Sinister Six again had attacked.
This time, an arms shipment. Peter rushed toward the scene; NYPD had surrounded them at intersections, crippling the car that was being driven by Shocker.
A boomerang sliced through his webbing. He tumbled, but the suit caught him; he dodged as three more boomerangs impacted the building he was adhered to.
"Howdy mate, I'm Boomerang. Nice city ya got here." Shouted the obvious Australian who was sequestered atop a building.
The back doors exploded, and Doc Oct rampaged out on his many limbs. The officers opened fire, and he cocooned himself, deflecting the bullets.
"My turn," he snarled, ripping the doors off cars and slinging them through the air.
The Vulture's talons sparked as he dodged the blindside. He twisted in the air, a sedan speeding past him, the occupants screaming in horror. He reacted, annoyed at the civilians who got in his way.
He webbed the car, twirled, and webbed the vulture, his forceful flight turning it over and causing it to land upright.
"Sweet," he exclaimed.
Spider-man ensnared the door and ushered the family out; they rushed behind the officers, firing on Shocker and Scorpion.
Rumble.
The ground quaked, and cars were pushed from the path of the Rhino. The brute had been on a warpath since the Red Hood defeated him.
"Spider-man, where is he!" Roared the mutate as he angled his horn down and charged, moving at explosive speeds. Peter e made to leap, but sand swirled from under him; the Sandman had arrived. He fought against the elemental, but it was for naught; he had little to do to the man. He sensed the Rhino's arrival but was trapped; he crossed his arms and reinforced his forearms, the suit bulking up at his commands. He was getting the hang of the new suit, but that wouldn't save him now.
He smashed through the oncoming cars. Screams and shouts of pain tickled at the old him, but the new him, the voice, and his newfound drive pushed him forward.
"Stay down, twerp." The biologically enhanced hulk grumbled before turning slowly and lumbering away, its massive footfalls shaking the building windows and causing a cascade of car alarms.
Rhino charged forward, scattering the police cruiser and drawing fire; Sandman scattered around a sand screen, clouding the scene.
Agent 13 Sharon Carter helped her aunt out of the car as the once formidable super spy brushed her away.
"Stop it, young lady. I'm not so helpless that I need help getting out of the car," Peggy Carter said, a simpering smile across her face.
"Sure, Aunty," Sharon said, smiling.
"You are so sweet and nice, just like my little sister; I miss her every day."
"Me too; Mom would have been so excited. Are you sure this is what you want? I know I asked, but I told you it was also requested of me."
Peggy tapped her arm softly.
"I'm aware of how things work, girlie. Hell, I've written most of the rules and guidelines."
They stepped into the facility set up to administer Steve Rogers. He was a treasure of science, and she was sure the senators and military were scrambling to find a way to rope him back in, especially now with all the enhanced mutates and mutants running around.
"I'm glad you made it promptly; what-."
The older woman present snorted, interrupting the Director.
"Nicholas Fury Sr." She said in the way of greeting; Sharon tensed, eyeing the larger-than-life man before her.
Fury's hands folded behind him as the two stared at each other.
"You were always the better spy." He said finally.
"It was a giving; women are innately gifted."
Fury chuckled. "Howard would have argued with that."
"Yes, he would, and his son isn't any better, I learned."
They laughed, Peggy moving closer and Fury standing, walking around, and pulling out the chair.
"Still the gentleman."
"A giving," he parroted.
He took his seat, ignoring the carbon copy of his older friend who stood at the door.
"How many know about him." He asked, referring to her earlier greeting.
"Them, plural, there is two, and just me and now my niece; this isn't a threat, Colonel, but a cautionary action; don't use my blood to rope me in again, do we understand."
Fury locked on her, his single eye storming, but he nodded.
"I'm sorry I allowed my better judgment to get the better of me.."
Peggy sighed.
"Nicholas, I'm not some young agent any more; I know it wasn't you; it was him, wasn't it, Pierce? He was always far too self-important for my liking."
"Secretary Pierce, now."
She waved it off. "I'm a Democrat; I wouldn't dare give those psychopaths my vote."
The two super spies traded words, undertones, and occasionally barbs as they felt each other out. Sharon's eyes enlarged, and her nape prickled as the two sparred; she had heated about Aunt Peggy, but seeing the woman not only back the director's fury down but also unearth secrets that she knew she would be sworn to secrecy against spoiling was awe-inspiring.
