PREVIOUSLY: A serial killer has been preying on victims in Washington, removing their faces as souvenirs before killing them. When the Punisher decided to investigate, he was ambushed, but was rescued by a young man named Chip, whose best friend had been claimed by the Jester

While trying to prevent the killer from claiming another victim, Frank’s friend James Griffen had been shot, along with his daughter Jasmine, and both ended up comatose in the hospital and unable to be witnesses to clear the Punisher’s name, who’d been named the prime suspect in the killings.

After being arrested for the crime the Punisher, along with Chip, deduced that the Jester had been possessed by a demon and set out to figure out a way to stop this supernatural killer before he strikes again…

SMILE, DARN YA, SMILE

Part IV

By Tobias Christopher

It had been raining lightly off and on all night long, just enough to cover the streets to make them shinier than usual; not that the rain bothered Frank Castle as he barely paid attention to the weather anymore. The rain had just stopped as Frank and another young man, Chip Carter, arrived outside of the church they’d been searching for. The doors to the old church opened, giving off a loud echoing creek, as the Punisher stepped inside, followed by Chip, who looked around. Neither man had set foot inside of a church in several years, although neither likely could have guessed it was for practically the same reason.

“Didn’t know you were the type to even know where a church was,” said Chip sarcastically as they walked down the aisle. His clothes were rain soaked and he was shoeless, his shoes having been left at the police station after the laces had been used to bind the officers to the cell bars. His socks were soaked all the way through after having to walk through several puddles trying to keep up with Frank and the young man was freezing, although he tried not to show it.

“I was going to be a priest after the war before…things changed,” replied Frank as they were met by an old priest who looked as if he should have been long retired and who didn’t seem fazed by the heavily armed man. There was no way they could have known that the priest had followed the Punisher’s career since the first time Frank Castle’s name made the news, so many years ago.

“This is the house of the Lord; you cannot bring those weapons in here,” the old man said as Frank disarmed himself willingly, setting his weapons on the pew next to him. He wasn’t about to fight an old man over a few handguns…and grenades…and knives… “What brings you here? Do you wish to seek forgiveness for your sins?”

“Not today,” said Frank bluntly as he looked at the man. “We need holy water, a cross, and whatever else that can be used as a weapon.”

“We’re hunting a demon,” Chip meekly replied as he stood there, ashamed of his own sins. He stared down at his rain soaked clothes, expecting the priest to turn them away.

The old priest looked at Frank. “I remember you. Yes, years ago, back in Hell’s Kitchen. I was just a pastor then, but I never forget a face, even when that face has turned to a life of sin.”

“We’re running out of time,” said Frank, changing the subject. He remembered the kindly old priest now; he was only the beacon of hope in an otherwise dark place in Frank’s childhood. “There’s a killer loose and more people are going to die if we can’t stop him.”

There was a brief pause as the priest turned toward the altar. “Follow me. And know that I’ve prayed for your soul ever since I learned what became of you, Francis.”

James Griffen had been through hell several times. Whether it was fighting in wars overseas or being married to four different women, James Griffen knew how to deal with pain. But if you wanted to really make the man angry, try going after his daughter. Then not even being shot and taking a fall down a flight of stairs could keep the old FBI agent down.

“Fuck this shit,” Griffen said as he fought with the tending nurses roughly two minutes after waking up. His shoulder had been treated and bandaged and the man was refusing painkillers, which would only slow him down. “I’ve got a killer slicing people up, now someone get me my fuckin’ clothes and my gun!”

“Don’t worry, they caught the Punisher,” FBI Director Dick Miller told Griffen as he sat at his bedside, not hearing the news of the escape just yet. “It’s all under control.” “The Punisher’s innocent,” Griffen replied as he started pulling the IV out. “It’s some guy in a clown suit that’s going around slicing people’s faces off. He’s still out there and he’s the one who tried to kill my baby.”

“Fine, I’ll get a sketch artist in here and you can give him the description,” Miller said, standing up. “In the meantime, get some rest. You’ve still been shot and need time to recover.”

“What I need is time to kick this guy’s ass,” replied Griffen as he looked up the director.

Frank got the holy water and cross while Chip was getting a weapon of his own. Frank looked at the old priest as he geared up; it had been at least twenty years since Frank had seen the old man, their last meeting having been the night before he joined the Marine Corps.

“For what it’s worth, you were the reason I wanted to get into the priesthood,” said Frank as he picked up his other weapons and overcoat. That was back before the Marine Corps called for his services, the first time Frank felt a real sense of duty.

