Chapter Text
This was a bad idea.
Frank’s eyes ticked back and forth across the hall. To doors and the people walking through, to windows and the people nearby, to lines and the people waiting in them, he scanned them all thoroughly and repeatedly. Why the hell don't people listen to him? Why do they fight him every goddamn step of the way?
As far as Frank was concerned, this whole event was asking for trouble. If Frank had been Lead on this, considering the size, scale, and guest list of this thing, he’d have doubled the size of his security team. But he wasn’t Lead this time, Bill was. Frank had pressed the issue, several times, but all he got in return was a suave smile and “Frankie- it’s a bunch of rich old people eating dinner. Relax, brother.”
Frank stretched his neck from one side to the other, frustrated. He and Bill had served together. Frank trusted him with his life- but this time- he thought Billy was making the wrong call. He'd actually told Frank and Curtis that since the job would be so easy, they should sit this one out, he could bring a couple of the younger guys instead. Both Curt and Frank put their foot down though, if Bill wanted to scale back the team in numbers- that was his call- but there was no way that they were going to sit on the bench for an event of this size in the middle of Manhattan. Billy was over confident. Frank would have to talk to him about it later. Right now, his priority was to maintain communication with the small team they had, and pay extra close attention to the weak spots he was becoming more aware of by the minute. Curt caught Frank’s eye from across the room and shook his head. Dammit, Bill.
Hyper-focused, he picked up a click click click of heels approaching him from behind through the din of the crowd. His mouth tipped up into a smile so small most people would miss it. He knew who those heels belonged to. He’d hoped she’d be here today, she always made these events much more bearable. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to. She kept walking until she was standing right beside him, so close he could feel her heat, but not touching.
“So, what do you think? Anyone here gonna give you any trouble?” She said, her voice low, amused.
“No one ever gives me trouble, ma’am.” He said, cocky enough to make her roll her eyes.
“Anyone gonna give me any trouble?”
“Not on my watch.”
They didn’t turn to look at each other. They kept their gazes out toward the crowd, scanning the room with very different priorities.
Karen was a reporter and, like Frank, she was constantly attending these stuffy, overly priced galas, dinners, and fundraisers. Karen was there to find a story, to get a glimpse of the goings on of New York’s rich and powerful. Frank was there to keep New York’s rich and powerful safe. Who knows how many of these things they had been to without ever noticing each other? But one particular event about a year ago changed all that.
It had been a silent auction with hors d’oeuvres and cocktails, a live band, and people milling all around bidding exorbitant amounts on frivolous things for some charity or another. Karen was there, mingling and chatting people up, hunting for the scent of intrigue. She was blindsided by a huge man whose face was almost as red as the wine she nearly spilled in her hasty attempt to get out of his arms reach. It was Carlo Linetti, successful businessman, probably one of the richest men at in the room. The same Carlo Linetti that she’d just published an expose about, accusing him of multiple counts of sexual harassment of women in his organization, and the subsequent intimidation and silencing of those same women. It had been a scathing story. He deserved it. She’d never regret writing the article, but she was definitely regretting attending this particular event, now that she was facing him and he looked ready wring her neck. He was cursing and muttering all sorts of heinous things under his breath at her when he grabbed her arm, hard enough to make her yelp. He seemed ready to drag her away from the crowd when there was a blur, and suddenly Linetti was facedown on the ground, pinned there by Frank who was issuing orders to the team who’d quickly descended on the scene, in such a controlled voice, that it was hard to believe he was in the midst of wrestling another full grown man. Linetti was taken away, and Frank was up off the ground, adjusting his jacket and straightening his tie so fast that most of the party guests had no idea that the scene had even occurred.
Karen had been shaken up. Her hands trembling so badly that she couldn’t take the gulp of wine she so desperately wanted for fear of splashing it all over her face. Frank strode over, looking her up and down, scanning her for injury. The face that had been so grim a moment ago, softened as he searched her eyes.
“Are you ok, ma’am?”
