Todd Keller was led into the office of Edmund Heidler, the CEO of the Vulpine media group. Heidler had appeared virtually out of nowhere about a decade ago, but he was nonetheless able to make Vulpine one of the most profitable companies, owning numerous newspapers, magazines, TV networks, and a movie studio. He himself was a somewhat unassuming man, with short, black hair and beady eyes. When he saw Keller enter, he stood from behind his desk and smiled, offering his hand. Keller approached the desk and shook his boss’ hand.

“Thank you for coming down, Todd,” said Heidler, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. “Please, sit.”

“What’d you want to see me about, Mr. Heidler?” asked Keller, squeezing his sizable body into the chair.

“Please, call me Ed,” said Heidler with a plastic smile as he sat back down. “And I wanted to thank you for your stellar work on your show, Todd. Ever since that piece of trash picked up Captain America’s shield, your ratings have been through the roof. We’ve managed to increase ad revenue from your show by significant margins and the heartland loves you. The latte-drinking liberals can’t stand you, which is always a plus as well.”

Keller gave a chuckle in response to that.

“So in essence, what I’m saying is keep up the good work,” said Heidler. “This new satellite we’ve launched will help us reach even more people than ever possible before. The number of homes that our message expands into grows day by day, which is more important than ever.”

Heidler stood up and gave a broad smile at Keller. “You see, Todd, we are at the forefront of the culture war. And it’s up to god-fearing men like us to see to it that the blame-America-first crowd doesn’t corrupt the populace with their weak-kneed messages of multiculturalism, appeasement, or amnesty. This is a war, and like any war, it will be won through strength.”

Keller smiled back. “I couldn’t agree more, Mr. Heidler. And I’m really fortunate to be part of this brand new age. Together, I’m sure we can bring about a new revolution of American exceptionalism.”

Heidler circled around his desk and patted Keller on his shoulder. “Now that’s what I’m talking about, son. You’re doing the Lord’s work here and I couldn’t be more proud of you. But sometimes, we need to take things a step further.”

“What do you mean?” asked Keller.

“I mean I have something very important to ask of you.”

DIVIDED STATES

Part I

By Dino Pollard

Sharon Carter stood on the roof of her apartment building, looking out into the night. A streak flew over the horizon, rocketing towards her like a comet. But it slowed once it came close and she saw a man in red, white, and blue armor hovering above her. The boot thrusters slowly lowered him down until his feet rested calmly on the ground.

“You wanted to see me?” asked the Iron Patriot.

“I did, but I wanted it to be you,” said Sharon.

The Iron Patriot hesitated for a moment, but then the latches on his helmet came loose. He removed the helmet, revealing the blond-haired, blue-eyed face of Steve Rogers. Sharon smiled and came towards him, throwing her arms around his armored form. Steve smiled and hugged her back.

“I knew you couldn’t really be dead,” she said. “For a while there, I thought I was going crazy. But then you turned up and…”

“I know, Sharon. It’s okay,” said Steve. He kissed the top of her head.

“I can’t believe you remembered our Croatoan system,” she said. “I’d completely forgotten about it until I saw the note.”

“Croatoan?” Steve’s eyes widened at her comment. He pulled away from her with a smile to cover up his surprise. “Of course. How could I forget?”

“Thanks for remembering,” said Sharon. “If not for my poor housekeeping, I would’ve known about it sooner. So what do we do now?”

Steve raised the helmet and pulled it over his head. “Now I have to get back to work.”

“Work? But there’s so much we have to talk about. The thing with Nomad and we have to figure out what Fury’s mixed up in. Maybe it’s a rogue LMD or something?”

“Maybe, but I have to do this on my own,” said Steve. “I’m sorry, Sharon, but I can’t risk you getting involved in this.”

The helmet sealed up and the Iron Patriot’s thrusters activated, taking him off into the night. Sharon watched him go, not sure what to make of the interaction.

Ronnie Meyer walked into his apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. He took his jacket off with a tired groan, dropping it on a chair and walked to the small kitchen to open the refrigerator and take out a Budweiser. He popped the cap off and sipped the drink as he walked into the living room. When he turned on the light, he was surprised to see a man sitting in his recliner.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked. “How’d you get in my place?”

“It’s okay, Mr. McIntyre,” said the man. “I’m a friend.”

McIntyre. That was a name Ronnie hadn’t heard in a very long time. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. My name’s Meyer, not McIntyre.”

