Kiev

He noticed her just outside the baggage claim area. Long, red hair pulled back in a tail and a stunning body with incredible curves. Mikhail hoped if he nabbed this one, he might be able to arrange for one night with her. He’d been one of the best spotters for his organization and even Baranski himself had congratulated him on all the fine product he’d brought in.

The woman was struggling with her luggage cart, seemed almost too heavy for her to push. One of her bags fell over and he made his move. He ran up to her, calling out to her in English.

“Excuse me, do you need help?”

“Oh, you speak English?” she asked.

“Not very well,” said Mikhail with a sheepish smile. Perfected over years of practice. “May I help?”

“Please,” she said.

Mikhail knelt down and picked up her suitcase, putting it back on the cart. He took the handlebar and pushed it himself. “Your accent…American?”

“Yeah, I came here to visit some family,” she said. “My grandmother is really sick so I took some time off work to come here and help out.”

“That’s nice,” he said. “I’m Mikhail.”

She smiled. “Natalie.”

“So your family is from Ukraine?”

“Originally, my mom moved to the States for college and met my dad there.”

“Where in America are you from?”

“New York.”

“Oh New York? I love Liberty Statue.”

“Statue of Liberty, actually,” said Natalie with a bit of a giggle.

“Do you have someone picking you up?”

“No, I was just going to get a taxi.”

“Taxi can be very expensive, would you like to share?”

“Umm…sure,” she said.

Mikhail held out his hand and signaled for a taxi. He helped load Natalie’s luggage into the trunk and they both slid into the backseat. The man began speaking to them and asking where they wanted to go. Natalie handed Mikhail the address and he said something in Ukranian to the driver. He nodded and shifted into gear. The cab pulled away from the airport.

Within the hour, Natalie had a feeling something was wrong. The area they headed into was like nothing she recalled from her last trip out here. Her gaze was fixed on the dilapidated buildings they drove past. “Are you sure this is the right way, Mikhail?”

Before she had a chance to turn around, Mikhail had knocked her out, slamming the butt of a handgun against her skull. Natalie slumped forward against the door and Mikhail looked up at the driver, who had shown not even the slightest bit of surprise.

“Let’s go,” he said in Ukranian.

THE AMERICAN NIGHTMARE

Part III

By Dino Pollard

When Natalie awoke, she found herself in a small room with at least eight other young women. They were all still passed out. She did a quick check of her body and found her pockets were empty—no cell phone, no wallet, no passport, nothing. But the search wasn’t extensive, at least not at this point. The small comm-link resting in her ear was still in place.

“How long was I out?” she said in a whisper, her voice now carrying a Russian accent.

“About four hours since I saw you get in the cab.” The baritone voice echoing in her ear belonged to Captain America. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll have a bump on my head but other than that, I’m fine. Is the GPS transmitting?”

“Perfectly clear. I should be there momentarily.”

The Black Widow looked around the room at the other women gathered. “I hope you rented a van—we’re going to need it.”

“Watch your back, Widow. While you were resting, I’ve been digging into this Baranski guy Fury mentioned. Looks like he’s a real bastard.”

“Remember to maintain a certain degree of tact, Captain,” said the Black Widow. “If we spook Baranski and he gets away, it may be difficult to find him again.”

“Relax Natasha, I was working black ops when you were still in pigtails.”

“I know you’re capable, I just don’t like feeling useless.”

“If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have a location. You’ve done your part, now it’s time for me to do mine. I should be there soon, so maintain radio silence until further notice.”

“Roger, Widow out.” The line went dead after that. Natasha Romanova would give anything to have her bracelets on her right now. Her wrists felt almost naked without them, especially in such a precarious position.

Once Josiah killed his communication with the Black Widow, he leaned back against the leather seats of the limousine. Although they were more comfortable than most beds, Josiah didn’t even notice. His body was tense, adrenaline pumping through his body. The entire situation made his blood boil, but he closed his eyes and went through some simple breathing exercises he picked up in his travels. Relaxation techniques to keep him in control.

He had to remain calm. Couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. That way had led to mistakes in the field before, mistakes he wouldn’t make again. More than that, Fury was right—Josiah had to stand for something better. He could bend the rules a bit but breaking them was absolutely out of the question.

No matter how tempted he might be.

He checked his tie to ensure it was straight. An expensive Italian suit helped cement the ruse that Josiah was a businessman on a layover and off looking for a good time tonight. Ever since the fall of the Iron Curtain, money was the skeleton key that unlocked any door.

