Not For Glory (Back Dated 6/26)

July 02, 2018:

Logan and Lorna take out a former Genoshan scientist


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Nice day out in Westchester. Nice enough for Logan to be out on the grounds working on his old motorcycle. His shirt is off and his chest and hands are covered in grease. He is holding a part in his hand and appears to be cleaning it, but the part is also just as greased up as the rag he's using to wipe it. His usual cigar is clenched between his teeth and he actually manages to look like he's in good spirits.


Lorna came out from outside, her hair dyed black and a battered looking bag slung over her shoulders. Thought for all intents and purposes she looked to be in casual clothes, the scent of iron and metal clung to her every movement. She was as heavily armed as if she were going into battle, though at a glance she only looked to be wearing a good amount of jangly jewelry.

A pair of dark colored jeans, boots and black tank-top made up the rest of her outfit and she paused as she considered the various cars and other vehicles in the garage when her gaze fell on Logan.

A blink, and then a nod, as Lorna came up to consider the much older mutant. "Heey… Logan. Know that whole thing about back up we talked about before?" She kept her voice low, and with a forced lightness to it.


The 'much older' runt catches the scent of Lorna before she speaks and by the time she addresses him, he's turned to face her, putting his rag down. He wipes his chin idly with the back of his hand, a streak of grease smudging across it but he clearly doesn't seem to care.

The first thing he notices is the dyed hair, then her attire. He hasn't seen her since the patch up job on the hole in the mansion hallway and he's been meaning to check in on her to see how things are going. He can't be sure if the dye job is related.

He inclines his head slightly at her approach and welcomes her with his usual greeting, "Hey darlin'." A single bushy eyebrow arches at the mention of the back up needed. "Course I do." He tugs his cigar from his mouth, "Yer lookin' like you're going to need some, eh?"

Lorna nodded, her expression grim as her grip on the strap of her bag tightened, knuckles white as she leaned back on her heels. "After the shit that came out in the papers? Yeah. They're tracking X-genes Logan. In … in babies. In.." The unborn, they would know if a baby to be born was going to be a mutant or not. And people were already talking about cures and registration as a thing that was going to happen. No longer an 'if'.

Sitting on the sidelines, ignoring the outside world and trying to live and keep a low profile? It wasn't going to work. Not just for her own daughter's future… but the present. For mutants everywhere. Now.

"I know where to go. I got the files with the names and addresses." She didn't say where from, it didn't particularly matter… she had asked and she'd received. It had to be worth it. She'd be putting herself out there. And if she got caught? She doubted that the X-men would be able to stop people from labeling her a terrorist.. just like everyone else in her family.

She found fewer and fewer reasons to care these days.

Logan is already reaching for a clean shop towel to get some of the grease off of this hands and forearms when she mentions the papers. He's never been one to keep up with current events so it's news to him and he doesn't like the sound of it. His jaws clench, the muscles churning beneath his skin. He grabs his shirt from the bench and tugs it on over his head, the white cotton managing to pick up some of the grease.

If she had been caught and labeled a terrorist, the X-Men probably wouldn't have done anything. Not necessarily because they don't support Lorna but because they have to consider the team and the students more than one mutant. But Logan would've stuck by her. Shit's getting out of hand with the government and the fear mongering and somethin's gotta be done, "When do we leave?"

Lorna stood, settling her weight once more on the balls of her feet rather than the heels. The metal on her practically humming with the magnetic fields that twisted and swirled along her skin. She'd been kicked out of the X-men (temporarily) before. It had hurt immensely, having Scott yell and throw a mug at her, Jean's disappointed eyes.. but with her failing marriage and the threats that seemed to loom around every corner.. sitting idly didn't feel right.

The Genoshan scientists had committed war crimes, heinous crimes against humanity (mutant kind too) and more or less gotten away with it. They'd fled with their blood money, and were now sowing the seeds of destruction with their skills and knowledge anew in America. Her father might be all show and speeches… and she had no intention of joining that

The ones that had blood on their hands that the system had ignored or even welcome with open arms? Those were her targets.

"Whenever you're ready? I'm good to go."


There's definitely some sort of grey area where Logan likes to operate. Somewhere straddling the line between straight up brutality and the wholesome goodness that is the X-Men's MO. It's a large reason why he disappears for months at a time. Sometimes the need to get out there and get shit done in your own way is overwhelming when you've had to deal with all the red tape that Jean and Scott put down.

