What went before…

The most insidious villains of the Asian Sector are on the hunt for shards of the Bloodstone Helix, a hunt that has paired Natasha Romanoff with agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and MI-6, including Shang-Chi, Mater of Kung Fu!  After fighting and defeating a Silver Dreadnought Natasha’s battered, rag-tag band find themselves on their way to Japan, and hopefully answers!

Just another day in the life of the Beauteous Black Widow…

Clay Quartermain was right…

After a quick ascent to the Heli-Carrier Steranko via Vortex Beam from the carnage we left on Fifth Avenue in Brooklyn, we were hustled onto a trio of S.H.I.E.L.D. jump jets and swiftly shot skyward.  Not a pleasant ride as the jump jets hold only the pilot and two passengers in a tiny compartment and achieve mind-boggling speeds.  It’s a cramped ride and not for the faint of heart or constitution as the G-Forces of the vertical lift are nothing short of overwhelming.  If you stay awake to reach the apex of the launch however you get a chance to relax a bit as the Earth rotates under you and the jet speeds forward going against that flow on the edge of space.  And the view is to die for…

Well, I could have probably phrased that better but you get the point.

Four hours later and my hesitant comrades and I are not quite halfway around the world, the three jump jets in decent to land on the Heli-Carrier Kirby now stationed in the Asian Theater for the duration.  A quick layover there (AKA bathroom break) and then another gut-churning ride on another Vortex Beam.  Next stop…

Field 28
Tokyo International Airport
Tokyo, Japan

I have to admit that I was happy to see Jimmy Woo waiting on the tarmac for our arrival.  He was easy to spot even within the golden glow of the Vortex Beam that was made worse by the misty, drizzling rain that was falling.  He was wearing that slick black suit, a hold-over from another time, black Ray-Ban’s and had the perpetual glow of a cigarette bobbing in the dim about his probably frowning face.  I smiled happy that some things remained constant in the erratic universe that was my life.

We had heard bits and pieces through Clay Quartermain via S.H.I.E.L.D.’s private ‘Twitter’ network of Jimmy and Fury’s adventures.  A S.H.I.E.L.D. Relay Station that had been compromised- I.E. invaded.  How may had been slain was being kept under wraps but I knew that the death toll was probably in the hundreds.  Then they and a small compliment of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had been attacked by the Silver Samurai at the very field that we were about to set down on.  That worried me the most.

The Silver Samurai was supposed to be dead. Kenuichio Harada had died an honorable death after a lifetime of misguided adventures, and his name should not be sullied with a replacement.  But the name Silver Samurai also went hand in hand with Viper, and she was far from honorable.  One could easily assume that she was involved and that was where my worry came from.

I had had my encounters with Viper- formerly Madame Hydra, which was where she gained access to the Dreadnought no doubt.  Our most spectacular sparring occurred several years ago when she kidnapped and brainwashed me to get the specs needed to gain access to a S.H.I.E.L.D. Heli-Carrier that she intended to crash into the US Congress, throwing the United States into chaos and following her Anarchistic views and way of life.  Luckily Spider-Man, Nick and Shang-Chi coincidentally were on hand to help stop her.  That was not a pleasant time, and I wondered just what her goals were now.

The Vortex Beam finally relinquished us and we all sagged as gravity took hold.  I heard Leiko Wu wince as pain probably shot through her fractured arm.  We had debated her staying behind for awhile but she pointed out my own injured arm and broken ribs.  I heal faster than the average bear, but she did not need to know that, and I let my arguments drop.  Clive Reston and Shang-Chi both had her back and knew better than me.

Black Jack Tarr was the first to move from the effects of the Vortex Beam.  As soon as he touched Terra Firma and regained his sea legs he surged forward meeting the approaching James Woo and his honor guard well and away from the rest of us.  The Beam faded and I turned to see Reston huddled next to Leiko Wu and speaking softly with her.  Shang-Chi stood off and to the side obviously trying to ignore the pair.  I knew there was history there, and I also knew just how hard it was to move on so I stepped up to Shang-Chi and snapped him out of whatever reveries he was lost in.

