Avengers Island

Josiah X stood on the small airstrip for the island. In the distance, he saw a flying convertible come closer. It paused above the strip, hovering there before slowly lowering to the ground, its wheels pivoting from a horizontal to a more natural vertical position. The blond woman who sat in the driver’s seat turned off the vehicle and stepped out.

“Thanks for coming, Sharon,” he said.

“Is there a reason we couldn’t meet somewhere in New York?” asked Sharon Carter.

“Avengers Island is sovereign territory.”

“Why so concerned about sovereign ground?”

“Do you have the information I asked for?” asked Josiah, ignoring her question. Something Sharon did not fail to notice.

“I do,” she said, drawing a smartphone from a pouch on her belt. “Why do you want information on them? They’ve been arrested, they’re going to be convicted based on what was found in that place.”

“Tell me.”

“The mother is Akalena Kurylo, her sons are Niko and Dmitri. All three are from the Ukraine,” said Sharon. “They came to New York three years ago for work.”

“What kind of work?”

“Akalena’s brother owns a restaurant, they came to work for him.”

“The brother’s name?”

“Burian Pavelko.”

“Good,” said Josiah. “You have an address for this restaurant of his?”

“It doesn’t matter, the police have cleared him. He said he was shocked to discover that his sister was involved with this.”

“Sharon…”

“You think he’s involved, don’t you?” asked Sharon.

“Gyrich told me to stay away from this case, said the Kurylos have powerful friends and that this could possibly cause an international incident,” said Josiah. “But Anna and those other women, they’re being deported. Why haven’t they been granted T-1 visas?”

“Apparently, they refused to testify,” said Sharon.

“That means they’re afraid of someone else, someone the Kurylos are probably working for. I’ve seen how these types of organizations work, the Kurylos are just one link in a chain,” said Josiah.

“And you think Pavelko is another link.”

“Seems logical. He was able to get them here with minimal trouble, which means he probably has some connections of his own,” said Josiah.

“Russian mob?”

Josiah nodded. “Give me his address. I need to pay him a visit.”

THE AMERICAN NIGHTMARE

Part II

By Dino Pollard

Josiah entered the Ukrainian restaurant owned by Pavelko. There was a bar in the back which he went to, taking a seat at the counter. The bartender was a burly guy, tattoos up and down his arms. Looked to be in his thirties with a thick beard and a shaved head.

Josiah himself wore a zipped-up leather jacket and jeans. His eyes were hidden behind round sunglasses and he wore a beanie on his head. The bartender eyed him carefully as he moved over.

“Don’t see many blacks in here,” said the bartender.

“Just passing through,” said Josiah.

“Drink?”

“Just water.”

The bartender scoffed. “Why come into a bar for water?”

“I was just riding through on my bike, got a little dry mouth, wanted a glass of water,” said Josiah.

“You can’t stay unless you buy something.”

Josiah reached into his jacket and pulled out his wallet. He drew a five dollar bill and set it on the counter. “Is that good enough for water?”

The bartender filled up a glass with tap water and set it on the counter, then grabbed the bill and deposited it in the register. Josiah sipped his drink and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the dark-haired woman staring at him. In a few minutes, she moved to the stool next to him.

“You look tense,” she said.

“Long day.”

“I can help you relax,” said the woman, setting her hand on his thigh. “I think I know what you’re looking for…”

“I doubt that,” said Josiah.

She leaned in closer to him. “Try me.”

Josiah turned his head and lowered his glasses, locking her eyes with his own. “Burian Pavelko.”

The woman pulled her hand away and looked at the bartender. He seemed a bit upset and came over to Josiah. “What did you say?”

“Burian Pavelko,” he repeated. “That’s who I’m looking for. Do you know him?”

“This is Mr. Pavelko’s business,” said the bartender.

“Then I’d like to meet him, thank him for this excellent service.”

“Mr. Pavelko does not do business with your kind.”

Josiah looked at the bartender. “Say that to my face.”

The bartender moved in closer, his face mere inches from Josiah’s. “I said—”

Josiah grabbed the bartender’s head and slammed it on the counter. The woman screamed and moved away. The bartender threw a punch and Josiah grabbed his fist, then twisted the man’s arm behind his back. He threw him forward into the arrangement of liquor bottles behind the bar. He looked up at the woman.

“Get out of here.”

The woman nodded and ran from the place. Josiah jumped over the counter as the bartender reached for something underneath. When he spun around, he had a shotgun aimed.

“Think you’re funny?” asked the bartender.

