Phase One: Captain America

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Phase One: Captain America Page 2

by Alex Irvine


  CHAPTER 3

  Steve Rogers wasn’t the only one chosen by the Strategic Scientific Reserve. A few days later he found himself standing in line at Camp Lehigh in the practice field with eleven other recruits. They were all healthy and tall and strong, and next to them, Steve felt even smaller than he usually did. But that didn’t stop him from signing the last-will-and-testament document without a moment’s hesitation. While the other recruits were all nervous about signing their lives away, Steve was willing to give all that he could to the US Army, even if it meant his own life.

  Steve and the rest of the recruits filed into a large room, where Steve spied a man and a woman, watching and waiting. The man scowled at Steve, who was relieved to see Dr. Erskine off to one side, observing the recruits. The other man then introduced himself as Colonel Chester Phillips. He stood ramrod straight, multiple medals shining on his uniform. Deep lines were etched on his face, marking the combat missions that he had survived. Yet his eyes were still bright, clear, and serious as they surveyed the room.

  Colonel Phillips addressed the men: “The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort, made up of the best minds in the free world,” he began. With that, the colonel then introduced Dr. Erskine and Agent Peggy Carter, who was on loan to the army from British Intelligence, and, despite her obvious beauty, looked only slightly less intimidating than Colonel Phillips.

  When Agent Carter began to speak, Steve noticed that there was a lot of quiet chuckling and chattering going on. The recruits kept eyeing Peggy, taking in her long legs and pretty face. They also questioned why they were being addressed by a British officer. “I thought I was signing up for the US Army,” one of them said.

  Agent Carter stopped talking and zeroed in on him. Steve had just met him. He was a big, rawboned blond guy named Hodge. “What’s your name, soldier?” she asked. Hodge told her. “Put your right foot forward,” she instructed him.

  “Why? What kind of move is a dame gonna teach me?” Hodge asked, loud enough for the whole group of recruits to hear.

  Peggy decked him with a straight right to the nose. Then she straightened herself, cool and collected, while Hodge started to get up. Blood ran from his nose.

  “Agent Carter,” the colonel said.

  She came to attention. “Colonel Phillips.”

  “I can see you’re breaking in the candidates,” the colonel said. He gave Hodge a hard glare as Hodge got to his feet and back in the muster line. “That’s good.”

  The breaking-in didn’t stop there. It was only getting started. First up was the obstacle course. As he stood waiting for his team’s turn, Steve tried to remember everything he had read about obstacle courses. He knew that they were supposed to help a soldier learn how to handle combat situations while building a sense of team camaraderie. But looking out over the various objects on the course, and then taking in the men standing on either side of him, he doubted that would happen. The obstacles included a climbing wall, rope swings, a rappelling wall, a long piece of wood that looked like a balance beam but with a rough surface, large rubber tires, and even a deep mud puddle.

  The men already on the course raced through the obstacles, easily climbing over the wall and nimbly running across the balance beam. It looked as if they had been doing this sort of thing their whole lives.

  “Our goal is to create the finest army in history,” Colonel Phillips said as they waited. “But every army starts with one man. By the end of this week, we’re going to choose that man. He’s going to be the first of a new breed of Super-Soldiers.”

  Super-Soldiers? Steve repeated silently. Was there something going on he didn’t know about? But he didn’t have time to think about it, as a horn sounded, signaling his turn to go. He leaped at the wall, trying to pull himself over, but one of the other men’s boots landed squarely on his head, pushing him back. By the time he made it over, he was way behind the others. He could see Phillips, Peggy, and Erskine watching and increased his speed. But he knew that he’d already made a bad impression. He had to pick up his game.

  Erskine turned to Phillips, his mind made up. “Rogers is the clear choice,” he told the colonel. But Phillips couldn’t disagree more.

  “You put a needle in that guy’s arm,” the colonel began, “it’s going to come out the other side.”

  Phillips continued to watch Steve, who was once again the last in line. “Look at him,” Phillips said to Erskine. “He’s making me cry.”

