Hank and I jump three feet in the air. I put my hands out in my best karate chop pose, ready to protect myself from the kidnappers, but it's not them. Instead, it's a small, elderly man holding a set of keys in his hand. He points to the truck and asks us a question. Obviously, it's his truck.

"See?" I say to Hank. "Karma is a bitch."

Hank ignores me. He points to the truck and the two of us. "North?" he asks the old man. "Can you take us north?"

The man nods, ...