Different Stuff, Same Day
ComiCon 2013, Meadowlands Exposition Center, Secaucas, New Jersey, March 2, 2013
Author's Notes: And now for the conclusion of this ARC. And a glimpse of the NEW FACE OF PURE FUCKING EVIL. Because Satan needs competition.
As a trigger warning (since I see people do this and I probably should too) I have subtly mentioned that Jess and Doreen's time under HYDRA wasn't merely sunshine and flowers. Besides having their brains sucked out, gassed with Terragenesis, experimented on, tortured, shot at, and hit with minor WMDs (chemical weapons), they were also molested and raped. This will be mentioned later on in this chapter.
Jennifer Susan Walters, Esq. (CEO, Avengers) stepped out of the blacked-out 2013 Lincoln Navigator being driven by Harold 'Happy' Hogan approximately an hour after the 'Medusa' broadcast had been delivered. It was almost impossible to enter into the Meadowlands parking lot thanks to the plethora of various law enforcement jurisdictions now populating the area, from Newark, to the State Police, to the Federal Bureau of Investigations, and even the Department of Homeland Security (which was a surprise considering how gutted they were after the Second American Civil War). It was a full-on circus with a growing population of people coming to a ComiCon naturally, more coming in thanks to social media flooding the internet with tens of thousands of videos and posts in the past sixty minutes or so, the chance to see the Avengers, and the nature of people who like rubbernecking an incident. The police were there, the fire department was there, the ambulances were there, the public was there, and most certainly the media was there. There was at least twenty vans representing just about every letter in the alphabet in some way hailing from both New Jersey and New York, and surprisingly enough one of them was en Español.
"Huh, look at all that." Happy spouted out as he closed the door behind Jenn, his sunglasses taking it all in as a professional security agent should. "It's not too late to drive right to the front gate like a rock star, boss."
"And deny the paparazzi their day in the sun with distant photos and even more distant speculations?" Walters asked with an impish smile as she straightened her suit single-handedly, and then remembered she didn't need to do that anymore. She was thankfully out of her casts, and just a few days ago she had undergone minor surgery to have the external brace removed from her right hand and suture close the holes in her hand. Yes, her hand was in a protective brace, but she could remove it for showering, bathing, or her new physical therapy. X-rays showed her carpel bones were now in place, and Magnetic Resonate Imaging showed that the soft tissues were still intact and appeared to be in the correct locations. So now it was physical therapy for the next three months to make sure Jenn got as much mobility and use back out of her hand as she once had. In all honesty, she was just glad to see the damn brace go. She was still trying to get over doing everything one-handed, though. Happy had been out of commission too thanks to Advanced Idea Mechanics before Christmas, but thankfully the man had bounced back after spending a week in a hospital. He had been her driver and go-to man for the past couple months whenever she was needed out of the Tower, being partially disabled the way she was. "What involves one involves all, Happy."
"I heard that. Let's go check up on our folks." Happy replied as together they walked towards the Meadowlands Exposition Center, Jenn seeing banners and memorabilia proclaiming it to be ComiCon. As she walked to the building surrounded by a throng of people and protected by yellow 'CAUTION' tape, it as all Jenn could do not to think of the alert that had come across an hour prior over her phone as well as everyone else's; the alarm had been sounded. The heralding of a HYDRA attack on an Avenger or Avengers was more than enough for everyone to drop everything that they were doing and suit up or just plain charge right into wherever.
Jenn had been in her apartment working on hand exercises while Kamala Khan and James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes had gone out for a part of the day, the young woman conning the veteran to go shopping (the lawyer knew it was likely for her upcoming birthday) when the alert had rang out not only over her iStark cell phone, but the entirety of the penthouse suite of Avengers Tower itself. Hearing who had given the alarm and seeing who was involved thanks to their own iStark cell phones in close proximity had Jenn on a warpath, getting location, availability, and security status of her people through JARVIS while calling out the immediate response team that would head right to the alert location; the Meadowlands Exposition Center.
The big worry was that the attack was a feint or a push, which was why Walters had only three of the Avengers sent to the Meadowlands while getting a vocal and video confirmation through their phones (to see everyone's eye color) and have them rally at either the Tower or their fallback location at their off-site location forty miles or so north in Whitehall Corners, New York that use to be a Stark Industries depot back in the Seventies and was now used as a contingency spot. Jenn had sent her daughter Jessica Drew, Colonel James Rhodes, and Hope van Dyne to the Meadowlands for immediate response and assessment while Captain Steve Rogers and Tony Stark got everyone else together and ready to be sent wherever needed while Jenn finalized the completion of everyone else's location and safety with Jessica Jones (who had been in a meeting with her sister Trish Walker and had put her phone on vibrate). Thankfully, the Meadowlands wasn't far, and Jenn had sent three of their five fliers for their speed, mobility, and abilities. While Tony hadn't been thrilled not to be sent out, Jenn had told him why; HYDRA was well-known for their technological abilities, and he might have to make something on-the-spot to thwart any kind of potential weapon they might bring to take any one of them down. The QuinJet was ready to to deploy at a moments' notice with their newly-hired pilot Lieutenant Commander Benjamin Stone (whom everyone just called 'Grim' after his callsign) at the helm ready to go for deployment.
Jess, Rhodey, and Hope had landed at the Meadowlands not elbow-deep into a fracas, but to a victory where four people had triumphed over not only HYDRA, but the Mandarin as well.
An hour later, Jennifer Walters was arriving on-site with several of the other Avengers discretely showing up (just in case) to deal with the fallout and ramifications of what sounded to be a hostage situation, a terror plot, a kidnapping attempt, a few shootings and unfortunately a couple of deaths… and something like fifty-six captured members of HYDRA and the re-capture of Trevor Benjamin Slattery. Not so surprisingly, she wasn't the only nominal leader of a group of superheroes to show up, either.
"Miss Walters, good to see you once more." A friendly and familiar feminine voice called from past the police line where caution tape and police barricades kept the curious and the media at bay where Jenn spied a redheaded woman in a government-styled suit standing within the containment zone, directing a New Jersey State Trooper to admit both her and Happy inside.
"Special Agent Jones." Jenn greeted Special Agent Angelica Marilyn 'Angel' Jones, a part of the Federal Bureau of Investigation's special response team known as the Department of Enhanced Individuals, or just simply the Varsity. They shook hands (Angel being gentle about it) as she beckoned for both Jenn and Happy to follow her. Jenn had helped create the Varsity along with Director Marcus Summers to give the American Government a plausible force in case of an incident or attack, but mostly along the lines of investigations, protection, prosecution, and enforcement for enhanced individuals. The Varsity was only about three or so months old and was populated with FBI Agents, former SHIELD Agents, and a few former fettered members of HYDRA, some enhanced, some not. "How are things looking?"
"This was an absolute shitshow that dodged the proverbial bullet. Only ten people died, and nine of them were HYDRA." The woman known as Phoenix relayed as she led the both of them towards the Expo Center. "That Mandarin cocksucker executed a man right on the main stage at the get-go to draw the crowd into a frenzy when he took hostages, and shot another in the back, but surprisingly she's supposedly in critical-but-stable condition right now. There were a few others shot by HYDRA employing some crowd control, but EMT's were here pretty quick and were able to transport them to Regency Hospital and into the ER's. Still a bit early to tell, but the hospital seems hopeful." It was a sad thing when someone felt the need to make their will known through force, innocents got caught in the crossfire, sometimes proverbial, sometimes actual. "The HYDRA goon squad is mostly guys who weren't at the Trisk as well as being outside of DC during the Uprising, so we never had a chance to nab them when the squid lost and they jumped onto the first thing smoking. But a couple of them are re-captures or were at either the Trisk or ONI but managed to squirrel away. One name you're going to love."
