Chapter 2: Iron Armor
October 2, 2005 – Sunday
The bloody chest plate that had once been implanted in Tony's chest—the only thing that had kept him going—lay in a corner, gathering dust. The car battery to which the chest plate was attached was in the same condition: cannibalized and forgotten, the coat of dust upon it underscoring how much time had passed since Tony had given it even a second look.
Faith had quietly watched her father work, slowly getting to know the man behind the public image. She had opened to him about more of her past telling him about her Watcher, Diana Dormer, who had been like a mother to her.
"How did she die," Tony asked as he stood in the midst of cutting metal flat-stock with a torch.
"A vampire," Faith answered sadly. "A master vampire to be exact. He was so old that his hands and feet were cloven. There are no words for what Kakistos did to her."
Tony listened to Faith's heartbreaking account of Diana Dormer's tragic death with a heavy heart. The pain and loss in her voice resonated with him, evoking his own experiences of suffering and adversity.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," Tony said sincerely, his voice filled with compassion. "Losing someone you care about to something so brutal and senseless... it's something I can relate to."
Faith looked at Tony with a mixture of sympathy and understanding as he revealed his own painful loss. "You lost someone?" she asked softly, realizing that beneath his confident exterior, her father had also endured his share of heartache.
Tony nodded; his expression somber. "My parents… your grandparents," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of sorrow. "They died the same way your mother did, in a car accident."
"I'm sorry, Dad," Faith said, the words carrying a genuine sense of empathy and connection. Over time, she had come to recognize and appreciate the love and care her father had shown her, and it had gradually become easier to refer to him by that title.
Tony offered a reassuring smile, his eyes reflecting the warmth of their evolving relationship. "It's okay, Faith," he replied, his heart touched by her words.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Faith's gaze shifted between her father, the illuminated device in his chest, and the scattered items in the room that had been presented to their captors as "missile components." It was a peculiar juxtaposition, one that highlighted the stark contrast between the reality of their situation and the clandestine nature of their true intentions.
Yinsen, noticing their actions, spoke up with a hint of curiosity and perhaps a tinge of suspicion. "Stark! Tell me what you're doing, and I'll tell you what I'm doing," he proposed.
Turning their attention to Yinsen, Tony and Faith observed that he was diligently carving something out of a flat piece of wood. Tony, while filling a cylinder with gas from the torch, couldn't resist a bit of playful banter. "Looks to me like you're making a crappy backgammon board," he quipped.
Yinsen, clearly appalled by the assessment, defended his craft. "Crappy? This is Lebanese cedar."
Tony's interest was piqued, and he couldn't resist asking, "Is that where you're from? Lebanon?"
However, Yinsen chose not to acknowledge the question, instead continuing to shape the board as he proposed a wager. "I'm impressed you even know what this is. How about we play, and if I win, you tell me what you're really making?"
Tony and Faith exchanged a knowing glance, silently reaffirming their decision not to divulge their true intentions. Tony had carefully shared only bits and pieces of his project with Faith through whispered conversations, ensuring that their captors remained unaware of the precise nature of his work.
Turning his attention back to Yinsen, Tony maintained an impassive expression as he responded, "A: I don't know what you're talking about. B: I was the backgammon champ at MIT four years running."
Yinsen's genuine interest was evident in his response. "Interesting," he acknowledged, his curiosity piqued. "I was the champion at Cambridge."
Tony, ever the provocateur, couldn't resist a playful jab. "Please don't use 'interesting' and Cambridge in the same sentence," he retorted dismissively. Then, with a hint of humor, he added, "Is that still a school?"
Yinsen corrected him with a gentle tone, "It's a university," and took the opportunity to tease Tony about Americans' access to the institution. "You probably haven't heard about it since Americans can't get in."
Faith, not one to miss a beat, chimed in with a snarky remark, "Unless they're teaching."
The sudden, atypical entrance of Abu into the cave lab, followed by his lack of adherence to their usual submissive poses, signaled that something was amiss. His foul mood was palpable, and his behavior was more erratic than usual, sending a ripple of unease through the room.
In the midst of the confusion and tension, Tony inadvertently dropped the cylinder he had been secretly filling, its clattering sound lost amidst the commotion caused by Abu's entrance. Yinsen and Faith exchanged nervous glances, aware that any attempt to conceal the dropped item might draw Abu's attention.
Adding to the perplexity of the situation, more men began pouring into the room behind Abu. At first, neither Tony nor Faith recognized them, but a sense of familiarity soon dawned on them. These were the individuals who had been near the larger and more dangerous man they had observed from a distance weeks ago.
The imposing figure, the Boss Man, strode confidently into the room, his presence commanding the attention of everyone present. Even Abu appeared apprehensive in his presence, confirming Tony's earlier assessment that this man was the one truly in charge.
As Yinsen, Faith, and Tony raised their hands in response to the newcomers' entrance, the Boss Man looked them over and, to their surprise, a smile graced his swarthy face. In perfect English, he uttered a reassuring command, "Relax."
Faith and Tony exchanged glances, feeling as though it had been ages since they had heard anyone besides themselves and Yinsen speak English. The presence of the Boss Man and his command to lower their hands added a layer of uncertainty to the already tense atmosphere in the cave lab.
The Boss Man, displaying an air of calculated composure, began to inspect the lab's contents, handling objects with an air of curiosity. His foot came dangerously close to the cylinder Tony had been filling, but at the last moment, he shifted his attention to the washing machine.
As he examined the washing machine, a sense of disbelief grew on his face, and he turned to Abu, seeking an explanation. Abu offered only a wan smile in response, a gesture that clearly fell short of satisfying the Boss Man.
Turning his focus to the workbench, the Boss Man's gaze fell upon Tony's schematics of the missile, spread out across the surface. He studied them, though it was apparent to Tony and Faith that he had little understanding of the intricate details.
"The bow and arrow were once the pinnacle of weapons technology," the Boss Man finally remarked, his polished and educated voice filling the room. "It allowed the great Genghis Khan to rule from the Pacific to the Ukraine."
