Epilogue- Casual Drinks

New York City, New York- Fallen Soldiers Bar and Grill- February 25, 2008 (7:35 PM)

Timothy ‘DUM DUM’ Dugan

He opened the door to the bar. Tim noticed a man was about to leave, and since he recognized him as a fellow veteran, he stood there holding it open instead of entering. Nodding at the man he asked, "Chuck, how's the new knee?"

Nodded and muttered, “Hurts when it rains.” As he stepped out into the rain Tim was standing in.

With the man gone, Tim stepped inside. Once out of the rain, he removed his fedora and waved it around before putting it back on. Then removed his jacket and hung it on one of the several hooks by the door.

"Dum Dum!" Tim heard shouts by several patrons and staff of the bar, some young but most old. But all hoisted their drinks to him. Tim waved at them, seeing a young black man he recognized, ‘Tony.’ Tim thought. He was sitting at a table in the back talking to another man, Tim he didn’t recognize.

Tim pointed at him to get his attention. The young man raised his half-empty glass in a toast, and the other turned to see who had grabbed his attention. Even seeing his face didn't spark much in Tim, but he did seem familiar like he should know who his god-grandson was talking to.

Tim walked towards the bar, halfway there the veteran barkeep asked. “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks Dum Dum, you want the usual?”

Tim nodded before speaking as he continued walking. "Please, and open my tab. The flight was murder and I need some sleep yet tonight." By the time he reached 'his' empty bar stool. A glass filled with beer was already waiting for him. Tim took a mouthful of the beverage, before asking. "Thanks, Mike, how's the grandkid?"

Mike laughed a bit before answering. “Still being stupid. He’s out back if you want the details.”

“Nah, I’ll just get the cliff notes from you.” Tim replied before taking another mouthful of beer.

“He got a girl pregnant.” Mike said as he crossed his arms.

Tim shrugged, before pointing out. “We’ve both done that.”

Mike sneered as he added. “She is five years younger than him, and not even in middle school.”

Tim paused just as he was about to take another mouthful. Thought for a second, and then said. "Alright, that's something I haven't done." Then he took that mouthful and then added. "Course finding someone five years younger than me and still able to get pregnant will be an achievement in and of itself."

That caused Mike to laugh, and continue to laugh he did as Tim looked around the room again. Tony had at some point had a new drink brought to him, by one of the too-young severing staff. Not that had stopped Tim from going home with one, or two, of them at one point, in all the years of coming here. Dugan still couldn't place the man Tony was having drinks with, but the more he looked at him the more he felt he should.

Mike's sudden stop in his laughter, and asking someone besides "Can I get you something friend?" caused Tim to turn around. Dugan was surprised to see Erik Lensheer standing there in an even more surprising dry trench coat. A coat Tim immediately recognized because he had given it to him twenty years ago for Christmas.

Erik leaned against the bar and held up a twenty-dollar bill before saying. "German beer if you have it."

Mike chucked before saying. “Of course we have it. It’s all this bum will drink.” The barkeep gestures with his chin towards Tim, as he fills a glass with said beer.

Tim waved his hand and smiled as he said. "Each nation has its own specialty. Germans have beer. Irish have whiskey and here in America we make the best bourbon."

Mike dropped off the glass and took the bill, and then went to the cash register when Erik spoke again. "Another for a fellow connoisseur, and then keep the rest for yourself.” Mike nodded and then slowly moved further down the bar to one of the wait staff.

As Tim watched the younger old man need to take his time to just walk, he was glad that Peggy had gotten him into a test program. One that had in the end Enhanced him. He really worried how bad his body would be given how much abuse he had put into it.

Dugan looked back towards Tony, both he and his associate had noticed Erik. But both seemed to be waiting, for now. He turned around on his stool back to his own beer. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Erik take a drink from his own.

“First, you like shit.” Dugan said as he noticed the bruised and discoloring on the other man’s face and hands. “Second, you shouldn’t be here Erik.” Tim whispered into his beer. He was about to say more, but Erik spoke before he could.

“I know. But I need a favor, and I felt I owed it to you to answer an old question of yours.” Erik said as he absently looked at one of the TVs behind the bar.

