He gasped to see the violence happen so close to him and the car seemed to have deliberately struck the woman on the desolate city street. Jason knew instantly that no one could have survived such an ordeal. He ran to the woman though, hoping maybe he could help. By instinct he checked her vital signs. Although he was a med student, he had never seen a body so bruised and broken like hers. She was petite, her suit a pale red color...or was that her blood soaked on her clothes? Gasping for air at the site of such a gruesome scene, he tried to find some way to identify her. Then he saw the tiny box clutched in her delicate hand.

He took it and looked up only to see the headlights of a car gunning toward him. Could it be the same car? He ran away from the street to safety in a small alleyway. There he saw the ambulance lights and policemen rush to the scene. Had he been imagining the car? Why did he feel so nervous? Shaken, he walked away, only after walking four blocks did he realize that he had the box still in his hand. What was it, he thought?

"Excuse me sir." An ominous voice said out of the dark. "I believe you might have something I need." A flashlight shone in his eyes then rested to reflect the badge the man was holding. It said F.B.I.

Jason stuttered. "What?"

"Were you a witness to an accident tonight, son?"

Jason's eyes widened. How could he have known? No one had seen him. The car?

He ran...only hearing in the background, the man's voice, "Don't son! They'll hurt you! Come back!"

Inside his tiny apartment, he felt safe for a moment. Opening up the package, he saw a small computer storage device that attached to a USB port. He turned on his laptop and attached the drive. Information began to flow. Information he instantly recognized as very sensitive and very important for his country's national security. The plans were intricately detailed of how to destroy major landmarks around the United States. His heart pounded deeply as he realized the implications if this information was not received by the C.I.A.

Suddenly though the computer shut off, the lights went dark. And the only thing to be heard in the apartment were two shots muffled by a silencer and the thud of Jason's body hitting the floor.

And of course, that deep ominous voice on his cell phone, "The situation has been contained, sir. Yes. No copies made. The plans can continue. Yes. We'll begin."