Tony's POV

It had been almost seven hours since Tony left the states in search for Natasha. As time went on and he passed through different time zones, later and later. At this point, by the time he got there it would be well into the night. He was just starting Mockingjay Part 2 when FRIDAY announced that he had entered Russian airspace.

"How much longer before I get to the cottage, FRIDAY?" Tony asked.

"About four hours and fifteen minutes, Sir."

"Okay, so after this movie we'll be like two hours out. I'll help you find the place afterwards."

The movie seemed to end faster than the first three. It was as if time itself knew that times were desperate and made the two hours and twenty minutes go by more quickly. Tony flew past the darkened streets and buildings that were solely illuminated by light posts, and the lights shining through the windows. The light bounced off the snow on the ground creating a mystical effect over the vast country. Even Tony couldn't help to be distracted by the country's beauty. He quickly shook off his awe. Guess I need to come back and visit some time.

Roads and houses eventually traded themselves in for vast boreal forests filled with pine and spruce trees. The forest seemed to be endless. Every so often a small village would interrupt the wood. Tony was tempted to stop in one for the night, but he didn't want to get off schedule. The snow began to fall harder than before. It clouded the suit's vision, making it hard to see anything more than a few yards ahead. This forced Tony to fully rely on the GPS to guide him to the house. It also made it easier for him to pass over it and get lost in the Siberian wilderness.

"Sir you are within a ten mile radius of the cottage."

"Thanks FRIDAY."

It took about four minutes until he saw that he had arrived at the location point evidenced by the GPS. And the late update by FRIDAY. Tony flew closer to the ground to make sure his landing spot wasn't the actual cottage. By the satellite evidence, the place wouldn't be able to take anymore weight on the rotting roof. He circled the area a few times before finally setting sights on the place. It looked worse in person. The roof was collapsing under the weight of the snow piled on top of it. The wood was covered in mold spores, and the stone was cracking due to the weight it was carrying. Most of the windows were either cracked or shattered. It looked abandoned. I really hope this is one of her bazillion safehouses. Cause this is a real downgrade. And I may have just flown out here for nothing.

"FRIDAY, check for heat signatures inside," Tony said, landing in the snow.

"I found one heat signature inside, but the body temperature is lower than normal."

"Are they alive?" Tony cautiously approached the house, getting more nervous with each step he took. What she's hypothermic. Starving. Dead. It's so quiet out here. Besides the wind.

"Yes. Sir I advise that you don't enter with your suit on. The weight can't be sustained by the floorboards of the cottage, for they are elevated from the ground which could lead you to fall through into the cellar."

"Um, I hope you realize I only have two layers of t-shirts, some jeans, and a pair of sneakers right. None of that is going to keep me warm."

"You have exactly twenty-three minutes until you become severely hypothermic in the current outfit you have on now."

"Not helping," he muttered.

"You should've brought a coat then."

"Thanks I didn't realize that," Tony said sarcastically, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "Let me out of the suit then."

The suit opened allowing him to step out into the cold and snow. Natasha you are so not going to hear the end of this if I freeze to death. He trudged through the snow, up to the door and prepared to knock, but the wind just blew the door open allowing him to step inside. The cottage's temperature was practically the same as the one outside, dousing Tony's hopes of a slightly warmer space. Why can I still see my breath when I'm in the actual place. Tony looked around the entryway of the cottage. Inside there was small a kitchen on his left that looked like it hadn't be used in years. There was a little table with two chairs in the kitchen covered in dust and rust. On his right there was a raggedy vintage sofa in between two doors. He entered the first door to find a bathroom swarming with cockroaches. He quickly slammed the door. That's a serious health code violation.

He opened the other door to find a small bedroom. There was a metal barred bed with an old, smelly mattress on it. A bed table was next to the bed with an old picture frame. Naturally, Tony picked it up to take a look it at out of curiosity. It was a close up of a young couple on their wedding day. The groom had red hair and piercing blue eyes. An array of freckles was splayed across his nose. His bride also had red hair, but her eyes were green. She was giving him a playful kiss on his cheek. At first Tony didn't think anything of it. Naturally, he assumed that the house used to be theirs a long time ago. The bride seemed eerily familiar to him. The red hair and the green eyes. Then something clicked in Tony's mind. He knew those eyes anywhere. He almost dropped the picture in surprise. Natasha.

"I guess you like the photo," a sultry voice said.

Tony put the picture down and turned around, so he could locate the source of the voice. He found a woman standing in the corner. She was blanketed in shadow, masking most of her features besides her silhouette. A silver glint rested on her hip. Great she has a knife. She walked towards Stark who menacingly held out his hand as a warning to summon his suit.

"Yeah, first of all I, um, need you to stay where you are," Tony said warily. I'm starting to think this is a setup. And this woman could kill me. "Second of all you're not Natasha. Third thing, yeah, it is a nice picture. Red owes me an explanation. And last thing, you have about ten seconds to explain yourself before things get ugly."

"Your suit's not coming," she sneered.

"That's what you think," he muttered under his breath. "C'mon. Hurry up FRIDAY."

The woman held up her fingers. Every moment, one went down as she mouthed the names of numbers. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Tony heard an explosion from outside.

The familiar colors of fire and smoke were all that he could see outside of the shattered window pane.

"You just blew up my suit," Tony gaped. Oh shit, I'm screwed. Well FRIDAY can tell Pepper now.

"Technically, they blew up your suit."

Two more people entered the room. They were smaller than the woman, child sized really, but Tony deduced that they were most likely just as deadly. Yeah, I'm definitely screwed at this point.

"Who are you people?"

"Some friends of Natasha's," said the woman from the corner.

"Natasha sent me quite the welcoming party," Tony said sarcastically.

"She didn't send us," the woman assured him. "We came by ourselves. Who do you think responded to your little search online, hmm?"

"What do you want?"

"You."

One of the smaller people threw a punch at him, which he quickly dodged. He wasn't so lucky the second time. The hit knocked him to the ground, allowing the older woman to pin him to the ground. She held his arm behind his back, sending a coursing pain through his right side.

"Nighty, night, Stark."

Tony felt the sadly common feeling of a prick in his neck from a needle. He knew that darkness was about to follow. No one at the moment knew where he was. And he had no idea where he was going. He was officially off the clock at the moment in the UN's eyes. Their resources weren't going to be burned through to save his sorry, disobedient ass. Right now he needed to focus on himself in this situation and not Ross and the UN. His body was becoming number and number as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He could feel a heavy weight on his back and cold metal around his wrists. Then he blacked out.

Author's Note: Here is update number two of the day. Yay! Enjoy!