“No fucking way bro!” I said to myself as I dropped my cup to the floor.

“Jesus… Jesse, are you okay?” Jane yelled at me initially but then she must have seen the look on my face.

“What? Did you break something else?” He finally put down the paper to scold me.

My face was glued to the TV, the lady reporter kept speaking and I could almost imagine how things went down scene by scene. I could almost imagine how Gustavo Fring’s face…well at least half of his face looked now.

“Jesse what’s the matter with you?” She started cleaning up the mess I made.

Unbeknownst to either of them, I whispered quietly to myself.

“What’s the problem? The problem’s that he…. won.”

_________________________________________________________________________

FACE OFF PART ONE

“Well how did it go?” Michael Ehrmantraut asked his employer, Gustavo Fring.

“He refused.” The man with the suit responded with his usual no nonsense demeanor.

Michaeal was glad that the kid said no, it isn’t very common that people like him lasted in his line of work for a long time. He had told Gustavo Fring as much.

“The kid won’t last for too long. He’ll relapse when he starts cooking again.” He had said to his employer before he met up with the kid. It didn’t convince him.

“I offered him Ten million dollars and he turned me down.” Now that he did not expect. He thought for sure the kid would leap at a chance to make a million a month let alone ten.

The kid really surprised them all, from being a routine junkie to now owner of a successful business with plans for expansion. He made his million and got out before it killed him.

He was smarter than he initially gave him credit.

‘Perhaps even smarter than me.’ He thought with a slight grin as his eyes settled on his boss’s shoulder.

“He was a perfect replacement for gale.” His boss said with the emotion most resembling anger.

It’s funny how fast things turn to shit. A month ago, things were going really well. Eladio and his cartel were dead, and the world became Gus Fring’s oyster. With Lydia they could tap into the whole European market and now that the cartel was more or less completely destroyed inside out, the Americas now belonged to Gus Fring. Everything was going so well.

He grunted once in slight frustration.

Walter White, a normal semi-retired, high school chemistry teacher was responsible for all of their headaches.

His gut instinct proved correct because Walter was not in the money business, he was in the feeling powerful business. When the guy wasn’t his usual cowardly self, he reckoned himself to be a cowboy. Oh yeah, he really had an ego. Things have to go his way and no other.

At first things went smoothly. Then in a matter of weeks ‘Gale was insufficient’ and he had to have his former partner Jesse Pinkman back.

After a great amount of arguing, Gus Fring reluctantly decided to see what he can do with Pinkman. Before they could do that though they had to make sure that Jesse Pinkman was completely clean. He had to practically live in that car for about a week monitoring Pinkman.

After a few days, he realized that maybe hiring Pinkman wasn’t such a bad idea. The kid seemed to have a smart head on his shoulder and knew how to keep a low profile. If he wasn’t caught by Pinkman that day, maybe he would have been more amenable to come back.

I guess I spooked him!

That one was on him, absolutely.

Walter wouldn’t hear it though, he whined and complained more than his granddaughter, but the man knew how to manufacture methamphetamine.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Profits had nearly quadrupled and so Walter White became an indispensable part of Gus Fring’s empire.

That was about the time when the cartel started sniffing their way up here and when Fring didn’t want to bend the knee they made their move.

Gale Boetticher was shot in his apartment in the middle of night. The police said it was a botched robbery, but they knew the truth. Eladio was responsible for the hit and the message was loud and clear. Send me your main cook or I’ll have him killed.

So they had to comply…well sort of.

Who knew a poisoned bottle of Tequila would kill Eladio and his cartel. He only wished Ignacio could have seen Eladio choke on his own spit and croak.

When Walt witnessed the whole incident, he behaved for a few days, and he almost thought that that would be the end of their problems.

But life had this cruel way of reminding you that you were its bitch.

A few weeks after their victory was when Walt’s DEA brother-in-law started taking an interest in staking out Los Pollos Hermanos. It was obvious that he knew about the whole thing. He tried setting a GPS tracking device on Fring’s car.

Hank Schrader had to go and go as soon as possible. They couldn’t be reckless with the way they dealt with the DEA. They did not fuck around with the lives of their agents. So it was going to be a really hard job.

He had sympathies for the man, the Assistant Special Agent was good police and only doing his job but if they just let him be, he’ll eventually discover the money trail. When that happens Hailee’s money goes away and he would have no way to ensure her future.

ASAC Schrader has to go. He understood it, Gus understood it but Walt obviously wouldn’t.

That didn’t mean that something couldn’t be done about this.

When Walt offered to find a way to resolve this, Gus accepted.

At the time he knew that Walt was only stalling, trying desperately to find a hail mary in this mess, he had even told Fring as much. Gus Fring, however, wanted to see if Walter could indeed find a way to calm his brother-in-law down.

But that all changed as soon as the ASAC brought Fring in for a personal ‘meeting’ with DEA brass. It was more of an interrogation than the meeting of old pals shooting the shit.

He still remembered the fury on his boss’s face.

“What do we do now?” He knew that there would be no response but still something had to be done. Something had to be done about Walt when Walter figured out that they killed his brother-in-law.

“It seems we have no choice but to make do with what we have.” Surprising his employer was more talkative than usual.

“I know you’re not looking for advice…” He offered as he usually did expect silence again, but this time Gus Fring turned towards him with a serious look and did a small nod.

“We don’t need Walt now that ‘they’re’ gone. The product from before would do ...Of course, it’ll take time to find a quality chemist but once we do, we’ll go from there.”

Gus Fring considered it for a second and then kept on walking as if he had said nothing.

‘Well, that went well as expected.’Well that went well as expected.’

“I already have a chemist ready.”

He had to stop for a second. This man was truly terrifying.

“Then…”

“Not yet. Making it look natural will take time and preparation.”

He had interrupt him there,

They were near Fring’s car now.

“Time is not a luxury we have. If we don’t do something about this. By the looks of it, he wasn’t convinced like the others. He’s gonna come back harder and smarter.”

Fring opened the door and faced him, he reminded Fring once more.

“All it takes is one slip up and everything turns to shit.”

Fring looked like he was about to speak up when his phone started ringing.

He took out the phone from his breast pocket and accepted the call.

His face dropped when Tyrus’s voice spoke, “The last Salamanca is a rat.”

“How sure are you?”

“We saw him leaving from the DEA’s building.”

He spoke the next words with slight hesitation,

“And….”

The realization that something had to be done about this whole thing occurred to him very quickly.

“Alright. I’ll call you back.” He flipped the phone ending the call.

Gus Fring still had his hand on the door, he was waiting for him to continue,

“It’s about Salamanca…. he might have turned rat.”

_________________________________________________________________________

Something had to be done and done quickly! If the old, crippled son of a bitch turned rat then they really were finished but turns out he really just tried to fuck with the Feds. Well to bad, this little trick will cost him his life.

“What else?” Gus Fring said firmly as he had his back turned away. He was looking outside the window, contemplating his next move.

His hands were in his pockets, but he knew inside his fist were rolled into a ball.

“Nothing. The wiretap confirms as much. They have nothing.” Tyrus responded with a slight tinge of fear.

“I see.” Gus spoke quietly but he might as well have shouted. His face might have been as cold as stone but the fury in his eyes gave him away.

“We could handle it…I mean if you want-” Fring cut Tyrus off before he could finish.

“That won’t be required. I’ll do it myself.”

“There might be DEA, it’s better if I do it-”

“No. I have to be the one to do it.” Fring said this time in a sharp tone. It wasn’t up for discussion it seemed.

Guess the old dog was going to finally die! He thought with relief. Hector Salamanca did, after all, threaten to have his granddaughter killed. He didn't forget that.

“You want me to be there.” He offered his services, but Fring didn’t want it.

“Tyrus will be enough. Make sure the cook goes uninterrupted and keep track of Schrader in the meantime.”

He wanted to see the old man croak for all the people he killed and the innocent lives he ruined but guess that wasn’t going to happen.

Gus Fring cleared his throat and said to himself, “Today it ends.”