turned and walked out the door. “You’re lying, insane, or a combination of the two. I have to get going now.” “This is not optional,” she said to my back. “Seems optional to me!” I waved goodbye. Yeah. It wasn’t optional. When I got back to my apartment, before I even got to my front door, four well-dressed men surrounded me. They showed me their FBI badges and hustled me into one of three black SUVs parked in the complex parking lot. After a twenty-minute drive where they refused to answer any of my questions or even speak to me at all, they parked and showed me into a generic-looking
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