Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He didn’t even flinch when the bullet struck the wall an inch above his right ear, letting plaster and dust rain down on him. His own weapon was out and he returned the fire in kind, not too bothered with aiming, just with keeping the soldiers back as long as possible for them to do what they had come to do. “Natasha? Any minute now!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Don’t get impatient, tovarishch,” she called back, her voice sounding clear and calm in the hallway, just as always.

“Easy for you to say, sweetheart,” he shouted and dived out of the way when the next soldier came around the corner and fired at him. “And don’t call me tovarishch. We’re not even supposed to know each other. Marvels is selling bad enough as it is with this damn war on. The last thing I need is someone thinking I’m secretly a communist sympathizer. The other friendly capitalists would never let me live that down, believe me.”

Somewhere down the corridor and over the sound of gunfire he heard her breathy laugh. “We’re allies in this, Tony. But I’m sure you’re right. Industrialists make bad communist in my experience. But you’ve come a long way playing the anarchist. I’m proud of you.”

He laughed, startling one of the soldiers in front of him, allowing Tony to take him out with a well aimed kick, picking up his rifle as it fell, before diving behind a wall for cover.

Working with Natasha reminded him of why it was so much better to share the excitement. He appreciated someone who loved a good adventure at his side, appreciated to have someone at his back who was trustworthy and capable. And it was nice to have someone like Natasha with him on this - someone with the right expertise and knowledge, someone with the guts to do what needed to be done when orders hadn’t come in yet. Good soldiers where very often the worst kind of adventurers, but Natasha was exactly the kind of companion he wanted on his team on a mission - and it had been a nice surprise to see her when he’d arrived at the rendezvous point. When Fury had told him he had a mission for Tony, talk had only been of a Russian operative who would help him locate the German facility where scientists were working on a new long range guided missile system that had the potential to be decide the war in Germany’s favor if it ever saw the light of day. Tony had taken the mission because every scientist involvement meant there was a chance that the Hydra division was involved, a chance for him to get closer to Strucker and his crazy plans of world domination and bottle made horror and put a lid on it. Tony had met some evil men in his time, had fought against bandits and people ready to kill for money, gold and fame, people who were ready to deceive and murder you in your sleep after you did the dirty work for them. He’d met people who were cruel not as a means to an end, but because cruelty had become their way of life. And even after all this Hydra and the sort of people the division recruited always managed to remind him that their cruelty went beyond anything that he could ever have imagined.

That was why he was here. To get one step closer to taking them down. That was why he’d agreed to this mission easily and without asking too many questions. Had he known before that he would be meeting up with the lovely Natasha Romanova again, well, he would have agreed even faster, because he and Natasha were old friends.

And it was always nice to see a true professional at work.

With one hand he pulled the pull ring from his hand grenade and then threw it down the corridor while with the other he had pushed a down a lever that would seal the doors to the inner labs behind them. Before the gate had even reached the floor he was after Natasha.

He found her standing in the middle of one of the clinically white lab rooms. “The labs are empty, Tony,” she said, with something that came close to a frown. “But there are… corpses.” She pointed at a big door down the hallway. He wasn’t used to seeing her give any sign of fear or insecurity and that was what he thought he saw in the gesture. It made him nervous. “I was told to find Vanko and destroy the long range missile plans. There was no word about human experiments,” she continued, her voice carrying a level of accusation.

If she had found what her words were suggesting the she was confirming some of his worst fears about Hydra. But nobody had warned him about that either. Nobody had even mentioned anyone but the scientists and guards being here. “If my side knew about this they didn’t tell me either.”

Natasha looked him over, very unsubtly trying to read him. “Then perhaps they really didn’t know.”

He wanted to believe it. But Natasha’s full lips were pursed up in disgust or distaste and Tony had a feeling that he wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t be surprised if this information had been withheld on purpose. They were only the blunt instruments here while other people were pulling the strings behind the lines — and not all the people trying to win this war were better than the ones they were fighting. Soldiers and politicians weren’t always Tony’s favorite types of people for a reason.

Outside the shouting had died down, but it was only a matter of time until the soldiers would come back, breaking down the security doors. The amount of time they had to take this place apart would not be enough to give it more than a cursory glance. They were very much on a tight schedule here. Destroying the missile launch system was the top priority.

“This is Dr. Vanko’s handwriting,” Natasha said, after looking around carefully, and she took down a paper that had been pinned to a board on the wall to Tony’s left. With a frown Tony looked over the rest of the papers. It looked like a design for an armored suit, much bulkier and clunkier than his own, but also bigger in size. That didn’t bode well.

“So you know they have him now. That the kind of proof you were looking for?”

Natasha nodded. “That and more. But they’ve moved him. If he ever was here he isn’t here any longer. I won’t be able to retrieve him and that was part of my objective.” No hint of regret or fear crept into her tone this time, just the slightest hint of annoyance. She hated losing just as much as Tony.

Tony went on looking at the papers. He zoomed in on a formula that seemed vaguely familiar, when suddenly he made the connection and froze. “Lautloser Tod” someone had written at the top of the page in his father’s slightly scrawly handwriting. Silent death. He didn’t like the sound of that. Especially not because he had been sent here to find missiles and bombs were rarely silent. This was something else and even more worrying.

He was an expert in the field and his company made a not inconsiderable amount of money by developing and selling weapons. He should know.

From where she was standing Natasha was staring at him. He must have gone pale, when he pieced together what the formula actually was, because now Natasha looked actually unsettled. The scrawly jotted down notes beneath the suggested formula spoke of trials and untested manufacturing processes, so at least it seemed they hadn’t actually made this one work yet. It was all still hypothetical and far away. He found the first Bunsen burner in his vicinity and lit the piece of paper on fire. He just hoped the mind that had thought it up wouldn’t be able to simply reproduce it. Zemo had written over old notes Howard Stark had made in firmer handwriting, before the war, before he’d been taken, and then another handwriting that Tony couldn’t identify had added to it even after that. Somebody else had taken over Howard’s work, so Tony could only hope that meant “Zemo” was really dead for good.

“What was it?”

“A formula,” he said. “For a gas that isn’t detectable and only triggers symptoms much later. Don’t ask. The answer will not be pretty.”

“They wanted to use the missiles for that? Spreading it?” Apparently she had found the plans to the weapon they had been looking for. “They are being assembled here. Or were before we found this place.”

“If we take down this place then it will throw them back at least a year or so. They won’t get to poison our cities and kill thousands of innocents at home. If we’re lucky they’ll never make it work.”

Natasha nodded. “What do we do now?” she asked. And he liked the simplicity of the question.

“We burn it down to the last scrap. The whole facility.”

She grinned. “I like that. Dramatic and efficient. Just like us. And how are we going to do that?”

“We aren’t,” he said. “Iron Man is.”

The proposed illustrations for the newest Tony Stark Adventures still lay on the narrow desk. Pepper had gone through them and approved the one that had Iron Man standing in the middle of a burning building with Tony Stark and a blonde “Natalie” crouched down somewhere outside, watching from their hiding place. It would make a good cover and Tony had mentioned as much to her.

“It’s dramatic,” he said, remembering Natasha’s words to him, and meant that as a good thing. It looked like a good old fashioned adventure cover - the kind they had gone for before the war. The only thing that gave away that it was another war adventure was the swastika flag above above the flames, torn and burning.

It was a good cover. A really good cover.

But for some unfathomable reason Tony didn’t like it very much.

He was so tired of this war. The war adventure Marvels weren't even selling that well – the whole industry was struggling with paper shortages and general changing of the times, or maybe the readership had caught on to the fact that the age of true excitement had been ruined by tyrants and petty bureaucrats who were pushing around their brave boys on the battlefields like they were toys. Tony hoped that it wasn’t true that the times of real adventurers had been snuffed out by war and grief and despair, because not even Depression had managed to snuff it out. In fact Depression had spurred it on, because people had needed heroes more than ever. And wasn't it just right out ironic that war of all things was making people doubt their heroes, making it harder for people to believe in adventure - while every other poster on the streets asked young men to join up and become the next great hero for their country?

After all he'd seen, Tony couldn't really fault anyone out here for losing faith in humanity. True heroes had no place in this war.

But still, he wanted to fight that kind of resigned thinking and made sure Pepper was busy even when there were no new Tony Stark Adventures to write with chronicling the less fictional accounts of their deeds and getting them to the papers at home. There were enough soldiers around who had stories to tell. And Tony himself still got into enough trouble to warrant a chronicler of his own, even if not all the details could go into the papers.

Pepper wasn't complaining. Finally the newspapers bosses were taking her seriously. Even the Bugle was ready to pay her real money, happy to have the byline read Virginia Potts. The war more than Marvels was making her carrier.

He was happy for her, even as he wished that it would be possible for him to go back to simpler times.

Tony had seen death and bloodshed long before he’d set foot on a battlefield. Still war was something else; different from the violence one encountered in a South American jungle, where giant snakes wanted to eat you, Mayan pyramids just came crumbling down to bury you alive and the usual cutthroats thought they'd have an easy time getting one over on you. War wasn't as romantic or heroic as the war stories had always made it seem; the ones he remember hearing from Jarvis and his father's army friends who were quick to pat him on the shoulder and tell him how proud Howard would have been of him if he could see his son now.

None of them with the exception of Jarvis knew, of course, that Howard in some really twisted way had actually been around to see what kind of man his son had grown up to be and that he knew exactly how “valuable” Tony had become... Like the rest of the world they thought his father had died of a war injury when Tony was little, short weeks after coming home. Only a handful of people knew that Howard’s fate had been worse than that and even Tony had only found out years later. It was hard to say if Zemo still remembered enough of the life he’d lived before the serum to understand that he had a son in Tony. But for Tony it mattered. Howard was his father and he would never forget that. Tony was very much here on the frontlines as his old man's son - not just retracing the steps of the man who had fought and suffered in the first great war. No, half his efforts on the front were not so much on winning this war for what was right and proper as they were on making sure that a certain part of the Nazi war machine didn't survive it.

As Howard's son this was very much his personal duty. The revenge he owed both of them.

With a war on, Hydra spies watching his moves and hunting for him, there was danger about him every single day. Everyone would have said this was the kind of life fit for someone like Tony Stark. And still the truth was he missed the simplicity of his previous adventures, the selfish purity of his own childish wish to heal himself. Compared with this urgent need to save the whole world from what it might become if he let Hydra unleash nightmares beyond imagination it had all been so clean and easy back then. The only lives he’d been responsible for where those of the people he dragged along on his crazy expeditions - and his own life, threatened by his failing heart for years, had never seemed all that important. Responsibility was making everything much more complicated now.

Pepper had laughed at him when he’d voiced that thought just days ago. “It’s the army. You just hate to be told what to do, Mr. Stark.”

“I’m no soldier, Pepper,” he’d shot back. Part of him envied Rhodey for falling so easily into this new line of work as exceptional pilot and soldier. Tony had never done well with hierarchies and authority figures. As much as the boy from long ago had wanted to make his father proud, he’d never actually dreamt of following in his footsteps and fighting a war.

“It’s the same, boss,” Rhodey had said. “Risking my neck to keep you safe while you try to kill yourself with another daring scheme or risking myself to keep the free world safe? It’s still risking my neck. And you know I was ready to move on. I would have gone to France anyway. These people need me more than you do.”

And Tony agreed with that to some extent. He’d rather be here in the middle of it all and make a difference, make sure the atrocities that Hydra was cooking up in hidden labs would never be unleashed on the world, than feel the gnawing guilt of being the coward he knew he would have been if he'd taken the next safe expedition to a place far away from Nazi Germany. Still… He missed the real adventures, the ones that had danger and intrigue and a bit of romance on the sidelines; the ones that ended with some insane discovery, some forgotten city, some mystery solved and a bit of treasure that wasn’t worth anything to people just looking for gold and gems and a fortune. It was looking for knowledge that he missed the most.

Finding mass graveyards, being haunted by memories of death and cruelty even in sleep just wasn’t the same.

Or actually it might be that Pepper was right and he simply missed the times when he’d not been anyone’s glorified errand boy, when he’d been his own man, choosing the things he risked his life for and decided how exactly he was going to do the risking; when instead of being the responsible man he was trying to be now – who checked in with his company regularly and who was developing technology that he hoped would make its way into households everywhere in a few years, even while he was sitting in Europe fighting a war – he'd been an irresponsible child running from the fact that he was dying and instead had seen the wonders of the world. Cruelty and intrigue and danger, yes, but also true wonders, ingenuity and legacies worthy to be preserved and live up to. War hadn’t had much of that in store for him so far. He missed the wonder, the excitement, the discovery. But maybe Pepper was right and he missed the independence even more.

At least that would explain why he felt something more than irritation rise inside him the moment General Fury just pushed into the tent without announcing his presence and very much like he owned the place, dragging in all the mud and grime from the outside world that Tony would have rather forgotten about for a minute or two. He looked up, not bothering to stand or salute, and just glared.

“Stark,” Fury barked. “I have a mission for you. Top secret. Hush, hush. I need you to go into...”

He didn’t allow him to finish his sentence, his hackles rising instantly. “Look, general, I'm not your personal undercover secret agent. I don't work for you and I’m not a soldier. You wanted someone to publicly take up fighting to be an example and I am. But I'm my own man, still. We've been over this...”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fury said indifferently, having heard all of it before. “And it helps to have your pretty face pop up in the newsreels and propaganda films, but we both know you're not here to be nothing more than a puppet for the propaganda machine and to fly your brand new plane out over France to deliver some crates of guns and supplies. It looks good on film, but whatever the other generals and our scrambling politicians at home may think about your being here, you're not really a dancing monkey and you’re not really someone who does the jobs every kid from home could do. So, come on then. Stop dancing for them and again do some more hands-on work for me. What’s another little errand? Or do you want me to ask you very nicely, to pack your stuff and go home? What’s wrong? Does your leg hurt? I can have you on the next machine back to New York for recuperation, if that one little mission was too much for you, adventure boy.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. The scar left by the painful, but minor and now mostly healed flesh wound he’d received to his right thigh was testament to the fact that he wasn’t here just to bring his name to the effort and remain passively behind the lines where it was safe, it was just the latest souvenir he'd brought back from another mission Fury had convinced him to go on; just a quick “errand”, not a true mission like the weapon's plant he had torched to the ground as Iron Man.

“You're right, we both know why I'm here and we both know that while I decide to work for you – there's no way that you'll get me to go home before I've done what I came to do. So, do you have any useful information you want to share or are we only meeting up to piss each other off? Because I can do that all day.” Pepper gave him a warning look. As always she was right. They needed Fury’s intelligence network if they wanted to have a chance to get close to Hydra. And he'd be damned if he couldn’t make sure that Strucker didn’t survive this war, just because he’d been too proud to play Nick Fury’s tedious games. Hell, if his father’s body and what was left of his brilliant mind was still trapped by the Zemo formula then he owed it to him to make sure he didn’t survive this time either and put an end to it once and for all.

“From what my agents can tell, the Nazi science division on the west front we were talking about is involved in all the things that give us nightmares, adventure boy. But we already knew that.” Fury stared at him from his good eye, partly amused, partly searching. Fury wasn't stupid and Tony already knew that he wasn't your typical general either. That was why he was working with him in the first place. He was hands-on and smart, and always planning, always one crucial step ahead, and Tony was sure that basically nobody had any idea what he was actually setting into motion behind the scenes next or how many secret operatives he had in the game right now. Nick Fury trusted only one man with all the information — and that was himself. They could all be glad that he was on their side, because if he actually turned on them — well, then it would be worse than bad. He'd worked with the British and French long before the States had even been formally involved in this conflict and he had built up an intelligence network of agents across Europe that probably made him one of the main players on the field these days. The eye patch made him look even more sinister in the dim light of the tent now, but Tony had faced more ferocious looking men all across the globe and wasn’t that easily impressed by the looks of a person. Especially not one looking like a pirate in proper military uniform. He had worked with Namor for far too long. Pirates weren’t exactly a mystery to him. And their attitude wasn’t either.

He could deal with tough guy attitudes.

“There's someone who wants to meet you,” Fury finally declared in a much quieter tone, when Tony wasn't reacting to his jibe about Nazi induced nightmares.

“Meet me?” Tony said, scoffing. Half the army seemed to be after his autograph.

With the soldiers he didn't mind so much. They were simple guys, some of them kids who had come here for a cause that had been held up to them, the possibility of glory perhaps, and who now found themselves in the middle of a real war and found the reality bleak and dangerous. They were excited for Tony Stark from the Marvels adventures to be among them — so excited actually that Stark Industries was making sure the new magazine got to the front and into the hands of their boys in the trenches every month. He was glad to give them a little hope just by being present and it didn't bother him that much when they asked for him to sign a magazine or picture. Occasionally it made getting around camps tedious.

But all the generals and officers that were after the details of his “fighting robots” and hoping to convince him to build more weapons for their side were becoming a real nuisance. Tony was even less inclined than he'd ever been to make his name come to be remembered for that kind of lethal tech. He'd heard about the scientists that the army was gathering to work on bombs and superior artillery. He'd heard of one project in particular when he'd met Reed Richards in New York recently that had worried both of them profoundly. Splitting the atom the physicist in him could get behind – to solve society's growing need for energy, for making space travel possible even in the next two decades and open a new Frontier for adventurers like him – but he didn't even want to think about a world devastated by a weapon making use of that kind of lethal energy. It was enough that the Nazi's were working on the stuff of nightmares, that they were looking into mythical artifacts and lost technology to further their own cause. There was really no need for their own people to add to that.

They would win this war — he'd make sure of it — but not by using the far advanced killing machines that he knew he could build if he put his mind to it. It was lucky that his father’s name would never be officially remembered for the atrocities he must have committed as Zemo, only some of which Tony knew about. He wanted the Stark name to be remembered for better things than that and he was sure the real Howard had felt the same.

“Barnes,” Fury barked. “Come on in. Adventure boy is ready to see you.”

A handsome, young brown haired sergeant, a couple of years younger than Tony himself, but with the old eyes of the experienced soldier, stepped into the tent, looking serious and not at all like a nervous fan who wanted to meet his hero. His brown eyes settled on Tony immediately, going from his mud caked boots to the dirty standard issue army pants he was wearing, to his hands and face, measuring him up like cattle. Not after an autograph, then, Tony mused, grinned and leaned back to show both these men exactly how impressed he was feeling with all this. “What is this about, Fury? You think I'm looking for recruits? You know I work with my own people and that's that.”

But it wasn't his friend, the sneaky bastard general, who answered. “We need your Iron Man now,” the sergeant declared without even bothering with any niceties first, which under different circumstances would have endeared him to Tony right away. He seemed like someone with a temper who'd had quite enough of pussy footing around and who wanted things done now and didn’t care whose toes he would have to step on to get there. And right at this moment Tony was ready to give back as good as he got, because he felt exactly the same way.

Pepper, who was sitting at her typewriter at the little desk in the corner, made a snorting sound as she looked up to asses the situation. Her eyes narrowed and she made a point of looking at Tony, cautioning him, silently warning him not to throw away their chances for information because he was feeling bored. It wasn't new that the army was making requests for his “robot” to be sent on special missions. It wasn't rare for them to actually be looking for either a way to control the “machine” or get their hands on the technology in hopes of cutting out Tony's influence once and for all. But at the very least she wanted him to make these two men lay all their cards on the table — or at least see how much information they were willing to give him, before Tony made them angry. It was the smart thing to do.

“What for?” Tony asked as calmly as possible, giving the handsome young man another none too discrete once-over, trying to gauge what exactly he was after, and in what kind of position a young sergeant like him must be to have Fury's ear on the matter. He'd do better not to underestimate him.

Fury nodded to Barnes, who looked cautiously back and forth between all four of them, suddenly seeming less secure, less brash, his eyes lingering on Pepper for a moment longer than strictly necessary, communicating his unease loud and clear. Apparently he hadn’t expected Tony to have company. Or maybe he hadn't seen a beautiful woman in far too long. Both of these possibilities weren't exactly suited to set Tony’s mind at ease.

“We really don't need to involve someone who is practically a civilian,” Barnes commented in a low voice. “We just need the...”

“You won't get the Iron Man without me. End of story. Fury already knows my stance on this. You want my help, you deal with me, soldier.”

Barnes threw him a look that under other circumstances might have spoken of pure and simple annoyance, but there was a deeper nervousness under the surface, that made Tony sit up and pay attention. Something was going on here and the adventurer in him was instantly interested.

“He's an annoyance sometimes, Barnes,” Fury barked out, “but he's the best man for the job. And he does have the robot. He fights these people, has fought these people for longer than you've even been a soldier. It's him or nobody if you want to go through with this.”

Pepper stood up from her chair, her article forgotten for the moment. She knew all about “these people”, just like Tony did. There was no necessity to spell it out. And Fury had very deliberately put the one piece of information on the table that would pique his interest. And they all knew it — with the exception of surly Sgt. Barnes perhaps.

If Hydra was involved, Tony had to go. After all that was why he was here.

Fury nodded at his companion one more time and Barnes set down his satchel and pulled free a thick manila folder. He stared at it for a long moment, hesitating to pass it on, but then straightened his back and shoulders and threw it down on the surface of the makeshift desk in front of Tony like a gauntlet before the duel. “I really do hope you live up to your legend, Stark,” he said in a rather scathing tone. Tony didn't mind. He was used to that kind of reaction from all the “serious” soldier boys around here, especially those who were aware of his most outrageous exploits described in the “Tony Stark Adventures” and thought him a braggart at best.

He reached for the folder, aware of Pepper stepping up behind him to read over his shoulder. As his chronicler and the person that he very frequently dragged along with him into danger, she had all the right to know what they were getting into next. Barnes still watched her with a drawn expression and Tony was ready to snap at him that he had no business glaring at a person like Pepper, who in Tony's mind wasn't just a beautiful, capable and brave woman, but the picture of integrity.

But whatever was in this file, it was clear that Barnes was nervous about sharing it with anyone so Tony decided to hold his tongue and not antagonize him any further.

“Operation: Shield” was written on the cover. Tony thought that as far as story titles went, this wasn't a bad one. For people who reviled him for having his own life and adventures fictionalized in his own pulp magazine, all the higher-ups in the army seemed to have the right flair for the dramatic when it came to naming their operations.

The first thing that sprang out at him was a picture, a photo on the enlistment documents of a young man. Steven Grant Rogers it said on the file. A stamp in red across it, read “classified”. The man looked slight of build, a bit on the underfed and sickly side, and all too nice and friendly to make the kind of soldier Fury usually recruited. He read quickly through the most important data on the sheet and whistled, looking back at the two men before him. “Who the hell allowed this kid to enlist? His health is worse than mine. Bit frail for a soldier.”

Barnes looked at him with narrowed eyes, probably not sure how to take his comment about his own health. Tony's heart problems weren't exactly something he allowed to come up in Marvels adventures. Vulnerabilities like these were better kept quiet, especially when you had a business to run, and with Stark Industries and Marvels he was running two.

“He has spunk,” Fury replied.

“Man of my heart then,” Tony said and leaned back with a grin. He was already looking through the other papers. Apparently the kid had volunteered to play spy deep in enemy territory after he’d been rejected in the proper medical examination. He whistled again, as he came across the notes on his training. “You made sure he knows what he's doing, that's for sure.”

“I did,” Barnes snapped. “He is my partner. Was, until he took that mission.”

“Taught him how to work explosives? Sabotage? That’s an impressive résumé for someone who would not have been allowed to enlist under normal circumstances.”

“Explosives, intercepting messages, how to use a gun. He was good at all of it. The best.” The young man looked at him proudly. “I don't care what you think about this, but Steve is my friend. He's a good man and a good soldier. And he’s done a better job of helping us win this war than most, health be damned.”

Tony didn't even doubt it for a minute. From what little he had just read, it seemed that most of the commanding officers he’d had had no good word to say about him - “too frail” was the most frequent complaint, but there were also complaints about “willfulness” that made Tony's heart go out to the lanky soldier boy. He knew what it was like to fight your own body, not letting your own shortcomings hinder you when you had set yourself a goal. And, damn, anyone who was declared “willful” by a superior officer and still made Nick Fury notice him to the extent of becoming one of his special projects, must be quite special indeed. “I can tell,” he told Barnes with a lopsided grin.

Pepper silently caught his gaze and quirked an eyebrow, and Tony shrugged. He couldn't help it. They still had no idea what all of this was about, but he already knew he was going to say yes to it. If nothing else, Fury was shoving interesting people at him at least and that was much more than the rest of the army was doing for him at the best of times.

He skipped to the next page, reading down quickly, taking in some of the missions that Steven Rogers had been sent to work on and, yes, he was intrigued. The frail guy had been a good enough cover to send him to Paris before America had ever joined the war, posing as an art student who was trying to get better at his craft. Apparently he'd worked with the British S.O.E. and the budding French resistance movement as an agent for both the U.S. and the Brits next. The papers called him “liaison officer”, which meant he'd been keeping his own government informed, giving them first hand information, before the rest of the army had ever joined up.

“You let him go in under British colors?”

Fury shrugged. “Information makes the world go round, Stark. We knew whatever he could learn would come in handy in some way at some point.”

That was how the spy network worked.

“Code name: Nomad,” he read. “I think I heard of him. He got that British officer out of the prison in Rennes, right? Sounded like an S.O.E. legend to keep the agents happy.”

Barnes nodded, finally looking a little less confrontational.

“Nomad,” Tony said, trying out the name. “Like a man without a country. He’s rather more than that, isn’t he?”

“He thought it was fitting,” Barnes said tightly. “It wasn’t even our war when he started working with the S.O.E. and got ready for work on the continent.”

He nodded. By now, Tony had an idea of where this whole thing was going, had to admit that although he wasn't exactly fond of Fury and his spy games, he thought this soldier here was an oddity and he deserved someone to root for him. If there was still something of him left to root for. Nobody had said anything about the exact nature of the predicament Rogers must be in, and that could mean a number of things, none of them comfortable. “So, you want me to do what exactly? Get your spy out of enemy territory?” he asked without even turning another page. It would be quicker to get the information directly from the source and read up on all the details later. “Isn’t that the kind of extraction the S.O.E. does for all their agents on a regular basis? Why do you think we need the robot for that?” He drew out the word “robot”, always amused at how easy it was to pretend that there was no pilot needed, just a bit of clever remote control. People had been reading altogether too much science-fiction published by people like the idiot Justin Hammer. They were nowhere near close enough to make that happen, not in away that allowed the Iron Man to act as he did.

“Captain Rogers checked in with us every week, using special equipment and encryption that changed every two weeks. We communicated with him via the BBC radio transmissions mostly, through our intelligence network directly only if we had to. He did good work and we didn’t want to jeopardize it by extracting him. As of three weeks ago there has been no contact made by Rogers and his partner in the field fears the worst.”

He filed away the information about special equipment and a partner for later scrutiny and nodded at Fury to go on. None of this explained Fury's willingness to involve him in one of his spy missions. The missions he reserved for Tony always involved science, always involved trouble that made someone with a good knowledge of technology and current research an asset. Sometimes he called Tony in because he just needed someone who could act on his own without any military orders having to be issued. But he had hinted at Hydra involvement and Tony suspected that was why he was here. He wished they would get to the point already, so that he knew what he was agreeing to. “And that is why Barnes thinks he needs to get my Iron Man to stage a rescue mission? Not your usual style, Nick. A bit visible, don’t you think? So why the hell are you here and what do you really want from me?”

Fury reached forward and skipped to the final documents in the file. He was still standing, because Tony had very deliberately not offered a chair to either of his guests, but he was coming to regret that now with Fury hovering over him. There was a picture of Rogers wearing a long coat his lean form was nearly drowning in, talking to a dark haired, bespectacled and nervous looking man. “This,” Fury said slowly. “Is Dr. Erskine. He has been forcefully recruited by the Nazis to work on what they call Operation Wiedergeburt.”

Rebirth? he thought. What the hell are they working on now? Surely this couldn’t be about bringing back Zemo… If they weren’t recruiting and poor Erskine had been chosen as successor, then it was too late for him anyway. “Forcefully recruited means kidnapped? I get the picture,” he said instead of voicing his thoughts.

“He’s a British citizen. We had him on the list of potential traitors when he did not report back to our London science division. Rogers found him and made contact when it became clear that he’d been kidnapped and forced to work for the Nazis. They were holding his family at the time; his Jewish wife and their two daughters. Before we lost contact Rogers helped our operatives in Paris to locate them and break them out.”

“They are safe and sound in England now and owe Steve their lives,” Barnes added, as if he thought he still needed to make a point about Rogers. Which he didn’t at this point. Tony could appreciate this kind of life and death situation, could appreciate a man who had gone seeking adventure and might have very well ended up sacrificing himself for someone else.

“And that is when you lost contact? After the family was out of the occupied zone?”

“Not on the day, but a few days after. Rogers checked in twice during the operation and once after, to make sure everything was going well. Then he told his partner that he was going back to make sure they wouldn’t kill Erskine. That’s the last anyone heard of him.”

Barnes was looking nervous, agitated, but he kept silent, staring at the file and the pictures, but not meeting Tony’s eyes. Finally, Tony thought, he had a good handle on him and his motives. If he was genuine, he was worried for a close friend. If he wasn’t — which Tony had learned was always a possibility — then he was a darn good actor.

So Tony latched on to the next bit of information he needed: “What’s Erskine’s specialty? Any hint what Operation Rebirth is all about? They’re not raising an army of un-dead, I hope. That would be… inconvenient.”

The silence that descended over the tent was eerie and made a chill run up his back. The name “Zemo” ghosted through his mind like a warning, but he tried to shake himself and get rid of the warning bells. But the fact that even Fury didn’t seem unfazed by the information he was about to reveal was worrying. More than worrying.

“He’s a doctor. He was developing a vaccine that was meant to enhance strength when the army recruited him. In London he worked on a secret super-soldier program.”

“Super-soldier?” Tony asked slowly. He was an engineer and stayed clear of most of the science that involved trying to enhance the human race for battle purposes without caring about the consequences, but for the longest time he’d been looking for a cure for his ailing heart and he’d come across more than one crazy scheme to create super humans, “Übermenschen”. So far he was sure most of them had been spurred on by fiction more than science, but the idea that Hydra might be working on creating a physically enhanced army was a nightmare worse than the un-dead.

He stared at Fury hard, daring him to finally come out and say why he’d come to Tony with all this in the first place. But Fury just stared back and made no move to talk. Barnes looked grave and slightly pale now, too. Apparently they were all imagining exactly what a breakthrough on the front of human enhancement for the Nazis would mean for their war effort.

“Why come to Tony with this? Don’t you have your own spies who can work this?” Pepper asked, apparently now just as fed up with the dancing around the issue they were doing as Tony. They had been cautious not to let anything slip about Hydra and their personal vendetta against them, but at some point Fury would learn of it. It was likely he already did know and was waiting for Tony to come clean about it. Still they could never be sure how many German spies were in their own camp and so Pepper, Rhodey and Tony were always cautious when Hydra information was brought to them, making their search too easy, too convenient.

There was no doubt in his mind that they were still after him — for Zemo related reasons perhaps, but most likely to get revenge, to make it close, painful and personal.

“There is something else,” Fury finally admitted and Barnes’ head snapped up. “I’m not here to appeal to your bleeding heart and go save the little guy. He might already be dead or on his way to the other side.”

Barnes bit his lip hard to refrain from shouting and Tony didn’t miss the moment of struggle he went through. “Someone is using his call-sign,” he ground out.

Fury nodded. “They might have gotten to him, Barnes. Torture is part of the game.”

The sergeant closed up immediately. He wanted his friend to be alive. He wanted a chance to get him out and not be too late. But Tony hadn’t missed a beat of their tense by-play and he threw a covert look over at Pepper who hadn’t missed it either. Barnes was here for personal reasons. Fury was here for something else.

Finally Fury reached into his army coat and pulled free a small brown notebook with well-worn brown leather binding and threw it down on the desk on top of the open file of Steven Rogers. “This is why I came to you, Stark. This should be right up your alley.”

Barnes eyed it with as much interest and apprehension as Tony and Pepper did. Obviously Fury hadn’t shared this tidbit of information with his soldier boy. Interesting and perhaps also worrying.

Scowling, Tony picked it up and looked through it. Ink-painted maps, disjointed notes, transcripts of Latin inscriptions. He went through it with a frown until he found the leitmotif of these scribblings: “Laser?” he asked, pronouncing the ancient word slowly, incredulous, and with a long drawn out a. “They think they found Silphion? That’s not even possible by a long shot.”

“What’s Silphion?” Pepper asked, trying to look over his shoulder.

Fury’s expression was unreadable.

“You didn’t know?” Tony asked and glared at him.

“When the girls and their mom got to us, this was the only message of Erskine’s that made it through. The notebook. I hoped it had some information on the super-soldier formula, instead it’s the map to treasure island. And then the last thing we learned from our agent before he vanished from the face of the earth was that a division under the command of Wolfgang von Strucker was going to take Erskine and move him.”

“Don’t let them find it,” Barnes said. “That’s the last message Steve got to us. Don’t let them find it.. He was talking about this, right?” He wasn’t looking at Tony for an answer though, but to Fury, and there was a frown on his face. Yes, Fury was a man who didn’t share information if he didn’t have to.

So the spunky soldier had saved the lives of a family, gotten his own cover blown and had still been trying to throw a wrench into the science machine that was the Nazi science division called Hydra. Poor guy. There would be nothing left of him until they got there, not if he’d really fallen into enemy hands. America owed much to this man without a country. A better name to be remembered by than “Nomad”, for sure.

Pepper tapped him lightly on the shoulder to get his attention. ““What’s Silphion, Tony?”

“It’s a plant. A plant that was extinct when Rome was still an Empire.”

“What’s so important about a plant that doesn’t even exist anymore?” Barnes asked. “They’re not botanists on an expedition. We are talking about the worst part of the Nazi war machine here. They’re not the kind to go looking for flowers.”

“The plant was said to have incredible healing properties. When the Greeks found it the only place it was growing was in Kyrene, an ancient city on the coast of Libya. People were buying the sap of the plant called laser all over the ancient world to heal even the worst ailments and because it was said to have an intoxicating taste. It’s also said to have granted longevity and superior strength. Some sources claim it could heal the dying with just a sip of the sap, but that seems really unlikely. A legend says that the sick cattle that ate it on the meadows either became healthy instantly or in very few cases died instantly. It was the miracle cure of the ancient world. An all cure. None of that can be proved or tried without the plant, so in the end it doesn’t matter. It was wiped out thousands of years ago, exactly because it was so high in demand and there was no way to cultivate it. This little plant that was said to give youth and strength and health — it only grew wild and only in this one area on the globe. Isn’t that fantastic? Like a script?” Tony shrugged and leaned back to look at the notebook, pondering what could have been so important about the legend that the Erskine had put so much work into researching it.

Barnes was watching him carefully. “You’re not a botanist either, but you seem to know an awful lot about it.”

“I know a lot about archaeological mysteries,” he said lightly. The truth was, of course, that for a long while he had actively looked for all ancient mysteries that promised him a cure for his ailing heart. “Laser”, the sap of the Silphion plant, had come up a few times and he’d only abandoned that research because there was no way at all to bring back an extinct medicinal herb and thus it had all been a waste of his time.

The notebook in his hand seemed to suggest a different story, though. There were maps and some obviously encrypted notes speaking of locations. Someone had been hunting for the Holy Grail of medical herbs and apparently they had found better leads than Tony ever came across.

“So, Stark, I hope all this is intriguing enough for you. You and Barnes will move out tomorrow.” Fury grinned, as Tony’s eyes snapped up, away from the scribbles and inky sketches.

“To where?” Barnes asked, incredulously.

Fury was already halfway out the tent as he called back: “To establish what happened with Erskine and Rogers, of course. Between the two of you, I’m sure you’ll figure out where to go from there. Have fun boys, and keep me informed.”

As the tent flap fell closed again as abruptly as when Fury had shoved his way in, Tony and the person who he supposed was now his new liaison officer exchanged a long unhappy look. “I should make it clear that I’m neither a spy nor a detective,” Tony said slowly, closing the small notebook with a flap and slipping it into his jacket pocket. “I’m not even a soldier.”

Barnes narrowed his eyes. “You could have fooled me,” he nearly spat.

Tony could tell that as far as beginnings went, this wasn’t one of the better ones. But he had something that worked like a treasure map in his pocket and a chance to thwart Strucker’s evil plans and, perhaps, help out a faithful, brave little spy of Fury’s along the way. He’d been on adventures for worse reasons.

“So tell me Barnes,” Tony said and grinned at Pepper. “Why exactly did you think my robot would have come in handy here?”

Tony knew he had only two options — not play along at all or jump in headfirst. Pepper, who had become accustomed to the constant pull of the army, the constant string of stories coming her way while the allies prepared their plans, suddenly looked more worried than she had in a long time. “This is going to bring you too close to them, Tony. It’s not just your usual dangerous, it’s too dangerous. What if...” Her voice broke and he wanted to hug her and tell her he’d be alright.

But he woke up sometimes, dreaming of being injected, laughing hysterically like his father under the mask. What secrets would they get from him? What weapons would he build if his mind had been “reformed”, unhinged by the Zemo solution in that dreaded syringe. The metal in his heart alone was too valuable and dangerous to fall into the hands of Hydra.

“I should send you home,” he said instead of offering her any form of reassurance. It had been on his mind since that first moment — since Fury had mentioned sending him into enemy territory. He had lost a chronicler, a good friend of long years of adventure to betrayal once. Pepper had been with him for a few years now and she was part of his family, the band of associates and friends he trusted. Above all he did not want to see her hurt. And he did not want her close by when his worst nightmares came true either.

“I hope you know me well enough by now to realize that you can’t tell me what to do.”

“Which is why I’m not sending you home,” he admitted. “We’re going to London right now.”

“Does Fury know that?”

Tony nodded shortly. They were going to take Barnes, although the soldier had been less than happy about the announcement. Only the hint that the Iron Man needed to be picked up before they went on that mission had made him agree to this.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “But Tony… You’re not leaving me behind in London either.”

He tried to make his smile soft and understanding, but something about it must have been off, because she was instantly on her guard. “I’m not taking you along for this. I already asked for Rhodey. I know I’ve made you do lots and lots of crazy stuff over the years and so far we’ve always come out on top, but…” - he held up the notebook - “this has trap written all over it, Pepper. It’s like Atlantis all over again and this time they know I have tricks up my sleeve.”

“You think Strucker wants to reel you in?” It had crossed her mind too, of course, right from the beginning and she didn’t act surprised. Perhaps there was a hint of relief on her face, now that she realized that he was going into this with open eyes.

He shrugged. “If they indeed still have a Zemo, then he’s clearly burning out. It’s time for a replacement.”

Pepper went pale instantly. “You think your… he survived the blast back then?”

“That or they recruited after and it wasn’t a good fit. There have been records of Zemo’s movements, but who truly knows who or what’s behind that mask at the moment?”

“Tony,” she said and he looked up at her, meeting her eyes, and she faltered, her arms closing around him in a hug. He hugged her back, and just held her there, feeling like he was saying goodbye.

“Look, Pepper, you’re my best girl? Who can I trust but you? I need someone who will get us out of this mess if it goes sideways, someone on reserve.”

“Reserve?” She didn’t like the sound of that; that much was clear.

“We’re going to London to make our preparations. Me, Barnes and Rhodey, we move on to whatever this is — looking for a spy who stopped transmitting, looking for a mystical cure from ancient times, getting close to Hydra and ending it. I don’t care which of these it turns out to be. But I need you to contact Namor. All plans are set on us being picked up by a small aircraft somewhere, wherever the resistance cells we come across can arrange it, and get us back to Britain. I don’t like the odds. The Nazis know that if we go here,” — he pointed at one of the encrypted maps in the mysterious notebook — “we’ll be at the southern coast and the quickest route out will be by air, which is why…”

“You want a sea route out.”

“A ship that can get me to my home shores quickly and in secret.”

“Not Britain?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Tell Namor, that if this actually plays out and I get away with company or with the Silphion or whatever, then we go home. I won’t let it get into the wrong hands and I hope that I can deal Hydra a blow that lasts and then my involvement in this war is no longer necessary.”

She frowned. That was the problem when your associates knew you too well; they could detect when you weren’t telling them everything without even trying.

“You think you might not come back,” she finally concluded after a minute of scrutiny.

“I’m never sure of that,” he said, deliberately deflecting.

“No,” she disagreed. “You’re always sure of that, even if you shouldn’t be. So don’t tell me this is normal for you.”

He shook his head and shrugged. There wasn’t much he could say to make her like this whole undertaking more. “Can I count on you, Pep?”

“Always,” she said, but her eyes were sad, as she nodded. “We’ll see this through to the end. And you’ll make god damn sure that it’s going to be a good and happy ending. Because if I’m the last person to write a Tony Stark adventure, then you’ll better see to it that it’s not going to be a bummer for your loyal readers. I’m going to be very cross with you otherwise. Don’t make me write a tragedy. I suck at it.”

He smiled and chuckled. “That’s the spirit,” he said and patted her on the back. They both knew that even if this was going to be his last adventure, Pepper would give him a great literary eulogy. They were both hoping it wouldn't come to that.

“I wish you could just let this whole thing go and find another way to take out Strucker.”

