Author's Chapter Notes:
Next update won't be till after the new year, so early Merry Christmas and a Happy New Years to everyone.
A balding, overweight man sits in front of a wall of flickering screens in the back of a van. The sour smell of sweat mixes with old take out creates a highly unpleasant concoction assaulting Logan’s senses. Logan has been on this mission for over a week now, living out of the back of this van, he will be glad to finally wrap this mission up, and head back to Marie .

He accepted this job shortly before meeting Irene before he knew Marie was alive. Now even though he found her at last, and was even looking forward to spending some time around her, his professional pride won’t let him drop this mission. The rounded man taps a few more keys and the van is shaken by nearby explosions, on the monitors, Logan can make out several detonations happening at several buildings in the complex, the entire complex darkens as the blasts rips through the power generators.

Logan checks his gear, he got a new kit specifically for this mission. He pulls out the small handgun, attaching the silencer with practiced ease, then adjusts the straps on his ballistic chest plate. He doesn't need the armor, but he must look the part in order to be discreet, he wants as little of this mission to be traced to him as possible.

“Okay, the distraction started. Let's give them a minute to respond, then we move.” The fat man pulls a black turtleneck over his shirt and fumbles with the straps of his own body armor, just barely able to wrap around his stomach. “God dammit, fucking cheap ass armor”

“Black turtleneck huh?” Logan looks at him with a crooked smile, walking behind him and with a sudden pull, forces the straps into place, and a loud grunt from the man.

“Shit! You trying to kill me?” Microchip tries to shift his armor in vain, his stomach bulges out despite the straps. “And what's wrong with my turtleneck? I have it on good authority that all the best spies wear turtlenecks!” Logan can only roll his eyes at Microchip’s reply.

“Besides, your one to talk. A gun? Armor? I never thought the Wolverine needed anything other than his claws.” The fat man stands up with some strain and eyes Logan’s kit, his fist bunched in a pale imitation of Logan’s whenever he unleashed his claws.

“And I didn’t think the Microchip, would need to access a computer onsite.” Logan locks and loads his pistol, and pulls a mask over his grinning face.

“Guess we’re both full of surprises.” Microchip grins back at him, dons his own mask and grabs his pack.




Despite the noise and the explosions, no audible alarm rings out. Logan leads the way through the dark parking lot, towards a side entrance, Microchip following close behind.

“So how’s Frank doing?” Logan asks as the two men walks casually through the lot, despite their relaxed pace, each man can be seen scanning the surrounds for anything amiss.

“Still an ass.” Microchip grunts back, shifting his heavy pack on his shoulders. “The Bastard is bringing all sorts of heat on me, had to burn my emergency funds. While else do you think I’m here.”

“Frank wouldn’t be Frank if he wasn’t an ass,” Logan replies with a chuckle as they stand before a code locked door. Logan positions his back against the wall and keeps watch.

“What? Since when are you two friends?! You were trying to kill him the last time we met.” Microchip kneels down before the door and unscrews an electrical panel. Attaching several wires to the circuits he presses a handheld device against the code lock.

“If I was, he'd be dead, I was just sending a message.” Logan eyes the strange device briefly and sees a string of numbers scroll past on its LCD.

Microchip looks up at him with wide eyes. “You put him in a clinic for nine weeks, broke both his arms and legs.” Raising his hand, fingers outstretched for emphasis, “And five of his ribs!”

“Next time he’ll think first before trying to run me over with a steam roller.” The lock popped open just as Logan responds. He slowly eases the door open and peers inside, then gives Microchip the signal to follow.

Slipping through the maintenance entrance, Logan takes several deep breaths, an eerie calm settles over him. A feeling that has become far too common since he first traveled back in time. Color seems to drain out from his vision, his mind focuses on the sharp contrast of light and darkness, the world is reduced to two simple things, friendlies and everything else.

Emergency lights flicker in the dim hallways. Tracing the path memorized in his mind, he walks straight towards the server room. Turning the corner he spots two security guards on patrol, the two guards look completely shocked to see them, before they can even react, Logan places a bullet between each guard’s eyes. They crumple to the ground, sliding against the back wall leaving a smear of blood, and brains behind.

“Holy shit...,” Microchip whispers as they walk by the bodies. “You got fucking claws, super healing and now mad shooting skills, so not fair.”