  But the course continued, and so did Steve. He scrambled up a cargo net only to get tangled in it when Hodge walked over him. But he recovered and kept going. He crawled through mud covered by barbed wire only to have Hodge kick out a support beam, causing the barbed wire to fall on Steve. Still, he kept going.

  His efforts didn’t go unnoticed.

  Agent Carter and Dr. Erskine had seen Hodge try to sabotage Steve over and over again. And yet each time, Steve had gotten back up, more determined than ever. He didn’t have the muscles of the other recruits, but he had something they didn’t—heart. He would fight as hard as he could as long as he could and never turn a back on a fellow soldier. Those were the qualities Peggy and Erskine were looking for. Phillips, however, didn’t feel the same way. He still saw Steve as a weak, ineffectual soldier-in-training.

  Phillips wanted Hodge for the job and wasted no time in voicing his opinion. “He’s big, he’s fast, he takes orders. In short, he’s a soldier.”

  “No,” Erskine interjected. “He’s a bully.”

  Phillips immediately countered Erskine’s argument. “You don’t win wars with niceness, Doctor. You win them with guts.” And to prove his point, Phillips picked up a grenade and hurled it into the middle of the course, right near Steve.

  As Hodge and the other recruits panicked and fled, Steve ran right at the grenade. “Everybody, down!” he shouted as he flung himself on top of the explosive device.

  There was a moment of silence as everyone waited for the inevitable. One second passed. Two seconds. Three. Finally, Steve gingerly eased himself up and off the grenade. Looking over to where Phillips, Peggy, and Erskine stood, he cocked his head and asked, “Is this a test?”

  Peggy tried not to smile. It was a test of sorts, and not even Colonel Phillips could deny that Steve had passed. Erskine cocked an eyebrow at the colonel. “He’s still skinny,” Phillips growled. But he didn’t argue any more. The SSR didn’t need to look any further: Steve Rogers was going to be their first Super-Soldier.

  Later that night, Steve sat alone inside the barracks. The rest of the recruits had been sent home, and the empty beds made Steve feel even more alone. But a part of him was excited about what the future held. Peggy and Dr. Erskine had given him more details once he was chosen; he was to be given a special serum that Erskine had created. With luck, it would turn him into a man with extraordinary powers. He’d be able to run faster, hit harder, and think quicker—all things that would be helpful on the battlefield. But there would also be risks in undergoing such a procedure—namely, would he survive the experiment?

  The sound of footsteps echoed in the empty room, and Steve looked up. Erskine had entered the barracks and was walking toward him. As always, the doctor’s expression was somber.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Steve said when the older man took a seat on the bed across from him. Erskine nodded. “Why me?”

  The doctor smiled. He had been expecting this question. And Steve deserved to know the answer—and the history behind the serum.

  Five years ago, Erskine began, he was living in Germany working as a scientist. His experiments were radical, and some felt they were foolish. But then he had invented a serum that had the possibility of giving a man almost-superhuman abilities. It promised great power to anyone who controlled it and, as the war was just beginning, the potential for whoever had it to be victorious. Erskine was eager to keep it out of the wrong hands—but then a man named Johann Schmidt found out about his discovery.

  Schmidt, Erskine explained
, was himself a brilliant scientist, and also the leader of an organization called Hydra. At the time that Erskine worked with him, Schmidt was fascinated with occult powers and Teutonic myths. So was Hitler. Steve knew that. But Schmidt wasn’t a true believer, a real Nazi. He longed for his own glory, no matter what the cost. Schmidt believed that worlds existed in which men had the strength of gods and could control weather and the elements. He became obsessed with the idea that a great power had been hidden on Earth by the gods and was waiting to be seized by a superior man. Schmidt—and Hydra—vowed to find that power.

  Steve raised an eyebrow and Erskine nodded as if to say, yes, insane, I know. Then he continued.

  Schmidt believed that Erskine’s serum was the key to that power. And he wanted it. Despite Erskine’s every attempt to stop him, Schmidt got his hands on the serum and, in an act of desperation, injected himself.

  The results were horrific, and the experiment was a failure.

