"You want me to do what sir?" I say, standing up from my desk. "Sir!" I follow Nick Fury out of my office as he coolly waltzes out of it.
"I thought the assignment was quite clear," he says, barley giving me a backwards glance.
"You want me to recreate a 1940's hospital room?" I say. "Exactly why, sir, do you need me to do that?"
"Dr. Litz," he says, finally coming to a stop. Director Fury turns to stare me down, easy with his six-foot-two stature towering over my five-foot-five stature. "I need you to do it because you are the historical specialist. So…get to designing and quick." I raise an eyebrow at him as he turns away from me and starts to walk away once again. "I need it done by tomorrow at noon."
"What?"
oOoOo
"When is this from?" the agent asks me, handing me the small drive.
"Um—May, 1941," I say, crossing the recording of the baseball game off my list. I look around the small room…pleasantly satisfied. It genuinely looks like a recovery room straight out of the 1940's. "Fury should give me a bonus for this," I mumble under my breath.
"I've already talked to accounting about it," I hear behind me. I turn around to see the Director standing in the doorway.
"Glad you like it sir," I say, hugging my clipboard to my chest. "Care to tell me what this is for?"
He draws in a breath, holds it for a moment, and then finally releases it. "Follow me," he says. I obey and follow him out of the large box that contained the hospital room. We walk to edge of the large room until Fury comes to a stop. "I assume that you've heard of Steve Rogers?"
I raise an eyebrow at him. "Captain Steve Rogers?" I ask for clarification. He nods his head slightly as I rack my brain. "Born July 4, 1920, spent most of his childhood and teens in and out of hospitals, denied for military service multiple times during World War 2 until-"
"A simple 'yes' would have sufficed," Fury says, narrowing his eye at me. I shrug one of my shoulders as he continues. "I assume that you also know he disappeared in 1944." I nod my head before he continues. "We found him."
I'm sure my eyes pop out of my head. "You—you've what?"
"He's on his way here, now." He says, continuing on. "ETA is five minutes."
"Sir, woah, hold on a second," I say, waving a hand and my clipboard in the air. "Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America is on his way here…now? And he's alive?"
"Yes-"
"And the room is to…" I say, gazing back towards the make-shift room. "To what…not shock him that he's waking up in 2011?" I look back at Fury who is staring at me with a steel expression. "Sir…you know that's a horrible idea, right?"
"If you are done, Dr. Litz," he says, ignoring my comment. "I'd appreciate it if you hung around and talked the agent that will be posing as a nurse through it. Give her info if Captain Rogers starts asking questions."
"Yes sir," I say with a sigh. As he walks away, I let out a puff of air. This has got to be his dumbest idea…ever. I walk back over to the box and go inside the room, fixing last details.
"Dr. Litz," I hear a few minutes later. I turn around to see a hard-faced agent looking at me. "Captain Rogers is here if the room is ready."
"Yeah, we're good to go," I say, nodding my head. I switch on the radio, the sound of the baseball game filling the small room. I press a button on a remote causing a light breeze to come into the room and the sounds of cars passing by start as well. When I turn towards the door, I see four agents carry a body in on a stretcher. He was massive. Not in a way that would stop people in the streets, but big enough to be set apart from other men. But there he was, Steve Rogers in the flesh…right in front of me. I watch as the men transfer him to the bed and then leave. Once they leave, a couple people in white lab coats walk in. "What are y'all doing?" I ask.
"Removing his sedative," the older doctor says. After the i.v. I hadn't noticed is removed, she turns to look at me. "He should wake up in the next few minutes."
"Okay," I say with a nod. "Everyone out then. It's show time."
oOoOo
I stood outside the room, holding a tablet that was streaming live video feed from inside the room. Steve Rogers still lay on the bed unconscious, and had been that way for ten minutes. "Few minutes my butt," I mumble under my breath. I try and zoom in on his face, watching for signs of him to wake up. I strived to use as little technology as possible...I wasn't very good at it. Half a minute later, his eye lids start to flutter. "Alright, he's starting to come to," I say. I look up towards the agent that was dressed as if she could've stepped right out of 1944. "On my signal you can go in." She nods her head as I watch Captain Rogers again, watching him as he sits up, looks around the room, then slowly makes his way to the edge of the bed. I motion for the agent to go in, seeing her appear on the screen a moment later.
"Good morning." The agent's cool voice says. "Or should I say, afternoon."
'Where am I?" The captain's voice says, full of authority.
"You're in a recovery room in New York City." She replies.
His eyes narrow slightly. "Where am I really?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand." The agent replies, her voice staying steady. Crap, crap, crap, I think, he's not buying it.
"The game, it's from May, 1941. I know, cause I was there." Steve says, looking at the agent. Anger was filling his face as he slowly stands up from the bed. "Now, I'm gonna ask you again. Where am I?"
"Captain Rogers-"
My head snaps up as two of the agents dressed in full swat gear make to enter the room.
"Who are you?" Captain Rogers yells as the agents enter the room. Before anyone can calm him down, Rogers knocks both the agents back against the wall.
"Captain Rogers, wait!" The woman agent inside yells. As I look up to the entrance of the room, all I see is a chunk of plaster coming straight at me...then black.