Crisis at the Coffee Shop

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'ello readers! I preset to you another short story with Carter and Blake!


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"So, how come we were called in by the agency?" Carter asked Blake, who was typing away on his laptop.

They sat in a coffee shop, where the aroma of brewed caffeine and baked goods filled the air.

"It's a last minute mission that no one took up earlier. Someone famous is going to be stopping by here, incognito and he or she has taken something that belongs to us. And we need to protect whoever this is from any haters of fans."

"Who's the celebrity and what is the target?" Carter leaned forward, now very interested.

"I don't know who it is but the target is a data file disguised as an earring," Blake then added flatley, "and no, you cannot blow their cover by asking for their autograph."

"I won't ask for their autograph for the whole world to hear, jeez do you think I'm that loud?"

"Yes, yes I do."

Carter rolled his eyes then eyed a cookie that a worker handed a customer. "What kind of coffee do you want?" he asked, his mouth now watering.

"A vanilla frappuccino."

"Anything else?"

"Nah, I'm good."

Carter brought out his wallet and waited anxiously in line for what seemed to be like hours. He heard the bell at the door ring but before he could look, the man at the front desk was already asking for his order. He shifted toward the checkout counter and watched as they put together creamy goodness and grab a chocolate chunk cookie from the tray. A teenage girl brought him the treasures, saying, "Are you the one who ordered a vanilla frappuccino, chocolate cookie and a peppermint latte?"

"Indeed I am," Carter leaned against the counter, trying to look cool. After he payed, he winked and thanked her.

As soon as he turned around with both hands full, he ran into something solid. The impact caused the hot liquid to go flying from his hands and splattered on the person that he had rammed into.

Carter's eyes widened at the sight of one celebrity that he labeled under the category, 'Freak of Nature.' He cussed and Carter growled an apology as the girl from the desk came up with a mop and paper towels.

"I've got this," she told him.

"Nah, this is mostly my fault, I'll help," Carter insisted.

"Are you sure?"

Carter took the paper towels from her, "Positive."

After they cleaned up the mess, she demanded to replace the coffee on her, and continued on when Carter protested. She handed him the drinks with another thank you and Carter thanked her and hurried over to Blake, who had watched the whole scene with a humored smirk, "Well, looks like you made a friend."

"I know right?! She even gave me her number by writing it on one of the cups."

"And as you noticed, our celebrity has arrived. You wasted your accident on him."

"Blake, is he," Carter pointed rudely in the celebrity's direction, "the one we have to steal from and help?"

Blake chuckled, "Why don't you just ask for his autograph?"

"Blake!" Carter whispered yelled, "It's not funny! I seriously think we should let the papierosy man-handle him!"

"Hey, at least it makes sense now why nobody else took this mission. And besides, the agency will pay us a hefty price if we follow through with this so deal with it."

"Still, that guy has more haters than fans, and I'm speaking as a hater myself. How long do we have to watch his hideous figure?"

"Till he leaves this shop, we've got to obtain the chip and let me just tell you now that we aren't the only ones after it," Blake nodded his head toward a man wearing shades.

"What is on the data file?"

"Classified information. Either way we have to get it before he leaves or we fail the mission."

"At least we got our coffee," Carter sighed, taking a long sip of caffeine. "This is going to be a long few minutes."

"I'll admit this is the WORST mission we've taken yet."

"I'd much rather diffuse a timed bomb than do this," Carter agreed.

"Our target is still in the bathroom."

"He really doesn't realize how much that cream and sugar helped that doll face and blonde head of his."

They noticed that someone in the store had also gone into the bathroom. Blake slammed his laptop shut. Carter looked at him quizzically, "What?"

"Our target is probably being assaulted by now."

"And that should concern us how?"

"Not a good time for this Carter," Blake told him in an annoyed tone while rushing into the men's bathroom.

Carter groaned and followed after him. As Blake predicted, the celebrity was being held at gunpoint and the man holding the gun was not the man with the shades, but another man, dressed in sweats and flip flops, and scruffy looking. He turned to look at them and asked, "What do you want?" in a rough tone.

"Dude, this is a bathroom, there's two options on what TO DO if you know what I mean," Carter held his hands up and smiled at his own cleverness.

"I can't let you go after what you both have witnessed," he replied, not having a clue what the boys were snickering about.

"Sir, I seriously need to go so if you will just let me," Carter took a step toward the stall then froze when he pointed the gun at him.

"I'm sorry but you'll have to hold your position until I say so."

"I don't think I can hold it much longer," Carter whined.

Blake held in a laugh as he tiptoed to where their celebrity stood, shivering and pale with fright. He put himself in between him and the terrified little man and drew his gun.

"I don't know what you two are playing about, but stay out of my business and worry about yours."

"It's our business that we're worried about sir," Carter replied, his feet dancing.

"Hands up!" Blake shouted, his face trying to stay serious.

"I'll warn you now that he is much more serious about his business than I am," Carter smirked.

"I should have known you boys were too calm to be any stand-by citizens," he grumbled, throwing down his gun.

"Oh no sir, you weren't completely wrong. I am standing by, waiting to do my business," Carter assured him.

"You really had to go?" Blake frowned.

"I really did."

"Who are you two?" the celebrity asked.

"We're just haters doing you a favor," Blake replied.

"Would you like a job as a security guard? I'm going on a tour pretty soon and it's hard to find-"

"Sorry, I'm not into pop," Blake interrupted. "Are you done Carter?"

"Yep, and where are the handcuffs?"

"I thought you had them?"

"You know you can't trust me with something as important as handcuffs."

Blake face palmed with his free hand.

"We could do it the old fashioned way, with some rope-"

"Where are we going to find rope?"

Carter thought about it then nodded in agreement. Then his eyes lit up, "Can we borrow your handcuffs sir?" he asked the man.

"I'm sorry but I don't have-"

Carter pulled them out of his pocket, "Thank you very much," and began cuffing him.

"You didn't even let me respond."

Blake smirked.

"Hold still and this will be much faster," Carter told him in an annoyed tone.

"Are you sure you don't want to-"

"YES!" Carter and Blake cut the celebrity off.

"I don't want to go to a concert with horrible pop music and I'm not going to just draw away haters and fans and clean up puke when you end up drinking too much alcohol," Carter clarified.

"That was just one time," the celebrity muttered.

"And where's the earring?" Blake asked, staring down the celebrity.

After both hands were cuffed behind the man's back, Carter searched him and found no sign of the data file.

"I already searched him and he didn't have it," the agent told him.

"Where is it?" Blake asked, glaring at the pop star.

"I threw it out. It sparked after that idiot friend of yours spilt coffee on me."

"Hey, in my defense I wasn't expecting you to appear behind me," Carter told him. "And it was my pleasure to mess up your doll hair."

"Carter, keep him held at gunpoint, any sudden moves, take him out," Blake ordered, handing the gun to Carter. He walked over to the trash can and found the data file buried underneath coffee stained paper towels. He showed the earring to Carter before he placed it in his pocket.

"I expect good money for this waste of time," Carter commented.

Blake dialed a private number and connected to a secret communications network.

"Who gave you access to this private number, what's your explanation?" an agent demanded.

"I'm Blake Butler and code mission 'Bieber' has been completed."

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