The Bed You Make
Chapter 25, concluded
Young undercover cop Craig Munson vigorously scratched his head. He was pretty sure he had lice; the scratching had kept him awake for most of the night. He was glad it had or he wouldn't have been wandering the area and seen the unusual happenings going on at the docks to Spoon Island. Somewhere around one in the morning a cluster of dark-suited giants escorted a passenger from the Cassadine launch and saw her firmly into a waiting limousine.
The passenger was Helena Cassadine.
Munson had never seen Helena Cassadine in the flesh before, but there was no mistaking the woman who perfectly matched the descriptions given by Commissioner Scorpio and Detective Taggert. She moved gracefully in the midst of the giants… like some kind of queen, Munson thought. Which, he shrugged, she probably was back in Russia. Fellow cop Alex Garcia had tried to explain the Cassadine family tree to him, but he'd lost interest when Garcia went off on a tangent about his friend, the A.D.A..
He'd have to remember to get a message to Garcia in the next couple of days. Munson was certain that the intense detective would be interested in the unusual occurrence he'd witnessed. Detective Taggert would be interested as well.
Munson's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the daily delivery trucks to Spoon Island rumbling around the corner. He glanced around, surprised to realize that it was nearly dawn. He had lost track of the time while scoping out the area.
He made no delay in vacating the alley. The area surrounding the Cassadine docks was off-limits to the young undercover officer. Commissioner Scorpio hadn't declared it so. No, on Munson's second day undercover as a derelict, he had awakened to the coldest set of eyes he had ever seen. Their owner, squatting effortlessly in the alley next to Munson, calmly instructed him to vacate the area and not return. The man went on, in heavily accented English, to outline the limits of Munson's ventures through and around the docks the Cassadines occupied.
It was Munson's ability to ‘read' people's characters that made the young officer invaluable as an undercover agent. Munson often joked that he had nothing else to do but polish that particular skill. What he saw in the eyes of the Russian giant that day made him commit the man's words to memory. It was apparent that the man was not accustomed to repeating himself.