Josiah looked at the counter. Where the woman had originally been sitting, there was a plate with some unfinished food on it. He lunged for the plate and threw it. The plate shattered against the bartender’s head and Josiah was on him, wrenching the gun away. He kept his grip on the barrel, slamming the hilt against the bartender’s head. Josiah knelt down and grabbed the man by the collar.

“Where’s Pavelko?”

Burian Pavelko looked up at the sound of the door being slammed open. The other four men at the poker table also looked up, turning their heads to see the bartender walking in.

“Someone to see you, Mr. Pavelko,” he said.

Josiah came in behind the bartender, holding the shotgun at the ready. When some of the men at the table began to stand, Josiah cocked it as a warning. “Don’t eventhink about moving.”

“Who are you?” asked Pavelko.

“I’d like to arrange a private meeting with you, Burian. My name’s Josiah X.”

“That name means nothing to me,” said Pavelko.

Josiah used one hand to unzip his jacket. Beneath it was the red, white and blue chain mail shirt with the white star emblazoned on the chest. Each of the men looked at Pavelko in shock.

“How about that meeting?” asked Josiah.

Pavelko motioned for the men to leave the room. Josiah allowed them to pass by, but he kept the shotgun on Pavelko. The man behind the table reached for a bottle of vodka and took a swig from it before offering it to Josiah.

“No thanks.”

“Tell me, what does Captain America want with me?” asked Pavelko. “I am just a poor immigrant trying to live the American dream.”

“We both know that’s not true, Burian,” said Josiah. “Remember what happened to your sister and nephews?”

“Yes, that was you. Such a horrible situation. I had no idea my sister was capable of such inhumanity.”

“You’ve done pretty well for yourself in America, haven’t you?” asked Josiah. “In fact, this little shithole of a restaurant has turned over incredible profit for you. Enough for you to buy plane tickets for your family. The house they were running that brothel out of? It’s in your name. You also own this restaurant as well as your own house. Probably some other property as well, held in different names. And their visa applications were processed with incredible speed.”

Pavelko shrugged. “I am just lucky.”

“Those women, they refused to testify against the Kurylos. As a result, they were deported back to their home countries.”

“Very strange. Very unfortunate.”

“I’m guessing they refused to testify because they were afraid of someone. Someone other than the Kurylos,” said Josiah. “Just a link in the chain, right?”

“Is that one of your American metaphors?” asked Pavelko with a smile.

Josiah lunged forward and slammed the hilt against Pavelko’s head, knocking him out cold.

When Pavelko came to, he realized he was being suspended by his arms, naked. He tried to pull his hands free, but they were chained. He was hanging in the restaurant’s walk-in freezer, suspended like a slab of meat.

“It’s about time.”

He looked over and saw Josiah sitting on a crate of food, sipping a cup of coffee. “I was starting to get cold waiting for you to wake up.”

“You can’t do this to me, I am an American citizen!” shouted Pavelko.

“Yes you are,” said Josiah. “And I’m sure your Russian mob connections bought you that honor as well.”

“You are insane!” said Pavelko. “This is torture!”

“Is it?” asked Josiah. “I haven’t even touched you yet, Burian. Besides, what those women went through, don’t you think that was torture? Nightly beatings, rapes, getting them hooked on drugs? That’s not torture?”

“P-puh-please, so cold…”

Josiah punched Pavelko, rocking him like a punching bag. He grabbed Pavelko by the throat and began to squeeze. “At least the outside matches the inside, you bastard.”

“You can’t do this!” said Pavelko. “You are a superhero! You are Captain America!”

“Am I?” asked Josiah. He took off his jacket and dropped it on the floor. Then he shed the chain mail shirt, letting it fall with a clinging noise. “Guess what, Burian? Tonight, I’m not a symbol. Tonight, I’m not Captain America. Tonight, I’m just a man. A man who is completely disgusted with you and is going to beat you within an inch of your life. And then, I’m going to beat you some more.”

“Please no…you can’t do thi—UGH!”

Another punch, this time to Pavelko’s gut.

“Burian, do you know how long it takes to beat a man to death with your bare hands?” asked Josiah. Pavelko shook his head and Josiah kneed him in the crotch. He then threw two more punches at Pavelko’s face. “Even with a Super Soldier Serum, I’ll tell you—it takes a damn long time.”

He punched Pavelko again, squarely in the nose and it cracked.

“Interesting thing about that Super Soldier Serum, it makes me pretty strong,” said Josiah. “In fact, if I’m not holding back, I imagine every punch hits like a hammer. Is that what you’d say?”

“No more, please no more… You can’t do this!”

“I already am,” said Josiah. “In fact, I’m sure by the time I’m done with you, you’ll probably look like hamburger meat.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” asked Pavelko.