“Look, Pepper, you saw that soldier’s file. If a scrap of a man like him goes into the viper’s nest to do what he thinks is necessary, how can I of all people stay safe hiding behind men like Barnes? That was a truly brave man who went to war because he believed he was doing the right thing. And I believe taking down Hydra for all of us is the only thing that matters.”

She sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand. After all she was here, writing all their stories, trying to make people at home see what was really going on at the front. Finally she nodded. “At least promise me you’ll hide behind your armor whenever it gets too hot. They really have it in for you.”

“No kidding, Potts. No kidding.” He hugged her to his chest and whispered. “Rhodey will be right there taking care of me.”

“That only means that I need to worry about both of you.”

There wasn’t much to pack and the plane wasn’t really big enough to hold much equipment beside the passengers. Barnes was wearing his uniform, looking grim, as he stood beside Fury, waiting for them. “You have a day to get whatever you need, Stark. This is urgent. Who knows...”

“I know,” he said. “Every day counts if any of this is true.”

Fury watched him board the plane with narrowed eyes, but didn’t say any more. He didn’t contradict him on the assumption that this might all be false information and Tony couldn’t be sure what that meant with Fury being the unmatched champion of secrecy, but he was inclined to believe that the man had come to him, because he trusted his judgment on this. And Tony would be sure to watch his back.

Fury and Barnes stood outside the plane for a moment longer, talking in hushed tones, before the young soldier finally joined them. Nobody was looking particularly happy. The tension was thick enough that Tony could have cut through it with the beloved machete that was still lying on the desk of his New York office, because he’d naively expected not to need it in Europe.

“I hope this detour is necessary,” Barnes commented scathingly.

“It is, Barnes. Never fear. If you want to have a chance to even get to your friend in time, then we can’t rush in like fools. If they actually seized him and know who he is, then they’ll suspect some rescue attempt. And if the rest of the information is any indication, then they might actually hope someone will come.”

“You think this is a trap?” Barnes looked at him cautiously. “Steve isn’t anybody…”

“Not your friend I fear, but Erskine and the information the family carried with them. They’re what we’re supposed to take an interest in. Where exactly was your friend when he was last seen?”

Barnes shrugged. “He was on the way back to Lyon, which is where they were holding Erskine at the time.”

“And his call-sign has been used since? How?”

“There was a coded transmission. We can’t be sure, but the code was correct and up to date. And a low ranking Maquis liaison received a message from Nomad warning their operatives to leave Avignon a day before Gestapo rolled in and raided flats that had been used by agents.”

“Nothing else? No sign of where he went after? No information about what happened? Wouldn’t we hear about it if he had ended up in prison?”

It took Barnes a long moment to answer and then he grimly said: “If he was shot and disposed off right away, who knows? We might never find the body. Best guess is that they are holding him in Lyon. Or he can’t call in, because he’s afraid to compromise other resistance fighters.”

Tony nodded. He was beginning to see why “Nomad” was worth taking a few risks for.  “He is smart. Good. Can he survive on his own?”

“In Nazi occupied France? In the woods? What do you mean? He survived until now as a spy and that’s not the easiest way to live.”

Or at least they both wanted to believe he had survived, because if he wasn’t alive then they were wasting resources, instead of going after Erskine and the Wiedergeburt project. “So the only lead we have is a notebook that speaks of an extinct plant and unreliable messages using his code name. That’s not much to go on.”

“What exactly is it? The notebook?” For the first time Barnes was looking at him as if he actually believed Tony actually knew the answer to something.

“Research, maps, some formulas. I haven’t looked through all of it yet. There’s years of research in that little book. Some medical notes,” he explained. He was about to add that this was not exactly his area of expertise, but it would be a lie. He was maybe not good enough to perform surgery on anyone, and he’d probably be the wrong person to ask to diagnose the flu, but he’d been searching for a cure for his own not insignificant ailment for so long that he’d come by a lot of medical knowledge over the years. And the kind of danger he went into with open eyes had made some hands on knowledge about field medicine a question of survival.

Erskine had made some notes, not encrypted and haphazard that Tony had been able to understand. Apparently he’d been searching for a way to make an “all-cure” and had stumbled onto something that might make super-soldiers instead. Human perfection was a concept that Tony disliked more than anything, most of all because he knew that perfection usually did not hold up to scrutiny. And he’d seen the kind of perfection that Strucker was working towards and the only thing that stuck in his mind was cruelty and hate, hubris. The lunacy involved and the ugliness it had helped to bring into this world already was too much to bear as it was.

And from what he could see Erskine had shied back from his own discovery, too. Pages had been torn out of the notebook, things had been scratched out. Even the hints of the completed cure had vanished, if they had ever indeed been part of the notes. What was left, was legend.

“Fury told me about the Wiedergeburt thing. They are trying to breed supermen. That’s what’s in the research?” The way Barnes’ jaw set and communicated clearly what he thought about that, made him much more likable in Tony’s opinion. “I still think the best thing to do would have been to take your robot and torch it all to the ground.”

Well, Tony could certainly empathize with that approach in light of what he had seen recently. “Torching doesn’t sound like a bad plan, I admit. But you’d have to make sure that you get the whole project. And there’s no way they are keeping all the heads of this thing in one place. No, the best thing to do is to make sure they don't succeed.”

Hydra.

The name had been very deliberately chosen. It was hard to kill a Hydra. Impossible if you only managed to take one head off at a time. You’d have to wipe it all out at once.

“The truth is,” Barnes said and he was looking at him with a good deal of skepticism, “I’m not sure what you’re doing here. You have no stake in this. And I don’t think even half of the stories about you are true. I’d feel better going on this mission with a real soldier, an S.O.E. officer who knows the lay of the land..”

It was perfectly endearing how Barnes seemed to think Tony cared the tiniest bit about what he thought about him. “All you need to know about me, Barnes, is that I have the robot you think we might need. And I also have an idea what we are up against. What you believe or don't believe doesn’t matter much to me one way or another.”

“You’re not claiming you really brought down a magical dragon in China?” Barnes asked with no small hint of exasperation.

Pepper, who had been silent up until now, was looking at Tony with a smirk. “I never got to hear your version of that story either, Tony.”

“That’s because Virgil told it so much better than me.” He smirked right back at her.

Barnes huffed. “Stories,” he muttered. “I don’t need any more stories. I need someone who can help me find my friend without getting us all killed.”

Tony decided not to take that personally, but couldn’t help pointing out: “The Fing-Fang-Foom story isn’t even a very popular issue of Marvels. For someone who seems to dislike stories so much, you sure know your way around the Tony Stark Adventures, Barnes.”

But his new “friend’s” expression darkened immediately not ready to take the joke for what it was. “I knew someone who used to gobble that stuff up. Always ‘Tony Stark this’ and ‘Tony Stark that’ with him. Wanted to see the world too. Wanted to go on adventures. Wanted to be just like you. That was all pretty harmless and nice until the war came.”

The implication took the humor out of the joke. It also explained some of Barnes’ animosity towards him.

“Is he okay?” Pepper asked in a hushed voice.

Barnes only shrugged his shoulders and leaned away, not looking at them anymore.

Tony could piece together the rest of the story. Soldiers who survived wars were the lucky ones. And as his father’s example had taught him, surviving didn’t always mean you had won either. He hadn’t even been in a war, not even on an adventure, when someone had for the first time made an attempt on his life and nearly succeeded.

“You do realize this is not a Marvels adventure campaign. My friend’s life may well depend on this mission. You can’t take her with you into the frizz either to write down your good deeds. Not this time.” Barnes nodded towards Pepper, who instantly looked less sympathetic.

“Don’t worry,” Pepper said in a scathing tone. “The weak little woman will stay safely behind in England.”

“That’s not…” Barnes started to protest, but wisely stopped halfway through. Whatever he was going to say next he was only going to dig a deeper hole for himself.

“We’re going to pick up James Rhodes and the Iron Man. That’s what you wanted,” Tony interrupted curtly. He didn’t say that he wanted the extra day to figure out what to do about the notebook. He didn’t say that he wanted to make sure things were settled in case things went south.

Barnes was here for one thing: The mission Fury had given to him and more than anything that involved saving a friend, a fellow soldier.

Tony was here for his own reasons.

He was here to do the impossible: Kill a Hydra before it could grow even more ugly heads.

In London they were greeted by a cold drizzle that wasn’t enough to actually get you wet, but made your clothes feel clammy and uncomfortable. Tony didn’t mind. Compared to his stays in South American rainforests London was positively inviting every time he came here. The Stark Industries facility they’d set up was a big old building and there were no visible signs of the building even being in use.

He dropped off Pepper and Barnes at the S.O.E. headquarter and left them with their British liaison and then went straight there.

Jarvis was the only person to greet him when he entered the construction hall.

“There you are,” he said. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding us.”

“You? Always,” Tony shot back and stepped towards the armor that stood propped up in the center of the room. “Him? Never.”

“Ah, I was sure the suit would be a lady to you.”

“Invincible Iron Man,” Tony said. “What does that sound like to you?”

“Like a bad tagline of a pulp story. Now get on the bench and let me have a look. I want to make sure your ticker isn’t giving out on you the minute you leave London. Can you imagine the obituary that Pepper would need to write for you then?”

“Don’t worry so much. The orichalcum is doing a fine job, just as we knew it would.” Despite his protests he was obediently walking over to the work bench and sat down. Never a patient man, Jarvis hands were already on his shirt, opening the buttons to get a look at the glass plate and surrounding metal that was protecting his heart. He opened the little hatch to get a better look at the small energy source there that was keeping him going.

“Looks less crude than I remember,” Jarvis huffed and reached for his tools, picked up a bottle of alcohol and poured some of it over his exceptionally clean hands. Obviously he had been prepared for Tony’s arrival. “Any trouble?”

“It’s still a superconductor. I try not spend too much time in rainstorms.”

“Hmm,” Jarvis said and looked at the little piece of metal they’d formed out of a small piece of the orichalcum trident. “You’re fine, Tony.” How he managed to sound somewhere between unspeakably happy and disappointed was anyone’s guess.

“I know.” He watched as Jarvis reached for the charger.

“I’ll take it you’re here to take the big metal toy and go gallivanting again. So let’s get you up to 100% to make me feel better. I wouldn’t put it beyond you to kill your heart now that it’s perfectly fine, just because you need to run that thing to the breaking point.” He nodded towards the Iron Man armor.

He shrugged. The process of charging was still uncomfortable, even if it wasn’t as painful as it had been before. And he still hated his heart being this exposed even if only Jarvis was around. But if he was going to make a ditch into enemy territory he’d better make sure he wouldn’t run out of juice a day in. The electric jolt made him gasp, but he could take it sitting up, breathing through his nose and taking in gulps of air. It took, nearly 20 excruciating minutes — his hands clenching on the edge of the wooden bench, his heart beating fast and his muscles contracting — until Jarvis finally nodded and released him. He got his breathing back under control as he replaced the little glass hatch, feeling much better when his beating heart wasn’t so exposed.

Jarvis nodded, started moving around the shop. His expression was dark, but he said: “Your heart is going to keep going for at least a hundred years with that piece of marvelous metal.”

“You think?” he asked lightly.

“Not if you get yourself killed first, Tony.”

He’d seen that coming. “I’m taking Rhodey. I’m taking the armor. I’m as safe as I can be under the circumstances.”

“Circumstances,” Jarvis spat.

Tony got slowly up from the bench, methodically buttoning up the shirt again. “Don’t start. Pepper is giving me these speeches daily.”

“Smart bird, little red,” Jarvis said.

Tony nodded. “I’m not actually disagreeing.”

The old engineer turned his back to Tony and he watched as he started tinkering on something that looked distinctly like a gun design that Tony had jotted down when he’d last seen Jarvis in New York. “I thought we said we wouldn’t build that one.”

“We said we wouldn’t mass produce it and provide it to the army. But if you insist on doing this crazy thing, then at least you should be better armed. They are going to gun for you and the best outcome I can think of is that you get them first.”

With a significant lingering look at the armor Tony told Jarvis exactly what he thought about that, without uttering a single word.

“You can’t be Iron Man all day, Tony. Rhodey says you’ll have a soldier with you. And you don’t want the army to know that we didn’t build a robot as a combat machine, a very sophisticated, human shaped tank. They’d come to the conclusion that all soldiers should have one, the moment they find out this is a combat suit.”

“The Germans likely already know all about the armor, Jarvis. We don’t need to keep up the pretense.”

“We should,” Jarvis said sourly. “You want to have a life after all this, don’t you? Make sure Iron Man remains its own thing.”

“Yeah,” he said, trying not to sound unsure or ungrateful. “I just… you know I need to do this, right?”

Finally, Jarvis put down the small screwdriver and turned to again look at him. He carefully put down the mostly assembled super-machine pistol and sighed. “I’m not trying to keep you here, Tony. He’s your father. He was my friend. Who knows if I’d ever survived the last war without him. I get why you have to do this. Doesn’t mean I need to bloody like it.”

There was an unspoken objection still hanging in the air between them and Tony waited for it. He and Jarvis they’d known each other for so long. The man had been at his side through some of his worst years and stood by him. And today he was going to ask something more of him. The least he could do was listen to what he had to say.

“I promised to take care of his son. And now look at you.” His finger pointed right at the point where his heart was hidden under the shirt now.

“We can’t let Hydra go on. The rest of the world thinks Hitler and the Gestapo are what they should fear. But we know better. And they’ll recruit again and again if we don’t put a stop to it.”

“I understand. I saw lots of people die, Tony. I understand the need for revenge. I understand that you need to know that it’s no longer your father under that mask. I know that they will never stop coming after you if they’re not stopped. I bloody understand. But you have to understand that keeping you away from them is the best way I know to keep you from ending up under the mask next.”

“I made Rhodey promise not to let it happen,” he said and let no ounce of fear or regret enter his tone. He owed Jarvis that much. He’d been the man to bring him up after all.

The frown on Jarvis’ face deepened. He hated the thought. “And you’d want him to live with the thought of having killed one of his best friends?”

“I wouldn’t be Tony Stark any more. Just like Howard Stark died when we thought we buried him and whatever went on after to become Zemo wasn’t him any longer.”

Jarvis sighed. Clearly he wasn’t going to stop Tony from doing what he thought was right, even if he didn’t like it. And although they were both not saying it, they both knew why this conversation had been put off for so long, and why they were having it now. Howard Stark was — had been — his father. But that father had died when he’d turned seven. His mother had died a year before that. And the heir to the Stark fortune had suddenly found himself all alone and thrown to the sharks who wanted some of Stark’s money and genius before the ship sank. And then Jarvis had stepped in. His mentor, his friend, the closest thing he had to a real father.

If anyone had the right to claim they’d brought him up then it was this gruff old soldier and engineer.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“A favor? It’s not like I never do anything for you, is it?”

“I swear I’m grateful. I’m just not very good at showing it.”

The joke earned him an unamused huff. “Spit it out, Tony.”

“I need you to go to New York. I put the rest of the orichalcum into the mansion vault and it needs to stay safe. I put some specs with it for an energy source that might come in handy after the war when the first thought won’t be to weaponize it. We need to make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Hard blue eyes met his. “You want me in New York? Now?”

“I want you in the company, making sure it stays on top. If I’ll get back it’s really time to make this world a better place and I have an idea how to do it.”

Finally Jarvis nodded. “That’s all I want for you, you know? To finally settle down. Safe. Find someone to do less dangerous adventures with.”

“You know I’m not good at safe. I’m not good at facing life. But when this is over it’s time to tackle a new kind of adventure and that starts with my fathers company. And I want you to help me get Stark Industries out of the business it still does and make it better.”

Jarvis huffed. “I’d always hoped you’d meet a nice girl like Pepper and she’d set you straight.”

He tried to smile, but he was thinking of Gia and the way she’d twisted the knife with her betrayal, how she’d manipulated him into finding Atlantis and the orichalcum for her and then sold him out to Strucker. He would never know how long the betrayal had gone on. Has she found her way into his bed with the purpose of betrayal already in mind? Clearly he wasn’t good at relationships. Had never been really. Not at the ones that lasted. “Maybe with the right person,” he said without conviction and Jarvis saw right through him, nodding his head, playing along for both their sakes. They both knew that Tony had a playboy reputation, but that the papers and his own story accounts only told part of the story. Tony went around with a devil-may-care attitude, but was still careful that his more controversial exploits stayed out of the papers.

“If you find a nice soldier to settle down with, I’m not going to complain. You know that.”

Tony laughed mirthlessly. “It’s not that I don’t have options. It’s that I’m not made for this settled down life.”

“I’ll help you, Tony. But I’m not going to New York just yet. I’ll come with you on the plane make sure the armor is in peak condition when you need it. And then we’ll bring you home and make sure you’ll get your chance to make the world a better place, maybe figure out that settling down isn’t so scary after all.”

“Only if you promise me you go on the plane and get out of there when I don’t get back. Something goes wrong and you go to New York immediately. My will is in the safe, too.”

They stared at each other for a long moment fraught with unspoken emotions, before Jarvis nodded and Tony gave in. Heaving a sigh, Jarvis finally asked: “Tell me then. What do you need? The new plane? The armor? You already have those. New weapons?”

“Expertise,” he explained and finally pulled out the notebook. “Our Hydra friends are trying to create an Übermensch and I’m trying to figure out if they are trying to use me to get to this or if it’s not a trap and I need to get there before they do. Either way, if this is genuine we can’t let them have it.”

He let the little book fall onto the table and sat down.

Time to start the adventure.

Tony Stark was new to being responsible, he was bad at settling down, but he sure as hell was good at this whole adventuring business.

He had the Marvels covers to prove it.

Jarvis took up the little book without prompting and sifted through the pages. “You do realize where this is?” Jarvis asked and held up a sketch on one of the later pages.

He looked at it for a long time, wondered how the penciled sketch looked so different from the earlier sketches and maps made with ink. Something there was different, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. As he inspected the drawing more closely, trying to see something in the sketch of what looked like Greek ruins, a heap of chiseled stones and three thin pillars he couldn’t shake the feeling of having seen it before somewhere. But it could be any ruin of any city with Greek influences…

“I have a picture of you standing on that heap there. You were 15,” Jarvis said. “It’s sitting on the mantle piece in the mansion. You liked the name and the mystery. I still think I should have packed you in the trunk of the car and taken you back home that very moment, before you got a taste for it all.”

“The Valley of the Sacred Spring!” he exclaimed and grabbed the notebook, staring at the uncannily well done sketch.

“That’s the one.”

“That’s not near Kyrene at all! That’s in…”

“France,” Jarvis concluded.

“Near Avignon,” Tony said at the same time. Things were starting to form a picture. He just wasn’t sure he liked what he was seeing here.

That night he sat alone in his hotel room, for the first time systematically going through the little notebook. Albeit having a location now he wasn’t any closer to unraveling the mystery. He still wasn’t sure what it meant. The historical facts about Silphion all placed the plant in Libya and were really adamant about the fact that all attempts to cultivate it in other places had failed for some strange reason. Then either the growing cattle population or the overharvesting of the herb had led to its extinction and it all remained a bit of a mystery to this day.

The supposed wonder drug of the ancient world had been used for all sorts of processes, but none of the real medical procedures had been described. Tony was still very much inclined to just write most of its more wondrous properties off to the realm of legend — and he was a man who lived with a little piece of Atlantean technology in his body. Why had Erskine believed the legends? Why was he convinced there was something to even look for, with a plant that had supposedly been snuffed out millennia ago? Had he found the missing clue and had he been about to use some lost herb to create the superman the generals on all sides were craving?

He hoped not. The little that was told of its potency was so incredible that Tony could only hope that this wasn’t true at all. Because otherwise there was too good a chance that the Nazi’s had already gotten there and this war was going to turn and not in favor of the good guys.

He carefully looked at all the notes, the encrypted passages, the maps. He needed a hint. A more substantial point to start from. There was a map of Kyrene, some descriptions from Latin texts that went into details exactly where the historically recorded spots for finding the plant had been. Notes about the habitat, projections, speculations.

He wasn’t exactly a codebreaker, but he found some notes about medical procedures next and managed to crack enough of the text to make sense. Some of it didn’t make much sense to him, but he understood the parts about gamma radiation and what the good Doctor called “Vita Rays” and wasn’t sure he even liked the implication.

Then something changed on the final pages.

The sketches grew more elaborate, cleaner, more realistic. And there they were again the uncannily accurate pictures of the ruins of Glanum and the Valley of the Sacred Spring. But there was nothing there, right? He’d been there himself and there was no mystery to uncover in those little ruins of a Celtic settlement that had at some point met with Greek and Roman influences. Even the spring was gone, if he remembered correctly. Nothing to find that went beyond the obvious.

Nothing that would call to a treasure hunter, an adventurer like him. There hadn’t even been a giant snake for him to fight. He and Jarvis had been there on vacation and it had been unspectacular. Fun and interesting and a nice memory, but nothing to write a Tony Stark Adventure book about.

He turned the page and found another map. He supposed it marked the stones and ruins of the little oppidum that made up Glanum and the surrounding area and there were some markers that Tony couldn’t make sense of. Some notes scribbled to the side: a date marking the map as having been drawn only three weeks before, a note about a statue of Hercules, some notes about the tasks the legendary Hercules had to fulfill to become a god. A note to the side said: “Valetudo? Panacea? Hercules? Connection?”

Panacea was underlined twice.

He knew the goddess Valetudo; Roman name of a greek goddess of health and cleanliness. But Panacea wasn’t the Greek name of the same goddess. “Panacea,” he muttered. “The goddess with that all-cure.” He was beginning to think Erskine had been making wild guesses and had been chasing a phantom, hoping to have the answer to his scientific problem at his fingertips.

Or perhaps this was all a trick. How authentic was this research even? How would he know without talking to the scientist in question?

But why would Erskine’s wife and family bring them false research? Surely they couldn’t all be decoys, spies, traitors? Was someone using the kids to lend this credibility?

Hercules, he mused. Half-God. Protector of springs. A sacred spring. Glanum had a sacred spring. A place of healing. A temple to Valetudo. A statue of Hercules.

It sounded like a fairy tale. Everything fell into place all too neatly. And still it made as much sense as an Atlantean superconductor sinking an island into the ocean depth or a piece of it making his mechanical heart work like clockwork without needing much energy anymore. He couldn’t exactly dismiss it just because it sounded implausible.

Implausible happened to be the right solution too often.

He looked through the next pages, found a sketch of Corinthian pillars against the backdrop of what looked like a wall. He was sure that wasn’t Glanum. His memory served him well usually and he did not remember a location like that in the ruins he’d visited. Had there been new excavations? Someone was working there at some point. He couldn’t remember.

The sketch was incredible, though. He could even make out the angle of the light falling in from above, throwing shadows.

And the handwriting…

He went back a few pages.

Different handwriting.

Another person taking over.

Another person made the sketches.

Not Erskine.

Who?

He finally came to the last page and found something that really stunned him.

Code.

Not encryption of the kind that had been used on the previous pages.

Written code. Little markings that looked like runes, or stick figures spelling out a message. He knew that code. Darn it, he knew it. He’d thought it up with Rhodey to stand in for the Toltekian signs that had been used in the real life version of that adventure. Darn it. It was code from Tony Stark and the Feathered Mask.

“I don’t believe this,” he said and huffed. “Who the hell, would…?”

But the message said it all.

“Mr. Stark, when you read this, the book has made it back to you. The doctor has not made it out yet and I’ll have to go back for him. But I know this is important. Keep this, but do under no circumstance come to France. Your name has been coming up in all sorts of communications recently and Erskine is worried that they want you here for a procedure. Hydra wants you here. Do not come, please.

It would have been an honor to meet you, but I’d rather you stayed out of their hands.

Nomad”

“Nomad?” he mumbled to himself. “I don’t believe this. Now even people I don’t know at all tell me to stay out of trouble. What’s the world coming to? People used to ask me when I would go on my next adventure.”

He got up, put the notebook on his nightstand and made himself ready for bed. It would be a long few days before he got to sleep in a soft bed again and he was more determined than ever to solve this mystery quickly.

It might still all be an elaborate mousetrap with his name written on it.

But he’d be damned if he’d start taking the advice of strangers talking from secret messages.

And if “Nomad” had hoped to make him stay safely behind in England, then mentioning Hydra had been the wrong strategy. Tony Stark wasn’t after the treasure this time.

He wasn’t even after revenge.

He just wanted a clean ending.

Rhodey helped him and Jarvis store the armor crates into the aircraft that Pepper had termed their “flying fortress”. It was a bit of an exaggeration to call the new modified Stark bomber fortress, but Tony unofficially called it the “Stark rocket plane”. So far nobody at Stark Industries was taking his foray into rockets for much more than a playful enhancement that could be used for launching bombs in the future, but Tony had no intention to use it for weaponization. He was too interested in energy and making the world go round. The adventurer in him liked an explosion here and there just fine, but he’d rather go far than blow up if given a choice.

“All set,” Rhodey told him. “Two crates, boss?”

“You never know, Jim. You might have to suit up and get me.”

“This is no routine mission. I’m aware.”

“We all are,” Jarvis complained. “Which is why we should run the other way real fast.”

Tony had given Jim the complete run down, had for the first time right out loud admitted to someone that he was going in to make sure that none of these mad men got out of there alive, because he was not seeing a way to kill the idea of Hydra without wiping out the people who kept it going. He had also imparted a brief summary of what it seemed Hydra was looking for.

Rhodey grinned a big toothy grin at him. “Hydra is trying to make a Hercules? That sounds like a self-fulfilling prophecy waiting to happen.”

Tony snorted and shook his head. The irony of the endeavor hadn’t escaped him. Killing the Hydra had been one of the tasks set to Hercules after all. “Don’t get me started.”

“So that’s what this is? Operation Hercules? Bring down Hydra? Make a super-soldier?”

“If this works out I’ll tell Pepper that you had this novel titled before it was even written.”

“Oh, she won’t complain. And don’t you think that honor goes to our generals? Whatever they are saying about this Erskine and ‘Wiedergeburt’, they are working on their own super-soldier,” Rhodey said with a straight face. “As if an Iron Man on their side isn’t enough to win this thing.” He grinned. It was a relief how easily they could fall back into the old pattern of relaxed banter when in fact they both knew they might not come back from this one. It was just like old times, nearly getting buried in ancient ruins and set upon by panthers and a mob and whatever lurked in the dark.

“An Iron Man or two. I’ve upgraded mine a few times since you last saw it. The other one is still the model you are used to, but I gave it… more firepower. I thought you might like that.”

“If it gives me the firepower I need to get your skinny ass out of trouble, boss, then I’m not complaining.”

“I’m not your boss anymore, soldier.” Rhodey had joined up as a pilot — and a damn good one he was.

“Right, boss. That’s why you could request me for this mission without anyone putting up a fight.”

“Oh, I think we have to thank general Fury for that one, Rhodey. He’s a true Marvels fan at heart. So he got the old team back together.”

They both snickered. It was hard to imagine Fury sitting somewhere reading pulps or any kind of fantastic story. It was hard to imagine him having downtime at all. No, by now they both knew that  Fury had come by his knowledge about the truth of Tony’s adventures from other sources and that was why he had wanted Tony to join him in this war. Fury had a good eye for assets and he had the uncanny ability to figure out secrets. He knew about Iron Man, of course. He had never given any indication of knowing, but Tony was 100% sure that he knew that Iron Man wasn’t just a robot. But he hadn’t passed on that piece of information to anyone yet and Tony would be thankful for that if in back of his mind there weren’t the sneaking suspicion that Fury was keeping it to himself more because it gave him something to keep Tony in line with than because he was just doing him a favor.

People whose secrets had secrets usually knew about their power.

When he and Rhodey were satisfied with securing the crates and other equipment, they climbed back out of the plane together, Pepper was waiting for them and Barnes, for the first time wearing civilian clothes, stood near her, taking in the plane and trying very hard not to show he was impressed. When Rhodey stepped up behind Tony Barnes’ eyes snapped to his face and there was a moment of real wonder there. “You’re Rhodes,” he said and held out his hand.

“That’s what they tell me,” Rhodey said amiably and shook the sergeant's hand. “I’m going to be the pilot of this baby and your backup, right, boss?”

Tony nodded. “But I might need you on the ground at some point. I feel better sneaking around mysterious temples when someone who knows his way around traps and archaeological pitfalls has my back.”

“I have a bit of experience with that, thanks to you, yes.” Rhodey gave him a dirty look and then grinned at the “new kid”. “You’re Fury’s man?”

Barnes didn’t seem to know how he was supposed to react to that, but nodded curtly. “I suppose I am.”

Just minutes ago Tony had told his friend what he knew about Barnes and his objective. He’d given him the abridged history of Steve Rogers and his job behind enemy lines and Rhodey had nodded, smiled and said: “He wants to save his friend.” He hadn’t said much more, but Tony knew just like that Barnes had earned his friend’s respect. Tony had shrugged, because he wasn’t sure how good he and Barnes would get along on a real mission, but it was good if he got along well with someone on this team. He had a feeling that he and Barnes wouldn’t exactly be on the same page for most of this, because Tony wasn’t sharing his main objective for going to France. It was neither the fate of Captain Rogers or the Silphion. He was looking for a scenario that after some years of playing hide and seek and spy games with Strucker would bring him face to face with the enemy.

Getting Erskine back to Great Britain and the brave soldier back home safely along the way was a matter of pride, a matter of honor, maybe. Even more a matter of respect. He’d gladly make sure that more soldiers, more brave men who were fighting for the freedom of their home country in France got home safely, but to do it, he had to make sure that Hydra’s influence died with this war.

Barnes pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket. It had the name “Stark” scribbled on it in Fury’s forcefully efficient handwriting. Tony took it reluctantly. On the one sheet inside it someone had typed “Operation: Invaders” and a few details of recent codes and contact persons. Agents and people in the resistance movements. The address of a Paris safe house and meeting point and times in Avignon.

“The smart thing to do would be to bypass Paris altogether,” Rhodey said reluctantly.

“If they have Steve, where would they take him for interrogation?”

The word work camp ghosted through his mind, but he wasn’t sure they would bother even. They’d interrogate him wherever was convenient and then kill him, take Erskine, be done with it. What was there for Rogers to give up that they couldn’t get from another agent? “We might be too late, Barnes, you know that, right?”

“If we are, I want to know that I tried anyway until hope was lost. He’s my best friend and I should have gone in his place.”

Ah, guilt.

That was a tune Tony knew to dance to. He nodded and looked at Barnes with a new level of respect. “We’ll do our best to make sure he’s not left behind or forgotten.”

The unhealthy soldier’s brave story had impressed him. The loyalty of a friend impressed him more. People who commanded that kind of respect were usually worth meeting.

But there was something more at the back of his mind. A message written in a code out of a pulp story. The animosity Barnes had been showing him from day one made much more sense when you looked at it in a different light. “Your friend Steve,” he asked, “he wasn’t a fan of Marvels by any chance, was he?”

Eyes narrowing and expression growing darker Barnes went immediately back on the defense. “Not everyone likes that drivel, Stark, some of us live in the real world. I knew you’d be full of yourself.”

“Oh,” he said. “The real world is not a nice place. People need stories.” Or perhaps that was just him. He doubted it though.

“People need heroes. The ones that are made on battle fields, who risk everything for what they believe in where it matters. Who cares for wrestling giant snakes and finding ancient stone idols?”

“You’d be surprised.”

But he knew already. And Barnes knew that Tony understood exactly what he wasn’t saying and he accepted the dislike. So he finally came clean and nearly spat: “He wanted to be a hero like you, Stark. And that’s what he got for it.”

“Heroes,” Tony said neutrally, “belong in story books. They belong with a world that’s better than ours.”

He wasn’t surprised when Barnes took no ounce of comfort from his words. “Right,” he said and glared.

“You didn’t answer my question though. Steven Rogers? He the Marvels reading friend?”

This time Barnes’ eyes narrowed dangerously. “Why?”

The notebook was out of Tony’s pocket before Barnes had even voiced the question. He’d reread the message several times yesterday and pondered the pictures and handwriting. The notebook fell open to the picture of the Glanum ruins and Tony held it up for Barnes to look at. “The handwriting? Is it Rogers’? I’m looking for someone who apparently read Jungle City often enough to remember the code we used for the novel.”

Barnes swallowed and reached for the book. “The drawing that’s Steve alright,” he muttered. “Yes, that’s Steve…” He looked at the notes and nodded. “Is he alive?”

“It just tells us he was alive when he helped extract Erskine’s family. But that we already knew.”

Worry about his friend was written all over the soldier’s face. It was obvious that he had questions. Then he stared at the code. “That’s from the pulps?” he asked and this was probably the first time that there was some fondness in his voice while he mentioned the Tony Stark Adventures.

Tony shrugged. “We used something that was printable, not the real thing we encountered. So whoever is using this, he has taken it from that novel.”

“It was a message to you. That is why Fury…”

“Might be,” Tony interrupted. “Is that something that Steven Rogers would do? It was signed with his codename.”

For an instant Barnes looked somewhere between elated and exasperated, and then finally conceded: “He loves your stupid adventure stories.”

“There’s no accounting for taste,” Tony shot back tartly. “Good. Okay, okay. Then Rogers was with Erskine when he made whatever discovery this notebook is connected to. Or Erskine sent him to bring back something… I think we have to talk, Barnes. If he’s alive we will get your friend and figure this out!”

And Barnes looked about ready to do it, too.

They turned to Pepper and Rhodey and Barnes froze in surprise. Pepper’s arms were around Rhodey’s shoulders and he was just holding her against himself. “Be careful,” she whispered as if the other two weren’t there at all.

“I always come back to you, don’t I?”

“Yeah, but that’s when you’re fighting a war. This time it’s you travelling with him,” and Pepper nodded over his shoulder at where Tony was standing, watching them with a grin. Rhodey also looked at him, but didn’t let go over her yet.

Barnes still stood rooted to the spot and then looked uncertainly between Rhodey and Tony. “I thought she was your girl.”

“Mine?” Tony asked and rolled his eyes. “Pepper will be glad to tell you that she belongs to nobody.”

“Right,” she said, and Rhodey chuckled. “I went for the better pilot,” she said and beamed.

“That’s debatable,” Tony protested and Rhodey shrugged, grinning widely.

“Just come back in one piece, all of you,” Pepper finally let go of her lover and stepped up to hug Tony. “I want to know every little detail, when you get out of there.”

“You know me, Pepper.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I think I’ve come to know you quite well, Tony. So don’t get killed over something that might not even exist.” The look she gave him said more than her words. They were still not sure how much information they should be sharing with Barnes at this point and where avoiding to speak about Hydra or Zemo or Tony’s personal issues where he was close-by. The warning Pepper was voicing was as much about the extinct wunder plant as it was about Zemo, he may or may not be alive still.

“Don’t worry, Pep. I’ve survived worse.”

He didn’t tap his hand against his chest. His meaning was clear.

Rhodey was already boarding the plane. Barnes followed him, pale now and impatient. Tony patted Pepper on the back. “Remember to get us home, if the plane doesn’t work out.”

“Namor is picking me up tonight,” she whispered.

“Don’t let him push you around. He thinks he’s the king of pirates.”

She grinned. “In some ways he probably is. But I’m queen of the Tony Stark adventures. I think we’ll get along fine without you.”

“Are we going to leave here today or are you going to make me wait any longer? I’m not getting younger and the suspense is killing me,” Jarvis called from the plane.

They’d all be glad if this was over.

Rhodey took the pilot seat as there was no need to discuss who was taking it and Tony slipped into the place beside him, watching him as he got them into the air. “She still flies like a real dame,” Rhodey commented. “Not like the scrap of dump yard we had when we went to Nicaragua.”

“Desperate times, Rhodey,” he said. “The least I can do is see that we have the best equipment at our disposal.”

Barnes was standing behind them, watching over their shoulders, while Jarvis had strapped himself in, studying the notebook. Crossing the channel would be the  easiest part of their journey. Their journey to the south of France wasn’t a long one, not at this altitude. They just needed to remain undetected. “We will meet Steve’s partner in Marseilles,” he said decisively. “She’s been looking into his possible capture for days. It’s the best place to start.”

Tony nodded. “You’ll have to do that. My face is on too many wanted terrorist lists of the Reich these days.”

“Which,” he said slowly, but this time not as if he was admonishing Tony, “is why I told Fury we really only needed the robot. You are just too recognizable.”

“You could have gotten rid of the beard,” Rhodey joked. “That worked well in Poland that one time.”

“Only because the Gestapo person was so drunk on beer that he could barely stand.”
They laughed, some of the tension lessening now that they were on track to a new adventure.

“Steve is my priority,” Barnes said softly. “But I understand that Fury wanted you to look into that super-soldier project they are trying to launch.”

“Erskine was working for us first?”

Barnes nodded. “Until an agent got to his family and he just vanished.”

“We’ll get him. And if we’re lucky we’ll get your friend along the way.”

It was obvious that Barnes was nervous. Like Tony he knew that they might already be too late, but he did not want to have to tell himself later that he should have at least tried. “He’s tougher than he looks,” he mumbled.

“He’ll need to be. If they suspect he’s the one who got the family out then he’s the reason they lost their most valuable bargaining chip. Gestapo doesn’t enjoy being made to look like fools.”

“It’s not Gestapo you're worried about though, is it?”

Rhodey whistled through his teeth. It was as much a warning that a spy might have asked the exact same questions as a sign that he was impressed with Barnes deductive skills so far.

Tony shrugged. “Can you imagine them having a successful super-soldier trial before us? Doesn’t make you nervous?”

“Scares the hell out of me,” Barnes admitted.

“Then whatever this is, let’s stop it and go home. You trained Rogers. I gather you know your way around occupied territory? Know your way around a facility that needs to be blown to kingdom come?”

A curt nod. “I’m not really worried about me here. Have you ever done anything like this?”

“So Rogers knows the Tony Stark Adventures so well he can use a code that we only made up for that one issue without much time to look it up, and you’re telling me you have no idea what I do for a living.”

“You build planes and robots and have some of your exploits novelized. Big deal. Will you actually be of help to me down there? And in what way?”

Rhodey suddenly laughed. Tony hoped he looked somewhere between affronted and amused. “You think I’m a fraud and you still stepped into this plane with me, Barnes? I’m not sure if I should admire your courage or be worried I’m on this mission with a dangerously foolish man.”

Barnes shrugged. “Fury says you worked for him since the war started. I knew that must count for something.”

“Ah, but he didn’t give any details?”

“No.”

“Of course not.” Tony rolled his eyes. “He can be so annoying with all his secrets.”

And that for the first time made Barnes smile at him as if he meant it. “Half the time it’s just like he sends you on missions without even telling you half the things that are going on. He’s a bastard like that.”

Tony gave him a lopsided grin. “Tell you what, Barnes? I think I’m beginning to like you.”

Looking over his shoulder and giving no indication that he cared either way about what Tony thought of him, he continued on: “So we go down there and I can be sure you’ll have my back?”

“Depends on what you think we should be doing exactly? How do we locate your friend?”

Barnes nodded, sure of this next step. “We’ll meet up with his partner. Hopefully she can set us on the right track.”

Rhodey was taking the plane over the woods, going lower than their traveling altitude, but not low enough to make this more dangerous than it had to be. Tony jumped out first after giving Jarvis a parting salute, Barnes standing right beside him with his own parachute. A handful of S.O.E. officers who spoke French well enough to pass as French did this jump every few month, but Tony couldn’t help feel exposed as he was dangling here in the air waiting to finally hit ground again. He wished for the armor, hut he and Jarvis had silently agreed that the “robot” would have to stay behind for now. If he’d taken it, he might as well have telegraphed his whereabouts to Strucker and his people with fireworks.

And for now this was a covert mission.

He hit the ground with a thud the fabric of his chute tangled in the tree branches and he had an uncomfortable moment, when leaves and twigs hit his face and left long scratches. But he came to the ground relatively unharmed and not crashing down after the trees messed up his fall. He cut himself out of the lines as fast as he could in case they needed to make a quick getaway. Barnes had arranged for a Maquis agent from Lyon to get them here and Tony carefully scanned the darkness between the trees. It was unlikely that they had met the exact coordinates in their fall and he wasn’t surprised that nobody was around.

Barnes crashed down behind him, swearing. Apparently he’d had a bit more trouble than Tony.

“Are you alright?” Tony asked as he stepped closer.

“Came down a bit harder than expected.” Barnes was untangling himself from the fabric and Tony helped him get out. He was sitting on the ground and was cutting himself out of the harness of his chute. “My ankle got twisted when I was knocked down.”

“How bad is it?”

“Not as bad as it could be,” Barnes said and bravely tried to get up on his own and managed to stand. He was limping a little. Not a promising start, Tony thought. But things like that happen. He helped gather the now useless fabric together and then found a good place for it to be hidden away in a hollow tree trunk. Usually he’d make sure that it couldn’t be found at all, but making a fire out here would only make them more noticeable and they wanted to be in and out of here as fast as possible and with the fewest possible number of people even aware of what they were doing.

“We need to get to the meeting point. You said it was a good way away for safety reasons?”

They picked up their equipment, shouldered their bags. Fury had equipped them with false passports and papers, even though all of them knew Tony would have to be very lucky for that kind of deception to work. He was sure he’d been officially branded a terrorist by the Germans after the Iron Man incident at their weapons research facility. Although people were less likely to know his face here, he had been the focus of enough international articles, and some of his adventures had been translated. Surely the Gestapo would at least have his physical description.

It took a moment for them to get their bearings in the darkness and then followed a path towards their rendezvous point. Barnes didn’t say anything, didn’t show he was in pain, but he bravely hobbled along until Tony offered him a shoulder to lean on.

