LONG ISLAND

2347 HOURS

Leon Hu knew that being a Triad Brother and a bodyguard for boss Wong-Fei Lo was dangerous. He knew about gang wars. He killed his share of enemies.

But this was no gang war-this was pure war.

A dozen armoured SUVs crashing through the gates, men wearing full combat gear with assault rifles and grenade launchers, this was war.

The rumours were true, someone-possibly the Russians-were making a huge power play. Like in Staten Island. No one had ever done that before, as far as he remembered.

Big Boss Lo increased manpower to prepare for this. Would it be enough?

Leon watched as his brothers were cut down by automatic fire and blown up by the half dozen. These motherfuckers were hardcore. But so where the Triad brothers.

Oddly enough, Leon didn't feel scared. He felt at peace. Dying for Boss Lo was an honor. He was like a father to them all.

There was a human wall, also cars were put in as a roadblock-

Then something fucked up happened.

One after the other, the enemy cars were blowing up one after the other. The enemy soldiers were being blasted into dog meat. It added even MORE chaos and bloodshed to the existing carnage.

It was sheer hell. No, it was the apocalypse. The end of the world. Everything was blood and fire.

Then, it ended as quickly as it had started. The enemy was annihilated. The bulletproof vehicles reduced to scrap metal. All 12 of them.

Something caught Leon's eye. A large silhouette standing on the 12-foot wall surrounding the house, holding a very large weapon. Who-

Then Leon died.

He didn't live to see his brothers being destroyed by a hellish barrage of explosive automatic fire.

And then, soon, it was over.

THE MAN WHO JUST WIPED THE TRIAD HENCHMEN AND THE RUSSIAN HIT TEAM WENT BACK TO HIS CAR AND DROVE OFF. He was a large black man, with long dreadlocks and a beard. And wrap-around shades that were also aiming devices and were equipped with other modifications.

He had to meet with Fury. He had to admit he was glad he could be on the job. Gave him a chance to test his new weapons. A belt-fed automatic shotgun that fired C-4 shells. Experimental stuff. But the man didn't mind living dangerously.

J.R. Walker-know to a few as Shotgun wouldn't have it any other way.

BROOKLYN

ABANDONNED GARAGE

2352 HOURS

Castle double tapped one of the garage guys in the head.

This was a rundown part of town, full of rundown buildings and where cars on blocks were a trademark . No risk of collateral damage, at least.

He took more slugs in the chest as he bobbed and ducked, waiting for the automatic burst to blow his head off.

He was running back wards, with no cover, on a garage vacant lot, with ten heavily armed men closing in on him.

One of them had his head blown off.

The nine survivors turned. Castle rose his head.

Cleveland Franklin was standing on top of the Russians' truck, holding a USAS-12 gauge automatic shotgun, which looked like an M-16 on steroids, with a 20 round drum. Before they could fire back, two more men were gunned down, rib cages exploded by automatic shotgun fire.

"CASTLE!" Franklin yelled as he pulled off an assault rifle from his shoulder and tossed it to the Punisher. An M-4 carbine, while hosing down the rest of the Russians, one handed, with USAS, taking advantage of his high ground.

The vigilante caught it, took the safety off and got busy.

A long figure eight burst of .223 lead pills took down three more of the Russian hit squad.

The last four were caught in a cross fire between Franklin and Castle and were torn apart. They went down.

The stench of death and sulphur hung heavily in the air. The Marshal rolled off the truck and landed gracefully on his feet, rolled and was back up on one knee. Sometime during the fall and the roll, Franklin pulled out a stainless steel .454 Raging Bull Taurus revolver, with an eight inch ventilated barrel. The hand-cannon was aimed at Castle and was gleaming under the moonlight.

"Drop it!" Franklin shouted.

"We gotta stop meeting like this."

"Drop the fuckin' weapon!" Franklin was slowly getting up, .454 was rock steady.

"You realize the irony of making drop a weapon you gave to me."

"My job is to bring you in. I'd rather bring you in alive. I did what I had to. Put the rifle down, Castle."

"I can't do that, Franklin. Looks like we have stand off."

"What?"

"I won't kill you, you're a good cop. You won't kill me unless I threaten your life."

"I could wound you with the gun."

"I guess you could. How did you find me?"

"Played a hunch. I was right. The double homicide on that elderly couple would bring you out in the open. Now, I realize how far it went: it was a trap for you by

The Russian gangsters."

"I heard a gunshot."

"That was me. I was lookin', for you, so I scouted the best sniper spots around. I found one. There was a sniper there. I took him out. That was you heard."

"You did your homework."

"I told you already, Castle: I know how you think. For the Russian death squads, the feds and INTERPOL are in on it."

