[Midnight] [Hudson Valley Bridge]
It was raining hard.
Ma Gnucci sat in the back of the third SUV, her broken body strapped into a reinforced seat. A thin oxygen line hissed faintly against her mutilated face. The only sound inside was her raspy breath and the occasional wheeze of her prosthetic limbs when she shifted. Seven black SUVs surrounded her in a protective bubble. After the last attack, she increased her security.
The driver spoke over the comm. "Approaching the bridge now. Stay sharp."
Then the first sound came. A faint pop. Another. Then a stuttering series, like knuckles cracking in the dark. The cars lurched, jerking hard. Rubber hissed and tore. One by one the SUVs buckled as all four tires flattened in unison, sparks flying as rims scraped against the wet pavement. The convoy came to a halt before they could cross the narrow bridge.
"What the...?!" Ma Guncci looked scared.
"What the hell was that?" one of the guards shouted, already pulling a handgun.
The drivers climbed out, rain soaking their jackets instantly. Their boots crunched on something sharp. They froze. Spikes—hundreds of them—had been scattered across the road. Someone had laid the trap. And it was raining so that no one noticed.
At the center of the bridge, parked sideways like a barricade, sat a white minivan. Its paint was matte, not reflecting the headlights, its windows tinted pitch black.
Inside Ma Gnucci's SUV, her voice cracked with irritation. "Report. What's happening?"
One of the bodyguards leaned down to her window. "Road's blocked, boss. Spikes everywhere. A van's in the middle. We'll clear it."
He never got the chance.
The side panel of the minivan split apart with a hydraulic hiss. Metal folded back, revealing a hidden mechanism. A thick muzzle extended outward, rotating into position with an audible click. For half a heartbeat, the convoy stood frozen in disbelief. Then the muzzle flashed.
A hailstorm of bullets ripped into the night. The roar of the minigun drowned out the rain, its barrels spinning so fast they blurred into one glowing circle. Sparks exploded off SUV armor. Windshields shattered. Doors caved inward. Men screamed as the rounds punched through, shredding flesh and steel alike.
The night turned into chaos in a single second.
Guards dove for cover, but there was nowhere safe. The bridge became a cage, bullets ricocheting off wet asphalt. The lead SUV took the brunt of it, the front end collapsing under the torrent. Glass sprayed across the road.
Inside her reinforced vehicle, Ma Gnucci screamed. "Get me down! Get me down!" Her guards pushed her to the floor, covering her with their bodies as the reinforced plating shook under the relentless impact. Even that heavy armor wasn't immune. Rounds tore holes through the sides, sparks dancing inside. The windshield cracked like a spider web.
The shooting did not stop. Five minutes of nonstop fire turned the bridge into a slaughterhouse. Men tried to fire back, but it was useless. They simply got splattered and shredded apart.
The SUVs were shredded husks by the time the barrels finally wound down, smoke hissing from the metal.
The silence that followed was worse than the noise. Rain pattered on twisted steel, on the bodies sprawled across the asphalt, on the punctured remains of luxury vehicles. The convoy was no more. Only Ma Gnucci's SUV was somewhat intact, though its armor was warped, riddled with dents, and smoking holes.
Her breath rattled. She whispered hoarsely, "Is it over?"
It wasn't.
The van's door opened with a groan. A figure stepped out.
Frank Castle.
He was wearing a black high-tech armor with the signature skull emblem on his chest, and the skull was glowing in the darkness. Rain slid down the thin energy field covering his body. He was walking toward them like he was simply taking a stroll in the park... with a grenade launcher, of course. Oh, and a heavy rifle.
Guards who had survived stumbled to their feet. They fired wildly, handguns barking in desperation. Frank walked through it. Bullets sparked and fizzled against the energy shield that covered him, every hit absorbed like rain against glass. He didn't flinch.
