Logan, Warren, Betsy and Ray gathered at Warren's apartment in Paris, bringing the Hydra soldier with them. He had been quick to tell Warren everything he knew about Hydra, but as Logan had expected he actually knew very little. He couldn't tell them who was the leader of Hydra, nor could he tell them what Hydra was planning to do. All he knew was that he and his fellow soldiers had been given orders to kill the informant in Paris. And the vital bit of information Logan had been looking for - where Hydra's base was. The soldier had told them that he had been stationed in northern Russia - close to the port town of Murmansk.
Logan knew quite a bit about Murmansk; he had been there a couple of times in his life. It was the largest city above the Artic Circle in the world, it had a population of over four hundred and fifty thousand, and it was a major fishing port in Russia - one of the most important ones since it was never closed by ice due to warm ocean currents extending from the North Atlantic Drift, which kept it open all year round.
Now that Logan had a location of where exactly Hydra was based, he was ready to hunt them down and exact his revenge for their attempted double-crossing. Whilst Warren, Betsy and Ray sat around the coffee table conversing, Logan was stowing the gear he would need in a bag. Murmansk would be cold at this time of year - about minus ten degrees Celsius, he was expecting.
"Hey Warren, thanks for your help." He didn't bother to look at Warren as he said this; instead he just concentrated on packing.
"I have to say, you sparked my curiosity as to who had resurrected my organisation. So when do we leave for Murmansk?"
Logan turned to face him when he said this. "I didn't mind you coming to help me in Paris, but you're not coming to Murmansk with me."
"You can't just give orders to us," Betsy said heatedly, but Warren placed a calming hand on her shoulder.
"I still have no idea as to the identity of my successor. If Murmansk will lead me to the answers, then Murmansk is where I will go."
"I work better alone," Logan growled angrily.
"You intend to take on the whole of Hydra by yourself?" Warren smiled as he said this.
"They've got sloppy. In the old days that kind of mess earlier would never have happened. I can take care of myself."
"I'm coming with you Logan, whether you want me to or not. With us with you, you'll have a better chance of survival."
Logan and Warren stared at each other for a several long seconds, before Logan looked away. "Fine, but I'm not looking out for you," he spat before stalking off into a bedroom.
"I believe we should all follow Logan's example, it'll be a hard day tomorrow and we need all the sleep we can get."
"I'll take the first watch," Betsy volunteered. "I'll come and wake you up later Ray." He nodded in agreement and went to his room, leaving Warren and Betsy alone together.
"Betsy, I know you have a history with Logan but perhaps you could put aside your feelings, for the good of this mission?"
"He's nothing but a filthy animal!" Betsy spat, and Warren was shocked by the pure hatred he detected in his bodyguard's voice.
"He's also the best chance we have of getting out of Hydra's base alive," Warren reminded her, "so if you could try and reconcile your differences for this mission it would be very helpful."
"I'll try, but I'm not making any promises." Betsy turned to face Warren, suddenly very earnest. "I don't trust him. He knows something more about Hydra, something that he's not telling us."
"I got that impression too, but we can't force him to tell us anything. For now we'll just have to trust him…"
"We could be walking into a trap!"
"No. He was sincere when he said he wanted revenge on Hydra. He is not going to betray us."
Unbeknownst to Warren and Betsy, Logan was listening to their conversation - his door opened a fraction of an inch. As he heard Betsy talk, he smiled - she had always been a smart girl. And she was right; Logan did know something he wasn't telling them. But it was a trivial matter really, or so he thought. Although, if Hydra were willing to silence him over it, how trivial was it really?
Lance Alvers stared at the devastation caused by the Louvre bombing and shook his head angrily. So many lives had been cruelly cut short and for what? A display of anger on a global scale? It made Lance feel sick.
It also reminded him of the recent death of his best friend and fellow Excalibur agent, Pietro Maximoff. He had died senselessly as well, but what made it even worse was that Lance knew he could have saved him and he failed to do so.
Lance's train of thought was cut short when his fellow Excalibur operative, Forge, approached him. Forge had taken over from Hank McCoy as Excalibur's resident gadgeteer when Hank had been killed in Tokyo. However, Forge was also a capable field agent and often accompanied other agents into the field.
