Cold-Blooded Barista

A SIP OF DANGER

The night air was heavy with humidity as Rizal and Ucok walked away from the warehouse. The dim streetlights barely cut through the darkness, casting long shadows on the cracked asphalt. Ucok kept glancing over his shoulder, paranoia creeping into his bones.

“Zal, this is insane,” he muttered. “We’re talking about taking out Adi Sutrisno. That guy doesn’t just run businesses—he owns the police, the politicians, hell, probably even half of Medan’s criminals.”

Rizal exhaled slowly, eyes fixed ahead. “I know.”

“Then why the hell did you say yes?” Ucok hissed. “Pak Haris just put a target on our backs.”

Rizal stopped in his tracks, turning to face his friend. “Because if we don’t take this job, we’re dead anyway.”

Ucok opened his mouth to argue but shut it just as quickly. He hated it, but Rizal was right. Saying no to Pak Haris wasn’t an option. They were already deep in the game. The only way out was through.

With a reluctant sigh, Ucok shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, what’s the plan?”

Rizal’s jaw tensed. “First, we find out who Adi is meeting in Jakarta. If this deal is as big as Pak Haris says, Adi won’t go alone. He’ll have his top guys with him.”

Ucok nodded. “And how do we get that info?”

Rizal smirked. “I know a guy.”

They arrived at a high-end café in the heart of Medan, a stark contrast to their usual hideouts. The place was modern, sleek, and filled with businessmen discussing deals over overpriced coffee.

Ucok raised an eyebrow. “This doesn’t feel like our scene.”

Rizal ignored him and walked straight to a corner table where a man in a crisp white shirt sat, sipping espresso. His neatly trimmed beard and polished demeanor made him look more like a corporate executive than an informant.

“Damar,” Rizal greeted, taking a seat.

Damar set his cup down and adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. “Rizal. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Rizal leaned forward. “Adi Sutrisno. I need to know who he’s meeting in Jakarta.”

Damar smirked. “Big fish you’re chasing.”

Rizal didn’t respond, just stared.

Damar sighed. “Alright. I’ll need 48 hours. Adi’s circle is tight, but I have sources.”

Ucok crossed his arms. “And what’s your price?”

Damar grinned. “Oh, just a small favor down the line.”

Ucok groaned. “I hate those kinds of deals.”

Rizal, however, nodded. “Fine. We’ll be in touch.”

As they left the café, Ucok shook his head. “I swear, one day, these ‘small favors’ will bite us in the ass.”

Rizal smirked. “That’s a problem for future us.”

The next night, Rizal’s phone buzzed. A message from Damar:

"Meet me at the old docks. Midnight. Come alone."

Ucok read the message over Rizal’s shoulder. “Yeah, that doesn’t scream ‘trap’ at all.”

Rizal tucked his gun into his waistband. “I’ll be fine.”

Ucok scoffed. “You always say that.”

Despite his protests, Ucok insisted on following from a distance. Rizal rode his motorbike to the docks, the night air thick with the scent of salt and rust. The area was nearly abandoned, save for the occasional flickering streetlamp and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.

Damar was waiting near an old shipping container, arms crossed. His usual confidence was replaced with unease.

“Rizal, you need to listen carefully,” he said, voice low. “Adi’s meeting isn’t just about business. He’s finalizing an arms deal.”

Rizal’s brows furrowed. “With who?”

Damar hesitated. “A group from Thailand. Black market suppliers. If this deal goes through, Adi’s firepower will be unmatched.”

Rizal absorbed the information. This wasn’t just about money—Adi was gearing up for war.

Before he could respond, a clink echoed in the distance. Footsteps.

Damar’s eyes widened. “Shit. We’ve been followed.”

A gunshot rang out. BANG!

Damar dropped to the ground, clutching his side. Blood pooled beneath him.

Rizal spun, drawing his gun. More shots. BANG! BANG! He ducked behind a crate as bullets ricocheted off metal.

Ucok, hiding nearby, fired back. “Rizal, we need to move!”

Rizal grabbed Damar and pulled him behind cover. The informant gasped for air. “Go,” he rasped. “They were waiting for us.”

Rizal clenched his jaw. “I’m not leaving you.”

More bullets whizzed past. Tat-tat-tat!

Ucok cursed. “We won’t survive a shootout here. We need an exit—now!”

Spotting an opening, Rizal hoisted Damar up. “Ucok, cover us!”

They sprinted towards Rizal’s motorbike, Ucok laying down suppressing fire. Bang! Bang! The gunfire finally ceased as they sped off into the night.

They reached an old warehouse where Rizal and Ucok often laid low. Damar was pale, sweat dripping down his face.

Ucok grabbed the first-aid kit. “Damn it, Damar, stay with us.”

Damar coughed. “You… owe me.”

Rizal applied pressure to the wound. “Who set us up?”

Damar’s eyelids fluttered. “Someone… close to Adi…”

His breathing slowed.

Rizal’s chest tightened. “Damar! Stay awake!”

But Damar had lost consciousness.

Ucok sighed. “We need a doctor.”

Rizal’s mind raced. Whoever had set them up knew about their meeting. That meant Adi had moles everywhere.

And if Adi knew they were coming…

It was only a matter of time before he made the first move.

The hunt had officially begun.