The terrain was now rough, sand replaced with rock and dirt. The tyres were no longer sinking into the ground but instead rumbling in distress. The further they drove, the more life seemed to return to the landscape, shrubs and trees starting to be a more common sight. The sun never left them, not a single cloud to veil the blazing ball of gas. Never did it sympathise for their cause.
Steve checked over his shoulder, observing his friends in the back. Tony's head hung, chin against his chest; his eyes closed, head lolling from side to side. Sitting in front of Tony, Bruce also battled to stay awake. Steve was not sure when they would next get a chance to rest, so said nothing. With Clint monitoring Tony, there was no harm in them both taking a break.
"Steve." Natasha asked for his attention. He turned back, facing forward again.
Rising over the horizon, along with some hills, was what appeared to be a village in the haze of heat. Crude but established.
"Up ahead" Steve then chimed, alluding Clint to a possible issue.
Clint took his bow in hand, standing to look over the cabin of the truck.
"We should go around." Clint suggested. The vehicle had slowed but not stopped.
"No." Steve so eloquently put.
"We're low on fuel." Natasha informed Clint, giving justification to Steve's response.
"Could be walking straight into another fight."
"We're just going to have to take that chance. We need to try and lay low before nightfall." Steve properly responded. He knew it was a risk, it was a risk they had to take. With fuel low and injured allies, there was no way they would be able to trek across the landscape, even under the cover of night. As the village got closer it became more pronounced, the heat rising off the ground no longer masking it. For a few minutes all that could be heard was the rattling of metal and the grumbling of the thirsty engine.
"Wake them up." Natasha asked Clint, referring of course to Bruce and Tony.
"Rise and shine." Clint shook the shoulder of Bruce, his head jolting up. "Easy." Clint was crouched at his side, he attempted to settle the scientist.
"What?" Bruce asked right away, pupils being cast around before settling on Clint.
"Coming up on a village." Clint caught the man up to speed, moving over to Tony.
"Village?" Bruce mumbled, looking for himself at the buildings ahead.
"Stark?" Clint placed a hand on his friends' shoulder.
No response.
He rocked the man carefully from side to side, head rolling from left to right.
"Tony?" Clint put two fingers to an artery in Tony's neck.
Everyone picked up on the concerned tone, even Natasha looked back, the road ahead clear. "I've got a pulse." Clint confirmed, allowing the others to breath. Bruce moved up on the other side of Tony.
"His breathing is steady." Bruce noticed, allowing his own heart rate to settle. The arc reactor in Tony's chest was still clinging to life, the others theorising Tony's injuries were most likely due to his sudden unresponsiveness.
Approaching one of the villages many entrances, there was no one in sight. Windows shut; doors closed. Natasha brought the pickup to a stop. Slight breeze drifting through the bullet-stricken front windshield. Steve and Natasha looked at each other before then simultaneously exiting the vehicle. They kept their eyes forward, backing up to their friends.
"Watch your backs and stay with Tony." Steve commanded.
"Hello?" Natasha called out; her gun was holstered, ready if necessary.
"We're seeking help." Steve then spoke up. One by one faces appeared, doors creaking open as men emerged draped in rugged robes.
"The Avengers?" One man asked in broken English, stepping from one of the huts.
"You know of us?" Steve continued the conversation.
The man nodded, agreeing with the others that had joined him on the outskirts of the small village.
"We need shelter, medical supplies." Natasha began the negotiation. Even though she had seen no weapons at this point and their demeanour was clearly not one of violence, Natasha was still prepared for things to turn.
A discussion passed between the group of men; their voices were hushed even though they spoke their native language. Some men seemed to protest, offering only angry glares.
The original villager that had first spoke attempted to settle the group, preventing the debate from becoming more heated. Natasha gave Steve an unsure look, one he decided not to act on. The group adjourned facing the Avengers once more. Again, the same man addressed the Captain, gesturing to one of the houses.
"Come." He continued to point where he wanted them to go. The man looked past Steve and Natasha, to the others in the back of the truck, persisting they all follow.
"Natasha, you go ahead with Barton. Banner, help me with Stark." Steve debriefed, teaming them up accordingly. Natasha made no comment simply agreeing with muteness. With the man still pointing to the agreed building, Steve moved to the back of the pickup where Clint dismounted.
