"Good morning, sweetheart," he greets in return as he makes an immediate line for the coffee. He pours himself a cup and then goes to retrieve the bottle of tylenol that's still out and dumps four pills into his hand. He washes them down with a sip and tilts his head to the sound of the reporter on the television.

He faintly smiles at Frank's assessment because he's right, of course. It sounds bad to say that the Punisher is not only out in the world but that he's winning against the task force. Naming him would only spark a response that the mayor's office doesn't want. He doesn't linger on the fact that of the over twenty cops, Frank killed eleven of them. Maybe if he hadn't been there, it would have been all of them but he's started to learn that the time and place for discussions of morality is 'not here' and 'never' with Frank.

"Sad you didn't get any credit for your fine work?" he asks before taking another sip.