The sergeant didn’t protest and whispered a grateful “thanks” as he leaned on Tony.

“Let's get this over with,” Tony muttered.

He hated to rely on people he didn’t know well. One of the reasons why he had never properly enlisted or worked with anyone but his own team was because he had terrible trust issues. Even Barnes, who in his worry and his shows of animosity towards Tony seemed genuine enough, was an unknown quantity to him.

“Will Rhodey be alright?”

“Up above? He’s safer than we are. As long as he doesn’t get detected and stays out of range, he’ll be fine.”

“Where is he going to take the plane now?”

“Don’t worry about that. He’ll be there when we need him.”

Barnes huffed. “Is this how you make all you plans? ‘He’ll be there when we need him?’”

“I hate sharing information when it’s not necessary,” Tony admitted. “It’s not personal.”

“But you don’t trust me,” Barnes said through gritted teeth.

Tony chuckled. “That feeling seems to be mutual.”

Barnes huffed again. “Nick trusts you, so I trust you. I just don’t think you’re as amazing as you let other people believe you are.”

That was not even that far off from the truth and Tony tried not to laugh too loudly and draw any unwanted attention their way. The woods were silent and dark this night, but the activities of the French resistance were known to the Gestapo and much depended on secrecy. You never knew who was watching from the dark, waiting to gather information, spying on those who defied the German oppressors, or who was spying on the foreign spies. Often the arrest of one agent who might give the Gestapo access to sensible information could lead to a number of arrests in a matter of hours. And whoever got arrested was then the next liability, likely to be put to torture until he gave up the names of friends and compatriots.

Tony hated to get himself into the kind of situations where his own safety depended on too many factors he couldn't control. Not that he lead a particularly safe life, but still he preferred if he was the one who controlled his own fate, decided when to put himself in mortal danger.

Which was why he had taken some precautions.

Nick Fury wasn’t the only person who had contacts.

It was cold and damp out here and a slight chill was creeping into his bones, even as he was helping Barnes along. They were slowly getting closer to their rendezvous point, stumbling along and checking their exact position a few times. Tony had not yet revealed to Barnes that he had a Stark patented long range transmitter in his jacket pocket. He was going to use it to tell Rhodey where he needed the armor dropped, before Rhodey was setting the plane for a home trip or joined them if necessary. For the time being an American Aircraft carrier was waiting for him somewhere in the Atlantic ocean, where he could get some rest and make sure to be ready, whenever assistance or extraction was needed.

Barnes stumbled over a thick branch in their path and Tony caught him, before he could fall. It was too dark to see clearly, but Tony was glad that his companion was already stepping more securely than he had right after the fall. Surely, it couldn’t be as serious as it had seemed at first. It was not a bad omen, just a minor hindrance on their first night in enemy territory. Nothing a bit of rest and a good night's sleep couldn’t make better.

Suddenly Barnes stopped and tugged at his arm to do the same, staring ahead as if he was trying to see in the dark.

Then Tony could hear it too. A running motor in the distance. A car. A truck maybe. Or maybe more than one. The crouched down and listened. The car wasn’t moving. Then the sound ceased.

“That’s the right direction,” Barnes said, but sounded grim.

“There was supposed to be on person waiting for us, with forged papers and…”

“Bicycles,” Barnes finished. “A car would be nice and convenient, but…”

“They would never risk it with the curfew.” They were close enough so that they could see each other’s eyes narrow in the dark. “Could be nothing.”

“Could mean trouble.”

Then there were voices in the dark, not close-by, but drawing nearer slowly. Not one voice. At least three men. When Barnes gave him a sign, Tony got up carefully and helped the other man to move. Slowly and as silently as possible they edged away from the people making their way through the underbrush, both listening for anything that would give them a hint of who was out there. They had reached one of the broader tree trunks they’d passed minutes before and gave themselves a minute to stay there to just listen.

Two men were walking past them, maybe 500 meter to their right and they crouched low to stay out of sight and use the night for cover. The men weren’t alone either. A whole group of people had arrived. Clearly it wasn’t their contact.

“Sie müssen hier sein,” one man spoke in German. “Wir haben das Flugzeug gesehen und der Informant hat uns diesen Ort als Treffpunkt genannt. Sie müssen aus dieser Richtung kommen.”

“Still,” the other one ordered his companion to be silent.

He couldn’t know he was too late. Their targets knew now they were headed for a trap. They waited silently as the two Sicherheitsdienst men walked deeper into the woods.

“Etwas gefunden?” a gruff voice asked loudly as a big man followed the two, appearing suddenly and much too close to where they were hiding. Tony’s breath caught inside his throat. He was not wearing the standard uniform and there was no SS sign on the lapels, but a roundish emblem that Tony couldn’t make out in the night. “Strucker will sie lebend.”

The familiar name sent a shiver down his spine.

Barnes looked at him, and in the night it was hard to tell if there were any signs of fear and nervousness. He gestured for them to move away in the opposite direction. When he wanted to start on that track Tony shook his head and pointed away into yet another direction. Although Barnes didn’t seem to know what he was up to, he followed his lead. They kept from running, there was no way for Barnes to move at a faster pace at the moment and the noise caused by running would just draw attention. They walked silently for half an hour, through the cold, damp night, careful about every single step.

“We can be glad they had no dogs with them.”

“Dogs would have given them away. They’ll bring dogs when they figure out we are not going to show at the rendezvous point.”

“So what now, Stark?”

They were still whispering, making sure not to give the men on their trail a way to locate them. “We use the backup plan.”

“There was one?”

“Be glad I’m paranoid. There is always a backup plan,” Tony whispered, all too cheerfully. Now this was feeling more like a situation he could handle, than when it had all just been about keeping a low profile and infiltrating an enemy facility. Stumbling through the woods at night, thugs right behind him, that had the right touch of a Tony Stark Adventure.

He pulled the transmitter out of his pocket and started to make some adjustments. Barnes didn’t give any sign of surprise, but he watched Tony’s every move. “Požar,” Tony whispered into the device.

“Ya ponimaju,” a female voice answered quietly.

“Fire?” Barnes asked.

“You speak Russian?”

“Part of my job,” Barnes retorted grimly. “There are many communist anarchists in America that bear watching.” Apparently he didn’t like the thought of involving someone who hadn’t been cleared for their mission.

“You’ll like this one,” Tony promised.

“Fire?”

“Means we’ve run into trouble. We use one-word phrases to make sure that whatever is overheard doesn’t give our enemies too many details.”

They walked down the next slope and the next. They must have slowly been going for over an hour and the cold was getting uncomfortable. Barnes remained silent, concentrating on getting forward as quickly as his ankle allowed and probably pondering the fate of their contact, or the whole cell of resistance fighters from Lyon. Tony had a feeling they’d been played all along, and that was no promising start to finding their lost soldier-spy.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“New rendezvous,” Tony explained. “I set up an emergency meeting place in case anything went wrong.”

“Emergency meeting place,” Barnes repeated. “I’m not sure if I’m impressed or worried.”

“Be impressed when we’re out of here, until then you can be worried.” They were nearly over another hill top now and Tony hoped it wouldn’t be much further. If the Gestapo came back with dogs they needed to be as far away as possible. “You also had a back-up plan, didn’t you? Don’t tell me Fury didn’t see this coming.”

“I wouldn’t say he saw it coming. I’d say he’s paranoid.”

“So there’s another meet-up.”

Barnes made a open handed gesture. “We would have made our way to a farm on the other side of the woods.”

“And aren’t you happy that this won’t be necessary?” a female voice asked from the darkness. Tony hadn’t heard any footsteps approach or any other sounds that would have given away the person standing beside a tree now, wearing a dark outfit that nearly melted into the night. Only her pale skin and fiery red hair gave her away in the scarce moonlight.

“Natasha!”

She was in front of him with one quick movement and hugged him briefly. “It’s good to see you, Tony. Although as always the circumstances are dire.”

“I know, I know. I never call when it’s just for pleasure.”

“The woods are swarming with Gestapo. Quickly now,” she said and pulled Tony along and nodded to Barnes to follow. “We can talk when we are out of danger.”

Chapter Text

Natasha brought them into the city without any trouble. She had forged a special permit for her to be out with her “driver” after curfew and flirted outrageously with the German soldier who made them stop two miles before Lyon, while Tony huddled beneath a big blanket at her feet in in the backseat of the car. They could be happy that in the darkness and with enough distraction the young soldier didn’t so much as give the car more than a cursory glance and then waved at Barnes to go on driving.

“Are they looking for us?” Barnes asked.

“They are always looking for someone,” Natasha calmly informed him from the backseat, smiling down at a disgruntled Tony. “But with Tony in town we shouldn’t take any chances.”

Tony stayed down on his knees and smiled up at her. “I love that you think that highly of me. But I’m not usually this unlucky. We nearly jumped into the arms of the enemy there. If I hadn’t set up this little back-up plan with you, our adventure would have been over before it started.”

Barnes looked at him over his shoulder. “Who else did you tell about our coming?”

“Me? Natasha, I think Mr. Barnes here isn’t sure you are trustworthy. Are you perhaps a Gestapo informant?”

“Not me, my dear,” she said, with her near perfect English that just sounded more alluring with the undeniable hint of an accent. “But your liaison must have walked right into a trap…”

“Or, they were the traitor.” Barnes looked nervously back to where he was driving. “Where am I going, Miss…?”

“Romanova,” she supplied. “The next left, dear.”

They arrived in a darkened street and ditched the car, followed Natasha through backstreets to a nice town house. She set them up in a flat that seemed too empty to be anything but a temporary hideout. “It belongs to a girl named Claudette. She’s in Paris at the moment and she knows what I’m doing here.”

Barnes had cleaned up first, walking now with a slight limp but nothing more severe.

“So how do you two know each other?” he asked, before Tony could make his way to the bathroom and get cleaned up himself.

Natasha laughed. “I tried to kill him,” she explained, as she took some men’s clothing from a drawer and shoved it at Tony. “I knew your size. I didn’t know about your sergeant here.”

“So the first thing you do when the Gestapo is after you, is run to a beautiful woman who tried to kill you before?”

“No,” Tony said and smiled, pleased with himself for the moment. “The first thing I do before embarking on a mission behind enemy lines is contact an old friend.”

The hearty laugh of Natasha Romanova followed him into the bathroom. He took his time cleaning up, one by one setting every piece of equipment to the side and taking stock. He still carried the long range transmitter and two of their supermachine guns that were small enough to be carried like handguns, complete with ammunition.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in comfortable clean and dry clothes, the notebook securely stuffed into his shirt and the guns hidden behind his brown leather jacket, he could hear the conversation drift over from the living room. Apparently Natasha had provided food.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Natasha said, when he stepped closer. “It’s not like I cooked it myself.”

“It’s not your cooking skills I’m afraid of, darling. Once burned twice shy.”

“Smart,” she said and smiled and when Barnes looked at them questioningly Tony added for his benefit: “She tried to poison me at a restaurant in Paris.”

“Drug, I tried to drug, you, Tony. We wanted you alive.”

“That’s comforting.”

“The time I came at you with a knife in Madripoor, because you had found that vibranium dragon, I actually tried.”

“Ah,” he said, as if the details of that escaped him entirely. “I remember Madripoor. The hotel was so nice.”

Natasha gave him a sly look. “Only the hotel? You’re supposed to be a gentleman.”

Tony laughed and took his own place at the table.

“So you adventure together?”

“That’s not what I would call it,” Natasha said, her voice now more cautious.

She always seemed like an open person right up until you came close and realized that she was keeping her own business as private as possible. How on earth had Tony ended up living surrounded by so many spies? “What she means is, we were working against each other. In fact she had initially been hired to steal some tech from Stark Industries and then came after me to Madripoor. But we came to an agreement.”

She smiled. “That’s not what I would call it either.”

Barnes’ frown deepened. “And you trust her? No offense.” He smiled at her as if he wanted to tell her that he was questioning Tony’s judgment and wasn’t trying to offend her.

Tony grinned at him lopsidedly and then looked over at Natasha and made an open armed gesture. “I trust her with my life.”

She made no move to pat his arm or smile at him like Pepper would do when he said similar things about her, but the grave nod she gave was more than enough from someone as guarded as Natasha. “We are friends,” she declared in her accented English. “And we help each other out.”

While Barnes stared at her for a moment longer, Natasha turned to Tony. “I’m surprised you actually came here, Tony. I tracked Vanko.”

“Did you now, darling? Let me guess where he is.”

“You were right about that. They took him in, took his research and for all we know he’s waiting for his execution now.”

“Professor Anton Vanko? I thought he was dead?” Barnes eyes had gone wide and Natasha and Tony turned to him with frowning expressions of their own.

“You’ve heard of him?” Natasha asked in a deceptively light tone. It wasn't hard ti imagine a knife falling into her hand under the table.

With a sheepish grin Barnes admitted: “He tried to build an Iron Man of his own and as you aren’t sharing the army became interested.”

“He’s not a traitor.” The frown on Natasha’s face gave way to a hard expression. It was always eerie to see her grow cold like this.

“He was ‘forcefully’ recruited. Like the man we are looking for. Professor Erskine.”

“Is that why you were foolish enough to come?”

Tony shrugged. “You know I don’t really need a good reason to be foolish.” When she didn’t laugh he shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “As I told you we are here to get out Dr. Erskine and find out how far his research has gone. We are also here…” and he nodded at Barnes, “to find out what happened to one of our own spies. He was working in Paris, but recently had drawn closer to the same scientific Gestapo division that might have taken Vanko.”

Without being prompted, Natasha got up and opened a drawer, she opened a hidden compartment there and took out something from a file. Barnes watched her with rapt attention. Tony was ready to revise his opinion of him now. He seemed the kind of guy you went on adventures with, the kind that kept a level head in the face of trouble, and he liked that in a man, in anyone. Apparently Barnes liked that in a woman, if the looks he was shooting in Natasha direction were anything to go by.

“Who is this?” she asked and dropped a slightly out of focus photograph onto the desk where all of them could see it.

Barnes drew in a surprised breath and Tony felt his own face fall. Steven Rogers was being held by two people in the dark black uniforms that usually designated Gestapo officers. The insignia on their lapels wasn’t the one you’d expect though. But he knew it. Too well.

“Where was this taken?”

“Two days ago in Avignon. Apparently an agent calling himself Nomad had reached out to Vanko before, so we followed him up.”

“Well,” Tony said to Barnes who was staring at the picture white-faced and shocked. “At least now we know a bit more about what happened to our lost captain.”

“If you want to get him before there’s nothing to save, we need to hurry, darling.”

He hoped that meant Natasha would be helping them out here.

The problem with contacting someone who was part of the resistance movement was that only a handful of people would know them by their real name. The other was that someone like that had reasons to stay away from people who were asking too many questions. Barnes had the names and descriptions of some liaisons, some descriptions and some information about meeting places, none of them confirmed.

Natasha went out carefully to get something more from her own contacts. “They are keeping to themselves,” she cautioned. “There are some disagreements about leadership.”

“Aren’t there always?” Barnes asked without even looking up. He had been very focused since they’d learned that Rogers really had been taken in. “We need to know what happened there yesterday. We need to know if some of our people were arrested before this went down, or if there’s a traitor. If we have a mole, then everyone might be in danger. Their flats and real names, everything might have been passed on.”

“There’s only so much that someone can pass on,” Tony pointed out. “There’s usually a go between and he usually only knows one or two people by description. The whole system is set up that way for a reason. You’d have to get someone who is trustworthy and higher in rank to get the names of a whole cell.”

“Someone like Steve.” Of course, Barnes had a point.

Natasha had dressed in a tasteful but not too flashy dress and was ready to go out. “I’ll see if anyone knows where they’ve taken him to. If he’s in a prison somewhere then someone will know. We do have means of communication with prisoners.”

“And we’ll try and meet with Peggy.”

“Peggy?”

“She goes by 13,” Barnes said reluctantly. “Steve’s partner.”

Tony wasn’t even sure she would be able to help them. If she knew where Rogers was, then perhaps she had already put her own plans into motion or — what was more likely — had gone deeper into hiding. The way things were going it was already becoming clear that this wasn’t going to be a clean extraction.

“Stay put, Tony,” Natasha said sternly. “I’ll go with James. We’re not even sure, 13 is here. She might be in Paris or who knows where, but we’ll try to find her. You stay here. If they are looking for someone then it’s you.”

He rolled his eyes at her stern tone. She’d known him long enough to understand that this whole secrecy thing wasn’t really for him. He might as well go out and play distraction. But for that to work out under these circumstances he needed the armor. Or at least someone who he could trust at his back. The only one around was Natasha, but she and ‘James’ had other plans.

As soon as the two of them had left, Tony set up the transmitter. He and Jarvis had worked for months until it had been small enough to fit into his pockets and he hoped it would be as undetectable as they’d hoped it would be. He sent a quick coded message to Rhodey and Jarvis to let them know that plans had already changed and that he wanted the armor close-by before things got any worse. It would take them a few hours to get anywhere close enough to drop it, but that was better than facing this out in the open and with nothing more than the supermachine guns. He could wait a few hours. They sent two four digit number codes back to him. The first 3490 to let him know they were already on their way and 1610 to indicate their expected arrival time. He had a feeling that they had quite literally already been on their way, because Tony had failed to make the promised check in call.

At least he could always count on his own people to make the right decisions.

Something told him that what had happened wasn’t just a simple matter of one traitor in their chain of resistance workers. It wasn’t unlikely that one guy in the chain of secrecy took money from both sides. Sometimes falsified papers led to investigation and people ended up in a cell for interrogation. That might be what had happened to the person who was supposed to pick them up. Tony’s instincts told him it was worse than that, though.

And sitting here made him feel like he was waiting for the inevitable to happen.

Not, because he didn’t trust Natasha. No, they weren’t always on the same side, but he could trust Natasha to always be Natasha. She had training and she had the orders to go with it, but she’d also become a good friend. They both knew that someday they might find themselves on different sides again, but for the moment that didn’t matter. They had a common enemy and common interests.

With a heavy sigh he sat down at the table. He looked at the photos that Natasha had left behind.

Rogers looked just like he’d looked on all the pictures he’d seen of him so far. He was a thin man, not small exactly but looking frail. He had piercing eyes that hinted at strength of character. Yes, the eyes were remarkable. You might overlook someone like Rogers if you met him in the street, but Tony was sure his eyes were memorable. He studied the pictures of him being dragged away to a car. He was slumped over a bit on the second, and his left eye was already swollen shut. They had to take him down before dragging him away. He hoped for Barnes’ sake that Rogers had important information, because that would mean they’d be keeping him alive for a while, trying to get it. He hoped for Rogers’ sake that he had not much to give, had spilled his guts, and had made them end it quickly.

Somehow the thought of someone like Steven Rogers in the hands of Hydra was worse than the simple thought of another good man having perished. This guy had done the impossible in making Fury even take him on. And he'd done it because he wanted to fight for what he thought was right. Tony didn’t want that to become twisted and ripped apart.

He studied his captors for a while longer. The round emblem of the skull with the cephalopod arms curling below it. He’d seen it once or twice before. He knew now what it meant. It wasn’t as obvious or on the nose as using a Hydra as symbol. It was clever and elegant. Where the name meant to communicate the power they presented, the invincibility that came with their ideas planted into many heads, the skull with the octopus arms represented the hidden influence. By now Tony doubted that even Hitler or the higher generals in the Reich knew what they were breeding in their midst. Hydra was already aiming to go on even if — when — Germany lost the war.

Pushing the chair back he started pacing. After a while he carefully put the transmitter back into his pocket and looked out of the window, careful to stay mostly hidden behind a curtain. Movements outside caught his eye. Perhaps he was beginning to be paranoid to an unbearable degree, but there were two men sitting in a car opposite the house and the sole fact that they were there was enough to make him nervous. He stayed to observe. After several minutes he was ready to abandon his post and find something better to do, then a big blond man in plain worker's clothes passed the car on the other side of the street and Tony caught the slightest inclination of his head before he changed his direction and moved directly towards the house Tony was currently in and stopped to lean at a lamppost as if he was waiting for someone. A minute later the car went off.

That didn’t seem right. Too scripted. Scripts meant purpose, careful planning, orders.

He looked for his possible escape routes, decided that it was too early to decide to climb out the window and make a run for it, but he started gathering the papers Natasha had left behind just in case and then methodically started to look for other incriminating information she might have stacked here. Leaving behind evidence was always an inconvenience.

Stacking everything — passports, some fake permits, two letters and the the file on “Nomad” — and carefully putting it into his jacket, he pondered his options. If this house was indeed compromised it begged the question of how that had happened. Presently he had no fear for Natasha who would know to stay away if things went wrong but for himself. Someone seemed to be a step ahead of him and he hated the general feeling of being played.

Carefully he moved back to the window to survey the street, his mind already made up about leaving this place to find a better hide-out. But a quiet knock on the apartment door let him freeze in his tracks. Down on the street that one man was still waiting, checking his watch and the street occasionally as if he was waiting for a friend. The knock came again and Tony carefully picked the supermachine gun from his pocket. It was small but had enough rounds to take out even a group of people. The question was how many people would be out there ready to take him on. When the knock came again, it was still quiet, as if someone was trying not to knock with too much force, but the rhythm had changed. It came once, four times, twice, once and finally three times, then it stopped.

Tony stared.

Another code from Marvels. One of their number codes transformed into knocking for one of Pepper’s novels, because Tony had not wanted to give away too much about the gadgets he carried around with himself. In the novel the code had been declared to mean: “Coast is clear” or something along those lines. In their usual code it meant “Enemy located”. Both had some merit in this situation, but with Pepper, Rhodey and Jarvis nowhere close-by, it left only the option that this was the code taken straight from Marvels.

The knocking took up again and Tony moved carefully closer, gun at the ready.

“Mr. Stark?” He had never heard the female voice before, and he was sure he wouldn’t have forgotten a suave British accent like that. But the fact that the person on the other side knew he was here, knew him by name, seemed to confirm his suspicions about the man he’d seen outside. “Nomad sends me. Steve Rogers sends me. He has a message for you.”

“Which quite obviously might still be a trap, darling,” he said loud enough for her to hear.

“I’m sorry, there isn’t much I can tell you to convince you otherwise. Steve said you’d recognize the code.” He knew none of that meant he wasn’t being played here. Any number of people could have made the note in that Erskine notebook, forging Rogers handwriting, anyone could have sifted through the Tony Stark Adventures to find enough codes and mysteries to allude to, calculating that something like it would appeal to his ego. Somehow it didn’t seem like Strucker’s style though.

Holding the gun in front of him in case his gut instinct was wrong he carefully opened the door. An attractive brunette with tastefully made up hair, wearing a long coat and a blue hat stood before him, also holding a gun at her side. “I’d prefer you to let me in, but I fear we won’t have enough time.”

“You must be 13,” he hazarded a guess when she made no move to shoot him.

Her eyes flickered, surprised, then she looked him over carefully and nodded. “Peggy Carter. It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Stark. Although you were warned not to come to France.”

He acknowledged that piece of information with a nod. She knew about the mysterious message. “Plans had already been set into motion,” he said, laying it on thick. “I hate changing travel plans. It's a pain.”

“Never mind that,” she said and tried to get a look at the near empty apartment. “Anything you need to take with you? Guards are watching the street.”

“I noticed. In fact I was about to leave.” He pulled the door shut behind him and gestured for her to lead the way.

She stared at him surprised, likely having foreseen protests. Shaking her head a bit she grabbed a little note from her pocket and shoved it at him. It was the same handwriting and the same code from the notebook, written on a torn and crumpled piece of paper. He tried to get the code right in his head, but it took him a moment until it all rearranged itself in his head to work like letters. “Trust Peggy. She will get you to safety. Armand Borlieu has been arrested. Your mission has been compromised. Nomad.” There was a small postscript with the little stick figures that was smudged a little, but he understood it to mean: “I told you so.”

Of all the stupid things, that made him smile.

“I thought Rogers has been arrested,” he said to poke a hole in her story and see how she would deal with it.

But her expression turned nervous and she slowly started her descent down the steps, careful not to make too much noise. “We don’t want someone to notice,” she explained quietly. Then with a sigh she answered his question: “Steve was arrested two days ago. He’s being held at a facility close to Avignion, where they are holding a number of political prisoners and also Dr. Erskine.”

He followed her down the steps. “Then who wrote this?” He held up the note.

“Don’t be dense. Steve, of course. We have ways of communicating with prisoners as long as they are held inside city confines and there are windows. I don’t know how he got the pencil, but the message was passed on between prisoners and finally dropped on the street from a window. Steve is still alive and everyone in the prison who has heard of Nomad and isn't a traitor is willing to help him out.”

“How did he know where you’d find me?” he asked.

She stopped in front of one of the apartments downstairs and expertly started to pick the lock. “He must have overheard something.”

“In prison?”

“You’d be surprised how overconfident torturers and jailers get with information when they think you have nowhere to go.”

“I fear I know too much about that, Ms. Carter,” he said.

“I call myself Abbott. That’s what my secondary set of falsified papers says.”

“Ms. Abbott, then.”

The door sprang open and she gestured him inside. After following him in she made a straight line for the window on the other side and opened it, surveying the street for but a moment, before climbing out in front of him. Not needing to be told, he followed her into the dark alley. “My car is waiting for us on the other side of the block. Let’s make it quick. You understand what’s at stake.”

“I do have friends who left here this morning.”

Peggy nodded in understanding. “Let’s hope they weren’t apprehended as they left and are smart enough to figure out they shouldn’t come back here.”

Tony didn’t like the thought of letting Natasha and James Barnes walk into a trap that was meant for him, but then he remembered that Natasha was too smart to not see the signs, and if Barnes really trained their friend Nomad, then there was no reason to doubt his ability to evade their enemies either.

“So what’s our plan?” Tony asked, in his mind already going through his own options. There was an astoundingly well informed prisoner who was likely to be tortured to death, but who still managed to get messages to him, there was a scientist on the verge of a great discovery that he shouldn’t be allowed to make for the wrong side, there was Hydra doing what they needed to do to further their own goals — and there was Tony and the mystery of whatever it was that Erskine thought he might have found hidden away in the ruins of ancient temple ruins only miles from here.

“We get Erskine. He’s top priority.”

To her credit, Peggy Carter didn’t even hesitate a second before giving him the answer. It was obvious that she had feelings for Rogers, who had been her compatriot for a long time. Or at least she was governed by loyalty. She knew just as well as Tony what the chances were of a man like Rogers surviving the kind of interrogation he would be subjected to. He was stubborn and brave, but he’d read the files: His body was not cut out for this.

Stronger men had been killed during “simple” interrogations.

“Steve would want us to,” she added.

And Tony was beginning to think that she owed a lot to “Nomad” too. “I wish I could have met him,” he said. “He sounds like a piece of work.”

“He would have loved to meet you, too. You were always his hero. And you are piece of work if all the stories are to believed.”

It should be flattering, but he remembered what Barnes had had to say about that too well, and part of him was just sorry that his own adventures had led Rogers to a place of no return.

The least he could do now was to do what he had come to do. Erskine was only a step on the way. Hydra was casting a net for Tony, but Tony was waiting for the moment to turn the table. Erskine and Projekt Wiedergeburt were more than bait probably, but the information leaked about them was meant to lure Tony in. But the bait could work for both sides just as well. They had used him to find something they wanted before. He could lure them into a trap that way too.

He sat down in the driver’s seat without prompting. The gun wielding Ms. Carter didn’t protest and gave him directions that would help them avoid the kind of attention they didn’t need right now. And they were off to the next stage of this game.

Tony was glad he’d always been a bit of a gambler.

“Look, Carter,” he said slowly, enunciating every single word. “I know you’ve been playing this undercover game for a long time. But that’s not really how I work.”

“But we do know about the work you do for Nick Fury. Don’t tell me you don’t play the undercover game when clearly you do.” She sounded stern and had her hands on her hips. It was like he’d had taken Pepper along for the ride after all. “It would be easy to set you and Erskine on a train and send you closer to a place where a plane could come down without danger.”

“The beard stays and that’s the end of this discussion.”

Peggy Carter rolled her eyes. “Men. Always so dramatic and stubborn.” She was holding a shaving razor already as if she had been completely sure he’d agree to this. “Is it really more important to keep up your image than to stay undetected until you’re out of the country again?”

“Look, I don’t need to be the one who gets Erskine out. We should see to it that Romanova and Barnes meet up with us and then Barnes can do that.”

“Bucky isn’t going to leave without, Steve,” she said shortly. “They are like brothers. He will not leave before he has tried everything in his power and failed.” There was a fire in her eyes he recognized. This was how he would look like if it were Pepper or Rhodey in there.

“Steve must be a remarkable guy. To go into danger when it would be so easy to be declared unfit and stay safely home. He must have believed in what he was doing here. I’m beginning to be really sad that they got to him before he could tell me all this himself.”

Peggy smiled at him sadly. “He’s remarkable. The most stubborn idiot I’ve ever met. And I've met idiots. I was worried about him when he came here. Had a fever and looked like he would just keel over on me. I thought who in the world would send someone like that here? And then he surprised me over and over again. He was over the moon when he heard that Fury knew you personally and that you were going undercover to work for him. It fit right in with the hero he admired.”

“He’s had it all wrong then,” Tony admitted. “I’m an adventurer. Not a hero. There is a big difference. Heroes? If you’d asked me a few years ago I might have said they are something that died with the Greeks and their myths.”

“And now?” Peggy asked, quietly.

“Now there is a war on. And just like the one before it that makes the best and worst come out in everyone.”

She nodded. Then she snapped the shaving knife open with a practiced motion. “So I don’t get to shave your beard, Mr. Stark?”

“Not today. When I meet Baron von Strucker again I want him to know exactly who is breaking his nose.”

That made her smile. “You’re so confident of getting in a punch before he has you shot.”

Oh, he was confident about this alright. “He won’t even know what hit him.”

“You’ll be glad to know then that I think I know where we can find him and Erskine. But we can’t just walk into that place, just the two of us. What about that robot of yours? You don’t conveniently have it stored away somewhere.”

“That would be irresponsible.”

Her answering grin was challenging. “As irresponsible as not wanting to disguise yourself?”

Peggy brought him to a safe house. It was another apartment that belonged to someone involved with the resistance. “Steve used to live here for a while,” she said. “Before he moved because his cover had been blown and he didn’t want to compromise Monique and her husband.”

Tony was gratified to find an apartment that was furnished and not as empty as the one Natassha had brought them to. “A lot of people risking their necks here.”

“Not for our sake.” Peggy shrugged. “For their country. I sent my post box, Antoine, out to try and get news of Bucky and your friend.”

“Bucky,” he repeated. “He lets you call him that?”

“That’s what everyone calls him.” She shrugged. “Make yourself at home. Tea?” She was already moving to the stove. He’d prefer a cup of coffee, but didn’t voice the thought. It was unlikely that a  French home would have anything but Ersatz coffee anyway. Instead he looked around.

There was a small bureau in the corner and nothing on there looked like incriminating material. He sat down there anyway, because something was peaking out under a stack of papers that seemed familiar. When he pulled it free he realized it was one of the early Marvels adventures. It had a greenish worn cover and on it Tony and Rhodey were crouching in front of a jungle temple. “The Curse of the Jaguar” it was called and the author name on the cover was still Virgil’s. The company had asked them to adopt a house name for the authors even then, because it was just the done thing for serialized adventures. But Tony had insisted that there should be a real name on it. If Virgil went around the globe with them, risking his neck same as everyone else this was only right. Now it was the only thing the world would remember him for.

“He really loved that one.”

It was clear who they were talking about. “I haven’t seen this one in years.” A cover of it used to hang in his New York office. He had no idea what had happened to it. Had been replaced by a better one probably.

He skimmed through the pages, remembering some of the goofy illustrations and the exaggerated style in which Virgil had described the discovery of the Jaguar statuette. A piece of paper fell out of the pages and with a slight rustle ended up on the floor. It was a drawing in the same efficient, clean style that he knew from the notebook. It was one of the scenes that had not been illustrated, of Tony climbing the temple steps up to the altar where the jade jaguar had been placed. It was nice and even just with the pencil outlines Tony could see that it would have made a better cover than the original one.

Rogers really was a fan.

Had been.

Was.

The least they could do was to believe he was still alive.

He heard a key move in the lock and his first response was to reach for his gun, but when he turned and looked up he came face to face with James Barnes, who was half standing inside the door.

“There you are,” Tony said after a second of surprise, smiling as Natasha stepped slowly inside the flat behind their companion.

She seemed to take in stride that Tony was here. “Good to see you,” she said and hugged him. “We thought you’d been taken from the flat.”

“Did they wait for you?”

Natasha nodded. “They were watching closely who was coming or going. We knew something was up.”

“Then I realized I still had the key to this place, back from when Steve lived here with you.” He held the key up to Peggy.

Peggy laughed and then turned to Tony. “This makes all of this so much easier, doesn’t it?”

“You said we needed more people we could trust. And here they are.”

“Good,” she declared and pushed a cup of tea into Natasha’s hands. “It seems we have a plan.”

The facility was an old prison that had been taken over by the Reichssicherheitsdienst. Recently there had lots of movement surrounding the building. The information that Erskine had been moved here was trustworthy, but it still seemed like big risk to take without a guarantee that he hadn’t already been brought somewhere else. They had good information on how the building was set up. A prisoner who had been moved to Paris and escaped from the truck had given them some information on how the rooms were used and from that they had made some assumptions about where they would find Erskine.

Other leads hadn’t turned up so far. Not even obviously faked ones. Natasha stressed the fact to caution them.

Tony didn’t even bother to reassure her. “They want us to know.”

“Which means they want us to come.”

He shook his head. “They want me to come, Natasha.” Three pairs of eyes settled on him and he knew this had been coming. “Perhaps I should go and give them what they want.”

“What makes you so sure this is about you?” Through all the planning Barnes had actually started to look at Tony with some respect. Dragging someone out of danger had that sort of effect, Tony found.

He pulled out the pictures of Steve being dragged away and held them up for everyone to see.

“So, you did clean out my apartment before leaving.”

“Not much to clean out, Natasha, but I took what I found. I didn’t want to leave too much incriminating material behind.” He pointed at the uniforms. “These are not your usual Gestapo officers. These are officers serving a special scientific division that comes complete with its own agenda. I’ve clashed with them before.”

“Is that why Steve warned you not to come to France?” Peggy was quickly putting all the pieces together and he was thankful that he wouldn't have to spell it all out for them. Rogers had gone through some length to warn him and still he was here.

“I’m not sure how much Rogers even knows about that, Ms. Carter. I’m just sure that these are the people who spirited away Erskine and his family. When Rogers got involved he might have stumbled into something bigger.”

“But why do you think…?”

“They have as much use for me as they have for Erskine,” he said, reluctant to tell them how personal this was. He knew he might end up being a liability even and it was easier not to have to fight the only backup he had because they were treating him like one. “They’ve had plans for me since before the war. In fact the dear Dr. Nefaria was working for them for quite a long time, before she betrayed me and we all very nearly ended up dead because of it.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I knew she was a snake.”

He disregarded that comment, aware of the mutual dislike the two women had felt for each other during their short “acquaintance” in Turkey. And because he knew this was his chance to turn the attention away from himself he added: “They took Pepper and tortured her. Which is why we took the Iron Man out for the first time.”

Success was imminent. Not even Natasha had a question for more details. It was enough that both sides had reasons for wanting revenge. It was personal. And Tony was in possession of skills that would make him an asset to both sides. There was no need at all to mention Zemo and his long standing fear of ending up like his father.

“What does it mean for us?” Peggy asked. “Should we use you as bait?”

He shook his head. “I think it’s too late for that. They are waiting for me to come to them and I’m sure they expect me to send Iron Man in first. They’ll be prepared. Highly prepared. They won’t be prepared for us to sneak in without making too much noise though. They'll expect Tony Stark and Iron Man crashing their party — not a sneaky band of spies.”

Finally Barnes looked at Peggy, considering his words. “What will happen if I get taken? Is there another prison they would take me too? Would they put me up right there? If, say, I make it seem like I’m trying to get secrets or communicate with the prisoners?”

“Not if you get caught trying to communicate with a prisoner there, James. They’ll take you in for interrogation and then send you on only if they find you are of no consequence to their cause.”

“Or if they shoot me on the spot.” Which they all knew was a possibility.

“You want to let yourself be captured, Barnes? That’s risky.”

“I’m not worried. The great Tony Stark will come to my rescue and by then I’ll know where they hold Erskine. And don’t tell me you weren’t about tell me we were supposed to use you as bait despite your own assurances that they are waiting for you. Because you were, and we both know it.” The amiably, near-wolfish smile Barnes threw his way reminded him unexpectedly of Rhodey and he grinned back like he’d been caught in the act.

He was beginning to see where Rogers had learned to be the best undercover agent in Fury’s little outfit.

Well, they had a plan now.

It was a stupid, daredevil plan.

The kind of plan he excelled at.

“You’re not the shiniest treasure I ever came to retrieve, but I’m sure I can manage, Barnes. But I think I have a better plan.”

“What?”

“We will use me as distraction, while the ladies go to work. The two of us go in together. In fact you will be the one who brings me to them. I know you speak Russian. How good is your German?”

Barnes suddenly grinned. “Haben Sie etwa meine Akte gelesen, Herr Stark?” he asked in slightly accented German.

“Fury, did not actually provide me with a file or any other documents on you, Barnes. But he provided me with lots of information on both Erskine and our boy Nomad. And you said you trained together with Rogers, in fact you said you had a significant hand in his training. I surmised you knew your way around undercover work if you’re the one who taught him a trick or two for survival.”

“Your Russian is good,” Natasha added. “Your French isn’t anything to speak of though. So we were wondering.”

Peggy looked between them uneasily. “His accent isn’t perfect.”

“She’s right about that.” Barnes shrugged his shoulders. “It was enough to fool people in other situations before.”

“We do not have the time to set him up with the necessary amount of papers, Tony. His story will be thin and easily checked to be a lie.”

“I know.”

“We could, of course, try and intercept their phone lines.” Natasha tucked on Tony’s sleeve suddenly. “Look at this.” She brought him over to a trunk she’d kept in the car and had asked Barnes to bring with them an hour ago just in case.

After opening it and getting a good look at the contents, Tony whistled. “You really know how to keep me happy, Natasha. That is an impressive collection of technology. I feel like a kid at Christmas.”

The other two joined their inspection and Barnes didn’t miss the grateful and pleased smile he was throwing in Natasha's direction, his eyes narrowing as he continued to watch Tony. Peggy was serious though. “That should get us somewhere,” she said and nodded. “I’m not entirely without resources either. Steve and I used to operate from this place for a while. I can add to your collection.”

It was beginning to sound like less of a suicide mission, although the variables were pointing in that general direction. The voices of Jarvis and Pepper were ghosting though his mind, telling him he was an idiot who had promised to come home. If he wasn’t going to come home someone needed to make sure he was really dead, and that Hydra would have no future. There were Rhodey and Pepper, of course, but he didn’t want them to carry the whole burden.

“I think I have some things to add to the pile.” He revealed the supermachine guns and a little device that could be used to paralyze someone for five to ten minutes. He kept the long range transmitter.

While Peggy and Natasha got ready, Tony discreetly checked it. There had been no new messages and the silence was beginning to make him nervous. Even a formidable plane like his own could be taken down with a lucky shot. He just hoped that nothing had happened to his friends or there would be hell to pay.

“You don’t really want me to bring you in, Stark. That might as well be suicide.”

“As supposed to you pretending very flimsily that you are a Gestapo officer?” Barnes sat down beside him on the floor, leaning back against the settee as he watched Tony work on the device they’d use to intercept any phone calls going out of the prison. It shouldn’t be hard to get to the phone lines.

“I’m not worried about me. I can take some abuse.”

Tony choked down a mirthless laugh. “What? You think I can’t take it?” he challenged. “You still think I’m a stupid rich boy, who makes up half his adventures for the tabloids?”

“For Marvels, actually. But, well, no. Natasha had a few stories of her own to tell. And you knew exactly how to get us out of that wood without me even getting so much as a word of advice in. I’m not stupid. You don’t work like a soldier, but you know how to get the job done.”

“Thanks,” Tony said carefully.

Barnes leaned back until his head fell back onto the surface of the settee cushions. He looked tired, much more tired than he had let on before, and some worry lines were showing on his face. “Where is the notebook?”

“Why?” He swallowed and pretended all his attention was on the machine and cables before him. Trust was never something he gave easily, but he’d been about to trust this man with his life and suddenly the conversation was leading into an uncomfortable direction.

“You didn’t bring it, right?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“It’s with Jarvis back on the plane.” He hoped he hadn’t given away too much with telling Barnes this much. Even more he hoped that this hadn’t been an assumption from the start and that was why there hadn’t been any messages coming in on the transmitter.

“Good,” Barnes finally said with a sigh. “I’m under no illusions when it comes to why you are here. The notebook and the information in it are why Fury asked you to join up. Steve — well, I suppose, Steve, if he’s still alive, is my mission. Peggy will help me. But the most important thing is to get to Dr. Erskine and decipher the information in that notebook.”

“What if it’s all just in Erskine’s head? Silphion is gone. It's a myth. A lost plant from ancient times that could never have survived. Whatever he thinks he found, it can’t be real. Or it’s a front for whatever medical procedure he’s developed. But for all intents and purposes you have the wrong pulp hero to figure out medical mysteries. I’m not Clark Savage Jr. And I'm quite pleased with that.”

