Now
He had been wounded before, more times than he could remember. He had scars from battles that would horrify any medical doctor to look at. He had given blood and more for his War, and would give even more until he had no more to give.
That said… he was hurt. Badly.
His dark red hand was clutching his abdomen. In the back of his mind, he knew it was all that was holding himself together. If his hand moved he would die. Blood was in his eyes, but he dared not wipe it away. His other hand had his K-Bar at the ready. One hand to keep himself alive, the other to kill his enemy.
Ten feet away, Bushman laughed. In the evening gloom, the stark white skull tattoo on his face seemed to glow. Blood and sweat glistened off his dark skin…but the blood was not his.
“Your reputation is one of fear…fear of ‘the Punisher’,” said Bushman as he walked in an arc around his opponent. He held his machete loosely in his hand, almost casual. “I have a reputation as well, Mr. Castle.”
He brought his blade hand up and down, leaning in with amazing speed to slash the Punisher.
Blood flowed.
“I am the man who killed the Punisher.”
He had been wounded before, more times than he could remember. He had scars from battles that would horrify any medical doctor to look at. He had given blood and more for his War, and would give even more until he had no more to give.
That said… he was hurt. Badly.
His dark red hand was clutching his abdomen. In the back of his mind, he knew it was all that was holding himself together. If his hand moved he would die. Blood was in his eyes, but he dared not wipe it away. His other hand had his K-Bar at the ready. One hand to keep himself alive, the other to kill his enemy.
Ten feet away, Bushman laughed. In the evening gloom, the stark white skull tattoo on his face seemed to glow. Blood and sweat glistened off his dark skin…but the blood was not his.
“Your reputation is one of fear…fear of ‘the Punisher’,” said Bushman as he walked in an arc around his opponent. He held his machete loosely in his hand, almost casual. “I have a reputation as well, Mr. Castle.”
He brought his blade hand up and down, leaning in with amazing speed to slash the Punisher.
Blood flowed.
“I am the man who killed the Punisher.”
“Agent of Fury: Part Two”
Sixteen Hours Ago
Patience. The greatest weapon in a soldier’s arsenal.
Frank Castle watched the Imperial Palace through his rifle scope, covering the perimeter for the twentieth time. Guard rotations. Security sweeps. They hadn’t changed since the first count. Still, he needed to be sure. Watch it again, look for aberrations, deviations. Be prepared. Be patient.
The sun had only been risen for an hour. His clothing was now sand colored, shifting to blend in with his surroundings. The scope of his sniper rifle relayed information ranging from ambient temperature to wind speed. Even this early in the morning in Mojimbe City, the guard was as alert.
“Perimeter is tight,” whispered Castle.
“Mojimbe isn’t dictator because he is lax in security,” said S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Maria Hill. She was Castle’s liaison with Nick Fury while the Punisher acted as the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director’s personal operative.
“Thanks for the helpful tip,” said Castle. “A well-placed missile would take this idiot out.”
“We need to replace Mojimbe, not kill him,” said Hill. “Don’t deviate from the mission, Frank.”
“I won’t,” said Castle. A small drone the size of a golf ball flittered back to him, having completed a multi-spectrum scan of the palace and its grounds. The scan was uploaded to the heads-up display in the contact lenses Castle wore. “In fact, I just saw my way in.”
“Good luck,” said Hill.
Castle didn’t bother to respond. He collapsed his rifle and slid off the roof. His window was open, but he only had minutes to use it.
The portion of the outer wall that Castle had found to be weakest in security was now between security shifts. By his reckoning, he still had two minutes to get in unseen. Any normal person would be observed by the milling people that were abundant in this city, but Castle was ready. His clothes were adaptable to his surroundings to enable him excellent camouflage, but not good enough to make him invisible.
Solution: become invisible.
He rotated the collar of his watch. Seconds later, he disappeared from view. He was bending the ambient light around his body to appear immaterial. His special contact lenses allowed him to see in a simple radar-like way, utilizing the scans his drone had just completed. This was enough for him to crudely navigate into the side gate and into the palace grounds.
