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The winding path that brought Frank Castle to the restaurant in Chinatown was far to long to go into depth of description. Rather the shortest explanation was the one that would suffice. It was an opium house. Production was done at a warehouse that he was attempting to locate, distribution from a collection of these types of locations throughout the city.
Where most places that deal in drugs usually dredge up the mental imagery of run down hole in the walls where the cockroaches outnumber the patrons at a ratio of ten to one, this was actually an upscale location. Frequented during the lunch hours by local business men and the elite of Chinatown along with others who wanted to enjoy a delicious Chinese meal in the fabulous Lady Mao's.
One of the patron's that day was Frank Castle. He sat with a cup of coffee at his table and an untouched plate of food while facing the kitchen where the action seems to be going on at a fast and furious pace. The clanking of plates and dishes echo whenever the door opens and servers bring the food out into the dining area.
*
Another happens to be having her lunch in this restaurant, some who are keen on fashion would no doubt recognize Janet Van Dyne, who has been something of a rising star in the fashion world. Those who are less keen on fashion, but still love gossip, would no doubt know of her from the pages of tabloids, where her scandalous exploits are details, along with admonishments from reports for mishandling the fortune left to her by her father.
Either way, she's sitting by her lonesome, enjoying a meal and something that looks like a green cocktail of sorts. While she was no veteran, her time with the Avengers did get Janet more alert then she used to be, and she can't help but casts some glances towards Frank Castle's table, he sees quite suspicious the way he doesn't seem to care about ordering a meal, doesn't touch the coffee before him, and constantly seems to survey the kitchen despite it. She pays attention for now.
*
Lady Mao may not be a popular figure in the East, but her namesake restaurant does a fantastic steam bun. The glutinous delight with its fragrant, flavorful contents, be that red bean or sweet pork or coconut cream, goes nearly unparalleled. For a girl who has feasted on some fairly exotic food for a week and some, food that hasn't ever touched a mortal palate in living memory, this constitutes a terrestrial diversion. Thus it is the redheaded bohemian breezes in to ensconce herself at a small lacquered table rather than a booth, and her order most undoubtedly includes a healthy number of steamed buns, wrapped in bamboo and lotus leaves, to be delivered on a weird oval steamer contraption that might have been a wheel during the Chinese Civil War. No matter; she doesn't even bother to look towards the menu before making her request, helpfully holding up a book in one hand. A lunch to read; how charming!
Nonetheless, the young woman no sooner approaches the table than stops in her tracks at a familiar face, a known sight. Ms. Van Dyne; she, on the other hand, is a resident creature of the burgeoning counterculture movement, and in that orange dress, it shows. So with a word to the server, she approaches with a somewhat sunny smile upon her face. "Miss? Would you be offended if we shared a table? It's so crowded in here," she says, her voice holding a tone of English inflected by somewhere, the south, possibly southeast England. "Having a four top to myself feels rather untoward. I understand if you would rather have your privacy."
Scarlett isn't altogether unaware of Frank's eagle-eyed approach, but nor does she draw attention to it.
*
Bright colors… so damn distracting. The movement of people do on occasion pull up Frank's attention as he notices it but soon his attention is back to the kitchen. Then slowly he takes a sip of his coffee and leans back in his seat. The kitchen door opens and out comes a server with a rather large tray that suddenly catch their feet upon the floor, stumbling and then cascading downwards with a loud clanking noise as food, dishes, tea and numerous other items go flying into the air and towards a nearby large party.
Suits are covered in food, dresses saturated in sauces and the screams begin. Yelling in Chinese, yelling in English… and Frank Castle no longer at his table as he uses the distraction to slip into the kitchen.
*
"Oh, not at all, please have a seat," Janet says as she looks up at Scarlett. "I have some of their guan yin tea, try some, it's divine," Janet offers before urging the waitress to get another cup for Scarlett. "Where did you get that dress?" Janet asks as she looks over Scarlett, "did you make it yourself?"
But then there's a bit of commotion, and suddenly Frank Castle isn't at his table, and Janet looks apologetically at Scarlett, "excuse me, I need to go freshen up for a moment," Janet offers, as she gets up from her seat and starts towards the ladies' room. Only she passes by the kitchen to cast a quick glance, just in case Castle might have gone there. If she's sharp eyed, Scarlett might note Janet delaying for a glance at the kitchen along the way to the ladies' room.
*
In retrospect, it may be possible to narrow down the moment when Scarlett turns. Someone steps out of the kitchen. A family in the corner shouts cheerfully about business ventures in Mandarin, and the patriarch beams at his sons. When another server graciously waits behind the redhead in anticipation of claiming that free table for a party of three waiting in the foyer. She might be too alert due to Janet's celebrity, awkwardness at asking to join a stranger, or the foreign languages engulfing them. The truth of the matter is she snatches up a menu and uses it to reflect a soaring bowl of wonton soup, sparing her dress the splash. At the same time she drops back a step, avoiding noodles or rice in her hair. The floor might be a tad messy, but the teapot at least is not.
