[center][img]https://s33.postimg.cc/neeg2gy5b/The_Replacement_Killers_36150_Medium.jpg[/img] [color=black][b][u]An Hour Later; Afternoon David Lieberman's House; New York City[/u][/b][/color][/center] I felt exposed out here, standing on Dave's doorstep. The sounds of children playing in the street, dogs barking, cars driving by... It reminded me that I was in public, and I wasn't exactly in a crime-ridden area, which meant a squad car could be driving by right behind me. The seconds between me knocking on the door and the door opening felt like minutes, hours even. The door opened. Dave looked at me for a moment, adjusting his glasses as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His arms wrapped themselves around me, catching me off guard in one of the biggest hugs I've ever had. At the same time, he pulled me in, and shut the door. After a moment, he let me go, grinning. [color=darkkhaki][b]"Frank, man, it's so good to see you!"[/b][/color] he said, sounding not unlike a child unwrapping their Christmas presents. I chuckled, taking a seat on his couch. [color=black][b]"It's only been about a month, Dave. No need to get all teary-eyed on me."[/b][/color] He shook his head, laughing, and took a seat in his recliner. [color=darkkhaki][b]"Heh... I know, but still. I wasn't expecting to see you so soon, man. How's it been?"[/b][/color] [color=black][b]"Could be worse. Been living out of that van for a while, sticking around the shittier areas of Harlem. How's it been with you? Still working for the department?"[/b][/color] [color=darkkhaki][b]"Yeah, still doing the same sorta stuff. Stopping hackers and the like... So what're you doing here, man? You're not the type to just come over and play catch up. There's some sort of ulterior motive."[/b][/color] I paused, as if mulling over how to word it. [color=black][b]"... I'm getting back into the game. The vigilante game, that is. Y'know, being the Punisher."[/b][/color] He quirked an eyebrow. [color=darkkhaki][b]"No shit? Not sure if I should say 'that's great' or 'you're a fucking idiot'."[/b][/color] [color=black][b]"Let's hold off on that for now. You still got my guns?"[/b][/color] In response, he stood up and walked over to a rug which, from what I remember, wasn't in his living room before. He pulled it up, and lifted a piece of wood covering a hole. He pulled a duffel bag out of the hole, and tossed it to me. I opened it: lo and behold, my arsenal and 'costume'. [color=darkkhaki][b]"Was a pain in the ass cutting a hole into the floor. You ought to be thankful."[/b][/color] [color=black][b]"Believe me, Dave, I am."[/b][/color] [color=darkkhaki][b]"So,"[/b][/color] Dave said, plopping back down in his recliner. [color=darkkhaki][b]"What happened this time? Russians killed your dog so now you're going to topple the Russian mob?"[/b][/color] [color=black][b]"Very funny, but no... Earlier today I saw something in a neighborhood in Harlem. This gang, just terrorizing the place, and no one did anything about it. I wasn't even going to do anything about it either... But I did. Because I realized that there's still people out there profiting off the suffering of others, and I'm not going to sit around letting them do that."[/b][/color] He nodded slightly, looking as if lost in thought. [color=darkkhaki][b]"... You don't have to do this, y'know? Cops are after you, whatever's left of Manfredi's organization is after you, and that's not even mentioning Spider-Woman. This is just painting a bigger target on your back."[/b][/color] [color=black][b]"Better to go down doing what I think is right than wasting my days away, waiting to die..."[/b][/color] I pause for a moment. [color=black][b]"So... Know of anything that needs a 'gentle touch'?"[/b][/color] His contemplative frown twists into a mischievous grin. [color=darkkhaki][b]"Maybe."[/b][/color][center][color=black][b][hr][h3]ISSUE #12 HERE I WAS AGAIN[/h3][hr][u]Several Hours Later; Night An Illegal Chop Shop; New York City[/u][/b][/color][/center] Dave tipped me off about an illegal chop shop, run by some white supremacist gang in the predominately black area of Harlem who frequently harass the minorities there. Gangs, like baggy pants and gold chains kind of gangs, were one thing. Neo-Nazis were another. I wouldn't need to feel bad about gunning them down considering they were practically asking for it. I parked my van a block or so away from the chop shop, an old factory the gang had repurposed. I listened outside, hearing the screech of machinery, the occasional voice, and a radio playing some weird techno music. I set down my duffel bag, putting on vest, pulling out each gun, loading them, and attaching them to the various hooks on the vest. I slid a few magazines and shells into the pockets of my pants and vest, clipped a few grenades to the vest, took a deep breath, then made my move. I climbed up to the roof, looking down through the skylight. The men inside were all bald, with various... Anti-color tattoos, to put it simply. They were working on an assortment of cars, all stolen