4

The next day Peggy picked up Steve early in the morning and took him away from Camp Lehigh. They soon found themselves driving through the streets of Brooklyn, New York. For the first time since the night of the exhibition, his thoughts drifted to Bucky and to their misspent youth on the streets of Brooklyn.

“I know this neighborhood,” Steve said to Peggy. “I got beat up in that alley.” He pointed out the car window. “And over there,” he added, pointing to a corner outside a soda fountain. “And there.” This time he nodded at a side street blocked by a garbage truck.

Peggy looked at him quizzically. “Did you have something against running away?” she asked.

“You start running,” Steve began, “they’ll never let you stop. You stand up, you push back...they can only tell you no for so long, right?”

Peggy smiled to herself, more confident than ever that the SSR had made the right choice in picking Steve Rogers.

The car came to a stop, jolting Steve. Looking around, he saw that they had parked in front of an antiques store.

“Why did we stop here?” he asked, confused.

“I love a bargain,” she answered simply, opening the car door and getting out. Steve laughed. Peggy was full of surprises, and he felt a weird flutter in his chest. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to like Peggy.

Getting out of the car, he followed her inside. An old woman stood behind the counter, surrounded by various knickknacks and dusty antiques. “Wonderful weather this morning,” Peggy said.

“Isn’t it?” the shopkeeper said. “Yes, but I always carry an umbrella.”

The woman nodded at Peggy, then pressed a hidden button, allowing Peggy and Steve to enter. This was serious spy stuff. Steve couldn’t quite believe it all.

At a door in the back of the store, Peggy stopped and turned to make sure Steve was behind her. Then she opened the door, revealing a secret staircase. They made their way down and walked through another door—right into the Strategic Scientific Reserve Rebirth lab.

Steve’s eyes grew wide as he took in the giant space. Far larger than the store above, it was illuminated by bright lights and bustling with activity. In the center of the ultramodern area, technicians operated different kinds of machinery, consulting with one another as they pulled levers and flipped switches. A group of engineers manned a row of monitors that beeped with information, while in another part of the lab a film crew was setting up their equipment.

Looking up, Steve noticed an observation booth. Several serious-looking men stood inside talking. Peggy quickly informed him that the man with the salt-and-pepper hair was Senator Brandt. He had helped the SSR get funding for the serum experiment—code-named Project: Rebirth—and was here to see if his money had been well spent.

As Steve walked farther into the lab, everyone turned to stare at him. He smiled self-consciously when he realized that he might be in over his head. Instinctively, he made his way to Dr. Erskine, who stood next to a large mechanical assembly. It was centered around a kind of human-shaped recess, almost like a cradle. Surrounding it were rows of brackets and straps and all kinds of medical-looking instruments and machines. This, Erskine informed him, was the Rebirth device. It was in this cradle that Steve would be given the serum.

With a deep breath, Steve got inside. It was now or never.

“Comfortable?” Dr. Erskine asked.

At Steve’s nod, Erskine smiled. Then, turning to the attendants standing at the ready, he gave them the signal. They began to hook up Steve to various wires, tubes, and monitors. These would help Erskine observe Steve’s reactions as the experiment proceeded.

“How are your levels, Mr. Stark?” Erskine asked, turning to someone Steve hadn’t noticed before.

The man turned and Steve raised an eyebrow. It was Howard Stark, the inventor he had seen at the World Exhibition of Tomorrow. Stark wasn’t a military man, so he must also be on loan to the SSR , Steve thought.

“Coils are at peak,” Stark replied to Erskine. “Levels are one hundred percent. We’re ready.” Then he paused before adding, “As we’ll ever be.”

Erskine didn’t seem as concerned. Picking up a microphone that would carry his words into the observation booth, he began to speak. “Today, we take the first step on the path to peace,” he said. Behind him, more attendants fiddled with the machines hooked up to Steve. A heart monitor began to beep in time with Steve’s racing heart.

“The serum will cause immediate cellular change,” Erskine went on. “In order to prevent uncontrolled growth, the subject will then be saturated with Vita-Rays.”

Uncontrolled growth? Saturated with rays? The heart monitor started beeping faster as Steve listened. So his cradle was going to turn into a chamber? And he’d be shot full of rays? If Bucky were here right now , Steve thought, he’d tell me, “I told you so.”

Turning off the microphone, Erskine nodded to a nurse. She opened up a case, revealing an aluminum syringe. She tapped it a few times, pulled back the plunger, and injected Steve in the arm.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Steve said when she was done. “That was penicillin,” Erskine said, a small smile on his face.

