Chapter 8. Clearing the Air

Content warning: The spectre of racism is going to raise its ugly head, from an outside source. Grant is going to let the men in both squads deal with it as he wants to know if they'll pull together to protect the squads from outsiders messing with them.

—-

The first thing Grant did when they finally arrived at the London base was to get quarters assigned to Bradley and Rumlow, and arrange for their clothing kit. He sent Rose to find Captain Rogers, demanding a meeting as soon as possible with him. When Steve arrived, he was still disturbed at the tone with which he was summoned. All of that was replaced by his own righteous anger when Grant told him what he had found out about Isaiah Bradley.

"There was a second super soldier project? You're sure that's what he said?"

Steve stood there in the briefing room with Grant and Corporal Rose, not quite believing what he had just heard.

"That's what Bradley said," confirmed Grant. "Rose heard it. So did Private Rumlow. They kept Bradley in solitary confinement and by how sensitive his eyes were to the light they kept him in the dark, literally. He went on his own to destroy the Nazi base where their super soldier project was underway. Nazi ... not HYDRA. Then they court-martialled him for desertion and theft of your Captain America uniform. It must have been a tight fit because he's a bigger man than you. What worries me the most is that the doctor of his project said the serum wasn't ready, but they still injected him with it. What if it has side effects like the HYDRA version?"

"Then he needs my serum as well," said Steve. "We have to confront General Phillips and Dr. Erskine, although I can't believe the doctor knew about this. He wouldn't have injected anyone if the serum wasn't ready."

"You're right but what if he wasn't given a choice? Maybe this came from higher up." Grant rubbed his forehead. It was almost too much to take in. "We have to see the General and Dr. Erskine now. There's no other way to find out the truth." Grant turned to Corporal Rose. "Would you make sure that Bradley is squared away, then bring him over to the lab?"

While Rose went to the barracks Grant and Rogers headed to the lab where they could see through the window that Dr. Erskine was talking to Peggy Carter. Major Lambert and Lieutenant Hay were nowhere to be seen. The two super soldiers looked at each other, then Grant shrugged.

"She was cleared for Project Rebirth," he stated. "As far as I'm concerned, she should be in the know about this as well."

The MP opened the door for them allowing them into the lab. Peggy stopped speaking and turned towards the two men, noticing the looks on their faces.

"What is it?" she asked. "What's happened?"

"Did either of you know about Project Super Soldier?" Grant looked from her to the doctor. Erskine looked puzzled but Peggy frowned. Had she known about it? "Answer me."

She sighed. "Yes, but it was stopped over two years ago when Dr. Nagel said there were issues with the serum. Shortly after, we learned of Dr. Erskine's location and were able to rescue him, bringing him here. He was already further along in his research than Dr. Nagel was. All resources were to be focused on Project Rebirth."

"Who is Dr. Josef Reinstein?" asked Grant, to which Erskine now frowned, at the pronunciation using the German form of Joseph.

"I used the alias Dr. Joseph Reinstein to escape from Germany to Switzerland," he said. "I didn't use the German variation of Joseph. What is this about Project Super Soldier?"

"Did you know they were using African American test subjects, not giving them the choice to refuse the serum?" asked Grant, focusing on Peggy.

"That's also one of the reasons that project was shut down," she declared, her face blushing. She shook her head, angrily. "I can only guess that General Saunders relocated it to another base and kept Dr. Nagel on it but gave him a different name so that it wouldn't be associated with the doctor. How did you find out about it?"

The door to the lab opened and Corporal Rose walked in with Private Bradley. Peggy looked at him with some alarm then back at Grant and Rogers.

"Private Isaiah Bradley," said Agent Grant. "This is Dr. Erskine and Agent Peggy Carter of the SSR. Have you met either of them before?"

"No sir," replied the soldier. "I recall Dr. Nagel referring to Agent Carter. He wasn't very complimentary, and I would rather not repeat his words about the lady. Sorry, ma'am."

