章節 13: Chapter 13

Author's Note:

As I continue to write this story, I want to acknowledge my earlier uncertainty regarding army ranks and protocols. Thankfully, (Gh0st00) helped me recall our main character's rank, and I've decided to promote him to 2nd Lieutenant after he save Dr. Erskine.

Going forward, I envision our protagonist rising through the ranks as the war unfolds, ultimately achieving the rank of Major by the war's end.

I appreciate your support and feedback, which has been invaluable in shaping this story. Thank you for joining me on this journey! ✌️

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Pov Levi:

CAMP LEHIGH, PRACTICE FIELD

Peggy Carter and I stood before a group of eleven healthy recruits.I was assisting Peggy in evaluating and training the candidates to select one for the super soldier serum.My eyes met Steve's, who looked small but determined in his army green uniform.

Peggy, wearing a British Army uniform, shouted "Recruits, attention!" I, dressed in US Army pants and a white skin-tight t-shirt, carried papers and clipboards.

Peggy introduced us, "Gentlemen, my name is Agent Carter, and this is 2nd Lieutenant Levi Hart. We will be supervising your induction today."

I distributed papers and clipboards to each recruit. Peggy announced, "To begin with, I need you to complete this document."

The papers were labeled "Last Will and Testament." As i distribute the clipboards, Two recruits next to Steve exchanged nervous glances, but Steve read it without flinching.

Everyone began writing, except for one recruit, a meaty guy who grumbled, "What's with the accent, Queen Victoria? I thought I was signing up for the US Army."

Some recruits snickered, but I shook my head, anticipating what was to come. Peggy asked Hodge, "What's your name, soldier?"

He replied sarcastically, "Gilmore Hodge, your majesty."

Peggy remained unfazed, ordering, "Step forward, Hodge."

Hodge complied, and Peggy instructed him to stand with his right leg forward and arms in a specific position.

Hodge, still attempting to provoke Peggy, said, "We gonna rassle? 'Cause I got a few moves I know you'll like." But his humor fell flat, and the other recruits avoided eye contact with me as I glared at them.

Peggy approached Hodge, mirroring his stance, and asked "Are you familiar with the art of Jiu Jitsu, wherein your opponent's size and momentum are used against him?"

Hodge admitted he didn't, and Peggy punched him square in the nose, dropping him to the ground with a bloody nose. She casually remarked, "Neither am I."

I and the other recruits tittered, and Steve looked particularly pleased.

Colonel Phillips emerged from his military jeep and approached us, his boots crunching on the ground. "Agent Carter and Levi!" he called out, his voice commanding attention. Instantly, all military personnel snapped to attention, standing up straight and stiffening their postures. Dr. Erskine trailed behind him, his eyes fixed on the recruits.

Peggy and I responded in unison, "Colonel Phillips," our voices crisp and respectful.

Colonel Phillips nodded, his eyes scanning the scene before him. He pointed at Hodge, who was still rubbing his sore nose. "You! Get over there in that line and stand at attention until somebody tells you what to do." Hodge scurried back to his place in line, his eyes downcast.

Colonel Phillips stood before the men, his presence commanding and authoritative. He cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice strong and confident. "General Patton has said that 'wars are fought with weapons and won by men.'"

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the recruits. His eyes lingered on Steve, who looked pale and sickly, and his expression turned disapproving. He shot a brief scowl at Dr. Erskine before turning back to the recruits.

"We're going to win this war," Colonel Phillips declared, his voice filled with conviction. "Because we have the best men... And because they are going to get better. Much better." His eyes seemed to bore into each recruit, as if challenging them to disagree. The recruits stood at attention, their faces set with determination, inspired by Colonel Phillips' words.

The next day, the training began with an obstacle course designed to test the recruits' physical and mental toughness. I demonstrated the course first, showcasing the optimal way to navigate the challenges and setting a record time. The course consisted of various obstacles, including a cargo net, crawling through mud beneath a barbed-wire net, and several others.

