Henry Peter Gyrich entered his apartment and turned the numerous locks on his door. He reached into his pocket and drew out his phone, then activated an app on it. The display read “SCANNING” with a radar-like image flashing. After a minute or so, it read “NO SURVEILLANCE DEVICES FOUND.”

Gyrich breathed a sigh of relief. But he still went to the window, pushing himself up against the wall and opening a few of the horizontal blinds with his fingers, just enough to peek through. He couldn’t see anything and it seemed he was safe. A large bird quickly flew past his window and it startled him, but nothing more.

He looked at his phone again and tried to place a call. It went straight to voicemail. When he opened his text messages, he saw all the messages that had been sent to his contact had gone unread without a single reply. Just a string of messages from Gyrich. Might as well be talking to himself.

A knock came at his door. Gyrich dropped the phone and reached under his jacket to draw his gun. He slowly approached the door, just waiting with his weapon ready.

“Gyrich, it’s Wilson. I know you’re in there, so you might as well open up.”

That damn bird… Gyrich thought. He turned each of the locks and opened the door to see Sam Wilson, also known as the Falcon, standing outside the door.

“What do you want, Wilson?”

“To talk.”

“I’ve got nothing to say.”

He started to close the door, but Sam pushed his way inside.

“Not wanting to talk isn’t the same as having nothing to say,” said Sam. He then looked at the door and saw all the locks on it. “Paranoid much?”

“That’s an understatement.” Gyrich closed the door and turned the locks again.

Sam noticed the gun in his hand. “You wanna put that away? I’m not here for a fight or anything.”

“I’m more comfortable having it on me.”

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine, suit yourself.”

Gyrich walked over to a liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. He held it in one hand with the gun still in the other, hanging by his side. “So what do you want?”

“I was trying to get a lead on Josiah and I was wondering if you knew where he was.”

“The hell I do,” said Gyrich. “In fact, I never want to hear the name Josiah X ever again. Bastard hung me out to dry.”

“How so?”

Gyrich sipped his drink and leaned against the liquor cabinet. “What do you care so much about him anyway? I saw Rogers was back in action, so you should be happy.”

“Maybe…except I had an encounter with him the other night. And he’s…different. Doesn’t seem at all like Steve.”

“Your Avengers buddies ran tests on him, he passed them all with flying colors.”

“Yeah, I know. But something just feels off.”

“Dying’ll do that to a man,” said Gyrich. “So whatever problems you’ve got with him, air them out in couples therapy. It’s got nothing to do with me. I’ve got enough problems right now.”

“What kind of problems?”

There was no response. Sam sighed.

“Look, Josiah told me. About the deal he had with you. If that’s why you’re so paranoid—”

“Damn right I am!” shouted Gyrich. “I put my neck on the chopping block, and then he just up and quits!”

“He had his reasons. What happened with the Colonel and then Heidler—”

“Whatever. No reason for him to throw it all away.”

“Why can’t you understand that—” Sam stopped. He saw something through Redwing’s eyes and his instincts activated. Sam grabbed Gyrich and threw him to the floor.

“What the hell’s the matter with you, you damn psycho?” shouted Gyrich.

Sam said nothing, just gestured with his hand for Gyrich to stay down. Slowly, Sam approached the window and then he saw it. There was a hole in the blinds. Sam opened the blinds and saw a hole in the window.

“Looks like you were right to be paranoid.” Sam began disrobing, revealing his Falcon costume beneath his clothes. He opened the window and climbed onto the sill. “Stay here, I’ll be back.”

Sam jumped from the window and activated his flight harness and holographic hard-light wings. The Falcon took to the air, flying off after the threat.

“Just great…” muttered Gyrich as he stood and looked at the now-empty glass. Sam throwing him to the ground forced him to spill it.

“Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not after you.”

Gyrich spun at the sound of the new voice and opened fire into the darkened hallway of his apartment. He could see the outline of a figure, a man who now stepped into the light, dressed in a dark costume with a domino mask.

“Hey, Gyrich,” said Nomad. “Remember me?”

WAR OF THE CAPTAINS

Part II

By Dino Pollard

The Falcon’s flight harness carried him to the location where Redwing had spotted the shooter. The first thing the Falcon noticed—other than the large sniper rifle—was the metal arm. He glanced up just as Falcon came in on approach, and he swung the rifle strap over his shoulder, then ran for the roof’s edge and leaped across the gap.

The gap between buildings was too large and Falcon knew it. He turned sharply, intending to save the sniper from certain death. But as the Falcon began his descent, the sniper reached out with his metal arm. His fingers dug into the brick and slowed his fall. He planted his feet against the side of the building and sprung off.

The man was agile and quick, moving to the opposite building and then flipping until he landed in the alley. The Falcon dove and the sniper ran out into the busy street. A car honked and tried to swerve, but he jumped onto the roof, then hopped to another car.

