Disclaimer: I own nothing...Logan and all other Marvel characters belong to Marvel and 20th Century Fox...Chris Snow, Bobby Holloway, Sasha Goodall, Doogie Houseman, Orson, Roosevelt and Mungojerrie all belong to Dean Koontz...so please don't sue me, cuz i don't have anything...i spent all my tax return buying stuffed monkeys for my sick fiancee...:)

Author's Note: This story was inspired by several different things coming together at the same time...first, i was working on a new Wolverine wallpaper for my computer while listening to Front 242...I had to go to work and took a book with me called "Fear Nothing" by Dean Koontz...the last song i heard was still running through my head, which is called "Headhunter" by the aforementioned band...this story is split into four parts, each part headed by a line from the chorus of the song...now, this is NOT a songfic...Also, this story has NOT been beta read...my usual beta reader, Turiel Tincdaniel, is not familiar with either of the books starring Christopher Snow and the citizens of Moonlight Bay, so she admitted she wouldn't be of any help in regards to characterization or tone of those characters...now, if any of YOU have read those books (which includes "Seize the Night") and would like to beta read the rest of the story, that would be FANTASTIC!

This story takes place after X:2 and "Seize the Night", but before X:3 and is completely unrelated to my other stories...enjoy!

Headhunter

By Rowena DeVandal

Part 1.

"One, you lock the target."

Chapter 1.

I heard the voices before I saw anyone, but you could tell by their cadence an' tone that they were career military, some brand of bigwigs whose idea of "going into combat" meant they sat at a base at least five miles from the actual front an' radioed all their orders in. Hell, they were probably so completely absorbed into the military life that they made their kids drop an' give 'em twenty if a quarter didn't bounce off a freshly made bed. Dickheads, the lot of 'em. Someone please shoot me if I ever get that far.

In the meantime, I've been sittin' in this goddamn exam room so long I'm startin' to wonder what the fuck I'm doin' here. "Random physical" is what they told me, but these assholes should know by now that I don't need a physical. I'm in better shape now than I was fifty years ago and that's sayin' somethin'. Especially considerin' I don't look a day over thirty-five and I probably never will. Well, that's what happens when you're a mutant.

I hear them stop outside the door and lower their voices so I couldn't overhear them. Unfortunately (for them) I have much better hearing than a normal human; in fact, all of my senses are much better than normal humans (silk sheets are enough to drive me crazy with how good they feel). I can also heal from any injury, no matter how severe. I haven't found anythin' that can keep me down forever. That all sounds pretty good, right? Well, I also have a hidden feature, something no one's ever expecting. I have nine-inch claws that come out from between my knuckles on both hands and a tendency to lose myself if I'm enraged. Ya know how they say not to piss off that Banner guy, you wouldn't like him when he's angry? Yeah, the Hulk's a pussy, I'm sure of it.

At any rate, they stop outside my examination room and try to keep me from hearin' their conversation, but I can anyway. I can smell 'em, too; one of 'em is wearin' Old Spice (yeah, he's got kids all right) and the other one smokes the shittiest cigars I've ever smelled (if he's not a bachelor, I pity his wife). I hear 'em shift around a bit, like they don't want to be overheard before they continue their conversation.

"So, why'd we bring this guy in again?"

"I don't know. The top brass said we need to give him a full work-up and collect as many samples as we can without raising his suspicion."

"How are we supposed to know what we're looking for if they won't tell us?"

"Look, Barton, when it comes to shit like this, it's usually better not to ask too many questions. Come on, do you really think they're gonna be able to pull this off anyway?"

"I don't know." Barton replied reluctantly. At least I had a name for one of them. "I mean I know Stryker's got some kind of special project going, but it still doesn't explain some of the weird shit I've seen going on in here."

"Look, just get in there and talk to the guy, the doc'll be in a few minutes later. Just give him the normal bullshit military crap he's expecting and it'll be fine."

There's a long pause and Barton sighs. "I hope you're right. If what I've heard about this guy is even half true, he's a mean son of a bitch."

"Which is probably what Stryker likes about him so much." There's another pause. "I gotta go. Just get in there and get this over with."

