Issue #3 by D. Golightly
March 2018
March 2018
"CHAPTER THREE - CAPTAIN AMERICA"
Steve Rogers had lost faith in his country before, and he was having a hard time keeping his faith strong again. As Captain America he had seen everything from dictators to gaudy supervillains try to rattle his character, but today was different. It was so subtle.
Dressed in his civilian clothes, he stepped down the front steps of the Capital Building in Washington, DC, trying to talk himself into not turning around and marching back in to tell the members of Congress what was really going through his mind.
After everything the Avengers had done, after all of the countless times they had saved the country, the world, and the very galaxy, there were still people that didn’t trust them. While Steve thought that, given their influence and power levels, keeping the Avengers in check was a good thing, practically handcuffing them through legislation was going to do more harm than good.
The Avengers was not a paramilitary organization, but given the President’s comments mere minutes ago on the Senate floor, he certainly seemed to think otherwise. The Avengers had strong government connections, and even had a liaison with the White House, but this? It was too much. They were independent and needed to remain so.
The President had basically just declared that all future Avengers’ actions would go through the Oval Office first, and if their plans weren’t sanctioned, they had to stand down or risk treason.
Treason. It was insane to even think it, but that was the precise word that the President had used. As soon as the session had ended, Steve left without speaking to anyone. The session had aired on C-SPAN, so the new protocols would be hitting the internet headlines already.
For the last two months, Congress and the President had been acting strangely. Closed-door meetings about mutant registration bills, superhuman enforcement acts, and various other localized restrictions on vigilantism were beginning to sweep the country. None of it seemed wrong or illegal, but it was all without prompting. There had been no public incident that Steve knew of that was pushing all of this forward.
Basically, the government was acting out of character, and the superhero community was now being forced to pay a toll.
Steve sighed. He would deal with the fallout from today’s decisions later. He was sure that Tony was going to want to hash this out. He was probably already in contact with his lobbyist buddies. Right now he had to get to a training exercise, and at that moment it was precisely what he needed to find a release for his frustrations.
He extracted his keys from his pocket, chirped off the alarm for his red mustang, and climbed into the driver’s seat. Within seconds he was moving through the national’s capital, and once he hit the highway, tapped in an activation code into the panel mounted on the dashboard.
In response, anti-gravity engines roared to life beneath the vehicle, lifting the Mustang off of the roadway. He lifted a few dozen feet off of the ground, and then all four tires pushed out from the frame, turning to face the rear of the vehicle. The hubcaps opened to reveal thrusters, which ignited now that he was clear of any other traffic, and catapulted him up and over Washington, DC.
While he missed the 40s, he was glad that this modern age had things like a new version of Nick Fury’s classic flying S.H.I.E.L.D. car. He rushed away from DC, the President, and his aggravation, looking forward to breaking a sweat with some of this friends.
# # # # #
“Watch your six!” Captain America shouted as he slung his shield across the field.
Quicksilver ripped by him, ducking beneath rounded blasts of energized plasma coming from the enclosed fists of Havok. The mutant speedster rocketed toward Alex Summers, the de facto leader of the uncanny X-Men, moving like a battering ram to dislodge Havok from the high ground.
Havok tore into the terrain with his plasma bursts, completely shredding the ground that Quicksilver was about to step on. In response, Quicksilver changed his trajectory at the last second, avoiding falling into the newly created pit. While it seemed like Havok now had the upper hand, Quicksilver knew better, and as he ran by he looked up and winked.
Confused, Havok turned his head just in time to see Cap’s shield slam right into the center of his chest, knocking him down from the hill he had positioned himself on.
“Nice work, team!” Cap shouted over the general chaos of the training exercise.
The team’s goal was simple: capture the hill and hold your ground for a full minute. If you could do that, your team won. It was a twist on an old child’s game that Cap had played many times in his youth, but this time instead of playing a pick-up game with whoever was running around the streets of Brooklyn, he was playing with some of the world’s foremost superhumans.
The Avengers team consisted of Captain America, Quicksilver, Karnak, and Wasp. A solid team that Cap knew personally and who he felt was capable of doing just about anything. They were pitted against the X-Men, formidable mutants that were veterans of heroics. Havok had jumped at the idea of a friendly engagement to get their minds off of their recent troubles stemming from Genosha, and he had brought along Iceman, Rogue, and Wolverine to blow off some steam.
So far, Karnak had held the hill the longest, until he had foolishly allowed Rogue to test him in hand-to-hand combat. Karnak was arguably one of the keenest fighters in history, but that didn’t matter when after one landing one blow on Rogue, the skin-to-skin contact allowed her to absorb all of his extensive fighting prowess. Surprised, Karnak had been dislodged after only thirty seconds.
Cap’s shield rebounded off of the sky, which wasn’t actually sky, but rather the ceiling of the X-Men’s Danger Room. He ran up a pack of boulders that were half buried in the terrain, leapt off, and somersaulted as he caught his shield. He landed squarely on his feet and kept running, charging for the hill at the center of the Danger Room.
The Danger Room was one of the most sophisticated pieces of technology ever created, and even though the grass, rocks, and hillside were holographic projects, they still felt real. Given the chaos that they were unleashing, he was glad that there wouldn’t be any actual clean up afterward other than to reset the program.
“Wasp!” Cap said as he pointed at the hill. “Flank and move in!”
The charismatic Janet Van Dyne, garbed in one of her colorful Wasp outfits, might have nodded in response, but it was impossible to tell. She was barely an inch high, and currently riding the gentle currents thirty feet above the fray. Her insectoid wings propelled her shrunken body forward to the opposite side of the hill as Cap ran up his side. If they came at it from two sides they had double the chances of scoring a win.
But a wall of ice suddenly sprung up between Cap and the top of the hill, effectively cutting him off. He traced the route of the beam that had flashed a nanosecond prior, seeing Bobby Drake, the irrefutable Iceman, slipping toward him on huge slide made of ice. It was one of his signature maneuvers, but one that Cap knew had to counter.
He did a back handspring back down the hill, out of Iceman’s direct line of fire, and launched his shield at Iceman’s feet. The slide was a fast mode of transportation, but it also relied completely on Iceman being able to keep his footing. If he dislodged the mutant, then he would quickly have the upper ground again, literally.
But someone else had anticipated the tactic. A quick slash and a feral growl slapped Cap’s shield out of the air, and Wolverine landed between Cap and Iceman.
