"You're all Hydra. Don't think you can fool me."
Chaos on the Helicarrier's main deck reached its peak the moment Steve said those words and several guards went down.
His accusation hit like a depth charge in still water, blasting away the last scraps of hope and confusion in everyone's hearts.
Faces that had worn relaxed smiles only moments ago, welcoming a comrade home, now showed nothing but shock, fear, and disbelief.
Hill rushed toward the control console and hit the main communications channel, her voice sharp and urgent:
"All combat units aboard the Helicarrier, be advised: a high-threat target has appeared on the deck. He looks like Captain America, but he's out of control.
"I repeat, he's out of control. This isn't the Steve Rogers we know. All noncombat personnel, evacuate the main deck immediately! Evacuate now!"
Before she had even finished giving the order, Steve struck.
He moved faster than anyone remembered—too fast for the human eye to track.
His figure flickered like a blurred, dark-blue shadow across the center of the deck, then appeared before three guards trying to flank him.
He turned the shield in his hand and struck the first guard squarely on the chin with its edge. The impact sent the guard flying several meters, his feet leaving the floor before he lost consciousness.
The second guard never got to pull the trigger. Steve seized the rifle barrel and snapped his wrist, dismantling the weapon in an instant. Its parts scattered across the deck.
The third guard threw a punch at Steve's face. Steve twisted aside at a nearly impossible angle, then drove an elbow into the guard's ribs, sending him crashing sideways into the bulkhead with a dull thud.
I have to destroy Hydra's nest completely.
Steve's gaze was cold.
"He's advancing toward