"Private Bradley was given serum by a Dr. Reinstein who freely admitted it wasn't ready," said Grant. "He was one of seven men to receive it who were all sent on a mission to Germany. The others died either from the serum or the mission. Only Bradley survived. He went back to Germany to destroy a Nazi super soldier facility but was captured and tortured. Rescued by a German anti-Nazi resistance unit he was led back to allied lines where he was arrested for desertion, and theft, then court-martialled, and sentenced to solitary confinement. We found him this morning and I used my standing orders to get him out of there. Someone didn't want us to know about him."

Peggy looked back at Grant. "You brought his name with you, didn't you? But you weren't expecting to find him already a super soldier?"

"No, I think this timeline was changed before I got here," he admitted. "Private Bradley shouldn't have been transformed until the end of the decade. Do you think General Phillips knew?"

"Knew what?" said the General's voice, as he walked in with Major Lambert and Lieutenant Hay. He noticed Isaiah Bradley and came up to him, looking up at the big man. "I assume you're Private Isaiah Bradley?"

"Yes sir," replied the super soldier.

"I'm glad Special Agent Grant was able to get you out of that prison," he said. "I received a phone call from Colonel Flynn informing me that Grant took you and a Private Rumlow from custody. I was hoping Flynn would finally do the right thing and release you."

"You knew he was in there?" Grant stood angrily in front of the General. "How long were you willing to let him stay in there before they ..."

Phillips cut him off. "I've been trying ever since that sham of a court martial. Project Super Soldier was mothballed for a reason. That serum had major health issues associated with it and the fact they were using forced test subjects was against everything we've been fighting for. Then my former West Point classmate General Maxfield Saunders packed everything up and relocated it to his new post in Cathcart, Mississippi. That's where you were encouraged to "volunteer", wasn't it Bradley?"

"Yes sir," replied Bradley. "Two battalions, told we were being given vaccinations, when we were receiving the serum instead. Most of them died."

"I'm sorry. Not enough to look at you with a clear conscience, I know." Phillips shook his head and took his cap off. "Sometimes I hate being in the position I'm in. I am a General, yes, but I answer to others, and they made the decision to hide the evidence of Project Super Soldier, including the last surviving test subject, Private Bradley. I hoped with the standing orders that General Eisenhower signed with me that you would be able to get the Private out of that hell hole. Flynn was under orders to keep him under wraps. Looks like you pulled one over on them, Grant."

"So that's it? I'm supposed to accept that you manipulated me into doing what any decent commander should have done."

"If you want to think of it that way, so be it," replied the General. "Yes, it's your name on the release form but it's still my name and Eisenhower's name approving the standing orders. No one will question that decision now and you've brought another asset into the fight, a good one from what I heard." He contemplated something for a moment then looked as if he made a decision. "Your first mission will be a joint one, with both squads, the Howling Commandos and the Phantom Patrol. You go back to that Nazi super soldier camp, and you rescue our boys, then blow that place to kingdom come. Grant, you can interrogate the scientists there, winnow out those who are true believers from those who were forced to work for the enemy. Private, you have every right to refuse this mission but I'm asking you as one old soldier to a man who already proved his bravery by going back by himself to that camp. Will you join Special Agent Grant's squad? You'll be working mostly in the shadows but it's important work."

The big man seemed to grow noticeably as he straightened to his full height, then looked down at the General.

"My court martial. Can you get it overturned and my rank restored?"

"I'll do my best, as an officer and a gentleman. I'll also advise your wife that you are alive and well. For now, I would like you to be examined by Dr. Erskine and Major Lambert. They'll be able to tell if the serum you received was pure enough not to cause you difficulties and advise you if they find otherwise. Gentlemen, ladies."

He put his cap back and left the lab. Bradley waited for Grant to say something.

"You're a free man to decide as you please, Private," he said. "For now, have your examination and I'll come by later to introduce you to both squads at the mess hall." He looked at Rogers. "We should have a gathering at the pub after with both of our squads before we get down to business tomorrow. Let off a little steam. Agreed?"