He understands why they do it and why there is a need for it. Hell, if every mutant here under the roof went rogue they'd have a crisis on their hands. So he doesn't blame them for it. But he also doesn't take part in it if he sees other avenues. Right now being a shinin' example.

"Let's roll," he says as he grabs his jacket and slips it over his arms and pulls it against his chest. He stuffs his hand into the chest pocket to make sure he has a couple spare cigars for the trip and nods.


Lorna nodded, and with a sweep of her hand, a less obviously "X-men" car turned over and rolled toward them, both doors opening with a soft click of the locks turning over. It was nondescript and plain. There were a few cars like that kicking around, and they weren't particularly more than old beaters that the shop kids tuned up to run for school projects. Lorna had found her own time in that class far too easy, after all, she could sense all the little metal bits and bobs inside the car..
She slid into the driver's seat, casting Logan a glance, "Unless you wanna drive?" She offered and settled her backpack on the armrest between them.

"I've got a few printouts of addresses and files that were sent over. Do you have any particulars on where you want to start? They're filed alphabetically, but I highlighted those that were recent hires in big research companies. And starred those close enough to find fairly close by."


Logan lowers himself into the passenger seat and pulls the door shut. He glances over at the backpack and tosses Lorna a glance that asks 'may I?' without speaking. He pulls out the files and starts leafing through them, idly chewing on the tip of his cigar as he rolls down the window to avoid choking Lorna out with the stench. "Hmm," he rumbles as he flips a page over. "Let's just pay a visit to the closest one an' then go from there, whaddya say?" He scans the page and finds a listing that isn't too bad of a drive, "Looks like we got one just outside the city." He offers Lorna the file and points to an address in White Plains.

He glances at her again, "What's yer plan once we get there?" He knows this is going to go down one of two ways. And he's leaning towards the way that this scientist is going to like the least. But he wants to make sure Lorna is able to make it back not only in one piece, which he really doesn't think will be a problem. Maybe emotionally. She's gotta husband and kid after all. At least he thinks she does.
"Does Marcos know?"


Lorna shrugged, her hands not even on the wheel as the car rolled down the drive and past the gates without so much as a twitch of her fingers. She'd spent a lot of time in Genosha training with Magneto's Acolytes and with Magneto himself, little things no longer needed a movement. They simply were. Still, she nodded to the backpack, her expression still as closed off as it had been before. The only difference was the thrumming of her blood through her veins as Logan scanned the papers.

"I know. I figured he'd be the easiest. Shawn Miller, one of the research scientists that helped with the mutate processing. He wasn't a big leaguer, but he knew what he was doing. He didn't have to force mutates' powers to activate. Didn't have to go along with forcing them to be slaves.. branding them.." She broke off, and exhaled a slow, deep, breath.

She was silent for a time as the car careened around a corner and continued down the road at a clip.

"..I don't exactly have a plan. It's more of a rough outline, a uhm.. a really, sketchy idea.." She admitted, and pursed her lips at his last question, shaking her head.

"No. We haven't talked since the argument over Aurora."


Logan's forehead wrinkles as his brows furrow. It's been a while since that argument. Maybe not in the grand scheme of things, but in terms of a marriage that's a damned eternity. He watches her for a moment to survey her behavior. It doesn't take a telepath to know she's tormented but he just doesn't know to what extent. He's getting the sense that it's one of those where she doesn't care what happens to her kinda things. That ain't good. But he's not going to press it for now.

"Sorry t'hear that darlin'."

He turns to watch the trees whiz by as they speed down the roads, "Might be worth talkin' to him first. See what kinda man he is." The kind that experiments on mutants and essentially tortures them. Thing is, he could be followin' orders. Earnin' a paycheck. Those types of men can change. Question is whether or not he deserves the chance.


Lorna settled her hands on the steering wheel for want of a place to put them. A car without the need to stir made for some rather awkward placement of limbs. Still, her knuckles were drawn and she seemed to know where she was going without a gps. She'd done her research, or at the very least, become obsessed with it, fixated in a way that wasn't particularly healthy but was a deeply inherited trait from her father, whether she knew it or not.

She knew where she was going and it wouldn't take long at the speed they were going. To make the car fly would be an easy thing, but it might also attract the wrong kind of attention. So the roadways they went.