He turned the schematics around, and instantly Tony and Faith knew that they'd overplayed their hand. The schematics had already been right side up. It was like watching someone with a fifth-grade education trying to decipher the Rosetta stone. Nevertheless, not letting up on his act for even an instant, the Boss Man went on. "Today, whoever has the latest Stark weapons rules these lands. Soon it will be my turn."
Then, his demeanor shifted, a subtle change in tone and expression that suggested he knew Tony and Faith had been trying to deceive him. He spoke quietly to Yinsen, his words carrying an undertone of danger that sent a shiver down their spines.
"Nothing," Yinsen said quickly, his voice tinged with anxiety and fear. "Nothing is 'really going on here.' We're working."
The Boss Man's next words were laced with impatience and a hint of menace. It was significant to Tony and Faith that Yinsen kept responding in English, his voice quivering as he tried to maintain his composure. Obviously, he was doing it for their benefit, to keep them apprised of precisely what was being said and what sort of threat they were facing. "I know it's been a long time, but the weapon is right here," he said, gesturing around the lab. "They are working very hard. It's very complex."
Yinsen glanced toward Tony and Faith then, his eyes filled with desperation, as if looking for backup. Tony and Faith nodded numbly, but they didn't think they were being especially convincing. The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air, and they felt a growing sense of dread.
The Boss Man's next actions indicated that Tony and Faith had made the correct assessment. He snapped something at Abu while gesturing toward Yinsen. Yinsen's face paled as Abu and Ahmed stepped forward, their grip on his shoulders firm and intimidating, forcing him to his knees. As they did so, the Boss Man used a pair of tongs to extract a single hot coal from the furnace. It glowed threateningly in the dimness of the room, casting eerie shadows that danced across the faces of the people in the lab.
He walked—strolled—toward Yinsen, keeping the coal out in front of him. This time he spoke in English, his voice dripping with menace, obviously for Stark's benefit. "Tell me what is going on?"
"Nothing! Nothing is going on!" said Yinsen, his voice trembling with fear, his eyes locked on the glowing coal.
"Open your mouth," the Boss Man ordered, his voice carrying a cruel authority.
Yinsen did not comply. Tony and Faith stood paralyzed, their hearts pounding, desperate to make some sort of move to intervene, but they knew that the Boss Man's guards would cut them down before they took two steps. Abu and Ahmed, meanwhile, tightened their grip on Yinsen's face and forced his mouth open, their actions relentless and merciless. Yinsen struggled fiercely but in futility, his eyes filled with terror.
The coal came closer to Yinsen's open mouth. "Tell me now!" said the Boss Man, his tone carrying the implicit threat that Yinsen was rapidly running out of time.
In a pitiful but last-ditch effort to convince them, Yinsen bellowed, his voice quivering with desperation, "They're building your bomb!"
The desperate lie hung in the air like a dark cloud, suffocating the room with tension. The Boss Man stared at Yinsen, his gaze piercing as if he were studying the words, floating invisibly, considering them, and giving them weight. Then, with a chilling finality, he dropped the coal on the floor in front of Yinsen. It bounced away, cooling as it rolled. Without needing further instruction, Abu and Ahmed released Yinsen, though not without an added shove for good measure.
Seconds later, they swiftly exited the room, the door slamming shut behind them. Tony and Faith rushed to Yinsen, who remained on his knees, his body trembling from the adrenaline and fear that still coursed through him. "Who the hell was that?" Tony whispered urgently, his voice filled with a mix of concern and confusion.
"Raza. A tribal warlord. They answer to him," Yinsen answered, his voice laden with weariness and resignation.
"We could see that," Faith said grimly, concern evident in her eyes. She couldn't help but ask, "Are you okay?"
Yinsen looked at them in a way that indicated that was quite possibly the dumbest thing Faith could possibly have asked him. It was clear that the ordeal had taken a toll on him, both physically and emotionally.
The father-daughter duo exchanged a silent glance before helping Yinsen to his feet. Yinsen, now standing with their support, said, "That's twice I saved your life. Now are you going to tell me what the hell you two are really building?"
Tony glanced at Faith, and they nodded in agreement. Without hesitation, they turned and walked over to the light board. As Faith flicked it on, Tony lifted it up, revealing a simple hiding place that had remained unnoticed. From under the board, Tony pulled out a sheaf of schematics and started laying them out on the board, keeping his body positioned to block the ever-present camera, ensuring they had no clear view of what he was doing.
He gestured for Yinsen to come over and take a look. Yinsen did so, his eyes widening in wonderment as Tony and Faith produced sheet after sheet of designs, their passion and innovation evident in the intricate details.
Yinsen studied them, whistled softly, and then said approvingly, his voice carrying a touch of warmth amid the tension, "Finally, an idea of your own."
"Unless you count ancient knights," Faith quipped, her attempt at humor a brief respite from the intense situation.
"I think the bravest of those knights would have taken one look at this walking toward them and fled the battlefield," Yinsen said with a wry smile, trying to inject a bit of gallows humor into the conversation. "Let us hope that Abu and his men have at least that much wisdom."
Tony's eyes were cold, and his tone grew grim. "Honestly," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of defiance, "Part of me is hoping they don't."
October 3, 2005 – Monday
Faith stood beside Tony; her gaze fixed on her father as he stood in front of the sink. She observed as he used Yinsen's shaving implements, the mundane act providing a brief moment of normalcy amidst the chaos that surrounded them. As Tony shaved, the tense atmosphere was interrupted by the sharp sound of the door slat being slammed aside, making Tony nick himself slightly in surprise. Courtesy of the mirror, Tony and Faith exchanged a quick glance, their eyes reflecting a mixture of caution and anticipation. They knew those eyes all too well by now; it was Abu, glaring at them from outside the door.
Unfazed by the lack of reaction from Tony or Faith, Abu closed the slat and went about his mysterious business, leaving the father and daughter to continue their routine. Faith wiped the remains of the runny shaving lather from her father's face, her touch gentle and comforting. Then Tony returned the shaving tools to their place and pulled on a pair of thick gloves as he and Faith moved toward the furnace.
