Sweating bullets, he wiped his hands on his jeans before gripping the wheel. His eyes were fixed like a hawk on the taxi as he gave pursuit. At damn-near a hundred miles-an-hour, the blur made him feel drunk on speed. A speed camera helplessly flashed as the two bullets shot through the red light. White-knuckled, he streamed frantically through the downtown traffic. Through the back-window of the taxi he could see Madame Butterfly, struggling like an animal in a cage. Her wide-eyed terror only spurred him to jam his shoe against the accelerator. She was supposed to have been under his protection. He cursed and wished only that he could go back in time to correct this mess…

...and that’s when the ill-fated taxi made its final turn.