JUN. YEAR 3
MV1 Presents ... The Star Spangled Avenger ...
CAPTAIN AMERICA # 484
To All Things A Beginning
double-sized finale, written by Mark Bousquet, bowing out for now

From the History Books … Viper is out to make herself a force to be reckoned with by creating a new criminal organization … in her first attack against Captain America, she sent a new Porcupine - the son of the original - knowing he wasn’t yet ready - Cap and Falcon defeated him … Ashley Andersen continues to deal with the wings growing out of her back … Ethos continues to make the rounds of America

The Menagerie

Viper lay in bed, allowing her heart rate to decelerate.

"God, Viper, that was-"

"Are you still here, Paul?" she asked harshly. "Do not presume that since we … participate in these activities together, you share my bed. When you have defeated Captain America for good you will have earned a place beside me."

"Sorry, Viper, my apologies," Paul Gentry scolded himself as he slunk out of the bed. "I have things to do anyway, things to help you, of course," he added quickly as he closed the door.

Viper smiled. Stupid rube.

But still, she wondered if she should have dismissed him so quickly. She still … hungered. Her body felt alive as she allowed herself to wonder just what Captain America was doing right at this instant.

Soon … so soon …

The Apartment of Steve Rogers

Steve Rogers stretched his arms over his head and rolled his head in a backward arc. He checked the clock on the wall, 11:34 PM, noting that the last page had taken him twelve hours. Good thing he had used part of his Avengers stipend building up a nice jazz collection.

Steve loved jazz - so intricate and flowing. He could listen to it for hours, rolling it around in his brain, trying to follow each instrument through the various pieces. During his time in World War II, Steve had spent some time in the American dance halls over in Europe and had enjoyed the big band and swing pieces of the day.

Now, after being dethawed by the Avengers,* Steve had tried to branch out musically by studying American forms of music - the better to know the history of his country - which had led him to jazz.

* Avengers # 4 -- Back Back Back Mark …

‘Wish I’d learned to play an instrument in my younger days,’ Steve thought to himself, amazed at how Coltrane could be so restrained one second and then explode in the next.

It reminded him a bit of Wolverine, of all people.

This X-Men Annual he was drawing wasn’t too bad, he thought. Apparently Marvel didn’t just have trouble keeping an artist on board, but writers, too. No one wanted to touch it.

He wished there was more he could do as Captain America to help mutants out, but what? Should he try to get some younger mutants recruited into the Avengers? Should he put together a new group that consisted solely of mutants to not only train them, but to raise public awareness of the good things they were doing?

Steve smiled. Maybe he should announce to the world that Captain America was a mutant. What would the public’s reaction be to that?

Heck, Steve realized, there are those that probably couldn’t handle that I listen to jazz or that JFK is one of my favorite movies.

Man, he was tired. He still hadn’t had time to deal with what had happened to him on the planet Beckque.* Working for Nazi’s … he shook his head. It wasn’t right what was being done to them. Just because a class of people has been opressed doesn’t mean that when they take power they have the right to turn around and commit attrocities on their former oppressors.

* See CAPTAIN AMERICA 477 - 479

But still … Steve realized he’d have to be careful in the coming months and years to be more open to how he was coming across to people.

He knew he had a habit of not dealing with problems well. That he’d repress the bad emotions and let it fester inside him. There were several examples: Bucky, his Nomad years, the Galactic Storm mission and the lingering bad vibes with Dane … he had no intention of allowing this Revolution affair to haunt him.

Yes, he made a mistake. A horrible, gut-wrenching mistake, but nobody died and he put the two sides on equal footing. Not the best outcome, but not the worst, either.

But still … doubts lingered. Something about the whole affair gnawed away at the back of his mind. Then there was Sam. He had yet to subject himself to a mind scan. Tomorrow, Sam promised, but then again, he’d promised every day since they got back from Mount Beaulieu.

And Sharon … what was with that kiss?*

* See CAPTAIN AMERICA 480

Steve didn’t want a relationship right now - or was it that he didn’t like his options at the moment? Rachel* was a nice person, but he didn’t want anything serious with her. And Sharon .. who knew? There was too much baggage there for it even to be considered, Steve figured.

* Rachel Leighton, aka Diamondback - She’s a Champion now, Mark …

Sometimes Steve wondered if he’d ever again have what he had with Bernie. * Or if that failed relationship would haunt him forever.