As the recruits began their attempts, Hodge excelled in the cargo net section, completing it with the fastest time. However, Steve struggled, his foot getting tangled in the net. Hodge, instead of assisting him, climbed over Steve, smashing his face into the net. Peggy and I witnessed this but weren't surprised, as Hodge had displayed similar behavior earlier in the barbed-wire net section, where he had kicked out a support bar, causing the barbed wire to fall on Steve.

After the obstacle course, Colonel Phillips arrived, his presence commanding attention. "The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort, made up of the best minds in the free world," he declared. "Our goal is to create the finest army in history. But every army starts with one man." He paused, his eyes scanning the recruits. "Each of you has the potential to be that man. But it will require dedication, perseverance, and a willingness to push beyond your limits."

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Another morning, another grueling training session. Peggy and I were cruising in a jeep, observing the recruits as they ran alongside their trainer, sweat dripping from their faces. Steve, however, was lagging far behind, his exhaustion evident in his labored breathing and sluggish pace.

As we approached the iconic Lehigh pole, the trainer suddenly stopped and issued a challenge: "If any recruit can retrieve the flag from the top of this pole, they'll be excused from today's course!" The recruits' eyes widened with determination, and several attempted to scale the pole, but failed miserably, their hands slipping and sliding down the slick surface.

Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, Steve stumbled into view, his chest heaving, his face pale. But instead of giving up, he approached the pole with a resolute glint in his eye. With a few swift movements, he opened a screw at the base of the pole, and to everyone's astonishment, the pole began to topple! Steve seized the opportunity, snatching the flag as the pole crashed to the ground.

With a triumphant grin, Steve handed the flag to the stunned trainer and climbed into the jeep beside Peggy and me. The other recruits watched in disbelief, their mouths agape, while Peggy beamed with pride, her eyes sparkling with delight. I couldn't help but share her enthusiasm, impressed by Steve's cunning and perseverance. With a satisfied smile, I put the jeep in gear and sped away, leaving the bewildered trainer and recruits in our dust.

Two weeks into the training, the recruits were in the midst of a rigorous pushup session. Peggy and I sat a short distance away, observing their progress. I noticed Peggy's gaze fixed intently on Steve, her eyes betraying a hint of fascination. I decided to tease her a bit, saying, "So, what are you looking at, Peggy?" while following her gaze to Steve.

Peggy's eyes darted away, and she stuttered, "Umm... nothing, just... looking at the recruits' performance." I chuckled, knowing she wasn't fooling anyone, least of all me. "But I think you're looking at Steve more than any other recruit," I said with a grin.

Peggy composed herself, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean, Levi? I'm focused on all recruits; it's my duty to evaluate their performance. I'm not staring at them for personal reasons." Her response was a bit too defensive.

I decided to play matchmaker and called out to Steve, "Hey, Steve! Come here!" Peggy shot me an unpleasant look, but Steve jogged over to us. I said, "Steve, you need to work on your form if you want to improve. Peggy here can give you some tips, right, Peggy?" I winked at her, and she rolled her eyes but began instructing Steve on proper pushup technique.

As they interacted, I noticed the same spark in Steve's eyes that I had seen in Peggy's earlier. I left the two of them to work together, grinning to myself as I walked away. It seemed that my little nudge had set something in motion, and I was eager to see how their relationship would develop.

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Colonel Phillips, Peggy, Dr. Erskine, and I stood before the recruits, our eyes scanning their determined faces. The Colonel's voice boomed, "By the end of this week, we're going to choose that man. He's going to be the second, alongside 2nd Lieutenant Levi Hart, of a new breed of super soldiers. And they are personally going to escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of hell. And together, they're going to bring a quick end to this damn war."

As the Colonel and Dr. Erskine departed, the recruits resumed their training. I joined them, offering guidance and support. Steve, in particular, required extra help, struggling with various aspects of the course. However, his determination to excel was palpable. As we worked together, I learned more about his background. His father had served in the 107th Infantry and tragically succumbed to Mustard gas. His mother, a nurse in the TB ward, had contracted the disease herself and sadly didn't survive.

