Chapter 10. Two Flights

Steven Grant

After Rogers and his group left with some of the Resistance on their overland journey to Holland, Howlett, Bradley, and Raines went with a couple of the pilots and other Resistance members to assess the airfield and confirm there was a large enough aircraft to carry the capsules. Grant and the others did their best to stay hidden during the morning. Although some of the men slept most were too anxious about being discovered and instead stayed on watch. Dr. Waslewski chose to stay near the capsules, dividing her time between the two trucks while monitoring the settings. The young blue-eyed sergeant stayed with her, even offering her a cigarette when he helped her off one of the trucks.

"You're very strong," she noted, as she blew out some smoke.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, not volunteering anything else.

"You're not going to boast how you've become stronger while you were in the Army?" she teased. "I thought that was the way of the Americans."

A brief chuckle brightened his face up considerably, but he shook his head. "Sorry, I can't tell you anything. I'm sure they'll enlighten you when we get back to England. Special Agent Grant has his reasons for playing his cards close to his chest."

"Do you know him very well?"

Another enigmatic smile appeared before the sergeant took another drag of his cigarette, while assessing her.

"Quite well, although he's changed from the man I knew when I was younger. Damn, you'd be a good interrogator. Please, don't ask me anymore questions about him. I'm sure he'll fill you in when he's ready."

The young sergeant's reply was puzzling to her, and she looked over to where Grant was going over some maps with a couple of his men. One of the men lit a cigarette but dropped the lighter and Grant caught it before it reached the ground, without even looking at it. The speed and accuracy of his reaction was incredible, and she realized he had just confirmed what she asked him earlier about being a super soldier. There was no other explanation for his quick reaction, as well as for the strength shown by the other sergeant and the young sergeant with her. She turned back to him and saw an amused look in his eyes.

"You are one as well," she said then quickly shook her head when he looked exasperated. "You don't have to answer."

Before he could say anything else, they were interrupted by the arrival of the group that scouted the airfield. Everyone crowded around where Grant was receiving their report.

"There's a Gigant there, being unloaded," said Howlett. "Should take them most of the day. Goldstein here said they usually fuel up after the aircraft is unloaded and before they start loading new cargo. Two of his men are watching and will report when the fueling is done. That's when we should take them. It's probably a good opportunity to damage the airfield as well, make it impossible for their fighters to come after us. While the pilots are getting the aircraft ready you and Barnes can load the capsules while Bradley and I take the others and rig it all to go up after we take off. I'm sure Rumlow and the bomb expert with Goldstein can come up with something suitable."

"Alright, sounds like a plan," said Grant. "Any sign of anyone looking for us?"

"Not yet," answered Howlett, "but I expect that will change by nightfall."

"Try to rustle up some food, if you can," ordered Grant. "I'm feeling a little peckish."

"Yes sir, Corporal Bradley was saying the same thing."

Howlett grinned then placed his unlit cigar back in his mouth. Turning to Goldstein they assigned some men to find some food, warning them not to take too much to alert the authorities to a large group of escaped prisoners. Grant folded his map up and placed it inside his jacket then realized Dr. Waslewski was observing him, while Barnes stood near her. The sergeant lifted his eyebrows slightly as if to warn Grant that she was asking questions. Approaching the pair, he told Barnes to take a break then he leaned against the tailgate of the truck that was closest.

"Something on your mind?" he asked.

"You are a super soldier, as is Sergeant Barnes, Sergeant Howlett, Captain Rogers, and Corporal Dugan," she said. "All of you have shown signs of great strength."

"Dugan isn't a super soldier," he replied, "just a former circus strongman, so stronger than most people. Captain Rogers is Captain America, the man behind the rescue at the HYDRA factory in Austria, but we decided not to make his identity on this mission known until we got back with the PoWs." He sighed then looked at her, debating how much more to tell her. "Sergeant Howlett isn't a super soldier from the serum. He's something else, somethin different but he has many of the same qualities. Sergeant Barnes is part way there. He was a PoW experimented on by Dr. Arnim Zola at that Austrian factory, but the process wasn't completed. I am a super soldier."

"By what process were you made one?" she asked.

"By Dr. Erskine's formula and the same process that Captain Rogers underwent."

"Recently? We thought they were only able to transform one man."

"That's true," he said, bluntly. "I was the one man in my timeline. Then I came to this timeline to prevent HYDRA from changing another man. I'm trusting you not to repeat this information."

She gazed at him steadily. "I won't but I have one question." He nodded. "Was I alive in your timeline?"

He didn't answer for the longest time as his blue-green eyes returned her gaze. "For a time. You and your sister are part of why I came back. I promised to find you."