I hear the other guy walk away, takin' the shitty cigar smell with him. Great, so Old Spice is my cruise director for this thing. I have a ton of questions that I can't ask, since I wasn't supposed to hear all that anyway, but two of them are more important than the rest. Number one, why was I, a member of the Canadian military, asked to come to Fort Wyvern in California? Number two, why would Stryker, well known as a scientist in weapons development, be interested in me?

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I sat straight up in my bed, swearing. Dreams of bein' in that freaky tank with the Darth Vader wannabes shovin' foot-long needles under my skin I was used to. They still woke me up screamin', but at least they were consistent, predictable. What the fuck was that shit?

I stumbled to the bathroom an' splashed some water on my face. What all did they say? Something about gettin' samples, I remember that. But it seemed like they didn't know much more about my bein' there than I did. What was so odd about it? Oh yeah, I was in the Canadian military, but this was an American base in California. I tried to remember, but the name eluded me. Shit, this was new, different an' scary as all fuck because it had to have happened before Alkali Lake an' I have reason to believe that it wasn't just Alkali Lake that made me what I am today.

I went back into my bedroom an' switched on the light. The digital clock said it was only four-fifteen in the morning, but I wasn't gettin' anymore sleep, not after that. I figured I'd go for a run 'round the grounds an' talk to the Professor once he got up. I threw on a pair of sweats an' a tank top before grabbin' the running shoes I'd finally broken down an' bought. Part o' me is still havin' a hard time acceptin' that I'm part of the team here, an "X-Man". It ain't like I've been part of a team in recent memory. So the concept of havin' a lot o' stuff (like more than one pair o' shoes, for example) is pretty foreign to me.

I switched off my light an' made my way outside. I could tell that the only other person up at this hour was that kid who never slept, Jones. I disengaged the alarm on the back door, making sure to reset it once I was outside. It's a new feature that the Professor installed after Stryker's little home invasion. I don't know if he's completely forgiven me for the bloodstains yet, but hell, those guys came here loaded for bear, not a bunch o' sleepin' kids an' I wasn't about to give 'em the benefit o' the doubt. There's a bunch o' cameras an' other stuff around the perimeter now too. Nothin's too good to keep my people safe.

I stretched out for a few minutes, then set out at a brisk jog to start with. I don't actually need to run for any health reasons, my mutation takes care o' that. But it's a nice mindless exercise that sometimes jars things loose in this extra-dense skull o' mine, 'specially when I'm not sure what it is that's lurkin' in the corners. But as I ran, the more I could see about that dream or memory or whatever the fuck it was. I could see the exam room, which looked the same as a thousand others in doctors' offices all over North America. The stupid paper gown was the same, the reproduction of some abstract painting was the same, even the smell an' the temperature were the same (antiseptic and fuckin' cold). The guys outside the door were military, I'd bet my life on it, but neither one was the actual doctor. An' they'd mentioned Stryker. That bastard is rottin' beneath a couple hundred feet o' water up in Alberta an' he's still hauntin' me. Maybe I'll go up there someday, drag up the corpse an' burn it or bury it in salt.

I could hear the local wildlife startin' to wake up around me, small animals and birds just gettin' started for the day. Sunrise was still a couple hours off, but these little guys had to be up early enough to get the good stuff before the bigger guys woke up an' made things difficult for them. Yeah, I know I'm named after a nasty bugger with a mean temper, but I feel more in common with these littler animals, which just try to stay one step ahead of the rest to survive. Ain't that what I've been doing for the past fifteen years? Just tryin' to stay one step ahead of the past, so it can't catch up to me and do me in once and for all. I know it's stupid, to be afraid of things I can't even remember. Maybe I don't remember because I don't want to. More likely, I don't remember because someone didn't want me to. But what coulda happened before Alkali Lake that was so terrible that they'd go to such lengths to strip it away, takin' everything that happened before it along for the ride? As I ran, I got the feelin' that this new memory was part o' the key to that.

