I think my legs have stopped supporting me, because my dad's grip seems to be awfully tight, and he looks at my back to some place I can't see in much the same way I look at his chest, which is unnerving.

I have to lean against my dad with no hands, as the German man who is with us, who my dad seems to trust, tells us to put our hands above our heads. My arms feel really heavy, and I have no balance, I keel backwards into my dad, but he doesn't fold and helps me stand upright, still keeping his arms above his head. I really want to cry, because this is so not happening to me right now.

Around 15 Afghanistan men stand in front of us, and boy they do not look friendly. But the one that seems to be the leader is smiling in an overly creepy way, the smile a serial killer rapist psycho would give you before killing you or luring a kid into his van for out of date Twinkies. He starts talking in a language I can only assume to be whatever they speak here, I have no clue what he's saying but I can bet you a thousand bucks I won't like it.

Oh hey, he just said something like blah blah blah mumbo jumbo "Mr Tony Stark and Miss Lara Stark." Then back to blah blah. Then he made a gesture at the German guy that turned my dad into the bionic man, as if waiting for him to do something, please may it not be to kill us.

Apparently it was to translate, "He says welcome Tony and Lara Stark, the most famous mass murderers in the history of America." What?! Ok, that's not, not anything. I don't even know how to understand what he's just said. And I can't move my neck so I can't ask Dad what to do with this either.

The leader starts talking again, shorter this time, then the friendly German translated. "He is honoured." Well great but me and my Dad are not mass murderers and yeah I'd really like to go now. But know, he started jabbering on again.

"He wants you to build them the Jericho missile that you demonstrated."

The leader says something again and wafts around a dirty scrap of paper, and then hands it to the German. "This one." The German says quietly, I dart my eyes to the black and white photograph of our newest Jericho missile, one which I spent a week of my spring vacation helping to sketch, plan and build with my dad, one of the most deadly.

Something which I was once proud of, now, I'm kinda scared of myself, on top of everything else I'm scared of in this present situation. I chant 'crap, crap, crap' as quietly as I can to stop myself from completely breaking down.

"I refuse." My dad said when utter chaos, or something close to it, went down, he was grabbed right from behind me but I managed to balance, and dragged shouting over to a deep bucket of water, "Daddy!" I screamed out, but it came out more like a strangled cat shriek, but that was it, I couldn't seem to stop so I had to just keep screaming, before a guard with perfect dark skin, dark eyes and a smooth bald head grabbed me from behind, which was good because I think I was about to fall anyway, and clamped his hand down over my mouth, which wasn't so great because I mean, ew germs, but I still didn't stop shrieking for my Daddy.

Then another rough sack was thrown over my head and I was dragged away. The sack is pulled off my head and after I shake my hair back off my ace, I have to blink a lot to get used to the blisteringly bright sunlight.

We're stood on a ridge, and the dark place I've been for I don't know how long is actually a real life desert cave. Below us is a camp with random men lurking around.

My dad is clutching a box that has a wire leading to his…. Thing. I wonder why I don't have one if the same thing's been done to me? But I don't know, it's not like I can see my back, so I could have anything on there. I get pushed to go down the hill to the camp and managed to run forward and catch up with my dad. He grips my elbow tight as we walk down the path "Don't say anything, let me handle it." He whispered to me. I nodded, biting my lip.

We are led by the men and the leader of them to a small shelter, underneath the cloth over the top in boxes and boxes of Stark Industries stamped boxes. "He asks what you think." The man interprets, the leader smiles proudly.

"I think you have a lot of my weapons." My dad said evenly.

The leader rants in his own language.

"He said they have everything you need to build the Jericho missile." German translated "He wants you to make a list of the materials you need."

The leader says something else. "He says you are to stark work immediately, and when you are done, he will set you both free."

Oh my God, so we're trapped here in this hell making weapons for terrorists and we can't leave.

My dad shook his hand. I knew it was coming, what else was there for him to do?

….

