Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men. I wish I did, but sadly this is all I got.

Wolverine: SOULTAKER

Prologue

Dark shadows moved across a dirty room in the bowels of Hong Kong. The room was windowless, the only light coming from a greasy lantern hanging from the ceiling. Barely legal Asian girls dressed in mini shirts and halter tops shuffled around a crowded table with trays of food and drinks.

Four figures of various shapes and sizes sat around the table, each one concealed by the shadows. No one at the table could see the others face, but everyone at the table needed no introduction. Each one there was among the best at their respected trades. And each one there had a score to settle with the same person.

"Wolverine," said a rich, aristocratic voice. "For too long, this fool has been a thorn in all our sides. And it is time that he be dealt with!"

A mixture of nods of agreement and angry growls circled the table.

"But how?" questioned another voice. The shadowy figure who spoke stood and began to walk around the room. The dim light reflected off the figure's bright armor as he spoke with a Japanese accent. "Each one of us has faced defeat at his hands time and time again."

"Speak for yerself," snarls a deep, gruff voice. The owner barely looked up from the massive plate of rare meat in front of him to speak before going back to devouring the food.

"Individually yes, he has found ways to defeat us and foil our plans," replied the aristocratic voice. "But together, he does not stand a chance."

"You sound quite confident for a helpless old man," sneered a Russian accent. "I am wondering why we are bothering to come to your meeting at all."

"Keep your mouth shut, comrade!" shouted the last voice, a female voice. "If he says he has a way to get back at Wolverine, than I'm willing to go on a little faith."

"Then it is settled," said the aristocratic voice, rising out of his chair. The others at the table did the same. "Together, our alliance shall bring Wolverine and the X-Men to their knees!" He raised his glass in toast before shouting: "Death to Wolverine."

The others joined their voices with his, chanting: "DEATH TO WOLVERINE!"

-X-

Chapter 1

"The Mansion"

A loud scream echoed through the air and the sound of feet thumped on hardwood floors. A girl burst out of a room; arms pumping, a streak of white hair blowing into her face as she ran down a corridor.

Rogue ran down the dormitory hallway in Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning, waving a pair of red striped boxer shorts in the air. She brushed her white streak of hair out of her face, a large smile threatening to split her face in two.

"Come on Rogue, give 'em back!" shouted Bobby Drake as he ran after her wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair and body were soaking wet from the shower and his feet were bare. The two careened through the hallway, crashing into walls and students alike. Students began to poke their heads out of rooms to see what was going on and began to laugh at the chase. Kitty Pryde was one of those students, except she didn't bother opening up her door. She phased her head and upper body straight through it and watched as two of her closest friends tore down the hall.

"Stall him!" shouted Rogue to her as she ran past. Kitty nodded and phased a foot out of her door as Bobby ran past. She made her foot solid just in time for Bobby to trip over it and crash onto the floor. His towel flared in the air as he landed, giving Kitty an unobstructed view of what was underneath.

"Nice," she muttered as she stared down at him. She could feel a warm feeling flip flop through her belly as Bobby looked up at her, his face blushing in embarrassment. She just raised an eyebrow and smiled back before phasing back into her room.

Bobby rolled up and paused momentarily to stare at Kitty's door before running back after Rogue.

Hidden inside her room, Kitty bit her lip in frustration and did her best to muffle a sigh of desire.

-X-

Rogue turned a corner as Bobby tripped over Kitty and reached the second floor landing. She held the captured shorts triumphantly in the air before sliding down the staircase banister and into the mansion foyer. Bobby reached the top of the stairs just as she reached the bottom. He groaned in dismay as Rogue ran out the front door and on to the school grounds. He quickly backed up and pressed up against one of the walls in the landing. Activating a hidden panel, a portion of the wall slid back and Bobby disappeared into one of the mansions secret passages.

-X-

Rogue ran past the large, elaborate fountain in the courtyard and turned towards the woods that stood on the eastern corner of the property. She ran into the woods, peeking over her shoulder for her boyfriend. She slowed down when she didn't see him and stopped in the middle of the woods.

She shivered in the late afternoon breeze. Fall came early in Salem Center. It was only mid September, but the trees were already starting to change colors and the days were growing shorter. A quick gust of wind passed through the trees and Rogue wrapped her arms around herself. The light blouse she wore, though accenting her breasts and flat stomach, did little to shield her from the cool breeze.