Inside, he crouched around a corner and hid in shadow as the light-benders faded off. The battery charge they needed was immense and thus could only be used for a short period of time. He likely would not be able to use the device again this mission.
Castle pressed a spot on his clothing and it shifted and rippled into a new uniform. The mimetic cloth had two settings: the one he had worn in and throughout the mission to date, and another to replicate the look of an Imperial Guardsman. The dictator Mojimbe employed mercenaries from around the world. An armed Caucasian Imperial Guardsman would not be out of place here. He would pass a cursory muster if required. Anything more and he would need to think fast.
He made his way across a courtyard and towards the palace proper. As he approached he came across two guards dressed similar to himself. The insignia were different than his own but according to Maria’s intelligence they were of lesser rank than he. They gave salutes as they met him and continued on. Castle nodded curtly and continued. So far so good.
The drone scans laid out a crude grid map that directed Castle where to go. He needed to keep an eye for security checkpoints, but so far he hadn’t seen much. Mojimbe seemed very secure in his own well-being. From what Castle had seen so far, the populace of Katanga were in fear of Mojimbe. It was external interests, like Castle himself and by extension S.H.I.E.L.D., that Mojimbe needed to be wary of.
He continued making his way up to his target.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Maria Hill tried to read through the latest briefings, but her mind was wandering. Nick Fury had assigned her as Frank Castle’s handler, a task she hadn’t relished at first thought. She knew of Castle’s activities as the urban vigilante the Punisher, but after meeting him and getting a first-hand look at his perception of his mission… she didn’t think he was as crazy as he sounded.
In a way, he made sense. He could do what everyone wished they could do. Deal with crime without encumbrances, even if that entailed taking the law into his own hands. He was the best choice Fury could have made when it came to fielding someone to handle off the book missions against this ‘Cabal’.
She checked her commlink. Castle hadn’t made contact since his incursion into the castle. She was nervous for him and she didn’t know why. He was more than capable of defending himself. Best of all, according to Fury, Castle was also expendable.
She needed to keep that forefront in her mind. Fury had approached her for a reason… that reason did not change if Castle lived or died.
All that mattered was the mission against the Cabal.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Castle had reconnoitered the area and had determined the security layout. Mojimbe was more paranoid than he had first thought. While the palace grounds were easier to access, the inner sanctum was far more difficult. Besides higher security, there were special reinforced doors into the inner chambers. Castle was going to have to get creative.
He approached an outer wall that bordered the inner core and laid back against it. He grabbed a control on his belt and closed his eyes. A sound popped his ears (BAMF!) and when he opened them, he was on the other side of the wall. He was inside a storage closet of some kind, as his drone had determined earlier. He was within the inner sanctum now, though. Now to find Mojimbe and switch the man out for Fury’s double.
Castle moved to open the door and step into the hallway. As he grabbed the door knob…all he felt was pain.
Then blackness took over.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
“Wake up, Mr. Castle.”
Castle slowly opened his eyes. Pain ruled his body. He recognized the after effects of electrical shock. He was cold… and there were bright lights shining down on him.
He slowly realized he was wearing an undershirt and pants. Everything else he had was stripped off of him. He was bound by the hands behind a chair, his legs strapped down. Something was tightened around his neck, immobilizing his head.
Standing six feet away was a man with skin black as night but with a bone-white skull tattooed on his face. He was immense and muscled.
“My name is Bushman,” the large man said. “You are known to me. Very well known, in fact. A bit overblown, though.”
“Really?” said Castle. He tried to move. He was tied down well.
“I thought you’d be taller,” said Bushman.
“Let me out of this chair and you’ll get to find out how bad I can be,” said Castle.
“That would be amusing,” said Bushman. “You have a sense of humor.”
“Mr. Bushman!” A voice came from the doorway to the room. In walked a man wearing military fatigues, a beret, sunglasses and a pelt that looked like a small lion.
“Mr. President,” said Bushman, “This is the intruder we apprehended.”
“The Punisher, eh? You are known to me,” said Mojimbe, “Very well known, in fact. I—“
“Do you guys rehearse this shit?” asked Castle. His face stung as Bushman slapped Castle.
“You will speak to the President with respect,” said Bushman.
