Frank Castle/Pete Castigleone
Olivia Vaughn TBD
Billy Russo
Matt Murdoch/Daredevil, Karen Paige, Foggy Nelson
David Lieberman
Sarah Lieberman
Dina Madani
Curtis Hoyle
Gedeon Kuznetsov
Oleg Verenich
Arkadi Morozov
When the SUV flipped and crashed onto its roof, she was jolted awake and in excruciating pain. She recognized the pain wasn't from the... accident? Willing herself to push through the haze to take in her surroundings was the worst of it- for half a moment she was ready to quit life. There was a weight crushing her, forces she'd been trying to hold off and she was just so fucking tired... Fresh blood rolled over skin marred by torture-inflicted wounds and old scars. The world was tilting and turning while her pulse pounded in her ears. Drunk? Drugs? Her mind struggled to grasp the threads of reality and memory as instinct roared in alarm. 'Just choose one.' she thought to herself, and her eyes settled on the immediate- there was a light on the floor... she was on the interior of a vehicle roof. She allowed her line of sight to expand a little further...roof of a large SUV; further still, an unconscious man was suspended over her, caught in his seatbelt like a tangled marionet. He had superficial wounds- they weren't from the accident. Concussion... her mind whispered to her as a piercing noise tore through her temple. She was bleeding out and frustrated. She looked again at the unconscious man. Dark hair. Hardened jaw. The hands hanging outstretched- her mind played a reel of those hands in a flood of light. Frank. Her heart began to pound in her ears, pushing out the ringing and confusion. Frank. Everything came rushing back. 'No. No no no...' She looked up to see the driver cutting himself free. "Gedeon," sher mouther his name, voice trapped in her throat. It reminded her of dreams where the body tries to speak but can't. There was a woman in the front seat held by her seatbelt, blonde hair dangling, sobbing quietly out of fear, fighting to get loose from the seatbelt. Olivia could hear vehicles approaching. Precious seconds. This was not supposed to be happening. Tears flooded her eyes as she cut the threads that had bound her and dove into the deepest well of purpose she had- anger and resentment. He'd ruined everything. All that she had worked for to protect and help him and their friends. He'd undone it all. How could she love someone who would do this?
ACT 1: NO GOOD DEED
Cut to glimpse and images blurring in and out of focus, scars and tattoos, cutting cold blue eyes the muffled sounds of a young woman crying as her abuser becomes her killer.
At a formal dinner party at a private estate in England, the wife of an oligarch struggles to keep her composure as the son of another oligarch celebrates a little too loudly. Her friend, the mother of the young man, who is also struggling to mask her irritation and embarrassment of his behavior, notes her friend's expression and learns the truth behind it.
Cut again to a month later, similar images blurring in and out of focus- tattoos, cutting blue eyes. Anger fear and last gasps. His cell phones are unlocked and taken from the scene by the assassin, unaware of a pinhole camera tied to a secret secondary security feed in the target's home.
It is 7 months since the brutal fight between Frank Castle and Billy Russo that left Russo clinging to life and Frank given a new identity. Karen Paige and Matt Murdoch have reconciled. Curtis continues trying to build a life for himself through service. The Liebermans are putting their lives back together, David has taken a contracting position with a private company with deep national security agency ties. Agent Madani is not recovering well psychologically. An elusive assassin is being hunted worldwide, loudly and sloppily. Moves are being made within the ranks of several Russian and Chechen mob houses, quiet and large scale.
another 6 weeks...Billy Russo's health takes a turn for the worse but then shows resilience. David Lieberman begins to devise a plan, reaches out to Curtis and makes continued attempts to contact the same assassin being hunted for the murder of an oligarch's son. Frank goes on a bad date. Ramifications of power grab in New York are pulling the city and surrounding areas into chaos. Law enforcement and vigilantes are struggling to get a handle on it. Agent Madani's spiral intensifies.
Another month...Assassin makes contact with Lieberman, accepts the offer and makes a deal with Russian oligarch, father of the man she killed. The contract out on her is rescinded to the ability it can be. Assassin meets with Russian enforcer to finalize and get assurances. Curtis visits Billy and marks the recovery. He is not awake. Yet. Curtis agrees to David's plan. They begin planning and involving others.
(Two men speaking Russian over secure cell phone lines)
"That bitch killed my son!" Oleg yelled into the phone and put it back to his left ear, the ear missing the top portion from an IED when he was younger and fighting Afghans. Oleg was red-faced and furious, spit spraying as he swore and railed.
Former Russian Army and FSB post-collapse, and one of several iron fists for a Kremlin-backed mercenary group, Oleg Verenich's life was showing in the deep creases and contours of his lean face. Now in his late sixties, too much war, drinking, smoking and climbing his way up the Russian power ladder had aged him. Losing his only son while trying to manage repercussions from the Kremlin and fill the power vacuum left in New York after losing too many good men AND control his own enterprise felt like a cinder block around his neck dragging him down into the abyss. It was his rage that gave him the energy to keep swimming upward. Revenge would fuel him, and the way he saw it, could set many things right.
Arkadi Morozov let out a deep breath of frustration quietly. He sat on a bench at the end of his bed, trying to put on one of his thousand-dollar loafers. His first day back in New York City was not starting off well. Customs had held him for several hours and he had business to tend. Oleg's ravings were making him late, not to mention Arkadi was in New York to clean up Oleg's mess.
Arkadi Morozov let out a deep breath of frustration quietly. He sat on a bench at the end of his bed, trying to put on one of his thousand-dollar loafers. His first day back in New York City was not starting off well. Customs had held him for several hours and he had business to tend. Oleg's ravings were making him late, not to mention Arkadi was in New York to clean up Oleg's mess.
"That bitch has now added three Chechens, half a dozen of his Ukrainian assets, burnt a fourth dacha. He is running out of patience with this vendetta. It is drawing attention from the Americans, the Brits and you know he wants that avoided at all costs. Your vendetta is understandable but it has opened the door to war in New York and we were already vulnerable thanks to that little shit from Odessa." Arkadi reminded Oleg. It didn't please him to do it knowing it would incite Oleg further.
The two were not friends, business allies was the only courteous title Arkadi could think of. Despite a working relationship going back more than three decades, they were not friendly and handled themselves very differently, especially where moments required violence, diplomacy or both. Their few shared qualities revolved around gaining and maintaining power and only slightly more so, breathing. Their mutual ascensions within the Russian power structure, politically, its reach abroad, including and especially in the States, had benefitted each other greatly.
"HE!" Oleg began shouting and cursing in a torrent of obscenities, "...would go to war with the U.S. if they killed HIS son!"
"The U.S. did not kill your son. An American did. Should we not be looking into this instead?" Arkadi knew it was no use, the fuse was lit on this bomb.
"This is BULL SHIT, ARKADI! It's BULL SHIT!"
"Calm down, Oleg." Arkadi sighed.
"Go fuck yourself, Arkadi! It's not your son! If it were...You of all people should understand-"
"If it were my son, I would want you to counsel me as I am trying to counsel you." Arkadi could hear Oleg's breathing. The quiet was more concerning than the yelling. Something needed to be done and Arkadi absolutely wanted no part of it, but Oleg had now made avoidance impossible. War for territory was happening on the streets in New York. Moves were being made against them and ultimately against the interests of their organization. Oleg's vengeance was lending to the chaos. The call dropped, Arkadi stared at the phone a brief moment, certain Oleg had hung up. Arkadi finished dressing and began making calls, his only hope to cauterize the wound Oleg's recklessness had created.
"HE!" Oleg began shouting and cursing in a torrent of obscenities, "...would go to war with the U.S. if they killed HIS son!"
"The U.S. did not kill your son. An American did. Should we not be looking into this instead?" Arkadi knew it was no use, the fuse was lit on this bomb.
"This is BULL SHIT, ARKADI! It's BULL SHIT!"
"Calm down, Oleg." Arkadi sighed.
"Go fuck yourself, Arkadi! It's not your son! If it were...You of all people should understand-"
"If it were my son, I would want you to counsel me as I am trying to counsel you." Arkadi could hear Oleg's breathing. The quiet was more concerning than the yelling. Something needed to be done and Arkadi absolutely wanted no part of it, but Oleg had now made avoidance impossible. War for territory was happening on the streets in New York. Moves were being made against them and ultimately against the interests of their organization. Oleg's vengeance was lending to the chaos. The call dropped, Arkadi stared at the phone a brief moment, certain Oleg had hung up. Arkadi finished dressing and began making calls, his only hope to cauterize the wound Oleg's recklessness had created.
Two months later...
Pete was over-full from barbeque. He unlaced and hastily pulled his feet from his boots before collapsing onto his bed for the nap he felt coming for him on the horizon. The bosses had bought the crew lunch and sent everyone home with leftovers. Pete was one of only a few tenants in the quiet renovated apartment complex he'd settled in a few months back. Pete had headed northwest from New York but couldn't quite find a place that would let him settle with some sense of anonymity. His features were distinct, he felt like everyone he crossed paths with recognized him even if they weren't sure why. Finally heading south until he landed in Colorado Springs. The city was not overly small, he seemed to be one of many transplants from elsewhere, a cross section of military, private and public sector. Karen having suggested it made him feel close to her and that had been a small comfort.
Pete held no illusions about a future with Karen, and he was sure she should run from the attorney in the devil's suit as much as she should run from him, but Red was better for her. Of that, Pete was certain. Her happiness was paramount. Maybe she had a thing for men like them, he wasn't going to judge. It was also certain that he and Red damaged the people they cared about most, never intending to but... Karen's greatest strength was her ability to see the good in people- in him. Pete wasn't sure if Karen was lying to herself, but maybe if she was right, he could be worthy of her faith. It felt worthwhile trying.
The words of the book he was reading, Life of Pi, were blurring on the page as his mind drifted. Pete was willing to let the ribs luncheon win and sink in to sleep. Every so often he slept free of the nightmares and this felt like one of those times. A comforting darkness and quiet began to pull him from consciousness. The first slow deep exhale of slumber... an intrusive though- a scream- 'Great,' he thought to himself. There would be nightmares after all. A crash. And then another. Pete sat up. Was it a scream? A cry? Glass shattered. Yelling...swearing... Pete was out of bed and at the window overlooking the street below.
Directly across from his place on the second floor, a looming shadow of a man behind white curtains fluttering out of broken glass double doors to a balcony. A long haired brunette early thirties driving an obnoxiously large SUV, and an even louder Italian street bike had been moving into the converted loft across the street for what now? he thought about it- two weeks? There was a slam...shadows fighting...? He hesitated, don't get involved... a crash. Pete was out the door of his apartment and steaming across the street, taking the stairs up to her place two at a time. Setting his jaw, Pete kept stride then kicked the heavy ornate wooden door once...twice...three times before it gave way. Pete barreled into the flat heading toward the large man across the room who was getting to his feet, eyes wide in surprise. The brunette was on the floor between the man's feet. She scrambled up and rushed to Pete, deftly putting herself between Pete and her attacker, both of them talking at Pete so fast all he heard were excuses.
"Please stop! You don't understand!" she pleaded. There was a broken potted plant on the floor in the corner.
"Oh, I understand! You wanna put your hands on someone, shitbag?! Let's go!" Pete roared. The woman planted her feet and keep him from getting closer to the...shirtless man. Wearing fingerless MMA gloves. Black shorts over black compression leggings. Pete hesitated as the haze of rage began to falter.
"I promise you don't understand." the woman tried to get Pete's attention and eventually got him to look at her. "It's okay. He wasn't beating on me." she kept a firm hand on Pete's chest, his breathing still harsh. She held her other arm out and away from herself. She was sweaty, trying to catch her own breath. Wearing layers of sports bras, loose sleeveless athletic shirts and striped compression leggings, her eyes were trying to reassure him. He looked back to the man that was almost three times the woman's size, noticed giant wrestling mats and connected it to the movers he'd seen yesterday carrying large wrapped...
Pete stopped trying to advance and the woman removed her hand from Pete's chest.
"Oh my God." Pete flushed scarlet in embarrassment. He looked to the front door, one barely holding on by the lower hinge. The frame and second door he'd kicked in was leaning against the entry wall. "Oh my God." he repeated, taking in the damage, mortified and ran his hands through his hair.
The large dark-haired man slowly made his way over, the biggest smile on his face. The woman turned to check on him then refocused on Pete. They started laughing and she put her hand out.
"I'm Olivia, this is Frank." She had an amazing smile. The introduction stole the last of his fury from Pete.
"Frank?" Pete looked confused because Pete's real name was Frank- No it isn't, he thought. "I'm Pete. He's Frank." Pete blurted awkwardly, more embarrassed than he could remember being in a long time. Looking closer, Pete thought he recognized Frank from somewhere.
"Do I know you?" Pete couldn't help but stare trying to place the face and finally turned to the neighbor and shook her hand. She had a strong forthright grip. He looked back and forth at his new neighbor and Frank the huge man.
Frank came to join them shaking Pete's hand, the wide smile never leaving his face.
"I do. I know you." Pete squinted, certain and openly staring hoping it would click.
"If you watch MMA..." she began.
"You're FRANK REIGN!" Pete blurted out and continued shaking Frank's hand. "Holy shit!" Pete smile stunned.
Frank nodded and laughed. He seemed as enthralled with Pete but said nothing.
An awkward silence fell and Pete shook himself from his surprise. He looked back at the door he destroyed, apologizing repeatedly and profusely.
The more his new neighbor and Frank Reign the UFC fighter explained, the worse Pete Castiglione felt.
"I mean what else were you going to do? How common is this?" Frank was as entertained by this as Olivia and Pete was too embarrassed to let them let him off the hook.
"I really appreciate having a neighbor that pays attention?" Olivia laughed. "No cops showed up, so that's super suspect," Olivia pointed out and to a degree that was somewhat concerning but there weren't many residents in the neighborhood.
After a few more minutes of awkward small talk, Frank and Pete did their best to set the doors right to no avail while Olivia cleaned up the glass on the porch. Eventually, Frank left to return for his hotel. He whispered something to Olivia before shaking hands with Pete one last time on his way out.
Pete and Olivia sat across from one another on the large dark emerald sectional as the small talk continued.
"I can sleep on the porch?" Pete offered.
"I'll be fine. I can order new doors tomorrow. Really it's fine." Olivia tried to reassure him.
"It's supposed to get pretty cold. You can stay at my place? I'll stay here." Pete offered.
Olivia laughed hard. "I doubt very much that anyone would see that mess and come in."
"Lemme pay for the doors. I can install them even. You've gotta let me make this right." Pete held out his hands exasperated.
The expression on her face changed like she'd decided something important. She excused herself to get a sweatshirt and when she returned, she was in an oversized hoodie, but she had something in her hand and set it on the coffee table in front of him. It was a tablet. He looked at her and then the screen and saw his friends. A video. She pressed play. Pete sat frozen as his friends explained their plan with his new neighbor Olivia to help protect him from Billy Russo.
"Who the Hell are you?" Frank Castle demanded in a hushed threatening tone. He stared unblinking at the tablet.
Collected and pleasant, unphased by the rage emanating from him, she smiled and said, "I'm Olivia Vaughn and I'm here to help you."
Pete had managed to keep himself composed, barely; let her explain herself and whatever bullshit story she has. This was totally nuts. Pete knew his friends well enough to believe they'd try something this stupid, but there was a fine line in believing what they'd do and being in it. He called Curtis, who then added David Lieberman to confirm the truth, but it was Sarah getting on the line that made it real. Sarah even seemed...thrilled that he'd finally met Olivia like it was a blind date he'd been set up with.
After ending the call, Pete sat glaring while she waited for his questions. He knew how to interrogate, and Olivia made it clear she knew how to be interrogated. This only managed to irritate Pete further and so he was not satisfied or open to any of it. There would be time to deal with his friends. Now was the time to deal with the problem that had an electric smile sitting in front of him.
It was closing in on 1am and Pete was too angry to be tired.
"Lieberman. Why would he call you?" Pete growled.
"Because I can do this." Olivia replied.
He was certain she was baiting him.
"You know who I am. Why would you?" Pete pushed.
His cheeks flushed crimson and twitched. Olivia set her shoulders and looked him directly in the eye, calm as ever. It did not calm him.
"You've spent the last few years in a war with yourself. Everyone tells you to choose and YOU believe you have to, that you're a danger to the people you care about regardless if you put The Punisher into a box and bury it; that you'll lose yourself entirely if you give in to the brutality."
He tensed at the moniker. Pete lost his patience and went to interrupt.
"Please let me finish. You can convince me that I'm wrong and don't know you after." Olivia raised her hand gently imploring and somehow managed not to sound dismissive.
He tensed at the moniker. Pete lost his patience and went to interrupt.
"Please let me finish. You can convince me that I'm wrong and don't know you after." Olivia raised her hand gently imploring and somehow managed not to sound dismissive.
Pete saw a twitch at the corner of her mouth like she wanted to smile. His objection remained choked off. That didn't happen often and he was chomping at the bit to have his say. Whatever this was, he was over it.
"Thank you." she acknowledged and left her seat to pace while presenting her case to the judge and jury of one. "Frank, you have done, been through, suffered, revenged, avenged, broken AND healed. You haven't become hateful or spiteful or psychotic, no matter how many people want to believe you are. You don't 'love' killing. You don't 'love' war. But. You're never going to be just some regular guy teaching first graders or selling cars. You're an instinctual protector. It's your nature and your heart. You don't stand by in this world." she glanced at the broken doors
No one had called him by his name in so long it sounded strange to hear. Olivia noted a micro-softening of Frank's jaw.
"I will never judge you for things you've done or choices you've made. How could I and not be a raging hypocrite? I am not trying to piss you off here- I... We," she pointed at the tablet, paused on a group photo with everyone including Olivia, at what looked like a bar probably in New York that looked familiar to him. Everyone was smiling; Sarah, Karen, even the lawyer. "are asking you to take a leap of faith."