Using oversized tongs, Tony removed a white-hot piece of metal from the furnace, his movements precise and controlled. "You have yet to tell me what happened after you left Boston," Tony said, his voice calm but curious, as he started hammering the metal with a mallet.
Faith hesitated for a moment; her eyes distant as she recalled her past. "I went to Sunnydale," she answered, her voice tinged with a mixture of nostalgia and sorrow.
Tony glanced at Faith with a raised eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "The town that disappeared in a sinkhole?" he questioned.
"They very one," Faith admitted, her gaze fixed on the glowing metal, avoiding her father's eyes. "I arrived there about five years before that. And by the way, that event was anything but natural. When I arrived in Sunnydale, I met the other Slayer, Buffy Summers. At first, things were good. Though B was kind of jealous of me. We did the whole Chosen Two thing for a while, and then one night we were fighting vampires, and I..." Her voice trailed off, the weight of her confession heavy in the air. She was hesitant to tell her father that had been the first time she had killed a man, not wanting to taint herself in his eyes.
Tony continued to hammer the white-hot metal, the rhythmic clanging providing a backdrop to their conversation. Faith's reluctance to continue her story hung in the air like an unspoken secret, a palpable tension between father and daughter.
Tony's expression softened, understanding the difficulty of the confession Faith was about to make. He paused his work for a moment and met her gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of empathy and concern. "It's okay, Faith," he said gently, his voice a soothing balm in the midst of their troubled circumstances. "You can tell me. I won't judge you."
Faith swallowed hard, her emotions warring within her. She knew her father's words were sincere, but the fear of disappointing him still weighed heavily on her mind. "That night," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "we came upon a man, a human. I thought he was another vampire. I accidentally staked him. I killed someone's father, someone's husband, someone's brother, someone's son."
Tony stopped his work again, his gaze fixed on Faith, his eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and understanding. He could see the pain etched across her face, the burden of guilt that had haunted her for so long. "Faith," he said gently, his voice a soothing presence amidst the turmoil of their pasts. "We all make mistakes, especially in the heat of battle. What's important is that you carry the weight of those actions and learn from them."
"Dad, you don't understand," Faith continued, her voice filled with sorrow and regret. "That was the beginning of a downward spiral. I wound up siding with the Mayor of Sunnydale after that. I became evil, and I didn't care. I killed anyone the Mayor wanted. I traversed so far down that path it led to confrontation with B. I wound up in a coma for eight months. When I woke up, I went looking for her for revenge."
Tony's grip on her shoulder tightened, a gesture of support and understanding. He knew that her journey had been fraught with darkness, and he couldn't imagine the pain she had endured. "Faith," he said softly, his voice filled with compassion, "we all have moments in our lives when we lose our way. What matters is that you're here now, trying to make amends and find your path back to the light."
"That's what Angel always said," Faith continued, her voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and gratitude.
"Angel?" Tony questioned; his curiosity piqued.
Faith nodded, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. "A vampire," she answered. "One of two to ever have their soul. After I confronted Buffy, I ran away to Los Angeles. Tried to kill Angel. He saw how I was struggling and got me to turn myself in to the police. I spent the next three years behind bars until I broke out to first help Angel and then later Buffy. Officially, I think I'm still a wanted fugitive."
Tony couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the unusual turn her story had taken. Nevertheless, he was deeply moved by his daughter's journey and her willingness to confront her past. "It sounds like you've had quite the adventure," he said with a small, understanding smile. "But what's important now is that you're on a different path, trying to do the right thing."
Faith nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude for her father's acceptance and support. She knew that her past was a dark and complex tapestry, but she was determined to weave a brighter future. "Yeah," she said softly, "I'm trying to make amends, one step at a time."
Across the room, Yinsen was busy soldering a bit of complex circuitry. He looked up and stared at Tony and Faith as Tony returned to pounding away on the metal.
"My people have a tale," said Yinsen slowly, distantly, as if he were speaking from a place far in the future, "about a prince, much hated by his king, who was banished to the underworld and jailed there. The evil king gave him the most difficult labor, working the iron pits."
Tony didn't turn his attention away from his work, but his gaze along with Faith's flickered over to Yinsen just enough to convey that they were listening.
Yinsen went on. "Year after year the prince mined the heavy ore, becoming so strong he could crush pieces of it together with his bare hands. Too late, the king realized his mistake. When he struck at the prince with his finest sword—it broke in two. The prince himself had become strong as iron."
Tony held up the metal that he'd been working on. A crude iron mask stared back at him and Faith. He laid it down carefully and it sat on the ground, cooling.
October 4, 2005 – Tuesday
Tony and Faith had become skilled at working in such a way that they were capable of blocking out from the video camera's view something that they didn't want people on the other side of the camera to see. Their hearts raced with the thrill of their covert actions, and a sense of urgency hung in the air, like a hidden ember waiting to ignite.
Carefully, Tony put the finishing touches on a small box. His fingers trembled with a mix of excitement and anxiety, knowing that their lives depended on the success of their plan. It contained a laser pointer, a fan, and tinsel. He taped it shut, his hands moving with practiced precision, then peeked through a tiny hole in its side to make certain that the final effect was what he was looking for. A flicker of relief washed over him as he saw the desired outcome.
Satisfied that it was perfect, he tucked the box under his arm and stepped away from the workbench, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat of hope. Tony then casually, as if it were of no importance, strolled straight toward the video camera. His every step was a deliberate act, a dance of deception. He kept going until he was standing directly under it, out of range of the lens, his breath held in anticipation. Then, as quickly as he could, he placed the box directly over the lens, making certain that the hole he'd created was properly positioned. With a piece of tape that he'd secured to his finger, he affixed the box to the camera. The tension in the room was palpable as he stepped back and waited to see if there was a pounding at the door in response.
