After discussing the current layout of Hell's Kitchen, the captain took the beer his old friend handed him and chugged it down in one go.
"We need to talk about money." Steve placed the bottle on the wooden edge.
Dum Dum, puffing on a cigar, chuckled, "The sun must have risen in the west! The famous Captain America has finally deigned to look down at his wallet. Our lives are really pathetic these days."
Steve gave a wry smile, "No, we don't have a single penny."
Frank leaned back in his chair. "So what are you planning to do? Go to South America empty-handed and go head-to-head with Shocker?"
Steve remained silent; everyone in the room knew just how dire the reality was.
During World War II, the Army Logistics Department transported entire train cars full of bullets, jeeps, and canned goods to the Howling Commandos ' camps.
Howard Stark even arranged for special equipment specifically for him.
He woke up after sleeping in ice for half a century, only to find that S.H.I.E.L.D.. was paying for everything, and all he had to do was sign a document.
The military had previously provided him with an entire Howling Commandos unit, including equipment, logistics, and intelligence.
Now that he's out of the system, all he has left besides the Vibranium Shield are Dugan, Frank, and a few lists of troublemakers hidden under the iron box.
Do you know how much it costs to build a capable special forces team?
Frank raised three fingers and shook them, then realized it wasn't enough, so he simply stretched out both hands.
"Low-altitude transport planes that can't be detected by air defense radar, unserialized guns bought on the black market, antibiotics and blood plasma, forged passports, and toll money paid to local guides in South America."
"Which of those desperate criminals on the list doesn't have a warrant hanging over their head? Without a hefty settlement, who would risk their life for you?"
He spread his palms out. "Without a minimum of twenty million US dollars, we can't even set foot on the mudflats of the South America coastline."
Dum Dum whistled, "Twenty million. God be my witness, I can't even scrape together two thousand dollars in cash right now, unless I sell all the old tables in this pool hall for firewood."
Steve looked up, his face showing utter helplessness.
"I know."
"Who are you planning to contact?" Frank asked directly.
"There aren't many people who can give you this much money. Stark is one, Vought is one, oh, and Osborn."
Dum Dum waved his hand dismissively. "Don't even mention that Stark kid. After that mess in Jacksonville, he was already showing restraint by not driving a metal can and turning Steve into mincemeat."
"If we ask him for money to rescue Bucky, he'll just throw missiles at our faces. As for Osborn, I don't know him."
"About Bucky..." Steve lowered his head, "I can't bring myself to say it."
"That leaves only Vought," Frank said bluntly.
" Lynn Morris was Howard's former partner, Tony's godfather, and the emperor of the Vought Empire. That guy had enough cash to buy the entire Long Island and use it as his backyard."
Steve did not answer immediately.
He stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the gloomy sky through the old glass.
" Mr. Morris..."
Steve repeated the name softly.
Lynn Morris.
This name holds complex meaning deep within Steve's memory.
In the 1940s, that young businessman stood outside the spotlight, watching with a smile as he performed a farce on a touring stage, before turning around and using capital to pry open the doors of Stark Industries.
Half a century later, the world has completely changed, but that man has built a behemoth spanning media, arms, and Superman medicine.
The most frightening thing is that Morris's face is still stuck in World War II.
I haven't seen him since I woke up in the ice.
Dum Dum walked over and patted Steve on the shoulder.
What are you hesitating about?
" Morris isn't Red Skull. Back in the Europe war Foresight Holdings supplied us with a lot of penicillin. He and Howard were sworn brothers."
Steve turned around.
"I'm wondering how I'm going to pay this back."
"What I owe Stark, I can repay with my life; what I owe Vought..."
Frank was very direct.
"You're afraid of being tied to Vought's war machine, aren't you?"
"Are you worried that your Howling Commandos will take his check and then end up cleaning up Vought's messes everywhere, becoming his personal henchmen?"
Steve did not deny it.
Vought International has expanded to an unbridled extent; even members of Congress have to watch their backs, and the media has become their mouthpiece.
Once they don Vought's gold collar, the Howling Commandos ' proclaimed independence and justice will become a complete joke.
"You're thinking too far ahead, Captain."
Dum Dum chimed in, "If Morris really had any ideas, he would have made his move the moment you were pulled out."
"Look at those superheroes on TV, they have more monsters at their disposal than any active S.H.I.E.L.D.. field agent. They have no reason to mess with us old bones."
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
Frank added, " Shocker is doing those biochemical human modifications in the South America jungles, Doctor Shinigami's ambitions are growing. A capitalist like Morris, who treats the entire planet as a private market, will never be happy to see a bunch of uncontrollable lunatics emerge in South America."
Steve thought for a moment and nodded.
"You're right, we need the money, and he's the only one we can ask."
"Then it's settled." Dum Dum rubbed his hands together. "When will you pay the visit?"
"The sooner the better," Steve said.
"Information from Shocker indicates that they are accelerating the modification process for Unit 2."
"If this drags on any longer, Bucky might really be beyond saving."
Frank stood up. "I'll go with you."
Steve looked at him. "Aren't you going to continue investigating Hell's Kitchen?"
"After investigating for so long, we haven't even found a trace."
Frank sneered, "Those rats in the Hand are hiding too well; I can't find them by myself."
"I owe Daredevil my life, and we don't even know if he's alive or dead. I have to do something about it."
Dugan patted Frank on the shoulder. "That's a good thing."
"Then tomorrow," Steve decided.
"We'll go to the headquarters of Vought International first thing tomorrow morning."
"Hopefully Mr. Morris will be willing to see us," Dum Dum muttered.
Steve didn't reply.
He walked back to the table and picked up the list of troublemakers.
The names listed above are densely packed; each one is a formidable figure capable of standing alone.
But without money, these people are just pseudonyms on paper.
"Oh, right," Frank suddenly remembered, "Did you know that Vought recently released a new hero?"
"Another one." Dum Dum rolled his eyes. "How many is this this month?"
"Its codename is Heavy Artillery, and it's said to be able to flip over armored vehicles with its bare hands," Frank said.
" Vought's current star-making speed is frighteningly fast; it feels like they have an inexhaustible supply of super soldiers."
Steve didn't speak; he was thinking.
Serum, modification, superheroes...
These words reminded him of Dr. Erskine, of Red Skull, of the powers that had been abused.
"What exactly is Mr. Morris trying to do..." Steve muttered to himself.
No one can answer this question.
The sky outside the window grew darker and darker, and raindrops began to patter against the glass.
Steve stared at the list in his hand, his mind filled with images of Bucky being transformed.
He must act quickly.
Even if it means incurring a huge debt of gratitude.
"What are you going to say when you see Morris tomorrow?" Dum Dum asked.
Steve looked up, his eyes showing no hesitation.
"To be honest, I need money, I need weapons, and I need his help."
In exchange...
Frank continued, "In exchange, what can you give him?"