He's the Punisher
"Bang." Frank says.
He doesn't seem to know that if Frank decides to, he's dead. That devil, that damned Hell's Kitchen devil, he should have kept on messing around with his little horns. It's a matter of millimeters, a matter of precision, a short moment consisting of a few poor seconds and the bullet, instead of lodging deep in the skull, craftily cracks the mask. He will probably consider himself lucky, not knowing that being lucky with Frank Castle means being spared by him.
This is the outcome of the first meeting and confrontation between a demon and a mad dog. Daredevil on the ground, letting this new threat escape, having prevented him from reaching his target.
This is how the story of the Punisher begins. At least, that's how things start for Matt Murdock, Frank was alone, that night.
Matt is sick, Foggy said. Karen doesn't believe a word of it but finds herself nodding in a frown. The day starts hard, with a concerned visit with the client she saved the day before. The man, Grotto, owes the young woman a debt of gratitude for helping him escape the merciless hospital killer, yet he doesn't look at her as such. Perhaps fear has taken up too much space to leave any room for gratitude. Karen is good at appearing calm, but all she wants is for her, Matt and Foggy to be happily playing pool at Josie's Bar. There's no such thing as rest when you work for Nelson and Murdock, let alone when you're as stubborn as she is, but that doesn't mean she doesn't mind a little distraction. They'll protect Grotto from certain death, because that's what they do, they allow second chances.
Fortunately, Grotto isn't their only client today, another appointment is on the agenda. To be fair, it's not exactly a client, it's a man they'd appreciate working out a deal with. It's pretty obvious that he's the least of their concerns, but he'll be welcomed with dignity.
Karen and Foggy wait for the man in their little office, it's funny how sometimes they just pretend. Pretend that death is not following them, that anguish has not overtaken them and that all is well with Matt. Fortunately, there are always a few knocks against the wood of a door to draw Karen's attention to something other than her primary concerns.
She opens the door, revealing a man in a midnight blue suit accompanied by a white shirt, his hands carefully positioned in front of him, his back straight, his hair slicked back, his beard perfectly trimmed, a gentlemanly look. He smiles immediately, a measured smile, revealing a few white teeth, wide enough to arouse sympathy, not so wide as to not look natural. Karen returns him a nice smile, even if hers is less worked.
Nelson appears immediately behind her before any words have time to be uttered.
"Mr. Russo, nice to meet you." Foggy says in a friendly tone, extending a warm hand.
"Mr. Nelson." Billy responds by accepting the offer with a handshake. Billy turns to Karen, shaking her hand in the same manner. "Either you're Ms. Murdock, or they forgot to add your name to Nelson and Murdock and for that, you should probably consider taking them to court."
"Karen Page." Karen announces as she shakes the man's hand with a genuine smile. "Maybe I should consider it, now that you mention it."
"Come in Mr. Russo, would you like something to drink? Coffee, perhaps?"
"I'm fine, thank you."
Foggy smiles at Billy, ushering him into the office to sit down. Billy complies politely, standing tall with his hands placed on the armrest.
"Let's do a little recap, if you don't mind." Foggy begins. "Have you hired a lawyer?"
"No, I stand by my positions. I don't think it's necessary to be so formal. I'm sure we can work out an arrangement that suits us both and Mr. Jones, too, of course."
"Of course. Mr. Jones wished to bring suit against your company, Anvil, and thereby against you. He has engaged your services to integrate your protection system, is that correct?"
"That's correct. He felt threatened, he said he was being followed and stalked, so we stationed men to provide security for him and to monitor the area. The point is, it was a waste of time and money."
"So you terminated the contract."
"I did, indeed, refuse to invest any more of my time in a job that wasn't one."
"Only, before the official termination date, Mr. Jones was the victim of an assault."
Billy smiles charmingly.
"His wallet was stolen from him on the street, what we call a snatch-and-grab. Mr. Jones wasn't even hit or injured. The term assault seems wrong to me."
Foggy smiles too, nodding.
"The point is, you stopped protecting him before the contract ended."
Billy remains calm, though annoyance at this situation pervades his entire body.
"What is he asking for?"
"Financial compensation."
Billy closes his eyes for a quarter of a second, inhaling as he licks his lips gently before resting his elbows on the desk.
