Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 754 Blood and Revenge (Second Update)

“I don’t believe it,” he said. “I don’t believe your agents messed up when they infiltrated Langley, and I don’t believe the story about William blocking the way. Victoria Hand, I know you, don’t lie to me.”

“It’s just a euphemism, Frank Castle.” Victoria Hand frowned. She felt the splashed water on the floor could seep into her high heels at any moment, and she hated that feeling. She should be standing on the clean, tidy deck of the aircraft carrier’s command center, issuing orders, but for this mission, she had to come to Clinton, this notorious hellish environment. “William Roslin, Agent Orange… He was on a CIA black ops mission. He completed it and got his current position. The CIA taught local farmers to grow poppies, process them roughly, and ship them back home. He was involved in a drug trafficking case in New York. Someone put a CIA agent in charge of drug trafficking in New York into the police station, and then—”

"—And then he was released on bail?"

Victoria Hand nodded.

“Yes, the agent got into a black sedan after leaving the police station, and we couldn’t track down the car,” she said. “Based on CCTV footage along the route, we found the agent’s body in the Hudson River. If you want to know the cause of death, it was strangulation. If you want to get to the bottom of this, you have to work with us, Frank Castle. You can’t do this alone; the truth you’re facing isn’t that simple.”

"William Roslyn?"

“Agent Orange, William Roslin, wouldn’t comply, and we were in a hurry,” Victoria Hand shrugged. “So we took his head, keeping his brain active while extracting information from it. I know it sounds incredible, but once the search is complete, William Roslin will tell you everything he knows.”

"I'm in." Victoria couldn't see Frank Castle's expression; his head remained lowered. However, she knew he had already moved the gun away. "Whatever your master wants, I'm in. Just don't let that thing come looking for me again."

"You can't just agree to something like this, Frank!" David Lieberman, the former NSA intelligence analyst nicknamed "The Chip," yelled, jumping up from his chair. "We don't know what those people want! Maybe they just want to probe our background, find out how many of us there are, and then wipe us all out! Are you sure you're not being followed? You didn't say my name, did you? Did you?"

Frank Castle glanced at his temporary partner, then continued sitting on the old sofa bed, polishing his SCCY CPX-2 miniature pistol. He had brought this pocket pistol with him during the negotiations with Victoria Hand, though he had never actually drawn it.

"Those people contacted you through your number, right? Are you sure you didn't give them your phone number?"

Frank glanced at him.

"Really? Give me the phone now." David Lieberman held out his hand. Faced with Frank's questioning gaze, he suddenly became agitated. "Don't fucking ask why, just give me that damn phone!" Frank silently complied. David Lieberman decisively snapped the phone in half, removed the SIM card, and inserted it into a device Frank didn't understand. After a series of incomprehensible and far beyond Frank's knowledge, David Lieberman finally relaxed. "You need to change your number," he said. "Since I can track you, those people can also locate you through your phone number. I don't want this place exposed. You have to be careful; many people want us both dead. We're like a deserted island in the ocean, full of sharks. You can't trust even those that look like dolphins, because nobody knows what they're up to..."

“They’re from S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Frank Castle interrupted David’s increasingly absurd remarks. He said in a deep voice, “They want me. They want me to train their soldiers.”

"S.H.I.E.L.D.?! Okay, now we're involved with terrorists again!" David Lieberman slumped into his swivel chair as if all his strength had been drained, almost throwing off his slippers. He stared up at the overhead light. "What do we do now? Follow those S.H.I.E.L.D. people's orders?"

Frank Castle remained silent, picking up another gun and cleaning it. He had many weapons to maintain. After reaching an agreement with Victoria Hand, he received aid from the Immortal City—a complicated but secure method that involved replacing three used vans, enough to reassure Frank Castle's paranoia. Besides the usual firearms and rocket launchers, Victoria Hand also gave him a mysterious briefcase containing a weapon that could only be used a few times. Frank Castle couldn't figure out how to disassemble it, so he carefully studied the instruction manual. "Deuterium heating, magnetic confinement, plasma, particle accelerator…throw it at the enemy after three uses…David, how hot is a solar flare? F*uck!"

"About tens of millions of Kelvin? I don't know, why are you asking?"

Frank Castle tossed aside the instruction manual and pointed to the weapon in the briefcase. "You won't believe it, but this thing is said to be able to release energy that reaches the temperature of a solar flare."

"They gave you some high-tech gadget?" David jumped up, trying to get as far away from the briefcase as possible. "It sounds like a bomb!"

"I don't think they want me dead; they have no reason to do it." Frank gestured with his chin to the file on the table. "They'll give me a document about CIA black operations, and Operation Cerberus, which I was involved in, is just one of them. The CIA has many such operations, and Agent Orange is just one part of it. But that's none of my business; they've promised to give me the intelligence."

"Do you believe them?"

"No, but they can help. That's enough."

David shrugged and touched his unkempt beard. "You know what? You don't have to ruin your whole life, Frank. I'm investigating this so that one day I can see Sarah again, and then you can start a new life."

Frank Castle remained silent.

“You don’t need to put on this tough-guy act, Frank,” David said. “Have you thought about what life will be like after this is all over? Huh? Don’t tell me you haven’t.”

“No, I dream about my family every day, David. I dream about them dying in front of me every day, their blood and brains splattering on my face like molten lava. I can't do anything, I can only watch them being killed.” David saw Frank's skin turn red, the veins in his neck throbbing wildly as if they were miniature bombs about to explode. Even so, Frank Castle didn't vent his violence and anger, but forced himself to sit in that damned eighteen-handed sofa chair, roaring in a low voice with anger that could almost burn his skin. “No, David, I won't think about revenge. I need their blood, their pain, otherwise I can't sleep peacefully. Do you understand, David, do you understand?”

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(End of this chapter)