The tent came fully equipped with every conceivable luxury—kitchen cabinets overflowing with vegetables, fruits, and premium meats, all preserved under powerful freshness charms. Even if Gemini were completely destitute, she could live comfortably in this mobile palace for months.
Emerging from her bath refreshed and elegant, Gemini had changed into a navy blue Gothic dress with elaborate ruffles and intricate lacework. She settled into one of the overstuffed armchairs, accepting the perfectly brewed tea Coby had prepared. Gothic fashion was her absolute passion—her entire wardrobe consisted of elaborate gowns in jewel tones and midnight shades. During her Hogwarts years, she'd desperately wanted to modify her school uniform, abandoning the plan only when faced with universal opposition from faculty and family alike.
"Coby, conduct reconnaissance on our target," she commanded, delicately sipping her tea. "Determine if he has companions and assess the security situation. Exercise extreme caution."
"At once, Miss Gemini." The house-elf vanished with barely a whisper of displaced air.
Minutes later, Coby materialized beside her chair with his report. "Our target is confirmed within the base, Miss—specifically in the deepest cave chamber. He shares confinement with another man, apparently a fellow captive based on their conversations. The entire cave system is monitored by surveillance cameras."
Gemini rose gracefully, stepping outside to observe the star-scattered desert sky. Full darkness had settled over the landscape like black velvet.
"Have you located their surveillance center?"
"Yes, Miss. I've mapped their entire security apparatus."
She retrieved a crystal vial from her dress pocket—the liquid within gleamed like liquid starlight. "At precisely eleven o'clock, release this improved Draught of Living Death in their monitoring station. Unlike traditional formulations requiring ingestion, my enhanced version operates through inhalation alone. The guards will experience natural, dreamless sleep with no adverse effects—they'll assume they simply dozed off."
Coby accepted the vial with reverent care. "Understood completely, Miss. Your dinner awaits in the dining room. Perhaps you should rest before the operation?"
Gemini nodded, returning to the tent's ridiculous opulence. Despite her irritation with the Malfoy aesthetic, she had to admit the accommodations were flawless. Dining on house-elf cuisine beneath the desert stars felt almost decadently perfect.
Thirty kilometers away, Tony Stark contemplated his evening meal with considerably less enthusiasm. The gray, unidentifiable substance in his dented tin container bore no resemblance to anything that had ever lived. In his previous life, he wouldn't have fed this slop to his worst enemy.
Suppressing his gag reflex, he forced the revolting mixture down his throat without chewing—the texture was beyond description. His face ashen with disgust, Tony returned to his work, hammer striking metal with methodical precision that spoke of desperate purpose.
"Tony, you need rest," Dr. Ethan observed from his position beside their meager fire. "This pace will destroy you."
"Almost finished, Ethan." Tony's voice carried grim determination as he shaped the crude armor plating. "Once this is complete, I'm getting us both out of here. And when we're free..." His eyes blazed with cold fury. "These bastards will pay for every single day."
Ethan could only shake his head, moving to arrange Tony's tools within easier reach. At least he could help conserve his friend's rapidly depleting strength.
At precisely eleven o'clock, Coby materialized silently within the terrorists' surveillance room. He secured a clothespin over his sensitive nose, uncorked the crystal vial, and gave it a gentle shake. The colorless vapor dispersed instantly.
Within sixty seconds, both guards began yawning uncontrollably. At exactly the one-minute mark, they collapsed forward onto their monitoring stations, breathing deeply in natural sleep.
Coby quickly sealed the vial, then carefully adjusted several camera angles to create a blind spot that would conceal Gemini's approach. Mission accomplished, he Disapparated back to their base camp.
"Miss Gemini, all preparations are complete. Shall we proceed?"
Gemini stood, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her elaborate dress, and lifted an elegant wicker picnic basket. "Take me to Tony Stark."
She grasped Coby's extended arm. With a sharp snap, they vanished from the luxurious tent.
In the cave, Tony sat slumped beside their pathetic fire, one hand pressed against his growling stomach. The constant hunger had become a living thing, gnawing at his concentration.
"You know what I'd give anything for right now?" he told Ethan with bitter longing. "A proper cheeseburger. Medium-rare beef, melted cheese, fresh lettuce... God, I can almost taste it."
"I didn't bring cheeseburgers," a crisp, distinctly British accent responded from the shadows, "but would steak sandwiches suffice?"
Both men leaped to their feet, spinning toward the voice in absolute shock.
"Who's there?!" Tony's voice cracked with disbelief.
A young woman stepped into their firelight—impossibly clean, elegantly dressed, looking like she'd stepped from a Victorian portrait rather than infiltrated a terrorist stronghold. Her dark hair was perfectly arranged, her elaborate navy dress unmarked by desert dust or cave grime.
"I'm not hallucinating, am I?" Tony whispered. "Who are you? How did you get past their security? Where are the guards?"
Dr. Ethan rushed to their barred entrance, yanking futilely at the heavy iron door. "Still locked," he reported grimly.
"Gemini Black," she replied with calm authority. "I've accepted a commission from Ms. Pepper Potts to retrieve Tony Stark and return him safely home."
Tony's heart lurched at the familiar name. "Pepper? Is she safe? How did she find you?"
The girl—Gemini—regarded him with barely concealed impatience. The cave's stale air, thick with weeks of masculine habitation, was clearly testing her refined sensibilities. Still, considering the substantial payment involved, she maintained professional courtesy.
"I operate an establishment called the All-Purpose Shop. For appropriate compensation, I fulfill any reasonable request. Ms. Potts is perfectly well—she paid handsomely for your safe return. Specifically, gems valued at several million dollars plus ten million in cash."
"Stop talking!" Ethan interrupted urgently. "This place is riddled with surveillance equipment! If you have an escape route, use it now—before they discover you!"
Gemini glanced at the doctor with something approaching approval. His concern for her safety despite their desperate circumstances spoke well of his character. She'd include him in the rescue—professional courtesy.
"Your concern is unnecessary but appreciated," she assured him. "The surveillance personnel are currently enjoying chemically-induced sleep. From my current position, the cameras cannot detect me."
She set her picnic basket on the cave floor with ceremonial precision. "Now then—steak sandwiches and hazelnut lattes. Interested?"
At the mention of actual food—real, recognizable human cuisine—Tony's mouth flooded with saliva. Nearly a month of subsisting on gray slop had reduced him to dreaming about proper meals.
"Yes," he breathed, lunging for the basket.
Inside, wrapped in pristine linen, lay two magnificent steak sandwiches. Thick-cut artisan bread cradled perfectly cooked beef—medium-rare, still faintly pink, with fresh lettuce and what appeared to be aged cheese. The aroma alone nearly brought tears to his eyes.
Tony handed one sandwich to Ethan, clutching his own like a religious artifact. They exchanged a look of pure, desperate gratitude before biting down simultaneously.
The first taste of actual beef—tender, seasoned, real—nearly broke Tony's composure entirely. He had to suppress a moan of pure ecstasy as flavor exploded across his taste buds.
This, he thought through his euphoria, is what salvation tastes like.
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