The Steel Handshake: Part Two

by DarkMark

"You have got to be kidding me, boss."

Tony Stark looked up at his secretary. "Do I look like I'm kidding, Miss Greer?"

"Um, no," she admitted. She mentally reviewed her retirement plans and wondered if they still had effect if she were fired. "But, Mr. Stark. A Russian?"

Stark nodded. "To be specific, a Russian with high recommendations. One a friend of mine insisted I take on for a week, as part of an exchange program. So we like it and we lump it, for just that long. Understood?"

"Understood," sighed Miss Greer.

"Buzz him in."

The secretary called their guest in with the intercom. The door from the waiting area opened and the aforementioned Russian walked in. Despite herself, Miss Greer's eyebrows rose.

The Russian was as big as a pro halfback, looking uncomfortable in a blue suit and red tie. His hair was cut in a rough flattop, and his face looked as solid as the rest of him. Despite that, he looked reassuringly human. He also looked as though he didn't want to be there. That, thought Miss Greer, makes two of us.

"Mr. Rasputin?" said Tony Stark, stolidly sticking his hand out. "I'm Tony Stark."

"I am Piotr Rasputin," said the Russian, and took his host's hand, pumping it once perfunctorily. "How do you do?"

"Fine, thanks," said Stark. "Let me give you the Cook's Tour of the plant."

"I have already had breakfast, sir."

"Just an expression."

Miss Greer had been giving the Russian a more curious look since he mentioned his name. Tony noticed it. "In case you're wondering, Miss Greer," he said, "he's no relation to that Rasputin. We checked."

"Oh. Okay," she said.

-C-

Piotr, sitting in the well-padded Formica chair, looked over the office of Anthony Stark, capitalist of capitalists. In terms of opulence, it far outdid even Professor Xavier's chambers at the Mansion. And those were kilometers beyond the offices he had seen in Russia, even when his brother had invited him and his family to the installation for cosmonauts.

It was tempting. But, one had to admit, Stark got this luxury through the undoubtedly poorly-paid labor of thousands of workers. He determined not to be swayed by the display. Piotr sat as a soldier, at attention.

Tony Stark made his way behind his desk and sat down. "First off, let me welcome you to Stark International. We employ over 100,000 workers worldwide, and for this week, you'll be number 100,001. Roughly speaking." He smiled, trying to make a joke of it.

Piotr smiled back, politely. "Thank you, Mr. Stark. What will be my duties here?"

"Well, you'll be working as a guard, Piotr. You'll be in some of the lower-security parts of the plant. No offense, I trust."

"None taken."

"You will be paid for your week's labor here, don't worry. We'll send the check to the Xavier school, with the instruction that you be paid the listed amount when they cash it. I have to do it that way, since the professor told me you aren't yet a legal immigrant."

"I do have a visa, Mr. Stark. But I intend to retain my citizenship in the Motherland."

Tony Stark flinched a bit. That was good.

"I see," said Stark. "But you don't yet have a Social Security number, and the government might give me problems about employing you directly. So this is the way we do it, for now. By the way, you're not the first Russian to work for us."

"I would be surprised if I was, Mr. Stark."

Tony leaned forward with one elbow on the desk. "One of your predecessors was Comrade Ivan Vanko. He was known as Krasnoe Dinamo...the Crimson Dynamo in our language. The first one."

"Da," said Piotr. He hoped he was concealing his displeasure.

"Comrade Vanko gave his life to save Iron Man from the second Dynamo," Stark continued. "A very heroic act. One which both Iron Man and I held in great regard. Later, the second Dynamo's partner, the Black Widow, became a..."

"She defected," Piotr interrupted. "As Comrade Vanko defected. I know of these things, Mr. Stark. With all due regards, I do not wish to defect. I would prefer not to hear of these things."

Stark paused. "So," he said. "You think Vanko's action is of little consequence?" He looked as if he was banking back a Vesuvius of anger.

"No, not at all, Comra...Mister Stark," said Piotr, holding up one hand. "I apologize for my remarks. I do not wish to give offense."

"It's hard to see how you haven't," said Tony Stark. "Iron Man saw that man die, Mr. Rasputin. Vanko sacrificed his life to protect him, and, without any exaggeration, the American way of life, from a KGB super-villain. This is not a small thing, Mr. Rasputin, and I will not see it regarded so callously."

"Mr. Stark," said Piotr. "I understand that your...employee, Iron Man, was threatened by one of our agents. If Comrade Vanko did such a thing..."

"`If', nothing. He did it!"