—-

Whip & Fiddle Pub, that evening

Several hours later the combined squads were at the pub, taking advantage of the tab opened for them by Captain Rogers and Special Agent Grant. The two leaders of the squads sat in the corner of the busy establishment, observing the ongoing socialization of their two units. What began at the mess hall when they sat with their sergeants and watched the enlisted men as they began interacting with each other continued in the more jovial atmosphere in the pub. What was interesting to Grant and Sergeant Howlett was how his squad seemed to be more observational in their dealings with Rogers' team. Corporal Rose sat back, smoking his cigarette while listening in on the various anecdotes being told by Dum Dum Dugan and Jim Morita. Raines and Rumlow also sat back but contributed brief comments asking for clarification then offered ready laughter when it was called for. Bradley was quiet, nursing a single beer for a long interval, although he asked Jones a question from time to time, receiving earnest answers from the young private. Major Falsworth studied everyone, from both squads, even looking over to the leaders every so often.

"You're telling me that a British Major will take orders from an American Captain?" said Howlett. "Never knew a Limey officer to do that."

"Falsworth was good," said Grant. "Paratrooper like you. His marksmanship was exemplary, same with his tactical skills and I'd put him up with the best of the British Commandos in hand to hand combat. He agreed to become a Howlie because he believed in what they were doing. They all did, Sergeant."

"Well, we'll just have to be as good or better than you remember them," said the Canadian soldier. "We have one less man. Is there anyone else left to recruit for our squad?"

"Yes, there may be someone, but we won't be able to keep him," said Grant. "He's important for the future of the SSR and the fight against HYDRA but it means we'll have to let him go on his own mission in about a year."

He didn't elaborate and Howlett drank some of his whiskey, then took a drag on his cigar.

"Here comes trouble," said Bucky, nodding to where several American soldiers arrived at the door, looking with disgust at Jones and Bradley.

All four of them sat up, but Grant put his hand out. "Let's see how it develops before we intervene."

"You'd think they'd clean the trash up inside their pubs," drawled one of the Americans, his southern accent as thick as molasses. "Hey boy, who allowed you in here?"

The men of the Commandos and the Patrol both stopped talking and looked at the group of soldiers.

"Are you gentlemen speaking to one of our party?" asked Falsworth, his manner polite, but his eyes razor sharp.

"I'm speaking to the coloured boys in your party," snapped the soldier, sneering at use of the word party to describe the group. "They ain't welcome here."

"Funny, no one's said anything before," answered Falsworth. "You have a problem with them, then you aren't welcome, and I speak for everyone here."

"Cap," muttered Bucky, his eyes burning as he readied to launch himself at the newcomers.

"Wait, Buck," murmured Steve. "Let them handle it."

He nodded towards the other soldiers and the civilians who were also in the pub, all of them seeming to be ready to jump to the defence of Jones and Bradley. With a sneer the soldier who spoke strode over to Bradley and tried to pull him out of his chair. The Private planted himself further into the chair, preventing the man's efforts from having any effect on him.

"What the hell?" muttered the man. "Hey, I'm talking to you. Get up."

Bradley didn't look at him but took a drink before putting the glass down and standing up, dwarfing the man. As he did so the others stood with him, encircling the group of men who had entered. Nervously, the other newcomers tried to pull their friend away from Bradley.

"Roy, leave him alone," said one of them, leaning close. "We're outnumbered here. We can find another place to have a drink."

"No, I want this boy to know his place," replied the aforementioned Roy, oblivious to the danger he was in.

"Who are you calling a boy?" Bradley growled, and the others who had been sitting with him grinned.

