Prologue

Five Years Ago

The room on the second story of Victor Emmanuel's Villa wasn't very large, but it served all their needs. Bar, TV, office, a safe for the goods, and stockpiles of drugs. It was what you'd expect for an underboss in the Gambino mafia.

Mario wasn't feeling that great today. He'd had to intimidate another couple of squatters in the Bronx, plus find a missing shipment of high-grade military weapons. Plus he had a killer migraine. He was about to let his men out of the room so that he could nap, if it wasn't for the knocking at the door. Mario figured that one more grievance wouldn't hurt him.

Frank Castle opened the door and entered the room. Immediately he recognized Mario at the desk. The other two men who were there were watching a soccer game; Italy vs England in the World Cup. There were also two more he didn't recognize. Both of them heavily tattooed and didn't look like typical mafia. More like bounty hunters or hired guns from some foreign country.

Not that it mattered to Castle. They were all the same. Time to do business here and get out.

"Hey there," said Frank, in a something of sarcastic tone. "I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions." As Frank expected, the others began subtlety reaching for weapons, just in case.

Mario looked amused. Also as expected. "Well then, Mr…"

"Castle."

"Mr. Castle, then, what is so interesting that you come here?"

"Well, I was wondering if you could tell me what happened a week ago in Central Park."

"Pretty sure it was like another day." Frank saw that Mario was tired, not willing to talk for long. "Did anything happen?"

"Maybe this will clear up your mind." Frank pulled out a newspaper clipping from the day he asked about. The headline read "WOMAN AND CHILDREN BRUTALLY MURDERED IN MOB HIT".

Mario's eyes widened, and then he reached for a drawer. "So, my friend, how much do you want?"

"I'm not here for money. Do you know who these people were?"

Mario started to get angry. "Okay, if you-"

Castle sprang into action.

First he pulled out the Colt .45 in his holster and shot Mario clean in the neck. He wanted him alive a little while longer. As expected yet again, the two tattooed men were first to get up to try and kill him. Frank pulled out his other sidearm and shot both of them easily. The other two, the ones who were there, got behind the bar and began to fire back, even getting Frank in the forearm. Seemingly unfazed, Frank walked towards the bar and unloaded his two guns in the bar. One of them gave a scream of agony (which Frank recognized as the cry of a dead man), while the other limped towards Frank with a broken bottle in hand, still trying to kill him. Frank easily took it out of his hand and turned it against him.

Finished, Frank began to inspect his surroundings, making sure not a sound was heard by the restaurant patrons below. A hand attempted to grab his ankle. Frank looked down, it was Mario's.

Frank grinned, then used his other foot in a boot to break Mario's arm.

Confident that Mario was dying, Frank decided it was time to tell him.

"That woman and her two children? They were my fucking family. You took them from me because you couldn't leave any witnesses to your latest holdup, could you? No. Now, I'm going to destroy it all. Every mob, criminal, or corrupt person dumb enough to get in my way is going to die. I'll tell your friends you said hello."

Frank expended another bullet, packed his weapons, and left as anonymously as he had entered. It was another two and a half hours before another mobster stumbled upon what was the Punisher's first "mess".

Present Day

".. and I swear, that's all I know about Kapalkin! I swear!"

"I believed you," said Frank as he pushed the Russian mobster of the roof of the hideout in Staten Island. It was one of over a dozen scattered in the city, and even more in the state.

This week he was going after a powerful Russian kingpin with ties to this new group called HYDRA. They were as fair of game as anything else he'd gone after these five years.

Frank packed his usual supply of gear for a mission: A SCAR assault rifle, five different pistols with different purposes, a full suit of Kevlar with his signature skull emblazoned on it, various passports, and about $60,000 in cash. He had walked out the door and was about to head out when he was saw something that surprised him.

Iron Man himself floated himself down to Frank's level. "Frank Castle, right? Let's have a chat."