That was what threw the switch for me, and I saw it all so clearly then, saw it as if I had planned it myself. I was about to be ambushed; I was already being herded into the kill zone.

Whoever had planned this hadn't wanted to hit me at the safe house, and that made sense; there had been a lot of guns at the safe house, and it would have made taking me out difficult. So they'd let me get mobile, to isolate me, but they'd done so with an eye to controlling how far I could go, and where. With the reserve light on, of course I would stop at the first gas station I could find.

There would be two teams, then: one in the follow vehicle, to monitor my progress, to act as the stopper if I tried to reverse and double back to the safe house. The second team would be in position already, waiting at the gas station, but in contact with the first, in the follow vehicle. Maybe on radio, maybe on cell phones, it didn't matter. The point was, they would know I was coming, and they would be ready for it when I arrived.

Then I would turn into the station and roll up to the pumps, and before I could even get out of the Civic, the follow car would pull alongside and the team that had been waiting would emerge from their cover. They'd shoot into the vehicle from each of their directions, forming two cones of fire, and trapped in the Civic, I'd find myself unable to do anything but die.

I could see it as clearly as if I had planned it myself.

I could see, too, that there was no way to avoid it. I was already in the mouth. Passing the station by wouldn't free me from the teeth. The follow vehicle would simply keep me in sight, and the second team would catch up, and they'd either wait for the Civic to choke to a halt, or they'd force me off the road, then take me there. There were plenty of places they could do it, plenty of stretches with nothing but trees and darkness and nothing else. Worse, continuing on would only take me further from the safe house. I had to get back there, had to make certain that I was the only target.