“Mr. Bushman is a valued employee,” said Mojimbe. “I pay him well, he performs his duties, which are to ensure men like you do not get to men like me.” He smiled at Castle. “Men like you have tried before. None have succeeded.”
“I’m not dead, yet,” said Castle.
“No,” said Mojimbe, “And there is a reason for this. You are an American vigilante who preys on drug dealers, mobsters and pimps. You are very far from home and I would like to know why you are here in Mojimbe City.”
“Change of pace,” said Castle. “I felt like spreading my wings.”
“Like Icarus of legend, you have flown too close to the sun,” said Mojimbe. “I think you were sent here on a lie, Mr. Castle. How did we know you were here?”
“I missed something,” said Castle.
“No, you missed nothing,” said Mojimbe, “You caught everything you were meant to.”
“What the hell does that mean?” asked Castle.
“We knew you were here,” said Mojimbe. “I have friends. Friends tell each other secrets, as the best of friends are wont to do. My good friends told me you were going to be here.” He sneered close to Castle’s face. “You have been betrayed, my friend.”
Castle clenched his teeth. “So, where does that leave us?”
“I like you, Mr. Castle. Your skills are wasted in the world of New York and the United States. I will give you a chance to prove yourself.” Mojimbe motioned to Bushman. “You will face my champion. If you win, you work for me. If you lose…well, I think you know the rest.” He slapped his hand on Castle’s shoulder. “Tonight, we learn if you are a Punisher… or the Punishee.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Castle paced his cell for the hundredth time. It was completely bare, no bed or fixtures to make into a weapon. The walls emitted a low illumination, but were smooth to the touch. They had done a thorough job stripping him down.
They had known he was coming. If that was true, only Fury and Hill had known he was here. Fury had gone to a lot of trouble to recruit Castle…why would he throw him away like that? It didn’t add up.
Hill was still new to him, but Fury seemed to trust her and her alone. Her betraying Fury made no sense either. Was there more to his working as a secret operative for Fury? Did Fury have others in the background involved that Castle was unaware of?
Of course, the logical answer was that Mojimbe was lying. Despite the technology and stealth Castle had used, he had been caught by superior technology and tactics. He knew Bushman had run-ins with Moon Knight in the past. All reports had shown Bushman was dead, yet that was obviously not the case.
Whether he had been betrayed or not, it changed nothing about his current situation. He was not a fool. He knew that whether he beat Bushman or not, Mojimbe would not let him leave here alive. The fight was for entertainment. It gave him more time to plan.
What that plan was going to be, he wasn’t sure.
Yet.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
The fighting arena was a pit surrounded on all sides with circular seating. A plush seat was arranged for Mojimbe with the best view of the pit. Dozens of men were seated, drinking alcohol. This was meant to be entertainment for the Imperial Guard tonight.
Castle was shoved into the arena with long handled restraints. They released as he was completely in the pit. He noted there was a clear Plexiglas dome over the pit. No escaping to kill Mojimbe here.
The opposite end of the pit opened and Bushman walked inside. He held a machete in one hand and a K-Bar knife in the other. As the door closed behind Bushman, he tossed the K-Bar onto the sandy floor in front of Castle.
“Try and last a little while, American,” said Bushman. “There is money riding on how long you may last.”
Castle reached down and picked up the K-Bar.
“Begin!” yelled Mojimbe.
Bushman wasted no time. He ran and leaped up with a killing strike. Castle leaped away. Based on that start, Castle guessed Bushman had money down on Castle dying sooner than later.
The sound of the men above was a din. Castle ignored it. He focused on Bushman, who had already spun around and was readying for his next move. He wasted no time, continuing to push the offensive.
The machete slashed down and up, over and over. Castle parried with his K-Bar despite its reduced reach compared to the machete. Bushman was an expert with the machete, wounding and cutting Castle with every third or fourth slice. Castle had yet to land more than a glancing cut. Bushman’s white skull tattoo glowed in the light.
“Mr. Castle,” yelled out Mojimbe. “Will you persevere? Will you become King of the Hill? Ha!”
