Work Text:
Earth 616
“Welcome to another episode of Stranger Than Strange! As always, I’m your host, Patrick Hoolin. Tonight’s guest comes to us from America: Dr. Perry Edwards, author of The Shadow Society - a book that discusses the possibility of a hidden society living amongst us ordinary humans. Beings with potentially very dangerous powers. You call them mutants, is that right Dr. Edwards?”
“Correct Patrick. But I must point out that they may be no more dangerous than the person living next door. I must contend that the government has been hiding the existence of these mutants in order to exploit them for their own questionable purposes.”
“What purposes could they serve, Doctor?”
“My research indicates that there’s plans.”
“Is it true that these mutants could come from another planet, Dr. Edwards?”
“Pah! Nonsense. The potential threat is very real, Mr. Hoolin. We must be wise and cautious.”
“And we will, Doc. Right after this word from our sponsor!”
Somewhere near the Canadian/US border.
A man named Neil Langram stood waiting. He was a very normal-looking, white bloke - brown, short hair, stubble and wearing a suit. A special agent for the Canadian government, working in a department so secret that the Prime Minister doesn’t even know it exists. That was fine by him, though. It lets Neil do his job without having to worry about the bureaucratic red tape. It allows Neil to get into places and learn things that the regular citizen couldn’t fathom. Some things even Neil would rather not know about. He’s lived with secrets for far too long and he’s not going to anymore. Someone had to tell the world the truth. Tonight, Neil was letting his partner know what he plans on doing.
“Where is Logan?” He muttered under his breath, impatiently, smoking a cigarette. He was supposed to meet Logan at the rendezvous half an hour ago. His car was parked behind him as he stood near some bushes, with the sound of Niagara Falls roaring away keeping him company. Logan knows Neil is due on a field mission in a couple of hours, so he should be here.
“You’re looking tense , boy.” A raspy, intimidating voice said, from behind the bushes. “You look nervous.” He said.
“Who…?” Neil gasped, taking out a small pistol.
“Oooh, look at the big boy and his little pea shooter. Guess I’ll have to run away, now.” The voice said, sarcastically as Neil tried squinting through the bushes, looking for any details. He had been found out. Neil knew this would happen eventually. He had to get away. He shot into the bush, before attempting to run back to his car. He had to warn Logan. But before he could make it to his car-
SPLUTDD!
Blood splattered out from the front of Neil’s stomach before the agent fell to the ground with a loud thud of limbs. Neil was dead. His expensive suit laid upon the dark pool of blood that was slowly forming beneath him.
“That’s what you get for pokin’ around where you don’t belong. You weren’t the first and you won’t be the last. Your little runt of a partner’s next. We have an old score to settle, he and I.”
A short time later, in a rundown section of Toronto, a blond woman arrived at an old liquor store called Hofbrau. She was a beautiful woman, with shoulder-length hair and angular features. She was slender but muscular - you’d be an idiot to think she couldn’t kick your ass. She wore a black, leather jacket and a yellow v-neck with a pair of high-waisted, black pants that cut off just before her ankles. She held a briefcase in her hand, as she came into the shop. Her name is Carol Danvers and she’s the best at what she does. She’s a special agent for the United States government. She came up North on a joint operation with the Canadians. This little shithole had been a major concern to both agencies. An arms dealer used it as his base of operations. His supply route takes his illegal arms through both Canadian and American soil. He boasts that he can get you whatever weapon you need, for the right price. Lots of dictators and terrorists from around the world have supplied him with more money than he’d ever know what to do with. But, after all is said and done, he’s nothing more than a thug . He may be extremely rich and bored, but he’s a thug just the same. Carol had been told that nothing holds his interest these days… well… Almost nothing. Carol found him in the back room, sitting at a circular table that was covered with a red and white chequered cloth. She placed her briefcase on the table and opened it up, revealing stacks and stacks of cash.
“The agreed-upon amount, Mr Preen. Do you want to count it, or shall we proceed?” Carol asked.
“Please, call me Jacques.” The man said. He was very chubby and bald and half his face had been subjected to a serious burn - leaving it quite pink and wrinkly now. He wore a beige suit and fedora, along with a green tie.
“You have no need to hide behind formalities to me, darling. What is a beautiful, young woman like yourself doing in such a dangerous line of work?” He asked with a creepy smile.
“What can I say? Some girls like a bit of trouble.” Carol shrugged, coyly.
“Your clients… they are international freedom fighters, no?” Jacques asked, as he brought her outside and brought Carol to the adjacent building, where he stored his weaponry.
“I didn’t say.” Carol said as they walked along the back alleyway.
“No… No, you did not. Come along, have a look.” He said, before taking his keys out and beginning to unlock the back door.
“You’re from the Eastern part of the States… No?”
“I didn’t say.” Carol repeated.
“No… No, you did not. There’s so much I do not know about you, Mrs. Daniels. So much I would like to know.” Jacques said, before bringing her into the building. Inside, it appeared to be a long-abandoned restaurant with black and red tiles on the floor - although a lot of it was hidden away in the darkness. A plastic, square sheet of tarp was laid out on the ground, along with a saw and a shovel. Standing inside was a man wearing a black suit, sunglasses and buzzed hair.
“Well… This is hardly what I pictured when you said this was your showroom, Jacques.” Carol commented.
“Oh, it was. Until I learned that the Americans would be sending a young woman to me, posing as an intermediary for international terrorists. So I had them moved to another location.” Jacques revealed.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Carol scoffed before the man in the suit pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Carol’s forehead.
“I don’t know what you’re tryna do, Preen, but if you’re tryna rip me off-”
“Do not insult my intelligence, Agent Danvers. Do the Americans think of me as an imbecile? I have been in the business before you spent just a day in Boot Camp. I have people on my payroll in both Canada and America. I have known of your operation before it was even assigned to you. But now, your assignment is terminated. I shall remain in business and you will be dead. ” Jacques continued, furiously. “ Kill her.” He instructed his muscles. It was a tough spot, sure. But Carol had been in much tougher spots than this and survived to tell the tale.
WHOOP-ICK!!
