His eyes open automatically, the small mechanical clock faintly glowing on his nightstand reads 0400 hours exactly. It is a habit firmly ingrained in him from his many decades-long experiences in the field. The room is still dark and no light is filtering through the cheap linen curtains covering the two windows in this place. Logan sits up and pulls the wool blanket off of him. Rubbing his eyes, he stands up off the bed, it is still like waking up from a dream. Even though it's been over a month since he left the school, yet it feels like a whole lifetime ago, like he's gone back in time again. All sorts of things he's gotten used to over the past several months are now absent.
On days he is not on a mission, Marie would come to find him exercising a few hours from now and after training together they would go get breakfast in the school cafeteria. On his first morning away from the school he almost panicked when Marie did not show up for her daily training. It was just a split second lapse in awareness, he’d caught himself quickly. But it does show how much softer he has gotten since meeting her. Now that is all behind him, he can feel himself settle in, back into that calm void he has operated in for what feels like an eternity.
Walking into the kitchen of the small house, Logan takes a carton of orange juice out of the almost barren mini-fridge and gulps it all down. Today is the start of a very important mission, a mission he planned out shortly after he met Irene. He needs to establish an operations history here in Colombia to divert the attention away from Xavier’s school, away from Marie. Much of the groundwork had already been done, thanks to Morph. There have been sightings of the Wolverine all over South America for well over a month. Unfortunately, Morph is not as careful as he is, and all that activities attracted some attention from a few old acquaintances. And thanks to Morph’s lackluster combat performance, there is now a rumor that the Wolverine is losing his touch.
Today he will personally deal with a particularly dangerous acquaintance. Logan aims to settle a very old grudge as well as ending any rumors regarding his competence or lack thereof all at once. His eye glances toward an open and worn file folder on the kitchen counter. A black and white photo of a gaunt man with long, light colored hair in an old Russian army uniform lays at the very top. He hasn’t seen this man since the early sixties, back when he still did some government work, when the world looked much simpler to him than it does today. And if he really thought about it, his animosity towards this man stems more from his previous lives than the few encounters they’ve had in this one.
Regardless he needs to make an example of someone, so why not Arkady, who as of recently seems determined to make himself a thorn in Logan’s side. He picks up and glances through his files one last time. Not much has changed from before except Arkady was still frozen the first time around, now he works as a soldier for hire. With a string of successful hits against very high-value targets. Of all the people following his breadcrumbs, there really is no one better to make an example of. His digital phone rings, a text from Morph displays on the LCD. Logan frowns, Morph is signaling earlier than planned, which can only mean that he failed to lure Arkady to the ambush site.
Logan sighs and retrieves his ready pack. It always bugs him when a well-laid plan goes off track, but there is a degree of variation in every plan and in this particular case it's not as if he doesn't enjoy a good hunt. Luckily there is already a GSG ops team in the area, it wouldn't be too much trouble to get himself attached to that team. With a few keystrokes on the phone, he sends in the request. He then drops the key on the nightstand and activates his earpiece. Once he takes the trash with him, the house will be as empty as when he first arrived.
Stepping outside the rundown one two-story brick house, Logan finds the humidity here is still oppressive as ever, even though the temperature is fairly moderate. He's been to Colombia many times before, and during all seasons, the temperature rarely varied and the humidity is even more constant. The city perhaps changed even less than the weather if it is even possible, even in this day and age much of the city streets are still unpaved save for the major thoroughfares and the skyline is as empty as he remembers.
His phone beeps again, Morph is getting nervous, Arkady’s men must be closing in on him. Logan steps into his beat-up humvee and signals his own men to get ready. Once he secures Morph then the chase will be on. Sending Morph a quick reply he takes the humvee towards the center of the city just off of Hwy 62. He scouted out this location well in advance, the transmitter tower here is one of the tallest points in the entire city, it would make for an excellent crow’s nest.
Knowing Morph as he does, Logan knows that he will be gunning down this highway in his attempt to escape. Parking at the nearby gas station, Logan removes a large pack from the trunk and carries it up to tower. It is rather liberating without having to consider how each of his action might impact Marie’s situation. Today, after almost a year of tiptoeing around he can finally cut loose.
Scanning horizon from near the top he spots three cars speeding through the city towards him. The city is dense and grid-like, a more skilled driver could easily lose the pursuers in the unpaved back streets of the city. Unfortunately as good as Morph is he relies far too much on his powers. Once out of his comfort zone Morph tends to be predictable. If only he would be a bit more like Mystique, Logan muses with a smile. Mystique does bring her own share of issues, however, and like now predictability has its uses.
The speeding vehicles are still three miles out when Logan finishes strapping himself onto one of the tower’s steel beams. Unwrapping his rifle he sights the incoming vehicles through the scope. He can see sporadic gunfire as the cars swerve through the still empty streets. No one is being subtle today, considering that the chase must have been going on for some time and Logan still has yet to hear any sirens, someone must have made a big pay off. Adjusting his sights, he quickly sizes up the vehicles. Given how the two pursuing vehicles are handling, he can easily identify them as armored sedans but of unknown make. While Morph for some reason chose a bright green Chevy compact, something he would never even consider driving.