Bruce shifted Tony towards the Captain, being as merciful as he could. To spare his wound, Steve took him in his arms cradling the unconsciousness man. Tony's head resting on his shoulder, arms crossed in his own lap.
The room was uncomfortably bare, the signs of extreme poverty upsetting. The stone crafted hut had a just a couple of mattresses strewn across the dirt floor, clothes piled in a single corner. Two chairs sat lonely in the centre of the room, between them a hotplate used to cook the owner's infrequent meals. It was gloomy in the hut, the Avengers able to see each other thanks to the single window and cracks in the wooden door. The sun was relentless in its efforts to breach the small confined space.
"Here." The man guided Steve's focus to one of the thin mattresses. In the small space Steve shuffled around on the dirt floor, aided by their new friend in lowering Tony down safely.
"Careful." Steve could not help giving a warning as the man helped settle his unconscious friend. The stranger's hand made a move for Tony's wound, slick, glossy blood visible through the black fabric. Steve watched him hesitate, looking up at him for permission. Steve instead lifted the corner of Tony's top for him, basically peeling back the soaked fabric. The strap that had been fastened around the wound was still in place, the strap however having now become saturated with blood.
The man then looked to the light in Tony's chest, weather curiosity or medical concern what brought him to investigate, unknown. He pointed to the arc reactor the blue light visually hummed back.
"It's a long story." Steve told him, finding a quick mutual connection with the stranger.
"Someone's coming." Natasha forewarned, having leaned herself against the window to spot such an approach. The knock at the door now expected.
The stranger called to the person on the other side, having granted them access they entered. A woman with her head garbed in a scarf pushed open the door, a green satchel bearing a black plus sign in hand. The bag even on first glance was clearly American made; a unit number embroidered on the flap. The villager beckoned her over, calmly speaking to her as she offered the supplies to the Captain.
"Bruce." Steve summoned the scientist over; he was quick to respond meeting him at Tony's side. The stranger in front of them on the adjacent side. Bruce rummaged through the satchel once handed to him.
"Think you can stitch him up?" Clint asked from behind.
"I'm not a medical doctor…" Bruce replied, trying not to succumb to pressure as he pulled what he needed from the bag.
"Do your best." Steve offered him words of comfort, a hand on his shoulder letting him know it was OK.
Even though the supplies had been clearly used previously, sealed packaging opened, bottles half full, it appeared to be enough.
"Put on some gloves." Bruce handed Steve the thankfully sealed packet of blue gloves, then pulled on a pair himself.
Steve removed his own gloves, then taking the shield from his back, putting it to the side. He inhaled deeply through his nose, reading himself mentally for the procedure. The stranger watched on, a steady hand on Tony's shoulder when the genius shuddered slightly. Steve sympathetically watched Bruce struggled to thread the needle, the scientist's hands understandably trembling. The Captain made no comment, waiting patiently.
Steve did exactly as Bruce asked, down to the letter. His main task involved wiping blood clear from the wound, giving Bruce a clear view of the skin. The wound itself appeared to go in a few inches. For what it was worth, the armour had done well to protect Tony.
It was determined the bleeding was coming from a nicked artery, one Bruce would have to find and seal.
With his bow leaning against the wall Clint watched from a distance, arms crossed nervously, pacing every now and then.
"Scissors." Bruce asked. Steve presenting them as requested. Bruce snipped the thread having skilfully pulled the artery back together, the profuse bleeding having been brought to a controllable level. Plunging the needle once again caused Tony to flinch. Bruce did not even need to ask, both Steve and the stranger braced Tony against the mattress.
Bruce tried not to rush the final sutures, at this point just wanting it all to be done with. The final task was to wrap the wound tightly, with grunts of protest from Tony, a positive sign the genius was on the brink of consciousness. Bruce pulled his gloves off from the wrist, turning them inside out, prompting Steve to do the same. Cloths stained with Tony's blood and a mess of sterilising equipment besieged them.
Time passed and the stranger eventually left, leaving the team alone. Bruce sat with his back to the wall, two fingers on Tony's wrist as he checked his pulse periodically. The sun was at least finally starting its decent.
"What now Cap?" Clint broke through the silence.
"Nothing's changed, we make our move as soon as its dark."
