Marvel Genesis: Winter Wolverine, Chapter 26- The Hunted, Part 5

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The Impersonator

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#1  Edited By The Impersonator

SOME OF THE LOGOS, CHARACTERS AND SETTINGS ARE THE PROPERTY OF MARVEL, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Rated M for Mature

Appropriate for readers 18 and over. May contain extreme violence, sexual themes, nudity, or profanity.

Note- This series takes place after the events of Marvel Genesis: Wolverine, Chapter 80- The Winter Soldier, Part 10.

https://comicvine.gamespot.com/forums/fan-fic-8/marvel-genesis-wolverine-chapter-80-the-winter-sol-2127754/

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Marvel Genesis: Winter Wolverine, Chapter 26- The Hunted, Part 5

By using sources of information from the criminal underworld, both Remy and Derek have learned that a woman named Sophie Anakova was involved in the buyer's death. Just recently, she had been seen with another man, who turned out to be the actual killer.

Derek got frustrated alright. He figured that eventually the police would come to know that he and the mutant thief, were also behind the crimes. Not to mention their thieving ways.

"We got to stop them," Derek said. Then he faced his friend, seriously. "Don't get any bright ideas, Remy. I know you're into women. But..."

"She's hot," Remy said, looking at the picture. "Don't you say?"

"Yeah... I was afraid you would say that." Derek looked both sides of the street after arriving from the criminal underworld. Remy was given a picture from the informant that he and Derek had spoken to earlier. Even though Sophie was considered as a professional killer, the Cajun mutant kept staring at it. Derek sighed.

"Who's the other man?" Remy asked his friend.

"His name is Burt Lukav. I'm guessing these people are some sort of undercover agents for the Soviet thing. The hell should I know."

"I see..." Remy said thoughtfully. "Well then, we'll look for them."

"Yeah..." Derek said. "Let's get out of here. I'm gonna borrow my friend's car."

"How many friends you have here?" Remy said.

"A lot," Derek smiled. He hopped into the car, and turned the engine on. Remy sat on the passenger seat.

"We've got to be careful with them," Derek said. "They're professional killers. I bet the buyer was killed for a very good reason. Whatever that is."

"You don't say," Remy said, still looking at the picture. Derek drove the car away.

"Yeah..." Derek said. "But this is serious, Remy. We'll have to kill them, no matter what. Imagine if they find us. What would you do?"

Remy didn't say anything to that. But he figured he could handle them easily. Despite the fact that these Soviet agents looked tough, they had a track record of taking down their enemies in secret. Probably, not in front of the Cajun mutant anyways. Remy smiled and said, "They don't look tough to me."

Derek wanted to laugh at the thought of it. "Don't get too cocky. Remember the last time you tried to beat that informant of the Immortals Guild? Man, he got skills."

Remy remembered it alright. The informant was getting paid to cover the tracks of the Immortals Guild. That way, the police couldn't find out about the location of their hideout and the murders.

"Anyways..." Derek said. "I got some ammo in the compartment. If they come after us, I'll shoot them."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"We're not killers."

"Oh... That's how it is." Derek stopped the car on the side of the street. Then he looked at the Cajun mutant. "Listen, Remy. If this thing blows, our life is over. You want that?"

Remy shook his head. "No, I won't have it anyway. But killing ain't my style."

"Okay... But these people are killers. Right? If we don't kill them, they're gonna kill us. Either way, it's a big problem. Okay, mon ami?"

"Hey!" Remy said. "Can't use my language."

"Sorry, my habit." Derek grinned and continued driving, when another vehicle stopped them.

"Jesus Christ!" Derek honked the car, twice. "Hey! Get out of the..." He paused when two people got out of their vehicle and fired. Both thieves took cover.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

The sleeper agents kept firing at them, and then stopped. Burt Lukav said to his female partner. "Go and check the car." Sophie nodded and went towards the slightly-damaged vehicle. Then Remy charged his card and threw it at her face. The woman screamed.

'F***!" Burt cried out loud, and then ran away from them. Remy saw the woman's body and said, "Sorry, mon chéri. Didn't mean that."

"Christ!" Derek said, looking at his mutant friend. "You okay?"

"Fine," Remy said. "But I just killed a beautiful lady. Happy now?"