“How you doing, Shang?”  He looked a little vacant as he turned and focused on me.  His bronzed skin sparkled in the misty rain as his dark eyes returned to the present.

“I am fine,” he said absently making the motion to slip his hands into the voluminous sleeves of his battle gi that he was not wearing.  Instead, like me, he was wearing a S.H.I.E.L.D. GIJOE suit; bluish-black poly-mesh body armor that left little to the imagination.  Figured he carried his fighting togs in his bike-messenger bag like me, hopefully cleaned during our short break on The Steranko as promised.

His eyes squinted as he looked up into the leaden clouds, ignoring the annoying spit of rain that spattered his face.  I followed his gaze and saw in the distance the ruddy glow of Tokyo’s industrial district.  I couldn’t see the structures that I knew were there, factories lining the harbor but the heat they were emitting lit up the sky reflecting off the low-hanging clouds.  If it weren’t for the filthy smoke pumping into the sky it would be almost pretty.

“Worried about your father’s involvement in all this?” I asked facing him again.  He returned my gaze and nodded almost imperceptibly.

“And my sister, Fah Lo Suee as well.  She sometimes works for my father, while at other times she has her own agenda.  Yet other times her goals seem the same yet she treads a parallel path.  Her thoughts are always elusive and intricate, her loyalties unclear until the very end of whatever she endeavors.  She is just as dangerous as our father, and in ways more so.”

I nodded in understanding.  Far too many people in our line of work that kept their hold card close to the chest until the very last moment.  Movement caught my eye before I could respond however as Tarr and Woo were approaching, both wearing grim faces.

“Fury is awaiting us,” Woo said blue smoke swirling on the slight breeze as he spoke.  “He wishes a conference, ASAP.”

“Bloody wonderful,” Reston’s voice rasped as he stepped up into the circle with Leiko Wu.  A cigarette hung limply from his lips as he turned his collar against the drizzle.  “Be nice ta get a bite ta eat, an’ god forbid a few winks.”

“There will be time after the meeting for food and rest,” Jimmy said flicking his cigarette to the damp tarmac as he strolled towards one of the waiting cars; the nondescript Japanese version of a government sedan.  He opened the rear passenger door to the lead car, indicating that I should get in as he gestured towards the other three Nissans for the MI-6 crew.  “He wishes to compare notes while all is fresh in your memories.  Also his time table is structured and limited.”

“And just where is the dear colonel?” Reston asked with a grunt as he followed Leiko Woo into the back of the second car while Tarr took the third with another Japanese agent who I later learned worked for MI-6 in Japan.

“He awaits us at the Imperial Embassy.”  Woo shut his door and indicated that the driver should depart.

West Shinjuku
Tokyo, Japan
Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building

I had not been to Tokyo in awhile but I was always impressed when I got there.  The West Shinjuku District held the city’s densest cluster of skyscrapers, most of which had started springing up after the rebuilding boom of 1923 when Tokyo was struck by a devastating earthquake.  Not quite as imposing as Manhattan’s famous skyline, it was more like Los Angeles, oddly reminiscent of the image of the glittering Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz movie.  Our small motorcade made the trip from the airport to the city’s hub in record time and soon the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, the Tocho loomed into view.  It was Tokyo’s tallest building just shy of 800 feet and modeled after the grand cathedral of Notre Dame in appearance with its twin towers rising high over the city and towering over the lesser buildings that made up the complex.

I was a bit surprised that we would be meeting Fury here rather than at a S.H.I.E.L.D. base.  Jimmy said that the government official that Nick was meeting with had a slight window of opportunity to speak with us, and that it was more convenient.  I shrugged, nodded and yawned all at the same time.  Reston was right, we needed a break.

Though the skies were still thick with clouds the rain had almost stopped when we reached the Plaza and disembarked.  We were ushered inside by Japanese government agents past troops that stood at stoic attention.  Like Manhattan, Tokyo and most of the larger cities of the Western World were perpetually on terrorist alert.  A quick elevator ride to the upper floors and we were all led to a conference room where I got a shock.

