The Ultimates In…
ULTIMATE H.Y.D.R.A
Prologue
George Harlin, 42, window cleaner, stood on his platform, stationed on the Empire State Building, sweating in the heat of midsummer, as he worked at a pane of glass. George was, despite the work, in a tremendously good mood. He had finally bought the ring; he was going to propose to Liz tonight. George hummed a tune, Deep Purple's Smoke on the Water. He couldn't wait to get home; to… screams.
George Harlin, 42, window cleaner, turned slowly. Something, blurred and fiery, was rocketing at the skyscraper. George Harlin didn't even have time to scream before he was blasted apart, along with so many more innocents!
Captain Steve Rogers, Captain America, stood among the wreckage, head bowed. He clicked the straps of his trademark helmet together and stared over at General Nick Fury, director of the Strategic Hazards Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate- S.H.I.E.L.D- and the founder and commander of the Ultimates, the U.S.A's Superhuman Defence Initiative squad.
Rogers sighed thoughtfully as Iron Man, billionaire playboy Anthony Stark, jetted over to him on his boot thrusters.
"Well, old boy," Began Stark, "Dr. Richards and I reckon it was some kind of prototype missile… and Fury's worried. Worried in a knowledgeable way if you know what I mean."
"You mean…?"
"I mean I think it was a S.H.I.E.L.D missile… something stolen, and… I found just the thing. I hacked into the database with Richards' help and, lo an' behold, such a missile went missing… during the Liberator incident."
Cap's eyes opened wide in shock:
"Oh my God…"