"Nope," said Logan, looking at the cover. "What's it about?"

"It was published a few months ago, and is the second volume of Mein Kampf. It includes a history of the Nazi party to that time and its program, as well as a primer on how to obtain and retain political power, how to use propaganda and terrorism, and how to build a political organisation."

"I thought they were outlawed after the botched take-over thing a few years back," said Logan. His German was very good so he would be able to read it later.

"Kind of," said Landing. "However they've started growing again and they're becoming a very large noise in Germany. People over here are getting a little edgy about it all, and they need an expert to look things over."

"So you called for me," said Logan. "Great."

"That and I asked for you," said Chang. It had been a few years since Logan saw him last.

"Been a while, Chang. Seven years since by my count," said Logan looking at his former partner. Chang nodded and let Landing continue.

"You've special dispensation," said Logan's boss. "You're not one of the uniforms anyway, and you do your work well."

"Best there is, bub."

"Quite. There's a speaker trying to recruit people to their way of thinking arriving in Quebec City tomorrow. Figures that the French people are the closest to their mindset. I want you to go and do some digging. Find out what you can. There's something about this I don't like. Smells like the prelude to something."

"Won't be a war," said Logan. "Not after the pasting we gave them last time."

"Perhaps," said Chang, mysteriously. "Who knows, though?"

"Yeah," said Logan. "What jurisdiction issues do we have?"

"The usual with the Frogs," said Landing. "So don't antagonise more than you have to, Logan."

"Would I?" said Logan, taking the file.

"And Logan?" said Landing and the agent looked up. "Try not to kill anyone this time." Logan nodded and headed off to get his gear together for the trek over to Montreal. Chang followed.

"This a 4 L gig?" he asked.

"Let's just say we're interested in how this goes," said Chang. Logan stopped a moment and looked at him.

"What's the matter with you, bub?" he asked. "You're lookin' very uneasy around me. Ain't sure if it's fear or guilt I smell on you."

"I'm ashamed," admitted Chang. "Ashamed that it's been seven years since I last saw you. I'm sorry, my friend."

"I got over it," said Logan. "You should too." He turned and walked away to go on his mission, leaving Chang to muse on the real purpose of his unease.

"Would that I had not been born in the fifth race of men, but either had died before or been born afterwards! For now indeed the race is one of iron. Never will men cease from toil and misery by day and by night as they plunge to their ruin; the gods will give them endless suffering. Yet some blessings are still mingles with sorrows for them.

"But Zeus will destroy also this race of men whose tongues have speech, when the time comes that they are grey-haired as soon as they have been born. Father will not resemble his children nor children their fathers; guest will not be dear to his host, nor friend to friend, nor brother to brother, as they once were. This race of men will not honour their feeble and ageing parents, but hard hearted, they will rebuke them with angry words, not considering the vengeance of the gods.

"No restitution will they make to their old parents for the expense of their rearing. There will be no reverence for the man who keeps his oath, nor for a just or good man, but the insolent, the evildoer, will they honour. Right shall rest in the power of the hand; there will be no sense of honour. The worse will harm the better man, addressing him with guile and swearing falsely on oath. Malice and scolding envy with angry face will pursue all mortals in their wretched state.

"Then shall shame and retribution, covering their fair heads with white mantles, abandon mortal men and depart for the realms of the immortals. Misery alone will be left for men, and they will have no defence against their sorrows."

Chang ended his quotation, and turned to face the man behind the desk.

"Very pretty," said Landing, as he looked over his crossed fingers. "However it does not explain why we should take him on."

"Admittedly Logan has not been a model citizen since leaving Landau, Luckman, Lake and Lequare," said Chang. "However, he would be a fine operative for the new Royal Canadian Mounted Police that's being set up. Someone of his experience and federal law enforcement extended to all provinces and territories expertise would be invaluable in ensuring the success in taking on responsibility for federal law enforcement extended to all provinces and territories."

"Logan, from what I've read in his file, has spent the last three years drinking, whoring and picking fights. He seems to have either developed a death wish or he just had no taste for life any more. It's some kind of miracle he hasn't killed anyone."

