A/N: To all my fellow mourners, let's have a moment of silence for a legend... Meisner had become my favorite character, second only to Adalind, and my heart is extremely sad. It would seem Meisner was, after all, only human. When HW was destroyed, Renard tried to recruit Meisner, but BC was for Wesen. Sean would have made an exception for Meisner but Bonaparte didn't. He wasn't a Grimm either b/c BC would've had a use for him if he was, so he was just one awesome man! Of course this will be the last Meisner POV. May the warrior RIP!

Chapter 9

"Renard wanted me to join Black Claw," Burkhardt growled, eyes glued to the screen where Renard pulled Adalind, with Kelly in her arms, into a hug and kissed the top of her head. Meisner's heart dropped for what must be going through the father's head at that moment.

He tried to reason, "I'm sure he did. Having you on their side would be very advantageous. Her, too." Meisner indicated Trubel. Burkhardt needed to know that what he was seeing was all a ploy.

"Why do they want us?" Trubel asked with doubt.

"To control Wesen who won't agree with their agenda," he countered. "Grimms have always been very good at that. Black Claw will use the system at first, getting elected into office. Once they're there, they'll start making changes. Lower level positions at first, power grid, fire department, then the police. They'll work their way up all the way to council members," he sighed, "commissioners, assistant district attorneys, heads of department."

"Zuri wasn't trying to recruit me," detective Griffin stated with understanding.

"No, she was just trying to figure out what kind of information you have," Meisner answered him. "They're going to try to take down everyone around the Grimm." He was speaking to Burkhardt's partner but hoped the Grimm understood why BC went after Adalind and his son. Probably why they placed Renard in such an ambitious position, since Burkhardt and him had worked together as allies for years. The aces in the hole, so to speak. Glancing back in Burkhardt's direction, Meisner continued, "This won't be a war you can fight alone. Friends make you vulnerable." Meisner stated the facts without criticism. That fact that this Grimm had a loyal ring of Wesen and Kehrseite around him was admirable and a true sign of the man's integrity, still this was his Achilles's heel as well. Comprehension seemed to fully hit the Grimm.

Eve approached and broke through the somber strain with, "I've gotten as much as out of her as I could."

"Is she...uh," detective Griffin tentatively began to inquire.

"She's not dead," Eve returned coldly.

"Good. I think," Griffin replied with a look at Burkhardt.

"What'd you get?" Meisner demanded.

"She was recruited by Black Claw five and a half months ago, specifically to go after Hank. She suggested that it wasn't a decision she was happy with, but she said she was sorry but I think she was just trying to play on my sympathies," Eve maintained in her cool, flat voice.

"Bet that didn't go down so well," Trubel snidely remarked.

"What about contacts?" Meisner asked pointedly.

"She resisted but I convinced her to dig deeper," Eve responded in a sinister tone.

"Sounds uncomfortable," Trubel observed

"It was," Eve stated with a hint of enjoyment in the lilt of her voice. Then she turned to him and continued, "She gave up a name, Bonaparte."

"Conrad Bonaparte? He's here?" Meisner queried. The plot was thickening and an opportunity to strike at the heart of BC may have presented itself.

"You know him?" Burkhardt questioned.

With a humorless chuckle, he reached down to the interface before him to bring up what information they had on this ringleader. "He's one of the founders of Black Claw. If he's here, he's running the operation," Meisner supplied while displaying the file onscreen and plugging the man's picture at the top of the BC diagram.

Griffin asked Eve, "What are you going to do with Zuri?"

"She's being taken to... a secure site," she replied vaguely while Hank's phone began to ring.

"Griffin," he answered. "It's dispatch..." then he exclaimed, "3045 Hudson St? Yeah, thanks."

When he ended the call Trubel asked, "There something wrong with that address?"

"Yeah, it's mine!" He returned with a look at his partner.

They both made to leave as Burkhardt said, "I'll check in with you later."

Now, what was Bonaparte's move? Meisner asked himself having no doubt this was just part of the game.

"Conrad Bonaparte, very little we know about him. What we do know isn't very helpful. He's in his forties, maybe fifties. He lives in Prague, Paris, Makkah, take your pick. He's either from Moracco, Eygpt, Budapest, or Iran," he informed Eve.

"So we know nothing of value," she returned.

"We do know he's a very bad man," Meisner observed.

"I got something you should see," Trubel stated walking up to them. "This is the laptop Nick brought in. It belongs to Tony Telemonti, the guy who stole Hank's phone. We know Black Claw is watching everybody, but now they're making sure everybody has them. Every single one of these photos was shared over the internet."

"This is more than just surveillance," he replied as Trubel's phone went off. It was Monroe so he said, "Take it."

"Monroe, I'm with Eve and Meisner. You're on speaker," Trubel answered.

"Yeah? That's great. I didn't even know if I would get you," Monroe responded.

"You okay?"Trubel asked.

"Uh, yeah. No, I just had a little confrontation with the BLack Claw guys stationed outside my house," Monroe informed them.

"You need clean up?" Eve inquired, once again in her little too eager voice.

"No, No I didn't go that far, not that I didn't want to, but uh, look Rosalee got their license plate," Monroe continued.

"Give it to us," Meisner instructed.

"Okay so Oregon plates 483WHF"

"Are they still out there?" asked Meisner.