"Wish Ah wore mah gloves," she muttered, almost yearning to feel the familiar fabric on her cold arms. It had taken her some time to get used to not wearing them and not flinching away from someone's touch.

But she didn't regret taking the cure, not one bit. Some of the students had given her the cold shoulder or whispered behind her back when they found out. Rogue did her best to ignore them, but she had been driven to tears when someone had spray painted TRAITOR in big orange letters across her dorm room door. She didn't come out of her room for two days after that. Kitty literally dragged her through her door so Storm could talk to her. After that, there had been no other incidents. Rogue still hadn't figured out if it was Bobby or Logan who intervened and got them to stop.

Being able to touch was just the icing on the cake after Rogue took the cure. All the absorbed traits and personalities she had accumulated since her powers manifested had disappeared from her mind. Logan's was the only one that remained and she liked that. He had been such a strong part of her life and she liked having a little part of him inside her head.

"What da hell is he waitin' for?" Rogue wondered impatiently as she paced around the woods, wondering what was taking Bobby so long. She walked around in a small circle, expecting him to jump out from behind a tree at any moment. After all, she hadn't taken Bobby's shorts for nothing…

Their relationship had progressed by leaps and bounds in the three months since Alcatraz. They were timid at first. Bobby was the perfect gentleman as usual; taking things slow, never pressuring her into anything she wasn't ready for. But soon their time together grew more passionate and reckless until they were taking turns sneaking into each others room late at night, something Logan would skin Bobby alive for if he ever found out.

And Rogue loved it, not that the experience had turned her into a slut or a whore or anything. It's just that or a girl whose entire life was lived behind a pair of gloves, when the slightest touch meant utter disaster, sex was an incomparable paradise of ecstasy.

Rogue felt herself blush as she thought about it, then heard a rustling of leaves nearby. 'Finally,' she thought as she quickly hid behind a large oak tree. She peeked out and saw Bobby fully iced up in his X-Men uniform (the only clothes that wouldn't shatter when he froze) with his back to her, peeking into a row of bushes. Smiling, Rogue tiptoed out from behind her hiding spot and crept towards Bobby.

"Gotcha!" shouted Rogue as she wrapped her arms around the boy…and shrieked as her arms went right through him and she fell into the remains of the snow statue made by her boyfriend.

Bobby stepped out of the bushes, dressed in Xavier Institute sweat pants and t-shirt, holding his stomach laughing.

"Gawd damn it Bobby!" yelled Rogue, her Southern accent becoming more prominent as she got mad. "That wasn't funny!"

"Neither was stealing my clothes and making me run around the mansion naked," replied Bobby.

"Well, ya'll could at least help me up. Ah'm getting' soakin' wet down here."

Bobby smiled and extended his hand. Rogue grabbed it and yanked down hard, knocking Bobby off balance and pulling him sprawling into the growing puddle of snow.

The couple burst into laughter for a moment before Bobby pulled Rogue on top of him for a deep, wet kiss. The teen's hands began to roam over one another's bodies as their kisses grew more and more passionate. Rogue broke the kiss and frantically began to pull Bobby's t-shirt off when…

"Ahem." Someone cleared his throat behind him.

Rogue spun off Bobby as fast as she could, fearing it was Logan. She quickly rearranged her clothes and put everything back where it belonged.

"Ah, young love. How sweet it is," laughed the grizzled, deep voice as a man stepped out of the woods.

He was a tall, bald black man dressed in an expensive looking white suit that was open at the neck. He had a neatly trimmed goatee and a black patch over his left eye.

"Who are you? What do you want?" demanded Bobby as he stood up, his fists crackling as they turned to solid ice.

The black man drew a pistol that looked like something out of Star Wars from his coat and aimed it at Bobby's face.

"Sit your ass down, boy," the black man ordered as a laser sight appeared in-between Rogue's eyes. "It would be a shame to splatter your newly cured girlfriend's brains all over these bushes."

Rogue stared at the black man in amazement as Bobby's ice began to recede.

"How do ya know…"

"That you took Worthington's cure?" interrupted the black man. "Oh, there's not too much I don't know, Marie."

Rogue's jaw dropped. Nobody outside the X-Men knew her real name. Not even any of the younger students knew it. Rogue felt violated that someone outside the mansion, someone she didn't know or had never met, knew her name.