"He's had a rough time adjusting," said Chang, ignoring the last comment, because it was true. He'd become more liberal in the use of his claws, as if he were trying to give people a reason to attack him. "The last assignment he had hurt him badly both in body and mind, and I suspect that he needs something to give him direction. I'm not telling you to hire him, just think it over."

"I need someone I can rely on," said Landing.

"Fine," said Chang. "I'll have him here tomorrow and prove it to you."

"Okay," said Landing. "That will be fine." Chang took his leave of the man and went outside to the man waiting for him there.

"So what do we do?" asked Chang's new partner, Thomas Lacier.

"Get him ready, Tom," said Chang. "We've covered his ass over this for long enough. Now we do something about it." He picked up the handset of the telephone and called the number. "64782894, code word octogenarian.... Yes, I'll hold... Grayson, it's Chang. I've set up a meeting between Logan and Landing. For tomorrow." He held his breath as the Expediter at the other end cursed. "I know, but it was that or nothing. I need warp chamber access from here to Toronto. I'll go see him and sort it out. That way if needs be... He should be still susceptible to mind control... I don't like it either. He was my friend and partner for a long time, but... I understand, sir. Access granted, thank you, sir." He hung up.

"I hate this part of the job," said Lacier. "Teleporters always make me queasy."

"Yeah, one day they'll improve the technology, but for now..." said Chang as he inserted his key to open the locked door marked WC, and it opened with a click. "Here we go." They stepped in to the WC and it was as if they were moved atom by atom from where they were to where they wanted to be in a matter of minutes. The door opened and they stepped out in to the Landau, Luckman, Lake and Lequare office in Toronto.

"Gentlemen," said the woman at the reception desk.

"Chang and Lacier," said Chang as they showed their identification. "Do you know where we can find Logan?"

"Yes," she said, and checked the information reports. "He's at home."

"Good," said Chang. "Makes it easier. We'll need a car."

"Sign here," she said as she put a piece of paper down and Chang signed his name. "It's across the street."

"Thanks," said Lacier and they made their way to the car and then drove out of the city and towards the old Indian site just outside of Niagara.

"What're you going to do?" asked Lacier, after they were about halfway there.

"Mind wipe him," said Chang, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice as he said it. "Take away the pain that's hurting him inside and put something else in it's place."

"What about the side effects?" asked Lacier. "You've not been doing this magic voodoo for long."

"He'll survive and he'll be a productive member of society again," said Chang, trying more to convince himself than his partner. "Maybe it'll make up for my failure to help him before." The rest of the trip was in silence.

"So how did it go?" asked Grayson as his two agents returned back to headquarters.

"He's in," said Chang. "He's a reformed man, now."

"It's not right," said Lacier. "I'm not happy about this."

"What happened?"

"I wiped him," said Chang. "But I think I went too deep. Something went wrong though."

"What's he lost?"

"Everything connected with the event. As far as we can tell, he felt guilt over leaving some girl a long time ago, and we took his memory of her away. The problem was it impacted on his life since, and it had an adverse effect on him. He still has his fighting skills and some of the things he learnt are more instinctive than anything else, but he's lost much of the control he had over himself. That said, he doesn't seem to remember his claws either so his capacity to kill is diminished."

"Can we use him in the future?" asked Grayson.

"Unlikely," said Chang. "He lacks the controlled nature he had before. Now it's more a daily fight for him to stay sane. I made an error." "Well," said Grayson, turning to look at the workers below. "We continue our support for him, and let's just hope he manages to keep control of himself. Dismissed, gentlemen." The two agents left Grayson to his thoughts and he wondered how badly scarred Logan would be from this.

Logan entered Quebec City. It had been a long time since he had been in the French part of Canada, because every time he came here he always felt as if he was missing something. He just couldn't place what it was. He pushed it to the back of his mind, because he had a job to do. His target was a man named Helmut Dossler, a man who seemed to believe in his cause of racial purity. He was also a physical trainer of no small ability.

Logan smiled as he thought about picking a fight with him, smacking him about then throwing him out of the country. The book he'd flicked through was dangerous stuff. Master races. Logan shivered at the thought because if there was truly a master race, then God help the planet. He had seen enough to know that power would bring suffering because a master race needed a supreme master, and supreme masters did not get where they were by being kind to children and animals. There were enough fanatics in the country without adding these kind of losers to it.

