NOTE: This issue takes place prior to the events of Captain America #10

“Is this your idea of a joke?”

Steve Rogers didn’t move from his recliner. Instead, he reached over and lifted the needle from the record player piping out big band music from the table beside him. “I thought this place was supposed to have state-of-the-art security?”

“Yeah, except it has one flaw—it’ll open for anyone with the access codes.” Sharon Carter stepped in front of the recliner and crossed her arms. The navy-blue and white SHIELD uniform clung to every curve of her body, and her blue eyes burrowed into Steve’s skull.

Steve sighed as he set down the book he was reading next to the record player. Sharon glanced at the cover and cocked an eyebrow. “The Count of Monte Cristo?”

“I hadn’t read it in a while,” he said with a shrug. “And now I’ve got some time to reread some of my old favorites. Time to enjoy my retirement.”

“Retirem—? So this isn’t a temporary thing? You’re seriously stepping down?”

“Sharon, I’m in my nineties.”

“Yeah, and you spent most of those years frozen in a block of ice. Look at you, you don’t look a day over twenty-seven.”

“It’s not my world anymore.” Steve stood and walked over to the bay windows, looking out over the city of New York.

Sharon came up beside him and leaned against the window. Her gaze had softened a bit. “Tell me this isn’t about what the Skull did to you in that warped reality.”

“It’s not.”

Sharon chortled and rested her head against the glass. “You’re a terrible liar, Steve. You should at least be able to look me in the eye when you’re trying to bullshit me.”

“It’s not…completely about the Skull. What he put me through…it was worse than anything he’s done to me before. Sharon, he almost broke me. And when I had him on the ground, my foot on his chest…I thought about it.”

“About what?” asked Sharon.

Now, Steve finally looked at her. In his eyes, Sharon could feel his regret and disappointment. “About crossing the line.”

She smiled. “Is that it?”

Steve turned away from the window, his head low. Sharon walked after him. “God, you can be such a damn boy scout sometimes. Steve, you were tortured by your worst enemy, a man who represents the antithesis of everything you stand for. You had a chance to kill him and you thought about it.” She reached out and grabbed his shoulder and he stopped. “That doesn’t make you Johann Schmidt, that just makes you human.”

He covered her hand with his own and slowly wrapped his fingers around hers. “I know that. But the Skull, this is just the latest of many times he’s been able to worm his way into the American government. What does it say of our system when someone like Schmidt can get in so frequently?”

“Just means it’s not perfect. Nothing is. But that doesn’t mean you give up trying.”

Steve turned towards her and took both her hands in his own. “I’m tired, Sharon. I’m tired of wars, I’m tired of politics. I’m tired of villains hiding in the shadows of power while the heroes are running for their lives, struggling just to keep up. I’m a relic from another world—another century, even. This country needs a new kind of Captain America.”

“And you think that’s Bradley?” asked Sharon.

Steve backed away from her and sat back down in the recliner. “Honestly? I don’t know for sure. But he’s a good man. And he’s more entitled than anyone else to have his chance wearing the flag. I believe in him.”

“Have you looked into his past?”

“Of course I have.”

“So you know he was a globe-trotting mercenary for a long time. We’re not exactly talking Purple Heart material here. He was court-martialed, for crying out loud.”

“I know all about his situation. And I’ve spoken to him about it personally. And while in Africa, he saw he was wrong. He’s been fighting for redemption ever since,” said Steve. “We have to give him that chance.”

“Yeah, let’s talk about Africa,” said Sharon. “Steve, you named a Muslim priest Captain America.”

“The term’s ‘imam.’ Religious prejudice doesn’t really suit you, Sharon.”

“Oh come on, you know it doesn’t matter to me! He could be a damn Scientologist for all I care!” Sharon sighed. “I’m talking about the rest of the country. Look at all the heat our current President is getting for purported Muslim beliefs. Now you’ve got a Muslim Captain America? Have you even been watching TV? They’re gonna crucify him.”

Steve grinned slightly. “You need to have more faith in the American people, Sharon. There’s always been resistance to change, but eventually they’ll see what’s right.”

“This is a dangerous game, Steve. And you couldn’t have picked a worse time. Especially given what we’ve found out about Control.”

“Josiah is more than capable of investigating Control on his own terms. Especially when he’s got both SHIELD and the Avengers backing him up.”

“And you’re sure the Avengers are going to just accept him?”

“Actually, yes,” said Steve. “In fact, I introduced Josiah and Tony earlier today. They seemed to get along pretty well. As far as Control, Jack knows more about them than I do, and he’s got more autonomy to investigate them than I would ever have.”

“You’re making a big mistake.”

Steve sat forward in the chair. “Tell me, Sharon. What is it about Josiah that you’re so opposed to? We both know you don’t care about his religious beliefs. And you’ve worked with people who had checkered pasts before. So what’s the real reason?”

“Honestly?” asked Sharon. “You really wanna know?”

“Of course.”

Sharon averted her eyes from Steve. “He’s not you.”

IMPRESSIONS

By Scott Redmond and Dino Pollard

CASE OFFICER: Sharon Carter, Agent 13
SUBJECT: Josiah Bradley (legally changed to Josiah al hajj Saddiq)
KNOWN ALIASES: Josiah X; Josiah Smith; Ca

Sharon hesitated after typing those first two letters. She rested her elbows on the desk and laid her fingers on her head, sighing deeply. God, she could kill Fury for assigning her to this smug opportunist, this nobody trying to fill the shoes of one of the greatest men who ever lived.

Captain America.

“There, you happy, asshole?”

She began describing the details of the report, her fingers clacking against the keys in rapid rhythm.

