Then...

  A flash at the cave entrance.

  A split second of bright white light.

  A deep, concussive thud rolled through the gorge like thunder.

  Dust and debris blasted out of the cave mouth, a pressure wave slamming into the camp hard enough that I felt it in my teeth. Men shouted. Someone screamed. Alarms cut harshly through the night.

  The camp exploded into motion.

  I froze for half a second, heart hammering, ears ringing.

  Then training kicked in.

  This is it.

  I brought the rifle up, checked the magazine by feel full, then racked it once to be sure. Setting the Selector to single. I didn't have infinite ammo.

  I edged away from the truck, keeping low, slipping behind a stack of crates as voices rose around me. Boots pounded the dirt and Someone fired blind into the dark, as the tracers snapped overhead.

  Another blast shook the cave mouth, closer this time, followed by yelling and the sound of metal tearing free from rock.

  I shifted position, climbing over debris to get a better angle. From here, I could see the mouth of the cave clearly.

  Fire erupted in a sustained wash, a roaring stream of flame poured out of the cave entrance like something alive. It swept across the men closest to the opening. They didn't even have time to scream properly. They ran, flailing, weapons dropped, silhouettes writhing as fire clung to them and consumed them.

  The heat hit me even from this distance.

  Then it stepped out.

  Seven feet tall. Heavy and Crude. Beautiful in an industrial way.

  The armor wasn't sleek or elegant. It was raw metal, welded plates bolted together with no concern for aesthetics. Thick chest plating with a bright white circular core burning at its center.

  Massive arms ending in oversized gauntlets. Legs built like pistons. The helmet was featureless except for two glowing slits and rectangular holes resembling a twisted smile, it turned slowly as it surveyed the camp.

  Well, would you look at that...

  Iron Man.

  Gunfire erupted from all sides. Rounds sparked and pinged off the armor, ricocheting uselessly. Stark raised one arm and swept it sideways. Another blast of flame roared out, carving a burning arc through the camp.

  Men dropped and wailed as they were burned alive. Others dove for cover. Chaos layered on chaos.

  I didn't wait.

  I stepped out from behind the crate, dropped to a lower stance, and fired.

  One shot.

  One man down.

  Another shot, a shoulder hit, he spun and fell.

  I advanced between bursts of gunfire, keeping low, moving when they were distracted by Stark. The terrorists were scrambling now, shouting orders, trying to regroup.

  I fired again, taking another down.

  "STARK!" I yelled. "TONY STARK!"

  The metal head snapped toward me.

  I kept firing, dropping another man who tried to flank me, then reloaded fast, mag out, mag in, bolt, hands moving on muscle memory.

  The armored figure started walking toward me, heavy footsteps thudding into the ground.

  "What...are you... ?" Stark's voice came through the helmet, muffled and distorted.

  "Eli!" I shouted back. "U.S. Army! Combat medic! Where's Yinsen?"

  A beat. Another blast of flame behind him.

  "He's..." Stark paused, turning as more men rushed from the cave, "..still inside!"

  Right on cue, I saw Yinsen.

  He burst from the cave entrance, coughing, clothes scorched, clutching something tight to his chest. Firelight flickered across his face as he sprinted downhill toward us, eyes wide, terrified but determined.

  "Ride's over there!" I yelled. "GO... now!" pointing at the truck behind me.

  Stark glanced over my shoulder at the armored suit, then at the truck. Then back at the suit again.

  "…Yeah," he said dryly. "This is going to be a problem."

  I covered Yinsen, firing at two men who broke from cover to chase him. One went down. The other dove away. Stark stepped in front of us, arms raised, taking fire that would've shredded us otherwise.

  Yinsen reached us, gasping.

  "Go!" I shouted. "Get in the Truck, move!"

  We ran.

  Stark climbed into the truck bed first, and the suspension immediately groaned under the armor's weight. The back end sagged hard, tires whining under the sudden load.

  "Oh, come on," Stark muttered. "I'm not that heavy."

  "Ditch it, Stark!" I yelled.

  "I know, I know!" He grabbed at the chest plating, fingers scrabbling for bolts. "I knew I should've finished the propulsion system."

  Yinsen scrambled up beside him, hands flying as he helped wrench loose panels. Armor clanged against the metal bed as pieces were thrown aside.

  Gunfire snapped closer now. The Ten Rings were recovering, fanning out, taking aimed shots.

  I turned and fired at the nearest group in full auto, forcing them back behind cover. Another reload. My chest burned, lungs screaming as adrenaline masked the worst of it.

  "We have to leave now!" I shouted again. "Now!"

  Stark wrenched the helmet free with a grunt and tossed it aside. The arc reactor dimmed slightly as more weight came off his chest. He staggered, caught himself on the side of the truck, then climbed back up into the bed.

  This time, the suspension held.

  "There!" he said, breathless but sharp. "Good enough!"

  I reached them in a few long strides, heart pounding. Yinsen was already halfway into the cab.

  "You drive?" I shouted.

  "Yes!" he yelled back.

  He shoved something into my hand as he slid behind the wheel.

  The sat phone.

  I laughed, a short, sharp bark that surprised even me, then clapped him once on the chest. "My man."

  Gunfire cracked closer. Bullets sparked off the truck's side.

  I spun, raised my rifle, and fired at the remaining trucks. The rounds punched through the tires, blowing them up and sending dust flying.

