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Chapter 32

The Invitation

Avengers Mansion

Steve walked into the main hallway, and was instantly greeted by commotion from the adjoining room. He poked his head around the corner, seeing Jarvis, flanked by members of the housekeeping staff, arguing with a harried young delivery man wearing a Metallica tee shirt, and holding a box of goods. Jarvis was inspecting the provisions with the air of a British sergeant major.

"No, this won't do," he said. "I ordered prime rib. These are ribeye, very poor ones at that—and frozen. No, this won't do at all."

"Look, dude, I just bring what they put in the truck."

Jarvis raised an eyebrow. "My name, young man, is not 'Dude'. Please go back and get the correct order. I need it by five o'clock, as was originally promised. Now if you don't mind, you're dripping on my freshly waxed floor."

The young man heaved the box to his shoulder. "Never gonna make it by five."

"Well then, you'd better hurry, hadn't you?"

The delivery man headed off in a huff. Jarvis turned to his staff.

"James, please finish setting up the game room, we need ten card tables, and sixty chairs. Phillip, you and Harlan check the beer cellar—make sure we have plenty of ice on hand. Rosa, Lucy check the ovens, the salmon tartlets should be ready. Off you go then, we have lots to do, and little time to do it."

The staffers hurried off. Steve walked over, shaking his head, a wry smile on his face.

"Salmon tartlets? It's poker, Jarvis, not opening night at the Met."

"Not to worry, Cap, there will be plenty of pizza and chips, even some of those ghastly nachos you're so fond of."

Steve smiled. "Throw in some extra cheese sauce, we ran out last time."

"I don't believe it qualifies as 'cheese', Cap, but it will be orange, and plentiful. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to call the pastry shop."

"Jarvis…"

"Just in case anyone has a sweet tooth," the middle-aged butler said. He disappeared through the pantry doors, and then popped his head back out. "I almost forgot. Your guest is waiting in the front parlor. A Manchester native," he said, smiling in approval. "I wish I'd had time to chat with him, it's been ages since I've been home."

Again, Jarvis disappeared. Steve could only smile and shake his head. Sometimes he wondered if the Avengers would last a week without Jarvis to keep the place running. His title was butler, but CEO would be closer to the mark. The Avengers support staff numbered thirty-five full-time workers, and Jarvis kept them all on task, running like a Swiss watch. Tony Stark's contributions to the team over the years were many, but Edwin Jarvis was one of his best. He had been the Stark family butler, and it was easy to see why Tony patterned his armor's operating system after the man; Jarvis was unflappable.

Crossing the foyer, he heard Vision through the parlor doors, giving a dissertation on the mansion's history to his captive audience. Steve gave a gentle knock before opening the door.

"This a private conversation, or can anybody join in?"

Vision stood. "Hello, Steve. We were just discussing architectural styles of the late nineteenth century, and our ongoing effort to retain the mansion's original design and décor, while updating its infrastructure."

"Don't let me interrupt," Steve said, suppressing a smile. "I can come back later?"

"No," Joey said, springing to his feet, his eyes a little glassy. "I think we covered it."

Vision turned to Joey, extending his hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Joey. I look forward to seeing you at tonight's game."

Joey shook his hand. "You play poker?"

"Yes. You seem surprised."

"A little. I wouldn't have thought an android would have much interest in card games. But what do I know? You're the first android I've met."

"You'll find we come in all varieties. I enjoy the game, though my lack of emotions does hinder my play somewhat."

"Don't let him con you," Steve said. "Vision's poker face is legendary. He's suckered me more than once."

"Steve, you know my ethics programming precludes me from lying." Vision turned to Joey. "Fortunately, I found a loophole in regards to exaggerating. We androids are especially good at that."

Vision's expression remained pleasantly neutral, with just the hint of a sly smile. He quietly left the room. Joey turned to Steve, a mystified look on his face.

"Was he having a go at me?"

"With Vision, you never can tell," Steve said, grinning. He clapped his hand on Joey's shoulder. "I'm glad you decided to come, Joe."

"I was going to stay home and work on my stamp collection, but I figured what the hell? Might as well go hang with the Avengers."

Steve laughed. "You made the right choice." He looked at his watch. "We've got a few hours yet. Feel like going out for some pizza? It's one of the things we do best in New York."

"Sure, but I'm buying."

Steve led the way through the manor. Joey tried hard not to stare too obviously. He didn't want Steve to think he was a wide-eyed novice, even if that's exactly how he felt. Bloody hell, Joey thought as he passed a mural of the Team…Cap, Iron Man, Vision, Black Widow, Thor, the Hulk. The Hulk! Being here was a little like walking the Yellow Brick Road in Oz.

"Jacqueline Falsworth tells me you're being reinstated to active duty," Steve said, interrupting Joey's reverie. "That's great news."

"Thanks. I was bloody nervous when I got word she wanted to see me. I knew she was unhappy at my appointment as Union Jack, but she's giving me her full blessing. I have an idea that you were behind her change of heart."

