Taskmaster never expected that the one he had to deal with would be Wolverine.
As a genius possessing photographic reflexes, Anthony Masters had the ability to perfectly and precisely replicate the physical movements of any target. This ability made him one of the rare Level 7 field agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Through video recordings, he had studied the combat capabilities of many superheroes, including Captain America, Daredevil, Iron Fist, and the Wolverine currently standing before him.
In a typical scenario, Taskmaster had the leeway to maneuver against average super-powered individuals, or even a hero like Spider-Man who held back to avoid killing. He could even find opportunities to defeat or toy with them. But dealing with Wolverine was truly nauseating.
Wolverine possessed superhuman strength, but that was manageable; Taskmaster dealt with superhumans daily and had learned to use technique against brute force. Wolverine had superhuman speed, which was also fine; Taskmaster's reflexes and body were trained to the point where he could intercept the other's attacks.
Wolverine's adamantium skeleton and beast-like combat skills were also solvable. For the former, he just needed the right weapons; for the latter, he had long ago memorized the patterns and could predict them with precision.
However, Wolverine's style of "trading a thousand points of health to deal twelve thousand points of damage" was very difficult to handle—I can regenerate indefinitely anyway, so do whatever you want.
"If only this were an ambush. I didn't bring any adamantium weapons or capture nets."
Seeing Logan crouched on the ground like an animal, Taskmaster cursed inwardly. He nimbly dodged Logan's pounce and raised his hand, firing his 9mm pistol continuously. He tucked his combat knife away and emptied his magazine, but none of it stopped the Wolverine from turning back and lunging at him once again.
"Maybe you can try this."
Taskmaster swiftly pulled a folding bow and arrow from his waist and fired an arrow straight at Logan's forehead. He knew exactly what Wolverine's next move would be. Wolverine had a certain feral instinct; while not as supernatural as Spider-Man's, it was enough to let him dodge or block threats by intuition.
"So, will you choose to block, or dodge..."
In reality, it made no difference.
The shot arrow immediately exploded, transforming into a bolas with spheres at both ends. Sensing Logan, the bolas suctioned onto his legs. Logan realized this in time, so the moment he found he couldn't shake them off, he would attempt to cut the cords.
Meanwhile, Taskmaster had already stuck several poisoned darts into Logan's body.
"A sedative strong enough to knock out a lion. Of course, considering your metabolic rate, it might only make you dazed for a few dozen seconds," Taskmaster said, delivering a fierce kick to Logan's abdomen. "But that's enough to give me the advantage."
"Maybe it's not that easy, pal."
Logan grabbed Taskmaster's leg and grinned. Taskmaster's expression tightened; he wrapped both arms around Logan's waist and threw himself backward with force.
"Your actions were already within my predictions."
Taskmaster performed a suplex, slamming the five-to-six-hundred-pound Wolverine into the ground, then drew the longsword from his waist. "Encountering you in a chance skirmish is indeed troublesome, Wolverine, but I know everything about you by heart. I can perform all the relevant counters in the most rapid manner."
"Is that so?"
Logan, knocked to the ground, kicked out with both legs, but Taskmaster predicted the move and dodged with a backflip. Logan flipped back to his feet and looked at Taskmaster with a smug grin. "Did you calculate this as well?"
Taskmaster saw the alloy shield Logan was holding. He felt his own back and suddenly realized things had gone horribly wrong.
Did Wolverine use a shield?
Unquestionably, no.
Then who was he holding that shield for?
As Logan swung the shield in a full arc and sent it flying with all his might, the "S.H.I.E.L.D. agent" who had been prone by the roadside in a fierce shootout with the Winter Soldier suddenly erupted. He caught the shield, his style shifting completely from the man hiding in the grass moments ago, as he charged headlong toward the Winter Soldier.
Even though it wasn't the same shield, the moment he saw that posture of running with the shield, Taskmaster realized the gravity of the situation.
"Oh no. That's Steve Rogers."
"Hey, bone-head, I think you've got the order of operations wrong."
Logan's claws slashed across Taskmaster's face. His mask was sliced open and fell away, revealing a face of Middle Eastern descent beneath. Taskmaster then gripped his longsword with both hands.
Well, the situation had changed now.
The person monitoring the battle also seemed surprised and tense, immediately issuing an order to Taskmaster.
[Retreat immediately.]
"While I completely agree, why?"
Taskmaster asked rhetorically while raising his sword to block a slash from Wolverine, then glanced toward the other side.
By now, the Captain had torn off his own mask. Waiting for the Winter Soldier to fire a grenade, he skillfully used the shield to catch the projectile, threw the shield out to let it explode with the grenade in mid-air, and then caught the shield as it fell back down, arriving right in front of the Winter Soldier.
"Bucky! It's me! Steve!"
Charging forward, the Captain saw the masked Winter Soldier slam his grenade launcher onto the shield without a hint of mercy or recognition. Steve ducked into a sweep kick to trip him, but the Winter Soldier remained motionless after being hit.
The Captain looked at the Winter Soldier, who slammed a fist into the alloy shield. The metal arm struck with a violent clang. Gritting his teeth, the Captain pushed back hard, shoving the Winter Soldier away. The latter merely took a step back before drawing a knife and walking toward the Captain.
"Stop! Bucky!"
Blocking the knife with his shield, the Captain moved in close to the Winter Soldier's body to prevent the left hand from striking his abdomen, while hooking his leg to keep him from moving. The Winter Soldier grabbed the shield with his mechanical left arm, attempting to limit the Captain's arm by twisting the shield, while the knife in his right hand prepared to stab.
The Captain delivered an unexpected headbutt to the Winter Soldier's forehead, finally forcing the latter to loosen his grip. Following up with a spinning kick to the head, the Captain knocked off the other's mask and looked at the face beneath.
It was indeed Bucky Barnes.
"You are James Buchanan Barnes, born March 10, 1917. You are the oldest of four brothers. Your family lived in Hell's Kitchen, remember? When you were thirteen, you saw a kid a year younger than you being beaten by a bully from his orphanage in the alley behind a theater. You stepped in to help him."
The Winter Soldier seemed to daze for a moment before throwing the knife at the Captain. Steve blocked it with his shield and continued: "Before you came of age, you won the YMCA middleweight boxing championship three times, remember? That little kid went to cheer for you every single time!"
He gripped both edges of the shield and slammed it into the Winter Soldier's face.
"You enlisted after Pearl Harbor in 1941 and were assigned to the 107th Infantry in 1943, remember? You were in the same unit as that kid's father!"
The repelled Winter Soldier looked at the man before him and finally asked a question in confusion.
"Who are you?"
The Captain was about to continue when a burst of machine-gun fire forced him to dive to the side. A Quinjet of unknown allegiance appeared, and several special operations soldiers descended, blocking the way to the Winter Soldier and hooking him onto a cable dangling from the aircraft.
For perhaps only the second time since his awakening, the Captain uttered a curse.
"To hell with you."
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