17 Face Off Part 2 : The End?

The drive there was quiet and tense. Gustavo Fring adjusted his tie once more. It was a nervous tick of his, something he did when he was stressed.

The day was here. His only regret was that he couldn't torture that man even more. He had let his emotions dictate his course before but that wouldn't do now. The time for revenge was over, Max was avenged. Eladio and the rest are dead. Now to finish the final member of that wretched family.

Salamanca! He thought with disgust.

The car pulled near the nursing home's parking lot.

"We're here." Tyrus Kitt announced as if he didn't have eyes.

He sensed that he was too angry.

No! I have to calm down, I can't lose my composure here.

He took in a deep breath and calmed himself. While reading himself, his men were searching the area for any suspicious activity.

Once it became clear that there were no DEA agents and enough time had passed, he got out of the car.

A cold draft hit his face.

Maybe it'll rain.

He started walking to Hector Salamanca's room.

Gus Fring had this kind of strict military stride to him but it was more apparent now than ever before. One of the side effects of being in the Chilean military for so long but that was a story for another time. The only thing that occupied Gustavo Fring's mind was Max's horrified face with a bullet hole in the side of his head.

"¿Por qué? ¿Por qué Gustavo?" Max asked him now, pleading with him to turn around and save his soul, begging him to not stoop to their level again. He knew that if Max could see him now, he wouldn't approve of the monster he had become. Max would have wanted him to move on with his life.

His jaw tightened and his mind replied firmly back in English, "For Love."

He knew his way around the nursing home, this wasn't his first rodeo. Once he reached the room, he entered without knocking. Tyrus scanned the room carefully once more.

Gus didn't bother with that, instead he stared down Hector in disgust,

"What kind of a man talks to the DEA?" He asked rhetorically, while his eyes drilled into the old man but Hector Salamanca's eyes were elsewhere.

"No man." He answered his own question. "No man at all."

Tyrus took out the box from his breast pocket and flipped it open. Gus grabbed a nearby chair and pushed it towards Hector, he still wouldn't look at him.

He sat on the chair carefully, while not breaking eye contact with the cripple. Even if he was an old paralysed man in a wheelchair, he knew how vicious Salamancas could be.

It made no logical sense but he didn't want to risk it like he did two decades ago for which Max paid the price.

He would not take his eyes off the old man but the old man wouldn't return the gesture. He never did. Instead he was too busy looking at Tyrus who was almost done with filling morphine into the syringe.

Morphine was too painless, he wished he could have found a way to give him the death he deserved but that wasn't realistic. Especially since he just talked to the DEA this morning. A painful death would just bring too much attention and perhaps Hank Schrader might just take notice.

'The DEA!' He thought with quiet fury prompting him to scan Hector Salamanca head to toe.

"A crippled little rata. What a reputation to leave behind…"

He took in the air not averting his eyes as he signaled for the syringe, Tyrus obediently handed it to him.

"Is that how you want to be remembered?" He mocked the man once more knowing fully he couldn't respond.

Still a part of him irked when the bastard wouldn't acknowledge him.

He had to play weak and vulnerable here, so he looked at the syringe and said,

"Last chance to look at me Hector."

A few seconds later and the old man still had to acknowledge him. Gus dropped the impromptu act and decided that enough was enough.

He went to inject the morphine into the wheelchair bound man's tube-

Midway through he felt Salamanca's gaze fall on him. He had to freeze midway when their eyes met. How many years has it been since he felt that cruel gaze? But he didn't feel any hatred from the man this time.

For a moment he couldn't believe that this was the same man that killed Max. For a moment he couldn't believe that this crippled old man wearing adult diapers was once his sworn enemy. There was weakness and incredible sorrow in his eyes. He looked like he was about to break down and confess all of his sins to him. Maybe even start begging for his life.

Gustavo Fring blinked.

That was all he could do at that moment. He couldn't process what was happening right now.

Gustavo Fring blinked again.

This time however, Hector Salamanca's regretful face turned into a nasty snarl, his semi-closed eyes opened fully and glared at him in defiance.

Gustavo Fring's jaw was open, the monster he thought he long defanged was still very much alive. Before Gus could regain composure, his attention was now directed towards Hector Salamanca's finger ringing his bell furiously.

DING

DING

DING

DING

DING

Is he trying to attract attention? He thought for a second but then halted that line of inquiry.

Hector was a Salamanca, one could say 'The Salamanca.' He did not fear death any more than the rest of the crazy bastards.

DING

DING

DING

DING

DING

His instinct told him something else was going on. Something much more strategic.

DING

DING

DING

DING

DING

That's when he caught the small light beeping at the wheelchair's base.

DING

DING

DING

DING

DING

It was a cylindrical device. His eyes went back to Salamanca's finger ringing the bell. He quickly understood what the crippled bastard was doing.

DING

DING

DING

DING

DING

He got up on his feet in an attempt to flee.

