Some Action... or not?

[I am going through the Iron Man 1 script again and again to mix Bruce and Tony parallels into one universe, never leaving anything behind, please don't complain when I copy and fit dialogues from there as it would give more depth to the character, this is fanfiction for namesake. After reading a part of the script, I was bust rewatching Iron Man 1, which got me into Iron Man 2 then the third one, then civil war, and then Endgame, hence the delay in the chapter.]

[A major part of this is straight up from the script and will continue to be so till we reach the end of Iron Man 1, which would be mostly canon. After which I plan to change nearly everything as Batman would not allow foolish decisions to be made on his watch, keeping the canon less than 10% after the iron man 1 events

As for the timeline, Tony Stark is kidnapped somewhere around October 2008, the same day when Batman is brought into the Marvel cinematic universe. After which three months pass, the day of Christmas is when Tony comes back from the clutches of the Ten Rings, which again happens to be the same day when Bruce retakes the mantle of Batman, as mentioned in the previous chapter.]

/3 months ago/

In a dark area was laying the Merchant of Death, Tony Stark, unconscious.

With a sudden gasp of air, Tony flickers awake, becoming aware of his surroundings. Identifying it to be some sort of cave, with parts of modern machines here and there.

A tube protrudes from his nose. Tony tries to speak, but can't. It's the damn nasal tube. He pulls at it, gagging as two feet of tubing slither from his nose.

"Not the best experience after a week's rest?" The man hums a tune as he shaves by a broken mirror.

The man, Yinsen passes the water jug to Tony, after which he continues his humming and shaving.

Tony pulls the jug to drink but was restricted by a wire, under his chest bandages, snapping taut.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Tony follows the wire with his eyes and finds, to his horror, that it's hooked up to a car battery. He starts clawing at his chest bandages.

Tony sees his ugly chest wound and then follows a panic attack, the first of many.

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Yinsen stirs a bubbling pot on the furnace. He flicks glances at Tony, waking up on the cot.

Tony eyes the bulky, metallic chest piece protruding from his fresh bandages.

"What have you done to me?" Tony asks in a grim voice, which could not be helped due to all the concussions in his chest.

"What did I do? I removed what I could, but there's a lot left headed for your atrial septum. Do you want a souvenir?"

He tosses Tony a jar with scores of bloody Christmas treelike barbs. Tony regards the 'shrapnel' he owns the patent to and lets the jar drop."

Tinsen continues, "I've seen many wounds like this in my village. The walking dead we

called them because it took a week for the barbs to reach vital organs. I anchored a magnetic suspension system to the plate. It's holding the shrapnel in place...at least for now."

Tony struggles up, sits on the cot, and notices something, a surveillance camera on the cave wall.

"That's right, smile."

"You know we met twice, technical conference in Bern and then the US portal study group, I do not know whether it is luck that brought you here the same day it vanishes."

Tony was confused to how to react, but his survival interests won over his curiosity over the blue portal in NY, something that could not have been triumphed over otherwise.

"I don't remember."

"Neither would have I if I would have been that drunk, with alcohol the first time and your study next."

"Where are we --?"

The door slat flies open and a pair of dark eyes stare in. Yinsen drops his spoon and puts his hands on his head.

In comes ABU BAKAR enters with two armed Henchmen.

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After Tony is jostled awake by Abu's Henchmen, subjected to light torture, and seen VARIOUS SHOTS - OF CRATES: the STARK INTERNATIONAL MUNITIONS logos. Some faded, some new. Over the days, Tony is subjected to a choice.

"You don't like what you saw out there, did you? I didn't like it either when those weapons destroyed my village,"

A choice, where he either dies while refusing to make the Jericho due to the car battery dying, or live making something out of the parts available and being a slave to the terrorists.

"What you just saw, that's your legacy -- your life's work in the hands of these 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 try to do something about it?"

"Why should I do anything, they're either going to kill me or I'm going to die in a week."

He chooses the middle ground.

Where he lives making something out of the parts while refusing to part his legacy, the Stark's legacy in the hands of terrorists.

