With no EMP at his immediate disposal, there's no getting out of this by fighting a man in armor. If he's got any chance of escape, it'll be using that armor to his advantage. Enough pressure to the table could break it, and from there, it's just a question of finding a weapon... Provided he doesn't pass out first. As far as plans go, it's vaguely suicidal, but at this point, he'll probably end up dead either way. Might as well have some say in the matter.

Yet there's nothing controlled or dignified about the way he presses up against the tin suit, the effort grueling and frenzied in its attempt to force Tony's hand. Break the table and maybe he'll be able to complete his objective. Break the table and maybe he'll get out of this alive.

(He's in another room. A doctor stands at the ready, preparing to issue another jolt of electricity through his dead body, when, all at once, there's a flurry of activity: a speeding heartrate, a desperate struggle to breathe. Bucky sits up ramrod straight in the bed, unable to focus on anything beyond the excruciating pain in his shoulder, the sharp pinch in his chest, the bandage wrapping tightly around his ribs.

Who's Bucky?)

"You coward," he says, nearly laughing in his fury. "Is this the only way you think you can beat me? Strapped to a table?"