Harold woke up and reflexively felt for his battle pajamas. Soft and warm on the inside, bulletproof on the outside, they were securely on him. He was safe. For now, anyway. Harold's bed felt uncomfortable, and he saw that he'd woken up on a park bench. If someone would go to sleep there, he could wake up there, but he preferred those lucky mornings when he woke up in an unused hotel room. A scrabble on concrete surprised him, and in a fluid motion he rolled off the bench into a kneeling position and drew his pistol from the concealed holster in his pajamas. Some kind of mutt looked back at him. It snuffled on the ground and then loped off, uninterested in competing with this stranger.
Harold holstered. Everything around him looked like a city, but without any people. Pulling down a couple flaps changed the coloring on his pajamas and gave him a utility worker's appearance, but there was no one to convince. He walked for an hour before he found an open store. He had just enough Standard Chinese to learn he was someplace called Kangbashi.
Luckily, the clerk took dollars. Harold hoped he'd sleep again soon.