How the rest of the world hadn't put the pieces together and come to the obvious (and correct) conclusion stopped surprising Tony a long time ago. Too much misinformation, too many rumors, too little clearance- there were plenty of reasons and he had used them in his favor more often than not. Stirring up the rumor mill and giving Morrison a little more breathing room with a smokescreen wasn't helping, it's selfish. He couldn't call on a contractor if they're too damn paranoid to come out of hiding, right? It's pragmatic.
Appropriate detachment was something he'd had once upon a time. Reminding himself of those habits took work but it was kind of required. Couldn't function if he took every little jab personal, or the silence in the tower would well and truly drive him crazy.
Besides the inherent hypocrisy of working with someone unaffiliated with the accords to handle things when they couldn't, there wasn't so much as a twinge when he contacted Morrison deliberately. Tonight had been a deviation of the norm punctuated by an audible thwump of a body landing hard on the armor assembly pad among polite British conversation lilting through the room. Instinct had his arm up to call the armor in until the silhouette became familiar and-
How in the hell had Morrison gotten on top of his building in the first place? Sometimes he knew better than to ask and this would just have to remain one of those mysteries. FRIDAY cracked the door open with a hiss and Tony waved him in, shutting off the endless feed of less than important period drama in favor of pulling up the plotted data of Reaper and Talon's activities. "You know that line's secure, right?"
Not that he minded the visit but. Pride came first.
He looked over the space as he walked in, as he always did. It was too open for his taste. Too many windows. It made him itch, like he could feel a laser sight focused between his shoulder blades. Too much time in the field, too much time deep in hiding. It made him more than a little paranoid.
"Not secure enough," he said. What he was about to explain was not something that should have a written record. It was something he shouldn't be explaining at all. But Stark had proved himself more than trustworthy, and had yet to show any signs of going all darkside on him. Then again, he'd missed the signs before until it was too late to see the knife before it went into his back.
As he approached Stark, looking as uncomfortable as always in such a casual setting, he did something he'd never done before. He reached up and pulled away the face plate of his mask. He'd aged much since his supposed death, and acquired a great many scars. He was a different man than the last images of the late Jack Morrison.
"Noted." He had a new method of encryption on the massive list of projects that needed handling, bumping it up the priority list wouldn't be difficult, especially if this was going to go the way he thought it would. "FRIDAY, kill the view."
The windows went opaque in short order as the lights dimmed, the plotted data of Reaper sightings and inventory of what was taken, who was killed (sometimes there's collateral damage and sometimes it was possible to hide an assassination in collateral; he wasn't unfamiliar with the concept) and what was left behind if anything. More often than not? Not much was left as evidence, not even DNA which-
Weird. But he'd seen weirder.
"Do you want me to start with what's in your veins or the relevant details?" Super Soldier Serum replication was a longstanding project in the medical world and one Stark Industries kept an eye on due to dear old dad's involvement back in the day with Project Rebirth. But that was digging back a little far for the current concerning behavior of 'what the fuck was this cell even planning' he'd been pouring over.
If Morrison was someone capable of relaxing, he might have when the windows went opaque. He did, at least, feel a sense of relief, less exposed in some regards. But Stark was a high profile person, and an easy target with the way he advertised his location. Especially when he seemed to have just so many enemies. It did say something that the man was still alive, at least.
It took a great deal to surprise the old soldier, even more to get him to show it. But his eyes went wide as the data appeared around him. He twisted around, taking it in, rather stunned. He'd known Stark was smart and resourceful. But this went beyond his expectations. Beyond what should have been possible. Then that simple question gave him the answer he needed.
"That's meant to be classified," he said, sounding all too serious but raising an eyebrow. "Let's stick to what you know about Reaper. Specifically, before and how he became..." he gestured at the data vaguely. "...what he is." He didn't even know for sure what Reyes had become. Or just how much of the man actually remained.
"Funny you should say that, it ties into the first bit. You have- and I'm not sure 'knockoff' is the appropriate term but it's damn close- a version of Erskine's serum in use. A point he made in his notes that went beyond 'enhanced reflexes, strength, and healing' was something he underlined and is probably relevant to your situation- and Reaper's. Good becomes great. Bad? Becomes worse. Not much to go off of from a scientific standpoint but." One of them was an old, determined soldier and one of them got blown up and became a wrathful murder cloud in a Halloween costume. "Reyes-"
Because that was the only other surviving member he could track down connected to Blackwatch or Overwatch on paper (and off, and off the record just to be safe) "Got the same brand. So it's either his sunny disposition or the serum mutating when exposed to a physical cascade of organ failure via the application of explosives. Wetwork's not my thing, I'd have to dig deeper into the original research to even begin hypothesizing how he is what he is or if it's reversible."
