A year and a half later.

Scott Carr exited Baldwin's Deli. The sun had begun its descent for the day, half peeking over the cities buildings. Sharp blinding sun rays shot through the spaces amid the structures of the city. A sense of relief washed over him, he was free for the day, clock punched and ready to go home. He flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt, shielding his freshly buzz-cut hair from a cool March breeze. No meat to slice, no sandwiches to build. He slid sunglasses over his blue eyes and put in his ear buds and Rage Against the Machine “Killing in the name of” blared his walk home music. Time to zone out, and power through the 3 miles walk home. A short 3 miles stood between him and his wife Jeanie and their 13-month old son Walker. Home with them was all he had on his mind, despite today being the day that his boss Mr. Baldwin promoted him to Assistant Manager, after six months on the job. Six months after Mr. Baldwin took a chance on a newly released convict.

Assistant Manager at the Deli was no dream job, but overall it wasn't so bad. It was a means to an end, stay on the straight and narrow, and save money while they live with Jeanie’s mom. Once Walker got a little older, Jeanie could get a job, and they would be able to afford their own place and a real legit wedding. Jeanie would never say so, but he knew she dreamed of a real wedding, not the courthouse ceremony they had, and he planned to give it to her. Straight and narrow he told himself. He used this as a mantra to keep himself focused on becoming the man his family deserved. It was the first time in recent memory that he felt good about the direction his life was heading. If only he knew his life would forever change in a few short minutes. The first in a series of dominoes would fall and keep on rolling, altering his and many people's lives forever.

He strode on the sidewalk and noticed two men standing in black suits and dark aviator shades. The men leaned against a black Cadillac SUV. They looked Scott over, or possibly the Rage blasting in his ears made him paranoid of authority-looking figures. Maybe he should skip to another song, perhaps something from his super-secret guilty pleasure, boy bands. Scott loved boy bands, NSync, Backstreet Boys, Boyz II Men, he loved them all. He flashed a smile and a slow head nod in the men’s direction; he looked down at his phone and switched to the playlist labeled Death Metal!!!, the title was designed to stop Jeanie from selecting it when she borrowed his phone for a run. He hit shuffle, and the soothing melodic sounds of “Tearing up my heart” flowed into his ear. He instantly felt better

He glanced up, and two men had walked directly in front of him. "Are you Scott Carr?" said one of the men looking at Scott. The man, a burly pale-skinned man with massive muscles, was standing at what Scott estimated as a towering 6 foot 6 inches. His suit was tighter than most men would wear it; the fabric clinging to his mass of muscles like pollen clings to a freshly washed car. He cast an imposing shadow, and his full black lumberjack beard aided his aura of toughness. The tone of his voice was serious.

"Yes sir, I am," Scott said as he reached down and paused Justin Timberlake mid-verse. He felt a nervousness build in his stomach, but he refused to show it. The men were studying him for weakness. Like a predator eyes its prey. Besides, what could he have to fear? He had done nothing wrong. Just an honest working man on his walk home from work, even if he was an ex-con.

The second man stepped from his partner’s considerable shadow. A large man by any standard but he looked downright small compared to the mountain of a man next to him. A dark-skinned man standing at what Scott estimated was 6 foot 2 inches with an athletic build and a much looser suit. It wasn’t baggy, just not the painted-on look of the first man. He would have been intimidating, if not for the giant in a fancy suit looming next to him.

“We need to have a word with you Scott. I am Special Agent Johnson, and this is also special agent Johnson, no relation.” He flatly stated. Scott wondered if that was a joke, one of those light workplace jokes. Neither man’s face hinted at the slightest bit of a smirk or smile.

“We are with the North-Eastern Territories Intelligence agency, and we need you to take a quick ride to our field office. It will be quick and painless as long as you cooperate.” The larger of the Special Agent Johnsons said.

“So, what you’re telling me is that a couple of large Johnsons want to escort me to an N.E.T. Enforcement station for questioning? I have to tell you, fellas; that is a first for me. I appreciate the invite, but I have done nothing that requires questioning. With all due respect, I have to pass.” Scott said

“Mr. Carr, we were just polite, don’t confuse that with a request. Your presence is required. And Mr. Carr, before you entertain any thoughts of using your powers, let me assure you that we are prepared.” The smaller Agent Johnson said between clenched teeth that showed his patience was waning.

Using his power was what he had been entertaining in his head, but how in the world could they possess anything to deal with it, he thought. As if reading his mind, the smaller detective removed his glasses and looked directly into Scott’s eyes

“Even IF, and that is a big IF, you use your power to escape us, we have two men standing in the hall of your mother in-laws apartment complex. One call and they can pay a quick visit to your wife and son. I hope that image will be proper motivation to have your cooperation. It will be a much more pleasant experience for all of us if you cooperate fully.”

“Sounds like the easy way, gentleman,” Scott said with a smirk trying to make it clear that their threats had not gotten to him. They did, however, get to him. Intense burning anger bubbled inside of him; he imagined exacting slow and painful revenge on the two men if anything happened to his wife and son. He would never let them get a hint of his angry thoughts, and he maintained a small friendly smile as he got into the back of the two Johnson’s black Cadillac. Whatever was about to go down, Scott knew he needed a level head and had to keep his wits about him. Straight and narrow, the thought bounced around his head like a super ball in a box. Straight and narrow.