As I came around to the back of the mansion again, I saw lights startin' to go on in the windows. Those would be the girls' rooms; they felt they needed to get up an hour before anyone else to make themselves presentable or somethin', I don't know. I've known women who could go from sleep to sex kitten in twenty-five minutes or less, but these teenagers were way into their daily rituals. For all I know, they had to sacrifice a goat to the mascara gods before they could start the day. But I knew if I was ever gonna get a hot shower, I had to go in now or be stuck with one in the "refreshingly arctic" range. I crossed the lawn at a run, paused on the patio for a quick cool-down and went back inside. Now that the mansion was alive, it was safe to turn the alarms off for the day.

I musta dawdled a bit too long with my cool-down; the shower I got was warmer than a penguin would like, but not by much. I pulled on my daily uniform of jeans, t-shirt an' boots and made my way down to breakfast. Rogue, Kitty an' Jubilee were all already there lookin' barely alert yet perfectly made up, not a hair out o' place. I definitely needed to look into that goat angle; it's the only thing that made sense. I grabbed a cup of coffee and huge plate of scrambled eggs and toast, then wandered over to their table.

"Mornin' ladies, you're lookin' chipper this mornin'." I said as I sat down. Rogue gave me what I called the "hairy eyeball", which is a one-eyed glare through her hair. I smiled and dug in.

"Logan, how can you be so…awake in the morning?" She groaned, picking at her toast.

"Well, the mornin' run does wonders to get the blood movin'. You should try it."

"Ugh, that sounds like work." Jubilee said, grimacing.

"It's less work than you lot go through just to go to classes in the same house you live in, ya know."

They collectively rolled their eyes at me an' I gave 'em a smirk in return. I like teasin' the girls, though Summers is always telling me not to. Seems a few of 'em have crushes on me (Lord knows why) and he thinks I'm actin' "inappropriately". Shit, it's not like I'm a teacher here or anythin'. Well, maybe a few classes here an' there on stuff like martial arts an' other self-defense. Who else is gonna do it? But they all act kinda afraid o' me during class, so I don't think it's a bad thing for them to think of me in more than just "scary claw guy" terms. Besides, they're all way too young for me.

The girls finished their breakfast and left to do whatever else it was they needed to do before their first classes. I sat back and lingered over my coffee, watchin' as some of the other kids came trickling in. I wasn't teachin' anything, so I had a whole day to kill. I also knew that Chuck didn't have any classes for at least an hour, so I figured I'd go ask him to poke around upstairs and see if he could dislodge anything useful from this new memory of mine.

I approached his office and noticed the door was ajar. I didn't even get a chance to knock before his voice echoed in my head, inviting me in. I closed the door behind me an' crossed to the sofa.

"Logan, good morning. What brings you here today?" He asked, although part o' me is certain he never starts a conversation unless he already knows what the other person wants. Telepaths are damn pesky that way.

"I had a dream last night an' it was…different from the others. Older, I think, but I don't know by how much."

He hit the lever on the arm of his wheelchair an' came 'round to the front o' the desk. "Interesting. What do you remember?" I gave him all the details I could manage. "Very interesting. And you're positive you were in California?"

"I'd bet my life on it. Hell, I'd bet your life on it, I'm too hard to kill for my life to be a good bet." I leaned forward. "I want you to read my mind, see if you can get more out of it than I can remember."

"Logan, we've been through this before…" He began, but I cut him off.

"Spare me the shit, Chuck. I know what you said before an' I'm not askin' you to make sense o' anythin'. I just want ya to read this one little thing an' tell me what ya see. Outside perspective an' objectivity or whatever."

He sighed. "Very well, Logan. Close your eyes, try to relax."

I complied an' I could feel the heat radiating off the palms of his hands as he put them on either side o' my head. I took a deep breath an' relaxed as much as I could. I might not look it all the time, but I'm pretty high-strung, always ready to throw down at a moment's notice. You never know when a fight might break out. After a coupla minutes, I heard him sigh again an' his hands moved away. "Well, anythin'?"

"I think so. Does the name 'Fort Wyvern' mean anything to you?"

I searched the few truly coherent memories I do have an' shook my head. "No, nothin' concrete. It gives me a feelin' though. Kinda like dread."