"No, no they took off when I, you know, when out there to have a little chat," Monroe sighed. "I just thought you should have this. Plus the next that I see them, I'd like to address them by their first names," Monroe finished.

"Let you know what we find out," Meisner agreed.

"Sounds good." Then the call was ended.

Eve was at an interface searching their database for the plates. "It's in our system. The truck is registered at 521 Skyline Dr."

"It's the same address we got off the Black Claw operative we killed in Nevada," he stated when a picture of the Hundjager, that he fought at Diana's safe house, appeared on the display. "Map it. Find out everything about it and what's around it."

"Then we go see them," Trubel concluded with satisfaction.

Burkhardt returned to HW less than two hours later with a new lead. "521 Skyline Dr, we know it," Trubel informed him.

"How?" asked the detective.

"We got the address off one of Black Claw's that we killed in Nevada," Meisner supplied.

"And it's the same address registered to the truck parked outside Monroe's house," Trubel continued.

"The property is rural. Five acres, two-story house, three points of entry. Front, south side , and the back," Eve detailed.

"If that's where they've got Hank, you've got to be very careful," Meisner admonished him.

"Just give me Trubel and Eve," Burkhardt requested.

It was a gamble to send so many assets to one location, but he had confidence in the Grimm "Okay," he agreed with a nod.

"Let's go," stated Eve. Meisner's eyes followed the three of them as they departed hoping they weren't heading straight into an ambush. Forty minutes later, he realized they weren't the ones in peril.

All perimeter alarms for HW activated simultaneously, as his gaze fell with dread on the internal security monitors. Wesen of all sorts were teeming through the halls with machine guns trained at the ready. Lights flashed and members of HW emerged from their quarters, just to be mowed down where they stood. Meisner ordered to all personnel in the command center, "We have been breached and are under attack. To the defense!"

The coordinated attack of BC was swift and deadly, but Meisner would go down fighting. He joined the fray taking down any opponent that he could. They had invaded HIS place, lain siege to HIS purpose, and they would pay. Several figures emerged from command, as Meisner doubled back. He disarmed the first guy with a well-placed kick and knocked him down as another came at him from behind. Exchanging blows back and forth between these two alternately, a third joined the fight. Finally the first Wesen remained down and he broke the neck of the second with a nice crack, as the last guy rose once more. Charging Meisner, the remaining BC solider went down when a double footed kick to his chest sent him several feet down the hall.

Breathing heavily, Meisner surveyed the damage with a heavy heart. For all his training and strategy, he had been outplayed, outmaneuvered, he comprehended. Sending both Trubel and Eve with Burkhardt had been a fatal mistake. One he would most likely not survive. Leaning down to an older member of their organization that had fallen in the command center, he sighed. The man had just celebrated the birth of his granddaughter, one that he keep at a distance for his family's protection. That granddaughter would never know him now.

His phone rang, disturbing his grief, and a voice stated, "Go ahead, answer it." Looking up to a very familiar face, Meisner registered a new level of betrayal, as Renard slowly walked towards him. "You might want to tell him what happened."

"Eve," he responded into the phone.

"Are we too late?" She asked in an affected voice.

"Yes. Don't come back," he warned while Renard's expression grew hard.

"Are you safe?" Eve questioned.

"No," Meisner said simply. "I'm with Sean Renard. I think he wants to kill me." Through the phone, he heard Trubel yell, "No!" He prayed Eve and Burkhardt would restrain the younger impulsive Grimm from doing anything stupid as the line went dead. "You chose the wrong side, Sean."

"Oh, I never choose sides. You shouldn't either," Renard answered in his smooth tone. Still trying to manipulate the situation, Sean was more of a snake than he had realized. Oh Meisner knew the man was slippery, but he was hoping some shred of loyalty and decency existed in the half-Zauberbiest. He was wrong. "It doesn't have to end here," Sean continued to try and convince him, but Meisner knew this organization Sean had aligned himself with better than Renard did. He had studied them, making the destruction of their agenda his life's work, and now that life had been betrayed by a former comrade.

"Black Claw is Wesen only," he replied to Sean with a sympathy at his naivety. The new mayor had accepted the carrot they had dangled in front of him, not grasping the consequences of his ambition.

"For you, I think we would make an exception," Renard returned smugly. However, another voice rang out in the room that wiped that look off his face.

"There are no exceptions," said a Zauberbiest that had just entered the room. Bonaparte extended his clawed hand as Meisner felt a force constricting his neck and squeezing his head as if it was in a vice.

"That's enough," Sean said firmly.

"Stay out of it," Bonaparte growled back before Meisner could hear the rushing of blood in his ears. Locking eyes with Renard, he registered that Sean was starting to understand what BC had required of him. His soul, and as Bonaparte said, there were no exceptions.

"I said that's enough," Sean stated with conviction, but the pressure only increased as his head felt it would explode at any second. Now Sean understood, Meisner thought in the moment of clarity that comes before death. Renard looked over at the Zauberbiest and back at him, but Meisner never broke eye contact knowing only Sean could end this for him, if he could find the compassion in his heart. He saw the moment of decision in the clench of Sean's jaw, just before he whipped out his sidearm and granted Meisner his release. No more wars, no more conflict. It would be done, finished.

The sound of the gunshot rang in his bleeding ears just as the bullet entered his chest and his vision gave way to a blessed oblivion.

The End.

** Tears brim my eyes as I type these last lines of tribute to the solider, the warrior, the protector, Martin Meisner**