[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/STnMnpz.jpg[/img][/center][indent][sub][color=ffff00][b]AGE OF MARVELS:[/b][/color][color=#1C86EE] Wolverine[/color][/sub][sup][right][b][color=ffff00]ISSUE #2:[/color][/b] [color=#1C86EE]Logan Goes to Washington[/color][/right][/sup][/indent][hr][indent][color=ffff00][sub][b]Greenwich Village [color=#1C86EE]♦[/color] New York City [/b][/sub][/color][/indent] [indent] Agent Thaddeus Moore swaggered into the crime scene. He chewed thoughtfully on a wad of nicotine gum as he stepped over a pool of blood, careful not to get any on his polished shoes. It was a dingy apartment by all accounts. The TV was a fat box that went out of style in the early aughts. Beneath his feet was a formerly orange carpet that might've been the tackiest thing he'd ever seen. Greenish particulates covered the blinds, giving the room the vague scent of marijuana. And then there was the corpse. He leaned down to examine the body closer. White male in his mid-thirties. His face was freshly shaven and he wore a tight, military-reg haircut. Thaddeus had seen a thousand men just like him in his career. His armor was much more interesting. It was a cutting edge set of powered armored. Exterior shell appeared to be some kind of titanium alloy. Inside was a powered exoskeleton strapped along the arms, legs and side of the dead man. The shell was painted a maroon so dark it was almost black. No serial number or other obvious identifiers, either. "Almost looks like SHIELD assault armor." Moore mused aloud to his partner. Another agent in a similarly expensive suit to Moore's was peering out the shattered window the shooter had fired from. Celia Paddock was shorter than Thaddeus, paper white to his charcoal and had a shock of hair more orange than the carpet. She was scowling as she ran a device along the broken glass on the window, gathering up gunpowder residue for further examination. "The gun ain't SHIELD that's for damn sure," Paddock responded, nodding her head toward the broken firearm leaning against the wall. It was like nothing either of them had ever seen before. Sleek, sophisticated and completely unmarked. The thing may as well have come from Mars for all they could discern of its origin. "So what've we got, Moore? Summarize." Thaddeus took a deep breath to collect himself before speaking his piece. "The shooter took up position in this room roughly four hours prior to the attack on Congresswoman Cooper. The landlord claims the shooter has no relation to the actual tenant. Old lady next door says she buzzed him up because he 'looked nice' and said he forgot his key. He unpacks his weapon, gears up and waits for the rally to start." He stood from the body, making his way to the window. "Waits until Cooper is almost finished speaking to take his first shot. No idea why as of yet. Witness report the Congresswoman was knocked out of the way by a, quote, 'effed up lookin' fella with bad mutton chops-'" "You can say fuck, Moore. Your mom can't spank you anymore." After shooting Paddock a look, Thaddeus continued: "The man took two shots meant for Cooper and seemingly walks it off, no sweat. Then he jumps through the front window of the Lion's Head Pub to make a mad dash across the street. Witnesses report he used bladed weapons to cut the door to the building down and charged up the stairs. That's when things get fuzzy." "No direct witnesses for the actual scuffle," Celia agreed with a nod, crossing her arms. "The old woman across the hall reports hearing several more gunshots and screams. Lots of fucks and shits and insults, too. Guess it took awhile for our shooter to go down." "And mutton chops just vanishes into thin air right after." Moore sighed. "He left behind a lot of blood but no body. And no trail." Celia Paddock pulled out her phone and began tapping out a message to persons unknown. "Doesn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out who we're after. The blood samples'll confirm it but, yeah, this has Logan's stink all over it. He's either gotten bold or sloppy if he's leaving behind this much evidence." Thaddeus looked from Celia back to the corpse. "We need to I.D him, too. The brass will want to know if someone's gunning for the president's political enemies. And given how well equipped this guy was I doubt he was working alone. Might be we have a new Purifiers on our hands." Paddock pulled a cigarette from her jacket pocket and lit it up, much to Thaddeus's disdain. "We got a long fuckin' night ahead of us, Thad, tell you what." [/indent]