A green-eyed glance followed Logan's words, her expression drawn. "It's not your fault. I only married Marcos because he wanted to be married. It was his dream.. and I loved him and wanted to make him happy. Having a family.. all of that.. it was never my dream." She murmured. There was the admittance, her voice soft and shaky. But her gaze returned to the road.

As Logan continued on about talking to the guy she arched a brow. "Perhaps. At least to see what he knows. I wish we had brought a telepath.." She grumbled and shook her head. "Already know what kind of man he is. Actions speak pretty loud, right? He was a guy that worked and lived the Genoshan's ideals. The kinda guy that should've been killed straight away, but he had money and money talks.."


He'd be lying if he said the change in attitude from Lorna didn't unsettle him a touch. He's only been back about a month and she's already a completely different person. Of course, he knew all about the shit that trauma puts you through so he can't blame her for it. Still.

He studies her silently as she explains the situation with Marcos. Getting married and having a kid to satiate someone else's dreams is brutal. When he first returned and she introduced him to Marcos and Aurora, Lorna at least appeared to be happy. Ah hell, it's none of his business anyway.

Turning back to watch the road disappear beneath the car, Logan goes back to puffing on his cigar, "So long as we get him alone. We don't need the publicity that comes from witnesses. It'll only make all this anti-mutant nonsense worse if we go killin' the guy in front of his coworkers or anyone else."


Lorna nodded, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. Of course, what Logan didn't know was that Aurora had been a surprise, both to her and to Marcos. The child hadn't been planned, only the wedding had, and it had been doomed from the start on Genosha. An elopement had been something to make Marcos happy, to try to force herself to find happiness where the tide of anti-mutant sentiment had spoiled all else..

Backed between impossible choices, Lorna had taken time to try to find herself something normal.. and now here she was, breaking every promise and consideration. All for what she thought was right.

Still, at least Logan wasn't going to judge her either way, and if he did, at least it was never along the harsh lines Scott and company did. She loved them like family, but like family, they disagreed. Violently sometimes.

"That's the hope. it's late enough that I think he should be at home. At least judging by the computer logins he's usually kept. I asked the technomancers in Genosha to check it. The man never changed his accounts online, so they were able to track him pretty easily. It's not like he thinks he's going to face any consequences.." She muttered.

"He wasn't married. No kids. I don't want to leave anything behind that will make it obvious that mutants are involved.." She murmured, the car careened down the road, weaving between traffic as they merged off back-roads into the light traffic.


Of course Logan wouldn't judge her. He's the last person who should be judging anyone for their actions. He sometimes asks himself why the hell the X-Men even have him around considering the raging murder sprees he goes on every now and then. Granted, the people he kills all deserve it in his opinion and typically their low key so there's a good chance the X-Men may not know about his extra-curricular
activities. Like hell, they don't.

If Logan knew that the family was an attempt at normalcy, he'd completely understand and sympathize with the need for something real in her life. In times like these, you need things to focus on that aren't oppression and intolerance. Having something positive can make all the difference in the world. But it's never just a buncha roses like in the movies. When ya have someone you love it means you have to go harder at keepin' them safe.

He nods back at Lorna and tightens his hands into fists, his metallic knuckles popping as they merge into traffic and get ever closer. He nods, more at himself than her, when she mentions removing anything that would indicate mutant involvement. Her head's in the right place. At least where this little operation is concerned. If the X-Men knew what they were up to they'd be pretty pissed. The thought brings a smile to his face. He's needed this since the day he returned.

It was otherwise silent in the car as Lorna wove around the streets with skill, knowing there was a magnetic buffer between them and every other car out there left the advantage of never really having a true risk of crashing. Cars and the alike were just a screaming metal death trap to most, and to Lorna, they were as natural as breathing. An exit and a few more turns had them turning off into suburbs and quieter streets. All residential apartments and rather nice looking houses for the area.

Lorna spared Logan a glance, able to sense every movement of bone laced with metal he so much as twitched.

The car turned off, gliding along by Lorna's magnetic direction entirely, silent as she moved it along with a look of intense focus.

"Should be number 301.." She muttered a rather nice looking row of newly renovated townhouses came into view as the car slowed.


Logan also is content to sit in silence as they approach their target's home. As they pull off the highway and into a more residential area, he rolls the window down further and takes one last puff of his cigar before tossing it out. One down, 2 left.
As they make their way down the street, he finally sees a painted curbside with '301' facing the street. He motions further down the street, "Park down the block." All the training he's been through over the years with the countless number of black ops organizations is kicking back in. It takes him back. Gets the blood runnin'.

