1943
The streets of Brooklyn bustled with activity as kids chased after each other, vendors sold hot dogs on the corners, and the looming shadow of war filled every conversation. Among the crowd, Steve Rogers — scrawny, asthmatic, but determined — trudged through a narrow alley, his best friend Bucky Barnes at his side.
"Steve, you can't keep doing this," Bucky said with a mix of exasperation and concern. "You're not exactly built to throw punches."
Steve, his hands shoved into his jacket, stared ahead with a stubborn glint in his eye. "It doesn't matter. I don't like bullies. I don't care where they're from."
Bucky sighed, shaking his head. "You're gonna get yourself killed one of these days. Look, just—" he grabbed Steve's shoulder, stopping him— "let the army handle it. We'll do our part. I'll do my part."
Steve turned, frowning. "It's not enough, Buck. I've got to try."
Inside a small, crowded room plastered with "We Want You" posters, Steve sat across from a recruiter, nervous but resolute. The man raised an eyebrow, glancing at Steve's application.
"Asthma? Heart issues? Underweight? Son, the army's got standards."
Steve's jaw tightened. "I just need a chance, sir."
The recruiter sighed, stamping REJECTED on Steve's file.
Later that evening, Bucky found Steve outside, slumped on a bench. "C'mon, pal. Let's grab a drink. You can't keep banging your head against the wall."
Steve shook his head. "It's not over yet."
*
A few weeks later, Steve stood in a sterile room alongside Peggy Carter, the confident and no-nonsense British officer, and Dr. Abraham Erskine, the man behind Project Rebirth. Steve's eyes darted nervously around the room as technicians bustled, preparing a large chamber connected to a series of glowing tubes.
Dr. Erskine placed a reassuring hand on Steve's shoulder. "You have something many men do not, Mr. Rogers — the heart of a hero. This serum will make you stronger, yes. But it's your courage that will make you great."
Peggy nodded in agreement, giving Steve a small, encouraging smile. "Good luck, Captain."
Steve swallowed hard but gave a determined nod.
He entered the chamber, strapping in as the machines whirred to life. The serum coursed through his veins, and Steve gritted his teeth, muscles straining against the heat and pain that engulfed him. Then silence.
When the chamber opened, the scrawny boy from Brooklyn was gone. In his place stood a taller, broader Steve Rogers — Captain America.
*
In the weeks following the transformation, Steve was thrust into a whirlwind of propaganda posters, war bond rallies, and staged performances. They dressed him in red, white, and blue tights, handed him a shield, and told him to "punch Hitler" on stage for cheering crowds.
But Steve wanted more. "I didn't sign up to be a dancing monkey," he argued to Peggy and Colonel Phillips.
His chance came soon enough. Armed with his vibranium shield and unshakable resolve, Captain America led missions against Hydra across Europe. He wasn't alone. Bucky Barnes, now a sergeant, often fought by his side, their bond growing stronger with each battle.
*
On a cold battlefield in Eastern Europe, Captain America smashed through the Hydra defenses, shield deflecting bullets as explosions erupted around him. Bucky followed closely, barking orders to a small team of soldiers.
"Barnes! Cover me!" Steve yelled, sprinting toward a Hydra tank.
"On it!" Bucky fired several rounds, forcing the Hydra operatives to take cover.
Steve leaped atop the tank, shoving his shield into the gears to disable it. But as the dust settled, he caught a blur in the corner of his eye — someone moving fast, too fast.
The figure darted between Hydra soldiers, sending them flying with incredible speed. Within seconds, the battlefield fell silent.
Steve raised his shield defensively as the stranger slowed to a halt. It was a man — wiry, sharp-featured, and dressed in a tattered uniform. He smirked, brushing dust from his sleeves.
"Who are you?" Steve demanded.
"Name's Robert Frank," the man said, grinning. "But folks call me Whizzer. You looked like you could use a hand."
Steve stared at him warily, noting the man's unnatural speed. "How… how did you—?"
"No time for details, Captain," Whizzer interrupted. "Hydra's regrouping, and trust me — you're gonna want me on your side."
Before Steve could respond, Bucky jogged up, panting. "Steve! Who's this guy?"
Whizzer turned to Bucky with a grin. "The guy who just saved your butts."
