THREE WEEKS LATER

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

SOMEWHERE IN NEW JERSEY

0200 HOURS

Three weeks after their meeting, Watkins, Castle's CIA contact, acting against stereotype, had a gift for Castle. And he was there to give it.

When he revealed it, Castle had to pause for a second.

Castle: "This must have taken some doing, John."

Watkins: "It's not much, but it will give you a fighting chance. I wish I could back you up more. My crew is South America. Some really nasty shit down there…"

Castle: "Don't worry about it, John. I'll make the most of it."

Watkins: " I got satellite pics of the place of the meet and I managed to get some info based on some very illegal wiretaps. There should be about three dozen wiseguys. Bosses and underbosses. No girlfriends, no family, no hookers, no one outside of the business. Between six and ten bodyguards each. Possible some hired mercs too."

Castle: "The more the merrier."

Watkins: "That's anywhere between 200 and 400 bad guys, Frank. Never mind the yakuza freaks."

Castle: "Yeah. Bad odds. For them."

Watkins: "You're hopeless, Frank."

Castle: "Took you this long to figure it out?"

Watkins: "Christ…"

Castle: "This is what I do, John. This is what I am. I crash this meeting, I could do a lot of damage to the power structure. I will scare them. I will hurt them. None of my efforts will be wasted. Maybe I make it out, maybe I don't. But those fucks will have felt my wrath one way or another. I'll feel even warmer in my spot in hell knowing that."

Watkins: "You take whatever victories you can."

Castle: "Not much of a choice in this sort of war. With these kind of odds."

Castle looked at his gift. It was a considerable edge, maybe even enough to succeed. But the mooks have gotten smarter. They no-longer underestimated him.

He would find out a week later how things would go.

Watkins: "I almost forgot, or have you already heard…"

Castle: "Code: Blue, the NYPD branch specialized in taking down superfucks, apprehended Morbius. They think he's behind that carnage on the docks. Makes sense that the cops would think that. They're also looking for me. It also makes sense that you don't share what you have with them. One leak and everyone goes insane."

Watkins: "Figured you would have known…and thought about all the angles."

Castle: "I'm more than just an enraged, hateful psychopath hell bent on revenge. Knowledge is power in this…field of work."

Watkins: "Yeah, ain't it the truth."

There was a pause between the two men. Old soldiers, in their own way, fighting their own battles.

Watkins: "All right, for real this time. Take care and fuck them up."

Castle: "That's the plan."

ONE WEEK LATER

A FEW MILES OUTSIDE OF HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT

IN THE WOODS

2000 HOURS

The Punisher was approaching his target.

It was a very stately manor. A large estate.

Neighbours were miles away.

Perfect.

Old house, bought from old money. From where he was, he saw rows and rows of limousines, armed thugs patrolling around the estate. Leaning against the cars.

This was the time where everyone was supposed to be there. Judging from the number of cars. They were all on time.

Again: perfect.

Castle was about ready to begin.

The thugs looked up at him.

Say cheese, you lousy bastards.

Closing in with Apache AH-64 he was flying, Castle aimed his M230 30MM Cannon at the rows of luxury cars. A long burst of M789 High Explosive Dual Purpose-both armor piercing and high explosive-rounds were chewing into the bullet-proof limos like they were made out of cardboard.

The gun sounded like the bloodthirsty bellow of a very angry God as it was raining thunder, lightning, hellfire and brimstone onto unsuspecting gunsels and vehicles. They were exploding one after the other, as the hired guns were turned into paste.

Castle almost allowed himself a smile and had to admit that it felt good.

After his first attack, Castle flew away, ready to come back for another pass. This time, he-

A vicious barrage of automatic fire came out of the house.

50 Cal Browning Machine Gun. It hit the side of the chopper, chewing into the metal.

Evasive manuvers. Castle took the gunship away from was most likely a fortress.

They were ready for him. More than ready.

A fountain in the backyard opened up and revealed a 50 cal machine gun. Automated. They may not have been ready for air strike, but what they had would do the trick.

She was already handling with difficulty. A concert of blips, the smell of smoke and tremors indicating that he was badly damaged. Targeting systems were down.

All right, then. He would have to guess-aim.

He fired some more HE/AP rounds at the automated machine gun and it exploded in a loud-

Another bip. Frantic.

He was painted with a laser signature.

Someone had a missile aimed at him.

He looked down and saw an SUV with the cab removed and a man holding a Stinger rocket aimed at him. Some 30 mil ripped the rocket-man and the truck to shreds.

But not before the Rocket was launched.

Castle was fucked.

Still being pounded by another 50 cal somewhere, he entertained no hopes and dreams of escaping the rocket. Once targeted, there was no escape.

And he was losing control. He was spiralling towards the ground. If the rocket didn't get him, he would crash.

He shut his eyes. At peace. He would finally rest.

He would finally be reunited with Maria and the kids.

The mind did something strange. Castle knew he had mere seconds to go, but somehow his mind managed to stretch that moment endlessly.

The beeps. The tremors. The smoke.

Maria, I'm coming home.

The missile hit the Apache, sounding like Judgement had just fallen in Connecticut. And the helicopter exploded in hundreds of chunks of burning metal.