"They will be looking for you, but they won't find you here. This here is your legacy. Your life's work in the hands of those murderers? Is this how you're going to go out? Is this the last act of defiance from the great Starks?!" It was dark and cold in the cave at night, and we were sat round a fire. The German was trying to get my dad to, I don't know, do something. But that was the first time someone hasn't either dismissed me completely or compared me to my dad, now we're equals, in this squalid cave. I look at the piece of metal in his chest. An electromagnet attached to a car battery, keeping shrapnel out of his heart. I haven't looked at my back, something tells me I don't want too, but I'm naturally curious. There's no bathroom here as far as I can tell, and the tiny rusty mirror can just about fit my nose into it.

"I shouldn't do anything about it, they're going to kill me, you and Lara either way, and if they don't we'll be dead in a week."

"Well this is a very important week for you both isn't it?" He asked. My dad looked up at me over the fire.

….The Next Day…

"If this is going to be our work station it needs to be well lit. I want helmets, goggles, soldering irons, Precision cutters. Lara, anything else?" My dad yelled, it was busy and the German I could now call a friend was translating everything

"We have no Jarvis this time, so we'll need pencils rulers, paper and tracing paper to plan, lots of space, a heat source." I say. I feel like I could do something now, try and save myself.

…Next day…..

The work station was complete within a day, and we started working this morning getting everything ready, I drew up a plan for the Jericho rocket from memory roughly. What else I drew out of the view of the cameras was completely irrelevant, stupid, reckless and just what we needed. The small corner invisible to the cameras was where I sat now. "Hey, Dad, can you take a look at something for a sec?" I asked

"Yeah sure." He wandered over and looked at my detailed, careful drawing, each part on a piece of tracing paper that when place over each other would reveal. "It'll do the job." I said.

He nodded. "It's perfect." He said.

He pulled one of the earlier rockets, ones that had basically the same parts as the Jericho, but a few special ones we needed for our, er… real project.

…..

The missile lies on the table as I take apart the outer casing from one end, and my dad takes out the inside circuits, explosives and stuff from the other end. "Who are these people?" I ask, looking at the security camera's red light. "These people are your loyal customers." The german said. "They call themselves the Ten Rings."

"Cool." I said, and went back to work with my screwdriver.

My dad calls me over to help with the insides of the rocket, pulling out the core, then taking it apart.

"The process might be more productive if you included me in your planning process." Me and my dad both stare at him. No way. He's nice and he saved our lives and all, but this is my invention.

"Move." I said to my dad, I take a pair of tweezers and carefully pull free the piece we need. "Don't need this." I said, throwing the rest of the useless core behind me.

"What is that?" the German, who I was starting to doubt even was German, asked

"Palladium, 0.5 grams. We need at least 1.6, so why don't you both go break down the other 11?" I asked them, or told them, both

"Are you sure about that? Because the B in your calculus midterm suggests you may be mistaken." My dad's eyes glitter wickedly. I purse my lips.

"I'm sure, ok? How did you know about the midterm?"

"Potts told me."

"I didn't tell Potts about it."

"I know, your principal did."

"Crap. Well, anyway, I'm right, so go away and get me my 1.6 grams of palladium."

For the next day and a half, they both get the 1.6 grams, make a mould and melt it down. As the mystery man helping us carries the melted palladium in a metal pot, in a pair of pincers to the mould. I followed him anxiously, as did my dad.

"Be careful, we only have one shot." I said

"Don't worry I have steady hands." He said, gently pouring the molten metal into the mould delicately.

"What do they call you?" My dad asked

"My name is Yinsen." Well, Yinsen said.

"Nice to meet you." Me and dad both said in unison

…..

My dad soldered and welded and melted for days and days, before finally he flipped a switch and the creation that would hopefully save us all glowed bright blue with power.

"That doesn't look like a Jericho Missile." Yinsen said

"That's because it's a miniaturised ARC reactor." Dad said. Just like my plan. We needed to move fast, nearly a month had passed since the day of the ambush. "I have a big one powering my factory at home. It should keep the shrapnel out of my heart."

"That's incredible, what could it generate?" Yinsen asked, I answered

"3 gigajoules, if my math is right." My dad gave me a look "Which it always is."

