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Chapter 31

…Of Gods and Monsters

Hydra Base, Alpha-1

Viper was undressing when the com-screen flashed. It was the Skull. Pulling her top off, she opened the video connection. The Skull's grim visage appeared. He paused for the briefest of moments—but long enough to please her. Even with the fate of the world at stake, the sight of her naked flesh inflamed him.

"I see I have caught you at an inopportune moment."

"Not at all."

He seemed amused by that. "Have you contacted Harada?"

"The Silver Samurai is with us." She undid her belt, sliding it free. Although the Skull had no eyes, she could feel his vision tracking her movements. "He will join our forces when the attack on Japan commences. I also received word from the Hand. They've made a blood oath, offering their finest ninja assassins."

"Excellent. What news of the Mandarin?"

"He sends a thousand blessings, and pledges not to interfere…so long as you leave China to him."

She stepped behind a silk room divider, embroidered with Japanese cherry blossoms. The fabric was sheer, allowing a hazy view of her body, as she intended. She unfastened her pants and pulled them over her hips, hooking her thumbs into her panties as she did. They were black and lacy, as he liked. She slid them off, revealing flesh like honeyed milk, smooth and soft…except for the places mapped over with red, twisting scars. She knew the sight thrilled him.

"And your reply?"

"As you instructed, I acquiesced to his demands. He will betray you at his first opportunity, of course."

The Skull waived his hand, dismissively. "I will crush him. He will live just long enough to see me take the rings of power from his broken hands. I shall make you a gift of one of them, my dear."

"You are most generous."

She ran her fingers through her raven hair, letting it cascade over her bare shoulders. She stood revealed, naked in her flesh, naked in her ambition, with only the barest layer of silk between her flesh, and his sight. He smiled in approval.

"When you've…finished, come to my War Room. I have a mission for you. It is time to activate our special operative."

It was her turn to smile. "And the Avengers, they suspect nothing?"

"Their arrogance will be their undoing. Tonight, I strike at my brother's heart, and eliminate his base. We will discuss it when you arrive."

"As you bid."

The Skull paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the switch before shutting off the connection. Viper smiled. He had a soul of ice, and the body of a monster…but still the appetites of a man. How simple it was to play on those appetites. Men were fools, and for all his power, for all his posturing and pretense at godhood, Johann Schmidt was still a man. She had given him sway, let him put his cold, dead hands on her flesh, let him plunder her…but that time was nearly at an end. She stared into the now black com-screen and spoke aloud, to quell her pride, and to put steel in her spine.

"There is only one ring which I desire…and when the time comes, I will take it from your broken hand."

She looked around. The room was secure; no surveillance device existed that she could not detect, and counterman. Although she was no sorceress, she was adept enough to detect when his spirit-eye was fixed upon her, an ability she had kept utterly secret from him. Schmidt cultivated superstitious dread in all his underlings, but he was only a man, and she was no man's dupe

Entering the bathroom, she stepped into the shower, and proceeded to dye her hair emerald green, as was her ritual before battle. The dye was a special blend of her own concoction. Its scent was narcotic, its touch addicting, its taste an agony of want. Immune to its chemistry, she used it to bend men and women to her will. Its color was that of envy, and the rapacious hunger that burned in her heart. It was venom befitting her name—not the name she was born with, which she had discarded as a street urchin living off scraps in Hong Kong—but the name she had earned. She was the deadliest woman in the world, Viper, in name and in deed.

Dressing quickly, she headed out of her quarters. The corridors thrummed with energy, every person she passed was focused, intent on whatever important task they were performing…yet each man and woman she encountered paused, if only for a brief instant, to look at her. She smiled, seeing her allure reflected in their expressions. She walked past the main elevator bank, heading to the ones reserved for command-level officers. Crossbones was there, and she stood next to him.

"You smell good enough to eat," he said, his voice whisper-low. "Got business with the boss?"

"Yes. You?"

"I'm heading to mission-ops, straighten out some problems with my intel liaison."

The lift opened, and they got on. As the door was closing, another officer came running, hailing them to wait. Viper moved to block his entry. "Take the next one," she said, the doors closing on his surprised face.

"That wasn't friendly," Crossbones said, chuckling.

She looked up at him, cold passion radiating from her smile. "Our time is almost here. Are you ready?"

Crossbones shifted, uncomfortably. "Yeah. Gotta be ready, right? The big day's coming."

"Our day," she said, pressing against him. He pulled away.

"Look…I got a lot on my plate. I have to get my team prepped, gotta get focused. Maybe you should, too."

Viper hit the emergency stop button. "Brock. This is no time to waiver. All that we desire is almost in our grasp. Are you ready to take it?"

