The entire room felt like a swirling buzz. With weak, labored breathing, Bryan roused to consciousness, unable to completely grasp the situation he’d found himself in. Blinking rapidly, yet unable to see, he gradually became aware of his scenario and surroundings. There was a course, black bag on his head; nothing porous enough for him to get more than a dark glimpse of moving shadows, rhythmically swaying in front of him. Muffled sounds, like what you’d expect from an old phonograph, teased his ears behind the humming of faint tinnitus. Eventually, the dull sound fluctuations evolved into recognizable speech. Two men were in the room; older, rugged, yet distinguished sounding men whispered loudly to each other, not far away from where he sat.