“Sorry, bub,” Wolverine said with a snarky smirk. “Seen you do that one before.”
“And awaaay we go!” Iceman said as he skated by over their heads. His slide sloped downward enough to give him enough momentum to reach the hill below, and he was coming in fast, ready to take the win.
His consistent ice blast formed the slide, creating a quick lip at the end for him to use to leap over his own ice wall and onto the hill. Just as he reached that point, however, Wasp enlarged from behind the wall where he couldn’t see her, using her stinging blasts to rip apart the slide. Iceman tumbled awkwardly, slamming into his wall and rolling back down the hill.
“Form up!” Cap called out, signaling his fellow Avengers to protect Wasp so that she could claim the victory.
Wolverine placed a foot on Cap’s grounded shield and said, “This was a good idea, Cap. I needed to stretch my muscles a bit.”
“Glad you’re having fun,” Cap retorted as he circled cautiously around Logan. He had tussled with Wolverine a few times before, and it never ended well. Even though this was just a skirmish, he would proceed with caution.
Wolverine brandished his claws with a sharp SNKT! and Cap instinctively twisted his body so that he was only presenting his side to the mutant, making a smaller target area to strike. The mutant rushed forward, swinging his claws, forcing Cap to backpedal, but when Cap countered with a kick to Logan’s abdomen, the mutant pivoted on one foot and ran straight up the hill.
The attack had been a feint, and now Cap was facing the wrong way to keep Wolverine from reaching the ice wall and the goal within. Cap smirked, realizing his rookie mistake: he had assumed what his opponent would do, forgetting that the exercise wasn’t to brawl, but rather to just mount the hill and take control from the other team.
But Wolverine had also left something else exposed: his shield. No longer held down or kept separate from its owner, Cap dove, rolled, and sprung back up with his shield as he had so many times before over the course of his expansive lifetime. He was about to fling it at the wayward mutant, but an explosion of plasma energy caught his attention first.
Havok and Rogue were both pinned in place by a cyclone that had to be Quicksilver running at a ridiculous speed. Havok was firing charges of plasma into the maelstrom, but wasn’t able to hit Quicksilver just yet.
Just behind them, Karnak was smashing through a scattering of sculptures that Iceman had thrown in his path. Anyone else might have been slowed down, but Karnak was just ripping through the obstacles, surprisingly aided by thick chunks of ice that Iceman must have encapsulated his fists within. He used them like clubs, obliterating the ice sculptures and sending slivers of the ice flying in all directions.
A heavy chunk! brought Cap’s attention back to Wolverine, who was stabbing his claws into the ice wall in order to create handholds for himself. He was already halfway up the slick surface and that much closer to getting at Wasp within.
“From above!” Cap called out, signaling Wasp behind the ice wall as to where she needed to concentrate her defense.
Just as Wolverine reached the top of the wall, a yellow blast from the Wasp’s special stingers knocked him back down the hill. A few seconds after that, the Danger Room locked up and a chirp sounded, indicating that Wasp had spent the required sixty seconds on top of the hill. The Avengers had won the skirmish and the exercise was now over.
Janet’s tiny form rose up from behind the wall and gave Cap a thumbs-up. He returned the gesture and smiled. Logan had been right – this had been a much-needed excuse to stretch his muscles, even though he hadn’t gone toe-to-toe with any of the X-Men. He was much more satisfied knowing that the commands he had issued had been followed, marking this exercise for what it really was.
Not an excuse to bash each other; a chance to hone their collaborative techniques. Cap knew each of these individuals personally, and was glad to see that their communication as a team was remaining intact. They had to know each other intimately. He trusted each of these men and women with his life.
And in their line of work, it sometimes came down to that.
# # # # #
“I understand your frustration, Tony,” Cap said.
“Do you?” Tony Stark’s image on the video-chat screen had turned red from all of the yelling he had been doing. “As a joke, I told Pepper that it would take an act of Congress to get me to turn over my tech to the government. And guess what just happened?”
From his lab in California, Tony flapped a piece of paper at the webcam that had some kind of seal stamped at the bottom. After the training exercise had completed, Cap had retired to one of the communication rooms in the X-Men’s mansion to coordinate a recovery mission with Stingray and a couple of Danny Rand and Luke Cage’s Avengers NEXT candidates. Tony had called in the middle of the briefing, beside himself.
“Aren’t these your people?” Tony continued. “Can’t you talk some sense into them?”
“They’re as much my people as they are yours, Tony. Or did you forget to vote again?”
Tony shot him an ironic smirk, but obviously wasn’t amused. “This is serious, Steve. I’ve been funneling resources into disaster relief efforts, but I was very clear that under no circumstances would I hand over proprietary technology as part of any arrangement. This,” he flapped the paper furiously again at the camera, “is in direct contradiction to that. They want everything, Steve. From my repulsor tech to my Bleeding Edge armor designs.”
“They made those specific requests? They named the tech?”
“Yes! And what’s really alarming is that half of this stuff they’re asking for isn’t public knowledge. Now, you tell me that Big Brother isn’t watching, hmm?”
Cap sighed. He had pulled his cowl back, but still wore his chainmail. His shield was leaning against the communications hub, never far away. It was like an extension of his body and he didn’t feel completely comfortable if he was separated from it for long.
He honestly didn’t know what to make of this. From the disappointing session at the Capital that morning to this news from Tony, something was seriously wrong. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but he felt like there was an agenda at play here. He just couldn’t connect the dots. Not enough of them had come into focus yet.
“How do you want to handle this?” Cap finally asked.
“With a dream team of lawyers that will make them cry for their mommies.” Tony huffed. “I don’t have time for this. I have all of these Von Doom radiation variables at play out here, A.I.M. thinking that they can just do whatever the hell they feel like, and Bill gave me his resignation.”
“Bill Foster? He’s leaving your company?”
“Yeah, but it’s okay. He has a great opportunity. I was going to counter the offer, but apparently he has this thing called ‘integrity.’”
“Go figure.”
“Yep. I might just get me some myself one of these days.” Tony’s look turned somber. “Look, Steve. Watch yourself out there, okay?”
“Same to you, friend. The Avengers will deal with this like they always do – together and above board.”
“Sure. But what about when the other team isn’t playing as fair as you are?”
Before Cap could answer, Tony signed off and the screen went dark. Cap’s mouth was left hanging open, because it was a question that Tony had put to him many times before. Where exactly was the moral high ground these days? Cap often felt like certain positions were immovable, but Tony always had a valid counterpoint.
