Snippet #2238884

Pushing the guy with two fingers, he keeled and slouched down in the leather booth seat. He wasn't going to be up for hours . . . maybe she had put one to many pills in his coffee . . . nix that, one couldn't put one too many in in a situation like this. Closing the laptop Darcy looked over her shoulder at the Barista. The girl was a statue she hadn't moved since Darcy had entered the place, really into whatever she was reading.

Grabbing the laptop in her gloved hands, Darcy stepped out of the little Café hit by a cool breeze that swept through her hair as she headed around the corner to the alleyway next to the building and threw the laptop into a giant dumpster. She was satisfied when the computer hit the bottom and resounded a metallic bang as it hit the empty bottom.

She felt a little bad for throwing the boys laptop away but it was safer for him and for her. The heels of her gray boots echoed in the snowy empty alleyway as she made her way back to the main street but the sound of her shoes clicking was soon replaced by the sound of rushing vehicles heading this way.

A small crowd of bystander had accumulated on the corner of the street next to the Café as half a dozen black tinted SUV's and other militaristic vehicles pulled up and officers in suits and uniform emerged with raised guns.

Darcy watched with the group heart pounding in fear . . . until a delicious smile spread across her lips and she pulled her iPhone out and started recording the agents coming out of their vehicles and heading into the Café as if some world class terrorist was holed up in there and they were just about to capture him. Why should she fear for, this was her game of hide and seek.

Watching and waiting, Darcy recorded the goings on for a few minutes. She had to physically restrain herself from laughing out loud when one of the agents stepped out of the building dialing a number on his phone and talked to who she could only guess could be Andrew Scott.

“Sir, there's no one inside of interest. Two civilians who I don't believe are the culprits . . . A young man of eighteen or nineteen, seems like he's been drugged. We can't wake him no matter what we try and the young women who was running the place said she hadn't seen anything suspicious.”

The agent winced as abuse hurled down the line at him and he listened patiently.

“Yes Sir. I'll keep them here anyway . . . Right away Sir.”

Darcy had caught it all on camera. This would be very useful, she thought as she made her way back to her car, a smile plastered to her face, or at the least very entertaining.