The limousine came to a stop. The driver walked around to the back and opened the door. Josiah stepped out and slipped him some money. Also included in that was a note informing the driver that if he hung around and waited, he’d receive double the rental fee.

Josiah adjusted the glasses he wore. Non-prescription lenses, but they helped give him an additional air of sophistication. While on a job like this, Josiah was well aware that image meant everything. There was a line of men outside the door but Josiah walked right up to the large, bald man who stood guard.

“Do you have an invitation, sir?” he asked.

“I believe I do,” said Josiah, reaching inside his breast pocket and taking out a roll of bills. He took four of them from the roll and handed them to the guard. “See if there’s anything for the Franklin family.”

The guard took the hundreds and placed them in his jacket. He nodded to the other guard, who stepped to the side and allowed Josiah to enter the building and followed him in. Josiah turned to him and the man walked ahead. “Please follow.”

They walked down a long corridor with a red carpeted floor. The guard turned a corner and knocked five times in a specific pattern on one of the oak doors. It opened and the guard entered. Josiah followed but once he entered the room, the door was slammed and two other large guards grabbed his arms.

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

“This is a very exclusive establishment with a very exclusive clientele.”

The voice came from the darkness in the room. A man slowly walked out, tall and slim with a receding hairline. “We don’t allow just anyone in here. So when an American I have never seen shows up and starts waving money around, I don’t think I’m out of line in assuming this man is out of place.”

“Viktor Baranski?” asked Josiah.

The slim man’s eyebrow raised slightly. “Should that name mean something to me?”

“I have a message for him, from Burian Pavelko.”

“And what message would that be?”

Josiah’s lips curled into a smile. “He ratted you out, Viktor.”

“I see,” said Baranski. “And what, exactly, do you think Pavelko knew?”

“What I do know is I shut down his operation in New York. And now I’m coming after you.”

Baranski smiled. “I’m sorry, is this the part where I’m supposed to start shaking? You are outnumbered and currently incapacitated.” He turned his back to Josiah. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you to be much of a threat.”

Josiah feigned a struggle against the two guards, but in reality, he was trying to build to enough of a crouch to spring to the side, throwing all his weight into the guard on the left. They both toppled to the ground while the one on the right had released his grip in surprise. Josiah elbowed the guard’s head into the floor.

The second one came at him but Josiah threw his weight to his hands and pushed his legs out in a mule kick which connected with his assailant. Josiah removed his jacket and lunged at the guard, wrapping it around his head. Using the guard’s distraction and lack of sight to his advantage, Josiah drove several punches against his head until he collapsed.

Josiah narrowed his eyes as he stared at Baranski and the two guards who flanked him. “Now it’s only three against one and something tells me you’re not much of a fighter, Viktor.”

“I don’t have to be.” Baranski raised his hand in a signal. His guards drew uzis and opened fire.

Josiah ducked and rolled, trying to avoid the bullets as best he could. His shield would be really helpful now, but he knew that wasn’t an option. He dove low, tackling the legs of one gunman and quickly disarming him. He used the man’s weapon as a blunt instrument and left him unconscious.

The other one was still firing however, and Baranski joined in, drawing his own handgun. Josiah moved as fast as he could, dodging the bullets. Before he became Captain America, his time spent as a mercenary and a soldier had given him ample opportunity to practice gunfire evasion. Although he had to admit, the shield did make it a lot easier.

Josiah slid across a table and pulled it down with him, using it for cover. He waited for his moment and when it came, quickly poked his head out and returned fire with the gun he stole. He was trying to keep this job as bloodless as possible, but they sure weren’t making it easy on him.

In his head, he had kept count of the rounds. And within a few moments, he heard the click of the uzi. It would take the guard a few seconds at least to reload and that was all the time Josiah needed. He sprung up and kicked the table towards Baranski and his man. They were momentarily shocked and Josiah jumped into the air, firing his weapon in a wide arc, purposely missing them. It was more the distraction he needed the gun for than anything else.

He twisted in midair and his foot connected with the guard’s jaw. Once he landed, the guard tried to counter with a punch, but Josiah blocked and elbowed the guard in the neck. Baranski tried to come up behind him, but just as he was about to, Josiah turned and had the uzi pointed right at the slaver’s chest.

Baranski offered a nervous chuckle paired with an awkward smile. “Now, now, we were just having fun, yes? We had to test you, make sure you were good enough to be in here, didn’t we?”

