Morning rolled around. Frank finished loading up his guns. He was taking an H&K SP89 (A civilian copy of the MP5K, it was pretty damn nice, though it was now banned from importation), and his trusty 1911s.

For long-range, he packed an MSG90, just in case he needed to slay bodies from afar. Suppressed, of course.

He packed his truck with the weapons, and headed out.

The Manhattan River was his guess where the scumbags had their base. It was a popular place for scum to gather, especially to dump bodies.

As he parked outside a suspicious warehouse, he noticed some mooks talking. They were open-carrying Type 56s. Must be the forward observation post.

They didn't notice him, thankfully.

As he headed to a vantage point with his MSG90 (in a rifle case, of course), gunfire rang out.

A truck was heading towards the gate of the parking lot, a man hanging out the passenger window with a rifle, firing wildly. The two mooks at the guard post fell without a shot.

Frank dropped to the ground and pulled a 1911.

The truck sped by him, through the guard post. An alarm started blaring.

Frank noticed the truck's passengers were Italian. A revenge attack?

He headed over to his truck, and got his assault kit.

He chambered his weapons, and headed in.

The place was a battleground. Who knew one truck could do so much damage? Well, Frank could, but he didn't expect it from common mooks.

A Russian noticed Frank, and yelled out a warning to his comrades. Frank failure drilled him before he could finish.

He kicked down the door to the warehouse's office, spraying thugs with lead.

As he cleared the rest of the building, he heard more trucks coming.

So it was a full-on assault. Probably the remainder of Papa Joe's boys.

As he burst through a door, he heard crying, screaming. Women's voices, shouting out for help.

He scanned the room. It was full of cages. Most of them were filled with emaciated women.

A slavery camp. As he turned to leave, and clear the rest of the building, one reached out to him.

"Please, mister! You have to help!" she sobbed.

Frank stopped. He should just clear the rest of the building, and not bother with these women. He wasn't there to save anyone, he was there to punish the guilty.

The cops could take care of this camp. So why did he have a bad feeling about letting them do so?

No time to think, a man came rushing in, gun blazing. Frank put him down with two Hydro-Shoks to the chest.

The women screamed at the gunfire.

Frank waited for five minutes, no contact.

He looked back at the cages. The women were as far away from the doors as they could get.

He sighed. He shouldn't be doing this.

He walked over to the first cage, and blew the lock off the door.

As he pushed the door down, the women inside rushed to him. He kept them at bay. Couldn't get distracted.

He did the same with the rest of the cages.

"Stay here." he growled, once he finished.

Frank exited the cage room, weapon at the ready.

The battle outside was dying down. The Russians had pushed back the Italians, but lost most of their men. Frank would finish the job.