"Mr. Nelson. You and I both took on this client for a specific reason. It's not like our respective businesses are blooming, is it? Mr. Jones is paranoid, self-centered and opportunistic. His complaint is unfounded. It is stipulated in the contract, and I'm sure you have read it, that we had to protect him from a stalker who would, and I quote him, rip his heart out and drink his blood. Protecting him from a robbery was not part of my job. Look, let's be honest, this is borderline ridiculous, you know if we sue, I'll win. But it would tarnish both my image and yours. Do us a favor and tell Mr. Jones to stop watching horror movies at night. If he's so inclined, I'm willing to commit to loaning him my favorite book and giving him some references."
Foggy laughs with a nasal gasp at that. He nods again, standing up.
"Karen, would you mind complete the paperwork for Mr. Russo." He says to the young blonde woman then turns to Billy, "I'll see what I can do. Rest assured, this matter will be resolved quickly."
Billy smiles at him again, his plastic smile as Foggy gets up, he walks over to a small radio and mechanically turns it on before leaving the room. Karen can assume the man's annoyance although she has to admit, he is very good at hiding it. She takes Nelson's place, pulling out a sheet of paper and a pen.
"Nothing to worry about, it’s only paperwork, some formalities, nothing important." The young woman affirms. "Could I have your full name."
"Russo, William." Billy replies quietly, paying attention to the sound of the radio reaching his ears. He frowns, focusing on the voice coming out, ignoring Karen's next question. He doesn't hear her either when she repeats, until her voice reaches his concentration.
"Mr. Russo?"
Billy turns his head to Karen, smiling warmly at her.
"Would it be possible to have a cup of coffee, Ms. Page? I'd be very grateful."
"Sure." She says with a frown. She gets up, walking out of the office in turn. Billy watches her do so, rising as soon as he disappears from her sight. He walks over to the small radio, turning the volume knob to increase it slightly. A few unpleasant crackles sound before a man's monotonous voice echoes again.
"That man, who showed great violence yesterday at the hospital is still actively sought, isn't he?"
"Of course, the police are on the alert, this terrorist will be arrested, be sure."
"A reliable source told us that he's nicknamed the Punisher."
"Yes, that's a nickname some people have for him."
"The Punisher is a chilling name, should all our citizens be afraid of that Punisher?"
Billy is so focused that he doesn't hear Karen coming closer.
"Mr. Russo? Your coffee."
Billy subtly flinches at his name, turning to Karen in a raised eyebrow. The natural astonishment accompanied by the look of a child having been caught doing something stupid on his face disappears as quickly as it appeared, being replaced by another charming smile.
"Thank you."
Karen smiles, returning to her seat as he does the same.
"They're always quicker to come up with a name than they are to arrest them."
Billy raises his eyebrows, smiling.
"That's true, you'd think they'd have fun with it."
Karen laughs, taking the pen back. Billy frowns at the sight of a closed document with the name Grotto written on it in his hand quickly. "Grotto...isn't that the guy the man in the hospital wanted to kill?"
Karen raises an eyebrow, surprised.
"Uh... yes, yes, that's him."
"Oh..." Billy straightens up. "You took him on as a client."
"Yeah." Karen nods quickly, wanting to get back to the business at hand. "Place of birth?"
"If you don't mind me asking, how do you go about it? I mean, how do you plan to stop a Marine from finishing the job?"
"A Marine? You mean the Punisher? How do you know he's a Marine?"
Billy raises his eyebrows before smiling gently.
"Mere speculation. A man who misses so rarely, who has such a track record, excuse me, but that sounds a lot like a man trained by our beloved army."
"Did you serve?"
"Is that one of the questions on your form?"
"Uh..." Karen looks down at the sheet. "No..." She says, looking up.
Billy lifts his chin, taking on a natural overbearing look.
"Albany."
"Excuse me?"
"I was born in Albany, New York."
Karen nods, writing it down as Foggy interrupts them, entering the room with a wide, gentle smile.
"It's all arranged, Mr. Russo. He's not pressing charges, if you agree to apologize."
Billy raises an eyebrow, looking at the phone in his hand.
"Apologize?"
Foggy shrugs apologetically, seeming to take Billy's side.