"You want me to just believe you?" Pete scoffed. "I don't know you, lady and you sure as Hell don't know me." he sneered shaking his head.
"If David or Curtis asked you to get my back you wouldn't care if I trusted you. You would want me to take the word of our friends. Would it stop you from protecting me if I refused? Of course not. It would get a fuck ton easier if I got on board though. So, We are asking you for that very reason- this goes easier if you choose for yourself what you would want me to do if I were your asset." Olivia immediately regretted using the word asset.
"Asset, huh?" he chuckled skeptically.
She rebounded. "You can say no and we can get in each other's way, lose time and advantage." Pete remained silent and so she went on to complete her pitch.
"I will never lie to you. I will tell you anything you need and want to know because the truth is expedient. Anything I don't tell you will not be intentional." This was not the complete truth but convincing was all she needed to be in the moment.
"Why? Why would you? How can I know? You could be one of Billy's assets." Pete spat the word back at her.
"I had been a potential one." His line of thinking wasn't wrong, but it was small-minded and pointlessly defensive. "And you were best friends. It only matters how we use it."
"How...When...the Hell?" Pete stammered now laser focused on her crossing paths with Bill. Bill the owner of a professional private military contracting company. Bill the charming lady killer...
"Figure it out, Marine." Olivia rolled her eyes.
"I will never judge you for things you've done or choices you've made. How could I and not be a raging hypocrite? I am not trying to piss you off here- I... We," she pointed at the tablet, paused on a group photo with everyone including Olivia, at what looked like a bar probably in New York that looked familiar to him. Everyone was smiling; Sarah, Karen, even the lawyer. "are asking you to take a leap of faith."
"You want me to just believe you?" Pete scoffed. "I don't know you, lady and you sure as Hell don't know me." he sneered shaking his head.
"If David or Curtis asked you to get my back you wouldn't care if I trusted you. You would want me to take the word of our friends. Would it stop you from protecting me if I refused? Of course not. It would get a fuck ton easier if I got on board though. So, We are asking you for that very reason- this goes easier if you choose for yourself what you would want me to do if I were your asset." Olivia immediately regretted using the word asset.
"Asset, huh?" he chuckled skeptically.
She rebounded. "You can say no and we can get in each other's way, lose time and advantage." Pete remained silent and so she went on to complete her pitch.
"I will never lie to you. I will tell you anything you need and want to know because the truth is expedient. Anything I don't tell you will not be intentional." This was not the complete truth but convincing was all she needed to be in the moment.
"Why? Why would you? How can I know? You could be one of Billy's assets." Pete spat the word back at her.
"I had been a potential one." His line of thinking wasn't wrong, but it was small-minded and pointlessly defensive. "And you were best friends. It only matters how we use it."
"How...When...the Hell?" Pete stammered now laser focused on her crossing paths with Bill. Bill the owner of a professional private military contracting company. Bill the charming lady killer...
"Figure it out, Marine." Olivia rolled her eyes.
The rational connect was the mutual industry- it was likely that Olivia would have crossed paths with Russo. As was his way, Pete did not want to be rational. Olivia stood patiently while he continued to simmer. "Oh, and also Frank Reign would like to take me and you, Pete, to dinner this week. Just want to get that out there before I forget and incase it helps this along." there was a hint of snark Pete liked and had to hate her for it. Pete caught his breath at the gall and clenched his teeth. He got up from his seat to leave. He hesitated briefly before walking out the doorway he'd kicked in.
"Yaaaaaaay.'" Olivia rolled her eyes and sighed.
Pete shoved his hands in his pockets and made his way down the sidewalk to get air and plan- ultimately to leave. The sidewalk kept moving him further from his place as he processed what Vaughn had said. Among all of the bullshit she'd said- if it were him sent to back her up, he would want her to take his word. He had dealt with situations, people, that he now counted as friends because eventually, they had come to trust him and Frank had learned to trust in them. There were bad situations that might have gone easier if he'd been taken at his word- if he had taken others at theirs.
David Leiberman- he'd kept David naked and zip tied to a chair for days. He'd used Sarah to keep David in check and if not for David and Sarah's daughter Leo's bravery and trust, they all would have died. Karen. He would never hurt Karen and he had put her in danger and scared the shit out of her too many times... Karen. He could see her pale skin and bright smile so clearly. He ran his hand through his hair out of frustration and kept walking.
The sun had just begun its descent when Pete returned to the neighborhood. He'd been walking all day and stopped for a late lunch on his way back. His knees were going to kill him, that was the only thing he was certain of. Vaughn's lights were on, the curtains open and blowing in and out from the open and busted glass doors. She'd added plants while he was gone. Music was echoing , a beautiful guitar riff floated down and he couldn't help but stop to listen as it carried. Pete took his phone from his jacket pocket, scrolled through the handful of contacts, debating if and who to call. He stared at the numbers and pressed the number for Curtis. It rang once and Pete was about to hang up when Curtis answered.
"Curt." Frank said.
"Pete." Curtis laughed.
"Yeah. That's me. Pete." he grumbled.
"You all right?" Curtis asked.
"Yeah, brother." There was nothing convincing in his tone. "You?"
"Good as." Curtis laughed harder. "So?"
Pete growled. "You really good with this bullshit?"
Pete took a seat on a bench outside the building and listened intently as Curtis shared his thoughts and confidence of the plan, reassuring Pete that everyone- Karen, David, Sarah even the lawyers from Hell's Kitchen were on board. That it had been David who set things in motion because Curtis had assured David that this was the last thing Billy would ever expect. Curtis confirmed that Madani was stalking Billy, certain Bill was concealing the extent of his recovery.
"You don't think so?" Pete asked, looking at the white curtains waiting for her to walk past.
"I don't. He's a shell of a person. But- that person wasn't supposed to recover. It's been how long and he ain't dead? So if it's a matter of time? David had been trying to find Liv' the last few months."
"Liv?" Pete laughed. "But yeah. That's what she said."
"Fran...Pete," Curtis caught himself. "I know it's not how you do things."
Pete laughed.
"That's the whole point: Billy survived. We've been walking around fingers crossed since. We don't know who he will be when he wakes up."
"If." Pete grunted.
"We are planning for the when." Curtis repeated.
"I'm supposed to pretend to be in love with this girl and hide 'til Bill does something?" Pete scoffed.
"You're supposed to include her in your life while we wait. You're laying low. Living your life. The last thing Billy would suspect is for you to be with someone. That's what his people would look for- some lonely guy..." Curtis started laughing.
"Screw you, Curt." Pete chuckled.
"Some loner, no roots." Curtis's tone returned to serious and imploring. "You need a partner and don't tell me you don't. Someone to watch your six. If Billy and his guys find you and try to go after her to get to you? Oooof."
"You trust her?" Pete asked. He thought he'd caught a glimpse of her hair through the curtains billowing.
"I do. I like her." Curtis said in earnest.
"Yeah, you would." Pete smiled.
"She's funny."
"Is she?" Pete was being obstinate now.
"And she can cook." Curtis laughed heartily, thinking of the all too brief time when he'd met with her.
"Somethin' you wanna tell me, Curt? You sure you want your girlfriend babysitting me?" Pete chuckled.
Curtis laughed hard. "Ask her. She will tell you." Curtis kept laughing.
Pete laughed along. It felt good to laugh. He missed Curtis. Time allowed the pain of loneliness to become the normal state of being for the man formerly know as Frank Castle. He'd gotten used to it. Talking to Curtis was like the wound being irritated. It was front and center in Frank's chest how much he missed his brothers and how much the friendship had cost Curtis and continued to haunt their brotherhood.
"Really though. Give her a chance. For all of us." Curtis urged.
"Yeah yeah. She's got me goin' to dinner with that fighter client of hers." Pete grumbled.
"Good. Have a good time. It's okay to have a good time." Curtis couldn't help but laugh.
"I need that like another hole in the head." Pete smirked.
"You absolutely do," Curtis replied sarcastically but his tone changed. "She's got you. I wish it were me but I know she's got you."
"It's never me I'm worried about."
"It could be said that We are covered here, Pete."
"Oh yeah? How's that? You get yourself a fake girlfriend to get your six?"
"Don't I wish. No, we've got some..." Curtis paused to find the right word, "Exceptional help, if you get me."
"Roger that." Pete was surprised and curious. "I am definitely not exceptional."
"Exceptional at attracting bullets."
Pete laughed. A long moment passed. "If you need anything. If anything changes,"
"Roger that, Pete. YOU give this a chance."
"A chance for what? Is she exceptional?"
"She might be? Hell. She has to be if she didn't beat your stubborn ass for kicking in her doors."
"I'll give her that." Pete conceded as Vaughn walked past the window. "People like her always want somethin', Curt. You know that."
"She wants what we all want."
Pete did not respond. It was hard to end the call with Curtis. It'd been too long since the two friends had spoken. They chatted briefly about nothing in particular for a little while longer. Pete noted that the music coming from the girl's place had changed several times, some rock, some club crap that he hated, then wondered if he was listening to her mood. She seemed like that type.
"Yaaaaaaay.'" Olivia rolled her eyes and sighed.
Pete shoved his hands in his pockets and made his way down the sidewalk to get air and plan- ultimately to leave. The sidewalk kept moving him further from his place as he processed what Vaughn had said. Among all of the bullshit she'd said- if it were him sent to back her up, he would want her to take his word. He had dealt with situations, people, that he now counted as friends because eventually, they had come to trust him and Frank had learned to trust in them. There were bad situations that might have gone easier if he'd been taken at his word- if he had taken others at theirs.
David Leiberman- he'd kept David naked and zip tied to a chair for days. He'd used Sarah to keep David in check and if not for David and Sarah's daughter Leo's bravery and trust, they all would have died. Karen. He would never hurt Karen and he had put her in danger and scared the shit out of her too many times... Karen. He could see her pale skin and bright smile so clearly. He ran his hand through his hair out of frustration and kept walking.
The sun had just begun its descent when Pete returned to the neighborhood. He'd been walking all day and stopped for a late lunch on his way back. His knees were going to kill him, that was the only thing he was certain of. Vaughn's lights were on, the curtains open and blowing in and out from the open and busted glass doors. She'd added plants while he was gone. Music was echoing , a beautiful guitar riff floated down and he couldn't help but stop to listen as it carried. Pete took his phone from his jacket pocket, scrolled through the handful of contacts, debating if and who to call. He stared at the numbers and pressed the number for Curtis. It rang once and Pete was about to hang up when Curtis answered.
"Curt." Frank said.
"Pete." Curtis laughed.
"Yeah. That's me. Pete." he grumbled.
"You all right?" Curtis asked.
"Yeah, brother." There was nothing convincing in his tone. "You?"
"Good as." Curtis laughed harder. "So?"
Pete growled. "You really good with this bullshit?"
Pete took a seat on a bench outside the building and listened intently as Curtis shared his thoughts and confidence of the plan, reassuring Pete that everyone- Karen, David, Sarah even the lawyers from Hell's Kitchen were on board. That it had been David who set things in motion because Curtis had assured David that this was the last thing Billy would ever expect. Curtis confirmed that Madani was stalking Billy, certain Bill was concealing the extent of his recovery.
"You don't think so?" Pete asked, looking at the white curtains waiting for her to walk past.
"I don't. He's a shell of a person. But- that person wasn't supposed to recover. It's been how long and he ain't dead? So if it's a matter of time? David had been trying to find Liv' the last few months."
"Liv?" Pete laughed. "But yeah. That's what she said."
"Fran...Pete," Curtis caught himself. "I know it's not how you do things."
Pete laughed.
"That's the whole point: Billy survived. We've been walking around fingers crossed since. We don't know who he will be when he wakes up."
"If." Pete grunted.
"We are planning for the when." Curtis repeated.
"I'm supposed to pretend to be in love with this girl and hide 'til Bill does something?" Pete scoffed.
"You're supposed to include her in your life while we wait. You're laying low. Living your life. The last thing Billy would suspect is for you to be with someone. That's what his people would look for- some lonely guy..." Curtis started laughing.
"Screw you, Curt." Pete chuckled.
"Some loner, no roots." Curtis's tone returned to serious and imploring. "You need a partner and don't tell me you don't. Someone to watch your six. If Billy and his guys find you and try to go after her to get to you? Oooof."
"You trust her?" Pete asked. He thought he'd caught a glimpse of her hair through the curtains billowing.
"I do. I like her." Curtis said in earnest.
"Yeah, you would." Pete smiled.
"She's funny."
"Is she?" Pete was being obstinate now.
"And she can cook." Curtis laughed heartily, thinking of the all too brief time when he'd met with her.
"Somethin' you wanna tell me, Curt? You sure you want your girlfriend babysitting me?" Pete chuckled.
Curtis laughed hard. "Ask her. She will tell you." Curtis kept laughing.
Pete laughed along. It felt good to laugh. He missed Curtis. Time allowed the pain of loneliness to become the normal state of being for the man formerly know as Frank Castle. He'd gotten used to it. Talking to Curtis was like the wound being irritated. It was front and center in Frank's chest how much he missed his brothers and how much the friendship had cost Curtis and continued to haunt their brotherhood.
"Really though. Give her a chance. For all of us." Curtis urged.
"Yeah yeah. She's got me goin' to dinner with that fighter client of hers." Pete grumbled.
"Good. Have a good time. It's okay to have a good time." Curtis couldn't help but laugh.
"I need that like another hole in the head." Pete smirked.
"You absolutely do," Curtis replied sarcastically but his tone changed. "She's got you. I wish it were me but I know she's got you."
"It's never me I'm worried about."
"It could be said that We are covered here, Pete."
"Oh yeah? How's that? You get yourself a fake girlfriend to get your six?"
"Don't I wish. No, we've got some..." Curtis paused to find the right word, "Exceptional help, if you get me."
"Roger that." Pete was surprised and curious. "I am definitely not exceptional."
"Exceptional at attracting bullets."
Pete laughed. A long moment passed. "If you need anything. If anything changes,"
"Roger that, Pete. YOU give this a chance."
"A chance for what? Is she exceptional?"
"She might be? Hell. She has to be if she didn't beat your stubborn ass for kicking in her doors."
"I'll give her that." Pete conceded as Vaughn walked past the window. "People like her always want somethin', Curt. You know that."
"She wants what we all want."
Pete did not respond. It was hard to end the call with Curtis. It'd been too long since the two friends had spoken. They chatted briefly about nothing in particular for a little while longer. Pete noted that the music coming from the girl's place had changed several times, some rock, some club crap that he hated, then wondered if he was listening to her mood. She seemed like that type.
Pete took a deep breath and exhaled it in a rush, hoping to relieve himself of the pride that in too many moments of his life had gotten in the way. Pete felt clearer headed now, the fog of anger quelled. He waited for traffic to pass and crossed the street toward her place. He climbed the stairs one at a time now and marveled at the new front door as he reached the landing. It wasn't much different than the one he'd destroyed. Other than some dust, there was no evidence of the damage he'd done. Now he was irritated that he hadn't been able to fix it himself.
Olivia was sitting on the kitchen counter texting with her client, procrastinating on making food. She'd gotten as far as taking the ingredients from the fridge and cabinets; a steak she had started marinating that morning stared at her. There was a hesitant knock on the door. Once and then twice. Habit had her crack the kitchen drawer with the Sig, note the full knife block on the counter opposite her.
"It's open!" she called out. The music playing changed from an EDM track to a more upbeat blues-sounding artist. Pete walked in cautiously and looked at every brick and picture on the walls to avoid looking at her, closing the door behind him. He noted her hand had been resting in the drawer by her leg and that she removed it and closed it gently. Subtle. Smooth.
"Hi," she said cheerily, her smile seemed sincere enough. She completed a text and set her phone down to give Pete Castiglione her full attention. Olivia rested her hands on the edge of the counter and waited.
"Hey." Pete's voice cracked and cleared his throat. "Great security." Pete mumbled awkwardly, moving further inside, and staring at the oversized sectional, covered in giant new decorative pillows. He didn't hate it at all but decided to be obstinate- it felt better in the moment. Women and their pillows, he shook his head.
"Are you all right?" Olivia asked.
"Yeah," he looked briefly in her direction and then away.
She waited. It showed plainly on her face: patience. She would wait no matter how obtuse Pete behaved. While his was a war of unease, mistrust and frustration, Vaughn played the long game. The words he was unsure of speaking stuck in this throat.
"Are you hungry?" Olivia cut through the tension with the cleanest of strokes.
"What?" Pete hadn't meant to look at her but now couldn't look away.
"Hungry? Food? I've been avoiding cooking for the last hour. If you say you're hungry, it'll kick me in the ass to pull the trigger."
Pete's face went blank as he tried to figure out her game. "I could eat." he answered.
"I'm guessing you can handle a grill? If you get it started, I'll start the potatoes?"
"Just like that?" he asked skeptical as ever.
"Just like that." Olivia smiled. She had a beautiful smile. Pete decided it was irritating to acknowledge. He didn't come here to fight and for Curtis, he wouldn't. For now.
Olivia hopped down from the countertop to start the mashed potatoes.
The pair sat opposite each other at the table eating, her ever changing music filling the void. Olivia felt rewarded when Pete looked at his near cleaned plate. The music, he'd never heard it before- bluesy, haunting, beautiful, hung around them. Pete finished the last bite of the steak he'd grilled for them. He took in the space for the first time without hostility or avoidance; the simple rustic looking ceramic plates were hand made. The subtly ornate fork in his hand, the stained wood grain of the bar-height table, a glass open-mouthed fishbowl in the center filled with starfish. Simple. Elegant. Pete wondered if that was the right word. Whatever this was, she'd put her home together with care. Was it part of the ruse or was it her? Pete cleared his throat, looked at her directly.
