As the lead truck passed their position, Steve made his move. A running leap carried him into the back of the last vehicle, where he landed with a soft thud on the wooden floor.
"Fellas," Steve said cheerfully to the two HYDRA soldiers sitting inside.
The guards looked at each other, then back at Steve, then at each other again. One of them pointed at Steve's outfit. The other shrugged. The first one gestured at Steve's shield. The second one tilted his head like a confused dog.
"Amerikanischer Superheld?" the first guard asked uncertainly.
"Ja, das ist Captain America," the second one replied with the tone of someone stating the obvious.
"Aber warum ist er hier?"
"Keine Ahnung."
They sat there for another few seconds, processing this information while Steve waited patiently.
"Oh shit," the first guard said in heavily accented English as realization finally dawned.
"Yeah," Steve agreed. "Oh shit."
Diana gracefully flipped into the truck behind Steve. The guards' eyes went even wider.
"And who is she supposed to be?" the first guard asked.
"I have no idea," the second one replied, "but she has a very large sword."
Alan landed next, his ring glowing green. Then Jay blurred in so fast he was just a streak of motion. Jim dropped down with flames wreathing his hands. Azzuri and Amaya flowed in like deadly shadows.
The two guards looked around at the seven superhumans now crowding their truck, then looked at each other one final time.
"We should probably run," the first guard suggested.
"Where exactly would we go?" the second one asked, gesturing at the cramped truck bed. "It's not like we can just jump out while we're moving."
"Good point."
They both reached for their weapons at the same time.
Steve slammed his shield into the first guard's face. Diana grabbed the second guard and drove her knee into his stomach. As he doubled over, Azzuri chopped him across the back of the neck with surgical precision. Alan created a green mallet and bonked the first guard on the head as he tried to get up. Jim grabbed both unconscious guards while Jay blurred around, tying them up with their own belts.
"Fuck you, you Nazi pieces of shit," Jay spat as he finished securing the restraints.
Amaya calmly stuffed rags in their mouths. "They'll wake up in a few hours with splitting headaches."
Jay grabbed both guards by their belts and blurred to the back of the truck, tossing them out onto the road where they landed in a pile of pine needles.
"Think they'll be okay?" Jim asked.
"They'll live," Steve replied grimly. "More than they deserve."
Steve found a couple of HYDRA helmets and tossed them to Azzuri and Amaya. "Disguises. Just in case."
"Do I look like a Nazi?" Azzuri asked, examining the helmet with obvious distaste.
"You look like whatever keeps us from getting shot," Steve replied pragmatically.
They settled in among the crates and supply boxes, pulling tarps and equipment over themselves as the truck convoy approached the facility gates. Through the canvas covering, they could hear German voices and the sound of checkpoints being cleared.
The truck shuddered to a halt in what sounded like a busy courtyard. Steve held his breath as heavy footsteps approached the rear of the vehicle, followed by voices speaking in rapid German.
"Steady," he whispered to his companions. "Wait for my signal."
A guard's voice called out something about checking the cargo. The sound of latches being released echoed through the truck bed, followed by the scrape of the tailgate being lowered.
Light flooded into the cargo compartment as a HYDRA soldier pulled back the canvas flap, revealing the interior of the truck. His eyes immediately fixed on Steve's red, white, and blue shield, which was propped up against a crate like some kind of patriotic decoration.
The guard opened his mouth to say something, but Steve's shield sprang to life before he could make a sound, slamming into his face with a satisfying THUNK that sent him crashing to the ground unconscious.
"Damn, Steve," Jay whispered appreciatively as they emerged from their hiding spots. "That was smooth."
"Sometimes the classics work best," Steve replied, retrieving his shield. "Everyone out. Now."
The team slipped out of the truck like shadows, with Jay using his speed to scout the immediate area while the others took cover behind nearby supply crates. Steve grabbed the unconscious guard and tossed him into the back of the truck bed, pulling the canvas flap closed to hide the body.
"Clear," Jay whispered, returning from his reconnaissance. "Two guards by the main building, but they're not paying attention."
"Go! Go! Go!" Steve whispered, and they moved as one toward the prison complex.
The real mission had finally begun.
They made their way through the compound with practiced stealth. Diana's Amazon training allowed her to move without sound across any terrain, her footsteps silent even on gravel. Jay blurred ahead in short bursts, disabling security cameras and pressure plates before anyone could notice. When they encountered a patrolling guard, Alan created a small green construct that tapped the man on the shoulder from behind. As he turned to investigate, Azzuri rendered him unconscious with a precise nerve strike.
Jim kept his flames completely extinguished, relying on his enhanced vision to navigate in the darkness. When they needed to cross a floodlit courtyard, Amaya's necklace pulsed with amber light, and suddenly the searchlights seemed to sweep past them without detection, as if they had become invisible to the mechanical eyes.
