Jonathan ran through a side alley in the heart of the city. His khaki trenchcoat fluttered behind him as he looked back over his shoulder to try and catch sight of his pursuers. They were always just behind him. He could not get away.

As if on cue, two men in very fine black suits and sunglasses stepped out from doorways on either side of the alley right behind him. Jonathan did not now who they were or why they were following him, but he did know that he did not want to be caught. He continued running, in slow motion.

The two men in suits continued behind, at an almost casual pace, but always right behind him. It was maddening, like something out of a dream, or a movie trailer. He reached into his coat, feeling the heavy weight of a pistol there. So it comes to this.

Jonathan dashed out of the alley and onto the street just as a car swerved to hit him. He reflexively put his hands down to protect himself and rolled up onto the hood of the car, smashing the windshield.

And then the guitar music started.