"Right. You fucks all know why we're here."
"Fuckin' Punisher."
"Punisher."
Jackson Bark, current leader of the Armored Hoods gang, stood at the head of the table in the backroom of a local bar at the docks. They have reign over most of the Manhattan docks. At war with several smaller gangs over turf, the docks had always been a warzone. Sharply dressed and with a glass of bourbon in hand, Jackson threw a stack of photos onto the table for his men to view.
"Castle's been busy, pickin' off our boys. Last week he dispatched a crew with a car bomb, bastard," said Jackson and threw back a swallow of his bourbon.
"Why ain't we setting this city on fire? Blow up as many shit as we can find," said one of Jackson's thugs.
"You nuts? And give Punisher even more reason to come after us!" argued another.
"Fuck Castle, and fuck this city! Next time he shows his face, I'll cut it off!" said yet another thug.
"We need more firepower. More men. If we are to take control over the docks entirely, we'll need more. The Russians and Jamaicans are gunning for our turf. And with Castle around, there's too much action for us to take on alone. We need more guns and trigger fingers," Jackson calmly said while he placed his empty glass on the table.
"What about this Kingpin character? Think the rumors are true? The Kingpin of Crime, the man's a legend already," said George, another of Jackson's boys.
"Stories, gents. Just fairytales. I never met the man nor do I believe he's real," Jackson answered as he fixed his tie and sat down at the head of the table. A total of 15 men sat at that table, Jackson included it be 16. Those 15 were his own crew, they ran things for him and controlled the smaller teams that pushed the guns and drugs Jackson was bringing into the city every week.
The bar was one that criminals often used, some workers down at the docks visited the bar a few times a week as well, but the two rarely interacted with one another. Outside the bar stood three of Jackson's boys, henchmen he often used as bodyguards. Each armed with a two-barrel shotgun, a cigar clenched between their teeth and a cheap suit. The cold night air stung and one of them grabbed a flask from his back pocket.
"You guys wanna get warm?" he asked as he twisted the cap off and took a gulp.
"Sure," the other two said in unison.
Not too far from the bar was a container yard, many large containters were stored there for overseas travel. Unknown to the three guards they'd soon have company. Sporting a black trench coat, camouflage pants and army boots with various firearms strapped to his person. Frank Castle climbed a container with a custom-modified sniper rifle hung around his neck.
He calmly removed it from his neck and unfolded the bipod, setting it in place. A thermal scope atta ched to the weapon.
Frank took his time as he kneeled down and adjusted the scope to his liking. The Heckler & Koch PSG1, not his favorite of sniper rifles, but it'll do. He drew a silencer from behind his back, it was attached to the back of his tactical belt. After he attached it to the barrel there was no more to be done, nothing but to take that first shot. He glanced through the scope as he saw the heat signatures of all three guards. He took that first sigh, the first one was to steady his hand, the second one was to taste the kill, and the final third sigh was to punish. He fired a shot, a faint thud launched the bullet as it cut through the cold night air and struck the guard in the middle. The man's throat blown open like a vat of wine, blood sprayed out as the bullet carved its way through a jugular vein.
The other two guards aimed their shotguns in all directions, breathing heavy. " The fuck was that!?"one of them asked.
"Shut up and kee-" the other guard suddenly fell backwards before he could finish. A bullet shot through his mouth and out the back of his head. He dropped like a sack of flour, blood oozed out of his mouth.
"Screw this I'm out of here!" said the last guard as he turned with the intent on entering the bar. But before he reached the knob of the front door, a bullet dug its way through the back of his head and he fell face-first against the door. Slowly his body slid down, a trail of blood smeared over the door as his head brushed against it.
"Three bullets, three kills. Good," Castle said, his voice tainted by years of smoking. He rose to his feet and dismanteld his sniper rifle before he hung it back around his neck.
Meanwhile inside the bar, Jackson and his boys settled on a plan of action.
"We play this right. Reserve our strength until the time is ripe. In the meantime I'm sending out word for a pro. Someone who's on equal footing with that nutjob," Jackson said as he leaned forward.
"Who're you thinkin' will take that scumbag out?" asked one of his men.
"Ever heard of a man named Bullseye?" Jackson said with a certain tone to his voice.
"That guy's real?" asked another.
"As real as the Punisher," Jackson said.
"He's history if we get that crazy son of a bitch to come here!"
"Bullseye's gonna bitchslap that nutjob."
"Hey, any of you guys smell somethin' burning?" another one amongst the fifteen thugs suddenly said as he turned his head toward the door that would lead to the bar.
"Burning?" Jackson said and he turned around as well, they all faced the door now. He smelled it too. "Listen!"
The cracking of fire echoed from the bar and smoke began to ooze through the narrow lines underneath the door. "Out the back, fast!" said Jackson and they all rose up in panic, one by one they began to flee toward the back exit.
The front of the bar was set ablaze and a roaring fire tore down everything in its path. They emerged from the back door exit and hurried into the alley that it led to. And there, in the middle of that narrow alleyway stood the Punisher. Towering height, broad-shoulders and with two 50 caliber Desert Eagle handguns clenched in his hands. He immediately began unloading clips, bullets soared through the alley and bodies dropped to the floor. Headshots, they were all headshots. 15 were quickly reduced to 6. The remaining thugs fled back inside the backroom of the bar, whilst the flames ate away at the door and it would be minutes before the entire building was burning.
He stepped over the dead bodies as he came to finish the job. They were trapped like rats. The flames on one side of the door and Castle on the other. "That shithead is coming for us all!" yelled one of the remaining thugs.
"So go out there and kill him!" Jackson said as he pulled a 44 Magnum out from underneath the table they sat at before. "Go out there or I'll kill you!"
Castle stood outside in front of the back door exit, he smelled the burning of alcohol and wood. The smoke and flames reached for the skies above as even the rooftop sizzled like a candle now. He cleared his throat and knocked on the door a few times. "Send out the boss and I'll let you assholes live. Send him out and I'll spare you," Castle shouted. "I'd hurry up if I were you. This building will fall on your heads in a matter of minutes."
Castle crossed his arms and stepped back, he stepped back far enough until he felt a wall against his back. He waited for a response. After a minute or two there were some inaudible screams and even a few gun shots that came from inside before the back door swung open and Jackson Bark was thrown outside. He fell face-first on the ground and it appeared he had lost his handgun. The remaining 6 thugs stood inside and looked at Castle while flames rose behind their backs, they waited for Castle to give a sign or something. They were scared shitless. Jackson looked up with a bloody nose at the imposing vigilante who stood before him. That notorious white skull painted on his kevlar vest.
"Be with you in a sec," Castle said as he looked down at Jackson and with a swift kick he knocked him unconscious.
Castle stepped over Jackson's unconscious body and toward the open back door exit whilst the thugs waited inside. They had guns and everything but were too stupid or too afraid to use them. Castle reached behind his back and from his belt he drew something."Thank Tony Stark for this," he said as he activated a device in his hand that began to beep and a white-blue light blinked. He tossed it inside and quickly closed the door.
He scooped Jackson up off of the ground and hung him over his shoulder as he walked away from the back door and out of the alley. He heard them scream inside as they ran for their lives but an explosion blew the door off of its hinges and it flew against the alley wall. The entire building began to collapse. Needless to say the remaining 6 thugs never made it out.
That following morning the paper headlines read: Known Gang Leader Decapitated. Punisher Strikes Again.
