Marvel: 2011-04-04 - Agent 69, I mean 96! 96!

Logan waits patiently, he knows Creeds a few miles outside of town, he knows that he's waiting, he suspects that he's setting up to ambush, as such Logan's not planning to rush, he's given SHIELD a limited time, it's almost up and Logan's planning to disappear into the forest to finish things with Creed once and for all (at least until next time). He currently sits at a bar sipping a beer. His body language all but screams for people to keep their distance. Yet otherwise he's quiet.

There has been someone in there for the last thirty minutes or so watching you. It isn't obvious, but rather something you can pick up at the edge of your senses. It multiplies over time. They are good, but you are better. The woman is dressed to blend in, a gawd please burn it hot pink top that has seen better days in this sad little bar, torn up jeans that are way too tight, and black killer heels. Her hair is cut short and spiked all over the place and she chews bubble gum. She is drinking a beer and trying to appear that she is while playing poker...but opts out of the game finally as she heads toward the bar and to your left side.

The woman moves with a swish of her hips and carrying a too tiny purse. Makes you wonder where she keeps her gun! Ah, there it is, hidden beneath the sparkling gold sash she has tied about her waist like a belt, in a gold colored hostel. Nice. She appears to be in her mid-30s or so, and is well trimmed. That screws with her disguise, the fact she is fit and muscled. Someone her age with this life style would already have a body going to hell in a hand basket.

Logan sips his beer not glancing at the woman to his left. "You really wanted to cut it close." He grin a little. He shrugs a shoulder. "You almost missed me." He finally turns to look at the agent sent. "So, how we gonna do this?"

The red headed woman tilts her head slightly as she looks at you, leaning on the counter with her forearms. It looks casual, but honestly, she could elbow you in the face in a heartbeat. Don't panic too much though; the red is temporary hair dye. "How about not taking out half this meaningless town? It would look bad for my record, and I do have a good record." She smirks a bit, a little on the cool side. "Not as good as yours though." There is a hint of admiration in her eyes. Apparently, she is high enough in rank to get a look at your service history. "Agent 96, at your service Obi Wan." And apparently she is one with a sense of humor, just a twisted one. Cause you are damn well not some good Jedi.

With a slow nod Logan studies the woman. "Fury have you dye your hair specially for me." He speaks in a gruff almost brisk tone. "That stuff stinks." Of course Logan seems entirely at ease, his expression isn't amused. "No one dies, no one ever has... Not because of the fight, people die because I don't start the fight quick enough." He shrugs a shoulder. "And this town ain't meaningless. They sell one helluva pie, and no one disturbs you when you're getting a quiet drink." He shrugs a shoulder. "You keep way back and let me deal with Creed and everything'll be just fine."

"Uh-huh." Agent 96 does not appear offended. "Don't tell me you softened in old age?" A hint of a smirk, she doesn't mean the words. She actually approves of what you just said. "I'll keep my distance as long as you can handle yourself. I'm sure you won't disappoint me." Though she does roll her eyes as if looking up at her own hair, "I had it purple last week; does it really smell that bad? Course, I was cruising the Russian Raves for illegal...arms shall we say, at the time." She pushes off the bar to lean her hip against it, but the way she rests, she still makes a point to keep her balance.

Agent 96 holds out her hand, "I'll wash it out properly tonight," taking on a more serious and respectful tone. "It's honestly a pleasure to meet you," and she sounds oddly...sincere. Again, that subdued admiration in her eyes. For each seemingly careless word, she watched for your reaction, judged it, weighted it. She is testing you, and so far you seem to be passing.

Shrugging Logan take the hand. "Either you're lying, or you ain't been filled in... It's never a pleasure to meet me Sweetheart." He shrugs a shoulder. "But I can believe you've got a damn good record... Else Fury wouldn't have let you get anywhere near me and Creed."

Her grip is firm and confident as she shakes. "We worked in the same business; he thought we could 'understand' each other. I doubt I will ever truly understand you Logan, but I believe I can come to greatly respect you. And honestly, that's what matters the most to me. I look forward to working with you." Does she absolutely trust you? No way in hell. But she isn't lying about the potential respect, not that you can catch anyway. "In either case, this should be a vacation compared to my usual work."

"You ain't met Creed." He shrugs a shoulder. "Creed's killed more people than you've met Sweetheart, keep your team together and out of the fight unless I go down, then pray I hurt him enough that you're able to take him down.... Because otherwise a lotta people are going to die, starting with everyone SHIELD sent."

The woman nods her head, lips pressing into a thin line briefly. "I understand the risks, and I've lived a life serving my country, to the world. I'm fine with that." Not that she wants to die, the woman is a fighter. However, Agent 96 understands the risks. "I'll keep your advice under serious consideration. I've seen Creed's files, they are not admirable."

Nodding Logan grins as he takes a long gulp of his beer. "You're good like I say, I don't doubt that. But you don't talk about this being easy, this is likely gonna be the hardest and most dangerous assignment of your life. Unless you follow my lead, then you and yours might get through this in one piece."

The woman grins, but there is a seriousness in her eyes. "Understood sir." She then opens her tiny purse and pulls something out, holding it out to you coyly. To anyone else looking at the two of you, they would assume she has been flirting all this time with how she moved, her stance, her facial expressions. But it has been anything but flirting. Palmed into her hand is a communicator. "Call me," and she winks at you.

With a nod Logan takes the communicator. "Has it got tracking?" He studies the device. "I'll give you a call, let you know where to dig in when the fights gonna happen." He grins a little. "Keep your wits about you Sweetheart."

"Yes." Least Agent 96 doesn't even try to lie about the tracking. She then smirks, "I always do Cupcake." She reaches over to pinch your cheek and wiggles it, "Soooo cute! Callllll meeee!" She then moves to take her leave with a swish of her hips, obviously a move to not only play up the illusion, but also to mock your sweetheart comment.

Logan actually chuckles at the reply, he watches the Agent leave, his attention then turning back to his beer, finishing his beer quickly he makes for the door, ready to finish the hunt.