Proceeding on… my huge thanks to all reviewers. Reading those reviews makes every second of writing well worth it. Seriously. For you guys it takes only thirty seconds to write out a short little comment, but to me, that feedback matters so much.

I do apologize for the delay in updating, I was writing a short Resident Evil ficlet to be entered into the competition on Another Order, a forum here on . If any of you are Resident Evil gamers, I'd love it if you'd check it out and let me know what you think. Don't worry, I kept the gore and depression trimmed down enough that it ends on a clean-feeling positive note.

On with the story.

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I wonder how the press will treat this incident. Stark Industries, Yakuza, and the Punisher. That'll be interesting. Hah. Forget the press, I wonder what Xavier or the X-Men or Jubilee will think of this---that'll be awkward, to say the least. It probably took five minutes for them to realize that I'm involved, assuming that the tour group we were in has been evacuated and has been interviewed already.

Hopefully I haven't dug myself into a pit by doing this—if the cameras I've seen around the buildings are working, and the press gets their hands on them, I could quickly become guilty by association, regardless of the legalities.

Wesley Judson

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"Don't people usually break shoulders doing that?" Wesley asked, looking at the roof they were about to jump to. "Not only is it fifteen feet below us, but it's almost, what, twelve feet away? We'll have to charge like maniacs and land on concrete."

"Roll into it." Castle said shortly. "It'll lessen the shock, and the vest should help a little with the impact." He ran forward, jumped, and landed like a professional.

Wesley let out a frustrated moan. Now he had to follow suit. At least he didn't have to leap off a railing—the Punisher had found a grenade launcher on one of the Yakuza and had used it to blow a clear spot in the railing, allowing for an easier jump. Wesley rubbed his forehead, then carefully unloaded and clicked the safety on the shotgun and assault rifle he was carrying before tying them together with the rifle's sling. Castle looked impatient.

"I'll be right there!" Wesley shouted over. It dawned on him that he didn't need to leap while holding the two guns—that could turn out badly. "Catch!" Wesley's throw was decent, and the Punisher easily caught the bundle before they hit the rooftop. Wesley hesitantly walked twenty feet back from the edge, trying to focus. On second thought, he took out the pistol he had taken off one of the Yakuza and clicked the safety on that, as well, making sure the chamber was empty and the hammer not cocked. It's not that far, it's not that far… He sprinted towards the edge and leaped across. The concrete rooftop came up to greet him with frightening speed, knocking the wind out of him and sending shock waves through his entire body.

"I should've stayed on the other side," Wesley gasped, the pain constricting his words. "I am never doing that again." He rolled over, facing the sky. "I'm going to have to see a chiropractor now, you know that?"

"You'll be fine." Castle said, holding out the weapons. Wesley regained his feet and gingerly accepted them back, reloading them for combat. Castle strolled over to the railing and looked over the edge, then back at Wesley, then at a hatch that covered a stairway. "Feeling up for a little rappelling?"

"We don't have rope." Wesley pointed out. Castle raised his eyebrows, as if surprised Wesley would say such a thing.

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Wesley carefully moved down another few steps, his hands on the rope. He had not brought the proper equipment for rappelling… but his jeans had belt loops on them. After some convincing by the Punisher, he had ran the cord through his belts loops, tied the end of the cord around his chest in case he fell, and lowered himself over the side. Now he was tightly gripping the two sections where the met at the front of his pants. God, if I die, please make sure I don't get a Darwin Award, he prayed silently. He loosed his grip slightly on the rope and descended a few more feet, positioning himself over the window. His legs were spread awkwardly, his feet resting on the frame surrounding the window instead of on the glass itself. He made sure his left hand's grip on the rope was secure, then withdrew a 9mm pistol with his right, getting ready.

"Come'on." Wesley muttered quietly, glancing at his watch. He wondered if his belt loops would snap, if he'd fall, if a police sniper would nail him. He glanced out towards the city.

The view was amazing. He half expected to see Spider-Man swinging from building to building in the distance.

