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  1. Episode 5: The Long and the Short and Tall August 3rd. Brooklyn, New York. Benton’s Pharmacy. Diana looked unimpressed through the window of the sedan at the faded sign of Benton’s. “Just how many more of these dumps are you going to drag me to see? I already told you, I don’t know what made me say Benton.” Peggy opened the door and walked over to Jarvis in the driver’s seat with Angie sitting next to him. “You also don’t know how you are able to shoot a gun. At the moment, this is our only lead. Mr. Jarvis, you know the drill. Keep Miss Adams out of sight. Angie, stay with Mr. Jarvis.” Angie shot a salute with a grin. “Yes, ma’am.” Peggy turned and headed for the pharmacy. “Jervis,” Diana moaned. “I’m hungry. Do you think we could get something to eat?” “Our instructions our to wait for Miss Carter, and render assistance as it is needed,” Jarvis said, not turning to look at Diana. “But she’ll be fine! I need some food!” Angie turned around with a look of impatience. “Listen, lady! We’re all hungry! But if you walk out there, someone could see you and call the cops! So just sit there and be quiet!” Diana looked taken aback, then sat back in her seat. “Well put, Miss Martinelli,” said Jarvis approvingly. “Hey, it’s all in the projection. It’s acting thing.” The bell at the door of the pharmacy chimed as Peggy entered. There were no customers inside at the booths or the counter. Jean Benton stood wiping a glass with a towel before she noticed Peggy and set it aside. “Welcome to Benton’s Pharmacy, miss. How can I help you?” Peggy approached the counter and reached in her purse. “Good morning. My name is Peggy Carter. I’m wanting to speak with your husband about an urgent matter.” She pulled out a newspaper clipping with a picture of Diana Adams accepting a bouquet of flowers. “Have you ever seen this lady before? Perhaps she came here as a customer?” Jean Benton took the clipping at examined the picture carefully for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t recall seeing her around here. Why? Is she in some sort of trouble?” The door to the backroom swung open and Dr. Benton hurried out. “Jean, I’ve been looking over our supply of penicillin. We might need a few more boxes in case of… oh! I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t know you were waiting on a customer.” “Robert,” Jean said in hushed tones. “She was asking for you. Something about a woman.” Dr. Benton looked uncomfortable at Peggy. “Well, miss, what exactly is this about?” Peggy showed him the clipping. “Dr. Benton, this woman. Have you seen her? Think carefully. It’s most important.” Dr. Benton squinted at the picture. “I don’t know. We do have a lot of customers come through here. Well, not today anyway. But what’s this all about?” Peggy put the clipping back in her purse. “Her name is Diana Adams. She has found herself in a rather difficult situation. She seems to believe you can help her.” Dr. Benton shook his head. “I’m sorry, miss. But I don’t even know any Diana Adams.” “Robert!” Jean interrupted. “Diana Adams! Isn’t that the name they said on the radio? The actress who went crazy?” “That’s what I’m trying to find out, Miss Benton,” Peggy said. Meanwhile, in the sedan, Diana sat up in the backseat and pointed at the window of the pharmacy. “That’s him! That’s Dr. Benton!” Angie looked back in frustration. “Are you sure? Oh wait. Don’t tell me. You don’t know.” “Don’t be ridiculous! I don’t know how but I’m sure of it! I know that man! I need to talk to him!” Before Jarvis could lock the doors, Diana had flung hers open and ran down the street to the pharmacy. “Does this happen a lot with you and Peggy?” asked Angie. “More than you realize,” said Jarvis as they jumped from the car in pursuit. “With all due respect, miss…” “Carter. Peggy Carter.” Dr. Benton nodded as he headed for the door. “I don’t have any interest in getting involved in something that isn’t my business. I don’t know this Adams woman and I’ve never seen…” The door banged open, the force nearly causing the bell to fly off it’s mounting. Diana entered the pharmacy with Jarvis and Angie behind her. She looked at Dr. Benton with the expression of a woman trying to put a name to a face. “Doctor? It is you, Dr. Benton?” “I’m sorry, Miss Carter,” said Jarvis. “She got away from us.” Jean Benton rushed to the phone. “I’m calling the police right now!” “Jean, wait!” shouted Dr. Benton, his eyes fixed on Diana. “But, Robert! She’s a criminal!” “Jean, please!” Dr. Benton looked intently at Diana. “Miss Adams? This seems most unusual, but… I have the strangest sensation I’ve met you somewhere before.” Diana nodded desperately. “Yes! Yes! I feel the same way! I know your name, your face! But I don’t remember meeting you! Please, you’ve got to help me!” Peggy stepped in between the two. “Dr. Benton, have you felt that sensation before? Perhaps memories you can’t quite place? Certain… skills you don’t remember learning?” Dr. Benton gave a worried glance to Jean then back to Peggy. “Can I trust you, Miss Carter?” Angie looked at Jarvis. “Just great. We found another one.” Soho, New York. Sky High Lounge. On the fifteenth floor of a skyscraper, the Sky High Lounge prided itself on serving the richest, most well-to-do clientele. Well-dressed couples chatted as they gave orders to waiters and ate their brunch. Suddenly the large, floor length windows exploded, sending glass flying toward screaming patrons. They ducked under tables and looked where the windows had been to behold the sight of a man in a silver suit, apparently standing as tall as the fifteenth floor. He held a gatling gun and motioned toward the guests. “Alright, ladies and gents! This is a stick up! Kindly hand your money and jewelry to your servers, and they will place them on the window sill. Anyone tries to be a hero, and you’re all dead!” Slowly, the helpless people did as they were bidden, and the pile of valuables was placed before Stilt Man. He let his gatling gun hang by the strap on his shoulder, then lifted up a device that resembled a vacuum cleaner attachment. The device sucked up the loot and deposited it in the canister on his back. He attached the device to his belt, then hoisted up the gatling gun at the terrified guests. “Pleasure doing business with you, folks! Hope you didn’t lose your appetites! Bye for now!” Stilt Man trod away from the building down the street, his metallic footsteps causing reverberations that could be felt for blocks. Suddenly, a boomerang collided with Stilt Man’s helmet. He looked up at the rooftops to see the Daredevil, catching the boomerang with ease. “What’s the big idea?!” Stilt Man yelled indignantly. “This is my score!” The Daredevil leapt off the rooftop and caught hold of Stilt-Man’s leg. Stilt-Man swung the gatling gun into position and aimed. “Get off!” He opened fire, forcing the Daredevil to leap away to avoid a hail of bullets. Benton’s Pharmacy. Dr. Benton sat slumped in a chair, Jean by his side. Peggy and Diana stood in front of the pair, while Jarvis and Angie looked on from the counter. “I have been experiencing some… unusual symptoms,” Dr. Benton said. “It started a couple of days ago. I was having these rather vivid dreams. Scenes of battle, chaos. I assumed it was just aftershocks from the war, but these seemed so real. Not just dreams, but… memories.” “Yes!” interrupted Diana. “Me too! I remember the same thing! See, Carter? I told you I wasn’t crazy!” Peggy held up a hand to silence Diana, then looked back to Dr. Benton. “Anything else you can remember?” Dr. Benton closed his eyes and winced. Jean took his hand comfortingly. “Robert, please. Talk to them.” Dr. Benton opened his eyes, then he got up from the chair and walked to the backroom. Jean looked back at Peggy. “I really hope this is all worth it. I really thought he was getting better. Adjusting to being back home. But now…” Peggy put her hand on Jean’s shoulder. “I assure you, Miss Benton. We are going to find out exactly what’s going on with Miss Adams and your husband.” Dr. Benton returned from the backroom carrying the white gift box. Diana gasped. “What are you doing with that? That looks like the box I got! The one I got delivered to me before I…” Her voice trailed off, as Dr. Benton lifted the lid to reveal the Black Terror costume. “This was delivered to the pharmacy before my nightmares returned. Then a group of racketeers came here to try to force us to pay up. I can’t explain what happened next. It was like I knew instinctively what to do, how to track them, how to fight them.” “Oh, Robert,” said Jean. “It’s alright, Jean,” Dr. Benton said. “But it appears Miss Adams and I have a similar problem. And we may not be the only ones.” “What do you mean?” asked Peggy. “Who else is there?” “While I was dealing with those hoodlums, I came across another gifted, masked individual. People have been spreading rumors of a ‘devil’ in Hell’s Kitchen. He certainly lives up to the name. He would have killed those criminals in cold blood if I hadn’t stopped him.” Suddenly the music on the radio was cut short. The radio announcer’s voice rang out. “We interrupt your music to bring this special police bulletin! Please stay clear of the Williamsburg area! Police say there is a criminal getaway in progress! That’s right! Multiple reports of some looney with a boomerang fighting some hold up man on stilts! Just another day in New York, eh, folks? Well, either way, don’t go there to gawk. Please stay at home until the police give the all clear! We now return to your regular scheduled music entertainment!” The music came back on and Dr. Benton spun to face. “It’s him! I need to stop him!’ “You’re not going anywhere, Robert!” Jean said. “I must agree with your wife, Dr. Benton,” said Peggy. “It’s too dangerous.” “Don’t you understand?” Dr. Benton snapped. “He will pursue that man until he kills him! And he won’t care who gets hurt until he completes his objective!” “And what is his objective, doctor?” Peggy asked sternly. “What else are you not telling me?” Dr. Benton tried to gather his composure. “I don’t know. Honestly. But I can help. I can make sure that whoever he is chasing can be brought in safely. Please. I might not know where my abilities came from, but I can still use them!” Peggy looked at Jarvis and Angie, then back toward Jean Benton. Jean sighed, and hugged her husband. “You promise me you’ll come home.” Dr. Benton returned her embrace. “I promise.” Jean looked to Peggy. “And you make sure he’s alright?” “You have my word, Miss Benton.” “And I’m coming too!” said Diana. “No!” Peggy said firmly. “You’ll stay right here with Angie and Mr. Jarvis. You say you’re an actress? Take that as your direction. Is that clear?” Diana sat in a booth and pouted. “And you be careful as well, Miss Carter,” said Mr. Jarvis. “Whenever possible, Mr. Jarvis.” OK: Black Terror wins by capturing Stilt Man. Daredevil wins by killing Stilt Man. Stilt Man wins by evading both heroes. Peggy will be there to lend assistance to Black Terror. Can our heroes stop Stilt Man? Stay Tuned and find out! Game On!
  2. Episode 4: Don’t Go Nowhere August 2nd, 1947. Los Angeles, California. Metropolitan State Hospital “It’s so lovely to see you come visit Miss Frost like this, Mr. Manfredi,” said the doctor. “You must care about her a great deal.” The man who looked like Joseph Manfredi knelt next to the chair where the once critically acclaimed actress Whitney Frost sat. Ever since her encounter with Zero Matter, she had been reduced to a near catatonic state. She just sat in her straitjacket and gazed out the window with a bland expression on her face. “We go a long way back,” ‘Joseph’ said gazing at her. “I just got to believe that she’s still in there. That one of these days you people could bring her back.” The doctor nodded nervously. “Well, there are always new therapies we try. But it will take time, and I can’t guarantee they won’t be painful. But there is a chance…” ‘Joseph’ rose to his feet, gently stroking Whitney’s cheek. “I got to go now,” he whispered. “You take care of yourself, beautiful. Ok?” Whitney remained silent. ‘Joseph’ turned and walked out of the room, and the doctor locked the door behind them. “We will keep you informed if there are any changes, Mr. Manfredi,” the doctor said as they walked down the hall. They passed a room and heard shouting coming from inside. ‘Joseph’ shook his head. “He’s still going at it, huh?” “Mr. Carter is just having a rough morning,” said the doctor, increasing his pace. “He’s been having a rough morning every time I come here,” remarked ‘Joseph’. “I wouldn’t want Whitney to be disturbed because that nut doesn’t know when to shut up.” “I’m sorry, Mr. Manfredi, but we’re…” “Doing the best you can. I know.” ‘Joseph’ turned down a highway that led to the front door of the hospital. “I can find my way from here. See you next week, doc. You just make sure you let me know if there’s any changes. Got it?” The doctor gulped as ‘Joseph’ walked out the door of the hospital. He gathered himself and turned toward a nurse with black hair pushing a cart with trays of medication. “Nurse? Nurse! I’m sorry, you’re one of the new interns. What was your name again?” “Locke, doctor. Nurse Locke.” “Well, Nurse Locke, if you could find me the doctor in charge of Mr. Carter, please? I want to discuss a possible change in Mr. Carter’s regimen.” Nurse Locke continued on her way. “Yes, doctor.” Outside of the hospital, Dmitri, still disguised as Joseph Mafredi, walked toward a large truck parked a few blocks away. He walked up to the drivers’ side and looked in on the muscular gentleman at the wheel. “Is everything prepared?” Dmitri said in Joseph’s voice. “Everything’s green, Mr. Manfredi. We’re ready to roll,” the man said. “The boss is just waiting for you to give him the word.” Dmitri gave a last look at the hospital. “Do it. He can have his fun now.” The man put his hand to his ear, tapping the small, circular device in it. “Did you hear that, Arcade? Client has given you the all clear.” “Well, goody, Mr. Chambers! Miss Locke! Are the rest of our guests ready to play?” Miss Locke covertly tapped the device tucked in her right ear. “Yes, Arcade. A good assortment of doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors. Should be quite a spectacle.” “Brilliant! And I must say you look quite a treat in that uniform, Miss Locke.” Miss Locke shot a look toward a hidden camera in the ceiling. “Thank you, Arcade.” “Alrighty then! Enough of the chit chat! It’s show time!” As if on cue, large metallic doors started slamming shut in front of each exit of the hospital. People shouted out in alarm as every avenue of escape was blocked by walls of steel. “Yowza, yowza, ladies and gentlemen!” a voice cried out over the PA system. “Step right up! Welcome to the midway! You might be crazy to get in here, but you would be even crazier to try to leave!” “What the hell?” the doctor said in shock. A group of interns rushed to one of the steel doors, but as soon as they touched it they screamed in pain. The sound of electric current and the smell of burning flesh filled the hallway. After a few moments, they fell dead on the tiled floor. “Ah ah ah!” chided Arcade. “Just one of the many shocking things to see, folks! Hurry, hurry! How about trying the shooting gallery? Hit the target, win the kewpie doll!” A panel opened in the wall to reveal a machine gun that peppered the hallway with bullets. People ran and screamed in terror as the sound of a calliope playing carnival music blared over the PA. Los Angeles, California. Auerbach Theatrical Agency (SSR Office). Rose Roberts sat at her desk typing as Aloysius Samberly walked in from the hidden entrance to the SSR. He leaned against the desk in an attempt to be casual. “So, Rose, how you doing today?” “Fine,” she said, not looking up from her typewriter. Samberly cleared his throat. “Well, um… would like to know what I’ve found about that key Chief Sousa gave me?” “Not particularly.” Samberly looked hurt. “Why not?” Rose turned towards him with a look of irritation. “Because you’ve been looking over that key for days and have found nothing. And if you had found something you would have told it to Chief Sousa, and no one knows where he is.” Samberly gave a sigh of resignation. “Ok, fine. I seem to have hit a brick wall. I haven’t learned anything new from any analysis I’ve tried on that key. Which is why, um… I was thinking about taking a break, and I was wondering if um… you could join me for a bite to eat?” Rose smiled at Samberly. “Why, Aloysius, are you asking me on a date?” “What? A date? No! Well, that is… Yes. I suppose I am.” Before Rose could answer, the entrance to the SSR office opened and a number of agents ran out. “What’s going on?” Rose asked Agent Ryan, who was in charge in Sousa’s absence. “We just got an anonymous tip,” he replied hurriedly. “Report of gunfire coming from the Met State Hospital.” “Isn’t that where Whitney Frost is being held?” said Samberly. “Don’t worry, Samberly,” one of the agents said mockingly. “We’re headed over there now. We won’t let her make you faint again.” The other agents chuckled as Ryan put on his hat. “Enough of the comedy! Get your gear! If someone is trying to bust out Frost, it’s our job to find out what’s going on and keep her behind bars! Move it!” Rose and Samberly looked on stunned as the agents all headed out the door. From his car parked across the street, Dmitri watched as the agents ran out of the Auerbach Talent Agency, piled into cars and sped off. He removed his mask of Joseph Manfredi, and looked at the new mask he had sitting on the seat next to him. It was the face of Daniel Sousa. Metropolitan State Hospital Bruce Carter fought against the leather restraints that held him pinned to his bed. He grunted with exertion, but they would not give. He could hear the sounds of screaming and gunfire from outside his door, and the incessant carnival music. People are in trouble. They need your help, Bruce. Bruce closed his eyes tight and tried to block out the voice. “No! I can’t do anything! I can do nothing!” Nothing? A Carter can do nothing?! It was the Carters that fought at Bunker Hill! It was the Carters that fought at Gettysburg! “I’ve already fought! I don’t want to fight anymore!” “Now here this, ladies and gentlemen!” Arcade’s voice shouted over the PA. “You want more thrills and chills? Well, don’t worry! You can find it all with Arcade! In just a moment, we’re going to have some more guests! That’s right, folks! Fresh from the intensive care ward, they’re the most blood thirsty bunch of loonies this side of the Mississippi! And they’re just dying to meet you! And you’ll be dying when you meet them!” Do you hear that, Bruce? That loon is going to release the violent patients! If the traps he’s set up don’t kill those people, then those criminals will! You have to help them! Bruce flexed his muscles and roared as he pushed against the straps. Finally they snapped and flew apart. Bruce fell of the bed, breathing heavily. You see? You do have strength left! Remember, Bruce? “Over there, over there! Send the word, send the word, over there! That the Yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming, the drums rum tumming everywhere!” Bruce covered his ears to block out the voice singing, gritting his teeth. He screamed in agony. “SHUT UP!!” He slammed a fist into the floor that smashed a hole in it. Bruce looked at his fist, then toward the white gift box sitting on the chair. The voice continued to sing. “So prepare, say a prayer. Send the word, send the word to beware.” Nurses and doctors ran down the hallway as a group of patients chased after them, armed with whatever they could find. They had passed Bruce’s door when the door flew off it’s hinges. The patients looked behind them in confusion. They saw Bruce Carter III, in blue pants, a shirt with an American flag on it, a cape, a tricorn hat and a mask. The Fighting Yank stood boldly with a resolute look on his face as the voice in his head sang all the louder. “We’re coming over, we’re coming over. And we won’t come back till it’s over over there!” OK: Can the Fighting Yank defeat Arcade’s death traps? What are Dmitri’s plans for the SSR? Stay Tuned and find out! Game On!
