THE PUNISHER : HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

The characters belong to Marvel and Disney. No money will be made from this. Reviews would be appreciated.

Dec 24th

Brooklyn

Night Time

Another night.

Another shoot out in a deserted warehouse in Brooklyn.

Another trap set for the Punisher.

There was supposed to be a special meeting of sorts between various New York crime bosses. A summit of sorts.

As it was often the case, these summits turned into ambushes set up for the Punisher. It was almost to be expected whenever Castle followed such a lead.

Whoever set this trap was serious. They had sent endless manpower.

There were already four burning metal hulks in the warehouse before Castle fired his last 40mm projectile at an upcoming van. The skull bearing vigilante aimed carefully from behind a steel beam and fired. The vehicle's engine exploded and screeched to a halt. A secondary blast engulfed it in flames.

That was it. No more 40 mil grenades. No more ammunition of the M4. He dropped it and grabbed the USAS-12 automatic shotgun loaded with 20 rounds. A mix of solid slugs and shredder rounds.

More heavily armed and armored figures came at him on foot. He was getting surrounded.

He took two down on his right. Fired at their legs and gave them headshots as they went down.

Soon, his shotgun drum was empty and he'd taken down four more of the enemy. Some of their bullets found him. Some found Kevlar. Some found flesh. He pulled two fully automatic Glock 18s with 32 rounds magazines.

It was a matter of time before these assholes filled their contract.

This moment was long overdue. Since that sunny day in Central Park where he died along with his family.

All right, then.

He stood and raised his pistols. As a fifteen members of the hit squad closed in on him

An apocalyptic sounding crash resounded in the warehouse. A garbage truck barreled in. It was headed straight for them. Castle and the mercs. All heads turned towards the large, noisy intrusion.

The Punisher made his move. He fired short bursts in six men's kneecaps, thighs, groins. They collapsed in agony, bleeding out. Three of the others were run over by the garbage truck. Kevlar was no help at all.

A large muzzle flash and the unmistakable sound of an AK-47 filled the air. Four more mercs went down. Body armor seemed to be no match for whatever the AK was loaded with. They were mercilessly perforated and went down like boneless sacks of meat.

The larger vehicle spun around, taking fire, setting itself between the vigilante and his enemy. The passenger door open. A familiar voice said:

''Move your ass, Captain! This is an extraction!''

Castle went inside the truck as it burned rubber.

The Punisher looked at a red-headed woman driving. She was dressed in black fatigues and was wearing a heavy Kevlar vest whose front was covered by a painted white skull.

''Sgt. Cole,'' Castle said.

''Alves. I took my husband's name.''

Alves handed Castle a satchel charge. He set the timer and tossed it out of his window. He heard a blast and some screams.

''You badly hit, Captain?''

''A few scratches. How did you find me? Thought you were out of town.''

''I was. I learned of this ambush on The Punisher while I was after some other scumbags.''

''Good timing.''

''Seems that way.''

Rachel Cole-Alves' story was well known, especially to Castle. She had been a fine Marine. On her wedding day, gang warfare spilled over. Her entire family had been decimated during that firefight. Including her husband. Cole-Alves was also wounded. She survived. She and Castle subsequently sought and destroyed those responsible. They had gone their separate after that. They had met only a few times since.

Brooklyn

Deserted Garage

The vigilantes ditched the garbage truck. They changed vehicles and went to one of Castle's safehouses.

They talked. Exchanged notes about their mutual targets and determined mission objectives.

''Captain.''

''Alves.''

''Does it get easier?''

Castle said nothing.

''The holidays,'' she said, ''I miss them the most.''

Castle said nothing.

''I have worked hard. Muggers. Gangs. Cartels. Pimps. Sex offenders,'' she said. ''But it never stops. The dreams. The nightmares. The images. I see couples, families. And I feel this cold, emptiness. All I remember is what I've lost. The focus on the mission doesn't block that out.''

Castle said nothing. Alves went on.

''I remember when we talked about being focused on mission. Nothing else.''

''The dead can't be distracted.''

''I remember. There is one thing wrong about that. We're not dead.''

Castle said nothing.

''While on mission, I met someone. A…colleague of sorts. We worked together on a few occasions. We talked some. He said something. That caring about someone isn't a weakness. It's a strength. It reminds us of what we're fighting for. It makes this war something else than a drawn out suicide attempt. He…He was nice.''

Castle looked at Alves. There was a long silence. Finally, Castle said:

''You came looking for me,'' Castle said.

''It's the holiday season. No one should be alone for the holidays. Not even you.''

Castle said nothing for a while. He looked at the notes, the boards, the surveillance pictures, the weapons. He looked at Alves.

''All right, Marine,'' Castle said, ''You get the honor of buying me a burger. Extra bacon. And a piece of pie.''

Alves smiled. ''Yes, sir.''

Castle packed light. Two high capacity .45s. A Ka-Bar. The ballistic knife. A couple of hand grenades.

As they approached the diner, they saw a trio of men, in ski-masks, in a beat-up four door. They saw shotguns.

They were going to rob the diner.

The Punishers parked behind them. They pulled out their respective .45s. Castle put sound suppressors on his pistols. Alves did the same. They exchanged a nod. Before stepping of the vehicle, Alves said:

''Captain.''

''Sgt. Alves.''

''Merry Christmas.''

''Merry Christmas.''

And they stepped out.

THE END