"You have to be kidding me." I mumble to myself. After everything my wife and I have been put through over the past 48 hours, this is what it all comes down to. Slightly confused, pulse rushing, mind swirling, I try to decide what my best move of action would be. I can feel my palms begin to sweat and my mouth going dry. The bleak thought of death rushes through my mind and I feel as though I am going to pass out.
BANG! BANG! Am I dead? Have I been shot? I don't feel anything. Wait, that is just it. The hands restraining my arms and the gun against my head had vanished. I turn around and both of the men are dead, with perfect shots to the head. I glance around and no one is there. Unnerved, I find the car keys in the dead FBI agents pocket and get into the black sedan. Sitting there waiting for me is a man in familiar looking trench coats and fedoras.