Colonel Phillips tells Peggy Carter this is, “…the perfect time to keep it to yourself.” Peggy exits, hurrying after Steve Rogers, who is packing gear for an unauthorized rescue mission.

Peggy catches up, her voice urgent. “What do you plan to do, walk to Austria?”

Steve, piling clothes into a duffel bag, replies, “If that’s what it takes.”

“You heard the Colonel. Your friend is most likely dead,” Peggy says.

“You don’t know that,” Steve counters.

“Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects – ” begins Peggy.

“By the time he’s done that, it could be too late,” Steve interrupts, pulling a leather jacket over his Captain America costume.

“Steve!” Peggy calls after him, following him outside.

He loads gear into a Jeep, pausing to meet her gaze. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Every word,” Peggy says firmly.

“Then you’ve got to let me go,” Steve insists.

Peggy’s eyes soften. “I can do more than that.”

Back at the camp’s stage, the stage manager claps his hands. “On stage, girls. Five minutes!” Three chorus girls prep, two grabbing helmets labeled “U” and “S.” The “A” helmet is missing.

“Where’s my helmet?” one girl asks.

“Anyone seen Rogers?” the stage manager barks.

The scene shifts to a silver Beechcraft 18 plane soaring over the Italian Alps at night, the “STARK INDUSTRIES” logo gleaming on its tail.

Inside, Peggy briefs Steve using a contour map. “The Hydra camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges. It’s a factory of some kind.”

Howard Stark, piloting, glances back. “We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.”