"That could power the magnet for over 50 lifetimes!" Yinsen said

"Or something big for 15 minutes." I said, I was going to include Yinsen because desperate times called for desperate measures.

My dad led him over to the small table where my delicate, detailed planning paper lay. He placed it all down. "what is it?" Yinsen asked

"Our ticket out of here." I said, pressing down the paper to show him the full suit.

"Impressive." He said

"I know."

…..

The ARC reactor was now in place and seemed to be working. My dad and Yinsen now say playing a board game. I was stood up trying to turn my neck to look at the electro magnet in my back, and more importantly its power source. If my dad's needed to be replaced, what about mine?

"Lara, for the last time, you are not an owl." He called over

"Well sorry for wanting to know what's keeping me from paralysis!" I snapped back. I hated everyone today. He rolled his eyes

"Feel it." Yinsen said. I bit my lip and started off at the base of my spine. I ran my hand over scratched skin, scabs and then my eyes started to water as the felt a flap of flesh, then metal that hummed with electricity, then another flap of open skin then more back. I carried on up the smooth metal as far as I could go, before I had to go over my shoulder, the skin that had been slit for the metal came to a close at the base of my neck, the metal travelled on for a few more millimetres under the skin and did the same at the bottom. I whirl round to find both Yinsen and my dad watching me. Expressions blank "I'm a robot!" I gawp at them

My dad raises an eyebrow before returning to the game, Yinsen sheepishly follows him. "So, you have a family?" my dad asked

"Yes. I will be seeing them soon." I resist the urge to snort, because a big swell of sadness is creeping up my stomach

"Do you? A wife, more children?" Yinsen asks, I snort and look at my dad.

"My Mom has been dead for over 16 years." I said.

"So you're people who have everything, and nothing." It was a statement, not a question. I watch my dad's reaction slowly, he pulls a half smile. Hmm, well if he'd only just stop being such a playboy and actually admit he liked Potts. And she'd admit she liked him.

….One Month Later….

We had welded and created all the internal mechanics, right now I was at the welding station welding a joint of the arm. As the heat blazed from the tool and the goggles steamed up slightly, I wished for a shower, my hair was the most vile and disgusting mess I had ever seen, I put it in a tight braid one week after we arrived, but it still felt horrible, I change of clothes which included underwear. Since it was hot in the cave when the welder and the fire were being used, I had maintained that I was too hot, so ripping bits of my clothes was completely justified, and I prayed to the good lord baby Jesus that none of them knew what I was actually doing with the strips of cloth, one thing to remember; girls do not make good kidnap victims over a one month period, shit gets messy.

My dad was sat on the side of the bench with the leg piece on, testing the joint, it looked amazing.

There were bangs from outside . This wasn't a food delivery, they were usually quick and quiet, hunks of bread, rice and beans flung through the door.

Dad pulled off the leg armour and we hid everything hastily as about 30 men burst through the door with guns, one man came through the centre, the bald one who had dragged me to see the weapons stash nearly two months ago.

It would be nice to say I severely disliked him.

I flung my hands in the air, very aware of the face that my now ripped off t shirt was exposing rather a lot of midriff. But I think I prefer flashing a bit of bellybutton than getting shot at. "Relax." The bald man said in english

I put my arms down slowly, and I got goose bumps on my neck from the way he looked me up and down, like seriously, gross dude.

He walked over to my dad and pulled down his shirt to reveal the ARC reactor. "The bow and arrow was once the pinnacle of weapons technology. It allowed the great Genghis Khan to rule from the pacific to Ukraine." He walked over to a work bench and moseyed around the things on there; I panicked and tried to remember where everything had been hidden. "An empire twice the size of Alexander the Great's and four times the size of the Roman Empire." He walked to another bench

No. I though desperately, the plans were still on there! My dad looked at me as he picked them up, I bit my lip and shook my head in dismay, hands clenched into fists. I was so stupid.

"But now, whoever owns the latest Stark technology rules these lands, and soon, it will be my turn." He turned around to face us. He put the plans back on the table, a little ray of hope that he hadn't pressed the papers together to see the full suit still remained.