Derek sighed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Detective Sarah Kinney had her hands full. She was currently working at the Homicide Division of New York along with Thomas Kane. But Thomas had another case to deal with. After all, he was too busy in finding the mutant killer of his wife's death. Sarah sighed and looked at the files on the recent murders of the buyer named Freddie Johnson. Freddie used to work with the Kingpin back in the days of being a hitman. She scrolled down the pages, and found something interesting about the case.

Hmm... That's strange, Sarah thought. Says here, the guy was hired to kill the Soviets back in the Cold War. How old was he? She kept scrolling down, and learned that Freddie was raised in Russia after being orphaned at the end of World War 2. It sounded unbelievable, even for the female detective.

"Hey, Sarah," Thomas said, while getting up from his desk. "Need some coffee?"

"No, thanks. How's your case going?"

"Still working on it. I'm getting more murders about that damn mutant."

"Sounds to me you don't like mutants."

"I don't have to like them," Thomas said. "Besides, they give me the creeps." He thought of his mutant partner, Sandra Weirs who just recently left the Homicide Division after a tragic case. But he figured that he could exclude her from his hatred towards mutants.

"Oh, I see," Sarah said. "Then you're a mutant phobic."

"A what?"

"Mutant phobic," Sarah repeated. "You know... Fear of mutants?"

"But... I'm not afraid of them."

"Hmm..." Sarah said thoughtfully. "I'm not sure about that. But it does sound like it. Have you ever faced him before?"

Thomas remembered two years ago that he had to face Snake alone at one time. But he wasn't sure about it. After all, Snake was a mutant who had hypnotic powers. The mutant used them to control his victims to do anything he wanted. Much as the likes of Purple Man. But this mutant was far more dangerous than any other superhuman criminal in New York City.

"Um..." Thomas said. "Listen... I gotta go." He closed the door, and left Sarah to her own devices. She sighed, and looked back at the picture of Freddie Johnson.

------------------------------------------------------

If ya ask me, I have been shot by the red bullets a hundred times already. That is because I was a wild mutant before I became the damn Winter Soldier. Then again, who knew that I, a Canadian mutant would become one. It was a sad fact, which went down in superhuman history.

The eggeheads have discovered this rare element back in my world. So, I am guessin' this world ain't much different. But the only difference was that Bucky became the first Winter Soldier. Not me. Not my version. He was part of Project X in this world. That is fer sure.

Anyways, I found myself in some warehouse, which led me to believe that I was captured by the damn, sleeper agents. Grigori Sovchencko and... Let me think fer a few seconds here because I was shot by the damn bullets, some f***in' hours ago. Yes, it was... Yuri Medvedev, also known as Confessor. Wanna know why he was called that codename? Because he forced others to confess the things they did not wanna say about anythin' else. But I think his name should be the Interrogator if ya ask me. Yes, that should be right. But I do not care what name he was usin' right now. Confessor or the Interrogator... Why should I care? The only thing I have to worry about is to get outta this f***in' mess, and beat those b@$t@rd$ like hell. But these guys were tough, just like the Cajun mutant had said earlier. And ya know what? They could kill me as many times as they wanted. But these bullets... They gave me much pain than eva. Most likely, I will die if they keep shootin' everywhere on my body. Chances are that I may not come back alive from this one. But who knows? That is what I wanna know about it. In fact, the Soviet X eggheads have tried that damn experiment on me, a couple of times before. And guess what? I was dead for two f***in' hours. Two! Can ya believe that?

As fer the Cajun mutant, he was still unconscious on the chair, after bein' tied up with tight ropes. Eventually, he will come around and face these b@$t@rd$. I was still awake, and tried to unleash my right, adamantium claws. But the pain prevented me. I bet these sleeper agents did not take the bullets right off my hairy skin. Damn that hurts.

"Hello, Logan," the Confessor said.

"Hello, Mr. Nice Guy," I said. "You sure knew how to welcome yer guests in yer damn hellhole."

"What language," The Confessor said. "Perhaps, you should know that I intended for both you and Remy to be captured alive. That way, I would know where you came from, and who sent you here."

"Like I give a damn about sayin' anythin' to ya."

"Hmm... Maybe, we should do this the hard way. Grigori." The Ghost Maker arrived behind my back. Yes. I knew he was there alright. I could smell him. But he just stood there, waitin' fer the right oppertunity to strike me. After all, he was also sent to kill me. Damn that Soviet X.

He pulled out his favorite weapon, and stabbed me on the gut.

"WRAAAAAAOOH!"

"Painful, isn't it?" The Confessor said. "Now then... Question 1: Who sent you?"