“Um… yeah,” Karen was flustered. The whole thing had her blood pumping fast, but on top of all that… this guy. He was, shit… mouthwatering. A tough guy with puppy dog eyes, filling out his suit so well it should have been illegal.
By the time Karen noticed the growing concern on his face, she realized that she’d been silent way too long, staring at him like a concussed idiot.
“I mean, I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine.” She said, blushing. “Thank you for helping me.”
“It’s what I’m here for.” He said, still searching her eyes, not 100% convinced she was alright.
He looked down at her arm and could see Linetti’s red handprint beginning to bloom on her skin. He scowled. She was going to have bruises. Without thinking he touched the marks lightly. She got goose bumps.
He stood with her in the kitchen, where he’d taken her to grab some ice for her arm. They started chatting and got to know each other. She was smart and funny, and it appeared, from the way she smiled and laughed up at him, that he could be funny too, when he wanted to be.
She learned that he was one of the Heads of Security with Anvil- the elite private security provider in the city.
He learned that she was from Vermont but had been in the city for a few years now, that she had a cat, that the only thing she liked about these frilly events was the free champagne because as much as she loved it, she never bought it for herself, and that she had to come to these events all the time but she only had two fancy dresses that she rotated out because no way was she going to spend a million dollars on dresses for this crap. He also learned that she was a reporter, she was ballsy as hell, not afraid of anyone or anything that came between her and getting the truth out there to the public.
After than night he’d started looking for her name in the bylines. She was good, and he read everything she wrote. Whenever they saw each other out at these events they always made time for each other, to catch up and share stories and make each other laugh. Or, to simply stand, side-by-side, smirking out at the crowd, like everyone else was the butt of their own private joke. It wasn’t until Curtis had recently started teasing Frank about it, calling Karen his girlfriend that Frank realized he and Karen weren’t making casual small talk… they were flirting. Frank had been stumped. He didn’t flirt. He was a recently home from war, recently divorced, grumpy, bastard- and that was according to his friends. Karen was… exquisite. Why she’d flirt with mean mugged guy like him, he had no idea… but he sure as hell enjoyed it.
Finally giving in to the urge to look at her, Frank turned his head and appreciated the view. She looked gorgeous, as always, draped in one of her two fancy dresses, with her blond hair in waves and her lips bright red. She was wearing his favorite. It was black and silky, and it floated over her as she moved. The straps seemed barely there on her shoulders, like the slightest brush of his finger could send the whole thing gliding into a pool around her on the floor.
Whoa. Watch it, asshole. She doesn’t need you thinking about her like that…
But, with the way Karen allowed her gaze to drift over him a bit before she met his eyes, maybe she wouldn’t mind all that much…
“I’m glad you got my back, Frank.” She smiled. “Now I can venture into the wild, unafraid of observing these beasts in their natural habitat.”
She returned to searching the room and must have spotted something interesting because her eyes lit up and she whispered, “Gotcha.”
Frank choked on a quick laugh. “Happy hunting.”
Karen was already a few steps away, but she turned quickly with a wicked red grin and gave him a wink.
Curtis, who had clearly been watching the whole exchange from across the room, caught Frank’s eye again, this time raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Frank rolled his eyes and spoke into the radio surveillance piece hidden in his lapel, “Keep your eyes on those doors, Hoyle.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Curt’s sing-song voice came through Frank’s earpiece, letting him know his orders were somehow being obeyed and undermined at the same time.
Suddenly, it was Billy’s voice in his ear, “Cut the chitchat.”
For as lackadaisical as Billy had been in the preparation, he was all business now. Frank had never seen him so on edge. It was one of the reasons Frank was waiting until tomorrow to once again revisit the issue that their team was too small for this event- it had been poor planning. Bill was striding through the hall with that fake smile he plastered on his face when he spoke with clients, but he wasn’t his usual suave self… he was twitchy. He was everywhere at once, approaching members of the Anvil team and communicating face-to-face rather than on the radio, which is less noticeable to clients, and also more helpful to the team so that everyone knows what’s going on at the same time. It was another thing they could discuss tomorrow.
