I Am Your Enemy...

Charles Gravesen sat at a dark corner in a pub while the news was being broadcast from a TV in the background.  The newscaster was reporting about the continued arrests today of hundreds more criminals within ‘King’ Charles Gravesen’s criminal syndicate.

As the good news rolled on, Webb returned from the bathroom and sat down again.

“I don’t believe it really worked,” Webb said.  “All criminals gone.  No more organised crime whatsoever…and since the drug supply vanished, it’s put a stop to so many more social problems.  Quite a feat.  How do you feel?”

“Guilty,” Charles said.

“Why?”

“You don’t know the things I had to do.”

“Well, it’s over now.  I can’t believe that at one time, you were in control of all drugs in the city.  So tell me, did you ever consider not giving it up?”

Charles drained his glass and stood up before saying, “Of course not Joseph.  I’m going to let you in on a little secret…only the weak need power.”

Charles flashed him a smile before he left.

***

Not too long afterwards, a semi-inebriated Charles swayed through the empty park at night.  He stumbled and used a bench that happened to be at hand to steady himself, before taking a seat on it.

As Charles doubled over, his face in his hands, he gradually started to cry.  For what reason, he wasn’t sure, perhaps there were too many to choose just one.

While looking down, a pair of shoes came into view.  He looked up into the face of Zedd, who was wearing his usual suit with an addition of a black top hat.

As Zedd removed one pistol, Charles just nodded and said, “I see.  My work is done…I think I’ve earned this.”

Zedd didn’t even hesitate in shooting his old boss twice in the face.  As Charles fell to the ground, Zedd, with no emotion, re-holstered his weapon and steadily strolled away through the park, leaving Charles where he hit the ground.

***

There was an understandable solemn atmosphere in the Superintendent’s office as Eliza met with Webb.

“How did this happen?” Webb asked her.

“Must’ve been Geisler’s order.”

“How could he have known it was Charles?”

“His entire empire has crumbled around him, from the top bosses to the lowest ranks…all arrested.  He must’ve known that only one person could’ve given over all the details of his operation, the man he put in charge of it.  He probably only had a hunch, but that’s what’s different between our world and theirs.  He can act on his hunches…he doesn’t need to be certain.”

“We can’t let him get away with this.”

“We won’t.  He’s the next and final target.  We’re about to raid his mansion.  We’re also going to arrest his daughter.  Charles provided us with pictures of her…with children.  I want you and Geoghan to lead it.”

***

A large SWAT team began to invade the mansion of Werner Geisler with Webb and Geoghan leading them in.

The police charged through the mansion, making their way through a wide hallway decorated in a medieval gothic style with empty suits of armour watching the action.  From a set of broad stairs to the side, several of Geisler’s bodyguards appeared and were quickly gunned down by the police.

The police group then headed through a courtyard filled with beautiful flowers and large statues of angels, which were illuminated by electric lights during this night.  They were ambushed by some of Geisler’s loyal guards and were made to fight them off, using the probably very valuable statues as cover.

In the parlour, a large detachment of Geisler’s men took cover as the police breached the room and a violent but brief gunfight ensued as the SWAT team rapidly took care of their obstacles.

In the spacious living room, Zedd sat alone on an opulent settee while reading a book.  The clamour of a gun battle could be heard clearly from elsewhere in the mansion.

Zedd calmly closed his book and carefully laid it on the table next to his top hat.  He then removed his twin pistols and stood up.

Turning around, Zedd used the couch as cover, before taking both pistols and pointing them at the door ahead, frozen in place as he waited for them to come.

The gunshots died down and a few seconds of silent serenity passed, before the door was blown open.  Zedd professionally killed the first two SWAT team members who charged through, but as several more burst in, Zedd forced himself to take cover from their bullets behind the expensive couch.

More SWAT police arrived, including Geoghan and Webb, who also took cover and exchanged shots with Zedd.  From a side door, another SWAT team suddenly breached.

Zedd started to shoot at the new threats while the original team shot him with a burst of assault fire.  A series of bullets hit Zedd in the chest and he fell down with a spray of blood.

Webb, Geoghan and their SWAT escort then approached the corpse of Zedd, lying with his eyes open in a puddle of his own blood.  Webb looked down at him not moving before suddenly shooting him in the head.

“What are you doing?” Geoghan exclaimed.

“Just following some advice,” Webb replied.

***

Webb and Geoghan led the SWAT team down a long narrow corridor with Charles’ paintings lining the way, a running theme of the Grim Reaper, skeletons, demons and angels were ever present.

They arrived at the large double doors at the end of the corridor and Webb pushed them open, letting the police into Werner Geisler’s bedroom.  As they entered, the nurse shrieked and hid in a corner by the long curtains.

Webb ignored her and approached Geisler who was lying in bed, connected to various life sustaining machines.

“Good evening,” Webb said.  “Werner Geisler, you are under arrest for…well, pretty much everything if I’m honest.  It’s over Geisler, there’s no way to escape now.”

Geisler turned his head to him weakly and tried to say something before his head hit the pillow and the heart monitor began to flat line.  Webb looked up at the machine and then down at the corpse of the infamous Werner Geisler.  He didn’t want to say anything.

***

Eliza walked past the many tombstones of the cemetery with a bouquet of white flowers in one hand.  She soon arrived at the grave she had been searching for to see someone was there before her.

She approached Webb from behind, her presence unknown to him and lay a hand on his shoulder.  He didn’t jump in surprise, or even look around to see who it was, for he already knew.

“Eliza?” he said.

“How did you know it was me?”

“Who else would come here?”

Eliza looked down at the small gravestone in front of them.  Inscribed on it were the words, CHARLES ‘MAD-KING’ GRAVESEN

“Why does it say that on his tombstone?” Webb asked.  “Why wasn’t the truth about him revealed?”

“Me and Charles already agreed we would never publicly reveal the truth about him.  He still has family in other cities who would be at risk.  He would gain many enemies and they might exact their revenge on them.”

“It doesn’t seem fair.”

“I know.  It’s the nature of sacrifice.  There is something that is worth more than your life…your reputation, because that is all that will remain of your time spent here after you’re gone.  What others think of you has and always will be important.  Whether right or wrong, we can’t help it.  Life is meaningless without other people.  And he gave up that privilege…because he knew there is something worth even more than credit.  There is a purpose in doing the right thing, even if no one knows you’ve done it.  It is our duty, not as policemen but as people, to improve the lives of our fellow humans as much as we can, no matter what the cost.  To contribute what we can, whatever the amount.  Charles knew this.  Charles…was a friend of mine.”

***

The auctioneer brought his gavel down hard and said, “The next item from the goods seized at Werner Geisler’s mansion is lot 616, the last portrait ever painted by the notorious crime lord, Charles Gravesen.”

Two men brought out a large painting and set it down on the stage at this police auction.  On the canvas, there was a huge devil sitting on a throne of skulls in a seemingly endless blue desert.  The Devil was a large demonic figure coloured in blue and grey.  There were the standard horns and claws.  It looked as expected, all except the face.

Instead of the usual satanic features, the creature bore the face of Charles Gravesen.

“There is an inscription carved into the frame,” the auctioneer continued.  “It reads, ‘I Am Your Enemy; You Are My Friend’."