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Chapter 118: Rebirth Project
A few days later, in Dr. Erskine's bedroom at Kaufman Castle.
Schmidt took off his gloves and casually flipped through several pages of data records on the desk.
"Did you find him?" Schmidt asked.
"Not yet, Officer," the HYDRA soldier at the door replied.
Schmidt didn't bother looking at the soldier and headed straight to the main hall of the castle. In the middle of the hall stood a group of people, consisting of the original castle guards and all the servants.
Schmidt glanced at the soldiers below from the steps, then put on his gloves and walked directly toward the castle entrance.
Upon reaching the entrance, Schmidt raised his right hand and waved. Behind him, gunfire eruptedâsharp, short bursts, and screams followed.
"Take all the data back for thorough research, and find him for me."
"Yes, Officer!"
Schmidt boarded the car, and the convoy drove out of the mountains.
Meanwhile, Carter and Dr. Erskine's group, after many transfers, finally reached New York. Most of Europe had fallen, and only the United Statesâstill neutralâcould provide a secure research environment.
Whatever the arrangements had been, they successfully brought Dr. Abraham Erskine to safety. One of the side deals included Carter remaining in the U.S. as a liaison. She would later join the Strategic Scientific Reserve alongside Erskine.
"Welcome, Dr. Erskine, welcome," Colonel Phillips greeted, shaking the doctor's hand.
"Thank you for saving me. Can you tell me where my family is?" Erskine asked.
"I'm very sorry. We haven't found any trace of them," Phillips said. His expression gave away more than his words.
"Understood," Erskine replied. He didn't push. He'd asked the same thing when Carter first rescued him. When she didn't answer, he knew the truth; today's question was for confirmation.
"Dr. Erskine, our Strategic Scientific Reserve exists to combat Schmidt and his HYDRA organization, and we need you."
"I understand. I'll resume my research on the Super Soldier Serum and improve it. I will help you defeat Schmidt."
"Good. The military has launched a Rebirth Project, designed to produce Super Soldiers on a wide scale. You'll lead it," Phillips said, before turning as Howard Stark entered the room. "This is Mr. Howard Stark. He's worked on human radiation enhancementâhis research could be useful to your serum."
Howard nodded. "Doctor. We'll get along just fineâas long as nobody dies during trials."
And so, the next phase of research began.
Meanwhile, across the cityâ
"Boss, Dr. Erskine has arrived in New York and joined the Reserve," a voice reported.
"Good. Don't follow him anymore," George said calmly.
"Yes, Boss."
George ended the call. Yui and Alice entered the room together, with a fruit plate between them.
"What's got you smiling?" Alice teased, dropping a grape into George's mouth.
"An old friend's back in town. Just caught up. Didn't you two have plans today?"
"We did. Yui helped me at the library. Then we shopped a little," Alice said, glancing at Yui, who only grinned and raised an eyebrow.
George smiled. It wasn't just affection anymoreâit was familiarity, comfort, and understanding. The three of them weren't just pretending anymore. Not after everything they'd been through.
"You two are plotting something. I can feel it."
"Maybe," Yui said casually. "Maybe we're planning a busy night."
George leaned back.
"Alright. I'll have the company contact Britain. Let's make things easier for the kids."
The next morning, he phoned Paul. They arranged to contact Churchill. George offered discounted supplies, conditional on favorable postwar dividends.
After business, George visited his underground lab. Above him, a huge aircraft frame hung. Inspired by blueprints found in Batman's lair and forged with original Adamantium, George had begun building the Flying Fox himself.
It had three layers. The bottom was a cargo hold big enough for three Batmobiles. The second layer housed systems and servers. The top, the cockpit. All are visible across the floors.
Alchemy and enchantment would be part of the final build.
It was a pet project. Where others built cars, George built sky-fortresses.
Separately, George had arranged treatment for Steve Rogers' mother, giving her a nursing job and housing. No orphanage this time.
"Hey, Steve, wanna catch a baseball game?" Bucky asked.
"Sure. But you're buying snacks today."
Steve was sickly but sharp, thin but grounded. Despite working part-time jobs, he'd always stayed cheerful.
At Ebbets Field, May 1941:
"Another pitch! High foul ball! Score tied, 4-4! Bases loaded! Swingâfly ballâReiser to third! Dodgers lead 8-4!"
The stadium erupted.
Steve and Bucky cheered from their seats.
"Today's game is sponsored by George Orwell SwentâDodgers' new owner! Everyone here gets two burgers and a cola! Or a beer, for the grown-ups!"
The crowd roared. Eyes turned toward the grandstand where George stood.
"That's him, Bucky! That's Mr. Swent!"
"Yeah, yeah, your family's big savior," Bucky muttered.
"Show some respect!" Steve laughed, elbowing him.
As the game ended, Steve spotted a newspaper on the ground. The headline showed scenes from Europeâsoldiers, ruins, fire.
Bucky saw his face drop and pulled him away. "Come on. That's not our fight."
America was still safe. For now.
November 20, 1941
"Boss, intel from our man inside the Japanese army. They've finalized the Pearl Harbor plan. No exact date yet. But there's a word that other scouts are snooping around their base."
"Alright. Stay on the date. Ignore the rest. They're not your concern."
"Yes, Boss."
George lit a cigar and took a slow draw.
Pearl Harbor had long fascinated him.
In his past life, there were two theories: one, that Japan's attack was a surprise; two, that it was allowed to happen. A conspiracy.
The second theory never quite died. Too many signs. The sudden surplus of medics at the base. The canceled holidays. Fighters relocated. Bombers lined up neatly on runways like museum pieces.
But this time? George didn't leave it to chance. He'd spoken to Roosevelt weeks ago. A staged feint. An illusion. Aircraft were pulled, and Civilians were moved. The bunkers were stocked.
When the attack came, it would hit mostly empty shells.
The headlines would report horror. But those 2,200 names on the official record? Those were ghosts, not corpses.
The real men were already underground, moving quietly under the cover of midnight drills and "maintenance exercises."
America needed the fury, and Roosevelt needed the excuse.
And George? George gave it to him.
On December 7, 1941, the Japanese Navy launched its "surprise" attack on Pearl Harbor. 354 aircraft in two waves. 188 American planes destroyed. Twenty ships were damaged.
But beneath the surface, the survivors were already waiting.
And above it all, George stood quietly.
"Let's begin."
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