Chapter 6

Five days after the terrorists' unexpected visit, Tony's arm was still in a sling. His shoulder hurt, and Tony dared not move it much.

"You're only human," Pepper used to say when he complained about how long it took to recover from an injury like that.

Far more annoying were the constant headaches that came with the concussion. They would last for a while, Romanoff had predicted when they had spoken again after the entire property had been inspected. In fact, the agents had made themselves truly more invisible and, to Tony's great relief, never set foot inside the house. They kept watch outside and followed him in a separate car whenever he left the property.

Despite Tony's injuries, Pepper could not be persuaded to cancel the numerous meetings.

"You didn't even need to see a doctor, so I see no reason why you can't work," she said on the way home from an extremely long appointment, and he understood the pointed remark.

Tony looked out of the window of the Rolls Royce. It had been raining all day, so it was a little chilly. The streets of Los Angeles were busy; it was rush hour. Happy presented them with one curse after another about these "damn incompetent wannabe drivers" and Pepper, who sat next to Tony in the back, gave him a reproachful look each time, which Tony noted with quiet amusement.

Tony still didn't have a clear idea of where he wanted to take the company. He knew he wanted to focus on energy technologies, but he hadn't given much thought to how to make that happen. A decision had to be made, but he felt blocked. His head was full of so many other things that seemed far more important. And potential investors were surprisingly quickly satisfied when they heard words like "energy turnaround," "environmentally friendly," "modern technologies," and "high turnover".

A short time later, they were back at Tony's house. While pouring himself a cup of coffee, Tony listened to Pepper and Happy's unfinished argument, which must have started after they ran the first red light ("Orange! It was definitely still orange, Pepper! Maybe you should make an appointment with an eye specialist!").

"This isn't about being right, it's about morality and decency!" he heard Pepper say.

"Of course... It's always about morality with you," Happy countered wearily.

Tony couldn't help but chuckle as he watched them. Poor Happy, he thought, there was no way he was going to win an argument with Pepper once she started talking about morality.

"I just wonder what your problem is," Pepper said, throwing both arms in the air and gesticulating wildly.

"I don't have a problem!" Happy replied. "You're the one making a fuss!"

They got as far as that when Jarvis interrupted.

"Mr. Stark, in Los Angeles, outside the Griffith Observatory, a self-proclaimed member of the Ten Rings is holding a young boy hostage. He hasn't made any demands yet. I suspect, therefore, that he is waiting for you."

Silence fell. Happy and Pepper looked reflexively in his direction. Tony stood quietly for a moment, then headed for his workshop, tearing the sling from his arm as he ran.

Minutes later, the city of Los Angeles stretched out beneath him. Rain pelted his armor with a metallic sound as he flew toward Griffith Park. He tried to ignore the pain in his shoulder and concentrated on reaching his destination as quickly as possible.

And then, right on the ground of the observatory, he saw a group of over a hundred people standing in a semicircle around two more people, the suspected terrorist and the child. There were police cars with flashing lights in the middle of the crowd and he could see cops pointing guns at the terrorist and trying to get the crowd of bystanders to back off.

Tony landed inside the circle at a safe distance. Five cops were right next to him with their guns raised, visibly nervous. The terrorist was clearly holding some kind of detonator, and Tony noticed with a sinking feeling that a strap with a small bag of explosives was tied around the boy's chest.

"Jarvis?" Tony muttered.

"A remote detonator, Sir," Jarvis explained, who immediately had understood Tony's request. "If the terrorist releases the button, the charge explodes. He has to hold it down permanently."

The people behind Tony all seemed to sigh in relief because of his presence, some of them were enthusiastically calling his name.

"Hello Iron Man," the terrorist also shouted.

Tony tried to analyze the situation. This had something to do with him, but what role had the Ten Rings assigned him?

"What do you want?" Tony asked, not taking his eyes off the boy. He could hardly be more than twelve. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks; he was too scared to make a sound. The terrorist grabbed his hair and grinned maliciously.

"What do you want?!" Tony shouted again.

"Nothing, really," the terrorist shouted, laughing.

What? Fear washed over Tony, what does that mean?

"We just want to see you suffer, Stark, that's all. And you will suffer, tin can man, you will."

Tony raised his hand in reply and his repulsor charged menacingly.

"You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?" the man said, holding up the detonator. "One false move and I'll blow his heart out of his chest."

"Jarvis," Tony muttered. "What kind of detonator is this?"

"Hard to analyze from distance. It's likely to be a low-explosive device placed right at this boy's heart. So when this man says he's going to blow his heart out of his chest, I'm afraid he does mean it literally, Sir."

"And if I just knock him out now?"

"Then he'll let go of the button and the bomb explodes."

Tony lowered his hand again.

"Good boy," the terrorist sneered, pushing the kid slightly away from him.

