The integration of "Sergeant Logan" into the loose-knit, hard-bitten ranks of the Howling Commandos was, to put it mildly, an exercise in contrasts. The Commandos, led by the tough-as-nails American Captain Samuel "Happy Sam" Sawyer (though he rarely lived up to the moniker) and featuring a motley collection of nationalities and specialties – like the derby-wearing Dum Dum Dugan, the dapper English gentleman Pinky Pinkerton, the Italian-American Gabe Jones, and the taciturn Frenchman Jacques Dernier – were already an unconventional unit. But Logan was something else entirely.
He was introduced as a "specialist attached from Canadian forces, an expert in close-quarters combat and wilderness survival," vouched for by shadowy figures high up in SOE (thanks to Elias's influence as "Mr. Blanchard"). His brooding silence, his feral aura, and the way he seemed to almost radiate danger immediately set him apart. The Commandos, used to eccentrics, still found him deeply unsettling.
"He looks like he chews nails and spits rust, Cap'n," Dum Dum Dugan had muttered to Sawyer after Logan's terse, monosyllabic introduction.
Sawyer, a man who valued results over pleasantries, just grunted. "Long as he can fight, Dugan, I don't care if he sleeps hanging upside down from a tree."
Their first joint operation, orchestrated by Elias through Major Davies, was a raid on a suspected Hydra communications relay station hidden in a remote, mountainous region of occupied Norway. SOE believed it was being used to coordinate U-boat wolfpack attacks in the North Atlantic, but Elias, based on fragments of intel Finch had decoded, suspected it was also a clandestine listening post for Hydra's more esoteric communications, perhaps even monitoring for "unusual energy signatures" or other "persons of interest."
The insertion was by night, via a British submarine surfacing in a freezing fjord. The Commandos, bundled in winter gear, were professionals, their movements practiced and efficient. Logan, seemingly impervious to the bitter cold, moved among them like a phantom, his senses already cataloging the harsh terrain, the scent of pine and snow, the distant howl of a wolf – a sound that brought a flicker of something ancient and wild to his eyes.
The approach to the relay station was a grueling trek through snow-covered mountains. Logan, to the Commandos' grudging admiration, moved tirelessly, often breaking trail through deep drifts, his animalistic stamina evident. He said little, his observations confined to curt warnings about potential ambush sites or the tracks of German ski patrols.
The station itself was a fortified blockhouse, nestled high on a windswept peak, bristling with antennae and machine gun emplacements, manned by elite Alpenkorps soldiers backed by a detachment of SS. A frontal assault would be suicide.
Sawyer laid out a plan for a coordinated attack: Pinkerton and Dernier to create a diversion on the western flank, Gabe Jones (an expert in demolitions) to plant charges on the main generator, while Sawyer, Dugan, and Logan led the primary assault team through a less guarded northern approach.
When the diversionary explosions rocked the western side, drawing a hail of panicked German fire, Logan moved. He didn't wait for Sawyer's signal. He simply launched himself into the darkness towards the northern sentries, a blur of savage motion. The Commandos, expecting a more conventional advance, were stunned.
SNIKT!
The sound of Logan's claws extending, barely audible above the wind and the distant gunfire, was followed by a series_of choked screams and the thud of bodies falling in the snow. Before Sawyer and Dugan could even process what was happening, Logan had neutralized three SS sentries, his adamantium claws leaving terrifying, instantly fatal wounds. He didn't even slow down, continuing his silent, brutal advance into the compound.
"Holy Hannah!" Dugan breathed, staring at the carnage. "What in the blazes is that Canuck?"
Sawyer, despite his shock, was a pragmatist. "Whatever he is, he's clearing a path. Let's move!"
The ensuing firefight was brutal. The Alpenkorps and SS were elite, well-armed troops. But they were unprepared for the sheer ferocity of Logan. He moved through their defensive positions like a force of nature, shrugging off bullet wounds that would have killed any ordinary man (his healing factor working overtime, steaming slightly in the frigid air), his claws reaping a bloody harvest. He wasn't just fighting; he was hunting. The Commandos, initially hesitant, found themselves following in his wake, mopping up the dazed and terrified survivors of his assaults.
Gabe Jones, under the cover of Logan's rampage, managed to reach the generator and plant his charges. The relay station's main power went out with a satisfying crump, plunging the interior into chaotic darkness.
Inside the main communications room, Logan cornered the station commander, an SS Obersturmführer with cold, arrogant eyes. The officer, seeing the blood-soaked, seemingly unstoppable figure advancing on him, fumbled for his Luger. Logan simply backhanded the weapon away, his claws still extended, a low growl building in his chest.
"Talk," Logan rasped. "Hydra. Schmidt. What do you know?" This was Elias's secondary objective, information gathering amidst the chaos.
The SS officer, terrified but indoctrinated, spat defiance. Logan, his patience thin, slammed him against a console. He didn't kill him immediately. He applied… pressure. The kind that loosened tongues.
By the time the Commandos secured the facility, Logan had extracted what little the terrified Obersturmführer knew: garbled references to "The Skull's grand design," a "New Order," and mentions of a "primary research nexus" somewhere in the Bavarian Alps, codenamed "Adlernest" – the Eagle's Nest. The officer had also babbled about "strange artifacts" being brought there, items of immense power that Hydra sought to control.
Elias, receiving this information later via coded report (after the Commandos and Logan had successfully exfiltrated via submarine), felt a thrill of cold certainty. Adler nest. That was where Schmidt would be. That was where the heart of Hydra's power likely resided.
The raid was deemed a resounding success by SOE. A critical communications hub was destroyed, and valuable intelligence (albeit sanitized by Logan before being passed to Sawyer) was recovered. Logan's "performance" was legendary. The Commandos, while still deeply unnerved by him, now held a grudging, fearful respect. He was a damn good man to have on your side in a fight, even if he was clearly several cards short of a full deck and possibly half-animal.
"He ain't human, Cap'n," Dugan later told Sawyer, nursing a mug of hot tea back on the sub. "Saw him take three rounds to the chest, didn't even slow him. And those… things on his hands…"
Sawyer just shook his head. "Don't ask, Dugan. Just thank whatever gods you pray to he's on our side. For now."
For Elias, the operation was a qualified success.
[Key HYDRA Comms/Intel Node Neutralized. Valuable Intel Acquired (Adlernest/Schmidt). Unique Combat Data (Wolverine vs. Elite SS/Alpenkorps – Arctic Conditions) Acquired. Conduit Integration +1.5%. Loyalty (Wolverine): +2% (Total: 39.5% – Successful Application of Lethal Force/Intel Extraction). Analysis for "Feral Striker" (Tier 2) Template: Significant Progress.]
[Prime Essence Shard Echo Acquired: +0.3 Shard Fragment (from neutralized SS Obersturmführer – minor experimental enhancements/occult taints detected). Total Shards: 2.8/5.0.]
They were getting closer to Schmidt. Logan was proving adaptable, if brutally so, to working with a team, and his unique abilities were yielding irreplaceable results. The Howling Commandos, with Sergeant Logan in their midst, had just become Elias Thorne's most effective, if deeply unconventional, tool for striking directly at the shadowy heart of Hydra. The howl had been well and truly loosed among the dogs of war.