Castle was caught off guard by the comment. In that split second, Bushman sliced across Castle’s abdomen. Castle cried out as his hand went to cover his wound. Immediately he knew it was fatal. It had opened his abdominal cavity. His hand was desperately trying to hold himself together. Blood flowed.
“Your reputation is one of fear…fear of ‘the Punisher’,” said Bushman as he walked in an arc around his opponent. He held his machete loosely in his hand, almost casual. “I have a reputation as well, Mr. Castle.”
He brought his blade hand up and down, leaning in with amazing speed to slash the Punisher.
Blood flowed.
“I am the man who killed the Punisher.”
Bushman whipped around and brought his blade across Castle’s free hand. The K-Bar went flying aside. Castle could hardly breathe. His life could be measured in moments now. He had lost too much blood…and Mojimbe’s turn of phrase…why did it--
Castle was choking. His throat had been sliced open…he hadn’t seen Bushman move… he couldn’t breathe…
The light faded as his vision tunneled…
…Maria…I’m coming…
Then…nothing.
Next Issue: ‘Agent of Fury – Part Three’… wait, how can there be a Part Three?
Patience. The greatest weapon in a soldier’s arsenal.
Frank Castle watched the Imperial Palace through his rifle scope, covering the perimeter for the twentieth time. Guard rotations. Security sweeps. They hadn’t changed since the first count. Still, he needed to be sure. Watch it again, look for aberrations, deviations. Be prepared. Be patient.
The sun had only been risen for an hour. His clothing was now sand colored, shifting to blend in with his surroundings. The scope of his sniper rifle relayed information ranging from ambient temperature to wind speed. Even this early in the morning in Mojimbe City, the guard was as alert.
“Perimeter is tight,” whispered Castle.
“Mojimbe isn’t dictator because he is lax in security,” said S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Maria Hill. She was Castle’s liaison with Nick Fury while the Punisher acted as the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director’s personal operative.
“Thanks for the helpful tip,” said Castle. “A well-placed missile would take this idiot out.”
“We need to replace Mojimbe, not kill him,” said Hill. “Don’t deviate from the mission, Frank.”
“I won’t,” said Castle. A small drone the size of a golf ball flittered back to him, having completed a multi-spectrum scan of the palace and its grounds. The scan was uploaded to the heads-up display in the contact lenses Castle wore. “In fact, I just saw my way in.”
“Good luck,” said Hill.
Castle didn’t bother to respond. He collapsed his rifle and slid off the roof. His window was open, but he only had minutes to use it.
The portion of the outer wall that Castle had found to be weakest in security was now between security shifts. By his reckoning, he still had two minutes to get in unseen. Any normal person would be observed by the milling people that were abundant in this city, but Castle was ready. His clothes were adaptable to his surroundings to enable him excellent camouflage, but not good enough to make him invisible.
Solution: become invisible.
He rotated the collar of his watch. Seconds later, he disappeared from view. He was bending the ambient light around his body to appear immaterial. His special contact lenses allowed him to see in a simple radar-like way, utilizing the scans his drone had just completed. This was enough for him to crudely navigate into the side gate and into the palace grounds.
Inside, he crouched around a corner and hid in shadow as the light-benders faded off. The battery charge they needed was immense and thus could only be used for a short period of time. He likely would not be able to use the device again this mission.
Castle pressed a spot on his clothing and it shifted and rippled into a new uniform. The mimetic cloth had two settings: the one he had worn in and throughout the mission to date, and another to replicate the look of an Imperial Guardsman. The dictator Mojimbe employed mercenaries from around the world. An armed Caucasian Imperial Guardsman would not be out of place here. He would pass a cursory muster if required. Anything more and he would need to think fast.
He made his way across a courtyard and towards the palace proper. As he approached he came across two guards dressed similar to himself. The insignia were different than his own but according to Maria’s intelligence they were of lesser rank than he. They gave salutes as they met him and continued on. Castle nodded curtly and continued. So far so good.
The drone scans laid out a crude grid map that directed Castle where to go. He needed to keep an eye for security checkpoints, but so far he hadn’t seen much. Mojimbe seemed very secure in his own well-being. From what Castle had seen so far, the populace of Katanga were in fear of Mojimbe. It was external interests, like Castle himself and by extension S.H.I.E.L.D., that Mojimbe needed to be wary of.
