron Soldiers off their backs. Stark and Rhodes finally saw daylight, scrambling to their feet.

“I never want to go through being pinned down like that again!” Rhodes said, still shaken, and stood back-to-back with Stark, ready for battle.

Around them, the Iron Soldiers who’d been thrown off were not seriously injured. They rose, preparing to charge again.

Ivan Vanko joined in the fray.

For reasons unknown, Vanko’s own Iron Whiplash suit lacked heavy ranged weaponry; it was equipped only with two electrified whips.

When he first attacked Stark, perhaps the whips were chosen for portability—and then he got addicted?

With a spin of the shoulder rotors, the whips lashed out, stretching six or seven meters, like two electric serpents, snapping through the air toward Iron Man and War Machine.

Crack!

The two rolled out of the way, narrowly dodging the whips, only to be confronted by more Iron Soldiers.

Clang! Clang!

They were hammered back to the ground, pressed together back-to-back.

Iron Man and War Machine's ammo was nearly depleted; only the last reserves of reactor energy remained, enough for short flights or low-power repulsor blasts.

At this point, there was no holding back. Both raised their hands, aiming their repulsors directly at Whiplash’s face.

Whether their shots could break through his defense, they had no idea. But even a desperate struggle was better than none—perhaps, just perhaps, they could turn the tide.

Crack! Crack!

Whiplash’s whips struck again. After a dazzling, world-shaking display of his infamous Five Lightning Whip Combo, Iron Man and War Machine’s hopes of a comeback were dashed. They were ruthlessly pinned and battered.

Iron Man’s neck was caught in a whip; War Machine’s chest was pinned under Whiplash’s boot. It seemed Whiplash was about to claim a perfect double kill.

At that moment, Iron Man suddenly shouted, “Spider-Man, now’s the time!”

“That’s right, there’s Spider-Man!” Rhodes’ spirits lifted—he’d just been spun around like a meteor hammer by Spider-Man earlier.

“What!” Whiplash’s mask opened, and Ivan Vanko glanced around warily. But after a dozen seconds, nothing happened; only the distant cawing of crows could be heard.

Caw! Caw! Idiot! Idiot!

“Heh!” Ivan Vanko laughed wildly again.

“The great Iron Man, begging Spider-Man for help—and he hasn’t even shown up! I should have recorded this and shown the world Iron Man’s ridiculous face!”

“Ridiculous?”

A deep voice interrupted Vanko’s laughter, but Stark was puzzled—whose voice was that? It wasn’t Spider-Man’s.

Who could it be? The Green Suit Hero, perhaps? His bomber tactics would be useful, but there was no sign of his glowing green vehicle.

Before Stark could guess further, two black shadows shot from the sky.

Zing! Zing! Zzzzt!

The shadows sliced through Whiplash’s whips, the same whips that had toyed with Iron Man and War Machine, almost leashing them like dogs. Sparks flew as the whips fell to the ground.

At the same time, two black, bat-shaped throwing stars thudded into the earth.

“Are we saved?” Stark and Rhodes suddenly felt a weight lifted. In that moment, they were no longer world-saving superheroes, but helpless lambs awaiting rescue, filled with relief and gratitude.

“Who’s there?”

Ivan Vanko shouted angrily in the direction the bats had flown from. The remaining Iron Soldiers turned their guns, pouring the last of their bullets toward that spot.

Sparks exploded, but no figure appeared.

Then, from another angle, several more bat-shaped stars appeared, striking the reactors in the chests of several Iron Soldiers. Sparks flew as they lost power, collapsing backward to the ground.