  Erskine had no choice. He fled his country and made his way to the United States in the hope of keeping the rest of the serum out of Schmidt’s hands. But he knew that the Hydra leader would never stop looking for him—or the serum. The failed experiment had corrupted Schmidt, and in Erskine’s eyes, it had turned the scientist into a monster.

  “This is why you were chosen,” Erskine said to Steve, who had been listening intently. “A strong man, he might lose respect for power if he had it all his life. But a weak man knows the value of strength… and compassion.”

  The scientist sighed deeply. He saw the doubt in Steve’s eyes and couldn’t blame him. It was a rather unbelievable story. But it was an important one. For Erskine had learned a valuable lesson.

  “The serum amplifies what is inside,” he finished. “Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.” Erskine looked Steve straight in the eyes. “Whatever happens tomorrow,” he said, “promise me you’ll stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.”

  Steve nodded in silence. Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day. He just hoped that Erskine and Peggy were right about him. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if they were wrong.

  CHAPTER 4

  The next day Peggy picked up Steve early in the morning and took him away from Camp Lehigh. They soon found themselves driving through the streets of Brooklyn, New York. For the first time since the night of the exhibition, his thoughts drifted to Bucky and to their misspent youth on the streets.

  “I know this neighborhood,” Steve said to Peggy. “I got beat up in that alley.” He pointed out the car window. “And over there,” he added, pointing to a corner outside a soda fountain. “And there.” This time he nodded at a side street blocked by a garbage truck.

  Peggy looked at him quizzically. “Did you have something against running away?” she asked.

  “You start running,” Steve began, “they’ll never let you stop. You stand up, you push back… They can only tell you no for so long, right?”

  Peggy smiled to herself, more confident than ever that the SSR had made the right choice in picking Steve Rogers.

  The car came to a stop, jolting Steve. Looking around, he saw that they had parked in front of an antiques store.

  “Why did we stop here?” he asked, confused.

  “I love a bargain,” she answered simply, opening the car door and getting out. Steve laughed. Peggy was full of surprises, and he felt a weird flutter in his chest. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to like Peggy.

  Getting out of the car, he followed her inside. An old woman stood behind the counter, surrounded by various knickknacks and dusty antiques. “Wonderful weather this morning,” Peggy said.

  “Isn’t it?” the shopkeeper said.

  “Yes, but I always carry an umbrella.”

  The woman nodded at Peggy, then pressed a hidden button, allowing Peggy and Steve to enter. This was serious spy stuff. Steve couldn’t quite believe it all.

  At a door in the back of the store, Peggy stopped and turned to make sure Steve was behind her. Then she opened the door, revealing a secret staircase. They made their way down and walked through another door—right into the Strategic Scientific Reserve Rebirth lab.

  Steve’s eyes grew wide as he took in the giant space. Far larger than the store above, it was illuminated by bright lights and bustling with activity. In the center of the ultramodern area, technicians operated different kinds of machinery, consulting with one another as they pulled levers and flipped switches. A group of engineers manned a row of monitors that beeped with information, while in another part of the lab a film crew was setting up their equipment.

  Looking up, Steve noticed an observation booth. Several serious-looking men stood inside talking. Peggy quickly informed him that the man with the salt-and-pepper hair was Senator Brandt. He had helped the SSR get funding for the serum experiment—code-named Project: Rebirth—and was here to see if his money had been well spent.

  As Steve walked farther into the lab, everyone turned to stare at him. He smiled self-consciously when he realized that he might be in over his head. Instinctively, he made his way to Dr. Erskine, who stood next to a large mechanical assembly. It was centered around a kind of human-shaped recess, almost like a cradle. Surrounding it were rows of brackets and straps and all kinds of medical-looking instruments and machines. This, Erskine informed him, was the Rebirth device. It was in this cradle that Steve would be given the serum.

  With a deep breath, Steve got inside. It was now or never.

  “Comfortable?” Dr. Erskine asked.

