Bullets bite into Logan's body, becoming tiny penny dots of embedded silver before they're squeezed out again. He is loud and big and an easy target to hit, and this is okay with him -- he is also smart and attentive and sees that one of the militia agents has apparently turned rogue in a stunningly useful way, or rather, he's not alone. Except he is, because he can't die, and tends to be the last one on the retreat. He hears, too, the angry crackle of audio feedback, and can make a guess.

For the next few seconds, Logan has his claws full with militia agents. Claws slice through protective armour like its nothing and come away ruby red. They're smart, though, and they start attempting distance -- the mundanes back up, give way to xenian and magic, and then the front wall comes off.

A table is thrown, interrupting progress towards the bar as it catches and breaks on two militia agents. There's a tense break in chaos, a break defined by Logan not getting shot and him not committing murder. He does not actually expect to take down everyone, free the innocent, and walk away humming a jaunty tune; he is going to have to run at some stage, and he can hear the sounds of reinforcement wagons encroaching even as the communications are scrambled.

But thoughts about exit and maybe he shouldn't leave that guy behind the bar are nixed by the time invisible force suddenly throws him-- into the ceiling, bringing him crashing back down onto the ground with the pinwheeling claws of angry cat.