Captain America

Arlington Cemetery

The pallbearers were all dressed in uniform. Not, however, the uniform of any branch of the United States Armed Service. Instead, their uniforms consisted of colorful outfits that clung to their bodies.

On one side of the casket stood Jim Hammond, the original Human Torch. Behind him was Prince Namor, the Sub-Mariner. And behind them was Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. On the other side of the casket stood Tony Stark clad in the red and gold armor of Iron Man. Behind him was Hank Pym, known at different times as Ant-Man, Giant-Man, Goliath and Yellowjacket. And following them stood Sam Wilson, clad in the red and white uniform of the Falcon.

Helicopters flew overhead, cameras were everywhere, as the casket holding the body of Steve Rogers was carried to its final resting place in Arlington Cemetery, where a statue of the Sentinel of Liberty stood. The six men set the casket down and stepped back. U.S. soldiers folded the American flag draped over the coffin and they presented it to Sharon Carter. Although Steve had no living relatives, Sharon was arguably the person he was closest to. It seemed only fitting she should receive the honor.

A twenty-one gun salute followed as Taps was played on the trumpet and the coffin, emblazoned with a white star on top, slowly lowered down into the freshly-dug grave. Josiah X, the current Captain America, stood silently and watched, dressed in his own version of the uniform and the familiar shield strapped to his back. By his side stood his father, Isaiah Bradley, his arm around Faith, his wife. The age difference in them was stark, with Bradley appearing to be in his early thirties and Faith in her eighties, thanks to the serum pumping through Bradley’s body.

Jim Hammond waved his hand and a new eternal flame, similar to the one for John F. Kennedy, was lit for his fallen comrade. He nodded to Sam Wilson, who stepped up to the podium that had been set up. Tony Stark had been asked to deliver the eulogy, but he turned it down, feeling that Sam was better suited for the role.

“When his country was in need, Steve Rogers answered the call. He was declared unfit for duty, due to his frail physicality. But that frail body held the soul of a patriot and a man who would do anything to protect this country. And when Steve was given the opportunity to serve his country as part of an experimental test procedure, he gladly volunteered. The experiment, as we all know, transformed his body into a physical force to be reckoned with.”

Sam paused for a moment.

“But that’s not what made him Captain America. Steve was Captain America long before he ever took that serum. It wasn’t those powers that made him the man so many of us looked to for leadership and guidance, it was his spirit. His indomitable will. Even when he was revived, decades after the end of World War II and became a man out of time, Steve never gave up. He saw that his country still needed him, still needed Captain America, and once more, he answered the call.

“We all watched Steve over the years, followed him into battle, obeyed as he commanded us. And all the while, we marveled at how easy he made it look. We were amazed at how this man could stand up to anyone who would threaten the ideals of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Whether power-mad dictators or omnipotent titans, Steve never faltered. He never let anyone see his fear.

“The world changed between the time of Steve’s disappearance and subsequent reawakening. But he didn’t let that get him down. He changed with the world, he still fought for his country. It didn’t matter that everyone he cared about had long since passed away, it didn’t matter that America had changed so much since the forties. He still answered the call, because he knew what was necessary.

“He was—is—a hero. And he will always remain an inspiration to us and to future generations of men and women who choose to sacrifice their own safety in order to protect the lives of the innocent.”

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO THE LIVING LEGEND?

Part II

By Dino Pollard

Josiah X moved through the crowd, hearing people talking about Steve. Most of them had simply chosen to share the stories they all knew. Stories of Captain America’s past battles and victories, how he stood up to Thanos, how he reacted to the new era he found himself in, or how he had beaten the Thing once in poker when Grimm thought he had a full pot all to himself.

A few conversations, Josiah overheard, centered on Steve’s death. Not only this one, but his past ones as well. How he had been presumed dead many times before yet always found a way to rise from the grave. Some suspected it would happen again.

He had no interest in any of that. For Josiah, whether or not Steve returned from the dead was immaterial. The fact was someone still killed Captain America. And he would ensure that he brought the killer to justice, by any means necessary.

And some, he could overhear, questioned the timeliness of Steve’s murder with his retirement. Had someone planned to take out Steve? Had someone convinced or coerced him into retirement? A few contenders were thrown about—Arnim Zola, Doctor Faustus, even the recently-defeated Red Skull.