Carol, using her impressive flexibility, managed to duck down fast and kick the gun straight out of the henchman’s hand. Before the gun could hit the ground, Carol caught it, before aiming it directly into Jacques’ crooked nose. But another henchman behind Jacques was aiming his own pistol over his boss’ shoulder, towards the American agent.
“Looks like a standoff, Preen.” Carol said.
“No, Mrs. Danvers. You are outnumbered. My men are all around you, concealed by the shadows. At this moment, there are about four others that have their guns trained on your head. You will be dead before you can even think about pulling the trigger.” Jacques warned her.
“Is that so? Then how come I’m still standing?” Carol asked.
“You’re right, Mrs. Danvers. Michel!” Jacques called out, but nobody responded. In the shadows, Michel was dead, with a hole in his chest.
“Marius?!” Jacques called out again. Marius had been knocked unconscious and was slumped against the far wall.
“Javert?! Kill her! Kill her now!” Jacques commanded, but Javert was clutching at a cracked rib on the floor.
THUD!
The man behind Jacques had fallen to the ground, unconscious. Jacques squeaked in horror.
“Sorry, bub. She ain’t dying today.” Logan’s voice growled as he held sharp knives in each of his hairy hands.
“Who are you?” Jacques asked, turning around to see the mutant. His black hair was brushed back, with two clumps mimicking horns. His bushy sideburns lined his jaw and a scruffy goatee grew from his chin. He was wearing a white tank top, showing off his rippling muscles. It was tight enough to show off his chiselled abs and his arms had so many defined muscles running through them, that they almost looked like they were drawn on.
“Logan.” He answered.
‘Logan?’ Carol thought, surprised. ‘He wasn't supposed to be part of this operation - but I’m thankful he is. Still the wildest man I’ve ever met, but somehow moves with brutal elegance. He shows his age about as much as he shows mercy.’ Poor Preen looked terrified as he tried and failed to run away. Carol almost felt bad for him. Almost.
“Nice to see you again, Logan.” Carol said, as she turned on the lights - revealing all the bodies that Logan left in his wake.
“You too, kiddo.” Logan smiled, going to the bar and taking out a couple of bottles of beer.
“Please, stop calling me that.”
“Right. Sorry. How’re you doin’?” Logan asked.
“Right now? Kinda pissed you stole my thunder.” Carol admitted. “But, I’m still thankful. Not sure how I’d have gotten out of that one.”
“Eh, I bet you coulda fought your way outta that and won. I just wanted some fun, too.” Logan assured her. “I got the call an hour ago. Langram was supposed to be up here, but something came up. The boys back in Ottawa knew you and I had a history of running successful missions together, so… Let’s drink to old times.” Logan said, handing her the bottle of beer.
“I’ll cheers to that, any day.” Carol said, tapping her bottle against his before taking a swig. “I’ve got to call this in. We need a clean-up crew and some interrogators.”
“Huh? Why bother? I’m sure between the two of us, we could squeeze everything we need to know outta the sack of potatoes.” Logan reasoned, looking down at the bruised and battered arms dealer.
“Logan, we don’t do that kind of stuff anymore.” Carol sighed.
“Yeah, that’s a shame. Takes all the fun out of being a secret agent. Go on, make your call.” Logan said, looking disappointed.
Carol and Logan go way back. She was still a newbie when he first met her in the field, but she learned real quickly. There isn’t a man or woman Logan would rather have watching his back when it comes down to it. They’ve seen each other through a lot of hard times. Logan knew it was about time he told her everything. She’s one of the few he can trust. Carol hung up, looking stressed.
“What’s wrong, Carol? Are the boys back at the office giving you a hard time?” Logan asked, but she silently sat at one of the tables. “Carol? What’s going on, you look freaked out?” He asked, concerned.
“It’s Neil, Logan. Neil Langram, he’s… he’s…”
One Hour Later…
Whoever got him, must've been good. They must've been sneaky and quiet because Langram was one of the best. Carol and Logan met up with the Canadian agency while the clean-up crew loaded ambulances with Jacques and his men’s bodies. Carol and Logan looked over Neil’s dead body, which had been mangled up with knives, while agents were looking for clues.
“This is a mess, Logan.” Carol’s boss, Sidney Hallorman, told him. “My men and I have been all over this scene trying to piece together what happened.” He said.
‘The killer came out of the bushes.’ Logan thought - already able to tell thanks to his uncanny tracking skills.
“Once you get past all the blood, all sorts of interesting things reveal themselves.” Sidney said. Mr Hallorman was about ten years older than Carol, with dirty blond hair that swooped over his forehead and some faint wrinkles on his handsome face. He wore a black suit with a blue waistcoat and yellow tie, along with an ID badge hooked onto his pocket square. He's a very official bureaucrat working with the Defence Ministry. He’s an accountant, cosplaying as a spy. He wouldn't know a clue even if it stabbed him in the ass.
‘What was Neil doing here? He and I were so close to learning the truth. That’s probably why he was killed.’ Logan thought.
“The most likely theory that we’ve come up with is that Langram was selling his services to the higher bidder. He was probably a traitor, Logan.” Sidney explained. “One who pissed off someone who liked to play with knives. He deserved it.”
“Shut. Up. ” Logan growled, before slapping Sidney across the face with the back of his hand, with enough force to make the agent stumble backwards. “Neil was as loyal and trustworthy a man can ever be! He’s worth ten of you! And that’s being generous!” Logan shouted, furiously, grabbing Sidney by his tie and holding him intimidatingly close. “I won’t let you desecrate his name just so it’ll make your job easier. I’ll kill you before I let that happen!”
“Let him go, Logan. Look at him. He’s not worth it. Control yourself.” Carol reasoned.
“I’m in control, Carol. You don’t have to worry, I haven’t lost control in a very long time.” Logan assured her, before releasing his hold on Sidney. “Hallorman, if I find out that you’ve been talking shit about Langram being a traitor again, I will come after you. That’s a promise.” Logan threatened. “Now get lost. I’ve got work to do.”
The agents walked away, as Logan crouched down and surveyed the scene. Carol looked concerned for Logan.
“Logan, what are you doing? Let’s go get a drink. It’s over for Neil.” Carol reasoned.
