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Chapter 25

Discoveries

The Atlantic Ocean

Off the eastern seaboard of the United States, half a mile above sea level, a small cloud bank hovered in what was otherwise a blue and cloudless sky. There was nothing particularly unusual about the cloud, other than that it hung a little too low, and seemed almost stationary. Air traffic control was routing all airline traffic carefully past this space. Today this supposedly empty space was off limits, because within that cloud bank was nothing less than a floating fortress, the technological marvel that was the SHIELD Helicarrier. Officially designated the MAAP (Mobile Aerial Assault Platform), the Helicarrier was the most closely guarded secret in the SHIELD arsenal.

Inside the Carrier, an ensign stepped on to the command bridge.

"Director Fury, you have a call on your priority line. It's Captain America, sir."

Fury looked up from the report he was reviewing. "Damn." He reached for his phone, taking a moment to compose himself. "Cap. What can I do for you?"

"Direct and to the point as ever, Colonel. I'll do likewise. Those Hydra prisoners you have, I'd like to talk to them."

"So would I. NSA has them, I've been told."

"I'm not in the mood, so let's cut the crap. You have them. On the Carrier. And I want to talk to them."

"Cap, even if I had them—which I'm not admitting to—I'd have to go by the book and maintain isolation until my people could fully debrief them. That's standard procedure. I can't break protocol on this, not even for you. That's if I had them."

"You have them. And I'm going to see them. Where are you, Fury?"

Fury checked to see which dummy-line this call was routed to. "Washington."

"So when I come on board the Carrier, you won't be there?"

Fury sat up straight. He waved to get the security chief's attention, putting the call on speaker. "Where are you calling from?"

"Look out the main docking bay, starboard side. Just below the running lights."

The chief brought the image up on his computer screen. The camera showed nothing but the empty white clouds. Then it panned down, and they saw him.

Fury muted the phone. "Sonofagodamned…how the hell did he do that, Dodd?"

"I…I don't know sir. Radar should have picked him up, but—"

"What about heat signature, motion sensors?"

"Something that small, going slow enough…computer probably kicked it out, thought it was a flock of birds'."

"Flock of birds my eye. Open the damned door."

Five minutes later, Fury on the landing pad, watching as Cap brought his sky-cycle to a stop. The agents were wide-eyed at the sight of Captain America—even the ones who had seen him before. It ticked Fury off even more than he already was, though he understood it. The man had a way of taking over a room just by showing up. The deck officer came forward, saluting as Cap stepped off the platform. Cap returned a crisp salute of his own.

"At ease, Chief. Permission to come aboard?"

"Permission granted, sir."

Fury shook his head. Son of a bitch was laying it on good, looking for all the world like a Norman Rockwell painting as he stood amidst a sea of admiration. Fury decided against offering Cap a handshake.

"That was slick work, Avenger," he said, dismissing the security detail. "Tracking us isn't supposed to be that easy. Want to tell me how you did it?"

"I'll tell you after I see the prisoners. Or are you still maintaining that you don't have them?" Cap planted himself like the Rock of Gibraltar, piercing Fury with a withering look. Fury knew that look. He tapped the com-badge on his chest.

"Sitwell, meet me in the detention center. Cap wants a chat with our guest."

It took the turbo lift a minute to span the Carrier, which was six times the length of a football field, and three times as wide. Running six decks from top to bottom, the Helicarrier was by far the largest aircraft ever created. It ran on a bank of sixteen repulsor powered anti-gravity engines, backed up by eight giant helicopter rotors, giving the craft its most distinctive feature, and its misleading name. As a final back up, four massive solid fuel rockets were mounted on the sides of the Carrier. They could land the craft in an emergency. It was one of the most complex and sophisticated machines ever devised, decades ahead of its nearest rival. Even the technology of Victor Von Doom, the mad genius of Latviera, lagged behind the Helicarrier, at least in terms of sheer scope. It was SHIELD's most potent weapon, allowing them to land up to three divisions of troopers, and a full wing of air support, anywhere on the globe. As the lift sped on its way, Cap broke the silence. He never uttered the word illness. There was no need.

"How long have you known?"

"Definitively? Three weeks. Four days. A few odd hours. Suspected it a while longer."

"And you never thought to tell me?"

"There were…complications."

"I'm sure. How deeply was SHIELD involved?"

Fury stiffened at that. "This was Holder's game, all the way. Please believe me on that."

"Actually, I think I do, but then again, I'm stupid that way. I tend to think loyalty and honor still means something. But you didn't answer my question. How deeply was SHIELD involved?"