  3. Episode 3: Headin’ Down the Wrong Highway August 1st, 1947. Somewhere over the Midwest United States. Daniel Sousa looked out the window of Howard Stark’s private plane. The sunlight reflected off the wings and scattered across the clouds below them. “Would you like something, sir?” Daniel turned to see the attractive redhead in a white stewardess uniform smiling down at him. She gestured to the beverage cart in front of her. “Um… no. Thanks.” She shrugged and continued on as Howard Stark, in a airline pilot’s outfit and sunglasses, opened the cabin door that led to the cockpit. He squeezed past the cart and gave a wink to the stewardess as she made her way behind the curtain. “It’s the only way to travel, eh, Agent Sousa?” Howard said, sitting down next to Daniel. “I appreciate you letting me use your plane, Howard, but you really didn’t need to come along.” Howard adjusted his seat to recline back. “Don’t be ridiculous. You said so yourself. Somebody seems really keen to get their hands on Peg’s file. And they don’t care about shooting people to do it. After all she’s done for me, I owe her one. Probably more than one.” Howard then took off the sunglasses and shot Daniel a grin. “Besides, if I help the SSR catch a guy who shot one of their agents, it might give me another feather in my cap with the higher ups.” Daniel rolled his eyes. “I should have known. You’re all heart, aren’t you?” “I’m serious! If I play my cards right, I might wind up running the SSR in a year. Maybe two!” “God helps us all,” Daniel muttered under his breath. But Howard was already getting out of his seat. “Relax, Daniel. I’ve already spoke to my contacts in London about this Driscoll. He’s a boozehound, but he’s a creature of habit. We’ll find him, and then you can ask him all you want to know about Peg’s file. For now, close your eyes and enjoy the flight. I’m going to uh… check the galley. Important to make sure we have enough food.” Daniel gave him a knowing look. “And enough drinks?” Howard’s grin widened. “You’re getting the idea, Agent.” Howard donned his glasses and ducked behind the curtain. Daniel sighed and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the noises from the galley. New York City, New York. Midtown South precinct. “I must say I am shocked, Miss Carter,” said Acting Chief Flynn in a lecturing tone. “I read in your file that you had a tendency to knock over hornet’s nests. But this?! Not even 24 hours back in New York, and you wind up in the middle of a shoot out!” Peggy sat at the table in the interrogation room, watching Flynn pace back and forth in front of her. Her patience had just about reached it’s limit. “Chief Flynn….” “Acting Chief Flynn!” “Sir! I assure you I was not trying to find trouble. I was going to that theater to support a friend of mine. Have the police found Angie yet?” Flynn folded his arms in front of him. “I am sure the NYPD is doing a thorough job looking for Miss Martinelli. They may be a little more preoccupied in the search for this Adams woman.” Peggy got up from the table, walking gingerly after her fight with Miss Masque. “Sir, the SSR needs to assist in this investigation! Miss Adams is not in her right frame of mind, and appears to possess intensive combat training.” “Miss Carter, the NYPD are dealing with the Adams investigation. I’m sure they can handle some woman who obviously suffered some sort of nervous breakdown.” “A nervous breakdown? Miss Adams went from being a one woman army to a scared child. Somethings not right here, Chief, and I’m thinking it might have something to do with these Maggia attacks.’ Flynn scoffed. “Still trying to insert yourself into that investigation, Miss Carter? The reports clearly state that the individual behind these assaults is a man in red and blue costume wielding a boomerang. This is a case of a highly strung actress who snapped, nothing more, nothing less.” Peggy was about to protest, when the door to the interrogation room opened and a police officer stuck his head in. “Miss Carter? We called the Stark house and Miss Martinelli is there, but she says she needs to speak to you.” Peggy breezed past Flynn and out the door. “Don’t think I’m not done with you, Carter!” he yelled. “You get yourself to Stark’s mansion and stay there until you are called upon! Is that clear?” “Oh sod off,” Peggy muttered under her breath. She reached the desk and was handed the phone by the officer on duty. “Angie? It’s Peggy. Where have you been? Mr. Jarvis and I looked for you after the police got to the theater and couldn’t find you!” “Sorry, English,” Angie’s voice replied. “Something came up.” Peggy could hear the nervous tone in Angie’s voice. “Angie, what’s wrong? Is someone with you?” “I don’t have time. You need to come to the mansion, as quick as you can. No cops. Nobody from the telephone company. You understand?” Peggy looked around the precinct, trying to gather herself. “Angie? I need you to stay calm. I’m on my way with Mr. Jarvis. We’re coming to get you.” “Thanks, Peg. Don’t keep me waiting, will ya?” Angie placed the telephone on the receiver. She was sitting in her room in the Stark mansion, and in front of her was Diana Adams. She was still in her Miss Masque attire minus the mask, and her revolver was aimed at Angie. “Well, I did what you asked, Diana,” Angie tried to say calmly. “Could you put the gun down, and maybe we could talk about this?” “We have nothing to talk about it!” shouted Angie. “I need to talk to Carter!” “Why? Why her? She’s just a girl who works for the telephone company!” Diana gave a humorless laugh. “Oh please. It’s obvious. The way she fights, the way she tries to deescalate conflicts. All the marks of an operative. I need her.” Angie looked at the door behind Diana. “And how would you know about that stuff? Listening to the Shadow or something?” Diana’s face grew pale. Her expression became scared and confused. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. I don’t know how I was able to fight her like I did. Or how I was able to fight off Nefaria’s guards.” Her expression suddenly became more confident and she re-aimed her revolver at Angie. “I also don’t know how I know the most efficient ways to kill someone, but I know them. And I will not be afraid to use them if Carter doesn’t give me what I want.” Angie’s breath quickened and she bit her lip. “And just what do you want?” she sobbed. Diana’s face softened once again. “I want to know.” London, England. The Lady Coleen pub. Nick Driscoll sat at the bar, finishing up his pint. He slammed down his glass, and wiped some of the beer from his mouth. “Barkeep! Another round, if you please!” “And I’ll pay for it!” Driscoll looked in surprise as Howard Stark sat on the stool next to his. “Listen, mate, I don’t need help buying drinks.” Howard gave a friendly smile. “Oh it’s no trouble at all. In fact, I know a great place where you can enjoy that beer. Make your way to the private room on the other end of the bar.” Driscoll snorted and picked up his drink. “Push off, yank. I’m drinking this here.” Driscoll suddenly felt the pressure of an object into his ribs. Howard continued smiling and his tone stayed cheerful as he spoke. “I know you are in government intelligence. So I know you know who I am. And you know what I can make. The item that’s being jabbed into your ribs is a little gadget I’ve been working on. A flick of a switch, and I send an electrical current into your body. The mildest setting might just shock you, but the stronger setting will send you into cardiac arrest. So you can either drop right here and everyone will think you’re having a seizure, or you can get yourself to the back room slowly, and you’ll get to finish your drink.” Driscoll gulped, then rose from his stool and made his way to the back room with Howard behind him. In the private room, Daniel sat at a booth. “Did he give you any trouble?” Howard shook his head, pulling the spoon out from Driscoll’s back. “Oh none at all. Thanks to my latest invention. I think I’ll call it… the spoon.” Driscoll looked in disbelief at Daniel. “What is this? I know he’s Howard Stark, but who the bloody hell are you?” “I’m a friend of Jack Thompson,” said Daniel, his eyes not wavering from Driscoll. “I want to know where you got the file you gave him.” Driscoll looked behind him and gave a nervous laugh. “File? What file? Look, you say you’re a friend of Jack’s? So am I. It was just a mistake, alright?” “A mistake that nearly got Jack killed,” Daniel said rising from the booth. Driscoll fell back into a chair in shock. “Killed? My God. You mean, someone tried to kill Jack?” “And then ran off with the file