“No. I’m gonna find out who did this to him and when I do…” Logan said, before getting distracted. He noticed some footprints in the dirt of the bushes. “There’s something here. I can almost smell it.”
“Logan, this case is too personal for you. You’ve got to back off.” Carol advised.
“Listen to Ms. Danvers, Agent Logan.” A man said, coming over.
“Malcolm.” Logan sighed, not even needing to see him as his voice and cigar scents were enough to identify him. Malcolm is a short man with short, black hair and a chubby body. He wore golden, circular glasses, a large fedora and a long, grey coat over a suit.
“You are to back off the case, or charges will be brought against you.” Malcolm told him. “I’m taking over this investigation from this point forward.”
“And I’m sure you won’t rest until the killer is found.” Logan said, sarcastically, stepping away from the bushes.
“I guarantee it.”
“So, when are you dragging me in for an interrogation?” Logan asked, turning around to face Malcolm and his buddies.
“There will be no hauling, Agent Logan. You are a loyal government employee with nothing to hide, isn’t that right? I’m sure you will cooperate to the fullest with our investigation. Take some time off. We’ll contact you when we need you.” Malcolm instructed.
“Yeah. Thanks.” Logan mumbled.
That night, at Logan’s small, shabby apartment, he was ranting to Carol. She was sitting in an armchair as he was pacing back and forth.
“I’m telling you, Carol, the whole thing stinks. Malcolm never should have let me walk away like that. He knows more than he’s willing to admit.” Logan explained, holding a bottle of whiskey in his hand. His apartment was simple. There was a desk littered with case files and reports, a green rug sprawled out on the pinkish-brown wooden floorboards and his unmade double bed sat in the corner.
“Come on, Logan, one of your best friends was killed and now you’re drowning out your sorrows in that bottle. You’re bound to see conspiracies all over the place, thanks to the booze.” Carol reasoned, looking tired and bored.
“I’m not drunk.” Logan said, firmly.
“Yeah… Why is that? You drink more than you breathe and it never seems to affect you.” Carol said, raising an eyebrow.
“Urr… Excellent metabolism. Can we get to the matter at hand, now? Truth be told, there’s things going on here that I can’t tell you about. Neil and me were onto some pretty serious stuff. I think that’s what got him killed.” Logan explained before turning to his agency-assigned computer. It was far more high-tech than anything else in the room - making it look more futuristic than it actually was. There was a large screen built into the wall, with little notes stuck around it. The metal desk was shaped like an upside-down U, with a keyboard on top, along with stationary littering the surface.
“I’m about to do something that could be considered illegal in most countries, so… don’t be a snitch.” Logan told her, sitting down on his desk chair and powering the monster machine up.
“I’m a big girl, I can handle it. Besides, you’re making me curious.” Carol assured him.
“I’m going to break into the Defence Ministry’s mainframe and see what I can dig up on me and Neil.” Logan told her. But the minute he started attempting to do that very thing, a message popped up on the screen.
UNAUTHORISED ACCESS.
Then the screen cracked. Then- FWKOOM!!
A fire erupted from inside the computer with a small blast. Logan quickly grabbed a blanket and started using it to fan the flame and slowly extinguish it.
“Shit. What a waste of equipment. Guess I’m gonna have to find another way to find what I need.” Logan said, disappointed. When there was nothing but some smoke left, Logan turned to Carol.
“You wanna spend the night with me and help come up with a plan?” Logan asked.
“I’d love nothing more, but… I’ve got a 6am flight back to Washington and I still have to write up my report on tonight’s mission.” Carol explained, sounding quite sad she’d be missing out. “As a friend who cares a great deal about you, I’d suggest you get some rest and back away from this whole mess.” Carol advised.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Logan said as Carol left his apartment. “Gettin’ some shuteye doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”
So Logan got into bed and soon fell asleep to the smells of smoke. But unfortunately, his sleep was cut short. Barely two hours later, the sound of a silenced gun shooting through his windows woke him up. Most people wouldn’t be woken up by it, but Logan wasn’t most people. Logan, wearing nothing but a pair of grey boxers, leapt out of bed as bullets sprayed through the window.
‘Nine millimetre. There goes my decor.’ Logan thought as he ducked out of the way. ‘Why’d they bother with a silencer if they were gonna make so much noise?’ Logan thought as lamps crashed to the floor and chunks of wood were taken out of the drawers. ‘Since he hasn’t hit me yet, I’m guessing he’s shooting blindly. Lucky for me. Gives me a chance to use the darkness to escape through the front door.’ Logan grabbed his pistol on his way out. He opened his apartment door to find someone waiting for him in the hallway. He was wearing an all-black set of clothes, gloves, boots and a ski mask. He was wearing a leather bit of armour over his torso and holding a submachine gun.
“Such a big guy to hunt a little guy like me.” Logan commented. ‘It would be easy enough to drop him with the gun, but… I’d rather take him out quietly. I might be able to buy myself a few more seconds…’
“Don’t move!” The man said, pointing his gun at Logan, but the Wolfish Man was fast. He used the wall as a jumping pad, launching himself at his attacker and within seconds, snapped his neck with his hairy, powerful arms. Logan then ran towards the window at the end of the hallways, then smashed through it like a cannonbolt. There was no one on the street below, so he might be able to walk away from this one after all.
Logan found a telephone box, next to a pile of garbage bags, in the slums of the city. He inserted a coin before dialling a number.
“This is Agent Logan, priority code: Wolverine . I need control now. Had a shooting in my apartment - bad guys might still be on my trail. Bring me in, safely. Can you guys meet me? … Yeah, I know where the hockey stadium is, I’m Canadian. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes later at the hockey stadium, Logan stood on the ice, waiting. The bleachers were dark, the scoreboard above him was turned off and the emptiness was eerie.
‘Leave it up to the agency to take care of their own. I miss my wolves… They’ll pull me in and lock me away while they search high and low for the bad guys, not stopping once to think about why they wanted me dead.’ Logan thought to himself. Logan sniffed and…
‘Yup. Leave it up to the agency to take care of their own.’ Logan thought with a sigh as men with guns were emerging from the dark bleachers - all dressed like the man in Logan’s hallway. Logan threw one of his knives, letting the blade sink into a man’s throat, making him drop his gun. Logan then used his own gun to fire at the swarm of bad guys, killing them one by one, until there was only one left. He made sure to only shoot him in the leg. Logan approached him as he whimpered and groaned, trying to reach for the gun that he dropped.
