"Target in sight," my partner whispered through the coms. "Ready to fire."

We had been hunting this particular villain for weeks, all alone on a secret mission to capture or eliminate the target. This guy was dastardly, and all we knew was that he had some sort of special concoction. We didn't know what it did, though.

"Fire," I said calmly. Later, it was my deepest regret.

The target whipped something toward us as we fired, something that looked like... a coffee cup? It hit the ground and exploded, sending chunks of debris into our hiding spot. Thick white smoke filled the area.

"Thompson!" I called, choking.

"Here, sir," came a whisper, and Thompson's bloody hand grasped my arm. I scooped him up, cradling his head.

"Don't you die on me," I hissed. "Don't you dare."

"Here," he said, pushing two special-issue vials into my hand. He has come up with the formula himself, but we hadn't managed to test them before this mission. "Take these. I fixed the flavour so it won't taste so bad as my last formula."

"But it's a new formula! It hasn't been tested!"

"It's your only hope," he grunted, frowning.

"No," I shook my head. "You're coming with me."

"Use the brew, and I'll always be with you," Thompson smiled weakly, before going limp in my arms.

"Noooo!"

With tears falling down my cheeks, I broke open one vial and swallowed the cool and slightly bitter mixture within. Instantly, power flooded my veins, and I headed out with one last look at my companion.

A week later, I had the target cornered. "Give up, Charles. There's no escaping."

He cackled maniacally. "But I have this!" He cried, lifting a coffee cup and chugging down the contents.

He twisted and grunted with new power, and I knew it was my last chance. I opened the other vial and swallowed the liquid. A scent of coffee and the sound of Thompson's voice surrounded me, and I knew I had what  it took to finish this mission.

<—>

The target had been recaptured, and his collection of illegal coffee-makers had been destroyed.

I had been awarded with the Timothy Hortenson medal of honour, but it wasn't the same without Thompson by my side.

And so, I slipped away one day to visit his grave.

"You should have seen it, buddy," I sighed, sinking to the grass. "It was amazing."

I smiled, setting the cup of Tim's Cold Brew I had brought on his gravestone. "They made a drink in honour of your special formula. It tastes just like heaven, and it reminds me of my best friend. I'll drink it every day."

Wind blew through the trees, and I could almost hear Thompson laughing beside me.

"Thank you for everything, friend. I couldn't have done it without you."

Leaving, I took a sip of the signature Tim's Cold Brew, knowing that as long as I had this coffee Thompson would never be far away from me.