Both men sipped absently at their beers, as staff and customers came close to them.

“What? You need me to sneak someone out? Because we both know that I won’t…” Tim began to say as he whispered into his beer.

"No." Erik interrupted but continued in a similar whisper. "I need you to deliver a letter for me. To a mutual friend. Our old friend McKenzie.”

Erik paused extra long between sentences as people came and went around them. But it gave Tim enough time to think about who they both knew that had McKenzie as their family name. After all, being born in Boston in a block made up purely of Irish, Tim knew a lot of McKenzies.

But it hit him, so Dugan asked, “Scuba man?” for confirmation.

Erik nodded before taking another drink.

Tim saw that he was halfway through his second glass and that Erik was nearing the end of his first. So he flagged down the nearest person behind the bar. It was Linace, Mike’s grandson. As he approached the man clapped his hands together in excitement. “Uncle Dumb Dumb, what can I get you?”

Tim noticed the boy's tension about his nickname but wasn't in the mood to correct him. So he just said. "I just got back from the sandbox and, son I want a cheerful atmosphere." Tim handed over his bank card before adding. "And so I am buying the next round." Linace nodded, before walking over and ringing a bell, and proceeded to start pouring another pair of drinks for Dugan and Lensheer.

Both Tim and Erik waited as many people came by in thanks, as the news spread along with the drinks. Even Tony and his still unknown friend did slapping Tim on the shoulder, before settling in on a table closer to the two older veterans.

Tim shook his head at them but didn't say anything. Before turning back to his drink, he didn't drink right away. Instead wondering why Erik had come to him about this favor. After all, the man he would need to contact didn't live in any of the Allied nations of the world and would more than likely allow the mutant access long enough to pass a message along.

That of course led to him wondering what 'old question' he had solved of his. The two men had known each other off and on for the better part of sixty years, with several meetings and gatherings during that time for Dugan to have posed questions to the man. Dum Dum wasn't just a nickname. He knew his place in the world wasn't very high. He was a soldier, clear and simple. Even with the serum running through his veins.

Seeing the other man taking a sip, Tim waited to ask. “Why don’t you talk to him yourself? It would be far easier than…”

"If I went to see him right now, I can't guarantee that I wouldn't do something that I would regret later," Erik said in a rough tone before Tim could finish. Dugan turned on his stool to face the man. He didn't ask he just waited. "I found the remains of a village. It had everything. Sables, grain storage, forges, looms you name I bet at one point it had it. In the basement of the only intact building I and my associates found a young man. Probably not even twenty years old. He was held in some kind of alien device, which keep him in a kind of stasis. He was the only survivor Tim. All of his people had been killed by McKenzie’s. Now I will admit that I don’t know when it happened, but it doesn’t matter. It happened.”

Erik had started out quiet and had gotten louder in the middle, but he was deathly soft at the end. Between rounds, the other man had taken off his trench coat, and during his rant, he had gestured animatedly. Enough that no one would have believed that the two men were not talking to each other, however more importantly during his gestures, his shirt sleeves had drifted and fallen to his elbows.

And as Mike came over to pour another glass from the tap, it happened. The barkeep saw the numbers '2.4.0.0.5' inked into Erik's left arm. Instead of pouring the glass the old man stopped and limped over, he pointed at Erik's arm before asking. "Did you serve?"

Erik and Tim looked where the barkeep pointed. Tim adjusted his hat, as the mutant looked away before saying. “Unofficially.”

Dugan looked towards Tony and the other man, who Tim was damned sure, was someone he also worked with. Neither seemed armed, but he noted that both had switched to sodas instead of continuing to drink what they had before. Dum Dum looked back to Mike, ready to defend Erik's presence.

However, Mike had reached under the bar and pulled out two half glasses, and then grabbed an old bottle with its worn and faded label. The one Tim had only ever seen once before. The first time he had walked into the Fallen Solider.

"This bottle was the only thing my father had managed to keep from the Old Country." Mike said, as he poured the old liquor into the two glasses, even from this distance Tim could smell the vintage liquor. As Mike re-corked the almost still almost half-filled bottle, he added. "He told me on his death bed, to continue to share it with those that were braver than he."