Crossbones flicked a glance at the security camera. "Keep it down," he muttered between his clenched teeth. Even through his facemask, his jaw muscles were visibly tight.

She took a device from her pocket, no bigger than a thumb drive. "Do you think me a fool? Every security measure of this Base bears my mark. No one can hear or see us. I need to know that you are with me."

Crossbones kept his eyes straight ahead. "I…I don't know, all right? Maybe we ought to think it over."

"Is that fear in your voice?"

"You're god-damned right it is. He could be watching, whatever the hell you say."

"His armies are advancing, and you think he has time to watch video feed of the elevators?" She took his hand and pressed it to her breast. "Feel my heart, it beats for you. Do you reject it?"

"N…no, I…" He pulled his hand free, and restarted the lift. "I can feel your voodoo swimming in my blood like a virus…but just back off! We'll talk later."

"When?"

"Later," he snapped.

The doors opened, and Crossbones stormed off. A tremor of fear rippled through Viper's heart; had she overestimated her hold on him? Was it possible he could betray her? Her 'voodoo' had never before failed to break a man to her will…but Rumlow was a man overloaded with chemical enhancements. Was he more resistant because of that? Her mind raced with the thought.

Stop, she told herself.

Be calm. Center you mind. You are about to speak with him, and his senses are keen. Master yourself, and give him nothing. You will see Rumlow tonight, and you will have him. Be calm.

The door opened. She stepped into the command center, her mind serene, and went off to meet with the Red Skull.

New York

The drive back from the Xavier School was a smooth one, and Steve covered the distance in excellent time. Even the Manhattan traffic was manageable, a rare treat. Considering how poorly his morning began, this was turning out to be a good day, with many things accomplished. He recalled a movie from a few years ago, one that stayed with him. Today he was following that film's message by crossing off a few items on his own 'bucket list'. He wouldn't give up, that simply wasn't in him, but he'd come to realize the importance of preparing for the inescapable reality of death. Somehow, the simple act of acceptance made life seem all the sweeter. It was a mystery that poets or philosophers might explain, not old warhorses like him. Life. What a strange, wondrous mystery.

He piloted the bike down Riverside Parkway, arriving at a discreet parking lot several hundred yards away from Avengers Mansion. Few people knew this was the main entrance to the compound. Showing his Avengers ID to the armed parking attendant, he was waved in. There were two additional checkpoints, the last a sophisticated electronic scan, but they passed quickly, and he was soon in the secluded portion of the Compound, facing the Hudson River. He pulled his Harley into Hangar 1, coasting to a stop. To his left, John Jameson was under the wing of one of the Quinjets, refitting a panel. Jameson spotted him, and quickly tightened the final bolt, his torque wrench whining. Steve propped his bike on its kickstand, and walked over.

"What's up, John?"

"Just tinkering," Jameson said, wiping his hand on a rag. "Flap was a little sluggish on the flight from Britain today."

"Britain?"

John looked at Steve, puzzled. "I was picking up your friend. You were expecting company, right?"

"Right. Joey Chapman." He'd almost forgot he'd invited Joe, so much had happened since then. "Glad he took up my offer."

"Nice guy. He's with Vision, getting a tour of the mansion." John chuckled. "I think he was a little star struck. Chapman, not Vision."

Steve laughed. "Vision will do that. You're coming tonight, right?"

Jameson's expression clouded. "Um…I'm afraid I can't make it. Something's come up."

"Oh. That's too bad."

"I'm sorry. It's an old friend, going through some troubles. Real last minute. I'll drop by later if I can."

"Hey, no worries, John." Jameson was clearly uneasy—if Steve didn't know him better, he'd almost think he was lying. "We'll keep a chair for you."

Jameson glanced at his watch. "Hate to run, but I have to get a move on."

Jameson jumped into his car and peeled out of the hanger. John had been acting oddly around him lately. Everyone had been acting oddly since his illness, but this seemed different. He considered asking him about it, but decided against it. Jameson had his own life, with his own worries. He was entitled to his privacy. It was good having people like Jameson around the compound, normal, everyday people who could shoot the breeze, or talk baseball with you. Shooting the breeze with Vision was tough enough, you could forget about baseball.

Steve headed down the tunnel connecting the mansion and the hanger, deciding to walk rather than use the tram. It was only a quarter mile; it would do him good to stretch his legs after being on his bike all morning. His energy was good today, not counting the morning incident. He felt strong, like his old self. Maybe the treatments were beginning to reverse his illness. It was possible. Death might be inevitable…but why rush it?