“Doc Savage isn’t real. You are. So we’re stuck with you, I fear. Otherwise he would have been my first choice.” Barnes chuckled. “What kind of adventurer are you, Stark? You claim in that first issue with Iron Man that you find god damn Atlantis! Are you telling me this doesn’t make you the least bit curious?”

He shrugged. “I’m curious enough to keep the book out of Nazi hands.”

And Barnes, who by now was slowly slipping back into Tony’s good graces, finally said: “I’ve heard so much about you over the years. I really wasn’t looking forward to meeting you at all.”

“Because your friend went off to be a hero?”

A shrugging motion answered this question. “Nobody could have stopped him. He wanted to do what he could. It’s not really that. Not only that. It doesn’t matter now.” The last part was emphasized in a way that said that particular topic was closed. “How about I tell you what the plan is and you tell me why it won’t work?”

“Okay,” he said flippantly, turning back to his work and as if he wasn’t really paying attention any longer.

Smirking slightly Barnes started: “Say I’m a traitor. German born, but grown up in Brooklyn. Never forgot the good old motherland though. Nothing is thicker than blood, ey?”

“Would explain the accent,” Tony admitted, half his mind taking the statements at face value until he realized that Barnes was making up a cover story for himself.

“Now what would I do with information on Tony Stark’s whereabouts?”

“Sell them out?”

Barnes nodded. “Doesn’t get you in. Gets me in. Also serves as a distraction. Men will be out following up on the information. I open a window, a door for you and Natasha to get in. We would have to be fast, but it would get us in without using you as bait.”

“I like this plan,” Natasha said from over where she was standing inside the doorway. “It’s still a bad plan, but I like it better than the one where we end up with both of you dead before we get anywhere.” Her happy expression was mirrored on Barnes’ face.

“We should move then,” Peggy said. “The longer we wait the more likely it gets that they’ll move Erskine.”

“I know all the cliches of breaking out of prisons,” Tony remarked. “I’ve had to do it in Egypt once. Misunderstanding about a tomb. But if someone had told me I would spend the war breaking into one, I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

Peggy nodded grimly.

“That’s why we usually try to bribe our way in — or more specifically out for our captured friends, but we won’t have the time.”

Bribing took a lot of time. You had to find the right person and be sure they got to move before something happened to the prisoner that put him out of reach. No they really didn’t have the time. Now they were going to implement their crazy plan.

By the time everything was in place it was already getting dark, which would only play into their hands. Natasha had dressed in her dark suit again. His own wardrobe was rather limited, but he’d make do with what he had. At least he was wearing a darker leather jacket and that would have to be enough.

The building was shrouded in darkness. From the outside it didn’t look like a proper prison. More like an old library or mansion that had been turned into a Gestapo headquarter. He followed Natasha’s lead, as she prepared a grapple line and brought them in position on a roof from where they could watch the proceedings without being detected.

Peggy would take care of intercepting the phone calls and having a German speaker in place to answer all questions about Barnes and his “previous work” that might come up.

There was some commotion as guards and two officers stormed out the door to a car.

“They can’t wait to meet you,” Natasha offered dryly.

He was about to shoot back a witty comeback, when a second set of people left the building. Dark long hair and a flicker of green in the darkness caught his eye and he froze. If he’d had any doubt he was on the right track to get to the people he was after, then it was washed away in this moment. Beneath them in the street Dr. Gialetta Nefaria was ordering around three men in dark uniforms with the Hydra skull on their lapels.

Natasha had seen her too.

Silently he seethed, waiting in the darkness watching her every move, suddenly full of so much rage that he just wanted to be done with all this.

“Why the mask?”

“You don’t read Marvels do you? She can't take it off. Slight mishap involving fire.”

She snickered, and he had to admire her calm in light of the current situation. But the last person he wanted to think about tonight was Gia. Erskine was who he needed to think about. Half an hour later Barnes finally appeared in a window. He gave them a sign of where they needed to go and Natasha immediately and silently set to work. They did not directly cross over, fearing to make too much noise and draw too much attention if they used the grappling hook on the roof of the building with all the German officers in it.

In the end both their experience and agility came in handy as Natasha carefully balanced on a window sill and opened the window of a darkened room from the outside as if she did it every day. She probably did it every second. Only when Tony also climbed over and inside could he make out the outline of a writing desk. Carefully they edged towards the door, but there were no voices on the other side. Briefly, Tony inspected the office before the made their way out. It looked less like an administrative space and more like a professor's room at university. The blackboard on one end of the room had been wiped clean, but he could still see the chalk markings of written formulas and schematics. It was hard to read them in the dark, but he was sure this room was a work room or lab.

“You think Erskine was here?”

He shrugged. “We can’t be sure.” There might be something about the super-soldier project here that could set them on the right track, but Tony had already come to the conclusion that whatever he’d find, it would be best to just destroy it. If that meant he’d have to torch this building before he left with Erskine, he didn’t see much wrong with it.

They sneaked out, leaving the door slightly ajar, and then carefully edged along the dark corridor. Barnes had indicated that Erskine would be in this part of the building. It was just a matter of finding the room they were holding him in. Muffled voices came and went. Natasha was holding him back by the arm as steps grew louder, came closer, and then vanished without them ever seeing any movement. But a light shone out from under a door and they could hear voices. “You need to cooperate,” a calm voice said. “Don’t be a fool, doctor.”

Drawing a surprised breath in through his nose he stopped and held Natasha back, pulling her with him to the side, listening. The English was heavily accented and Tony knew immediately who was speaking. Strucker.

This was what he’d expected, wasn’t it? Why did it make him freeze then? The anger he’d suppressed was rearing its ugly head again, the rage that came whenever he thought about Strucker's taunting threats, about what this man had done to Pepper, to his father. He could end this here and now with his hands around the man’s throat and be done with it.

“Look, Erskine. We’ve been patient. And what did you do with the trust we showed you? Helped you family? Don’t you think we’ll have our revenge for that?” Strucker’s voice was eerily calm, the voice of a man who knew he was going to win. “I am a patient man, but I fear Johann is less so. Isn’t that right, Johann?”

“You’ve been too patient, Wolfgang. We should just put that spying little weakling out of his misery. Maybe the display will change the doctor’s mind.”

Marching feet could be heard coming up the stairs and in their direction and they carefully edged back along the wall the way they’d come, pressing into a doorway and keeping still. Natasha was close enough for him to smell the scent of her freshly washed hair. It brought up memories that were completely out of place and inappropriate in the here and now and he tried to shake it. And then two soldiers came into view and all of it was forgotten again, because the only thought repeated over and over in his mind was: “Don’t look over here. Please, don't look over here.”

When they got close enough Tony realized that there were in fact three men in the corridor. One of them was dragged between the other two. His first panicked thought was of Barnes, but the scrawny shoulders and the blond hair didn’t fit. It was not Barnes they were dragging along.

Natasha took in a surprised breath and at the same moment Tony knew who he was looking at.

Pressed into a darkened doorway and not able to see clearly, he got his first real glimpse of the person who had risked a lot to send him encrypted messages. His head lolling to the side, his steps stumbling painfully alongside those of the soldiers, Rogers looked like he was dead on his feet. When his face rolled to the left and the light fell on it as the door to the interrogation room was opened, Tony realized why. The side of his face was blue and swollen from the beatings he must have taken before. Although the photographic images he’d seen of him so far had not made him seem like the most remarkably strongest of soldiers this army had to offer — and his file had even right out suggested the contrary — Rogers’ eyes had always been clear and focused in any of them. They’d exuded some hidden strength, something that hinted at the strength of character he’d heard so much about from the man’s friends.

Now he looked like he wouldn’t last the night.

It was shocking and only served to kindle the flames of his anger.

Natasha shifted at his side, urging him to press closer into the doorway, but fortunately the two soldiers were focused on their prisoner and the room they were supposed to bring him to — the room Strucker and Erskine were in. It was Steve Rogers who, barely keeping himself upright, ended up looking down the corridor with a frown as if he’d perceived a movement.

Holding his breath until the scrawny soldier had been roughly pushed into the room that held Erskine and one of Tony’s most deadly enemies, he only dared breathe easier when the soldiers had vanished inside and the door had closed once more. “Perceptive,” he muttered, and was thinking of Rogers.

Natasha edged forward slowly and whispered: “What now?”

Obviously there was no way to push their way into that room with just the two of them, even with Natasha and him both carrying one of Jarvis’ supermachine guns and enough rounds to put the room to ashes. The noise would draw too much attention and they’d never get out of here with the scientist and Rogers.

Now that Tony knew that Nomad was still alive he would be damned if he left him behind. “Try to find Barnes,” he whispered. “I’ll play the fly on the wall until you’re back.”

It would a shame if the doctor got moved now that they had located him. Although getting him out now would depend on their quick thinking. Natasha was already moving away, but at the last minute he caught her with a soft touch on the shoulder. He pulled the long range transmitter from his pocket, held it up so Natasha could see it. He switched it on in front of her eyes and slowly sent the number code 1421. If there was a chance that Rhodey was still getting these messages he wanted him to know that he knew exactly where Strucker was, where they needed to be to take down Hydra. “If anything goes wrong, get out and send the code 0616 to Rhodey. Anything goes wrong at all, you do this. Promise me, Natasha.”

His urgent whispers were answered with a curt nod and Natasha carefully stuffed the device into her bag. “Whatever you do, be careful and wait for us. This is not the Temple of Madripoor.”

“I noticed. We had fun in Madripoor.”

She slunk down the corridor carefully and took care to make no sound. Tony walked after her until he was in earshot of the door once more.

“So you still won’t cooperate?” The man called Johann sounded like he was neither surprised nor displeased by that development. A ball of pure dread formed in the pit of Tony’s stomach. He knew that tone. Had been on the receiving end of people using that tone too often.

“Strap up our pathetic little spy,” he ordered.

He was going to hurt Rogers to force Erskine into going along with their plans. They had lost the family as bargaining chip and now they were grasping for the last straw left in their arsenal. And the only other person who was mixed up in this mess with any kind of connection to Erskine was the man who had saved the doctor's family.

“You are just pissed that someone like me was able to get one over on you,” a voice that must belong to Steve Rogers spoke up. The words were slurred a little, but he sounded surprisingly perky for someone who was supposedly in a lot of pain and half dead.

A loud slap resounded and Tony could only imagine the lanky man had been backhanded or worse and Erskine loudly protested, but was subdued just as quickly. Then the same voice as before chuckled. “Bullies. Same everywhere. Doesn’t matter whether they beat you up behind Mario’s or if they think they can get you to break in a cell.”

“You’ll choke on your laughter, Mr. Nomad. Getting your friend here to share his miraculous discovery with us will only be a matter of time. Just as we speak, all your precious little back-up plans will be for naught. Stark is here and we’ll have him soon enough.”

“No you won’t,” Rogers spat. “You wouldn’t be boasting if you actually had him.”

His belief in Tony’s abilities — or his smarts, that would keep him far from France — was touching, but Tony wished he would stop goading the German officer. Because there was some shuffling and Rogers cried out in pain next and it was clear that things would escalate quickly at this rate. Johann had promised as much. His patience had long run out if he'd ever had any to begin with. Tony’s hand twitched on the handle of the machine gun. He just hoped that Barnes would be able to control his temper when he got here, or their cover would be blown before they could get Erskine alone.

“Such unshakable loyalty to someone who doesn’t even know you exist.”

Rogers groaned and Tony hoped for his sake that he was on the verge of unconsciousness, so that he wouldn’t be aware of whatever came next. “Fetch a bucket of water,” Strucker ordered and for a tense moment Tony thought a soldier would burst out the door and catch him in plain sight, but the boots never stepped close to the door, then the sound of running water came from inside the room and he relaxed slightly.

“We could just throw him in the tub,” Strucker mused. “A little drowning might help him control his temper.”

“You are insane,” Erskine said.

Strucker laughed. “Tell yourself whatever you need to. We only need your research and we are tired of wasting time with this little game you and the American rat are playing.” His accent got thicker with the anger and a shiver went down Tony’s spine as Strucker continued laughing at his own wit or at the prospect of witnessing the torture that was to come.

A loud splash told him that Rogers had been doused with water. A groan announced his return to the world of the living. It would have been better for all of Rogers and Erskine if their torturers had failed to wake the soldier. Anger was slowly becoming dread and Tony sincerely doubted that he would be able to stand out here listening to the other man being tortured if this went on like this. He’d witnessed his fair share of violence, dished out some of it himself, but war and the length it made people go to hurt others made his stomach turn in disgust.

The sound of a car outside, stopping to a halt with a screech, caught his attention and he looked out of the closest window, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

Still Natasha hadn’t returned and with how things were going their clean and quiet get-away wouldn’t happen any time soon, if at all. This was moments away from becoming a disaster.

With some determination he finally slipped away from the door, down the same corridor that Natasha had followed. He couldn’t go on listening. There was nothing he could do for Rogers and Erskine now. He knew what these men had in mind for them, he already knew what they wanted with Erskine. In that room he was not going to be of help. All he could do was to figure out how far they already were with their own research on the super-soldier serum. Tony already knew how he would get Erskine out: He needed a distraction. A reason for these torturing bastards to finally leave Rogers alone and put him and Erskine back in their cells or rooms or wherever they were keeping them.

Another car outside held and doors were opened.

That really couldn’t be good.

Too many movements in the house. Too many people bringing information and potentially questioning Barnes and his story. They could not put this off any longer.

He slipped down a staircase and didn’t find anyone on his way down. He was nearly to the lowest level, when he heard voices again. “Stark war nicht dort. Niemand war dort,” a disgruntled voice spat. “Bringt den Verräter runter. Irgendwas stimm hier nicht.”

Tony slipped back to the other side of the corridor to carefully slink back up the stairs. There was no sign of Natasha anywhere in sight, and Tony was beginning to think their plan had fallen apart as a shoddy plan like it rightfully should. An arm shot out from the darkness and a strong hand settled over his mouth, pulling him in. It took him a frightful second to figure out it was Barnes who was hiding here in the darkness just like himself.

“They are coming for me now,” he whispered. “They know I lied to them. We need to retreat.”

“I know where Rogers and Erskine are,” he whispered back and nodded towards the stairs, “but there is no way we can get them out of there. Not without making it worse. They're not alone in there.”

When Barnes let him out of his grip, the first thing he noticed was that there was a bruise on his face and something dark on his shirt. The smell of blood was metallic and noticeable in the air. They hadn’t been easy on him either when they put his story to the test. “Where is Steve?” he asked, instead of commenting on Tony’s sudden scrutiny.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Never mind,” Barnes said quietly. “Natasha headed out. We think they are onto us.”

Tony nodded. He wanted to get back upstairs and finally get Erskine and Rogers out, but he had to worry about the people he’d dragged with him into this nest of vipers. At least Natasha wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t asked her to pick them up when their landing had gone sideways.

“What happened?”

Barnes shrugged. “Nothing to speak of. They just thought to figure out how trustworthy I was by putting me through the wringer. Brooklyn boy, we grow up tough. So they were out of luck there.”

Tony grinned. “Brooklyn, huh? I didn’t grow up in Brooklyn, but New York breeds its own kinds of people, doesn’t it?”

To his surprise Barnes actually slapped his back like they were the best of friends now. “So what about Steve?”

“They are… not treating him well. They are using him against the doctor. I think he’s not going to hold out any longer. He didn't look good when they brought him in, Barnes.”

There was no reply in the darkness and Tony didn’t need to see Barnes' face to know it had gone as dark as the night. He only needed to imagine how he would feel if this was Rhodey or Pepper up there. “That’s because you don’t know him. He’s still alive, that’s all that matters,” Barnes finally whispered.

“That he is,” Tony agreed and remembered the taunting words Rogers had spoken to Johann and Strucker. “But we need to wait for them to leave the room or get him to a cell.”

“I’m not sure we’ll have the time, Stark.”

Another car stopped outside, doors opening, and loud footsteps could be heard running along the street. Things were getting hot.

“I think they know I was only a distraction,” Barnes remarked.

Outside there was some commotion now. Then they could catch a glance of Peggy being marched in, Gialetta right at her heels. They hadn’t laid a hand on Peggy yet, and she looked defiant. He looked over at Barnes who had also frozen in his steps. “They knew what we were doing,” he whispered.

“They know we’re here.”

If Rhodey and the armor hadn’t arrived on the scene yet, then there was no use in hoping it would arrive in the next few minutes. He grabbed into his coat pocket and grabbed one of the two supermachine guns and shoved it a Barnes. “We’ll get her,” he said. “This operation is shot anyway.”

“We can’t survive with that many soldiers around.”

Disagreeing would only cost more precious time and Tony wasn’t even sure he actually did disagree. As he fired the first shot and the first soldier dropped, hit into the shoulder, all hell broke loose. Peggy, as quick on her feet as she was resourceful crashed headlong into Gia, knocking her into the wall and then rolled away from the soldier grabbing for her right into a doorway and out of the line of fire. Barnes was driving the rest of them back with machine gun fire. They just needed to get to the door and out to the car. Gia had spotted him now, jumping up and drawing her own revolver. “There you are,” she spat, just as he and Barnes reached Peggy.

“I’m beat,” the woman whispered. A stray bullet had grazed her shoulder.

“Take her,” Tony said. “I’m not letting Erskine and Rogers go through what comes next alone.” The loud stomping of marching boots was a swelling cacophony behind them and there was not much brawn but for Gia between them and the door now. Tony shoved the second, deceptively small supermachine gun into Barnes’ free hand as he helped him gather up Peggy. “Go. Take the car and go.”

Natasha was still out there and she would have sent the code to get him what he needed. And if there was no answer then all was lost anyway.

Tony just didn’t want to believe it. Or maybe he did and he was just accepting now that the plan had changed on him with even worse results than before. But after all he had come here to meet Zemo and Strucker. That was the main reason why he was here. And even if the plan had changed, he could at least go down dealing them the worst amount of damage possible. He was just so damn bad at giving up. The reassuring weight of his revolver felt good in his hand as he waved Barnes towards the door. “I’ll follow,” he said as reassuringly as he could muster. “Don’t wait for me. Iron Man should arrive any minute now.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Peggy hissed. For someone who was bleeding all over the place she looked fierce, like a tigress ready to pounce.

Barnes stared at him incredulously, and Gia, face hidden behind the eerily shiny surface of the jade mask laughed, loud and slightly crazed. She knew, of course, better than anyone that Iron Man was already here, just without his arsenal, without his protective shell. From the perspective of the cat the mouse was well and truly caught. “Who is she?” Gialetta asked and tried to step closer to the three of them. Both Tony and Barnes had their guns up in an instant and although Gia stopped, she continued her line of thought: “I had hoped you’d bring the redheaded bitch. I still have a score to settle with little Miss Pepper Potts.”

Which was one of the reasons why Tony was glad that Pepper was far away and safe.

Barnes finally had Peggy on her feet and Tony whispered: “Get to Natasha and make sure she did what I asked her to do.”

“And you?” For the first time in all this Peggy’s voice was shaking.

“I know what I’m doing,” he said under his breath, keeping his gun trained on the lover who had stabbed him in the back once, all the while walking Barnes, who was supporting Peggy, toward the escape route. “We’re not leaving the doctor and a good soldier behind on their own for these guys to take their revenge on them. They'll be preoccupied with me for a while. And I have a backup plan.”

Oh, and there for the first time Barnes was looking at him as if Tony was actually a Marvels cover. It would have made him keel over laughing if the situation hadn’t been so dire. “You never told us why they want you so badly,” he whispered, but he walked on towards the car, shooting at the first soldier that came his way trying to stop them. Peggy grabbed one of the guns and even with one arm made for an extremely dangerous adversary. They lingered for seconds longer than necessary in the doorway, before Barnes nodded at him with a look of determination and Peggy made herself ready to run from cover to the car. Gia and her henchmen had followed but so far stayed far enough away to not be a direct threat. Tony knew she was playing the waiting game.

But the commotion on the stairs told of all the soldiers that were on their way down. “Go,” Tony said tensely.

Rhodey was his only chance now and word or not — he knew Rhodey and Jarvis would do whatever they could to get to him. They wouldn’t leave him in the hands of these goons until one day nothing would be left of Tony Stark and something more terrible took his place. How much Peggy Carter knew of this he would perhaps never even know, but when he felt her slip something into his left pant pocket that felt like a small snuff box, he knew what she was giving him.

A way out in the form of a little cyanide pill.

He hoped very much he wasn’t going to need it.

It wasn’t the first time that it occurred to him that his life had been less complicated and much more fun before he decided to be responsible, stop running and face his fears. Like on cue, a voice from the direction of the stairs spoke: “Ah, how very nice of you to join us, Mr. Stark. See, I told you he would join us in his own time, Johann. He knows he can’t run forever.”

“Yeah? New York is actually pretty cozy this time of year,” he snapped, not taking his eyes from Gia and her closing in men, while Barnes and Carter finally made a run for it. The tires screeched and bullets were fired. Tony whirled around to let his own bullets join the fray. He took a blond German soldier in the chest and his blood splattered over the pavement. He’d killed so many soldiers, so many kids who were fighting for whatever they’d been told they needed to be fighting for, and he never enjoyed it, but it wasn't like he'd been left a choice. Spilling blood and an inappropriate ponderous thought in a fraught situation made him the deciding second too slow, when Gia finally made her move and the handle of a rifle hit him hard against the temple.

“Don’t kill him,” another voice shouted, halting the enraged soldiers who were now ready to pounce on him and avenge their fallen or wounded comrades. It wasn’t Strucker, so it must be the nice chap called Johann who had been so very patient with Nomad. Thoughts racing, Tony stumbled forward, feeling his grip on consciousness slip already. But it didn’t matter anymore. The car was speeding away, soldiers running after it, shooting, some running to a truck that was parked at the corner.

“You’re resilient,” the man called Johann remarked, when Tony caught himself against a wall and stood upright.

“He just has a thick head,” Gialetta told him scathingly. But eyes drooping, Tony couldn’t even focus on her. The green hue of the mask swam before his eyes, like he was looking at a horrible ghost. She’d been so beautiful, so very beautiful, and now she was nothing but a stone mask. What had been a beautiful piece of art to a long lost civilization, was now the horrible picture of lost beauty.

“I told you not to hurt him,” Strucker raged. “We need his mind intact. What is the point of finally getting our hands on him if we give him permanent damage?!”

His arms were grabbed in a rough hold and when he tried to focus he nearly fell forward, against a black uniform coat and the familiar green skull. A voice above his head was saying “At least he’s subdued,” like it was coming from miles away. And he was slipping, knew he was slipping, had the irrational fear of what they’d do to him the minute he was unconscious.

It took the stab of one needle to seal his fate. He knew that and feared it more than a bullet to the head.

Rhodey, he thought. Where the hell are you? Don’t let them do this to me.

But the only answer he got was Strucker patting his back. “Such a good son. It’s time he got to see his father again.”

And that was when the world finally went black.

Chapter Text

The world was still dark when consciousness returned to him in stages. He could smells blood, and even taste it on his tongue, but worse than that was that the world was loud and moving. Something jostled him, the floor moved and as his head was pushed to the side, he groaned in pain. A hand touched his face and he jerked away, trying desperately to open his eyes and not be sick.

“Shh,” someone whispered above him. “You’ll be fine. Don’t move around so much. It’s fine.”

“Steven?”

“It’s all right, doctor. I think he’s waking up.” The cool hand stroked over his brow and, blinking, details snapping into place all at once — hand on his brow, soft voice he had heard somewhere before, motor sound, shaking world, tires moving, a moving truck — he knew where he was and what had happened. Shooting up as his eyes flew open was a bad idea though, and he nearly fell back, his face draining of all color, and feeling just terrible.

“Damn,” he ground out.

“Yeah,” the voice behind him said and a hand guided him back down into a lying position, his head once again resting in someone’s lap. They were being moved. Another prisoner was holding him down and he had an idea who it was.

He tried to blink open his eyes again, this time with more luck and without so much nausea. Steve Rogers was leaning with his back against the bars and wire mesh of what looked to be a cage. It seemed either that Gialetta was taking the cat and mouse metaphor a little too far or that Strucker and his new pal didn’t want to take any chances with the two of them. “You must be Nomad,” he said to Rogers, his eyes staring past the face and up to the top of the cage they were in. Either his sense of distances was shot because he had a concussion, or it would be impossible for him to do much more than lie or crouch in here because the upper part of the cage seemed awfully close.

Sadistic bastards.

Keeping them on their knees already?

He frowned.

“Steve, please. Steve Buchanan.” He held out his handcuffed hand and Tony, with equally restrained hands, awkwardly shook it from the position he was in. Apparently Steve’s real name was still a secret here and he’d been smart enough to let him know in a way that wouldn’t get them into trouble if they were overheard. When you looked at him huddled in what might have been a dog cage at some point, it was easy to forget that this man had avoided capture behind enemy lines for a long time. He was tough and his smarts should not come as a surprise. He was the mysterious Nomad after all.

“Nice to meet you, Steve. Finally. It’s like I know you already.”

The young man chuckled and for someone who looked like he had barely survived the beating he’d taken, his laugh was surprisingly fresh and sincere and his soft smile was very sweet. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Stark. When I saw you in the hallway I thought I was imagining things. The last desperate daydream before the execution, or something like that. Although I warned you to stay out of this, didn’t I? Should have known it wouldn’t deter you. Walking into traps seems to be something you do quite frequently, even if you expect them. And with some flourish, too. At least that’s what your Marvels adventures would suggest.”

His head was hurting so badly, that he had a hard time putting it to the back of his mind and concentrate on this. But he was beginning to feel a little awkward just lying here, when the worst he could probably have sustained was a concussion and Rogers must be hurting all over. It was just so hard to move. “I don’t take orders from captains, sorry.”

“Fury says you don’t even really take them from generals, so I’m not taking that personally,” Steve countered and he sounded amused, if maybe a little tired. He had been cleaned up, or at least his face had been attended to, because there was a purplish bruise on his jaw, but his eye, still blue and a little swollen, looked better than it had seemed in the dark corridor of the Gestapo headquarters.

“I don’t really take orders from anyone. Ask any of my friends, they’ll confirm it and tell you how annoying it can be,” he agreed and tried to smile, not sure if the muscles in his face were cooperating.

Steve looked down at him and the fact that his face was hovering over his own kind of upside down now made Tony feel dizzy, even worse when the blond head turned to the side and Steve studied him with narrowed eyes and a set jaw, like there was much more he wanted to say on this subject, but he settled for: “Well, maybe you should.” The way everyone had been talking about Rogers, Tony had expected a star struck fan. It was much better to find someone who was ready to call him out on his recklessness in the field. Those were the kinds of people he liked to have around.

Jarvis would heartily agree with him — and Pepper and Rhodey too — if they ever got to see Tony again. The fact that Rhodey had still not turned up was bad; it made Tony feel irritable and cranky, and finally it brought out enough anger in him to help him with propelling himself into a sitting position and finally relieving Rogers of nursing duty. It took a few seconds until the world stopped spinning and when the truck rocked hard from side to side on the uneven street, Tony nearly hit his head on one of the iron bars. Rogers’ hand at his shoulder steadied him and Tony irritably thought he should tell him that he was here to save him and not the other way around. But the soldier really wasn’t at fault here. This whole rescue plan had been a suicide mission from the start, and he knew it. He’d just let himself be blinded by the fact that this whole thing was about Hydra and he’d needed to know facts about Zemo.

Well, he had his facts now. Had enough facts for him to know where he was going now. This would be the kind of confrontation he’d tried to avoid. He had wanted to find Zemo before they could get close enough to make him Zemo.

Sitting up gave him a better view of the inside of the truck. It was him and Rogers inside the cage. Another cage-like cell was more to the front of the loading area and it was standard size, the way he’d seen on other prisoner transport trucks before. A man, with white hair, a shaggy beard and glasses was standing to the front, watching what was going on in their cage. “Doctor Erskine, I presume.”

The man nodded and gave a defeated shrug. “That was some rescue, Mr. Stark.”

Tony tried to chuckle, but he was still not feeling too well and he had to rest his head in his hands to just keep himself from passing out. The last thing he wanted to do was throw up inside the cage and make everything worse for him and Rogers. The handcuffs clicked together and he straightened himself out. “To be honest only a few members of the group even thought we were on a rescue mission. Maybe for part of it I made myself believe it could actually be one, too. Never buy your own propaganda.”

Erskine looked him over from afar, searching and tired, but remained silent.

Rogers wasn’t saying anything either and Tony looked over at him to assess the extent of his injuries. But when their eyes met, Rogers muttered: “You’re an idiot. You should have stayed away. I warned you.” He wasn’t glaring exactly, not really angry, but some sort of emotion wanted to bubble to the surface and spill out. It just wasn’t the right place and time and the Captain Rogers he had read so much about was a man of control. And control finally won out and Rogers looked away; the moment was broken, but some redness that wasn’t from the bruises had sneaked into his cheeks.

“Hey,” Tony said and gave him his best press tested brilliant smile as if he didn’t have the mother of all headaches. “I was led to believe that you knew everything there was to know about me, captain, and you’re still surprised?”

Steve’s eyes snapped back to his own and he frowned for a moment in silence, before his mouth opened to shoot an undoubtedly snappy comeback at him, or to call him idiot again. He’d heard him goad Strucker and his pal when he must have known these might be his final minutes, and he surely didn’t seem to be awed or intimidated by Tony Stark, his literary adventure hero, right now. “What did he say to you?” he snapped.

The context wasn’t entirely clear and managed to confuse him for a second, but Tony could take a stab in the dark and surmise “he” was James Barnes and not Nick Fury, who wasn’t exactly famous for his funny gossiping tendencies. Not by a long shot. “Nobody needed to say anything. I just came to the conclusion that you must have read Tony Stark and the Jungle City and Iron Man in the Nether Town a couple of times. Am I wrong?”

Steve blushed, or at least there seemed to be a bit of that redness in his cheeks that wasn’t purely from anger. “No.” But he caught himself quickly and then said in a rather subdued voice: “You still shouldn’t have come. They wanted you here… It’s all…”

“A trap,” Tony agreed. “But the fact that they want to make me their next amazing man in the sac mask is part of why I came anyway. I’m quite good at running. Did a lot of it all my life. But I’m sick of it. Sick of running from them. This needs to end one way or another.”

Erskine made a surprised sound at the back of his throat and Steve suddenly gaped at him. “You know? I mean.. You knew all this time? About Zemo? And you came? Are you crazy?”

“I’ve known for a long time. These people need to be stopped and that’s why I’m here. Zemo needs to be out of the picture — and everyone who works with him, every single person who knows how to create another Zemo. It’s kind of personal at this point.”

“How are you going to stop them from inside that cage?” Erskine asked. The words sounded bitter, but the tone was carefully neutral.

And that was when Steve and Tony locked eyes and Steve, face a mess, torn uniform shirt dirty and bloody, smiled at him as if he already knew. “You’re here because of Zemo. I thought you had the notebook with you, because you were hunting for the super-soldier serum. But you’re not here because of that. It’s not going to fall into their hands.” He sounded quite relived.

“No,” Tony admitted. “No, I left the book with friends and I came to get information on Zemo and on Hydra movements. Quite honestly I’m here for revenge and self-preservation even if it doesn’t look like it right now. I’m known for mixing the needs of self-preservation with moments of self-destructiveness. It’s in my blood. Adventurer at heart.”

“You know,” Erskine whispered and he sounded relieved. “Thank god, you really know what you’re dealing with.” He looked over at Steve and smiled. “I thought the kid had read too many of your adventure stories.”

“Well, by the sounds of it he does read too many of my adventure stories, actually, but he’s no fool. Fools don’t survive this long in a world like this. Not in this part of it anyway.”

It seemed the praise — or the insinuation that he was a bit too much into Marvels — made Rogers instantly uncomfortable, because he avoided looking at Tony and tried to get them back on track: “You know they want to make you their next Zemo… by…”

“Injecting me with a …. formula? The crazy super scientist serum? Yeah, I know about that. They’ve come after me since before the war. Or at least I knew it had been the plan for the last few years and I was never able to confirm whether they found a better candidate and moved on. Well, I know now that I’m still at the top of the list.”

“They… have your Iron Man’s plans. They’ve been building robots for quite some time.”

“I know that too. Fought them that very first adventure, Steve.”

“It says nothing there about robots,” Rogers said and narrowed his eyes. “Just that your Iron Man took out a couple of tanks while you got away with Pepper.”

“I’m aware. I can’t let all of it get on the page. I’d give my hand away, if I did. To both sides. Do you have any idea how our own army gets about Iron Man? It’s not pleasant to deal with them either.”

“I heard Strucker say that your robot was based on theirs,” Steve said, grinding it out between his teeth as if he considered that statement a personal insult. “He was all smug about it.”

“He’s also a liar and a thief,” Tony answered, inspecting the lock of their cage. He tried to search the insides of his pockets for anything he could use to pick it, but the only revelation that brought was that the case with the cyanide pill had been removed. Boy, wasn’t he glad now that Natasha had the transmitter. “The Iron Man is an advanced model based on one of my father’s old designs. Theirs are based on that same old Howard Stark design.”

“Mr. Stark,” Erskine finally said with a sigh. “I think I would have liked to meet you under different circumstances. I admit I had not expected… I thought you were here for my research.”

Tony tried to communicate his own ruefulness in a smile. “I am. It’s part of why Fury sent me here. I’m not going to lie. Our army wants the super-soldier as much as the Nazis and I can’t resist the kind of mystery they’ve put before me.” He looked over at Rogers. “Although the really interesting part about this mystery was an unlikely soldier leaving coded messages.”

Rogers blushed and looked away. It was perfectly endearing. So modest and unlike Tony, that it was hard for him to even think Rogers was for real.

He looked back at Erskine who was watching him closely, studying him like he was a new species of animal he'd never encountered before. Carefully to not give too much information away Tony said: “I followed the little information you left us with and came to my own conclusions. I’ll be frank: I’d rather see it all go up in flames than let it fall into the hands of the people who are trying to irrevocably warp my mind by sticking a needle in my eye. I have no interest in that part of your research. The all-cure on the other hand, that is something. And something about your notes tells me we agree on this.”

“It was not my intention to create a super-solider. And I haven’t yet.”

“But you are sure your formula would work?”

Erskine shrugged his shoulders and a terribly sad smile graced his lips as he sadly looked at Steve and then back at Tony. Tony's own expression must be mirroring it: all the hope turned into regret and sadness.

“Where is it?” he asked, regretting the question immediately. But the doctor just tapped a finger against his temple in answer and that at least was a relief. He nodded.

“The thing in the notebook…” Both Rogers and Erskine were watching him carefully at the mention of it. “Would it be definitely needed?”

“Yes,” Erskine confirmed. “There is no serum without it. No cure. Nothing.”

Tony nodded in understanding. “Then we can still see to it that they get nothing,” he whispered. And Erskine looked like for the first time some life was coming back into him, some spark of fire, of passion.

“If you get the chance, do it, promise me!”

He nodded earnestly. “I promise.”

“Even if you want the cure, promise me you won’t risk them getting their hands on the… ingredient.”

“I promise.” The selfish part of him was thinking of his struggles with his heart, of his fear of the Zemo formula, another of his father and the futile hope that something like the Silphion might be able to cure him even.

“I promise, too,” Steve whispered. “I would have done it, if…”

“I know,” Erskine affirmed. Both his fellow prisoners remained silent after that. Tony was glad for it, left alone with his own thoughts for a moment. The Silphion was real. The serum existed in the mind of one scientist, but without the Silphion it would never be real.

At the next bump in the road, Tony barely caught himself, before he knocked headlong into the metal bars. Behind him Rogers hissed loudly and obviously in pain. Since there was no way for him to open the cage without any form of tool, he turned back to his involuntary companion. “How bad is it?”

“Bad,” Rogers admitted immediately. For someone whose survival had depended on secrets that seemed unusual, the ready providing of information. The good captain was not your typical spy or at the very least he really trusted Tony without question. He wasn’t sure which was more disconcerting. “I think my ribs might be broken.”

Tony looked at him more closely. “That all?”

Steve shook his head. “They beat me up with sticks. Today and yesterday. I’m not going to be much help to you, if you’re staging an escape. Even if I could drag myself up from the floor.”

“They burned him,” Erskine said and his voice went down a notch. He had to watch, Tony remembered with some horror. “Look at his arms.”

And surely there on the slim wrists, mostly hidden by the the cuffs he could see some angry red marks that must have been done with a lit cigarette. The anger that welled up this time nearly took his breath away. He was going to kill Hydra, every last one of them, taking all the “heads” down with him to hell if he needed to, if this was what they did to their prisoners. And who was he kidding? He already knew they did worse, much, much worse. And they were ready to do more.

The nice thing to do would be to smile his best roguish smile and assure Rogers that, of course, there was a clever escape plan. He was Tony Stark after all and it was what people expected of him. “I had a plan. It’s hard to say whether it’s still on from inside this cage,” he admitted.

“How will we find out?” Rogers asked, lightly. “Is Pepper going to swoop in? She needs to be part of your story. It’s not one of your adventures if she doesn’t.”

“We’ll know when we know. Sorry, I don’t have more to offer right now.” He dragged himself over to sit closer to Rogers, where he could keep a better eye on him, and make sure he didn’t just silently slip away before anyone even knew he’d been hurt that badly — like he’d seen that one soldier do on the convoy three weeks ago. He had chatted with his friends and then just fallen asleep, but then he’d never woken up again. Just like that. It had become part of his nightmares, of all the regrets he carried around. “Where are we going then?” he asked to get his mind away from that memory.

He really was tired of this war and all the needless death and cruelty. Maybe it really was time for retirement and becoming a respectable member of society.

“I’m afraid, Mr. Stark, we are going to meet Count Zemo very soon.”

“They say he’s suffering from some kind of affliction and recently traveling has been hard for him. They hoped to use my research to keep him going,” Erskine nearly spat. “Then they found a better use for it.”

“Zemo is ill?”

“He came to see me. He wasn’t all there, I think. He was babbling. Strucker wanted to know if my research could keep him going.”

His chest constricted at the thought of his father’s crazed face as he had seen it that final time. He was deteriorating. Perhaps that was something to be thankful for. He wouldn’t know that it would be Tony taking him out on purpose this time.

He was close now. He needed to do it. He was so close.

So close to being stuck under that mask and ending up just like him, too.

Either way it would be a close call.

“How much do you know about the Zemo formula and what it’s doing?” he asked, softly. What he wanted to ask was whether the Silphion serum could heal the damage done by the Zemo formula. He knew it was a question born mostly from his wishful thinking. There was no hope for his father, who had been gone for so many years. But the knowledge that there was a possible cure would help him rest easier now that he might be the next one chosen for that special treatment.

He let his head fall back against the iron bars and sighed. “I’m never good at waiting. Especially not when there’s nothing much to look forward to. Better start praying that my people are actually still out there.”

“So what’s the plan?” Rogers asked and he looked a bit paler and a bit worse again, but his eyes were alert and glued to Tony’s face and Tony was going to take that as a good sign. He wasn’t going to loose the tough guy now that they’d been through so much to get him and the doctor.

“Iron Man,” he said simply and hoped he wouldn’t have to explain any more.

“Wow,” Rogers gave a worryingly breathless laugh. “I always wanted to see that.” He grinned, but his face was very pale.

“I think you’ve earned it, soldier.” Just as he said it, the truck was rocking again and Steve winced, grin vanishing from his face. Even with the bruises and dirt and blood on his face, Tony had to admit that he was really handsome. It would have been nice to meet him under different circumstances. He’d always had a soft spot for the stubborn ones.

Erskine didn’t look all that reassured and Tony couldn’t blame him. To give him something, he said: “Your family, your wife and the girls, they’re alright. They hope to see you soon.”

The older man threw him a wan smile. “Thank you,” he said. “But I feel like I’ll never again rest in peace with all the things I’ve seen. These people… They will not stop. They will never stop.”

“They will lose this war,” Rogers said with as much stubborn conviction as he could muster up.

But Tony knew better. “It will stop the megalomaniacs in the army maybe, get rid of the Nazis or force them to go underground. But these people? The science division? They have bigger plans.”

“Hydra has bigger plans. That’s why they want you.” Rogers’ easy agreement surprised him just as much as his knowledge of the organization's name had surprised Rogers and Erskine.

“And him.” He nodded at Erskine. “They’re really keen on someone who can make them super-soldiers.”

The doctor smiled wryly. “That seems to be an affliction of both sides.”

“I’d rather have that cure for everything, to be honest. Would have spared me a lot of trouble if I'd had something like that a few years ago. And Steve here looks like he wouldn’t say no to it either if he could get his hands on it now.”

The young man chuckled and despite his tiredness it sounded like a merry sound. “There’s not much I wouldn’t have given for it at any time of my life.”

Tony vaguely remembered all the childhood afflictions, all the hereditary problems, asthma, that had been mentioned in his file. “How have you ever managed to survive this long?” As soon as the question was out he regretted having voiced the thought. “I think when we get home there are some… battle scars I need to show you. I would have given a lot to get my hands on an all cure myself for certain reasons. Never really let that slip out. It's my secret.”

For less than a second Rogers looked mortified, redness rising in his cheeks. Then he caught on to what Tony was implying and stared, wide eyes and in wonder. “Well, jungle adventures come with their own kinds of hazards.”