"Let him go!" Tony shouted without much hope. "I thought this is about me!"

"It is. So don't worry. Nothing will happen to the kid if you do what I tell you: take off that armor."

"What?"

The crowd was suddenly completely quiet. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.

"Take off that armor. You have ten seconds until I release the button."

Tony stared at him. Was he kidding? If he stepped out of the suit, the terrorist would kill him instantly. Maybe even by an accomplice, somewhere in the crowd behind him.

"You know I won't do that. You'll kill me if I take it off."

"And what if I give you my word that you won't die today?"

"Then I wouldn't believe you, of course!"

"We still want the suit. Without your armor, you are nothing more than human. Without your armor, you are nothing. We don't care about you."

Tony thought feverishly for a way out. What should he do? He didn't believe a word the terrorist said. He had angered Raza too much not to care. Or was it really all about Iron Man? But he wouldn't give up his armor either.

"You have my word that you will not die today. Besides, you don't have a choice - or do you want everyone here to see how cowardly you rather let the kid die than just take off your armor? I'm counting... ten... nine..."

Tony broke out in a sweat. Whatever he was going to do now would be wrong. And the people around him would be witnesses. Was that what this was all about, perhaps?

"Six... five..."

"Don't do that, Mr. Stark!" one of the police officers beside him shouted.

"And what about the child?" a policewoman next to him asked.

Tony's hand wandered to a small notch on the side of his suit. He hesitated.

"Three..."

"Sir, I have to point out to you that this idea is -" Jarvis said.

"No time for that," Tony said, pulling the notch.

The armor opened and Tony stepped out. The people behind him shouted excitedly.

The policemen stepped closer to him and the policewoman who had just spoken to him stood in front of him. He felt instant affection for this woman and her courage.

"Good day, Tony Stark," the terrorist greeted him again. "It's much more polite that way, isn't it?"

Tony was silent. He was gripped by fear. He felt naked and helplessly exposed, as if on a platter. It was the rain to be enough to show him that nothing stood between him and the outside world anymore. Nothing was any longer between him and some bullet that was now so easy to fire at him.

"You still have my word. I won't kill you."

This did little to reassure Tony. He didn't even have a weapon anymore.

"So," the terrorist shouted louder, so everyone could hear him. "Iron Man couldn't help you today! So let's see if Tony Stark can."

Tony clenched his hands. Whatever was about to happen, he was afraid it wouldn't end well. Because it simply couldn't. And Tony suddenly understood. He had been lured here for one purpose. To fail. To show the world that Iron Man could fail, and to show that without Iron Man, Tony Stark was nothing more than an ordinary, insignificant man with no superpowers.

"You have no idea how much Raza hates you," the terrorist said more quietly, so that only the front rows could hear. Then he spoke louder.

"Tony Stark has thirty seconds to get this innocent kid's belt off. Doesn't sound too hard, does it?"

Tony was standing maybe fifteen feet away from him; that couldn't be a good sign, this was too easy. Would the bomb explode when he took it off? Jarvis had at least told him that the explosive power was low, probably too low to hurt him if he approached the boy. He'd have to take a closer look at the explosive to decide how to disarm it. But would thirty seconds be enough?

"What's the catch?" he asked, trying to play for time.

The terrorist shrugged and smirked.

"Thirty... twenty-nine... twenty-eight..."

"Mr. Stark..." the policewoman said, giving him an alarmed look. "Don't go. It must be a trap."

But Tony sprinted away, past her outstretched arm. He heard her scream behind him. But he had no choice. With every step he took, he got closer to the boy who had his arms outstretched pleadingly for him.

Tony reached him in about ten seconds. Then there was a loud bang. The boy fell toward him, and Tony caught him and got down on his knees with him. The boy's mouth was open in a silent scream, blood was running from a circular wound on his forehead, clearly a bullet hole; the boy's eyes were wide open in shock. He was dead. Tony's eyes immediately slid to the boy's chest. The device was intact.

No...

Tony raised his head and looked at the terrorist, who still held the detonator in his hand. The terrorist opened his coat to reveal another, larger explosive device. The detonator was obviously meant for this belt. This meant that the boy had been shot by someone on the outside.

Sirens sounded, announcing more police.

"You have no idea how much Raza hates you," the terrorist repeated, but now there was also some fear in his eyes. He was obviously preparing for what he was about to do.

Police officers now stormed the square, guns pointed at the terrorist, but it was too late anyway. Tony wasted no more time. He let go of the child and ran, away from the terrorist.

The next moment, a huge explosion shook the earth. Flames several feet high erupted in all directions. Reflexively, Tony raised his arms to protect himself, but caught in the blast wave, he flew and crashed backwards into the windshield of a car.

The pressure of the blast crashed against his body in such a way that all of the air was forced out of his lungs. Shards of glass rained down on him. From one second to the next, there was dead silence.

