Liberty Island

Sam Wilson stood in his Falcon uniform, perched atop the torch held by the Statue of Liberty. Redwing, the falcon who served as his partner, rested on Sam’s shoulder. His arms tightly clung around an object wrapped in a sheet. And despite how difficult it would be to damage this object, Sam still held it as if it were the most precious of cargo.

He looked up when he heard the sound of jets overhead. A figure clad in red, white, and blue armor lowered himself, hovering just a few feet in front of Sam. The faceplate on the armor flipped up to reveal Steve Rogers.

“Sam,” he said. “Got your call.”

“Thanks for coming, Steve,” said Sam. “I’m sure by now you know about Josiah?”

Steve gave a solemn nod. “It’s a shame. Josiah was a good man, but maybe the burden was just too great.”

Sam was taken aback by the comment. “I don’t know about that. Josiah proved himself time and time again. He was definitely good enough to carry the shield.”

“Have you heard from him?”

Sam shook his head. “I’ve tried reaching out, but no luck. Spoke to Stark, he said Josiah officially resigned from the Avengers via email.”

He started to unwrap the object in his arms. Once the cloth came off, Steve could see the round shield with concentric red and white stripes leading to a blue circle with a star in the center. Sam held the famous shield out towards Steve.

“I know you were content with staying the Iron Patriot for the time being, but I think it’s time for you to take up the mantle once again,” said Sam. “This country needs a Captain America, and no one else has ever been more suited to that role than you.”

Steve hovered closer and reached his hands out for the shield. He gently took it from Sam and held it at arm’s length, just staring at it for a few moments. As if he were in awe of it.

“I suppose it’s time,” said Steve. “I haven’t exactly been comfortable using this armor. I miss having the freedom of movement.”

“I’m sure you do,” said Sam. “Hey listen, I know it’s been a while. But if you want to partner-up again, I’m game.”

Steve offered a small smile. “Thanks for the offer, Sam. And the shield. But I think I need some time to myself before I’m ready to work with a partner again.”

“What about the Avengers? They’ll be down a Cap now that Josiah’s resigned.”

Steve shook his head. “Not quite ready yet. But I’ll get there soon enough.”

The response came as a surprise to Sam. He thought that after all this time underground, Steve would be looking forward to working with friends once more. But maybe it had something to do with Steve’s suspicions of SHIELD and Nick Fury.

“Well, you got my number when you change your mind,” said Sam.

Steve nodded as the faceplate closed, disguising his features with the intimidating helmet of the Iron Patriot. He activated his boot jets and rocketed off into the night sky.

Sam’s hard-light holographic wings emerged from the back of his flight harness. The magnetic drive provided the thrust and he flew back towards his apartment in Harlem.

With Josiah off the grid and Steve working alone, Sam thought this might be a good opportunity for the Falcon to take a bit of a break.

WAR OF THE CAPTAINS

Part I

By Dino Pollard

Sam walked down the hallway and stopped at one of the apartment doors. He knocked a few times and then waited. After a few moments, the door opened, restrained by the chain, and Sam saw the blue eyes and blond hair of SHIELD’s Agent 13.

“Hey Sharon,” he said.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” asked Sharon Carter.

Sam shrugged. “Guy needs a reason to visit a friend?”

“Just a minute.” Sharon closed the door to remove the chain and then opened it all way. “Come on in.”

Sam nodded his thanks and entered. He walked into Sharon’s apartment and, at her bidding, took a seat on the couch in the living room.

“You want some coffee?” she asked.

“That’d be good.”

Sharon went into the kitchen. As she began making the coffee, Sam started in with the reason why he’d come by. “Don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from Josiah?”

“I’m assuming you’re asking because you can’t get in touch with him,” Sharon called back from the kitchen.

“Good guess.”

“Sam, you were closer to Josiah than I was. We respected each other, but I wouldn’t necessarily call us friends.”

“He’d been through a lot is all,” said Sam. “Everything Heidler did—gathering the new Freedom Force, framing him for Keller, Irenia…”

The last one gave Sam pause. Irenia was like a mother to Josiah, until the Freedom Force set a bomb under his Princeton Walk home. A bomb that took her life.

Sharon emerged from the kitchen carrying two cups of coffee. She handed one to Sam and he accepted it with a simple thank you. Sharon sat in an adjacent loveseat and crossed her legs as she listened to him.

“He left town before her funeral,” said Sam. “Resigned from the Avengers via email. I spoke to Kurt Wagner and he said he hasn’t been able to reach Josiah either.”

“Josiah was a soldier and a merc. He stayed off the radar for decades,” said Sharon. “My guess is if he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.”

“Guess so.” Sam sighed and sipped his coffee. “You talk to Steve yet?”

Sharon paused and then shook her head. “No.”

“What’s up?”

She looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve known each other a long time, Sharon. I can tell when something’s bothering you.”

