-CAPTAIN AMERICA-

THE ISLAND

"Legend tells us one thing, history another. But every now and then we find something that belongs to both." - Nick Fury.

FEBRUARY 1944, EUROPEAN THEATER OF COMBAT

In the hillsides of northern Italy, the afternoon sky was turned a dreary gray as the plumes of smoke and stench of cordite filled the air. The thunder that sent shivers through the formerly charming countryside, however, did not originate in the dark clouds overhead. Rather, each clamorous boom was preceded by a terrifying whistle and climaxed with the sudden detonation of an artillery shell impact.

Gunfire was constant, the rapid bursts of rounds being shot and bolts being thrown back and forth was like the trickling of a stream; an ambient backdrop noise to all else. Shouts of men periodically rose above the din, cries of command, of alarm, of agony. "Up the hill! Up the hill!" One voice, in particular, called out, his voice unshaken and determined. "Behind me!" He ordered.

Atop the hill sat a humble villa, consisting of three structures within a perimeter wall. To the outside viewer, it would seem nothing more than the summer home of a European vacationer, low profile, modestly adorned. But to the forces crawling their way up the slope it was a merely an ornament, a front for something far more sinister.

Defending the high-ground, a machine gun nest was entrenched in the rocky hillside, a barrier of stones topped by a metal pillbox. Poking out from a slit in the steel was the barrel of a machine gun, from which spat small plumes of combustion for every bullet that came flying out.

The soldier behind the trigger aimed at anything that moved in his field of fire. On the shoulder of his uniform, a skull cradled in a writhing mass of tentacles, the emblem of his true allegiance. This soldier was not fighting for Reich and Fuhrer, no, he was loyal to HYDRA.

A round shield was thrust into the soil, a burst of bullets crumpling against its surface and falling in place. Coated in concentric rings of red and white, centered by a star in a blue circle, the Vibranium/Adamantium amalgam stopped the projectiles cold. Bearing a shoulder behind the shield, the world's greatest soldier appraised the situation.

"We've got to take out that machine gun!" Steve Rogers yelled over the racket, laying the length of his body on the inside of the shield. He had advanced the farthest, rows of low retainer walls provided cover for his men. Each time one of them would raise their head above the top of the wall, they would have to duck down just as quick before a splatter of bullets found them.

"That gunner's got an eagle-eye Cap!" Another younger voice responded. "We won't make it ten steps before he cuts us down!".

Rogers knew Bucky was right. The gunner must have the weapon on a swivel mount, probably a second man to keep the ammunition coming so he didn't have to pause to reload another belt or magazine. Unfortunately, the slope was the most expedient route to the HYDRA base, the hill surrounded on the other three sides by steep cliffs. They simply didn't have time to try and scale the vertical, they had to find a way to push through this obstacle, and they had to do it now. Hopefully without having his men torn to shreds.

"Bucky! Toss me a grenade!"

Knowing well enough to trust in his leader's plan, Sgt. James 'Bucky' Barnes unhooked a grenade from his belt. He took a second to breathe and muster a bit of courage. As fast as he could, he turned on his side and peeped over the top of the wall, spying where Captain America was ahead of him. It was only a second but as soon as he made sense of things, he saw the trail of tiny explosions in the soil heading his way. When he went back down he could hear and feel the shots hitting the other side of the retaining wall.

Thinking quick, he looked to his left, to where another group of his platoon was hunkered down. "Make him look your way!" Bucky called out to them.

In a similar motion to what the Sergeant had done, one of them propped his arms on the wall long enough to make himself visible. It was all the distraction he needed. Just as the machine gun turned its attention in the other direction, Bucky rose up to a knee and pitched the frag grenade up to where Rogers was prone.

The effort could not have been more perfect, the grenade hitting Cap right in the pocket of his stomach. He didn't waste a second, putting the stem of the explosive in his mouth and biting down to hold it in place. Coiling his body underneath, Rogers sprung forward frog-like up the incline. He repeated the process two more times, getting within comfortable range of the nest.

Planting the bottom edge of the shield into the dirt, he took the grenade in hand, knocking away the safety clip. He knew that the chances of getting it in the pillbox would be one hell of a shot, but he had a plan. Thumbing off the safety clip, he bit down on the safety ring and bracing himself on the ground, pulled the grenade free and lobbed it.

The gunner saw the small orb coming, and for a fraction of a second, his heart skipped. But, his fanatical training steeled him, and he remembered that the blast shield of his pillbox would protect him.

The grenade struck the front of the box and bounced off, landing on the ground a split second before it went off. The explosion threw up a cloud of dust and sand, obscuring the gunner's vision for only a moment. When it cleared, he saw movement and depressed the trigger reflexively.

The first bullet hit the shield positioned directly in front of the barrel, blunting upon impact. The next few rounds blocked the exit entirely, preventing the gas from escaping. But all of that occurred within a second, not enough time for the gunner to react to the gas being trapped, causing the chamber to explode in his face and ripping the innards of the machine gun to bits.

The HYDRA soldier was thrown against the back wall by the sudden violence of the explosion. Before he could recover, the door to the pillbox was opened from outside, an arm reaching inside to grab him by the collar. He screamed as he was lifted and tossed out into the cordite-drenched air, landing on his back with the wind knocked out of him. As soon as he tried to raise himself up, the edge of a shield was there to knock him back down.

The discus ricocheted off his head and back into Steve Rogers' hand.

"ADVANCE!" Captain America cried. "ADVANCE!" Seizing the opening, the men surged from their positions, the way cleared for them to dash like berserkers up the hill.

First among them, Sgt. James "Bucky" Barnes pumped his legs up the incline, rifle in hand, teeth grit. "Zola's little hidey-hole is right up there, boys! Let's go kick HYDRA in the balls!"

"Language!" Rogers scolded, men, laughing as they rushed past him.