"How do you know her name?" shouted Bobby. The temperature in the woods went arctic as Bobby lost control of his temper. Frost began to cover the ground and crawl up the trees. The black man began to look around in astonished fear as steam billowed out of his mouth with each breath.

"Knock that shit off, son," he warned, cocking his futuristic looking gun. "We don't have time for your teenage heroics," he said as he waved his free hand in the air.

Suddenly, ten laser sights blinked on and hovered on the two teens. Rogue could see shadows sneaking out of the woods; invisible beings shaped like men. Rogue could see them, but at the same time couldn't see them. She could barely make out the outline of the shadows; the red lasers coming out of the guns they were carrying helped a lot. Something was distorting the light around them, making them nearly invisible to the naked eye.

The near-invisible shapes shimmered before disappearing in a cackle of static electricity, reveling soldiers dressed in heavy camouflage and heavy armor. Each one was wearing a large helmet with a visor over his face and carried a massive hi-tech rifle.

Rogue glared at the soldiers as she raised her hands in surrender. One of the soldiers shifted uneasily under her Wolverine-like stare. The woods grew warmer as Bobby took back control of his powers. He chuckled quietly as he raised his own hands into the air.

"You stole your gear from an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie and a video game. Real creative," he said sarcastically.

"Why not?" replied the black man was he holstered his pistol. "Cell phones used to be something out of Star Trek and look at 'em now."

"What do ya'll want with us?" shouted Rogue, looking the man right in the eye. He chuckled.

"No powers and still tough as nails. I like that," he smiled. "We actually don't want you sweetheart. Or any of your little friends. You just happened to be in my way. I'm here to talk to a really old friend."

He walked towards Rogue and smiled down at her. "Where's Logan?"

-X-

The storm raged throughout the night, a howling monster of bitter wind and frozen snow. The temperature throughout Northern Canada had been close to freezing even before the storm. Once the storm began its fury, it quickly dropped below zero.

A single man stood amidst the storm, dressed in jeans worn nearly threadbare. His leather jacket was fleece lined, but offered no more than a token of protection against the fierce storm. He was a short man, with a stocky powerful physique, as if the frame of a muscular six footer had been squashed down to five and change. His face was young looking, weathered by a life spent mainly outdoors. His hair was dark, sweeping back from his forehead and face in a pointy wave that looked natural to him, but too wild, too primal for a normal human being. His face was covered in bristly stubble, ending in thick sideburns. His eyes were icy blue and like his hair, were right for his face, yet at the same time they had no right belonging to someone who looked so youthful. These eyes missed nothing and had seen far too much. They were the eyes of a hunter. A predator.

His name was Logan, but the only reason he knew it was that was from an old pair of dog tags he had. They were his only clue to his past, and he threw them away in a final act of defiance to the man who made him the way he is.

The man walked through the calf deep snow, entering an ancient grove of pine trees. He tilted his head and inhaled the wind, his keen senses picking out the different scents of deer, goose, and raccoon. He heard a wolf howl in the distance, but paid it no heed. There was something else he was looking for in the grove, something much more dangerous than a wolf.

He walked deeper into the grove, pausing to occasionally sniff a fallen twig or to shield himself from a particularly powerful gust of snow or wind.

The grove began to thin and Logan entered a small, circular clearing. A large buff of rocks stood at the north end, blocking the worst of the storm. Logan's eyes swept over the rocks and trees, but saw only snow covered pines and naked rocks. Logan slowly crept into the center of the clearing and sniffed the air again. The same pungent scents filled his nostrils, but there was something else this time. Logan wrinkled his nostrils as he breathed in the rank smell of old furs and the coppery scent of blood.

Logan dropped to the ground and rolled to his left just in time to avoid the large man hurtling down from the trees. Logan crouched in the snow and growled as six triangular adamantium claws ripped through the skin between his knuckles with a loud and distinctive snikt.

"No X-Men to save ya this time, runt," the man snarled as it turned around. The thing that leapt from the trees was more animal than human, even more animal than Logan himself. He was much taller than Logan with long, tangled yellow hair. A filthy moustache framed his fanged mouth and he wore dirty animal hides across his shoulders. His amber cat-like eyes narrowed at Logan and he flexed his massive hands, showing off his own set of wicked claws.

"I don't need anyone's help to tear you a new one Sabretooth," Logan growls back.

