"Damijin Spade, are you listening to me?!" yelled Diabla. "You have the entire state of Texas against you. If you think your one-man gang style is gonna work, it won't! Not this time. This time you need help."
Spade paused for a minute and thought about Diabla's words.
"You're right. Let's sit down and talk about this," agreed Spade.
The two friends sat down and talked.
"Dami, there's something wrong with this picture. Why would the FBI order a DOA warrant on you?"
"They figure I'd be better off dead than alive in a jail cell if I'm that dangerous." replied Spade.
"No, there's something wrong. The FBI has never ordered a DOA warrant. There was to be something more to this," stated Diabla.
"You're right, though. Maybe this has something to do..."
"With the police scandal that happed in St. Louis."
"Yeah, it's gotta be that," inquired Spade. "The FBI wouldn't be on my ass just because I killed some crooked cops. But then again, the FBI has a warrant out for my good friend Frank Castle's arrest for over 200 killings. Crime lords and whatnot."
"Wait, Dami," Diabla exclaimed, her eyes widening. "You've had dealings with the Punisher?"
"Yeah, we worked together when some renegade Yakuza thug threatened to wipe the country off the map with some nukes. Of course, Castle tried to get physical with me at first, but he realized we have the same goal- to wipe the scum off the face of the earth."
Diabla moved closer to Dami and touched his masked face, then took his mask off.
"I missed you, old friend," Diabla said. "You don't know how much my heart ached when you graduated from high school and moved away."
"Yeah," replied Spade. "It hurt me, too."
Spade reached out to Diabla, then he pressed his lips to hers.
"I missed you, too."
"All that matters is that you're here now. For me," Diabla whispered, her lips moving from Spade's lips to his neckā¦