She sipped her coffee and after another long pause, finally spoke. “Croatoan.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Your system, right? For you and Steve to let each other know you were okay if you ever had to disappear for a mission.”

“Something’s been bothering me about it,” said Sharon. “I met with Steve right before the Freedom Force made their move. I mentioned the Croatoan system to him. And…he hesitated.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you.”

“I mentioned the system to him. And he said, ‘Croatoan?’ Rising intonation, a question,” said Sharon. “He tried to cover it up immediately after he realized his mistake, but I knew something wasn’t right.”

“He faked his death months ago, Croatoan could have slipped his mind for a minute.”

Sharon shook her head. “I’ve been a spy for my entire adult life, Sam. And I know Steve better than I know myself. He would never forget something like that. I can tell when someone’s lying to me.”

“So you’re saying you don’t think the guy in the Iron Patriot armor is the real Steve Rogers?” asked Sam.

“I don’t know, but I have my suspicions,” said Sharon. “There’s also another wrinkle.”

“Which is?”

“If whoever the Patriot is didn’t know about the Croatoan system, then who left the note in my apartment?”

There was one other person who may have known where Josiah had run off to, and it was the one Sam was hoping he wouldn’t have to meet with. Henry Peter Gyrich had become something of an informant for Josiah within the organization called Control. It was a long shot that Josiah would have communicated anything to Gyrich and no one else, but stranger things had happened.

The thought of going over to Gyrich’s home made Sam’s skin crawl. When he first joined the Avengers, he was essentially forced on the team by Gyrich, who used him as a token hire to make the Avengers appear more diverse. As much as Sam respected the Avengers and considered his ID card a badge of honor, that cloud had always hung over his initiation. And it was something he still held a grudge against Gyrich over.

The last thing Sharon said still sat with him, too. The possibility that Steve might be back, but that the man in the Iron Patriot suit—the man Sam had given Steve’s shield to—wasn’t him seemed almost ludicrous.

A coffee stand was on this block and Sam decided to get in line. Another way to delay him from going to Gyrich’s, but Sam convinced himself he could use some caffeine first. As he waited in line, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Sam took the phone out. Stark had designed an app that scraped social media, newswires, and police bands in order to alert users whenever a costumed criminal was spotted nearby. And sources not far from Sam’s apartment had seen a criminal on the move after robbing a bank.

He didn’t have his flight harness, but his apartment was just a block away. By the time he got to his place, seemed likely the criminal would have gotten away or that another hero had gotten on the case. Still, it was yet another excuse to put off talking to Gyrich, so Sam was willing to take it.

By the time the Falcon had taken off from the roof of his building, he checked the app, linked directly to the heads-up display on the goggles of his flight suit. Looked like the criminal was still on the move. And had been identified, too.

The Falcon increased the thrust on his magnetic drive, propelling him faster through the air. As he came closer to the last reported sighting, he saw a streak zig-zagging through the air. The Falcon activated his goggles’ binocular vision feature to confirm.

It was the target.

The Falcon went faster until he was gaining on the target, wearing a red and gold flight suit. He was riding a rocket-propelled hoverboard of all things. The Falcon took aim and fired his “talon” from its housing on his gauntlet.

The cable flew and wrapped around his target, yanking him back, pulling the hoverboard with him.

“Rocket Racer,” said the Falcon as he lowered himself in front of the black youth. “Heard you went straight. How come I’m getting reports that you hit a bank?”

“You got any idea how much it costs to pay back student loans?” asked the Rocket Racer. “Plus I’ve got six siblings who depend on me. So I’ve got bills piling up and the only job I could get was working at Starbucks. I didn’t wanna do this, but I was desperate.”

“Seems you upgraded, too.” The Falcon pointed at the board. In the past, the Rocket Racer’s board was just a skateboard with gyroscopic wheels that allowed it to go up the sides of buildings. Now it could fly.

“Figured I needed a bit of an edge,” said Racer. “C’mon, Falc. I already dropped the cash, can’t you just let this slide?”

The Falcon sighed. He didn’t want to set an example like that, but Robert Farrell wasn’t a bad kid. And with his engineering skill, he had a lot to offer the world. A decision was made and Falcon untied the Rocket Racer, retracting his cable.

“Maybe I could put in a word with someone. See if we can find you a job more deserving of your talents.”

“Does that mean you’ll talk to…him?”

“‘Him’?”

Almost on cue, the Falcon heard something behind him. He turned around and saw Steve Rogers standing there, back in his classic Captain America uniform. He took the familiar shield off his back and slid his arm through the straps.

“Thanks for the assist, Falcon,” said Captain America. “I’ll take the perp from here.”

“Ease up, Cap,” said Falcon. “He was desperate, he made a mistake. The Racer’s a good kid, he’s got people depending on him. We can cut him a break.”