* Bernie Rosenthal - Fond Remembrances Mark …

He smiled despite himself. Maybe he was internalizing this too much, as well.

Steve looked around his sparse apartment, wondering what to do. Sleep? Shower? Work? Go out on patrol? Call Clint back? What he really needed was a way to do it all …

He rose from his artist’s workbench and sat down on the floor, crossing his legs.

Back after he had first become Captain America and the Army had him going sixteen, seventeen, nineteen hours a day, yanking and pushing him from one training exercise to the next, he’d often be stuck with bizarre periods of inactivity. Maybe one general would let him out too soon, or a captain wouldn’t be ready for him, or a meeting ran long … whatever the case was, Steve could count on a couple times during the day when he’d have nothing to do but wait.

What he had done is what almost anyone does in situations like that. He’d lean back against the wall, close his eyes and think of something peaceful and relaxing.

He was meditating. It wasn’t the mental picture you’d get when you thought of meditation, but he was doing a form of it, nonetheless.

Now, as he sat on the floor and closed his eyes-

"I bet the National Enquirer would pay big bucks for a picture of Captain America meditating."

Steve opened his eyes calmly. "They wouldn’t pay a cent, Sharon, if you gave them this picture. It’s just a normal guy sitting on his living room floor."

"Well, then," Sharon smiled, accentuating her hips as she walked across the room, "they’d probably pay big bucks to know just who Captain America is."

"Doubtful," Steve responded, rising to his feet before Sharon got to him, "I don’t think they’re very interested in the truth."

"So?" Sharon smiled. "Wanna get naked?"

"Sharon!" Steve snapped. "What’s gotten in to you? First that kiss, and now-"

"Cut it out, Steve," she smiled, unzipping the front of her all-black costume. "After everything that’s gone on, and all that time we have to make up for …"

Steve looked at her closely, ignoring the suddenly ringing phone. It would be nice and so easy to lose himself in this woman, but he couldn’t. There was so much that he and Sharon needed to talk about before they could ever get to this step.

"Sharon, I …"

Captain America, who would go into battle with the likes of the Red Skull, Kang and Ultron without batting an eye thanked the heavens right then that a blood curtling scream from outside the apartment saved him from dealing with a beautiful and disrobing blond.

Outside …

The scream was ripped from her body like the wings on her back. It was as if a force from above reached down into her gut and yanked it out of her, demanding it to be as loud and as long as it could.

Ashley Andersen thought she had come to know pain as wings slowly were birthed from her back. Over the past two weeks she has lived with the knowledge that she was becoming something else. All her life she just wanted to be left as alone as possible. That’s why she was an archaeologist. That’s why she took the night shift at the Storm Museum.* Her reasons for wanting to be left alone were known only inside her own mind.

* For a rundown of exactly what happened to Ashley, check out CAPTAIN AMERICA 481

But now, now she had a reason to want to remain away from other people. No longer able to be left hidden, Ashley had a set of broad, white wings on her back that demanded attention.

She lay crumpled on a rooftop, screaming into the night, praying to any god that would listen that she was sorry for whatever she had done to deserve this.

No gods answered.

Ashley felt more shame than she had since … since that other stuff. Worse, earlier tonight she actually stood in her mirror and thought to herself how beautiful the wings looked. How could she have done such a thing?

But they were. They were so beautiful that she wished with all her heart that they’d never go away and knew that despite the pain, despite the realization that she’d never again get to be the same old Ashley Andersen that slipped through life with barely a second glance from anyone, she knew that this was a blessing of some kind.

Or a challenge. As if Fate had watched her slide through the years and dared her to deal with this.

None of which changed the fact that her back hurt like hellfire itself.

The Apartment of Sam Wilson

Sam Wilson entered his apartment, sweating from his latest patrol as the Falcon. He had a lot on his mind these days, most of which centered around that very mind that was busy thinking.

What did Viper do to him back at Mount Beaulieu?* Anything?

* See CAPTAIN AMERICA 477 - 480 – You Will Obey Mark …

He was certain that she had done nothing to him, that there was no way he could be walking around as a sleeper agent for the crazy villainess, but …

But isn’t that exactly how he’d feel if Viper had programmed him?

