The policeman set off on a run back the way he had gone. Despite his words to the criminal, he knew six men was too many for him or Sophia alone. On a good day he might have been able to deal with them, properly prepared and armed, or perhaps in a favourable environment like his last hotel room, but on a dark street, at midnight, lightly armed, drugged and drunk, he didn't fancy Sophia's chances. The drug in his system was slowly leaving his body, though he was far from sober and level headed yet. He didn't know how far he had gone, or how far he had left to go. He didn't want to run straight into the situation, but nor did he want to go too slow and leave Sophia to the chances of a gang of low-born thieves or worse. As he ran, he remembered the two glasses Sophia had drunk, compared to his one. Perhaps she hadn't been drugged. Perhaps her glasses weren't spiked. But better safe than sorry. Perhaps she hadn't noticed it – in fact, perhaps her somewhat more refined palate couldn't distinguish shoddy beer from drugged beer. She could have ended up far worse than him. Van rounded the corner at a run, then had to scutter back around it. Ahead of him, down the street, stood the six other thugs he had been told about. Inside their circle stood Sophia, swaying dramatically. One of the thugs made to grab her, but she reached forward and twisted his hand round, eliciting a squeal. Another made a lunge, but Sophia moved, less than gracefully, out of the way, reaching inside her cleavage as she did. As the thug in front of her struggled to remove her grip from his hand, Sophia withdrew a USP, full size. Van had no real idea how she had secreted it down there. While her bosom wasn't of an inconsiderate size, it wasn't large enough that a USP could be comfortable down there. Van shook his head. Sophia pointed the weapon at the man she had just evaded.

'Get back' she slurred. Around her, the thugs seemed to be moving away. Sophia gave one last twist to the thug whose hand she still held, and he dropped to the floor moaning as she released him. For a moment it seemed as if she was going to be okay. Then Van saw one of the gang reach in a pocket. All of the criminals followed suit. Soon Sophia was faced by a large ring of small revolvers and semi-automatics.

'Drop it, bitch' said one of the thugs. 'Just give it up'. Sophia threw back her head to laugh. Van suddenly realised how drugged she was, and how much self-control it must have taken to draw the pistol at all. He began to edge round the corner. As he did, though, one of the thugs saw him. He and another shouted 'Look' and opened fire. Van ducked back around the corner as poorly aimed shots hit the wall and pavement. Sophia swung around, and in that instant the thug who the floor, who she had crippled, grabbed her legs and brought her down. Two of the remaining thugs dived on her, wrestling her gun away. No shots were fired, for even though she was drugged, Sophia had been subjected to enough training not to keep her finger on the trigger. The sixth thug drew another pistol in his off hand and began advancing down the street firing intermittently, and to little effect, with both pistols. His fusillade of fire did force Van to stay behind the wall, but was more dangerous to his friends than to the policeman. One of the two men firing at Van's hiding place went down with a bullet In his knee, screaming 'You shot me, you bastard!'. That was five left.

Van ducked down behind the wall and then stuck his left Tokarev wielding hand out into the street. He fired off a few shots, forcing the more sober thug left to retreat to the semi-cover of the lamppost illuminating the firefight. His drunker dual-wielding companion was still doing his best to uselessly empty both his guns in Van's general direction. Van ducked round and put two well-aimed shots into his leg. The man dropped, but seemed too drunk to really realise he was supposed to stay down. He fired the last few bullets from both guns at no real target, and then began futilely clicking the guns at anybody near him. Van was near enough off the drug by now, the gunshots having removed any of the lingering traces, at least for now. His opponents were not well armed, tough admittedly nor was he or Sophia. He could hear her screaming from the floor and the three thugs tussled with her. Despite their considerable advantage in numbers she appeared to be putting up a good fight and near enough holding her own, though Van hoped she could hold out until he had dealt with the last offensive armed thug focussed on him. The man in question was firing off intermittent shots from some sort of revolver, perhaps a Colt Python. Van tried to bullet-count, but found he had no idea how many shots had been expended. He decided to risk a bullet, and darted out into the streetlight. The thug fired off a round at him, but as Van had guessed the gun, supposed to be a precision marksman's pistol, had not been cared for properly, and the weapon did not shoot straight, to say nothing for the accuracy, or lack thereof, of the wielder. The bullet went wide and stuck in a wall uselessly. Van ran forward as the man tried to reload the weapon. He didn't want to take any chances, and when he was perhaps only three or four paces from his opponent when he fired, emptying the clip. The shots hit the man in arm and leg, and clipped his chin, and he slumped down to the floor, overcome by shock and injury. Van scooped up the Python and cartridges which the thug had been attempting to load, snapped two into the cylinder, and began to run over to Sophia and her assailants. One turned as Van approached him, but the policeman blasted him aside. His uninjured colleague went for a gun, but Van crossed the distance between them and kicked the street criminal in the ribs, rolling him off Sophia. The man put his hand out for a weapon, but Van stood on it and shot him at close range with the second bullet. He threw the revolver aside and heaved up the last man on Sophia, the one she had twisted the hand of. The thug turned and hit him, knocking Van onto his back. Van struggled as the burlier and stronger thug pinned him to the ground with two hands round his windpipe. Van had been in this situation twice before, and he knew what to do. He smartly raised his hands and brought his forearms down on those of the thug, breaking the hold. The thug was still on top of him, so Van applied a punch to his throat too, causing the man to gag. There was a pause as the street thug tried to gain an advantage by getting up to try and kick Van with his hobnailed boots. Van squirmed out from under his opponent. As the thug rose, however, Van lunged for the forgotten dropped USP of Sophia. The thug saw, and leapt too, but it was too late. Van grabbed the pistol. Seeing it was too late to fire, he simply smacked the man with it, knocking him over. Van wearily got to his feet. The thug crawled backwards. Van pointed the pistol at him and simply said 'Run'. The thug obeyed. The policeman hawked and spat, then brought the pistol to bear on the fleeing figure. 'Dead men tell no tales' he mused, then fired, bringing the man down. Van hauled Sophia to her feet, slowly. She swayed, and he had to support her. There was no way he was going to be able to get her back home: he didn't even know where she lived. There was nothing for it but to take her to his, much as he despised the loss of security which came with showing her his home. Supporting most of Sophia's weight, Van staggered back the way he had come. He would rest her up, sober her up, and then they could leave on Thursday.

The Inspector was furious when he heard.

'This could have jeopardised everything you two were sent to do!' he shouted over the phone to Van, when the latter called him the morning after to explain. So far, Van hadn't had the chance to explain much. The Inspector hadn't let him.

'With respect, sir…' Van tried to intervene, tried for once in his life to be polite, but his Director was still furious.

'You have a pivotal mission in less than a week, and you go out drinking! Here in the seediest part of town! What were you thinking?'

'Sir…' Van began, waiting to see if The Inspector interrupted again, but this time he seemed to be listening. 'I don't think you're looking at this rationally. We were attacked, I had no choice. I could have left Sophia, but that wasn't an option to me.'

'Instead, you left seven men on the ground, most of them dead. Van, it got out of hand. Admit it.'

'Yes, but simply put, I didn't have another choice. Inspector, I need you to trust me. Just let it lie, we'll do the mission, and then afterwards you can critique me if you want.' Van sighed. He didn't want to have to deal with this. He'd saved Sophia, wasn't that enough? On the other end of the line, the policeman also heard The Inspector exhale deeply.

'Okay, okay. Just don't fuck it up again, Van. I'm trusting you.'

'Yes sir' replied Van, and hung up.