you gave him. The file on Peggy Carter!” Driscoll held up his hands in front of him pleading. “Look, mate, let me explain! I didn’t mean to give him the wrong file! I didn’t!” Howard and Daniel shared a look, then Daniel turned back to Driscoll. “What do you mean the wrong file?” Driscoll loosened his tie and set his pint on the table. “Jack asked me to do him a favor. He wanted information on Margaret Carter. I searched through the SOE files and found a redacted file under M. Carter and I figured it was hers!” “You handed Jack a file without even knowing it was the right one?” barked Daniel. “It was a redacted file!” Driscoll argued. “I didn’t think he was going to make heads or tails of it anyway! But then I did some more digging, in case he wanted more dirt on Carter. But then I found it! That file wasn’t for Margaret Carter! It was…” Driscoll’s pleas were cut short as a bullet from a silenced pistol pierced his skull. “Howard! Get down!” Daniel and Howard hit the floor as another round of bullets flew in from the bar. Daniel flipped the table over to give them cover and peeked over it. There were 6 men in trench coats at the bar, and all of them were armed. The rest of the patrons were gone, and the bartended was slumped across the counter, dead. Daniel drew his pistol and returned fire. “I hope you have something more threatening than that spoon, Stark!” Daniel shouted. Howard reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a handheld metallic device with prongs on the end. “I certainly do. I have my electric zapper, and I also have a couple of jitterbug grenades. Sonic blasts, non lethal. Haven’t been tested yet, though.” Daniel looked again at the assailants drawing closer. “Now’s as good a time as any.” OK: Daniel Sousa (Pistol and SSR training) and Howard Stark (Gadgets) vs 6 gunmen. Can Daniel and Howard escape this predicament? Stay tuned to find out! Game On!
  4. Episode 2: Pistol Packin’ Mama August 1st, 1947. New York City, New York. New York Bell Company (SSR Office) Peggy Carter strode passed the rows of desks and whispering agents straight to door to the chief agent’s office. She opened it to see a man with slightly balding brown hair and glasses looking over a file. He looked surprised at Peggy before clearing his throat and shuffling the file under some paperwork on the desk. “Miss Carter! Um, I wasn’t expecting you coming in so soon.” He offered a handshake with a bland smile. “John Flynn, Acting Chief of East Coast SSR Operations.” Peggy shook his hand and took a seat in front of the desk. “A pleasure to meet you, Agent Flynn. I would like to get started as soon as…” “Acting Chief Flynn,” he interrupted. Peggy looked confused. “I’m sorry?” Flynn moved to sit at the desk as he explained. “The correct title is Acting Chief. It’s proper protocol. Due to Agent Thompson’s unfortunate… incident, I will be in charge here for the foreseeable future. But enough about that. I trust your flight from California was er… comfortable?” Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Peggy pressed on. “It was a long flight…, Acting Chief. But it did give me time to go over the files regarding these Maggia attacks.” Flynn coughed nervously. “Really? You are familiar with the Maggia?” “Yes, sir. A collection of criminal families that joined together at the turn of the century. The most prominent of these families were the Manfredi’s, headed by Silvio ‘SIlvermane’ Manfredi. Have you picked up any new information regarding the attacker? The file has an eyewitness account of a man in some sort of costume using a boomerang as a primary weapon.” “You are certainly thorough, Miss Carter,” interrupted Flynn. “Agent,” replied Peggy. “That is my correct title.” Flynn folded his hands and leaned back in his chair. “Miss Carter. We have our best operatives coordinating with the FBI to learn the truth behind these killings. With so many men relegated to this, we will be needing all hands on deck here in the office. I understand you do have some experience in codebreaking?” Peggy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Am I to understand that you had me fly all the way from California to do office work?” Flynn rose from his seat and put his hand on Peggy’s shoulder. “I assure you, Miss Carter, there is no job too small in the SSR. Your assistance here will be greatly appreciated. For now, I would encourage you to rest up after your long flight, and come in ready to go to work tomorrow. That will be all, Miss Carter.” Flynn went back to his seat and started reading the file he had hidden. Peggy got up and walked to the door. But she then turned around with a defiant look in her eyes. “Permission to speak freely, Agent Flynn?” Flynn sighed but didn’t look up from his file when he answered. “Acting Chief Flynn, please, Miss Carter. But granted.” “I know you are new to the New York office. But I can assure you that I could be of more assistance in the field than sitting here sifting through paperwork. And if you’ve read my file you would know that.” Flynn slammed the file on his desk and glared at Peggy. “I did read your file, miss. And it is not your place to decide who goes where in the SSR. I have my best men on this investigation, and you will go where I assign you to go. Is that clear?” Peggy’s grip tightened on the door knob as she turned it and walked out. “Perfectly clear…, Acting Chief.” Peggy walked out of the New York Bell Company building that served as the SSR’s cover. She made her way to the curb, where a black sedan waited for her. Standing alongside it was Edwin Jarvis, Howard Stark’s butler, and Peggy’s loyalist friend. “I trust by your speedy return that things did not go well, Miss Carter?” he asked as Peggy walked towards him. “No, they did not go well, Mr. Jarvis. The man they found to fill in for Jack is a patronizing idiot. All I’ve been through with the SSR and I’m back to being a glorified secretary!” “Well, it won’t be the first time you’ve dealt with boorish persons,” Jarvis mused. “Perhaps you can find a way to still be able to assist in this Maggia business.” Peggy leaned against the sedan and crossed her arms, gazing up at the New York Bell building. “Not if Acting Chief Flynn has anything to say about it.” Jarvis opened the door for Peggy and she sighed and climbed inside. Jarvis then walked around to get behind the wheel. “Where to now, Miss Carter?” Peggy let her head lean back into the soft leather of her seat and gave a wry smile. “Home, Mr. Jarvis. I’ve just had a long flight and I wouldn’t want to overexert myself.” New York City, New York. The mansion of Howard Stark. “English!” Angie Martinelli shouted in delight. Peggy’s roommate rushed down the staircase to give her a big hug. Peggy returned it as Jarvis brought in her luggage. “Angie, it’s so good to see you again.” Angie held Peggy’s hands a took a step back. “Let me take a look at you! Did you get a tan? Ugh, if you weren’t my friend I’d hate you! I’d give anything to go to California! Did you see any movie stars while you were there?” Peggy and Jarvis exchanged a look, then Jarvis went back to get more suitcases from the car. “Well, I really didn’t have the time to do much sightseeing.” Angie gave a knowing grin. “Hard at work with the telephone company, huh? Well, you must have been busy to not reply to my letters. I finally got it!” “Got what?” Peggy asked. “What do you mean ‘got what’? The part! I got the part in the show I was telling you about!” Peggy started walking with Angie out of the lobby to the lounge. “Oh, Angie! Congratulations! What part did you get?” Angie waved her hand dismissively. “Ah, it’s in the chorus. But it’s an actual professional production! They have Diana Adams in the lead for it!” The two friends sat down on the sofa as Jarvis finished carrying in the luggage. “Diana Adams? Well, that is impressive. I hear she is quite a talent.” “Yeah, and you probably heard it from her. Oh, don’t get me wrong, English, she’s good and all, but she’s kind of a stuck up. Goes on and on about doing a USO show with Captain America once.” The clock mantlepiece started to chime 3 o’clock, causing Angie to jump up from the couch. “Yikes! 3 already! I need to get going! Say! Why don’t you come along? We can get Jarvis to drive us and you can sit in on the rehearsal.” “Actually, Miss Martinelli,” interrupted Jarvis as he headed towards the kitchen. “Miss Carter has had a long flight and I was just about to start the preparations for dinner.” Angie quickly ran in front Jarvis and blocked his way. “No! I mean, um, you don’t have to eat here. There’s a great little bakery on the corner across from the theater. Their bagels are to die for. It’ll be my treat for you two.” Jarvis gave a suspicious look. “Miss Martinelli, is there a reason why you don’t want me to go into the kitchen?” Angie glanced from the kitchen door to Jarvis. “Oh, no reason. No reason at all, Mr. Jarvis.” “You wouldn’t happen to have been practicing your tap routines in the kitchen again?” Angie gave a nervous laugh as she walked Jarvis back to the couch. “Oh, come on, Mr. Jarvis. I wouldn’t dream of doing that. After you told me last time. Er… so, what do you say? Will you come?” Peggy chuckled and nodded. “Yes, Angie, we’ll come.” Angie gave a hug to Jarvis and sped towards the stairs. “Great! You’ll love it! I just need to grab my purse and my coat from upstairs, and if we’re lucky we’ll miss the worst of the traffic. Be down in jiffy!” Jarvis turned to face Peggy as Angie’s running footsteps echoed through the mansion. “I know you are friends with Miss Martinelli, Miss Carter, and she is a friendly enough woman. But there are times