"You...um...You're...somethin' else, you know?" It was not a question. "I am gonna be straight- My instinct is to put a bullet in you and go." Pete took a drink of his beer.
Olivia's expression was of amused understanding. She continued eating.
Pete smiled but left it at that.
Olivia took a drink from her beer and looked back to meet his gaze.
"What?" Pete hadn't meant to look at her but now couldn't look away.
"Hungry? Food? I've been avoiding cooking for the last hour. If you say you're hungry, it'll kick me in the ass to pull the trigger."
Pete's face went blank as he tried to figure out her game. "I could eat." he answered.
"I'm guessing you can handle a grill? If you get it started, I'll start the potatoes?"
"Just like that?" he asked skeptical as ever.
"Just like that." Olivia smiled. She had a beautiful smile. Pete decided it was irritating to acknowledge. He didn't come here to fight and for Curtis, he wouldn't. For now.
Olivia hopped down from the countertop to start the mashed potatoes.
The pair sat opposite each other at the table eating, her ever changing music filling the void. Olivia felt rewarded when Pete looked at his near cleaned plate. The music, he'd never heard it before- bluesy, haunting, beautiful, hung around them. Pete finished the last bite of the steak he'd grilled for them. He took in the space for the first time without hostility or avoidance; the simple rustic looking ceramic plates were hand made. The subtly ornate fork in his hand, the stained wood grain of the bar-height table, a glass open-mouthed fishbowl in the center filled with starfish. Simple. Elegant. Pete wondered if that was the right word. Whatever this was, she'd put her home together with care. Was it part of the ruse or was it her? Pete cleared his throat, looked at her directly.
"You...um...You're...somethin' else, you know?" It was not a question. "I am gonna be straight- My instinct is to put a bullet in you and go." Pete took a drink of his beer.
Olivia's expression was of amused understanding. She continued eating.
Pete smiled but left it at that.
Olivia took a drink from her beer and looked back to meet his gaze.
"This steak though..." he pointed at the clean plate with his fork, "This gets you an extra day. Maybe two." Then finished the mashed potatoes. "These potatoes get you that dinner with your fighter and a week on top of that." he said smirking, still chewing. The Punisher was turning on the charm offensive now.
"My dad's recipes." Olivia took the compliment and exhaled, thankful for the moment, however brief it might be.
"...Really is," Pete grinned, "...next level. Goddamn."
"Leftovers will be better." she finished her beer.
"If there are any."
All she could do was smile.
"Look. Vaughn," Pete sat back in his chair and nodded in the direction of the front doors. "I want to apologize,"
"You don't have..." She interrupted.
"Let me say what I gotta say." He wasn't angry. His sincerity was at least coming across as honest and measured. "You got to say your piece before so let me... you know." he shrugged.
She nodded and apologized for interrupting.
"I don't trust you. But- a lot of shit may not have gone sideways like they did with," he thought about Karen, David and Sarah, Madani... "...I get why you and Curt and Lieberman thought this was a solid plan and it makes sense in its' ways. If Billy comes after me, let'im. I'll protect my friends, whatever it takes."
"My dad's recipes." Olivia took the compliment and exhaled, thankful for the moment, however brief it might be.
"...Really is," Pete grinned, "...next level. Goddamn."
"Leftovers will be better." she finished her beer.
"If there are any."
All she could do was smile.
"Look. Vaughn," Pete sat back in his chair and nodded in the direction of the front doors. "I want to apologize,"
"You don't have..." She interrupted.
"Let me say what I gotta say." He wasn't angry. His sincerity was at least coming across as honest and measured. "You got to say your piece before so let me... you know." he shrugged.
She nodded and apologized for interrupting.
"I don't trust you. But- a lot of shit may not have gone sideways like they did with," he thought about Karen, David and Sarah, Madani... "...I get why you and Curt and Lieberman thought this was a solid plan and it makes sense in its' ways. If Billy comes after me, let'im. I'll protect my friends, whatever it takes."
"May I defend?" she asked.
"Go for it." Pete smirked.
"I'm not here to stop you doing anything. This is about the collective helping protect you, which does in effect help protect them."
Pete laughed. Hard. "Lady, I don't need protection." he took a long drink of his beer.
"Help." she repeated.
Pete waived his hand dismissively and leaned back in an intentionally casual manner.
"We can't know when or who Russo will be when he wakes up. It would be ridiculous not to prepare as best we can to give YOU time to prep and not run and gun chaos."
"Run and gun is what I do." Pete held his hands out, sure of himself in a way that was unique to him, she noted. "How could assigning me a girlfriend like some kind of spy bullshit be the answer to "help keep me safe?" Pete put air quotes on 'help' and 'safe' chuckling dismissively. "How long are you willing to "hang out" on the chance that Billy wakes up? Do you get paid by the hour or some kinda discount friends and family rate?"
"I'm not here to stop you doing anything. This is about the collective helping protect you, which does in effect help protect them."
Pete laughed. Hard. "Lady, I don't need protection." he took a long drink of his beer.
"Help." she repeated.
Pete waived his hand dismissively and leaned back in an intentionally casual manner.
"We can't know when or who Russo will be when he wakes up. It would be ridiculous not to prepare as best we can to give YOU time to prep and not run and gun chaos."
"Run and gun is what I do." Pete held his hands out, sure of himself in a way that was unique to him, she noted. "How could assigning me a girlfriend like some kind of spy bullshit be the answer to "help keep me safe?" Pete put air quotes on 'help' and 'safe' chuckling dismissively. "How long are you willing to "hang out" on the chance that Billy wakes up? Do you get paid by the hour or some kinda discount friends and family rate?"
Pete was not being subtle with the baiting, but Olivia remained unphased.
"It lasts as long as it needs to. The pace he's recovering at gives us time we can use. With Madani up his ass, I'm surprised Homeland hasn't suspended her. It won't get better once he's conscious. Russo is a bomb and she may as well be holding a lighter to the fuse. That being said, the first objective is providing you cover."
Pete watched her transition from casual to operator. Smooth as silk, he thought.
Olivia went on. "We can't know what contacts and access Russo still has. If he sends teams out, they'll be looking for the journeyman because that's your default. It's difficult to pinpoint someone like you, you're not the only guy in the country that moves on. But Russo also knows you're a bit of a boy scout. So If you show up on radar, it won't be just you. At first glance, it would be us and he won't see that coming from you. With a partner, it makes their hunt a lot more difficult. As for the if and when? I'm the ringer. It's a lot easier to look over your shoulder if you aren't running."
Pete watched her transition from casual to operator. Smooth as silk, he thought.
Olivia went on. "We can't know what contacts and access Russo still has. If he sends teams out, they'll be looking for the journeyman because that's your default. It's difficult to pinpoint someone like you, you're not the only guy in the country that moves on. But Russo also knows you're a bit of a boy scout. So If you show up on radar, it won't be just you. At first glance, it would be us and he won't see that coming from you. With a partner, it makes their hunt a lot more difficult. As for the if and when? I'm the ringer. It's a lot easier to look over your shoulder if you aren't running."
The logic was starting to gain traction and Pete was finding it more difficult to argue but he wasn't going to accept this without a fight.
Olivia went on. "I know you don't want a partner. It seems easier when you don't have to look out for someone else."
"Ain't that the truth." Pete finished his beer but held the cool bottle turning it absently in his hand.
"Which is why David called me- because you don't have to look out for me."
Pete's skepticism returned.
"No offense Vaughn, but..."
"None taken, it comes from a place of ignorance," she smirked "You don't know me, we haven't run ops or been in the field together. I at least appreciate that It's not because I'm a female?" it was a rhetorical question. "If you want to train? We can here," she nodded at the wrestling mat, "I can get access to places to shoot, hit up closed down factories out of state, I have contacts that could get it cleared through law enforcement channels."
"Cops. We." Pete raised an eyebrow.
"You can say no, and like I said, it won't stop me from having your back, it will only change how I go about it. That guarantees things go to shit..." Olivia had to laugh at the truth.
"Why though? Why help me? Say I do agree- You don't know me, you sure as Hell don't owe me or any of them," the disbelief shone on his face, "You're just gonna give up months? put your life on the line for ME? You know what I am and you're gonna take a bullet because my friends paid you to?"
Olivia finished her beer, still smiling. "You know the answer or you wouldn't ask."
"Pretend I don't." Pete said sternly. Olivia got up from the table to get two more beers from the fridge and handed him one before returning to her seat. She crossed her legs beneath her and twisted her long dark hair into a knot at the top of her head, something Pete realized she tended to do when she was going into business mode. Pete caught a glimpse of a long, jagged scar under her left arm. Ka-Bar most likely. That had to hurt...
"For the same reason you would- to help someone who needs the kind of help no one else can give. I don't need to serve with you for ten years to understand who you are. I know why you've done the things you've done- understand who you've killed. I have worked for, with and against the people that have tried to kill you. But. David and Sarah Lieberman. Curtis Stone. Karen Paige." Frank flinched at the mention of Karen's name. "On paper, they couldn't be more different. You are where their paths intersect. You moved Heaven and Earth and risked your life to protect them from people trying to eliminate you and used them to do it. Regardless of the danger, they want you in their lives, they care about you. There's only so much they can do to help you and so they're doing it."
Olivia went on. "I know you don't want a partner. It seems easier when you don't have to look out for someone else."
"Ain't that the truth." Pete finished his beer but held the cool bottle turning it absently in his hand.
"Which is why David called me- because you don't have to look out for me."
Pete's skepticism returned.
"No offense Vaughn, but..."
"None taken, it comes from a place of ignorance," she smirked "You don't know me, we haven't run ops or been in the field together. I at least appreciate that It's not because I'm a female?" it was a rhetorical question. "If you want to train? We can here," she nodded at the wrestling mat, "I can get access to places to shoot, hit up closed down factories out of state, I have contacts that could get it cleared through law enforcement channels."
"Cops. We." Pete raised an eyebrow.
"You can say no, and like I said, it won't stop me from having your back, it will only change how I go about it. That guarantees things go to shit..." Olivia had to laugh at the truth.
"Why though? Why help me? Say I do agree- You don't know me, you sure as Hell don't owe me or any of them," the disbelief shone on his face, "You're just gonna give up months? put your life on the line for ME? You know what I am and you're gonna take a bullet because my friends paid you to?"
Olivia finished her beer, still smiling. "You know the answer or you wouldn't ask."
"Pretend I don't." Pete said sternly. Olivia got up from the table to get two more beers from the fridge and handed him one before returning to her seat. She crossed her legs beneath her and twisted her long dark hair into a knot at the top of her head, something Pete realized she tended to do when she was going into business mode. Pete caught a glimpse of a long, jagged scar under her left arm. Ka-Bar most likely. That had to hurt...
"For the same reason you would- to help someone who needs the kind of help no one else can give. I don't need to serve with you for ten years to understand who you are. I know why you've done the things you've done- understand who you've killed. I have worked for, with and against the people that have tried to kill you. But. David and Sarah Lieberman. Curtis Stone. Karen Paige." Frank flinched at the mention of Karen's name. "On paper, they couldn't be more different. You are where their paths intersect. You moved Heaven and Earth and risked your life to protect them from people trying to eliminate you and used them to do it. Regardless of the danger, they want you in their lives, they care about you. There's only so much they can do to help you and so they're doing it."
"You. You're the answer against Russo?" Pete traded the empty beer bottle for the new one.
"We are confident in my abilities." Olivia took a drink from her beer.
"Let's get some things straight. I don't need your protection." Pete was stern, but not angry.
"It's straight." Olivia lightly raised the bottle accepting the small victory.
Pete took another long drink of his beer and allowed himself to relax some in his chair. "So we're supposed to be some kind of couple?"
"That is a lie that will not pass the smell test yet." Olivia almost choked on her beer laughing.
"No?" Pete feigned being offended.
"No." Olivia smiled fully, relaxing. "Closer to the truth we tell, the easier to sell."
"Us." Frank tried out the word.
"Letting people assume, they ask less questions. We're neighbors. You thought I was being attacked, came to save me and here we are having a thank you dinner. Hahahaha, isn't it so cute?" she mocked the last and Pete caught himself before spitting out his beer laughing.
"You made dinner for the man who kicked in your door?"
"I did because I'm grateful and it's neighborly and I thought you were hot, especially your broken nose. What you did is true and you are hot even with your ridiculous hipster hair, there's no lie to trip over. Besides- people love this kind of story. It gives them hope."
"Shhh right." He rolled his eyes. "OK, so then what?"
"Now, you go to your job, I do mine, we train, hang out, trade cards to build the foundation. That's the business." Olivia shrugged.
"Business." Pete sat processing. "I guess we'll see then."
"Does this mean I can tell Frank Reign that Pete is coming to dinner?"
Pete smirked.
"Only if you're cooking. I'm Goddamn serious about that." Pete pointed at her.
Progress. She exhaled thankfully.
"We are confident in my abilities." Olivia took a drink from her beer.
"Let's get some things straight. I don't need your protection." Pete was stern, but not angry.
"It's straight." Olivia lightly raised the bottle accepting the small victory.
Pete took another long drink of his beer and allowed himself to relax some in his chair. "So we're supposed to be some kind of couple?"
"That is a lie that will not pass the smell test yet." Olivia almost choked on her beer laughing.
"No?" Pete feigned being offended.
"No." Olivia smiled fully, relaxing. "Closer to the truth we tell, the easier to sell."
"Us." Frank tried out the word.
"Letting people assume, they ask less questions. We're neighbors. You thought I was being attacked, came to save me and here we are having a thank you dinner. Hahahaha, isn't it so cute?" she mocked the last and Pete caught himself before spitting out his beer laughing.
"You made dinner for the man who kicked in your door?"
"I did because I'm grateful and it's neighborly and I thought you were hot, especially your broken nose. What you did is true and you are hot even with your ridiculous hipster hair, there's no lie to trip over. Besides- people love this kind of story. It gives them hope."
"Shhh right." He rolled his eyes. "OK, so then what?"
"Now, you go to your job, I do mine, we train, hang out, trade cards to build the foundation. That's the business." Olivia shrugged.
"Business." Pete sat processing. "I guess we'll see then."
"Does this mean I can tell Frank Reign that Pete is coming to dinner?"
Pete smirked.
"Only if you're cooking. I'm Goddamn serious about that." Pete pointed at her.
Progress. She exhaled thankfully.
The two stayed up late talking and listening to music. When she brought out cigars, Pete couldn't have been more pleased. He hadn't put his guard down because of one dinner, but he had stopped electrifying the walls. Curiosity lingered about her fighting skills and whether or not she was enhanced or whatever people were calling them. Though Pete had intended to hold her at arm's length, Pete found Olivia to be engaging with a savage whit and sarcasm he did his best to keep up with. He hoped she was as good of a person as his friends thought she was, that this was who she really was. Pete could maybe be friends with this person. Maybe. If.
The conversation with Curtis on the phone came to mind, reminding Pete to have a good time. I am, he begrudgingly admitted. With help from the beers and two shots of whiskey, Pete decided the suspicion could wait outside for a few more hours.
He had not intended to stay over, but it was her ungodly comfortable couch with all the pillows that he woke up on; she'd covered him with a blanket. It had been a dreamless night and that was rare. Pete had slept soundly, even if for a few hours. It was still early morning, pre-dawn. Pete looked to the other side of the couch- it had been slept on. She rounded the sofa behind him and sat down where she'd slept.
"Good morning." Olivia tried to smile but yawned instead. "Go back to sleep." the small smile showed in her sleepy brown eyes.
Pete scoffed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in.
"Seriously. It's barely after 5. Sleep." Olivia was getting comfortable again on the couch.
Pete meant to leave.
"My bullshit will still be here in two hours." she smirked, turning her back to him curling up with her blanket.
All Pete could do was smile, certain he was going to leave.
It was after 8 when he woke up to the smell of coffee and food. No dreams. No nightmares. Instead, coffee, food. His stomach growled.
"Did I wake you?" Olivia apologized.
"No, it's... fine." Pete was surprised. Again. "I didn't mean to..." he said apologetically.
"Mean to what?" Olivia laughed lightly. "I'm not insulted that you went back to sleep, I couldn't wait anymore to eat."
"Hungry?" Pete mocked her from the night before.
Olivia laughed. "You give me a reason to cook and eat real food and not just a pack of lunch meat or can of tuna. So, thank you again."
He joined her in the kitchen. Olivia handed him a mug of coffee. He looked to see what she was making, his stomach rumbled again.
"Dad's recipe?"
"Mine. Hawaiian bread French toast, bacon vegetable omelets, fruit." she pointed with a paring knife.
"Goddamn, girl." was all he could muster as he inhaled the breakfast.
"It doesn't suck." she smiled, taking her time and not hiding her pride.
Olivia was at ease, but she could sense Pete tensing.
"We good?" she asked simply.
"Yeah? Yeah, it's just..." Pete scratched his head trying to find a way to explain his discomfort. "This feels like spy shit."
"Run and gun..." She understood..
"Right." he forced a smile.
"It's just hanging out. It's what people do. I'm not trying to change you." Olivia said reassuringly.
"It seems like you know a lot about this stuff...you a spook?" Pete wasn't certain he wanted the answer.
"I guess? I don't mean to be flippant. Certain kinds of training for certain kinds of ops? How do Marines put it- adapt and overcome? I go where I'm told, do what I have to." Olivia shrugged. "I like people? Always have. Usually. The rest of it never bothered me."
Pete raised an eyebrow.
"The violence stuff." Olivia clarified and threw her napkin at him.
Pete laughed, not hiding his skepticism.
"I don't see it? I've been around pipe hitters, door kickers... they're usually douche bags. Think they're hot shit and will tell you all about how hot their shit is..." Pete stared at his empty plate and checked his watch, "...Twenty-four hours ago, I was screaming in your face. Now you've cooked me two meals. You talk a lot but haven't asked questions; The kinds of questions people shouldn't need to ask but ask 'em anyway and never like the answers. I don't get it." he sat back in his chair.
