Chapter One

He flipped the lighter open with a metallic "clink," and had to give it a few good flicks to get the sparks to form a flame. He had to shield the lighter with his hand as he brought it to the tip of the cigar that he clenched in his teeth, to keep the wind from blowing it right out.

"Damn things," he thought to himself. He mentally brushed away the recurring thoughts about how ironic it would be if the cigars were what finally did him in, after all he'd been through. Wars, terrorists, supervillains... and in the end, it was nothing more than a bad habit that would probably be what took him to his grave. "And that's if I'm lucky," he mused. He took a long drag off the cigar, then let the smoke seep out from the corners of his mouth.

Another man walked toward him, and took a seat next to him on the park bench. Neither spoke for a moment. The silence was not an uncomfortable one, merely a formality as the two old colleagues surveyed the surroundings, making sure they were alone.

"It's good to see you again, Nick," said the younger man. "How have you been?"

The older man flicked the ashes from the tip of the cigar. "Let's skip the bullshit, Rogers. This isn't a social visit. You see any tea and crumpets laid out here?"

Few men spoke to Captain America in such a tone. Most were afraid to. Nick Fury, however, was simply a man who did not care to waste time. There was business to discuss.

"I have to admit I was surprised that you wanted to meet here, and not at SHIELD headquarters or the Avengers Mansion," Steve Rogers replied.

"That's because this is unofficial. Off the books. I don't want the Avengers involved, at least not in any formal capacity. This is even classified among SHIELD personnel, only those at the very top have any knowledge of what I am about to discuss with you."

Nick took another drag off the cigar, then lifted a small briefcase off the ground and set it in his lap. He flipped open the clasps with his thumbs and tossed back the lid. He then proceeded to remove a folder from the briefcase, which he handed to Steve.

Rogers opened the folder and flipped through the files inside. The dim illumination from the streetlight was enough to make out the familiar face that graced the top page.

"This... is Bruce Banner. He's gone missing?"

Fury silently rubbed his hand over the stubble on his face.

"But, sir, it was my understanding that Banner has been missing for years. I thought he was on the run."

"Don't kid yourself, son. SHIELD has kept tabs on Banner the whole time he's been on the lam. Just not much we could always do about it, however. Throw any heat his way and all you do is cause a lot of property destruction and maybe lose a few lives. We spend most of our time trying to keep trouble away from Banner without him knowing it."

"And now, he's, what, dropped off the radar? You have no idea where he is?"

"Keep reading, Captain."

Steve flipped through the remaining pages of the file. His face fell. He bowed his head and closed the folder.

"So where do we go from here?"

"I want you to assemble a strike force, Cap. A recon team. We need you got get Bruce Banner back before it's too late."

"You sure you don't want the Avengers in on this?"

"Damn it, Cap! In the public eye, Banner is a wanted fugitive! The last thing we need is a bunch of retards in tights crying 'Avengers Assemble' like it's the fucking '70s and you're headed to an all-night disco! We need to keep this as low-profile as possible. Listen, call in anyone you want, but you have to keep it quiet. The public will not know about this, do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good."

Cap handed the folder back to Fury. Fury flipped the lighter back open, and gave it another flick. The two men watched as the files went up in a slow-burning flame.

Fury stood up and dusted himself off. He tossed his cigar on the ground, and stomped it out with his foot as if it were a bug. "Damn things," he said again. "Call me when you have your team together, Cap. I'll be waiting."