“Knock, knock!” someone behind him said. He turned to see Janet step into the room. She said, “You look like you need a drink.”
“A beer wouldn’t kill me,” he responded.
Janet looked surprised. “Really? I thought I was going to have to twist your arm.”
Cap picked up his shield. “Social interaction is essential to core team building.”
Now it was Janet’s turn for her mouth to hang open. After a pause, she said, “…of course you would say that. C’mon. Bobby is already in the rec room.”
The mansion that the X-Men called home was both a tribute to gothic architecture and modern technology. It had become a perfect blending of yesteryear design and nextgen science, from the hard wood paneling and archways to the biometrics lab and Danger Room. While the X-Men were costumed adventurers, they weren’t superheroes. Not really. They certainly thrived throughout the superhero community, but at their very center they were activists, humanitarians, and futurists, which was why their headquarters also doubled as a school for gifted youngsters.
Janet led Cap through the mansion, past several converted dorm rooms, one of the kitchens, and into what he assumed was a teacher’s lounge. All of it was furnished in exquisite detail, even putting Jarvis’ caretaking to shame. The Avengers’ mansion was similar in fashion, but not to this aristocratic degree.
One the far room of the lounge, Janet tapped in a security code, which opened the next doorway. She ushered Steve into the X-Men’s recreational room, a step beyond the teacher’s only lounge. This place was only accessible by the X-Men themselves and their honored guests. It seemed to have something for everyone – an arcade machine, a bar, a big screen TV, a pool table, and even several large bookshelves filled with paperbacks.
“Cap!” Bobby Drake, the chilling Iceman, exclaimed as they entered the room. He was busy racking up a high score on the arcade machine. “What can I get you? Hey, how about that training exercise today, huh? That’s the last time I get in front of Karnak. I’d hate to be on his bad side. Tell me something; is he always so Undertaker? I mean, the guy is pretty cold, you know? So, about that drink? You’re a Coors man, right? No, I know. Budweiser. Yeah. All you old school guys drink Bud.”
Cap raised an eyebrow. While Bobby Drake tended to be on the more carefree side, he didn’t usually ramble like this. With a chance to get a word in, Cap finally said, “Whatever you have is fine.”
“Right. Cool. Cool.” Iceman hit the buttons on the arcade machine a few more times before stepping away to the small refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of beer for the Captain, offering it to him with his right hand.
He then stepped back and created a basketball-sized snowball that he spun on his right index finger. He looked like a frozen Globetrotter as he slid the giant snowball up his forearm, bounced it off his elbow, and again balanced it on his fingertip. “Next time I get to pick the team exercise,” Iceman said, smiling. “Something a little more sporty.”
Cap raised his bottle slightly in thanks, and tipped it back for a small gulp. The beer was refreshing, he had to admit. He didn’t typically drink, but earning his stripes in various army camps throughout Europe in the 40s had instilled in him a sense of the comradery shared over a quick drink. That train of thought was what why he had brought his small Avengers contingent to the X-Men’s home in the first place.
Behind him, Wasp closed the door, tapped in the security code to engage the lock, and said, “Steve…what’s going on with the East Coast branch these days?”
“How do you mean?” Cap replied.
“I mean, what can you tell us about these NEXT kids that Stark has been bankrolling? Some kind of talent pool, right?”
Cap raised an eyebrow. “You wrote the memo to the reserve members,” he stated. “Do you mean you want an update on their progress?”
“Yeah. An update. Give us an update,” Iceman said. He feigned shooting the giant snowball into an imaginary hoop, instead allowing it to just softly puff into a tiny flurry of snow that fell to the floor.
Cap stared at Iceman for a moment and then tossed his bottle to the mutant, startling him, but he caught it easily enough in his right hand. Iceman glared quizzically at Cap for a second before saying, “Ah, crap. He knows.”
Yellow color flashed behind Cap, but he had already started to move. Wasp’s sting struck him in the shoulder, which hurt like hell, but he was relatively fine. He whipped around and slung his shield at Wasp, striking her in the chest and slamming her into the sealed doorway.
He realized his error as soon as his back was to Iceman. The pain in his shoulder vanished as Iceman hit him with a freezing blast, numbing not just his injury, but also his entire torso. In half a second he was encased in ice from the neck down, struggling just to breath. The ice was constricting and gnawing at him, the cold forcing the air from his lungs.
“Damn it!” Wasp shouted as she sat up and struggled to stand. “That hurt! God, I cannot wait to gut this guy.”
“W-who are you?” Captain America demanded, forcing the words out despite his drastically lowering body temperature.
Wasp rubbed her collarbone, which was already forming a dark bruise. “Janet Van Dyne, darling. But on my world, I’m not called Wasp – I’m called Killer Bee.”
“Don’t get too close,” Iceman said as he stepped around the front of the incapacitated Cap. “If he’s anything like the American he’s still dangerous.”
Killer Bee shot Iceman an annoyed look, then refocused on Cap. “How did you know, Frostbite? What gave us away?” she asked.
“Your odd questions,” Cap replied, “and Bobby Drake is left-handed.”
Killer Bee smacked Iceman on the shoulder. “Idiot,” she said. “How could you be so stupid? That’s a rookie mistake.”
“Hey, you’re the one that was asking about stuff that you’re already supposed to know!” Frostbite shot back. “That’s against the C.O.D.E. The American is going to punish you for a mistake like that.”
“Save it, Frosty,” Killer Bee retorted. “We’ll see who he punishes. Get a secure channel up.”
Frostbite grimaced, but did as he was told. Cap shivered, trying his best to focus as his body temperature rapidly dropped. He watched the pseudo-Iceman reach for the console beside the bar, type in the access code, and make a secured video call. Which was impossible. He was sure they were imposters of some kind. Dopplegangers. Nearly perfect, save for a few small details.
They could be shapeshifters of some kind, which he had dealt with before. But this Frostbite seemed to know the access code, which he knew from experience was changed daily. That meant they had inside information, likely from the source. As dangerous as this Killer Bee and Frostbite appeared, wherever the real Wasp and Iceman were had to be even more dangerous. If they were even still alive.
“Hurry up,” Killer Bee said as she anxiously looked at the door. “This place is crawling with mutant brats.”
“Keep your wings on,” Frostbite shot back. “There we go! Reporting in, sir. We have Rogers contained.”
