Agent Sakuara

SUBORBITAL BOMBER C.O.C.KPIT

Steve kicks open the door to find stillness. He steps warily toward the control platform. He sees the pilot's chair empty.

Suddenly, he hears the w.h.i.n.e of a Hydra assault rifle powering up. His eyes dart to the window, where he sees a reflection of the Red Skull aiming at his back.

Steve wh.i.p.s around, shield raised, deflecting the shot. The blast ricochets, blowing out a pane of the c.o.c.kpit glass. Wind roars.

"You don't give up, do you?" Schmidt shouted, irritated.

"Nope." Steve charges at the Res Skull, who fires again.

Blue bolts ricochet around the cabin. Steve swings, bashing the rifle from Red Skull's hands. Schmidt swings. Steve puts him in a headlock. Schmidt throws Steve into a bulkhead.

Steve swings his shield, but Schmidt grabs it with both hands. The two super soldiers strain, eye to eye.

"You wear a flag on your c.h.e.s.t and think you fight a battle of nations? I have seen the future, Captain. There are no flags but Hydra's." Schmidt smirked.

"Keep the future. I'm looking for a little here and now." Steve slams the Red Skull in the jaw with the shield. Schmidt staggers. Steve c.o.c.ks back and hits him with an uppercut. The impact drives Schmidt up and into the auto pilot controls. The autopilot disengages. The plane lurches violently.

The massive plane spins into a barrel roll. Inside the c.o.c.kpit, Steve and the Red Skull tumble to the ceiling.

As Steve and the Red Skull crash across the whirling c.o.c.kpit, Steve grasps for a handhold. The plane jerks again, throwing them together. They battle in chaotic zero gravity.

Steve powers the Red Skull into the ceiling. Schmidt elbows Steve into the wall and tries to reach the autopilot. But Steve uses his momentum to swing around a strut and slams his shield into Red Skull's head. Schmidt bashes against the wall, but adeptly bounces back. He grabs a strut and kicks Steve toward the back bulkhead. The Red Skull flies at the autopilot controls.

Steve slams hard into the steel wall while the Red skull finds a handhold and hits the autopilot button. The giant plane pulls out of its dive. Gravity returns with sudden violence. Steve smashes to the floor, his shield rolling away. Steve lies momentarily dazed. His eyes flutter.

"You could have the power of the gods..." Steve looks up to see Red Skull advancing, luger drawn. "And you will not admit you want it?" Standing in front of the cube housing, he takes dead aim at the star on Steve's c.h.e.s.t.

"I want what every soldier on every battlefield wants..." Steve eyes the shield at his feet. "I want this war to end." Steve slams his heel onto the shield, flipping it into the air.

The Red Skull fires. Steve jumps to his feet, grabbing the shield, blocking the blast. He whirls and hurls his shield.The spinning disc hits the Red Skull in the ribs with a sickening crunch, knocking him off his feet and smashing him into the cube console. Blue energy arcs and crackles from the damaged machinery. The energy gauge pins at overload. Schmidt pulls himself to his feet, staring in alarm as the cube rises from the machine, glowing with a violent intensity.

Red Skull stares. He reaches out and extracts the cube. Steve gapes as the cube burns the glove off Schmidt's hand, exposing the scarred flesh. The Red Skull just stares, overcome and amazed. Blinded by the light, Steve staggers toward the controls.

Meanwhile, for Schmidt, the plane seems to vanish around him and the visions of the nine realms dance in the light. A rainbow portal stretches past an observatory and into space.

"I was right..." Schmidt said, breathless. The visions speed up until they blur. Suddenly, the cube vibrates violently. Schmidt looks worried. Something's wrong. "No."

Steve wh.i.p.s up his shield as energy shoots from the cube.

"NO!" Schmidt desperately shouted.

Energy bolts ricochet off the ceiling and strike the Red Skull, vaporizing him as the cube goes Nova. A massive column of energy shoots toward space, growing in intensity until it explodes outwards, evaporating the clouds. Light glares through the c.o.c.kpit windows. Then fades. The plane wh.i.p.s past.

