Doctor He Calls Master

Day 1: 𝙀𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧

Downtown New York had it's beauty marks, and then there was the ugly truths beneath it. Most people with level heads kept a weapon on their person at all times. With the crime rate spiking each day, one could never could be too careful. Around here cops typically kept to the city, protecting politians and city council members who were thought to be making a difference, but deep down were just as corrupt as the criminals whose faces were scattered on public news to sell a story. To distract the public from the reality.

Derek was sitting within his vehicle deep in thought about the latest finding of his current investigation on the Russian mafia when he noticed a couple leaving a jewelry store with horror stricken on their faces. They seemed to be in a hurry as they took across the street in a rush.

He cracked the passenger window and leaned over the center console ducking his head to get a better look through the glass and noted there was a small group of men inside. That may not have been entirely out of place, but then he noticed a woman clad in a knee high day dress and heels scurry out with the same look on her face.

"Yeah, somethin's up." He picked up his phone to call for backup, then froze when a gentleman stepped out. Tattooed hands and a mean mug, he was familiar from the many profiles he had been memorizing over the past two years. "Dimitri Novikov." He muttered to himself, tucking the phone back into his pocket. Russians. The time was now or never. He was either going to be shot point blank… or he had been given a window of opportunity that they were in the works of setting up. Fact of the matter was, the elderly couple inside were in danger, and Derek was the only one present who could get a handle of the situation.

He stepped out with only his cellphone and wallet on his persona. The badge and especially his handgun which had police force written all over it were left behind.

Dressed in casual attire with brown hair styled normally swept back, he looked like an average citizen walking in to possibly buy his significant other some jewelry. As he grew near, the sound of glass shattering made the situation much more dire.

It wasn't a large place. More like a mom and pop shop with genuine jewels that got sold off too cheap to make a real living. There were three men inside. One smashed the glass cases while another gathered money from the cashier drawer and the leader of the group had the owner, a small man maybe 5'3 and was elderly, by the collar as he shouted down to him.

The sight made Derek grit his teeth. Carefully he walked to the side of the building before slipping in the back entrance. Placing himself at the scene strategically enough to seem more like a customer just in the next room.

"Alright," he stepped into the main room, a space large enough he hoped they would have figured they just missed him before the three looked over in his direction, "you've made a point. They're giving you what you want, right? Let the man go." He glanced to the leader unapologetically. His hands to either side just to show he was unarmed and just trying to make a point when it looked like the store owner was having complications with breathing. The poor wife trembled defenselessly in a chair by some broken glass, looking as if she might just have a stroke if they kept at destroying their life investment, but also mortified knowing the medical history of her husband's health couldn't handle their ruthless behavior.

The Russian vigilante stuffing a black duffel bag with jewelry only took the pieces they knew were of greater value leaving behind a few earrings and bland rings. He glanced up when he heard English being spoken by a new face and smirked behind his black ski mask.