As Steve looked on, a panel slid back, revealing a carousel of blue vials. There were seven tubes of serum in total. Erskine and the nurse began inserting the vials one by one into the injectors set up around Steve. When they had inserted six of the seven, Erskine had another technician move closer. He was in charge of the injector pads—small round objects covered with hundreds of tiny needle tips. They were lightly placed all over the outside of Steve’s body. When they were pressed down into his skin, the serum would flow through the injectors, into the pads, and then into Steve.

Then Erskine began the countdown. “Beginning serum infusion in five, four, three, two...one.”

He pressed a switch, and Steve jerked as the pads pressed down on him. The blue fluid flowed from the injectors. Instantly, Steve’s veins began to swell and his head began to shake as the fluid washed through him.

Erskine hit another button and padded restraints closed around Steve’s head, calming the shaking. But it didn’t stop his eyes from glowing blue. From the look on Erskine’s face, though, it seemed as if this was supposed to happen.

When the six vials were finally empty, Erskine turned to the millionaire inventor. “Now, Mr. Stark.”

Stark pulled a lever, and the cradle began to tilt. When it was finished moving, Steve was straight up, and the cradle looked like a rocket ready to launch. Then a panel slid across the cradle, sealing Steve inside. Through a small window, everyone could see Steve’s face. With the panels closed, the cradle was now ready to be flooded with Vita-Rays which would hopefully keep Steve safe. The Vita-Ray machine came courtesy of Howard Stark, who gave Steve a reassuring nod before moving to the control device.

A piercing whine filled the air as Stark turned a power dial. On a big gauge, a needle began to climb, indicating the level of rays flooding the chamber. It hit ten, then twenty. Steve’s face began to tense. At forty, his eyes squeezed shut. Then the needle reached sixty, and the heart monitor began beeping wildly. The rays were affecting Steve badly. Stark looked to Erskine, ready to turn the machine off, but the scientist shook his head. They had to keep going.

The needle reached eighty, and a strange orange glow filled the device chamber. Steve’s face could no longer be seen through the window. Inside, Steve was completely unaware of what was going on as the rays battered his body. Outside, Erskine’s own heart pounded. He knew he was putting Steve in great danger, but he had to...

When the needle hit ninety, Steve let out a piercing scream. Up in the booth, Brandt and his aides took a step back when they heard it. On the lab floor, Erskine watched as the orange light grew even brighter. It was too much. “Kill the reactors!” he ordered.

Stark was about to turn the dial down when over the microphone came Steve’s voice, faint but determined. “No,” he said. “I can do this.”

Erskine swallowed. They had chosen Steve because he had heart, and it seemed he was determined to see this through. The doctor hesitated and then finally nodded at Stark. The other man gave the dial a final turn. One hundred. A sharp whine split the air, and the chamber flashed from orange to white.

Then everything went dark.

Silence filled the lab. The heart monitor stopped beeping and no sound came from inside the chamber. Up in the booth, Brandt looked down at Erskine, his expression a mixture of disappointment and anger. Everyone in the room held their breath in anticipation.

Then, suddenly, the heart monitor came to life. Beep, beep, beep.

Anxious, Erskine took a step forward. Had it worked? Was it possible?

There was only one way to tell. Stark opened the chamber.

Scientists peered through the smoke and machinery as the chamber cleared of the last rays. And then, Erskine smiled.

Steve was still strapped into the chamber. But it wasn’t the same Steve who had gone in. No longer was he thin and frail. Instead, he was now a model of human perfection, standing a foot taller than before, with muscles rippling all over his new body. Project: Rebirth had worked!

“You did it, Doctor!” Stark shouted as he unstrapped Steve, who was momentarily weakened from the ordeal. “You really did it!”

As Stark helped Steve over to a chair, everyone rushed in, eager to see the results and congratulate one another. In the middle of the excitement, Steve sat, taking everything in. He felt different. He couldn’t tell what he looked like, but from the reactions of those around him, he figured it was good. And from the reaction of Peggy, he figured it was very good. “How do you feel?” she asked.

“Taller,” he said, looking down at her as he smiled.

Peggy smiled back. At least his spirits hadn’t changed.

And then everything started to go downhill—fast.

While they were talking, one of the men who had been in the observation booth made his way into the lab. He wore glasses and went by the name Fred Clemson. Ignoring Dr. Erskine and the others, he made his way to the chamber—and the last remaining vial of serum. Glancing quickly around to make sure no one was looking, he pulled out a lighter. With a flick of his thumb, he opened it, revealing a button instead of the usual wick.

Erskine heard the sound through the chatter in the lab and turned. He knew that sound. His eyes grew wide. He also knew that person. His name wasn’t Fred Clemson. His name was Kruger, and he was a Hydra agent. Erskine saw Kruger at the same time the other man saw him. An evil smile spread across Kruger’s face, and his thumb pressed down on the lighter. Then he threw it.

“No!” Erskine shouted. But it was too late. The observation room exploded.