December 2008

Charlie Crews had his third partner in a year, Detective Mike Roswell. Jane Seever had decided to join the FBI task force trying to sort out the mess the death of four FBI agents and Roman Nebikov had caused. Danni Reece had passed her lieutenant's exam on her first try and had been transferred to run her own station. She and Kevin Tidwell had decided to move in together. Crews had not spoken to his former partner for weeks. She was busy and happy. Crews had stopped even leaving messages. Tidwell passed on Crews' greetings and told Crews about their home and plans.

Crews did not like his new partner. Roswell was the type of cop who liked the easy ride, the type that went with the crowd. He reminded Crews of the CO in Pelican Bay who just kept pushing Crews even though Crews had his place in the pecking order after seven years inside. The bastard should have known better than attack a con in an area with no surveillance and on his own. Crews had not been that brutal. The CO didn't return to work at Pelican Bay after that. Word was he was a bit of a basket case.

It was early in the morning, a dawn surfer had found a body on the beech at Venice. Guess what, Roswell was late.

The body had not been in the drink long and had a bullet hole in the skull. The kid who found the body was being looked after by the patrol officers. The young man was sat on the sand shivering in an expensive wetsuit. His board on the sand by the patrol car. As he approached, Crews noted the kid was speaking Spanish to Officer Hernandez. The surfer looked a true Californian, tall, lean and blond. The kid looked at Crews and paled, The young man then spoke a short sentence in Russian, smiled and then continued as if he expected Crews to be able to understand him.

"Detective Crews, this is Sasha Suarez." Hernandez then lowered his voice. "You remember Sergeant Suarez at the Academy. This is his adopted son."

Crews did remember Suarez. Ex-marine. Tall, grim, no nonsense. Every cadet and rookie on the force had been scared of him. He must have retired while he was inside. No one crossed Suarez. Even gang members were respectful to the man who was a decorated marine gunnery sergeant, who taught self defense at youth centers across LA, had coached little league and was a community leader.

"So Ding is you're dad?"

The kid smiled at the use of his dad's marine nickname "Yeah, well. He fostered me when I was fifteen." The kid said still looking at Crews closely, as if reading him.

Crews pulled out an apple and began to eat it, watching mirth flicker into the kids brown eyes and Sasha shook his head. Crews then asked "What did you just say, you know when I first arrived?"

"You look like a guy I used to know. A russian dude." The kid looked at the ocean with the same intensity that Crews looked at the sun in those few moments of clarity and peace. The kid then fixed the detective with an intense glare "Did you know you look scarily like Yassen Gregorovich? I mean darker hair, you don't move the same, different voice, but you do look like him."

"Yassen Gregorovich huh? Should I know him?" asked Crews.

The kid's body language changed again. Closed off. "No. He died in 2001. He ... he was a friend of my birth father's. Its complicated."

"OK, Sasha." They then talked of the body. The kid had first thought it was a drowning surfer. The kid had pulled the body out, before noticing the head wound. The kid went to get changed and would give a full statement at the station.

Crews was not surprised when Ding Suarez was stood next to Sasha when he arrived back to his desk. Ding gave Crews the evil eye, but then Crews noted he gave everyone the evil eye except his kid. The man fussed the kid. That was something Crews never expected to see.

Crews took the statement, got his hand crushed by the retired Sergeant and the kid smiled at him observing the power play taking place. After he filed his paperwork, Crews looked up Yassen Gregorovich on the system. The picture of a corpse showed up on the Interpol file. Terrorist attack on Air Force One in London, August 2001. Assassin working for Scorpia and a list of known hits and associates. Then Crews looked up Sasha. The Church of the Saviour incident Thanksgiving 2002. Five russian kids, trafficked for the sex trade had turned up at the church asking for help. Youngest a six year old boy, a ten, twelve and fourteen year old girls and a fifteen year old, badly injured Sasha. The kid had turned down a city commendation in 2003 after stopping a school shooting incident. Sasha now lived off Wiltshire Blvd, Little Russia in LA. Worked as a photographer's assistant, Karate Instructor and tutor of languages. Twenty one years old. Ding treating him like he was ten and the kid let him. Sasha Suarez was more interesting than the case. Crews then thought of the now, got himself back in the moment. Minor drug dealer shot dead. Deal gone bad. The perp would most likely be the next body on the slab.