"My good fellow," said Falsworth, placing himself so that Roy had no choice but to look at him. "I can tell you with certainty that this is no boy. This is a man, just out of prison, after savagely killing almost a hundred Nazis all by himself. They were terrified of him in the prison, and allowed him to join our special forces squad for a mission deep in enemy territory. We kind of like him because he makes little Southern boys like you who think they're better than they are, wet their pants. Your friends have already left you behind, having recognized the danger they were in. But you, in your quest to prove your superior skin colour is now surrounded by this man's friends and squad mates. I will let you know something ... we don't like you, because you don't know when you've already lost. So be a good little Southern boy, and find someone to sell you a fizzy pop, while you think about how close you came to being a casualty before you even got to the front, you gormless git."

The Major never once raised his voice but there was no doubting the menace that was in his warning to the soldier, a menace that was reinforced by the intensity of the men surrounding the soldier. Dernier said something in French which Jones laughed at.

"Our French colleague wants to know if you are the "roi des cons" meaning the king of idiots," said Jones. "Personally, I don't think you're the king of them, more like the village idiot yourself."

"Who do you think you're talking to, n—!"

He was cut off as Bradley picked him up by his collar with one hand, raising him overhead. Both Rogers and Grant stood up then, but Corporal Rose shook his head at both men from where he stood and looked up at the terrified soldier.

"Say you're sorry to both gentlemen," he suggested. "Then walk out of here alive with what's left of your dignity. You're out of options, Private."

The way Rose said it must have finally sunk into the man's brain because he apologized and Bradley lowered him, then released his collar, all while staring into the man's eyes. Looking all around the soldier straightened his collar then walked out without a backward glance. The piano player began playing again and the bartender came with a tray of beers and whiskeys, telling them it was on the house. Dum Dum picked up a beer and handed it to Bradley. It took a moment for the super soldier to accept it, but he did, and Dum Dum lifted his own glass of beer to him.

"Here's to Private Bradley for keeping his head around that asshole. I'm not sure you would have needed our help but I'm glad we didn't have to find out. Cheers!"

Both men drained it then Bradley loosened up a lot, and the atmosphere in the pub changed considerably. The four men at the other table relaxed. Grant and Rogers both downed a shot of whisky.

"He'll be alright," said Howlett. "I think Bradley needs to be sure we'll all have his back. Did your doctors find anything out about him?"

"They're still studying his blood," said Grant. "It's a different serum than HYDRA's version. He had issues in the future which they attributed to the serum variant, but it may have had more to do with the treatment he received. I'm hoping that believing we support him will help counteract anything that comes up. Anyways, both you sergeants make sure the boys are in bed by midnight. We're up at 06:00 for chow, and on the obstacle course by 07:00. Understood?"

With an informal salute from both sergeants Grant and Rogers both left, returning to the base to begin planning the joint mission to Germany.

—

The following morning no one seemed to have any ill effects from the evening spent at the pub. All the super soldiers piled up their plates, devouring their meals to the grins of the others. Reporting to the obstacle course Rogers had everyone running first, a brisk 2 mile run around the course to get the blood warmed up, he told them. Then they began the attack on the course, going through simulated physical conditions they could expect out on the mission. An assault on a wooden tower, built with a slanted but slick wall with no ropes to grasp onto proved a problem until Bradley jumped to the top of it, wedged himself in place then leaned to grasp the others as either Barnes or Howlett gave them a lift up, super soldier style. When Bradley easily pulled Dum Dum up using one arm the big Irish-American grinned at bigger man.

"How much can you lift?" he asked.

"Don't know," replied Bradley. "They're bringing in weights for Sgt. Barnes and me to figure that out. How much can you lift?"

"A lot," he admitted as he straddled the top of the wall. "I was a circus strongman, but I was also the real deal. Not one of those fakers who wrote 500 lbs on his barbells. I deadlifted 550 lbs just before the war and was only goofing around. My best at a circus performance was an overhead lift of 510 lbs. Just about killed me."

A yell from Howlett to get moving interrupted the conversation and the two men jumped down to go on to the next obstacle. As the morning went on a friendly rivalry developed between the two of them that brought smiles to both their faces as they began a friendship that would last a long time. After a break for lunch the two squads returned with their rifles as they progressed to the shooting range. Dernier learned that Rumlow was the demolitions man for the Patrol and placed himself next to the New Yorker, questioning him about his preferences in explosives.

