New Orleans, French Quarter
Evening

"Remind me again why we're here." Luke glanced around the street, grateful for the sunglasses. The sun had already disappeared behind the buildings but the bright neon of Bourbon Street would have made him wince. Kyle did not appear any more at ease, but he wore a more assured grin. The partying had already started. There were plenty of things to look at, except that none of it was what he wanted to look at. Drunks and whores and drug addicts as far as the eye could see.

"A foul place." Sahara grimaced as they passed an open door. The stench of sweat and alcohol poured out to greet them. This was not a pleasant place for a creature that relied on scent. "How can one stand this?"

"Lust, adventure, desperation…" Luke squinted as he tried to make out a sign. Half of the letters were out. "The dreg-side of society. People come here to forget about life, not to celebrate it. Keep your eyes peeled for the sign. I don't want to be on the street anymore than necessary."

Eyes followed their every step, more focused on Sahara's alien form than on them. She took it in stride. Her outfit has been designed to catch eyes. She wore the thin, white cotton t-shirt and denim hot pants like a pro, body moving with enough grace and poise to draw stares from men and women around her. The red bandanna in her mane complimented the look, locking in her in to the casual observer as a country-bred gal, even if she was a cat-person. It was just the right balance of innocent and appealing that would distract anyone but a eunuch.

But it was the bulky shock collar around her throat that raised the most eyebrows. Luke felt a pang of regret as he snuck a glance at the hard lines on her face. He had no doubt she felt humiliated, but she had voiced no complaints at the idea. It played into their strategy, and perhaps would be the key to getting this thing done.

When this was all over, he swore he would find a way to make it up to her. It was an awful way to be initiated into the team.

There were other mutants on the street, probably, but none that stood out as harshly as she did. Luke felt the hair on the back of his neck raise as certain seedier individuals cast covetous looks Sahara's way. Those were the kind of men that he didn't want to see again. Not without a pistol in his hand. They clustered together in Sahara's wake, muttering and calculating. He'd heard that there were mutant-slavers in the South. Actually seeing them made him want to draw and unload a magazine into the disgusting scum.

"There." Kyle pointed. "Marti's info says that we can find Marko in this one."

"The high-class one?"

It was one of the less seedy places on the street. The lights were clean and bright, the walls paitned and the windows lacked graffiti. There were no huddled bodies outside, no vagrants or streetwalkers to litter the front. It was the kind of place one would find someone important. Luke slipped his hands out of his pockets and gestured for them to cross the street. He had to fight from clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Come on then, let's get going."

They pushed through the crowd and into the shelter of the entrance. There were no bouncers on Bourbon Street. Not on the outside at least. The trio of suited goons that greeted them in the entrance was the security. Sizing them with practiced skill, Luke bet that they were all pretty good at their job. They didn't even pay Sahara a special glance, or do any funny business as they searched her. They were rather polite about it, especially considering the fact that Luke and his comrades were an unknown. A professional pat-down, a rough slap on the shoulder, and they were in. One even had the courtesy to wish them a good night.

One of the three led them further inside. They skirted the main bar area, heading unerringly to the back rooms. As they walked Luke scanned the faces surrounding them. There seemed to be no 'visitors' here. Every man and woman had the stamp of the Mob about them. Luke picked out brawlers, con artists, wrench monkeys, and even a couple songbirds. Most cast them an inquisitive look, the brawlers' bordered on hostile, but none gave them more than a second's attention. The entertainment on the stage, a blonde haired, doe-eyed singer, kept most of them happily occupied as they celebrated the end of the week.

There were no smiles though. Despite the lighting and the cheer in the singer's voice, not a man or woman among them dared curve their lips upwards. Someone cracked a joke as they passed, but the only response was a series of nervous chuckles from the others around the table. The tone reminded Luke of a child sent to his room after being caught in the cookie jar. Punishment was around the corner, but they had no idea what exactly there were going to face. Luke connected the dots easily enough. The vigilante had made business bad, and most likely humiliated a few faces in the crowd. Heads either were rolling, or about to start.

They cleared the main room and entered the narrow hallway in the rear. A fourth thug let them inside an inconspicuous side room crammed between the women's bathroom and a janitor's closet. Luke stepped in first, as was expected of the leader of the gang they were posing as. His eyes didn't wander from picking out the lone figure in the room, but he took it all in easily enough. It was a long room, not too wide on account of the two rooms adjacent to it. Red velvet couches lined each side, set on little tracks so that they could fold in and complete a circle in the center of the room. Old fashioned oil lamps hung from the rafters, giving the room a smoky, ill-lit atmosphere. Sahara hissed quietly as she entered, her more sensitive nose finding offense at the heavy fumes. Luke made no sign of hearing it, but strode forward to the gap between the first set of couches. He bobbed his head respectfully to the man on the central couch.