“Do I look like I’m having fun, Viktor?”

“This is just how we say hello in Kiev!”

“Oh really? Then you don’t even wanna know how we say hello in Little Mogadishu,” said Josiah. “I know what’s going on here, Viktor. I know all about your little slave operation. And I’m here to stop it.”

“My friend, you know nothing,” said Baranski. “This is bigger than you think. If you eliminate me, someone else will take my place by tomorrow. Might even be someone worse.”

“Maybe that’s a risk I’m willing to take,” said Josiah.

“Why don’t we instead make a deal?” asked Baranski. “If you kill me, this operation stays in place. If you let me live but close it down, my bosses kill me and replace me. But if you take me into protective custody…”

“And what makes you think I have any authority like that?”

“I am no idiot, I know what happened in New York. The new black Captain America closed it down. And now here you are, a man who is very strong, fast and able to defeat five men single-handedly. Only a moron would come into a place like this unarmed with the intention of shutting it down. Either that, or a Super Soldier.”

“Say I do take you into protective custody, Baranski—what then?” asked Josiah. “How do I know you won’t go back on your word?”

“Because I have no ch—ACK!”

Baranski’s body stiffened and then quickly went limp. Josiah caught Baranski as he slumped over and then saw a throwing knife embedded in the back of the man’s neck. Josiah laid the man’s body on the ground and his eyes scanned the area.

“We’ve been expecting you, Captain.”

A figure dropped from the ceiling into the middle of the room. He slowly rose up, dressed in black leather. Various weapons were strapped to his body and his mask had green lenses for the eyepieces which seemed to glow.

“I’ve been particularly looking forward to this meeting.” He held a sai in each hand. “Curious to see how you measure up to the original.”

“And who are you?” asked Josiah.

“Zaran, the Weapons Master.”

“You said you were expecting me. Why?”

“Sources in the State Department informed my employer that you were considering a trip to Kiev. I was brought in as some additional insurance just in case that came to pass.”

“So what are you waiting for?” asked Josiah, moving into a combat stance. “I’m right here, asshole.”

Natasha remained on the ground, her eyes shut as she heard the door to the room open. She allowed one of her eyelids to rise just enough to get a glimpse of the new arrival. One of the guards, but he didn’t have any new girls with him. Maybe he was coming to escort some or all of them out of here.

Or maybe he was coming to “sample the merchandise.”

Such a thought chilled her blood. Since the fall of the Iron Curtain, many former Soviet Bloc nations have become breeding grounds for human trafficking—a despicable form of capitalism. When there’s money to be made, for some it doesn’t matter how it’s done.

She shut her eyes again, feigning unconsciousness. His footsteps grew louder and she could sense his form passing over her, lingering for a moment. Greasy hands gripped her chin and against every instinct, she kept her body limp. Allowing him to examine her facial features.

He passed over her, moving to the next girl. Natasha slowly cracked an eye and saw his back was to her now. He was bent over, examining another girl who was still unconscious. Natasha leaned back on her elbows and sprung forward, her feet connecting with the man’s rear.

He stumbled forward, bumping his head against the wall. He turned, his face contorted with anger. He advanced on her and the Black Widow leapt to her feet, executing a perfect roundhouse kick to his jaw. The man mumbled something in Ukranian and lunged forward with a right hook.

Clumsy. Slow. The Black Widow easily ducked the attack and grabbed his shoulder, using the momentum to slam him against the wall. She braced her arm against his back, holding him in place as she raised his leather jacket. In the waistband of his jeans was a handgun and she drew it, pushing it against his skull.

“Baranski. Where is he?” she asked in his native language.

“Fuck you, whore!”

“Wrong answer.”

She raised the gun to the ceiling and fired. Then pushed it against the back of his neck. He gritted out a sound of pain at the feel of the hot metal against his bare skin.

“Where is Baranski?”

“I’ll tell you nothing!”

Natasha moved the barrel to his shoulder and fired again. “I’m a professional, my friend. I know who you work for and I know multiple places to shoot you without killing you or causing you to pass out. I can make this a very painful ordeal for you if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

Captain America maneuvered his body free of Zaran’s sai jab. He grabbed the assassin’s arm and threw his knee into Zaran’s abdomen. Zaran brought his other sai at Captain America, who quickly crouched. Josiah pushed up on his legs, wrapping his massive arms around Zaran and taking him to the ground in a tackle.

