Punisher is a marvel comics character.
A dark haired man wearing a trench coat that stopped at his ankles and body armor looked into the grim night. Frank Castle, the Vigilante better known to the world as the Punisher stood in the shadows and watched as a group of cultist with odd high tech weapons fought against the members of the Chinese Tong. These people were responsible for to many crimes for one person to name, and despite everything that anyone would do, they always seemed to manage to slip out of having to serve for the crimes that they had performed. He had tracked the organization through an opium dealer, who had led him to a gun dealer, who had led him to a pimp, who had led him to a slaver, who had led him to several dirty cops, and finally had led him to this address. The place where all of the orders originated from. After he had finished with each of the scum that had been peddling various wares he had left them. Depending on whether or not they fought had depended on the shape that he left them in. The fact that most of them had thought that fighting him was a good idea and had forced him to finish them in a more permanent fashion than some people might like was not a problem of his. He had decided that their days of casually escaping justice was over though. He would show them what the price of performing their crimes was.
He had found that a number of high ranking figures for the group had been holed up inside waiting for him to come for them. They had stockpiled all sorts of weapons, and were preparing themselves for the battle that they knew was coming. They knew what happened to people that the Punisher went after, and none of them had any real urge to go against him without every edge that they could think of.
He had planned his strategy fairly easily. He was going to snipe the guards off, infiltrate, then slowly but surely work his way through the various soldiers and guards that they had hired to protect them from punishment. He would take great pleasure in tearing apart every part of the organization that was based within the building. That had been the plan that is until the strangely garbed figures had walked through the door and started shouting something in a language that he had never even heard of before. Considering some of the places he traveled, he had a more than decent idea of what most languages were and could normally identify the language being spoken, but this one was far beyond anything that he was familiar with.
He had calmly watched with grim satisfaction, as the two groups started shooting and killing each other. The Tong were good and not giving up their ground very easily the Punisher observed. They had been preparing for one man though, not a squad of men that had burst into their building and begun waving weapons at them. While the Tong were faster and better trained in the one on one, these cultist had armor on that slowed most of the first rounds of bullets and allowed them to ignore the various blades and their group dynamic was much better than that of the Tong members was. It was easy to see that while the Tong were the more skilled fighters in a shootout the cultist would soon be the only ones standing because of the advantages that they had when it came to protection and group training.
He would have to examine the weapons from the survivors. Those energy weapons could prove quiet useful, and the only country that he knew of that produced that kind of gear was Latveria, and he knew for a fact that Von Doom didn't hand out his toys to just anybody. This meant that someone had done the impossible and stolen weapon plans from Doom. Or there was the much more likely answer, there was a new weapons provider out there. One that he would need to meet up with soon. He glanced back down and saw that the cultist were finishing up. Out of the 12 soldiers, only two of them remained while a majority of Tong were either dead or had run away. He stepped out of the shadows and drew a pair of sawed off shotguns from beneath his jacket. He lifted the weapons up and aimed at their unprotected heads and squeezed the triggers.
The last thing the two Jaffa saw as they turned was a figure wearing a death symbol pointing weapons at them. They died thinking that an avatar of their God had come to take them to the holy lands. Their duties done with.
The Punisher nodded as the pair finally dropped to the ground and began going over the two groups scavenging all sorts of strange gear from the cultists. He examined the armor that one of them wore having accidentally brushed a button which a had activated the helmet. If he could learn how to copy the technology, he could have some type of armor cover him at a moments notice. It might save him from at least one or two shots or save his life if he was to close to an explosion. He would have to examine it more closely before he could make a choice. It was just as likely that he would have to send it to some of the weapon smiths that he knew to make some of his ideas work though. Doing that was dangerous, as it would eventually mean that some of his targets could be wearing similar types of armor as he did. If only people like Stark and Richards were more willing to help him out with these sorts of issues. He loaded two of the cultist along with their equipment into a truck with a tarp. Justice had been served this night, and perhaps he had gained new ways to make sure that more low-life's would feel the burning fires of Justice soon.
He was distracted as his police radio crackled to life. He listened as he heard that there were more of these cultists all over the city. It seemed that these beings had thought that they would run the entire city to the ground for some reason or other. He had no problem with these beings doing this to the Tong, in fact he actually applauded it, but when they started to target innocents as well he drew the line. Whoever these guys were, it seemed that they had no problem with executing anyone that got in their way. These things seemed to seriously outnumber law enforcement, and had superior weapons than what the local police could manage. What's more the local military base had been bombed by strange craft. It would delay the military for a few hours at the best. In that time though, they were going to be on their own while the military reorganized.
It seemed that there was only one thing left for him to do then. After spending the last couple of days being chased around by the police for dealing with criminals that they weren't allowed to thanks to the various lawyers and red tape. Hell, should have been thanking him for ending so many of the Tong for them. There was even a chance that they might be able to get things done now that some of the more powerful dirty cops had been dealt with. He was now going to have to give them support. He sure hoped that they appreciated some of the work that he did. Not that he really cared if they did, it would just be nice if someone would acknowledge the war that the was fighting and what it meant. That and he didn't much like having to dodge from the good guys. He figured tomorrow they would have him labeled as the one that had started this whole thing because he shot first or something like that. They would conveniently forget that it was thanks to him that they were still able to enjoy their nice and quiet morning papers.
He saw that there were more of the strange beings moving through the streets. At least he wouldn't have to go looking for them. He moved to the back of his truck and saw strange aircraft flying overhead. They must have been the one to bomb the local base. He pointed a weapon and sighted on the target and fired. The stinger missile flew from its shoulder mount and slammed into one of the slower moving aircraft. The ship wobbled for a moment before dropping like a rock. The ship tumbled onto the street sliding through various car before it came to a smoking halt.
Punisher tossed the missile launcher back into his van and he then drew out an assault rifle and a couple of belts filled with various types of ammunition for the guns he was wearing strapped to various places. If these people had come here expecting a war, than he would be more than happy to give it to them. War happened to be his way of life, and there were few that understood it as well as he did. He would provide justice for the innocents that the these people had killed. He sighted down his gun and as troops came to investigate the fallen ship he pulled the trigger ending the life of another one of them. He figured he had a few shots like this, and then he would move off and start to hunt these invaders.
Punishment was here.