I was in room in run-down rooming house, talking to a man who lived in the room. This fellow was somehow involved with drugs, although I didn't know exactly how. Suddenly, armed men burst into the room. There must have been 25-30 of them. Without hesitation, the armed men killed the other man with me. Then they turned to me. I closed my eyes, certain they were also going to kill me. But when one of the fellows walked up to me, I opened my eyes, and he handed me a piece of paper. On the paper was some writing by a girl who used to know me. She had written that she loved me. Because of this writing, I was spared.

Not only was I spared, but the men wanted me to join them. I quickly figured out that they were warriors in the drug war. They were a small but well-organized group fighting against the police, fighting for the rights of people to use drugs. They were well-equipped, intelligent, and dedicated. They were of the opinion that the drug war was one-sided, that the police were slaughtering innocent unarmed people simply because those people wanted to use drugs. This group was determined to change this, to wage a just war for the rights of people to have the freedom to do what they wanted with their own bodies, for the right to use drugs.

I immediately wanted to be with these warriors. I believed in their cause and I wanted to fight in this war. With little further thought, I joined them and felt right at home with them.

We left and began making plans. We had to think about many things. We were always on the move, never able to stay long in one place. We needed many safe-houses, and many cars. And we always had to guard against traitors in our midst. If possible we also needed to infiltrate the police with spies of our own.

We always had to be careful of where we were staying. Several of us were sent to an apartment to check it out, to make sure it was safe. The apartment was on the ground floor of a tall building in a big city. We walked in with our video cameras and began taking video of the whole place. We even found some colorful blueprints which we began examining. I needed to depend upon the expertise of the others because I didn't yet have enough experience to determine whether the place was safe.

Suddenly we were called to another location, which looked like a warehouse. When we arrived and walked in, we found a man lying dead on the floor, with a thick puddle of dark blood stretching away from him. He appeared to be one of our comrades who had been murdered by the police, another fallen warrior in the war.

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