BLAMBLAMBLAM! Twenty feet off or so, Castle had opened fire, still partially hidden in the stairwell. Two Yakuza ran past the window, heading down the hallway towards the Punisher. Wesley grimaced and squeezed off several rounds. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

It didn't break! The thick glass cracked, but refused to shatter!The two Yakuza turned around, perplexed at the gunfire. Wesley fought the urge to scream, grabbed the rope firmly, and kicked off the building, moving himself several feet away from the window, removing him from Yakuza's line of sight. Rifles cracked just inside the building and the window exploded outwards, sending fragments through the air. Wesley hesitated for a moment, then glanced back up. The railing looked fifteen or twenty feet above him. Wait for it! He leaned back slightly and pointed the handgun at the window, his finger on the trigger, wondering if they were that brazen.

One of them leaned out the window, holding a Type 85 submachine gun. Wesley squeezed the trigger, the gun spat fire, and the Yakuza collapsed, his upper torso draped over the window sill. He could hear a shout in the hallway and the body was suddenly yanked back. Wesley took a breath and waited, gun aimed at where the head would emerge.

The Yakuza suddenly went flying out the window, screaming. Wesley froze, baffled and shocked.

"It's clear." The voice hollered, the owner wisely refraining from leaning out the window.

"Castle?" Wesley called hesitantly, his heart racing at insane speeds.

"Who were you hoping for?" Frank shot back. "Get in here." The butt of a rifle emerged and smacked at the remaining chunks of glass, making it safer for him to enter. Wesley slowly maneuvered himself back in front of the window. Castle was already out of sight. Wesley kicked himself back a few inches to gain momentum, then swung forward into the hallway.

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"When we go in, stick with cover." The Punisher said in a normal volume. "Don't do anything rash. This could get messy." The gunfire down the hallway was masking the sound of their conversation and their steps. Yakuza was either fighting it out with security forces or SWAT. "Try to avoid shooting as long as possible to keep the element of surprise." Wesley nodded, the shotgun up and ready, the assault rifle hanging on his back. He had only four shells in the shotgun, so he'd use the ammo, then discard the weapon and switch to the FN SCAR, with its thirty round magazines.

They slowly moved ahead. Around the corner, through an open double doorway, they could see several Yakuza, shooting at people out of their sight. Wesley risked another look. The room seemed to end ten feet past the doors, turning into an L shaped balcony overlooking the floor below it. Castle signaled, and they advanced, making it to the doorway without being noticed. They were at the bottom of the L, and three or four Yakuza were spread out in cover along the two sides. A stairway joined the two levels at the top of the L.

"Now." The Punisher mouthed. They rushed forward. Three Yakuza were standing within ten feet of them, but their attention was on the shooters below. Wesley picked the one farthest to the right and charged the man, slamming him into the pillar before ripping the submachine gun out of his hands. The man swung a blow, but Wesley stepped forward, placed his right foot behind the man's left and shoved, sending him to the ground where he knocked him out with a swift kick to the head. To his left, Castle had already taken down the others. Below them, the security forces were still shooting.

Below us! Wesley realized. Stark Industries wouldn't waste the floor space. More Yakuza were directly below him. The idea of shooting through the floor popped into his head but quickly vanished. The floor appeared to some sort of marble or granite; the bullets wouldn't be able to punch through it. He glanced over at the Punisher. He was already at the stairs, moving down slowly while firing at the remaining Yakuza. Wesley leaned over the railing, wondering if he could get a shot at them—

—and a hand snaked around his throat, yanking him backwards and off balance. The Yakuza hadn't been knocked out! The gangster shoved a gun barrel into his temple and started walking forward. Wesley complied for the moment. How could I be so stupid?! Wesley silently wondered, his heart racing. They walked forward several more steps and it dawned on him…God help me, he wants to use me as a human shield! The barrel suddenly moved away from his head and aimed at the Punisher, who was now crouched behind a desk on the lower level. Wesley squirmed a little, testing. Only an arm was around his throat, not a knife. He could grab at the pistol, but the Yakuza had pulled him so far backwards that if he stepped away, Wesley would fall down. The Yakuza waited a few more seconds, trying to line up the sights for a headshot.

Indecision is a decision! Wesley reminded himself. He grabbed at the weapon, jamming two fingers directly behind the trigger, surprising and momentarily delaying the gangster, while shouting to alert Frank.