Azzuri and Amaya moved like apex predators stalking prey, their coordination so perfect it seemed telepathic. When Amaya raised her left hand, Azzuri immediately dropped into a crouch. When Azzuri tilted his head right, Amaya was already moving to cover that angle. Steve found himself impressed by their synchronization. These two had clearly worked together for years.
They reached the prison complex without raising a single alarm. The building was a study in brutal efficiency: rows of cages filled with Allied prisoners of various nationalities, all bearing the gaunt look of men who had been pushed beyond their limits. Guards patrolled the upper catwalks with mechanical precision, their weapons ready but their attention focused outward rather than on the prisoners they assumed were too broken to cause trouble.
Steve spotted familiar faces among the captives and felt his heart surge with both relief and anger. These were good men, soldiers who had volunteered to fight for freedom, reduced to slave labor for HYDRA's war machine.
There was a raised platform above the cages, and a HYDRA guard was pacing back and forth on it with the mechanical precision of someone who'd done this routine a thousand times before. The man was humming softly to himself, completely absorbed in his own little world as he counted his steps. Left, right, left, right, turn around, repeat. His rifle hung loosely on his shoulder, and he paused occasionally to pick at his teeth with a dirty fingernail.
Steve crept up the metal stairs with practiced stealth, his enhanced abilities allowing him to move like a ghost. Diana and the others followed behind him, equally silent. The guard continued his mindless patrol, completely oblivious to the fact that six extraordinarily dangerous individuals were now standing directly behind him.
The guard stopped mid pace and yawned loudly, stretching his arms above his head. "Another boring night in paradise," he muttered in German to no one in particular.
Steve tapped him on the shoulder.
The guard turned around with casual annoyance, probably expecting to see another HYDRA soldier. "Was willst du..." he started to say, then his eyes went wide as he found himself face to face with a man in red, white, and blue holding a circular shield.
"Guten Tag," Steve said pleasantly.
CRACK!
The guard's expression of absolute bewilderment was frozen on his face as Steve's enhanced fist connected with his jaw. He dropped like a sack of potatoes, tumbling off the platform and landing with a loud CLANG on top of the metal cages below, his unconscious body bouncing once before coming to rest spread eagled across the bars.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Every prisoner in the complex craned their necks upward to stare at the unconscious guard who had just fallen from the sky like some sort of defeated piñata. Then, slowly, hundreds of faces turned to look up at the platform where Steve stood with his shield, flanked by what appeared to be a warrior goddess, a man wreathed in flames, someone whose ring was glowing green, and two figures who moved like they could kill a man with their bare hands.
The prisoners stared, stunned. The excitement that had begun to build at the prospect of rescue suddenly died as they took in the bizarre sight above them.
From one of the cages below, a Black soldier in American uniform raised an eyebrow at Steve's outfit and shield, his voice cutting through the silence with sharp skepticism.
"And who the hell are you supposed to be?"
Steve straightened on the catwalk, pulling out the keys he'd taken from the unconscious guards. His voice carried clearly through the prison block as he called down to them.
"I'm... Captain America."
The silence that followed was deafening. Then, from the nearest cage below, a man in British uniform with a distinctive mustache looked up at him with the kind of polite bewilderment that only a British officer could manage.
"I beg your pardon?"
Steve tossed the keys down to Jay, who caught them with lightning reflexes. "Think you can handle the rest?"
Jay grinned up at him. "Watch and learn, Cap."
Jay vanished.
One second he was standing there holding the keys. The next second he was gone. A yellow blur streaked through the prison wing, moving so fast the human eye couldn't track it. Prisoners pressed against their cage bars, heads whipping left and right as they tried to follow the impossible movement.
CLICK. The first lock opened.
CLICK. A second cage door swung wide.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK.
The blur was everywhere at once. Far left cage, back right, center row, upper level, lower level. The speed was inhuman. Doors opened faster than the prisoners could process. Some men stumbled backward in their cells, others gripped the bars harder, all of them staring in shock.
Three seconds. Every lock in the entire wing clicked open simultaneously.
Jay reappeared in the center of the floor, keys dangling from his finger. Not even breathing hard.
Dead silence.
Over four hundred prisoners stood frozen in their now-open cells. No one moved. No one spoke. They stared at Jay like he was some kind of ghost.
The British officer who had questioned Steve's identity stood with his mouth hanging open, his distinguished mustache twitching as he struggled to find words.
"Bloody hell," Falsworth finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Did you just... all of them... in three seconds?"
An American sergeant shook his head slowly. "That ain't possible."
From the back, a French resistance fighter whispered, "Mon Dieu."
Jay twirled the keys around his finger. "Two and a half, actually. But who's counting?"