“Quiet.” Logan whispers as he suddenly pulls back and presses himself against the wall. “The cameras are still working.”

“Don’t worry I slipped something special into their internal network, it should kick in right...about...now.” A small light in his hand switches from red to green. Logan quickly checks the camera and indeed finds it now powered down. Microchip preening proudly beside him, “Am I good or am I good?”




Stepping over the two dead bodies Logan grabs the submachine guns from their bodies and takes an earpiece from one of them. Handing an SMG to Microchip he pushes the device in place and listens. “Shit, they're onto us, we need to get to the server room quickly.”

They break into a run, their boots clacking loudly on the tile floor, Logan easily outpaces Microchip. Before he turns the corner, Microchip tosses a small chip to him yelling after him, “Take this, plug it into a USB port when you get there!”

Logan snatches the chip from the air and turns the corner, blowing past a security door, where he collides into another pair of security guards. The lead guard is sent flying from the force of his shoulder slam, Logan draws his pistol and shoots him in the head before he even lands. At the same time, he drives his knife, down into the gap between the second guard's chest plate and his helmet. The man clutches at Logan before falling to his knees dead.

Wiping his knife on his sleeve, he enters the server room, the hundreds of fans keeping the server farm cool, humming loudly in his ear. Red emergency lighting, combine with the blink LEDs of the server give the room a dreadful aura. Logan locates a server rack closest to the exit and plugs in the USB device he was given. A few minutes later Logan’s hearing picks up the buzz of hundreds of hard drives spinning up, and the servers revs up into overdrive.

Microchip jogs through the door panting heavily a few moments later. He drops his equipment down and sets himself up next to Logan. He sorts through his gear and methodically connects his equipment to the rack server. “What is the current chatter?” he asks while fiddling with several wire connections.

Logan keeps his eyes on the door and put a finger on his ear. “Looks like all the security doors are malfunctioning now. Your doing?” Microchip just give him a thumbs up and continues to work.

“They're bringing in a blow torch, I say we have twenty maybe twenty-five.” Logan chambers a round in each SMG and sets them within easy reach.

“More than enough time,” Microchip says confidently and connects the last of his wires and activate his machine. “And I’m in.”




Without ventilation the server room becomes dry and hot, Logan positions himself with a clear vantage point to the entrance while watching Microchip work. Nearly meaningless text scroll past on the screen, as Microchip taps furiously on his keypad.

“How much longer?” Logan eyes his watch impatiently, it's been over fifteen minutes and he can pick up the sound of activity on the other side of the security door down the hall.

Microchip wipes away some sweat and answers without looking up. “Five, no three more minutes.”

Suddenly a file name catches Logan’s eye. “Wait, what was that?” Logan pats Microchip on the shoulder then points a finger at a file on the screen.

“What?” Microchip looks up to where Logan’s finger rests. “That file? Don’t know, hmm looks like a record of tests on someone named Leech.” Microchip scans the file quickly. “Woah, heavy encryption, pretty big file too, at least two years worth data if the modified and created dates are to be trusted.”

Logan’s jaw clenches tight. Leech, not good, not good at all. He hasn’t heard this name in a long time. If they have him for over two years now, things could already be too late. But he needs to be sure, he needs as much information as he can on this. “I want that file.” Logan’s tone left no room for argument.

Microchip wasn’t going to work for free, he prepares himself for some bargaining “Hey, I wasn’t paid-”

“Hundred and fifty grand, cash.” Logan is in no mood to play games.

Microchip knows a final offer when he hears one and replies quickly, “Sold! And I’ll need one more minute.”

While Microchip finishes up, Logan quickly makes one last round through the room, leaving behind several blocks of C4 at various key points, wanting to make sure that he retains the last copy of that file. Then he places the last charge against the east wall. He returns with two hook guns in each hand just in time to see Microchip pack up.

Logan hands Microchip a thick envelope and gets a small USB drive in return. “Okay, I’m going to blow the wall on three and use these hook guns to set a zip line, then we’re home free.”




Explosions tear through the server room just as they land in the empty back lot, Logan turns to look and the wrecked building behind him and hopes that he got all the files on Leech that were stored there. He looks over at Microchip and sees him push the button on his detonator, Logan hears the distinct sound of thermite igniting then hears and feels the destruction of their van rather than seeing it.

