The Neo-Metropol Heist

46: Edward

"I knew this would be too much for you to resist," Castells grinned, "revenge. It dulls the senses when a man has only vengeance to draw on. It make you stupid."
Edward sat slumped against the wall where Garistag had left him as Castells stood over him, smug as he had ever been. They hadn't even bothered to bind him, like they had Zakarias. He was too broken to be a problem.
Edward tried to respond, but succeeded only in coughing up a mist of blood.
"I feel for you, Edward, I truly do," Castells said, his hands clasped together as though he was giving an election speech. He wore a spotless designer suit, ready to leave his den of torture and return to his version of legitimacy in the party above, "all those years rotting away in prison with nothing but hate to guide you, to sustain you. Did you curse my name, on those cold nights, old friend?"
Edward did not try to speak, he simply met the gaze of the man he had once trusted with his life. He chanced a glance to Zakarias when Castells looked away, but his eyes were no longer confident or smug - in fact, Edward thought he saw a hint of fear.
The man named Garistag simply watched the events take place with a spine like iron, his hands on the pistol at his waist. Across his chest, he wore a belt of grenades. Why would he have need of those, Edward wondered in a falling haze of elsewhere.
Castells snapped him back to reality with a gentle slap to his face.
"Do you disappear often that way, old man?" Castells asked, peering into his eyes, "has all those years you spent incarcerated rotted away your mind? Has your determination to ruin me done this to you?"
No, Edward thought, not able to voice it, age has done this to me, you are not the only thing that mattered to me.
"All of those years, mine the face you saw before you slept and before you awoke," Castells said, "and now you come to steal away my spoils, because all those years ago I won."
Edward suddenly found a surge of strength.
"Won?" He hissed, feeling blood trickle from his mouth - or was it from his nose? "We weren't in competition, we were partners."
Castells laughed.
"We were never partners, you fool," he said, venom on his tongue, straying from his perfectly rehearsed charisma, "you stole from me, so I took my vengeance on you."
Edward couldn't comprehend it, at first, it was as though they had switched roles - what had he ever taken from Sergei Castells? Then, it clicked.
"Her?" He asked, shocked, still struggling to form the words, "all of this... because of Natalya?"
Edward only saw Sergei recoil uncomfortably at the truth rearing its head for a moment, before he slipped into memories of her - blonde hair, blue eyes, a smile that still made his heart warm.
"You ruined my life because Natalya didn't want you?" Edward asked, "you betrayed us for her?"
Castells' eyebrows became pointed little caterpillars and he snarled.
"You stole her from me," he said, "at first, yes, it was her. But I must say that I have quite enjoyed being very rich."
Edward struggled against his broken collarbone to shake his head.
"She was free to make her own choices, you can't control people because you want them for yourself," he coughed.
"I think I have proved that hypothesis incorrect," Castells grinned like a spoilt schoolboy, "she stood with me against you."
Edward had always hoped that Castells had somehow forced Natalya to testify against him, because it had made it easier to comprehend that the only woman he had ever loved had betrayed him when he needed her most.
"She betrayed you, Edward," Castells smiled.
Edward nodded.
"She did," he said, his fingers getting cold very suddenly, "and for a long time I hated her like I hated you. And now it is one of my many regrets that I was never able to tell her that I forgive her."
Edward had looked for her when he had been released, truly he had. But she was gone - any reliable record of Natalya Marlowe had vanished when she emigrated. Edward had assumed that she was dead and that had hurt him.
"Oh, you old fool," Castells whispered, almost into his ear, "she still lives now. And she doesn't care."
Edward didn't expect the words to hurt the way they did, and it was all he could do to not let it show, letting the physical pain he was in mask it.
Castells stood up and looked him over like a horse-breeder would look over an injured horse.
"You have lost once again, Edward," Castells said, "and you shall not be allowed another chance to strike at me."
He glanced at Garistag and turned to the door.
"I would like to say it has been pleasure," he said, "goodbye, Edward."
With that, he was gone, and Garistag was looming over him, pistol drawn.
Edward could feel himself slipping away, he felt a strange sense of dread but it was quickly replaced by a cool sense of fear. How would the huge mercenary end his life? Would he feel it?
He truly regretted the fact that he hadn't been able to help Zakarias, and wondered for a moment what would happen to him, before his eyelids grew heavy.
Garistag drew his pistol and raised it level with Edward's head, and for a moment he remember poor Mr Chen in Long's casino in Little Wuhan. Had he felt the bullet before he'd died?
Edward thought of Natalya once more as he looked up the barrel of Garistag's gun, he wished that Castells had not told him that she was still alive, because that was a missed opportunity, and Edward could never abide those...
