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[center][i][b]Home Is Where The War Is- Chapter 1: The Thread[/b][/i][/center]

[center][i]Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man-Homer's Odyssey[/i][/center]

September 8th, 2013
Castle's safe house, South Bronx

[i]Frank Castle was dreaming. In this dream, he was holding hands with his wife while his son rode his shoulders. In Maria's other arm was Lisa. They were walking in the park, the same place that they always did, when at a certain point, as the dream always does, blood spatters the ground, holes like gunshot wounds appearing inexplicably on his family, sounds of gunfire ringing in his head. Frank dared not look, SHOULD not look, and yet, as the nightmare always did, his eyes were forced to fix on what remained of his family....[/i]

Castle woke in cold sweat, gasping for breath. The dream-no, nightmare-was always the same. He sighed and got up, looking at the clock. The time was 6 AM, and after that nightmare, there was no way he could go back to sleep. Walking over to the dresser, and with a practiced motion, he quickly got ready for the day, and slipped on a simple black t-shirt over black cargo pants and combat boots. Walking into his kitchen, he fixed himself coffee. 

When the coffee was done, he grabbed the mug and opened his front door to retrieve today's edition of [i]The Daily Bugle[/i]. Walking back inside, he ignored the front page and went straight to the crime section, looking for possible leads to connect to the mysterious gun-running organization that had cropped up within the last six months. There was nothing much there, mostly related to Harlem's drug problem and the gang feud up in Spanish Harlem, but one article caught his eye. It read: 

[i]Marine Vet. Widowed After Two Days of Marriage. 

by Norah Winters

[SoHo]- Just two days ago, tragedy hit a newlywed couple. Recently married Dr. Daniel Alves was gunned down in a mugging gone wrong. 

Late on September 6th, the doctor, and his wife, Rachel Cole-Alves, were heading towards the Statue of Liberty when they decided to head back to their hotel room. The two stepped down an alleyway, intending to use it as a shortcut when they were set upon by the mugger. Dr. Alves was regrettably shot to death. The police have no leads

Dr. Alves, whose funeral will be held today, is survived by his wife, Rachel. Rachel is a former Marine and Silver star recipient.[/i]

Castle cut out the article and tacked it on to the corkboard, linking it via thread to the center where a question mark lay. Though the article had no real information, Castle felt a gut instinct towards this, though confirmation was needed. Picking up a phone, he dialled the [i]Bugle's[/i] office number. After a few rings, the phone was picked up. 

"Daily Bugle, Betty Brant speaking."

Castle cleared his throat before continuing. 

"This is Frank Rook, I'm calling for a Norah Winters?"

"One moment."

Castle ran a hand down his face, briefly wondering if he should shave.

"Norah Winters."

Castle took a deep breath, and encrypted his line. The next few seconds were crucial if this was to work. 

"Norah, listen closely. I am the Punisher." He heard her gasp, and paused to let that sink in. "But don't bother trying to trace this call."

"Ok....So what are you calling me for?"

"Rachel Cole-Alves. I want to know the details of her mugging straight from the source."

"So you want ME to give you her address?"

"Yes."

"You aren't going to....punish her, are ya?"

"No. I just need information."

"Ok....She's staying in the Hotel on 6th and 16th." 

As soon as the words left her mouth, the line went dead. Norah sat back in her chair and ran a hand through her long blond hair. Worry knotted her stomach, but at the same time, something reassured her. Conflicted feelings churned within her as she rose from her seat to find a friend she trusted to talk to. In the end, she walked towards Ben Urich's office. 

Castle on the other hand, slipped his signature bulletproof vest on, and slipped his coat on over that. He had to find out exactly the circumstances, but his gut told him that he had found it. That one loose thread in the gunrunning organisation. 

And he was planning on pulling it till their world fell apart.