On the date in question, a white supremacist named Max Lohmer and several accomplices took innocent civilians hostage. They were armed with assault rifles and their demands were simple—trade the hostages for Bradley, the

She paused again, but not as long as before, and continued typing.

the new Captain America. According to Lohmer’s demands, for every hour Bradley failed to show, they would kill one hostage. Lohmer made the claim that he is the grandson of Wilhelm Lohmer, a World War II-era Nazi Super Soldier known as the Master Man. These claims appear to be accurate, although Lohmer appears to have inherited none of his grandfather’s superhuman abilities.

With the aid of Sam Wilson, alias the Falcon, Bradley managed to defeat Lohmer and his associates without a single hostage casualty or injury. In the opinion of this agent, Bradley is a well-trained fighter, his skills honed after years of working in both the military forces and private security.

However, whether or not Bradley lives up to the legacy of Steven Rogers remains to be seen. Bradley is not quite as adept with the shield, and despite some early success in training has also made many miscalculations in its usage. Whereas Rogers was accustomed to using the shield as an offensive projectile, Bradley repeatedly resorts to using the shield for defense purposes or as a blunt instrument in close-quarters.

Adding to the lack of skill with the shield is Bradley’s public perception. Whereas Rogers was loved by the public, even in dark times, Bradley has been met with a mixture of fear, uncertainty, and palpable anger.

“’Given the current political climate in America, it is the opinion of this agent that Bradley’s adoption of the Captain America identity will become more of a burden than a blessing for all associated with him, including SHIELD.’”

Sharon recognized the voice and turned her chair around. Several feet away stood Sam Wilson, wearing track pants and a navy t-shirt with the SHIELD logo in the upper left. His pet falcon, Redwing, was perched on his right shoulder, a towel slung over his left. “A little harsh, don’t you think?”

“If Fury didn’t want me to be honest, he should have picked someone else for this job,” she said.

“Yeah but still, way you talk about him, makes people think the brother stole that costume from Steve,” said Sam. “Again, I ask: harsh much?”

“You weren’t there, Sam. I was standing just a few feet from Bradley when Gyrich warned him that they’re going to go after Steve for treason. Bradley’s response—and I quote—’Provided you don’t send me after him.’”

Sam was silent. “Was that all he said?”

“After Gyrich left, Bradley told us he was just telling him what he wanted to hear. Said that Gyrich wouldn’t be able to nab Steve anyway.”

“Well, he’s got you there.”

“I know Steve can handle anything Gyrich throws at him—Christ, I’m not stupid. But that doesn’t mean we give him the green light!”

“It’s politics, Sharon. Simple as that. If Josiah stood up to Gyrich and got into a shouting match with him, what would that get us? CSA’d be breathin’ down all our necks. Including yours. But telling him he’s not gonna stand in Gyrich’s way? Well, it makes Gyrich think they’re on the same page.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Sharon. “Something about the way Josiah operates…he’s too slick.”

“Yeah, it’s not the way Steve would’ve handled the situation, you’re right about that. But I think Steve knew that. That’s why he gave the shield to Josiah, he said—”

“—it’s time for a new Captain America. I know, I heard the speech,” said Sharon. “But Steve’s been wrong before.”

Inside her apartment, Sharon closed the door and locked it. She shed her jacket, all before even turning on the light. Some of the moonlight filtered in through the windows. She felt a breeze, one of the windows was open. She never left her windows open.

“Good evening, Agent Carter.”

Sharon instantly hit the ground, her hand quickly drawing a small gun from the ankle holster. The light turned on and Josiah X sat before her, dressed in street clothes. He calmly folded his hands and rested them on his lap.

“I thought it was time we had a little chat.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” asked Sharon, getting to her feet, but still keeping the gun pointed at him.

“Sharon…” He sighed. “If we’re going to have a conversation, I think it would put us both at ease if you lowered your weapon.”

Sharon reluctantly lowered the gun, but still held it in her hand. “Where the hell do you get off, Bradley? Breaking into my apartment? You’re lucky I don’t shoot you on principle.”

“I read your report.”

“My re—” Sharon’s brief confusion quickly turned to anger. “How the hell did you read my report? Those are classified, you have no rig—”

“I found it very interesting,” said Josiah. “Particularly the part about public perception.”

“I’m just telling it like it is. SHIELD didn’t hire me to be your publicist.”

“No, you’re my liaison with them, and I know it’s a position you’d rather flush.”

“Very perceptive,” said Sharon.

“Listen, I think there are a few things we need to get straight,” said Josiah, rising from the chair. “First off, I know I’m not Steve Rogers. I know I don’t do things the way he would. And I understand it must be difficult for you to see someone else holding his shield, especially given your past relationship.”

“That’s none of your—”

Josiah gently held his hand up in a gesture of silence. “Please, let me finish. Despite all the problems you may have with me, we are supposed to work together. And I don’t want us to do it while sneering at each other. So I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”

“What’s that?” asked Sharon.

Josiah sighed. “The truth is, I’m terrified. I don’t know if I’m right for this job. But Steve put his faith in me and I owe it both to him and to my father to give it my best shot. And if I’m going to do that, I need help.”

“Then talk to Steve.”

“No,” said Josiah. “I need your help. Help like this report. I need someone who will be blunt with me, perhaps even more harshly than needed. What I’m telling you, Sharon, is I need you to keep me in line. And I need you to challenge me.”

Josiah held out his hand. “Can you do that?”

Sharon shook his hand. “It’s a deal.”

He cracked a smile. “Thank you.”

“Just so we’re clear, I still don’t completely trust you.”

“I know,” said Josiah. He broke the handshake and moved past her to the front door. “And I’m fine with that.”

Sharon went to the couch beneath the window and stood on it. As she pulled the open window down, she failed to notice an envelope with only her name scrawled on the front. In the process of closing the window, she knocked the envelope from the sill.

It fell behind the couch.