As expected Colonel Nicolas Fury Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. was there gnawing on the butt of a smoldering cigar and ignoring the laws banning such without a thought.  My surprise came from the man that stood at the floor to ceiling windows looking out at the ugly gray city that sprawled towards the horizon half-hidden by misty clouds and smog.  He was tall for a Japanese and lean, though fit wearing a sharply tailored gray suit and slender blue tie.  His jet-black hair swooped to the side and brushed his right eye, dark almond eyes piercing as he turned to greet us.

“Natasha Romanoff,” he said his voice dulcet his expression impassive.  “It has been some time.”

I knew that Shiro Yashida was high up in the Japanese hierarchy, and it seemed logical that he would be there.  He was head of Clan Yashida and related to the original Silver Samurai by a sister or cousin.  He was also deep into the Japanese government since retiring from the life of a super-hero, Sunfire.  He was a mutant and had fought Iron-Man and the X-Men, and had been an X-Man for a very short time.  Rumor mills stated that he was now the Emperor’s right hand; advisor and enforcer.

“Shiro,” I said bowing slightly, noting that his return bow was little more than a nod; arrogant bastard.  I stepped up to him even as Fury moved through the MI-6 crew with greetings and thanks.  “I didn’t expect to find you here.”

“Who better,” he said with a conceited smirk.  “I have knowledge of my cousin’s house and can perhaps enlighten you all.”  His smile faltered a bit.  “At least I hope to.”

“I hope so too,” I said eyeing the wet bar in the corner, a white-jacketed attendant standing at pristine attention beside it, ready to serve.  My gaze settled on the coffeepot and I sauntered over.

After a few minutes Fury finally got the ball rolling and we all took seats about the huge, oval cedar table.  Jimmy sat at my right dragging an ashtray within reach.  Fury to my left at the head of the table opposing Shiro at the far end.  There were a couple others beyond Shang and crew, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents I assumed interspersed in the gathering.  An aide stood to Fury’s left, dropping a file folder on the table before him, which Fury opened and started thumbing through.

“I’ll get right ta the point,” Fury said shifting the butt of his cigar to the other corner of his mouth.  “I dunno what the hell is goin’ on.  I hope this little confab will tie up some loose ends.  First I wanna hear what happened in Brooklyn.”

Black Jack Tarr took the floor relating our Park Slope adventure and fighting the Silver Dreadnought as well as our initial meeting in the apartment of Sami Radii, recently deceased brother to the Indian Ambassador Praia Radii who was killed under my watch; both recipients of a shard of the Bloodstone Helix that seems to be the focus of all the craziness spiraling around me the last few days. *  It took Black Jack Tarr barely five minutes to relate our tale, a S.H.I.E.L.D. Recorder typing furiously on a Stenotype device even though the room’s security cameras and microphones were recording all.

* A rather condensed retelling of Black Widow #’s 25-28 - Curt

“Anybody got anything ta add?” Fury asked shuffling his papers.

“Nothin’ really ta Tarr’s story,” Clive Reston said, “except ta say that we lost the video showin’ that it was the Mandarin that killed Radii and stole his bloodstone when the Dreadnought torched our safehouse.  We did manage ta hang onto the stone that Chi took off Shockwave at the Hellfire Club in Manhattan. *  We can still track the remainin’ shards.”

* As seen in Black Widow #25 MI-6 came on board while tracking the Bloodstone Helix in order to thwart Fu Manchu - Curt

“Well, we pretty much figured the Mandarin was involved.  Couldn’t use yer video in any official sense anyway, other than ta confirm what we already guessed.”  Fury shuffled through the folders and papers in front of him.  “We know too that Fu Manchu’s involved thanks ta yer home office finally rememberin’ that we’re one big happy spy community.  Add ta that, the Yellow Claw.  Those were definitely his agents that ‘Tasha ran into at the Hellfire Club.  And, if that weren’t enough now we got Viper tossed in ta the mix.  At least that’s what we figure with the Dreadnought and Silver Samurai both poppin’ up almost at the same time.” *

* Fury and James Woo faced a new Silver Samurai last ish - Curt

“And still no idea who this new Silver Samurai is?” Black Jack Tarr asked taking a cue from Fury and igniting a cigar of his own.

