Delft, July 10 1584,
The prince of Orange had just had dinner with the mayor of Leeuwarden. He was pleased to learn what his subject from far away Friesland had had to tell, and the two men had eaten well. As his nickname suggests, William the Silent was not a man of many words, so it may well have been the mayor who did most of the talking, but no-one knows what was said between them, as more important things were about to happen.

William, the noble freedom-fighter was famous and well liked amongst the Protestants. He had delivered them from the Spanish fury; from the inquisition which demanded heretics to be burned at the stake.
Yet amongst the Catholics he had made his enemies. His followers had taken their churches and destroyed their holy statues, and though in general the prince's troops were tolerant to other faiths, there had been autrocities. The Sea Beggars, a bunch of pirates who suported the Protestant case, had slaughtered many priests and monks, inspite of the prince's objections.
Fighting the mightiest empire in the world, he had little choice but to accept all support that was offered, even when it was from these merciless outlaws. But because of their actions, the war had grown bitter and cruel. The Spanish had retaliated with the complete destruction of a number of the towns, and revenge followed upon revenge. Religiously inspired violence was added to the cruelty of medieval warfare, and not even babies and old women were spared.

William whished the mayor good night and left the room. Just as he was a few steps down the stairs though, a young men came rushing towards him. William recognized him as the French nobleman that had delivered the message of the count of Anjou's death once, but this time there was a harsh expression on his face. In both hands he carried a gun and before the prince could even speak a word, the smoke of gunpowder  filled the air and a bullet pierced his chest. And another, and yet another. Three bullets went right through his body and left bloody traces on the wall behind the Silent.
So violent were these shots, that till this very day the holes in the plaster can be seen...
Pikemen grabbed the assasin and dragged him down the stairs.
The prince, knowing his death was near, uttered his last words in French: "Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, ayez pitié de moi et de ton pauvre peuple". Thereupon he collapsed.
The murderer showed no remorse whatsoever.
" Is he dead?", he cried.
" No", the guards told him, and they saw the disappointment on his face.
Of course Bathasar later found out that his action was succesful, as he was brought to the courtroom. Still he did not show any sign of regret. He had been promissed 25000 crowns by the Spanish king, but even without this reward, he would have killed the Protestant leader, and he only regretted that he did not had the chance to fire all five bullets he had.
Thereupon he was branded, his heart torn out on the rest of his body was dismembered.

Hilversum, May 6 2002,
The independent politician had just given an interview to a number of reporters. Unlike most, these journalists had not been prejudiced, but instead they had asked sharp, but reasonable questions. Pim Fortuyn, the bald dandy was pleased that for once someone had not labeled him a right-wing maverick. It seemed the tide was turning, at last people listened to what he had to say instead of to what was said about him.

He was populair amongst the middle classes and the people living in bad neighbourhoods. At last here was a man who offered solutions to the growing problem of criminality, someone who was not scared of the politically correct bullies of the labour party.
Yet amongst the socialists, he had made his enemies. He had been accused of being an extremist, and was even called a fascist. Several people had threatened him with death and the ruling politicians despised him.
And indeed it seemed that his party was a gathering of weird people with strange ambitions. But he was battling the existing order and could use all support that was offered.

Pim walked onto the courtyard, gave a mini-interview to a beginning reporter and saw one of the journalists he had just spoken to, come after him. He had forgotten his presents. Fortuyn took the little box and shook the man's hand, when suddenly a young man came rushing out of the bushes.
Before the politician could react, a bullet pierced his head, and another, and another. Five bullets were fired and Pim Fortuyn, still holding the shocked journalist's hand, sank down in a puddle of blood.
His driver ran after the assasin, but it took some time before the police arrived and the murderer was apprehended.
He showed no remorse whatsoever, and when Volkert was brought to court it turned out he was an extreme environmentalist who had acted on his own account.
He was sentenced to 18 years imprisonment.