Malice in his eyes and voice, Steve couldn’t know that he came across more and more like the handlers James might have once known but shouldn’t recall. “You want me to Hail—“ He couldn’t even say it. It was like poison on his tongue. Still, he’d been through worse. He had to keep reminding himself of that. He needed to get out there, into the world. He had to see it for himself. And if he had to salute? So be it. He lied to his own government too many times to count. Lying to an enemy one wouldn’t be a problem.

Steve took a deep breath.

“Yeah. I know the damned salute. I need some clothes, James. Sooner rather than later.” Escape might not be a problem now, but it might also be a relative term if the whole world had gone mad.