8125/A Killer of Men

A Killer of Men
Date of Scene:	01 July 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Splinter confronts the Punisher. They have more in common than you'd think.
Cast of Characters:	Splinter, Punisher

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Splinter has posed:
"Don" Carlos Dominguez fancies himself an aristocrat. Expensive cars. Fine suits. High-end liquor. Only the best.

But you can afford that, when you deal in human cattle. He makes his living by offloading immigrants from Latin America coming into the United States looking for a better life as indentured labor. Mostly women. Sometimes kids. He dabbles in drugs, and has a lot of connections in the Dominican gangs.

In short: He's scum.

He has a silk tie, extremely expensive. It's his favorite. And then one day it's tied to a chain link fence, outside of the Punisher's safehouse, with a note. 'Come to Don Pedro's home in Spanish Harlem. We have a common enemy, and I want to discuss the nature of punishment. Come as armed as you need to.'

It could be a trap, but then... the Punisher doesn't *have* to go. Though whoever this is, it appears they're hanging this sub-human filth out as an offering. Pedro has laughed at the law, and consigned good human beings to suffer.

Punisher has posed:
"Frank, I don't think it's a trap. The Foot don't seem like the sort who call out their enemies like this." Microchip explains as he finishes reading the note. "Unless they're changed their MO entirely since their garage collapse failed so spectacularly." Frank stares at it for a moment... "Send one of the store drones over. See if there are any obvious ambushes. I'll take the Battle Van over and see what's what. You stay here and keep on the drone. I'm not risking you over this."

About twenty minutes later, the Battle Van in all it's non-descript black glory pulls up to the home, and out of the back comes the Punisher, trenchcoat, skull vest, and gear webbed for a hostile mission. He shoulders his Saiga-12k as he starts to head into the back, under the cover of night.

Normally, this would be a major assault, with the security system that's in place... but Punisher has a feeling it's been disabled for this one.

If it isn't, he can bug out very quick.

Splinter has posed:
It has indeed been turned off. Don Pedro has bodyguards, legmen. They're all ex-military. Dangerous men.

Each of them is seated at the heavy wooden table Don Pedro installed in his lavish home -- he calls it his 'Round Table', in what could politely be called a perverse imitation of the original idea.

Each of them is dead, throat slashed, blood running down the front of their shirts, and having spilled out onto the table in gouts.

It'd be easy enough to tell, *someone* killed these men *while they were seated at the table.*

Don Pedro... he's alive, tied to the chair, gagged with one of his expensive silk ties. He's struggling against the bonds that have him lashed to his italian leather chair. There is a liquor service set out. All very potent stuff, all *disgustingly* expensive.

And in the kitchen, the whistle of a... tea kettle.

Punisher has posed:
"Micro" Punisher whispers into the transceiver, "got a silent killer in here. Keep an eye on the drone in night vision."

Then, the tea kettle is heard, and the Saiga is turned in the direction of the kitchen briefly, before Punisher begins to walk over, checking his doors and corners as he goes. The laser sight turned on as he presses against the wall... then turns around, aiming into the kitchen with a sweep of his eyes.

Splinter has posed:
There is a... it would be polite, perhaps, to call Splinter a man. He is calmly decanting two cups of tea.

The rat looks up, and his whiskers twitch. "You may lower the gun, mister Castle." He says, before he picks up a tray, and turns, calmly walking PAST one of the deadliest men in the world and out into the meeting room. "I wanted to talk to you. Man to man." There's a wry sense of irony in that statement.

"Tea? Don Pedro has *abysmal* taste in tea. Nothing but a dusty old box of Lipton tea bags..." He tuts, softly. "That's the difference between pretention and true refinement."

Then he looks up, a glint in his dark eyes. "My *son* fears you, and rightfully so. I have trained him well, and he knows what you are, though he is too young and too much a product of these times to put words to it."

"You are a masterless ronin, Frank Castle. You are a killer of men who, having lost that which gave your life honor and meaning, is now roaming the world seeking an honorable death... which you have yet to find."

"I know who you are. I know *many* things that transpire in this city, above and below ground. More than my sons think that I do."

Punisher has posed:
In the second it becomes clear Splinter is either not an enemy, or simply wants to talk, the Saiga is idled against his chest as Punisher listens... and doesn't try to stop Splinter as he passes by, "Seems like all the animal mutants are comin' out of the woodwork lately, with this Shredder asshole stirrin' up the city." Punisher muses out loud. "I don't deal in drugs, even mild ones. I regulate my intake strictly." Punisher replies, as he turns to regard Splinter.

"Frank Castle is dead, call me The Punisher." Punisher mildly corrects Splinter, "you know, I've been dealin' with actual fuckin' ninjas for the last few weeks, with their tactics and everything. It's been a bit of a trip, and now you come along with words like ronin and honor. It almost sounds japanese." Punisher muses as he casually walks in, "I'm assumin' your 'sons' are the Turtles I met in that subway station once?"

