2013-01-30 Running Afoul of The Punisher

Another day, another dollar. That is how the saying goes. But in the case of Catwoman it should 'another night, another job'. This one brought her back to NYC, a city she has had very little luck in, a job that should be easy enough to not require much in the way of skill or luck.
The target: a small time crook's personal office to fetch some files off of his computer. The entry was easy-peasy, just how she likes it when she isn't in the mood for a challenge, and his office easily found. Standing before the man's desk, she pulls out a flash drive from a small pouch while the computer is being booted up.
Another night, another dead body. That's actually how the saying goes in the seedier districts of New York and Gotham, but who really pays attention to those areas? Not the news and for surely not the great heroes of these times. No, these areas are left to the vigilantes, some more ruthless than others...
Moving in the shadows of the night Frank Castle has figured this to be an easy job, he'll just go in to this here building and grab a few bytes of intel on a local bookie that he needs addresses from. Too easy, or just easy enough to bring along his trusty 1911 on his hip and an M4 slung on his back.
Kicking in the backdoor to the office Frank backpedals into a nearby shadow and waits for anyone wanting to make an exit.
The building is only several stories with the office being on the first floor, meaning it's more than easy for Catwoman to hear the door when it's busted in like it is. It's startling enough to cause her heart to leap into her throat and her hands to grow sweaty. "Damnit."
The monitor is looked at just as the slow, near-antiquaited computer finally finishes booting up and the thumb drive is shoved into the port, Selina thanking her stars that the old thing has USB-capibilities. A low, quiet, steady progression of beeps sounds while the drive is recognized as a piece of hardware and then the race is on, Selina hurrying to find those files.
After a short wait Frank smirks to himself as he moves from the shadows and to the fatal funnel that is the doorway. Edging the door with his eyes he lifts his 1911 to the low ready and heads into the building, searching the immediate entranceway for an assailant. Finding none Frank surveys the room he's entered, which by the looks of things is merely a back hall to a rundown office building, with a couple of old cups of coffee strewn about and a vending machine that likely hasn't been serviced since the economy was up. Frank holsters his weapon and mutters to himself, "Too easy..."
Turning back to the broken door Frank closes whats left and then makes a move down a darkened hallway, searching for office 9 and the small piece of intel he came for.
85%... 87%... 90%...
Took Catwoman awhile but she finally found the files and got the download started, that a much faster process than everything else leading up to that point.
99%... Download Complete.
Hersn almost-explosive exhale of air leaves Selina who is quick to snatch the drive, turn the computer off and leaves the way she came. The hallway is entered just as the taller man makes his way in, that causing her to wince. So much for good luck. "I am on my way out," she explains while lifting one hand, the other held at her hip so she can pocket the tiny item she has in it. "No need for a fight, right?"
85%... 87%... 90%...
Took Catwoman awhile but she finally found the files and got the download started, that a much faster process than everything else leading up to that point.
99%... Download Complete.
An almost-explosive exhale of air leaves Selina who is quick to snatch the drive, turn the computer off and leaves the way she came. The hallway is entered just as the taller man makes his way in, that causing her to wince. So much for good luck. "I am on my way out," she explains while lifting one hand, the other held at her hip so she can pocket the tiny item she has in it. "No need for a fight, right?"
Flicking open his holster Frank stops his usual quickdraw and says in a surprised tone as eyes the cat lady before him, "Just cause they're letting women into the fucking infantry doesn't mean you're all soldiers now, even if you've got yourself a nice little uniform..." Frank's smirk widens as he angles himself into the middle of the hallway and adds, "I'm not looking for a fight either, but it looks like we're both trying to get the same shit from the same guy." Frank points to the opened door behind his new costumed friend, "Office nine, low-level guy named Avalon? Yeah, I need his contacts too. What're you doing here?"
"Office 9, guy named Avalon," Selina echoes, her tone amused. "Same guy. Sounds like we're here for the same reason as well. His office is right behind me. I left the files intact. They're buried in an encrypted folder that's in a directory of old family pictures." See? She's helpful and still not doing anything that can be considered a threat. Heck, she's not even moving towards her whip. "Now, the question is are you going to let me go or are we going to get into a pissing match and start behaving poorly?"
