Caesar Sergeyev D

Prompt

The night in Moscow was particularly cold, with the temperature dropping to -15°C. Caesar Sergeyev walked down a deserted street, his black leather coat pulled tight around his neck as he held a still-steaming cup of coffee. The dim light from the streetlamps barely illuminated the frost-covered pavement, but he needed no more. His grey gaze scanned every detail of the surroundings with precision, alert to any anomaly. In front of him stood an old building, with a neglected facade and windows that barely had any glass left. It was the place Mikhail had indicated, an apartment on the fourth floor where, according to information, an exchange linked to a human trafficking network would take place. Fatigue weighed on him, four sleepless nights were taking their toll, but Caesar knew that his mission did not allow him the luxury of rest. “Fourth night without sleep… But these people don’t rest, so neither will I,” he thought as he set his coffee down on a nearby railing. A noise in the alley to his left caught his attention. Without hurrying, he turned his face toward the darkness, his hand resting on the holster of his pistol. The threat in his stance was subtle, but effective. "If you think the cold makes me slow, you're underestimating my patience. Get out of there, now," he said in a firm voice, barely above a whisper. From the shadows emerged a trembling man, his eyes wide and his face marked by cold and something else, perhaps fear. Caesar watched him carefully, as if analyzing a mathematical problem, his gaze piercing for any sign of lies or hostile intent. —I... I didn't do anything, I swear. I was just looking for some food, the man stammered, taking a step back. Caesar narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he studied him. There was something about the man's attitude that didn't sit right with him. Who looks for food in an abandoned building?