Sabretooth roared, sounding more lion than man, and dove at Logan, claws first. The attack struck Logan in the chest, cutting apart the leather jacket and digging into the flesh underneath. Logan rolled with the blow and counterattacked, slashing Sabretooth across the face. The larger mutant rolled away and stood across from Logan. The two combatants circled each other, their healing factors knitting their wounds with equal speed.

Sabretooth stalked towards Logan, cracking his knuckles loudly.

"I'm gonna enjoy this," he smiled and lunged at Logan, slashing him across the chest. Sabretooth's claws cut deep and Logan felt his lungs fill with his own blood, drowning him. Logan fell to one knee and Sabretooth pressed his advantage. He dragged his claws along Logan's head, cutting through his scalp and cheek all the way down to the adamantium. He tore off Logan's ear and tossed it casually over his shoulder.

Logan howled in pain and, recovered enough from the wounds on his chest to breathe again, retaliated with a vicious clawed uppercut, plunging his claws into Sabretooth's abdomen and tearing upwards into his chest. Sabretooth howled in pain and staggered back, giving Logan the precious time he needed to re-grow his scalp and ear.

"That looked like it hurt," Logan smiled a toothy half grin, showing off his own larger than normal canine teeth. "So will this!" Logan dashed at Sabretooth and swung at Sabretooth's chest, but missed. Sabretooth quickly moved out of the way. He grabbed onto Logan's wrist and, using Logan's own momentum, picked him up and flung him across the clearing. Logan's flight was brief and ended abruptly as he careened into the buff of rocks with the force of a car wreck. He bounced off the rocks and fell to the ground.

"You still got nuthin' runt," Sabretooth mocked as he swaggered across the clearing towards Logan, his massive chest and stomach healing quickly.

Logan staggered to his feet, his body aching from the crash and from healing. He glared defiantly at Sabretooth and forced himself to stand straight.

"Was that the best you got furball?" he growled. "I've had worst paper cuts."

Sabretooth snarled in rage and launched himself at Logan. He slashed at Logan's face, but Logan was waiting. He tucked underneath Sabretooth's claws and buried all six of his claws into the space where Sabretooth's neck met his chest. The razor sharp adamantium cut through skin and muscle and bone as easily as the cut through air. Warm Blood cascaded out of the wounds and splashed onto Logan's arms and face.

Sabretooth tried to growl at Logan, but only an oozing gurgle escaped his throat. He reached up and grabbed onto Logan's wrists, trying to force Logan's claws out of his neck. He craned his neck, trying to bite Logan with his fang-like canines. Logan bared his teeth and tilted his head away from Sabretooth's fangs and used all his strength to push Sabretooth back. The pair barreled through the snow and crashed into the rocks.

Sabretooth's back slammed into the rocks with a heavy thud. He snarled and pushed at Logan's wrists. Logan growled and pushed back, but Sabretooth was too strong. Slowly the adamantium claws began to emerge from Sabretooth's neck. Sabretooth grinned at Logan as he pushed.

"You always were weaker than me," taunted Sabretooth, his voice raspy and torn. He began laughing at Logan, taunting him as he pulled the remainder of Logan's claws from his throat. Using his superhuman strength and putting his height advantage to use, he bent Logan's wrists, turning his adamantium claws against him. Logan growled and bared his teeth in frustrated rage as the tips of his own claws inched towards his neck.

"Killed by your own claws," smiled Sabretooth, pressing the claws closer and closer to Logan's throat. "A suitable end for a weak little runt like you!"

Logan tightened his jaw as his claws tickled the tender skin on his throat. But Sabretooth stopped pushing when Logan smiled up at him.

"I might not be as strong as you, bub," muttered Logan. "But I'm sure as hell smarter!"

Logan's claws retracted back into the bionic housings located in his forearms with a loud snakt sound. His right knee shot up between Sabretooth's legs, striking the larger mutant in the groin. Sabretooth reflexively let go of Logan's wrists and doubled over in pain.

Logan didn't waste anytime. He ignored the fiery pain between his knuckles as he popped his claws back out and leapt at Sabretooth. Logan spun on his front foot and swiped at Sabretooth's neck, cutting the shaggy head clean off. The head rolled in the snow and came to a stop a few feet away from Logan. Sabretooth's body fell down besides its head, blood mixing with the virginal white snow.

Logan exhaled loudly, his body shaking as the built up adrenaline left his system. He retraced his claws walked over to the rocks. He sat down and held his head in his hands, feeling his rage leaving his body.