"I gave her a nudge in the right direction, that's all. Jackie just needed to know her family's heritage is in good hands."

"It is, I promise you. I'll honor her father's legacy. Always."

Steve slowed his pace. "How is she? She says she's feeling better, but she sounds so weak."

"That last spell took a lot out of her," Joey admitted, "but she's on the mend, and her spirits are high. She's a remarkable woman. She must have been a sight to behold back in her days with the Invaders."

"…Yes, she was."

Joey sensed a melancholy settle over Steve at those words, so he attempted to change the mood.

"I met her granddaughter, Emily. Quite a girl herself."

Steve's mood instantly brightened. He eyed his young friend wryly, but before Joey could reply, a security officer stepped out from the side door.

"Excuse me, Cap. If you have a moment, there's something you ought to see."

They followed the guard to the security kiosk, where he brought up an image on his computer.

"Perimeter cameras picked him up, face-recognition flagged it to my attention. He's been sitting in that van for about twenty minutes. Almost like he wanted to get noticed."

Steve's brow furrowed as he looked at the face on the monitor. "Has he caused any trouble?"

"No. I was going to call the NYPD, but given who it is, I thought I should check with you first."

"You made the right call, Brody. I'll handle this." Steve turned to Joey. "Afraid the pizza's on hold."

. . .

Steve and Joey headed across Riverside Parkway, threading their way through the crowd. Avengers Mansion was a prime tourist attraction, and hundreds of people filled the sidewalks, cell phones and cameras in hand, hoping to spot that most New York of sights; a real-life superhero. None of them realized that Captain America just walked by.

Steve made no attempt at subtlety, making a bee-line for the non-descript van with darkly tinted windows. He stopped at the driver's side door as the window powered down. Steve crossed his arms across his broad chest, his expression cast-iron hard.

"Castle, I thought I made it clear the last time. New York City is off limits to you."

The dark haired man looked at Steve, his voice low and icy as he spoke. "And I thought I made it clear. I go where the mission takes me."

"You can drop the 'thousand yard stare', Frank. I'm not impressed."

"Didn't think you would be." Castle shot a glance over Steve's shoulder. "Who's the limey?"

Joey smiled, grimly. "How'd you know I was British?"

"Take your pick. The limey haircut, the stiff upper lip, or the SAS tattoo on you forearm. Mostly the haircut."

"All right, Punisher, fun time is over," Steve said. "You've got sixty seconds to tell me something I want to hear, or I'll pull you out of that van and stuff you through the keyhole of the nearest jail cell."

The Punisher shook his head. "I'm disappointed in you, Cap. Of all the showboating superheroes in this town, I figured at least you'd be on my side. I'm a soldier, like you."

"Soldiers have rules of engagement. They aren't judge, jury, and executioner. Thirty seconds left, Frank. That keyhole isn't getting any bigger."

The Punisher reached across to the passenger seat. Steve felt Joey tense up beside him; there were automatic weapons lying on that seat. Castle dug beneath the weapons and came up with a file, which he handed to Steve. There were photographs clipped to the front of the file.

"I've been tracking a Hydra gun running operation. They just moved their payload into a warehouse near Battery Park. Enough firepower to tear these streets apart."

Steve took one of the photographs and held it up. "Was this man there?"

"Yes. He wasn't wearing any Hydra kit. Looks like an accountant."

"He's no accountant. His name is Calvin Zabo, a deranged scientist who devised a potion that mutates him into a ten-foot tall monster with the strength of a bull elephant. Calls himself 'Mister Hyde'. The man beside him is a psychopath who goes by the name 'Cobra'. Hydra is making some very dangerous alliances."

"All the more reason for me to hit them now," Castle said. "They only have a handful of guards in place, they're disorganized. We'll lose hours if you go to the cops, and people will die. I'm ready to roll right now. Just give me the green light."

Steve glanced at the files. He looked up, searching Castle's dark eyes. "I should turn this over to the police—and you with it. You're dangerous, Castle."

"You're damned right I am. Look, you don't respect me, Cap, I know that. What you don't know is…I respect you. You tell me to back off, I will. But this is Hydra we're talking about. They don't have any rules of engagement, and they'll turn this city into a slaughterhouse. What's your call?"

Steve turned to Joey. "You bring your gear?"

"It's back in the mansion."

Steve turned back to Castle. "We'll work this together. If we can, we take them alive."

The Punisher squinted. "You know Hydra better than that."

"Castle, if you slip up, if even one civilian is harmed…"

"Won't happen, I'm a professional. Not sure about Junior over there."

"Listen, you wanker, I've been in firefights all around the globe," Joey shot back. "A tour in Iraq, two in Afghanistan. I've taken down Black Tom Cassidy, and Kraven the Hunter. Don't worry about me."

Steve pointed to another photograph. "Is this the old Hammer Industries building?"

Castle nodded. "It's where I set up base."

"Get there and wait for us, we'll meet you in twenty minutes. Don't test me on this, Frank."