"Then this is a very important week for you"

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[A/N insert- AC/DC back in black]

The lights come on as the generator is started. Abu is flanked by Ahmed and several Guards

"Okay, here's what I need..."

Omar refuels the generator, then walks the gas can to lock the gas down again.

"S-Category missiles. Lot 7043. The S-30 explosive Tritonal. And a dozen of the S-76. Mortars: M-Category #1, 4, 8, 20, and 60. M229s, I need eleven of these. Mines: the pre-90s AP 5s and AP 16s."

Tony paces, barking what he needs to be done while more of Abu's Guards carry in missiles and materials. Yinsen follows, translating as Tony assesses his work area.

"...this area free of clutter, with good light. I want it at 12 o'clock to the door to avoid logjams. I need welding gear -- acetylene or propane, helmets, a soldering set-up with goggles, and

smelting cups. Two full sets of precision tools. "

The fat Abu was getting exasperated by the never-ending list.

"Finally, I want three pairs of tube socks, white, a toothbrush, protein powder, spices, sugar, five pounds of tea, and cards." Tony pauses briefly "And a washing machine. Top load."

Yinsen eyes Tony for a second before translating. Abu's eye bulges. He gets in Tony's face.

"A WASHING MACHINE? DOES HE THINK I'M A FOOL?" Abu complains in Arabic.

Tony makes hand signs, "Must have everything. Great Satan make! Big boom-kill for powerful Abu Bakar. Big boom-kill."

"You know he still does not understand English,"

"Was worth a try."

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In the cave, Tony makes progress in his project, removing tiny palladium strips from various of his company's products, to have Yinsen melt them to make a ring out of it with a sand mold.

"Heat the palladium to 1825 Kelvin."

"I am a doctor but I would be rather comfortable if you would talk to me in American"

"2825.33 Fahrenheit."

"How will I know when it reaches that temperature?"

"The Palladium will melt."

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Tony pulls the Palladium ring out of the mold, to enforce it with copper rings a finished RT device.

"That doesn't look like a Jericho missile."

"That's because it's a miniature ARK reactor. It should suspend the shrapnel in my chest and keep it from entering my heart."

"How Original. It's pretty small, what can it generate?"

"Three gigajoules" Tony rises up from his seat to rip out the newly applied bandages around his chest, to head towards the makeshift operating table of Yinsen.

"per second" Yinsen marvels at that.

./Flashback discontinued, back to the present momentarily/

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At the hangar of Port Richmond, Staten Island was a shipment, carrying questionable goods with the logo of one of the leading industries in the US market, out from the country, whose dealings were sealed in questionable, white powdery currency.

The trade was a three-way deal, where one new and upcoming businessman was to receive the paper money.

One old and experienced was to receive drugs(the not to be used in hospital kind).

And one man abroad was to receive backup arms to wage a revolution, with the famous logo of Stark and some relief in the form of human companionship, just non-consensual.

Of course, none of the heads of the respective movement were present here individually, but this walk into the park was not for them, it was for the small-time workers who were working for them.

On a moonless night, felt a gust of wind, lurking along the way made by the arrangement of shipment containers.

Staten Island had not seen a blackout since 2003, but there was no need for the lights to go out, for the dark to rise.

Standing atop with a balanced posture was the Dark Knight, with his infrared eyes gazing into the dark.

He was not into the attire he had come wearing here, no, that was for war. This is not war, this is just a walk.

Upgrades need to be made to the current attire of the caped crusader, but there will be a time for that.

Putting the green eyes back to his belt, one could notice the difference, the usual absolute Dark hood, with an unkept 5 o'clock shadow beard, none of which had any hint of the usual white the face was used to.

there fell the man followed by his cape, nabbing one silently as the waves reached the shore.

'three at 4 o'clock, five at one, while sixteen loadings and unloading at sharp nine'

He rushed to the major numbers as it facored him strategically, here 5 men werewalking and talking, with their guard up, as they had never needed it up.

But the parties would buy some heavy muscle knowing that there was someone who checked their shipment and security thereafter.