After ten minutes of their captors' silence, a fragile ray of hope began to pierce through the darkness that had shrouded them. Faith, Tony, and Yinsen gathered by the workbench, their eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and determination. Tony had taped a small, round sensor patch to his leg, a lifeline in this treacherous gambit. A thin wire ran through a crusty-looking laptop computer, and the computer in turn was attached to a miniature armature on the workbench. It looked like a small replica of a human leg that a child could have constructed with metal Tinkertoys.
Tony's hands shook as he plugged the setup into his chest reactor, a connection to life and freedom. Time seemed to stand still, and for a few agonizing seconds, nothing happened. The laptop's screen remained dark, mirroring the uncertainty that hung in the room. Everything depended on this moment.
Then, like a beacon of hope, the laptop's screen lit up. Data flooded the screen, a digital lifeline that pulsed with promise. Everything looked exactly the way Tony expected it to. Then slowly, carefully, since he had no desire to have the armature overreact and throw itself off the table, Stark moved the leg to which the sensor was attached.
The armature promptly responded in kind, moving with a grace that defied the dire circumstances they found themselves in. Tony's eyes sparkled with a mixture of marvel and determination as he controlled the mechanical leg. Yinsen gasped in amazement, his face aglow with newfound hope. Tony thrust his knee upward, and the armature mimicked the motion flawlessly. He turned his leg to the right, then to the left, and the armature continued to mirror his movements with astonishing precision. Faith, who was monitoring the readouts in relation to the reactor, gave her father a thumbs up, her heart swelling with pride. The energy required to accomplish what Tony was doing didn't make so much as a blip on their radar.
Tony shared a triumphant look with Faith and Yinsen. The two men and Faith nodded simultaneously, their unspoken camaraderie a testament to their resilience and determination.
"We're ready," said Tony briskly, his voice tinged with the urgency of their situation. There was no telling when one of their captors might show up, so he disassembled the rig as quickly as possible. "A week of assembly, and we're a go."
"Then perhaps it's time we settle another matter," said Yinsen with such gravity that Tony and Faith exchanged curious glances, wondering what could possibly be hanging over him. Yinsen's gaze shifted to the backgammon table he had constructed, and a sense of intrigue filled the room.
"Go on, Dad," Faith said with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I want to see what you can do. Make me proud."
Tony let out a hearty chuckle, the tension of their circumstances momentarily forgotten, as he acquiesced to his daughter's request. A half-hour later, he and Yinsen were deeply engrossed in a hard-fought game of backgammon, the clatter of dice and the strategy of the game a temporary escape from their captivity.
Faith watched with a warm smile as she savored the food they had been brought, her heart lifted by the sight of her father finding solace in the simple pleasures of a board game.
Yinsen watched Tony's next move and nodded in approval, his admiration evident. "Ah, anchoring with 13-7," he said, his voice filled with genuine pride. He couldn't have sounded prouder if Tony were his own son or if he'd made the move himself. "You know, I have never met anyone who understands the nuances of this game like you."
"Right back at ya," Tony said with a wry grin. The bond between them had grown strong through their shared trials, and Tony's curiosity about Yinsen's past was genuine. "You know, you never told us where you're from."
Yinsen hesitated for a moment, his eyes distant, though Tony and Faith sensed it was more out of habit than reluctance to speak. "I come from a small village called Gulmira. It was a good place… before these men ravaged it." His gaze shifted towards the door, a silent indictment of their captors. There was a weight in his voice, a sorrow that resonated with the scars of his past.
"Do you have a family?" Faith inquired gently; her compassion evident in her eyes.
Yinsen's smile held a glimmer of hope. "When I get out of here, I am going to see them again." His words were filled with determination and a longing for the day when he could reunite with his loved ones. But then, he shifted his focus from his own story to Tony and Faith. "Do you two have any other family?"
"I haven't a clue," Faith admitted, her expression thoughtful as she glanced at her father.
"No," Tony replied, his voice devoid of emotion, as if discussing a trivial matter. There was a detachment in his tone, an indifference that masked the complex emotions he held about his past.
Yinsen regarded Tony with something akin to pity, his eyes carrying a depth of understanding that transcended words. "So before being reunited with your daughter in this cave, you were a man who had everything and nothing."
Tony's brow furrowed as he tried to decipher the meaning behind Yinsen's words, a profound statement that echoed with the complexities of his life. But before he could dwell on it further, Abu's voice abruptly shattered the moment, shouting in Arabic from behind the door slat. A moment later, the imposing figure of Abu strode into the room.
Yinsen remained a portrait of composure as he calmly informed Abu, "Your laundry's over there," his voice carrying a touch of irony.
Abu, a stark contrast to his usual intimidating demeanor, went over to the basket where his neatly folded laundry awaited. Tony and Faith exchanged amused glances, finding the situation oddly amusing. They both remembered Abu's vehement objections to Tony's request for a clothes washer.
Abu lifted the basket and took a whiff, a rare smile momentarily gracing his face, an incongruous sight. But soon, his more customary scowl returned as he slung the basket under one arm and headed for the door. He muttered something in Arabic, leaving Tony and Faith puzzled.
In a hushed voice, Yinsen translated, "You idiots don't know what you're doing with that game."
Tony couldn't resist a shrug and a playful quip as Abu departed, "Yeah, yeah, enjoy your laundry," a small act of defiance and humor in the face of their captors, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, they clung to their humanity and spirit.
Abu yanked open the door, about to head out, and suddenly froze in place. A rush of anxiety coursed through him, his heart pounding in his chest. It was at that moment Faith's Slayer senses went on high alert, her instincts screaming danger even before she saw what Abu was reacting to. Her pulse quickened, and a shiver ran down her spine.
Within seconds, Raza strode slowly in, his ominous presence casting a shadow over the room. His steely gaze wandered over Tony, Faith, and Yinsen, each of them tense and ready for whatever might happen next. Then, his piercing eyes settled on Abu, who struggled to maintain composure, and finally, to Abu's laundry, of all things.
Abu felt a bead of sweat forming on his forehead as he forced a shaky smile and started to say something, his voice quivering with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.
Raza's face contorted with a mixture of anger and cold determination as he pulled his gun out of his holster. His fingers tightened around the grip, and with a violent swing, he unleashed a brutal assault. The gun's butt connected with Abu's head in a sickening impact that sent shockwaves of pain through the room.