Then, something outside his head changed and it took him a few moments to register it. It looked like Zakarias had freed himself and charged Garistag, but surely not. The gun went off and a bright shock blasted him back to reality.
Edward glanced left and saw the broken tiles where the bullet had missed his head, then back to Zakarias. He was stumbling to his feet as Garistag rolled awkwardly on the floor.
"Come on, gramps," Zakarias said, scooping Edward up with his hands, "I'm not leaving you behind."
The two of them made quite a pair, as they limped out of the cell, trying to support each other.
They slipped out into the security room and Zakarias pulled the cell door shut a split second before Garistag could chase them.
"How did you free yourself?" Edward asked.
Zakarias grinned mutedly, holding up a small razor.
"Basic tools for any human distraction," he said, "our friend Garistag needs to work on his search skills. I just needed a distraction."
The room suddenly lit up with a red light paired with an angry siren.
"And that's our cue to leave," Zakarias said, picking up Edward's cane and handing it to him, "can you walk?"
Edward shook his head. No point in lying here. Zakarias nodded and wrapped his arm around him, taking his weight as much as he could with his own fractured body.
They left the security office and were back in the winding corridors, Edward trying to remember his way to the door and pointing weakly.
"... Can you hear me?" Aphelion broke in over their headsets, "anybody?"
"We're here, Aphelion, we're coming out," Zakarias replied before Edward could, "we need a pick up, like, now."
"We lost you but I've been tracking the security traffic, we're already waiting, you need to move," she said.
"You don't have to tell us twice," Zakarias said.
Behind them, they heard shouts, but Edward didn't dare look - or more accurately couldn't turn his neck to - as they turned a corner more shouts joined the chorus.
They turned into the main entry corridor when a spray of bullets lit up the air around them and they stumbled forward, almost losing their footing.
They saw the door ahead, the security pad next to it green.
"Aphelion, get ready to seal the door," Edward said as he felt their pursuers close in like wolves.
It was another five painful seconds before they were on the door, and as they opened it to step back out into the night air, somebody grabbed Edward's coat and pulled him away.
With all his might, he pushed forward, and in one motion unhooked his watch from his wrist, pressed it into Zakarias' hand and forced him out of the tunnel, slamming the door shut behind him.
"Wait, Edward," was all he managed to say before the door separated them.
"Aphelion," Edward coughed violently as the mercenaries pulled him away, "seal the door now."
In a split second, the door went red as Aphelion overrode it from somewhere else. Edward's shoulders slumped and he exhaled calmly as the mercenaries that weren't dragging him away tried frantically to open their own front door.
Then, he was on the floor and Castells was on him, gripping his neck tightly, his face wild and full of rage.
"You ridiculous, stupid old man," he spat as he rained blows that Edward no longer felt, "you have been a thorn in my side for too long, no more."
Edward realised then that he was going to die, but it wouldn't be by Sergei Castells' hand.
In his pocket, he found the grenade that he didn't even remember taking from the incapacitated Garistag.
It didn't look much like a grenade as he knew grenades to look, and for all he knew it could have been nothing more than a grenade designed to incapacitate, but it was all he had.
Everything in his life had come down to this moment, right back to the moment that he realised that Sergei Castells had betrayed him, but only because he couldn't exactly remember the moment he'd decided to become a thief.
He pulled the pin and the grenade began to throb in his hand.
He had wanted his revenge to be different to this - he would have liked to have robbed Castells like he had dreamed of doing every minute of every hour of every day for the last thirty-six years. But he knew then it was always going to end there, at that moment.
Edward was sad, of course, he would have liked to have seen Artem Foxe triumph, as he knew he would. The kid had a bright future, and a team that would stand behind him, even in a career where honour and trust were rare.
Oddly, he thought of Dante again, but only for a moment before his mind flickered to other things.
Castells saw the grenade and tried to pull away, to shout out for his men, but Edward hugged him close and didn't let go, using every ounce of strength he had.
The grenade throbbed faster and faster as he held it between him and Castells.
Edward would have liked to have won in a different way, but a desire to win was what had caused the entire chain of events that had led to that moment in the first place, so maybe that wasn't the important thing.
Edward was old, and he was tired. And he knew that this would be the best night's sleep he had had in years.
The last face he saw was Natalya's - she was still out there, somewhere, and even though she had betrayed him it was only her smile that he could see.
Castells cried out and Edward whispered, quietly, "you should have been smarter."
The grenade's throbs became a constant hum, and then there was a bright light that brought with it a warmth.
Edward Helten was dead before he felt the blast.