DING

DING

"HoaHHH"

DIN-

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

_________________________________________________________________________

His vision was hazy, he couldn't see through one eye. The Sirens kept ringing, further bleeding his eardrums. He couldn't feel anything, he couldn't smell anything.

All he could do was walk out of the room with his careful stride. He walked towards the hallway with all of his might.

He knew he wouldn't live. That much was sure. When he reached the end of the room, he heard the nurse gasp in horror.

It can't be that bad. He thought with slight humour, he even tried to smile but alas his face wouldn't move anymore.

He adjusted his tie, it was his favourite. He wore it for this occasion specifically. When he was satisfied with its positioning, he took one more second to keep standing. After that long second was done, he was content to fall face forward to the underworld.

But right before Satan grabbed his soul, he taunted him with the image of one of his employees. Walter White was smiling at him as he was enjoying himself with a bottle of red wine that he had gifted him.

________________________________________________________________________

Elsewhere

He was sitting inside his car when he heard it. Apparently, they had yet to recognize the body, but he knew...he knew that he had won.

He changed the radio station and left the parking lot. It was between Hank and Gus. So Gus had to go.

The plan began stewing in his head when he saw Gus taunt Hector Salamanca with that pendant. When Hank started getting suspicious of Fring, he knew it wouldn't be too soon until he did in Hank just like how he did the cartel.

Walter White had a small suspicion that the only thing that kept him and his family safe was that Gale was dead. But he knew….he knew that it wouldn't take him much longer to replace him.

But Jesse Pinkman? He scoffed.

Who would have thought Gustavo Fring was that desperate. Of course he knew that Gus knew if anything happened to Hank then it would end their 'business relationship'

He knew that his first priority would be to replace him and then immediately kill his brother-in-law.

He knew that Gus didn't have much time so of course he turned to his previous student.

"Tch." he said with annoyance. He was the one who recommended Jesse, he was the one who said he couldn't deal with Gale and his 'ticks' so he needed his old partner back. Gus wouldn't hear it then, he couldn't trust a 'junkie'

Thankfully after Jesse had chased him out that day, he installed sound recording wire into his ex-student's house. Of course, it was for Jesse's own safety, who knew what Jesse would do with all that money, so he enlisted Saul's help in getting the state-of-the-art surveillance device.

Thankfully this device helped him sniff out Gus's ploy before he could put his hands on Jesse. Still a part of him was impressed that Jesse actually had the balls to say no to Gus but then again Jesse didn't know what that man was capable of.

As he got closer to the laundromat, he switched the first station back again. He parked the car nearby and waited for the news. After five minutes, a lady came on the air and announced,

"...authorities have identified that Gustavo 'Gus' Fring, owner of Albuquerque's very own Los Pollos Hermanos, was caught in the initial blast and has sadly succumbed to his wounds…."

The relief he felt when he heard the words Gus Fring and dead was incomparable. He shut his eyes and put his skull on the headrest of his car.

He allowed himself a moment of celebration with a fist pump. He had earned that much at least. Walter White looked arrogantly at the laundromat with a victorious grin.

After another twenty minutes, he went inside the laundromat and burned down Gus Fring's underground laboratory. Effectively ending all ties, he had to Gus's drug empire.

________________________________________________

Later that day

In the middle of the desert. Walter White waited for the last man standing. Michael Ehrmantraut. He saw a sedan speeding to where his Pontiac was.

Just one more move and he would win it all.

Mike got outside the car with his gun drawn out.

"Get the fuck out, you piece of shit!" He spat out.

He promptly did so with both of his hands up in the air. "Mike-" He started but was cut off.

"No you shut the fuck up! Shut your mouth." Mike's eyes were bloodshot with rage.

"Why the fuck did you burn the labrotary? Why…huh…why did you think that would have helped this mess."

"Michael listen to me-"

Michael Ehrmantraut's gun clicked, "Talk. But try to pull any shit with me. Walter, I swear to god I'll blow your brains out." His finger was on the trigger. Not displaying the best of the firearm safety for an ex cop but maybe that was the point.

"Okay…Jesus…okay…I thought-"

"You thought?" Mike interrupted; his teeth gritted in fury.

Jesus let me finish, you cranky madman!

"I…heard that the cartel got Gus…and…with my brother-in-law investigating Gus, it wouldn't take too long until they find that fucking lab and then what? Then what, Mike? Then we all go to prison for the rest of our lives.." He said quickly as he stared at the end of the barrel, hoping that Mike's finger didn't twitch.

"So you went and burned down that lab…do you have any idea how many people had to die to build that thing? Did you even think about that, huh?"

"Look Mike…all I know is I heard Gus was killed in an explosion…I know Hank and it wouldn't have taken him much time to figure out everything. So I did what I thought was the best way forward. Burn all the evidence…. Jesus...Mike, they had all kinds of evidence on us."

Michael looked indecisive but it was still very clear that the man was pissed about the whole thing.

"You should have told me!" He said.

He won. He couldn't help but scoff at the realization that everything went to plan.

"I know…but I panicked…ah god…" He smacked his bald head in mock frustration.