“Trust me. You’re not fast enough.” Logan told him, pulling his knife out of the first man’s throat, before standing over the wounded agent. “Now, tell me who on the inside set me up?”
“I’m not talking… By the end of the night, you and that woman will be dead.” The man croaked.
“You’re right. You won’t be talking for at least a couple months when your jaw’s wired shut.” Logan snarled, before aggressively kicking his mouth.
Carol.
By the time Logan got to Carol’s hotel, her room had been completely riddled with bullet holes. Furniture had been destroyed and smashed, with four dead bodies lying on her floor, behind the bed.
“My knight in shining boxers.” Carol scoffed, as he came through the door. He was still mostly naked, looking quite ridiculous.
“I didn’t have time to get dressed.” Logan defended. “They sent four guys after you? They only sent two to my apartment.” He noticed, looking offended.
“Obviously they knew who the real danger is, in this partnership. What have you gotten me into, Logan?”
“I don't know. But we can't trust anyone. Are you up for this?”
“Looks like I don't have much choice.” Carol shrugged.
“Don't be mad, it's just like the old days.” Logan tried.
“That’s exactly what I'm afraid of.” Carol sighed.
The Canadian Ministry of Defence.
Relegated to a dark sub-basement deep within the bowels of this vast government complex, a top-secret research and development agency is in its earliest stages of growth. A couple of agents sat in the bottom floor, playing a game of cards in white jumpsuits with tech strapped to it. On their heads, though, they wore classic flannel, Canadian beanies. They both sat on boxes of confidential documents as they played, with packed lunches sitting by their feet. The hallway they sat in was made almost entirely out of metal and concrete with piping running through the walls and wires climbing along the ceilings.
“Department H! What’s that stand for, Department Hoser?
Why’d we draw this lame duty, eh? Stuck in the basement like a couple of rats.” The blond, skinny one said.
“Don't complain. Could be worse.” The other, chubbier and brunette one, said.
“Don't see how.”
“We could have to dress like all the other hosers up above instead of gettin' to wear our own fine garb.”
“Guess you might be right, Bob.”
“You know it, Doug.” The chubbier one chuckled before a red light started flashing above their heads.
“Looks like it's time to do the rounds.” Doug sighed. They both took out their guns as they stood up and started patrolling the corridors.
“Off we go, looking through these empty halls, without anything interesting in sight.” Doug complained. But when they went round the corner, Carol was there, wearing a black t-shirt, white gloves and a pair of grey pants. She was standing in front of a large, metal door with a huge valve on its front.
“What the fuck?” Doug said, surprised.
“What’s a young girl like you doing here? W-We’re gonna have to arrest you. Don't move.” Bob told her.
“I wouldn't dream of it. I've been waiting for you to show up. You’ve taken your sweet time.” Carol sighed.
“Huh? What’re you talking about?” Bob frowned.
“Waiting for you so I can break into the central computer banks. Duh.” Carol said, condescendingly.
“And how did you plan on doing that?”
“Well, you have the electronic key that will open the vault, right?”
“Yeah. But how would you get it?” Doug questioned.
“I won't. He will.” Carol answered.
“He who?” Doug frowned, while Bob was already gulping as he looked up towards the ceiling. Logan fell through the ventilation shaft above with a roar, onto the two agents. He was no longer in his boxers, suffice to say. Instead, he was wearing a skin-tight, black, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of grey trousers. He grabbed Doug and threw him onto the ground - immediately disarming him.
“While my friend finishes up with your partner, how about you hand over the key? If you think he’s scary, try saying no to me.” Carol warned him.
“H-Here it is.” Bob squeaked, handing it over.
“Good boy.” Carol said, before punching him across the face and instantly knocking him unconscious.
They both went inside, where a large computer system was built into the wall. Computer banks, blinking buttons and large sets of drawers lined the walls. Logan began digging through the computer’s files, searching for information, while Carol stood watch.
“I’ve been in the Defence Ministry for longer than I’d like to remember and I’m telling you, Carol… This place doesn’t exist.” Logan told her.
“This place is very expensive looking, for a phantom organisation. Did you find what you’re looking for?” She asked, coming over to look over his shoulder.
“It’s all here. Langram, me and a list of half a dozen others.” Logan said, showing her.
“What’s going on here, Logan? How do you fit into all this?” Carol questioned.
“Do I even need to say?” Logan sighed, as he scrolled to a screen that said ‘MUTANT AGENDA’. Logan punched the screen, furiously, causing sparks to erupt out of the computer and burn his hand. Then he held it up to Carol, letting her witness it heal itself in a matter of seconds.
“I shoulda known.” Carol sighed. “So… Where to next?”
“Wait… You don’t have any concerns? Any questions?” Logan asked, surprised.
“Logan, if you think this changes anything, then you don’t know me as well as you thought you did. Now come on. Where are we going next?” Carol asked.
“Um… We’re starting at the top of the list. There were only two names that looked even vaguely familiar. The first we don’t want to run into. The second is gonna take us back to your home soil.” Logan explained, hiding the relief he felt.
One four-hour plane ride later, the pair of agents arrived in New York City. They came to Greenwich Village, where pedestrians were walking to and fro. Logan was wearing a white tank top and a pair of khaki pants, while Carol wore her leather jacket over a pastel-yellow crop top and jeans. They walked through, finally arriving at their destination: The Sanctum Santorum.
“So what is this place, exactly?” Carol asked.
“How do you not know? Hasn’t your agency told you about the man who saved dozens of victims who were trapped in their sleep? Or the burglars that were rescued from another dimension? Or the haunted house that was vanquished by Doctor Strange?” Logan asked her.
“Oh… That’s who we’re meeting?” Carol asked, surprised.
“How else do you expect to find him in a city as populated as this?” Logan reasoned, before going to the front door and knocking on it. They waited a couple of minutes until it was answered. The door slowly opened to reveal Wong standing there. He was wearing a set of green robes, contrasting quite drastically against Logan and Carol.