Lowering his head, something that was almost a smile ghosted across his aged features. If this were almost anyone else, he would have been worried. He'd consider getting to word to Winston through anonymous channels to alert him to a data breach. He'd start searching for a means of destroying the data. Of keeping Stark quiet. But he'd seen how the man operated, and though trust wasn't exactly something Soldier held these days, it was close.
"This is one of those moments I'm glad you're not on their side," he mused as he lifted his head. "Not sure if the enhancement program had anything to do with it, but what Reyes became it's...something that I should have seen sooner. In the early days, we'd been good friends. Beyond brothers in arms. But when I was given the promotion to Strike Commander, he didn't take it well, despite being given a command of his own. With all I had on shoulders, I didn't see this until it was too late." Another ghost of a smile tugged onto his lips, sadder than before. "But given all you've shown me already, I'll bet you could tell me what I had for lunch the day of the explosion." It was strange talking this way, openly. He barely even spoke of these things with Ana.
"Mysterious organizations using lethal means without regard to collateral damage aren't exactly my style. For one- black's not really my color. Or skullmasks, ruins my goatee." And he did work so hard to keep it well groomed. The rest of him might look like hell warmed over on occasion but the goatee? Was more or less a part of the Tony Stark Brand at this point. Keeping it tidy was a point of pride.
"Politics do bring out the worst in people." Tony was totally only commenting on the current subject, not the rubble of his own clusterfuck glimmering in the back of his eyes when he took too long to blink. This was enough of a project to keep his mind occupied and for that, and his mysterious (but not that mysterious at all, honestly Jack) guest he was somewhat grateful. Something that would keep his mind busy enough that he might actually get some real sleep when he exhausted himself. "Gotta know all the variables to see the result of the equation- even the boring ones. So that's Reaper. Then you've got the sniping spider which, well, purple catsuits aren't exactly what I'd call discreet but then again I run around in hotrod red armor."
But he wasn't a sniper. Images came up with fluid gestures, info on Widowmaker, Doomfist- "The man with the fist the size of his head and that's got to play merry hell on his spine, who designed that thing, it's beautiful and painful to look at- and the thorn in my side more often than not-"
No photo, but a symbol. A little holographic skull. "This sneaky little thing's been trying to poke into my systems for the past few years. Not sure how they're connected to the other three but I figure they've got to be."
Through most of this, Soldier's face had been just shy of stony. Stoic and serious, generally unphased by it, beyond the mild surprise at how much Stark actually knew. But that one symbol, combined with the news that it had been in Stark's systems, got a reaction.
The moment the little, stylized skull appeared, he jerked back as if he'd been slapped. His gaze swept across the information and the room around them, as if he expected to see that girl lurking in the shadows. When the seriousness slammed down over the surprise, there was a frantic edge to it. An urgency.
"You need to erase all of this data. Immediately. If she hasn't taken your systems down, there's a reason." Stark was good, but Sombra was better. And someone as dependent on technology as Stark was, he was at more risk than anyone. One encounter with her in person was all he'd needed to know that. She'd barely touched him and took his equipment offline. He hadn't even known is visor could be hacked until then.
"She's not poking. She's WATCHING." His gaze swept the room again. Security cameras. Every system automated. This wasn't good.
"Because she can't get through? Give me some credit, Morrison, I'm not the one watching the network all the time, I've got a million other items on the docket and making sure one hacker, scarily skilled as she might be, stays out of SI's system and my personal network isn't something I can devote all day to. FRIDAY's on it." Like JARVIS before her, FRIDAY kept a tight reign on SI's data and defenses. There was too much that was sensitive to risk on any given day and habits born from working on defense contracts didn't just vanish because he's not making weapons for the military anymore. Also: Ultron. That had been...a thing and Tony did try to make a point to learn from his mistakes.
They had it covered.