Splinter has posed:
"I am Japanese." Splinter says. "Call me Splinter. Master Splinter, if you feel the need to be formal." Splinter concedes this, and leaves one of the cups of tea be, though he sips his own.

"Yes. That's a very long story, but after the incident that left me in this state and them... changed, I adopted them. They needed me. And, if the truth be told, I needed them. If it wasn't for them..." Well, he'd be the Punisher.

"Frank Castle's wife and children were gunned down because they were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. It was an act bereft of honor, compassion, or humanity." Splinter considers this, and then says, "A lifetime ago, I had another name. I had a wife. And I had children. They were murdered, by the Shredder!" The teacup quivers, briefly.

"He was my closest friend... and our paths diverged. He rose to the leadership of the Foot Clan, and I decided I did not wish to be a killer of men for him. I wanted a peaceful life, with my wife and my sons. To him, this was treachery. What he could not possess, he *had* to destroy."

Splinter has gripped the teacup in both hands, and squeezed it so hard the ceramic has cracked. He hasn't noticed.

Punisher has posed:
"Good to meet you, Splinter." Punisher greets, amicably. Far from the deranged psychopath the news makes him out to be, for sure.

Soon, he's moving over to a recliner, and he sits, the shotgun still idling against his chest. "They were gunned down in a drug deal gone wrong that the Law allowed to take place, despite the insane risk. Then they tried to have me covertly assassinated with legal paperwork. The incident opened my eyes to just how sick this society was, and showed me the path for me to make sure that those trying to live their lives no longer need to worry about such corruption." Punisher says, before he gives a nodding gesture to those around the 'table', "impressive work, by the way." Punisher compliments, the head gesture making the implication clear.

Then, he looks to the teacup... but says nothing until the ceramic cracks. "You're cracking it." He gives a nodding gesture to the teacup.

Splinter has posed:
Splinter sets the cup down. "I have raised my sons to be better men than me, in many ways. That is my proudest achievement." The rat's gaze is inscrutable.

"You are about to go to war with the Foot Clan. I am here to encourage you to do exactly this. Every agent of the Foot Clan you kill, every one of its resources you destroy weakens the Shredder and creates vulnerabilities that I and my sons can exploit. My sons would not approve of this... but I have made sure that though they know of my vendetta with the Shredder, they don't really understand it. It's for the best. Do whatever you need to. I don't need to tell you to keep the innocent out of harm's way."

"But... the Shredder is *mine*. His blood, his life, they are *mine*. I will take his head the way he took the heads of my children."

"Do you understand? This isn't a threat to your safety or your person, it is a statement from one killer of men to another... Punisher."

"*I* will kill Oroku Saki!"

Punisher has posed:
Punisher considers Splinter for a few seconds.... five... seven, then, after ten seconds, he nods. "I'd be fine with this. I'm not obsessed with doing the deed myself. If you're interested in me being more effective, I could use more intelligence on their operations. I'm still playing catchup on their methods and their assets."

Then, Punisher shrugs, "As for the Turtles... if they're not interested in working with me, that's their loss. Leo already cut off contact with me, even though together we might have a chance of breaching their warehouse HQ. I can't penetrate their counter-surveillance, and any attempts to setup a siege just provoke them into responding. Since they have innocents in there, I can't bring in the big guns without making a serious mess and causing collateral damage."

Splinter has posed:
"I can explain to you the concepts and principles by which the Shredder operates. We were trained together. I know how he thinks. He is Ninja, to the very core of his being, and though his interpretation of them is twisted, the disciplines of the Ninja are his rule and guide. The most important thing you need to understand is that Ninja are seldom direct. They hunt like wolves. Harry, exhaust, distract, circle, leave and return... then go for the kill."

"You cannot hope to crush him in a direct assault. You must out maneuver him, damage his assets, and then strike the vulnerable flank. And above all, you must be meticulous, patient, bide your time, and then when the moment comes, strike fast and then *vanish*. That is how he will come after you. That is how you must fight him. He is one of the world's foremost masters of asymetrical warfare and confronting him directly is like trying to box the smoke from the campfire."

Punisher has posed:
"What period of tactics is he drawing his inspiration from, specifically? Should be easy enough to do some research. Right now, I've been going with the fuedal period with the samurai." Punisher inquires, "Anyone with a large organization needs logistics. Places to resupply. They need the money to support their organization. The warehouse with all the counter-surveillance needs support structures... or it would already have the police all over it."

Splinter has posed:
"You have to understand, by the very nature of what we are and where we came to exist, we became masters of obfuscation. The feudal system of medieval Japan was extremely stratified, with little room to rise beyond one's station. The Ninja clans held the paradox of both defying that feudal structure, living outside of it, and having an important place within it." Splinter is still, his gaze never leaving Frank, while he talks.