"Really, Cap?" Bucky gave his friend an incredulous look as he met up with his oldest friend. "We're trading bullets with these fako-Nazis and your gonna give me crap about my language?"

Steve shrugged. "It just slipped out."

The villa atop the hill was built to withstand Allied bombing raids, via a devious method of the outer structure being nothing more than a facade. Stone pillars on either side of the front gate and artesian-designed towers gave a deceptive visage to defensive measures hidden in plain sight. The workshop of Armin Zola was a place under his total control. Save only the Red Skull himself could supersede the malign engineer's authority.

Captain America and his men came under the shadow of the compound's incongruous gloom, taking covered positions behind concrete barriers. The approach was narrow, and overlooking the main entrance were a pair of chiseled griffins set atop the pillars, staring down at the on-comers with predatory gleams. Their beaks split apart, lower from upper. In place of granite tongues sprouted steel muzzles that spat forth round after round. Hidden below the statues, HYDRA guards used a hand crank to spin the beasts in place while looking out from eye-slits.

A few men went down before they could reach the safety of the protective obstacles, their bodies twisting in sudden agony as they cried out with their final shrieks and collapsed.

Risking a spray of lead in his own chest, Rogers waited until the turrets turned away. Springing out from his position, he tossed the shield at the nearer of the two griffins, knocking it further aside and sending its fire into the sibling. The bullets chewed into the statue and disabled the weapon system.

"Bucky! Underneath the other one!" Catching his returning shield, Captain America ran into the open, drawing the enemy fire once the gunner was able to regain control.

Setting his rifle on the concrete barrier, Sgt. Barnes took careful aim through the sights, looking to acquire his target. He found it in a tiny flash of movement, the mask of the HYDRA soldier looking out from the brick-sized gap a few feet below the base of the weaponized gargoyle. It wasn't much of an opportunity, but it was enough.

The tip of his finger on the trigger, he exhaled, held the breath, and squeezed. There was a spark of ricochet and the griffin's rotating eased to a stop.

Stacking 10-deep alongside the stucco walls, Captain Rogers, and his men prepared to breach the iron gate's double-doors. "Who's got the charges?"

From the middle of the squad, one of the soldiers tossed a bulky bandolier up to the front. Cap caught it, taking out the explosive packages and planting them against the crevice of the doors. Carefully, he inserted the command wire into the blasting cap and stuck it into the clay-like substance.

The charge set he signaled to his men to turn away, bracing the shield over his back to take the brunt of the explosion's flank. It went off, warping the iron at the epicenter and exposing the thick steel bars on the opposite side that defiantly held the gate in place.

"Almost, Cap. Almost." Rogers' spared Bucky a sarcastic glance as they inspected the damage done. "One good push should do it." Retreating a dozen steps, Cap brought the shield around front, leaning forward to get a running start.

Sprinting forward like a lion on the chase, Steve Rogers put his shoulder behind the disk and leveled it. The amalgam armament hit the doors in the center, blowing both panels aside.

PRESENT DAY

4 DAYS AFTER GODZILLA LEFT

The wreckage left in New York City in the wake of what the media was dubbing 'The Monster Invasion' was still being sifted through. Days on, there remained hundreds of tons of steel and concrete in a rubble pile on the harbor where the Helicarrier and Triskelion had been. Thankfully the radiation had dissipated, Godzilla's parting gift potent but short-lived.

Since Nick Fury had resumed command of SHIELD, Captain America was free to resume his own duties as the freelance leader of The Avengers. At the moment, he was leaning on the railing on the upper deck of Stark Tower, looking out over the city. Tony was as busy as he had ever been, helping with recovery efforts both in the U.S. and Wakanda. Iron Man had left his friend the keys to the castle as a place to coordinate the available Avengers from and manage potential threats during this vulnerable time.

A whole swath of Manhattan streets lay in ruin. The monsters brought by Mole-Man, the fight between New York's heroes and the Orga creature, and of course the ambient destruction caused by Godzilla itself. The City had suffered more than its fair share of tragedy. Magneto's September 11th attacks, Victor Von Doom, the Mandarin.

But with the Orga creature stowed in the bowels of the Raft and Mole-Man stewing in a cell at the Big House, things were returning to some sense of normalcy. Though it weighed on everyone's mind that this calm after the storm was just a breather until the home-grown villains made their moves.

What would never be normal again, was the shiver that went down Rogers' spine whenever he remembered the gleam in Godzilla's eye. There was something in the explosive irises that betrayed a savage intelligence, a sense of familiarity, recognition. It brought him back to another time and place, one that he had thought merely a curious outlier in his frequently exceptional life.

Steve Rogers was a quietly religious man, Irish Catholic stock out of Brooklyn. It was never the most obvious feature of the man, the bright colors and shield-slinging usually were. But with everything he'd gone through in life, he'd only become more certain that he was on this path in life for a reason, and that everything on that path was there for a purpose.

What then, was the purpose of Godzilla?

FEBRUARY 1944

It was a good thing that nigh-unbreakable shield was the first thing through the doors to Zola's fortress because it was greeted with a hail of bullets. Coming in behind Captain America, his men returned fire, flanking to either side of the doorway and spreading into the room. An exchange of grenades sent shrapnel and concussions in all directions.

"He's here!" Arnim Zola was an unremarkable man. Lower than average height, dumpy in a lab coat that was almost too big for him, with a tangle of unkempt brown hair atop a bulb-like head. He braced himself against a mechanical wall of control panels and power meters, fearful of not just having his work destroyed, but of the consequences of his failure. "We cannot allow him to destroy the machine!" He cried from behind thick glasses.

Indeed, the heart of the fortress was itself a laboratory, its lone atrium housing a metallic sphere positioned between a set of spikes from above and below. The ball was separated by the several steel plates that comprised its exterior, with four equidistant glass oblong windows running vertically. A glowing blue light emanated from the windows, the radioactive power core generating the necessary output for his experiment. If successful, it would put victory within HYDRA's grasp overnight. "God save us from the Red Skull if the Americans shut down this facility!"

