Whoops, is this my fault,... kind of?
Small note before you read this: Peter threatened me, saying that I either gave the chapter the title it currently has, or title it: The Biggest UNO Reverse in History. I opted for this one, it's slightly less mean towards me.
The next few days all blurred together. The man with whom I shared a cell, was named Ho Yinsen. We did not have a lot in common, except that we were kidnapped. Only difference: he had a family to return to once he was set free. Who had I to return to? An assistant that probably only stayed around because I paid her, a best friend who was more mad at me than happy to see me, and my father's old business partner, who always was a sad reminder of how much I was lacking of the late Howard Stark's image.
The thing that was imbedded into my chest turned out to be a magnetic chest plate. In surgery, not all the shrapnel had been removed, since the equipment was lacking. The magnetic plate stopped the shrapnel from burrowing itself deeper into my chest, and eventually my heart.
I was hooked up to a car battery all the time, and constantly working, working, working. They had told me to make a new model of Jericho for them. They had told me if I did that, they would let me go.
They let me go outside once, to get supplies from weapons they had bought. All of them had the Stark Industries logo on them. All of them had that logo that I was starting to hate. My weapons, in the hand of terrorists. My weapons, fuelling the wrong side of the war. My weapons. I had done this. This was my fault, or, as Yinsen put it:
'Look, what you just saw, that is your legacy Stark. Your life's work in the hands of those murderers. Is that how you want to go out? Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark? Or are you going to do something about it?'
'If we do anything,' I responded sombrely, 'They're going to kill me, you, either way, and if they don't I'll probably be dead in a week.'
'Well then, this is a very important week for you, isn't it? Mhh?' he answered. I knew he was right: he had informed me from the get-go that you only survive such shrapnel wounds for a week.
Ever faced the imminent and unavoidable death of yourself? Let me tell you: it's mind opening. No longer was I thinking about all the money I was earning selling those weapons. I was thinking of the people Yinsen had told me about. The people who had died from shrapnel, just like I was going to be soon. The people who had died from the shrapnel, that had exploded from weapons I had created. From weapons my company sold.
People had died. Many people had died. And, though indirectly, it was my fault. My very own. I could blame the terrorists, who had pulled the triggers. I could blame the pilots, who had dropped the bombs. But at the end of the day, the blame circled back to me: the guy who had made those murder machines in the first place.
So, I did what any smart person would do: I decided to save my own life. Shocker right? I used the weapons they had given me for materials and, within a few days, created an arc reactor. Not the Jericho missile I had promised them. Yinsen noted it, explaining what it was:
'It's a miniaturised arc reactor. I've got a big one powering my factory at home. It should keep the shrapnel out of my heart.'
'But what could it generate?'
'If my math is right, and it always is, 3 gigajoules per second.'
'That could run your heart for 50 lifetimes.'
'Yeah, or something bit for 15 minutes.'
You know, when in life you do cool stuff, and you just wish there was some cool background music playing? Well, I felt like there was when I showed Yinsen exactly how to escape. I had several pages that I stacked over each and held to the light, showing the first ever archetype for the Iron Man suit, or, as I fondly called it, "our ticket out of here".
Of course, our antics did not go unnoticed for long, and while we were having an awful conversation about how he was from Gulmera and had a family waiting for him, and how I had no one waiting for me, we were interrupted. Of course not before Yinsen could comment that I was a man who had everything, and nothing.
In life you build up walls you know. Walls that you think are impenetrable? Well, trust me: they are not. Like my ego and self-image hadn't taken a hit already when I viewed the destruction I had caused, it took an even bigger hit when he said that.
It really hit home, y'know: how I had no one waiting for me at home. No mom. No dad. No wife. No kids. No one. As Yinsen said: I had everything, and I had nothing. My life had been spent searching for riches and fame, and I hadn't even realised that I had been missing out on the most important thing in life: family.
At that moment in time, I only thought of family as blood-related people. Now that I finally have one, I know I couldn't have been further from the truth, but I'll leave that revelation for when I got it later on. No need to get ahead of ourselves, now is there?
Back to where I was: the rude but actually slightly welcome interruption. At least, it was welcome, until one of the terrorist who seemed to speak English, started monologueing to me about history. I may or may not have zoned out at that point: it was boring and history that is not mine has never really interested me much.
It went something like: 'Roman empire blah blah blah, Alexander the great blah blah blah Stark tech is cool and makes you the boss (not exactly his words, but he did say that whoever owns the latest Stark weapons rules) blah blah blah I am cool blah blah blah I will rule yadayadayada.' then, in whatever language he spoke that was not the civilised tongue of English: 'Zafadafahavka?' I think. Not sure okay, language barrier and all.
Yinsen replied in a rather stiff manner: he was afraid. I watched on in silence whilst the two conversed, until the terrorist commanded his men to push Yinsen down on his knees. He walked over to the fire, he pulled out a burning piece of coal with tongs. He asked Yinsen something, he responded. He fired a rapid question as men pushed yinsen's head down on an anvil.
'Apkau Jericho.' Yinsen said, his fear filtering in through his voice. The terrorist asked again. 'Apkau Jericho!' Yinsen answered louder, resilence and fear laced deeply in his voice. My heart rose to my throat as the burning piece of coal advanced towards Yinsen's face.
'Abibedau!' the man demanded again, moving the coal closer.
'Apkau Jericho!!'
'Abibedau!!!!'
'Apkau Jericho!!!' my heart rose into my throat: he was going to put the piece of coal to Yinsen's skin. I didn't know exactly what the two were talking about, but I knew it was about Jericho, I stepped forward:
'What do you want? A delivery date, I can...' I started, but stopped midstride as terrorists shouted for me to stop, all of their weapons coming up immediately, levelling themselves with my body. I raised my hand to stop them, to show them I wasn't planning anything. 'I need him.' I said after a very long uncomfortable silence. The main terrorist looked at me. 'Good assistant.' I added. The piece of coal, or was it metal? clanged down on the anvil, dropping a meager inch from Ho Yinsen's face. Internally, I could have yelled in relief, outwardly, I kept my mask on: not a single twitch in my face betrayed what I was thinking about. What I was scheming. What I was planning to do.
'You have until tomorrow, to assemble my misile.' main terrorist told me. My mask broke as a haunted look crossed my face. One day. One day only. Only I wouldn't use it to make the missile. I would use it to free Ho Yinsen, I would use it to free myself. I would use that day, to start my mission of setting aright what I had done wrong. I would use that day, to finally, for the first time in my life, do something good for somebody other than me.
I had learned my lesson, and now, it was time to do the homework.