David awoke. For several seconds, he was unable to remember his whereabouts. He was cold. A skimpy blanket had scarcely provided warmth during the night. He was stiff from lying on his side, curled up on a hard cot. His head ached from too little sleep. The light overhead made him squint. Finally, with difficulty, he looked down at his wrist, only to find that his watch was missing. He had no idea what time it was; the lighted room had no windows. Turning onto his back, he stared at the stark, bright lightbulb screwed into the ceiling. Why had it been left on all night? And why was it in a protective steel cage as if he were in some kind of institution? Then the stench assaulted him, as it had when the guard had shoved him into the cell. His heart lurched when he remembered why he had been thrown into this hellhole.