“Because you treated those women like cattle, that’s why,” said Josiah. “And slavery? It’s something of a sore spot for me.” He elbowed Pavelko in the chest. “So I thought I’d make it a sore spot for you as well.”

The freezer door suddenly opened. Josiah turned, prepared to fight off whoever it was and relaxed when he saw the man who stood there. Josiah slowly walked away from Pavelko towards the new arrival. “Nick, what are you doing here?”

Fury stepped inside, removing the ever-present cigar from his mouth. Like Josiah, he had been dressed in civilian clothes. Fury’s eye went to the chain mail shirt on the floor and then to the naked Ukrainian man suspended in the large freezer.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “I had a little chat with Sharon. She was worried about what you might do. Looks like she was right to be worried. This isn’t the kind of thing Captain America should be doing.”

“That’s not who I am, not tonight,” said Josiah.

“Oh, it’s that easy, is it?” asked Fury. “Think you can just take off that uniform any time you wanna get your hands bloody and then just take a quick shower and put it back on? Don’t work that way, son and you know it.”

Josiah lowered his head. “You know what has to be done, Fury. You know what this…thing is.”

“That may be so, but that don’t make it your job. You need to stand for something better. That’s why Steve picked you. And because Steve is the best judge of character I ever knew, that’s why I backed his decision.” Fury picked up the shirt and shoved it into Josiah’s hands, his voice beginning to grow louder with his next words. “And if I ever see you desecrate his memory or his uniform like this again, then so help me, I’ll kick the ever-lovin’ shit outta you myself! Do you understand me, boy?”

Josiah took the shirt and nodded.

“Good. Now get the hell out of here before you really piss me off!”

Josiah grabbed his jacket and left the freezer. Fury waited for him to leave and slowly smoked his cigar. Pavelko watched, and began to smile. “Th-thank you, you are a great ma—”

Fury drew a pistol from the shoulder holster concealed beneath his jacket and put a bullet in Pavelko’s stomach. As Pavelko cried out in pain, Fury walked to the freezer door and closed it.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me, Burian.” Fury removed the cigar from his mouth and came right up to Pavelko. He firmly pushed the lit end of the cigar against Pavelko’s chest. “Because you’d be a lot better off if he were still in this room with you. Instead, now you’ve got me.”

“B-but you said…”

“I said he needs to stand for something better,” said Fury. “But guess what, you vodka-swilling, Stalin-lovin’, piece of subhuman garbage? I don’t have to stand for jack shit. Now you’re going to tell me everything you know, or you’re going to discover everything I’ve learned after half a century of working in counter-intelligence.”

Fury exited the restaurant, drying his hands on a towel. Josiah sat on his bike waiting, watching the spy with curiosity. “You were in there for over an hour. Why were you just drying your hands?”

“Like you said, I was in there for over an hour,” said Fury. “Had to clean up.”

“Where’s Pavelko?”

“He didn’t make it. Died resisting arrest.”

“Did he have anything to say before he died?” asked Josiah.

“Nothing important,” said Fury.

“So what now?”

“Now, I think you should take a vacation,” said Fury. “I hear the Ukraine is nice this time of year.”

“Is it?”

“Yup. If you head out there, look up an old buddy of mine by the name of Baranski.”

At the airport, Josiah had been flagged by security. Given his name, this had become something of a regular experience, but he suspected this time it was something different. He was escorted into a private room and inside stood a man in a dark suit with red hair and glasses.

“You’re crossing the line, Bradley,” said Gyrich. “And worse, you’re tying my hands. The State Department has restricted your travel.”

“They can’t do that,” said Josiah. “I’m—”

“A diplomat because of your Avengers credentials, I know,” said Gyrich. “But you’re also an American citizen and the Ukrainian government has refused to allow you into their borders. They say the Avengers have no diplomatic relations with their country and they see no reason nor have they received any request for your presence.”

The door opened again and this time two SHIELD agents entered with another woman who had long, red hair and dressed in business attire. When she spoke, there was a distinct Russian accent. “Mr. Gyrich, thank you for your cooperation here. I’ve been asked by Colonel Fury to escort the Captain back to the Helicarrier for briefing.”

Gyrich smirked a little. “Is that so, Agent?”

“It is.”

“The CSA will, of course, completely comply with SHIELD,” said Gyrich. “Have a good day, Bradley. Sorry about your travel plans.”

Gyrich left the room. The Russian woman looked at Josiah. “We have a plane waiting.”

“To take me to the Helicarrier?”

“Yes, and after that I’m taking the plane on a leave of absence. You see, I have family in the Ukraine I would like to visit,” she said. “My name is Natasha Romanova. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain America.”

Josiah smirked. “Likewise, Black Widow.”