“Hello? Urrr, can I help you?” Wong asked.
“We’re here to see the wizards.” Logan told him.
“We prefer ‘sorcerers’.” Wong sighed, letting them in.
“Yeah, and I prefer wolves, but here I am.” Logan scoffed, coming inside. His eyes scanned the strange artefacts that decorated the surfaces, as Wong led the two agents into the study, where Doctor Strange had been studying books. Stephen was wearing blue dark blue robes and a pastel-blue cape, as well as a golden amulet around his neck.
“Stephen, we have some agents here looking for help.” Wong announced.
“How did you know we’re-?”
“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with us.” Stephen said, cutting Carol off. “What’s the problem?”
“We’re looking for somebody, whose life is in great danger.” Logan answered.
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. Dr. Perry Edwards. Heard of him?” Logan asked.
“Is that the guy that published that book about mutants? The Shadow Society? Wong saw him on the TV recently.”
“That’s the one.” Carol nodded.
“What makes you think his life is in danger?” Stephen asked, intrigued.
“Because we were attacked for the same reasons.” Logan answered, bluntly.
“I see. I should be able to help you track him down, but I’ll have to accompany you.” Stephen told them.
“Are you serious?” Logan asked, annoyed.
“I am. I’ll have to use the Amulet of Agamotto and you’ll be damned sure I’m not letting you borrow it.” Stephen nodded. “Wong, stay here and guard our home. I shouldn’t be too long.” He told his companion.
Stephen, Logan and Carol walked out of the Sanctum, while the sorcerer used his Amulet to scan the area. When he finally landed on a direction, he gestured for the two agents to follow.
“So… Are you a mutant?” Carol asked.
“Me? No, no. This is not a mutation, this is a talent that must be learned.” Stephen told them. “No, I will not teach you.” He added before they could ask.
“Do you do birthday parties?”
“Logan!”
“Make fun all you like. I know the unexplained can be hard to understand, but of all people, I’d expect you to understand, James .” Stephen reasoned.
“ Never call me that again.” Logan growled.
“As you wish.” Stephen said with a small smirk. Carol looked surprised but decided not to probe for any details.
“Ahhh, I think we’ve found him.” Stephen said, pointing towards the doctor. He had a dark, ginger mop top and a moustache, smoking a cigarette. He had a pair of rectangular glasses perched on his chubby nose and wore a greyish-beige suit.
“Good job, Doc. We’ll take it from here.” Logan told him.
“Not just yet. I’m gonna make sure you don’t assassinate him, even if the government thinks you should.” Stephen told them, before making his way towards the author.
“Dammit.” Logan muttered, following the sorcerer.
“Dr. Edwards?” Stephen called out to him.
“Er… Yes? I don’t have time for autographs or chitchat.” Edwards mumbled, not stopping and walking away.
“You’re in danger, Doc. We need to talk.” Logan told him, firmly.
“Please, this isn’t the time.” Edwards said, continuing to ignore them and turning his stroll into a brisk walk, then into a jog.
‘I knew I shouldn’t have published that damn book. They’re after me. I know too much. They won’t allow me to live!’ Edwards thought. He ran back to his apartment building. Edwards swung open the door and ran upstairs.
‘The mutants are out to get me! They want to silence me. They-’ When he opened his door, his thoughts came to a halt when he saw Stephen Strange already standing inside his apartment.
“Wha-?!” Edwards gasped.
“Get down, Edwards.” Stephen instructed.
“I will not stand down! Y-You can’t tell me what to do!” Edwards blurted out, scared. “The world must learn about your kind, and-”
“Edwards. GET DOWN!” Stephen shouted, throwing Perry down onto the ground as a couple of thugs showed up at the doorway. Strange quickly threw up a golden, glowing shield in front of them as bullets started spraying into the apartment. Logan and Wolverine came up behind the two bozos with guns and with a couple of expertly made hits, sent them crashing to the ground.
“These two are just the first wave, Strange.” Carol told him.
“We spotted at least a dozen more on our way up. Let’s take ‘em out so we don’t have them all up here at once. You up to it, Merlin?” Logan suggested.
“Yeah, I’m up to it. But call me Merlin again and I’ll send you to the Purple Veil.” Stephen snapped coming out of the apartment with Logan and Carol as more hitmen came hurrying up the stairs.
“You think calling yourself Strange is any better?” Logan scoffed as the three started fighting the thugs, using knives, fists and magic as they worked together. Golden blasts sent men crashing to the ground, while Carol and Logan were snapping bones in a more personal way.
“I didn’t call myself Strange.” Stephen rolled his eyes.
“Don’t tell me that’s your real name?” Logan laughed.
“Boys! Less chatting and more fighting!” Carol shouted as the three of them continued battling the agents down the stairs.
“Actually, I’d rather ask why you’re mixed up in all this?” Stephen asked. “Exactly how old are you?”
“Put it this way: in some states, you wouldn’t be able to buy me a drink!” Carol answered, using her elbow to crack a jaw. When they all fell to the ground, the three heroes returned to Edwards, who was in shock.
“Come on, Edwards. We’re gonna take good care of you.” Logan told him, lifting the man up onto his feet and dragging him out of his apartment. “We’ve got a safe house nearby.”
“But who… who… who…?”
“Who’s behind all of this? We’re hoping you can help us figure that out.” Carol answered.
“No, who’s gonna look after my cats?” Edwards asked.
“I’ll have Wong take care of that.” Stephen answered.
The four of them left the apartment building and continued to walk through New York, with a freaked-out Edwards trying to get away from them.
“Get away from me! I’m going to the police!” He insisted, trying to break free from Logan’s tight grip.
“I wouldn’t advise doing that.” Carol told him.
“I’m not interested in your advice!”
“We’re only trying to keep you alive, Doctor Edwards.” Stephen assured him.
“Keep me alive? I want to know who you think is trying to kill me? And why?” Edwards demanded.
“You and us both, Perry. Whoever wants you dead wants to off us, too.” Logan explained as they walked into Central Park.
