Hotel Moscow HQ
Pain.
It was the first thing Chang felt. A headache. Like very bad hangover. It was the best headache Chang has ever had, because it mean a very important thing. He was still alive. Somehow.
"Glad you're awake, Chang," Balalaika said, "Hope you're well rested from your nap, we have work to do."
The boss of the Triads got up, dusted himself off. He remembered the plane coming down, the blast. He looked out the nearest shattered window.
He took a second to absorb what he was seeing.
Not very far from the manor, where the tanks and other vehicles were, there was a crater. About 40 feet wide, maybe 20 feet deep. And chunks of smoking metal everywhere. Which meant there were explosives on the plan. Lots of explosives. And that most of the men posted outside were dead. Nearly 500 men. Dead or crippled, at the very least.
"We're not done yet, Chang," Balalaika said.
"Whoever built this house deserves a big reward," Chang said, "I'm surprised I'm not crushed by tons of rubble."
"This house was prepared for a situation like this. It could withstand an air strike," Balalaika said, "Come on, we must be ready, they will be coming."
"Who? Whoever was on that plane is long dead," Chang said.
"Don't be a fool, Chang, this was obviously a diversion."
"Why do you say that?"
"They gave their lives to draw our men's fire. They sacrificed everything, just like our men did. But it was only the first step."
"What do you mean?"
"We are the targets, Chang, you and I and we are still alive. They will come for us. We still have about twenty men alive in this house. We have to make sure our comrades did not die in vain."
"You don't think Castle is working alone. You think he's working that mysterious group? Or that he brought in allies."
"We must be prepared for those possibilities. We must be prepared for anything."
"That makes sense, Ms. Balalaika. We should-"
"Wait. Quiet," Balalaika said.
There was a sound. Like-
"Engines. Trucks," Chang said, "Someone is-"
And soon, the estate was rocked with explosions.
"Looks like you were right, Fryface," Chang said, "They weren't done."
"Neither are we."
Three black Humvees were approaching the Hotel Moscow house. On their roofs, each of them had a modified MK-10 40 mm machine gun loaded with a mix of high explosive and armour piercing rounds.
In the leading Humvee were Nick Fury and G.W. Bridge. In the other ones, Black Widow and Clay Quartermain, Rhodes, Taylor and Rick Mason.
Each member of the team was wearing a headset.
"Move with a purpose, people," Fury said, "Hit'em hard and hit'em fast!"
"Wow! Castle did a number on these guys, did he?" Quartermain said, "Never thought this insane idea of his would work!"
"We're not done yet, Clay!" Bridge said.
"How is that house still standing?" Black Widow asked.
"It's like everything else in this town, ridiculously tough," Mason said.
"Cut the chatter and get to work!" Fury said, "Put some rounds into those shattered windows, come on! Make Castle's shot count!"
At many of the manor's windows, a man with an assault rifle or a mounted machine gun was posted, sending large burst of automatic fire down at the vehicles. The armour held, taking the abuse. The vehicles were ordered just a few days prior to a weapons manufacturer, the one SHIELD usually dealt with. That guy was particularly good with sturdy armour, built to take on the stark reality of war. They were sent, no questions asked. That, along with other tech used in this op.
Bridge was handling the MK-19 while Fury was driving. Bridge was inside, using a joystick and a computer screen to aim. Small cameras were connected to the launchers. It was like one of those goddamn video games kids had these days, but at least it kept the gunners safe.
The beautiful estate looked like a nightmare of fire and metal and it wasn't getting any better. Muzzle flashes were lighting up the place lighting up the place like fuckin' Christmas lights. Grenades were hitting the house's walls and blowing men to smithereens. The house, like Mason implied, was built or reinforced to take a beating. Good, because it was fucking taking one. But what would come next-
"RPGs!" Mason shouted.
The Rocket Propelled Grenades came out of several windows at once. The Humvees were fast. Easy to drive.
"Zig-zag!" Fury said, "Don't give those fuckers an easy target!"
The ground opened up near the upcoming armoured vehicles, the explosive projectiles blowing small craters in the ground. RPGs were not very accurate against fast moving objectives. The bad guys would need skill and luck to hit them.
One of the bad guys had both.
"We took a hit!" Mason said, "Flipping over!"
And the Humvee containing Mason, Rhodes and Taylor flipped over six times. Fury knew that the reinforced frame could resist the abuse, but his three operatives were still vulnerable. Fuckin' sitting ducks actually.
"I have a hit," Boris said, putting down the grenade launcher.
"Well done, Sergeant," Balalaika said, laying down fire with an AK-47 on the overturned vehicle, trying to find a chink in the armour.
