It is dusk when Logan follows the woman towards the front entrance of the mansion. While the estate that the mansion sat on was impressive, encompassing an area larger even than Xavier's school; the mansion itself is something else altogether. Everything is handcrafted, complete with marble floors and a gilded roof. “Nice place ya got here. When did ya move to Colombia?”
“I didn’t.” She places a loving hand on a sculpture nearby, but her eyes show a different emotion, “This is my husband’s vacation home.”
“Married?” That caught Logan by surprise, the Bandera he knew was a fierce free spirit, he never thought she would ever settle down. There really isn’t much he could say, so he settles on something neutral, “That’s good”
“Not at all, he is a pig.” She has been leading him through the maze-like rooms of the mansion for some time, and finally she stops at what appears to be a study and turns to face him. “It was supposed to be for the good of the country.”
Logan has a good idea now whom she married, well at least what family she married into. Even after President Felix Guillermo Caridad was killed, his family still has powerful supporters behind them. A surprisingly practical choice for the idealistic young woman that she once was. She probably married in the hopes of avoiding a civil war, to spare her country from more bloodshed. It was the exact opposite of what he advised her to do when they last parted. Logan saw then that the rot ran too deep in Tierra Verde, nothing short of starting from scratch could change that. He hates being so cynical sometimes, and he hates being right about it even more. The nation is still rife with corruption and poverty, despite all that blood so very little has changed.
He watches her as she strolls to a cabinet and pours herself a glass of wine. She takes a deep gulp before sighing, “A lot of good that whole arrangement did.”
Logan is glad that she seems to see the light. Honestly, he expected a much more complex problem given how desperate Bandera sounded. A number of people could have done what she is implying, it doesn’t have to be him. Perhaps she just didn’t want anything traced back to her. “Ya want me to off the old fucker?”
“It is wonderful to see you haven’t changed,” her laughter rings hollow in the dim room. “No, I can have him killed anytime. If only it was that simple.”
“Wine? No, you wouldn’t drink wine.” She holds a glass towards him then shakes her head. She points a gloved finger towards a bust of Bolivar resting on a small oak table before walking towards another room. “Whiskey then? Please help yourself.”
Logan lifts the head slightly and pulls open the chest to reveal a bottle of whiskey and turning around finding Bandera stepping back into the room with a briefcase and unmasked. Many people have seen La Bandera in the flesh, and even more have seen the wealthy socialite standing before him. No one, however, has made that connection yet. This should have been a significant moment. Whatever she is asking for it is serious. But then so is the bottle in his hands. “Dalmore 62, there only 12 bottles. Ever.”
She gives him an indulgent smile, “Consider it a down payment.”
Logan sets the bottle down, he enjoys a good whiskey but he sure as hell is not going to drink whiskey at fifteen thousand dollars a shot before he knows what he is getting into. “Ya haven’t said what the job is.”
She walks straight up to him and lays a series of photographs down on the table, the pictures are of various costume people, all dead. “Someone is killing my team one by one. I’m next.”
Logan looks through several photographs, all of them died by a stab wound. Systematically killing of top government agents, can only mean very few things. Most likely whoever is behind this is looking to destabilize the nation. “Ya think it’s political.”
“Of course,” she answers without any hesitation. This problem must have been troubling her for some time.
Logan is not sure if this is a problem that he needs to personally deal with, after all, it is just at best a few guys with a few blades. “Okay, so the killers got a thing for blades, and is obviously pretty decent with them- ”
“There is more, they all got these pictures before they died.” She puts down another photograph, with herself in it, a wound in her chest lying in a pool of her own blood. He recognizes the pattern of the carpet. It matches this very room.
“Shit…” He picks up the photograph, time travel is obviously possible he is a living testament to it. But the method he is familiar with couldn’t send anything physical back. “Photoshop?”
“No, I had it checked, their deaths match the photos exactly.” Logan detects a tiny tremble in her arm when she picks up her wineglass again. These kinds of psychological tactics can be very effective when well coordinated.
Logan himself is unimpressed, he’s seen a lot of weird shit in his lifetime. Even if this is all true, it still would be far from the weirdest experience in his life. “Could have posed the body afterward.”