“It was Clinton McIntyre, once upon a time,” said the man. “Back when you were given an experimental serum in the ‘40s. Back when you went insane and were put in suspended animation before you were awakened a few years ago by AIM. Back when you were presumed to have died in a massive explosion.”

Ronnie’s free hand clenched into a tight fist. He’d managed to stay off the radar all this time but it looked like he’d finally been caught. “How’d you find me?”

“I’ve got friends who have kept an eye on you for some time, and we have something we’d like you to help us with.” The man stood up and reached for the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out a photograph and handed it to McIntyre.

The former soldier took it and stared down at it. It was an image of a black man dressed in a blue, chainmail tunic with a white star on the chest. Over his face he had a red bandana. “The new Captain America?”

“Steve Rogers stole your chance to be a hero. Had the life you should have had. And instead of giving it back to you, he passed on his mantle to that…thing.”

McIntyre crumbled the photograph in his hand.

“Makes you pretty mad, doesn’t it?”

“You might say that,” said McIntyre.

“I’ve got something to help with that. I’m here to offer you a chance to become the man you were supposed to be. I’m here to give you the opportunity to become Captain America. But first, I need you to do something for me.”

“An’ what’s that?”

“I need you to become Protocide just once more.”

Max Lohmer was led into an interrogation room and handcuffed to the table. He sighed and shook his head as he waited to figure out why he was brought out of solitary confinement for this. After a few moments, the door opened and a man entered.

“Mr. Lohmer, thank you for meeting with me.”

“Does it look like I’ve got much of a choice?” asked Lohmer. “Whaddaya want, suit?”

The man sat across from Lohmer. “I have a question for you. How would you feel about having the opportunity to strike back at the man who put you here?”

“You mean that Captain Affirmative Action?” asked Lohmer. “Hell, now you’re speaking my language, buddy. I’ll do anything to kill that mongrel.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Josh Glenn watched as the last of his chapter of the Sons of the Serpent left the small meeting hall. He took off his mask and sat down on the stage. He looked over his shoulder and saw the large banner with the image of the new Captain America with a red circle and a line through it emblazoned on top. He smiled as he admired the work that went into it.

“Mr. Glenn, may I have a word?”

Glenn turned his attention across the hall and slid off the stage. He walked towards the man in the suit who approached him. “If you’re here for the meeting, you’re a little late. We just finished. There will be another one tomorrow, though.”

“Actually, I have something else I’d like you to help me with,” said the man. “I represent some people who are quite interested in your zeal towards the new Captain America.” He pointed to the poster. “Nice work, by the way.”

“Thanks,” said Glenn. “So what did you have in mind?”

“I want to give you the chance to end him permanently. If you’re interested.”

Glenn smiled.

Josiah X, the man who took up the mantle of the new Captain America, raced through the streets of New York on his motorcycle. High above him and keeping surprisingly good pace with him was his partner—Sam Wilson, the Falcon. The magnetic drive attached to the Falcon’s wing harness provided sufficient thrust for him to maintain his partner’s speed and the cowl’s circuitry also contained a comm-link between the two of them.

“Another protest from the Sons of the Serpent,” said the Falcon, his voice echoing through Captain America’s earpiece. “How many does that make?”

“About five,” said Captain America. “And if the last one was any indication, they’re becoming more violent.”

“Man, can’t believe the way these racist bastards have come outta the woodwork lately,” said the Falcon.

“Just focus on keeping the peace. Stay visible, but don’t engage unless something happens. Hopefully our presence alone will be enough to deter any additional violence,” said Captain America.

“And you’re sure we’re the ones to be doing this? We’re kinda their target. Maybe the mayor should’ve asked Tony Stark to watch over it.”

“We don’t hide from scum like this, you know that just as well as I do.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Just getting nervous out loud,” said the Falcon.

Captain America turned the corner, driving down towards Central Park, where the gathering was taking place. A podium had been set up and the Supreme Serpent of this chapter of the Sons fired up the crowd into a frenzy. Captain America slowed his bike on the street, removing the blue helmet with the A painted on the front, clipping it to the side of his bike. He stepped off the motorcycle, the shield affixed to the harness on his back. He saw a police barricade set up and cops trying to keep back onlookers from the street. A few of them cheered when they saw the Star-Spangled Avenger, and Josiah approached one of the officers.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Those damn Serpents are talkin’ about racial pride and driving out foreigners, the usual crap,” said the officer before motioning to the counter-protest. “Plenty of folks wanna rip their faces off and even though I’d love to let ‘em, gotta keep ‘em back.”

“Good, keep it up,” said Captain America, moving towards the park. “Falcon, you see anything from up there?”

