The Avengers Assemble Read Online Free Page A

with you?” he asked.
    â€œYes,” Tony replied. “It’s very cool.”
    The soldier shyly pulled out his camera and handed it to the officer in the driver’s seat. He smiled and leaned in toward Tony, who flashed his camera-ready smile. The officer in the front seat fumbled with the camera, trying to figure out which button to press. The quiet soldier responded, “Come on! Just snap it, don’t change any of the settings…”
    At that very moment, just as the soldier was clicking the snapshot, the truck at the head of the convoy—the truck directly in front of Tony’s Hummer—exploded into a fiery ball of white-hot flame.
    The soldiers started to shout, and Tony, clearly shaken, asked what was happening.
    â€œJust stay down!” the soldier sitting next to him shouted. Then he, the driver, and the third escort jumped from the vehicle and opened fire to protect Tony.
    Tony squatted down under the backseat of the vehicle. So much for the clean suit. Rapid gunfire sounded outside, and he could tell that his escorts were fighting a losing battle. Tony looked up just as a barrage of bullets riddled the armored doors with holes. Tony heard the windshield shatter and felt glass falling all around him. He looked up and saw soldiers falling in front and behind his vehicle. He knew he wouldn’t make it out alive if he stayed in the truck, so he threw open the door and jumped out.
    Bullets, shrapnel, and fire rained down around him, and he lunged into the air dodging them, taking shelter behind a large rock. Sounds of warfare popped and echoed all around him as he grabbed for his cell phone. He frantically started to key in a phone number, trying to call someone, anyone—but before he could finish dialing a wailing rocket soared overhead, and landed just a few feet away from Tony. His eyes widened as he noticed the stenciling on the side of the beeping time bomb, which read: STARK INDUSTRIES .
    A fraction of a second later, Tony was enveloped in white flame, blown off the ground, and thrown harder than he thought possible a hundred meters from the blast site. Tony was barely conscious. He struggled to tear open his shirt, and realized that his Stark Industries Kevlar vest had been compromised. He was losing blood quickly and finding it impossible to keep consciousness. Finally, his head hit the ground and then everything faded to white.

CHAPTER THREE
    TONY WOKE SLOWLY in a dark room, his head throbbing, his vision blurred. He couldn’t see past whatever it was that covered his eyes. A bandage? No, it was too rough. As the ringing in his ears began to abate, he heard voices speaking a language he didn’t recognize. The wrappings over his eyes seemed to cover his entire head. It was rough, like burlap. Come to think of it, it was burlap. His hands were burning. No, not burning—numb. He couldn’t feel anything but a tingling in them. He couldn’t move them. Or his feet. He was tied.
    With a quick whip, the burlap hood was pulled from his head, and the little bit of light in the room stung his eyes. As he adjusted to the dimly lit room, he could make out what felt like sticks prodding him. But as things came into clearer view he realized they weren’t sticks, but guns—rifles, machine guns.
    The men surrounding him were hooded, threatening, menacing. And it was clear they had Tony’s life in their hands. He looked down and noticed that his chest was bandaged with gauze. The room was still blurry, and he was having trouble focusing. He lost consciousness over and over again and had no idea each time how long he had been out. But during this time, he experienced nightmarish flashes of crude operations being performed on him. He felt sharp stabs of pain, and felt like he was being torn apart and stitched back together over and over.
    Then he enjoyed a long period of rest, without these visions, and finally awoke in a cool, dark room. A hose had been