“Not a clue,” Fury said with a grimace.  “S.H.I.E.L.D.’s searchin’ the interconnected agency data bases for possible matches but so far zilch.  All we do know is that he was good, strong and tough.  I personally put five shells into him, the last into his eye.  He survived, at least long enough ta get away.”

“And definitely not Harada Kenichirō?” I asked pouring myself a fresh cup of coffee.  As I sat back down sipping at the cup and feeling the caffeine coursing through my veins I briefly wondered where the attendant had gone.  I had not seen him leave –

“Too short,” Fury said and I saw him pause in consideration for a moment until Sunfire’s voice snapped him back from whatever he was thinking.

“And at Fury’s request I went to Harada Kenichirō’s tomb.  His remains still rest undisturbed.”  Shiro Yashida turned from the window to face the assemblage again, frowning as usual.  “Clues do suggest that Viper has been active in Japan for several months, establishing a power base as near as intelligence can confirm.  There have been clashes with the Yakuza and her agents dressed reminiscently of the garb of Hydra.

“I wonder perhaps if this new Silver Samurai was the recipient of a Bloodstone shard.  It would account for his increased reflexes and ability to withstand and heal from your assault.”

“Definitely a possibility that we should not rule out,” Jimmy conceded puffing on a cigarette.  The room was definitely getting smoky with four men blowing smoke so to speak and I noticed the Japanese MI-6 agent crank up the AC.  “Though one wonders why she chose to attack us.”

“Well, she hates me for one,” Fury offered truthfully with a smirk.  “But the bitch is psycho, an Anarchist in the thinnest stretch of the imagination.  I figure if she sniffed out that somethin’ was goin’ down with the Bloodstone’s that she opted ta be a part of it.”

“And what of the other two players?” Shang Chi asked his usual sullen and contemplative self.  “My Father and your Yellow Claw?  I have never encountered the latter, but I cannot begin to comprehend why my Father would want a shard of the Bloodstone Helix.  As I understand its properties, it offers nothing that the Celestial has not already gained through his magicks and alchemy.”

“Maybe we were right the first time,” Leiko Wu interjected, her finger tracing the rim of her own coffee cup.  “Maybe she’s working against your father, Shang.”

“What d’ya mean, Luv?” Reston asked as he tamped his fag into an ashtray.

“Well, I was thinking that Shockwave was always a mercenary, assassin for hire.  The first time Shang Chi encountered him he was working for Fah Lo Suee, who was at the time working WITH her father, in a round about way. *  When we encountered him later he was working for Brynocki. ** We only assumed that they were both working for the Devil Doctor that first encounter.  I think Fah Lo Suee has her own agenda.”

* As seen in Master of Kung Fu #45 (?) – Curt

** As seen in Master of Kung Fu #’s 72-75 – Curt

“And what would that be?” Jimmy asked.

“Maybe she figures this a chance to break away from her father.”  Leiko Wu stood and went to the huge windows staring out at Tokyo sprawled far below.  “Think about it.  The Bloodstone offers all that The Celestial’s Elixir Vitae does and then some; psychic abilities as well as enhanced regeneration, apparently.”

“Regen – “ I said even as the widows blew in…

The Mongolian Steppes
100 Miles West of Ergun Zuoqi
Argun Installation

Tem Borjigin strode the empty halls of Argun Base, his boot heels clacking on the chipped stone in his wake.  The corridors were dim and cold, but of course he was far beyond such mortal frailties as darkness and chill.  He was the Mandarin; the breath of China’s future and the anointed ruler of all mankind.  Those few guards he passed snapped to attention, weapons presented for his pleasure.  He ignored them, heading for the great chamber at the end of the hall.