Bucky frowned. "Yeah? Well, let's see if you can keep up, Whizzer."
Steve hesitated for a moment before lowering his shield. "Alright, Frank. Let's finish this."
*
The wind howled as Steve Rogers, now flanked by Robert Frank, alias Whizzer, and Bucky Barnes, crouched behind the remnants of a crumbling stone wall. Smoke lingered from the earlier skirmish, but the Hydra troops ahead were regrouping, their menacing silhouettes visible through the haze.
"Frank, you sure about this?" Steve asked, his shield at the ready.
Whizzer smirked, peering around the corner. "You got any other guys who can run circles around Hydra before breakfast?"
"Steve," Bucky muttered, nudging him, "I still don't trust him. He could be leading us into a trap."
Steve met Bucky's eyes, steady and resolute. "I trust actions, not words. He saved us back there. Let's give him a chance."
Whizzer clapped his hands together with a grin. "That's the spirit, Cap! Now, here's what I'll do. I'll distract those Hydra goons while you and your buddy take out their supply trucks. Sound good?"
Before Steve could respond, Whizzer was already gone — a blur of motion tearing through the camp. Gunfire erupted as confused Hydra soldiers shouted in German, their bullets uselessly chasing shadows.
"Now, Buck!" Steve commanded, vaulting over the wall. He sprinted forward with Bucky close behind, shield raised as they charged into the chaos.
Steve smashed through a Hydra guard with his shield, sending the man sprawling. "Get to the trucks, Bucky! I'll cover you."
"On it!" Bucky sprinted ahead, ducking under cover as bullets whizzed past.
Hydra operatives scrambled, trying to hold their positions, but Whizzer's speed made them easy targets. He darted past Steve, skidding to a halt beside him.
"See?" Whizzer said with a grin. "Told you I'm good in a fight."
Steve shook his head, half impressed, half annoyed. "Stop showing off, Frank."
Whizzer shrugged. "Can't help it."
As they spoke, a loud BOOM erupted nearby — a Hydra tank had rolled into position, its turret swinging to target them. Steve pulled Whizzer to the ground just as the blast tore through a nearby tent.
"That tank's gonna tear us apart!" Whizzer shouted.
Steve adjusted his shield. "Not if I can help it."
Before Whizzer could argue, Steve charged toward the tank, using debris as cover. Bullets ricocheted off his shield as he leapt atop the metal beast, smashing his shield against the hatch.
"Get out of there!" he shouted, prying it open.
A Hydra soldier emerged, only to be yanked out and thrown aside. Steve dropped a grenade inside the tank before jumping off, landing with a heavy thud just as the machine exploded.
Bucky ran up, breathing hard. "Nice timing, Steve."
"Not done yet," Steve replied, scanning the battlefield. "Where's Whizzer?"
As if on cue, Whizzer appeared beside them, barely out of breath. "Miss me? I cleared out their comms tent. They won't be calling for reinforcements."
Steve nodded. "Good work. Now let's finish the job."
*
With the camp nearly secured, the trio moved toward the remaining Hydra forces. Whizzer's confidence was undeniable, but Steve remained cautious, observing him as they fought side by side. This man — whoever he really was — could be a dangerous ally or an unpredictable wild card.
As they approached a final bunker, a lone Hydra soldier burst out, firing wildly. Whizzer dashed forward, disarming him in seconds, but a sharp crack rang out from behind them. A stray bullet narrowly missed Whizzer, and the trio turned to see a woman standing calmly in the distance, a pistol still smoking in her hand.
She stepped forward, a confident smirk on her face. Her red gloves and fitted trench coat gave her an air of sophistication amidst the chaos of war. Blonde curls framed her sharp features.
"Looks like you boys are having all the fun," she said in a smooth voice.
Steve raised his shield defensively. "Who are you?"
"Louise Mason," she replied, holstering her pistol. "But most people know me as Blonde Phantom. You can thank me later for saving your friend's life."
Whizzer grinned, clapping her on the shoulder. "Louise! You made it!"
"You know her?" Steve asked sharply.
"Sure do," Whizzer replied. "She's one of the best. And trust me, Cap, you'll want her around."
Blonde Phantom tilted her head toward Steve. "Captain America, right? I've heard about you. Nice shield."
