As far as Jarvis could account for, they had a severe limitation in terms of support. That was really meant to be Steve's contribution, though. Tony could supply materials and strategy, what to do with the manpower once they had amassed it, but Steve was the man people would rally around. Whatever else he was doing, he had to start making some kind of progress in gathering like-minded individuals with a similar lack of regard for their own well-being.
Put like that, even in his own head, it sounded doubtful. Perhaps knowing that there were weapons at least theoretically available, it would help. Even the hint of a fighting chance might be enough to sway the desperate.
"Two," Jarvis repeated, brows furrowing. There were so many Peacekeepers in Two, orderly lines of faceless, readily-cruel men and women. He shivered in recollection, closing his eyes against a wound that should've lost its ability to sting a long time ago. "I suppose a few more guns in Two wouldn't seem out of place." No one would blink about a few shipments going that direction, and then quietly disappearing.
It was a mistake, glancing toward the television. Jarvis' reaction to Stane was worse than his reaction to Peacekeepers, and he'd never bothered to stop having it because what did it matter? Stane liked to see people crawl, and Jarvis was low enough to the proverbial ground that he was basically slithering on his belly already. "Looks like an official announcement." Listening to it was making him uneasy, which was why he was very carefully studying his knees instead of watching the screen. He could listen perfectly well from this angle.
He needed to vacuum, now that he was looking. That was a lot of lint on the floor.