For the briefest of moments, she saw something in his eyes; a sadness perhaps, and she understood that she was truly under his protection now. Gently, she pressed her hand on his then leaned back against the tailgate beside him, looking out over the gravel quarry. There was still much she wanted to ask but she understood that this man beside her was on a very personal quest that involved her and Anya, her sister, as well as someone else. This man was here to fight evil, an evil that had hurt him personally.

Surprisingly, his hint of being from another timeline didn't surprise her. As a scientist she kept abreast of many scientific accomplishments in many fields. The existence of other timelines had been publicly theorized as part of a thought experiment described by Erwin Schrödinger in conversation with Albert Einstein. It did explain one thing: Grant's resemblance to Steve Rogers. Perhaps he was that man's equivalent in another timeline, one where HYDRA also existed and had done great damage.

Throughout the day several of the men sent out on foraging expeditions came back with food, stolen from several different places in the hopes the authorities wouldn't link them. As nightfall approached, everyone managed to eat enough to feel at least partially satisfied. When the word was given to head to the airfield they piled on to the trucks, with the resistance members driving. As expected, from their vantage point, they could see the large aircraft being refuelled. The plan to take the airfield, which had been drawn up during the day, was repeated and everyone's part was confirmed. Dr. Waslewski would be in one truck with Grant and a couple of pilots, while Barnes drove the other truck with the engineers and Raines. Both men would drive straight to the aircraft with the capsules and begin loading them while everyone else not associated with manning the aircraft would take out the guards, aircrews, and anyone else in their way. Rumlow, the bomb expert from the Resistance, and their teams would use the fuel on the airfield, and the fuelling trucks to send everything up. If there were any hiccups Grant gave everyone permission to deal with it as best they could. They synchronized their watches, setting a time for everyone to be at the aircraft then waited for darkness.

On this night, luck was with them. Although word of the escape had made it to the various detachments in Germany it had been thought that such a large group would make their way to Switzerland by rail, taking over one of many trains that were running in the country at that time. The searches for the missing trucks were focused on rail yards south of where the secret camp was instead of areas west towards the airbase. By the time the large group had boarded the aircraft, and the pilots began taxiing towards the long runway, the first explosions started on the far end of the airfield. As the Gigant picked up speed and began to rise into the air the entire facility was burning, every aircraft on it destroyed, every hangar aflame, and all paved portions except for the long runway full of craters from little improvised bombs left behind as surprises.

As they manned the defensive weapons on the large aircraft, they flew a straight-line west over Holland to the North Sea. Raines sent a coded message using the Gigant's radio system, requesting not to be fired at as they brought a large contingent back, plus one of the largest aircraft ever built to that time. When he received the confirmation code that the skies would be cleared for them, Grant turned to the others.

"Well done," he announced. "By now the others should be boarding their fishing boats in Arnhem and headed down the Rhine towards the North Sea. With luck, they'll be boarding the submarine tomorrow morning and we'll be celebrating in the Whip and Fiddle tomorrow night."

Their part of the escape had gone so well, even though it had been thought up on the spur of the moment. There was no reason that the other, original plan wouldn't still work. It had been set up by the best tacticians at military headquarters, men with years of experience planning campaigns and missions. The thought that their original plan to get the Howling Commandos, the Phantom Patrol and a large number of PoWs back would fall prey to the suspicions of a meek company clerk who wondered where all the fishing boats suddenly came from never once occurred to them. Especially when that clerk made a leap in logic by connecting an escape of many men from a secret prisoner camp with a large number of fishing boats suddenly appearing in a town whose river led to the sea.

Steve Rogers

They were in trouble, definitely in trouble. Dum Dum, Morita, Dernier, Jones and Farnsworth were beside him and he was just waiting for one of them to make a remark saying as much. Turning his head to look at them he saw five pairs of eyes on him, waiting for him to say something.

"It could be worse," said Jeroen, the Dutch Resistance fighter on the other side of Steve. "You could have been in the boats when they found them."

The burning fishing boats were ablaze when they arrived at the dock in Arnhem. Somehow, someone tipped off the Germans that the escaped prisoners from a secret PoW camp in western Germany were headed towards Arnhem to take fishing boats down the Rhine to the North Sea.

"What are our choices?" asked Rogers.

"All your choices have problems," replied the Dutchman, diplomatically. "If you go north towards Kampen you may have better luck getting boats, but Lake IJessel does have mines in it. Assuming you get through it then you have to go through the locks to the North Sea, not an easy thing to do considering the Germans control the locks for their ships to come and go. Or you could continue to drive towards Rotterdam. There are more boats there but also more Germans. There is a third choice which will also be dangerous."

"What's that?" Rogers looked expectantly at Jeroen.

"You raid the airport in Amsterdam, steal an aircraft and fly to England," he replied. "You are special forces, yes? Shouldn't be a problem for you."

"We don't have any pilots," replied Rogers. "Who's going to fly the aircraft?"