Frank refocused on the task at hand, trying to suppress the feeling that something was wrong. Unfortunately, the acid feeling in his stomach and the tingling up his spine were just not going away, in fact, they were growing. Something was fucking wrong here. But all seemed calm, his team was perfectly in place. Billy was talking discreetly, but heatedly, to a few of the guys near the kitchens. What the fuck is he doing? That is not the way to run communication at an event like this. Why is he…
Karen re-appeared at his side, startling him. Wow. If Karen can sneak up on…
“Frank.” Her voice was off. “Something’s wrong.”
When their eyes met, several things happened at once. The horrible sound of gunfire pierced the air, people began to scream, Frank felt a hot burn across the side of his head, he grabbed Karen and slammed her to the ground, covering her body with his own.
Frank’s mind focused, razor sharp, in that moment. Someone had tried to kill him. The burn on the side of his head was a bullet graze, and like all head wounds, it was bleeding profusely. Karen was small and shivering underneath him, but bravely silent, resisting the urge to scream or cry like so many others in the room. Good girl.
How the fuck did this happen? Where was his team?
Frank looked around quickly. He had been posted near a large decorative concrete planter full of flowers and tall leafy foliage.
“Come on, Karen. Come with me.”
In the melee of every thing going on, they crawled over to the giant display. Karen dove in and laid flat on her back. She was flattening the plants in the middle, but from the outside no one could see her.
“Stay.”
Frank scuttled, using the concrete as protection, pulled his gun. He needed to find out what happened to his team, get a count of threats, come up with a plan. Why hadn’t anyone radioed for help? Something in his gut told him to stay off radio, to get a visual assessment before breaking the silence. He peered around the plantar and his heart bottomed out into his stomach. There were men, it looked like- eight of them- holding the terrified party guests at gun point with assault rifles. But they weren’t just any men, they were his men. His team. NO. No, no, no.
“Ladies and gentlemen- can I have your attention… QUIET!” A familiar voice boomed over the PA system. Frank felt like he was in a dream- a nightmare. He risked leaning out a little further so he could get a good look at the stage.
There, under the spotlights, handsome as always, was – Frank couldn’t believe what he was seeing- Billy. He was standing up at the microphone, smiling that charming smile, looking like he was about to receive an award and give a speech. But there was a gun in his hand.
“Quiet everyone, quiet down. There’s no need to make a mess here tonight, you all look too pretty.”
The crowd quickly grew silent. A couple of the Anvil guys were quickly making their way through the crowd and around the tables grabbing everyone’s phones and wrist pieces into bags, and then they tossed those bags into the big fountain at the center of the room.
“This is going to be simple, I’m not fancy like all of you.” Billy said, still smiling, flirting with his terrified audience. “So tonight, you’re gonna get robbed, you’re gonna wait around awhile, and if you do what you’re told and play nice- you’re gonna go home tonight. You’ll have a good cry, and then forget about this. Hell, I doubt this will even make it to the Top 10 list of worst charity auctions you’ve ever been too. Ok?”
Bill smiled magnanimously out over the crowd.
“We’re not here for your purses and your earrings, so you can relax. We’re here for a few specific items, and if those items happen to belong to you… we’ll be in touch shortly. In the mean time, behave.”
Frank watched as the crowd seemed to settle down and accept their fate. Most of the Anvil men stayed in place, guns drawn. But two of them made their way to Billy and were looking at a tablet in quiet discussion.
Curt was missing. The realization stabbed Frank in the gut and his eyes frantically searched the room. Please no, please… Finally, Frank spotted Curtis on the ground, grimacing in pain. It looked like his hands had been tied behind his back. He was bleeding- shot in the leg it looked like. At least he was alive.
It seemed like Frank and Curtis were the only people in the room who’d been shot.
Bill.
Rage simmering, Frank tried to think, to muster a plan, but he couldn’t. He was to shocked, and furious, and… hurt. Since their time serving in the Marines together, Frank, Billy, and Curtis had been brothers. Why would he do this? What the fuck was happening?
