Decker stirred and woke from his nap, his eyes rolled back into position and Decker repeatedly blinked to remove the sleepy film from his blurry eyes. He stretched his arms back and pushed himself down the small bed, he let out and niggled groan and got a rush of blood to his head as his muscles re-relaxed. Decker sat up on the bed and rubbed his sore eyes removing the dry flakes that stuck his eyelashes together. He threw his legs off the bed and sat facing the computer, no new messages. Why was it taking so long? Time was precious Decker knew that Majestic Twelve knew about his involvement with the National Secessionist Forces, The NSF. Time was running out, if only they had not been discovered at the airfield, all three of the, Erin, Wayne, and Decker could have made it out of the country easier, now they were all relying on one man Decker had only met once, a man simply know as Smuggler, known for arms dealing but for the right price he could make "special" arrangements. Although at this very moment, Decker had started doubting if Smuggler would live up to his name.

Decker got up off the bed, walked across the cold-carpeted floor and into the bathroom. He lifted the toilet seat up and urinated into the bowel, after flushing the toilet Decker washed his hands and took to staring into the mirror again. He opened the small cabinet door that was by the sink and took out a small white container. He popped off the cap and shook the contents out on to his palm. His heart medication. Carvedilol, it was a beta-blocker, four years ago Decker had been classed with LVD or Left Ventricular Dysfunction.

Decker placed one of the oval tablets on his tongue and swallowed it, he then bend down and sucked the water from the tap spout. He needed to take one tablet everyday, it slowed down his heart, helping it pump more efficiently; meaning the overall circulation of oxygen-rich blood around the body improves. There were though, dramatic side effects such as faintness, weight gain, drowsiness et cetera.

Before Decker knew it his head was resting on the keyboard of his personal computer terminal. He never even heard the key turn in the lock of his front door; he never heard the lock click open as the cylindrical bolt retreated into the door, he never even heard the echoing footsteps approach from down the corridor or the door shuffle open, sticking to the lumpy carpet. Decker had visitors, and he was not even aware.