The plan was simple, yet potentially problematic. Everything should work like a cinch, Steve said as they made their final preparations for the invasion. There would be no way for the Red Skull to escape this time. He had something special in mind for cornering Schmitt like the rat he was. Howard had contacted his company in the states to be ready just in case the worst had come to pass. Tensions were high, but everyone kept their wits about them. The whole of the Howling Commandoes were handling the stress of what could be their final mission as best as they could have. By reinventing themselves to honor not only their fallen friend, but to live up to the expectations of the Captain and what he stood for.

Dugan was psyching himself up by practicing his aim at their makeshift underground range in an empty storage room. Bucky's loss gave him something to aspire to and think about. This war and his experiences with the Captain had matured him, and the colt had softened his heart in a way he never felt before. Every few minutes, he would practice his out-boxing style on a nearby pole until his knuckles bled. He didn't care, it was rather cathartic. It was his own way of dealing with anxiety and it served him well. Jacques had been inspired by the colt's ingenuity by mixing magic with his own explosives and incendiary devices. It encouraged him to spend a time with Howard's technicians, asking as many questions as he could. He even began to pick up more and more English the more he listened. The colt's patience and perseverance had inspired both him and Gabe to learn more about their respective languages. The Frenchman had grown to love his English and American comrades and wished to work with more like them in the future.

Peggy was with the Colonel, contacting local and reinforcements from the U.S. Everyone would be needed for this final attack and every available troop had to be spared for the operation.

Falsworth himself had another way of dealing with what was to come. Contacting family. He had more than his own friends in the SSR. He had a daughter serving in Britain's Women's Voluntary Service for three years. None of them knew about her except for Agent Carter and Colonel Phillips. It was required for the SSR to have detailed information on family and close friends.

He didn't mind that, but he wanted to wait until he felt it was right to discuss his family. It was a matter of pride and security for the man. Though with how much was at stake, including the possible loss of his own life, he knew he had to talk before it was too late. Four years ago, his daughter Jacqueline had been attacked by a self proclaimed vampire named Baron Blood. A known Nazi collaborator he had discovered at a later date. The attack sent her into a coma for months and she required several blood transfusions. They had kept in close contact since the war began, and even when he was captured, they still sent letters to one another. Unfortunately, when the Howling Commandoes were formed, he had lost touch.

Sitting down in a lonely cubicle in a corridor just off the main stretch of the office, Falsworth took careful consideration to pen what could be his last letter. He grabbed a nearby fountain pen and some slightly yellowed lined paper and placed it in front of him. Staring down at the empty sheet, wondering what he could say. The anticipation made it hell for him, just thinking of what to tell his daughter. Fighting Hydra and their legions was much easier than this. He decided on speaking as honestly as possible, right from the heart.

I am terribly sorry for my silence this past year, there is no excuse for it. Even with the war on, I should have found ample time. Much has happened and much is still to happen before the war is to end. You remember Colonel Phillips? The one you met in Westminster General? He had me and the rest of the 107th Infantry march into Austria to capture a member of Hitler's inner circle, Johann Schmitt. We never knew just how far the man had separated himself from his former brethren. Nor how advanced he had become. I was captured along with the rest of my comrades. Thankfully, we were rescued by a fledgling Captain America. You have more than likely read the papers and seen those ghastly films of his heroic exploits. Lord, I hate those things. He recruited me to his squad along with six others. One we lost in the Alps... Him and his adopted son have taught me much about true strength and the power of the soul. They are an unstoppable force to be reckoned with and I am blessed to call them my friends. I hope one day you can meet them. As a commando in his squad, I have assisted him in many missions. All of which unfortunately I cannot disclose the specifics of. You understand. This next mission however just may be our last. I have no knowing if we will survive or not, but I will sure do better than my best to. You are always on my mind my sweet and moving forward, you always will be. After this, I will come visit. Then we can talk about visiting Iceland like you always wanted. I do love you Jacqueline, never forget that.
With all my love,
Father.

Steve and Firebrand spent their time just talking with each other. Mostly about what life was like for the man before the war. What Bucky was like growing up and what his parents were like. Many stories of times long past, making what was about to come feel even more significant. Down in the motor cade in one of the Army transport vehicles, Firebrand and Steve sat across from each other in opposite seats. Just sitting down properly like that felt natural for the American. Since the war began, so many things had been happening and he never got a chance to talk about his feelings or thoughts on anything. Cap sat on the edge of a seat while Firebrand let his back hooves hang down over the edge. The colt did his best to mimic his human father's position as he held on to the armrests with his forelegs, having a grip on the chair. Though the position did provide a small amount of pressure on his tail, he got used to it pretty quickly.

