Tony read the scrolling blue text in right-hand corner of his readout with a quirked eyebrow. Each line of text illuminated information that practically screamed for his attention; one scrolling headline about the hostage situation, the intelligence report about Akabar that Jarvis had just pulled up from the sea of currents events news, and the other about, what, Indian food? Which was, you know, all very well and good, but there were more, uh, pressing matters at hand
( ... )
A dotted line sprung up over the grid map, corresponding to the flight path Jarvis pointed the suit towards. "An excellent choice, sir. Better than the local dolma, anyway."
With a blast of power they were back at one hundred and fifty. Nothing near the suit's full capabilities, but as long as the US forces were kept at bay, the situation would be at a stand still; they could spare another estimated 24.354 minutes. Theoretically, anyway.
The shock absorbers took most of the heat from the sudden increase in speed, but Tony grinned as he felt the remaining percentage of pressure on his knees and calves as he took off once again. He would never get over the sheer exhilaration of flying the suit; it was almost as good as taking the Hot Rod out for a spin on a sunny day in Malibu. If flying a suit could be called driving. If, uh, driving the suit could be called flying. Technically, Jarvis was the designated driver the current moment, but it was totally better to have a talkative GPS system with an autopilot function than none at all, otherwise Tony would have been bored sick and halfway to Russia by now
( ... )
Comments 19
Reply
Reply
With a blast of power they were back at one hundred and fifty. Nothing near the suit's full capabilities, but as long as the US forces were kept at bay, the situation would be at a stand still; they could spare another estimated 24.354 minutes. Theoretically, anyway.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment