Thank you so much for the follows and review they made me very happy. I apologise in advance to Bucken-Berry for the bold later in this chapter, last time I'll do it promise.
Speech in bold and italics is Russian. Insert disclaimer here and please enjoy and review you know if you feel like it.
The Sex Trafficking Ring
Fin picked up the badge looking at who he thought had been Pavel,
"How come you didn't tell us about this?"
James shrugged his heavy Russian accent suddenly gone, "I'm sorry I had to string you along like that but I try not to carry my badge when I'm undercover. For obvious reasons and I didn't know you were going to be raiding us today."
Fin handed over the badge, "Yeah we got an anonymous tip off."
"From who?"
"Why is it important?" Amanda asked,
"Because those two you got in lockup aren't going to be helpful in taking down the prostitution ring or the trafficking ring."
"Then who is?"
"There was another man goes by Vankov, probably not his real name, he's in charge of the prostitution but he's not the one that brings the girls into the country. I'm not even sure who does they call him топор. It's Russian for hatchet. It describes the way he likes to deal with people who don't do what he asks."
"Well he sounds like a fun guy." Amanda commented,
"Yeah well, he's not. I was suppose to go to where he's holdup with Vankov and the now girls tonight. That was when I was intending to call in back up."
"So what you're saying is that we need to let you go back undercover?" Barba asked clearly unhappy with this idea.
Carter turned to the ADA, "I need to take this guy down I've been working toward it for six months."
Barba let out a small sigh before turning to Amanda and Fin, "Can we have a minute?"
"Sure." Amanda answered leaving the interview room with Fin.
James sat up on the interview table and looked up at the ADA,
"Rafael I need to go back undercover."
"Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in-"
"I did not call the cops." The blonde cut him off,
"Who did?"
"I don't know. Someone who lost their nerve."
Barba put his hands on his hips and frowned at the man before him,
"That's all you have to say?"
James stared at him for a moment before grabbing hold of his baby blue tie and pulling him down smacking their lips together. It was a split second before Rafael responded grabbing hold of the other mans neck deepening the kiss. Rafael was the first to pull away,
"That was really unprofessional."
"Yeah, too bad I don't care."
"You know they're probably watching through that glass." He motioned towards the one way mirror,
"Getting a show then aren't they." James laughed,
"You're a child do you know that?"
"Yeah you tell me that all the time."
Barba fixed his tie motioning towards the window for the detectives to come back in,
"Call me when you're out."
"Always," Carter flashed him a smile, "but first Pavel Chekov needs to make bail."
"You're Russian counterpart better find a good lawyer then."
Arraignment Court
"Councilor how does your defendant plead?" The stern face of Judge William Koehler asked the lawyer,
"Not guilty." Carter's now heavily accented voice answered,
The judge gave a sigh, "Very well, what do the people recommend?"
Barba looked towards the judge his calm exterior a vast difference from the sheer panic that was actually coursing through his mind,
"The people recommend remand."
"Objection your honor," Oliver Gates, piped up, "my client is not a flight risk, he has little resources to travel and doesn't even have a valid passport."
"Your client also has ties to the Russian mob. Or did you overlook that little fact?"
"Save it for your trial judge," Koehler barked, "bail is set at half a million," he banged his gavel against the table, "next case."
It didn't take long for Vankov to bail him out of jail once he was called. They were sitting in the backseat of the Russian's black escalade. Along with Vankov there was a young woman sat practically in his lap, she was stick thin, with pasty skin and a barely there dress. The worst part was even thought she was wearing a seducing smile she was dead behind the eyes. Vankov's usual blank face had been replaced with a mask of barely contained rage,
"What the hell went down in that warehouse?" Vankov asked his lieutenant,
"How am I suppose to know? I got arrested Vankov they're going to send me down for the prostitution ring."
"Don't concern yourself with it. The big man's got it covered." He smirked pointing his fingers to the roof,
"Who god?"
Vankov snorted, "No, Hatchet we get the privilege of his company tonight."
"Even without the girls?" Carter asked, suddenly concerned that the man in charge had more planned for them then drinks as they bask in their failure to deliver the girls,
"We did not have the only shipment coming in today."