"Who."
"Jack Rollins." Jones said as she reached the front door to the exposition center, Happy opening it for the ladies before the FBI Agent could. Lieutenant Commander Rollins had been former STRIKE Team DELTA and a former Navy SEAL; SHIELD's go-to for any kind of shadow strike, tactical insertion, rescue mission, or retrieval mission. On top of that, he had also been responsible for HYDRA's little missions such as killing several potential leaks, data thieves, baulkers, and blackmailers before the squid sent the big guns; the Winter Soldier. He had also been in the Khan household when Kamala's parents had been executed (Jess had overheard that conversation while fettered), and his escape had technically killed Maria Hill when a fat fuck FBI Agent tased her in the medulla oblongata to break Jack out of the Detention Camp SHIELD and the Avengers ran in the days after the Civil War. Jenn entered into the Meadowlands with Angel walking by her side. "While I'm sure Ares wants to play street hockey with his internal organs, God knows I want to," Walters didn't needed to be told why; she knew already, "Doreen went and did something… appropriate."
"How bad?" Jenn asked as evenly as possible. Both her daughter Jessica and Doreen had eventually gone over a great many details of their capture, detainment, fettering, and imprisonment in HYDRA and all that the organization had done to them. The lawyer knew that it was a damn hard step to take to recount such things, and she was under no illusion what HYDRA had done to them. Or Angel, either.
"Does the name 'Lorena Bobbitt' mean anything to you?" Jones asked sweetly, making Jenn stop in her tracks for a moment as the FBI Agent grinned. "Oh yeah, she neutered him like the dog he is. Everything was ripped off. I owe her a fruit basket." The redheads' eyes went to Happy, who pretended to be blissfully ignorant and deaf. "You should have seen the reaction on the EMT's faces when they discovered how he was injured. Well, past the fact Doreen also ripped half his collarbone out."
"Couldn't have happened to a nicer man." The capturing of HYDRA Agents had been growing increasingly difficult in the weeks and months after the Uprising thanks to political head-burying and lack of bi-partisan cooperation. Many of the positions made vacant during the Uprising (either through betrayal, injury, or death) were still gaps that needed to be filled, though most of the political ones had been addressed rather quickly. But the rank-and-file employees for the Federal Bureau of Investigations, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearm and Explosives, Department of Homeland Security, and the US Marshals were in short supply mostly due to the necessary education, requirements, and background investigation needed to have someone enter into such pedigree positions, not to mention each of those bureaus generally had a nine-week training course for acceptance, similar to that of the US Army or Marines. Jenn hadn't found it all that amusing to discover that it was easier to replace a politician than it was a common FBI Agent. A big part of the stall out for getting charges and trails for captured members of HYDRA was, sadly, due to both the political forum and the legal one, too. Many of the big wigs of HYDRA were unsurprisingly rich, many of them with good solid educations from renowned schools and years of service as lawyers, politicians, aides, attaches, and political appointees. Those ones could afford lawyers, and several defense attorneys were spouting the rhetoric of 'unfair, biased, and unconfirmed' information of membership and dealings while claiming much of the evidence was unsupported, unsubstantiated, and illegally-gained. With over a thousand active members of HYDRA detained and awaiting federal prosecution in the District of Columbia alone, trials had yet to being, and there had even been bail set for many of the more minor-charged personnel. The victory wrought by the Avengers and the true members of SHIELD at the Trisk and others outside of the Triskhelion on December 15th looked to be eroding further with every passing day thanks to the legal system. Jenn had expected a Nuremberg Trial-like season. Instead, it was beginning to look more like the OJ Simpson case before anyone had even gone to court.
In other words, it just plain fucking sucked.
"Well, I'll let Bucky and Reed tell the finer aspects of everything that happened while I finish cataloging everything, interviewing everyone, and arresting all the scum. Cap's with Kamala, and Jess is with Doreen. You might want to give them a few more minutes." Angel waved her salutations as she headed back to an area where it looked as if the FBI was partitioning everything to conduct interviews and search all the arrested suspects. Jenn just nodded as she was about to head over to where she saw Bucky Barnes when something occurred to her.
"Wait… who's Reed?"
Jessica Miriam Drew sat side-by-side with her best friend, her arm around Doctor Doreen Allene Green's shoulders and her head leaning against the auburn-haired woman's gently. When Jess had arrived at the Meadowlands within the first five or ten minutes of the alert being sounded alongside James Rhodes and Hope van Dyne (who had been riding shotgun on Rhodey's back as her miniaturized self), they had arrived to a scene of cheerful victory, a whole slue of fans and cosplayers already cheering one victory and then the arrival of more Avengers. Those first few minutes had been a bit chaotic trying to find out what was going on when everyone was asking for autographs and about thirty conversations happening at once form several dozen people with several dozen viewpoints telling Jess, Rhodey, and Hope what had happened with various levels of accuracy. Rhodey, bless his heart, had taken charge and command of the whole fiasco with a loud, authoritative voice, letting Jess and Hope comb over the men who were practically in pieces after kidnapping, a terror plot, a kidnapping attempt, bringing assault rifles into a public arena, and a whole slue of other crimes that the court system and the media was just going to love. That first ten minutes had been pandemonium hell trying to make sure none of the HYDRA Agents (or whoever else they might happened to be) were secured and ready to be arrested while checking up on the attendees of ComiCon before they could even begin to check on their people. Thankfully, the police had showed up in time to start handcuffing the HYDRA assholes before EMT's went to check on their health status (which ranged from smashed, beaten, mauled, squished, and in one special case, gelded). It seemed everyone descended upon the Meadowlands, and Jess had given the call back to her Mom that it looked that everything was over, and to send a few more people over to calm things down.
Mom sent Steve, Tony, and Nat to placate the cops and the crowds (mostly autograph and selfie duty) while Rhodey and Hope handled the Varsity as they came in to help the investigation.
Jess was sent to check up on their people.
James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes, the ninety-three year old WWII Veteran known as the Terminator thanks to his cybernetic arm and being about as tough as the iconic sci-fi role, was well enough regardless of the push from HYDRA. What had been a normal outing had gone sideways as hell, and Bucky admitted that the words had been used. Jessica only knew a little bit of that; some sort of control words that HYDRA had used on Bucky (and perhaps others) before getting the Scepter. Her sister had scoured HYDRA's database for anything pertaining to the Winter Soldier, and had surprisingly found very little. Most of the information predated computer technology, probably on paper files somewhere in God-knows-where filing cabinet wherever they kept the veteran when they wanted to modify him, brainwash him, torture him, or put him on ice. Kamala had found nothing pertaining to the control words, what would active the Winter Soldier, and at best they had hoped that anyone that had known of it was dead, captured, or on another continent. Sadly, that wasn't the case. Bucky was sporting a pair of Apple EarPods that he said her sister had made to translate Russian into English… thwarting the words. Barnes hadn't been shy at all admitting how Kamala had saved him from that particular fate, denying HYDRA their initial victory in seizing himself to kidnap Kamala.
