Repulse | marvel

5. The Beginning of the End

"It is a nice tune." Erskine's lips twitched up into a smile. "Learning the songs, hmm?"

"Just waiting for the right one to come along. A song or a dame, I suppose."

Their coffee arrived and Erskine took a small sip, raising his cup in a toast. "To new friendships?"

Steve tipped his glass against Erskine's and watched as the doctor sipped his coffee, emotions drifting across his stormy eyes as he turned to the street. His head angled to the side as a somber melody rose above the bouncing, jaunty tunes. "You know that song, Steven?"

"I don't think so. I've never heard it played before." Now that he focused on it, the piano seemed to strain in a bitter, sardonic way, clear notes warped by a sharply minor tune.

"It's from the Merry Widow, Herr Hitler's favorite. How I loathe that tune..." Erskine's voice dropped to a low growl, and Steve leaned in closer.

"If you don't mind my asking, sir, why exactly have you come to America?" He lowered his tone to a whisper, hardly audible over the chatter and the thumping of piano keys around the street.

"I have come here, Steven, because I have the key to win the war." the doctor replied, his expression drawn and utterly serious. "I sacrificed everything to escape from Germany, and even in here America nowhere is safe. I do not tell you this to frighten you, but there are many in Germany who want me dead."

Steve's blood ran cold – was this unassuming doctor a fugitive of Nazi law? This encounter was only getting stranger and stranger. "What do you mean, sir? What's the key to winning the war?"

Erskine reached down to his side, lifting a small briefcase from the floor and placing it on the table. The leather was worn and cracked, the corners split from wear. Raising an eyebrow at Steve, Erskine twiddled with a set of dials and cranks on the handle of the case, some sort of complex locking mechanism. The doctor's fingers danced across the dials, and soon he spun his wrist and opened the briefcase to show Steve.

Six slender vials sat in a bed of black velvet, each depressed into a snug niche. The liquid in the vials was a dull, dark blue, rippling slightly from the jostling of the case. Steve reached forward and brushed his hand against one of the vials, feeling the cool glass beneath his touch, but Erskine's cargo didn't seem particularly dangerous.

"What is it? Some sort of explosive?" Steve gazed at the vials with increased scrutiny as Erskine folded the briefcase shut and placed it beside his feet with expert care.

"Not an explosive, Steven. All will be revealed in time. Now, I ask that you come with me one place more – nevermind about the bill, I'll pay for it. Don't protest!" The ghost of a smile flickered across the doctor's lips. His mood had grown far more serious since he had revealed the mysterious vials, and Steve was itching to know what was inside of them. This little adventure beat frequenting every enlistment booth he happened upon, if only slightly.

They hurried out onto the streets, the pounding of the pianos washing over them as Steve and the doctor scanned the streets for a taxicab. Steve could afford taxis only rarely, but Erskine appeared to be more well-off than he looked. After tipping the cabbie a handsome sum, the car sped off through the streets like a demon was snapping at its bumper, tearing between lanes and driving with a ferocity Steve hadn't seen in most soldiers. The screech of tires and fluent swearing of the cabbie drowned out the pianos as they tore away from 28th Street, thrown into the fervor and energy of Koreatown. Steve's nose pressed against the cold glass of the cab as the brilliantly colored buildings flashed by, soon replaced by monoliths of steel. If he craned his neck back far enough he could make out the spire of the Empire State Building – no zeppelins had docked yet, but a flurry of smaller aircraft buzzed around the spire.