"You leave that to me," grinned Jeroen. "We always have some pilots in hiding until we can move them. Normally, we smuggle them through France to Spain then Gibraltar where the English still have control. I'm sure out of the pilots still waiting to escape there should be a couple willing to fly an airplane for you. We can send a coded message to England that a stolen German aircraft is coming with your team on it."

The young captain looked at the others, knowing they were expecting him to make the decision, being Captain America and all. This, on his first "official" mission, was an opportunity to build on the success of the raid on the Austrian HYDRA factory, the one where Bucky had been imprisoned. God, he wished he had his friend with him at that moment. Bucky would give it to him straight. The others would as well, but he knew he could trust his best friend implicitly.

"We'll need something big enough to carry everyone," he said to Jeroen. "A troop carrier."

"Something similar to a C-47," said Farnsworth. "Except they only carry 30 paratroopers. We have 34 people."

"That's fully loaded paratroopers, with guns, bedrolls, ammunition, the works," countered Rogers.

"Doesn't matter," retorted Jeroen. "The standard German paratrooper aircraft is a Junkers Ju 52. It carries less than half that complement. We'll have to steal two aircraft, have two pilots for each, and even then, you'll be pushing the weight limits. You may be able to have parachutes for everyone." He expelled a large breath. "Even if we get a message to England that you're coming it is likely that you might get fired upon before you reach the coast. The Germans are always flying around the English Channel, playing games with the English defensive positions on the coast, and they won't be able to tell you apart from the others."

By the look on Farnsworth's face, he thought it would be a difficult task but what choice did they have?

"Find us two of those aircraft," said Steve to Jeroen. "Parachutes as well. Maybe we can throw some paint on the fuselage before we take off that can identify us as allies. If not, everyone can bail out over the coastal areas and at least parachute to safety. If they get arrested it won't take long to get that cleared up."

"You're right," agreed Farnsworth. "We have no choice. It's the only way to get back."

Heading back to the stolen trucks Jeroen directed them to as safe a place as any to wait while he tried to find them aircraft and pilots to fly them. A burnt-out factory outside Amsterdam with the Resistance watching for any unwanted attention became their hideout for the day and a half it took for the Dutch leader to come back to them.

"Only two pilots, I'm afraid," he announced to Rogers and the other Howling Commandos. "They will be here shortly at which point you'll have to go to the airfield immediately. But I did learn of another aircraft that usually takes 30 fully armed paratroopers plus flight crew and jump master, a Junkers Ju 90. Still working on finding you enough parachutes." He looked away for a moment with a pained look on his face. "We lost our radio person and the radio, so we were unable to advise England that your boat escape was compromised. Couldn't tell them about this new plan. You will be flying in blind as we haven't been able to reestablish contact."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to make the best of it," replied Rogers. He looked to the others. "Let the men know we're heading out as soon as the pilots arrive."

Over an hour later they had successfully infiltrated the airport, after cutting through the fence nearest the hangar where the aircraft they were going to steal was. They had encountered a few sentries, easily taking care of them and leaving them tied up in a place where they wouldn't be discovered for a time. The bigger aircraft was currently parked out on the grass of the airfield, presumably waiting to be loaded up with paratroopers. The two Allied pilots that had volunteered to come out of hiding looked at it through the binoculars that Jeroen provided to them before confirming they could likely fly it.

"Do you have someone who knows German?" asked one. "The controls will be in German and although their locations should be the same as in an American aircraft, I don't want to press the wrong button or toggle the wrong switch."

"Jones!" The young private came over to Rogers. "I'm assigning you to these two pilots. Get them into the cockpit and translate the controls for them."

"You got it, Cap," answered the young man. "Stick with me, guys."

While they watched Jeroen received a visible signal from one of his men and he turned to Rogers.

"My men are in position and ready," he said. "One of them will drive a truck with the extra parachutes over while you all make a run for the plane. Don't stop, just get on board. We'll handle the Germans." He grinned. "Your explosives man and mine have cooked up a little surprise for them that will keep them all occupied. It will keep them grounded for a while as well."

He didn't elaborate but didn't have to when a loud explosion at the other end of the airfield went off. A large fuel tank went up in flames, followed by another. The signal was given and the Commandos, along with the escaped prisoners ran like the devil towards the aircraft. A truck pulled up beside it and two men got out, opening the back. As the soldiers arrived, they were given a parachute and told to board. Jones and the two pilots got on first so they could begin the process of starting the aircraft. Dugan, Farnsworth and Dernier removed the chocks keeping the airplane in place, then grabbed their parachutes and boarded, leaving only Rogers out on the field with the two men handing out the parachutes to the remaining PoWs. He stood expectantly waiting to be handed his then realized the two men had miscounted; there was no parachute for him. There was also no time to argue about it either as several vehicles with German soldiers on them burst onto the airfield. With a grimace, Rogers leapt into the back of the aircraft and pulled the door close.

