June 14, 1943 - Military Training Facility
It was Monday morning, and Tommy found himself retracing the same path he'd walked just two days earlier.
The sun shone brightly against his military uniform, casting shadows across the training grounds. The shouts from the drills, the familiar clacking of boots, and the rhythmic sounds from the morning routine on the training ground rang in his ears. Everything seemed blurry until he came to a stop in front of the mess hall.
"Should I grab cookies this time too?" he muttered, flicking his cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath his boot before pushing open the mess hall door.
Inside, the mess hall was quiet—almost empty. Most were out on their morning drills. The long wooden tables were bare, but Tommy didn't care. His eyes went straight to the serving counter. Grabbing a tray, he scanned the room, searching for someone.
She wasn't there.
His brow furrowed slightly, 'She's not here yet?'
"Lieutenant Colonel?" a voice called from behind the counter.
Tommy turned and saw an older woman wiping down trays. She placed them in a neat stack before walking over. "What brings you here this time? Most of the boys are out for drills."
"Well, um..." Tommy hesitated, realizing he didn't remember her name.
"Martha, Colonel Shelby," she said with a warm smile, noticing his moment of confusion.
Tommy gave a small nod, "Right, Martha. We met yesterday, I remember you."
"That's right, Colonel. Surprised you even remembered me. But I reckon you're not here lookin' for me, now are you?"
Tommy saw the older lady raising her eyebrows while keeping her smile as he nodded. He scanned the empty counter, noticing that it was just her this morning, and asked, "I was actually looking for... cookies. I wonder if you've got any this early?"
"Grace won't be coming today."
Martha replied, completely seeing through him. Tommy turned to her, slightly surprised. Her weathered face and kind smile made her wrinkles more visible, but there was something warm about her that brought a smile to his face as he joked, "Well, then. Seems I'm lucky to have you today, Martha."
"Oh, come on, Colonel. You're too kind. I'm far too old for such flattery." She laughed heartily. Even the toughest, like Polly, wouldn't mind a compliment now and then. And Tommy could tell Martha enjoyed it too. Martha continued, "Grace isn't exactly mess personnel like me, you know. But you'd find her around every Saturday."
Tommy raised his eyebrows at that. Grace seemed special, to be able to come and go in the military facility to help out in the kitchen. His eyes drifted over the empty food trays, then back to Martha. "Well, then, Martha, can I still get those cookies?"
"Of course, Colonel. You can get your cookies every day," she teased, laughing as she went to grab a few and placed them on his tray. "Oh, would you like milk with that too?"
"I'd love to, but I'm in the mood for coffee today."
Martha nodded and filled a cup of black coffee, setting it beside the cookies on his tray. "Here you go, Colonel. Enjoy."
"Thank you, Martha," Tommy said, carrying the tray to one of the long wooden tables.
As he sat down, he glanced back at the serving counter and caught Martha watching him with a knowing smile, as if she'd just uncovered some interesting gossip. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "Well, let's enjoy my breakfast, eh."
"Colonel Shelby," a sharp voice interrupted him as he took a bite of his cookie.
The mess hall door burst open, not so gently, catching Tommy's attention. He turned to see Agent Carter striding towards him, her eyebrows raised as she gave him a once-over. "Seems like you've finally figured out how to wear your uniform properly this time."
She glanced down at his tray and raised an eyebrow. "Now, cookies? You're a cookie eater?"
There was amusement mixed with disbelief in her voice, but Tommy wasn't bothered as he continued to enjoy his cookies. Looking up at her, he asked, "Agent Carter, care for a cookie?"
Carter's eyes narrowed. "I don't know if I should be impressed by your lack of concern or irritated, but we don't have the luxury to sit around and dawdle like this, Colonel."
Tommy shook his head slightly. She was far too serious. It reminded him of someone. Blinking, he turned back to her, thinking, 'Right, I do know someone like her.'
"You know, Agent Carter," Tommy said, taking another bite of his cookie, "I think you might just meet your soulmate today."
He stayed seated, making no effort to stand. He could see that seemed to annoy her. She let out a sigh before sitting across from him, reaching over to take a cookie herself. Tommy knew she wanted him to quickly finish his 'breakfast.'
"So, what do you think?" Tommy asked, barely suppressing a grin. "Is it good?"