Abu's world spun as the vicious blow snapped his head back, shattering his nose in the process. Blood erupted from his crushed nose, painting a gruesome tableau on his freshly laundered clothing. The crimson liquid sprayed across the fabric, a stark contrast to the immaculate white it had been just moments ago. Abu's body crumpled to the floor, his clothing spilling around him in a chaotic mess.
Tony, Faith, and Yinsen didn't budge an inch. Paralyzed by fear, their hearts raced with uncertainty, unable to discern whether this chilling declaration was a mere warning or the grim herald of their imminent end.
The room's tension thickened as Raza's voice, devoid of any hint of emotion, cut through the oppressive silence. "You have until tomorrow to assemble my missile." His words hung in the air like a death sentence, and it was impossible to gauge his true intentions. With a swift turn on his heel, he departed, leaving them with an icy dread that chilled them to the bone.
Two of Raza's ruthless henchmen promptly filled the void, seizing the groaning Abu without an ounce of compassion. Their mechanical efficiency painted a stark contrast to the agony etched on Abu's face. As they dragged him away, the door slammed shut behind them.
Tony was still grappling with the shock of what had just transpired. A small part of him desperately clung to the hope that this was all some elaborate ruse designed to terrify them, but deep down, he knew better. Raza's cold, unfeeling demeanor had left no room for doubt. He had made it abundantly clear, in case there was any ambiguity, who held the reins in this harrowing situation.
A stifling silence enveloped the room like a suffocating shroud, each passing second intensifying the weight of their predicament. Then, with a silent and determined resolve, Tony mouthed three words to Faith and Yinsen: Time to go. Faith and Yinsen nodded in silent agreement, understanding the urgency that now gripped them.
Gone were the leisurely deliberations and meticulous planning. There was no room for cautious system checks or careful preparations anymore. Tony knew he had to execute his plan flawlessly on the first try, with no margin for error. Failure was not an option, as it would seal their fates in this living nightmare. Conversely, if they did nothing, they were condemned to the same grim outcome that had befallen Abu.
A thin, ominous trail of Abu's blood seeped under the door, an eerie reminder of the brutal consequences that awaited them should they falter in their desperate bid for escape.
October 5, 2005 – Wednesday
Morning had dawned, and Raza, his patience thinning by the minute, entered his control room. He was irked to notice that the fans were operating well below their usual capacity, leaving him uncomfortably hot and sweaty. His frustration was palpable as he mopped his brow with a towel, determined to get to the bottom of this unacceptable dip in power output.
As he strode in, he found his lieutenants locked in a heated argument, huddled around a map of a local village they had marked for their next attack. Their voices rose in contention as they debated the optimal time and place for their assault. The crux of their dispute centered on whether to wait for U.S. troops to arrive in the vicinity, given the known troop movements in the area. The arguments for both sides were fervent.
On one hand, launching the attack before the troops arrived would preserve their element of surprise, dealing a blow to the soldiers' pride as they discovered a ravaged village upon their arrival. It also carried minimal risk for Raza's insurgents. Conversely, postponing the assault until the American forces were present offered the opportunity to kill Americans, albeit at a higher risk to Raza's own men.
Unbeknownst to the bickering lieutenants, Raza's sharp eyes scanned the room, taking note of his men diligently assembling and cleaning their various weapons. He nodded in approval, a silent acknowledgment of their dedication to the cause. His presence had gone unnoticed amidst the tumult of the argument.
Without bothering to alert the quarreling subordinates, Raza redirected his attention to a nearby monitor. Khalid, one of his trusted lieutenants, was fixated on the screen, carefully observing Tony, Faith, and Yinsen. Khalid had been specifically instructed to monitor the trio closely.
Yinsen was in view, working with a fervent determination on the jig, a part of the metalworking machine that secured an object in place. From Raza's angle, he couldn't discern what object Yinsen was working on, but sparks flew in all directions. Yinsen's face was smeared with dirt, and perspiration carved rivulets through the filth, underscoring the intensity of his effort.
What troubled Raza more was the absence of Tony and Faith from his line of sight. They were neither beside Yinsen nor behind him. The only logical places they could be were either beneath the surveillance camera, suggesting some clandestine activity, or atop the metalworking table, which lay beyond the camera's reach. But the latter option made no sense whatsoever. Why on earth would Tony and Faith be perched on the metalworking table?
"Khalid. Where are the Starks?" Raza demanded, impatience lacing his words.
Khalid shook his head, his expression filled with uncertainty.
"Well? Go look!" Raza's impatience grew, his voice taut with urgency.
Khalid wasted no time, his instincts sharp as he sprang from behind the monitor. "With me!" he commanded, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. The men who had been engrossed in weapons inspections swiftly fell into formation, their guns at the ready. They followed Khalid out of the room, a silent procession armed and prepared for any threat that may lie ahead.
Raza seamlessly took Khalid's vacated position, his presence now acknowledged by his anxious lieutenants who continued to argue about the village attack. He waved them away, his focus directed elsewhere, toward the unfolding situation outside the lab.
Surveillance cameras were strategically placed throughout the complex, providing a watchful eye over every corner, including the door leading into the lab. A lingering smear of blood on the floor went unnoticed by Raza, for his attention was locked onto Khalid's every move.
Khalid approached the door cautiously, sliding aside the slat with deliberate care. His voice, laced with urgency, cut through the stillness. "Yinsen! Yinsen!"
Raza's gaze shifted to Yinsen, who appeared oblivious to Khalid's frantic calls, engrossed in the tumultuous work at the metalworking table. Khalid, however, left nothing to chance. He signaled to his men, who edged forward, weapons poised, wary of the possibility that Yinsen might have a trick or trap up his sleeve, however improbable it seemed.
Khalid's hand reached for the door, unbolting it and attempting to push it open. To their bewilderment, nothing happened.