HYDRA soldiers threw themselves into the fray, hoping to be the one who finally took down Captain America. All of them would be disappointed. In a tornado of fists, boots, and solid shield, Steve Rogers fought his way through the medieval-style mansion, working his way down the winding stone steps. Knocking a jaw aside to clear the path, he sent the man tumbling over the side of the flight and down to the ground floor, where he landed on an oncoming troop of his comrades.

"This way!" Waving to Bucky and the others, Rogers pointed to where the stairs curved downwards and to the right. Beyond the curve, the source of a light coming from the lower levels betraying Zola's sanctum. While the HYDRA soldiers might have been more fanatical than the Americas they fought, that fanaticism didn't equate to superior training and sheer tenacity. They too smashed their way through a number of the enemy, moving throughout the castle and clearing out the last pockets of resistance.

Peeking up, Cap saw a few of Jack Fury's Howling Commandos chase down a few fighters at the top of the stairs. Their teams had hit the castle in a combined assault, the Howlers air-dropped into the courtyard on the other side. He recognized the men moving into the space. "Howlet! Fancy seeing you here!"

"Small world, bub." The growly soldier responded below, using the but of his rifle to club a HYDRA skull back down. "We'll keep these bastards busy! You get to Zola!"

"If you insist!" Following the Captain, Bucky and the others stormed down the last flight of stairs and into the reach of the blue light. A HYDRA soldier thought himself slick, hiding just behind the doorway only to pop-out just as he heard the foot-falls descend the last few steps, holding his automatic weapon at the hip. Unfortunately for him, he was met by the face of a white star. The bullets pinged harmlessly off the shield's surface before the muzzle was batted aside and followed by a closed fist.

The force of the punch projected the man backward through the threshold and over the edge of the landing in the adjacent room. He crashed back-first onto another guard who turned just in time to break the 15-foot fall.

Arnim Zola spun around at the sound of the collision, seeing that the room had been breached. "Stop them!" He yelped, legs shaking with fear and excitement. "Keep them away from the machine!" In his absent-minded effort to put a few more inches distance between himself and the incoming Americans, Zola backed up, his arm brushing against a red-knobbed lever.

Before he could realize his mistake, the lever shifted, setting something in motion that could not be undone. The machine behind him came alive with the thrum of energy, power meters swung their needles and copper accumulator coils gained a thin skin of electric blue.

"Oh no…" Zola gasped, comprehending to his horror that the experiment was active. "The spatial calculations! They're not ready!"

"The jig is up, Zola!" Standing at the top of the landing that overlooked the lab, Captain America bore his shield against the spray of bullets coming from the dozen soldiers on the floor. "We're shutting you down!" Diving off the landing, Cap tossed the shield across the room to ricochet off the forehead of one man, off the wall, and into the cranium of another.

He hit the floor in a roll, catching the returning shield with an outstretched hand just in time to bring it forward and into the chest of a soldier between him and Arnim. Reflexively he flung it to the side as he switched the knee he was crouched on, striking the muzzle of a light machine gun away.

"Don't shoot you fools!" Armin shrieked to his guards. "You'll damage the machine!"

"Getting' company, Cap!" dashing out onto the landing, Bucky and a few of the other men fired back the way they had come. "Skull's goons are crawling outta every damn crevice! Cut us off from everybody else!"

The sphere in the center of the room pulsed, waves of light washing through the windows like the hypnotic undulations of a cuttlefish. "It's not ready! It's not ready!" Zola frantically tried to forestall the machine's acceleration, but nothing he tried served to reign-in the process.

Rogers bull-rushed a pair of soldiers as he circled the room, coming closer to the main control panel. He struck out simultaneously with his shield and a kick, battering both men aside as he reached out to seize a grenade off the belt of one. A line of sight cleared between himself and the pulsating sphere, he thumbed away the safety clip and pulled the retaining pin.

Captain America was still gripping the explosive when Arnim Zola threw himself in the crossfire, sliding on his knees, hands out in a pleading gesture. "NO! If you blow the machine now, the power core will detonate! The castle will be obliterated!"

The dire warning stopped the fighting cold. HYDRA soldiers ceased firing, the Americans disengaged, even Cap froze where he stood with the grenade in his hand. Fortunately, the clip that prevented the explosive from going off was still lodged, held in place only by the grip of his fingers. He looked back and forth, between the weapon and his enemy, unsure for the moment about how to proceed in this mortally precarious situation. While he did not possess the scientific expertise to tell if Zola was bluffing or not. Then again, what else would motivate a rodent of a man like him to put his own bodily safety between a grenade and whatever he'd been building.

"You think he's putting us on, Cap?" Bucky asked, rifle raised at the nearest HYDRA, but backing away cautiously. "These squid-heads seem to take him seriously."

Zola swallowed a hard lump and spoke as calmly as his distressed nerves would allow. "Captain…" He gestured meekly with one arm back to the machine. "…There is enough atomic material in that device to level the hilltop and annihilate us in the process."

His fingers twitched as he thought over how to play this, if he restored the pull-pin to the grenade, he and his men would surely be shot down instantly. But if he released the lever, it might result in what Zola was so fearful of and none of them would survive anyway. At least currently, he couldn't be shot, for fear of losing hold of the explosive. Everyone was staring at him in silence, waiting to see what he would do.

NEW YORK CITY

It would make for a great drinking story. If only I could tell it without sounding like a madman. There I was, deliberating which was the best way to get myself blown to hell, when all of a sudden…

The memory reminded him of a set-up he'd heard on a thousand jokes, but as Steve Rogers braced his forearms on the railing listening to the morning sounds of the City that Never Sleeps, he found little incitement to humor. The city might be moving on, the citizens resuming their daily routine, the resilient tendency of humans to dust themselves off and get back to work even after the worst of catastrophes.

