[center][img]https://s8.postimg.cc/jwq8zjinp/chowpunisher2.jpg[/img] [color=black][b][u]2:00 PM; July 26th, 2018 Manfredi Manor; Outskirts of New York City[/u][/b][/color][/center] Silvio Manfredi had clawed his way to the top over the course of the last fifty years. When Kingpin came to town and overthrew him almost a decade ago, he was livid, to say the least. But he fell in line. He'd done too much to have his entire organization crumble to dust because there was a new guy on top. He'd just have to settle for being second best. Kingpin had let him stick around out of respect, because one thing the mob held dearest was [i]respect[/i]. They were cold-hearted bastards to the guys who spat on that respect, who defiled it. Respect others, and you too shall be treated with respect, even as cinder blocks are being tied around your ankles in preparation to throw you into the harbor. But respect meant jack [i]fuckin'[/i] shit these days. His entire organization was crashing down because some lousy cop went crazy and decided to come gunning for him. The gook bastard had already killed over a hundred of his men, including most of his top guys save for Frankie, Marko, and Hammerhead. He had no semblance of [i]respect[/i], fighting dirty, from the shadows, killing men with extreme prejudice. The man's capacity for violence was godly. The son of a bitch had eluded him for most of the month. Even the third party assassin Silvio had hired failed to put him down. But he had confidence. Niagara had called him last night saying he had caught the fuck, and was gonna make sure his death was nice and slow. Silvio hadn't gotten a call back, yet. Knowing Frankie, he'd probably drag it out for the rest of the day. His phone rang. Silvio pulled it out and checked the caller ID. He smiled. There was Frankie, right on cue. [b]"Manfredi here. How's it going with the Punisher?"[/b] [b]"B-boss... I have some bad news..."[/b] Silvio didn't recognize the voice, but it sure as hell wasn't Frankie. [b]"... Who is this?"[/b] [b]"I-I'm Andy Russo, I work for you. I... Look, boss, Frankie's [i]dead[/i]."[/b] No. That fuckin' [i]schmuck[/i] did not manage to kill Frankie. [b]"... You better not be bullshitting me."[/b] [b]"I-I'm not! Frankie's fuckin' dead! That chink shot him and a bunch of other guys! He got away!"[/b] [b]"..."[/b] Silvio hung up the phone. Frankie was just behind Marko and Hammerhead when it came to the rank he held. Considering Silvio had sent Marko and Hammerhead out of New York City while the Punisher was being dealt with to ensure they didn't get killed, that meant that the Punisher would be coming for him next. That would [i]not[/i] fuckin' happen on his watch. With the rise of metahumans and mutants, the criminal underworld had obviously jumped at the chance to get some on their sides. Manfredi hadn't been lucky enough to nab up metahumans when they were first cropping up, but he had decided to do something smarter... His boys had managed to get some blueprints from Stark Industries. They seemed to be very rough and were most likely for a prototype for some military tech they were working on, but it was military tech nonetheless. He ordered a chop shop and a computer shop he had under his control to start working on it together when he got his hands on it a month ago. They were making good progress on it, but it wasn't finished yet. Still, it would have to do. He dialed the number for the chop shop, where the armor was being worked on. [b]"Vinnie? It's Silvio. I'm gonna need you to finish up the Silvermane armor, fuckin' ASAP."[/b] [center][hr][b][color=black][h3]ISSUE #9 STORM ON THE RISE[/h3][hr] [u]9:41 PM; July 26th, 2018 David Lieberman's House; New York City[/u][/color][/b][/center] This was it. Probably my last time seeing Dave for a good while. Tomorrow night, I would be hitting Manfredi in his own manor. I had taken out all his top dogs. He'd probably be keeping the rest of his goons with him, to provide 'protection', if you called being there to soak up bullets protection. By the time this was all over, I'd have spilled enough blood to fill a lifetime supply of blood bags. [color=darkkhaki][b]"... Something on your mind, Frank?"[/b][/color] I was pulled out of my thoughts by the voice of the man I had come to visit. Dave. I don't know why he helped me out in this. After I got married we sort of fell out of touch. I was busy raising a family, he was busy being a nerdy bachelor. It wasn't that we had a falling out or anything, we just... Drifted apart. I think the last time we had talked before I had recruited his help was two years before that. But still, he jumped at my request. [color=black][b]"... Yeah. Just thinking... Soon, it'll all be over."[/b][/color] He chuckled at that. [color=darkkhaki][b]"Heh. Yeah. Been a wild ride."[/b][/color] [color=black][b]"That's putting it lightly."[/b][/color] There was silence, for a moment longer. [color=black][b]"... You know that after this, I'm gonna have to lay low. We probably won't see each other for a while."[/b][/color] Dave nodded. [color=darkkhaki][b]"Yeah. I know."[/b][/color] [color=black][b]"It's been a pleasure, Dave."[/b][/color] He looked down, smiling. [color=darkkhaki][b]"Pleasure's all mine, Mr. Castle."[/b][/color] Dave stood up, grunting as he did. [color=darkkhaki][b]"Enough of this sappy shit. Let's have a beer. For old time's sake."[/b][/color] I laughed. [color=black][b]"Sounds like a plan."[/b][/color] And then it was just like the old days, when we were both fresh out of the academy, spending late nights chatting over a cold brew. Come tomorrow, I'd be dead, either at someone else's hand or, if I managed to survive this suicide mission I was on... My own. But for now, I'm just Frank, and I'm having a conversation with an old friend, blissfully ignorant of the storm on the rise.