The other prisoners were emerging from their cells in stunned silence, looking around at each other and then at the impossible team that had just freed them. Diana stepped forward, her armor gleaming in the dim light, the red, white, and blue of her outfit catching every prisoner's attention. Several men stopped mid-step, staring at this warrior goddess who moved with deadly grace.
"My God," one of the British soldiers breathed. "Who is she?"
Jim's hands flickered with controlled flames as he moved to flank the group, the fire dancing around his fingers without burning him. Prisoners backed away instinctively, their eyes wide with disbelief.
"His hands are on fire!" a Canadian private whispered urgently. "How are his hands on fire?"
Alan's ring cast a soft green glow as he raised his hand, the emerald light pulsing with each heartbeat. The mystical radiance made several prisoners cross themselves reflexively.
"That's not possible," muttered a French resistance fighter, staring at the glowing ring. "What kind of weapon is that?"
Azzuri and Amaya moved with the fluid grace of trained warriors, their presence commanding immediate respect from the hardened soldiers. Even without knowing their royal status, the prisoners could sense they were in the presence of something extraordinary.
"We're getting you out of here," Steve said, his voice carrying new authority as he descended from the catwalk.
From one of the cages came the distinctive sound of multiple voices erupting in pure excitement.
"Steve Rogers!" Peter Parker's voice cut through the darkness, filled with disbelief and joy. "Holy shit, is that actually you?"
"Keep it down, Pete," came Ted Knight's voice, though equally excited. "But Christ, Steve, how the hell did you get here?"
Dum Dum Dugan spotted a Japanese American soldier who had already freed himself from his restraints. "What, are we taking everybody?"
"I'm from Fresno, Ace," Jim Morita replied simply, holding up his dog tags and letting it go at that.
Ted Knight stepped forward, his voice carrying the authority of an officer despite his disheveled appearance. "We're all Americans here. And right now, we've all got the same problem—getting out of this place alive."
"Ted's right," Steve said, his voice cutting through any tension with practiced authority. "But first—Peter? Ted? Jesus, it's good to see you both alive."
Peter grinned despite their circumstances. "You too, Steve. Though I gotta say, the outfit's a hell of an improvement over those recruitment office visits."
"The shield's new too," Ted added, studying the red, white, and blue disc with professional interest. "That standard military issue now?"
"It's a long story," Steve replied, then his expression grew serious. "Is there anybody else? I'm looking for a Sergeant James Barnes."
The mood in the group shifted immediately. Falsworth's expression grew grim. "There's an isolation ward in the factory, but no one's ever come back from it."
Steve felt his stomach drop, but he forced himself to focus on the immediate situation. He turned to his team, his voice carrying new authority.
"All right, here's the plan. Diana, Jay, Jim, Alan, Amaya—I need you to help get these men to safety and raise hell with this base. Destroy everything you can."
Diana stepped forward immediately. "No. We go together, Steve. That's why we're here."
"Diana's right," Jay said, his form vibrating with nervous energy. "You're not going in there alone."
"The isolation ward sounds like exactly the kind of place that needs multiple people," Jim added, flames flickering around his hands. "Especially if no one comes back from it."
Alan's ring pulsed with green light. "We're a team, Cap. Teams stick together."
Amaya's voice was quiet but firm. "In my experience, the most dangerous missions require the most trusted allies."
Steve looked at each of them, seeing the determination in their faces. He took a deep breath.
"Listen to me. These men need to get out alive, and this base needs to be destroyed so HYDRA can't use it again. But Bucky might be dying in that isolation ward right now. I can't ask you to split up, but I need to ask you to trust me."
He gestured toward the prisoners who were starting to move toward the exit. "Four hundred men are counting on us to get them home. If we all go to the isolation ward and something goes wrong, they're trapped here. But if you help them escape and tear this place apart, we save everyone."
Diana's jaw clenched, clearly torn between protecting Steve and protecting the prisoners.
"Besides," Steve continued, "Azzuri knows this terrain better than any of us. If anyone can help me navigate whatever they've got in that factory, it's him."
Azzuri stepped forward, his regal bearing evident even in the dim prison light. "Captain Rogers speaks truth. My people have been monitoring HYDRA operations in these mountains for months. I know their security patterns, their weaknesses." He paused, looking at Amaya. "I can guide him safely through whatever they've built in there."
Amaya moved closer to her husband, her voice quiet but firm. "And I know you, my king. You'll take unnecessary risks to protect others. Promise me you won't try to be a hero."
Azzuri's expression softened as he looked at his wife. "Says the woman who insisted on coming to a HYDRA fortress in the first place." He reached out and squeezed her hand. "Be careful out there. These prisoners have been through hell, but they're still soldiers. Don't let your guard down."
