The room is a moderately squalid rectangle of stained wallcoverings, scratched and mismatched plastic furnishings, and worn carpeting. There are two narrow beds and one chair. In the chair sits Shaver, cleaning her Ingram 20t SMG. On one of the beds sits Whistle, watching her wrist-watch. Beside her, in a large gray case made of a macroplast composite, lies about seventy kilograms of bait, now slumped, prone, unmoving.