"What I normally do is not this." Olivia motioned with her hand at herself and Pete. "This is waaaaay more involved."
"And coaching fighters?"
"Mostly just Frank now that his fights are fewer and further. He's moving toward broadcast; the Russians pay him a lot for his name to cover their fights."
"Is he an asset?
"No. Absolutely not. My presence would definitely be noted if I went there in any capacity other than smuggled and I avoid them as much as possible."
"That sounds serious."
"It is." her smiled faded. He waited. "I embarrassed their wrestler at three international matches and kept her from going to the Olympics. She was so juiced. Even off the 'roids, she was a beast and should have beat me. But...she didn't. Russians never forget that kind of stuff." Olivia sat back, remembering...
Olympics? Russians? "Who are you?" Pete laughed incredulous.
Olivia smiled. "I have every confidence that you will figure that out."
Pete threw her napkin back at her.
Pete returned to his apartment shortly after they finished eating, mostly to think and process without undue influence. The more he tried to pick apart the plan, the more it made sense. While "hanging out" had done nothing to prove she could handle herself, he found the suggestion of training to be compelling and almost welcome in what had been a very boring if not peaceful existence. It was not lost on Pete as he walked into his apartment that it was not home in the way that her place felt despite her only having moved in a week before.
Out of as much caution as habit, he looked over his place for bugs, cameras...anything to break from the plan and do things his way. He could pack up and be gone within the hour regardless. Pete searched high and low, every conceivable and inconceivable spot. No one had been in there and wasn't sure if he was disappointed or not. Or why. Pete sat down on the bed and picked up the book he'd been reading. He decided to shower and come back to it. Once clean and changed, he sat down again to try to read it, got three sentences further into it, then got up to get water. Pete started cleaning the virtually clean apartment. Tried to nap. Tried again to read. An innocuous word triggered thoughts of contingencies, issues, scenarios... Billy... Maria... the kids... Karen...
He'd heard Vaughn leave and return later in the afternoon; her absurd SUV could be heard blocks away. Not long after, his phone rang.
"Hey." she said cheerily.
"Hey?" Pete replied.
"I need a very large favor. Are you busy right now?"
"I've...Uuumm..." Frank looked around the room and rubbed his head, "...got some time, what's up?" So much for playing it cool, he thought.
"Do you have gear? Like sweats? or compression stuff preferably?"
"I have sweats?" Pete sounded mildly insulted.
"Awesome. Bring over what you've got. Thank you, see you in a few." Olivia hung up before Pete could change his mind.
Pete walked over a few minutes later, bag of gym clothes in hand.
"May I?" Olivia reached for it. Hesitantly, Pete handed it over.
"Frank, you remember Pete?" Olivia smirked at the fighter Frank, who was warming up on the wrestling mats where he'd been a few eventful nights ago.
Pete scoffed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in.
"Seriously. It's barely after 5. Sleep." Olivia was getting comfortable again on the couch.
Pete meant to leave.
"My bullshit will still be here in two hours." she smirked, turning her back to him curling up with her blanket.
All Pete could do was smile, certain he was going to leave.
It was after 8 when he woke up to the smell of coffee and food. No dreams. No nightmares. Instead, coffee, food. His stomach growled.
"Did I wake you?" Olivia apologized.
"No, it's... fine." Pete was surprised. Again. "I didn't mean to..." he said apologetically.
"Mean to what?" Olivia laughed lightly. "I'm not insulted that you went back to sleep, I couldn't wait anymore to eat."
"Hungry?" Pete mocked her from the night before.
Olivia laughed. "You give me a reason to cook and eat real food and not just a pack of lunch meat or can of tuna. So, thank you again."
He joined her in the kitchen. Olivia handed him a mug of coffee. He looked to see what she was making, his stomach rumbled again.
"Dad's recipe?"
"Mine. Hawaiian bread French toast, bacon vegetable omelets, fruit." she pointed with a paring knife.
"Goddamn, girl." was all he could muster as he inhaled the breakfast.
"It doesn't suck." she smiled, taking her time and not hiding her pride.
Olivia was at ease, but she could sense Pete tensing.
"We good?" she asked simply.
"Yeah? Yeah, it's just..." Pete scratched his head trying to find a way to explain his discomfort. "This feels like spy shit."
"Run and gun..." She understood..
"Right." he forced a smile.
"It's just hanging out. It's what people do. I'm not trying to change you." Olivia said reassuringly.
"It seems like you know a lot about this stuff...you a spook?" Pete wasn't certain he wanted the answer.
"I guess? I don't mean to be flippant. Certain kinds of training for certain kinds of ops? How do Marines put it- adapt and overcome? I go where I'm told, do what I have to." Olivia shrugged. "I like people? Always have. Usually. The rest of it never bothered me."
Pete raised an eyebrow.
"The violence stuff." Olivia clarified and threw her napkin at him.
Pete laughed, not hiding his skepticism.
"I don't see it? I've been around pipe hitters, door kickers... they're usually douche bags. Think they're hot shit and will tell you all about how hot their shit is..." Pete stared at his empty plate and checked his watch, "...Twenty-four hours ago, I was screaming in your face. Now you've cooked me two meals. You talk a lot but haven't asked questions; The kinds of questions people shouldn't need to ask but ask 'em anyway and never like the answers. I don't get it." he sat back in his chair.
"What I normally do is not this." Olivia motioned with her hand at herself and Pete. "This is waaaaay more involved."
"And coaching fighters?"
"Mostly just Frank now that his fights are fewer and further. He's moving toward broadcast; the Russians pay him a lot for his name to cover their fights."
"Is he an asset?
"No. Absolutely not. My presence would definitely be noted if I went there in any capacity other than smuggled and I avoid them as much as possible."
"That sounds serious."
"It is." her smiled faded. He waited. "I embarrassed their wrestler at three international matches and kept her from going to the Olympics. She was so juiced. Even off the 'roids, she was a beast and should have beat me. But...she didn't. Russians never forget that kind of stuff." Olivia sat back, remembering...
Olympics? Russians? "Who are you?" Pete laughed incredulous.
Olivia smiled. "I have every confidence that you will figure that out."
Pete threw her napkin back at her.
Pete returned to his apartment shortly after they finished eating, mostly to think and process without undue influence. The more he tried to pick apart the plan, the more it made sense. While "hanging out" had done nothing to prove she could handle herself, he found the suggestion of training to be compelling and almost welcome in what had been a very boring if not peaceful existence. It was not lost on Pete as he walked into his apartment that it was not home in the way that her place felt despite her only having moved in a week before.
Out of as much caution as habit, he looked over his place for bugs, cameras...anything to break from the plan and do things his way. He could pack up and be gone within the hour regardless. Pete searched high and low, every conceivable and inconceivable spot. No one had been in there and wasn't sure if he was disappointed or not. Or why. Pete sat down on the bed and picked up the book he'd been reading. He decided to shower and come back to it. Once clean and changed, he sat down again to try to read it, got three sentences further into it, then got up to get water. Pete started cleaning the virtually clean apartment. Tried to nap. Tried again to read. An innocuous word triggered thoughts of contingencies, issues, scenarios... Billy... Maria... the kids... Karen...
He'd heard Vaughn leave and return later in the afternoon; her absurd SUV could be heard blocks away. Not long after, his phone rang.
"Hey." she said cheerily.
"Hey?" Pete replied.
"I need a very large favor. Are you busy right now?"
"I've...Uuumm..." Frank looked around the room and rubbed his head, "...got some time, what's up?" So much for playing it cool, he thought.
"Do you have gear? Like sweats? or compression stuff preferably?"
"I have sweats?" Pete sounded mildly insulted.
"Awesome. Bring over what you've got. Thank you, see you in a few." Olivia hung up before Pete could change his mind.
Pete walked over a few minutes later, bag of gym clothes in hand.
"May I?" Olivia reached for it. Hesitantly, Pete handed it over.
"Frank, you remember Pete?" Olivia smirked at the fighter Frank, who was warming up on the wrestling mats where he'd been a few eventful nights ago.
Olivia took the gym bag to the dining table to look through what Fran- Pete, she corrected herself and grinned, had brought. Frank the fighter laughed, earnestly pleased to see Pete and crossed the living room, holding his hand out as he approached.
"Good to see you, bro. Thanks so much for this, I owe you." Frank's grip enveloped Pete's hand.
Pete tried to smile, mostly confusion on his face, looking to Frank and then Vaughn.
"I didn't tell Pete why I invited him, mostly so he would have to back out to your face, Frank." Olivia said dryly, taking inventory of Pete's collection of t-shirts and shorts.
"Come with me, please." She said to Pete and headed to her room. Pete followed her hesitantly to find her tossing various compression shirts and leggings on the bed. Pete recognized them for what they were, but his pride only screamed SPANDEX!
"So for Frank's training tonight I need you to be the stand in for his opponent? You're about the dude's height and your reach is about the same." Olivia explained, distracted trying to find gear to fit Pete. She looked at Pete briefly, seeing his confusion and skepticism. "Nothing heavy duty and I will owe you huge and you will be well fed." Olivia found leggings and a rashguard that would fit Pete and set them on the bed.
"You're not even going to ask me if I am OK with this?" he held up the gear in disdain.
"Nope. But you can tell Frank if you like?" Olivia went to leave him to change and smacked Pete's ass for good measure.
...More Surprises
Pete hadn't known what to expect from the training session but to say that he was impressed by Olivia's abilities and knowledge would have been an understatement. She was as good of an instructor as she was strong, and she was strong. Pete knew when someone was pulling punches and the girl was efforting to keep them checked. She'd wrapped Pete and Frank's wrists and then wrapped Frank's ankles and taped his knees. Frank gifted Pete a set of new MMA gloves. Initially, Pete had opted for a t-shirt and shorts over the compression gear, but he wasn't halfway through the warmups before the t-shirt came off. He would have taken off the rashguard but thought better of it given the scars. Scars meant questions and answers he did not want to give to some MMA fighter.
Olivia had an organized and thoughtful compilation of Frank's opponent, broken down into various stances, tactics and habits. She didn't overload Frank with options but presented functional multi-purpose tactics that suited his skill set. She was a clear effective teacher and before Pete realized, he was engrossed.
"Good to see you, bro. Thanks so much for this, I owe you." Frank's grip enveloped Pete's hand.
Pete tried to smile, mostly confusion on his face, looking to Frank and then Vaughn.
"I didn't tell Pete why I invited him, mostly so he would have to back out to your face, Frank." Olivia said dryly, taking inventory of Pete's collection of t-shirts and shorts.
"Come with me, please." She said to Pete and headed to her room. Pete followed her hesitantly to find her tossing various compression shirts and leggings on the bed. Pete recognized them for what they were, but his pride only screamed SPANDEX!
"So for Frank's training tonight I need you to be the stand in for his opponent? You're about the dude's height and your reach is about the same." Olivia explained, distracted trying to find gear to fit Pete. She looked at Pete briefly, seeing his confusion and skepticism. "Nothing heavy duty and I will owe you huge and you will be well fed." Olivia found leggings and a rashguard that would fit Pete and set them on the bed.
"You're not even going to ask me if I am OK with this?" he held up the gear in disdain.
"Nope. But you can tell Frank if you like?" Olivia went to leave him to change and smacked Pete's ass for good measure.
...More Surprises
Pete hadn't known what to expect from the training session but to say that he was impressed by Olivia's abilities and knowledge would have been an understatement. She was as good of an instructor as she was strong, and she was strong. Pete knew when someone was pulling punches and the girl was efforting to keep them checked. She'd wrapped Pete and Frank's wrists and then wrapped Frank's ankles and taped his knees. Frank gifted Pete a set of new MMA gloves. Initially, Pete had opted for a t-shirt and shorts over the compression gear, but he wasn't halfway through the warmups before the t-shirt came off. He would have taken off the rashguard but thought better of it given the scars. Scars meant questions and answers he did not want to give to some MMA fighter.
Olivia had an organized and thoughtful compilation of Frank's opponent, broken down into various stances, tactics and habits. She didn't overload Frank with options but presented functional multi-purpose tactics that suited his skill set. She was a clear effective teacher and before Pete realized, he was engrossed.
When it came time to warm up, Pete sat slack jawed for several moments. Her flexibility and agility were next level. He was more than relieved when she gave him considerably more modified options. Despite the acrobatic nature, Pete realized it was all wrestling and martial arts centered. After fifteen minutes on his own, she pulled Pete aside to go over a chain of techniques for him to use against Frank.
"It's harder when there's rules," she smirked at Pete. "It's a legit test of personal control, muscle memory and instinct. Knowing where you are in the cage is super key. Frank gives up two inches of reach but he has better balance, lower body strength and everyone always forgets about his jits."
Pete raised an eyebrow.
"Jiu jitsu. Sorry." Olivia and Frank laughed.
"Right. Jits." Pete rolled his eyes at himself for not making the connection.
"And you," Olivia pointed at Frank, "...make sure to stretch your back extra and I will show Pete how to fall."
Pete's eyebrow went up again.
"Relax and breathe." Frank told Pete as he stretched. "Giving up the back is not an option. Did you by chance wrestle in high school?"
"Football."
Frank shrugged, "Better than having to undo old habits from wrestling."
"I know you've done some boxing and stuff, but mostly I need you to put what you know aside and be him." Olivia pointed at the paused video. "Do your best to react like he would so that Frank can react to him."
"Copy that." Pete nodded.
Olivia winked at him.
"All right, hands up." she instructed Pete, who did his best to adjust to a similar stance. Olivia adjusted his hands and foot position then stood in front of him.
"Remember to breathe, don't cross your feet..."
He mimicked her, trying to be as light on his feet as she looked to be, staying just outside of arms reach. She was so fast, he couldn't remember seeing her change levels lowering toward the mat before springing at and capturing his legs. Pete was certain time stopped and that he was frozen midair upended before landing flat on his back. The wrestling mat saved him from the pain but not from the shock of having his breath knocked out of him.
"Breathe breathe breathe," Frank smirked, still stretching off to the side. She helped him get to his feet. "Sorry bro. She's fucking fast. It won't get better." the fighter laughed.
"Yeah thanks, bro." Pete laughed and tried to shake it off.
Her speed never stopped being a surprise to Pete, but his reflexes were kicking in as he got used to using what she taught him. It wasn't long until Pete was rolling with Frank. They trained for over an hour on stand up and then groundwork.
"Good...good. Frank, watch your hip...bring your elbow tight...Pete, clench the wrist, perfect... Frank, now scoot that hip, scoot scoot...money." Pete tapped as best he could, and Frank released Pete's arm from the lock it was in. The two men were dripping in sweat head to toe and winded from the work. Frank got to his feet first and offered his hand to Pete.
"Six to eight months, you could be in the cage." Frank complimented.
"Yeah, I think my punching bag days are behind me."
"I'm serious, bro." Frank grabbed two bottles of water and handed Pete and gulped down half the bottle in a moment. "Between Liv," Frank waved the bottle in Olivia's direction, "and some of the other coaches I've got, you'd be good to go. Crowds would love you in the Asian market from fight one."
Pete had to laugh. "We'll see."
"Say the word, we'll make it happen." Frank finished his water and went to answer his cell.
Olivia approached Pete with a bottle of chocolate milk and tossed one to Frank.
Pete's skepticism was evident.
"It helps with recovery. I promise." She then drank a bottle of her own.
Frank finished his call.
"That was Jen. A car is coming to take me to chryo. You should come, it's the least I can do." Frank said to Pete. Pete was about to decline but somehow seeing her amused face stopped him.
"Liv, you know you're welcome." Frank offered.
"No no, you guys go, you did the work. I'll clean up."
Pete found himself in a trap he stepped into and didn't mind. There was an ease about Frank and the girl and Curtis' words urging him to accept things while they were good.
"It'll change your life, bro." Frank clapped a friendly massive hand on Pete's shoulder and without ceremony began to change in front of them. Pete and Olivia exchanged glances and turned away out of general consideration. Pete followed Olivia to her room.
"Do I want to know what we're doing?" Pete asked. Olivia handed him his clothes to change.
"Chryotherapy. It'll help with the recovery. You're going to stand in a freezer for a minute or so." she laughed.
"It's harder when there's rules," she smirked at Pete. "It's a legit test of personal control, muscle memory and instinct. Knowing where you are in the cage is super key. Frank gives up two inches of reach but he has better balance, lower body strength and everyone always forgets about his jits."
Pete raised an eyebrow.
"Jiu jitsu. Sorry." Olivia and Frank laughed.
"Right. Jits." Pete rolled his eyes at himself for not making the connection.
"And you," Olivia pointed at Frank, "...make sure to stretch your back extra and I will show Pete how to fall."
Pete's eyebrow went up again.
"Relax and breathe." Frank told Pete as he stretched. "Giving up the back is not an option. Did you by chance wrestle in high school?"
"Football."
Frank shrugged, "Better than having to undo old habits from wrestling."
"I know you've done some boxing and stuff, but mostly I need you to put what you know aside and be him." Olivia pointed at the paused video. "Do your best to react like he would so that Frank can react to him."
"Copy that." Pete nodded.
Olivia winked at him.
"All right, hands up." she instructed Pete, who did his best to adjust to a similar stance. Olivia adjusted his hands and foot position then stood in front of him.
"Remember to breathe, don't cross your feet..."
He mimicked her, trying to be as light on his feet as she looked to be, staying just outside of arms reach. She was so fast, he couldn't remember seeing her change levels lowering toward the mat before springing at and capturing his legs. Pete was certain time stopped and that he was frozen midair upended before landing flat on his back. The wrestling mat saved him from the pain but not from the shock of having his breath knocked out of him.
