In the bombed-out pub in Central London, Steve Rogers locks eyes with Peggy Carter, his voice resolute. “I’m not gonna stop until all of Hydra is dead or captured.”

Peggy meets his gaze. “You won’t be alone.”

At the Strategic Scientific Reserve headquarters, Colonel Phillips stands before a map of Europe and North America, addressing Steve, Peggy, Howard Stark, and the Howling Commandos seated around a conference table. “Johann Schmidt belongs in a bughouse. He thinks he’s a god, and he’s willing to blow up half the world to prove it, starting with the USA.”

Howard leans forward, his tone grave. “Schmidt’s working with powers beyond our capabilities. He gets across the Atlantic? He will wipe out the entire Eastern Seaboard in an hour.”

Gabe Jones looks up, tense. “How much time we got?”

“According to my new best friend, under 24 hours,” Phillips replies.

Falsworth frowns. “Where is he now?”

Phillips taps a surveillance photo. “Hydra’s last base is here. In the Alps, 500 feet below the surface.”

Jim Morita shakes his head. “So what are we supposed to do? I mean, it’s not like we can just knock on the front door.”

Steve’s eyes glint with determination. “Why not?” The team turns to him, surprised. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

The scene shifts to a foggy forest at dawn. Steve, in his Captain America uniform, revs his motorcycle along a tree-lined path, his vibranium shield slung over his back, speeding toward danger with unwavering resolve.