Wolverine watched him from a rooftop edge, rain beading off his leather jacket. Logan smelled of gasoline and iron and old blood. He had trailed Banner for two nights — not to hunt him, not exactly. To keep him from walking into something worse. The mutant’s senses had been a constant complaint, whispering where Banner’s measured mind could not see. The government had a new toy, Logan had heard. A weapon big enough to make a Hulk fall where he stood. The idea made his jaw tighten.