Steve stands, woozy. When his vision returns, he sees the inert cube. He takes a step toward it. Suddenly, the plane banks violently, its engines roaring. Steve races for the controls. The forgotten cube tumbles across the flight deck and flies out a hole in the fuselage.

Steve climbs into the chair. The control stick steers automatically. Steve wrestles it, trying to override the plane but it will not alter course. Steve stares at the monitor and the green map of Manhattan.

HYDRA HEADQUARTERS - CONTROL TOWER

The radio squawks in the empty control room.

"Colonel Phillips, Agent Carter, anyone...come in..." Agent Carter runs in and grabs the radio, frantic and relieved. "Steve, is that you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Steve replied and Agent Carter released a sigh.

Outside, the Howling Commandos are rounding up the surrendered Hydra men.

"Where's Schmidt?" Agent Carter asked.

"Schmidt's dead." Steve replied.

"What about the plane?" Agent Carter asked another question.

"That's a little bit harder to explain." Steve nervously answered.

SUBORBITAL BOMBER C.O.C.KPIT

Steve stares at the New York map, radio in hand. His compass lies open on the control board.

"Give me your coordinates. I'll find a landing site—" Agent Carter started saying but she was cut offed by Steve.

"There isn't going to be a landing. Schmidt's locked the navigation system." Steve eyes the relined engine gauges in front of him. "And there's more than enough power to reach the East Coast."

Agent Carter looks grave. She waves Colonel Phillips down. "I'll get Howard on the line. He'll know what to do."

"I'm sitting on a hundred tons of explosives. Hotwiring this thing's not an option." Steve looks out the window at the vast, blue expanse of ocean. "I've got to put her in the water."

Agent Carter spreads her fingers on the wall, her knuckles white. "But you said you couldn't steer it."

Steve scans the control panel. He spots a thick cable running from the ignition to the engines. "I can't. But I think I can crash it." He yanks the cable out. Blue sparks flare. Then all the lights die. The engines stop. The plane goes quiet.

"Steve, don't do this. We've got time. We can figure this out." Agent Carter desperately pleaded.

Steve eyes the navigation charts. "I already did. Right now, I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are going to get hurt...Peggy, this is my choice."

Agent Carter and Colonel Phillips look at each other, slowly accepting what's happening.

"We'll send out rescue sh.i.p.s. We'll find you." Agent Carter still didn't want to accept it.

"I don't think there's going to be much left to find." Steve leans on the stick with all his might. The plane begins a screaming dive. "Colonel Phillips?"

"I'm here." Colonel Phillips immediately answered.

Steve's compass spins wildly. He just stares at Yumhee's picture. "Did you find her and our son?"

"I'm sorry...they're not here." Colonel Phillips answered honestly.

Tears started to fall silently on Steve's face. "Please...save them."

"I will, no matter what." Colonel Phillips promised.

"I'll entrust them to you Colonel." Steve's voice started to shake.

"I understand. I'll do my best." Colonel Phillips reassured Steve.

Clouds whip past the windows as the plane plummets. Steve pockets the compass and slides his mask over his face. Arctic ice rushes up at the c.o.c.kpit window. "Thank y—" HISS.

The radio in Agent Carter's hand goes silent. Colonel Phillips puts a hand on her shoulder. She just stares out the hanger at the blue sky beyond.

ARCTIC OCEAN

The plane skids violently across a glacier. It careens off the edge and crashes into an icy lake. The plane floats a moment, then starts to sink.

TRAFALGAR SQUARE

People lean from balconies, holding the V for Victory sign. A paper on a newsstand reads, "WAR OVER!"

THE WHIP & FIDDLE PUB

Amidst the revelry, Morita, Jones, Dernier, Falsworth and Dugan stand at attention. Their bags rest against the wall. They solemnly raise their glasses.

UNDERWATER

The plane sinks slowly in the icy water.

STARK SEARCH BOAT

A trawler bobs on the ocean's surface, at anchor. All sorts of antennae sprout from the wheelhouse.

