"italics": Translated from Spanish.
Nuevo Laredo smelled like any other Mexican border town; au de open sewer. Logan's inner beast was howling from the assault on its senses. He attempted to shut it up by feeding it shots of Tequila for several hours. The beast approved of the drink but still gagged from the smells. Ignoring the petulant grumbling from his other self, Logan made his way to the hotel. He decided to get a few hours sleep first. He would check out Tessa's room at night when the housekeeping staff was at a minimum.
He woke at midnight. Creeping soundlessly down the hallway, he found Tessa's room by her scent. He paused outside the door, listening. The room was empty. He popped a claw and slid it into the lock. With a deft flick, the door sprang open. He closed it behind him as he strode into the room. Maid service had been there. The room was clean and tidy. Her scent was three days old so she hadn't been back since the last time she called her father. He picked up the scent of two strangers, a man and a woman, both less than a day old, but no others. There wasn't any scent of fear or anger in the room and no sign of a struggle. She wasn't taken from the room.
He opened the closet and found her clothes hung in a neat row. Designer labels abounded in her wardrobe. The clothing was stylish but simple. He slid the dresser drawer open and found her underwear piled in like she had just dumped them there. It didn't seem likely. She was too neat to just throw expensive lingerie in a drawer. The maid or the bellboy had probably searched the room after she disappeared. He wondered what they were looking for. He closed the drawer and looked around the room.
A flash of metal caught his eye on the other side of the room. Walking over to the bed, he found a set of keys on the nightstand. Where ever she went, it was on foot. He pocketed the keys and went in search of the car.
The parking lot wasn't well lit, for which Logan was grateful. He would have looked like a fool walking up and down the rows, sniffing each car. He knew from the key that she drove an older model Ford but old cars were plentiful here. After fifteen minutes of searching, he found it. A red 1969 Mustang rag top in mint condition. He passed his hands lovingly over the hood. She had great taste in cars.
"Can I help you?" the question came from behind him. Logan had heard the man approach.
"Just admiring the car," he told the man. "We don't see these too often anymore."
"It's a beauty, isn't it?"
"It sure is. Do you know who owns it?"
"A guest at the hotel. I've been keeping an eye on it for her."
"I'm in room 513. Could you tell her I might be interested in buying it?"
"I'll tell her next time I see her."
"Thanks," he said as he walked away. He had located one of the scents he found in the room. The man in the parking lot had been in Tessa's room in the last twenty-four hours.
He walked down the street following the trace of Tessa's scent still lingering in the air. His nose led him to a crowded bar five blocks from the hotel. The two girls were still together when they went in. Now to find out if they left together. He pushed his way through the crowd to the bar and grabbed a seat.
"Beer," he told the bartender. "And keep it comin." The bartender placed a Corona on the bar. Logan made a face but drank it anyway.
After his fourth beer, he began to question the bartender. He asked about the business and the city. The man was proud of his success and he had no trouble talking about his clientele. When Logan asked about American women, the bartender flinched slightly.
"They can be very aggressive," he claimed. "Three nights ago, I had to toss two of them out after they got drunk and were climbing all over my customers."
"How many did they have?" Logan asked.
"One of them had three beers," he said. "The other had only one. I guess they can't hold their liquor."
"Or maybe they had more than beer," he growled.
"No drugs in my place," the bartender protested. "I run a clean bar."
"Yeah," Logan said as he finished his drink. "I'm sure ya do."
He fought his way back through the crowd and left the bar. Looking around, he saw an alley running along side the building. It was dark and dirty. Trash cans were strewn around haphazardly. The scent of blood, death and Tessa hit him as the wind shifted. He weaved around piles of trash as he made his way to the end of the alley and squatted. A large pool of blood had dried in the dirt near the back of the bar but the scent wasn't Tessa's. Her friend had died here. A second, much smaller pool of blood that smelled strongly of the missing girl was in front of the rear door of the club. She was hurt. He stood and left the alley, picking up a tail as he went.