where she makes me long for Bernard.” Peggy gave a friendly shove to Jarvis’ shoulder. “Really, Mr. Jarvis. Angie is certainly much more pleasant to have around than Howard Stark’s temperamental flamingo.” “At least, Miss Carter, temperamental flamingos do not wear tap shoes that leave black scuff marks all over Mr. Stark’s tiled floors.” Peggy bit her lip to keep from laughing as Angie ran back the stairs to join them with her purse in her right hand and her coat draped over her left arm. “Alright, my two favorite Brits. To the theater!” Manhattan, New York City, New York. 46th Street Theater. Angie pushed open the doors and led Peggy and Jarvis into the expansive theater. They walked passed the rows of chairs and towards the stage where several young women were chatting, stretching, and warming up for the rehearsal. “I still can’t believe it!” Angie said excitedly. “They did “Dark of the Moon” here, and now I’m going to be performing here! Just look at the size of this place!” Peggy grinned at Jarvis as his eyes were drawn to the other chorus girls. “Admiring the architecture, Mr. Jarvis?” Jarvis immediately snapped out of it. “Hmm? Oh! Really, Miss Carter, I am a married man, you will recall.” “MARTINELLI!” Angie winced as a man in suspenders and glasses fumed up the aisle toward them. “Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to be here 30 minutes ago!” Angie quickly set her purse down and took off her coat as she tried to explain. “Sorry, Mr. Hebson. The traffic was worse than I thought and…” “This is New York, Martinelli! You are paid to show up for rehearsals and dance! All we ask is that you try to both of those things on time!” Hebson then turned his eyes on Peggy and Jarvis. “And just what are you people doing here?” Peggy felt bad for Angie as she stammered. “Er…They’re a…couple of friends of mine. I thought they could…” “You aren’t paid to think, Martinelli,” Hebson snapped. “This isn’t some show in your church basement! This is an Equity rehearsal and we don’t need any busybodies snooping around and getting in the way!” Peggy stepped forward to Angie’s side. “Mr. Hebson, I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s anyway to talk to one of your performers.” Hebson glared at Peggy. “Look, lady, I’m trying to run a rehearsal, here. You and this string bean can clear out right now!” “Is there a problem, Mr. Hebson?” Peggy turned where the voice was coming from. Walking down the aisle was a man in a suit, a ruffled shirt, and an opera cloak. His black hair and beard were well maintained, and the lights glinted off the monocle in his right eye. He had a cane under his right arm, and two imposing gentlemen in suits and fedoras two steps behind him. Hebson’s attitude changed almost instantly. “Count! I’m sorry! I er… forgot you were coming in today. I was just dealing with a late arrival. Miss Adams hasn’t got here yet, and Miss Martinelli thought she could bring her friends here…” The count held up his hand to silence Hebson. “Calm yourself, Mr. Hebson,” he said in his Italian accent, as he gave an elegant bow to Peggy. "Forgive Mr. Hebson. The theater is a place for drama, some of it even on the stage. Permit me to introduce myself. I am the Count Luchino Nefaria. A pleasure to meet you, miss…?” Peggy flushed slightly as Nefaria kissed her hand. “Carter. Peggy Carter. And this is Mr. Edwin Jarvis.” Jarvis gave a small wave, but Nefaria had already turned his gaze back to Angie. “You should both be very proud of Miss Martinelli. She has shown a great deal of talent and potential. I am sure this won’t be the last play we will be seeing her in.” Angie beamed with pride. “Gee! I mean, thank you, sir. I mean, count.” “Think nothing of it, my dear,” Nefaria chuckled. “We didn’t mean to cause any trouble, count,” said Peggy. “We will be on our way and you can begin the rehearsal.” Nefaria waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense! I am here to observe the process myself. I am sure Miss Martinelli would appreciate seeing some familiar faces in the audience.” Hebson quickly cut between Peggy and Nefaria. “Er, but count! This is a closed rehearsal. What if they went to the papers? The critics would…” “You are not splitting the atom, Mr.Hebson. You are leading a choreography rehearsal. I’m sure Miss Carter and Mr. Jarvis will behave themselves so as to not interfere with the proceedings.” “But, count, I…” Hebson’s voice stopped as he noticed the stern look from Nefaria, and the sterner looks from the two bodyguards behind him. “Um, of course, count. Whatever you say.” Nefaria’s smile returned. “Brilliant! I will take my place in the house and I will leave you to do the same. A pleasure meeting you both, Miss Carter. Mr. Jarvis. Mr. Hebson, come with me. We need to discuss the Miss Adams situation.” Nefaria and his men strode to the back row of the theater and took their seats. Hebson gave a last dirty look to Angie. “Get in your rehearsal gear and get on the stage. We’ll be starting in 5 minutes with or without Miss Adams.” He hurried after Nefaria, and Angie, pausing a moment to share a wink with Peggy, rushed to join the other chorus girls on the stage. Peggy continued to look towards the back row. “So. That’s the famous Count Nefaria.” Jarvis nodded. “He has been in the papers a great deal lately. Donating art. Running charitable balls. And apparently being the bankroller of Miss Martinelli’s play.” Peggy’s expression grew more serious. “I’ve read about him too, Mr. Jarvis, but not in the society pages. In his file at the SSR. He has been investigated by the FBI for possible connections to various criminal organizations.” Jarvis glanced nervously toward Nefaria. “Organizations such as the Maggia?” “Helloooo, everyone!” Before Peggy could reply she was interrupted by the doors of the theater swinging open and a woman’s voice echoing around the room. She was an attractive woman with blonde hair and wore a blue dress, hat and sunglasses. She breezed passed Hebson and made her way down the aisle. Hebson rushed after her. “Miss Adams! We’ve been waiting for you for over 30 minutes! This is the fifth time this week!” “Oh, relax, Walter,” she said nonchalantly. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack one of these days. Like my mother always said, ‘Gentle, gentle’.” She stopped short when she saw Jarvis. “Well, well! Jervis!” Peggy turned to Jarvis. “You know her?” Jarvis cleared his throat. “Well, somewhat. By association.” Peggy closed her eyes and sighed. “Howard?” “Regrettably, yes.” Diana Adams strolled over to Jarvis with coy smile. “It’s been so long, Jervis. How is poor, busy Howard? Is this his new… friend?” Jarvis looked nervously back and forth from Diana and Peggy. “Um, this is Peggy Carter, an… associate of Mr. Stark. As for Mr. Stark himself, he’s still California working on his picture.” Diana nodded, feigning interest. “Oh, that’s nice. Jervis, when you see poor Howard next, maybe you could give him something for me?” Diana suddenly slapped Jarvis in the face. Peggy moved toward her as Hebson grabbed her arm. “Miss Adams, will you control yourself?” Diana sneered at Jarvis. “That’s for leaving me waiting for an hour at the Onyx! He’s lucky I don’t fly to California to deliver it to him in person!” “Miss Adams!” said Hebson. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” Diana looked confused at Hebson. “What are you talking about, Walter? I’m here now, so let’s get on with the rehearsal.” Hebson looked towards the back row. “Unfortunately it’s not that simple. Not this time. I regret to inform you that you will no longer be a part of this production.” Diana’s eyes flashed in anger. “What are you saying? You’re firing me?!” Hebson held out his hands to Diana. “This is out of my control, Miss Adams. This comes straight from the count himself. You’ve been constantly late for rehearsals and increasingly impossible to work with. You nearly got into a fist fight with a chorus girl at the last rehearsal.” “It was her fault!” Diana screeched. “She was the one out of place in the number! This is real rich! A man like Nefaria, with his two hoodlums is allowed to waltz into the theater whenever they want. Those are some people who’ve been in fist fights and God knows what else!” Peggy touched Diana’s shoulder. “Please, Miss Adams, if you would just take a moment to…” Diana pulled away from Peggy and glared at her. “Keep away from me! I don’t need sympathy from one of Howard Stark’s floozies!” “That’s enough, Diana!” snapped Hebson. “Go to your dressing room and clear it out. You’re done here!” Diana shoved Peggy out of the way past the rest of the chorus girls as she walked onto the stage. “I’m not done, Walter! You can’t throw me out that easily! Nobody pushes aside Diana Adams!” She ran backstage and slammed the door of her dressing room. She leaned against the door, looking to the ceiling in frustration. Then she looked toward the make up table. Sitting on the table in front of the mirror was a large white gift box wrapped in red, blue, and black ribbon. Back in the theater, Peggy tended to Jarvis as Hebson turned his attention to the chorus girls. “Alright, ladies, let get this thing moving. Martinelli! You take the lead for this bit.” Angie’s face lit up in surprise. “You want me to do lead?” “Just for the rehearsal, Martinelli. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Just try to do it right. Okay, Joe, start at the introduction, 5th measure. Places, ladies.” The chorus girls took their positions on the stage with Angie in front. A piano started a ragtime tune and they went into a tap routine. Peggy looked on in approval as she watched Angie seem to effortlessly take to the dance. No doubt after several hours of practice in Howard Stark’s kitchen. A series of gunshots suddenly rang out from the stage. The chorus girls screamed and started running in every direction. Angie ran to the wings out of sight as others ducked behind scenery. A woman in a red trench coat and skirt stormed onto the stage. She wore a domino mask and a red fedora, and she carried a revolver in both hands. Peggy and Jarvis ducked behind the row of chairs as Hebson ran behind the piano. “Nefaria!” the woman yelled. “Face your judgement!” Nefaria stayed in his seat as his bodyguards rushed the stage with guns drawn. The woman in red fired a bullet that struck one of them in the shoulder and the other in the hand. Both yelled in pain and dropped their guns, leaving her free to deliver a kick to the head that sent them collapsing into each other. She marched up the aisle with a revolver aimed at Nefaria. “You will not escape justice!” Peggy leapt from behind the row and tackled the woman to the ground. “Mr. Jarvis!” she yelled as she struggled to pin her to the floor. “Get the others out of here!” Jarvis nodded and hurried to the stage. He stood for a moment in front of the women as they looked frightened up at him. “Um, ladies, if we could all make our way to the exits?” They looked at him in disbelief for a moment before Angie jumped up. “You heard the man! Move it!” Angie took off with the chorus girls, Hebson, the pianist, and Jarvis right behind. The woman in red delivered a backhanded strike to Peggy, forcing her off. Peggy leaned against a chair as the woman stared at her. “This is not your concern. I am here for Nefaria.” Peggy got to her feet. “Is that you, Miss Adams? Why don’t we put a stop to this before more people get hurt?” “The only people who will get hurt are criminal scum like Nefaria. But if you’re going to defend him…” She drew her revolver only to have Peggy kick it aside. She delivered a right hand to the face of the woman who staggered back, but looked back at Peggy with a dangerous smile. “You’ll have to hit harder than that.” She gave a yell and leapt toward Peggy. OK: Can Peggy stop Miss Masque’s rampage? Or will Miss Masque bring Nefaria to ‘justice’? And what is Nefaria’s connection to the Maggia? Stay tuned to find out! Game On!
  5. Last season on “Agent Carter”: Peggy Carter was sent by the SSR to Los Angeles to assist their West Coast branch in solving a bizarre murder. Over the course of the investigation, Peggy uncovered the criminal conspiracy known as the Council of Nine and put a stop to the schemes of the power-mad Whitney Frost. With Frost institutionalized, and the rest of the Council either dead or imprisoned, Peggy and her allies were still left with two clues: a pin from the Council of Nine’s Arena Club that concealed a strange key, and a redacted file found by SSR agent Jack Thompson which appeared to implicate Peggy in a massacre during WWII. As Peggy finally admits her feelings to fellow agent Daniel Sousa, Thompson is shot by an unknown assailant who takes the file and leaves him for dead. Episode 1: There’s a Man of Mystery July 30th, 1947. Los Angeles, California. Waverly Memorial Hospital. Peggy Carter looked through the window into the hospital room where Jack Thompson lay in bed unconscious. He had been through surgery, but the damage had been extensive. Peggy could tell that the doctors were putting a brave face on for her, giving her the same words of comfort to Mr. Jarvis after Ana had been shot. The whole thing seemed like some sick joke. First Ana, now Jack. Maybe it would be Mr. Jarvis next. Or Rose. Or… “How is he?” The familiar voice shook Peggy out of her thoughts. She must have been very distracted to have been unable to hear the approach of Daniel Sousa; the sound of his steps punctuated by the tapping of his crutch. Peggy cleared her throat before she spoke. “The same, unfortunately. It’s not surprising. The techs seem to think he had been shot half an hour before the maid went to his room. If she had been less punctual, Agent Thompson very well could have…” Peggy’s voice trailed off. Daniel put his arm around her shoulders and looked in on the wounded agent. “He’s gonna be alright, Peg. You know Jack. He’ll pull through.” Peggy attempted a wry laugh. “Oh yes. I know him. He’s a stubborn, condescending, insulting…” She caught her breath, then let her head rest on Daniel’s offered shoulder. “And yet he is still an honorable man in his way.” Daniel gave a supporting hug before Peggy cleared her throat again and turned to face him. “Anything new from the SSR? Have they managed to find that file?” “Not at the moment. Whoever the shooter was, they were professional. No shell casings, no prints. The only thing that appears to be missing from the room is your file.” “If it is my file,” Peggy said turning away and massaging her temples. “From the moment Jack told me about it I was sure it was faked by Masters and the Council to blackmail me. But if that were the case, why would someone shoot a man for a fake file?” Daniel walked over to Peggy. “You’ve been hanging around this hospital for two days. You should go back to Stark’s to rest. I hate to say it, but you’re going to need it.” “Why? What are you talking about?” Daniel sighed. “I’ve received instructions from the SSR. You have been ordered to return to New York. They are wanting all hands-on deck over there. There have been some incidents involving some alleged members of the Maggia.” Peggy’s gaze narrowed as she attempted to focus. “Maggia? Those are Manfredi’s people. I would have thought organized crime would be a matter for the FBI, not the SSR.” “Not in this case. Apparently, there have been a number of attacks, some fatal, committed against the Maggia. The FBI have called us in to assist due to their being some…unusual elements to the case.” Peggy gave a frustrated sigh. “Right now, the only unusual elements I want to be investigating are here. A man has been shot over a file that accused me of taking part in a massacre. I need to be here.” “Peg,” said Daniel softly, taking her by the hand. “I understand. And I don’t want to see you go. But the orders were clear. If the situation in New York get’s worse, retaliation from the Maggia could turn the city into a powder keg. I promise you. We will find who did this.” Peggy gave another look through the window before lowering her head and nodding. “If that’s the case, I think you should have this.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the Arena Club pin. She placed it in Daniel’s hand. “If this attack was staged by a member of the Council, they may very well know about the key. Let Samberly give it a once over for any hint of what it belongs to, but keep it in the vault all other times.” Daniel swiftly put the pin inside his breast pocket. “I got it. I’ll make sure Samberly keeps this quiet. We’ll probably have this all sewn by the time you get back.” He gave a small grin. “Then we might be able to pick up where we left off a few days ago.” Peggy returned the smile. “Really, Chief Sousa. Howard Stark must be rubbing off on you.” The two chuckled for a moment before Daniel gave Peggy another embrace. “Take care of yourself, Carter,” he whispered. Peggy felt a tear run down her face. “You too, Daniel.” Brooklyn, New York. Benton’s Pharmacy. Dr. Robert Benton slowly measured out the tablets before sealing them in a paper bag. He turned to face the boy impatiently waiting at the counter. “Now you make sure your mother takes these, alright? I know they don’t taste good, but they will help her. She’ll feel better in no time. Two before each meal. Can you do that for me?” The boy nodded, and Dr. Benton handed over the bag as the boy placed a handful of coins on the counter. The boy hurried toward the door past some customers, taking a moment to wave at Jean, Benton’s wife, as she stood at the register. Jean Benton gave a friendly smile and waved back as the boy disappeared out the door. She was just placing a sundae in front of a man sitting on one of stools that lined the counter when the bell over the door rang out again. Jean adjusted her apron and looked up to see three men enter the pharmacy. One was a gentleman in a suit and fedora who couldn’t have been more than 5 feet tall. Another was a lanky looking man in a cowboy hat with a rope wrapped around his right shoulder. The last was a hulking brute that had to walk sideway to fit through the door. “Welcome to Benton’s Pharmacy, gentlemen,” Jean said, attempting to be unfazed by the somewhat unusual sight. “Are you here to pick up a prescription? Or would you like something to eat?” The short man stepped up to the counter and sat on a stool across from Jean. “Something to eat would be perfect, sweetheart,” he said in oily voice. He turned to his colleagues. “Do you fellas want anything?” The man in the cowboy hat shook his head, but the large man walked up to the counter and sat down, the stool squeaking under his weight. “I’d like some ice cream,” he said dully. The short man turned to Jean. “That’ll be two vanillas. One for me, one for my pally Ox.” Jean slowly started scooping ice cream into two bowls as the man in the cowboy walked over to the stool next to Ox, which was currently occupied by a customer eating his sundae. “Sure is a nice place you got here, lady,” the short man said. “You run this establishment all by yourself?” Jean placed the two bowls in front of them, then pointed to Dr. Benton on the other side the room making notes in a ledger. “No, with my husband. Ever since he got back from overseas.” The short man looked impressed. “Really? He