Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1194 The Fourth Class (First Update)

"Put the gun away. You've lost too much blood to even hold it," Salomon said, but Frank Cassel shook his head, refusing to comply. He was also using a SIG P226 pistol, standard issue for the Marine Corps, his most familiar handgun. However, judging by the workmanship of the ghost gun with the serial number ground off, it was likely made in a family-run gunsmith workshop in the Philippines or somewhere else, with virtually zero reliability—the most common source of weapons on the New York black market. "Don't take my patience for granted, Frank Cassel. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't be alive now."

"You're taking me to the location I'm telling you." Frank Cassel quickly looked up at the night sky outside the skylight, then pushed the gun closer. He lowered his voice, his tone sinister, and asked, "Where's your Quinjet parked, huh? Where's the evacuation route that son of a bitch Nick Fury arranged for you? That explosion…was it you, that son of a bitch's agent?"

"There's no room for negotiation on this." Salomon wasn't going to indulge him. The smell of blood and sweat on Frank Cassel was awful; it was hard to tell if it was his own or that of gangsters, but he definitely had a gunshot wound and several cuts that were still bleeding. "You don't necessarily have to leave here conscious. I could beat you half to death and still bring you back to life. So either you put down the gun, or I'll do it for you," Salomon said. He saw the light machine gun he'd given Frank Cassel lying by the window, the floor littered with spent shell casings—the source of the gunfire they'd heard outside the cordon not long ago. "You're unwilling to go to Latveria to fight the gangs, preferring to stay in New York as a vigilante. Then be prepared to be used."

"I'm holding your arm right now, and I have a gun to your head," Frank Cassel said. "I'm fighting only for myself now. Nobody can use me!"

"That doesn't change the outcome. You've already taken your revenge. Your so-called crime fighting was just a death wish. Many wanted you dead, but many others wanted you alive. Latveria valued your abilities, but you refused," Salomon said bluntly. Perhaps because of his injuries, perhaps because of his trust in Nick Fury's reliability, or perhaps because Lorna was nearby, Frank Cassel eventually lowered his gun, though he still kept a wary eye on Salomon. "Close your eyes, count to ten in silence, and you'll be in a safe place."

While inwardly condemning the weakness of the New York SWAT team, Tina Madani was also grateful that her support had arrived just in time.

Madani is now a Homeland Security hero because Frank Cassel killed his former Marine comrade, Billy Russell, one of the masterminds behind the deaths of his wife and daughter, and also Madani's one-night stand. However, due to the current media climate, the Punisher cannot be publicly praised on television. Therefore, the Homeland Security leadership awarded the credit to Madani, who had been investigating the Cassel family massacre. After her promotion, Tina Madani received more resources to investigate the Punisher, who had caused trouble again after his release from prison.

However, when she, wearing a bulletproof vest, led Homeland Security agents into the building belonging to the Irish mob, all she saw were the corpses of Irish gangsters scattered on the ground, collapsed walls, a machine gun, and shell casings everywhere. The Punisher, Frank Cassel, whom she was tracking, had once again disappeared.

"What should we do?" the agent asked.

"Investigate the source of the weapons. There shouldn't be this kind of heavy firepower in Manhattan." Tina Midani pointed to the machine gun leaning against the window. "I don't expect to find anything, but let the field agents and forensic personnel in anyway. Maybe the Irish mob has the information we need."

"Sir!" an agent rushed out of the room. "We need a demolition team! There are so many IEDs (improvised explosive devices) here, more than there are on an entire road in Afghanistan, and they're all mortar shells!"

"Fuck! Are you crazy, Frank!" Tina Midani glanced in the direction her subordinate pointed, then cursed through gritted teeth as she ordered her team to retreat. "Get the New York SWAT team out of here! They're just causing trouble! Have them evacuate the surrounding area and expand the cordon! Contact FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency, an agency under the Department of Homeland Security) and have them send the Emergency Technical Guard Team! Don't let anyone into that room until the bomb squad arrives; that stuff is enough to blow the entire block to smithereens!"

"Where is this?" Frank Cassel was clearly at a loss, and even showed a little panic.

He had never been surrounded by such a large group of minors before, and he couldn't even pull out the pistol he had been trying to draw. He was led inside by a group of teenagers and toddlers and sat down at a long table that was clearly a dining table. The person who had brought him there disappeared, only to return a few minutes later carrying a white first-aid kit.

"Give me your gun. Lorna, put all three guns in the safe."

"Where is this? Why are there so many children?"

"The Athena Mountain Orphanage, these people are my family." Salomon first picked up a blunt pair of scissors and cut open the clothes covering the wound before Frank Cassel could react. Then he opened the first-aid kit and organized the surgical instruments. "The bullet is still inside. Do you need anesthesia?" He picked up a bottle of saline solution and began cleaning the bleeding wound. A scalpel and a pair of tweezers were the most basic tools. Seeing Frank Cassel shake his head, Salomon decisively inserted the tweezers and began to dig out the bullet. The movements were rough but effective.

In less than twenty seconds, he located the bullet clip, pulled it out, and began stitching up the wound, even the knife cut, as if he were a highly skilled medic. After treating the wound and covering it with gauze, he poured himself and Frank Cassel a glass of Tennessee whiskey, perfectly befitting the Punisher's style. Frank Cassel couldn't handle expensive brandy; country whiskey was perfect for middle-aged men and veterans like him—cheap and strong.

"Fortunately, no bones or major blood vessels were damaged, but you won't be able to lift your shoulder for a while."

"Who are you?" Frank Cassel suddenly asked. He wasn't stupid; the whole thing was incredibly bizarre. He didn't know how he got here, nor did he know the truth behind it all. He only knew that he had indeed found himself in a place he didn't understand ten seconds later. "Ordinary people don't have this kind of skill. Are you Nick Fury's agent?"

"No, Nick Fury is my agent." After treating his wound, Salomon removed his disposable rubber gloves. "Nick Fury is working for me now. All the resources that S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't been seized by the White House and the Pentagon are in my hands, including Nick Fury's space station and alien pets."

"Are you a Latvian official? Why did you save me?"

“You could say that,” Salomon nodded calmly. “I need you to investigate something about the Super Soldier program. There’s a guy currently locked up in the basement of an orphanage. He’s the manager of a private military contractor in Midtown…yes, just like Billy Russell, he got some shady Pentagon orders and colluded with some pharmaceutical companies. They extracted a hormone from mouse brains using Steve Rogers’ serum sample as a model, and the pharmaceutical companies, in their rush to meet deadlines, conducted double-blind human trials, including with Marines from the Middle East, homeless people in New York City, and veterans from rehab centers. I can provide you with the resources to investigate this. That explosion was just to cover up what we took from the Irish mob.”

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)