He slowly walked back toward the hotel, making sure his tail could follow in the late night crowd. He didn't want to loose them in the confusion. He had questions he wanted answered. He decided to take it slow and let them make the first move. He stopped under a street lamp to light a cigar and take a peek at the two men following him. A pair of police men paused to inspect a closed jewelry store as he stopped and puffed on his cigar. He opened his mouth and blew smoke rings at the street lamp over his head. The breeze brought the scent of the officers to him. Setting the scents in his memory, he turned and resumed his walk. Neither man made any attempt to stop him. 'At the hotel then,' he thought.
As he approached the hotel, his tail dropped off. The doorman opened the door as they turned and left. He picked up his key and went to his room. He showered and shaved then waited in the bed, pretending sleep. The attack came a hour later.
He heard the click of a key in the lock and tensed. The lights had been doused in the hall so he got a good look at the interloper; the guy from the parking lot. A gun barrel flashed in the moonlight from the window as the intruder crept to the bed. Logan felt the bed dip as the assailant placed a knee next to his hip. The cold gun barrel pressed against his temple. In a flash he popped the claws of his left hand and brought them up, slicing off the hand at the wrist. Blood sprayed over the bed, landing on Logan's face with a hot splash. His inner beast growled in anticipation. The man shrieked in pain. Grabbing his fiery wrist with his other hand, he fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Logan was on him instantly, his claws pressed up the man's nose.
"Wrong move, bub," he growled. The punk was wearing the uniform of a bell cap from the hotel.
"Please don't kill me," the punk begged.
"Talk," he snarled.
"I was told to keep an eye out for someone looking for the girl," the man cried.
"Who pays you?" He pressed down on the bleeding wrist.
"I don't know," he screamed. "The money is left at the front desk."
"Why try to kill me?" he asked, sitting back on the bed.
"You ask questions. I was told to stop them," he whimpered. "I'm bleeding to death."
"Yes," Logan told him flatly.
"You're not going to help me?" he asked incredulously.
"Nope," Logan said, retracting his claws and leaning back to light a cigar.
"Why?" he yelled.
"You play the game, you pay the price. You tell me what they did with the girl, I might help you. You don't, you die."
"El Gato took her," the man whimpered.
"Who is El Gato?"
"Recruiter," he gasped, loosing blood rapidly.
"Where is he," Logan growled. The man's lips began to turn blue as his blood drained onto the carpeted floor.
"Bar. You went to last night. Office in the back. Help me," he pleaded, his speech slurred.
"Too late," Logan said coldly.
He showered, dressed and packed his bag in less than fifteen minutes, ignoring the bloody mess on the floor. He tossed his key and a wad of cash on the front desk.
"Your bellboy snuck into my room this morning," he told the desk clerk. "You might want to have the maid clean him up." The sun was rising as he left the hotel.
He jumped into his Jeep and left town. He would need to rest and stay out of the way of the local police. He found an abandoned shack on a lonely stretch of road a few miles from town that looked like to may have been a hideout for the local kids and bedded down. He set his internal clock to wake him at sundown and drifted off to sleep.
He woke shortly before sunset to the faint sound of a heavy truck on the road. It was still far enough away that he had time to pack his bedroll and erase all traces of his nap from the house. The Jeep was hidden in a culvert a half mile behind the house so he didn't have to worry about alerting them with road dust as he drove away. He dropped his pack in the Jeep and made his way back to the house. He had just enough time to slip into the growing shadows before the truck crested the hill near the shack.
He could hear the shrieking of a very angry woman as the truck drew nearer but he couldn't make out the words. The truck grumbled past his position, gears grinding as the driver downshifted. Dust and diesel exhaust filled his nose, obliterating all traces of human scent. 'Damn,' he thought. 'Hafta do this the hard way.'
He waited for the truck to disappear over the hill two miles west of the shack. As soon as it was out of sight, he made his way back to the Jeep. The engine roared to life and he pulled the vehicle forward and up the side of the culvert. Pulling out onto the dirt road, he followed the truck. He thought about stopping at the next town and calling Fury but discarded the idea quickly. Fury wouldn't help in this. He couldn't afford to get involved in a kidnapping unless the victim was a danger to national security. As far as Logan knew, she was just the daughter of a high powered Senator, not a government employee. No, he was on his own and if he was caught, Fury would leave him to roast.