"...All right, Mr. Stark, he did this thing. I understand that he had chosen this way of life, that he had defected, and that his act to save Iron Man and prevent himself from being repatriated was, in his view, an heroic act. We are agreed on this point. Are we not?"

"So far," said Stark.

"Yet, if Vanko had not done such a thing, the probability is that he would merely have been brought back to the Motherland to work for the state once again. Is this not so?"

"Hell, no! The second Dynamo was going to kill him after he killed Iron Man. That after he stole a laser weapon Vanko had developed, which he was going to take back to the `Motherland'. Vanko dared everything, Mr. Rasputin, to preserve a country and a way of life he had come to love, in the short time he was here. He did it for me, he did it for Iron Man, and he did it for America."

Piotr's hands were clasped in his lap. "If you say this is so, and if you have personal knowledge of it, then it may be so."

Stark came out from behind the desk and stood in front of it, only a couple of feet away from Piotr Rasputin. "You just don't get it, do you, Rasputin? If I could show you the scar I've got on my chest, you might understand. I picked it up as a result of a booby-trap in Vietnam. One of your Asian comrades left a grenade for us to trip over. I took it in the chest. They only put me together again, as best they could, because they recognized me and thought they could get me to work on their side. I was saved by Iron Man. My partner, a Vietnamese scientist, wasn't so damn lucky. They cut him in half with a machine gun."

Rasputin nodded. "We both know, Mr. Stark, that the cold war was only cold on some fronts. But good men have died on both sides."

"You never stopped! The Red Barbarian, two more Dynamos, the Widow, the Scarecrow, the Unicorn, the Crusher, Half-Face, the Monster-Master...and those were only the ones Iron Man fought alone. Every one of them, sent by or working with the `Motherland' or their allies. They all wanted to bring both of us down, Iron Man and me, because we were such great symbols of Capitalism." Stark sighed. "You really think you know."

"Mr. Stark," said Piotr. "Is it not true you were making weapons of war?"

"Yes, it was," said Stark. "Although I gave that up some years back."

"But at that time, you were a munitions manufacturer," said Piotr. "And many of those weapons were invented, designed, by yourself. Is that not so?"

Stark said, "It sure as hell was, Piotr. Don't you think your side was doing the same?"

"It was. But if, sir, you were making those weapons, which were to be used against the Motherland, is it not proper that the Motherland attempted to stop you from making them?"

"I wouldn't call it proper," said Stark. "I fought to defend freedom. They fought to destroy it."

"That, Mr. Stark, would depend on one's definition of `freedom,'" said Colossus. "The freedom to have a crime-ridden society, da, that is yours. My land is not riddled by battling super-heroes and super-villains. Such is not allowed."

"Now, just a minute-"

"The freedom to be immoral, da, that is yours. Such stores, such magazines as I have seen over here, selling women or their images for profit in ways which would shame a whorehouse manager...that, you would not see in my land."

"You might be surprised at what your masters sneak in," said Tony. "But I'm no friend of smut, either. Your point?"

"Also, the freedom to have over one in ten of your able workers unemployed, that is yours," Piotr continued. "In my land, all are employed. All can work. And all are paid."

"Because they'll be shot if they don't," said Stark. "And they get paid barely enough to stand in line for hours at a GUM store, where they're lucky if they can afford to buy anything and really lucky if it isn't sold out by the time they get there. I'm not buying your line of reasoning, Mr. Rasputin."

"Then, Mr. Stark, one can perhaps understand if I, in turn, do not buy yours. Da, you have had difficulties with the Motherland. That is regrettable. But can you deny that you would have had them, if you had not opposed and worked against the Motherland first?"

Tony shook his head. "That makes as much sense as if you expect me to understand being attacked by the Red Skull if I was in World War II and worked against the Nazis. It still doesn't wash, Piotr."

"Do you remember who was one of your country's allies against the Nazis, Comrade Stark?" Piotr's eyes were very serious. "Do you remember one which bled the most, sacrificed the most, to defeat Hitler? Do you remember that, Mr. Stark?"

"I do," said Stark. "Just as I remember who took over half of Europe once the war was over. I honor your sacrifice in that war, Piotr, no question about it. But I despise the imperialism and tyranny it spread afterward."

Piotr rocked back in his chair. "Mr. Stark, I do not care to hear my country spoken of in that fashion."

"Nor do I care for what your country has done to mine," said Stark. "Shall I show you something?"

"It is your office, Mr. Stark."

Tony went behind his desk, pulled open a drawer, touched a control, and caused two sections of wall behind Colossus to telescope into slots. Behind them, a large-screen TV was seen. Stark manipulated another control. "I brought this tape up specifically for you," he said.