Steve hesitated, lowering his guard slightly. "You two seem to know each other."
Whizzer shrugged. "Long story. Let's just say we've crossed paths before."
Bucky stepped forward, suspicious. "And what are you doing here, lady?"
Blonde Phantom narrowed her eyes. "Hunting Hydra. Same as you. Let's skip the interrogation — I can help."
Steve glanced at the battlefield around them, the Hydra forces all but scattered. "We'll talk later. For now, let's make sure this camp is secure."
As the sun began to set, Steve, Bucky, Whizzer, and Blonde Phantom regrouped near the Hydra supply trucks. The camp was silent now, the last of the Hydra operatives either captured or fled.
Steve stood with his arms crossed, facing the two newcomers. "Alright, Frank, Mason. I appreciate the help, but I need answers. Who are you really? And why are you fighting Hydra?"
Whizzer exchanged a glance with Blonde Phantom before stepping forward. "I'll tell you, Cap. But it's a long story. Let's just say… we've been fighting this war in our own way. And trust me — you're gonna want us on your team."
Steve stared at him, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he nodded. "We'll see about that."
Blonde Phantom smirked. "Well, aren't you a tough nut to crack."
Bucky leaned over to Steve, whispering, "I still don't trust them."
Steve sighed, his gaze lingering on Whizzer and Blonde Phantom. "Me neither, Buck. But for now, they're all we've got."
The group had taken refuge in a quiet clearing as night draped over the battlefield. The air was still heavy with smoke, and the faint sound of distant artillery could be heard. Steve Rogers sat with his shield beside him, knees bent, while Bucky Barnes kept a sharp eye on their surroundings. Across from them sat Whizzer, always restless, and Blonde Phantom, leaning coolly against a tree, her crimson gloves catching the flicker of the fire.
The silence weighed on them all. It was Blonde Phantom who finally broke it.
"Captain, you're a quiet one, aren't you?" Louise Mason teased, a sly smirk tugging at her lips.
Steve looked up from the fire, his blue eyes steady. "Quiet doesn't mean unthinking."
"Or untrusting," Bucky added pointedly, shooting a look at Whizzer and Blonde Phantom.
"Hey, I've been nothing but helpful, pal," Whizzer shot back, brushing dust off his boots. "It's not like I'm asking for a medal or anything."
"Enough," Steve said firmly. He glanced at Whizzer. "You move faster than anything I've ever seen. What's your story?"
Whizzer leaned back with a grin. "Since you asked… My real name's Robert Frank. I wasn't always this fast, you know. During a little 'vacation' with my dad in the African jungle, I ran into some trouble—poisonous snakebite. My old man gave me a transfusion using mongoose blood—don't ask—and next thing I knew, I could run faster than a bullet. Turns out, the blood did something to me. Made me… different."
Steve raised an eyebrow. "Mongoose blood?"
Whizzer shrugged. "Weird, I know. But here I am."
"Why fight Hydra?" Steve pressed.
Whizzer's grin faded slightly. "Because Hydra doesn't care who they trample. I lost friends, family, a home—same as everyone else. Running away isn't really an option anymore."
Steve considered him for a moment, then turned to Blonde Phantom. "And you?"
Louise Mason tilted her head, her expression more guarded. "I'm Louise Grant Mason. Before the war, I worked as a secretary for a private detective back home in New York. Got tired of watching people suffer while crooks ran free, so I learned to fight back. Turns out, I'm a decent shot. Hydra picked the wrong war to start."
Bucky, still skeptical, spoke up. "So, what? You just put on gloves and decided to become a vigilante?"
Blonde Phantom's sharp gaze turned to him. "You'd be surprised what a little determination can do, soldier boy. Not everyone needs a serum to make a difference."
Steve nodded slowly. "Sometimes it's the ordinary people who show the most extraordinary courage."
Louise's expression softened, though she quickly masked it with her usual cool demeanor. "Captain America gets it."
As the fire crackled between them, Steve unrolled a worn map of Eastern Europe. He pointed to a region just north of their position.
"This camp was just a piece of Hydra's operation. Intel suggests they've been moving resources to a factory here—hidden in the mountains. We need to destroy it before they can mass-produce their weapons."
Whizzer whistled. "You don't aim small, do you, Cap?"
