Powder Blue Who: Punisher and OPEN (Otherwise, Narrative) Where: A used car lot. When: Sunday afternoon, September 30. What: Frank gets some wheels. Rating: PG for floaters.
He could have gone to any used car lot, but he didn't. He went to one with mob ties. He gave the manager a taste of window washer fluid. Until the man had had his fill, floating at the top of the used car lot's big show floor aquarium like a goldfish a child forgot to feed.
Such a waste. That was a nice aquarium.
There was one car on the lot that suited his purposes. A powder blue 1969 Pontiac GTO, kept conveniently off the books. For all intents, the vehicle didn't exist. Which meant the police wouldn't be looking for it, especially once he'd taken some black paint to the vehicle. It was cheap, and it worked. After Frank got done with it, it would work a lot better. If one thing his almost-disastrous confrontation with the Black Canary and the other woman had taught him, it was that he was going to need better wheels than the van he'd been using. Faster wheels. And some kind of armor, for bullets or sonic screams. Right kind of scrap metal would do the trick.
Putting the keys in the ignition, he left the lot, the engine putting as the Punisher made his way through Gotham in the Powder Blue GTO in broad daylight. Low-profile. No string of bodies, just one very buoyant message to let the mob know he hadn't given up his war on them.
No symbols needed this time. They were already whispering his name on the streets. It also meant he could expect more interference in the near future.
Plenty of blocks away, he pulled into a gas station and filled the vehicle's tank, making sure the dealer plate was still in place, and walked inside to pay, his skull shirt fully covered by his jacket. Low profile. That was the trick. Keep the breadcrumbs scattered far enough apart and let the rain and the vermin take care of the rest.