"That meant that our resource networks were extensive, but also cleverly disguised and hidden within layers of mundanity so elaborate they approach ritual. To find where the Foot's criminal allies are contacting them, you must listen for the silence. Do you understand?"

Punisher has posed:
"To a point. They cloak their movements in the mundane routines of todays society, and hide their intentions. They take the idea of criminal fronts and take it up to eleven, for lack of a better metaphor." Punisher shrugs, "I've done some direct assaults on their assets, but I'm fully expecting them to relocate elsewhere with each anthill I kick over."

Punisher stands, his Saiga is brought up, the safety switched on, and the sling is brought over his shoulders before he pulls out his Glock 17, starting to put the silencer on it from his utility pouch on the gear web as he walks over to Pedro, "Assholes like Pedro here love to use corporations for long term laundering." Punisher notes as he moves behind Pedro, gripping his hair with his free hand and pulling his head back. The pistol remains at his side. For now. "Restaurants and salons tend to be more for locals, in my experience." The hair is released, "I guarantee you the asshole you're looking to kill has a similar setup somewhere. It's the only way he can have the influence he does." He looks back to Splinter, "Direct assaults also have the added benefit of forcing them to scurry, so you can usually tag where they go, if you know what to look for."

Splinter has posed:
Splinter considers something, and then he gets his feet. "Let me make a point to you about how Ninja conduct their business." He gets to his feet. "No. A ninja doesn't do that. A ninja *becomes*. A spy who is a shopkeeper *is a shopkeeper*. She keeps up her shop, she concerns herself with the well-being of her customers. The shop is not a secondary concern manufactured to launder money. The shop is the point, as much as the organization itself. The shopkeeper cares as much for tending their business and its respectability as much as they do collecting information. Ninja think differently than common mobsters."

"You will need to be patient. You will need to pay very close attention. Ninja do not disguise themselves. They *become*." He walks over to Pedro's liquor service, and takes a crystal bottle in one paw. He pulls out the stopper and sniffs it. "...Japanese plum brandy. Very strong. Pedro has terrible taste in tea," Splinter takes a pull from the bottle, "But excellent taste in liquor."

He pads over, and then casually pours the contents of the bottle over Pedro's head, soaking the man and his expensive suit in alcohol.

"I am well-acquainted with the Shredder's criminal network in New York. The other problem you have is, that mundanity also means the Foot's will be cloaked by layers of innocent people, who have committed no crimes. That means you will need precision."

"You claim to have abandoned your honor, Punisher... but a ronin who seeks an honorable death slaying the wicked while trying to spare the innocent is still a Samurai. Patience. Precision. And discipline. And remember, Ninja are illusionists. Show people what they want to believe, and they'll believe it."

He looks at Pedro, and the old rat's whiskers twitch, before he reaches a paw into his kimono and withdraws a box of wooden matches. "It's a shame, Pedro, how your house burned down. It's a shame you were in it."

Punisher has posed:
As Punisher listens, he slowly but surely makes a face akin to amusement. "We have differences in how we approach matters... but I understand where you're coming from." Punisher then looks to Pedro, "Burning down with his house is a great idea... but he has some assets I'd be interested in acquiring. It'll be a lot easier to get into his bank accounts if I can get his passwords." Punisher, however, doesn't stop Splinter. "And it'd be much easier to do withdrawals if he wasn't officially dead. Yet."

Splinter has posed:
"As I said, I have raised my sons to be better men than their father. It will be a difficult day when they come to realize this... but also my greatest success." Splinter says, "Well, how convenient that I am not going to strike the match. I am simply going to leave them on the table, and leave Pedro here... with you. And what will be will be."

Pedro starts to buck and scream in his chair.

"Oroku Saki left me with nothing, broken... only my sons saved me. But now they are grown. Vengeance has only been deferred, not denied."

He turns, to walk away, into the dark. "You will know when I am nearby. Just listen for the silence."

Punisher has posed:
A burner phone is tossed from his vest onto the ground as Splinter is walking away, "Microchip has that going through a VPN. You can contact him with it with the contact on it."

With that, Punisher moves around to sit on the table in front of Pedro. "Alright then, 'Don'. You and I have some discussions to go through." He smiles, "I'll give you the same deal I give to all the underworld bosses I find. Give me access to your assets in the banks and in your armories... and I'll make it quick." Punisher takes the Ka-Bar from his gear web, and starts to flip it, "or, you can resist... and learn why I took the name The Punisher."

His eyes look right into Pedro, "Please. Resist."

Splinter has posed:
A thick rat tail snakes its way out of the dark, and grabs the phone before it hits the ground. It vanishes, and then the old rat is gone, swallowed up by the dark.