Mitchell Tanner is back in Afghanistan; he's running alongside his men, bullets flying everywhere as he finds cover in the abandoned building. One of his men warns him of the insurgent with the rocket launcher. He tries to get out the window, but the blast sends him falling to the street below. Then he wakes up in a cold sweat, sitting up in a hospital bed, gasping for air with his wheelchair resting quietly beside him. His Asian American girlfriend, Liu, wakes up in the chair beside him.

"Another bad dream, Mitchell?," she asks thoughtfully.

"Don't worry about it," he sits back in bed, "Just go back to sleep."

She leans over to kiss him, "It'll be alright, Mitch."

He pulls away, "Just go back to sleep."

"Please talk to me. You've been like this ever since you started rehab. I'm trying to help but I don't know what you need. I can't live like this."

He turns over bitterly, "No one's asking you to."

Liu stands up, tears in her eyes, "I'll see you when you get out." She gathers her things and leaves the room. Tanner, meanwhile, closes his eyes tightly in an attempt to put his mind and body to rest.

The next morning, a nurse wheels him out of the hospital. He is in uniform now, looking as dignified as he can. An older man in full military regalia meets him outside. Tanner salutes him with a professional, "Major Barrington, sir". "At ease," the man tells him with a smile, "It's good to see you're healthy, Tanner. We were rooting for you."

"Thank you, sir."

The major leads Tanner through the parking lot, "I'm sorry to hear about your last tour in Afghanistan. You're a fine solider, Tanner. You saved a lot of lives that day. It's too bad you were discharged."

"The use of my legs is just a small price to pay, Major Barrington. My only regret is that I will no longer be able to serve."

"I don't know about that. If I have my way, you'll be on the frontlines as soon as possible."

"Sir?"

"There's a reason why I came out to see you. The brass has recently become aware of technology, allowing people to become stronger and healthier and they believe this process can cure injuries, including paralysis. It would revolutionize the way we fight wars and take care of our own, so they're looking for a few test subjects and I let them know about your situation. They agreed to give you a chance."

"You mean, I could get my legs back?"

"Maybe. We need to talk to a man by the name of Noah Burstein first but otherwise, you're clear to go."

"Sir, I...," Tanner begins to smile.

"Don't go thanking me just yet," Barrington begins, "I'm interested in getting you out of that wheelchair. I've known you since you were stationed in Syria under my command. You're one of our finest soldiers and I intend to get you back in the field. You've done this nation proud and it... upsets me to think that you would be forced into that chair for the rest of your life when the chance of a lifetime is waiting for you. Now, we don't know if the process will work, mind you."

"That's not a problem, sir."

"And I'm not sure what this Dr. Burstein will have to say about the program."

"I'm willing to try, sir."

"Well, then let's see if we can't get you some new legs."

Jessica Jones sits down at a table in a restaurant, "Sorry, I'm late." she says as she leans over and kisses Luke Cage. Cage settles into his chair, "No problem. I know you're busy. Hope you don't mind me ordering for us." The restaurant is small and low-key. A few elderly people sit scattered around the place as waitresses serve them coffee or pie.

"No, I don't mind," Jessica tells him, "So how was your case? Did you find the kid you were looking for?"

"Yeah, I found `im. Brought him back to his folks."

"Did you accept payment this time?"

"No,... but they had me stay for dinner."

"Carl -"

"I legally changed my name, remember," he reminds her.

"Luke, I know you just want to do the right thing but you have to get paid sometime. See if the police need a bounty hunter, or something."

"The cops were under fire for hiring a former convict. They don't need my services anymore. Besides, the crime rate has been going down in New York since last year. Things are quieter."

"And it's because of you. You've done a lot for this city and you don't have a penny to show for it. All that fame and money you once had has dried up. It's just not fair."

"I know, but what can I do? I'd feel like a punk if I accepted money from the hard working folks I'm helping. They're trying to get by too."

"I know, and you're a better man for it," the waitress comes over and sets plates of food in front of them, "Thank you," she tells the waitress before continuing, "Why don't you try something else on the side? Y'know, I talked to Noah Burstein the other day."

"Really? How's he doing?"

"He's doing great. He's in the process of refining his nanobot technology. You should pay him a visit. Maybe he could use your help in the lab."

The next day, Empire State University...

Nothing much has changed on campus. Burstein's lab, however, has been upgraded with better equipment now that he has become even more respected in the science field. He leans over a microscope, adjusting it until he sees a nanobot under the slide. This new bot is silver and sleaker than the ones used to create Luke Cage. Burstein looks away from the microscope at the glass vial next to him, which is filled with a silver, metallic substance. The door to his lab slides open and Major Barrington enters the room.

"Professor Noah Burstein, correct?," he asks.