The Falcon tried to keep pace with him, but whenever he started to come close, the sniper doubled back, forcing Sam to take sharp turns. He was getting annoyed by the jackrabbit and he held out his arm and fired the grappling line from his gauntlet.

The line coiled around the man’s booted foot and Falcon pulled hard, dragging him up into the air. The sniper bent over and drew a combat knife, then cut the line.

Falcon flew after him and the sniper flipped and landed on a nearby roof in a crouch. The Falcon dove and his wings changed shape, forming into a shield over his arms that he had bent in front of his head. He crashed into the sniper.

The gunman was thrown towards the building’s edge, but he slowed his momentum by grabbing the roof with his arm. He came to a stop right at the edge with his legs bent and his feet planted on the surface. Then he sprung into a kick that nailed the Falcon as he flew closer.

The Falcon’s wings spread out to a large wingspan and his harness provided the stop to his momentum. He watched the stranger carefully, who was dressed in unidentified black combat gear. A domino mask was all he wore over his face and his hair was short and brown.

“Who are you? Why are you trying to kill Gyrich?”

The man didn’t reply, but his hand went behind his back and he pulled out an uzi and sprayed gunfire. The Falcon ducked and shifted his wings into a shield to protect him from the bullets. As soon as the gunman stopped to reload, Falcon’s wings reformed and projected hard-light flechettes.

The sniper dodged most of the flechettes and blocked others with his cybernetic arm, causing them to dissipate on impact. The Falcon used the flechettes as a distraction and launched himself into the man. They tangled for a bit in close quarters and Falcon managed a few quick blows in.

But his opponent was a much better fighter and was able to quickly gain the advantage. The metal arm certainly helped him, which gave him the power to hit a lot harder than Sam was capable. Within moments, the Falcon was knocked onto his back. He got back to his feet and his opponent just stood there, as if he were waiting. Falcon spat and some blood mixed with saliva hit the roof.

“You had the chance to take me out just then,” said Falcon. “What is this?”

The mystery man just smiled and said, “Made you look.”

“What?” asked Falcon.

The sniper pulled something out from behind his back and threw it on the ground. The object exploded with a bright flash and a loud noise that shocked Sam’s eyes and ears. A flash-bang grenade and as Sam cleared the spots from his eyes, the man was gone.

Then he realized what the man was talking about.

“Gyrich!”

The Falcon flew from the roof and headed back towards Gyrich’s apartment. He reached it in record time and went back in through the window. The gun was lying on the ground and there were some signs of a struggle. But no sign of Gyrich.

Sam activated his cowl’s communications array and put in a call. As soon as he heard the voice on the other end, he said, “Sharon, it’s me. We’ve got a situation.”

Hell’s Kitchen

The man in the red, white, and blue uniform had been staking out the warehouse across the street from his current position for a number of hours. It had recently been purchased through a series of shell companies. He couldn’t determine the actual owner, but the scumbags he’d taken down a few nights ago had previously been connected to the Sons of the Serpent. Under questioning, one of them revealed that there was something bigger brewing in town.

The past few months hadn’t been easy for John Walker. His team had fallen apart after they took down the Watchdogs and he was on his own again. And then the new guy apparently gave up the shield.

It’s why Jack made the decision to don a look look, changing the black in his traditional USAgent costume to a navy blue. Rogers was dead, Josiah X had quit, but one thing Jack knew is that the world needed Captain America. And though his stint wasn’t the greatest, he felt like he was the only one left.

Jack had followed a few people he saw coming out of the warehouse. Discovered their identities and learned that they’d been connected with a Hydra cell that seemed to be unaffiliated with the main organization. They’d been active on the darker corners of social media, recruiting disillusioned young men. But other than a lot of flame wars, they hadn’t taken any action.

Yet.

And that was Jack’s guiding star. One way to ensure this cell never became a threat was to take them out now. And Jack would make that his first act as the new Captain America.

Now he was ready to move. He had spotted a few weak entry points on the second floor and was able to go in through there. Jack stuck to the rafters, moving across them in the darkness and down to the first floor. Still up above, he saw the bustle of activity. There were a few dozen men, all dressed in militia-esque fatigues that were green and yellow with the familiar Hydra logo emblazoned over their chests.

He’d questioned whether or not he should have sought out backup, tried reaching out to Lemar or Julia. But no, they’d moved on and now had their own lives. Besides, the day John Walker couldn’t take down a bunch of wannabes was the day he gave up his shield for good.

The miniature control disc embedded in his brainstem allowed him to will his photonic shield into existence on his arm. He could also change the colors, which was why they now had the red, white, and blue of Cap’s classic shield as opposed to the colors he sported as USAgent.

“Time to go to work.”

