Project: Super Soldier
Chapter 1: December, 1941
"I don't know what to tell you kid," the Sergeant behind the desk sighed at the young man in front of him, fidgeting in his seat. "You're small, under the height and weight restrictions, as much we need every man out there, it would be my ass if I let you in," he watched the young man in front of him. "Not to mention you don't have any immigration papers," he continued.
"I told you, they got destroyed in the fire that killed my family," the boy replied sharply. "I can't do anything here, I need to get into the fight," he glared at the Sergeant.
"I don't know what to tell you Rogers," the Sergeant shrugged, looking down at the boy's file. "Tell me the truth kid, how old are you?" the Sergeant watched the boy closely.
"Sixteen, more or less," the boy admitted. "Please, I know you've let some of the other kids in the area who aren't 18 in," he begged. "Can't you do something?"
"I'm probably going to regret this," the Sergeant frowned, digging through a drawer for a business card. "Go here. I'm not making any promises, but go talk to them," he handed over the card after scribbling his name on the back.
"This is the warehouse district," the boy frowned, looking at the address. "What would I find in a damn warehouse that could get me into the Army?" the boy glared back at the Sergeant.
"You'll never know, unless you check it out," the Sergeant replied as the boy stormed out of his office.
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The sun was setting later that day when the boy made his way to the address indicated on the card. He looked at the massive dingy warehouse, shaking his head as he went to what he assumed was the main door. "Can't say this is the strangest thing I've seen at least," he frowned before knocking on the door.
A small panel slid open, revealing a pair of eyes looking down. "Card," the voice ordered, snatching the card the boy handed through the small panel before slamming shut.
"This is such shit," the boy swore as he started banging on the door some more. "Open up! The Sergeant told me to come here damn it!" he kicked at the door, hurting his foot. "Damn…what is this thing made of…" he swore, wincing at the pain in his foot.
The door swung open a second later, revealing three men with Thompson submachine guns pointed at him, motioning him inside. "Follow me, one ordered," leading the boy through a maze of hallways, leaving one guard at the door and the other following behind so the boy could not escape. "In there," he ordered when they finally stopped at a door, taking positions at either side.
"Great, just great…" he muttered as he entered the room. He looked around at the brightly lit, spacious area, taking in all the scientific machinery and devices. "Okay…" he muttered as he looked around for a sign of life.
"Ah, there you are, this way Mr. Rogers," he heard a voice calling him forward.
He walked around a large tank of liquid to where the voice came from and came upon two men. One was an older man in a white lab coat and thick glasses, the other an Army officer by look, but no rank was displayed. "Um… Steve Rogers reporting as ordered?" the boy gazed around uncertainly.
The Army man glared at him, obviously disgusted. "You aren't anyone, we are not anyone, this place does not exist, do I make myself clear?" he glared at the boy.
"Yes sir," Steve replied alertly.
"I don't know how or why you were given that card, but you are here now, get on with it Professor," he motioned at the older man.
"You'll have to excuse my friend here, the project we are working on has not had the results we had hoped it would," the older man smiled and walked up to Steve, examining him closely. "Hmm, a bit smaller than the last few subjects," he mused as he poked in various places. "Decent muscle mass already, obviously not done growing, younger than expected," he rattled things off to himself.
"Can I ask a question?" Steve asked, startling the scientist.
"Of course my boy," the man smiled and pulled out a clipboard and began writing on it and crossing other things out.
"What is this? Besides that it does not exist," he added, looking at the Army man.
"This is a special proje…" the scientist was interrupted by the other man.
"That is classified, he does not need to know," the man replied.
"Like your men will let him tell anyone about this," the scientist replied, making the Army man frown. "This is a secret project authorized by the highest levels of the government, code named Operation: Rebirth. The goal of this project is to devise a way to train soldiers faster and better for combat," the man continued and motioned for Steve to follow him.
He gestured at the huge glass cylinder that Steve had to go around to get to them. "We are going to expose you to a special serum of chemicals in the hope that it will accelerate your cellular growth and make you a better, stronger human," the man smiled.
Steve looked into the glass cylinder, thinking it resembled a coffin. "What about those other subjects you talked about, what happened to them?" he asked nervously.
"They did not react well to the serum, their bodies rejected the chemicals, having severe reactions in some cases," the scientist replied. "But I believe I have fixed the problems in the serum, it should work this time," the man smiled and hummed as he worked on some numbers on his clipboard.
"That being said, you are in this now, one way or another," the Army man added. "If you decline to participate, you will be tossed in Leavenworth until the end of the war and monitored until I time that this project is not considered top secret," he threatened.
"And if the chemicals take… I get to fight?" he noticed the odd look in the man's eyes.
"If the chemicals take, I guarantee you will get all the fighting you can handle," the man replied oddly.
Steve put his hand on the glass, closing his eyes, thinking for a moment. "Where do I sign?" he sighed.