He drove through the night, keeping the truck in sight but in the distance. Just after four by his internal clock, he lost the truck on the hilly road. Curses colored the air as he backtracked to the last turnoff. He parked the Jeep on the side of the road and got out, sticking a sign on the windshield that said he was out of gas. He made his way to the turnoff, careful not to disturb the tire tracks. He found his own tracks, heading southwest but not the tracks of a large truck. He continued to walk, looking for the signs.
He found it three miles back. The truck had turned off onto a small, scrub covered road that looked too used in this back country area of Mexico. He bent down by a sage near the edge of the track and popped a claw and began to dig. About four inches down, he found a thick steel grid that reinforced the dirt road to allow the heavy truck to use it without becoming mired in the soft soil. Someone had a lot of money floating around. This kind of work didn't come cheap.
He sniffed the air experimentally. No clear scents yet. It was far off. He returned to the Jeep and grabbed his pack. He pulled a half dozen bottles of water from the cooler in the back and shoved them into the pack. He grabbed several packs of jerky from the glove compartment and jammed them into his pockets. Slinging the pack onto his back, he made his way back to the road.
He followed the road until the sky began to lighten with false dawn when he abandoned the open, exposed road for the safety of the scrub and rocks. He found a rocky outcropping far enough away that he wouldn't be spotted from the road but close enough that he could observe the traffic and hunkered down. He ate three pieces of jerky and drank half a bottle of water before opening his bedroll and climbing in, his senses alert to any movement.
He woke several times to the sound of heavy trucks on the road and twice to a horse patrol. The trucks he didn't worry about. They weren't a danger to him. The horse patrols he observed carefully. They were armed with high powered rifles with what appeared to be night scopes. Those were useless during the day but were a concern at night. He made a mental note to take them out at the first opportunity.
At nightfall, he began to move again, slipping into ultra stealth mode. He moved away from the road, following it at a distance. The horse patrols were not in evidence until later in the night. He found one pair by a stream as they watered their horses. He slipped up behind them silently and took them out. He didn't want to take the horses. That would make him easy to track so he tethered them near the stream. He grabbed the supplies and the guns from the saddles and left the area quickly. He buried the guns a mile away from the stream and added the supplies to his own.
An hour before daybreak, he saw a large warehouse in the distance, a power generating shack several hundred yards south of it. He decided that he would have a better chance of getting the girl out under the cover of darkness. He broke into the shack just as the sun was breaking the eastern horizon and hunkered down to wait. It was impossible to sleep there. Too many people passed by the shack to allow his guard down. He resigned himself to a restless doze when he could. He spent the time translating the labels on the power control panel and catching rats.
He waited until full night to act. He grabbed a rat in a gloved hand and lifted it to his eyes.
"Sorry bub," he apologized to the rat. "Ya just volunteered ta sacrifice yerself for the greater good." He jammed the it into the control panel, electrocuting the rat and shorting out the compound lights. Total darkness descended on the buildings. Shouts of confusion filled the air as he quietly left the shack and made his way to the warehouse.
He slipped through the door and began to work, quickly and quietly, a minimum of movement. The building was partition like a maze with steel walls. Not a problem. He never got lost. Scents floated to him on the recirculated breeze. He could smell four female scents. Two were unfamiliar. One was Tessa. The fourth… He began to growl in menace. What the hell was she doing here? She was supposed to be safe in LA with her aunt, going to high school, having a normal life. He worked faster, killing as he went. He cleared the building of any live body except the four he smelled earlier. He made his way to the center of the maze where he found a large steel bar cage holding three women and one pint sized pain in his ass.
"Jubilation Lee," he growled, "ya get yerself in ta more trouble."
The tiny girl spun around, crying "Wolvie!" A Genoshan collar sat heavily on her neck.
"How'd ya get collared this time?" he demanded, hands on his hips.
"Save the lecture and get us out," she hissed. "They'll be back soon."
"Nah," he said as he slipped a claw into the lock. "Only place they're going is ta hell." A quick twist of the wrist and the lock clicked open.
"Get this thing offa me," Jubilee said as she turned her back to him. He examined the collar closely in the dim light.
"Can't do it darlin'," He told her. "This is one that'll explode if ya force the lock. Gotta find a key."
"Where?" she asked. He pointed to the biggest concentration of bodies and she ran off. He turned to the remaining frightened prisoners.
