I'm Dennis Murphy. Just imagine for a moment you've wakened in the middle of the night,

you go to the kitchen and staring down at you from a backyard tree is a man with night

vision goggles, but you never even know he's there. What you also don't know, he's

watched your family's comings and goings for hours, taken notes, and his Confederate

has been pouring over your social media posts. When they get all their intel together,

coming for you and your family, kidnapping, robbery, their career criminals, and that's

what they do. We've always advised you not to date line alone. For this one, up the

eddy, gather as many friends as you can about you and turn on all the lights. We called it

a villainous plan and was it ever terrifying.

It's a beautiful September day in the western mountains of North Carolina. Beautiful

stretch of interstate. North Carolina State Highway Patrol is running radar and you see

a four-edge low right by. It started off as a routine traffic stop, but it was anything

but routine. All of a sudden you see the SUV pull over, you see the passenger side door

open briefly and then shut and then take off again. You hear the sirens, you hear the

unmistakable roar of the engine. You see the vehicle swarve into the big truck, takes

off its driver's side mirror, goes flying off and you see his ominous brake lights go on.

And then you see him ram the side. He's hitting me. He's hitting the third vehicle.

Our story begins in 2015 with 46-year-old Matt Yussman, a chief financial officer of a

credit union in Central Connecticut. I've been playing hockey for 30-something years,

play every week, sometimes twice a week, all summer long, all winter long. Money management

pays his bills, but hockey fuels his passion. He's the goalie for a team called the trash

panties. So your league plays on Sunday night, haven't you do that night? We won a game,

...