He continued making his way up to his target.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Maria Hill tried to read through the latest briefings, but her mind was wandering. Nick Fury had assigned her as Frank Castle’s handler, a task she hadn’t relished at first thought. She knew of Castle’s activities as the urban vigilante the Punisher, but after meeting him and getting a first-hand look at his perception of his mission… she didn’t think he was as crazy as he sounded.
In a way, he made sense. He could do what everyone wished they could do. Deal with crime without encumbrances, even if that entailed taking the law into his own hands. He was the best choice Fury could have made when it came to fielding someone to handle off the book missions against this ‘Cabal’.
She checked her commlink. Castle hadn’t made contact since his incursion into the castle. She was nervous for him and she didn’t know why. He was more than capable of defending himself. Best of all, according to Fury, Castle was also expendable.
She needed to keep that forefront in her mind. Fury had approached her for a reason… that reason did not change if Castle lived or died.
All that mattered was the mission against the Cabal.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Castle had reconnoitered the area and had determined the security layout. Mojimbe was more paranoid than he had first thought. While the palace grounds were easier to access, the inner sanctum was far more difficult. Besides higher security, there were special reinforced doors into the inner chambers. Castle was going to have to get creative.
He approached an outer wall that bordered the inner core and laid back against it. He grabbed a control on his belt and closed his eyes. A sound popped his ears (BAMF!) and when he opened them, he was on the other side of the wall. He was inside a storage closet of some kind, as his drone had determined earlier. He was within the inner sanctum now, though. Now to find Mojimbe and switch the man out for Fury’s double.
Castle moved to open the door and step into the hallway. As he grabbed the door knob…all he felt was pain.
Then blackness took over.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
“Wake up, Mr. Castle.”
Castle slowly opened his eyes. Pain ruled his body. He recognized the after effects of electrical shock. He was cold… and there were bright lights shining down on him.
He slowly realized he was wearing an undershirt and pants. Everything else he had was stripped off of him. He was bound by the hands behind a chair, his legs strapped down. Something was tightened around his neck, immobilizing his head.
Standing six feet away was a man with skin black as night but with a bone-white skull tattooed on his face. He was immense and muscled.
“My name is Bushman,” the large man said. “You are known to me. Very well known, in fact. A bit overblown, though.”
“Really?” said Castle. He tried to move. He was tied down well.
“I thought you’d be taller,” said Bushman.
“Let me out of this chair and you’ll get to find out how bad I can be,” said Castle.
“That would be amusing,” said Bushman. “You have a sense of humor.”
“Mr. Bushman!” A voice came from the doorway to the room. In walked a man wearing military fatigues, a beret, sunglasses and a pelt that looked like a small lion.
“Mr. President,” said Bushman, “This is the intruder we apprehended.”
“The Punisher, eh? You are known to me,” said Mojimbe, “Very well known, in fact. I—“
“Do you guys rehearse this shit?” asked Castle. His face stung as Bushman slapped Castle.
“You will speak to the President with respect,” said Bushman.
“Mr. Bushman is a valued employee,” said Mojimbe. “I pay him well, he performs his duties, which are to ensure men like you do not get to men like me.” He smiled at Castle. “Men like you have tried before. None have succeeded.”
“I’m not dead, yet,” said Castle.
“No,” said Mojimbe, “And there is a reason for this. You are an American vigilante who preys on drug dealers, mobsters and pimps. You are very far from home and I would like to know why you are here in Mojimbe City.”
“Change of pace,” said Castle. “I felt like spreading my wings.”
“Like Icarus of legend, you have flown too close to the sun,” said Mojimbe. “I think you were sent here on a lie, Mr. Castle. How did we know you were here?”
“I missed something,” said Castle.
“No, you missed nothing,” said Mojimbe, “You caught everything you were meant to.”
“What the hell does that mean?” asked Castle.
“We knew you were here,” said Mojimbe. “I have friends. Friends tell each other secrets, as the best of friends are wont to do. My good friends told me you were going to be here.” He sneered close to Castle’s face. “You have been betrayed, my friend.”
