first name basis
Dinah Madani has literally no time for Frank Castle’s bullshit.
That stupid message he sent back with James? Bullshit. Her new gig at the CIA is going great, no thanks to him.
“Madani, I’m serious. What is he talking about?”
She doesn’t feel like explaining this to James. First of all, it’s not his business. Second of all — actually, nope. Nothing else matters. It’s really just not his business. She’s sitting in the bathtub with a morning mimosa, sighing as James waits on the other end of the line. “Listen, it’s not that big of a deal. Talk to me about Morrison, did you get any new leads?”
She can practically hear James shaking his head on the other end. “Dinah, you’re not gonna explain to me how a CIA agent is on a first name basis with The Punisher?”
“James,” she finally snaps, “we’ve helped each other out before, okay? I needed him and he needed the help of someone who wasn’t trying to kill him, so we did what we had to do.” It’s vague and the tone of her voice reveals that she’s not going into any more detail. So if that doesn’t work for James, he’s out of luck. “I need you to tell me about Morrison.”
There’s silence, like James is trying to decide whether or not to accept Dinah’s bullshit explanation, but then he sighs. “Dead end.”
“Someone has to know something.”
“Yeah, someone does know something.” She was afraid he’d say that. “Maybe you should talk to him.”
Dinah shakes her head, lifting bubbles from the bath and sliding them over her skin. “I asked Frank if he wanted the job, he said no. I put you on this and I need something to show for it.”
“Dinah,” James says, bass in his voice that actually commands her attention, “he was there for the same thing I was. He knows something about Barracuda, okay? The only way we can get to him is with Frank’s help.” He’s right. She sinks down into the bathwater, her hair floating along the surface. “You’re the only one who can get in touch with him. If you want to get your shit finished, you know what you need to do.”
Then he hangs up.
Dinah’s only mad for a second — the kid’s got heart. They’re too much alike for her to be too irritated with him. But the last thing she wants to do is get wrapped up with Frank Castle again. Both times, it’s gone up in smoke and left a goddamn mess for her to clean up.
Even so, he always gets the job done . . . Fuck.
Some people would try to call Frank nocturnal, but that’s not true. See, to be nocturnal, you have to actually sleep during the day. And Frank hardly ever sleeps. For example, he spent his day following up on another lead toward this Barracuda guy. Then he made himself some roasted vegetables for lunch (breakfast? Dinner? Fuck it. He ate roasted vegetables) and took about 30 minutes to rest his eyes before heading out for the night.
His hood is up as he walks up the street, his eyes surveying the area around him. This road is one he hasn’t been down much since he’s come into town, so he’s a little more cautious than usual. Is that even a valid statement? Frank’s always cautious. It’s not something he can afford to turn off. He’s walking down the street when he hears a payphone ring. The sound alarms him for a moment - when’s the last time he heard one of those things? He brushes it off, walking past it. The phone shuts off shortly after, which Frank is grateful for. Not thirty seconds later, another payphone is ringing as he approaches it.
That’s not an accident, is it?
Frank tests the theory, turning around and moving toward the other phone. True to his assumption, it rings again. He quickens his pace, grunting as he picks up the phone with haste. He doesn’t speak, just holds it up to his ear and waits for trouble to speak on the other end.
“What the hell are you doing in Baltimore?” The voice makes him smile, tip his head back and adjust his hulking body against the bulky telephone. That’s trouble, alright.
“You get my message?”
Madani snorts, and Frank can practically see her scrunched up nose as she replies. “I asked you a question, Frank.” She doesn’t waste any time getting to her reason for ringing him so goddamn cryptically. “Why are you looking for Barracuda?”
Frank shrugs, shifting his weight between his feet. “That’s what I do.” He doesn’t elaborate — why would he? Madani’s over here asking dumb ass questions, calling him like this an episode of Sherlock. She’s gonna have to do more than that with him and she knows it.
“I already have a guy on it,” she says (like he doesn’t already know). “So you’re either gonna work with him, or be on the first flight out of town.”
Frank’s stunned into silence for a moment — he always forgets that Madani is one of the few people he interacts with who isn’t afraid, and that always takes some getting used to. But beyond that, what the fuck? No, really, what the fuck?? “Why would I —” Frank pauses, huffs out a laugh, “you think I’m doin’ that, Madani?”
“Just scratch my back, Frank,” the woman sighs on the other end. She sounds like she’s walking — of course she can’t really have this conversation at her desk, can she. “I guarantee you’re going to need me at some point during all this. And if you follow through, I’ll pick up the phone next time you call.”
Frank sighs — this isn’t what he wants. It’s not how he operates. There’s a reason he said no to this CIA bullshit in the beginning. Frank isn’t a goddamn gun for hire. He did that already in the Marines, and it made him do some of the most evil things he’s ever done in his life. He doesn’t give a shit if it’s Madani or the goddamn Pope. This isn’t his vibe. But he’s not gonna walk away from this. He finishes the shit he starts, period. Frank runs a hand over his face. “Alright, fine. How am I supposed to get in touch with your boy again?” He’s not halfway through his sentence when the phone clicks and goes silent, leaving Frank to groan, slamming the phone back against the box.
“Sounds like we’re a team now,” says a voice from behind the veteran. He doesn’t have to turn around to know that it’s Bucky, probably with that dumbass smile, leaning against a building like some kind of lame ass Bond villain. “Well, let’s do this, partner. We’ve got some catching up to do.”