New York
It was supposed to be a simple job. His first major bust. But nothing ever is. The young man sighed and looked at his partner. His teammate was silent, blue eyes searching for any forms of activity. His black hair and body armor allowed him to be practically invisible in the night.
"Remember, Frank, try to take him alive," David Kore said. Frank just nodded and checked his Marui H & K MP5. David watched as Frank casually slapped a cartridge in and readied the weapon. The young NYPD rookie had always managed to impress him in training.
Course, considering his family has a big cop history, it's no surprise.
David was, in this mission, Frank's superior. But he was also one of Frank's closest friends. David Kore was 23, with brown hair and green eyes. He had joined the NYPD a year before Frank had. Frank Castle, on the other hand…
Frank was new on the force. But he'd risen in the ranks quickly. He's started out as a no-name rookie, and most people thought him to be a glory hound. But nothing could be further from the truth.
Frank didn't care for glory. He'd entered not because he wanted to continue the police legacy his family had started, but because he truly wanted to make life safe for others. And he did a very good job of it.
"All right, snatch and grab, everyone," David spoke into his mike. "Let's make this quick. GO!"
David rushed and kicked the door in, rifle ready. He spotted two of them directly in front of him. They aimed their guns at him, and David quickly jumped behind the door, hearing the rounds impacting on the wood. Frank rushed past him, oblivious.
"Frank, what the hell are you doing?!" He yelled, but there was no answer. Just more gunfire. Then nothing.
"Clear."
Frank's voice was calm, composed. David peered in, amazed. The two gunmen lay on the floor, bullet holes in their chests. Frank was crouching on the floor, swapping a new cartridge casually, as if there was no threat.
"You don't waste any time, do you?" David asked rhetorically.
"No," Frank replied, getting up. "You okay?"
"I should be asking you that," David said, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder.
Frank just shrugged the arm off and walked to the next room cautiously. David stayed five feet behind him. Frank continued on, as if in a trance. David had seen this a few times before. Frank could seem so focused some times, as if the only thing he cared was the objective. But nothing slipped past him.
Gunfire was suddenly heard behind them. He and Frank instantly turned around, guns raised.
"Maybe it's over," David said.
"No, those weren't our guns," Frank said, taking charge.
"How do you know?" David asked, checking his magazine.
"I know what MP5's and Beretta's sound like."
With that, Frank slipped ahead, hugging the wall.
David followed him, grimacing.
The two rushed in, the backs of unsuspecting criminals facing them. And Frank Castle had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He opened fire, the closest one immediately falling face first to the floor. The others turned around, shouting at the top of their lungs. The two cops stepped behind crates, Frank dropping his weapon and calmly walking around. He pulled out a tactical knife, twirling the blade expertly.
David dropped his rifle and went for the Beretta, trying to warn Frank of the amount of gunmen waiting. But no sound came out.
Frank saw them in front of him, saw their obvious snickers. They must have figured four guns beat one knife. Unfortunately for them, they were underestimating Frank Castiglione.
He jumped in among them and his knife flashed quickly, cutting into the arms of the man in front of him. The thug cried out in pain, dropping his gun. Frank's second natural skill kicked in as they encircled him.
Jeet Kune Do. It was Frank's specialty. When he was a boy, Bruce Lee had been one of his many idols. And when he learned of the martial art of flowing attacks and free movement, he started training.
They attacked suddenly and without warning. But Frank was ready. He responded with simple, but devastating moves. Kick to the ribs, punch to the jaw, elbow to the chest. Efficiency, directness, simplicity. Those were the three parts of Jeet Kune Do, and Frank flawlessly utilized them.
David watched with a mix of amazement and fear as the young Castle immobilized the men. Castle just shrugged and twirled the blade slowly a few times before sheathing it.
"We need to get moving, Frank," he said, hoping silently everything went as planned. Frank nodded, a gun in his right hand now. Frank's reply was silent. He simply surged forward, as if possessed.
"Shit," David muttered. He didn't want Frank to get too far ahead.
Frank spoke into his microphone softly. David only heard it because he was listening in.
"Move in."
"Frank, NO!"
Too late. Frank Castle kicked the door in and barged right in, bullets slamming into the walls behind him and the furniture surrounding him. David ducked behind a table, shooting in the enemy's general direction. Frank just ran past the shooters, ignoring their curses and surprised cries.
David heard the mike crackle, and he thought for sure Frank was dead.
"Got him."
That voice again. David grinned, though he truly felt rotten. He yelled at the top of his voice.
"MOVE IN!"
Immediately, the noise level rose, as FBI and NYPD agents rushed in firing. Inside the main room, Frank Castle was shooting anyone that pulled a gun out with deadly precision. But he didn't kill them. His Beretta was only good for 15 shots, after all. David and the others rushed in, finishing off what remained in a very orderly fashion.
"CLEAR!"
"Clear!"
All the others reported in. David sighed and looked at Frank. And whom he was sitting on. Antony Pavla was tied at the ankles and wrists, struggling. Frank grinned.
"What?"