But Rogers knew better. Felt it in his gut. Something had changed, a Rubicon had been crossed and there was a pervasive sense of anticipation to every alert he got from SHIELD or saw on the news. The question that stalked in the back of his mind was not if another kaiju would attack, but when.

People have relatable motives. Greed, ego, passion, fear. Perhaps that's what unnerves me the most about the monsters, their desires and reasons are kept guarded from us. There's more at work behind those eyes than just animal instinct, there's a mind there, some spark of the divine. I saw it in Godzilla's eyes when he stared at me, a mortal man daring to strike at a god. He destroys as much as he saves, as much the villain as he is the hero. Did he even recognize me?

1944

One could hear a pin drop in the chamber, American and HYDRA alike not wanting to make any sudden moves, do anything that might set things off. Zola's machine continued to thrum, the pace of its oscillations increasing.

"You can't shut that thing off?" Rogers asked.

Arnim glanced back to it and shook his head. "It's still in the prototype phase, I haven't had time to build-in all the necessary safeguards. It... It's never reached this stage of the process before."

"And once it's done? What's it supposed to do?"

Zola nervously shrugged his shoulders. "It's supposed to teleport us to one of our other bases, but… in this state it could take us anywhere. I believe the expression you have is: 'damned if you do, damned if you don't'?"

"Be that as it may, Zola-" Cap was cut off suddenly by an expansion of blue light from the sphere, drenching the room in a supernaturally strange glow.

"Too late now." Arnim put his arms down, staring at the flashing lights.

A HYDRA soldier lost his nerve, throwing his rifle to the floor and dashing past Bucky in an attempt to reach the stairs. The startling motion ignited everyone else to react; one of the American soldiers pivoting around to spray bullets across the wall in pursuit. In response, another HYDRA troop fired his weapon, one of the rounds accidentally piercing Captain America's right triceps.

The impact caused his arm to swing back, the hand gripping the grenade reflexively tightening. Excess pressure caused the item to slip free of his hold, leaving only the lever in its place. Time passed in slow motion as Rogers watched the explosive free-fall, Zola's face contorting in horror. Cap tried to lash out with his foot, hoping to kick it as far away as possible before it detonated.

In a split-second Zola's device flashed, sending out a wave of sapphire energy through the atoms of every living person in the stone chamber. By the time it reached the wall, they were gone.

Rogers' felt his boot connect with the grenade, knocking it far away. His line of sight followed it until it plunked harmlessly into the water.

The water. He realized. For a few heartbeats, he stood in place, seeing the lazy waves lapping against the shore, feeling the warm sand shifting under his feet. Under the water, the grenade detonates with a muffled boom.

American and HYDRA soldiers took in their new surroundings, a beach roughly 30-meters wide, bordered by a wall of tropical trees and bush of vibrant green. In the air was the ambient sound of birds, wind rushing through the leaves, and the ocean that stretched to the horizon. Neither side knew quite what to do at first. Should they fight? Should they run? Should they panic?

The new situation apparently had hit a reset button, the HYDRA fighters now regaining their sense of hostility, leveled their weapons at the outnumbered Americans.

"Look out!" Screamed Bucky. Rounds began to fly as both sides resumed combat, the change of scenery doing nothing to assuage the instinct to wipe the other out.

An American and a HYDRA body hit the sand across from each other, their lifeblood filtering down into the grains. Zola hurried to flee, falling on his stomach and losing a shoe in the process before scrambling animalistically on all fours towards the concealment of the jungle.

Rogers saw the scientist out of the corner of his vision, but the more immediate concern of keeping his men alive kept him in the fight. Tossing his shield mid-sprint, the disk struck an enemy soldier in the chest, knocking the man off his feet and into the back of another. Catching the shield on the rebound, he gestured for his men to follow him out of the open space and into the forest.

"Find cover!" He shouted, holding his shield up to protect the retreat of the four men he has left, two of them hauling their injured buddy, Bucky the last of them to disappear.

"We've got to find Zola!" One of the HYDRA men commanded, pointing to where Armin had fled for his life. When the last of the dozen of Red Skull's faithful sprinted into the bush, the beach was left peaceful, save for the lone body of the abandoned HYDRA trooper.

Near the spot where the grenade had exploded underwater, a throng of bubbles reached the surface, boiling upwards in a white froth. Drawn by the detonation, an ominous shadow moved beneath the surface, an automatous wave stalking towards the shore.

THUND…. THUND…

It was more than a sound, it was a sensation in the ground. The wounded HYDRA soldier opened his eyes with a start and a gasp, the breath stopped short in his throat by the blood that came spurting back up. He tried to turn onto his belly but found parts of his body unwilling to follow his impulse. Begrudgingly his left arm was able to flop onto his chest, where he felt the slickness surrounding the entry wounds,

THUND… THUND…

The ground shook with the tremors. He turned his head and sucked in a breath of air when he saw it. Again, the gasp was confounded by the blood filling his lungs and instead of the air needed to scream, only crimson came forth and bubbles over his lips. Sheer terror stretched his eyes, nostrils flaring as he began to hyperventilate despite his injuries.

THUND… THUND…

His one usable hand, possessed of a newfound frantic strength, lashed out and grabbed hold of the sand at his side, clawing through the grains to find some purchase to drag himself away. Stark panic stole his reason, and the harder he scrabbled, the deeper hole he dug. Finally, he tried at last to brutally heave himself over, but there was simply not enough strength left in his upper body. Precious adrenaline-infused blood continued to seep into the sand.

A shadow fell over him as he became still, realizing that no hope of salvation would come from escape. The glare of the sun like a halo, it obscured the details of the shadow caster. All the petrified man on the beach could see clearly however, all he could focus on, was the teeth.

The jungle offered a different flavor of war than he was accustomed to. Indeed, this type of methodical and mind-twisting warfare was still a few decades away from his time. Steve Rogers raised his wounded arm and swung it back down in an effort to work through the pain. His physical enhancements doing much to keep him going, but the bullet had grazed the bone, making him wince with every movement.

