Chapter 016: Ambush
The letter was from Connie.
It had been over a month since they'd parted, and Connie explicitly stated that her period was ten days late!
She was terrified, afraid to tell her family or visit a doctor for confirmation. The American medical system was extremely thorough; all her records would be documented. She wrote that she wasn't ready to be a mother yet, and out of fear, she hadn't left her house for several days.
Mason's head was spinning. What the hell was happening? In his original world, he was still single, but in Captain America's universe, he was about to become a father?
His expression cycled through multiple emotions, which Dr. Erskine noticed. "Mason, what's wrong?"
Mason hesitated. This wasn't something he could easily admit. He was supposed to be a righteous and honorable resistance fighter—getting a girl pregnant out of wedlock was hardly something to brag about. "Uh... it's personal, Doctor. I'd like to request a day's leave."
Dr. Erskine glanced at the darkening sky. "Tomorrow morning, I'm planning to return to the city anyway. There's a congressional inquiry I need to address. You can use this opportunity to relax and consider what I proposed." The professor stood up.
"I'll find you tomorrow morning."
Mason read the letter several more times. It specified their meeting location. After confirming all the details, Mason tore the letter into tiny pieces and scattered them in the evening breeze.
"What a goddamn mess," Mason muttered, rubbing his face hard, his emotions in turmoil. He didn't even notice someone sitting down across from him.
"Mason, you don't need to do this." Steve's earnest voice came from across the table. "You're the best candidate for the super soldier. Say yes to the Professor." He held up his hands, examining his scrawny arms. "I'm not meant to be a soldier!"
"Wait, what? Steve's giving up?" Mason was startled. "If he loses faith in himself, then I'm completely screwed!"
He leaned forward, getting close to Steve. "That doesn't sound like the Steve I know. Think about why you stood up in every fight you've ever been in!"
"Was it because you wanted to win, or because you refused to back down from what's right?"
Mason gripped Steve's shoulder. "Trust me—only you deserve to be Captain America, only you deserve the shield I gave you!"
"Don't forget our promise. I will personally give you that shield!"
"Mason..." Steve's expression grew serious, his eyes flashing with renewed determination.
On a nearby rooftop, Dr. Erskine and Colonel Phillips observed the scene below with resigned expressions.
"I genuinely didn't expect the kid to refuse. Looks like you were right—he really is the ideal choice!" Colonel Phillips sighed.
"After you return tomorrow, try to change his mind. The program's been delayed long enough. The congressional committee is getting impatient, and our boys on the front lines desperately need a morale boost."
"I honestly don't know what he's thinking, claiming that Steve is the best choice. Look how scrawny that kid is—he looks more malnourished than a Depression victim. Even if it weren't Mason, I'd never approve letting him participate. The committee would have my head on a platter!" Colonel Phillips shook his head, clearly having zero faith in Steve.
Dr. Erskine had explained the Super Soldier Serum's properties before, but nobody believed him. They all maintained that power itself is neutral—only the person wielding it can be good or evil.
Nothing more was said that night.
Early the next morning, Mason left Camp Lehigh in Dr. Erskine's staff car.
"Where are you headed? I'll have the driver take you." As they approached the city, the professor asked.
Mason couldn't admit he'd requested leave to see his pregnant girlfriend. "We're headed the same direction—I'll get out with you."
Dr. Erskine said nothing further, respecting Mason's privacy. To give Mason space, he didn't bring up the super soldier topic again throughout the drive, keeping the conversation light.
Mason knew little about 1940s America, so he answered selectively. Seeing his distraction, the professor stopped talking and closed his eyes to rest.
As they entered the city proper, the number of vehicles and pedestrians on the streets gradually increased. They drove along, stopping and starting, gradually approaching their destination.
The traffic light turned red, and the car slowly rolled to a stop.
But just then, two yellow Checker cabs suddenly peeled out from traffic on both sides of the intersection, driving against the flow, heading straight for Mason's car!
"What the hell?!" Thanks to his months of survival experience, Mason was alert and spotted the threat. He slapped the driver's shoulder and shouted, "Drive! We're under attack!"
The driver hesitated momentarily. An old Packard sedan was parked directly ahead; if he accelerated forward, he'd definitely plow into oncoming traffic. In that instant of hesitation, the cabs barreling from both sides suddenly accelerated and slammed into them.
Only then did the driver realize what was happening. He floored the accelerator and frantically lurched forward. But because of his earlier delay, it was too late to completely avoid impact.
Two thunderous crashes echoed as the car was rammed from behind by both cabs, half the rear door collapsing inward.
However, because the driver had started moving forward slightly earlier, the cabs didn't score direct hits on the passenger compartment. Otherwise, given the severity of the collision, Mason and Dr. Erskine would probably have been killed instantly!
SCREECH! SCREECH! SCREECH!
The car traced a wild arc across the pavement, sideswiping the Packard ahead, careening off the street, spinning sharply at the intersection, and coming to a complete stop facing the opposite direction.
"Scheisse!" Two frustrated curses came from inside the cabs—in German. If they hadn't missed, their mission would be complete by now. At that moment, a heavily-built man leaned out of the passenger window, clearly pulling something from inside the vehicle.
"They've got guns—move!" Mason, with sharp eyes, spotted a Thompson submachine gun barrel emerging from the other side and yelled urgently. The veins on his forehead bulged with tension, making him look absolutely feral.
The driver's hands shook, nearly losing his grip on the wheel, but he didn't stop—frantically mashing the accelerator. The car rocketed forward like a bullet!
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
A burst of automatic fire erupted.
"Get down!"
Mason yanked Dr. Erskine over and slammed him into the seat. In the instant he ducked, a glimpse from the corner of his eye showed a bullet punching through the windshield and entering the driver's eye socket!
The driver's head lolled sideways, and he was gone.
After death, his body slumped forward over the steering wheel, his leg jamming the accelerator to the floor. The car, now a runaway missile, smashed through two cabs trying to block the road and barreled off in the wrong direction.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Another burst of gunfire erupted from behind the car. Glass shattered, and a pained groan filled the air. Dr. Erskine had been shot in the arm, blood soaking half his sleeve.
"He's hit!"
The thought of the catastrophic consequences if Dr. Erskine died sent ice through Mason's veins. Just then, the out-of-control car collided head-on with an oncoming Volkswagen Beetle!