Chapter 76: Logan Howlett
Back at Umbrella.
Matthew's first order was to have the research division run a full battery of physical examinations and genetic testing on Nikki, looking to understand what was happening inside her and, ideally, find a way to put it to use.
While Umbrella began arranging the examinations, someone else's eyes opened.
At the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, Charles Xavier, known as Professor X, slowly raised his head.
The following day.
A dark blue vintage car rolled through the streets of New York.
Inside, Logan sat with a lit cigar between his teeth, one hand on the wheel, face carrying the specific expression of a man who had been mildly annoyed since before he got in the car. In the passenger seat, Ororo Munroe, Storm, looked out at the city around them with complete calm.
"Logan. Did the Professor explain the target clearly?"
"Yeah." Logan took a pull on the cigar and let the smoke out. "Nikki. First flagged at an orphanage near Manhattan. After her ability activated, she was taken into Umbrella Corporation."
"Honestly, I don't understand why you're here. A task like this, I can handle alone."
"Does he think I can't manage something this straightforward?"
"The Professor always has his reasons." Storm shrugged. "And you can treat me like I'm not here if you want. You're the one who thinks this is nothing."
The car drifted forward.
Smoke poured steadily out of the cracked window, enough that the car looked like something was burning inside it.
"Logan. Could you ease up on the cigar? There are other people in this car."
"You said to treat you like you're not here."
Storm said nothing for a moment.
"I am correcting that statement. Inside the car, you are required to acknowledge I exist."
"Also, not everyone has your healing ability. The rest of us can still get lung cancer from secondhand smoke."
"Fine, it's done anyway." Logan took the last draw, stubbed the cigar out, and placed it in the ashtray.
Traffic. Unavoidable in any city.
Logan and Storm came to a stop in it.
Logan rolled his window down and looked at the car beside him. "What's happening up there?"
The driver looked left and right, then pointed at himself.
"You talking to me?"
"...Unless it's the dog in your passenger seat."
"Woof! Woof!" The German Shepherd on the seat heard itself mentioned and stood up with immediate enthusiasm.
"Hey! Bella! Sit!" The driver called it down. Once the dog had settled, he answered. "Up ahead? Looks like Spider-Man's handling the Devil's Gang."
"The Devil's Gang?" Logan stuck his head out the window to look.
The line of stopped cars stretched too far. He couldn't see anything.
"How do you know what's happening up there? I can't see a thing."
"Well..." The man drew it out and turned his radio up.
Logan heard the broadcast carrying over from the other car.
[The avenue remains congested. Devil's Gang members continue arriving in numbers. Spider-Man appears to be under pressure.]
[Oh! The situation has changed! Look who just showed up! Our hero! Tony Stark! Iron Man!]
"You don't listen to the radio when you drive?"
Logan said nothing.
"That is one embarrassing nickname," he said finally.
Storm, beside him, said quietly: "I think it's better than Wolverine."
"Is that right. What about Storm? You think that's not embarrassing?"
With Iron Man entering the picture, the situation ahead resolved itself. Traffic opened back up before long.
As the car eased forward, Logan glanced over at a German Shepherd that had turned around in its seat and was staring at him with sustained intensity. He looked away with a resigned twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Anyone watching from outside would think the two of them had just taken some kind of oath of brotherhood.
The car moved on.
A few minutes later, Logan passed the scene. Devil's Gang members were kneeling in a row on the street, hands behind their heads, with NYPD officers already moving in to process them.
Logan's gaze went down the line of them.
Something settled into his expression.
"Things really do get complicated when the timeline shifts."
"This is what the Professor calls the butterfly effect. All they wanted was to change when the Sentinels showed up. Nobody planned on the rest of it."
"I don't remember there being this many so-called heroes in the world before." He said it mostly to himself.
He didn't spend any more time on the thought. The car kept moving toward the Umbrella Corporation tower.
The vintage car protested loudly when it came to a stop, producing the kind of grinding noise that made nearby teeth clench.
Logan looked up at the Umbrella building catching the light. He and Storm walked toward the front entrance.
On the way in, Logan noticed a man in an iron combat suit standing at the reception desk, talking at the receptionist.
"Come on, come on. The boss and I are friends. I just want to check on an injured friend. You're telling me I need an appointment for that?"
Tony Stark looked at the receptionist, who was shaking her head with complete professionalism, and spread his hands.
"What if I take a photo with you? You let me up, we both win?"
"Mr. Stark... I would very much like a photo with you. But our director is still recovering and isn't seeing visitors. I'm very sorry."
The receptionist declined him for the second time with polished regret.
While Tony continued his negotiation with the front desk, Logan arrived beside him.
"I need to see your boss. What floor?"
The direct approach made Tony and the receptionist both pause and look at this new arrival with the distinctive hair and the equally distinctive jaw-line beard.
Then they both went back to what they were doing.
"I'm sorry, sir." Security Captain Walrus stepped forward from the lobby with the bearing of a man who had been doing this job a while. "Your attire is not in compliance with our entry requirements."
Logan looked to either side.
Then he confirmed that Walrus was, in fact, talking to him.
"My attire?"
"Yes."
Logan looked down at himself with genuine puzzlement.
His clothes were clean. Freshly washed yesterday. His underwear was, as it should be, on the inside.
Where exactly was the problem?
Walrus, apparently reading the confusion, explained: "Sir, you're not wearing formal business attire. That's a requirement for entry."
Logan's brow pulled together. He looked around the lobby.
Sure enough, everyone in the building was in a suit. Except him.
Almost everyone.
"What about him?" Logan looked at Tony.
Tony raised an eyebrow and popped the helmet open. "For your information, I do have a suit on underneath. You just can't see it."
"And stop interrupting my conversation with this young lady."
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