“Your name, along with mine and a few others, turned up in a government data bank. The file was called ‘THE MUTANT AGENDA’ and it looked like it had worldwide ramifications.” Logan explained.
“Worldwide?” Stephen repeated, suddenly a lot more interested.
“I… I never dreamed… but of course, it would be worldwide. How small -minded must I have been, to assume it was confined to the United States?” Edwards realised. “This is bigger than I had ever imagined. And I’m on the brink of exposing them all. No wonder they want me dead.”
“You want to take a deep breath and start from the beginning, Doc. Who is it that wants you dead?” Logan questioned.
“‘The Mutant Hierarchy’, of course.” Edwards answered.
“The Mutant what?” Stephen asked, feeling out of his depth for once. His usual enemies were demons and ghosts or other sorcerers, not… whatever this was.
“Haven’t you read my book?” Edwards asked. “I wish I could give you a copy, but you kidnapped me.” He complained. Stephen just waved his hand and his book appeared out of nowhere and dropped into the sorcerer’s hands.
“You mean this one?”
“Yes. That one.” Edwards said, in awe and terror. “It’s all there. A Shadow Society of mutants. Superpowered, genetically superior beings who are living amongst mankind. Like you.” He said, looking at Strange.
“I’m not a mutant. I’m a sorcerer. There’s a difference.” Stephen told him, sounding irritated.
“Shut up.” Logan snapped at Strange. “Go on.” He told Edwards.
“As we stand here, society, civilization and the world is on the brink of a major step forward in the evolutionary process. However… the consequences could be a war the likes of which history has never witnessed.” Edwards explained.
“A war?” Logan repeated.
“Yes. In researching the sequel for my book, I have discovered that not all of these mutants are benevolent.” Edwards revealed. “I’ll show you.”
That evening, at Manhattan's Upper East Side, Doctor Strange, Logan, Carol Danvers and Doctor Perry Edwards arrived at the end of a street, looking towards a fancy venue. It was housing a party, filled with wealth and pride.
“The Hellfire Club. Admittance and membership is by invitation only.” Perry explained.
“I’ve heard of these guys.” Stephen said. “Back when I was a renowned doctor, I heard mentions of them.”
“Only those who are the most wealthiest and powerful politicians and intellects receive those invitations. No one turns down the membership. To do so is to exclude yourself from cavorting with others of the social, economic and political elite.” Edwards explained.
“And what does it have to do with mutants? ” Carol asked.
“Among the highest-ranking members of the Hellfire Club are superpowered mutants.” Edwards answered.
“How do you know about this?” Logan questioned.
“I have my sources. Sources who tell me that the mutants are planning a purge of what is called the Inner Circle of the Hellfire Club.” Edwards described.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“My source, before her untimely demise, came upon information which indicated that the power these mutants crave reaches far beyond the boundaries of the Hellfire club.” Edwards continued. “That… and the fact that you tell me I have now been marked for death, is all I know.”
“I’m going in.” Logan decided.
“Of course we are.” Carol said.
“Sorry, Carol. I need you to get Edwards back to safety.” Logan told her.
“No. I know this is personal to you, but I’m in this too. You can’t just push me aside when things get tough. I wanna solve this just as badly.” Carol insisted.
“Carol, I’ll be going with Strange . He’s supposedly famous so I bet he can pull some strings. But I need you safe out here, protecting Edwards, for my conscience.” Logan told her. “Get him to safety, then move on with your life. Get out of this ugly business, grow up, find a new dream.” He advised her.
“I’ll get him to safety, but don’t you dare tell me how to live my life again.” Carol snapped at him, before grabbing Edwards and dragging him away.
“I can sense you’re from a time when women were only allowed to be maids and housewives .” Stephen said once she was gone. “But this is a new age. Women are far more capable than you realise, especially Carol. She’ll do some incredible things - you can’t hold her back because she’s a young woman.” He told Logan.
“Yeah. I know that. It just scares me to think she could die for an agency that couldn’t care less.” Logan sighed. “Now come on. I want some answers.”
“Urr… Before we go.” Stephen said, before making some hand movements. In just a flash, their clothes were replaced with a lot more posher garments. Stephen was wearing a smart, blue suit while Logan was wearing a dark brown blazer and matching pants, with a white v-neck underneath.
“Convenient.” Logan commented.
Logan and Stephen approached the entrance, only to be stopped by a couple of guards. They were stern-looking, dressed in suits.
“Members only.” One said.
“Don’t you recognise me?” Stephen asked. “Doctor Stephen Strange - most of your members wouldn’t be alive without me.”
“You’re not a member. Back off.” The guard insisted.
“Strange?” A voice said. Logan and Stephen looked over to see a man and his son coming over. He was dressed in a long, grey coat and a black suit. He was quite handsome, with wavy brown hair - looking quite different from his son. His boy had combed, blond hair and wore a blue suit.
“Warren? Is that you?” Stephen said, joyously.
“Where in blazes have you been?” Warren asked, curiously.
“I’ve been practising here and there, around the country.” Stephen lied.
“Oh, wonderful. Are you part of the Hellfire Club? I had no idea.” Warren said, impressed.
“Yes, I am. But this imbecile won’t let me and my friend in.” Stephen answered, frustratedly.
“Oh, please . Sir, allow this man to come in with us. I insist.” Warren commanded the guard.
“Very well, sir.” The guard sighed, unsure. When Stephen, Logan, Warren and his son walked inside, the guard brought a walkie-talkie to his mouth.
“All stations. This is the front door. We have a possible crasher - beef up security in any classified areas.” The guard instructed.
“I won’t lie, at first I thought that Doctor Strange fellow on the news was you. But that would be preposterous! He’s clearly using your name for publicity.” Warren chuckled as they went into the posh, elegant grand hall where many famous and important businessmen and women, politicians and other powerful figures mingled. Strange recognised people like Leland Owlsey, Wilson Fisk and Norman Osborn.
“Yes, yes. I thought about suing him, but turns out, he’s great for my business too!” Stephen chuckled, making Warren laugh.
“Oh! I forgot to introduce you to my boy, Warren Worthington the Third!” Warren introduced.
“Nice to meet you.” The boy said, softly.
“You too, buddy.” Stephen smiled.
