<P>The silence of the night continued.
<P>
<P><JC><B>--- --- --- ---
<P>
<P>A heavy knock came at the door, disturbing Private Lloyd's newspaper-reading. He looked up to his monitor, and stared at the viewscreen for the camera above the front doors.
<P>
<P>A figure in a UNATCO uniform stepped backwards, into the view of the camera, and held up an empty box of cigarettes. Lloyd frowned, mumbled something about Paul's ridiculous addiction, and reached one hand under his desk to push the button for unlatching the doors.
<P>
<P>He then turned back to his paper.
<P>
<P>"You know, Paul, you might as well just bring forty packs out there with you tomorrow," Lloyd said cynically. "I'm not letting you in for that crap next time."
<P>
<P>Lloyd paused for a moment, then realized he hadn't actually heard anyone enter the room. He turned and looked at the front door. It hung open, but nobody entered.
<P>
<P>"You coming in or not?" Lloyd shouted. "I'm not gunna play games with you, Paul."
<P>
<P>There was no answer.
<P>
<P>"Man, are you guys drunk again?" Lloyd rose from his seat and stomped over the smooth, tiled floor to the front doors. Once he reached them, he remembered no more than a sharp pain on the back of his head, and then blackness.
<P>
<P><JC><B>--- --- --- ---
<P>
<P>"This is too easy," Brian remarked after Dom had dragged the body of Private Lloyd out onto the grass. "This is way too easy. Are these people really idiots?"