Raza's unease grew into certainty that something was awry, but he found himself at a loss about what action to take. Khalid's demeanor indicated readiness for anything, and his cautious approach seemed prudent. Yet, a nagging feeling tugged at Raza's consciousness, suggesting he might be overlooking something unexpected, something crucial.
Then it struck him—a sudden revelation. The door. It could be jammed not by accident but deliberately, tampered with by Yinsen, Faith, and Tony as part of a plan. Their intent was clear: an impact-triggered mechanism that required more than just opening the door conventionally. Raza shuddered at the implications, unable to bring himself to contemplate the specifics of their scheme.
In that moment, Raza knew what Khalid should do. He needed to step back, deploy a grenade, and blast the door open from a safe distance. The urgency of the situation propelled Raza to grab his radio and snap it on, desperately trying to establish contact with Khalid.
Meanwhile, Khalid, his thought process diverging from Raza's, was fixated on the immediate obstacle before him. Confronted with the door, he resorted to the most apparent course of action: he rammed his shoulder into it. As he did, he chanced a glance down at the walkie-talkie on his hip, which had just emitted a beep, signaling Raza's attempt to reach him.
Then, in a twist of cruel irony, Khalid vanished.
Raza's world erupted into chaos. The result of the explosion flashed on his monitor before he heard it—a colossal blast that filled the screen with smoke, debris, and an impenetrable cloud that obliterated any visual clarity. He couldn't discern whether Khalid and his men had survived the impact as the deafening detonation reverberated through the cavernous hideaway, echoing like a harbinger of doom.
Pandemonium ensued immediately. Shouts and panicked exclamations filled the air as most of Raza's subordinates, who hadn't been observing the monitor, believed they were under attack by the United States Air Force, convinced that bunker busters were raining down upon them. Raza struggled to regain control, but it took precious moments and a drastic act—a gunshot to the knee of one of his junior officers—to command the attention of his unruly lieutenants. Only then did he manage to wrest some semblance of order from the bedlam that had engulfed the compound.
As he exerted authority, Raza continued scanning the monitors, desperately searching for any sign of Tony, Faith, and Yinsen attempting to escape. There was none. To his growing frustration, they remained concealed in their lab, effectively trapping themselves. It was a costly mistake, one that Raza vowed they would pay for immediately and irrevocably.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
The IED cylinder, loaded with propane gas and set as a trap by Tony earlier, had executed its intended function flawlessly. The moment Raza's men had inadvertently ruptured it while attempting to breach the lab, it had exploded precisely as planned. Tony could only hope and pray that the explosion had bought them enough time to escape the dire predicament they were in.
Amidst the chaos, Yinsen's focus was split between monitoring the computer activity and sealing Tony into the bulky chest piece. The pneumatic wrench emitted a shrill screech as it joined the front and back sections together, locking Tony within.
"It's frozen," Yinsen stated, his voice carrying a hint of tension as he pointed at the laptop screen. "The systems aren't talking to each other. Reset!"
"No, we don't have time for that," Faith asserted firmly.
Tony nodded in agreement with his daughter. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, observing the program bars that represented the immense task at hand. Translating the movements of his leg into a small armature had been a relatively quick process, but this was an entirely different challenge. They were attempting to download every conceivable movement his body could make into a program to operate a massive, life-sized mechanism. In essence, they were converting his entire nervous system into a torrent of data. It was a task far beyond the capabilities of an inexpensive laptop, likely acquired through dubious means. These devices often froze up while handling mundane email tasks; what they were attempting now was the equivalent of downloading the entire United States Postal System.
If Yinsen's assessment was accurate—if a system reboot was indeed necessary—their situation looked grim. Time was a luxury they couldn't afford, and a reboot would likely seal their fate.
Tony and Faith breathed sighs of relief as they observed that Yinsen's initial assessment was incorrect. "No, they're moving," Tony affirmed, his voice laced with tension. "Very slowly."
Yinsen reexamined the laptop screen and reluctantly nodded, acknowledging Tony's insight. His expression, however, remained clouded with apprehension. The agonizingly slow progress of the program bars added to the mounting pressure.
Minutes trickled away, each second stretching into an eternity as the bars inched upwards at an exasperatingly sluggish pace. Faith, stationed by the door, could discern the ceaseless clamor of shouting outside. It had been a constant since the door had been blown open. Although she couldn't understand a word of the Arabic being shouted, the confusion and fear in the voices were palpable. People were bellowing at each other, seeking answers, gripped by terror, and utterly disoriented.
Time, however, was their most elusive adversary, slipping through their fingers with every passing moment.
"Get to your cover," Tony instructed Yinsen with brisk determination. "Remember the checkpoints—make sure each one is clear before you follow me out."
Yinsen nodded in acknowledgment, his attention still fixed on the agonizingly slow progress of the program bars. Then, in a hushed voice, he added, "That is a good plan, but it will not be good enough."
With those ominous words, Yinsen bolted from the lab without a backward glance, leaving Tony and Faith bewildered and alarmed. They both shouted his name, their voices echoing with concern.
"Faith," Tony said, his gaze locked on his daughter.
"I'll be right behind you," Faith assured her father, determination etched on her face. "I'm your only protection until that thing is ready."
Tony and Faith shared a knowing look, their unspoken bond fortified by their impending escape plan. Tony's nod affirmed their shared resolve. "Be ready. When I give the word."
"Promise," Faith replied, her grin reflecting both determination and anticipation. "Boy, B is going to be surprised when I tell her about this."
Little did Faith know that at that very moment, Buffy and Dawn were seated for dinner in a Gotham City restaurant with an old acquaintance named Rachel Dawes. Unbeknownst to them, the Summers sisters were on the brink of their own extraordinary adventure, destined to intersect with the enigmatic figure known as Batman.
Faith turned her attention back to the progress bars as she and Tony waited on the computer to finish downloading the information. Faith knew from what her father had said that he couldn't move before it was done; the device in which he was now contained was simply too damned heavy.
They heard Yinsen's voice growing fainter and fainter as he sprinted down the corridor, the clang of doors slamming shut, then muffled bursts of gunfire, a single weapon. Those sounds were enough to enable them to picture in their mind's eye exactly what was going on.