Walker leapt from the rafters, holding his shield below him, and crashed into the refreshments table that had been set up. He stood up and brushed some of the broken chips off his costume while examining the faces of the shocked Hydra troops.

“Oh, come on, don’t look so shocked,” said Jack. “You had to know this was a possibility.”

He hurled the shield and it struck one of the Hydra troops, then ricocheted into another and another. The shield came right back to Jack’s wrist and as soon as it hit his glove, the shield vanished and a navy staff appeared in his hands.

“Let’s dance.”

In close-quarters like this, the Hydra troops couldn’t use their firearms, so they drew batons instead. Jack fought back with his staff, evading, ducking, and even leaping over attacks that came at him. He separated the staff into two batons and relished the feel of bashing in the skulls of these green-suited fascists.

Let them send more, he thought. He hadn’t had a decent throw-down since going up against the Watchdogs and had almost forgot how much he missed this.

These guys weren’t very skilled. They were all keyboard warriors whose bark was worse than their bite. When it came to real combat, they were pushovers. Certainly didn’t hurt that Jack had enhanced strength and reflexes courtesy of the Power Broker.

The fight was over almost as quickly as it had begun and Jack was standing amongst several unconscious and injured Hydra agents. He dusted off his hands and smiled in satisfaction.

“That the best you got?” he asked.

“Hardly, ‘Captain.’”

Jack turned to face the new voice. It belonged to a man who towered over him with long, dark hair and dressed in armor that looked like it belonged in some sort of fantasy video game.

“These are just the latest recruits,” said the man. “Now you get to face Venger.”

Jack cocked an eyebrow. “‘Venger,’ huh? As far as supervillain names go, I guess I’ve heard worse. But I’ve also heard a whole lot fuckin’ better.”

Venger drew a sword and came at Jack. His speed was in sharp contrast to his size, and Jack almost didn’t react fast enough to generate his shield to block the sword strike. As Venger pushed his blade down on the shield, Jack deactivated the shield and rolled away. Venger’s arm continued forward and his sword slammed against the concrete floor.

Jack circled around from behind and leapt on Venger’s back. He held the photonic staff against Venger’s neck and pulled on it, trying to cut off the warrior’s air.

Venger jumped back and slammed Jack into the wall. The stunned effect Jack experienced caused the staff to blink out of existence and Venger was free. He delivered a roundhouse kick right to Jack’s head.

Walker spun and hit the ground face-first. He looked up and saw Venger approaching. Jack’s gloves responded to his thoughts and created a photonic chain that wrapped around Venger’s legs, pulling them together.

Jack was back on his feet and pulled, dropping Venger to the ground. The chain vanished and the gloves restored the default form of the photonic shield. Jack kicked Venger’s sword away and started bashing the shield against his face.

“All right, Aragorn. Now you’re gonna tell me everything I wanna know about your little Hydra cell. And if I get the sense that you’re lyin’ to me…” Spikes emerged from the edges of the shield, creating a star-like shape.

Something struck Jack from behind and he stumbled forward. He recovered quickly and threw the shield on reflex. It was deflected by another shield. This one very familiar and clearly the object that had struck Jack.

“Can’t be…” said Jack, his eyes bulging.

The man in front of him was dressed in the classic red, white, and blue outfit that Jack himself had briefly worn a lifetime ago. The shield had served as a symbol of hope for generations of Americans. And the man who wore both carried an immense presence as he stepped closer.

“Rogers?” asked Jack. “But you’re—”

Captain America threw his shield and it struck Walker in the chest. Before Walker could recover, Cap had crossed the distance and now beat down on Jack. The former USAgent had battled Steve Rogers on many occasions. But in each of those confrontations, Jack was the wild one.

This man, whoever he was, may have looked like Steve Rogers. But the ferocity with which he fought was unlike anything Jack even thought Rogers to be capable of. Jack was certain that this man was definitely not Captain America, but instead some sort of twisted perversion.

Cap brought Walker to the ground. Jack tasted blood and he could scarcely feel a spot on his body that wasn’t screaming in pain. Probably a few broken bones, too. The imposter stood over Jack and grabbed him by the collar, hoisting him up in the air. He pulled the mask away to reveal Jack’s bloodied face.

“John Walker, I presume,” said the imposter. “Shouldn’t you have learned your lesson by now? As much as you may wish otherwise, you’re not Captain America. You’re nothing more than a poor stand-in.”

He punched Jack so hard, it felt like his head would tear free. The imposter dropped Jack’s battered body and planted a foot on his chest.

“You’ll see, soon enough,” said the imposter. “In fact, the whole country will see. And we’re going to take it all back. Take it back from those who want us to be ashamed of who we are—of what our country is all about. Because we have a new way—a better way. We will make this country great again.”

Right before Jack lost consciousness, he heard this imposter utter two words that chilled him to his core.

“Hail Hydra.”