Kamala Aisha Khan was in cloud nine, as well as she should have been. The target for HYDRA, she had thwarted the squid in a way that was now burning through the internet. The first time she had stopped them, it had been from the squid from taking over Bucky to kidnap her. Then there had been a car chase before Kamala had come up with the idea to hide in a ComiCon because they would look just like the people who were dressing up just like them. And then they went and dressed up as Avengers (Bucky as Captain America, Doreen as the Black Widow, and Kamala as Miss Marvel) to buy them time to destroy a jammer Kamala theorized was in Bucky's arm (and the teenager had been right). Everything had accumulated when the Mandarin and a whole host of HYDRA Agents had showed up and started taking hostages, forcing the Avengers out while Kamala and some kid name Reed were moments away from removing the jammer from Bucky's arm. And in true Miss Marvel fashion, Kamala had went and stole the show when the four of them showed up front-and-center to stomp squids and capture the Mandarin (after publicly denouncing him as a fake and bitchslapping him about ten feet away with a gigantic hand and super-long arm!).
Reed Nathan Richards was a name Jessica only somewhat knew of from Kamala; he had been one of Kamala's competitors back during the Tri-State Area Science Competition. The young woman had told her sister about his particular invention and how it hadn't made the cut because Reed didn't have enough microbots to really stun the judges, and any invite she had sent to reconnect with him had gone unanswered. Jessica suspected that Kamala had a bit of a kiddie crush on the young man who was obviously in the same intelligence bracket as she, but seemed disappointed in the fact that he wasn't answering. Somehow, Kamala had found Reed in ComiCon, needing tools and help for Bucky's arm, the young man agreeing to help. What was more amazing was the young man was more impressive than what Kamala had let on; he had invented some sort of small bead-like machines he called microbots to assemble engineering projects and constructions within seconds. Reed had stood alongside the Avengers when people were threatened, aiding them when they needed aid, and fought alongside them with what sounded like a tide of bead-like machines to protect, defend, attack, and capture HYDRA Agents who were threatening the Avengers and the public. Reed was just a kid, sixteen in fact, who seemed to be a bit of an introvert who most certainly had eyes for Kamala. That would be a thing for another day.
Then there was Doreen.
"Hey, boo." Jessica sat next to her best friend, seeing Doctor Doreen Allene Green's eyes rimmed red with tears, the Veterinarian obviously having been crying. The photographer could guess pretty damn well what it might be about. Well, actually she had two ideas, neither good. The nineteen-year old woman slipped her arm around Doreen's shoulders, politely ignoring that Doreen was still dressed like the Black Widow with a rather noticeable v-neck in the costume that exposed a good bit of cleavage (Doreen had never been that kind of girl, her words). "Which part do you want to talk about first?"
Doreen was silent for a moment before the auburn-haired women looked to her with reddened hazel eyes.
"I… lost it. In my weretabby form." Jessica knew what Doreen was referring to. "That fucker Jack Rollins was there, I saw him and… God, Jessica, I went feral." Jessica leaned her head upon Doreen's, knowing what the Veterinarian feared. As much as she feared and hated HYDRA (just like Jessica did), there was something else that the Doctor was more afraid of; herself. Or perhaps her altered form was more accurate. When Doreen shifted to her hybrid form, it wasn't just a physical transformation; it was mental, too. Most everyone recognized thanks to the Second American Civil War that Artemis' weretabby form included three-inch claws, a three-foot feline-like tail, short auburn-colored fur, elongated ears, long sharp cat-like teeth, incredible pouncing abilities, and the ability to run faster than even Captain America on all four limbs. Even while human, Doreen had the ability to talk to and command animals at an impressive range, and some extra physical attributes that made her a rather devastating member of the Avengers, including being bulletproof to pistol rounds, stronger than the normal man, and a reaction speed on par with a Super Soldier. There were things that the public weren't so aware about that Doreen could do that no one advertised about, including the fact that, like a cat, she went into heat once a month (thankfully, that didn't affect people), couldn't talk in her weretabby form, and mentally regressed when she shifted. The animal-lover had a dream come true but at a high cost; she was closer to the animals she adored, but became more like an animal herself in a myriad of different ways.
One of those ways being going feral when she shifted.
Doreen feared more than anything shifting into her more animal-like form… and never coming back from it.
"Doreen, you know I'm here for you, and I'll be there for you no matter what." Jessica reminded her best friend, meaning every word. Doreen had elected to face HYDRA when freed from that organization to rescue and free Jessica from their tentacles, willing to face the organization that had mind-controlled her, tortured her, experimented on her, altered her, and used her as a pet assassin and rape victim in the name of love and honor. While Jess knew she would have done the same exact thing if their roles had been reversed, Doreen had proved herself the kind of woman she was in the best of ways under the worst of circumstances, willing to face the people she feared most to free Jessica from their clutches. Doreen had fulfilled that promise at the Office of Naval Intelligence, providing the secondary escape plan to secure the rescue and completion of mission by sending a stampede of animals from the Smithsonian Zoo to thwart HYDRA and provide with the Avengers' end-of-mission. Sam Wilson referred her as 'the one-woman army' due to the fact that she could command animals and bring them to help or hinder, swelling numbers by adding dogs, birds, rats, and more if necessary. Jessica slowly rocked her friend from side-to-side to comfort her, knowing that Doreen truly was afraid that she would shift… and forget how to shift back, or never wanting to shift back.
"I know, Jess." Doreen replied softly, her own arm slipping around Jess' waist, breathing slowly and deeply. "I just… I saw Rollins and it all came flooding back, all that asshole and his fucking squid friends did to us." Jessica hardly needed the reminder, but said nothing. This was something the both of them were working on together, helping each other through the ordeals and traumas that they suffered under HYDRA's yoke. How that organization could justify anything they did was beyond her, but then again they were a Nazi special research and advanced weapons development program; that pretty much explained everything.
"So… did you really rip his junk off and curb-stomp it in front of his face? Because that's what Bucky told me." Jess asked, looking over to her friend, who looked a little sheepish.
"Um… yeah. I was going to rip his face off, but Bucky suggested something else. So… I neutered him." The Doctor replied, a small smile on her lips as she looked a little embarrassed.
"Well, you are a Veterinarian. I would have loved to have seen the look on his face when that happened." Jess probably would have been less nice about it; she probably would have slowly cooked Jack Rollins with her hands until he ended up overdone pork. But being gelded was certainly a very nice alternative. "I guess he really is going to have to wife up in prison now."
Green's head just slowly turned to look at her best friend with a dropped jaw… and busted out laughing. It was good to hear her laugh, to see all the stress and pain disappear for a few seconds.
"This has been a hell of a day." Doreen looked to the crowd of ComiCon attendees, the crowds thankfully kept back from where they sat at the police side of things, utilizing a small table for their conversation. "All I wanted to do was get a cute bra when I ran into Bucky and Kamala at Victoria's Secret."
"Um… what?" Jessica wasn't sure she heard that right. She really wanted to be sure she didn't hear that right.
"Crap, I wasn't suppose to say anything." The auburn-haired woman replied, looking glum. "They went out shopping for… well, y'know, your mom." Thanks to Hope van Dyne's prank, everyone in the Avengers knew that her mom and Bucky fucking Barnes were dating. Jenn's birthday was coming up in the beginning of April, and yes, birthday shopping was an appropriate thing to do, nothing wrong with Bucky and Kamala doing so together considering poor Kamala had to be escorted everywhere (thanks to HYDRA, that particular decision got vindicated) and Bucky generally wasn't very comfortable going off by himself (again, HYDRA). But Bucky and Kamala in a Victoria's Secret? Just the thought of Bucky buying lingerie for her mom had Jess cringe. "Poor Bucky looked like he was going to die of shame inside the store. Don't worry, I helped pick out something cute and tame. And all Kamala got was make-up and perfume." A female Veterinarian just bought her boss lingerie to spare her boss's ninety-plus year old boyfriend the shame while said boss's teenaged daughter was also in a lingerie store making purchases. There was really only one thing to say to that.