Cap was struggling beneath the ice. It was so thick and dense that it felt like it was putting pressure on his lungs, but he kept fighting. He started to feel his hand move, possibly from the friction or maybe just from sheer will and determination. Cap couldn’t see the screen from the way he had been facing when Frostbite had encased him, but his heart skipped a beat when he heard the voice reply. He was shocked, because the voice coming through the speaker was his own.
“Are you sure?” the voice said. “All reports indicate that he is not to be underestimated.”
Frostbite glanced back over his own frozen shoulder and said, “Yeah, I’m sure. He’s a popsicle. We’re checking in per your orders, sir.”
“Show him to me,” the voice said.
Killer Bee wrapped her arms around the block of ice that encased Captain America, struggling to twist him to face the screen. When she finally did, Cap was chilled beyond what the ice could do to him.
Centered in the screen was his exact image, a face he knew so well due to seeing it in the mirror every morning, even down to the slight scar on his chin that he had received from the Red Skull years ago. The only difference in his appearance was his cowl, which was black and pulled back off his blond hair.
“Remarkable,” the man on the screen said. “I’ve been studying you from afar, but to see you like this…truly remarkable.”
“What are you?” Cap demanded. “Another of the Skull’s clones?”
“The Skull?” The other Steve Rogers’ brow wrinkled as if to consider the question. Then, a laugh. “Of course. That would make sense to you, wouldn’t it? Much easier to accept that I’m some knock-off clone then the real thing. But I assure you, Captain America, that I am quite real. A greater American than you could ever be, and I aim to make that painfully evident very soon.”
“The Avengers will—”
Now it was Frostbite who laughed. “That name still makes me want to puke!” the mutant spat out. “Avengers! It sounds like a kid made it up for a comic book. Look, I’m sure that where you come from it’s all rainbows and sunshine, and the good guys always win, but I mean, just look around you.” He motioned around the empty room, and then pointed directly at Killer Bee, who sneered. “Does it look like your little hero squad is coming anytime soon?”
“Hell, you have no idea how many of us have already infiltrated your ranks,” Killer Bee added.
“Bee!” the man on the screen chided.
“Infiltrated?” Cap muttered. His hand could now wiggle just a little more. “How many of you are there?”
The man sighed. “Let me ask you this, Captain. Over the last few months, have you found that your hands have been tied? That running to the rescue as a precious Avenger is no longer such a cavalier thing? That your allies have become closed off and unresponsive?”
Cap allowed no emotion on his face, but internally he was straining. Could it be true?
The troubles in Washington…
Tony’s bureaucratic nightmare…
T’Challa’s recent attitude shift…
Luke Cage’s radio silence…
Were they even linked, or was he being paranoid? He had to get out, had to warn someone. Anyone. But who? He had been standing in the room with two perfect dopplegangers and had no idea until it was too late. How many other people that he trusted had been compromised, replaced, and were in danger?
“On our world, I would have you put in a public stockade and tried you openly for your crimes against my New World Order,” the other Rogers said. “And it may come to that. Once I move onto the final phase of my C.O.D.E., you’ll see that everything you hold in high regard will come under my control. Soon enough, Captain America. With my own ally guiding the course of this campaign, I can promise you that much.”
Before Cap could retort, the image changed, and another familiar face flashed onto the screen, although this one still had a mask in place. A solid purple, it covered his head completely, but somehow the menace of his facial features showed through.
“Zemo,” Cap said through ground teeth.
“Good afternoon, Captain,” Baron Zemo stated. “What a pleasure it is to see you brought to your knees before me once again.”
“How did you—”
“Survive? Yes, what a fool you are to assume that Zemo did not have a plan in place should I nearly meet my demise. Have you not learned by now, Captain, that I am your superior in every way?”
The screen split, showing the other Rogers and Zemo on the same feed. The man with Cap’s face said, “Our alliance has circumvented virtually every global order on your planet. We have agents in place from the lowest recesses of your government to the top of your so-called heroes’ organizations. My campaign to conquer your world has been underway for months, and you were non the wiser.”
“So, tell us, Captain,” Zemo said. “With your opposite and your superior working side by side, what hope could you possibly still have? Finally, I will see you submit, Rogers!”
“When do we get to turn on the rest of the school?” Killer Bee, a hunger in her voice. “You should see these bratty kids all over the place, just begging to be put in line.”
“All in good time,” the other Rogers said. “First, meet with the others on campus and bring him to us. I want Steve Rogers secured in the Watchtower immediately. Do not, I repeat, do not reveal yourselves.”
“If you fail,” Zemo added, “it will cost you your lives.”
“You got it, boss,” Frostbite said. “Any chance I can—” The screen went blank. “Oookay. And I thought I was the one with the cold shoulder.”
“Ice him over completely,” Killer Bee said. “I’ll get a portable hologram projector from the Danger Room and mask him as a sculpture. If anyone asks, we can say we’re just moving it around to make room out in their little tribute garden.”
As soon as she turned away, Cap finally had enough leverage from the constant tensing of his arm muscles burst his right side free of the ice. Huge chunks exploded out into the lounge, and Frostbite ducked beneath one and readied a shot at his quarry, but he had made the mistake of standing within arm’s reach. Cap slapped his fist back, catching the mutant across the jaw, and all of the hero’s will had been backed by the super-soldier serum coursing through his veins. Frostbite whipped around from the strike and slammed into the wall.
“Goddammit!” Killer Bee shouted as she rounded on Cap, her vicious stings ready to let loose.
But Captain America smashed his free hand down onto the ice covering his own chest, finally erupting completely free. She was showered with shards of sharp ice, unable to keep herself from flinching, and her stings went wide, completely missing their intended targets. Without hesitation, Cap flung himself at her, spinning and sweeping his heel across her face. She whirled into a couch, was flung over, and cracked her forehead on the coffee table.
Frostbite was halfway up, the ice armor around his face now cracked and falling away. The Captain spun around and drove his other fist straight down into Frostbite’s nose, dropping him with a heavy thud.
They wouldn’t be down for long, but at least they were down. He had a decision to make. He knew from listening to them that the entire campus hadn’t been turned, or infiltrated, or whatever they were up to. But he didn’t know who he could trust. He might try and find help, but he was doubting his chances of avoiding anyone else that was no longer who they said they were.
He scooped up his shield, and against his better judgement, he ran. He kicked open the door, dashed down the hallway, and slipped out one of the side exits. He had been here often enough to know the campus layout. From there he would skirt across the hedges on the south lawn, leap over the security wall, and head for the city.