Howard Stark hunches over a monitor on a high-tech bridge. His assistants eye sonar and radiation detectors. One features a steady green blip.

On Stark's screen is a grainy video footage of the sea bottom. Sand and fish roll past as the camera explores the terrain. Howard Stark peers. He stops the camera sub, adjusts the monitor, bringing into focus the cracked, inert cosmic cube. He operates a pair of joysticks. On screen, two robotic claws extend. They reach out and clasp the cube.

Howard exhales and looks to his assistants. "Move us to the next grid point."

"But there's no trace of wreckage, sir. And the energy signature stops here." One his assistants said.

Stark pushes back from the monitor, spent, grim. "Just keep looking."

ARCTIC OCEAN

The plane's wingtip slips below the ice.

UNDERWATER

Through the c.o.c.kpit window, Steve's shadow can be seen. He slumps, strapped in his chair.

ALLIED HEADQUARTERS - BRIEFING ROOM

Colonel Phillips signs an official report, "CLA.S.SIFIED-CAPTAIN AMERICA." He stamps it "INACTIVE." He slides it into a red box marked "TO BE DESTROYED." He looks up as Agent Carter walks in. He regards her, stoic, suppressing his emotion. "No one said we have to forget the man, Agent."

Agent Carter nods. She picks up the box and puts it with others on a table near the door. For a moment, she just stands there, overwhelmed. She opens the box, taking out a photo of pre-rebirth Steve. She smiles. Then she tucks it in her b.r.e.a.s.t pocket. She closes the box and leaves.

LOWER EAST SIDE

On a New York street, two boys play. One fires a toy gun. The other blocks imaginary bullets with a garbage can lid.

After a moment, inside a room, the sound of a Brooklyn Dodgers game on the radio is heard.

On the bed where Steve is sleeping, it can be observed that he looks paler, thinner but alive. Suddenly, his eyes flicker open. He sees an old glass light fixture on a white ceiling. He sits up and finds he's on a bed in a quiet, 1940s room. The sun shines through white curtains. The Dodgers game plays on an old vacuum tube radio on a wooden dresser.

"Workman up for the Phillies, now. Holding that big club down at the end. He sets, Chipman pitches. Curveball, outside. Ball one." The Radio announcer said.

Steve slides his b.a.r.e feet to the worn, wooden floor.

"Good morning." An SSR Agent greeted.

Steve turns to see a pretty 1940s brunette sitting in a chair. She folds a copy of The Brooklyn Eagle and checks her watch.

Smiling gently, the SSR Agent said "Or I should say, afternoon."

"I don't...remember going to sleep." Steve said cautiously.

"Well, it was quite a while ago." The SSR Agent said.

Steve rubs his face. The radio plays and the announcer can be heard saying "So the Dodgers are ahead eight to five. And Chipman knows one swing of the bat and this fella's capable of making it a brand new game."

Steve eyes the radio. He takes a long look at her and asked "How long have I been out?" In the background, the radio announcer continue to say "Outfield deep, round toward left, the infield overshifted."

"I'm afraid I couldn't say—" The SSR Agent started to say but with lightning speed, Steve grabs her arm. "Captain Rogers, please!"

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" Steve asked menacingly.

Wincing, the SSR Agent replied "We know all about you."

Just then, a large, menacing man in strangely modern garb rushes into the room. He carries a set of metal restraints. Steve lets go of the SSR AGENT. He stares, red-eyed as the man moves in on him.

At the hallway a door suddenly explodes, blown off its hinges by the flying body of the manacle man. Steve staggers out.

Steve races into a busy, modern lobby. SHIELD operatives stare. MP'S appear ahead of him.

"Halt!" A SHIELD MP shouted.

Steve bowls them over and runs for the door. Steve burst outside the SHIELD hospital. He takes a few steps then stops.

Modern cars honk and roar in the street. Towering plasma billboards play moving ads featuring lots of flesh. Modern people rush past, iPods and cellphones to their ears. Steve staggers, confused. He glances over his shoulder to see the MP's rushing out. Steve takes off, sprinting down the crowded sidewalk.