In a quiet room somewhere in England,2108, a dusty wall shivered, cracked, and slowly slid open, revealing- a man. This particular man lives in Yorkshire, in a small town named Warren. He loves castles and secret passages, so he improvised and bought a castle full of twisting, wormy passages and secret rooms. His name is Sano Lane, and at this moment is snoring loudly. It is the middle of the night. With in the next 9 days, this man will be captured, thrown off a plane in Denmark, and be home in time for his house to explode. Here is his story.

Sinister shadows crept across the wall as ten people filed through the narrow hallways of dark Warren Castle. They were professionally silent as they smoothly fanned out. They were searching for something. A door grated open, and they quickly slipped inside. They clustered around Sano Lane’s bed. He was still sleeping deeply. One of the men spoke quickly. “Sätt chloroformen på honom. Han ska inte vaket, tills det är för sent.” Another man pulled a sturdy leather bag from the folds of his black coat and opened it. He took out a smelly napkin and held it to Sano’s face. Sano’s breathing eased until you could hardly hear it. After that the men acted quickly. The tying, bagging, and other procedures happened in a flurry of activity. The man with the leather bag took a small black ball from the bag, twisted it, and dropped it on the floor of the castle where it lay softly beeping. In no time at all, the package and all the men were driving away in a small van.

He awakens in a small room. Loud noises assail his ears. He experiences a small shock through his stomach, as if he were going up in an elevator. His first thought is one of fear. “Oh no, they have caught up with me.” he thinks. “I was too lax and gave away my identity with a credit card! I should have been more careful. Of all people, I should know that the SBCS has spies everywhere!” he scolds himself. “Now where the heck am I?”  High above the plains of Denmark, a small black helicopter with white letters emblazoned on its side spelling Sweden Based Criminal Society hums quietly through the sky. Several men dressed in wrinkled black suits are in the cockpit, behind a thick glass windshield. One holds a leather bag. He gestures and the pilot veers upward to gain altitude. Meanwhile, Sano Lane is doing some hard figuring. “Let me see,” he muses. “What does the SBCS do to enemies? Oh yeah! He drops them off planes or helicopters. Well, it’s a good thing that I have a super-thin super-compact micro parachute in my pocket! Now how did it get there?” The floor cracks open and Sano is suddenly in freefall, 10,000 feet up. “Now this goes here and this hooks here and voila! Portable parachute!” Above in the helicopter, the man with the leather bag watches Sano with a mixture of anger and humor on his face. He finally speaks as Sano drifts out of sight. “Att manen kan få ut ur något, kan inte honom?” he sighs and laughs.