Josiah moved his way to the exit. He’d had enough of mourning and old stories. Right now, he wanted to hit the streets and get some more information on who could have killed Steve Rogers.

Outside the restaurant, Josiah detected the strong scent of a Cuban cigar. He looked to the shadows where he saw a bright glowing ember in the darkness. As he approached, Nick Fury emerged, his SHIELD uniform covered by a brown trench coat.

“Ducking out, huh?”

“I somehow doubt Steve’s killer is going to come in on his own,” said Josiah.

“Don’t obsess over this,” said Fury. “Whoever’s responsible was good enough to not only get past the security in the brownstone, but also good enough to get the drop on Steve and then put a bullet in his head. That takes some impressive skills.”

“What are you saying, that I should let this guy get away with it?”

“No, I’m telling you to be smart. You’ve done a good job so far and you’ve got the experience necessary to hold that shield. But this is no cake walk.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” said Josiah. “I know what the risks are and I know what I’m going into.”

“Do you?” asked Fury. “What did you find out at the Raft?”

“Two confirmed escapees—Nuke and Half-Life. But I have reason to believe there’s a third they’re trying to cover up.”

“What reason would that be?”

“There was a giant hole in the ground, looked like something big punched its way out,” said Josiah. “And whoever did the springing was good enough to avoid detection.”

“Think it’s related?” asked Fury.

“Maybe, maybe not,” said Josiah. “But something funny’s going on. I checked their records on Nuke and apparently, he’d been completely docile since Steve brought him in. But more than that, something about Nuke just doesn’t feel right.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s just a feeling I’ve got.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t allow a mass murderer to go free based on your instincts.”

“I’m not saying that,” said Josiah. “But think about this, isn’t all convenient?”

Fury gritted his teeth around the cigar. “The man I respected the most is now lying in a grave. Care to tell me what’s convenient about that?”

“Think like an investigator and not like a friend,” said Josiah. “Nuke was recently dispatched by Control to kill Haywerth. Steve fought him and brought him in. Then, after Steve announces his retirement, he’s killed in his home and all evidence points to Nuke, who conveniently escaped very recently. Now we don’t know much about Control but we do know one thing—they’re too good and their reach spreads too far to give us such an obvious lead.”

“So who?” asked Fury.

“I don’t know, but it feels like someone is trying to lead us to Nuke. Maybe his escape was arranged as part of this or maybe it was just a convenient coincidence. Whatever the case, I don’t think he’s responsible.”

“Okay, then get to work.” Fury turned and began to walk away from Josiah. “I’ll be in touch.”

Josiah nodded, keeping a watchful eye over the old warhorse. He didn’t know much about this situation, but he was sure of two things—Nuke had no involvement and Fury knew more than he let on.

Fury stomped out the remains of the cigar before he climbed into the driver’s side of the 1968 390 CID Ford Mustang. Once there, he hit a button on the radio and it flipped around, revealing a monitor. “Code 144-083. Dial Operative B-2.”

[ One moment please. ]

A garbled voice came on the line. “Still there?”

“Just about to leave,” said Fury. “Although you should be advised, X smells something fishy.”

“Suppose Rogers was a good judge of character then.”

“More than you’ll probably ever know,” said Fury. “Stay on your toes, there’s no telling how this will play out.”

“Acknowledged. Over and out.”

[ Call ended. ]

Fury reached into his trench coat and drew a fresh cigar, lighting it with a wood match. As he began to puff on the end, helping the cigar to catch the flame, the computer came to life once more.

[ Be advised, two recent departures from the restaurant. ]

“Who would they be?” asked Fury.

[ Agent 13 and Wilson, Samuel. ]

“Carter and the Falcon, wonder what’s up with that…” he muttered. “Computer, put a trace on Agent 13’s SHIELD credentials as well as Wilson’s Avengers identicard.”

[ Confirmed. Trace activated. ]

“Nick, you rotten old bastard, just what the hell have you gotten yourself into?” he asked himself.

[ Query not recognized. ]

“Shut up.”

Commission on Superhuman Activities

Henry Peter Gyrich sat mulling over the paperwork his contact at Control had given him. All the information they gave him on Weapon Plus, Weapon X and Nuke seemed to be completely irrelevant to the death of Steve Rogers. He found he couldn’t make sense of any of it.

