Chapter 1

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There was nothing special about the coffee shop in the plaza just off the main road. It wasn't a household brand name; It didn't even serve good coffee. It was dark outside, a thicket of shadows making the headlights of the passing cars look like search beckons in the night. The windows were large wide, offering a wonderful view of the parking lot. The neon sign flickered.

No one had come inside in half an hour. The cashier was busy wiping things down with a sanitized rag and humming to the music in the back ground. The customers minded their own business for the most part. They were spread across the store front like scattered snowflakes, silent, with an eerie sense of anticipation wafting off all of them.

In a corner booth sat a man, half Indian, with curls as dark as roasted coffee beans. He dressed himself in a curious pink button down and didn't seemed too worried at the time of night. His fingers danced along the edge of the table, keeping the beat expertly to the music playing in the background. Lying on the table within easy reach of himself was a flute.

It was hard to miss the girl that was hovering at a table nearby. She donned a rich dark blue sweatshirt with the hood tugged heavily down over her head. Her long blue hair flowed from underneath it, like a sapphire river, and she watched the other customers with silver eyes while biting her bottom lip.

In complete contradiction, it was almost impossible to notice the man who stood at the island, adding sugar to his coffee. He was tall, just over six feet tall, but his presence was that of a shadow: he folded into himself, when someone looked at him, and he eyes downcast as if he was nothing worth noting.

Another man that stood at the food counter, under the pretense of looking at the baked goods for sale. He waved off the cashier when the by tried to ring him up, and instead wore a calculating look. With his dark skin and dark hair paired with his leather jacket, he seemed rather intimidating. The cashier left him be in favor of wiping down the counter as far away as possible.

The girl at the table closet to the emergency exit had dirty blonde hair and striking hazel eyes. She her knee bounced with anxiety as she stared at the table in front of her as if she should be somewhere else, doing something else entirely. At first glance she looked harmless. At second glance, anyone could see the dagger on her hip.

A fierce looking teenager sat next to the window, staring absently at the parking lot. He didn't seem all too nervous, but his tense shoulders suggested he was hiding something, along with the brutal scar that ran from his eyes to the middle of his left cheek. Both his hands wrapped around his hot chocolate cup, but it seemed like the drink had already gone cold.

The final occupant was female, with short dirty blonde hair. She seemed to exist in her own little world as her eyes wandered from customer to customer. Her expression flickered ever so slightly, as if she was absorbing information about each person without them even knowing.

There was nothing special about the coffee shop at first glance. It seemed that the sender of the text message was running late, or that the receivers of the message had truly been lead into an ambush. It was impossible to tell either way.

It's been an hour since the texts came, and not one has come after it.

If there was an MDO in the store right now, it would be near impossible to pick him out of the rest....

***

Start the main chain here :)

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