Not entirely proud of this chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.

TW: Yep.

The Kaiser: Thank you for pointing that out to me.

Canada

Mid-morning

Outside a bar, a van pulled up into the parking lot. In the driver's seat, Oliver looked back at where Clint and Dragon were sitting.

"Remind me why we're at a bar?" Oliver asked dryly.

"The guns Guggenheim supplied to Stryker's men have a built in tracer. When they figured out we started tracking it here, they turned it off but the last known reading we had was about half a mile from this bar. So we're gonna check it out while Dragon looks through the parking lot," Clint explained.

"You really think Stryker's men are stupid enough to head to the closest location where they were tracked heading?" Oliver asked doubtfully.

"You'd be surprised just how arrogant black ops teams can be sometimes," Dragon said with a shrug.

"Besides, they were in this area for a reason. Can't hurt to head inside for a look, ask some questions," Clint pointed out.

Clint had a point, Oliver acknowledged silently. And a voice that sounded suspiciously like Quentin Lance told him that asking questions couldn't hurt.

So, they all got out of the car, Oliver and Clint heading inside while Dragon roamed the parking lot. As they stepped inside, Oliver's first thought was it was a poor excuse for a bar compared to the ones back in Starling City. It reminded him more of the Bratva's bar in Russia, a few tables with a bar up front. There were three people inside excluding the bar tender.

"I'll handle the customers, you get the bartender," Clint said and Oliver nodded his agreement.

As Clint walked around talking to the customers, Oliver walked up to the bartender, a woman who looked around Sara's age last time he had seen her. Oliver paused as he thought of Sara before banishing the thought. He needed to focus.

"Hey, what's your poison?" she asked with a friendly smile.

"Full disclosure, I'm FBI," Oliver said, pulling out a fake badge and she frowned. "I'm looking for a few people, they might have been here. Did you see anyone out of the ordinary pass by in the last few hours?"

"Now that you mention it, there were a couple of guys in here earlier," the bartender said as she frowned in concentration. "They were asking a bunch of weird questions."

"What kind of questions?" Oliver inquired.

"What kind of customers we get, how often we get out of towners. I think they were looking for someone to, they had a picture and asked me if I'd seen this guy," the bartender said.

"Listen, it's very important if you can describe the man in the picture," Oliver said and she thought for a moment.

"Caucasian, Early to mid-thirties, dark hair that's kind of wild, light brown eyes, really hot in an 'I'm dangerous' kind of way," the bartender shrugged.

"What'd they ask about him?" Oliver inquired.

"If he'd been in the bar, which he was. He blew through here yesterday, stopped for a drink then went on his way," the bartender said.

"You think you could draw me a picture?" Oliver asked.

Later, out in the van, Oliver showed Clint and Dragon the picture of the man Stryker's men had been looking for.

"Either of you ever seen this guy before?" Oliver asked and they both shook their heads.

"No. But if Stryker's men are after him, that's enough reason for us to find him," Clint noted.

"To help him or bring him in?" Oliver inquired.

"That depends on him. We're kind of going in blind Oliver," Clint pointed out.

"According to some of people in the parking lot, one guy saw a van with these guys and got a look in the back. There were guns in there," Dragon informed him.

"So we're on the right track then," Oliver noted.

"Guess we don't have any more time to waste," Clint said as he moved into the front seat. "Get ready boys. I think we're about to meet our friends with guns. Stryker's men have a few hours ahead of us, at least, so we need to get moving."

Clint pressed a button near the wheel and the van gave a lurch before they began pulling out of the parking lot at surprising speed for a van. Oliver and Dragon each grabbed onto a seatbelt, barely managing to buckle themselves in as Clint took off.

"A little warning would have been nice!" Dragon snapped and Clint only laughed.

Hours later, on the edge of the Canadian border, Logan, known to some as Wolverine, was at a gas station, filling up the tank for the last stretch of the trip. He sniffed the air, sensing someone was there, watching him. But he couldn't see who.

From a distance Oliver, Clint and Dragon watched him.

"That's definitely him," Dragon said as he looked down at the drawing of Logan before looking at the man himself. "So what do we do now? Just wait for them?"