He tossed his costume onto the sofa in disgust. Worse than not knowing was the doubt that Steve had in his mind about him. Sam knew he should just submit to a mind scan, but with all that Snap Wlson/Cosmic Cube/Red Skull business he’d gone through years earlier, he hated anyone messing around with his mind.

Redwing said nothing as it flew into Sam’s apartment and Sam barely acknowledged it’s entrance. Sam rubbed his eyes, things were never easy for him. He’d been trying to set up a neighborhood watch program, but he had discovered much to his disgust that most of the people who signed up for the watch didn’t bother to show up.

If only he had more money.

He looked to the table where Redwing had landed and blinked his eyes. Then he blinked them again. And again. Then, Sam Wilson closed his eyes and looked away. He looked back. He shook his head, then blinked his eyes, then shook his head. Sam decided what he was looking at wasn’t fake, and somehow found the strength to move his feet.

Atop a mountain of green American bills, Redwing sat there calmly, as if there was nothing strange at all about a pile of money sitting on Sam Wilson’s kitchen table.

Whe he reached the cash, he noticed a note resting on top, next to Redwing. He picked up the typed note and read it aloud.

"To Sam Wilson, this is a gift, a donation to help your noble cause. I trust you will know what to do with 250,000 American dollars. Signed - John Smith"

Stunned almost out of reality, Sam barely registered that the phone was suddenly ringing.

The Roof of the Apartment of Steve Rogers

Captain America dashed up the flight of steps three stairs at a time and burst through the door that led to the roof.

"AAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"

Steve was half-expecting to find someone bleeding to death. He wasn’t expecting to see a fallen angel, lying on her side on the dirty roof, clutching her stomach.

He walked to her slowly, noting the pained expression on her face. She had stopped screaming. "Are you okay, miss?" he asked, concerned but not going in blind. The girl looked to be no older than twenty.

"Huh?" she asked, picking her head up, every movement causing her pain. "Whoa, Captain Ameri … ca."

"Can you stand?" Cap asked.

"N-no," Ashley grunted, but managed to sit up.

Cap noticed the way her wings moved unnaturally. He’d seen the original X-Man Angel enough to know how big wings on the back of humans worked. "The wings are new, aren’t they?"

"Yeah," Ashley answered, putting her head between her knees. She felt like she was going to throw up. "They just started growing a couple weeks ago."

Steve struggled with what to do next. Clearly, this woman was going to need some training, but he wasn’t exactly an expert at this kind of thing. Maybe Sam could give her a hand. At the very least, she was going to need to be checked out by a doctor. Maybe the best thing to do would be to take her to Avengers Mansion and hope Hanks Pym or McCoy were around.

"What do I do?" she asked, picking her head up.

Steve was impressed at how composed she was. "You could start by telling me your name," Cap smiled. "Mine’s Captain America."

Ashley smiled back. "Really? With that costume? Never woulda guessed it."

"You must be new in town, then."

"Maybe it’s just these wings messing up my eye-sight," she smiled back and took Cap’s hand as he helped her to her feet.

"So what are you doing up here …?"

"Oh, sorry. Ashley. Ashley Andersen. Like I said, these wings started growing a couple weeks back. I thought they were done growing, so I decided to give them a test flight." She smiled as she allowed Cap to help her walk across the rooftop. "I still need some practice. Where are we going, anyway?"

"Since you’re new in town, I figure you should see the inside of Avengers Mansion."

Viper dialed the phone number that she had been given by her sleeper agent and listened to the phone ring.

"Hello?"

"Menagerie, pet."

"I await your command, Viper."

"Is Captain America with you?"

"No, but I can find him easily enough."

"Find him and kill him."

"As you command, Viper."

Viper hung up the phone and smiled. She knew, as she had with Porcupine, there was no chance that her puppet was going to kill Captain America, but it would help build the foundation she had been laying since she hired Mysterio.*

* See CAPTAIN AMERICA 477 - 479

She wondered for a second if she had made a mistake in revelaing the sleeper agent this early, but the more time that passed, the greater the risk that the sleeper would be discovered. And if discovered, it would really do Viper no good at all. Better to get something while she could, she reasoned.

She smiled to herself. That poor sap Falcon had no idea.

"Need a hand?"

