Irondad and Spiderson

The Mission in Iran Part 4

"I don't know what to expect, kid, so you follow behind me." Tony cocks the gun and swings the door open. As he ducks his head in, he sees rows upon rows of purple liquids simmering in pots, bowls, and anything else that can contain liquid.

"There's no one in here." He whispers behind him, flipping on the lights, but not dropping the gun.

They weave through the rows, staring at each container of the virus. The first thing they do is to turn off the burners, watching as the bubbles on top of the liquid boil down to nothing. They stare at the drain in the middle of the floor, and nod at each other.

Peter's heart pounds in his chest as he dumps each container of the virus down the drain. He can't help but think that someone is going to walk through the door at any moment and put them right back in the cell. All it does is cause him to work faster, quickly pouring every drop down the drain.

"Is that the last of it?" Tony comes to Peter, wiping his hands on his pants. His shirt is soaked with something, either sweat or the liquid. Peter decides not to ask.

"I'm finished." He says, glancing longingly towards the door. "Now what?"

"We need to get out of here, before someone catches us." Tony gently pushes Peter towards the door. He holds the gun out in front of them, and they move back down the hallway.

As promised, after the last turn, the stairwell leading upwards greets them. They eagerly turn onto it, not paying attention to their surroundings. Peter's hairs raise on his arms and he turns around just as the man behind them fires the gun. The bullet strikes Peter's leg, grazing it and embedding itself in the wall behind him.

Peter crumbles to the ground, tasting a small amount of blood in his mouth. A scream mixed with a whimper slides through his mouth. Another gunshot rings through the air, but this is one is from Tony's gun. Then, silence. Tony kneels next to Peter, staring at the teen's face and gently touching his leg.

"Ah, ah." Peter winces as a new wave of pain passes through him from the touch. "Don't, gah, touch." Everything seems to be swimming, and his head pounds in sync with the pulsing in his leg.

"Kid, I know that it hurts, but do you think that you can go for ten more steps?" Tony says desperately. He keeps looking over his shoulder. Gosh, what's he going to do? He's in no position to carry the kid, and any other men within the hallways surely heard the gunshots and are on their tail right now. Peter lays there, his breathing ragged and his eyes shut tight.

Suddenly, the large metal door in front of them starts to shudder before being ripped off its hinges. Tony closes his eyes at the dust flying before opening them. In front of him is the best thing that he's ever seen in his entire life.

"Well, well." The man in front of Tony laughs. "If it isn't Tony Stark." He extends a hand, and Tony grins up at the tall man. "Took you long enough, Captain Stars-and-Stripes." Captain America rolls his eyes, but looks at Peter.

"What's with the kid?"

"His leg got shot." Tony says. "I can't carry him, is everyone else here?" Steve nods, and carefully picks up Peter. He cups his ear, and speaks. "Hey, Clint? You and Natasha need to come for ground support. We have an injured man down here, and I need backup." A voice speaks indistinguishably over the intercom and Steve nods, before leading Tony away.

They end up walking about a half mile before Tony needs to rest.

"You look like crap." Steve says, smiling as they sit on the ground. Tony takes in deep breaths, staring at Steve. "Hey, you wouldn't look much better after being stuck in a dungeon for... how many days were we gone?"