“Oh,” he said softly. “No, this one is not from any of those. It hit bit closer to home.” He hesitated. He never really talked about it, had kept it a secret for so long and still only people who really knew him closely knew about his weak heart. All of Hydra knew about it thanks to one of his ex-lovers jumping ship, of course. Surely there was no harm in telling a brave man who would probably not even make it home if Rhodey didn’t show up soon? And even then, he reminded himself, feeling a painful constricting in his chest, he had no idea how extensive Rogers’ injuries were, how likely he was to survive if he got home.

He could give him that, at least? A story about his hero fighting his own constitution just as much as he had done all his life. Just another little story to give him hope, but this one less of a polished up adventure and more of a truth.

But as he was about to actually explain, about his heart and the troubles it had caused him over the years, a loud crash startled all of them and the next moment, without any more warning than that, the truck swiveled, apparently being yanked around, rifle fire started up from all directions, just as Rogers crashed painfully hard into his side, knocking him down, where they tried to stay in case of stray bullets. It was hard to get a good hold on the iron bars holding them in with their hands being in handcuffs, and Tony ended up using his outstretched legs to hold himself and the soldier, now very much gasping and in pain, in place as the driver lost all control of the vehicle.

An even louder crash happened and then the car jumped, for a second they were suspended in mid-air inside their metal prison, before it went down again and he tried to hold the injured man beside himself steady as his own back crashed down against the hard surface, but the truck was toppling to its side and even secured as it was their cage wouldn’t hold their combined weight. Erskine had fallen down and he couldn’t see him, but Tony had a hard time keeping track of anything at this point. Another loud crash and painful jolt went through his whole body as the truck’s forward momentum was halted suddenly and he hit his poor injured head on one of the bars like it hadn’t taken enough abuse today. The next moment the anchorage was giving way and the cage crashed out of the holding area as the vehicle toppled to the other side instead. The whole construction wasn’t sturdy enough to take that much violence and part of the cage deformed with their combined weight and the power of the impact, for a moment making him fear they were going to be crushed inside it, but it came to lie on the ground umoving finally, leaving them in a heap. Tony could taste blood in his mouth and just hoped it was because he’d bitten down on his lip and nothing worse. Rogers was lying half on top of him, panting heavily, and the only thing Tony could hear over his loud puffs of breath and the frantic sound of his own beating heart was gun fire.

He nearly jumped out of his own skin when with another loud crashing sound only feet from him a big wooden crate came crashing into the earth, wood splintering in all directions as it landed and partially gave in, wood breaking under the strain.

“God, damn it, Rhodey!” Tony yelled, recognizing it immediately.

The silver outline of Rhodey’s highly armed armor was visible in the dust that was settling around them, casually saluting him. Rhodey had attacked the convoy, and apparently the crate was holding his own armor. His fingers itched to get to the Iron Man, even if he was thankful that it hadn’t flattened them just now. That would have made for a bad ending and Pepper would have been so annoyed.

The lock had not taken the abuse with more grace than the prisoners it was holding in and a well aimed kick was enough this time to let it spring open with a lurch, the hinges already mostly broken. Trying to be mindful of the injuries Rogers already had to begin with, he helped the dazed man sit up. “We need to get out of here, captain. Now. We’ll be shot if we don’t.” German soldiers were moving in from the other vehicles of their little convoy as he spoke. And a good deal away, Tony could see Strucker’s man Johann jump out of a car and make a beeline for both of them. “Come on,” he urged.

Gritting his teeth and swaying a little even as he was crawling, Rogers climbed out of the gap in the cage before him and Tony followed on his hands and knees. The noise of the machine guns around them was so loud that it was hard to hear his own heart beating faster. Johann and his henchmen were getting closer, but with an incredibly inelegant jump, so that the earth trembled beneath Tony’s hands and knees War Machine was between them. He pushed himself up and to his feet fast, using the cover Rhodey’s armor was providing.

“That’s Iron Man?” Steve gasped, he was pale and hadn't gotten up yet. There was blood running down his nose and he was holding an arm across his ribs protectively and Tony really wanted to get him out of harm's way, but he could not leave the crate right here in the open, unprotected. Hydra getting a hold of his newest armor design would be catastrophic.

“Steve?” He edged closer to the man, who lay wheezing on the ground.

“Ouch,” he said, panting.

“Yeah, ouch. Are you alright?” For the moment War Machine was blocking them from any soldiers or Hydra people coming their way. But Tony couldn’t believe that would remain that way for long.

Rogers was trying to push himself up, his hands still caught in the handcuffs just like Tony’s, and one wrist looked like it was bleeding. “Fine, fine,” he muttered but he looked worse than he’d looked even a minute ago. The movements clearly hurt. “We need to get to the doctor,” he muttered. “He could have been hurt.”

Tony looked over at the crate, down at his handcuffs and slowly got to his feet as Rhodey in his armor suddenly lunged forward and swept up a soldier shaking him until he dropped his rifle and then flung him back at his comrades. Because the armor was in the way Tony couldn’t see where he was falling, but even over the gunfire he could hear the painful grunts and shouts of his comrades.

“Would you get moving?” Rhodey said over his shoulder, voice muffled from inside the metal.

Rogers stared up at him with wide eyes, then his gaze slowly moved to Tony who picked up the rifle. The captain finally managed to stand. When Tony was back at his side, he readily held up his hands, indicating the cuffs. “Me first?”

Tony silently nodded to let him know to put down his hands on the ground, look away and keep still. It took one well placed shot to have him free. “I hope you have steady hands,” he said as he passed over the rifle. Rhodey was moving forward and firing, but taking away some of the protection the broad back of his suit had offered them so far.

Their time was running out here. Tony needed to join this fight before it was too late. He put his hands down just as Rogers had and hoped that the crash hadn’t taken too much out of the poor guy. With surprisingly unshaking hands he made sure that he still had a shot left, aimed and fired without hesitation. Tony’s hands jolted away from each other and he was free, a chunk of metal or rock skirting his cheek and leaving a painful little cut. “Thanks,” he said.

Rogers was leaning hard on the rifle now, watching him with steely blue eyes. “That’s not a robot,” he said and indicated War Machine.

“No,” Tony admitted. “That’s also not Iron Man.” He nodded at the crate before them. “That’s Iron Man. I need to do this now. I’ll keep you as safe as possible. Get the doctor. Get out of here. Doesn’t matter how. I’ll find you.” He hoped the assurances meant anything after getting to know each other in a Hydra cage.

“It’s… You’re piloting it. You’re Iron Man.” The awed whisper barely reached him over the noise of the battle field. Rhodey’s jet tube was roaring as he held himself a little above ground. Strucker’s voice was shouting out commands behind them and a stray bullet buried itself into the ground just feet away from Tony. Rogers nodded. But instead of walking away he straightened himself up and came over to help him, with jerky motions and slow hands, panting heavily as he did so, he helped Tony get away the splintered wood that was hiding the real Iron Man armor. When it was free, Rogers just stared and blinked at it, dumbfounded. “It’s amazing,” he said slowly and then met Tony’s eyes, smiling.

And then they both had to duck out of the way of machine gun fire. “Stark darf nicht getötet werden,” Strucker was shouting. “Lasst ihn nicht entkommen!”

“Can’t have it both ways,” Tony muttered.

Rogers, who looked pale and not at all steady on his feet was still smiling. It was a sweet smile, even if his face was dirty and bloody. Tony was beginning to worry that this was it. Something about the way Rogers was acting was off. The injuries must be catching up with him. “Go now,” Tony urged. “Get away. We’ll get you out of here, as soon as we’ve dealt with this.”

“Yeah,” Rogers agreed and looked back at the fallen truck. He nodded, but then his eyes found Tony’s again, whose hands were already busy with the armor. Just as he was about to climb in and urge Rogers one more time to get away and find Erskine, the man had let the rifle sink down to his side, there was fresh blood on his lips, that Tony was sure hadn’t been there a moment ago and that was not a good sign. But his eyes were blue and determined and clear and his hand settled on Tony’s arm halting him and suddenly the bloody lips were on his — and it was so unexpected, so out of place, that he had no time to think it through. He tasted blood, faintly, like a sweetly metallic tang on his tongue and surprisingly, for a guy who looked a little frail, who looked like he wasn’t going to last the next hour even, Rogers kissed like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. He kissed like a man gasping for breath, but determined to survive. It wasn’t an expertly done kiss, but it was just good enough to make Tony part his lips and kiss back. When Tony didn’t pull away, Steve’s hand came up to caress his jaw and Tony, never one to miss a moment like this, lost himself in the sensation. Just for a moment. Just for a second.

Then a bullet connected with the armor and they both had to duck, still kissing and Steve’s hand on his cheek. Pulling away, Rogers laughed, breathless, but happy and with brightly shining eyes. “Sorry,” he said and grinned. “I wanted to do that.” He could still taste Rogers on his lips, still tasted blood, was surprised at the urgency and need the brief kiss had opened up in himself, so inappropriate and out of place under the circumstances. “Don’t,” Rogers started saying and then stopped himself. A loud explosion behind them broke the moment, and Rogers picked up the rifle to move towards the truck now. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Stark. Pleasure to meet you in person.”

It seemed so strangely final and impersonal after that kiss just now that Tony couldn’t find an appropriate answer. His heart was racing and he felt the urge to get the doctor and captain and just get them away from here. But Hydra was closing in and he needed to get his head in the game. The armor opened with a hissing of hydraulics and groaning of metal and he climbed up quickly.

“I’ll come and get you, Nomad,” he called after him urgently, just before the armor was closing around him and the sounds of battle became filtered and hollow.

“Sure,” Rogers called back, throwing him a salute over his shoulder. His smile was still brilliant.

But that was for later, Tony told himself firmly, as Iron Man made his way out from the final remnants of the crate and soldiers were finally closing in. He swooped them out of the way, forcing them back towards the line they’d established, making sure to keep himself between the soldiers and the truck where Rogers was now presumably trying to help Erskine. Rhodey was still firing rounds and Tony was desperately trying to put blue eyes and warm lips out of his mind and focus on the problem at hand. So Tony, trying to buy his companions some time, jumped into the fray, lifting up into the air to get a better view of what was going on below him.

There were two more trucks in the convoy that were still standing and soldiers had started using two of the dropped ones as barricades. Not that this would help them much under the circumstances. There wasn’t much you couldn’t overcome in a flying tank.

But as he hovered there beside Rhodey, he caught sight of Strucker and the person he assumed was his second in command. As they were standing there, Tony realized for the first time, that they were the same in rank. “Sie versuchen dem Doktor zur Flucht zu verhelfen,” Johann was shouting. “Nehmt ihn fest. Wir beschäftigen die beiden.”

Strucker was speaking into the a telephone receiver of a hand held transceiver, that a sturdy soldier was carrying on his back. “Startet die Maschine.”

His German wasn’t much to write home about, but he got the gist of that. “Rhodey, look out, they are planning something.”

Even over the sound of his own armor systems he could hear a booming noise, like a bomb hitting the ground. What he saw instead, was a giant green robot tearing its way out of a truck. The design was familiar. The proportions were gigantic compared to his own. The plating looked much less, refined, but sturdy. There was a very familiar symbol right in the middle of its chest plate and Tony could only hope that it was hiding the energy source or something equally convenient and not the pilot.

“Boss,” Rhodey warned. “He’s not alone.”

And sure enough there was a whole squad of golden hued shapes, Iron Man shaped and moving like they were pulled on a string towards them emerging from the trees. Tony had expected resistance, had expected Hydra to go all in in their gamble to get him, but even for Hydra and Strucker — and even for Zemo this seemed like overkill. Were they desperate or just even more crazy than he’d thought?

The green machine towered over them, at least twice the size of their armor models. Heavy and moving slowly it was at a disadvantage, Tony thought, but it chose that very moment to lift up in the air, turning towards Rhodey at the same time and firing. It was just one blast, but it knocked War Machine right of his feet and threw him back a few feet until a tree rudely stopped his flailing. The golden armor shells were descending on Tony, who threw a last worried look towards the truck before he fired on the first one. He needed to draw the fight away to give Rogers and Erskine a way to escape. Rhodey was already up again, his plating much sturdier than it looked when compared to the green giant. He threw an explosive out of an opening in his arm plate to dissuade the golden knock-offs surrounding him, but by that time the green giant had him by the shoulders, pressing down with all its superior strength.

Tony had a few tricks up his sleeve though too and he wrestled himself out of the grip.

Rhodey had lifted into the air now and at least one golden scrap of parts was left behind on the tree side already, broken and unmoving. The rest kept following a few paces before turning back towards Tony. That didn’t bode well at all. Even the Iron Man couldn’t fend off this new model and a dozen of old models at the same time, if they weren’t going to be distracted.

But Rhodey caught on immediately, turning to launch a grenade at the green armor. There was a pilot inside, who shouted in surprise as he fell. But there was no sound from the golden thing he took down next. Had they actually built robots? Mindless drones without humans inside? How then could they be acting like soldiers, as if they knew Rhodey was not the target?

He lifted up from the ground the moment he had some range and put some space between himself and the battle field. The pilot of the green suit was already gathering himself up, but Rhodey joined Tony in the middle of the air and huffed. “I knew they had it in for you boss, but this is really something.”

“I’m just so charming that nobody can resist me,” he joked. As the first golden tin can was trying to follow them, he put more power into his gauntlet and blasted it out of the air. The flight capabilities seemed to be rudimentary at least. Tony gestured up and over at where Strucker was hiding. “Let’s take out the biggest head of this Hydra first.”

But the green giant was following, throwing himself in front of where Strucker was before either of them could get in a shot.

“Not so fast, Eisenmann!” the pilot shouted. “I’m not finished with you.”

“This is no way to ask someone for a dance,” Tony mocked and launched a grenade of his own to knock him back down, but the big guy was expecting it and managed to shield himself with his arms, pushing after them with astounding speed. His jet engines were roaring so loudly that Tony could hear him coming even as he flung himself away at top speed. Rhodey came to his aid, knocking the enemy away with a full body tackle.

It was then that Tony became aware of the emerging soldiers making their way towards where he’d last seen Rogers. He motioned for Rhodey to intercept, but by now the golden armor shells had fallen into flight formation and although these weren’t as quick or strong as their big green brother, they were going to be a problem. “Lasst ihn nicht entkommen. Stark ist entscheidend für diese Operation,” someone was yelling, and Tony barely heard him over the sound of the close by jet engines, his own armor’s propulsion and the sudden devastating noise of impact, as a green metal fist connected with his faceplate and knocked him square out of flight, sending him tumbling down to earth. He barely caught himself before impact, but he was in easy range of the smaller tin cans again. But he had spotted the person who had called out and he was carrying a square machine that might be a tele-control box. It was “Johann”. That made some sense at least, but from here and with the golden armors and the green heap of metal between him and the man, there was no easy way to get to him and Rhodey was stuck fighting soldiers and trying to keep Tony’s back clear.

“We need to loose them,” Tony shouted.

“You do!” Rhodey agreed, turning in a circle to keep everyone at bay with his constant barrage of bullets. Tony could calculate that at this rate it wouldn’t be long before even War Machine ran out of bullets. He launched himself forward, pushing at full speed through the sea of gold towards the trees, confident that Rhodey would follow his lead without needing prompting. He considered activating the tank treads to have more traction, but in the split second he had until he reached the treeline, he decided that he would be better off just pushing onwards. And what was ahead then took up all his concentration. Fire from behind, armors closing in, he avoided crashing into trees just barely, swiveling out of the way and back at the highest possible speed. Behind him he heard the satisfying boom of a first explosion as one of the pursuing armors crashed into a trunk. He tried to speed up even more as a golden metal arm came into his line of sight, then changed direction in a sudden turn west and tried to lose them with another similarly reckless maneuver that rid him of another two enemy armors as they crashed into each other.

When he swiveled around a third time he saw that Rhodey had taken care of at least another two armors. He had touched down, making his stand between the trees, and firing far range precision shots at the machines still tailing Tony, taking them down one at a time. Somewhere further behind motorcycles had started pursuit, but the ground was too unsteady.

“What are we going to do about the green guy? He seems to have a temper?”

Tony hadn’t forgotten about him. His Iron Man had taken more abuse in this than he had when he’d blown up the last research facility and it had all come crashing down on him while he fought off guards. A stabbing pain was pounding somewhere behind his temple and the truth was he wasn’t sure how long he’d hold out against what was perhaps not right out superior, but certainly heavier armor.

With some luck Rogers and the doctor had already gotten away.

With a ton of luck.

Tony really needed to stop thinking about it.

He fired towards Rhodey just as the first motorcycle threatened to get close. Somewhere towards the road a tree was falling. Green metal glittered. The giant was on its way. Rhodey pointed upwards. But it was too soon for that. They needed to shake the rest of these smaller drones, one of which had now latched onto his back and seemed wired to get towards the propulsion power source. Tony shook it off and fired at it, throwing it into the trees. But the next one got him with a body tackle before he had even registered it was there. He was knocked hard into a massive tree and with a resounding hum of the metal came the shock of the impact. Picking himself up was harder this time.

So he started up the jet once more to make it easier to get off ground and accelerated. He needed to keep all the attention on himself if he wanted to give the other prisoners a chance to get far enough away from Hydra to be actually safe. Closer to the street, he could see the big suit plow away through the tree line and he made a final sharp turn to shake the tail he’d acquired and saw no need to stop his own elated laughter as two golden shapes crashed into the giant green one, he hovered over the closest convoy truck, looking down at Strucker and his fellow Hydra officers, who was still holding the device that Tony supposed was controlling the drones.

“Well, Mr. Stark,” the younger officer said. “I'm impressed. I can see now why you’ll make us proud.”

“Funny,” Tony said and knew his voice sounded hollow and muffled, but loud enough to be heard. “I was not trying to impress you.”

He held up his arm to aim, fully planning on ending this once and for all. He was going to shoot and be done with it, even if taking out Strucker would only solve part of the problem. Hydra, he thought in disgust. Even if I take out both of them right now it’s not going to be the end. He fired anyway. But a drone got in between him and Strucker at the last minute and Johann was smiling a satisfied, smug smile, his hands on the controls.

Tony had missed this chance, but he’d never been sure about this anyway. He took a final moment to survey the area, hoping to not see any prisoners or worse. A truck was burning and some of the cars were gone. Tony hoped that meant the soldiers had had to spread out, because the others had gotten away.

Rhodey appeared over the treetops and motioned to the sky again.

“Your green giant is a nice design,” Tony said and looked down at Johann this time. “Doesn’t look like German Wertarbeit, though. Doesn’t look like a Howard Stark either. What did it take to make Vanko build it for you? Did you take his family, too?”

“You are smart, Mr. Stark. You’ll fulfill your purpose. Just like Dr, Anton Vanko did. Just for a little while longer than he did.”

By the sound of it Vanko had not survived his stay with Hydra. The thought of a fellow scientist having been kidnapped, forced to work for the enemy and then having been disposed off only fueled his anger more. He ignored the exhaustion, the headache and decided that he would not let them walk away with the the green suit. When he looked over his shoulder he could see it was already closing in again. “Good energy source,” he said, trying to figure out how he was going to do this and fast. He’d been set on getting one of the golden carcasses to dissect and evaluate later, but maybe taking the green one would be even better.

The Hydra officer still wore the smug grin and Tony had had quite enough of it. He raised his arm, grinning himself behind his mask as one push of an armored finger released a little hatch in his arm and three grenades were released. “Whatever you say,” he said and launched himself into the air, hearing the satisfying shuffle of feet and explosions. He had no time to look what was happening, no time to wait and see what had become of his enemies. Cries were filling the air, but the pilot of the Hydra suit was out for revenge now and tried to knock Tony out of the air. Tony managed to avoid him barely the first time, but then his enemy launched a fire thrower and it was becoming uncomfortable inside the suit. A warning inside the helmet told Tony that he was losing power too.

“You’ve bravely held out so far, don’t let me down now,” he muttered and held himself on track as best he could. Rhodey was nowhere in sight, but he knew he couldn't be far off, as Tony was rising faster and faster towards the clouds. After they’d reached a certain height the bigger suit had to slow down and Tony had time to look towards him and see that he still hadn’t shaken off all the drones. He had hoped getting “Johann” out of the picture would have done the trick, but, no, two golden husks were still hot in pursuit.

“12% power,” the warning informed him.

“Of course, of course.” He knew that at 10% flight capability would be seriously hampered.

He rose even higher, before he activated the transmitting system inside the armor. “Jarvis?” he spoke. “If you can hear me, I might need a charge. In fact I’m about to test that thing that we said not to test.”

He expected no answer and there was none, but he very suddenly killed the jet and let himself fall a few hundred feet, managing to control the fall as planned. His enemy had not expected his sudden change of direction and was flung off course when the Iron Man crashed into his side with the full force of his fall. Tony grabbed him by the shoulders and clung on, holding himself steady as best he could.

“Look,” he shouted over the roaring of the wind, “this isn’t personal. But I can’t let Hydra have stuff like this. Absolutely can’t. I’m sure before the war you were a nice guy and all, but this armor clad journey ends here.”

The soldier inside the armor muttered in heavily accented English: “You talk entirely too much. I have my orders, but up here no-one will know I killed you.”

Tony wanted to chuckle. “At least we’re on the same page now, soldier,” he said and drew back his arm and with as much force as he could muster hit his heavy fist against the Hydra sigil in the middle of the armored chest. The metal gave way, groaning and scratching, and Tony wrapped his unfeeling finger around the heart of the machine. “Don’t telegraph your powersource,” he muttered.

The man inside the armor finally understood what he was planning, but he was looking up and a cruel laugh reached Tony’s ears, muffled by layers of metal and by the roaring of the wind. The plane — Tony’s place — had finally appeared over the clouds and the German inside the armor was aiming one arm upwards. Tony immediately realized he was going to launch a missile. “Don’t you dare,” he he said. It took him a split second to make a decision how to proceed. One push of his fingers opened part of his gauntlet and channels of pure orichalcum were laid bare, as he tried to pull out the surprisingly tiny energy source, but it didn’t budge. But then it wasn’t necessary anymore to pull it, because the moment the orichalcum came into contact with the buzzing core of energy, the metal did what it was meant to do.

Agony.

Energy was flowing through the suit, the butting of electricity and burning circuitry ringing in his ears. He screamed, but part of what he was hearing weren’t his own screams. The other pilot was just as affected as he was. But the missile still launched, not perfectly aimed as it would have been, aimed too far to the left. It would miss. Tony wanted to laugh, to gloat inside his mask, but the pain was unbearable. A sting nearly made his heart stop, hot searing pain, feeling like a heart attack.

The energy had reached the orichalcum in his mechanical heart.

He gasped.

Then he lost his grip on the green armor and was falling.

Falling.

The pain had taken all his breath away and it wasn’t stopping.

Not stopping.

He hoped he had at least dealt Hydra enough of a blow today for Rhodey to do the rest.

For Barnes to get to his friend.

For Erskine to be taken home.

For brave and surprising Steve Rogers to become a man with a country again.

The pain didn’t stop even as he crashed to earth hard. The armor was built sturdy enough to dampen the crash, but he still felt it, gasping for breath and desperately trying to get air into his lungs. It didn’t matter that the he could have broken his neck, that the fall alone could have killed him, if he and Jarvis hadn’t worked so hard on the new model. For the first time in a bit over three years, his heart was giving out. He gasped, and gasped, not even able to grasp at his chest, to touch or push or tear, because the armor was in the way.

And then slowly, very slowly he realized he was hyperventilating, breathing too fast and clenching up, but the pain was subsiding and Rhodey had landed beside him with a thud, and was trying to get him to open the visor of the helmet. And finally he got it off.

“Hey,” Rhodey said. “You scared me.”

The fresh air flooding into the helmet was like ambrosia. “I feel like a turtle that has fallen on its back.”

“Look like one too, boss.” Rhodey had also put up his visor and grinned at him. “Tony Stark and the Mystery of the Flying Turtle?”

“I’m not the one wearing green here.”

“Yeah, but the other guy doesn’t look any better.” Rhodey nodded towards fallen trees. Tony could imagine that the other armor must have crashed as hard as he had. “Can you stand?”

“Not in this metal coffin,” he groused. “Let me note that this was a stupid idea. Next time, you use the mystery metal and the person who has a piece of it in his heart, stays clear of it, okay?”

Rhodey helped him to sit up a little and smiled. “I’m not the one who needs that memo.”

“Right,” Tony admitted. “Fuck.” He still felt like his lungs were burning. But the suit was moving. It hadn’t burned out. In fact it looked like all repulsors were at full power now. “At least we now have found a quick way to supercharge Iron Man. Very nice.” He stood up, leaning only slightly on War Machine.

“I hope the discovery was worth scaring me half to death.”

Tony tried to grin, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins made him light headed. Too many thoughts were running through his mind all at once. “How far off are we?”

“Couple of miles,” Rhodey supplied. He nodded towards the fallen pilot and suit. “We need to get him out of that.”

Suddenly, despite his heart beating normally again, Tony didn’t feel good about what he’d done to end this fight. He’d wanted the suit, the rage about the insinuation that its creator had met an untimely death, after he’d given his captors what they wanted, was still singing inside his body, making his limbs quiver with rage. And that pilot was Hydra. Strucker and Zemo wouldn’t have given that weapon to just anyone. Tony wanted him to pay with every fiber of his being. But then he wasn’t keen on uncovering a crushed corpse.

Rhodey had already reached the enemy's armor and bent over him.

“I think he’s alive,” he said, trying to free him from the broken parts.

“Fine,” Tony snapped. The events of the whole day were finally catching up with him and there was one thing that stood out to him now that he had time to take stock. He’d found their mystery man. Soft lips. Bloody kiss. Less than spectacular timing. It only now seemed real. “I need to go back.”

“They were clearing out already. There won’t be anything left, boss.”

“Erskine,” he muttered. “Nomad. I had to leave them behind. But if Erskine wasn’t hurt when you forced our truck off the street, then he and our man should have had some time to get away. They might need help now.”

Rogers had been hurt. But he seemed like the stubborn type. And he’d evaded his enemies for so long that Tony was sure he had gotten away if there had been any real chance. He must have gotten away.

Or all of this had been for nothing.

And Tony hated the thought.

Hated losing.

“I’ll get this,” Rhodey motioned at the green armor and the pilot who was now half visible, unconscious, but breathing.

Tony didn’t need to be told twice.

It took him ten minutes to find the convoy — or the remains of it.

Two trucks were still burning. Signs of fire and explosions had turned the surrounding area into a sad sight. Most of the cars were gone. Most of the bodies were gone. He kept an eye out for Strucker and his companion, but they too were gone.

There was no sign of anyone.

No sign of enemies or friends.

He looked to the surrounding woods, back to the streets. He had no idea where to start.

After all the length he’d gone to,to find Erskine and their missing spy, it looked like he’d managed to lose their elusive captain all over again.

Barnes would be so thrilled, he thought without a hint of humor. Worry gnawed at his insides.

Nothing had gone as planned.

“So he was hurt?” Barnes asked in a defeated tone. Tony hadn’t right out said it was hopeless, but Barnes was reading between the lines. “He was alive and we lost him again? And he was badly hurt?”

“And Erskine,” Carter reminded them. “We found and lost him too.” But it was very clear that Rogers’ rescue had been a personal matter for both the sergeant and the S.O.E. officer.

“We are not done searching yet,” Tony said darkly. Rhodey was still out there trying his best, but after his little orichalcum “accident” he finally had opted to give himself some downtime and stopped the search. Or what corresponded to downtime when you were on the run in enemy territory. He’d in short order taken one of the remaining trucks and stored Iron Man in the back, hiding it beneath a canvas and driving the hell away from the place where soldiers would be looking for them any minute, or at least as soon their reinforcements arrived. Of course, they wouldn’t be any safer on the streets and wouldn’t remain undetected for long wherever they went now, especially as they were getting closer to curfew again. Natasha, Barnes and Carter had joined him half an hour ago, informing him of the close calls they'd had while fleeing the city. Soldiers were looking for them everywhere. Contacting the resistance was now potentially putting lots of lives on the line.

“There is a farm we can use as a hide-out,” Barnes suggested and Peggy nodded. “We went through a list of all safe houses that are in the area and… still safe. And Armand and his wife are trustworthy and the Germans won’t suspect them.”

Even though he did not like the idea, Tony nodded. He still had this constricting feeling in his chest that made it feel like someone was squeezing the life out of him and he really wanted to have a minute or two to open the glass and steel contraption that was protecting his heart and make sure nothing worse had happened to the device that made sure he was still living and breathing.

Bur he was still alive and there were more pressing matters.

“I brought you this,” Natasha said and pulled the notebook from her bag. “Your friend Jarvis said, that you’d go looking for this now. He also said he’d be heading back home like you told him to do.”

He didn’t take his eyes from the street as he held out his hand for it. Both Natasha and Barnes had been watching him searchingly since they’d arrived and still he couldn’t really make himself relax and talk. The loss of Erskine was bad. But the loss of Nomad was personal now for him too. He’d promised to come back for him, even when part of him had known that it might be too late for Captain Rogers.

Tony Stark just hated losing.

He also hated letting people down.

He’d been let down too often.

“Did you have time to ask Erskine about this?” Barnes nodded towards the notebook, before Tony slipped it inside an inner pocket of the leather jacket he’d taken from one of the trucks.

“Not exactly,” he admitted, remembering with a grim satisfaction that he’d promised to destroy whatever he would find at the end of this search. “I mostly talked with your friend. And we weren’t sure how closely we were guarded so we didn’t exactly go into details when we talked about Erskine’s research.”

Barnes nodded. His eyes were red, as if he hadn’t caught even a wisp of sleep. It looked like he was going to say more, but then thought better of it.

“First we need to get off the streets,” Natasha told him in an urgent tone. “Where is Rhodey?”

“Rhodey will join us. We do have two people missing and the best case scenario says, Rhodey doesn’t come back alone.”

“You truly believe that?” Barnes’ eyes had snapped back to Tony’s face, at the same time that Peggy asked: “How will he even find us?”

“Yes,” he said to Barnes. “I want to believe it. They needed Erskine. If your friend stayed with the doctor, even if they were captured, I’m sure he is still alive.” It wasn’t necessarily true. The severe injuries might have caught up with him. Rogers had been in bad shape. Strucker might have decided that Rogers was no longer useful to him. If Rogers was alive and he had been captured again Tony just hoped Strucker’s anger was reserved for Tony and what he had done and he wouldn’t be taking it out on the hostages. “I promised Rogers to come back for him. I’ll be damned if I don’t.”

The kiss had certainly stuck in his mind. It wasn’t like he’d been wearing a red tie in the right kind of bar and had been looking to be kissed by the cute blonde bloke from the dance floor back in New York just then. But he could put two and two together. He’d done reckless things when he’d been in less dangerous situations, driven by adrenaline and attraction.

And attraction was exactly what this was about.

He wasn’t going to say that the reason why he wanted to keep his promise was because Rogers had managed to surprise and intrigue him, wasn’t going to look at his best friend and tell him he was thinking about one of the weirdest kisses he’d been on the receiving ends of in a life that hadn’t exactly lacked kissing and unusual situations of any kind. He was going to tell Pepper, if he got out of here alive, because it was a suitably dramatic moment — the kind she reveled in, the kind she could wring gold from. Even if she might not be able to put this into her next Marvels adventure as it was, she’d know to take some of the emotion and make it work on the page for their audience.

But it wasn’t all about that one short moment of connection during the little time they’d had together. Rogers and his history had intrigued him right from the start. He’d just been too focused on Hydra and his own plans of revenge to examine the sentiment. Now that he’d actually gotten to know him a little, he would make sure that Hydra payed for what they had done to another man too good for the likes of them. If he was dead — and that was likely, Tony had another burning reason to want revenge.

It was time to take Hydra down in flames.

“Thank you,” Barnes said, watching his profile as he was driving. “I wasn’t exactly impressed with you and I know I… blamed you a bit for your stories. I’m glad he got to meet you, though.”

“Not sure ‘meet’ is what I would call it,” he muttered, thinking of the cage, the injuries and always the kiss.

Barnes acknowledged that with a nod and fell silent, staring into the night and seemed lost in thought. “So, you’re also Iron Man? Why the subterfuge?”

In hindsight it seemed silly that he’d kept it to himself for so long, but he still had his reasons for not wanting his secret to get out. “Do you want the whole list? Starting with Stark Industries having second thoughts about me trekking the Himalayas — can you just imagine what they’d have to say about me using a combat suit for active combat? — and ending with some more personal reasons that led to the development of the suit in the first place. Our good generals are hounding me to give the suit over as it is, can you imagine what they’d do if they knew there was a pilot inside?”

Shrugging, Barnes leaned back in the seat. “Did Steve see it?”

“The armor?”

“You in the Iron Man?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Barnes said, pronouncing it slowly. “I’m sure he liked that.”

Tony wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the implication that he’d been basically something like a last request granted to a dying man and he wasn’t sure Barnes was even aware how he had sounded just now. He wasn’t going to say as much to Barnes now either, because he was obviously struggling with his own set of regrets.

“We need to get rid of the car, Tony. And we need a plan. You, Peggy and James, you are all compromised. They know you’re coming. They are looking for you. I know you went tohrough an ordeal and James lost a friend, but we need to think clearly.”

“We should have taken the plane out of France, is what you’re saying, darling?” He didn’t want to snap, but he couldn’t stop himself. His whole body was still running on adrenaline and anger, and if he were to take his hands away from the steering wheel they’d be shaking.

“No,” Natasha said with utter, eerie calm. “I’m saying we need to regroup, to take stock and fight back with a clear head.”

He let out a long breath that he’d been holding. His heart was beating too fast again, uncomfortable and close to painful. “You’re right. But all of you should be aware that they might not have known when we were coming, but they wanted us to come. We were compromised the moment we started this little operation”

Peggy pursed her lips: “Steve warned you about that.”

He just nodded grimly. He was not going to rehash that conversation now. Strucker’s words were still echoing in his mind over and over again: See, I told you he would join us in his own time, Johann. He knows he can’t run forever, and Such a good son. It’s time he got to see his father again. “He did. But this is personal for me too. You need to understand that I’m not just here because I follow the enticing mysteries and the stories of good men lost behind enemy lines that Fury puts before me. Not that the story of Nomad wouldn’t make a hell of a novel one day. I’m here, because I’ve had brushes with the Nazi science division since before the war. They call themselves Hydra and they are loose. They are dangerous, more dangerous than the rest of the lot. Hydra — they follow their own agenda and what you’ve seen Germany unleash so far is harmless compared to the horrors Hydra is preparing to unleash. I want them gone. I need them gone, before they one day manage to get one up on me and win.”

“Hydra?” Peggy didn’t seem surprised. “There were rumors that were never confirmed. Steve was sure there was something to it.”

“Believe me when I say the uncomfortable truth is likely much worse than the worst rumors you might have heard.”

“Okay,” Barnes said. “We’re in. You don’t need to to entice us with making it sound like even more of a hero's feat, Stark. After all this? We’re in. We’re going to take them down.” He looked from Tony to Natasha and Peggy. “At least I am in. I do have a score to settle before I can go home or I’ll never be able to look in a mirror ever again. Not with a good conscious.”

Tony nodded. He knew his own fair share of regrets, still wanted to get his hands on Gia’s neck for what had happened to poor, loyal Virgil.

Peggy licked her perfectly red lips and nodded, too.

Tony’s attention was for Natasha though. “Natasha, you know you don’t have to. They didn’t see you. And the only reason you’re mixed up in this is because I called in a favor. You really don’t have to do this. You don’t owe me or anyone. Not that.”

“I owe it to myself. My handlers won’t miss me for another week or so. If Hydra is as dangerous as you just implied, then it’s in everyone’s best interest to stop them. Moscow will agree.” Some silent communication passed between her and Barnes and she nodded once, just a slight tilt of the head. It seemed Tony had missed more than one little conversation while he had been gone. When Natasha focused back on him, it was clear she was in this just like the rest of them and would not back out before this was done. This was no longer up for discussion. “How is Rhodey going to find us if we don’t even know where we are going, Tony?”

“Transmitter,” Tony said. “He’s going to find me exactly the way he found you when I was taken.” He finally stopped the truck. “Natasha is right. We can’t take the car to the safe house.”

“Then how are we getting there? How are we getting that there?” He pointed at Iron Man hidden under the cover.

“It can walk. It can fly. It’s dark enough now. And we are not going to the safe house anyway. We have work to do and the fewer people know about it the better.” The thought of getting back into the suit just now, wasn’t appealing. It had taken quite few hits and his own condition wasn’t exactly helpful. But he could do it. He’d survived a heart attack once. What was risking another when it was for the greater good? “Carter?” he asked. “How are you?”

“I’m injured, not an invalid. I can walk. It's a superfical wound.”

“I’m offering a free ride,” he explained and looked at her.

Suddenly she laughed. “Like on that one cover where Iron Man flies you out of a canyon?”

“Yeah,” he said, remembering that one. “Just that I wasn’t actually carried by Iron Man. I was in the suit, of course. You can hold on to me, all dignified, if you want to.”

Her laughter stopped as suddenly as it had started, but there were tears in her eyes, and it was hard to tell if they were from laughing or from suddenly being reminded of her grief. “Steve would have loved this. His own Iron Man cover art moment.”

It wasn’t all that funny to Tony. He and Steve had already had their own cover art moment that would never see the light of day.

“He would have loved it,” Barnes agreed and the looked at Tony as if he was daring him to disagree. “Don’t laugh. He was really in love with that cover.”

Laughter was the the last thing on his mind at the moment. “Why? Because he’s my biggest fan?” When Barnes frowned at him, waiting for an elaboration, he just shrugged and explained: “He managed to communicate his enthusiasm just fine, thanks.” Very enthusiastic in fact, but he did not want to dwell on that. And nobody else needed to know about it.

Barnes stared at him for a minute longer with slightly narrowed eyes, as if he knew there was something Tony wasn’t sharing, but didn’t ask the obvious question. He knew the sergeant and Rogers had been close friends, but these days men had to be even more careful about their secret desires that in the decades before. If Barnes was in Rogers' confidence to that extent, there was a good chance that Barnes suspected something like the truth had slipped out, that Rogers might have said something incriminating to Tony in the heat of meeting his crush. But from Barnes perspective Tony had been associated with too many women in public. He had been flirting with Natasha even though he suspected that Natasha and Barnes were becoming a little friendly. So Barnes might be nervous about Tony’s reaction to the secret crush his friend had been hiding for so long. Clearly, Barnes was not someone who had use for the same kinds of masks or he would have understood that female company didn’t necessarily mean you weren’t living that kind of double life. He’d slept with married men, with good honest family men who picked out different lovers at bars every other night. Many were able to move between worlds as if they were at home in both of them — and some, like Tony, actually were defying labels as always, loving whoever they happened to fall in love with. Tony wasn't someone to kiss and tell. Whether Rogers had dropped his hairpins in front of Barnes or not was none of Tony’s business or concern.

A kiss in the heat of the moment was none of Barnes’ business or concern either.

Rogers wasn’t here and if it was anyone’s place to explain what had happened it was his.

James Barnes was just a worried friend. Someone who had come all this way to get his friend to safety out of loyalty. Rogers was someone who inspired that kind of loyalty in others — if Barnes, Carter and Erskine were any indication. “I tell you what? If they’re still alive, we find him and get Erskine. We get them out of here and he can have his very own Marvels cover with the next issue as soon as we are home.” He was talking about cover illustrations the way he would with Pepper or Rhodey, because that was where his mind went when he was stressed. Adventures were stories you told when you survived.

“He’d like to have his name on the cover one day.”

“The Nomad War Adventures?” Tony asked, distracted as he finally opened the door and jumped out of the truck, leaves scrunching under his boots. “Sounds nice. But I can tell you it’s not the right time to start a new hero magazine. He’d be better off getting into an established one.”

“I meant his name,” Barnes said and chuckled as he jumped out of the truck after Tony. “His signature. He did two covers for Timely. They wanted him to do more, but then he tried to join up and Fury recruited him for sheer stubborn cheek.”

He had been looking around to make sure they weren’t going to be under siege and then had taken a moment to get his bearings, but he now stopped in his tracks abruptly, making Barnes nearly run into his back. “Timely? He managed to sell to Goodman?” Then he turned and stared at Barnes. “He did two covers? For Timely? That’s like yesterday’s Marvels!” Why this of all things managed to surprise him, he didn’t even know, because he had seen the hasty sketches in the notebook and knew Rogers had drawn them. But his professional pride was raising its head even in the middle of all this and he was never taking cutthroat Goodman and his publishing ventures lightly. “Okay,” he said decisively. With a quick motion he pulled out the notebook and opened it to one of the blank pages. “Have a pencil?” Stunned enough not to even ask questions, Barnes pulled one from his jacket pocket and obediently handed it over. Tony scribbled down a few sentences and ripped the page out to shove it at Barnes. “Give this to Ms. Potts when you come back to New York with your friend and he’ll have a job there.” Before the man had even had a chance to look at it, he determinedly stomped forward again to get to his armor. This time he was not looking forward to wearing it. The smells of the woods and rotting foliage, the earthy smells of nature, reminded him of the kinds of hands on adventures he used to have, long before he had ever perfected the Iron Man suit. He was good at double lives and wearing masks, but sometimes air on his face, being exactly who he was without anyone to judge him, was exactly what he needed.

