Stark ducked under the knives of the assailant who was bearing down upon him. More than a few times, Tony had to have combat training with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and top-level instructors. Part of being an Ultimate was knowing how to, in the vernacular, kick a guy's ass up and down the sidewalk. Grunting, Stark snagged the man's wrists and twisted them, snapping some of the mechanical components of his device.
"While I've got you here..." Stark said, wrestling with the attacker, as the latter tried to free himself.
"Care to tell me why you're trying to kill me?"
"No." The man snarled, delivering a swift knee to Stark's gut. As Stark doubled over, the man made and advance, and swiftly buried a knife into Stark's shoulder.
"You'll learn soon enough for yourself, don't worry." He said through gritted teeth.
"Everything's connected."
Stark staggered backwards. He felt his pulse slam angrily against the blade of the knife. He gripped the handle, breathed deep, and heaved it out of his arm. Tossing it aside, he stared down his opponent. The pair didn't know who should strike first.
Wheeling around in the moment of calm, Stark slammed on a button on a panel on his desk, and an automated chime rang through the sub-basement of the Triskelion, signaling that Stark's assistant had been notified of a security breach.
Stark twisted back to face the man, now wielding a single knife at the intrepid industrialist. Seizing his chance, the assailant lunged forward, leading with the arm which held his weapon. Blocking the blow with his forearm, Tony was able to deliver a hard right-hand blow to the goon's chin. He took his chance and, following his training at the hands of some of the most advanced martial artists in the world, delivered a swift knee to the man's stomach, followed by an elbow jammed into his throat. Stark spun, sending a backhand across the man's face.
The man, undeterred from the advancing attacks of Tony Stark, sent himself forward again, burying his knife into Stark's side. He twisted it with a sadistic grin on his face.
"Smile, you son of a *****." He spat, as blood trickled from the side of his mouth.
He fired his palm into Stark's jaw, wrenching the knife free and sending Tony careening back into his desk. With some sort of perverse pleasure, the man watched as Tony struggled to push his hunched frame up from his desk.
"Sorry, pal..." Stark muttered, through coughs and sputters of blood, as he opened a desk drawer and reached inside.
"But, you just brought a knife to a gun fight."
Stark withdrew a Colt .45 from his desk and turned slowly. Something had taken the gunman by surprise, as he now wore a relatively perplexed look on his face.
"You won't do it."
"You don't know who you're dealing with." Tony said, bearing the gun down upon the man in his laboratory.
"Of course I do." The attacker said, flipping the knife in his hand.
"Who do you think the leak inside of your company is?"
Tony's eyes narrowed. He had been played. The man in front of him was clearly a plant by Norman Osborn. Someone who could be used as an ace-in-the-hole by the maniacal madman whenever the game of "Ultimates vs. Thunderbolts" proved too boring. Sending a man to kill his adversary by means of a sneak attack, though? That was low; even for pond-scum like Norman Osborn.
BLAM.
Stark had pulled the trigger.
"Was." He corrected curtly.
The assassin's body slumped to the ground, dead from a shot to the torso. Stark tossed the gun onto his desk and glanced upwards. The doors to his lab were open, and Pepper Potts was making her way down the stairs.
"Ah." The billionaire muttered absently, nursing his wounded shoulder.
"Glad you finally made it."
Pepper made her way to the gun on her employer's desk and picked it up, examining it in her hands. Her eyes shifted to Stark who was too busy with his shoulder and side to notice what she was doing.
BLAM.
Tony looked up, straight ahead at first. Then down to his side, where a pool of blood had slowly begun forming.
"Yes. Yes, I made it." Pepper told Stark aloud, disregarding the confused look on his face.
"Unfortunately, I have to leave right away. Surely security will be on their way.'"
She tossed the gun to the ground, just out of reach of Stark as he fell to the floor.
"Freeing, isn't it?" She asked, examining the lab around her before glancing back at him.
"That fear that comes before death? Don't worry. It will be over soon, I promise you that."
Pepper placed a hand atop her forehead.
"That was an unexpected move, Stark. Even for you."She said, nodding at the dead hitman, as the tone of her voice changed drastically.
"I didn't know you had it in you to take a man's life."
She gripped the skin on top of her forehead and heaved upwards. Her flesh grew lifeless, her eyes hollow. A white figure was revealed beneath the false flesh, and he cricked his neck eerily. Glancing down at Tony, he showed his gleaming white teeth in a menacing grin.
"But I suppose a man can be expected to do anything when you push the right buttons."
"Don't worry, Mr. Stark." The man said, pulling an image-inducer off of his shoulder, revealing a finely tailored suit,
"Your precious Pepper Potts will be joining you soon enough."
Tony coughed a few times as he tried to speak.
"Shh. Shh, shh, shh. Save your voice." The figure said, kneeling down beside Tony to pick up his gun.
"Or... Let me save it for you."
He planted the barrel of the gun against the billionaire's Adam's apple.
"Au revior, Mr. Stark."
BLAM.
Chameleon flipped the lifeless body of Tony Stark over onto it's stomach with a careless shove with his foot. He turned a few lights on, revealing dozens of prototype armors.
"Like candy from a baby." He said with a snarl.
Tony Stark was dead. Not by way of a tumor, or cancer, but, rather, because of a bullet. Or, more accurately, because of two.