"God, our lives are so fucking weird now." Jessica replied with a sigh.
Captain Steven Grant Rogers was also sitting side-by-side with someone; the youngest Avenger. Kamala Aisha Khan was fidgeting with a Slushie cup that had gone empty probably fifteen minutes ago, spinning the straw around the bottom like a spoon to scrape up the non-existent remains of the frosty drink. He had arrived to the Meadowlands about fifteen minutes after Jess, Rhodey, and Hope had given the all-clear and admitted that they needed public crowd control due to the situation; there were thousands of people in the Meadowlands before everything had gone to Hell, and it had gotten even worse. Steve had helped provide direction, authority, and directives to the various agencies that seemed to show up about every other minute or so, making a chaotic situation even worse. Thankfully, the Department of Enhanced Individuals had also showed up, having ultimate authority when it came to superpowered persons and HYDRA. Tony had fielded the press while Steve and Natasha helped get everything organized with the various law enforcement jurisdictions to make sure all the HYDRA members were detained properly, that they would be no rescue attempts, and to set up a perimeter to make sure no other remaining personnel didn't make a bad situation even worse. The first fifteen minutes had been a real mess, about after that things had calmed down somewhat as a routine was set and things began moving properly. And thankfully Tony could talk the ear off of the press itself; no small feat.
It took Rogers a few minutes to work around and get to his people to make sure that they were doing well when Bucky mentioned to him that Kamala needed a shoulder. A quick thirty-second explanation told Steve what he needed to know.
"Key, Kamala." Kamala had been sitting on a table that was not much more than plastic with skinny metal legs, meant to be portable and cheap. When he sat on it, it had damn near buckled under his weight, so Steve had to make do with standing beside the teenagers' sitting form. He had his shield on his his back and his protective cowl draped behind his shoulders as he talked to Kamala so she'd know it was him and not Captain America talking to her.
"Hey, Cap." No matter how many times the veteran reminded the others, most of them called him 'Cap' regardless of the time of day or activity they were doing. Admittedly, almost all of them had grown up learning of Captain America, learning of his exploits at school (which still boggled him from time to time). Kamala was still looking down at her slushie with her feet kicking back and forth almost like a kid who wasn't looking forward to a scolding. Thankfully, his best friend had clued him in as to why Kamala felt that way. "I… messed up."
"How?" She was opening up first, that was good.
"People were hurt because of me. Someone died because of me." The soon-to-be sixteen-year old woman replied, her tone pure misery. "We're here because coming to the Meadowlands was my idea. HYDRA followed us here even though I knew there was likely a tracker in Bucky's arm. When we were taking the jammer out of his arm, the Mandarin was threatening to shoot and kill people if we didn't show up on the spot, and… and I asked for more time." Kamala finally looked up from her empty slushy, her dark eyes rimmed red from tears. "That was on me." Steve knew what this was about; actually, it was pretty close to what Kamala had admitted to. She felt guilt for having made a decision that cost lives.
"Back during the war," Steve began, "the plan was to invade France and steam our way to Berlin, to recapture all that lost territory in France and liberate it while pushing the Germans out. Storming the French beach of Normandy was a big necessity because we needed a beachhead for a landing point, a place we could ship armor and artillery as well as men. I've seen more than a few movies and books now talking about D-Day, espousing on its difficulties. While it was physically difficult and had a heavy toll, that wasn't the hard part, in my mind. Those beaches were merely defended by Germans in pillboxes; clear-cut and simple.
"The French villages was were it got messy. The villages where the French were still living within them."
Kamala looked fairly horrified at the thought.
"The plan, every time," Rogers continued, "was to get within range of a village and plant our artillery where we could 'soften' up the Germans; a nice way of saying that we were going to shell them for several hours. While that happened, our armor would get into position for a push and drive towards the village to clear a path through while engaging any other armor that might halt our advance, like tanks hidden in barns or in between buildings that we wouldn't see from a distance. The infantry would follow behind and clear out buildings, blocks and streets that the tanks couldn't go down, pouring into each like a wave. Usually, by the time we actually reached the village city limit, the command element of the Germans had already left, leaving a portion of their forces behind to both stall us and inflict casualties. We would shell them, blast them, shoot them, burn them out… whatever it took.
"And the whole time, the French were inside those same villages, sheltering themselves with whatever protection they could, praying to survive."
"I… think I knew that. They really don't talk about that in history, just the actual drive itself." Kamala admitted thoughtfully. "The Nazis occupied all those villages, towns, and cities, and that means the French people were still there. It would have used more Nazi soldiers to evacuate them safely, wouldn't it? So they left them there knowing what was coming."
"I… hated it. We all did in the Commandos, and actually I don't think anyone really liked the plan in itself because of that." Steve reminisced. "We were driving into villages and towns that looked hundreds of years old, stone houses that we always envisioned when thinking of medieval Europe, and we were more or less destroying them. And the people themselves really didn't have anywhere to go. Some had basements, root cellars, that kind of thing. But most would be in a room under a bed or a table as if that would stop an artillery shell or a tank round when it hit a wall. We shelled French villagers to soften up the Germans so we could drive them out. Then we'd drive our tanks on the streets to blast strongpoints while soldiers cleared building with rifles, grenades, and flamethrowers. Does that sound like a good plan? Blowing up the very people we wanted to liberate?"
"No, not really." Kamala admitted, frowning.
"I hated that plan. We tried other plans and ideas, but nothing else worked like that one." The Captain replied, seeing the teenager nod her head slowly. "Whenever someone does something, be it rob a store, plan a battle, even just police doing routine patrols, lives become involved. It might not be their intent, but it is their responsibility whether they want it or like it or not. When you look at people such as politicians, business owners, generals and admirals, people like Pepper or Jenn, they can have a great many lives involved, sometimes good and sometimes not. When you reach positions like that or find that your decisions involve more than just you, you find yourself in that situation where you have the power over a man's life. It's very heady stuff, and most people have no idea what to do with that capability. Some are in it for their own glory or ascension, some people find themselves in love with that power, almost intoxicated by it, and other fold under the pressure. The sad part is that you don't know which one you are until it happens… and what happens after. And here's the thing, little one… you did well."
"I… I did?" Kamala did sound too sure if she believed him or not, but she was curious, too.
"Kamala, you did a lot of things that shows that you do have what it takes when things go sideways." Steve continued as he gave her a reassuring smile. "You didn't panic to where you were nothing more than just extra weight, you didn't just start running and screaming in random directions, you weren't a sobbing mess on the ground, and you didn't just lose it and start punching at the first thing that looked like a target. You see that in the military, how people react in stressful situations, especially the life-or-death ones. One of the things they do in military basic training is to have soldiers under constant stressful situations with the purpose of pushing them to follow orders so they know what to do when those situations come. I've seen grown men freeze up, I've seen them fall to the ground, I've seen them lose their cool and start shooting in random directions. You did none of those things, Kamala. Instead, you used your brains and you acted when things were going wrong very quickly. You had but a few seconds to act, and you did just that. On top of that, you thwarted what was undoubtedly a well-laid plan to capture both yourself and Bucky in a way they weren't prepared for, you put yourself in a position that bought all of you time to prepare and gain the upper hand, and then you turned the tables on them and defeated them. That speaks very highly of you not only as a person, but as someone who is in charge of such things. At your age? It's practically unheard of, Kamala."
"That man they killed… he shouldn't have died." The young woman pointed out. "He would still be alive if I hadn't decided to come to the Meadowlands."