"The tower might seem like a wireless model but to get access she'd have get access. Physically." Not often one built a damn server farm in the basement but it was only efficient, and as an engineer Tony delighted in efficient building practices. "I've been doing this for awhile. I know what I'm doing."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Soldier took a slow breath, his eyes squeezed shut. It wasn't often he ran up against situations he couldn't solve by hitting them. Not these days, anyway. It was supposed to be better this way. He could do the work that needed to be done, no one needed to be convinced. But here he was back in the same situation that had driven him to this. Dealing with egos.
When he spoke again, there was tension in his voice, the strain of holding himself back. The pressure of trying to pick the right words, without yelling. That sort of charisma used to be second nature to him, but it was just one of many things he'd lost in that explosion.
"She already has access. This--" he jabbed his finger the logo. "--Isn't her showing off. She doesn't sign her work. She's a ghost. She's taunting you, Stark. She's...you've never seen anything like her."
"Considering a distinct lack of incriminating files, blackmail attempts, or replicas of my work wandering around the world- if she has access and is just sitting on it? She might be unlike anything I've seen but she's an idiot." Or playing a long game, which- well. He could give her props to that. FRIDAY started the obligatory comb of the servers all the same; the sooner they found the breach? The better. "So either she's in and I'm fucked-"
Which he doubted but hell, he'd been wrong before.
"Or she's attempting to goad me into reacting. Not a dumb call but dumping this data leaves us with nothing but what's on hardcopy." And that was a bitch and a half to dig through.
A low sound erupted from Soldier's throat, somewhere between a growl and a grunt, frustrated that Tony refused to see the threat. She had allies. She could snatch up his schematics and sell them to the highest bidder. She could dismantle his company one piece at a time. She could be feeding his tracking data to Reaper direction, to throw things off and make him harder to find. And that was just the easy to see options.
With a huff, he unclipped his mask from where he'd stuck it on his belt. "She hacked this," he jabbed the edge of it against Tony's chest then dropped it on the table between them. "It took her a fraction of a second." He planted both hands on the table, leaning toward him. "Prove to me you're better than she is. Disable it without shutting it down. Without touching it."
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no subject
Appropriate detachment was something he'd had once upon a time. Reminding himself of those habits took work but it was kind of required. Couldn't function if he took every little jab personal, or the silence in the tower would well and truly drive him crazy.
Besides the inherent hypocrisy of working with someone unaffiliated with the accords to handle things when they couldn't, there wasn't so much as a twinge when he contacted Morrison deliberately. Tonight had been a deviation of the norm punctuated by an audible thwump of a body landing hard on the armor assembly pad among polite British conversation lilting through the room. Instinct had his arm up to call the armor in until the silhouette became familiar and-
How in the hell had Morrison gotten on top of his building in the first place? Sometimes he knew better than to ask and this would just have to remain one of those mysteries. FRIDAY cracked the door open with a hiss and Tony waved him in, shutting off the endless feed of less than important period drama in favor of pulling up the plotted data of Reaper and Talon's activities. "You know that line's secure, right?"
Not that he minded the visit but. Pride came first.
[ Vague works well! This is solid, thanks. ]
no subject
"Not secure enough," he said. What he was about to explain was not something that should have a written record. It was something he shouldn't be explaining at all. But Stark had proved himself more than trustworthy, and had yet to show any signs of going all darkside on him. Then again, he'd missed the signs before until it was too late to see the knife before it went into his back.
As he approached Stark, looking as uncomfortable as always in such a casual setting, he did something he'd never done before. He reached up and pulled away the face plate of his mask. He'd aged much since his supposed death, and acquired a great many scars. He was a different man than the last images of the late Jack Morrison.
"Let's start with how much you actually know."
no subject
The windows went opaque in short order as the lights dimmed, the plotted data of Reaper sightings and inventory of what was taken, who was killed (sometimes there's collateral damage and sometimes it was possible to hide an assassination in collateral; he wasn't unfamiliar with the concept) and what was left behind if anything. More often than not? Not much was left as evidence, not even DNA which-
Weird. But he'd seen weirder.
"Do you want me to start with what's in your veins or the relevant details?" Super Soldier Serum replication was a longstanding project in the medical world and one Stark Industries kept an eye on due to dear old dad's involvement back in the day with Project Rebirth. But that was digging back a little far for the current concerning behavior of 'what the fuck was this cell even planning' he'd been pouring over.
no subject
It took a great deal to surprise the old soldier, even more to get him to show it. But his eyes went wide as the data appeared around him. He twisted around, taking it in, rather stunned. He'd known Stark was smart and resourceful. But this went beyond his expectations. Beyond what should have been possible. Then that simple question gave him the answer he needed.