Together the two men walk into the wooded area near the complex. Arriving at the predetermined point, Microchip bends down and removes a large camo net revealing a motorcycle laying on its side underneath.

“Alright the server room is gone and so is the van, I’ll see you around Wolverine.” With a huff, Microchip rights the motorcycle and seats him astride with some effort. He looks at Wolverine standing perfectly still, his head lifted as if he was catching a scent. “Wolverine?”

“Go,” Logan replies tersely, it was an order, trouble was obviously coming. Microchip speeds off into the darkness, glancing back over his shoulder he sees a man of massive size leaps into the clearing, and he is glad that Wolverine is his partner for this mission.




Logan catches the familiar scent in the air, his claws burst from his hands and he crosses them just in time to deflect a swipe from a huge clawed hand. The claws glimmer in the moonlight, and Logan realizes too late it is adamantium.

The strike tears through his claws, rending them into pieces. A series of sharp pains shoot up Logan’s arm, and he barely reacts in time to deflect a follow-up kick to his stomach, and he feels the impact of adamantium bone against his hands cracking the bones there. He lashes out while rolling away with the impact, and rights himself some two dozen feet away, his bones already mending and claws growing back into jagged ivory points.


“Jimmy…” A growl emanates from the crouching man.

Logan recognizes the shaggy blond hair, vicious blue eyes, and that sadistic grin. And he grins back every bit as viciously “Vicky...”

“It’s been a while runt, you seem rusty.” Victor stands up to his full height and flexes his metal claws.

“You the one that’s rusty.” Logan eyes Victor’s stomach, where three angry red gashes are slowly healing. Victor growls loudly in return, Logan ignores it and smirks, “Adamantium bones huh? As great as that sounds, it can be taxing.”

Logan punctuates his point by raising his fist, three perfectly sharp claws once again protruding between his knuckles. “Now why the fuck are you here?”

“Someone is interested in the servers at this site.” He looks past Logan and toward the building that once housed the servers, now with flames and black smoke billowing from it “You just cost me a lot of money.”

“Yeah? And?” Logan shifts his stance into a more defensive one.

A series of explosions rip through the complex for a second time that night, the rattle of automatic weapons fire follows. Victor smiles sadistically, “If I won’t get paid then I’ll have some fun instead.”

Logan lifts up a fist-sized rock into the air with a tap of his foot, and snaps a kick into it just as it rises waist high. The rock slams into Victor's shoulder, tearing through muscle and flesh, wedging between his metal bones spinning him backward. Logan follows after the rock with blinding speed, roaring as he drives a flying knee into Victor’s upper abdomen. Stumbling back and completely out of breath, Victor raising his hand into a defensive position, just as Logan reaches him again.

Ending his charge with a series of precise slashes, Logan aims for the softer parts of Victor's body. He rips at his stomach and tears into his sides. Blood and guts spill on the soft ground. Completely in a rage, Victor feeds off the pain and recovers quickly. Slamming his head down against Logan’s with force enough to crack steel. Logan was ready this time, reinforced with Ki, he withstands the headbutt, just barely. The impact fills his vision with stars and forces him to tumble back.

Victor rushes into Logan, his first haymaker slipping through catching Logan on the chin further rattling his head. Forcing himself to focus, Logan blocks the second punch, skewering Victor's left arm with his claws. Victor quickly turns the tables, catching Logan's claws between his radius and ulna, Victor twists his arm quickly and snaps the claws between the adamantium bones. Logan’s arms spasms violently from the pain. With a quick leg sweep Victor bring both of them down onto the ground, and from his position above Logan, he pummels Logan’s face relentlessly with punches, elbows strikes and headbutts.

With his healing slowly losing against the onslaught, Logan focuses his Ki and slips a short palm strike into Victor’s chin. The attack lands perfectly, Logan can hear the ringing of Victor’s skull as the vibration imparted by the hit begins to liquefy parts of Victor’s brain. Struggling to stay on top Victor jerks about wildly then lets out a terrifying gurgle before he falls back onto the ground bleeding from his nose and eyes.

Logan struggles to his feet and feels his face knitting itself back together. He gives Victor's head one last stomp, before locating his getaway vehicle. Picking Victor up by the neck and stuffing him into the trunk, Logan speeds away from the complex, leaving behind an increasingly savage battle, between Victor’s mercenaries and private security forces.
Chapter End Notes:
Up next, Marie gets roped into a party.
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