'Another day of tests.' Steve Rogers thought as he was ushered into the training room.
"Let's start with a little run," the cute blonde doctor said. He smiled and nodded. In the back of his mind, he noted he was being manipulated. Somehow, his handlers were mostly young women, obviously single and military.
"Still the same, just different century." He mumbled under his breath.
"Come again, hon." The brunette said, a geneticist; he chuckled and flashed a smile that made the women blush.
He stepped onto the machine, and they connected all equipment to him. He went along with it. They wanted to make sure he wasn't injured or would suffer from a delayed illness that had been frozen for all those years. In truth, they wanted what made him a Super-Soldier. The serum that ran through his vein was the last of its kind; at least, that's what they suspected, but he had his suspicion.
According to the machine, he was running at sixty miles per hour; as he pushed himself, his heart thrummed in his chest, and he had sudden bouts of flashbacks.
Bombs exploded around him and his man as they charged the last hold; HYDRA had taken a lot from him, friends, and brothers and had taken more from the world: sons, fathers, and uncles.
He whirled around his leg, impacting the heavy punching bag, sending it skidding across the rails before slamming into the wall and cracking the plaster.
"Sir," a lady in white coat said in shock. "Another." He demanded.
A mortar whistled above; its dealt crescendo a prelude to misery.
"On me, huddle close." He ordered.
The impact reverberated through his body, heat washed over him, and the shouting intensified as those who survived screamed and cried out as their eardrums ruptured.
He endured; he stood amongst the crumbled remains of his squad, the last of the commandos; he pushed from the ground as bullets continued to pepper them, the count's castle before him.
His fists impacted the heavy bag as he worked the equipment in the makeshift lab gym they constructed to test him.
He paused as a shaky hand tapped his shoulder; he grumbled and stretched his arm out; another needled, more tests, more questions, but none offered answers; how had he survived? How had he outlived everyone, Bucky, Howard, gone, pale copies of them in their place? The Agent was nice, but she was fulfilling a mission, an order; Peggy was out there; she must hate him; he hadn't aged, and now he returned while she lived her life, had a family, and moved on for him.
He drew his arm back and screamed, and the bag filled with titanium balls and sand exploded around him.
"Captain!" A voice shouted, drawing his attention.
He turned. People were gawking, and he had forgotten how others looked at him. He focused on the man he vividly recognized—his old commander, who hadn't aged.
'Serum?' He thought. 'It had to be.'
"Director," he said smartly, standing at attention. This man commanded the commandos all those years ago, but it was yesterday to him, though.
Fury observed him minutely before nodding slowly.
"If you're done tearing up unites states government's state-of-the-art equipment, why don't you take a walk with me."
He said it was almost an order but worded it well and kept his face impassive.
Steve squinted, about to respond, but a woman entered the room.
"I'm not that old, Colonel," said the familiar voice. A withered hand tapped the director's arm, and he reluctantly moved.
His eyes shot to her, and his mouth closed.
"Steve Rogers, still a beautiful man." Peggy declared.
"Peggy," he moved, his arms wrapped around her, and he spun her around. The memories, the sensation—it all came rushing back.
Her eyes misted, and she placed them on his face.
"Oh, Steve, I've longed for this day."
Astrid looked at him expectantly. Cole, realizing what she wanted, extended his hand. She accepted. He inspected her, observing her defined curves and overlaying that information with her comic version.
Her clothes changed, and she was now outfitted in a sleek blue form-fitting Kevlar-polymer material, a Cat woman suit.
Astrid looked down at herself and then admired her reflection with praising head nods.
"Quite the eye for detail." She praised.
Joseph grumbled, hefted his duffle bag, and entered a convenient bathroom. He caused a commotion as he parted the crowds, trying not to stare at the young CEO and the obvious talk of the hour, Astrid.
Hammerhead soon returned. Cole gave the man a measured glance. With their super-soldier serums, they were far stronger than their comic counterparts. Hammerhead, a 2-6 ton bruiser, was easily in the 10-20 range now; he was the physically strongest outside of himself.
"Just who are you?" He asked.
"Someone who wants those that I suffer to pay."