was a soldier?” “Medic actually.” The short man shook his head as Ox took hold of a spoon that was nearly lost in his fist. “Well, I’m glad to see he’s back home. But even with a man back around the house, it’s important to make sure you’re prepared.” Jean tensed up slightly. “Prepared? For what?” The man idly stirred around the ice cream in his bowl. “Well, for anything. I mean, take this place, for instance. Bet you must have a refrigerator or an ice box to keep all this ice cream. If something happened to it, you might have to throw out all your stock. Then my pally Ox wouldn’t get his ice cream. And he wouldn’t like that, would ya, Ox?” Ox put a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth and slowly shook his head. “I like ice cream, Dan.” The man in the cowboy hat leaned in towards the man eating the sundae. “Excuse me, friend,” he said in a southern drawl. “You’re in my seat.” The customer gave an annoyed look over his shoulder. “Your name wasn’t on it. Go sit somewhere else.” Dan continued speaking to Jean. “And what about the medicine your husband hands out? If he gave the wrong amount of medicine or the wrong kind of medicine to the wrong person… Well, that would turn out pretty bad for you too, wouldn’t it?” Jean coughed nervously and looked over at Robert, desperately hoping he would look up from his work. “Just what is it that you want?” Dan’s smile had a touch of steel behind it as he set down his spoon. “All I want to do is help you, Mrs. Benton. My associates and I would like to make sure nothing ever goes wrong around here for you. Our rates are very reasonable. And you would be prepared for any and all incidents.” The man in the cowboy hat leaned in again. “I want that seat, friend.” The man turned around annoyed. “Listen, pal, why don’t you go play with Tonto and Silver and leave me alone?” “I’m sorry, Mr…um Dan. But my husband and I already have insurance. We don’t need more.” The man in the cowboy hat walked back to the door to the pharmacy, unloosed the rope from over his shoulder, and tied noose into it. Dan’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I assure you, Mrs. Benton. Your insurance can’t give you the protection that we can.” Suddenly the man in the cowboy hat hurled the rope with a flick of his wrist. The noose caught the customer around the neck, and started to choke him. The man in the cowboy hat yanked hard and pulled the man off his stool. Ox got up from his seat and grabbed the customer by the collar as the other customers quickly ran out of the pharmacy. “My friend Montana wants that seat,” he growled. “Okay! Okay!” the man pleaded. “He can have it!” “What’s going on here?” said Dr. Benton as hurried from behind the counter over to men. “Robert, be careful!” Jean said in hushed tones. “They’re crooks! They want money!” Dan hopped off the stool and walked casually to Robert as Ox dropped the customer, who bolted for the door. “Oh were not crooks. We’re just wanting to help you make sure this place keeps running smoothly, Mr. Benton.” “Doctor.” Dan’s smile froze. “What?” Robert’s face grew pale as he saw the three men glaring at him for interrupting. “Er…Doctor. I’m a doctor. Doctor Benton.” Dan smirked and turned to his colleagues. “Hear that boys? We got ourselves a college man, here.” Ox and Montana chuckled as Dan turned back to Robert. “Well, maybe you can help me with something, doc. See, it hurts when I do this.” In an instant Dan delivered a punch to Robert’s gut. He doubled over, groaning in pain. “Robert!” Jean cried as she rushed from behind the counter, but Montana was there to grab her arm. In a few swift gestures he had tied his lasso around her wrists, binding them together. He stood behind her, still holding her by the arms. “Take it easy, darlin’. Let your husband make his house call.” Dan delivered another blow to Robert’s gut then a leaping chop across his throat. Robert fell back first against the counter, reeling as Dan took a few steps back. Then he made a running start, then leaped onto a stool to deliver a knee strike to Robert’s jaw. Robert spun out and fell face first on the counter, sending bowls and silverware clattering to the floor. Dan stepped onto the counter, squatting over Robert and swatting the back of his head. “So what do you say, doc? How do I get it to stop hurting when I do that?” Robert could only cough out some blood, some of it landing on Dan’s lapel. He casually removed a handkerchief to wipe it off then stepped down from the counter. “Ox?” The brute pulled Robert off the counter and held him in the air by the throat. “No! Wait! Please!” said Robert gasping for breath. “We’ll give you what you want!” “Robert, no!” Jean begged as she struggled to free herself from Montana’s rope and grip. “We’ll give you the money! Just don’t hurt my wife! Please!” Dan smiled at Jean as she looked away. “See that? Now that’s a real husband. College man, but he still has some brains in his head. Montana, help the lady make their first deposit.” Montana roughly shoved Jean back behind the counter then opened up the register. “First installment is $500, followed by $1000 every month.” Jean struggled to go through the register with her bound hands. “Please. There’s only about $250 in here. Business has been slow, and…” Montana grabbed the money from the register, and slipped it into his pocket. “Don’t worry about it. You can put it on your tab, along with the $1000.” He pulled on the rope and it slid off of Jean’s wrists. She rubbed them to get feeling back in them as Montana walked around the counter back to Dan. Ox still held Robert in the air. “We got it. They understand the terms.” Dan tipped his fedora to Jean. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. Dr. Benton. See you next month. Ox, drop the doctor, and let’s go.” Ox released Robert with a shove that sent him colliding into the counter. He slid to the floor as Jean rushed to tend to him and the three criminals left, Ox grabbing his left over ice cream as he did. “Oh God, Robert. Are you alright?” Robert waved Jean off as she carefully helped him to a stool. “I will be, Jean. Just take it easy. Remember what mother said, ‘Gentle, gentle’.” Jean hurried back to the counter to get some ice for Robert’s black eye. “Oh, Robert, this is no time to be talking about your mother! We need to call the police!” “No! Jean, we can’t. Do you really think men like that can make threats without someone backing them up? If they get arrested, whoever that is will just send more men. To wreck the pharmacy, to hurt you.” Jean looked back at her husband in disbelief. “You can’t seriously mean that we are just going to hand over our money to them! We are having enough trouble making ends meet as it is!” Robert gingerly stood up from the stool and collected Jean’s purse, hat, and coat from the rack. “Jean, I need you to go back home. I’ll close up the place, but I need to look into some things.” “Robert, you’re hurt. There is no way I’m leaving you here by yourself at night!” Robert handed Jean her belongings and walked her out from behind the counter. “I told you, I’m alright. I don’t think those…gentlemen will be coming back. And I need to take a look at our stock. Maybe see where we can raise our prices so we can make their demands.” Jean looked worriedly at Robert as they walked to the door. “Are you sure you’re alright? I couldn’t bear to think of something happening to you.” Robert gave her a hug and looked into Jean’s eyes. “I’m going to do what I need to do to keep you safe. It’s just a few bumps and bruises. It looks worse than it is.” Jean didn’t look convinced, but Robert lifted her head up so she could see his battered but smiling face. “Take my word on it. I’m a doctor, remember?” Jean sighed but yielded to a kiss from Robert. She put on her hat and coat and opened the door, turning to look back one last time. “I’ll be waiting up for you, Dr. Benton. So don’t do anything to strain yourself.” Robert gave a salute, making Jean shake her head and smile, then she was gone. Robert locked the door to the pharmacy, then began to stand up straighter. Almost trance-like he walked behind the counter then into the storeroom. He passed several shelves of medicine, cans, and dry goods before stopping at an old chest. He lifted the lid, moving aside some old books, revealing a large, white gift box wrapped in black, white, and red ribbon. Manhattan, New York. Hell’s Kitchen. The full moon shone down on the busy streets of Manhattan. The air was full of the sounds of honking horns and shouting voices. Out of one of the seedier bars walked Fancy Dan, Montana, and Ox, accompanied by two ladies who looked dressed for dancing. They both clinged to the arms of Montana, giggling as they chatted about what had just occurred. “What a scream!” the blonde prattled on. “That waiter’s face! You snagged that bottle of champagne right out of his hands!” The redhead leaned in closer to Montana’s shoulder. “You sure know how to handle that rope, cowboy.” Montana put his arms around both women as they walked down the sidewalk. “Stick with me, darlins’ and I’ll show you a few more tricks with this rope.” Fancy Dan rolled his eyes as the women laughed at Montana’s ‘wit’. Ox trailed behind, occasionally looking over his shoulder. “Hey, Montana!” called Fancy Dan. “Let’s cut through here. Then we can cross the park straight to the hotel.” Fancy Dan motioned to his proposed short cut: an alley between two apartment buildings. “Oh, I don’t want go in there!” pouted the blonde. “It smells!” “And it’s dark in there, Montana,” said the redhead. “Let’s just get a cab.” Ox looked nervously at the entrance to the