Director Carter’s eyes twinkled a bit. “Indeed.” She half-glanced at the Shield she was wearing on her back significantly. “Are any of your alchemical products effective against werewolves and vampires?”

“Surely you’ve heard of Silverguard ammunition...”

“Learning we have stores of that could trigger either force.”

“Then you’ll just have to buy and store it off the books.” I rolled my eyes. “Do you know which of the crime families are tied up with which vampires and wereclans?”

Her smile grew wider. “We might. Why are you asking?”

“One, it’s a great cover for an attack if they do it at the behest of this or that rival family. Second, mercs love being paid twice for the same job.”

“I’m sure they do,” she sighed. “Are they good at their job?”

“LA recently had a vampire infection. They were the ones who cleaned most of it out. I understand the Aerie hunted down the rest, with the help of a few Casters.”

“Werewolves?” she asked, arching an eyebrow as she pulled out the last bullet sticking in me, and I sighed and finally laid down on my back on the hillside. She looked at the mound stacked up in the sterile bag, and shook her head despite herself.

“Werewolves in the Tribal lands are mostly a Druid thing. The Shamans take the were threat very seriously, as werefolk of multiple types are always trying to infiltrate.” I watched her close her eyes and curse silently at nothing. “There’s some quietly bloody stuff going on all the time in the northern forests, but they come in from down in Mexico, too.

“But werewolves in their bestial forms don’t rate next to vampires. They won’t have a problem with them, other than identifying them, and that’s what you have spellcasters for.”

“Right.” Director Carter’s nostrils flared as she considered the problem. “Officially, you know I can’t do anything.”

“I’m of the mind that a Shield doesn’t care for the regs if the regs are perpetuating horror on the average person.”

She gave me a considering glance. “Far too many people believe we are just government flunkies, you realize.”

“To be fair, you make exemplary government flunkies when you go that route.”

She laughed as she began packing up the medkit. I stopped her, and took the bag of bullets from her. As she watched, I held it in both hands, and proceeded to apply voltage to the whole thing, frying my blood completely to ashes with great speed.

“I’m aware you have enough to set up a DNA identifier on me, but that’s all you have.” She might or might not have noticed me also frying the ground I had bled on, and I still had the blouse she’d cut off me.

Also, I wasn’t giving them permission to use my name or information. Good luck on opening that file on me.

“Certainly the scientists of SHIELD wouldn’t want to crack apart your genetics and see what makes you tick,” she laughed, not offended in the slightest.

“Just so. Now I just have to wait a couple hours until all the bruises stop hurting.”

“Will you take a verbal contract for some Silverguard ammunition?”

“Sure. Want some Heartstopper stuff, too? Tailor-made for vampires.”

“Oh? What’s it do?”

“Well, it’ll kill them if it hits the heart or head. Otherwise, it sets up an alchemical reaction in their blood, coagulates it quickly as it realizes it’s dead. They lose most of their powers when that happens, and they get VERY thirsty, which makes them fight instead of flee to sate it... including on one another, if they have to.”

“That sounds extremely useful...”

My phone rang again. “Yes?” I asked.

“Dynamo.” It was the guy, Frank. “We made it to the magic house.” There were faint sirens and shouts going on in the background.

I looked up as some flying figures zipped overhead, headed towards Greenwich Village, including Johnny Storm all aflame. Director Carter put her hand to her ear as something came in over the microbead there. “You’ve got more capes on the way. What happened?”

“Fuel oil truck blew out its tires and steering column and tipped over. Your friend stopped it from getting to us, but it blew and is burning up right outside, set the whole street on fire... except for this house.”

“Did Master Wong say anything to you yet?”

“I don’t think he really believed you when we showed up. I think he might have had a change of heart.”

“Did anything else happen?” I asked in resignation.

“Sewer explosion just as we were walking past. If your friend hadn’t been standing there to take the shockwave and flames, we might have been killed.” The anger and helplessness in his voice was quite clear.

“The Doctor who lives in that house can determine the source of what is afflicting you. I’m going to be a couple hours while the holes in my skin close and my head-to-toe bruises take care of themselves, but I’ll head over there once bumping into something doesn’t make stars rise in my eyes.

“Make sure to give the phone back, will you? Master Wong can call me back on the house phone now that I’ve called him.”

“Got it.” There was a moment of hesitation. “Thanks for your help. Pretty sure we’d all be dead if not for you.”

