The desert by day was blisteringly hot, scorching even the bones. But by night, it turned bitterly cold—cold enough to crack stone.
Outside the cave, a group of armed guards huddled around a campfire. They were supposed to be on watch, but instead, they warmed their hands and passed the time with crude banter.
"You think that Tony Stark guy can actually build that missile?"
"Who cares? Whether he finishes it or not, he's dead either way."
"I heard he hooked up with every woman who's ever been on a magazine cover. How many women do you think he's slept with?"
"I don't know, but when we were changing his clothes while he was unconscious, I made sure to check out his—"
The group burst into a fit of vulgar laughter, unaware that they were all already in someone's crosshairs.
> "This is F1, target locked. Awaiting command to fire."
Underneath a camo net, a sniper had his sights set on one of the men by the fire.
> "F2 in position. I've got visual on the valley's lights—ready to take them out."
> "F3 ready..."
Sniper reports came in one after another through earpieces. Lynn Hall, fully geared and now wearing night vision goggles, listened as his team checked in.
"Boss," came Alice's voice, cool and precise. "Drone payloads are armed and in the air. Ready to drop on your mark."
Lynn gave a single nod. "Alright, listen up—our objective is to retrieve Tony Stark. Once the attack starts, the enemy will shift focus to the incoming militia."
"We wait for the chaos. When both sides are locked in combat, we move in and extract Stark."
"Don't engage longer than necessary. Stay sharp and stay alive."
> "Copy that!"
> "Understood!"
Lynn glanced at his watch.
"Execute."
A second later, multiple sniper rifles fired in perfect synchrony.
In the canyon—
The guards around the fire dropped instantly, skulls popping like melons. The valley lights shattered with precision shots, plunging the area into shadow.
Overhead, the drones released their payloads.
Dozens of microbombs rained down, exploding on contact and engulfing the cache of Stark Industries-branded weapons in a fireball.
Booms echoed through the canyon as chaos erupted.
"FOR OUR HOME! TAKE BACK WHAT'S OURS!"
"KILL THESE BASTARDS!"
Militiamen—armed with AKs, submachine guns, and RPGs—rushed into the valley, screaming battle cries as they stormed the enemy compound.
---
Inside the Cave
"Damn it! What's going on out there? Who's attacking us?!"
The group's leader barked orders as explosions thundered outside. He grabbed his sidearm and made for the room where Tony Stark was being held.
"Boss! It's the Hursaq faction—they've launched an all-out attack!"
A scrawny subordinate stumbled in, breathless and panicked.
"The Hursaq? You're sure it's not the damn Americans?"
The leader halted mid-step, glaring. "Are you certain?!"
"Positive! I saw their markings—I know them!"
"Damn it! Should've wiped them out completely when we had the chance!"
Originally, he thought the attack was from U.S. forces. His plan had been to take Stark as a hostage—leverage him to force the Americans to back off.
But if it was just Hursaq?
Tony Stark had no value as a bargaining chip.
"Put more men on Stark's room. No one gets in!"
He didn't wait for confirmation before sprinting toward the battle outside, rallying his fighters.
---
Elsewhere
As the two factions clashed, Lynn Hall and his strike team slipped into the canyon from the opposite direction, navigating the darkness in night vision.
Gunfire rang out—bursts of automatic fire and the crack of suppressed rifles as they quietly eliminated guards in their path.
They reached the cave entrance.
Click.
An agent severed the main power feed. The entire underground network went dark.
---
Inside the Holding Room
"Damn it! Who killed the power?!"
"Get it back online! NOW!"
Amid the confusion, Tony Stark sat in the corner, clutching a worn-out car battery—the device keeping shrapnel from tearing into his heart.
He and Yinsen crouched together, listening as panicked guards shouted in Arabic.
Tony's face was pale, eyes wide with fear.
"What's happening?" he whispered, voice shaking. "Are they always under attack like this?"
Yinsen didn't seem fazed. "It used to be common. Rival factions fighting over land. But ever since they got Stark weapons? No one's been able to touch them."
Tony let out a long breath, trying to calm his nerves.
He was about to say something—anything to distract himself—when the sound of gunfire exploded just outside the door.
Thud-thud-thud!
Clack.
Thump.
The door burst open. Muzzle flashes lit the dark room like strobe lights as shots rang out.
Tony flinched and buried his face in the battery, heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the chaos.
He was sure this was it—either the terrorists would kill him in the confusion, or whoever broke in would shoot first and ask questions never.
He squeezed his eyes shut and silently prayed.
And then—silence.
A calm, confident voice broke through the darkness.
"Tony Stark?"
Tony's breath hitched.
He didn't respond right away—was it a trap?
Then came the voice again, this time with a touch of warmth.
"Don't worry. I'm Lynn Hall, Assistant Director with the FBI's New York Field Office. I'm here to get you out."
"Can you move? Because if you can, we need to go—right now."
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