He watched as the rally began, with Dossler at the front, with his people wandering about with him. Marching in quick time, uniform, disciplined. Logan's eyes narrowed as he thought of an army of these people. It was a scary thought because if they were good as a rabble now, who knew what the potential was. A crisis, perhaps, if LLL&L were involved. He didn't work for them anymore, he knew that. His last mission... he remembered fighting a demon, and a sword, but that was it. Perhaps it was the injuries he had sustained that had caused him to forget, because he knew he had to retire afterwards.

Chang's reappearance had caused more questions than Logan would have liked and it was distracting him from the job at hand. Logan made his way to the front of the crowd that had gathered to watch and tasted the air, getting his scent. That was all that he needed, other than for these people to carry on what they were doing. They were meeting at one of the municipal buildings downtown and that gave Logan the opportunity to explore the rooms they had taken at the Clarendon and see what was going on. He had to be careful though, because he'd been thrown out of there the last time he was in the city. By the time he got to the hotel it was starting to get dark, but that wasn't a problem to a man with enhanced senses.

He looked at the place from across the street. It wasn't going to be easy to get to, but then again, he was good at this kind of thing. Subtle and sneaky was the best way to operate in this kind of situation. Going in all guns blazing wasn't going to work to his advantage. He smiled as he looked across the street at the hotel then behind him. It wasn't as great a place, but it had a good fire escape, and he figured he could get to the roof without a problem and then leap across the street to the other building. His unique abilities made it possible, as well as knowing which rooms would be empty. He nodded and made his way up to the roof and observed the hotel.

When he knew what he was aiming for, he looked down and ensure there were no people below and more than that there was nobody looking through the windows, then he leapt, pushing himself as hard as he could and grabbed one of the balcony railings as he dropped. It pulled on his arm as he stopped his descent but he knew that in a moment that would be nothing more than a memory as he hoisted himself up and over. The door to the room was unlocked and he made his way inside. It was empty as he had thought and he made his way out to the corridor easily and undetected.

He was in and roaming the corridors. Very soon he had the scent of the Germans and he followed it through the building to where it was strongest. This was Dossler's room all right, and he got his picks from his belt and went to work on the door. It was open in less than a minute and Logan smiled. He was getting better at that, though he also had the urge to simply kick the door in. Once in he closed the door and made sure it was locked and then he turned on the lights.

The room did not impress him, for it was a little too fancy for his liking. Dossler obviously liked his comforts. The first thing Logan did was to go through the chest of drawers, searching for any documents that may have been hidden. Then he moved to the wardrobe, then the other drawers in the room. There was nothing incriminating, nothing that said that Dossler was anything more than a politician. However Logan could feel that there was something here, something he was missing. There was a scent to the room, he could tell now. A scent... He looked at the bed and pulled off the covers.

The sheets were clean and fresh, but then he pulled them off to reveal the mattress and there it was. The scent of blood. He ran his fingers over the material and could feel the flakes of dried blood and suddenly he was angry. Someone had bled here, and bled profusely. It was the scent of death that lingered in here, and it had been covered up. Perhaps if it were anyone other than him investigating, then it would have gone undiscovered. He could tell by the scent it was recent enough to have been in Dossler's presence. If it wasn't him, he knew about it. Logan had seen enough and now he needed to get to a local police station.

He needed to do a bit more digging, and see if any bodies had turned up in the last day or so. Then he and Dossler would have a little chat.

The locals hadn't been too helpful, but this one had been a brutal killing from what Logan had seen and read. It hadn't been given to the papers yet, because there were a few bits and pieces to go on, however it turned out that a young girl had been pulled from the Saint Lawrence River. A young Indian girl who had been brutally beaten and sexually violated, then she had been bludgeoned to death which such force that she had died of blood loss from what the doctors had said. Logan had sad he was on the trail of other murders like this for the RCMP, bluffing his way through it with his senses as his guide. If Logan was right, he knew the reasons behind it.

The girl would not have been classed as an Aryan, not one of the supposed master race described in the books. The revile that entered Logan's head now was that he had enough of what he needed. Dossler and his ilk were thugs, pure and simple and he sure as hell didn't want them in his country. They would leave. He would make them, and he would ensure they wouldn't come back any time soon.