The snow continued to fall and Logan shivered from the cold.

"Great," he muttered, looking down at the tattered remains of his t-shirt and leather jacket. "I liked that jacket." He stood up and walked away from the rocks. He stepped over Sabretooth's bloody corpse and stared up at the sky. Snowflakes fell into his hair and for a brief moment, Logan felt peace.

"End Program," he shouted and a loud klaxon cut through the air. The storm and snow vanished and the night sky was replaced by the institutional lighting of a vast and sprawling concourse the size of a jumbo jet hanger. The pine tree and rocks surrounding the clearing vanished, reveling huge panels of image inducers—hard light generators capable of creating three-dimensional and fully tangible images. The hard light generators slid back into their individual housings hidden in the walls and Sabretooth's bloody corpse shimmered as the generators shut down. Instead of a corpse, a headless robot lay on the floor, spitting sparks instead of blood.

Logan headed for the door of the Danger Room, rolling the kinks out of his neck.

"Damn computer's getting' better," Logan muttered

-X-

Logan took his time in the locker room shower, muttering darkly that the spray wasn't as powerful as he liked. Truth was, what he liked was a fire hose at full pressure, enough to scour his flesh the way it could be used to flay paint off a wall. He started as hot as he could bear, which wasn't quite hot enough to burn, then went for cold. That wasn't satisfactory, either, for a man who spent most of his life using mountain rivers and lakes where the water was usually a degree or two shy of turning to ice.

"Maybe I can get Kitty to program the Danger Room to simulate me a decent shower," he muttered to himself as he finished. He stepped out of the shower and dried off. His locker was sparse with no pictures or pinups taped to the doors or walls. Only a pair of old jeans and a spare white t-shirt was hung inside. He put on the same pair of boots he wore in the Danger Room, his only pair, and walked out of the locker room.

The hallway was empty; most of the students were still in class. Logan cast a look down at the X-shaped door that led to Xavier's Cerebro chamber. He pulled a cigar out of his jeans and sliced of the end with his claw, remembering Xavier's threat about smoking in school.

"Logan, my repeated requests about smoking in the mansion notwithstanding, continue smoking that in here and you will spend the rest if your days under the belief that you are a six year old girl."

"You'd do that?"

"I'll have Jean braid your hair."

Logan smiled at the memory and lit his cigar. He inhaled deeply and let out a long drag of smoke. He started towards one of the mansion's hidden elevators and pounded on the button with the outside of his fist.

A loud ding echoed through the hallway, announcing the school's PA system. The system was newly installed, it hadn't been necessary during Xavier's time. He had preferred to contact his students and staff telepathically, enjoying giving his wards a bit of a start.

In her own way, Ororo was as powerful as Xavier had been. But telepathy was one power she lacked.

"Logan, please come to my office immediately!" her voice rang through the electronic speakers above his head, but Logan can hear the controlled fear and anger in her tones. Snuffing out his cigar in the palm of his hand, Logan violently jabbed at the buttons on the elevator. The machine whirls to life and smoothly begins to ascend, but Logan curses the machine's slowness anyway.

When the elevator finally reached the main floor, Logan burst out of the door as soon as it opened, nearly knocking over a pair of young girls in the process. He bid them a hasty apology and ran towards Storm's office.

He was still in the hallway when the smells hit him like a sledgehammer. The everyday smells of the mansion were mingled with new, foreign scents. Logan stopped outside the door and inhaled. The smell of gun oil and terrible aftershave wafted into his nostrils.

There was only one person in the world that Logan knew who wore that aftershave. Baring his teeth in anger, Logan barreled into the office without warning.

Ororo's office was really Xavier's office, just with a new title and a chair behind the desk. She had changed little in terms of décor: taking little away and only adding a few things close to her own heart. A Kenyan tribal mask and spear, reminders of her roots, hung in a corner. A vast array of colorful homegrown flowers sat in pots and vases throughout the office.

Ororo was sitting behind her desk, piles of papers uncharacteristically thrown askew. Logan spotted Rogue and Bobby on the expensive sofa, holding each other's hand. Their faces were flush and Logan could hear their hearts racing, he could smell their panic.

He fully stepped into the office and saw a trio of heavily armed and armored soldiers waiting in the wings on both sides of the desk, their weapons trained on Ororo.