“Then why embark on this horrible life?” asked the priest, his eyes pleading with Frank. “I beg of you: give up this sinful life and turn yourself in. I assure you I will do everything in my power to bring back the man I always knew you could be.”

“That man died years ago,” replied Frank as he headed toward the door. “That man died the day the Castle family was slaughtered in Central Park. I’ll return the cross when we’re done.”

“Keep the cross, you’ll need it,” said the priest, looking for some sign that the young man he’d mentored years earlier in Hell’s Kitchen was still inside of the man before him somewhere. “And remember that it’s never too late to save your soul.”

Without saying a word, the Punisher walked back down the aisle. Chip followed Frank out into the night where a light rainfall had begun once again. A silence fell upon the two men as they walked down the street. Finally the silence was broken as Frank spoke.

“Go home,” Frank finally told the young man as they walked along the street, not knowing where the killer was going to strike next. “You don’t have to be there for this. It’s going to get…violent.”

“This thing took my best friend,” replied Chip as he tried to stay in step with the Punisher. “I owe him some payback.”

“This isn’t the road you want to go down,” said Frank as he continued walking. “Trust me. The road only gets darker. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel following me. It starts with payback on the person who wronged you, then-”

“Then what?” interrupted Chip with a laugh. “I turn into you? There are worse things to be. At least you’re trying to make the world better. Sure, you have a screwed up way of going about it, but-”

The Punisher stopped and looked at him angrily. This kid was too innocent for his own good and the last thing Frank wanted was to see him go down a violent path. He had enough of the blood of the innocent on his hands; he didn’t need another person dying because of his war. “You want to help me? Go home, get on your computer and tell me where this bastard’s going to be. I’m not putting you in the line of fire, especially when you can’t hit a target to save your life.”

“Fine,” replied Chip after a few seconds. The wireless headset Frank had taken earlier was still in his overcoat pocket. “Just…make sure he gets what’s coming to him.”

Sgt. Blokowski was sitting behind his desk, having just chewed out his men for letting the Punisher escape so easily. He knew that something like this would happen eventually after their budget had gotten cut…again. Now he had to explain to the Captain why one of the country’s most wanted men had been able to walk out of the precinct, leaving his men either tied to the bars or unconscious.

The large man sat there feeling a cold chill run down his spine. He looked up, thinking someone was there, but seeing nothing but flickering lights over him and in the hallway.

“Damn wiring, have to call someone in for that in the morning,” said the man, not realizing he was being watched in his own office. Meanwhile, a gas was being filtered through the air vents throughout the precinct that caused everyone it came in contact with to fall over, sleeping peacefully so the Jester could work uninterrupted.

Chip had returned to his apartment and, after digging through the closet, found a pair of Connor’s blue sneakers. He slid them on and rushed over to his computer, quickly going through all the information he had as he called Frank up on the wireless headset that had also previously belonged to his dead roommate.

Frank heard a ringing as he walked and put the headset on.

“Frank, he’s killed four more people while we were in lock-up,” Chip said as Frank listened. “I don’t know the order of the rest of the names in that sign-in book after I signed, but I do know that several of the ticket holders were from out of town. That cuts down the list of victims considerably.”

“By how much?” asked Frank as he stopped to listen.

“Not too much, but I’m filtering the list to see who’s in town and who isn’t to determine who this psycho can reach,” replied Chip as he worked furiously on the keyboard. “So far, the best bet is our friend Sgt. Blokowski.”

“So I basically have to walk back into the lion’s den,” muttered Frank as he changed direction and started walking.

“Just keep the wireless on. I’ll try to tap into the security cameras so I can keep an eye out for him,” replied Chip.

As the Punisher cautiously stepped through the Washington PD headquarters, he saw far more damage than he’d caused earlier. All the attending officers were passed out; obviously they’d been gassed, a tactic he’d used before. Frank looked up and saw the remnants of a smoke like substance in the vents, confirming his analysis.

“Son of a bitch,” Frank muttered to himself as he walked along, getting his gun ready. He heard a horrible laughing as he kicked open the door to Blokowski’s office just as the Jester was about to start slicing into Blokowski’s face as the man was laying on the top of his desk and unable to move. Not wasting any time, Frank fired at the villain but the Jester jumped out of the way in time.

“Won’t do you any good, your bullets can’t hurt me!” the Jester laughed as he rushed toward Frank, only to be met by a punch so hard it would shatter any normal man’s nose. The Jester only laughed as his nose reformed from its broken state as Frank just sighed. He was going to have to do this the hard way.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the cross as the Jester laughed insanely at the sight.

