Sam Fisher- Truck Hitchhiking

  I find what I’m looking for at the edge of town. It’s a sort of minor truck stop for commercial vehicles traveling to the north. I walk around to the back of the place where I can’t be seen and sit down to wait for my ride. Thirty minutes later it arrives.

  It’s a ten-wheeler truck—perfect for my needs—with the words “Tabriz Moving Company” painted in Farsi on the side. I wait until the right moment, when the driver is inside the station using the washroom, then I run to the back of the rig, crouch, and crawl beneath the hot flatbed. I turn my belt all the way around so that the buckle is on my back and pull out the hook. I then lodge my body up above the axles, facedown, and position myself so I can hold on to and rest my legs on parts of the chassis with the hook securing me in place. It’s not the most comfortable way to ride a hundred miles, but I’ve done it many times, and it really isn’t so bad as long as you keep your wits about you, don’t fall asleep, and never let go.

  Five minutes pass and the driver gets back in the cab. The engine fires up and we’re off. For the next three hours I have a lovely view of a speeding blur of highway, four feet below my face.

- Splinter Cell, Chapter 13