Suddenly Yinsen wasn't shouting anymore. Everything had become very quiet.
"Almost there," Faith said as she noted that the computer bars as finished their cycle. Within seconds the device went on line. "You're up, Dad. Time to go home."
"Remember what I said before he ran out. Remember the checkpoints and make sure everyone is clear," Tony instructed her.
"Promise," Faith said. "But remember what I am. Short of a bullet, I'm much stronger than they are and head quite faster."
"Still be careful," Tony said as he rose inelegantly from the table like a latter-day Frankenstein's monster.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Omar and Ahmed charged down the corridor toward the lab, their confidence bolstered by the belief that whatever tricks the Americans had concocted would prove futile. They were accompanied by two of Raza's men, ready to confront any obstacles in their path. They had little faith that Tony and Faith's ploys could protect them, especially considering their apparent inability to safeguard the old man, Yinsen.
Approaching the security door that guarded the entrance to the lab, they found it closed. The old man must have secured it behind him during his brief and ill-fated escape attempt. Ahmed couldn't help but wonder what Tony and Faith had said to persuade Yinsen that such a rash action could be advantageous. Unfortunately, they would never receive answers from the old man.
With unwavering confidence, Ahmed reached for the lock. But just as his hand hovered inches away from the door, a colossal force slammed into it from the other side. The impact was heavy, powerful enough to create a massive dent in the armored door.
Startled and off balance, Ahmed stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding a fall thanks to Omar's steadying grip. One of Raza's men muttered a bewildered exclamation. The door buckled again as the mysterious object on the other side collided with it once more. This time, the outward bulge was even more pronounced, and the thunderous sound reverberated throughout the corridor.
All four men instinctively retreated, their firearms raised and trained on the door. Ahmed's heart raced in his chest, and confusion swirled in his mind. It was as if an enormous creature, perhaps an elephant or some other colossal beast, was attempting to smash its way through. But the absurdity of such a scenario left them all utterly baffled. Where on earth could Tony and Faith have procured an elephant, or anything capable of causing such havoc? It defied reason, leaving them grappling with the inexplicable events unfolding before them.
With each successive smash, the two armored doors guarding the entrance to the lab began to give way, their hinges groaning under the relentless force.
Amid the chaos, Ahmed's radio crackled to life, carrying Raza's perplexed voice. "What's going on down there?" Raza demanded.
"I don't know!" Ahmed shouted in response, his words laced with fear and confusion.
Then, in a crescendo of destruction, the doors practically exploded off their hinges, propelled by a final crashing impact. As the dust and debris settled, a mesmerizing sight unfolded before them.
A radiant, glowing object floated through the air toward them. In the dimness of the cave, it resembled a suspended disk, a miniature sun descending upon them. However, Ahmed quickly discerned that this luminous entity wasn't alone; it was part of something far grander.
Something immense.
As it stepped forward into the dim light, Ahmed and the others finally saw it clearly. Initially, for the briefest moment, Ahmed's mind registered it as some sort of tank. The figure before them was clad in dull gray metal, reflecting what little light the small wall-mounted fixtures provided.
But in the next instant, realization dawned upon Ahmed. It wasn't a tank; it was something far more extraordinary. It had arms and legs, the unmistakable form of a man, and it was entirely encased in armor. A man made of iron.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Tony had lived in a constant state of fear for so long that the sensation of empowerment had nearly faded from his memory. But now, in the embrace of the iron armor, that feeling surged within him with renewed vigor. The oppressive weight of his past hardships and the perpetual fear of impending death were replaced by a sense of control and strength he had longed for.
No longer would he cower or be at the mercy of his captors. Every slight, every moment of vulnerability he had endured was about to be avenged, repaid in full measure. And the man he most yearned to confront stood right before him—Ahmed, who still wore Jimmy's Mets watch on his wrist, a memento of their earlier encounter.
Protected within the formidable armor, Tony strode forward with determination. He made a beeline for Ahmed, who scrambled backward, panic in his eyes, firing his weapon in frantic desperation. Tony braced himself inwardly, aware that the armor should easily withstand the assault—bullets should pose no threat—but it was an entirely different experience to have a machine gun pointed at you at point-blank range.
His concerns proved unfounded. The bullets struck the armored suit, ricocheting off its formidable surface as if they were nothing more than harmless water droplets. The cacophony of gunfire reverberated loudly within the confines of the suit, akin to being trapped inside a gigantic swinging church bell. The noise was deafening, but Stark knew that if all he suffered was a ringing in his ears, he would consider himself fortunate.
With swift determination, Tony closed in on Ahmed, wrenching the machine gun from his trembling hands and effortlessly snapping it in half. Even in the dimly lit hallway, he could see the color drain from Ahmed's face as panic surged within him. Tony reached out for Ahmed, his intention clear.
The armor afforded Tony many advantages, but swiftness was not one of them. Ahmed seized the opportunity to retreat, darting out of Tony's reach. Meanwhile, the other insurgents closed in, unleashing a barrage of rapid and unrelenting gunfire. Tony absorbed the impact of their attacks, his armored suit managing to handle the bullets. Yet, the sustained fire began to take its toll. Small dents began to appear on the suit's surface, and Tony started to worry that the seams might not withstand the relentless stress.
Undaunted, Tony pressed forward, systematically pushing his assailants back. Omar's hesitance allowed Tony to get within reach, and with a swift motion, he grabbed Omar and swung him around, sending him crashing into the other two insurgents. They tumbled to the ground, their weapons dropping from their hands. Tony methodically crushed their guns beneath his armored boot. Scanning the area, he sought out Ahmed, but there was no sign of him. The man had fled, leaving Tony to seethe with contempt for his cowardice.
"Faith," Tony called back to his daughter.
"Right behind you," Faith responded with unwavering determination. "Kick their butts, Dad."
Tony proceeded down the corridor, his steps resonating with a metallic crunch as Faith followed closely behind. Suddenly, tracer bullets whizzed through the air from up ahead. "Faith, stay back," Tony cautioned as the bullets pinged off his armored exterior. He pressed on, catching glimpses of the stunned insurgents retreating before the iron monstrosity that confronted them.