probably. I saw a room that, from the windows it held, appeared to be an office of some sorts. If their leader was anywhere, that'd be it. Now, I could climb back down and go in through the front, but that would be suicide. I could go in through the back, maybe take out a few, then get gunned down. Or I could jump through the skylight and break my neck when I hit the ground. But another, better option, was swinging in through the skylight. Times like this make me wish I had some web shooter thing like my old 'friend' Spider-Woman. Maybe even a grappling hook or something... Wonder if Dave could find an arms dealer that sold those sort of things. I shook my head, clearing it of that train of thought, and, as I did, spotted a length of wire nearby. It appeared to be from a power line, which may have snapped, fallen on the roof, and was left there long after the wire had been replaced. I pulled on it, testing the strength. It [i]might[/i] hold. Deciding to say 'fuck it', I tied it around an air conditioning unit, tested the strength and, once happy with it, gripped it in one hand. With the other, I pulled out a smoke grenade, bit off the pin, and threw it through the skylight. As smoke poured out of it and filled the room below me, I heard the shouts of the gang. It went silent for a moment after, the only sound being [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bh66pGIhysQ]the song on the radio[/url]. I took a deep breath, pulled out my MP5... And swung in. [center][img]https://s15.postimg.cc/o3txhdl4b/600px-_HBMP5_A3-1.jpg[/img][/center] I fired the gun off, the smoke shrouding the room preventing me from getting a clear shot on anything. But judging by the sounds I was hearing, shouts of pain and the distinctive thumps of bodies hitting the floor, I didn't need to see. I continued to fire until the gun was empty, then dropped it while continuing to swing. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as I let go of the wire, twisting upside down in mid-air. I pulled out my pistols and fired blindly as I fell, twisting once more before I hit the ground, thankfully landing on my back instead of my head. The smoke was clearing, my pistols were empty, and I heard the shouts of a man ordering the gang to move. I unholstered my smaller SMGs and prepared to meet them head on. As soon as the smoke cleared, I rolled under a truck. The gang looked all around, occasionally firing off a gun or shouting a threat in an attempt to intimidate me. I looked around for something to take advantage of... And spotted a group of three, all standing under a hydraulic jack which currently held a Toyota Prius high above their heads. I took aim at the jack's control mechanism, and fired. [b][i]*CRA-SLAAM!*[/i][/b] The bastards barely had time to scream as the car came down on them, crushing them under its weight. The others spun around to face the hydraulic jack, and I decided to give them a quick hello. I scrambled out from under the truck, SMG in either hand, and began to fire. A handful went down before the others could react. I pressed on, swinging my guns wildly to hit opponents all around, while twisting and ducking occasionally to make it harder to draw a bead on me. I heard the telltale [i]click[/i]s of empty guns, dropping my SMGs and swinging the assault rifle around from my back. I gunned down the bastards in front of me, then spun back around and fell to my knees, mowing down more as they approached. Here I was again, outnumbered and outgunned, but too stubborn to get killed without taking dozens more with me. I jumped to the side, mowing down the rest of the gangsters in front of me, before pulling myself to my feet and sprinting in the direction of the office. Bullets whizzed past me, and I rolled over to the office, coming to a kneel as I stopped, and killing the group of gangsters that fired at me. The M16 was empty. I dropped the gun, pulled out my shotgun, and spun around, blowing away two others who were firing at me from behind. [center][img]https://i.4pcdn.org/tv/1378108272891.gif[/img][/center] I turned to my right at the sound of shouting and took aim, firing off once, twice, and falling to the ground to avoid any gunfire they might've gotten off. I stayed still for a few moments, shotgun at the ready, tensed up and waiting for the moment another came out to attack. But nothing came. After a moment more to make sure, I pulled myself to my feet and walked over to the door of the office. Just a few more, Frank. Just a few more... [b][i]*KRAAAAK!*[/i][/b] The door gave to the force of my boot slamming into it, swinging wide open. I rolled inside, coming to a halt in front of a few gangsters, all unarmed. I aimed the shotgun. [b]"Wait, no!"[/b] one of them shouted. I didn't listen. I fired, and three of them fell to the ground. Two were still alive, so I fired again. I thought I saw one twitching on the ground, so I fired a third time. There was nothing else after that. I didn't stick around long after that. I just gathered up the guns I had dropped and left the scene of my massacre.