The notebook vanished back into the inside pocket of his jacket. He didn’t need to look at it. He knew where he had to start. He’d ignored the good part of this mystery for too long, in his haste to get to Hydra and slay the mythical dragon, in his impatient rush to get Strucker out of the way and make sure Zemo was a thing of the past. Only now that he realized how futile it was to want Strucker dead when he wasn’t even the only one in charge anymore, did he have time to focus back on it.

Hydra.

He was not happy to learn that they had chosen their name aptly.

And only now he remembered that to kill a dragon you didn’t just need a man in shining armor, you needed a quest. And that was the part he was really good at, wasn’t it? He’d promised Erskine to destroy the necessary ingredient for the serum. That was exactly what he was going to do next.

He jumped back on the truck and pulled the cover away from the armor as he went.

They didn’t need the serum. What they needed was a Hercules to slay the Hydra. And luckily he had one made from Iron right here. All he was missing was the treasure that would lure the dragon out of its cave and the fire that would destroy the secret ingredient.

Fire shouldn't be a problem for him.

“You have a plan?” Natasha asked, and she sounded like she was ready to jump right back in, no hint of exhaustion or tiredness in her voice or stance. As always she was all sharp eyes and determination with her gaze on the next task.

“Oh yes,” he breathed and then put on his cockiest smile. “We’ll be hunting for treasure. We already have a map.” He pawed at his jacket to indicate the notebook. “And we know now that the good doctor found whatever he thought he needed, because he told me to get rid of it.”

Finally he felt he was back in the saddle.

Of course that was when he heard the sound of jets approaching. When he looked out over the heads of his three companions who were still standing before the van and now also turning to watch, War Machine was landing a few feet away, holding the bloody coat he’d last seen Rogers in and Tony had to look away, his heart constricting.

It was the aftereffects of the orichalcum nearly burning out his heart.

Nothing more.

Nothing more.

Quickly they packed what they could carry in form of provisions, some canvass covers, some blankets, water. Natasha was talking to Barnes in hushed tones, but the sergeant looked determined. Tony knew the look, he was out for revenge now. And Tony admitted that he wanted to give him the chance. He also wanted to kick something, to rage, but he knew there wasn’t time for it.

But his hands were shaking and he had to ball them into fists to make it stop, but Barnes caught sight of him. They’d not started out as friends, but losing the person they’d come to save seemed to have given them a new level of understanding. Natasha was the one who brought them back out of it. “He might still be alive — your friend.” She put a hand on Barnes’ arm and he put his own over it gratefully.

“They have Erskine?” Carter asked. She too looked like losing Nomad had been a hard blow, but like it wasn’t going to stop her from moving forward. Her partner had risked his life to get Erskine out of Hydra’s grasp and the least all of them could do now, was to move on and end what he had started.

“I can’t say for sure. I can say there was a fight. Your friend… I don’t think he got away,” Rhodey gestured to the jacket, “and there was no sign of the doctor.”

All of them knew that whatever had happened exactly they would probably never learn, but they could not take the risk of Hydra having Erskine for long or letting them have a shot at building an army of Übermenschen. Tony scrunched his eyes shut and just stood there frozen. “We need to know. If he’s alive we can’t take the risk of leaving him in their hands. They could use him for any kinds of new projects. But first we have to stop them from making super-soldiers.”

“Then what do we do?” Carter was ready to go back into the fight.

“I have to find whatever it was Erskine thinks he has found. If they have Erskine, that’s where they are going to go next too. We need to get there first.” He wished he’d had time to talk to the doctor some more, to ask the important questions. But if he hadn’t let him and Rogers out of his sight, then none of this would have happened. Or Tony would be the one they’d be trying to rescue right now - if it wasn’t to late.

“And then?”

“Then we make sure it does not get in the wrong hands.”

“You know where to look?”

“I think I have an idea. I still have no real idea what we are going to find though, but we are pretty sure we are looking for a plant. That’s why I need you, Rhodey.”

“For my charming smile or my superior piloting skills?”

“You’re my expert on all things natural, Rhodey. Animals and plants. You know that.”

“I know I come in handy in a jungle, boss, but what has that got to do with it? You really think we are looking for a herb that makes super-soldiers?”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t know what we’re looking for. I do remember some of the research we did way back when. I know the ruins, I know where to start looking. I know most of the legends revolving around them. I do have the notebook. But if this is some miracle plant, then I need you to help me find it. And get rid of it.”

In the cool crisp air of a French forest Rhodey looked even more skeptical than he had that one time in the Bolivian jungle when he’d lectured Tony about predators and the foolishness of them venturing into the wild with just the two of them and without more backup. Things had gone belly up not two hours later, but they’d come out with a little llama figurine that held all the information they needed to find the location of an old temple dedicated to a pre-Inkan snake deity. In hindsight Rhodey’s skepticism had been justified.

It hadn’t stopped him then. And his recklessness had been rewarded.

“Where are we going then?” Barnes asked, he had picked up the bloody coat and was carefully folding it up to put it into his backpack. Tony didn't even remember if Rogers had family waiting at home. They would want to have something to make its way back to them. He was about to ask, when Barnes repeated his own question.

“We're going to Glanum.”

“And you think the Silphion is there?”

“Something is going to be there. The doctor told me to destroy it. And this time we'll be properly prepared.” He patted the arm of the Iron Man. “We are going to take them down when they come for us. Because we can't let them go on.”

“That facility we raided,” Natasha started. “That was Hydra, too?”

“Yeah,” he said. “That was Hydra.” They both remembered the smell of decay, the dead bodies deposed off like they were nothing, the soldiers gunning for them with hard expressions guarding the weapons that would wipe out the enemies of the Reich.

“Then we go. Now. Vanko was a good man, too. I do have no interest to let his murderers win this war.”

“We are all in agreement then,” Carter agreed and looked at Tony. “You are running this show now, Mr. Stark. The rest of us are soldiers and spies. You're the one who digs up mystical artefacts.”

“Welcome to the team of the Tony Stark Adventures, ladies and gentlemen.” The Iron Man was towering over his shoulder, standing upright and waiting for its pilot, as he said this. He still had second thoughts about getting back inside, without a proper check-up, but whatever he was feeling most comfortable with didn't matter right now. They couldn't stay here. He climbed up to let himself slip into his seat, pulling the armor shut around him as he did so. “For my first trick,” he announced. “I'll set this truck on fire.”

Chapter Text

They camped outside of Saint-Rémy-de-Provence. Natasha and Peggy made their way into the city to get them some food and scout for any military presence while Tony and the two others waited. It was getting cold, but they did not dare light a fire. It was hard enough to hide with two bulky suits of armor as it was.

Tony lit a candle when it got to dark to read and sat down to study the notebook all over again. He investigated the maps. Why would anyone go digging in Glanum of all places? How had Erskine managed follow any information available about something like Silphion to a small left over oppidum in the Provence, when all known connections to the plant placed it in Kyrene?

He had found notes and a scribbled maps of trade routes in the Mediterranean Sea, but none of that was really convincing enough on its own. Some Celtic inscriptions were marked down beneath and some Gaulic in Greek and Roman script. He could read both scripts, but not the language, but he knew enough to recognize names of tribesmen and tradesmen and gods. But Erskine had made some notes beneath in English.

There was a Latin inscription that he could read: We gave the plant to the well. Hercules rose.

It made a strange amount of sense if you wanted to fit that to the the legends. But was it proof?

He checked what he thought was a map that he was thinking might be an overly simplified map of the Glanum ruins. There was a line for the Roman road that went from north to south through the city, there was a mark for the arc at the city entrance that Tony still remembered from the time when he and Jarvis had visited the excavations done by Pierre LeBrun and Henri Roland. Tony remembered shaking their hands at a time long before he'd become the kind of adventurer archaeologists didn't even want near their excavation sites. Tony couldn't even blame them. He'd been only interested in saving his own life for so long that everything else had just not been as important. Even when it had been.

The position of the sacred well was marked down as well and there was a circle indicating the parts of the ruins that were probably older than the rest. There was a line pointing to the west in an arch and a note said: “This is what Henri was talking about.”

And another read: “Secret temple.” It was underlined three times.

He had no idea what that meant, but secrets where usually a good sign for something that was worth uncovering. “Secret temple,” he muttered. “Secret temple.”

A scrawly sketch of tree formations and something that with some imagination could be interpreted as a monolith was beneath.

“You're grinning,” Barnes pointed out. “Found something?”

“Not sure,” he admitted. “I usually follow my guts and my guts say follow the only half finished map you have at your disposal and that says: Secret Temple somewhere around here.”

“Is that how you make all your plans?”

Rhodey chuckled. “Every second one at least.”

“Not the ones that involve actual science, no,” Tony disagreed.

“You still don't believe we're going to find anything?”

“We are going to find something. Maybe Erskine used the hidden temple to hide away his scientific breakthrough. Maybe he really found something there. I did not have time to ask him about it, but he made me promise to not let it fall into the hands of Hydra, so something is most certainly there.”

He had to wonder how Erskine had even found this place, when he had found it. When had he been in France long enough to even look at the ruins? If Fury's information was correct Erskine and his family had been kidnapped by German agents while Erskine had been in Switzerland. When had he talked to the archaeologists and how had he found out about the connection to his own research?

Tony really found that every piece that fell into place left him with more questions than answers. And there would never be enough time to answer all the questions. He had to focus on finding the temple and ignore everything else for now.

“Are you alright?”

He hadn't noticed that one of his hands was pressing against his heart in an unconscious gesture. Hours had passed and the uncomfortable tingling in his chest had lessened until he had forgotten all about it. Or maybe he hadn't.

“I'm okay, Rhodey.”

“Do you want me to take a look?”

He shook his head. He would feel better knowing that everything remained in working order, especially before going off to follow this excuse for a map, but the thought of exposing his heart right in the middle of a forest in the dark where they could be set upon any minute now and where they didn't even dare to light torches to give Rhodey enough of an idea what he was doing. “I'll let you know if anything changes.”

“Since you're running on the new stuff, you've been taking even more risks than before, boss. I hope you realize that.”

“That's because it's working. Now stop worrying, mom. That's the job of dear Jarvis and one of the reasons why he's on his way back to New York.”

“You’re not sending me back to New York.”

“Yeah, because I need you.”

“Yeah, and I wouldn’t listen anyway.”

“‘s why I keep you around, Jim.”

Barnes had been walking around them in slow circles, guarding the perimeter, keeping an eye out for Natasha and Carter and any unusual movements between the trees. He had closed in now and sat down close to them finally. “It's getting too dark,” he muttered. “I can’t see farther than my nose.”

“Good,” Tony said and was quick to completely change the topic of conversation. He and Barnes were slowly developing something like an understanding, a friendship maybe, but there were just things he'd rather keep close and his heart was at the top of the list. “We’ll move as soon as the ladies are back.”

“Towards the ruins?”

“Close to them. We can expect that on the proper city site there are still excavations in progress. Not sure how many people will be around.”

“In the middle of a war?” Barnes asked, somewhere between incredulous and subdued. He had been determined when they’d made their way here, but since then he had gone quiet. Tony surmised that he had only now started to mourn his friend and he was reluctant to prod him more than necessary.

“Archaeologists are dedicated folk,” Rhodey said in a neutral voice, but Tony knew he had developed a complicated and personal view of the world of academics and scholars, many of which would have dismissed Rhodey and his encyclopedic knowledge of flora and fauna hands down for not being a college boy.

“We can assume if they are here, then the Germans know about it. They may not care or they may be watching very closely.”

Barnes seemed to take that in stride. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time he’d been thrown into a situation with the odds stacked against him. “So we avoid the people working there?”

“If I’m reading Erskine’s slightly erratic notes right, then what we are looking for is not in the abandoned city itself.” He held up the relevant page in the notebook and both Barnes and Rhodey leaned forward so they could see it better in the scarce light. “There’s something in the forest. I suppose this circle here might mark the spot.”

“It’s not an exact map. How are we ever going to find it?” Barnes sounded like he truly had no idea how a bunch of scribbled signs on white paper could actually lead you anywhere.

Tony had to laugh out loud. “It’s a better map than some. But it would help if we knew what we are actually looking for.”

The rest of the time he spent looking at some of the sketches — the ones done by Steve Rogers. He’d been so looking forward to meeting Nomad, the person who had written in a code from his novels like it was a second language to him. This outcome had certainly not been what he had hoped for. He studied a sketch of a fallen statue, half buried in the earth and a marking stone at its side. Another Hercules, parts of the torso rotten away and one arm broken off, but it was still visible that the figure had been leaning on a life sized club, so Tony was reasonably sure it was meant to be Hercules. The other arm was lying against his stomach and he was holding something in his hand that Tony had trouble associating with any myth involving Hercules he knew of. It was a thick stem of a flower or plant with three roundish spheres at the top that might represent umbels.

He stared at it for minutes frowning, questioning his own eyes, or Rogers’ sketching skills, but the sketches he had seen so far hadn't given him the impression that Rogers sketches couldn't be trusted. All the details that were in the Glanum sketches of the pillars he remembered had been exactly right.

Even now it seemed Nomad was helping him along.

Rogers would have earned his place in this part of the adventure.

Rustling made all of them freeze. There were no other sounds that would have hinted at human presence in the woods. Out here it might be animals or just the wind. But it were steps.

“Don’t shoot,” Natasha said, unperturbed, when she came close enough for James Barnes to see her. “We bring food and water.”

“And some none too happy news,” Peggy finished Natasha’s announcement. “They have Erskine. I’ve met up with Bertrand. He's one of our local contacts. He was adamant that we should leave, that the Germans were everywhere and that Zemo has taken up a chateau to the south of the city. Erskine and whatever was left of Steve was dragged there. They think he was dead already when they found the two of them.”

He hated the sound of that and still part of him was glad that they wouldn’t be able to use the captain against Erskine or them any longer. He’d gone through enough already and nothing that his jailers had already done to him would have prepared him for what they would have done to him now that it was personal.

Rogers was most likely gone.

But Zemo was close. What was left of his father was so close and he needed to put a final end to that. Only now the pull wasn’t so strong anymore. The plant in the hand of a Hercules lost in the woods was still burned into his mind and he knew that mystery needed solving first.

“Tony?” Rhodey asked. He knew that this might be a dilemma. Killing Zemo was what Tony had come to do.

“We are going to follow these leads. Rhodey and myself. We should keep an eye on Hydra movements though. We make sure they don’t get whatever it is that’s hidden out there in the woods and then we go after Erskine. Make sure they don’t put him back on the research and discover some new way to build them super-soldiers.”

“They might already have whatever was hidden out there.”

He shook his head. “No, the doctor was sure that only the notebook could give them the information of how to find it. If they had found something before they wouldn’t have bothered with torturing Rogers to get the doctor to cooperate. They would have killed both of them the moment they no longer needed them. But they tried moving all of us here. Closer to this place. No, either Erskine has all of us on a wild goose chase or something is out there and we need to get there first and make sure it’s gone by the time Hydra finally figures it out.”

Sitting before him in the dark, he could see the way in which Barnes was hunched over. The man sighed deeply and Natasha walked slowly over to stand at his side, laying a hand on his shoulder in support.

“We find whatever they are after and destroy it. And then…” He stopped, trying to make sure he wanted to give as much information. “Then we destroy Hydra. Every last one of them. Starting with… Zemo.”

Rhodey was standing at his side now in the same way that Natasha had positioned herself near Barnes. He could make out Natasha’s eyes glittering in the darkness watching him, too. Rhodey said imploringly: “Let me deal with that.”

“No, absolutely not. That’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“You don’t even know…”

“It’s still Howard under there,” he said and was aware how at least two people froze in the dark, suddenly aware that Tony had been hunting for Zemo the whole time, while Strucker or Zemo or the whole of Hydra had been hunting for them in turn. “Strucker made sure I knew that it was my familial duty to take his place, before they knocked me out and put me on that truck. He could be lying, of course, but I don’t think he was.”

“They are after you, because you would make a good Zemo, Tony. That doesn’t mean they weren’t lying.”

Everyone was watching them now and he knew it. He owed them some kind of explanation. “They turned my father — or what was left of him after the war — into that monster. They used a formula, something like the nightmare they now want to create to make themselves super-soldiers, and injected him with it. That’s how they make Zemo. Warping the mind of a suitably brilliant man to then come up with more horrors for their crusade. It has to stop. Whoever is under that mask now, it has to stop once and for all.”

“Is that why….?” Carter’s voice faltered, but Barnes had no trouble coming to a conclusion and voicing the question: “That’s why they want you? That’s why they wanted you so badly in their clutches from the beginning? Are you telling me you knew they would and you…?”

“I had hoped by now they would be angry enough at me to just want to see me take my dying breath at the earliest convenience. I had even… assumed they might have picked Erskine as a suitable new candidate. Or even Vanko. They are looking for a scientific genius everywhere and they’ve been collecting. They don’t need an inventor like me. They just want one. Because it worked out for them very well so far.”

“God,” Barnes said and buried his face in his hands. “You didn’t say any of this.”

“I trust Fury with most information relating to the things I get up to behind the lines. But this is a bit personal.” He sighed. “You didn’t trust me to come here alone either because Rogers was your mission — and this is my mission. I didn’t even want to involve anyone in this. But I had no intention of giving Fury a reason to keep me safely in the camp.”

Rhodey was still standing close to his side. “We’re all involved now.”

“You father died after the war. Shortly after the war, Tony,” Natasha said. “Everybody knows that. We have a whole file on you that has pictures of the small boy you were at his funeral. He died.”

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what I thought too, until I met Zemo in person in 1938, while they were using me to get to a precious artifact and pulling my strings like I was working for them already. He died and left me behind. That’s the knowledge I grew up with. And the truth is that hasn’t changed. Howard Stark died the moment that syringe was put to him. Or at least the man who was sent home was in his death throes. And when it was over there was only Zemo left, who took all he could of Howard’s research, faked his death and went with Hydra.”

“That’s… horrible,” Barnes said meekly. “They could turn anyone they want into someone working for their cause?”

Tony shrugged. He had revealed more than ever before and despite trusting this group of people, the only one here he called close enough friend to know all this was Rhodey. Sharing had never been something he was good at. He kept his own wounds and weaknesses close to heart in the truest sense of the word. Secrecy had saved his life before.

He rubbed his hands together and then got up. “This is personal for me. But it’s not for you. So anyone who wants out, should make a decision now.”

They all looked at him in the scant candle light, as if they were looking at him for the first time. He never liked that, preferred people to look at him through the veil of their own preconceptions.

“This is personal now for me as well,” Barnes said.

“And me,” Peggy agreed.

“And I already told you I wasn’t leaving.”

He was about to point out that he was not a military leader, that any of them had more qualification for that kind of operation, but somehow he had already realized that he was the uncontested leader of this “expedition” now. Suits me fine, he thought.

“Alright,” he crouched down and everyone gathered around as he outlined the area they would need to cover, explained the few details they had to work with.

“You think Steve’s picture of that statute means something?”

“Yeah, Barnes, I feel like he’s still giving us pointers even now. He must have been here, perhaps with Erskine.”

Barnes nodded. It was hard to read his face in the darkness, but the way he was holding himself had changed. This was a man ready to go into battle, to win or fall trying. Just like Tony had gone into this from the beginning.

There wasn’t anything they could do for Rogers now. But his presence could still be felt. Just like he was always aware that Howard had made him what he was, even if he’d missed out on seeing him grow up. Jarvis had made sure he knew he was his father’s son, that he owed more to him than just a name and a company. In a way Howard had remained a felt presence in his life even after he’d been ripped from it. Strucker hadn't been wrong about that: He was his father's son.

And the son would make sure that Hydra would not get their hands on whatever secret was hidden out there. He owed as much to the people who wouldn’t be able to get their own revenge. He would not forget about the father who he vaguely remembered carrying him around his workshop, instilling him with a love for engineering and science from the very beginning. He would not forget about about the lost soldier. He would cherish the memory of a desperate and final kiss on a battlefield and use it to fuel his anger.

Over the years he had learned to read adventures. They always had an element of surprise, but he hadn’t survived even his most dangerous ventures without learning how to read a situation and change his plans on the fly. Usually he hunted for treasure, for mystical artifacts that promised a glimpse into long lost civilizations and their superior knowledge or their forgotten scientific advancements. Most of them he’d found over the years had been lost and forgotten for a reason, because the downside far outweighed the benefits, or because the power they brought was not easily harnessed. This time the treasure was not the goal of his expedition at all, it was a step on the way to take out a monster.

And he was ready to find whatever it was and keep his promise to the doctor and destroy it.

He motioned to Rhodey to start breaking up their sad excuse for camp. At some point he knew he would have to take some rest, try to give himself the time to recover, but now was simply not the time. Everybody else jumped into action, too, no questions asked. Even Carter, who was still struggling with her own injury seemed energized with determination.

“The biggest problem will be the armors,” Rhodey said. “We usually put them away, when we go hunting through the forest.”

“I’m not sure how you being Iron Man even surprised me,” Barnes quipped. He leaned over to stage whisper at Rhodey: “Stark didn’t strike me as the subtle kind of person from the start. It’s one of the things I found so annoying about all his adventures.”

“Tony,” he corrected. “Subtlety is never what I’m going for.” Under the circumstances he was going to take Barnes willingness to make fun of him as a good sign. He seemed ready to get back in the saddle and join the hunt, for the moment putting his grief aside.

In his mind he had already outlined their next steps: They would relocate with the help of the armors and then hide them as best as they could. One of them could stay behind to guard them if necessary. He took stock of their equipment, their acquired weapons and ammunition. He had some rope and a compass and an army map of the region. He still had some explosives of different sizes left. Before they started on their little field trip he tried to transfer the marks on Erskine’s haphazard map to the real one, so they’d have at least a general idea of where to look for clues. Approximation was better than stabbing in the dark and as it was they’d be doing more than enough of that, because they did not want to draw too much attention.

They moved as close as they dared to Glanum without running into any trouble. Natasha and Barnes were holding on to the Iron Man armor and Peggy was only a small form cradled in War Machine’s gigantic arms.

When they reached their destiny they finally made camp for the night, huddling together, Rhodey took the first watch.

Tony fell asleep, uneasily listening to the sounds of the wood, finding fitful rest, dreaming chaotic dreams of his father’s deranged eyes as he laughed at him, of Hercules brandishing a flower stalk instead of a sword and of soft lips pressed to his, soft blue eyes watching him with regret.

In the early morning Tony felt a lot better. The pressure he was feeling in his chest could be blamed on the nervousness and general unease of being in enemy territory, but his heart was beating at a steady pace and his head was feeling much improved. They did their best to hide the two towering armors under one of the canvass covers and gathered fallen branches, twigs and foliage to cover them completely.

Inspecting the mounds they’d created with a frown, Barnes muttered: “Someone needs to stay behind and keep watch. We can't risk losing this kind of weapon.”

“Well, I’m the obvious choice, my dear,” Peggy volunteered readily. Natasha had helped her change her bandages and they’d inspected the wound and it wasn’t exactly healing yet, but they had managed to avoid infection. Agent Carter was going to live — if they didn’t manage to walk into the next Hydra trap. She was right in assuming that she wouldn’t be much help when they were crawling around the forest to find hidden temples, not only because of the wound, but because spies didn't necessarily make good treasure hunters. And with the unreliable information at their disposal they had no idea where exactly the search would lead them. The wood terrain shouldn't be too daunting and Tony didn't know of any cliffs in the area, but if something was out there undiscovered and undisturbed since the times of Glanum, then it couldn't just be somewhere in the middle of the forest where everyone could just easily walk right into it. It was down in the ground or hidden in some sort of inaccessible place.

A hidden temple in the middle of a vast and near impenetrable jungle was one thing. A hidden temple in the middle of a forest close to busy cities and villages must be hidden pretty well or someone would have stumbled over it a long time ago.

“I’d offer to stay behind with you,” Barnes told Peggy with a half-smile, “but I feel like I should not turn down the chance to take part in a real Tony Stark adventure. After all, I’ve heard so much about them.”

“Just don’t complain when there are explosions,” Rhodey quipped and threw Tony a significant look.

“Explosions are recent,” he said tartly. “Gunfire and caves dropping in on us, that’s what it’s all about.”

“I was warned.” Barnes actually grinned at him as if he meant it this time. They'd had a rough few days. They all were disheveled and unwashed and the night they'd spent outside had left some marks as well as the trouble that had gone before, but their spirits had lifted a little, because now they knew what they needed to do.

“I’ll stay with Ms. Carter,” Natasha announced. “My skills are better used out here, keeping an eye on enemy movements.”

Tony nodded his head, but told her with a straight face, as he was packing the notebook more securely into his leather bag with supplies and gadgets. “You just don’t want to end up in an exploding facility.”

“You mean, like the last time?”

He grinned. “No need to be ashamed. Explosions aren't for everybody.”

“I have no problem with explosions. I'm not much use with digging around in the dirt. You can call me when you want to make stuff explode again or kill someone. I deal much better with that.” She hit his shoulder with a small, but incredibly strong fist. He was sure it would leave a mark, but it was all friendly enough for him to enjoy a moment of laughter. The gloom of his dreams had faded now that he was back in his element. The complicated, unpleasant feelings were all still there, somewhere in back of his mind, but right now it didn't matter.

Tony reached into his bag and gave Natasha the long range radio they’d taken from her safe house before they’d set out to free Erskine. “Use it if you have to. We don’t want them to find us or you by tracking our communications or listening in.”

“I’m not doing this for the first time, tovarish,” she said rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll keep watch and warn you when things start moving around here.”

They set out, just the three men. Tony was following the map from his memory, sure he had enough experience to just follow the sun and his compass for now. He hadn't been in this area for years and back then he hadn't actually been looking for anything yet, but he had mastered far more challenging terrain, so this part should not be a problem.

For about an hour they marched through the wood, Barnes and Rhodey both carrying rifles and not talking much in case they got sudden company. They avoided streets for obvious reasons. They didn't meet a soul and for now were glad for it. Curfew had still been in effect when they started walking and whoever was outside at ungodly hours was either in their camp, a crook or a soldier of the enemy side. By the time they reached Glanum the sun had risen and Tony took note of anything out of the ordinary. They left the ruin city to their left and marched further into the woods where he assumed the map was leading them.

Barnes kept a careful eye on the tree line. “There are people down there,” he whispered and nodded in the direction of the ruins.

“There usually are,” Tony said, remembering their own short trip to the ruins, but realized that with France occupied the stream of tourists would actually have died down. They stopped to watch the proceedings from afar and only moved on when they were satisfied that no soldiers were waiting between the ruins. From here Tony could make out the well preserved arc and the stony road that led into the small city of ruins.

“Let's go,” he urged. He had a feeling that at some point Strucker or Zemo or the new guy, Johann, would figure out where they'd gone off to and he wanted to at least have an idea what he was searching for here before that happened.

With the closeness of the ruins, Barnes opted to keep a few steps behind them and to the side, keeping close watch on any movement that entered the woods from the direction of Glanum.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Rhodey questioned, when Tony started to go slower to investigate their surroundings.

“Something is marked down in this area,” he said. “It's hard to tell how accurate the map is though. I can only make guesses here.” He took a moment to take out the notebook and make sure he was moving in the right direction. “Perhaps we should split up. We can cover more ground that way.”

“Would be easier if we knew what we are looking for.”

“Anything,” Tony declared, because he wasn't sure about that part. If Erskine found something, then there must be some sort of clue left that would make it possible to retrace his steps. He remembered the sketch of the fallen Hercules statue and couldn’t shake the feeling it was significant. He just didn’t know in what way. Had people worshiped a wonder drug out here? And what was there to find that was still left of it? A formula? Recipe?

They spread out to cover more ground, but remained in sight of each other. They found a formation of large boulders that might have formed a stone circle once and that seemed to correspond to some markings on the map, but apart from that they came up empty handed. A little to the south of the ruined city another excavation had started to uncover the even older remains of the pre-Roman town. But their little hand drawn sketch map told them to stay clear of that. If there was anything to find it would be to the west. Tony followed all the scarce clues and walked between the trees in circles, testing the ground, swishing away foliage with his boot. He couldn’t be sure where exactly the marked spot was supposed to be.

He knew these thing needed time. You couldn’t force a search like this. You couldn’t force your brain to make connections before you found the right set of hints and he tried to remain patient, to not think about how time was running out with every minute they lingered here.

“Tony?” Rhodey called. “Look at this.”

Barnes and Tony followed the call to where Rhodey was standing between the trees. He was looking down at something looked like a medium sized road marker that had been slumbering here in the middle of the forest all but forgotten. Whether condition had chipped away at it and it was covered in moss and dirt, blackened by age. He crouched down to get a better look and then took out his pocket knife to clean away some of the moss and then stopped. It was expected that there’d be one side covered in more moss and dirt, but someone had cleaned part of this side, recently enough for no moss to be on the lower side of it.

With the overall condition of the thing it was hard to tell, but edging his fingers along the grooves and indentations he knew he’d found an inscription or sign, man made. A sign someone had discovered before them.

“What is it?”

“Looks like a road marker,” Rhodey said.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed and looked back in the direction of Glanum. “Just that there was no Roman road here. The main road went right through the middle of the oppidum and away from here. There was nothing in this direction to find as far as we know.”

“What is it then?” Barnes crouched down beside him, eyes the stone from all sides. “How can you tell it’s Roman?”

He was about to point out that some of the grooves he was feeling along could be identified as Roman numerals, but Barnes was pointing to something on the side of the stone that was facing him and Tony looked around. “What’s that?”

“That” looked like a crest formed out of the stone, small and weathered, but still visible. A flower, shaped like a flaming sun, deeply edged into the stone by human hand. There was the rune for power beside it. A Celtic symbol out of place on a Roman way stone.

Tony looked around them, saw nothing that even remotely indicated that there had been a road here before at any time. He looked at the small symbol. A sun. A flower. It would be too much of a coincidence to find the flower here of all places and have it not be connected to the Silphion, but he knew, it was never a good idea to make the facts mean what was convenient, just because you wanted to interpret things a certain way.

“What does it mean?” Barnes asked, while he watched Tony run his fingers along the lines on the stone.

“Who knows,” Tony muttered. “It is a way stone. But why would you put a way stone somewhere where there never was a way?”

“You intended to build a road?” Barnes looked at the markings then at him and shrugged. “Or it was never intended to sit here?”

“Might be,” Tony got up to get a better look at the surrounding area. The number on the stone read simply IV. Four. He tried to find anything telling him what exactly that meant. Glanum wasn’t visible between the trees from his vantage point, but they hadn’t walked more than a mile yet.

Rhodey was now on his knees before the stone, fingering the numbers and testing the surface. “Could be m. p.,” he muttered. “What do you think?”

“Could be.” He leaned over to get another good look. “Would make sense to have something like that on a way stone. But what is it referring to. It’s not Glanum. Glanum is too close. Any major city it could have referred to too far away.”

“What does m.p. mean?” Barnes asked, watching Tony with some uneasy as he turned around himself to search the area with his eyes.

“A Roman mile,” Rhodey explained. “Four Roman miles.”

“But we have no idea if this is meant to be a clue. Four miles to what exactly? There’s no indication of what that would mean.”

“This thing was marked down on the map. It must mean something.”

Rhodey chuckled. “Don’t get impatient, sergeant.”

While the two of them remained hunched over the stone, Tony grabbed the little notebook again, looked at the map and the scarce markings. There was a haphazardly sketched in arrow that had been done with a much sharper pencil than the rest that pointed away from the map. He’d not paid much attention to it before, had just assumed that someone had made a quick note here to north, to make it easier to know how to hold the map when you had a compass for orientation. He flapped open the leather pouch he held up his own compass to make sure his suspicions were right. The arrow was pointing further to the south-west of the oppidum that the little pencil arrow. It wasn't marking North then.

“We can’t cover three miles. Rhodey, Barnes, let’s spread out and see if we can find anything further away.”

“More walking in circles?” The sergeant sounded unenthusiastic about the prospect.

“I’m testing a theory and if it’s proven wrong I hope we come up with a different clue,” he said and already started walking off in the general direction of northwest.

He heard the other two starting to walk too. Spreading out, but keeping in sight. This went on for more than 20 minutes — Tony stopping at every mound in the woods that looked like a hidden stone or sign — without any more finds. Then Barnes called: “I think here is another one.”
Tony looked at the compass in his open palm, before he even looked over at Barnes with a grin. Barnes was slightly more on the path that would lead westwards. “Congratulation,” he said. “I think you found our path to our hidden temple.”

Barnes huffed and muttered, accusingly: “You knew it was there.”

“No, I just hoped something would be there to lead us somewhere.”

The kept on their trail, slowly moving through the forest, Tony trusting his compass more now than the waystones. They were marking an invisible road and apart from the first one, none had that crest or any runes on it. There was simply a Roman number. And it seemed they were counting down. Tony felt sure they were on the right track by the time the reached the stone reading “II”. It took them a while to find the final one, half eroded and hidden under a fallen tree. Tony had just bent down to inspect it, hoping for the last and decisive clue, when Rhodey stumbled.

“Everything alright?”

“I found an arm,” Rhodey said deadpan and both Tony and Barnes tensed, before Rhodey laughed. “Made of stone.”

“Oh,” Tony practically jumped over the tree trunk to get a look. White stone, a nearly destroyed hand holding a flower. He could not immediately make out the statue. The arm was lying a good 6 feet away from it pointing straight ahead between the trees. Without following the pointed flower with his eyes, he would probably have missed the slight mound that looked like a forgotten long barrow.

It was like someone was still giving them pointers and he had to think of Rogers, his sketch of the statue, and the way he’d left a code in a notebook he had hoped Tony would remember. Even now he was leaving him hints. Brave fool, he thought fondly and only with a touch of sadness.

After hours of trailing through the forest, he felt like he was finally close.

He took a moment to inspect the statue lying on its side. Someone had tried to cover it up. In fact it looked like someone had dug it out and covered it up again. It didn’t look as clean and white as the sketched picture had made it seem, bits and pieces of dirt sticking to all the parts of it. But it was clearly the same statue. It was the Hercules with the broken away club. The arm had broken off cleanly and he could probably take it and set it back into place with a little work.

But he wasn’t here to preserve the Hercules.

He was here to find the thing he needed to destroy before Hydra destroyed everyone else with it.

Rhodey’s gaze had also followed the way the arm was pointing. “It’s been deliberately placed.”

“Let’s hope this was Erskine or Rogers in hopes of telling us where to look. I'm very tired of traps.”

“Let’s hope it’s not somebody's invitation, then.”

“We’ve had enough walking into parties for one adventure already,” Tony agreed.

Barnes had moved closer to look at the arm and then at the mound. “You think that’s the temple? It looks… like a hill. Like any hill.”

“Or a grave.” Rhodey didn’t seem to like the thought any better than Barnes.

“You’ve followed me into tombs and ancient pyramids. That’s not really going to stop us right now. So, how are we getting in?”

Tony took the arm of the Hercules and buried it beside the statue, before getting up again. Rhodey and Barnes were already walking around the barrow. Now that he looked between the trees he thought that once there must have been a wall around here, made of earth and wood. If he looked closely he could still see the earth forming a higher circle around them in a wide arch, now well disguised by undergrowth and new trees. It must have been an impressive site once.

“Tony!” It was Barnes calling and it got Tony’s attention immediately, because so far the prickly sergeant hadn’t even once called him anything but “Stark”. He hurried to get to his side to the right of the mound and found him crouched down staring into the ridge. It was big enough for a man to crawl through with some difficulty. But more important than the discovery of the black hole in the construction, offering up nothing but darkness, was the fact that earth had been disturbed there. Someone had worked his way in recently and then tried to cover his tracks. Someone had been here.

They were on the right track.

“You should look at this, fellows,” Rhodey spoke from above them. He was standing on top of the barrow mound and pointed to the back of the construction. “I found something,”

“We found the entrance, I think,” Barnes said and there was an excited red tinge to his cheeks. It seemed for the first time since this had started he had been caught up in the adventure, the excitement of the treasure hunt. Tony smiled. Even with the grimness of what they were facing and the grief he was feeling for the people they had all lost to this war, it was good to see the glimmer of pure life in Barnes' eyes now. He could feel it too. The thirst to get to the heart of this, to lay his hands on whatever had been hidden down there.

But for the moment he pulled himself away, trusting Rhodey and his instincts. He followed him as he walked away from the barrow, closer to the now nearly invisible line of former limits of the temple complex. There was a small clearing, just a small patch where no trees were blocking the light and grass had started to grow. And there it was. Right in the middle.

A gap.

It was an open ridge, not just a hole in the ground someone dug out. It was the opening to a cavern beneath. He leaned over carefully to look at it. “How has no-one ever gotten lost here with this in the ground?” It wasn’t wide enough or long enough for someone to fall through though. “How long do you think it has been here?”

Rhodey shrugged. “Does not look man made to me.”

He threw the first little stone he could find inside and heard it connect with something and then again and then nothing. “So there’s a cavern. The fact that we’re running around on top of it and it’s not caving in is… heartening.” The grin on his face told Rhodey all he needed to know. The man’s smile was mild and he rolled his eyes a bit, but he wasn’t going to complain. They had all know why they’d come here.

Barnes was watching them from over where that entrance was. “Do we have any flashlights. You said you had some packed.”

Tony and Rhodey both laughed as Rhodey pulled out two and threw one over at Barnes who caught it. “Not just a flashlight, sergeant. It’s a Stark Industries prototype.”

“Cooked it up before we went into the labyrinth under the Pyramid of Death.”

“That’s a Marvels title,” Barnes remarked. “Don’t tell my the real place was really called that.”

“No,” Tony admitted. “But the real name would not have sold magazines and the locals are happy we’re not dragging the name of their town through our adventure stories.”

“That’s down right considerate of you, Mr. Stark,” Barnes said tartly and grinned. “So I take it we won’t have to get lost down there in the dark.”

They crouched down before the gap someone had used to get inside the cavern. “How did anyone even fit in there?” Rhodey wondered. He was a big man and there was no way that he would fit in there easily. Tony thought maybe Barnes was slim enough, but he could see both him and Barnes have trouble getting in too. Barnes was looking at him with a gloomy expression. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was thinking.

Steve Rogers would have fit in there without a problem. Thin lanky Steve.

He had been here.

How likely was it that Erskine had crawled down there? Had he asked Steve to go?

“Seems like your friend had a Tony Stark adventure after all.”

“Yeah,” Barnes said. “Just without you.” Two days ago he might have sounded gleeful about that, but today he sounded sad, like brave Nomad had missed out on something.

Tony still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the one missing out here. If he’d met Steve sooner, he would have taken him around the world. They could have blown up all the Nazi torture chambers and crazy scientist labs together. Clearly, Rogers had a knack for that.

They widened the gap a bit and used their flashlights to shed some light into the darkness. There were rock formations and some wetness, but nothing that seemed to indicate the presence of a temple. Tony took some time to flash the light along the bottom of the cave to make sure he knew what he was getting into and then set about pushing himself into the opening, legs first. There was a tense moment, when he felt he couldn’t go any further, than some of the ground around him gave way and he tumbled in on a wave of dirt. He reached up so one of his companions could pass him the flashlight, both of their faces in the opening now the only thing he could see of them. He stepped forward, flashing the light about and realized that the cavern didn’t just stop where he thought it did. There was a rune like the one he’d seen before leading the way and as he stepped closer, he finally saw the real entry to the cave, two statues of Hercules to the right and left of the staircase.

He whistled. “There are stairs down here, gentlemen. This is it.”

“Don’t go in before we’re inside, Tony.” Rhodey’s warning followed him as he already made his way over to the stairs and was taking the first step down. They’d been doing this for years. It was funny that Rhodey even still bothered with his warnings.

The first to enter the cavern behind him was Barnes’ though and he appeared on the steps behind Tony when he was nearly down half of it. “Is it stable?”

“We’ll know when we get out of here and aren’t dead,” Tony said, only half joking. They made their way down into the chamber, Rhodey catching up to them, muttering a only half heard: “One of us should have kept watch.”

“If they are here we are sitting ducks anyway.” Tony knew it was unlikely that they would be able to escape from a tiny tunnel in the ground. But there was nothing to be done about it now. They needed to see what was down there and then they could move on to the next stage. Whatever that would be.

When they reached the final stair, Tony used a button on his own flashlight to give them a larger cone of light. The air was damp and cold and slightly stale. But it didn’t matter, because the sight of it took his breath away.

“Wow,” Barnes said behind him and then stepped around him to get a better look, staring at their hidden temple in wide-eyes awe. “Wow.”

It wasn’t big, nothing like the Zeus temple in Athens or the Mayan pyramids they’d found in South America or the different remains of Atlantis he’d come across. Still, this was the kind of treasure that was worth finding even when it wasn't the one that saved his life. The knowledge and beauty hidden in these kind of places would always live in his memories.

The altar before them was completely fitted into the cavern. He immediately recognized the pillars from the sketch. This was what Rogers had drawn. The hidden temple. What hadn’t been on the sketch had been the rest of it. The altar was set up along the opposite wall from the stairs. Pillars were holding up a nicely decorated, symbolic roof. Braziers had been set up around the cavern, the two biggest ones were close to the sides of the altar. But that wasn’t the remarkable thing. The noteworthy thing about it all was what had not made it onto the sketch. There was a dried up fountain on the opposite side surrounded by pillars and on top, right where the water would have flown out, a standing half naked woman was holding a bowl and an equally half-dressed man was kneeling before her drinking from her chalice. A club was lying a his side and she was holding the flower this time, her outstretched hand pointing over his head to the back of the cavern, where a beam of sunlight was falling down through the ridge they’d found above and lighting up the whole place. A little spring was springing from the stone there and even in the scarce light grass and moss had sprung up like a testament to the resilience of life. It was eerie and magical and achingly beautiful.