SHIT. Bill and the two guys with the tablet were headed his way. With no time to make a better move, Frank crept quickly into the plants with Karen. He startled her, but she didn’t even gasp. So smart, so brave. In the center where they would remain unseen, there was barely enough room for one person, let alone two. Frank was directly on top of her, held up on his forearms to avoid crushing her, but completely invading her space. They were nose-to-nose, Frank’s hips cradled between her thighs. She was so soft. Frank’s forehead creased as he tried to convey with his eyes how sorry he was to be on her like this. Karen nodded, she understood. She even moved her hands, making fists in his jacket. Her eyes searched his face, worried. Frank realized that she was looking at the bullet graze on his head; it was still bleeding and must have looked awful. He tipped his mouth into a smile to let her know he was ok. He felt her sigh of relief under his belly. They were… very close.
Karen’s blood was buzzing. She’d thought about having Frank in this position too many times to count, but this whole situation was fucked. If she had heard correctly, it was Frank’s team doing this robbery. They double-crossed him. They shot him. He was acting like it was ok, but he was bleeding a lot. My god, he's tough, he’s like a machine. She shoved that thought away. It was too distracting, with him situated the way he was, and she needed to pay attention. Voices were getting closer. She felt Frank’s body tense.
“You had one fucking job to do, one fucking job. Where is he?” Bill hissed.
“You said shoot him- so I shot him.”
“What I said, was ‘incapacitate him’, shoot him in the leg or something- like Curtis. Not kill him- God, Lewis!”
“Well… he must have gotten away… so he’s not dead.”
“No shit. Now Frank Castle is in the building somewhere, thinking I tried to have him killed.”
“So… what do you want-“
“Go find him.” Bill’s voice was grim, “Find him, and finish it. It’s all fucked up now.”
Karen and Frank stared at each other, wide-eyed. Karen knew how much Frank cared about Billy, over the months she had heard enough stories to realize that Billy was a little brother to him. Her heart ached. She spread her had along Frank’s side, to comfort him maybe. Frank closed his eyes.
“Alright, its show time.” Bill said, for the first time that evening, using his radio to communicate to the team. “All team- proceed as planned. Variable- Frank Castle’s whereabouts are unknown- assume hostile. … Frankie, if you’re listening… I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to go down this way. Come find me, let me explain… we can be in this together, brother.”
Frank got the message through his earpiece while Karen heard it from the man speaking only a few feet away. Another voice she didn’t recognize piped in.
“Are you serious, Bill? If Castle brings himself in, would you let him join the team?”
“No, that’s not going to work out.” Bill said, his bitter voice ironic. “Frank doesn’t work that way. He, and Curt, and all the rest of these assholes here… they’re all gonna die tonight.”
Frank’s eyes snapped open as he and Karen communicated without words. Billy was going to kill everyone… they had to do something…
Suddenly, Bill’s voice was on the PA again. He must be back on stage.
“Alright, well done everyone. You really are well behaved boys and girls. I’d like to have a few words with the following people. You have nothing to fear- but if you don’t identify yourself quickly- things are going to get really messy, really quick. Don’t spoil our evening- just stand up as your name is called.”
The crowd was utterly silent.
“Thomas Crane, Mary Ellen Watson, Jackson Field.”
Bill looked out at the crowd, smiling expectantly.
No one moved. Bill’s smile didn’t slip.
“Come on folks, we can all walk out of here alive, or my team can paint the walls with your brains. What’ll it be?”
Slowly, three people rose from their chairs and were directed to meet Bill in the kitchen.
This was so fucked. Billy kept telling everyone they were safe- but all of these people were going to die. Unless Frank did something- what? What? Ideas crystalized. What should he do? Frank needed to get out of this room. What were his advantages? He had the element of surprise on his side. Knowledge of the battleground... thorough research for this event had Frank knowing this building inside and out. The security room. Three floors down. It had cameras on almost every room in the building, as well as- if luck was on his side- some tactical gear and supplies. How to get there when they couldn’t move without being seen?