“Hey, where did your friend run off to?” Warren (the father) asked. Stephen looked around to see Logan had completely disappeared.
Logan had already made it into an off-limits office. A couple of guards were lying unconscious inside and his blazer had been discarded as he searched through the computer.
‘Strange’s whole schmoozing thing was ridiculous. If I ever have to do something like that again, I think I’ll just go through the sewers. Much less filthy.’ Logan thought. He quickly learned that all the information was encrypted.
“ Freeze! ” A man shouting, barging through the office door, followed by a couple more guards. “Keep your hands where we can see them and don’t move!”
“Well, you’re obviously not cops, so what’re you planning on doing with me?”
“So how long have you been a member, Stephen?” Warren asked the ex-surgeon, as they were waiting for their drinks to be poured at the bar.
“Oh… Gosh, I can’t remember now. A couple of years, perhaps?” Stephen shrugged.
“I’m still so thankful you were able to give my father a few more years, God rest his soul.” Warren said.
“Ah, it’s my pleasu-”
SMASH!!
Logan and a couple of guards could be seen, falling from the sky outside through the windows as he pummelled them like a wild animal. One of the hosts of the event quickly shut the curtains on them, hoping to maintain the civil evening.
“Pay no attention to the minor problem outside. Security is dealing with it. If you would kindly step into the dining room, dinner is about to be served.” He said.
‘Y’know, at times I’m sure I’m the best at what I do, but… at times like this, I wonder why I do it?’ Logan thought to himself as he was fighting the large crowd of thugs outside. He cracked a few ribs and turned to face the ever-growing sea of guards.
FWOOSH!
A smoke grenade suddenly exploded between Logan and the rest of the guards, hiding Logan from their sight. Confused, Logan looked to where it came from, to find Carol waiting on the wall that looped around the building’s perimeter.
“You coming, or what?” Carol asked, throwing down a rope.
“I thought I told you to get Edwards to safety.” Logan said, climbing up.
“I did. But you should know better than to think you can keep me from doing what I wanna do. Did you find anything?” Carol asked as they both jumped down to the other side.
“Do you think you could gain access to your department’s computers and help me do a little digging?” Logan asked as they hid in a nearby alley.
“Not a problem. My government isn’t tryna kill me.” Carol smirked.
“The night’s still young.” Logan pointed out.
“Will he take the bait?” Sebastian Shaw asked, looking through his window. Sebastian Shaw, a member of the Hellfire Club, just like his father. He watched Logan and Carol running into the alley, with a dreadful smirk on his face. Sebastian Shaw had shoulder-length, voluminous black hair and wore a suit that looked very old-fashioned. His shirt had a frilly collar and his suit jacket doubled as a navy cloak. He had mutton chops and a moustache, making him stand out in most crowds. However, the man he spoke to was far more odd to look at.
“You can count on it. The bastard is gullible enough to follow the trail I’ve given him. He’ll be there.” Victor Creed assured him. He had wild, blond hair that grew all around his head like a lion’s mane. His eyebrows were thick and his canines were like fangs. He wore a yellow, fur coat over his shirtless, ripped body and a pair of brown pants.
“You don’t think he can be persuaded to work alongside you, for me?” Sebastian asked.
“Nah. Not a chance.” Victor shook his head.
“Then do what must be done. This one man jeopardises everything I've worked so hard to accomplish.” Sebastian instructed.
“The entire inner circle is within my grasp. And after all, it is imperative that the existence of mutants isn't made public until I and my compatriots are ready to act decisively. This entire operation has turned into a clusterfuck . Salvage what you can and clean up the rest.” Sebastian instructed.
“Can't think of anyone I'd rather clean up, Mr. Shaw. That little guy killed my brother (see Wolverine: The Origin II for that backstory) - we have a major score to settle.” Victor said before large claws protruded from his fingertips like long, narrow knives.
The next day, near the Canadian border, Logan, Stephen and Carol had arrived at an old warehouse. Inside it was filled with machinery. Carol was wearing a black shirt and pants, holding out a gun and Logan was wearing a dark grey hoodie and a pair of grey pants, holding a massive knife. Stephen, on the other hand, was wearing his normal blue robes and cape.
“You think this is the place, Logan?” Carol asked.
“Yeah, you did a good job. I can feel it in my bones… but I don't like the way this smells.” Logan warned her.
“Why do I think you’re not speaking metaphorically?” Stephen asked, concerned.
“‘Cause I ain't. The whole place reeks of blood.” Logan said.
“Well, ain't you the sensitive type?” Victor’s voice growled - but he had yet to be seen. “From what Clara told me, I thought you would savour the coppery taste in the air.” He continued.
“Creed…” Logan realised, eyes widening. “Carol, Stephen. Leave now.” He instructed.
“Nah! Let them watch. This is gonna be fun.” Victor said. Logan opened a door, only to find Doctor Edwards’ corpse stuck to the other side. Metal bolts had pinned his hands to it, crucifix style but somehow even more morbid.
“Edwards?” Logan gasped.
“You got that right, short-stuff. Now let's see how many others you recognise.” Victor’s voice chuckled, creepily. As they walked further into the dark room, they saw more bodies bolted to the wall.
“Now I’m sure you know Hallorman and Malcolm from back at the Defence Ministry. There are a lot of powerful people that wanted you dead. You have no idea what a magnificent operation this was going to be.” Victor said, sounding disappointed. “These other three? I don’t think you know them and I guess you never will. They were working on the U.S. side of the operation. So many minds were put to this thing and you, you mischievous, annoying little troll, ran it into the ground.”
“You’re only making me feel proud.” Logan smirked.
“I had made it! Even thought about bringing you in. It was always supposed to be about people like you and me. Now it’s just gonna be about me!” Victor said, angrily. “Can’t say I’m gonna lose any sleep over killing you, though. You and your colourful friends. You will all die and the people I work for will start building it all up again.” He said, before his claws reached out from the darkness and grabbed Carol by her hair pulled her towards him. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit that had a really puffy, bushy mane around the neck - as if to extend his already wild hair and sideburns. His jumpsuit was skintight, showing off every muscle he had, with black stripes running through his arm and abs. He wore black boots, which had puffy tufts coming from the top, to go with his wild theme.