Frank rubs his stubbled chin and offers his two cents, "Well, I don't like cats that much, especially when they piss outside their box, so a pissing match is out, but euthanasia is pretty popular in these parts. Critters and criminals overpopulate this area and you look like you fit both of those pretty well and I'm renowned for this sort of thing." Frank fingers his holster and then adds, "I'm not wrong about this kind of shit too often, so I think you can figure out where this is headed unless you're going to give me something valuable I can use about this Avalon guy and his contacts which are much more interesting." Frank slides his overcoat off and figures he's at a serious disadvantage when it comes to mobility, but who brings a whip to a gunfight anyways?
"You really don't want to fight me, especially seeing as how you want what I know." Selina walks up a little closer, both hands free now, the small device having been put away on the sly. "Avalon is part of a small racketeering ring. It's fronted by a man who is not referred to by name but is rather noticed in the contacts as R. He's someone pretty powerful." As she nears she reaches out, seeking to run fingers down the man's well muscled torso. "We can work together, you know. The two of us." The gun's noticed but not given more than a quick glance, her eyes held to his face otherwise.
Frank feigns backing off and then grabs the wrist of his cat lady friend, "You're not exactly my type." Frank turns his body away as to shield his opened holster saying, "You run around like a kid. You probably haven't seen shit. Someone was probably mean to you recently in your short life and your best friend was a fucking kitty and now you're a cat lady chasing mice in shitholes like this." Frank eyes over the costume and then adds , "You're dressed like a cat, if you really had something important to do, you'd do it with your real face in the paper...."
And that is what brings Catwoman up short. "I haven't seen shit," she utters while a knot forms in her throat, her body tensing in anger. "Let's see. I watched my drunken father beat my mother until she killed himself and then watched him die as a result of his alcoholism two years later. As a teen I grew up on the streets of Gotham where I watched people be killed or die of over-doses... no, you're right. I haven't seen shit." Turning, she starts to leave, her stricken expression hidden as her back faces him now. "As for cats? They're so much better than the majority of humans. I do prefer their company over most people."
Frank releases the wrist and then snarls, "I'm not a fucking grief counselor for you people, there's too many costumes to count now and they all have issues." Frank takes his weapon from its holster and points it at the cat lady's back, "Justice is laying you down right here and ending your pain right? I can give you a way out of all the shit you've seen, you can quit punishing yourself for it." Frank cocks the handgun and then adds, "Lets just say it's my way of dealing with all the shit that I've seen."
The sound of a gun being cocked is not one that's unfamiliar to Selina but it doesn't scare her, not like it might others. She doesn't run, she doesn't start to beg for her life. All she does is turn around and stare at Frank with a blank expression. "I don't need a way out. I have come to terms with my life, for the most part." As long as she doesn't have to deal with drunks that make her have flashbacks for days and weeks on end. "I handle things on my own terms and I don't need you to kill me to end my pain. Now... you best go and get your stupid information. I'd say it was nice meeting you..." But it wasn't. Not really.
Frank exhales and then clears the 1911, letting the round hit with a clink and a few words, "I don't think we actually met, but I'm pretty sure I know who you are and I'm pretty sure you know what this is." Frank taps the white skull on his chest with his weapon and then holsters it again saying, "You're not a criminal, just a lost little girl in a catsuit." Frank's face goes flat as the moves out of the hallway into the opened office. He scans the room for anything of note and then rips open the whole tower of the computer, snaking his way to the entire hard drive which he rips out and places in a cargo pocket. Not sure if she's still in the hallway or not Frank calls out, "You're more likely to get hurt out there without a real weapon, you should think about that before hunting for mice!"
"I know of you, yes." The Punisher is someone many who run in certain circles know, either by having ran into him or by reputation, and is a man many wish never to run into. When Frank claims she isn't a criminal she can't help but to quirk an amused smile, her green eyes narrowed at the same time. "Don't worry about my choice in weaponry," she adds as she pats the coil of leather kept on her person. "I have my reasons for carrying the whip like I'm sure you have your reasons for walking around like a one-man armory. But really... it's all semantics at this point. I really should be going. Do take care, handsome."
Stepping out of the office like a mouse would out of his hole Frank peers around both corners and then comes to a hallway of only darkness. Frank shakes his head as he heads down the hallway to his exit, "These people don't ever use doors do they?"
WAR JOURNAL: LVII
Gather intelligence on personnel operating in same AO. Codename, 'CATWOMAN' Female, mid-twenties, alcoholism, suicide, likes whips, more to follow...
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