Steve and I shared a moment of connection, bonding over our shared experiences. "My mother was a nurse too," I said, "she died from bacterial pneumonia." Steve's eyes showed empathy, and we both paused, reflecting on our losses.

" As you know I'm from Brooklyn,Bay Ridge. How about you?" I added, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Brooklyn Heights," Steve said, his eyes sparkling with nostalgia. "I miss the bridge, the promenade... the whole damn city."

Our conversation was interrupted by the trainer's whistle, signaling the next exercise. Steve and I exchanged a nod. Despite his struggles, Steve's resilience and determination impressed me. I was rooting for him, and I knew that he could achieve greatness.

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As we walked towards the recruits, Colonel Phillips turned to Dr. Erskine and said, "I don't understand the European sense of humor, Doctor. You're not thinking of picking Rogers, are you?"

Dr. Erskine replied confidently, "He's the clear choice."

The Colonel's expression turned incredulous. "When you brought a ninety-pound asthmatic onto my Army base, I let it slide because I assumed he'd be useful to you, like a gerbil. I never thought you'd pick him."

We stopped near an open truck, a crate of grenades inside. The Colonel continued, "You put a needle in that guy's arm, it's gonna come out the other side." He pointed at Steve, who was struggling to complete his push-ups. "Look at him! He's making me cry."

Dr. Erskine countered, "I'm searching for qualities beyond the physical."

The Colonel scoffed, "Do you know how long it took to set up this project? The groveling I had to do in front of Senator Brandt's committee?"

Dr. Erskine remained unfazed. "I'm well aware of your efforts."

The Colonel then pointed at Hodge, who was powering through his push-ups. "Hodge passed every test we gave him. He's big, he's fast, and he takes orders. In short, he's a soldier."

Dr. Erskine retorted, "He's a bully."

The Colonel turned to me, seeking my opinion. "What about you, Levi? What's your take on this?"

I replied, "Well, sir, every recruit shows they're ready for war, but I see a hunger in Steve's eyes, not just to win the war but to give his everything, even if it means sacrificing himself."

The Colonel looked unimpressed, while Dr. Erskine smirked.

I continued, "You win wars with guts." I reached for the crate in the truck, grabbed a grenade, pulled the pin, and hurled it towards the recruits.

"GRENADE!" I shouted.

The grenade tumbled in the grass, stopping in front of the recruits. Steve's eyes widened, and he sprinted towards it. The other recruits scrambled away, Hodge yelping as he threw himself under a nearby jeep. Peggy rushed towards the grenade, but Steve beat her to it, throwing himself on top of it.

"Everybody DOWN!" he yelled.

Steve waited for the explosion, but nothing happened. After a moment, he opened his eyes, confused.

The Colonel glared at him, while Dr. Erskine smiled. I grinned, impressed by Steve's bravery.

Steve, still splayed over the inert grenade, looked up and asked, "Uh... is this a test?"

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General POV

CAMP LEHIGH, BARRACKS

Steve sat alone on his bunk, surrounded by the eerie silence of the empty barracks. The other bunks lay stripped, their footlockers empty, a stark reminder of the daunting task ahead. Dr. Erskine entered, carrying a bottle of Schnapps, and approached Steve with a gentle smile. "Can't sleep?" he asked, his voice soft with understanding.

Steve nodded, his eyes betraying his anxiety. "Got the jitters, I guess."

Dr. Erskine nodded empathetically. "Me, too."

Steve hesitated, then asked, "Can I ask you a question?"

Dr. Erskine settled into a chair, his eyes encouraging. "Just one?"

Steve's question hung in the air like a challenge. "Why me?"

Dr. Erskine's expression turned contemplative, his eyes gazing into the past. "I suppose that is the only question that matters."

He motioned for Steve to grab two water glasses, and then held up the bottle of Schnapps. "Made in Augsburg, my city. So many forget that the first country the Nazis invaded was their own."