"Well, I'm used to breaking safes open without damaging the contents," said the dark-haired safecracker. "I understand you have some experience with the Resistance taking on bigger targets. Whatever help you can give me in handling them would be greatly appreciated." He stopped talking for a moment then looked at the Frenchman. "How do you say Fucking Nazis in French."

"Putains de Nazis but fucking Nazis works for me also," replied Dernier as he spat onto the ground. "Putains d'HYDRA for good measure."

"Fucking right, my friend," grinned Rumlow. "What's my friend in French?"

"Mon ami," answered Dernier, smiling at this younger American who seemed to be happy to be part of the second squad. "I'll teach you French, yes? And you teach me about American women."

"Deal," said the younger man. "Except I'm married so I stopped looking because I love my wife."

"No mistress?"

Before Rumlow could answer both men were yelled at by Howlett to knock off the chatter. With an amused look between them they returned to firing at the targets. Raines said something in German to which Jones laughed, making him look over at the young American.

"You speak German?"

"Two years of it in college until I got smarter about French women being more attractive," replied Jones. "Your accent is good."

"I was living in Poland when Germany invaded. Joined the partisans then made my way to England and joined the English Army until the Americans got into it."

"Drafted," replied Jones. "We were at the factory when you were there. Thought we lost Sarge until he showed up with Cap." He leaned closer to Raines. "What's the deal with Grant and Rogers? They related?"

Raines realized that not everyone was in on the big secret about the two men but it wasn't going to come out of his mouth. He shook his head. "Need to know and I don't know most of it. If I were you I would ask to be clued in when we have our first planning briefing."

When everyone got a cigarette break half an hour later Raines noticed Jones going over to Morita and Falsworth, asking them something. They looked at him first, then at both sergeants before motioning to Dum Dum and Dernier to join them. Going over to where the two sergeants were smoking, Raines waited until he was acknowledged.

"They're asking questions about Grant and Rogers," he said. "I only heard a little bit but they're in the dark, aren't they Sergeant Barnes?"

"Yeah," he said slowly, exhaling some cigarette smoke as he did and eyeing Howlett. "Time for need to know, I guess." He looked at Raines. "You only know what you heard in the snug, right?"

Raines nodded. "Rose knows more. Rumlow doesn't. I'm guessing Bradley figured it out as he hasn't questioned anything."

Howlett stood up. "I'll go get them. Might as well get it over with as soon as we can otherwise, they'll be questioning everything."

Striding away towards the barracks, Howlett returned ten minutes later to all of the Howling Commandos standing together while Barnes tried to placate them. The Phantom Patrol soldiers sat uneasily, wanting to say something but cautioned by Barnes that it wasn't their place. Howlett called them all to attention, noticing that the Commandos were slow to obey, openly showing their distrust of Special Agent Grant.

"I have the rank of Major," said Grant. "Army CIC policy is not to use rank but I will if I have to." He looked with some exasperation at the men he worked with when he was Captain America the first time, not remembering them being this suspicious. "It's been suggested that there is something that connects Captain Rogers and myself together. You're right, there is but it's going to take some believing on your part." He stopped in front of Dum Dum. "You met Bucky Barnes at Grand Central when you bumped into him before you were transported to Wisconsin for basic. Your wife is Kathleen, a dark-haired beauty that you fell in love with when she came to the circus on the arm of another man while you were performing. She must have liked you because she married you less than a month later. You had three boys before you shipped out and got Kathleen in the family way before you left. Your daughter, Bridget, won't be a baby anymore when you get back, but she'll always be Daddy's little girl." Dum Dum started to talk but Grant shook his head, stopping at Jones. "You weren't supposed to be in the 107th but some jackass of a clerk marked your race as white. When you showed up with your travel orders at Grand Central Station, they weren't going to let you on until Bucky pointed out that would make you AWOL. He and Dum Dum convinced them to let you on the train and you three stayed close from then on. You met his friend Steve when you returned home for leave but never figured he would end up looking like Steve Rogers, Captain America, not even when he showed up at that factory in Austria and asked where Bucky was being kept." He waved Rogers forward and both men took their hats off, while Grant took his glasses off. "Imagine me with the same hair colour and twelve years younger."