"Oh, Helmut," said the young woman, at the German's side, as he took her by the arm and they walked to his hotel the next evening. The last few days had gone well and he had gained no small measure of adoration from some of the women. He was unsure wether it was the message or his looks, but either way he wasn't spoilt for company. That said, he had to be careful after the incident, which was why he had left it a few days before going on another liaison. He was a man after all and he had needs as all men did.

"Marie," he said looking in to her eyes and smiled. He would enjoy her, for there was something about the lesser people's of the planet that he enjoyed. They would make good servants in the times to come.

"Helmut Dossler," said a voice and Dossler turned to see a man in an alleyway. "A word."

"Nein. I am busy right now, mein Herr," said Dossler.

"Logan. Royal Canadian Mounted Police," he said. "I'd like to talk with you about a murder the other night."

"I am afraid we will have to cut the evening short, my dear," said Dossler, as he turned back to Marie to see his men in the background. They knew there might be resistance, so they had come prepared and he had trained these men himself. They would easily deal with one diminutive policeman. "Run along." He gave her a bill and she went away and by the time he turned back, his men had confronted the man. "Goodbye," he said, walking past the men, one of which was on the floor unmoving, while another two of whom had him held and the fourth was proceeding to beat on him. Then there was a crash.

Dossler turned to see the man who had been hitting the policeman at the other side of the street, while the two who were holding him were being attacked and beaten with a savage fury, against which his men had no chance and in moments it was all over.

"That was stupid, bub," said Logan as he came over to Dossler, apparently none the worse for the assault. Then Logan punched him and Dossler fell back to the floor. He had never been hit that hard in his life, and he had been hit by many strong men. For the size of the man, he had power within him.

"Mein Gott," said Dossler, realising that this man wasn't interested in arresting him.

"Ain't listenin' to ya," said Logan and punched him again and Dossler blacked out.

"He got the message," said Logan as he sat in front of Landing. "His group won't be coming back anytime soon. I suggested they limit their activities to the own country."

"You did that to him?" said Landing looking at the report. Dossler had been taken to a hospital with many broken bones, bruises and other serious injuries.

"He resisted questioning and attacked me," said Logan. "I call that self defence, an' he ain't dead."

"There was no proof connecting him to the girl," said Landing.

"I know, but my instincts told me it was him," said Logan, lighting a cigar. "Plus he won't be spreadin' his message. I tell you, Michael, I didn't like what I saw. In public they were good, but in private they were as dark and dirty as any of the scum I've seen in my life."

"Not our problem, Logan," said Landing. "I don't see they can be much of a threat, as they're not quite credible in the eyes of the world. If they're as bas as you say and by some miracle they do achieve something, the rest of the world will keep them in line. They're only a handful of people."

"Yeah," said Logan, thinking that it only took one man to make a difference. Then a thought came to him, a memory of many years ago, when his master Ogun had spoken to him after theuir fight with the Russian assassin known as the Weaponsmith.

"I feel that this a precursor to larger events. Call it a... feeling, I have."

At last Logan understood what Ogun had meant because he had a feeling as well. There was something coming and the world would never be the same.

"There's something coming," said Logan as he opened his eyes. For a moment he wondered where he was and they he remembered he was in the fortress of the Chaste. Then he remembered what he had seen, what he had known and, through many forms of manipulation over the years, forgotten. "I know who I am now," he said as he looked down at his hand, the construct made for him by the X-Men to replace the slowly regrowing stump. His mind was clear at last, all the things once denied him were now open.

He was whole for the first time in too long.

"Elektra," he said, realising she wasn't there and he wondered how long he had been out of it. To go over 120 years of history... It couldn't have been short. He stood up and sniffed the air and went to find her.

"Logan," she said, standing at the ramparts of the fortress. "You're awake, my love."

"Yes," he said.

"Did it work?" she asked cautiously. "Do you remember? Do you know who you are?"

"Yup," he answered and they embraced and kissed. Then Elektra suddenly stiffened and her eyes went wide as Logan let go of her, his arms dropping to let her body slide from his blood stained claws, leaving three puncture wounds in her back next to her shoulder blade leading in to her heart.

"I know exactly who I am."