Dr. Erskine's eyes clouded, his voice laced with pain. "After the first war, my people struggled... they felt weak, small. Then Hitler comes with his big show, the marching. He finds me, hears of my work. 'You,' he says, 'will make us strong.'"

Dr. Erskine's gaze drifted away, lost in thought. "I am not interested. He sends the head of Hydra, his research division. A brilliant scientist named Johann Schmidt. Schmidt was a member of the inner circle, ambitious, obsessed with occult power and Teutonic myth."

Steve listened, entranced, as Dr. Erskine continued. "And when he understood what my formula could do, Schmidt could not resist. He had to become the superior man." Dr. Erskine's eyes refocused on Steve, his expression somber.

"Did it make him strong?" Steve asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Erskine's response was laced with a hint of sadness. "Yes, but there were other... effects. The serum amplifies what is inside. Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse."

He poured Schnapps into the two glasses Steve held, his eyes locked on the liquid. "This is why you were chosen. A strong man, he might lose respect for the power if he has had it all his life. But a weak man knows the value of strength... and compassion."

Steve's voice was tinged with gratitude. "Thanks. I think."

Dr. Erskine chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Whatever happens tomorrow, promise me you'll stay who you are." Steve clinked his glass against Dr. Erskine's, the sound echoing through the silent barracks.

As they moved to drink, Dr. Erskine suddenly remembered something and grabbed Steve's glass. "What am I doing? You have a procedure tomorrow. No fluids."

Steve smiled wryly. "We'll drink it after."

Dr. Erskine poured Steve's drink into his own glass, his eyes twinkling. "I don't have a procedure tomorrow."

He took a sip, his eyes closing in appreciation. "It's very good. I'll save you a little."

As Dr. Erskine left the barracks, he found Levi standing behind the door, a knowing look in his eyes. "So, Doctor, how did you like fulfilling your dream?" Levi asked, his voice low and thoughtful.

Dr. Erskine's expression turned wistful. "Well, Levi, it's not my dream to make an army of soldiers, but I want to make a world where there's no disease, no infirmity."

Levi's eyes shone with admiration. "It's nice to have a dream like that. I hope that after this war, you'll make it happen. We need more people like you, Dr. Erskine."

He pointed to the bottle in Dr. Erskine's hand. "Can you also save a little bit of this for me?"

Dr. Erskine laughed, his eyes sparkling. "Sure."

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HYDRA HQ

Dr. Arnim Zola hesitated as he entered the office lab, his eyes fixed on the unsettling scene before him. Johann Schmidt, his superior, stood posed, his portrait being painted by an artist who seemed to be capturing the very essence of his malevolent presence. The palette was a stark array of red shades.

Schmidt's voice was low and commanding, his gaze piercing. "Don't stare, Doctor."

Zola snapped out of his trance, his eyes darting to the surveillance shots on the table. They showed Dr. Erskine in various locations around New York - in a cab, buying a hot dog, and being escorted by Levi Hart. The implication was clear: they had found the scientist who held the key to the Allies' defense.

Zola's eyes rose to meet Schmidt's, who stood silhouetted against the window, his presence radiating an aura of power. "You disapprove," Schmidt stated, his tone a challenge.

Zola's response was measured. "Berlin doesn't feel this is a proper use of their resources."

Schmidt's laugh was cold, his eyes glinting with disdain. "Berlin, if they care, can discuss it with me personally." The implied threat hung in the air like a shadow.

Zola's voice was laced with resignation. "I just don't see why you need concern yourself. I can't imagine he'll succeed again."

Schmidt's eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with malice. "His serum is the Allies' only defense against the power we now possess. If we take it away, our victory is assured."

Zola nodded, his expression a mask of reluctant acceptance. "Shall I give the order?"

Schmidt's smile was a cold, calculated thing. "It's already been given."

Zola's smile was tight, his eyes betraying a hint of unease as he turned to leave.