Steve turned around to see Falcon descending onto the rooftop. "No, I’ve got this under control, Falcon." Steve caught himself. "Actually, come to think of it, I could use a hand training this young woman here how to fly. She’s new to the wings." And it’ll get you back to Avengers Mansion, Steve thought to himself.

"Sure, not a problem. But," Steve noticed how cold the Falcon’s voice suddenly got, "I’ve come to see you about something else."

Steve turned his body slightly to put Ashley behind him and his shield on Sam’s side.

With everything that had gone on and Sharon’s insistance that something had been do to Sam by Viper, Steve wasn’t going to risk an innocent if Sam gave him any indication that something was up. It was awful to not completely trust a friend, but what else could Steve do? Given what had become of Bill Andersen,* Steve couldn’t risk it.

* CAPTAIN AMERICA 475 - 476 - All Hail Big Green Things Mark …

"When I got home tonight, I found something waiting for me."

"Something green?" Steve asked, smelling Viper in the air.

"Er, yeah," the Falcon replied. "How did- MOVE!"

The Falcon lunged at Captain America and Ashley Andersen. Cap brought the shield up to block Sam’s attack, but Ashley was weighing him down. Her wings flapped reflexively and in two strong flaps she had lifed Captain America into the air.

"Huh?" the Falcon asked, surprised.

BANG!

Sam swore to himself and dodged, but the bullet grazed his left arm, causing him to crash to the ground.

Above, Ashley’s body gave out. Her wings weren’t strong enough yet to hold a person and she dropped Captain America straight down. Cap twisted as he fell, so when he landed he was looking directly at the person who fired the gun.

Sharon Carter.

"Sharon?" Cap asked, but his only answer was another bullet. BANG! Cap was ready for it and already had his shield up and positioned to deflect the bullet out of harm’s way. "Sharon! Stop it!"

Sharon smiled in response. "To bad you didn’t sleep with me, Steve," she cooed seductively. "Viper would have appreciated a spawn of Captain America to raise as her own child!"

Steve’s blood ran cold. Sharon was the sleeper agent all along. But there was no time to dwell on it, Sharon needed to be stopped and deprogrammed. "We can talk, Sharon."

"I hate talking," Sharon smiled, her eyes blank. She took a step forward, keeping the gun focused squarely on Cap’s forehead.

"AH!"

Ashley Andersen fell from the sky, her wings unable to even hold her aloft. As she fell, however, she made a point to steer herself onto the blond woman’s head.

Sharon was caught by surprise at the object falling on her. She kicked wildly and looked up, desperate to get Captain America back in her sights. She looked right into his eyes.

And then she saw a red fist flash towards her and the gun fell away.

She had failed Viper.

Steve grabbed her arms roughly and pulled them behind her back.

"I didn’t know you liked it rough, Steve," Sharon spat.

"Quiet," Cap ordered. "Ashley, Falcon, are you two okay?"

"No worse than I was before," Ashley groaned from her knees.

"Fine, I’m fine," Sam answered while grabbing his left arm. "Skin wound, nothing more. I’ll be fine."

"Go to my apartment, Falcon, and get some duct tape."

"What’s the plan, Cap?" Sam asked, already heading down the stairs.

"We’re all going to Avengers Mansion."

Avengers Mansion

Hank Pym and Henry McCoy were busy in one of the Mansion’s laboratories, trying to figure out exactly what was wrong with Sharon Carter. Steve had long since left them to their work. They were professionals and didn’t need a baby-sitter.

Besides, he wanted to check in on Ashley and Sam up in the living room.

"Is the tea sufficient, miss?"

"It’s wonderful, Jarvis. Thank you very much," Ashley mumbled.

"I sense a sadness within you, child, if I may be so bold," Jarvis offered gently as he sat down next to her on the couch. "I know it is not my place, but if there is anything I - or the Avengers - could do, all you need to do is ask."

Ashley looked at the old man and forced a smile. "It’s been a tough life, Jarvis. There are … things in my past that I don’t like to talk about. I … I don’t have many friends, to be honest and now," she ruffled her feathers, "I wonder if I’ll ever have any. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not upset with the wings, far from it. But I worry how people will react."

"You have a good heart, Miss Andersen," Jarvis smiled warmly. "It does not take any special talents to see that. I trust that you will have many more bright days from here on out than bad ones."

Ashley blushed. "Your words are too kind, Jarvis."