If Weapon X was behind Rogers’ death, what was the motive? It seemed like such a brash and public move just to taunt their former superiors. Control seemed distracted at the moment, especially with Zemo’s moves and the recent activity with the Avengers. And this theory regarding Rogers seemed like it was just spitballed out there.

“Gyrich.”

He jumped at the sound of his own name and turned, expecting the baritone voice to belong to one of Control’s agents. Instead, he saw the new Captain America standing in the corner of the room near the open window.

“That’s not something Rogers ever did,” said Gyrich.

“I worked black ops in Vietnam, I know how to get into places where I’m not supposed to be,” said Captain America.

“What do you want, Bradley?”

“I want to know who killed Steve Rogers. And I want to know why a guilty man is being made the target for a crime he never committed.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re in the loop on this, Gyrich, so don’t play dumb.” Captain America walked around the front of Gyrich’s desk and placed his palms on the surface, leaning over it and fixing his gaze on the head of the CSA. “Why is Nuke being fingered for this when we both know he didn’t do it?”

“What do you mean? How would you know that he didn’t?” asked Gyrich. “For Christ’s sake, Rogers was the one who brought Nuke in last time.”

“Nuke’s just a weapon, he wouldn’t go after Steve for revenge,” said Captain America. “Now, are you going to start telling me the truth? Or do I have to start producing the photographs of you getting into strange limousines?”

“What are you—”

“I’ve spent the better part of the past five years defending Little Mogadishu and keeping the violence from getting out of control. The people there are my eyes and ears all over this city. You think I’m stupid enough to believe you’d trust me completely just because I threw you a bone about CSA missions?”

Gyrich sighed. “You’re one crafty bastard, aren’t you?”

“So how about it?” asked Captain America. “What are you going to tell me?”

“You’re right, Control isn’t involved,” said Gyrich. “In fact, they’re just as pissed about Rogers as anyone but for different reasons. When he was still alive, it cast doubt on you as the new Cap. But now that he’s dead and he’s named you his successor, you’re legitimate. They were going to try to destroy you by fanning the flames of intolerance. A little difficult to do now.”

“And Nuke?”

“Broken out, that’s true, but not by Control,” said Gyrich. “If they wanted to get him out for a job like this, they would have done it quietly and then sent him back once it was over. Nuke was sprung by someone else.”

“What does Control think?” asked Captain America.

“They suspect an organization basically taunting them, but that doesn’t fit, either. There’s someone else involved and who it is, I have no idea.”

“And that’s all you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” said Captain America. He went back to the window. “And Gyrich?”

“What?”

“You’re now my eyes and ears inside Control,” he said. “You blow this or you turn on me and you’ll discover first-hand just how different a Captain America I am from Steve Rogers.”

The blindfold came off the eyes of Phineas Mason and he found himself sitting under a hot lamp, the only light in the otherwise dark room. His hands and legs were bound by heavy restraints as he sat in the chair and he could make out two figures in the darkness.

One of them, lithe and feminine, produced a gun and placed it against his temple. “One question, do you want to live?”

“What’s the meaning of this?” asked Mason.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Okay, fine!” he shouted. “Now what’s this all about?”

“You’re going to tell me who killed Steve Rogers.”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Come on, Tinkerer, don’t insult our intelligence.” The man spoke now, stepping into the light, his red and white outfit unmistakable, even with the wings retracted.

“Falcon,” said the Tinkerer. “Who’s your friend?”

“Sharon Carter, Agent of SHIELD,” said the woman with the gun. “And lucky for me, SHIELD doesn’t have to abide by miranda rights or Geneva Conventions or any of that crap. So why don’t you tell us what we want to know?”

“What makes you think I had anything to do with this?”

“When someone needs the technology to get into places they can’t, who else to come to but the Tinkerer?” asked the Falcon.

“I had nothing to do with it, but I could probably help you find out,” said the Tinkerer. “I just need to examine the system first, then I can tell you how breakable it is.”

“Fine,” said Sharon. She stepped back into the darkness and a moment later, the entire room lighted up. The Tinkerer found himself sitting in the middle of the brownstone that Steve Rogers had recently occupied.

“You…” He looked up at the Falcon. “You knew all along I had nothing to do with this, right?”

The Falcon smiled. “Just needed your help, Mason. Now get to work or I’ll sic Carter on you again.”

 

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