The drive to Winnipeg is long and dull, but even taking back roads to stay off of the more heavily patrolled Trans-Canada Highway, we’re making good time. Veering north to go around Calgary added more time than I’d like, but we made up for it once we crossed into Saskatchewan. The pace of our little road trip is gonna be a difficult one to manage. Try to go too fast, and we draw too much attention to ourselves. But we’ve only got four days now to get to Westchester. If we’re still out here on day five, and he catches up with us…
"So those guys on the radio,” Kitty begins yet another attempt at getting a conversation going,
"talking about what’s been going on with the super-heroes? That got me thinking.”"’Super-heroes?’” I ask, scoffing a little at the corny-sounding term.
"Yeah, you know,” she continues,
"after Superman, that guy in Metropolis? There’s a few more of them running around now– the Flash in Central City, the Spider-Man in New York, that fire guy they’re calling The Human Torch. Haven’t you been paying attention to the news?”"Kid, I live alone in the middle of a forest,” I tell her.
"I go out of my way not to pay attention to the news.”"Right, yeah, sorry,” she nods.
"But it got me thinking. These super-hero people, maybe they’re Mutants like us. Or even if they’re not, they do a lot of the same things we can do. And people aren’t nearly as scared of them as they are of us. So….why don’t we just, y’know, be super-heroes?”"You mean Mutants in general, or you an’ me in particular?”"Either, both, I don’t know,” Kitty says,
"but think about it! There are so many of us who feel like we have to hide who we are, act like we’re ‘normal,’ because everyone will freak out if they see us use our abilities. But then here comes a guy in a big red cape lifting an overpass over his head, and half the world wants to throw him a parade! So what if, like, we just change the presentation? People aren’t afraid of Superman because he’s out in the open, where everyone can see him, he’s not hiding who and what he is. So why don’t we do that?”I sigh.
"It’s a nice thought,” I tell her,
"and I know there’s more than a few Mutants who’d agree with ya. Big flashy costumes, masks, code-names, give the public something friendly to cheer for and maybe they’ll trust you. But I’ll guarantee ya, that Superman guy, that Flash, that Spider-Man? They’re out in the open right now because they don’t know what kinda people are gonna notice them. The people after you, I’ll bet you good money they’re already workin’ on ways to bring in every one of them and make them into…well, someone like me. And for every super-type who puts on a mask so they can pull cats outta trees, there’s ten more who’ll put on a mask to do things they’d never show their face doing. I oughta know.”"What do you mean by….ohmygod, do you have your own costume?!” Kitty’s eyes light up.
"That’s so cool! Why didn’t you tell me you were already a super-hero?”"Because I’m not,” I grunt.
"I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly built for helpin’ old ladies across the street. I was a soldier, not a boy scout.”There’s a long pause while Kitty thinks, then finally counters
"You can be both. Ever read the old comics about Captain America?”"Hate you break it to ya, kid, but comic books are just comic books,” I tell her.
"Captain America’s just a story, Steve wasn’t….” I trail off, wondering where the hell I pulled that name from.
”’Steve?’” Kitty raises an eyebrow.
”Who’s Steve?””...I don’t know,” I say.
The air smells like spent gunpowder, churned earth, and fresh blood….
Between the angry snarls of the machine guns, there are voices shouting…some in English, some in German…
My blood is pumping as we charge up the ridge line, only stumbling as I take a stray round that catches me in the chest. I stagger to my knees…and a hand grabs me by the shoulder, pulling me to my feet.
The man in blue gives me a reassuring nod, then he takes his place at the front of the line.
Every one of us, we’d gladly die for that man. Even those of us who can’t…
As we charge towards the enemy, I hear joyous laughter at my side. The man in blue, I’d follow to the gates of Hell. But the man running side-by-side with me, he’d be the first in line, and the last to leave, and then he’d convince me to go back with him…"Logan? You…you all right there?” Kitty nervously nudges my shoulder.
"You, uh, you kinda spaced out.”I blink a few times, shake my head, and I realize my claws are out.
"Yeah, I’m…I’m all right,” I say as I retract them.
"Gotcha,” she says, looking at me skeptically.
"I’ve, erm, I’ve been driving for a while. Think we should pull over for the night?”"Yeah, think so,” I nod.
"Find us somewhere with a land-line phone. I’ll get in touch with Forge and let him know we’ll meet him in the morning.”"Forge? That’s your contact?”"Yeah, he’s the one that’ll get us what we need to get you back into the States,” I answer.
"He’s another Mutant, has a knack for making things. A couple of fake IDs and a new set of wheels should be a walk in the park for him.”"And he’s got a cool code-name,” Kitty says.
"It tells you everything you need to know about the guy in just a word. See what I mean about how useful that is?”I grunt.
"Sooo, you said you’ve got a costume,” she keeps prodding me.
"and you said you’ve got a mask. So what’s your code-name?”
"Wolverine,” said Colonel Rick Flag, displaying the face of a hard-faced man with wild hair and thick stubble,
"I’m sure many of you have already heard the name in your particular line of work, and any stories you’ve heard about him are very likely true.”Floyd Lawton felt a lump in his throat, taking his first look at the face of a man he’d only heard about in legend. Anyone who’d spent any amount of time doing wet-work had heard of the Wolverine, and even though most of the campfire stories surrounding him were decades old, most still considered him the standard by which professional killers measured themselves.