“GaaARGH!” She cried out.
“Let her go, Creed! This is between you and me!” Logan shouted.
“Yeah, but this is a lot more fun.” Victor sneered. “I want you to be at your fighting best. I want you to go wild like you used to. Figure you’re going to need a little inspiration. A little blood spilled on the floor might be just what you need. While you’re fighting me, you can think about how you couldn’t save her!” Victor snarled. Stephen thought about using his magic against him, but he didn’t want to risk Creed killing her as a result of it.
“I don’t need anybody saving me!” Carol said angrily, kicking Victor backwards and slipping away from Victor’s grip. “Kill him if you want, Logan, but do it for yourself!” Carol added.
“That’s it, Logan. Kill me.” Victor growled. Stephen started conjuring some magic, but Logan grabbed his arm, stopping him.
“No, Strange. I need to do this myself.” Logan told him. “But not before you tell me what this is all about.” Logan said, approaching Victor with his knife.
“Sure, I’ll tell you. But you need to admit something first.” Victor said.
“And what’s that?”
“Admit what you are.” Victor instructed.
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on! You go running around looking into all this mutant shit. But you won’t admit to anyone, even yourself, why you’re doing it!” Victor pointed out.
“Wait, you mean admitting I’m a mutant? I’ve already admitted that.” Logan scoffed, awkwardly.
“Yeah, he told me a couple of days ago.” Carol nodded.
“He didn’t have to tell me.” Stephen added, casually. Victor growled, before grabbing Logan by his shirt and throwing him across the room.
“Then you’ve already come to the realisation. You’ve seen yourself in the mirror and realised you’re different from everybody else? That scares you, doesn’t it?” Victor asked, knowingly. “That’s where you and I are unalike. I’m proud to know I’m different. ‘Cause I know I’m better than the unevolved . Better than your two mongrels. That’s why it’s so easy to kill them. We are mutants, Logan. Unfortunately in a couple of minutes, I’ll be the only mutant alive in this room.” Victor continued.
“God, will you shut up! Just tell me why a group of mutants like the Hellfire Club would want other mutants dead?!” Logan asked, standing back up.
“Dead?! That’s what you think this is about? You think the people I work for were bothering to track down and gather mutants, just to kill them?” Victor said, laughing, before earning a punch across the face by Logan.
“Then what?!” Logan barked, angrily.
“You shoulda read Edwards’ book. He got it spot on. Sides are being drawn up for the future. Armies of mutants are going to be formed.” Victor explained, slashing his claws towards Logan, but the Wolfish Man quickly dodged.
“Oh, come on. Super-powered mutant teams? That might be the most ludicrous thing you’ve said yet.” Logan scoffed.
“It’s not ludicrous, it’s reality. My employers wanted to make sure they had one of the first and one of the best. That’s why they picked me up. You and your partner were on somebody’s list. But it was some farm team down in the States. Your partner was contacted by my people and turned down the offer. He learned the hard way that it was a once-in-a-lifetime offer.” Victor explained.
“So it was you who killed Neil.” Logan said as blood boiled through his veins. And in just a few seconds, Logan lunged at Victor with his knife and plunged it deep into Creed’s chest. A howl of pain pierced through the quiet warehouse as blood sprayed all over the shorter mutant. For years after, Carol and Stephen weren’t ever sure if it was a cry of pain from Victor Creed or one of bestial rage emerging from the depths of Logan’s soul. Eventually, the sound died down and the brief battle was over. Victor crashed to the ground with a loud thud.
“What do we do now? Do we take what we learned to the public?” Carol asked, unsure. Logan wasn’t sure what the answer was.
“No.” Stephen said. “Unless you want the streets filled with riots and people hunting down mutants like you’re witches. Trust me when I say, I’m lucky people chose to see me as a hero and not a demon.” He explained.
“He’s right. That’s not a world I want to be responsible for creating.” Logan sighed.
“Ain’t that sweet, Logan…” Victor croaked, rolling onto his back. Carol loaded her gun, bracing for whatever the unhinged mutant had planned.
“But you ain’t gonna have to worry about living in this world anymore. I’m taking you down with me.” Victor said with a voice that sounded hysterical as he opened up the front of his jumpsuit. There was a bomb strapped to his stomach - beneath the stab wound.
“Oh shit. Get down!” Carol shouted before the blast suddenly erupted. Stephen managed to throw up a shield, but Carol was still partially caught by the fire that blasted out.
One month later…
“How’re you doing, Carol?” Logan asked over the phone, as Carol was sitting at a desk, looking bored and fed up.
“I’m still recovering.” Carol sighed.
“In that safehouse, still?” Logan asked.
“Yeah. They have me tucked away in here while I nurse my wounds. I’m going crazy, I hate doing nothing. I owe you and Strange for dragging me out of that inferno, though, so thanks again. How about you?” Carol asked.
“Eh, I’ve always been a quick healer. Your people went through the ruins, right?” Logan asked.
“Yeah, but they didn’t find him. There’s not even a trace that Victor was there.” Carol answered, concerned.
“Yeah. That doesn’t surprise me.” Logan sighed.
“What’s our next move?”
“Nothing. Nobody will believe it. I’m not sure you believe it and you were there. It sounds like something out of a comic book. Besides, my rep with my agency is trashed now. They get all pissy when you start talkin’ conspiracy in the Defence Ministry. Considering I busted into Department H and the Hellfire Club, I’m lucky to not be in jail. I think all we can do is get on with our lives and see what the world has in store for us.” Logan explained.
“I don’t know if I can do that, Logan. Somebody in one of our governments has got to listen. Has got to care. I say we find someone in either of our governments… someone we can trust . And get them to look at what we’ve found. I’ve heard good things about a freshman senator who seems on the up and up. His name is Kelly. This seems like the kind of thing he’d be willing to help with.” Carol suggested.
“Do what you think is right, Carol. But don’t let it rule your life. Me… I’m going to head off to the Yukon and try to forget that mutants even exist.” Logan told her.
“Maybe in a few years, it’ll all have blown over. Teams of super-powered mutants? Even I think that’s far-fetched.”