Cave Prison – Afghanistan
After two games of backgammon, Tony set down his dice and glanced at Yinsen. "You know, you've never told me where you're from."
Yinsen picked up his own dice, rolling them between his fingers. "A small town called Gulmira. Beautiful place. Mountains, clear streams." His eyes grew distant. "Very peaceful."
Tony poured water into two tin cups. "Family?"
Yinsen looked up, something shifting in his expression. "Yes. A wife, children. I'm going to see them again. After we escape."
He turned the question around. "What about you? Family waiting for you back home?"
Tony's hand paused mid-pour. His parents gone. Car accident. Howard Stark's legacy had been weapons and expectations, not love. No siblings. No wife. Just Pepper managing his life, Rhodey keeping him grounded, and an empty mansion in Malibu.
"No," Tony said quietly.
"No," Yinsen repeated, studying him. Then, with gentle reproach: "You have everything. But you have nothing."
Tony met his gaze, saw the pity there. Family was everything to Yinsen, the foundation that made life meaningful. Money, genius, fame? Just decorations without that core.
Tony forced a smile. "You know what? Enough philosophy. We've got work to do."
He stood and moved to the pile of parts, picking up his welding torch. The familiar hiss of ignition brought comfort, creation, even in captivity, was still creation.
Outside the cave, boots scuffed against stone. A Ten Rings guard approached the heavy iron door and slid open the observation slot. His eyes swept the interior, noting Tony at the workbench, Yinsen sorting components.
Satisfied, the guard closed the slot and departed.
In the surveillance room deeper in the cave complex, another Ten Rings member held a photograph of a Jericho missile, comparing it to the live feed of Tony's workspace. He frowned.
"Doesn't look like the photo."
His companion shrugged. "Maybe he's modifying it. Making it better."
"The tail section's wrong." The first guard tapped the photo. "It's mounted backward."
Afghan Desert – Five Miles South
Smith Doyle emerged from a cave system, dust coating his clothes. Behind him, the entrance collapsed with a thunderous rumble, smoke and debris billowing outward.
He brushed sand from his sleeve irritably. "Another Ten Rings outpost. Not where Tony's being held."
At least Xu Wenwu wasn't there. That would've complicated things considerably.
Smith's Scouter had detected Wenwu's power signature once in the past.
Over 600, exponentially higher when wearing all ten rings. Fighting him would require the Great Ape transformation, and that brought its own complications. Full moon, lack of control, massive damage.
Better to avoid that confrontation entirely.
Smith launched himself back into the air, resuming his search pattern. The Scouter's display tracked multiple life signs across the desert, scattered camps, patrol routes, civilian settlements. As long as no power level exceeded 600, he had nothing to worry about.
Cave Prison – Two Hours Later
Outside the prison cave, several Ten Rings guards huddled around a fire, warming their hands against the desert night's chill. The temperature had dropped thirty degrees since sunset.
Raza, the scarred commander responsible for Tony Stark's kidnapping, sat apart from his men, watching surveillance footage on a portable monitor. The video showed Tony adjusting some kind of leg mechanism, hydraulics, maybe, though the resolution made details difficult.
Something about Tony's work bothered him. The work was too long, the progress too ambiguous. Time to apply pressure.
Raza stood. "With me. We're inspecting the prisoner's work."
Eight men followed him into the cave system, boots echoing off stone walls. They reached the heavy iron door. Raza nodded. His men pulled it open.
"Put your hands on your heads!" Raza barked in accented English.
Inside, Tony and Yinsen immediately complied, hands interlacing behind their skulls. Fear flickered across Yinsen's face. Tony's expression went carefully blank, the look of a man expecting violence.
Raza entered slowly, his gaze sweeping the cave. Work tools, metal scraps, welding equipment. And there, he walked directly to Tony, reaching out to push aside his shirt collar.
The arc reactor glowed softly against Tony's chest. Raza's fingers brushed its surface, warm, humming with barely perceptible vibration.
"Fascinating," Raza murmured. "You replaced your battery. Impressive."