"Breathe breathe breathe," Frank smirked, still stretching off to the side. She helped him get to his feet. "Sorry bro. She's fucking fast. It won't get better." the fighter laughed.
"Yeah thanks, bro." Pete laughed and tried to shake it off.
Her speed never stopped being a surprise to Pete, but his reflexes were kicking in as he got used to using what she taught him. It wasn't long until Pete was rolling with Frank. They trained for over an hour on stand up and then groundwork.
"Good...good. Frank, watch your hip...bring your elbow tight...Pete, clench the wrist, perfect... Frank, now scoot that hip, scoot scoot...money." Pete tapped as best he could, and Frank released Pete's arm from the lock it was in. The two men were dripping in sweat head to toe and winded from the work. Frank got to his feet first and offered his hand to Pete.
"Six to eight months, you could be in the cage." Frank complimented.
"Yeah, I think my punching bag days are behind me."
"I'm serious, bro." Frank grabbed two bottles of water and handed Pete and gulped down half the bottle in a moment. "Between Liv," Frank waved the bottle in Olivia's direction, "and some of the other coaches I've got, you'd be good to go. Crowds would love you in the Asian market from fight one."
Pete had to laugh. "We'll see."
"Say the word, we'll make it happen." Frank finished his water and went to answer his cell.
Olivia approached Pete with a bottle of chocolate milk and tossed one to Frank.
Pete's skepticism was evident.
"It helps with recovery. I promise." She then drank a bottle of her own.
Frank finished his call.
"That was Jen. A car is coming to take me to chryo. You should come, it's the least I can do." Frank said to Pete. Pete was about to decline but somehow seeing her amused face stopped him.
"Liv, you know you're welcome." Frank offered.
"No no, you guys go, you did the work. I'll clean up."
Pete found himself in a trap he stepped into and didn't mind. There was an ease about Frank and the girl and Curtis' words urging him to accept things while they were good.
"It'll change your life, bro." Frank clapped a friendly massive hand on Pete's shoulder and without ceremony began to change in front of them. Pete and Olivia exchanged glances and turned away out of general consideration. Pete followed Olivia to her room.
"Do I want to know what we're doing?" Pete asked. Olivia handed him his clothes to change.
"Chryotherapy. It'll help with the recovery. You're going to stand in a freezer for a minute or so." she laughed.
Olivia went to leave but stopped and looked at him. "Much is owed. Much will be given." she smiled. It was a pretty good smile, Pete thought, but he was confused.
"It means I will repay what I owe." Olivia explained.
"Bet your ass." Pete smiled as she left the room and Pete peeled off his sweaty clothes quickly to change.
"Car's here, bro." Frank called from the living room.
"Car's here, bro." Frank called from the living room.
Pete pulled his shirt on and went to went Olivia and put a finger to her chest, an exaggerated but no less sincere smile on his face. "Much is absolutely owed." Pete said quietly through the smile. Was he flirting? "Remember that."
"Liv, we'll be seeing you soon. Thank you," Frank hugged Olivia.
The therapy center wasn't far. The employees took photos with Frank, Pete stood to the side trying to stay out of the way. It wasn't until he saw the chambers that looked like something out of a science fiction movie, Pete was alarmed. If he took off his shirt, his scars would show. Scars meant questions and there were too many and they were too nasty not to remember. Before Pete had a chance to object, Frank left the room with the manager. When they returned, the employees were ushered out of the room "for privacy." the manager had said.
"I told them I couldn't have witnesses to how out of shape I am." Frank said. "I kicked him extra cash. No worries."
Pete was confused.
"Just strip to your shorts and step in, we're good. I got you." Frank turned his back to Pete and began taking off his clothes until he was only in compression shorts.
Still on alert, Pete followed the instructions. In the unit, no one would see the scars.
"Breathe deep, it's going to suck at first but it's worth it." Frank smiled and got into his chryo tank.
"Do your thing, Dave." Frank called out to the manager who returned to start the tanks.
"Liv, we'll be seeing you soon. Thank you," Frank hugged Olivia.
The therapy center wasn't far. The employees took photos with Frank, Pete stood to the side trying to stay out of the way. It wasn't until he saw the chambers that looked like something out of a science fiction movie, Pete was alarmed. If he took off his shirt, his scars would show. Scars meant questions and there were too many and they were too nasty not to remember. Before Pete had a chance to object, Frank left the room with the manager. When they returned, the employees were ushered out of the room "for privacy." the manager had said.
"I told them I couldn't have witnesses to how out of shape I am." Frank said. "I kicked him extra cash. No worries."
Pete was confused.
"Just strip to your shorts and step in, we're good. I got you." Frank turned his back to Pete and began taking off his clothes until he was only in compression shorts.
Still on alert, Pete followed the instructions. In the unit, no one would see the scars.
"Breathe deep, it's going to suck at first but it's worth it." Frank smiled and got into his chryo tank.
"Do your thing, Dave." Frank called out to the manager who returned to start the tanks.
************************FILL******************************
RESTLESS
Dinner with Frank and Jen felt like the start of something Pete hadn't been experienced in a while- life. He knew Jen was dying to meddle with him and Vaughn, but Frank and Vaughn subtly expertly navigated her on to other projects skillfully. Work. Train. Dinner. Work. Train. Dinner. Work, lunch of leftovers. Train. Dinner. There were the weekend breakfasts before training. There was coffee. There were dinners that weren't dates but didn't stop wait staff or various grocery store employees suggesting and inquiring. Days rolled into a week and then two. The third week was coming to a close, Frank was going back to Las Vegas and meals were starting to feel different. Frank leaving was the first catalyst for change in Pete.
Frank reminded Pete of so many of his brothers in the Marines, mannerisms from this guy, humor like that guy, thoughtfulness like Curtis and a kinship he'd once felt about Bill. Frank was the opposite of everything Pete assumed MMA fighters would be like. He understood the marketing of aggression and that like many Marines, the implied life of violence was not all they were made of. Even then, Frank's absence after returning with Jen to Vegas was immediately felt. There was an ease about Frank at all times, unconcerned by much that consumed others. Frank cared about his family, loved his wife and kids, owned his failures as a father, husband and fighter. He was open about his struggle with low testosterone after years of overcompensating to get through the rigors and challenges of the early days in the sport.
"Shameless vulnerability," Vaughn said one day over lunch at a local place that made blueberry ricotta pancakes with lemon curd that she inhaled every damn time. Her tone was one of admiration.
"You like him a lot." Pete said and unceremoniously inhaled bites of his own pancakes.
"I really do. He's one of the few real people I've met in that whole world. He's such a nerd's nerd and we geek out so bad," Vaughn laughed hard, "I think that's the singular reason Jen accepted me- she could send me out with him to see movies or go buy some collectible and have someone to tell all about it that was absolutely not her."
"Do you get toys too?" Pete smirked.
Vaughn choked on her food from laughing.
"Have you seen my house? Damn no I do not collectibles. All that is on the list of "stuff" I have no interest in. I'll see all the movies 500 times, I'll read the comics, watch the shows. I'll go to a convention."
Pete choked on his bite of food laughing.
"I've only been to a few and some of those were with Frank and the VIP experience? Sir, yes. Other times was great being able to walk around, just be. In the middle of other people's worlds and happiness with no care about mine."
"Way to get deep over breakfast." Pete struggled to keep a straight face.
"You should sarcasm more often. Looks good on you." Olivia quipped. Pete started laughing and looked up, her smile froze him. The smile lines around her bright topaz eyes, the morning light cut through the blinds across her face.
"So you're saying I look good now? Pete's cheeks flushed as he realized he'd just flirted.
"I'm always saying it, even if I don't say it." she met his flushed cheeks with her own and left it there. "There's a part of me always waiting for the call, someone has told him something and we can't be friends anymore. His family has always welcomed me, his bosses at the company I think know what I do but have always supported me coaching him. There are people in the world that just feel special. Somehow someway, they click in my heart? That's cheesy...I'm lucky to be in their lives, like knowing them makes me special and also unworthy but so grateful." she shrugged. "That's Frank."
"At dinner, Jen kept making comments about when they first met?
"She was a dancer, he was a bouncer at the club."
"I can see that," Pete didn't mean it in a judgmental way but Olivia laughed all the same.
"Oh you haven't yet." Olivia smirked.
Pete's days at work occasionally dragged, there was training or plans. He caught himself checking his phone for missed calls or texts. Leaving it in the car out of frustration of the distraction did not help. His internal nagging was wearing on him. Work was hard enough on top of the training, the life outside of work felt meaningful. He had his slips into defensive passive-aggressive responses that were now startling to him, her reaction the slightest micro expression in her cheeks, never more than that. He made it a priority to apologize going forward. Acknowledging his own shortcomings felt monumental, second only to the embarrassment of his poor behavior.
Pete did notice the first time she seemed to cut training short. Then the mornings began where she did not text or call. The evenings she was not home when he returned from work, the sudden changes in training. Frank was not there to fill the void of distraction. Vaughn offered apologies but no explanation. The act of trying to make up reasons was wearing on him. He tried making a joke one afternoon to get an answer about where she was going or what she was doing and felt like an ass for doing it.
"Just running errands, keeping busy. Cabin fever."
"You posted up outside of my job or something?" he immediately wished he could take it back.
There was an awkward silence and a confused chuckle from her. "I'm sure you can handle yourself."
As the week progressed, she asked for rainchecks, seemed to be staying up late only to get up early in the morning. She did not text or call Wednesday or Thursday. Food was delivered multiple times. Friday afternoon when he returned from work, he caught glimpses of her training in the living room. A few hours later, she hustled down the stairs to the street, a backpack slung over her shoulders and a duffle bag. She was in a hoodie, the hood up. The streetlights had been on for a bit but there wasn't a lot of light. He watched as she hustled down the street. Pete's curiosity and concern won out. Quickly he changed clothes and grabbed his baseball cap and jacket.
Pete reached the street as she rounded the corner a few blocks ahead. He was nearly jogging, trying not to let his urgency give him an air of suspicion. Pete finally made it up the street and rounded the corner where he'd seen her go. A few more blocks up, there was a crowd of people outside a club they'd driven passed multiple times, he drove passed it daily going to and from the job site. Music lingered onto the street; it was hard to decipher what kind. There was a growing crowd queuing on both sides of the doors, he caught sight as doormen let her cut the line. Pete stopped in his tracks for a moment then continued on. As he approached, he listened to the crowd goers, looked at the marquis above. He took a better look at the crowd and threw his hat on backwards and tied his sweatshirt around his waist then put on his coat. Rushing he took out his phone, the lines were beginning to move. Technology for life purposes was not his strong suit and frustration was building. On impulse, he called Leiberman.
It rang multiple times before David answered. "Pete? Is everything all right?"
"Leiberman, I need help fast, I don't have time for questions. I'm at a place called the Grand, I need a ticket to-"
David went to interrupt and then Sarah got on the line and started talking. Pete finally cut her off and told her where he was and what he needed, which only led to more questions and then her relaying to Pete that he needed a smartphone to access the ticket, then the two began talking at each other. Pete couldn't understand or get a word in edgewise. Sarah cut David off and said, "Give us 5 minutes."
"Three," David said in the background.
"Please just get this done." Pete was wishing he'd called Leo instead.
"Fr-Pete what is going on? Why are you going here? Is everything okay? Is Liv okay? Do you need backu-"
"Sarah I am fine, okay? I'm just looking into something. It's fine." Pete grumbled. There would be no reassuring her.
"Fr-goddammit-Pete, do you need anything? Information on the owner? What's up?" David shouted in the background.
"Leiberman, I do not have time for you bullshit right now. Can you get me into this thing or not?" Pete lost his temper getting the attention of those around him.
"Give me a minute!" David yelled from behind Sarah, rustling around their bedroom and feverishly trying to log into his computer.
The lines started to move, faster than back in the day with paper tickets. Attendees to whatever this was held their phones out and were given bracelets of varying colors.
"Leiberman, let's go," Pete growled impatiently. Sarah started peppering Pete with questions so fast he couldn't answer them if he wanted to. He could hear Leiberman's muffled voice in the background but couldn't tell if he was talking to himself or Sarah. Two minutes maybe three seemed like an hour as Pete took steps at a time, glancing at the door and the patrons. One of Sarah's questions broke through Pete's vigilance and impatience.
"Isn't her smile the greatest?"
"Her what?" But he'd heard just fine.
"Her smile. She's...it's really special."
Pete agreed in his own mind but refused to give anyone the satisfaction of acknowledging it.
"Yeah, I guess." Pete grumbled. He looked again to the bouncers who were now looking at him. One of them spoke into his headset and nodded at Pete then motioned for Pete to come forward when Pete stiffened. David got on the line, but Pete closed the phone. Pete slid through the patrons and approached.
It was much louder in front of the entrance, the bouncer leaned over to speak to Pete.
"Smart phones, bro." quipped the large man dressed in all black and took multiple colors bands from the rack on the wall. "Lemme get a wrist." the man attached bands of red, hot pink, blue and back around Pete's wrist.
"Do I get to keep them?" Pete joked with a straight face.
"Beer bars on the left, alcohol and food on the right if you need service asap. A waitress will flag a table for you. Have a good time, glad to have you."
'Glad to have you?' Pete thought to himself.
"Thanks, bro. Appreciate you." Pete tried to be personable. Not knowing what Leiberman had done or said to get him in now made Pete nervous. On cue, a text came through from Leiberman. 'They think you're an all-star hockey player.'
Pete swore under his breath and clapped the phone shut.
The bass of the music as he made his way inside pounded against him. The place was packed, the stage was high and littered with artists behind elaborate dj stations and keyboards. A spectrum of colored lights flashed and arced. A tall brunette with colorful tattoos approached him with a tablet, smiling and greeted him with excitement. She held the tablet to her chest and leaned in to be heard.
"My name is Drea, welcome! Do you have a seating preference? We have VIP tables in the loft, an elevated private lounge, your drinks are on the house, just take care of your waitress?" she pointed beyond the crowd dancing and listening to the music enthusiastically to a large open area with sofas and tables to the side of the stage. "Or we have tables here in the back, they're a little more private and closer to the bar? The waitresses come around about every twenty minutes?" The tables in the back were on a platform divided by heavy deep purple floor to ceiling curtains hanging from hooks on a track so they could be opened or enclose a single and multiple tables. Leather padded benches were built into the wall with art lit by dimmed above each, a round table and two bar chairs, black battery-operated candles of various sizes flickered on each table.
Pete decided on the last booth closest to the bar that offered the best view of the place. He pointed with his hand and leaned in to tell her.
"Can I get an order in for you now? And maybe your autograph?" She replied. Pete laughed awkwardly.
"Darlin, I'll take three of whatever's on tap and get me a pen and paper," Pete put on the charm offensive. The waitress put her hand excitedly on his forearm and thanked him before tapping in his drink order on the tablet and ushering him to the booth. Pete slid onto the bench seat, the waitress beamed a smile and stepped up onto the platform so he could hear her.
"There's a call button here," she leaned over generously to point at a small button hidden by the candles. "If you need service, go ahead and turn it on and off. If you need security, just leave it on." she waved at a brick wall of a man dressed in black, his t-shirt looked like it was hanging on for dear life.
"This is Winston. He's head of VIP security." she whispered something to Winston who didn't need to be told Pete was VIP, he was as eager to smile as Vaughn. Whatever his size or ability, there was a joy in the man's eyes. Pete stood without hesitating to shake his hand.
"Good to meet you, boss." Pete gave a firm sincere handshake.
"Absolutely, mate. Let me know if you need anything. I'll be up and down the walk." Winston's New Zealand accent was as heavy as he was.
The concierge excused herself, Pete took the opportunity to step closer to speak more quietly and be heard.
"Winston, what exactly is all this?"
The big man laughed.
"My friend told me I should come check it out. I wasn't sure what to expect, I'm still not." Pete lied.
"It's just an edm show, lot of dj's dancing and partying. Up here you'll be able to have your drinks in peace, enjoy the music. There's 4 acts, they mix an' match from time to time. Closer is the big name, been around a while."
"You listen to...EDM?" Pete asked.
"Just when I'm here. It's not my thing but some of it's pretty good. Great to work out too I guess."
Pete laughed. "You sound like my friend."
"Tell 'em to come out then. Lemme know, I'll get them in."
"Thanks brother, I appreciate it. I think she may already be here."
"Well well. If you find her, lemme know." Winston smiled as though he presumed Pete was there intentionally to run into 'her' intentionally. It was 'her' words then that resonated about saying just enough and letting others presume. Pete shrugged sheepishly.
"You know how it is. Sometimes you gotta put in a little work." Pete shook Winston's hand again and took his seat as a waitress approached with three tall pints. Pete mumbled something about liquid courage and Winston laughed before excusing himself to do his rounds.
Some of the music was better than others, much of it sounded the same to him. Pete took long drinks of beers to survey the growing crowd. It was getting warmer in the club and it was entirely possible she'd taken off her hoodie. The concierge dropped by with the pen and paper. Pete had no idea who they thought he was, so he did his best swirl scribble with a thanks for the assist, it sounded like a cheesy hockey line. He couldn't be certain when or if the acts were changing and he was no lightweight but knew it wouldn't help spotting her if he consumed much more beer. It was then the waitress came by and put a large platter of food- an upscale looking cheeseburger, steak fries with a fancy looking cup of ketchup and coleslaw on the table with two more beers and a shot of whiskey.
"On the house!" she yelled over the music. Pete went through the sincere but no less exaggerated motions of gratefulness, clasped his hands to his heart and mimicked Vaughn but profusely repeating 'thank yous.' He'd never been so glad Frank had handed him a fold of cash and told himself to thank him later.
Hastily Pete chowed down occasionally scanning the crowd. It was one of the better burgers he'd had. The crowd was at capacity; Pete ordered more beers. He asked Winston if the privacy curtains could be closed a little more, Pete claim he wanted to relax. Winston accommodated. No vantage was cut off.
