War Journal: November 3, 1943
It’s been a long road since 1935, since my father’s killers were punished and his ghost laid to rest - a road that has seen many an arduous day and blood filled night. Who is the target that has been at the top of the list that is the cause of all the pain and misery in the world right now? The one for whom The Punisher comes? Adolf Hitler.
I’ve been working my way up the food chain. I’ve gone from officers small and insignificant to the leaders of the party itself and the Nazis’ that hold the leashes of their German dogs of war as I’ve tracked the kingpin behind it all. Last year, in Prague, I struck gold when I cornered Reinhard Heydrich. The man was a monster of the foulest kind. Night of the Long Knives, Kristallnacht, the Einsatzgruppen - those were all his doing. Aside from Hitler, I figure he is responsible (directly or otherwise) for more deaths than anyone else on this cold, miserable continent. Heart of iron, indeed - man didn’t beg once even when I had my gun to his head - he just met my eyes with an arrogant stare that I’m very pleased to have wiped off the earth. But more than just Heydrich, I found a lead on another top Nazi dog: Johann Schmidt - head of Hydra, the maker of all Hitler’s top and most advanced machines of death.
And so I have come from Czechoslovakia to Italy, to what appears to be some kind of factory (no doubt making more weapons for the legions of doom). My work was almost for naught, though - the 107th, an Army division from my home, tried to take out the facility. Predictably, they failed. There was no way a single division could take a Hydra base while their director was there, which told me the US Army’s intelligence was just as good in this war as my pop told me it was in the last war. So the 107th booked it out bloody and broken, leaving an estimated few hundred behind to be captured. Sad as that is, it is a good thing for me - if they just got hit by a full military unit on the ground, that means they’ll be looking for two things: another ground assault, or an attack from the air in the form of bombers or paratroopers. It means they won’t be looking for one man in a black coat with a skull on his face sneaking in.
I’m coming for you, “Red Skull”, and before I’m through, you’re gonna lead me straight to Himmler; and from there it's straight to your bastard of a leader. After, you’ll live just long enough to watch me burn this factory of yours down to the fucking ground with all you Nazi bastards in it.
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In the darkness a man in a dark grey coat and a face covered with a skull outline crept forward through the brush of the Italian forest, eyes set on the only inhabited site for miles: a Hydra-SS weapons production facility. A hunt that had begun in 1936, during the Berlin Olympics, was nearing an end, and The Punisher was two steps away from finally killing the quarry he'd tracked for the past seven years.
Utilizing what his father, a veteran of the last war, had taught him, he moved low to the ground, avoiding any area that the spotlights shone near, and advanced. A crack of a branch to his left followed by a foreign curse alerted him to a sentry moving towards his position, and inexperienced one by the sounds. Frank Castle Jr unsheathed his father's old army issue bayonet and circled around behind the rookie guard at a snail's pace. When the guard stopped to turn to the right Frank struck, left hand snaking around to cover his mouth and right hand slashing out his throat. He slowly lowered the guard quietly to the ground. Frank gave a quick once over of the body for anything useful before taking his rifle and two extra magazines, and his sidearm. He wiped the blood of the blade on the inside of his coat and returned it to its sheath, then placed the Luger under his belt on his backside and got up and continued his on his way, rifle in hand.
-----
Up in the sky over Italy a lone plane soared ahead through the night, it's occupants: billionaire industrialist and playboy Howard Stark, SSR Agent Peggy Carter, and U.S. Army Captain Steven Rogers. All on a course for the same Hydra base, but to rescue the Allied prisoners rather and interrogation and assassination.
"The Hydra camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges." Agent Carter informed Rogers as they both stared at a map of the area. "It's a factory of some kind."
"We should be able to drop you right on their doorstep." Stark told Steve.
"Just get me as close as you can." Steve responded, "you know you two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when you land." he stated, looking at Peggy.
"And you won't?", she retorted.
"Where I'm going if anybody yells at me I can just shoot them."
"They will undoubtably shoot back."
"Well let's hope it's good for something" the captain responded, tapping his shield for emphasis.
"Agent Carter!" Stark called from the cockpit, "if we're not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late night fondue!" Rogers and Carter looked from the cockpit to each other, Carter rolling her eyes, for a brief period of awkward silence.
Trying to change the subject, Carter spoke "Stark is the best civilian pilot I've ever seen. He's mad enough to brave this airspace, we're lucky to have him."
Unfortunately Steve returned the conversation back to the awkwardness, "So are you two... Do you...fondue?" Peggy sighed, looked down, and made an expression as if trying to hold in a scream before holding up what looked like a small rectangular radio transceiver.
"This is your transponder. Activate it when you're ready and the signal will lead us straight to you."
Steve took it from her hand, examined it skeptically, remembering the "flying" car from the World's Fair, and then turned to ask Howard, "You sure this thing works?"
Stark responded, sounded offended at the implication anything he made wouldn't work, "It's been tested more than you, pal!"
Suddenly explosions near the plane lit up the sky.
----
Down on the earth Frank Castle was just about to cut through the perimeter fence when the flak guns started firing, and looked upward. An air assault? Do they want more dead? He thought, before seeing that it was just one plane. Air recon maybe? Whoever is up there has a pair on them.
----
As the shockwaves rocked the plane Peggy and Steve held on to their seats to keep from being thrown to the floor. Not having this situation, Rogers unbuckled himself, grabbed his shield, and stood up, making for the door.
"Get back here! We're taking you all the way in!" Carter shouted.
Steve ignored that command and opened the door, "As soon as I'm clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!" He shouted over the flak explosions.
"You can't give me orders!" She shouted back.
"The hell I can't! I'm a captain!" Steve the jumped out of the plane before she could respond, leaving a fuming Agent Carter behind.
----
The Punisher had used the unintentional distraction caused by the plane above to safely cut a hole in the fence and had mad his way to the factory's nearest wall before looking back up at the plane. He smirked under his mask when he saw just a single parachute jump out of it as the plane veered sharply to the right and bugged out. Well now, he thought, this should be interesting.