DC/Marvel: This Guy is Insane

Ding!

The elevator doors opened, and the bald man scrambled out, practically crawling on his hands and knees.

At the same time, a group of burly agents in tactical vests calmly walked in, instinctively surrounding Alan. As the doors closed, he began to whisper to them.

"Hail Hydra."

"I am Captain Hydra."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has been completely infiltrated."

The agents, however, were consummate professionals. They showed no reaction at all. The lead agent gave his colleagues a subtle glance.

The next second, they all moved at once.

"How dare you attack the Captain of Hydra!" Alan roared. "Feel my wrath, you pathetic minions!"

A brief, violent scuffle erupted in the confines of the elevator.

A few moments later, all the agents were lying on the floor. Alan stood in the middle, completely unharmed. He scanned the pile of bodies, picked out the agent with the most shapely rear end, and gave it a swift kick. "Who do you think you are," he taunted, "looking all shapely like that?"

The agent, who had just endured a brutal beatdown, now had to suffer the added indignity of a targeted kick to the butt. He wanted to cry.

Ding!

The elevator doors opened again.

A dozen laser sights immediately converged on Alan.

"Don't shoot! I surrender!" Alan raised his hands. "Hand-to-hand is fine, but using gadgets is cheating." No matter how skilled he was, he knew he couldn't take a bullet.

He was apprehended and taken to an interrogation room.

The day's events had sent a shockwave not only through S.H.I.E.L.D., but also through the ranks of the deep-cover Hydra agents. A full-scale internal investigation could potentially destroy the network they had worked so hard to build.

In the interrogation room, a professional interrogator sat across from Alan. "What is your purpose for coming to S.H.I.E.L.D.?" he asked sternly.

"I'm here to collect my salary." Alan had, in fact, been hired by S.H.I.E.L.D. and had never received a single paycheck. "An organization this big, withholding my hard-earned money," he said righteously. "Aren't you ashamed?"

The agent shook his head and closed his notebook. "We'll be sending you to a psychiatric hospital shortly. I hope you'll cooperate with the treatment." The hospital, of course, was a S.H.I.E.L.D. owned facility. A mentally unstable individual with such impressive combat skills could be a valuable asset if properly conditioned.

"Let me go!" Alan immediately began to scream, thrashing in his chair. "I refuse treatment! I want to be an idiot! No one is allowed to take away my right to be an idiot!"

"…" This case is severe, the agent thought. He'll need the highest level of treatment. The man is insane to the bone.

Screech.

The door opened, and an elderly woman walked in. With a single glance, she dismissed the interrogator. As the door closed behind him, she casually placed a pen on the table. "Alan," she said softly. "It's been a long time."

At the sound of her voice, Alan's frantic struggles ceased. His eyes widened in surprise. "Carter!"

It was indeed Peggy Carter, one of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Wha… huh…?" Alan stared at her, utterly bewildered. He remembered seeing a young Peggy Carter back at the Arkham fortress. The woman before him now had white hair and wrinkled skin. She had to be at least in her sixties.

"You can speak freely," Carter said, pointing to the pen. "It's a signal jammer. It will block any listening devices."

"Very professional," Alan said with a lecherous grin. "You've aged like a fine wine."

"It's a disguise," she replied. "Steve told me everything about you." When Steve Rogers had traveled back to the 1940s, he had reunited with Peggy and told her all about his time in the future, including his encounters with Alan. He had also told her about Hydra's infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D., a situation that was now under their control. The appearance of the Flerken had prompted them to establish the Iron Curtain and Clockmaker organizations forty years prior.

"What did my dear son say about me?" Alan asked, intrigued. He tried to scoot his chair closer, but it was bolted to the floor. He only managed to loosen the screws.

"Not much," Carter said evasively. "Just that you were a handful."

"That unfilial child! How dare he slander his own father! What a disgrace to the family," Alan lamented with a heavy sigh.

"…" Okay, don't argue with a mental patient, Carter reminded herself. She changed the subject. "Which timeline is this for you?"

"This is my third time," Alan said, blushing and looking down shyly.

"…" What are you blushing for? Carter thought, baffled. She took a deep breath and got straight to the point. "Cut the crap. Why are you here? If I can help, I will."

"I'm a student at the Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters now," Alan explained, suddenly all business. "This morning, a government-backed military unit attacked the school and kidnapped all the students. I came to ask if you were behind it."

Carter frowned, not answering immediately. After a long moment, she finally spoke. "It wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D. The only lead we have points to the official Weapon X program, which is now run by William Stryker. But for an attack on the Xavier's School to succeed, Hydra must have been involved. It's also worth noting that Colonel Stryker may be a pawn in their game as well. He only sees mutants as a threat. From a normal human perspective, he's a hero, dedicated to his country."

Alan remembered Colonel Stryker. The man who had created Wolverine, a mutant-hating extremist who had perfected the process of bonding adamantium to bone. Carter was right. From the perspective of the average person, Stryker's actions were justified. The situation was becoming clearer. Hydra had used S.H.I.E.L.D. to lure the X-Men away, and then Stryker had launched his attack. Hydra was undoubtedly after Stryker's research as well. Who wouldn't want an army of super-powered agents?

"Tell me where Stryker is."

Back at the coffee shop.

The atmosphere was calm, but the room was filled with agents, ready to take out their targets on command. Wade was confident he could escape, but Illyana would have a much harder time. Without her magic, her Soulsword was no match for a hail of bullets.

"I think something happened to Alan," Wade said mournfully. "I finally found a friend who gets me, and now he's gone. I'll make sure to carve 'Here lies the most obnoxious man who ever lived' on his tombstone."

"Stand down!" a waiter commanded.

The agents disguised as customers put away their weapons and went back to drinking their coffee and reading their newspapers. A few of them picked up their briefcases and left.

To Wade and Illyana's astonishment, Alan swaggered out of the S.H.I.E.L.D. building as if he owned the place.

He walked back into the coffee shop, plopped down next to Wade, and took a sip of his coffee.

Blegh…

He still couldn't stand Americano. He spat it back into the cup.

"I asked them," he announced. "I know who did it."

"…"

(End of Chapter)

***

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