Two hours in and he hadn't seen Vaughn. There were several women who at a glance might have been and then clearly were not. Was she with someone? Was he coming at this from the wrong angle? Pete needed to use the restroom, it felt somehow important to mission as it were. There was a small line, but it allowed Pete to scan the crowd. There were more possibilities but still no sight. He'd considered bringing Winston in on the search but decided against it, the stalker vibe was not the vibe he was going for, especially with a staff full of people thinking he was some semi-local pro athlete.
When Pete emerged from the restroom, crews were moving and arranging equipment on stage. Winston appeared from nowhere, smile intact and parted the crowd to get Pete back to his table. It felt like a spotlight on him that he did not want. There were three more beers on the table.
"Any luck with your girl, bro?" Winston asked as Pete slid onto the back bench again.
"Nah men. I'm starting to think she's not even here." he replied.
"You got a picture, bro?" Winston asked.
Pete hesitated but took out his phone and pulled up one that he'd taken of her and Frank for Frank.
Winston managed to smile bigger, clearly recognizing Frank. His eyebrows furrowed some and his smile turned into a smirk.
"Yeah, she here, bro." Winston kept smirking, knocked on the table and walked off.
Pete sat puzzled and grabbed a beer. The lights dimmed and the crowd erupted. Various sounds of finally guitar and drum checks echoed. If she was here, obviously this last band's set might be his last chance to find her.
A man's voice, rich and very British, began speaking as colorful lights began to flash at various points around the stage. The bassist began plucking different chords, lights flared behind one of the dj booths and the crowd roared as the first song began. One song seemingly flowed into another, though the tempo and vibes vacillated wildly. The crowd sang every lyric, danced, swayed with cellphones like little lights in the dark. Pete was certain he'd heard some of these before, that Vaughn regularly listened to this band and he was now questioning his decision to follow her if she'd just wanted to come so a band she loved. Why would she invite him? He'd regularly dismissed much of the music she liked even when his criticism hadn't been necessary. Guilt washed over him like a flood thinking of how hard he was on her over nothing at all. Posting his elbow on the table and then planting his face in that palm, he gripped the beer with the other hand. The singer began to speak to the crowd, the usual frontman 'Greetings Insert city here' shpeel.
Pete tuned out, though comforted by the man's familiar voice. The crowd cheered, Pete sat up and back in a huff, slid his body some until he was leaning back on the bench and staring at his beer. Smoke machines began pushing out a white haze. A guitar and bass started a very pronounced beat, the drums followed, and the crowd responded. The dj started doing whatever dj's do. The crowd managed to reach a new height of sound recognizing the song, Pete recognized it as well as one of a handful of songs Vaughn could not help but subtly drum to- every time they were in the truck. Pete glanced up at the stage, the lights had rolled over the band and were cycling through patterns. The smoke obscured the band and crowd; everyone became a shadow amid the light-colored puffs of smoke. The vocals began. But it wasn't the band's British singer, it was a woman. A surge of sound erupted from the crowd. Pete sat frozen- was he buzzed? Was there something in the smoke making his head feel muddled as something nagged at him at the back of his mind. He was locked in place, waiting for confirmation?- he didn't know for what.
She sang "...you don't like me much, well me neither. I'm in you, you're in me'," They were in the truck driving to the airport to get Frank and Jen. And in her living room warming up for training...Pete's head snapped up looking at the stage- she wasn't there at the mic, the lead male singer was dancing and encouraging the crowd to clap. His eyes darted from band member to band member, the shadows always falling to the next place he looked. He opted to go one band member at a time until they were illuminated. Bassist? Male. Guitar one? Male. Two? Male. DJ? Male. Drummer? He waited for the lights to illuminate even for a second. The silhouette was vague, hard to tell about the build and shape of the shoulders. It wasn't enough to be almost certain it was her, he'd only ever heard her sing under her breath in a bit here or there. If it was her, she was very good. He recognized the buildup of the song and remained locked on to the drummer, breath held tightly in his chest waiting, waiting...
"Gonna follow the light to the love, gonna follow the light to the love..." it was at first only her voice, a single drum beat and the repeating bassline, the crowd clapping to the beat, Pete subconsciously began to mouth the lyrics.
"She's so good, brother! Well done!" Winston squeezed Pete's shoulder supportively. "Wanna get a better view?" Winston didn't wait for a response and had Pete up the side of the stage a few feet from her. She was locked in, sweating in a cut off t-shirt, baseball cap backwards, the swishy wide leg corduroy pants he hated, sweat bands and bracelets halfway up her forearms. There were streaks of heavy glitter under her eyes and on her cheeks. It was through someone's video phone that Pete realized there was no clear shot of her face at any point. He smirked to himself.
The song paused, the stage went dark and then every stage light of ever color practically exploded out toward the audience as the entire band kicked back in, the familiar frantic beat of the song, her voice echoing at him, "Well I've gone restless and I don't care. I've got fifteen bucks of savoir faire..." in the frantic shift of the lights, he got a split second to really get a good look at her. His mouth open, a half-dumb smile of surprise, Pete shifted in his seat to listen more intently than he'd ever listened to music lest this was the one and only time this chance would come. A sly smiling face appeared from around the purple privacy curtain. All Pete could do was point in the direction of the stage causing Winston to crow with laughter. Pete immediately moved from the bench seat to the bar chair close to Winston, the two men clasped each other by the shoulder.
"BRO!" was all Pete could get out.
"When it's over, you want me to tell her you're here?"
"NO! No god no! I'll just listen and dip out. Thank you though, bro!" Pete was giddy and decided he wanted to remain that way. He sat down in the chair, drank his beer and did his very best to sing with the crowd, with Vaughn, nodding and swaying to the rhythm, a smile cemented on his face.
Three more songs she played and sang, had Pete on his feet feeling embraced by the music and her voice, accepting the beer might be the catalyst. What would be her final song sat him down on a stool Winston got for him. There was a shuffling of musicians and dj's, Vaughn still managed to be the shadow between the constantly moving lights. Pete couldn't look away, wondering if she could see him, if she somehow knew. The lights went out and a single dim light surrounded a singer from one of the earlier bands. The drums started and then the synths.
"It's gotta be the right time, it's gotta be the right one," the singer's voice was softer than the last, the song wasn't slow but had a different tone from the headliner. There was a fullness to the melody, Pete swayed to it without realizing. Vaughn was out of view but Pete saw her clearly in his mind. "If only I could silence all this noise, the chaos in my heart. It's killing me to be all alone. Wanna tear down my defenses, wanna quiver at your touch." The last line the singer held and let drift off until only the music remained for several beats. Maybe it was the beer- sure, it's the beer, Pete thought to himself as the singer went into the chorus. "Take a ride, you don't even have to mean it. And if you wanna stay the night, I promise I'll keep it secret. Stay awhile, baby you won't regret it. Just let it out, love is the way to say it," the voice drifted off again into the music.
In a very different pitch than the other songs accompanied by only the synthesizers, her voice warm and inviting echoed out and over him like velvet. Pete's eyes closed, his lips tried to follow along with the words. "Could it be the right time? Could he be the right one? I linger in the shadows of my doubt," Pete smirked. She probably hadn't written the lyrics, but the words were very much her, "I've waited here so long. It's killing me to be all alone. I better take down my defenses or the moment will be lost." her voice trailed into the music of the synthesizers.
The chorus came again, she sang it solo, Pete closed his eyes and found himself imagining she was looking right at him. "Take a ride, you don't even have to mean it. And if you wanna stay the night, I promise I'll keep it secret. Stay awhile, baby you won't regret it. Just let it out, love is the way to say it," the last part, she held the note for several seconds, the mixers amplified it as the musicians paused playing and violet and blue lights arced through the crowd to match the song. The crowd erupted and the silence held for a long moment before the band picked up in unison, Vaughn and the singer began the chorus again in harmony. Pete sang along like he'd known it by heart his entire life.
Pete slipped back through the crowd to his table. The band continued to play on, the singer had moved enough and Pete watched with a smile as the silhouette that was her finished out the song. The lights shifted and the synths flowed into a new melody. It was no longer Vaughn on the drums. Pete remained unbothered, he sat back in the chair smiling and finished his beer. His waitress approached and Pete handed her cash out of his wallet and thanked her. Winston approached shortly after and the two men chatted back and forth.
"Intense man! Maybe she was singing about you!" Winston patted Pete on the back. All Pete could do was laugh and shake his head.
"I had no idea she could do all this, man! Girl is nothing but surprises!" Pete exclaimed. "Hey, I'm gonna bounce. Really appreciate you!" Pete put cash into Winston's hand as he shook it.
"Nah bro, we're good!"
"I insist. You're a good dude. Really glad to meet you!"
Mostly Pete wasn't sure if he should find her, he wanted to find her and tell her... he didn't know what. He didn't want to ambush her. "Hey Winston?!"
Winston lead Pete around the opposite side of the stage to a community lounge area where a few people including various musicians who'd performed were mulling and having drinks. Vaughn was speaking to some of them and she turned as the two men approached. There was an awkwardness between them as neither wanted to say something that would create friction and there didn't seem to be anything that wouldn't. It was Pete who found his footing first.
"You're amazing." he smiled sheepishly.
A chorus of awwwws came from Winston and the others.
"My work here is done." Winston smiled and bowed with pride before leaving them.
"Thank you," she stepped closer to Pete and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek and without intending to caught the corner of his lips with hers.
"Do you have more or do you wanna grab some..." Pete stuttered.
Vaughn turned to the others. "I guess I have to go," she said and gave hugs and thanks and exchanged compliments and text reminders as Pete waited almost proudly. Vaughn grabbed her things and he offered to take her backpack and she let him. She led him out the back of the club and they walked in silence down the alley to the street.
"I'm glad you came. I should have told you, I made things weird and I apologize."
"Why didn't you tell me played drums or...and sang? How does this," Pete motioned his hand back toward the club, "even happen?" he wasn't angry.
"That," she waved back at the club, "Is a long story that I thought was kinda done?"
"I don't have work tomorrow and I'm hungry, so start talking." Pete's hand brushed against hers once, then twice and paused before his fingers slid between hers. He felt her adjust her hand, her chin dropped as she bit her lip and looked away smiling. Pete's heart pounded like it was trying to break down a door.
They made their way in silence to the grill around the corner. It was busy enough with a cross section of people. Pete wasn't trying to remember everything she shared as much as he just wanted to hear about it, to know the history and hear it from her. She apologized again when she finished explaining.
"No, I get it. I'm glad to know. And that I got to see it. You know I'm not into that type of music, or I thought I wasn't, but getting to experience..." Pete struggled to find the words. "If you had told me, I probably wouldn't have gone since I'm not "into" that music. But being there even before you, everyone was into it, and it just felt open and chill even though it was loud and frantic too?"
Vaughn smiled and chuckled in agreement.
"I guess I could say the same about wrestling and training with you guys. It sounded weird until I started doing it." Pete's voice trailed as the epiphany struck. Vaughn raised her water glass and he raised his beer in kind.
"I apologize for the sneaks and making you spy on me and I'm glad you did."
"So, you gonna start singing for me now or what?'
Two days later, Frank threw his luggage into the backseat of Vaughn's truck, Pete was driving. Frank climbed in.
"Bro. What happened?" he asked.
"I happened."
Frank struggled to keep a straight face. "Tell me. Let's go."
Pete almost giddily recounted the days leading up to the reveal of Vaughn's performance, going on at length about how good it was even though he didn't want to like the music, that the music, and Vaughn, were growing on him. There was a glossing over of the handholding, Pete's tone and demeanor were souring... It had been a long time since he'd clicked with a woman so well. Beers. Food. More beers.
Frank had been mostly quiet, only interjecting small chuckles and supportive expressions. There was a pause that turned into awkward silence when Frank went in for the nudge.
Frank intentionally looked blankly at the passenger window to avoid losing control and laughing in his friend's face, "You fucked it up, didn't you?" the corner of Frank's mouth twitched as he fought back the smile.
Pete hesitated. "Holy shit so bad, brother. It was so bad." Pete seemed to shrink in the driver's seat out of embarrassment. The floodgates opened and he could not confess and articulate just how bad things had turned fast enough. "Frank, I'm telling you. I could not stop myself. And there's this part of me in my head screaming, What are you doing? Shut up! Why are you like this?! As I'm just questioning her motivations, how can I be sure I'm the first asset she's been with... I want to throw up just saying it, bro!"
Laughter exploded out of Frank and startled Pete momentarily.
"Thanks, yeah, that's really helpful. Don't hurt yourself" Pete's face was embarrassed indignation.
Frank was trying to speak while laughing, tears flowing from the amusement of his own thoughts. Finally, he got it out. "You're the psycho girlfriend."
"Shut up man, I am not..." Pete pushed Frank in the bicep, his face tightened in annoyance. "I am." he said under his breath, voice cracking. I'm the psycho girlfriend." Pete admitted and put his face in his hand momentarily. "Kill me now."
************************FILL******************************
Pete had assumed they'd be taking the SUV, it sure as hell sounded like it the engine rumble was echoing through the place, and blamed himself for the assumption when he walked into the carport and she was not there. She was instead sitting in the passenger seat of the GTR in the drive, making no effort to suppress a smile.
"You know how to drive a stick?" she asked loudly, looking up at him and already knowing the answer.
In these moments, Pete had realized his 'grumpy mule' role was his own doing and he was starting to get tired of that side of himself. Olivia wasn't trying to annoy him or cause conflict- it was him always reflexively and most times needlessly being reacting. They were (16 ) weeks in now? He was happier than he'd been in... years, he realized. Pete stopped where he was- Be here, he thought to himself. Pete could feel the smile radiating from her and settling into a smile across his face. 'Here looks pretty damn good.' He had in fact been pining to test out this not-American muscle. And she looked...adorable.
She giggled every time Pete reflexively uttered his internal reaction to the power and fun of driving the car. He wasn't trying to speed but the GT-R seemed incapable of cruising under 90. Pete stole glances at Vaughn when he checked the rear view for highway patrol. She'd assured him that they wouldn't get pulled over but old habits and all that. Her window was down, the music loud. She'd curated a music list for them both and though it wasn't the first time she'd been comfortable leaving silence between them, Pete was certain she was content, as was he. The drive was easy, the terrain changing from mountains and green valleys to
******BOND & BREAK
At an undisclosed former industrial facility outside of Pueblo, multiple QRF teams from DHS, DEA and inter agency task forces milled about the parking lot under orders from the more than irritable Homeland agent leaning against her grey loaner sedan. Most were used to the drag out of bureaucracy, it didn't make it any easier for some to sit still- or silently- as they waited for word.
"She looks like she needs a cigarette." she overheard one say.
"Or five. Fooock." another replied. Madani rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. She was itching to check her watch but refused to give any of the door kickers the satisfaction.
As it was, the last time to arrive was no later than anyone else and Dina had no reason to be holding any of the teams from settling in. This was an error on her part. 'Add it to the pile.' she thought. In the moment, she did have to concede that this was absolutely a scenario she wished she was a smoker. The roar of an engine cut through the quiet, announcing itself across the grounds. It wasn't long until the car pulled into the parking lot to a mix of suspicious and curious faces. Madani did not hide her derision but held her place.
"I don't like this." Pete said, jaw clenched and purposefully not making eye contact with the army of law enforcement standing a few yards away staring at them and the car. Pete didn't have to look at Olivia, he knew she was smiling.
That's not what it looked like to me," she replied enthusiastically.
Pete went to clarify that he wasn't talking about enjoying driving the car but choked on the words as she was purposefully already out of the car, the smug smile of satisfaction radiating from her. Now he absolutely would not never admit that he had enjoyed driving the GTR more than anything he'd ever done in his life. He swore at her under his breath and shut off the engine. In the same moment, she popped her head in the open passenger door.
"Can you open the trunk?" he could feel the smile in her eyes even with the oversized dark sunglasses.
Pete looked over the console unsure of what to press or pull. She knelt on the passenger seat and reached across him to push a button, smug joy radiating like perfume.
"You are a tier one clown." he growled.
She leaned into him and barely an inch separated her mouth from his ear.
"And you like it." she whispered, her smile never ceasing.
Pete sat stone faced. She didn't need to see the twitch of a smile to know she'd struck her target-again.
Olivia may as well have skipped to the trunk, languishing in her victory. The audience didn't know what they were watching but they were rapt all the same. Pete collected himself and exited the car to help her unload their gear only to find that she had the majority of it slung over her shoulders and in hand. Despite the truth of the matter, Olivia looked like a pack mule who'd exceeded her weight capacity. Frank didn't have the energy to look disapproving. He could feel all the yes on him, the questions. Madani's scowl he ignored. Pete looked back to Vaughn and lifted his hands in exasperation, slightly turning toward the agents, imploring and confused, leaning into a useless man shtick. Many chuckled.
-BILLY CONTINUES TO IMPROVE & MEETS HIS NEW DOCTOR
-POWER STRUGGLE DEEPENS IN NEW YORK
- OLIVIA & FRANK BOND, FRANK FINALLY BREAKS
-MADANI CONTINUES TO SHOW POOR JUDGEMEENT & PUTS FRANK & THE PLAN IN JEAOPARDY
-
Shock and the silence of surprise was more satisfying to Pete than he'd anticipated. When all she could do was smile that smile of hers, the thrill of that success pounded in his chest. It felt good to be on offense for a minute, he smirked. It was electronic dance music, club shit, he always called it- her kind of music. Even Frank was dancing, there weren't many in the place that weren't. But his small victory showed Pete what it looked like when the walls dropped in earnest. Vaughn danced freely, absorbed in the music and her partner. Maybe it was the drinks and the company of friends, but it wasn't just her walls dropping. Pete's were vanishing in the moment, and he felt unburdened. Free. Free to smile and laugh and be. The bass of the music thumped in his chest, the assault of remixed hip hop on his ears... "Wait...Do I know this?" he tried to ask but the music and the bar full of people rapping right along and the lyrics were starting to come back to him... He knew this song. And now she was smiling back at him as the lyrics flowed from him. Yes. He knew the song.