"No such thing, my dear."

Off to the side, Steve and Falcon shared some thoughts.

"How much money was it?"

"Hard to say, Steve," Sam answered. "Rough estimate, couple hundred thousand. There was so much I couldn’t even stash it anywhere. I just tossed a quilt over it and kept Redwing there to guard it."

"And you have no idea who sent it?"

Sam sighed. This was going to be tough. "Card attatched said John Smith."

"John Smith!" Cap’s whole body perked up. "As in Johann Schmidt, the Red Skull?"

"I don’t know, but I don’t see why the Skull would-"

"Never say that," Steve snapped. "The Red Skull is capable of anything. We need to get that money to someone who can check it out for us, see if there’s any clues we can find on it. Maybe-"

"No."

Steve blinked his eyes. "What?"

"No. I’m keeping it."

"You can’t be serious. The money is probably stolen. John Smith has to be a front for the Skull."

"I don’t care, Steve," Sam shook his head. "Do you have any idea how tough it is to get funding for inner city projects? Red Skull or not, I can put a couple hundred thousand dollars to good use."

"But the money is probably dirty!"

"Don’t care, Steve."

The two old friends looked at each other hard. Steve turned away and shook his head. "It’s your money, Sam, so it’s your call. But I don’t like the idea of the Skull-"

"We don’t even know it is the Red Skull, Steve," Sam reasoned. "There are thousands of John Smiths in the world. No, don’t look at me like that. I realize that there’s a chance that it is part of the Skull’s next scheme. But what harm can be done in feeding people this Christmas? Or putting up a playground? If it is the Skull’s money than I can see nothing better to do with it than spend it on something good and pure. And we can’t take it in to get checked, Steve. You know as well as I that if it got out I had this money, some Bank would claim it and the neighborhood would lose all of it."

Steve offered Sam his hand, "I don’t like it, Sam, but I respect your intentions."

Captain America left Sam and walked over to Ashley just as Jarvis was departing.

"What's next for you, Miss Andersen?"

"I guess I become a superhero, right?" she smiled. "That's how these things work, I'm told. Have a normal life, get some crazy power, start beating up bad guys? Truth is," she pondered, staring at her cup of tea, "I have no idea. And please, call me Ashley."

Steve smiled. "How are you feeling, Ashley?"

"Like I’m ready for tomorrow," she smiled warmly.

"Me, too," Captain America answered. "Me, too."

EPILOGUE ONE

Viper watched the tape over and over that she had recorded from a camera planted on Sharon Carter’s costume. She could claim that the loss was due to the lucky fall of that winged woman, but Viper knew that Captain America would have found some way to win.

He always had.

But even Captain America had to lose sometime and Viper wasn’t close to being done with the Star Spangled Avenger.

EPILOGUE TWO

Ashley Andersen wasn’t even interested in sleep. She was lying in a bed in Avengers Mansion! How could she not be excited?

She kept thinking of what Jarvis had said, about bright days in her future.

And Ashley Andersen, lying in a bed at Avengers Mansion, couldn’t help but do something she hadn’t often done in her life.

She smiled. Over and over again.

She'd go into the Storm Museum tomorrow and ask that she be sent on an arcaeological dig so she could get away from the city and have all the time she needed to think about just what to do next.

EPILOGUE THREE

Sam Wilson slept restlessly in his bed, but it still took him three rings before he picked up the phone.

"Hello," he said in a groggy voice. "And this better be good, it’s almost three in the morni-"

"Sam! It’s Mike, here," came a panicked voice from the other end. "I’m in trouble. Big trouble."

"Gotcha," Sam answered. "I’ll be on a plane first thing." He hung up the phone and walked to his closet to pack. Michael Proctor was one of the finest men he knew and it he was in trouble, Sam was going to do everything he could to help him.

The Falcon was on his way to the West Coast.

*See WCA # 108 for the other end of this phone call. Then stay tuned to WCA starting in WCA # 109 for the continuing adventures of the high flying Falcon!

EPILOGUE FOUR

Steve Rogers sat in the grass behind Avengers Mansion and watched the stars. Sharon was doing fine - she’d need to be checked again by SHIELD’s experts, but it looked good for her.

