Homosoto suddenly laughed out loud. "You call that an army? 1000 men? An army? That is a picnic my friend." Homosoto was enjoying his own personal joke. "When you said army, Mr. Foster I imagined tens of thousands of people running all around the United States shooting their guns. A thousand people? I can give you a thousand dedicated people with a single phone call. Is that all you need?" He continued his laughter.
Miles was taken aback and had difficulty hiding his surprise. He had already padded his needs by a factor of three. "With a few minor specialties and exceptions, yes. That's it. If we follow this blue print." He pointed at the papers spread before them.
Homosoto sat back and closed his eyes in apparent meditation. Miles watched and waited for several minutes. He looked out the expanse of windows over Tokyo patiently as Homosoto seemed to sleep in the chair across from him. Homosoto spoke quietly with his eyes still closed.
"Mr. Foster?"
"Yes?" Miles was ready.
"Do you love you country?" Homosoto's eyelids were still.
Miles had not expected such a question.
"Mr. Foster? Did you hear the question?"
"Yes, I did." He paused. "I'm thinking."
"If you need to think, sir, then the answer is clear. As you have told me, you hold no allegiance. Your country means nothing to you."