"You Tessa?" he rumbled to the one he knew to be the Senators' daughter. She nodded warily. "Yer dad sent me ta find ya and bring ya home." She visibly relaxed.
"Thank God," she breathed.
"Got one," Jubilee yelled as she ran back to the group. She slapped the key into Logans' hand and turned around, baring her neck.
"Ya don't need ta yell, kid," he said as he fitted the key into the lock of the collar. He turned it and with a click, the collar opened. She grabbed the collar and flung it as far as she could throw it.
"I hate those things," she muttered. "Let's go. I'm missing school and I've already been suspended. I don't want ta get expelled."
"Do you know him?" Tessa asked her.
"Yeah," she said fondly. "He's only my best friend in the whole world."
"I love ya too, darlin'," he smiled, his eyes warm with love. Tessa was amazed. Here was a fierce, wild man who looked very capable of tearing the little girl apart with his bare hands, melting into a puddle at her feet. She shook her head in confusion.
The group worked their way to the door, passing several bodies as they went.
"Jeeze, Wolvie," Jubilee complained. "Did ya hafta kill em all?"
"Caught yer scent when I came in," he said chagrined. "Ya know what that does ta me. Douse the lights, will ya." Jubilee paffed the overhead light, plunging the area into darkness. He cracked open the door and peered out, sniffing.
"How many?" Jubilee whispered.
"Five," he gave a low growl. "None close. Stay low and work yer way ta the trees. Ya see anything move, freeze. Movement'll catch the eye. Wait fer me where yer safe. Jubes'll know where." He slipped off his pack and gave it to Jubilee. They all nodded and slipped out of the door and into the night. He watched as Jubilee directed the small group with simple hand gestures. He grinned, satisfied that Jubilee would take care of them until he could catch up. He slipped into the night, hunting the remaining slavers.
Jubilee lead the three frightened women into the scrub near the warehouse with carefully placed steps. She motioned for them to follow her steps exactly. A light flashed in the distance. She hit the dirt on her stomach and motioned the rest of them down. They lay there until the light turned and headed in another direction. She got up slowly and continued, keeping an eye on the light. It jumped slightly and disappeared. She'd found Wolverine. They continued to make their way to the trees.
It took them fifteen minutes to get to the edge of the tree line. She waved them in and told them to hide in a tree until she called. The women scattered. A twig snapped further into the forest. She crept off at an angle to investigate. She found two men and their horses at a small stream which ran through the trees. The men had dismounted and were standing together, smoking cigarettes and talking in low voices. She slipped behind a large live oak in back of the horses and waited until the animals had returned to drinking. When they were calm, she reached out with both hands and sent two small concentrated paffs into the horses' rumps. Squealing with pain and terror, they bolted out of the stream and into the trees, the men chasing them. She smiled with satisfaction. It would be several miles before they could stop the runaway horses and remount. By the time the men returned, they would be long gone. She went back to the others and climbed a large pecan tree to wait for Logan's return.
Ten minutes later, he was standing at the base of the tree, calling her down. She swung her lithe body to the forest floor and told the others to come out. The three women crept back to Jubilee, fearful of what they would find. Logan took his pack from Jubilee and hoisted it onto his back.
"C'mon," he said to them. "I want ta get as many miles between us and this place as I can." He started off for the road. Jubilee shrugged her shoulders and followed, the others trailing behind her.
"Suspended, huh," Logan said. "How'd that happen?"
"Got in a fight," She shrugged.
"Ya ain't supposed ta be fightin at school," he growled.
"Gimme a break," she rolled her eyes, "I was defending someone. The suspension was overruled by the counselor anyway. I got made a peer counselor instead. I hated that but I got outta it."
"How'd ya do that?" he asked suspiciously.
"I caught Ms. Kingsley and Mr. Avery making out in her office," she giggled.
"Blackmail," he said, nodding approvingly.
"Yep," she agreed. "Works every time."
They made it to the rocky outcropping by late afternoon where they stopped to rest. He gave them food and water and suggested they sleep for a while. Jubilee volunteered to take the first watch. Logan was tired enough to agree. He smiled fondly at the girl who was a partner and so much more to him as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.