Frank leaned to one side to grab his silencer from his holster, practically burying his face in Karen’s hair. It smelled like coconut. He attached it to the barrel of his gun. Frank raised himself up as high as he dared, trying to get glimpse of something, anything that might be useful. He spotted a wall mounted fire alarm. Perfect. He took aim. Karen froze beneath him, not knowing his plan, but trusting him.
Voomp. He took the shot. The alarm shattered, and while people turned their heads to try to located the small sound, the lights flickered on and off and the sprinklers activated. The room erupted into new chaos, the Anvil team shuffled around to subdue it.
“NOW, Karen, now. Come with me.”
She obeyed.
They quickly crawled out of the plants and ran towards an emergency stairwell, where it didn’t matter if they threw the door open because the building alarms were already going off. Frank was gripping Karen’s hand like a vice as they tore down the stairs. Suddenly remembering that Lewis was out here, somewhere in the building, hunting for him, he stopped short. Karen almost flew past him, but Frank caught her around the waist, gripping her body to his. She pushed against his chest, scared and confused.
“Shhhh. Shhhh. Wait. Listen.”
Karen held her breath, listening as hard as she could. When neither of them heard anything other than their own heartbeats in their heads, Frank loosened his grip on her and they proceeded down the last flight of stairs with caution. Frank took the lead exiting the stairwell. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he took Karen’s hand again and led her down the long hallway, breathing a sigh of relief when his security pass unlocked the door for him. He dragged Karen inside and closed the door quietly.
He took a moment, staring at the closed door. This was real. He’d been betrayed. Many lives were at stake. He had to fix this. He had to stop them. Bill.
Frank could hear Karen moving around the room behind him. “Dammit.”
He turned to see her hanging up the landline.
“Phone line has been cut. I can’t believe left my phone at my table!” She swore again.
Frank’s head was starting to clear and he was really able to get a look at her. She was so beautiful, even all tousled and sweaty from the crawling and running. She was covered in blood. NO. A monster inside him roared to life and he was on her in a second, running his hands over her, looking for the injury.
“Are you ok? Where are you hurt? Tell me where you’re hurt- ”
“Frank.” He didn’t listen, so she grabbed his wrists, “Frank. I’m ok- its not my blood, its yours.”
Her voice broke, tears threatened to spill down her cheeks any moment. “Are you ok? You’re bleeding so much.”
Oh yeah.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about that.” He watched her pretty face as she looked around the room. Luckily, the security room had everything he’d hoped it would have. She spotted a First Aid kit and stepped around him to grab it. Acknowledging the blood loss seemed to make it suddenly real. Frank felt light headed, woozy. He must have looked pale because after she set the First Aid kit down on the desk, she took Frank by both hands and led him to sit on the desk as well. She found some antiseptic and stepped up to Frank, between his legs to get close. She dabbed lightly at his wound and he winced. Her hands were shaking and a few tears finally overflowed as she worked on him. It made his gut twist.
“Don’t cry, its not that bad, Sweetheart.”
“Such a tough guy.” She said, rolling her eyes as they both smiled. They were quiet for a while as she finished up. Frank felt himself relax a bit, enjoying her light touches.
“Well, you’re not bleeding anymore. You were right, it looked worse than it was.”
“Head wounds can be like that.”
“Do you have your phone?”
Frank groaned, having avoided acknowledging the frustration about this from the moment he’d heard the first gunshot. “No. Right before I came here tonight, my daughter spilled nail polish remover all over it… fried it.”
Karen’s head quirked. “You have a daughter.”
“Yeah,” Frank looked away, seeming shy, and Karen melted just a little bit. “She was watching one of those goddamn youtube tutorials… I have a son, too.”
Karen took note the moment she met Frank that he wasn’t wearing a wedding band. Learning of his family made the investigator in her want to ask a thousand questions… but right now they had way more pressing issues.
She lowered her hands to his shoulders and shook her head. “So, we have no phone. Frank… what are we going to do?”
Frank watched her face for a moment before he brought his hands to her hips, squeezing gently before nudging her out of the way so he could stand.
“Well, Karen Page… it looks like you and me, we’re gonna have to kick some ass.”