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Agent Carter S03E09 Match 17937 Jack Thompson (Marvel) vs. Chameleon (Marvel)


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Episode 9: It’s a Sin to Tell a Lie

August 6th, 1946.  Los Angeles, California.  Waverly Memorial Hospital

Jack Thompson sat in bed looking through the files that Samberly had delivered to him.  Police reports on the attacks in New York.  The SSR case files on the incident at the Met Hospital.  There had to be a connection.  A man who looks like Sousa shows up and shoots him to get his hands on Carter’s file.  Then Sousa shows up at Auerbach just as all the other agents are called out to assist at the hospital?  Jack Thompson did not believe in coincidences.  Especially when they surrounded Peggy Carter. 

He grunted as he adjusted his pillow, and some files and newspapers slid off the bed the floor.  Cursing under his breath, Jack reached down and picked up the newspaper.  He saw the picture on the front page and froze.  It was a picture of Joseph Manfredi with his father.  The caption read, “Joseph Manfredi and suspected mobster Silvio Manfredi refusing to comment on recent slayings on August 3rd.”  Jack quickly consulted the files.  He found an edition of the LA Times.  It’s front page was a picture of the sheriff having a press conference to give their answers for the Arcade incident.  In the corner of the picture, just within view of the cameras, was Joseph Manfredi, looking despondent at the passing of Whitney Frost.  Jack checked the date of the picture.  August 3rd.  Either Joseph Manfredi was able to be in two places at once, or…

“Son of a bitch,” Jack breathed.  Then he threw the covers off him and scrambled to the chair where his clothes were set. 

Manhattan, New York City.  The mansion of Silvio Manfredi. 

Count Nefaria sat in Silvio’s office, talking into the phone on his desk.  “The situation here is developing nicely.  I believe it’s time for you to return to New York.”  Dmitri’s impression of Joseph Manfredi’s voice sounded low in response.  “I wouldn’t have a problem with that, boss.  I’ve been getting tired of playing nursemaid to these clowns.”  Nefaria smiled.  “You really have captured young Joseph’s voice perfectly.  Have all of his men been accounted for?” 

“Yeah, there all here at the restaurant just like I asked ‘em, so’s Nonna.  What do you want to do with her?  Same as the rest?”  Nefaria shrugged.  “It’s a shame, but yes.  No witnesses.  Then take the private plane back to New York.  Understood?” 

“Gotcha, count.  See you in a few days.” 

“Good.  See you then, Mr. Manfredi.”  Nefaria chuckled and hung up the phone.  Then turned in his seat to see Joseph Manfredi leaning in the doorway.  The young gangster smirked at the count.  “Hey, Nefaria?  Are you talkin’ to me?”  Nefaria cleared his throat and rose from his seat.  “Forgive me, Joseph, but I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Oh, I think you do, count,” Joseph said dangerously.  “I heard you saying something about my voice, and that ‘Mr. Manfredi’ stuff.  You were talking to Dmitri, weren’t you?”  Nefaria tightened his grip on his cane, keeping his voice calm.  “Joseph, my boy.  I understand you have a lot on your mind.  Your father’s troubles, the tragedy with Miss Frost.  You are jumping at shadows.”  Joseph drew closer to Nefaria, not breaking eye contact.  “You were setting up a hit!  Who do you think you are giving out orders to that nut?  He works for my pop, not you!” 

“Your father,” Nefaria said matter-of-factly.  “Only sent Dmitri to take your place under my suggestion.  As you can tell with your father’s issues with these vigilantes, Silvio is not the man he was.  He requires a guiding hand to ensure the continued prosperity of the Maggia.”  Joseph snorted.  “Well, it ain’t going to be you.  You’re two gorillas got trounced by Carter and those other freaks.  And when my pop hears your making moves on your own with Dmitri…” 

“Have a care, boy!” Nefaria snapped.  He paused, and took a breath to steady himself.  “I only wish to advise your father.  And I am willing to advise you, as well.  You have a chance to regain a place of honor in the Maggia.  It would be foolish to risk that by jumping to conclusions.”  Joseph stared unblinking at the count, then smirked and turned to the door.  “You don’t scare me, count.  You are done.  As soon as I let pop know.” 

The front door of the house slammed shut.  Nefaria watched through the window as Joseph got in his car and drove off down the street.  Hammerhead and Kangaroo stepped behind Nefaria as he continued to gaze forward.  “Young Joseph has become tiresome.  Follow him.  Make sure he doesn’t reach his father.” 

Los Angeles, California.  Polizzi’s. 