alley. “It is pretty dark in there, Dan.” Montana rolled his eyes. “Ah, come off it, Ox! It’s the fastest way to get to the hotel.” Fancy Dan’s eyes grew wide as he spoke in mock concern. “But you never know, Montana. There may be criminals waiting in there.” Fancy Dan and Montana burst out laughing, as the ladies joined in nervously. Then Montana gave them both a shove that sent them sprawling into the alley. The three men followed after them as the women slowly made their way through the darkness, being careful to watch their step. “I told you it smells in here,” the blonde moaned. “I don’t like it!” “Relax, darlin’. You don’t have anything to worry about. Not with ol’ Montana here to protect you.” The women suddenly leapt back and clung to Montana’s arms tightly. “Well, if you little ladies don’t want to wait to get to the hotel then…” He was silenced by slap to his side by Fancy Dan. The three men and two ladies stood staring at what was standing on the far end of the alley. Lit by light shining from an apartment window, stood a figure in black. He wore a mask and cape lined in red, and a cutlass hung by his side. Across his chest was the symbol of a skull and crossbones. The figure slowly walked toward them, and spoke in a commanding voice. “I think it’s time you ladies go home and go to bed. By yourselves, for a change.” The blonde and the redhead turned and ran screaming out of the alley. “Hey! Come back here!” shouted Montana. He turned back to face the man in black with a sneer. “I don’t know who the heck you are, friend, but you better have a darn good reason for ruining my evening.” The man in black walked closer. “Earlier today, you three stole the sum of $256 from a business in Brooklyn. I’m here to see that money is returned.” Fancy Dan laughed in disbelief. “Listen, pally. We don’t have that money anymore. It’s in the hands of people with deeper pockets than you or me, believe me.” The man in the black looked unimpressed at the three men. “You gentlemen all seem rather prosperous. I’m sure that you have enough money between the three of you to make restitution for the damages you’ve caused.” Ox stepped forward threateningly. “You talk too much, little man.” “Take it easy, partners,” said Montana. He smirked at the man in black as he walked up to him. “You either got a whole lot of guts, or not a lot of brains to talk like that, dressed up in some long underwear. What’s with the skull? You trying to be a pirate or somethin’?” The man in black’s face was unchanged. “A pirate? No.” Montana got right in the man in black’s face, as Fancy Dan readied himself and Ox pounded his fist into his hand. “Then what are you?” The look in the man in black’s eyes made Montana’s blood run cold. “For men like you? Poison.” The Black Terror threw a right hand that connected with Montana’s jaw, then a left to his gut. He then delivered a perfectly executed kick that sent him flying backward into Fancy Dan. Ox charged ahead with a roar only to be tripped up by the Black Terror and falling to the pavement. Fancy Dan leaped in with kicks and strikes, but each one was blocked by the man in black, who finally caught him and threw him into a row of garbage cans lined up against the stone wall. “I’m sorry,” the Black Terror said, as Fancy Dan shook his head to try to regain his senses. “But does it hurt when you do that?” Fancy Dan yelled in frustration and leapt back towards the man in black, but he easily sent him careening into the garbage cans on the other side of the alley. “Then I would suggest you don’t do that.” The Black Terror heard the whistle of Montana’s rope over his head. He raised his hand just in time to catch the lasso before it tightened around his neck. With his free hand he pulled the cutlass from it’s sheathe. He thrusted it up between his face and the rope and sliced it in half with a single stroke. Fancy Dan fumbled through the rubbish from the garbage cans until he came across a broken piece of lead piping. He brandished it and swung it at the Black Terror who parried back with the cutlass. But then Ox charged in from behind, sending his elbow right into the Black Terror’s back. The Black Terror fell forward, gritting his teeth from the force of the blow. Ox loomed over him, with Fancy Dan and Montana at his shoulders. “You’re gonna pay for that, skull-man.” He raised up his fist and brought it crashing down toward the Black Terror. OK: Can the Black Terror defeat the criminals? Or will the Enforcers overwhelm our hero? And what will happen to Peggy Carter when she returns to New York? Stay tuned to find out! Game On!
  6. The man in the blue suit ran down the New York City street, panting for breath as he push himself to go faster. The moon was covered by clouds and he desperately tried to avoid the glow from the street lights. He occasionally glanced behind him, and slightest trace of movement drove him onward. His right hand was still wrapped around a revolver, but he knew it wouldn’t do him any good. He heard a creaking noise behind and above him. He looked back and faintly outlined by the street light and crawling along a tenement wall, he saw him. If it was a him. The way it moved, the way it killed, it could have been an it. Or a devil. The man quickly raised his revolver and fired wildly, shooting out the light of the lamp. But in the last explosive burst of light he saw the thing that was hunting him leap from the wall and land on the street. Half of it’s body was crimson, the other half so blue it was nearly black. It’s eyes were two white slits, and it’s face was frozen in a blank expression. And around it’s waist, there was the glint of metal. “Keep away! Stay the hell away from me!” the man yelled. He fired his revolver again twice. The devil dodged the first bullet, but the second struck it in the chest. The devil staggered back by the impact, then looked up and glared with it’s uncaring eyes at it’s prey. In a swift gesture the devil reached behind his back and drew something from a scabbard. “Why don’t you leave me alone?! Why don’t you die?!” The man took aim, then screamed in pain, as the boomerang the devil had thrown collided with his hand and made him drop his gun. The boomerang rebounded back to the devil who effortlessly caught it. The man cradled his injured hand and stared in terror, then took off running down the street again. The devil strode after him, boomerang in hand and ready to throw. A black sedan screeched to a halt into the intersection up ahead. The back door opened and a blond man in a suit and fedora urgently waved to the man. “Come on! Get in the car! Let’s go!” The man in the blue suit sprinted toward the car. It was only a few more feet away. Then he heard a strange whistling sound drawing closer behind. He looked back for moment… just in time for the boomerang to crash into his skull. He stood poleaxed for a few seconds as the boomerang returned to it’s owners grip, then he fell lifeless to the pavement. “NO!” the man in the car screamed. He jumped from sedan and drew a machine gun. He fired a spray of bullets toward the devil, who leapt into the air twenty feet to the wall of a building, then seemed to disappear into the shadows. “Frank!” called the man at the wheel. “We got to get out of here!” Frank ran to the prone body of his fallen friend. Two more men in suits and fedoras leapt out of the sedan and chased after him. “What are you doing? The cops will be here any minute!” Frank knelt down on the ground and bent over the body. Then he straightened up, nearly falling backwards. “He’s breathing! He’s still breathing! Come on! Help me get him to the car!” “What are you, nuts?! You saw that hit! If he’s not dead, he won’t last much longer!” Frank got to his feet and aimed his machine gun at the other men. “And I say you get him in the car! Or there will be two bodies for the cops to find! Get him in the car. Now!” The two men reluctantly picked the man in the blue suit up by his arms and legs and carried him to the car, as Frank kept watch on the rooftop where the devil had disappeared. With the man in the blue suit laid out in the back seat, the other two men got in front and shouted to Frank. “Let’s get out of here already!” Frank backed up a few steps before running to the car and climbing in the back. “Frank, he isn’t gonna make it!” the driver said as Frank slammed the door. “Quit bellyachin’! Get us to Doc Harrow’s! He can fix him up!” The man in the passenger seat looked back in disgust. “That quack? We’d have better luck takin’ him to Doc Frankenstein!” “He don’t have time! Now get us to Harrow’s and…. Oh God! DUCK!” Frank ducked over in his seat and covered his head with his hands just as the boomerang smashed through his car door window. It whistled through the air and crashed through the opposite window and into the night. “Drive! Drive! Go! Go!” Frank’s screams were drowned out by the screech of the tires as the sedan tore off down the streets. On the rooftop of a nearby building, the devil watched as the sedan sped away. He placed his boomerang in the scabbard on his back, then felt the bruise on his chest left by the impact of the gangster’s bullet on his bulletproof costume. The devil was not satisfied with the results of his mission. Those men were scum that polluted this city. None of them deserved to draw breath. The devil knew that there were many such men that needed to be dealt with. But their time was drawing to an end. For now, there was a devil in Hell’s Kitchen. Marvel Studios, in association with ABC and the Broadway Beyonder Presents Agent Carter Season 3 Coming Soon November 2021
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