The Punisher’s swaggering, larger-than-life reputation for ferocity didn’t amount to much when he was confronted by the man known as “Monster”.
Sam Abdulrahim had been standing over a younger and, he perceived, weaker inmate, but the “kid” was connected and had a massive friend on hand to back him up. Before things could get violent, a meeting was called at the prison mosque.
With many eyes watching, Abdulrahim was told to “f--- off” and Monster “bitch slapped” him.
The hardened boxer took it – observers noting and later deriding Abdulrahim for his apparent reluctance to strike back.
A source said: “The Punisher was like, ‘Come on bro, you’re serious? You’re gonna do that in front of everyone?’ Punisher didn’t do nothing. In our world, when somebody hits a man, if that man doesn’t hit back, he’s not a man.
“This is who The Punisher is. As an image, he’s a bad guy, he’s a boxer, he’s a hard c---. But he’s a goose.”
It was noted again after he was shot eight times outside his cousin’s funeral in Fawkner in June 2022, when he took no retaliation against those he knew had targeted him.
The two-man “hit team” had fled overseas to Iraq, but their compatriots who had helped set up the ambush were never touched, living openly and without fear in Melbourne for years afterwards.
Only a day after Abdulrahim was gunned down in a Preston parking lot, Melbourne’s underworld is not expecting an explosion of revenge attacks for this death.
In fact, Abdulrahim had been put under such unrelenting pressure by his enemies that by the end he had almost no allies left in that world, deserted and left exposed after months of firebombings and shootings targeting anyone he could have once leaned on.
“There’s not a sad face around,” an underworld source said.
Following Abdulrahim’s murder, four police and underworld sources spoke to The Age on the condition of anonymity to speak freely about the 32-year-old’s past and position in the crime world at the time of his execution.
It had been more than eight months before Abdulrahim had been able to strike back in any meaningful way, his last real gasp launching a series of retaliatory firebombings after masked gunmen had fired 17 bullets at him outside his home in May.
That attack had incensed Abdulrahim because it had involved his family. “He was going berserk about it,” a source said.
In the early hours of May 24, three cars outside his parents’ Brunswick home had been doused in petrol and set alight.
Expecting him to rush to his parents’ aid, two shooters were lying in wait outside Abdulrahim’s gated Thomastown home – but they missed.
Abdulrahim, who had recently formed an alliance with the Sydney-based gang Brothers 4 Life (B4L), organised the firebombing of several businesses he believed were linked to his tormentor, exiled gangland boss Kazem “Kaz” Hamad.
But the fires were barely out when Abdulrahim realised he could no longer stay in Melbourne and expect to live.
The B4L connection was disintegrating in the face of the sheer weight of enemies facing Abdulrahim and the fact he wasn’t bringing much to the relationship except trouble.
Abdulrahim soon abandoned Australia for Asia, moving from country to country fast on the heels of any warning signs that Hamad’s “boys” were closing in.
His only revenge was to form a new alliance with a self-styled underworld social media influencer back in Australia, feeding him information that was used in nasty personal attacks on Hamad and his crew, as well as a host of other underworld players Abdulrahim was feuding with or simply didn’t like.
But the information was often wrong or misleading, and his online compatriot would eventually be targeted – like so many of Abdulrahim’s few remaining friends – for retribution.
In October, the influencer nearly drove right into an ambush set up outside his home. The masked assailants only aborted their mission after being seen by a passer-by who called triple zero.
In fact, with Abdulrahim in hiding, those he left behind felt the full brunt of Hamad’s animosity in a string of firebombings, shootings and a kidnapping.
After an associate handed over $150,000 to secure the release of a relative who had been taken hostage, Abdulrahim exploded at them with accusations that the money would be used by his enemies to pay for the murder contract on him.
By the time Abdulrahim was gunned down in Preston on Tuesday morning, his family and small ring of associates were hunkered down and able to do little more than try to stay out of harm’s way.
In the immediate aftermath of the shooting, Abdulrahim’s distraught sister was quick to point the finger, naming who she suspected was behind the attack in a social media post.
“Whoever shot my brother to death, I’m after u,” she wrote. “I know it’s u dog.
“Never ends here.”
Despite that initial explosive reaction, underworld sources say there has been little talk of revenge for what has happened, but rather hope that the bloody, nerve-shredding reign of terror may be finally ending.
It’s a sentiment echoed by veteran organised crime detectives, who view retaliation as unlikely given Abdulrahim and his inner circle couldn’t protect themselves – let alone strike back – in the months leading up to his assassination.
On Wednesday, cars lined the street outside Abdulrahim’s parents’ home in Brunswick as family and friends gathered to mourn.
In keeping with Islamic tradition, the days following Abdulrahim’s funeral will be marked by a three-day mourning period known as the “azza”, in which people offer their condolences to the family.
Visitors typically bring staple pantry items such as dates, sugar, coffee and flour as a gesture of support.
For now, those who knew Abdulrahim await the moment to pray over his body before he is laid to rest.
Start the day with a summary of the day’s most important and interesting stories, analysis and insights. Sign up for our Morning Edition newsletter.