Chapter 146: Thrilling Flight

At this moment, Crossbones Brock Rumlow—though serving under Chen Mo—had no idea that Chen Mo was, in fact, the supreme leader of their Hydra, the very deity revered by every Hydra member!

Hearing that the Special Operations Task Force was on scene, Tony Stark's stride faltered for a brief moment. After taking another measuring look at Brock Rumlow, he shook his head lightly and then began walking. Amid the clamor of mechanical sounds—"clang-clang"—he pushed his way between the two men and headed out of the cave.

Standing at the cave's mouth, Tony Stark observed that the terrorists outside had been virtually eliminated; only sporadic shots could be heard in the distance. Clearly, these terrorists were no match for the rescue force—they would soon all be wiped out.

Although he wasn't sure exactly how many armed personnel the terrorist base harbored, Tony recalled that he'd seen nearly a hundred before. And yet, so many heavily armed terrorists—equipped with the advanced weapons manufactured by Stark Industries—had been dispatched so swiftly by the rescuers.

"It looks like you committed a large force to save me—but alas, you're too late."

"Please, take Dr. Ethan out; I'll go ahead first."

All the terrorists had been wiped out by the rescue team, leaving the Iron Suit he'd painstakingly built with no battle to fight—a thought that left Tony feeling a bit resentful. Still, since they had rescued Dr. Ethan, Tony did feel a measure of gratitude. Naturally, given his proud nature—and considering he'd built the Iron Suit which granted him self-defense—he wasn't about to offer thanks easily to the two men who had just been pointing their guns at him.

With that, Tony Stark spoke and activated an external switch on his arm.

Immediately, two powerful jets of bright flame burst forth from beneath the Iron Suit's feet, propelling the heavy suit rapidly upward. It soared into the air and flew off into the distance.

"Oh, wow!!!"

Soaring high at breakneck speed in his Iron Suit, Tony couldn't help but cry out in excitement. The thrill of this high-speed flight was far more exhilarating than driving a sports car! Although he hadn't been able to join the battle and unleash the full combat prowess of his suit—leaving him with a lingering sense of missed opportunity—this nimble, high-speed flight capability still thrilled Tony Stark, reaffirming that his invention remained truly impressive.

At the cave's entrance, Phil Coulson and Brock Rumlow exchanged a helpless glance, silently exasperated by Tony Stark's unorthodox methods. Noticing the discontent on their faces, Ethan quickly interjected:

"There were over a hundred terrorists in this base—how many of you were deployed this time?"

At these words, Phil Coulson turned his gaze to Dr. Ethan.

"Three."

"Three? Three?" Ethan couldn't help but wonder if he'd misheard. He first looked at Phil Coulson, then at Brock Rumlow beside him. There were two of them—three minus two equals one. In other words, was there only one man out there?

Seeing both nod in agreement, it was clear he hadn't misheard. Dr. Ethan was stunned—could it be that the fierce gunfire he'd just heard outside was generated by a single man facing off against over a hundred terrorists? And not only that, but he'd emerged victorious?

Ethan admitted that his imagination was limited; he simply couldn't fathom what such a scene would look like. Even the Iron Suit Tony had built couldn't possibly enable one man to take down over a hundred fully armed terrorists all by himself.

In the film, Tony Stark had been suppressed by machine-gun fire—his leg drive tracks even severed—and it was only by relying on his flight function that he managed to escape the terrorists' base. As for those terrorists, most were killed by exploding munitions; many, however, survived, meaning they weren't completely wiped out.

Just when Ethan was still reeling, a tall, lean figure strode into the cave from outside.

He was clad in the same black combat uniform as Brock Rumlow, but the exposed parts of his head, neck, and hands were enveloped by a layer of jet-black steel armor—only a pair of sharp eyes peered out. Ethan also noticed that a segment of a silver sword hilt was visible at the back of his shoulder, and holsters were mounted on both sides of his thighs, each holding a black handgun.

"Commander!"

The two agents from Phil Coulson looked rather guilty when they saw Chen Mo entering.

"Tony Stark just left on his own."

After the trio had reached the vicinity of the valley, Chen Mo had already put battle plans into effect—he kept the numerous terrorists outside in check while the other two quickly burst into the cave where Tony Stark was held and rescued him.

Now, while Chen Mo had efficiently disposed of the terrorists outside, his comrades hadn't quite completed their own mission—they only managed to secure Dr. Ethan, who had also been held captive by the terrorists. Meanwhile, Tony Stark had flown away in the suit of Iron Armor he'd built himself.

"I see it," Chen Mo intoned in his deep, measured tone from beneath his steel mask.

"What do we do next?" Brock Rumlow inquired, looking toward Chen Mo.

Their rescue target, Tony Stark, had already left on his Iron Suit by his own means—rendering their rescue operation almost moot. Judging by the flight speed of that Iron Suit they'd just witnessed, it wouldn't be long before he reached the base; he'd likely get back even before they did.