"I don't think I've ever told you about your grandpa or grandma have I?" Steve asked rhetorically.

Firebrand could tell that this was a difficult subject for his father, despite his immature mind, he still knew how to read people. He would have to tread carefully with everything.

"What are they like? Or...what were they like? Grandma and Grandpa? Uncle Bucky...seemed like your only family member other than me. I don't see you write like the others do. I always see the other men writing letters to people."

Steve looked up at the colt and he could see a glimmer of happiness in the man's eyes among all the sadness and regret.

"Right after the last big war. Everyone was down on hard times, especially my Ma. I never knew your grandpa all that well, but I have a few memories. He was in the 107th Infantry like we are. He fought in the last war and got hit by mustard gas in Kaiserschlact. The Kaiser's Battle in Northern France. A million and a half lives snuffed out. Dad...was just one of them."

He couldn't fathom that feeling. Watching his own father die right in front of him was a terrifying enough feeling. But never knowing what happened and being told afterwards? That thought made Firebrand feel even worse.

"Not your fault buddy, that war was even more complicated than this one. We didn't even know why we were fighting to begin with or who we were fighting."

"I know. A lot of things aren't. Your...Grandma and I had a hard time after that, going through the depression. I stuck to studying at local libraries as best as I could so I could try to get a job. Ma had to take multiple jobs herself just to keep us going. One day though, she took a job as a nurse at a Tuberculosis Ward. It paid the bills for a while...

Firebrand remembered from his readings in Howard's office. Tuberculosis. A pretty deadly disease a caused by bacteria. The bacteria usually attack the lungs, but can also damage other parts of the body.

"Mom got hit by it...couldn't shake it. I met Bucky not to long after. His parents were friends of my parents and we always got along. They took me in and raised me the best they could. I mostly just turned into a scrawny wimp who couldn't protect himself."

The colt looked down in sympathy and sadness, never knowing that his human father had demons and uncertainty of his own. Steve just smiled and stood up, walking over and lifting the colt's chin up with a finger.

"Then you came along after my transformation," Steve said with a smile. "You gave me something new to care about."

Steve nodded as he sat down next to the foal and ruffled his mane with a gloved hand. They continued their private talk as Steve diverged into many different topics, feeling more free and open than he had been for years.

They were deployed quickly ahead of the others, Steve told Firebrand the whole plan in detail beforehand and while reluctant to leave him, he trusted his father's judgement. The Superfortress that transported them brought their gear and parachuted them down into the misty Thrandt Forest of the Northern German alps. A place known for many myths and legends, fantastical tales of fairies, beasts, monsters, and horrors of every kind. Stories of werewolves and vampires were not uncommon in this place. Thick blankets of fog enveloped the thick labyrinth of trees like a soupy miasma. Cap's bike was deployed as he leaped on, clicked up the kick stand and rode off into the mist.

The access road right to the base wasn't that hard to find. An open path with fresh tank treads ground into the moist forest soil. Rumbling underneath, his bike sped on through finding no clear obstacles in sight. Only stray branches that had fallen down off of the local evergreen trees were crushed under the combined weight of Steve and his bike. Tiny water droplets of the forest mist sprayed his face, giving Cap a temporary feeling of refreshment in what was to be his hardest battle yet. Any animals that may have been in the area before would have surely ran off from the foreign sound of the human machine. It was better that way; no distractions or innocent life to get in the way of the wanton destruction he was about to cause.

He went around a bend in the road and suddenly he heard a terrible roar coming from behind him and the sound of bullets flying past his ears like bats chasing after pest bugs. Turning back to get a look, he saw a small squadron of nine Hydra bikers in super bikes of their own. They were clearly disciplined, sticking together in a tight formation as they took pursuit of Cap. With each tight turn in the road, they all turned in unison, keeping their formation with masterful precision. Steve looked ahead and saw two parallel trees that would be perfect for one of his newest toys. He pressed a button on the right handle which launched an electrified line into the two trees. Four ducked while the other three weren't fast enough and were shocked into violent convulsions as they were ripped off of their bikes.