"That's meant to be classified," he said, sounding all too serious but raising an eyebrow. "Let's stick to what you know about Reaper. Specifically, before and how he became..." he gestured at the data vaguely. "...what he is." He didn't even know for sure what Reyes had become. Or just how much of the man actually remained.
no subject
Because that was the only other surviving member he could track down connected to Blackwatch or Overwatch on paper (and off, and off the record just to be safe) "Got the same brand. So it's either his sunny disposition or the serum mutating when exposed to a physical cascade of organ failure via the application of explosives. Wetwork's not my thing, I'd have to dig deeper into the original research to even begin hypothesizing how he is what he is or if it's reversible."
no subject
"This is one of those moments I'm glad you're not on their side," he mused as he lifted his head. "Not sure if the enhancement program had anything to do with it, but what Reyes became it's...something that I should have seen sooner. In the early days, we'd been good friends. Beyond brothers in arms. But when I was given the promotion to Strike Commander, he didn't take it well, despite being given a command of his own. With all I had on shoulders, I didn't see this until it was too late." Another ghost of a smile tugged onto his lips, sadder than before. "But given all you've shown me already, I'll bet you could tell me what I had for lunch the day of the explosion." It was strange talking this way, openly. He barely even spoke of these things with Ana.
no subject
"Politics do bring out the worst in people." Tony was totally only commenting on the current subject, not the rubble of his own clusterfuck glimmering in the back of his eyes when he took too long to blink. This was enough of a project to keep his mind occupied and for that, and his mysterious (but not that mysterious at all, honestly Jack) guest he was somewhat grateful. Something that would keep his mind busy enough that he might actually get some real sleep when he exhausted himself. "Gotta know all the variables to see the result of the equation- even the boring ones. So that's Reaper. Then you've got the sniping spider which, well, purple catsuits aren't exactly what I'd call discreet but then again I run around in hotrod red armor."
But he wasn't a sniper. Images came up with fluid gestures, info on Widowmaker, Doomfist- "The man with the fist the size of his head and that's got to play merry hell on his spine, who designed that thing, it's beautiful and painful to look at- and the thorn in my side more often than not-"
No photo, but a symbol. A little holographic skull. "This sneaky little thing's been trying to poke into my systems for the past few years. Not sure how they're connected to the other three but I figure they've got to be."
no subject
The moment the little, stylized skull appeared, he jerked back as if he'd been slapped. His gaze swept across the information and the room around them, as if he expected to see that girl lurking in the shadows. When the seriousness slammed down over the surprise, there was a frantic edge to it. An urgency.
"You need to erase all of this data. Immediately. If she hasn't taken your systems down, there's a reason." Stark was good, but Sombra was better. And someone as dependent on technology as Stark was, he was at more risk than anyone. One encounter with her in person was all he'd needed to know that. She'd barely touched him and took his equipment offline. He hadn't even known is visor could be hacked until then.
"She's not poking. She's WATCHING." His gaze swept the room again. Security cameras. Every system automated. This wasn't good.
no subject
They had it covered.
"The tower might seem like a wireless model but to get access she'd have get access. Physically." Not often one built a damn server farm in the basement but it was only efficient, and as an engineer Tony delighted in efficient building practices. "I've been doing this for awhile. I know what I'm doing."
no subject
When he spoke again, there was tension in his voice, the strain of holding himself back. The pressure of trying to pick the right words, without yelling. That sort of charisma used to be second nature to him, but it was just one of many things he'd lost in that explosion.
"She already has access. This--" he jabbed his finger the logo. "--Isn't her showing off. She doesn't sign her work. She's a ghost. She's taunting you, Stark. She's...you've never seen anything like her."
no subject
Which he doubted but hell, he'd been wrong before.
"Or she's attempting to goad me into reacting. Not a dumb call but dumping this data leaves us with nothing but what's on hardcopy." And that was a bitch and a half to dig through.
no subject
With a huff, he unclipped his mask from where he'd stuck it on his belt. "She hacked this," he jabbed the edge of it against Tony's chest then dropped it on the table between them. "It took her a fraction of a second." He planted both hands on the table, leaning toward him. "Prove to me you're better than she is. Disable it without shutting it down. Without touching it."