''[i]Wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round, 'round and 'round, 'round and 'round...[/i]'' 

Dan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for the light. On the radio of the Suburban played a Robbie Williams song, although he wasn't very preoccupied with that - his eyes were on the traffic lights, waiting for them to go from that annoying red to green. Annoyed, he grabbed the aluminum-wrapped package next to him, fingers latching at its side to rip it open, revealing a wrap. The smell of chicken and mayonnaise brought a pleasant tinge to his nostrils.

Then the light went from red to green, and a disappointed Dan stepped on the gas slowly, delaying himself from taking a bite. His tired eyes strafed down from the lights, to the rearview mirror, and back on the road. He steered, then his eyes darted up, noticing that the car behind him had no license plate. He took a bite from the wrap and began chewing it, as the plateless car, a black Corolla, suddenly skid in place from a sudden acceleration, overtaking the Suburban. Daniel put the wrap back on the seat next to him, and unholstered his Glock, slightly unnerved. 

Before he could react, the Corolla suddenly braked right in front of him. Dan would have braked himself, but in an unexpected reaction (in truth, in a lack of one), he did not pull his foot off the gas, and ended up smashing his car straight into the rear of the Corolla. The wrap splattered itself all over the windshield, and likely Dan would also have, if not for his seat belt. He quickly rushed out of the car after a moment of disorientation, and went to check on the Corolla, concerned about its occupants, although nonetheless still wary.

He was greeted by a wildly sweeping muzzle of a pistol, with a Hispanic man clenching his forehead wielding it. Dan was too overwhelmed by the events to feel surprised, even. He'd raised his pistol and put two rounds into the man before he knew it, piercing the man's jaw and his cheek. He stood still with his pistol still pointing at the man, blankly, before a sudden curse in Spanish and a burst of gunfire made him jerk back and fall onto the ground, his face lightly peppered with blood. He searched his face for a wound with his left hand, afraid that he had gotten shot, but could not find any. He raised his eyes and saw the head of the man he'd shot, leaning over the window, blood seeping on the ground beneath him. 

Dan gathered himself and quickly jumped to cover behind the car, next to the perforated head, and raised his pistol upon hearing a door open. A sillhouette appeared from the opposite side of the car, and Daniel hesitated for a moment, but upon seeing the man jerk back at him with a submachinegun in his hand, he immediately pulled the trigger three times, dropping the man. After appreciating a few moments of stillness, he peeked over to the backseat, and after seeing it empty, got up from cover, holstering his Glock. He walked around the car and looked at the man lying on the ground, the first man he killed, and expected to vomit, or feel horrible, but did not do either. 

''[i]Werner? This is Dan. I've been attacked by two... looks like Cartel members. You guys might want to come visit.[/i]''