[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 #3:[/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]
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Logan tossed his bullet-ridden, blood-soaked clothes into the dumpster. Every inch of his body burned as his wounds worked to close themselves. Each bullet slowly wormed its way out of his skin, plopping out onto the asphalt with an undignified splat. It hurt damned near as much coming out as it did going in, these days. His healing factor just wasn't as sharp as it used to be half a decade back. Could'a been age, maybe. Or one of those 'mental blocks' Chuck used to drone on about. Maybe he could try sitting cross-legged and contemplating about the universe to slow the bleeding.

He pulled on a grease-stained pair of jeans and a torn up flannel he'd bought off the vagrant sitting on the opposite side of the alley. The old man gave Logan a toothy grin as he lit up one of Logan's cigarettes. He was loathe to be parted with the pack, truth be told, but nicotine withdrawal was better than drawing attention to himself by stumbling around stark naked in the most expensive part of NYC. Logan didn't need SHIELD sniffing at his heels right now. Not with these new players on the scene.

It'd been a long time since he'd seen hardware as advanced as what that shooter was packing. That armor of his was mighty impressive to stand up to Logan's claws for as long as it did. The bitch still went down in the end, of course; but he had a sneaking suspicion he was only the start of a much larger mess. Nobody with that much firepower worked alone. "The hell were they after, though?" He mumbled to himself, buttoning up all but the top two buttons on his new shirt. "Gotta be the politician but-"

He paused, glancing back at the only other person in the alley. The homeless man was staring at him with a look Logan had seen often enough to know it meant 'go the fuck away already.' So with a final wave Logan bid his adieu and jogged back into the street proper. He was maybe three blocks away from the pub where this whole mess began. NYPD goons were crawling through the streets now, searching building by building for anyone who knew anything about what went down. Nobody saw him slip into the alley unless they were watching the rooftops. Not impossible, he reckoned, but unlikely.

If Logan wanted to learn more he needed to go to the woman at the center of it all: Valerie Cooper.[/indent]
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[indent]It was three AM. Several hours had gone by since the shooting at the Lion's Head Pub, leaving the heat at only a dull simmer. Logan slipped past the graveyard shift cops guarding the bar. He combed the site for several minutes until he found what he'd come back for: Cooper's trail. It was easy enough to track her movements following the attack. She spent quite awhile at the Pub talking to the authorities and being treated by paramedics. Afterward she hopped in a car and visited the police precinct, likely to give a more complete statement, and finally ended her journey back home. 

Representative Valerie Cooper lived in a middle-income apartment building on the edge of her district. Her place was a small, one bedroom unit on the fifth floor. Two cop cars were parked on the street in front of her building. A round-bellied officer with greying whiskers and a retreating hairline leaned against the vehicle, sipping a cup of coffee and stared bleary-eyed into the darkness. His partner was flat-out asleep in the car, earbuds in his ears blaring a superhero interview by WHIH Newsfront. He doubted the cops inside were much better. So much for police protection.

Logan decided to take the indirect approach. He slipped into the alley alongside the apartment building and climbed up the fire escape to the fifth story, silent as a cat despite his weighty metal skeleton. Once he reached Cooper's window he slipped a single claw from between his third and fourth knuckle, jimmying it between the window and its seal. The adamantium cut through the lock with a smooth flick of the wrist. [i]'Still got it,'[/i] he grinned to himself, peeling the window open to get inside.

He was greeted by a baseball bat smashing his nose in.

"Christ-" He started to shout, barely stopping himself from waking the whole damned block with his yelping. Logan grabbed the bat with the hand that wasn't holding his broken nose and tore it from his attacker's hands. Cooper was standing with her back to the wall next to the window, her jaw set in a vicious snarl. She was ready to shout for help right before a look of recognition crossed her face.

"The guy from the bar?!" She gasped, astonished.

"Yeah." Logan coughed, spitting a wad of blood onto the carpet. She'd got him good. "Please don't hit me again." He shoved the bat back into her hands.

Valerie took it, more confused than angry now. Her shoulders were still tensed in preparation for violence. Understandable, given the intruder standing her bedroom in the dead of night. "What the hell are you doing in my house? How are you even [i]alive[/i]? You- you were shot half a dozen times before you ran off."

He didn't answer her right away. Instead he paced around the room, waiting for the cartilage in his nose to shift around a little more before grabbing the thing and twisting it back into place with a sickening snap. The pain that shot through his face brought with it a series of curses. After a moment's pause he turned to Cooper. "Death n' me got an understandin'." Logan lifted the hem of his shirt to show the faded remains of a bullet hole in his stomach. "Part'a my mutation, see."

Things started to click into place in Valerie's mind. Her expression shifted as she lowered the bat, finding a seat on the edge of her bed. "You're a mutant. Right. Of course." She took a long, deep breath to calm her nerves. 

Logan waited patiently for her to process the situation, finding his own seat on the opposite side of the room- a chair at a small desk shoved up into the corner. He turned the writing lamp on to give them some light. He hoped it made him look less like a wild animal that had barged into her home to piss in her closet and tear up her curtains.

"Considering you saved my life earlier I'm guessing you're not here to kill me." She finally said, looking him directly in the eyes. There was a steely determination there Logan hadn't expected. "And you came through the window instead of the front door because you're avoiding the authorities, right? Those federal agents that questioned me seemed a hell of a lot more interested in you than the gunman."

"SHIELD's been on my ass for a long time. Don't think they like me much." Logan half snarled, half laughed. "You got any idea who's gunning for you? Have many enemies?"

It was Cooper's turn to laugh. "Try the president, the majority party in Congress and half the country." She shook her head, running a hand through her mess of hair. "I knew taking such a strong stance against the MCA would paint a target on my back. You have no idea how many death threats I get. Every time I leave my house or the office I need private security with me so some asshole doesn't get into my face." 

"Sounds tough." Logan murmured, scratching his knuckles. "I know what its like 'ta always be lookin' over your shoulder. 'S not an easy way to live."

"Probably wouldn't be so scary if I was immortal." She smirked, glancing down at Logan's hand.

"Yeah." He coughed, looking away. "So let's narrow down our suspects. The guy who shot at ya had kit like I've never seen before. Real tough of the line shit. Ain't the kind of thing a lone radical could put together unless he was a millionaire, n' this guy was a nobody s'far as I can tell."

"Anti-mutant extremism is on the rise again. Hasn't been this bad since the 80s." Cooper leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. "I had my comms director trace a few of the more credible threats I've received. At least a dozen of them track back to a Neo-Nazi biker gang based in Harlem, the Seven Kings. I put in a report to the NYPD but nothing came of it as far as I know."

"Nazi bikers?" Logan raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, the Venn diagram between white supremacists and anti-mutant radicals is essentially a circle. They might not be responsible for this attack in particular but extremists tend to network. Could be they know something." Cooper shrugged. "Best lead I have for you."

Logan stood up and started for the window. "Guess I'm havin' a word with some bikers."
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