Author's Chapter Notes:
Many thanks to cschoolgirl for the beta
It is freezing cold and near pitch black in the cabin of the stealth converted C-130 Logan chartered. After nearly a month all over the Middle East and Eastern Europe, he finally pieced together what the microfilm is telling him. And it turned out to be a good opportunity to get himself back in top form. He is as focused as he has ever been, even the thoughts of Marie are growing more distant if not less persistent. While he might not ever forget about her, blood and death has always pushed away all other concerns.

The dim cabin lights flicker on, through the red haze, Remus looks at him disapprovingly. She actually supports this mission, the hunt for Stryker. But not the way in which Logan is planning to execute it. And as she has many times over the past months, she is more than willing to voice her concerns. “You should bring more support.”

“No. This is recon only.” The tone of Logan’s voice leaves no room for argument, and Remus shakes her head with frustration. Remus is more than competent, Logan knows that, but certain things critical to his plan can only be done with his own hands, Stryker is one of them. If he had more time or room to maneuver, he would not have minded. But he doesn’t, and he voices his reason aloud, to both remind her as well as himself, “More people will attract more attention, Stryker will notice.”

“Then at least bring one of us.” Remus is stubborn, but no doubt her distrust of Victor is what’s giving her such persistence in this matter. “Me, any one of us, even Morph would be a more reliable partner than Creed.”

“Victor will play his part.” Of that Logan has no doubt, this Victor hates Stryker with a passion that Logan once shared. Now Stryker is just another step to his goal, and Logan is more than willing to use Victor’s anger in achieving it. Remus means well but there is no chaining his mind, to make this parting less contentious Logan diverts the subject. “And ya should be in Japan hunting that swordsmen.”

“Silver Samurai. I already have men working on his location.” Remus replies with a smirk, she is always proud of her swords skills, to have a chance to match blades with such a renowned swordsman must be quite exciting for her. This Silver Samurai is not an unknown, and Logan had his share of trouble with a large metal samurai before. But by all accounts; though this man calling himself Silver Samurai, who is rumored to be the head of the Yashida Clan, is no one that he holds a grudge with. Whoever their opponents are, they must be sufficiently wealthy to have drawn Remus into the fray.

“Good, I’ll head straight to New York from the drop zone, alone.” The fleeting thought of asking after Mariko occupies his mind. It is gone soon enough though, while Mariko might have held some significance once, the loss he has suffered since, is still suffering now, puts things into perspective.

Clicking the last straps of his gear in place, he takes a deep gulp of the icy air. The pre-drop alarms blare over the speakers cutting off any further attempts at discussion. Birdy beeps over the comm in his ear, giving him the confirmation that everything is ready. The rear ramp of the plane slowly opens to the grinding of machine and metal. Hooking himself into the static line, Logan leaps off the edge with a running start.

The glare of the setting sun, blast of icy air, the burning sensation in his lungs as they adjust to the thin atmosphere, all familiar sensations he relishes. Arms tight to his side, Logan watches with morbid fascination as the ocean sprints up to meet him; soon after his world blossoms with pain. He couldn’t risk a parachute, too many chances for detection, instead he opted for a high dive from 30,000 ft. The salty water is cold, and the pain is already fading. Releasing his ki, Logan feels his body surging with energy, compounding the effects of his own healing factor. The journey is not over yet, he still has a little under 16 nautical miles to swim before he can get to shore and make his rendezvous.




Logan pulls himself out of the water and onto pier 84, it is late in the night. Thanks to the current, he is running about a quarter of an hour late to meet his contact. Sopping wet he walks up to his dead drop, an overfilled trash can filled with noxious who knows what. Dumping the contents on to the grass he holds his nose and fishes out his package. After getting dressed he makes a quick inventory. Pocketing his cash and new id, Logan takes out the car key that came in the package and types the address of the meeting point into his smartphone.

Traffic in New York City is always bad, tonight the traffic is somehow lighter than he expects, and he arrives just a few minutes after the appointed time. Immediately the air around the ramshackle warehouse is tense, Logan scents the adrenaline in the air, and hears the distinct sound of weapons and ammunition being prepared inside. Out of habit he tenses as well, when he first arranged this meeting he’d read no reports of significant tensions in the New York underworlds. Now there is more than enough men and guns in this warehouse alone to start a mean street war.

Parking the car close he pulls on his mask and steps out of the car, and raises his hand in a non-threatening manner, greeting the two guards at the door in fluent Russian. “Alexi, here to see Vlad.”

When the two guards narrow their eyes in suspicion Logan produces his coded card. And reinforces his demand, “He is expecting me.”

Suddenly he hears the shuffle of feet getting closer and catches a whiff of something, more than the machine oil and gunpowder. It is cleverly masked but not much can get by his sense from less than a dozen feet away. Semtex, a blind Asian man walking toward him right now is reeking of Semtex. He doesn’t think the man is here for him, anyone trying to kill him wouldn’t try it in such a pathetic method but he can’t be sure. He kicks up a piece of concrete and sends it straight into the blind man's forehead.

