Kasamatsu waits, the silence echoing in his ears. The only sound he can hear is the soft scurrying feet of a small creature - possibly a rat - foraging for food.
For a moment, it’s easy to believe that the place is empty - not counting his presence - except that he knows that his men are waiting in place. He’s the one who set up the markers on the board back at the precinct after all. It had been his job to make sure that they were safely hidden, yet be near enough to move quickly during the final execution of this operation.
Minutes pass. The informant is late, and Kasamatsu’s beginning to suspect that something has happened to him. Not that he hadn’t expected this - for all of his planning, there had been risks. If no one turns up in the next five minutes, he might very well kiss his promotion goodbye.
He breathes evenly. A faint hint of wind tickles the hairs at his nape, and he feels an itch beginning to form at that very spot.
The seconds tick by in Kasamatsu’s mind. The itch continues. Unable to stand it any longer, Kasamatsu allows himself to move, pulling his hand out of his pockets slowly to reach behind his head.
The air shifts slightly again, and he feels the wind against the back of his hand. Kasamatsu freezes, realization dawning slowly. They’re in the warehouse, in the dead of the night. None of the windows and doors are open, which means that there shouldn’t have been any wind--
The soft clink is all the warning he gets before the warehouse is filled with blinding light, and smoke. Instinctively, Kasamatsu drops down onto one knee, his hand already reaching for his gun when the back of his head is struck. Pain flashes through him, and he falls, black enveloping his sight and senses.
When he comes to, Kasamatsu finds himself surrounded by his men, with worried looks on their faces.
“Kasamatsu--” Moriyama begins, but Kasamatsu interrupts him curtly.
“Did the informant turn up?” he demands.
The uneasy looks and awkward silence is enough of an answer for him.
“Damn!” Kasamatsu swears. He had been so close--
“You might want to take a look at this first,” Moriyama tells him, handing him a mobile phone that looks suspiciously like his.
Kasamatsu stares at it, his hand already reaching into his pocket, his fingers wrapping around nothing. As Moriyama watches him, his eyes curious, Kasamatsu tugs the mobile from his hand and swipes across the screen, unlocking it.
There’s a message already waiting in his inbox. Check the roof the instructions read, simple enough. Whoever has left that message, however, had added a small wink at the end. For a brief moment, Kasamatsu wonders at the kind of criminal who would leave messages with a wink, the type that he’s seen popular among schoolgirls - before he remembers the content of the message. Swiftly, he barks out his orders, and his men move swiftly.
Up on the roof, they find the informant unconscious. He’s alive, although he’s bleeding from a cut on his forehead, and will probably need medical attention. That isn’t what draws Kasamatsu’s attention, however.
There are boxes of coffee stacked up in a row along the roof. A brief look into one of them confirmed his suspicions: these are the drugs that Kasamatsu’s team had been searching for. The ones that the informant had said would be shipped out to America, tonight.
And securely tied up, gagged and unconscious, are the two ringleaders of the group in charge of producing these drugs, with a piece of paper stuck to their foreheads, the smiling wink clear and stark against the white sheet.