"Holy Mary, Mother of God," said Dum Dum, after several moments peering at the two men, then crossing himself. "You're him. He's you. What the hell? Gabe, they're the same. You're not twins because of your different ages but what are you?"

"I was Steve Rogers," said Grant. "Until something happened and I ended up frozen in the Arctic for 70 years, just barely alive because of the serum. I woke up in 2011, just in time for something out of a nightmare, an invasion by a bunch of creatures from space. We beat them back and I became part of another team, one that fought the fight that needed fighting. I never really knew that HYDRA was still around until I fought someone who was turned by them into something he didn't want to be but had no choice in. I can't tell you more than that because telling you too much of the future can change it in ways that could be disastrous but I promised that I would come back in time, a one-way trip, and prevent HYDRA from ever getting their hands on him. So far, I've only been partly successful but the danger is still there because HYDRA is still there and I have no doubt if they don't have him, they'll find someone else to take his place. This mission together is the first, because we learned the Nazis went on with another super soldier experiment, one that Private Bradley tried to take care of by himself. We're going to finish the job together, then the Commandos will focus on the larger HYDRA bases while the Patrol will go after the smaller ones and the hidden labs. We're all going to find the people who have been forced to work for HYDRA and get them out of there. Everyone else who works while wearing the Octopus insignia is expendable."

"Why was it need to know?" asked Falsworth. "Were we not trusted to keep a secret?"

"Because I'm the man who HYDRA took," said Barnes, stepping forward. "You don't have to protect my identity, Steven. The more people that know, the less chance I'll end up back in HYDRA's clutches. They started the process of turning me into a super soldier. I know you've heard the rumours already that HYDRA let me go so that I could infiltrate this unit. Grant has been trying to protect me from those rumours but he forgets I hear a lot better these days. I'll never be the man I was before the war as I've already been changed. You all know it. Special Agent Grant gave up a life in the future to come back and keep me from becoming the Fist of HYDRA. I trust him with my life as much as I trust Steve Rogers because they're the same guy, just changed by what they went through before meeting in General Phillips tent in Italy. When you're ready to know more, he'll tell you. If he doesn't, then it's better you don't know, as simple as that."

What was said was more than what Steven Grant ever wanted to reveal but he was finding it more and more difficult not to tell people the truth. If they were going to work as a unit, trust was important. He thought back to how Tony had advance knowledge about the Sokovia Accords, actively helping to create them without input from the other Avengers. In his mind, Tony thought he was protecting what he saw as his family. That began the split in the team, but it was his own knowledge about Bucky killing Howard and Maria Stark that almost destroyed the team for good. Believing that by keeping that knowledge to himself, he was protecting both men, was his own moment of hubris. Ultimately, it hurt them in the fight against Thanos as they rushed to regroup to face that threat. Of that, Steven Grant was certain. When he looked up again all eyes were on him, and he made a decision.

"I'm not going to volunteer any future information, not if I can help it," he stated. "There are consequences to you learning about the future but if any of you ever feel like you're being kept in the dark I want you to tell me, directly to my face. We're going to be going behind enemy lines, taking the fight directly to HYDRA. Everyone has to trust the man beside him, as well as the man leading them. I want every one of you to come out of this alive and intact in mind and body. That is my pledge to you."

It seemed his words had some effect as they resumed their spots at the shooting range, loading their weapons, and firing at the targets with purpose. Both Howlett and Barnes nodded their approval, leaving him and Rogers to return to planning the joint mission. With the goal of blowing that German base up in ten days both leaders knew there was still so much to do.