Chapter 4: Cut Off One Head, Two More Shall Take Its Place
Before Deadpool could take more than two steps, the screech of brakes pierced the air like an ice pick to the eardrum.
A yellow taxi with several bullet holes decorating its windshield completely ignored traffic laws as it came barreling past him, with someone—uh—in hot pursuit.
Honestly, Deadpool rarely used the phrase "thicc in all the right places" to describe another dude, and he really didn't want to, but this man chasing the car with relentless determination was legitimately thicc in all the right places.
Deadpool suddenly realized which world he'd landed in.
Captain America: The First Avenger.
...
Inside the yellow antique car, Raymond's expression was extremely grim.
He was a HYDRA agent embedded deep within American society, using the alias Craig. His cover identity was a mid-level official at the State Department.
A few days ago, he'd received direct orders from the Red Skull himself: sabotage the Strategic Scientific Reserve's super soldier program and retrieve a sample of the super soldier serum.
Being a loyal HYDRA operative with exceptional skills, he'd successfully executed the operation in just a few days, obtaining clearance to attend the super soldier creation experiment as a State Department representative.
Although he'd failed to sabotage the program—America had still produced its super soldier—he'd obtained the serum sample and killed Dr. Erskine, the scientist who'd developed it. The mission was mostly accomplished.
Now, as long as he could successfully escape America and return to HYDRA, he'd definitely earn the Red Skull's favor. Promotions and raises would be inevitable.
But...
Raymond glanced at the rearview mirror.
In it, that blonde guy who'd transformed from a beanpole into a muscle-bound beast after the super soldier injection was stuck to his bumper like glue. His size-fourteen feet were practically blurring as they pounded the pavement. At the car's current speed, Raymond didn't feel even a shred of safety.
Behind the car, the future Captain America—Steve Rogers—saw his opportunity. He jumped onto a nearby car roof, then after a few acrobatic rolls, successfully transferred to Raymond's vehicle.
Seeing the figure disappear from his rearview mirror and feeling the car shake as something heavy landed on the roof with a BANG, Raymond's face changed. He knew things had gone very, very wrong.
Still, he was a carefully selected and trained HYDRA agent. He made a split-second decision, cranking the wheel hard left and flooring the gas.
The engine roared violently. The tires screeched against the pavement, leaving four long black skid marks. The smell of melting rubber filled the air as the vehicle careened into a side alley.
Steve felt a massive force hit him. The powerful inertia pulled him involuntarily to the left, nearly throwing him off the car. He desperately grabbed the door frame and flattened himself as much as possible to counteract the momentum.
Seeing this tactic wasn't working, Raymond controlled the wheel one-handed, drew his pistol, and BANG BANG BANG—fired several shots through the roof. Steve dodged them all through sheer dumb luck.
Raymond started reloading for another volley, but a large truck pulling out from the right intersection forced him to grab the wheel with both hands again. Too late.
The truck smashed into the taxi's rear end. At such high speed, Raymond couldn't maintain his grip on the wheel. The taxi rolled onto its side, tumbling several times under the momentum. Glass shards scattered everywhere.
Battered and bleeding, Raymond struggled to open the door. He fired three shots at Steve—who'd already let go and dropped to the ground before the rollover—each one missing by inches. Then he staggered toward the docks, grabbing a small boy as a hostage along the way.
Steve couldn't risk it. He didn't dare pursue too aggressively.
Rounding a corner, Raymond leaned against the wall, clamping his hand over the boy's mouth, bent over and gasping for air.
"Hey buddy, quick question—are you a priest?"
A voice suddenly spoke beside him. Startled, Raymond whipped around and fired.
"Whoa, easy there. I just wanted to ask first—if you're NOT a priest, and you don't have any, uh, special intentions toward this little guy, how about you take me as your hostage instead?"
Only then did Raymond get a clear look at his companion: a burly man in a red-and-black skintight suit with a mask, two katanas strapped to his back, and two guns holstered at his waist. The man had both hands raised high, performing a perfect French military salute.
Today's French impression: check (1/1).
Raymond pressed his gun to the boy's head: "Who are you?"
"Hey, I said easy."
Raymond warned: "Throw me your guns, or I'll kill him!"
He didn't have many bullets left.
"Dude, I said EASY."
Deadpool looked around, then suddenly raised both fists and lowered his voice: "Hail HYDRA!"
Hearing this, Raymond's face lit up with joy: "Did the Red Skull send you to extract me?"
"Yes."
Deadpool nodded while naturally taking the small boy from Raymond's grasp. He gently pinched the back of the kid's neck. The boy's eyes rolled back and he passed out.
"Change of plans. For security reasons, the Red Skull wants you to give me the super soldier serum, then escape by boat alone as the decoy to draw American attention. I'll be the shadow, bringing the serum back to our glorious leader."
"But..."
Raymond hesitated.
"Everything is for HYDRA, comrade! Remember that!"
After propping the unconscious boy against the wall, Deadpool struck the HYDRA salute again with absolute conviction: "HAIL HYDRA!!!"
"Yes! Hail HYDRA!"
Hearing this, Raymond's face flushed red as he returned a textbook-perfect HYDRA salute.
Reaching into his jacket, he solemnly retrieved a test tube containing blue liquid and handed it to Deadpool. Halfway through the motion, he seemed to remember something. His hand stopped mid-transfer as he asked suspiciously: "Sir, what's my name?"
If the organization sent him, they should know his real name.
Deadpool: ...
You're a slightly-above-average henchman with a few lines. Who the hell remembers your name?
"Give me that! You talk too much!"
With lightning speed, Deadpool grabbed the serum and yanked it back. At the same time, he punched out all of Raymond's teeth with one fist, then kicked him around the corner where he collided with Steve, who'd been sneaking up.
Steve reflexively caught the flying person. Seeing it was Raymond, he immediately applied a wrestling hold—dude on dude, maximum pressure.
Raymond couldn't move, locked in place by massive biceps. His head was nearly crushed between enormous pecs. Since Deadpool had knocked out his teeth, he couldn't even bite down on the poison capsule hidden in his mouth. He could only twist and struggle uselessly.
Steve held Raymond down with one arm while the other hand patted him down. His expression changed.
Found it!
Wait, no.
Didn't find it!
The super soldier serum was a thin glass tube that should be easy to find with a quick pat-down. Not finding it meant it was hidden somewhere else—or transferred.
He flipped Raymond over and punched him in the face: "Where's the serum? Where did you hide it? Hand it over!"
"Ghh~ ghh~ ptoo!"
Raymond's mouth was full of blood, his face swelling grotesquely. He spat a mouthful of bloody saliva at Steve and revealed a twisted grin: "You'll never find it! NEVER!"
Now his only hope was that the pervert in the skintight suit really was HYDRA and would actually bring the serum back to the organization.
That way, he'd have made one more contribution to HYDRA.
Steve punched him in the face again, even harder.
"HAHAHAHA! Cut off one head, two more shall take its place! HAIL HYDRA!"
Raymond let out a nearly manic laugh before Steve knocked him unconscious with one more punch.