The barkeep then pushed one of the glasses towards Erik, before lifting the other. Once it was in the air Mike said, almost in tears. “L'Chaim.”

Erik raised his own and tapped his to the offered opposite. “L'Chaim!” The two men then drank and finished their large shots together.

Mike then limped over and rang the bell again, after yelling. “Next round on the house.”

Tim smiled, glad that he was getting the happy atmosphere that he asked for. Dugan used the cheers and thanks, as cover as he agreed. “All right, but I can’t guarantee any kind of timetable. McKenzie’s dad is sick, dying even. And his uncle is causing problems for a lot of people. If not for the stasis thing, it wouldn’t have shocked me if you tried to tie that to him too.”

Erik didn't respond, because he was trying to stomach through the shot he just had or because he was dealing with his own feelings of anger or sadness for their mutual friend's situation. Erik then cleared his throat and began to talk, this time no longer whispering but just casually chatting. "So to answer your old question, I will start by reminding you of a tale you have told me countless times. This one was when Cap and you guys had walked into a military camp and you and other Commandos had to fight a T-rex."

Tim smiled and clapped his hands together as he remembered that battle. "Oh god, that dinosaur was a pain. The Nazis had built a rig that they hadn’t yet put on the thing when we arrived, but it would have been a walking battle platform if they had. Rockets, guns, you name it this thing would have had it. Steve held it off with his shield, and we first cleared out the Krauts that were nearby. When enough of the buildings were damaged or on fire, they bugged out. And We were able to help Cap out, and poured on the last of our guns on the thing, but it was like it was bulletproof or something. So just as things were looking dire, Pinky and Tripline found a stash of Jerry Panzerfausts, and after about a dozen of those hitting it. Boom, plow blammo, it went down. I still don't know how Cap was able to hold the thing off that long all on his own, but he did."

Dugan took a gulp or two from his beer after saying all that. And as he put it down, he noticed that the bar had gone quiet during his recount of the battle. Everyone was looking at him after hearing him recall that story.

Erik smiled at Tim, just before he too had a mouthful of beer. Then he pulled out an envelope and after digging through the pictures held in it, handed a trio of them to him. Tim looked at them; the first was of a flock of small dinosaurs in a jungle, ones that he couldn't name if you held a red hot poker to him. Second was one of the long-necked thing that would tower over any giraffe, and the last was a pair of dead T-rexes but in the foreground was Erik dressed in his Magneto get-up.

“When did you take these?” Tim asked as he stared at the last one longer.

“Last week.” Erik said between sips of more beer.

Tim looked over at the nearby table where Tony and the other 'agent' were seated. Then back to Erik. Disbelief must have been on his face because. Erik smiled as he put his almost-finished beer on the bar, and then said. "I told you, I have an answer to an old question of yours. Where did Hitler find a dinosaur?" The white-haired man leaned in close and whispered. "I expect it's the last place you would have thought to look, but on the South Pole."

Dugan wiped the beer from his mustache, as he tried to rationalize what he heard. Unable to he muttered. “You must have bumped your head, no way that’s true.”

Erik nodded at the pictures in his hands, saying. “You’re holding the proof.”

Tim looked at the pictures again and then thought about his comrade, one that might be an ass, and might be arrogant, but rarely ever lied. And he nodded as he was willing to believe his brother-in-arms. "Why?"

Erik's face became serious, almost as much as when he talked about that survivor he found. "I wasn't the only one to find the place, and before those monkeys try and pillage the place, I want to leak it to you, so you can use the proper channels and see that the region is protected."

“And if the proper channels decide they want to pillage it?” Tim asked.

Erik crossed his arms before answering. "I'm hoping the uniqueness of the area and the intelligence of people in your group can see the scientific value of such a region." Erik reached over and downed the last of his beer, before grasping down and re-donned his trench coat. "But I think I have risked enough", reaching into a pocket of the coat had handed Tim a tube, inside it was several pages. The message Erik wanted him to pass along.