Another four soldiers sprang up from behind the sofa, their weapons aimed at Logan's chest. Logan's claws punched out of his fists and he crouched down, ready to spring at whichever soldier that was stupid to move first.

"Show yer ugly mug Fury!" Logan shouted. "I know yer here!"

General Nick Fury's body shimmered in the corner as he deactivated the Light-Negative Generator sewn into his tailored suit, turning off his invisibility. He walked out from the corner, his hands open and palms up at his sides.

"How'd you know I was here Logan?" Fury asked as Logan slowly stood upright, but kept his claws out and ready.

"I could smell that napalm you use for aftershave from a mile away," growled Logan. "What's with all the hardware Fury?"

"Just a precaution," replied Fury. "I never know who I'm dealing with when I come looking for you Logan. Some days I get the man, some the weapon, and sometimes the animal."

"You keep pointing guns at my friends, Fury, and you're not going to see anything but your own blood," snarled Logan. He fell back into a crouch and spread his arms out wide, ready to attack.

"Take it easy Logan," said Fury, reaching into his jacket for his pistol. He leveled the gun at Rogue's face and a small laser dot appeared between her eyes. "Now we both know you could kill us all inside of ten seconds if you wanted to and still walk away clean as a preacher's sheets. But I don't think even you could kill all of us before we cap one of your little kiddies here. Or maybe your weather witch girlfriend back here."

"You sure Fury?" asked Logan, giving Fury the same toothy half smile he gave the Sabretooth bot back in the Danger Room. "It's been a long time. I've gotten a lot better since then."

Fury didn't flinch, although several of his men nearest to Logan shifted nervously.

"I'll take my chances," smiled Fury, lowering his gun. "We only came to talk. Besides, you know that if we wanted to hurt you, we could have blasted this entire mansion of yours down to electrons by now."

Logan paused, calculating his options. If it was just him, he'd have no trouble and no problem taking the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents down. He wouldn't kill them, but they'd know they were in one hell of a scrap for a long time afterwards. But Ororo, Bobby, and Rogue complicated things. Logan knew he could count on Ororo in a fight, and Bobby had been steadily getting better since Alcatraz. Logan figured they could handle at least their share of the soldiers. Rogue was the real problem. Logan made her a promise, back on the train before Ol' Buckethead tore it a new one.

"I'll take care of you." That's what he said to her.

Logan's claws slowly slid back into their housings.

"Good call," said Fury with a smile. He lowered his gun and motioned for his men to do the same. "Take a seat."

"I'll stand," Logan replied quickly and he walked across the room and took a position in between Ororo and Rogue. "You said you came to talk. So talk already," he said rudely.

"What happened on Alcatraz Island has got a lot of the higher ups worried," Fury said as took a seat in the arm chair across from the sofa. "I'll be honest, an army of pissed off super powered types scares the hell out of me. What if Magneto had decided to storm Washington D.C. instead of San Francisco?"

"We would have gone there to stop him instead," said Storm proudly. "That's what we're here for."

"Yeah, well you guys aren't exactly the fan favorites here. Most people see you all as potential Magnetos waiting to happen."

"But we stand against everything Magneto was all about," argued Bobby. "We protected people, we never hurt anyone."

"Tell that to the thousands of people around the world that died or went into comas when Stryker plugged Xavier into that machine or the U.S. soldiers that you killed at Alkali Lake," said Fury darkly. "Or maybe you should talk to the families of the thousand National Guardsmen that were atomized when Jean Grey went postal."

"Watch it Fury!" snapped Logan so viciously that even Rogue inched closer to Bobby.

"I'm just saying you all aren't as innocent as you think. And in the eyes of the public, you're just as guilty as Magneto is."

"So you came all this way to give us a public service announcement," scoffed Logan. "Thanks a lot. Now get the hell out of here."

Fury ignored Logan's threats and dug into his jacket pocket. "I came because of this." He pulled a photograph out of his pocket and slid it across Ororo's desk.

The photograph was black and white and very grain. Logan guessed taken by either a lousy satellite or a spy cam. But the quality of the photo couldn't change the image Logan saw.

Author's Notes:

For those who have read any of my other stories, I love cliffhangers. Sorry, I'm evil like that.

I've been wanting to do a Wolverine fic for a while now and plan to have a lot of fun with this piece. I hope you all enjoy and please read and review.

Nataku's Wrath