“Looks clear, I’ve got Redwing scouting closer, too.”

One of the men in Serpent garb turned from the speech and spotted Captain America. He shouted to his brothers. “He’s here! The sonnuva bitch is here!”

“He’s come to intimidate us, my brothers!” said the Supreme Serpent. “Him and his bootstrapped thugs! Drop that shield, imposter! You have no right to it!”

Captain America folded his arms across his chest, trying his best to maintain a level head. “You want to continue with your protest, go right ahead. But I’m not going anywhere. Anything you have to say, you can say it right to my face.”

“How about that yer a scum-sucking traitor?” came a voice from above. Captain America looked up and saw a man flying via the use of a jetpack, dressed in a blue and white uniform with red stripes and a giant white star on the forehead of his mask and chest. He held an unconventional pistol and when he pulled the trigger, laser blasts flew from the barrel. “Time to deal with the Super-Patriot!”

Captain America drew his shield instantly, holding it out in front of him to block the laser. “Sam, what the hell?”

“I just saw him, Josiah! He must’ve come from another direction! I’m on him!”

Captain America used his shield to block the Super-Patriot’s energy blasts and he saw a figure descending from higher, out of the Super-Patriot’s sights. The Falcon launched the grapple line from his gauntlet and it latched onto the Super-Patriot’s jetpack. The Falcon yanked hard as he retracted the cable, pulling the Super-Patriot back.

As the two men tussled, Captain America failed to notice the appearance of another figure. A man rushed from the crowd of the Sons of the Serpent, pulling off his mask as he did. By the time Josiah turned, he recognized the face of the man he’d encountered on his first mission as Captain America.

“Lohmer?” he asked.

Lohmer threw off his Serpent outfit, revealing a white and blue bodysuit beneath. He held what looked like a flashlight in one hand but it projected a sword made of energy. “Call me Zeitgeist!”

Zeitgeist thrust forward and Captain America deflected the strike with his shield. He lunged at Zeitgeist, slamming the shield against his chest. Captain America followed with a roundhouse kick to Zeitgeist’s head, throwing him to the ground. Zeitgeist just looked up, wiping blood from his mouth and smiled. He swung his sword in an upward arc and Captain America had to backflip to avoid the blow. There was some kind of flash from Zeitgeist’s belt and Captain America felt disoriented for a moment.

“What…what the hell…?”

“You like that, you filthy terrorist scumbag?” asked Zeitgeist. His sword crackled with energy and he raised it above his head, ready to strike. But Captain America recovered and threw his shield, striking Zeitgeist at point-blank range with enough force to throw him back several feet. Josiah picked up his shield, but then he heard a cry come from above. He turned and brought his shield up again to defend himself just as another shield, one with a pointed edge at the bottom, clanged against the star on his.

The man holding it flipped off. He was dressed in red with a giant star on his chest and a smaller one over the left eye of his mask. His shield was triangular, and the way it was held on his arm, with the pointed end extending over his fist, made it ideal for a stabbing use. The shield resembled an inverted version of Steve Rogers’ original version.

“You think you can just wear that costume and that shield, with no concept of what they stand for?” he asked.

“And who the hell are you?” asked Captain America.

“Protocide,” he said. “But I was supposed to be Captain America! Steve Rogers stole it from me, then had the gall to give it to some negro!”

“Okay, that’s it!” Captain America hurled the shield with all his might, but Protocide was quick to deflect it with his own shield. But Captain America ran right after he threw the shield, just using it as a distraction. He jumped over Protocide, catching his shield after it ricocheted and flipping over.

A leg-sweep from behind knocked Protocide onto his back. Josiah pulled the shield away, leaving him defenseless as he slammed his own shield against the face of Clinton McIntyre.

“My father was the first recipient of the Super Soldier Serum! Captain America is my legacy!” shouted Josiah. “You, all of you, you’ve tried to take it from me! My father fought for this, watched his friends die, suffered through prison, only to be left feeble and ignored by history!”

With each statement, Josiah drove the shield against Protocide’s head with more and more force. “You’ve mocked me! Questioned my patriotism! Spread lies about my religion! And I! Am! Through! Never again will you drag my name through the dirt! Do you hear me? No more!”

Protocide’s face was bloodied by the repeated blows, but it wasn’t enough for the man called Josiah X. He continued striking, continued raining vicious, angry blows down upon his opponent. The Sons of the Serpent and those who opposed them both watched in stunned silence.

And the cameras kept rolling.

To be continued…