As he walked, Steve thought of Joe, stuck in the mansion, trying to make small talk with Vision. He laughed; what could possibly prepare a working-class bloke like Joey Chapman for the experience of meeting a sentient android? It was a strange world he lived in, Steve reflected. He took pride in the Avengers, they were good people, and the work they did was important…but, if he were being honest, sometimes they exhausted him. Everything about the team was big; the scope of their mission was big, the threats were big, and the personalities were big. He thought of Stark, and again, he had to laugh.

Big? Try enormous.

Stark was a pain-in-the ass sometimes, but a good man. They were all good people, that wasn't the point. Sometimes he just needed to feel normal. The hardest part about being a superhero was knowing when and how to shut it down, and get back in touch with real life. Sam Wilson was the friend who most kept him tethered to the real world. That might seem odd given that he was also a hero, but Sam didn't allow the mask to define him, a trick Steve could never master. Sam had a wife, a child on the way, roots in his community, things Steve longed for.

Thinking of Sam and his beautiful wife, he found himself thinking of Sharon.

He stopped in the middle of the passageway, and took the phone from his pocket. He'd put this call off for far too long…yet still he hesitated. He could face danger, put his life on the line when duty called, but when it came to facing the people he'd disappointed or hurt, he was cowardly. A knot of nerves formed in his throat, as he pressed send. At the third ring, it was answered, but the silence remained for several seconds. Finally, she spoke.

"Steve?"

"It's good to hear your voice, Sharon."

The awkward silence returned. She spoke haltingly. "How…how are you feeling? Is the treatment helping?"

"Yes, a little, it's day by day. Let's not talk about that now. I said some things the other day I wish I hadn't. I'm sorry."

"I am, too. We have a habit of saying hurtful things to each other. I'd...like to change that."

"So would I. Are you in the city? I'd like to see you."

There was a long pause. "I don't want to lie. I'm in the city…but I'm in the middle of something, I…I can't right now. But soon, I promise."

Another long silence. Steve leaned against the wall, cradling the phone against his ear. He took a deep breath, and spoke.

"May eighth. Do you remember?"

Sharon's voice was soft as she answered. "The Bay of Mackellar, the Arctic science station. Fury telling me we were going there to witness history, me being too young to understand what that really meant. I remember everything."

"I don't," Steve said, his voice nearly a whisper. "I barely remember waking up from that frozen hell. Fury, Holder, struggling to get out of that station, it's all a fog. The only thing I remember clearly is you. Your face, your voice. That's what I remember from the day my life began again. Have I ever told you that?"

"No," Sharon said, tears choking her words to near silence. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid. Part of me never came out of that ice. Part of my heart stayed frozen, locked away."

"I could help you find it...but you have to let me. I don't blame you, Steve. For loving her. I just always hoped there was room in your heart for me, too."

Tears spilled down his cheeks. "There is. I...can't live in the past anymore. Whatever is left of my life, I want to share it with you. You don't owe me another chance, and if you say no, I'll understand. But I'm asking anyway. Please don't give up on me."

"I'll never give up on you, Steve. Never."

Silence. Neither wanting to break the spell. But after several seconds passed, Sharon spoke.

"I have to go. I don't want to, I want to stay, I want to talk to you, but I…"

"It's alright," Steve said. "I have things to do as well. But we'll talk soon, okay? I love you, Sharon Marie Carter."

"I love you, Steven Grant Rogers."

Steve shut off the phone. He stood in the empty corridor for several long minutes, letting his emotion slowly dissipate. It did not lift entirely, for it ran too deep, but eventually the redness left his eyes, and the heaviness left his heart. He slipped the phone back into his pocket, and headed to the mansion. As he walked on, Steve tried not to think of Sharon, and the deep longing he felt to hold her in his arms.

Hydra Base Alpha-1

The Skull listened to his commanders, some in the room, others on video conference. When displeased, he tempered his reaction, when satisfied, he extolled praise. This was no time for rages or tantrums; the world was at stake. There was a time for the whip…and a time for the apple. The Skull turned to the video monitor and spoke to his field marshal overseeing the African theater.

"Have the Wakandans taken the bait?"

"No, my Lord. Their forces are deployed in key defensive positions, but they have not come out to meet us. They are like chattering monkey children, bold behind their barricades. We must advance on them, press the issue."

The Skull wagged his finger. "Save the red meat for your troops, General Vogel. This is a time for honest evaluation, not simpleminded rhetoric. T'Challa is a cunning warrior, and his people are disciplined. You will see the difference between a monkey and a panther, when the battle begins."

Vogel fumed silently. The Skull went on. "Continue your troop movements. Draw them out if you can. If not, hold. Do not strike until the Americans enter the fray."

"The U.S. military shows no sign of deployment."

"That will change, soon enough."

"How, may I ask?"

"You may ask. I will tell you when you need to know. Right now, concentrate on Wakanda. Ulysses Klaw must be ready to extract the vibranium the instant the invasion commences. He has failed me in the past…explain to him it would be unwise to do so again."