"The plan was hatched twelve years ago, before I became Director. It was only a contingency, purely theoretical. When I learned about it, I dismantled it. CIA was on board with the planning. Holder never let it go, kept it in his hip pocket. Once you blocked him in the courts, he must have decided it was time. I'm sorry, Cap."

"I'm guessing you were behind the formula finding its way to Henry Pym?"

Fury nodded. "Not for nothing, but I'm going to catch serious flak for that. May lose my job over it."

"I may die over it," "What do you want, a medal? You used to be somebody I could trust, Fury."

"You still can. I'm doing everything possible to help you. But I have to protect SHIELD. I hope you can understand that."

"I intend to burn Holder over this, and anyone else involved. Anyone."

Fury looked at Cap, surprised. "You haven't heard? Holder was found dead three hours ago."

Cap's eyes registered shock. Then he set his jaw. "Was it you?"

"No."

Cap hit the emergency stop button. "Was it you?" he demanded.

"No!"

"Then who?"

"It's being called a suicide. Left a note saying he couldn't live with the disgrace."

"You don't sound convinced."

"You knew the man. That sound like Holder to you? My people are gathering intel. When we find out more, I'll let you know, that's a promise."

Cap chuckled at that, but there was little humor in the sound. "How much do you know about my first mission?"

"Nineteen-forty. You broke up a big spy ring in Times Square. It's famous, everybody knows it."

"That was my first public mission. My first mission was a few months earlier, covert. You never read the classified reports?"

"No."

"The assignment came from military intelligence. Supposed to be a simple job, small band of fifth column spies, I was told. Turned out to be a full squad of SS commandos. I stumbled on them wiring a charge to a munitions shipment headed for England. They damned near cut me to ribbons before I found cover. They'd have got me if not for a couple of MPs who rushed the Nazi's. They died, of course. I managed to return fire, and drove them off. The ship blew up, killing fourteen sailors, and the Nazi's got away, scot-free. You should read the report sometime. A comedy of errors, with a little tragedy thrown in for good measure."

Cap hit the button, restarting the lift. "That was one of my better experiences with 'intelligence', so spare me the promises. If you want to impress me, do your job."

The door opened and Cap stepped out. Fury scrambled to catch up. As they approached the detention block, Fury took his I.D. card from his jacket pocket, swiping it through the lock. He stepped into the office and his people looked up, their eyes wide as Captain America followed behind him. Fury spoke.

"I need the room. You too, Sitwell. Give me five minutes." If this stung his pride, Sitwell did not show it. He silently left the office with the others. When they were alone, Fury turned to Cap.

"You gave it to me pretty good just now. Guess I had it coming. But I don't apologize for the things I do—even the shitty things, and there are a lot of those. It's a dirty job. I do it because it needs doing. I don't deny that SHIELD's made mistakes. Most of what we do is guesswork, trying to connect invisible dots with a blindfold on. We do our best to follow the rule of law, fighting enemies with no such compunction. At the end of the day, we win more than we lose and I don't apologize for that. Command is a hard business. You of all people should know that."

Cap's granite stare had not softened.

"Are you finished? Because I have a speech of my own. Command is hard. And the hardest part is remembering what you're supposed to be fighting for. That rule of law you 'try' to follow isn't some little thing…it's everything. The Constitution isn't optional, so don't give me some song and dance about how hard you have it. SHIELD is not above the law. Neither are you."

Fury and Cap stood, eyes locked. Not many could hold up under Cap's harsh gaze without flinching. Fury managed it. Barely. "I guess we both know where we stand."

"I guess we do," Cap said "Let's see the prisoners."

"Prisoner, only have one. The other three swallowed suicide chips, never got a word out of them."

Cap steamed. "Don't your people know Hydra better than that? They should have been searched and stripped of all contraband right away—you know their M.O."

"Don't lay it on us, it happened while they were under N.Y.P.D. custody. Got a beef, take it up with them."

Fury stormed out of the office and Cap followed. A short walk down the corridor led them to the cell block, where Sitwell was waiting. The monitors at the guard station showed a man in a gray, ill-fitting jumpsuit, lying on a bare cot.

"Randall Brunner," Sitwell said, handing a data-pad to Cap. "Second-Lieutenant, United States Army. Dishonorably discharged for affiliating with racist hate groups, fell off the grid a few years ago. A textbook bad-actor."

Cap scanned the information and handed the device back to Sitwell. "Hydra's bread and butter. Has he said anything?"

"Not yet. The last interrogation ended an hour ago. We're…" he looked uncertainly to Fury.

"Go ahead," Fury said, "We're what?"