Erik reached it over to him holding it in front of his chest. Tim took it but placed his other hand on Erik's. He then leaned in close and whispered. "I need a favor." Dugan then let go and took the tube with him, picking back up his glass of beer. Tim then called out to Mike. "I think my fellow connoisseur forgot about his free drink, another round." He then tapped his near-empty glass with Erik's empty one.

Erik didn’t stand to leave. He instead looked Dugan in the eye. As Mike came over and took their two glasses and refilled them, before wandering off. Tim reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. He knew that all that was on it was a set of coordinates and the name of a fishing village in Nunavut Canada. Erik looked at what was written before refolding the paper and pocketing the paper.

“A favor for a favor? Eh, I recall you owe me for a certain rifle round that would have gone through your hat and then into your head that I stopped.” Erik said before taking a drink from his third beer.

“Look. If I could go to someone else I would, but you can do this in like two hours. Anyone else it would take months, if not years.” Tim said in a rush but soft tone. “And it’s not for me, it’s for him. And we both know we all owe him.”

“What…”

“They found it. It’s the wedge, the Super bomber.” Tim took a long draw off of his beer.

Erik joined him partway through and they both lowered their glasses around the same time, almost like both were saluting their fallen leader. Then he pulled the paper out again and looked at the words and numbers. He read them twice and then nodded.

He stepped away from the stool, his beer half finished. But then stopped, “Your number the same?”

"Yeah," Tim said not looking away from the glass in front of him.

He listened to the footsteps of a fellow soldier, the chatter and gossip were loud but he could still make out Tony and the other guy standing up. "Trip." Tim said firmly.

“Sir he has a warrant out…”

Dugan still didn’t look away from his glass, as he interrupted his future partner. “That man chewed up the same ground as me and your grandfather, so if not for me, then for him. Let. Him. Go.” Instead, he drank from it. A part of him was surprised that not only did the boy listen, but his friend also stayed his hand.

Tim then finished his glass of beer, before signaling to Liance that he would wants another. And then picked up Erik's half-empty glass and moved over to the table Tony and the other man had been sitting at, once seated he looked at the two men and said. "Let an old man tell you some war stories."

On and on into the night the three men drank. The other man introduced himself as Samuel Wilson, which allowed Tim to tie the face to an upcoming project that SHEILD and the Air Force were working on, an un-planed fighter unit or some such. It seemed silly to him, but then again he was a ninety-eight-year-old man with only a handful of grey hairs, so what was really silly?

It was getting close to midnight. Samuel had already left, as had much of the bar. But Tony and he still were there talking about the War. Then Tim's phone went off. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the flip phone.

“When are you gonna get a newer model Uncle Dum Dum? That thing looks as old as you are.” Tony asked.

"Har, har." Dugan said, as he opened it and read the message he had received. It was from a number he didn't recognize and it read, 'Its done. It will float into the bay by morning.' And another that read, 'it will still have a lot of ice. Let me know when the funeral is.' Tim smiled at the message, and then cleared his throat. He had always been a drinker, and the upgrades Peggy got him made it that much harder to drink himself to sleep. But he knew that he had more at home.

So he stood up, finished his fifth-tenth beer, and said. "Alright Trip, we need to be at HQ by oh-eight-thirty, time to head home."

Tony nodded and stood up. Leaving the water he had switched to unfinished. "Want me to walk you home?"

Tim shook his head. “No, I got a phone call I gotta make.”

Tony looked at him confused, before asking. “You sure, can’t it wait till morning?”

Tim shook his head again. “No. it’s waited sixty-four years I got to make it tonight.” He nodded towards the door, before adding. “You go on ahead.”

Both he and Tony walked to their coats by the door. Donned them, and stepped outside. Tony looked at him and gave his goodbyes before walking off.

Tim pulled out his phone again and called a number that he had in his contacts. They didn't answer the first time, so he called again. The second time a man answered. "Hello? Do you know what time it is?"

Tim took a breath before answering. "I do Trevor. Can you wake Peggy, it's important."

He heard a rustling and some muffled talking. Then a female voice came on. “Dugan?”

Tim smiled at the sound of that voice. "Hey, Peggy. Sorry to wake you, but I got some news."

He heard her take a deep breath. "Who died this time?"

