VENDETTA

Part IV

By Tobias Christopher

Previously, Frank Castle learned he had a long lost son being raised by mob boss Don Martoni, a man whom Frank had served in the military with. Martoni offered Frank an exchange: his son for wiping out the rival Ritoli family. Frank agreed and went on a spree to wipe out the Ritoli’s, one of the city’s biggest mob families, intent on reclaiming the son he never knew.

The Punisher struck every aspect of the Ritoli’s business, killing two sons and letting one remorseful son escape with his life. Frank took down the Ritoli family one by one until only Vic Ritoli and a handful of men remained.

But soon after breaking into the Ritoli mansion, Frank was taken down by Ritoli’s top bodyguard, Anya…

The Ritoli Mansion

Frank Castle had killed thousands of men in his career as the Punisher. He’d killed murderers, rapists, drug dealers, slavers, child pornographers and every type of criminal in between. The mission was always clear: Get the job done, no matter what the cost.

This time, the cost was far too high to not succeed. If Frank failed, his flesh and blood would pay the price. If Don Martoni were allowed to raise young Benji into manhood, the boy would most likely fall into a world of corruption and drugs. A world where his biological father would one day be faced with the task of removing yet another criminal from the streets through violence.

Frank Castle could live with being tortured, as he was being currently by Vic Ritoli and his men. Being cut and having salt rubbed into the wound, having lit cigarettes burned on his skin, and various other torture methods were all things Frank was used to at this point.

But knowing that one-day he might be forced with the task of killing his own son? That’s what was making Frank truly suffer.

“You never killed Joey Martoni at all,” Frank stated as Ritoli looked at him.

“Kill him? He made my daughter happy,” Ritoli replied with a sigh. “I paid for the wedding, even sent them out of the country to keep them safe. It was Don Martoni who swore he’d kill Joey for betraying the family. I wanted peace, Martoni wanted blood. I’d do anything for my little girl and Joey Martoni treated her with respect. Men like that are impossible to find.”

“I knew that fat fuck was hiding something,” Frank said as he struggled with his bonds.

“More than you realize,” Ritoli told him. “The boy, Joshua, is not his. Had him kidnapped at birth. Made Joey think the boy was sold on the black market while Martoni raised him in secret. He is a crafty one.”

“Crafty enough to spend eight years trying to bait me,” Frank said to himself, kicking himself for not piecing it together sooner.

“Not that it matters. You killed my sons,” Ritoli said as he paced around in front of Frank. “You killed my bodyguards. You killed my clients. You invade my home with the intent of killing me. Did you honestly think you’d get away with it?”

“It’d be dumb to say ‘yes’ now, wouldn’t it?” Frank asked as Ritoli smacked him as hard as he could.

“Insolent little bitch,” Ritoli said angrily. “Just the sight of you makes me want to kill you horrifically. Believe me, I will, I just want it done right. I can only kill you once, and it has to be done perfectly.”

“Just do what you’re going to do,” Frank told him in low tone. “And stop wasting my fucking time already.”

Ritoli grabbed Frank by the face and looked into his eyes. “I promise you your suffering has only just begun. In the meantime, I offer you one final request before you’re in too much pain to think straight. Perhaps a few minutes of pleasure with one of my top whores? Or some of the finest powder in my possession?”

“A drink and a smoke would be perfect,” Frank told him. “Man’s gotta go happy.”

“Very well,” Ritoli replied as he motioned for his men. “Untie Mr. Castle so he can enjoy his final moments.”

The guards looked nervously as their boss. They’d heard tales of what Frank Castle could do to them.

“Don’t worry,” Ritoli said calmly as he looked around. “After all, he’s unarmed and surrounded by several armed men. It’s not like he has a chance to escape.”

The men uneasily untied Frank as he felt his wrists, which were slightly bleeding from the tight binds.

“This is how it ends, Mr. Castle,” Ritoli said as the men brought Frank a cigarette and a flask of the strongest stuff in Ritoli’s cabinet. “You’ve killed how many men?”

“9,996,” Frank casually said, like it were a proud accomplishment. The cigarette in his hand was lit as he held it between two fingers. “You know, it’s kind of funny. Even without Martoni blackmailing me into doing this, I was still coming for you. As a matter of fact, you’re the reason I came here in the first place.”

“Really?” Ritoli asked his interest piqued. “Then I’ll give you one shot at me, Mr. Castle. Just one before the suffering begins. Take your best shot. In your weakened condition, what can you do, give me a black eye? Kick me in the knee?”

Frank took a long swig of the flask while looking at Ritoli. He paused and spit every drop of it on Ritoli’s face and shirt.

“That’s it?” Ritoli asked in amusement as his men laughed. “That’s the best the great Frank Castle can do to me?”

“No,” Frank replied as he looked down. “This is.”

