Tony Stark's behavior had gone beyond reckless. This was actively suicidal.
A man of great wealth should avoid danger at all costs. Most people in his position would steer clear of anything risky. Stark was already sprinting down the highway to oblivion.
That was why Pepper and Happy were panicking. They couldn't fathom what Stark was thinking—they only knew they had to stop him. The two of them bolted for the exit.
Daisy's sharp eyes flicked to Black Widow. She was starting to feel her timing had been a little too convenient. Should've come later.
"What are you doing here?" Natasha's expression stayed neutral, her voice barely above a whisper.
"You might not believe this... I came to ask a few aerodynamics questions." Daisy's voice was equally low, but the answer made Natasha's jaw tighten. You flew all the way to Europe for aerodynamics? She could only chalk it up to not understanding how these science types thought.
"They already know you're an agent. Go—stay on their heels. And for the love of God, help me keep Stark alive." Natasha couldn't order a Level 8 agent around, but she could ask.
Daisy thought it over for two seconds, then nodded.
She moved fast. A few sharp cuts through the chaotic crowd and she was outside. Happy was about to get behind the wheel.
Their urgency was commendable. The car, however, was a problem.
A Rolls-Royce Phantom. Trying to corner and accelerate on a race circuit in something that long was an exercise in futility.
The fact that Happy hadn't killed himself and Pepper in the original timeline was nothing short of a miracle.
"I'll drive. You two try to reach him." Daisy slid into the driver's seat, bumping Happy to the passenger side.
Happy knew Coulson, but he had no idea what Daisy was capable of. Fortunately, Pepper did.
"Daisy, hurry! Please!" Pepper was beside herself with worry, too frantic to care that Daisy's outfit was wildly impractical for driving.
They pulled out of the hotel and drove against traffic to find Stark. High-speed driving on roads this narrow demanded serious skill.
Happy might have been fine driving himself, but watching someone else do it—especially a woman in a pencil skirt and heels stomping the accelerator—turned his face white. His considerable mass jiggled with every turn.
Fortunately, Daisy's driving skills were excellent, and her reflexes were streets ahead of any normal human. She pushed the Phantom to its top speed.
The dual-lane layout existed for the race. The drivers had no idea someone was coming the wrong way. Cars peppered the track left and right, gaps between them barely visible.
Daisy met the horrified stares of several drivers head-on, threading through gaps measured in inches, wrong-way, at full speed.
"Daisy, there's some maniac trying to kill Tony—forget about us, can you go ahead on your own?" Pepper knew Daisy had abilities she didn't understand, abilities Daisy normally kept hidden.
She wouldn't usually impose like this, but desperation had overridden everything else. Her voice was pure plea—hoping Daisy would go on alone to save Stark.
As for what would happen to her and Happy, whether they'd be in danger—Pepper hadn't spared it a thought.
"Relax, I can already see Tony!" The distance wasn't far. A dozen or so race cars total, and between the ones Vanko had stopped and the ones Daisy had swerved past, the remaining stretch was clear.
At full speed, she reached the scene in under five minutes. In the distance, she could see Ivan Vanko lashing Tony Stark with a pair of electrified whips.
Vanko's getup begged the question: how had Monaco's organizers let this man onto the track? A hulking, grimy brute with a conspicuously bulging chest harness, and not a single person had flagged him?
And the incident was already five minutes old. Nobody on scene had intervened? Did the race organizers not even have a handgun? A thousand-plus spectators milling around the track—collectively, they could have drowned Vanko in spit.
Daisy could only conclude that small, peaceful countries had zero crisis awareness.
In the original timeline, Happy had rammed Vanko with the Phantom. Bold move. Tempting, too. She'd never rammed anyone with a car this nice. Considering the billionaire probably wouldn't make her pay for it, she floored the accelerator. Here goes.
The Rolls-Royce slammed into Ivan Vanko dead center. The Spirit of Ecstasy hood ornament took the brunt of the impact and twisted violently to one side.
Between his narrow escape and the force of the hit, Stark didn't immediately recognize his own Phantom. Not until Pepper screamed his name at the top of her lungs did he realize it was his car.
Pepper waved frantically for him to get in, but Stark had nerves of steel—or maybe he was just oblivious.
He was more curious about why Daisy was driving his car. He wasn't just curious. He asked. "Why are you in my car?"
"Remember this: I just saved your life. Again. Now, the reason I came—hold on! Happy, do you have a gun?" Daisy cut herself off mid-sentence. Vanko's fingers had twitched.
The Russian's constitution was absurd. Spawn-point passive: Born Tough. Setting Daisy aside, Ivan Vanko was easily the most physically gifted physicist alive. Built like a bear, shirtless, hit head-on by a car at high speed with zero cushioning—and showing signs of consciousness in under ten seconds.
Vanko came equipped with elite hacking skills and the ability to build arc reactors. Those two capabilities were the foundation of Daisy's current standing. In practical terms, Vanko represented serious competitive pressure. To prevent S.H.I.E.L.D. from continuing its grand tradition of recruiting enemy scientists, she wanted him eliminated on the spot.
A robust physique didn't extend to bullet resistance, did it?
To her dismay, Happy—the bodyguard—was spectacularly unprepared. Not a single firearm on his person or anywhere in the vehicle.
Daisy had rushed out without her sidearm either—guns were "accessories" she'd skipped today.
She went with what had worked before. Reverse. Gas. Here goes again. Second impact. Whether Vanko survived was anyone's guess, but the Phantom's headlight exploded on one side and the front end crumpled further.
Meanwhile, Stark was still chattering away, asking what she was doing here.
"What am I doing here? Well, funny story—I had a question I wanted to run by you." She was coming to him for help, so Daisy kept it polite. The setting just happened to be slightly off.
Pepper then discovered another trait Daisy and Stark shared: neither of them could be relied upon.
The two of them stood in broad daylight debating aerodynamics. You want to talk science, fine—but at least leave the scene first. Or kill the enemy. One or the other!
Neither of them paid Pepper any attention. Stark was oblivious; Daisy simply didn't care.
The palladium poisoning was taking its toll on Stark. Toxins had seeped beneath his skin, darkening his complexion noticeably. He was genuinely dark—rivaling Fury, even. Pepper, who saw him every day, hadn't noticed the change. Daisy spotted it in a single glance.