“Master…” *

* Translated from the Guānhuŕ

Tem sneered at the whining voice, the faltering footsteps trying to match his own great stride of dedication and purpose.  The toady had almost outlived his usefulness, and Tem Borjigin would take great pleasure in the sniveling sycophant's demise when the time finally came.

“What?” he snarled trying to keep the impatience from his voice.  He rounded a corner and saw the final portal just a few hundred feet away, two warriors standing stiffly before the great doors before him.

“This one hazards to guess that perhaps the resurrection is… premature.  Your staff worries that all is not complete.”

“Their concern is unfounded,” the Mandarin swaggered as he approached the final door, cape swirling behind him with every long step.  “I wear the twelfth ring, and it harbors the power to restore my greatest creation to life.  To true life, at long last.  No longer will the accursed Iron-Man be able to - " 

Tem Borjigin staggered as a massive pain shot through his head.  Had he not known the impossibility he would have thought that his brain had shifted slamming into his skull.  He reached out touching the wall for support as he winced, steeling his concentration until the feeling passed.

“Master?” the toady asked, anticipation in his voice.  The Mandarin ignored him, rubbing at his temples and staring at the door.

“Fury,” he whispered stepping from the wall.  “S.H.I.E.L.D. seeks me with its psychics, its ESP-er Unit.” Tem Borjigin slipped a finger beneath his helm and fingered the silver, rune inscribed diadem that encircled his brow.  “But I am protected, though the very thing that protects me also enhances their assault on my being.”  The Mandarin rubbed his face, wiping blood from his nose, staring at his stained fingers.  “It is of no consequence.  Come, Tzin.”

The two guards stepped aside as the Mandarin stepped up and shoved through the final doors and into the chamber beyond.  Steam billowed past, ruffling his cloak as he stepped into the bright glare and cacophonous noise.  He strode out along the metal catwalk, his gaze alighting, following the huge pale blue construct stretched out before him.  Scientists and technicians scampered over the body.  Workers in rumpled fatigues squatted behind the sparking flare of arc welders while analysts delved into the mechanisms that would control China’s salvation. Tem Borjigin smiled as he strode towards the head of the room and the construct alike.

How many, he wondered as he eased up to the metal railing, the viewing platform high above the construct.  How many have been lost, incomplete and fallible, destroyed by Stark’s Iron-Man.  Never again.  He now held the key; the Bloodstone…

“Master…”

Tem Borjigin glanced aside as a man approached dressed in the pale yellow containment suit designed against hazardous materials.  He recognized the withered, ancient face, one of China’s most renowned minds.

“Hsu,” Tem Borjigin whispered giving the scientist his attention.

“Master, your timing is monumental,” the old man said stopping to bow slightly.  “I feared that when the Chairman closed this facility, the construct would have degraded with time, yet by your efforts he has been resuscitated.  Within moments the world will tremble once again at the might of – “

The Mandarin waved the old man’s words away as he stared at his glory.  He winced then as another wave of psychic energy roiled past.  “How long?”

“Less than five minutes,” Hsu said glancing at his I Pad.  “We are downloading the security protocols, which you devised as we speak.  Once the Bios accept the changes we may activate the construct.”

“Excellent!” the Mandarin almost whooped.  He turned towards his lackey, eyeing the insidious sycophant.  “Then only one thing remains.”

“Master?” the little toady, Tzin said with wide worried eyes. Tem Borjigin stepped forward and slammed his twelfth ring; the Bloodstone into the worm’s forehead.  Crimson light flared as the sycophant squealed in pain and terror, flashing like lightning as the Mandarin gripped the little man’s shoulder, holding him fast.

“The Bloodstone requires sacrifice for so monumental a task,” he said as the little man squirmed and squealed in agony.  I am certain you are willing to give your all for the greater good of China, Tzin.”