"Call in two helicopters."

Chen Mo turned to Agent Phil Coulson and ordered.

Phil Coulson quickly contacted the base, and a few minutes later, two helicopters landed on an open area in the valley.

"Now, you two take him back to base. I'll go pick up Tony Stark."

After saying that, Chen Mo walked toward one of the helicopters.

"That idiot flew in the wrong direction."

...

Tony Stark, soaring freely in the sky in his Mark I Iron Suit, didn't notice that he was heading the wrong way. He was completely lost in the thrill of flight, unable to pull himself away from the exhilarating experience.

Until, after a few muffled rumblings, the thrusters beneath his suit suddenly shut down. With its power lost, the Iron Suit began to plummet rapidly toward the ground, and Tony Stark's initial excitement instantly turned to terror.

After all, the Mark I was nothing more than a makeshift contraption cobbled together with crude equipment and raw materials; its performance was unstable. A slightly prolonged flight would inevitably lead to thruster failure.

The Iron Suit, which had been barreling forward at high speed, suddenly lost its propulsion—like a stone tossed aside, it began an angled freefall into the desert below.

Amid Tony Stark's piercing, agonized screams, the Iron Suit hurtled down from the sky and crashed headlong into the desert. The tremendous impact caused the already fragile Iron Suit to instantly disintegrate. Parts and steel plates flew in every direction, and Tony Stark's lower body was even partially buried in the sand.

Fortunately, he wasn't very high off the ground when the thrusters failed, and the desert below helped cushion the impact. With the protection of the Iron Suit, Tony Stark, though looking utterly disheveled, miraculously emerged from the harrowing "crash" unscathed.

After a tremendous effort, Tony Stark finally managed to crawl out of the sand that had completely engulfed his lower body.

Lifting his head and surveying the horizon, he found himself surrounded by an endless desert. The rolling, undulating yellow dunes completely encircled him, and a deep sense of confusion and helplessness welled up inside him. For a moment, he didn't know what to do.

In the exhilaration of takeoff, he had been so completely immersed in the pleasure of flight that he hadn't paid any attention to his navigational direction. He didn't know where he was, nor in which direction Bagram Air Force Base lay; he couldn't even tell which way led back to the terrorists' base. The vast, boundless desert left him clueless about where to go.

But waiting around here was obviously not an option. In the end, he had no choice but to pick an arbitrary direction and set off, head down, on his journey to escape the desert.

The daytime temperature in the desert was extremely high. It wasn't long before Tony Stark's clothes were soaked with sweat—streams of perspiration ran down his cheeks and neck continuously. The severe dehydration brought on by all that sweating made him feel unbearably parched, and his lips began to look pale and cracked.

The sun overhead unleashed its powerful heat, the intense, glaring sunlight, and the sand beneath his feet was scalding hot. The air around him was scorching and dry. Under the blistering sun, Tony Stark felt as though his skin was about to be burned off, and his brain grew drowsy from the relentless heat, as if it were being roasted alive.

Even if he stripped off his shirt to cover his head and neck, it brought him no relief whatsoever—but his will to survive forced him to keep moving forward.

Fresh from his escape from the terrorists, he found himself lost in an endless desert. This place was even more dangerous than the terrorist base; with no food or fresh water, he knew he wouldn't last long in this brutally scorching environment.

Seeing that his own arrogance might soon be his undoing, Tony Stark was filled with regret. If only he had obediently stayed with the rescue team instead of recklessly trying to go it alone—he was practically signing his own death warrant.

In his groggy state, after what felt like an unending trek, Tony Stark could only feel his body growing weaker and his thirst intensifying. Waves of intense hunger roiled in his stomach, and his throat was so parched it seemed as if it might burst into flames.

The continuous journey left him utterly exhausted—with every step he took, it felt like all his remaining strength was being drained away. He was spent, on the very edge of what his body could endure.

Just when he seemed about to collapse, a low, rumbling roar emerged from the sky behind him. Soon enough, he saw a helicopter roaring in from the distance, flying right overhead.

In a desperate bid, Tony Stark began wildly waving his arms at the helicopter. For a brief moment, his spirits surged, but the strain proved too much; his knees gave way, and he collapsed onto the yellow sand.

Finally, rescue had arrived!

Not long after, the helicopter landed near Tony Stark. Out stepped a young man dressed in black combat gear—a tall figure with a stern, unyielding expression—who walked directly toward the kneeling Tony Stark.

Looking up at the young man, who extended a hand toward him, Tony Stark reached out and grabbed his long, powerful grasp. In that instant, a surge of strength pulled him up from the sand.

"Who are you?" Tony Stark asked weakly.

Chen Mo looked at Tony Stark—whose face, partly hidden by a cold metallic mask, showed a look of gratitude and, in some ways, a resemblance to Howard—and said in a steady tone,

"I am your father."