The smoke-filled battlefield was gone now, but battles without smoke that were no less bloody and cruel still continued.
Upon the black current, two ocean liners were slowly sailing side by side.
The night was quiet, with only the sound of waves gently lapping against the hulls. That rhythmic swishing was enough to keep anyone who had never been on a ship awake.
But everyone on an entire ship suffering from insomnia? Wasn't that a little too much of a coincidence?
That was what Steve thought.
After he and Peggy left Hawaii, they had not headed straight for Antarctica. Traveling to Antarctica in this era required extensive preparations, and Chile in South America was the only place with a suitable landing point.
Peggy did not mind. One of them was retired and the other had quit her job; they were both completely free now. This was a rare vacation for them.
During World War II, Peggy had spent a long time doing underground work in France, helping the Allies contact guerrilla forces and organize worker uprisings. She still had quite a few acquaintances there.
And since his girlfriend wanted to visit France, Steve had no reason to refuse, even though he had nothing but miserable memories of the place—like having his stomach stuffed full of rags.
Besides, it was the city of romance. He had a little money now, part of it his discharge pay, the rest spending money from the Godfather.
In the past, although Steve had always thought of Mr. Wilson as his father, he had never said it aloud. But after leaving the military and returning to ordinary life, he seemed to have suddenly understood.
He was a Super Soldier and aged extremely slowly, but although Mr. Wilson did not look old, he was already at least