Jack Thompson pulled up to curb outside of the restaurant.  He checked his loaded pistol then replaced it in his holster.  He could feel the stiches in his chest tighten under the strain.  He breathed deep to calm his nerves.  And in the silence, he heard the sounds of multiple gunshots from inside Polizzi’s.  Jack jumped out of the car and ran to the door of the restaurant.  He grabbed the handle and slowly pushed open the door. 

The dining room of the restaurant was the site of a massacre.  Five Manfredi family enforcers were dead, slumped over on tables and laid out on the floor.  Each one had a bullet hole in their head.  On the far end of the dining room, Jack could see a man that looked like Joseph Manfredi with gun drawn.  He had his back to Jack and was pointing his gun at Nonna Manfredi who was kneeling on the ground, begging for her life.  “Giuseppe!  Giuseppe, per favore!  Sei un bravo ragazzo!  Non farlo per favore!” 

“Calmati,” the man said with barely any emotion.  “Fai la pace con Dio.  Questo e il tuo momento.” 

“SSR!” Jack shouted.  “Put down your weapon!”  Dmitri turned to see Jack and Nonna scrambled away, screaming in fear.  Dmitri spun back and took aim at Nonna, only for Jack to fire a warning shot.  Dmitri ducked behind a table and returned fire.  Jack fired again, aiming for his opponents head.  The bullet struck Dmitri in the cheek, sending him flying backward.  Jack rose from his cover and slowly walked toward his opponent.  He was lying still on the ground.  Jack gave a soft kick to the body, causing the head to turn the other way and showing Jack Joseph Manfredi’s face.  There was hole and scarring where Jack’s bullet had hit.  But there was no blood, no bone.  Just a white, ceramic-like material. 

“What the hell are you?” Jack breathed.  ‘Joseph’s’ eyes opened and kicked the legs out from under Jack.  Jack groaned as he looked at Dmitri discarded his ruined mask.  “Me?” he said in a perfect imitation of Jack.  “I’m Agent Jack Thompson of the Strategic Scientific Reserve.” 

OK:

Can Jack capture the Chameleon?  Or can Chameleon kill or elude Jack? 

Stay Tuned and Find Out! 

Game On! 

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This will be interesting.

If Chameleon wanted, he would be able to escape fairly easily. Yet I think he would think that a disabled man would be easy pickings in a fight.

And that will be his undoing.

Jack has faced worse people and the Chameleon holds losses against the likes of MJ and Aunt May. My money's on Jack.

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On 1/17/2022 at 5:42 PM, patrickthekid said:

This will be interesting.

If Chameleon wanted, he would be able to escape fairly easily. Yet I think he would think that a disabled man would be easy pickings in a fight.

And that will be his undoing.

Jack has faced worse people and the Chameleon holds losses against the likes of MJ and Aunt May. My money's on Jack.

I agree that all this is true, but I'm still going with Chameleon.

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Match Final Results

Member Ratings:
5.00 - patrickthekid
4.50 - JohnnyChany

FPA Calculation:
2 Total Votes cast
9.50 Total Combined Score
9.50 / 2 = 4.75 Final Rating on the match

MATCH SCORE
Jack Thompson (Marvel): 1
Chameleon (Marvel): 1

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AND NOW THE CONCLUSION

August 6th, 1946.  Los Angeles, California.  Polizzi’s. 

Dmitri’s punch sent Jack clattering into a table where the some fallen Manfredi’s still sat.  Jack grabbed the tablecloth and hurled it at Dmitri.  Dmitri was able to knock it aside, but it blurred his vision for just enough time for Jack deliver a punch to the gut.   He threw another punch to Dmitri’s head, and instantly shouted in pain as his hand made contact with the helmet.  Dmitri grabbed him by the neck of his coat, and started delivering repeated kidney punches.  Jack could feel the stiches giving way.  “Very foolish, agent,” Dmitri said, still imitating Jack.  “You know you aren’t fully healed.  Why don’t you lie down?”  With a quick judo throw, Jack was sent sprawling to the ground. 

Dmitri picked up a knife off the floor and moved in on the downed agent, his gun just a few feet away from his grip.  “I’m ashamed that I allowed myself to be careless with you when we first met, agent,” Dmitri went on, menacing him with the knife.  Jack continuing stretching across the floor to reach for the gun.   “I shall not repeat that mistake.  This time, I will make certain you are dead.” 

“Man,” Jack groaned.  “I never realized…”  Dmitri paused, looming over Jack.  “Realized what, agent?”  Jack gave a defiant look.  “How annoying my voice sounds.”  Jack finally grabbed the gun.  He rolled to his back, aimed and fired.  The impact sent Dmitri staggering backward, clutching his shoulder.  The knife clattered to the ground.  Hate burned in the eyes behind the mask as Jack rose to his feet.  “Now, you are going to tell me what I want to know.  Who are you working for?  Why do they want the Arena Club key?” 

