The battlefield filled with the smell of gunpowder is no longer visible, but the smoke-free yet still bloody and brutal fight continues.
Above the black ocean current, two cruise ships are slowly sailing side by side.
The night is silent, and only the sound of waves gently hitting the hull can be heard, the rhythmic swishing sounds enough to make anyone who has never been on a ship suffer from insomnia.
But an entire ship full of people all suffering from insomnia? Isn't that a bit too coincidental?
That's what Steve thought.
After leaving Hawaii, he and Peggy didn't head to Antarctica immediately. In this era, going to Antarctica requires a lot of preparation, and the only suitable landing point is from Chile in South America.
Peggy didn't mind. After all, now one is retired and the other has resigned, they're completely idle. This is a rare vacation for both of them.
During World War II, Peggy had done a lot of underground work in France, responsible for helping the Allies connect with the guerrilla fighters and organize worker uprisings. She still had quite a few acquaintances there.
And since his girlfriend wanted to go to France, Steve, although only carrying tragic memories there, like being stuffed with rags by people or such,
didn't refuse. It is the city of romance, after all. He now has some pocket money, part of it his discharge money, another part of it pocket money given by the Godfather.
Actually, though Steve mentally regarded Mr. Wilson as his father before, he never said it out loud. After leaving the army and returning to everyday life, he seemed to have an epiphany.
He is a Super Soldier, aging at an extremely slow rate, but Mr. Wilson, though he does not look old, is already at least in his fifties or sixties.
If he doesn't cherish their time together now, won't he be left with regrets in the future?
Su Ming didn't correct him, as it wasn't time for Deathstroke's identity to be revealed yet. So Steve left Hawaii not only with two fur-lined jackets but also quite a few US Dollars.
This made him feel like Mr. Wilson seemed very happy.
Next, the couple visited the United Kingdom and met some friends before heading to France, spending several days enjoying Paris.
Steve originally wanted to visit Berlin. He had been there during the war but never could walk the streets openly in the daytime for sightseeing.
But Peggy stopped him. Maybe Steve didn't know, but she was very clear that Berlin's situation is too complicated now, and their identities are not suitable for being there.
Berlin was divided into east and west sections, with the 'Galen Ginseng' supported by the SSR, 'Stasi' supported by Leviathan, and Hydra lurking in the shadows...
It's likely that if they had shown up in Berlin, they'd be greeted with rocket launchers, and their vacation would be ruined.
If asked what they learned during World War II, it's that Hydra really is insatiable. Cut off one head, and two will grow back. It's not just an empty saying.
Now they're no longer soldiers, so why get involved in such matters? Let's move on.
So they took a ship from Spain, preparing to head to Chile. It's not as if there were no planes available—they had military acquaintances.
But the two were just out to unwind on a vacation, floating leisurely on the sea, unlike the past when they constantly had to guard against torpedoes from submarines.
At this moment, the two of them were on the deck in the evening breeze, sipping cocktails while watching another cruise ship traveling alongside them under the moonlight not far away.
The night wind lifted Peggy's golden curls, and she happily leaned on Steve's shoulder, reveling in their blissful moment together:
"Do you think we'll see penguins in Antarctica? Do they really waddle when they walk?"
"Um..."
Steve seemed somewhat distracted, replying absentmindedly.
Peggy was a Special Agent, and reading people was a fundamental skill. She could analyze a lot from Steve's tone or lack thereof.
"What are you thinking?"
Her gaze sharpened as she straightened up, wine glass in hand, bringing her face closer to Steve.
Snapping back to reality, Steve smiled at Peggy a bit sheepishly and hugged her tightly. Today she wore a floral dress; she looked stunning.
"Nothing, I'm just watching that ship not far away. It seems strange."
Peggy glanced at the cruise ship about 200 meters away. It was similar in size and speed to their ship, but it was dark, making it seem like the passengers were all asleep.
"Mm-hmm, you think it's a Ghost Ship, don't you?" Peggy turned her head, speaking to Steve with a hint of helplessness.
Steve shook his head seriously, emptying his glass into his mouth and reaching under his chair, only to find his shield missing.
After retiring, both his uniform and shield, as state property, were returned. The military had chosen a new Captain America, who was now busy selling war bonds and preparing for action in Vietnam.
The reason he reached for the shield was just out of habit. Without that red, white, and blue circular metal, he indeed felt something was missing.
"I'm not joking, I think they're Hydra."
Peggy noticed his actions and couldn't help but sigh, patting Steve's arm: "Let's go back to our cabin. I know you're still adjusting after retiring, but showing signs of searching for a weapon and paranoia suggests you might be too tired lately."
With that, she stood up, intending to pull Steve back to their room.
However, Steve grabbed her hand: "Darling, the last time I felt tired was the night before receiving the serum. This ship is too close to us, something is definitely wrong. It could be trying to create a ghost image on the shore radar, just like the tricks NAZI submarines are best at to evade sonar."
Peggy sat down again, saying irritably: "Yes, traveling at night without a light is indeed suspicious, because even the lookout is dark, plus there are vaguely shadows running around in the dark and the ship is clearly heavily loaded, I suspect them too. But what can we do? We are just two American civilians now, without any backup."