"It's bland, Colonel," Carter replied, her jab making him almost laugh out loud. He chuckled, shaking his head at her response.
"Say, Agent Carter," Tommy pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up casually. He leaned back in his chair, savoring the familiar bite of the tobacco smoke as it filled his lungs. Then he reached for his coffee and took a sip.
"Coffee and cigarettes, you certainly know how to quicken your dea—"
"Do you, uh," he interrupted her, adding, "want to fuck me?"
"...Pardon?"
For the first time, Tommy saw her flustered. She must not have expected that, as he took a long drag from his cigarette and then exhaled slowly. He offered the pack to her, "Want to smoke?"
"No, thank you," she replied, now visibly quieter.
Carter nibbled on her cookie in silence. The mess hall felt strangely still as neither of them spoke. Tommy watched her, noting how, for a brief moment, their eyes met—then she quickly turned her gaze back to the cookie in her hand.
Just Saturday, she had looked right into his eyes without fear, something not many people did. They tended to avoid his unfocused stare. 'She can be quite fun sometimes, eh?'
Tommy finished the last bite of his cookie, washing it down with a sip of coffee. Just as he set the cup down, Carter stood up and swiftly took his tray.
"I'll take care of this. Please, get in the Jeep. Sergeant Duffy should be waiting for us," she said, walking away without waiting for a reply.
He watched her head toward the back to return the tray, then took a final drag from his cigarette before getting up. As he walked out of the mess hall, he glanced one last time at the empty serving counter, then pushed open the door. Outside, a lean man in a bowler hat stood next to the Jeep, shifting impatiently.
"Colonel Shelby," the man snapped to attention the moment he spotted Tommy.
Tommy gave him a nod. This was Sergeant Duffy, the man who had taken Arthur's place. The sergeant seemed a bit on edge around him, no doubt because of what had happened. Tommy could sense it.
"Sergeant Duffy." He pulled a cigarette from his pack and tucked it into Duffy's pocket, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. "Chesterfield. My treat."
"Thank you, sir!" Duffy replied.
The sergeant was confused, but Tommy didn't bother to say anything else before climbing into the Jeep. Just as he settled in, the mess hall door burst open, and Carter joined them. She gave Tommy a look before getting in. Without a word, Duffy started the Jeep and began driving them toward the training ground on the far side of the facility.
As they passed rows of soldiers in drills, Tommy took a slow drag from his cigarette and quietly wondered, 'Recruits for the Super Soldier Program, eh? Johnny should be one of them. Well, it should be fun.'
(POV changed to John's)
The training grounds were enormous. They stretched as far as the eye could see without a single tree in sight for shade. And under the sun, John stood at attention with the other new recruits, sweat pouring down his face just like everyone else's.
It was exhausting, far more than he'd expected. They'd finished their marching drills ages ago, yet still, they were told to stand there. John couldn't help but wonder if Sergeant Duffy had gone off for breakfast and forgotten about them.
The sounds of other soldiers marching around the grounds only made him feel more restless as he cursed under his breath, "How much longer we gotta stand here like fucking statues?"
A few feet away, a bulky recruit leaned over, smirking. "Look at that—Johnny boy's already whining like a baby. Didn't think you'd make it past breakfast, John."
The other recruits snickered, and John clenched his jaw, muttering, "Shut the fuck up, Hodge."
Gilmore Hodge. Of course, it had to be him. One of Sergeant Duffy's favorites, mainly because he was the most physically fit and could breeze through the drills. But the guy was a complete dick.
While John wasn't Hodge's usual target, he still got the occasional snide remark—especially since the main target was always Steve. Speaking of which, John was almost speechless. His eyes were down at Steve's feet that were practically wobbling right now.
"Hey, you alright, Steve?"
But Steve still had that tough look he found quite exhausting, with sweat rolling down his forehead as the scrawny guy replied, "I-I can do this all day, John."
"All day? You must be living in a fairy tale, mate. You're about to keel over any second, Steve," John shook his head, watching Steve stand there with pure determination despite his legs trembling. "This motherfucker is a fucking psycho."
"I'm fine, John," Steve insisted.
"Well, you better be, 'cause if you drop, I'm not carrying your scrawny ass back to camp," John muttered under his breath, wondering why they couldn't have any normal recruits that weren't Gilmore's cronies.
