Carlisle stepped onto the pavement. A dozen bystanders immediately raised their glowing smartphones, eager to record the coffee shop drama.
“Step away from him, Mia. Now,” Carlisle ordered. He played the part of the outraged boss perfectly for the cameras, but his right hand was buried deep inside his jacket. Gripping something heavy.
The cold voice on the phone whispered in Mia’s ear, “Stall him. We have a visual.”
Mia planted herself between her manager and the bleeding giant.
“You’re fired!” Carlisle yelled for the audience. But as he closed the distance, his voice dropped to a lethal, barely audible whisper. “Move, little girl. He has a drive in that vest. It belongs to my employers, and neither of you are leaving this sidewalk alive.”
The tattooed man coughed, slipping a bloody silver flash drive from his pocket and pressing it into Mia’s palm.
Carlisle’s eyes went dark. He lunged, drawing a sleek, suppressed pistol from his coat.
Mia didn’t flinch. Instead, she spun around, holding the drive high in the air, directly toward the wall of recording bystanders.
“Hey, internet!” Mia shouted, pointing squarely at her boss. “Get a close-up of the gun!”
Carlisle froze in panic. The phones zoomed in. He was trapped in the crosshairs of a dozen live feeds.
Before he could pivot, three black SUVs violently hopped the curb, boxing him in. Heavily armed tactical agents poured out, weapons raised.
The biker leaned back against the brick wall and smirked. He spoke into the phone’s speaker with absolute authority: “Operation Sunrise Ember is complete.”
Carlisle dropped his weapon, realizing too late that the biker wasn’t a botched hit. He was the bait. And Carlisle had just broadcast his own federal takedown to a million live viewers.
Mia tossed her stained apron onto Carlisle’s shoes. “Keep my final paycheck. I think I just found a new line of work.”