The lackey’s body shivered, convulsed, then went erect as scarlet energy washed over him.  His tongue flew out and it seemed he was trying to speak, but that notion quickly vanished as the Mandarin relinquished his grip and the spindly frame collapsed to the floor.

His twelfth ring crackling with fiery energy, Tem Borjigin stepped over the smoldering husk of his lackey and deftly leapt over the safety railing to land upon the construct.  He stared at the huge, almost generic face at his feet; the coal dark eyes and jagged mouth.  Electronic leads spewed from a panel in its temple and technicians still scoured the gargantuan body.  He did not care…

It was time…

Tem Borjigin, the Mandarin, the future Emperor of China kissed the bloodstone ring on his index finger and slammed it into the forehead of the construct, his greatest creation.

Scarlet light spewed forth as the powers of the Bloodstone Helix imbued the construct.  Fire ran up his arm, but the Mandarin held the ring fast.

“Live…” he whispered, his voice almost choking…

He felt the construct shift beneath his feet.  A stirring…

A breath…

“Yes…” Tem Borjigin hissed.  “Live!!”

Coal dark eyes suddenly sparked to light, burning with an inner flame…

“Truly live…”

Massive jaws churned and muscles shifted as the gargantuan monstrosity started to sit up, to rise…

Tem Borjigin ignored the screams of terror as the scientists and technicians of Argun Installation ran.  He did not care as he shoved the desiccated husk of Tzin aside hurriedly stepping down from the rising construct.  Leads and metallic struts fell away as the creature rose smashing through the ceiling before the panels could be opened, rising above all it surveyed.  It stood seemingly confused as it gazed upon its surroundings.

GO! the Mandarin thought, issuing commands through his diadem.  Reclaim our right.  Give me China… then the world!

Ultimo stared at the gaudy little man blazing with energy and seemingly in control.  He shrugged and took his first step south turning his back on the man and ignoring the voice in his head ,his own thoughts a jumbled mass of confusion.

China beckoned…

West Shinjuku
Tokyo, Japan
Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building

The conference room was suddenly a storm of activity; flashing blades and glowing bullets, thunder cracks of gunfire.  There was only a heartbeat’s hesitation before everyone was moving, whether diving for cover or jumping into the sudden fray.  All attention was focused on the shattered windows and the army of assassins that was swarming through the jagged, gaping hole.

The Hand…

I had fought my share of the mercenary killers.  They were tough and well trained, dedicated to whatever was their mission to the point of dying for the cause.  And annoying in that their bodies dissolved on death, and sometimes even close to it.  They did not surrender and never gave up their mission.

I just barely saw the Japanese MI-6 agent fall in the first wave as it swung from grappling lines through the shattered windows.  A dark-edged blade sliced into his ribs as he staggered forward, his back riddled with shards of glass.  Another blade casually lopped off his head sending blood gushing and his body shambling until it slammed against the long conference table then collapsed to the floor.

I felt the explosion of light and heat even as I dove, rolling into the corner of the room toppling the national flag stand to the floor.  I glanced back, arms raised and saw atomic fire swell about Shiro Yashida as he emblazoned the windows with a firestorm.  The Hand members did not cry out as they were emulated, falling away like comets blazing as they plummeted to the plaza far below.  But of course another wave of the assassins swiftly appeared to fill the sudden gap.

I saw Shang Chi leap to the fore as several of the Hand sent a hailstorm of shuriken flying through the room.  He was a blur as he batted away the swirling flurry of metal snowflakes all etched black, coated with poison I saw as several embedded in the wall just over my head.  As he moved he lashed out at those that came too close, his movements tight and graceful; poetry in motion.

Fury, Reston and Tarr were firing their respective side arms wildly, point blank head shots at any of the assassins that came too near.  They were all shouting but their voices were blurred and mired together, lost in the concussive explosions.  Across the room Jimmy Woo was battling hand to hand slapping blades aside as he fired his handgun into the shrouded faces.  I gasped as a blade sliced deep into his arm, saw him wince then blow his attacker’s head off with a well placed bullet.

