Marvel/DC: Shards of Destiny #13
Written by WarlorTVor and Anomaly,
Edited by Marvelite
Shards of Destiny
Return to the War of Yesteryear
Part Six - To The Hilt
***For previous chapters, go to the Marvel/DC Cosmic Crossovers Archive***
“Greetings, all assembled! We originally had gathered here today to
mark the celebration of the birth of the Nazi party and Nazism in general –
under the watchful hand of Adolf Hitler, our glorious Fuhrer! But today we mark
the capture of one of the Third Reich’s greatest, most feared enemy! I bring
you the capture of Captain America!”
“Hail Hitler! Hail Hitler! Hail Hitler!”
On the small black-and-white
television set that was in the main room of the small German underground safe
house, the image of a battered and bleeding Captain America appeared. The
Patriot’s body was strapped onto a cemented stone that was carved in the shape
of an “X,” his arms were bounded above him, his legs below, and his head was
still tall, not lowered. In utter defiance of Red Skull, Hitler, and every other
damn Nazi or Nazi supporter in the entire room. In all of Berlin – for that
“What - - What the hell?” A
shirtless Nick Fury eased out of the back rooms; his ribs were bandaged in a
white cloth that wrapped around his entire midsection. The area in which he was
shot was soaked in blood. He pressed his body against the hallway wall.
The leader of the nonconformist
outlawed band of former Nazi supporters, Tiberuis Striker approached the wounded
American. “They have Captain America.”
“See for yourself, Sergeant
Fury,” the German made a sweeping motion toward the television set. And there,
just as he had said, stood Captain America, beside him flanking him on either
side, chained to their knees, the chains were connected toward the ground:
Batman and Namor on one side, and the Human Torch was chained beside Logan.
“As I said.”
With an unbridle anger and rage,
Fury charged forth, the tip of his boot shattering through the glass of the
machine. “We have to do something!” he declared.
“We cannot,” Striker said
solemnly. “We are only fourteen, with you fifteen. This is not so much an
underground movement as it is a safe house for wanted and hunted Jews. We are no
match for the entire Nazi army,” he explained and when he saw the look of
utter disdain on Fury’s face he knew that forth explanation was in order.
“We have limited resources, Sergeant. And we can hardly live without fear of
finding death’s touch. Now you say that we must seek it in a futile quest to
charge and capture the lair of the beast itself. This is madness! Not even your
costumed avengers, American, could stand up against their collective might. You
ask us to face the firing squad head on. I have a family that I must consider, I
have a son who I must make sure that our ideas are bestowed upon him without the
dark cloud of Nazi tainting his soul.” His hand rested upon the bulging
stomach of his pregnant wife.
“And it is for your son that I
make this request, Tiberuis!” Fury cried out. “This war is not a war for a
special costumed few to fight. It is a war that we all must join in. Or the
evils of Nazism will rein supreme throughout the land and before you know what
the hell happened, you’ll walk outside one day and see your son standing
there. Hailing the approaching Fuhrer! Is that what you want? To stand by
ideally and watch these atrocities happen. I know that by nature you are a
pacifist, Striker! And I applaud you on what you and your family and others are
accomplishing here in Berlin, by saving lives. But there is a time to save life
and a time to take it! And this is one of those times, Striker!” He knew that
his cold words were not passing through his cold exterior that he had thrown up
around him so he decided to take a different approach. A more human approach.
“Captain America saved your life! And that of your soon to be son’s and your
wife’s; you owe him! At the risk of that of his own and the rest of us with
him! If it was anyone else they would have left you and your family there to pay
the price in sake of the mission. And more than likely you and your family would
have been discovered as harboring those who were wanted and shot. I am not sure
– to tell you the truth – what I would have done. But I’m not asking the
favor upon me, I’m asking it for Captain America. ”
“I admit I owe him much –
more than you can understand! But I will not help you, Nick Fury. That is debt
that I cannot repay.”