"You can cross your fingers." He whispers.
Billy stands up, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Where are we? Preschool?" He says as he picks up the phone. He takes a deep breath. "Russo speaking... " He says as he runs his index finger over his bottom lip while Foggy and Karen have their gaze fixed on the man in the suit, one hand in his pocket, nodding his head with onomatopoeia. "Very well. I apologize for the terrible aggression you've suffered. I'm aware of the enormous torment in which you find yourself and for that I must wish you much courage. Is this okay? Fine. Good luck, Mr. Jones. And I have to tell you, watch out for the camera in your bathroom and the man in black." He concludes, hanging up immediately.
"What camera? What man?" Foggy asks in a worried voice as he picks up the phone.
Billy raises his eyebrows, shrugging, the corners of his mouth dropping down.
"There's no such things, is there?" Karen asks with a half smile. Billy smiles at her.
"Well, it's not what he thinks."
"It was a low blow..."
"I couldn't resist." Billy holds out a hand. "I think we've settled our problem. Haven't we?"
Billy shakes hands with Foggy and Karen, walking out as dignified and proudly as he entered. Karen and Foggy turn to each other, smiling at each other before returning to their more important case.
Karen hurries toward that path she knows so well, toward that door that is always reassuring to her before ringing the bell. A few seconds later, a young woman appears, her face lit up with a wide, infectious smile, she takes Karen in her arms for a few seconds before letting her in.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, thank you, Ana, and you?"
"Me too." She affirms, indicating the couch to her. "I know you're in a hurry so I'll make this quick." Ana affirms, taking the documents on the table in her hands. "I shouldn't be doing this so don't tell anyone. I know my job at the hospital gives me access to a lot of things but Matt, Foggy and you know that as much as I adore you, I can't always help you, right?"
"Sure, Ana. It's already great what you do."
The two young women smile at each other.
"Matt is like my brother... and after you risked your life yesterday, I can't stand by and do nothing. So here goes..." Ana hands her a first stack of documents. "These are all the medical reports of the Punisher's victims and these..." She continues, handing her an x-ray. "This is an x-ray of Frank Castle. A bullet in the skull, Karen, is no small thing. He should be dead."
Karen looks at the object with a frown.
"But he's not."
"There are rumors in the hallways. But what happened is... is that he was alone... no family at his bedside, no one... he was pronounced clinically dead there and suddenly... he woke up... he grabbed the nurse who was taking care of him and... it seems he ordered him to take him home."
"Home?"
Ana nods, sadly.
"I did some research but I couldn't find anything on Frank, not medically. I don't know why he was brought to the hospital but...I did more research and on the same day, three other Castles died. Maria, Lisa and Frank Jr...his wife and two children."
Karen looks at Ana, sadness and horror quickly overtaking her.
"What happened?"
"I don't know. On this one, it's up to you. Maybe you could look at some articles the week they died... look for information. But it's very strange, Karen. It's strange that we don't know anything about how he was injured, it seems... it seems like no one should find out. Anyway, Frank Castle lost his whole family on the same day, in a... brutal way... and he, he should have died too, but he survived." Karen familiarly feels her heart clench in her chest. This is not something anyone should have to go through, even a man as violent and dangerous as Castle. Ana hands her a small piece of paper with an address scrawled on it. "I'm asking you to be very careful, Karen, okay? I'm worried enough that I don't want you to add to it."
"Don't worry. I promise I'm being careful."
Ana nods her head, although she knows very well that these kinds of sentences have very little value. She learned this from Matt. She's known him since they were kids and every time he's smiled at her and said he'd look out for him, he's lied. But it's like that and even though she can't help but ask him to, she accepts Matt as he is.
"There's one more thing. I don't really know if this is related but I found a report of a man who was admitted to the hospital the same day. He had a gunshot wound in his back and leg. His wounds were the same as Frank's, I mean, the same bullets in Frank's head... it says he was found unconscious, alone on a street. He also took a blow to the head and..."
Karen cuts her off, obsessing over the files already in her hands.
"Does this have anything to do with the Punisher?"
"I'm not sure to tell you the truth... probably not but..."
"Everything you've given me is a lot already, I'll look into it."