"I ain't gonna tell ya, f***in' d***head."

The Confessor felt silent fer a while, and then he laughed.

"I was right about you. You are a wild mutant. Isn't that so, Grigori?"

"Yes," the Ghost Maker replied.

"Let's try it again. Shall we? Who sent you?"

"Shut the f*** up," I said.

The Confessor sighed. "Grigori..."

The Ghost Maker nodded and continued his torture. It felt so painful that I had to scream out loud. At this point, nobody could hear my wild screams of pain.

"Let's try this the other way," the Confessor said. "Let's see... Hmm... Where do you come from?"

Heh! At least I can answer that question. But the thing is they probably knew where I came from. So, I told them anyways.

"Interesting... Another world, you say. Okay, that was not bad. Was it?"

There was a moment of silence. I could see Remy wakin' up from the chair. And here I was, waitin' fer him to do somethin' like a card trick. Unfortunately, he looked pretty tired if ya ask me. Not to mention, he must have lost lotta blood.

"He is waking up," Grigori said. The Confessor looked at the Cajun mutant, and walked towards him.

"Had a nice nap?"

"Where..." The Cajun mutant said slowly. "Where am I?"

"That does not matter, Mr. LeBeau." the Confessor said. "I have tried to ask your wild friend here, certain questions that I wanted to know. Unfortunately, he was stubborn. Am I right, Logan?" He looked at me and smiled.

"You betta hope I would kill ya right here because..." The Ghost Maker stabbed me again.

"WRAAAAOOOH!"

"Stop that!" Remy said out loud. "Just stop..."

"Oh..." The Confessor said, lookin' back at the Cajun mutant. "Why would that be?"

Remy didn't say anything else. He just stared at him, probably gettin' angry at the fact that he was beaten by the f***in' Ghost Maker.

"You look tired, Mr. LeBeau," the Confessor kept tauntin' him. "Perhaps, we should play a game here. What do you say? Eh?" He looked at me again.

Great! He wanted to play a f***in' game. Now was not the time to fool around here. If I could cut these ropes with my right, adamantium claws, then...

I stopped when Remy suddenly smiled at me. I wonder why he did that. Assumin' he had a card trick up his sleeve. But who knows? I could tell he had somethin' in mind. So, I had to wait fer the right moment.

"Why are you smiling, Mr. LeBeau?" The Confessor asked him.

"Because I'm happy," Remy replied.

"Happy?" The Confessor said, soundin' confused. "Happy about what?"

"Dis." Remy took out a small, sharp object and then stabbed the Confessor in his right eye. The assassin cried out in pain. The object was already charged after Remy must have cut the ropes with it. Then he got up.

"No!" The Confessor cried out loud. He tried to get the object outta his eye, but...

BOOM!

"You b@$t@rd!" The Ghost Maker cried in anger. He wielded his precious katana, and then attacked the Cajun mutant. Remy may be in bad shape, but I am sure that he could still handle the Russian assassin. If only I could...

"WRAAAAAAAAAAAOOOH!"

I finally cut the damn ropes and went after the Ghost Maker, despite the pain. He turned around, kickin' me on the head. Remy punched him, once. The Russian assassin looked at him angrily, and punched his face. I slashed him on the back. He cried in pain.

Eventually, this guy might be tough to beat down. But we ain't gonna give up. Remy used his karate moves to hit him, several times. This time, the Ghost Maker went down, lettin' go of his damn katana. Remy picked it up, and pointed towards his neck.

"Any last words?" Remy said. He grew furious alright. I had neva seen him like this before. It must be somethin' that I did not know about.

The Ghost Maker did not reply anythin' back to the Cajun mutant. He held a small device in his hands, and pressed it.

"$h!t!" I said out loud. Both Remy and I ran towards the window, and then smashed together when the warehouse exploded behind us. We fell down.

After a few minutes, I got up and looked at the warehouse. The Ghost Maker was f***in' insane. He thought he could kill us together, includin' himself. A suicide mission, if ya ask me.

"Oh..." Remy said painfully. I looked at him, and noticed he lied down on the top of a car.

"You okay, bub?"

"You think I look okay?" Remy said. "Man, my back hurts."

To be continued in Marvel Genesis: Winter Wolverine, Chapter 27- The Hunted, Part 6.

Well, it looks like the two assassins are dead. Now what? Find out in the next chapter of Winter Wolverine. Okay, bub. There are still more where they came from. SNIKT!