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The airbag was one of the two things that saved my life. Would I have been knocked out by the crash, I would already be in their hands.
The second thing was the ditch. They needed a while to turn around, stop their car and climb down here. When they reached my car, I was already a hundred yards into the wood.

I'm clearly running for my life, even though I don't know who I'm running from. Russians, who found out that I'm no longer their prisoner? The Mexicans, because they 'lost' me, in return for such a lot of money?
I don't get the awful thought out of my head that these two guys are neither Russians nor Mexicans - they are US agents, pursuing me I don't know what for.

I'm running for my life, but I get tired soon. I'm not used to it any more. I'm only slowly recovering from the past six months, even slower than I had thought. There are no powers that could keep me running.

I go on. I have to run, because I don't have any weapons that I could face them with. It wouldn't be a wise idea to shoot at federal agents anyway. That could bring me straight back into prison. Is it that what they want? Is it a provocation that'll give them a reason to lock me up again?

I have no time to think about this now. I need to go on, even though it already hurts. The air stings in my lungs. My legs feel like they're burning.

The forest isn't that big. Thereafter there are a few industrial buildings. They are perfect to hide. I pick one and climb onto its roof, choosing that one because it leaves me a few options to get down from the roof again, in case these guys have the same idea.

I lie down flat at the rooftop, right next to my head there's a lamp mounted to the small parapet. It lights up the open parking lot below the building and it's also a hot spot. They won't see me if they have infrared binoculars. They'll only see the lamp.

Even though it hurts I have to calm down my breathing. I can't afford to make one single sound.

They're approaching.

I dare to look down and spot two black clothed men. They have their firearms drawn and walk across the parking lot. There are ten industrial buildings around this parking lot. They can't search them all.
Ten minutes later, they seem to give up. They damn look like US agents.

I keep lying where I am. Maybe they're just waiting for me to make a mistake. They're waiting down there, because they believe that I'll come out of hiding.

Bite me. I know your tricks. You're playing it by the book: Standards and Tactics by Larry McKenzie, 4th edition. I once knew that one by heart and I still remember a lot.

They stay. I stay.

After an hour, they begin to doubt themselves and make the next move, as in the handbook: they pull back into the forest.

But I know that they're still keeping an eye on this whole complex.

I have time to stay. The night is young, it's not even midnight yet.

I keep lying there for three hours.
I lost all my stuff. Everything that was in the bag in my car. I only have a few credit cards in my pocket, and a wallet with a few hundred dollars. My passports are gone. My clothes. The phone. Going back to the car is not an option. That's what they probably expect me to do. It would be a trap. The police has already arrived at the scene of the accident, I'm sure. Another trap.

The things I'm wearing now seem still okay, despite the accident. It won't attract too much attention when I walk through the town.

I don't even know where I am or where to go. They know that I don't have a car. If they have enough reinforcements, they'll be posted on the closest motels and public transfer stations. I have to avoide those.

But if I avoid these, there's not much left where I can go.

I finally climb off the rooftop at a dark corner and stick to the backyards, as I walk away. I need to get as many miles between me and the scene of this accident, before dawn comes.
The area with these industrial buildings soon comes to an end. There's another interstate route and behind it, already the noble part of the city begins. I can't walk into there. I'd be the only dark spot in this place, the only one out on the streets, and there's no cover.

But around me, there are only good parts of the city. To the north, there's a fort. I can't go there. It's surrounded by a mighty fence and constantly guarded. Would be a bad idea. I can't go back into the industrial area and I also can't go back into that tiny piece of forest where the remains of my car lie in the ditch.

I have to make a decision.
But all too late I realize, that I've run into another dead end: they know that I have nowhere to go. This time, I played it by the book, giving myself up: running exactly to the end of that industrial area, where I'm now trapped.
I should go into one of the buildings, to take cover, but I'm afraid about accidentally setting off an alarm. That would serve me on a plate.

I have to find a car somewhere that I can steal, to get away from here before they come here.
There's a van, parked on the other side of the street. Taking this one would mean to give up my cover to get there. I'd be visible from the whole street.

As I start running, a car suddenly turns around the corner. I haven't seen or heard it coming.

For the split of a seconds I'm blinded by the headlights.

But then there's only darkness again.

I'm not sure how much time has passed.

When I come to myself again I'm inside a small room, instead of the street. This is awful. My head feels like it got caught between two crashing trains. I feel dizzy, but I'm not sure if this is only caused by that crash. Have they given me something? I haven't seen them yet, but there has to be somebody. I didn't get here by myself.

I'm all out of breath though I haven't done anything. What the hell is going on here?

That room is empty. It's a basic holding room. Four concrete walls, concrete ceiling, an unbreakable lamp, a toilet and the chair that I'm sitting at. No, I'm not sitting here- I'm half way hanging over the armrest of that chair.
As I try to sit up straight, my head starts spinning again. This is not normal. The picture in front of my eyes is blurred. Panic is slowly starting to take over, as I'm still searching for the reason for all this.

I hear somebody call my name. Someone's here. Wearily I turn around, there's really a man, having crouched down next to me.

Are you okay?, he asks me. He looks really worried.

Who are you?, I ask back. He doesn't answer my question.

Are you okay?, he asks me again, worried, Shall I get you a glass of water?

I decline. Where am I?, I manage to breathe, while I'm trying to fight that awful dizziness. He acts like he's my friend. But he isn't. My hands are tied to the armrests of that chair. I manage to lift my left arm until the chain stops the move. Why..?

You were thrashing around wildly when you were unconscious, he explains, even shows me the keys in his hands, to the handcuffs.

Where am I?

You have a bad brain concussion. Move as little a possible.

That answer is not good enough for me. Damn it, where am I? He was already on the way to unlocking the cuffs around my arms, but he stops as he hears the harsh tone in my voice.

You're safe here.

I am not safe here. What kind of nonsense are you telling me? You're putting me into a holding cell, you're tying me up and now you really expect me to believe that shit? I would have wanted to shout at him, but I don't have the power to do it. Instead of a shout, my words are only a gasp.

You had an accident, he says.

Yes, I know that. I try to think back... What the hell happened? Why did I get unconscious again, waking up here?

You had a car accident, he repeats, your car went over the edge of the road and fell into a twelve feet ditch.

The memories are slowly coming back. A car rammed me, I gasp. Now I remember. I got hit by someone. They were following me, hunting me down, hours after I ended up in the ditch.

The man sighs and gets up. Now he's talking to someone. There must be somebody else, standing behind me. I try to turn around, but my neck hurts. The pain in my head almost makes me get sick. That must be the concussion.

Give him some more, I hear him say, and the panic comes back. I want to scream and shout out loud. Hell no, stop it. Get a grip of yourself again, Jack! Shouting is not gonna help you!
My pulse is close to 200 I guess, only due to hearing that sentence. I'm trapped.

The man bows down to me again, to inject something into my arm. This can't be anything good. He's wearing a white coat, but that man is no doctor, for sure. I'm not in a hospital. I'm not safe here. It's them who were following me, who made me crash.
Why are you doing this to me, I ask him. They're obviously Americans.

He doesn't answer.
Instead, he pulls out a syringe and tries to inject something into my arm. All the struggle is in vain. Soon the second guy also grabs me and holds me down.

I shout at them, to tell me who they're working for and why I am here, until whatever they inject into my arm kicks in. The world that was horrible gradually turns into pure well-being.

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