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The fist came down on the table, and sounds of splintering wood reverberated through the flat. Pieces of orange rind leapt off the table in unison and hung in the air amid the frozen looks of the men in red.

I looked around the room. There they were. They had finally come, and I knew why they were here. They were all wearing standard Goran uniforms. In addition, one of them wore single golden eagle pin on the left lapel, indicating he was the leader of the operation. The redness of their uniforms was broken only by their combat boots, black, spit shined. These were the people who had come for me.

Shards of orange peel finally fell and hit the ground, rocking back and forth until they came to a sudden stop.

"You. Come with me."

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