"While that is true, what location would have been better? The highway? The Lincoln Tunnel entrance? Some other building or location?" Rogers countered, getting the young woman to pause. "HYDRA was going to use force to get what they wanted, and they had no qualms against it. If you had continued driving away, it would have been multiple vehicle accidents and likely a much larger death toll. If you had tried for the Tunnel, I guarantee that would have been the case. If you had gone to some building, anyone else in there would have been in danger. That fact, about the possible ramification of the loss of innocent lives, is always in the cards no matter what you do, just like those French villagers. What you do is you defeat the enemy as quickly as you can; that's what saves lives. Did you know that during the Battle of New York, I gave overall orders to engage the Chitauri, not to rescue people?"
There was a pause.
"Yes." Kamala finally answered in a small voice.
"Do you know why?"
There was another pause.
"Yes." The young woman finally answered softly. "Because if you spent more time shuttling people out, more Chitauri would have been available to endanger them."
"There's that and a dozen different other reasons that amount to the same thing." Steve told her. "Yes, we made efforts to evacuate people at first and actioned on a few incidences that would have taken a lot of lives at once and possible damaged structures to a breaking point, but for the most part I made us fight the Chitauri directly, to winnow their numbers and have them focus on us. Initially, it was to limit their footprint and buy time for the military to come in to aid us, to keep them from spreading all over Manhattan and causing wide-spread damages and death. And that worked, didn't it?"
"Yes, the Chitauri were more or less kept in a small portion in Midtown." The Pakistani-American teenager replied. She knew that just as well as everyone else, the action highlighted after the battle all over the media and by politicians and generals.
"How many lives do you think that saved?"
There was another pause.
"My Abbu, he worked in the Bank of America building in Midtown." Kamala said softly, surprising Steve. Kamala's father had worked as the Vice President of Loans for Bank of America, that he knew, and he had been aware that Yusif Khan had worked in the Manhattan Branch. He never actually considered which branch, knowing of a BOA Building in Midtown but never actually making the connection. That Bank of America had been spared the worst of the Chitauri invasion because it had been immediately outside of the perimeter he had established for the Avengers, only suffering some superficial damages and stray shots (and in one case, a crashing Chitauri Sky Scooter going through a window when brought down by an arrow). The thousands of people inside that building had only been minimally in danger thanks to their actions… including Yusif Khan. "I remember… how elated I was when he came home that night." Kamala continued, looking thoughtful. "I remember being afraid when the news came on with the breaking news segment, interrupting all the shows after I came home from school, and… you could hear some of it in Jersey City, lightning splitting the sky on what was originally a clear day and lots of very distant gunfire. I could see the portal from my house. Well, mostly the blue beam and where it ended, little black specks coming out of it and sometimes some worm-like thing flying out of it. I remember… how afraid I was when I saw the beginning of the invasion." A tear escaped one of dark eyes as she reminisced about that fateful day. "When we saw Mister Stark flying through the air and shooting them down, it was like… a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, I felt like my Abbu would be alright. I remember cheering Mister Stark on and praying for him, he looked so incredible even though he was so outnumbered, this one man fighting back for all of us with everything he could no matter the odds."
"He was pretty incredible, wasn't he?" Steve had reviewed a great deal of footage pertaining to the Chitauri Invasion to gauge all their capabilities, their actions, their methods, and their tactics in case they ever came back. The portal hadn't even been open for ten seconds when Tony Stark began engaging the first invaders flying through the sky, defending Earth at the get-go. "Kamala, I'm hard-pressed to think of a way this could have gone better than it did. What you did wouldn't have been what I decided, but that's just because we're different people with different thought processes. Hiding in a location where you would be more-or-less invisible to buy time to remove that jammer was the right move no matter how you look at it, and coming up with ideas that had HYDRA scrambling and unprepared is how you deal with such things anyhow. I saw the video of you labeling the Mandarin a fake and slapping the hell out of him. Pretty sure Nat has that fav'ed on her FaceBook page."
"Did Captain America just say 'fav'ed' and 'FaceBook' in the same sentence?" Kamala expressed with mock-wonder, even faux-dramatically covering her mouth in shock. "Next thing you're going to say is you're not so vanilla and you're hashtagging this." That had Steve laugh as the young woman giggle along with him. "I guess I just needed to know… that I was doing the right thing."
"Kamala, one day in the future you might find yourself in my position. Or Tony's. Or even Jenn's." Steve told her in all seriousness. "When we tell kids that they aren't ready or prepared, it isn't because they are doing something wrong, it's the lack of experience, life skills, and wisdom from making a lot of decisions that didn't end up so well. Today, you weren't very prepared, but you showed to Bucky and Doreen that your opinion was worth listening to. And they followed your lead, didn't they?"
"Yes, they did." The young woman replied softly.
"Do you think they would have if you had been making bad decisions, childish decisions, or selfish decisions?"
"No, no they wouldn't have." Kamala nodded thoughtfully. "I think a part of me… felt a little like it was a game, outsmarting HYDRA and beating them and everyone goes home victorious and happy. But that's rarely the case, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid so, but as long as we're striving to doing better, to being better, to seeing those lessons and learning from them, then the next time we're a little more ready, we're a little more prepared, and we do it a little bit better. I know it hurts now to think about what HYDRA did to these people, but I'd be more worried if it didn't." The Captain told her as he slipped her arm around her to give her a comforting hug. "You have a good heart and a good future ahead of you Kamala, and you're doing the things that make people stand up and take notice of what you do. It's a hard road, I can fully attest to that, but if you do it right you'll be surprised at the things you'll be able to accomplish. I know I'm looking forward to see where you go and where it will take you."
"Thanks, Cap." Kamala wiped away at a tear as she looked to the crowds that were still being interviewed by law enforcement agencies of many different jurisdictions. "I'm pretty certainly there's a few hundred fans out there dying to get pictures with us. They might riot if we don't start shaking hands and kissing babies."
"You first, Miss Marvel." Steve replied with a lopsided smile, the young woman maturely sticking her tongue out at him.
Location [REDACTED], Kaliningrad Oblast, Russian Federation, Europe, March 3, 2013
Ashley Syble Burch exited the elevator as it reached its destination floor, the vehicle manned by no less than two large Russo-German men in suits, the plethora of tattoos on their hands not only for decoration as the twenty-seven year old chemist thanked the armed men in Russian as she walked out onto the floor where the Quorum met. The building that the location was held looked like any other business conglomerate, complete with a brightly-lit sign professing its name (NordenSüden), had its own website declaring its business mission, and even posted jobs on various social media site to enhance the facade that it was a business like any other. The name was actually even a recognizable one for not only those who lived in Eastern Europe and the area once known as Koenigsberg before 1945, annexed by the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics before the fall of the National Socialist Republic of Germany, more commonly known at the times as the Third Reich or Nazi Germany, but also around Europe and the world for those who did international business. On paper, it was a multinational conglomerate holding company that invested in businesses, bought and sold its competition, invested in public-traded companies and futures, and owned stock in some of the most-recognized companies in the world. The business was well-known for having the top-ten most valuable Class A Stock in the world, and had many an investor and business owner wealthy.
Burch wasn't here for the business aspect.
The elevator didn't get off on the top floor, like with most businesses in which the leader of its efforts usually resided upon the top floor so as to overlook their domain as the kings of old once did. Instead, the Phoenix, Arizona-born woman was let off below street level, even below where the maintenance and mechanical portions of the building existed to provide it power, water, sewage disposal, and electrical access. The elevator descended below there, where existed a floor that one part manse, one part, business, and one part… something more.
It was here that HYDRA existed. The only part that mattered.
