Iron Man Returns

"Was the attacker also with S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Pierce frowned.

"Based on our investigation, he should have no connection to S.H.I.E.L.D.," Sitwell replied.

"Do we have any leads on the Ghost File?" Pierce asked, his expression darkening and brightening by turns. "Whoever stole our property, find him for me. I'll make sure he learns what happens when he messes with Hydra!"

Sitwell slowly pulled a sheet of paper from his coat. It was a sketched portrait of a man with camouflage paint on his face, wearing a bulletproof vest and holding a standard M4 rifle.

"What's this supposed to mean?" Although Pierce was Hydra's big boss, middle age had left him a little farsighted. He put on his glasses, looked at the sketch, and asked in confusion, "Why is this a drawing? Don't you have a photo?"

"We didn't get a chance to take a photo or record any footage of him. We drew his portrait based on the surviving members of the task force," Sitwell explained.

"With this drawing, you'll find plenty of suspects," Pierce said suddenly, glancing at it.

Sitwell froze, unsure what Pierce meant by that.

Pierce's expression changed at once. He picked up a cup from the table and hurled it at Sitwell. "You idiot! This drawing is completely useless. Almost every soldier is dressed like that! Are you planning to investigate the entire military?"

"I'm sorry, sir." Sitwell couldn't dodge in time, and the cup left a lump on his bald head. Seeing Pierce's anger, he quickly apologized. "I'll do my best to investigate. As long as he's still in the United States, I'll find him!"

"Forget it. Don't look for him yet." Pierce was so angry he nearly fainted. Forcing down his fury, he said, "Nick Fury has probably noticed us by now. Otherwise, he wouldn't have sent Hawkeye to investigate the Skull Gang. From this day forward, no one acts without my orders. We'll wait for this storm to pass, then figure out what to do!"

Sitwell looked up and smiled. "I think Nick Fury probably takes us for some other international terrorist organization. He may suspect our real identity, but he'd never imagine Hydra is right under his nose."

"Better safe than sorry," Pierce said grimly. "We're not ready to openly break with S.H.I.E.L.D. yet!"

Tony Stark had been missing for three months. No one knew where he was—or whether he was even still alive.

Who could have imagined that this billionaire had been kidnapped by terrorists and imprisoned in a dark, sunless cave?

The Ten Rings had ambushed the convoy escorting him. The soldiers had been killed, and Tony had hurriedly fled the vehicle. He quickly pulled out his phone to call for help, but just then a missile came plunging down from the sky. The missile bore the Stark Industries logo.

And that was how Tony ended up in a terrible predicament.

When he woke from his nightmare, he discovered a gaping hole in his chest, with something strange inside it.

The missile's explosion hadn't killed him outright. Tiny shrapnel was moving through his bloodstream, liable to reach his heart at any moment. The doctor who saved him used an electromagnet powered by a car battery to draw in the shrapnel and keep him alive.

The Ten Rings had kidnapped Tony for a simple reason: they wanted him to build the Jericho Missile. Once he succeeded, they would let him go.

Honestly, Tony wanted nothing to do with it. He might have been a playboy and an arrogant billionaire, but he wasn't a crooked businessman, much less a bad person.

He pretended to agree, but in truth he planned to use the materials the Ten Rings gave him to build the Iron Armor!

Time was short. He had only a week. Under the Ten Rings' watchful eyes, he worked in secret alongside the doctor.

At last, the day came when the Ten Rings discovered their plan. A fierce firefight broke out between the two sides, and the unlucky doctor was hit by a bullet and fell to the ground. He spoke his final words to Tony:

"Don't waste your life."

That was right. Life was precious, something Tony hadn't realized before. Born into a wealthy family, he'd grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth, partying every day and never thinking there was anything shameful about wasting his life.

But as the doctor closed his eyes, something seemed to awaken deep within him.

The Ten Rings guards were all standing in front of the cave with their weapons raised. They were nervous, their palms sweating.

Just then, a white point of light seemed to appear deep in the dark cave. A mysterious figure gradually emerged, walking forward step by step. With each step, the ground trembled.

"What the hell is that?" One of the Ten Rings guards stared wide-eyed and couldn't help lowering his gun.

A colossal figure came into view. Its steel armor gleamed in the sunlight. Though its design was crude, it looked terrifying. Flamethrowers were mounted on its arms, jet boots were fitted beneath the armor, and tracks connected its moving joints, making it look somewhat clumsy.

The steel helmet hid Tony's face, leaving only two eyes shining like torches—the burning flames of vengeance!

"Destroy him!" one of the Ten Rings guards shouted. The others immediately opened fire, bullets clanging against the steel armor.

The Mark I Armor was made of iron, copper, magnesium alloy, and some leather. It was extremely crude, and a stray bullet might hit a track and leave one of the armor's legs unable to move.

Tony knew this. He immediately counterattacked, activating the two flamethrowers on his hands at once. Scorching flames surged out, roaring toward the enemy like two fiery dragons.

The flames consumed the heavens, becoming a blazing sea of fire. Iron Man was reborn from the ashes!

Iron Man used his flamethrowers to incinerate the missiles and weapons around him, trying to destroy everything there. The terrorists launched a fierce counterattack, and a bullet struck one of his tracks, bringing him to his knees.

At that moment, the ammunition burning around him began to explode. He knew that if he didn't escape now, he'd never get away.

"BOOM—"

Amid a deafening explosion, Tony activated his jet boots. Iron Man shot into the sky, flying upward against the backdrop of a fiery mushroom cloud.

But this shoddily made Iron Man Armor could only fly for a short time. He was still savoring the joy of escape when the engine suddenly cut out.

"Whoa!" Tony screamed. His luck was unbelievably bad—he hadn't expected to escape only to fall to his death.

Iron Man, no longer able to fly, plunged from the sky toward the endless desert below!