Jay hands me a bag of photography equipment and I sling it over my shoulder. I feel freer, but empty inside without Allison. As much as I will miss her, I can not jeopardize my mission or my life by worrying about her. What good would it do her if I worried about her, only to never come back because I was either captured or killed?

"Are any of you going to give me a gun, or are you going to send me out there defenseless?"

"This is a stealth mission. Your goal is to not be seen or heard."

"It's called backup, and I need it since I will clearly be doing this solo."

"Do you even know how to use a gun?"

"Yes. My father and I used to go shooting every weekend."

"Shooting at a target is a lot different than shooting at a person. Are you ready to face the consequences of killing someone? Doing something like that tends to change a person."

"I can handle the consequences. Look, will you give me a gun or what?"

"Give the girl a pistol and holster," Jay orders.

I strap the holstered gun onto my belt. It is camouflaged well with my all black skinny jeans, t-shirt, and jacket.

I know that it is a risky job, but I need to do something. I can't just stay here and mooch off of all of these other people. It wouldn't be right. I have to do my part, even if that part puts me at risk.

I wave to Jay and his team. Cautiously, I make my way into the dense woods. I follow a foot trail some dear made. I remain attentive for sounds of a foreign person. I walk for a couple hours until I reach the edge of the forest. About a hundred feet back I knew I was nearing the road because the dense brush had started to thin.

I know that I need to make it to the center of town because that is where all of my material will be located. I follow along with the paved road, but I keep a safe distance into the woods to remain hidden. Creeping along the highway, I keep a steady pace towards the city. I hear a low rumbling coming from down the road. Immediately I stop my progress and crouch down low into the brush. Cautiously, I lift my camera up and try to zoom in on the vehicle that is slowly making its way down the road. I check the shutter speed and begin to capture some pictures. They are grainy because of how close I am zoomed in.

After a few minutes, the truck is nearly directly across from where I am hiding. I can feel my heart in my throat. I click the shutter button a few more times. I remain still, holding my breath. I fully anticipate that the truck will continue down the road, butObey your government or face the when it doesn't, I become worried. The truck is a dark green color and there is a banner on the side of it flapping limply in the wind. It reads "Obey your government or be tried for treason." I lift my camera to my eye and capture the image of the banner on the truck. There are two men in the front seats. I am too far away to be able to tell what they are doing. There was no way that I could have known that they had infrared.

I remain hidden in the brush, hoping that the soldiers would continue on their way and not notice me. At this point, I decide my best option is to stay where I am and not risk being seen. I breathe soundlessly and pray that they cannot hear my pounding heart. It feels as though I have a hammer pounding the inside of my chest cavity. It seems like an eternity before anything happens.

Abruptly, both of the soldiers climb down out of their truck. The soldier who appears o be about ten years older is holding something that looks like a radar gun in his right hand. He scans the area with the radar gun type machine. When he points it in the area I am hiding in, he stops moving the gun forward. That is when I realize that I am in deep. I know that now it is fight or flight. It was only two and I could have fought them, but it seemed cruel. They are not the ones to blame for this mess. With my decision made, I took a deep breath and ran like hell.

Their reaction was immediate and they took off running after me.

"Freeze!" yelled one of the soldiers. "Stop or I will shoot!"

I kept blazing through the thick woods. Barbs were tearing through my skin and my hands were skinned from tripping over a small tree that was hidden under dead leaves. My lungs are burning, but I continued to push my body. My legs are aching after what feels like hours of running. Suddenly, shots are fired from behind me. I duck but continue to push forward.

BANG! BANG! BANG! Three more shots are fired at me. My legs are tiring and I realize that I cannot keep running. The soldiers are gaining on me and I really do not want to die. That is when I realize that flight is not going to work. I can either surrender or fight. I pull the gun out of the holster and make one of the hardest or maybe the easiest, I don't really know. All I know is that it is a really stupid decision. A decision that will take me away from my baby girl and the rebel camp that I had only discovered a few short days ago. I take a deep breath. My heart beats aggressively in my chest reminding me that I'm not dead yet. I turn to face the soldiers and yell out.

"Stop! I surrender." Tears threaten to spill out of my eyes, but I push them back with everything I have. The soldiers watch as I place my gun slowly and carefully on the damp, cool ground.

"Put your hands where I can see them! Make one move and I swear to God I will not hesitate to shoot you!" I slowly lift my now empty hands above my head and remain like that until the older soldier who appears to be about thirty-five approaches me. The young soldier keeps his handgun steadily pointed at my head. The other soldier approaches behind me. I flinch when one of his rough, calloused hands grips my right wrist and pulls it to the small of my back. He then reaches up and pulls my left wrist down to meet the right one. I remain perfectly still. I continually chant in my mind.

You will show no fear, show no fear, show no fear.

I feel the cold metal of the handcuff click closed around each wrist. The older soldier lifts me up by my upper arms and the younger soldier does not stop watching me with the gun pointed at my head for a second.

"Watch her." The older soldier commands the younger soldier. The younger soldier steps close to me and pushes the barrel of the gun into my temple. I keep my head up and my shoulders square.

"You are acting all strong right now, but when we get you back to the Center that is all going to change," he says threateningly.

I remain silent. I know that they will likely interrogate me, but I will not talk. I am loyal, despite the fact that I only joined a few days prior. I will not let them break me. I will be strong.

"Alright," says the older soldier, "let's get the prisoner back to the Center." I glance over in his direction and see that he has gathered my things.

"Move," commands the young soldier as he shoves me forward forcefully.

I begin walking quickly attempting to match his pace. The walk back seems to take an exceedingly long time as my aching muscles fight my every step. Despite my tiredness, the soldiers are unrelenting with their brisk, punishing pace. By the time we reach the truck, I am ready to collapse, but I remain firm in my decision to show no weakness.The older soldier walks ahead and opens the back of the truck. The back is metal with two benches, one on each side. Everything is steel, including the shackles attached to the bottom of the truck. As the soldier with the gun forces me inside, I trip on the step going into the back and fall on my face. I feel my lip split open, but nothing despite that. The older soldier lifts me up and place me inside the truck. The soldier with the gun climbs in behind me. He pushes me down on the bench. Once I am in a sitting position, he unlocks my hands. I feel momentary hope that they will let me go until he brings my hands in front of me and locks them in the steel cuffs again. When he bends down to lock my ankles into the cuffs, I kick my foot up and kick him, hard. It won't do any permanent damage, but I hope to get the point across that I am not going to be some crying little girl. Instead of immediately reacting, he locks my ankles into the cuffs and attaches the chain to my handcuffs. I am trapped. I am alive, I remind myself. When he stands up, he swiftly brings his closed fist to my face.

I nearly cry out, but I know that I will face much worse in the days to come. I lift my head and square my shoulders.

"You are in some deep trouble missy," he growls, "You will face charges of treason and resisting arrest." I refuse to give him a reaction. I can feel my eye starting to swell and my cheek is sore.

Both soldiers then proceed to climb out of the truck and close the doors, leaving me in the absolute, complete darkness. I hear a lock click into place on the outside of the door. I know the only way I am getting out of this truck is when they let me out. That is when it hits me how truly bad this situation is. I want to cry, but I know they will see that my eyes are red if I let myself cry. I cannot show weakness. I will not break, I remind myself.

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