One song ran into another and slowly people went in search of seats, drinks and poorly lit corners of the bar. The DJ said something inaudible over the track but in a moment, they put the pieces together as it shifted into a slow song. Olivia had assumed that would be the end of their dancing, but Pete took her by the hip and pulled her to him. They were overheated and sweaty but unphased. Pete pulled her closer still, lowering his chin and pressing his forehead to hers. Their eyes closed and they swayed gently, catching their breath. Pete's grip slid from her hips to her lower back. Olivia slipped her fingers into the belt loops of Pete's jeans that sat at each side of his hips. The walls could stay down a little longer, Pete decided. It was the first time in a long while that he felt completely himself with someone who seemed to know what that really meant; the very person who was convincing him he was allowed to have it.
Using the belt loops, she pulled him closer to him and Pete laughed. It was a very her thing to do- something small but purposeful and clear. Pete pulled her closer still and lowered his head until his mouth was close to her ear. "Much is owed." he said quietly but she heard and pulled back just enough to look him in the eye.
"Yes." she smiled softly.
"That right there-that smile might just make it all worth it." Pete smirked. "It's like sunshine."
Olivia leaned in and kissed him without hesitation. This was a first in public and this was different than the others. Pete felt the tension he'd been ignoring truly leave him. Olivia broke the kiss softly and only slightly pulled away to look at him again.
"You are worth any cost." Olivia said. They'd stopped dancing as she waited for him to take in what she had said, the fear trapped her breath in her chest.
They might as well have been alone. Pete couldn't bring himself to fight it. He was tired of fighting her and fighting himself and so instead took her face in his hands and tried to kiss her with the feelings he didn't have words for.
The music faded out and dove directly back into the club shit, but tonight was a night for change and new beginnings. Pete led his girl back to the table where their friends Frank and Jen waited. Whatever insanity life had waiting for him was going to have to wait until tomorrow. Pete held Olivia's hand a little tighter. Drinks continued to flow along with the discussion and laughter over nothing and everything. It was the most fun he could remember having in a long long time.
*************************FILL******************
WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS
Frank got out of the car confused why he'd even come back. There was nothing in the house that he couldn't replace. He was willing that to be the truth yet unwilling to confront it. Frank let the anger shroud him. He was having second thoughts but the car had left. It couldn't hurt to take the cash and grab clothes. I don't need her, I'm wasting time, he thought trying to find any stable foundation to stand on. Of all the battles Frank had ever fought in the world, this was different. Had she left the island? Would the Rein's forgive him? He shook it off. None of it would matter soon enough. Get your shit and go, Marine. Frank's conscience quieted and he headed toward the house. Their house. Frank shoved the thought aside and went in.
Even in the darkness it was as inviting and familiar as it had ever been. Her keys were hanging on the wall. She had not only left Turks and Caicos but beat him home. Frank used that thread to stay on guard. It was a thin thread to hold the weight of his choices. The lights were off, her luggage by the couch. Part of him anticipated her rounding the corner from the stairs but she didn't. The money Frank had paid him was in the safe in the office across from the bedroom. The thread weakened and Frank Castle could only hold it tighter, determined to stand by this choice.
He made his way up the stairs, the bedroom door open and she was in bed and her back to the door. Frank didn't try to stay quiet, confident Olivia was not asleep. His heart pounded expecting confrontation. He deserved it, he was certain. Without turning on the lights Frank went to the safe in the office and started entering the combination.
"Here." Olivia said startling Frank. He turned to face her as she turned on the light, his gym bag on the carpet in front of her. Her eyes and nose were red from crying, her mouth closed tight. She was fighting tears.
Frank could tell there was more than just money in the bag. Once again, she'd been prepared.
"Just that easy?" Frank swiped and readied for the fight.
The laugh escaped her and for the split second it allowed tears to fall. "I've chased you all that I'm going to." Olivia raised her hands briefly in surrender.
Where was the fight? Olivia turned and walked out of the room to go downstairs. Frank stood frozen. There was always a fight, so this had to be the game. He huffed out of the room leaving the bag on the floor and followed her into the kitchen. He stopped at the counter as she rinsed her face and patted it with a kitchen towel. She looked at him with an expression he'd never seen from her. Her eyes were distant and indifferent. She looked through and beyond him, his throat tightened.
"I'm leaving." Frank stated but lacking conviction. "You've got nothing to say for once?" he goaded.
"This was always going to happen. You're done, so go." her voice cracked.
"Oh. So now I'm not worth the fight?" It was a pathetic statement, Frank regretted it immediately, but it gave him the strength he hadn't been able to muster.
Olivia laughed. More fuel for Frank. "It's just an op right? Got a little too close to the asset..." he pushed. A bemused expression was the only reaction she showed.
"You're so toxic. You can't make the choice to leave and follow through until you cut me first? Well. That's certainly mature." Olivia shook her head disappointed. "I'm going to go upstairs and cry in our bed. You do what you need to do." she waived her hand dismissively, disgusted. Olivia grabbed a bottle of water and walked past him. Frank could barely make out her footsteps as she went up. "I love you." her voice drifted down. It was her turn to do the cutting.
Minutes passed and Frank hadn't moved. He was frustrated with himself for not having brought the bag down. Every so often he could hear her and she was absolutely racked with emotion. Frank could feel it- this was not for his benefit and it wasn't to hurt him. She was letting it out- the pain he'd caused, the pain he was causing. The pain he was certain he brought to everyone. He turned to go upstairs to get the bag- she'd put it on the landing. Unable to help himself, he went up to get the last word. From the top step he could see her. Olivia was on her knees sobbing, her arms holding her up.
In that moment, Frank Castle's heart broke. His dark eyes welled with tears and he rushed to fall to his knees beside her and wrapped his arms around her. He could barely get the words out as he apologized over and over. At first she leaned into him. He inflicted the damage, it was his to repair and make whole. She kissed him fiercely, the salt of her tears pressed into his lips. She pulled away smiling, the light and love she had shining through the hurt. The light faded with the smile as she took in his face, holding it in her hands and running her thumbs over his forehead and cheekbones and lips.
"Get. Out." She whispered.
***Frank's openness
*************************FILL*****************
Bodies: gang wars have exploded between Russians/Chechens & the various gangs that had already been trying to fill the power vacuum in New York. Frank has been trying to track Billy as Billy uses the gang wars to take territory for himself and make allies to insulate himself from Frank. Olivia agrees to help Arkadi & Oleg clean up an inhouse problem contributing to the greater chaos to buy herself more time. With assistance from new and old friends, a trap is set to lure in many, including Frank, it is successful. Madani again undermines the friends by releasing Frank from the temporary cage they'd built for him.
*Too late for love- Billy is on top of the New York world as Frank reaches his breaking point and heads back to New York. Madani reluctantly aids in slowing Frank's return as it helps her scheme to aim Frank at Russo. Vaughn reaches out to the Russians to set contingencies in motion.
*************************FILL******************
ALL FALLS DOWN
-Agent Madani's apartment
"You didn't need to know about my contracts." Olivia held her ground as Madani paced erratically behind the chaos she'd created.
"Bull shit!" Frank closed the distance and Karen did her best to step between Olivia and Frank.
"Says the child killer," Dina scoffed.
"Says the child killer," Dina scoffed.
Despite Karen standing between them, Frank put his face in Olivia's trying to force her to look him in the eyes. She stared past him intentionally.
"Look. At. Me." Frank growled.
"Frank," Karen tried to separate them further. He waved her off and stepped to Olivia again. Olivia went slack in her stance and exhaled out of frustration, then met Frank's gaze.
"You killed a kid." it wasn't a question.
"Yes." Olivia replied unashamed.
"Tell me." Frank demanded, his jaw flexing and rage in his eyes.
Olivia let the smile spread on her face and exasperated laughter followed. Whatever distance was left between them Frank closed the gap and pressed his forehead to hers. Olivia's bemused expression melted to a darkness Karen hadn't thought possible except maybe from Frank. The dark gave way to a loneliness Karen recognized within herself. Frank was too far gone to notice or care. The Punisher wanted answers. And excuse.
"Yeah I killed a kid. There you go. Take your out. Go to war." Olivia said calmly.
Madani let out a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes.
Frank stood seething, his face turning to a shade of crimson, eyes narrowed and filled with rage. Her flippancy was kindling.
Frank could barely speak. "Get out of New York."
Karen tried again to intervene. This had gone too far. Olivia stepped back from Frank and turned to Karen.
"It's okay." Olivia tried to smile.
Frank cut between them but wouldn't look Olivia in the eye now.
"Don't talk to her don't look at her! Take your shit and GET OUT!" Frank roared. Dina and Karen both startled and caught their breath. Olivia barely flinched and looked at the floor to keep from smirking in Frank's face.
"I see you again and I'll put a bullet in you." Frank threatened.
Karen stepped forward encouraging Olivia to go but knowing in her gut this wasn't right and that Frank wasn't thinking straight. "I think you better go." Karen said and shot both Madani and Frank a look of disgust. Olivia let Karen usher her to the door.
"You still have the .40cal I gave you?" Olivia asked Karen softly. Karen touched her purse on the entry table behind her. "You and the Devil- stay together. It's going to-"
"GET OUT!" Frank roared. Karen and Madani jumped again and Olivia opened the door to go and pointedly looked at Karen.
"Don't trust anyone but Lieberman and Curtis. I'll be bye later." Olivia left the apartment. When the door closed behind her, Olivia took her phone out and sent a text to a saved but nameless contact. '911.'
She followed the hall to the elevator and her phone rang.
"He's got the gear you left me so I need more. I need extra eyes on Russo and his assets, whatever it costs. Vanislov is working with the Chechens AND Mikail. They're coming to clear the whole board, so watch your back. He's got guys in your crew, Arkadi's and Olegs for sure." the elevator closed and Olivia hung up the phone.
Back in Dina's apartment, it was Frank's turn to pace while Dina stood smugly watching. Karen was exasperated.
"Well she's something else. Where did Lieberman find her?" Dina scoffed and poured herself a scotch.
Frank spun and pointed at Dina. "Do not." he warned.
"If you like her so much you can probably catch her but we don't have time for this, Frank." Dina rolled her eyes.
Karen snapped. "She is here to help you!" Karen closed the distance pointing at Frank and then at Dina, "While you have only gone out of your way to put us all in danger!"
"Stay out of this, Karen." Frank grumbled.
"How can I when the two of you seem hell bent on getting all of us killed!" Karen started to laugh and understood Olivia's frustration now. Everything they'd worked to achieve was undone in twenty-four hours and needlessly. "Both of you are unbelievable! You need her! We need her help!"
"We don't need shit from her, Karen. You don't underst-" Frank tried to take her hand to calm her and himself and Karen cut him off.
"Stop telling me what I don't understand like I haven't been through this same crap I can't even count how many times now!" Karen took her hand away from him and went to collect her things. "Every wannabe mobster and hit team is here to kill you... kill all of us! I don't care if Olivia is Satan if she keeps us all alive!"
Both Madani and Frank scoffed and chuckled.
"I don't need protection," Frank growled.
"And if this is where you tell me that I do? This is out of control and it's your fault. Someone is going to get hurt and you're responsible." Karen said without looking at either of them and thus accusing them both. Disgusted, she headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Frank demanded.
"Home, Frank. As far from your toxic bullshit as I can get. You deserve each other." Karen stormed out leaving Frank and Dina alone with their anger.
Matt was walking into the building as Karen was exiting the elevator. He took her arm thinking they were going back up. She kissed him hastily.
"No we need to go. I'll tell you on the way." Karen looked around nervously as she led Matt toward the door to the parking garage.
He stopped, wanting answers. "Karen, what is going on?"
"Matt we really need to go. I'll tell you on the way home. Or...wherever you think is safest."
Matt could hear Karen's heart racing and his only concern now was keeping her safe. She explained all she knew had happened with Madani going to get Frank out of Chicago and Madani pitting Frank against Olivia.
"Madani was just...ugly. She is absolutely not okay. And you know Frank. He was so angry..." Karen's voice trailed off and she shuddered as she drove Matt back toward Hell's Kitchen.
"Did she say she did it?" Matt was asking about the accusation.
"Yes, but,"
"Yes she killed a kid?" Matt interrupted, horrified.
"See? There it is! The judgement! I was trying to tell you,"
Matt interrupted again, "That seems important, Karen."
"Just listen to me. Jesus." Karen was running out of patience for everyone and their hypocrisy.
Matt apologized and took her right hand and kissed it, "When we met her, did you think even for a second that she was off somehow?"
"No but that doesn't mean-"
"Please let me get this out." Karen pleaded and pulled her hand away only to take his back and apologize. "I think she didn't defend herself or explain because Frank didn't want to hear it and she knew it. I think Madani brought it up to get Olivia out of the way. Madani's never been on board with any of this and why? Every day, Matt. She's been warned and written up by Homeland and she kept going back taunting Russo. She is not OK and I think she wants to use Frank to kill Russo and doesn't care who gets hurt."
"So she riles up Frank to pour gas on the fire." Matt said in understanding.
"We knew Frank coming back to New York would be ugly. The plan worked. Olivia had him contained. I think he may have actually been...happy?" Karen was thinking out loud now. Matt chuckled and Karen cracked a brief smile.
They drove in silence for some time before Karen spoke up again.
"I don't think Madani told Frank details about Olivia's last job because all she needed was enough truth. I mean if someone wants to see the worst in you, the easiest way is a sliver of truth without context. Frank wants to hate her so that he can pretend not to care. I think there's more to what she did? But I don't think any of it matters." Karen ran her hand through her hair.
Matt waited for her to go on. He'd interrupted her enough for the moment, he thought. "Whatever she'd done before, I mean none of us are perfect," Karen hesitated then went on, "But we asked her for help and she gave it. She didn't choose an easy path, and you know Frank- you know how harsh and..."
"Unyielding? Stubborn? Unreasonable? Short-sighted? Short-fused..." Matt offered with a grin.
"Exactly. Eight months. Eight months Matt. It worked. I would have said one month being generous before she quit or killed him and who could blame her? But he obviously went along with it eventually and we wouldn't have believed..."
"You're right," Matt conceded. "You said before that you started laughing at Frank before you left?"
"I kind of understood why she hadn't reacted, I think? Frank and Madani were just...feeding off each other. All of it was pure toxicity. This side of Frank," Karen didn't finish the sentence but Matt knew exactly and too well what Karen was referring to.
*******INEFFECTIVE COMMS******
Curtis handed Olivia a beer and sat down in the chair to her right. He seldom sat in that particular chair, it was over filled and awkward to get up from.
"Thank you," Olivia said quietly. She drank down half the bottle while Curtis attempted to situate himself better. He finally settled himself as she finished the beer, holding the bottle and looking at it as though it might break. He watched her intently, waiting. Her questions began and Curtis did not hesitate to answer. She asked direct important questions about Billy, about the looming threat he was perceived to present and to whom. Curtis waited for the questions about Frank he was sure she wanted to ask, but never did.
"If you've got other things on your mind, I've got you." Curtis had become an effective listener over the last few years leading the veterans group. Olivia had no one and if Frank had been her only source of company the last eight months, she was probably in need.
Olivia smiled and sat back in the chair, taking in the room but mostly taking a breath. "Thank you," she smiled and looked back to Curtis. The people she had met and known in her life that were reassuring was a very brief list. He was on it. Curtis could not help but smile back, she did have an amazing smile, he thought. He'd also seen that smile less encumbered when they'd first met. He felt a momentary sadness followed by hope that after all of this, she'd be able to smile freely again.
"Talking...," Olivia cleared her throat "about certain complications doesn't always make things better? Only because they're not important by comparison."
"I get it." Curtis nodded.
They sat in comfortable silence while Olivia debated how accurate Curtis' guesses about those complications would be. It was Curtis who broke it.
"He can be complicated- Frank." Curtis acknowledged.
For a moment, the unencumbered smile appeared, it shone in her eyes before the light dimmed to make way for something else. "I wouldn't undo that I am in-love with him, even if I could. There's no war in me over whether it's a mistake. Accepting that he's in-love with someone else is as easy as accepting how I feel. I accept it all."
The honesty had Curtis sitting up straight in his chair. He was taken aback by the self-awareness, a trait he didn't come across in many until it was hindsight if ever.
"He's always going to love Maria and the kids." Curtis said. Olivia half-smiled and used the back of her hand to wipe at her eye.
"Of course. But It's not Maria he's in-love with. He'll never forgive himself for their murders. She didn't leave Frank, she died. That changes what he feels." her voice trailed off and Curtis sat thinking over it.
"You're right. What he was doing before- when he became The Punisher- that was for them as much as it was for him but it wasn't out of love."
"His heart is Karen's." Olivia said simply.
"Page? She's with that lawyer Matt." Curtis said.
"That doesn't change how Frank feels any more than it changes how I feel about him."
"But you and Frank...?"
"You know better than anyone. What he's fighting for... it's the 'whys' that change. Yes, we had something, and he was happy I don't doubt it because he's a shit liar," Olivia smiled the most painful smile, Curtis felt punched in his own chest seeing it. "But he's afraid it's real and that I will be a lie he chose to believe. It's better though, better like this. Not the part where he's going after Billy on his own, we expected that." Olivia smiled. Curtis watched the pain disappear as she pushed it aside.
Curtis didn't argue the point. He'd known Frank cared about Karen but he wasn't sure how deep the feelings ran and he was still unsure now.
"This is cleaner."
"Not for you." Curtis said softly.