Mentally reminding himself to have a chat with Morph after this, Logan releases a breath and pulls the trigger. The rifle, an old PTRS-41 he bought years ago at a Russian arms bazaar, kicks back like a mule, slamming hard into his shoulder, shaking the entire tower with the force of its recoil. The armor piercing incendiary round impacts the first sedan head-on, shattering the front windshield and the driver's torso disappear into a shower of sparks and blood. The interior of the car soon ignites and the cabin is quickly filling with black smoke. A smoking casing pops out after he pulls the bolt back, expertly chambering another round he follows up quickly with another shot. Placing the round into the second vehicle with similar deadly effect.
Both burning, the vehicles swerve wildly on the road leaving a trail of fumes behind them before careening off the road and into the nearby buildings. The houses here are made from brick and wood and will catch fire easily. Logan is counting on the blaze to distract the authority so he can make his escape. Pulling out his revolver he puts a round into the Chevy's engine before cutting himself loose and jumping off the tower. He arrives at his humvee just in time to see Morph car stall down the road, white smoke nearly engulfing the entire car.
He sees the silhouette of himself stumble out of the car, before Morph appears through the smoke, coughing, “What the fuck man?! What the fuck!”
“Get in!” Logan yells at him, he has a bit of distance to cover still before he can meet up with the assault team. He would like to arrive at the rendezvous point before he gets wind of what happened here.
Morph stands there mouth agape, screaming back at Logan, “Fuck! You shot at me!”
“If I did, ya be dead.” Morph can be good at his job, at least enough for Logan to tolerate these rather frequent breakdowns. But he is on a tight schedule and Logan does not want any more deviations from his plans. Sending Morph a hard glare he yells again through the increasing ambient noise, “Now, get yer sorry ass in here! ”
Withering under Logan’s intense gaze Morph pulls himself into the passenger side of the humvee. The young man looks quite the sight, his well-tailored suit torn, ripped, and splattered with blood. He lowers his gaze apologetic, “Shit… I know I messed up...”
Just then an explosion rips through the street behind them, the fires must have caught a gas line. Morph twist himself around to look through the rear windshield while Logan glances at the spectacle briefly in the rearview mirror. Turning back around Morph wrings his hands together, “It is really burning back there...”
“Yeah, the incendiary rounds are working well,” Logan remarks casually, with the commotion and confusion he just caused, it is quite possible he will reach Arkady before the news of exactly what happened here will reach him. The element of surprise is always nice to have.
“Wait…” Shock, and fear war on Morph’s face, he looks back and forth between the raging flames and Logan, before coming to a realization, “You set those houses on fire. On purpose.”
“Arkady’s got the local government on the take,” Logan explained while sending out a prepared message from his phone. “We need the authorities busy while we deal with him.”
“But all those people...” Morph looks genuinely disturbed at the turn of events. Logan is not too surprised, it’s been less than a year since the young man first started working for him. During that time they’ve more or less been operationally stagnate.
“Look, kid, I know yer new.” Logan tosses his phone into a cup holder and glances at Morph from the side of his eye. He really doesn't need people that aren’t committed to the mission, not with where everything is heading. This kind of work requires dedication and commitment. This is something that has to be voluntary, everyone has a choice, “So if ya ain't got the stomach for this kind of work, ya better let me know right now.”
The young man takes a deep breath and stills his shaking hands, “No, no, I’m good, I can do this.”
His response doesn’t inspire much confidence but Logan lets the matter drop. Aside from Mystique there are few other mutants with similar powers and working with any of them comes with their own baggage. He takes one last glance at the ominous glow in the rearview mirror. The eerie light stirring in him a twinge of guilt, and it fades away slower than he would have liked. The last several months must have affected him more than he expects. He pushes the stray thoughts away, the operation once again has to come first.
He made the hour-long drive in less than half the time, even factoring dropping Morph off at a safe house. Swerving through the narrow two-lane highway flanked by tropical plants and the occasional farm, Logan speeds past the city limit sign completely ignoring the road signs telling him to slow down. As he passes the Hospital at the edge of the town, a pickup pulls on to the road forming up behind him. From the rearview mirror he glimpse a familiar figure, just as his comms crackle to life. “Boss, you picked up a few strays again. Permission to engage?”
“No, it’s fine.” It’s been well over a decade since Logan has last seen her. She was just a teenage girl then with dreams of a revolution. Their business should have been settled in Tierra Verde, and Logan is perhaps a bit curious as to why she is seeking him out now. “First group can go ahead, and make sure everyone else is ready.”
Pulling a small flashlight from his belt, he gives her the signal, in a short sequence of flashes. It is a code they used during the rebellion, and just as he expected she replies quickly and flawlessly. La Bandera is well respected here in South America. That could both be a blessing and a curse, giving his current plans. Either way, Logan is at least interested in hearing her out.