“Maybe he should’ve thought of that before he robbed a bank.”

The Falcon moved closer to Captain America. “Just take it easy, okay?”

Cap’s eyes never wavered, they simply narrowed and fixated on the Falcon. “This is the one warning I’m going to give you—get out of my way, Sam.”

“Steve—”

Before Falcon could finish his sentence, Captain America sprung, leaping over the Falcon’s head. He landed right behind Falcon, now nothing standing before him and the Rocket Racer.

“Oh shit on me!” The Rocket Racer activated his board and took off in an escape.

“You’re not getting away that easily.”

Captain America took the shield from his arm and hurled it with unparalleled skill. It bounced off the roof and struck the Racer in the back of his head, sending his board flying out of control.

“Farrell!” The Falcon took off, flying to try and help the Rocket Racer before he hurt himself or someone else. But as fast as he moved, Captain America seemed to move faster. He’d already broken into a run as soon as the shield left his arm and he leapt from the roof, tackling the Rocket Racer and pulling him down to an adjacent building.

They crashed down and the Falcon flew after them. By the time Falcon reached, he witnessed the horrifying sight of Captain America raining blows down against Rocket Racer. The kid wasn’t even fighting back—in fact, it seemed he’d already been knocked out cold.

“Enough!” The Falcon fired his talon once more, the cable wrapping around Cap’s arm just as he was coiling for another strike. Captain America gripped the cable and yanked on it, pulling the Falcon onto the roof.

He tore the cable from his arm and dropped it on the roof. Captain America retrieved the shield and walked over to the Falcon. Sam got to his feet, raising the goggles from his eyes.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he asked. “Rocket Racer’s never deserved that kind of treatment! He’s never been dangerous, just misguided.”

“I don’t care what his reasons are, he has to take responsibility for his actions,” said Captain America. “In this country, we have two little things called ‘law’ and ‘order.’ And these people need to be taught what exactly their place is.”

Sam was stunned by the comment and then he narrowed his eyes. “And exactly which ‘people’ is it that need to be taught their place?”

Captain America opened his mouth, but then he stopped when he looked up at the sound of helicopters. News choppers had started to move into position to catch sight of the action. It probably had less to do with the Rocket Racer and more to do with the reports that Steve Rogers was back in action.

“Forget it,” said Captain America. “I’ll let you take it from here. Make sure that bleeding heart of yours doesn’t mess up your uniform.”

Captain America secured his shield on the back of his suit and then sprinted for the edge of the roof. He jumped into the alley and was then gone. The Falcon went to Rocket Racer’s side and checked on the kid.

He was unconscious, but at least he was alive. And Sam realized he’d never had to worry about that where Steve was concerned. At least not until now.

Miles away in another part of New York City, Osman Sahib was walking home after closing up his shop. In recent years, Osman had grown more nervous about walking home at night. Ever since his family first came to America from Pakistan when he was a child, he’d grown up used to the stares of people uncomfortable with him. But over time, as people got to know him and his family, the stares became less common.

That had changed recently. Osman was starting to feel like an outsider in his own neighborhood. Tonight, he could sense someone behind him. Several someones.

“Hey! Raghead!”

Osman ignored the slur and kept walking. But then something hard struck the back of his head. He stopped and flinched, reaching a hand to touch the spot where he’d been struck. It was then he saw the five young white men behind him.

One of them wore a green shirt with “CLEANSE THE GARDEN” written in yellow lettering. It was a slogan spouted by the Sons of the Serpent. That was enough for Osman to know just what sort of people these were.

“Shouldn’t be dirtying up our neighborhood anymore,” said one of them. “This isn’t your country. If you had any sense, you’d take your family back to whatever shithole you crawled out of.”

Something flew between Osman and his attackers. It struck the ground and they could all see it was a red, white, and blue shield. Osman smiled—he’d heard he was gone, but now it seemed like he was back.

But then the shield flew back from where it struck. All eyes followed it as it returned to the arm of its owner. And then, the shield changed, becoming a pair of batons that the man held in each hand.

The man said nothing else. He simply moved into the group, easily taking them all on at once. The batons gave him an edge that the group couldn’t match. The fact that they had the edge in numbers made no difference to him. Within moments, they were all on the ground, unconscious.

“Th-thank you,” said Osman, moving closer to the man.

But as he turned to face Osman, the Pakistani-American was surprised. This definitely wasn’t Josiah X, the Captain America Osman had thought it was. But there was also something different about him from what Osman had known of Steve Rogers.

“Who are you?” asked Osman.

“You dense or something?” asked the man as he slammed the batons together and they changed back into the shield.

His uniform was red, white, and blue, but there was no A on the mask. And the traditional vertical stripes around the waist were now just emblazoned horizontally across his torso. There was no giant white star, but instead a black one in one corner of the stripe box.

“I’m Captain fucking America is who I am.”

To be continued…