"I am," Burstein stands up and shakes his hand, "And you are...?"

"Major James Barrington. US Special Forces. I apologize for coming unannounced but I've heard of your research and decided to make a personal visit."

"Uh, well I have some time. What can I do for you?"

"Your research in nanotechnology has raised quite a few eyebrows in the Pentagon. Apparently, you can restore damaged cells, making them good as new. As I understand it, this process you've created can even bring someone back from paralysis."

"Ideally, yes. We are still in the development stage."

"From what I hear, Luke Cage was given the same treatment. It's the reason he's as strong and tough as he is today."

"Well,... yes but that wasn't the desired result. Since that time, I've gone back to formula and recreated the nanobots, hopefully eliminating the chance to gain superpowers," he says with a laugh.

Barrington frowns in disappointment, "I see. Well, one of our best men has recently been severly injured in Afghanistan. He's in a wheelchair now and we're hoping to find a way to get him to walk again."

"I'd love to help you. I mean, that is essentially what this process is for but at the moment, I'm still a few years away from the point where I can safely use human test subjects," he motions toward the glass vial on his desk, "As of right now, I'm not sure of the -"

Barrington quickly cuts him off as he walks toward the door of the lab, "The solider is actually with me today. I'd like you to meet him," he opens the door and Mitchell Tanner enters in his wheelchair. "This is Mitchell Tanner. He's been a special forces op for years. Before that, he was a field agent for the CIA. The guy's a real warhawk!"

"A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Burstein," Tanner shakes his hand, "The Major tells me you can fix my legs."

"Uh,... Maybe. In time. I'm sorry gentlemen, but this technology is simply not ready yet."

"Not ready?," Barrington laughs, "This turned some prison convict into a superhero! I'd say it was ready."

"Luke Cage could have died from the overdose of nanos he recieved," Burstein becomes slightly agitated, "He's lucky he survived at all. His superhuman strength and durability was just an unfortunate side effect."

"Unfortunate?," Tanner speaks up, "Seems pretty goddamn fortunate to me! The man is bulletrepoof!"

"Yes. Bulletpoof," Barrington repeats the word, "Dr. Burstein, have you any idea how much the US military would pay for bulletrpoof soldiers?"

Burstein glares at him, "Major, I am not in the business of making soldiers. I am in the business of curing ailments."

"Even if I don't get strong or whatever, just the chance to walk again would be worth it," Tanner growls.

"And that is the sort of thing I'm willing to help you do," Burstein pleads, "I just need you to give me some time."

"Listen, Burstein, we simply want to keep our fighting men and women fit for active duty," Barrington changes his tone, "They have a country to defend."

"It almost seems to me that you want to create super soldiers," then he turns to Tanner, "Mr. Tanner, how long have you been discharged from active duty?"

"About three months."

"You're probably barely out of rehab," he exclaims.

"So?"

"Even if the process was ready, the physical strain would be great. Not to mention... the possible psychological effects. I'm sure what you went through was very traumatic and -"

"You're a scientist, not a shrink," Barrington barks, "Come on, Tanner. Let's leave the good doctor alone. Maybe he'll come to his senses later." Barrington leaves the lab. Tanner stays behind for a moment, glaring at Burstein before following. The scientist sits uneasily in a chair. As Barrington and Tanner pass down the hall, they stop when they see Luke Cage coming from the opposite direction.

"Luke Cage, correct?," Barrington asks.

"Yeah?"

"You're a very fortunate man, Mr. Cage," Barrington sneers as he passes. Cage looks at him, perplexed and then notices Tanner trailing behind who glares at him. Cage shakes his head in bewilderment and continues toward Burstein's lab. He enters with a broad smiles, "Hey, professor. What's up?" Burstein rises ot his feet, now with a smile, "Carl. Good to see you. Wait, I guess you're going strictly by Luke Cage now."

"Yeah, I thought I might as well keep the name. Thought it would be good for business."

"Was it?"

"Nah," he laughs then motions toward the hall, "By the way, I just got the stink-eye from two guys out there. Were they friends of yours?"

"No, they were with the military. They wanted to use my nanos to heal the man in the wheelchair."

"Is the stuff ready?," Cage leans in, exaiming the vial on the desk.

"Unfortunately, not. They didn't want to wait. In fact, I got the distinct impression the major wanted to use the same process that gave you powers. Apparently, healing the man wasn't enough. He needed another Luke Cage."

"One of me is more than enough," Cage jokes, "Makes me a little concerned, though. Are you sure this stuff won't give people weird powers if it's misused?

"I've done my best to avoid anymore hiccups. This batch isn't as powerful as the last. Hopefully, it won't attract any more attention from people looking to turn it into a weapon."

"That's good. We know what happens when this stuff gets into the wrong hands."

"That, we do."