It seemed there was no ancient technology, no artifact waiting for them here. Just this strange parable for life. It should have been more disappointing. After all they’d wasted too many hours to get here instead of hunting down Hydra. But he’d made the doctor a promise and he was going to keep that. And this was one of the memories that were just worth it, even if he knew he would have to do the unspeakable.

He had already gotten here and if he couldn’t figure out the mystery fast enough then he’d just take the whole temple down before anyone else got here who had the time to figure this out and be a danger to the world.

Barnes stood before it in awe. “All this has always been here?”

“Not always. But for a long time,” Tony whispered. He stepped closer to also get a better look, while Rhodey started to move around the cavern carefully.

“It’s amazing,” Barnes said and stretched out his hand to touch the club of what Tony was sure must be another kneeling Hercules. “I think I never really took the time to look at old stuff. But this is amazing. I think I understand for the first time why you run around the globe looking for secrets like this. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “It’s amazing.” He had to think of standing in the last temple of Atlantis, taking the trident made of orichalcum knowing that he’d found the ingenious piece of technology that had killed the most amazing civilization this planet might ever have seen and that he would use it to save his own sorry life, to in the long run make the world a better place.

“I wish Steve could have been here,” Barnes said sadly.

“I think he was,” Tony said. “He sketched the altar. It’s in the notebook.”

Barnes awed look turned into a sad smile. “Stubborn, little bastard. He really wanted to be you.”

“I hope not,” Tony said. “I'm just a rich kid who thought running around the globe would solve all his problems. Nomad was much braver than I ever was.”

“I'm not arguing with you on that. But you are closer to the stories he was telling than I would ever have given you credit for.”

“Come on, Barnes, don't go soft on me in the face of the beauty of ancient architecture. I’ll worry.”

“Bucky,” the man said. “My friends call me Bucky.”

“Nice to meet you, Sergeant Bucky,” Tony told him and grinned and he grinned back.

“So, what does any of this mean?” He gestured at the fountain.

“Hercules drinking from a cup.” He shrugged. “It's not any legend I'm familiar with. But from the symbolism I'd say this is the goddess Panacea. She was the goddess of remedy. Greek. Not Roman.” The mix of influences wasn't surprising. Glanum had been a little settlement that had been in early contact with other settlements and cities – like the harbor city that was today Marseilles. They'd been in contact with the Greeks before the Romans ever set out to conquer the local heathens.

As if he'd been reading his thoughts, Rhodey called: “There are Celtic symbols all around the cave walls.” He was standing to the back of the altar touching some of the signs he had found there. “Do we have one of your special cameras?”

“In the backpack you're carrying,” Tony told him. “We should take as many pictures as possible for later.”

“Don't we need more light for that?”

“Usually,” Tony said cryptically. He wasn't going to go into detail about how he'd developed a special film that would work in exactly these conditions, because he'd set out to open an ancient tomb in China and had had no idea how long conditions inside the tomb could be preserved. Instead of photographing the riches inside he had found a dragon. Or... Well, he kept to the story that it had been a dragon, because damn he had no idea what else to call it.

But Barnes didn’t need to know that. And even with the partnership and the mutual respect they had formed now, Tony was reluctant to have too much information about his inventions get back to Fury. The general was just the kind of man who knew how to make the best use of the people around him and the fact that Tony was here, just minutes away from hopefully eradicating any trace or the thing needed to make him super-soldiers, made him especially aware that Fury didn’t need any more knowledge to pull his strings in the future.

“Celtic? So it's what? Older?” Barnes asked.

“It probably means this was a holy place long before the Greeks or Romans brought their Hercules cult here. There was a holy spring and the Celts built their own cult around it.”

“Come here,” Rhodey called. “Look at this. They've left us carvings to tell the story.”

A big stone plate as big as the altar stood right behind it like it had been put up somewhere before and had then been set down there when it had no longer been needed. It wasn’t a masterpiece as far as Tony could tell in this light, but probably still a priceless piece of art. Finely carved from the stone the scenes told the short story of Hercules killing the Hydra, burning off the heads, so that no new ones could spring up in their place. But something was different here. Instead of just dipping his arrows into the Hydra’s poison the hero lay dying, poisoned himself. The final scene was of the goddess giving him the all-cure.

“It was only the second task, killing the Hydra. He uses the Hydra poison later, doesn’t he? For his arrows? I never heard the story where a goddess comes to cure him with an all-cure, because he was poisoned himself.”

“Me neither,” Rhodey admitted. “But look at this.”

He pointed at the Celtic knots and patterns decorating the cave walls. There was a representation of the tree of life, and a well and one of the only things he could decipher was the word ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱ, the word for the Germanic god of thunder. He touched it, marveling at how old some of this must be. This probably went back right to the times of that iron age settlement, the French archaeologist were looking for now.

He was too busy with tracing the runes and the bit that remained of the paintings, that Bucky’s voice came as a bit of a surprise. “What’s this?”

“What?”

“It looks like there’s paper stuck under the stone.” Barnes was still inspecting the carved scenes of Hercules receiving the healing potion after the fight with the Hydra. “Look. It’s paper.”

A folded piece of white paper was peaking out from beneath the stone. Tony carefully pulled at it and it came out easily, like it had just been pushed in a ridge to stay out of sight. Opening it, he was greeted by the crisp and clean handwriting of Steve Rogers. It was just lines of the code he’d previously used and it was clear that despite telling Tony to stay away he’d expected him to come anyway, or when he thought about it maybe he’d written this before he had passed on the notebook — before he’d figured out that Hydra wanted Tony for more than just the obvious reasons.

“If you found this place, you know what it all means. I’ve taken samples for Erskine, but I suppose your being here means we did not make it out and I will not make it back to do this myself. Destroy the plant. It should have been extinct long ago. Do not let them have it. With Erskine’s knowledge it will destroy the world. It was nice walking in your shoes for a while.”

The signature was not in code: “Nomad,” it read.

It was painful to think that they’d had all the right pieces of the puzzle and none of this would have been necessary if Nomad had made it out with Erskine as planned. The memories of the softly smiling young man in the truck would go on haunting him.

He’d already given his promise to the doctor, but it was Steve’s plea that finally sealed the deal. If he didn't find the Silphion in the next few minutes he’d take down the whole cave and be done with it.

Rhodey had gone on exploring the cavern, while Tony had read the note, but Barnes was glued to his side. “What does it say?”

“Destroy the plant,” he said.

“What plant? There is no darn plant, just the temple.”

Just then Rhodey cleared his throat noisily to get their attention. He was standing right under the beam of light. “This plant,” he said. “This is it.”

They rushed over, as if Rhodey had just told them he’d found a pile of diamonds. What they saw in the sunbeam looked like blossoming fennel or hemlock, with fewer and simpler umbels and broader leaves and a stalk that was stocky and short. Plants were not his area of expertise, but Rhodey’s. “You sure?”

“It’s not any kind of Umbelliferae that belongs here in France. Not any that I’ve ever come across. Either it’s what we are looking for or we stumbled on a new sort of undiscovered plant right in this spot on accident.”

“Not likely. Steve told us to get rid of the plant,” Barnes cut in.

There was a whole lot of the plants and in this confined space it looked like once upon a time they must have been cultivated here.

“How could they have grown here in the first place?” he asked, because there was nothing about a cold wet cave that made it obvious why a North African plant should have survived here of all places.

“I have no idea,” Rhodey admitted. “but it looks like once upon a time these were tended too. That anything grows here is not coincidence. Someone made a bed to grow these plants, even if now it looks like they’ve always been here.”

Tony looked at the stocky stalks. He could see at least thirty plants that seemed big enough to be considered fully grown, coming up to his hips. From the depictions he’d seen, he would just have expected them to grow higher. In some places the earth had been disturbed. At least two plants had been dug out and some stalks had been cut. “Should we take some?” Rhodey was already moving around taking pictures. Even with the highly sensitive film, Tony doubted many of their photos would be as impressive as the temple they’d found.

“We should take some for Peggy,” Barnes suggested. “Can’t do any harm, right?”

Rhodey didn’t look comfortable with using an unknown plant for medicinal purposes, but nodded after a moment of thought. “It looks too much like hemlock for my taste. Who says it isn’t poison? How did this work, Tony?”

“As far as we know people drank and applied the sap. It’s not like a handbook for use survived. Which is funny, if you think about the fact that we know delicious dormice recipes. ”

“You do have a handbook,” Barnes pointed out.

“It doesn’t say anything about using it as it is. Pages are missing. And there’s lots of talk about different forms of radiation that can stabilize the serum before it’s applied to the future super-soldier, but it’s only gibberish without the full notes — or without Erskine’s explanations.”

“So it can’t be used like this?”

“We could test it.”

As soon as the words had come out of his mouth, Rhodey gave him a warning look. “You are not just going to taste it. Do you have an idea how deadly hemlock is? How poisonous some kind of this family of plants can be? Don’t make me knock you out over something like this. I’ve had enough of saving your life over your health problems without you going and drinking poison just to test something.”

“Yes, mother. I promise not to self-induce another heart attack.” But before Rhodey could protest some more he touched one of the thicker leaves and broke it. “Oh look, nothing untoward happened.”

“Tony! You drag me out here because I’m the expert on botanical questions. For what? So you can kill yourself with the first bit of slightly mutated hemlock you find?” To Barnes ears he must sound like he was joking, but Tony could hear the underlying worry, the worry his close-knit family of friends had been sharing since all of this started. Rhodey was afraid that Tony was acting erratic. For what it was worth, Tony just didn’t think Erskine had led him here to recover some poisonous plant. Tony himself had done too much research on Silphion once upon a time to believe it. this was the right plant. and for centuries a plant that had been described to be from the same family as hemlock had been the famed all-cure of the ancient world. He was just not that worried.

“I dragged you out here, mom, because someone needed to pilot War Machine. And because you’re handy in any fight, Jim. Don’t be mad.” He rubbed a finger through the sap and waited for something, anything to happen, then he smelled it. It smelled faintly aromatic, not as grassy as he would have expected. “It smells like sage.”

Rhodey carefully smelled the leave. “I swear if you poison yourself now after all we went through together, I’ll kill you before you die.”

“Thanks, that’s a comforting thought. But don’t tell Pepper that’s how it went down.” And with one finger he put some sap on the cut that had been left on his cheek from back in the fight.

Barnes was watching the whole exchange with an amused half-grin. “You two remind me of… my parents,” he amended, before whatever he’d actually wanted to say could slip out.

Nothing happened. There was no itching, no swelling and no tingling, just the slightest burn that he would have expected from putting anything on a cut. Tony shrugged and Rhodey rolled his eyes at him. They left Rhodey to decide how to deal with the plants they wanted to take then. He didn’t dare touch the plants before he’d put on some protective gloves.

“It can’t bring back the dead, can it?” Barnes asked.

Tony shuddered at the thought. “I don’t think I want to test that theory. Although I understand the impulse.”

“There were bigger plants here,” Rhodey said, as he went over the patch of green and inspected the earth. “This one must have been really big. Perhaps like giant hogweed, blocking the light for the others. You do realize that some of the giant plants in this family got their Latin name after Hercules.”

“That’s a recent thing though, isn’t it? Coincidence?”

Rhodey shrugged. “I’d say.”

“Poetic,” Tony concluded, before he got up. “Get a sample. We’ll get rid of the rest.”

“That sounds like you have a plan.”

“Oh, I have a plan, Rhodey,” he said. “It involves exactly one easily destroyed sample.”

Tony kept walking through the temple, committing all of it to memory. He still had no real grasp of what Erskine had managed to take from here, had no real idea how the plant worked or if in fact it did. Not all legends were true, but from his short interaction with Erskine and Rogers he was sure that Erskine had found something that could be dangerous. It had just been communicated in the wry way he talked about all sides being afflicted by a craving for super-soldiers. Whatever he had found, it had not made him happy, or at least it had made him wary about what it could be used for.

The thought that they would have to seal this place, destroy it, struck him as he came to a halt in front of the fountain. He hated this part. The loss that went with it. He’d seen a few places like this destroyed and there were more than a few archaeologists out there who blamed him for their destruction, but he always tried to preserve what he could. And nobody who had been there could claim what happened with the orichcalum had been his fault. But that didn’t matter, because no scholar believed he’d actually found a lost temple at the bottom of the Bermuda triangle, so that one at least wasn’t laid at his door.

“Will we really have to destroy this place?” Barnes was following him around, looking as devastated by the prospect as he was feeling. It was remarkable, for someone who just days ago had shown no interest for this kind of exploration. “We could torch the plants.”

“No telling what seeds would be left in the ground.”

“Yeah, better to seal this whole place down.”

“It seems excessive. We haven’t even seen what the herb is supposed to do.”

“We don’t,” Tony admitted, grudgingly. Part of him still wanted to believe that Erskine had been so carried away by his own hopes for an all cure that he had been fantasizing half of this. But he’d seen some of the man’s earlier research and breakthroughs. He was not just someone who followed his own fancy. “But let’s all just be very clear here. We know Fury wants the super-soldier as much as anybody else, but we can’t take the risk. Too much can go wrong and we already decided that we’re not going to let Hydra have this.”

“I’m not protesting,” Barnes declared. “But it’s sad. Isn’t there anything we can rescue?”

“We really shouldn’t waste time,” Rhodey said. He knew that Tony was just too susceptible when it came to these kinds of things. The decent thing to do was to make sure some of it survived, but Rhodey was right. There simply wasn't time.

But Tony’s eyes had gone to the stone plate with the carvings. Perhaps they could carry that one out? Perhaps the fountain? But with the three of them they would really be losing time. Barnes had seen his contemplative frown though and said: “While your man is busy with the stuff, let’s take that one out at least.”

“Treasure hunting, Barnes?”

“Bucky,” the sergeant corrected. “You seem to inspire a taste for it in people.”

“I don’t think we’ll easily get it out of here. We can try to bring it up the stairs, but we’ll never get it out of the hole we came through.”

“And,” Rhodey reminded them once more, “the place upstairs might be crawling with Germans. So whatever we do, we should do it now.”

“I fear your friend is right,” Barnes agreed and sighed dramatically. “It’s a real shame.”

“Yes, it is.” One day, when the war was over, he’d come back and look for all the bits and pieces of beauty he’d destroyed here. It was the least he could do. Tony had still not entirely given up on the idea of just covering everything up and leaving it, but he knew it was a stupid idea. As a scientist he trusted Erskine enough that he knew this was a discovery that could not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. This was an ingredient to the super-soldier serum that both the Nazis and Allied Forces were longing for right here. And if it grew here then someone in some lab could make it work too.

Barnes was the first to crawl out of the darkness of the cave to scout the area and make sure they were still alone out here. He took the radio to check in with Natasha and Peggy while Tony stayed behind to set up everything for the explosion.

Rhodey held the lamp for him as he rummaged through the weapons and grenades they were carrying and decided how best to go about leaving nothing behind. Making things explode around him usually felt better. “Would have been faster if we brought the suit.”

“You can cook something up from the explosives we have, I’m sure.” Rhodey looked at his face with a frown. “How deep was the cut on your face?”

“Why?” he asked, while he lined up two grenades for dismantling and decided which of the explosive to place on the stairs.

“I don’t know,” Rhodey admitted. “In this light it looks like it’s… going faint.”

Tony stared at him for a moment then reached up to feel for the cut. It was still there, but he could barely feel it. It hadn’t been deep, but it only happened a day ago and now it felt smoother than it should. Or perhaps their nerves were just running haywire. And he wanted the cure. After all these years of trying to save his own sorry life, he wanted it. “You have the plant?”

“We really shouldn’t take it.”

“No, we shouldn’t. But we will take one. And we are going to use it well.”

When Tony had set everything up, Barnes appeared outside the cavern and whispered. “Whatever you are doing, hurry up. A few cars just rolled into Glanum. They look like standard SS, but they are all wearing the skull on their uniforms. Natasha says they are safe. We should hurry. The girls think it might be better for them to ask the resistance cell in the city for help.”

“Damn it,” Tony cursed. “The moment we’ll make noise they’ll know where we are.”

“What do we do now?” Barnes helped him out of the cavern and watched as he brushed some dirt off his knees.

“Let’s be quick about. When this blows up we need to be as far away as possible. Tell me this time they did not bring dogs.”

“I didn’t see any, but I didn’t dare go very close. I just saw the cars arrive from between the trees.”

Tony had to do some quick thinking and then decided that the best would be to line the explosives up and then throw one grenade in while they made a run for it. He hated plans that relied on too many variables, but they needed to hurry.

He threw the grenade and they were off running through the trees, hollow explosion sounding behind them, before the ground started shaking.

Glanum was far enough away and they couldn’t hear voices or the cars, just the dull sound of exploding grenades and flying rock. It sounded like a bomb had dropped. All that Tony was thinking as his heart started to beat faster in his chest, running on borrowed time and orichcalum, was that he’d just destroyed the holy grail of medicine, the true mystery he had been searching for nearly all his life.

Someone would have to make it up to the world.

They arrived back at their camp without any trouble. Natasha appeared from behind a tree stopping Barnes with a rifle held at the ready and grinned. “You make too much noise, gentlemen.”

“Are you alright?” Barnes was at her side in an instant and her smile turned even more brilliant when she noticed.

“I should be asking you, James,” she said.

Tony had not paid attention before, but they really looked good together, even dirty as all of themw were, and they were truly starting to care for each other. He had been wondering about Natasha, but he knew that look. It made him turn his eyes away. Only days ago Jarvis had implored him to find someone nice and settle down with them in New York. And here he was now watching a former casual lover fall in love — or whatever it was spies called it, when it happened — and his only hint of romance had been snuffed out before he’d even properly met the guy. He was going to blame the morose thoughts on what he’d just done.

Destruction seemed to be what he did too often.

“How is Carter?”

“She relocated. And we should too. I was just waiting for you guys to take the armors and go.”

It was tempting to think they could just hide for a few days, but the truth was they would not be safe as long as they stayed in the area and the more people they involved the more people would be put into danger. As Natasha told them all about Claude and the shack he had at the edge of the woods, Tony was already forming the next plan.

“Natasha?” he asked. “I think I have one final mission for you.”

She and Barnes had been talking in hushed tones, while Tony and Rhodey prepared the armors for take off, and now she pulled her eyes away from the handsome young sergeant and watched Tony earnestly. And when she finally met his own eyes, she suddenly turned serious. “Oh, tovarish, you really shouldn’t go rushing into things.”

“I wish people would stop telling me that. I’ve been waiting for years to set this right. I don’t see how that qualifies as rushing into things. I’m just done running away.”

Rhodey stopped his work on the Iron Man to also look at him. “We know that,” he said simply. “We just don’t like the way you seem to be rushing towards the end.”

“Oh.” He whirled around and stared Rhodey down. “I appreciate your concern and Pepper’s. But I’m not trying to be selfish, Rhodey, I’m trying to be the exact opposite. We can’t put this off. Too much is at stake. Good people died. A good man died, because we didn’t end this sooner. And hundreds, thousands more will die if we let them go on. It ends here and now. This is where I stop running and take down Hydra. It’s time.”

“I’m with Tony on that,” Barnes came to his defense. “We’ve done what we had to. They can’t get their hands on the miracle plant. Now it’s time to act before we lose our advantage.”

“I don’t think we have any advantage left,” Rhodey pointed out. He did not point out that this was too personal for both him and Barnes, that thirst for revenge was not a good groundwork for level headed plans, and Tony was grateful that he would not have to face this accusation. This time this really wasn’t about him being stubborn and selfish. This was something he owed a lot of people.

He was done being a coward.

“And that, Jim, is where you’re wrong,” Tony said and grinned. “In fact this is exactly where your knowledge of flora and fauna will come in handy. Just please trust me only this little bit longer.”

Chapter Text

He waited for the loud crash of the explosion down in the street taking out a truck and sending the soldiers running. Shouts were ringing out in the night and he used that exact moment to land with a loud clank on the roof of the chateau holding on with on hand. Down there Barnes was doing his work, while Rhodey, Natasha and Peggy, were causing trouble in the town. He could see the glow of fire far away, and knew that it had started.

It should be enough to keep troops stationed there from joining their Hydra comrades any time soon, giving them enough time to get their own parts of the plan into motion. He kept still for a moment longer, when Gia appeared on the scene, wearing a close fitting black and blue uniform that matched her grizzly jade mask. Despite the mask, despite everything, he couldn’t help thinking she was still a sight to behold, as she strode through the fire, ordering the men around and picking up her own gun. He’d loved her efficiency, her sense of adventure and her burning ambition — right until it had turned on him. He waited until the inner courtyard was clear before dropping down, easily knocking back the few men left there.

“Eisenmann!” a blonde soldier yelled and ran back towards the doors, calling out his warning to everyone in hearing range.

Tony didn’t much care.

They’d been expected.

Strucker and his division would be prepared.

Tony would have been disappointed if they weren’t.

He crashed right through the first door, activating the flamethrower as he went turning the long dark corridors into an inferno. Bullets made clicking sounds as they struck the armor and ricocheted back off. He had no idea where to go, had no outline of the chateau or it’s hidden facilities, but he remembered Pepper, strapped up in a dungeon. His first impulse was to do what he had done then and crash right down to the lowest levels and free whoever was there.

But that wasn’t actually the plan.

The plan was to make it look like that and get close to Zemo instead. Figuring out whether there was anyone left to safe was up to Natasha and her team consisting of Peggy, Rhodey and whoever of the locals would join in. Tony, was here for one task only, and that was to put an end to the madness of Baron Zemo once and for all and take out Strucker.

He didn’t stop to make a decision about how best to find Zemo or Strucker. Both of them were to eager for him to finally be at their mercy to not come to him. They all had their plans for each other and now it would all just come down to the right kind of double play to finally see who would win this game they’d been playing for too long.

Outside he could hear cries and shouting, then an explosion. Only half his mind could be worried for his allies, as soldiers aimed their machine guns and fired at him in the enclosed space of the corridor, bullets ricocheting away as they met armor. He needed to be careful, more careful than he usually was, because he’d spent the last few hours tripping the Iron Man of some of his more advanced technology. There was no guarantee that any of this would work out - and he had no intention of letting more of his inventions fall into the hands of someone like Strucker if this went actually downhill.

He fought back, by sending an energy blast right at the young men in green and black uniforms and then as they stumbled away he charged, pushing through them, leaving them flailing behind him as he ran. He took the first turn up the stairs that he found, and set fire to a whole room full of tech, before the next soldier even appeared on the stairs.

“It’s good to see you again so soon, Tony,” a familiar voice said behind him. “We’ve been expecting you.”

On the edge of the stairs beneath him Strucker was standing and looking at Tony with a smug smile and no hint of fear. Despite having expected as much Tony was surprised to see him show his superiority so outright. Hydra had more aces up their diverse green sleeves and Strucker thought it was good enough to make Iron Man less of a threat. By now he should have realized that Tony always had a few tricks left himself.

That he apparently didn’t would only play into Tony’s hands.

He fired one shot, sent a bolt of fire right after it. Strucker dived out of the way and Tony used the moment to slip out of the armor with a quick release of the hatches. He dived behind the armor and then activated the radio he’d crudely modified last night. Today he was going to throw some of Hydras own tech back at them. With a lurch the armor moved on its own, just as he was bidding it and Tony ran up the stairs and out of sight, before anyone would be aware of where he was going — or that indeed he was going anywhere. He heard loud shouting, most of it German. Strucker was the loudest voice: “I’ve had quite enough of this, Mr. Stark!”

Tony grinned as he ran. Nobody had seen him slip away. Of course he wasn’t going to have much time to get away, just enough to get a bit of his bearings, before the remote control would stop working. He’d put it together hastily from parts of the drones they’d gathered, but he was under no illusion that it would distract Strucker for long. He ignored most of the obvious hiding spots, most of the possible cells and labs that might be holding Erskine and went further up. The feet of guards were louder than his own on the stairs and it filled him with glee that they were helping him get away by following him. He slipped into a door that look appropriately unimportant and with a heaving sigh waited in the darkness, with his back against the door. Men were running past. “Er ist nicht hier!” someone shouted from below.

They were searching the other floors first, and Tony was just buying time, not actually hoping to stay away from them indefinitely. He wouldn’t have come here at all if he’d wanted that.

In the back of the room a generator was powering a big machine. It looked like a big black cocoon, humming softly in the darkness with electrical power. Tony stepped closer to take a look, asking himself what exactly they’d cooked up that needed this amount of juice. When he finally stood before it and got a good look, he gasped and stumbled a step back in shock. It was a big metal sarcophagus with different controls on each side and it was holding  a man. When he climbed up on step to the controls he could see the face beneath a window of glass, pale and blue and frozen. He nearly gasped at the realization that this was the man who had kissed him during a fight not so long ago, held in some sort of man sized ice box, dead and frozen. Why had they kept him here? They weren’t using the man’s corpse for another sick experiment? But something about the body was off. The face was the same, dead and frozen and hard to make out through the sheen of ice covering the glass, but something was different. It wasn’t just the terrible realization that the expressive features happened to be lifeless and frozen, but he couldn’t tell what it was really. He looked at the controls and wasn’t sure he really should do anything, but just leaving Steve here in that icy coffin for any of these monsters to come back and use him as stock in an experiment seemed unbearable. He hit the lever to open part of the hatch and the glass part covering Steve’s upper body opened. The cold from inside was biting.

He didn’t even dare touch his face, holding himself back from it at the last moment, his hand already up and hovering over Steve’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” he whispered. “I would really like to have known you better. Nomad should have had a chance to come home.” Once again he was glad that Barnes — Bucky — wasn’t here to see this. The man was already blaming himself enough for all that had happened to his friend. “Just a matter of time now. I promise I will make them pay. For all of us.”

Outside the noises of scuffling feet were getting louder. It couldn’t be that hard to check all the rooms. And as Tony had only put up this much of a fight to make his capture look less suspicious, he wasn’t even going to bother with looking for another escape route. He reached for the hatch, slowly closing it, while giving Steve one last look. Just as the noises outside grew louder and then went suspiciously quiet he had the insane and irrational impression that the shiny blue of his eyes was peaking out beneath Steve’s mostly closed eyelids as if he was watching Tony. He stopped, leaning down to look past the now mostly closed hatch, for a moment sure, that there had been movement, a nearly imperceptible flickering of the eyelids. He didn’t close the hatch as he looked down at the controls. Apparently the machine was still in power, but the cooling systems had been shut down. The temperature inside the box was very slowly adjusting.

He had no idea what they had hoped to learn from Steve’s body, but he was glad that their holding him in the ice for later use would come to an end without him even having to do something.

When he looked back at Steve’s face, studying it intently for a final time, making sure he would remember this moment to tell people about how brave Nomad had died for all of them. “I’ll make it count,” he whispered again, aware that the silence outside the door did not mean anything good for him.

“It is time to come out, Mr. Stark. We know you’re in there.” He could easily identify the German accented English of Strucker’s right hand man.

“Don’t rush me, Johann,” he shouted back. “I’m saying goodbye to a friend.” He let the hatch fall closed, but didn’t bother to make sure that it shut completely. When he burned down the whole damn house and all the Hydra experiments along with it, he wanted Steve to not be left behind for any of them to recover.

The door was pushed open. Johann, holding a gun, and backed up by a handful of soldiers holding rifles, stepped through with a smirk. Only now could Tony see that he had a burn mark marring the left side of his face, haphazardly patched up.

“That looks painful,” he remarked, keeping the smirk from his face, but not his voice. “Good.”

It was easy to guess how he’d come by the wound and when. The question “Did I do this to you?” was on the tip of his tongue and he didn’t even really need to ask it to feel the satisfaction well up that came with the obvious answer.

Johann motioned with the gun towards the door. “You hoped to find Erskine. Instead you found what’s left of the little spy.”

Tony didn’t turn, his back now to the machine, but he looked over his shoulder giving it some consideration. He wasn’t here to find Erskine, of course, and he hadn’t had a hope of finding Nomad alive, but it was convenient to let this man draw his own conclusions.

“He was already half-dead when we picked him up. He wasn’t much of a man even before that. So no need to be overly sad about it.” He motioned again with his weapon and this time Tony stepped out into the hallway before him, hands at his sides and face neutral like he was taking a stroll.

“He was more of a man than any of you.”

“Ah,” Johann said with a vaguely interest expression. “I was under the impression the two of you had never met, before we threw you into that little cage together.”

“I knew enough about Nomad to know that he managed to play you all for fools for a long time. So don’t think your gloating impresses me in any way, Johann. I can call you Johann, right? We were never properly introduced I’m afraid and I never caught your last name.”

“Oh it’s fine,” he said magnanimously as he caught up with Tony and fell into step beside him like they were old friends. “Schmidt. My name is Johann Schmidt. But you can call me Johann, Tony. Because we’ll be very good friends from now on.”

“I’m sure,” Tony replied. He was led down the stairs to the floor below and when they entered the lab he didn’t even blink. Strucker was standing close to a window and beside him a soldier was holding Dr. Erskine by the arm, a pistol pointed at his head.

“Ah, Tony, there you are,” the German said amiably as he turned to look him over. “And looking good, too. We were worried you might have been injured during our last altercation.”

“How very touching.”

“Isn’t it?” Strucker asked. “We do protect our assets.”

There was no sign at all of Zemo and Tony was beginning to fear that he’d let himself be lured here by the rumors of Zemo’s whereabouts without any hard evidence for his being here. But Erskine was watching him, trying to catch his eye, so Tony focused on him. The man’s face was blank and stressed, but it was hard to tell if he was asking a question or warning him.

“He found your little friend in the upper rooms, Dr. Erskine. Apparently it distracted him enough to make this easy.”

Tony narrowed his eyes and Erskine also frowned a bit. “Steven is still safe?” the Doctor asked.

“You can check on the machine later. But you do realize we are not interested in the spy. We want the cure you are testing on him, nothing more.”

And this time when their gazes met, Tony understood suddenly. “He’s alive?” He just hoped the dropping temperature wouldn’t kill him if he was.

Erskine shrugged, just as Johann said: “More dead than alive from the beginning.”

“We are looking for a way to stabilize Zemo, Tony.” Strucker was looking him over with his kindest expression and it was simply unsettling. “We don’t want you to burn out too quickly. With your orichalcum heart, who knows how long we can keep you going. But we are missing something, isn’t that right, Dr. Erskine?”

He motioned for Tony to step up to him and look out the window. Tony had a feeling he knew what he was going to see, he just hoped they hadn’t badly miscalculated there. Bucky was kneeling in the courtyard and Gia and two soldiers had positioned themselves around him. Gia was looking up at them and on Strucker’s command raised her gun to point it at Barnes. The threat was clear.

“A new loyal aide?” Strucker asked. “We had hoped it would be the Negro or the illustrious Ms. Potts again. We do have unfinished business with both of them.”

Which was exactly why he had chosen not to bring them. “Good friend,” Tony answered. He caught Gia’s eyes across the courtyard, feeling all the disappointment and rage settle into an eerie calm now, as the pieces of what was going on here were falling into place in his mind. Steven Rogers wasn’t dead. Zemo was here. He and Bucky were in place. Now the rest was up to him and Erskine.

“Tell us where it is, Tony.”

“You know Gia used to be so fiercely independent. It was one of the things I loved the most about her. Stubborn to the last. It’s a bit sad to see her like this and realize she’s probably been nothing but a pawn from the beginning.”

“Not so much, Mr. Stark. She chose her own path with Hydra. And look how far she has come.”

Tony couldn’t see anything but a once beautiful, independent woman with a now ruined face serving her masters. “Yes, we’ve all come a long way,” he said lightly.

“Where is it, Mr. Stark?”

“Or what?”

“Or we shoot your friend,” Schmidt said matter-of-factly, no hesitation or remorse in the words.

“Ah,” Tony said. “How very original.”

“We also have the spy upstairs.”

The mention of Steve made Erskine stir where he stood: “You promised if I worked for you he would not be harmed.”

Strucker waved a hand around. “No need to become upset. Tony is a smart man. He knows there is no quick and smart way out of it this time.”

He stood stock still, watching the scene in the courtyard as if he was considering all the pieces of the mousetrap. Barnes was staring up at him, waiting. For someone who had a gun in his face, he looked exceptionally calm. Just like Tony he was waiting to make his move and Tony regretted that there was no good way to let him know now, that Steve was alive still. From what he’d seen he wasn’t exactly well, but Erskine was holding him on the threshold of death until he could be healed. He hoped they hadn’t given away his last chance at life with their little plan.

“So where is it?” Strucker repeated his question patiently.

“What if we destroyed it all? You must know by now that we…”

“You didn’t. You are too much the knowledge seeker, too much the child trying to cure his own ailing heart.”

He hated the reference to his heart problems. Part of him had wanted to get rid of the mechanical contraption that was keeping him going, but to think they thought at this stage he was really still only here for that. Strucker was no man of science. He was the general pushing on the soldiers. That was why they needed Zemo. Zemo was the one who organized Hydra’s true arsenal. It all made sense now.

“You’re right,” he admitted slowly. “But you have to give me something better than promises to keep him alive to get it. He’ll better be safe.”

Strucker laughed and even Schmidt looked pleased.

“That can be arranged.”

They chained him to a chair in the lab. His protests that he was to see Barnes before giving out this vital piece of information were swept aside. He wasn’t overly bothered at this point. James Barnes could keep himself safe; he’d proven as much. After jotting down the information he watched as Johann walked out with the knowledge of where to find the Silphion they’d hidden away.

Strucker lingered for a while, before patting Tony on the shoulder, his expression that of a satisfied cat who’d caught the prey. “Finally,” he said. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“Can’t say I have,” Tony muttered.

Then Strucker motioned to Erskine. “Get everything ready. It is time. The cure and the serum. And know we will test it on your friends, so you better not try and poison Schmidt when the time comes.”

“I want to check on the machine…” Before the doctor had even finished his plea, he was impatiently interrupted.

“I’m sorry. You can see to your all-cure pet project later. This is going to be a historical moment. Hydra will be stronger than ever.”

When he slipped out the door, leaving the two of them behind with two armed guards, Erskine finally sighed and looked at Tony. “Mr. Stark,” he said and his brow furrowed.

“Dr. Erskine.”

“You were supposed to…” he started and Tony interrupted him: “And we did. There’s nothing more to be said about that now.”

Erskine’s frown deepened.  

“Just do what they are asking of you. I understand. I’m not blaming you for trying to keep a friend safe.”

The man slowly nodded and Tony was glad. He had probably spent enough time with their spy friend to catch up on these kinds of cues. They were not going to discuss the Silphion in front of two armed Germans who were sure to listen in. Tony needed things to progress. This was what they had been counting on. Strucker would not pass up the opportunity to create an enhanced Zemo now that he had Tony here; a Zemo they could keep around for decades, pulling the strings of Hydra operations from behind the scenes whatever the outcome of this war.

He watched as the doctor started moving through the lab and kept an eye on their guards. Hopefully Bucky would be alright and able to get out of wherever they were holding him. Tony had given him a small explosive device that was small enough to be hidden in the heel of a shoe and hoped he’d get the chance to put it to good use. Now he only wished he could tell him about his friend Rogers.

Keeping his gaze on the Germans he asked: “So Nomad… He’s alive?”

Erskine also looked over at the guards, who were both staring at them, then back at Tony and nodded slowly.

“He was hurt pretty badly,” Tony added. He was carefully trying to figure out how much trouble it would be to get the soldier out of here when they staged their escape.

“He was,” Erskine agreed. “Even worse by the time they got to us.”

“I’m sorry.” Tony felt guilty for not keeping his promise of finding them again in time. He hated breaking promises. “But you kept him alive?”

The doctor threw a quick look over his shoulder at the guards and then back at his work and then he said casually: “I had a sample… of the enhanced… all-cure formula with me. The last one. I had given one to Steven before. It might be why he held on.”

Enhanced.

Tony nodded. “Why is he up there in the…?”

“Not my idea, I assure you. Zemo insisted on it. He built the machine. Strucker wants the cure and even more the serum that is still… in the experimental stages. If you had managed to destroy all the Silphion the traces in Steve’s blood would have been all that’s left. They don’t care if he survives the procedure. They only care for his body to remain in peak condition until they no longer need him.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. They had been so intent on getting rid of Nomad and then suddenly he had to be kept alive. Hydra. You could always count on their interests to take precedence. And it seemed Erskine had counted on that too. After being so very careful about the serum not falling into the wrong hands, it was unlikely that he’d had it on him when he and Steve had been put on that truck. But he’d shot up Steve with something and told Strucker and Zemo exactly what they wanted to hear - and exactly the one thing that would give them a reason to keep Steve alive.

“I’m not a doctor,” Tony said softly. “But putting someone on ice like that…”

“Zemo built the machine. From what I’ve seen Steven is still alive, but the stress of unfreezing him might still kill him.”

Out of the corner of his eye Tony saw one of the guards smirk. His hands were still chained behind his back and there was no way he could get up, but he swore that when he got lose the first thing he’d do would be to punch that one in the face.

This time when the door opened, he was feeling too angry to even care much for who was coming in there. But the moment Johann Schmidt stepped into the room again, he knew this had gone too fast. There was no way Rhodey and Natasha were coming for them yet — and as long as he was chained to a chair he would have a hard time getting away from the dreaded needle. He exchanged an uneasy look with Erskine, who must have picked up on it.

Schmidt walked purposefully to the doctor and then dropped a bag down on the desk. “Can you still use it?”

Tony knew the bag, of course. They had prepared it and left it behind in a no longer safe safe house. The one he himself had written down the address for on a small piece of paper in exchange for Bucky’s life. That much was going according to plan.

Erskine carefully put on gloves and extracted the stalks of plant from the bag and inspected them. Rhodey had been very careful with packing everything in paper to prevent immediate skin contact, but it seemed the doctor was a careful man and smart enough to follow some precautions in his work space. It wasn’t a given. Reverently he put the plants down and silently took stock.

Schmidt had turned his attention away and back to Tony, watching him as if he was waiting for a reaction. That was all good, because that meant the only one watching Erskine too closely when he realized what he was holding there was Tony. The doctor gave him a quick look and said to Schmidt: “They aren’t ruined.”

“Is it enough for the serum?”

“They were preserved with some knowledge. They haven’t dried up. It should be enough.”

“Get started then.” Schmidt didn’t even give Erskine another glance, also not looking at the plants too closely. They had counted on that.

Instead he walked over to where Tony was secured to his chair. “Soon,” he promised and then raised a gloved hand to touch Tony’s cheek. “You’ve avoided this for so long, but soon it’s going to be over. Strucker and your father led Hydra to greatness. And the two of us are going to hold up their legacy and surpass them. We will do great things together.”

“My father died when I was a child,” Tony shot back, trying to turn his head so that Schmidt was no longer touching him.

The man smirked, his eyes gleaming with the same kind of power hungry yearning that he’d seen in Strucker’s eyes so often. Not crazy, not sane, something close to the edge and dangerous. “It doesn’t matter how you lie to yourself, Tony. It won’t matter at all as soon as you’ve had your shot of the Zemo formula. You’ll come around whether you want to or not when the chemicals do their work. And with Erskine’s help it will be a much cleaner process.” He straightened to throw a threatening look at the doctor. “Won’t it doctor?”

“There is no telling,” the man said calmly.

Schmidt huffed and then patted Tony’s cheek. “We don’t really need his expertise for this. The Zemo formula is ready. The syringe has been waiting for you for some time. We had hoped to finish this the moment you set foot into France.” Then he chuckled. “We should have known you’d make things hard on yourself. It’s who you are. It’s part of why you will make an amazing asset.”

“Thanks,” Tony said lamely, feeling bile rise up his throat.

He really didn’t like the power hungry look in Schmidt’s eyes.

And he knew why the moment that he took a course bag from the hands of a helpful soldier who entered and put it over his head. Tony tried to struggle, but there wasn’t much he could do. “You can get used to it. No-one but me and Strucker will ever see you without it ever again when this is over.”

The darkness, the smell of the coarse material, it all was disorientating, designed to keep him off balance, designed to keep him focused on his fears and not think about escape.

He just hoped he’d manage to give Erskine enough to work with.

“Take him to his cell. Two of you stay with him at all times,” Schmidt ordered. Tony could tell he hadn’t moved away yet. Fabric rustled as he leaned closer and Tony could feel his closeness, his looming presence. “I’ll fondly remember who gave me the scar on my cheek. Because soon we’ll be the best of friends. And nobody will be able to stop us. The genius mind behind the mask and the German Hercules. The scar was you leaving your mark on me and the mask will be me leaving my mask on you. All very symbolic.” He laughed.

Tony would have liked to spit in his face, defying his words. But his heart had started to beat faster and the unease he’d been able to hold back until now, was suddenly holding him in a tight grip. He hated to rely on other people, even when the people in question were Rhodey and Natasha. But that had been the plan and there was nothing else to do now. He just need to get close to Zemo and then it would all end one way or another.

