12159/Opportunities

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Opportunities
Date of Scene: 11 September 2020
Location: East Harlem, Manhattan
Synopsis: The Punisher finishes off a roving gang of thieves, and ends up taking a dozen bullets to save Claire's life, taking a couple in critical areas in the process.
Cast of Characters: Punisher, Claire Temple




Punisher has posed:
The Punisher has been at war with the underworlds of various nations for years now... to the point that he is practically a legend in the news outlets and among the police and criminals of the world. Despite just about the whole world being against him, he never. ever. stops. and his body count is absurd in itself, not even touching just how long he's managed to survive what should have been a lethal lifestyle.

No matter what you think of him, it's clear he knows what he's doing... so it's easy to understand why just about every criminal out there is completely and utterly terrified of being next to be targeted. Unlike Batman, the Punisher is global in his war... and unlike Batman, the Punisher kills without a second thought.

Tonight though... an opportunity has brought him into the Harlem area.

He'd been operating in the Gotham/New York area for weeks now, with a side trip recently down to Florida while he handled a long term operation. A traveling group of thieves Microchip had been tracking had made their way into the region... and the Punisher couldn't pass up the opportunity.

The last ten minutes has had the Punisher pick off the group one by one, silently. They have no idea where the shots keep coming from, and they haven't called the police, since they're wanted themselves.

"This way!" One of them screams as they head for an alleyway at the end of the block. The group of three is all that's left, and all of them have their pistols out, flailing, as they run.

Claire Temple has posed:
Double shifts wear on anyone, especially when it was her third of the week. Claire's normally a bit more aware in this neighborhood, but she's also a local. Most of the gangs know her, know where she works, and she's got that neutrality and respect which is afforded to most medical workers. Usually.

Therefore, she's not watching quite as closely as she probably should. She's walking down from Metro General, headed to her little apartment on the edge of Hell's Kitchen. Her step has that slight sway in it of deep exhaustion and she's got a set of ear buds in. Her work duffle rests across her shoulder and she's still in her scrubs.

The sight of three people running is enough to slightly wake her up out of her post-work exhaustion haze. She blinks, tilting her head to look behind them, trying to figure out what is coming. Then she sees the guns. It might already be to late.

Punisher has posed:
As Claire watches the three, one of them suddenly has their head explode in a shower of gore against a wall; a clean headshot right through the forehead. Claire has no doubt seen it gunshots before, but likely not one that accurate. The man was running wildly for dear life... and was still tagged in an urban area.

"SHIT!" The two remaining have wild panick in their eyes... and one of them suddenly has their eyes on Claire, and holds up the pistol right at her, "DON'T YOU FUCKING MOVE!" He heads over and tries to take her hostage, using her as a body shield. The other one... just goes along with it.

Claire Temple has posed:
That shower of gore is enough to stop her dead in her tracks. Claire Temple has seen her fair share of blood and even a fair bit of gray matters, but never like that. "Fuck...Oh fuck." She breathes out, her crisis responses starting to kick in as she quickly moves to pull back against the wall of one of the street's buildings and get lower.

She's trying to hide from an active shooter, but then someone has a gun on her. She blinks, throat tightening as her hands shoot up, palms forward, a motion of desperate innocence. "I...I didn't do anything! Please, please, don't shoot me... Just... Just let me go. I live here. I'm a nurse. *Please*..."

Punisher has posed:
The body shield taken, the two back up into an alleyway, their backs inside as they seek cover behind a dumpster. Claires pleas are ignored as the free hand keeps on her shoulder. The panicked breathing can easily be heard, the wild observation keeps their eyes on swivels.

"I WAS JUST GONNA GIVE YOU ASSHOLES A CLEAN DEATH, BUT TAKING A HOSTAGE?! THAT EARNS YOU SPECIAL TREATMENT!" A man yells from around the corner at the entry to the alleyway. "DROP THE FUCKIN' GUNS, OR I'M GONNA MAKE SURE THEY FIND YOU BOTH IN PIECES!"

"Who the FUCK ARE YOU?!" The one with the gun to Claire's head demands.

Claire Temple has posed:
Claire has been through training about this. She knows not to fight, try to get a chance to get away but even fast moves could get her shot. So, she just stumbles along with him, trying to keep her own panic under control and her breath even. This isn't a time for panic. She's trembling, however, ever-so-slightly against the man who grabbed her.

As the man uells down the alleyway, her dark eyes jerk to him. Her expression is raw and pleading, not totally able to hide her complete fear at it all. She winces as her hostage keeper screams behind her ear and tightens that gun. "Please, please... it's not worth it..."

Punisher has posed:
A man steps around from around the corner of the alleyway entry. With cropped hair and a rough face, black trenchcoat and a skull vest with some sort of custom looking carbine with a silencer on it, Claire may or may not recognize the Punisher... but she certainly wouldn't recognize the rifle pointed in her direction. "Take a wild guess, punk." the Punisher grates out, icily. "Keep up the bullshit, and I'm gonna make it hurt."

The two behind the dumpster, meanwhile, just sit there. They look at each other, and begin whispering, "That's the fucking PUNISHER. What are we gonna do?" The one holding the gun to Claire can't help but bleed panic into his tone. The other man replies, "If we go out there, we're as good as dead. Maybe he cares about the girl?"