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"You had better be right this time Professor," the Army man frowned as several lab techs helped the boy into the cylinder, attaching IVs and sensors where they were needed. "If this doesn't work they are probably going to pull our funding," he frowned at the older man who just waved him off.
"I am sure I have corrected the impurities in the serum, I made this batch myself last week and have kept it in cold storage under guard like you suggested since then," the old man replied. "I cannot believe that any of our men would be saboteurs though," he continued supervising as the boy was lowered under the water, breathing through a modified SCUBA mouthpiece, looking back through the glass nervously.
"I am not taking any chances this time," the Army man replied. "My contacts in the DoD hinted that if we fail, they are going to pull the plug," he watched as the kid followed him and the professor with his eyes while being suspended in the water.
"I feel good about this one, call it a feeling," the old man smiled, patting the Army man on the arm. "Either way, we will know soon enough, nothing ventured, nothing gained," he added.
The Army man watched as the kid in the tube raised his hand in a salute before returning it and following the Professor. "Ready when you are," he nodded.
"Begin the external chemical bath," the old man spoke into a microphone, his voice booming loudly over the room. Some techs turned a few levers and a greenish chemical seeped in the bottom of the tank and began mixing with the water in the tank as a small motor at the base agitated the water. "Stage one complete; begin irradiation stage 1, "he continued. They watched as the boy in the tube cringed in pain as several short beams of irradiated particles were shot at him.
"Should he be able to feel the radiation?" the Army man asked curiously.
"I did not think so, no one else has noticed it, the external chemical bath was supposed to dull the sense to prevent that," the Professor mused as the boy stopped twitching. "Initiate final stage," he ordered as the tech flipped the remaining switches and the chemicals began to pump through the small tubes into Steve's bloodstream.
"He seems pretty out of it," the Army man commented. "The others were screaming uncontrollably or convulsing at this point," he continued.
"This is either very good, or very bad then, exciting, isn't it?" the Professor smiled.
"I don't find playing with people's lives exciting Professor," the man replied as they watched the chemicals continue to pump into the boy until the pumps stopped and were empty. "When will we know?" he asked as the techs work to shut off all machinery but the sensors that were hooked up.
"There is no way to know when he will wake up, we'll leave him in there until tomorrow, then start an IV nutrient drip if he does not wake up," the Professor replied. "If he does not wake in 3 days, we will remove him from the infusion chamber and see where we can go from there," the Professor stopped and glared at a technician that was fiddling with a pump. "You there, what are you doing?" he shouted to the man who did not react.
"You heard the Professor, what are you doing soldier?" the Army man shouted.
The technician stood up slowly, stepping away from the pump he was working on. Strapped to his chest were over a dozen sticks of TNT, linked to a device in his hand. "For the Fuhrer!" he shouted and dove at a pipeline, exploding into a ball of fire.
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It's hot in here. The boy in the tube frowned when he felt himself coming to after the pain from the experiment had knocked him out. Why is it hot? He thought suddenly as he struggled to open his eyes. He gasped, choking on water before fixing the breather he had in his mouth. The lab was on fire, the ceiling was caving in all over the place. He could see bodies from most of the techs lying unmoving on the ground. The Professor was lying on a pool of blood unmoving; he could see a pool of blood and several jagged pieces of metal sticking up from his midsection.
He caught a glimpse of movement and saw the Army man pinned under a sheet of metal, struggling to escape. Need to get out of here. He thought to himself, looking up and seeing the top of the cylinder was sealed. He pulled back his fist and started banging on the glass, his fist making a weak sound as he struggled against the water. Not working, this isn't good. He thought to himself before he saw the oxygen tank that was hooked to his breather explode in fire and spat it out. He calmed himself, pulling out the IVs and sensors, settling to the bottom of the tank, holding his breath. One more shot, come on… He crouched against the opposite wall and used his legs to help slam his shoulder into the glass. He met the glass with a thud, moved back and drove his shoulder into it again.
Come on! You can't die here! He heard his friends in his head. He pulled back his hand and punched forward with all his strength, loudly impacting the glass. When he pulled his hand back he saw a small crack forming. He gathered the rest of his strength and lunged with his shoulder one more time, making the crack get even larger and keep expanding on its own. He beat weakly on the glass as the cracks continued expanding, then shattered, spilling him and the water out onto the lab's floor.
He gasped for air sharply then coughed as all he got was a mouthful of smoke. He unsteadily got to his feet and staggered over to where the Army man was pinned to the ground. "What happened?" he gasped as he gripped the metal sheet and lifted it enough for the man to pull himself out.
"Damn Nazi had TNT strapped to him, threw himself at the gas main," the man explained softly. "Kid, I can't walk that thing crushed my legs and some of my ribs," he gasped in pain. "Get the Professor and get out of here, that's an order," he grimaced.
"The rest are all dead, it's just me and you," he shook his head. "The name is Steve, not kid," he frowned as he picked the man up and slung him over his shoulder. "Hope you don't mind being carried out of here," he added as he took off running through the fires and remains of the collapsing building.