Leiko Wu was backed into the opposite corner, fighting like jimmy but using her arm cast as a bracer, deflecting blades as she killed the assassins with her gun.  And still the Hand came pouring through the windows…

I realized foolishly that I was not wearing my Widow’s Bite or Line bracelets.  I almost lost a hand as one of the attackers swept his blade at my outstretched arm.  I pulled my own Baretta, which was quickly sliced in two even as I spun and kicked off the wall to avoid a second attacker.  The first’s head exploded as I ducked, another blade driving into the floor as I blocked with the otherwise useless butt of my gun.  I was damn lucky that the gun had not exploded in my hand.

Blindly I reached out, my fingers curling about the staff of the Japanese flag whipping it about defensively as a katana neatly cut through the red circle of the nation’s emblem and severing the pole.  I rolled, thrusting forward with the now sharpened point, driving it into the closest assassin’s chest and ripping it free even as his body staggered and started to smolder, dissolving.

The room was now cloudy with the vapors of the dead Hand, the cloying stench of death choking as we struggled.  Fire and brimstone as Sunfire’s mutant plasma flames boiled forth.  A continuous explosion of bullets blasting from guns, screams and shouted warnings, orders.  It was chaos…

“Tasha!”

I heard my name shouted and barely avoided a katana as it sliced through my makeshift bo staff.  I somersaulted, landing on my toes with one half of the flagpole deflecting a blade in front of me, the other slapping the silver sword to dig into the floor.  I kicked out at the Hand assassin before me sending him sprawling into the smoldering remains of his brethren as I spun, both halves of the staff now raised defensively before me.  I saw what had to be the new Silver Samurai standing at ready, his gleaming blade held in the last motion of typical katana kata.

His teeth were bared and grinding beneath the ceremonial half-mask.  His pale blue eyes were set and piercing and I saw sweat lining his stubbled cheeks.  He was short and bulky and I had a sudden strange sensation of fear as he reared back, blade high.

He snarled as he lunged forward striking fast and furiously.  I felt the ache in my ribs as my arms moved unconsciously, whipping the sticks in my hands to block the onslaught of his savage assault even as it pushed me back towards the room’s corner again.

He was good, a Master and I was swiftly sweating as I moved methodically to block his attack.  Oddly, despite his speed and grace he seemed locked into the basic kata, no originality or variation and I soon found a rhythm to turn the Samurai’s blows aside.  In my peripheral vision I saw more Hand assassins fall and a fire raged about the windows.  Black Jack Tarr fell back, a blade slicing through the fleshy muscle just above his hip even as Reston’s gun exploded downing the offending assassin.  Shang Chi was a blur as he danced through the remaining Hand members, Fury and Wu killing them as they fell with well placed shots.  I saw Jimmy slumped against a wall pale and sweating as his hand clutched at the gash on his arm…

I screamed as I lurched forwards the impromptu battle staves a flurry as I took the attack to the Samurai.  His countenance did not change as he shifted his weight as easily as his kata, his stance going defensive as he blocked my savage assault.  I did not break stride and pressed forward.  Jimmy was hurt, poisoned by a Hand blade, probably dying.  It was time to end this.

The Silver Samurai’s blade flashed, his speed and skill uncanny as he blocked my blows, but the rage was upon me now and I did not relent.  I slammed the staves in and eventually got past his katana; batting his thigh, jabbing his shoulder, butting his chin.  I whipped my left hand at the man’s calf and even as he swept his blade to block, slammed the butt of my right hand stave against his helm, which went flying, clattering off of the wall.  As the Samurai raised his blade again I stared in disbelief, the raggedy, face twisted in anger snarling at me. 

“Logan?” I said, frozen in the moment even as the silver katana arched at my throat…

TO BE CONTINUED...

NEXT ISSUE: Okay, who spotted the clues as to the identity of the new Silver Samurai?  They were there if you were paying attention.  But just what the heck is going on now?  Wolverine working for Viper?  And if that isn’t bad enough, at long last… Ultimo!  I know you thought I was kidding…