The next toy up Cap's sleeve was a special afterburner Howard Stark upgraded at last minute, being inspired by Firebrand's abilities. The afterburner released a jet of napalm filled with tiny white phosphorus canisters. The resulting blast immolated one bike to a crisp, sending one biker flying and the other was melted entirely, biker and all. The smoke blinded the others and sent them off the road and crashing into the forest with explosions. The other two he missed down a fork in the road, but found them quickly as he came up from behind and pulled out a special glowing red bottle of volatile magic Firebrand had made himself for the American. The foal had called it a Blood Moon after hearing the name of the alcohol it had contained before.

He sped up and threw it onto the ground behind him. It created a fifty foot fireball that lit up the forest like the Fourth of July, vaporized the trees around it and propelled him twenty miles faster than he should have been going. He didn't dare to look back to see what kind of devastation the item had caused.

Just ahead, he could spot the concrete bunker walls leading right to the entrance of Hydra's primary base. The base was built right into the mountain which most assuredly reached a thousand feet up. Two bulky guard towers standing just ten yards off the ground at a slant would be perfect for driving up. An uber tank blocked the way in, firing at him with blasts of blue energy, forcing him to duck and dodge.

He reached for his shield and mounted it onto his steering column, providing him with a good deal of protection. Cannons from inside the two bunkers, plus the uber-tank in the center gave Steve a run for his money as he weaved through a constant volley after volley of energy shots, listening each time as they charged up with an electronic whine. Each shot hit the road, sending dirt and rock into the air with clouds of dust.

As Steve got closer, the tank approached, giving him little time left to react properly. He flipped an analog switch on his left handle, firing two small missiles from the front of his bike, and blowing up the uber-tank instantly. The remains of the tank flew skywards, giving Cap the opportunity he needed to put the petal to the metal as he grabbed another Blood Moon and threw it into the left side bunker as he rode up and over it, letting the structure blow into a hailstorm of rubble with a loud bang.

Dozens of tanks, jeeps, and assault transport vehicles were damaged or destroyed in the second explosion. The rubble acted as fire cover, pelting minor grunts and troops to the ground, killing some and knocking out others. Seeing the main entrance into the mountain base, he rigged the bike to explode and aimed it as he leaped off and onto the back of a nearby Scorcher. The bike obliterated the thick steel door, leaving a gaping hole. Steve felt somewhat sad at the destruction of his little vehicle. It had been with him and Firebrand for a long time through the course of the war and now it felt like he was saying goodbye to an old friend.

He knocked out the Scorcher and aimed its rocket launcher at multiple groups of grunts and other Scorchers that tried to approach. Blasting away a hundred troops and still more and more kept on coming towards him. He launched his shield and chained together a dozen hits on twelve separate grunts, knocking out each one. When another Scorcher tried shooting him from behind, Steve launched himself off of a nearby tank, leaped into the air, swatting away the shots as he smacked the Scorcher down and used the edge of the shield to bore into the man's neck. His head was nearly sliced off entirely in the kill. Blood spattered across the edge and into the dirt, staining the earth.

The distant crack of a sniper's bullet coming higher up the side of the mountain made him react as he batted the bullet away and blew a whole through the head of a Warden that tried to charge at Steve. Fifty armored troops swarmed him, forcing Steve into his "overdrive mode" which he tapped into a few times at Castle Zemo. Each punch and kick resulted in a grunt being launched skyward over thirty feet away, either smashing into something or coming back down to earth with a fatal injury. He could feel bones snap and break with each point of contact. It was rather invigorating. He let loose with his shield, racking up a record twenty impacts against twenty separate troops. It was a rather amusing sight to behold.

Unfortunately, Steve's fun was cut short as he found his overdrive mode leaving. Six Scorchers with two flamethrowers each cornered Steve in one spot, blowing flames at each other as if making a wall of fire. Then an armed platoon of two hundred soldiers came out and aimed right at him...

Meanwhile, Firebrand was strapped tightly to Dugan's back as they continued their way up the mountain. While Cap was distracting the others, the Howling Commandoes were sneaking their way up to a proper vantage point that would prove useful to their plan. The surveillance photos had taken a shot of a window that looked over the entire mountain range. Just a few thousand feet up. They brought only the bare essentials that was needed for the battle at hand, leaving behind anything that could be spared. Though one particular piece of equipment was lugged up with them that was a vital part of the plan. Falsworth had found maintenance paths winding up and around the mountain, giving them the proper way they needed. Firebrand was psyched up more than ever, realizing what was going to be needed for the final stretch of their war with Hydra as they approached the peak.

The colt adjusted his jacket and menacingly rubbed his hoof up and down his secret weapon, relishing what it was going to do to the Red Skull and his troops.

A New Brand of Freedom

by Spettro138

Cut Off One Head (part 1)