Aside from Bucky and himself, four of his men had arrived with them, one of which was propped against a tree at the moment, choking up his own blood. They had no MEDEVAC support to call in, and there was no place for them to take him. Whatever meager first-aid items they carried were all they could offer him. Cap knew it was not enough.

This war against the Axis Powers and HYDRA had chewed-up the lives of millions of young men with an insatiable appetite. Corporal Higgins was a sharp kid, never hesitated to follow Captain America into the maw of danger. Now that bravery and loyalty had all but killed him, his reward was to bleed-out in some forsaken jungle in god-knows-where. There was no saving him, Higgins knew it, everyone knew it.

Kneeling at his side, Rogers put a hand on his shoulder. Higgins took his hand away from where it was clutching a bevy of thick leaves to his chest and hung it over Cap's arm, acknowledging without a word that he was at peace with the end of his story. The two men were staring into each other's eyes when the light went out in the Corporal's and his hand fell away.

"Cap…" Standing guard, Bucky glanced over his shoulder, rifle still tucked into his shoulder pocket. "We can't stay here, we need to find something to figure out where the hell we are."

"I know." Taking back his hand, Rogers took the shield from its position on his back and turned to his left. "But we've got something to take care of here first." Gripping the disk on either side, he spiked the bottom edge into the soil and began scooping a hole.

"I don't understand this!" Slumping onto a rocky outgrowth to catch his breath, Arnim Zola was in disbelief, his hair plastered to his scalp, clothes disheveled and covered with sweat-stains. "There should be a HYDRA base right here! The machine is calibrated to send us to predetermined coordinates."

Standing around him, the rest of the HYDRA soldiers took positions. More than one was breathing heavily, searching the green through the sights of their weapons. Loyal duty aside, they knew Zola was their best chance at getting back where they belonged. There was an ever-present specter of being watched in this jungle-like something was waiting just behind the veil for them to lower their guard.

A rustling in the branches above drew all muzzles upwards, but nothing more gave itself away.

"We don't belong here." One said, his voice shaking.

Zola put a hand over his forehead to cover it from the sun. "I think we are on an island. Somewhere tropic judging by the vegetation and brutality of the sun."

"The Caribbean?" A soldier asked.

The scientist shook his head. "Too close to America. If I had to guess, the south-Pacific, Polynesia somewhere. Close enough to be in contact with our Japanese allies."

A bird-like trill came from the bush, eliciting the soldiers to all turn in the direction of the sound. Then another was heard on the opposite side of their perimeter, signaling back to the other.

"It sounds… big." Zola said, parsing the words with an audible gulp.

"Brrr-aaaak!" Emerging from yet a third angle, a creature's head emerged from the green. A row of tall, orange feathers was the first to rise into view, followed by a huge beak, behind which were curious bright green eyes. Relative to the men, the head was at eye level, and about the size of a horse's head. It tilted to the left, studying the hesitant humans.

"Die Teufel ist das ding?" While they were all focused, another of the creatures exposed itself, issuing its own series of trills and chirps.

"Another one!" Unsure of what they were encountering, the HYDRA soldiers began to close ranks around Zola, keeping their weapons raised at the high-ready.

Behind Arnim, the full body of one of the large birds leaped onto the rock he was resting on. He dived away with a startled yelp, in time to see the upright avian squawking at him, a set of folded claws held close to its breast. On the feet, Zola noticed, was sets of raptorial talons, the kind made for rending flesh, replete with sickle-shaped claws for disemboweling.

A soldier screamed suddenly when another of the creatures leaped from the bush, landing on his back and pinning him to the ground. There, it lashed out with its heavy beak and struck him in the back of the skull, silencing his cries.

Seeing all they needed to, the HYDRA men opened fire, spraying their bullets more than anything else in their defensive frenzy. One of the avian creatures was shredded, splattering blood and feathers as it stumbled backward from its prey in a mix of shock and agony. The others scattered into the green as quickly as they had appeared.

Like the soldiers on the beach, the animals left their injured kin behind, forsaking it to secure their own safety. Cautiously, Zola and his men circled the dying predator, fingers on their triggers. Fearing the humans, it lashed out with its talons, managing to carve a gash into one of their thighs, tearing out flesh in the blink of an eye. The other soldiers unleashed another hasty salvo of bullets into its torso.

As one more of Zola's guards collapsed screaming like a banshee, the bird loosed its own piercing wail, the mortal wounds, at last, seizing the last drops of life from it. Beside it, the HYDRA man ceased flailing and went into shock, going pale and passing out from the massive hemorrhaging. Combat medical care not a part of the Red Skull's training camp, his former comrades simply looked on as the last breath escaped his lungs.

"What the hell is this place?" Arnim muttered aloud to no-one in particular.

Another feral cry overcame them all. Much like that of the fearsome raptors, only far louder. It was accompanied by the sound of branches bending and breaking, giving way to something full of power and fury bearing down on them.

A mohawk of sunset-shaded feathers breached the green, a more mature version of the one sported by the dead creature. This set, however, towered two-stories above the ground.

"KRAAAAWWK!" A beak big enough to snap-up a man whole tore through the branches and saw its spawn slaughtered on the forest floor. Its gaze transferred to the men and narrowed with primitive hatred.

"Shoot it! Shoot it!" The guards opened fire, infuriating the beast even further, causing it to charge, stampeding towards them on tree-like legs. Layers of feathers absorbed the impact of the bullets as it bore down on them, doing little more than hitting with soft thuds before falling away.

They ran, scrambling before it as one hapless man was plucked from the ground in its beak and crushed instantly. Zola was in the lead, running without care to what was ahead of him so long as it didn't bar his path. Damn his guards, damn the missing facility, and damn HYDRA just so long as he could put more distance between himself and that horrible monster.

