Somewhere in Mexico, Logan arrives at the headquarters of the Red Right Hand. Angrily smashing the door in, Logan exclaims that he knows they are the bastards that sent him to hell. He’s there to return the favor. Anybody who doesn’t wanna die like a dog better show themselves now. He’s giving them one chance to save themselves. There won’t be a second. Doesn’t matter who they are or how many or what they’ve got waiting for him there. He will raze this place to the ground if he has to and kill every last damn one of them. Thirty seconds. They’ve got thirty seconds to decide if they wanna die today.
A voice from behind him belonging to Cannonfoot tells him he doesn’t think they’ll need that long. Nobody’s giving up, trust him. They’ve been waiting a long time for just this moment. They all have. They drew straws to see who’d face him first. When Logan asks if he lost, Cannonfoot tells him no, he won. Dropping a rock on his curved boot, Cannonfoot kicks it at Logan and hits him in the face with it. With the rock stuck in Logan’s eye, Cannonfoot tells him that he’s supposed to save some of him for the others. But if he begs him real nice, he may just kill him himself. With that, Cannonfoot proceeds to toss Logan through a nearby wall with ease.
As the battle rages on, the civilian members of the RRH watch intently on monitors. One of the older female members states that this is so violent. She doesn’t think they can watch. Another, a middle-aged male member, puts his hand on her shoulder to comfort her and tells her it’s okay. They know what’s going to happen. There’s no reason to… Their leader, an old man, cuts them off and says everyone watches. No one leaves. No one looks away. No one even blinks. Remember why they’re all there. All of them. Remember who they’re doing this for. Remember how long they’ve waited.
80 years ago. The young boy’s father tells him no looking away. No covering his eyes. Someday this will be his job. He needs to know how such things are handled. The man recalls that his father was a hard man, but fair. He could haggle and bicker with the best of them, but he never cheated anyone and never once in his life told a lie. He never saw him beat anyone who didn’t deserve it. Never knew him to lose his temper when he was sober. He was a self-made man.
He started out with nothing and ended up owning coal mines all across Kentucky. He worked every day of his life and fought for every penny he could get. But not because he desired the trappings of wealth. It was all for them, he told his sisters and him. Everything he did was for them. When his miners went on strike, his father told them what would happen. When they didn’t listen, he and his men showed them by force. He showed them he was a man of his word.
But the strike didn’t break. Instead, the miners brought in speechmakers and union organizers. Socialist rabble rousers and Yankee loudmouths and some old woman who cursed more than any mad he’d ever heard. They talked of bringing in guns. His father brought in the Pinkertons. The union folk called it a massacre. But the speeches stopped. And it looked like the miners were finally ready to get back to work.
And then… they brought in somebody new. Some special negotiator from way up north. His father laughed. Only this wasn’t like any negotiator he’d ever seen – Logan. He had seen his father chase off coyotes and spit on copperheads and face down ten armed men with nothing but his shout. But he’d never seen him scared before. Not until the day he faced that man.
It shamed him. Having to sit down at the bargaining table and hear all their demands. It took something out of him. He figures that’s why he got so drunk and hit the old woman across the face with a bottle. His father was horrified by what he’d done. It was obvious. You could see it in his eyes. But in the eyes of the man who killed him, there was no hesitation, no mercy, no regret. There was nothing human at all.
When the boy knelt by his dead father, he looked up at Logan and with tears in his eyes, started stammering. Logan told him that he already knows what he’s thinking. He’s already figuring that someday, when he’s all growed up, he’ll come looking for him. Chances are, he’ll be dead already and he won’t have to bother. He then tells the kid not to chase him. The road he’s on, he doesn’t want no part of. As Logan left the room, the young boy had tears in his eyes and anger in his heart.
In present time, Logan continues his vicious battle against Cannonfoot. During the fight, Logan is able to slice Cannonfoot’s fingers off. Remarking oh hell, Cannonfoot kicks the head off of a nearby statue and into Logan’s face, knocking him to the ground. With Logan down, Cannonfoot viciously begins to kick him while the leader of the RRH looks on, smiling.