"…We're set to resume sleep deprivation at 1900 hours."

"Open the door," Cap said. "I want to have a little chin-wag."

"Regulations require an armed guard."

Fury looked at Sitwell askance. "We've got Captain America. He was squashing Hydra agents when you were popping your first pimple. I think we'll be safe."

The door to the detention cell opened and Fury led the way. He stopped in front of the prisoner, who was laying on his side, facing the wall. "Okay scumbag, on your feet."

With deliberate slowness, the prisoner turned. A grin slowly spread across his lips at spotting Cap.

"Forgive me for not rising," Bruner said, running his hand over the restraining belt tethering to the cot. Fury nodded to Stilwell, who knelt and removed the lock.

"How hospitable," the Hydra agent said. "It will go back on once you leave, Captain leaves, but frankly, the preparation we undergo in Hydra is far more intense than SHIELD's feeble 'interrogation' techniques." Brunner laughed. "Your side is weak, Captain. I like being here, it encourages me. Hydra's victory is assured."

"Absolutely," Cap said. "Your other nine offensives were just practice. This time, you really mean it."

Brunner's eyes narrowed, the smug humor leaving his features. "We only have to win once. The Vandals sent wave after wave against the gates of Rome. Finally, the gates fell. These gates will fall, too."

"The Vandals plunged Europe into centuries of darkness. Is that how Hydra sees itself?"

"Hydra sees itself as victors. Our great leader will restore order to this decadent world. Your society is weak, polluted. Ours is pure, and strong. The Skull will be magnanimous to those who flock to his banner, and his wrath will be terrible to those who oppose him."

"Thanks for the tip." Cap turned to Fury. "I need a few minutes with him. Alone"

Fury searched Cap's eyes. "Lets go," he said to his Second-in-Command. As he neared the exit, Fury turned to Cap. "Five minutes."

The door swooshed shut. Cap took the Avengers com-unit from his belt and touched in a command, setting it on the cot. "I just scrambled their audio. I know your boss prefers these little messages to be delivered in confidence."

Brunner smiled. "He sends word." A pall fell over the Hydra agent, his eyes closing. When he next spoke, his voice was changed, taking on the quality of stone dragging across cold iron, Bavarian inflecting his speech where before it was pure Midwest American.

"Greetings, Steven. I was distressed to hear the news of your illness…but I bring you a message of hope. Soon, I will summon you, and you will discover the depths of my generosity. I hold in my hands the solution to your problem. If you answer my call, I promise, you will not die. Or if you prefer, stay, and watch your world fall before my onslaught. I look forward to your decision. Until we meet again, my brother…"

Slowly, Brunner opened his eyes. "…Did you hear my Lord's message?"

"Yes. You'll be happy to learn I'm turning you back over to SHIELD. You can show us how tough you are when they resume their interrogations. I've heard Hydra agents brag before about how nothing can make them talk. They always break," he said. "Always."

"Don't mistake me for those weaklings who dishonor their sacred pledge!" Brunner said, his eyes wide and spittle flying from his mouth. "I allowed myself to be taken to deliver the message. My lord's will has been done. Now, he rewards me with a seat in Valhalla…"

Brunner clamped his mouth closed, with a small snapping sound. His face went pale, his pupils dilated, and foam gathered at the corners of his mouth. Cap instantly hit the alarm. He grabbed the Hydra agent, trying to pry his mouth open. Brunner pulled away, gurgling his last words:

"Hail…Hydra…"

Fury rushed in, followed by the detention officers. "Christ! Stilwell, call a medic!"

"Belay that," Cap said. He knelt, putting his nose to Brunner's mouth, and inhaled. "Cyanide. You can't blame this one on the police, Fury. Either your people were too incompetent to strip this prisoner of contraband…or you have a traitor in your ranks."

Fury's expression was stone. He hit his com-badge, his voice echoing over the Helicarrier PA system.

"This is the Director. Emergency lockdown, security protocol Ice-Nine. All division leaders report to Commander Stillwell, immediately." A low, pulsing alarm began to sound, and a bank of dim red lights flicked on over-head, signaling a state of emergency. Fury turned to his deputy commander.

"I want every agent who had contact with the prisoner suspended from duty and questioned, starting with the security officers in this cellblock. You and Jensen review the video log—every second of it. Nobody works alone. Teams of two or more, everything by the book. We have a rat on board, and I want him found five minutes ago. Understood?"

"We should start with the last person to see the prisoner alive," Stillwell said, turning to Cap. "Why did you want to see Brunner alone?"

"Are you accusing me of something?"