The bulky figure nodded back. A fat hand clutching a thick Cuban cigar gestured for them to come before him. The two guards remained by the door as Sahara and Kyle filed in and stood in beside Luke. No one spoke while the man looked them over.

As far as mob bosses went, Marko struck Luke as very typical. Pinstriped suit, hefty girth but plenty of muscle remaining on his body. His eyes sat deep inside his eyebrows and his jaw hung like a pig. Cold, calculating intelligence glimmered in his bluish-green orbs as Marko took in their arrival. Chomping down on the cigar, he waved for them to sit down.

"Marko." Luke bobbed his head differentially. "Thank you for taking the time to meet."

"Time." The mob boss chuckled darkly. He took a long drag from his cigar and cast a watery smoke ring. "Time is something that I have in abundance now, thanks to that damned shapeshifting demon. Made business a little too thin for my liking."

Luke blinked slowly and tilted his head just slightly to the side, letting Marko know that he didn't care. Leaning back into the cushion, he crossed his arms. The motion did not deter the mob boss, who carried on. He waved his cigar grandly and adopted an injured expression.

"I offer valuable services to the community here. My drugs are clean, my drinks are cheap, and my girls get routine checkups. Tell me who else in this town is kind enough to take those steps. What I do is not only respectable, but it's honest. More honest than those fleabitten pencil pushers in City Hall, I can tell you that. Only, this demon-thing doesn't see it that way." He paused for effect and let out a heavy sigh. "It's hit three transactions in the past month alone. Trashed the goods, injured my men, and sent my contacts running underground. Slowed business to a crawl."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Marko shot them a sly look. Snuffing out the cigar, he put his hands together and pointed to Luke. "It's a terrible mess, just terrible. People come to me asking, when are the goods coming in? When can they get their cheap booze? And I'm forced to turn them away to the lowlifes that overcharge them for heavy water and diseased streetwalkers. It's not good for business, and it's not good for them. So when I hear that there's someone who excels in hunting animals and might be able to rid me of this infestation, I figure it is worth looking. Tell me, Mister Strickland. Are you worth looking into?"

"We're good" Luke assured him. "From what we've gathered already, this thing that's bothering you shouldn't stand a chance against us. You know how the English hunted, yes?"

Marko's face scrunched up in curiosity. Luke gave him a conspiratorial wink.

"They sent the dogs in first." He patted Sahara's shoulder. Her muscles tightened, but she held her composure. Luke squeezed her comfortingly, a motion that went unnoticed as Marko let his eyes roam across her. This was why they had asked her to wear the outfit over something more comfortable. Marko's attention seemed split between Luke and Sahara, and that made him vulnerable. A distracted man was a man they could push. "And the gentlemen kill the boar as it runs away."

Marko's bulk shook with laughter and he clapped his knee. "She's a little too catty for a dog, but I like the analogy. Hmm… I wonder, does she talk, this hunting bitch of yours?"

Sahara's muscles rippled with anger. Luke squeezed a little tighter. Cupping her chin, he pulled her eyes away so that she could have a moment of release. Murder flashed in her eyes, then returned to the dull, vacant expression she had to maintain. Luke shrugged and released her face.

"Not really. She understands a bit, but she's altogether more animal than human. Almost like having a pet tiger. Right, Sahara?"

Staying in character, she stared blankly ahead. Marko leaned forward and for a moment Luke thought he might grab her. Instead Marko waved his hand in front of her eyes. When they didn't so much as twitch, he whistled and sat back.

"She looks a little dead to me. How do you control her?"

Luke held up a remote. He pressed the power button and a light on her collar began flashing. The collar was a dud, but Marko did not need to know that.

"Mostly voice commands, but we buzz her when we need to."

"Interesting." Marko nodded his approval. "Yes, I think you will be just the team we need to deal with this creature. How does twenty thousand sound?"

Luke turned to Kyle and they exchanged a long look. It was more for Marko's benefit; they didn't care what the pay was because they had plans for Marko when this was all done. After what he deemed was an appropriate pause, Luke turned back and smiled.

"We can do that. Cash, if you please. Get us a meeting to suss out and we can guarantee you the catch. We'll give you the creature in a bag."

"That, I can do." Marko pulled a phone out of his pocket and began dialing. "I have a ship waiting to dock. They've been sitting there for a few days, and their cargo is a little… hot, if you catch my drift. It'll be along the river, in the abandoned factories area."

Luke nodded and stood up. He tossed a business card onto the table. "We'll start heading that way now to scope out the area. Forward the meeting information to this number, and you'll have the creature by lunch tomorrow."

They started to leave, but Marko called for them to wait. "One last thing, Mister Strickland."

Luke waved for Kyle to relax. "Yes?"

"If this thing is just an animal, I want it dead. If it's something more though, some shapeshifter mutant or whatever, I want it alive. It'll suffer long and hard for the trouble it's caused me."

Luke offered a professionally blank stare. "Price the same either way?"

