Half an hour later, she's there. Brie lands a few feet away from the Mandarin's presumed headquarters, a big mansion of a sort. She found it fairly odd how little guards there seemed to be.

From her position behind faraway bushes, she notes it. A metallic, tight looking door, teasing to hide what was hers behind its hold.

It had to be it.

There were two guards against that door. There was no time. She had to go in heavy.

In the distance, between the trees, the guards note a glow of purple. Two. Then four. And before they could take a single step forth, they were blasted back into the walls vigorously, instantly out cold.

This, of course, caught the rest of the guards' attention. Acting quickly, Brie throws a smoke boom near the door, before blasting it and making a forced entry.

Alarms blare at the notion of her entrance. Three mercenaries flood her vision, an easy kill.

They aim guns, and put in a few shots that bounce off her suit, slightly stinging her body at collision.

Her turn.

Using her gloves, she charges, and releases, taking the first two down, and crashing into the third with her metallic form, throwing a punch to his head for insurance.

Brie is ambushed by a few more as she made her way down the hall, hoping to get this over with so she'd have the time to find for her sister.

And then, Eric Savin appeared, well and alive.

Brie freezes, frustration bubbling in her chest. "You're supposed to be dead," she says.
"And you're about to be," he retorts, charging at her.

Brie evades, pulling back and into his face swiftly, determined and confident in her full suit.

Savin shoves her aside harshly, she falls, metal colliding loudly with the floor.

Turning on her back, he's standing on top, coming down fast. She uses her rocket-boots to push herself away and into the back wall, causing him to trip from speed.

Brie rushes to her feet before he does. She storms towards him, getting a sharp punch to his stupid glowing face! She pulls back, and punches him again. He grabs her hand the third time, and she quickly retaliates with the other.

Savin falls, and she weighs down on him. Wrathful at his persistence and simply needing him gone, Brie aims both hands at his face, charges, and shoots before he could say 'no'.

With face grossly squashed down, and fire burning no more. Brie rises to her feet. Panting heavily, she lifts up her mask, glaring down at Savin's body menacingly.

"Well, I'm not dead, bitch," she spits.

Carefully, slowly, and from behind her, Aldrich Killian smirks at her words, a second before putting a hammer-like first into her head, causing her to scream out and tumble to the floor. He punches her again

and everything goes black.

XXXXX

Tony drives feverishly, only twenty minutes away from Miami.

The Stark does his best not to lose it, the worst of thoughts revolving around his panicked mind and heavy chest.

At one point, he couldn't understand even why he was so scared of losing her.

The thought set his heart at race, and he would clench his jaw, and the car-wheel, whenever his stubborn mind would whisper it coldly.

Too much had happened in the few hours they'd known each other.

They fought each other, fought together, had each other's back, and held each other up in their most vulnerable of times each.

They understood each other, worked well together. There was this comforting closeness between them that was too evident to ignore.

It all happened too fast. Too fast to comprehend,

but enough to fear losing.

To panic at the thought.

To want to scream 'wait!'.

What Tony needed in that very moment, was to hear anything that boded well. Anything.

So he picks up the phone he'd taken from the barn, and dials the number that was labeled 'Pete'.

It rings, then picks up.

"Hey, kid. How's it going with the suit?" Tony hears the clattering of metal, and heavy breathing.
"It's…Uhh…...It's not charging…I'm sorry," the scared boy tells.

Immediately, Tony jerks the car to the side of the road, heartbeat dangerously increasing. He clenched the wheel in pain, or to suppress the pain, but it doesn't work!

Tony shoves the door open, falling onto the road, gasping for air as Peter continuously called his name from the other end of the line.

"Mister Stark! Are you okay?!" he asks. It takes Tony a moment to answer, causing Peter to go crazy with concern.
"…Yeah…just…hhh," he breathes, burying his face in his hands, trying to quiet the hammer in his head.

What would he do?

What would he do now?

How would he get to her in time?

How would he save her?

How?

Peter was smart enough to understand that the Stark freaked out the minute he heard about the suit. He freaks out too.

They had to do something. But what?

If Iron Man was this scared, what could they do?

But no.

Peter grips the phone tightly.

"You know, one thing Brie repeatedly reminds me of, is the fact that you built your first suit in a cave," he starts. Tony's head falls back onto the car, listening with little interest. "She kept saying that, with the right mind, you could build a fortress out of sand and plastic. Mister Stark, she doesn't believe in the suit, she believes in you," Tony's heart clenches at Peter's words, and eyes start to water. He swallows the lump in his throat, afraid.

Afraid of failing.

Afraid of letting her down.

Afraid.

"You don't need the suit, you need your head," Peter tells firmly, trying so hard to keep his voice from breaking.

The last statement hit Tony like a smack across the face.

The kid was right.

He didn't need the suit.

…he needed his head. And he had that. That was all he'd ever needed.

"…Yeah…you're right," Tony utters, shuffling to get back to his feet, and into the car.

Peter beams from the other end of the line. "Okay! Okay! So, I'm gonna try something with the suit, see if it works," he says. Getting back into the car, Tony gets wary.
"Hold up, Edison! What exactly are you gonna try?" he asks, starting the car again.
"Um, something with Brie's charging pod. It didn't work because it's not exactly compatible with your suit, but I think if I rewire…just trust me!"
"…Okaaay. But if you break it!"
"Hehe, no promises. Oh, how do I tell you if it worked?!"
"What'd you mean?"
"I mean you're about to infiltrate the bad guy's secret layer-"
"I wouldn't say 'layer'."
"I can't call you! I have tooo…signal you somehow. Oh! I'll send you a text instead. Brie has her texts on vibrate, it won't make a sound!" Tony smirks somewhat proudly.
"…That's pretty smart, kid," he tells, and hears Peter giggle happily. "Just don't get zapped, okay?"
"Don't worry. Bye, mister Stark!" Tony chuckles.
"Bye, Pete."

Tony hangs up, and feels a sense of confidence wash through him. He may not have heard what he wanted, but he heard what he needed,

and it was enough.

The Stark made his way to the nearest market, going on a stormy shopping spree, a million ideas running through his mind.

With two full carts, the Stark enters a room he'd hurriedly rented, using all he'd bought and combing it to create a dozen different kinds of one-use weapons. Smoke bombs, mini-bombs, sling-ropes, tranquilizer-guns, hand-on-tazers.

And in the range of half an hour, he stormed out, making way to the Mandarin's headquarters.

Once there, Tony uses binoculars to count down how many guards there were, also surprised to note not many.

He scales the fence-wall, sneaks about the compound, quietly and hastily taking down as many as he could till he found his way to the main door.

Once inside, Tony is even more baffled to see the place trashed, with women, and a sole guard seated at a table, arguing with one about the air-conditioner.

Tony tazes his bald head, points Brie's gun at the lady to seal her mouth shut.

He makes his way around to what seemed like a set room. Green-screens, props, make-up-tables, clothes hung up. The whole scene leaves Tony utterly baffled as he subconsciously eyes around for any sign of Brie or the Mandarin.

Alas finding him, Tony demands Brie's location, but the Mandarin knows nothing.

Tony discovers, to his greatest distress, that the Mandarin is but a mere actor, Trevor Slattery, who explained, very poorly with how drunk he was, that the Mandarin was nothing but a character made up by none-other than Killian himself to blame the supposed 'accidental-bombings' on.

Tony panics, oblivious to his next steps,

but they had been made for him.

One of Killian's men enters the premises. Too late did Tony note his presence when the man knocked him out, and took him in.

XXXXXXXXXX