"Yes, my Lord."

The Skull turned to the next order of business. "Why has SHIELD not come to Wakanda's aid?"

"It's unclear," answered another of his advisers. "Our statistical models indicated a ninety-percent probability that they would have done so by now. Fury is unpredictable."

"Say rather he is intuitive. He does not know our plan…but he senses it. That is his strength. His weakness is that he operates in a democracy. Eventually, his President will force his hand. What of our sleeper? Is he any closer to influencing Fury to act?"

"I'll have an answer for that after his daily report, not for another eight hours."

The Skull thought. "If the answer is no, have him assassinate Fury and take his place. If he cannot, order him to blow the Helicarrier from the sky."

"Yes, my Lord."

It went this way for the next thirty minutes; his people briefing him, the Skull responding with probing questions. On many trivial matters, he hovered, asking numerous questions; on many important issues, he paid only cursory attention, brushing off detailed analysis. As ever, his mind was inscrutable. He was pleased with the news from Russia and Asia, but when the briefing turned to the United States, his mood darkened.

"What has caused Fisk and Silvermane to refuse me?"

"It was Captain America, my Lord. He took preventative action, forcing the crime lords to..."

"They fear my brother more than they fear me?"

"I…I would not put it that way, but…"

"I will hang the gangsters from the street signs of Times Square, where the people may file past, and despoil their carcasses. Inform them of this, especially the bloated fool who calls himself 'Kingpin'. Then we shall see who they fear most…me or my brother."

"Yes, Herr Skull. There is positive news from the Hellfire Club. Shaw and his people are ready to—"

The Skull raised his hand for quiet, and all discussion ceased. He stood, looking off in the distance, as if spying something no other could see. After several seconds passed, he turned to his Deputy Viceroy.

"Baron Strucker, continue with the briefing."

Not waiting for a reply, the Skull left the room, to a hurried chorus of 'Hail Hydra'. As he passed through the office, Viper rose and started towards him. Not pausing to acknowledge her, he held out his hand. "Await my return." She burned at that rough treatment, but so pressing was his business that he took no enjoyment from her humiliation. Stepping outside, he headed to his car. His chauffeur got out to open the door, but the Skull waved him off.

"Research and Development. Quickly."

Minutes later, they were there. The Skull burst through the doors, silencing the questioning looks from the security guards with a fearsome glance. He dashed down the corridor, and when he got to the main laboratory, he flung open the doors, not waiting for the sterilization process. His boots rang against the steel rigging as he raced up the stairs.

"Doctor Lerner! Where are you?"

Lerner called out from the upper terrace. "Mr. Schmidt, I have excellent news. The testing is…"

The Skull ran up the second flight of stairs. "Are they ready?"

"The gestation phase is…"

He grabbed Lerner by the shoulders, shaking him. "Are they ready?"

"They require five days to reach full maturity, and six days of mental conditioning by Modok. You asked for your soldiers by the end of the month. You will have them with a day to spare."

He set Lerner down, carefully, almost lovingly. His death's head had no eyes, no lips, nor any face at all, yet anyone watching might have sworn he was smiling in joy, his eyes beaming gratitude.

"You did it…" he said, quietly at first. "You did it!"

The Skull turned, looking down at the laboratory floor. Row after row of gleaming steel and glass incubators, all humming with power. Three more doctor Lerner's were tending them, along with twenty other scientists. Behind the glass panels of each box, just visible through thick, amniotic sacs, were the figures of human bodies. Incomplete, almost fetal looking, yet clearly bodies of grown men...with large, powerful physiques. Identical in every detail.

"I was finally able to break his genetic code," Lerner said. "In eleven days, you will have your first thousand soldiers, each an exact duplicate of Captain Rogers, with all his powers. An army of Super Soldiers, as you requested."

The Skull looked off to that far distance again, seeing the future.

"A thousand soldiers now. Ten-thousand by the end of the year, then…millions. I will sweep the world with this force. The United States, Russia, China, all will fall. I will grind Magneto beneath my bootheel, and I will drag Doom from his castle fortress. With the technology of Stark and Richards, the resources of Wakanda, I will take to the stars…and paint the heavens red!"

He stood in triumph, his shout reverberating off the glass and chrome steel. Then, slowly, he reeled himself in, tamping down his rapture. He settled himself, breathed deep, and turned to Lerner.

"But first, I need my thousand."

He headed down to the ground floor, and walked to one of the incubation pods, laying his hand on it, tenderly. "Care well for them, doctor. When my brother arrives, I will show him his legacy…and he will despair."

The Skull strode from the laboratory, his voice booming like a desert prophet. "Eleven days to the new Genesis!"