“Fine!” Nick Fury grunted.
Slamming a cigar in his mouth he stormed off to the room that they had mended
his wounds in. He then through on his uniform and strapped on his weapons
Nick Fury opened the door, but before stepping out he
casted his glance over to Striker. Then Fury lowered his head and walked out.
Striker turned to the reflection of himself that he had stared into earlier that
day, and he saw a chance to redeem himself, if not in God’s eyes then that of
his own, but that chance had walked outside the door resting on the shoulders of
He arose, and walked over to the
door. Opening it he called out, “Fury return!”
He stopped and turned around
slightly. The rain was dripping off him. He looked back in the direction in
which he was heading, then at the man in the doorway; pools of white light
shimmered around him. And made his way slowly toward the shimmering man. “I am
not doing this for you or for Captain America,” Striker said to Fury, who was
standing on the walkway before him, “I do this for my inner demons.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Fury grunted and stepped in.
Captain America struggled, in
vain, against the bonds that held him into place.
“What’s wrong, Captain?” Red Skull asked smiling,
devilishly. “Enraged that I was able to lure you and the others into my
awaiting grasp so easily? You should be more cautious with whom you speak with,
“What do you mean?” he
rasped, blood trickling from out of the corners of his mouth.
“Nien!” one of the German
officers bellowed, raising the whip within his iron grasp and bringing it down
upon the shirtless Captain America, hard. Within the wake of the sudden blast of
pain a massive red mark appeared on Cap’s chest. His body wanted to scream in
pain, but he would not give in.
“It is all right,
Lieutenant,” the Skull uttered, grinning devilishly at his greatest enemy’s
disadvantage. And gleaming before Captain America, behind the massive stone
podium, shrouded it toward the masses below, stood his majestic admantium
shield. Cap took note of this, but just to make sure that Red Skull did not know
where his gaze had fallen he shifted it upon the gathered crowds, searching.
Soon he found what he was looking for, or rather whom. Baron Zemo stood there at
the stage's end, beside an entire entourage of Nazi soldiers. “Pay attention,
American,” Skull said, making his way toward the chained patriot, “and we
might learn something. Do you remember the Nazi patrol that you and your
companion, Batman, over there, the one attacking the young expecting woman and
the German safe house?”
Cap nodded, not wishing to
continue on this line of questioning.
Skull’s diminutive little smile widened. “Well, Striker was the one who revealed your presence her in Berlin.”
This caught everyone by
surprise, they all turned toward the Skull in disbelieve.
“It can’t be . . .”
“I’ll kill him!” Namor grunted under his breath, struggling against the chains that bonded him to the ground.
“There it is . . .” Fury
grunted, easing his way near a trash pin, the rain dripping on his shoulders,
before him the massive Nazi building stood, silently.
Then from out of no where, a slender, blood covered hand rolled and
started to rest on Nick Fury’s shoulder.
“F-F-Fury . . .” a weak
voice called out to him.
He spun around, standing beside
him was Striker, but it wasn’t his voice or his hand, for that matter. He
eased his view into the pin only to see the battered and wounded Robin
Silverback lying there, blood rushing out of her mouth wildly.
“T-t-t-they . . . k-k-k-k-knew
. . . w-w-we . . . w-w-w-were . . . coming . . . Nick . . .” her voice was
weak as she gagged out more blood. Her vision was glazed over. Life was slipping
away from her already not so firm grasp.
“Damn it! I knew it!” Fury
grunted. He reached out and took her cold, pale hand into that of his warm one.
“Rest easy, Robin,” he hushed, his hands rubbing against her’s in the hope
to keep her somewhat warm.
“S-s-s-s-s-so . . .
c-c-c-c-cold.” Her lower lip was trembling uncontrollably. Her vision
darkened, till she couldn’t even see Nick’s sorrow filled visage any more.
She knew her eyes were opened. But there was nothing, she could feel herself
falling away and the last words that left her mouth was, “Oh . . . my . . .”