"We can't afford to," Steve replied, looking up. "Hydra's growing stronger every day. We need to hit them hard."
Bucky leaned closer, scanning the map. "How many soldiers are we talking about?"
"Enough to make it a suicide mission," Blonde Phantom muttered.
"That's why we'll need a plan," Steve said firmly. "We'll divide their forces, destroy their supply lines, and hit the factory before they can regroup."
Whizzer cracked his knuckles. "Divide and conquer. I like it. Fast and messy."
"You just focus on the 'fast,'" Bucky grumbled.
Louise smirked, her gaze lingering on Steve. "You've got that commander's tone down to an art, Rogers. Where'd you learn to lead like that?"
Steve's expression grew solemn. "I didn't. I just… try to do what's right. I've had people believe in me when no one else would, and I don't plan on letting them down."
For a brief moment, no one spoke. Whizzer cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Well, Captain, if you're leading this crazy operation, I'm in."
Louise nodded. "Me too. Someone's gotta keep you boys out of trouble."
Bucky glanced at Steve. "I still don't like it. But if they're fighting Hydra, that's good enough for me."
Steve gave a small, determined smile. "Then we move at dawn."
*
Later that night, Steve and Bucky sat away from the fire, the stars barely visible through the smoke-covered sky. Bucky adjusted his rifle, his voice low.
"Steve… are you sure about this? About them?"
Steve sighed, running a hand over the rim of his shield. "I don't know, Buck. But we're in a war. And wars have a way of bringing the most unlikely people together."
"Yeah, well… people also get killed," Bucky replied darkly.
Steve looked over at the fire where Whizzer and Blonde Phantom were talking quietly. "They're fighters, Buck. They've been through their own battles. We're all here because we believe in something bigger than ourselves."
Bucky smirked faintly. "You sound like Peggy."
Steve smiled softly. "She'd probably be proud to see us fighting this fight."
Bucky chuckled. "Yeah, if you don't get yourself killed first."
"Not today," Steve said firmly, standing up. He clapped Bucky on the shoulder. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we take the fight to Hydra."
As Steve walked back toward the fire, Bucky watched him for a moment before shaking his head with a faint smile. "You really don't know how to quit, do you, pal?"
Steve didn't answer, his eyes focused ahead — on tomorrow's mission, on Hydra, and on the team of misfits fate had thrust into his path.
*
The horizon glowed faintly with the first hint of dawn. Steve Rogers crouched behind a ridge, binoculars in hand, as he scanned the road below. A Hydra convoy—three trucks with armed escorts—rumbled across the muddy path, carrying crucial supplies to the mountain factory.
Whizzer stood next to him, jittery as usual, shifting his weight like he couldn't sit still. "We're really doing this, huh?"
Steve lowered the binoculars and nodded. "We hit them hard, stop those supplies from reaching the factory. Hydra doesn't get reinforcements."
Blonde Phantom loaded her twin pistols with a calm precision. "How many men do you count, Rogers?"
"Twenty. Maybe more." Steve stood, shield in hand. "We'll need a distraction. Whizzer?"
Robert Frank grinned, stretching his legs. "I thought you'd never ask."
Steve gave him a steady look. "Don't get reckless. This only works if we stay coordinated."
Whizzer saluted mockingly. "Fast, not stupid. Got it, Cap."
Bucky slung his rifle over his shoulder, turning to Blonde Phantom. "Stick close. If you get into trouble—"
"I can handle myself, Barnes," Louise cut in smoothly, smirking. "But you're sweet to worry."
Bucky rolled his eyes. "You'll be thanking me later."
Steve raised his hand, signaling them to get into position. "On my mark. Whizzer, you draw their fire. The rest of us will take out the guards and disable the trucks."
"Let's go," Bucky muttered, sliding down the muddy slope toward the convoy.
The Hydra soldiers barely had time to react.
A blur shot through the convoy—Whizzer. He tore through the ranks like lightning, grabbing weapons, scattering supplies, and disorienting the guards. The sharp crack of Blonde Phantom's pistols followed, taking out stragglers with precise shots.
"Move!" Steve shouted, charging in with his shield raised. Bullets bounced harmlessly off the vibranium as he plowed through Hydra's front line. With a swift throw, his shield knocked out three soldiers before ricocheting back to his arm.