"Birth name unknown, age unknown,” Flag read off the target’s statistics,
"Five foot three, approximately 300 pounds. S.H.I.E.L.D. classifies him as an Alpha-level Mutant. His primary offensive capabilities are with a set of retractable claws, making him extremely dangerous in hand-to-hand combat. Highly enhanced senses means he can see, hear, even smell most targets just as well as state-of-the-art detection equipment, if not better. He can also regenerate damaged tissue near instantaneously. It’s believed this regeneration has extended his lifespan significantly, giving him decades–if not centuries– of combat experience. Field reports also suggest surgical enhancements, including lacing his skeletal system with an advanced meta-material armor resistant to any known weapons.”"Five foot three? Really?” scoffed the red-haired man Flag had identified as Clint Barton, alias ‘Hawkeye.’
"You’re telling me the scariest Mutie alive is a half-pint?”"That’s what you’re focused on?” asked Abner Jenkins, the scrawny, nerdy-looking man that Flag ID’ed as the techno-criminal ‘Beetle.’
"They’re sending us against a bloodthirsty wildman who’s impossible to kill, and you’re cracking short jokes?”Barton shrugged.
"If we can’t kill the guy, I’ll settle for hurting his feelings.”"No one’s ‘impossible to kill,’” growled Benjamin Turner, the assassin known as ‘Bronze Tiger,’
"especially not an unskilled beast. He must have a weakness that we can exploit.”"He’s got armor, enhanced senses, and retractable claws,” listed Eric Needham, the contract killer who went by ‘Black Spider.’
"My combat suit has all that shit and more.”"Any weapon your suit doesn’t have,” added Paul Norbert Ebersol, aka ‘Fixer,’ a skinhead whose face was criss-crossed with surgical lines from cybernetic implants,
"I’ve got covered.”"I didn’t hear him say anything about not needing to breathe,” sneered Christopher Weiss, aka Slipknot.
"All the regenerating meat and unbreakable bones in the world won’t mean a damn thing if I choke him out.”"Not if I fry the bastard first,” said Lester Buchinski, aka ‘Electrocutioner,’ his voice filled with bravado he very clearly wasn’t actually feeling.
"You won’t have the chanssssse,” hissed the short-haired tattooed woman identified as ‘Copperhead.’
"My toxinsss can kill even the ssstrongesst prey…”"Is that hissing a speech impediment thing, or do you just do it for effect?” Hawkeye smirked.
"Enhanced senses,” mused Melissa Gold, the pink-haired metahuman killer who went by ‘Songbird,’
"Probably means he’s vulnerable to sonic attacks. I can have some fun with that.”"An I ‘ave yet to meet ze man who can come back from being blown into ze smizzereens,” grinned Bette Sans Souci, the French-Canadian terrorist who simply went by Plastique.
"That’s all well and good,” Deadshot spoke up,
"but I don’t think we’re addressing the elephant in the room here.”"Forget the elephant,” scoffed Hawkeye,
"How about we address the giant goddamn shark-man in the room first?”"KING SHARK,” said the enormous, hulking form with the head of a great white,
"IS A SHARK.”"Yes, great, thank you,” Lawton nodded,
"but the question is: if the Wolverine has been running around unaccounted for all this time, why are we going after him now?”"Good question,” Flag responded,
"and the answer is you’re not. The Wolverine isn’t the target; he’s just the obstacle. There’s a significant chance you’ll have to engage him, but ultimately all you have to do is keep him busy long enough to apprehend the real target.”The screen showing Wolverine’s face switched to a different image: the face of a skinny brunette girl with a bright smile and her fingers making a peace sign.
"Katherine Anne Pryde,” Flag introduced the target,
"Age eighteen, freshman student at the Massachusetts Academy. Began displaying signs of Mutation at age thirteen, and has dabbled with Mutant Rights activism, including possible contact with radical elements. She’s displayed the ability to make her body physically intangible, occupying the same space as solid matter. This also appears to include objects on her person. S.H.I.E.L.D. currently classifies her as a Beta Level Mutant, but it’s suspected that with further development, she would classify much higher.”"I don’t get it,” Slipknot said,
"Why send us after some schoolgirl who can walk through walls?”"The combat applications for someone like that are tremendous,” Bronze Tiger mused.
"There would be no fortification in the world she couldn’t infiltrate, and no prison she couldn’t escape. If she can extend that ability to a weapon, she could penetrate any armor in the world….or any metahuman. They say the Superman in Metropolis is impenetrable to bullets. With the right training and psychological conditioning, that girl could reach through his invincible skin and pull out his heart.”"Okay, so to recap,” Deadshot said,
"We’re all being pulled out of our holes in the wall to go fight an unkillable assassin, hoping we can distract him long enough to capture an untouchable girl, so the shadow-government can use her to kill demigods. And if we try to run, you blow our heads off.”"A bit reductive,” Colonel Flag nodded,
"But more or less, yeah, that’s right. You’ll be granted access to all of the equipment and weaponry you were captured with, and authorization to use whatever means necessary to bring Pryde in alive and in one piece. Any questions?”The enormous shark-man raised a meaty finned hand.
"Yes, King Shark?”"KING SHARK IS A SHARK!”"Very good. The chopper takes off in sixty. Til then, make whatever preparations you need.”As the members of Colonel Flag’s suicide squad stood and were shuffled to the prison yard where their gear awaited them, Hawkeye nudged Deadshot.
"So,” he said,
"how dead do you think we are?”"Scale of one to ten?” Deadshot did a quick head-count.
"I’d say twelve.”
Retired
Half Pint
Hound55
Cyberlad
mickilennial
Ezekiel
Master Bruce
PrinceAlexus
Pilatus
Chronic
