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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The first thing I did after getting off the ship was go to the barbershop. Then to the tailor.

Maybe the canon Sabretooth was fine with an uncombed mane on his head, but not me.

A short, neat haircut (upon special request, the barber also worked on my eyebrows, bringing them to a normal, human appearance), a beautiful tailored suit, clean expensive shoes, good posture—and now it's not a highwayman walking along the avenues of Paris, but practically an aristocrat.

Interested glances from ladies, apprehensive ones from men... Pleasant, let Zen wash over me!

Paris is a beautiful city. Many sights, architecture, museums, theaters... banks.

I visited one of the latter, getting rid of the excess weight of captured Chinese silver and becoming the owner of a decent account.

I walked along the banks of the Seine, visited the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, Notre-Dame de Paris... and on my way out, I saw the Sorbonne. And the thought came to me that all my fighting skills in about seventy years...

In short, I need to study, study, and study some more, as comrade Lenin will bequeath in a couple of decades. And I should start right here and now.

Which is what I did, since my finances allowed it.

And so it began. 1920 - biology and medicine at the Sorbonne. 1926 - physics and biochemistry at the Technical University of Munich. 1932 - mathematics at Oxford University in Britain.

But I didn't have time to get a full education in chemistry at the same Oxford. In 1937, I received a letter from my comrade from the Munich Technical University, Abraham Erskine, asking for help.

Abraham, unlike me, was not a "perpetual student". He spent the past years more usefully. He received a professorship in biochemistry and a doctorate in physics. His developments were so grandiose that he even got a meeting with the Reichsführer Adolf Hitler himself.

Actually, this meeting was the reason for his request for help. He did not outline the details in the letter. He just asked to meet with him as soon as possible. And that he would explain everything to me there.

I, a transmigrator, knew very well who Hitler was. And that there were only about two years left until the start of the world war. So his panic seemed more than justified to me.

So in less than a week, I was knocking on the door of his house in Berlin. True, for this I had to illegally and secretly cross two borders, but when has that ever stopped me?

Abraham did not reveal the essence of his research to me even in person, but he explained exactly what he needed my help with. It turned out he decided to flee. And not just anywhere, but to America.

Well, America it is, I decided. Anyway, after the war, all my diplomas will mean nothing, and I can find a place for my daily training (which after China became not just a habit, but almost ingrained at the level of reflexes) there too. Especially since decent universities will soon appear there as well. And I need to pick up my stash—gold from the time of the Revolution should be valued by collectors.

I told him, "Good." I gave him three days to wrap up his affairs. After the specified period, I climbed through his window in the evening, as stealthily as possible from the surveillance that I smelled around his house during my first visit. I injected a tranquilizer, threw him over my shoulder, and left the building the same way.

I repeated the maneuver three times, dragging away his wife and daughter.

Then there was a car theft, infiltration of a military airfield, plane theft, flight to the coast of France, the plane drowned in the sea, another car theft, the port, and four tickets for a ship to the USA.

Abraham swore in German for a long time when the tranquilizer wore off (thankfully he woke up first). But not a single swear word was directed at me. In general, I noticed that people who find themselves near me immediately begin to choose their words very carefully. And they try not to look into my eyes. In general, they behave quietly, politely, and extremely correctly.

Although, how would I behave next to an almost two-meter mountain of muscle, moving with the grace of a predatory cat, silently looking at you with the gaze of a killer?

Abraham has known me for more than six years, after all, he was my roommate during our student days... and saw my training. So even feeling terrible after passing out, he didn't dare express dissatisfaction with me. Only with the damned Nazis.

"Got it out of your system?" I clarified after about ten minutes, when the German ended and Latin and medical terms started. He nodded and fell silent. A minute later he said.

"Thank you, Vic."

I just shrugged. What else could I say? Soon Anita and Esma also began to regain consciousness.

During the journey across the Atlantic, Abraham talked a lot about his life in Germany. About what he saw himself, about what neighbors and colleagues told him... I listened. I am generally good at listening. I don't speak very well. I have a hard time expressing my thoughts. The right words come to mind with a delay... of a couple of days.

No, you can't call me slow-witted either, it's just that nature didn't reward me with a sharp tongue. But when I look at a person, trying to find a worthy answer to what they said, the opponent somehow gets lost, gets embarrassed, turns pale, and tries to wrap up the conversation as quickly as possible. So I prefer not to look my friends in the eye... too often.

So, Abraham talked, I listened. He probably just wanted to vent. Sometimes everyone needs to do that. And I was thinking, what should I do?

It would be more correct to lay low in America, without getting into anything. But is it right? I immediately remembered the stupid, cliché words of Uncle Ben from the Spider-Man comics and movies: "With great power comes great responsibility." And what am I doing with my power? And for whom?

And exactly at that moment, the phrase "vita-rays" sounded. And it hit me like an electric shock! Erskine! The super soldier formula! Captain America! Red Skull! Hydra!

So this is what I got myself into! Zzzzzeeeeen...

I said nothing to Abraham.

Come what may, I thought. And on the horizon, the Statue of Liberty raised its torch to the sky.

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