Bucky covered him from a distance, his rifle echoing across the valley. "Keep pushing forward!"
Hydra soldiers scrambled for cover, shouting orders in German. One soldier yelled, "Der Schildträger! Feuer!"
Steve spun his shield defensively, blocking a burst of gunfire. "Whizzer, get to the trucks!"
"On it!" Whizzer called back, darting past a Hydra soldier and wrenching the steering wheel of the first truck. The vehicle skidded wildly before slamming into a tree.
Blonde Phantom moved alongside Steve, taking cover behind a wrecked jeep. "Your friend's going to get himself killed."
Steve smiled faintly. "He's faster than he looks."
More Hydra reinforcements poured from the second truck. Bucky jumped down from his position, rifle discarded as he drew his sidearm and engaged in close quarters.
"Too many of them!" Bucky shouted.
Steve nodded, slamming his shield into a Hydra soldier's chest and sending him sprawling. "Keep fighting! We hold this ground!"
Suddenly, a mechanical whirring filled the air—a Hydra machine gun mounted on the final truck turned its barrel toward them.
"Get down!" Steve shouted, diving forward. Bullets peppered the ground, kicking up dirt and debris.
Whizzer skidded to a halt next to Steve, panting. "Cap! We're pinned! That truck's gonna tear us apart!"
Steve's mind raced. "We need to take out that gun. Whizzer, can you get close enough?"
"Close enough?" Whizzer smirked. "Watch me."
Before Steve could argue, Whizzer bolted forward. The machine gun's barrel swung after him, firing wildly as Whizzer zigzagged toward the truck in a blur of speed.
"Come on, Robert," Steve murmured under his breath.
Whizzer reached the truck, leaping onto the hood in one fluid motion. He ripped the machine gun's mount free with a strained grunt, the weapon crashing to the ground.
"Showoff!" Bucky called from a distance, firing at the scattered Hydra forces.
Blonde Phantom tossed Steve a grenade she'd snagged earlier. "Make it count, Captain."
Steve pulled the pin and hurled it toward the supply truck. The explosion rocked the convoy, flames erupting into the sky as Hydra's remaining forces retreated.
The battlefield went quiet.
Steve stood amidst the wreckage, his shield still smoking from the fight. Bucky joined him, leaning heavily on his rifle. "That wasn't half bad, Cap."
Steve looked around, finding Whizzer sitting on the ground, panting and grinning. "I'm alive, aren't I?"
"You took a big risk out there," Steve said, offering him a hand. Whizzer took it, pulling himself up.
"Big risks, big rewards," Robert replied with a shrug. "Besides, you needed a hero."
Blonde Phantom approached, dusting ash off her jacket. "We pulled it off. But that was just the warm-up, wasn't it?"
Steve nodded grimly, looking toward the mountains in the distance. "Hydra won't stop here. We need to keep moving. If we don't, more people are going to die."
Bucky stepped forward. "So what's the plan, Cap?"
Steve looked at his team—the speedster who never stopped moving, the sharpshooter with a sharp tongue, and his best friend who'd been by his side through it all. It wasn't the team he'd envisioned, but it was the team fate had given him.
"We take the fight to them," Steve said, his voice resolute. "And we don't stop until Hydra's done for good."
The battlefield lay silent, smoke curling into the gray sky. The wreckage of Hydra's convoy smoldered, and the acrid stench of burnt fuel lingered. Steve Rogers stood at the center of the devastation, shield on his arm, watching the last Hydra survivors vanish into the distant hills.
Blonde Phantom holstered her pistols as she walked up beside him. "They'll regroup," she said matter-of-factly. "They always do."
Steve nodded, his blue eyes fixed on the horizon. "Not if we stop them first."
Whizzer stretched his legs nearby, flicking ash off his tattered jacket. "Not to ruin the moment, but are we done yet? Because I'm starving."
Bucky appeared with a canteen slung over his shoulder, rifle resting at his side. "You're always hungry, Robert."
"Running fast burns a lot of calories!" Whizzer shot back, grinning as he ran a hand through his messy hair. "Maybe you'd run faster if you ate more too."
Bucky smirked. "I'd rather not look like a hummingbird, thanks."
