That night, in Arizona, Rosalie Carbone and Tony visit a small mobile home in the middle of nowhere. "Keep an eye out, will ya?," she asks him and he draws a gun and surveys the area. Rosalie knocks on the door of the house but there is no answer. She waits and knocks again. Suddenly, there's the sound of a rifle loading behind them and when they turn, they see Mary Walker. She has a rifle aimed at them and stands at a safe distance. "Drop the gun," she commands. Rosalie gives Tony a look and he obliges.
"Did the Meachums send you?," she asks.
"I don't know who they are," Rosalie explains, "You're Mary, right? Mary Walker?"
"Walker. Just Walker."
"Walker, I'm Rosalie Carbone. I got a job for you. I'm willing to pay -"
"Who told you I was here?"
"I can't tell you that."
"I will kill both of you. This is my only warning."
She hesitates at first but then gives a name, "Wilson Fisk."
"Bullshit. I have nothing to do with him."
"It's true. He kept tabs on you in case he needed you but listen, he's got nothing to do with this. I'm the one with the job offer. If you don't want it, we'll fly back to New York and you'll never see us again."
Walker grits her teeth angrily, "It doesn't matter does it? You people will never let me escape. Live on my own," her voice gets a bit deeper, "I could kill the both of you... I should kill the both of you,... but that won't change will it? I'll have to keep killing until I know I'm safe and that will never happen."
"Look we get it. We're gone, alright? You won't have to worry about us anymore."
"If it's not you, it'll be someone else. There's no escape," she grows more intense as she speaks, "It's Sokovia all over again."
She blinks twice and her face goes blank. She drops the rifle at her feet, pulls back her hood, and runs a hand through her hair, turning it into a mess. Rosalie and Tony stare in stunned silence as she surveys her surroundings as if viewing them for the first time. She turns to them and in a hissing voice asks, "Where the hell am I and who are you people?"
Luke Cage wakes up on a cot and rubs his forehead as he grimaces. A hand reaches out with a small bottle of Aspirin. He takes the bottle instinctively and then looks up in alarm, "Claire?". Claire Temple sits next to his cot. They rest in a police drunk tank in Harlem. "They called me because they were afraid you were worse off than you were," she tells him, "That acid bath you took a while back really did make you stronger."
"Not that much stronger. I still got a headache."
"Pain killers will help," she hands him an ice pack, "This will take care of the swelling."
He takes it reluctantly, "Thanks. How have you been?"
"You mean since you broke up with me and became a crime boss? I can say that I've been better."
"I get that a lot these days," he takes in his surroundings, "Are we in the police station?"
"Of course you are."
"Misty?"
"She hasn't brought you up on any charges yet. You're lucky they caught Frank Castle at the same time. They have bigger fish to fry right now."
"So if I'm not charged with anything, I guess I can walk," he begins to get up.
"And then what? Misty is trying to help you as much as she can but you know it's out of her hands. The captain is willing to give you a second chance, but we don't know about the DA. Or the feds. You walk out that door and your problems will get worse."
"There's a gang war out there."
"Yeah, and you plan to take care of it on your own? How's that been working out for you so far?"
"What, you think I should team up with the people who just kicked my ass?"
"It sounds like you don't have much choice," Claire leaves, "It's good seeing you, Luke. Take care of yourself."
Frank Castle sits in an interrogation room, handcuffed to the table. His expression is blank and does not change when Misty Knight enters the room.
"Frank Castle," she begins as she sits down, "Better known as the Punisher."
"That's your name for me, lady. Not mine."
"Considering the armored vest with the skull on it, I'd say it's a moniker you've more than adopted."
"It lets my targets know who came for them."
"You seem pretty sure of yourself considering you're looking at a lengthy prison sentence. You know, there was a time, you could have found a sympathetic jury. A family man and former vet struck by tragedy who was unable to cope. A lot of people would take it easy on you for that. As far as I'm aware, everyone even remotely involved in the death of your family have been killed, which means, since that time, you have been engaged in a war... for no real reason. No one's gonna feel sorry about that. Your ass is going to prison for a very long time."
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"Certainly not. So why did you target Luke Cage?"
"Probably for the same reasons you did."
"Except it's my job."
"If you did your job well enough I wouldn't be needed."
"Trust me, no one needs you."
"That a fact? So tell me, who do you have at the docks to keep an eye out for the Triads?"
"What are you talking about?"
"The Hatchet Gang has a shipment coming in tonight. I learned about this information from some kids in Chinatown. One of them knew a bookie or something who heard about it."
"And you're sure of this?"
"Not absolutely. I was planning to head to the pier myself after I took out Cage. My guess is they're bringing in some weapons."
"What pier?"
"Red Hook Pier, over in Brooklyn. Check it out for yourself. If I were you, I'd bring some of your friends."