Josiah flipped off but barely had a moment to get his bearings before Zaran was back on his feet as well, unleashing a flurry of shuriken. Captain America managed to dodge most of them but had to take a few of them in his arm while protecting the rest of his body.

The banter remained at a minimum, neither man having even the slightest interest in a single word the other had to say. Zaran came at Captain America again, drawing a pair of truncheon sticks from the holsters on his thighs. Josiah had only his arms to defend himself against a man who had posed a challenge not only to Steve but also Shang-Chi, the Master of Kung Fu.

Zaran swung each of the truncheons, and Josiah blocked them both. But wasn’t quick enough to counter or defend himself against Zaran’s kick to the knee that caused Captain America to stumble just for a split second. But that instant was all Zaran needed to slam both truncheons against the sides of Josiah’s head.

His ears rang and he could feel blood trickling out from them. Zaran raised to strike another blow, but a gunshot rang out and he dropped the truncheon. Turning, he saw the Black Widow standing in the doorway. Zaran grinned, his movements almost too fast for the eye to see. A flash of metal and one of his throwing knives was lodged in the gun’s barrel just as Natasha pulled the trigger. She tossed the gun away at the last instant to avoid the brunt of the damage from the backfire.

Drawing a sickle, Zaran came at the Black Widow, whose nimble movements kept her free from his range for the most part. She was faster than Zaran but when it came to fighting styles, the Weapons Master definitely had the advantage. The Widow had to concentrate on diversion and avoidance. As Zaran brought the sickle in a wide arc, the Black Widow threw up her leg in a kick, pinning his wrist against the wall. She jumped and spun, her other leg whipping in the air and snapping across Zaran’s head.

Zaran was on the knees but just briefly. He drew a pair of combat knives next but before he could use them, his body was thrown forward. When he stood again, Captain America was back on his feet, wielding the discarded truncheons. Except now he had assembled them into a staff.

The Weapons Master now found himself on the defensive, struggling to guard himself against both Captain America’s quarterstaff and the Black Widow’s furious kicks. As he crossed his arms over his head to block a kick from the Black Widow, Captain America knocked his legs out from under him with the quarterstaff. Zaran fell hard on his back and Captain America placed a foot on his chest and pushed the staff up against his Adam’s apple.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you. At this range, it wouldn’t take much force to crush your windpipe,” he said. “Why did you kill Baranski?”

“He was just a middle-man, another in a long line,” said Zaran.

“So who are you working for?” asked the Black Widow.

Zaran chuckled. “The only thing you’ll learn from me is that my employer is far outside your reach.”

“Fine,” said Captain America. He raised the staff and slammed it hard against Zaran’s forehead, knocking him unconscious. “Then you’re not much good to us now.”

SHIELD Helicarrier

Josiah sat in Fury’s office, watching footage on the monitor of Captain America sparring with Nightcrawler on Avengers Island. Natasha sat next to him and once the footage ended, Nick Fury himself shut off the monitor.

“That handles your alibi,” said Fury. “Far as anyone is concerned, Captain America was venting his frustrations over this whole mess on Avengers Island. Only person who can refute that story is Zaran and no one’s gonna trust a mass-murdering psychopath over video surveillance.”

“Who did you find to stand in?” asked Josiah. “Sam’s much leaner than me and you’d need someone who can manage that shield.”

“Lemar Hoskins, Battlestar. He’s on Jack Walker’s team so he’s got the necessary skill set,” said Fury. “Had some downtime between missions and he was happy to lend a hand.”

“Do we have any leads on who Zaran and Baranski were working for?” asked Natasha.

Fury shook his head. “Zaran’s not talkin’, he’s one tough nut. Not sure if we’ll be able to crack him.”

“And the operation?”

“It’s been shut down…at least at that location. But these bastards are like cockroaches. Can’t get rid of them that easy,” said Fury. “As long as human life is cheap, we’re facing a locust swarm with a fly-swatter.”

Kronas Corporation

Aleksander Lukin, the CEO of the Kronas Corporation, sat in his office reviewing the footage of the battle between Zaran and Captain America. He leaned against the high-backed leather chair, clasping his fingertips together.

“Now you understand the problem we’re up against, Mr. Lukin. Rogers was a dinosaur, he could be contained. But Bradley’s a different sort of animal. He’ll pose a challenge to our operations. As you can see, he’s already manage to pose a threat to one of your…less savory operations.”

“I see that,” said Lukin. “I want to review everything you have on Operation: Rebirth.”

NEXT: Elements of Control