Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to Marvel Comics or Iron Man, or anything else related to this material of which I written about. All rights are reserved by the original owners.

Author's Note: This chapter's been a long time in coming! I must apologize again to all those who have been eagerly awaiting its arrival. Thanks for reading by the way! I've decided to let this things format itself (or however that works) because I'm wondering if it makes for easier reading. Let me know if this formatting is better than the previous two chapters. Enjoy!


Chapter 3 - The Chamber

"How are you feeling?"

"Alright… I guess."

"Are you in much pain?"

Ramirez groaned softly in reply. The doctor had given her sedatives and local anesthetics prior to surgery and she was still groggy after the operation, even though she had slept for a few hours. She had no idea how long the entire process had taken; it was impossible even to discern if it was day or night.

"On a scale of one to ten – one being the least amount of pain and ten being the most – how would you rate the pain you are experiencing?"

She took a moment to consider, "Between a six and seven, I think."

"Fair enough. I'm sorry that I cannot give you any more pain medication for a while. It depends how Stark is doing… his condition is very serious."

"He's ok though, right?" She suddenly remembered the screams he let out during his own operation.

"Yes, at the present he is doing well. Although…" the doctor's voice trailed off and he looked away.

Ramirez glanced around quickly from where she was lying to make sure there was no one else in earshot. They were in the small room that she had been placed in before, but this time there was a light suspended on the wall nearby. The doctor sat on a chair next to the low table that her stretcher lay on. The door of the room was closed, so the guards were probably on the other side. It wasn't like there was any way that either of them could get out.

"They have taken Stark for a video recording."

"What do you mean?" she asked and started to sit up.

"Please! Try not to move; I will help you." He reached across and put an arm around her right shoulder. She clutched his shoulder as he gently pulled her into a sitting position. "The video recording for the ransom message, I suppose. I was assured that he would be seated and that they would be careful with him. He is still in a critical condition and I have given him much medication."

She wondered if they would mention her presence in the recording. "Who are 'they'?"

"A valid question, but I will tell you later. You will be staying in my quarters and I must walk you there. I will put this on your head now." He picked up a shawl that he had laid next to her.

Ramirez wore only a blanket over the top half of her body. Prior to surgery the doctor had helped her remove her uniform – except the pants and boots – and had told her not to expect to get it back. Her undershirts had been blood-soaked; those had been thrown away. She was still wearing her sports bra, but the doctor had to cut the left strap to be able to access the injury. He now draped the shawl over her head and shoulders so that it covered all but her face. It was the tradition of the land, but since she was always in uniform, even when off the base, she hadn't had to worry about it before.

"Are you ready?" he asked after a moment.

"Uh huh," she murmured. Clutching onto the blanket, she stood cautiously and followed the doctor to the door. He rapped twice on the metal door and instantly a bolt slid back. The door opened outward and the guard on the other side looked them over before motioning to another man nearby. Both of them escorted the prisoners down the dark tunnels lit every few feet by lighting mounted on the side of the wall.

Soon they reached another metal door at the end of a hallway and they stopped briefly so that it could be opened by the other guard waiting there. It wasn't until the doctor and Ramirez were inside and the door was secured that she felt the tension ease. The room was very large when compared with the others that she had been in. The high ceiling was illuminated by the dim candlelight and other sparse lighting that had been rigged up. Various pieces of equipment was scattered about the area, on the floor, a broad table, and on a couple shelves.

"This is where you will sleep," the doctor announced as he led her towards a cot which was a little farther from everything else in the room. "I still have to put up a curtain for you, which I will do momentarily." He continued speaking as he searched for the needed materials to make a partition. "You will be pleased to know that many of the rooms are fully ventilated and have the required plumbing installed, as well as electrical wiring. The washroom is over that way, around that bend there, which is also where the wash basin is – that is for both bathing and laundry."

Ramirez looked around silently, taking it all in. The set-up wasn't nearly as primitive as she had previously thought. This cave system was constructed with the idea of long-term living in mind. Even so, it was by no means a comfortable hotel getaway. She sat down on the bed, still feeling drowsy from the sedatives that she had been given earlier.

"What happened during the surgery?" she asked after a little while.

"I wondered when you would ask. You are fortunate to have such good quality uniforms in the military. A bullet went through your left forearm and embedded into your vest. The other bullet went into your shoulder area; that, I had to remove. Both procedures went well, so I expect you to fully recover, though it will take time and careful rehabilitation. You are also very fortunate that both bullets did not enter your chest and damage your heart."

"In America we say that one is 'lucky to be alive' when they survive against the odds."

"You are not the lucky one," the doctor said ominously.

Ramirez stared at him, wishing that she could order him to give her a straight answer. What could have Stark possibly gone through to make him say something like that, she wondered. He finished his search and came back to where she was sitting with a hammer and a large hook. The doctor stood on an empty crate to fix the hook into the cave ceiling, then attached the large curtain, which turned out to be a desert camouflage-patterned tarp. He pulled back a corner and looked in at her when he was finished.

"There, this will give you the necessary privacy…" he paused in mid-sentence. "Stay here and say nothing. If they look at you, do not make eye contact." As he pulled the corner flap back down, Ramirez could hear the bolts of the door sliding back again. Someone was coming in.