"By all means, Miss. I'll fetch some napkins and try to wipe down the seat." Scarlett frowns at the state of the menu, but better it being soaked than her. The commotion is enough to pull her in with its black hole vortex, and subtlety is a lost cause when in mandarin orange. She stands out, especially here, the foxfire braids too plainly unusual. Moving forward into the throng, she repeats, "May I have a cloth, please? Towel?" to the commotion, taking the more direct route. Someone is sure to provide, though it means running and out of the kitchen.
But then that does give a better view. "I am so sorry," she murmurs, worried and her brows pinched. "Are you all right? Let me help carry some of these bowls." Offers made to one of the servers are full of an air of kindness, even if they turn her down.
*
Passing by the Kitchen gives a view into it for Janet where everything seems ok. At least at a cursory glance. The kitchen staff is scrambling now to get clean up taken care of and to get the food prepared once again. Everything is fine until looking past, deeper into the back of the kitchen where someone who definitely does not look like the others is present. Frank is back there and he seems to be leaning over a sink, talking into it. The view is blocked at that moment by a table.
Then, a head comes up, drenched in water out of the sink and Frank can be seen talking to the person before again the head disappears, presumably into the sink.
The servers that Rogue offers to help look confused then wave her off trying to remain polite amongst the chaos. A careful eye perhaps from either Janet or Scarlett would notice that there is actually a trip wire stretched out across the door, laying on the ground. Thin and silver that threads it's way towards the table where Castle had previous been sitting.
*
A few months ago, Janet might have missed just what Castle was doing, but now that she's had some experience being a hero, an experience with the Avengers, with military personnel, with spy agents, now she was alert enough to take note. As soon as the head pops out of the water for some air, Janet rushes the rest of the way to the ladies' room, as if she couldn't hold it anymore. But what she's really after is cover, hanging her clothes on a hook at a door to a stall, she is left in her Winsome Wasp costume which accurately changes size with her.
A moment later, and the tiny insect sized Wasp zooms in flight towards the kitchen, the loud commotion makes the buzzing of her wings all but inaudible, "you put him right down!" A voice seems to come at Frank out of nowhere, unless he'll be sharp enough to spot the tiny flying woman, who seems to take a threatening tone with him, "you can't attack innocent people like that, if you don't let him go I'll hurt you!"
*
The murmurs of a good Samaritan follow a predictable course: "Are you sure I cannot be of help? It's no trouble. A towel, then, please?" Standing in the aisle near the kitchen, the young woman remains to the side rather than in the direct path, but making herself useful matches up with a direct view of what happens. "The soup spilled all over the table, and the chairs. We couldn't possibly sit there without wiping it down."
As a stall tactic goes, etiquette works especially well. Scarlett lends a gentle smile, and then runs her fingers over her braids, knocking them off her shoulder. "Water? To see if—" and when the perplexed look follows from someone unable to keep up in the chaos and the sound, she points to the kitchen and makes a motion of washing her hands. It really doesn't matter if the poor waiter is shaking his head, she pushes through with a light, spry step that sends her deeper into the formidable behind-the-scenes of Lady Mao's. Right there to see Frank Castle squaring off with a ghost.
*
Getting into the kitchen provides a much better view of the action. Frank is conducting an interview with one of the kitchen staff. Granted, the interview seems to be rather one sided as the water from the sink is used to flood the man's mouth before being released and other questions asked. As Janet arrives, she could hear the words from Frank being growled out to the man, "The address and we'll talk about ending it."
Then the voice in his head is heard, female and coming from somewhere. Quick eyes dance around, glance about for the source but he doesn't see it. He's had a few run ins of late with difficult to explain situations so he simply responds. "If you think this piece of garbage is innocent then you must be one of those idiotic heroes running around the city."
*
"I am the Winsome Wasp," the Wasp introduces herself, "and I am with the Avengers! I saw you torture this poor man, he's working a kitchen in a Chinese restaurant, this is wrong, put a stop to it right now. I won't warn you again," if he pays closer attention in the kitchen, he might find it easier to locate her by following the buzzing sound of her wings as she keeps moving over his head, ready to zap him with her sting if he doesn't let the man go. To her it seems like Punisher is committing assault on a poor hapless man.