"I won't," Amaya replied, then smiled slightly. "Try not to let the outsiders get you killed."
"I'll do my best."
Steve turned back to his team, understanding the weight of what he was asking. "Look, I know this isn't ideal. Diana, you're the strongest fighter here, and frankly, these men are going to need that strength getting to the tree line. There could be patrols, obstacles, who knows what."
Diana's expression showed her internal struggle, but she nodded with the acceptance of a warrior who understood duty. "I don't like splitting up, but you're right. These men have suffered enough." She looked at the liberated prisoners. "I won't let any more harm come to them."
"Jay, you're the only one fast enough to scout ahead and take out any guards before they can raise an alarm. Without you, four hundred men are sitting ducks."
Jay ran a hand through his hair, his form vibrating with nervous energy. "I know, I know. Doesn't mean I have to like leaving you to go into that nightmare factory alone." His vibration steadied as he accepted the mission. "But yeah, I can handle the patrols. Those guards won't know what hit them."
"Jim, those flames of yours can destroy their vehicles, their communications, their supplies. Make sure they can't follow these guys or call for backup."
Jim's synthetic features showed genuine concern as his hands flickered with controlled fire. "Steve, you sure about this? That isolation ward sounds like exactly the kind of place where they'd have their worst experiments." He sighed, flames dancing higher. "But you're right. Someone needs to torch this place. Consider their equipment scrap metal."
"Alan, your constructs can clear obstacles, provide cover, hell, build bridges if you need to. These men are going to need that."
Alan's ring pulsed green as he looked between Steve and the prisoners. "I don't like the idea of you going in there with just backup, but these guys have been through enough hell." His voice grew determined. "I'll get them out, Steve. Every last one of them."
Steve looked at Amaya. "And you've got more tactical experience than the rest of us combined. Someone needs to coordinate all this, make sure everyone gets out alive."
Amaya studied the group of prisoners, her tactical mind already working. "Four hundred men, mixed nationalities, various states of exhaustion and injury. It will be challenging, but manageable." She met Steve's eyes. "I will see them home safely, Captain Rogers. You have my word."
Peter stepped up beside Steve. "Steve, you know I'm coming with you, right? I've been in your corner since Erskine picked us both for the program. I'm not backing down now."
"Pete, this could be really dangerous. More dangerous than anything we've faced."
"And you're going to need someone documenting whatever the hell they're doing in there. That's what I'm trained for." Peter's voice carried the same determination Steve remembered from those early days at Camp Lehigh. "Besides, someone needs to make sure you don't try to be too much of a hero."
Ted moved up to join them, his Signal Corps insignia visible even in the dim light. "I'm with you too, Steve. Been watching you grow into this role since Erskine brought us all together. If there's communications equipment in there, intel we can intercept, I'm your guy." He checked his gear with practiced efficiency. "Plus, let's be honest, you're going to need technical support for whatever they've built in that place."
Steve looked at his assembled friends, old and new, feeling the responsibility of command settling on his shoulders like a physical weight.
"All right then. Tree line is northwest, eighty yards past the gate. Get these men out fast, raise as much hell as you can on the way. We'll rendezvous at the clearing with whoever we find in that isolation ward."
The prisoners had started moving toward the exit in small groups, still glancing back at the extraordinary team that had freed them. As they began to file out, Gabe Jones hung back and grabbed Steve's arm.
"Hold up there, Captain America." Jones studied Steve's face in the dim light. "I got to ask, and don't take this the wrong way, but do you actually know what you're doing here?"
Steve managed a grim smile. "Yeah. I've knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times."
Jones blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. "Come again?"
"War bond shows," Steve explained. "Every night for months, I'd punch out a guy in a Hitler mask. Same routine, eight shows a week." His expression grew more serious. "But Jones, I spent six months getting my ass kicked in back alleys in Brooklyn before this, and three months dancing on stages after. Yesterday I was still just a guy in a costume who'd never been in a real fight." He looked around at his team, then back at Jones. "But tonight? Tonight I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, doing exactly what I was meant to do."
Jones studied him for another moment, then nodded slowly. "All right then. That's good enough for me." He started to turn away, then looked back. "Just... bring everybody home, you hear?"
"That's the plan," Steve replied.
Diana stepped close to Steve as the groups prepared to separate, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Steve Rogers, you listen to me. I didn't come all the way from Themyscira to watch you get yourself killed in some Nazi factory. You promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you'll come back."
Steve met her eyes, seeing the genuine concern there. "I promise, Diana. But you need to promise me something too. Those men out there, they're going to look to you for strength when things get bad. And they will get bad."
"I know," she said simply.
"They're going to need you tonight. Can you be that for them?"
Diana straightened, her warrior's bearing returning. "I can be whatever they need me to be."
"Good. Now go save four hundred men."