“Nobody.” Tears were starting to form in his eyes, as he spoke. “They found him, Peggy. Steve is coming home.”

She gasped on the other end of the line and then began crying. Tim let her be, as she sniffled into the phone a couple times. "Thank you, Dugan, you are a true friend."

“I try ma’am.” He then heard the phone go quiet before it clicked off.

He then made his way home. The several hours in the bar, allowed the rain to pass, but the puddles and streams on the road were still there. And Tim never liked having wet boots, not after almost frying himself by stepping on the wire in that Hydra base.

He made it to his apartment building and climbed the three floors to his unit. It was late and almost everyone was sleeping. Although not everyone as he heard the moans coming out of the corner unit by the elevator when he stepped off onto his floor. He walked the hallway and pulled out his keys, but then stopped, as he noticed the thin wire he tied to his door was missing.

Tim put his keys into his other hand and reached for his revolver. It was small and simple, so it wouldn’t do too much, but it would buy him the time to see who or what was in his apartment. He unlocked the door with his left hand while his right pulled the weapon free.

“Put that away.” A familiar voice said from inside the living room.

Dugan holstered the gun, as he complained. “Director Fury, I thought we wore over this sneaking around nonsense?”

A bald black man wearing an eye patch leaned into the light and said. “That was before you had several nightcaps with a known and wanted fugitive.”

“He’s a damn war hero and you know it.” Tim snapped back at him.

The director leaned back into the chair before countering. "We've all done our own soldiering, but both you nor I, we didn't start killing people just because of a feeling."

“Oh, is that why you slipped those folders to Mystique those two times?” Tim asked snarky. The silence gave him the chance to close his door. And kick off his boots.

To the sound of his boss popping open a bottle of scotch, Tim took his coat off. He retrieved the message Erik had given him before laying the coat on top of a wooden gun case. Fury poured into two glasses as Tim moved to the seat opposite of him.

“What did he want?” Fury asked as he passed over one of the glasses.

Tim didn’t sniff the alcohol, if his boss had wanted him dead he knew the veteran spy wouldn’t waste good booze to do it. So he took a sip before saying. “Wants me to send a missive to the Submariner.”

Fury took a taste of his own glass before asking. “Why you? I thought that the prince of Atlantis was a mutant like him, weren’t they old war buddies. He’s not switching sides and aiding Namor’s Uncle is he?”

‘Doubt it.’ Tim thought before shaking his head. “He found something in his running away from US forces.”

“What did he find?” Fury asked in a hurry.

Tim waved his hand, before explaining. “I’ll get to that. But first I want talk about what it was that made him write this missive in the first place… You see he found a settlement there, in there he found a survivor, or survivors, from a war that Atlantis started. A war in that the fish people killed everyone, or at least tried to.”

Fury exhaled a deep breath, before taking another sip, before taking another breath. “How many? How are they alive?”

Tim waved his hand before taking a sip of his own. He needed time to formulate his lie, but eventually, he said. "He didn't give a lot of detail but did say 'they' were under his protection. I'm guessing maybe a dozen, maybe less." Dugan took another sip before he added. "He did mention the place was old. That it was likely not the Prince's dad who started this war, when it happened. And that he wasn't sure how long ago this war took place."

Fury began to ask, “Then…”

"It doesn't matter to Erik, they committed genocide. Just like the Nazis, who killed the Jews, and as he sees it, the world is trying to do to the same to the mutants." Tim stated before his boss could ask his question.

The Director leaned back into the shadows, but Tim heard the man nod in understanding. Fury took another sip, before asking. “What did he discover?”

Tim wasn't ready to repeat what he understood, so he finished his own glass, before saying. "He found a special region, technically in Antarctica. Specifically, he says that the southwestern peninsula is a tropical jungle."

Fury leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”

Tim smirked as he started by saying. "Well, you ever wanted to pet a dinosaur?"

¹ Here concludes the 'A Mage in Marvel', and thank you for reading. I had hoped that book two, 'A Mage in the Savage Lands' would be done by now, but it unfortunately grew more than i could write in a week. I still have 9+ chapters to write, before i can even start editing. So be on the look out for it in Sep at the earliest.