"Yes, of course. It's just that, it seemed strange to me, there's something wrong with this other man." Ana continues, wanting to defend her story but Karen is not listening anymore, she is on her feet, heading for the door.
"Thank you so much, Ana, so much."
"It's okay."
They embrace and Karen disappears immediately. Ana closes the door, her eyes resting on the document she didn't take.
Frank repeats the steps for cleaning a firearm over and over in his head, as young soldiers learn early, as he goes through them. It helps him not to think, it helps him to block out the bad ideas, the bad voices, those that root to reality. What good is that when reality no longer makes sense?
He suddenly looks up at the door handle, which rattles. He clutches a knife right next to him, his fingers tightening on the handle as his heart beats slowly in a pleasantly existing way. Suddenly, the handle stops moving and two clean taps are made against the wood. Frank raises an eyebrow, clutching the knife, though he recognizes the sign.
"Blackbird?" He asks, cautiously.
"Yeah... the one and only." The man responds before opening the door, slipping into the room. Immediately, the dog Frank saved barks, tugging at his chain. "Lovely welcome." Billy comments as he takes some treats from a bag and gives them to him, petting its head. "I get the feeling you like this mutt better than me, am I wrong?"
Frank smiles as he leans back into his activity.
"Don't ask a question you know will be answered disappointingly."
"Ouch." Billy moves closer, setting a cardboard bag he holds in his hand on Frank's table. He watches for a moment as his friend's hands clean a gun. "I took two sandwiches." Billy states softly pulling a foil wrapped sandwich out of the bag. Frank looks up as he retrieves what he is given. He opens it, smiling at the ingredients he prefers in a sandwich. This is exactly what he needed. He smiles genuinely, though his smile doesn't have the same sparkle and sweetness it used to.
"Thanks, Bill..." This time Frank looks at him, dropping his activity to focus on his visitor. "Some things don't change, Billy The beaut, huh ? Did you pull out the suit?"
Billy sighs heavily as he sits in a chair next to Frank's desk, tugging on his tie to loosen it, placing an ankle on his other knee, before turning his attention to his meal.
"A client wanted to file a complaint against Anvil, can you believe that?"
"Why?"
"Bullshit. It's handled. I had to apologize by phone, it's fucking crazy. But I'm not un-proud of my repartee."
"Let me guess, Mr. Jones?"
Billy raises his eyebrows, surprised that he remembers. Although, after all, he is the only client he's had in the last weeks, so it's the only person he's mentioned. Frank is unaware that Anvil is now nothing more than a sunken wreck in deep, dark waters. And Billy doesn't plan to tell him, for two specific reasons: he has too much pride to admit it, and Frank has enough misery not to add to it.
Billy nods, biting into his meal.
"They gave you a name, did you hear?" He tries to say, his mouth full.
"A name?"
"The Punisher. Like you're the big bad wolf from a kid's cartoon." Frank frowns, emitting a slight grumble while tearing off a piece of his sandwich. Billy lifts his head, resting his on his thigh. He examines his best friend eating hungrily. "You didn't get an Irishman, did you?"
"A guy got away from me. Not for long."
"Picking on him in a hospital, Frank? What was the plan? You weren't careful enough."
"It was never about being careful."
"All right. Then, let's do this one together."
"No way. You and I are done."
"You could take more care in dumping me, Frankie."
Frank lets out a chuckle, shaking his head.
"There was never any question of you throwing your life away. I remind you that you have a business, Bill, now, right? You've got better things to do than...do what I do."
"Is that concern I read on your face, Frankie? You're so hung up on me."
Frank laughs despite himself. Billy has always been good at making him laugh or putting a smile on his face, he always tries anyway, it's annoying but most of the time it's really the best thing, especially right now. Frank regains a serious look, taking his gun back into his hand.
"Bill... I'm serious. This is... something I do... but, I promise to call you if I have a problem or need help." The truth is, Billy was there a very few times, they've done it together already, because it's natural, because it's something they do as they breathe, because despite everything, it feels good to feel sensations they used to feel. But Frank cares about his friend, and just because he's flipped out doesn't mean he has to follow him. "The police are getting involved now, you're not going to jail. Please, brother."