Castle started the engine, looking sardonically at Cap. "After the way you tuned me up last time I pissed you off? Don't worry, I'll wait."

Joey turned to Steve as the van roared off. "I get the feeling there won't be any poker tonight."

Steve nodded grimly. They turned and raced back to the mansion.

Falsworth Manor

Emily cracked open the door to her grandmother's room. Jackie was fast asleep, looking tiny and frightfully frail. A week had passed since her collapse. She was slowly regaining her strength, but today had been a busy morning. Between letter writing and attending to the business of the estate, Jackie was worn out. With luck, she would sleep through the afternoon. Emily gently closed the door, and headed downstairs.

She intended to go right to her schoolbooks and study, but got no farther than the hall, where she spotted Joey's cardigan hanging on the coat tree. She picked it up, holding it close, inhaling its fragrance. It had the delicious, unmistakable scent of a man. She thought of the boys she dated before Joey, realizing that was what they were; boys. Even Trevor, at twenty-four, had been little more than a boy; sweet natured, a bit careless, apt to spend most of his free time at the pub with the lads, or playing video games. Boy stuff. Joey Chapman was a man, through and through, with a man's strength, and a man's heart. There was a kindness to him, even a gentleness of sorts, but not a trace of weakness or carelessness. She took another sniff of his cardigan, and put it back, reluctantly.

She had only known Joey for five days. Was it possible to fall in love in such a brief time? Jacqueline believed so, but it seemed madly impetuous. She couldn't stop thinking of the kiss they shared that first day, and of how right it felt to hold him close. When he left early this morning, he asked if she would come see him in London next week. She didn't want to commit to it then, but she knew now that she would go. It frightened her a little, the intensity of her feelings, but there was nothing she could do about it.

"I love him," she said aloud, and that was that. No more beating around the bush. She loved him. The admission made her smile, and her cheeks blush. Where had this newfound girl come from, who could fall in love so easily, and with a man she'd only just met? It reminded her of Jacqueline, this kind of bold certainty. She recalled the shocking secret Jackie revealed to her just a few short days ago:

Your grandfather was a man I met during the war. The world knows him as Captain America...you know him as Steve Rogers.

Emily grew up aware of her family's special heritage—but in one swift stroke, Jacqueline expanded that heritage farther than she ever imagined possible. The blood of two superheroes ran through her veins. Perhaps that girl was there all along, just waiting for her moment to shine. Emily always sold herself short, drumming into her mind the idea that she was ordinary, not special. Why had she done this? And why had she believed it so thoroughly? If it was possible to fall in love so completely, then maybe it was possible to break down the limitations she placed on herself. Perhaps Jackie was right; perhaps there was greatness in her

A knock at the door cut short her musings. It must be Trilby, she thought, back from the market. The rest of the staff had the day off, so Emily headed to the front door. There was a second round of knocking, louder. "Hold on, Trilby," Emily called.

She opened the door, expecting to see the fastidious old curmudgeon she had grown so fond of, but it wasn't Trilby; it was an enormous man, so big he filled the entire massive doorway.

"Not Trilby, sweetheart," the man said. "Whoever that is."

Emily fell back, fear clutching her heart that quickly rose to terror. The intruder was dressed in black, except for a horrid skull mask that concealed his entire face. She could all but feel a smile leering at her from behind that mask. She staggered into the parlor, and the man came on, his laughter low and mocking. Her retreat stopped abruptly against the stone mantle of the fireplace. Reaching behind her, she found the cold weight of an iron poker in her hand.

"G…get back," Emily stammered, swinging the poker like a cudgel, the bar cutting the air with a vicious whipping sound. The behemoth chuckled as he reached out his massive hand. The bar landed in his palm with a heavy 'whap!', and he yanked it free, causing Emily to fall on her backside with a bone-jarring thud. She bit her tongue, the bitter copper taste of blood filling her mouth. With casual, horrifying ease, the giant twisted the bar into a loop.

"That wasn't very friendly," he said, letting the poker clatter to the floor. "And here I thought we were going to be friends."

Before Emily could speak, a reedy voice called. She turned, and in her terror, saw Jacqueline standing at the top of the stairway.

"What is going on? Who's there?"

Emily's fear evaporated, giving way to survival. "Run, Gran! Call the police, hurry!"

Emily scrambled to her feet, and for an instant, she actually thought she was going to get away, but a massive hand closed around her neck from behind, nearly covering her entire face. The giant walked forward, pulling her along with ease.

"Lady Falsworth, I presume?"

Emily tried to cry out, tried to claw away the hand around her neck, but it was no use, the grip was like stone.

"Unhand my granddaughter, this instant!" she heard Jackie shout.

"Afraid I can't do that. My name is Crossbones, and I've come with a very special invitation. The Red Skull cordially invites you to join him as he ushers in the new age."

Emily felt herself being dragged along as the giant climbed the stairs. The last thing she saw before darkness took her was her grandmother dropping to the floor.