“Logan,” the fear in her is evident, she has already given up the strong facade she has maintained since they met. If the rest her team met the assassin this way, it is no wondered that all died. She looks at him pleadingly, “Everyone else is dead, no matter how well guarded. Please, I am running out of options.”
He understands her situation. The uncertainties in facing the unknown, but Marie’s needs have to come first. He needs a credible presence here in Colombia and killing some unknown cloak and dagger assassins will not give him that. “I got problems of my own-”
“Omega Red? He is running toward Darien.” Bandera cuts him off but offers him nothing new. Logan knew Arkady will make for the Darien Gap, several cartels he is friendly with have a significant presence in the area. Logan needs to catch him before he gets there, and this is not helping him. Still, he lets her make her case he owes her that much. “I still have contacts throughout Central America, rather than hunting him through the jungle you could stay and deal with my assassin and I’ll use all my resource to track him down for you.”
Logan frowns at her casual assurances, “Omega Red’s not an easy mark.”
“Perhaps not, but he is in my jungles.” She hands him a tablet with a still frame picture on it, the distinct sight of Arkady trudging through the Colombian jungle, time-stamped and GPS location stamped.
She must have kept up her old drug trafficking surveillance network, possibly even expanded on it if its reach now extends into the Darien Gap. He couldn’t help but whistle. “Impressive.”
A smile appears on her face at Logan’s compliment, she closes the distance between them, “It will take him well over a week to reach the Darien Gap on foot, I can give you hourly updates on his progress. Do we have a deal Wolverine?”
This kind of intelligence is a godsend against someone as dangerous as Arkady, Logan is by no means squeamish when it comes to casualties, but he is not frivolous with his men’s lives. This whole arrangement is looking better and better.
Before he can respond a security guard barges into the room, yelling urgently in Spanish about a security breach. It is strange since no alarms have been sounded and the guard not only looks off for some reason he smelled different too. Logan draws his knife in one smooth motion and lets it fly loose at the guard, “He ain't one of yers.”
The knife flies through where the assassin used to be, having vanished into thin air. The collapsing of the air into the assassin's previous position told Logan all he needed to know. “Fuck! A teleporter.”
He yanks Bandera towards him just as the assassin reappears behind her. The masked man adjusts surprisingly fast, aim for Bondera with a lightning quick thrust. Cursing under his breath, Logan adjusts his grip, and shoves her away. Bandera falls backwards in surprise, but soon recovers her wits, and deftly rolls back on to her feet. Thanks to Logan’s reaction the blade only manage to cuts a gash into her side, rather than impaling her outright. Clutching at her side, Bandera rises to her feet. Despite her determined grin, Logan can smell the fear rolling off of her. Soon however everything is masked by the scent of her blood fills the air. The cut must have been deeper than he expected and the overwhelming iron scent sets his heart pumping.
Maneuvering Bandera behind him, Logan and the assassin size each other up with wary glares. The assassin is skilled, Logan can see it in his movement, and the motion of his foil. But he is far from the best he has ever fought. Logan is in a hurry though, if he gets careless Bandera could die, if he isn’t careful Arkady’s trail could be lost, no matter what Bandera’s assurances are in the jungle nothing is certain. The swordsman disappears from his sight again, even his scent fades from the air.
Logan’s killed plenty of teleporters before, sentinels at that. And this one is no smarter than usual. Above him, the turbulent air bombards Logan with the assassins scent. Attacking from a natural blind spot, an admirable attempt. But useless in the face of Logan’s superior senses. The assassin appears a fraction of a second later, the gleaming sword descending towards him. He could dodge it but there is no telling if he would just teleport again and perhaps be smarter and have another go at trying to kill Bandera. Even for someone like Logan defending someone else from a teleporter is far from a sure thing.
He decides to stand his ground, letting the sword pierce his shoulder and slide straight down through his heart. It hurts, but that's about all it will be for Logan. His hands flash forward before the assassin can realize his mistake. Six jagged claws spring from his knuckles, piercing the assassin's chest, puncturing his lungs. A vicious sneer spreads across Logan’s face, “Nice try.”
