He'd been sitting in his car across from the adult bookshop for almost two hours. The second cup of coffee had proven to be an error in judgement; the caffeine had seemed necessary as he'd felt his focus slipping—but now he found himself in need of a restroom. There was a small copse of ornamental bushes along the side of the liquor store. It wasn't ideal but would maintain his line of sight on the bookstore.
He'd just returned to his car when he saw Miroslav coming out of the alley with three young girls in tow. He downed the last of the coffee, and rechecked his spare clip. He trailed them on foot from a block behind for the eight blocks to a seedy looking four-story tenement building.
Gingerly he climbed the four flights arriving at the top as Miroslav unlocked the last of three padlocks. Moving quickly, he moved into position placing the barrel of his weapon against the base of the man's skull.
"I would actually prefer to shoot you so feel free to resist."
"I have money, drugs, women, guns—take whatever you want," Miroslav said as Kuryakin forced him into the apartment.
"What I want," Kuryakin responded, "is to know you will spend the rest of your life locked in a cage like the animal you are." He forced Miroslav to the floor and handcuffed him to the radiator.
"You are safe now," he told the terrified girls. "Help is coming." He tried repeating it in Russian, which a few of the girls understood and then Polish and Spanish. He saw the flashing lights announcing the arrival of the police he'd called when he entered the building.
"Fourth floor—scene secured," he called down to them. Then gave Miroslav a single, perfectly targeted, kick to the groin.
"Are you sure you want to walk away from the collar on this?" the young police officer asked Kuryakin. "This is the tip of a huge iceberg. The heroin, the money, the girls. Seriously, this is a major bust—a career maker."
"Actually, officer Mueller, this incident is peripheral to a larger operation that would be severely compromised if my name or organization were to be attached to it, so I'd appreciate your discretion in the matter. You'll arrange for the girls to be taken care of?"
"My cap is on the horn with social services and they're arranging transport and medical for them now."
He checked is watch. It was almost four am. He could grab something from the dinner around the corner, get a few hours of sleep, a quick shower and be in his office by mid-morning. If he could get all of the case reports finished today it might smooth Napoleon's ruffled feathers.
It was half past three when he finished typing the last of the reports. He left Napoleon a brief message telling him there was no need to come in tomorrow and that the completed reports would be on his desk awaiting his signature when he came in on Monday.
He had another few hours of his own paperwork to complete but his stomach was protesting audibly. There would probably be some coffee in the lounge, and with a little luck he could scrounge something from the refrigerator.
He called Moira again but there was still no answer.