Ashley walked across the floor of the expensively-furbished and decorated 'lobby' that hosted something more akin to a lavish waiting room complete with several executive assistants who worked behind finely-made Bavarian oak desks that were both work spaces and near pieces of art from the carved designs decorating its surfaces save the top. A part of this room was a facade, the trappings of power meant to impress upon a person the wealth and prestige inherent to its master. Really, it was just a pretty picture to the true power that was contained deeper within the underground level. Ashley cared not for the plush velvet couches and chairs, its embroidered pillows laying upon the chaise lounge chairs, the thick rich carpeting, the tapestries and paintings that decorated the paneled walls, or even the grand fireplace that wasn't the real deal though looked like it was until closer inspection. All of it was a picture meant to impress the weak and stupid. Ashley wasn't weak. Ashley wasn't stupid.
She had seen the true face of power, and she know what it looked like.
The lavish waiting room was populated by no less than seven persons now, including her, and the sight of them had Ashley realize that it wasn't just she who had a meeting, knowing that every member of the Quorum had been called upon. All were there save one as she saw that, for the moment, she was the only woman in the room. That meant they were waiting for one more.
The elevator bank dinged with the arrival of a car, and a forties-something woman walking out in a smart business suit, a face well-known to the world as the Chief Information Officer of NordenSüden, Doctor Synthia Ophelia Schmidt. Now that they were all there, the meeting could begin. Good, Burch was in the middle of a trial run.
"I zee that you haff managed to znatch up anozzer company, Frau Doktor." That was the Baron, the old pompous ass, who was sitting in one of the plush seat reading upon a tablet, likely newspaper publications that he was so fond of. He was of the older generation, after all, nearly ninety. "Anozzer investment?"
"Another acquisition, Baron Zemo. A conglomerated business such as ours must continue moving forward or it shall move backwards." Doctor Schmidt replied, her tone even and level, obviously not caving into the hidden barb that Baron Heinrich Zemo had offered. "Besides, such acquisitions offer liquidation opportunities to infuse capital into our plans. It's especially useful with departments that show zero returns in years… or decades."
"Bitte, can ve please be in zee room for funf minutes wizzout zee poking and zee prodding?" Doctor Otto Octavius lamented, shaking his head. The world-renowned Doctor of biomechanics had never been a social person, preferring his machines to men. Honestly, Ashley just thought people bored him. "Ve vill know zoon enough vhat ziss iz about."
"I already know what it's about." Doctor Daniel Whitehall replied, the ancient Englishman setting down his own tablet. "It's been all over the American news for the past two bloody hours. Someone approved of a jolly good snatch-and-grab of the young Avenger… and hilariously failed. Not only that, the whole bloody farce was captured on cell phones and is going superviral all over everything considered social media. Men were captured known to be in our ranks, and thanks to someone's piss-poor idea of a collab, that junkie Slattery was involved so now we're either publicly in league with the Mandarin or he with us." Burch noticed that the Englishman's eyes were on Synthia. "Fifty chaps were captured, all labeled HYDRA even if they were or not, and the one objective someone was suppose to accomplish went completely cocked-up. And not to mention that the young woman in question can turn herself into a giant and possibly inducted another member of that team whom social media has now coined 'the Assembler', for God's sakes. Which part of 'low profile' recommends a kidnapping attempt of an Avenger? Even if they had no evidence of HYDRA involvement, the speculation of it would be there. We're to be making gains quietly. Child kidnapping isn't bloody quiet."
"There was a purpose to this, Daniel." Synthia retorted, her tone chilly.
"To make us look all chav? Then it was a marvelous success."
"Enough." Doctor Norman Osborn had been standing by the fake fireplace with a glass of something alcoholic in hand. "We can cast stones or we can make use of what we know and plan accordingly." The CEO of one of the worlds' largest pharmaceutical and medicinal chemical companies, OSCORP, Doctor Norman Osborn's efforts had made him a very powerful, very recognizable figure. When he spoke, others generally listened even if they didn't agree with him or liked him. "The plan failed, move on. It truly is as simple as that." The large ornate doors at the back of the waiting room opened where a personal executive assistant in the form of a young twenty-something woman came out, looking to the Quorum.
"Der Führer vill zee you now." The young woman spoke in a light Bavarian accent, the opened doors an invitation as the eight members of the inner-circle of HYDRA took to the room in question, the assistant stepping aside as eight men and women entered into the meeting room they were convened for; Doctor Synthia Ophelia Schmidt, Baron Heinrich Karl Zemo, Doctor Otto Oskor Octavius, Doctor Curtis Dylan Conner, Doctor Norman Virgil Osborn, Baron Wolfgang Tomas von Strucker, Baron Heinrich Stefan Zemo, and Doctor Daniel Werner Whitehall all walked towards the doors as Ashley Burch followed suit. They were commanded to come; to ignore that order had a fate worse than death await those who denied the true leader of HYDRA. Because behind those doors was a conference room unlike any other. And who they sat in conference with was unlike any other, too.
They all called him der Führer to his face. None dared ever mentioning his name. Being thought dead for over sixty years had something to do with that.
Their leader sat in his chair facing away from the semi-circular conference table in which the Quorum met, its members taking their proscribed seats in front of that chair in which only one was set to the long side of the table; everyone knew who sat at its head despite only seeing the back of the long-backed chair. The rear wall of the conference room hosted 'windows' that showed the Deutchland countryside of Berchetesgaden in the Obersalzberg of the Bavarian Alps, all large digital screens that gave the impression that there were at a mountainous retreat instead of underground. The wall to the left of where the Quorum met was covered in flat-screen televisions, the sound turned off on all of them though with their subtitles running in whatever native language the program or service originated. All of them were on news channels, many of them American and English, but several from other parts of the world, including Al-Jazeera, Zhōnggóu Zhōngyāng Diànshìtái (or known by its English translation as China Central Television, the state-ran news and public opinion steering agency), Pervyy Kanal (better known as Channel One or First Channel, the leading news agency in Russia whose content was most certainly censored and edited by the state), and Dozhd (or 'Rain', the independent Russian news source that went head-to-head reveal times with the Kremlin about the content of its reporting, meaning they were hypercritical of the government). Every channel was not only subtitled in its native language, but spoke in its native tongue. Typical… except that its owner could understand both the written word and spoken word of those languages fluently without need for translation or looking up a word save if it were a recently-made slang word. Some people were espoused for speaking several languages. He knew at least five dozen languages, various regional dialects, and could travel to just about any country in the world and speak its mother tongue at the native level. The opposite wall of the bank of televisions mounted to the wall was one of trophies gained either in war, conquest, apprehension, or personal acquisition. The most-prized amongst them, the centerpiece that stood center of the wall, was an old heater shield decorated with red and white stripes with a blue field with white stars possessing a fist-shaped dent carved deep into its steel surface. It was hardly the most expensive or grandest of the trophies, but to the man who owned them, it held the most personal value. Burch knew what that shield was… and who once owned it. She had been born in America, after all.
"Guten tag, vwon und all." Der Führer spoke from where he sat, facing the picturesque 'windows' showing the Bavarian Alps instead of facing the Quorum, his highly-accented voice speaking English as it was the commonly most-spoken language amongst all of them. "I haff brought you all here today concerning a recent event und its impact upon our long-term goals." It sounded as if Doctor Whitehall was correct; this would be about the recent kidnapping attempt of Kamala Kahn, known worldwide as Miss Marvel. Ashley had no idea of the plan, the attempt, its execution, or the fullness of the intent. Whatever the windfall of it was wouldn't be on her or her department involving chemical interactive investigations; a nice term of chemical weapon deployment. "Zeveral vweeks ago, a plan vas forwarded to apprehend von Fraulein Kamala Khan of zee Avengers for her capabilities, her intelligence, her knowledge, and most importantly all that she has zeen and heard in that edifice of decadence. Zee true intent vas zwei-folded; to either capture zee Fraulein and ascertain all zhat zee Avengers have been vwerking on, or to gauge zer level of response and physicality vwhen assaulted. I myself have approved of zhis plan, and it has met my expectations."