“You have no idea what is coming for all of you, agent,” Dmitri hissed.  With his free hand, he threw a chair at Jack, who raised up his hands to his face to shield himself.   Dmitri grabbed a suit coat from one of the dead and tore out of the restaurant.  Jack chased after him, but when he ran out the door, he could see groups of tourists and civilians making their way on the sidewalk.  Dmitri had vanished. 

“Damn it!” Jack fumed.  He heard the door of Polizzi’s open, and turned to see Nonna Manfredi walk out.  Her face still glistened with tears.  Jack holstered his gun, and held his hands out to Nonna.  “Miss Manfredi, look. I, um.  I know you don’t care for the cops but if there’s anything you can tell me about…”  Nonna took Jack’s hand and looked into his eyes.  “Please,” she said.  “Can… you… find… my… Giuseppe?  Help… my boy?”  Jack was caught off guard, but nodded.  “You have my word.  I’ll figure what’s going on.”  Nonna took a deep breath then nodded.  “Si.”

New York City, New York.  The mansion of Howard Stark.  

Angie watched as Jarvis sifted through the wreckage that remained after the battle.  A wardrobe had been moved in front of the broken window, and shattered furniture covered the floor.  She gave a weak smile as Jarvis deposited the remains of a Ming vase into a garbage can.  “Gotta admit, my tap dancing practice in the kitchen didn’t make as big mess as this.”  Jarvis raised an eyebrow at Angie, then sighed.  “Very perceptive, Miss Martinelli.  You make less a disturbance than a band of murderous assassins.”  Angie cleared her throat and walked over to Peggy, sitting in the last functional chair in the house.  “You doing alright, English?”  Peggy didn’t answer, continuing to stare at the hole in the wall that led to the kitchen.  Angie patted her on the shoulder.  “Hey, English.  Peggy.”  Peggy snapped out of her train of thought and shook her head.  “I’m sorry, Angie.  I was just… lost in thought.”  Angie sat down on an end table next to Peggy.  “I shouldn’t have let you get involved in this business,” Peggy went on.  “It’s getting much too dangerous.” 

“Don’t start that again,” said Angie, waving it off.  “I’ve had my share of danger.  One time my cousin Ralphie dared to jump from the roof of apartment to the roof of the one next door.  I managed to make it with a running start.”  Peggy rolled her eyes and smiled at Angie.  “And what about Cousin Ralphie?”  Angie shrugged.  “Eh, he missed.  Did a swan dive into the dumpster.  I had to take out the garbage even after he got out of traction.”  Peggy chuckled, and Angie grinned.  “Glad to see you’re still among the living.”  Peggy exhaled and leaned back in her chair.  “This whole affair is just getting more and more complicated.” 

“You’ll figure it out, English,” said Angie.  “I’ve seen what you can do.  You can help Diana and the doc.” 

“It’s not just that, Anige,” said Peggy.  “I can find a way to keep these people safe.  But there’s something more.  Something I can’t explain.  At the theater, during the fight with Miss Adams?  She shot at me from point blank range.  And she didn’t hit me.” 

“Well, you’ve always been pretty lucky, English,” said Angie. 

“It wasn’t luck.  She couldn’t have missed, not with her training.  And yet, the bullet didn’t even strike the ground.  It ricocheted off something that wasn’t even there.”  Angie looked uneasy.  “Okay, that’s pretty strange.” 

“And again, during the fight here.  That giant man should have crushed me, but something stopped him in mid-leap.  Perhaps there’s another person that was part of the same program as Doctor Benton and Miss Adams?  Someone with the power of invisibility?”  Angie gave a cheeky grin.  “Or your guardian angel?” 

Peggy was about to reply when the phone rang.  Jarvis put down his dustpan and picked up the phone.  “Howard Stark’s residence.  Yes, Miss Carter is here, but she is indisposed at the moment.  Shall I take a message?  Sir, I must ask you to calm yourself.” 

“Who is it, Mr. Jarvis?” Peggy asked.  “A gentlemen who seems determined to speak with you.  A matter of great urgency.  He’s getting rather rude.  Shall I hang up?”  Peggy rose, quickly walked over to Jarvis, and took the phone from him.  “Don’t worry, Mr. Jarvis.  I will see to this.”  Jarvis shrugged and returned to this work.  Peggy lifted the phone to her face.  “This is Miss Carter.  Who is this?” 

“Hello, Peggy.  It’s so good to hear your voice.”  Peggy’s face went pale.  She instantly recognized the voice on the other end of the line.  “Fred?  Fred, is that you?” 

“Yes, Peggy, it’s me.  And I need your help.” 

Next Time: Why Don’t You Do Right? 

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