Man Out of Time - A Captain America / Avengers Fanfiction

Chapter 68

Chapter 68

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

Image. Body moving. No! Drilling holes into children's head. No! Mind sees … can't change what body does.

The PDA buzzed "yes."

"He's right," Jacquie said. "In here, we can give you information without risking the mission. Out there…" Her voice trailed off.

The brand spanking new helicarrier U.S.S. William Tecumseh Sherman had a containment cell identical to the one in the Triskelion. Unlike that cell, this one had been filled with all manner of one-way electronic equipment that would allow the Count to monitor the Chitauri radio signals and pass what they were saying along to Rick Jones via Jacquie, but not broadcast anything. It wasn't quite putting them back into a prison cell, but … dammit … it was!

"I don't like it," Steve said. "There must be some other way."

"We can't guarantee Mr. Stark's dampening helmet will protect them from the Chitauri command signal if we get close to a mother ship," Rick Jones said. "The Count is a maintenance-class drone, not a battle-one, but he's still nearly as strong as you are. If he turns on you, you would have no choice but to kill him."

Image. Steve. Kneeling over him. Applying pressure to his severed throat to save his life.

The PDA buzzed. "No want hurt. Steve friend."

"It's for the best, Steve," Jacquie said. "You have no idea what it's like to have someone make your body do terrible things and not be able to do anything about it."

Steve's cell phone buzzed. Not a translation from Count Rugen, but a regular text message. Rogers … get your ass up here. We're starting the debriefing - F.

"You can understand his images?" Steve asked Jacquie.

"A little," Jacquie said. "Without the amplifier boosting the signal, I get emotions more than pictures. But … we've reached an understanding." She reached out to touch Count Rugen's arm. The Count nodded. Whatever she had just said verbally had also been conveyed via the crude telepathic communications ability the Chitauri had rammed into both of their brains. An ability developed more to transmit commands to control motor function than to communicate with one another.

Steve's PDA buzzed again. Another text message. Rogers … where the hell are you!

"Go get her," Jacquie said. "She's going to need somebody who understands what it's been like for her."

Human and alien looked through the glass of the prison cell as it closed in front of them, a strange juxtaposition of Jacquie with her red-and-black striped hair on only one side of her head, the other side burned close to her scalp and bandaged, and the six-fingered alien who towered over her by more than a foot, wearing slacks, a button down shirt, and a white lab coat. The airlock whooshed, sealing them both inside. All communication would now be made from the tiny speaker next to the door of the cell.

The PDA buzzed, now only able to read the regular phone network and not the communications interface with Count Rugen.

Rogers!

Waving goodbye, Steve made his way up to the flight hanger, where he was being tasked with briefing the troops about fighting off the biggest threat mankind had ever faced.

X

The floor vibrated beneath his feet as an announcement came over the intercom warning them the helicarrier was about to launch. The four heli-engines, which had been warming up as the ship cruised out of the dry dock at Newport News shipyard on its regular engines, roared to life. The entire ship hummed as the propellers gained enough speed to lift the enormous carrier out of the harbor. The liftoff was less steady than the takeoffs and landings of her sister ship the USS Gerald Ford, but with barely time to commandeer a new captain to pilot the USS Sherman, such a hiccup on her maiden voyage was to be expected.