“I’m not a vampire, you moron!” he giggled as he grabbed Frank by the throat with one hand and lifted him into the air. Frank pulled his arm back and buried the cross as hard as he could into the Jester’s heart, freeing himself “All right, that hurt a little,” the Jester said as he pulled the cross free.

This guy obviously isn’t going to die easily, thought Frank as he realized he only had one trick left. Frank quickly pulled out the bottle of holy water as the Jester grabbed his arm and punched Frank in the stomach. He then forced Frank’s arm to make him drop the bottle as he picked him up by his shirt and tossed him over the desk.

“The mighty Punisher can’t even kill a simple jester?” the villain laughed, snorting as he did. “I thought you were tough, but you’re just pathetic!”

“I’m watching through the security camera,” Chip told Frank as he sat at his desk after having hacked into the security cameras to watch all the action. “What the hell’s going on?”

“The cross didn’t work,” replied Frank as he punched the Jester, knocking him back into the wall, “and I lost the bottle of holy water.”

“The gun in your right jacket pocket,” said Chip as Frank dodged a blow. “Use it.”

“A handgun’s not going to do anything,” replied Frank as the Jester got a punch in on his stomach that sent him flying across the room, landing him hard against the floor.

“The gun won’t, but the bullets will, trust me,” said Chip as he watched the fight continue, trying not to wince as the Jester struck fast and hard. “I snuck Connor’s gun into your jacket at the church. Use it, it’ll work.”

Frank grabbed the gun as the Jester rushed toward him and he quickly fired off all the rounds, hitting the Jester several times. The bullets struck his chest, each hitting its intended destination. A painful screech was heard as the man fell to his knees, his eyes, mouth and nose bleeding. Black smoke filtered from his mouth, swirling like water circling the drain as the demon’s essence was sent back to hell where it belonged, finally freeing Jonathan Powers once and for all, leaving him to pay for the demon’s crimes. He started gasping for air as Frank watched in astonishment, unaware that the other officers were starting to come to.

“What the hell was on those bullets?” asked Frank.

“I dipped them in holy water and covered them with some salt I found in the priest’s office,” replied Chip as he watched the Jester fall. “Just as a failsafe.”

The Jester collapsed to the ground as Frank stood over him, his other gun drawn. He was about to fire a round into the Jester to finish him off when one of the officers who’d just woken up pointed his gun at Frank.

“Put the gun down!” the officer shouted, wanting to be a hero once he brought the Punisher back to his cell.

“Get ready to move,” said Chip as he tapped into mainframe, cutting off the power to the police station. When it came back on Frank was gone, leaving the carnage to be cleaned up by the police. Chip sat back in his apartment, wondering if that was going to be the last he saw of the Punisher.

At the hospital the next morning, Griffen hugged his daughter tightly as both were released. Griffen’s arm was in a sling, but other than that the two were perfectly fine.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” said Griffen as he held onto his precious little girl.

“I’d be dead if that man hadn’t come to save me,” replied Jasmine as they headed for the car. She wasn’t about to admit it but she found it attractive that the guy had been willing to risk his life to save her.

“The kid who shot me?” asked Griffen as he saw Frank standing in the shadows. “Er, excuse me, baby, I’ll be right back.”

As Jasmine climbed into the car, Griffen walked over and found Frank waiting for him where they wouldn’t be spotted.

“Saw the news,” said Griffen as the two men stood there. He’d been working from his hospital bed to get both the police and the FBI to back off Frank so they could focus on the true killer. “Good job getting rid of the bastard.”

“I didn’t,” replied Frank. “He’s still alive. I’d finish the job but he’s under maximum security until he wakes up…if he wakes up. Six bullets and a cross through the heart and the fucker’s still breathing.”

“Well, whenever he does wake up, we’re going to make sure that thing never takes possession of him again,” promised Griffen as he stared over at his daughter. “So, you leaving town now?”

“There’s still a war out there,” replied Frank as the two men shook hands. “I’ll be in contact. Take care of yourself.”

Griffen turned to go back to his car. When he turned around at the door he found Frank had already disappeared back into the darkness, which was when Griffen realized that his daughter was the one thing keeping him from becoming just like his old friend.

Chip was shocked to find the Punisher standing on the other side of his door but the realized Frank had left a few guns behind. As Frank started retrieving his weapons Chip knew it was now or never. As Frank had finished washing off the cross he’d retrieved from police security and placing it into his bag, Chip stood up.