  At Steve’s nod, Erskine smiled. Then, turning to the attendants standing at the ready, he gave them the signal. They began to hook up Steve to various wires, tubes, and monitors. These would help Erskine observe Steve’s reactions as the experiment proceeded.

  “How are your levels, Mr. Stark?” Erskine asked, turning to someone Steve hadn’t noticed before.

  The man turned and Steve raised an eyebrow. It was Howard Stark, the inventor he had seen at the World Exhibition of Tomorrow. Stark wasn’t a military man, so he must also be on loan to the SSR, Steve thought.

  “Coils are at peak,” Stark replied to Erskine. “Levels are one hundred percent. We’re ready.” Then he paused before adding, “As we’ll ever be.”

  Erskine didn’t seem as concerned. Picking up a microphone that would carry his words into the observation booth, he began to speak. “Today, we take the first step on the path to peace,” he said. Behind him, more attendants fiddled with the machines hooked up to Steve. A heart monitor began to beep in time with Steve’s racing heart.

  “The serum will cause immediate cellular change,” Erskine went on. “In order to prevent uncontrolled growth, the subject will then be saturated with Vita-Rays.”

  Uncontrolled growth? Saturated with rays? The heart monitor started beeping faster as Steve listened. So his cradle was going to turn into a chamber? And he’d be shot full of rays? If Bucky were here right now, Steve thought, he’d tell me, “I told you so.”

  Turning off the microphone, Erskine nodded to a nurse. She opened up a case, revealing an aluminum syringe. She tapped it a few times, pulled back the plunger, and injected Steve in the arm.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” Steve said when she was done.

  “That was penicillin,” Erskine said, a small smile on his face.

  As Steve looked on, a panel slid back, revealing a carousel of blue vials. There were seven tubes of serum in total. Erskine and the nurse began inserting the vials one by one into the injectors set up around Steve. When they had inserted six of the seven, Erskine had another technician move closer. He was in charge of the injector pads—small round objects covered with hundreds of tiny needle tips. They were lightly placed all over the outside of Steve’s body. When they were pressed down into his skin, the serum would flow through the injectors, into the pads, and then into Steve.

  Then Erskine began the countdown. “Beginning serum infusion in five, four, three, two… one.”
r />   He pressed a switch, and Steve jerked as the pads pressed down on him. The blue fluid flowed from the injectors. Instantly, Steve’s veins began to swell and his head began to shake as the fluid washed through him.

  Erskine hit another button and padded restraints closed around Steve’s head, calming the shaking. But it didn’t stop his eyes from glowing blue. From the look on Erskine’s face, though, it seemed as if this was supposed to happen.

  When the six vials were finally empty, Erskine turned to the millionaire inventor. “Now, Mr. Stark.”

  Stark pulled a lever, and the cradle began to tilt. When it was finished moving, Steve was straight up, and the cradle looked like a rocket ready to launch. Then a panel slid across the cradle, sealing Steve inside. Through a small window, everyone could see Steve’s face. With the panels closed, the cradle was now ready to be flooded with Vita-Rays, which would hopefully keep Steve safe. The Vita-Ray machine came courtesy of Howard Stark, who gave Steve a reassuring nod before moving to the control device.

  A piercing whine filled the air as Stark turned a power dial. On a big gauge, a needle began to climb, indicating the level of rays flooding the chamber. It hit ten, then twenty. Steve’s face began to tense. At forty, his eyes squeezed shut. Then the needle reached sixty, and the heart monitor began beeping wildly. The rays were affecting Steve badly. Stark looked to Erskine, ready to turn the machine off, but the scientist shook his head. They had to keep going.

  The needle reached eighty, and a strange orange glow filled the device chamber. Steve’s face could no longer be seen through the window. Inside, Steve was completely unaware of what was going on as the rays battered his body. Outside, Erskine’s own heart pounded. He knew he was putting Steve in great danger, but he had to.…

  When the needle hit ninety, Steve let out a piercing scream. Up in the booth, Brandt and his aides took a step back when they heard it. On the lab floor, Erskine watched as the orange light grew even brighter. It was too much. “Kill the reactors!” he ordered.

 

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