The atmosphere amongst the Avengers was distasteful, an upset among the ranks. Waiting for the sun to concede to the moon was as painful as waiting for Tony to wake up. With the fading light the arc rector in Tony's chest seemed to glow brighter, it was nothing more than a cruel trick, the sun's final efforts to torment the group.
"And go where, we could drive for miles and miss the outpost without even knowing." Clint decided to challenge.
Steve stood from the wooden chair he had been sat in, turning to face his teammate.
"We were due to arrive hours ago; they will be looking for us." Steve kept a level head.
"I thought we were the Avengers, give it a few more hours and someone's going to need to avenge us." Clint was not specifically angry at Steve; this the Captain was able to figure.
"We can do no more other than our best, and if standing around is our best - so be it." Steve could tell he was overwhelmed with the feeling of helplessness, his words trying to comfort him through the undesirable situation, not to scold him for simply being human. Clint pushed himself off the wall, about to continue to misdirect his frustration when a commotion outside interrupted them.
"This isn't good." Natasha was still at her post by the window. She took her gun in hand. Steve grabbed his shield, both him and Clint finding their way to the window.
Heavily reinforced vehicles had rolled in, not something commonly seen being used by the Taliban or allied forces. The headlights of the cars were like spotlights, fragments of the area being bleached in white light.
"A.I.M?" Steve queried for useful information.
"Looks like it." Natasha kept her voice low now.
Steve watched in disbelief as the man that had helped them, given them shelter, was pulled to the centre of the village on his knees. Woman's cries and shouts could be heard all around as those armoured in black stormed the village, each carry a weapon of heavy duty.
"Banner, we're going to need the Hulk." Steve looked over to Bruce.
"He'll rip this place apart!" Bruce exclaimed, having to quieten his own voice mid-sentence.
"Bruce we…" The single shot of gunfire interrupted him. Steve's head snapped around, looking back out the window. The sun had set behind the mountains leaving a red glow in half the sky.
The villager lay dead in the dirt, having been fatally shot. Even from the distance Steve could see the whites of the dead man's eyes. A woman's desperate sorrow full screams were all too much.
It came unexpected, a canister breaching the roof. Grey smoke engulfed the room in seconds. Those by the window had a few seconds extra of fresh air, allowing them to slap their hands over their mouths and noses. Bruce dropped like a stone next to Tony. Steve lead the charge out the door shield up, the others chocking and coughing behind as they breached into the open. Steve's eyes burned as his vision attempted to focus. He stood his ground, his friends behind him and his shield.
They were surrounded, a solid group of twenty troops aiming their armed rifles. Smoke still spilled from the building behind them.
"Ready?" Steve asked his remaining team.
"Always." Clint skilfully locked his second arrow into his bow, the string flicking it straight into one of the beaming headlights, causing a blinding flash momentary. The abrupt sound of shattering glass accompanying the flash.
Natasha took off running at their foes, three shots, took down three targets. She launched herself at another once close enough, wrapping her legs around his neck before bringing him to the ground and springing back up onto her feet. A careless pointing of her gun at her side brought the man's life to an end.
Steve launched his shield, knocking some down like dominoes before the loyal metal returned to him, having allowed him to cover some distance. Using the shield as an extension of his arm Steve punched someone in the chest, sending him flying into two others, all three crashing against one of the vehicles.
Clint used his last arrow to shoot out another headlight, giving them another disruption to get an upper hand. Even though it also blinded the Avengers momentarily, it still helped balance the odds. They had the numbers against them and controlling the environment on command gave them a chance.
Natasha whipped the butt of her empty gun around, smashing it into the covered face of another attacker. There had been no sound of gunfire other than her own, this she did not have time to contemplate.
"Urh!" Clint growled, Natasha turning in time to see him fall face first to the ground. A pinch in her arm suddenly made her world spin, Steve watched her too hit the ground.
Steve refusing to give in, refusing to give up, battled on. Shield now remaining up defensively. Those in front of him still standing, made no move against him. A sharp sting from behind caught him by surprise. With his free hand he reached round pulling a dart from his back. His legs where the first to go numb, his shield for the first time becoming heavy on his arm. His legs gave out unwillingly, the headlights remaining seeming to intensify.
"Hit him again!" He was sure he heard someone order. Another much duller pinch and his face met the floor, lights blurring into a blackness.