"And here I was beginning to think nothing could rattle you." He replied dryly.

"Hey, I get rattled by plenty. I just don't show it."

"Your secret is safe with me." He wheeled himself back around the desk as a knock came at the door. "I believe that's my first class for the day." He steepled his fingers, thinking, then came to a decision. "I'll make a few inquiries over lunch and with luck I'll have a few answers for you."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." I stood up an' let the kiddies in, closin' the door behind me. Fort Wyvern. I didn't know why, back then, but the name sent a shiver down my spine, like someone just walked over my grave. Whatever it was that happened back there wasn't nice an' somehow, it involved me. It figures. Seems like all I have back there is bad shit, ghosts and regrets. I'd give a kidney for one happy memory, I really would.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I was tunin' up my motorcycle (ok, it's really One-Eye's bike, but I claimed it as my own an' he hadn't claimed it back yet) when the Professor's voice filled my head. 'Logan, please meet me in my office for lunch when you're done there.' Good, he must have gotten somethin' for me.

'Gimme ten minutes, I'll be there.' I sent back. I wiped the grease from my hands an' returned the tools to the correct boxes. I was tempted to rearrange everything in 'em, just to see how long it would take Scott to go into a ragin' fit of OCD, but decided to be nice just this once. He wouldn't thank me for it, but it would keep him out of my face. He'd relaxed a bit since Jean died an' I admitted that she ultimately chose him over me, but there was still tension there. Not that I can blame him, really. After all, I'd done the one thing that no one else had ever been able to do; I gave him doubt about Jean. I'd be a dick to me too if I were in his shoes.

I washed the last of the grease off my hands an' wandered to the Professor's office. There was a nice lunch laid out for us and, unbelievably, a beer for me. I coulda kissed him on his little bald pate for that, but settled for a raised eyebrow. "What's the occasion?" I said as I sat down.

"I don't want you to think you can make it a habit of having beer around the kids all the time, but I also realize it's unfair of me to make you go out to some bar every time you want one." He said. "And since it looks like you'll be leaving us for a while, I thought I'd relax and let you enjoy one in peace while you have a chance."

I raised my beer, but didn't get a chance to take a drink. "Leavin'? For what?"

"I made a few discreet inquiries about Fort Wyvern." He began. "It's now decommissioned, but there are certain…individuals in the town that it was formerly a part of who feel that it's not completely abandoned."

"Why don't I like the sound o' that?" I asked. I had a very bad feelin' about this.

"Because you have a natural distrust for anything that has to do with the military, no matter which military it is."

"Ok, that's a fair point." I took a long drink of the beer. It was a nice English stout, great flavor. "So who are these 'individuals'?"

"I have a friend or two in California who heard rumors that there were a number of secret projects going on at Fort Wyvern. At least one of these involves genetic experimentation." I almost dropped the beer in shock, but managed to save it. Alcohol abuse is a terrible thing. "I see that got your attention."

"Hell yeah it did!" I said, a little louder than I intended. "Do you think it has anythin' to do with what I saw?"

"I don't know. It's possible that your mind will reveal more of that period to you over time, as with some of your other memories. But I will say that the rumor also includes a troop of genetically altered rhesus monkeys that supposedly escaped a secret lab under the fort." He looked at me intently. "Not much is known about them, except that they are much smarter and more vicious than their wild counterparts. It's also been rumored that they brought something out with them, but no one knows for certain. And, of course, the government isn't talking about it."

I sat back with my beer, suddenly worried. "Do you think they were usin' mutant DNA on those monkeys? Tryin' to engineer somethin'?"

He shook his head. "As I said, there's no concrete evidence. But I can tell you this much. The majority of the base is abandoned. I'm sure it wouldn't be too difficult for one person of your singular talents to get in there unnoticed and poke around, as it were."

"Which you knew was exactly what I would want to do as soon as you told me this." I rubbed my eyes. On the one hand, I had it really good here. A steady job teachin' the kids, a real bed to sleep in, friends I cared about (like Rogue an' the Professor) not to mention a chance to kick asses on a semi-regular basis. On the other hand, I'd definitely dreamed I was in a military facility of some sort an' they'd wanted samples of me for somethin'. "Yeah, you're right. I wanna go, as soon as I can."

