"Who exactly is this kid?"

There was this young man, an African American man, boy really, lying face up against the street in a dirty alleyway. Two men dressed in camo pants stood over him, their eyes trying to make sense of what might of happened to this poor schlub. They looked all around, but there were no signs of a struggle, his clothes were perfectly fine (for a Negro's they supposed) and his head was shaved cleaner than a child's ass.

"Alright, some Negro lying in the street. Why should we care?"

"There were reports that he fell from the sky. At least that what the intel said. He could be some kind of Nazi spy. We can't be too careful can we?"

"A Nazi spy? Come on we don't even let our own Negros into our ranks, why would Germany let any in?"

"I don't know, but you can't be too careful when it comes to the Red Skull can you? Just grab him and let's head back to base."

Listen Eli, I've got a mission for you, and you're the only person who can do this. This needs the touch of a Super Soldier. Do you understand?

"Is he coming to? Doesn't look like it."

…it's going to be dangerous…

"Jesus, just wake that damn nigger up already"

…and hard, in more ways than you have ever experienced…

"Can someone get some water? Splash some on his face, it might even wash the stink off a' him." There was chuckling.

…we're sending you back in time.

"Wake Up!"

And just like a soldier returning to battle, Eli's eyes opened with dread.

"Look at that he's awake."

Eli awoke to the looks of an old laboratory. There were transistor radios, and pieces of paper that etched out of machines in ribbons. It was all so low-tech stuff that it made his science fair project look like it was brilliant.


"Hey nigger, we've got some questions for you to answer." That word, used so flippantly to brand him, as if it were just something to say and to regret. He turned his head to the side, he wished he could say it was different in his own time, but really, it wasn't. He knew that better than anyone.

"Hey boy, you still 'sleep?" Some clean-shaven red-head stuck his nose in Eli's face, his breath smelled of cheap cigars. "Where'd you come from?"

He didn't answer.

They laughed. "He must be able to understand English. Poor bastard's gotta be a Nazi. Can we get a translator in here?"

"No, I don't think we have anyone who speaks monkey."

They laughed louder, so loud it seemed to fill Eli's veins. It was almost too hard to wrap his mind around…how could his grandfather fight for dicks like these? Eli's hands were securely fastened behind him in what felt like metal cuffs…something he could break out of easily. But, he couldn't go just yet, not now. He had seen enough Star Trek with Billy and Tommy to know that any small change could affect the future in a way that he couldn't even fathom. If he broke loose, he'd run the risk of revealing certain truths that were not ready to be let out…


"Alright boy, I'mma ask you one more time."

This prick, his teeth the color of candy corn, got real close this time. His eyes began to turn red, as if they were trying to seem tougher than they were. Hell, Eli had faced tougher creeps than this before dinner…at least he used to.


Before he made his mistake…


Before his foolishness cost someone their life. Before his hotheadedness lost a valiant soul, before he abandoned everyone he ever cared for.


Before his own uniform was stained in the blood of his fallen comrade.

Eli looked up, his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. He clenched his bound hands.

Faster than anyone could think he lunged forward, head first into the guys nose, bringing the chair with him.

"Sit him down!" He heard someone scream, but it was too late. He had powered through the two like pieces of ribbon. Guys never had a chance Hell, not with Eli's strength, not with Eli's mind too full to think twice about anything. He came here for a reason, something too important to fuck up.

"Shoot him!"

He lunched himself towards the door, his hands still bound. He heard the sound of bullets whizzing past his ears. For all he knew, they could have shot him in the chest, he still would have kept running.

"Come on Bruster! You can't hit some kid! Sound the alarm, we got an escaped spy!"

Eli ran against the chrome floor, the walls blurring into the background.

I can't fuck this up. I can't fuck this up.

Without even thinking, he broke free from his cuffs and sprinted down the hallway, looking for something, anything, that could point to his escape. He could hear the sound of heavy boots pounding against the floor, looking for him.

"Shit. Alright Eli, think." He closed his eyes. "There's gotta be some kind of exit somewhere." He took a deep breath, he tried to pierce past the alarms, the heavy footsteps, and screaming men, and tried to focus on…


There amongst the sea of noise he heard something…the sound of a heavy door opening and closing, slamming against a railing and…crickets?

"There!" His feet began to move, faster and faster.

"I see him!" Eli turned his head to see the soldiers running after him, but he never slowed his pace. "He's heading for the West door."

He sprinted his feet carrying him across the floor and through whatever maze he was trapped in. It was at this time that he had wished he trained more, it would have come in handy at a time like this…hell, an assault rifle would have come in handy.

"Someone stop him he's almost there! Why aren't you morons shooting him?"

"We are sir, but nothing's slowin' him down!"

The sound was getting louder, the music of crickets, the sound of the wind against grass blades. He was getting closer.

"Stop him!"

…and closer…

Eli, do you think you can handle this mission? There is a high possibility you won't come back from it?

…and closer…

Are you sure you know the risks?


Understood. But remember…

The small glint of moonlight washed over his face, and the night enfolded him, hiding him away from the eyes of his pursuers. He couldn't fuck this up, not with so much on the line.

...failure could mean the end of us all.