Steve turned to the group, smiling faintly at their banter. For a moment, they weren't soldiers; they were just people—battered, bruised, but alive. "We'll move out soon," Steve said. "But first, we rest. Hydra's going to come back with more, and we'll need our strength."
Blonde Phantom leaned against a jeep, crossing her arms. "You're really something, Rogers. I've worked with a lot of soldiers before, but none quite like you."
Steve shook his head humbly. "I'm just doing my part."
"No," she said firmly, studying him. "You're leading. And it's not something everyone can do."
As night fell, the makeshift camp came alive with the faint crackle of fire. The team sat in a loose circle, the flames casting long shadows.
Steve took the first watch, shield resting beside him. Bucky sat nearby, sharpening his knife in silence. Whizzer, unable to sit still, juggled pebbles in the flickering light, while Blonde Phantom leaned back against a supply crate, watching them.
"Hey, Cap," Whizzer broke the silence, tossing a pebble into the fire. "Tell me something. You ever think about… what happens when all this is over?"
Steve glanced up, his brow furrowing. "Over?"
"Yeah, you know—the war." Whizzer gestured vaguely. "We win, Hydra's gone, what happens then? You hang up the shield and settle down?"
Steve's expression softened as he stared into the fire. "I don't know. I guess I haven't thought that far ahead."
Bucky chimed in without looking up from his knife. "He'll finally get that dance with Peggy."
Steve's jaw twitched into a faint smile. "Maybe."
Blonde Phantom raised a brow. "Peggy? Who's Peggy?"
"His girl," Bucky said, smirking. "A dame who makes the rest of us look like we're punching above our weight."
Steve shot Bucky a look, though it lacked any real reprimand. "Peggy's… special. But right now, the fight comes first."
The fire crackled between them, filling the silence.
*
Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots approached the camp, and everyone tensed. Steve stood immediately, shield in hand. "Who's there?"
A soldier emerged from the shadows, clutching a bloodstained satchel. "Captain Rogers," he panted, stumbling forward. "It's urgent."
Steve rushed to steady him, lowering him to a crate. "What happened? Who sent you?"
The soldier coughed, struggling to catch his breath. "Intel… Hydra's mobilizing. They've got a facility deep in the mountains, a stronghold. Supplies, weapons… and something else."
Steve's eyes narrowed. "What else?"
The soldier pulled a crumpled map from the satchel, spreading it out in the firelight. "We intercepted reports of a weapon—something the Red Skull himself is guarding."
Bucky cursed under his breath. "If Skull's involved, this isn't just another mission."
Steve studied the map carefully. The Hydra stronghold loomed like a dark stain, deep within enemy territory. "We can't ignore this," Steve said, his voice firm. "If Red Skull's there, we need to stop him."
Whizzer groaned theatrically. "Great. Another suicide mission."
Steve glanced up, his expression calm but resolute. "I'm not asking you to come."
Whizzer blinked, surprised. "What? And let you fight Hydra alone? No way, Cap. I'm in."
Blonde Phantom smirked. "It's not like I have anywhere better to be."
Bucky simply shrugged. "You know I'm with you, Steve."
Steve looked around the group—this ragtag band of misfits who had somehow become a team. His voice carried the weight of leadership as he spoke. "Then get ready. Tomorrow, we move. Hydra's expecting us to fail, but we're going to hit them where it hurts. Together."
Bucky grinned, clapping Steve on the shoulder. "Lead the way, Captain."
As the fire crackled into embers, Steve stepped away from the group, staring up at the stars. Bucky followed, his tone softer. "You good, pal?"
Steve nodded, though his gaze remained distant. "I just keep thinking about what this fight means. If we don't stop Hydra now, they'll spread across the world."
Bucky leaned against a tree, arms crossed. "We'll stop them. You'll stop them."
Steve sighed, looking at his shield. "I hope so, Buck. I really do."
From the shadows of the camp, Blonde Phantom watched Steve silently, her eyes narrowing as if piecing him together. Whizzer lay sprawled on the ground nearby, already snoring lightly, his exhaustion finally catching up.
As dawn broke on the horizon, the team prepared to move, unaware of the horrors and sacrifices waiting for them deep within Hydra's mountain stronghold.
To Be Continued...