And she was gone. Just like
“Rest easy, solider,” his
hand reached out and closed her eyes. He arose from her body and stared at the
glass doorway leading toward the Nazi building. “Let’s go,” he ordered.
“Yes,” Striker said, his German accent returned in force. “Hands in the air, American.”
That’s when he felt the iron
of the barrel of a small side arm pressed into the small of his back, the weapon
was cocked. He complied; his hands in the air slowly, Striker reached in and
pulled out the gun from his body holster. “Let’s go.”
And the words You bastard! I’ll kill you for what you did to, Silverback! chimed out through Fury’s ears.
“You lie!” Captain America
screamed grinding his teeth together.
“No, fair Captain,” a
recognizable voice called out from the crowd. It was the voice of Tiberuis
Striker, donned in full Nazi gray uniform. “The Red Skull speaks the truth. I
did reveal that you were in Berlin. You must believe me when I say that I had no
Hitler bolted out of his chair.
“Skull!” he commanded. “What is going on here?!”
“Ahh, Fuhrer,” Skull said
humbly. “Striker was the one that informed myself – who masterminded this
entire event in order to bring you our greatest enemy – of his presence in
Berlin. We knew that he would arrive here sooner or later, due to the confirmed
data about Zemo’s whereabouts – which was also doctrine by my forces to lure
you here – we simply did not know when. And he supplied it for us.
“And who is this?” Skull
asked motioning toward the man standing before Striker, who had the piece
pressed into his back.
“His name is Sergeant Nick
Fury, one of the wounded members of this failed strike team.”
“Ahh . . .”
The brightness of his smile was
dimmed by the rage of a massive explosion outside the painted glass windows.
Alarms sounded and chaos erupted among the Nazis in the massive gathering as
they all scrambled around in order to safe themselves.
“Protect the Fuhrer!”
Someone called out and Hitler was quickly whisked away from the scene. Another
explosion sounded sending shards of painted glass onto the crowds.
Fury suddenly felt the cool
touch of metal thrown into the back of his waistline. A quizzical glance painted
his features and he had no time to ponder this unexpected mass. For it was right
before he could feel Striker push him, harshly, downward. Nick Fury lunged
headlong with great force into the scrambling sea of people.
Baron Zemo, not liking where
this was heading, raced down stairs and stormed his way out of the building. He
had not a clue why they wanted him, all he did know was that they did and that
was good enough for him.
“Captain!” Striker shouted,
taking aim of Captain America’s right hand shackle and fired. The bullet did
not waver from its target. It tore through the bonds as if it wasn’t even
there. Captain America not bothering to ask questions, reached forward for his
left bond and tore it lose as well. Soon, with some more work, he was free. He
turned to Striker just in time to see his body shattered by a barrage of weapons
fire. He screamed aloud and collapsed to the ground, a pool of blood eased from
his crumbled body.
“Striker!” he yelled, right
before he saw the iron fist of Red Skull slam into the jaw of his face. He
grunted and dropped to his knees.
“Get up, American dog!”
With one hand in the other,
Captain America quickly slammed his fist into Skull’s midsection, doubling him
over. “Fury!” he called out, searching the sea of people trying to find his
soon-to-be best friend, to no avail.
“Right here, Cap!” Fury
called out, releasing Batman from his bonds.
“Batman, I’ll try and handle
the situation here you go and find Baron Zemo! We need him!” Cap ordered.
Another explosion rang out, sending debris bathing the Red Skull; he screamed
and scrambled to the back stage.
And before he could even finish his orders, the Dark Knight was gone, no where to be seen.
“Striker!” Cap hushed,
propping his hand under Striker’s blood covered head. “Striker. Do you hear
“Y-y-y-yes,” Striker hushed,
his eyes were blurring. “I . . . am . . . sorry . . . Captain . . . But . . .
he threatened to kill . . . my wife . . . and the . . . people in . . . the
Exodus . . . I . . .”