*
Maybe Scarlett is at pains to hear Wasp, but she has no such troubles dealing with a man drowning someone in a sink as an interrogation technique. "Poisoned your dim sum, did he?" That's how conversation begins, on the faintly amused note of a golden soprano voice. Ostensibly searching for a towel, she plucks one off the counter where someone discarded it in the rush. She picks it up and rubs her fingers over the absorbent material, even if she lacks burns or pink hues to her skin.
The arch of her brazen eyebrows asks more of a question than the mild interruption does, though her palm comes to rest against the table. Pots and pans stacked up high enough to upset any restaurant inspector give some shielding to someone who may be the least offensive, least frightening person in the room. A girl in a minidress and boots hardly constitutes a danger. The 'invisible' voice, much more so. Her eyes widen at the mention of the Avengers. Somewhere, at least, there is an Avenger, and that constitutes news.
She absolutely does not wriggle, but she does stand on her toes. "You seem to be drowning a fellow in a sink. Is there a reason you are roughing him up?"
*
"He's crazy!" Shouts the worker in rather well spoken English; something that is not normal in such a kitchen most times. When he speaks, Castle slams the man's head into the counter to get him to calm down and end his struggling.
"I don't give a shit if you're with the Avengers, the Plumbers, or some other collection of lazy assholes." The growl is directed towards the air, his eyes starting to locate down to where the buzzing voice is coming from, then another voice joins the mix. "What part of a private kitchen do you not understand?" This time the words are directed towards Rogue. He moves some, dragging the kitchen worker with him as he does so towards the nearest stove which has a few woks on it sizzling away. "You don't want to know what's going on. Go back to your meals and your oblivious nature. Leave the real work to the big boys."
*
"I don't know if anyone told you this before," Wasp answers the derisive points made of the Avengers, "but you're rude!" Sure they were a rather new initiative of a Superhero Team, but they did make some headlines here and there. Wasp certainly didn't feel anyone could call them lazy plumbers, and definitely not assholes. They were heroes. Frank didn't have a right to diss them like that. Especially not while torturing a poor kitchen worker in a Chinese restaurant. One that Janet happened to like.
"Okay Mister, time's up!" Wasp announces and out of the blue, she fires twin rays of Wasp Sting from her hands at Frank Castle. He may be enough of a badass to handle the pain, unlike most, but Wasp's sting really have quite the sting to them, a direct pain impulse where they strike, working on a bio-electric level. "Ready to let him go now?" She asks.
*
"God Damnit." Frank grouses as he gets zapped by Wasp. It certainly does hurt, badly at that. He almost reaches up to grab his shoulder where it hit but doesn't. "You want to make this a thing? Then it's a thing."
Gabbing ahold of the wok that is on the stove he throws the contents towards the buzzing of where Wasp is. A swing of a wok doesn't have as much surface area as a wall of sizzling hot garlic sauce. With that in the air, he grabs the hand of the Chinese Cook and slams it onto the stovetop with a nice shriek and the smell of burning meat. "Address!" Frank shouts at him.
"Warehouse on the docks. The docks man! Shit. SHIT!" He's scream, he's upset; as he should be considering that Frank has started searing his hand.
*
The zapping is something well worth watching, but more important is the man trying to throw another onto the stove top. There her patience fails, and she glides forward in a number of bounding steps. "Let him go. Unless you can conclusively prove he murdered dozens of people, this is neither the place nor the time." The way she moves is telling, precise and controlled, though it does not speak to anything unnatural. More to the point, it merely might suggest her athletic talents are a bit above the norm. Of course, where Scarlett is involved, that is a complete lie. "Leave off." Her fingers curl around her upper arms, crossed over her chest, the towel still wrapped lightly around one hand. Nothing to imply a risk. Nothing to imply danger.
She'll leave that to Wasp, even as she gets within arm's reach of the cook—presuming Frank doesn't wheel on her first. Priority is pulling the fool or criminal out of danger. That means being in Frank's range, of course, but she seems to be terribly untroubled by it. "Out. Go!" It's as much to the cook as to the other man.
*
One thing the Wasp didn't anticipate is Frank Castle's ability to overcome pain, so far anyone she hit with her sting at the very least wasn't able to think straight. More took too much time to handle it, some were even knocked out. But here was a man who not only kept at it, but caught her off guard by tossing simmering sauce at her, she lets out a panicked screech and does her best to fly away, evading bits of it, until some lands on her, and the heat makes her crash down on a kitchen table as she lets out a high pitched screech of pain. Punisher has enough time it seems to make his way out of there.
*
As Scarlett advances, the Punisher grabs the man who shared the information and shoves him at her as hard as he can to create a collision between the two. Chaos and distractions being his tools this time. After the shove and hearing the shriek of the wasp, he makes his way towards the back exit of the kitchen, throwing a bottle of vegetable oil onto the stove as he passes; where there's oil, there's fire. Where there's fire there's smoke and distractions.
*