With a sudden rush of panic, he feared the last day of this world had come, but then the earth shook again, accompanied by bloodcurdling screams.

Tony dared not look at anything but the gray, rainy sky, which was increasingly obscured by thick, black clouds of smoke. There was a heavy humming around him, so he covered his ears. Astonished, he realized that it made no difference. The buzzing seemed to be right inside his head.

The thick cloud of smoke made Tony cough. He tried to sit up. Splinters crunched underneath him, cutting into his flesh. He didn't feel anything.

Tony wondered if he was in shock. He could dimly see several figures lying on the ground, many of whom also seemed to be wandering aimlessly.

Carefully, he braced himself with his hands and slowly slid off the car as more shards of glass cut into his skin. His feet reached the ground, he shifted his weight slightly forward - and collapsed. Tony's legs immediately gave way, and he didn't even have a chance to use his arms to break the fall.

For a moment it went dark around him.

Screams, cries, sirens - unspeakable noise. The darkness gave way to a horrific scenario. Tony lay on his stomach, his head turned to the side. He could still see people through the smoke. Some were screaming, whether from pain or shock was unclear.

With what strength he had left, Tony pulled himself up, coughing. He held on to the police car whose windshield he had apparently landed in. Dazed, he paused and continued coughing, his lungs burning.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Stark."

Tony looked through the smoke, trying to comprehend what had happened.

"Stark," the voice repeated, tightening its grip on his shoulder. "Come this way."

He let himself be led away. The smoke cleared. Flashing lights appeared. Police and ambulances were on the square. Some people already appeared to be receiving medical attention.

"Get in the car."

Tony turned his head. Only now did he notice Agent Romanoff, who had led him to a black Cadillac. She opened the rear car door.

"Get in," she repeated.

She gave Tony a gentle shove as he did not respond. Tony sat down in the back of the car and looked at Romanoff in confusion.

"Stay in here. We'll take care of the rest."

She slammed the door and suddenly it was dark through the tinted windows.

He still could hear people screaming. Did more people die? Besides the boy?

He tried to sort his thoughts. He had done what the terrorist had asked, and the boy had died anyway. And who knew who else? Neither Iron Man nor Tony Stark had been able to stop one man. A child had died. Because Raza had tried to hurt him. It was so unfair.

The passenger door opened and Agent Romanoff got into the car. She turned to him and immediately put on an angry face.

"Are you hurt?" she asked in a harsh tone, lowering her eyes to his hands, which were covered in blood.

"I... I don't know," Tony answered honestly.

"Okay. We'll get you checked as soon as we can leave the place."

Romanoff seemed to control herself only with difficulty. She repeatedly opened her mouth and then closed it again. Finally, it did burst out of her.

"What were you thinking, taking off that suit?!" she exclaimed loudly. "It's a miracle you're even sitting here in front of me now!"

Tony just looked at her, unable to speak. He was still trying to understand what just had happened. The shock was intense and deep-seated in every part of his body.

"Did you really think they would give you a chance? Do you have a death wish or something?!"

Tony lowered his eyes, still unable to speak. Romanoff seemed to realize he was in shock, because she abruptly changed her tone and looked at him almost gently.

"No matter what you did today, you couldn't have saved him. It's not your fault. Even if you had shot the terrorist in the beginning, the bomb would have gone off when the terrorist took his hand off the detonator, killing the boy standing next to him. The boy was hit by a sniper from somewhere nearby, he would have died anyway. Nothing could have stopped it." She rolled her eyes, as if to show how far-fetched it was for her to say such a thing to him. "It was clear from the beginning that they were both going to die." She looked a little angrier now. "Still, how could you take off that suit..."

He had the feeling that he was slowly drifting away. The dull buzzing in his ears intensified this feeling and he couldn't feel his body anymore.

"Okay, Stark," Romanoff said, now even more concerned. "Now, just take a breath. Come on, take a deep breath. Stay with me."

Tony did as he was told and tried to concentrate on breathing. Gradually he could feel his heart rate slowing a little and some feeling returning to his limbs. But it was mostly pain.

"Raza... I..." Tony tried to say, but fell silent again.

"We'll deal with Raza soon enough. First, let's get out of here before the cops get the idea of inviting us in for questioning. Our agents are collecting your armor right now, then we'll be on our way."

"Okay."

"However, if anyone grabs an important piece, Fury will make the rest of your life a living hell, believe me."

But it took only a few minutes for the suit to be safely stowed in the trunk and the car to start moving.

"I'm sure I have everything," said the agent who was driving.

"Well, at least that's something," Romanoff said, slumping back in her seat in relief.

"Fury wouldn't have made just my life a living hell, huh?" Tony said, glad to find his voice again. And to his surprise, Romanoff turned around again and smiled briefly at him.