AN: For newer readers, the Dark Sun intermission chapters are AU, taking place in an alternate darker timeline. This chapter is based on Steve Englehart's 1973 run on Captain America.
Somewhere In The Everglades, Florida, United States, 1966
Even at the best of times, Florida air is like trying to breathe through a soup made of swampwater and whatever alligators shit out, and wearing a metal mask over my mouth doesn't exactly improve the experience.
And here I thought I wouldn't find a place I like less than Brazil. Even Vietnam is less of a sweatbox hellhole than Florida, even after two years of the U.S trying to bomb the shit out of it. Really not looking forward to going back there either, but the way things are going, me being deployed there is just a matter of time. The Soviets are getting antsy about the U.S having a superhuman working for them, there's been a lot of rumblings among the cloak and dagger creeps that they're trying to get their old superweapon programs back up and running. I'm honestly a bit surprised it's taken them this long, I was expecting to have Omega Red on my ass in the first week, but there's been nothing. Well, unless you count all the regular communists with guns trying to shoot me. That's not great either, for all the good it does them.
Whatever, let them throw the best they can at me. I put a hole through the Radioactive Man's head when China tried to take me out, they won't fare any better.
Besides, for now, I have other business to deal with.
The prisoner is shoved out of the helicopter, landing in an undignified heap with his hands still shackled behind his back. He's still dressed in his night clothes, my men having grabbed him right out of bed in the middle of the night, a black sack stuck over his head, muffling his pained groans and terrified babbling. A tall, muscular figure in black combat armor jumps out of the helicopter after the prisoner, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt and dragging him over towards the edge of the swamp where I'm waiting. The familiar skull insigniga on the armor plate still amuses me with it's irony, his squad had already picked the symbol for themselves by the time I met him. Destiny has a cruel sense of humor. But then again, I should know that by now.
"Sergeant Castle" I nod towards the hard-faced man as he tosses the prisoner at my feet, ignoring his pained yelp. "Glad to see the aquisition didn't cause you much trouble"
Frank Castle just grunts, pulling the prisoner up in a kneeling position "Compared to what we're usually sent out to do, this was a vacation. No one will ever know we were there, sir."
"Good, there'll be a lot of questions once word gets out he's missing, but people will forget eventually, once there are no news what happened to him. Oh how quickly people forget. That's why I had you bring him out here." A flash of uncharacteristic hesistance flashes across Castle's face "Something on your mind, Sergeant?"
"Sir, it's just... I'm a soldier, fighting the enemy, that I know how to do, but this? Going after American citizens? With all due respect, this doesn't sit right with me..."
"I'm glad it doesn't, Sergeant, this isn't really a pleasant job, but in this case, I think you might make an exception. Traitors don't get to enjoy the benefits of citizenship!" I grab ahold of the hood, and pull it off the prisoners head. Richard Nixon blinks up at us, a bruise blooming up across his face as a result of his rather rough trip here. "Mr. Nixon. I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but it would be a fucking lie!"
It's funny, in my other life, a life that almost seems like a dream after everything I've seen and done in the years I've spent here, Nixon was widely remembered as the poster child of political corruption, even though as far as I know, he was reasonably competent, especially compared to some of the human garbage fires that were elected after him. But the man on the ground in front of me?
The Nixon from my own history looks like an absolute boyscout compared to this miserable bastard.
Nixon sputters, trying to put on some bravado "W-what the hell is going on here?! Do you have any idea who I am?!"
"The question is, Mr. Nixon, do you know who I am?" I bow down a little, letting him get a closer look.
Nixon sneers "Hard to mistake that ridiculous flag mask for anyone else, you're Johnson's private mutie lapdog, aren't you? What, he finally start sending you out to just disappear his political enemies in the middle of the night? You're digging a grave for the both of you with this stunt!"
"PRESIDENT Johnson doesn't know I'm here, Nixon. Director Hoover was kind enough to help me with investigating you, and we both agreed it's better if this is something he's better off not knowing about. Keep his hands clean, so to speak."
Nixon struggles against the cuffs again, only to wince in pain when Castle grips his shoulders tightly "Look, I don't know what Hoover's been telling you, but you can't trust that cross-dressing fuck! Whatever it is, he's lying! He's just using you to get rid of me, because he can't manipulate! He's had it in for me ever since my term as Vice President, he knows if I get elected, he's out on his ear!"
"Of course he's using me, what do you think I'm doing with him?! Let's get something straight, Nixon. I know aaaalll about J Edgar Hoover's dirty little secrets, and while I couldn't care less about what he likes to dress in, or who he sleeps with, I know he's a manipulative, blackmailing, racist, sexist asshole. But you know what he's NOT, Nixon?" I lean in real close, staring him in the eyes "He's NOT A FUCKING TRAITOR TO HIS COUNTRY!!" Nixon falls backwards, like I'm about to hit him, but I don't bother. He's not worth wasting energy on considering what's going to happen to him anyway. "We know, Mr. Nixon. We know about your work with The Secret Empire. Or should I call you Number One?"
Castle just looks confused, but Nixon has gone pale, all the blood drained from his face "...I don't know what you're talking about! Just-just let me go!"
"Really, bald-faced denial? That's the best you could come up with? Mr. Nixon, you are so far past the point of plausible denial that you can't even see it anymore. The only reason you aren't already in prison is that both Director Hoover and I agree that the world finding out that a former Vice President and current presidential hopeful runs a crime syndicate just to usurp as much power as possible, well, that's the kind of bad PR we don't need right now."
Nixon finally seems to grasp exactly what's awaiting him, and tries to struggle against Castle's grip "Listen... listen, it doesn't matter if you kill me! The Secret Empire is far more than just me! The rest of the ruling council will just choose another leader! But-but if you keep me alive, I can help you! I can-can become your mole! Help you take the Empire down! I know who all the moles are, every agency we've infiltrated! You'll never find them all without my help!"
Once upon a time, seeing this corrupt fuck grovel for his miserable life would have been something like satisfying. But these days, I've long since had my fill, and unfortunately for Richard Nixon, the U.S government is fresh out of second chances.
"Hate to break it to you, but your second-rate HYDRA knockoff isn't going to last out the week without you at the helm covering for them. Whatever we don't get, the real HYDRA will mop up, and what few drops are left over is up for grabs by AIM or any of the other supercrime groups. This is the end of the line."
"NO!!"
"Sergeant Castle, step back if you please." Castle releases Nixon and takes a step backwards as I raise my hand, pointing a finger at Nixon's forehead. "Goodbye, Mr. Nixon. You were never as subtle as you thought you were"
A single, thin beam of light shoots out of my finger and pierces Nixons forehead. The body remains kneeling for a few seconds, before finally, it slumps backwards in an undignified heap. I stand for a moment, listening to the silence of the night, broken only by the sounds of the swamp around us.
"Now what, sir?" Castle asks.
"Throw the body in the water, leave him for the alligators. We're heading back to base"