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Jimmy was back.
Before leaving again, he arranged for Gordon Mitchell to deliver a batch of Blood Orchid extract to Stark Industries.
Tony had not explained why, but Jimmy did not need him to.
It was obvious.
Palladium poisoning.
Judging by Tony's mood lately, the extract was doing its job. It eased the symptoms, slowed the damage. But as long as the reactor core still relied on palladium, the problem was only being delayed, not solved.
Replacing the element itself remained the real solution.
Tony was likely the first person to benefit from the Blood Orchid extract. Not to extend his lifespan or push biological limits, but to stay alive.
---
Once everything was settled, Jimmy visited Damon at the warehouse.
He warned him to stay inactive for a while.
Someone was watching.
And whoever it was, they were far beyond normal law enforcement or intelligence agencies. This was a different tier entirely. One that included enhanced individuals.
Damon had been a cop long enough to read between the lines. After personally witnessing Bullseye's unnatural precision, he already had his suspicions.
Once he learned the information came from Stark himself, Damon did not hesitate.
He went dark.
That same night, he destroyed the vehicle he had been rebuilding. Sealed off the third underground level and reinforced the sewer access.
Set demolition charges that could erase all traces in seconds if needed.
When it was done, Damon became invisible.
Just another man who worked during the day, drank beer at night, and lived an unremarkable life.
---
Jimmy, meanwhile, boarded a flight to San Juan.
The moment he stepped off the transport, everything changed.
The harbor.
The ocean breeze.
Sunlight spilling across white sand.
Palm trees swaying in the distance.
It looked like something pulled straight out of a travel brochure.
Jimmy rented a house near a small private pier. It was expensive, but cost meant nothing to him anymore. At this point, money was just leverage. A tool to buy silence, comfort, and time.
He planned to stay for at least two or three months.
Rest, Reset, Clear his head.
And then enter the next instance.
Just as importantly, this location made surveillance difficult. S.H.I.E.L.D. had reach, but not unlimited reach. As long as he was not caught in the act, he could deny everything.
Blood Orchid technology and Tony's backing gave him enough insulation to push back if necessary.
He was not afraid of S.H.I.E.L.D.
He was afraid of HYDRA.
S.H.I.E.L.D. still followed rules, even if paranoia drove them. HYDRA did not need proof. Suspicion alone was enough for them to act.
Coming here was not just about rest.
It was bait.
---
Jimmy settled into a routine.
Each morning, he swam out into the open water, practicing deep dives and conditioning his body. By eight or nine, he returned, ate, and slept briefly, letting himself enjoy the slow rhythm of the days.
Afternoons were for walking the pier, feeding seabirds, or wandering the shoreline.
Some nights he sat on the beach, watching the moonlight on the water. Other nights he collected shells or trapped crabs along the tide line.
To anyone watching, he looked completely at ease.
But in reality, Jimmy was monitoring everything.
Every road leads to Aguadilla.
Every boat passing the harbor.
Every unfamiliar presence.
With his senses, hostile intent stood out immediately.
Horus perched on his shoulder during the day, half-asleep and lazy. At night, the bird vanished into the sky.
Jimmy was no longer sure whether Horus was more hawk or owl.
---
A few peaceful days passed.
Then, one afternoon, as Jimmy stood on the pier outside his rented house, soaking in the view, something changed.
In the crowd moving along the dock, he felt it.
One presence.
Different.
And not in a good way.
For an ordinary civilian, this man would be lethal.
Jimmy's instincts were screaming at him. Whoever this was, he was more dangerous than Damon had ever been.
But something felt off.
They were not a strike team.
They were a family.
From the fragments of conversation drifting across the pier, Jimmy caught enough clues, Parents, In-laws, A cousin's family, and children running around.
A large group vacation.
At least, that was what it looked like.
They rented a villa further inland, right by a private stretch of beach. Other than passing Jimmy's place once on arrival and once more during a supply run into town, they avoided his area entirely.
They even kept to a different beach.
Horus saw nothing suspicious. No reconnaissance, no signals, no weapons movement.
Jimmy scratched his head.
Maybe this time, he was wrong.
---
That illusion was shattered an hour later.
Jimmy was inside, midway through a remote call with Gordon Mitchell and Gale Steen, when the sound hit his ears.
Gunfire.
Not distant. Not muffled.
Automatic weapons.
Jimmy immediately found an excuse and cut the call.
Gunfire in a resort town was never random. And judging by the direction, it was coming from the villa where that family was staying.
So they were in trouble after all.
At least, it was not aimed at him.
Moments later, Horus swooped down from the sky and landed heavily on Jimmy's shoulder.
"I've got bad news," the bird said. "And news that's bad, but not catastrophic."
"Start with the second one."
"They're under attack. Full assault. Men, women, kids. Someone's spraying the beach with automatic fire."
Jimmy's jaw tightened.
"And the bad news?"
"Two of them are heading your way. In a vehicle."
"Who?"
"A woman. And a young boy."
Jimmy shut the door immediately.
Not my problem.
---
Gunfire erupted again.
Then a massive explosion.
Tires screeched. Metal twisted.
Jimmy parted the curtain and looked out.
A blue Jeep had flipped near the road. Smoke poured from the engine. A woman crawled out, dragging a terrified boy with her.
They staggered toward the small local police station across the street.
Jimmy grimaced.
That station would not stop men armed with submachine guns. Local cops here avoided shoplifters. They were not built for this.
He hesitated.
One second.
That was all it took.
Jimmy opened the door.
"Here, Now, This way."
The woman did not hesitate. She grabbed the boy and ran.
"Thank you. Thank you," she whispered frantically. "My name is Maria. This is my son, Will—"
"Stop," Jimmy said quietly. "No names. Stay calm, Stay silent, This is not over."
He closed the door and locked it.
Then he turned around and froze.
Because the system chimed.
---
[Mission Complete.]
[Objective: Protect the wife and child of Frank Castle.]
[Condition: Both targets must survive.]
(They are already in front of you. If you fail now, that is entirely on you.)
---
Jimmy stared.
Frank Castle.
The Punisher.
Of course, it had to be him.
If the system had told him to kill someone, that would have been easy. Clean. Simple.
But protection?
That was different.
Jimmy exhaled slowly.
He was built to survive chaos. Bullets meant nothing to him. Explosions were an inconvenience.
But them?
One bad decision. One reckless charge through gunfire.
He would heal.
They would not.
Jimmy glanced at the system panel.
"You have got to be kidding me," he muttered. "This is not my skill set."
The interface, naturally, did not respond.
Jimmy rolled his shoulders, listening as distant gunfire crept closer.
"Fine," he said quietly. "Guess I'm playing defense."
And that, somehow, felt far more dangerous than any fight he had ever taken.
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