After that…he wasn’t sure what his next move would be. The Avengers had been comprised. He needed to get help, locate this American that wore his face, and put an end to this. But who?
Who could he trust?
TO BE CONTINUED!
Dressed in his civilian clothes, he stepped down the front steps of the Capital Building in Washington, DC, trying to talk himself into not turning around and marching back in to tell the members of Congress what was really going through his mind.
After everything the Avengers had done, after all of the countless times they had saved the country, the world, and the very galaxy, there were still people that didn’t trust them. While Steve thought that, given their influence and power levels, keeping the Avengers in check was a good thing, practically handcuffing them through legislation was going to do more harm than good.
The Avengers was not a paramilitary organization, but given the President’s comments mere minutes ago on the Senate floor, he certainly seemed to think otherwise. The Avengers had strong government connections, and even had a liaison with the White House, but this? It was too much. They were independent and needed to remain so.
The President had basically just declared that all future Avengers’ actions would go through the Oval Office first, and if their plans weren’t sanctioned, they had to stand down or risk treason.
Treason. It was insane to even think it, but that was the precise word that the President had used. As soon as the session had ended, Steve left without speaking to anyone. The session had aired on C-SPAN, so the new protocols would be hitting the internet headlines already.
For the last two months, Congress and the President had been acting strangely. Closed-door meetings about mutant registration bills, superhuman enforcement acts, and various other localized restrictions on vigilantism were beginning to sweep the country. None of it seemed wrong or illegal, but it was all without prompting. There had been no public incident that Steve knew of that was pushing all of this forward.
Basically, the government was acting out of character, and the superhero community was now being forced to pay a toll.
Steve sighed. He would deal with the fallout from today’s decisions later. He was sure that Tony was going to want to hash this out. He was probably already in contact with his lobbyist buddies. Right now he had to get to a training exercise, and at that moment it was precisely what he needed to find a release for his frustrations.
He extracted his keys from his pocket, chirped off the alarm for his red mustang, and climbed into the driver’s seat. Within seconds he was moving through the national’s capital, and once he hit the highway, tapped in an activation code into the panel mounted on the dashboard.
In response, anti-gravity engines roared to life beneath the vehicle, lifting the Mustang off of the roadway. He lifted a few dozen feet off of the ground, and then all four tires pushed out from the frame, turning to face the rear of the vehicle. The hubcaps opened to reveal thrusters, which ignited now that he was clear of any other traffic, and catapulted him up and over Washington, DC.
While he missed the 40s, he was glad that this modern age had things like a new version of Nick Fury’s classic flying S.H.I.E.L.D. car. He rushed away from DC, the President, and his aggravation, looking forward to breaking a sweat with some of this friends.
# # # # #
“Watch your six!” Captain America shouted as he slung his shield across the field.
Quicksilver ripped by him, ducking beneath rounded blasts of energized plasma coming from the enclosed fists of Havok. The mutant speedster rocketed toward Alex Summers, the de facto leader of the uncanny X-Men, moving like a battering ram to dislodge Havok from the high ground.
Havok tore into the terrain with his plasma bursts, completely shredding the ground that Quicksilver was about to step on. In response, Quicksilver changed his trajectory at the last second, avoiding falling into the newly created pit. While it seemed like Havok now had the upper hand, Quicksilver knew better, and as he ran by he looked up and winked.
Confused, Havok turned his head just in time to see Cap’s shield slam right into the center of his chest, knocking him down from the hill he had positioned himself on.
“Nice work, team!” Cap shouted over the general chaos of the training exercise.
The team’s goal was simple: capture the hill and hold your ground for a full minute. If you could do that, your team won. It was a twist on an old child’s game that Cap had played many times in his youth, but this time instead of playing a pick-up game with whoever was running around the streets of Brooklyn, he was playing with some of the world’s foremost superhumans.
The Avengers team consisted of Captain America, Quicksilver, Karnak, and Wasp. A solid team that Cap knew personally and who he felt was capable of doing just about anything. They were pitted against the X-Men, formidable mutants that were veterans of heroics. Havok had jumped at the idea of a friendly engagement to get their minds off of their recent troubles stemming from Genosha, and he had brought along Iceman, Rogue, and Wolverine to blow off some steam.
So far, Karnak had held the hill the longest, until he had foolishly allowed Rogue to test him in hand-to-hand combat. Karnak was arguably one of the keenest fighters in history, but that didn’t matter when after one landing one blow on Rogue, the skin-to-skin contact allowed her to absorb all of his extensive fighting prowess. Surprised, Karnak had been dislodged after only thirty seconds.
Cap’s shield rebounded off of the sky, which wasn’t actually sky, but rather the ceiling of the X-Men’s Danger Room. He ran up a pack of boulders that were half buried in the terrain, leapt off, and somersaulted as he caught his shield. He landed squarely on his feet and kept running, charging for the hill at the center of the Danger Room.
The Danger Room was one of the most sophisticated pieces of technology ever created, and even though the grass, rocks, and hillside were holographic projects, they still felt real. Given the chaos that they were unleashing, he was glad that there wouldn’t be any actual clean up afterward other than to reset the program.
“Wasp!” Cap said as he pointed at the hill. “Flank and move in!”
The charismatic Janet Van Dyne, garbed in one of her colorful Wasp outfits, might have nodded in response, but it was impossible to tell. She was barely an inch high, and currently riding the gentle currents thirty feet above the fray. Her insectoid wings propelled her shrunken body forward to the opposite side of the hill as Cap ran up his side. If they came at it from two sides they had double the chances of scoring a win.
But a wall of ice suddenly sprung up between Cap and the top of the hill, effectively cutting him off. He traced the route of the beam that had flashed a nanosecond prior, seeing Bobby Drake, the irrefutable Iceman, slipping toward him on huge slide made of ice. It was one of his signature maneuvers, but one that Cap knew had to counter.
He did a back handspring back down the hill, out of Iceman’s direct line of fire, and launched his shield at Iceman’s feet. The slide was a fast mode of transportation, but it also relied completely on Iceman being able to keep his footing. If he dislodged the mutant, then he would quickly have the upper ground again, literally.
But someone else had anticipated the tactic. A quick slash and a feral growl slapped Cap’s shield out of the air, and Wolverine landed between Cap and Iceman.
“Sorry, bub,” Wolverine said with a snarky smirk. “Seen you do that one before.”
“And awaaay we go!” Iceman said as he skated by over their heads. His slide sloped downward enough to give him enough momentum to reach the hill below, and he was coming in fast, ready to take the win.
