[center][img]http://s29.postimg.org/6xz582dif/RTJDanny_copy.png[/img][/center]

[center][i]"Bosses don't change a thing in the name of seemingly making it,
Servants'll kiss the ring of whoever they think is paying 'em,
You don't deserve the spit that they hurdled up in your face and shit."[/i] - Killer Mike[/center]


[b]Rand Industries
Manhattan[/b]

Erected in the center of Danny Rand’s office was a wooden sparring dummy that Danny circled with intent. His blonde hair had turned near brown with sweat and the light bounced off his bare chest as he bobbed and weaved around the dummy’s arms. His limbs were still weary but spending the night with Misty had put a bounce back into his step. He had slept even better than he had imagined. For the first time since he’d arrived back in New York his night had not been beset with nightmares. Even with that Danny knew he couldn’t afford to rest on his laurels. In his line of work there was always some threat waiting around the corner for him. The life of an Iron Fist was a life of pain. He knew that the moment he plunged his fists into Shou-Lao the Undying and the past eighteen months had only confirmed it. 

To be an Iron Fist was to be hunted and Danny had to be prepared for the next predator that came for him.

“Someone seems chipper this morning,” came a voice from behind Rand. “You slept well, I take it?”

Danny’s head spun round and there stood at the mouth of Danny’s office was Wesley Phillips. He was immaculately turned out in a navy pinstriped suit and a light blue shirt underneath. The burgundy tie that kept held his outfit together was the same shade as the burgundy leather shoes on his feet. His hands were knotted behind his back and he smiled at Danny playfully as he awaited his response.

“How did you get in here?”

Wesley shrugged his shoulders and reached into his suit jacket and produced a document. “I would have thought you’d be more concerned with these.”

Danny reached for a towel draped over one of the arms of wooden dummy and mopped his sweaty brow clean. Once he was done he took the document from Phillips and skimmed over it. It was a prospective contract that would outsource forty-five billion dollars worth of research and development out to Rand Industries over the course of the next eight years. Danny’s eyes widened as he saw the sum and he looked up at Wesley with shock.

“It’s been less than twelve hours.”

Again Wesley shrugged his shoulders.

“What can I say? Diane must have taken more of a shine to you than she let on. When I got to work this morning I found it waiting for me in my inbox. I am lead to believe there may be more in the pipeline over the coming months provided you continue to demonstrate your commitment to Rand Industries over all else. I'm afraid that will mean no more unannounced trips to the Bahamas.”

Danny nodded in agreement and pulled on a yellow t-shirt.

“What happens now?”

“You go to the press,” Wesley said as he perched on the edge of Danny’s desk. “Tell them that the prince over the water has returned to lead Rand Industries back to the Promised Land and then sit back and watch whilst your share price skyrockets.”

A reluctant smile appeared on Danny’s face as he glanced over the document again. Between Phillips and Gërdec nearly fifty billion dollars had been magicked up in less than twelve hours. It wouldn’t be any near enough to keep Rand Industries afloat on its own but if Wesley’s word proved to be good again there would be more coming. It was a huge step towards safeguarding everything his father had built.

“I’m impressed, Wesley.”

Phillips ran a hand through his thick beard and then gestured up at the television screen at the opposite end of the office.

“You ought to be thanking old Tommy Drayton. There’s no way these things get pushed through with so little scrutiny if not for that mess in Harlem. As it stands everyone in this town is too busy checking under their cars to notice what’s right in front of their faces. Between that and the Alderman case there’s a killing to be made over the next week if we play this correctly.”

Danny nodded. 

“Never waste a crisis.”

An appreciative smile appeared on Wesley’s face and he patted Danny on the back. “You’re not as wet behind the ears as Jeryn made out, Mr. Rand.”

Wesley stood up and ambled towards the window of Danny's office. It was one of the tallest buildings in New York and Danny had made sure that his office had the best view of the New York skyline. He could see the Baxter Building and Stark Tower from his desk. He wasn't made for desk work but on those occasions that he was in the office being able to catch a glimpse of the Human Torch blazing across the sky made it more bearable. It was a reminder of who he [i]really[/i] was and what he'd put on this Earth to do. Once things had calmed down at Rand Industries he could finally go back to doing it.

"So what's say we start discussing my salary?" Wesley smirked as he surveyed the skyline. "How does eight million dollars a year sound?"