"Found anything interesting?"
"Nothing," Lance sighed. "The people who did this were smart, they didn't leave any traces. Real professionals.
"How about you, did you get anything from the security systems?"
Forge pondered his answer for a few moments. "Nothing major," he said slowly. "Only, one of the cameras did pick up something. It's very blurry mind you, and I had to use one of my devices to magnify and clear it up but… well here it is." Forge handed Lance a still from a CCTV film.
Lance studied the still for a long time before speaking. "That's impossible. You know it's impossible, don't you?"
"I didn't suggest anything," Forge protested his innocence. "I'm just showing you what I saw."
Lance shook his head and handed the still back. "We've got to get back to London and show that to Xavier. Maybe he can make some sense of it."
Phase two of Hydra's plans was being delayed, and the director despised delays. A rich businessman - Sergei Ulmanov - was demanding an extra two million US dollars for his silence, and the director was sick and tired of his demands. Therefore she had dispatched one of her agents to send him a message.
Normally a veteran Hydra agent would have been dispatched to do this, but the agent assigned to this mission was on his first mission ever. The agent was at the moment entering a carnival close to Kandalaksha. He was clad in a crisp dark grey suit with tinted glasses, although he was wearing green contact lenses to disguise his true identity. His dark brown hair was brushed in a severe side parting, but there was a rogue strand that constantly fell into his face and he constantly brushed away. In his right hand he carried a black leather briefcase.
The carnival was quite large - there were several large marquees, a tall multi-coloured Ferris wheel and in the centre was the tall tower, dating back from world war two, that the carnival was built around. The tower had been updated to make it modernised and now the agent stepped into the lift, which would take him to the very top of the tower - almost fifty metres above the ground.
On the top floor several thickset men in dark suits stood at strategic positions. The agent knew why there was such heavy security - the young daughter of Mr Ulmanov was going to be giving a recital in about ten minutes and the businessman was taking no chances. The agent walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked out at the rudimentary stage that had been set up for the recital. He could see people scurrying around like ants and after several minutes, he saw the limousine pull up. Two bodyguards got out, followed by Mr Ulmanov's daughter.
The agent stayed staring at the ground, until the guard standing next to him moved off, presumably to talk to one of his companions. Instantly the agent strode over to the door labelled 'No Entry', silently opened it and slipped through it. The door led to a flight of stairs that would lead to the roof of the tower. The agent ran up them and upon reaching the tower's roof, opened his briefcase. He swiftly constructed the Barret M107 sniper rifle that had been hidden in his briefcase.
He set the tripod up on the edge of the tower roof, then lay down and sighted the barrel towards the stage. Peering through the scope, he could see what was going on onstage as if he was there himself. When Mr Ulmanov's daughter reached centre stage, the agent reached into a pocket and pulled his mobile phone from his pocket. He firmly pressed the 9 key and the Ferris wheel suddenly ground to a juddering halt.
There was a lot of screaming and bodyguards sprinted towards the motionless Ferris wheel, believing that an attack would be coming from there. Meanwhile the agent calmly sighted down the scope, stopped breathing and pulled the trigger. As soon as he had done so he stood up, folding the sniper rifle up and returning it to its hiding place. He didn't look to see if his bullet had hit the target. He didn't have to.
As soon as the bodyguards heard the shot from the tower, they changed direction and sprinted for the tower. However the sound of helicopter blades made them look up. A sleek black helicopter flew over the tower and lowered a line to the agent, who grabbed hold of it and was pulled up just as the first bodyguard got onto the tower roof.
As the helicopter flew away the agent stared down at the podium, where he could just make out the form of his target, lying motionless on the floor. The .50 calibre bullet would have entered the right side of her forehead and emerged just to the left of the top of her spine, killing her instantly.
Pulling off his wig, and removing the tinted glasses and contact lenses Pietro Maximoff allowed himself a slight smile. He'd forgotten how good it truly felt to be conducting business.
Thank you for your reviews DemonRogue 13 and Karakin, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.