Piotr watched.

The videotape which was played showed some scenes which he had seen before, in his youth. It was the first battle between Iron Man and Titanium Man, which had been staged for the world to see in a European battlefield. The commentary from American newscasters was new to him, but he disregarded it and concentrated on the pictures.

Not far into the tape, he saw the first thing that made him flinch.

The Titanium Man was shown unleashing a booby trap at Iron Man.

This was not something he had seen on the homeland broadcasts. Could it have been inserted by the Americans?

If it was, he had to admit that their video technology was brilliant. And he was experienced mainly in farming, not in TV production.

There were, he realized, a few scenes that had been shown on Soviet TV that were not included in this American broadcast. Some had emphasized the Avenger's pain and seeming helplessness after the Titanium Man's attacks. Each side, he decided, had their own fence of censorship.

Then another scene appeared. The one in which an outsider had come to Iron Man's aid with a weapon. The outsider, a man in no protective clothing, stood atop a small rise of land and yelled to Iron Man, waving the weapon. Iron Man turned.

Titanium Man blasted Iron Man while his face was turned away.

The impact of the blast ricocheted in part from his armor and struck the newcomer, felling him.

The man went down like a stalk of wheat before a sickle.

Colossus set bolt upright, watching the scene intently.

On the screen, Iron Man jetted to his friend immediately. From what he could see of the Titanium Man, the latter was using the respite to assemble a weapon from his utility packs. But Iron Man did not appear concerned with that. He cradled his fallen friend, examined him, and spoke with him. It was all he appeared to be able to do, and the tone of Iron Man's body bespoke the sorrow he felt for a dying friend.

This, Piotr felt, could not be a fake. The Titanium Man seen in this segment was the same as in the previous ones. Unless this was an incredibly well-done piece of propaganda, Iron Man was exposing himself to deadly danger for the sake of his friend.

The fallen man handed Iron Man a small device, then slumped unconscious-or dead. After a moment, Iron Man lay him gently down on the ground, then stuck the device in his belt, arose from his crouch, and slowly turned to face the Titanium Man.

With a terrible purpose in his stride, he moved forward.

"I have seen enough," said Piotr.

"Not yet," said Stark.

The story played through its end, with Iron Man using the Enervator to defeat the Titanium Man. At the end, Iron Man removed his foe's great green helmet and took it back with him as a token of victory. There was more after that, but Stark cut off the machine.

He waited.

"Did the man die?" asked Piotr, after a long pause.

"Very close to it," Stark replied. "He was comatose for weeks. Finally, an experimental treatment was used on him. It saved his life, but not before it turned him into a superhuman, rampaging freak for a time. On occasion, the freak-state has remanifested in him. The legacy of the Titanium Man."

"I am sorry for him," said Piotr, sincerely. "But Comrade Titanium Man did not deliberately hit him with that blast."

"No," said Stark. "But he deliberately hit Iron Man with a lot of booby traps. He also didn't try to help Happy when he was struck."

"So this is why Iron Man hates me so," said Piotr Rasputin.

"I don't think he hates you," said Stark. "But you can see, now, why he's not too warm towards the Motherland."

"Is Professor Xavier's vision, then, a false one?" asked Piotr. "Can there be no approach between heroes of different views, different systems?"

"Well, Piotr, I guess that's what we're here to find out." Stark looked at him. "Are you willing?"

Piotr stood up and offered Stark his hand. "More than willing. Comrade Iron Man may be an enemy of the state. But I will work with him. And I will give no harm to a man without cause."

Stark took the Russian's hand. "That's all I ask for. Years ago, I took the hand of Vanko in just this way. He never gave me cause to regret it. For this week, Piotr, follow in his footsteps. Please."

"I will not defect. But I will be trustworthy. One last thing, Mr. Stark. Is it not true that the media of the United States also, at times, deceives the American people?"

Stark was on the point of an angry denial when he flashed back to an event not so far in the past. The day in which the Secret Empire had besieged the White House, and Captain America had witnessed a suicide of the Empire's leader in the Oval Office. But not before the man, Number One, had been unmasked before him.

After that, a coverup had immediately been instated. A man appearing to be the president had made a speech of resignation, and a family that appeared to be the ex-president and his own had boarded a helicopter and left.

All to conceal the fact that Number One, who had died in the Oval Office, had spent several years of his life there.

"Unfortunately, Piotr," said Stark, finally, "sometimes...I could not deny that."