Frank flicked the lit cigarette into Ritoli’s face, igniting the alcohol. The man screamed in pain as his men paused to look in horror, giving Frank the chance he needed to get close enough to the first guard, elbow him in the face and grab his gun.

“You idiots!” Anya shouted as the men started firing, while Ritoli was rolling around trying to put the fire out that was physically scarring him. Frank ducked behind some crates after firing off some shots. Frank aimed and fired, hitting one man right in the forehead, killing him instantly.

Ritoli started to crawl up the stairs as the fire that had melted his skin had subsided. He was in intense pain and horribly scarred as his men covered his getaway. They continued firing at Frank. They were in a standoff until Frank looked over at the circuit box sitting in front of him. He quickly pulled the lever, bringing sudden darkness to the room.

Two loud snaps were heard before the lights came back on, as the last two men were lying on the ground with their necks broken. One was in front of Frank and the other laying in front of Anya.

“Aren’t you supposed to be killing me instead of your boss’s lackeys?” Frank asked her.

“Yes, but not like this,” Anya told him as she eyed his scarred chest, which carried the wounds of the war he’d carried since that fateful day in Central Park. “I know all about you, Mr. Castle. I’ve never met a man as…powerful as you. To die like this would be such a waste.”

“What are you saying?” Frank asked her as he pulled on his torn shirt with the skull on it.

“I want to fight you,” Anya told him. “In a clean, no holds barred fight. I want the pleasure of killing you.”

“Whatever floats your boat, lady,” Frank said as he noticed Ritoli was gone, the trail of blood leading up the stairs. “But what makes you think I’m not going to kill you right here?”

“Because,” Anya said as she got closer to him. “I know you want this, Mr. Castle. Killing these lowlife drug dealers isn’t a challenge to you. You need something real to fight.”

Anya leaned in and kissed him. “In one year, I’ll come find you for our date.”

She tucked a cell phone into his pocket and smiled at him. “I’ll contact you with the information. Now, go on, finish what you started.”

Frank didn’t think he could trust Anya, but something was telling him she was right. He needed a good fight; something that would really challenge him…provided he lived to see such a fight. He grabbed a gun and rushed up the stairs as Anya smirked. If she hurried she could grab her passport and be out of the country soon. She had a lot of training to catch up on.

Vic Ritoli was in too much pain to think clearly. He was crawling outside in the grass, trying to make it to his car. His face had been horrifically scarred and he knew his men couldn’t keep the Punisher at bay for long.

Frank saw the man crawling along and took off the safety on his gun. Ritoli looked up in time to see The Punisher standing over him.

“Get ready for a family reunion,” Frank said flatly as he aimed the gun.

BANG!

Dear Watson Elementary School, the Next Day

The old gray haired teacher sat behind the desk of her fifth grade class. Today was the day when her students gave reports on what their fathers did for a living. The day she dreaded because she had to hear the jobs of the men who had careers that didn’t involve teaching children who were going to end up working fast food for the rest of their lives, despite her lessons.

“My dad’s in the army, so he’s away a lot,” A red haired little girl said. “Mom says the guy who cleans our pool is substitute Dad while he’s away.”

“My dad’s an alcoholic,” a little blonde haired boy said as he took his turn. “Does recycling beer bottles count as a job?”

“My dad’s a corporate raider,” a little brunette girl said as she stood at the front of the class. “He makes other people unemployed so I can afford pretty new dresses.”

“I don’t know what my dad does,” a boy with light brown hair said as he faced his classmates. “But I heard my mom say he was something called a ‘Fluffer’.”

Then it was Benji Martoni’s turn. The boy stood at the front of his class and looked at his male friends and the girls he’d one day find himself attracted to.

“My dad’s a powerful businessman,” Benji told them. “When he talks, everyone listens. Everyone respects him, even the Punisher, who was at my house the other day.”

The class let out a collective “Ooooh”. The Punisher was something that Benji and his friends talked about constantly, his exploits always making the news, how he always took out the bad guys. They were too young to know exactly what the Punisher did, but he did know that the man was cool.

“Thank you, Benji,” the teacher told him. “Sarah, it’s your turn.”

“I don’t have a daddy,” the little girl replied from her seat. “I have two mommies.”

Most of the boys sitting around the girl’s desk leaned in a little closer to her. Her home would get a lot of offers to mow the lawn and work around the house this coming summer.

The limo driver arrived to pick up Joshua and Benji after school. It was right on time as always. The two boys climbed into the back of the limo, talking about the camp out they were going to have.

“Mr. Driver, can we stop off and get something to eat?” Benji asked. “I missed lunch because I forgot to carry my lunch money.”

The black window separating the driver from the boys rolled down just enough for a grenade to be tossed onto the floor, emitting a knock out gas. The boys started coughing and were soon unconscious.