"Everything just went to shit….all I knew was….all I knew was how my baby daughter would remember me after….I died. If they catch me, Mike…I don't think I could live…" He looked down in despair. A part of him truly believed his act.

He couldn't even imagine what would happen if people figured everything out. He didn't even want to think of that possibility.

So he used that emotion to act his ass off and apparently it worked on Mike.

"Walter, calm down. As long as you don't do something stupid again it'll be alright but then again this is 'you' we're talking about, so who knows?"

The outrage on his face was real when he said, "Excuse me?"

"Walter, please spare me the act."

He stuttered in response, "Wh..what..do you mean by that?"

"You like trouble…maybe even more than your own ass but I don't want to get into that now. Look, your piss poor impression of being an arsonist might have paid off in the short run but I assure you if you do crap like that again you'll definitely get caught."

"I did something else?"

".....Walter….I'm telling you-"

"Fring's laptop, I grabbed it from his office…I know it was risky but that laptop had all kinds of evidence on us."

Micheal looked stumped, almost like he forgot about Fring's laptop.

"Uh…how did you?.....You know what…forget that I even asked."

He remembered that he had his men temporarily elsewhere. So Walt must have taken the opportunity to nab the laptop. It was a good thing too, because that laptop had enough video evidence to put them all away.

They stood there awkwardly for a few more seconds until Michael said, "Well….looks like that's that….This is goodbye-"

"Wait, that's it. You're just gonna give up like that?"

"Listen here Wiseguy, the cartel or at least whatever was left of it got our boss, that means that eventually the men who blew up a nursing home are gonna come after us…so it's better to stay low until things cool down."

"And what if I don't have time…what if I die before they kill me."

"Tough shit, I guess. You have millions anyways, so lose the desperate act and move on with your life, Walter. Fring is dead and along with him goes all of our distribution, security, capital oh and not to mention, someone had the bright Idea of blowing up the lab before consulting me on the issue. So goodbye, see ya, sayonara and hopefully this will be the last time I have to put up with you."

Right before he turned Walt spoke up, "50-50. A 50-50 partnership. If we don't get the territory now then it'll belong to someone else and by that time we'll really be dead. If we partner up now, you and I will be making ten times what we made with Fring-"

"Not everything is about money, Walter." Mike said with slight disgust.

"Oh really. It's not." Walt said with an exaggerated laugh and gave Mike a side eye.

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"All you have to do is introduce me to a supplier and I'll do the rest-"

"I'm not gonna do that Walter. Now, I'm gonna go back inside my car and this will be the last time we talk. You got that?"

Walter grit his teeth begrudgingly, he didn't say anything in response.

Mike shook his head twice in disbelief and started making his way to his car when-

BAAAANG

Mike didn't understand right away but eventually he felt the sensation of water running down his neck. The only problem was, it wasn't raining. Suddenly he felt lightheaded.

He immediately understood what was happening, the weasel had just shot him in the head.

Before he could make his move-

BAAAANG

BAAAANG

BAAAANG

BAAAANG

BAAAANG

Walter White fired all of his remaining shots at once and the moron missed all of them, not a single one landed on Mike.

"Oh you fucked up now! You piece of shit!" Mike announced as blood rushed out of his mouth.

Walt dropped his small revolver and looked like he had just shit his pants. His eyes wide and mouth agape, the only thing he was able to say was "Mike….please"

Mike took out the gun from his holster. He was going to point it at the coward and put one right between his eyes.

Walter's hands were shivering and his eyes full of terrible fear.

But just as he was about to do the deed, the gun slipped out of his hand.

Mike blinked twice.

Wait a minute…what's happening?

In a career spanning decades, Michael Ehrmantraut had made a lot of mistakes, some from stupidity, while most were simply a product of naivety.

Never, never had he floundered with a firearm.

Walter still had his hands up and shivering but then when he understood what was happening, he jumped at the opportunity. He lunged at the gun like his life depended on it, it probably did.

Mike was obviously closer but his body just wouldn't move for some reason.

Walter grabbed the gun and pointed it at Mike but this time he didn't fire.

Guess the jackass learned his lesson.

Michael grimaced as the end grew closer.

He fell backwards, pain seared through his head as he hit the ground.

___________________________________________________________

Walter White walked carefully towards Mike's body, still afraid that the tough son of a bitch could jumpscare him. He pointed the gun at Mike's body and walked carefully inch by inch.

The scene was gruesome, Mike's head was drowned in a pool of blood. He was still alive, his eyes were blinking and staring into the blue evening sky.

After he blinked for the third time was when it hit Walter White.

"I forgot…I have Gus's laptop…..I'm sure he has contacts in there....Jesus, Mike...I…didn't have to kill you. I could have just….I'm sorry…Mike."

Mike's eyes didn't look at Walt but he let out a small dissatisfied grunt. A few moments after that Mike's eyes stopped moving.

Walt looked side to side making sure no one was there. The evening sun was setting down and he had to bury a body in the desert, but he hadn't thought to bring a shovel.

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