Claire Temple has posed:
Claire knows the stories. One doesn't work a New York City ER without hearing the stories, even without the media coverage. The moment she sees that skull on dark chest, and then that slightly familiar face, she swallows back tighter and just closes her eyes. There's probably know getting out of this alive.

Quietly, mostly to herself but the fear behind her voice is a bit too sharp and stinging to really subvocalize, Claire begins reciting the Hail Mary in Spanish. She's been in a lot of rough scrapes before, but gun to her head against bigger, silenced gun in a murderous vigilante's hands? She doesn't know how this ends with her breathing.

Punisher has posed:
Unfortunately, the Punisher doesn't even give them a chance to discuss, because suddenly a *pop* can be heard... and something lands at their feet. A split second after impact, suddenly the world goes white and deaf as a launched flash grenade goes off right in front of the three.

By the time Claire can see again, the two are dead, knife wounds to the head and neck... and the Punisher is on the ground right in front of her, back up, with two new bullet holes right through his left leg.

By his positioning, she can easily tell he just protected her from gunfire with his body... and he's bleeding out knocked out from it, a small pool of blood already surrounding his leg, with several bullet holes in the back of the trenchcoat.

Seems that body armor works after all.

Claire Temple has posed:
The whole world goes white and hot. For a second, Claire thinks that maybe, just maybe, that was it. She's been shot and it's over. But then her vision comes back and, instead, she's on the alley floor. She blinks slowly a moment, reaching up to touch something sticky on the side of her face. Blood. Gore. Not her's, one of the dead men behind her. Nothing hurts like burning or is numb like shock. She got lucky.

But the man in front of her? Not so much. Claire swears to herself as she sees him out cold there, the angle impossible to ignore those were probably bullets meant for her. She crawls next to him and leans down for her go-bag, dragging it open. A tourniquet to the his leg above the wound. At least she can get the blood stopped. Then she's grabbing at a QuikClot patch and that goes slammed across the closest bullet. Another patch, the second wound. She's in pure field medicine now. "...We have to get you out of here..." She mutters. She knows he'll never survive arrest. They'll toss him on death row.

Punisher has posed:
It's at that moment that a drone comes into view above, just inside the alleyway entry. Claire has likely never seen a military grade recon drone before... but she's seeing one now... and it's hovering.

As she works, she can hear the sound of a vehicle approaching.

Claire Temple has posed:
The drone gets the briefest look but, really, Claire is worried about her patient. With those two clotting bandages and a tie off in place, she reaches down and carefully tries to pull him up into sitting. "Hey, mister, if you don't want to be so much prison meat, you're really gonna have to wake up. I can get you out of here, but I can't carry you." Claire hisses those words, doing her best to rouse him.

Dark eyes then turn towards the street, hearing that vehicle. She mutters a deeper curse and leans over, trying to drag his meaty, tough frame into the darkness. She can at least try to hide him, even if she can't get him to walk.

Punisher has posed:
As the vehicle comes into view, it stops just at the entry. It's a black non-descript van. From the outside, at least.

As Claire has him in hiding, a man comes out of the driver side, coming into view. A pistol of some kind is in his hand, and his face is concealed by a featureless hockey mask... but otherwise, the man looks like anyone else off the street.

His pistol is idled at his side, at least... so there's that.

"I don't know who you are miss, but you seem like you're trying to help him. Get him in the van. I'm Microchip, his partner." The man states as he comes near. "You don't need to worry about me. Frank saved you, that's good enough for me."

Claire Temple has posed:
"Dammit, wake up, it's-" Too late. Someone else is there. Claire jerks around, no weapon to defend herself, but bloodied hands going for the air instinctively. It must be a ragged night, she hasn't even pulled on gloves. She knows better than that, but he was also possibly bleeding out in front of her.

What she doesn't see is the expected cop. Instead, it's another man and another gun, but it's not pointed at her. She raggedly exhales a slow breath, trying to calm the violent gallop of her heart in her chest. "...M-microchip. Right." She looks from him, down to Frank, then back to him again, brows kit.

Finally, she just nods. If it was a lie, he's still possibly better than police. "I tried to stop the bleeding, he might have knicked artery. If a bullet fully took one out, he's a deadman without a possible. Help... help me get him in there."

Punisher has posed:
Without another word, Microchip grabs Frank around the armpits and begins to drag Frank back to the van. "Get him in the back. We have a safehouse nearby."

As they approach the back, Microchip slams his fist into one of the double doors... and they open automatically. Seems there's a trigger of some kind involved.

Looking inside... Claire can see more than enough military grade hardware to start several wars over and a state of the art computer station near the front.

Claire Temple has posed:
The nurse looks a little relieved as the man helps her get Frank into the van. "T-thank you. Thank you." The second set of words is a bit more steady, Claire getting her crisis brain into mode instead of the part of her which expected to die and then get arrested. The man was still bleeding and needed her help.

She moves quickly into the back of the van, her every motion that of an expert. She grabs the med kit and sterile wipes, quickly cleaning her hands before finally putting on gloves. Once that's done, she starts cutting away Frank's pants. She needs to see the wounds and see how the QuikClot bandages are going.

She's clearly decided to trust Microchip, because she's not even watching where the van is going out the front window. She's just racing against the clock to save Frank's life. Her hand reaches up, quickly checking his pulse, making certain they still have time, before she does back to the wounds on his leg. She'll work on him the whole way back. No question of the police or the hospital is ever asked. She knows the answer by now.