His consistent ice blast formed the slide, creating a quick lip at the end for him to use to leap over his own ice wall and onto the hill. Just as he reached that point, however, Wasp enlarged from behind the wall where he couldn’t see her, using her stinging blasts to rip apart the slide. Iceman tumbled awkwardly, slamming into his wall and rolling back down the hill.
“Form up!” Cap called out, signaling his fellow Avengers to protect Wasp so that she could claim the victory.
Wolverine placed a foot on Cap’s grounded shield and said, “This was a good idea, Cap. I needed to stretch my muscles a bit.”
“Glad you’re having fun,” Cap retorted as he circled cautiously around Logan. He had tussled with Wolverine a few times before, and it never ended well. Even though this was just a skirmish, he would proceed with caution.
Wolverine brandished his claws with a sharp SNKT! and Cap instinctively twisted his body so that he was only presenting his side to the mutant, making a smaller target area to strike. The mutant rushed forward, swinging his claws, forcing Cap to backpedal, but when Cap countered with a kick to Logan’s abdomen, the mutant pivoted on one foot and ran straight up the hill.
The attack had been a feint, and now Cap was facing the wrong way to keep Wolverine from reaching the ice wall and the goal within. Cap smirked, realizing his rookie mistake: he had assumed what his opponent would do, forgetting that the exercise wasn’t to brawl, but rather to just mount the hill and take control from the other team.
But Wolverine had also left something else exposed: his shield. No longer held down or kept separate from its owner, Cap dove, rolled, and sprung back up with his shield as he had so many times before over the course of his expansive lifetime. He was about to fling it at the wayward mutant, but an explosion of plasma energy caught his attention first.
Havok and Rogue were both pinned in place by a cyclone that had to be Quicksilver running at a ridiculous speed. Havok was firing charges of plasma into the maelstrom, but wasn’t able to hit Quicksilver just yet.
Just behind them, Karnak was smashing through a scattering of sculptures that Iceman had thrown in his path. Anyone else might have been slowed down, but Karnak was just ripping through the obstacles, surprisingly aided by thick chunks of ice that Iceman must have encapsulated his fists within. He used them like clubs, obliterating the ice sculptures and sending slivers of the ice flying in all directions.
A heavy chunk! brought Cap’s attention back to Wolverine, who was stabbing his claws into the ice wall in order to create handholds for himself. He was already halfway up the slick surface and that much closer to getting at Wasp within.
“From above!” Cap called out, signaling Wasp behind the ice wall as to where she needed to concentrate her defense.
Just as Wolverine reached the top of the wall, a yellow blast from the Wasp’s special stingers knocked him back down the hill. A few seconds after that, the Danger Room locked up and a chirp sounded, indicating that Wasp had spent the required sixty seconds on top of the hill. The Avengers had won the skirmish and the exercise was now over.
Janet’s tiny form rose up from behind the wall and gave Cap a thumbs-up. He returned the gesture and smiled. Logan had been right – this had been a much-needed excuse to stretch his muscles, even though he hadn’t gone toe-to-toe with any of the X-Men. He was much more satisfied knowing that the commands he had issued had been followed, marking this exercise for what it really was.
Not an excuse to bash each other; a chance to hone their collaborative techniques. Cap knew each of these individuals personally, and was glad to see that their communication as a team was remaining intact. They had to know each other intimately. He trusted each of these men and women with his life.
And in their line of work, it sometimes came down to that.
# # # # #
“I understand your frustration, Tony,” Cap said.
“Do you?” Tony Stark’s image on the video-chat screen had turned red from all of the yelling he had been doing. “As a joke, I told Pepper that it would take an act of Congress to get me to turn over my tech to the government. And guess what just happened?”
From his lab in California, Tony flapped a piece of paper at the webcam that had some kind of seal stamped at the bottom. After the training exercise had completed, Cap had retired to one of the communication rooms in the X-Men’s mansion to coordinate a recovery mission with Stingray and a couple of Danny Rand and Luke Cage’s Avengers NEXT candidates. Tony had called in the middle of the briefing, beside himself.
“Aren’t these your people?” Tony continued. “Can’t you talk some sense into them?”
“They’re as much my people as they are yours, Tony. Or did you forget to vote again?”
Tony shot him an ironic smirk, but obviously wasn’t amused. “This is serious, Steve. I’ve been funneling resources into disaster relief efforts, but I was very clear that under no circumstances would I hand over proprietary technology as part of any arrangement. This,” he flapped the paper furiously again at the camera, “is in direct contradiction to that. They want everything, Steve. From my repulsor tech to my Bleeding Edge armor designs.”
“They made those specific requests? They named the tech?”
“Yes! And what’s really alarming is that half of this stuff they’re asking for isn’t public knowledge. Now, you tell me that Big Brother isn’t watching, hmm?”
Cap sighed. He had pulled his cowl back, but still wore his chainmail. His shield was leaning against the communications hub, never far away. It was like an extension of his body and he didn’t feel completely comfortable if he was separated from it for long.
He honestly didn’t know what to make of this. From the disappointing session at the Capital that morning to this news from Tony, something was seriously wrong. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but he felt like there was an agenda at play here. He just couldn’t connect the dots. Not enough of them had come into focus yet.
“How do you want to handle this?” Cap finally asked.
“With a dream team of lawyers that will make them cry for their mommies.” Tony huffed. “I don’t have time for this. I have all of these Von Doom radiation variables at play out here, A.I.M. thinking that they can just do whatever the hell they feel like, and Bill gave me his resignation.”
“Bill Foster? He’s leaving your company?”
“Yeah, but it’s okay. He has a great opportunity. I was going to counter the offer, but apparently he has this thing called ‘integrity.’”
“Go figure.”
“Yep. I might just get me some myself one of these days.” Tony’s look turned somber. “Look, Steve. Watch yourself out there, okay?”
“Same to you, friend. The Avengers will deal with this like they always do – together and above board.”
“Sure. But what about when the other team isn’t playing as fair as you are?”
Before Cap could answer, Tony signed off and the screen went dark. Cap’s mouth was left hanging open, because it was a question that Tony had put to him many times before. Where exactly was the moral high ground these days? Cap often felt like certain positions were immovable, but Tony always had a valid counterpoint.
“Knock, knock!” someone behind him said. He turned to see Janet step into the room. She said, “You look like you need a drink.”
“A beer wouldn’t kill me,” he responded.