The Russian near him shouts out in alarm. Logan turns to face them hoping to calm them down before things get ugly only to see another man in all black and masked, weaving between them, delivering strikes of some skill. Logan stands back and watches him take the two larger Russians apart. The man stands up breathing heavily and faces Logan. “You didn’t help your friends.”

“Ain’t my friends,” Logan shrugs, before quickly realizing by the position of the man’s head that he is either crossed eyed or blind. By the mask on his face, Logan is more partial to the latter. “Besides, watching ya fight, that is more interestin’.”

“Japanese stylist, right? And quite a bit of boxing.” Logan starts walking forward, and the tilt of the masked man’s head confirms his theory, “Blind too. Best ya fuck off before ya get hurt.”

The masked man drops into a solid defensive stand and actually signals Logan to come at him, “Try me.”

Logan chuckles, it is funny how confident this guy is of his own abilities, no doubt the boy’s been in more than a few fights. If he had more time, he wouldn’t mind teaching a lesson or two. But he's got a job to do. “Don’t really got the time, kid.”

Logan is on him in a flash, the man’s defenses are solid if not somewhat predictable. He's fought the Hand before, killed several of their masters. This guy is talented but not nearly skilled enough to put up even minimal resistance, but he does try. Logan evades the classic boxing opener and the right hook that comes after. Checking the follow-up kick with one of his, Logan snaps a ki reinforced back fist into the masked man’s chin. The strike sends the man into the wall, and down into a trash can with a loud crash.

To be thorough, he should kill that blind men even the one in the mask. However, unlike the banana republics or third world countries, he usually operates in, here in the States he needs to be more careful. He doesn’t want any unnecessary attention on his operation than what is required. The warehouse door swings open wide and a half dozen Russians run out armed with automatic weapons, grenades even. Raising the coded card in his hand again, Logan yells out in perfect Russian, “Which one of ya is Vlad?”

Before any one of them can answer several massive explosions ripple throughout the area. Logan curses silently, this little feud between petty mobsters is going to seriously disrupt his search for Stryker. He can hear a man walking up to him, and he turns to find a mean looking Russian mad dogging him. “You’re Alexi? What's going on?”

The explosions rumble on for another minute before silencing. Logan tips his head towards the explosive-laden blind men lying on the asphalt few scant feet away, “Wanna guess who that’s for?”

The man Logan assumes to be Vlad raises his gun and in a barrage of bullets shoots the bomber dead. Logan might not appreciate his marksmanship or trigger discipline, but he can certainly appreciate the carnage they are causing. Suicide bombings, automatic weapons, it seems Logan would not need to change much to blend in with the New York crowd after all.

“I’m Vlad.” The shooter turns around and waves his hand towards the general direction on the explosions, “Great timing, I could use more men.”

Logan’s eyes narrow and he spit out the reply, “That ain't the deal.”

“One million in cash all up front.” With a snap of his fingers, Vlad summons a man with an open suitcase. Even in the dim light, Logan can see the thick stack of cash inside. With another snap of his fingers, the suitcase is brought to Logan for examination. Vlad gives him a toothy smile, “Plus what we already agreed to and anything else my informants can dig up.”

“A million…” Logan pretends to ponder the offer. His mind is already made up though, he didn't come to this place to make a profit. “That ain’t going to get ya much.”

“I experienced your work first hand in Chechnya...” The man narrows his eyes and Logan senses the man stiffen at the word Chechnya. He knew the person he stole the identity from was not nice, he is actually banking on that reputation. Now however in front of someone that might personally know Alexi, Logan readies himself to strike just in case. Vlad shakes his head and returns to the present, smiling once again. “What you can get, along with what’s left of my men it will be enough. And it will be nice not to be on the receiving end this time.”

Logan takes the suitcase, the money smells real, and the weight is about right. Not that he gives two shits on who would win this little fight. However, the extra carnage of prolonged street battles would give him cover to do what he needs.

It wouldn’t be too hard to call in a favor or two and get a few squads of grunts to support the Russians. And if they somehow beat the odds, then it's another person that owes him a favor in the future. Quickly thumbing through the bills, Logan closes the case and nods. “I’ll call in a few friends”




Logan sits in the back of an armored SUV, scrolling through his phone. There wasn’t much time, still, in less than 30 minutes he manages to round up a half a dozen guns for hire, and arrange for a vehicle fully stocked with equipment. From the documents forwarded to him by Birdy, he now has a good grasp of what's going on in this part of the city. These recent events are a godsend for him, the Russians have just suffered some serious damage which means this is the perfect opportunity to step in. He rather regrets letting Remus go off to Japan now, of his small group she would have been the best to deal with this situation.

He pulls up to the designated meeting spot. Along with his men, Logan steps out to a veritable war zone. The Russians got here before him, but they couldn’t have been ahead by more than a few minutes. Yet the remainder of Vlad’s men are strung out in this abandoned parking lot, amidst bullet-ridden wrecks of their vehicles. A slight sniff of the air lets Logan know that plenty of high explosives were used in this ambush. He turns his head to the far corner of the lot where a fight has just finished.

