The rest of the interview is sort of a blur in memory. I heard the guy say something about Iran and bombs and a river. I tried to gather as much information as I could, but my mind was racing. The next thing that I clearly remember is being told that I was going to be moved to a house outside of the country.
For the first time, I wondered what in the world my family must have been thinking at this time. What had they been told about my absence? If only I had some way of seeing them.
It was somewhere in the course of this train of thought that I remembered that I still had the memory chip inside my pocket. The people I was with obviously didn't know that I had it. After debating with myself over whether or not I should give it to the, I realized that I really didn't know who the good guys or bad guys in this were. Until I found out, I decided that I would keep the chip with me.
Within an hour, I was led outside and into a black limousine with tinted windows. The guy called Bert got in first, then me, then some other huge guy. I wasn't sure how far we would be going, but I didn't enjoy the thought of spending any length of time in a car between these two guys.
Not a word was said for a good half-hour. I spent most of the time going over the events of the past few days, trying to piece together what few puzzle pieces I had. After 30 silent, uneventful minutes, I heard tires screeching ahead of us, car doors slamming, and some shouting. The two guys surrounding me got rather tense, and the limo slowed down to a stop.
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