Janet looked surprised. “Really? I thought I was going to have to twist your arm.”
Cap picked up his shield. “Social interaction is essential to core team building.”
Now it was Janet’s turn for her mouth to hang open. After a pause, she said, “…of course you would say that. C’mon. Bobby is already in the rec room.”
The mansion that the X-Men called home was both a tribute to gothic architecture and modern technology. It had become a perfect blending of yesteryear design and nextgen science, from the hard wood paneling and archways to the biometrics lab and Danger Room. While the X-Men were costumed adventurers, they weren’t superheroes. Not really. They certainly thrived throughout the superhero community, but at their very center they were activists, humanitarians, and futurists, which was why their headquarters also doubled as a school for gifted youngsters.
Janet led Cap through the mansion, past several converted dorm rooms, one of the kitchens, and into what he assumed was a teacher’s lounge. All of it was furnished in exquisite detail, even putting Jarvis’ caretaking to shame. The Avengers’ mansion was similar in fashion, but not to this aristocratic degree.
One the far room of the lounge, Janet tapped in a security code, which opened the next doorway. She ushered Steve into the X-Men’s recreational room, a step beyond the teacher’s only lounge. This place was only accessible by the X-Men themselves and their honored guests. It seemed to have something for everyone – an arcade machine, a bar, a big screen TV, a pool table, and even several large bookshelves filled with paperbacks.
“Cap!” Bobby Drake, the chilling Iceman, exclaimed as they entered the room. He was busy racking up a high score on the arcade machine. “What can I get you? Hey, how about that training exercise today, huh? That’s the last time I get in front of Karnak. I’d hate to be on his bad side. Tell me something; is he always so Undertaker? I mean, the guy is pretty cold, you know? So, about that drink? You’re a Coors man, right? No, I know. Budweiser. Yeah. All you old school guys drink Bud.”
Cap raised an eyebrow. While Bobby Drake tended to be on the more carefree side, he didn’t usually ramble like this. With a chance to get a word in, Cap finally said, “Whatever you have is fine.”
“Right. Cool. Cool.” Iceman hit the buttons on the arcade machine a few more times before stepping away to the small refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of beer for the Captain, offering it to him with his right hand.
He then stepped back and created a basketball-sized snowball that he spun on his right index finger. He looked like a frozen Globetrotter as he slid the giant snowball up his forearm, bounced it off his elbow, and again balanced it on his fingertip. “Next time I get to pick the team exercise,” Iceman said, smiling. “Something a little more sporty.”
Cap raised his bottle slightly in thanks, and tipped it back for a small gulp. The beer was refreshing, he had to admit. He didn’t typically drink, but earning his stripes in various army camps throughout Europe in the 40s had instilled in him a sense of the comradery shared over a quick drink. That train of thought was what why he had brought his small Avengers contingent to the X-Men’s home in the first place.
Behind him, Wasp closed the door, tapped in the security code to engage the lock, and said, “Steve…what’s going on with the East Coast branch these days?”
“How do you mean?” Cap replied.
“I mean, what can you tell us about these NEXT kids that Stark has been bankrolling? Some kind of talent pool, right?”
Cap raised an eyebrow. “You wrote the memo to the reserve members,” he stated. “Do you mean you want an update on their progress?”
“Yeah. An update. Give us an update,” Iceman said. He feigned shooting the giant snowball into an imaginary hoop, instead allowing it to just softly puff into a tiny flurry of snow that fell to the floor.
Cap stared at Iceman for a moment and then tossed his bottle to the mutant, startling him, but he caught it easily enough in his right hand. Iceman glared quizzically at Cap for a second before saying, “Ah, crap. He knows.”
Yellow color flashed behind Cap, but he had already started to move. Wasp’s sting struck him in the shoulder, which hurt like hell, but he was relatively fine. He whipped around and slung his shield at Wasp, striking her in the chest and slamming her into the sealed doorway.
He realized his error as soon as his back was to Iceman. The pain in his shoulder vanished as Iceman hit him with a freezing blast, numbing not just his injury, but also his entire torso. In half a second he was encased in ice from the neck down, struggling just to breath. The ice was constricting and gnawing at him, the cold forcing the air from his lungs.
“Damn it!” Wasp shouted as she sat up and struggled to stand. “That hurt! God, I cannot wait to gut this guy.”
“W-who are you?” Captain America demanded, forcing the words out despite his drastically lowering body temperature.
Wasp rubbed her collarbone, which was already forming a dark bruise. “Janet Van Dyne, darling. But on my world, I’m not called Wasp – I’m called Killer Bee.”
“Don’t get too close,” Iceman said as he stepped around the front of the incapacitated Cap. “If he’s anything like the American he’s still dangerous.”
Killer Bee shot Iceman an annoyed look, then refocused on Cap. “How did you know, Frostbite? What gave us away?” she asked.
“Your odd questions,” Cap replied, “and Bobby Drake is left-handed.”
Killer Bee smacked Iceman on the shoulder. “Idiot,” she said. “How could you be so stupid? That’s a rookie mistake.”
“Hey, you’re the one that was asking about stuff that you’re already supposed to know!” Frostbite shot back. “That’s against the C.O.D.E. The American is going to punish you for a mistake like that.”
“Save it, Frosty,” Killer Bee retorted. “We’ll see who he punishes. Get a secure channel up.”
Frostbite grimaced, but did as he was told. Cap shivered, trying his best to focus as his body temperature rapidly dropped. He watched the pseudo-Iceman reach for the console beside the bar, type in the access code, and make a secured video call. Which was impossible. He was sure they were imposters of some kind. Dopplegangers. Nearly perfect, save for a few small details.
They could be shapeshifters of some kind, which he had dealt with before. But this Frostbite seemed to know the access code, which he knew from experience was changed daily. That meant they had inside information, likely from the source. As dangerous as this Killer Bee and Frostbite appeared, wherever the real Wasp and Iceman were had to be even more dangerous. If they were even still alive.
“Hurry up,” Killer Bee said as she anxiously looked at the door. “This place is crawling with mutant brats.”
“Keep your wings on,” Frostbite shot back. “There we go! Reporting in, sir. We have Rogers contained.”
Cap was struggling beneath the ice. It was so thick and dense that it felt like it was putting pressure on his lungs, but he kept fighting. He started to feel his hand move, possibly from the friction or maybe just from sheer will and determination. Cap couldn’t see the screen from the way he had been facing when Frostbite had encased him, but his heart skipped a beat when he heard the voice reply. He was shocked, because the voice coming through the speaker was his own.