Logan smirks under his mask, it's that blind kid again, and a bloody and beaten Vlad. He’s gotta admire the guy’s persistence for him to still be in the chase after the beating Logan gave him. Before he can decide on a course of action, he hears the distant howl of sirens. Whoever planned this is certainly through, even has the cops on clean-up duty. There is a moan not too far off, Vlad’s right-hand man is still alive, barely.

There is no point talking to the Russians now, they’re practically wiped out. And from what his senses tell him of Vlad, he really won’t be in a mood to cooperate or stand up to serious questioning. Rather than trying to stop the blind man now trying to run off with Vlad; Logan decides that it might be easier to get what he wants from the chief henchmen. Someone just made him waste a lot of money and most importantly time. He will have to grab as much of the Russian territory as quickly as he can. Hopefully he can salvage enough of the intel to give him what he wants.

Whoever set this up will unquestionably have made plans to take over quickly. And Logan is not really in a position to exploit this turn of events anyhow. But it will still take time for the Russian’s operation to be fully absorbed, and during the process, there will be vulnerabilities. Logan will have to hit hard to compensate for this disadvantage in position and timing. First, he will need this dying man, Sergi.

“Set the PKM to cover that approach, the rest of ya support it.” Logan barks out a series of orders and the men spring into action, aiming the light machine gun at the incoming police vehicles. Logan walks over and checks on Sergi. The Russian thug will need extensive field surgery before he can even be moved, luckily for Sergi, Logan is a proficient combat medic. He opens up his medkit and considers the situation briefly then sighs and gives the rules of engagement, “No survivors.”




CNN rumbles in the background in the tiny motel room Logan rented as his phone begins to ring. The quagmire caused by the bombing and the subsequent street battle will make it a simple matter to insert reinforcements from the ocean. He sets a twelve pack next to him and sits down on the old uncomfortable couch. A tired feminine voice is heard on the other side. “Umm...Logan?”

“Birdy, bad time?” He kicks off his boots and rests his feet on the coffee table, taking a gulp of the ice cold beer.

“No no, just watching the news. What can I do for you?” He is not doubting that explanation, Birdy is a notorious news junky after all. He even hears the sound of the news in the background. But Logan knows it has been a day, and no doubt Birdy hasn’t been sleeping enough.

“I need men, about a company worth, veterans,” Logan says between gulps of his beer. He really can’t take all the blame himself, Birdy must be wracking her brain on the way she can spin this situation to their advantage.

“Is this about the explosions in New York?” Her voice is already filling with energy, and in her usual way asking more questions than just the vocal one. She wants to know if he will be dealing with it personally.

It is already changing her calculus, Logan can feel it. He wasn’t planning to direct the operation here himself, however, if Birdy has a plan, it might actually be worth his time. Birdy’s schemes have always been profitable, and Stryker is still here even with dead-end leads. If he hits just one lucky break he could have Stryker, Logan gives a vague answer, so he has the time to consider the trade-off. “Yes.”

“You know there are better ways to take advantage of this.” Her voice is seductive and sweet in his ear, so different from just a few moments ago.

The time is really tight, and without concrete intel on Stryker, he can’t afford to be sidetracked. “Don’t have the time.”

“I’m not saying no to your plan,” Birdy is already in sales mode, as the most financial minded member of his team, this is not the first time he’s heard her pitches. But this will be the first operation he plans specifically for her to take advantage of. He can feel her excitement. “I just want to add a bit of my own into the mix.”

“Go on,” Logan relents, it has been a long time coming, and Birdy has more than earned this chance to prove herself.

“I will arrange for two companies, all Russians” Logan perks up in surprise, if anyone can make just a logistical feat happen it would be Birdy.

With two companies he can sweep the cities that much faster, as for it being all Russians, “Ya want this looking like payback?”

“Yes, and when chaos reaches its peak, our extensive trading position in various private security companies will peak with it. If it gets bad enough GSG could make a play for a slice of the markets in the States.” It makes sense, Logan has to ask Birdy to invest significant sums of his wealth into various private military companies, mostly to give him more influence and support for his operations. But like all things financial with Birdy, she’s made it a mission to turn the investments profitable for a small management fee of course.

“Risky, we can’t know how Congress will react.” Politics has never interested Logan, and as corrupt as the American political system is, it is still far cleaner than the countries he usually operates in. He can’t just straight up buyout or assassinate the opposition.

“I'm sure we will make them realize only an efficient private organization has the tactical know how to deal with this new threat.” Birdy makes an excellent point, nothing quite manipulates a population like fear. And fear is something of a specialty for Logan, with just the right amount of terror, GSG could get the toehold it needs to expand.

“Birdy you almost scare me sometimes” Logan grins in the dim light of the TV. The chaos tonight will just be a light spring storm compared to the raging tempest he will bring. He is not usually a person who indulges in Mission creep. But by going down this path he will almost certainly flush out Stryker and stand to make a fortune to boot, a win-win situation that is worth the risk if he ever saw one.

“I’m the scary one?” Birdy mutters over the phone. And Logan couldn’t help but chuckles out loud at the disbelieve in Birdy’s voice before hanging up the phone.
Chapter End Notes:
Up next Logan circles in closer.
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