One guard lunged from behind an SUV with a shotgun. Castle fired once. The grenade hit the SUV, detonating in a thunderous blast. Shrapnel and fire swallowed the man instantly. The concussion shook the bridge.
Another guard charged, screaming, firing an Uzi until the magazine clicked empty. Castle stepped forward, raised his launcher, and fired point-blank. The man vanished in a cloud of fire and steel.
Inside her SUV, Ma Gnucci shrieked. "Shoot him! Shoot him now!"
But her men were breaking. Those still alive were limping, bleeding, scrambling to reload under the storm. Castle advanced like an executioner. With every step, someone died. He switched from the launcher to a heavy rifle slung across his back, laying down precise bursts. Heads snapped back. Chests caved in. He never missed.
Two of her guards tried to flank him. Castle spun, dropped one with a burst to the torso, blasting off his guts, and then slammed the butt of his rifle into the other's face before firing a couple of rounds into his skull. The head was splattered and gone in the blink of an eye. The headless body collapsed at his feet.
Ma Gnucci clawed at her guards. "Get me out of here! Move this car!"
The driver threw the SUV into reverse, tires grinding sparks against the spikes. The engine roared but the vehicle barely moved, crippled by the destroyed tires. The reinforced plating groaned as it dragged against the road.
Castle fired another grenade. It hit the rear SUV, flipping the vehicle into the air before crashing down in a ball of fire.
Smoke choked the air. Rain hissed as it hit the burning wrecks.
She curled on the floor, prosthetic limbs twitching, her face twisted in rage and terror.
Castle approached, rifle low.
Her last surviving guard burst from the car, screaming, and unloaded an entire magazine toward him. The bullets splattered against the shield. Castle raised his rifle, aimed once, and ended him with a single shot.
Now there was no one left.
Castle stopped before Ma Gnucci's SUV. He raised the grenade launcher again, the barrel glowing faintly. He fired.
The shell hit the windshield dead center.
Boom! With the explosion, the reinforced glass bulged inward, cracked, and finally gave way. Smoke and fire swallowed the inside of the car.
"GAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" She screamed in pain.
When the smoke cleared, Castle stepped closer. Through the shattered wreck, Ma Gnucci's ruined figure writhed. Her prosthetics sparked, useless. She dragged herself an inch toward him, her teeth bared in animal fury.
Even after all that, that bitch was still alive.
"You think you've won?" she hissed. "You can't kill me, Castle. I'll crawl back, I'll—"
He leveled his rifle at her face. His voice was a flat growl.
"One batch, two batch, penny and dime."
The shot rang out.
The bridge went silent.
Castle stood over the carnage, rain hissing against his armor, smoke curling around him. He scanned the wreckage, then holstered his weapon. Without a word, he turned back toward the minivan. Its engine roared to life, and within seconds, the Punisher vanished into the night, leaving nothing but burning steel and broken corpses behind.
...
[On his way to the next target]
Frank pulled out a disposable phone and hit speed dial. The line clicked once.
Emma's voice slid into his ear, smooth but sharp. "You're finished?"
Frank's voice was gravelly. "Gnucci's gone. Won't be crawling back this time."
There was a pause, then a faint hum of approval. "Good. That removes one cancer. But another tumor just lit up my map."
"Who?"
"I guess it's time to fulfill my promise to you. The Owl. Leland Owlsley. He's dug himself into Midtown. He's hiding behind money, muscle… and mutants who aren't street trash. They are at least Alpha-level. Not children with fireworks. The kind of power that can snap your spine or melt your brain if you blink wrong."
Frank's grip tightened on the wheel. "Doesn't matter."
Emma's tone sharpened. "It does matter. You can't walk into this one with a rifle and a scowl. You'll need more than grit. Come back to the club. Tony's waiting. He's put together something for you. A new suit. Better than the prototype you are wearing. And he insists on a word before you go hunting."
Frank replied after a beat. "I'm on my way."
...[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS]...
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