For Nearly 3 Hours, a Stranger Kept Touching My Leg on the Bus—Then, Just Before We Got Off, He Slipped Me a Handkerchief and Whispered, “Pretend You’re Dizzy—Don’t Sign Anything.”

his face weathered, his eyes sharp and vigilant. He was wearing a heavy dark tactical jacket, a two way radio clipped to his chest.

“Marcus?” I gasped, catching my breath.

“Julian’s brother sent four men into the woods,” Marcus said quickly, pulling a small, heavy tactical flashlight and a key card from his pocket. “We have ninety seconds before they continue reading …