Miscalculation

Tony and Sean split up. The former headed alone for the Mandarin’s hideout in Tennessee, while the latter prepared to rush to Air Force One to prevent the president from being kidnapped and eliminate any chance of an accident.

Sean had seemingly casually suggested that Tony tell S.H.I.E.L.D. about this, but Tony appeared highly guarded and did not trust Nick Fury.

Thinking of Stark’s determination to play the lone hero, Sean, seated aboard his private jet, curled his lips into a faint smile. He dialed Francis Underwood’s private number. The Vice President had long since become Umbrella’s steadfast ally, and their interests were inextricably linked.

"Interested in discussing moving into the White House, Vice President?" The young man casually tossed out an offer that could not be refused.

Killian wanted to purge the nation’s upper ranks, then use Hydra’s internal infiltration to climb to a high position and seize power. It was not a bad idea. One hand would hold the most powerful leaders of the Western world, while the other controlled the most feared terrorist organization. With the Extremis Virus, A.I.M. would grow into a colossal monopoly.

But to accomplish all that, he had to get rid of the president and the Cabinet. Choosing to strike aboard Air Force One was the perfect opportunity. As for the Vice President and Congress, Hydra would naturally take care of them.

Unfortunately, Killian had not anticipated that this game contained a player with cheats who stood above the rules, so his plan was destined to be nothing but a pipe dream.

After speaking with Vice President Underwood for roughly half an hour, the ambitious veteran politician readily accepted every condition.

No one would pass up such an opportunity: the chance to sit on the White House throne and become one of the most powerful figures in the United States.

In the complicated, filthy game of politics, there had always been only one rule: interests came first.

"Please allow me to express once again my excitement and my sincere gratitude, Mr. Sipes."

At the residence, Underwood casually changed the form of address he used. That Umbrella founder was no longer the insignificant figure who had once needed protection. With a few casual words, Sean could discuss replacing the nation’s president—and he possessed the power to make it happen.

Underwood, who had always paid close attention to details, gradually adapted to the shift in their respective positions. He was a seasoned politician; notions like dignity and saving face meant nothing to him.

"What do I need to do?" the Vice President asked quietly.

Even with his composure, the thought of truly entering the White House, sitting in the Oval Office, and ascending to the pinnacle of the nation’s power filled him with uncontrollable excitement.

"Stay home and prepare a eulogy," Sean replied.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, he hung up. According to Skynet’s tracking, Colonel Rhodey’s Iron Patriot had arrived in Pakistan half an hour earlier. Given Killian’s efficiency, he had likely begun the "Trojan Horse" plan by now—obtaining the Patriot armor, using it as a disguise to board Air Force One, and successfully kidnapping the president.

Then Killian would use the Mandarin’s puppet identity to publicly execute President Ellis before the entire world, creating massive panic. After that, Hydra would make its grand entrance and stir up trouble.

"Have a safe trip, Tony." Sean smiled faintly.

Just as Killian had said, he would soon become the nation’s power behind the throne. Umbrella’s grand blueprint could begin expanding in earnest.

"I wonder whether that guy Sean can handle it?"

Carrying a pile of little gadgets he had invented, Tony infiltrated the poorly guarded Ten Rings hideout. Thanks to Killian taking a large number of men with him, the manor’s security force had been reduced by two-thirds, leaving only a few fierce, burly mercenaries.

With a compact Electromagnetic Pulse Weapon, electrified gloves, and homemade grenades, Tony still successfully entered the manor despite not having his Iron Armor.

"If Jarvis were here, I really should have recorded that just now and let everyone know I actually have what it takes to be an agent."

Tony generously praised himself as he cautiously pushed open the doors. The living room was a complete mess, like the aftermath of a wild party. Scattered bottles, pizza boxes, women’s clothing, and a stripper lying on a table greeted his eyes.

After catching several guards off guard and taking them down, Tony gripped a pistol and burst into a spacious hall decorated like a television studio. The screens were filled with the Mandarin’s threat videos, the Ten Rings emblem had been painted across the walls, and imitation firearms covered the tables.

Rather than a terrorist organization’s hideout, this place looked more like a movie set.

After sneaking deeper into the bedroom, Tony found the culprit responsible for plunging America into a state of anxiety: a rambling old man.

The man possessed none of the grim, imposing menace he had projected in the videos. This Mandarin was all smiles and jokes, talking as though he were high, his words disjointed and incoherent. He did not resemble the leader of a terrorist organization in the slightest.

He seemed more like a third-rate comedian, absurd and laughable.

"Enough! You’re not the Mandarin. Where’s the real one?"

Tony pointed his gun at the old man. He could not believe the person before him was the Ten Rings leader. Though they looked identical, their temperaments were worlds apart.

If all of this was an act, then the Mandarin’s acting skills were far too good.

"He’s here, but he’s not here. It’s complicated… Wait, don’t shoot! My name is Trevor Slattery. I’m not bait or a stand-in. I’m just an actor." Wearing an innocent expression, the old man immediately confessed everything he knew. "This is only a role. ‘The Mandarin’ isn’t a real person."

"You know, as an actor, it’s perfectly normal to do a little drugs now and then. Then, when I wasn’t in my right mind, I did some bad things… They found me and said they’d give me more drugs, along with other stuff…"

"Killian created you? He planned the bombings too?" Tony asked coldly.

He had previously suspected that Killian might be the mastermind behind everything, merely cooperating with the Mandarin and the Ten Rings. But he had never imagined that the terrorist organization and its leader were entirely fictional.

"He needed someone to take responsibility for those terrorist attacks, so he created the image of an evil leader… Though of course, it was mainly my brilliant performance that made the Mandarin such a fully realized character."

"Your performance? Was murder part of the performance too?"

Tony stared at him speechlessly. Thinking that this idiot was the Mandarin made him feel embarrassed. The evil mastermind he had been so determined to destroy was actually like this.

"Look around you. Costumes, green screens, fake guns. I don’t kill people. I’m just a dedicated actor." The old man casually opened a can of cola.

"Where’s Killian? And his super army?" Tony asked the crucial question.

He had initially believed the Mandarin’s hideout was the most dangerous place, which was why he had sent Sean to rescue the president. But it appeared that was not the case. Killian had set his sights on Air Force One.

"They went to carry out the final plan." The old man rolled his eyes and answered briskly.

"Damn it!" Tony hurriedly called Jarvis. "It’s time. Activate the Iron Legion."