When the car pulls to the curb, he steps out and takes a quick look around. He surveys the area for any signs of people out of their homes, taking walks. He also checks all of the windows that have a line of sight to the target's home. And security cameras. Although Lorna should be able to make quick work of those. He glances over at her after taking a few sniffs of the area as well, "Seems to be clear. You ready for this?"


The magnetic hum of electrical wires sang in Lorna's senses, the grid of wires and plugs and lights in every home near enough to her senses was as alive as the little synapses that fired off tiny electrical charges in one's brain. She knew when people were around, or near, and if she kept at it and knew the person.. she could figure out who they were… It was an ongoing process she'd yet to master.

Still, she was thankful for Logan's senses and his skills in black ops. She'd fought in Genosha's Civil War.. but hardly ever had need to be secretive about what she was up to then.

She parked as directed, the car slowing to a halt as she got out, her backpack leaping into her grip and onto her shoulder by magnetic tugs. Her green-eyed gaze swept the area and she leveled her hand upwards and outwards as she concentrated. The lights all down the block went out without so much as a spark to give them away. Brownouts happened in the Summer months. It wasn't particularly suspicious.

"Yeah, I'm ready. How should we go about getting in?"


As the lights go out, Logan manages to make his way up the sidewalk towards the townhouse marked 301. He's unusually light on his feet considering the way he stomps around the mansion. When he's at work he's a completely different person, for better or worse.

Without hesitating, he moves towards the apartment's door and stops outside, checking for sounds inside. He can hear a muffled television and smell something that has been microwaved. The smell flares his nostrils and curls his lips into a grimace. He peers back over at Lorna and speaks softly, "Get the door an' we just go in. He's watchin' TV. We just go in an' have a little chat."


Lorna's heart thudded in her chest as she followed Logan on near silent footsteps. Being able to float on magnetic currents left her light-footed. A scowl twisted her lips, "How the hell is his TV still running?" She muttered under her breath, frowning and clenched her hands. Putting out another EMP out and flattening whatever else remained of electronics in the area. The door?

The lock was nothing. It twisted open and swung inward, Lorna arching a brow as she glanced toward Logan and nodded forward as she made her way inside.
Inside was as empty and impersonal as a place could be. A few half-hearted attempted at decore were thrown on the walls in mismatched order, more meant to soften the echo on empty walls than for any desire to leave a decorative or personal mark. There was dirty laundry on the floor in a few piles, the hall, and living room now dark that the power was out completely. Muffled cursing could be heard as one Doctor Miller suddenly found his phone dead as well.


When they enter the townhouse, Logan doesn't pay much attention to the decor or the mess of clothes piled up in random places throughout. His nose leads him down the entrance hallway, beyond the kitchen and bathroom into the living area where the annoyed Dr Miller is standing in front of his couch with his face glued to the dead screen of his phone.

As soon as he reaches the entrance to the living room, Logan moves with a sudden swiftness that betrays his size. He hurdles the back of the sofa and places himself behind the doctor, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back and slipping his other arm over his shoulder and around his throat. He holds him tightly and pulls him down a bit to be more of Logan's size. Walking him away from the couch, he turns the scientist towards Lorna, more or less giving her free reign.


The human let loose a surprised, frightened noise, a shout and he dropped his phone as Logan leapt the couch and man-handled him around. The skinny doctor didn't fight, freezing instead as strong arms pulled him this way and that. The man was pale, balding brown hair leaving a receding hairline around his forehead. He was tall, skinny, and with wide, sunken eyes. "Whatever you want, I don't have any cash. T-Take the TV, my phone, whatever.. please." His voice was weak and whispery, and he shook in obvious terror..

At least until Logan turned him around to face Lorna. The man stilled, and then swallowed thickly as his gaze settled on her. "Y-You!" He struggled against Logan's hold, it was weak, the man not particularly strong even by human standards.

Lorna stepped forward, glaring. "Yep, me, Polaris. I'll cut to the chase, Doctor Miller.. You committed crimes against Genosha's mutates, tortured them and enslaved them.. and now you're helping the US government commit genocide against my people.. why should we let you live?" She whispered, her brows furrowed.