He turns off the main road onto a dirt path, soon the jungle plants give way to a muddy and rocky beach. It is just a few minutes before he reaches the staging point, a small seaside restaurant, with a worn sign that reads ‘Palma Bahia’. His men, a dozen in all, are already by their vehicles, two large black SUVs, looking completely menacing and totally out of place. The popular local joint is devoid of other patrons. Like always the locals are keenly aware of men like him, after years of inter-cartel fighting those that aren’t, are more than likely already in their graves.
The trailing pickup drives up shortly after and stops next to them, a petite woman in a gaudy red, white, and blue costume leans out the window with a smile on her face. Before she can say anything Logan holds up his hand, “Got something to take care of first.”
She frowns, her expression souring quickly. “But, it is very important I speak with you.”
Several men in black BDUs step between them. The leader shows Logan a map on his tablet. Two blinking dots are rapidly approaching his position. “Drones are in position and the targets are inbound boss. I need a go, no go.”
“Later,” Logan dismisses the woman, his tone offers no room for argument. Turning to the squad leader he nods, “Do it.”
On his order, one of his men rolls a black belt across the road, the other ten drop to one knee and ready their weapons. Above them four streaks of smoke can be seen in the dawning light, disappearing southwards. Less than a minute later a series of explosions are heard. Off in the distance, Logan hears the revving of engines and the squeal of tires.
“Incoming, two vehicles” The company commander raise his hand, then clenches his fist. “Now.”
In a series of popping sounds, the road spike spring from their casing just as a large brand new Cadillac reaches them. Logan’s men shield themselves from the splash of debris as the tires burst in succession. The SUV skids to a stop blocking the narrow road. The Second SUV couldn’t react in time and hits the spikes as well slamming hard in into the leading SUV. The two crumpled SUVS skid several more feet, digging deep gashes into the ground before stopping.
His men rise as one and proceed to rake the two cars with deafening automatic weapons fire as they walk along the wreck. The armor piercing rounds Logan requisitioned easily cuts through the lightly armored vehicles. He realized almost immediately that Arkady is not in either of the two cars. Tapping his comms he checks with the drone operator, “Omega Red is not at the ambush point, do you have eyes on him?”
“Yes, sir. At the airport, he just cleared the wreck of the plane, he is preparing a speedboat on the beach.” the voice in his ear confirms. Logan fights off a sense of disappointment, but he knew it couldn't be this easy to get rid of Arkady. He walks up to the two wrecks in time to see his men drag out six bloody bodies.
“Omega Red wasn’t in the SUVs, sir,” the Commander reports with a bit of apprehension soon as he notices Logan.
“No,” He nods to the man and looks over the bullet-ridden bodies, one of them had a suitcase handcuffed to his wrist. “Who’d we hit?”
“A uhhh.” The soldier scrolls through a list of names and matching photographs in his tablet for a few moments before answering, “A Dr. Zander Rice and his aides, sir. He is the new head of research at Transigen.”
“Dr. Rice? And Transigen huh?” Logan suppresses a grimace at the name. Dr. Rice is a familiar figure in his past. One of the many scientists of the Weapon Plus program, and one of the few he had the pleasure of killing personally. Of course this time he never met the man, and this body here is far too young and with an only a passing resemblance to the Dr. Rice, he once knew.
The soldier speaks again taking his silence as an unspoken question, “They’re GMO Research Company, mostly involved in enhancing crops.”
“Are they openly traded?” A female voice in his ear cuts into this thoughts. Birdy must be listening in from Operations. Logan smirks and repeats her question, he has a pretty good idea what she is up to.
“Yes, sir.” The soldier confirms quickly. Logan picks up the sound of sirens before the young man finishes speaking.
“Grab what we need and send a copy of this report to Operations. Company’s comin'.” Logan hops onto the back of Bandera’s truck and bangs on the roof. The truck speed off away from the scene, GSG has enough contacts in the government to smooth things over, despite his orders for a Drone strike on a military airport. Especially if Birdy is doing what he thinks she is.
Just then Birdy's voice crackles over the comms again, “You don’t mind if I use some of the OPTAR funds on a few quick trades do you?”
Logan grins, Birdy has proven more than useful since he dragged the half-dead body from that FOH compound all those years ago. “Would that cover my incidental expenses?”
“That and SO much more,” Her voice is practically gushing. Logan runs a rather egalitarian operation, any profit made on his mission is split evenly among his core team. This mission was never about money but it is now looking to turn an unexpectedly large profit.
Arkady still weighs heavy on Logan’s mind. The objectives of the mission have been met, no one is going to question his lethality after today. Still, he would like to have dealt with Arkady, having him roaming around is another variable that could disrupt his plans. There is still a chance after he’s heard Bandera out. There is really only one place Arkady could run to. With that thought Logan finds himself entering the grounds of a rather stately mansion.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you to cschoolgirl for the wonderful beta work.
Chapter End Notes:
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