"You… approved of a plan that you thought would likely fail?" Doctor Daniel Whitehall asked curiously, looking a little dumbfounded. Actually, Ashley was a bit mystified as well, and by the other faces or body languages of the other members of the Quorum save for Doctor Schmidt and Baron von Strucker, they were equally as confounded.
"Incorrect. I approved of a plan zhat would be zee first step into success ov our new goal; to secure zee aid of zee Avengers for our own gains."
The Quorum was struck rather speechless at that. Der Führer had just fully said that his entire intent was to use their enemies to get what HYDRA wanted. The how of it was lost on the Arizona-born woman, but she was curious. The man who chaired that meeting was a bold and cunning tactician whose prior accomplishments included staving off the Allies of WWII, very nearly stopping the advancing invasion with the Ardennes Offensive (what the Allies would call the Battle of the Bulge), the near assassination of Prime Minister Winston Churchill (one that wasn't public knowledge and had a look-alike of him running around for a few weeks while Churchill recuperated), the creation of energy weapons, the manufacture of the largest plane in the world, the creation of most powerful non-nuclear bomb ever made, and hundreds of enhanced soldiers. And those were just his war accomplishments over sixty years prior. His boldness and finesse in war was without question. So when he claimed to use the very enemies who undoubtedly swore to defeat them at all costs for his schemes to fruition, it was a very bold claim. The sheer audacity of it was mind-blowing; the fact that he could possibly pull it off (and it was possible, Ashely thought to herself) had most of the Quorum intrigued.
"Mein mensch," their leader spoke as his chair turned around, showing his disfigured visage and his cunning eyes to them as a metallic hand pet a white-furred feline that sat upon his lap, "in zee komming year, zere vwill be a referendum in zee Kaliningrad Oblast to cede vrom zee Russian Federation and establish itzelf az an independent nation, regaining its ancient name of Latveria. Vere vwill be a public vote in vhich, with nozing to do on our behalf, vwill succeed in voting for independence and requesting recognition zrough zee vorld az a recognized and legitimate nation unto itzelf, most especially zrough zee United Nations and America. Russia… vill do vhat Russia does best thanks to its Prezident; it vill vage a campaign of conkering oppression vor all zee world to zee, to show zee true colors of its oppressive, tyrannical regime. Zee vorld vill be up in arms zhrough public opinion and zhanks to media, both publik und social, zee zreat to zee people here vill be visited in every home to highlight their plight. UN and American intervention vill be called vor vithout ourselves so much as lifting a proverbial finger.
"Vwhen zee tanks and planes come to invade Belarus und Lithuania or violate their sovereign air space to free zee new Democratic Republic of Latveria, zee Avengers shall fight on our behalf to protect zee people vwhile vee simply vwatch." Der Führer explained with a smile.
Ashley Burch had to fully admit that the plan had her stunned; the plan was to create a nation of HYDRA's origins, giving them the ability to populate and operate with impunity within its national confines, and any aggression towards the organization in the country of its national location would be seen as an act of war; something most nations would wish to avoid if it didn't want to lose prestige on the world state of affairs and suffer sanctions or worse. And the boldness of it was to have the whole act supported by the United Nations, America, and even the Avengers! While she was by no means a political science major or even versed in diplomacy, even Burch could see how Der Führer could manipulate such things towards fruition. It was a hell of an audacious plan, with subtlety enacting its beginning and boldness ending it. If they pulled it off, even the Avengers wouldn't be able to just fly in and risk losing their public opinion on what would appear to be an assault on a sovereign nation. She wasn't sure how the pretend kidnapping attempt played into it, but if der Führer had approved of the mission and its outcome, then everything was going according to plan.
"For zee next phaze of our plan," der Führer continued, "vee shall increase our stockpile of chemical vreponry and plant them in proscribed locations for later detonation vhen zee Russian forces kome to accuse zhem of uzing Wrepons ov Mazz Destruction against a civilian populous and sovereign nations. Agent Viper, how long vhill it take to increase our chemical payload drei-fold?"
"Depending on the munitions you wish to have me use or focus on, der Führer." Ashely Burch replied readily. "If you wish me to build up our arsenal on what is traditionally believed to be stockpiles of Soviet chemical deployments and munitions, I can have it done in as little as three months if given coverage and the necessary materials through our trading partners to conceal our efforts. If you wish for something different or special, it will take more time, but the effect of something new or horrific may achieve a better result if you wish to embroil several nations into war and make the Russians look like monsters. Considering the recent poisonings they're being accused of as well as who sits in the Kremlin, I can make something that is known to be of their manufacture but an upgraded version that will work well. Giving it a Russian fingerprint will be child's play."
"Add funf-und-dreizig percent to zee existing stockpiles of Saren and Somen." The order came down to increase by twenty-five percent for two very effective nerve agents that were well known to having been made in the Soviet Union; those gases required more refined processes to keep and a more advanced industrial capability to create, harness, and maintain, unlike Tabun which had been created by the Third Reich and even crafted by the Saddam regime back in the 80's. Modern-day Russia would not use something so… quaint… as Tabun. "Az for zee zhought of zomething new… I leave zee creation and details to your discretion, Viper. My only request iz zhat it must be shocking, horrific, and beyond zee pall of acceptable zhought. Let zee Russians deny having ever created zhuch a zhing… and the entire vorld disbelieving zhem."
"It shall be done, der Führer." Ashley Burch replied with a smile, already having several formulas and mixtures on paper for the potential production. Now she was being asked to do what she did best; make chemical weapons.
And use them.
FINE - ARC X: SEARCH AND DESTROY
ARC XI: I CAN SEE THE VENOM IN YOUR EYES
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, District of Columbia, The Ides Of March, 2013
Everett Martin Ross sat in a waiting room awaiting his appointment, a little bit nervous considering who he would be meeting in a few minutes. With the aftermath of the Second American Civil War still continuing three months later, the Central Intelligence Agency was still in the middle of being restructured considering about fifteen percent of their personnel had been tainted thanks to HYDRA, many trained Intelligence Officers and Intelligence Analysts having been captured and still awaiting trial as the world reeled from a potential hostile takeover. Several governments were still under the impression that it was America that was responsible instead of a separate organization, having inserted agents of their own into their governments for a world-wide overthrow. Then again, most of those nations were petty Third World countries that were threatened with collapse or takeover of their own accord that hardly mattered in the scheme of things, ran by petty tyrant dictators that could probably do with a good spring cleaning. But that was neither here nor there, For the moment, Everett was preparing for a meeting with the leader of the Free World.
"Agent Ross? He's ready for you." The secretary, an older woman who manned a desk for a boss unlike any other throughout the world. There were those who claimed to be a world leader. Her boss had the clout to put anyone at the negotiation table or on the backpedal no matter what they thought of him or the nation he led. Everett stood up and unconsciously straightened the blazer of his suit, making sure that it was buttoned correctly and worn properly. One did not come into that office looking like a slob, after all. He nodded is appreciation to the older woman as he went to the door and opened it to reveal the inside of the Oval Office.
And inside, behind the desk known as The Resolute, was none other than the President of the United States of America.
