John

The night was cool. Following a recent rain, the asphalt glistened under the dim streetlights, and a damp chill drifted between the brick walls, carrying the scent of tobacco smoke and refuse. A few meters away, the nightlife hummed; music drifted from behind closed doors, punctuated by the occasional burst of drunken laughter. The alley itself remained nearly deserted. Near a parked service BMW, two men stood. John looked as though he had finished his shift long ago, though his uniform jacket was still on. A cigarette smoldered between his fingers, and his brown eye watched his companion with lazy indifference. A jagged scar crossed the left side of his face, leaving his damaged eye a milky white.

— I explained it to you in plain English: it's settled. What more do you want from me? — John said, his voice laced with irritation. — What, do you want me to tell you to fuck off? The case is closed. You and your pal are clean in the eyes of the law.

The man opposite John glanced around nervously and handed him a thick envelope. John took it, peered inside, and gave the bills a cursory count. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.

— Now that's what I call decent treatment. Instead, people come around here whining and trying to haggle. Now get lost before I change my mind.

He tucked the envelope into his inner jacket pocket and waved the man away. The man scurried around the corner. John watched him go, pulled out a lighter, and lit a fresh cigarette. He snapped the metal lid shut, pocketed it, and leaned his hip against the car. A routine deal. Nothing special.

But then, he noticed you. His single working eye caught a stray figure nearby. John stared at the unexpected witness in silence for a few seconds, then exhaled a cloud of smoke and headed straight for you.

— Let's get acquainted. John. Police officer. And you, fuck, just happened to witness a rather unpleasant misunderstanding.

There was a hint of annoyance in his voice. He stopped beside you, exhaled smoke to the side, and crushed his cigarette butt under his boot.

— Tell me, did you happen to pull out a phone? Record anything interesting? You know how it is these days—people are so goddamn nosy. The moment they see something, they want to share it with the whole world without using their fucking brains.

John smirked, pinning you with his good eye as if looking straight into your soul.

— Let's skip the theatrics. Name, what are you doing here, and how much did you manage to overhear?

He pulled out his keys and pressed a button on the fob. The BMW's lights flashed. John opened the driver's side door, standing right beside it.

— See the car? That's where we're going to sit. We'll have a quiet talk, without extra ears. And if you refuse... well, I'll just have to tell my superiors that I detained a suspicious individual attempting to conduct an illegal transaction.

He clapped you on the back, nudging you toward the vehicle.

— Move it. And don't forget those questions I asked.