A rooftop
in Hell's Kitchen,
the next night.
"Alright, Joe. You got three seconds to tell me where these kids are or else you're gonna be roadkill. Got it?"
Frank leered over the edge of the building. A heavyset man clutched onto the edge for dear life, eyes wide in terror. His fingers wouldn't be able to hold for long.
"I can't tell! The Sin-Eater knows all! He has decided they are to die! They must be punished!"
Frank scoffed. "The Sin-Eater?"
"He is my master!" Joe blurted frenziedly. "He knows all! They must pay for their fathers' actions!"
"Look. These are innocent kids. He took 'em from a preschool and hid them somewhere for no earthly reason. Now, you ask me, it sounds like he's the one to pay, not them. Only ones responsible for their parents' actions are their parents." He crouched down until he was face to face with Joe. "Come on, man. Tell me where he is...last chance."
Joe still shook his head.
Frank huffed in agitation. "All right, then." He unholstered a pistol from its thigh holster, chambered a round, and fired.
The bullet whizzed past Joe's head, missing him by the narrowest of margins. The ear splitting sound rang out like thunder, and Joe lost his grip on the building. He plummeted down, story after story, until finally he hit the ground with a sickening thud.
Frank looked down at the carnage. "Jesus."
A few minutes later he was down on the ground, standing over Joe's body. Searching his blood-spattered pockets, he found a variety of things - handwritten notes, pictures, and even a cell phone.
There were three notes:
1). Once I give you the go ahead, go to this address.
2). Wait thirty minutes, then go up to the front door.
3). Once you're there, call the number I dialed on your mobile.
Snatching up the note with the address on it, he splayed out the pictures. They were all of the preschoolers, and a lot of them were taken with their parents. Scribbled all over them in red were things like "CORRUPT" and "MOB SCUM" and "MUST PAY!"
Frank shoved them in the inside pocket of his coat. Opening the cell phone, he saw it was on the dialing page, with a number already in the phone.
"Hah," laughed Frank to himself. "I'll catch this scumbag in the act. I swear, these goons don't got half a brain on 'em nowadays..."
The drive to the address in the notes wasn't terribly long. It was an old, condemned police station with boarded windows - a sight that gave even Frank an uneasy feeling. Around this part of town there were many buildings like this, but for whatever reason, he felt extremely on edge. He quickly scouted the place out - there was only one door that wasn't boarded up. In fact, the door itself had been ripped off its hinges, and it lay discarded on the ground next to the threshold. Frank peered inside, seeing a single light on deep inside the station. That, he reasoned, must be where the kids are.
Taking the phone out, he opened it and pressed the CALL button.
Several minutes earlier.
"Alright, bub, what do you want THIS time?"
Logan stood at the door of the X-Mansion, glaring down at Stanley the trenchcoat man, who had just arrived. Stanley approached him with wide eyes and a desperate look on his face.
"He's got my kid, Wolverine, my kid!"
Logan did a double take. "Do what? Your kid? Where? Who?"
"The Punisher. Frank Castle. He's got 'em locked in an old abandoned police station, down in Hell's Kitchen. He said to be there in five minutes or else he's blowing the whole place. You gotta help me!"
"Wait. You said them. Does he have others?"
"I think so...I don't know..." Stanley began hyperventilating. "Please, Wolverine, please help me..."
Logan threw a look inside. "Hank, I got somewhere I gotta go. Okay? Stay here and look after the place. Please."
Stanley heard a voice inside say, "If you insist, Logan. You sure you don't need help?"
"Yes, Hank, I'm sure. Thank you. I'll be back in a little while." Logan snatched up a leather jacket and threw it on, running behind Stanley to his car. Attempting to question him further, Logan inquired, "Why is he after your kid - "
"I don't know!" Stanley shouted at the top of his lungs, speeding through traffic like a madman. "I don't know I don't know I don't know - "
"Can you slow down just a little?" Logan growled, the force of Stanley's swerving throwing him around like a rag doll. "For God's sake - "
"We're almost there! Almost there almost there almost there - "
At last they pulled up to the station. Logan jumped out of the car, as did Stanley.
There he was.
Frank Castle, in the very flesh.
He was standing on the left side of the building, looking inside. He held a cell phone in his hand, and as he raised it up to face level, he saw them both.
An icy feeling ran down Logan's spine. He felt his face growing hotter and hotter, and his claws were out before he could even realize it. But then another sensation overcame him - his sense of smell. He could smell something inside, something that made his blood run cold.
"Oh, no, no no no no - CASTLE - "
It was too late. Frank pressed a button on the phone, and in an instant the station was overtaken by a mammoth cloud of flame, brilliant orange, that knocked him off his feet. The heat wave struck him like a train, and he could only lay there and scream over and over and over again. Stanley had fallen behind the car, and Logan could not see his reaction, but he knew that whatever he was feeling, the poor guy must be having it a million times worse.
Frank Castle had just killed children - innocent children - as a part of his vendetta.
Logan rose to his feet, slowly, taking in the situation fully. Stanley got up as well, limping over to him and sobbing wretchedly.
"My - my son - my son - is - is gone - "
"It's alright, Stanley," Logan said roughly, eyes still locked on the inferno, which had turned black with smoke. He could hear sirens in the distance, and he knew that if he had any chance of catching Frank, he could not afford to wait around for them.
"Stay here, Stanley," he said, prying the poor man off of him. "Wait for the police and tell them everything, even about your friend. They'll need to know. I'll be back."
"Wh-where are you going?" Stanley asked.
"To catch Frank."