He could hear it behind him, screeching, running down the men as they screamed in terror. He had never known fear like this. True, The Red Skull was a master of intimidation, but he was still human. This was an instinctual fright, a rabbit escaping the fangs of the wolf, his heart about to burst in his chest.

"Hold it!" Zola nearly toppled over as he came to a sudden halt, mouth open to suck in a breath as he stared at Captain America before him.

Standing with his few remaining men to either side, Rogers held his palm out to keep Arnim a few paces away. But in spite of the presence of his enemy, the scientist gave him an expression of abject dread, stuttering and gesturing back in the direction he had come.

"Something's got him spooked, Cap," Bucky said, slowly bringing his cheek away from the stock of his rifle.

"KRAAAAWWWK!"

All heads lifted to the sound of the creature.

"I take it, not one of yours," Rogers said, scanning the green.

Just then, the HYDRA soldiers emerged, striking the Americans back into hypervigilance.

"Put down your-!"

Before Captain America could finish, the HYDRA soldiers split, dashing to either side and dispersing, Zola himself choosing to join those who went left.

Immediately put off guard by the behavior of enemies who now seemed more preoccupied, Steve Rogers realized that fighting HYDRA might be the least of his worries for now.

"Stick together!" He ordered, raising his shield protectively. "And keep your eyes peeled!"

"Ain't gotta tell me twice." One of his soldiers muttered.

"We've gotta find some high ground, get a bearing on this place."

THUND… THUND…

They felt it in the ground, lightly at first, but with growing power.

THUND… THUND…

"I think those squids had the right idea, Cap! Let's beat-feet!" Just as the five Americans turned and began running, the avian-giant came crashing through the boughs, beak wide open and screeching.

Rogers let his men pass him, allowing the monster to set its focus on him. "I'll catch-up!" He called out, bringing his shield to bear. The beast struck, intent on snatching him up. But even the enormous beak failed to defeat the combination of Adamantium and Vibranium, hitting the shield with an audible crack. While Rogers was shoved to a knee, the beast recoiled in confusion and pain, flailing its head from side to side.

"Cap we gotta go!" One of his men cried, waving an arm. Steve turned and saw him, cursing for a moment that any of them had been so loyal that they refused to leave him behind. But he saw the thing moving behind his soldier, the seconds going by in slow motion.

Before he even knew the danger was there, the faithful soldier was crushed underfoot like a grape in stride by something even more terrible than the feather-crested predator. Bellowing a roar that shook Rogers to the bone, the new monster passed over him with the next step, advancing without notice towards the recovering raptor. Seeing only the underbelly, it reminded him of one of the dinosaurs he had seen on an aged poster for the movie "The Lost World".

The once-fearsome creature was too late in reacting to his native foe, heaving itself bodily away, just not in time. Rogers watched as teeth almost as long as his forearm clamped down on the avian beast's neck and swung it back around. It was a furious struggle of muscle and savagery, the two monsters howling and clawing at one another. The avian snapped with its bludgeoning beak and lashed out with its talons, trying in vain to fend off the superior predator.

The inadvertent savior, his foe's neck still in its jaws, threw it to the ground, pinning one of its legs down with a thunderous stomp. It was now that Captain America was able to take in the breadth of the interloper. Standing on two legs seething with muscle, covered in sea-green scales, the dinosaur-like beast violently thrashed its prodigious head back-and-forth until something thick snapped and the avian's struggle ceased.

Possessing a body that had to be 19-20 ft. at the shoulders, the saurian let the limp neck go and postured over the corpse, bracing a forelimb over its face. Perhaps in a reflexive show of dominance, it loosed an ear-splitting roar, challenging any to come and take his prize from him. Acting as a counter-balance, the tail beat side-to-side, the tip ending in a paddle.

Rogers lay on his side, staring breathlessly in a mixture of astonishment and a natural instinct to not draw the carnivore's attention.

"Cap!" Bucky cursed, dashing to a knee beside his leader. "I think I just saw Jacobs-"

At the same time, Steve Rogers and Bucky locked eyes with the monster, blood staining its lower jaw. It appraised them for a few seconds, making curious guttural noises.

"Do we…thank him or..?"

"No, Buck. I think we just run."

Slowly, so as not to give the beast anything sudden to react to, the men rose to their feet, feral eyes tracking them, lifting in tandem.

"Just like that old dog with the broken canine in the neighborhood." Easing a protective arm in front of his friend, Steve backed them away with careful steps. "Running will only make it chase you."

The saurian barked, whether it was a warning or something else, they could not say, but it did make then swallow a hard lump of nerves.

The spatter of gunfire erupted from the branches of a nearby tree.

"Get the hell out of there!" In the upper boughs of an adjacent tree, one taller than the beast, the other two American soldiers fired down, one of them possessing the squad's light machine gun that burned through rounds by the seconds. Bullets assailed the left flank of the creature, pinging off as they would against the side of a tank, the hide impenetrable.

The monster let out a howl of rage and swung its tail. As thick around as the width of a grown man's shoulder, the tree trunk was shattered like a toothpick where the tail smashed into it, knocking the bottom portion to a 45° angle to the right. The top half went in the opposite direction, collapsing against another tree, the men hanging on just barely.

Sergeant Tom Wulvens and Private First Class Eddie Clopper dangled from the branches by grip-strength alone, PFC Clopper holding on to the machine gun out of pure training reflex. Sgt. Wulvens managed to pull himself up and sling his arms over the branch, holding on to his rifle with two fingers. The beast lunged, a forest of teeth opening to pick them off like ripe cherries.

A star-spangled shield struck just below the modern dinosaur's eye, causing it to flinch at the last second and reach up with a forelimb and caress the point of impact. Rogers caught the shield on the rebound, sprinting towards the prehistoric predator. He jumped onto the head of the fallen avian, using it to leap into the air shield first in a desperate gambit to draw the creature's ire away from his men.