"Of course you do, which is why I've asked Storm to fly you out there as soon as you're ready." I smirked at him. "Come now, you are a bit predictable when it comes to your quest for answers. Do you want anyone to go with you?" I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head. "I figured as much. Well, whenever you want to go, she'll take you out there. I'll give you a cell phone to take with you, so you can call when you're ready to come back."

"Thank you." I said, my voice just a little rough. "I'll keep you posted on what I find out."

"I'd expect no less." He put a napkin in his lap and gestured to me. "Now let's enjoy our lunch."

It felt like I'd barely closed my eyes when I fell asleep that night. I wasn't used to that, it usually took me longer to get into a good enough mental place for sleep to happen, but this was different. It was like my mind was eager to get back to Fort Wyvern, so it dropped me on my ass as fast as it could.

Old Spice Barton came an' went an' a few minutes later the doctor came in carrying a thick file. She was definitely not what I was expectin' in a military doctor, in that she wasn't all that old an' she was a knockout. I was at least polite enough not to stare, but she still smiled as though she knew that I had given her a once over when she walked in. Well, I did. Sue me.

"Hello, Major Logan, I'm Dr. Snow." She said, shaking my hand. "I'm sure you're wondering why you were invited here."

I raised an eyebrow. "Invited? With all due respect, ma'am, this is the military. They give orders, not invitations."

She laughed an' it was a very nice sound. "Very true, major." She pulled out one o' the chairs that sat against the wall from the exam table an' sat down, crossing very shapely legs in the process. I took a quick glance at her hands an' felt instantly disappointed; she was married. "Well, let me see if I can explain this to you. The United States and Canada are thinking about forming a joint task force to counter terrorism. We foresee a day where acts of terror might even be carried out on domestic soil and we think it's in our countries' best interests if we work together. However, we need soldiers who are in the best physical shape to do this, the best of the best as it were." She leaned forward and folded her hands, looking me right in the eye. "We also need people with singular…advantages over the regular soldier. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

I narrowed my eyes, pretty sure I did know, but I wasn't about to admit that. "No, actually, I don't."

She sighed and sat back. "I won't lie to you, Major. Something tells me you'd know if I was lying anyway, so I'll give it to you straight." She stood and crossed over to me. "We need mutants. But only the strongest mutants. And although you've done a remarkable job of reinventing yourself over the years, we have the resources to track you back further than you can imagine."

She handed me the file an' gestured for me to open it. As I turned the pages, I realized she wasn't lyin' to me at all. This file had shit in it that went back seventy-five years at least. Yeah, these people were good, too good. I was suddenly very afraid. "What the fuck is this?"

"It's not blackmail, if that's what you're afraid of." She said, sitting back down. "We have no intention of telling anyone about your mutation. But we do want to do a complete genetic profile of you, because your particular mutation could be beneficial on a much wider scale than just military applications. Now, since you're already here, you can just give us a few blood samples and we'll send you on your way."

"What if I don't wanna give you any samples?" I was gettin' angry, never a good thing.

"Then you don't have to. We're not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do. But if we can isolate this healing factor you seem to have, it's possible we can engineer a lesser version of it that will work to help us cure countless diseases, help reverse conditions previously thought to be permanent. You wouldn't just be serving your country, you could serve the entire world."

Damn, this lady was good. She knew just what buttons to push, that's for sure. I sighed and closed the file, setting it down next to me. "What the hell? It's just a couple pinpricks, right?" She smiled at me. "But this is it, right? You're not gonna use this to build some unkillable army, are ya? Maybe fashion antidotes to some really nasty biological weapon you're all cookin' up?"

She looked at me an' her eyes could have cut diamonds, they were so hard. "Major Logan, I am a doctor. I would rather die than see my work misused in such a disgusting manner."

"Then why are ya workin' with the military?"