"We were sent to see what exactly we're dealing with. We treat this like any other op. I'll go talk to him, you two wait, see if these guys show," Clint said as he headed towards the van. "If they do, you know what to do."

"You're in charge, like always," Dragon said with a shrug.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Oliver asked.

"If I don't, I'm sure you two can bail me out," Clint said with a smirk before getting in the van.

"Sometimes I think he just wings it," Dragon grumbled.

"He didn't get this far in SHIELD by winging it," Oliver said watching as Clint drove up to the gas station.

Logan looked over as Clint pulled up the pump next to him, getting out of the van.

"Hey. Nice bike," Clint mentioned as he moved towards the pump.

"So nice you just had to get a closer look?" Logan said sarcastically and Clint froze.

"You saw that?" Clint asked lowly.

"Something like that. Can I help you with something bub?" Logan demanded as Clint turned around to face him.

"The words 'Weapon X' mean anything to you?" Clint asked and a strange look crossed Logan's face before it hardened.

"No. Why?" Logan demanded testily.

"We're tracking people who seem to be after you. They keep calling you Weapon X. We want to help you, but you need to be straight with me," Clint told him.

Logan opened his mouth to reply but froze staring at Clint's shirt. Following his gaze, Clint saw a red dot on his shirt. Within seconds, three more had appeared. Raising his head, Clint saw several red dots on Logan's shirt.

"Looks like it's little late for that bub," Logan said lowly.

"Shit," Dragon swore as he and Oliver watched this.

"Any ideas?" Oliver asked.

Dragon didn't respond as, behind them, two men in tactical gear with assault rifles approached, seemingly undetected by the two men. But, when they were within a few feet of the pair, they struck. Oliver pulled out a flechette and threw it at one, getting him in the jugular. He stumbled back, gasping for breath as Dragon pulled out a gun, shooting the other man in the foot. He dropped his rifle as Dragon fired again, getting him in the head.

"That your team?" Logan asked as he and Clint heard the shots.

"Must be. Can't get to my weapons though," Clint said with a grumble.

"They in the van?" Logan questioned and Clint nodded. "Go get 'em."

"And get shot up?" Clint asked dryly.

"I'll cover you. Trust me, I can draw their attention," Logan assured him.

Clint stared at him for a moment nodding, reasoning that Logan wasn't likely to try anything that would get himself killed.

"On three. Three!" Logan shouted.

Clint immediately made a run towards the van, jumping inside as, with a roar, Logan jumped in front of him just before the shots fired. Inside the van, Clint watched horrified as Logan took all the bullets yet didn't fall. The shots stopped and there was silence for a moment. Then, from inside, Clint watched in disbelief as the bullet seemed to pop out of Logan, falling to the ground with clangs and his wounds seemed to heal within seconds.

"Get your gear bub. Time to go to work," Logan said, balling his hands into fists and summoning his claws.

"You think I'd be used to this kind of stuff after New York," Clint muttered as he grabbed his bow and quiver.

"Shit! What is this one made of?" one of Stryker's men asked alarmed at the sight of Logan's claws.

"Shut up and focus. This is what we were briefed on," another shouted at him.

At that moment, Clint jumped out of the van, an arrow notched and fired. The arrow lanced on the ground, in their feet. Stryker's men looked at it confused before it exploded, knocked them all back.

For a few moments, the team was on the ground, dazed, struggling to get up. Then, with a roar, Logan rushed in, cutting them all down within second, leaving only one alive.

"Why are you after me?!" Logan snarled, stomping on the man's wounded leg and he cried out in pain. "Start talking before I get mad."

"We were just following orders. We didn't ask questions," the man said weakly.

"Whose orders?" Logan demanded.

"Stryker's," the man said before letting out a gasp.

Logan smelled blood and realized the man had cut his abdomen on a rock in the explosion. Logan retracted his claws, reaching down and checking the man's pulse. He was gone.

"Hey," Clint said as he approached and Logan looked over his shoulder. "It's not safe here; we need to get out of here."

After a moment, Logan nodded before turning and following Clint. He didn't know where they were going, but as long as it was away from these bodies, Logan didn't partially care.

Logan has finally made his entrance. Next chapter, he and the SHIELD team will compare some notes.