Marko thought about it, then shook his head. "An extra five if it's human and you take it alive."

"Done."

They left the bar and didn't slow down until they reached the car. Sahara slid into the back and ripped the collar from her throat the instant the doors unlocked. Hissing in irritation, she rubbed the disturbed fur smooth and caught Luke's eyes through the rearview mirror.

"That man is swine."

"Well, he is a mob boss."

"I will enjoy bringing him to justice." Sahara slid a jacket on and began buckling her sword and pistol into their proper places. She patted him on the shoulder when she finished. "I am ashamed to say that even our culture has not rid ourselves of such vermin. Do you have a plan for dealing with him?"

"Once we get our mutant." Luke pulled out of the parking space and started down the street. His eyes darted this way and that as they left the more notorious alleys of New Orleans. "Don't worry about him. He'll get his."

Turning off the main road, Luke took them through a series of side streets and alleys that eventually landed them on the river. He checked his phone, noted a new email, and passed it off for Kyle to read. Kyle rattled off an address, then started giving directions once he had punched it into the phone's GPS.

"Marti." Luke flipped his radio on. "You reading us?"

"Clear as a mud, Chief. Since there are three of you in the vehicle, I'm assuming you are all in one piece."

"Sure." Luke motioned to Kyle and took the phone. "I'm going to give you an address. Can you give us a recon on it?"

"Putting it in now. The SHIELD satellite is entering target window now. It'll give thermal and night lens view. Would you prefer I forward it to you or advise from here?"

"Keep it on your side" Luke answered. "Just make sure that you don't get bored. I don't want any unpleasant surprises."

"Okay… thermal imaging shows the place is clear. If that changes, you will be the first to know."

New Orleans, Warehouse

Luke checked his earpiece again. It was a bad habit, something that he had picked up after a faulty radio had nearly blown a mission in Afghanistan. His contact, a swarthy man named Ichabod, shot him a queer look.

"You nervous?"

"Of the animal, no." Luke made a show of looking about at the entrances. The warehouse opened up onto the river so boats could come directly in for unloading. There were about a dozen men hanging around to receive the shipment. Kyle and Sahara were outside, prowling the rooftops. Sahara's nose and Kyle's affinity to the birds made them excellent scouts. Whichever direction the mutant came from, they would know.

"You should be." The man shuddered. "They say it eats the hearts of those it kills."

"That sounds like something out of a myth." Luke shook his head. "Whatever this thing is, it won't be a problem. Animals are all alike. No matter what breed it is, it is still just an animal."

"Tough talk." The man snickered. "Let's hope it's more than that."

The boat came in quietly. The modified engines were near silent on the water. Four men stood in the boat, armed. Their eyes were peeled as they guided the boat in and tossed their ropes over. The men worked quickly and efficiently. They wasted no time except for fearful glances in the direction of the doors and windows.

Luke stepped away and turned his back on them. He dismissed the man, hoping he would go away. He didn't. The man stayed close enough to listen in. Marko must have told him to keep an eye on them.

"Report in."

Their responses were slow in coming. It did not matter to Luke, he knew they were on top of things. While he waited he studied the entryways again. They said it came as a wolf, or some kind of wolfhound. That meant it would come in low. This was an abandoned warehouse with plenty of gaps and holes in the ground-floor walls. A wolf could sneak through any number of them.

"Kyle here." He spoke in a slow, clear rhythm. "I think I've spotted our bandit. Coming in from the west, near the water."

"Roger that."

"She's a beauty. Gray fur, sleek coat. If she were a true wolf I'd hang her pelt over my door."

"What?" Luke glanced to the west. He knew Kyle was up there somewhere. "What?"

"Never mind." There was a sigh. "Humor is wasted on the living."

"If you are done with your banter." Sahara cut in on the line. "Should you need me in the warehouse or on the perimeter?"

"Stay on the perimeter" Luke ordered. "If she tries to run I'll need you to corner her."

"It will do." Her line buzzed. "I will do. Apologies."

"Not bad" Kyle said. "You've been on the planet for how long?"

"Long enough."

"Kyle, focus on the here and now." Luke slipped the hunting rifle from his shoulder. He had created it a while ago, before the men arrived. Better to not reveal he was a mutant as well. "Let me know her entrance vector."

"Still on the water. I think she's going to slink in through a hole in the wall. There is a bit that's patched up with sheet metal. I pulled it back earlier when we were scouting the place out. Look for her there."

"Got it." Luke searched out the spot. Finding it, he purposefully stood with his back to the wall. "Let me know when she enters."

He did not have long to wait. Barely a minute later Kyle popped his radio. "Bogie is in the house."

Luke took a deep breath. He listened, unable to hear the wolf. But he smelled it. Smelled the heavy scent of wet dog. It was there alright. Sliding the bolt back, he hand-loaded a cartridge. When he spun to shoot, it didn't even have time to yip.