Iron-Hawk Short Stories

Let's Get Started ... Shall We? (1/???) [a darker series once again]

AN: ladies and gents it has truly been a hot minute since we've done a 'dark-ish' chapter and since its whumptober, lets do this

General warnings though, this might get kinda fucked up, so please heed my warnings if you're not into this kind of stuff!!

This is just the first part to most likely a three part series if not two, so I hope y'all will enjoy uwu.

Third Person's POV

"I must say, you're a difficult man to contact Mr Stark."

His eyes drifted towards the man that had just walked in and noticed the armed men surrounding him straighten their backs a little. The stranger held himself up well and it was growingly apparent that he was the head of all these men. Each step he took echoed throughout the room increasingly adding to his dominating aura.

"Perhaps next time you can try by email rather than ... oh I don't know, kidnapping." He joked and rolled his shoulders back to ease the pressure of the men forcing him on his knees. Unsurprisingly, they didn't relieve the pressure, if anything they pushed down harder.

The stranger chuckled with a shrug. He then walked towards a table where weapons that were carried by Stark's security personnel were laid out. His team had been completely massacred, unable to do anything against the highly trained hitmen that this boss man had. All dead except for three and of course, one Clint Barton.

You see, Clint was assigned on behalf of the infamous Nick Fury as extra backup just in case things went awry, which it did. One minute Tony was on his feet giving a speech and the next minute he was pulled to the ground to protect him from incoming gunshots.

Barton did a good job of holding them back for a while, but number eventually got the best of him.

The man then picked up a gun, one of Barton's guns to be more specific. He tossed it around in his hands briefly before swiftly unlocking the safety and firing one single shot. Before Tony could process anything, one of his guards fell to the ground with a deafening thud.

The room fell silent, as if a single pin drop would cause another gun shot. He held his breath as he watched the blood pool around the body. He's had his fair share of captors like this one. Stopping at nothing until they got what they wanted, killing anybody in the way or that could be used as leverage.

"Let me make something clear here Stark." They spat and stared at the weapon for a moment before making eye contact with Tony. "I'm not here to play games and from the looks of it I have three more men to shoot." He swallowed; air filled thick with tension. "So, I'm going to tell you what I want and when I want it, capiche?"

Stark nodded once and watched as they slowly stepped towards another one of his security. The barrel of the gun was pressed against their head and he could see the fear in the guard's eyes.

He hated this, not being able to do a damn thing whilst his men were murdered one by one.

"Hello?" The man caught his attention by waving the gun ever so slightly. "Can you hear me?"

He cleared his throat, "Just ... tell me what you want."

"It's nothing much, I just want a couple of your pretty little arc reactors." They shrugged with a lop-sided grin. "I'll give you five days and allow you to contact one person."

"What the hell are you going to do with them?" He bared his teeth, fully aware about the immense power that his reactors held. One was more than enough to power several nuclear weapons; he couldn't risk it getting into the wrong hands.