Captain America came to a dead stop when the shield was caught in the living fossil's teeth, breath hot with fresh blood filling his nostrils.

Pure chance. Steve thought in the moment, holding on by the straps of his shield and looking at the fangs just inches away. With a quick flick of its neck, the monster cast man and shield aside. Rogers' back hit the trunk of a tree with a sickening thwack, his spine bending around the wood and forcing out a sharp grunt of pain.

Bucky took a prone position and put his vision down the sights of his rifle, waiting for the right chance to send a bullet into its eye and hopefully scare if off. "Come on you son of a bitch! Look my way!"

Instead, the creature latched onto the severed portion of the tree with its mouth and tore it out of the boughs, heaving it across the space and towards Barnes. As he bounded from his position, he saw Clopper lose his grip and fall to the ground as the tree-top continued past him. Wulvens, who had held on, was crushed when the tree hit the ground and bounced into a roll. Broken branches and broken human littering the path.

Bucky had only missed being steam-rolled by a few feet, throwing himself with all the power his legs could generate into the bush.

PFC. Clopper, lifted his face from the dirt, realizing to his horror that he was back on the ground.

THUND… THUND…

A throaty growl put the hairs on the back of his neck on end, a mortal shiver ran icicles up his spine. With the humid sensation of breath washing over his back, he wondered where Cap was.

His final scream was cut off when the fangs crunched down on his ribcage, crushing the life out of him, bones shattered and organs popped. The beast lifted him in his jaws, flipping him up only to catch deeper in the gullet before chewing once and swallowing.

Rogers pushed himself to his knees, jaw clenched from the pain wracking his body. He saw where the tree-half had been lobbed, saw the awkwardly posed body of his soldier, saw the blood dripping from the dinosaur's chin as it licked its chops.

Something sprinted through the bush. Bucky… Cap realized. So too did the monster, its head swinging in his direction.

Batting a heavy leaf-laden bush aside as he ran, Sgt. Barnes stuck his rifle out behind him and fired blindly. Tree limbs breaking proof that neither timber nor ammunition was going to be an obstacle for his pursuer. Nothing he had seen in the war prepared him for this. Seeing men fall from gunfire and close combat with the enemy was one thing, terrible as it was to become accustomed to. This was something far more primal, ancient parts of his brain reacting to instinct embedded in his DNA. Run his body told him, run as fast as you can.

With every thud of the monster's foot, he could feel it closing the gap, his frantic sprint only delaying the inevitable for a few moments.

"Buck! Take cover!" He heard call out. Training reflex went into effect, and he dived for cover behind a tree.

A grenade bounced off the thick hide of the creature a half-second before it exploded beside its head. The detonation was only matched by the beast's shriek. Disoriented, it thrashed its head from side-to-side, uttering sharp barks and wails. For the time being, it turned away from Bucky.

Captain America came dashing low out of the green, reaching his friend, they crouched on the opposite side of the tree.

"Wulens and Clopper…" Barnes began panting, his face twisted in terror and anguish. "They're gone, Cap, they're-"

"I know, Buck." Gripping his shoulders with both hands, Rogers looked his friend in the eye, steeling his courage. "We can't help them right now, okay? Right now we gotta keep ourselves alive."

The creaking of the tree caused both men to look up just in time to see the whole thing being pushed over in their direction. Braced against the tree-trunk, the dinosaur's foot toppled the entire thing. Rogers, still gripping Bucky, heaved his friend with all his strength out of harm's way before bringing his own shield up.

Having rousted his prey, the monster reached out with open jaws for the one left behind. Again, the rim of the shield was all that prevented the teeth from biting into human flesh. Unlike before, however, the lunge did not stop. Frustrated by the elusiveness of his quarry, the beast pushed onwards, grinding Steve into the dirt and plowing onward.

He cried out as rocks and other debris raked his back, like being worked over a cheese-grater. But he knew his life depended on keeping hold of the shield, so he screamed instead. He wasn't aware of how far he was being pushed, feeling every millisecond of it dig into his back, tearing his uniform and scraping away layers of skin.

He was lifted, hands of iron still not surrendering his shield, and dangled high above the ground. Something clenched his left leg, and looking down, saw that it was the digits of the creature's right foreclaw wrapped around his calf. The pressure was slow at first, the arm trying to pull him free, but with one quick tug he was separated and held aloft.

Incredibly, the monster let him go, choosing instead to focus its attention on the shield lodged in its teeth, awkwardly trying to use its lower jaw to displace it. The irritation proved enough of a distraction for Rogers to hit the ground and begin crawling through the leaves. In a high-crawl himself, Bucky met him halfway and helped to drag him the rest of the way to cover.

"Ah!" Setting his back against a fungus-covered stone, Steve cursed the sting of his exposed nerves on the rough surface. Quickly, Barnes put a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise, both of them listening intently for the beast. The ponderous stomping of its feet stopped abruptly, either because it had succeeded in dislodging the oral obstruction, or it realized that its prey had escaped. Either way, they made no move, remaining perfectly still. The only thing that carried through the silence, was the sound of running water.

In unison, Steve and James turned their heads in the same direction, where they heard what sounded like a river flowing.

The scent of blood filled its nostrils, fresh and spiked with adrenaline. A trail of bright crimson along the ground betrayed the injured, an easy track for a predator to follow. He lowered his head and pinching the rim of the shield with the very extremity of his claws, managed to free it.

Leaving the monster on the other side of a veil of forestry, Cap and Bucky made for the source of the water. Rogers with his arm around his shoulder for support. For just a moment a rustle in the branches above made them flinch before hurrying onward.

"Did Zola send us back in freakin' time?" Bucky asked.

"He didn't say anything about time-travel, but…"

In complete indifference to their dilemma, a long low growl crept up behind them. They increased their pace, hampered by the imposition of Rogers' deceptive body weight. Hearing the running water get closer and closer, Rogers swept aside a stem of several wide leaves to reveal a dead-drop cliff not two feet away.