Balalaika was proud of her soldiers. Especially the fallen ones who had given their lives to protect their captain. Part of her was grieving, but she was also at peace. This is what she was trained for. Born for. Total war against worthy enemies. Not thugs out for greed, but soldiers acting out of a sense of duty, a true purpose.
Chang and his men were not as skilled as her own, but they were also fiercely loyal and unafraid. No panic.
She watched Chang handle his own AK-47. Not the sleek black submachine guns he was used to, but he was still very good with it.
She looked at the enemy. They are risking their lives for their comrades. One vehicle going to reach the other to help the ones trapped in the overturned one. No one left behind. The other providing cover fire. More explosions rocked the once stately manor. More dead comrades. Only a handful of grunts left. Maybe twenty, but enough-
She heard a rumble. Despite the sounds of war, she felt vibrations in the ground.
"What is that?" Chang said, confirming it.
The one called Biu ceased fire as well: "It feels like...an engine?"
"The Humvees are retreating! Very fast!" One of the Hotel Moscow soldiers shouted.
"This engine is closing in from-" Balalaika started, "All men converge towards the back," she said into her radio, running towards the back her herself.
"It sounds like a-" Chang started.
Then an eighteen wheel semi-trailer truck smashed through the wall, running over a few men while bursting in.
All rifles concentrated fire on the truck. It must have been reinforced as well, because none of the rounds caused any damage. The tires were bullet-proofed and protected with some armour plates as well. So were the windshield and side windows and the gas tanks.
But why a truck? Why not an assault vehicle?
And who was driving? Who was leaping in the lion's den?
Frank Castle was at the wheel of the truck.
Flight simulator technology combined with high powered transmitter allowed him to fly a remote controlled plane almost to the gangsters' doorstep. And use it as a missile. Thanks to tech wiz Rick Mason and whoever Fury's contact with the armoured Humvees was.
Sometimes, allies were practical, The Punisher thought.
The truck was taking a pounding, but was holding on. So was the trailer.
All it would take was for one of these fuckers to get lucky with an RPG.
Castle pulled out a small remote, not unlike the one he had earlier. He pushed a button.
Very small charges were set off and the trailer was separated from the tractor.
Frank Castle gunned it, several tons lighter. He honked the horn and turned his brightest headlights, to disorient anyone trying to get a bead on him. An RPG barely missed him exploded somewhere on his right. Hundreds of bullets were hitting the tractor, a mad hailstorm of lead seeking a weakness, finding none. The Punisher then drove the truck through the other side of the house, out front.
He needed to get clear fast. He put his thumb on the second button.
Chang looked at the seemingly abandoned trailer. Then he dropped his weapon, pulled out two cigarettes, lit them and pulled a long drag.
The remaining men had their guns trained the trailer. But Chang knew. It was useless to shoot or to run. Or maybe he didn't care enough to try.
Balalaika also knew. Chang handed her a cigarette. They exchanged knowing looks.
Chang chuckled: "It was a good plan, Fryface."
Balalaika answered: "I know."
She pulled a drag on the cigarette. She took out a flask. Vodka. She took a swig. And handed it to Chang.
"This city," Chang said, "Think it will change?"
"Who knows?" Balalaika said, "It's not our problem anymore." She sighed. Chang thought she looked tired. Eager to rest.
She raised her flask. And spoke louder.
"Thank you all for your courage and honour. We have earned out place in Valhalla."
"It's been an honour, Captain", Boris said.
"Likewise, Sergeant," Balalaika said.
"Big Brother Chang-",Biu started.
"It's all right, Biu," Chang said with a smile, "I know."
All the men, Russian and Chinese, saluted.
When Castle felt he was far enough, he pushed the button.
10, 000 pounds of ammonium nitrate fertilizer, nitro methane and diesel fuel mixture were detonated.
The same recipe used by the Oklahoma City bombers just a couple years before. But twice the size. Just to be absolutely sure.
The Hotel Moscow house exploded. The wall and roof were blown upwards and sideways. The blast was beyond devastating. The truck shook. The ground shook. It was like being near the epicentre of the Big One.
"Castle!" he heard Fury's voice in his ear.
"I'm here, Fury," Castle answered.
"Jesus, we felt all the way here! You okay?"
"I'm alive," Castle said.
"Good enough," Fury said, "Our part of the job is over and done with. We get to go home."
"Yeah," Castle said simply.
Castle knew what Fury meant by their part of the job being over: he'd been talking with Thai authorities. Soon, a special detachment of the Royal Thai Police backed up by the Royal That Commandoes would take over policing in Roanapur, clearing out that corrupt sack of shit of a police chief. Now that a lot of the dirty work had been done, maybe something resembling law and order could come back to this city.
Maybe.