The Last Hero

April 3rd, 1979

April 3rd, 1979The heavily armed men behind Pete “Shorty” Williams had itchy trigger fingers and prepared to shoot at the slightest provocation. As leader of the Street Kings, Pete realized these meetings, as short as they were, might result in bodies hitting the floor. His entourage understood the stakes of this meeting were high, so they came prepared to kill if necessary. Tensions had been at an all-time high since the police were forced from the city last year. Across the table sat the leader of Raging 86's, Brian “Buzzsaw” Kelly. Buzzsaw, the only Caucasian g**g leader in Crystal City, stood at 5'8” with a slim build and black, slicked-back hair, giving him a boyish, 1950s mobster look. Pete underestimated no one and Buzzsaw would be no exception. The man didn't get his name from his charming good looks or his well-manicured nails. Many years ago he caught someone flirting with his wife and, in a fit of rage, grabbed a kitchen knife and sliced the man's balls off. Since that point, most people chose the safe route and avoided eye contact with his wife or any girlfriends he may have accompanying him. Pete never understood the man's uncanny ability to switch from calm to furious faster than one could flip a light switch. Buzzsaw was drumming his fingers on the table impatiently, which didn't bode well for the pace of this meeting.

“You called this meeting so let's get this show on the road already,” Buzzsaw grumbled. He ceased drumming and leaned forward, a demonic smile spreading across his face. “I have this hot piece of a*s waiting for me in the car, and I don't intend to leave her waiting for long, if ya know what I mean.”

Pete forced a smile. He never let his disgust of the man show. “Of course.”

A piece of paper sat on the table in front of Pete. He placed his hand over it and hesitated for a moment before sliding it across the table toward Buzzsaw.

Buzzsaw glanced down but made no move toward the paper. For a moment, Pete worried the outcome of this meeting would fall apart before it began. After staring at the paper for a minute, Brian dropped a finger on it and slid it closer. He picked it up and scanned the paper. As he read it his eyes narrowed.

“This is it?” Buzzsaw scoffed.

“I wanted to keep it simple,” remarked Pete. “Ever since the cops left and the politicians fell under our thumb, we've been too busy killing each other to attend to more important matters. Our businesses have suffered. Too many good people lost their lives over a pointless war. Our real enemies are gone and its time we stop fighting each other.” Pete leaned back and pounded his chest with a closed fist. “We own this city now. It's time we stop destroying it from within and turn it into the cash cow it can be.”

Buzzsaw dropped his gaze to the paper. Pete folded his hands and waited for his response calmly. He realized a treaty between the gangs meant each leader would be required to relinquish a portion of their turf if this plan were to work. Pete understood this would be a difficult decision for all involved, but he needed to make everyone realize there would be a pot of gold at the end of this rainbow.

“It seems you put a lot of work into this.” His eyes drifted from the paper and locked on Pete's. “I can respect that.”

Buzzsaw dropped the piece of paper and reached into his sport coat. The action caused Pete's men to tighten their grips on their weapons. After briefly rummaging around inside his jacket, he pulled out a pen and held it up for all to see.

“I'll be honest with you, Shorty. I'm tired of all the bullshit too. Let's make us some money, shall we?” With a flick of the pen he signed the bottom of the paper.

Pete took the paper, folded it and shoved it into his pocket. He stood slowly because he didn't want to agitate the already frayed nerves of the armed men surrounding them. He extended his hand across the table.

Buzzsaw smiled at it. “Nice doing business with ya.” He stood and accepted the outstretched hand, giving it a brisk shake before pulling away. “I'll see you soon to discuss the specifics, but now it's time for me to address more urgent matters.” He winked and left the room with his foot soldiers in tow.

Pete looked down at his hand. For a second he was overcome with the overwhelming urge to douse it in soap and hot water and scrub until his skin was raw. Despite his revulsion he couldn't help but be filled with hope and excitement for the future of this city.

Nothing could stop them.