Stillwell flinched. "I'm just doing my job, Captain."

"That's why I haven't thrown you through the wall. Accuse me of being a Hydra agent again, and we're going to have words, mister."

"All right, let's cool down," Fury said. "Stillwell, you're running the show for the next fifteen minutes. I need to speak with Cap."

. . .

Fury sat on the edge of his desk. "Jasper's a little weak on people skills. I'm not accusing you of anything…but you purposely scramble our audio. Why?

"Brunner wouldn't have talked otherwise."

"What did he tell you?"

"You first. I want to hear everything you know about Hydra's plans. Then I'll talk."

Fury thought for a moment, then he nodded, taking a seat. His briefing was concise and complete. When he finished, Cap spoke.

"Clones. You're sure about this?"

"Yes. As of today, we've eliminated twenty-six of these sleeper-agents. God knows how many more are out there." Fury laughed, the sound harsh. "Hydra has us behind the 8-ball. We only found out about their sleepers five weeks ago, but the plan has been in effect for more than a year."

"And you think that's what I was up against in Scotland? An attempt to replace Prince Harry with a clone?" Cap's expression was dubious. "What would that gain them? The Royal Family has no real political power."

"They have influence and wealth, and that is political power. Harry is an officer in the British Army, with the kind of connections that give him access to sensitive information. He's just the type Hydra's been aiming for. The kind you don't see coming."

"Still," Cap said, "you'd think Hydra would want some of these LMD's in positions of real, direct power."

"In a few cases, they have been, but Hydra is avoiding the high-profile targets. That's why finding them has been so hard—we don't even know where to look. We only have thirty of these portable scanners in service," Fury said, holding up a blood analyzer. "Got four hundred coming next week, but ten times that number may not be enough."

Fury walked over to the water cooler, not even looking at his wet bar. This was a crisis situation, and his willpower was stronger than his vices. He gulped down a swallow of water, tossing the paper cup into the wastebasket.

"We're hurting on this one. The Skull has us jumping at shadows, meanwhile, he's sitting pretty with his hand on the switch. Our analysts say we have only days before the offensive begins…and what we know about it wouldn't fill a post-it note." Fury turned to Cap. "That's everything. Quid Pro Quo, Avenger. What happened with Brunner?"

"Sometimes Hydra's top agents have messages for me, from the Skull," Cap said, quietly. "I'm not sure what you'd call it, post hypnotic suggestion, telepathy…magic. Somehow, the Skull speaks through them. And only to me. You'd never have gotten it out of him—I doubt Brunner even knew the message himself."

Fury's face reddened. "What the hell, Avenger? Fifteen years, and this is the first I've heard of it. Would have been damned helpful to know that little bit of intel."

"Yeah, it stinks to have someone keep secrets from you, doesn't it? Don't worry, I wouldn't endanger the public. These messages are strictly personal, little poison darts Schmidt likes to toss my way. Never anything of a strategic nature."

"Why listen? Sounds like psychological warfare."

"You know the value of studying enemy propaganda. I always learn something. About the Skull, about what's going on inside his mind."

"Inside his mind?" The look on Fury's face was bitter, as if he had just tasted something rank. "I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

"He is my worst enemy. Any insight I gain puts me one step closer to defeating him. Believe me, he's tried his best to get inside my head over the years. I have to do the same."

"He has an advantage there. You're an open book compared to Schmidt. Oh, we know plenty about the man...but the Skull? There are more questions than answers."

"An open book," Cap mused. "I've been told there's a book on him as well. I just haven't been able to decipher it yet."

Fury looked askance. "What do you mean?"

The mood in the room took on a strange feel. Cap walked over to the cooler, pouring himself a cup of water. "I had a dream the other night," he said, his back to Fury. "Prophetic, I'd guess you'd call it. Do you believe in God, Fury?"

If Fury found the question odd, it didn't show in his response. "Not particularly. Was he in your dream?"

"No. An old friend was." Cap downed the water and turned to Fury. "You worry about Hydra. Whatever they're up to, that's for you and your people to deal with. Leave Schmidt to me. I'm going to destroy him, once and for all."

There was a moment of quiet at that revelation.

"Not that I doubt you," Fury said, "but I can't help thinking back a few years ago, to that hostage situation in Madrid. You refused to take out that terrorist, told the media you were opposed to taking a life."

"I still am. Show me a soldier who's seen as much killing as I have, and I'll show you a man who's against taking human life. I have my share of blood on my hands."

"That was war. Don't tell me you're dragging around guilt over killing some murderous Nazis?"