-C-

Before long, Piotr Rasputin was given a guided tour of the Flushing, New York plant of Tony Stark. He was greeted with forced smiles at first, but began to win over those he met with his earnest farmboy manner, albeit gradually. More than once, an exec or union guy had taken Stark aside for a moment and said, "But, Mr. Stark, he's a..." And been met by a, "Yes, I know. But he's only here for a week. And fifteen years ago, you'd have been acting like this if he were black."

It was a false analogy, Stark knew, but it seemed to do the job. What it boiled down to was: the Boss wants this done, so do it the Boss's way. He also had no doubt that Piotr would be scrutinized during every minute of his stay. Which was fine by Stark.

At the end, Piotr had picked up his guard's uniform, went into the locker room, and come back dressed for the part. He adjusted the police-style cap on his head and smiled a bit nervously for the crew. "Am I one of the workers, now?" he asked.

Tony came up and attached a plastic photo-ID card to his lapel with an alligator clip. "Now you are," he said. "And folks, let's give a round of applause to our new employee of the week, Mr. Peter Rasputin."

Piotr looked embarrassed as the crew gave him a hand, but he kept his smile up, sheepishly.

A balding man in his late forties or early fifties came up to shake his hand. "Abe Klein, young fella. The name's Abe Klein. Say, I wonder if you could help me with something."

"I will be glad to, if I may," said Piotr.

"Got a few members of the family over in your country," Abe said. "They want to emigrate to Israel. Government won't let `em. Suppose it'd help if you put in a word?"

The request was made in a low voice. Only Piotr and possibly Stark had heard. But the pleading look he gave Piotr left no doubt of his sincerity.

"I have no voice in these matters, Mister Klein," said Piotr. "I have no political advantage. I am sorry, but I wish your family the best of luck in emigration."

"But you're important enough to come over here," Klein insisted. "I don't think you're just an exchange student from Moscow U., for cat's sake. Can't you do anything?"

Piotr hesitated. "If I could, Mr. Klein, I would do so. But I am only an...an exchange student. I am sorry."

Klein released his hand. "Yeah," he said. "Not half as sorry as I am."

Stark was herding a couple of others towards him, a man and a red-headed woman. "Piotr, here are two others I think you want to meet. Happy Hogan and his wife Pepper. Happy also works security for me, and...you've seen him on film."

Piotr looked at the big man beside Stark, who looked as though his face would break if he tried to smile. "This is the one who...was hurt?"

Pepper looked tense. Happy's expression, as usual, gave away little. But he said, "If you're talkin' about the guy from your country, in a tin suit, that's me. I also got bashed up pretty bad by the Unicorn. But I still got a few good rounds left in me, pal."

Piotr grabbed him in a big hug. "I am glad to meet you, comrade," he said. "If only to know that you did not die after what I saw. And in as much as I may offer apology for what you went through, allow me to do so. You will never suffer such treatment from Piotr Rasputin!"

"Hey, you big Volga boatman, put him down!" said Pepper.

"Ease up, Pep," advised Stark.

"Gladda hear it," said Happy. "Now, put me down and tell me: you ever boxed any?"

"Not often," said Piotr, letting Happy loose. "I was once on my youth group's wrestling team. You have been a fist-fighter, da?"

"Uh, from those who saw his fights, there's still disagreement about that," Pepper said, mildly.

"Aw, c'mon, Pep," Happy said. "Yeah, I pushed leather awhile. You feel like it, and you got the time, look me up and I'll show you some o' how it's done."

"I would be most grateful for that, Mr. Hogan," said Piotr. "If I have the time."

"Oh, boy," said Pepper, resignedly, then stuck out her hand for a shake. Piotr took it and kissed it. Her eyes went wide.

"Uh, I think he's being formal, Pepper," Tony offered.

In a moment, Pepper smiled.

"I think he's being nice," she said.

-I-

Elsewhere, a meeting of a different sort was taking place. Two of the three attending were in costume. One wore a simple business suit.

"It's confirmed," said Karl Kort, the one in civvies. "Stark does have access to dimensional transport. They hushed it up, but our sources confirmed that the Avengers used it to go to and come back from another world, in the Roxxon affair."

"So we're going ahead," said the second, outfitted in an all-green outfit. He hadn't appeared publicly since a battle with the Human Torch years ago, and since then, several others had taken his name. But Charles Stanton still felt he had the proper claim to the title of the Destroyer. "But what about that new guy we've been told about? The one from your homeland?"

The third man at the table pushed his seat back and arose, placing his gauntleted hands on the table. Even these simple motions seemed threatening, to the other two in the room, and they were very glad they were on his side.

"If he'll go with us, no problem," said the Unicorn. "If he stands with Iron Man, I will kill him."

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