The old man then recalls that, when his father died, his rivals swooped in line like vultures. His family lost everything. When his mother and his sisters moved out west to live with relatives, he stayed behind. He worked twelve hours a day in the same mines his family had once owned. He scrimped and saved every penny he earned. He lived in poverty. He lived alone. He had no time for girls or any other such frivolities. No time to do anything but work, and plan.
Soon enough, he set out to make his way. He had inherited his father’s business sense and invested wisely. He procured a few oil wells in east Texas that came in. He bought stake in an ammo factory, right before the war. While other boys his age were signing up to fight against Hitler, he was walking the Yukon, hunting for gold claims. By the time he returned home, he had enough money to buy back all the mines his family had lost. First thing he did was shut them all down. Then he set them on fire.
Finally, he was ready. He searched all over for the man who’d killed his father. He heard stories about him fighting in the war, others about him living in the Orient. But nobody seemed to know who he really was or where he came from. Until one day when his queries were answered by some former associates of his father’s. A company he’d once done business with, somewhere up in Canada.
At the Hudson Bay Company offices, one of the men states that he knew the man’s father well. He was a pig-headed bastard, but the man knew how to make money. Handing the young man a file, he adds that he did not get this from him, does he understand? He tells anyone he did and they’ll both be dining in hell with his father soon enough. Reading the file, the young man noticed that the paper didn’t tell him much, but it was a start. It gave him an idea of who he was hunting. It gave him a bit of history. It gave him a name.
Sometime later, the young man confronted a drunk James Howlett. Upon seeing the young man in front of him, Logan asked whozzat. He doesn’t know no James. His name’s Logan. Who the hell is he? The young man replies by shooting Logan repeatedly with his pistol. Once he unloads the gun, the young man spit on Logan and begin to walk away. Opening up his pocket-watch, he tells his father that he did it. He is avenged. Just like that, he felt a tremendous burden lifted off his shoulders. His debt had been paid. Now, at last, he was free to go out and become his own man. To marry and to have children. To restore the family name. He felt a sudden rush of excitement. He felt the beginning of joy. For the first time ever, he felt real hope. And then, and then he felt something else.
After ending up in a hospital, all bandaged up, the man recalls that he, Logan, should’ve killed him. But he was too drunk. He probably woke up the next morning and didn’t even remember what he’d done. The wife, the family, the hope, he buried it all deep. It would all have to wait until he was dead. But the more he tried to kill him, and tried, and tried again, the more he realized he couldn’t do this alone. At a funeral, the young man approached the grieving widow and told her that he didn’t know her husband. But he does know someone else she might be interested in. He knows the man who killed him.
In present time, that same widow is still with him as she watches in horror at what they are watching on the monitors.
Standing up, Logan asks his foe if he called himself Cannonfoot. Picking up his severed foot, Logan asks him what he thinks they’ll call him now. As he tosses the foot aside, Logan looks into the camera and asks what else they have. Just then, he is hit in the face with a spiked ball. The blow came from Shadow Stalker. Licking Logan’s blood off of her hand, she tells him that his blood tastes sweet as candy. She thinks she might freeze some of it into popsicles so she can lick him whenever she wants. Popping his claws, Logan rushes her and angrily tells her to lick this.
Watching on the monitors, the leader of the RRH asks if they can confirm that Cannonfoot is dead. One of his followers informs him yes, quite dead. When the old man asks about their preparations, she tells him that everything proceeds according to plan. The old man smiles and says yes, yes it does.
Years ago, the leader of the RRH stood in a room surrounded by his followers, all dressed in cloaks. The leader tells those gathered that they cannot kill him. They have tried every way imaginable and they have failed. But that is all right. For as he will show them, there are far worse fates than death. They will repay him for every injury he has caused them. For every moment they have suffered, he will suffer a thousandfold. That is why they are there. Welcome, my fellow wounded, my comrades in wrath, welcome to the Red Right Hand.