Cap grew pensive. "When you kill a man, war or no war, Nazis or no Nazis, it costs you something. You know that. My last mission in Norway. I killed four enemy soldiers. You serve in combat long enough, you start to lose track of how many men you may have killed. I don't know what my final tally was, I just know it was too high. So, after I revived, I made a vow. No more killing. For fifteen years, I've kept that vow."

"And now you're willing to break it?"

"No. Destroying Schmidt isn't the same as killing a man. He's the Angel of Death."

Fury sat down, silent for a moment. "That sounds about right. Don't know if I believe in God, but the Devil's another matter. I've seen his work. If I had to guess, I'd say Schmidt is his creature, his special little gift to the human race. If any man can destroy the Skull, it's you." Fury hesitated a moment. "But…you're not exactly at your best right now."

"That doesn't matter. I'll get my shot, he'll want it that way. When I do, I'll make it count."

"And you know all this from a dream?"

"I suppose it sounds a little crazy," Cap said. "Would have sounded crazy to me, too, a week ago. But that's the way it is."

"Just do me a favor. When you finally square off against that bony son of a bitch? Kick him once for me. I've lost a lot of good people to him over the years."

A call from Sitwell came over the intercom, interrupting the conversation. Fury invited Cap to sit in on a series of briefings. Cap stood quietly in the background, observing. Despite his anger at Fury and the organization he headed, Cap had to admit SHIELD was a well run, disciplined force. Whoever was responsible for Brunner, he (or she, Cap reminded himself) was surely feeling the heat right about now. The culprit would be found, it was just a matter of time. But time, as Cap was increasingly aware, was a commodity in short supply. Seeing a break in the briefings, Cap approached Fury.

"Anything?"

"No. Frigging mole is buried deep. But there's no way off this station, we'll find him."

"Clone?"

"Not possible," Fury offered. "Everyone on the carrier is tested daily. No one comes aboard without a scan."

"I got on without a scan."

"You're a special case. You can't be cloned, our people determined it early on."

Cap's eyes narrowed. "How exactly did you do that?"

Fury hesitated. "We tested a sample of your DNA. Something about the Super Soldier Serum resists the cloning process. There was no need to scan you."

"You damned spooks," Cap said in a low, angry voice. "If the country knew how far into their personal freedoms you pry, they'd riot in the streets."

"Would they? I think they like being safe. I think they pretend not to know the things we do, trusting us to go no farther than we have to. It's the same reason that they like having a group of gods standing watch over them. Nobody elected the Avengers into existence…you took the job because it needed doing."

"The Avengers are fully sanctioned, and we enjoy broad public support."

"Same with SHIELD."

Cap offered no challenge, letting the argument end in stalemate.

Fury walked over to a computer consul and typed in a command. He retrieved a zip drive and handed it to Cap. "This is everything we have on the Hydra prisoners, all the interrogations, all the forensics. Hope it will help."

Cap nodded, acknowledging Fury's peace offering. He slipped the drive into his belt pouch. "You people have your hands full, and I have matters of my own to attend to."

"You promised me an explanation," Fury said. "This ship employs the most advanced stealth technology in the world. How did you beat it?"

"Repulsor power is remarkably clean," Cap offered. "Quiet, negligible heat and radiation, no exhaust. But it ionizes saltwater."

"Low level ionization. Our techs say it's too small to detect."

"Not to my friends. They have more sophisticated means of monitoring what goes on in the ocean."

Fury could not suppress a laugh. "Well, I guess that's a glitch we need to address. You have friends in low places, Avenger. About five thousand meters below the surface of the ocean low. Nice work."

Fury escorted Cap to the docking bay. There was little chit-chat. As Cap mounted his sky-cycle, Fury ordered the bay door opened. "Had it charged," he said. "Plenty of juice to get you home."

Cap nodded. The engine hummed to life, but he kept the craft in park. He turned to Fury. "Where do things stand with Sharon?"

Fury's expression got flinty. "I've shared a lot with you today, Cap. But if you think I'm going to give you everything, think again."

"She's put her life on the line time and again, for this organization, and for you, personally. You might keep that in mind."

"I do. She's the best I've got. Carter knows where the line is. Long as she stays on the right side of it, she'll come through okay."

"That's the best you can muster?"

"I'll give her as much slack as I can, bend every rule that won't break, but I don't give out free passes, even for her. She's a big girl, Steve, she knows the score. Got to tell you, having a woman like her, willing to risk everything to help you… you're a lucky man, Avenger."

Cap sat silently for a moment. Then, without another word or a backward glance, he piloted the sky-cycle off the landing pad, disappearing into a white mist of cloud.