Castle clenched his teeth. “So, where does that leave us?”
“I like you, Mr. Castle. Your skills are wasted in the world of New York and the United States. I will give you a chance to prove yourself.” Mojimbe motioned to Bushman. “You will face my champion. If you win, you work for me. If you lose…well, I think you know the rest.” He slapped his hand on Castle’s shoulder. “Tonight, we learn if you are a Punisher… or the Punishee.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Castle paced his cell for the hundredth time. It was completely bare, no bed or fixtures to make into a weapon. The walls emitted a low illumination, but were smooth to the touch. They had done a thorough job stripping him down.
They had known he was coming. If that was true, only Fury and Hill had known he was here. Fury had gone to a lot of trouble to recruit Castle…why would he throw him away like that? It didn’t add up.
Hill was still new to him, but Fury seemed to trust her and her alone. Her betraying Fury made no sense either. Was there more to his working as a secret operative for Fury? Did Fury have others in the background involved that Castle was unaware of?
Of course, the logical answer was that Mojimbe was lying. Despite the technology and stealth Castle had used, he had been caught by superior technology and tactics. He knew Bushman had run-ins with Moon Knight in the past. All reports had shown Bushman was dead, yet that was obviously not the case.
Whether he had been betrayed or not, it changed nothing about his current situation. He was not a fool. He knew that whether he beat Bushman or not, Mojimbe would not let him leave here alive. The fight was for entertainment. It gave him more time to plan.
What that plan was going to be, he wasn’t sure.
Yet.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
The fighting arena was a pit surrounded on all sides with circular seating. A plush seat was arranged for Mojimbe with the best view of the pit. Dozens of men were seated, drinking alcohol. This was meant to be entertainment for the Imperial Guard tonight.
Castle was shoved into the arena with long handled restraints. They released as he was completely in the pit. He noted there was a clear Plexiglas dome over the pit. No escaping to kill Mojimbe here.
The opposite end of the pit opened and Bushman walked inside. He held a machete in one hand and a K-Bar knife in the other. As the door closed behind Bushman, he tossed the K-Bar onto the sandy floor in front of Castle.
“Try and last a little while, American,” said Bushman. “There is money riding on how long you may last.”
Castle reached down and picked up the K-Bar.
“Begin!” yelled Mojimbe.
Bushman wasted no time. He ran and leaped up with a killing strike. Castle leaped away. Based on that start, Castle guessed Bushman had money down on Castle dying sooner than later.
The sound of the men above was a din. Castle ignored it. He focused on Bushman, who had already spun around and was readying for his next move. He wasted no time, continuing to push the offensive.
The machete slashed down and up, over and over. Castle parried with his K-Bar despite its reduced reach compared to the machete. Bushman was an expert with the machete, wounding and cutting Castle with every third or fourth slice. Castle had yet to land more than a glancing cut. Bushman’s white skull tattoo glowed in the light.
“Mr. Castle,” yelled out Mojimbe. “Will you persevere? Will you become King of the Hill? Ha!”
Castle was caught off guard by the comment. In that split second, Bushman sliced across Castle’s abdomen. Castle cried out as his hand went to cover his wound. Immediately he knew it was fatal. It had opened his abdominal cavity. His hand was desperately trying to hold himself together. Blood flowed.
“Your reputation is one of fear…fear of ‘the Punisher’,” said Bushman as he walked in an arc around his opponent. He held his machete loosely in his hand, almost casual. “I have a reputation as well, Mr. Castle.”
He brought his blade hand up and down, leaning in with amazing speed to slash the Punisher.
Blood flowed.
“I am the man who killed the Punisher.”
Bushman whipped around and brought his blade across Castle’s free hand. The K-Bar went flying aside. Castle could hardly breathe. His life could be measured in moments now. He had lost too much blood…and Mojimbe’s turn of phrase…why did it--
Castle was choking. His throat had been sliced open…he hadn’t seen Bushman move… he couldn’t breathe…
The light faded as his vision tunneled…
…Maria…I’m coming…
Then…nothing.
Next Issue: ‘Agent of Fury – Part Three’… wait, how can there be a Part Three?