They let him lie on the floor of a cold room for hours. The only thing he could hear was his guards having a whispered conversation in German. Hydra henchmen and still as far as Tony could tell they were talking about their families back home like every other soldier. It was hard sometimes to understand why people followed evil causes and impossible to condemn everyone who followed a madman, but the only thing Tony really wanted to think about now, was how he would get out of this. The fact that Zemo hadn’t come anywhere near him yet worried him. surely, they wouldn’t shoot him up with the serum before he ever got close enough to take out all three of them. He was here to take out the heads of the Hydra in one go.

And where was Bucky? He hadn’t heard a single utterance about him since the tense moment when Gia had her gun to his head.

And where was the treacherous Dr. Nefaria herself? She hadn’t come by to gloat yet, and Tony expected her to.

Lying on his stomach with his hands bound behind his back was putting a strain on his shoulders and he could feel his body heat gradually seeping away. If nothing happened soon, he would have to act anyway, changing the plan before things could go further downhill.

He just hoped Erskine had understood what Tony had tried to tell him without saying it.

Finally, his arms were numb and he was trying to get some circulation back in his fingers by wiggling them around, the door was pushed open. “Es ist soweit. Bringt ihn rüber.”

Roughly and without much care he was pulled to his feet. He had no idea how long he’d even been here, having lost all sense of time. As he was pushed along corridors and back to the lab, he went through all the possible outcomes of the confrontation ahead, and most of them didn’t look good. The image of the needle that could take his life and warp it into something scary and twisted haunted him. At the very least it would be over now soon.

He was pushed on a chair again, the bag pulled away. The light in the room made him blink furiously and it wasn’t easy to focus. Strong hands were holding him in place, preventing him from moving away. And there was Bucky, hands bound onto his back in a similar fashion to his own and looking grim. They stared at each other for a and endless moment, taking in the little signs of strain or injury, but the other man looked mostly unharmed. That much was good.

The fact that they had decided to bring him here was not so much.

The plan had consisted of Barnes breaking free and getting to Erskine. Now they would have to improvise a little.

“Tony,” someone said, a voice he hadn’t heard in the last few days, and his head snapped up before he could stop himself. There in between Erskine, who looked nervous and stressed, and Strucker was the man he’d come all the way for.

“Zemo,” he said and his voice nearly stuck in his throat.

Opposite from him Barnes had moved his head to get a better look too. Tony knew he was assessing the situation, making himself ready. It was now or never.

With a sudden jolt of fear, Tony realized that Zemo was holding a syringe. It was easy to guess who it was meant for.

“It is good to see you,” the man said, and that sounded altogether too calm and collected to be the voice of the Zemo he’d met last when he’d rescued Pepper. Even the voice of his father had been crazed then. And he’d been led to believe that this man was dying.

How could he sound so much saner now? So much like the father he remembered. It knocked all breath from his lungs for just a moment, but that only fueled his hatred for this messed up thing that Hydra had created.

Schmidt was looking down at him and Stucker only grinned. Behind them two people in lab coats were positioning themselves. They hadn’t been stupid enough to let Erskine work without supervision, he supposed. The only one in the room he could count on was Barnes and apparently he was waiting for a cue. With some effort he forced himself to calm down. They weren’t really alone. Their friends were coming - and they were finally in a room with all three bastards they’d come to kill.

Then Zemo stepped forward. He was still holding the syringe with one hand and Tony braced himself. But instead of coming at him with it he started to open Tony’s shirt with surprisingly efficient movements and then leaned closer to look at the glass and metal embedded over his heart. “Ingenious,” he commented. “The orichalcum solved most of your problems?” he asked, still in that calm and eerie voice. But then he laughed, the laugh turning slightly crazed and Tony just wanted this all to be over.

He tried to catch Bucky’s eyes over Zemo’s shoulder, but became suddenly aware that the only allies he had in the room, were also staring at his chest. He hadn’t shared that little piece of information with them, about mechanical hearts and mythical metals and formerly dying adventurers.

“That won’t interfere with the formula?” Schmidt asked, leaning closer and it took Tony all his strength to keep still as he put a hand right over his heart, staring right at him and smiling.

“It is a mechanical device,” Zemo explained. “It won’t interfere. The orichalcum will keep his heart going through everything.” He leaned closer again. “Truly outstanding, Tony. Like your armor. I only had time to look at it in passing and despite the haphazard modifications you did in the last few days your genius shines through every part of it.”

Beyond the bile rising in his throat, he bit out: “I really do hate the notion that we’re familiar enough to be on first name terms. I am Mr. Stark to you. You are nothing to me.”

Zemo stiffened and Schmidt laughed. “He really hates losing. A trait we will put to good use.”

There was one good thing to everyone in the room staring at his heart. Nobody was paying much attention to his hands. He was going to be free any moment now. He’d spend years to perfect the ability to get out of these kinds of handcuffs. “I’m sure,” Tony said, scathingly.

“And it’s going to be so fitting. The old Zemo passing on to the new by passing on the formula, the father passing his legacy to his son.”

Tony gritted his teeth. He was sick of this.

Then Zemo put a hand on Tony’s shoulder and squeezed. It was familiar, a gesture he vaguely remembered from childhood. The gesture of a proud father who watched his son coming up with his own solution to problems, who always rewarded independence and bravery. “I prepared the formula and I helped Erskine prepare the serum. I propose we proceed as planned,” Zemo said in his calmer voice. “Test it on the soldier and proceed.”

“Should we really?” Strucker asked. “We don’t know anything about how it is really working. Should we risk turning a dog like him into something dangerous.”

They only spared Barnes a single glance before returning to their discussion. They were talking about testing the super-soldier formula on him, before it was used.

Bucky and Tony exchanged a look across the room. They needed to act, but Erskine was too far away and too many Hydra members were between them and him. If they proceeded as planned then Erskine would surely get hurt. With a slight nod and jerk of the arm, Bucky indicated that he had slipped the explosive device up his sleeve and was ready to use it.

Not at all keen on having the syringe that was supposed to seal his fate waved about in front of his face, Tony could only think it was time. But then Erskine, standing to the back, behind the other scientists and Hydra men, made a aborting motion, inconspicuously holding up a hand, asking him to wait. Tension was rising slowly and his muscles were flexing uncomfortably. His mind and body wanted to strike now, take these people with him down to hell if he had to. But they had given Erskine a sort of weapon too and now he was asking for time to use it first.

“Give that to me,” Zemo demanded. “It will need the whole dose to have a true effect?”

Erskine nodded meekly and carefully passed over one of the other syringes. The Zemo formula vanished back into a little metal case and into Zemo’s breast pocket, before he took it. “I’m dying anyway,” he proclaimed, before he stuck the needle in his own arm and gave a little push, not dispatching the whole serum, just a small dose.

“How long do we need to wait to be sure?” Strucker asked. “I would hate to find out that it will kill Johann a week down the line.”

“I’m willing to take the risk for greatness.” Schmidt looked like he couldn’t wait for it. The lust for superhuman strength and power turning his dark eyes into glittering depth filled with a hunger that would never be satisfied. “We do have the last syringe if anything goes wrong.” Then he looked over at Tony. “Let this be the symbolic beginning of a new era. The super-soldier and the new Zemo, created together, now in this room.”

Not long now. Barnes nodded to him when nobody was looking.

They were going to set the room on fire and make sure none of this got out.

He could feel his heart beating faster and just hoped nobody was paying too much attention to the glass in his chest and the frantically working muscle beneath.

“Sit down on the table”, Erskine instructed. He looked as pale and unhappy as Tony felt. Tony indicated for Erskine to do his job, but then move over towards Barnes. There was no telling if the doctor understood all he was trying to convey with a jerk of the head and there was no other way of communicating anything without giving it away, because Zemo and Strucker were taking their places beside his chair and watched as Johann Schmidt dropped his uniform jacket and his shirt.

“It will take a while to move around your system,” the doctor advised. “Then I expect it to be uncomfortable, as the changes take place.” He talked calmly, like a scientist dictating notes in the lab or teaching a class.

Bucky was ready to strike now, urgently trying to get Tony’s confirmation, but Erskine’s calm demeanor was putting some of Tony’s worst fears to rest. He watched as Schmidt, now bare chested, sat down to receive his shot. He had an athletic built, but the half-wrapped face was not lending itself to being attractive. The face Tony remembered had been moderately well proportioned, but not handsome like Bucky or himself. Not like Rhodey or Steve.

Tony had simply perceived him as unpleasant and that was what had stuck in his head.

It was like everyone in the room was holding their collective breath. The push of the needle was anti-climatic in comparison. Schmidt did not fall down dead, he did not suddenly jump up with muscles like Hercules. Nothing happened. But the man nearly growled: “I can feel it moving through my veins, like raw power.”

By now Tony’s hands were free and he was just holding on to the metal not to give himself away. All eyes were turning back to him and Erskine was slowly moving towards the window, closer to where Bucky was sitting. The Zemo formula was back in Zemo’s hand and two strong soldiers appeared to hold him by the shoulders, one grasping his head to make him hold still. He struggled, not yet showing his hand, intent on keeping the attention until Bucky had set the device.

In the same moment, Schmidt suddenly started wheezing, holding on to a table to not fall. Strucker looked suddenly suspicious: “Are you alright, Johann?”

The laughter wrenching itself from the man’s throat could only be described as horrible. “It’s coursing through me, the power, like acid.”

Zemo didn’t even look over, attention on Tony as he prepared the needle. “Hold him still,” he ordered and Tony nearly knocked the chair over as the thin metal came closer and closer to his left eye. But he was only waiting for Bucky, who stood finally, device in hand and before he could throw it, Tony kicked out, taking Zemo by surprise and knocking him back, his hands coming up to push the soldiers behind him away. It didn’t go over as easily with them. They had a good hold on him. The sudden commotion got worse when Erskine crashed into one of the men holding him and was thrown back, but having given Tony the opportunity he needed to extract himself. Bucky was at his side, grasping him by the arm. “We need to go now, Tony.”

And they barely made it out of the door, before the explosion threw them forward.

“We need to make sure,” Tony wheezed, his shirt still hanging around him half open.

“We will,” Bucky promised. “We need guns.”

One of the soldiers stumbled out, blood was running down his face and he pointed a gun. Tony wasn’t sure if he was going for Bucky or Erskine, but he pushed the doctor down, acting purely on instinct. Acting with the same battle honed instincts Bucky threw himself forward, knocking down the burly, but still shaken man. The pistol fell from his hand as he fell, and Tony scrambled forward to get to it first. Meanwhile Bucky had managed to knock the soldier against a wall hard enough to knock the breath out of him and with one well aimed right hook he sent him to the floor.

Footsteps were sounding down the hall and men were coming up the stairs.

“We need to get to the armor,” Tony muttered. “Now. Where would they have put it?”

Erskine looked at him helplessly, staring at the unconscious soldier as if he hadn’t even heard the question. Then he shook himself. “We need to get to…”

A shot rang out grazing Erskine’s cheek and hitting the wall right beside his head where he was cowering on the floor. Zemo was standing inside the door, his uniform singed and the bag that made his mask blackened and burned in places. The hand holding the gun was shaking badly. And then the laughter started up. It made the hair stand up on the back of Tony’s neck. It was as crazy as the laughter he’d heard that first time they’d met in a dungeon, when he’d learned that it was Howard Stark under the mask.

Behind him Tony could glimpse bits of the charred room, shards of glass lying everywhere, a body lying Zemo’s feet, flames still flickering and spreading..

Tony held up the soldier’s gun, not sure if threatening Zemo would even get him anywhere. But he wasn’t here just to threaten anyway.

The laughter didn’t stop, but no more shots rang out.

They were just aiming and staring at each other, as if they were frozen in the moment — father and son, about to kill each other. Then Zemo pulled what was left of the mask away. Howard’s hair had greyed and he still wore the mustache. it hurt looking at him, the aging, tired face, and seeing an old man with crazy eyes, who had much of his own features. “I’m sorry, dad,” he said and was finally ready to pull the trigger.

“Tony!” Barnes had time to shout, pulling Erskine with him into a nearby doorway to be out of the line of fire as Gialetta Nefaria came running up the stairs and shot at him. He twisted out of the way, but not fast enough, the gun fell out of his hand as the searing pain spread through his shoulder.

He’d missed his chance.

There was also no good place to take cover. Working purely on adrenaline now he pushed himself forward, tackled Zemo to the ground right into the room they’d escaped from. Strucker was lying on the floor, eyes closed and bleeding. Zemo was still laughing and Tony wanted him to stop, but he wasn’t sure he had it in himself to strangle the man who had his father’s face with just one hand.

“I knew this was stupidity,” Gia ground out between her teeth, soldiers were taking position around her, without her having to speak as much as a syllable. “I knew you’d never allow this to happen. You are a stubborn, selfish child and you destroy everything you touch.”

He rolled himself to the side to get a better look at her, sure that she was going to shoot him if he made any move towards her. “Look at you, darling. From brilliant archeologist to military leader complete with warrior mask. How things change, huh?”

Her features were hidden behind the jade stone that had been fused to her face permanently, but her eyes were full of hatred and he could read that well enough.

“Your friends will come too late Tony. My men intercepted them on the way here. And now you are going to be a brave little boy and take your medicine - or the next bullet will go to your brilliant brain, darling.”

“So much pent up anger,” he replied calmly. “It’s like you’re not happy with your own choices.”

“Enough,” she roared. “This is all your fault. You are going to be Zemo, or we have no further use for you.”

“How flattering.”

Baron Zemo sat up, he was still chuckling like an amused kid at the fair and his blue eyes that mirrored Tony’s own were wide as he stared at Tony’s face. “Tony,” he said, between giggles. “Tony Stark. Anthony Edward Stark.”

Was this what would happen to him now? There was no way that Bucky would get him out of here, no way to get to the armor, and if their backup was busy then this was it. He’d failed. Rhodey and a bullet with his name on it were all he had to look forward to when he’d been injected.

Someone groaned loudly and a few meters away, in the middle of the worst rubble, and close to the fire, someone was pulling himself up. It was a grizzly sight now to look at Schmidt. The patched up cheak wasn’t even visible anymore. Half his face was burned so badly, that it looked like a skull. Tony couldn’t look at him directly, the image burning itself into his mind’s eye with all the grim reality of the men he had wanted dead still being alive even now.

“You don’t look so good, sir,” Gia said scathingly. “One of my men, will…”

“Oh no,” he rasped out, as he had finally pulled himself into a mostly standing position. “You are not in charge here, my dear, but you’ve proven your worth. We are going to finish this now. He has caused so much trouble, it’s going to be an even bigger satisfaction to have him sing our tune.”

Tony tried to get his feet under himself, but Gialetta was not letting him out of her sight. He calculated the chances of being shot by her if he made the wrong move. It might be the preferable outcome for him to die before they could get to him. But on her sign he was seized and held down on the floor and Schmidt, who could barely stand was the one who took the Zemo formula filled syringe from what was left of their current Baron. For someone so badly burned, his hands were incredibly steady. “I found the other syringe. The one your dear father tested, Tony. I suppose that was the real thing and not the tainted serum the doctor shot me up with. Had you planned your friend to get that? Did you plan for the one he gave me to kill me?”

He hadn’t, of course. He had hoped they would get their hands on the hemlock and poison themselves in some way, or that Erskine would try something like this, but it had only been meant as a distraction. “I think it was the all-cure, actually,” Tony said. “Although you would have to ask the doctor to be sure.” Johann was so close now that Tony was forced to look at him. His face, what was left of his unburned skin, had taken on an unhealthy red color. It was an awful sight. And now he was close enough that Tony could smell him, the singed skin, the drying blood. He was getting nauseous.

Finally someone grasped his head by the hair and forced him into stillness. He knew the Zemo formula wouldn’t turn him into a zombie right away, just start the process. It had taken his father weeks, close to month to completely descent into madness. And he swore to himself to make good use of his final days of clarity before he’d go under. His father — Zemo — was laughing again, for the first time sounding more desperate than crazy.

Shouts rang out in the hallway.

Tony had the split second thought that Barnes was trying to get to him in vain. “Bucky, run!” he shouted, desperate for him to get out of here and tell their friends what had happened, that Tony needed a different kind of saving now.

But then everything moved so fast that it was hard to process what was going on. One of the soldiers grasped him tighter, jarring his shoulder wound and he cried out, wrenching his head away, probably losing a bunch of hair in the process. Gialetta shouted out, shots rang in his ears and people were running and when he had his eyes open, Schmidt was knocked over by a heavy metal thing that looked like one of the buckler shields he’d seen lining one of the hallways upstairs. The next thing he knew he was pushed away and a table fell in front of him like a barrier and someone was shielding him with his body.

What he saw when he looked up at the person, hunched over him in a protective fashion, an arm braced on either side of Tony’s head, could only mean he’d fallen unconscious and was about to die. “Steve?”

“Hi,” the man above him said, smiling. His face was still pale, his lips dry and cracked, but he looked good. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

It took Tony’s suddenly sluggish brain much too long to catch up with what was going on. Shots were fired around them, the smell of burning wood, smoke in his eyes and a man he’d last seen frozen solid above him — and looking good but all wrong. “You look strange,” he said, not at his most coherent with his shoulder throbbing. “I might have hit my head or something. You can’t be here.”

Steve who had been peeking over their makeshift cover, laughed and then grinned down at him. His eyes were an amazing clear blue and this time there was no blood on his lips, the crooked line of his mouth was screaming to be kissed. Then Tony realized what a picture he must be making, his shirt still open, exposing his fragile heart, blood pouring down his arm. A proper damsel in distress. And Steve had even brought a shield to the fight like a proper knight. “I’ve come to save you, Mr. Stark,” he declared.

“I was supposed to find you!” It came out much more defensive than he was feeling, much too awed at the man returning from the dead — or from the ice or the dead or... whatever. It couldn't be real.

“And you did. Twice.”

Tony blinked, trying to make sense of that. “I have fallen through the looking glass haven’t I?”

But for the second time in the heat of battle, he was shut up by a kiss, this one less desperate, firm and sure. “I was sleeping or something and it was so cold. And then I heard your voice. I think you said you wanted me to come home. I think I saw your face. And then I woke up.” Steve rushed out the words like he was making an embarrassing confession.

The smoke was getting thicker around them and there was no pause in the gunfire. “The desk won’t hold much longer,” Tony pointed out, unable to tear his eyes away from Steve. He remembered the man from the truck, from the moment on the battlefield and the proportions were all wrong suddenly, the shoulders broader, the height still the same, the charming smile and eyes, too, but the face filled out and different.

Erskine gave him the serum. He didn’t keep him alive with the cure, he actually had the stupid serum with him all along, the bastard.

The irritation wasn’t as deeply felt as the delight at finding that Nomad, against all odds, was here and fighting.

“I don’t know my own strength yet,” Steve whispered. “So better stay out of my way.”

“I still don’t take orders from captains, Captain Rogers.”

“I still think you should sometimes,” the man chided with a grin, before he pushed himself up and away from Tony, and just picked up the table as if it weighed nothing to bodily throw it at the advancing soldiers, forcing those behind them to fall back and leave the room.

It was getting unbearably hot in here, too. “Bucky and Erskine?”

“I told them to run, before you shouted out. Let’s just get out of here.”

“Window,” Tony suggested.

“Good idea.”

He was about to protest when Steve stepped over Strucker’s body, pushing Tony before him so that he was between him and the door.

“I know where your armor is.”

“Can we get there?”

“I hope so.”

Tony used what was left of a chair to smash in one of the windows. But one look outside showed there wouldn’t be an easy way down for them and the way up would be even worse. Steve threw himself at the advancing soldiers and Tony could only stare in amazement. He was wearing clothes that he must have picked up somewhere after freeing himself from the machine The shirt was already ripped because it was too small for his shoulders now, and he made an interesting picture, as he moved with instinctive elegance and unfitting clothes through the fight.

Not satisfied with just standing around, he finally picked up Strucker’s gun and fired at the first soldier he could get a clear shot at. Steve was using the table again like an oversized shield and pushed their enemies completely out of the room finally. “Only exit,” he ground out. “Come on. I don’t want to wait till we suffocate or burn. I’ve had quite enough of extreme temperatures for today.”

Tony followed, amazed at Steve for the way he was finally pushing into the hallway, and picking up a machinegun where it had fallen to keep their assailants back. Tony followed slowly, making sure that the fire would take the whole lab. He hoped the chemicals stored here would be enough to destroy it completely.

“Run,” he shouted and bounded out of the room at a run. Steve followed him, knocking one man out of his way as if it was nothing.

“Upstairs.”

Tony took the first stairs to his left. “Where did you send Bucky?”

“Down and out.”

“We need to blow this place to hell and back.”

“You won’t hear me complaining,” Steve shouted. Running seemed to not even make him break out a sweat. He had to drag Tony along when it became clear that the pain in his shoulder was slowing him down.

Their flight came to a sudden halt when they reached the upper floor, where Steve had been held in that freezing pod. Schmidt and Zemo were there already.

“So the treacherous doctor did create a super-soldier after all.” Schmidt looked Steve over with what might have been recognizable as disdain on a less ruined face. “To think he chose a worthless specimen like you.”

“He made the best choice,” Tony contradicted him.

“You know we can’t let you go, Tony,” Schmidt continued as if he hadn't heard. “If we can’t have you, then we will have to kill you.”

Steve was already moving to pull Tony out of the way, but this time it was Zemo himself who launched himself at Schmidt, trying to wrestle the gun away from him. A shot rang out, Zemo gasped, just as Steve managed to grab a hold of Schmidt, forcefully pulling him away from the door.

Tony had been planning to kill Zemo for so long that all of this was like a sudden gut-wrenching shock. He was at his side in an instant, not looking at Steve or Schmidt, just aware that Zemo — Howard Stark — had just saved his life. “I’m sorry,” the man rasped out and Tony crouched down beside him taking his hand. “I’m so sorry.” He coughed up blood.

An explosion ripped through the building, the stairs were shaking. Downstairs confusion had broken out. Behind him Schmidt screamed and a loud crash sounded, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from his father’s face.

“I was dying already,” he said, coughing again. “It’s better this way. Should have been dead, should never have lived through this.”

Tony could see that there was nothing he could do for him, wasn’t even sure that he should be trying.

“You’ve grown up to be a good man. thank Jarvis.. for me…” Howard said, wheezing out his last breath, his fingers tightening around Tony’s hand, then he grew still.

Stunned, he sat there. There was no room for grief, not when he’d come to kill Zemo in the first place. Perhaps he was feeling relief now. At least Howard Stark had died a Stark.

A hand touched his uninjured shoulder and he jerked in surprise, finding Steve back at his side and no sign of Schmidt in the hallway. “We need to go.”

He gathered himself up, the irrational thought lingering that he needed to bury his father in that empty grave back home and then dismissing it as his thoughts turned back to the task at hand. “The locals won’t thank us, perhaps, but we should torch this place to the ground. It’s always a good respone to anything tainted by Hydra.”

“Alright,” Steve agreed easily. “Best way to make sure all the tech and knowledge stored here will be gone.”

“Let’s make sure all notes Erskine may have left here are gone at least. Hydra will have their knowledge stored in more than one place, I fear. But I’ve become a very proficient arsonist over the course of this war and it would be a shame to pass up the chance to show off.”

Steve grinned. “I’d like to have a bit more time to watch Iron Man this time.”

Remembering Steve’s excitement at discovering Tony Stark was the Iron Man pilot brought another smile to his lips.

Yes, that was relief he was feeling.

A burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

He was ready move on to the next chapter now. Just like he’d promised Jarvis.

“But let me patch up your shoulder, before you go on an arsonist spree.” Steve’s voice was stern and Tony just knew that this would not be up for discussion.

“You really don’t get the part where I don’t take anyone’s orders, do you?”

“I get the part where you’ve been shot and are in need of medical attention, Mr. Stark.”

Tony huffed. “I feel it’s high time you start calling me Tony, Steve.”

“Alright,” he said. “Tony.” His eyes lingered on the open patch of skin where his shirt was still hanging open. He sounded unsure when he asked: “Can I ask about that?”

“I have a few questions for you, too. I promise you can have the whole story later.”

Steve suddenly smiled, some of the worry lines on his face smoothing out as he did so. “Later then.”

Iron Man made short work of the building and War Machine arrived to help before it was all done.

Natasha and Peggy Carter were safe. They’d staged a nightly attack on the Gestapo and had intercepted a transport of weapons that Peggy was now redistributing to the local resistance fighters. They couldn’t linger. More troops would arrive as soon as the blazing fire attracted attention. The French involved in the insurrection had already left, sure to be seized if they’d stayed.

There was no sign of Gia anywhere and Steve had been very short about what had happened to Schmidt. He’d thrown him down over the balustrade to the lower floor, but no body had been there when they looked.

Tony had the bad feeling that he’d only managed to take half the Hydra heads and that the organization would be back to haunt him, just like before. But even that could not lessen the relief he was feeling.

His father was finally allowed to rest.

Steve and Bucky were standing a bit to the side while he told Rhodey what had happened; just two friends catching up, the first bright happy grin lighting up Bucky’s face that Tony had ever seen. They hugged, then Steve turned to them. “Ready to go?” Steve asked.

“Let’s leave this viper’s nest behind,” Tony agreed. “We’ve done our work.”

When he woke up, he was lying on a small chaise lounge. His shoulder was throbbing and painful, but the soft humming of machines comforted him instantly.

“Hello there,” Pepper said from the door. “Namor says if you take up his room one more minute he is going to feed you to the sharks.”

Tony groaned as he tried to sit up. “That sounds like Namor.” He didn’t even remember arriving at the coast, let alone taking up Namor’s room on his beloved submarine.

He was about to ask about that when Pepper sat down beside him and said: “They sedated you. You had a low running fever.”

“Infection?”

“Nothing serious. You had a rough few days.”

A joke was at the tip of his tongue, but suddenly Pepper’s arms were around him and he couldn’t do anything but return the embrace awkwardly with just one arm. “I’m sorry, Tony,” she said. “But I’m glad that you’re back.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to tell you about this adventure yet. I… I think I want Jarvis to hear it first. After I sorted through it all in my head.”

She smiled. “I understand.”

He pulled himself up and followed her to the command center, where Namor was sitting in his captain’s chair, wearing his best unfriendly expression. “You can be so glad that you pay well, Stark, or I would have just left you where I found you. There was no talk of bringing a whole tea party.”

“Well, I am glad I’m paying well then. If you get me to New York as soon as possible I’ll pay a bonus.”

Namor looked him over. “Tired of the European theater, finally?”

“I have some things to do on the home front.”

Keeping a clean house was something Namor understood. “I’ll take the bonus.” For Namor that might as well have been a “good to see you”, so Tony just grinned. And finally he could take a moment to look over the “tea party” that their ship’s captain had been complaining about. Barnes had fallen asleep on a bench his head in Natasha’s lap and she was absentmindedly stroking his hair, smiling softly, but lost in thought. Peggy was slumped in a chair opposite from Erskine who was also fast asleep, and Pepper joined her there now, offering her some biscuits she’d brought. Rhodey was standing with Steve in front of the big viewing window, watching the dark depth of the ocean gliding by. Tony walked over, nodding at Namor’s men, some of them covertly saluting him or grinning. They were all old friends and many of them had families all over Europe.

Rhodey excused himself to join Pepper, making her get up so that they could share a chair. They hugged and kissed and Tony was incredibly glad that he had these perfect friends in his life and that neither of them had yet fallen prey to the tragedies that seemed to follow him around. When Steve saw him coming he grinned. “This ship is amazing. I never knew it was this amazing. The stories always say it’s this run down schooner.”

“I owed Namor a new submarine one last year. A perfectly run down fishing boat exists as a front.”

“Ah, more trade secrets.”

“You should know about that, Nomad.”

Steve chuckled. “Yes, I know a few things about secrets. Still can’t believe I’m actually here with Tony Stark.

“You better believe it, Captain. It’s hard to believe for me that we found the sneaky spy Nomad alive in the end.” He couldn’t help looking him over again, taking in all the changes, the new muscle. Still the same man underneath it all though. “You look good,” he told him.

“I feel strange,” Steve admitted, opening his palms and looking at them. “Like this isn’t really my body.”

“You haven’t changed that much.”

“Really?” Steve asked, a note of disbelief sounding through. “I barely recognize myself in the mirror.”

“Same eyes, same smile,” Tony said and grinned lopsidedly. “Same brave soul within.”

Steve huffed. Then he peeked at Tony unsure. “Are… I mean. Do you really think I… ehm… look good?”

He wanted to laugh, but he could see his own soft expression reflected back at him in the glass of the viewing window. “Yes, Steve. But I admit I’ll miss little brave Nomad a bit. He took my breath away. I was routing for the little guy, quite sassy and charming.”

The surprised look and the slight blush was even sweeter. “Oh,” Steve said. “And I was worried that I had… You know when I…” he looked cautiously at the people sitting a few feet away from them and lowered his voice, “kissed you, I thought what the hell, I’m going to die anyway, so no harm in being a bit forward.”

“There was no harm in it at all,” Tony promised in an equally lowered voice.

Steve smiled and Tony reached out to squeeze his hand slightly just for a brief second. Then they stood together looking out into the darkness.

From a Marvels perspective he had always known that all good stories came with at least a hint of romance. But here and now for the first time he thought of what Jarvis had told him about finding someone to settle down with. He was sure the old man would like Steve very much.

“You do realize I can’t go home yet.” Steve still stared into the distance and Tony could only see his profile and his reflection. But his mouth was set into that thin stubborn line and whatever he was seeing it wasn’t the ocean. “We are not finished yet.”

“I understand, Steve,” he said and it filled him with sadness how well he did understand. “You are a brave soldier and there is still a war to fight.”

“And we only set back Hydra. We did not wipe them out and I can’t let that stand. Not after all this.” The set of his chin told Tony that Steve was going to make this his personal mission now. He couldn’t blame him. Couldn’t blame anyone. His own quest had ended with his father’s death, but Steve’s had only just begun. “Are you truly going home?”

“I made a promise to take make use of my more peaceful gifts for a while and use my mind for something other than making weapons and tools for war.”

Steve’s face didn’t change, but he nodded. “Home needs good people too.”

“Yes. But Fury knows where to find me when he needs me. So it’s not like I won’t be around anymore.”

“Good.” Steve looked away and Tony had a feeling he was trying to hide his expression or another blush. “I might need someone with the right arsonist experience.”

“We can arrange for Namor to rendezvous with a warship, so you can make your way back to Fury.”

The broad shoulders straightened and Steve nodded. “Sounds good.”

This time he reached out to squeeze Tony’s hand and then didn’t let go.

After all the trouble, saying goodbye to Natasha, Barnes and Peggy was hard. Fury made him sit through a whole hour of debriefing after they met up with the  Pericles V . Tony knew from the glint in his eye that Fury was not only glad to have Nomad back, and Erskine out of Hydra hands, but also that he had been the one to recruit the soldier who was now the only super-soldier they would ever have.

Tony understood, but it also made him sad. At least Fury knew he’d had a true hero under his command, before he’d been given more strength and endurance.

“It feels strange saying goodbye after finally finding you,” he admitted to Steve. “I feel like I spent the whole of this adventure hunting you like a mythical artifact.”

Awkwardly Steve shrugged. “You have no idea how much I do not want to say goodbye, Tony.” And then there was that endearing blush again. “I really wanted to get to know you, the real you, better. I feel I already know a lot, but not all the things that count.”

A hand was suddenly pressed over the glass and metal that protected his heart and Tony didn’t pull away, startled by how much he trusted Steve already. “Not many people know these things, Steve. Perhaps one day when you come home…. I promised Bucky you could have a job. I saw some of the illustrations… Never mind. You’ll have other things to do now.”

It was lucky that they were in a deserted corridor, because this time Steve pressed him bodily against the wall, taking his mouth in a passionate kiss. There wasn’t even a hint of insecurity in the way Steve kissed him until he didn’t remember how to breathe; and then breathing became the last thing on his mind when he wa responding. He didn’t want it to stop, didn’t want to let go. And the way that Steve was holding on to him, pressing their bodies together, it seemed he really didn’t want to either.

When they finally stopped, Steve still didn’t pull away, hiding his face in the crook of Tony’s neck. “This is real, isn’t it? I’m not still trapped in that damn machine, dreaming all this.”

“Seems very real to me. And I know what I’m talking about. Reality and fiction, most people will never realize how crazy the real stuff can be.”

“This is goodbye then,” Steve whispered against his neck making no move to pull away at all.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, unwilling to push. He was still exhausted and the thought of anyone wanting to return back to the front right after living through all this seemed incomprehensible to him. But although he’d only had precious little time to get to know Steve Rogers, he felt like he had spent the whole adventure doing nothing more than uncovering the secrets of his character. And the man he’d gotten to know through secret codes and hidden messages, through the pictures his friends and superiors and even enemies had painted of him, there was nothing else he would expect from him. “Don’t get killed.”

“I’ll try. When this is over I’ll come and find you.”

The words were such a strange echo of their first parting and of their meeting that he had to smile. “I know you will.”

“Don’t go running off to New Zealand or South America before I get there.”

“I’ll try.”

And then at last and much too soon Steve pulled away. “I’ll write.”

Tony nodded. It wasn’t like they were a couple. It shouldn’t be so hard to let go before things got serious.

But it was.

“I’ll find you,” Steve promised again, before Tony slipped back to the submarine.

“I’ll be waiting.”

And at the very least they would be friends who had shared an adventure other’s could only dream about.

Chapter Text

The party was in full swing, when Tony quietly slipped away, a glass of champagne still in his hand. He’d only been sipping at it, itching to get back to work, and underwhelmed by the conversation. Pepper had taken it upon herself to host and he had never been more thankful to her. He was developing a new aeroplane and the project had managed to keep him busy over the last weeks. A party with people who wanted to talk about nothing but gossip and politics was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. Some things needed to be worked out while the ideas were fresh. It was good to be busy, it made it so much easier to ignore society gossip and all the quaint little complaints by the media. War had not left New York untouched. It was everywhere. In the way people talked, in the way news stories were run and in the way businesses had changed. And all the young men now returning from Europe were also having an effect on the face of New York.

Tony had hoped to forget all about war by throwing himself into his work. He still missed the sense of adventure he’d lived for before the world had changed, and he was already planning a new expedition to India, not just to rekindle his own passion for danger. It had simply been too long and he needed the change of scenery, but he was not the kind of laid back tourist. Without the sense of adventure he could stay right where he was.

But today they’d opened Stark Tower to the public, the new headquarter for a new Stark Industries right at the heart of New York City, a new symbol for a new world after the war.

Like Jarvis had said he’d found that he was needed here. The company, the only true legacy Howard Stark had left him with, needed him, and so did the country. Young men were coming home looking for jobs and opportunity, for better lives that would help them forget about the war. And Tony could help to build that better world, to keep people in jobs. After all these years he had discovered he was proud of his company, and proud of the things he could achieve here.

Taking the business seriously was a different adventure altogether, but most days it wasn’t boring at all.

He walked slowly over to his desk and grinned. Pepper had hung a new Marvels cover, the cover of Tony Stark and the Hidden Hercules: A Marvels War Book right at the center of his collection of covers. It was one of his favorites: Iron Man was carrying a perky looking, lanky soldier - not the epitome of the masculine ideal - while warplanes were whizzing over their heads. He had promised Bucky that Steve would get his own cover and after all that he had done as Nomad - before the serum had changed his life - Tony had been very insistent that this story should be about Steve Rogers (who they had renamed to Steven Grant in the story at Fury’s insistence) as he had been then, to show the world that you did not only need the usual big, strong men to win a war. You needed people with heart.

Like Nomad.

The story had been a popular one for the low selling war times, and was getting a  lot more attention now months and months later, because it had been the first fictional appearance of the true life war hero Captain America in the pages of Marvels.

Yes, it wasn’t just a favorite because of personal reasons, it had been a great success.

When he got closer to his desk he saw that Jarvis had left him some paperwork to go through. They were thinking of buying a failing plant in Jersey for a new venture and several contracts had to be signed off. And there was the research project they were doing on a new vaccine, the thought of founding the Maria Stark Foundation to help with medical research and healthcare in the future. All left him with lots to do, but after he had destroyed the miracle cure, funding more research was the least he could do for the world.

But paperwork hadn’t been all that had been deposited for him. There against his telephone was something else was leaning, intentionally propped up so he would notice it right away: A postcard.

He snatched it up.

Italy.

Still.

Ah.

Dear Tony,

There is still some cleaning up to do here. So many cities are in shambles and some of the worst imaginable people are trying to vanish into the masses. I hope to be out of here by the end of this summer. It will be so good to come home finally and, of course, to see you. Don’t get into trouble before I get there. (I mean it this time.)

Nomad

Steve’s handwriting hadn’t changed a bit.

Since parting ways on the Pericles V they had seen each other twice. Once on the front lines when a small section of Hydra division had thrown a whole arsenal of advanced weaponry at unprepared army camps and Iron Man had been urgently needed and once when they had both been sent to meet up with a collaborator in Warsaw. Neither occasion had left them much time to talk about anything but the missions. But it had been good not to lose touch, to see that Steve was still Steve even after spending month on the front lines, fighting, saving lives and hunting down what was left of Hydra.

It was really fitting that this was what had happened in the end. Leaving his champagne sitting on the desk, he walked to the little shelf in the corner where he kept all of Steve’s postcard in a wooden box. There were many small souvenirs from his travels lined up there. The box itself was from Mexico. there was room on the wall for something more. One day he go back and dig out the hidden Hercules temple. Not to find the Silphion, but to find that depiction of Hercules killing the Hydra again, because it was reminding him of Steve every time he thought of it.

“Time you get home, Steve,” he said with a sigh, letting his finger along the polished wood of the box. “I don’t want to run off to India all alone. I do so much better with a team.” Just last week he had been thinking that perhaps Janet Van Dyne and her fiance would make nice travel companions, but then he liked both of them too much to involve them in the kind of danger he usually got up to.

“I’m glad to hear it,” someone said and Tony nearly jumped and was startled by the lean figure leaning in his office doorway. “The door was ajar, sorry.”

“I always have an open door for you, Captain.”

Steve grinned. He was much more at home in his body these days, having put his strength and endurance to the test time and time again. It showed in the way he moved towards Tony now; controlled and sure of himself.

“I’m here for the grand opening of this amazing new building I heard about.”

“Gee, really? Nobody tells me about these things. It’s like I’ve been shut up in the office and workshop for months and people don’t talk to me anymore.”

“Want to go? I heard the host is this devilishly attractive rich guy who used to go on excotic adventures all the time, back in the day, before the war.”

“He sounds entertaining.”

Steve grinned. “He gets even better when you get to know him a little.”

“Is he that amazing?”

“I think he is.” Steve had gotten really close and Tony, used to seduction in all its forms, was surprised how light headed it made him feel. Then Steve tilted his head to the side and asked in a husky voice: “Why did you slip away from your own party? I had plans to officially introduce myself to you, all nice and proper, seeing as we have never met before, Mr. Stark.”

“I was missing the right company, I think.”

The playfulness in Steve’s tone when he answered: “You have to give me a chance then.”

“Oh, I will. Who could ever say no to Captain America?”

“I know someone who repeatedly insists he is not going to take order from a captain.”

“From anyone. He’s very consistent.”

“Ah, gee, you know the guy.”

“Better than some.”

Steve chuckled and finally some of the tension that they both hadn’t even realized had been hanging between them was falling away. Tony realized how this must look to Steve: The party, the media, the rich guy in his tower wearing an expensive tuxedo, surrounded by the rich and famous, sipping champagne and laughing at superficial conversation. He hadn’t been nervous, just not sure how much had changed in the time that had passed while he had been in the trenches, living the hard life of the soldiers and Tony had been here. So this time, Tony pulled him in for a soft and brief kiss, without urgency. He just wanted to reassure Steve. “Here to stay now?”

“No more Nomad for me,” Steve agreed. “Although I heard something about India there. I’m not saying no before I know what that is about.”

Tony chuckled, taking Steve by the arm and pulling him along. “We can talk about that later. Now you have to meet someone. Jarvis had been dying to meet you.”

As Steve let himself pulled away, Tony noticed his gaze lingering on the wall, and on that one central cover with a fond expression.

Perhaps Tony didn’t miss the old adventures so badly after all.

Together they’d find enough trouble to get into for sure.

“Bucky thinks I’m hung up on you,” Steve whispered when they walked down the hallway to the elevator.

“Is he still having a problem with that? I thought we were getting along fine.”

“Oh, he thinks you’re swell,” he said. “He just doesn’t know that we are…” He seemed to be looking for a word.

“Dating?” Tony suggested.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I was going to tell him, but it was never the right time. And I was not about to tell him that I’m not taking relationship advice from someone who dates a Russian spy and can’t sort it out.”

Tony chuckled.

He had a feeling danger was already finding its way back into his life all on its own, right alongside Steve.

And, damn, he wasn’t complaining. After all it was so much better to share the excitement. Suddenly the thought of spending the rest of his life like this without running away wasn’t that scary anymore.

“This is…” Steve started. “This is serious isn’t it?”

And Tony knew exactly what he meant. But he wasn’t sure he was ready to name it yet. Steve had only been home for less than five minutes. It was just so hard not to say anything when Steve looked at him with something between wonder and hope, as if after all the heroic deeds he’d done he still believed meeting Tony had been the best thing to ever happen to him. “No,” he said, his throat suddenly try. “It’s an adventure. And I fear you are stuck with me for as long as it’s going to last.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “That sounds like a promise.”

And it was. This would be their greatest adventure yet. He shrugged and grinned.

After all it was so much better to share the excitement.