“My pleasure. Stay safe. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Somebody is going to pay for this. Something,” he repeated for emphasis.

“Damn straight.”

“My name is Frank Castle, by the way.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Castle. Your shooting technique is excellent.”

“Four tours in Sinochan.” That was a lot of fighting. “My family wants to thank you, too. We look forward to seeing you again.”

“I’ll be there soon as I don’t feel like an elephant’s footpad, Mr. Castle.”

He hung up, as did I. I sighed.

“Explosion outside Strange’s flat?” Director Carter asked fatalistically.

“They got inside. I think their escort stopped it in the middle of the street, but that probably spread the flames to both sides of the street. Apologies.”

“Circumstances,” she sighed as well. “Might I inquire as to who he is?”

“He said Frank Castle. He’s a Marine, I saw his tat. He said four tours in Sinochan.”

“Frank Castle?” Her eyes flashed.

“You know him?”

“I think my husband trained him in the Special Forces.”

“Well, he picked off six men with precise headshots in ten seconds. I’d say that was some really good training. You might want to pick him up, you know? That’s a hefty skillset to go back into civilian life...”

“I will definitely consider it.” She looked at the dead men being photographed and bagged. At some point the NYPD forensic team had shown up to ‘assist’. The two stunned men had already been carted down the hill and off to the hospital. “No evidence he was here...”

“Clean, sharp, decisive. Didn’t hesitate, did what had to be done, and kept moving. He hasn’t lost it, but he’s got a wife and two kids to protect and be there for.”

“I’ll ask Steve about him. There is always room for good men.”

I wondered how much different Frank Castle was going to be in this world than in other ones, and reflected that he probably still had a lot of violence in his future. Where to send that violence was the task at hand, not stopping it... because it probably couldn’t be stopped.

Ugh. Hated being bound to Fate...

--------------

Verbal negotiations followed, which would be followed by some somewhat misdirecting actual printed ones. I’d have to warn the Fantastics about my mail being sent there, as I wasn’t going to give them my false temporary home address.

SHIELD didn’t head over to Strange’s place, Director Carter deeming it better for the Castles if the less was known about them, the better.

I flew in roughly ninety minutes later, annoyed I couldn’t openly use magic to just whisk away my healing difficulties, and resolving to find a way to accelerate the process. Healing Wrath would be so useful now, but it was a Heavenbound thing...

---

“Hey, old man, you look like you had an interesting day.”

Mr. Hill looked over as I glided down next to him. I had a different t-shirt on a second later, so nobody much looked at me.

This block of Beeker Street was all roped off now, there was a big hole in the middle of the road, and they were still fighting some of the residual fires. Johnny Storm coming in and helping subdue the flames quickly had certainly helped. Still, a couple of the facing buildings were completely devastated and total losses.

The Sanctum Sanctorum was, however, totally untouched.

“It was definitely worth ten grand,” he replied from where he was sitting on some steps, watching the fire department and emergency services at work, relaxed and not at all worried about being discovered. Nobody knew who he was here. “You sure run into some strange people, girl.”

“You got that right. Sewer explosions?” I rolled my eyes despite myself.

“Been in a couple of those, but that was definitely a surprise. Another nice hole in the street.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the street itself is fixed overnight, just to keep the attention off the house,” I noted. “I already sent off notices that some interested parties might want to buy them to help the Sanctorum. Good time to sell, after all.”

“No kidding.” He got to his feet, dusting off his coat. “Damn good thing I wasn’t wearing my suit, on the one hand, but you know, I already met the owner of this building.” He had an odd thin smile on his face.

“Buying him out?”

“I dropped him a line on who I was, and that he had some unhealthy neighbors for a normal person.” I eyed two long gouges about the size of his feet in the street, and smirked. “We came to a fair price. Should have the papers signed by the end of the week.”

“I’m thinking someone also got a fat payment from someone else.”

Smoke billowed out his nose from the cigar in his mouth calmly. “Casinos agreed to a nice contract for debt-collecting on well-heeled welchers who don’t want to settle their bets.”

“Leg-breaking is a little low, but I suppose if they’re really rich with security forces, it takes a special kind of leg-breaker, hey?”

“That it does,” he confirmed. “Also, they are totally ready to start a new Tier of private tables with ya, so be ready to call up.”

“Good. By the way, you up for some merc work?”