Sasha drove back home. Sunday at home in Compton. Ding Suarez lived with his partner Carlos Ruiz. The Police sergeant had kept his private life completely separate from work. After his retirement the couple had started to foster kids. Sasha was their third foster placement and so far only permanent adoption. A decision to adopt had been made after the Sasha had packed all his belongings and cleaned his room on the eve of his sixteenth birthday with the expectation of being placed in a half way house. The other kids they fostered went back home or onto more suitable prospective adoptive parents. They currently were fostering Miguel a twelve year old gang member and eleven year old Luisa, whose Mom was in hospital undergoing cancer treatment.

Sasha's beat up truck pulled into the driveway behind his dad's Ford Taurus. The man drove an ex police car, even now seven years after retirement. A replacement bought from the pool every two years. Connections. The cars were ridiculously cheap. Suarez always got one driven by IAD. No blood, urine or vomit stains nor any internal wear and tear. The worst damage was a spilt cup of coffee. IAD cars were always clean with the least milage over their lifespan.

Suarez waited for his son to exit his truck. His tall blond so very un-hispanic son except his lovely dark brown eyes. Six years ago, Sasha had come round after surgery mumbling in Cuban Spanish about the market in Santiago. When his social worker asked about his past the kid spoke in generalizations, no family names mentioned, no addresses or schools, all in perfect Cuban Spanish. "You OK?" said the man in English.

"Yeah. Fine, Dad" said the young man, lost in thought. They walked into a typical LA house. Large wooden built, three bedrooms, large open space living area, basement. Everyone else was out. "Sorry for disturbing your day" said Sasha like he'd just realised he was home.

"Distracted?" Suarez was concerned. "That cop do something?"

"Umm Crews? No. He looks like someone I knew... before." Alex said looking earnestly at his dad.

"Before huh." Suarez tensed with that one word. They would talk later. When Sasha had gotten over his shock. Ding Suarez hated that word, before. Hated all the crap that went with his son's awful past. He'd first seen Sasha in the hospital in 2002 as the initial foster placement. The whole incident at Saviour's had been a media and diplomatic nightmare. The four younger kids had been returned to Russia. Sasha had stayed in LA, after refusing to give his full name or to talk of his past. Afraid to.

"Can I go lie down? I need to get myself together."

"Sure." Ding Suarez fingered the card with Crew's number.

Suarez walked into the Lucky Seven Bar. He knew Mitch the barman, ex cop, invalided out of the LAPD after a bad hostage situation. Ding did not drink, he had and still kept his social visits to the functions he could not get out of. He had friends, but he was a very private person. Not that anyone had ever commented about his lifestyle to his face. Any rookie that had regretted it as no one else joined in or laughed at their jokes. Ding was a good man, a good Samaritan but he knew the system, turned a blind eye when needed. He had helped more than a few colleagues out of tight spots. Getting them help. Never once asking for anything in return.

The Bar was empty on a Sunday afternoon. Family time. "Yo Ding. Crews' is in the back. Don't hurt him too much. Captain Tidwell likes him." stated the barman cheerfully.

Crews was sat in the back room at the Lucky Seven and simply greeted the ex-cop, "Ding."

"Charlie" Suarez had not known Officer Crews well prior to his conviction. As a patrolman, Charlie Crews had been a career cop, more interested in downtime and home than work. The case against Crews had seemed black and white as reported. Crews after his release and promotion to Detective and had a startling, driven, unorthodox but successful career on the homicide/robbery team. Not withstanding the three investigations by IAD in two years and two by FBI. The man was a good cop but the book was thrown out of the window, the man was never going to back down. Never take the easy path. "What did Sasha say this morning? Hernandez said he spoke to you in Russian."

"I had it translated. Umm, first 'You look good for a dead man' and then 'So, Yassen why are you dressed as a cop?' "

"You remembered what he said?" Suarez was amazed that the man could recall something that Sasha had probably just whispered.

"I have had dealings with Russian's before. I thought the kid had crossed Roman Nevikov's path."

"Maybe. We still don't know who trafficked the kids or how they were smuggled into LA. Nevikov was a suspect but that man was like teflon until you got you're claws into him Sasha doesn't know who was responsible. He was abducted off the streets in Moscow in early November 2002. He was a fifteen year old thief, a pickpocket, con artist. The others were taken before processing by Russian Children's Services. All were orphans. So, Sasha thought you were Yassen Gregorovich, back from the dead."

"How does your son connect to that terrorist?"

"Don't chase this Crews. Don't bring those people back into Sasha's life. Leave it alone. If you want to know more, talk to Sasha. Its his secret to tell. Not anyone else. He was shocked by you're resemblance to that bastard, so he slipped up." Fifteen year old Sasha had told Children's Services very little. It was assumed he was half russian and half cuban. With no papers, no missing person's reports and no family history except 'my parents died when I was a baby'. They had made him a ward of the State. He was a US Citizen now.

"Nevikov can't hurt Sasha anymore." Charlie said earnestly. A man protecting his kid was something he could understand completely.

"Other people, just as dangerous and unscrupulous as Roman Nevikov, used and abused Sasha. They are who I'm afraid of."

"These people aren't Russian, are they?" guessed Crews.

"No. Some are very close to home." said the marine cryptically.

Crew nodded. "Last time we talked you called me rookie, three and a half years on the force I was still a rookie."

"Now you're a Detective. See you round Charlie."