"Really? Anyway, looks like you weren't the only one to figure me out. These guys killed that elderly couple just to flush me out and take me down."

"Sorry, Castle. At least these bastards paid for it. But you, you still goin' to jail."

"Which brings us back to our stand off."

"Yeah, so I'll rephrase my previous order: put the fuckin' weapon down, or I'll blow your goddamn head off."

HELL'S KITCHEN

2348 HOURS

Widow pulled twin Glock 17 9mm pistols. She shouted: "Everybody down!" and fired a shot in the ceiling. Most of the patrons hugged the floor. Romanov crouched down.

The two men who just entered the bar pulled out silenced HK MP-5 sub machine guns from under their long coats. A few of gangster Flanaghan's men who were posted in the bar were reaching for guns, but too late.

One of the trench-coat wearing killers fired gunned down two thugs that had just gotten up to face them. The other hitman killed two more of Flanaghan's boys.

While they were distracted, the former KGB spy aimed each of her Glocks at one of the killers and fired both pistols. One shot each. Each of them took a slug in the forehead and had the back of their skulls exploded, spilling out brains and blood and they went down.

As quickly as it had started, it was over. No time for long drawn out Hollywood style gunfights. Quick and clean. Well, as clean as shattered skulls could be. She was headed for the back of the bar.

"Widow?" She heard in her earpiece.

"I'm here. I tagged two out here."

"The back's clear."

"I'll be right with you."

Seconds later, in the back room. The Black Widow saw the carnage. Eight dead. One wounded. And Nick Fury standing there with a smoking silenced M-4 carbine and a smoking cigar.

"I let' em out take this Flanaghan asshole and his buddies. Then I jumped them from behind."

"Not very fair, Nick." Widow teased.

"Fuck fair. I ain't Wyatt Earp, this ain't the fuckin' OK Coral. We'are at war and we have to eliminate this fuckers. I kept one alive. Maybe we can find out more on this fuckin' invasion."

"Good. Let's leave before the police come." Fury carried the unconscious hitman on his shoulders and out in the alley.

A new voice coming from overhead: "The police are the least of your problems."

"Who the fuck-." Fury said.

A crimson figure landed gracefully in front of Nick Fury and the Black Widow.

"Aw, fuck me." Fury said.

"You're not really my type, Nick." Daredevil said. " Natasha. You're looking good, as always."

"Funny." Widow said.

"Now then." Daredevil said. "You guys wanna tell me what the hell it is you think you're doing?"

BROOKLYN

2352 HOURS

"Who're you busting your ass for, Franklin?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Come on: you're risking your life to take me in, no back up, no partner, nothing. For what? To nail a guy who kills gangsters."

"You were a Marine once, Castle. You know about duty and orders. I have a job to do. I'm a cop. You're mass murdering fugitive. Things aren't that complicated."

"That cut and dry, huh? How many of these guys have you killed so far? How many have you killed in your career? "

"The fuck you're trying to do? Play mind games? You think I don't know how fucked up this is? You think I don't know I was sent on a borderline suicide mission to bring you in? You think I don't realize that I almost became like you just so I could do my job and keep it? You wanna know what the fuck it is I did to get this assignment?"

Castle remained silent. Franklin's voice was dripping with venom and anger.

"How about stumbling onto a gang rape? Five drunken pieces of shit on this one girl. A seventeen year old hooker. Melinda Roberts. Runaway girl from Ohio. How about beating all five of those motherfuckers within an inch of their lives and then learning that they are the sons and nephews of Senators and Supreme Court Justices? That's what I did. That's why I'm here, now, facing you. And I can't just resign and tell them to fuck off because this job is all I got. And I was raised never to give up. And they can't fire me, because I'm one the best god damn manhunters alive today. So here I am. You understand now?"

"Yeah, I do."

"I'm a cop, Castle. It's all I can do. I care about stopping crime and helping people. There are laws, there are rules, they have to be upheld. I broke a few here and there, but there's a line I never stepped over. You don't care about the line, but I do. So I'm here, now, asking you again to drop your weapon."

"I can't. You have a job to do. So do I. And it's a job the law can't handle. Not the way it should be. I'm sorry."

"God damnit-"

Castle ducked down, tossing his rifle at the marshal. Franklin fired. He missed. He had to raise his arms and block the flying weapon. He cursed out loud. He deflected the rifle and felt something land at his feet.

A flash-bang grenade. Franklin turned, leaped away and closed his eyes as it went off. The world turned white. When he opened his eyes again, Castle was gone. He heard screeching tires.

Franklin stood up, put the .454 back in its holster.

"Next time, Castle. And sooner than you think."