Charles Wayne Zimmerman had a dream. It was a simple dream. It was the kind of dream that people have on a slow Tuesday at work when they are tired of staring at a computer screen. He wanted to sail around the world. He wanted to feel the wind in his face and the salt spray on his skin. He wanted to be free. He is a U.S. Navy veteran, so he knows a thing or two about the sea. He probably thought the ocean belonged to everyone. He probably thought he could just float on by, minding his own business, and the world would let him be.

He was wrong. Dead wrong.

Now, Charles isn't looking at the horizon. He isn't watching the sunset over the water. He is looking at the cold, hard walls of a Russian prison cell. He has been sentenced to five years. Five years of his life, gone. Poof. Just like that. And for what? Did he rob a bank? Did he hurt someone? No. He just happened to be an American in a place where being an American makes you a target. He is the latest victim of a sick game that powerful people play while the rest of us suffer.

The news calls it "hostage diplomacy." That is a fancy term. It sounds official. It sounds like something smart people discuss in expensive rooms while wearing expensive suits. Do not let the big words fool you. It is not diplomacy. Diplomacy is when people talk to fix problems. This is kidnapping. It is extortion. It is theft. Russia grabbed this man not because of what he did, but because of what he is. He is a bargaining chip. He is a poker chip made of flesh and bone.

Think about how twisted that is. To the Russian government, Charles Wayne Zimmerman is not a human being. He is not a man with a family, a past, or a dream. He is inventory. He is something to put on a shelf until they need to buy something from the United States. Maybe they have a spy who got caught in America. Maybe they have a hacker or a gun runner sitting in a U.S. jail. They want their guy back. So, they go out and grab an American. Any American will do. Then they wait. They say, "We have your guy. If you want him, give us our guy."

It is a swap meet for human lives. It is the ugliest, dumbest game in town, and Charles is the one losing.

But let’s not let the American side off the hook here. Oh no. The suits in Washington will act shocked. They will stand in front of microphones and look very sad. They will say this is "unacceptable." They will send "strongly worded letters." Big deal. What good does a letter do for a guy staring at a concrete floor for five years? The government back home is useless. They let this happen over and over again. They play the game too. They calculate the odds. They weigh the political points. Is this guy worth a trade? How does it look for the upcoming election? It is all just math to them.

Both sides are disgusting. On one side, you have a regime that treats jail cells like shopping carts. On the other side, you have a bloated bureaucracy that moves slower than a snail in molasses. And in the middle, you have a regular guy who just wanted to sail his boat.

This story should be a wake-up call for everyone. The world is not your playground. We like to think we can go anywhere. We think that because we have a passport and a smile, we are safe. We think the rules make sense. They don't. The map is full of traps. There are places where your rights do not exist. There are places where you are just a pawn in a game you didn't even know you were playing. If you step one inch over the wrong line, your life is over.

So now, a Navy veteran sits in a cage. His boat is probably rotting at a dock somewhere, stripped for parts or just sinking into the mud. His dream of sailing the world has turned into a nightmare of counting cracks in the ceiling. Five years is a long time. It is a long time to think about how stupid the world is. It is a long time to wait for politicians to stop acting like toddlers and start acting like human beings.

Don't hold your breath, Charles. The people in charge—on both sides—don't care about justice. They only care about winning the hand. You are just the card they are holding. And that is the saddest joke of all.