"Castle!" He shrieked. The Punisher looked up. The Yakuza reacted quickly, shifting his grip on the pistol, then twisting it several inches, snapping Wesley's fingers. He screamed, and the Yakuza quickly jerked the gun away, removing Wesley's now-limp fingers from inside the trigger guard. The motion had taken just over a second. The Yakuza pointed the gun at Castle and squeezed of several rounds. Frank ignored the bullets and brought the rifle up. Wesley shoved at the arm around his throat, budging it a few inches, then moved his head out of the way.

BLAM! Castle fired once. The Yakuza's head snapped back, blood splattering Wesley's cheek. A second later the body sagged to the floor, releasing him.

None of the guards were firing—the small battle was apparently over. Wesley gasped, shock threatening to paralyze him. He reached down with his left hand, removed the pistol from the Yakuza's hand, and discharged two more rounds into the dead murderer's face.

"You up there!" One of the guards shouted up. "You okay?" Wesley nodded, pocketing the handgun. Two of the guards were busily attending to a wounded third, while the fourth was reporting something over a phone. Wesley made his way down the stairs, feeling exhausted. He yanked the earplugs out, thankful as normal hearing returned.

"Can you adjust the display?" Castle was asking the fourth guard, gesturing to the security monitors. The tiny screens were blank, the cameras shot out. The guard nodded and adjusted something. Frank glanced at Wesley, a questioning look on his face. Wesley nodded silently, appreciating that Castle was pretending not to know him. He looked over at the two helping the wounded man, remembering…

"Hey!" He shouted weakly. One of them looked up time to catch the packet of Quik-Clot. The other guard looked at him.

"Where'd you get this?" He asked, surprised. He didn't bother wait for an answer. "Thank you." He went back to helping his hurt co-worker. The downded man's kevlar vest was soaked with blood and had a hole punched in the middle of the chest area.

"That hand doesn't look good." The fourth guard said, standing behind him. Wesley shrugged.

"I'll have a doctor fix it." He said. The guard yanked open desk drawer and dug through it.

"Here." The guard said. "It'll be better if you put a splint on it to immobilize it until you can get real help." He took out several pens and a roll of tape and took Wesley's hand. "It'll help." Wesley grimaced at the pain, but allowed him to quickly construct a makeshift splint. The guard slowly extended the fingers, then placed two pens on each side, then wrapped it with tape.

"Thanks." Wesley said gingerly. It did help.

"No problem." The guard said, returning his attention to the computer screen.

"I'll head through management and link up with your buddies over there." Castle said, speaking to the guard. "Radio them and let them know I'm coming."

"Will do." The guard replied shortly.

"I should probably evacuate." Wesley said awkwardly. "Thanks for saving me, Punisher." Castle nodded and walked off, heading on to the next battle.

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"Man, finally." Jubilee said, relaxing and sitting upright, stretching as much as the bike would allow. "I thought we'd never get here."

"It's been one stinkin' hour." Logan shot back. "We made good time, especially with traffic."

"Sure we did." Jubilee replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now what?"

"This whole thing was your idea." Logan reminded her, surveying the police blockade several blocks away. Behind them, National Guardsmen in Hummers were still arriving. "What were you expecting, that we'd be able to walk right in?" He rolled the bike over to an empty space at a shoe store and parked it. Jubilee's eyes were on the blockade.

"We might be able to sneak in." She said distantly, staring at the police and soldiers. "Maybe you could cut a hole in that fence. We're sure not going over the top." The twelve-foot high chain link fence surrounding the facilities was topped with loops of razor wire. Thankfully, landscapers had tried to hide the fence by planting bushes and trees near it. That would shield them from sight as they broke in.

"And what if it's electrified?" Logan questioned. She wanted to sneak in, she could plan it out. "When your whole skeleton is metal, shocks hurt more than usual. A lot more." Jubilee shook her head.

"It's not. I saw a guard lean against it a few moments ago," She told him. "But we'll need tape or wire to hold the cut portion up, so no one walks by and notices a hole. Hmm… wire, definitely." She got off the bike and started walking rapidly to a small shop. Logan was impressed by her thoroughness.

"Where'd you learn that?" He wondered, doubting Scott's danger room sessions imparted anything that useful on the students.

She grinned, pleased with herself. "Movies and video games. Let's go."

