Jim Ellison drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the music. His cerulean blue and white truck nearly flew down the highway as Jim drove back to Cascade. He had been in Seattle at a seminar for police work. Blair Sandburg, his partner had other duties and could not join him. Jim Ellison was a cop with the Cascade Police Department. He had an advantage over other cops; his 5 senses were enhanced. He could see, smell, taste, touch, and hear far more then the average person. Blair Sandburg was his guide as well as his partner. Sandburg helped him focus and use his senses, watching to make sure he didn't "zone out". Zoning was the term for what happened when Jim focused on one sense to the exclusion of all others.

Jim had been bored out of his mind at the conference. The speakers were monotonous and nearly put him and other conference-goers to sleep. Jim couldn't wait to get home where there would be excitement, even if all he had to look forward to was paperwork.

Turning back to driving, Jim watched the signs looking for his exit. Suddenly his sensitive hearing picked up a sound in his engine, a very bad sound.

His engine proceeded to sputter then stop running.

"Shit! I am NOT in the mood for this!" He exclaimed to no one in particular, giving his car his patented Ellison glare, which could reduce hardened criminals to mush, but did nothing to intimidate the truck.

Using the momentum of the truck, he turned his blinkers on and guided it to the side of the highway.

"Only 2 miles from Cascade and my truck goes and dies on me! And now I'm talking to myself!" He immediately shut up and got out of his truck. Walking up to the hood, he opened it then stepped back quickly as he got a lungful of steam. Coughing slightly, he uselessly fanned at the engine, waiting for it to cool.

A few minutes passed and the engine continued to spew water vapor and steam. Jim was considering calling a tow truck when he heard the distinct sound of a car motor. It stopped. Then he heard two car doors open and footsteps walking toward him.

"Car trouble?" a man asked. He was nearly as tall as Jim with greasy black hair and gray eyes. His companion was a few inches shorter with blond hair and brown eyes.

"Just a bit. I think I have it under control here." Warning bells were ringing in Jim's mind. These two were up to no good. ~Why did I leave my gun in the truck~ he thought.

"Are ya sure? We'll take a look, make sure everything is A-OK," the blond man said with a nasal voice.

"Really, I've got everything under control." Jim once again tried to reassure them.

"If you say so," he said. Jim heard the black-haired man behind him walking up to him. He moved to turn around when he felt pain explode in his skull. He slid to the ground as everything went black.

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