Just as John was about to complain again, the rattling sound of an approaching Jeep caught his attention. He risked a glance, and sure enough, Sergeant Duffy was driving up. Relief washed over him until he noticed someone else in the vehicle. His eyebrows shot up. "Tommy?"
He only caught a glimpse of Tommy before snapping his gaze forward again, not wanting to invite any trouble. Soon enough, they all heard approaching footsteps, and a voice cut through the heat, "Recruit, attention!"
All the recruits, including himself, turned to see a fucking woman walking right before them. Unusual, to say the least. Sergeant Duffy followed close behind her, holding some documents in his hands. John figured it must be their waivers or whatever it was they needed for this special program he barely remembered the name of.
"Gentlemen, I'm Agent Carter," the woman introduced herself. "I supervise all operations in this division."
Before she could continue, Gilmore's obnoxious voice interrupted. "What's with the accent? Queen Victoria? I thought we were signing up for the US Army."
A few snickers followed, but John felt his stomach drop.
"That fucking big mouth is gonna get us all in trouble," he muttered under his breath. He knew if Gilmore got punished, the rest of them might not escape unscathed either.
Just then, he saw Tommy walking somewhere as another rattling sound from a Jeep distracted John. That Jeep pulled up as he saw Colonel Chester stepping down, followed by Dr. Erskine. He saw Tommy greet the new arrivals.
John could hear Chester say to Tommy, "Well, looks like we're about to see Agent Carter in action."
'What does that mean?'
He barely had time to wonder before he heard Carter's voice, "What's your name?"
"Gilmore Hodge, your majesty."
"Step forward."
John frowned as he watched Gilmore swagger forward, looking every bit as cocky as he sounded. Even from a distance, it irritated John just to see the guy standing there. He mumbled under his breath, "I wish that bastard would get smacked."
"Put your right foot forward," Carter instructed.
Gilmore glanced around, still confused but playing along. "Why? Are we going to wrestle? 'Cause I got some moves I know you'd like."
"Eyes forward, soldier!"
Just when he was so invested in the spectacle, Duffy's shout snapped him back to attention.
"Yes, sir!" John responded while grabbing the document from Duffy.
He barely had time to process what was happening before a sharp smack rang through the air, followed by the loud thud of Gilmore hitting the ground hard. His eyes widened in surprise as he muttered, "Dammit, I fucking missed the show."
Looking at Gilmore sprawled on the ground, John couldn't help but grin.
"Agent Carter," Chester called.
Carter responded, "Colonel Phillips."
As the scene unfolded, John watched as the three—Chester, Tommy, and Dr. Erskine—approached. John's eyes met with Tommy, who was quietly looking at him as if he were a fucking animal in a zoo. It irritated him.
John narrowed his eyes and mouthed, [Fuck you, Tommy.]
'That smug bastard.' He thought he saw Tommy's lips curl slightly for a moment, seemingly amused by that. John furrowed his eyebrows as he turned to look at the colonel.
Chester turned to Gilmore, who was still getting up from the ground, dusting off his uniform, and spoke, "I see you're training our candidates, eh? Get your ass up and back in line until someone tells you what to do."
"...Yes, sir!"
John sneered at Gilmore's response. He knew that motherfucker was pissed off. But there was nothing that guy could do. He knew the unspoken rule: when someone higher up knocked you down, you got back up and said thank you.
"General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons, but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men." John saw Chester pacing around before stopping in front of him; the colonel's words got stuck at the sight of Steve as John heard Chester mumbling, "And because they are going to get better. Much better."
"The Strategic Scientific Reserve, as an allied effort, is made up of the best minds of this free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history," Chester turned to face the rest of the recruits. "but every army starts with one man. And by the end of this week, we will choose that man."
The colonel paused, shaking his head slightly before continuing, "He will be the first of a new breed of super soldiers!"
"And they will personally escort Hitler to the gates of hell."
John quietly peeked at the others, and their reaction was pretty much similar to his. Baffled. He looked at Chester's face; the colonel seemed to be a bit grumpy.
His eyes wandered to Tommy, who stood off to the side, cool as ever, casually enjoying his cigarette as John mouthed, [Just what the fuck did I get myself into?]
That seemed to bring a smile on Tommy's face which alarmed him as John silently cursed, "Fuck..."