He stepped back, surveying the workspace. "You know, the bow and arrow was once cutting-edge military technology. Genghis Khan used it to conquer from Korea to Hungary. An empire five times larger than Alexander's, four times the size of Rome's."
Raza moved to the workbench, picking up a schematic drawing. "But today, only those who possess Stark's weapons can rule. And I..." He smiled without warmth. "I intend to rule."
Tony's pulse spiked. That's the armor blueprint. If he recognizes it,
Yinsen caught Tony's tension and subtly shook his head. Stay calm. He doesn't know what he's looking at.
Raza studied the drawing for several seconds, then set it down dismissively. "Why have you disappointed me?"
Yinsen spoke quickly. "We're working. Making progress. These things take time, "
Raza turned on him, eyes cold. "I allowed you to live. This is how you repay my mercy?"
Yinsen spread his hands placatingly. "The missile is complex. He's doing everything he can, "
"Hold him."
Two guards seized Yinsen immediately, forcing him to his knees. Yinsen grunted as his kneecaps hit stone.
Tony's fists clenched. Don't react. Don't give them an excuse. But his eyes tracked to the components on the workbench, the leg servos, the partially assembled gauntlet. Still weeks from operational.
Raza picked up a pair of tongs from the fire pit. The coal gripped between the metal jaws glowed red-hot, radiating heat like a small sun.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Raza asked conversationally. "Do you think I can't tell when I'm being deceived?"
Yinsen's voice remained steady despite the sweat beading on his forehead. "We're working for you. Everything we're doing is for you."
Raza held the glowing coal closer. "Tell me the truth."
Tony stepped forward involuntarily. "What are you doing? What's going on?"
Nobody acknowledged him.
Raza gripped Yinsen's head with his free hand, forcing him to look up. The coal moved within inches of Yinsen's eye. Heat radiated against his skin. He could smell his own eyebrow hairs singeing.
"What is he really building?" Raza demanded. "Tell me the truth."
Yinsen met his gaze without flinching. "The Jericho missile. Exactly what you demanded."
The coal moved closer. Yinsen felt his eyelashes curl and blacken. Death crystallized in his mind.
"Tell me the truth!"
"He's building the Jericho missile you demanded." Yinsen's voice never wavered.
Raza's eyes narrowed. "Last chance."
"The Jericho missile. For you."
Tony couldn't stay silent anymore. "Stop! Whatever deadline you want, I can meet it!"
Immediately, three rifles swung toward him. A guard stepped forward, hand raised. "Don't move!"
Tony froze, arms rising in surrender. His eyes found Raza's. "Any schedule you name, I'll deliver. Just, " He glanced at Yinsen. "He's useful. I need him to finish."
Silence stretched for three heartbeats.
Raza finally lowered the tongs, coal still glowing. "Finish by tomorrow. Sunset."
He dropped the tongs. They clattered against stone. "Get out."
His men released Yinsen, who remained kneeling as the Ten Rings fighters filed out. Raza paused at the doorway, turning back.
"Tomorrow," he repeated. "Or I start removing pieces."
The door slammed shut. The lock engaged with a heavy thud.
Tony immediately moved to Yinsen's side, helping him stand. "Are you okay? Let me see, "
Yinsen waved him off, though his hands trembled slightly. "I'm fine. Just singed."
"That was too close." Tony's voice shook with adrenaline. "If he'd actually, "
"But he didn't." Yinsen managed a weak smile.
Tony looked at the partially constructed armor. "Tomorrow at sunset. We're nowhere close to finished."
"Then we work through the night." Yinsen picked up a welding mask. "Come on. We've got maybe eighteen hours to build a miracle."
Tony nodded slowly. They returned to the workbench, and the hiss of welding torches soon filled the cave once more.
Outside, Raza walked back toward his quarters, satisfied. The prisoners were sufficiently motivated. If they delivered the Jericho by tomorrow, excellent. If not, killing one would ensure the other's cooperation.
Either way, he'd have his weapon soon.