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  There could be more trucks, but...

  Yinsen floored it.

  The truck tore onto the rocky road, suspension screaming, tires skidding over loose stone. We dove into the bed as shots chased us, rounds whining overhead.

  "Holy... !" Stark shouted as the truck lurched hard left, then right.

  "Hold on!" I grunted, hitting my ribs on the edge of the truck, then bracing myself against the side as the road dipped sharply. My ribs protested violently, pain flaring hot and bright.

  The camp vanished behind us, swallowed by darkness and dust.

  For a moment, it looked like we might actually make it.

  Stark crawled over beside me, breathing hard, soot smeared across his face. Even in the moonlight, I could see he looked exactly like Robert Downey Jr. It was unsettling, like seeing a movie character step out of the screen and ask you for directions.

  He glanced at me. "Okay," he said, voice still cracking with adrenaline. "What now?"

  I looked up over the tailgate.

  I could see headlights popping up in the dark, rocky wilderness around us. Just as I thought, they had more vehicles.

  "Don't stop," I yelled toward the cab.

  "OK!" Yinsen called back.

  I pulled the sat phone up, thumb already jabbing at buttons.

  The truck hit a rock. My shoulder slammed into the metal side.

  The phone beeped.

  "Welcome to Iridium Global Network. For English, press one. Para Espa?ol—"

  "Come on, come on... " I mashed buttons with my thumb, nearly dropping the phone as the truck bounced again.

  "GEOS International Emergency Response. This call is recorded. What is the nature of your emergency?"

  "This is U.S. Army Specialist Calderon, 10th Battalion!" I shouted over the engine and gunfire. "We just escaped terrorist captivity with civilian VIP Anthony Stark! We need immediate extraction!"

  "Sir, for military personnel recovery, please provide your authentication code or transfer to DoD PR line."

  "I don't have the goddamn code!" I yelled. "We're in a truck twenty klicks northeast of Safi Village! Hostiles in pursuit!"

  "One moment, transferring you to U.S. CENTCOM Personnel Recovery Cell. Please hold."

  The line clicked.

  Elevator music started.

  Some tinny, cheerful pop remix that had no business existing in this situation.

  I stared at the phone in disbelief.

  Stark leaned closer, eyes unfocused but sharp. "Tell them," he said dryly, "I'll buy the whole network if they pick up faster."

  "I swear to God... " I screamed into the phone. "This is an emergency extraction! We have the guy who makes our weapons!"

  Another click.

  A new voice, harried, clipped, American. An Air Force major who sounded like he hadn't slept in days.

  "JPRA, authenticated line. State your position and code, please."

  "I..." I swallowed. "I don't know the code, man!"

  The major sighed audibly.

  Before I could dig myself deeper, Stark reached out and took the phone.

  He dialed a number from memory.

  One ring. Two.

  "Jarvis, you there, buddy?"

  A calm, refined British voice answered.

  "Good evening, sir. I am glad to hear your voice again. How may I be of assistance?"

  I felt my knees go weak with relief.

  "Buddy," Stark said, slumping slightly. "I need you to triangulate my position and call Rhodey."

  "Of course, sir. One moment."

  The line split.

  Another voice came through, urgent, disbelieving, very familiar.

  "Tony?" James Rhodes said. "Tony, is that you? We've been searching everywhere!"

  "Hey, Rhodes," Stark said. "Long story. Slight kidnapping. Need a pickup."

  I took the phone back. "Sir, this is Specialist Calderon. We need immediate air support. We're under pursuit."

  "Copy that," Rhodes said, all business now. "Jarvis, can you feed me the coordinates ?"

  "GPS lock confirmed, sir. Coordinates transmitting now."

  The truck swerved hard as rounds slammed into the tailgate.

  "Keep driving," Rhodes said. "We've got you. Just stay alive."

  Stark leaned over, grinning despite the blood and soot. "Get me out of here, Buddy."

  "Us, Stark," I corrected dryly. "Get us out of here."

  Stark snorted. "Right. Team effort."

  Behind us, headlights flared closer.

  Two vehicles burst onto the road, engines screaming, gunmen leaning out the windows, firing wildly.

  I rolled onto my stomach and opened fire, aiming for engines, tires, anything to slow them down. Bullets sparked, glass shattered, but they kept coming.

  Stark watched for a second, then nudged me. "You got an extra gun?"

  I tossed him the M9. "You know how to shoot?"

  He looked at me like I'd insulted him. "I'm Tony Stark."

  He leaned out and emptied the magazine in a rapid, chaotic burst. Shots went everywhere. One might've hit something important.

  He clicked the empty pistol. "Another mag?"

  I stared at him, unimpressed. "Seriously?"

  He flashed a sheepish grin. "Worth asking."

  The air changed.

  A distant roar cut through the night, low, angry, unmistakable.

  An A-10.

  I looked up just in time to see something streak overhead.

  "Is that..." Stark started.

  BRRRR_TTTTT!!!_

  The sound tore through the gorge like God ripping canvas.

  The pursuing truck vanished in a storm of dust, fire, and shredded metal. The second swerved wildly, then exploded under a second pass.

  Silence followed, broken only by our engine and the ringing in my ears.

  I slumped back against the truck bed, breath shaking.

  I laughed. Loudly.

  "That's the sound of freedom, Stark" I said hoarsely.

  Stark stared at me, then laughed too.