"Of course. I forgot."
"It's going to be a good night," Vankov gave him a smarmy smile, "Might even get a taste of the merchandise."
Carter felt a spark of sickness run through him before it became a horrid feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach, he pushed past it to give the Russian a smile,
"That does sound fun."
The escalade came to a slow stop on the corner of 273 West Broadway not far from the Manhattan Broadway Hotel were Pavel Chekov resided,
"Go get your self cleaned up. You stink of that place, we'll wait for you out here." He flashed Carter another smile before groping the young woman.
Carter got out of the car wishing he could take a shower hot enough to burn the stink of Vankov's escalade off his skin but unfortunately for him the shower in his hotel room only reached lukewarm at best. He prayed for the day he could return to his own home. He opened up the door to his crappy motel room before pulling out his cell phone and calling his handler, who had been marked as 'Mom' in his phone,
"You got arrested?" The curt voice of Elise Marriot came down the line, Marriot was a stern faced Captain who had been on the job for more years then Carter cared to even consider and she didn't suffer fools,
"Is everyone going to yell at me today?" He bit back the stress of the job beginning to weigh heavy on him,
Marriot huffed down the line,
"I have liaised with Captain Cragen, the brothers are still in lockup and we are ready to move in on your word. What do you have?"
Carter filling his Captain in on the details telling her that he would let her know the address when he got there, she wasn't happy but sometimes you have make difficult decisions. He tossed his cell phone onto the ratty comforter of the bed before throwing his jacket and grey shirt in the same direction. The bathroom in the hotel was what could only be described as seventies style complete with the avocado colored interior and fake gold fixtures. The pipes in the bathroom groaned as he turned on the hot water for the shower/bath the blonde detective stripped off the rest of his clothes before stepping into the almost hot spray washing away the grime that felt like it was coating his skin.
As darkness descended the New York skyline Carter once again found himself inhabiting the role of Pavel Chekov and sitting in the black escalade that he was really beginning to hate. He had swapped his plain clothes for neat dark colored jeans and a dark red button down shirt with black loafers.
Vankov was once again accompanied by the same girl as earlier the only difference was that she had changed into a strappy, pink, glittered dress that barely covered her backside along with sky high stilettos.
By the time they were in down town New York the girl, who had introduced herself as Natalya, had migrated into his lap and was telling him stories of her sisters in broken English. The car came to a stop outside what appeared to be one of Vankov's brothels Carter followed Vankov and Natalya into the brownstone careful to stay behind them while sending a text to his superior. The inside was nice enough the walls coated in floral wallpaper and the floor was grey carpet, the scent of sex was mixed with cigar smoke and various perfumes that the girls had been doused in.
He followed Vankov into the back room of the house with would had traditionally been used for a dining room however this dining room had a woman laying on the table topless.
"You are the boy I've been hearing about?" The man who he assumed was in charge asked in a heavy accent,
"I assume so." Carter answered taking in the mans appearance. He looked to be in his mid fifties with thinning black hair, a beer gut and deep wrinkles adorning his face. The man let out a chuckle before lighting a cigar,
"Where exactly are you from in Russia?"
"Karachev." He answered. Pavel Chekov, thirty six, from Karachev, Russia, immigrated to the states pre-9/11, fallen on hard times at the loss of his job as a bouncer, has an aging mother back in Russia and sends money to her. The story had been hammered into his head over and over again until he'd known it by heart, he was used to becoming different people now. He wondered briefly how much damage that had done to his psyche. Carter had been so focused on his inner rambling he missed the mans reply and furthermore his next question. However before he had a chance to ask him to repeat it the front and back doors of the brownstone were kicked in.
This resulted in pure chaos girls were screaming and others were drawing their guns. Carter felt panic spike through him as Vankov drew a gun next to him and pointing it towards the doorway to the dining room, he noticed others doing the same. Shots began to ring out as the cops made their way further into the house, SWAT were the first ones through the door of the dining room. Carter watched as they took down Vankov with a bullet the others surrendered their guns and moved to cuff everyone including him. Rafael was going to be pissed.