VII
A Warm Reception OneCampbell had been lazily slouching on Yamamoto's low yet comfortable living room couch while thinking for what seemed like eternity. The moonless night sky outside the nearby window was in full bloom with thousands of twinkling stars. The warm room was silent, so peaceful and lonely; he could almost forget why he was there.
Feeling his eye lids begin to grow heavy, Campbell got up and stretched his stiff legs and back while letting out a roaring yawn. He glanced out the picture window into the nightlights of the surrounding skyscrapers, monorails, and empty speed-walks of the sleeping city. He briefly wondered what civilians, so innocent of the dangers he faced, were dreaming all warm safe and cozy in their beds.
Walking to the window, he gazed out onto the dark
