Frank Castle

Amid the cheerful atmosphere, one disheveled middle-aged man remained completely out of place in the restaurant.

While Alvin held Ginny and amused her, the middle-aged man came over and leaned his elbow on the Bar Counter, turning sideways to Alvin as he watched the lively crowd with a forlorn expression.

"Give me a glass of whiskey."

Alvin knew that look well. It was the same look JJ had worn when he first arrived: not quite murderous, just numb. He looked at everyone as if they were Corpse, more like a machine than a living person. He was injured, too, and reeked of disinfectant and blood.

Alvin glanced at him. In the middle of all this merriment, he didn't spoil the mood by pointing out that only Beer was free today. He poured whiskey into a glass and pushed it across to the man. Smiling, he said, "I hope you have a pleasant evening."

The man gave a bitter smile and shook his head. "Can we talk?"

"About what?" Alvin asked curiously.

The man sighed and hesitated. "About that child." As he spoke, his gaze pointed toward the ceiling.

Alvin was confused and a little wary. His voice turned cold. "Who? Nick? Who are you?"

The man downed the whiskey in one gulp, then covered his face in pain. "Who am I? I'm a terrible husband, an irresponsible father, a fool who didn't know what mattered most in life."

Alvin studied the man thoughtfully, then called Jessica over to watch Ginny. "Ginny, go play with Jessica for a while, okay? Dad has something to take care of."

Jessica came running over, her face flushed with excitement. But when she noticed the strange atmosphere, she looked at the disheveled man and said, "It's you. You came back again."

Then she turned to Alvin. "He's been here for several days. I wanted to tell you this afternoon. It seems like he's got something on his mind."

Alvin nodded to show he understood, then handed Ginny to Jessica. "Jessica, take my princess upstairs and play with her for a while. I've got something to handle here."

He kissed Ginny's little face and watched Jessica take her upstairs.

"Let me guess. You're Nick's father, the one who only existed on the phone?" Alvin asked sharply, ignoring the man's pain.

The man didn't take offense at Alvin's tone. "Yes. I'm that irresponsible father."

He pushed his glass toward Alvin. "Please pour me another."

Alvin filled it to the brim. He watched the man drink it all in one go and said nothing. He knew the man had a lot to say. All Alvin had to do was be a good listener.

"I was the best Special Forces Commander in this country! I risked my life for this country! I even gave up my family life for it!

"I wasn't even there to see Nick when he was born!" The man pushed his glass toward Alvin again.

Alvin could hear the anger in his voice, directed partly at himself and partly at the country. He needed some liquor and someone willing to listen. Alvin pushed the whole bottle of whiskey toward him, letting him know he was listening.

The man picked up the bottle and took a hard swig. "While I was risking my life for this country, my wife and son were caught in a bombing. My wife died, and my son lost his left leg.

"Those damn politicians hid the news from me and sent me on a year-long mission. Those sons of bitches treated me like a machine. They thought our lives and families meant nothing!

"Those murderers, those sons of bitches in the Italian Mafia, were still walking free until I found them and fed them into a meat grinder."

Alvin swallowed. He knew about that. The Italian Mafia's Cesare Family in the harbor district—more than forty people, from the old to the young, had all been killed and stuffed into a meat grinder. They'd been minced into a bloody pulp, and the whole family had ended up hastily buried in just two coffins.

And now this guy was telling him, "I did it!" That was a little too intense!

Everyone knew there were no good people in the Cesare Family. But he'd even killed every last cat and dog. This guy was the Devil incarnate!

The man didn't notice Alvin's expression change. He took another long swig. "What hurts most is that my best friend tried to hide the truth from me, too, and tried to stop me from getting revenge. He only told me Nick was still alive and gave me this address."

Alvin grumbled to himself: With a temperament like yours, I wouldn't have dared tell you either! Forty-six members of the Cesare Family, along with their bodyguards, underlings, and even sixteen people who'd just been visiting, had all been slaughtered. A small-scale war wouldn't have killed this many people!

"I've been here for several days. Thank you! Thank you! Not just because you saved Nick's life, but because Nick is doing so well now. I never imagined he'd be like this." The man's eyes glistened.

"Even though he's missing a leg, he's cheerful and sunny, without a trace of self-consciousness. I don't know how you did it, but, man, thank you!"

Alvin waved him off, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and took a sip. "Have you taken care of your problems? I mean, the problems besides the Cesare Family.

"You know I consider Nick family. And you're just the father who used to exist over the phone. You only existed in Nick's imagination.

"If you still have trouble hanging over you, I think I'll have to stop you from getting close to Nick. You must have looked into me. You should know I can do that."

The man looked at Alvin. He wasn't angered by the threatening tone. Instead, he gave Alvin a solemn military salute. "I won't thank you on Nick's behalf. I can see you two are like a family. I'm thanking you for myself. You saved me from the pain of sinking into Hell. You kept the last bit of light in my life alive."

He raised the bottle and clinked it against Alvin's, then took another big swig. "There's no trouble left. Remember that old friend I mentioned? We made a deal. I won't go after those sons of bitch politicians anymore, and he'll take care of all the trouble I have now."

Alvin breathed a sigh of relief. He was conflicted, too. Even if this guy was nothing but trouble, could Alvin really stop him from seeing Nick?

He knew how badly Nick wanted his father to appear. In Nick's heart, his father was a hero.

Alvin had taken on most of the father's role, but he wasn't Nick's real father.

If this guy never showed up, maybe Nick would have forgotten about him with time. But it had only been a year.

Alvin didn't want to admit it, but this guy really was something else.

If he were in China, he'd be a model soldier, the kind of person honored as one of the country's ten exemplary workers. Alvin couldn't quite approve of abandoning one's family to serve the country. But when someone like this stood before you, you had to give him a thumbs-up and say, "Thanks for all you've done!"

Alvin raised his glass. "May I ask who your old friend is? He must have a lot of pull to manage all this. So many people dying—that's a big deal."

The man picked up the bottle and clinked it against Alvin's. "Nick Fury, the current director of S.H.I.E.L.D."

An image instantly popped into Alvin's mind: an ugly, dark-skinned One-Eyed Dragon. Alvin took a sip and asked, "Then your name is~"

The man looked at Alvin. "Frank." He reached out and shook Alvin's hand, formally introducing himself. "I'm Frank Castle."