The Martoni Mansion

A picture on Don Martoni’s desk showed a slim, healthy young man in uniform, proudly serving his military. The picture was only a half-truth. The young man in the picture was a sociopath killer who took many innocent lives on his tour of duty. Until that young man crossed Frank Castle one night. What followed after that was a downward spiral, in which the young man would turn to food and violence, turning him into the grotesquely fat man sitting at his desk currently.

“Where the hell is my entree?” Martoni asked through the intercom. “Incompetent chef, I’ll have your balls for this!”

His food was brought in minutes later. Rigatoni smothered in Alfredo sauce, one of his favorites. Martoni started inhaling the food at a rapid pace as Frank walked in with a duffle bag in his hand.

“Frank, I’ve been expecting you,” Martoni told him, his face smeared in Alfredo sauce. Frank realized the fat bastard wasn’t even taking the time to swallow. “I heard you ran into some trouble.”

“The Ritoli’s are dead,” Frank said as he opened the duffle bag, tossing Ritoli’s bloody tie onto the table. “All of them. Now, where’s my son?”

“Benji should be arriving home anytime now,” Martoni told him. “But unfortunately, you won’t be here. Did you honestly think I’d send him off with you?”

“No,” Frank calmly replied. “I didn’t. I have given it a lot of though and I have found Benji a place where I know he’ll be safe.”

Martoni laughed at him. “He’s safe here, Frank, unless I decide to kill him for the satisfaction of seeing you suffer.”

Martoni held the detonator in his chubby hand. “Do you really wish to lose another child?”

“No,” Frank said as he reached into his duffle bag. He tossed Benji and Joshua’s sneakers onto the table, which held the explosives Martoni had told him about. “That’s why they’re in a safe house right now with fresh clothes, food and video games.”

Frank saw Martoni sweat and wondered if it was from fear or moving too quickly.

“Perhaps we can come to sort of arrangement,” Martoni told him as he reached for a gun inside of his desk and fired. Frank quickly ducked and rolled behind a large leather chair. Martoni’s wheelchair beeped as he came out from behind his desk. “You robbed me of my legs. You robbed me of my honor and dignity!”

“You slaughtered a refugee camp,” Frank replied as he reached into his pocket for his secret weapon. “Innocent men, women and children. There’s no honor in killing innocent people.”

“The great Punisher talking about morality,” Martoni laughed as he came closer towards Frank. “I’ll find Benji and I’ll make him suffer as you watch.”

Frank came out from behind the chair and tackled the fat man, knocking him out of his chair. A lifetime of pain and suffering was evident in Frank’s face as he punched the man who was intent on killing the last innocent piece of him to exist.

“You know, those T-38’s are really great,” Frank told him as he held up a detonator of his own. “In fact, if hidden well enough, a gluttonous cow like you could probably swallow a good ten of them and not even realize it.”

That’s why his food was late, Martoni realized, Frank had been in the kitchen before coming to see him. Martoni’s eyes went wide as Frank pushed the button.

“Bon appetit, mother fucker.”

Frank dived behind the chair as the explosives in Martoni’s stomach went off, causing him to explode, sending internal organs, bones and blood flying everywhere. He’d made his 10,000th kill a good one, all right.

Three Months Later

The Frisbee landed in the sand on the Hawaiian beach as Joshua Martoni picked it up. “Benji, go long!”

The boy’s shaggy blonde hair blew in the winds as he tossed the Frisbee to his brother Benji, who ran up the beach to catch it. Benji was starting to look more like his biological father every day, only without the pain and anguish in his father’s features.

“Boys, dinner,” Joey Martoni said as he stood on the porch of a cozy little beach front home, watching them play together. Neither boy knew about Don Martoni’s true fate. They just knew that he had passed on from a heart attack and their Uncle Joey and his wife had agreed to take them in.

The family had settled onto a beach in the Hawaiian islands with a note to Joey from an *anonymous* source telling him everything. Joey wanted nothing to do with his brother’s dirty dealings, and was making an honest life for his family now. The two boys would be raised properly and learn how to be their own men, outside of the mob’s dealings.

Joey’s wife wrapped her arms around him as they watched their boys playing carelessly in the sand, none of them ever realizing that the man they should thank for their family was Frank Castle.

A run-down bar in Atlanta

Frank took a drink of the ginger ale in his hand as he heard the news report from the mounted television on the wall. A serial killer was on the loose in Washington.

Frank took out his wallet and looked down at the picture of Benji he’d taken from Martoni’s home, the only keepsake he had of his son. He knew exactly where Benji was and he was going to take steps to make sure no one ever knew of his connection to the boy. If nothing else, he could make sure that Benjamin Anthony Martoni would lead a good life with his family.

“Be safe, kid,” Frank silently said as he stood up and exited the bar.

The cup on the counter was half full.