Her eyes widened; that struck a nerve for sure. "It's purely financial. I can get more money for my work here than I can through any university on the planet". She busied herself readying the vials for the blood samples. "I also have some…personal reasons for my work, but those are not your concern." She swabbed my arm with an alcohol pad an' inserted the needle. She filled three vials, but before she could even put the cotton ball over the wound, it healed over. Her eyes widened at that an' I could tell she wanted to stick me again for shits an' giggles, just to see it again. I hopped off the table an' grabbed my pants.

"Are we done here?" I asked, jerking the pants on so hard they almost ripped. She nodded mutely an' I tore the gown off an' grabbed my shirt. "Good. Now get me the hell outta here."

I sat straight up in bad, sweating. Sunlight was comin' in through the windows, so at least I made it through the night this time. But I got a lot more out of this dream than the last one, stuff that would be a lot more helpful to me. I now had the name of the one person I needed to talk to the most: Dr. Snow. Whoever she was, she had answers that might lead to how the hell I wound up in a tank at Alkali Lake.

I took a quick shower, dressed an' threw some clothes in a bag. I didn't want to wait one more minute; I needed to get out to that base. The clock told me it was quarter til eight, so I knew everyone I needed would be up an' about. I went to the Professor's office first, knockin' on the door before goin' in. He was in the middle of a class, but I didn't care. He knew why I was there.

"So, you're ready to go?" He asked. I nodded. "That's fine. Say good-bye to Rogue or she'll never forgive you. I'm sure Storm will be ready to go when you are." He handed me the promised cell phone and a charger.

"Thanks, Professor." I never called him Chuck in front of the kids. "I'll let ya know what I find." A couple of the kids waved an' I said good-bye to them before leaving. Rogue was in a class with Scott right now. Seein' him would be fun. Like root canal or a prostate exam. I just walked right into the class, interrupting him in the middle of his lecture. "Hey, can I talk to Rogue for a minute?"

I'm pretty sure he glared at me. It's kinda hard to tell with those glasses he has to wear. "Can't this wait until the class is over?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"No, it can't." I crossed mine, starin' him down. We stayed that way for a minute before he gave up. He gestured to Rogue an' she came out into the hall with me.

I closed the classroom door an' she looked down an' saw my bag. Her head whipped up an' she gave me a deathly glare. "You're leavin'." It wasn't a question.

"Uh, yeah, I am. For a little while."

"Why?"

"I've been rememberin' other stuff, from before Alkali Lake. I have to track it down, see if it tells me anythin' important."

"Logan, how many times do we have to tell you that it doesn't matter who you used to be? It's who you are now that matters!"

"I know!" I said, sharper than I intended. I lowered my voice. "I know. But damn it Rogue! There has to be somethin' back there that isn't all bad, full o' pain. You, of all people, should know what it's like in this head o' mine."

She lowered her eyes an' I could tell she was starting to cry. I wrapped my arms 'round her shoulders an' she hugged me around my waist. "It's just…I worry about you, all the time. You were the first person who really helped me after I left home. And you did promise you'd take care of me. How can you do that if you're not here?"

"Hey, listen. Chuck gave me this newfangled gadget called a 'cell phone'. If you need me for anythin', you can just call me, ok? An' if it's really important, I'll come right back."

She sniffled. "You promise?"

I smiled. "Yeah, I promise." She looked up at me and I kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Just behave yourself, don't get in trouble, you hear me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, mother." We both smiled. "An' you take care of yourself, ok? I know tellin' you not to get in trouble won't help, it just follows you. So be careful, got it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, mother." Now we were laughing. She stepped away from me an' lifted her gloved hand in a half-hearted wave. I shouldered my bag an' made my way down to the hangar, where Storm already had the jet ready to go. My motorcycle was also strapped in the back, which made me very happy. I was afraid I'd end up walkin' everywhere. I buckled myself in an' she looked over at me, shootin' me a dazzlin' smile. As the jet rose into the air, I saw several people lookin' out the windows an' wavin'. I never expected it, but I was gonna miss this place. I had a home again an' it felt good. I just hoped I'd still be able to come back to it when this was all over.

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