"I'll swim over and take a look, you be my backup." Steve stood up, looked around, and quickly took the lid off a trash can in the hallway, weighed it a few times in his hand, and used it as a shield.
Peggy sighed helplessly, pulled a pistol from a holster under her skirt, checked the bullets, and released the safety: "We clearly agreed this would just be a vacation."
"Just consider it a workout. The seafood risotto a few days ago was indeed a bit much." Steve kissed Peggy on the cheek and said with a smile: "Don't doubt it. It's not PTSD, my intuition tells me there's something fishy about that ship."
"The way you're talking makes you sound like a newly emerged superhero, not a battle-hardened veteran, you should be more certain." Peggy laughed and nudged him. She had a lot of confidence in Steve: "But it's best if I don't have to shoot. That could cause an international incident. It would be better to gather evidence."
"You're really treating me as a rookie."
Steve gave her a helpless look, saluted playfully, then turned and jumped into the sea.
The distance of a few hundred meters combined with the waves may be a suicide mission for an ordinary person, but for a Super Soldier, it's not even considered a warm-up.
Steve didn't even remember the number of times he had swum across the English Channel in past years. The pitch-black sea at night looked just like it does now.
Although after World War II, Steve continued to help the SSR fight against Hydra, more often, it was various kinds of espionage confrontations, which was very uncomfortable for someone as upright as Steve.
Perhaps in battle, Captain America could face a hundred enemies alone, but when it comes to mind games, not even a hundred of him could match Nick Fury.
But Fury's current situation was rather average. After the new SSR leadership took office, although he, as a Black man, wasn't sent back to clean toilets again, he was demoted due to the espionage incident he was involved in, becoming a low-level field agent once more.
It was as if the entire WWII he fought was for nothing.
However, Fury didn't seem to care about anything. In fact, he seemed happier going on field assignments. Although most of the time there's no expression on his dead face, Steve could feel he seemed more relaxed.
While thinking about these things, he quickly and silently stroked forward, swimming like a fish until he reached the anchor of the other ship. Using the slippery hull for leverage, he forcefully pushed up, grabbing hold of the anchor floating mid-air to catch his breath.
Namor taught him the swift swimming techniques, speaking of which, Namor left without saying goodbye back then, who knows how he's doing now...
Steve flipped onto the deck, crouching down on its surface. The wooden deck felt dry and sturdy to the touch.
He looked around.
Though they said it was a cruise, the front deck was indeed clearly visible under the moonlight and had no recreational facilities. This further solidified his suspicion.
He maintained a low profile, maneuvering quickly with the trash can lid on his back, maneuvering his footsteps rapidly during the gaps in the patrolling black shadows, and sneaked into the interior of the cabin.
The interior lighting was dim, almost to the maximum extent of a blackout, with quite a few guards patrolling layer by layer, walking back and forth.
'Thud-thud-thud.' The sound of boots hitting the floor was rhythmic, and sailors don't wear boots.
Steve hid in a storage room, peeking through the crack in the door, watching the figure walk past with its back to him.
These patrolling sailors were armed, and upon getting closer, he could see that they were carrying submachine guns produced by Wilson Enterprises. But these guards were communicating in German and at a glance were clearly elite troops.
Almost like they should be shouting "Hail Hydra."
Peggy asked him to find evidence, which meant he couldn't simply blow the ship into the sea to finish it. Although he heard that many NAZIs had moved to South America post-war, the purpose of this ship heading there was still a mystery.
He watched the figure disappear into the darkness, opened the storage room door quietly, and carefully began to stealthily make his way towards the lower cabins.
Since the cruise ship wasn't carrying passengers, it was bound to be carrying something. By finding out what they were transporting, it might be possible to deduce what Hydra was planning.
And to transport goods on a ship, you'd naturally start loading from the bottom up, or else the ship would be unstable during navigation. That's where the so-called ballast comes in.
The ship was eerily clean, with not even a single rat. In the darkness, Steve only felt a sense of gloom and coldness.
The lower level no longer had patrol teams but instead had sentinels standing guard, with sentinels posted at every door, the scent of German cigarettes evoking Steve's memories.
He took a silent, deep breath, tore off some fabric from his pocket pants and covered his face, then suddenly rushed from the darkness towards the post by the door.
He gave them no chance to shoot, throwing the 'shield' to knock one down, cleanly breaking another guard's neck, and then delivered the coup de grâce to the one on the ground.
Picking up the shield and gun, he rolled and charged into the room through the door.
Had he actually not been discovered?
This made him uneasy. In past covert operations, he was always found out, yet this time with such commotion, he hadn't been noticed?
Nevertheless, not being noticed was also a good thing.
He gently closed the door, stooping as he snuck to the pile of cargo covered by canvas next to him, drew the bayonet he had taken from the corpses earlier, and slashed open the packaging to find out what these people were transporting.
He had considered a lot of possibilities, like blue energy blocks, materials for nuclear bombs, or some sort of new weaponry robots.
But he never expected that the sacks beneath the canvas were full of bone ash....