War Journal: Jackals Blood

A

Azazel

Guest
Original poster
One year after the events at the hotel.

i don't remember how we made it out but as I sit here in a safe house, I try to piece it back together. There was a trap door, swat teams flooding the building. One group had spotted us. We tried to make out way through the ruble of the cave in or whatever it was. Shots rang out. I was struck in the shoulder, me and Damien returned fire. Officers went down but alive. I git out went into hiding. The police have really turned the public on me and doubled their efforts. I normally wouldn't care about the cops, but I don't need innocents getting involved. And then there was that one shot. My fingers trace a scar on the dude of my face. This one wasn't due to getting old. Someone had tracked us. I wonder, I don't think it was Him he'd have kept pursuit. Whoever it was, was still a pro. I had to wait for him to make a mistake.

The judges murder was fake, Damien got his family back, but I had to lend them a safe house under the city. It was a rushed job mistakes were made, but at least he got his family back. Sitting in this chair I'm not sure what my next move is...

Elsewhere; a briefcase in hand, the man straightened his tue and walked down the busy street. It took me a year and careful watching, but I know where you are frank, he thought. Out me game is about to begin. We both lost family, we both crave war. Me for the thrill it's all I have left the planning the killing. It's all you have too. You use it to cover your guilt for not seeing it coming. He knelt down and adjusted his shoe. Using this action he nudged the briefcase down into a storm drain. Standing he moved on. As the briefcase floated along the current in the sewers, a faint tick could be heard inside it.

raul_menendez.jpg
. (The jackal)
 
I sorta remember more than Castle about they day. Grey was shot and killed, accidental shooting by the cops, and I have a bullet still buried in my leg. But, I can walk and run just fine, and I know because that wasn't the last time we ran from something. My girl and son both lived beneath the city now, and though she still hated me in a way, Christine was just happy I'd saved them both. Had even thanked Castle, which was rare for her. My son had turned four down here, not the best, but I got him one of those toy firetrucks.

I was actually on my way to see Castle right now, we met once or twice a week, more if there was a job, but I still didn't see him as a 'friend'. Guys like me didn't have those; guys like me tried our best to play it safe. The underground door loamed up in the dark, and I hit it twice before turning back and looking out at the sewer water. Ticking. I didn't think anything of it, at first. I mean, seriously, I'd been through hell and back. More than once. Nothing surprised me anymore.
 
The man behind the class lit a cig.

Blog note #KL-247: FEww, you should have seen Punisher run like a whipped pup. And that kid, Damien. That little shit has more magical tricks than any magician Ive ever met. And while were on the subject I cant believe that he rescued his family without killing the judge. Oh well, bloody lucky on my part. Saved me the job of taking him out.

The powers that be seem to in flux at the moment. Priest has gone way active in things, I saw him just slip that....hold the phone. Oh you little rascal. Slipping a dirty bomb into the sewers. Thatll make things nice and bloody hot.

Anyway, the constables will be a bit of a problem now since they want Punisher to be taken out.

The man clicked on his mouse and scrolled through some news clippings that he grabbed from online. Then he switched the pane over to a satellite GPS system. Frank was never dark, just hiding every now and then.

Blog note # KL-248: I wonder why big daddy told me to drop the contact with priest. Some shit mustve gone down. Lucky for me I reroute my calls through a couple thousand towns out of Bagdad and Bangladesh. I suppose I oughta follow the priest from that clue. It seems he's got an eye out for Frank just like everyone else.
 
Turning a dark alley the man walked among the homless. Small fires raged in trash cans, the grounds were littered with filth. He watched them, and they watched him. After awhile he stood on an old bench that looked like it belonged in a park.
"Hear me. You are all tired and homless. No man should live as you do, yet here you are. I can't offer you the peace you seek, no. That is for someone higher up, not God, but a man I work for. I am his tool and I am reaching out to you." He stepped down and walked amongst the crowd that had gathered. " it is simple. You shall be given purpose. I or another one of you shall contact each other with jobs to do. If you choose not to simply go about your normal routine. But if you do you will be amazed at how quick your life changes. If you don't hear from me, it is not that you are forgotten, but your time is not ready." He exited the back ally as the homless muttered to themselves.
 
Damien knocked on the door again, crossing his arms and looking at his watch. He'd ditched the cell phone, tracking and GPS on those was not out of the reach of his old boss. He cursed; Castle had said be here at six, and it was five after. He couldn't stick around in one spot long, not even down in these sewers. And that damn ticking, beeping noise...wait...

I looked in the water and, sure enough, caught on a pipe was briefcase. And that ticking sound? Yea, it was coming from that. Not good. Not good. Shit, shit, shit. "Breath, Damien, you panic and you fuck up, you know that." I muttered, moving to the briefcase. Only good to come of this was that if hadn't made it down to where my family was staying. It was heavy enough to blast a whole city block once I pulled it out of the water. How it got stuck here I'd never know.

Carefully, I looked around, mapping out these pipes in my mind. A year down here and I knew my way around pretty decently. I at least knew where Castle had most of his safe houses and knew which pipe to not throw the case down. I found one a hundred yards down and tossed it as far as I could, watching it vanish before going back to the door again. I knock again, muttering, "Castle, open up already..."
 
The man watched attentively. There was no explosion. Obviously this got screwed. He cracked his neck and stood up. Time to set up shop. He packed his auto rifle, a combat knife and some chlorinated rags. Then he turned to leave. The place was always dark and cold it kept things from getting hot. So he locked up leaving the light off.

Outside he entered a black suburban van. It had no marks or plates. Nothing to I'd it. Then he drove on out to safe house 74. The one with Damiens family. He knocked, and with little effort he put them unconscious. Then after loading them in his vehicle he procured some of Frank's left over artillery and desimated it with explosives rigged by the electric sockets. He watched the place go up for a second from in the van. Then drove off with the girl and kid.


A few hours later they would find themselves in a military interrogating room. Unharmed but alone. In the woman's pocket a cell rang. The one she had was disposable and receiving only. When she picked up He answered.
"Keep calm, and enjoy the ride." Then he hung up.

blog note: She's likely to cry and pitch a fit. Have to secure them though. Psychological test, eraser that kinda deal. In the meantime, Frank shouldve caught on by now.