Tony continued his relentless advance through the labyrinthine corridors, his armored suit deflecting bullets and leaving the insurgents in awe of the iron-clad titan before them.
As he passed a cross corridor, a single bullet struck his head, a sudden impact that jolted him. A moment later, a sound of something hitting the ground reached his ears. Tony's limited peripheral vision forced him to turn his entire torso to investigate. Lying lifeless on the ground beside him was Ahmed, a bullet hole squarely in the middle of his head.
Realization dawned on Tony. Ahmed had attempted to fire at him point-blank, only for the bullet to ricochet back and fatally strike Ahmed himself.
"Faith," Tony called out, aware that he couldn't bend down to retrieve the watch on Ahmed's wrist. "As you come past, get the watch."
"Will do," Faith replied, determination in her voice. She followed her father, and when she reached Ahmed's lifeless body, she bent down and retrieved Jimmy's watch before pocketing it.
The insurgents, having witnessed the formidable might of the iron man, were mustering their courage and attempting to organize a coordinated assault. Tony, however, refused to yield an inch. On the contrary, he increased his pace, his confidence in the suit growing with each step. He swatted aside attackers with ease, sending them careening into walls, ceilings, and each other like discarded poker chips.
Turning a corner, Tony came to an abrupt halt, confronted by a startling sight. Yinsen lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of crimson spreading around him. He was on his back, and from a distance, it appeared that Yinsen had succumbed to his injuries. The amount of damage he had endured seemed insurmountable, and it defied belief that anyone could endure such trauma and still be alive.
The assailants who had attacked Yinsen were conspicuously absent. They had either engaged in a futile assault on Tony or fled entirely upon realizing the unstoppable force that was approaching.
Tony began to stride toward Yinsen, his concern evident, but to his astonishment, Yinsen spoke.
"Stop! Stop!" Yinsen cried out in alarm, causing Tony to halt in his tracks. Faith joined her father, kneeling beside Yinsen to assess his condition. She glanced up at Tony just as he rocked back on his heels, startled by the sudden appearance of an RPG streaking from a cross corridor. The rocket-propelled grenade hurtled through the air directly in front of him, exploding against the wall. The impact not only brought down a section of the wall but also caused a chunk of the ceiling to crumble. Had the missile struck Tony's armored suit, it might have inflicted more damage than the already battered suit could withstand.
Tony's gaze bore down the corridor, his eyes locking onto Raza. There, Raza stood, clad in a flak jacket and swiftly reloading the rocket launcher. A growing number of insurgents flooded into the tunnel behind Raza, their voices raised in shouts of encouragement.
"Get behind me," Tony ordered Faith, who promptly complied, taking shelter behind her father. Tony raised his arms, attempting to engage the flamethrowers integrated into the iron man suit. The duo heard the initial misfire, the unsettling clicking that failed to ignite, and a surge of panic briefly welled up within Tony, like an acrid taste in his mouth.
Raza, realizing the impending danger, aimed the launcher at Tony, ready to unleash the rocket. Tony frantically shook out his arms, hoping that the issue was merely a clog in the fuel line. To his immense relief and the insurgents' astonishment, twin plumes of fire erupted from his arms, tearing through the air with ferocious intensity.
Confronted by the searing flames racing toward him, Raza reacted on pure instinct. He abandoned the rocket launcher, seizing the nearest of his men and thrusting him directly in the path of the oncoming fire, using the unfortunate insurgent as an improvised shield.
The unfortunate man used as an impromptu human shield screamed in agony as he transformed from a living being into an instant funeral pyre. He staggered, his arms flailing like a burning piñata, before collapsing in a charred heap. As he succumbed to the flames, Raza and the remaining insurgents hastily retreated, fleeing from the tunnel that Stark continued to purge with searing flames, resembling an armored exterminator clearing out a rat infestation.
Tony averted his gaze from the smoldering remains of Raza's man and felt a queasy sensation rising within him. He fought the urge to be sick; the last thing he needed was to vomit inside his helmet.
Returning to Faith, who remained by Yinsen's side, Tony observed her shaking her head in a somber manner. It was evident that Yinsen's condition was deteriorating rapidly. For the first time since donning the armor, Tony spoke, his voice vibrating and sounding distorted due to the electrical equipment encasing him.
"We could've made it. All of us," Tony expressed, his tone filled with regret. "You could've seen your family again."
Yinsen's gaze appeared to focus on Tony or Faith, although he was actually looking two feet to his left. In a weak voice, Yinsen replied, his words punctuated by a bubbling in his throat, "I am going to see them again. They're waiting for me."
It was then that Tony and Faith comprehended the truth. Yinsen had always spoken of his family in a way that led Tony and Faith to believe they were still alive. However, the harsh reality was that Yinsen's loved ones had perished at the hands of the insurgents. As Yinsen gazed into nothingness, it wasn't that he couldn't see Tony or Faith; instead, he was beholding someone else—someone only he could see, beckoning to him, welcoming him with open arms and a serene smile.
With every ounce of strength, he could muster, Yinsen exerted a last, monumental effort. He lifted one trembling hand and placed it atop Stark's gauntlet, while the other hand rested upon Faith's. "This was always the plan," Yinsen whispered, his voice fading as he neared the end. "My life ends here... and your lives together begin here. It begins... by finishing what we started. Finish it..."
"We will," Tony vowed with unwavering determination. "I swear to you, we will."
A gentle smile graced Yinsen's face as he shifted his gaze toward Faith. "Your father loves you," he conveyed to her.
"I know," Faith replied softly, her voice filled with a poignant acknowledgment. And just like that, Yinsen was gone. Faith stood, her hand on her father's gauntlet, and she looked at him, determination burning in her eyes.
"Shall we finish this?" she asked.
Tony met Faith's resolute gaze, recognizing the glint that signaled the awakening of the Slayer within her. "Let's," he agreed, his own anger matching hers.