“Converse your strength.”
Striker reached outward with
blood soaked hands offering to Captain America, who took them without
hesitation. “Can you . . . can you do me a favor . . .son?”
“Can you make sure . . . that
my wife and the . . . Jews are out . . . of Berlin b-b-b-before . . . the Skull
gets his hands on them? Please . . .” he grunted.
He nodded once again. “I will,
“T-t-t-t-thank you, Captain . . . you are a . . . good . . . man . . .” his head went lulled back and he dead in Captain America’s arms.
Baron Zemo looked over his
shoulder, still running from the demon that had followed him from the stage and
deeper into the darkness, he was in a room filled with ammo crates. He turned
the corner only to run straight into something a towering green cloaked being.
“What the . . .?” Baron Zemo
grunted, as he crashed onto the floor before the massive being. “Who are you
and how dare you stand in the way of Baron Zemo the First!”
A green gloved hand reached out
touching Zemo on the head, and he calmly said one word, “Sleep.” And then Zemo was plunged into unconsciousness.
“Zemo!” Batman called
entering the cargo hold room.
“I have him, Batman,” a voice called out. Soon the Spectre
came out from the darkness, the limp form of Baron Zemo, in his arms.
“Is he . . .”
“No, I self induced sleep upon him. He is resting now.
We must go, Batman, for your task is not yet completed in this massive quest.”
“What about Captain America?” he asked.
“He has been dealt with. He will join us in the Void soon enough.
Come. We must go. Time is of the essence.” And just like that the three of
them were out of sight in a flash of pure golden light.
“Skull!” Captain America
bellowed rising to his feet, and running the direction of the debris pile only
to be stopped by a being emerging from a golden gateway.
“Captain! We must depart,”
Access said with the utmost urgency.
“What about Zemo, Access?”
Cap asked dashing toward his shield and strapping it onto his muscular forearm.
“Spectre and Batman have
already placed him in the Void with the others!” He could hear the adrenaline
pumping in his ears as bullets flew past his head. “We must go!”
“What about them?” he said
cocking a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the brave men that were fighting
for their lives against incredible odds. The Nazis were overrunning them. What
was first a gunfight had devolved into an all out brawl. “I lead them into
this! I cannot abandon them! I refuse to!”
With a wave of his hand, Access
had teleported them to their proper time and place. “They are where they
belong, Captain. Proper place, proper time. Soon the memories of yours and
Batman’s arrival will fade and they will forget everything that happened
here.” When he saw the look on Cap’s face, Access added, “A draw back in
time travel. A way that the time stream ‘heals’ itself after a time travel
“I need to go somewhere,”
Captain America urged, looking at the shattered body of the late Tiberuis
Striker. “I have a dying wish to keep.”
“But it’ll distort the
timeline . . .” Access said, then saw the look on the captain’s face and
took in a deep breath then let it out harshly. “All right. All right.”
And they stepped into the gateway and were no more.
“These people need to get out
of Berlin, Access. They’re in danger, and since it was my presence here that
caused their lives to be threatened it is my duty to see that they get out of
here,” Captain America told him, as he and Access entered deeper into the
darkness that is the Exodus. A
small boy ran toward Captain America and he picked him off from the ground. They
were all there, Terri and all of the others were there.
“And I suppose you have an
A smirk danced his face. “In
fact I do. There’s an abandon homestead in a distant Iowa farm. You can live
off the land, and you’d be safe from the Nazis,” he told them all.
“Where are we going,
Captain?” the boy asked, quizzically.
“Home, son. Home.”
Shards of Destiny continues in Part 1 of Beyond Infinity!
Thank you for reading this chapter of Marvel/DC: Shards of Destiny! The saga continues in Shards of Destiny #14. Visit the Marvel/DC Cosmic Crossovers Archive for previous editions. Now, be sure to send us feedback below or by e-mailing firstname.lastname@example.org