54.

I would like to be able to say that Allison and I had a great talk, that we worked out the problems plaguing our relationship, that we were finally reunited with a long, passionate kiss, sitting in that car, but I can’t.

We didn’t get to the conversation or the kiss.

As I was gazing in pained love at my estranged wife, two black sedans pulled up rapidly behind and in front of the car, cutting off our way out of the lot. My initial response was to gear up to blast Agents Smith and Smith for this intrusion. I knew that they had been tapping my phone and keeping me constantly under surveillance, but they were usually polite enough to stay back, settling for the occasional sheepish wave when I forced them into it. But this, this was unacceptable! And at this moment, of all times!

As I opened my mouth to protest loudly, it hit me that the black-suited figures emerging rapidly from the cars were not my CSIS agents. Before I could say a word, strong hands were hauling me out of the car. I felt a jab in my thigh. I looked over at Allison in anguish, as she was being pried out of the passenger side. Allison had the good sense to fight back. She wasn’t normally that strong, but some desperate mother-to-be instincts seemed to have kicked in, and she was definitely giving them a hard time. I started a roar of rage at their treatment of her, but felt myself become strangely numb and sleepy. I felt myself being tossed into the back seat of one of the sedans. As I began to lose consciousness, I felt a muffled surge of hope as I looked out the sedan’s tinted window.

As we pulled away, I saw that a third black sedan had pulled up behind the second. It was Agents Smith and Smith. And they definitely weren’t letting these mystery men take Allison. Agent Smith had forcefully stepped in between the kidnappers and Allison.

My heroes.