¹𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘆 - 𝘴. 𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 ✓

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟳

𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗮 𝟭𝟵𝟰𝟱

The SSR had been very successful in their fight to taken down Hydra. Over the past 2 years many Hydra factories and bases had fallen. On this cold day Steve and his Howling Commandos where perched on the side of a cliff, waiting for a train to come in the valley below. The plan was to zip line across the valley to it and stop it.

"The engineer just radioed ahead. Hydra dispatch gave him permission to open the throttle. Whatever's on this train, they must need it bad." Jones informed them, worried.

"Well, they're not going to get it." Morita stated confidently.

"I wouldn't be so sure..." Falsworth said, looking through a pair of binoculars, "because they are moving like the devil."

Steve checked his rifle and glanced up to observe the train turning around the corner. "All aboard gentleman!" Falsworth yelled over the wind and screech of the train.

Steve positioned himself on the zip line, shield on his back and rifle on his shoulder. "Okay, this is a very short, very fast train. We've got a ten-second window, tops. Mistime it and you're a bug on the windshield."

"Better move it, bugs." Dugan looked at Steve and then the train.

Without another word Steve and Jones grabbed onto the T-bar and took off. To their relief they landed with a thud on the top of the train. They both looked at each other, relief filling them. But they still had a job to do.

Steve dropped down to a gap between the cars and kicked open the door, gun at the ready. But to his surprise no one was there. Behind him Jones made his way to the engine.

Steve ran into the next car, again to find nothing. They where suppose to be hauling something. Steve told himself, something was weird.

Steve entered the next car, warily. It was dark and as soon as he stepped all the way in, a metal door came down behind him, sealing him in. Suddenly the lights turned on to reveal a huge Hydra Trooper. He was at least six and a half feet tall with huge guns and thick armor. Steve shot his rifle but it's bullets bounced off the armor, harmlessly.

The trooper advanced towards him, pushing him against the wall. The trooper pointed his huge blaster towards Steve and was about to fire when Steve brought out his shield and stopped it. Steve ran toward him at full speed. The trooper, caught off guard, backed up, giving Steve the perfect opportunity to put his shield between his helmet and armor. Effectively killing him.

Steve stood over him, panting with blood dripping from his shield. Suddenly the train stopped and his radio went off, "Rodgers, I've got him."

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Their mission was a success, Dr. Zola was now in SSR custody. But Steve couldn't think about that. He had received word that they had identified Bucky's body as one of the dead. It has taken long enough. But bodies where often hard to identify when they had been through battle. Bloody, bruised and missing limbs.

Steve sat in the pub that just two years ago he had recruited the Howling Commandos, or what was left of it. The bombs had destroyed much of London. Steve cursed the Nazis under his breath as he held a beer.

Behind him he heard someone approaching. He turned around to see Peggy. She just stood next to him, not saying anything, waiting for him to speak.

"Doctor Erskine told me the serum, wouldn't just work on my muscles and my reflexes - he said it would work in my cells, create a protective system of healing, of regenerating. Which means..." he turned to her, "I can't get drunk. Did you know that?" All Steve wanted in this moment was to forget about his problems through liquor.

"Your metabolism burns three times faster than average. He thought it could be one of the side effects." She looked down at him but not with a look of pity, almost one of understanding. Like she knew what it was like to lose.

"Probably didn't want anyone stealing his schnapps." He sighed, taking a swig of his beer. "You know for the past two years I honestly thought he might be alive. Off in some POW camp somewhere. And I kept telling myself, when we win the war, when we win the war..." he looked down at his hands, "I should have just faced the truth a while ago."

Peggy sat down across from him. "Your friend, did he have a family?"

"Yeah, his ma and his sister." He looked off, as if they were a distant memory.

"They will be so happy that they will at least have a body to lay in the ground, and not just a empty coffin. Not many get that." Steve thought it sounded like she spoke from a past experience, "and they get a body to bury because of your efforts."

Steve nodded, "you sound like you speak from experience." He didn't mean to pry, he was just interested.

"Yes well, war takes many lives." She spoke sadly.

Steve took another sip and looked at her, and she looked right back at him. In that moment he had never wanted to kiss her more. He reached across the table and took her hand, "can- can I..." he stuttered, nervous, "can I kiss you?"

Peggy was taken aback by his forwardness. Most men didn't ask permission. For the past few years she had been pushing aside her feelings for him, deciding to focus on her job and the war efforts. But in that moment all her walls crumbled. Walls she had spent years building, trying to make sure no one got to know the real Peggy Carter. So no one could hurt her. But then along came Steve Rodgers and he tore them all down.

"Yes." She breathed and leaned in and kissed him. It was a tender kiss, full of warmth and emotion. Her lips where soft and Steve could smell her perfume. Once they broke apart Steve leaned back and looked at her. "Peggy, will you be my girlfriend?" He looked at her nervously, expecting rejection.

Peggy took in a sharp breath. It had been years since she dated. She quickly pushed the thoughts of her past lover out of her mind. "Yes. Yes I will."

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The Allied Headquartered Briefing Room was filled hazy cigarette smoke and the air smelled stale. But no one could think about that at the moment. Everyone sat around a long table with Steve at the head. On the wall behind him hung huge maps. On the table maps where also laid out.

"Johann Schmidt belongs in the bughouse. He thinks he's a god and he's going to blow up half the world to prove it." The colonel spoke, pointing to the United States on the map, "starting with the USA."

"That's insane." Dugan said.

"So's Hitler, but he's gotten pretty far with less than Schmidt has." Peggy shook her head.

"But Hydra would need millions of men, fleets of transport. They'd have to be fed, fueled-" Falsworth questioned, confused.

"Schmidt's working with powers beyond our capabilities. He gets across the Atlantic, he'll wipe out the entire eastern seaboard in an hour."

The room got much quieter, "Every able-bodied man we have is either here or in the Pacific. Our borders are wide open." Steve realized with worry.

"How much time have we got?" Jones questioned.

"According to my new best friend, under 24 hours." Colonel Williams referred to Dr. Zola who was in SSR custody.

"Where is he now?" Steve asked, referring to Schmidt.

"Hydras last base is here," pointed to a photo, "in the Alps. Five hundred feet below the surface."

"What are we suppose to do? It's not like we can just knock on the front door." Morita questioned.

"That's exactly what will do." Steve deadpanned.