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"that thing in your chest is based on unfinished technology," fury started.
i cracked open a can of redbull, and sat on one of the chairs. the house was still pretty much broken behind us, but that was okay. nothing we couldn't get fixed.
my dad shook his head, disagreeing with fury, "no, it was finished. it has never been particularly effective until i miniaturized it and put it in my—"
"no," fury cut in. "howard said the arc reactor was the stepping stone to something greater. he was about to kick off an energy race that was gonna dwarf the arms race. he was on to something big, something so big that it was gonna make the nuclear reactor look like a triple-a battery."
"just him, or anton vanko in on this too?"
"anton vanko is the other side of that coin. anton saw it as a way to get rich. when your father found out, he had him deported. when the russians found out he couldn't deliver they shipped his ass off to siberia and he spent the next twenty years in a vodka-fueled rage. not quite the environment you want to raise a kid in — the son you had the misfortune of crossing paths with in monaco," he gave my dad a meaningful look.
"he's talking about whiplash," i clarified.
"i know who he's talking about."
"whiplash?" fury interjected.
"it's what i call him," i shrugged. "sounded cool to me, though we were running on adrenaline and close to dying, so i'm pretty sure someone could've named him 'rainbow dash' and i would've gone with it."
my dad leaned forward, "you told me i hadn't tried everything. what do you mean i haven't tried everything? what haven't i tried?"
"he's right dutchman," i told the son of athena (it just hit me, he's annabeth's half-brother). "i went over his notes last night... and well, tests have been run on everything. no success. nothing we can even use as a temporary replacement."