Steve wasn’t so much disappointed with Sam’s decision as he was with the idea that the Red Skull may be back in his life. But no matter - the Skull would forever be around and Steve could only wait to react to it when it happened.

He was pleased with young Ashley Andersen, however. She seemed to be accepting of her newfound wings and saw it as a gift instead of the curse that so many angst-ridden mutants felt about their powers. Not that he blamed them - being a mutant in these times was tough and Steve resolved again to work a little harder at making life better for them. He wasn’t sure how, but he would try.

He was just starting to wonder what the future may hold when he got his answer.

"Hello, Captain America. It is good to see you."

Cap jumped up immediately to see an older man with grey robes standing before him.

"I don’t know how you got past the Mansion’s defenses, mister, but you’re tresppassing."

"Borders mean nothing to me," he answered calmly, his thick Scottish accent shining through. "I’ve been around long enough to know that borders drawn up on maps are more meaningless that the promises of a government made to people it does not care about."

"Who are you?" Cap asked, his shield at the ready.

"You may call me Ethos, Captain America," he bowed slightly. "As for what I want, I am not here to do battle with you, or to bring harm to any who stay inside those hallowed halls behind you."

"Then why are you here?"

"To watch the death of an empire."

"What do you mean, Ethos?"

"Come now, Captain, certainly you can see the crumbling walls of the American Empire around you. Things are not what they used to be. The defining characteristics of the forefathers have all but vanished, have they not? Or were they even there to begin with? Perhaps your whole country is built upon a foundation of lies that it is only now coming to grips with. Look at what has become of the democratic society. No one votes anymore. Politicians are almost completely white rich men - not that that is any different from the forefathers, mind you - who are out for their own gain. The debating society has been turned into the soundbite society. Pro-life forces shoot doctors who give abortions - taking a life because they are opposed to the taking of a life. The extreme factions of society - be it rich or poor or fascist or communist - are taking over, leaving the middle to be squeezed even harder. What has happened to the American Dream? Kids can’t get jobs without going to college, so everyone goes to college and no one gets jobs. American workers are being replaced by machines or their jobs are outsourced to Mexico and the Far East. Made In America means "Expensive and Faulty". The nation hangs it’s head in shame over the treatment of African slaves, yet they turn around and treat mutants like the sub-creatures they so long considered minorities."

"Nice speech, Ethos, but what does it mean? That things aren’t perfect? They never were. We can only try to make things better. We can only struggle on."

"What does that costume represent? America? Which America? There are too many dreams out there for one man to represent them all."

"What people take from my costume is what they want to see. I can only do my best to make the world safer than it was the day before."

"So naïve, Captain America, so very naïve," Ethos turned and began to walk away. "The American Empire is dying and I am here to watch it, perhaps, in places to help it live and perhaps, in others, to speed along it’s fall. I was there in Rome when that Empire fell, and I shall be here for the fall of this one. To all things a beginning. To all things and end."

Steve Rogers took a step to follow Ethos, but he knew somehow that he couldn’t catch him unless Ethos wanted to be caught.

After everything that Steve had been through this past week or so, he was sick of playing games. Was America falling? Was he nothing but an outdated icon?

Steve Rogers didn’t care. He believed he could make a difference and as long as he breathed, that would be the only thing that mattered to him.

TO ALL THINGS A BEGINNING

AMERICAN GRAFFITI

letters c/o mariner2@tiac.net

Thanks for reading one of most bizarre tenures in MV1 history. Stories completed months ahead of time, stories posted all at once ... plans to come back ... plans to start something else ...

I had plans to take over this book again after Neil's run, but now it doesn't look like that is going to be possible. The MV1 Charter - a document I fully support, and one which I had something to do with the creation of - states that a writer can only have three ongoing books at one time. I'm not going anywhere on ALL GOD'S CHILDREN and WEST COAST AVENGERS and it looks like that I'll be launching a certain book at the MV1 INTERNATIONAL site that has had a long and winding road so far without even getting a single issue published. Neil's run looks to be a short one, so if I kept my dib in on CAP, I'd be stuck with four books and that can't happen. So chances are you'll get 5 issues of Mr. Gow and then someone else instead of me. I hope you support whoever it is.

See you in other places. -- Mark ...

March, 1999

Next Issue: The moment MV1 has been waiting for, the super-talented Neil Gow takes the reigns of CAPTAIN AMERICA!