“Are you sure?” the voice said. “All reports indicate that he is not to be underestimated.”
Frostbite glanced back over his own frozen shoulder and said, “Yeah, I’m sure. He’s a popsicle. We’re checking in per your orders, sir.”
“Show him to me,” the voice said.
Killer Bee wrapped her arms around the block of ice that encased Captain America, struggling to twist him to face the screen. When she finally did, Cap was chilled beyond what the ice could do to him.
Centered in the screen was his exact image, a face he knew so well due to seeing it in the mirror every morning, even down to the slight scar on his chin that he had received from the Red Skull years ago. The only difference in his appearance was his cowl, which was black and pulled back off his blond hair.
“Remarkable,” the man on the screen said. “I’ve been studying you from afar, but to see you like this…truly remarkable.”
“What are you?” Cap demanded. “Another of the Skull’s clones?”
“The Skull?” The other Steve Rogers’ brow wrinkled as if to consider the question. Then, a laugh. “Of course. That would make sense to you, wouldn’t it? Much easier to accept that I’m some knock-off clone then the real thing. But I assure you, Captain America, that I am quite real. A greater American than you could ever be, and I aim to make that painfully evident very soon.”
“The Avengers will—”
Now it was Frostbite who laughed. “That name still makes me want to puke!” the mutant spat out. “Avengers! It sounds like a kid made it up for a comic book. Look, I’m sure that where you come from it’s all rainbows and sunshine, and the good guys always win, but I mean, just look around you.” He motioned around the empty room, and then pointed directly at Killer Bee, who sneered. “Does it look like your little hero squad is coming anytime soon?”
“Hell, you have no idea how many of us have already infiltrated your ranks,” Killer Bee added.
“Bee!” the man on the screen chided.
“Infiltrated?” Cap muttered. His hand could now wiggle just a little more. “How many of you are there?”
The man sighed. “Let me ask you this, Captain. Over the last few months, have you found that your hands have been tied? That running to the rescue as a precious Avenger is no longer such a cavalier thing? That your allies have become closed off and unresponsive?”
Cap allowed no emotion on his face, but internally he was straining. Could it be true?
The troubles in Washington…
Tony’s bureaucratic nightmare…
T’Challa’s recent attitude shift…
Luke Cage’s radio silence…
Were they even linked, or was he being paranoid? He had to get out, had to warn someone. Anyone. But who? He had been standing in the room with two perfect dopplegangers and had no idea until it was too late. How many other people that he trusted had been compromised, replaced, and were in danger?
“On our world, I would have you put in a public stockade and tried you openly for your crimes against my New World Order,” the other Rogers said. “And it may come to that. Once I move onto the final phase of my C.O.D.E., you’ll see that everything you hold in high regard will come under my control. Soon enough, Captain America. With my own ally guiding the course of this campaign, I can promise you that much.”
Before Cap could retort, the image changed, and another familiar face flashed onto the screen, although this one still had a mask in place. A solid purple, it covered his head completely, but somehow the menace of his facial features showed through.
“Zemo,” Cap said through ground teeth.
“Good afternoon, Captain,” Baron Zemo stated. “What a pleasure it is to see you brought to your knees before me once again.”
“How did you—”
“Survive? Yes, what a fool you are to assume that Zemo did not have a plan in place should I nearly meet my demise. Have you not learned by now, Captain, that I am your superior in every way?”
The screen split, showing the other Rogers and Zemo on the same feed. The man with Cap’s face said, “Our alliance has circumvented virtually every global order on your planet. We have agents in place from the lowest recesses of your government to the top of your so-called heroes’ organizations. My campaign to conquer your world has been underway for months, and you were non the wiser.”
“So, tell us, Captain,” Zemo said. “With your opposite and your superior working side by side, what hope could you possibly still have? Finally, I will see you submit, Rogers!”
“When do we get to turn on the rest of the school?” Killer Bee, a hunger in her voice. “You should see these bratty kids all over the place, just begging to be put in line.”
“All in good time,” the other Rogers said. “First, meet with the others on campus and bring him to us. I want Steve Rogers secured in the Watchtower immediately. Do not, I repeat, do not reveal yourselves.”
“If you fail,” Zemo added, “it will cost you your lives.”
“You got it, boss,” Frostbite said. “Any chance I can—” The screen went blank. “Oookay. And I thought I was the one with the cold shoulder.”
“Ice him over completely,” Killer Bee said. “I’ll get a portable hologram projector from the Danger Room and mask him as a sculpture. If anyone asks, we can say we’re just moving it around to make room out in their little tribute garden.”
As soon as she turned away, Cap finally had enough leverage from the constant tensing of his arm muscles burst his right side free of the ice. Huge chunks exploded out into the lounge, and Frostbite ducked beneath one and readied a shot at his quarry, but he had made the mistake of standing within arm’s reach. Cap slapped his fist back, catching the mutant across the jaw, and all of the hero’s will had been backed by the super-soldier serum coursing through his veins. Frostbite whipped around from the strike and slammed into the wall.
“Goddammit!” Killer Bee shouted as she rounded on Cap, her vicious stings ready to let loose.
But Captain America smashed his free hand down onto the ice covering his own chest, finally erupting completely free. She was showered with shards of sharp ice, unable to keep herself from flinching, and her stings went wide, completely missing their intended targets. Without hesitation, Cap flung himself at her, spinning and sweeping his heel across her face. She whirled into a couch, was flung over, and cracked her forehead on the coffee table.
Frostbite was halfway up, the ice armor around his face now cracked and falling away. The Captain spun around and drove his other fist straight down into Frostbite’s nose, dropping him with a heavy thud.
They wouldn’t be down for long, but at least they were down. He had a decision to make. He knew from listening to them that the entire campus hadn’t been turned, or infiltrated, or whatever they were up to. But he didn’t know who he could trust. He might try and find help, but he was doubting his chances of avoiding anyone else that was no longer who they said they were.
He scooped up his shield, and against his better judgement, he ran. He kicked open the door, dashed down the hallway, and slipped out one of the side exits. He had been here often enough to know the campus layout. From there he would skirt across the hedges on the south lawn, leap over the security wall, and head for the city.
After that…he wasn’t sure what his next move would be. The Avengers had been comprised. He needed to get help, locate this American that wore his face, and put an end to this. But who?
Who could he trust?
TO BE CONTINUED!