Billy looks into Frank's eyes, feeling something he can't describe. Why does he feel so guilty? Yes, there's that part of him that lives for blood and adrenaline that wants to follow Frank, but it's not just that. Since the tragedy, he feels like he has to redeem himself. Why? Is it something to do with the memory loss he suffers? He knows there are things he has forgotten, yet he doesn't know how or why. He hasn't told Frank about this either. How can he complain about having a few memory lapses when faced with a man who has seen his entire family unjustly murdered before his eyes?
"Okay." He says as he stood up. "You know you can count on me, right? I'm here, I know you, I got your back."
Frank nods confidently as Billy leans over to pet the dog's head before leaving.
"Does it have a name? If it's taking over for me, I'd like to know who I should be jealous of."
Frank smiles, straightening up slightly.
"Nah, he doesn't have a name. Not that I know of."
"What a shame. What would we call you, huh? How about... Bully?"
"Bully? Really?"
"Well, first of all, it's my name by one letter, since you're slow, it would be easier for you. Secondly, it's a Pit Bull, isn't it? And thirdly, excuse me, but he's got the face of a bully, have you seen how he attacks anyone who enters the room?"
"That's not very flattering, is it? Not sure I like."
"Except it wasn't you I was asking the opinion of, man. You deal with it, you have no choice." Frank shakes his head as he watches Billy straighten up and open the door. He holds up two fingers in the air without looking back, without looking at them. "See ya Frankie, see ya Bully..."
"Take care, Bill..."
If there's one thing Frank is still grateful for, even if he won't say it, it's that Billy went out of his way to find him. After the massacre, after the tragedy... He and Billy never talk about it, it's not a subject they discuss, but when Frank suddenly woke up from the dead and ran away from the hospital, Billy knew and he was there. He told him that he had paid the nurse who brought him home to keep him informed of his condition. That's all they told each other about it. Not a word about Frank's family, not a word about what happened.
Ana wipes her eyes, not really having the courage to continue working this late anymore. She closes her laptop before falling back in her chair and closing her eyes for a few seconds. Then, suddenly, she opens them again, turning to a file that hasn't moved from her coffee table in her living room. She frowns before standing up, wrapping herself in a folded plaid on her couch and sitting down on the floor, picking up the file she puts on the floor. She opens it, scattering a few sheets. There are x-rays, reports and forms. The patient was shot in the right thigh, the bullet still lodged there when he arrived at the hospital. He also had another gunshot wound in the back, but this one went through him horizontally, there is a first impact point under the scapula and a second one a few centimeters further, where the bullet came out. The last injury recorded is violent blow to the head, of unknown cause.
Ana turns over a sheet of paper, reading a handwritten report. The patient was found on a street corner, totally alone and isolated, and was unconscious when the paramedics arrived. The first hypothesis is a settlement of account or an assault gone wrong. It was the same day Frank Castle was brought to the hospital, the same day his family disappeared, just hours apart. When the patient woke up, he appeared to be suffering from amnesia. It is written that the patient woke up thinking he had been injured in the war. He called himself a soldier and the last vivid memory he had in his mind was of a deployment, when he was with other men in a tent. Although he had partial amnesia, it would appear that he had not forgotten more than a few weeks, months at the most. It seems that he is able to remember events well between two memory lapses.
No connection between this man and the Punisher has been made. Yet the man's injuries are singular for Ana. The gunshot wounds are clumsy, as if the bullet hit something it wasn't meant to. As if the bullets were flying into a place and two of them had ended up on this man. She feels that there is something strange about this case as well and yet, she can't explain it. Looking only at the wounds, she would have said without a doubt that he was shot from a distance, while he was moving, probably even running, that doesn't fit with the hypothesis of a settlement of account or an assault. But nothing fits in this story, not Castle's wounds, not this man's, not the few informations she can have.
Maybe she's wrong, maybe it's not connected. It's that something else struck her as she read the file. The man served in the army, he was a soldier. The Punisher has to be a soldier too, how could he not be? Perhaps, again, it's just a coincidence, after all, two soldiers can be injured in the same day without it being any relation.
Ana yawns, feeling the fatigue getting to her. She decides to close the file and put the sheets away. She stands up, putting it on her desk. Ponderously, her finger passes over the name of the patient in question: Billy Russo.