A little bit more action ;)

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That was how they found themselves waiting in that room where there was still the bloodied chair, the camera in a corner and a dead man with a phone in his hand. The barrel on their guns was aiming at the door Karen had come through not ten minutes before – soon or later some men were going to step inside and they would not get a friendly welcome. Thanks to the asshole that thought it was a good idea to brag about the others coming to kill them, no side would have the surprise benefit, and maybe their opponents would be more than a little bit spooked by the bodies they would have stumbled accross on their way there.

"Nice vest, by the way, Karen. 'Fits you pretty well."

She scoffed, then acted like she was adjusting a fine piece of clothing on her frame, gaining a smirk from him.

"Isn't it ?"

"It was smart to bring it."

She couldn't help but feel proud.

"Do you want it back ?" She asked.

Frank shook his head.

"Hell no, sweetheart, keep that on you. S'not your time to die."

"It's not yours either." She pointed out purposelessly.

He didn't answered, rather re-adjusting his handle on the riffle.

"'Feels like that thing had been used rather recently."

"Um, yeah, I guess..."

He glanced at her

"Dead ?"

"Most are."

Karen wondered when it had become that easy, to pull the trigger. It wasn't her first kill, of course – there had been Wesley, obviously, but also some more, in self defense, whenever her investigations lead her in the shadiest parts of the city. There were also those she didn't shot but who died because of her anyway, at the hand of her guardian angel.

The thought make her look at him from the corner of her eye. His breathing was heavy but under control, his gaze locked to the other end of the corridor, his finger steady on the trigger. Her heart clenched at the sight of his mutilated hand. She glupsed down her saliva and forced herself to focus back on the fight to come. Footsteps were echoing along the walls and they seemed to be closer by the second. Her grip on her .380 tightened.

"If there is more than one asshole, you took care on the ones on your left."

Karen nodded, doing her best to ignore the pounding of her heart in her chest. Why the hell was she so scared now ? Maybe it had something to do with the presence of Frank by her side, the assurance she could rely on him, she didn't have anymore to be strong to stay alive, and...

Her train of thoughts was cut off by the apparition of a man in front of them. She gasped, went to aim, but he was already falling on the ground, head-shot cleanly.

After that, it was chaos. She fired two or three times, gunshots and screams making her ears ring. She realized their opponents were wearing in combat gear, with bullet-proof vests like the one she was wearing. She moved in a haze, on instinct, breathing steadily, locking a target – their heads, mostly – and pulling the trigger without a second thought. A bullet hit her, right in one of the skull's eyes, but this time she barely felt the sharp pang of pain.

Rather quickly – even though it seemed to have been much longer, the fight was over, and four men were laying dead. They were probably the three watchmen the gang had talked about, plus one who hadn't found himself in her way before. Karen lowered slowly her pistol and all of a sudden the overhelming smell hit her. Her stomach clenched and she fought back a wave of nausea. No, she wasn't going to throw up, no, that was not an option.

"You're okay, Karen ?"

Frank sounded worried. She only managed to let out a weak « yes », before turning her head to scan his body for injuries – for new injuries at least.

"Nah didn't managed to shoot me either." He reassured her. "We're a good team."

He almost sounded prood and that make her laugh – rather hysterically, she had to admit. He leant up his assault riffle by his side and reached out for her arm with his good hand.

"Hey, Karen, shh, shh, it's okay. We got no choice."

"I know."

She laid down her gun too, took a deep, shaking breath, and rubbed her face, leaving there trails of blood.

"Come on, we got to move."

She got up to her feet and helped Frank to do the same. He winced as he put some of his weight on his injured leg, and she wondered once more how he even managed to stand up. She felt like she was average when it came to bearing pain but she was pretty sure she would have already passed out if she was in Frank's shoes. God, the bruises she had gotten from the bullet impacts against her vest were like the strongest ache she could act through like it wasn't there, and it wasn't much.

"To the entrance building it is, then ?" She asked, pushing away her thoughts.

"Sounds good to me now that the place is cleared up."

The casual way he said those words make her slightly unconfortable and he seemed to notice it.

"Sorry."

Karen shook her head.

"They brought that on themselves." She simply said – trying to convince herself. "Let's go."

They circled the corpses on the doorstep while she looked at anything but them, feeling her stomach twist again.

"It looks like my article won't be very useful, after all."

Even she was surprised by how neutral she managed to sound like.

"I think those were just the handlers." Frank said. "Didn't look smart enough to be in command, so..."

"Big fishes are still out there, uh ?"

"Yeah. They probably gonna keep their heads low after what happened here but, well, they are still bad guys."

"And the police is going to catch them."

He rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. But it becomes kinda personnal now, don't you think ?"

"No." She growled. "Let me try my way, at least."

"Your way as a journalist or your way as... uh... a female Punisher ?" He asked, eyeing the skull on the vest she was still wearing.

"Shut up, Castle, you got what I meant."

Karen looked at him and then smirked :

"Though I prefer being called a lady than a female."

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Thanks, again, for sticking with me that far ! Two more chapters to go, it should be more quiet now ;)

Any thoughts to share with me ?