The Wolverine is content to hold the scientist so Lorna can speak her peace and do what she will with the man. Each time he struggles to get free, Logan tightens his grip, his adamantium bones locking down on Miller's arms like a vice. He silently watches Lorna from over the doctor's shoulder.

Doctor Miller is visibly shaking and on the brink of a breakdown not only from being completely manhandled, but from the sight of Polaris. His mouth opens and trembles without any sounds for a moment until he is finally able to speak, "I'm..m..m… I'm just doing what I'm told!" Tears start to stream down his cheeks as he fears for his life, "Please, don't kill me!"

The man holding Doctor Miller suddenly changes expressions, a scowl crossing his weathered features, "Christ." He holds the good doctor away from him as far as he can while maintaining control, "He pissed 'imself." The carpet beneath Doctor Miller begins to darken in a slowly expanding circle.


Lorna stood, arms crossed as anger twisted her features, "Oh really? Do you think that means you're innocent? That you're free of guilt? I suppose I should be thankful that you're not 'just following orders'." She snorted, her voice twisted with a scowl. Knives came flying from pockets at her sides, twirling in the air in a menacing way toward the weeping Doctor Miller. Of course, that's when the man pisses himself in absolute terror. He knew who Polaris was, how could he not? Her face had been plastered all over the internet and news thanks to Magneto's propaganda campaign..

It made her stomach turn, and she turned her green eyed gaze to Logan, her lips twisting. She had fought in Genosha, for the war, but that had been against soldiers and Magistrates.. not men inside their homes weeping and begging for their lives. It zapped her anger, leaving her disgusted.
Dr. Miller struggled again, weeping and shaking.


Logan returns Lorna's glance, his eyebrows furrowed and his face twisted. He leans in close to the doctor's ear, trying to ignore the overwhelming odor of the man's urine in his way-too-sensitive nostrils, "You should be careful, bub. If we found you, who knows who else will." He tightens his grip even more on the man, bending his arm behind his back almost to the point of snapping it. "Killin' off a species that can easily stamp you out like a bug ain't so smart an idea."

Not exactly a diplomatic way of changing the man's world view, but sometimes
Xavier's ways just don't do the trick. At least as far as satisfying the needs of the oppressed is concerned. There's a time and place for talking, but there's a time and place for action. And it seems to be effective in this case, as Doctor Miller is openly weeping at this point, "I'm so so so sorry, please!" His eyes are open but he can hardly see through the pool of tears, "Please forgive me, please! Don't let me die!"
Logan sighs and looks over at Lorna and offers her a shrug. Hell if he knows what to do about this guy. It's her call.


It was almost enough for Lorna to feel for the man. Almost. Almost enough to sway her. But he had seen their faces, and if they let him go? He'd go back to his job working to help oppress and eradicate mutants. He'd help make sure that people like her, like her daughter.. had no future. With the looming threat of slave collars, sentinels, extinction… extreme measures were needed.
Jean wouldn't agree with her, nor would Scott or the others..

But even as her resolve strengthened, Dr. Miller continued to weep and beg for his life. Lorna knew this would haunt her on some level. "How many people begged for their lives? How many did you force under torture to your experiments? How many died?" She sneered, "Tell me that."


The man stood in silence for a moment, except for his constant whimpering as the tears continued to pour down his face. Logan could feel the man's heart nearly beating its way right out of his chest and the steady trembling suggests he is already in shock. The question doesn't even register in his mind as he is pleading for his life, "I sw… I. Swear." His face droops slightly as he looks at Lorna, "I am done." His head shakes from side to side as his lips stretch out, opening wide like he's screaming but no sound comes out. "I will go somewhere far away and never do it again. I will never hurt anyone ever again."

Logan looks almost bored compared to Captain Courage here. He fishes in his pocket with one hand for one of his cigars and stuffs it into his mouth without lighting it. He just needs to chew on it for now. He was really looking forward to resistance an' this just ain't it. He releases his hold on the man and without hesitating places his hands on either side of his head and then just twists. A loud pop, a single 'urk' from Miller's mouth, his body hitting the floor with the dull thud against the carpet and then nothing.

Logan steps over his body and makes his way past Lorna back into the hallway and heads towards the door.