“I want to come with you,” said Chip meekly.

“No,” Frank simply replied as he headed to the door.

“But I can help you,” argued Chip as he stood there. “And…I think you could really use me. I mean, I’m an expert computer hacker and I can get you info and schematics in a heartbeat-”

“And make yourself a target at the same time,” replied Frank as he turned to look at the young man. “I’m not dragging you into this life, kid. You don’t deserve it. Stay in school, get a good career, marry, have kids, whatever. But I’m not having your blood on my hands.”

“Frank, I-” started Chip as he ran his hand through his hair. “I need this. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever cared about. My family, Connor, I have nothing. I just want…to help people. Like you.”

“I kill people for a living,” Frank sternly replied. “I murder criminals. I wipe out the lowlifes. This isn’t the life for someone like you.”

“You think I can’t handle that,” realized Chip. “You think I give a damn about murderers and drug dealers? I’ve watched guys like the people you kill take away everyone I’ve ever cared about. My parents, my friend, my baby brother who wasn’t even six months old. Give me a chance, I want to do this.”

Frank looked back at the young man, seeing the pain in his face. Hearing he’d lost more than just his best friend to violence made Frank rethink the situation. Leaving him on his own might make something worse of him, like the three loons who started killing in the Punisher’s name at one point that had fallen to him to deal with. But there was only way to tell if Chip Carter could handle this life. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, he wrote down an address.

“Be at this pub in Hell’s Kitchen exactly two months from now,” said Frank as he put the paper down into Chip’s hand. “I want you to take these next two months and learn everything you can about me. Who I am, what I’ve done, who I’ve killed. I want you to know every last gory detail of what this life involves. Leave no stone unturned when it comes to me.”

Chip looked down at the paper as Frank continued. “Then I want you to look up a man named Linus Lieberman. I want you to see who he was, how he died and the incredibly stupid thing he did to get himself killed by my gun.”

That was when the look on Frank’s face changed to something to be feared. “Because if you do join me on this, know that if you screw me over in any way, no matter how close you think you are to me…if I find out that you’re dirty or in any way corrupt, if you fuck me over or jeopardize this war in any way, I will not hesitate to kill you. I want you to remember all of this over the next two months before you even think about setting foot in Hell’s Kitchen.”

Frank turned toward the door and took one last look at the young man. “If you don’t show, I won’t think you’re a coward. If you don’t come…stay clean, kid. You’re one of the good ones. Keep it that way so I don’t have to come back and find you…because that’s the last thing you want.”

And with that the Punisher was gone, having moved on to find his next mission. Chip slumped back in his chair, now having a life changing decision to make.

FBI Headquarters
Later That Day

“Tell Griffen that he has to rest, that’s an order,” Director Miller told his secretary as he walked past her towards his office. “I don’t want to see him in this place for the next week.”

“Yes, sir,” the secretary said. “Oh, a package arrived for you while you were out.”

Miller looked at the name on the address and smirked. The information was false, but he knew who’d sent it. “See to it that I’m not disturbed.”

The man carried the package into his office, closing and locking the door behind him. He opened the box and found a videotape. Putting it into the VCR, he sat back as an overweight man appeared on the screen sitting in a motorized wheelchair.

“Hello to all of my associates,” Don Martoni said as he looked into the camera. “If you’re watching this, then I’m dead and it’s by the Punisher’s hand. I’ve had this recording made because I know that son of a bitch is going to double cross me, but the last laugh’s going to be on him.”

Miller leaned forward, interested in what the man who’d been paying him to keep the FBI from interfering in the Martoni’s business for years had to say.

“The Punisher’s interfered with us for far too long,” continued Martoni as other associates to his crime family watched at various places throughout the country, each of whom had received the same tape as Miller. In California, a longtime mob boss watched as he looked out the window to see a teenage boy with reddish blonde hair who resembled a younger version of Chip playing football in the yard with his friends. “But the man can’t be stopped; it’s as if he has no weakness.”

In upper New York, young mob boss Nicky Cavella watched and wondering where Martoni was going with this. He had yet to meet the Punisher, but he’d heard the tales.

“But he does have one, and I’m going to tell you what it is…”

In Chicago, a woman with blonde hair had intercepted the tape, which wasn’t meant for her since she’d gone rogue after Martoni’s death. She listened closely as the dead mob boss revealed the Punisher’s Achilles’ heal.

“He has a son.”

Anya smiled as she watched the remainder of the tape and knew she had to act fast to win the race to find young Benjamin Martoni before the others who’d soon be searching for him.