"Boom!"
The rocket slammed into the gate and blew it apart.
The security guard was thrown backward, badly wounded, skidding across the floor in a heap as the mercenaries from the other vehicles piled out and stormed straight into Blade Tech Industries.
Natasha Romanoff flinched at the blast.
This was Washington, D.C.
The middle of the city.
Did these people have a death wish?
Drex Valen calmly pulled up the surveillance feed and watched the attackers in tactical gear, rifles up and moving with ugly purpose.
So that was it?
He had half expected a package delivery.
A bomb hidden inside it.
This was almost disappointingly direct.
Natasha immediately contacted her superior.
Nick Fury picked up at once, and even he sounded caught off guard by how reckless the assault was. These mercenaries were really willing to gamble their lives for money.
"Natalie, keep Drex Valen safe. The company's got fifty War Machines inside. That should hold until the police and military arrive. I'll call in the National Guard units nearby."
The order came fast.
Whatever Fury thought of Drex Valen, whatever suspicions still lingered about Tony Stark, that all changed after the AIDS cure.
The man had become too valuable to lose.
A genius like that did not come along once in a generation.
He came along once in a century, maybe once in human history.
Someone like Drex might uncover the secret of aging. He might cure cancer. He might solve every disease that had ever haunted mankind.
In practical terms, his value was almost impossible to measure.
Anyone who moved against him would be moving against human interests themselves.
The military response was swift.
Helicopters roared in almost immediately.
And the War Machines Drex had transferred to the United States were already on the move too. Every unit not currently deployed elsewhere rushed back to the tower.
"Move!"
The beast soldiers in security suits climbed into the War Machines, and the first wave of mercenaries was shredded before they even got their bearings.
The War Machines inside Blade Tech Industries were effectively upgraded versions of the original design.
Mounted on the right shoulder was an automatic machine gun linked to an assist system that locked on to targets and fired rounds capable of punching through twenty millimeters of standard steel.
On the back sat an enlarged ammunition pack.
The left shoulder carried a missile pod loaded with silver-coated warheads.
Those rockets used a new chemical payload. One missile, about the size of a finger, could blow apart a tank. The chemical reaction inside it produced intense fire in seconds, hot enough to melt titanium alloy.
Then there was the chest.
Two armor plates split open, revealing more missiles inside.
These ones had gold-painted tips.
Even more powerful.
Built specifically for demolishing hardened structures.
The War Machines' firepower was brutal, and the mercenaries were quickly pinned down.
Then came a blast.
"Bang!"
One War Machine's head suddenly exploded, the impact rocking the heavy frame backward.
A mercenary with an anti-materiel sniper rifle smirked.
War Machines were tough. Most weapons bounced off them.
But that was an armor-piercing explosive round, fired from an anti-materiel platform.
One shot, one kill.
That was how it was supposed to work.
Except the machine he'd just dropped began to rise again.
Its left shoulder pod lifted open.
A silver missile shot out with a shriek.
"Fuck!"
The mercenary dove and rolled with his rifle clutched tight, expecting the missile to smash into the wall.
It did not.
The warhead curved beautifully through the air, guided with savage precision, and slammed straight into him.
"Boom!"
By the time the blast faded, there was nothing left of the mercenary worth finding.
The beast soldier muttered a curse under his breath.
Good thing the company's War Machines had sub-kryptonite coating.
If they had been using standard armor, that sniper shot would have taken the head clean off.
Ordinary War Machines were made of steel alloy.
Drex's version was not ordinary.
Every surface had been treated with a secondary kryptonite coating, pushing the defense higher by several brutal degrees.
A Barrett round with armor-piercing explosive payload might leave a ten-millimeter dent in the armor.
That was all.
A hit anywhere else could be ignored.
But the head was different.
The head was a weakness.
That was why the beast soldier had answered with a silver missile, just to make a point.
By then, the American helicopters and the military War Machines had arrived.
They pushed in immediately.
But the mercenaries at the front gate opened fire and dropped several soldiers before they could advance.
After that, the War Machines took the lead.
The troops fell in behind them and used the armored frames as cover, popping out only long enough to return fire.
The War Machines had no such problem.
They raised the military's favored beast, the Browning 12.7mm M2HB heavy machine gun.
A vehicle-mounted monster.
"Doom-doom-doom-doom-doom!"
The thunder of sustained fire shook the building.
More than a dozen War Machines opened up while advancing.
Blade Tech Industries had excellent construction materials, or the structure would have been shredded outright. Even the M2HB rounds barely left any visible damage.
Without that reinforcement, the barricades would have been punched through and everyone behind them would already be dead.
Then another blast echoed through the corridor.
One War Machine's head detonated, a massive hole blown clean through the armor.
The machine toppled backward and hit the floor hard.
"Fall back! They've got armor-piercing rounds!"
The other War Machines reacted instantly, scattering to avoid becoming easy targets.
Fortunately, they were not slow, clumsy tanks.
Not with enough power.
With sufficient energy, War Machines were more agile than people and much faster on their feet.
Their weaknesses had already been studied.
Normal heavy weapons could not do much to the steel alloy shell, but humans were experts at killing each other, and there was no shortage of anti-armor solutions.
Armor-piercing explosive rounds were the usual answer.
Some lunatics even used depleted uranium.
Once their lives were on the line, the War Machines grew meaner.
One unit grabbed a weapons crate from a logistics team and ripped it open.
Inside were specially modified rocket launchers.
Outside, a mercenary chewed on gum and waited.
Nothing was happening.
He smirked.
War Machines? In a narrow corridor like this? Set up a sniper rifle and they would be too scared to show their heads.
Then movement flashed outside.
A War Machine peeked out.
The mercenary's eyes widened when he saw what it was holding.
He tried to raise his rifle and stop it.
Too slow.
The War Machine fired first, launching two rockets in quick succession.
With laser guidance assisting the trajectory, there was no chance of missing.
The warheads also carried an enlarged blast radius.
The mercenary abandoned his rifle and tried to run.
He made it only a few steps.
The explosions hit behind him and hurled him forward like a rag doll.
His organs were crushed by the shockwave before he even finished flying through the air.
By the time he hit the ground, he was already dead.
The fireball and heat that followed were just insult layered on top of corpse duty.
From her office, Natasha Romanoff watched the surveillance feed Drex had opened.
She had now seen enough to understand the full combat power of Blade Tech Industries.
What she did not know was that Drex had not even deployed his automated mechanical troops yet.