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What would it be like to never exist? That was life for Danica, her birth was never recorded and she was kept prisoner in her own home. Her father being one of the most dangerous mafia leaders in...
The old man took one more puff from his cigar, then sat forward to extinguish it in the small ashtray that sat on his mahogany desk. His gray hair and wrinkles made him look much older than his years. His face shows no emotion but I can sense fear.
"I have only one job for you and that's to find the snitch within the family." He said as the last puff of smoke rolled out his mouth. He held my calling card between his fingers and tapped it on his desk.
I sat back and crossed my arms. "I'll be your eyes and ears, but remember this will cost you," I said.
"Name your price." He said.
"I believe I'll think about that, but it'll be hefty," I said.
He stood as I did just before I heard the roaring engine of a motorcycle pull up in front of the large home.
"My daughter is off limits, your room will be on the second floor, and you're not permitted on the third floor. When you return, Isaac will show you to your room and go over the rules inside this family. Break one rule and you'll never see the light of day." He threatened.
"I believe you've forgotten who I am." I narrowed my eyes at him.
"I do believe knowing your true identity gives me the upper hand, Punisher." He tried to remind me.
"Either that, or you're just another liability." I stood my ground.
He opened his office door. "Dinner is at seven prompt and I suggest not being late. My wife doesn't have much patience for tardiness." He said.
He walked me to the door of his massive mansion that sits on a compound containing several acres of land and guards watching every single inch. I reached for the handle of my car while I kept an eye on what is happening around me, until my concentration was broken.
Black leather looked as if it hugged every square inch of the gorgeous curves of a woman's body. She pulled off her helmet, and black hair fell like satin down her back. I had to blink a few times just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. She hung her helmet off the handlebar and swung her leg over the bike to stand.
I looked around to see if any of the guards are seeing this, but none even looked in her direction. She put her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and didn't bother to look in my direction, before she walked into the fortress of a home. A small grin formed on my face before I got into my Camero and drove away. I still can't believe I saw something so intriguing. I waved to the guard as I pulled out and headed to my apartment to start packing.
My phone rang, so I answered it. "I'm in," I said.
"Good, was the old man suspicious?" He asked.
"No, everything you faked online worked, and it won't be long until we've got him. The Punisher is a ghost to these people," I said.
"There's a package at your place with everything you need. Study the file twice before you go. Remember, right now, you're looking for the informant." He said.
"I'll check in at 1600 hours tomorrow," I said, and the line dropped.
I stepped into my fake apartment I've used for a few days, but as far as anyone knows, I've lived here a year. Whoever our informant is, he's doing a fine job setting this up, but he doesn't know I'll be searching for him to learn if he is credible.
I packed up several suits along with every form of protection I have, and even counted my ammo. I left most of my belongings at the compound in Virginia, which isn't much. I've lived this way since my death several years ago. As far as my mother, father, and the rest of my family ever knew, I was buried at Arlington Cemetery in Washington D.C. This was never the life I planned, but that's what happens when a Navy Seal sees the wrong things. We're recruited to a very elite program with the CIA and forced to leave what we love behind. We get the dirtiest and most dangerous jobs done. They call us the Four Horsemen.
I had to leave my greatest love behind to mourn my death. Megan was my fiancé, who is now married to a banker and pregnant with their third child after twins. I hate it, and I miss her dearly.
I'm not sure how my story will end, but most men in my position don't meet a happy ending. I was promised after this case I would be released and have earned my freedom, but I've heard those promises to men before. They never lived to see that day come. I suppose this will be my last case, but whether I walk away alive, or simply buried in my actual grave, hasn't yet been written.
I took a few minutes to study the file again. I've done this several times, but this man is very secretive. His name is Salvatore Ravello and he hired me, The Punisher.
The Punisher is a nickname made up over a year ago as the mysterious hunter and assassin born as a rumor among American crime families. I'm a ghost that was planted in their minds as someone to fear. We took out a few members of these families and 'The Punisher' got credit because I left my calling card. Ravello has been dealing arms in trade of drugs with the Mexican Cartel. He is one of the most dangerous crime bosses in history. Even his wife is known to be cruel when seeing a man to his end.
He has children, but they have been untouchable until now. His son is now climbing the ranks and taking his place next to his father. There is no record of them, as they must have been kept a secret by the criminal genius himself. We've only heard rumors of another son, but no daughters. This is why I was curious when he said to stay away from his daughter.
I emptied the contents of the box left for me. A new burner phone, a few bottles of drugs in case someone needs to be silenced, more fake identification, and a few more calling cards.
I held the card in my hand, but it only shows the punisher image, and it's what was left on the bodies of the men we took out. That's how we created the phantom the mafia fears most.
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