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Some time later…

"Give it to me straight." Tony ordered, cradling the phone next to his ear as he typed the password into the computer. "What are our losses?" He took another sip of brandy.

"We're still not exactly sure, and more than a few people are in critical condition." Mitchell said. "But at the moment it looks like more than half our security force is KIA or wounded. Eight scientists are dead or missing, and eleven tourists. That's not counting the four hostages that they took with them, or the protype combat suits. We've confirmed they took three of them."

"Where's the Punisher?" Tony asked, his words a little quieter than usual, evidence of his lack of energy. "I saw him in the middle of things."

"We don't know." Mitchell admitted. "We're still securing buildings and verifying they're clear. I've two guys manning the security room. They haven't reported seeing the anyone matching Castle's description."

"Then have those two guys review the feeds and find the him. Or his buddy, at least. I saw them near the accounting department. Put alerts on their faces and have the computer track them down." Stark ordered. "They somehow knew what was going to happen. Don't let them leave, but don't use force on either of them. We need to find out where our armor and those hostages were taken."

"Yes sir." Mitchell said reluctantly. "We should have their locations within ten minutes, if they're still on site."

"Call me as soon as you find them." Tony said. "I've got a call from Fury coming in."

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It's always the same. You want to leave a busy place unnoticed, walk out the front door, Wesley mused, his boots thumping on the stairs as he rounded the corner and continued down. Stark Industries even went the extra mile on the stairwells. Instead of the usual dark gray, these appeared to be imitation marble. Two guards were heading up. Wesley stepped to the side and let them pass, nodding a greeting. The second one returned it as he went by. Several moments later they were out of side and he continued on, his legs aching. He had gone down eight agonizingly long flights of stairs. The two broken fingers on his right hand were still throbbing, but the makeshift cast helped a little. He'd have Jean look at it once he got back to the school, she'd probably be able to fix it.

The stairs finally reached a dead stop; ground floor. Wesley yanked the steel door open and strode down the hallway, finding himself a dozen yards from a main lobby. It was bustling with guards and medical personnel, running various errands and speaking on radios. Hesitation made him look around twice. For whatever idiotic reason, he had foolishly kept the 9mm handgun the Yakuza had used to hold him hostage with. If he was frisked and the weapon found, he'd be arrested immediately—but no one appeared to have checkpoints set up. Wesley set his eyes on the door and headed straight for it. Extra large milkshake, steak burger, fries, find a park to have lunch at, be back at the Xavier's School in an hour, then I'll hit the pool and relax, track down Jubilee… He felt energized. He had done very well, all in all, better than a lot of people had faired. He was skilled enough to deserve the eighty grand a year that the Professor had offered him.

"You! Stop!" Someone behind him shouted. Wesley ignored it and continued walking purposefully towards the exit. The uplifting, positive energy vanished, replaced by a sick feeling.

"You in the navy coat!" The voice said firmly. "I am detaining you for questioning!" Wesley turned around, acknowledging the order. A guard was striding towards him, his pistol out and aimed at Wesley's face. The other guards and the medical personnel were alert now, gawking. Wesley guessed he had eight seconds before the guard reached him.

Six Seconds

The doorway was only fifteen feet away. If he bolted, they might not react in time. He could disarm the guard, knock him down and get outside in a couple seconds. But I'm dead tired, how far could I run?

Four Seconds

If he ran, they could probably id him from the surveillance cameras. They'd be able to locate him fairly quickly. SHIELD agents would probably be crashing his front door in within twelve hours…

Two Seconds

These people were just guards. It wasn't illegal to run from them. They couldn't track him down and arrest him. Outside those walls they had absolutely no authority.

They might shoot him though, if he fled and didn't do it well enough. Perhaps they wouldn't, as it'd be a public relations nightmare to have guards shooting fleeing tourists in the back. But NYPD or the National Guard had probably set up a perimeter around Stark Industries, and they would not hesitate to kill a man fleeing the site of a massive attack, being pursed by guards. He had to escape quietly, and he couldn't do that with a dozen witnesses.

Wesley raised his hands and surrendered.

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I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please leave a review, and lend me your thoughts on this chapter. My apologies again for the long wait. And yes, Punisher was somewhat ignoring Wesley when they ran into those guards so they wouldn't suspect Wesley was Castle's accomplice.