From this vantage point, Tony didn't need any map to guide him to their destination. That curl of of black smoke couldn't be anything else, and it didn't look promising. The girls should have four-wheeled their way up to the looming Cube, camouflaged in the shade of old, thick trees in a perfect circle of cleanly cut grass. Instead, Tony found as he roughly hit the ground right outside the truck's passenger door, they were looking at a smoking pile of concrete and girders, barely settled and still groaning in its depths.
With Loki still casually slung over his shoulder, Iron Man tapped the window of the truck then flicked his thumb up, stop staring and unlock, so he could open up the back and drop the weaselly alien onto the seat. "Stay," he commanded with a firm point, the Iron Man's unmoving faceplate cold and serious until it popped back to reveal Tony's quirked eyebrow. "Ladies," he began when he could tear his watchful gaze away from Loki, "if we could find any survivors in there it would make my day." It was a light suggestion, Tony twisting his hand thoughtfully in the air but remaining rooted to the spot, the other carefully out over Loki's knee just in case he tried to pull something and Tony had to accidentally cripple him.