Camshron rushed inside a café when he realized the two goons had already hit the street.

Trying to not cause any panic among the people having coffee, he walked like a normal being in there even with an ear piece visible to everyone.

Nathan Camshron made his way to a table where a key was laying.

Not even caring about security cameras, the man in tuxedo picked up the key and ran out of the café.

Nobody shouted at him.

It meant he was not caught.

Camshron marched for the parking lot after having a look at the tracker in his mobile screen.

They are not very far. Camshron was glad to know.

He pressed the button on the block, which was hung on the key-ring.

A vehicle beeped somewhere.

Outside the parking lot.

Camshron had lifted the key of a motorbike instead of a car.

Glancing at the screen again, he realized he didn’t have much time to think, so he ran for the bike and twisted the key as soon as he sat on it.

"My bike!" someone came out from the café with his hands in air.

But Camshron hit the gear and set off for the street.

He affixed his mobile phone in front of the speed indicator and began following the signal.

Camshron was going to break some traffic rules for sure.

He did it instantly.

He took the motorbike to the other side of road where he began riding in opposite side of every automobile.

The step he had taken seemed to work because the distance was getting shorter and shorter.

Soon there came a time where it was tough to have a look at his phone screen without bumping into side mirrors of other vehicles.

When he saw a small gap between two moving cars, he slid his way through them.

Now he was right behind the car which he had been following.

Camshron turned the accelerator harder.

The car stopped in the middle of road.

His bike hit the car's back from its front wheel.

Camshron cart-wheeled in the air twice.

For a second he thought he would land on roof of the car but the hard pavement of road welcomed him.

Camshron thought himself lucky to still be standing on his feet.

While the car left, Camshron made the fallen bike upright.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Indicators and some other parts were shattered.

Even his phone.

It was not working.

Shit! He started the motorbike again, realizing he couldn’t track them anymore.

He had to show utmost faith in his eyesight and judgment now.

As far as he knew, he had spotted the dented back of the car somewhere.

Camshron drove to the flyway, hoping the men in the car had taken the same panic route.

And he was right. They had taken the same path.

But they were down on the street, forty feet under him.

Camshron went across the bridge in full speed and jumped along with the stolen bike.

The two thieves were somewhat relieved when they descended to the normal road from the flyway.

"He had an ear-phone in his ear." The Russian mob yelled at his driving partner.

"His car is great." Another goon laughed, "I've never driven something this smooth. This car is worth all the mess."

"Where do you intend to sell this?"

"Anyone would buy it. I will feel horrible while tampering this beauty-"

A motorbike fell in front of them.

Driver pressed on brakes on time but the car rolled over the bike, regardless.

"For God's sake-"

Something landed on their roof.

Still the roof didn’t bend.

Camshron rolled down to the window with Colt in his hand.

"Come out." Camshron gasped, "This vehicle belongs to DSA services of CIA."

"We didn’t know." The driver said in most Russian accent possible.

"Boris is right. We had no clue you were a CIA agent."

"Step out you scums." Camshron had never been this furious since weeks, "And keep your hands in the air."

Nathan Camshron's earpiece beeped.

He pressed the button, "Camshron speaking." He said by watching the Russian goons walking out of the government owned inventory.

"Mr. Fernsby here. Be in DSA headquarters by 7:45." said Department of Secondary Affairs' Director.

Camshron glanced at his watch.

Sharp hand showed seven forty-one.

He sat inside his car, mourned for his spilled coffee and accelerated on his way.

The Russian mobs watched the CIA-DSA Agent leave.