James Sacer sat in his little apartment in New York. Perfect hiding place. There were so many people, that it would hopefully mess up the CIA's trackers. He hadn't even thought of M16, since they hadn't come after him yet. He'd been on the run for over a year. He'd had a good streak so far, and planned to keep it that way. He put on a black hoodie, put the hood up, grabbed his stuff, and walked outside, to where his Dodge Viper was parked. He put his stuff in the trunk, and got in.