"Go!" He yelled. "We're taking fire!"

The pilots pushed the throttle, taking the shortest route to the longest runway, dodging vehicles that came out to stop them. As they lifted into the air there was a cheer from the men and Rogers made his way to the cockpit. Within minutes they were out over the North Sea, headed southwest towards England.

"Any chance you can get a message out on their radio to tell them we're on our way?" he asked Jones.

"I'll try," he said, charging up the radio station behind the two pilots. After several tries, he turned back to Rogers, shaking his head. "The aerial must have been hit as there's nothing."

"That's not the only thing that was hit," said the one pilot, gesturing to a warning light. "We're losing oil pressure. We can go straight across to Suffolk, but they'll likely train their anti-aircraft defences against us."

"Do it and try not to give them a good target," said Rogers. "We'll get everyone bailed out over land then you give control of the aircraft to me. I'll take it back over the North Sea and ditch it."

They both looked at him, astounded. "You'll be killed."

"My mission, my orders," he replied. "We went to get a bunch of PoWs out and that's what we're doing. When you land, don't resist. My men know who to contact once they're on the ground."

As promised, as soon as they approached the east coast of England anti-aircraft defences began firing upon them. The moment they were above land the back door was opened and Farnsworth guided them out the opening, reminding everyone to surrender. Then he and the remainder of the Commandos looked at their captain.

"You're sure about this?" Farnsworth voice was barely audible over the sound of the rushing air and exploding flak that miraculously hadn't yet hit the aircraft.

"I should be able to survive if I jump before the plane hits the water," explained Rogers, yelling as loudly as he could. "I'm as sure of that as anything, I guess. You just make sure to call for the General when you get down there. One of you wait here for the pilots and make sure they jump."

Rogers headed to the cockpit, receiving a quick tutorial on how to ditch the aircraft then both pilots grabbed his hand, shaking it as they gave control over to him. Looking back, he saw the pilots stumble towards the opening them looked again, seeing Farnsworth jump out last. Turning the aircraft back towards the North Sea, Rogers dodged the flak as best he could. Just as he was out over the water, the airplane took a hit. The super soldier realized he no longer had control of the aircraft and knew the time had come for him to jump. As the aircraft began to dive towards the water he leaped out as far away from it as he could, estimating he was still a couple of hundred feet above the water. Surprisingly, in those few seconds of free fall he felt no fear, only having enough reaction time to make himself as straight as possible as he entered the water. Slicing into the surface like a knife he went under and blacked out as the impact rocked him. There wasn't even time to think.

~~~~~~~

The murmuring he could hear grew louder and more distinct. Out of all the different voices there was one that he focused on and tried to say her name. Even though he failed to say it properly it must have done the trick because he felt her soft hands on his cheek.

"Steve? Darling, do you hear me?" He tried to nod his head, but it hurt so he opened his eyes and saw Peggy's face just above him. "There you are. We were worried about you. How do you feel?"

"Hurts like hell," he whispered. Then his mind became clearer. "Did they all make it?"

She smiled and he became aware of other faces behind her, General Phillips, Dr. Erskine, Bucky, and Steven Grant.

"Yes, Steve, they all made it," she answered.

"It's already on the newsreels and in the newspapers," said the General. "Captain America and the Howling Commandos rescue more than a hundred Allied PoWs from a secret German concentration camp in a daring rescue involving stolen German aircraft."

"Grant's people?" Rogers tried to make it a full question but that's all he could say.

"We got them all out but officially it was all your mission," said his own voice, coming from Steven Grant's face. "You've been out for a few days. You must have taken the stupid with you to try jumping from a diving aircraft 200 feet up."

"Grant, you would have done it," said Bucky, who was grinning at both men. "But he's right. What were you thinking, punk?"

"No time to think."

Rogers tried to get up, but everyone told him to stay down. "You are on bed rest for the rest of the week," said Dr. Erskine's voice as he came to the side of the bed. "You pushed the limits of your body on this one, Steven. Let it heal. Everyone, out." There were murmurs of protest and the doctor relented. "Alright, Agent Carter, you may stay. Everyone else, let the man rest. He can get his medals later."

It became considerably quieter, and Rogers had the chance to look around. He was in a private room, with a window to the outside. Peggy sat on a chair next to the bed and he thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful. Raising his hand, he felt something swell inside of his chest when she took his hand in hers and kissed it.

"You like me?" She nodded. "You love me?" She blushed but nodded again. "I love you, too. I'm glad your face was the one I woke up to."

There was more he would have asked but with her lips on his he thought it was better to let actions speak for now. Even though it hurt to do it he put his arm around her and held her close as they kissed. There was time for words later. There would be time for so much more. Of that he was certain.