"Not so far as him running around blowing up New York to kill Billy, no." she laughed lightly. "There are two things I want to tell you. The first is how we- it's how I know he's in-love with Karen."
"And the second?"
"Why it's better that he is."
Olivia shared with Curtis how the Rein's had taken them on vacation, how much fun they were having, that Frank had been the most open and free she'd ever seen. "...And then the waitress." Olivia shrugged. "You could see it on his face- he looked disgusted. It was like someone having an affair who realizes they love their spouse."
"Oh my God." Curtis stood up and sat down beside her on the couch.
Olivia looked at Curtis directly. He went to reassure her and she interrupted. "So, yeah. It's better like this."
***********DINNER WITH FRIENDS*************
11 months earlier...
There was nothing unique about a growing group of friends meeting at a restaurant in Manhattan. The kind of restaurant that friends old and new would meet at for dinner and drinks, to catch up, talk, laugh, share, and add to the memories of all the dinners and drinks that had come before. This was a first for this particular group of friends and as per the instructions, they were doing their best to behave as though this were one of many. Some within the group had met previously, not under the best of safest of circumstances but the kind that cam and had bound them.
There were hugs, kisses, handshakes and warm greetings among a packed house. Foggy had come with Matt and Karen. Marci thankfully had to work, but she'd recognized the "I can't tell you and I am truly sorry for it" look on his face when he'd told her he was going to dinner with Matt and Karen to meet "some people." Curtis had come alone hoping the lack of invitation to join wouldn't be too much of a red flag for his new relationship. That in itself was a red flag but somehow, this was going to work out, Curtis lied to himself as he shook Foggy's hand and took the seat next to him at the table set for seven. David and Sarah arrived next. They were later than David had wanted. He had been the one to set all of this in motion when Russo's condition began to change, Agent Madani's concerning regular visits to see and threaten the psychopath Billy Russo was not reassuring.
They'd all been through so much; Frank having been at the center of some of the worst of it, sometimes the cause always the hero. Sarah had David by the hand and pulled him from the bundle of stress he was weaving. His wife was stunning, her blonde hair flowing behind her and catching him in the face- the past few years had guaranteed he would never lose sight or take his family for granted. Sarah in her black dress and heels was so excited to be out with her husband who still maintained the appearance of a frazzled junior high school science teacher, even under the circumstances, maybe even because of them. Life hadn't become a utopia for the Lieberman's, quite the opposite. But Sarah Lieberman had spent a year wishing for the impossible and because of Frank Castle, she had her husband back and if she could help protect Frank even from himself, she would, however she could.
The first round of drinks hadn't arrived and Sarah had found a new friend in Karen. Their easy banter gave permission for everyone at the table to look and play their parts in the charade. The drinks helped keep the mood easy and natural while they waited for the final two "friends" to arrive. David wasn't holding out hope for Madani showing up but her participation wasn't necessary. It would be helpful and she was just as much a part of the growing threat as she was threatened by it, but it was the other attendee that mattered, the key player in his plans for Frank Castle's future.
David had spent the better part of four months trying to reach her so that this night could happen. He was certain that she was the person who not only could do the job, but one of the few who would do it and could be trusted to see it through; So that as a group, the people who were Frank Castle's friends could help protect him and themselves from the monster that was beginning to wake and the collateral damage that came with Frank's wars.
The party were laughing along at a story Sarah was telling about her son when mid-sentence something caught her attention. Sarah's face shifted from lovingly amused to open-mouthed awe.
"Oooh," it slipped out as though she'd been given an unexpected gift. Everyone looked to where she was looking and echoed her sentiments, though none of them could expressly state precisely why.
A woman in her early to mid-thirties was speaking to the hostess at the front desk. Long dark brown hair with a combination of highlights and lowlights flowed far passed her elbow, topaz eyes and tanned olive complexion, the woman smiled at a joke the hostess made.
"Wooow." Curtis said aloud, not intending to.
"Right?" Sarah gestured at Karen for approval.
"You're not wrong," Karen laughed in a fluttering tone that peaked Matt's senses.
The woman wasn't dressed in an attention-grabbing manner; a crisp white V-neck t-shirt with a black lace camisole peeking out slightly from beneath, loosely tucked into a heavy-belt buckled pair of denim leggings, an oversized black and grey speckled trench and thick treaded platform open-toed ankle boots. Her make up was natural, she wasn't wearing jewelry. She didn't look any different than any average woman, but somehow, she undeniably was. Sarah and the table weren't the only ones to notice her, but it was Manhattan and people weren't unaccustomed to seeing an attractive woman and they went back to their conversations and meals.
Sarah leaned over to David, "Please tell me that's her because I am about to go invite her anyway."
David barely got the words out and Sarah was out of her chair, pulling Karen out of hers to then rush to the front desk and hug the woman neither of them knew. The stranger did not hesitate to return the embrace and allowed herself to be led to the waiting group. She went around greeting and hugging everyone before accepting Sarah's direction to take the seat David had been sitting in so that the woman could sit by her.
"What has gotten into you?" David exhaled and surprised by his wife's behavior and tried counting the empty wine glasses and stuttering a confirmation.
"I am so glad it's you! It is you, right? Please tell me it is?!" Sarah exclaimed, pointedly ignoring her husband.
"Yes? I don't think I've been happier to be me." the woman laughed.
Whatever plan David had had to introduce the woman to everyone went out the window. Sarah began peppering her with questions and it wasn't long before everyone was. But it was Foggy's first question that put the brakes on the party.
"What's your name?"
Sarah buried her face in the woman's shoulder in embarrassment.
"It's okay." the woman patted her new old friend on the head, her smile radiating through her eyes. Matt's head coked ever so slightly, noting the collective tension fall.
"Olivia Vaughn. It's a pleasure to meet all of you." Olivia was careful not to say it too loudly. "I am happy to meet all of you finally and I am sorry it took a minute." she looked to David who nodded in understanding. From there, the interview continued on through more drinks and eventually dinner.
"You wrestled?!" Sarah asked, mouth full of food.
"I did, I still do when I can. I have a handful of clients that I help train now and then."
"Clients?" Karen asked, her elbow on the table with her chin resting in her hand.
"Like wrestle wrestle? Off the top rope wrestle?" Matt asked. Everyone laughed.
"Nothing that spectacular. Freestyle like in the Olympics and."
"You're an Olympian. Of course you are." Foggy said.
Olivia nodded.
"You medaled?" Curtis asked. Olivia nodded again and Sarah gasped.
"Holy shit." Foggy chuckled.
It was an odd moment of silence as everyone but Olivia and David processed what they'd learned about her and coming full circle with why they were having this dinner. After a long awkward moment, it was Sarah that got to the heart of it.
"We need your help. Our friend Pete needs help? and we need it for him and probably for us." she looked around the table. "Maybe?" she felt strange for insinuating a helplessness about the others, Matt was blind after all and she'd rather apologize for being honest than regret keeping quiet. They all needed to work together and trust each other.
Olivia picked up her pint of Guinness and began to take heavy drinks, smiling for anyone who might be looking. "How much have all of you spoken about this?"
The tension was unmistakable. "Maybe this wasn't the best idea." David said quietly.
"It's the best place and the right way to do this, if everyone could please take a deep breath and relax. We're friends here, meeting over food and drinks, talking about other people and friends who are having a rough go. So it's important to keep being those people because that's who we are, lest we invite attention. More drinks? Deep breaths? Smiles?" Olivia was exceedingly good at putting everyone at ease, even Matt who was seldom at ease. He gently squeezed Karen's hand under the table and turned to whisper assurances- "She's real."
"Genius," Sarah beamed at her newest new favorite person Olivia.
"Agent Madani at least for the time being is out I guess, but like I told you, she may be as much a part of the problem as she is a help. Russo- Bill, is waking up and she's been in his ear since she got out of the hospital. It just feels like tempting fate." David shook his head and tried his best to fake a smile and it was not successful. Karen covered her laugh.
"Don't... babe, don't do that." Sarah chided her husband quietly.
Curtis cut in. "The patients vitals have shifted and the coma he wasn't supposed to come out of? He's coming out of it. Not leaps and bounds every day but he's definitely improving. Whatever Madani is whispering, it can't be good. Worst case, she's one bomb lighting the fuse of another."
"And our friend?" Olivia asked, referring to Frank.
"He's settled. Mostly. In Colorado Springs, just outside." David said.
"Pete. Settled." Sarah stated and burst into laughter. It wasn't a moment later when it struck Karen and Matt and spread around the table, that Frank Castle the Punisher was settled.
"I needed that." Sarah gently wiped the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes with a napkin and finished her wine.
A chorus of nodding agreement- they all needed that laugh.
"Sooo, who's got some ideas?" Foggy asked and motioned for the server to bring another round of drinks.
The round table of options was slow at first before branching out into the impossible and coming back again to the reasonable. Regardless, the complications all stemmed from one source- Frank. Stubborn, unreasonable, unyielding... Every option seemed destined for failure because Frank was Frank. Karen had been quiet for some time, listening, wondering, waiting. She and Curtis new Frank the best, understood who he was as a man even if they did not understand or like what he became.
"Why you?" Karen asked, looking first to Olivia then David and back again. "You were the first and only call David made?" it wasn't an insult or an insinuation and Karen made no attempt to qualify it. "You'r resume is not dissimilar to Fra-Pete's- but why do this? You don't know him. Is someone paying you? No one has mentioned that. And I mean no disrespect, but people in your line of work don't work pro bono."
Matt squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. All eyes were on Olivia.
Sarah went to defend Olivia but David quieted her. This conversation needed to be had.
"Because of this. Because of you." Olivia replied easily. "Yes. David can tell you everything I can do and I can tell you that I have been paid a lot to do terrible things to terrible, but that work means that I can do work by choice. And quite frankly, it would all be easier for...everyone? really, if you just asked me to deal with...the threat." Olivia took a drink while everyone became restless in their seats. Olivia smiled and went on, "But David, Curtis and I discussed it and I understand and respect that that is not on the table, though down the road, if there's no other option..." her voice trailed off. It was Matt the lawyer Olivia noted that was the only one actually uncomfortable with the last bit.
Matt tapped Foggy on the leg. Sincere.
"From what you've shared, you have all been through the ringer with...Pete," Olivia looked at Karen, Matt and Foggy, "but here you are trying to help him. If everything that's been reported about Pete were the only truth, I wouldn't be sitting at a table surrounded by people who have absolutely nothing to gain by asking for my skill set; By people who have everything to lose but are willing to try to protect him and yourselves. And like you said, our resumes are similar, and I have no doubt that he could probably handle this himself and I don't doubt that you believe it too. What I think is that you're hoping for it to look different, to be different in the way it happens, as much as we can possibly contain it...him...them, for as long as possible."
"And you think you can protect him?" Curtis asked.
"Oh I absolutely can." Olivia said with an easy certainty. Matt had to laugh. Not because she was lying but because he knew she believed it.
"From what you've told me, Pete is as much a danger to himself as the patient. And I don't mean that in a judgmental way."
"No, you're right. Fra-Pete is going to be the biggest problem in every scenario." Curtis admitted. There was agreement in the silence that followed.
"All the plans for him though are secondary to the plans and contingencies that need to be made for all of you, even Agent Madani, regardless of her participation such as it is, but David assures me he's confident she will come through if push comes to shove. So first, we all agree any and every plan is going to go to shit and we prepare to react to failure."
"That's not dire," Foggy finished his beer.
"No, she's right. You're right. Keeping everyone safe is the priority and it will be Fr-Pete's." Matt said and leaned on the table.
"Do you know the patient?" Foggy asked.
"We crossed paths? He offered me work and I declined. From what David and Curtis have told me, best and worst case, his focus is going to be on Pete. You will be the pawns and collateral damage and the longer we can look that way to Bill, the better."
"That doesn't sound totally safe..." Foggy said.
"Olivia's right- the patient will be laser focused on Pete. We would all be bait and nothing more."
"Which means we can, carefully, make moves of our own." Matt said and waved for another round of drinks.
"Which is why the first plans have to be in prep for things going south." Olivia looked to see Karen and Foggy seemingly effort at not looking at Matt.
"We're... covered." Matt said. And still the avoidance of eye contact. Olivia sat and waited, clearly expecting a better explanation.
"We...have...protection of our own." Foggy reiterated, clearly uncomfortable.
"Soooo if Pete were here now, I assume he'd know what that meant but would he accept that?" Olivia asked. "I'm not trying to pry."
"No, you're right, he would know why and No, he wouldn't accept it because he's Pete."
Olivia sat up and stared into her empty pint glass, thinking.
"I don't want to press but I have to. I have to know so that I can prepare and so that as problems arise, if we are not in communication, we know what to do and how to react. I'm need the three of you to figure out a way to be more forthcoming. Please." Olivia smiled.
"God that smile." Sarah put her hand on Olivia's cheek, the wine had her relaxed now.
Both Foggy and Karen sat uncomfortably, still taking great care not to look at the blind lawyer who seemed as much at ease in this conversation as Olivia.
"We have...access... Fr-Pete knows. We have "other" friends who can help us. The special kind?" Foggy said, giving Olivia a knowing look.
"Oh. Oooh. Well, that's great. And are these other friends available to surveil all of you 24 hours a day until this is resolved? Because that's what this is going to take."
"I think we'll be okay? We can keep in communication," Matt assured Olivia.
"We really can't." Olivia said. "We have to assume that the patient will still have assets and connections so direct contact is going to have to be limited and change often, which is why we need to plan and proceed."
They had another round of drinks and came up with a framework for reacting to things going badly, assigning tasks and contingencies. In the midst of planning for potential issues, they devised the plan for Olivia to go to Colorado Springs to begin the recon of Frank. The others would meet and decide the whos and hows of letting Frank in on the plan and trying to convince him.
"There has to be a way out... we can all figure that part out together. After all of this, there has to be..." Curtis insisted.
"Anything other than keeping up my end of the deal is how everyone gets put into a new a war with people who feed off violence. Frank's fight with Russo will be ugly and messy, but the circle will stay small and contained by comparison. Verenich is not just one man- he's part of a power structure that knows I made this deal- an entity that will exact a horrible price on me, on Verenich or anyone who interferes. The only reason he agreed to the deal was because I have to go above and beyond to stay alive to finish it. They will kill Russo if it means I turn myself over and they will destroy New York to do it because that would benefit them on top of it."
"That's insane. There just has to be..."
"Curtis," Olivia put her hand on his and looked at him directly. "Hear me. And know that I am telling you this to know why it is better that his heart is hers and not mine. The goal of all of this is to keep Frank and you, David Sarah Madani Foggy Matt Karen and anyone else in the cross-fire alive. If you tell me right now, I will go to New York and I will end Russo and then we deal with the ramifications of that. But as a collective, not one person sat at that table and said, 'Go kill him.' And while everyone knows it's going to come down to death, everyone wants it to be Russo dead and everyone has been resigned to the fact that it would be Frank who kills him. I am the anomaly and that wasn't an accident."
"What are you saying? David..."
"David has always known. It was always the plan."
"That's some bullshit. How could he not say..."
"Say what? I'm going out on my terms. How many people get to a say? If...when we pull this off, how could it not be worth it? I need you to understand. I'm begging you actually."
**************************Flashback/Much is Owed
"And you think this will work?" Gedeon intentionally had his back to Olivia as she watched him prowl his office overlooking Manhattan.
"Of course it will. Until it doesn't. It will go spectacularly horrible at the most critical time." Olivia's gaze blurred as her mind automatically began going through the possible and improbable scenarios. The Russian said nothing and waited for her to answer his question.
"Best case is to get Russo to us. Most likely Russo goes after everyone to get Frank here and they'll go to war. I need to know if there's any properties the Feds didn't find tied to him- or his mother." Olivia's voice trailed off as she returned to the most likely outcome and trying to recall what she knew of Russo from her brief interactions and the dossier David and Karen had turned over when Madani refused.
"Why you don't just kill Russo. You could have it done by the end of the day. Or I make the call and avoid all of this." Gedeon motioned with his hand and turned to watch her now.
"That isn't the job." Olivia's focus returned to the office. "Anything that happens to Russo will fall on the Homeland agent and get on everyone else. She's going to be the reason this all goes very wrong. I fucking know it. I'm not trying to blow her life up. Everyone loses with that," Olivia let the air rush out of her and took in a new controlled breath.
The two finally looked one another in the eye.
"This agent, can she be removed from the board?" Gedeon became aware of the extreme contrast of her style standing amidst the traditional Russian pomp, the golds of the fixtures and lush ornate red sofas. She'd always hated it. It felt garish and absurd.
It was Gedeon's turn to let his mind wander but it wasn't on the task at hand. Another life, two different people, young and doomed, both willing to face the challenges of time and distance until the very end. There had never been a doubt of destruction, it was assured. They'd made a game of building dreams and lives they would never get to have together, sharing them during the brief days, weeks and months tied to wrestling tournaments around the world over the course of 10 years until their futures came to collect them. Their paths were not dissimilar. He'd gone through additional and extended training and a furtherance of education. Gedeon was groomed by the most powerful oligarchs and Russian Intelligence leadership to be as adaptable as possible in business and enforcement. Twelve years later, he was where he'd always hoped to be.
Before he'd known Olivia, the oligarchy was a means to an end from being poor. Gedeon accepted that it would cost his soul and humanity but there was no family to object or demand their share. Because of her, he'd maintained a shred of himself that he'd kept hidden away. Time and circumstances brought their paths together however briefly and infrequently, sometimes as adversaries, others as allies. As foes, Gedeon was grateful for the hierarchy of families and officials he worked under for understanding the long-term usefulness of their connection. When asked if he would kill her if ordered, Gedeon did not hesitate to answer in the affirmative. God willing, he would never be asked or ordered. God willing. He exhaled lightly. The power dynamic in his world had been changing quickly and not for the better the last few years. Short-sighted greed from was undermining the foundation.