They halted with a wavering balance, fighting momentum at the last second. Down below, roughly 30 meters, ran a dark river snaking through the green on either side. Captain America mentally ran the estimations; at 25ft wide, they could make the jump easy, but it might be jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

The monster's leg demolished a wall of young trees, his hungry spread of teeth emerging into view. It was not uncommon for small prey to evade him in the dense jungle, but the musk of blood could not be hidden from his powerful sense of smell. By that alone, he could have pursued them. Especially with this human's blood possessing such a strange and exotic flavor.

Rogers and Bucky turned as the monster roared, seeing its prey hesitating on the precipice of the cliff. Cap knew there was no way they'd outrun the predator now, and without his shield, they were out of lucky breaks.

Into the fire…

Steve grabbed hold of Bucky and heaving his own body, threw them both over the edge. They hit the water feet first, the coolness of the water momentarily soothing the shredded flesh on his back. It was murky under the surface for the brief flash of time his eyes were open before he closed his eyes and mouth, not knowing what strange microbes and parasites might inhabit these tropical waters.

Popping back up into the air and sucking in gasps of breath, they glanced immediately to see the dinosaur perched on the lip of the bluff, staring back down at them curiously. The river carried them off to the creature's right, the current stronger than it seemed from outside.

"Giving the slip to a dinosaur…" Sgt. Barnes muttered, spitting out a mouthful of water. "Now there's something to tell the boys about. If we ever get back."

"We'll make it back, Buck."

Watching the two small creatures float downstream, the mammoth carnivore took a step back from the edge. With one quick step forward, it leaped into the air bellowing a roar, pulling both legs towards its chest as it went over. Like the humans it landed feet-first, creating a tremendous splash as it disappeared under the foamy waves. Unlike the men, it did not re-emerge.

Having just witnessed 20-tons of primeval predator jump in after them, a traded set of worried stares between Bucky and Rogers confirmed that they needed to extricate themselves from the river.

A scaly snout breached the water's surface, snorting a gust of air. Just behind it, a set of bestial eyes rolled back protective translucent eyelids to get a clear view. Dorsal plates preceded a rippling wake manifesting a few meters behind, propelling the monster with purpose.

"For the love of Christ!" Grabbing onto Rogers' belt, Bucky used his left arm to start swimming for his life towards the river bank.

"We probably could use a miracle right about now." Paddling with his legs, Steve did what he could to aid in their angled movement. The current held them like the newspaper boats they used to sail in the gutters on a rainy day, growing stronger with every passing meter.

Bucky got close enough to just scrape his fingertips at the green fronds hanging out over the water, snapping some off as he tried for one strong enough to tether them in the flow.

"Come on!" Chancing a lunge, Bucky finally grabbed hold of a root jutting out from the soil, its fibers creaking from the exertion of supporting both men. Rogers helped himself by swinging over and clutching a handful of soil, using it for an anchor.

The monster raised its whole head above the surface, opening its maw to chomp down on the water with a throaty growl.

"Hurry!" Clambering up the vertical face of the back, they had only moments before the car-sized set of jaws would catch-up to them. Bucky used the thicker root at the base of the lanky tree to haul himself over the edge and rolled over to assist his friend. But a patch of dirt broke away and Rogers' foot slipped, his fingers clawing through the mud as he went.

Bucky dove, catching onto Cap's wrist before he could descend any farther. But the Sergeant had sacrificed sure leverage in the process and in the next second, he too began sliding headlong towards the water.

Something grabbed his ankle, however, seizing it with a tight grip. He was beyond the ledge and could not see at first, choosing instead to take the gamble and bring his other hand down to get both on securing Rogers.

The strength of all three combined was enough to drag the men over the edge of the river bank. Hands, Bucky could now realize had been what saved him. As he slid on his belly across the lip, they readjusted to latch onto his belt and collar, hands possessing a startlingly powerful grip.

Rogers looked up to see a ragged-looking man behind Bucky, black hair wild and unkempt, a matching beard not trimmed in several weeks. More curious, was the tattered and stained clothes he wore, instantly recognizable as a military uniform of some kind. That was when he saw through the bushy exterior and really saw the man's face. He was Japanese.

"Isoide! Kochiradesu!" The stranger barked, motioning towards the jungle. Bucky and the Nihongo heaved Rogers to his feet hurrying him into the green.

He led the Americans along a well-hidden path until at last, they came to a crevice in a rock-face. Going first, the stranger shimmed sideways through the crevice, keeping a hand on Steve Rogers to lead him along beside.

The very air vibrated with the roar of the monster climbing up the river bank, foreclaws first then the feet goring into the side of the mud to create steps. Washed away by the water, the scent of his prey was faint, no longer a solid trail. But it was still there, tiny particles wafting in the gentle breeze, the unmistakable musk of blood leading into the jungle.

THUND… THUND…

Barnes shot a look over his shoulder and saw a massive shadow moving through the forestry. His body stiffened and clung to the rock. Whereas the scrawny Japanese man had shuffled through the fissure easily, Rogers' meaty upper-body proved a bit too thick to not scrape on the walls. Captain America had to grind his teeth together to prevent himself from screaming in pain, his exposed and tender wounds raked by the poriferous volcano-born stone.

After a few tense moments of the torturous process, Steve was through, stumbling onto his hands and knees inside a dark chamber. The stranger wrapped an arm around him and drug him over to the wall, out of sight from outside. Barnes then quickly worked his way through to the inner space, taking his own position on the wall opposite the others.

The light beaming in from outside disappeared, dropping the chamber into near-total darkness. Heavy but measured breathing made no pretense of what had provided the eclipse, the various noises made in the monster's throat echoed in the confined space. The shadow shifted, and now a strange, slick, slapping sound could be heard. Bucky leaned forward just enough to make sense of what it was doing.

"It's licking the blood off the wall… It's got a taste for human…"