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Prologue: We'll Meet Again

Green-Wood Cemetery, NYC 2012

(Third Person)

A nine-year-old boy sat silently on a wooden foldout chair, staring at the six-foot-deep holes in the ground. The funeral had ended 30 minutes ago and his parent's caskets had been lowered in. A few hours later, gravediggers would arrive and finish the job. He didn't remember much of the last few days. People claiming to be family friends from the CIA would come over and look after him. 

They would bring groceries, supplies, movies, and even cook meals. None of them ever stayed a full day. During the funeral, he put his headphones on and glued his eyes to their caskets while the music played. People would take turns paying respects and a few in military uniforms stamped their own medals on the caskets. The boy's parents earned new medals too. He flinched when the soldiers performed a three-volley salute. The sudden gunshots were louder than his music and brought memories of laser fire. 

Those memories only got worse when fighter jets did a military flyover. He started to weep again and took out a handful of tissues from his pocket. The people who came took turns patting his shoulder. Most of them he couldn't recognize but had visited to take care of him. No one tried to talk to him, taking the hint from the headphones. The boy's parents could be seen as "oldie elitists," only listening or caring for music from the 90s and below. 

His playlist reflected that. The rock and jazz songs came from his dad while his mom contributed the pop ones. He lowered the volume when most were gone, wanting to catch what the last few were saying. " Look at him David, we can't just leave the kid here. Where the hell is Adler? " One asked angrily. " Calm down, Mike. He ordered us to leave him here. He'll probably want to talk alone. " David replied. There was a third man but he remained silent. 

" Speaking of America's Monster. " Mike said as a blacked-out SUV pulled up on the nearest road. The driver stepped out and opened the passenger-side door. An old man wearing tan aviator sunglasses and using a cane approached the pair. " Mason, Harper, Salazar. I'll take it from here. " The old man said. " Alright, sir. " Harper agreed reluctantly. Adler turned around and watched the three men walk away. We'll Meet Again by Vera Lynn played on the boy's headphones, prompting tears to swell once more. He turned back to the caskets and dabbed his eyes.

We'll meet again

Don't know where, don't know when

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Keep smiling through

Just like you always do

'Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

The song was fitting yet only brought more pain to the boy. His parents weren't waiting anywhere. They had raised him as an atheist. Religion and god were just tools like the spyware used by the intelligence community. The invasion had only proved their point.

So will you please say "Hello" to the folks that I know

Tell them I won't be long

They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go

I was singing this song

Before the chorus could begin, his headphones were softly taken off and rested around his neck. " Hello (YN). " Adler greeted with a weak smile and sat beside him. (YN) took out his phone and paused his playlist. " You're late. The funeral ended 30 minutes ago. " He said quietly and put his phone back. Adler turned to the caskets, taking off his sunglasses and placing them in the breast pocket of his suit. " Their bodies aren't going anywhere. People like us, (YN). We know that better than anyone. " Adler said. 

" Yeah... I guess you're right. " (YN) agreed glumly. Adler turned to the boy. " Do you remember me? " He asked. " We met once, a year or two ago... You and some other friends were visiting. " (YN) said. It was quite easy to remember the scars on his face. " Good memory, kid. " Adler complimented. For the first time in days, (YN) smiled. Adler's reserved expression turned more serious. " Listen, (YN). When you were born, your parents made me promise that I and the agency would take care of you if something happened. " He explained. " They wanted this path to remain open no matter what. You could come with us now, or we could give you a normal life. Either way, you'll always have the choice to return or leave us. " 

(YN) looked at the grass, contemplating his choices. He got up and walked to the caskets and placed one hand on each. " Take me with you. I'm weak... I want to be like them, but... I have to be better! " The boy shouted through gritted teeth and sobs. " You could get hurt, or maybe die. " Adler said, testing the waters. " I feel dead. " (YN) stated. The answer caught the veteran agent by surprise. It brought him back to the many conflicts he'd fought in. 

He always did his best to ignore the children he saw and his thoughts on what they'd do in the future. Would they flee or end up as child soldiers? Distractions were dangerous. " No use dwelling on collateral damage. " Adler thought. Standing in front of him for once was collateral he could afford. Collateral to be molded into a lethal asset. The thought brought a tiny smile to his face.

" Let's get going, (YN). We have a job to do. "

Produced by the Russo Brothers

The visionary directors of Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame

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