Lorna fell silent as the man tried one last ditch effort to save his skin, promising anything and everything. The woman slowly shook her head, the knives in the air swirled back, as if she were readying to throw them back at the weeping man. Of course.. that's when Logan looked bored and simply snapped the man's neck, and dropped him to the ground. She shook her head, sheathing the knives as she glanced back to Logan as he made his way toward the door. She lofted a brow upwards.

"Is it fine to leave this.. like this? I mean… not too many people get their heads snapped Logan.. Right?" The ideal had been to make it not look like mutants had killed him.. It's why she'd brought knives.


He had thought about that. He had considered grabbing one of the knives floating in the air and stabbing the doctor in the heart. He had also considered just using one of his claws to do the same. Ultimately, he just wanted to get it done before
Lorna did it. He's along on this journey with her, but he wants to do what he can to keep as much blood off her hands as possible. He could sense that she may have been feeling bad for the man and he didn't want that eating at her for the rest of her life. He knew it would.

Before reaching the front door, he steps into the kitchen and looks around for a moment until he finds a knife block. He grabs a chef's knife and trudges back into the living room, looking at Lorna as he steps back over to Miller's body, "I don't want you here for this, darlin'. I'll be back at the car in 5 five minutes." He grabs a hold of Miller's hair and lifts his head up a little and grips the knife with his other hand and waits, wanting Polaris to leave the room.


Lorna huffed a breath as Logan slowed his steps and turned toward the kitchen to come back with the knife in his grip. She stood with her arms crossed, watching as he came back into the room and stepped toward the body and told her to head to the car. She felt her lips twist, her throat tighten. "People don't cut off people's heads in random murders Logan, I've watched enough crime dramas for that. I could've stabbed him and been done with it. We should trash the place.. make it look like a robbery, right? I can do that. It's not like my methods will leave finger prints.." She was speaking calmly, rationally even.

But there was decidedly a note of detachment that Logan would pick up on, the way her jaw was tighter, the way her eyes ghosted away from the body. It wasn't that Lorna was squimish. Not even by a long shot, but this wasn't the hard fight against a genocidal scientist that she'd been looking for.


Cut off his head? Logan looks back up at her and somehow manages to purse his lips even though a thick stogey is perched between them in one corner. He speaks through the gnashed teeth, still chewing on the cigar, "I'm not cuttin' his head off. Don't need a kitchen knife fer that." The cigar rolls between his lips as it shifts from one corner of his mouth to the other while he shifts position over the dead body.

Logan positions himself between Lorna and the body so she can't see what he's about to do. He'd wait for her to leave but just don't think she's going to and they need to get this show on the road. He squeezes the knife and slips it into the side of the man's neck, clear through to his spinal cord. Any damage done from twisting the neck is now obscured, by the knife wound. The neck is clearly broken, but at least it isn't clear that someone came up and tried to remove his head. He pulls the knife out and sighs, rising back to his feet, turning to face Lorna again.

"If you can float a few things outta here to make it look like a robbery, we can get outta here," he says as he starts making his way back towards the door. A small table is in the hallway with the man's keys and wallet and a small stack of mail. He grabs the wallet and stuffs it into his pocket.


Lorna exhaled a snort, and shrugged, before she turned away, noting what Logan was trying to spare her and fighting internally with herself on whether to argue or not. "Alright, sure.."

Still, her gaze landed on the expensive tv, her senses picking up on the laptop, tablet and phone that all remained plugged in at various states of being charged in the house. She closed her eyes, her hands stretching out before the smaller items floated down the hallway and into her arms, floating lightly under her direction. The knife that Logan used melted without much more than a wiggle of her fingers, quickly molding into some sort of decorative trinket. No more murder weapon to match to anything.

She was being careful, perhaps overly so, but unlike her father… Lorna didn't want people to track them back to this mess. There was no glory in murdering helpless, scared, humans when they begged for their lives. But this mattered. Something had to be done to stop them from destroying more lives.

"Yeah.. yeah.. lets get out of here.."

Logan follows Lorna and the floating assortment of the only things of value in the Miller household. When they reach the door, he waits for her and the pile to exit and then follows suit. When the door closes fully, he stops and waits for Lorna to make her way out to the road so she's away from the townhouse. When she disappears from view, he turns and lurches forward, shoving his shoulder against the door. The frame splits and gives way easily to the weight of his adamantium. He takes a few steps back and surveys his work. Definitely looking like a home invasion.

Satisfied, he turns and makes his way back out to the sidewalk and heads back to the car.

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