"Mister President." The Senior Agent said as he stood in front of that desk in a more relaxed military version of the parade rest, his hands clasped behind the small of his back more loosely than what he had been taught in the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs twenty-five years prior when he had been a hotshot cadet looking to earn his wings.
"Ah, Agent Ross. I'm glad you came." The President said as he sat as his desk, the backdrop of the curtain windows showing the White House lawn behind him, the flag Old Glory and the Great Seal framing the window said to stop even an explosive RPG warhead the very image of what television shows and movies replicated when showing that very station. "A situation has arisen, Agent Ross, and I had several portfolios of potential candidates to deal with a matter that is going to require a great deal of finesse, intrigue, flexibility, and courage to face. Of those candidates that were brought to me not by the Director of the CIA but the Acting Deputy Director, I have selected you due to your service both in the Air Force as a fighter pilot and the CIA as a military attache and analyst. As of this moment, the only people who know that you are here and why… are you and I."
"I understand, Mister President." Actually, he understood it just a little. After the HYDRA Uprising, trust in the American Government had taken a huge hit, both with the public and internally, and none more so than the man who sat before him. Several people had been brought up to act as directors and administrators for positions vacated either by HYDRA Operatives or those they had discretely murdered or converted. The President had given a year lease on those positions in which potential candidates from amongst the American public (and not Congress) would vote on suitable replacements. There were still too many holes in many positions, especially in the House of Representatives and the Senate, but the President had been extremely adamant in having a free election in one years' time to make sure that the power of the people was both upheld and honored. All who were put into the positions today weren't allowed to run for the public election, having been called by the Commander-in-Chief to fill those positions' in America's time of need. It had been a rather popular move, and the approval rating of POTUS was better than ever. What trust the Government lacked… he had in spades. So when the President was picking him, Everett knew it was likely a test, a trial, or a situation that he needed someone who had proven himself trustworthy, or was giving him the chance to do so. During the Uprising, Ross had fought against traitors and backstabbers in Langley, no Avengers or illusion machines to aid in that fight. There had been many deaths on both sides of that line, sadly.
"It has come to my attention through an independent source," the President continued, "that when HYDRA failed, they scattered to every direction of the compass, both inside this country and into others. Some wished to bunker down and let the storm pass. Others created small efforts and plied themselves into more honest labors on the hopes we would forget what they had done. Others jumped into other criminal enterprises, hoping such organizations would hide them. And then there were others that kept with their original path, starting over again. All of this should be of no surprise to you."
"No, Mister President." Ross, like several others, were squid-hunters. They weren't the top dogs in that field (that mantle belonged to a rather public group in New York City, no surprise), but people like Ross had their victories as well. Everett had lost friends during the Second American Civil War, and friends who had tried to kill him. He'd had rather fought in an honest war on the ground outnumbered and overran than find himself in a fracas where he had no idea who the enemy was or where he might be shot at from next.
"This… is different. This is why you."
The President pulled from his desk a file folder stuffed filled with paper. There was a clear stamp on it that said both 'original' as well as 'do not copy' in red. Whatever it was would likely be quiet serious if it were a 'FYEO' file; For Your Eyes Only. In terms of classification, it was next to the highest level of classification, and meant that there was no digital copy or record of it. If one wanted a second sheet, they wrote it by hand since the paper used was crafted out of the same fabric and material that the American Dollar was made out of, and couldn't be correctly copied, Xeroxed, scanned, or even pictured correctly. If one tried, there would be too many marks and hashes to get a good read. That paper went for something like a hundred dollars per sheet, and it really and truly fucking worked as advertised.
"Agent Ross, you were once a fighter pilot for the Air Force, trained with not only the best technology… but pushed past beyond the limits of human potential. Weapon and vehicle recognition, memory recall, reflexes, gut instinct, that certain something that means life or death in the air, all of it combed to breed an aerial fighter whose threats were above and below. Then you went and joined the CIA, further improving yourself and your instincts as a military attache, learning languages and diplomacy along with psychology and espionage. You have the heart of a warrior and the training that matches only a few individuals in the world. You have rising to the top of a very elite pedigree… and something has come up that fits you perfectly."
"Two weeks ago," the President continued, "three top-tier scientists with heavily-implied HYDRA connections were located in Central Europe, having smuggled themselves into Hungary by means of bribes and coercion. During that time, intelligence assets have followed these markered personnel as they set up shop and made subtle movements and discrete inquiries involving what appears to be an underground arms sale." That that Ross's full and undivided attention, though the President certainly had it before. "Now what the intelligence analysts are telling me is that this arms sale is unusual; it isn't going to the usual names, buyers, movers, or purchasers. Instead of terrorist cells, financiers, criminal organizations, and parapolitical organizations, it seems that the people in question that are being contacted are in fact national representation."
"HYDRA is selling weapons to nations?" Everett asked, a little surprised at the thought. "Are we talking Iran and North Korea?"
"I'm talking China, Russia, England… and us."
That had Ross's blood run cold. What kind of weapon would HYDRA be willing to sell to America save…
"Oh God." He knew what kind of sale this was. Future weapons, next-generation weapons.
Human weapons.
Author's Notes: Organic Technology at its finest. Can anyone sing the Terragenesis song with me?
The title of the upcoming ARC surprisingly enough comes from a Samuel L. Jackson movie, Snakes On A Plane. While horrifically stupid (and yet funny), the line comes from its title song.
You're probably not going to miss out on this one as I rock it like its 1979! And you're just going to love the setting. It really reminds me of this one place in Hungary (you and I remember it very differently).
Normally, external braces stay on for a very long time, months and months. Three months would be way too short for splintered or horrifically misaligned bones. But Jenn has plot armor, so… there. Plus it needs to be off by May 11th (wai… what?)
I guess in my own way the Varsity is my version of the Agents of SHIELD without the coolness of Phil Coulson.
Yes, the new full-time pilot for the Avengers is Ben 'Grim' Stone… so the Thing without the powers.
NordenSüden - I actually base this off of Berkshire Hathaway, one of the richest companies in the world with the most expensive stock. It is most well-known for its CEO, Warren Buffet.
I made of cadre of bad guys generally well known for their intelligence and ruthlessness, all Marvel characters… save one, Ashley Burch, aka Agent Viper. Agent Viper, originally named Ophelia Sarkissian, was exchanged with the new modern variant from the free-to-play first-person hero shooter Valorant, codename Agent Viper (the chemical weapon specialist). The voice actor for this game is Ashly Burch, so I used it.
Who is this mysterious new leader? - I imply that the leader of HYDRA could be one of three people… all scary. Yes, I call him Der Führer (German for 'the Leader' with the male tacking) and really there's just one person this pertains to. I also mention that the plan is to create Latveria (which in the comic books is somewhere west on the border of Romania, not the traditional Koenigsberg/Kalininsgrad territory). I also mention a 'ruined' visage, which could be two different people known for their scarred faces. Then I mention this guy was in WWII actively fighting for the AXIS. So it could be one of those three.
But really, considering that it's HYDRA? If the great American icon can survive for sixty-plus years… why can't HYDRA's golden boy?
Say hello to Rot Schädel. I had an entire deadline named after this guy pertaining to the HYDRA Uprising back in Season 2. It wasn't named after him… it was his.
Koenigsberg/Kalininsgrad - If you've ever looked at a map of Europe, then you've probably seen this tiny little chunk of land that was once owned by Germany historically that wasn't physically attached to it (west past Germany and north of Poland, upon the Baltic Sea) and is currently owned by Russia (since April 1945) but isn't physically attached to it (east past Lithuania). Seven percent the size of Rhode Island and about half the size of Andorra (in between Spain and France), it is the only Russian territory that is physically connected to the European Union.