His image flickers and slowly piece by pieces he reverts to his original form, a masked man in a one-piece adorned with pictures of pocket watches. With a gurgling breath, blood pours from the assassin's mask and through it, Logan can see the shocked agony frozen onto the assassin’s face. Casually sweeping his claws outward in an arc, Logan splits the assassin open in a shower of blood. The mutilated body falls to the ground around him in several pieces.
Logan grasps the handle of the rapier still protruding from his chest and with a grunt pulls it free from his body. Even before the bloody blade clatters to the ground his wounds have already healed. Kneeling down, he retrieves the two samples of exotic tech from the main part of the dead? body. Wiping the blood off his face he walks past a surprised Bandera still clutching her side, towards the nearest restroom. As he passes her by, he flashes her a grin, “Ya really should get that looked at.”
Logan returns to find a cleaned up room and bandaged Bandera, she is lounging on a recliner looking out into the estate. He takes the bottle of Dalmore 62, removing the top, and takes a long sip. The burning sensation, as the smooth liquor works its way down, is oddly satisfying. He takes a seat next to her and offers her the bottle.
Bandera shakes her head, raising her own glass of wine she smiles, “Glad to see you are enjoying that bottle of whiskey.”
“I think I’d earned it.” Logan feels calm, satisfied as he often does after particularly gruesome kills, his predatory instinct is silent for once. Though he knows it is a temporary respite, soon the primitive urges will return and his struggle against his instincts will continue.
She takes a sip of her own drink and sighs. She is like a different woman now, the tension, the anxiety, it was as if they were never there. She waves her arm towards the place where the battle ended, “The cleaning bill on the Persian rugs aside, yes I think so too.”
Logan wasn’t paying too much attention, but now that she mentioned it the patterns on the rugs are different from before. She is enjoying this, leading him on and he for the second time ever he decides to indulge her. “How much could those rugs cost?”
Bandera smiles enigmatically at Logan. It is not like he lacks the funds but he is never wasteful, as much as he would have appreciated a bottle of whiskey that is worth its weight in gold he would never buy one for himself. He always prefers more pragmatic ways to spend his money that is obviously not the case here. And he is certainly not of a mind to get a lecture on the finer points of luxury. “Nevermind, don't wanna know.”
“I was only teasing Wolverine.” Turning towards him, resting her chin on one hand, she exaggeratedly looks him over, “You’re worth every penny.”
“Careful.” She has always been on the playful side, it’s nice to see that a decade in politics hasn’t changed that. Logan downs another large gulp of whiskey and smirks at her, “Yer a married woman now.”
“Hmph like those vows stopped my husband.” Logan watches as she stands up and walks over to the window.
She sounds more bitter than he expected and Logan can’t help but wonder perhaps there were a bit more feelings involved to the marriage than she lets on.
Finishing off the bottle, he walks up next to her and places a hand on her shoulder. “Well, two wrongs and all that.”
“I should have listened to you.” She doesn’t look at him when she speaks, her eyes are fixed on the horizon. Logan can see the flurry of emotion she works through. “After the revolution, I should have left all this behind. I should have traveled the world, be free while I still had the chance.”
“Yer not free now?” She is asking something of him, but he knows there is nothing he can do for her, this is not his problem.
She wraps her arms around herself when Logan lapse into silence, his unspoken answer received loud and clear. “Not in the way that matters.”
When she turns around all traces of the girl he once knew are gone, only an unfamiliar woman remains. She smiles apologetically, “I’m sorry this whole thing has shaken me more than I realized. I think I will retire for the night, thank you for your help Wolverine.”
She didn’t see him off the next morning, a servant brought him a ruggedized laptop with his breakfast and the temporary access codes to her surveillance network. Outside in the main courtyard, a brand new armored SUV is waiting for him. Logan smiles at the keys in his hand, this detour might have been unexpected but the payout is more than he could have hoped for. As soon as he is passed the main gate, he files away everything that happened last night, he once again solely focused on the task ahead.
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Chapter End Notes:
Up next, Wolverine meets Omega Red.